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kooktrash · 1 year

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DITTO ➢ jeon jungkook

summary: you’ve got everything you need right now, amazing boyfriend, amazing job, amazing friends, but when you receive life changing news you’re not sure how to bring it up to your boyfriend. your indecisiveness and failure to be open with him puts a huge toll on your relationship and he just wants to know that if he continues to love and walk the same path as you, you’ll do the same and ditto.

➢ established relationship [angst] boyf! jk x girlfriend!y/n [she/her. female anatomy]

➢ 12.9k words

warnings: teaser. soft boyfriend jk but relationship issues. smut. angst. fluff. separation anxiety. bath sèx. unprotected. oral (f and m). rough but sensual sèx. doggy. reverse côwgirl. y/n has trouble making decisions. heavy makeout. jk is literally perfect idk. not a break up story but they do take a break. dog parents. happy ending. [not a pregnancy fic] [haply ending]

song inspo: wasted affairs — minds eye , ditto — newjeans , still with you — jungkook , another (demo) one #2 — mac demarco

*interact to boost story if you like it!!! greatly appreciated <3*

It started on campus, exactly a year and ten months since the two of you started dating. You didn’t even talk that first day past a quick apology for bumping into each other before carrying on with your lives. A couple days later you found him on a dating app, he was attractive but that’s not why you swiped right on him. If anything you thought he was out of your league, the only reason you swiped right was to see if he had done the same. Imagine your surprise when you matched instantly and later on that night he sends you some cheesy joke that probably worked on all the girls he sent it to. You remember being thoroughly unimpressed and you told him so too.

He was just supposed to be one of those guys you talk to while you’re bored and then ghost when they try to meet up. It just didn’t go as planned when you saw him on campus a couple days later and he didn’t shy away from approaching you, practically following you to the bus stop and everything.

You don’t know how it happened but somewhere between going out for drinks on your first date to sharing the same laundry hamper, you realized you really love this kid. You were practically inseparable after that first date and although you haven’t been dating long, you hate being apart. It’s not even a crazy obsessive, ignore everyone else sort of way—it’s more that you just genuinely enjoy each other's company all the time. You don’t even have to talk or look at each other, just knowing you’re there is what makes a difference.

Now this doesn’t mean you haven’t gone without seeing others since you started dating. You did live separately at first and after graduating, Jungkook did a two month apprenticeship back in Busan so you couldn’t be together then either. Yes, he was coming down practically every weekend and calling or texting you throughout the day, even delivering food to your place from an entirely different city, but you had still been apart. It just feels better to be together entirely, y’know?

“What?” Jungkook asked with a little smile as he watched you squirm. You sat on the kitchen counter with a bowl of cereal that matched his. You were in a loose top and his boxers, your hair was pinned back but still messy. Your breath was still nasty from sleep and you had mismatched socks on, yet this is his favorite side to see of you. The chance to see each other in such a way felt oddly domestic. It didn’t feel like you were just his college sweetheart—it felt like you were his lifelong partner. Now you’re looking at him with this smile on your face as he stuffs his face with Lucky Charms and he just has to know what’s up.

“Nothing,” you said as you dug around in your bowl, “I was just wondering what we’re doing today.”

“Whatever you want,” Jungkook said as he placed his bowl in the sink waiting to see if you were done too and when you passed him your bowl he began washing them, “But we agreed to go to Joon’s place later for grilling.”

“Let’s do something you want to do till then, last weekend was my turn,” you told them as you hopped off the counter. You could see the corners of his lips turn upward in a side smirk making your eyes narrow. He looked over at you.

“I mean… if you really want to do what I want, I don’t think we’ll be leaving home at all,” he said with a wink that made you roll your eyes.

“Last night wasn’t enough? I’m sore,” you said as you picked up the mail from the tray and began to sort it, looking for coupons or something. He watched you separate it into a pile for him and then a pile for you.

“Never enough, I’ve got the stamina of a rabbit,” Jungkook said, lifting an arm to flex his bicep. You laughed lightly, “How manly.”

“Okay, okay, we need to get groceries today, I’m out of my protein,” Jungkook said more seriously, “We could probably get lunch, take Bam on a walk, it’s super nice out today.”

“Then Joon’s tonight?” You asked for confirmation and he nodded. When he finished washing he came over to where you were. His hands found your waist and immediately pulled you into his front. You whine when you hit his hard chest but your arms make their way around his neck anyway. He smiled down at you, “I love you.”

“Ditto,” You smiled leaning forward to kiss him but he tilted his head back, “Come on baby, I wanna hear you say it. I know you love me too.”

“Jungkook…” you said, still smiling. You felt this gross kind of love for the guy. You know the kind where you’re looking at them doing the most basic thing ever yet in your mind it’s like, ‘damn, I really love them’, then you cringe because why would you be so vulnerable to even think that? Yeah, that kind of love, it’s still hard to say it sometimes.

“I love you too,” you told him almost shyly and then he began to squeeze you in his embrace. You groaned at the tightness until his lips were on yours. It was short and sweet, just a quick moment of affection before you were pulling back. He released a light chuckle, “Your breath stinks.”

You scoffed, “You think yours smells any better?”

“I do actually,” he smirked as he let you pull away from his hold, “It smells like your pus—“

“Go shower!” You said making him laugh as he went to do that and left you alone in the kitchen. Normally you would join him but you had other things to worry about at the moment and you didn’t need Jungkook around for it.

You went into the living room, opened your laptop and checked your emails. You went to school for journalism and you’ve spent over a year interning at a well known editorial company. They specialized in digital news but they had a few actual magazines out, it was a global company and Jungkook had been so excited when you got the internship. He went as far as throwing a little party for you with all your friends.

Today is the day you’ll get an email telling you if you landed one of the open positions in the company, there were too many interns and too few openings so you’ve been stressing about it lately. You’ve yet to tell Jungkook but only because you’ll feel like you’re letting him down if you don’t get it. Your heart was beating out of your chest when you clicked on the right email thread and read it to yourself.

Jungkook was very confused in the beginning. One would say he was a player all throughout high school and the start of college. His longest relationship before you was a mere six months and he wasn’t mature during it. When you came along he thought that maybe it would just be a little fling before the two of you moved on, but the more he talked to you the more he realized neither one of you was going anywhere. Now, he understands that you haven’t even been together for two years but he can easily say that you’re the one, you just get him.

Sure, you argue here and there but you don’t hurt each other. Your communication is amazing, like that of a married couple that has been together for over a decade, and there’s just no stress with you. He knows what to do when you’re upset or how to make your eggs in the morning. You know when he’s running low on multivitamins and you make the calls for Bam’s vet appointments. Sometimes Jungkook even thinks Bam likes his mom, aka you, more than his dad. That’s that Jungkook has had him longer than he’s been dating you. Overall, you just fit into his life like the missing puzzle piece that completed him.

“Come on Bam, we gotta go inside,” you said later on in the day. You and Jungkook just came back from taking him on a walk at Han River and he was way too energized. You were already running a little late and you still had to feed him. Jungkook brought him over easily and the three of you went up like the little family you are. Jungkook watched you lovingly as you filled Bam’s dog bowl and got him water before washing your hands.

“Ready?” Jungkook asked you as he stood at the door with the keys. You nodded, looking around to double check everything was right before the two of you left for the evening.

Everyone was at Namjoon’s place before you two and his backyard smelt like grilled meat and a bonfire. Lawn chairs were spread throughout and there were two coolers of beer. You grabbed one for you and Jungkook and he pulled you onto his lap in one of the chairs.

“No, listen, I’m right,” Taehyung said as he talked with his hands. You looked over at the girl to your right, “What’s he going on about?”

“Oh you missed it, him and Hobi have spent about ten minutes arguing over which soda is better,” Yuna said with a little laugh looking just as amused as you, “So far Hoseok’s winning with a fair argument for Sprite.”

“Mountain Dew is better,” Jungkook cut in with a mischievous grin as the other two turned to glare at him and point their anger in his direction. You tried to smile as you leaned back into his chest. His hands were around your waist resting on your thighs, pressing his chin against your shoulder.

Yuna was Hoseok’s girlfriend and the closest friend you had out of everyone. You met her after she started dating him but you quickly befriended each other through mutual interests. Aside from Jungkook, she probably knew you better than any of the others—even your own personal friends. You’re not sure if you were being obvious about it or if Yuna had been wondering this all along but she knew some sort of news came.

“Come with me to the kitchen,” Yuna said as she stood up, “I brought dessert but I need help carrying it out.”

Without question you nodded and Jungkook released you from his hold so he could have a better debate over fizzy drinks with the others. The two of you headed inside Namjoon’s house and once you were alone in the kitchen, the questions began.

“So?”

“So?” You asked as you looked around for this dessert. Yuna crossed her arms over her chest, “Have you heard from the job?”

“Oh um,” you cleared your throat feeling a lump form as you looked back to see if Jungkook was still where you left him. He was sitting in the chair with a huge smile on his face as he tipped back his beer for another drink. “I got the job.”

Yuna gasped loudly as she grinned, excited now, “That’s great! Oh my god I’m so happy for you, what did Jungkook say? Are you guys doing anything to celebrate?” Her smile dropped, “Why don’t you look happy about it?”

You didn’t say anything, feeling your eyes begin to water and you had to step further into the kitchen so the others wouldn’t see you. Yuna followed you watching as you nearly broke down crying. She panicked, letting go of her drink to get close to you, “What’s wrong? You got the job… that’s great. It’s what you’ve wanted for a long time now an—“

“It’s abroad,” you finally said, “Like thousands of miles away and it’s not short term, it’s forever. The pay is great and I would get a high position but… but…”

“Have you told Jungkook? I’m sure you’ll work it out, I swear the guy would follow you to the end of the world if you asked him to,” Yuna tried lightening the mood, “Didn’t he write that cheesy song about walking the same path as you? He’ll be happy to go with you.”

“I can’t ask him to,” you admitted as you tried wiping away the tears, “He’s already put the down payment for the studio, all his clientele is here. His friends are here, his family is here. I can’t ask him to pack it all up and go with me. We’re not married, we’ve only been together for a little over a year. It would be selfish of me.”

Yuna looked at you with sincere sympathy, “So what are you going to do? Are you taking the job? It’s what you’ve wanted…”

“I know,” you sniffled as tears kept falling, “But I don’t know.”

“Aish! I heard you! Paper plates and napkins, I’m going!”

Jungkook’s voice was heard clear as day and just so happy as he closed the sliding glass door behind him. He was tasked with the job of bringing out silverware since you were inside and he was asking for you. They all told him to come in and find you, and bring back plates for them while he was at it. That’s why he came in with a huge smile on his face, “Babe?”

Yuna’s bewildered eyes matched yours and you turned to face the sink acting like you were busy as you forced yourself to stop being so emotional. Jungkook’s feet dragged on the floor as he came over spotting Yuna first. When his eyes landed on you he felt his heart leap, “There you are—“

He stopped himself when you refused to look back at him. It’s like he could sense that something wasn’t right. He shifted his gaze to Yuna, “What’s wrong?”

“Oh um,” Yuna looked at you and you couldn’t let her say anything, so you turned around facing him with your reddened eyes and puffy nose. Instantly Jungkook came to you, cupping your face softly, “Hey, hey, what happened?”

You tried to smile, “Nothin—“ “Don’t tell me it’s nothing, what’s wrong?” His voice was a soft whisper, immediately going into protective boyfriend mode, “Do you want to go home because we can leave right now.”

“I’m fine, I swear, I’m just… stressed,” you told him and it was obvious he didn’t fully believe it but he didn’t want to push it either.

“Jungkook! The plates!”

“Get your own damn plates! I’m busy!” He shouted back almost aggressively and Yuna took that as her cue to leave you two alone—even though you wished she didn’t.

“I’ll take them the plates,” Yuna said, using it as an excuse to leave and Jungkook didn’t even look in her direction as she left. His focus was solely on his girlfriend and why you looked so sad right now.

“Baby, talk to me,” he had a sad pout on his face, “Please? You were fine in the morning and I don’t know, yeah a little quiet around lunch but then we took Bam out and you were happy, so what happened?

“Did Yuna tell you something?” His jaw was clenched. He knew Yuna would never say anything to upset you but his protective side was coming out and all he knows is that you’re crying and Yuna was the only one with you. You shook your head, “No, no, I’m just stressed you know, um, about work.”

His brows furrowed like he didn’t fully believe you before trying to relax his expression, “Work? Is it because of the opening? I know you’ll get it, there’s nothing to worry about. You work your ass off and they’d be stupid not to give it to you, so please don’t cry—you’ll make me cry. You wanna see me cry?”

You laughed with a small sniffle, “It’s okay, I was just worked up but I’m fine now, let’s go back out.”

“You sure?” He asked wiping away the last year from your eye with the pad of his thumb, “We could go home, watch a movie. Oh, we can try on those new face masks, Bam loves them too—wanna know why? Because his mommy makes sure it’s on right and he gets his nails painted in the process. You’ve made him high maintenance, y’know?”

He’s trying to brighten your mood and it was working because you were laughing.

♱

It was a quiet night yet he couldn’t fall asleep. The room was dark and the air was on, his girlfriend slept peacefully next to him and yet he couldn’t go back to sleep. He slept for about two hours before he woke up. He’s just had a lot on his mind these last couple of days and he just can’t seem to figure out what is happening. He stared up in thought feeling his arm grow numb from having it under you.

Unable to clear his head, he made the decision to move his arm out from under you so he could stand up. As quiet as he could, he left the bedroom and went straight to the kitchen pouring himself a glass of water.

You seemed different these last couple days. From the moment he picks you up from work to the moment the two of you go to bed. It's not that you seemed ill or anything but you did seem stressed about something and no matter what he does to make you feel better it’s not working. He knows it’s probably about work but he had absolutely no doubt that you’ll get the job so he doesn’t want you stressing over it.

He wishes you would just talk to him. He doesn't need you to rely on him because he knows you wouldn't, but he'd like for you to realize he's here for you. If it was about work he hopes it all gets settled soon. If it was about him he's not sure what he'd do.

In reality, there's absolutely no reason for you to be upset with him. The two of you have a healthy relationship and it's no question that you deeply care for each other. He loved you so much, and you love him just as much so why can't you just confide in him?

"Jungkook?"

Oh. He was still in the dark kitchen grasping his half empty glass. He looked to the bedroom where you must've noticed he was missing. Shaking his previous thoughts away he finished up his water letting his glass sit on the counter. With a stretch of his arms toward the ceiling and a small yawn he was walking back to the room. He could barely make out your figure but he could see the way you were turned to face the door.

He quietly climbed back into bed feeling you shift a little as you mumbled, "Where'd you go?"

"To get water, come here, let's go back to sleep," he whispered back to you as he tucked himself in next to you. He went to pull you into his arms but you turned the other way instead. He could practically feel the distance you were putting in the middle and just like that all the thoughts were racing back to him. So were you stressed because of him?

"You can't sleep?" You asked drowsily, he nodded knowing you couldn't see him before rasping out an answer, "No."

It went quiet between you two as he continued to stare at the ceiling unable to get tired. You were already half asleep but you could tell he was struggling tonight. Without much debate you turned on your other side to face him and moved closer. His eyes shifted down as you began to snuggle into him and he was quick to turn on his side too. The two of you met halfway and your limbs locked with his while he hugged you to sleep.

He looked at your closed eyes, feeling the way your breathing evened out in relaxation while in his arms. It was so late and you probably had to work early and yet here he was troubling you by being awake.

"Jungkook," you whispered, your voice a little raspy too. He looked down at you, "Hm?"

"Go to sleep," you muttered under your breath. He sighed, "I'll just go to the living room and watch some tv until I can sleep. I know you've got work early."

He didn't give you much time to process what he was saying before he was getting up and leaving. You laid in bed, eyes opening a little watching him leave. You were left alone in your shared bedroom and the guilt was just eating at you. You knew you were being distant but you just have no idea how to even bring up the news about work. You don’t know how he’ll take it, but you do know you don’t want to leave him and make him think he’s the one doing something wrong.

You were sitting up now, yanking the covers off as you padded across the hardwood floor out the door. Jungkook was laying down on the L shaped couch watching a movie on a low volume. His phone lay on his chest, an arm tucked behind his chest and the other on the remote.

He looked over to the bedroom door when he heard it open. His eyes were big and rounded, innocent looking as you shuffled over to where he was. He didn't question it when you were sitting on the edge of the couch moving to lay over him. He welcomed you with an arm around your waist as you snuggled into his chest. He reached out for the remote, lowering the volume all the way as you let your eyes shut. A small smile appeared on his face as he made himself comfortable on the couch to fall asleep.

"Y/n's just, I don't know, distant?" Jungkook huffed, he raised the dumbbell with the help of Hoseok spotting him. "I feel like something's wrong. I can't tell if it's something I did or what and it's driving me crazy."

Since this morning he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about this. What if he was the problem? Why else would you be acting like this?

He finished a set with a puff of his chest trying to catch his breath as he was standing up. Hoseok took his spot, "Did you forget a birthday? Dinner? Anniversary?"

Jungkook shook his head no as Hoseok began his set, "Are you crazy? I would never forget any of that stuff, if I did Y/n would kill me.”

"Maybe she's not even upset, maybe Y/n's just stressed or tired," Hoseok huffed, "Try and give her time to talk, you know she doesn’t keep secrets from you. Maybe she’s just trying to figure out how to bring it up so just give her space.”

"I can't," Jungkook shook his head, "If I do she’ll never open up to me, trust me. Y/n’s not the vulnerable type.”

It's true. Jungkook knew you all too well. Since the beginning he had to be the one initiating any contact. He never understood why you doubted yourself but you never made the first move, not even when Jungkook had very specifically informed you he liked you. You're always worried you'll come off too clingy and you just don't get that it's what Jungkook wants. He’s way more affectionate than you and it does not mean you’re not like that with him but he’s way more open about his feelings than you—always has been.

"Then I don’t know what to say man, Yuna is an open book, she’ll tell me anything," Hoseok stood now next to Jungkook as they both took a small break. They were practically done for the day anyway so they left to the men's locker room. Jungkook bit his lip nervously, "Has she told you anything about Y/n? They were together at Joon’s when Y/n was crying. You think you can see if she knows anything?”

“I’ll try,” Hoseok said as he reached into his locker for his gym bag, “How’s the studio looking?”

Jungkook appreciated the attempt to change the subject and went on to talk about it, “Great. All the new equipment came in and I’ve already got some clients registered for CrossFit training. Thankfully since it was an old gym I didn’t have to make much changes on it.”

“That’s great man,” Hoseok said with a warm smile, “See if Y/n can do an article about it in the magazine.”

"Nah, she’s stressed, I don’t want to give her more work especially if she had to run it by her bosses first," Jungkook tells him as he takes his helmet and tucks in his underarm. It was a nice enough day for him to ride his motorcycle today and since he isn’t picking you up from work he can ride around a bit and try to clear his mind.

"True," Hoseok told him as they exited the large gym. Jungkook walked over to his motorcycle, a slick black with polished silver detail. Harley Davidson plastered on the side. His helmet was black too, it matched the silver with a chrome reflection and it fit him perfectly. You got it for him over Christmas.

"So you’ll ask Yuna then?" Jungkook asked honestly.

"I’ll see what she knows," Hoseok told him as he walked to his car, “Get Y/n flowers, that might cheer her up.”

Jungkook sat comfortably on his ride as he put his helmet on. He nodded, waving the man away as he turned the key for the ignition. Without wasting another minute he was walking his bike back before taking off out of the parking garage.

Once he was at his apartment he jumped in the shower, music blaring as he tried getting ready to work. It’s his last week of teaching classes at his local gym before he can put all his focus on his own business. He’s had a lot on his plate too.

Hoseok got to his place a while later, his girlfriend was already home watching tv in their living room when he came in, “Hey.”

“Hey,” she said tilting her chin up as he planted a kiss on her cheek in greeting. Her nose scrunched, “Go shower.”

“I will in a sec,” Hoseok said, checking his phone to see if Jungkook has texted him yet.

“How was the gym?” Yuna asked him, making him release a sigh.

“It was good, Jungkook was just… I don’t know, he’s worried,” Hoseok said looking over at her, “About Y/n.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment, choosing instead to stare blankly ahead at the screen. He cleared his throat, already able to tell something was going on, “You know anything? Why Y/n’s been acting differently? He said you were with her when he found her crying.”

“Babe, it’s not my place—“ “Come on, I’m not going to tell him if it’s bad, I just… is Y/n breaking up with him?” Hoseok asked, “I just want to know. You know Jungkook and Y/n are inseparable and if she dumps him I genuinely don’t know how he’ll take it.”

Yuna bit her lip nervously, “She’s not dumping him… but, um,” she knew she should tell him but he’s her boyfriend. He knows she knows what’s going on and if she doesn’t say something she’ll risk having an argument over secrets.

“You know how Y/n’s been working hard to get a permanent position in the magazine?” Yuna went on to say. Hoseok nodded as he tried to smile but he couldn’t, “She didn’t get it? I mean, it’s okay, I know it’s probably hard but it’s not something she should keep fro—“

“Y/n got the job,” Yuna said seriously watching Hobi’s face brighten before she could go on, “Just not here.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a permanent relocation with a high salary,” Yuna told him, “It’s not here and she’s got about two months to accept or reject the offer.”

