#Sure hes there why not anyways 👍 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kenjakusbraincum · 6 months

Note

can you pls write something about reader being sick and like not the cough and cold kind of sick- like really really sick, and sukuna realising how much he doesn't want to lose her to this sickness and how if she dies, he'll be alone again..🥺

You have NO idea how much I love this idea!!! I did go a bit overboard with it cause I love suffering though 👍 Still, this was SO much fun to write and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Vows

Sukuna x Reader

Word count: 4.5k

Tags/warnings: gn! reader, true form! sukuna, master/pet dynamic, fluff but most importantly ANGST, mentions of weight loss, mentions of violence, implied nsfw, reader dies in the end :( (sorry)

It's not the first time Sukuna has been made aware of your mortality. He recalls many instances when he's been reminded that you are human. Finite. The first time he wrapped his hand around your throat and squeezed with calculation while you were laying under him, and you looked up at him in fear for your life. Your little hand couldn't even wrap around his wrist, much less provide resistance. Or when he'd pull your hair a little too roughly, and hear a crack in your delicate spine. When you'd get sick, and humbly refuse his healing. So little as a tummy ache had you writhing on your bed.

You are so weak, so small, clinging to life like there was anything for you in it, beyond Sukuna. By all means he hates all of these things. So what witchery is this, and why does he care about you so much? Why does he keep you for years, and why does your company bring him comfort he hasn't ever known in his lifetime?

Still, as much as he cares, he doesn't notice when it starts. He's trained you to tolerate pain, after all. It's no wonder you hesitate to tell him. Little things like tummyaches and colds occur to you all the time anyways, and you never complain. Sure, you've grown closer to Sukuna, but he was still your master, and the rules he instilled in you from the start were always fresh in your mind, not to be crossed. Bothering him with everything that feels off always seemed inappropriate.

And Sukuna is just like that. If you're not screaming or crying, he won't know you're in pain. But he notices that you're acting off. And how he reacts really doesn't help your case, or encourage you to speak up about your condition. ''I don't have all day. What is wrong with you?'', he sneers when he catches you pacing too far behind him.

So you just sleep longer and preserve energy for when you are with him. You don't skip around as much anymore, or spend time doing your hobbies. Food doesn't taste so great anymore. You have a cough that gives you sleepless nights because it just won't calm down. And the time you owe Sukuna starts to feel like an obligation. You start to dread it. Dread slipping up, dread annoying him or failing to satisfy him. Dread being disposable.

When things start getting worse, it's hard to hide it even from him. He was taking you from behind one night, and you were grateful he couldn't see the look on your face. You thought you could do it. Sukuna was always demanding, but he would never force you to do anything. If only you told him before you felt yourself struggling for air, and your chest closing in on itself in tightness. You reached one hand back, frantically grabbing his wrist.

''Feathers, feathers!'', words came out as gasps, and you slumped forward when he let you go. You were panicked and crying by then, this kind of discomfort being foreign even to you, even after weeks of pain behind you. He hovered next to you with a puzzled look on his face. He wasn't even being that rough.

''What's wrong? Tell me.'', he said, and reached his hand to feel the warmth of your tears streaming down your face. He swiped your cheek gently. He didn't seem mad at all. Why didn't you say anything from the start?

''I just feel so sick.'', you muster up in between sobs, and shut your eyes. You were too embarrassed to even look at him.

''I see.''. His hand leaves your face, and he traces it from your neck down your spine. The pain subsided slowly, allowing you to relax and find comfort in his arms.

But the effects of his healing were short lived. Just a week later the feeling of fatigue creeps back into your life. Manageable, but lingering. And the cough persists. And it gets on Sukuna's nerves too. He's been quite patient with you, but his patience was reaching it's limit.

You're sitting by his throne as you often do, and as hard as you try to hold the cough in, you just can't help it. His hand finds the back of your neck and squeezes, turning you to him. And he looks at you with all four, terrifying eyes. ''Can you shut up?''

''I'm sorry, I'm trying -'', you stutter, but just end up coughing more. He doesn't wait for you to stop.

''Get out of here.'', and pushes you away. You stumble down the pile of bones and fall, landing on your hands and knees. You don't remember him being this cruel to you in a long time. You look back at him with teary eyes, and he looks back like the merciless monster he is. The villagers awaiting him moved to make space for your fall, taking note of the tense situation.

That day, Sukuna sends word that he doesn't want to see you until you get better. You're forbidden from going outside again, in fear that that is making your 'cold' worse. It's a lonely week in your room, until Sukuna starts to crave you again. It didn't take him a while, counting the couple days he spent convincing himself he doesn't miss you. He does. So when he sends word for you again, and the servants come back to him saying you're still not feeling well... he's worried. So worried he comes to see it for himself.

Sukuna rarely comes to your room. It's the only space you have for yourself, and he doesn't want to take that away from you. Your room is modest. You have a bed, a carpet, and a couple shelves to house the books he's gifted you. There's a desk where you can eat and read, and a doorway to the garden. There's an empty glass of water and a napkin next to your bed. You're still sleeping, but the door shutting behind him wakes you up, so he doesn't get to enjoy observing you in your natural habitat for long.

It's not the first time doors opening and closing woke you up. But you know this time is different. The servants are always quickly shuffling around the room, cleaning up and moving around. Uraume clanks with plates. There is no noise now, other than your strained breathing and a cough brewing in the back of your throat. Besides, the aura that Sukuna brings with him everywhere he goes is recognizable. Especially to you. Heavy.

You turn around, and meet the gaze of his four eyes. ''Master...'', you struggle to sit up, and even a little action like that has spots forming in your vision. Then a coughing fit hits you. You pick up the napkin and put it to your mouth.

Sukuna sees your whole body strain with the effort of coughing. And when you call him master, even your voice sounds different. He knows your morning voice. He missed hearing it, but this... this is not it. You sit with your head hung low, staring at the napkin between your hands. There's a fresh splatter of blood on it. But Sukuna scares you more than the progression of your illness.

''Are you mad at me?'', you ask timidly, meeting his gaze.

''I'm concerned.", he says and sits next to you. You curl up to make space for him. "Two weeks is a long time for a frail human like you to be sick.", he looks at you, scanning your form up and down.

"I rested and drank every tea Uraume told me to!", your defense mechanism kicks in, and you start babbling.

Sukuna dismisses you with a hand and a pained facial expression. "I know.", he says. His brows are furrowed now, and he's looking at the ground, lost in thought.

You feel guilty for annoying him again. You feel guilty for the whole thing, getting sick, draining the energy it takes him to heal you, robbing him of the time with you that he deserves. Owns. He is very generous with the way he treats you, having all that in mind.

You tug on his sleeve. "I'm sorry, Master... You deserve better.", and you're sobbing again. Sukuna gives you a pathetic look, but smiles as he pulls you into his embrace.

"Silly pet. I can survive a couple weeks without your assistance.", he says, rubbing your shoulder.

You run your fingers against the back of his hand mindlessly, not knowing how to respond. Caressing his knuckles, bones, veins... feeling his nails and their sharp tips against your sensitive skin. When you bring his palm up to your lips, your kiss stains it red with blood.

You still sleep with Sukuna sometimes. Less frequently, only on days when you feel well enough, and those are rare. You've lost weight by now, sickness making itself visible on your body. You're sitting on his lap and clinging to your robes, scared that he won't like you as much, that you won't live up to his standards. But Sukuna's demeanor about your illness has changed, as he seemed to sense something unusual about it. He flips you over so gently, like you're made of glass, and peppers kisses from your neck downwards, slowly undressing you as much as you allow him. When he takes you, he's so careful. Constantly checking you're comfortable and enjoying yourself. You feel so loved and relaxed, and pleasure comes so easy when you're in this state. It's not the first time Sukuna is this caring with you in bed, but this time is different. This time you can't help but feel like he's saying goodbye.

He holds you afterwards, tracing his fingers over the ridges of your spine and your shoulders. You were always little in his grasp, but now that he feels your protruding bones under his fingertips, you seem all the more vulnerable.

"Will you kill me?", you ask, breaking the silence.

Sukuna frowns. "Nonsense. Why would I do that?"

There's a gulp in your throat. "It won't be long before I can't even do this. I won't be of any use to you then...", you say.

"Stop.", he says sternly. "There's a lot more to you than what you provide me with in bed."

You smile to yourself, but there's still a hole in your chest. Your statement is still true, and you aren't comforted. But this is Sukuna, and you know that he's offered you quite a lot even with that little bit of reassurance. To your surprise, he speaks again.

"Don't upset yourself. It's been a long time since killing you crossed my mind.", he says. "Save the energy for something else."

You nod and thank him. Just moments later, you're asleep. Quicker than ever before, he notes. You usually love it when he lets you cuddle and talk to him. You would force your eyes open when you were sleepy, just to enjoy it longer.

He feels guilty. He's your master, he's responsible for your well being. Yet nothing he does seems to help you long term. Healing you is temporary and he knows that without accessing the source, it will never work. If he could, he would find what was making you sick and rip it out of you with his bare hands, crush it with the force of his palm. He would have to look deeper, open you, and for once, he thinks he can't open a human being. He thinks of you trashing, screaming, and worst of all, looking into his eyes. Just the thought of you like that makes his chest feel like a gaping cavity. Worst of all, he's sure you would let him. He's sure you would forgive him for spilling your blood, and find comfort in his arms again. If you survived, that is. What has he done to you? And to himself?

Now, your head rests on his chest, and you're snoring lightly. For once, a repetitive noise like that doesn't annoy him. For once, he wishes he could listen to it every night. One day, that noise will be the only thing audibly confirming you're still alive.

Months pass and you're only getting worse. You barely leave your room now, too weak to even do so. You eat little, and it's showing in your sunken cheeks and eyes. You feel yourself withering away, loosing color, drying like a dying flower. Sukuna is in grief. He struggles to look at you, and visiting you falls heavy on him every time. He always finds himself thinking afterwards. Regretting that he let himself get this attached, wishing that he could simply forget you. But it doesn't work that way.

He goes to see you, after avoiding you for a week. He's Sukuna, he doesn't have any shame. You're sleeping, like you usually are when he comes to visit you. Your snoring is laboured, and it sounds painful. This time, the doors and the silence don't wake you up. He watches you, curled up under a stack of blankets, rising and falling with your struggles to breathe. How foolish he was, to think forgetting you would be as easy as avoiding you for days. How evil he was, trying to forget you while you are still alive under his wing, still his responsibility. Still his.

He sits next to you and leans over you, fingertips ghosting over your face. The snoring stops and you flutter your eyes open, turning in bed and feeling his body next to yours. You smirk at him, eyes adjusting to the light, and smile when you recognize him. ''Master.'', your arms wrap around his neck as you welcome him, your voice dry, but lively as you beckon him closer. ''I missed you.''.

He comes down to plant a kiss to your forehead. ''I missed you too, darling.''. Oh, the things that escape his mouth when he's alone with you. He cups your face, enjoying how much healthier you look with a smile on your face. ''Feeling any better?'', he rubs your cheek, lingering closely above your face.

You nod, but both of you know you only feel better because you saw him. Still, the little surge of happiness that brings you gives you more energy than you've had the whole week. You wiggle to the edge of the bed, making space and inviting him to join you. Sukuna lies down, hooking one arm underneath your neck and pulling you flush against him.

You wrap your arm around him and lean your head against his shoulder. He's still as big as you remember him, unfaltering in the face of your illness. It's comforting. ''You didn't visit in a while. Were you busy?'', you ask, stroking his back. ''How were your days?''

''Monotone.'', he says. ''The villagers bring remedies for you every day, and wish for you to get well.'' It's no wonder. So many times, Sukuna found himself hesitating to kill just because you were sitting on his knee, dressed in something too pretty to be splattered with blood. In the local villages, word spread that you have ''domesticated'' Sukuna. As if such a thing was possible. Or was it?

''Oh?'', you smile. ''I didn't think they would notice my absence.''. You always were supposed to be Sukuna's accessory and nothing more. Remedies and good wishes make it sound like you're more important than just a pet. So it really is that obvious...

''They did.'', he says, and lowers his head, brushing his nose against your face. ''Some took that as an opportunity to gift me new pets.''

You blink at him, a bit taken aback by his honesty. You keep smiling anyways. ''Did you take any?'', you ask, and he sees nothing but genuine curiosity in your eyes. The truth is, you've had a lot of time to think about your place in Sukuna's mansion. You knew, especially in sickness, that you were never entitled to exclusivity with him. You knew that at some point you would have to be replaced, just by the virtue of being a mortal. A human, who would age and become ugly, wrinkled and useless. You were just unlucky enough to meet this fate sooner than you should've.

Sukuna sighs, the weight of the conversation shifting to him. ''Not to bed, no.'', he says.

