#big ocean x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lovedaruma · 3 months

Text

their spot ♥︎

sukuna x princess! reader

ー in which you and sukuna meet when he unintentionally saves you and you continue to meet him everyday in the same spot.

fem! reader, heian era, grumpy x sunshine, reader is innocent and playful, fluff + short smut

"Your Highness! Please don't go too far!" you hear your personal maid shout from the distance as you continue to run, laughing and waving her goodbye.

Any other princess wouldn't be allowed to go into the wilderness on her own, but as for Y/N, her family could not care less if she went missing the next morning.

You have already wandered through so many paths, yet there was still more to explore. You take a new route and stumble on an open area, seeing a hill in the distance and couldn't help but gawk at the beautiful area.

You cheerfully run towards the hill, taking a few breaths once you reached the top. From this height, you could see the beautiful view of the ocean, together with the breathtaking sunset. "Oh my..."

The sun continued to set as you watched from underneath the tree, sitting in a comfortable position. The comforting sounds of nature soon make you drift of to sleep.

A growl from the distance awakes you from your slumber. You jolt awake to see that the moon was already up in the sky. "Gosh, how many hours have passed?"

The sound of your voice summons another growl and you start to get nervous. You turn around and look down at the hill and see a big wolf that was twice your size, bright red eyes trying to scare you. However, you were too distracted at the sight of the furry animal.

"Oh my, It's a wolfy! Come boy, come!" you wave your hand, beckoning the wolf to come closer. It hesitates but slowly starts to approach you. "Here boy... I'm nice, I swear!"

The wolf is now in front of you sniffing your leg, you bring your hand to his neck and started scratching. "Aren't you a cutie~ I'm gonna name you-"

Your words were cut off as you watch the wolf get sliced in half, the blood splattering on your kimono.

"Tch."

A voice was heard from behind the wolf, you see a handsome man with four arms and eyes, marks which seemed like tattoos all over his body.

"Hey~ Why did you kill the wolfy?" you whined.

"Shut up, Human. What are you doing here?"

". . ."

He furrows his brows and growls, "Answer."

"But you said shut up." you smile playfully, clearly teasing him.

"You... Do you know who you're talking to?" He slowly approaches you.

He was trying to intimidate you with this slow steps but was shocked to see you stand up and walk over to him instead.

"Well, No! You haven't introduced yourself yet. I'm Y/N. What's your name?" you reach out your hand as you introduce yourself.

". . ."

You watch as his four eyes stare at you, trying to figure you out. You smile up at him and put your hand down.

"Well you don't have to tell me if you don't want to! I still would like to know why you killed the cute wolf though..." you pout as you look over at the furry body in pieces.

"You foolish woman. That wolf was going to make you its dinner." he glares at you, "And this area here is mine. I slaughter everything and everyone that trespasses."

He raises one of his hands to kill you in one swoop, but stops as you perk up and grab one of his hands in joy.

"Oh, so you saved me?! Thank you, kind stranger." you give his hand a small squeeze to show your appreciation.

He stares at both of your hands together for a few seconds before he smacks your hand away, "Tch, How dare you touch me."

You pout as you rub your wrist, "Oh, my apologies . It was bad manners of me to grab you without asking. I'll do that next time!"

"Hah, next time?" He chuckled pure evil, "There will be no next time. Don't think you're coming out of here alive, human."

"That can't be, I have to repay you! You saved me, after all... Even though I don't have much influence, I'm still a princess!"

"Princess? Stop lying woman. The only child I know of royalty here is a prince."

"Yeah~ That's my brother!" you smile, unbothered that people weren't aware that there was a princess in the first place. "And I have a name, you know."

A few seconds of silence pass, him just staring at you. He scoffs and turns to walk away. "Leave."

You were about to retort back but realized how far in the night it is so you stand up and call out to him, "Hey~ I'll be back here tomorrow okay?"

You laugh as you see him turn his head to scowl at you.

The next day soon arrives and you're back at the same spot on the beautiful hill. You sit down under a tree and bask in the view.

The silence was interrupted by a familiar voice. "You have a death wish, huh?"

"Hey there! Come, sit!" you giggle and pat the spot next to him.

"Tch, this is where I usually sit, woman." He scoffs as he sits down, not showing he was curious at the human interacting with him.

"So... I heard a few guards talking about a certain king of the curses...." you side-eye him, smiling playfully. "Hehe, what even is your name?"

"Ryomen Sukuna. Remember the name of the one who's gonna kill you." He smirks.

"Then why haven't you killed me yet?" you tilt your head.

"I'll have my fun with you for now. You're quite the peculiar human."

"Oh, tell me in advance when you're gonna kill me then, Sukuna!"

"You..." he glares, "Do you not value your life?"

"Meh, not really... No one would miss me anyway." I frown, but a smile quickly replaces it, "So I've decided to just live to the fullest. If I die today, at least I had fun yesterday~"

Sukuna stays silent as he watches you cheerfully talk about death with his brows furrowed. You hum a tune while enjoying the comfortable silence for a few minutes and then turn to look at him.

Your lips part when you continue to stare at him, his features complimenting his handsome face. Sukuna, for some reason, found it hard not to look back at your stare. After a while, he turned his head to look back into your eyes.

You flinch as his eyes look into yours. Your cheeks tint at his intimidating state and you give him a shy smile.

"So... um... what's... your favorite color...?"

Silence fills the air at the random question, and your cheeks tint even more. You let out a small laugh at your own embarrassment.

Sukuna takes a peek at the warm flush of your cheeks and lets out a huff, "Red."

You whip your head to him and flash a bright smile, "That really suits you! Mine is white hehe~"

". . ."

"So... what do you like to ea-"

"Shut up."

You zip your lips shut and sit more comfortably next to him. The silence was so oddly comforting that you drifted off to sleep. Your head slowly leaning to to direction Sukuna was sitting.

His shoulder was too high for your small figure, so your head rested on the side of his arm. Sukuna looked down, careful not to move his arm. "Tch, unbelievable."

Although he looked annoyed, he didn't move his arm for the rest of his time there.

You wake up and your eyes slowly open. The sun in the horizon has just set and the moon is starting to peak into the sky. Your head lifts up from an... arm?

"Wha..." you let out a yawn.

You hear a scoff, "Why did you sleep for so long?"

"S-Sukuna?!"

You put the pieces together and realize that Sukuna let you sleep on his arm until you woke up. The thought of that making your cheeks warm.

"Sukuna... that's so sweet of you!" you show a downturned smile to express how grateful you were.

He scowls at you and in a blink, he disappears.

"He didn't even let me say bye..."

You arrive at the same spot under the tree on the hill. Surprisingly, you see Sukuna already there.

"You're here!~"

He opens two eyes to see your figure running towards him. He sighs and shuts his eyes again, slowly getting used to his human's presence.

You stop right in front of him, admiring his face once more, being less embarrassed now that his eyes were shut. Soon, you give into your temptation.

"Sukuna..."

He opens an eye.

"Can I touch you now? I asked first this time!" you clasp your hands and interwine your fingers to say please.

He scoffs and shuts the eye. You frown letting out a small 'Hmp' of sulk.

"I didn't say no."

You gasp in excitement and reach out your hands to his face. Your fingertips gently touch his face. You didn't notice the subtle flinch Sukuna did.

Your fingers trace the marks on his face. He exhales from his nose, the air hitting your skin making you feel warm inside. You slowly lift your thumbs to caress the area next to his bottom eyes, the rest of your fingers at the back of his ear. You couldn't help but hum a small 'woah~' in admiration.

"Your eyes are beautiful." Flustered at your own words, your cheeks tint in embarrassment.

His eyes open, both of you staring into each other. He glares at you and whips his head to the side, your hands still on his face. "How absurd."

"It's true..." You let out a chuckle and kneel down next to him. This time, you trace the marks on his arms.

What you didn't notice earlier was how Sukuna's cheeks warmed up at your compliment, with the same grumpy face. He shook his head and sighed, focusing on the feeling of your skin on his.

The rest of the day you just held onto his hand tracing lines and giving light massages while bringing up small conversation topics. He gave small answers, but you were overjoyed at your interactions.

Two weeks have gone by since then. As the days continued, Sukuna began to warm up more to you, talking to you in longer sentences and not telling you to shut up anymore. You were currently on your way to meet him again. Meanwhile, Sukuna was starting to realize his feelings for you.

"Princess Y/N, Please! Finish your food before you go!" The maid sighs as she watches you run away. She looks over at the unfinished plate, wondering what in the wilderness is so interesting to her highness.

As she takes a closer look in the plate, she gasps. "Oh my heavens! T-This is... The Princess is allergic to this!"

Without a care in the world, you skip towards Sukuna's spot, excited to meet your king of the curses.

"I'm here!"

Insted of sitting in his usual spot, he was standing near the cliff, looking at the horizon.

"Sukuna! you admiring the view?"

He doesn't reply and you look at his back, confused. The dark clouds in the sky let out a thunder.

"How dare you."

"W-What?"

He turns around and scowls, "How dare you make me feel- Ugh."

"Huh?" you say confused, raindrops start dropping on both of you.

In a flash, he disappears from where he was standing and was now in front of you. His hand swiftly attacks for your neck but he quickly stops and is an inch away from your skin.

You flinch, but don't move. you give him a chuckle.

"Sukuna... I told you in advance to tell me first before you kill me." you laugh.

He growls in frustration and puts his hands down. "Ugh..."

"But... As strange as it may seem, the time I spent with you was the happiest I've ever been. Thank you for showing me kindness, even in your own way. Farewell, Sukuna. I will never forget you!"

You stand on your tip toes and met your lips with his. It was just a gentle peck, but it sent shivers down her spine.

"Idiot."

As you pull away, content, you couldn't bring yourself to look him in the eyes. 'I wonder what face he's making right now', the thought making you smile. You grab the same hands that tried to attack you earlier and wrapped them around your neck.

"Huh?" you look up at him confused, only to be more confused as you analyzed his face.

'He looks... troubled? I'm not so sure'

He pulls his hands away from your neck and sighs. He grabs you arms and rests his head on the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. "What kind of sick curse is this..."

". . . Sukuna?"

Although he wasn't exactly hugging you, you wrap your arms around him and hug back. The rain hitting the both of you as you warm up in each other's arms.

". . . I'm confused, are you still killing me or not?"

". . . Pft."

You gawk as you hear Sukuna let out a chuckle. Seeing his lips turn up was a better view than the horizon behind them.

You look up at him and smile, "Hehe, you still haven't answered m-"

The moment was interrupted when you cough out blood. A sudden burning sensation you feel in your chest. You let go of him to hold your chest in pain, your body slouching as you groan.

"D-Damn...I-I shouldn't have-ugh... ate those."

"Y/N?!"

The sound of his name flow out of his voice made your heart flutter but the pain overpowers that.

"Agh-" You drop to the floor, "Don't w-worry, these are just allergies."

He gets on his knees and uses his reverse cursed technique to heal you from your suffering. The pain was too much for you to handle though, and you pass out in his arms.

You jolt awake in your room, looking around confused.

"Sukuna?"

You call out for him but nothing happens. His scent still lingering in the room so you're sure he tucked you back into bed.

You smile as your heart flutters, going back to sleep.

"Y-Your Highness! Are you sure you're okay?" your maid stutters as she hands you your breakfast the next morning.

"Yes yes~ Don't worry about lil' old me!"

You quickly finish your breakfast, wanting to see him as soon as possible. You quickly run and you arrive at the spot in no time and you see him there.

You don't even call out to him, you just run towards his sitting figure, bend over, and wrap your arms around his neck.

He jolts in surprise but immediately calms down as he takes a whiff of your hair.

"Sukuna, you saved me twice already. Thank you for yesterday." you smile, embarrassed to make eye contact with him.

He places a hand on your back to push your body into his. Now, you're straddling his lap and you stay in position.

You fidget your hands, "Ugh~ It's kinda awkward now after I did a whole farewell speech yesterday..." you whine as you recall the events yesterday.

"Yeah, you're farewell kiss too."

You blush and groan into his shoulder, clenching your fists in his robe in embarrassment.

"Hah, is the princess embarrassed? Look at me."

As if it was a spell, you comply immediately and shyly pull away to look at him.

He grabs your chin and pulls your face closer.

"You have to take responsibility for what you did yesterday." He smirks.

"R-Responsibility?!" you squeak.

"Don't think I'll be satisfied with a mere kiss, Princess."

He smashes his lips onto yours. Unlike the sweet and short peck, this was hot and passionate. His upper arms land on your waist and slides the up and down the side of your body.

You feel his tongue enter your mouth and you shift your hips to adjust your position, making you grind on his crotch. The friction making you both groan in pleasure, all of his blood rushing to the length under his robe.

"S-Sukuna." you couldn't help but whine his name in the middle of your tongues dancing. Hearing his name turns him on even more, and his hands go from your hips to sliding inside your kimono to grab hold of your breasts.

You let out a moan at his touch on your bare chest. His bottom arms sliding up your kimono underneath you, his hands traveling up to grope both cheeks of your ass. Wanting to touch him, your hands go down to his chest, sliding inside his robe to touch explore your hands around his bare chest and abs. Your touch making Sukuna groan and start grinding his hips underneath yours, you moan in his lips and grind on him as well.

His hands slide off your kimono, leaving you in your undergarments. The cool air hitting your skin, but you couldn't feel it from the heat of the intimate moment. His bottom hands start to tug on your panties and he whispers into your lips.

"You think you can handle me, Princess?"

You moan in confirmation, sliding off the top part of his robe and continuing to grind on him. He hisses in pleasure and rips off your panties and throw them to the side.

"Ah!" you squeak in embarrassment, pulling away and looking down at yourself, but what caught your eye is the visible bulge twitching underneath the fabric of his robe. You curiously grope it, causing a moan to slip off his mouth, and snatches your hand away.

"Later."

He grabs both of your wrists and pushes you to the clean grass. He looks up and down your naked body and smirks, feeling another twitch from his cock. His eyes landed on your pussy, already soaking wet.

His eyes darkens and he grins, ready to devour you. He brings a hand to your folds and run his fingers along the wetness dripping down your thighs. "How can you be this wet already?" he chuckles and inserts a finger inside, his other hands playing with your breasts.

The sensation making you moan in pleasure, the back of your hand covering your mouth in embarrassment. The moans continue when he starts thrusting the finger in a moderate motion. After a few seconds of adjusting, he shoves another finger in.

The sounds of his fingers fucking your wet pussy fill the air. He feels your walls clench and sees your body start to arch. He sees the way you were making a mess already just with his fingers. Your moans get whinier and he loses it.

He grunts and shoves the robe of his body and your eyes widen. You stare at his two cocks twitching in the air, gulping at its huge size. "S-Sukuna..."

"You want to stop?" you whine and shook your head immediately, "That's what I thought. Now come here, princess."

Not giving you enough time to process, he picks you up and puts him in the stradling position you were earlier in, the tip of his cock goes in and he thrusts inside.

"Ngh- Ah~ S-Sukuna." He grunts in reply, feeling your pussy clench in his hard cock.

"Fuck, princess."

The pleasure was nothing you ever felt before. You look down and see his other cock twitching against your stomach. You reach your hand to grab his length which causes his head to roll back in pleasure and let out a deep moan.

You pump his cock, while adjusting to the other cock that was already inside you. "Prince- Agh, Shit." Your hand going faster and faster, the sounds of his groans making your walls clench, making him groan even louder.

He grabs your hand to stop you. "I can't hold it anymore. I'm gonna destroy this tight little pussy, yeah?"

He grabs your hips and starts bouncing you up and down, his cock thrusting inside of you without mercy.

"Ah... Suku- Agh~" You were drowning in pleasure, eyes rolling back as you listen to the sounds of your wetness and both of your skins slapping against each other.

He was thrusting into you mercilessly, your mewls just making his climax come closer. He feels your walls clench uncontrollably and he moans your name.

"Y/N. Fuck- I'm going crazy" he huffs, acting like an animal in heat.

He pushes you back into the soft grass into a new position, bringing your knees to your chest, his cock thrusting into you sloppily. A visible bump in your belly when he thrusts inside. Two hands behind your knees. One hand rubbing your clit. One hand pumping his other cock.

"Agh~ T-There... Sukuna-"

He hits a certain spot causing your body to twitch and making your eyes water up from the pleasure.

Sukuna pounds faster into your pussy, his precum smeared along your soaked walls. You were letting him use your body and it felt so good.

You feel something building up inside of you, and you whine. "Ah- wait! Sukuna~ I- I-" you whine in pleasure as your body arches, your juices spilling into his cock.

"That's right, princess. Let it out." he coos into your ear. "My turn."

You gasp for air as he thrusts again into your sensitive pussy, making your mewl echo into the air. Your juices increase the sound of the wetness as he slaps his skin into yours, the mix of your arousals filling the air.

"Fuck- I should fill you up, huh? Breed my precious princess?"

"Agh- P-Please!~ I-"

He moans as he shoots his load into you and fill up your pussy, having both of your juices mixed up. His other cock also shooting cum onto your stomach. Your body twitches at the feeling of his seed inside you, grabbing both of his arms for support. He sighs in pleasure and pulls out, watching as the juices ooze out of your aching pussy.

"You did so good, Princess." is the last thing you hear before you pass out.

You flutter your eyes open to see a room that wasn't yours. Sukuna lying down next to you in bed. You look down on your clothed body to see you were cleaned up and well taken care of after.

"Sukuna..." you mutter, eyes still droopy "I can't move my legs~"

"Heh, you're gonna get used to it."

"Hm?" You tilt your head.

"You're mine now. This is the consequence of your actions, right? You can't escape now." He smirks as he picks you up and puts you on top of him.

You stare at him in shock then laugh, "Now why would I dare leave my king, he'll get lonely without me~"

You plant a sweet kiss on his lips and pull away to see a smile on his face. His smile making you feel warm inside as your cheeks tint. You giggle and snuggle into his arms and you enjoy each other's warm, and will continue to enjoy each other's presence in the future.

#sukuna #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna fluff #sukuna smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #heian era

5K notes · View notes

diejager · 6 months

Text

Saccharine and Monstrosity pt.1

Pairing: Eldritch Horror!König x mermaid!reader

Cw: kidnapping, manipulation, DARK FIC, trap, luring, mention of breeding kink, protective König, mention of partial nudity, hunting, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 4K

I got inspired by @konigsblog ‘s post.

You enjoyed the sun as much as any other betta fish mermaid, laying on the warm rocks and bathing under the bright, yellow sun. You lived in a school of fish that moved near the shores of a tropical island a few generations before, building houses under the coral reef and rocks where newly placed branches would grow and work as a natural shield. The world you lived in - the part of the ocean you called your home - was bright and colourful, the shallow waters clear and gleaming under the warming sun.

You liked all things bright and colourful, either big or small, you decorated your part of the cave with things you found while swimming around your territory. Be it a golden coin shining on the ocean floor, or a shard of coloured glass, you picked it all up and stuck it around your room. Sometimes, you found pretty things near the limits of your home, and other times, you ventured closer to the edge of the darkness when something shiny caught your attention.

Over the ridge of sand that drew the start of the darkness, that deep and menacing slope down to the deepest part of your ocean, where darker, meaner and cruel beings born of cruelty and madness lived. It was somewhere all mers were warned of, to stay far away from the darkness and never stray from the light that fed and protected you. You thrived in the light, your body absorbing the warmth from the sun that made your scales vibrant and feeding from the fauna and flora that lived beside you: seaweeds and small fishes.

Your kind grew up with stories of horrifying monsters and cruel creatures that lived in that abyss, lingering near the shallow to catch a pretty, little mer for their hoard. Whatever became of the taken was still unknown, once a mer was taken by One, no one would hear from them from then on. Your parents had warned you about straying too close from the shallow, daring fate when you swam over the ridge to collect those pretty gems you fancied so much.

“Don’t worry,” you’d grin at her, fins flickering behind you. “I’m a fast swimmer, mom!”

You were a fast swimmer, slipping between rocks and corals, hands cradling your little shells while you fled from the dark, twisting over the ridge and vanishing between the corals. That’s what you did most days, picking up people’s trash to make it your treasure, fingers cleaning the sand off the holes and crevasses before sticking them to your walls. You also tinkered with metal creations you found, a silver fork or a rusted-looking instrument.

Granted, you joined in hunts, catching sardines and herrings, claws digging into its scaled bodies and teeth ripping into its flesh, the only other taste being sea salt, or bathed under the sun, but you preferred scavenging for loot. Although mers hunted alone, most found it easier to do it in groups, swarming shoals of fish and catching in a group of a dozen at a time for your little colony. So when you were fed and rested, you were back out, treading the line between the shallow and the abyss.

You swam slowly, head turning left and right for anything that would catch your attention, for that small glint hidden under a thin veil of sand or a long metallic object sticking out from the ground. You already had a few things in your arms, a few shells, human objects thrown overboard or floated into the sea, and small treasures: white pearls. You picked things up from both sides, mind in a comfortable and pleasant space, prideful of your catch so far that you were oblivious of the eyes following your colourful body.

His pale eyes wandered over your puffy cheeks and sweet lips, those squinted eyes in mirth as you searched for more. He went down the curve of your shoulders and the swell of your breasts, perky nipples covered by pretty shells, over your soft stomach and that bright, colourful tail of yours that first caught his attention. Every scale glistened under the sun, reflecting the light on the sand while you swam, your fins curving with the twist of your tail.

You were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, an angel collecting treasure, just like he did. He saw the batch in your arms, clutched between your breasts when you dove to pick something up on his side. You were as adorable and innocent as you were pretty, your action oblivious of his predatory eyes, dipping into his territory without fear of retribution on his part. He liked that bold and daring attitude of yours, fitting for someone so courageously bright and flashing your bold colours to him.

If he were to drop something closer to him, would you still swim towards it or ignore it for something closer to the ridge? If he hid until you were close enough, would he be able to wrap his limb around you? To feel your soft skin and coarse scales under his slimy arm. He was glad he decided to hunt today, searching for both prey - mer or fish, he isn’t picky about what he ate - and treasure. Hidden under a couple of tentacles, he dropped a golden coin a few feet away from him, his veil and the darkness helping him hide from your sight.

His heart soared when he saw your eyes widen, a smile curling at the corners of your lips when you saw his little coin, diving towards him with enthusiasm. You were so close to him, hand stretching to grab the object with small, clawed fingers. When you held it in your hand, appraising it, he felt pride bubble in his chest, rising to his mind as he took this occasion to get his arm around you. You flinched when he wrapped the tip of his tentacle around your tail, squirming around in terror. In a panicked struggle to escape him, you dropped everything you’d collected and fled from him with a cry.

He watched you swim away from him through saddened eyes, hearing the thudding from the things you dropped, even the coin he gifted you. His eyes never left your fleeing body until you jumped over the edge, your tail the last thing he saw in that moment of self-deprivation and sadness. He hoped you’d come back, forgetting the fear of his sudden attention and daring fate once more.

He came the next day and the day after that, but you weren’t there, your precious smile and happy eyes were a memory in his mind, a fleeting moment in his gloomy world. He came back every day, hiding in the darkness, on the line between pitch darkness and light shading. He wished you were there every day, his eyes bleeding with optimism and hope for a single smidgen of bright colours.

He hadn’t seen you in the following week. His shoulders slumped and caved into himself in sadness every time he came by, his blue eyes dulling bit by bit, that hopeful thinking drowning under realistic thinking and a pessimistic mind. Then he caught a glimpse of colour against the white sand. Before long, he saw arms filled with shiny items, trailing nearer to your side than his, but still chasing for treasures.

If he wanted to approach you, to touch your soft-looking skin and run his arms over your scaled tail, he’d have to find a way to lure you in. He watched you the first few days, his tentacles curling on itself and burying himself in the sand, the hundreds of suckers searching for buried treasures to leave for you. When you turned your back to him, his unwinding arm left the things he found near the ridge for you to find and take. Little gifts for you, courting gifts he left and gifted you in an attempt to woo you.

You were skittish and fleeing but took all his gifts with shaky smiles and grateful eyes, you knew he gave them to you. Of course, you did, you were his brave and smart little mermaid, approaching his offerings with apprehension - he felt hurt you feared and got nervous around him, but he understood you, his kind ate yours - and scanned the sand around you for any danger before crossing the line. He felt giddy when you added them to your stack, his mind-blowing with dreams and thoughts of you decorating your little cave with the things he gave you. On the ceiling, against the wall and on the ground or surfaces, you would use the things he gave you for your home.

It sent him up the walls of his caves with joy and excitement, his limbs curling to rearrange his home to prepare for you, to accommodate your arrival to his big, lonely home.

It took a week or two - or so he thought, his perception of time was and had always been warped in some way - before you became comfortable enough to approach him, to let him curl his slimy tentacle around your tail and up your body. He could finally feel you and it made him ecstatic - he was over the moon every time he got to touch you. Little pokes, fleeting squeezes and feathery bites from his suckers on your flesh, all things he let himself taste before your coupling. A coupling between the prettiest and the cruellest beings in the ocean would unwind the seams that made your worlds, pulling the string that separated the beauty and the beast in this cursed universe.

Granted, you hesitated to cross into the pitch darkness of the abyss, dancing just a few inches from his abode with an armful of trinkets from König. Your slow and steady breath, words you blessed him with when you muttered to him, calling out to know if he was there and your grateful grin were a common, yet welcome sight in his daily swim. While a bit reluctant to join him on the other side, you eventually swam across, your eyes melting into the black before you. You were unseeing as much as you were blind, if not for the guiding palm of the Eldritch creature that you befriended and the shine of treasure you saw around him.

You wished you could see anything but the gleam of treasure and the black mist of the abyss, your hand wandered over his, searching for his body, to feel the one who’s been gifting you treasures. Your fingers trailed upwards, feeling the tightness of his muscles, the curves and hardness of his arms were sinful. You truly wished you could see him at this moment, but you kept at your advance, clawed fingers moving slowly with unbridled curiosity. When you reached his broad shoulders and well-pronounced chest, it rumbled, a purr coming from König. Its deep sound shook you with need, your tail enthusiastically moving back and forth as you listened to him.

“Are you happy, Schatz?”

His voice was even better than his soft purrs, in a way that made you want to melt into his arms and never bother moving if he kept talking to you, the sound of the creature that gave you gifts and affection. König’s spine-chilling voice seemed like a mix of many voices, both soft and raspy, and both deep and smooth, but it was something you enjoyed, that you found yourself liking a bit too much.

“Yes,” you breathed, eyes travelling skyward, towards the source of his voice.

Your breath caught in your throat, choking a gasp at the prettiest blues you’d seen staring down at you. They were majestic, gem-like with a pretty sheen that made them glow like a beacon of light. You wondered why you’d never seen them, seeing how bright his eyes were. They lit up his face, or the veil he wore over his face, showing the pale streak of makeshift tears down the incision he made for his eyes. You shamelessly admired him, unbothered by the lost puppy-like stare you gave him in your glowing beauty.

You’d crossed a threshold, where a creature of light never dared to cross, stepping into the arms of an Old One and embracing their madness. Although you were oblivious to his intentions, the loud proclamation of his courting rituals and attempts of crying out his love - the Old One’s rituals and cultures were much of a mystery to those who didn’t study them, much of a taboo for anyone outside of delusion and greed - he hadn’t refrained from his deliberate show that would be nearly shameful and embarrassing to others of his kind.

Some wouldn’t bother with such frivolous acts: confessions from the deepest part of their dark soul, proclamation of love and undying adoration, or having to scavenge for gifts - offerings - to the subject of their attention. His kind took and took, reaching for that small glimmer of hope and beauty and corrupted it, bending it to their liking and building something from the ashes. It wouldn’t - would never - be the same as they were before, but that was how the Old Ones liked it: control, corruption, ruin, madness and power.

König wouldn’t do that, he wanted to cherish you, add to what you were and watch it bloom like those bioluminescent creatures in the abyss; even against his creator’s wishes. He’ll put you on the highest pedestal he has, eternally imprinting the image of you as his most precious treasure into his mind. You’ll be a thing of miracles, a thing of blessings, a thing of new beginnings. He wanted all and everything with you, but he’d have to take it slow, to coax you into this redundant pattern that ensured your trust and comfort and have you follow him of your own volition.

He doesn’t mind waiting, he’s had hundreds of years of sitting and waiting, patience was a virtue he grew to learn, to hold in his giant palm and clutch like a gift from the ever-growing, chaotic universe. He can wait and plan, so he will, König will lay down his plan and wait until he can bring it to reality.

Wait he did, for you to grow comfortable enough to follow him deeper and let him pull you in from your side. It took you a month of back and forth, squirming around your infatuation with König and exchanging trinkets, words and fleeting kisses with him. He adored your little giggles when he traced your sides with a bolt tentacle, curling under your plush tits and the tip sliding under your strap. He loved the pretty shells you gave him, cleaned from sand and any barnacles, it showed him how much time you spent on it for him. His heart bloomed and swelled to impossible heights when you pecked his lips, giving him shy and gentle kisses that he grew addicted to.

You were so sweet and so soft, your lips the taste of heaven for a creature of madness. Your hands were gentle like a cool balm over a burn, soothing his wild thoughts. Your little gifts for him - reciprocating his affection - were currently the most important things in his cave, a sign of your love and devotion. It made him wonder what would you let him do once you gave yourself to him. Would you succumb to the everlasting pleasures he could give you, or would you demand to help him take care of his own in a mutual haze? He couldn’t help himself, letting his chaotic mind conjure the most absurd and erotic dreams, his body vibrating with excitement; and now, at the peak of your trust in him, he watched his plan - a well-placed trap - come to fruition.

“Come, Schatz,” he beckoned you forward, his burly arm stretching to coax you to follow him, holding out his open palm to you. “I have something I want to show you. Pretty things.”

Without a thought, to question his intentions or to ask why he couldn’t have bought them for you like he usually did, you took his hand and let his fingers curl over yours, intertwining your smaller digits to his as he pulled you to his chest. His embrace was as safe and pleasant as the last one - yesterday - and caused a flurry of emotions to erupt in your chest, he was warm in the cool darkness, loving in all the ways you could think. You could close your eyes and imagine a smile rippling across his face with joyfully squinted eyes peering down at you.

Held against his chest, his other arm wrapped around your waist with a firm squeeze of his hand where your skin turned to scales. He whispered sweet promises, words of encouragement to see the way to his home and excited explanations of what awaited you. Pretty things, he said, you knew what he meant - at least you think you did - you shared much in common, and pretty things were something you both agreed on: shiny metals, interesting trinkets, shimmering shells or finely-minted coins. All things humans valued before throwing away; one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.

How unfortunate that you couldn’t see in the dark, yet how fortunate you wouldn’t know the way back, it was something he relied on heavily to keep you, if you didn’t know how to navigate in this utter blindness, there were no risks of you trying to escape his caring hand. You were smart, you wouldn’t simply venture off without knowing where to go and how to see, especially with how vast his territory was and how dangerous it was. He shared his home with other simple-minded animals, sharks, fishes, eels and any other abyssal creature that lived and depended on the dark to live.

Your innocent curiosity about the things he deemed pretty enough to hoard made his heartbeat, that addicting feeling he got from touching you, kissing you and speaking to you. Even if the deeper he went, the colder it became, you never once complained, your wide eyes and grinning face were the only thing you gave him. He was truly relieved to know that you were patient and understanding of his home, not one hiss or pout while you shook and clung to him, depending on him for warmth. He liked that, to see you rely on him so much.

“We’re here, mein Liebling,” he hushed, cradling your face as he dove down, through the entrance of his cave. He shielded your fragile body with his many arms, protecting you from the rush of water current flowing against him. He chose this one to build his nest, using the strong current as a natural barrier against weaker creatures.

When the waters calmed to a still, he loosened his hold on you, unravelling his arms to let you explore the many passages and alcoves in his home. To accommodate you, he strung up bioluminescent flora, using them as light to find your way around, with silken algae over a few rocks to mimic the beds mers slept in and a few other things that he thought you’d need: a mirror, a few floating plants to add to its mystical beauty and clusters of soft materials in nearly every room.

He let you wander, your tail flapping back and forth to lead you down the long hall and explore the many rooms. He used a room to sleep, one as a pantry and storage, and another one to hold his hoard, but he had a lot of empty and unused space, more than enough for you and your children to thrive. He wanted to let you roam at your own pace, but he had something to show you, something he was proud of making.

He pulled you from your little cloud of joy, wrapping an arm around you, his sticky suckers latching onto you as he coaxed you his way. Only then had you taken the time to admire König under blue light, cheeks warm with a burning flush and doe-like eyes staring at the naked expense of his hard abdomen, stomach sculpted to perfection that had Adonis shying away. His arms were big and round, muscles straining the scarred skin with delicious appeal.

Downwards, following the sharp dip of his navel, were dozens of dark tentacles lined with round, pulsing suckers. Like an octopus, they were covered in a slimy sheen, every limb flexible and able to move independently. The lower ones were thick and soft, acting as a cover for whatever he hid beneath them, while some were thinner, whose source came from under his veil. Those, however, were a mix of normal and horrific tentacles, some had eyes replacing the usual suckers, tinted in the same colour as his irises, that glowing, pale blue.

It made your body heat up, fingers tingling with nerves - or was it? When faced with something you found appealing, it’d be natural to feel flustered, no? König thought so, that’s how he spent the first days reacting to you, heating up to a bothersome flush to everything you did. He watched your awed stare, that daydreaming haze in your eyes when you looked him over, his whole body clear under the gentle light in his cave.

“This way.”

Without making your gaze leave his figure, he drew you in, heading towards his biggest room where he caught and strung everything to fit his pleasure and mood. It was somewhere deeper into the system with walls strong and sturdy, and the round ceiling higher than the other rooms. On one side was a pile of golden objects of all shades, light yellow to a darkish gold, nearly bronze; on the other was a mix of pretty silver things and metallic black objects, rusted by age and the salty ocean; and on another, the smallest of them all, comprised of a few dozens of colourful shells and corals frozen in time that you’d given him.

He saw your chest expand, your smile growing brighter and brighter at the pile of gifts you gave him, your bubbly laugh as you swam towards it, twirling around it proudly. You looked around the room, admiring his large collection and how it seemed to spill down every pile in an attempt to reach the other one, forming a protective ring around your presents, but always coming back to the bright pink, blue and yellow shells. You were happy and appreciative of the time he spent working and arranging his hoard. If he could, he’d preen and purr to you, to show just how much your proud smile meant to him, watching you appraise his work was satisfying.

He already felt like things were falling into place perfectly, he could see the life he had envisioned with you coming to life, the little intricacies that popped into his mind seeming too appealing. His dreams were slowly becoming a reality, the things that he could only imagine were now tangible to his hands, and the future he salivated at was so, so close that he could sink his teeth into its flesh.

He knew it. He knew it when he watched you swim to him with that big, adorable smile on your face, that it was in his hands. He could see it now, how his lonely cave would be filled with life and laughter, children with a mix of your beauty and his madness chasing one another between the many openings and your round, swollen stomach welcoming another of your children to the world. That was all he could think of while he cradled you in his arms, his tentacles latching to your tail and back.

“You’re happy, ja?”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @candlewitch-cryptic @im-making-an-effort @0alk0msan

4K notes · View notes

wife-of-all-dilfs · 4 months

Text

what friends do | f. odair

masterlist

summary: you were a simple town girl. finnick odair was the crown jewel of panem. both of you needed an escape and found it at a secluded beach just outside district four. these were three ingredients that created a year-long friendship. but were friends supposed to have… impure thoughts about one another? you weren’t so sure.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: smut, wayyy too much detail, dirty thoughts, friends-to-lovers, mild angst, mostly readers pov, pre-rebellion, HEAVY dirty talk, fingering, unprotected p in v (big no no), multiple orgasms, so much pining, creampie, cock-warming

notes: i’m so sorry this took me so long. life has been up my ass lately and, as y’all know, i’m a slow writer. but thank you sm to everyone who patiently stuck around, i love y’all <3 this was supposed to be a short smut fic but um, apparently not. anyway, this has taken long enough to come out so imma stop rambling. ENJOY <3

word count: 11.7k

Mid-Autumn was closely approaching District Four.

Harvest in the fishing industry was at its peak and the docks were chock-full with boats bringing in their plentiful catches. The town centre was a bustling scene, crowded with people selling produce and trading for food to bring home to their family's kitchen table.

Last year's autumn harvest was the same picture—overflow, hustle, commotion; chaos like this was something you never came to enjoy. So, it was also around this time last year that you had decided to set off in search of the perfect location away from the rest of society. A place where you could be at peace, where you could forget the disastrous world you lived in.

District Four was home to many popular beaches, but the one you discovered was uninhabited, isolated, found after an hour-or-so-long trek through overgrown dirt pathways and a thicket of sea-grape and palm trees. A true paradise away from society. Or so you had thought in the first few weeks.

You weren't too sure when he had started showing up or how he had even discovered the beach.

However, one evening, as you were seated in the sand watching the sunset on the darkening horizon, you noticed a dark figure diving and surfacing in the flat, glimmering water. Their movements were so poised and fluid like the ocean was something they had conquered. You guessed it to be a dolphin or shark because there was no way a human being could move so gracefully.

But then the figure started wading to shore, and the next thing you knew, they were standing on two legs and exiting the water. You knew then that you had guessed wrong. The sun behind him obscured the bronze of his hair and the swirling lukewarm sea that pooled around his pupils. All you could see was the outline of his tall broad figure as he hiked through the sand toward you.

Fear had told you to bolt from the approaching stranger. You were in the middle of nowhere—it was the perfect place to be murdered or kidnapped. But something else, some deep and tangible instinct, also told you to stay.

"Didn't realise I had a captive audience," thestranger spoke, droplets of gleaming water sliding off his body and into the sand as he stood a few feet away.

Taken by surprise, you fumbled over your words trying to form a sentence in response. "I wasn't—I didn't—"

"Easy, honey," he chuckled. The sound was so warm and pleasant that it almost alleviated the slight chill in the air. "Just pulling your leg."

Your mouth formed a small circle. "Right," you said, gaze locked on the golden sand in embarrassment. "I, uh, didn't think anyone else knew about this place."

To be honest, you were pretty sure it was a restricted area. Probably the reason it was so isolated. If a Capitol official found you, the consequences would most likely involve your tongue, a scalpel, and a hell of a lot of pain. All for a wanting a little peace and quiet.

"Neither did I," the man said. "I only come every now and then. Need an escape from the constant buzz back home. Time for myself, you know?"

"Yeah." You smiled, feeling the stranger's words resonate in your soul. "Yeah, I do know."

You thought you saw the corners of his lips curve into a smile, but the shadows on his face were so prominent that you couldn't tell.

"Mind if I sit?" he asked.

Well... if he were going to murder you, he would have done it already. So, you nodded. Sometimes you questioned your survival instincts. Or lack thereof.

He didn't leave much space as he sat beside you. Only an inch or two, meaning you could feel the humidity of body heat and salt water emit from his skin. Even sitting down, he was still quite tall compared to you, but that wasn't what caused your heart to drop into your stomach.

The setting sun, which no longer disguised his face with shadows, now illuminated his entire figure and revealed his identity. His hair was a mess of wet wavy strands, the colour alight like a pale fire beneath the sun's orange radiance. His skin was sun-kissed, no doubt from days he had spent perfecting his swimming abilities. And those dimples... wow.

He was gorgeous. A man sculpted by the gods of beauty, just like everyone in Panem had depicted him to be. Even his sea-green eyes were as striking as everyone said.

Finnick Odair.

The man who was crowned victor of the sixty-fifth Hunger Games at fourteen. Who trapped multiple tributes at once in a net and killed them one by one with his famed trident. A killer.

The man whose reputation in the Capitol was known nationwide. A proud womanizer.

That was what everyone made him out to be.

Only, in the brief interaction you shared with him, he seemed like quite the opposite. He radiated effortless charm and warmth, but not in the arrogant way the media had portrayed him. Then again, did the media ever accurately portray the truth of anything?

It was then that you determined it didn't really matter who people said he was or what he had done. He was a human being—just like you. He deserved a chance.

His pink lips stretched into a knee-weakening smile; you were grateful that you were sitting down.

"I'm Finnick, by the way."

The both of you knew he didn't need to introduce himself. The whole of Panem knew his name and face. Though the fact that he humbly did so anyway made you like him the tiniest bit more.

You returned his smile with one of your own and introduced yourself.

Time passed and the sun had set; the moon had risen, but you both remained sitting side-by-side in the sand. Conversation flowed so naturally between the two of you that it was difficult for you to remember that stopping and getting some air into your lungs was an important factor in keeping a conversation going... as well as keeping you alive.

You told him about yourself as he did himself—some things that were meant to remain secrets, some things that seemed too strange to tell anyone else.

At some point, he had offered to walk you back to your house. The trek was over an hour long but neither of you seemed to care. The time flew by.

When you were standing at your front door and he was gazing up at you from the bottom of the steps, you both promised to meet again the next day. And you did.

As you did the day after that... and the day after that... and the day after that...

**********

As soon as the nights carried that familiar chill and the town congested with markets and fervent buyers, you knew mid-autumn had made its return. This meant most of your evenings were spent at a certain secret beach with a certain District Four victor.

Having already finished his pre-sunset swim, Finnick was sitting beside you, fingers weaving dried palm leaves into the mat beneath you. A couple of weeks after you had first met, he had shown up one day holding it all rolled up in hand.

"Made this for you to sit on," he had said with a proud smile. "Took nearly all night and earned me a few good finger cramps, but I think it was worth it."

Pinpointing the exact moment your attraction to him first formed was tricky. However, that gesture was one your mind returned to often. That little palm-leaf mat, the time and effort he put into making it, was scored on your heart.

Finnick was very much a gentleman.

He would always offer you a hand when standing up and whenever you walked back through the overgrown seaside forest. Sometimes he picked fruits for you such as sea grapes and mangos or would climb one of the palms and knock down a few coconuts. One thing he always, always did wasmake sure you got home safe; he never let you out of his sight until you were safe inside your front door.

All those gestures, big and small, added up. Soon enough, Finnick Odair had infiltrated your heart and consumed all your thoughts. You saw his sea-green eyes staring back at you whenever you gazed out at the ocean by your house. Felt the ghost of his hands on yours whenever you picked a grape from the kitchen fruit bowl. Heard his voice calling out your name in your most vivid of dreams.

But there was more to it than innocent adoration.

The guilt came when your gaze started lingering on his body a little too long whenever he left the water at the beach. Shimmering droplets would glide down his beautifully tanned skin; his arm muscles would flex as his fingers raked back his dripping wet hair. It wasn't yourfault he was the walking definition of perfection.

Unholy was the closest word to describe the filthy thoughts that had perverted your imagination. What started as endearing daydreams soon became fantasies that had you seeking relief between your thighs late at night. Your thoughts went wild whenever he dropped you off at your house. It took everything in you not to invite him inside and ask him to fuck you senseless against the front door.

All you had to do was ask. You knew he would say yes.

A year is a long time to know someone. A long time for feelings to grow. It also serves as a lot of time for things to happen between two people—things that linger in your mind even months after they have happened.

Like the times he would walk by you and teasingly whisper something provocative in your ear, then disappear for an hour of swimming, leaving you all hot and flustered in the sand. Neither of you would acknowledge it when he returned. Or when conversations took such a flirtatious turn, the tension only dissipated when houses were separating you at the end of the night.

But that's just what friends do, right? They tease and banter?

Maybe.

However, not all things could be chalked up to being just friends.

Another thing about Finnick's eyes was that they were transparent. You saw how helplessly they clung to you the days you stripped to your underwear and joined him in the water. He had this sort of reaction that turned his eyes into a dark violent sea, like you were some divine temptation planted to test the strength of his resolve.

Sometimes he could resist. Other days it was obvious he couldn't help but reach out and touch.

He would try to be subtle about it. Hands holding yours a little longer than necessary when he helped you stand up. Sitting too closely beside you so that your arms and legs would graze against each other. Brushing off pieces of seaweed that would stick to the dip of your waist and then constantly using the same excuse just to feel the heat of your soft skin.