“Oh,” Hoseok said. He didn’t know how to feel at the moment. Y/n was a good friend of his because of Jungkook. He was there to celebrate your internship and they all had been anticipating you getting this position. It was all the two ever talked about. On one hand he’s happy, you’ve worked hard for your job and this is something you went to school for. You deserve it.

On the other hand, he’s thinking about Jungkook. The kid has been one of his closest friends for years now. He’s seen him change through time and it was for the better when you came along. Everyone knows the relationship hasn’t been too long but, the way Hoseok sees it… Y/n is just right for him. They ground each other, they’re stable and they hold a lot of love for one and other. Jungkook quit getting wasted every night, passed out at some party never remembering where he was. He cleaned up his act when you came along and graduated with a Business degree and now he’s on his way to become an owner of his own training gym. Everyone knows you’re the one who was supporting him along the way and in Hoseok’s eyes it doesn’t matter how long two people have been together to know if they’re the one for each other.

That’s why he’s at a loss for words right now. Jungkook has asked him to see if Yuna knows what was going on and now that he knows he’s not sure what to tell his friend. It’s not like he could just say, ‘Oh yeah, the thing is, Y/n did get the job but she’ll have to relocate permanently if she accepts it but you just got your studio so that’s probably why she hasn’t said anything to you—and really no one knows what this means for you two and your relationship.’

“What do I tell him when he asks me about what you know?” Hoseok asked his girlfriend who only shrugged.

“I don’t know, just… don’t bring up Y/n’s job,” Yuna told him, “It’s better if nobody does.”

♱

That’s how the game began. Well, it wasn’t necessarily a fun game, it was more so a ‘How to keep Jungkook from knowing what was wrong until Y/n can tell him on her own?’

Hoseok had to let the others know. It wasn’t his intention to spread it around like gossip but after hearing Taehyung ask Jungkook if Y/n was still waiting to hear back about the position and making him go on a rant about how his girlfriend is too stressed to even speak to him, Hoseok had to say something to them.

Of course it made Yuna feel guilty because you trusted her to keep it between you two and she couldn’t—but you didn’t know any of this.

“Babe?” You called out to him as you got home late one evening. You looked around an empty house wondering if he was even home but his keys and shoes were at the entrance so he had to be.

“In the bathroom!” He shouted back and you left in the direction of your bedroom immediately. The door to the master was open and you went in to watch him begin to run a bath. He looked over at you, “Just got off?”

“Yeah,” you said with a small sigh as you leaned against the sink counter, “Mind if I join you?”

He smiled as he came over to where you were and placed his hands on your waist, fingers already gripping at the hem of your shirt, “Wouldn’t mind that at all.”

“Should we call Bam and make it a spa day?” Jungkook asked as he let you undress and went into the warm bubble bath. You shook your head, “He’ll make a mess.”

Jungkook didn’t argue with that as you came in after him and he immediately pulled you into his chest so your back was against him. His fingers tickled at your sides making you turn to mush in his arms till you relaxed against him. You rolled your eyes at his attack on you but you were smiling. Jungkook was happy to just get that from you. You let him pour water along your back and front before dropping some in your hair. You turned just enough to do the same to him and he let you run water through his hair. He’s not sure if you’re feeling better or not but he always enjoys time he gets to spend with you.

“So I need your help this weekend, I thought about it and I think I’m actually gonna paint the walls at the studio,” Jungkook began a casual conversation with you as you began to wash his hair with shampoo as he lathered your body in body wash. You nodded, “Okay, what color?”

“I want to do them white but with a black accent wall, probably chalk paint or something? I don’t know, then you can help me with calligraphy and it could be like my schedule wall, just an idea though,” Jungkook said, “I think I’m just getting excited.”

Your heart stopped for a short moment. You were hoping tonight would be the night you finally talk to him about work. You want to take the position but at the same time you want to turn it down. It’s such a good opportunity for you in the long run but right now you’re dating Jungkook. You don’t know how long your relationship will last since you’re still in your twenties and haven’t dated long, but he makes you want to stay. You just feel conflicted.

You tried to smile, “I like it, it’s going to look so good.”

Jungkook let the subject go as he washed your back, “I love you.”

“Ditto,” you laughed when he planted a kiss to your shoulder blade.

“I love you,” he placed a kiss on your neck, hands caressing your soapy arms.

You smiled, “I love you.” His hand traveled from your arm to your shoulder before making it to your chin and turning your head to face him. You leaned forward, pressing your lips against his and he released a low hum.

The kiss deepened further as did your back against his chest. The hand Jungkook used to turn your face toward him was traveling down your neck making you wiggle a little between his legs. With that small action and the fact that the kiss turned more hungry, he was releasing a quiet growl that rumbled through his chest. Your mouths parted at the same time but neither one of you moved back before going back in for a needy tongue kiss.

Jungkook didn’t need much convincing to let his hands roam your body, first cupping your breasts. A hand of yours had made it to the back of his neck clinging to him as he kissed down your neck, sucking harshly and licking away the pain.

“Baby,” you whined softly into his ear as his middle fingers and thumbs pinched the buds of your nipples so that he could run his index finger over them. You couldn’t stay still and by the hardening length along your back you knew your movements were affecting your boyfriend. He massaged your tits in his hands, squeezing them together and pulling them apart doing it over and over again as you fell full lax against his shoulder.

“You think I can still feel your dripping pussy in the water, baby?” Jungkook asked, tracing the finger that left your nipple numb with arousal down your navel and closer to your pelvis. You nodded against him and with a knowing smirk, he let his hand feel the water further as he slipped the hand between your legs and right over your cunt.

Jungkook groaned into your mouth as he swallowed your moans in a kiss. Of course everything felt different underwater but there was no denying the sticky slick pooling between your folds. He dipped his long middle finger between the wetness, immediately eliciting a quiet whine from your pretty lips. You tightened your hold on the back of his head, fingers sinking into his hair pulling him down deeper for the kiss.

He knew everything about your body and just how to make it react, like when he let the palm of his hand roll into your clit when his finger came out before plunging it back into your entrance and releasing pressure from his palm. The only sounds that filled the room were of the splashing water and your moans while Jungkook fingered you. Your other hand clung to his forearm, thighs threatening to shut at the immense pleasure he was giving you.

“Nuh uh,” he tsked in your ear as he sped up his finger, teasing the folds with his ring finger before making room inside your cunt for two fingers that hooked forward and back, “Don’t you dare close your legs.”

“Jungkook, please,” your legs were shaking as you bucked up into his hands and pressed into his hard cock forcing moan after moan from him as well. You could feel the rumble in his chest against your back and you just wanted to melt into him.

You and Jungkook had a very active sex life and it’s clear that these last couple of weeks you’ve both grown distant through time but it feels so good right now.

He traced his finger tips down your sides trying to turn to face him better. You moved onto your knees letting Jungkook help you hook them over his lap so you could be pressed against him better. Your hand was on his firm and wet chest as you traced it toward his neck before bringing him in for a kiss. His fingers were soft down your back until need became of him. They tightened in the locks of your hair using his hand to feel along your front.

“Is this why you wanted to bathe together tonight?” He asked as he continued to press against that soft spot inside your wet cunt that made your legs shake. It wasn’t exactly what you had in mind but you couldn’t even remember what you actually wanted to say now that he was bringing you to release with only two fingers.

“Fuck,” you moaned out letting your hips rut against his cock, “Me, oh god I need to feel you baby.”

Jungkook used his free hand to grope at your breasts but it quickly slid down to your navel pushing you back and forth grinding against his hard length. He was releasing short grunts into your ear, “Up.”

Your feet pressed flatly against the floor as he slipped his fingers out of your wet pussy to guide your hips up for you. You held onto the edge of the tub to hold yourself up as Jungkook moved a hand down to his dick giving it a couple strokes as he pointed it up. He slid down just a little more for better room and just like that you were sinking down onto his hard length raw.

“Oh,” Jungkook released a low groan, “Baby.”

He licked his dry lips watching the way you took him inside. The water was still filled with water and bubbles but he was able to see enough of your cute butt. Jungkook’s abs tensed so much that it was visible and flexed which made him look even hotter than usual. He begins to raise your hips feeling the warmth your pussy brought to his stiff cock.

Jungkook began to meet your thrusts with a buck of his hips and just like that did he begin to fuck you.

He leaned forward to leave wet and sloppy kisses along the back of your shoulder blade down to the way it flared along your back, moving his hands to grip your waist harshly. Jungkook's nail dug into your soft flesh as he lifted your hips up and down on his cock, “Take me so well, baby.”

He bit into his lip, watching in awe at the way your hips gained more determined rhythm to get him off, he could see glimpses of your spine following your movements. Your hands nearly slipped off of the edge of the bed coming very close to falling face first into the water but it didn’t stop you from saying, "I'm gonna cum."

He released a short grunt as he pushed himself up so that he could stand on a leg and knee, "Grab the edge." You did as told, reaching for one side and holding onto it pressing your chest into the side of the tub and Jungkook placed a flat palm against your lower back. You’ll both be sore from being crammed in the tub but it’s not like this is the first time. He bit into his bottom lip to suppress a loud moan from slipping out as felt your familiar ring of nerves clenching around his member as it sucked him into your folds. He wasn't going to last much longer either so he’s gotten rougher.

He was pounding into you from behind so good that he needed to drop his weight on your. His wet body pressed against you, cold water droplets falling onto your back making you twitch in surprise.

His hand snuck under your stomach to hold you close as you felt his face press into your back as he moaned, “Fuck, baby, so fucking good.

“You make me feel so good,” he repeated, “Cum, fuck, please cum baby, I—I—ngh.”

He made his body flex from how hard he was tensing up to keep himself from spilling inside of you as you came around his cock.

“Jungkook, baby,” you whined, body trembling as Jungkook kept you pressed against him as you rode your high.

When you came down you began to shiver. The water was cold and so were you, plus you were ultra sensitive so it was unbearable. Jungkook could feel the way you trembled and he was trying to keep himself warm, at least his cock warm, but he began to pull out. He rather get you two dressed and not freezing before he finishes himself off.

He could ignore his hard on even as it twitched against his navel as he stood making sure to pull him with you. You slipped on your thin bathrobe letting him do the same and with a chaste kiss on the lips he walked with you out to your bedroom.

“Jungkook,” you called out to him just as he tried leaving to his closet. He turned to you waiting patiently for you to say something but you just walked toward him in your little robe that hid absolutely nothing from his lustful gaze.

You stood so close to him now and before he could what was up your hand was pulling at the tie around his waist. He let you open his robe exposing the hard cock that had just fucked you to orgasm. He didn’t even bother looking down at it, keeping his eyes on you as you have him a couple experimental strokes, his mouth drawn open in a silent, desperate moan that had him panting.

“Don’t you want me to make you cum?" You asked as you kissed down his chest toward his dick. Jungkook looked blissed out with his eyes rolled up, lips parted and his entire face just looking relaxed, “Fuck, yes baby, make me cum, fuck, I need it.”

You bring your face closer to his tip, licking it teasingly, tasting the bead of precum on your tongue. In one swift movement, you flatten your tongue on the underside of his cock, a teasing longs swipe from his balls to his tip. You stopped at the head letting spit pool in your mouth and onto his cock keeping your eyes on his as he watched you swallow more of his length into your mouth.

Jungkook gripped the corner of your vanity table for support as you sucked his stiff cock to your heart’s content. You held the base of his cock with one hand, bobbing your head in a quick pace since he was already so close from fucking you just moments ago. Jungkook watches the way his cock disappears into your mouth, the feeling of your mouth, your hands working other areas. He could feel the way you tried to breathe through your nose and relax your throat, slowly taking more and more of him into your mouth. You took steady breaths through your nose doing your best to relax your throat and flatten your tongue. Jungkook panted lightly, feeling the throb of his cock as his tip hit the back of your throat.

You roughly swallow around him, suppressing a gag as you resume to deep throat him.

"That’s it baby," he groaned, tossing his head back in bliss. Moans were pouring out of his mouth, his groan is muffled into his hand, "Just like that."

Just like that, he released a low growl as your mouth flooded with his thick release. His mouth hung open, hips almost locking from how hard his muscles flexed. Your kisses became tender as you jerked off his wet cock, making sure he got it all out after a week or two of no sex. You placed a sweet kiss on his hip bone as it protruded before you, making him release a breath laugh at your form of comforting him.

He let his hand fall into your hair softly cupping your chin to help you up as he stared at you with loving eyes, “You’re so good to me.”

You didn’t say anything as you pressed your face into his chest for a hug so he wouldn’t see the hurt in your eyes.

If you could just get the courage to tell him.

♱

Jungkook was happy, he really was. Life was just good at the moment. His business is really starting to come together, his girlfriend is supportive, his friends are wonderful. He’s just a happy guy.

“The Prince has arrived!” Jimin shouted in his usual eccentric manner as he stormed into Taehyung’s place with a huge grin on his face. Jungkook was caught stuffing his face with ramen as the guy walked in greeting everyone.

“How was the flight?” Jungkook asked as he finished chewing and swallowed. Jimin had been gone for a couple weeks on some dance tour but he just got back yesterday. Everyone met up together today to see him. Jimin came by and did the usual male handshake, “Long, I slept like fourteen hours when I got home.”

“Grab a bowl, we’re having ramen,” Taehyung said as he plopped down on his couch, “Beer in the fridge.”

“Wow, a meal for a king,” Jimin said as he left to the kitchen.

“Didn’t he say he was a Prince?” Namjoon asked Jin who just shrugged in response.

y/n: just got home

jungkook: do you want me to pick u up? jimins here

y/n: that’s ok, I’m just gonna hang with bam

jungkook: ok :( love you

y/n: love you too <3

“So,” Jimin came back a little later and took a seat next to Jungkook, “When can I stop by the studio?”

“Give it a couple days and then you can,” Jungkook said as he set his bowl down on the coffee table, “Y/n and I just painted the walls this past weekend and it smells like paint—gives me a headache every time I go in.”

Jimin smiled, “It’s cool that you and Y/n are still going to pursue your own things.”

Both Jungkook and Jimin missed the way the others shared a similar glance. Jungkook’s brows furrowed for a second before answering, “Yeah, I mean, what else would we do? We’ve got to find a way to support each other, yknow?”

“You’re right,” Hoseok cut in quickly, “You support each other well for everything.”

Jimin was missing the cues being sent to him by the others. In his defense, he’s been gone for a while. All Jin told him was that you got that job offer but to not bring it up to Jungkook, but that was days ago! And would Jungkook be talking about his studio if he was planning on moving with you? No. So, he honestly thought the guy knew and you two were working it out.

“Yeah, I don’t think I could handle taking the news well,” Jimin went on, once again not understanding why everyone was looking at him with glares in their eyes, “I mean, if my girlfriend was thinking about moving across the world for a job, I wouldn’t take it well. I think I’d probably—“

“Y/n’s not moving,” Jungkook said with a small laugh, still missing the truth, “She hasn’t heard back about the offer yet but it’s here.”

The room fell silent.

Jungkook looked at them all, confusion crossing his features. Now he could sense it, he could sense something was going on around him and he had no idea about it. Why would Jimin assume you would need to relocate? Everyone looked at him with this sort of look in their eyes that began to make him wary. He released a small, cautious laugh, “Why would you think she’s moving?”

Jimin dropped his head realizing his mistake and now understanding why everyone was sending him those looks. Hoseok cleared his throat, “Jimin was just talking, you know how he is…”

“Yeah, yeah, I um, I don’t know why I said that, just ignore me.”

“No,” Jungkook shook his head, feeling something build up in his chest. It was a mix of concern and maybe anger? What were they talking about, “I want to know what you meant.”

He released a nervous laugh, “Y/n’s not—she hasn’t told me—she got the offer?”

“Jungkook…” Namjoon cut in, “It’s not up to us to say anyt—hey!”

Jungkook wasn’t listening anymore. He was looking for his keys so he could go home. What are they talking about?

You were in your bedroom with Bam. He was laying perfectly still on your lap as you played some movie in the background while brushing his teeth. You haven’t had dinner yet since you were waiting for Jungkook and you’re sure that even though he had ramen, he would still be hungry.

Todays the day you’ll tell him since last time ended in sex. You’ll get him nice and relaxed before bringing up the job and then you two can talk it out and see what to do. You’re still not sure if you’re taking it or not but you’re sure that after talking with Jungkook he’ll help you come to a decision that’s best for you.

“Y/n!”

A smile came to your face as Bam immediately jumped up ready to greet his owner, “Over here!” You said back as you began to move off the bed, “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Before you could get to the door it was swung open and you immediately knew something was wrong. Jungkook looked angry, there was no denying his stone cold expression. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong!?” He scoffed loudly as Bam stood at alert between you two, “Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong, Y/n. Or are you going to wait for my friends to do it for you?”

Your heart dropped. What?

Jungkook couldn’t hold it in, he hit the wall lightly, “Say something! Did you get the job?”

“I… yes,” you said quietly and he took a deep breath. He wanted to feel happy, he was happy but… were the guys right? Were you leaving? Why haven’t you told him anything?

“How long have you known?” Jungkook asked, trying to remain calm. You closed your eyes scared, “A month, I didn't tell you be—“

“A month? A fucking month, Y/n?” His breathing was becoming erratic as he tried to push that strange lump in his throat down, “Why—what—oh my god. You told everyone else but me.”

“I didn’t! I swear, I didn’t tell anyone—only Yuna—“ you said as realization hit you. What did he mean by everyone? Who told him? Who knew?

“And you couldn’t talk to your boyfriend?” Jungkook asked, “Y/n, baby, I—we’re supposed to be a team. We’re supposed to tell each other everything. We, fuck, you don’t trust me?”

“Jungkook please,” you begged as you tried to reach for him but he moved back, “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to worry you. I did get the job but I would have to relocate and I didn’t know how to tell you. I wanted to talk to you and see what we can do or what I should do and… and—“

“But you didn’t talk to me, Y/n!” Jungkook yelled, “You’re saying this but it doesn’t change the fact that you couldn’t talk to me.”

“I wanted to tell you on my own time,” you said. You couldn’t even bring it in yourself to get loud or more vocal. Jungkook scoffed, “When was that gonna be? Were you just gonna shoot me a text while you’re flying across the world?”

“That’s not fair! I haven’t even accepted it yet, I wouldn’t just leave you like that,” you told him as you tried getting close again. He couldn’t even look at you right now.

He’s so proud of you for getting the offer and he wants you to do what’s best for you. He doesn’t know if he’s temporary in your life or not but it doesn’t help that he wants to be selfish and tell you that you can’t leave him. He doesn’t want you to go but it’s not like he could control it. The guilt would eat at him if he ever tried making this choice for you.

Jungkook just doesn’t get why you couldn’t even tell him. You distanced yourself from him and this entire time he thought he was the one who might have done something to upset you.

He released a small scoff as he leaned against the wall looking defeated, he let you hug his waist but he couldn’t even look at you right now. He was in extreme duress at what this means for the two of you. He can’t just pack up his life and follow after a girl who can’t even be open with him.

“Do you love me?” He asked so suddenly that you couldn’t process it quickly enough. He mistook your moment of silence as hesitation and released a deep sigh as he tried pushing you away gently.

“Yes,” you told him honestly as you gave him space.

He laughed bitterly, “You can’t even say it.”

“Jungkook, I love you.”

“You know, I’m getting real tired of having to practically beg you to tell me you love me,” Jungkook’s voice was hoarse. He felt awful because he knows you love him but the way you close off from him and keep him in the dark makes him think it’s not reciprocated to the extent of his own feelings.

“Baby, please just sit with me and talk and we can figure this out,” you said trying to guide him toward the bed but he wouldn’t budge.

He shook his head, “I don’t want to talk it out. You couldn’t tell me when it happened Y/n, you distanced yourself from me and I genuinely thought I did something wrong. I thought that maybe I was the one who did something to upset you and I’ve been worried sick thinking that you weren’t in love with me anymore. So if you want to talk about unfair, there it is.”

“My girlfriend doesn’t want me enough to confide in me and can’t even say she loves me unless asked,” Jungkook felt his eyes begin to burn but he ignored the feeling.

“No, please, that’s not it, I just didn’t want to worry you if I didn’t even know if I was taking it or not,” you kept repeating, “I want to talk. I haven’t talked to anyone about it. I don’t know how everyone found out but please…”

“Y/n, I need space.”

You froze, “What?”

He couldn’t meet your eyes, “I just… I really love you and I’m mad you couldn’t talk to me about it but at the same time I feel like it isn’t my decision to make. I don’t want you to stay because of me, if you want to take the offer…”

He was struggling to speak as he began to walk away, “I can’t do this.”

“Jungkook I want to be with you, that’s not going to change so whether you believe it or not, you have a huge impact on my decision an—“

“Y/n, please,” Jungkook ran his hand over his face, “I want you to stay. I want you to stay so fucking bad but I also want you to do what you think is best for you. I can’t ask you to turn something down for me even if everything inside me wants to. I just… I don’t think I could go with you.”

“So I just need some time,” he said as he grabbed a duffel bag from his closet, “And I mean, let’s face it. We haven’t been together long enough for you to want to stay for me.”

“So you’re breaking up with me when I haven’t even decide—“

“No, I’m not. I would never. I’m just going to give you space,” he cut you off, “I’m going to give you time to decide what you want to do.”

“Okay but it still sounds like you’re just dumping me,” you told him as he packed a bag, “Feels like you’re giving me an ultimatum, you or the job.”