You're quiet while you think of what to say. You still have a habit of picking words when you're with Sukuna, but the times when he would punish you for improper formulation are far behind you. "Why not?", you settle. You hope the implication is there, that you wouldn't be so mad even if he did.

Why not? Because he thinks it might break him. Because the image of someone else in your place, under him, feels unnatural and wrong. He thinks the guilt might eat him alive. For once in centuries, someone else's needs come before Sukuna's. He is gone, so far gone. You've raised his standards, and he's not sure anyone he takes now will be able to live up to them. Besides, training a new pet to fit your mold would take years, and even then... He couldn't train someone to love him. Not like you do.

''I wouldn't want you to hold back because of me.'', you say, and he realizes he's been quiet for too long. Years ago, if you dared to imply that Sukuna would do such a thing as hold back because of you, that he cared, you would've been minced meat ready for dinner. Now, he looks down at you tenderly when you say it. Well, a tender look from Sukuna is a docile one. You've gotten used to the way that Sukuna communicates love. Subtly, innocuously.

''Worry about getting well, pet.'', he shuts down the conversation, and moves away from you, sitting back on the bed. ''Any wishes? Food? Activities?'', he asks, and feels your forehead with the back of his hand.

Food? No, but... ''I'd like you to stay, please.'', you say, and take his hand with the two of yours, feeling it up with your thumbs.

Sukuna resists the urge to roll his eyes, knowing the thought of annoying him would upset you greatly. ''That's a given. Anything else?''

You pretend to think, then just babble your favorite food. Sukuna takes your order to Uraume. But when he comes back, you're already asleep again. He waits by your side, but you don't wake, so eventually he leaves. By the evening, the plate of your favorite food remains untouched.

You can't leave the bed on your own anymore. Sukuna carries you outside when you're feeling good enough. You barely have the strength to latch onto him securely. Still, it's hard to slip out of the grasp of his four arms. He says you've gotten pale. You lay in his lap and bask in the sun, while he tells you about his day or reads a book out loud for you to enjoy. You wish you could talk to him more, but your voice leaves you as days of endless coughing wreck your throat. No herbs and teas ease your condition anymore. You wait for your final day.

And Sukuna doesn't know when he's given up on the idea that you might get better. But he starts spending whole days with you, leaving your side only to sleep in his bed. He tends to almost all your needs personally. You think that if you asked him to get on his knees for you, he would. He is not familiar with this ache that brews in his chest when he looks to his side and doesn't see you there. It feels violating. To be as powerful as he is, and yet completely helpless in the face of the sickness that drains you in front of his very eyes.

He plays with your thinning hair one morning, and you look at him from his lap, as adoringly as always. ''Isn't it funny?.'', you say, and he snaps out of his thoughts to look at you. ''I always imagined dying by your hand.'', you kiss his hand again, planting your dry, blue lips against his knuckles. ''Who would have thought?''.

You, you little human. You made him feel like a fool, like a coward. You made him feel powerless. Who could ever get away unscathed with making Sukuna feel like this? The thought of killing you now, even out of mercy, fills him with horror. He thinks he couldn't live carrying the burden of your death on his back. It's already hard for him as is.

When he's not with you, he withers away in his room, waiting. And when the servants finally come, and tell him you're at your last strengths, he feels as tense as he feels relieved. The servants shake in fear of his reaction, and he simply dismisses them. In a thousand years of his existence, he doesn't remember having to prepare to enter a room. His hand trembles as he brings it up to push the door open. He dreads what awaits him inside.

He expected blood, hysteria, chaos, yet there's none of it when he walks in. Just the pained noises of your breathing. A servant, your favorite, sits by your side and wipes sweat off your forehead. She talks to you in a comforting tone and pats your head gently. When he walks in the room, she lowers her head and moves to leave. It's only a second, but he sees the sad look on your face. ''Stay.'', he orders, and the servant bows and thanks him.

You move your attention to him, raising your hand to greet him weakly. He picks it up and bends down to kiss it. There's tears in your eyes as he settles into a seat next to you, and you open your mouth in an attempt to say something.

''Easy now.'', he shushes you, and helps you into his lap. You lean back, looking at him through a blur. His features appear even more doubled through the tears, and you still find his beauty mesmerizing. Your master. Your own little god and protector. Although he regrets it, you've never claimed the title of his spouse. Yet, he still stuck by your side, until parted by death. In sickness and in health.

He wipes your tears, and the mouth he conjures onto his hand kisses your forehead. One set of his hands caresses your face, the other massages the tension out of your bony shoulders. Sukuna knows how important it is for you to pass in peace. He doesn't want to curse you, or have despair turn you into a curse. "Relax now.", his voice is so soothing, as if lulling you to sleep. "It won't be long". You weep. What did an ordinary human like you do to deserve this honor? To be comforted on their death bed by a god. To be guided to death by him.

"Master.", you sob. "I'm so scared..."

Delicate touch against your skin. Sharp nails grazing your cheek ever so slightly, just barely enough to make their presence known. "Have no fear.", Sukuna looms over you like a snowdrop. "Where you go now, pain won't follow.". You speak to him a little longer. Tell him all the things you always wanted to tell him, but were scared of the consequences. Dangerous words, ones that were rarely associated with Sukuna. Love. And Sukuna is attentive, so human. Your blinking slows and you find comfort in his voice, as he returns every loving word back to you. Your pained breathing follows, and your eyelids are so heavy. But the sight of him is so hypnotizing, you wish you never had to look away. "You are so brave, my little dove. Go now, be free.". You were too good for this wretched palace anyways. The sight of him is etched in your memory as you close your eyes. "It was a pleasure to have you by my side.", you listen, feeling control over your body slip through your fingers. When you can't move, or feel his touch, you still hear his calm voice. "When you're ready, come back to me. I'll be waiting for your return.". Then everything is quiet, for you and for him. The servants cries are muffled by the sheets, where she has her head pressed by your side.

The hallways, silent except for the busy tapping of feet. Outside, the wind blows petals off of blooming flowers, leaving them bare and stranded. Autumn is here to carry you away.

Servants hold their breath when Sukuna walks by. One wrong look at him and the walls would be painted red. Just like before. Before you. And it's not long before Sukuna looks like a monster again - red eyes and a permanent frown etched on his face. Villagers bring bouquets, and lay them to the right of his throne, where you used to sit. He stares them all down, and only for a moment thinks that maybe, humans are not the scum he thought they were. But then he remembers, they only mourn you because you held him back from his destructive tendencies. Scum.

And he kills again. The first is a villager from afar, where news of your passing hasn't reached. Ripped to shreds for mentioning you. The women who screamed, their blood soaks the carpets and seeps through the wooden floor, dripping down to the cellars. He feels like himself again, unhinged, unbeatable.

Until the day is over, and he goes back to his empty room. His cold, empty bed, and the old habit of reaching for you in his sleep, only to grab nothing instead. And the crocheted figures of the two of you on his nightstand, watching him as he struggles to sleep alone. He can't bear it. So he leaves, and doesn't come back for days, weeks, months.

Smoke clouds the skies on the horizon once again, after years and years of peace and clarity. As far as the eye stretches, the world will know of Sukuna's wrath. But as thrilling as it feels to conquer again, when the village is burned and ash covers the grass on the ground, the thought of you still lingers. Your devastated eyes the first time he's killed before you. The first time he's felt guilty about his monstrous nature. When he comes back, no one's warm embrace awaits him. No one's there to brighten up his day. No amount of blood shed and villages burned replace the emptiness you left behind in his heart.

The grief settles, and sits heavy in Sukuna's chest, as he assumes position in his lonely throne again, and gazes at the row of people waiting to beg, talk, offer... bore him. Another eternity of boredom. An eternity of picking through thousands of humans, in vain hopes of finding you again. In vain hopes of recognizing you, even if it's lifetimes from now, when the last memory of your face has already faded from his mind. When generations change, and the thought of a monster like Sukuna being capable of tenderness vanishes. When the fire in his chest, ignited by love, is already a memory so distant, that recalling it feels surreal.

Maybe he will forget you by then. Maybe times will harden him again, and the idea of a pet becoming his lover will make him laugh. But for now, the thought of finding you in a crowd, taking you in his arms and never letting go, is his comfort and safe place. For now, he will wait for you. As long as it takes, like a stone, unyielding against the passing of time.

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk fluff #sukuna fluff #sukuna angst #sukuna #soft sukuna #i love bastardizing sukuna in my fics #also this is totally leading me into a part 2 w reincarnated reader #yes weve heard it a thousand times #idc it makes me happy

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rklve · 9 months

Text

RAINY DAYS | JEON JUNGKOOK - PART ONE

summary: your life choices left not only yours, but jungkook's heart broken in peaces. now you're back in town, and just like pluto, even if it's cold and dark, he tends to orbit around his sun forever.

➣ pairing: jk x f!reader

➣ genre/au: exes to lovers; angst; slow burn; fluff; smut (eventually).

➣ 3.4k words

warnings: e2l. oc broke koo's heart :( but she did not mean it. they both overthink too much. jk is such a pet dad (BAM IS HERE YAY). oc is a confused mess. mutual pining. cursing. a lot of angst (sorry!). jungkook is a simp, head over hells crazy about oc. fluff bc why not. tae is bitter asf but he's right on this one. jk is the best boy I WANT HIM!!!!!!!!!!

song inspo: rainy days — V

wish I knew how to find the way right back to you, on rainy days like

part one | part two | drabble one

“I can't take it anymore,” Jungkook says as he stumbles for the seventh time on his feet walking around the living room “I’m losing my mind, Bamie.”

The dog looks at his owner with his head pointed sideways as if he understands what he’s been sorrowing about for the past 10 minutes. The rain pours angrily outside the apartment, Jungkook sighs as he realizes talking to his big ass puppy won’t solve any of his problems.

“She’s like, 5 min away from us, Bam! I should text her, right?”

He looks over his phone again, your instagram story is open and a picture of a window full of raindrops is seen — he knows where you’re at, you’ve both been to that coffee shop over a hundred times for the past years now. Can’t remember the last time he’s been to that place ‘cause he couldn’t stand the thought of being there without you. Now he’s wondering, wondering, wondering. Wonders if you’re back for real this time. If you are alone. If you are thinking about him too. Wonders what would happen if he just replied your story right now.

@jeonjk97: heard it’s the best caramel macchiato in town 👍

No— that’s too lame. Quickly erases the message.

@jeonjk97: want a ride home? it’s pretty bad outside.

Throws his phone on the sofa as he realizes he doesn’t know if you would accept his offer, doesn’t know if you’re sharing an apartment with Lola again either. Realizes he doesn’t know anything that’s been going on with you for a while now. More than what you let your 897 followers on Insta know too, at least. Blames himself for it, but knows it was for the best. Misses you like a fucker anyway.

“I should just call her.”

He picks up his phone, then also realizes he deleted your number months ago so he wouldn’t call you whenever his drunk ass thought it was the right thing to do.

“For fucks sake, grow some balls, Jungkook” he whines angrily at the air purifier as if it is the source of his problems. “Okay, Taehyung will know what do.”

He calls his best friend quickly, and prays Taehyung picks up before he grabs his car keys and drives himself to the colorful little cafe at the end of the street. Remembers how much you loved that place and the cookies they served. One caramel macchiato with extra topping and two medium chocolate cookies. You always ordered the same thing. Every damn time. Said it was in you, to never let go of the things you loved. You let go of him anyway.

“Jungkook-ah! Why are you calling? I told you I can't go out—“

“She’s back in town.” He cuts Taehyung abruptly and suddenly the other line is mute as well. Probably doesn’t believe it’s happening just as Jungkook didn’t believe himself minutes ago.

“Man, are you sure? Like, back for real?” he says, and Jungkook swears he can hear the disbelief in his tone from the other side. Yeah, he knows Taehyung is full of his late night calls to talk about you. Knows he is the one that’s been listening to it for months now —besides from his dobermann, of course— he’s the one who gets it, ‘cause he’s the only one who feels bitterly betrayed too. You were one of his best friends and yet, he didn’t knew your plans to move out from Busan as well.

“Aish, I’m not sure hyung. But she posted a picture a little while ago at the cafe down the street.” he blurted out, “Can’t even think straight now, man. You think she’s back for the holidays?”

Taehyung wondered for a little while. It was still August, Chuseok was weeks later. He didn’t say it out loud, but it wasn’t like you to drop work for so long, even if it was to visit your hometown. Nevertheless, he didn’t want Jungkook to get his hopes up. He knows how he is. Doesn’t want to see his friend’s heart breaking all over again.

“Mmm. Maybe, don’t know.” he sighed out loud “I thought we agreed to unfollow her after the second month.”

He hears Jungkook’s sad chuckle on the other side of the line, “Yeah, we did.”

Taehyung knows Jungkook wouldn’t bring himself to do it tho, and now he just confirms it. Being a little bit more resentful than Jungkook gave him the motivation to do so, but it doesn’t mean he hasn’t been missin’ your ugly face.