There was one interaction, though, that you fell asleep to the thought of every night. It was a moment when things almost went too far; an interaction friends definitely did not share.

You could remember it clear a day. Hell, you could still feel it clear as day.

It was a hot summer evening. Both you and Finnick were at the beach and swimming in the water since being in the muggy coastal heat for more than five minutes was parallel to roasting in a thousand-degree sauna.

You were about twenty meters offshore, bobbing beside Finnick as he dived to collect various seashells. That boy could hold his breath for an unbelievable amount of time which meant sometimes you spent minutes alone on the surface, waiting, listening to the calm waves lap eerily around you.

This is exactly how people die in shark movies, said an unwarranted voice in your mind.

As usual, a minute went by. Nothing to worry about. Then a minute turned into two and you were starting to become a little concerned. And then it was two and a half minutes and you were now panicking.

"Finnick?!" you called out, hoping he could somehow hear you from the dark depths.

Three minutes had totalled, and you were pretty certain he had drowned. Just to add to the utter dread coursing through your veins, something slimy brushed against your foot. Most likely a piece of seaweed, but you didn't make that connection at the time.

That very same moment, Finnick burst through the water's surface, only mildly breathless and pinching a small iridescent shell between his fingers.

"Look at thi—"

Before the words could leave his mouth, he found himself enveloped in your distraught embrace. Your face was buried in the crook of his neck, crying tears of relief.

Damn that stupid seashell.

He automatically secured you in his arms, concern palpable in his voice as he asked, "Are you okay?"

You pulled away, an indistinguishable combination of tears and saltwater rolling down your cheeks. Though it was hard to miss the look of distress found in your furrowed brows and trembling lips.

"Don't ever do that to me again!" you exclaimed, gripping his arms to emphasise your urgency. "You hear me?! Ever!"

Finnick's head tilted slightly, surprised by your emotional reaction. He hadn't realised he meant so much to you. The surprise faded into remorse, softening his features.

"I won't. I won't, I promise," he said sincerely. His eyes flickered over the worry lines etched on your forehead. He unconsciously brushed his thumb over the lines, hoping to draw out the anxiety with his touch, and then tucked away a strand of hair. "I'm sorry I scared you."

You took in a deep, shuddering breath in an attempt to compose yourself. A mess of emotions stirred inside you—worry, embarrassment, irritation. You were partially frustrated with Finnick for making you fear for his life. Mostly annoyed with yourself for showing such vulnerability in front of him.

"God, you're an idiot sometimes," you sighed, shaking your head.

He smirked. "Didn't think you cared so much about me."

"No, you just don't think, Finn."

He glanced off into the distance for a moment with furrowed brows. "Well, that's definitely not true," he countered, meeting your gaze again with a half-smirk. "I think about a lot of things, actually."

"Oh? Like what?" you asked, slightly annoyed. "Do tell me what the great Finnick Odair thinks about instead of his own safety."

Slowly, the smirk faded from his lips. Something new tinged the atmosphere and suddenly everything around you seemed hotter than it previously was. Not an uncomfortable or sweltering heat, but one that held an intensity that sparked the air with electricity.

You suddenly became very aware that Finnick was still holding you in his arms. You recognised the confined proximity between you and him and realised that, before this moment, your bodies had never been so close.

Your legs were curled around his hips, pelvis pressed firmly against his. The position of his hands, which were keeping you afloat, was bordering on inappropriate but would only be deemed as such if you cared. Which you didn't. You liked it—having his hands on you.

One thing you couldn't ignore was the flickering of his gaze. How his eyes kept dropping to your lips. How they blatantly revealed a long-awaited confession that words just couldn't capture. Still, you wanted to hear him say it. You wanted to hear the purr in his voice as he told you.

Then he was leaning in. You weren't sure whether it was on purpose or if the pure magnetism of the tension between you was drawing him closer. Regardless, you started to lean in closer too, eyes drooping as you focused on his mouth.

And before the short distance between your lips and his became immeasurable, you whispered, "Tell me, Finn."

The hands keeping you afloat trailed up and down your back restlessly as Finnick forced a tense exhale through his nose. He seemed to be wrestling with thoughts. You waited in anticipation, and right when it seemed like he was going to make a move—

"I think..."

—you were interrupted. By no less than a pod of dolphins as they leapt from the water, causing you and Finnick to jolt from each other's embrace.

The rest of that evening was not worth mentioning. Not because you had forgotten what happened, but because the sheer awkwardness between you and Finnick afterwards was so torturous that you wanted to keep the memory squashed in the recesses of your mind. Neither of you acknowledged what happened. Finnick still walked you home, but it was done so in agonising silence.

Surprisingly, you both returned to the beach the next day. You hadn't expected him to be his usual upbeat self, but he was. So, in turn, you too acted like the previous day was erased from history. But your friendship with him was never the same.

Flirty conversations no longer felt like a joke; they now had a deeper meaning. Fleeting touches caused full-body goosebumps that didn't happen before. There was so much unresolved tension, and it was painfully thick. Inescapable.

So, as Finnick sat beside you present-day, weaving dried palm leaves into the mat beneath your bodies, you couldn't help but notice the transparency of your body language and his. The gap between you both was comparable to the size of a pearl and even though neither of you acknowledged it, you kept catching each other stealing quick glances every half-minute or so.

When you were sure he wasn't looking, you found your gaze drawn to his fingers. They were sturdy, yet nimble; curling and manoeuvring in ways that had your face feeling hotter than the heat of any sunburn or warm summer's day. This heat was beneath your skin. Spreading through your limbs in little tendrils and wrapping around your nerves. A dip in the salty sea wouldn't cool you down nor would a gulp of cold fresh water.

As you stared at his hands, you knew only the source of the sensation could offer reprieve. But that wouldn't happen, so there you burned.

The fact that he was shirtless and that his hair was a gorgeous mess of damp bronze curls helped not one bit with taming the consuming desire inside you. God, you were a mess yourself.

You sighed.

The sun, glowing intensely with a divine orange, was beginning its descent on the horizon. Your feet were buried beneath the soft sand, trying to retain some warmth as a slight breeze blew against your exposed skin.

Wearing a short sundress probably wasn't the most practical idea. Embarrassing as it was to admit, practicality wasn't what was going through your mind when you decided to wear it... Someone—Something else was.

"Something on your mind?" Finnick asked suddenly.

Your heart fumbled in your chest, terrified that he had somehow heard your thoughts. "Sorry?"

"You sighed," he said, turning his head to look at you. "Or am I just getting so old that I'm already starting to hear things?"

With relief of his lack of mind-reading abilities, you laughed softly. "You're definitely getting a bit old, Finn," you teased. "Any nursing homes you've been considering?"

"I heard retirement by the sea has its perks," he quipped, subtle dimples present as he returned to his weaving. "Although, I will need someone to make sure I don't fall asleep while swimming and get carried out by the tide. What d'you say, sweetheart? Up for becoming my personal lifeguard?"

Absolutely. "Depends. Will you force me to wear one of those awful flowery swimming caps with a matching tankini?"

He clicked his tongue in disapproval. "I'm thinking more like those little red bodysuits. You know, the ones that zip open down the front?"

You reprimanded him by pushing his shoulder, wearing a betraying smile. "Very charming."

"I just think red's your colour, that's all," he laughed.

Your stomach fluttered. You knew he was teasing you; teasing was basically the foundation of your... friendship. Deep down, you knew there was also some truth behind his words. A truth that was as electrifying as it was upsetting—how long were you both going to keep up with this whole 'friends' charade? Could you handle it if the answer was forever?

Best not to think about it. For your sanity's sake.

Finnick finally settled into a comfortable position with his forearms locked around his bent knees, apparently having decided to continue his mat-weaving another time. He had been extending it bit by bit ever since he first made it for you. At this point, you were sure he was attempting to cover the entire beach. For now, it was only big enough for two people to lie down on.

Sounds pretty convenient, came an abrupt thought.

And then you fell down yet another rabbit hole of depraved daydreams... A pair of hands interlocking your own above your head. Hot lips pressing kisses to your neck. Tongue gliding up the sensitive skin of your jugular. Your fingers tugging at bronze curls between your thighs.

You were sick. Diseased with immorality. Finnick was your friend. If not your best friend. You're not supposed to fantasise about fucking your best friend.

"Thinking about anyone in particular?"

You almost choked on your saliva. "W—What?"

How did he keep doing that?

Finnick seemed to find joy in your perplexity. It was written all over his face. God, those fucking dimples. "You've been completely still for nearly five minutes and your legs are covered in goosebumps," he pointed out. "Hence the question: who are you thinking about?"

As you looked down, you found that your skin was in fact riddled with goosebumps. It didn't occur to you then that the only reason he could have noticed was if he was staring at your legs in the first place. It also didn't occur to you that Finnick obviously had the very same debauched thoughts running through his own mind.

Why did you have to wear such a revealing dress? He already struggled enough with resisting you at the best of times.

If you had been paying attention, a simple glance in his direction would have revealed how his ears were pink and his pupils were dilated. More importantly, you would have seen his legs constantly shifting to ease the discomfort tenting his pants. Fortunately, he had mastered the art of winding himself down in a short amount of time.

Unfortunately for you, that ability was not within your skill set.

You scoffed. "In case you haven't noticed, Finnick—it's autumn," you said, a quick snappy lilt in your tone. "I know you've got some weird internal space heater built into you, but normal people tend to have a reaction to the cold."

Well, it's a good thing you didn't sound defensive...

Finnick raised an eyebrow at you, displaying a puzzled half-smirk that spoke a thousand words.

You lowered your head in embarrassment, grinning sheepishly. "Sorry," you murmured. "I just, uh, don't really like the cold."

"Who could've guessed."

Despite serving as an excuse, it wasn't entirely untrue. You really did dislike the cold. And it was now that you seriously regretted your choice of sparse attire. The breeze kept blowing up the dress's skirt, threatening to expose your dignity to the world. Or more accurately, to Finnick. Thankfully, you had decided to wear a pair of delicate lace underwear that morning instead of old granny panties.

Nevertheless, now that it was on your mind, you couldn't think about anything but the cold gusts of wind blowing against you. Chills ran over your skin and you were shaking like a leaf.

Finnick, being the gentleman that he was, scanned the surrounding area for anything he could use to keep you warm. He would've given you his shirt had it not been crumpled in a ball of wet sand on the ground.

There was nothing else of use. Nothing except a single apprehensive idea sitting in the forefront of his mind. It was all he had. He bit the inside of his cheek as he contemplated the potentially disastrous idea.

Then, after taking a silent deep breath, he finally said, "Come here then." Your eyes snapped to his. You must've looked like you had seen a ghost because his brows knitted together in confusion. "What?" he breathed out a chuckle. "I'd prefer not having to carry you home as a block of ice."

You thought about it for a moment. Was it really such a good idea after the thoughts that were just swarming in your mind? Another gust of wind blew by and you instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself.

"I won't bite, sweetheart. Not unless you want me to," he added.

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, shut up."

With that, you slid across the mat, positioning your body, which was still facing the sunset, in front of his legs. There was a moment of hesitation. Anxiety. But before you could reconsider, Finnick wrapped a strong arm around your middle and pulled you back against his chest, situating your body between his legs.

The exhale that left your lips was instantaneous and you couldn't help but shudder at the warmth of his skin. "God," you sighed, overwhelmed by the sudden change in temperature. "How are you so warm all the time?"

"Oh, you know. Weird internal space heater."

You laughed softly, then felt Finnick's chest vibrate against your back as he joined you. His bare arms wound tighter around you, motivated by the affectionate atmosphere. Your body seemed to melt into the cocoon of warmth he provided, and a soft smile graced your lips.

"Better?" he asked.

You nodded, responding with a whisper, "Thank you."

"Anytime."

You could hear the smile in his voice and how intently he was trying to hide it. You wished you could have seen it. To see the sense of peace you shared. However, feeling it in the way he held you was enough.

Instead of blood, your heart now seemed to be pumping out rather odd alternatives—waves of sea-green salted ocean, iridescent seashells, smiles paired with heart-stopping dimples. How could he? How could Finnick condemn you to loving him like this? So unwaveringly; so without a hope of ever being able to return to life without him in it.

He made a mess of you. A ruin. And even with wholesome affection running through your veins, you still couldn't ignore the hazy images conjuring in your mind from the way his body was pressed firmly behind you.

How could he?

The sun had just touched the horizon, granting the sky a few more minutes of light, meaning it was almost time to head home—an upsetting reality. You weren't sure how much time had passed before your body started to ache from lack of movement.

You wiggled your toes which were buzzing like television static. The feeling started moving up your legs and you knew if you didn't stretch, you would later embarrass yourself trying to stand on dead legs. So that is what you did. You started moving.

First, you stretched out the muscles in your legs and then moved onto straightening your back against Finnick's chest, feeling the faint pops of your spine offer you relief. And then you started readjusting your position and wriggling your hips to fit more comfortably between Finnick's toned thighs. That was your first mistake.

"Stop moving."

You were taken aback by the rigid inflection in his tone. "What?" you asked, ignoring his warning and continuing your restless movements.

"Stop. Moving," Finnick repeated, sounding more strained.

His hold on you became stiff. Completely frozen.

You were confused. Everything was perfect a moment ago, and all you were doing was stretching—why was he being so weird and snappy?

In response, you exhaled sharply. "I'm just trying to get comf—"

"Fuck," he breathed out.

Your eyes widened and it was safe to say your stomach had flipped inside out.

That was the moment you finally realised your second mistake. The rigidness in his voice wasn't him being snappy with you at all. Not even close. He was just trying to prevent the pleasure he felt below from reaching his vocal cords.

But it was too late. It wouldn't have mattered if he managed to keep quiet because you could feel it now. The achingly hard length that was pressed against your backside, reaching all the way up to your tailbone.

"...Oh," you whispered.

"Yeah," Finnick said. "Oh."

Now it was your turn to freeze. Fear consumed you, similar to what you imagined having to remain motionless in front of tyrannosaurus rex to prevent from being eaten alive was like. Thanks to the damning wind, strands of your hair blew behind your shoulders, undoubtedly tickling the exposed skin of Finnick's chest. Even that minuscule movement had your heart threatening to explode with anxiety.

As per usual, panic wreaked havoc in your mind.

What do I do? Do I get up? How will we come back from this? Does he—

Finnick cleared his throat. "Uh, you still alive in there?" he chuckled nervously.

You felt minor relief enter your bloodstream upon hearing the normality in his voice. At least one of you was composed enough to act normally. Well, as normal as one could act after becoming hard due to their best friend sitting in their lap.

"Is it—" You swallowed the nerves rattling your voice "—is it because there's a girl sitting on your lap, or is it because it's me?"

That was the million-dollar question. Was his reaction simply biological? A natural response to stimulation? Or was it deeper than that? More personal.

Finnick was silent.

The rapid thumping in your chest moved to your ears, like a drumroll leading up to some grand reveal. You felt dizzy; both filled with dreadful anticipation and exhilaration. Your senses were so heightened, fuelled by an inane bout of adrenaline. You swore you could almost hear the gears turning in Finnick's mind, smell the smoke as they rotated over and over, trying to make sense of your question and form a suitable response.

Religion never played a factor in your life, but, oh, how you were zealously praying his answer would be the one you spent all your nights fantasising about. But still, he was silent.

And right when you believed he wasn't going to respond at all, his lips finally uttered that single life-changing word. "You."

Fireworks seemed to light up every nerve in your body. You.

You weren't sure what to make of your thoughts at first. The overwhelming abundance of emotion caused by a singular word was difficult to fathom. Only one sentiment stood out from the rest—and that was the fact that Finnick felt the same as you did for him.

It was no longer a speculation. It was a fact. A truth. An undeniable reality. You had both verbal and physicalproof, literally digging into your backside.

Finnick slowly, very slowly, unwound an arm from your torso, and you held your breath. His hand slid across your waist and then plastered itself over your hipbone, careful not to apply too much pressure to make you feel uncomfortable. When you felt the slight movement of his thumb gliding across your clothed skin, you exhaled the burning air in your lungs with a shaky sigh.

"Do you want me to get up?" you asked softly while staring at the sunset, although you were focused on anything but.

"Not a chance." And then he unwound the other arm, now cupping both sides of your hips with two large hands. The heat from his palm sank into your skin, sinking deeper layer by layer until it reached the rapid flow of your bloodstream. "Do you want to get up?"

You felt a pulsing sensation between your thighs that had your parted lips inhaling slow deep breaths, and you knew the only logical answer was no. So, you shook your head.

Finnick reached up to skilfully tuck a lock of hair behind your ear before placing his hand back on your hip. He then leaned down beside your ear, voice a hot, velvety whisper, "What next then, sweetheart?"

A wave of chills ran down your entire body.

What next? Another question for the ages. You had dreamt of this moment a million times over. You had pictured the unholiest, most vivid of scenarios, and yet here you were, mind blank as an empty void.

Then it hit you. Rather than acting from a pre-planned script, wouldn't it be better to just let your body act on what it naturally desired? On instinct? You took in a deep, stabilising breath and gave yourself into moment.

You slowly began turning your head to the side until, for the first time since he pulled you into his arms, your eyes flickered up and found Finnick's. His lips quirked with the ghost of a smile at the exchange, but he held it back. His jaw clenched and unclenched, muscles ticking with tension.

He was looking at you in a way you had never seen before. Or perhaps, you were just never close enough to notice, and he had always looked at you this way. There was a blazing intensity in his eyes, dark and penetrative, a bridge between yearning and total reverence. It was so enticing that you could feel your hands itching to undress yourself in front of him.

Finnick murmured your name.

"Yes?" you managed to whisper.

"Do you have any idea how long I've waited for this?"

Those words—he had stolen them from the tip of your tongue.

You couldn't find the strength to muster any profound response. So instead, you found your head tilting back and the crook of your elbow winding up and around the nape of his neck. You didn't need to guide him down; he came willingly.

His lips caught yours in a soft, warm exchange. Singular yet prolonged. Then there was a brief pause of disconnection, a calm before the storm. And with Finnick, when it rained, it poured. Suddenly, a hand was cupping the area where your jaw and neck connected, and his lips were on yours again.

There was so much more heat in this kiss. A depth that kept growing with each connection of your lips. You could hear the fervour in the breathless exhales that exited his nose, the quiet groans that slipped into your mouth. Though the same could be said for you.

You couldn't subdue the moans and meek whimpers that leaked out. Especially when his tongue slipped into your mouth and took control over your own. At this point, you couldn't even be called putty in his arms; you were pure liquid, totally and completely submissive in his embrace.

It was impossible to tell who was throbbing beneath you anymore. All you were sure of was that the pretty lace panties you had put on that morning were now soaked. Though even if he never touched you, you wouldn't have cared. Having his lips on yours, his tongue on yours, was enough. And if he kept at it long enough, you were sure it would even be enough to get you off. That's how much power Finnick had over you.

Apparently, he felt the same too. Because when you leaned further back into him and your ass pushed against the length of his erection, his fist scrunched the fabric of your dress by your hip and his lips left yours to let out a shuddering breath.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he huffed, half chuckling.

Technically, it was a suppressed moan. Either way, you swear you almost came then and there.

With one last gentle kiss, you opened your eyes, pulling away to replenish your lungs with air. Finnick's eyes were already locked on yours in a drunken haze from the taste of your lips. Your arm unwound from his neck, grazing down his broad shoulders and bicep. During so, your eyes caught on the tiny bumps and raised hair scattered across his arm.

"You've got goosebumps," you smiled, trailing your fingertips across his skin.

His gaze moved to follow your hand, wearing a boyish grin. "Would you believe me if I said I was cold?"

Your throat buzzed with a suppressed giggle. Seeing the way his body reacted to yours was incredibly motivating. Someone telling you they lusted after you could easily be spoken with deception. But having visual confirmation, witnessing a reaction that couldn't possibly be forced, was a whole different story. Finnick's body craved you.

Given that incentive, the slight trepidation still holding you back now disappeared into the back of your mind. Your fingers curled around his wrist, dragging the hand beneath your jaw down to your neck, and then down to your chest. It didn't take him too long to figure out your intentions. He overtook your influence and autonomously moved his hand to cup your breast.

You were essentially caged in his embrace. Exactly how you wanted it.

You stared ahead with relaxed eyes, watching as the sun slipped into the dark water. Night had officially blanketed District Four and, now being shielded by darkness, the stars were your only witness. Strangely enough, you felt a new sense of shamelessness.

So as Finnick kneaded your breast in his warm hand and pinched the sensitive peak of your nipple between his thumb and forefinger through the lace of your bra, you allowed a soft moan to escape your lips.

It was almost as if you could actually feel the smirk growing across Finnick's lips behind you. One thing you actually could feel was the twitch of his achingly hard cock beneath you.

"You like that?" he asked, definitely smirking.

"Yes," you sighed almost immediately.

If only he knew how truly euphoric you felt. If only he knew how many times you had imagined being in this exact situation. Having him touching you like this. The guilt of imagining him in such a way used to eat you up. But now that you were past the guilt, there was no shame connected to the thought of Finnick eating you up.

Fuck, he would look so perfect between your thighs—bronze curls all messed up from your pulling and tugging; sea green eyes squeezed shut as he dedicated his attention to dragging you down to the pits of hell with his tongue.

Your head fell back against his collarbone. He took this as a signal to move your hair aside and start planting hot kisses onto the curve of your shoulder. Then he trailed further across, brushing his lips across your skin until he reached the side of your neck and started sucking gently, though enough to leave behind pretty little red marks of possession.

"What about this?" he murmured against the delicate skin.

The faint taste of sea-salted air sat in the back of your throat as your breaths deepened. You felt his tongue glide partially up the length of your carotid artery, and your entire nervous system seemed to short-circuit.

"Yes,"you practically whined.

He must have found this amusing because you could feel the vibrations of his chuckle against your neck. But he wasn't finished yet. Hell, the finish line was a lifetime away regarding the things he planned on doing to you. They probably couldn't all be done in one night though, unfortunately.

You had completely forgotten about the hand still splayed on your hip. Why would you pay it any attention when it was sitting idle? Only it wasn't simply resting on your hip anymore. No. Now it was moving. Moving down.

His lips were still on your neck and he was still cupping your breast, but all you could focus on was the carnal descent of his hand. He found the hem of your dress, fingers toying with the flimsy material as one did when deciding whether or not to go through with something potentially consequential. Ultimately, he began to drag the fabric up your thighs, knuckles grazing over your soft skin until the skirt of your dress was ruched around your hips.

You sucked in a sharp breath. The vulnerability of suddenly being exposed in such a manner hit you like a tonne of bricks. This was really happening. Finnick, the Capitol's darling, District Four's golden boy, and more significant;y, your best friend, was touching you. He was kissing you. He was seeing and feeling parts of your body you had never let him see or feel before.

Naturally, this unfurling web of thoughts produced a surge of insecurity.

But, when his hand curled around your inner thigh and spread a wildfire of warmth across your skin, every thought that was previously passing through your mind disintegrated and was replaced with unadulterated yearning.

Finnick's mouth finally detached from your neck to hover beside your ear. "And this?"

He lightly kneaded your thigh to emphasise his question, dangerously close to the place that undoubtedly crossed the boundary between friend and lover.

You were speechless. The desire running through your veins was paralysing. All you could do was look, see, feel, and hope to god you didn't pass out from the shallowness of your breathing.

"Come on, sweetheart," he roused in that low, seductive purr. "Don't go quiet on me now. Use your words."

And how could you ever disobey a voice like that? It took every ounce of strength and concentration you had in you, but eventually, you managed to find your voice.

"I—" You cut yourself off with a gasp as his thumb purposefully wandered up to the edge of your underwear. Asshole. "I lie awake every night imagining us like this, Finn. You don't need permission to touch me. You've already had it for months."

Suddenly, a gentle finger was turning your chin, compelling you to meet Finnick's gaze. His eyes lacked the intensity from before and were now brimming with awe, brows knitted as if he was asking for confirmation if what you had said was truthful. And it was, painfully so.

To answer his wordless question, you leaned forward and connected your lips with his. He responded with ardency, and not long after, you could feel his hand wander up to the waistband of your panties.

He wasted not a second before dipping his hand beneath the lace material and finding that sensitive spot that had been begging for his attention.

Your lips separated from his to let out a breathy moan. "Finnick."

He simply smiled, two fingers rubbing circles around your clit. He pressed gentle coaxing kisses to your lips, and you really did try to respond, but you were never one for multitasking. Especially when the man you had fallen in love with was touching you so.

His other hand wandered across your torso, holding your waist, grazing over your stomach, tracing the length of your sternum. All very loving adorations compared to what his other hand was doing.

"I think I'm going to hell because of you," he murmured, millimetres away from your lips. Such a disconcerting thing for someone to admit, but all you could manage was a hum in response. "Every time I see you, I can feel myself getting closer and closer. You derange my thoughts, sweetheart. You corrupt them.

How am I supposed to be around you if I want to fuck you every time you say my name? And what makes it so much more impossible is that you don't even mean to make me feel this way; you just do. God, you're maddening. So sweet and maddening," he cooed, fingers picking up in pace which caused you to melt back into his chest and let out a pretty little moan. "Drives me crazy."

"And to think," you managed, "I thought you had your hands between my legs because you hated me."

Your hips were rolling lightly along with the rhythm of his fingers.

At the very same time Finnick's thighs tensed around your hips from the friction against his cock, he abruptly plunged two fingers inside you. Punishment.

The moan you let out was positively filthy.

"Such an attitude you have," he said. "Anyone would think you're completely innocent in a dress like this. But I know better than that." His fingers slid in and out, curling every time the base of his fingers bottomed out inside of you. "I know exactly why you wore it. Just like I know exactly why you wore those lace panties you pretend that I can't see whenever you bend over."

Heat crept up into your cheeks from hearing his words. You wanted to provoke him by saying 'And look where it got me'but who knew how his fingers would respond to your attitude.

"You can't do that to a man," he continued. "It's criminal."

"It's only fair, Finn," you breathed out, struggling to keep your voice level. "You ruined me."

A deep moan rumbled in his chest, though it never escaped. He couldn't break that easily. He needed to remain in control. This moment, to him, seemed like an eternity forthcoming. He needed to make the most of this moment with you, needed to show you what it was like to receive earth-shattering pleasure so that you only ever wanted to receive it from him. No one else.

Despite his obvious attempts at keeping himself in check, you could still feel his thick impatient cock twitch beneath your ass. Even through the layers of clothing between you, you could tell that he was incredibly big. So much so that it worried you a little. Only, when his fingers curled again, you forgot all about it.

The pads of his fingertips buried into your inner walls with every curl. The heel of his palm struck your clit with every thrust of his fingers and you could feel your stomach start tightening. Fuck, he was amazing at this.

It had been so long since someone had touched you like this. Well, someone that was actually good at it. Just a few minutes and Finnick was already about to make you come.

"Feels so good, so—ah—good!" you moaned, eyes fluttering shut.

He reached a free hand up to your breast, lightly pinching your nipple between his fingers until you let out a gasp. At least one of you was good at multitasking.

"You gonna come?" he asked, not that he even needed an answer. He could feel the way your walls were contracting around his fingers, feel the sticky warmth of your slick leaking onto his knuckles.

You nodded fervently.

"Say please first."

"Finn," you whined in frustration.

You could hear him chuckle self-satisfyingly behind you. "Come on, baby. Sweet girls are supposed to have manners, aren't they?"

His low, husky voice almost threw you over the edge. Oh, how you would love to listen to the sound of him talking you through your orgasm. That is if he ever even let you get to that point.

Never had you ever thought you would be pleading with a man for anything, yet here you were. Though, Finnick Odair could hardly be called a man. He was so much more than that; he was bordering on divinity. And you weren't going to miss the chance of being unravelled at the hands of a divine being.

"Please, Finnick," you begged, your body literally buzzing with desperation. "Please make me come."

He pressed a kiss below your earlobe. "Since you asked so nicely."

His fingers picked up in pace. They weren't even plunging in and out anymore but were rather curling, over and over again in that electrifying spot inside you. He went hard and fast, working to bring you to your high as quickly as possible. Your moans were so unrestrained, so breathless and shallow that you started to feel the world spin around you.

Your hand flew back to hold onto his arm, nails digging into the hard muscles of his bicep. Your hips were writhing in Finnick's lap and you could hear him groan out a string of curses. He held you down by the hip to try and keep you still, then moved across to the bottom of your abdomen where he pressed down.

That is what did it for you.

You cried out as tightness spread down your stomach and pure ecstasy took control. Finnick murmured words of praise and reassurance as you rode through your high, though a lot of it didn't register in your mind. You heard only a few bits and pieces which were enough to prolong the feeling that was overwhelming your entire body.

"Taking it so well."

"That's it, sweetheart. That's it."

"Such a good girl."

As the waves of pleasure slowly began to subside, you returned to reality. The heat that had been building up inside you started melting away, leaving you in a state of relaxation. Your fingers, which previously clung onto Finnick's arm, now grazed absentmindedly across his skin. It felt like you had been sucked into a dream—a little hazy and surreal, but incredibly tranquil.

"You okay?" Finnick asked softly.

You hadn't even noticed that his fingers had left your body. He had pulled down the hem of your dress— not that your dignity really needed saving anymore—and was holding your melted figure in his arms.

"Mm," you hummed contently, eyes fixed on the view in front of you. "Warmed up."

If only you were able to see his face, his smile. Those dimples. A powerful longing to be able to see every expression known to man morph his facial features washed over you. It was a little ridiculous how attracted to him you were. Nonetheless, you indulged the desire.

You pushed yourself from his lap and pivoted to face him

You were straddling his lap before any ounce of hesitation could hold you back. Finnick circled his arms around your waist, pulling you closer into his chest. He was smiling. He was smiling and it was even more beautiful than any sunset you had ever witnessed. You concluded that you had definitely made the right choice in deciding to face him.

"Hi," you whispered.

He smiled. "Hey, stranger."

He brushed back a few pieces of hair from your face, observing the blown size of your pupils and the sultry colour of your lips. He did that—he could not get over the fact that he did that to you. Finally.

You shrunk away from his gaze, a timid smile on your lips.

Finnick tilted his head slightly. "Shy thing."

You buried your face into the side of his neck, groaning quietly in embarrassment. You could hear the perfect sound of him laughing above you. He stroked the length of your spine, somehow managing to ease the nerves from your body with a simple touch. You left a quick kiss on the warm skin of his neck and rose back up to meet his gaze.

"Feeling better?"

"Much," you replied, sheepishly. Your eyes flickered across Finnick's, hesitated, and then gestured downwards. "But... you're not." His head tilted as though he were confused as to what you were suggesting, so you leaned in closer until your lips ghosted over his. "Still need to take care of you."

A breath of warm air fanned across your face as he chuckled. He shook his head. "It's alright. I can hold off for another time."

And although the prospect of doing this again another time was downright exhilarating, you couldn't ignore the palpable heat still lingering in your lower stomach, throbbing between your thighs. You could only imagine how he must have been feeling—cock throbbing with a need for relief, though ready to deny himself the same amount of pleasure he just gave you.

You suddenly curled a hand around the back of his neck and brought him into a slow kiss. To show him he was allowed to indulge himself. That you wanted him to. You ground your hips down on his lap and felt his lips falter against yours.

You pulled back and echoed your previous words, "It's only fair, Finn."

Time seemed to pause for a moment. Your breath and his mixed with one another in a sort of hot whirlwind of anticipation. Your bodies were still. Finnick's eyes were half-lidded staring at your mouth.

Then came the explosion.

His hands were hastily tugging your sundress over your head; his lips were on yours as he reached down between your bodies to unbutton his pants. It felt like a race against time. Like if you didn't do this now, the chance would never come by again. Hell, his pants hadn't even made it off his legs before he was holding himself in his hand and you were rising to your knees, positioning yourself directly above his length.

Your lips never left his, strenuous as it was, meaning the only gauge you got of how big he was wasn't from seeing it, but from feeling it as you pulled your panties aside, guided his cock to your entrance with one hand, and felt the entire veiny length of him fill you completely as you lowered yourself onto him.

A quiet, synchronised gasp left both your lips as you enveloped him completely in wet velvety warmth. His pelvis was connected with yours and his cock was pressed right up against your cervix. So incredibly deep, you could almost feel him in your stomach.

You stayed like this for a few seconds.

"So big," you gasped against his lips.

His hands were on your back, dragging up and down. "Want to stop?"

"Never."

This was so not what friends did.

He trailed kisses from your mouth, to your jaw, and down to your neck. You were grinding sinuously back and forth, Finnick's hands now on your hips as a guide, feeling his tip bury into the sensitive walls inside you. Your head fell back with a gratified moan as he nipped your neck unforgivingly, only to soothe the spots he marked with the glide of his tongue.

At that moment, the past and future were of no significance. The idea that doing this might ruin your relationship with him afterwards didn't concern you. You didn't bother recollecting a time when you and Finnick were merely friends, nor did you ponder how you even managed to reach this point.

All you could focus on was how fucking perfect his cock felt inside of you.

The cold, which was previously a nuisance, now served as a stimulant to your nipples which were only covered by the thin unpadded material of your lace bra. They were bouncing with every movement you made, the hard peaks rubbing against Finnick's chest and creating a triangle of pleasure between them and the depravity that was happening further below.

He was so hungry in the way he kissed you. His lips were soft, but they moved with heat and determination. His tongue was supple as it pushed against yours, moving masterfully in a way you could only compare to how he swam in the ocean. A conqueror—able to bring you into submission with ease.

You pushed yourself upwards, the muscles in your thighs slightly burning as you did so, and felt his cock glide through you. He inhaled harshly through his nose when his tip almost left your wet heat, and then groaned into your mouth when your hips sunk back down, engulfing him once again.

"Shit," he almost whined as your walls clenched around him. "I fuckinglove you."

You pulled away to look him in the eyes. It was incredibly difficult for you to contemplate his words—his confession—when he was, what, eight or so inches deep inside you?

He didn't look like he regretted saying it. He was simply staring at you with raised brows pinched together in pleasure, awaiting your response as you continued your sequence of rising and sinking to fill yourself up with his cock.

"You love me?" you asked in a laboured breath. He only nodded in response. You sank fully down onto his lap, discontinuing your movements, willing him to prove his so-declared devotion. "Then show me."

He was breathing heavily and watching you through strands of sea-salted hair messily splayed across his forehead. He was so beautiful it actually kind of hurt to look at him. His eyes fell to your mouth during this brief amnesty, a decision prominent in his mind. Then he was rushing forward, crushing his lips to yours and forcing your body to lay back on the mat beneath you.

Finnick somehow managed to remain inside you as he switched your positions—him now above you as your legs were wrapped around his waist. His body pinned you down with a comfortable weight, skin warm and flush against yours.

He was overpowering and dominating, and his thrusts were laced with a sense of appropriation like he was making you his. The slow grinds of his hips were hard yet measured and so breathtakingly deep, and the gentle upwards curve of his cock made sure his tip was prodding against that swollen pleasure-inducing spot every single time.

His kisses were sensual and slow; his tongue slipping languidly into your mouth, swirling and massaging your tongue like it was made of pure silk.

You had told him what to do—now he was showing you. Finnick Odair wasn't fucking you. He was making love to you.

Your hands were on his back, fingertips leaving red marks on the curves of his shoulder blades. You moved up to his hair, scratching your nails softly into his scalp, which earned you a soft moan in your mouth. Even you could feel yourself pulsing around his cock. Everything he did, every sound and action he made, had your body yielding to him.

His hand pulled you up into him by the waist, arching your back off the palm-leaf mat so that he was thrusting more profoundly into that blissful spot inside you. He never sped up his pace. He didn't need to. He was savouring the moment as much as he could, memorising each warm ripple of your walls his cock glided over inside you, every intoxicating moan your soft lips released, the pressure of your warm supple thighs hugging his waist.

He was committing every aspect of you to memory. Inside and out.

Having that knowledge only made the moment so much more pleasurable. Knowing that he wasn't just thinking about you with his cock, but was thinking about you with his heart too.

That feeling started creeping up inside you—the blissful burn of heat pooling in your lower stomach. It made your walls flutter around him. Made you whine and moan uncontrollably into his mouth until you couldn't focus on kissing him anymore and had to pull away.

Your head fell back onto the mat, hair strewn out around you. The sounds coming out of you were pure sin. Desperate, greedy sin.

Finnick chuckled adoringly above you. "Too fucked out, sweetheart?"

He couldn't exactly talk. The second you clenched around him again, he groaned out a curse and you—the parts of your mind that were still relatively comprehensible—were sure you could feel the warmth of pre-cum ooze inside you.

"Finnick," you mewled, and he caressed the baby hairs framing your face. "Feels so good. Should—should've done this sooner."

Through your half-lidded eyes, you watched as he nodded and then descended to your forehead, pressing his lips tenderly against your skin. I know, the gesture said. You felt a rush of affection flood through your body, ultimately accelerating the build-up happening inside you.

You could feel yourself teetering so impossibly close to the brink of your orgasm. The tightness inside you was so hot and overwhelming; it was a struggle for you to keep your eyes from fluttering shut and rolling back, though you willed yourself to keep them open. You had to.

Watching Finnick's face contort with pleasure as he's thrown into his own high from feeling your walls contract around him would probably be the highlight of your entire life.

"So beautiful," he cooed as he thrusted into you. "My sweet girl's gonna come, isn't she? Can feel it."

The words flew out of your mouth. "Come inside me."

"Come inside you?"

You were pretty sure he was mocking you from the devilish curve of his lips and furrow of his brows. But your lust-drunk brain didn't really care.

"Please. Wanna feel you—" Your chest heaved with each breath "—everywhere."

Finnick was so obviously trying to keep himself from giving in before you. But you could see how delirious his eyes were as they stared down at you and you heard how every low, gratified—frustratingly sexy—sound he made betrayed him. He was so close.

"Anything for you, sweetheart," he said, finally.

He managed to unhook your hands from around his back and guided them upwards, holding your wrists together above your head with one hand before he brought his other back to your waist. It was oddly romantic how he held you, given that he was fucking you like life after that night wasn't guaranteed.

And then, without warning, he was pounding into you, bottoming out completely with each thrust.

It was almost animalistic now—how you were both unable to control yourselves anymore. You were writhing beneath him, impulsively fighting against the grip he had on your wrists. And Finnick, well, he was fucking you so hard, you weren't sure if walking home that night would be a possibility.

He was a disaster of pleasured vocals, deep moans, and heavy breaths. You thanked the absolute heavens he was because it was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard in your entire life.

When your own moans started to rise in pitch, you knew you were done for. You felt so full. Stretched out to the max. Blinded by the heat that was drowning you. But your eyes managed to remain clear and locked on Finnick's the entire time, just as his were on yours.

With a fleeting glance downward, he once again placed a large hand over your abdomen and pushed down, and your back arched off the ground.

You were gone.

"Oh fuck!"

The heat, white and fiery, had consumed you. Your thighs tensed uncontrollably around Finnick, your body shaking beneath him as your insides pulsed all the way down to your stuffed entrance. White, sticky sweetness covered Finnick's cock as he continued to thrust into you, the wet sounds overpowering the waves cresting on the sands. It felt like fucking heaven.

He let out a moan, broken and breathless, and released the grip he had on your hands. In that short moment, you instantly gripped onto him, feeling his body shudder beneath your hands as his throbbing cock spurted out ropes of warmth deep inside you, the essence of both of you mixing inside your body, making you one.

You pulled him down and crushed your lips to his with a sudden intense urge to be as close to him as you could, if it were even possible to be any closer to him at that point. It felt a little spiritual, the way you practically wanted to merge your body with his. That's what having sex with someone you truly loved was like, you supposed.

The kiss was sloppy and messy, but it never lacked heat or affection. Lacking heat was impossible between you and Finnick.

A lot of time passed before either of you even contemplated pulling away from one another. Finnick was inside you for what must have been a good half hour after you had both finished. It felt close. Deeply intimate. He held you in his arms, his hands mapping out various parts of your body with unhurried measure as you lay beneath him, lazily yet affectionately making out with warm, reddened lips.

There were quiet giggles and heated words whispered between you that would have prompted another session had either of you been graced with the energy.

But it was late. The remnants of the sun had long since disappeared beneath the horizon, dimming the sky to a deep dark blue, the world's only source of illumination being the stars casting their sparkling light on the rippling water.

It was a new moon.

Eventually, you ended up laying over his chest, legs strewn across his as you both faced the ocean. Your head rose and fell with each breath Finnick took and it felt unreal.

You were momentarily worried your infatuation with him had grown too out of hand and you had imagined the whole day, or perhaps, the entire time you had known him. That it was all a figment of your vivid imagination.

Then, his warm hand slid into your own, which was draped across his stomach, and you knew that this, the newfound relationship between you and Finnick, was undeniably and rapturously real.

He slowly lifted them together above your bodies, palms flat against one another. There was a notable size difference between them—his palm was large and calloused with long fingers that squared off at the tips, meanwhile, your own fist could probably fit into his palm.

Your fingers danced delicately together as you both watched from below. He traced the length of your fingers with his fingertips; followed the etches in your palm, and turned your hand to explore the protrusions of your knuckles. There was a certain gentle curiosity in his touch, similar to that of someone who was discovering the act of human connection for the first time.

"I don't know if I can walk home," you whispered.

Finnick lowered your interlocked hands to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles before placing them back on his stomach. "I'll carry you."

"For an entire hour?"

"I'll manage," he said, "I've got muscles."

You scoffed quietly to yourself, smiling. "Ok, big strong man."

"Says the girl who needs to be carried home."

"Well, you are kind of the one to blame for that."

You tilted your head to glance up at him and found exactly what you were expecting to see. He was wearing a proud grin, all apple cheeks and crinkled eyes. It was something you had come to adore, even though sometimes it was out of arrogance.

Your head turned to rest back on his chest. You watched as his thumb caressed slow circles over your knuckle.

"What you said before," you began, "is it true? Do you really... love me?"

The heart beating beneath your ear genuinely sounded like it skipped a beat. You imagined that was a good sign, though your nerves were still a little frayed. What if he had only said it because of the heat of the moment?

A beat went by. "I've been trying to tell you ever since I first wove the mat for you," he confessed, his voice quiet yet holding the weight of the history that made up your friendship.

There it was—the truth laid bare. Despite hearing the words, it didn't really change anything. You suspected deep down you knew the entire time; you were just too self-doubting to accept it. To accept that Finnick Odair, the crown jewel of Panem, had fallen in love with you, an ordinary girl from District Four who just so happened to meet him at a secret beach.

Although, there was a sensation you remember upon first meeting him. That instinct that had told you to stay instead of running away, as any logical human being would do upon being approached by a stranger in the middle of nowhere. That instinct, despite sounding utterly ridiculous, caused you to believe that perhaps it was fate.

Maybe you were destined to meet. Maybe it didn't matter that he was a nationwide celebrity, nor you a simple town girl. Maybe your souls were entwined from the start and, one way or another, you would have met anyway.

Maybe.

"That's a long time," you said.

He laughed. "Yeah, well, I thought you would've gotten the hint by now."

And you couldn't help but join him. You thought you were the one who was deranged out of their mind. Here Finnick was telling you he had spent an entire year trying to confess his love without you even realising.

"I'm sorry it took me so long."

"It's alright," he said, earnestly. "I'd say it worked out pretty well. I mean, look where your obliviousness got us."

You smiled. Your legs were tangled with Finnick's; his arm was holding you tightly against his bare upper body, and his fingers were lovingly tracing over yours. Yeah, you were pretty grateful for your obliviousness sometimes. A new pair of underwear might have been something to consider, though.

A silence settled between you, comfortable, peaceful. Being in Finnick's embrace almost made you forget entirely about the reality of your existence—the Games, the dominion over Panem, the chaotic environment back home. It was the reason you had set off last year in search of a place away from society.

You had now found that the escape you were looking for wasn't a place or a hidden paradise, but a person. It was Finnick.

"Finn?"

"Yeah?"

The trees and palm leaves danced in the light breeze. Waves lapped on the shore.