He took a deep breath, “I’m not dumping you, I just—can you just understand where I’m coming from? We’re supposed to be a team and yet sometimes I feel like it’s too much work for you to be open with me. You aren’t as vocal about our relationship and I am totally fine with that but sometimes you can’t even show me that you feel the same. You turn away from me, you lie, you can’t confide in me, and honestly if you really wanted to talk about that offer with me you would’ve done it in the beginning instead of push me away. That makes me feel like shit because I’ve been trying and trying with you and it’s like… you just don’t care.”

“I want us to work out, I really do because I love you, and I know sometimes you struggle saying it but you love me too and that’s why I just don’t get why you couldn’t just come to me first,” he kept going, “I had to hear it from everyone else and do you know how embarrassing it is that everyone’s been knowing more about my girlfriend then I have? I get that it wasn’t your intention but it’s what happened and it does make me feel shitty.”

He looked over at you and he could see the tears forming in your eyes and this time he understood why. He had finished packing his bag and went to you right away. He felt like crying too but he couldn’t tell you why. Like he said, he wants you to make the decision that’s best for you. If you want to try long distance… he’s not sure if he’ll be able to handle it but he’s willing to try for you. If you want to break up, he’ll be heartbroken but he understands the circumstances. You haven’t even been dating for a year, he can’t expect you to throw away your dream career for him even if it hurts to think about it.

He held your face in his hands, squeezing his eyes shut to fight back a couple tears and pressed a kiss to your boyfriend, “I love you.” He wasn’t expecting you to say it back, he was expecting the same old ditto.

“I love you too,” you whispered and he felt his chest practically squeeze his heart painfully. He left his lips there on your forehead, no longer giving a kiss but just basking in your presence for a little longer.

“Where are you gonna go?” You asked as he finally pulled away. He shrugged, “I’ll stay with one of the guys for a while, I’ll be back, I promise.”

You watched him rally up Bam and even though you didn’t want either to go you understood. If you could’ve just talked to your very understanding boyfriend about this then you could’ve saved both of you from this weird feeling. This is what he was talking about though, you’re not breaking up and yet thinking of him not waking up beside you hurts.

Bam ran over to you as Jungkook stood at the door and you leaned down to hug him too as he licked your face like he knew he wouldn’t see you for a while.

When he left it suddenly felt a lot lonelier than before and the second the door shut behind him he let himself cry. That made him feel ridiculous because this is not him breaking up with you but if you could’ve just talked to him, if you could’ve just been open with him things wouldn’t have happened this way. Some people might think he’s being dramatic but he’s changed and grown so much in the past two years and it would be a lie if he said you didn’t help him on the way, so to stop you from doing it too is like a punch in the gut.

♱

He ended up at Namjoon’s place where he’s been staying the last couple of days. He’s just the most understanding even if he doesn’t fully agree with how either of you have handled things.

“I don’t think you’re being dramatic Kook, but I can’t tell you that I fully understand everything,” Namjoon said on Jungkook’s fifth day of being there, “If Y/n takes the job offer and leaves I know you’ll be happy that she’s going after something she’s wanted for a while but also sad that she’ll be gone. Do you really think you couldn’t try long distance?”

“That’s the thing, I don’t know,” Jungkook said as he ran his hand over his face clearly stressed, “I want to try if that’s what Y/n wants but… I want to be able to see her, hold her, know that I’m going home to her and if she’s away, I can’t. I would love nothing more than to go with her but I can’t just uproot my life for someone I’m not married—even engaged to. A big move like that could damage our relationship and I just don’t want to risk it.”

“If she asked you to go, would you think about it at least?” Namjoon asked. Jungkook thought about it for a moment, “If she asked me to… and I knew she wanted me there, I would—but I know Y/n would never ask me, especially not now that I’m doing the studio.”

“So you already have it in your mind that Y/n’s leaving?” Namjoon asked. He could tell that his friend was struggling right now. He had bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, he’s not eating that well but he’s stubborn. He was upset, very, and that’s why he needed some space but at the same time he just missed you so much. It’s like he wanted to prepare himself to not be with you every day if you did decide to move. He was seeing if he could actually handle it.

“I’m just preparing myself for the worst.”

“I’m so sorry Y/n, like you have no idea how awful I feel,” Yuna said once while you three were getting coffee. You needed a couple mental days to think things through and she’s tried talking to you a few times but you just weren’t in the mood to talk. A week has passed and you finally decided to respond and go out for coffee with them.

You released a tired sigh as you leaned back on the small arm chair you sat in, “It’s whatever.”

“Y/n, this is my fault,” Hoseok said, “I just—I just wanted to make sure nobody talked about work before you could tell him yourself. I thought we were helping but obviously not so if you need to blame anyone, blame me.”

“I don’t blame you guys,” you said to them, “You’ve known Jungkook for a long time, I’m just… it was just a lot and I should’ve just told him right away.”

“I get why you didn’t though,” Yuna told you, “You didn’t want to worry him if you didn’t even know what you wanted to do.”

“But um, this is just me asking you as your friend,” Hoseok said, “Do you know yet? It’s almost been two months, don’t you have to make a decision soon?”

“Not yet,” you told him. You looked tired and mentally drained about this and that’s not what you want at all. “It’s my dream job but… it’s far and I would essentially be alone starting over so there’s just a lot to think about. And Jungkook thinks what he says shouldn’t affect my decision but it does.”

Hoseok and Yuna nodded understandingly knowing that if they were in the same situation it would also be a difficult decision to make. It was quiet between all of you as you thought about the job offer again but you finally gathered the courage to ask, “How is he?”

“Um,” Hoseok cleared his throat trying to think of a way to ask without making you too worried, “He’s, y’know, he’s just wanted time alone. He’s not mad at you, I think he just thinks you’ve made up your mind and he thinks he’ll hold you back.”

You groaned, “But he wouldn’t. He’s one of the most genuine and supportive guys I’ve ever met and it pisses me off that I just haven’t really appreciated him as much as I should have.”

“Y/n stop,” Yuna said, “He knows you love him and he knows you’ve been thinking about this a lot and that’s why he’s trying to make it easier on you even if y’know, that’s questionable.”

♱

Jungkook’s a mature guy, he swears it, everyone knows this but it’s been a long time since he last drank without knowing he was going home to you. He doesn’t know how to handle it. It’s been two weeks and he only knows about you from what Hoseok has told him—which isn’t much since he’s vowed to keep his mouth shut about what either of you say. You miss him, he misses you but he wants you to make your decision without him around. He doesn’t want to influence you on a life changing decision. He loves you too much to hold you back. He’s just also growing a little delirious now.

“This is such a fun night!” He yelled so loudly heads turned in his direction but he didn’t care. His friends tried getting him to walk straight but he’s a little too drunk for that right now. His arms were up like he just made the winning goal as he repeated himself, “I’m gonna get so fucking drunk tonight.”

He spun in a circle acting like he was on top of the world at the moment. Namjoon grabbed him by the back of his shirt, “Come on man, you’re already drunk, I think we should call it a night.”

“Let him have fun,” Jimin said laughing as Jungkook continued to walk in circles spinning himself so much that he was dizzy and with that feeling of puking. “He’s been a zombie for weeks now and this is the first time I’ve seen him relax. Let him get it out of his system.”

This was 100% Jimin’s idea and listen, he’s a good friend, he really is. He’s just the more carefree type. He feels bad for telling Jungkook but in his mind it’s not that serious and right now he’s just happy that his friend’s not passed out on Namjoon’s couch, sad.

Namjoon huffed as he tried to reel Jungkook back in, “Yeah and look how well he’s doing that.”

“I feel great, hyung! I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders! I feel like I can fly!” Jungkook said, spreading his arms out accidentally whacking some bystander.

“Hey!”

“Sorry!” Jimin said pulling Jungkook back before he started a fight with someone. He’s drunk enough to do that and he knows that Jungkook will be very willing to start a fight just so he could hit something. That’s the kind of guy he was before you and right now he’s got a lot of emotions running through him at the moment.

“I’m not!” Jungkook yelled in response to Jimin’s apology to the stranger and he watched him with a smirk. He was definitely looking for a fight right now, just like his old self would.

“Alright let’s get him home,” Namjoon said with a sigh as he attempted to help Jimin keep Jungkook walking before he really pissed someone off. Jungkook could handle his own but he’s a clumsy drunk so probably not right now.

Jungkook tried freeing himself from their grip, “No! I don’t want to go to your place. I want to go home.”

“Alright, so what are we still doing here?” Namjoon asked more annoyed now, “You’re just being stubborn at this point and if you really wanted to be with Y/n, you would be! So quit acting like this and go talk it out! You’ve been mad she won’t talk to you about things and now you’re doing the same. Look at how you’re acting. If Y/n was here she’d kill you for acting like a fool and I know you’re not actually having fun. You’re just acting like you are so that you don’t think about what’s going on and it’s not working!”

At that reminder Jungkook seemed to freeze up, as if he hadn’t been yelling at the top of his lungs about how fun the night was. Jimin looked serious now, realizing that this wasn’t all that okay, and he needed to get Jungkook back to Joon’s place to sleep it off. Namjoon was being a little cruel but it’s what Jungkook needed to hear right now and it's up to Jimin to be the sympathetic one.

Jimin pulled Jungkook into his side, “Let’s just get you back to Joon’s place and get you sober before you do an—Jungkook!”

He was nearly sprinting into a cab, swinging the door open and locking it before his friends could get to him. He told the driver an address and he was off. Don’t ask him where he was going because it was obvious. He’s going to you.

It wasn’t until he stood in front of his door that he realized his mistake.

“Aish,” he cursed himself as he stared around the concrete hall of his apartment. On one side was the cement railing facing the building courtyard and on the other was his old place. He grabbed his keys, it’s too late now, right? You’ll probably be sleeping and too tired to have this conversation again but he needed to see you. He muttered incoherently to himself as he let himself in making too much noise in his drunken haze.

Jungkook followed his usual routine. He knew exactly where to leave his keys and his shoes. He knew where to hang his coat and where the extra blankets and pillows were. He knew which remote was for what and where the outlets were.

You had been sleeping—or at least attempting to—but it was strange to sleep in an empty bed. It was a little hard to sleep when you were positive there was an intruder. You couldn’t even ask your big buff boyfriend to go check it out because he’s been gone! You should probably stay in bed and pretend you’re not home but you’re also scared to do nothing.

So you gathered all the courage you could and also your phone so you could be ready to call the police—oh and one of the dumbbells Jungkook left here before he split, just to be safe.

Now imagine if you actually used it on the intruder who was currently fussing with one of your blankets trying to get himself comfortable on the small couch. You released a sigh holding a hand to your racing heart, “Jungkook!”

He looked over at you, wide awake, “You’re awake?I—I didn’t want to wake you, I just wanted to be here when you woke up and—”

“Why are you here?” You asked as you went up to him. He resisted the urge to open his arms for you to crawl into. He was slurring on his words as he spoke to you and you can tell something was up.

“Are you drunk?” You continued to ask him questions and he was just trying not to seem that way because then you’ll ask him why he’s drunk. Jungkook was trying his best to seem comfortable. His arm was behind his head and his other hand on his chest, a leg kicked up on the couch, tangled in the blanket but it didn’t feel right. After some time he gave you a brief nod to your question and looked at you, “I want to come home.”

You turned away from him and for a second he thought you were just going to end it with him right now over the fact that he need a break.

“You’re so mean,” your voice was shaky and he sat up immediately worrying you would cry, “Y—you just left because you needed space and now you’re coming back in the middle of the night and… ugh I missed you so much.”

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook said, “I thought you made up your mind. I thought you were just trying to hold off telling me and I was scared but Y/n… I’m telling you right now that if you want to leave I’ll go with you. I’ll follow you wherever and I just needed time to realize that my home is with you no matter where we g—“

His breath was nearly knocked out of his chest as you fell into his arms. He’s never held onto anyone so tightly in his life. He held you like his life depended on it and you cling to him like a little koala sitting on his lap.

“I’m not taking it.”

He couldn’t hear you at first, he hadn’t processed it but when he did he froze, “What? Baby, I, if, what are you saying right now?”

You pulled away from his chest to look at him, sniffling a little, “I’m not taking it. I’ve been stalling making this decision because I thought I didn’t want to let anyone down but I realized it’s because I don’t want to do it. If it was here I would take it but I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to make you pack up your life and go with me. I don’t want to leave our amazing friends. I don’t want to leave everything behind and Bam wouldn’t be able to see Tannie.”

He laughed softly as he brushed your hair out of your face wiping your tears in the process, “Always thinking about Bam… but I want you to be sure about your decision honey, I want to know this is what you want because like I said, I’ll follow you wherever. I just don’t want to see you cry.”

“No, I don’t want to go anywhere. I want to be here with you and with everyone and I’m sorry I’ve made this so difficult. I just… I’m bad at making decisions and, fuck, I’m just sorry. I could find a job anywhere, I know they’ll hire me and I won’t have to leave everything behind for it.”

Jungkook felt mushy inside. Part of him still felt guilty that you were turning this down but he also knows that no matter how hard it is to decide on something, once you’ve done it, there’s no going back. Like with him, once you decide on each other that’s that. He’s not letting you and he sees that you won’t let him go either.

“And you’re positive this is what you want? You won’t regret it?

You shook your head, “I won’t,” sniffling, you added, “I love you.”

He smiled, “Ditto.”

You laughed softly as he pressed his lips against yours, “I’m so fucking in love you, Y/n and we’ve made this so much more difficult than it needed to be and I’m sorry for that.”

“Let’s just forget it,” you told him, “Let’s just go to bed and move on.”

He released a content sigh, suddenly holding you by the waist and standing with you clinging to him, “We’ll talk in the morning, just to make sure. For now I’m taking my crybaby to bed and tomorrow we’re bringing Bam home together because he missed his mommy so much.”

“Mommy?” You said even as tears filled your eyes, still being a crybaby, “I missed you both so much.”

“We missed you too.”

::.

wow okay this was a rollercoaster but like a good one idk

it came out softer than I wanted but whatever

also banner change cause Calvin Klein 🤭

personal taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt t @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @knudsenheggedel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura @lesoleile @aris-ink

ditto taglist: @exactlygreatcoffee @withluvjm @yungies @maar-leena @hoseokteardrop @tae-hibiscus @yeow6n @dna-black-and-blue @j3oooonsnsns @kayaluvs @zzztaegizz @urbestamericangirl @levis-bubba @stressed-but-trying20 @jungkooksseuphoria @terjeonbebas @sucre007c @ifthvss @kooklovee @pointofviewyugyeom @cherishoshi @iluvkoochie @aerastus

#jeon jungkook #Jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook request #jungkook au #jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook imagine #jungkook drabble #Jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook oneshot #jungkook x y/n

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ladyelissarose · 9 months

Text

———————— ☠️

“Mmph!! -aby! Hol- on. mmm.”

“No- mmhmm.. let me -ave you.”

You were too caught up in Simon’s passionate kisses to even pay attention to his pleas and listen to them. But it had been a whole two LONG months since you two have seen each other, all because you were sent on different missions. And now that you had him back in your hold- there was no way you’re letting him go.

How your relationship worked out was beyond those who knew, but some spark had ignited a flame between the two of you since first sight, and that fire was growing and never ending on both of your watches.

So on his thick thighs you sat, holding his cheeks with his mask bunched up at his nose, giving him open mouthed kisses, wanting to taste and remember all of him as you had gone endless days and nights without him.

Simon groped your thighs tightly after he had left his fingers printed on your hips, missing what you felt like under his touch while all over him, he needed to feel you again, as you were his and only his.

Teeth practically crashing and lips probably bruised by now, you two shared breaths and hearts were synchronizing into one beat, you two becoming one.

You moaned into Simon’s mouth after he tightened his hold on you and lightly bit your bottom lip,

“Si- mmph! Easy solider... muah!”

You gave him a firm kiss before pulling away, a little streak of who knows who’s saliva of the two of you is lingering on your lips. Simon wiped it away gently with the pad of his thumb as he attentively heard you ask ever so sweetly,

“Si... can we do a bath when we get home?”

His eyes holding only love and admiration for you as you sat above him like a queen on her throne. He couldn’t even think of you lustfully as you beautifully sat right on him, sometimes all he wanted was to be loved and feel it in his chest beating out erratically. Feel fully satisfied in and out by your simple touch and loving words.

His brown eyes were raking all over your face as he nodded slowly, his fingers rubbing small circles on your waist,

“Of course love.”

A soft smile made it up to your lips at his agreement, since he wasn’t always up for touchy-touchy stuff. But also because you were feeling touch deprived of him, you went on for more,

“With the bubbles an-“

He nodded once again but as he bud in to finish your words,

“-and the candles, wine.. kisses... and se-mmmmph..”

You planted a long kiss on his lips, cutting him off as you were feeling even more happy. Cherishing Simon’s openness with you, and grateful that he was letting himself go and giving himself a chance to feel love and peace.

“-on’t sto- mmph..”

“Shh- mmmph-“

Breathing hard through your noses as you both couldn’t- refused to separate or go light on the kiss, choosing to deeply demonstrate your love even if you suffocated for it. Tasting and feeling him was Heaven and a whole new boost of hope for you, a beautiful gift. And for him you were a boost of life and reason to live.

Simon’s strong arms held you up and close to him, you could feel every part of him under you and his scent was so engulfed in you. Everything of him was in the palm of your hand, and with the heart you have given him, you loved and treasured him.

From back then compared to now- there was a big difference on how Simon accepted affection. Before you could barely hold his hand without him flinching away, holding a slight fear in his eyes along with uncertainty. It was hard for you at first to adjust with him, and show him in the smallest ways, that what you had to offer to him was safe and full of love.

Baby steps is what it took for Simon to finally be here and open up to you, receiving and giving affection or touch. Now in the comfort of his own room or yours (for he never showed strong PDA outside, he had a stern reputation to keep and you agreed with it- he was the Ghost after all.) He’d hold you close and wouldn’t let go for long periods of time.

“I missed you... so much.”

Hearing anything of vulnerability coming from Simon was rare, but cherished nonetheless when it came, as it was very genuine and heartfelt.

You planted a sweet kiss on his forehead as his doe eyes continued to admire everything about you that was all his,

“I miss you too sweetheart... I’m happy you’re ok.”

A small smile pulled at his lips,

“I’m happy you’re ok too love... I am happy with you.”

The cold, distant and bitter Simon was no longer around once he got to know you, you had become the light and joy of his life, and you had changed him completely- you saved Simon’s life before he let Ghost consume him fully.

You were the balance between the two lives he carried, you loved them both equally and were present where he needed. Either to stand by his firm choices on the battle field or watch his six- or to cuddle him at night when he needed to feel you after a rough day or nightmare.

Simon let his hand rest on the back of your neck, letting his fingers weave through your hair before pulling you close again, foreheads resting on one another while your lips barely touched, eyes closed in peace. He left his hand there and the other rested on your back, yours were planted on his firm chest, feeling his calm breaths fill him up and steady his heart beat under your palm.

“I love you Simon..."

Simon smiled fully and pressed your lips on his, letting you feel it, and without moving or anything else he replied against them,

“I love you more.”

#call of duty simon riley #cod simon riley #simon riley imagine #ghost simon riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley fluff #ghost fluff #cod ghost #ghost cod #simon ghost riley imagine #simon riley call of duty #call of duty fluff #call of duty #simon riley x reader

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kasarasun · 2 months

Text

what if I made a thing or it already was that while Airplane wrote the world, Peerless Cucumber illustrated it (only the animals. And Binghe, fighting the animals.) And then then then

He'd totally do it on an alt account, right?? Peerless Cucumber can't be seen making fanart!! (And he's good at it. Like, wiki is using his art in the monsters and beasts pages (that Peerless Cucumber volleyed for. He also separated it from the plant section.) Because 1 its good 2 the artstyle is consistent 3 there isn't a lot of monster official art, other than that one with the black moon rhinoceros python and those other ones and 4 it's really that good)

Haha incomprehensible parenthesis nesting aside, Airplane is watching the forums, right? Not sure about other stuff in canon but he looks at the forums and the fanart and the fiction and most of it is probably corn and binghe and just a little bit of mobei-jun and also the wives tm but!! There's also that guy!!! The monsters guy!! (People would probably suspect 'Drawing the Beast's Ire'- or some other sex euphemism I'm not good at making those- of being Peerless Cucumber because 1 the writing style is the same 2 Peerless Cucumber is the number 1 contributor to the PIDW wiki and a lot of it is the monsters and beasts section and it makes sense, yes??) Anyway, Airplane shooting towards the sky suspects but not too seriously suspects Mr ire of being cucumber's fanart alt but uh uh that ends pre-transmigration section

So, Shen Yuan starts running about, right? Things seem really... familiar, maybe thats the word?- for some reason. This is because every animal and plant he's ever drawn, sketched- maybe even thought about but that's a stretch?- is his design. The firefly parallels hold their forelimbs like butterflies. That is how far down it goes. Maybe it doesn't come up until later, but beasts and monsters from fanfiction get involved, oc species, too... anyway,

Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky transmigrates 30 years (iirc) before Peerless Cucumber. He was an avid enough follower of Drawing the Beast's Ire to recognize that these are their designs! Here's where it gets really crazy. Xiao-Mobei comes along, and while he's still pretty young, Airplane can tell that this is Drawing Ire's design! Some aspect, maybe his ears or teeth, (this isn't a well built theoretical tangent) of Mobei isnt canon. Its Drawing Ire's. From that one Northern Kingdom collection. Whatever stretched his world building into coherence, completion, didn't just pull from fanwork, official art, whatever it could find, it went for Drawing the Beast's Ire's designs specifically. Damn that's crazy Airplane ahahaha moving on,

This is getting really long so I'll be a bit more concise, (want to know more? Talk to me. Please talk to me. I want to interact with the fandom. Ask me questions. Poke your fingers into my cage.) This all comes to head at the Immortal alliance conference. The monsters and beasts really start pouring in! And Shen Qingqiu/Yuan remembers his creations. However, he assumes that this is because like 1 other person maybe was Drawing ghost head spiders.