“Ok, so I need you to refresh my mind now. Tell me something so I won’t step outside that door right this second and make a fool of myself.” Jungkook continues to talk as if he’s been charged on 220W. And maybe he was. His heart has never beaten so fast for the past twelve months. His hair is all over the place from the countless times he grabbed it since he saw your photo. The tip of his fingers are tingling. Yeah, maybe he’s been electrocuted or something.

“Go.”

“What?” Jungkook says in disbelief. Doesn’t think he hears straight, ‘cause Taehyung would be the last one to say such a thing.

“I said go, Jungkook.” he sighs for what it seems to be the tenth time on the phone call. “I know you need this. You haven’t been yourself for so long now. You two have to talk properly at some point.”

“Ay, how frustratin really—” he tsks.

“For real, man. Go. Now.” he firmly says “What’s the worst she can do, leave?” Jungkook senses the bitter words coming from Taehyung’s mouth. He knows he’s not mad at you, just hurt. Knows Taehyung would forgive you in a heartbeat if you said how sorry you were for everything that went thru. Wonders if he would forgive you that easily too. But he knows his friend is right. He needs closure. Needs this.

“Yeah. Right.” he bites his lips and looks around. Sees Bam looking at him, as if he’s expecting an action from him too. “I’ll talk to you later, bro. Thanks.”

He turns off the phone and grabs his car keys tightly. Yeah, he’s doing it. Won’t think too much, it’s better this way. He will get in the car, drive for 5 minutes. Enter the coffee shop. Order. Pretend he doesn’t know you’re there. Eventually look over the spot he knows you’re at, the same table over the corner where you two always used to sit together, by the large window. Grab the coffee and go over casually, ask how you’ve been. Offer you a ride home —to your parents, probably, since you moved out from your apartment on the neighborhood for a while now. Say it’s because of the rain, he knows you hate to ask for Ubers on the rain. Didn’t trust just anyone driving on bad weather. Such a smart girl. He misses the shit out of you.

“Damn, ok. Pack it up, man.”

He calls Bam to his house and watches as the dog quickly follow his lead, as if he knows Jungkook is too anxious to play around right now. “Dad will be back soon, okay? Behave.”

And so he checks out his hair one last time on the mirror at his bathroom and goes before he changes his mind.

The drive is pretty quick. It’s actually a route he does walking, but it’s still pouring rain so he’s carrying on. On a rainy day. To a coffee shop. To get a coffee he could have made at the comfort of his home with his own little coffee machine. But it’s okay, he will just play pretend for this time.

He stops the car and just realizes he forgot his umbrella. “Are you fucking serious, Jungkook?”

Great. Brilliant. He feels so fucking dumb right now.

Thankfully, due to the cold season he was wearing his black sweatshirt and sweatpants so the rain wouldn’t do so much damage. He quickly got off the car and ran inside the cafe.

Surprisingly, it was full for a rainy night. Perhaps everyone had the usual thought; too lazy to make their own foods, they step out to grab something warm on the best coffee in the neighborhood.

Jungkook plays the script on his head over and over again as he whipes his hair side to side like a fluffy dog to get rid of the water that soaked it a little bit.

He looks ahead to the counter and his mind goes blank as he sees you over there now. At the little chair on the middle of the cafe. You seem lonely, messing with your hair a little bit, making a braid with a single tiny lock. It’s an old habit to make time pass, and Jungkook hates he remembers every little detail about you. His heart now has stopped, dropped to his knees. He really misses you.

“Bee!” the waiter calls, and Jungkook recognizes the nickname. Knows it’s you, ‘cause he’s the one that gave it to you years ago. Used to call you bee just to make fun of you, ‘cause you’re such a sweet tooth. Never met someone that loves sugar more than you do, so he started to call you that since you two became friends.

He watches at the end of the waiting line as you get up, straight your hand and pick up two cookies in a little pink plate. Chocolate chips cookies. Your favorite. His favorite as well.

You start to eat slowly so he averts his eyes. Doesn’t want to be catch staring and look like a fucking weirdo. It’s not like he drove here to see you. Talk to you. Not at all, the coffee here is great.

Finally the line walks and it’s his turn. “One black coffee, please. No sugar.” He says softly and suddenly feels his neck start to tingle. Knows you just realized he’s here, and you’re staring at him. Pretends he doesn’t tho, so continues to talk to the waitress as she asks who she would call when it’s ready “JK.” he says, then turns around to look for somewhere to sit and wait for the order. Looks over the table that you originally were, the one you posted a photo of. Then realizes now there’s a couple there, laughing together and taking pics of each other. He knows you. Knows you most likely offered the clingy couple the table, cause the house is full, and you wouldn’t take the table just for yourself. Even if it meant you would end up eating by the counter on the little puffed chair, you loved to drool over the pastries anyways.

He slowly looks the other way. Knows you’re on this direction so he has to be careful. You’re looking down. Seem sad all of the sudden and he just wants to hug you. For fucks sake. This is harder than he thought.

He sighs again as he realizes the only spots available are the 2 chairs on your right. He chooses the one that’s a little bit far just to be safe.

As he walks down, his chest tightens a little bit more. Now he doesn’t know what he’s doing here. It was a bad idea. Doesn’t even remember what the plan was at the first place.

He can smell your perfume as he walks past you and it’s like someone punches his stomach. Your sweet smell fills his nostrils and he just wants to be closer. Shove his nose on your hair like he used to. Then go down your neck and feel your skin respond with little goosebumps as he moves along it softly. Damn it. Jungkook wants to curse the life out of you but he can’t even bring himself to be mad right now. Only knows he misses you. Your touch. Your kiss. You.

Finally he sits and pretends as if he didn’t notice you there, continually looking over his phone as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world trying to figure out what to do next.

“JK!” The waitress calls him and he’s put out of his own world, looking up right away. You seem to be startled too as you look directly at him. You two look at each other for what seems to be minutes in a trance. You give him a tiny smile. He gives one back.

“JK!” he hears the call again and pulls himself out of the trance, going to grab the coffee from the waitress who’s on your left side. He pays for it and looks at you again. You’re still looking at him. Kinda unsure on how to act, he figures. It’s okay, cause he doesn’t know how to either.

As he sits, now on the chair closer to your right, he looks straight ahead and takes a gulp of the coffee. “Fuck!” he curses and pulls the coffee cup away as he burns his tongue with the damn thing.

You laugh thru your nose and his ears rapidly catch the sweet sound he used to hear all the time. Looks sideways to you, “Funny, huh?” he feels the air a little bit less heavy now, and he’s relieved.

“You just never change, Koo.” you say, still with that damn smile on your face he adores so much. He can’t take his eyes off of you. Realizes he never got over you, not even for a second. Probably never will.

“Don’t call me that.” those damned butterflies on his guts as he digests what you’ve said. You know it’s his favorite nickname. Knows only you call him by it. Knows he melts alway with this shit everytime.

You’re staring at him like that. So pretty. Soft brown sparkly eyes he missed so much. Now they seem to start hardening. “I’m sorry.” You say with a broken voice, and he feels the air shift all over again in a matter of seconds. Doesn’t know if you’re apologizing for the sweet nickname. For leaving him. For not calling. For not coming back. For everything.

“How’s everything?” He tries to ease the air back again. “It’s been a minute.”

He sees the corner of your lips tremble a little bit and you gulp. His chest pangs. Wonders if he did the right thing by pretending you never existed for the past months now. Just wants to make up for all the time both of you lost.

“Yup, it has.” You reply after a while. “I’m doing okay. What about you?”

You look up at him like everything is okay. If he didn’t know you, he would believe you were. But he knows better. You can’t hide anything from him, really. At least that’s what he thought. Knows he could be wrong, just like he was a year ago too.

“Cool. I’m cool.” he licks his dry lips and starts to think about his next move. Mind starts to blow up, a trillion thoughts at the same time and he’s back at it again. Can’t put his neurons to work properly. You’re actually right here in front of him, how is he supposed to?

Seems like you’re struggling yourself too. He doesn’t know if you’re trying to come up with an excuse to leave right now, or trying to find a subject in common as well.

You stare at your now half eaten cookie like it’s the most valuable thing in the world. The other one is already on the bag to go. You probably were planning on taking home to eat when the late night sweet crave hits you, like he remembers. Will put it on the microwave so it gets warm again and take a cup of milk with you, like you used to. Turn on netflix and watch one of those lame cooking programs, ‘cause you loved to waste your time watching people losing their heads to make giant chocolate sculptures. He secretly loved watching it with you. It’s the reason he watched every episode back and forth while you were away too.

“Is Bamie okay?” you murmur, now staring at your coffee cup with a little smile, thinking about the little puppy. Remembers how energetic and loving he was. Just like Jungkook. “You haven’t posted him in a while now.”

His tongue feels bittersweet again. He’s somehow happy knowing that you’ve been catching up with his life throught social media, even tho he disappears once in a while. At the same time, he’s sad. You could have been there for Bam. Should have, since you are the one who came up with the idea in the first place. Said he needed a little friend to match up with his chaotic energy. He ended up convinced and adopted the little guy. You always tended to get the best of him. Promised you’d help him to take good care of the baby, but only spent three months with Bam. Still, it’s like the puppy knows something is missing. Every night he looks over the door at any noise, like he’s expecting you to come throught it. Just like Jungkook used to do for the first months back then.

“He’s great, actually. Bigger than I expected him to be. Eats like a fucking bear.” he giggles a little remembering his big boy. “He’s loud too. Don’t know how the neighbors still haven’t ganged up against me to kick us out of the apartment.”

You giggle alongside him imagining the chaos those two must have been doing together. “I figured. You always have spoiled him too much. Told ya he would get bad habits.”

“Hey! You spoiled him too!” he throws it right back. Remembers how you used to let Bam sleep with the two of you on bed. It took him months to break that habit from the puppy’s routine.

You look up at him and smiles. Bright now. You know he’s right. You’ve treated that puppy like it was your own son. Kinda misses the three of you together like a big happy family.

Suddenly a loud thunder is heard and both of you look out the foggy window at the same time. The sky is even darker now, angrily pouring rain like it’s the end of the earth. The coffee shop is emptier. Everyone outside your bubble must’ve realized that it was no longer safe to be out in the streets. But here you two are. Letting time pass by, enjoying each others presence even if it’s kinda weird. Kinda sad after all these months apart.

Jungkook knows it’s time to act. Step up and do what he was planning since he left home. Can’t bring himself to. Is too scared you will say no. Too scared you will let him down again.

“I think I should get going.” you say softly wrapping up what is left of the cookie and putting it on your bag over the counter. “The weather is getting worst.”

“Want a ride home?” Jungkook quickly says before he looses the sudden courage. Sees you're taken aback so he continues, “I know you won’t be able to catch an uber or taxi right now.”

You still wonder a little bit. Jungkook’s anxiety is bubbling up again as he waits your answer. Why can’t you accept a simple offer? You can’t stand the thought of being around him? Do you hate him? Perhaps you don’t want him in your life ever again. You want to stay like this. Just be somebody that he used to know.

And that’s what scares him the most.

“I brought an umbrella” you finally say. Jungkook frowns. Knows you have no umbrella with you, he would’ve seen it by now.

He puffs. Knows it’s bullshit, but won’t call it. “Right. Suit yourself.” Then he gets up, forgets his full coffee by the counter, now cold. He feels fucking cold too. Already regrets coming to this stupid cafe, in this stupid weather, for no stupid reason. He takes his sweatshirt off and puts it over his head so the rain won’t get to him this time. Opens the door.

“Jungkook! Wait!” you suddenly say. “I actually didn’t.” you say pouty, coming up to him.

He doesn’t say anything. Just takes his sweatshirt, puts it over your head instead. He was wearing his taegeuk warriors jersey underneath it, will definitely get soacked but can’t bring himself to care at all. Just cares about you. Holds the glass door for you just like old times. You look up at him with your big doll eyes and he can’t do anything but look back. It’s like you want to talk through them. He wonders what’s going through your pretty little head right now. Probably overthinking too much, just like he does.

“C’mon," he softly says "Let’s get you home.”

yayyy there it goes! my first ff ever i'm so happy <3 this was supposed to be an oneshot but i got carried away and wrote more than i expected so i had to cut it off hehe

also, please be aware that english is not my native language so i’m sorry if there’s any typos 🥹

i'll upload part 2 soon! if you want to be tagged pls comment under the post :) thanks for reading xx

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theyluvkarolina · 3 months

Note

Saw your post about requests being open and had this idea and I didn’t want to fall asleep and forget about it. Idk if you do Esteban Ocon but yeah. Esteban and Kpop idol, she real famous and she’s been soft launching someone for years but never revealed them because her management won’t allow her to reveal who it is. Anyways her contract ends and she reveals that the person she’s been soft launching is Esteban and they’re actually married and have a kid. (You can pick the gender). Thanks. Love the two works you put out already and can’t wait to read more 🫶

𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐓

. ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑ ` ` why the french guy bro 😞 … ` ` ⊹ ‧₊˚

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ୨୧ kpop and f1? what on earth would that have in common? a lot actually!