You angled your head back to look at Finnick and felt him pull you closer. His expression was a picture of relaxation and contentment. His eyes gazed down at you, glimmering with the reflection of scattered stars in the night sky, just like the sea in front of you.

He seemed to already know what you were going to say. Always the mind reader.

"Say it, sweetheart." The corners of his lips twitched expectantly.

Sweetheart. Oh, how could you have ever felt for him in any other way?

"I love you too."

His face broke into one of the happiest smiles you had ever seen.

...roll credits

3K notes · View notes

dilfsfordinner · 6 months

Text

honeymoon- nanami kento x wife!reader

a/n- in preparation for this week’s episode, this is my ode to my husband

warnings- fem!reader, unprotected sex, praise, missionary pos, mating press, belly bulge, nanami has a big d, implied breeding kink, fluffff

—————————————————————————

Nanami Kento had been dreaming of a vacation. Somewhere with sand and palm trees, warm weather, the ocean, you. Now it would take a lot for him to admit this because he’s not a dreamer, per se, especially with his strict work ethic, but the amount of times he had to catch himself during a shift from drifting off in a fantasy about sleeping in or relaxing on the beach, you could say he had started to reflect his child-like self.

Except every single one of those dreams could not rival the feeling of experiencing his honeymoon with you. He’d gotten what he wanted. A private villa, surrounded by greenery with a whole rainbow of colors blessing the space. Red, orange, pink, and especially white flowers would pop out from the dense leaves of the tropical garden that was essentially your front yard, their sweet perfume just light enough to not be too overbearing. The villa was perched in a cluster of palms, the white-sand beaches of the Caribbean literally at your disposal by a pathway from your bedroom, its wood-lined trail leading down to a private oceanside cove of sand and the most vivid aquamarine water you’d ever seen.

It had been five days since the two of you had arrived at your little oasis, 120 hours of complete and utter relaxation accompanied by sheer happiness. You could barely contain your excitement for the trip when he’d announced the surprise destination a month before your wedding, and that giddiness you were once feeling was multiplied tenfold. Kento Nanami was finally your husband. The man you had fallen for was now tied to you legally and emotionally, the two of you matching with the golden bands placed upon your fingers, yours just a tad bit more extravagant with the stone you had dreamt of forged perfectly into the smooth metal.

Your favorite gift you had received though was once again from your husband. It had been given on the day of your wedding, a little white, bow-tied box placed in your hands before the reception. Upon opening it, you were met with a pretty bracelet, a twisted chain of pure platinum so uniformly perfect, you knew your husband had picked it. Your favorite part however, was the tiny charm hanging from the chain, a cursive “k” inscribed into the precious material, a clear sign of your newly wed’s hand in the purchase. “I’m yours now,” he had whispered into your hair, kissing away a stray tear from your cheek before helping you clasp the delicate chain around your wrist.

For days you had thanked him any way you could for his kindness, the two new additions he’d gifted so beautifully thoughtful, gifts that certainly garnered a lot of attention, especially when it came to some.. exerting activities.

It was like the atmosphere had turned you two into animals, your bodies sore from the endless (sorry for lack of a better word), fucking, the tension so thick you could feel it heavy in your chest, the warm, salty breeze flowing through the mesh, white curtains of your bedroom doing nothing to help calm your lustful state.

It was nearly dusk and your current session had started about an hour ago, any and every position you could think of already tried, your body turned and flipped a multitude of times before you were placed on your back again, thighs pushed up against your chest, your legs falling over your husband’s broad shoulders.

Your throat was dry from the fountain of moans constantly spilling from your mouth, Nanami’s name starting to sound like an imaginary word from the amount of times you’d choked out the syllables. Don’t be too embarrassed though because he was just as knocked as you, his skin flush from exertion, sweat dampening his blonde locks, and his usually cool tone of voice had turned desperate, your own name a slurred grumble or groan every time he felt you clench around him.

Your silky, white nightgown had been discarded long ago, the little scrap of fabric on the floor reminding you of what had started this escapade in the first place. The memory of Nanami’s eyes darkening when you’d emerged for bedtime had your stomach tightening and eyes squeezing shut. You’d known him for who knows how long and he still managed to make you feel like a horny teenager with just one look.

“My perfect wife,” he panted into your neck, heavy cock nudging your deepest parts, you could feel him in your belly, could even see him in your belly, the area below your navel molding just slightly into the shape of his cock every time he would push into you.

Your skin was glowing from the last remnants of sunlight reaching through the gauzey curtains, the ocean waves gentle as they crashed along the shore, wrapping you in a cocoon of pure passion, the current moment so perfect and loving, one of Nanami’s hands snaking into your palm to ground you, the other resting beside your head as he kissed the tender curve of your neck.

He was a warm lover. Caring, romantic, a listener. Someone who focuses on giving instead of stealing pleasure. That’s why it was so easy to give him your trust, to open yourself up to him emotionally, and physically. Someone who easily outshined anyone when it came to choosing who to share your remaining years with.

Your ring fingers clinked together when he pushed into you with a particularly needy thrust, the golden bands once again twining as his fingers curled over your own in a firm lock. “Only yours,” you whimpered out, voice almost breaking from your very vulnerable position, your chest compromised as your legs were propped up, the backs of your thighs fitting against his chest, folding over his shoulders at the knees.

Not only did your words drive him crazy, but the little jingle he would hear every time his hips connected with your own had his eyebrows knitting with some primal need to actually make you his. The bracelet he’d gifted you had ended up clasped around your delicate ankle, the silver charm glinting his initial in the low lights, every little reflection catching his peripheral, spurring him on. You had done it on purpose. You had known he would have you folded sooner or later and you knew how much he loved to mark you, that piece of jewelry a literal signing of his name on you.

Your mouths latched onto each other, hurried kisses ending in heavy breaths against each other’s face or neck, eventually your foreheads being the place of rest as he continued to fuck you with every ounce of energy in his body.

“-love you, s’much,” you murmured, voice lilting with the rising pleasure in your core, his thick length prodding every ridge you had to offer, that spongey spot of nerves catching his head with every pass, eliciting a gasp from your lips, Nanami’s jaw clenching as he held himself back from completely plowing into you, your approaching climax drawing a rush of liquid from your twitching cunt, trickling onto his thighs.

“I love you,” he kissed you this time, his strong hand fisting the sheets beside your head, the other still clutching onto your hand as he knocked the breath from your lungs, his cock feeling like a full-blown spear impaling you, the only thing keeping you sane being his mouth on you, and the sweet-nothings groaned from his lips.

***

It was dark by the time you two had truly finished with each other, your body curled up in Nanami’s lap as he lounged with you on the large chairs placed outside the curtains of your bedroom, the moonlight bouncing off the waves as they continued their trek across the shore.

His nimble fingers traced gentle shapes on your back, your upper body covered by his blue shirt, dwarfing your form in a pool of fabric, Nanami modeling your “half-nakedness” with only a pair of boxers, his strong legs visible to your very sleepy, but eager eyes.

Some type of tropical, cricket creature hummed a pretty song, coaxing your eyelids to flutter, your body sinking further into your husband’s hold, your cheek nestled gently against the soft curves of his collarbone, his heartbeat steady in your ear.

Taking note of your drifting consciousness, Nanami smiled down at your curled up form, fingers slowly letting up on their brief massage session to brace his hold. “Let’s get you to bed,” he murmured, kissing the top of your hair with such tenderness you almost agreed to get up and listen, but he was just so warm and cozy.

Pretending to not hear him, you put on your best sleeping face, mouth opening slightly to really pull it off, the tiniest of snores leaving you in a very convincing manner. Silence followed your antics before a rumble vibrated from the chest of the man you lied on, a soft laugh leaving him as he took in your ‘sleeping state’, a laugh that had your lips twitching, a smile almost breaking out on your face.

“What a shame.. the Mrs. has fallen asleep on me,” he sighed, voice filled with faux sorrow, and when he relaxed back into the chair, you thought the victory was yours, nuzzling back against his chest to comfortably relax again. That was.. before your world was turned upside down, a yelp echoing from your throat as Nanami hoisted you over his shoulder, your bottom cradled by his large hand as he smiled that stupid smile of his and trekked back into the bedroom, all fatigue gone from the two of you, replaced with the teasing air of aching want.

——————————————————————————

#nanami kento smut #nanami x fem!reader #jjk x fem!reader #jjk smut #nanami smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #jjk x reader #husband nanami #nanami kento fluff #nanami fluff #nanami jjk #i need him #GUYS GO LOOK AT HIS SMILE IN THE PREVIEW

5K notes · View notes

pandoraslxna · 8 months

Note

Lo’ak using visiting Spider as an excuse to come over and steal your panties to Jack off with later 🥴 he conditions himself thag your scent = getting off, and now he can’t jack off without them AND he has to hide his dick coming out of its sheath every time he gets too close to you

Addicted to you

adult Lo‘ak x female human reader

Words: 4.7k

Summary: The first time it happened, could be considered an accident. He didn’t mean to come over and steal your underwear, stuff it in his tweng and take it with him, like a dirty little secret. The second time however, was less an accident and more a strategic planned theft.

Warnings: explicit smut, perverted Lo‘ak being a little panty thief, masturbation, scent kink, slight somnophilia (with consent), childhood friends to lovers, fluff, mutual pining, reader is spiders sister, oral (f receiving), obsessive behavior, Lo’ak has retractable genitals

Translation:

Tweng = loincloth

Tanhì = star, bioluminescence freckle

Lo‘ak, by all means, is no pervert.

He’s not a freak, even if some small minded people had called him that before. But that’s because of his fingers, and not because of this.

It’s hard to explain how any of this has even started.

It’s just, you’ve always been there. Always running around with him and his siblings, playing in the mud and chasing each other through high branches of trees. Riding piggyback on his shoulders, letting Kiri braid your hair. Crying into Neteyams shoulder when you scratched your knee and then letting grandma take care of it. Sitting by the campfire together, baby Tuk in mums arms while dad tells them stories from earth, from the place you’ve never even been before, yet it’s where you come from. Originally. But to Lo‘ak, you’re all na‘vi. Just like Spider is all na‘vi.

You’ve always been there, small little tanhì. Until you’re not so small anymore. And Lo‘ak isn’t small anymore either.

When they come back, years after seeking oturu with the metkayina, his eyeballs almost pop out of their sockets at the sight of you.

Small little tanhì, he scoffs at the memories of his childhood friend. You’ve grown. Not much for Na’vi standards, still the size of Tuk when she was like 8, but Norm makes jokes about you and Spider not being kids anymore, so he assumes you must’ve reached your maximum height. How cute, he thinks. Lo‘ak however, well, Max says he’s making dad competition now. Almost choked on his coffee when he first saw him again. Apparently you must’ve realized the change in his physical appearance too, because you said stuff like the ocean did him good and giggled when you asked what they were feeding him over there, squeezing the muscles of his upper arm with your small hands.

Apart from your size, Lo‘ak was surprised to see you in human clothing. He assumes, and maybe that makes him a little sad but he would never admit that out loud, that after his family had to leave and Spider was also gone for a very long time, you barely had any reason left to visit the village, other than accompanying Norm and Max to the lab. So you ditched the loincloth for a pair of pants and a shirt. That however, doesn’t change how beautiful you are to his eyes. His little tanhì.

Luckily, that’s pretty much everything that has changed.

Funny enough, because that meant Spider still had to share a room with you now that he’s back. Neither of you are very pleased about this, but as long as he and the Sullys are finally home, none of you would openly complain about the temporary living situation, until Norm had moved some of his stuff out of his office so Spider could move in.

The room you and Spider share isn’t that big. Two beds, a window, a small desk and a wardrobe, that’s basically it. It’s even more cramped when a full grown Na’vi lays sprawled out on Spiders bed, but that doesn’t keep him from coming over every couple of days to hang around like he’s still a lazy teen.

Lo‘ak still can’t get over the sight of you running around in these human clothes. They’re odd. Even worse when you wear them, when you’ve changed so much and there’s so much more, so much new of you to see and now you’re hiding it from his gaze, underneath those entirely too long and plain looking fabrics.

Lo‘ak can barely peel his eyes off of you, swirling around the room with a woven basked on your hip, picking up stuff from the floor while simultaneously nagging at Spider to strip and— pause.

"Anything else?" You ask, taking the shirt that Spider had just worn to put it into the basked.

"Nope", he says, pronouncing the p with a little pop sound. Glancing around the room for the final time, you spot a pair of dirty socks in the far corner and as you bend down to pick them up, something seems to fall out of the basket that you don’t notice right away. Before Lo‘ak can react however, you’re already out of the door.

Sitting upright on the bed, Lo‘ak wants to reach for the tiny piece of fabric that you had lost, but then he’s interrupted again.

"Oh shit, I forgot to give her my tweng", Spider groans, pulling a woven cloth out from where it was sandwiched between the mattress and Lo‘aks butt. "I’ll be right back, bro." And then he basically sprints after you.

Chuckling to himself, Lo‘ak now finally gets to pick up what had fallen out of your basket.

It’s pink and small, looks like a triangle almost. Too small to be any kind of clothing. No, there’s really not much fabric on it. Strange, he thinks. He turns it in his hands and then spots a tiny, white ribbon on what he assumes must be the front, and now that he holds it like that…

It almost sends him off the edge at this very moment as he realizes— It’s underwear. Great mother, those are yours!

Lo‘ak almost passes out as he spots a tiny wet patch on the fabric. It makes something in him throb, knowing that your cunt was once pressed there, your sweet, sweet pussy rubbing and pressing against the soft cloth, while some of your juices leaked out and stained the material.

He swallows dryly.

Your clit must have rubbed on it, too, he thinks before he can even stop these thoughts from coming. And Lo‘ak, by all means, is definitely no pervert, but he can’t help but imagine the cute little nub dragging across the fabric, the nub that he just wishes he could wrap his lips around and slowly suck, watching as you writhe and cry out from the stimulation on your sensitive form.

Lo‘ak doesn’t know, can’t even explain it to himself as to what has driven him to his next move, but he then puts the fabric to his nose and, almost on instinct, inhales.

The very scent of your sex on the fabric makes his head spin and his cock stir to life.

Oh, how he loves your scent. That filthy, sinful scent on your panties, the lovely fragrance enhanced all around the cloth. With each trembling intake of your smell that his soul inhales, the harder his cock grows, until it finally unsheathes, bulging a tent into his now entirely too tight tweng.

The first time it happened, could be considered an accident. He didn’t mean to come over and steal your underwear, stuff it in his tweng and take it with him, like a dirty little secret.

The second time however, was less an accident and more a strategic planned theft.

Lo’ak now knows where to find them, knows that there’s a small woven basket in the far corner of your room, and if he lays on Spiders bed and stretches enough, he can just reach into it with his very fingertips. So when you and Spider are busy with something else, he so casually stretches his long limbs and grabs the first, black little slip he can reach, stuffs it in his tweng and then pretends that Neteyam is calling him through the throat comm or that he suddenly remembered he had stuff to do at the village or whatever reason is believable enough to hurry out of the door and hide somewhere in the forest.

Once his heart stopped pounding in his ears and his lungs stopped burning, Lo‘ak settles against a tree and pulls the small piece of fabric out of his tweng. Pretty black, cotton panties. Warm now, from rubbing against his skin on the way here. His hand twitches as he examines them in awe.

In all honesty, Lo‘ak really thought that the silly little childhood crush he once harbored for you was finally filtered out of his system after spending the first few nights at the metkayina village bawling his eyes out because he missed you so much. But no amount of other girls he tried to occupy himself with to forget you could change anything about those feelings that came rushing back to him like a tsunami, the very moment his eyes fell on you again, even after all those years apart. And now you’re all grown up, both of you are, and he’s not that awkward little guy anymore, had his fair share of girls to know how to talk to you, how to flirt and maybe even confess his feelings that could lead to something more, yet here he is. Cock throbbing in his palm with your slip pressed against his nose while he furiously jerks himself off to your scent. Like a pervert.

He was gritting his teeth as he stroked over his shaft, squeezing the light blue tip of his cock just right, forcing the very first droplets of pre-cum to form and spill over his knuckles. There’s a tightness, a warmth that swells inside him and it gets even worse when he inhales deeply, your scent filling his nostrils. His hand strokes faster, harder and he moans against the soft cotton.

Speeding up his movements, Lo‘aks hips were already bucking up to fuck into his fist. His imagination, those clear images in front of his minds eye, of your pussy dragging over the same spot he was rubbing his nose against were only egging him on more.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck", Lo‘ak was chanting curses as he felt the coil in his stomach threaten to snap. His head was thrown back in bliss, your underwear pressed tight to his nose and he couldn’t help but bite down on the fabric to stifle his moans when he finally came.

And suddenly Lo‘ak feels like he’s 14 again, blushing like an idiot whenever you’ve hugged him, not getting the words out when it was just the two of you together.

He was so head over heels for his little tanhì, that this seemed to be the only way to give him some temporary relief, until he would finally get his shit together and gather enough courage to ask you out.

But before this could even happen, things were already getting out of hand.

The first time might be an accident, the second time not so much, but the third, fourth, fifth … and then the tenth time— that’s when he realized this was growing into some strange form of addiction.

Of course he made sure you would never realize what a perverted friend he was, always making sure to rinse his cum and any stains out of the fabric before stuffing them back to the basket in your room, switching them out for a new pair. But not making you realize how perverted he actually was, that was easier said than done.

Naturally, all Na‘vi had a keen sense of smell. Lo‘ak had always been able to smell your natural scent when you were near. And in the beginning, just holding your used underwear in his hands got him hard, made his nose twitch, fingers itching to get them closer, bury his whole face in them and inhale. It was intoxicating.

But Lo‘ak didn’t even realize what he had done to himself, up to the point he came completely untouched for the first time, just from smelling them. That’s when it finally dawned on him. Your scent was enough to get him off. He had actually managed to condition himself to this– coming to your scent, not being able to come when he couldn’t smell you.

Oh, that was bad, he thought. That was really, really bad.

Even worse, because you’ve always been touchy with him. Always hugged him, held his hand, jumped into his arms. And Lo‘ak was so used to carrying you around on his shoulders or his back, that it would’ve been strange of him not to. So now here he was, again, suffering from the consequences of his own actions.

One of your soft, squishy thighs on either side of his shoulders, the back of his head snugly pressed between your thighs and his hands holding your ankles so you wouldn’t fall off as you wandered through the forest.

Normally, he’s a good listener. But he has long stopped listening to whatever you were talking about, now that your scent was so close to his nose that his cock was already pocking out of his sheath and Lo‘ak was slowly loosing every internal battle of trying to keep it in there until they had reached high camp.

Every time you giggled or laughed, Lo‘ak could feel the vibrations against his neck. He could feel every shift, every drag of your clothed cunt against his skin. The warmth radiating from your core, the softness of your thighs on either side of his head, while dainty fingers played with his braids.

Suddenly there’s tug on his braids and Lo‘ak damn near whimpers as you pull his hair to get his attention and— no, no, no you had to get off, you had to get away from him, because this is all too much.

"Lolo", it’s the silly nickname name you gave him as a child, the one that still makes his eyes roll because you used to tease him wit it. "Are you even listening? I asked you a—"

"Sorry it’s just, you– you’re getting kinda heavy, tanhì." Two hands grab your hips before you can even protest and there’s a look of utter confusion on your face, once your feet meet the ground again. Too heavy, Lo‘ak mentally slaps himself. He can lift you up with one hand, so who’s going to believe that?

You look at him with your brows knit tightly together, eyes narrowed to scan him up and down like you were trying and could actually see through him and fuck, his body was working against him in this moment, because the feeling of his own slick coating his cock as it slowly slid out of its protecting sheath sends a shiver up his spine.

"C‘mon let’s keep moving, we’re almost there", he hastily blurts out, leading the way now, hands clenching into fists at his side.

Lo‘ak tries to ignore that your scent still lingers heavy in the air, even as you walk behind him. He also tries to ignore how silent you had suddenly gotten, tries not to look back because he knows you‘ll look hurt or confused, or both, as to why he had suddenly decided to put distance between you and him –and called you heavy, on top of that.

The entire walk back to the village was filled with silence, and even though it felt heavy in his heart, it’s what he needed to calm himself, to make his cock soften and breathing even, to put his focus on something else other than the flowery sweet smell that’s walking just a few feet behind him.

It’s not hard to guess why he doesn’t see you the day after that. Spider visits high camp alone, says you’re out with Norm somewhere to gather ar'lek seeds so they can plant them in the small herb garden in hells gate. He knows that’s just partly the truth.

The next day, Lo‘ak doesn’t even wait for you to come over, or not. Spider spends the day with Kiri anyways, and maybe that’s his sign to finally get his ass up and do something about this whole fucked up situation, apologize for acting so weird and put an end to his strange addiction.

It’s already late in the afternoon when Lo‘ak reaches the human outpost camp. He taps the code into the small keypad on the front door of the facility, puts a respirator on and walks down the hallway. Several turns later and he finds himself at your door, knocks ever so lightly, it’s almost too light, before slowly opening the door, crouching under the frame and stepping inside.

The sight he’s met with definitely gets his knees a little weak.

You’re curled up on your side, your lashes are softly resting on your cheeks, lips slightly parted with quiet sighs of sleep falling from them. Your shirt has ridden up a bit, exposing your hips and stomach to him, blanket nowhere to be found. His gaze wanders over your body, the curve of your waist, down to your legs and eywa help him, you’re not wearing pants. All that’s covering you, are those pink panties that seem very familiar to him and fuck, if that doesn’t make him swallow hard because he just realized these are the ones he’s first taken from you. The ones he had completely soaked in his cum until he nearly passed out, shooting blanks from how many times he jerked off with them pressed to his nose and then wrapped around his cock once he had completed inhaled your scent off of them.

And now he has to hold himself back, because your deliciously sweet scent almost suffocates him the moment he settles to sit on the end of your bed.

He can’t help the way his hands move on their own, just a soft caress up and down your thigh. Completely harmless, he wants to make himself believe.

You hum in your sleep, eyebrows pinching together for a brief moment before you relax into his touch. It’s like your scent grows more intense the longer he strokes his warm palms over your exposed skin, running up your thigh, the curve of your hips. His fingertips trace the cotton fabric of your panties, hooks it under his finger, plays with it, before he runs his hands back down your legs.

Lo‘ak feels his body heat increase the longer he plays with you like this. Feels his sheath opening up, the tip of his cock teasing against the cloth of his tweng, the retraining tightness of trying to keep it in there. His tail curls like he’s in pain from holding himself back, and then your thighs spread into his hands, opening up like a pretty flower, subconsciously presenting yourself to him.

He knows he shouldn’t… but he can’t help it.

Swallowing hard, Lo‘ak kneels at the end of the bed. Careful as ever, he pulls you towards him, holds you open like a five course meal on a silver plate with both of his hands on the backside of your thighs. He nuzzles his nose against your skin, tenderly. Inhales, places soft kisses here and there, moves further to the inside of your leg. His nose never breaks contact to your skin, you just smell too good, he’s completely lost in it. Addicted.

His breathing soon turns into shallow pants of air, his mind growing dizzy and pupils dilated to the absolute max as he continues to scent you like a drug.

The content little, "Mmh…" followed by the arch of your back as you stretch yourself, hands coming up to rub the sleep in your eyes away, do little to faze him now, let alone stop him from what he was doing. It’s too late to stop anyway.

Glancing down on yourself, Lo‘ak feels your breath hitch in your throat in a shy little gasp, thighs trying to close shut, but his hands keep them in place.

"Lo‘ak?" You ask, face flushing red and for a moment he comes back to himself and his heart aches because he thinks he fucked up, crossed every possible boundary, ruined your friendship because he got too lost in his perversion– but then you bite your bottom lip and brush your dainty fingers through his hair, cradle the back of his head and pull him closer.

He grins.

Lo‘ak doesn’t break eye contact with you as he kisses your inner thigh, fangs grazing your skin before he sucks a small hickey right there. He kisses the purplish mark on your flesh before he moves further, eyes on yours before he presses his nose against the cotton fabric of your underwear. Your hips rise off the bed, impatiently bucking against his face and Lo‘ak groans.

"You smell so good, tanhì", he murmurs, nosing your clit, nudging the little nub until a whimper falls from your lips. "So sweet, I just… sorry, I had to."

A soft laugh draws his attention from your clit back to your face and he lifts his head up to properly look at you.

"Don’t apologize", you say, chest heaving, "I was waiting for the day you finally decide to make the first move." He smiles at this. And maybe he blushes a bit too, but there’s barely any time for you to see it, before his face is buried between your thighs again. He inhales sharply, letting your scent cloud his mind and then he presses a kiss to the outline of your clit, feeling it twitch beneath the thin fabric.

Hooking his fingers under the waistband, he tells you, "lift your hips for me", and as you do, he slides them off of your legs completely.

You watch his eyes darken with lust once you spread your thighs further for him, watch him part your folds with his thumbs almost tenderly, brushing over the little hood of your clit to get it into his direct view.

"Don’t tease", you then whisper and Lo‘ak thinks, if only you knew how much he was holding himself back right now. "I would never", he chuckles, and you squeak when he grabs your thighs and pulls you closer, bends your legs so your knees are almost touching your ears.

Flattening his tongue, he then licks a board stripe from your dripping entrance up to your clit, and oh tanhì, you’re making even the sweetest fruit competition. Lo‘ak groans, loud and shamelessly, once your slick juices run over his tastebuds like sweet nectar. Your hips jolt, moans spilling from your mouth as he closes his lips around the little nub of pleasure and sucks, hard.

You gasp sharply, hands fisting his hair tighter and mindlessly tugging as your thighs snap close around his head.

"O-Ohh god, fuck, Lo‘ak", you moan, back arching to get his mouth closer to you and Lo‘ak thinks it’s adorable. You’re panting, gasping and moaning like you can’t believe how good he’s making you feel.

Between your thighs, you hear him hum at your taste, your clit drags against his nose and those puffy lips, while he slurps your slick like he’s starving.

A glance up at you reveals that you’re staring sightlessly at the ceiling, slack-jawed and dazed, and Lo‘ak feels a surge of amusement and affection. So cute, looking almost as sweet as you taste on his tongue.

While sucking on your clit earned him the most of a reaction from you, he more often switched to sticking his tongue into your clenching hole as far as he could reach– which was deep, considering the proportions of a Na‘vi compared to a human. Like this, he could perfectly smooch the flat of his nose against the little nub that made you cry out, could smell you at the same time he was tasting you and that combination made something in him twist into a tight knot, daring to snap at any moment.

"Lo’ak, Lo’ak, oh– holy shit, Lo’ak", you moaned his name like a prayer, and the sound of it was send straight to his cock that had fully unsheathed itself by now. It throbbed heavily, pre-cum soaking his tweng and bringing friction to the sensitive tip once he’s started humping the air, hips bucking and thrusting, searching for more.

There’s nothing he wants more than to bring a hand down to his cock, get rid of the loincloth and start stroking himself, fuck his fist if necessary, anything to get the edge off. But his hands can’t, don’t, want to move. They’re perfectly comfortable where they are, holding your thighs, spreading you wide open while he devours you. He can’t bring himself to do anything other than grind his face against your pussy hungrily, tongue gliding through your folds, sucking and slurping and kissing until tears prick at the corner of your eyes.

"Lo, I’m close", you whimper, hands tugging harder on his braids and he loves it. "I’m- I think I’m coming. Please. Please don’t stop!"

And stopping is the last thing that’s on his mind.

Your tiny hole clenches around the tongue that’s thrusting in and out of you, and Lo‘ak can’t help but imagine how you’d feel around his cock. He wants to, he really fucking wants to split you open on it, bend you in every possible position and feel your tight walls clamping down on him. But this right here is his priority. He wants you crying out and coming on his tongue, wants to drown in your slick and inhale your scent for a good while longer before he can stuff you full of his cock.

"Yeah? You’re gonna come, tanhì?", he mumbles against your clit and your hips buck against his mouth, desperately searching for more. "Come for me then, c’mon. Let me taste you, give it to me."

"Uh-huh", you nod frantically, lifting your head up to look at him. Your hands tug on his braids, guiding him back to where you needed it most and Lo‘ak gladly complied your order. And then your hips were rising off the bed, and you nearly sobbed as you chanted, "m’coming, m’coming– oh– fuck!"

Your hold on his hair loosens just as everything below your waist tightens.

The sounds that were reaching his ears were a combined chorus of groans and high-pitched whimpers coming from both of you. While Lo‘ak feasted on your arousal, his tweng got equally as soaked in his cum than his face got soaked in yours.

You like the way that the gold in his eyes seems to glow up at you from between your legs, when you manage to pick your head up and look down at him. You like the way that his fingers dig into your skin as a stern reminder for you to stay there, and you like the way that his tongue continues to lave at you, despite the trembling of your legs.

The expanse of his tongue drags methodically against your cunt one last time, gathering your taste like he means to savor it. Then, his head raises, all glistening lips and prideful eyes, his hands sliding up your sides to hook around your waist.

"Holy fuck", you exhale a shaky breath. "Lolo, what the hell, where did that just come from?" You laugh in disbelief, a bit more than just breathless from the intense orgasm, and Lo‘ak chuckles with you, crawling onto the bed to settle himself between your thighs.

"Don’t call me that childish name when I just made you come on my tongue, tanhì", he purrs into your ear, grinning, and the feel of his canine grazing your ear sends a shiver up your spine. Lo’ak then nuzzles his face into the crook of you neck, pressing his weight down on you and if it weren’t for the uncomfortable slick and sticky feeling between your thighs, you could actually enjoy this.

"Can you give me my underwear", you whisper, blushing, "please."

"No", Lo‘ak tells you ever so nonchalantly, face still buried against your skin. Your brows furrow and you can’t help but laugh, "What– Why?"

"I‘m keeping them", he says, "As a little souvenir."

Hearing that, makes a completely new wave of heat wash over you, lightening up your cheeks in crimson red.

"Perv", you mutter quietly, a smile tugging at your lips.

"Hmh, yes I am. But you also can’t have them back because…"

Theres a pause, two arms snake around your middle and hug you tight, before he rolls over and drags you with him. You gasp at the sudden change of position, now straddling his stomach with him laying flat on your bed. Rising a brow, you look at him, waiting. Lo‘aks hands then grab you by the waist and he pulls you up in one fluid movement, your hands fly up to catch yourself just in time, both of them on the headboard of your bed now as your core hovers only mere inches from his face.

His breath his warm on your skin, sending goosebumps all over your body as it fans over the slick covering your inner thigh. Licking his lips, he grins up at you, the hunger in his eyes evident, as he says,

"Because I’m not done with you yet, tanhì."

6K notes · View notes

brown-bi-beautiful · 10 months

Text

Night After Night

Established relationship au

Pairing: Fuckboy bf! Jungkook x Reader

MINORS DNI

Genre: lovers to exes to exes to lovers, Mostly crack, fluff, and smut but a little bit of angst because I'm a bitch.

Words : 17.6k

Summary: "Show you what devotion is, deeper than the ocean is".... You broke up with your boyfriend because he couldn't let go of his fuckboy antiques now he's gonna win you back whatever it takes.

Warnings: Toxic relationships, Jungkook is the biggest red flag but we love him, SMUT [ ITS FILTHYYY, FINGERING, ORAL SEX (Both receiving), PENETRATIVE SEX ( Vaginal), UNPROTECTED SEX (Don't be stupid like Jungkook, please)].

A/n: This is unedited, no proof reading done.

*******

For the thousandth time this evening, you couldn't help but roll your eyes as you witnessed your boyfriend, once again, openly flirting with another girl in your presence. It wasn't as if he was unaware of your presence, and he wasn't doing it secretly behind your back either. He knew very well that you were right there, and the irony was that he was supposed to fetch you a drink when he stumbled upon a pair of boobs on the way.

'Baby, it will be fun,' he had said when he insisted on taking you to this party. Yet now, you found yourself sitting awkwardly on a filthy couch, uncomfortably witnessing two guys passionately making out while your so-called boyfriend indulged in flirting with the brunette, who had her hands all over his biceps. You could bet a million dollars that he was flexing them right now.

When you first met Jungkook in your college, he had the title of the biggest fuckboy of the campus and a snap score of 3 million, yes 3 million and if that's not the biggest red flag then what is? But despite the fuckboy behaviour he was a decent person. After trying (and succeeding) to get in your pants at the frat party you first met, he asked you out on a date. And of course you said yes. He gave you the full date experience, in fact it was one of the best dates you had in a while.

He took you to the movies and was respectful, keeping his hands to himself throughout the outing. During the date, he took care of you, ensuring you were well-fed and enjoyed yourself. Afterward, he even made the extra effort to drive you home in his own car, instead of that death ride he usually brings to college. He was so determined to show you that it wasn't just about sex that he didn't even insist on kissing you at your door, it was you who dragged him inside by his collar to fuck you senseless.

Jungkook surprised you, everyone else and himself when he asked you to be his girlfriend only after three dates. And he was really really sweet so you said yes. To show you how devoted he was to you and how he only had eyes for you he didn't even look at other girls let alone flirt with. But that only lasted for two months. Yes, once a fuckboy always a fuckboy. Although Jungkook remained faithful and never slept with anyone else or outright cheated on you, he still indulged in flirting and entertaining any other woman he found even remotely attractive.

Initially, you tried to dismiss it as harmless flirting, but as time went on, the situation became increasingly unbearable. The only thing preventing you from ending the relationship was the fact that he genuinely loved you. Jungkook proclaimed his love for you just three months into the relationship, whereas it took you more than six months to reciprocate those feelings.

You knew Jungkook loved you because he never failed to show you. God, the extremities that boy has gone to show you how much he loves you. One time he ran 12 miles to get to you because you sprained your ankle and was in the hospital and his car was stuck in traffic. Later he ended up fainting from exertion and you found yourself taking care of him instead. It was still really sweet gesture from him.

Once Jungkook managed to free himself from the other girl's company and arrived with a big smile and your favorite beer in hand, you promptly got up and headed towards the front door, leaving your boyfriend behind in confusion.

"Where are you going?" Jungkook asked, following you outside.

"Home." You were already ordering an uber.

"We are leaving already?"

"No, Jungkook. I am leaving already."

"But why? We were having fun."

"Again, no. You were having fun, I was just asked by two guys if I wanted to have a threesome."

"What guys?" Oh the hypocrisy.

"That's not the point JK," you finally snapped, turning to confront your boyfriend. "You're the one who dragged me to this pathetic party, and instead of being there with me, you spent 20 minutes flirting with some random chick."

"Baby, you know that was harmless."

"Again with that FUCKING EXCUSE."

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry, ok? You know I only have eyes for you. I don't even remember her name."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better? I'm leaving."

"Let me take you home, ok?"

"I already booked a ride."

"No, those things are dangerous at night. I'm not letting you leave in a cab," he insisted, without waiting for your reply he led you to the parking lot where his Harley was parked. Without any further protests, you let him firmly place your helmet on your head. Within just a month of dating, Jungkook had already arranged customised helmets for both of you as a couple. Though it might have seemed a bit tacky to some, it was his way of expressing a significant commitment, almost like a symbol of marriage in his eyes.

The ride was silent. Only him rubbing your thighs once in a while. You had time to think the whole ride. Contemplate every situation till now that has led up to this moment. Every time that he had flirted with other women and made you feel like shit, invisible. Every time he says 'oh but baby, at the end of the day I come back to you.' You have decided. You were done feeling like shit.

As the motorcycle came to a halt, you realized he had brought you to his place instead of your own. While you hadn't officially moved in together, it felt like you practically had, given the amount of time you spent there and the belongings you had at his place. The fact that he took you there didn't even surprise you; it was a place that felt like 'home' to both of you.

"Jungkook why'd you take me to your place. I said take me home."

"This is home, baby." He said helping you off his bike and taking off both of your helmets. "Let's just go upstairs and talk this out, then I'll make you cum and we'll go to sleep."

The short elevator ride to the upstairs apartment felt much longer, with neither of you uttering a word. As you entered and took off your jackets, you let out a sigh. The impending conversation was something you had been dreading, but you knew there was no other option; it had to be done. The atmosphere was heavy with tension as you prepared to address the issues that had been bothering you.

"Jungkook."

"Baby." He mocked your tone.

"Sit down." You pointed at the couch.

"Is this an intervention?" He asked with a grin.

"Just sit." He followed your order and stared at you with those big doe eyes that stopped you from breaking up with him until now. "I love this POV. Your tits look amazing."

"Jungkook, be serious."

"Why, do you keep calling me Jungkook. It's Koo and Baby for you."

Ignoring the comment you continued with your speech.

"Jungkook... I, I don't think this is working anymore." You said.

"What is not working? Baby, we're fine."

"No we're not. I've been waiting for you to grow out of this...fuckboy phase but it's been three years, Jungkook and you still haven't changed. It's even worse now."

"Come on, is this about Ally?"

"So you do remember her name."

"Does it matter? It was just some harmless flirting, I swear. I even told her I have a girlfriend."

"Oh, I'm so flattered," you retorted, the sarcasm evident in your voice, which seemed to annoy him slightly. Your frustration and displeasure were clear, as you couldn't overlook the impact of his behavior on your feelings.

"Look, what am I supposed to do? Stop talking to women? Is that what you want?"

"Oh my god, do you not see?" you exclaimed, your emotions pouring out. "You entertain them and flirt with them, and it makes me feel terrible, Jungkook. I'm your girlfriend, yet you don't even bother to introduce me to these women. And you call it harmless flirting? What about this?" You pulled out a piece of paper from his front pocket, confronting him with evidence of his actions.

"I had no idea she slipped it in my pocket."

"I saw you take it from her."

"But I was not going to call. I swear, baby. You know I would never. I only took that so-"

"So what? So she would wait around the whole night for you to call? That's even worse."

"Babe, look. I'm sorry. I'll do anything you want me to do. I made a mistake and I won't do it again, I promise. I swear on it."

"You don't have to. You can call her if you want to. We are done here," you declared firmly, your decision made. His eyes widened in response to your decisive words, realizing the gravity of the situation.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I'm breaking up with you, Jungkook. It's just not working for me anymore. I'm so tired of your behavior," you expressed with a heavy heart. He was now on his knees before you, tears welling up in his eyes but not yet streaming down his cheeks. Despite the pain, you knew that ending the relationship was the best decision for your well-being and emotional health.

"No no, baby, no. We are not breaking up."

"No. Jungkook we're done."

"No."

"What do you mean no? This is not how it works."

"I'll be better, ok? I promise. Please don't break up with me. I can't live without you. Please. I'll do anything you want. I'll prove it to you." The tears were falling down now. And as much as it hurt to watch him cry you were going to stand firm on your decision. "Let me make it up to you, baby. Please." When his shaking lips made contact with yours you couldn't push him away. One last time wouldn't hurt right? Maybe you'll give him this one last time. God knows he needed this. You needed this.

So you let him. Didn't stop him when he picked you up and took you to yo- his bedroom, Laid you down on his bed, undressed you. You didn't stop him when he kissed down your body, brought you to your high with his mouth. You let him love you one last time.

******

Breaking up with Jungkook had been difficult, and it's been a week since then. The impact of the breakup weighed heavily on you as well, despite your decision being the right one. You cared deeply for him, though maybe not to the same extreme extent as he did for you, it seemed his love for you bordered on being overly intense and possibly unhealthy.

The breakup had also left you feeling deeply saddened and missing him greatly. However, the impact on Jungkook was even more profound, and describing it as devastating would be an understatement. The next day, as you began getting ready to leave, you noticed Jungkook gazing at you with a lost and vulnerable expression, like a bewildered bunny. It was heartbreaking to witness, and you had to gently remind him that you had broken up with him the night before. The pain of the breakup was evident in his eyes, and it made the situation even more challenging for both of you.

"But, baby we had sex."

"Sex doesn't fix everything, Jungkook. I'm still breaking up with you. It was goodbye sex."

Jungkook was frantic when he realised you were serious about the breakup. Begged you to stay but you had already made up your mind.

Seeing the overwhelming number of missed calls and text messages from your ex-boyfriend, you let out a sigh. Despite the breakup, he was persistently trying to reach out to you, with all the messages saying almost the same thing. While you believed that blocking someone was immature and didn't want to stoop to that level, his relentless badgering was becoming too much to handle. If he continued this behavior, you might eventually have no choice but to block him on your contacts and social media platforms.

As your phone blared for the 58th time, your coworkers shot glares in your direction, clearly annoyed by the constant interruptions. Feeling apologetic, you flashed them a smile and finally picked up the phone.

"I swear to god, Jungkook. I will block you if you don't stop calling me."

"Baby-"

"No, Jungkook. No baby. We broke up remember?"

"You broke up with me, I never accepted it. You're still my baby."

"Jungkook I'm serious. Stop calling me. I will block you."

"You won't."

"Try me."

"Come outside?"

"What? Kook, I'm not home."

"I know. I'm outside your office. They won't let me in."

"Yes I told them not to. What are you doing here? Jungkook you have a job too, you know that right?"

"I know. But it's not important right now."

"Not important right now? That's your only source of income." You reminded him, resting your forehead on your hand.

"I don't care. What will I do with the money if you're not with me?"

"Pay your bills?"

"Come outside. I wanna see you."

"I can't. I already had my lunch break. Look, Jungkook, just go back home, ok? Don't do this to yourself. I'm hanging up. Don't call me again or I will block you." You ended the call without waiting for a reply, and the calls finally stopped, but the messages persisted. Deciding it was necessary for your peace of mind, you muted his contact to temporarily shield yourself from the continuous messages.

It was 4 hours later you were exiting the office building with your coworkers when one of them pointed something out.

"Is that Jungkook?" Sherry said and you turned your attention to where she was pointing, and to your surprise, there was Jungkook sitting on one of the benches just outside the building. He stood up with a hopeful smile and waved at you as you approached. His unexpected appearance caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions at seeing him again after the breakup.

"You guys go. I'll talk to him."

As your coworkers questioned if you were okay, you gave a simple nod to reassure them. However, you couldn't hide the glare in your eyes as Jungkook approached you. The mix of emotions inside you was evident, but you tried your best to maintain composure in front of your colleagues.

"What are you still doing here, Kook?"

"Well you told me not to call you again and your guard wouldn't let me in so I had no other option."

"Yes you did. You had the option to go home."

"But I wanted to see you." Oh god it was frustrating. You are not even surprised that he's acting like a child. He has always been like this, nagging and pestering until you give him what he wants. You are actually more surprised by the fact that he waited a whole week before showing up at your workplace.

"So what you just wait here for 4 hours?"

"No .. 8 hours. I've been here since morning."

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?"

"No. Ask your guards. We are friends now." You closed your eyes to calm yourself.

You spoke with concern in your voice, realizing that Jungkook's actions were not healthy for him. "Jungkook, this is not healthy… Why are you doing this to yourself?" you asked, genuinely worried about the toll the breakup was taking on him. You understood that he was struggling with the situation, but his continuous attempts to contact you were not helping anybody.

"Baby, I'll do anything to prove to you that I want you back."

You expressed firmly, "That's not going to change anything. We are not getting back together." You reiterated your stance, hoping he would come to accept it and eventually find a way to move forward.

"You're saying that now."

"No. My answer is not going to change." He looked unconvinced. "At least tell me you ate something?" a small smile crept across your face as you heard his stomach loudly grumble in response to your question. You decided to set aside your differences momentarily and focus on making sure he was okay in the present moment.

"You still care about me?" Of course you still cared about him. You didn't break up with him because you don't love him anymore, you broke up because he was an asshole and you realised he was never going to change. And you have to keep reminding yourself that. He's never going to change.

"Where's your bike?"

"I didn't bring it. I don't like riding without you holding me."

"Did you bring your car at least?"

"I walked."

"You walked?"

"I figured that when you come back to me, we'd have to deal with the hassle of taking both of our cars back home and riding separately, which I didn't want to go through. So, I decided to walk instead."

"You're unbelievable." He just smiled at you as if it was a compliment. All you wanted was to go home, miss him to death and cry yourself to sleep while holding his old shirt. Was it too much to ask?

His stomach grumbled again. As if asking you to feed him. Jungkook knew he was not only torturing himself but you as well. Was this his strategy? Annoy you back in his arms?