Hey, Peerless Cucumber really liked the monsters, right? The deadlier, crazier, more intricate, the design the better! So maybe, when he was drawing, he... added some things, really believable, logical additions, really just small creative decisions...

Anyway, the monsters that Drawing the Beast's Ire made were where it came to a head.

Lets have another Canon divergence. Maybe, during or after Binghe gets pushed in, out of the rifts comes a species that Drawing Ire created. It's beautiful, poisonous, beloved, and really quite deadly. Shen Yuan/Qingqiu, Peerless Cucumber, Drawing the Beast's Ire... realizes, quite like airplane before him, that he's illustrated, practically sculpted with his own hands, monsters from the Endless Abyss with claws and teeth and poisons as deadly as Peerless Cucumber thought that the really cool monsters could deserve. It feels like he's the one cutting, biting, poisoning his sweet little sheep. It feels like he's digging out the marrow from his little white lotus disciple's bones.

Ok it is shut up time 👍

#svsss #shen yuan #shang qinghua #idea vomiting #mobei jun #my writing #long post #text post

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ah-ga-seven · 10 months

Text

Fucking Up the Sheets | Jung Jaehyun

Pairing: Fem!reader x Jung Jaehyun

Word count: 2.8k

Genre: smut, slice of life, teeny tiny bit of angst, fluff

Summary/Warnings: nsfw, established relationship, soft dom!jae, mentions of overstimulation, choking and squirting.

Never in your life did you imagine reaching this level of domestic in your relationship with Jaehyun this fast and so naturally. You’ve been together for 4 years now. Both of your social circles have basically melted together, and the only place where you lived separate lives was at work, especially since you started living together not long ago.

Your friends always warned you that the first few months of living together was going to be tough. You’d have to re-figure each other out and get past the tiny differences you didn’t know about yet. Living together would be nothing like staying over at each other’s’ place or going on vacations for that matter. Because now…you had a household to maintain. As a team.

But to be honest…things worked pretty fine?

The only problem is that Jaehyun only knows how to vacuum and do the dishes. He does all the other ‘manly’ stuff. Like taking out the trash, carrying the groceries in and fixing a lightbulb when needed. Though there weren't many bulbs to replace in a new home in the first place...

“Babe, when I get back from work can you please change the bed sheets. I didn’t have time.” You were running late for work, giving him a desperate look as you stood in the hallway, ready to leave with your car keys and big ass water bottle in your hands.

He didn’t look up from his phone, pursing his lips together to show his dimples as he nodded. A low hum escaped his lips, letting you know that he heard you.

You stood still for a second, knowing him well enough to know he probably half-heard you. But for the purpose of avoiding a fight you decided to just trust him for once and not nag for not listening to you because you didn’t know for sure that he didn’t.

You were just going to have to put your faith in him for once. And hopefully when you got back…he did the damn thing.

Your job had it out for you today.

You mixed up a deadline which meant you had to stay later than usual to be able to make it work and now that it was 8 pm. You were exhausted, dehydrated and tense.

You tried to relax your shoulders and cancel out the dull ache in your lower back from sitting at your desk all day, but it was of no use. It looks like Jaehyun would have to massage yet another knot out of your shoulders tonight.

The thought of seeing him after such a long day made a smile creep up on your face unknowingly. Ah, yes. Home. It really is where the heart is.

“Babe?” you called out for him once you entered the house and walked straight into your living and kitchen area. He spotted you from the couch and got up to greet you. You had a rather exhausted pout on your face which made him chuckle at your cuteness when you opened your arms for him. He embraced you tightly, which made your eyes close in solace for a second. Jaehyun planted a kiss atop of your head and let go after his hands traveled to your waist. “I got takeout. I’ll heat some up for you while you shower, okay?” he sweetly suggests as he ghosted his thumb over your frown.

You nodded with a content smile, unknitting your eyebrows for the first time in a while. Your well-deserved weekend could finally start, and all you wanted to do after your diner was climb into your warm, clean bed to binge your favorite show together, but when you got out of the shower and into your bedroom, your smile faded.

Jaehyun hadn’t made the bed yet, and just like that your good mood was spoiled.

You kick yourself for not making sure he fully heard you this morning when you asked him to put on fresh sheets.

You were more fired up than usual given todays events and angrily started to remove the pillowcases one by one, making your way to the end of the bed with annoyed stomps to start unbuttoning the duvet cover and just as you were about to pull it off, the door creaked open.

“Food is rea…dy.”

You hadn’t looked at him yet but the little pause in his sentence was a dead giveaway for the fact that he knew you were angry. And that he KNEW he was supposed to do what you were doing right now.

So, he did hear you this morning.

You turn around giving him an exhausted glare. “I thought I asked you to do this.” you say throwing one of the pillowcases right at him.

His eyebrows raised in surprise, swiftly catching the cotton cover before it could hit him in the face. “I….yeah. True.” he admits pursing his lips together to show his dimples.

You just stare back at him at a loss for words. The least he could say is “I was going to” or a “Yes, sorry, I forgot, I’ll do it right now.” But he just gave you a corny ass smile as he leaned on the doorpost. Well at least he wasn’t trying to gaslight you…but why was he looking at you look that?

You sigh in defeat, crossing your arms over your chest to seem more intimidating “Jaehyun, for fucks sake please just-” he interrupted you. “Baby where are your clothes?” he bit his lip as he gave you a look up and down and that’s when it struck you that you were only wearing your panties since you just got out of the shower.

You guess you got distracted by your unmade bed before you could even think of putting something on.

“I-” you look down at your bare chest and up at him again. “Jaehyun. Stop. I’m serious. Nothing about the way we run this household right now is 50/50.”

“Hmm.” He wasn’t hearing you. His senses completely numbed by the raging hormones coursing through his veins as he looked at you through hooded eyes. He bit the inside of his cheek, his mouth watering at the sight of your erect nipples accompanied by the remaining droplets of water from your shower that remained on your neck and chest like glistening crystals. Even after all these years you still had the same effect on him.

He closed the distance between you two, brushing your hair back as his other fingertips ghosted from your neck to your chest, clamping on of your nipples between his middle and index finger. You jolted from the sensation, his cold hands sending shivers down your spine. “Sorry baby…” he mused, planting a quick kiss to your lips. “I have to get used to having you around like this all the time…” he stopped his sentence, looking down at you in awe as he feathered his fingers down your stomach. “I’ll be better, I promise.” He whispered in your ear before biting your earlobe ever so softly, and without warning his hand disappeared into your underwear.

You immediately felt your whole body relax as you held onto his shoulders for leverage. You were dumbfounded by how easy it was for him to completely manipulate you like that. So you knew you had to put your foot down and…and uhm… - by now you felt his fingers on your clit – What were you saying again?

A breathy moan escaped your lips as you throw your head back in bliss. His digits slowly but steadily rubbing circles against your most sensitive bundle of nerves. “Jae-” you whined, unable to think straight anymore. “Hmm?” he mused, adding a bit more pressure now, making you buck your hips forwards in his hold. His other arm wrapped around your waist from behind to hold you in place for what he was about to do next as he moved your panties aside. Jaehyun then expertly coated his middle and index finger with his saliva, giving you a devilish look as he slowly inserted his fingers into you.

You gasped at the stretch, but fully gave in by now just because it felt too good not to. You huffed, trying to find inner strength to voice something other than your incoherent moans.

“L-lets argue later.” You guffawed, making him shake his head at you. He smirked contently, continuing his ministrations inside of you. “Let’s not argue at all baby.”

Fuck it. He was right.

You pulled him in for a deeper kiss as he finger-fucked you; making him moan into your mouth at your sudden eagerness. The bass in his voice made your body react to him by tightening around his fingers which made him smile against your lips. He was keeping his pumping rhythm while prying your lips open with his tongue to slowly suck on yours and by now you were sopping wet down there. You could hear it.

“Come here.” He mumbled, bending down to lift you off of the floor. You locked your ankles around his hips as he carried you to the bed. Jaehyun proceeded to let go of you playfully which made your back bounce on the matress. You giggled, watching him get rid of his shirt and sweatpants while biting your lip. You propped yourself up on your elbows to see, ghosting your fingers over his chiseled abs and his happy trail as he situated himself on top of you. He was teasingly grinding his clothed core onto yours to demonstrate how he’d fuck you with just a bit more patience. Your wetness had stained his grey sweatpants which made a string of slurs and praises roll from his lips. “Always so eager and ready for me.” he mused ghosting his thumb over your clit once again.

You lost patience and with no time to waste you pulled him in for a heated kiss again as your hands fought with the waistband of his boxers. He quickly stepped out of them once they were at his ankles, and opened up your legs as he pushed your knees up to your chest. His semi hardness rested against your thigh and the sight had your mouth watering. You wanted to pump him, but he playfully swatted your hand away. “Not until I say so,” he says sternly as he pumps his own length slowly while remaining eye contact.

Oh? Ok sir. Period.

“Why?” you pouted.

He softened seeing your cute facial expression, making him kiss your inner thigh lovingly in response.

“Cause I’m not done playing with you yet…” he was lost in thought as he roughly grabbed a handful of your breast, squeezing it hard and letting go just to slap it even harder. He was watching it bounce up and down in awe of your perfect figure, licking his lips with a lustful glare. You gasped, the stinging being a mere distraction as you watch Jaehyun eye you like a hungry animal. “You’re fucking perfect, you know that?” he says squeezing both of your tits this time. You bashfully try to avoid his stare, but he grabbed your chin, making you look at him. “Eyes on me baby.” Fuck. You couldn’t help but obey given how hot he was right now. He moved down your body again, taking your panties off of you slowly just to dive into your folds with his face.

It’s like he was starved as he ate your pussy, sensually curling, flicking and flattening his tongue against your folds and your clit in alternating motions. He had your eyes rolling back, as you grabbed fistfuls of his hair which he seemed to love, because you felt him smile against your nethers. The pleasure was making your body shock with every flick of his tongue, making you desperate for that real gush of release. “Shit. Jae, please let me cum, please, please, please!” you begged pathetically as you screwed your eyes shut. He hummed in response, but it went over your head since he never stopped his menacing dance around your clit. You kept begging as you rolled your hips against his face, making him fuck your entrance with his wet pointy tongue while his nose grazed over your clit ever so slightly. He noticed how tense you got as you tried to stop yourself from cumming just because you didn’t have his permission yet.

He eyed you as you tensed up, you were trying to move away from him but he held onto your forearms tightly, pulling you back down onto his face as he watched you slither underneath him. Now realizing what you were doing he stopped for a second, continuing to roll his thumb against your clit instead so he could speak without losing friction.

“You don’t have to ask today baby, it’s okay.” You nodded feverishly, your moans getting louder and louder as his mouth attached to your clit again. Sucking and flicking his tongue onto your clit directly this time and with a few more seconds he had your whole core shocking and trembling as you squirted all over him and the bed. “J-jae, oh my god, n-no!”

Your waters coated his lips and face, making him lick his lips and wipe his chest as he pumped his length. A low chuckle escaped his lips seeing your fucked out state but with just seconds to recuperate and no warning he pushed his cock into you in one hard motion.

You gasped loudly as all the air got knocked out of your lungs and continued to moan deliriously as he fucked you with long, deep strokes.

“This pussy is mine.” he growled, making you nod feverishly. ‘Yours, daddy! Yours!” You shout.

He smirked contently at your words, and curled his hands around your thighs, pulling you closer so your knees would be at his sides before picking up the pace. Your slick was helping out with how pleasurable and effortless his thrusts were, but still you yearned for more.

You took his right hand off of your leg and mindlessly put it around your neck to show him you wanted to be choked without words, which had his eyes darken with lust even more. He smiled, leaning forward to sweetly kiss your forehead as he starting to tightly pinch the veins on both sides of your throat. He closed his eyes, relishing in how your core tightened around his dick almost instantaneously as a reaction to his actions. “Ahh…fuck baby…s-so tight..” It was getting harder for him to control his thrusts and moans already.

You looked into his dark orbs as tears welled up in your own, cupping his face while nodding at him to make sure he knew to keep going. He slowed down, sensually fucking into you this time as you started to gasp for air and that’s when your second orgasm hit you unexpectedly. You cried out, feeling yourself squirt again as you came which had Jaehyun pull out of you and let go of your neck immediately just to cum on your tummy.

“Fuck!” he was out of breath, his chest heaving up and down just like yours as you both gasped for air. His body was glistening with both his sweat and well, your squirt and you…you were just not on planet earth anymore.

He leaned forward, pecking your neck, chin and lips before making you look at him. “Are you ok?”

Jesus you were done for, but you gave him a nod and a thumbs up with all the strength you had left in you and rolled over to your side to close your legs and regulate your breathing.

He chuckled lowly, giving you a second to breathe and collect yourself as he started to massage your thighs with soft pinches in hopes to release some of the ache. He knew he was hard on you, but he can’t help it. Something straight out animalistic awakens in him when the two of you are having sex. It was one of the things that kept your love life exciting even after 4 years of being together.

Jaehyun looked down at the sheets and himself, still high on dopamine and pride. His chest was wet, as were your thighs, and the sight was absolutely sinful. “You don’t squirt often but when you do….damn.” he mused in approval as he grabbed the nearest towel to pat himself dry. You regained enough consciousness to realize what he was saying and looked down at him, yourself and the damn bed. “Oh my god. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize…it’s the hottest thing...ever.” he giggled cutely, making your heart swell at the sound. How is that the same man who just railed you into another universe?

“I guess I can go back into that shower,” you mope.

“Yeah…let me join you.” He mumbled as he helped you up from the bed by pulling at your arm and that’s when you both felt the wet sheets.

“…Aren’t you glad I didn’t make the bed now…otherwise it would’ve been all fucked up.” He says with a playful glint in his eyes, trying to hide the fact that the corners of his mouth were trying to curl up into a smile.

You glared at him, pushing him away which made him laugh out loud as he stumbled a step back.

“Oh, shut up.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I love you.” He kissed your temple with a smile. “I’ll do it while you have your dinner. Alright?” he beamed at you so adorably that you couldn’t help but give in and nodded. “I love you too.” you say before placing a chaste kiss to his lips. “But first, let’s get cleaned up ourselves,” you say pulling him into the bathroom with you.

[Masterlist]

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arcaneauthor · 1 year

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Soap and Ghost with a s/o on their period

Warnings: period blood, fluff

A/n: I feel like I’m bleeding out rn and need to vent

Ghost:

Is absolutely not grossed out by your period, I mean this man sees blood everyday, he’s used to it, plus it’s natural right? As long as it’s coming from a menstrual cycle and not some major wound, he’s good

Is absolutely clueless when it comes to female issues. Like he knows all the medical stuff of what’s happening to you and why it’s happening but as far as how to comfort you and make you feel better? Completely clueless. He’s never really had a close enough relationship with another woman to have to deal with this.

Not saying he won’t help you out though, just need’s a little guidance. Will 100% do anything you tell him to. He’d be your good little soldier. You want take out? He’s calling it in. You want a warm bath? He’s carrying you to the bathroom.

Would probably sit on the side of your bed rubbing a large hand over your back or through your hair.

Though if you don’t feel like being touched and want distance? He’s a big boy, he can take no for an answer and not pout about it. “That’s fine doll, whatever you need.” Though he’ll still be coming in the room ever thirty minutes to check in on you with an “You alright, love?”

Will give you one of his gigantic shirts to wear since you don’t want tight fabric rubbing against you right now.

Would do everything around the house for you without being asked. It’s how he’d show he cared since he wasn’t one for lovey dovey words. Feeling guilty, you’d keep trying to get up to help him, despite his many refusals. About the fifth time he’d eventually just pick you up over his shoulder and carry you back to bed himself.

.“Nope, you’re gonna sit your little arse in bed and let me do the bloody dishes.” “But it’s not fair for you to do all the dirty work.” “I’m not the one bleeding out my a**.”

Your snarky reply of “That’s not exactly where it’s coming from” has him slamming the bedroom door in your face. Would definitely just pop back in your room a few minutes later with a tub of ice cream though.

Soap:

Like ghost, he’s not grossed out at all by your period.

Unlike Ghost, I feel like he would know exactly what to do for you. Chocolate, flowers, basically makes you a whole nest on your bed of pillows, blankets, stuffed animals, etc. Basically, he would just be absolutely perfect.

This man is a major cuddler and you can’t convince me other wise. Would spoon you from behind while holding a heating pad to your aching stomach. Running his other hand up and down your side and back.

But, he too, would of course understand if you didn’t want to be touched. Would maybe joke around and pout at you a little,”If ye’ don’ love me no more, jus’ say that.” But would end up kissing you on the head, “I’m jus’ kiddin, that’s fine sweetheart.” And would leave you alone as long as you needed

If you live separately and your period starts while at his place, you’d be surprised to find that he already has supplies. He’d here your muffled curse from the bathroom, “Honey? You alright?” You’d be a little embarrassed at first, telling him what’s happened and that you, in fact, did not have anything with you. “Oh, that’s alrigh’. Check the bottom drawer on the lef’ for me, should be somethin’ in there.” You’d instantly feel calmed by how nonchalant he was being about it. Though that quickly turned to shock as you open the drawer. There’s an array of pads and tampons of different sizes. Even has an extra pair of underwear which, when you check the tag, is your size. When questioned, he just smiled and told you “A soldier’s always prepared.” Which you then gave him possibly the deepest kiss of your life just for his thoughtfulness.

If you started at night and bleed over on his sheets he’d make absolutely no fuss about it, instantly waving away your embarrassment with a smile. If you try to apologize for it he would be having absolutely none of it. Cups your face, “Hey, no. None of tha’. This is completely natural, nothin’ to be ashamed of. Nothin’ a good soak won’ fix.”

Would 100% be making all kinds of puns about it. “Gotta say swee’heart, your’ looking bloody sexy right now.” And you’d so not be in the mood. If looks could kill

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diejager · 6 months

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I can imagine human reader getting tierd of being the only one in the 141 without like hybrid powers and just pulls a full brainstorm and makes like spider man stuff. like we just make some web shooters or something and the boys when we show them are just O°O

Webs

Dumbfounded, that’s the first thing they felt. To combat your mundaneness, your powerlessness in the face of a world full of hybrids and monsters born with powers and using them. You were human in every sense, you were powerless, mortal and weak, but you were resilient, mind brewing with theories and hypothesis for a way to become better —greater so that you could match the other men in the Task Force.

It took you weeks of building and searching for help, having Laswell connect you to the brightest minds in both worlds : human and monsters, to have your little contraption built. It was all hard work and sleepless nights, cooperation between both sides until you had your little shooter in your hand. It would be the tech that would help you hold your own in times of need and when you separated, stranded on your own.

It was a surprise, certainly, to the hybrids you worked with, watching you swing objects and shrapnel left and right when they’re thrown at you. You used your newly-acquired gadget to make the area safer before you started on whatever wound Soap or König had, touching up any injuries you already patched up hurriedly, or wanting to clear the area.

Price had commented on it, praising your ingenuity to further your reach, being able to do more than asked of you. Ghost, Gaz and König were often the ones to watch you practice, the exercise you added to your drills to master your ability to swing from wall to wall. Gaz would fly over your head, ready to fly down and pick you up if you slipped or if the web wasn’t shot far enough. If Gaz couldn’t reach you in time, Ghost and König were the failsafe, catching you in their arms.

Horangi’s curious, his swaying tail and careful steps matching Soap’s excited wagging and skip when they asked you questions, a feline’s curiosity and a canine’s eagerness. You told them all you knew, the less technical parts of the construction without confusing them or yourself. You explained how it worked, how to change the fibre and how to use it.

Rudy was the only one tempted to try it out, letting you watch him fumble and stumble around with it while he hung in the air, feet kicking the cement wall. Alejandro would laugh, his smooth chuckle making both yours and Rudy’s cheeks warm, him from embarrassment and you from something warm in your abdomen.

Perhaps you’d ask a few bigger copies just to see how well the rest of the TF fared with your gadget, just for the fun of it, to laugh and look back at this memory with joy and laughter.

Tag list: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @yeetusspagheetus @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 6 months

Text

Northern Attitude

Next chapter

a/n guilty... guilty... guilty... I caved in. I own up to my weaknesses. Promised myself to never write for this man and here I am now. This is my first time so be gentle. 🗡️🫧

summery: mission gone bad, feels a little like enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort sort of goodness.

warnings: injuries, blood, bleeding out, alcohol, needles, death, trauma fun stuff.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You two hated each other. That was a fact, and there was no way around it. It was scowling glares, sharp jabs during training if you two were paired together, and bitter remarks thrown here and there. And the joy of it all was that Price had granted you a shared room on the base. First, the excuse was that there was simply not enough room; the team had grown. Then he said he wasn't having a team that was up on biting each other's necks out. So in conclusion, he had set it up on purpose.