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ୨୧ esteban ocon x reader

𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌 ୨୧ most photos are of jennie!

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ୨୧ cursing, reader speaks her mind lol, pregnancy and kids?

𝐀/𝐍 ୨୧ I would be lying if I said I didn’t start tearing up at the end 🥹🩶 thank you so so much! people like you encourage me to keep going :)) Fair warning, I’m practically clueless about K-pop… but I still tried my best! I decided against having the reader be part of a group, but rather a soloist, just for my sake until I gain more knowledge. again, thank you so much lovely, I hope you and everyone else enjoy 🫶

this is def the longest one yet 😵‍💫

some of the concept isn’t exactly the same, but I definitely tried to best to give what you requested!

TWITTER, 2019

INSTAGRAM, 2019

therealyn_ln

therealyn_ln merci, paris! thank you to all who joined the show!

1,234 comments

username3 i literally couldn’t stop screaming,… best show yet!

→ therealyn_ln tysm! You fans always encourage me to try even harder!

username7 oh she’s totally ignoring the recent news flash…

→ username9 what news?! → username10 apparently, she was seen with some guy after her show in Paris!

username8 who is the mystery man?!

username11 why is no one mentioning the fact that esteban ocon is in the comments?!

→ username12 the fact that a f1 driver is even in the comments of a kpop idol is strange enough. → username13 it’s not even that, he WATCHED the show!

estebanocon glad to know you loved Paris! The show was amazing!

*liked by therealyn_ln!*

urmanagersuser call me. right now.

IMESSAGES

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therealyn_ln

therealyn_ln my biggest supporter 🧸🤎

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COMMENTS ON THIS POST HAVE BEEN TURNED OFF…

TWITTER, 2021

INSTAGRAM, 2021

therealyn_ln

therealyn_ln Me 🤝 First F1 Race! Honored to be a part of Alpine’s garage tonight! Wonderful work by @ fernandoalonso and @ estebanocon!

2,143 comments

fernandoalonso Of course. You are always welcome. 👍

username14 WHO IS THAT MAN??? I’VE BEEN WAITING SINCE ‘19!

username15 we lost her guys 😔😔

username16 Y/N and F1?! My life is at it’s highest!

username17 is that… the guy at her Paris show before the COVID-19 shut down?!

alpinef1team Thank you, Y/n! Overjoyed to have you join our garage and team! You certainly energized us this race 😉

estebanocon always willing to win! especially with your support 😊

username18 I can’t be the only one that’s been noticing something fishy lately…

estebanocon

liked by lance_stroll and therealyn_ln

estebanocon celebrating in style 🥂

5,213 comments

username19 estie bestie!!

username20 uhmm…. the dinner photo?!

username21 WHO IS HE WITH 🤔 🤔

username22 surely Y/N posting that photo with her soft launch bf and estie’s dinner isn’t a coincidence…

alpinef1team we keep pushing! 👊

IMESSAGES

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM, 2022

therealyn_ln

therealyn_ln Hello fans, for the next upcoming year, I will be taking a break from music, and embracing the love of my fans, and finally being able to share my love for my husband with not just me, but to finally show it to all of you.

happy new years to all! Happy 2022 :)

3,283 comments

username21 why the french guy bro 😞

username19 HUSBAND?!

username22 SINCE WHEN WAS SHE MARRIED?!

username20 what happened to hi? my name is?

username18 I TOLD YOU GUYS SOMETHING I FISHY

alpinef1team Mr and Mrs L/N-Ocon 🫡

estebanocon ma beauté 🩷

*liked by therealyn_ln!* → therealyn_ln the prettiest :))

INSTAGRAM, 2023

therealyn_ln

therealyn_ln happy anniversary my love! 🤍 this was the best gift anyone can receive. Loving you now and for forever.

username21 WHAT IS HAPPENING RN

username19 no way.

username22 A BABY ALREADY?

username20 i’m at a loss for words.

alpinef1team Future driver in the works! 🏁👀

estebanocon so happy to be part of this journey with you my love ❤️

→ therealyn_ln my favorite frenchie 🥐 → charles_leclerc :( → pierregasly damn. → francisca.cgomes don’t worry @ pierre_gasly you’re always my fav ❤️

therealyn_ln

therealyn_ln welcome to the world baby Alix 🤍

12 comments

landonorris can’t wait to be the favorite uncle

→ charles_leclerc sorry to break it to you Lando, but i’m going to be the favorite → alex_albon you’re lying it’s me → lance_stroll definitely me → maxverstappen1 nope, me. → carlossainz55 lo siento, it’s me! → danielricciardo bursting your bubble! It’s none of you cause I’m right here! → logansargeant i can’t wait to teach them some american football :) → pierregasly it’s definitely not me.

#☆ﾟ smau ↳ theyluvkarolina ◝#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 social media au #f1 smau #formula 1 #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #formula one x you #esteban ocon #esteban ocon x reader #esteban ocon x you #☆ﾟasks ↳ theyluvkarolina ◝#f1 fic

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kithtaehyung · 10 months

Text

seven days (m) (teaser) | jjk

POSTED HERE JULY 22ND, 2023!! upcoming series: seven days (m) pairing: fuckboy!jungkook x reader(f) genre/rating: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; roommates to lovers au summary: you dump yet another guy that wasn’t up to your “ten day standards,” which leaves your cocky ass, very off-limits roommate to tease your single status yet again. but the teasing is always expected. what’s not expected, is the bet that you make without thinking. the bet that even though you give ten days, he wouldn’t even last seven. warnings: cursing, alcohol/vape mentions, parties, he wears glasses sometimes😔👍, chains bc it’s tradition atp lmaooo, cocky!jk, feelings🤕, big big big jk, flirty!jk, baddie!reader😌, multiple explicit scenes🫠, jk constantly in grey sweatpants and nothing else :))), full lists to be revealed each chapter! notes: …so this song called seven dropped and— notes 2: but really there was a fic that had been in the wips for a minute, and i just so happened to have a burst of energy to expand on it so here we are! making it a series to allow myself time to dedicate meaningful energy to each scene and not rush them💕 est. chapters: prologue | mon | tue | wed | thurs | fri | sat | sun | seven days est. running dates: july-september 2023 taglist: sign up here (i check every entry so read the rules!) teaser: below the cut if you want a taste 🩵

—

“Sure did,” Jungkook puffs before stepping away, taking all the tight space with him and letting you breathe again. “But all I’m saying is, you gotta lower your standards or—”

“No.”

“Or,” he continues, giving you a look, “Not complain if they’re too high.”

“Well, thank you.” With your nose grazing the sky, you point out, “I’d like to think they’re just right.”

“What even are they anyway? All you’ve said is something about ten days.”

“That’s basically it,” you murmur, resting your arms on the island as to not have your chest in full view. “If I still like someone after ten days, I know I’d be fine dating them for real.”

There’s silence when you finish. When you finally look, the gawk you’re getting in return almost makes you laugh. “What?”

“You mean those days are only a trial run?”

You do break into laughter this time, burying your face in slight shyness. “And what about it!”

“Are you serious—?” Jungkook rounds the island so that he can speak directly at your hidden features. “Has anyone even gotten past all ten with you?”

You pause, breath fanning the granite top beneath you and wisping around your face. When you lift your gaze above your arms, you keep it trained on the countertop instead of his curiosity,

“No.”

He doesn’t say a word.

“Not since my standards changed.”

And you think that’s the end of this conversation. Because what else is there to say? You know your expectations are impossible but you think this is a hell of a lot better than—

“I could do it.”

“What.” A glare is shot. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“You? No.” You shake your head. “You wouldn’t even last seven.”

“Try me,” he challenges, and you still can’t take him seriously despite the fire in his eyes. “I’ve lasted a lot more than that as your roommate, right?”

“But that’s—this is—this is different! Be for real, Kook.” You vacate the island and head to your room, having enough of his teasing for one morning.

But you get stopped at the doorway, a bare chest and chains blocking your vision and sending your mind into a frenzy. When you flick your gaze to his face, he simply says, with the straightest expression,

“I am.”

tbc. :))

🦋 soooo how do we feel !! | wanna be tagged? 🩵

a/n: yeah idk what happened to me. one moment i was saying i wasn't gonna get bitten by the seven bug, and the next.. well. this happened lol. anyway! taglist is on a form so that i can easily keep track of who to tag. pls make sure to either tell me ur age in the survey or to have it on your blog bc i check all entries when tagging. prologue is already written and will be up soon! ++ ⇥ masterlist

#bts fic #bts imagines #bts reactions #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts smut #*ryenfictalk #ryenwrites #*latest #teasers #bts fanfic #jjk fic #7days

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ayakaack · 5 months

Text

Malleus x f!reader

Mating (this man is in heat),Rough cause that's all ik to do, my first ever malleus piece 😋 cause im in love with him

Implied breeding

Not proofread 👍

Anyways hope you enjoy 🩷or something

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Malleus has never been a harsh person or exactly rough in bed

But on those times whenever it's "mating season"

Just say bye to any sort of soft sex with him

Smut below here 🤧

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

For you it was a regular day going as it usually did you met up with ace to talk about god knows what and you left back to your dorm

Little did you know malleus was watching from a good distance and now that it's that season he's been really jealous of anything/anyone that gets to spend time with you

But you didn't know that you didn't know he was watching and was slowly losing his shit

Over any guy that you talked to

Since malleus was always prepared for this type of stuff and since it came unexpectedly he didn't tell you about anything cause he thought it might be weird

But oh were you in for a surprise when you had decided to visit him

You normally visit him whenever you get the time or almost everyday

So today didn't feel as weird when you visited him and today you wanted to wear one of those nice outfits that mal has given you,maybe thinking it might be a good surprise

So you headed on over to dorm

When you got there you'd normally see someone just chilling in the lounge but you didn't

So you made your way to malleus's room and knocked

But he didn't answer

So you tried the door and you noticed it was open so you went in and in that room was malleus in his bed

Covered in layers of blankets sweating from head to toe

"Malleus! Are you okay? Sick?" You asked

"You shouldn't be here" he said in a raspy voice a bit weaker

"What why?" You asked concerned coming closer to him and sat on the bed not too far from him

"I need you" was all he said back

Before basically jumping on you and kissing you harshly, as you where frozen cause you didn't even realize how fast he was

He started kissing you and trailing down to your neck and started sucking and biting, normally he wasn't harsh at all but he was using his full strength not to rip all your clothes off right now

He asked if you where okay with what's going to happen and then it caught you

Now you had realized that he was in heat or mating season (or whatever)

But you couldn't just leave him like this to suffer and since this might last a while on him

So you gave him your full permission to do whatever he pleases with you, thankfully malleus has some decency<3

So he started to take off your clothes as he did you rapped your legs around his waist

He started to play with you like sucking your tits and he placed one finger in your entrance Which was added on with two more

Cause you didn't realize this man apparently grows in size whenever it's mating time (malleus x3 idk however big u want you get)

So now you already where a moaning mess grabbing on to anything close like a pillow or the sheets

Not to mention the tears that where already streaming down

He continues to play with you until you came on his fingers so he pulled them out and stared licking

So he got down and started eating you out making sure to leave no drop as you muffled your noises with the pillow to not make anyone else hear

As he started massaging your clit with his thumb and the other hand massaging your boobs

He started basically tongue fucking you since his was long af

And so you came in his tongue, tasting your sweat from here he couldn't get enough

So he pulled his tongue out licking off any remainders and started kissing you, you let in already

And he started to put his tip in your tongue

Fucked cunt

Even the feel of his tip made you get shivers everywhere since you already where so sensitive

He slowly inched in you felt the stretch of his big cock since in heat it gets bigger isn't that wonderful

As he was half way in you grapped his horns as a support and he lifted your bottom half for a better reach in

Once he was fully in you where out of breath, shaking and crying and seeing the bulge he couldn't hold back

He slowly started pulling in and out with his pace getting faster as he kept going

You grabbed his horns shoulders anything to keep you up

He was fucking you so harshly :(

You couldn't even feel anything but pleasure

He was basically fucking you into to mattress

As he violently fucked your cunt all you could do is scream and hide them in the pillow

The more you grabbed his horns the more turned on he gets

But even after you came so many times he's yet to cum you started biting him and even after a while you had gone completely brain fucked too only a bit of human decency stayed with you

As you has changed positions so many times

And when he did come in you he didn't hold back he basically filled you to the brim some leaking out but he wouldn't allow that now would he

So he would fuck it back into you <3

Now he was satisfied and how Long where you two going at it, for about a few hours

You had already passed out and he was too intoxicated with you to leave your side

You definitely can't walk for a while

And once you woke up all you felt was sticky all over especially in-between your thighs, malleus has yet to wake so you tried to walk to the bathroom and failed

Thankfully to your beloved Malleus who scents that you moved he woke and helped you clean off

And you know who was waiting for you two outside Malleus's room?