"Fine. Let's go?"

"Are you taking me home?"

"No. I'm taking you to eat something."

"Then you're taking me home so I can fuck some sense into you and we can get past this?"

"You know what? I'm leaving. Die starving."

"No I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please feed me."

Despite your current feelings of frustration and hurt towards Jungkook, you chose to bring him to your home that night. It wasn't for any romantic reasons or to give in to his demands. Instead, you prepared a home-cooked meal for him, knowing that he likely hadn't been eating well, surviving on ramen, cereal, and a whole lot of alcohol. And you couldn't let him go to sleep hungry, so you set aside your emotions and cared for him, making sure he had a satisfying and enjoyable meal.

*******

"You know you can't take him back right? He's very toxic for you."

On that Sunday evening, you and your best friend, Jimin, had a movie night planned to lift your spirits. The hot topic of discussion was none other than Jeon Jungkook. Unlike the rest of your friends from college who always cheered for your relationship with Jungkook, Jimin was the only one who never rooted for you two. He had always expressed his concerns about Jungkook, labeling him as toxic, and reminding you that you deserved better. Back in college, you used to get upset with him, feeling he was always negative. Ironically, as time passed, you realized that Jimin was the only one who consistently stuck by your side, while your other friends became distant.

"I know I know. But you should have seen his face, Jimin. I felt like I kicked a puppy."

"So you just took him back to your place?"

"Only to feed him, I kicked him out after, I swear."

"Really?" Jimin asked, keenly observing the guilty expression on your face. He had an uncanny ability to detect when you were lying, almost like a human lie detector. You knew you couldn't hide anything from him, and in this moment, you couldn't escape his discerning gaze.

"Ok, fine, He did stay longer than I initially said," you admitted, knowing that Jimin could see through your attempt to hide the whole truth. His raised eyebrow made it clear that he was onto you. You confessed, knowing you couldn't keep anything from your perceptive friend. "We might have had sex on the kitchen counter... And the couch... And my bedroom. But I swear that's it. I'm not lying, I kicked him out and told him it was a mistake right after. Didn't even wait till morning."

The way Jimin said your name almost made you hide out of shame. "You can't retaliate. What happened to 'we are never getting back together'? Taylor Swift will be very disappointed in you."

"I know. I know, it was wrong. It was just a moment of weakness. I swear to god it won't happen again."

Feeling guilty and conflicted after Jungkook left, you realized he might have misunderstood, thinking there was still a chance but you were still determined to not give him another one. You knew you shouldn't have done what you did that night but God did it feel good. You knew for a fact that Jungkook had already ruined you sexually for any other men or your hands or even your vibrator. You tried doing it three times after breaking up with him but not once could you bring yourself to orgasm. You just gave up after the third time, just accepted the fact that you're not going to have an orgasm ever again. People live without having orgasms right?

That is why, when Jungkook stood so close to you last night, your body seemed to betray your intentions, and you found it hard to resist him. The lingering emotions and history between you both created a pull that was difficult to ignore.

As you cleaned up the kitchen after feeding Jungkook, you hoped he would leave soon. Knowing his tendencies, you knew he would try to sneak into your bed if you went to sleep while he was still there. So, you waited for the right moment to gather enough courage to kick him out. However, Jungkook had different plans in mind. Sneaking up behind you, he cornered you against the kitchen island, catching you by surprise. The close proximity left you heavy breathed and questioning your own decision.

In the heat of the moment, everything felt like a blur, and you couldn't recall who initiated the first move or who kissed whom first. It all happened so quickly. One second he was thanking you for the dinner, and the next, he was kissing you passionately, pulling you into the moment so deeply that you momentarily forgot about the complexities of your situation. You only remember how you were so desperate that neither of you even bothered undressing completely before he thrusted deep into you on that kitchen counter. You only remember cumming as he carried you to the couch and you rode him there. You only remember him slowly laying you down on your bed and making love to you.

"You're right, Jimin. I need to be stronger. I can't let him get to me like this. You know what? Next time, I'm not even going to look at his way if he shows up."

"Yes, that's the spirit. Ignore him like all those times he ignored you while flirting with that girl from the boba place." The expression of your face immediately turned sour after hearing his words. "I'm sorry. Too soon?" You only nodded in response.

"I can't believe I kept giving him chances after chances for so long. I should've listened to you in the first place; guys like Jungkook never change," you admitted, feeling regretful for not heeding Jimin's advice earlier. Reflecting on the past, you realized that you had been hopeful that Jungkook would change, but now you understood that some people's behaviors remain consistent despite the chances they are given.

"It's still not too late." As if on cue, there were a series of knocks on your front door, and you knew all too well who it was. The familiarity of Jungkook's knocking left you feeling a mix of emotions. Gosh, was it pathetic that you could tell Jungkook from the way he knocks? "Did you order something?" Jimin asked, raising an eyebrow as he noticed the look on your face.

"No. It's Jungkook."

"How do you know."

"I know." The knocks grew more impatient.

"Should we not open the door?"

"No. Let's ignore him." You said turning up the volume of your tv.

"Baby, did you change the locks? My key's not working." Instead of asking Jungkook to give back your keys you had settled for the less agonizing option and got your locks changed.

"Let's just pretend that we're not home," you suggested to your best friend. Hoping to avoid any confrontation, you both waited until the knocks finally stopped after what seemed like five minutes. Relieved, you thought your plan had worked, and you both resumed watching the movie. Unbeknownst to you, your ex-boyfriend had other plans and was determined to come inside some other way if you didn't let him in.

Jungkook had never been one to give up easily, whether it was in sports, academics, or winning back his girlfriend. He was determined to do whatever it took to have you back in his arms. Realizing his mistakes, he was now ready to redeem himself. Jungkook had heard about grand romantic gestures that people used to prove their love, and he was determined to do the same for you. Some people run through airports to stop the love of their life, while others write a hundred letters to confess their love. In Jungkook's case, he was willing to risk his life and climb seven floors to reach you, showing the depth of his determination to make things right.

Both you and Jimin were startled as the silence was broken by loud knocks on your bedroom window. The sudden sound startled both you and Jimin as you looked at each other thinking the other might have the answer.

"Is that-?" Jimin couldn't even finish his sentence before you swiftly got up and ran towards your bedroom. It was indeed Jungkook hanging outside your bedroom window.

"Oh my god, Jungkook, are you fucking kidding me?" You quickly opened the windows, concerned that he might fall and get seriously hurt. Jimin followed you to your bedroom and raised his eyebrows at the scene in front of him. You were screaming at Jungkook while he tried to explain himself, hanging from the window.

"This is what I've always been talking about," you continued in frustration, "You always act like a fucking child, doing ridiculous things to get your way. It's just ridiculous. You can't always get whatever you want by pulling stunts like this. You could seriously get injured, you seem to have no regard for yourself or anyone else. I'm so fuc-"

"Dude, what the hell are you doing?"

"None of your business. I want to talk to my girlfriend."

"Ex girlfriend."

"I said none of your business."

"Seriously, what the hell are you doing?" This time it was you asking, exasperated, as Jungkook continued to hang from the flimsy pipe outside your window. The precarious situation he put himself in only added to your frustration and concern.

"You weren't opening the door, what was I supposed to do?"

"NOT CLIMB UP THE FUCKING WALL LIKE A CREEP?"

"Can I please come in now? I don't think I can hold on to this pipe much longer." You and Jimin quickly helped the boy inside.

"Chim, can you please wait outside? I need to talk to him," you requested, and Jimin obliged, but not before warning Jungkook not to try anything or he would kick his ass. Jimin might have been smaller than your ex in size but damn that man can fight. With Jimin gone, you turned your attention back to Jungkook, ready to confront him about his reckless behavior and demand some answers.

"Care to explain yourself?"

"Baby, I miss you. So fucking much. You have no idea."

"This is insane. You have to know you're crossing a line, Jungkook. Not only are you acting like a fucking child, you're also putting your own life in danger."

"I know, I know I'm acting crazy. But how else do I show you how much you mean to me."

"Jungkook, if I meant to you that much you wouldn't make me feel like a shit in the first place."

"And I am sorry about that. I promise to be better, I wouldn't look at another woman ever again."

"Do you realize how many times we've had this conversation? It's too many, Jungkook," you expressed, "You always say the same things, but then you repeat the same mistakes all over again. I can't keep going back to you; it's just not healthy for either of us," you firmly stated, making it clear that you were determined to break this cycle and move on from the relationship.

"Baby, pl-" he walked closer to you only for you to back away.

"And you need to stop acting like this. You can't always act on impulse, you could've seriously hurt yourself."

"It's nothing. It's not that high anyway."

"It's seven floors."

"Actually, 8. I miscalculated, and well, you might wanna avoid Mrs. Katz for a while," Jungkook admitted with a hint of amusement in his voice. Despite the seriousness of the situation, you couldn't help but laugh a little at his confession. Oh how much he had missed your laugh, he has always told you that you have the most beautiful laugh he has ever heard and to go without hearing it for more than a week? It's just torture.

"You have to leave."

"At least let-"

"No. Jungkook please, I can't do this. Not right now. You have to go," you said running your hands through your hair. "I miss you too, I really do. You have to understand that this is hard for me as well. And you doing all these things is not making anything easier. So please, for me, just leave." A single drop of tear fell down your left eye, you didn't have it in you anymore to back away as he walked toward you.

"Fine, I'll go now. But I won't stop," he declared, stopping right in front of you. "I won't stop until you realize that you're the one that I want. I won't stop until I convince you that you're the one for me, and I love you more than anything in this world. I'm not giving up on you, on us, baby. I don't care how long it takes, I'll beg you every day if I have to, but I won't stop until you come back to me."

His words were sincere, and you could see the determination in his eyes. A part of you desperately wanted to give in, to feel his embrace again, but you were also afraid. Afraid of going through the same cycle, afraid of getting hurt again. The conflict between your heart and mind was tearing you apart as you stood there, facing the man you still loved, but uncertain of what to do next.

He leaned closer, and you instinctively closed your eyes, expecting a kiss, but instead, you felt a light brush of his lips against your forehead. His touch was gentle, his thumbs wiping away your tears, and his lips seemingly kissing the tension away. He stayed like that for a few seconds, leaving you with mixed emotions as he showered you with affection. And with that, he left, not sparing a glance at the man in your living room. As he walked away, you couldn't help but feel a whirlwind of emotions, torn between the love you still held for him and the need to protect yourself from potential heartache.

Like a good friend, Park Jimin didn't ask you any questions. He simply held you close, providing a comforting embrace as you sniffed against his chest all night.

*******

It's been almost a week since that conversation you had with Jungkook in your bedroom, and it's now apparent that you have a stalker. He's been following you around like a lost puppy for the better part of the week. At first, it was annoying, and you had frequent arguments with him about his behavior. But as the days passed, you've grown somewhat accustomed to his presence. Now, you mostly ignore him as he follows you around the city, giving him only the occasional side-eye before continuing with your daily routine.

Jungkook's constant presence has become both annoying and puzzling. You're not sure how he manages to track your every move or who leaked your information to him, but he seems to be everywhere. If you were riding the subway he was there sitting across you, if you were in a bar with your friends he was there scaring away all the guys that approached you, even when you were on office lunches he was sitting two tables away smiling at you. If it was anyone else it would have been creepy and you would hand them to the police but with Jungkook, sure it was annoying but also... Cute?

Sometimes he approaches you to say something or brings you flowers, while other times he simply waves at you from a distance or quietly observes you while you talk to your friends at a restaurant, much like he is doing now.

"Not to alarm you or anything but there's a really really hot but kinda creepy guy has been following us for 20 minutes now, I'm guessing more but I have only noticed him for 20," Mia was new in the city and in your office, she was also one of your only colleagues who has never seen Jungkook or didn't know who he was. Today you have taken Mia out for lunch and to show her around the city like she so politely asked you a few days ago.

"Don't look right now, but he's standing across the street, and he's looking right at you," Mia whispered, her tone laced with concern. "Should we lead him to the police station?"

Her words of concern brought a chuckle from you, which seemed to confuse Mia. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on you, as Jungkook's persistent presence had become a bizarre and somewhat amusing part of your daily life. While Mia saw him as a potential threat, you couldn't help but find his actions, however creepy they might be, somewhat endearing. You assured Mia that you could handle the situation and that there was no need to involve the police.

You turned around to see Jungkook holding a roughly wrapped bundle of sunflowers and waving at you as soon as your eyes met. Of course you didn't bother to wave back.

"Don't worry, he's... he's harmless."

"Do you know that guy?"

"Yeah... Well it wouldn't sound very good if I say it. He's my ex boyfriend."

"Oh my god. Is he stalking you? Shouldn't you report him or something?"

"Oh no, no. Like I said, Jungkook is very harmless. To others… Very harmful for himself, though," you added with a mix of concern and amusement as Jungkook clumsily ran to cross the street, narrowly avoiding getting hit by a car in the process.

As you and Mia continued walking, she looked back and forth between you and Jungkook, clearly unsure of how to react in this unusual situation. You could understand her confusion, as dealing with Jungkook's persistent presence was not something you had ever expected to be a part of your daily routine.

Jungkook finally spoke up when he got closer, saying, "I know you saw me."

"Then you must know that I'm ignoring you."

"You look gorgeous." The simple compliment caused a blush to creep up from your neck, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of warmth in response to Jungkook's words.

"I know."

"Babe, talk to me. Then I won't bother you the whole day. I promise." Jungkook's plea made you stop in your tracks, and even the girl beside you seemed surprised by your response, as you decided to give him a moment to talk.

"Fine. Talk," you said, crossing your arms over your chest, clearly signaling your skepticism but still willing to hear him out.

"Uhhh..." Jungkook hesitated, caught off guard by your willingness to listen. He struggled to find the right words, unsure of what to say beyond the usual apologies and expressions of missing you.

"These are for you." He said offering you the sunflowers. "You love them."

"You remember that?" It was surprising honestly, you weren't expecting Jungkook to remember some minute detail you mentioned in the passing.

What's more surprising is that Jungkook's eyes not once has drifted to the girl standing awkwardly beside you. To simply say that Mia was beautiful would be the understatement of the century. She was one of the most gorgeous women you've ever laid eyes on and had the body of a goddess. Honestly she made you doubt your sexuality for a second so the fact that Jungkook didn't even spare a glance at her was really surprising. Probably because he knows you'd be watching him like a hawk if he did but still, it's progress right?

"I do."

"By the way, this is Mia. My new colleague. Mia, this is Jungkook, my boyfrie...ex-boyfriend," you corrected yourself, catching Jungkook's reaction as his face seemed to brighten momentarily at your slip.

"I would say nice to meet you if you weren't being creepy and stalking us."

"He wasn't stalking us," you said, feeling a sudden urge to defend Jungkook, even though you were trying to keep your distance from him. "Stalking is a form of harassment, and I do not feel even slightly harassed by this man. He knows me and he wanted to talk to me, so he followed me here. You have no right to call him a stalker." Both Jungkook and Mia seemed taken aback by your strong defense of him.

"Oh I'm sorry. I didn't know-"

"It's okay. Actually, there's the restaurant. I already made a reservation under my name. You should go in; I'll catch up with you in a sec," you said and Mia gave you a polite smile before walking towards the restaurant. As she left, you turned back to Jungkook and noticed his gaze fixed on you. There was no ogling of her ass as she walked away. Progress, you thought to yourself.

"What are you smiling at?"

"I love you." He said giving you those lovestruck puppy eyes.

"Shut up."

"You really do look gorgeous today," Jungkook said, and you couldn't help but look down at your simple outfit—a plain beige shirt and brown work pants. He thinks you look gorgeous in this boring ass outfit? You didn't think there was anything special about it. "You really do," he insisted. "I'm not just saying it to kiss up to you."

"What do you wanted to talk about?" you asked, brushing off his compliment and getting back to the point.

"You left some stuff at the apartment. They seem important. If you want I can bring them back to your place... or you can come by. Anytime." Your heart did drop a little. He wants you to pick your stuff up from his apartment? What happened to I'll try as long as it takes? Sure you're planning on getting those back anyway but hearing him say that... hurts a little.

"I can come pick them up. If you're around tonight. I'll also bring your key, I still have it." Why did saying it felt so official?

"Yeah cool..."

*******

Oh god it was so not cool. Jungkook was freaking the fuck out. The reality was sinking in, and it was not cool at all. You were going to pick up your stuff, and it felt like the official end was approaching. Until now, it felt like a temporary fight, where he could apologize and you'd come back to him. But now, it felt like a real breakup, and it was hitting him hard.

"Why the fuck did I have to say that? WHY THE FUCK? I'm such a fucking tool. I could have said anything, literally anything and what did I say? Pick your stuff up from my apartment. Why the fuck didn't I just get hit by that damn car instead?"

"Kook, calm down."

"What the fuck you mean calm down? She's gonna be here in two hours or something and she's gonna take the last pieces of her from this apartment and my miserable life and then she's gonna move on while I'll probably die alone because I can't ever love anybody as much as I love her." By the end of his rant all three of his hyungs were looking at him with mouth hung open.

"Bro, you've got issues."

"You think?" Jungkook sarcastically asked as he paused his pacing around the living room for a moment. Namjoon, Yoongi, and Hoseok, Jungkook's best friends, were gathered around him in the living room as the youngest ranted to them for an hour. Jungkook had called them as soon as he got back to his apartment, seeking their help to salvage the remaining pieces of his love life. True to their friendship, they all showed up within an hour. However, so far, none of them had been even slightly helpful, and Jungkook was now two bottles of wine down.

"Here's an idea," Hoseok offered. "Don't open the door when she comes here, she's gonna think you invited her and forgot, hence she can't take her stuff." All three men looked at Hoseok.

"Yes, Kook. And punch her dog while you're at it." Namjoon scoffed.

"At least I'm giving some advice. You guys are useless."

"Yes, Hobi hyung. And I appreciate that. But she already has a key she's just gonna get in and take her stuff and leave."

Yoongi finally broke his silence, offering his perspective. "You know what, JK? If she can't already see the efforts, maybe she's not worth it. You already spent a week following her around like a puppy, and she doesn't have the decency to acknowledge your efforts?" His words held a hint of frustration, clearly disappointed in your lack of response to Jungkook's attempts to win you back.

"She has every right to be mad at me. I was a horrible boyfriend. A week is nothing, even if it takes a year I'm still gonna try to do everything I can. And what efforts? All I've done is stalk her around, probably even made her uncomfortable."

"I agree with Yoongi, Jungkook. Maybe it's a sign that you should consider moving on," Namjoon gently suggested, feeling sympathy for his young friend. He had never seen Jungkook so frustrated and heartbroken before; usually, he has always been the life of the party, bringing joy to everyone around him. Witnessing him like this was truly disheartening.

"No, you guys don't understand. I love her. You know why I was always carefree about the future? Because I always knew it was her, I don't care what I do or what I am as long as its with her. She's it for me and I want her by my side for my whole life. I want to be hers more than I want to be anything. I want children, I want a dog, I want a marriage, I want everything with her and if she's not in the future I don't know what I am anymore. I don't know who I am without her." Jungkook's monologue has left everyone speechless and in awe.

"Dude you wanna get married? I never pegged you to be the one to get married?"

"Not right away but in the future, yes. Only if it's to her tho. I don't want anyone else."

"Wow... Never thought Jeon Jungkook would have children in his future." Yoongi knew him the longest and all through his fuckboy phase so it was hardest to digest for Yoongi.

"Well not anymore. The mother of my children wants a divorce."

"Did you say all that to her?" asked Namjoon.

"What?"

"That little speech you just gave? Does she know all that?"

"No... I guess we never got to talk about all those things. I realised all this after the break up anyway."

"Then tell her. Tell her everything you just said, exactly how you said it."

It was easier said than done. You arrived with a knock on his door an hour after the boys left. An hour which Jungkook spent cleaning every surface of his apartment so you wouldn't notice how pathetic his life has gotten after you left.

Upon seeing you walk into his apartment, Jungkook's mouth went dry. He couldn't help but notice how effortlessly beautiful you looked, even in the simplest of outfits. He still has no idea how you manage to look so beautiful in the dullest outfits ever. Your dress modestly covered your legs, and your top had a conservative neckline, not even a hint of cleavage was seen yet you still managed to radiate a captivating charm.

You were also wearing little to no makeup. He did not want to be one of those boyfriends who bragged about their girlfriends looking pretty without makeup but if it was a compitition he'd win. If situations was different he would have made a joke about you going to the church but he stops himself.

"You want some wine?" Jungkook asked.

"Sure. Did you clean the place?"

"Uh...oh yeah. Just a little." He replied pouring wine in two glasses and brought them out to you. You had to mentally remind yourself that this wasn't a romantic date; you were just here to pick up your belongings. Being back in his apartment after such a long time stirred up mixed emotions, and you couldn't help but feel your heart racing.

You took a sip of the wine, only to find it tasted terrible, and you immediately spit it out, making a disgusted face.

"Oh my god, is this the wine we tried making at home?"

"Yes."

"It's awful," you said, both of you bursting into laughter. "Oh my god, why do you still have this? Throw it out, it's literally trash."

"Nah… I like it sometimes… it goes well with that cheese you tried making," he said with a playful grin, recalling a failed culinary experiment from your past. The two of you shared a knowing look, the memories of your shared moments flooding back.

"Noooo that's disgusting... I can't believe you still eat that." You continued laughing. Ok focus, you're not here to have fun.

"Only sometimes... when I miss you." He said and your laughs stopped. "Baby I-"

"So? Where is all my thing?" You ask, completely ignoring the nickname.

"I'm sorry I didn't pack anything." Because I don't want to let you go. "Some of your clothes are still in the laundry room. We can start there." You headed to the compact laundry room, which was conveniently connected to his bathroom. Jungkook trailed behind you in silence as you began sifting through the sizable laundry baskets, searching for your clothes among the various items.

The atmosphere was a mix of awkwardness and nostalgia. Memories of the times you spent together flooded your mind as you touched the familiar fabrics. You tried your best to focus on the task at hand and not get lost in emotions that might cloud your judgment.

"Koo, you mixed up the dirty and clean basket again," you said, using the old nickname almost instinctively. Jungkook's ears perked up, and he couldn't help but notice the fondness in your voice as you gently pointed out his little mistake.

"Did I?"

"Yeah. Blue one is for the dirty laundry, and the white one is for the washed clothes. You mixed them all up, and now you'll have to wash 'em again," you said, teasingly holding up a definitely used Calvin Klein underwear from the clean laundry basket. It felt oddly domestic, and a sense of nostalgia washed over you. Part of you wanted to spend a little more time just doing this with him, the way you used to when you were together.

"Did you try washing my clothes?" You asked picking up your white, well now pink t shirt with your hands.

"I wanted to do something nice."

"That's sweet of you, but there's a reason I told you not to do the laundries. I do the laundries and you do…" You paused, catching yourself before you continued talking as if you were still a couple. It was a slip, and you needed to remind yourself of the reality. You were here to pack your clothes and leave, not to discuss how to divide chores between couples.

"Well you're not here anymore. So I do the laundries and I do the dishes."

"Right... I'll seperate my clothes and then pack them." As you started sorting through the clothes, memories flooded back when your hands grabbed a certain grey t-shirt. Tears welled up in your eyes, that t-shirt held significant meaning in your relationship. It was the first time you stayed at Jungkook's place, and he had given you that t-shirt to wear. You loved it so fucking much that you still wore it often. It represented a sweet and intimate moment between the two of you. Despite the emotions it stirred, you simply placed the t-shirt in his pile of clothes.

"What are you doing? That's your t shirt." He picked it up to put it back in your pile.

"No, it's yours."

"Yes but I gave it to you because you love it."

"Well we're not a couple anymore so I'm giving it back. How are we supposed to move on if-"

"Why are you so fixated on that?"

"On what?"

"On moving on." This was the first time after the break up you were seeing a glimmer of anger in Jungkook's eyes as he walked around the counter to come to your side.

"Well we have to move on, don't we? We can't keep living in the past."

"It's not the past yet. I still love you and you still love me. And don't you fucking say that you don't. Because you do."

"Well it doesn't matter. Love is not enough to work a relationship, Jungkook. We are not compatible."

"And who decided that? You? You suddenly know everything about compatibility?"

"Can't you see? We are fucking fighting over a fucking t shirt."

"No it's not about a t-shirt, we are fighting over the fact that you're giving up on our 3 years relationship so easily like it meant nothing to you."

"Easily? Do you think any of this is easy for me, Jungkook? Do you think I just want to fucking break your heart because I just want to give up? Do you have any idea how much courage it took for me to fucking walk into this apartment just to walk out for your life?"

"Well you could have fooled me. It sure as hell look like you don't give a flying fuck about us right now?"

"I don't give a fuck? How dare you say that? I have given the most fucks about this relationship out of the two of us." Your voices raised in intensity as you found yourselves in close proximity, chests nearly touching, and only a few inches of space between your faces. Despite the heated argument, you couldn't help but notice how his chest was heaving from all the emotions, and how strikingly handsome he looked tonight.

Jungkook was so angry that he had no idea what he was saying anymore. He was just venting his frustration and shouting whatever came to mind in the heat of the moment. But your mind had drifted away from deciphering his words. Instead, you found yourself fixated on his lips, the way the little freckle moved up and down with his lips, and how his hands gestured frantically as he tried to make his point. The intensity of the moment seemed to fade away, and you were lost in the small details that had once been so familiar to you.

"You know what? You're such a hypocrite. You've nagged me all this time for not making efforts, and now you don't even acknowledge any of them. Do you have any idea how cruel you are-?" Unlike last time, this time you remember who made the first move. You took him by surprise, grabbing his gray hoodie to pull him closer. It was you who pulled him down and pressed his lips against your own. The kiss was intense, filled with a mixture of frustration, love, and longing. In that moment, all the pent-up emotions seemed to find release, and you found yourself melting into each other's embrace, at least for a brief moment.

Jungkook doesn't know what the hell took over you, but he sure as hell wasn't complaining. No. It only took him a mere second to acknowledge the situation, but once he did, his arms were already around your waist, pulling you closer than physically possible. The intensity of the moment, the rush of emotions, it all felt overwhelming and right at the same time. The world seemed to fade away as you both embraced, holding on tightly to each other as if afraid to let go. It was a moment of surrender, a moment of pure vulnerability, and for that moment, everything else ceased to exist.

The silent laundry room filled up with the sound of lips smacking each other. And both of you trying to breath between your kisses. Kissing Jungkook has always been a treat in itself, you have had your fair share of lovers before Jungkook but none of them had ever kissed you like he did. Kissing with them was always sort of a task that you would have to go through until both of your clothes were off but not with him. With him kissing itself was such an amazing experience, you could and you had spent hours just kissing those lips, that's how good of a kisser Jungkook was.

Jungkook didn't only kiss with his lips; he kissed with his whole body. His hands explored every inch of your skin that was available to him. One hand was tracing the curve of your hips while the other moved up your back, sending shivers down your spine. The gentle squeeze of his hand on your ass elicited soft moans from you, and you felt your body responding to his touch in all the ways it used to when you were together. The physical connection between you two was undeniable, and it was as if no time had passed since your last intimate encounter.

Without breaking your kisses for a second, Jungkook swiftly picked you up and placed you on the counter, not caring that the laundry baskets fell to the floor. The kisses became more desperate and fervent, his tongue demanding authority inside your mouth. It was as if all the pent-up emotions and desires from the past week were being unleashed in this passionate moment, and neither of you could resist the pull of each other's lips and bodies.

"Wait, wait," You pulled away, panting with droopy eyes from the intensity of the moment. Your small hands gently pushed against his chest when he tried to lean in again. "What are we doing?" you asked, seeking clarity amidst the intoxicating rush of emotions and desire.

"I think, I think we are making out."

"No I mean... I'm not here to do this. This is not right."

"Who cares?" Jungkook shrugged, capturing your lips in another kiss. One much shorter than the previous.

"I do."

"Do you want this?"

"I do...but-" you were cut off by his plump lips.

"Let's talk about it later then... I miss you."

"I miss you too," you whispered, giving in to the overwhelming emotions and desires that filled the air between you both. With those words, you granted Jungkook the permission he needed to take things further. In that moment, you embraced the vulnerability of being human, unable to resist the pull of his charm and the way his body ignited your own.

His hands eagerly roamed along your back, searching for the zipper that must be hidden somewhere on the dress. His touch sent shivers down your spine, and your breath hitched as you felt his fingers deftly find the zipper's pull. The anticipation of what was to come next filled the air, and time seemed to slow down as he slowly, teasingly, pulled the zipper down.

"How was the meeting with the reverend?" He finally made the joke he had been dying to say all evening, making you smack his chest slightly

"Shut up. I thought if I didn't look hot, I'd make it easy on you." you playfully responded, justifying your choice of the dark green dress that covered most of your body.

"Are you kidding me? You can never not look hot. You are feeding my sexy liberarian fantasies." Ignoring his comment you started unzipping his gray hoodie revealing the white wife beater underneath.

"Meals you can skip, gym you can't?" You commented admiring the muscles adorning his shoulders chest and biceps. You shivered when his hand suddenly reached under your dress to caress your bare thighs. Close to your core which you were sure was practically drenched now.

"Can I take this off?" All you could do was nod in response and he ripped your dress off of you in mere seconds. "Gosh, baby, you're so beautiful." Jungkook whispered looking at your mismatched pair of cotton underwear. "Look at you... dripping already. You got this wet just with my kisses?" You shook your head in agreement as he gaped at your clothed pussy. A very noticeable and big patch of wetness covering your panties right at the centre. "I missed playing with your pussy so much. Did it miss me too, Baby?" Once again all you could do was nod when his fingers slowly started tracing shape on your clit. "Words, sweetheart."

"Yes... it missed you. Please do something, Koo." The way you mewled out the words sent blood rushing towards his already hard cock. That was all the encouragement he needed to push your panties to the side. His face lit up at the sight of your dewy folds. Slick dripping between the slit.

"What do you want first?"

"Fingers. I want your fingers." Jungkook quickly moved to take off his rings but you stopped him. "Fuck me with them." Jungkook almost came at your words, you never told him before that you liked getting off with his rings.

"You like the cold metal?" You couldn't answer the question as he started playing with the bundle of nerves, pinching it occasionally. All your words turned into whimpers. "Look your pussy baby. Begging of my fingers." He smirked before slowly entering your folds with his middle fingers.

"Ah... baby." You shakily reach out with your hand to bring his face near your chest. He seemed to understand the assignment as he quickly started nibbling at the skin of your breast, pulling down the cups to release your nipples which were now hard like pebbles.

Jungkook had a way of eliciting reactions from you as if it were the first time every time, despite having experienced it countless times over the past three years. It amazed you how he could still have such an impact on you after all this time.

"I missed having your tits on my face." Jungkook murmured before quickly taking one in his mouth. You moaned out incoherent words when his ring finger joined his middle finger inside your cunt. Thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit. Your hands found solace in Jungkook's hair as he continued leaving kisses all across your chest.

You let out a tiny whimper in protest when his fingers pulled out from you. He brought them up to his lips and gave them a suck, eyes looking deeply in your half closed once.

"Shhh don't worry, baby. I just want more access." You understood what he meant when he pulled you up easily with one hand to take off your panties and throwing it somewhere in the laundry room. "You know, you taste just as sweet as day one." He picked up some of your slick on his fingers and brought them closer to your lips. "Taste baby, taste how devine you are." You took his fingers in your mouth and sucked them clean. Jungkook's cock was now as hard as a rock. He quickly took one of your hands and guided them to his clothed boner in order to get some relief. Like muscle memory your your hands quickly started working on his crotch. Squeezing it just the right amount.

"Wanna suck your cock." You quickly said.

"Later. Let me have this cunt for now." He quickly bent down on his knees to swipe his tongue up your slit pulling out a sudden loud moan from you. "Yes baby. Keep screaming." He said before leaning forward and getting to work, lapping at your juices like a dog dying from thirst.

His two long fingers went back inside your seeping hole as his tongue started flicking your clit. His free hand grabbed your thigh and put it on his shoulder. You were halfway hanging from the counter and practically sitting on Jungkook's face. Jungkook on the other hand was in his heaven right now. Imagine two of the most favourite things to mankind, ass and pussy and then imagine being buried in them, Jungkook thought if he died right now right here, it would be the best death.

Your hips started moving in circular motion as you ground your pussy against his face. Hands tugging at his raven locks. His nose occasionally bumped against your clit. You looked down at the scene in front of you, Jungkook's eyes looking up at you and his mouth ate away at your pussy. The look of his face trapped between your thighs was so filthy that you almost came from it only.

His tongue had now replaced your fingers in poking and prodding inside your walls. His hand came around your hips to rub at your clit.

Jungkook loved eating your pussy and it showed. The way his eyes closed in pleasure only by bringing you close to your orgasm. He was a very selfless lover, he found pleasure in pleasing you and he could spend days licking your juices and playing with your pussy. Right now his goal was to make you cum, if you squirt then it would be a bonus.

"I'm close, Koo. Lick my clit please." And like the always obedient lover, he did. Fingers parting your pussy lips and tongue getting back to licking the bundle of nerves, lips wrapping around it to give it a suck now and then. The sounds you were making were pornographic to say the least. You were sure you sounded like one of those girls making high pitched noises in the porn videos but you couldn't help it. Jungkook made you behave like a whore and you loved it. You loved screaming his name and you loved making these obscene sounds, and Jungkook loved it even more.

"Koo, I'm cumming." You cried out. He started licking even faster at your words, helping you reach the high faster. His heart jumped with joy when he saw the juices coming out of you. He did it, he made you squirt. Your legs quivered around him as you came down from his high. He didn't stop there. He licked you until you were clean and drank every single droplet of your arousal. You were shaking from the orgasm and the oversensitivity you felt in your pussy.

With one last kiss to the hood of your clit Jungkook came up and you immediately pulled him in for a kiss. You were determined to pleasure him like he did you. Shaking hands fidgeting with his clothes as you tugged at his lip ring with your teeth.

"Slow down baby." He helped you take of his wife beater.

"Can't. Want your cock." You were once again drunk on arousal. Your hands worked as quick as they could after that earth shattering orgasm to pull out his cock from his sweatpants. Mouth watering at the sight once it finally did.

Jungkook had the most beautiful and delicious cock you have ever seen. It was long and thick with just the perfect mushroom tip, which was now swollen and red and leaking from precum. The veins in his cock were imitating the veins on his arms, ready to pop any minute. Your thumb already started doing its job by spreading the precum all over his tip.

The groan he let out as your hand played with his cock was very loud. Almost as if giving you a warning.

"Is baby a cockslut?" He asked, reaching out to trace your lips with his tumba. The same thumb that was rubbing your clit only a minute ago.

"Only for you."

"Yes. Only mine."

"Wanna suck your cock." You pleaded once again.

"Go ahead, babygirl. Do whatever you want." You took that as permission to sink down on your knees and come face to face with his throbbing penis which was begging for your attention. Your hands stroked him slowly up and down and tongue came out to tease the top. "Don't tease, baby." You giggles once he used his heavy tip slap you slightly.

You looked up at him, making the most innocent face as you collected some spit in your mouth and then spit on his cock to lather it up with some slick. You slowly took the warm tip in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it like a lollipop.

"Just like that, babe." Jungkook sighed out and his words arrange you to take him in inch by inch until he was in your throat. One of your hands came up to play with his balls. His moans were now louder working as your inspiration to please him more. You loved the way he said your name. Moaned your name like you were some goddess that he was praying to.

Your head started bobbing up and down as you took him in and out of your mouth. Tongue continuously playing with the warm slit on tip of his cock.

"Fuck my mouth." You said once you took him out completely.

"You sure?" You only responded with a nod and that was all the answer that he needed to grab the back of your head and start thrusting in your mouth. You angled your teeth in a way you knew he loved. In a way that they grazed his shaft enough to feel but not enough to hurt. His tip was bumping at the back of your throat as one of your hand kept playing with his balls.

He pulled out of your mouth too soon to your liking and you gave him a questioning look.

"I'll cum if we kept going. I wanna cum in your pussy." Jungkook did not take one more second to pull you up and bend you against the counter. Fingers once again playing with your entrence to make sure you were wet enough to enter. "Look at you. You are wet again already, baby. Such a fucking whore." Although his words might have offended you naturally but right now they just added to your arousal. "My little whore wants to get fucked?" His hands digging in the flesh of your ass, slapping it to make it jiggle.

"Yes, Kookie. Please, fuck me." You begged, splayed out on your front on the cold counter. His cock was running along your pussy, poking in your slit but not really entering. "Stop teasing me you, asshole." You screamed earning a chuckle from the man behind you.

"This is what you get for being so mean to me." The loud smack that came at the flesh of your ass was very unexpected. "Tell me you forgive me and I'll fuck you." He bargained.

"No." Another smack making you yelp out from pleasure and pain. Your cunt once again was dripping from your arousal and this asshole was doing absolutely nothing about it. Wasn't he turned on too?

"Say or I won't fuck you."

"You're an asshole"

"That's not the answer."

"Fine. I forgive you. Just fuck me, please." Jungkook laughed at the way you begged.

"See. It wasn't that hard." He finally sink into you. A synchronised moan escaped the both of you once he was completely inside. "So warm and tight, baby. The best pussy ever."

"Jungkook, faster." You moaned and he obliged instantly. Your ass jiggling as he started snapping into you in a fast rhythm. His cock was hitting you in all the right places, he had found your g-spot instantly. One of his hands sneaked to the front to rub your clit as the other pulled you back and held you against his chest.

You hiked one of your legs up on the counter to get better angle and feel all of him in all the right places. Jungkook kept grunting in your ear, letting out words of encouragement, telling you how good you were holding up and how wonderful your pussy was.

Your breast bounced up and down as he pulled out of you and pushed in with equal force. His fingers kept rubbing and flicking your clit side to side and soon you were close to your climax.

"Jungkook I'm close."

"Hold it."

"Can't," you were cut off by your own moan at another hit against your g spot. "Can't hold it for long."

"Just for a little, baby. I'm close too." His hand turns your jaw sideways to capture your lips, drinking all of your moans. Just a few thrusts of his later he was almost there. "On the count of 3, ok baby?" You nodded against his lips.

"One." He slapped your clit, earning a loud moan from you.

"Two." His hand tucked and pinched at your nipples.

"Three." With one final thrust the both of you came down from your climax with a loud scream.

"Oh god I love you. I love you so much baby." Jungkook said as his seeds filled your pussy up to the brim.

*******

"What are you doing?" Jungkook looked at you confusingly as you pulled on your clothes 15 minutes after having sex with him. Although he did clean you up there was still some of his cum inside you right now.

"I can't go out naked."

"Why do you have to go out?"

"Because I don't live here? We are still broken up, Jungkook." Your words hit him like a ton of bricks.

"What? But we... we just had sex... you said you forgave me."

"Don't act like you never said anything to get whatever you want." You said looking for your panties. "Where the fuck are my panties?"

"What do you m- did you just say that to have sex with me?" He said as you looked for another pair of panties in the laundry basket. "I feel so used right now."

"Don't be dramatic."

"But baby... I thought we made up. Please don't leave now."

"Jungkook... You want to win me back? Do it without sex. The sex was amazing but I'm sorry it did not solve anything. I still feel the same and you still haven't gave me any assurance."

"So we're still broken up?"

"Yes. I'll pickup my things some other time. I'm leaving." He sighed knowing there was no point in arguing. You were nothing if not stubborn.

"At least let me drop you off. It's getting late."

"It's ok. I called Taehyung when you were in the bathroom. He's already outside probably." You said, checking the time in you wrist watch.

"Fucking Taehyung." Jungkook muttered under his breath.

"Bye, Jungkook. Don't torture yourself, please."

*******

"Oh the walk of shame." Taehyung teased you when you walked out of a certain apartment building to his awaiting car.

"Shut up, Tae. If I wanted to be judged, I'd have called Jimin." Taehyung was your other best friend, and although you hadn't known each other for long, he quickly warmed his way into your heart. Ironically, you met Taehyung through Jungkook; he was Namjoon's cousin. However, now he was closer to you and Jimin than he was to Jungkook. You first met Taehyung at a club where Jungkook had dragged you with his office friends. Despite hitting on you initially, he politely backed off when you declined, and you both ended up spending the rest of the night talking and bonding over feeling neglected by the people who dragged you to the club.

"He's going to have field day with this." Taehyung chuckled as he drove away from the building.

"That's why we're not telling him."

"Fine by me, if you think you can lie to him."

"Oh god. What did I do?"

"Look, babe. I don't know what to say, you clearly still love him and he's clearly still obsessed with you. You are only torturing yourself by trying to stay away from him."

"I just... It's not enough you know. I know he loves me, more than anything but if I get back with him who's to say a week later he just won't go back to his usual self? I'm just scared Taehyung, I just don't want to get hurt. I don't want to be one of those women in the future who just sits at home and waits for her husband while he's out their flirting with a waitress or something."

"I just hope you'd stop hurting. Nothing else." He gave you a sympathetic smile and held your hand for the whole drive.

*******

Life can be cruel, and it seemed like the universe wasn't on your side. You want something so much and when you'd finally have it, you don't want it anymore. You had wanted space from Jungkook and asked for it repeatedly, but now that he had given you that space for the past six days, you couldn't shake the feeling that something significant was missing from your life. It was as if a big piece of your heart was absent, and you found yourself longing for his presence once again.

Six days had passed since you left Jungkook's place in Taehyung's car, and during that time, he hadn't reached out to you even once. There were no phone calls, no text messages, and no unexpected appearances at random places. It felt strange and unfamiliar not having him actively pursuing you, and it only added to the confusion and uncertainty swirling in your mind.

Every time you made a turn or entered a cafe, a part of you half-expected Jungkook to be there, waving at you with that familiar, endearing smile on his face. But each time, you found yourself disappointed as there was no sign of him. The absence of his constant presence was both a relief and a pang of longing, leaving you torn between wanting to move on and wanting him to come back into your life.

Wasn't this what you wanted? For him to stop obsessing over you and move on with his life? However, now that he had seemingly taken a step back, you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. A part of you wanted him to fight for you, to prove that he was willing to change and make things work. Another part of you longed for his familiar presence and the comfort that came with it.

"Did you hear any of the words I just said?" Mia asked you and you gave her a guilty smile.

"I'm sorry, I'm a little preoccupied today."

"Is this about Jungkook again?"

"I'm so sorry... I think this is a very bad idea. I really don't want to disrespect your friend." When Mia suggested the double date with her boyfriend and their friend a few days ago you were very skeptical about it. You didn't want to get into anything right now with the mess that your head was but after discussing it with Jimin and Taehyung, they convinced you that you should go, to take your mind off of things for a bit. Double dates are nothing serious, it was just a way to lighten up your mood. Although now you were regretting the whole ordeal. You shouldn't have come here. Not only was your mood very sour but it was also very evident on your face.

"Oh no. You wouldn't. Trust me. Actually the thing is Chris is going through a bad breakup as well and Jisung and I thought you could, you know help each other out or something."

"That's very sweet of you, Mia. But you sure I wouldn't ruin the whole thing?"

"Oh don't worry at all. And even if it does not go well nothing will be ruined between us. We'll laugh about it later." You gave her a grateful smile when she rubbed your hands.

A few seconds later, the bell of the restaurant rang, and two very attractive men walked in. As the woman beside you stood up, you realized that they were your dates. Mia quickly introduced you to her boyfriend Jisung and your date Chris. You were relieved that Chris wasn't at least horrible looking, and you hoped you could get through this one date.

"Wow, they did not mention how beautiful you are," Chris said as he shook your hand and took the seat in front of you. You couldn't help but wonder how many times he used this line, but then you reminded yourself that not every guy is a player. For all you know, Chris could be a very sweet guy who was genuinely complimenting you.

"Thank you, that's very kind of you," you replied with a polite smile. "You don't look so bad yourself."