Did it help? No. It was a disaster. The man was insufferable. And, in all honesty, you had no idea what you had done. You had thrown a sexist card at him multiple times because you simply couldn't find another reason for his unmeasured dissatisfaction as to why you shouldn't be here. Never had he said anything nice your way. You got it; the guy was secretive. You didn't need to look far. The fact that he never took his mask off was proof enough. But to be so against someone you didn't even spend time with?

"Clean your mess", Ghost huffed, dropping his wet towel on the bed. You lifted your head away from your book. At least you two had separate beds on the opposite sides of the room. "It's on my side", you said, pointing to the white line that Ghost had drawn on the floor like a kid the first night you dragged your stuff here. The rule was simple: you stayed on your side, he on his. The bathroom was the only exception. "Yeah, I have to look at it, don't I", he grumbled, tossing the towel into the laundry basket. You paid him no mind, your eyes turning back to the pages. "Poor you, does it mess with your posh tea time?", you chuckled under your breath, earning a growl from the other side of the room.

And that's how it went. More than not, you considered any word coming out of Ghost's mouth a win. Because a new tactic the asshole had adopted was pretending that you weren't even a thing. You were an actual ghost, and Simon didn't believe in the paranormal clearly. You fastened your vest, double-checking that your on-hand weapons were right where you wanted them. "Do you need me to do a touch-down for you?", your head darted up, only to be met with a smug-looking scot. Soap. You couldn't help but let out a breathy chuckle. "Do you think that if you keep asking, the answer will eventually change?", you snickered back, shaking your head. Soap shrugged. "You tell me, bonnie?", the man teased back. Leave it to Johnny to joke around right before a mission. You hummed, "Maybe I'm more into you undoing it", Gaz snickered somewhere in the back. Soap's smirk grew even bigger. You knew that it was all good fun. Neither of them would make a move. They respected you. To most, you were like a sister. They had become your family. One you never had. Before Soap could say anything in return, the back door swung open, and in strolled Ghost. God, he looked good. Six feet of pure muscle. And when this man was in his full gear... You allowed yourself a moment to appreciate the way he looked before dropping your gaze. Suddenly, you were way more interested in the guns on the table than anything else.

Johnny came to stand next to you as the team gathered around the table. Price loved to gather everyone around before it all went off. John was like a father to most. You were no exception. You liked to tease the boys that you were his number one. His girl. And well, by law, you were. Considering that he pulled you out of the foster home, you owned this man a lot, even if he said that it was all in the past.

"You know the drill; go in, grab what you need, and get out. Try to keep it clean", Price said, pulling three sheets of paper and scattering them around on the table. "Soap and Ghost, you're together. I'll go with Gaz. Sugar, you're alone on this; we will clean the path for you, though". It was supposed to be a joke that name. You wanted something cool. Something as cool as Ghost, but Johnny was quick to remind you that his nickname was soap "And sugar", He had said, "That's quite literally white death". So it stuck.

You nodded your head, only to find Ghost shaking his. "Got something against it, LT?", you snarled. His eyes met yours over the table. With the war paint, his eyes were even more radiant. "She can't go alone. She doesn't know how to hold herself back and will do something stupid", now it was your turn to growl. Scratch the fact that you found this man attractive. You will suffocate him with a pillow in his sleep when you return to base. "Want to go with her, Ghost?", Price said calmly, knowing full well the answer would be a hard no. "We meet in the safe house afterward", Price continued without acknowledging the death glare Ghost was wearing, "Come back in one piece, you bunch". Everyone nodded quietly, reaching for the masks, double-checking the cartridges and radios. You were all climbing into the motorcar when Soap nudged your shoulder. "I'll hold you to the undressing part", he winked, hurrying to sit down. Your anger simmered down as you flipped him off in return, his laughter booming. It was Ghost, whose unimpressed eyes followed you two, gripping the gun in his hands tightly as he chose to stare ahead.

It was nothing—the mission. The base that needed to be checked out was pretty much abandoned. A couple of kills. A smoke bomb here and there. It was easy. Simple. They laid a clear path for you to do your thing. Your small frame was what they needed here. Air vents weren't the best of friends with hulky soldiers. "Do your worst, Sugar", Price had muttered into the radio some time ago. Your response was a cold, "Copy". The four of them were left to watch over the main entry points. Yet sending you into the belly of the beast felt wrong. At this point, Simon had lost count of the number of times he had reached for his radio, ready to call out to you. But he talked himself out every time.

"Got it", your voice pierced the silence. Ghost's shoulders drooped. "Good girl, bring it home", Price called back. Soap looked out of the window, "We should go meet them at the-", but his voice was cut by the cracking that came from the radio. Then it all died down. Silence. Soap locked eyes with Ghost. "Price, you copy?", Soap called out. Silence struck again. "All good here, you copy?", the captain called out. "Positive", Ghost muttered into the radio. Gunshots echoed deep within the base. It was you. The noise had to come from you. Ghost felt his heartbeat picking up. He had to find a way to get to you. To cover you. Yet the rational side of his brain screamed at him, saying that there was no way for him to do so.

The crackling filled the air around him once more as they rushed toward the spot where the team had agreed to meet. "Abort", your breathless voice came through the radio. "Get your asses out", you were panting. Ghost could hear you reloading your gun. "Sugar, what's the situation?", even Price's voice sounded more panicked. And the old man kept his cool. They all did. This whole shit could have been a setup for all they knew. Even outside, the sound of bullets pierced the silence didn't ease. Simon wasn't sure what he was waiting for, but your labored voice still twisted at his heart, "Get. Out."

The safe house had never felt so quiet. Usually, at least Soap was a never-ending chatterbox. Now the male stood in front of the window. Not moving. His eyes were glued to the forest in front of him. Price was half a bottle down on the bourbon. Gaz's leg hadn't stopped bouncing. They all had minor bruises, but that was expected.

"We need to go back", Soap said, rubbing his palms together. "You know that we can't, Johnny", Price puffed out a cloud of smoke. He was no doubt thinking of ways he was going to break the news to his wife. "She wouldn't fucking leave us", Soap snarled back. You would expect a handful of army men to be able to hold their composure in situations like this, but... You had dragged them all out of a dark pit. You were undoubtedly good at what you did, yes. But you offered much more. The safety blanket. A proper homemade meal when there was time, and that was a lot for a man who had been stuck in the base for months, missing home. There had been so much more laughter and smiles since you joined the force. As if you had breathed back humanity and a sense of life into their ice-cold bones. And now they all had to go back to...

The handle of the back door creaked. All four of them reached for their guns in unison. But no one besides them was supposed to know where the keys had been stashed. A lucky coincidence? The odds were too slim. But the door jerked open, and they all lost the breath they were holding.

"What a fucking greeting", you muttered, dropping your helmet to the side. Soap moved toward you first. Simon would have loved to beat him to it, but he found himself sitting back down, his legs suddenly feeling wobbly. "Here", you yanked the chip from your vest, pushing it into Soap's hand. "Mission complete, captain", you eyed Price. Before moving to undo your gear. "How many?", John asked, taking a drag from his cigarette. The blood on your forehead was crusted. But the sound of drops hitting the wooden floor was constant. "Six", you breathed, moving to undo your vest, and that's when the first growl left your lips.

"You're bleeding", Johnny breathed, reaching for your shoulder, but you pulled away. "I'll lick my own wounds", your tone was cold. It was colder than it usually was. Ghost watched you slowly walk towards the stairs, but not before you had reached for the Bourbon. "I'll come to stitch you,", Price had called out, only to be harshly cut off with a harsh, "No".

You locked the doors behind yourself. Your vision was going hazy. You had managed to get away. You had no idea how because there had been a moment when you were sure that death was standing right behind your back, breathing at your neck. You had killed before, had blood sprayed all over you. Yet something about this felt different. Maybe it was the fact that there was a moment where you weren't the one in control. When they had managed to yank you across the floor by your ankle. You shivered at the image of a knife being jabbed on either side of you as you dodged blow after blow.

Your hands gripped the sink. You will do this. You will patch yourself up. Swallow a couple of pills and go to sleep. You knew there was no way you were getting your shirt off, so you wasted no time as you sliced the fabric with your pocket knife, wincing. Slowly peeling the damp material from your shoulder. Would this be easier if someone else did it for you? Yes. But you didn't want anyone's hands on you. Not now. Not when your brain was still fuzzy. The trickle of blood ran down your chest and through the sports bra you had on. You knew what followed next. You've done it multiple times. Drink bourbon. Splash some on the wound. Dig the fingers in to fish for the bullet. More bourbon. Stitch it up. You ran yourself through the steps one more time. One more look in the mirror before you force yourself to do just that.

Simon's hands were gripping the chair he was sitting on. Every little whimper from upstairs ripped at his composure. Stubborn girl, never knowing how to accept help. And a whimper, a whimper he could handle, but when a loud cry filled the quiet space, Simon was up and going. Every other step was skipped, and he was right in front of the second-floor bathroom. Hand on the handle as his shoulder hit the locked door. "Open up", Ghost banged his fist into the surface. "Go away", your voice was barely audible. Too long. He had sat downstairs for too long. He should have come barging in the moment you tried to play a big girl. Should have carried you back downstairs. "Don't make it bloody difficult", Simon's voice was husky. His own body ached, but he wasn't about to sit back and watch you bleed out.

You didn't answer him. "Sugar", he called out, "Open the fucking door, or I will break it", he wasn't even sure why he was bargaining with you now. But he respected your privacy. He always did. Even in the room you shared. His face was always facing the wall when he knew you were taking a shower. Just in case you had forgotten your clothes and would need to quickly get to your side of the room, this was different; his stalling could cost you your life. So he doesn't say anything else. Backing a couple of steps back, Simon braced himself for the impact. The hinges were old, so one shove from him was enough to break them; the rest he could handle with his two hands.

Ghost's breath hitched once more. "Stubborn, bloody woman", he hissed. The floor was covered in your blood; there was not a single clean towel. Your figure was slumped by the bath. "Price", his voice was more of a roar that made even you jerk your head up. "Get out", you breathed, trying to put distance between you two. "Like fuck, I will", Simon grunted, reaching towards you, his palm pressing into your shoulder. You cried out, your nails digging into his wrists, but the pressure didn't ease. "Fucking hell", the captain called from behind, "Get her downstairs".

"No", you hissed as Ghost lifted you, "Get away". But you knew that it was over now that they'd seen you. Simon tried to lower you down, but you whizzed in pain. "From the back", you say through gritted teeth. "What?", His eyes searched yours; you knew he was struggling to understand you. "The bullet", your breath, "from the back". Simon's eyes darted up to John, who slowly nodded his head, "Keep her up, then", and you could feel him pulling the rest of your shirt off.

"Liquid courage", a bottle was dangled right in front of you, and you could just about make out Soap's shaky hands. "I don't need it", you muttered, feeling the way Simon's chest rumbled with a disapproving growl. "Don't fight it, kid", Price called out from behind you, "You know how it's done". He was looking through the medical bag, no doubt making sure that he had everything he needed on hand. You open your mouth, and Soap quickly takes the hint, tilting the bottle upwards.

"Bite this and hold onto Simon's shoulders for me", the captain delivered his words like an order, but you still shook your head. "Jesus women, do you have a death wish or something?", Ghost muttered, hands moving from your legs that were still wrapped around his torso to your hands, pulling one of them over his shoulder and the other, the injured one, across his torso, so Price could work on it easier. But your palms stay pushed away from his skin. So does your chest. He was too close. You couldn't. Simon doesn't like his personal space being occupied by anyone.

"Deep breath for me", was the only last warning John gives you before you feel a pain like no other ripping through your back. And that was all it took. All it too, for your hands to clamp around Simon. Nails were in his skin as you yelled out, trying to pull away from whatever Price was doing. Simon's big palm cupped the back of your head, guiding you down onto his shoulder. "You got this, love", he muttered against your ear. The grip he had on you did not falter, not even for a second. "Almost there, Sug, just a bit more", Price said through gritted teeth. You could feel him digging through your back. The burning icy cold now.

Your body was working on its own accord. Hand reaching for the side of Ghost's face as another wave of pain ripped through you, making you holler out. Simon didn't pull away. And maybe you were high on pain, but you could swear you felt his lips against your palm. Kissing your skin through the material of his mask. Your breathing got shallow. You wanted to pull back to look up at him. Into his eyes. At least one more time. But your body felt heavy. Your fingers gently caressed the side of his face. The smell of him calmed you. You pressed a weak kiss against his neck, feeling a shiver running down his back.

"Keep her talking, Simon,", Price grumbled in frustration. Something probably wasn't going how it was supposed to. But it was okay. You had made your peace with it. "Come on, look at me", Simon pulled your limp head away from his shoulder, tapping your cheek a couple of times. "Keep your eyes open, eh? Or I'll leave my wet towels all over our room for the rest of the month", there was a tinge of something new in his voice. Some kind of light worry. Frustration. You blinked a couple of times, the corners of your lips turning upwards. "You wouldn't dare", you rasped out, your mouth feeling way too dry all of a sudden. "Why is that?", Simon asked straight away, his eyes not leaving yours. You let yourself breathe for a bit; you didn't have enough strength to answer right away. "I'll get you pink sheets and...", a cough made your body seize, and Ghost's grip on you tightened instantly. And there. There it was. A flash of worry caught his eye. "A fuzzy rug", you finished finally. Simon's palm ran over your sweaty forehead. "I'd like to see you try, darling", he breathed out, but there was no amusement in his voice.

"She's too fucking pale, Price", you heard Soap's voice from the side, or at least it sounded like it. "Shut up, Johnny,", the captain grumbled. "Don't close your eyes, Sugar", you felt another nudge from Ghost, making you blink up at him once more. "It's cold", you muttered, feeling your hand slip down his torso, falling limp by your leg. "John", Ghost said in a warning tone. He was trying to make you hold back on him, but your hand slipped away every time.

It was the way your hand limped against Simon's face that sent the last wave of panic through him. Your clammy skin pressed against him. And he was back there, back in the house where his family was killed. No, he couldn't lose you. Not now that he had found you. Not without you knowing that he also cared, just like everyone else. "Y/N", he called out softly. He had never called you by your real name. Never had a chance to see if your eyes would shimmer when he did. "Don't do this", he breathed again your not injured shoulder, "Don't you dare fucking die on me". But he was met with nothing. Only then did he realize that he would have to live with nothing but regret and your blood on his hands. All because he couldn't find a way to let your light shine through his cold demeanor. All because he was afraid of the fact that he had found himself caring again.

#simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley imagine #ghost x reader #ghost imagine #ghost cod image #ghost cod x reader #cod imagine #cod x reader #simon riley x reader

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macfrog · 7 months

Text

heart, body, soul cowboy like me chapter thirteen

surprise! happy friday eve. here's some cowboy to get you through it. life has been a little tough on me lately. sorry for the terribly long wait. but the end is in sight, dear readers. tighten the stampede string on your hats. we're coming in to land.

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: you and joel are at an impasse. you resolve it the only way you know how

warnings: age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), cursing, alcohol consumption, mention of dr*g use, titty appreciation, face sitting, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, major fluff, major angst

word count: 14.4k (y’all ask. mother macfrog delivers)

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🧡

You sigh. “I don’t want you…with…anyone else. I want you to…only want me.” His brows straighten. You sit in silence, staring at one another. Both daring the other to be the first to talk. But it’s his turn, and he knows it. So he swallows, and says – “I don’t want nobody else.” And that’s a thing. A great big, terrible thing.

It’s been a week since you last saw Joel. Blurred, tilting, pulling to-and-fro across your vision. A week since you last heard him; his low voice like the hum of an electric wire, tired acoustics drumming weakly through his chest into your heavy hand, laced through his own. Fingers draped softly across his swollen knuckles. You wonder if they’re still marked seven days later.

A week since you felt him. Felt your body lean towards him – gravity or dizziness or something stronger – as his weight dipped into the bed beside you. The way it has only a handful of times now, but enough to score it deep into your memory. Enough that you know the difference between him and anyone else, even with your eyes closed and your heart bleeding.

Enough to ensure that, for as long as you live, you’ll know and see each difference between him and every other person you ever meet. They won’t lower their head the way he does, or lift the corners of their mouth like him. Your name won’t sound the same, won’t sound as complete, coming from someone else’s mouth. Your body won’t magnetize to anyone, the way it does to him.

And that’s fine. The separation. The fact that he was a fleeting moment. The fact that it was over before you felt it leave, before you heard the door close behind it. It’s fucking fine.

Still, you let it hurt a while. Just a little while.

The gash on your calf has healed up, your hangover had subsided by Saturday evening. But your chest still feels tight, your hands are still restless. You lie awake staring at the ceiling, surrounded by the clothes you have of his; breathing in the ghost of his scent and breathing out pathetic, aching sighs. He’s all you smell, all you touch.

Except – he’s not anymore, is he? He saw to that well enough.

So you let it hurt. And you think you can just about make do with that.

“Hey, hon,” you dad gently calls, hanging on your doorframe. Your room is dark, drapes closed, the only light source the white light from your laptop.

“Hi,” you reply, with a break in your voice. Your eyes don’t lift from the screen. Jim just told Pam he’s in love with her, but she’s engaged to Roy. But she really loves Jim, she just won’t admit it. It’s cathartic, okay?

Dad steps into the room and awkwardly stuffs his hands into his jean pockets. “Awfully, uh…awfully quiet lately, hm? Everything okay?”

“Fine. Everything’s fine.”

It’s not a lie. You are fine. You’re so fine, you’re actually numb to it.

The problem is that for the last few weeks, you’ve been more than fine. The best you’ve felt in months – maybe even years. The most you’ve smiled, the hardest you’ve laughed. The warmest the blood has ever run through your veins.

And then you’re just – fine again. Back to nothing.

He shuffles between feet. Stares at the floor, where his shadow sprouts from his toes. “I was gonna head into town, grab a few things. You wanna come? Sit in the car with a book, maybe?”

“I’m good, Dad. Thanks.”

“Sure? Whatcha watchin’?”

“The Office.”

He nods. “Right, right. I, uh, I was thinkin’ of askin’ Joel and Sarah over for dinner tonight. You always have fun when they’re around. You and Sarah could spend some time together, y’know?”

Your heart nosedives straight from your chest into your stomach. The thought of seeing him again, this time crystal clear and not while under the influence of alcohol, drugs, or worse, sinks its sharp claws into your shoulders and sinks you deep underwater. His voice gets lost somewhere in the space between you. And when you finally come back up for air, back into the room, you gulp back whatever string of senseless words your empty chest initially offered up.

“Hm…” You pretend to consider the thought, then head straight for passive. “Whatever. Sure.”

Your dad’s mouth opens to respond, and you cut in again.

“I’m kinda tired,” you say, yawning. Trying to make him leave.

He’s not great at taking hints. “Kiddo, I am really worried about you. Weren’t you s’posed to be working this mornin’?”

“You ain’t gotta worry about me. I’m just a little tired, is all. Wasn’t feeling up to restocking tools and dealing hardwood to your buddies.”

It’s only the second truth you’ve told him since he set foot in your room. You never feel much like work, not Sal’s-fucking-Hardware-kinda work, anyway. But the thought of standing for seven hours with a bared-teeth grin plastered on your face, hands blistering from tearing open box after box of stock, shoulder slowly coming up in a bruise from the number of customers tapping on it…you figured Sal could do without you for one fucking day.

“You wanna look some more at other jobs?” Dad asks, and finally you look up. The blurry, luminous silhouette of Jim and Pam is strung in the dim air before him.

You shake your head. “Not right now. I have some bookmarked I can show you later.”

He takes a deep breath, unsure of which angle to come at you from next. Finally, with an air of resignation and defeat, he settles for, “You know where I am if you need me,” and closes your door as he leaves.

You’re staring intensely at the face of every character onscreen. The pixels burn into your eyes. You’re trying harder than anything to get him out of your head. It’s not working.

His hand through yours, his arms around you – warm, safe, protective; the way he smelled, sweet like whiskey, sharp like pine; the way he’d mumble, lips against your head, sweet nothings pressed into your hair; the feeling of his lips on yours, hungry for something only you knew how to give him. The look in his eyes, tender, knowing, loving.

And because he was the only other person fluent in your little secret language – a look, a nod, a tug at the corners of his mouth. His eyes settling on yours only for a nanosecond, one tiny moment in time laced with a thousand words that you translated as quickly as his glance moved across you. It all meant something. It all meant so fucking much.

All of it. You feel all of it as it sinks through your skin, through bone and into your brain. As it curls around your ribcage, holds tight around your heart. Every thought and feeling that flutters through on full display for him to read. And you’d let him, because it’s him. You trusted him. You – you might’ve even –

I mean, what the fuck, right? When the fuck did this happen?

Joel Miller. Joel fucking Miller.

Is this what you thought would happen that very first time you looked at him differently? Tidying up after pizza, leaning into you, telling you you’re nothin’ but trouble? Did he know then, that this was where you were headed?

Did you?

Your phone buzzes. You glance down at it through your tears.

Sarah: wtf is going on ???

You craft a reply as nonchalant as you can manage. Three little letters.

You: Wym?

Sarah: are u good??

You: Yeah lol. Why wouldn’t I be good

Sarah: idfk. weird. my dad’s on the phone to yours rn

That’s great. That’s just fucking great. He’s probably telling Joel right this second how miserable you are. That’s all you need.