Lilia!

Good luck explaining the noises to him (he knows he just wants to fuck with them)

So as Malleus and You are sat outside, you with a flushed face and Malleus scrambling to say anything

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The end I'm too lazy to continue you gotta convince me.

Thanks for reading ig 👍

This took me about 34 minutes to make

YES I'M GONNA WRITE MORE SOON CAUSE I HAVE FREE TIME :3

(Shout out to school being closed for Christmas)

#malleus x reader #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland malleus #malleus x yuu #twst malleus #malleus smut #smut tw #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland headcanons #disney twst #twst wonderland #twst

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tyunni · 1 year

Text

NISHIMURA RIKI B☆YFRIEND HEADCANONS...

ㅤㅤㅤㅤenhypen masterlist | library | ni-ki bf hc part 1

a/n: man when will it be may over riki era... probably never. anyways pt 2 to my riki bf headcanons post 😭 p.s. i DID post this on a side blog a while ago to try out tags so if u saw that no u didnt lol

genre: fluff ☝️ warnings: not proofread, kissing, if you want me to add anything please let me know!

idrk how to start this off so we're just gonna get str8 into it yeah lets GO

he is so whipped for you it's actually concerning. everyone can tell he is absolutely head over heels for you. from the way his eyes sparkle when he looks at you to the way he can't shut up about you, it's just so obvious.

he adores you, honestly.

he can't help but smile when he sees you, always admiring you. doesn't matter what you're doing; be it you brushing your teeth, eating food, putting your shoes on, or sleeping. doesn't matter! he's watching you with hearts in his eyes and a grin spread across his face from ear to ear.

his heart swells whenever you hug and/or kiss him. he may not act like it, but he is so soft for you it's actually insane. he melts in your arms the second you wrap them around him. feels safe and content, closing his eyes as he buries his head in your shoulder.

physical affection is very very important to him, it makes him feel special. he enjoys it more than he likes to admit, to be honest!

he loves loves loves kisses!! you littering kisses all over his face? he's down. him littering kisses all over your face? he's down. a kiss on his cheek? absolutely! giving him a big phat smooch on the lips?? you just made him the happiest boy ever!!!!!

(more under the cut!)

if you cup his face in your hands and just enjoy the moment as you get lost in each other's eyes he will get all mushy and lovey dovey. it's moments like these that make him realize just how in love he is with you, how much he cherishes you, and how he wants to show you he appreciates you.

riki isn't really the best with words, it's a bit awkward for him to verbalize his feelings toward you... and also impossible as well, because he simply can not describe the overwhelming amount of love he has for you.

but whenever the time calls, he can list a thousand reasons as to why he fell in love with you. from your beauty to your personality, he notices things about you even you don't notice, and it never fails to make you smile (which is basically all that matters to him)

3AM dates with riki? 3AM dates with riki.

it's a must, honestly. whenever he can't sleep he almost always messages you. he doesn't like to bother you, but he can't help it! he's so bored and you're his s/o, who else would he spam at like 2 in the morning??

he's always amused when you answer him & complain about how you were about to go to sleep and how he disturbed you. but he knows you're lying by the way you're refusing to leave when he tells you he won't mind if you go to bed and that he can always just go back to scrolling through tiktok.

"oh you're sleepy? okay 👍 i'll just go back to tiktok then" "NO DONT GO IM NOT GOING TO SLEEP YET"

and when he offers to go snack hunting at a 24 hour convenience store, who are you to refuse? and even if you were to refuse... too bad he's literally at your door right now, open up y/n <3

sometimes he doesn't even message you beforehand, he just randomly shows up at your house and the next thing you know you're taking a walk while everyone else in your neighborhood is sound asleep.

tries his best to be super cliche romantic with you. says he does it only cuz he knows you want him to do it, when in reality a part of him has always wanted to recreate those overused cute scenes in romance movies.

he will never admit to it, but sometimes he purposefully sets your dates on the days he knows there will be rain. he checks the weather beforehand just to make sure it's a rainy day 😭

but why? you may ask...

so he can take off his warm jacket and drape it over your figure when he notices you shaking and shivering beside him. so he can pull out his umbrella - specifically the smallest umbrella he could find at the dorms so he has an excuse to pull your body against his side and protect you from the rain droplets that slowly fall onto the top of your head.

and most importantly, so he can walk you home, discard the umbrella once he reaches your doorstep, watch as the rain drops glide down from your head to your face. and then he leans in and gently wipes them away from your features as he smiles softly when he notices your breath hitch at the close proximity. his hands then find their way to your cheeks, thumbs wiping away more droplets as the rain gets heavier and heavier. and at this point neither of you care that your clothes are basically drenched. all that you can focus on is how he's so gently holding your face in his hands, how he's looking into your eyes with so much love and adoration, and how he is so close to you that you can admire all the pretty moles that are scattered across his face, thinking that it's impossible for him to get any closer. but when he tilts his head and somehow shortens the proximity even more you can't help but flutter your eyes shut as you feel his lips lightly graze over yours. but he doesn't kiss you. he simply smiles before completely pulling away, grabbing his umbrella and walking off.

Yeah HE'S ANNOYING 😑😑😑👎👎👎

and when u run inside your house pull out ur phone and proceed to spam him telling him he can't just do that & that if he pulls that shit on you ever again ure gonna break up w him...

yeah he just smirks 🧍‍♀️ bcuz he knows u dont mean it- OF COURSE U DON'T- he's got u wrapped around his finger, there's no way out, i fear...

but let's not pretend he's not wrapped around your finger... cuz he is.

if you suddenly call him to hang out or tell him you miss him he is basically running to your location!!

but not before pretending that he's too busy and complaining about how you're so "needy" and "obsessed" with him, but in a lighthearted manner obviously.

he would rather step on a bunch of spikey nails with his bare feet than upset you with his words. and if he feels that his words affected you in a bad way he will kiss you all over your face and reassure you that he didn't mean it like that

he's soft but just for you 🫰

well... maybe not just for you but he's definitely the most comfortable showing you his soft side 🫶 you're basically the only one he doesn't feel awkward sharing his lovey dovey mushy thoughts with

even though he's confident now, just like the first few months of your relationship, he still gets shy around you. he thinks it's embarrassing, but you think it's cute :)

for example, when he tries to call you new pet names that you two aren't usually used to.

the second the word sweetheart left his lips he immediately turned away from your figure, hid his face in his hands and cringed at himself for even contemplating calling you that. you had to practically beg him to turn around because he was refusing to look at you for a good 5 minutes 😭

"that was so bad, y/n. why did i say that?"

and then he whines about it to you so if you want him to shut up you have to hold his face and give him a quick kiss

one time you tried shutting him up by putting your hand over his mouth... but it backfired. he licked your palm 🧍‍♀️ so naturally, you used his shirt as a tissue and wiped your palm on him while complaining about how gross he was

yeah... a kiss it is.

speaking of kisses, he loves them

more specifically, he loves catching you off guard with them.

you two could be play fighting with pillows, watching a movie, bickering, cuddling, simply talking and suddenly his lips are on yours?

mostly he pulls this on you when you two are playing video games and he feels that there's a chance he might lose to you

he puts down his controller, gently grabs your chin, squishes your cheeks so your lips pout and gently puts his plush lips on yours.

inevitably, you close your eyes. biggest mistake you've ever made.

with one hand still squishing your cheeks and his lips still moving in sync with yours, he uses his other hand to pick up his controller and beats your ass in the game

when you hear the victory cheers coming from the TV you quickly open your eyes and gasp in shock at the sight of the screen.

you call him a dirty cheater, which is true...

but is it really cheating if he's kissing you?

"you cheated!! you were kissing me just to distract me, what the hell?!"

"it's not cheating if you don't get caught 😁"

"that doesn't even apply to this scena-"

boom! he kisses you again.

he's a shithead. but he's your shithead.

©tyunni please don't copy, translate or repost any of my work!

taglist: @geombyu @junityy @uygmoeb @sunghun @krewified @eternallyhyucks @pshjae @marknaeroni @feyregels @yyx2 @koishua @kac-chowsballs @echo-of-a-writer @w3bqrl @liz-riz @duolingofanaccount @goldenhypen @sungniverse @enhasimpeu @sieuneo @acciomylove @soobin-chois @anik-4 @yjwfav @ja4hyvn @ddeonubaby @deafeningballoonnacho @squiishymeow @odxrilove @iyeonjuni @nyaforniki @kittyeji @pinkyyyujin @addictedtothesummernights @love-4-keum @luveill @enhastolemyheart @kpop-kitkat @kageyama-i-want-tobiors (bold means i can’t mention you, if you want to be a part of my taglist fill this out!!)

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macfrog · 9 months

Text

illicit affairs

cowboy like me chapter eleven

howdy everyone it's me again 🤠 latest chapter of cowboy like me is now yours. do with it as you wish. love u all so much. see ya soon x

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: your relationship with joel is getting harder and harder to hide, especially when a surprise visit from your dad threatens to spoil your romantic weekend

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) reader is a lil hungover, gluten bagels, lots of LIES, reader and joel being horny devils, gene kelly, unprotected piv sex, sex tape, praise kink, fluff, cockwarming, angst!!! and pain!!!!, reader and joel fight, cheating....??, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), cursing

word count: 8.4k

series masterlist | main masterlist

You wake in the same position you fell asleep in just hours ago: curled up in Joel’s bed, the curve of his body safely encasing yours. His lips are still by your ear, breath gentle against your lobe. You lean over to lift your phone from the nightstand.

8:14. You’ve had less than four hours’ sleep.

Below the time there’s a text message, sent a couple hours ago.

Dad: Remember to take the trash out before you pass out kiddo. Hope you had a good night 👍

Well, that was never happening, was it? As far as your dad knows, his best friend had picked you up from Frank’s and given you a ride home. Probably walked you to the house on his steady arm, made sure you downed a glass of water before seeing you off upstairs to bed. Polite. Respectful.

Of course, your dad is blissfully unaware that, in actual fact, at 6AM you were in said best friend’s bed, pressed up against him, no clothes between you, fast asleep. Definitely not making sure the trash was out.

The bright screen burns into your eyes as you squint at the notification below his text, decorated with alarm emojis – your way of ensuring you remembered to get back before him. DAD HOME stares back at you ominously, eventually persuading you to push yourself up off the mattress, loosen Joel’s lazy hold on your waist, and slip out of bed.

Joel, still asleep, rolls across your side of the bed onto his stomach when you sit up, sighing into your pillow as you prop yourself on the edge of the bed. You sit for a minute, dumb smile wide across your lips with no one to conceal it from, staring at him. Studying every part of him in his content, sleepy state.

The sharp curve of his jawline, the flecks of gray through his beard. The soft brush of hair falling on his forehead, deep brown curling just above his eyebrows. His toned shoulder, round and strong, flexing some with the grip his arm has around your pillow. His face buried in the cotton, breathing you in.

You jump when your phone starts vibrating in your hand, pad across to the door and slip out, closing it gently behind you.

“Hello?” you whisper.

Your dad’s voice is like a foghorn in your hungover ear. “Mornin’, kiddo! Wake ya?”

You wince, clutching your forehead as the quick movement from Joel’s bed to his hallway catches up with your aching brain. “Mighta done, yeah.”

He chuckles. The car hums in the background while he talks, meaning he yells even louder to compensate. “I’m about an hour out, thought I’d bring in some breakfast. You want anythin’?”

“I’m good with whatever. You’ll be back soon?”

“Nine-thirty or so, looks like. Why?”

“Nothin’, just wondered. I’ll see you in a bit, then.”

“Hey, d’you take the trash out?”

“Uh, I can’t– You’re breakin’ up, there, Dad, I’ll see you when you get home. Alright, cool, see ya then, bye.”

You cut his babbling voice and hang up, clutching the phone to your chest, close your eyes and exhale. When you swing back into the room quietly, Joel’s still sleeping.

You slip back into your dress and pull your boots on, scanning the room for your panties. No sign of them, though, and it’s not like you got all the time in the world to search. They’re probably underneath Joel’s deadweight body, anyway.

You tiptoe over to the side of the bed and crouch, kissing his neck softly.

He stirs, hand lets go of the pillowcase and finds yours, intertwining your fingers sleepily.

“I gotta go, baby,” you whisper, running your fingers through his unkempt hair.

His voice mumbles into the cotton, deep and groggy. You catch the tail end of his sentence: “…give you a ride.”