As the conversation flowed, you found yourself getting more comfortable around Chris. He was easy to talk to, which helped lighten your mood. But despite being a genuinely sweet guy, you couldn't help but compare Chris to Jungkook. Whether it was the way he spoke, sat, or even called for the waiter, Chris lacked the same level of confidence that Jungkook possessed. Even on your first date, Jungkook had a way of making you feel like you had known him forever.

You observed that Chris couldn't hold a candle to Jungkook when it came to a sense of humor. While Jungkook was effortlessly funny, Chris tended to build up to a joke too much, and it often fell flat, leaving you with no choice but to give him pity laughs.

You had to consciously remind yourself to stop comparing this man to your ex boyfriend. Chris might not be as funny, or confident, or curious, or smart, or handsome, or cute, or witty, or energetic, or adventurous, or a good wine orderer as Jungkook but he was still a decent person. Perhaps, if you gave him a chance, things could potentially go well. It was essential to keep an open mind and not let your past experiences cloud your judgment.

The mention of your name from the man in front of you snapped you out of your train of thoughts. "So, tell me something about yourself," he said, and you suddenly realized that all three pairs of eyes were expectantly on you. Not knowing exactly what to say, you started talking about your work. With Jungkook, this was never an issue; conversation always flowed effortlessly, even in the early stages of your relationship.

"Oh… um well, I recently got promoted to a junior copywriter in our advertising company," you replied, giving him a small smile.

"No none of the boring work stuff. Tell me about yourself. What are your interests?" he asked, and you were slightly surprised by his directness. Didn't Mia mention he was going through a breakup as well? Must have been one happy breakup if he was still so cheerful.

"I... I like horror movies."

"Oh, I can't stand horror movies," Chris replied. Jungkook, on the other hand, loved horror movies. Every weekend, the two of you would go watch horror films or shows and then mock the scary scenes together. He adored seeing you jump at the jump scares and relished the opportunity to hold you close in his arms to "console" you.

"Then what kind of movies do you like?"

"I'm more into non-fiction and political cinema, and occasionally documentaries," he said. His response didn't exactly excite you, and you wondered if he was just trying to impress you or if his taste in movies was genuinely that dull. If it was the former he was doing a very bad job.

"Prude," Mia's boyfriend, Jisung, let out a cough, and it actually made you laugh, realizing it might be the first time you've genuinely laughed during this date. Normally, Jungkook would have already… No, no more thinking about Jungkook.

"I think it's adorable that Chris gets his jollies from 'our planet'." You laughed again, finding some amusement in the conversation. This date might end up being a little more bearable after all.

Finding an opening, you slipped into a conversation with Mia and Jisung instead of focusing solely on Chris. You couldn't help but awe at how adorable of a couple Mia and Jisung were. They recently celebrated their 1-year anniversary. Jisung was much younger but despite the age difference, they seemed so happy and in love. They reminded you so much of you and Jungkook. While Jungkook might not have been younger than you, he was definitely the more mischievous and playful one in the relationship, while you tended to be more responsible and level-headed.

"Do you happen to know the guy sitting behind you? Because he has been glaring at me like I just stole his kids and traded them for wool," Chris said, catching Mia's attention first. She turned around, and you followed suit, curious to see who was giving Chris such a fierce look.

To your surprise, it was none other than Jeon Jungkook sitting at the table behind you, and he wasn't alone. Yoongi, Hoseok, and Namjoon were with him. Your heart skipped a beat when your eyes met his, and a myriad of emotions surged through you, but one was the most overwhelming of them all. Guilt.

Regret washed over you as you realized the impact your decision to go on this date had on Jungkook. His hurt expression tugged at your heartstrings, and you couldn't help but feel guilty for putting yourself in this situation. It was clear that this double date was a mistake, and you were left grappling with your emotions and the consequences of your choices.

Feeling overwhelmed and needing a moment alone, you excused yourself from the table without waiting for any response from the others. You rushed through the restaurant, trying to find a washroom where you could collect your thoughts and emotions. The encounter with Jungkook had caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but wonder if he had intentionally come here like he did that past week or if it was just actually a coincidence.

"So we're dating other people now?" He sounded hurt when he stepped in behind you in the restroom.

"Kook, this is not what it looks like."

"I'm not mad. I'm just surprised."

"You're not?"

"Maybe a little."

"Where were you for the past six days?" You turned the question on him.

"So I disappear for a week and you start dating someone else. Thought it would take at least 30 days to move on from a 3 year relationship." His remark was bitter but you knew where he came from.

"Kook, it's not what it looks like," you said, stepping closer to him, feeling the need to explain yourself even though you knew you didn't owe him anything. After all, you were not together anymore, and it had been almost three weeks since the breakup.

"By the way I didn't disappear because I was giving up on us. I was just trying to give you some space. Our friends forced me to give you some space," He said "I wouldn't have if I knew..."

"Jungkook,"

"What's his name?"

"Don't do this to yourself."

"What does he do? I mean we can still be friends right? I know it-" you cut of his words by pressing your lips against his in a very soft kiss.

"Koo, you presence was not so insignificant in my life that I'd forget you in a week." Your words brought a hint of smile on his lips. He let out a sigh in relief.

"Oh thank God, I thought I lost you to that leprechaun."

"Hey," you scolded him. "I swear to god if you pick a fight with him on the way out, I'll whoop your ass."

"That would be so hot." There he was. Your precious Jungkook.

"But we're still not back together." The smile left his face as soon as it came. "Kook... I'm still not yours but... Make me. I'm willing to give you another chance but... You have to assure me that it will be worth it. Win me back and I'm yours."

"I will, baby. I'll show you how devoted I am." With one last kiss on your lips he left the restroom.

As Jungkook left the restroom with a newfound sense of hope and determination, you couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. It was like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and he was ready to face the challenge of winning you back with all his heart.

As you returned to the table, Mia and Chris looked at you curiously. "Is everything okay?" Mia asked with concern.

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, everything's fine. Just had a little chat."

Chris raised an eyebrow playfully. "A little chat, huh? Well, I hope it was a good one."

You glanced back at the restroom door, feeling a mix of emotions inside you. "Yeah, it was," you replied, your heart a little lighter than before.

*******

And the cycle began anew on the following day. The affectionate text messages resumed, starting from the sweet 'good morning' greetings to heartfelt 'I love you's. You received a bouquet of a 100 sunflowers on your desk with a note that only read 'because roses are cliche'. He sent boba at your office because you hated coffee and he sent you sushi's from your favourite restaurant.

It was like a cycle. Once again he was following you around the city but this time you didn't roll your eyes at him, didn't cuss him out or ask him to leave you alone. You even heard from Jimin and Taehyung that Jungkook deleted his Snapchat and Instagram. Jimin was the most shocked one at the news. 'Oh my god is Jungkook actually trying to redeem himself?'

You laughed as Jungkook ran after your subway because he was a minute too late and couldn't get in as it left the station. But like the lovely ex-girlfriend you were you decided to get off on the next station to wait for him. And like you expected 10 minutes later a you saw Jungkook running down the stairs, eyes looking for you. Quickly running up to you when he found you.

"Did you run here?" He didn't answer you but only because he was too busy catching his breath.

"There are trains only two minutes apart."

"I...I know that" He said between catching his breath. "But that... would not... have been very romantic."

"And what if I didn't get off at this station."

"I would run to your office."

"You're crazy."

"Only for you."

One more week goes by with Jungkook showing you in every way how much you mean to him. You were finally starting to get the assurance and security that you have always craved for your relationship. You were finally starting to see the depths of Jungkook's devotion. The smile on your face now was just a constant. And there were only two reasons for it, Jungkook and thoughts of Jungkook.

"So, how's everything going with your crazy stalker ex?" One night Jimin playfully commented when you him and Taehyung were spending it at your place.

"Don't call him crazy."

"Fine. How's your completely sane stalker ex?" You only roll your eyes but soon started smiling widely. "Oh my god guys... He's the sweetest. I don't think I've seen him putting this much efforts in to anything like ever."

"Yeah, Namjoon says he's so whipped for you that it's disgusting." Taehyung's comment makes you blush. "So? When are you getting back together with him."

"I don't know. I mean I know. But, I don't know, should I initiate it? Should I wait for him to ask me again? Should I ask him to ask me again?"

"Don't think too much about it. If you wanna be with him, be with him." Taehyung being the ever level headed one said.

"I say make him work some more. That man had you going crazy for three years, the least jail time he deserves is three months." Jimin said sipping on his margarita.

"Don't listen to, Jimin. In fact call him right now."

"No, don't call him right now. This is our night. Don't be a simp."

"Did you guys bet against me and Jungkook?" You asked looking between both of your friends who looked like deers caught in a headlight. "Who else?"

"Just Jimin and I... and Namjoon and Yoongi and Hoseok." You gasped dramatically at your unbelievable friends.

"If either of you win, I want my cut."

The next day you were surprised to not see the usual series of morning texts that you get from Jungkook. There were no flowers outside your doorstep or your desk. Nobody sent you boba or lunch and you could say that you were having a very Jungkook less day today. The lack of your cute stalker ex has taken a toll on your mood and you found yourself becoming increasingly snappy and cranky with others, unable to shake off the disappointment and longing for his attention. This made you realise how much accustomed you have become to Jungkook.

You looked longingly at your phone but there was nothing, still no text, no calls. You could always be the mature one and call him to see what was the matter but a part of you hesitated, not wanting to appear too eager or like you were desperately missing him. After all, he had been the one pursuing you, and you didn't want to reverse those roles.

Soon it was time to get off from work, and with a series of goodbyes and good evenings you quickly left your office, You couldn't help but wonder if Jungkook would be waiting for you outside, just like he used to do. However, as you stepped out, there was no sign of him, and the reality sank in that he wasn't there. Still holding onto a glimmer of hope, you decided to wait for a little while, thinking he might show up a bit late. You stood there, keeping an eye out for any sign of him, and time seemed to slow down. Every passing minute felt like an eternity, and you were torn between staying and leaving.

Soon the guard to the building adviced you to leave saying that their was a big storm on the way. You quickly looked up the weather forecast to realise that he was right indeed. You looked up at the sky to see the angry black clouds had started to gather around.

Searching for his contact you finally decided to give him a call. You were seriously getting worried about Jungkook now. As the call went straight to voicemail, your worry for Jungkook intensified.

Deciding it was the only choice, you headed towards Jungkook's place instead of your own, opting for a cab over the subway to reach him quickly.

Your excitement soared when your phone finally rang after a long day of silence. But, it quickly turned to disappointment as you noticed an unknown number instead of the one you had been eagerly waiting for. Despite the uncertainty, you chose to answer the call, just in case it was something important.

The voice asking for you on the other side was definitely unknown.

"Yes this is she." You replied.

"I'm speaking from Hope Memorial Hospital. You are listed as an emergency contact for a Jeon Jungkook. He has been involved in a motorcycle crash, and it's a very serious accident. We urgently need a guardian. Are you able to assist, or could you direct us to someone else?" The voice on the other end was serious and panicked, but you found it hard to accept the gravity of the situation. Your heart pounded in your chest, and tears streamed down your face, hoping that it wasn't as critical as it sounded.

"No, it's okay. I'll be there in... 10 minutes," you replied, your voice shaky but determined. You swiftly instructed the cab driver to change the route, urging him to go faster as you anxiously bit your nails in anticipation.

During the ride, you tried to stay strong and reassure yourself that it might not be as critical as you feared. Your mind couldn't help but drift to the worst-case scenario. What if he was already... No, no, no, you couldn't bear to think that way. You pushed those thoughts aside, trying to stay positive and hopeful as you rushed towards the hospital.

The driver observed you with sympathy as you quietly wept in the back seat. Regret filled your heart as you realized you should have called him. You blamed yourself, thinking that it was all your fault, and if anything happened to him, it would be on you.

As the car came to a stop, you hastily tossed all the remaining cash at the driver and rushed inside the hospital. Your must have looked frantic as you ran around, sobbing and calling out Jungkook's name. Thankfully, a compassionate nurse came to your aid and calmly checked the hospital charts for the name you managed to utter amidst your sobs.

"Come with me, dear. He's in the ER," you swiftly followed the nurse to a bustling room. As the nurse drew back the curtain, you braced yourself for the worst—expecting to see Jungkook badly injured, bleeding, or worse. However, what you did not anticipate was finding Jungkook sitting there, looking.... perfectly fine?

You stared at the man sitting there, feeling a mix of confusion and relief. He was laughing at something the blond girl standing beside him had said. It was unexpected, given the seriousness of the call you received earlier. You couldn't help but wonder if there had been a mistake or if he had recovered miraculously.

"Baby, you came." His eyes lit up as soon as he saw you, there was not even a single scratch on Jeon Jungkook, maybe beside the scratched leather jacket. Now not to get you wrong, you were very happy that he was okay. You were just very confused. What was happening? You had stopped sobbing breathlessly but the tears were still flowing.

"I don't understand... Somebody called, they said... That something happened and it was serious." You tried explaining.

"I did get into a crash but it was nothing. They thought it was internal bleeding but that wasn't the case either. That's why I was here all afternoon, doing tests an all. But now I'm fine."

"Then why did they say that?"

"It was just a prank. I'm sorry it was Sua's Idea." He said pointing at the blond girl standing there. Your blood was boiling so fucking much that you didn't even care asking who this bitch even was let alone what she was doing with your boyfriend.

"A prank? You think this is funny?" Jungkook finally grasped the seriousness of the situation when he saw the mortified look on your face, realizing the impact of the prank. Your makeup was ruined from all the crying, and you looked exhausted.

"Baby, calm down it was just a joke." His hands came forward but you slapped it away.

"Do not Fucking touch me." You glared at him. "Do you seriously think that was funny? I almost had a heart attack, Jungkook. Do you know how fucking scared I was?" Jungkook didn't like when your voice did that. He could handle you yelling, screaming, and even calling him names, but seeing you speak with that dead serious look on your face was something he couldn't bear. It made him feel like he wanted to disappear. Jungkook wanted to jump off a cliff.

"You know what? I can't believe I even thought about giving you another chance. We are seriously done this time." You didn't even look back as you walked away as Jungkook struggled to get that IV out of his hand and run after you.

"Baby, stop I'm sorry. It was Sua's Idea, I swear."

The thunderstorm had finally hit your city with full blast. It was raining cats and dogs. In the midst of it all, everyone ran to sought shelter. However, that didn't stop you from sprinting out of the hospital. The storm didn't concern you; what mattered most was that you couldn't even bare the thought of being near Jeon Jungkook at that moment.

As you dwelled on everything that had happened, your anger intensified. You felt a surge of anger directed at Jungkook, the thunderstorm, and that stupid blond woman who played the prank. But, the strongest force of anger was aimed at yourself, for even thinking that he can take anything seriously. Why did you even bother believing he could change? He was and will always be a man-child.

"Babe, it's really dangerous outside."

"THEN STOP FOLLOWING ME."

"I'm not leaving you alone," he insisted, stepping out into the heavy rain to follow you. As you walked, you had no clear destination or plan in mind. All you knew was that you were so angry with Jeon Jungkook that you couldn't bear to look at his face.

After just a few minutes of walking in the worst thunderstorm you've experienced in years, you came to the realization that this was a reckless idea. Your emotions had driven you to act impulsively, and now you saw the potential danger not only for yourself but for the idiot following you as well. While you knew Jungkook seemed to have little to no regard for his own life and safety, you cared about him.

Recognizing the need to be level-headed and responsible, you decided to find shelter, a place where both of you could wait out the thunderstorm safely. You understood that even in moments of anger, you needed to prioritize the safety of both of you. You began searching for a suitable place where you could find refuge from the harsh weather.

Ignoring the constant pleas from the man behind to listen to him, you led him to a nearby subway station. The station provided shelter from the heavy rain and the strong winds that accompanied the thunderstorm. Inside, the noise of the rain was muffled, creating a more peaceful atmosphere.

"Babe, I'm so sorry, please talk to me," seeing your silence he continued "I messed up, and I'm really sorry. I should have never gone along with that prank."

"Yes you shouldn't have." you snapped making him jump a little. Taking a deep breath to calm your anger and clear your thoughts, you finally addressed the question that had been gnawing at you. "Who was that woman anyway?"

"Just some girl, she was in the bed beside mine and we got to talking but I swear to god, I did not flirt with her once. When I told her about you she came up with the prank and I should not have gone along with it. I'm sorry."

"I just feel that you can't take anything seriously. It's like everything is a joke to you. How do I know that you'll take me seriously? That you'll take this relationship seriously?"

"No... I know I've been a little childish," watching you raise an eyebrow he corrected himself "A lot childish. But I swear, babe. This is the most serious thing in my life. I've made many mistakes in the past but I swear I'll start redeeming everything. I'll prove how serious I am about us. You are everything for me, baby. Everything. You're it for me. I want to spend my whole life with you, __." The way he said your name sent shivers down your body. The way he looked at your eyes eased your mind a little. "I want to have a future with you. I want to marry you, I want to have a home with you, I want to grow old with you, that's how serious I am. I love you more than anything in this entire world and I'll prove it to you." You only realised that you were crying when he wiped a year from your eyes.

"You mean it?"

"Every word."

"Fine then. Let's go." You held out your and he quickly grabbed it. When you dragged him out of the subway station you realised that the storm had stopped. The universe was on your side for once.

Jungkook did not utter another word the whole way that you led him to your house. The silence was thick when you closed the door behind you. He still didn't know what it meant for you both, your silence did not give him any answer and he was scared to ask.

"I swear to god, Jeon Jungkook" You finally began after the painful silence and his heart skipped a beat in anticipation. "If I see you entertaining another women ever again, I'm walking out of your life. And this time it would be for good. I will not come back no matter how much you beg me to." It took him a couple seconds to take in your words.

"Does that mean-"

"Yes. I'm giving you another chance. But you mess it up and I'm dumping your ass." The next thing you know Jungkook is showering your whole face in kisses and he finally let go of the tears. Crying happily as he held you close.

"Thank you, baby. Thank you so much. I will not disappoint you, I promise."

"I hope so too." The both of you stood in the middle of your living room, soaking into each other's warmth.

"Now let me fuck you right." He said, making you yelp as he picked you up all of a sudden and rushed toward your bedroom. Your kisses soon turned heated and desperate. Both of you panting as he started taking off your wet clothes.

You were wet in more ways than one. His kisses traveled down your face along with each piece of garment he removed from you. Lips not sparing a single inch of skin as he spent the whole night showing you how much he loves you.

The next morning your wakeup call was none other than Jungkook's tongue swiping away at your center. You woke up with a gasp when the sun was yet to come out. You glanced down to find the mop of raven hair between your thighs.

"Oh god, koo yes." You moaned out loud when his plump lips wrapped around your clit and started sucking. His hands pushing down on your hips, keeping them from arching up on the bed.

His tongue swiped up from your opening as your juices trickled down to your posterior hole. It was too early for your head to comprehend whatever was happening. Your finger started tugging on his curls when he pulled you close to your orgasm. Agressively lapping at your pussy. The pleasure you felt was tremendous. Too much to handle.

Jungkook ate you out like he had rent to pay and this was his job. His tongue playing with you as you came down from your high screaming his name louder than ever. After pulling two more orgasms from you in the next 15 minutes Jungkook was finally satisfied and he kissed up his way to your lips.

"Jungkook, we had sex like, 7 times last night. It wasn't enough?" You giggled when you felt his hard boner pressing against your ass.

"It's never enough with you. Seven times is nothing, baby," he said as he slowly entered you, pulling out a moan from your lips. "I wanna fuck you seven days a week." He added between his lazy thrusts. "Every hour." He lands a gentle kiss on your lips. "Every minute." Fingers intertwining with your own. "Every second."

********

#jeon jeongkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook seven #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #Boyfriend jungkook #Jeon Jungkook x reader #Stalker jungkook #Bts #BTS x reader #Jungkook bts #Jk x reader #Boyfriend jk #Fuckboy jungkook #seven #seven jungkook

6K notes · View notes

httpsclarye · 7 months

Text

#GOOD LOKING+!

Your plan was quick and simple. You would go to the kitchen, make some tea to ease your headache, and then return to your comfy bed. You weren't expecting to come across your crew's blonde cook barechested cutting carrots.

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: 18+ content, smut, swearing, pet names, big dick sanji, kitchen sex, blow job, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, sanji moaning, p in v type of sex.

Ao3: Good Looking

English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes :) Enjoy!

You are used to this. The utterly exhausted sensation after several hand-to-hand combats, so when the headache started when you finally lay down in bed, you just decided to ignore it; the sleep would catch up before it got.

Until the needed sleep never got you. So, after an hour or two of rubbing your temples and staring at the ceiling while feeling envy-induced annoyance for Nami’s peaceful breathing, you pushed yourself to stand up.

Even if the cool night air almost makes you wish you hadn't left your warm bed, you needed that green tea to stop the pounding headache in the back of your head. The kitchen lights shining through the window went undetected as your mind was busy figuring out how you could prepare the drink quickly so that the pain could cease as soon as possible.

“Oh, it’s you, darling. Is everything alright?” As you walked into the door and recognized Sanji's words, you snapped out of your thoughts and began to look over your surroundings. He was not wearing any type of shirt while he sliced carrots from behind the counter.

Barechested. Topless. Half naked.

“Y-yes, I mean, no. Just a headache.” You gaze the blonde in the eyes as you stumble through your sentences, you are merely vaguely aware that your face is beginning to turn red. “I just want that green tea; I know it's somewhere around here. I saw Nami storing it in the cabinets earlier.”

You felt foolish. You became used to seeing shirtless men given that you lived in the middle of the ocean and therefore often came across Luffy, Usopp, and even Zoro barechested. They would often walk around the deck that way on hot days. Sanji, however, always showed up in a suit or, at the very least, had a formal shirt rolled up to his elbows. Even so, there was no chance of seeing him dressed otherwise since he went to sleep after you and woke up before everyone.

“I can do it for you; it’s my job after all, taking care of my sweet girl.” He placed the knife down, threw the chopped carrots in a nearby pot, and proceeded to go through the cupboards. “Love, do you remember where she stored it? There are plenty of cabinets in this place.”

"What are you doing here?" You instantly regret your tone as you noted Sanji just froze in his search.

“I mean, sorry, the kitchen is your place, I know. I just never saw you here this hour, and me and Luffy go here to do midnight snacks sometimes”

“I could not sleep”

“Me too” Once again, an irrational remark. He was informed that you were having trouble falling asleep; that's why you were there. “Why the carrots?”

“The attack that happened today. I had hoped for more food, but I believe you are aware of how fucked our situation is.” He continued looking for the tea while chuckling flatly. “We don't know when we will receive more supplies; we right now have barely anything stocked. Even the carrot peels have been put to use in an effort to reduce waste, you know.”

You weren't sure how to respond. It was clear that everyone's mood was negatively affected by today's incident. The worry of what would happen in the next few days or weeks was filling your head since Usopp managed to escape the ship. His back was to you, so you were unable to see his facial expressions, but you couldn't help but notice his muscles.

You felt a little guilty since you couldn't take your focus away from it, despite him having just voiced some serious concern. Has he lately started working out, or has he always had muscles like that?

“Are you and Luffy close then?”

The sudden break in silence confused you as he turned toward you with the pot of tea in his hands and a pleased smile.

“I suppose so. After all, he was the one who invited me to join the crew, right?” You smirked at the thought. It wasn't much time—perhaps a few months—and you were losing track of time at sea. “I fearlessly agreed to become a pirate, although I had never spent more than two weeks on a boat.”

“I remember that. You were so naive”

Of course he remembers. When you joined the crew, it was very easy to have a conversation with Sanji; he was constantly complimenting you or flirting in a straightforward manner. You never took him seriously, hearing about the blonde's techniques from Nami from the first day, but it was often hard not to chuckle or blush when he was so…

“Not anymore.”

He grinned at you before returning his attention to the tea. It was impossible to look away from his bare chest. You were unable to rest your mind from imagining how his skin would feel on your hand now that he was in your line of sight. You are already aware that he's a good-looking man, but now seeing more of his body did things to you.

“All right, madam. Here is your tea.” He circles the counters until he's right next to you. Really close. His eyes twinkle with recklessness, and you know he caught you staring at his figure.

You ignore the tickle in your lower belly as you stand there, grab the mug in your hands, and sip while gazing at his face. He still has that typical smirk, and when you finally finish drinking your tea, he glances at your lips before returning to your eyes. Everything becomes fuzzy and hot then.

He's very close. His hand has been lying on the counter, his chest is nearly brushing your own, and you can't help but notice his modest, almost transparent blonde hair in there. Perhaps it's a sign for you to walk away, that this is going in a dangerous direction, but you can't.

“What dear? See something you lik-”

You interrupt him with a kiss; it's all very messy and quick, and he is unable to have time to handle everything. You come to an abrupt halt and stare at him with wide eyes, realizing what you have done.

“Sanji, fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t meant t-”

He didn't let you finish the apologies. His hand pulls your head back, bringing your lips together. The kiss looks right now. It begins carefully, with both sides cautious, but it quickly gets heated as he doesn't hesitate to push his tongue into your mouth.

You’re breathless when he finally pulls away, and his eyes are hungry. He didn't think twice before pressing his open mouth and tongue on your neck. A moan escapes from your lips.

His left hand shifts down to grab your hip, and you catch your breath. Your hands graze his nipples as you reach for his pecs, and he hisses at the fresh sensation in your throat.

“Gods Y/N, you’re going to kill me this way”

You chuckled, and he kissed you again, although this time you took charge, moving one of your hands to his blonde hair before tilting his head to grant you more access. You stop the action just to take a moment to recover and gaze into his dilated pupils. He looks so attractive like that that you can’t help but want to go down on him.

”Sanji,” You whisper breathlessly, enjoying the sensation of his name in your mouth, “let me taste you.”

He groans in response, which you take as encouragement as you lean down and proceed. You lick and kiss the trail that leads to his crotch, and he hisses softly, his abdomen tense beneath your hands and mouth. As you get down on your knees and look at his pants, you can see his erection, which seems big and marked.

You don't hesitate to pull down the waistband of his pants and boxers together, exposing his hard, leaking cock to your eyes. It's big. It's more than you expected. There's a buildup of cum at the head, and you reach forward and wrap your lips around it, licking gently just to tease.

You look up as you swirl your tongue over the tip and dip your tongue into the slit to see him biting his lower lips, his head thrown back. You wanted to see his face while sucking him. So you take him out of your mouth and cautiously wrap a hand around him, teasing him a little with your hand. Your movements are agonizingly slow as you lightly suck and lick the sensitive head until finally he looks down.

“Oh, darling, you’re so pretty like that.” Sanji whined above you, and then your mouth opened around the head of his cock, and he slid it into your mouth. “Fuck, fuck. So… so perfect.”

You can clearly see the blonde struggling to keep his composure, like how his knuckles are white while gripping the counter behind him. You relax your throat, take a long breath through your nose, and exhale slowly before swallowing him whole while gripping his inner thighs.

His penis is large, so the initial sensation isn't the most pleasant, but as he lets out a loud groan, you forget about everything. Something about hearing Sanji whine in the kitchen while you gagged on his cock made the aching between your legs unbearable.

"Oh yeah, Y/N. You are so good to me. Your mouth feels so good in me.”

You moaned softly at his words of praise, making vibrations around his penis, causing another moan from him. His left hand reached from the counter to your hair, and you didn't reject the help while bobbing your head up and down.

“My love, you are so perfec-“

A few tears occasionally escaped as you sucked him and he fucked your throat, sometimes only taking him out to run your tongue along his length. You started to see signs that he was close to cum. One of your hands left the thighs to rub his balls.

“I… I'm going to cum, Y/N, dear... I" He gives you a chance to pull away from him, but you choose to continue and accept it all. You remove the entire length of his throat and leave just the head in your mouth.

He comes soon after, with a muffled groan, while you attempt to swallow as much as you can before it gets difficult, followed by a satisfied moan coming from you.

You felt his hand leave your hair, and for two or three minutes, you just remained there. He has his head back and is trying to catch his breath while you are on your knees, glancing at his chest and the beads of sweat gathering on his neck. It’s a perfect vision, honestly. You ponder whether he would notice if you began to masturbate right then.

“Come on, madam, let me help you up.” Sanji extends his hand to support you in getting up, and once you are upright, he grabs hold of your waist to keep you close to him.

He kisses you, tasting himself in your mouth. It's slow, and you realize he's still trying to emerge from his afterglow. When he breaks the kiss, that smile returns to his face, and you peck him once more just to get rid of it.

Sanji deepened the kiss again. And fuck, what else could you do but reply in the same aggressive way?

You're hoisted up by the hands on your hips and thrown onto the counter. The blonde is now between your legs, breaking the kiss, only to go straight to that specific spot on your neck that you're almost certain will leave a mark in the morning.

“Oh- Sanji,” You try to speak breathlessly as he licks your collarbone and his fingers brush the hem of your t-shirt, “You don’t h-have to do that.”

It wasn't that you didn't want Sanji. Since you entered that kitchen and spotted him without a shirt, you wanted this. Yet, you took the decision to give him an opportunity to back out, be thankful for the blowjob, and never bring up the matter again. Him taking you would be very personal.

“Please, my love,” You can hear the yearning in his voice as he whispers in your ear. “I just want to make you feel good too.”

You nod, and he attacks your mouth once again while his hands pull the hem of your t-shirt, exposing your chest, and you can't stop yourself from moaning at being so bare to him.

He doesn't think twice about placing his mouth on your breasts as he rolls the hard bud between his teeth and tongue and gives the other one a gentle stroke with his other hand. He bites your nipple as your head is flung back, and all you can do is pray that no one hears your loud scream.

He takes his mouth from your breasts and begins a trail down your stomach, and you can't stop whining due to the lack of warm sensation from his tongue in your niples, but you quickly figure out where he's headed as he lowers himself between your thighs.

He doesn't ask for permission as he aggressively rips off your shorts and, along with them, your underwear, revealing your pussy to him. He pulled your hips closer and dragged a finger down your folds, then placed it inside his mouth.

"Oh, you're so soaking wet, just for me, hm?" You are so stunned by the sight that you hardly pay attention to what the blonde is saying. “You taste so good, my darling.”

You stand on your elbows and glance at the man who is standing in between your legs. You can't help but gasp at the taunting as he starts giving you small small bites and kisses along your inner thighs. But you want him now.

“Oh Sanji, stop teasing for fuc-“

He didn't wait for you to finish the curse word before burying his face, pushing his tongue against your wet pussy, and licking a long, temptingly slow strip through your folds until he reached your sensitive bud.

In an attempt to create more friction, you thrust your hips into his mouth, and your left hand immediately settled on his blonde hair. Sanji found the ideal pattern to swirl his tongue over your clitoral region, leaving you panting for air.

He pushed two fingers deep within you, and you felt your walls clenching around them, sucking him in. His pace was fast, and he was still paying careful attention to your clit, leaving you close to the edge. You were a mess, and it wouldn't take long for you to cum. Yet you still needed him; you wanted more.

You sucked in a sharp breath and tried to block out the inappropriate sounds echoing through the kitchen.

“Sanji, p-please more”

"Use your words, my angel." You could see the glistening fluids from your pussy plastered on his chin when he pushed his head off of your thighs. “What do you want?”

“Fuck me, oh g-gods. I need you inside me." At your words, he groaned and took both of his fingers out to direct his cock at your entrance.

It wasn't difficult for him to enter since you were so soaked. At the feeling of it, you both simultaneously moaned. You felt completely filled; he just stood there for a while, waiting for you to get used to the size, until you signaled for him to start moving. It began off slow, but soon he started out moving his hips at a faster pace to satisfy both of you.

"You're perfect,” he moaned in two thrusts, and you had to put your hand over your mouth. “Look at you, taking my cock so well, oh darling.”

The hands on your hips let go and grabbed you under your right thigh, opening your legs and hitting you more deeply and faster. You thought you were seeing stars when he hit an exact spot inside your pussy that made you shout.

“Cum for me, my love. I know you want”

It didn't take long for your orgasm to hit you after that, your eyes rolled back and you let out a whine sound as you felt your walls squeeze his dick. He moaned along with you at the feeling and a few more thrusts and he came inside you.

Sanji's head fell directly to your shoulder, and you instinctively placed your palm in his blond locks. While the fluid was slowly dripping out of you, he continued to remain deep inside and breathe loudly.

He raised his head only to smile recklessly while glancing into your mouth. “So, do you still have a headache?”

Your hand reached out to push him, but you were helpless to suppress the giggles that came. He drew away from inside you but was still between your knees as he chuckled proudly.

“Do you think anyone heard?”

“I'm not sure, maybe when you let out that screa-" You slapped him on the shoulder to cut him off while embarrassed because of the probability. “Ok, ok my darling, next time we’ll find a more private place.”

“Next time, huh?

Sanji stood still with an anxious smile on his face; it was almost hilarious how someone so confident in themselves would respond in that manner. You wrapped his neck with both of your arms and gave him a quick kiss to reassure him that everything was fine.

"You should come to the kitchen more often, preferably alone.”

"And you should go shirtless more often too.”

"Only for you, my love.”

You gave him another kiss before leaving the counter, getting ready to go, and returning to the bedroom. Even though the night seemed to be becoming lighter, you were aware that there were still a few hours until sunrise. It was evident that there would be plenty of issues to address when you awoke, but for the time being, you were content, even though you were a little exhausted from the activities. As sleep came, all you could think of was Sanji and his smile.

6K notes · View notes

sometimesanalice · 8 months

Text

Bedside Manner

Summary: You were expecting the perfect summer afternoon with the Daggers, but when a game of dogfight football takes a turn for the worse, you’re left with a bleeding head and an aching heart. And it’s up to Bradley to show you his bedside manner.

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 8K

Warnings: A little angst, a little pining, and two idiots in love.

It’s a perfect summer afternoon. Well, almost.

The sun is high in the sky and the steady salt kissed ocean breeze keeps it from being too uncomfortably hot. The coolers are filled with beers and sodas and a few pink cans of rosé that Coyote had brought. And the beach blankets were littered with open half-eaten family sized bags of chips and cubes of bright pink watermelon and containers of various dips and ziplocs with sun warmed and mostly melted chocolate chip cookies.

“You guys, really, I’m fine,” you state as adamantly as you can given the circumstances.

Sure, you have Jake’s t-shirt pressed against your throbbing, bleeding head. Sure, you are a little afraid to put your full weight on your left ankle and already dreading the long walk back to your car.

But it’s fine, you’re fine. Everything is…peachy. Or it will be as soon as they all stop looking at you like you’re about to crumple to the ground like some 1920’s silent film starlet from on the silver screen.

Nat has that deep pinch between her sharp brown eyes. Jake’s lips are pressed together in a firm white line. The rest of the team stands hovering around you in a misshapen semicircle, all sandy and sweaty, and wearing the concern painted across their faces.

All except for Rooster, who can’t seem to look at you at all.

“Clearly, you’re not,” Phoenix says flatly, clearly unamused by your attempts to minimize the situation. And you wish that just this once she could have let this go and follow your lead. But then she wouldn’t be Natasha Trace.

Your best friend since middle school had always been the most capable and sharpest person in the room and you loved that about her.

Normally.

But not so much when her keen assessment of you keeps you from being able to slink away quietly without fuss.

“No, seriously. It’s just a little scratch. It’s not a big deal.” It sounds feeble even to your own ears. Trying to hold back a wince when the way you shake your head makes starbursts bloom behind your eyes.

You could have dealt with the pounding in your head if it weren’t for the relentless burning of your ankle that was only making things worse. One or the other would have been easier to manage, but both vying for your attention as the pain pulses with every heartbeat was miserable.

The sun was too hot, the kids frolicking the ocean were too loud, the sunscreen on your skin felt too greasy. All you wanted was a shower and your bed and to forget this whole day even happened.

You look around the group trying to gauge how successful your efforts are, but it’s clear that no one seems to be buying your brand of poorly performed bullshit. You wanted to crawl into yourself like a hermit crab, protected by your own shell, as six pairs of eyes all looked on at you sympathetically, while the pretty brown ones you wanted to see the most were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses and trained down at the ground.

It was supposed to be a fun day.

You’d woken up that morning absolutely giddy about trading spreadsheets for sand and sunburns and sea salt tangled hair. Your cheery, new swimsuit already laid out and waiting for you from the night before.

There was something thrilling about hooky on a Friday with all of your favorite people that made you feel all kinds of young and free. Well, hooky for you. They’d been given the day off after a month of intensive training and testing of some new defensive software. They all deserved the break and you were more than happy to tag along.

You were always the good kid in school, never skipping, never missing a class. You’d felt like a rebellious teen as you crafted your ‘out of office’ email, a smug grin on your face like you were getting away with something. Even though you’d earned the right to use that PTO whichever way you wanted.

The anticipation of a snow day from your childhood school days had nothing on the intoxicating promise of a beach day on a golden summer Friday.

The team must have felt the same way too because the group chat the night before had been chaotically amusing. The excitement was palpable enough that you’d almost think you all lived in some landlocked state rather than San Diego, where it felt like all roads led to the beach whether you wanted them to or not.

Somewhere between the string of all capitalized sentences and exclamation points with a few well-chosen emojis scattered throughout, Natasha had managed to wrangle everyone in enough into sorting out who was responsible for bringing what. There wouldn’t be another veggie platter incident, not on her watch.

You’d felt bright and effervescent as you’d pulled into the parking lot, your eyes reflexively seeking out a blue Bronco that hadn’t arrived yet. With a beach chair over one shoulder and a beach bag over the other and a packed cooler bag in your hand, you’d made towards the multicolored sprawl of blankets and the striped peaks of the umbrellas, where you were met with the smiling faces of shiny happy people.

Some of the boys had rushed over to help you carry your things and added your offerings to the communal pile of snacks and sunscreen and bottles of water. It had been easy to fall into conversation with everyone as you set up your own little patch of paradise and shimmied out of your frayed cut-offs. Natasha had given you a wolf whistle and you’d laughed as you give her the finger.

And hour and a half later with an easy grin on his face, carrying a case of beer and two big Ziploc bags stuffed with what you learned later were homemade cookies balanced on top, was Rooster.

You’ve had plenty of beach days with them but every time you saw him in those damn denim shorts he always seemed determined to wear, regardless of how impractical they were, your mind still went a little fizzy as you took in just how well they clung to his thighs.

He’d taken the ribbing from his squad in stride as he unboxed the beers and added them to the collection already chilling in Bob’s bright yellow cooler. You were trying- and failing- to read your worn paperback book when he’d surprised you by plopping his things next to yours on your oversized towel and stole a chunk of juicy watermelon off of the plate balanced on your lap.

“Hey, book worm,” he grinned as he popped it into his mouth, “How’s my favorite girl doing?” That smile of his getting bigger when you rolled your eyes at him.

“Hi, Rooster,” you’d said looking at him from over the top of your sunglasses with an amused smirk.

And if your cheeks felt warm, it was from the sun and not the teasing tone of his raspy voice.

When he’d shrugged off his shirt to apply the sunscreen you’d brought with him in mind, the wink he’d shot you went straight to your head like champagne. The sun highlighting his impressive abs and sculpted shoulders didn’t help either as he took great efforts to cover his chest and stomach with the lotion. He had to be doing it on purpose, because he’d kept rubbing it in well past when the white hue faded. But who were you to complain? Melanoma was no joke.

“You wanna help me out?” he’d asked turning his back to you, looking over his shoulder. You’re pretty sure that he’d been flexing because he’d looked impossibly broad, every defined muscle standing out for eyes to map out and explore.

You’d been at war with yourself, because while your eager hands were desperate to touch him, you also knew that once you ran your hands along his solid frame that you’d never want to stop. That you wouldn’t be content until your fingertips had traced every inch of him.

You had been blessedly and devastatingly spared the choice.

“I got you, Rooster. My hands are already all sunscreen-y,” chimed in Bob, who had just finished rubbing his own freshly applied layer. “Wouldn’t want it to get on her book.”

You were only half relieved to be off the hook, while Bradley on the other hand was still looking at you expectantly, almost hopefully, still with the white and yellow bottle of sunscreen partly extended towards you.

“That’s so sweet of you, Bob-” you’d started.

“Yeah, so sweet-” Bradley grumbled under his breath.

“I appreciate you sparing my pages the sunscreen grease,” you’d said shooting Bob a smile, choosing to ignore Bradley’s comment completely. “Plus, your hands are bigger than mine. You’ll have him covered in no time.”

Bradley looked between you and Bob before he passed the bottle to the other man, shaking his head a little in defeat. You’d giggled to yourself as you wiggled your book at an openly brooding Bradley, and then leaned back on your elbows to observe the way the attentive WSO made sure to carefully and thoroughly cover Bradley’s entire back.

Respectfully, of course.

Behind your sunglasses you’d admired all of Bradley’s bulk compared to Bob’s lithe grace. But in your defense, they were standing right in front of you and you’d already reread your book at least five times in the past, so it wasn’t nearly as interesting as the scene in front of you had been.

“You look awfully comfortable over there,” Rooster called out with a raised eyebrow.

“Just taking in the view,” you’d teased back.

“Yeah, I bet you are,” he huffed as Bob finished up, giving him a thanks, man before tossing you back the bottle of sunscreen. He’d nudged his sunglasses down his nose and pinned you with his gaze, “Let me know if you want me to get your back. My hands are just as capable as his.” Even in the high heat of summer, the way he’d looked at you sent chills running along your arms.

You felt the way his keen eyes traveled from your face, down the deep-v of your swimsuit and along the swells of your breasts, and down your legs to your freshly painted toes. His mouth had ticked up in the corner then left you reeling and your heart pounding away in your chest as he’d strut off to go join Fanboy and Coyote by the mountain of snacks.

And that was the thing about Bradley Bradshaw. You never knew if he was just flirt-y or flirt-ing.

You hadn’t had a crush in ages, but when Nat had introduced you to her team five months ago, the man with the sunkissed curls and surprisingly attractive mustache had immediately caught your eye.

And as you’d gotten to know him, it had only gotten worse.

Not only was he very nice to look at and could make you laugh until your sides ached, but he also he had depth about him in a way that most men your age didn’t. You liked talking to him and listening to his stories. You liked learning his perspective on things. You liked being around him.

He made you feel interesting and special and funny and seen. You’ve never felt as comfortable in your own skin as you did when you were around him.

Rooster would send you flirty winks, give you less than subtle once overs, and could flash you such devastating slow grins that they’d have you trying to catch the butterflies they released in your stomach for hours after you went home.

But he’s never made a move.

If only he wouldn’t play hide and seek with his true intentions.

You felt like you were still waiting on some small clue whether he was serious or not. You didn’t know if he was just having fun with you or if he was into you and it was more than just friendly banter. It would be so much easier if he’d straight up tell you one way or another.

Needless to say, you’d let Nat be the one to help you with your sunscreen a little bit later. The idea of Bradley’s big hands on you, gliding along your sun-warmed skin and under the crisscross straps of your swimsuit, was too much for your hummingbird heart.

The sun climbed higher into the sky as the butter yellow midmorning transformed into a Midas-touched golden afternoon.

The squad had been able to reserve a fire pit and the plan had been to stay until the sunset. An endless summer day stretching out before them like a cat. They had nothing but time.

Clusters of people came together and split apart like a kaleidoscope as some went to take a dip in the ocean or raid the cooler and snack spread or go for a walk along the shore. Changing and shifting with the direction of the wind, going where the mood took them.

And for a peaceful moment, it had been you with your book and a napping Bradley sprawled out next to you on your towel with his arm flung over his eyes. Close enough that you could feel his warmth, almost but not quite touching. The sound of his soft breaths and the waves their own kind of lullaby as you contentedly read your book, turning your pages quietly to not disturb the man next to you, as the droplets of the Pacific dried on your skin.

You still don’t know how you got roped into playing a round of dogfight football with the Navy’s best and brightest. You were more of a corn hole or ladder toss kind of girl, but Coyote had all but thrown you over his shoulder and dragged you out before you’d agreed to participate, conceding your defeat.

You were on a team with Hangman, Coyote, Fanboy against Nat, Rooster, Payback, and Bob. A few plays in and you had been getting the hang of it. They’d all been making sure to take care to go easy on you even in the chaos of two teams playing offensively and defensively at the same time. You were more than a little out of breath, but you were having fun.