You want to hold onto your pride, keep an air of casualness about you impermeable to even Sarah – but you desperately want to know what’s being said. What she’s listening to him say.

You: Yeah? What are they talking about?

Sarah: well now it’s just some andrew guy

Sarah: sounds like a loser

Sarah: we’re coming over for dinner tonight btw

You: Nice. See ya then

Sarah: u wanna come over here before? we can watch love island

You: I’m good. Gonna go for a nap

Sarah: you can nap here. come over!!!

You bury the phone under your pillow without replying. Sarah is like Joel in many ways, but her persistent nature is one avenue in which they drastically differ. Joel would – and has – give you space, let you mope; Sarah will probably text you all afternoon until she’s on your doorstep, takeout in one hand and a telling in the other.

So you drag your phone back out and put it on Do Not Disturb mode. She’s already sent two more texts since her last.

Sarah: seriously. would you come the fuck over. im only on episode 5 i gotta catch up

Sarah: even my dad is worried about you

Yeah. Good one, Joel. Fuckin’ asshole.

----------

They arrive at six on the dot, armed with pizza and a crate of beer. The doorbell rings once, you lean over a degree to glance down the hallway, and Sarah’s stepping over the threshold, her shadow of a father at her heels.

He’s rugged. Hair amok. He kinda looks a mess, sorta looks how you want him to after almost two weeks of no you. But he’s here. He’s right in front of you. And this time, the shape of him isn’t swimming across your glassy eyes.

Your heart swells with relief to see him again, only until it twinges from the wound that he caused, and it hurts all over again. You turn back in your stool to face the kitchen island, making some noncommittal noise when Sarah’s hand presses between your shoulder blades in greeting.

“Tyrique and Ella are kinda cute, but I don’t trust him. Dude’s gonna fuck her over for sure,” she mutters, shoving the box over the counter towards your dad, who accepts the beer from Joel with a pat on his arm.

He’s standing across the kitchen – Joel – as far as he can get from you. You’re sure his eyes haven’t lifted from the floor yet. But you scan him all over, from the loose collar of his shirt down to the cuffs, rolled halfway up his forearms; from the rough hair of his beard down to the soft tufts decorating the skin just below his clavicle.

You scan him all over. The body you know just as well with the flannel and jeans over it as you do without them. The body you’ve squeezed, and scratched, and bit and kissed – and the same one you’ve thrown curses and insults at as it follows you through his house.

If he looked you dead in the eye right now, you’re not sure you could look away. You’re not sure you could stop.

That is, until Sarah presses a chilled beer to your arm, startling you, and silently nods towards the dining table.

She sits on your right, opposite your dad’s seat. She resumes chittering about Love Island. Joel and your dad are still in the kitchen, stacking plates, cracking the caps off their drinks. And then he pushes off the counter, and slowly wanders over.

You watch his every move. Study him, like you’re about to be tested on it. Which foot he steps forward with – always his left – and which chair he’ll pick once he’s at the table – the one opposite you, ‘cause it faces the TV for when he and your dad watch baseball while eating.

Two for two.

He lifts the chair, pulls it back, and angles it to face Sarah’s. He places his beer gently on the mat. When he sits, he doesn’t pull in any closer. Doesn’t risk your legs crossing paths under the table. You pull your knees up, let your shins rest against the wooden ledge. Your dad takes Joel up in conversation.

“So, this Andrew. He’s the brains of the operation?”

The pizza is slowly pulled apart over the course of an excruciating hour-long meal. Sarah puts the next episode of Love Island on while you eat, points out her favorite couples and nudges you to ask your opinion on the girls’ outfits.

“Wouldn’t have gone with those heels,” she mutters, chewing, pointing with her pizza crust to some six-inch ankle-breakers.

You lean past her shoulder every now and then to pretend you’re as engaged as she is. Pretend you’re listening. Your left ear is tuned into the conversation happening across the table.

Your dad thinks Andrew Curtis is fucking hilarious. Hoots with laughter when Joel tells him about his untucked button up. Says, Oh, jeepers, when he hears about the way the guy tripped jumping down from his truck.

The storyteller doesn’t sound so lively opposite. Your dad’s slapping his thigh with laughter. Joel’s shoulders are jerking at best. You dare a glance at him, and he’s already facing your direction. He turns away before your eye reaches his chest.

Soon, the episode ends. The atmosphere dies arm in arm with your dad’s attempt at another conversation. There’s a thick silence between the four of you. You haven’t opened your mouth the entire meal, but even if you did, the tension would clamp its heavy hand over your lips, blocking any words from making their way out of your windpipe.

Sarah clears her throat, manages a tentative, “I –” and then the phone rings, piercing through the awkward mist like a bolt of lightning.

Your dad pushes himself up and trots over, grabbing the handset a little too hastily. “Hello? Oh, hi, Rita. Hi. Yeah. Yep, Joel’s – Sarah? She’s here, yep.”

Sarah’s head drops, hand gripping her glass frozen in mid-air. “Fuck,” she whispers, and Joel shoots her a look across the table.

“She’s – oh, yeah? Well, let me ask ‘er.” Your dad covers the bottom of the handset with a huge palm. “Rita has some…cross –”

“Cross stitch, yeah, I know,” Sarah says, and thuds her glass down. “I said I’d help her out with it. I bet she’s seen your damn truck across the street!” She jabs a furious finger at her dad.

Joel shrugs. “Ain’t my fault the woman has eyes.”

Your body jerks as if to laugh. You don’t catch it in time. He notices.

“She’s on her way over, Rita,” your dad continues, nervously smiling at Sarah as she pulls her jacket over her shoulder. “She’s – oh, sure, I’ll let her know. Alright, now. Bye, Rita, bye. You’ve to bring your glasses. ‘pparently the pattern’s pretty small. You even wear glasses?”

She huffs in response. “I’m gonna be there all damn night. I’ll just get you at home.”

Joel opens his mouth to protest, goes to warn her that she ain’t walkin’ home alone in the damn dark, but your dad holds his hand out.

“We’ll give you a ride home. You come back here once you’re done.”

She nods gratefully and struts off down the hallway. The door slams shut behind her.

Your dad lightly chuckles, sauntering back over to his seat. “And then there were three…” he says, sitting back down.

But the loss of Sarah only cranes the spotlight over to you. Only you. No one else to split it with. No one else to lend it to. You can feel your dad’s eyes on you, waiting for you to make a move, some song and dance for your company.

He lifts his beer to his lips. Nods to you. Makes a song and dance of his fucking own, when he says, “Guess who’s been lookin’ at grad jobs?”

Joel stares at him for a second, like he’s waiting for your dad to reveal who it is he means. Like it can’t possibly be the only she in the room. His thumbs tap around his own bottle. “Oh – yeah?” he stammers, and throws a haphazard glance in your direction. He seems to mean to address you.

You sit forward, choke out a, “Yeah, uh – it’s – well. Kinda.”

“Film?” he asks, and you hear the rest of the question in the tone of his voice. Somethin’ you like, ‘n not just your dad’s suggestion?

You nod, but he’s not looking. He’s studying the label of his beer.

“Film,” your dad confirms. “Shut me the hell up, didn’t she? Came downstairs with her laptop the other night. Where is it, kiddo – New York?”

Your breath catches. The answer cowers at the back of your mouth, terrified to show itself. You force it forward.

“LA.”

Joel’s eyebrows lift.

“I said she might be better goin’ back to school. Reapply for next year, right?” Dad looks to you, and your lips pull in an awkward smile. “…but she didn’t wanna wait around. Told you the other day – this place is like prison.”

He chuckles, but Joel isn’t laughing. He’s staring at his beer, his brows slowly lowering from arched and curious to dark and furrowed. And you want to reach for his hand, want to shoo your dad off and spill your guts to his best friend. Want to explain yourself, show him the webpages and application forms you’ve spent the last few days surfing through – want to justify yourself to him.

But so long as your father is sat here, bumbling to himself about the prices of college courses these days – none of that happens. You simply sit in a stalemate opposite one another – a million thoughts racing through your head, a million and one racing through Joel’s.

“…might change her mind, but who knows? She’s skittish, this one, she –”

Another bleating ringtone cuts what you’re sure would’ve been an endearing compliment short. You say a silent prayer of gratitude for whoever’s at the other end of the line. Your dad sighs and heaves himself up again, swiping the phone from the kitchen counter.

“Hello? Hi, hi, Richard. No, I’m not – well, it’s – sure, sure. What’s –?”

His head falls in much the same way Sarah’s did ten minutes ago. He sighs.

“Right. No, that’s quite alright. I can be there in ten. Yep. Alright. See you in a – hello?”

He drops the phone back into its cradle and runs a hand down the back of his neck, growling.

“Kelman?” Joel asks, jaw turning to his shoulder.

“You bet. Misplaced the damn keys for his site. You two alright if I head on over there ‘n lock up for ‘im?”

“He familiar with Andrew Curtis at all?” Joel quips, and then waves your dad off. “Go on. I’ll be outta your hair by the time you get back.”

In a frenzied blur, your dad’s tying his laces, grabbing his keys, tossing a jacket over his shoulders. He apologizes a total of four times to Joel, thanks him for dinner, promises he’ll pay him back next time he sees him. And then he’s jogging off to the front door, and taking every ounce of comfortability with him.

And then there were two.

You slouch back in your chair, listening through the silence as your dad’s car engine fades down the street. When the quiet humming disappears, Joel’s head turns back to face you.

You’re alone again. For the first time in a week. This is the closest you’ve felt him, even separated by the dining table and a fog of conversation that you have no idea how to begin clearing. There’s more weight to the silence between you than words could ever bear, you know that much. More to be communicated between your eyes than your tongues know the language of. But still, you can see him through it.

Like a lighthouse, shining bright and beckoning you to the shoreline. You can feel him again, as if there’s an electric pulse radiating off of him. And you feel drawn in, like you always do; feel that magnetic pull in your chest, only ever satiated by the meeting of Joel’s.

You shift in your seat. His eyes flit up. Your heart jumps, like it’s a sign he’s really still in there. And then they drop back to his lap, and your chest sews itself back together.

Your eyes start to burn with fast-forming tears. Your throat tightens, tightens, tightens, pushing them higher and higher until they pool across your waterline. Blinking doesn’t help, just drops them onto your cheeks, to be quickly swept away by the sleeve of your hoodie.

All you want is for him to look you in the eye, whisper, C’mere, baby, scoop you up and hold you in his arms forever. Fuck everything you said about the distance being good. That was when he was in his house, and you were in yours. He’s here, right now. He’s sat across from you. You’re finally on your own again. And he’s not fucking looking at you.

You let your legs down and sit up straight in your chair. It’s small, but it feels like a necessary step to silently tell him that you’re in the room with him. You’re here.

It lifts his eyes again. Not to you, but to your empty plate. Then, to the wet stain on your sleeve. You hope it stabs his heart a little.

From the shaky breath he sucks in, it seems to hurt just enough. He clears his throat. Pulls his gaze higher, higher, a little higher, until you’re eye to eye.

A wave of feeling, either burning hot or freezing cold – you can’t tell the difference – stretches across your body. It’s unnerving, and yet calming. It’s soothing on your wound, and irritating all the same. He’s looking at you. You wonder if he can see you.

You stare at one another for a few moments, drinking it all in. You can see him clear as day. You can almost see the shadows of his thoughts as they dance across the frosted-glass windows of his hazel eyes.

He blinks. Breathes in deep through his nose. And then speaks.

“LA, huh?”

You scoff. You don’t fucking mean to, but it’s the opposite of what you expected – and kind of wanted – him to say. Your whole body relaxes, though – finally relieved of the tension of the last seven days, even if only for a moment.

You feel lighter, like someone kicked the door down and this is the first gulp of clean air in your lungs. It’s small, insignificant even, but it does what it needs to.

Which is – it gives you the energy to answer back.

“It’s not a concrete plan. Yet.”

“Yet,” he repeats.

“I’m not running from you, if that’s what you’re thinking. Get your head out of your ass.”

He wants to laugh. He should’ve expected it.

“I didn’t say anythin’. I think…I think it sounds like a good plan. ‘n you’d be close by to Sarah, so.”

This conversation feels like you’ve been left alone for ten minutes with your dad’s buddy. Sanitized. Surgical. Which would’ve been what it was little over a month ago, but it’s not now. Now, it’s totally different. There’s more than just that one neat string between you.

You’ve held his hand. You’ve kissed him. You’ve touched him, in ways you’ve only ever touched a handful of people. And even then – none of those times have been anything like the way you’ve touched Joel. You’ve tasted him, you’ve felt him as he climaxes somewhere deep inside you. You’ve pulled him into your body, over and over; you’ve let him have you in ways nobody else has.

There exists a complicated, messy web of history and emotion, woven tight between you. The weight of it bears down on the surface of the dining table.

And he’s talking to you about fucking grad jobs.

“Could you just – stop fucking with me?” you ask, sincerely. You’re not angry, you’re not hurt. Not anymore.

Joel lifts his chin. Studies your face. “I’m not fucking with you.”

“Yes, you are. You’re talking to me about some job, like there’s nothing else to talk about. Like there ain’t nothin’ else we might have to discuss.”

His response is resigned. Bored, even. “What else do you wanna discuss?”

You narrow your eyes. “Oh, um, I don’t fucking know. Last week?”

Joel takes a swig of beer. You take it as reply enough.

“I don’t have any clue where you’re at, Joel. You pick me up from Frank’s, beat a dude up for me, put me to bed, ‘n then when I wake up, you’re gone. Oh, but you left your fuckin’ shirt. By accident? Or for me? Who the fuck am I to know?”

He holds back a smile. “I had work.”

“Right,” you nod, “Andrew Curtis.”

“That guy’s an idiot. You’d probably like ‘im.”

“I bet. I’m fond of idiots, apparently.”

This time, he can’t hold it back. A smirk spreads across his lips, soft and shy, but there. Right there. You could reach out and fucking touch it.

And then he nods. Leans back in his chair, folds his arms, and nods. The smile begins to fade.

With it, goes the breathing space between you. The fog starts to thicken again. The web tightens some more. Your chest begins to ache. Things feel normal for all of two minutes, and then they’re back to awkward air so heavy that you can feel it on your shoulders, feel it forcing you into a slump in your chair.

This whole thing is built on lies. Lies on top of lies on top of lies. The only truth there has ever been has been between the two of you. Two lonely figures, wrapped in each other’s arms in the eye of a storm. So –

Fuck it.

You sniff. “I thought – that the most we were risking was my dad. I thought the worst that could happen was him findin’ out.”

Your voice is quiet. Unsure of itself. One word carrying you to the next, not totally sure where you’re going with it.

“I didn’t know I was risking losing you, too, and now…now, you’re just gone. Like, you don’t wanna talk to me, you barely wanna look at me. I don’t…I don’t have you anymore, and it’s all fucked up. Do you know, I – I wouldn’ta done any of it if I thought you’d go?”

Joel flinches. Tightens the hold on his arms.

“I want you to come back,” you say, stronger this time. Louder. Clearer. You’re ignoring the tears sweeping across your vision. “Just come back. You don’t even – you don’t even have to touch me or nothin’. We can just hang out and talk, we don’t have to…we don’t have to do anything.”

Your voice wobbles by the end. Your lips tighten around it, shutting it off before you can say anything more to embarrass yourself.

Joel’s still quiet. He watches wordlessly as you stand, pile the plates atop one another and make for the kitchen. As you place them gently into the sink, you feel the weight of him behind you, reaching over to set the bottles alongside them.

“I ain’t gone anywhere,” he murmurs, and you twist to face him.

“Joel. This is the most we’ve touched in two weeks. Putting dishes in the sink.”

He repeats himself. Adds, “I’m still here. I still care about you.”

You shrug. “Then – show me.”

He steps back. “Show you,” he scoffs. Your expression doesn’t shift. “Show you? Like I didn’t just almost break my damn knuckles defendin’ you? Take you home in the dead a’ night, deal with all your drunk bickerin’?”

Your head tilts. He’s right. But you want more than that. More than spitting threats and leaving flannels behind. You want his hands, and his lips, and his voice. You want –

“…Lord, mighty me.”

Your dad’s voice follows the sudden jolt of the front door opening. You and Joel are already five feet apart by the time his body appears around the corner, one hand leaning on the wall, the other pinching the bridge of his nose.

“How on Earth that man has his own construction company, I have no idea. Called me halfway to the site ‘n said he found the keys in his damn pocket.”

“Always the scatterbrains,” Joel says, leaning casually against the counter.

“Sure is. You ‘n me oughta start our own, show ‘em all how it’s done. Anyways. What’d I miss?”

Before you can answer, Joel’s speaking again. He sounds in a hurry. “Just tidyin’ up. We were talkin’ about graduate programs, actually. You know what,” he turns to you, “I’m sure Sarah has some old brochures from UCLA. Might have some stuff worth checkin’ out. You wanna come get ‘em?”

It takes a second for you to realize he’s talking to you. His eyebrows are arched, his thumb pointing over his shoulder. He came up with the lie so damn quick, you have whiplash.

“I – yeah, sure. Yeah.”

Your dad runs his tongue between his teeth. “UCLA. Huh. Well, don’t keep Joel too late.”

“I w…I won’t,” you reply, following at the heels of the swaggering figure towards the door. You dodge his eye contact and dip your head behind Joel’s shoulder, thankful for his protective stance in front of you.

Your dad doesn’t say anything more – instead, he stands back and lets Joel lead you out. You steal a glance back at him as you slip through the door. His face unreadable, his eyes stick on Joel; locked tight on the flannel wandering down the driveway ahead of you. The word loops in your head as though the phone’s ringing again. Guilty guilty guilty guilty guilt–

But then the night breeze is dancing across your cheeks, and you’re following at the heels of Joel again, and you feel light as air in the wake of him. You climb into the passenger side of the truck and watch as he settles alongside you with a sigh. He pulls out of the drive, and his right hand sits idly on his thigh. You think to take it. Joel reads your mind.

He sits it on the armrest between you, palm facing up. You stare straight ahead and let your fingers slip through his. He knots your bodies together, thumb rubbing gently on your knuckle.

Another pound of weight lifts from your shoulders.

----------

Joel drives for twenty minutes before pulling up in an empty parking lot across from a church. It’s pitch-black and deserted. There’s a single streetlight over by the corner, illuminating a trashcan and not much else. You’re shrouded in darkness, save for the soft glow from the lights on the dash.

He switches the engine off and sits back in his seat. Your hands are separated. The distance between you slowly starts to grow again.

“LA,” he says, for the second time tonight, staring at the ceiling of the cabin.

“LA,” you echo, staring at him.

He looks down to you. Smiles. There’s something behind it. You can’t tell what.

“It’s not a grad job,” you say, forcing something up. Your fingers are twisting around the drawstring of your hoodie. “I was lookin’ at grad stuff, but there wasn’t anything I was into. The LA thing is a six-month temp job I saw.”

Joel nods. “What’s that look like?”

“Production assistant. Lots of behind-the-scenes stuff.”

“Mhm. Sounds like your thing.”

Your brows jump as you pull the tie around your finger. The tip turns white. “Might be. Job ad closes on Monday.”

He sucks in a breath. “Better get applyin’, then.”

Your head cocks. “So eager for me to go?”

“Eager for you to do somethin’ you love,” he corrects.

“But it would get me outta your hair.”

“I don’t want you outta my hair.”

A smirk sneaks its way across your lips. You nod to the view from the windshield. “Why are we way the hell out here?”

“Because your dad bombed our conversation, ‘n I figured we weren’t done.”

“Then talk.”

He licks his lips. Folds his arms, settles deeper into his seat. He turns a little more to face you. The single light from outside catches in his iris, like that same lighthouse beacon you could see earlier. Distant, far off, but there. Still there.

“I owe you an apology,” he says. “I…I thought what we were doin’…What I was doin’…I thought I was causing you more hurt ‘n harm than good. I was scared it’d gone too far. Scared it wasn’t okay anymore.”

“Was it ever okay?”

He shifts again, uncomfortably. In the dim light, you see his face pull. He squints, wobbles his head in consideration. “No. It wasn’t. But we did it anyways, you ‘n me. We made that decision together.”

“Right. And then you went and made the complete opposite decision, alone.”

He’s nodding. He knows. And you think you know, too. It fucking sucked, losing him – but you get it. What was the big plan? How far were you going to let it go? Someone had to pull the plug at some point. Someone had to cut the thing loose.

You lean closer to him. “I just…I wish you’d let me fight back a little. Wish you’d heard me out more. I know what we’ve done isn’t right. I know that. But I – I fucking –”

You sigh. It leaves your mouth shaky and unsure of itself.

There’s something more. Something at the back of your tongue, itching to separate into the dense space between you. Bigger. Stronger. Heavier.

“I missed you,” you concede, shaking your head. “That’s all.”

Joel’s eyes fall shut with a wince when you say it, like it physically hurts to hear the words come out of your mouth. But he’s clearer, now – the fog is slowly shrinking away. The words behind his eyes seem to light them in a warm glow. Missed you too, baby.

His hand opens up on the armrest again. Yours falls into it instantly.

He clears his throat then, and says, “Also owe you an apology for – for the Lois thing. I know I should’ve explained a lot sooner, ‘n I’m sorry I had you thinkin’ what you were thinkin’. I didn’t – I didn’t know it was such a big deal to you. Thought you’d know I wouldn’t…do that.”