“No,” you reply, laughing a little as you sweep hair from his forehead. “I’m good, I’ll walk. You sleep. I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Text me when you’re…home…”

The words barely pass through his lips as he begins to drop off again, and you kiss his head before straightening up, grabbing your bag, and heading downstairs.

You dip into the kitchen before you go, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. You’re fucking parched. Hungover, exhausted, you roll the freezing cold bottle across your forehead. It does little to soothe the throbbing pain, but it takes the edge off of it for a few seconds before you’re slinging the bottle under your arm and searching through Joel’s cupboard.

You steal a bagel. Feels kinda hard, probably a day past its best, but it’ll do. You set off, picking at the dry bread as you walk, holding it between two fingers as you gulp at the water.

It’s the blandest walk of shame that ever happened.

Twenty minutes later and you’re pushing through your front door, fucking drenched in sweat. Your jacket’s tied around your waist, leather hot and stiff. You toss your keys on the kitchen counter and collapse into the couch, letting your heartrate settle and waiting for the room to stop pulling in and out of focus.

Your head is pounding now, your throat feels like sandpaper. Your body aches, though if you’re honest with yourself, you’re not sure that’s just from the hangover.

Once you’re in a fitter state, pulse no longer beating through your eyeballs, you head upstairs and tears your clothes off to jump in the shower. You keep it on a low heat, only warm, and it soothes your skin and flushes the smell of alcohol, sweat, and Joel down the drain.

You’re back in the kitchen, hunched over the counter nursing a coffee, when your dad waltzes through the front door. You lift your towel-wrapped head from your hand and look up.

“Well, hello,” he calls. “I notice ours is the only house in the street with no tra–”

“How was your trip?” you cut in, eyes screwing shut.

“Ha. Good. Nice drive, up that way. I got us bagels. Want one?”

Sometimes it’s like some twisted fucker is sat writing this comedy into your life. He brought home bagels? After you just choked one down walking home in the blistering heat? Whatever, dude.

“Thanks,” you mutter flatly against your mug, reaching out for the paper bag he’s offering.

Your dad lifts his own bagel, takes a huge bite, then looks up at you and gives an enthusiastic thumbs up. When you bite into yours, you’re…less enthusiastic. It does taste better than the dry one you just had, though. The cream cheese helps.

“I, uh…I’ll be headin’ out again soon,” you tell him.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Staying at Anna’s tonight,” you lie, setting your coffee down. “Said we’d have a pool day.”

He nods, mouth full of food. “Sounds nice, kiddo. Nice day for a tan. Hey, uh, how was Joel?”

You almost choke on your bagel. “Wh-what?”

“Joel. He alright?”

You shrug, picking at the bread. Unable to meet your dad’s eye. “I dunno. Why don’t you ask ‘im? I don’t know how he is.”

He stares at you. Brows knit, a line between them pointing upward. “I was just wonderin’…since he…He did pick you up last night, right?”

Oh, fuck.

“Oh,” you bat a hand, tucking it back under the counter when you notice it trembling. “Oh, right. I thought you meant this morning. Yeah, he was fine. He…Yeah. Fine.”

“Uhuh,” your dad nods, eyes narrow.

You don’t have the energy or the brainpower to be convincing. Not right now. There’s alcohol still drying up in your blood, muscles still tight from that fucking hike home, and your mind isn’t even in the room with your dad right now. It’s elsewhere – wrapped up in Joel’s bedsheets with him.

“I hope you didn’t keep him up too late.”

“It was, like, 2AM or somethin’. Wasn’t so bad. He said he was up watching TV anyways. So.”

He seems to believe this – swallows it down with the last few bites of his breakfast. You continue chatting, covering over your blunder like packing dirt back into a hole in the earth, conversation drifting from how your girls night went, to how his trip was, to an awkward apology for ‘forgetting’ the trash. He won’t let that go, will he?

But it’s short-lived. Soon, you both fall into silence, and the air between you feels muggy. Thick with lies and secrecy. Things you can’t say – I wanted a McDonald’s, but Joel wouldn’t budge, then I caught him watching Grey’s Anatomy, did you know he’s only slept with ten – I mean nine people?

Your dad glances up a few times, studies your face. You hide behind your bagel, guilt and shame across your cheeks like a wine stain. But he only smiles pleasantly, until he’s throwing the last bite into his mouth and rubbing his hands together, announcing he’s going for a shower.

“I’ll take your bag to your room,” you crumble the paper wrapped inside your fist, toss it across to him, “I gotta pack anyways.”

“Thanks, kiddo,” he says, patting your back as you pass him.

You don’t look back when you lift the leather straps of his bag and lug it upstairs.

It drops from your clutches with a thud at the foot of his bed. And then you’re quite literally skipping through to your own room, grabbing a black tote from your closet and blindly tossing clothes into it. A spare t-shirt, underwear, socks. Who gives a fuck what you pack? You’re going to Joel’s – the clothes will probably last five minutes on your body before you’re peeling them off again.

One thing you do take time picking is your bikini, opting for a red strappy one. Your old roommate once told you it made you look like you were in an episode of Baywatch. Which, y’know, seems like Joel’s kinda thing.

Your dad’s stood by his bed, hair damp from his shower, unpacking his bag when you emerge from your room.

“That you leaving your old man?” he asks with a tut, folding a t-shirt onto the mattress in front of him.

You wander through, sweet smile on your face, and kiss his cheek. “See ya tomorrow.”

“Have fun, honey.”

And then you’re gone. Straight back to Joel’s.

You’ve been away a couple hours, if that, but when you wander up his driveway, he’s not home. He keeps a spare key under a plant by his door, so you let yourself in. Sink back into his couch, throw on an old episode of Love Island while you wait. Twenty minutes later, his truck pulls up and he shoulders the door open, grocery bags in his arms.

“Hi, baby,” he says, leaning down to kiss your head as he passes.

You switch the TV off and follow him through to the kitchen to help him unpack, rocking into his side as you empty the bags with a giggle.

“He ask?”

You shake your head, chewing on a Twizzler.

“Nothin’? Really?”

“Didn’t really give him time to,” you reply. “Had breakfast, grabbed my stuff, left. And I parked a couple streets away, just on the off-chance.”

Joel looks down at you with a hesitant smile on his lips. He steals the Twizzler from between your teeth and puts it in his own mouth.

“Dick,” you mumble, and he chuckles quietly.

“You know, darlin’…all this lyin’, covering our tracks, I…”

“Joel,” you lean into him, standing on your tiptoes to peck his lips. “I don’t care. There’s nowhere else in the world I wanna be. Just with you. He’ll find somethin’ to do, you know he will.”

He gazes at you for a few seconds, eyes flitting back and forth between yours. You lean your head back and his arm snakes around your waist, squeezing you into his side.

“Trouble,” he mutters, taking a six-pack of beer over to the fridge.

----------

The summer sun blazes down over Joel’s backyard, and the pair of you spend the afternoon by his pool, keeping cool by having a dip every now and then. The red bikini is, as it turns out, a hit: Joel can’t keep his eyes – or his hands – off you, anytime you push up off your lounge chair and slink over to the pool edge, slipping in beside him.

You lock your arms around his neck, legs lazily draped over his hips as he floats you both through the water, and turn your head to the sky; eyes shut, the inside of your lids bright red with the sun screaming down through them. Joel idly kisses your chest, lips curving around your collarbones.

“I like this,” you say, looking down at him. Droplets run down the ends of his dark hair, beads of water rolling down his temples. “I could get used to it.”

“Wish we could,” he replies, bucking you up under his forearms. “I like it, too.”

It feels nice, if a little bit of an ache. Hearing him talk like that. Everything you two ever say, no matter how thick with sincerity, is laced with threat. Wish we could. Because you never will be able to get used to it, right? Something will always be swimming underneath you, a black shadow that disappears whenever you attempt one good glance at it.

Something always threatening to spill your secrets. Something threatening to blow everything apart.

Joel lifts a hand to cup the back of your head and pulls your lips down to meet his, moving backward until his back hits the wall of the pool. Your teeth pick up his bottom lip, tongue slips past into his mouth, and he groans, smiling into the kiss.

You begin to feel him harden under his trunks, and you grind your core against him.

“Inside?” he breathes between kisses.

“Mhm,” you whine, and he drags you out of the pool back into the house.

You spend the entire day following a pattern: eat, chill, tease, fuck. Eat, chill, tease, fuck. As the sun begins to melt behind the trees lining Joel’s backyard, you’ve spend more time on your knees, underneath, or on top of Joel than you have actually tanning.

Can you blame yourselves? Whenever you get alone time with no risk of being caught, it’s hard to keep your hands off one another. With no reason to keep quiet or hidden, you can fuck around all you want without a care in the world, right?

Right.

You order pizza, laze in the slow-dying sun to eat it, talking about nothing and everything before one of you steers the conversation and, before you know it…your bikini bottoms are pushed to the side, or otherwise torn from your body.

Eat, chill, tease, fuck. It’s too easy.

When the yard is finally drowned by dusk, Joel grabs some blankets and you spend the evening on his couch, talking some more and then deciding which movie to watch. You’ve never seen Singin’ in the Rain. Joel takes obscene offense to this fact.

“What kind of film student ain’t seen Singin’ in the Rain?”

“We actually did study it for one of my classes,” you mutter, tossing popcorn into your mouth. “Flicked through the important parts. Wasn’t my thing.”

“Well, you gotta watch the whole film. It’s a classic. Won at the Oscars ‘n everythin’.”

His enthusiasm almost makes you hold back – the way he’s sat on the edge of his seat, twisted around to chastise you properly for your ignorance of musical film. This could be the most animated you’ve ever seen him – over Gene Kelly. So, you almost bite your tongue.

Almost.

“Didn’t it…famously get nothing?”

His face sours in a heartbeat. Expression drops like a sack of bricks. He turns away from you and throws himself back into the couch, grumbling. “Alright, smartass. Watch it, and we’ll talk after.”

“I’m just sayin’, it–”

“We’ll talk. After.”

It’s still not your thing. For a multitude of reasons, but the newest one, the most difficult of all to let go: you can’t get the way Joel spoke out of your mind.

Just shut you right up, didn’t he? With three flat words, and a look in his eye that warned you not to push him. But fuck, you want to. You want to make him talk. Now.

Fifteen minutes into the film, you sit forward and swipe his phone from the coffee table.

“What are you doin’?” he asks in that monotone voice, the one he always uses whenever you’re pissing him off. Whenever you’re…getting to him.

“Bored,” you state, thumbs tapping in his passcode. You’ve been around him enough by now, studying every little move he makes, to just absorb dumb little things about him like the fact that his passcode is 0908, because those are the three numbers his thumb can reach easiest.

The phone clicks open and your eyes dance over the screen, deciding which app to load first.

Joel says your name. Just once. But it’s enough.

You angle your head in his direction. Bat your eyelashes.

“Enough. Watch the damn movie, would ya?”

Your head rolls back around to his phone. You click the photos app.

Joel curses under his breath, shaking his head and turning back to the screen. His eyes are boring into the pixels, mumbling things you’re too busy scrolling through his camera roll to listen to.

It’s mostly screenshots. Contracts, invoices, receipts. Boring Joel stuff. There’s the odd photo of his backyard, a few where the sunset rips across the tops of the trees in a fiery glow. They’re a little tilted, a little off balance. You smile at his attempt at photography.

“You gotta learn how to straighten your pictures, dude.”

“Took that for you,” he utters through a mouthful of popcorn. “Thought you’d like the sky with the trees in front, ‘n all.”

“Coulda text me it,” you say, letting him swipe through the photos to show you, each one from a slightly different angle to get more of the trees in, crop the pool out, hide the horrendous rosebush his neighbor has creeping over his fence.

He shrugs, pulling his hand away. “Musta been distracted by all the dumb stuff you send me.”

“Fine, no more funny videos. You’ve done it now, Miller.”

He chuckles and his attention turns back to the film. You’re slowly creeping further back through his pictures – measurements for something he’s building, different thicknesses of lumber propped against each other under the fluorescent light of Home Depot. And then –

You recognize the huge arching window first. Sunlight casting across a white tablecloth, polished cutlery shimmering. The velvet curtains in the background, and the made-up diners dotted around behind you and Sarah, both grinning into her phone camera.

“When did you…?”

Joel’s lips press the crown of your head. “Saw her gettin’ her phone out ‘n thought it’d be a nice picture from that angle, too.”

“Joel…” you breathe, eyes stuck on the image of your swollen cheeks, more centered in the frame than Sarah’s brown curls.

Your thumb swipes once and there’s a second photo: Sarah’s arm is lowered, she’s typing out her caption. You’re still smiling, looking over her shoulder as she selects the perfect cocktail of emojis.

She’s barely in the frame. It’s all you. Only you.

“I can’t believe you,” you whisper, limp hands dropping the phone to your stomach.