Before the next snap, Mickey gave the most impassioned pep talk you’d ever heard, “Fuck luck, we don’t need luck. We gotta fucking win.” You had been about to laugh, but then you’d seen the looks on Jake and Javy’s faces and decided against it. Curious about the other team, you’d glanced over only to see Rooster looking back at you.

The calls had been made, the blur of plays in motion as people whirled and dodged and sprinted.

You’d just lobbed the ball to Javy before darting around Nat when a big, solid body collided with you. Hard. You’d felt the twinge of your ankle twisting in the sand right before the force sent you flying in the opposite direction you’d been headed.

The impact had been jarring. The air knocked from your lungs.

Where you should have been met with a mouthful of gritty sand, instead your head had connected with the rough surface of a partially buried rock. The low, thick thud reverberating throughout your whole body.

You’d been so stunned that you didn’t even register you were even on the ground until you heard the chorus of oh fucks and holy shits and goddamns and jesus christs over the ringing in your ears.

The game coming to an immediate and conclusive end.

For how many empty bottles and cans were sitting collected in a trash bag off to the side of your beach set up, they had been surprisingly quick to act as you blinked blankly, trying to clear the spots from your vision.

It was a silent ballet of efficiency as they instinctively fell into their roles, much like you imagined they did the sky. Everyone stepping up and then stepping back as they did their part, like the ebb and flow of waves.

Nat had carefully poured some fresh water from a bottle on your face to remove the sand that clung to the sweat and sunscreen on your skin. Then Jake had wordlessly passed her his clean spare shirt he’d jogged of to get to help stop the bleeding after Javy checked on your pupils to make sure they were the same size. While Bob stood off to the side holding your warped sunglasses in his hands, as if he was hopeful they could still be salvaged. Mickey and Reuben had been waiting in the wings giving you space, ready to help if they were needed, but not wanting to not crowd in.

And from the corner of your eye, you’d caught Rooster standing a couple feet away with his hands in his hair looking absolutely wrecked.

“Bradley?” you’d tried, even though his name stuck to your teeth. But he’d just shook his head at you before turning away slightly, like he couldn’t look at you, which made your heart sting as well.

They only allowed you to move to sit up after they were content with the answer to their questions- What day is it? Friday. Where are you? San Diego. What else hurts? My ankle and my pride.

It wasn’t until someone hauled you up from underneath your armpits that the throbbing and stinging and aching settled over you. The pain seeping and spreading through muscle and bone like an inky oil spill.

It’s still an almost perfect summer afternoon except for the fact you hate everything about this.

You hate the way they’re gathered around you with too many pairs of assessing eyes pinned on you. You hate that you’re the reason the game of dogfight football came to a definitive and abrupt end. You hate that you’re the reason their carefree and fun afternoon off has turned into this.

There’s a pressure building behind your eyes, the hot tears of hurt and frustration and embarrassment are clamoring to be released. You have to bite your lower lip to keep it from trembling.

And it doesn’t help that you’re the type who’d rather lick your wounds in peace.

You just need to get back to your car and you can figure things out on your own from there. You just need a moment to yourself.

As you open your mouth to argue your case again, Jake puts his hand up and stops you before you’ve even had a chance to start, “I hate to break it to you, sugar, but you’re not fooling any of us.” He says it gently, but gives you a pointed look at the way you’re leaning heavily on your right leg to keep the pressure off of your left ankle.

“That head wound is not a little scratch. Just like your ankle isn’t just a little puffy, when it’s twice the size it should be. You need to go to the Emergency Room,” Nat says, final and resolute. A lifetime of friendship has taught you not to argue when she has that look in her eyes, the one that says try me, I dare you.

They all talk over you as they figure out who is the most sober of the group after your suggestion to call yourself an Uber is immediately shot down. Drinks are being counted on fingers, and memories are searched to make sure every sip and bottle and can is accounted for.

Your eyes drift over to the man who is still actively avoiding looking at you, even as he talks to everyone else on the team. You aren’t paying too close attention to what he is saying, but you can hear the short, clipped staccato of his words.

Bradley’s shoulders are tinged a little pink even though you know for a fact that you had purposely passed him the 65 SPF. His eyes are hidden behind his dark green tinted sunglasses, but you don’t need to see them when you can read his body language better than any book.

His arms are crossed firmly over his chest, the tendons in his forearms flexing and shifting, like he is squeezing and releasing his fists from where they’re tucked under his biceps. Everything in his body looks coiled tight and strained, so at odds with the easy going and loose-limbed man you know him to be.

You don’t realize just how much you’ve zoned out until Natasha has to say your name a couple time before you pull your gaze away from Bradley and back to her.

“Ok, it’s settled,” Nat informs you, “Rooster’s going to take you.” You barely nod your head in acknowledgement when she tells you, because it feels like you’ve been punched in the stomach now too.

“It’s the least he can do,” Jake drawls.

“That’s not fair-” you start, defensively.

“Fuck off, Bagman-” Rooster snaps.

The rage in his voice shocks you, you’ve never heard that much heat from him before. There’s none of the teasing tone that usually underscores their banter. Jake puts both of his hands up placatingly like my bad, folks and Javy just shakes his head and sighs.

And this time when you look at Bradley, he is finally looking back at you with a deep furrow in his brow. His jaw is clenched tight, that muscle ticking and jumping, as he takes in the way you have Jake’s t-shirt pressed against your forehead.

Not exactly the way you’d hoped he’d be looking at you when you put on your new blue and white striped swimsuit this morning.

The one you’d bought because you wanted to make him look.

Just not like this.

With everything sorted the rest of the team trickles away a smattering of take cares and get better soons and let us know if you need anythings. But not before Mickey hands Rooster his stuff and passes Nat your bag and sandals. He gives you the gentlest of squeezes on your shoulder before he leaves to join everyone else back on little part of the beach you all had claimed before things went to shit.

Your group of eight now downsized to a trio.

Bradley is quick to roughly pull on his tank and shirt, and Nat fishes out your car keys from your bag as she waits for him to slip his shoes on. When he’s ready she passes it to him and he silently slides it over his arm.

Nat bends down to help gingerly glide your feet into your sandals, “I’ll grab the rest your things and drop them off at your place and then one of the boys will drop off your car later. We’ve got it all covered, ok?”

“Thanks, Nat,” you say quietly, trying to hold back a wince as she slips the left one on, your ankle pulsing in tempo with your heartbeat.

“Best friends don’t say thank you, they just do,” she says matter-of-factly as she stands. It’s the same thing you’d told her after you’d dumped a carton of strawberry milk on Carly Radke for outing Natasha your freshman year in high school. It was only time you’d ever gotten detention, but it had been worth it.

“They just do,” you repeat with a small smile.

You’re so grateful that your friendship with her is one that has spanned years. That you’ve been able seen one another grow and change and come into their own, but that you haven’t outgrown each other. She’s the person you want by your side and having your back. There is no one quite like Natasha Trace.

She turns to Bradley and you watch him stand a little taller under her sharp eyes, your straw tote still dangling from his forearm.

“You good?” Nat asks him with a look in her eye that you can’t place. And you’re reminded that even though she’s your best friend, that he has also earned a spot as one of her closest friends. Their relationship built over years and experiences that you could never fully understand. Different, but just as deep.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got her. I’ll take care of her,” Rooster promises with a stiff nod, as he gives her his word. It might have made your heart beat a little faster if you didn’t feel like such a burden. That it’s simply a twist of fate and three less drinks than everyone else for the reason that he’s the one to look after you. That he’s the one stuck with you.

“I know you will,” she says softer now, patting his shoulder, “Keep me posted.” Nat presses a kiss to your cheek and gives you an encouraging smile then heads off to go rejoin everyone else.

You watch her go with longing. The cheerful beach set up with its colorful blankets and umbrellas looks more like a desert mirage now. The sweet coconut scented potential of what the day could have been now forever out of reach.

And then it’s just you and Bradley and the sound of the waves and cries of seagulls.

The two of you silent and motionless.

You feel one wrong move and the fragile attempt of the stiff upper lip you’ve cocooned yourself in will crack open and all the soft parts of you will seep out into the sand beneath your feet.

His expression is shuttered closed as he bends a bit like he is going to pick you up.

“Woah, buddy, what are you doing?” You’re squinting into the sun as you look at him. You’d step into his shadow to block it, since you’re now in need of a new pair of sunglasses, but that would mean moving to the left which isn’t an option with your ankle.

“Buddy,” he grunts under his breath, slipping off his sunglasses and carefully putting them on your face, being mindful of stinging scrapes and wad of soft cotton you’re holding to your head. “They’re definitely going to have to run concussion protocol on you,” he mutters more to himself than to you, “I’m taking you to the Bronco and then we’re going the ER, remember?”

“Yeah, I know, Rooster,” you grit out, even rolling your eyes hurts, “But I don’t need you to carry me.”

Everything about this was excruciating and embarrassing enough without him being the Clark Gable to your Vivian Leigh. Maybe you could lean on him and hop over to his car? Like a six-foot-one pair of crutches with good hair.

“Take a step without wincing and I’ll think about it,” he says firmly, pointedly calling your bluff. There’s an expectant look of go on then, whenever you’re ready on his face. Because he knows he’s right, and you do too.

You don’t even bother to make a move, but the way your lower lips wobbles speaks volumes.

“That’s what I thought,” he says quietly, almost like pains him to be right.

He bends a little to hook his arms around your knees and back to lift you up, and this time you let him. Your free arm automatically wrapping around the back of his neck. And he starts off towards the winking windshields of the parking lot.

You’ve thought about what it would be like to be wrapped up in Bradley’s arms, how good it would feel to be pressed closed against him. And now you are and it’s nothing like you’ve imagined, because there isn’t anything sweet or swoon-worthy about how you ended up in them. You’re his duty, you’re not his desire.

All your sandcastle hopes have been washed away by the tide.

You’re so frustrated. You’re frustrated by the day, by yourself, by him.

This time you can’t blink back the tears that well up in your eyes. They flood through your tear ducts carving hot trails down your sun-tinged cheeks.

You want the Bradley from earlier.

The one who stole your watermelon with warmth in his eyes.

The one who dozed next to you in the sun like a cat, his features soft free of the tension he now holds in his shoulders.

You want your Bradley.

The one who’d whispered cheeky comments in your ear whenever the team got into lighthearted tequila fueled arguments about things like whether a hot dog was a sandwich.

The one who’d always go up to the bar with you on busy nights at the Hard Deck and make sure you didn’t get bumped into on the way back to your friends with your freshly refilled drinks.

You’re aching, aching. Everywhere.

For a brief moment, as you swipe at your tears, you’re happy for the throbbing in your head and ankle, so that way you don’t have to think about the stinging in your heart.

“I know, I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I know you’re hurting,” Rooster says gentle and low as you sniffle, but you can hear the thickness of the words in his throat. The term of endearment is the sweetest of nothings, making your tears come faster. Where it should ease the heartache, all it does is make you angry at yourself for giving your emotions away. “We’re almost to the Bronco. It’s ok, we’re gonna get you taken care of, I promise.”

We.

You wanted that with him.

You want to press both of your hands to his cheeks to make him look you in the eyes to ask him is it going to be you and me together? You’ve been a fool for love before, but you didn’t know if could take another hit-and-run with your heart.

The salt of your tears makes your cheeks feel tight and itchy as the summer breeze dries them on your skin.

Bradley carries you like you weigh nothing, but cradles you like you’re the most precious things he’s ever held. He’s mindful of any dips in the sand and gives wide berth around the college kids playing volleyball close to the entry back to the parking lot.

When he reaches the Bronco, he sets you down gently, making sure both of your feet are planted on the asphalt before letting go of you to unlock his car. He tells you to wait a moment when you move to open the passenger side door.

“I never know when I might get called up for an emergency deployment, so I like to have some extra clothes just in case,” he explains as he digs around in the backseat, pulling out a pair of gray athletic shorts.

“Oh.” And you realize you’re still just clad in your striped swimsuit. “Thank you for sparing me from the hospital germs,” you say lightly, an attempt at a joke to break the ice. One that doesn’t land, since instead of cracking a grin he just presses his lips together in a firm line and nods.

Bradley crouches low in front of you and you put a hand on his shoulder for balance as you lean against the Bronco, still trying to keep as much pressure off your left ankle as possible as you step into them. He’s looking up at you and even through his sunglasses perched on your nose, you swear his brown eyes get a shade darker as he eases the shorts up your legs. You’re touched by the effort as he ties the strings in a lopsided bow, even if things are feeling tense between the two of you.

“Think this’ll be easier,” he mumbles shrugging off his light blue button up. You’ve always liked this one, with its soft pastel pink and minty green watercolor prints of net fishermen and hula girls and palm trees.

He holds it open for you, helping you thread your arm through it, and then takes over holding Jake’s now ruined shirt to your head so that you can get your other arm past the sleeve. It smells like him, citrus and amber. Your fingers brush against each other when you reclaim the makeshift bandage, and he adjusts his shirt so that it hangs over your shoulders just right.

It’s an awkward kind silent as Rooster helps lift you into the Bronco with his strong hands around your hips. He is all smooth efficiency as he buckles you in with a click. You pass him back his sunglasses the same moment he hands you your tote bag, and it almost feels like a hostage exchange.

He says nothing as he hauls himself into the driver’s side. The car rumbles to life when he turns the key in the ignition and a cheery song from the 80’s station on the radio comes on. Bradley quick to turn the volume down low. His thumb brushing your shoulder as he sets his hand on the back of your seat to look behind him as he carefully backs out of the spot.

It’s never felt this strained with him before.

It’s so painfully obvious that the two of you are walking on eggshells around each other. You can almost feel the wall that’s gone up around him. The white noise of the radio drowned out by the hum of the road as he drives in near silence.

Your day has been most effectively ruined by a chunk of sedimentary rock, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still recoup what’s left of it.

He could still have the perfect summer afternoon.

He could still go back to your friends and their perfect beach set up and laugh with them as Coyote keeps accidentally setting marshmallows on fire. He could still catch the bold oranges and soft pinks of the sunset with all the satisfied contentment he deserved to experience.

“You can leave me and go back, you know. I’ll be ok if you just want drop me off and then head back to the beach,” you say looking down at your fingers as you trace the stitching of his leather seats.

When he doesn’t answer right away, you glance over at him. The vein in his neck is standing out boldly against the column of his throat.

“Do I seem like the kind of guy who would leave someone at the ER alone?” he asks, his voice rougher than sandpaper.

“No. No, of course not,” you say emphatically, “That’s why I’m giving you permission.”

“Permission?” he scoffs with a shake of his head.

“Yes, permission,” you say, clipped.

You’re giving him an out, why doesn’t he get that?

He heaves a big sigh and grunts. “Is it… Would you rather have Bob- with his big hands- here instead?” Bradley asks, frustration leaking out around the edges of his words.

“Bob with his big hands?” you repeat baffled, “What does Bob have to do with anything about this?”

“That’s what you said earlier, sweetheart. I’m just citing the source. Or I can call Phoenix? Or…” he pauses glancing at the t-shirt pressed to your head, “Or even Seresin. Once we get you checked in I can call any of them an Uber or something, and they can be there with you, if you don’t want me.”

“No, Rooster, I don’t want anyone else.” You wince at the implication and hope it doesn’t read into it further than the current situation to two of you are wading through like quick sand.

“Ok, good,” he grumbles.

“Great,” you lob back.

His hand tightens on the steering wheel, the knuckles turning white, “Then where is this even coming from?” The action makes his thick forearm flex in this most delicious of ways that you’d appreciate more if you didn’t feel the anger simmering low in your stomach.

“It’s pretty damn clear that you’d rather be back there, Rooster. Or literally anywhere else right now.” You flip down the sun visor with more force than it deserves, regretting that you gave him his sunglasses back when the bright California sun in your eyes turns your headache into a full-blown migraine.

“Of course, I’d rather be anywhere else!” he says hotly, tossing his sunglasses back in your lap, “Do you think I like that you’re hurt and that we’re on our way to the hospital?” You shove them on your face with an angry huff.

A car speeds by blaring their horn as they pass by.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Fuck off,” he grunts but speed of the Bronco doesn’t change, “Asshole.”

Bradley’s driving five miles under the posted limit, and you know for a fact he religiously drives at least ten miles over. And his turns have been smoother than butter, as if he is trying not to jostle you anymore than you’d already been today.

You are so tired of this hot and cold thing that he’s doing. His words and his deeds weren’t going hand in hand. He keeps giving you the cold shoulder, but is also so in tune with your every movement and need.

Gingerly, you angle yourself in your seat to look at him better, resting your tired left arm on the back of your seat and taking in his strong profile.

“Why are you being like this?” you demand, waving your free hand in a vaguely in his general direction.

“Like what? I’m not being like anything,” he retorts, making the same vague hand gesture as you did a moment earlier.

And oh, if that doesn’t fill your chest with hot indignation. That low simmering anger has turned into a full roiling boil as you shift in your seat trying to get your ankle in a position where it doesn’t hurt.

“Seriously, Rooster? I can feel tension rolling off of you in waves. You’ve been like this since everything turned to complete shit on the beach. I didn’t mean to ruin your day, I’m just trying to figure out how to make things better,” you bite out unable to keep things bottled up anymore.

He sucks in a sharp breath, “Are you kidding me right now? You think you ruined my day?” He glances from the road to you and back again, his brown eyes wide and searching.

“Yes?” Or so you’d thought until you’d seen the shock written all over his face, but now you weren’t so sure. It’s like you’ve dumped ice water on him instead of simply calling him out. “I feel like you’re taking it out on me and I don’t know why.”

“Jesus Christ,” Rooster swears under his breath, shaking his head. “I’m so damn sorry, sweetheart. I’m mad at myself, because I ruined your day. I should have been more careful, I should have been looking out for you. It’s not like you’re hard to miss in that swimsuit.” Your cheeks heat up at the comment, but you choose to ignore it.

Misery drips from his words like spilled ink off a page. You knew he was upset, but you didn’t realize he was upset about that. That he’s shouldering this fluke of fate as if it is his burden to bear. Some of the anger you’ve been feeling leaves your body like the tide washing out back out to sea. You’re still upset at him for how he has been acting up until this point, but you’re not mad at him about that.

“Bradley, no. It was an accident.”

“Yeah, an accident I’m responsible for,” he says hoarsely, rubbing roughly at his forehead. “God, I can still hear the sound it made when you hit that rock and it makes me feel sick. I would give anything to undo that moment. I need you to know that.”

He is being so hard on himself and your heart squeezes, this time in sympathy rather than hurt. He didn’t place that rock in the sand, the both of you were victims of circumstance.

“It could have happened to anyone. It could have been anyone,” you press delicately, trying to get him to hear you, shifting in your seat again still uncomfortable.

The sunshine bounces off of his slumped shoulders as he sighs raggedly.

“But it happened to you and it’s my fault. You’re bleeding, you’re in pain, and you’ve been crying. And it’s because of me.” He reaches down with his right hand and lifts up your leg so that you can rest it on his thigh, some of the ache alleviating immediately. He asks quietly, “That better?”

“Yes, thank you,” you murmur. He looks so upset, and all you want to do is curl into his lap. You want to hold him and you want to be held by him. “You know I don’t blame you, right?”

You expect him to move his hand back to the steering wheel, but he keeps it on your leg. His thumb stroking your still slightly sandy shin. Your cheery toenail polish at odds with the color blooming around your ankle.

Bradley’s throat bobs as he swallows hard, “Yeah, I do. I know that. But I still blame myself.”

The Bronco rolls to a soft stop at the light. There’s enough traffic that you know you’ll be here for a bit, and so does he since he turns in his seat to look fully at you. You take his sunglasses off, tucking them into the pocket of his shirt that rests above your heart, so nothing stands between his brown eyes and yours.

“So, you’re going to keep beating yourself up over it and icing me out? Making me feel worse? For what, Bradley? Because you’re a glutton for punishment? That’s not fair to me or to you.”

“Shit,” he mutters, his left hand running through his curls. “You’re right and I’m so sorry. I’ve been in my head feeling so damn guilty that I’ve been such an asshole. Can you forgive me?”

You’re about to answer him that when a horn startles you, making you jump in the leather seat. You see the light is green, the car that had been in front of you is gliding through the intersection passing under a blue sign pointing the way to the hospital.

“Bradley, the light.”

The car behind the two of you honks their horn again.

“They can wait. This is important, you are important. Do you forgive me?” There’s an underscore of need that punctuates his question.

“Yes, of course,” you say easily and sincerely. There’s so much remorse in his eyes, you would have forgiven him with that look alone.

“Thank you,” he breathes out in relief. And then he smiles at you for the first time since the beach and that ache in your heart is completely soothed, bandaged by that soft way he is looking at you.

Atlas no longer, he can simply be Bradley.

He takes his foot off the brake and by some miracle he’s able to make it through the light before it turns red again. You can see the tall structure of the parking lot near the hospital poking out above the line of the treetops.

The destination is closer than ever, but there are still things on your mind.

“And you aren’t an asshole, Bradley. But your bedside manner could definitely use some work,” you tease with a smile of your own.

“Baby, I’ve been trying to show you my bedside manner, but you keep holding me at arm’s length,” he groans dramatically.

The idea of experiencing Bradley Bradshaw’s bedside manner makes you feel all kinds of weak in the knees, even as you’re seated in his Bronco with your leg propped up in his lap, his big hand skating up and down along your shin comfortingly.

“How can you even say that with a straight face? You’ve never made a move!” you exclaim incredulously, “I was even the one to ask for your phone number, if you remember.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I hit on you all the time,” he argues with your favorite brand of Bradshaw banter, “I’ve been waiting for you to give me the green light, sweetheart.”

“I thought you were supposed to be pretty and smart,” you smirk.

He barks a laugh and the last tendrils of all the tension and all the pressure that had been swirling around you like a marine layer evaporates.

“You saying I’ve had the green light this whole time?” He looks over at you with a boyish smile, you like the way you feel when he looks at you like this.

“What I’m saying, Bradley, is if you’d have actually asked me out I would have said yes.” You press your toes into the muscle of his thick thigh and immediately regret it, wincing as pain ripples around your ankle.

He makes a sympathetic sound deep in his chest, “Sounds like I’ve been an idiot.”

“A very pretty one,” you allow, leaning your aching head back against the back seat.

“At least there’s that,” he concedes good-naturedly as he pulls into the parking lot, turning on his blinker for a spot opening up near the entrance to the Emergency Room by some twist of fate, one that’s in your favor this time.

Bradley pulls into the empty spot and kills the engine turning to you. He gently eases your foot back down onto the sandy floormat of the Bronco and leans into unbuckle your seatbelt.

He’s so close now looking up at you from under his eyelashes, and your breath catches in your throat. He moves closer, you can see the bits of hazel that surround his pupils. Your eyes flutter close and you tilt your head up, lips parting at the anticipation of his kiss.

There’s no holding back the noise of dissatisfaction you make when his lips press a tender kiss to your cheek. You lean into him wanting to feel, wanting him to give you more. His warm breath coasts over your skin as he chuckles. You can feel the way his lips are pulled up into a smile.

“I’m a gentleman, sweetheart,” he says as he pulls away, his eyes lingering on your lips. “My mom raised me not to go for the kiss on the first date. Or ones with head wounds and potential concussions.”

“Some first date,” you lament jokingly, looking in at the fluorescent lights awaiting you inside the hospital. You’d rather skip over this part entirely, but you’re ready to be done with holding Jake’s shirt to your head. “Nothing like insurance cards and scrubs to really set the mood.”

“Mmm. How about this, after we’re done here, I’ll take you through whatever drive-thru you want-”

“In-N-Out,” you cut in without a second thought. The novelty of it still hasn’t worn off on you, even if the fries are terrible.

“Ok,” he grins, “I’ll take you through in In-N-Out and get you your number two combo with mustard and grilled onions with a vanilla shake.” He pauses waiting for your nod of approval, looking more than pleased with himself when you acknowledge he got your order right.

“I like the sound of this so far,” you hum.

“Well that’s good. Since it’ll be our first date, I want to set that bar high,” he says giving you a wink. And there are those butterflies again, this time you don’t try to catch them with a net. They’re free to flutter around as they wish.

“If you really want to impress me, you’ll also take me through the McDonald’s drive-thru for their fries,” you muse.

“Done.”

“I was kidding,” you laugh, shaking your head at him disbelievingly and thoroughly charmed.

“Well, I wasn’t. So after we get you fed, give or take some fries, I will bring you home. I’ll get you whatever you need, I want to make sure you’re comfortable. Think you might be on crutches for a bit, sweetheart,” he says softly, playing with the ends of your hair. “And then in the morning, if you’re up for it, I’ll take you out for breakfast. Or bring you breakfast. Whatever you want. We can call that date number two.”

“And then you’ll kiss me?”

“And then I’ll kiss you,” he promises, offering you a crooked pinky finger. You beam and you wrap your own around his.

He slips out of the driver’s seat leaving you to contemplate the terms of his offer as he rounds the front of the Bronco. The nurses are going to get an eyeful of him in only those snug jean shorts and thin white tank. You make a mental note to avoid looking at him if they have to connect you to a heart rate monitor, he doesn’t need to know the effect he has on you. Not yet anyways.

“I have counteroffer,” you announce turning your body towards him as he opens your door for you.

“Let’s hear it, baby,” he says with a grin that almost makes you forget how bad your head and ankle hurt, “Shoot.”

“We still go to In-N-Out, but then in the morning you make me breakfast in bed with some of those famous Bradshaw pancakes I’ve heard about,” you say, as he steps in between your legs, “Seems like a good way to work on that bedside manner of yours.”

“I think you’re going to like my bedside manner, sweetheart,” he murmurs, stroking his thumb over your cheek.

You tilt your head at him, taking in the sunkissed strands in his hair and the affection in his eyes, “I guess we’ll have to find out.”

“Guess we will,” he rasps.

Rooster drops another sweet kiss to your cheek, whispering for you to stay put, and then he struts off towards the automatic doors of the Emergency Room. Leaving you alone with the butterflies in your stomach and the hope in your heart.

You dig your phone out of your straw tote and check the time, doing the math in your head.

There are a few messages from Nat and other people on the team already checking in, but you know you’ll have time to reply to them later as you wait with Bradley sitting by your side.

You look up and see he’s got a wheelchair now and is making his way back to you, wearing a soft smile on his face just for you.

Only seventeen more hours until you get to kiss Bradley Bradshaw and you can’t wait.

You’ve got that forever feeling about him.

Oh, oh, oh.

Thank you for reading! Rock on. Oh that joke was schist, I'll see myself out.

This was written as part of @roosterforme's Rocktober Playlist! You can check out all the other great submissions here!

The song that inspired this story was Paula Abdul's "Straight Up"

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x female reader

3K notes · View notes

dustofthedailylife · 7 months

Text

How to Steal the Duke's Heart 101

→ Masterlist || → Taglist -> Next Part

Pairing: Wriothesley x (gn!) Reader

Summary: The moment your verdict was decided as guilty you were brought to the Fortress of Meropide - despite being innocent. Little did you know that the trip to prison would make you meet the love of your life.

Tags: Fluff, kissing, you're in prison (but innocent), some violence (not graphic), swearing

A/N: Due to me being utterly normal about Wriothesley I had the idea for this fic - who am I kidding I would commit a crime for this man.

“According to the judgment of the Oratrice Mechanique d’Analyse Cardinale, the defendant is declared… guilty.”

The voice of Chief Justice Neuvillette was ringing in your ears as he read out the verdict. Your verdict.

You couldn’t believe it. You knew you hadn’t done what you had been accused of, that the eyewitnesses had lied the moment they had opened their mouths, that the evidence had been tampered with, that you had been framed for the crime – but you were innocent. And no one was ever going to believe you.

After all, the device that had handed you the fateful false verdict was treated as infallible in Fontaine. You now at least had proof that its reputation was nothing but hollow words. But what use was the knowledge other than just a bittersweet confirmation for no one but yourself?

And before you knew it, guards were escorting you out the back of the Opera Epiclese in handcuffs. Roughly dragging you along with them into a big elevator. Down – deeper and deeper into the depths of the ocean.

You had heard stories of the Fortress of Meropide before – the secluded place where all criminals and outcasts of Fontaine resided. The place no one had ever come back from to tell the tale. At least not in one piece.

You weren’t sure how you felt on the way down the elevator but you would describe it as something akin to hollowness.

The glances the guards threw your way out of the corner of their eyes literally screamed disgust. You were nothing more than a dirty criminal to them after all – someone who was to be shunned and banished from society for all eternity. And if you really had done what you were convicted for, you wouldn’t even blame them for their disdain.

When the elevator arrived at the bottom the doors opened with a mechanical hiss. The scent of machine oil, iron, and damp moldy cellars immediately pricked at your nose and it was the exact opposite of what you’d call homely.

The guards turned you in at the reception, where a rather unpleasant woman took your mugshots before handing you over to yet another rather unfriendly man who led you even further down into the Fortress.

With every new step you took, you tried to come to terms with the fact that the sight of damp, stone, and ironclad walls as well as the lingering industrial smell was going to be your life from now on.

And the dawning realization of that was painfully pulling a tight rope around your throat. You wanted to scream, you wanted to cry and most of all, you wanted to run away and pretend like all of this was a bad dream. But you couldn't.

Instead, you were trodding behind the man who was escorting you and silently began to cry as big beads of tears soon began rolling down your cheeks.

"Crying won't help you anymore, sweetheart." The man remarked almost mockingly as soon as he looked back over his shoulder at your defeated frame. "Should've thought about that before you did some shit."

No. You’re wrong. I'm innocent.

At least that was what you wanted to spit back at him. But it was as if any fierceness or strength to stand up for yourself had left you the moment you set foot into this prison. You simply had no strength left to fight.

You soon arrived in a gigantic circular room. The contraption in the middle almost looked like a giant engine, elevators were going up one level on one side and even further down on the other side of the room. The ceiling was so high up that you almost couldn't make it out at all. The light was dim and the only real light sources were yellow lanterns whose light was bouncing off of the copper-colored iron pipes, crates, and frames that lined the entire room. Gloomy would probably be the best way to describe it.

The pungent smell of oil and damp cellar was hanging in the air here as well and probably even more prominent than it had been before. Only now it was also mixed with what you thought was old sweat and… tea? The smell of the latter seemed oddly out of place and you couldn't make out where exactly it was coming from. All you knew was that it was probably the only pleasant smell you had encountered down here.

Taking the elevator up one level again the man you had been following this entire time led you into a side hallway that looked more like a vent pipe. The dimly lit room that was lying behind it was only furnished with a bunk bed and a barely functioning lantern. He unlocked your handcuffs before roughly shoving you into the room with a smug grin on his face.

"Make yourself at home." He chuckled mockingly before turning around on his heel and leaving while whistling a tune to himself that eerily echoed off the stone walls.

You lay down on the bed, exhaling in defeat. Your throat still felt like someone had painfully tied it shut and tears were dangerously pricking at the corners of your eyes.

Now what?

You had no idea what to do here aside from sitting your time off. Where do you get food? Were you supposed to work and if yes, where do you have to and when?

You closed your eyes as a single tear escaped from the corner of your eyes, rolling down your cheek, dampening the pillow you lay on.

All you heard around you were wet droplets falling from the ceiling onto the wet stone floor, distant voices from down below, and your own breathing. The only thing that drowned these sounds out were the thoughts in your head.

Now that you had a quiet moment to yourself after everything that had gone down today, the realization about your situation was beginning to seep in for good. This bed, these walls, the oily smell… this was going to be the rest of your life now.

And that’s when you broke down and started crying once again.

Eventually, you must’ve fallen asleep because the next thing you knew was waking up to the smell of food wafting through the air vent in front of your room.

You got up from the bed, took the elevator down, and followed the smell. Soon you found yourself standing in front of a Cafeteria, where fellow inmates were queuing for lunch. Or was it dinner? You’ve barely even been here a day, but the distinct lack of daylight already made you lose track of time.

You sighed and walked over, queuing for some food as well. You didn’t have any appetite but you knew you had to eat something and your grumbling stomach was screaming for food, appetite be damned. Much to your dismay, the food needed to be paid for, well, at least the stuff that looked digestible.

You ordered the only free option and sat down with the bowl of grayish, funky-looking liquid whose consistency was more akin to that of wallpaper paste. It didn’t look appetizing, but at least it was free and would prevent you from starving.

Just as you were about to lift the first spoon of gooey pap in your mouth, someone sat down at your table, making you halt your movement for a brief second.

He placed his tray on the table with a loud bang before plopping down on the bench right in front of you. His food looked tremendously more high quality than yours. Your mouth began watering from just looking at it. Freshly made roast potatoes with rosemary, fluffy pieces of baguette with salted butter, a big juicy piece of meat – grilled to perfection, and a glass of mousse au chocolat.

He leaned forward, supporting himself on the table with his elbows, folded his hands and intensely looked at you with his piercing blue eyes. It seemed like he wasn’t in a hurry to start eating any time soon.

You pretended to ignore him and began eating. The soup, which could vaguely be identified as lentil soup, left a slimy feeling on your tongue and tasted completely bland. Every fiber of your body told you to spit it back out again but with enough willpower, you actually managed to swallow it. Not without pulling a grimace first though.

“You’re new here.” The stranger in front of you observed with curiosity.

You looked up at him, nodding slowly shoveling another spoonful of goo in your mouth before going back to ignoring him. You weren’t really interested in trying to make connections here. All you wanted was to get out of here again – even though you knew deep down that the likelihood of that was nearing zero.

“Adapting well?” He inquired, still not in a hurry to touch his food.

You suspiciously looked up at him. There was just something about this guy that was off. He didn’t quite fit in here at all. He was admittedly very handsome. He looked well groomed and his attire was way too pompous to be an inmate - or maybe he was some rich guy who got some sort of special treatment down here. Every other inmate was avoiding your table and people looked at him with an almost reverent look in their eyes. If it wasn’t for the scars that seemed to cover the majority of his body already, this just further confirmed your gut feeling to avoid this guy at all costs in the future.

“I’ll take that as a no.” He chuckled, eyeing you further with a smirk plastered on his lips.

“What do you want?” You asked, now slightly annoyed.

“Just trying to strike up some friendly conversation. You know, seeing how lost you were while ordering food, not knowing about tickets, and just dashing around like a scared blubberbeast, led me to believe that no one gave you a rundown of how this place works. So, allow me?” He remarked with that same smirk.

When you wordlessly motioned for him to continue, he began explaining the workings and rules down here in detail. Unspoken rules, general rules, what and who to avoid, how jobs worked, work times, payment and money, general daily schedule, and a lot more. There was simply so much you were beginning to feel lightheaded as soon as he had finished speaking and you could feel the lump in your throat grow in size with every minute that passed. You would never be able to live here.

“That should about cover the basics.” He finished explaining as you swallowed thickly.

You opened your mouth in order to speak but he swiftly lifted his finger to shut you up.

“No need to say anything. I know it’s not easy to adapt to a new environment. Especially not one you feel trapped in. But that feeling will fade eventually. Trust me.” He threw you a genuine smile before lifting himself up from the bench and pushing his tray with the food in your direction, pointing at it with an offering gesture.

“Welcome to the Fortress of Meropide.” He said, before striding away.

“Wait-” You jumped up from the table causing him to halt in his tracks and turn around once more. “What’s your name?”

“Wriothesley.”

After this strange encounter with the mysterious and admittedly attractive man, you didn’t see him around for a long while. This came as a surprise because you’d assume someone with his looks and attire would stick out like a sore thumb wherever he went. But it was as if the ground itself had swallowed him.

You wanted to see him again, mostly because you thought you could learn from him for your life down here. And despite your gut telling you that he was a walking red flag you had developed a strange curiosity for him.

You had begun working at the ship dockyard where a big window was offering a view into the ocean. You could somewhat make out the sky and time of day from there and it was the only thing that kept you from going completely insane in here. All you had done was sleep, work, eat, and repeat since you came here. Some people had tried speaking to you and some asked what you were here for, but you didn’t have any interest in conversing with them – especially not after you had tried telling someone that you were innocent and they had just laughed at you. Needless to say, you had no desire to connect with people – although he was the only exception seeing as you were craving to talk to him again, as much as you tried to deny it.

Today you were working at the docks again and found yourself longingly staring out of the large window. Your mind drifted off and you wondered how it would feel to simply swim back up to the surface where your lost freedom lay.

“Beautiful view, isn’t it?” A familiar voice reached your ears from behind.

“Wriothesley!”

The man in question walked up to you and came to a halt right next to you. He looked out through the window himself before looking at you from the corner of his eyes with a slight smirk.

“Still longing for the surface?” He inquired, crossing his arms over his chest. “It never fully goes away but once you get used to the Fortress you’ll find yourself unable to want to leave.”

“Is that so?” You ushered quietly, scoffing. You were simply unable to believe him, not when your freedom had been taken unjustifiably.

“Thank you for the food the other day, by the way. I didn’t have a chance to thank you yet.” You attempted to divert the topic.

“Don’t mention it.” He waved dit off with an unwavering smile. “It is almost time for lunch, have you eaten yet? We could head to the Cafeteria together. My treat.”

“Oh, you absolutely don’t have to, I have enough credits for food now that–”

“Please. I insist.”

And so you found yourself sitting at the table with Wriothesley again, with the most exquisite meal that tickets could buy down here.

You were surprised he was able to fork over nearly four thousand credits to buy the meals as if they were nothing. And especially since he treated you to such a meal as well, while everyone else down here held onto their credits as if their life depended on it. And of course, you also didn’t miss the stares of the others again when you sat down with your fancy meal.

You carefully eyed the food and then Wriothesley as if you didn’t deserve to be treated to something like this. He looked back at you with a genuine smile as he continued nibbling on his baguette.

“Anything wrong?” He asked with curiosity.

“No. It’s just… why–?”

“Why am I treating you to something?” He raised an eyebrow in amusement as if he had read your thoughts. You nodded slowly in reply.

“You’re interesting. That’s all there is to it.” He admitted with a smirk.

“I’m interesting? Me?” You raised your eyebrows in surprise. “You say that when you’re the one I could say that about. You don’t look like you fit in here at all, you have a truckload of credits to spend, and everyone here looks at you like you own the place.”

You paused for a second, eyeing him suspiciously. “You’ve been here for a long time already, haven’t you?”

“You… could say that, yeah.” He replied with a chuckle, dipping his baguette into the rich sauce on his plate.

“Why are you here?” You continued prying.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” He replied with a smug grin before he continued eating.

You couldn’t quite decide if he was a red flag you should run as far away from as possible or if you wanted to get to know him closer. But either way, your first priority for now was not letting the food go to waste so you began eating the heavenly-tasting meal.

A silence settled between you two that was surprisingly pleasant as you both quietly ate with the occasional glace thrown at each other.

Once you were both done he took your tray with him to put it into the tray cart before turning back around with a smile.

“Same time tomorrow?” He asked.

“U-uh… yeah, sure. I don’t see why not.” You stammered a bit taken aback, still confused as to why he wanted to hang out with you so much. You were a nobody with nothing to your name – not even a criminal record technically.

“Great. See you tomorrow then.”

And with that, a habit would slowly form. You would meet up for lunch each day and not long after, also for dinner. He often picked you up at the docks and bought a meal for you and only sometimes you were able to deter him from doing so and insisted that you bought your own since you were genuinely beginning to feel bad even if he seemed well off.

You sometimes sat down for a long time talking even after you both had finished eating. You chatted just about anything and as it would turn out you two seemed to share similar interests. You found out he really loved tea and had extensive knowledge in that regard. And it just so happened that you too were a fellow tea aficionado. Not only that though, you two shared a similar taste in music, books, food, and more. After a couple of weeks had gone by it felt like you had already been friends for the longest time. And much to your surprise, not once had he attempted to ask you why you were here or pried into your private life.

On another such day, you were just heading out of the dormitories towards the Cafeteria to meet up with him. But before you could arrive there someone forcefully yanked you behind some iron crates. You crashed against them with the back of your head with a loud bang, momentarily losing consciousness as pain shot through your system.

"What kinda big shot are ya, huh? What're ya sitting for?" A man yelled at you aggressively.

As soon as you got a grasp of your surroundings again, even though now extremely dizzy, you saw a big bulky guy with a missing front tooth who was pinning you against the boxes by your throat with an iron grip. He was accompanied by two other, less muscular guys who were staring at you in the same aggressive manner. His lackeys, you assumed.

"I have- I have no idea… what you're talking about." You struggled the words out due to the applied pressure on your vocal cords.

"What're ya here for, asshole?!" The man yelled at you even louder now, a few beads of spit flying right into your face through his tooth gap.

"I… I didn't do anything. I–" You gasped breathlessly as you clutched your hands around the hand around your throat, trying to alleviate some of the pressure being applied to it.

"Bullshit! You don't land here for twiddlin’ ya thumbs counterclockwise. And if the Duke's got the eye on ya already, ya've to be some VIP or some shit!" The toothless man spit on the ground between your feet.

“Duke?” You asked confusedly.

“Tch, don’t fuck with me here, shut ya trap. Now, tell me. What’ve ya done? Be honest or I might’ve’ta polish your visage a lil’.” He viciously cackled in unison with his two lackeys who were cheering on him.

“I didn’t. Do. Anything.” You bit back through clenched teeth, putting a strong emphasis on each word. And before you were able to react, a stinging pain shot through your system as a fist connected with your face, sending your head flying back against the crate once again.

You immediately began to see stars and could feel your consciousness quickly fade away. The ringing in your ears and the accompanying dizziness from the impact was overbearing everything and all you could make out before you passed out was a flash of white light and pleas for mercy. Then everything faded to black.

The next thing you knew was waking up with a bandage around your head and an intense migraine. You felt like a horde of boars had trampled over you. The omnipresent pain got worse when you instinctively tried to sit up on the bed you found yourself on.

You hissed in pain and immediately felt a pair of big hands push you back into the fluffy bedding.

“Stay.”

You recognized this voice. You had heard it so often in the past couple of weeks that, despite your delirious state, you had no issue placing it.

“Wriothesley.” You uttered weakly with your eyes still closed.

“Yes, it’s me. I’m here.”

He took hold of your hand with a reassuring squeeze and the feeling of his warmth on your skin made you feel tingly all over and the all-present pain immediately felt like it was being alleviated ever so slightly. Out of all people you were glad it was him by your side.

“What? Where?” You rasped, attempting to slowly open your eyes.

“We’re in a separate room at the Fortress Infirmary. Someone roughed you up real good and you fell unconscious. I arrived just in time to prevent worse. You’ll probably have a nasty bruise on your face for a while and you’ve got quite the concussion as well as a cracked rib. But nothing some bed rest and a good cup of tea wouldn’t be able to fix, hm?” He tried to reassure, brushing a strand of hair out of your forehead.

"Your Grace, here is the medicine you asked for." A guard suddenly came rushing into the infirmary with a small satchel that he handed to Wriothesley before quickly leaving again after a courteous bow towards the man by your side.

You furrowed your brows in confusion at the display of submissiveness of the guard towards a fellow prisoner when you've been treated with nothing but disdain and… wait a minute.

Your Grace. The looks he got from the others during lunch and dinner time. The Duke. It's him?!

The memories suddenly came rushing back to you – how you had been slammed into the metal crates, how the toothless man had mentioned the Duke while threatening you and how his fist had then ultimately painfully kissed your face.

You didn't have all the puzzle pieces to connect everything into a clear image yet but it was enough to feel that there was an epiphany just mere millimeters out of your range.

You startled and sat up on the bed with wide-blown eyes once more as pain shot through you again from the abrupt movement. Pain so bad you thought you would have to throw up for a second.

"I-I… your Grace? The Duke? It's you! He meant you and– who? W-what?! I-I– he threatened me and I-I'm innocent. I don't belong here I–I'm innocent–" You incoherently stammered nonsense because your mouth couldn't match up with the speed at which your thoughts were racing.

Just who was he?