“I think I did,” you tell him. Your nails run up and down his fingers. “Deep down. Wasn’t so much about her as it was about me.”

“About you?”

You shrug. “Yeah. Me, us, this. It was more of a, Why wouldn’t he want someone like her?, y’know? No lying, no secrets. And she’s old, like you.”

“Easy.”

You smile. “She’s nice. I know she is. My dad went on for five whole minutes about how good you’d be together when I asked ‘im. So – why wouldn’t you wanna be with her, right?”

It’s rhetorical. Joel knows. But he answers it anyways.

“She is nice,” he agrees, “but I ain’t interested. To tell you the truth, darlin’, I was a little preoccupied worrying my ass off about you to even look twice at the woman.”

You freeze for a second. Stare at the outline of his jaw, the jagged bristles of his beard; the soft sweep of hair silhouetted by the moonlight outside. He’s still Joel – even in the darkness, even in the fog. Even when you can’t see, hear, or touch him – he’s still there. Thinking about you. Worrying about you.

“Well,” you sniff, “you don’t gotta worry anymore. I just…I didn’t like the thought of it.”

His head tilts. Beckons you to continue.

You sigh. “I don’t want you…with…anyone else. I want you to…only want me.”

His brows straighten. You sit in silence, staring at one another. Both daring the other to be the first to talk. But it’s his turn, and he knows it. So he swallows, and says –

“I don’t want nobody else.”

And that’s a thing. A great big, terrible thing.

“But,” he continues, almost immediately, “this has gotta be – I’ve gotta do right by you. Gotta be honest, now –”

“Wait,” you interrupt, “can you just – stop acting like it’s all you?”

Joel falls quiet. His brows knit together.

“Stop saying things that make it sound like you’re the only one in this. I’m in it, too. I want it. I want you.”

“Baby, it’s not as simple as –”

“Joel,” you take his arms and pull yourself closer to him, legs propped against the center console, “I want you. This. I want us. All of it, I want all –”

Your body is being tugged closer to him, lifted nearer, and his chin bumps against yours, and his eyelashes almost brush against yours when your foreheads link, and his breath sweeps hot and needy across yours, and he – he kisses you.

You stop breathing. You don’t care whether or not it ever comes back. Oxygen replaced by him. Everything replaced by him.

His tongue slips past your lips, his hand glides across your hair to cup the back of your head. He locks you into his body, lets you rest your arms across his shoulders. Your lips find a rhythm against one another; warm, wet, tender.

His free hand cups your cheek, holds your mouth to his just a second longer, before he pulls away, and gives you one last kiss. Softest of them all. Seals the fucking deal.

“We okay?” he mumbles, and you lift your head from his palm. You sit frozen for a second, just looking at him. Looking and looking and looking.

“We’re good.”

He smiles then. A genuine smile. “I thought,” he whispers, glancing around the quiet parking lot, “I could take you on a date.”

So that’s why he brought you out here.

“A date?”

“Mhm. Never been on one, have we?”

“Never could.”

He nods in agreement. “Just ice cream. For now. Thought I’d show you some of my moves.”

“You got moves?” you snicker.

“I’m a catch, darlin’. The ladies swoon for me.”

“Alright, never say that to me again.”

Joel laughs. “There’s a place right around the corner. ‘s go.”

He climbs out of the truck and wanders off towards the sidewalk, and you follow. He looks down at you as you walk. His cheeks swell with the smile on his face, dimples at the edges of his lips.

It’s quiet; quieter than you’d expect, not that you’re complaining. With the sun almost set, you’re doused in light only when you wander under a streetlight. So, it’s no surprise when Joel’s eyes quickly scan the street up ahead, and his hand reaches down for yours.

Your stomach flips. You’re doing everything you can not to let him feel your pulse in your wrist, but you’re pretty sure you can, because he leans his shoulder against yours and asks if you’re okay.

“Good,” you choke out, relieved to have just passed a streetlight that might give away the blush on your cheeks.

Approaching on the right is a sickly-sweet, pastel-painted store front; fairy lights decorating the window, wireframe tables and chairs dotted outside. A bell dings when Joel pushes the door open, holding it open for you to step inside.

It’s…dainty. Sweet. Everything is either teal or pink or white. There’s a giant ice cream cone stood in the corner. There’s a gumball machine opposite it. The lighting is a little garish – kind of reminds you of sitting in the dentist chair, eyes squinting up at the bright white light overhead.

You’re fucking surprised to be stood in here with Joel Miller, of all people. He sticks out like a sore thumb; his worn jeans and crumpled flannel against the minty gleam of the parlor like an earthy tree sprouting in the middle of that same dentist’s office. It makes you giggle, as he leads you over to the counter.

A boy with a teal uniform meets him over a glass case full of different ice cream flavors. His name badge reads Ben. “What can I get you?” he asks, scoop in hand. Your lips press against one another to stop your laugh from escaping.

Joel turns to look at you. He nudges you with his elbow when you don’t return his glance, too focused on Ben’s pink baseball cap, the logo of the shop printed on top.

“Uh,” you consider, glancing down, “I’m good with any.”

Joel sighs, lips thinning. “Am I gonna pick a flavor, ‘n then you decide you don’t like it?”

“Nope. Promise.” You smile innocently, and he turns back to the server.

“I’ll take one scoop of the cookie dough, and, uh…one of the coffee, please.”

When Ben dips to scoop the order into two little tubs, you mock gasp at Joel.

“What?”

“Coffee?”

He shrugs.

“I took you for a vanilla man.”

Ben stands straight and punches some numbers into the cash register. Joel hands him a ten.

“What about me makes you think I’m into vanilla?” he asks in a low voice.

You bat your eyelashes at him. A dark thought crosses your mind, but you think better of voicing it and save Ben the embarrassment of potentially hearing you.

Joel thanks him and takes both tubs in one hand. You make for a booth by the window, but his hand quickly slinks around your waist, diverting you back to the door.

“Nuh-uh.”

“What?” you ask, spinning around.

Joel continues walking, backing you out of the shop. “I am not sittin’ in here. Got a fuckin’ headache already from five minutes in the place.”

“But it’s so cute,” you protest, giggling. “You don’t want your picture taken with the giant cone?”

“Get the hell out,” he mumbles, shoving you across the tiled floor back out to the sidewalk. He can’t mask his own grin, spilling out behind you, taking your hand in his.

You snort as he drags you back along the street. “Maybe I should forget about LA and get a job in there. Drive myself insane.”

“Maybe you should,” Joel agrees. “Least then you’d have an excuse for it.”

You slap his chest. “Where are we goin’?”

“’s just go back to the truck. Quieter. Less fluorescent lights.”

He unlocks it a few paces away, but you stroll past your door.

“What are you doin’?” Joel asks when you pull yourself up into the bed.

“C’mon,” you call back, settling against the back window, “it’s a nice night. Who are we hiding from?”

He tosses it over in his head and cocks one eyebrow. Fair enough. He climbs up and passes you the ice cream, shrugging his shirt from his shoulders. He throws it over your bare legs and sits down beside you, grunting as he does.

You smirk when he rests back.

“I’m almost fifty, darlin’,” he warns, reaching for his tub.

Your lips curve and you nod, digging the little plastic spoon into your dessert. You stretch your legs out and cross your ankles, watching in quiet contentment as the cars roll by, squealing to a halt at the traffic lights. Lights are coming on in windows, curtains are being drawn. Joel’s legs lie against yours, joined at the hip, shoulders brushing off one another.

This is the most peace you’ve had in a fortnight. Sat in the back of his truck, no eyes on you, watching the comings and goings of some back street in the city. You talk about nothing, for the first time in what’s felt like forever. You talk about films, and music, and all the stuff that seemed so unimportant before. Now, it all feels imperative. Feels like a life-or-death thing. What’s your favorite movie? You know my favorite movie, baby. But tell me again. Just so I know for sure. Just so that – if anything happens.

You listen when he answers. You watch his mouth as he says the words. For all the times you took it for granted before. For all the times you thought it was insignificant. It’s all significant, now. It all means something. It’s just more strings to the web between you, each one knotting you closer and closer together.

And you talk about what you’ve missed. The two weeks you’ve spent apart. You catch him up as if he was only gone on vacation. As if he was always meant to come back in the end.

“The guy with the weed – same guy you punched – he was –” gulp, “– what was his name again? Knicks? No –”

Joel snorts, spoon scraping around the edge the tiny pot in his huge hand. “Knicks?”

You close your eyes, waving your hand like it’ll urge him to remember the name of a guy he took no time getting to know before he floored him. “No, it wasn’t Kn…Knox! It was Knox, and he –”

“Kind of a fuckin’ name is Knox? Knox?”

“Are you gonna let me talk, or what?” you quip, and Joel brings his wrist up to his mouth to mask his laugh.

“Sorry, sorry, sweetheart. Go ahead. Knox had the weed.��

“Knox had the weed, and…he…Fuck, I can’t even remember where I was goin’ with that.” You shake your head and lean it back against the windowpane.

He laughs. For real. A Joel laugh. His shoulders jerk with the force of it. “You were gonna tell me about his friends, I think. Somethin’ about his friends.”

It sparks back up in your brain – the memory. “Right! Right. His friends – that dude with the glasses? That was Zack.”

Joel stares at you blankly, tongue in his cheek. “Zack?”

“Big guy, red face. Buck teeth. From Costco?”

His jaw slackens. He remembers. “I fuckin’ – I knew I’d seen that kid’s face before. That was him?”

You nod. Uhuh.

“Damn.” He chuckles. “He looked at me like I was a wild bear.”

You toss your head, roll your eyes. “Well.”

He laughs again. Knocks your legs with his own.

“Good call, by the way,” your lips mumble around the shape of your spoon, “cookie dough. it’s nice.”

“Wanna try mine?”

“Really?” Your face contorts, eyes screwing. “Coffee?”

“’s good. Here.”

He holds out a spoonful.

“Yeah, nice to you, who drinks, like, thirty of ‘em a day.”

Joel responds by pushing the spoon to your lips and you oblige, opening up and letting him feed you the ice cream.

It’s not bad. It’s ice cream, it can’t be bad. But it definitely isn’t good, and the way your lips purse and your neck jerks lets Joel know exactly how you feel about it. He scoffs, wiping a little from your lips with his thumb and sucking it clean.

“You don’t like it?”

“Why is it…bitter? Eugh.”

He laughs to himself as he loads up another spoonful. “It’s an acquired taste.”

“Well, I am not interested in acquirin’ it. You want some of the cookie dough?”

He shakes his head. “You enjoy.”

You both turn back to the street ahead. Joel’s arm is warm at the side of yours, his shoulder right there for you to lean your head on.

He places a kiss to your head when you do.

“What do you think he’d do if he found out?”

You’re not sure where it comes from. Neither is Joel, apparently, from the way he clears his throat and squirms ever so slightly. He knows exactly who you mean.

“I, uh…I don’t like to imagine.”

“It scare you?”

He takes a deep breath. “Naw. I just got better things to do with my imagination, is all.” He prods your arm with his. Picturin’ you.

“Ha. You reckon he’d kill you?”

“Probably.”

“He couldn’t kill you. Wild bear.”

“Well, I reckon he might try.”

“I think he’d call the cops.”

Joel’s head lifts from yours and falls back against the truck with a laugh.

“Help, Officer,” you mimic your dad’s twang,“my grown adult daughter is sleeping with someone!”

Joel’s shoulders slowly stop moving.

“Is that all we’re doin’?” he asks.

“Huh?” You lift your head and look at him. His dark eyes reflect the city lights in the distance.

“Is that all we’re doin’? Sleepin’ together?” His voice is gentle, honest. Genuinely asking, seeking out what you think.

You consider it, tryna sound casual. You know what he’s getting at.

“That’s all we’ve been doin’. Help, Officer, my daughter’s grabbing ice cream with someone? Better?”

He hums. Looks down at the empty tub in his hands. Looks back up to your lips. Draws nearer to you, holds your chin with one finger, looks you dead in the eye, and whispers,

“How about, Help, Officer, my daughter made someone fall in love with her?”

Your breath catches. Your hands fall limp into your lap. You blink away tears.

“You – No, that’s – You gotta say it. You gotta actually tell me, ‘cause I’m not – I don’t wanna misinterpret – We haven’t –”

You’re buffering. Your brain malfunctioning. Your tongue can’t decide which of the words at the back of your throat, all desperate to escape, to let through first.

Joel’s just smiling, watching you stutter and stammer your way through a sentence that leads you nowhere, desperately trying to compute what he’s just said because he’s finally fucking admitted it. He’s finally letting you know, giving you access to a part of him he’s been keeping from you for who knows how long.

Even though all this time it’s been the one thought running through your head that hasn’t passed your lips, it reverberates around your ears like it’s the last thing you ever expected him to say.

Joel’s hand moves to your neck, just below your ear. “Baby,” his thumb rubs your skin, “you know I love you.”

A gasp flees from your lips. Your ice cream is thrown to the truck bed, probably spilling over, and you don’t care. You leap into his lap, arms around his neck, and kiss him all over.

Joel’s laughing, returning what kisses he can, squeezing you with his big hands.

“I love you,” he says again when you come up for air, and it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard in your life. You sit your forehead against his, whispering breathlessly,

“Fuck, I love you, too.”

You two stare at each other, eyes scanning every part of the other’s face, mapping every mark, line, scar, like it’s the first time you’ve ever seen each other.

Guess it is, right?

This is the first time you’re looking at the man you love and you’re not afraid of it. The first time your chest swells and you don’t gulp it back, the first time you let him feel your heart pounding against the wall of your chest.

It’s the first time you look into his eyes, dark eyelashes and fine lines decorating deep warm brown, and think those three words…and know you can say them. Know neither of you will be spooked, neither of you will try to push them back down where they came from.

I love you. That’s all there is between you now. Your cards are flat on the table, Joel’s, too. Game over. You know everything there is to know about each other. You know each other.

You’ve sunk down his body, turned so your back curves into his chest, his chin resting on your head. Safely encased in his body, sat between his thighs. His hand runs up and down your thigh, lighting drawing lines and circles and writing words you don’t care to guess, ‘cause you probably already know ‘em.

Love hums between the two of you, keeping you warm; your bodies pressed together, hearts beating just inches apart. You blink your eyes open and the single streetlight sails back into your vision – bright as the moon, stirring you from your tranquil bliss.

“Do you,” you turn, and Joel fixes your hair, presses his lips to your forehead, “do you tell all the girls that on the first date? Was that just one of your moves?”

He snorts, and answers by pulling you in to give you a tender kiss.

No. Just you.

“You ready to go?” he asks when your lips part.

“Mhm. Take me home, cowboy.”

----------

His house is dark against the dusky sky. The headlights illuminate the garage door as he pulls up in the drive, squeezing your hand once as the truck comes to a halt.

“And then…” Joel says, holding a finger up to you. Wait right here.

He gets out of the driver’s side and you watch the shadow of him jog around the truck, stopping at your door. He opens it, and holds a hand out for you to take.

You choke on a laugh. “That is…”

“That is what?”

“…so cheesy. You really do that?”

“Uhuh. C’mon.”

Your fingers lace through his and you hop out of the truck. Joel shuts the door behind you and extends his elbow, and you link your arm through his. His hand warmly rests on top of yours.

You both wander over to his porch where he stops, letting you walk up the steps alone. When you reach the top one, only just taller than him on the path, hands still interlinked, you look down.

“Then I say, Thank you for a lovely evenin’, and,” he lifts your hand, pressing his lips to your knuckles, “then…” Joel holds his arms out. Voila. Just like that.

“Wow. I feel…honored.”

“You should.”

“Not even a proper kiss?”

“I just kissed your hand, baby. You didn’t like that?”

“You don’t ask to come inside?”

He scoffs. “Nope. What would I want to come inside for?”

You grin. Shrug your shoulders. Start walking backward to his door.

“Well, I am exhausted after our date, Mr. Miller. I do think,” yawn, “I should be gettin’ ready for bed.”

Joel lowers his head, eyes trained on you, smirk growing on his lips. “Is that so?”

You nod.

He starts to climb the steps.

“I’m sure I’ll be expectin’ a call from you,” you mewl, exaggerated Southern accent crooning to him. Your back bumps against the front door. Joel’s on the porch now. You bite your lip.

“Oh, I’m sure you will,” he returns, his shadow creeping over you. He reaches your body and his arms come to rest on the frame right above your head.

You hook your hands around his shoulders.

“You really don’t wanna come in?” you whisper, and his jaw ticks.

“I wouldn’t want to be ungentlemanly.”

Leaning in, lips against his ear, you whisper soft enough to shake the breath as it falls from his lips.

“And what if I asked you, nicely, to take me inside and fuck me good ‘n hard until I can’t walk?”

Joel’s eyes pool black when you lean away, head resting back on his door. Your gaze is heavy with lust, eyelashes batting slowly.

“Hm,” he grumbles, body beginning to press against yours. His head cocks. “You don’t wanna be treated like a lady?”

“Nope.” You smirk, hand falling down to cup the bulge quickly forming below his belt.

“Want to be treated like a fuckin’ whore, do ya?”

Chest heaving, you nod, massaging him.

“So dirty, darlin’, feelin’ your date up on the porch,” he tells you, dipping his jaw to run his lips along your neck. “What ‘m I gonna do with you?”

You shrug again, and your fingers find the door handle at your hip. You push, and the wood behind you falls inward.

As you plunge into the dark house, Joel’s rough hands clamp down on your waist, taking you in his tight grip and throwing you against the wall. His lips find your neck, teeth scraping the sensitive skin, tongue caressing tenderly as he sucks a bruise into you. Heat spreads across your core. You clench your thighs around the feeling.

“Joel,” you whine, hands surfing through his hair. “Fuck, take me upstairs.”

He hums. He’s going to. He’s just not doing it quick enough.

You lift your leg to his hip, and his left hand scoops under your ass. He pulls your center flat against the swelling in his jeans, ruts slowly against your body. You hear a deep groan from his throat.

“Upstairs,” you say again, growing impatient, and he growls, taking you with both hands and lifting you two steps at a time towards his bedroom.

He kicks the door open, loosening his grip on you as he walks over to the bed. Light streams across the room in splinters, peering through the shades from the streetlights outside. Your legs drop and you dance along on your toes, turning him midway until his calves hit the bottom of his mattress.

Your lips part for mere seconds, allowing one reflected expression between you, before you’re pushing him by the chest onto the bed. His body springs when he hits the sheets, staring back up at yours between his legs. His breath courses from his mouth, thick with want and need.

You lay him flat on the mattress, knees either side of his waist, hands curved over his shoulders. His own find your waist, holding on tight as you straddle him, playing with the tie of your shorts when you settle.

You dip your head and brush your lips against his. One long, sweet kiss, and his hands are at the hem of your hoodie, pulling it free, lifting it over your head. You groan as it separates your bodies, let your tongue find his again as quickly as it was pulled apart from it.

“Let me see,” he whispers against your lips, hands slipping beneath the fabric of your shorts to rub circles into your hipbones.

You smile as you straighten, fingers dancing along the hem of your tee.

“Let me – see,” Joel grunts, when your core grinds into his.

You peel the tight fabric from your stomach, higher, higher, until it lifts your breasts, catching on the curve of them, and as you whip it over your head, they bounce back down. Joel groans from below, staring at the perfect peaked shape. He lifts one hand to cup your tit, runs his thumb over the quickly-hardening nipple.

“So fuckin’ pretty, baby.”

“I know,” you tell him, watching as his thumbpad circles the delicate skin. Your back arches into his touch.

And then his hands sink into the mattress either side of his body, pushing himself closer to you. He wraps a strong arm around your back and pulls your chest to his mouth, lips pressing wet kisses to the valley between your breasts. His teeth graze across the round shape up towards your nipple again.

His tongue slips over the hard bud, swirling and soaking all over it. Your head falls back, fingers grip onto his hair. Your mouth falls open, but no sound comes. Joel sucks harder.

“S– fuck,” you whisper, nearly voiceless. His tongue is flicking now, lips pulling more of your body into his mouth. “Fuckfuckfuck, I need you, I need you,” you whimper.

He releases your sweet skin, lips shining with saliva. “Tell me where.”

You writhe on top of him, hands pushing your shorts down over your hips. “You know where.”

Joel holds your body steady. “Tell me.”

You whine, trying to rock against him. He doesn’t let up. “Joel, fuck. Betw– between my – fuck.”

“Between your legs?” he taunts, pushing you harder against the hard folds of denim below his belt. “That where you need me? Between those pretty legs, babygirl?”

Your fists ball around the fabric of his shirt, clinging on to him. “Ye-ah,” you whimper, and his weight falls from your grasp.

You feel your shorts tug over the crests of bone by your hips. “Step out of ‘em, baby,” he instructs, and your knee lifts.

He pulls the cotton down one leg at a time, telling you to shift your weight as he curls a finger around the lace of your panties and tugs them down after. Before you can think about it, you’re naked, soaked cunt making a mess over the crotch of his jeans.

He looks up at you expectantly.

“What–?”

He flicks his fingers in a beckoning motion, a Come here, either side of your thighs. You hesitate.

“Darlin’. Up.”

“Joel.”

“Up.”

You take his open hands and shuffle up the mattress, knees pushing into the soft sheets either side of his head. You glance down at him.

“I don’t know –”

“’m not gonna tell you again.”