“’s just a photo, baby.”

And he’s right. Or – he’d be right, if it weren’t the only two photos of a human being in his entire camera roll. The only person he deems worth taking a picture of. The only one, in amongst trees, and emails, and wooden planks. The things that make up Joel, in your mind. His work, his home, and…you.

As quick as the thought delights you, it’s already terrifying you. Thrill barging through your veins, competing with fear to shock through your system the hardest.

“Alright,” you mutter, switching to his camera app and turning the phone to aim at him, “just a photo.”

You watch on the screen as he gives you a telling glance, holds his hand up to block the lens, and says, “Baby. Will you put that–? Hey. Watch the damn movie, now.”

“No,” you reply, avoiding his palm to snap a picture of his face. You twist in your seat until you’re at a ninety-degree angle to him, your feet in his lap, pulling a cushion to swipe at his attempts to grab the phone. “No, c’mon. We gotta fill your camera roll with more ‘n just contracting stuff.”

“Oh, do we?”

“Yeah.”

Your thumb swipes to video mode, hitting the bright red button and giggling when Joel’s deadpan face turns to watch you behind his phone.

“Quit – it,” he chuckles, swatting the phone from his face.

“You wanna watch a movie, maybe I wanna make one.”

His stare darkens. A smirk pulls at the corners of his lips. You hear it how he heard it seconds after, and you mirror his expression.

“Enough,” he tells you again, voice low, but it’s less of a telling as it is…a warning.

You put the phone down. Lock it, slide it across the couch to Joel. Silent. Giving him the choice.

His fingers lock around it, clicking the button to light the screen back up. He studies it for a second, deliberating, and then leans forward, setting it on the coffee table.

When you turn to look, the phone is sat on its side, screen reflecting back the image of the two of you; Joel, sat upright in the couch, and you, strewn out beside him. The oversized shirt you’re wearing has ridden up past your underwear, pooling on your stomach.

He’s staring at you. You can see it in his phone. You turn to look back, and he lifts his palm. Ball’s back in your court.

“Turn the TV off,” you mutter. You’re not fucking him with Singin’ in the Rain in the background.

He keeps his eyes on you, reaching for the remote. The screen cuts to black.

“Sure you wanna–?”

“C’mere,” you cut in, tossing the cushion and pulling him into you when he moves.

Somewhere between Joel leaning down on top of you and taking a grip of your hair in his hands, he presses the record button. The tiny ding sound shines a spotlight on you that lights your skin with nerves, a little bit of embarrassment, but…thrill. Excitement. Arousal.

Joel grinds his hips into yours and you both moan, your head falling back to allow him room to bruise your neck with his lips. His fingers knead roughly into the soft skin around your hips, pressing divots into your waist, sneaking their way up to cup your tits.

And then you’re turning, craning your neck to watch yourselves on his phone screen. Joel’s lips on your neck, his hands beneath your shirt.

He lifts his jaw for two seconds, coming up for breath and noticing your gaze.

“You wanna watch it, baby?”

You laugh in response, nodding when he turns your jaw to look at him.

In two seconds, you’re on your front, flipped by Joel’s hands. He takes your hips and lifts them, lining them with his own. You cross your arms and rest your chin atop them, watching in the reflected image as he slips his tee over his head and pulls your ass back to meet his stiff crotch.

Both of your heads are just cut out of shot. Yours at the left-hand side of the screen, and Joel’s at the top. The only recognizable traits are your hair and his beard. Those – and the sounds escaping your lips.

He wastes no time undressing you. Just lets your tee fall down your spine to your shoulders, pushes your panties to the side, and tugs his sweatpants low enough that he can comfortably slip inside you.

It’s sloppy. And quick. It barely lasts five minutes. As far as sex tapes go, it’s a pitiful attempt. But it’s hot – pretending that someone might fucking see it one day, see you and Joel, arguably doing what you do best.

And it’s even hotter seeing it from a different angle; feeling the stretch of him inside you, and watching it happen in real-time on his phone. Thinking of him rewatching it once the weekend’s over, his cock in his fist, shooting cum all over his belly.

Joel thrusts into you, pulling your ass back until you’re swallowing every inch of his cock. Your fists ball and you bite down on your arm to counter the shallow pain of him deep inside you, groaning with pleasure.

“Fuck,” he whispers from behind, slipping back only halfway and pushing in again.

You breathe a laugh, whispering, “Harder,” and he listens.

His hips crack against yours, a whimper calling from your lips, knees slipping further apart on the leather beneath you to accommodate the fucking size of him.

“Yeah? You want it harder, pretty girl?”

“Mhm,” you whine, bottom lip between your teeth.

He picks up the pace, pushing deeper every time your ass comes into contact with his hips. His skin slaps against yours, squeals of delight and pleasure cutting from your throat with each movement he makes.

Your hand slips between your legs, fingers run quick circles over your clit.

“Good girl,” he grits, “make yourself feel good, baby.”

You whine his name, forehead flat against the couch cushion as he fucks you, pleasure building between your legs like a tornado, tightening, tightening, tightening.

And then you’re being hauled up from the couch, flat against Joel’s body, cock still buried deep inside you. His hand replaces yours, his fingers on your clit, rubbing faster and harder than you think you can take.

He’s whispering in your ear like he always does. Saying everything he knows you like to hear. You’re a good girl, you’re his girl, you’re taking him so well. It’s desperate, and messy, and you know you’re both just racing to the finish line, aching for the relief that only you two know how to bring to one another.

And you cum, hard, fighting against his hold in a desperate attempt to fall flat against the couch. Joel keeps you upright, fingers slowing on your aching cunt as you clench and squeeze his cock, your orgasm ripping through your body.

He lets go of you, settling you on all fours in front of him before he pulls out, spilling all over your back.

You sink lower, ass still in the air, tits pressed against the cool leather of the couch as his warm cum slowly trickles down your spine.

Joel groans, a deep, guttural groan, still holding his cock between your ass cheeks as he stills, watching every rope of cum coating your back.

You catch your breath, panting mixed with laughing, and turn, rolling over and staring up at him. He leans back over, grabs the phone, and stops recording.

“Fuck…” you breathe.

“Fuck,” Joel agrees.

You laugh again, the last of your energy going into taking his shoulder and pulling him down against your body as he examines the footage. Tender kisses along his neck, dipping between his collarbones, listening to the grunts and groans from the speaker by your ear.

“Jesus, darlin’,” Joel breathes, eyes never leaving the screen. “We’re a fuckin’ mess.”

Your head tilts back with laughter, and Joel’s lips ghost across your throat. “We are not,” you finally reply, taking hold of the phone and scrolling quickly through the video. “I liked that part,” you turn it to show him your bodies held to one another by Joel’s strong arms.

“Yeah?” he asks behind a chuckle. Then he takes the phone from your hands, locks it, and tosses it to the other side of the couch, pulling you up into his arms until you’re sat on his lap, noses brushing against one another. “I liked all of it.”

“I like all of you,” you say, and he presses his lips to yours.

Joel kisses you gently, running his hands under your shirt and across your back, still covered in his release. He presses you closer to his body, almost painfully, as if the cotton of your shirt, the skin of your bodies, the cages of ribs inside are all keeping you too far apart from him.

You pull your jaw from his, run two delicate fingers across his lips.

“Don’t go fallin’ in love, cowboy,” you whisper.

----------

Joel carries you to his room just after midnight – sun-kissed, chlorine-coated, fucked-out, exhausted. He slips into bed behind you, curling his body around your frame, and, when his leg lifts to slot between yours, your hand stops it.

“No?” he asks, head lifting.

“Don’t want your thigh,” you mumble.

“How come?”

“Want you to…want somethin’ else.”

Joel understands without another word. He kisses your shoulder once, then takes your hips in both hands and pulls your ass to his front. You feel him pull the elastic of his underwear, stroke himself a couple times, and then push his tip in.

You gasp when he enters you – half-hard, slow, but even still. You’ll never get used to the feeling of him filling you, of his body connecting with yours, of him knowing and feeling you this intimately. Knowing and feeling you more intimately than anyone in your life ever has. Ever will, maybe.

When you’re full of him, he steadies. You scoot your hips back a little, and he growls in your ear.

“Careful, pretty girl.”

“Just gettin’ comfy,” you sleepily sing, almost teasingly.

He snakes one arm under your neck, cradling your head in the crook of his elbow. The other lies lazily over your waist. A satisfied sigh runs from his lips past your ear. He sounds and feels the most relaxed you’ve ever known him to be.

And you wish you could say the same.

Your eyes close over, heavy and tired, but you don’t fall asleep as quick as Joel. Something’s tugging at your heart. Something solid, that drags it down to the bottom of your stomach, and pools like ice water there. Something that nips at your lungs, stealing breath from you whenever you think too hard about it.

Something you’ve been patting down, stamping out with your foot every time the flame relights. And suddenly it feels as though the entire room just caught fire from under you.

Sheer exhaustion sends you off to sleep, with dreams of conversations and confessions you’re sure would never happen. Could never happen.

Should. Never. Happen.

----------

Warm water pours down over you, soaking your hair and chasing down your shoulders, your arms, past your breasts and over your stomach. You grab some more of the shampoo you’d stolen from Sarah’s bathroom and lather it up, covering your hair in it and drowning yourself under the water again.

Joel’s bathroom is one of three in his house; Sarah’s is slightly roomier, and the guest bathroom has the best water pressure, but you don’t care. Something inside you goes wild knowing you’re naked and washing in Joel Miller’s shower, even though you two have been fooling around for almost a month now.

You’re busy relishing over how perfect the last couple of days have been, wondering what breakfast Joel’s cooking up downstairs when the bathroom door bursts open.

“Hey,” he says, pulling on the shower door. “Out.”

“Huh?” you reply, eyes screwed shut, hair covered in soapy bubbles.

“I said get out. He’s here. Your damn dad’s here.”

Joel reaches around you and hands you a towel as he pulls you out of the cubicle and quickly wrings your hair for you. In a daze, you throw his tee over your shoulders and take his hand, following him out of the shower room and across his bedroom to the closet.

He turns you, hands tight on your shoulders, and ushers you inside.

“What’s he doin–?”

“I got a leaking pipe. He was passin’ by, dropped in to take a look. You stay here, do not make a sound, you hear?”

He closes over the slatted door gently, and you peer through the wood with narrow eyes. You hear footsteps approaching, your dad’s unmistakable chortle as the bedroom door is pushed open again and Joel shows him to the leaking pipe.

“Somewhere under there,” he mutters, hands resting on his knees to point to the space underneath his sink. “Had a look myself, tried some stuff, but it ain’t for fixin’.”

“Let’s have a look,” your dad bends down, groaning when his bad knees reach the tile. He’s almost shoulder deep under Joel’s cabinet, flashlight on, when Joel steals a glance in your direction.

He shakes his head, holding a hand up. Stay quiet.

He gives the room a quick scan, frantic eyes searching for any evidence of your being there. He swivels on the spot, twisting behind himself, noticing your cell on the nightstand at the same time you do.

Joel leans back, feet still rooted to the carpet, and fishes the phone between two fingers, slipping it into his back pocket. You breathe a sigh of relief.

“Ah!” your dad exclaims, and Joel shoots straight back around. “It’s your trap.”

“Is that right? I had a look at it.”

“Mhm. Is your eyesight failin’? Look at this, son.” Your dad’s hand reaches blindly behind him into his toolbox and grabs a wrench. “Just the joint’s loose.”

Joel grumbles in response.

You hear the squeak of metal as your dad tightens the pipe and then the clank of his wrench being thrown back into his toolbox. With maximum effort – thanks to his bad joints – he straightens back up alongside Joel, who thanks him.

“Better be the last of my issues.”

“Ha! So little faith in me, ol’ boy. Anyway. I’ll get out of your hair. That’s a mighty good smell comin’ from your kitchen, don’t wanna hold you back from enjoying it.”

“Oh, yeah. Thanks,” Joel says, and you can see him trying to usher your dad out.

But your dad, though you love him, is kinda fuckin’ annoying.

“Anyone special?”

“Huh?”

“You, cookin’? Naw. ‘s gotta be for someone good. Anyone comin’ over for a breakfast date? A…receptionist from a plant hire, perhaps?”

Joel’s eyes squint as he looks your dad up and down, taking his bottom lip under his teeth. “Nope,” he grumbles after a beat, with one shake of his head.

Your dad laughs a little, and then looks to something behind Joel’s back.

“Nice hat,” he scoffs, pointing a finger.

Joel doesn’t reply for a few seconds. You know he’s having the same realization you’re having: your cowgirl hat is hooked over the corner of his headboard.

He laughs. Nervously. Though maybe only you can hear that.

“Yeah, uh…yeah.”

“Looks a hell of a lot like a hat my daughter has.”