But before you got to properly ask that question a pair of soft lips gently connected with yours, rendering you speechless and cutting off the words that were spilling from your mouth relentlessly like water from a leaky faucet. He squeezed your hand a little tighter while the other gently found comfort on your cheek. Cradling it so carefully as if you're the finest piece of porcelain in the world and could break any minute.

The gentleness of his touch, the warmness of his lips, and the smell of Earl Grey on his breath made your body explode into a sea of fireworks. It wasn't until this moment that you realized you had developed feelings for Wriothesley that went beyond the casual acquaintance you met up with after work for food in the prison cafeteria. It was just that you had been too occupied and lost in your own thoughts about your predicament to realize it.

Your curiosity and cravings to see him more and more often weren’t just born from a place of loneliness. Your heart had craved for him all this time.

Your hands found comfort in his hair as you leaned into the kiss more, prying a low chuckle out of him and you felt him smirk against your lips.

"I know you are." He whispered against your lips when he separated from you again.

"What?" You asked in confusion, already forgetting what he was replying to.

"That you're innocent."

"N-no I don't mean just in this case… I didn't commit any crimes I was sent here despite being innocent I-"

You didn't even realize you had started crying until he gently wiped a tear from your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

"I know." He reiterated firmly.

You looked up in his face and his eyes were filled with nothing but sincerity. He must be the first person you ever encountered who didn't see the sentence of the Oratrice Mechanique d’Analyse Cardinale as infallible and unquestionable.

"How?" You quietly breathed out in disbelief.

"I knew it on the first day I saw you. My beliefs were just further confirmed when I talked to you for the first time. I've been working behind the scenes to get you out of here again ever since." He admitted, wiping another stray tear from your cheek.

That's why he was gone for days after your first meeting and suddenly arrived again behind you at the docks.

"You went above ground?" You rasped, making the question of who he actually is even bigger.

He nodded, taking your hands in his and placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

Is that why he also said you would find out who he is soon enough that one day? But you still didn't know… who actually is he?

"How are you allowed to go out? Who are you?"

"You still didn't figure it out?" He smirked. "I'm Wriothesley. Warden of the Fortress of Meropide."

And at that moment everything fell like scales from your eyes.

His attire, the looks of other prisoners, the abundance of tickets to spend, randomly disappearing for days, the Duke… the Cryo Vision dangling from his shoulder despite not being allowed to carry any in here.

He was the one who saved you earlier.

He must've noticed your glance because he squeezed your hands a little tighter and reassured you: "They won't ever bother you again. I took care of it."

You didn't dare ask what he meant by that and simply nodded in acceptance.

"I can also tell you that things are going well. I pulled some strings and you might be out of here by the end of the week again with no criminal record to your name."

But what if you actually didn't want to leave anymore? At least not without him.

"Will I be able to see you again?"

A question that spilled out of your mouth before you could properly think about it. But the deafening silence that followed told you everything you needed to know. He rarely left the underground and was occupied down here most of the time so the possibility of you and him seeing each other again was low.

"Certainly." He replied after a while avoiding looking into your eyes.

A white lie. He wanted you to return to your old life again, out of the confines of this prison you had unjustifiably been thrown in. He didn't want to keep you here only for the selfish desires of his heart that he had unplannedly given to you along the way. Maybe he would find a way to be with you once you returned, maybe he didn't – But that didn't mean he couldn't indulge in what you had for the remaining time you were here with him.

And that's when he pulled you closer once more, one hand resting on your waist, gently massaging your skin through the fabric of your shirt while reuniting your lips as if it was the last thing he would ever get to taste.

And maybe, if it was what it took to see him again, you wouldn't mind actually committing a crime.

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

#genshin impact #astronetwrk #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x y/n #genshin fluff #genshin wriothesley #genshin x y/n #genshin impact fanfic #genshin drabbles #genshin scenarios #genshin brainrot #genshin headcanons #🍁 dust writes #🍁彡 gi

4K notes · View notes

yawnzzznnn · 7 days

Note

Hi! Could you write something with Big Ocean? I'd love to see some fluff like confessing or spending time with crush. And you seem to be only one who write for them. 🥺

Thank you~

♡Confessions w/Big Ocean♡

♡Special Thanks Too: anon, Big O!cean

♡Note: Thank you for requesting, i hope to see you on my page again, i really enjoy writing for them.

♡Taglist: no one yet but if you wanna be added let me know

♡CW: confessions : nervousness : kissing :

05/5/24

ᯓ★Hyunjin

He'd invite you out to coffee (or anything else if you don't like coffee) throughout the entire hang out, he'd slowly scoot closer and closer to you. He tried not to make it obvious but it was extremely obvious, once everything was said and done he'd take you home. Making sure you got in safe he wouldn't leave till you texted him you were in you're room safe and sound. On the drive home he thought about confessing he didn't wanna do it in person too afraid of rejection, once he got inside he quickly messaged you "Hey! I hope you had a lot of fun today, um actually there's a reason I asked you to hang out so suddenly." "I like really like you" then he went offline and didn't respond or come back online till you responded after he was finished getting for the night.

ᯓ★Chanyeon

Chanyeon had this entire thing planned for it, he got the other two to help him. Set everything up having access to you're house (because he spent the night before) roses(or any other flower if you're allergic) all over you're house, food cooked and ready, cooled off to perfect temperature when you arrived, youre favorites laying on the done up wjite cloth of the table, throughout the entire prep he was extremely nervous his face that usually holds a smile gone, replaced with an annoyed lip curl and nervously eating the skin off his lips. When you texted him you were on you're way home, he quickly kicked his members out, standing nervously at the front door ready to take you're jacket and purse off for you, once he sees the door open he stands up straighter. Greeting you with a huge smile, he helped you take you're stuff off, hand on you're lower back as he guides you to the dining room, watching you're reaction nervously. His nervousness faded when he seen how happy you got from everything, telling him how you've never had someone do this for you before. While you ate he broke the question to you, making you choke he quickly got up to help you, after making sure you were ok. He'd ask you again.

ᯓ★Jiseok

He was so upfront with it, he had nothing to be afraid of. He knew you were understandable enough to stay friends with him if you didn't feel the same way but if you did that would be amazing, so while he was over at you're house playing games like usual. When his character suddenly stopped moving a few seconds later you felt soft but slightly chapped lips land on you're cheek, a gentle kiss before he pulled back and continued playing as if nothing happened, only turning when you stopped moving he turned back to you and just blurted out "I like you" his face didn't hold much emotion but his leg was bouncing up and down as he waited for you're response.

#x reader #anons ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ #answersᝰ.ᐟ #big ocean #big ocean x reader #big ocean imagines #big ocean scenarios #big ocean reactions #big ocean one shots #big ocean head cannons #jiseok one shots #jiseok x reader #jiseok imagines #hyunjin one shots #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin imagines #chanyeon imagines #chanyeon x reader #chanyeon one shots

19 notes · View notes

honnelander · 8 months

Text

tart

HERE WE GO EVERYONE. the long awaited jealous!Sanji fic!! AKA a prequel to the main go fish! storyline!! this fic takes place before the main events in go fish! but after they met at the Baratie. and don't worry, part 3 for the main series will be on the way. enjoy!! request: i was wondering if you’d consider making a lil imagine/blurb about sanji being jealous of someone flirting with the reader? like imagine zoro and the reader just talking and then zoro suddenly leans closer and whispers to her “it seems we’ve got an audience” or smth like that

WARNINGS: none

word count: 3.7k

pairing: jealous opla!sanji x fem!reader

summary: Sanji watches Zoro and reader talk and gets jealous. Nami tries to calm him down but fails.

go fish! series: part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 masterlist

taglist: @mischiefmanaged71 @smolracoon25 @smol-book-nerd @shuujin @amanda08319 @nimtano @your-platonic-gay-lover @lovelymrvl @whiskeypowder @jovialcat123 @nimtano @xtigerlily @shadowwolf1864 @quixscentsposts @guidingstarsstuff @ateliefloresdaprimavera

“Reading that garbage again?” a voice called out.

At hearing the question, you glanced up from your well-worn copy of Pride and Prejudice, your favorite book, only to see a calm Zoro casually stroll over to you with a hint of amusement on his face.

You playfully rolled your eyes. “Don’t knock it till you try it, oh great sword master,” you playfully jabbed as you shook out the book to him as he leaned his back against the ship’s front railing, resting his elbows on top of it. “The almighty Zoro isn’t allergic to reading, is he?”

Zoro snorted, glancing down at your cross-legged position on top of a crate before returning his sights to the Going Merry’s deck and the open ocean. “Yeah, I am allergic,” he agreed. “Allergic to reading that monstrosity you call a book.”

“Ooo, ‘monstrosity’. That’s a mighty big word for a non-reader like yourself, Zoro. Good job,” you teased as you marked your page before closing the book and joining your friend in looking across the deck and out towards the ocean.

The green-haired swordsman crossed his arms. “I read.”

“Mmhm,” you hummed, not convinced. “Sure you do.”

“I do,” he defended in a gruff voice.

“Oh yeah? Here, I’ll make it easy for you: tell me about one book you’ve read.”

Zoro scoffed. “I can tell you about way more than one.”

You couldn’t help the surprised noise that came out of you. “Oh, yeah? ’More than one’?” you asked with a raised brow and glanced up at your fellow straw hat, trying to wipe off the grin on your face.

You were certainly surprised that Zoro has read more than one book in his lifetime, but you weren’t surprised that he took your earlier question as a challenge. Classic Zoro, you thought in amusement. The guy could never pass up a challenge, no matter what it was about.

So, you repositioned yourself on your crate, making yourself comfortable for the discussion ahead. “Alright, come on,” you said and sat up straighter, urging Zoro on, “let’s hear it. Tell me all about them.”

From the back of the ship, on the upper deck above the kitchen, a certain chef took a long drag on his cigarette as he watched you and his least favorite swordsman be engrossed in conversation. Sanji removed the butt of his cigarette from his mouth with his thumb and index finger, keeping the smoke in his lungs for as long as he could, before slowly exhaling the smoke from his nostrils, his eyes never leaving the two of you.

“Daaamn, Sanji,” Usopp drawled as he messed with the sails on the ship’s mast nearby, glancing at the chef for a second before returning to his knots. “You look like a smoking dragon. All ferocious and mean. And....extra smokey.”

Sanji’s gaze didn’t budge, Usopp’s words not fazing the cook in the slightest. “Oh yeah? And what of it knot-boy?” he asked with a slight edge to his words, taking another drag on his cigarette and exhaling through his lips.

At Sanji’s snarky question, Usopp recoiled and looked back at Sanji more closely with a confused expression. It was rare for Sanji to lose his cool or be in a bad mood for no reason, unless he was going back and forth in an argument with Zoro but even then, the blonde chef usually took those in stride with a smile, much to Zoro’s annoyance, so this was new.

“Aren’t those things supossed to calm you down?” Usopp asked as he nodded to the cigarette in the cook’s hand.

“I am calm,” Sanji rebuked a little too quickly to be true.

Usopp then noticed how intent Sanji’s stare was towards something at the front of the ship and raised an eyebrow. Whatever he was staring at must be pissing him off because the chef’s gaze looked absolutely lethal. What the hell could be making him so mad? Usopp followed Sanji’s gaze, looked towards the front of the ship, and saw....y/n and Zoro talking?

To Usopp, it looked like they were just having a normal conversation, but when he saw y/n laugh at something Zoro said, hitting his arm with a grin and Zoro having a slight smile, he heard Sanji scoff loudly in disgust and mutter something under his breath.

And in that moment, it dawned on Usopp what was up, and it was hard for him to contain his shit eating grin: Sanji was jealous. Sanji was jealous of y/n and Zoro. To Usopp, it looked like a completely normal conversation between friends since he knew of y/n’s affections for the blonde cook. But to Sanji? It probably seemed like a complete flirt fest, and he was jealous.

Up until this point Usopp had thought y/n’s crush was only one sided. Sure, he’s had his suspicions ever since Sanji seemed to stare at y/n more often than not, but Usopp was still just a guy at the end of the day, so he never considered if Sanji might actually have feelings for y/n too.

But now? Oh boy- Usopp was all caught up to speed and he couldn’t wait to meddle in their budding relationship and tease the heck out of them both for it (when the time was right, of course).

Usopp looked back over at Sanji and wiped off his grin as best he could. “You say somethin’ Sanji?” he asked innocently, knowing damn well the chef said absolutely nothing. “I thought I heard you mutter something.”

Sanji flicked the ashes off his cigarette. “No.”

“Oh. Must just be the wind then...”

Suddenly, y/n’s laughter could be heard from the ship’s front and Sanji nearly snarled in disgust and shook his head. “What the-” Sanji started but let out an exasperated sigh. “He’s not even funny,” Sanji complained before taking another hit on his cigarette.

Usopp couldn’t help himself, he had to poke the bear. “Who, Zoro? I think he’s funny.”

The blonde chef let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, funny looking.”

He also had to twist the knife. “Well, y/n seems to think he’s funny.”

Sanji chuckled to himself and stayed quiet for a moment, contemplating Usopp’s words. “You know what? It doesn’t matter,” he muttered and took one last drag of his cigarette before putting it out and immediately lighting up a fresh one.

Unbeknown to the cook and slingshot fighter, standing underneath them and near the tangerine trees was the Going Merry’s orange-haired navigator, who had heard their whole conversation.

------------- -----

“Zoro!” You laughed loudly and hit your crewmate on his bicep. “Reading books on how to dismember your opponents doesn’t count as real reading!”

A ghost of a smile appeared on Zoro’s face as he raised an eyebrow at you. “Says you. Can you tell me fifty different ways on how to cut up a body? No? I didn’t think so.”

“Fair enough,” you relented good naturedly with a small laugh as you shook your head. “Remind me to never get on your bad side.”

A comfortable silence fell over you both as you let out a small sigh, watching the waves crash.

After a few quiet beats, however, you felt Zoro lean into your personal space as he lowly murmured, “Don’t look now, but it seems like we have an audience.”

You blinked in confusion as your eyebrows pulled together. “What? An audience? Where?” Completely disregarding Zoro’s instructions, you immediately started looking around the ship. “Watching what?”

“Us,” Zoro said simply and returned to his full height.

You shook your head in disbelief. “What? Us? Now who would be watching-” you started to say but the rest of your sentence died in your throat when you saw piercing blue eyes staring right you both. “...us?” you finished slowly.

Sanji? Sanji was your audience? But- why? What? You were so confused. Even from this far away, you could tell something was off with him. His posture was stiff and the usual smile that adorned his features whenever he saw you was nowhere to be seen.

“When did he get here? I didn’t know he was on deck...” you trailed off, about to move to hop off the crate and make your way over to Sanji to see what the matter with him was when something stopped you.

Before you could hop off the crate, you saw Sanji put out his cigarette and make his way off the deck and head down into the kitchen, not sparing you another glance. As you made your way across the deck, about to follow him into the kitchen, Usopp quickly called out to you from up on the ship’s mast, asking for your help with knot tying since ‘yours were so much better than his’. You agreed with a small sigh, not wanting Usopp to struggle by himself, so you made your way to the mast and started climbing, but not before sparing the entryway to the kitchen one last glance.

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Sanji flittered around, grabbing random ingredients he saw at first glance. Mushrooms? Grabbed. A block of cheese? Sure. Corn? Ok. Tomatoes? Sure, whatever.

As he looked down at the growing pile of ingredients on the counter, he stopped for a second to examine the pile, putting his hands in his pockets. What the hell was he supposed to make out of this? He didn’t know. He couldn’t think straight, and it was bothering the absolute hell out of him. The kitchen had always been his sanctuary, a place where he could always rely on to decompress and escape from his thoughts as he got swept away in the act of cooking that came so naturally to him. Usually.

But today? His natural instincts weren’t there. He felt his chef’s mind drawing up a blank on how to mix all of these items together and the longer he stood there, the more ticked off he became. On a normal day, he’d have thought up of 15 different dishes he could make and already have been busy at work making one of those ideas come to life. But now? There was nothing. No ideas swirling around in his head, nothing.

He could feel his face twist up in irritation the longer he was standing there until finally, he let out a short, brusque sigh, muttering, “Now what the fuck am I supposed to do with all this?”

“You’re the chef, aren’t you supposed to figure that out or something?”

The blonde chef glanced up from the pile and saw Nami casually strolling in from the deck and up to the counter opposite of him, hands clasped behind her back, with a curious eyebrow raised.

Instantly, to cover up his sour mood, the cook plastered on a fake smile. “Well, it seems my mind is a little blank at the moment, Darling. Why don’t you come over here and help me come up with an idea or two?” he offered with a wink, taking his hands out to lean against the counter.

But Nami saw right through him. “I’m good, thanks,” she declined bluntly. Nami wasn’t sure when she had become the Going Merry’s pseudo-therapist, especially since this crew hadn't been together for more than 3 months at this point, but someone had to be, and she figured the only way to get Sanji to talk right now would be if he was doing something he loved: cooking. “Actually,” she started offhandedly, “I have a request for you.”

Now that immediately got the cook’s attention. “Oh?” he asked with a raised brow, straightening up as he dropped the fake flirty persona.

“Yeah,” she said aloud, sounding more like she was trying to convince herself that she actually had a request for the cook. From behind her back, she pulled out a couple of tangerines. With a slight smile and raised brow, she said matter-of-factly, “If I remember correctly, I believe I was told I could ask for a tangerine tart anytime I’d like?”

A genuine smile came across Sanji’s face at that, his eyes crinkling at the corners, as he laughed with a nod. “The Madam is correct.” He took the fruits from Nami’s hands and placed them on the counter, pushing away his bizarre pile of ingredients to make room. “One tangerine tart coming right up,” he said and started bustling around the kitchen with purpose this time, pulling out the necessary ingredients, a far cry from his movements a couple of minutes ago.

Seeing Sanji occupied, Nami took a seat at the table, sitting where she had left her charting journal and reading glasses from breakfast that morning. She opened her journal back up and put her glasses on, flipping through the pages and resuming her sketch of her latest map.

Both of them worked in silence for a few minutes, both engrossed in their respective activities until Nami broke it. Before speaking, she snuck a glance at the chef, making sure he was preoccupied before she started prodding and sure enough, he was. Perfect.

“You know, I never told anyone this before,” Nami started, laying the groundwork for Sanji to open up, creating a tit for tat sort of thing, “but I actually love tangerine tarts.”

Sanji huffed slightly with a slight smile, not looking up from his work. “Oh yeah? Well, be prepared to fall in love with them all over again.” He started pouring heavy cream into a separate bowl, adding sugar before whisking it all together. “Even Zeff used to say I made a mean tangerine tart.”

Nami hummed. “Maybe you can make Zoro fall in love with them too,” she said casually, sneaking a quick look at Sanji, only to see him press his lips together in a firm line and start to whisk the cream harder at the mention of the swordsman. “Or y/n,” she added quickly. “I don’t think she’s ever had one either.”

At the mention of you, Sanji’s face and motions relaxed slightly. “Yeah,” he agreed. “I...think you’re right about that.”

The orange-haired girl rotated her journal ninety degrees. She decided to prod a little harder. “I think I saw them talking earlier.”

Sanji simply hummed in agreement, cracking eggs into a bowl, staying silent. With the third egg, however, he cracked it a little too hard on the counter, causing the raw egg contents to splatter everywhere and onto his black blazer.

“Ah- fucking hell,” he muttered in disgust, throwing the broken eggshell into the trash before cleaning his hands off in the sink.

Nami looked up from her work and quirked an eyebrow at her crewmate. “You good?”

The blonde cook shook his head once with a sardonic smile. “Never better,” he quipped.

Ok, she couldn’t do this dance anymore. Nami closed her journal and took off her glasses, looking straight at him. “Alright, you want to tell me what the hell is going on? You’re acting weird, even for you.” Sanji opened his mouth to protest but Nami spoke before he could. “And don’t lie to me.”

Mouth still open, Sanji exhaled slowly and deflated. “I- I’m fine.”

She rolled her eyes. “Sanji-”

Upon hearing his name, Sanji blinked and raised his eyebrows in surprise. Nami rarely called him by his name.

“Cut the bullshit,” she continued. “I heard your conversation with Usopp and you certainly didn’t sound ‘fine’.”

Sanji was caught red-handed. With what exactly? He didn’t really know but he did know he was caught in a lie because he definitely did not feel fine. He shrugged his shoulders, at a loss for words. “I...” he sighed and took off his ruined blazer, draping it over the back of an empty chair, rolling up his sleeves as he avoided Nami’s expectant stare. He grabbed a dirty rag and started cleaning the egg off the counter. “I don’t know...”

“Sanji, you can barely crack an egg.”

That brought out a short bark of laughter from the chef. “Yeah,” he relented. “Obviously.”

“Is this because of your jealously over y/n and Zoro?”

“My- my what? My jealously?” he sputtered and scoffed, still not looking Nami in the eye. “I, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why on earth would I be jealous over that stick in the mud?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Nami played along, tapping her temple, pretending she was deep in thought. “Maybe because you saw and heard them laughing from all the way across the ship?” she pointed out. When Sanji tried to wave off her accusations with an unconvincing smile, Nami decided to just go in for the kill. If Sanji wasn’t going to admit his obvious liking towards her female crewmate and friend himself, then she’d have to do it for him. “Maybe....maybe because you might have a little crush on y/n?” she offered with a raised brow, staring right at him.

“Wh-what?? A crush?” Sanji quickly rebuked, jerking his head back. “What are we? Little kids?”

From her spot at the table, Nami could swear she saw a faint dusting of pink appear on his cheeks. She smirked to herself. She got him. “Well,” she shrugged, “it doesn’t matter how old we get, we all get crushes from time to time.”

You? A crush? Sanji shook his head as he resumed making the tangerine tart. Labeling whatever feelings he had for you as simply a ‘juvenile crush’ didn’t feel right to him. You were more than that, and you didn’t deserve to be labeled as such. “No, she’s not a crush.”

“Oh, so you like-like her?” Nami said like it was obvious. “You like her as more than just a friend.”

“I-” Sanji started but stopped himself and sighed, feeling his irritation grow the longer this conversation went on. Now even the kitchen wasn’t bringing him peace? First, smoking and now this? What was next? “Why does it matter? All of a sudden, my love life is interesting to you and up for debate? I don’t remember asking for your opinion.”

Nami watched his jaw tense and his body become stiff as he started zesting the tangerines. Clearly whatever feelings Sanji was dealing with, he wasn’t ready to openly talk about them, so she decided to back off.

She put her hands up in surrender, slumping back in her chair as she said, “Hey, I’m...I’m sorry. You’re right.” Deciding to give the chef his space, she gathered her belongings and stood up, making her way to the counter. “If you ever need to...talk or anything, I’m here,” she offered quietly. In a normal tone, she added, “Let me know when the tarts are ready. I really do want y/n and Zoro to try one.”

Speaking of the devil, you came into the kitchen from the deck, eyes lighting up at the sight of Sanji cooking. Seeing Sanji cook was one of your favorite things and you always loved to guess what he was making. “Sanji! Ooo, what are you making?”

Nami watched as Sanji’s whole demeanor change at the sight of you, like a switch being flipped on. She couldn’t help but smile knowingly between you both. “I’ll be in my room,” she announced before making her way out of the kitchen, leaving you both alone.

Sanji had a wide smile, shoulders relaxing as his eyes lit up. “Why don’t you guess? Give it your best shot.”

“Oh! I love this game. Ok, let’s see,” you said as you surveyed the ingredients laid out before you. “I see flour, sugar, butter and tangerines...are you making a tangerine cake or something?”

Whatever jealousy or anger he had been feeling all day just instantly disappeared once he was with you. He felt like himself again, all carefree and lighthearted as he chuckled at your guess. “Not quite, Missus. But nice try,” he said as he looked into your eyes with a crooked smile.

Missus. You felt your heart skip a beat at the nickname and you felt your insides became all warm. You hoped your face didn’t give away your swooning. He's never called you that before and you hoped to God that he would never stop.

“Ah, my bad,” you laughed embarrassedly. “What are you making then?”

“I, am making a tangerine tart,” he proudly stated as he grabbed another egg, perfectly cracking it this time. “At the request of the ship’s navigator.”

A wide grin broke out across your face. “No way!!” you squealed eagerly, causing Sanji to laugh. “I’ve always wanted to try one!”

The blonde chef nodded. “Yes, she did mention that actually.” After a beat, he added, “I hope you like it.”

“Of course I will,” you said without hesitation. “I know I haven’t known you for that long, but it seems like everything you make is phenomenal. You’re the best cook I know.”

Normally, nearly everyone compliments his cooking (except for Zoro) and he never really thought anything of it. He knew was the best cook in the East Blue and someday, the whole world when he found the All Blue. But hearing that compliment from you? How you said it so easily and with such certainty? He felt a funny, warm feeling deep within his chest and when he looked at you, just like how you knew for certain that he was the best chef around, he knew right then that you really were the most beautiful woman he’s ever known.

So, yeah. Nami was right. He guessed he did have a little crush on you, or ‘like-liked’ you- whatever she was saying.

“Do you mind if I watch?”

Your question broke the little staring trance he was in, blinking and tearing his gaze away from you as he tried to refocus on the task before him. He truly had to make sure this was the best tart he’s ever made.

He nodded, perhaps a little too eagerly. God, he was probably acting like an excited puppy, but he couldn’t help himself. “Of course you can,” he agreed with a small smile.

As you pulled up a stool to sit on the opposite side of the counter, Sanji realized something: him cooking in the kitchen with you sitting nearby? That’s something he could get used to and get used to very quickly.

#sanji x reader #sanji vinsmoke x reader #sanji x y/n #opla!sanji x reader #sanji #sanji fanfiction #sanji vinsmoke #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece fanfiction #one piece live action #opla!sanji #opla fanfiction #fluff #jealously #mutual pining #idiots in love #go fish! au #friends to lovers

6K notes · View notes

halfvalid · 8 months

Text

nobody but you

ABOUT

alternate title: the jealous character trope is actually kinda fun to write

rating: teen+

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!vinsmoke sanji | live action!straw hats ensemble

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 3.5k

description: sanji flirts endlessly with you while dining at the baratie. zoro is displeased.

tags: strawhat!reader, female reader, fluff, kissing, no use of 'y/n', establishment of relationship, flirting, alcohol consumption, pda

author’s note: i got like ~5 requests to write this so here you guys go! this was a popular one lmao. the story is a vague spinoff to my other fic pretty in that, but it doesn't have to be read to understand this one.

You’d volunteered to deal with the docking fees for the Going Merry, locking up the pirate ship as the rest of the crew entered Baratie. You were just five or so minutes late entering after the restaurant the rest of the Straw Hats had gone into. You’d never seen anything like it before—an eatery right in the middle of the ocean, in the shape of a giant fish.

You stepped into the building cautiously, glancing around the wide expanse of the main room to try and catch a glimpse of your friends. The restaurant was big, with a mezzanine that you’d entered in and stairs leading down to the first floor. The host, a fishman who was standing at the reservation desk, glanced up to take a look at you.

“Ah, you must be with the pirates,” he said pleasantly. “Right this way, miss.”

You nodded, wondering how Luffy was intending on paying for the bill of such a place as you scoped out the area. It was far nicer than anything you would’ve expected—but then again, he’d somehow managed to score the Going Merry from Kaya back in Syrup Village, so you figured he’d work something out.

Finally, you caught a glimpse of the rest of your crew, tucked away in a circular side booth that the fishman led you to. Luffy brightened upon seeing you, waving you over with a hand so excitedly you feared it was about to flop around like rubber. Considering his powers, that was a more than likely situation, actually.

“Thank you,” you told the host, then turned towards your friends. “No food yet?”

“You didn’t miss much,” Usopp said, a little snicker in his voice. “Just the waiter getting our drink orders. He was flirting the heck outta Nami.”

“Oh?” you asked, a smile flickering up your lips. The only open space in the table was between Zoro and Nami—you gave Zoro a confused look, and he gestured down to his swords, which were caught in the ledge between the chair and the wall. You snickered. “Ro. You’re such a loser.”

“Shut up,” Zoro muttered, hand on your waist as you climbed over him to get to the empty seat. It stayed there for a moment longer, even after you’d arranged yourself in the seat, before he finally dropped his hand. Usopp made a face that you pointedly ignored.

“What’d you guys order?” you asked instead. If there’d been a menu available, the waiter had probably taken it away; still, there wasn’t much variety in the East Blue, so you could expect there’d be a lot of seafood and not much else.

“One of everything,” Luffy responded brightly. “So we’ll be able to try the whole menu!”

“You sure that’s a good idea, Cap?” you asked, brows raised. Luffy shrugged.

“I don’t see why not.”

“Quit it with the nickname,” Zoro muttered. Neither him or Nami had gotten any more receptive to it since you’d first started calling Luffy it. Usopp didn’t seem so keen on it either—if only because he fancied himself Captain Usopp. Luffy liked it, though, and that pleased you enough to keep using it.

“I’ll get you to start saying it eventually,” you teased, nudging Zoro in the arm. He shook his head, but there was a suggestion of a smile on his lips as he glanced away. “Just you wait.” You turned to Nami, eyes sparkling. “What about the waiter, though? Was he cute?”

Usopp laughed at that, and Nami gave you a disparaging look. “Come on,” she started. “Not you too. Zoro was all—”

The sound of footsteps cut off her speech, and you glanced up to find a lean, blond man pausing by the lip of your table. He held a silver plate, upon which perched a variety of different drinks—beers, milk, water. “Here are your drinks,” he said, voice lifting with an accent you couldn’t quite place. “And appetizers.”

He had just finished placing the last of the drinks balancing on his forearm on the table when the waiter glanced up and registered you sitting there. His expression instantly changed, the crease of his mouth softening into a pleasant smile, his previously-dull blue eyes bright and sparkling. “Well, hello there. An addition?”

“Yeah, sorry I’m late,” you said. The waiter flashed a grin, white ivories shining under the fluorescents.

“Oh, absolutely no problem. They say those who are late are fashionable, and you, madam, certainly fit the bill,” the waiter said. Your eyes widened, glancing over to Nami to find her shaking her head, but the waiter didn’t stop there. “I’m Sanji. What can I get for you to drink? We’ve got a wide selection of fine wines that might suit your taste.”

“Oh, um—” you started, glancing at the rest of your crew again. Usopp was hiding his snicker, and Nami was giving you a tired look. Assumedly this had been the man who’d tried it on her, too—to unfortunate ends, probably, considering how Nami was. Not that this would be any more effective on you. Your eye was already captured by a particular green-haired swordsman, after all. “I don’t really have anything in mind.”

Sanji looked pleased about that, clasping his hands together around his platter. “Ah, let me guess, then. A bayberry or red currant wine, perhaps? Fruity, tart, full of flavor.” he winked. “A feisty drink for a feisty girl.”

“Can’t say I’ve tried it, but sure,” you said, the faintest smile on your lips. “I’ll let you know how I like it.”

Sanji grinned, looking rather satisfied with that, a delighted little smile on his lips. “One red currant wine, then. I’ll have it right out. And would you also like to order a meal, or…” He glanced over at Luffy, presumably referencing your captain’s more-than-outrageous order. “Are you all set?”

“I think we’re set, thanks,” you assured, and Sanji nodded. He flashed you another bright smile before turning on his heel back off to the kitchen.

Usopp finally let out the laughter he’d been keeping in, choked sounds emitting from his throat as he thudded his chest with a fist. You rolled your eyes, but it was good-natured, letting Usopp laugh.

“Well, at least I’m not being singled out,” Nami said with a sigh, and you exchanged a sympathetic glance with her. She patted your hand comfortingly, then scrutinized the water Sanji had gotten her. “At least he didn’t put it in a flute.”

“Zoro, you’ve got competition!” Usopp called, still laughing from the entire ordeal. You glanced to your side, to where the swordsman sat. Zoro had stiffened sometime during the conversation, jaw clenched and arms wound tightly across his chest. He hadn’t even touched the beer that Sanji had set in front of him, eyes fixed carefully to a spot beside Luffy’s head and refusing to look over at you.

“He’s a waiter,” Zoro said crisply. “He buses tables for a living.” With that, he grabbed his bottle, popping the tab and taking a swig.

“I don’t know, man, did you see the way he took down those pirates?” Usopp turned to you, all excited again. “Oh, you missed this whole thing! Two pirates were fighting over a seat or something, and Sanji just demolished both of them! You would’ve loved it.”

“He is a really good fighter,” Luffy agreed. Their words did nothing but seem to annoy Zoro further.

“Can we not talk about the restaurant personnel? Surely you can think of more interesting topics of conversation.” His tone was sharp, and all icy, and you inched your hand closer to his leg to tap his thigh in question. He glanced down at your touch, but didn’t deign to say anything else. He just picked up his beer again, nursing it while the rest of the crew continued on with their conversation.

Despite Luffy changing the subject, Zoro didn’t speak, and you kept peeking glances over at him in concern. Your feelings for him had just continued developing ever since Syrup Village, although neither of you had reasonably talked about the closet incident since it’d happened. What with the reveal of Kuro and the escape from the marines and all, there hadn’t exactly been time to. But you’d been on good terms, and the actions he made around you—pressing a hand to your waist as you moved past him, turning towards you first mid-conversation, shoving you down when the marines had fired their first cannon at the Going Merry.

Before you could whisper to him and question what his silence was about, though, Sanji reappeared, carrying two platters filled to the brim with plates. They were laden with different types of meat and vegetables, sauces glinting under the light and hot steam still billowing.

He set the dishes on the table, somehow managing to arrange them so they all fit on the countertop. Sanji set down the last plate then turned to you, placing a glass and a bottle of dark crimson wine on the table in front of you. He had to lean over Zoro to reach, and Zoro flinched, but still didn’t say anything as Sanji uncorked the bottle and poured you a glass.

“Tell me what you think,” he said, all smiles again. “I’ll be embarrassed if it isn’t to your liking.”

You picked the glass up, swirling it carefully inside the glass before leaning down into the cup to take in a full sniff. You tilted your head back to take a small sip, moving the liquid around your mouth to fully savor the flavor before finally swallowing. The wine was sweet, light rather than rich with a delicate tartness that burst on your tongue. You glanced up just to see a giant grin had stretched up Sanji’s mouth, brightening his face up considerably.

“What?” you asked.

“Not often do I see a patron who knows how to taste wine properly,” Sanji answered with a little duck of his head. “A lady of class, I see. How do you like it?”

“Not too strong. I like the tartness,” you answered. “A good recommendation. Thank you.”

Sanji gave you a little bow, hand flourishing to the side as he dipped his head. “I live to serve.”

“Yeah, well, why don’t you serve me another beer?” Zoro said abruptly. Usopp coughed, and you could see Nami elbow him out of your peripheral vision. Luffy just looked confused.

Sanji’s face fell almost immediately after Zoro had spoken, his eyes flickering away from yours. “Of course. I’ll be right back,” he said, a tight smile at his lips. He ducked out of the booth, and Zoro let out an irritated noise, tongue flicking against from the roof of his mouth.

Usopp snorted, fully this time, and you turned to glance over at him—he and Nami were both hiding their gazes, though you could see smiles cracked along their lips.

Zoro glared at them. “Shut it.”

“Not saying anything!” Usopp said, though he half-hid behind Luffy like Zoro was going to lunge over the table to get to him. That didn’t seem… entirely unlikely, actually; Zoro’s right hand rested firmly on the handle of one of his swords, fingers ready to pull the blade at any second. You watched him out of the corner of your eye, wanting to say something. But not in front of everyone else. It wouldn’t be appropriate, you decided.

Eventually your meal wound down to an end. Zoro got less and less tense throughout it, though you were fairly certain that was due to the drinks he was having rather than any actual reassurance. Sanji, thankfully, came back with the bill in the middle of a conversation you really didn’t want to think about—Luffy and his marine grandfather was not something your mind wanted to dwell on—only for him to disappear again.

Just moments later, a man with a braided mustache came storming out of the kitchen. Luffy did some more of his Luffy nonsense, and, honestly—you were getting too tired about all of this to pay any close attention. You spared a glance over at Zoro again. His face was as blank as ever.

“Okay,” Usopp said slowly, a few delayed seconds after who’d undoubtedly been the head chef yanked Luffy out of his seat. “I’m ready to check out whatever’s outside. Let’s go.”

“What about Luffy?” you asked, perplexed.

“He’ll find his way out of that,” Nami said with a sigh. She stood up, knocking back the rest of her drink. Since she wasn’t exactly wrong, you got up, glancing over your shoulder at the last of the group that remained seated. “Zoro?”

Zoro was staring into his now-empty bottle of beer. He still seemed off, the line of his mouth creased downwards, jaw set tight. “Yeah,” he said finally, standing to his full height and slipping out of the booth. He offered you a hand, helping you down from your seat, but said nothing more.

The four of you headed out to the mouth of the Baratie fish, which boasted a bar decorated with neon lights. You found a place to sit by the fish’s bottom lip, and you turned in your seat, staring out at the sea. The water was dark with the night, peaceful ripples moving across the water that sent shimmering waves across the blue.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” Usopp said. “Come, Nami?”

“Huh?” Nami glanced up, and you turned to watch the exchange. “Oh, I’m okay, Usopp. Thanks, though.”

“No,” Usopp insisted, a smile still pasted on his face as he jerked his head, not very discreetly, in your and Zoro’s direction. Nami seemed to realize, then, eyes going wide before she got up from her seat.

“Actually, on second thought, I’ll join you,” she said, far smoother than Usopp had been. “God knows you don’t have any money to pay for a drink.”

She breezed past him, ignoring the offended gape Usopp left in her wake before he was scrambling to follow her. You turned your attention towards Zoro—he was lounging in the seat across from you, one hand on his swords with his legs crossed. “Hi,” you said carefully.

He stiffened. “Hey.”

You pursed your lips, mulling over the ways to go about the conversation before ultimately deciding to spit it out. “What’s wrong?” At his raised brow, you were prompted to continue— “During dinner. You were acting weird.”

Zoro shook his head, dropping his gaze from yours. You could see the faintest trace of freckles spattered along his cheeks, the yellow glow from the lanterns reflecting off his skin. “Nothing’s wrong. Just… the waiter.”

“The waiter,” you repeated. Zoro shifted, legs uncrossing and hand tightening around his swords again. His voice was low the next time he spoke, and you could barely hear him, having to lean forward to catch all of his words.

“He was flirting with you.”

Your breath hitched, but you tried to keep your tone casual. “He was flirting with Nami too,” you said, glancing up to meet his eyes. Zoro still wouldn’t meet your gaze, staring out into the East Blue behind you.

“That’s different.” Zoro’s eyes finally lifted, long eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks as you met eyes. You shivered, gooseflesh suddenly prickling up everywhere on your skin—the back of your neck, up your spine, down your arms and legs. “I don’t like Nami.”

You tilted your head to the side, meeting his gaze. The words sent a little rush through you; a rush you got practically every time Zoro looked in your direction, actually, which was only a little bit annoying. The amount of influence a man you’d known for, comparatively, not that long had over you had you rolling your eyes all the time, but… you trusted Zoro at this point, as uncooperative as he and Nami had been throughout your entire journey.

“You’re jealous of a waiter.”

“Don’t—” Zoro sighed. “Don’t put it like that.”

“But it’s true. You’re jealous of a waiter,” you said, unblinking. Zoro rolled his eyes, teeth resting along his lower lip in an almost-bite. You snickered, tone sloping upwards to become more teasing, almost sarcastic. “How the mighty have fallen. From me practically begging you to say I looked nice in a dress to this.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Zoro said, uncrossing his legs to lean over and press his hand over your mouth. You laughed, surprised, as he leaned over you, eyes sparkling at the reaction. “Not another word.”

He removed his hand, giving you a look. You betrayed his trust almost immediately. “Of a waiter.”

“Do you want me to put the hand back?” Zoro threatened, but you were full-on laughing by now, and he couldn’t do anything but watch. The sounds escaped from your mouth, ringing out in soft, lively hiccups. He shook his head, hand falling to his side as he watched you, a ghost of a smile tugging up the side of his mouth.

“Sorry, Ro,” you said, unable to suppress your grin even as your laughter died off. “It’s a little funny, you have to admit.”

“I’d like to hear you talk if someone was flirting with me,” Zoro muttered, so quiet you could barely hear. You had to stifle another laugh.

“Okay, well, unlike you, I don’t get territorial over people I haven’t even talked about my relationship with, but I appreciate it.” You nudged him. “It’s kinda cute.”

Zoro seemed lost in the first half of your sentence, and you could practically see the cogs whirring in his head. For a moment, you were worried that the closet had been a one-time thing—but no, he’d mentioned just earlier that he liked you, so clearly something else was the matter.

Your worries were answered in just another moment. “...We’re supposed to talk about our relationship?”

“Zoro.” You gave him a look of disbelief, forced to suppress another laugh, though this time it was out of incredulity. “Yes. Have you ever dated anyone before?”

Zoro made a face at that. “Keeping that to myself, thanks.” He dropped his chin, glancing down at where you were, still leaning over you so you were forced to crane your neck to stare up at him. He tilted his head to the side. “So what kind of talking are we supposed to be doing?”

“You know, the establishment of being exclusive; a cementation of our feelings; what the relationship entails; where we want it to go…” You paused, watching as his eyes flickered down your face. Your words were going in one ear and out the other. “You’re not listening at all, huh.”

“Not really,” Zoro said, not sounding very apologetic about it. His free hand came to cup the underside of your jaw, tilting your head up just so. “Is the talking really that necessary?”

You shrugged, trying to keep your cool. “Eventually.”

“Eventually,” he repeated, stretching out the syllables of the word as he quoted you. “So we can do it another day.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to hide your smile. “What were you thinking?”

Zoro was slotting his lips over yours before you could say another word, his fingers digging into the hinge of your jaw to allow him better access. You smiled into the kiss, lips curling upwards and open to let him lick into your mouth.

It wasn’t too risqué, but Zoro took your breath away all the same, an appreciative murmur low in his throat as he kissed you. One of your hands wrapped around his wrist, tugging him insistently downwards so you could get a better angle at his mouth, sucking gently at his lower lip. He nearly stumbled, losing his center of gravity before steadying himself, one hand coming to rest on your ribcage as the kiss deepened.

“Guys!” Usopp’s voice came somewhere from the right, high-pitched and excessively scandalized. You felt Zoro scoff into your mouth.

“You realize you’re in public, right?” Nami deadpanned, plopping down in the seat next to you. You nudged Zoro’s head away, his hand still on your jaw, half-craned over your figure. Nami looked unimpressed, eyes flickering from Zoro to you and back again. “Get a room. Go back to the Going Merry for all I care.” She extended a hand, placing a mug of beer on the table before you before handing you a matching one. “I got you drinks. You’re welcome.”

“Thanks,” you said, leaning up to press one final kiss on Zoro’s lips before turning to take the glass Nami had outstretched. Usopp groaned, covering his eyes with one hand and lifting a giant cup of something with the other. It was so big you wondered how he’d even been able to carry it. You eyed him. “You’re going to pass out drinking that.”

Usopp made a face at you. You just laughed.

“Sorted out your issues with the waiter, then?” Nami asked, turning to fix a knowing look on Zoro. He rolled his eyes, effortless as ever as he settled back down into his seat.

“Still don’t like the waiter.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, and Zoro scoffed, picking up the mug Nami had gotten him. You could see the smile behind the glass rim, though, even as he clearly tried to hide it, and matched it with one of your own.

Zoro ducked his head to smile into his beer. Usopp made a gagging sound. “God,” Nami muttered, but their criticisms might as well have been deaf to your ears by then.

All you could see was Zoro.

#one piece live action #one piece netflix #opla #reader insert #x reader #opla roronoa zoro #opla zoro #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #one piece live action x you #one piece live action x reader #opla fanfic #opla fanfiction #opla zoro x reader #kiki writes!