And he doesn’t have to. You steady yourself, locking your fingers through his behind your ass, and slowly lower yourself down to him. His jaw lifts to meet you, and you think about pausing again, telling him he doesn’t have to do this, asking instead to do something else, something he’ll enjoy as much, something you can both –

But then his lips open around the sweetest part of your body, and your lungs freeze. His tongue slips between, daring where you need him most, and your body sighs in equal parts relief and pleasure.

You’re so fucking wet. You can feel it, leaking onto his lips, spreading around your own as he kisses you, licks you, takes in every drop of you. Your back curls, lips fall open to the ceiling, breath comes in short wisps.

It’s been almost two weeks since the two of you felt like this. Hot, wet, needy. Two weeks of waiting for the other to come back, two weeks of reaching for the phone and deciding against it once the number’s dialed, two weeks of nothing.

And now – everything. Everywhere. Every part of your body ignited for him. You feel him fucking everywhere.

You lean all of your weight onto the palm of your hands, pushing all of it into Joel’s. He’s steady, strong, letting you rock and swirl your hips as he laps at your core.

“Right there,” you whisper, head rolling back. “Keep – keep – oh, fuck, Joel. What the f–?”

He slowly lowers his hands, letting you untangle your fingers and place them on the bed. His own come to hook around your thighs, clamping you as close against him as you can possibly be.

Two weeks of nothing. And now, five minutes of everything. The shards of light from outside blur across your vision; heat starts to prickle up your spine, tickling the back of your neck. You’re smiling, filthy and desperate.

“I’m gonna –” you breathe, and Joel hums. “’m gonna c– come.”

You can hear his response, though he doesn’t say a word. Then, come.

Your hips motion forward. Tighten. Clamp. Inhale. Joel’s tongue slips between your folds, warm on the inside of your cunt. And you rock back. Unwind. Unfurl. Exhale. His bottom lip puckers against your clit.

“J-oel. Joel, I’m – you’re – fuck.”

He moans against your sex. His hips shift behind you. Buck upwards, carefully.

Tighten. Clamp. Inhale. Tighten – inhale. Unwind. Unf-url. Ex-hale. Tighten. Inh– clamp. Fuck. I’m there. Unwind. Warm. Wet. Tongue. Exhale. Tongue. Tighten. Clamp. Inhale. Joel –

Your fingers curl around his bedsheets, nails dig into the cotton. Your orgasm sends a flood of hot pleasure across your cunt, rains down over Joel’s lips, and sets fireworks off through your body which explode into the dark room in the form of a throaty moan.

You’re not sure when you come to. You’re not sure your arms can bear the weight of your body. But when your eyes blink open, he’s kissing the inside of your thighs.

His mouth is glistening. Moustache and beard covered in you. Soft lips pearlescent with your spend. Your body feels heavy, unbearable. You lift your leg and tumble onto the mattress by his side, pussy throbbing when you land.

“I love you,” you whisper, and not for any particular reason. Not because of what he just did. Not because you’re naked in his bed.

But maybe because it feels like this is what you were made to do. To love and to be loved – by him. It feels like this entire thing has been, from its genesis, an exchange. An understanding. Immediate and certain. Here are all the parts of me. You know what to do.

As if there needed no further explanation. No instruction, no tutorial. You just knew.

He pushes himself up, leans over your frame. His jaw lowers, and he licks into your mouth tenderly.

“Gotta be inside you, baby,” he says, and at the same time, your fingers find the buttons of his shirt. “Gotta feel you again.”

You nod against him. Fuck me fuck me fuck me.

Joel’s hands are on his belt, pulling it through the loops, dropping it to the floor. Your help him tug his jeans off when he undoes the button. The material of his underwear rubs against your sex; your creamy arousal smears all over the black fabric. You can feel the weight of his stiff cock beneath. It dizzies your head.

He lets your fingers sneak below the elastic, lowering it until he springs free, slapping against the bottom of his tummy. You could fucking drool at the sight of him – the pink tip, beaded with precum; the thick vein on the underside of the shaft; his balls below it, heavy and waiting. Your hands wrap around him and pump slowly as he drags his boxers down, kicking them off at the foot of the bed.

He groans, hips thrusting gently into your palms as you squeeze him. Your fingers slip between your folds, collecting your own slick, coating him in it as you fist him.

“So good, babygirl,” Joel breathes, leaning down to kiss you. “You gonna take it all?”

“Mhm,” you reply, tongue slipping against his.

“Yeah,” he says, “my girl can take it.”

You let his hand shadow over yours, the two of you guiding his cock towards your entrance together. It glides between your dripping folds, the head sifting effortlessly from your clit to your tight hole and back again. Joel laughs, teeth clashing with yours, as he dips in and out, teasing you.

Your ass lifts from the mattress, any movement to draw him nearer. “Stop,” you gasp.

Joel pauses. “Stop?”

“No,” you bleat, “don’t stop. Just – fucking do it.”

“Do what, darlin’?”

“Fuck me.”

And he sinks in.

You’d be lying if you said all you’d done for the last two weeks was cry, mope, and stare at the ceiling. That’d be discrediting everything that this little affair was built on. It’s impossible to forget how the thing fucking started – your hands between your legs, Joel watching from the doorway.

In the moments you didn’t feel the mind-numbing tsunami of heartache overcome you – you felt something else. Memories of his hands on you, the trail of his tongue between your legs, the swell of his cock deep inside you. You tried to replicate it a handful of times with your hands. But nothing – not your fingers, not two, three, or four – nothing stands a chance against him.

He pushes in slow at first, drawing out when he’s halfway, and then in again as he covers himself in the wet his tongue left behind. When he’s soaked, glistening and gleaming, he thrusts. Hard. His tip catches on your cervix, and your back arches in a mix of pain and delight.

Something throbs deep inside as he bottoms out. You feel your opening stretch around his base. You feel your legs widen as if by instinct, accommodating the size of him, the width of him, the pace of him.

You throw an arm over his shoulder, elbow hanging on the nape of his neck. His sweaty forehead sticks to yours, and your hand cups his cheek.

“Harder,” you tell him, and he listens.

“Fuck, baby,” he pants, “fuck, you’re so tight. Oh, my – I ain’t gonna last.”

“Don’t – want you – to,” you cry, body jumping as he fucks you quicker, quicker, harder, deeper. “Want to – come – together.”

Your head tips back against the bed, and Joel’s lips attach to your neck. He’s moaning into your skin, teeth biting down, breath hot and quick. He’s not gonna last he’s not gonna last he’s not –

“F-u-ck, Joel,” you sob, your walls starting to close in around him, “feels so – f-fucking good, oh!”

“I know, darlin’, I know. C’mere.”

He takes your cheek and pulls your face back to his, lines his lips with yours and kisses you. It’s messy, haggard, fucking all over the place as your bodies bounce together, but he tastes like sweat, and sex, and you, and him.

“Missed this so fuckin’ much,” he grunts, hips pounding. “Missed bein’ inside you. You know how bad I needed you?”

“Tell me,” you slur, echoing his own words back to him.

He smirks. “Best fucking pussy I ever had, sweetheart. Best – I ever – had.”

“Don’t pull out,” you hum against his lips, and his jaw pulls back a fraction. “Don’t.”

“Baby,” he says, strained, and your head tilts.

“Need it,” you tell him. “Please. Need you.”

He nods, leaning back into you, letting you connect your mouths again. His lips shudder when you pull away, the thought translated clear as day from your mouth to his. And he knows, and he drives in harder, and he fucks the image from your mind. Who the fuck is Lois, when you’re under him and he’s this deep between your legs?

You look up into his eyes, and you find your answer. She’s nobody. There’s only you.

Your body feels liquid, your mind like fog. You pull him into your body, deeper and deeper, until you’re sure you’re one, and there is no place where he ends and you begin, and you’re sure this is what it feels like, this is what those words feel like, not just the sound of them, not just the way his lips move around them, but the shape of them on and in and around your body. Something deafening, something blinding, something screaming from the pits of your lungs as you come all around him, and you feel him come all around you.

His warmth spurts deep inside you, filling you up, dripping down your walls as he collapses into your shoulder, a loud moan drilling into your collarbone. He slows, thrusts in and out gently, pushing his spend deeper and mixing it with yours.

It's everywhere. The feeling. The pulsing, the humming, the singing. He’s everywhere. Him. In your brain and in your lungs and in your body and in your cunt. And you want to keep him there, hold him there, keep your bodies together for five more minutes, just five more minutes.

But then he’s panting into your skin, pressing kisses into that little dip between your collarbone and your chest, and he slowly slips out, come dripping from where he leaves.

He presses his palm deep into the sheets by your head, lifts off of you – but your arm is still around his neck, and you lean with him. Tilted on his mattress, holding onto him, letting him kiss your head; letting his hand move across the surface of your stomach, mapping the gentle slope over your belly button and scaling the tiny mountains of your hipbones. Kneading softly into the skin over which his seed sits, warm and snug, deep inside you. It’s new. You think you love it.

And he’s whispering, “Good girl, did so good for me,” and he nuzzles his nose into your hair, and he tilts your chin back until he can see your face, see your expression, and he smiles with relief when he clocks your doe eyes, your blissful smile, the sweet tinge of red on your cheeks.

“I love you,” he tells you, and you’re staring at his lips.

“Again.”

“I love you.”

You look up to his eyes. “Again.”

“I love you.”

You smile. It breaks into a laugh. “Again,” you whisper, and he kisses you.

Slowly, only once you pull away from him and your breath steadies, Joel takes your body and carefully shifts. He turns onto his back, settles you on his chest, your hips between his thighs. He runs a gentle hand over your hair and you lie against his sweat-shining chest, his heartbeat whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

Love and sex, as far as you knew, were always two different things. Separate. One, you weren’t even sure existed. The other, nothing more than a need to be satisfied. Something deep within you, something no one had ever managed to touch. And then Joel. And his lips, and his tongue, and his hands and his cock.

And suddenly the two – love and sex – begin to blur, their edges touch frantically. They bleed into one another, until there are no longer two distinct forms; instead, one big shape which has the curve of your hips and the cut of his jaw.

You love him. And he loves you. You’ve heard it translated between your minds longer than you care to admit, and now – you’ve felt it. Transferred between your bodies. You love him. Jesus, you love him.

It’s as terrifying as it is thrilling. Enamoring, and yet dangerous.

“So,” you sigh, “what’s next?”

He glances down, lifts his eyebrows and gives his head a shake. His hand lifts off of your shoulder with a shrug.

“Like, your next move. What happened with the other eight?”

“The other eight?”

“Mhm. Me, Sarah’s mom, makes two. There are eight others, right? What’d you do afterward?”

“Kicked ‘em out.”

You lift a heavy hand and slap his chest. He shudders with laughter.

“I dunno, baby. Wasn’t all like this.”

Your brows knit. “Like what?”

He takes a deep breath. Your head rises as his lungs fill. “Lyin’ in bed afterward. Talkin’.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“What?” he asks, smirking.

“Who even were they? I wanna know.”

“Why?”

“Just do. I wanna hear about ‘em. When was the last one, before me?”

Joel’s eyes drift off to the ceiling above you, thinking. “May.”

“M–?” You jump up, pushing yourself off of his body. “May?” you repeat, eyes wide. “That’s…so recent.”

“Recent?” He chokes back a laugh. “When’s your last?”

You furrow your brows, dropping his gaze. “We’re not talking about me,” you mumble, thumbs twiddling.

Your last had been two nights before you flew home. You’d gone out with your roommates and dragged home Matteo, an exchange student who you’d worked with on a group project for your screenwriting class. He was three inches shorter than you. He bent you over your kitchen counter and fucked you until he came. Then he made himself some cereal, ate half of it, and left.

Joel doesn’t really need to hear about him, you think.

“Do I know any of them?” you ask in attempt to change the subject.

Joel pulls a face. His lips tighten, teeth clench. His eyes narrow to a thin line, looking at you through his eyelashes. He nods tentatively.

“Shut the fuck up. Who is it? Who?”

“I dunno if you know her, but she knows you.”

“What’s her name?”

“Your dad gave us a ride home from the bar. She ‘n him got to talkin’, and he said he had a daughter –”

Your fist lightly drops onto his chest. “Joel, if you don’t fucking tell me who it is, I –”

“She’s an elementary teacher. Long, dark hair. Good few years older ‘n you. Think she said her little sister went to your school.”

“Who – was – it?”

He makes the face again. This time his eyes close over, waiting for the penny to drop. His head shakes lightly.

“You –? No, Joel. Come on. Please don’t…Are you fucking serious? You don’t remember her name?”

“It was a long night, alright?”

“How did you forget her damn name?”

He shrugs. “I don’t fuckin’ know. I was drunk, baby.”

“Elementary teacher? I don’t know anybody whose sister teaches elementary.”

“Guess we’ll never know.” Joel shrugs, and you shake your head at him.

You’re picturing Joel stumbling out of Frank’s, arm in arm with a brunette, heavy feet dragging along the sidewalk while your dad chitters in his ear about the Rangers, or about some rude bartender, or about…you. The brunette turns, and her face is yours. Your features, your smile. Your hand linked through Joel’s. C’mon, baby. ‘s go home.

You chase the image away. It slips from your mind like dust cleared from a countertop. Would never. Could never. Should never.

You replace it with something lighter. Something to make you forget about the dust.

“Does…Does my dad ever go home with anyone?”

“What?”

You don’t answer. He heard you.

“That’s…No. I ain’t answerin’ that.”

“Oh, come on. If you’re takin’ women home left, right, and center, he’s gotta be seein’ that. Does he?”

“I was not takin’ home women left, right, and – No, darlin’, no. It’s inappropriate.”

“Yeah, you’re right. And I’m known for my appropriate behavior, y’know,” you gesture between your naked bodies, “I’m known for the good life choices I make.”

“This,” Joel hooks his hands under your arms and drags you up until your chin meets his, “is a good life choice.”

“Yeah?” you ask through a giggle, your nose bumping his.

Joel smiles softly, runs a hand over the back of your head. Looks between your eyes, a twinkle in his. Yes.

Your lips crash together like waves on the rocks. You’re the sea; he’s the stone. Two different worlds, suddenly married in some unforeseen twist of nature. And when you pour over him, your body lighting him in a twinkling glow of ocean, it’s as though you never existed apart from one another. It’s as natural as the waves on the shore.

“Alright, darlin’,” Joel mumbles against your skin. “Speakin’ of inappropriate. I gotta get you home.”

“Why can’t I just stay the night?” you complain. “Like last time. Tell ‘im we’re watchin’ a movie again…”

Joel’s head rests on your arm. “He’s worried sick about you. Ain’t no way he’ll let you spend the night here. You know that. Plus, Sarah’ll be long done with Rita’s cross stitch by now.”

He sits up and you roll into his lap, head resting on the soft skin of his belly. He looks down at you, head tilted, eyes glowing hazel.

You stare right back. The dimples in his cheeks dig deeper when you whisper, “Kickin’ me out right after we finally make up. I see how it is, Miller.”

Joel’s shoulders hunch. “Happens to all of ‘em. Warned ya.”

He shifts off the bed and begins gathering his clothes. You sit up and watch as he pulls his boxers snug over his hips, swipes his tee from the carpet at his feet. As he drapes it over his scruffy chest, your half-naked form meets his at the foot of the bed.

His fingers knot in your hair. You lean into his arms, legs giving as he kisses you gently, breathing you in, stealing any more words of protest from your tongue.

“I love you,” he whispers when he pulls away, tip of his nose brushing off yours. “You know that?”

“Somebody told me somethin’ to do with that, yeah.”

He smiles. “Get dressed.”

You pull the rest of your clothes back on in silence, tossing socks and jeans across the room to one another, giggling like a pair of kids. After all you just did, the palpable pleasure you just sent hammering through one another – this is the part you wish you could bottle. The laughter, the love. The attempts to keep holding onto him, even as he tries to pull his arm through the sleeve of his shirt, even as he links his belt back through his jeans, as he bends to tie his boots.

The fun of it. The hope of it.

The foolish, foolish hope.

“Hoodie.” Joel flings it up towards you, crouched as he tightens his laces.

You pull it on over your bra. Flatten your flyaway hairs, stand straight before him.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

“You got your phone?”

Your hands instinctively pat your body down. “Oh, nah,” you realize, “musta left it at home.”

Joel nods and heads into the hallway, you at his heel. At the bottom of the stairs, you glance around his house, like it’s the first and last time you’ll see it wrapped into one. It looks different; two weeks of absence and you notice things you hadn’t before.

His coat hanging by the door, probably untouched since early spring. The bowl on the side table where his and Sarah’s keys live. The guitar in the corner of the room, the books in the shelves above it. All him. Every little piece of it. He’s reflected in every object in the room. He’s reflected in you.

You drive back to your dad’s place in silence. Comfortable, sweet silence. Your fingers ghost across his palm the entire time, watching out the window as the dark neighborhood soars by in a blur of porch lights and mailboxes. All too quickly, you’re back in front of your own house.

“What do we do now?” you ask, and through the darkness you see Joel’s smile fall.

After a moment’s silence, heavy and contemplative, he looks back up. Softens when his eyes land on you.

“We’ll be alright,” he tells you, and you believe him.

You lean forward and press a quick but tender kiss to his lips, and your fingers latch around the door handle. Joel’s hand finds the back of your head, keeping your mouth on his.

“Gotta – let me – go,” you mumble between kisses, and he hums a laugh in response. “Joel.”

“I know,” he whispers, finally pulling back. “I know.”

You smile, head tilting into his palm. “I’ll text you.”

He nods once. “See you, babygirl.”

You slip out of the truck and wander past to your front door, twirling as you click the handle. Joel laughs, and the truck reverses back onto the street. You wait for it to disappear before closing the door, and step into the unlit hallway.

The TV lights the living room at the opposite end. You stop by the kitchen, feeling the grumpy rumble of your stomach. Your dad’s armchair is sat facing the screen. You lean over to double check he’s not sat in it, fast asleep while Rangers highlights play on loop before his eyelids.

When you swivel the plaid pattern towards your knees, its only occupant is the remote. You flick the TV off and pad back over to the kitchen, filling a bowl with some chips. You’re hunched over at the refrigerator when his footsteps clunk slowly down the stairs, and he materializes like a specter around the doorway.

“Hey.”

You straighten up, lit in a nervous blue hue from the fridge. “Hey, yourself.”

“Joel gone?”

“’bout ten minutes ago. Where’ve you been? You left the TV on.”

“Just…y’know. You get those brochures?”

Fuck. You were at Joel’s under the premise of picking up fucking UCLA pamphlets – and you’ve come home empty-handed. The lie doesn’t form on your tongue as quickly as Joel’s did earlier. Something else on your mind.

“…sure. Some…interesting stuff.”

Your dad nods. “Good. Good, I’m glad. We can take a look in the mornin’.”

Your eyebrows flinch. “Yeah. That’d be – yeah. I’m…gonna head to bed, alright?”

“Sure,” he says, nodding.

With a can of soda under your arm and your bowl of chips in the other, you nod and cautiously shuffle towards him. His lips are a thin line. You duck by him and trot upstairs, and make it as far as the landing before he’s calling out again.

“Oh, hey.” He holds a hand out, and disappears in a jog towards the living room. You drop back down a couple steps, watching him swipe something from the dining table and pace back over. “You left your phone.”

He’s presenting it like a jeweler shows a Rolex – or maybe more like an investigator handles evidence. Holding it out in almost trembling fingers, afraid to mark it with his fingerprints. Your eyes flit from the phone to his, unsure which of the two frightens you more.

That’s not where I fucking left it.

You lean over and take it from his palm. “Thanks…”

“I think maybe you got a text, just then. It was lit up. Maybe I’m seein’ things.”

You force the corners of your mouth upward. Your cheeks inflate with nerves and shame. “Thanks,” you repeat, and then: “Everything okay, Dad?”

“Everything’s fine, kiddo. Sleep well.” He makes back for the living room.

As you turn, you unlock your screen.

Joel: Left your shirt here, and your bikini from last week. This mean I get to be the one wearing your clothes now?

Panic spills over your head, a wave of freezing cold washing over you when you read his words. Did Dad read them, too?

You continue walking, feeling the weight of your dad’s strange voice on your back as your feet drag you one by one up the stairs. When you make it back to the landing, your cool flees you, and you take the rest of them two at a time until you’re leaning against your bedroom door, panting.

You: Problem. I think my dad saw that text

Joel: How so?

You: When I got home my phone was next to his chair, and he’s being so weird

You: Joel I think he knows something

Joel: I’m sure he doesn’t. He wouldn’t read your phone baby.

He’s trying to reassure you, telling you he wouldn’t even know what it means, maybe he’ll think you spilled something on it, but no matter how many ideas Joel comes up with, none of them slow your heart rate.

You sit down on the edge of your bed, and the anxiety bubbling in your stomach forces you straight back up. Pacing doesn’t help, knowing your dad is directly below you probably hearing the floorboards creak with every step you take.

Your head dizzies with doubts, fears, worries, all frantically throwing themselves against the walls of your skull. You lean your forehead against the cold glass of your window, eyes screwing shut, stars in your vision. Nothing is calming you down.

Joel takes too long to reply back, whether he’s running out of explanations or just fucking forty-eight with an iPhone, but every time your phone buzzes with a new attempt at comfort from him, it only convinces you even more that – no, it wasn’t a stain, it wasn’t a joke, Joel has your top because you took it off for him an hour ago, and then let him fuck you in his bed.

And your dad fucking knows it.

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