“Yeah?” Joel asks, sensing the same accusatory tone you do. Your forehead falls into your palm, hearing the almost pissed-off tone in which he asks, “And what would your daughter’s hat be doin’ in my bedroom?”

For fuck’s sake, Joel. Subtle, much?

“No, no,” your dad’s almost protesting, “I ain’t meanin’…” He sighs. “You know what I meant. Alright, I’m gone. I’m outta your hair.”

His boots recede down the hallway, then downstairs. Your breath doesn’t come back until you hear his car door slam shut, and the tires drive off.

When Joel pulls the closet door back, you’re still stood, towel in your hair, head in your hands. You can’t even look at him.

He doesn’t say anything like you expect him to. No, Sorry, baby, I didn’t know he was comin’. No, Come get breakfast, I’ll make it up to you.

He just wanders off back downstairs, leaving you to get dressed by yourself.

When you enter the kitchen, he’s plating up pancakes and drizzling them in syrup just the way you like. You pass him and run a hand over his shoulder blades, but he doesn’t move. Doesn’t even flinch.

When you sit at the table, he puts the plate down in front of you. Silently. Then sits across from you.

You watch his every move. He picks up his knife and fork, and begins cutting into his own breakfast. Staring down at the plate. Then out of the kitchen window to the backyard. Then back to the plate.

You give his calf a light kick under the table, and his eyes lift, but only to your plate.

“You gonna eat?” he asks. Toneless. Less emotion than he talked to your dad with.

Without a word, you pick up your cutlery and start on your own pancakes, though your appetite suddenly disappears.

He made them with banana – your favorite – but the way he’s being with you right now, they taste sour and dry. You chew your way through as much as you can until you’re staring him down, desperate for him to –

“Would you just say somethin’?”

He looks up. Finally looks you in the eye. “What?”

“Say something. Get mad. Yell at me or something, I dunno.”

“Why would I yell at you?” He plants his fork into a scrap of pancake and drags his knife alongside it.

“I mean, you seem pretty mad right now.”

“I ain’t gonna yell at you.”

“But you are mad?”

Joel doesn’t reply. He leans to one side, fishes in his back pocket for something, then slides your cell across the wooden table toward you. He nods down at it, and you click to unlock it.

Dad: Hey, I’m heading over to Joel’s to check something out for him. Wanna meet me there?

Dad: If your slumber party’s over, that is

He sent them an hour ago. If you’d fucking looked, you’d have known.

“Fuck…” you whisper.

“Yeah,” Joel mutters, jaw chewing, “fuck.”

“He didn’t– I mean, he didn’t see me, though. Right?”

“He saw your hat.”

You lean back in your chair, cutlery clattering against your plate. “He didn’t know it was mine.” A smile forms on your lips, you can’t help it, but it quickly vanishes when Joel’s tone doesn’t shift. Not even a note.

“And how do I know he ain’t drive by your car on his way?”

“Aw, c’mon, man, I’m parked, like, four streets away.”

Joel shakes his head, eyebrows arched. “You’re unbelievable,” he whispers.

“Uh, okay. Thanks. Jeez.” You fold your arms and glare out to the backyard, face beginning to heat. Eyes beginning to sting. Joel’s never like this with you. Never mad, never disappointed. Never makes you feel like a kid being told off.

“I mean, your bikini’s hangin’ up out there,” he points his fork toward the backyard, “and ain’t your bag sat in my hallway? How in the hell he didn’t see that, I have no idea.”

“But he obviously didn’t, so what’s the big deal? It’s only a black tote, it could’ve been anyone’s.”

“The big deal is that he could’ve seen it, baby! And it’s not just anyone’s, is it? It’s his daughter’s.”

And the thing is – he’s not even wrong. You can’t argue back much, ‘cause you know as well as he does that everything he’s saying is true. It’s valid. Your dad would’ve walked right by that bag – twice. The same bag he saw you hook over your shoulder right before you kissed his cheek and skipped out of his room.

This whole time, you’ve been dancing on a knife edge. Waiting to be caught. You came too close this time, and Joel tells you as much.

“Alright, well, what do you want me to do? I can’t go back in time and move the damn bag. I’m sorry, Joel. I didn’t fucking mean to let him see–”

“That’s not the point,” he interjects, which is another thing Joel rarely does.

This whole argument is something Joel – something you rarely do. The two of you. The last time you saw him this animated, this angry over something, it was Arthur Kennedy eyeing you up at the barbecue. And even that – that wasn’t directed at you. He wasn’t mad at you.

“Then what’s your point?” you ask, hands slapping down on the table.

“My point is – how many times are we gonna come within touching distance of someone finding out about this? If it wasn’t Hank almost finding us upstairs, it was your dad waltzing right in while I had you fuckin’– while I was…” He sighs, and then throws his cutlery down onto his plate.

Your head drops, thinking back to the seconds of panic between your dad opening your front door and him seeing you two, an awkward, guilty distance apart. Your shorts under the couch. Your wet on Joel’s fingers.

Joel’s kitchen table blurs in and out of focus, tears swimming across your eyes. You rapidly blink them away, but they’re forming quicker than you can rid yourself of them. When he speaks again, you can’t look at him.

“Look,” he runs an almost trembling hand through his hair, rising from the table, “I gotta go. I got some things I need to do today.”

You stand to height opposite him. “You…gotta go? Right now?”

“Yes, darlin’. I got work stuff to see to.”

“Right. Sure.” You lift your plate, turning away, and hear him sigh.

“I’ll only be a couple hours. We’ll talk more when I’m back.”

You spin then, pursing your lips. “So, I’m to wait here for you? That what you’re sayin’?”

Joel’s already picking up his keys. “No…If you wanna go, you can go. Just…if you wanna talk, then stay. We’ll talk.”

You look up at him, no more words coming to the surface to say. He moves a lock of hair from your face, and heads for the door.

Wait here for him. What a fuckin’ joke.

Still, that’s exactly what you do.

You throw yourself down on his couch, flick on his TV. Put on another episode of Love Island. Think over which boy you’d pick, then decide it’d be none of them, and wonder why the hell you’re watching it in the first place.

You wander upstairs to his room. Sift through the shirts hanging in his closet – all different variations and prints of flannel because it’s Joel fucking Miller. Pull the sleeves to your nose, breathe in the smell of him. The sweet, sandalwood smell that wraps over you like a warm blanket; comforting, calming. Fix the pillows on his bed, punch out the lumps where you lay huddled against him last night, his body against – and inside – yours.

You feel hot with anger. Frustration. A little bit of guilt. It sits heavy on your head, drips down to your stomach, swirls around and mixes with the anxiety already in there. If he’d just come home, you could argue it out. Force whatever he really wants to say out of his mouth. Say a few things of your own back to him.

You never fight. It’s the one thing – you never fight. You bicker, you toss back and forth. You piss him off and he shuts you up with his words, or his lips, or with more. But you never really fight.

It’s like something’s different. As if something’s changed, right from under your feet.

Joel comes home two hours later. Lets the door shudder closed behind him, sighs as he kicks his boots off. You’re still upstairs in his room, perched on his side of the bed reading some stupid book on Alcatraz you found in a drawer.

“Baby?” he calls, and you don’t reply. You’ve little right to be as mad as you are, but he can search for you for a minute as reparation for walking out earlier.

“Hey…” he whispers when he pushes the door open, spotting you with the book resting on your thighs. “Alcatraz, huh?”

“It ain’t that good,” you huff, slamming it shut and sliding it across the nightstand.

He breathes a Hmph, then sweeps around the bed. Like he’s scared to make a sound. Like he’s trying not to be noticed. When he reaches you, he sinks into the mattress at your feet, elbow resting on your knees.

“We gotta talk.”

Do I want to hear this? you ask him with your eyes.

He sucks a deep, unsteady breath in, and his brows furrow. He sighs again.

And you know what he’s about to say.

“This…We’ve pushed this too far, now. We’re way beyond reining this in.”

You stare at his lips. Waiting for them to offer something more. When they fall silent, your gaze trails up the shape of his nose, curving around his brows and then finally falling onto his eyes. They reveal all you need to know.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me. You’re not serious, right? Joel.”

“Kid, I…”

“No. What? Because of a bag?”

“Not because of a bag.” He looks you in the eye and shakes his head, whispers your name., then, “…because of the lying.”

“It’s never been a problem up until now.”

“It’s never been as bad as now. You ain’t been home in almost two days. Your dad has no idea where you are.”

“I’m not in danger, Joel.”

“You think he’d be happy? If he knew where you were really at right now? Knew you’d lied to his face this entire weekend?”

You sink back against the headboard, defeated. Desperately trying to find another way through what he’s saying. “What, then? What do we do? Come clean?”

He almost fucking laughs. Plays it off by pushing the air from his cheeks. “No. I don’t think we should…No.”

You shrug. “Then, tell me. Just fucking say it.”

Joel shakes his head, holds his hands out. “You’re lookin’ at me like I’m breakin’ this off outta the blue, baby. Like it’s comin’ outta left field.”

“So you’re breaking it off?”

“No, I’m– It’s not– I don’t…” He sighs, fingers pressing into his eyes.

You stand up, towering over him, silhouetted by the window behind you. “Just – fucking – say it. End it. I’ll go.”

“That’s not what I’m tryna do, kid.”

“What are you tryna do, then? There are two of us in this, Joel. You’ve been lying just as much as I have.”

“You don’t think I know that?” he hisses, standing up until you’re chest to chest, inches apart from one another. “Jesus, kid. I’m checking myself every fuckin’ conversation I have with your dad. Makin’ sure nothin’ I say will clue him in. Makin’ sure I don’t accidentally let slip what the hell’s been goin’ on!”

“I’ve been doin’ the same!” you yell back. “It ain’t just you, Joel, but that doesn’t seem to mean nothin’ to you!”

“Mean nothin’,” he repeats with a laugh, turning away and running his hands through his hair. “You don’t mean nothin’ to me? That what you think?”

“What else am I supposed to take from this, asshole? That you’re fuckin’ in love with me?”

He falls silent. His lips pull into a frown. He backs off.

Downstairs, his phone starts ringing. He glances to the doorway, shifts between his feet.

“You don’t get to do this, you know,” your voice trembles, “you don’t get to pull me in and then just drop me when it becomes inconvenient. Once you’re done with me.”

“Don’t.” Joel’s voice cuts like glass. “Don’t.”

You step back. Stare him down, try to make him say something. Try to make him do something. Your hands are on his biceps, eyes boring into his, swelling with tears you’re trying desperately to hold back.

Nothing. Not a word.

“I can’t read your mind anymore…” you whisper.

Joel takes a deep breath, his eyes flicker across your lips just for a second. He looks sad, eyes glassy, lines around his eyes where his eyebrows meet. But they tell you nothing.

His phone’s still ringing out, echoing through the silent house like an alarm bell.

You look at him blankly now. “Phone’s ringin’, Joel.”

He says nothing back, just looks at you from under his low brows.

You back out of his bedroom, shaking your head and stumbling a little over thin air. You’re staring at each other; you, trying to work out who the man is standing in front of you, and Joel, trying to plead with you to hear him out.

When you reach the threshold, you turn as if to run.

“Darlin’, come back. Hey.”

He follows you into the hallway and you feel his hand around your wrist. You whip it to your chest and turn to face him.

“Darlin’? Not your darlin’ anymore, am I? ’m just some girl you were fucking for a month.”

“C’mon, now, you know that’s not true.”

You lead downstairs, shoes thudding as you go. Joel’s right behind you, trying any combination of words to slow you down, make you look at him, stop for five seconds.

When you reach the bottom of the stairs, your arm swoops down to grab your bag, and as you straighten up, Joel’s ringtone cuts and his machine beeps.

“Hey, Joel,” a woman’s voice fills the space between you both. Your head whips around to stare at the machine.

“It’s Lois. I was just callin’ to…to check in. It was really nice seein’ you today. Give me a call when you can, okay?”

The voicemail cuts and the two of you are plunged back into silence. Silence, save for the heaving of your breath. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your heart ready to burst through it. You haven’t taken your eyes off of the machine, red light blinking menacingly.

Joel lifts his hands. “That is not…It’s not what it sounds like…” he says, slowly, calmly. Quiet. Like you’ve never heard him speak before. Not We’re about to be caught quiet. Not even Quit arguin’ back quiet.

This is desperate quiet. And desperate’s not something you’ve ever heard pass Joel’s lips.

Your whole body is shaking, and you’re not sure whether it’s from adrenaline, or fear, or hurt, or pain. It takes most of the life inside you just for your lungs to open and close. You can’t fucking look at him. You can’t – fuck, you can’t even look in his direction.

You turn slowly toward the front door. You unlock it in a daze, and pull on the handle. The heat from outside hits you like you’ve opened an oven door.

“Baby…” Joel whispers.

“I’ll see you ‘round, Joel.”

----------

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