3K notes · View notes

sluttywoozi · 2 months

Text

Golden Hour | husband!joshua x reader

After a long day of surf and sun, Joshua somehow still has the energy to fuck you into the hotel mattress. Being in love (and obsessed) with his wife always pays off.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~4.4k | Pairing: hjs x reader | Genre: smut

Part of the Husband Joshua series! Can be read as a standalone

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V

Warnings: idk how to surf so if this is wrong blame wikihow, possessive!josh, drink mention but it doesn’t have to be alcoholic, oral r. rec., spitting, some spanking, fingering, piv sex, breeding kink but they don't want kids, creampie(s), cockwarming

Reader Notes: has breasts and a vagina, on some form of birth control, referred to as a wife, wears a bikini (every body is a bikini body), wears a dress

Joshua raises a hand to his face, holding it above his eyes to block the glaring sun as he scans the crowded shore for you. He’s been out in the water for a while, trying to improve his surfing skills and also perhaps trying to impress you, just a little. Neither you nor him have been to the beach since your honeymoon, and he doesn’t want you to think those lessons he splurged on while you were having a spa day were for nothing.

He’s caught a few waves so far but hasn’t made it close enough to the shore to see your face, so he has no idea if you’ve been watching him or if you’ve just been reading and listening to music. He won’t be hurt if you haven’t had your eyes on him, but he does want you to see him ride at least one wave.

He hears some murmurs from the few other surfers in front of him and turns around, instantly seeing what has them talking. There’s a big one coming in, building and building and building, and if he starts paddling now, he just might make it.

So he leans forward onto his stomach, his arms powering through the water even as his muscles begin to ache from so much use. The ocean beneath him starts getting sucked in, contributing to the rolling wave, and he prepares himself to pop up and find his balance.

His heart races as he takes off, getting his feet beneath him and standing on steady legs, his arms loose and his eyes trained on the shore. He rides the wave as far as he can, bailing when it starts to peter out and immediately swimming up to catch his breath. Climbing back onto his board, he looks around for your rented rainbow sun umbrella, grinning when he realizes he’s much closer to it than he thought he’d be.

You’re not under it though, his smile dropping as he starts to survey the beach, searching for you. He can’t seem to find you, and for some reason that has his heart racing again, this time in anxiety rather than exhilaration.

“Joshie! That was amazing!” You exclaim from somewhere to the left of him, your voice just a bit faint but still easily recognizable. He whips his head over, his shoulders relaxing as soon as he sets eyes on you, wading waist deep in the clear blue water and making your way toward him.

He beams and hops off the board, closing the remaining distance and catching you with one arm as you launch yourself at him. The other keeps hold of his board, though he wishes he had both hands free to hug you back.

He also wishes he could feel your skin against his, but his swim shirt is still in the way and he won’t be able to take it off until you let go of him, which he’s not going to ask you to do any time soon.

It’s silly but he’s missed you while he was out surfing, even though it’s only been a couple of hours. You’ve been on vacation for three days already and he’s grown used to sharing every minute with you, being in your presence for each breath in and each breath out, bar bathroom breaks and the one nap you took without him when he wanted to explore and you wanted to stay in.

He wishes it could be like this all the time, but he’ll settle for the rest of the week if only because he knows he’ll have you for the rest of his life.

Too soon, you pull away, sliding your hands from his shoulders to rest on his chest, your touch appreciative and the slightest bit possessive. His hand on your waist tightens, his fingers digging into the soft flesh exposed by your bikini. You let him pick out your swimsuit today, and while some men might want to cover their wife up, he’s the opposite.

He thinks it’s hot that people are looking at you, wanting you, not knowing he’s the only one you’ll ever go home with. They realize when he presses his lips to yours in a claiming kiss, when he lets his hands wander a little, when they notice the matching rings on your left fourth fingers.

He doesn’t even know if anyone is looking at you now, too busy staring into your eyes to notice anything else, but he feels the urge all the same. You can already tell what he wants, leaning in to meet him in the middle as he kisses you deeply, slowly, sucking at your bottom lip and sliding his tongue into your mouth when it opens on a gasp.

His hand slips down to your ass, squeezing it over your swimsuit hard, pulling your cheek up and over, surely tugging at your pussy too. You squirm against his chest, pressing closer to him as your fingernails dig into his pecs.

He remembers you’re at a public beach when a wave crashes into you, and thank goodness it did because he was millimeters away from slipping his hand into your bikini bottoms so he could find out if you’re wet from the water or wet for him.

He pulls away and laughs, shifting his hand to your lower back and pecking you one last time before breathing, “Should we head back to the room?”

“Yeah, I think we should. Wanna lay out enough to dry off first?” You offer hopefully, and while he kind of just wants to throw you over his shoulder and haul you to the hotel now, he knows you hate tracking water through the clean lobby.

“Sure, baby, we can do that,” he smiles fondly, giving you one last squeeze and releasing you. His board goes under one arm and you go under the other, your hand coming up to hold his as you walk back to the shore together.

He splits off from you to return the board to the surf shack, promising he’ll bring back one of those coconut drinks for you to share though he knows you’ll likely have most of it.

The line isn’t too long for the return of the board or the purchase of the coconut drink, thankfully, and he walks back to you with care, not wanting to spill even a drop.

You’re on your stomach to the side of the umbrella when he arrives, not under its shade but close enough that it’s obviously yours, a thick terry cloth blanket spread out under you with just enough room for his body too. He sighs contentedly as he sits next to you, handing over the drink and smiling as your eyes widen with glee, your lips pursing around the straw to take an excited sip.

He reaches for the hem of his surf shirt and yanks it off, wringing it out away from the blanket and laying it flat on the edge of the lounge you no longer occupy. You roll over to lay on your back and he feels your eyes on him like a physical touch, your gaze hot and familiar on his chest and stomach.

He loves how you look at him, loves that you’d rather stare at him than at the beautiful beach around you, loves even more that you’re obsessed with his body just like he’s obsessed with yours.

He also loves that this way, he can look at you too. You shift up onto your elbows, your breasts jiggling with the movement, and he feels a bolt of desire shoot straight down his spine as he lets his eyes lovingly travel over every available inch of you. Over your soft tummy and your squeezable hips and your perfect, perfect thighs. Thighs he wants to suffocate between. Thighs he wants to sink his teeth into. Thighs he wants to hold down to the bed as he-

“I think I’m dry enough. Are you?”

He clears his throat and attempts to clear his head, but images of you still swim through his thoughts, even as he nods and tugs at his board shorts to subtly adjust himself. They don’t feel as wet between his fingers, just damp, and when he reaches for his shirt, it’s close enough to dry that he only cringes a little as he pulls it back on.

You pack up together quickly, and Joshua is almost relieved when you reach for your dress and tug it over your head, needing a reprieve from your near naked body. He’s less relieved when he remembers that it’s a fucking sundress.

Of course it is, that’s all you’ve been wearing on this trip, and he doesn’t know how he forgot. This is worse, because it’s his favorite article of clothing on you, and because he knows all you’ve got on under it is an easily untied, flimsy little bikini.

It takes everything in him not to pull you into one of the changing cabanas, bend you over, and make you scream for him; he manages somehow, the knowledge that he can do the latter two when you get into the room tiding him over, but only just.

He’s silent while you return the umbrella, his hand tight around yours as you walk through the lobby, and he’s glad you know him well enough to understand that he’s not upset or annoyed, just nearly out of his mind with desire for you.

The wait for the elevator feels like eons, especially when he looks at you in the reflection of the metal doors, your form slightly fuzzy but clear enough for him to see the rise of your tits under your dress and the way the hem flutters gently over your thighs. Those thighs…

The doors part with a ding and you pull him inside, pressing the button for your floor before the elevator fills with other guests, leaving you and Joshua at the back. You’ll have to maneuver in between them to get out but it means he can slide his hand up your dress and squeeze your ass again, his fingers slipping under your bikini to touch your bare skin.

They creep closer to the heat between your legs with every stop, and he’s just about to reach your pussy when the elevator lands on your floor. He reluctantly takes his hand back and rights your dress, murmuring, “Excuse us,” as he weaves around the few people left. When the doors close behind you, he twines his fingers with yours and breaks into a jog, tugging you to the room and grinning as a few bitten back giggles escape you.

He bounces on his toes as you dig the card out of your bag, your trembling fingers inserting it into the lock and his hand turning the handle as soon as the light glows green. He pushes the door open for you, following closely with his other hand tight on your hip, his dick already hard and throbbing in anticipation.

You’ve barely set your bag down before he’s steering you to the bed, crowding you up against the edge, and pressing your shoulder to bend you over. He flips up the hem of your dress and tears down your bikini, knocking your legs apart with his own and pushing his left knee up until yours rests on the bed. He’s sure you expect him to drop his shorts and sink right into you, which is probably why you gasp when he falls to his knees and slaps your ass with both hands before spreading your cheeks apart and shoving his tongue inside of you.

You taste fucking divine, the beloved flavor of your pussy tinged with salty seawater, and he groans deeply into you, fucking his tongue in and out of your entrance and swallowing as his mouth fills with saliva and your arousal.

He fucks you with his tongue until you’re whining and shaking above him, tilting your hips to improve the angle and rocking into his movements. The leg keeping you up starts to quiver, and he pulls away just long enough to gasp out, “On the bed, baby, get on the bed.”

You listen, clumsily climbing up and stretching out for him, face down, ass up, just like he likes you. He smacks your ass again just because he can before spreading your pussy open with his thumbs and spitting on your clenching entrance. Some of it seeps inside of you and some of it trails down to your clit, leaving the bud glistening and just begging for his attention.

He leans down and wraps his lips around it, sucking in hard, quick pulses until you cry out, “Joshie, please!”

“Please what, baby? Tell me what you want,” he mumbles into you, just loud enough for you to hear.

“Your fingers, I want your fingers,” you whimper into the pillow, arching your back and pressing further into him in wanton need.

He licks his lips to get one last taste of you and slides two digits deep inside, giving you no time to adjust to the intrusion before pulling them out to the tip and sinking them back in. His pace rockets up, his tired muscles hard at work as he fucks you with his fingers, the wet sound of your pussy accepting them filling the air.

He wants to hear your voice too, slowing down and leaning over you to slide his fingers beneath your cheek and turn your head to the side so you’re no longer muffled by the pillow. Your gaze catches his and he smiles tenderly at you, pressing a kiss to your temple before returning to his previous position and hooking his fingertips into your g-spot, grinding harshly into it.

Predictably, you yelp, your eyes squeezing shut as he focuses on massaging that sensitive patch, his breath catching as he feels you get wetter around his fingers. You’re moaning now, your brows scrunched with pleasure and your mouth stuck open, and he reaches his free hand up to tap at your bottom lip with two fingers, sliding them into your mouth when you open wider for him.

You suction around them immediately, your tongue laving over his knuckles and bathing his fingers in saliva, and he feels his cock throb in his shorts in response, the memory of your perfect lips around it visceral and precious. He yanks his fingers back before he can get too distracted, reaching around you to sandwich your clit between them.

He starts fucking you with his other hand again, your hips jerking with it, stimulating your clit as he curls his fingertips towards your stomach, tapping your sweet spot with every thrust. It’s not long before you’re gasping out his name and clenching down, your thighs juddering as you fight to hold yourself up through the pleasure.

He doesn’t stop, pinching your clit harder and digging his fingers into you, scissoring them to stretch you out for another. A third squeezes in beside the first two, making you whine and claw at the duvet, your cunt contracting and trying to suck his fingers in deeper when he pulls them out.

“Fuck,” he groans, releasing your clit to press down on your back and deepen the arch, making it even easier for him to hit your g-spot. He wants to be inside of you, desperately, but he wants to make you cum again first, wants you to be so wet, he can just glide right in.

You’re getting close, he can tell by the way you’re pushing back into his thrusts and sobbing, and he doesn’t know what possesses him to say it, but it just feels so fucking right that he can’t stop the words from coming out.

“Cum for me and I’ll breed you full.”

You suck in a sharp gasp and bear down, your pussy rippling and leaking and fever hot as you break apart beneath him, your arousal soaking his hand and dripping down his wrist. It seems like it lasts forever, though he’s sure it helps that he’s still fucking his fingers into your g-spot as much as your tightness will allow.

He knows you’re done when you whimper brokenly and pull away from his touch, your hand reaching back to hold his wrist in place so he doesn’t follow you. He decides to let you catch your breath, sliding off the bed to shed his shorts and wipe his hand off on a towel, bringing it with him so he can spread it out under you like he should have done before.

You’re on your side when he returns, and he climbs back onto the mattress before carefully tugging at your shoulder and hip, pulling you to rest on your back and waiting for you to look at him.

When your eyes blink open, they’re teary and dazed, and you watch as he gathers a couple pillows, weakly lifting your hips just enough for him to slide them under you and lay the towel out on top of them. He’s gentle as he sets his hands on the backs of your knees and pushes your legs up, the angle making it easier for you to keep them tucked to your chest when your hands replace his.

He can tell your head is full of clouds by the way you gaze at him, and he attempts to bring you some clarity by asking, “Remember what I said before?”

You think for a second, your lips pouting as you try to recall, and he can’t resist leaning down over you and pressing his mouth to yours, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip before he soothes the sting with his tongue.

When he pulls away, it seems to come to you, and your eyes clear up just a bit as you respond, “You said you’d breed me full if I came for you.”

“Good, baby, that’s right. So what do you think I’m going to do now?” He asks, sitting back up on his knees and shuffling closer to lay his aching cock on your wet pussy, just barely grinding against you.

“You’re gonna-,” you take in a halting breath. “You’re gonna breed me?”

“Yeah, honey,” he nods with a hungry smirk, shifting his hips back enough to line himself up before pressing forward a few inches and popping the head of his cock inside of you. “I’m gonna fuck you full of my cum, until it’s dripping out of you. And then I’m gonna fuck it back in, and fill you up even more. Until it takes.”

You whimper from deep in your throat, pressing your lips together and readjusting your grip on your legs, your eyes darting down to stare yearningly at his cock.

“Do you want that?” He whispers, working himself in as slowly as he can manage, teasing both you and himself.

You just nod, but he wants to hear you say it, needs to hear it from your own lips.

“Tell me then.”

“I- I want you to fill me up with your cum, fuck a baby into me, please.”

He sinks the rest of his cock inside of you, covering your hands with his and spreading your legs wider, pushing them into your chest and resting his weight on them as he draws back and snaps forward.

He’s not gentle now, and he’s definitely not slow, his hips smacking into your ass as he thrusts forcefully into you, his grunts of exertion soon joining the cries escaping you. You’re staring up at him with stars in your eyes, your fingers tight on your thighs beneath his and your pussy fucking flawless around him, and he’s never been so in love.

That’s a thought he has constantly but he means it every single time, his devotion to you endless and all consuming.

His appetite for you is voracious enough to rival it; the need, the sheer greed that he feels when it comes to you stripping him down to his basest desires. He’s only human in the end, and nothing could be more human than the urge to love you, to fuck you, to breed you, to keep you. He knows you’re his already but beyond that ring on your finger, there’s one other thing that could show the world you belong to each other, and that includes pumping you so full of his cum, it sticks.

He’s getting close already just thinking about it, and the way you’re clenching and fluttering around him doesn’t help in the slightest. He wouldn’t mind breaking this early though, not when it means he can just get hard again and fuck his cum even deeper into you.

“Joshie,” you whine in the voice that means you’re inches away from the edge, and he feels his body respond, his heavy balls drawing up tight and his cock hardening further within you.

“Cum whenever you want, baby. I’m not stopping anytime soon,” he vows darkly, fully intent on keeping you in this bed and on his dick for the rest of the day. Maybe for the rest of his life.

You shudder at his words, gasping when he shifts his hips and changes the angle, the head of his cock now bullying right into your g-spot. He can’t hit as deep like this but he knows it’ll be enough to unravel you, and that’s exactly what he wants.

He grins wickedly when you start to ripple around him, knowing the waves of your orgasm are beginning to overtake you, and when it’s at its peak, he sinks in deep and lets you carry him with you. He groans roughly at the feeling of your undulating walls milking his cock, relief and bone deep satisfaction filling him as he fills you.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even slow down, fucking you through the sensitivity and burying his cum deeper inside of you. You buck against him in overstimulation, crying out his name with tears in your voice, and he feels his cock twitch and get harder, your pussy like a molten velvet vise around him.

An hour and two more loads pass by in a blur, every minute melting into the next as he ruts into you, barely pulling back enough to get any friction but grinding into your sweet spot to keep you pliant. He thinks he might’ve fucked you dumb, no words escaping your parted lips and no thoughts behind your glassy eyes. You’re still holding your legs up though, and that’s how he knows you’re present enough to hear him.

“Said I would fuck you full, didn’t I, baby?” He laughs breathily, his eyes trained on the sight of his cock thrusting into you, the combination of your arousal and his cum seeping out around him in bursts. “I think you’re pretty fucking full.”

You mumble something but he doesn’t catch it, and he shifts your legs onto his arms and leans down, bracing his hands on the bed to hold himself up. “What was that, honey?”

“Not enough,” you gasp out, releasing your thighs to wrap your arms around his neck. “It’s not enough, Joshie, I want more.”

Your words blend together but he hears them all the same, and a jolt of desire surges through him, traveling down his spine and ending in his cock. He gets his legs under him, trapping you in a mating press so he can put more power behind his hips as his strokes get deeper, longer, your fingernails digging into his neck with every thrust of his aching dick.

“I can give you one more, baby, I’ll give you whatever- whatever you want,” he groans raggedly, his vision blurring and his hips stuttering as he nears the edge for what he fears may be the last time. You clench and squeeze and flutter around him, whimpering, “Please, Joshie, breed me,” and that’s it for him.

This time when he cums, it’s enough to steal his voice, his breath, his thoughts. It’s blinding, the pleasure, but that just means he feels everything. He feels you falling to pieces on his cock, he feels the warmth of the sunset on his back, he feels his heart racing in his chest. He feels his cum filling you again, replacing what he’s fucked out, and more than anything, he feels satiated, like there’s nothing left to give and nothing left to take.

He all but collapses into you, shifting to rest his knees on the bed and dropping your legs from his arms, his face buried in your neck as he trembles and gasps for air. Your cunt is still hugging him tightly, and he winces at the sensitivity of his spent cock but doesn’t pull out, can’t pull out, not when he knows that all of his hard work will go to waste as soon as he does.

You run gentle fingers through his salty hair, your chest slowly rising and falling against his, and his body starts to grow heavy, exhaustion weighing him down and the comfort of your pussy keeping him warm.

He’s asleep before the golden light of the sun fades from the sky.

“Joshua, with everything we said, I have to ask… Have you changed your mind about kids?” You ask softly, your back to his chest and your body between his legs as you laze in the massive hotel bath together.

He presses his lips to your neck and thinks, only for a second, before responding, “No, I’m happy with our life. I don’t need anything but you.”

You let out a sigh of relief and turn in his arms, resting your cheek on his shoulder and tucking your legs up, your knees just barely out of the water. He scoops some up and pours it over you, not wanting you to get cold.

“Good, I feel the same way.”

“Love you,” he murmurs into your hair, kissing your crown and rubbing his hand up and down your back.

“I love you,” you whisper in return. “The breeding kink was hot though, let’s keep that?”

“Oh yeah, baby, for sure.”

AN: for @thatgirlfromwindsor and these anons 💖

Seventeen Masterlist

Main Masterlist

2K notes · View notes

violentdelightsandviolentends · 11 months

Text

Honey Girl.

Synopsis - The Universe shows you your soulmate when it feels like you need them most. When you least expect it, you're given yours - Bucky Barnes. Your Dad's best friend. You can try to refuse it all you like; but the Universe wants what it wants. There's no denying fate.

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 5.1k

Warnings - cursing. sexual content towards the end. mild alcohol consumption. age gap. smut in next chapter(s).

Author's Note - part one is finally here!! thank you so much to everyone who asked to be tagged, and who liked and reblogged the masterlist. i am SO excited to share this with you. i've built this world in my head and trust me it is gorgeous - salty ocean breezes, sunsoaked sailboats and billowing white linen shirts. i hope you can lose yourself in my little seaside town with bucky for the time it takes you to read this, just as i did while writing it. i can't wait to write more of this series for you x

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Requests. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight.

Tethering /tɛð(ə)rɪŋ/

An event in which two soulmates are bound together forever. Only occurs when the Universe decides it is time. No sooner, no later.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The gentle ocean breeze gives you a moment of respite from the scorching sun that's beating down. You're half asleep, laying on the cool tile of your balcony when your phone rings.

"Babe! Babe! Babe!"

"Lacie? Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"I am freaking out right now, oh my god. I didn't know who to call. You'll never guess what just happened to me!"

You can guess. In fact, you already have.

Lacie's Tethering. It's finally happened.

You're taught, growing up, that your Tethering is the biggest moment of your life. It shapes who you are forever. Sets you on your eternal path. You're presented with your soulmate in a big display of love and affection and metaphorical fireworks. It's supposed to be magical.

You wish people would shut up about it.

The World seems to be split into two categories - the people that have been Tethered, and the people that haven't.

You fall into the latter.

You're repeatedly told it'll happen one day. It'll happen when the time is right. It'll happen when you least expect it.

You're not sure you ever want it to happen.

The idea that the Universe determines the person you're with forever has never sat right with you. What happened to free will? What happened to personal preference? You believe you should at least have a choice in the matter. It's your future, after all.

Not everyone shares the same sentiment.

"Babe, you still there?"

Lacie's excitement filled voice pulls you back to reality.

"Yeah, I'm here."

"Are you busy? Can you meet me for coffee, like, now?"

You take a deep breath and plaster a fake smile on your face.

"Sure. I'll see you in ten."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Oh my god babe, it was just incredible! You won't even believe it. There's nothing like it, truly."

You remind yourself quickly that Lacie is your best friend, and that you owe it to her to be happy for her. Personal feelings about soulmates aside.

"Tell me all about it, Lace!" you encourage, grabbing a hold of her hand excitedly.

The blonde girl squeals before shuffling closer to you, pressing her knees against yours.

"Okay, so. Picture this. I'm at my gym, doing my usual routine. I'm wearing my super cute pink Lulu Lemon set, you know the one with the flowers?"

She waits for you to nod in affirmation before she continues.

"So, I accidentally drop a weight on the ground, and it makes the biggest noise. I'm super embarrassed, and I'm trying to pick it up, but it's so heavy. And then, the hottest guy I have ever seen appears. Like, seriously gorgeous."

As much as you despise the whole soulmate thing, you can't deny how happy Lacie seems. She's almost vibrating with it, bouncing up and down in her seat.

"He comes over and picks it up for me, sets in back on the rack. And then he introduces himself, and shakes my hand, and it happened."

"What was it like?" you smile, eager for her to carry on.

"Like fucking magic."

You've heard that before. A million times. From literally everyone. Surely it can't be that magical if billions of people have experienced it.

"Magic?" you prompt.

"It is indescribable, babe. It's like... it's like everything just falls into place. Like everything finally makes sense!"

She jumps out of her chair, hugging you tightly. She's practically sat on your lap in the coffee shop, but neither of you really care.

"So, what's his name? What's he like?"

"His name is Cameron. He's new in town, he just moved here for work. He's a personal trainer, so he's like, super fit. And gorgeous. Did I mention gorgeous?"

"Maybe once or twice," you laugh.

"I'm so happy," Lacie whispers, emotion choking her voice. "I can't believe it finally happened. This is the day I've been waiting for since I was a little girl."

You hug her tighter, and ignore the look you get from the barista.

"I love you," she declares, suddenly serious. "You know that me being Tethered now doesn't change that, right?"

"I know," you confirm. "I love you too, Lace. I'm really happy for you."

You genuinely mean it. Lacie has talked about meeting her soulmate every day since you met her in the 3rd grade. You may have never quite shared her enthusiasm, but you admire her passion. And you adore her, more than anyone.

"So, what now? Are you gonna get married tomorrow and run off into the sunset?"

"I'm choosing to ignore your sarcasm because I know you're using it as a coping mechanism," she tells you pointedly. "And I know that there's a tiny part of you that wishes you'd been Tethered already, so you don't have to deal with everyone talking to you about it."

Jackpot. She's read you like a book.

"No, we're not getting married tomorrow," she rolls her eyes before continuing, "but we are going on a real date tonight. We're gonna get dinner and get to know each other. Isn't this crazy? I'm going on a date with the guy I'm gonna be spending the rest of my life with!"

"That is kinda crazy, actually," you laugh. "What are you gonna wear?"

"It doesn't matter - we're going to be together forever anyway!"

You make Lacie promise to send you a picture of her outfit as you're leaving the coffee shop, which she agrees to with glee. On your way home, you pick up some of your Mom's favourite wine, and prepare yourself for another soulmate based conversation that will inevitably happen when you tell your parents the events of the day at dinner tonight.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Hi, sweetheart!" your Dad beams as you step through the front door of your childhood home.

"Hey, Dad," you greet, allowing him to pull you in for a hug. "Where's Mom? I brought wine."

"Kitchen," he gestures with a nod of his head. "She's making that mango dessert you like."

Walking into your Mother's kitchen is like dipping your feet into a pool on a scorching hot day. The windows are propped open, curtains billowing softly in the wind. The ocean breeze drifts through the room, ruffling your Mom's dress and floating the hair away from her face. The evening sun beams in, illuminating the space with a golden glow. It smells like fresh fruit, mint, and salt water. It's a haven.

"Hi, Mama."

"Oh, my love! Just in time. I was about to call you to see if you were alright."

She makes her way over to you and kisses you on the head swiftly, before walking to the cabinet to grab wine glasses.

"Sorry I'm a little later than I said. I changed my outfit three times - it's warmer than I thought it was going to be."

"I know! Summer, finally. We've been waiting long enough."

She takes the bottle of wine from your hand and pours it into the glasses.

"You've poured four, Mama."

"Didn't your Dad tell you? Bucky's joining us for dinner."

"Oh. No, he didn't mention anything."

"He's back from his vacation. He promised he'd show us all of the pictures he took!"

She grabs the glasses and floats out of the room, leaving you alone in the kitchen, thoughts of Bucky Barnes swirling around like dust in the sunlight.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky.

Your Dad's best friend.

They met a few years ago, when Bucky moved to town. He said he was looking for something quieter, sick of city living. He wanted to slow down a bit, finally take a breath.

He was out for a run around town, getting his bearings, when he stopped your Dad on the driveway to ask about his car. They bonded over their love for motorcycles and vintage vehicles, and the rest is history.

Bucky's been a regular fixture in your life for so long, you can't remember a time before. All you know, is that it was probably a little more peaceful. His boyish charm is infectious, bringing out the youth in your Dad. They're like teenagers, when they're together. Long lost frat brothers, your Mom jokes.

She's got a soft spot for him. Most people do. It might have something to do with the fact he's devastatingly handsome.

It's no secret that Bucky Barnes is a ladies man. He is without even trying. He's charming, gorgeous, funny in all the right ways. He's mysterious, but not disarming. Tough, but not scary. Rebellious, but not a liability. He's a catch.

A catch, with a taste for beautiful women.

Your Dad always jokes that he's the towns most eligible bachelor. You can't count on two hands the amount of women you know that have dated him - but nothing seems to stick. He isn't Tethered, after all.

Some people choose not to date, if they haven't met their soulmate. They wait and wait, and when the time comes, they're complete. Others take pleasure in dating before it happens. Might as well make the most of the freedom, Bucky said once. You can't help but agree.

Might as well make the most of the freedom.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Hey, buddy!" you hear from the hallway. You make your way out of the kitchen to be met with the sight of Bucky, sun-kissed and practically glowing. His hair has a few light streaks from the sun, and the faint freckles on his cheeks are more prominent now. His steel blue eyes meet yours, mischief rife in them.

"Hi, honey," he greets, draping an arm around your shoulders. He kisses you on the cheek, light stubble scratching your skin. You throw an arm around his back and look up at him.

"There's no way this tan is natural," you tease, nudging him slightly.

"It makes me even more gorgeous, doesn't it?" he jokes, winking at you. He squeezes your shoulder before letting go, grabbing a bottle of wine from his bag.

"I brought your favourite, Lori."

"So did I," you echo, laughing.

"Great minds, honey. Great minds!"

"You can never have too much wine," your Mom yells out from the kitchen doorway. "Bring it in here, Buck. I'll put it in the refrigerator."

"Yes ma'am," he obliges, making his way to her with a smile on his face.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Guess what happened today," you begin, in between bites of your strawberry salad.

The three of them look at you intently, urging you to continue.

"Lacie got Tethered."

"How exciting!" your Mom squeals.

"That's a long time coming," Bucky chimes in. You look at him and smirk.

"Tell me about it."

"Here we go," your Dad smiles. "Our two anti soulmate protestors."

"Don't make it sound so political," Bucky laughs. "She's the only one that gets it."

"I've said it a thousand times, and I'll say it again. Just. You. Wait," your Mom lectures. "The two of you don't get it."

"Magic, fireworks, eternal love, blah blah blah. Trust me, I get it."

"She gets it," Bucky echoes. "And so do I. The Universe decides our fate, and we get no choice whatsoever. I don't believe in it, is all. I have no faith in the system. I should get to choose."

"But you feel like you are choosing," your Dad defends. "It didn't feel like it was being determined for me. It's hard to explain."

"It's just so... backwards," you justify. "I can't believe we live in a Universe where we have all the choices in the world, but don't get to choose the person we spend the rest of our lives with."

"It's worked out pretty well for us," your Mom smiles.

And it has. The first thing anyone notices when they meet your parents is that they are undeniably in love. You've never met two people more perfect for each other - which should solidify your belief in the Universe, really. But it doesn't. You can't explain where your lack of faith in it came from. It just appeared one day, and you haven't been able to shake it since. You're grateful every day to have two Tethered, happy, smitten parents. You've seen how hard it is for people with Untethered Mothers and Fathers. The judgment, the uncertainty, the hushed whispers. It sounds unbearable.

"Yes it did," your Dad confirms, shaking you from your thoughts. He reaches for your Mom's hand and kisses the back of it tenderly, eyes never once leaving hers. You look to Bucky next to you, who smiles at you gently. Feelings about soulmates aside, the both of you love these two people sat across the table with all your heart.

"Trust me, sweetheart," your Mom begins. "I know you're against the idea now - God knows I was the same at your age. But when it happens, you'll forget about all of your rebellion. You'll just be happy."

You nod in agreement, praying for the conversation to be over. As if he can read your mind, Bucky pipes up.

"Let me show you some pictures from Italy. I did promise I would."

You shoot him a grateful look before picking up your empty wine glass and making your way to the kitchen for a refill.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The dining room is now lit solely by candlelight, wax dripping onto the white lace tablecloth like condensation on a cold glass. The sun fell asleep hours ago, the four of you enjoying each others company with no regard for time.

"Oh, shit. It's late," your Dad says suddenly.

"You got big late night plans?" you tease.

"We have Clara and Mike's wedding at the weekend, so we're flying out tomorrow. We should probably get some sleep, so we're not exhausted."

Your Mom rises from her chair and kisses you on the head, before grabbing the dessert bowls from the table. Your Dad helps, smiling every time his hand brushes hers accidentally.

"Thanks for coming, kiddo. Your place next week?"

"Of course. I think I'll try that salmon recipe you sent me."

"Can't wait," your Dad assures you, giving you a one sided hug. He squeezes you once before letting you go to grab your shoes.

You can hear your parents saying their goodbyes to Bucky as you tie your laces, smoothing out the skirt of your dress as you stand. They all join you in the hallway, Bucky leaning over to grab his jacket from behind you. Fuck, he smells good.

"Have a great time at the wedding, you guys. Send me pictures, please!" you say as you hug your Mom goodbye.

"We will! Drive home safe, the both of you!"

They shut the door softly, leaving you and Bucky stood on the porch. The evening air chills your bare legs, salt in the breeze sticking to your lips.

"Where's your car?" he asks, looking around.

"Oh, I walked. It was a nice day, and I'm trying to be a little greener. Save the planet, and all," you chuckle.

"You want a ride, then?" he offers, leaning against the side of his truck.

"Uh - maybe," you hesitate, shifting your weight from foot to foot. You feel antsy, for some reason. There's a buzz flowing through your veins, making you a little restless.

"Maybe?" he smirks.

"I just, I'm not sure if I wanna go home yet. It might be that I've had three glasses of wine, but I'm kinda... jittery? Think I need to burn off some energy. Maybe I'll walk home."

"Like hell you will," he grumbles.

You quirk a brow in confusion.

"It's dark, and all those college kids are in town on their break. I don't trust 'em."

You fight to keep the grin off your face. You weirdly like it when Bucky gets protective. He's always so calm, so relaxed - it takes a lot to rile him up. He looks hot with a clenched jaw.

"Why don't we go somewhere?"

"Where?" you ask tentatively.

"I don't know," he thinks for a second. "How about the beach?"

You smile, gazing at him with a twinkle in your eyes.

"I fucking love the beach."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The ocean waves break the shore steadily, the repetitive pattern calming you both. You're sat on the sand, grains slipping through your hands where you're pouring it out through your fingers. The light of the moon reflects off the surface of the sea, illuminating the abandoned cove. It's just you, Bucky, and the night sky.

The alcohol in your system has evened you out, warm buzz keeping you sheltered from the chill. Bucky's stretched out next to you, strong arms folded underneath his head. His shirt rides up slightly, exposing a slither of sun kissed skin. You pretend not to notice his Adonis belt, or the little trail of hair that leads down into his waistband.

The silence is easy, comfortable. You don't get to hang out like this often, just the two of you. It's nice.

A notification on your phone breaks through the tranquility. You both flinch.

"Sorry," you mutter, checking the screen. "It's Lacie, telling me about her perfect date."

He chuckles lowly at your tone, sitting up to look at you.

"This is hard for you, isn't it?" he asks. "You hate the whole soulmate thing, but you like seeing her happy."

Bingo. It's like he's read your mind.

"I don't know why I hate it so much" you confess quietly. "It's a part of life. I can't avoid it. I just think - what if... what if I'm like, the exception, or something? What if I never meet my soulmate - or - what if I meet them when I'm like, seventy? That happens, you know! And then I'll be fucking cursed to spend my entire life feeling like this."

"And what is this?"

"Hopeless. That's what this is. I just feel pretty fucking hopeless."

You're not sure why you're baring your soul to Bucky tonight. You could blame the wine, but you know that's not what it is. Maybe it's because he seems to be the only one that understands.

"Me too," he whispers.

You whip your head around to stare at him in shock. He laughs at the look on your face, and continues.

"You're young - you have time. I'm forty in a couple of years. Every single one of my friends is married to their soulmate - except for me."

You bite at your lip nervously, but refuse to tear your eyes away from his steel blue ones. His face is lit by the glow from the moon, and it takes your breath away for a second. He looks almost ethereal.

"You always act so... unbothered. I didn't realise... I guess I just, I didn't -" you try to gather your thoughts before continuing. "This fucking sucks, huh?"

He laughs with his whole chest, and you're convinced the sound is so special, so rare, that you should bottle it. Sell it as medicine. It'd cure anything, you're sure of it.

"Yeah, it does," he agrees with a chuckle. "It's the waiting around that's the worst part. The unknown. It could be minutes, it could be decades. I just don't know."

"At least for now, we have each other," you joke.

"Every cloud has a silver lining, huh?" he teases, nudging you with his shoulder.

You allow your weight to press into his side a little, leaning in. He's warm, and he's familiar, and in this moment, he understands you better than anyone else in the world.

"We'll be okay, honey," he murmurs. "It'll all work out the way it's supposed to."

You close your eyes, and allow his words and the breaking waves to calm your nerves. Bucky wraps an arm around you, and all the tension melts from your muscles.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You're not sure if it's the honest conversation, or the brisk ocean breeze, but you've sobered up in record time. Your body registers this, and sends a shiver down your spine.

"You cold?" Bucky asks you. "You wanna go home?"

"Not yet," you whisper. "Not yet."

He shrugs off his worn brown leather jacket and slips it over your shoulders. It smells so strongly of him that it makes you dizzy. Bucky settles back down in his original place, returning his arm to where it was draped over you. His rough fingertips rub patterns into the material that now covers your arms, and you wish, for a fleeting moment, that it was your bare skin instead.

"You been working on anything new recently?" he enquires in a hushed tone, careful not to ruin the atmosphere.

"I made a damn good batch of macarons yesterday," you reply, beaming smile etched across your face. "Raspberry and lemon. I'll bring you some, next time I pass the Garage. You're gonna love them."

"You know, I think the only reason I ever get Mechanic of the Month is because you bring by all of your sweet treats."

You laugh melodiously, and the sound makes Bucky's heart stutter in his chest without warning.

"Happy to be of service," you tease. "I take requests, too, if you ever want something specific. Just let me know."

"You're the best, sugar."

You sink into Bucky's hold a little, daring to rest your head on his shoulder. When he doesn't stop you, you exhale, and relax even more.

"Are you working tomorrow?" he asks.

"Nope. You?"

"Nah. I'm going sailing, finally. It's been way too fuckin' long," he grumbles. "Your Dad's usually my right hand man, but he'll be in Ohio. You wanna come?"

The idea of laying on the deck of a boat in the blazing sunshine with a shirtless Bucky Barnes sounds like heaven. Who could say no to an offer like that?

"Yeah, of course. I'll bring a picnic, if you like. It's the least I can do."

"Sounds perfect," he replies, squeezing your shoulder.

Suddenly, he rises to his feet, extending a hand out to you. You grab it, and he pulls you up, the both of you shaking sand off yourselves.

"It's late, and dark, and a little cold. You ready to go?"

You nod your head, and make your way over to his truck, ignoring the heat that blooms over your chest when he opens the passenger door for you before his own.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Thank you, for tonight," you say as he pulls up in front of your apartment building.

"Thank you," he replies, killing the engine. "It's nice to have you back, you know. Wondered if you were gonna finish college and stay out there in California. Thought we might not see you again."

He almost sounds... relieved. The idea that he might have missed you if you didn't return effects you more than it should.

"I liked it there, but... I don't know. My family's here. I'm only twenty three. I've got time to move around the country. I missed this place too much when I was away."

"Never thought I'd hear you say that," he chuckles.

"I know, trust me. They do say absence makes the heart grow fonder."

"Yeah, they say a lot of fuckin' things," he jokes.

Bucky swings his door open, hopping down from the drivers seat. He makes his way over to your side, holding out a hand so you can jump out.

"Careful," he warns. "It's higher than it looks."

You grab his hand, and step onto the metal sill. Your foot slips slightly, sending you tumbling down and forward, out of the truck. Luckily, Bucky catches you, one hand in yours, other on your hip.

"Woah, easy. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good," you breathe.

He places his hands on your cheeks and cradles your face, searching for any signs of distress. You place your palms over his, silently reassuring him.

And then, it happens.

Warm, golden, molten electricity surges through your veins, lighting up each and every one of your nerve endings. Your surroundings explode into glorious technicolour, everything suddenly brighter and more vibrant. It feels like your heart is being ripped out of your chest, only to be replaced by one that beats in a slightly different rhythm. There's flowers blooming in your ribcage, new life happening inside of you. You catch eyes with Bucky, expecting to see his stormy blue ones looking back at you. Instead, all you see is your future.

Vivid, flashing images of Bucky Barnes fill your mind, each one of them tinted with a warm, rosy hue. You feel like you're being reinvented. Your skin is alive, hyperaware of the way Bucky's palms are still gently cupping your cheeks. Your fingertips tingle with anticipation where they rest on his, itching to touch every inch of him. You feel as if the oxygen has been stolen from your lungs, and replaced with love.

Your knees are the first to buckle, the weight of the moment taking you down. You hit the ground, and so does Bucky, his palms not once leaving your face. You're both kneeling on the warm concrete, ocean waves providing a distant soundtrack. Blood is rushing in your ears, and you wonder for a second if you're about to pass out. You squeeze Bucky's hands so hard, it's a miracle you don't break his fingers. He squeezes back, eyes locked on one another.

After what feels like an eternity, you both break out of your reverie. You lean forward, resting your forehead against Bucky's, both of you panting.

You're trying to catch your breath unsuccessfully. You move one of your hands to rest on Bucky's chest, right on his heart. You swear the steady beat of it spells out your name.

He mirrors you, and moves his own hand to rest above your frantic heart, the other still glued to your cheek. You both breathe, in and out, trying to match each other. When you finally do, it's as if time stops. It's just you and Bucky. One heartbeat. One soul.

You break away from him to look into his eyes again. They look different, you think. He looks different.

He gazes back at you, cheeks flushed and chest heaving. The moonlight dances off your faces, illuminating the moment both your lives changed forever.

"It's you," he breathes in disbelief.

A laugh escapes your chest, surprising you both. He chuckles with you, and before you know it, the both of you are in hysterics, sitting on the sidewalk at three in the morning.

"Of course it's me," you giggle. "The two people that hate soulmates, Tethered together. You couldn't write it."

Bucky grins at you, clutching at his stomach.

You both take a breath, and realise your surroundings. Bucky gets up first, heaving you up by your arms. He towers over you, suddenly close. Not close enough, you decide. Never close enough.

You lunge forward and crash your lips to his. Bucky instinctively wraps one arm around your back, moving his other hand to hold you by the back of your neck. He tastes like salt and spearmint and every kiss for the rest of your life.

Bucky presses himself into you, attempting to tangle your bodies together. He wants to feel every inch of you against his skin, willing you to come closer. He aches to climb into you, sew himself into your ribcage. He'd be content to live there, beating your heart, forever.

You whine, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, exploring eagerly. You tilt your head back, and fist your hands into his shirt, plastering yourself to his front. He shoves his thigh in between your legs, the rough denim a welcome contrast to your soft skin. You buck your hips forward, and the friction is so delicious it makes you dizzy. You've never been kissed like this. It's almost feral. You're both surrendering to your fates, giving in to the animalistic urges coursing through you.

A seagull caws on a nearby street lamp, and the sound makes you both jump. You suddenly realise your scenario. Your Dad's best friend, who also happens to be your soulmate, has you pressed against his truck in the street, kissing you like he's running out of air and you're his only oxygen source. If it goes any further, you'll both get arrested for public indecency.

"Fuck, sugar," he murmurs against your mouth. "My pretty girl. My honey."

"My soulmate," you whisper.

The reality of it comes crashing down like a tsunami, drenching the both of you.

Bucky kisses you again, gentler this time. The tenderness makes you want to cry.

"What do we do now?" you mumble, fear coating your voice.

He senses your trepidation instantly. He feels it, actually, right in the front of his chest. It's like you suddenly share one body. There's no guessing, anymore. He knows exactly how you feel.

He takes a deep breath, trying to settle his building anxiety. He knows that if he stays calm, you'll stay calm. That's how Tethering works, right? He has to keep it together for the both of you, despite the panic that's rising in him, vibrating in his bones.

"How about... how about we both go to bed, get some sleep - and then we go sailing, later on today, just like we planned? And no matter what, we take everything one step at a time."

"One step at a time," you repeat, attempting to pacify you both.

"We'll figure it out," he reassures. "I know we will."

You find the will to step apart, which proves harder than you thought. It's like Bucky's an anchor - fastening you to peace, to happiness, to serenity. The more distance you put between your bodies, the more unsettled you feel. When you're not touching him, it's as if everything becomes unsteady, more difficult. You feel like you're on a rogue sailboat, battling the waves, threatened to be thrown overboard. Bucky is your lifevest, your lighthouse in the dark night. You're not sure how you're supposed to live your life any more than two feet away from him at all times.

You breathe, and smooth down your dress, running your fingers through your hair. You reach out and adjust Bucky's shirt where it's been wrinkled due to your tight grip.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," he murmurs, fingers tangling around your own.

"Goodnight, Buck," you echo.

He leans in to press a chaste kiss to your lips, savouring the taste of your cherry lip balm. He wraps his arms around you, unable to resist. Bucky breathes you in deeply, smiling uncontrollably. Nudging your nose with his, he murmurs gently against your mouth.

"My honey girl."

tag list <3

@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @tilltheendofthelinepal9950 @val-writesstuff @t-t-hello @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @myloveniall @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @floralwsloki @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara @alesabisou @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @pedropascalsleftfoot @cremebruleequeen @ladifreakingda @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @evan-peters-wife @llamazarecoolaf @ace-27749 @hinata7346

7K notes · View notes