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pucksandpower · 5 months

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What Happens in Vegas

Max Verstappen x Red Bull driver!Reader

Summary: the morning after the Las Vegas Grand Prix, you wake up with one new wedding ring and zero clue about what happened … or who your husband is

You wake up with a pounding headache, the sunlight filtering through the curtains feeling like daggers in your eyes. Groaning, you roll over and glance at the clock on the nightstand.

12:37 pm.

Far later than you would normally sleep, but given the circumstances, not entirely surprising.

The night before was the Las Vegas Grand Prix and things had gotten a little out of hand afterwards. Okay, more like a lot out of hand.

The details are fuzzy but you vaguely recall dancing on a table at some point and did someone get pushed into the hotel fountain?

Ugh. You make a mental note to apologize to whoever ended up taking an unexpected late-night swim last night.

Sitting up slowly, you rub your temples, trying to ease the jackhammer currently going off in your head. Getting blackout drunk maybe wasn’t the most professional move, but hey, what happens in Vegas and all that.

You stumble into the bathroom, turning on the faucet and splashing some cold water on your face. As you reach for a towel, the glint of metal on your left hand makes you pause.

No. It can’t be.

But there it is, a simple gold band around your ring finger.

A wedding ring.

Your wedding ring, apparently.

“What the hell?” You mutter, staring at your reflection in disbelief.

You rack your brain, trying desperately to remember what happened last night. But it’s no use, the details are lost in an alcohol-induced haze.

You married someone last night. In Vegas. While ridiculously drunk.

This is bad. Really bad.

Your career, your reputation, everything is on the line here. Who knows what kind of scandal this could cause if word got out? You need to figure out who you married and do damage control, fast.

Taking a deep breath, you try to calm the rising panic. Freaking out won’t solve anything right now. You need answers and sitting here panicking won’t get you any. Time to do some investigating.

You quickly throw on some clothes and head downstairs to the hotel lobby. The drivers had agreed to meet for brunch today before getting thoroughly wasted last night. Maybe one of them knows something.

As you step out of the elevator, you immediately spot a group of your friends chatting in the lobby. Max, Charles, Lando … the usual suspects.

Lando is the first to spot you. “Well good morning, Mrs. Lando Norris,” he says with a cheeky grin.

You freeze. No way. There’s no way you married Lando. The kid is like a little brother to you. An obnoxious, hyperactive little brother. But Lando just laughs at your stunned expression.

“Kidding! You should see your face right now,” he giggles. Little punk. But at least that rules out Lando as your surprise husband.

You roll your eyes and shove Lando playfully before turning to the others. “So, crazy night last night, huh?” You say, aiming for nonchalance.

Max shrugs. “I mean, it’s Vegas. Things do tend to get wild.”

“Right, wild,” you echo. Time to cut to the chase. “So wild that I ended up getting married apparently.”

You hold up your left hand, wedding ring glinting in the light. The others stare at it then at each other, puzzled.

“Wait, you actually got married last night?” Charles asks incredulously.

You throw your hands up in exasperation. “Yes! And I have no idea who I married. Come on mates, you must remember something from last night that can help me figure this out.”

But their faces are blank, everyone shaking their heads. Useless, the whole lot of them.

You turn to Max, who averts his eyes, looking uncomfortable.

“Max, come on. You always know everything that happens on these nights out. Help me out here,” you plead.

Max shuffles his feet, not meeting your gaze. “I mean, it was pretty crazy. I was very drunk too,” he mumbles.

You sigh in frustration. Clearly you’re not getting anywhere with this group. You need to try someone else, someone who maybe left the party early last night.

You recall Fernando complaining about the horrible music at one point. Bingo.

“Alright, I gotta go see if I can find someone who can get me answers,” you announce. “You drunkards are no help.”

As you turn to leave, Charles calls after you, “Let us know if you find out who the unlucky guy is!” This earns snickers from Lando and Max.

You shake your head and head out to find Fernando. That Spaniard better have some useful information or there will be hell to pay.

One thing is certain, you will get to the bottom of this. You need to find out who this mystery husband is, sort out this mess, and most importantly, get this ring off your finger before the media catches wind of your drunken Vegas wedding.

This is going to be one hell of a day.

***

After leaving the unhelpful group in the lobby, you set out to find Fernando. The Spaniard has always had a keen eye for details. If anyone saw what happened last night, it would be him.

You find Fernando sitting alone at a table in the closest coffee shop, sipping an espresso. He looks irritatingly fresh-faced and put together given the wild night you all had.

“Well good morning, chiquita,” he says with a smirk as you plop down across from him. “You look like you had quite the night.”

You scowl at him. “No thanks to you. Leaving the party early again, I see.”

Fernando shrugs. “What can I say? I’m getting too old for these Vegas nights out with you crazy kids.”

You roll your eyes dramatically. “Oh yes, grandpa, you’re soooo old at 42. Anyway, I need your help figuring something out.”

You hold up your left hand, the wedding ring glinting under the lights. “Any idea how this might have ended up on my finger last night?”

Fernando raises an eyebrow, looking far too amused. “Well well, our little Y/N got married in Vegas. Who’s the lucky man?”

You huff in annoyance. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out! I don’t remember anything from last night. But I woke up this morning hungover as hell with this on my hand.” You waggle your finger for emphasis.

Fernando sits back, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, interesting. And you say you remember nothing?”

“Nothing!” You exclaim, throwing your hands up. “Everything after the third tequila shot is a total blank. Please tell me you saw something that can help me out here.”

You give Fernando your best pleading puppy dog eyes but the Spanish driver just shakes his head.

“Sadly, I did not witness this alleged wedding. I turned in early, unlike you wild youths.”

You groan and let your head fall to the table. “This is bad, Fernando. Really bad. I could lose my seat over this if the team finds out I pulled a stunt like this. I need to figure out who I married!"

Fernando pats your head condescendingly. “There there, I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think. Your secret is safe with me.”

You peer up at him suspiciously. “Just how secret is this? The smirk on your face makes me think you know something.”

The smirk widens. “Maybe I know something, maybe I don’t. But I’m not going to spoil the surprise for you.”

“Nando!” You smack his arm as he laughs. “This isn’t funny! Just tell me who I married!”

“Nope,” he says, popping the P obnoxiously. “It is too entertaining watching you squirm.”

You let out a frustrated growl. “You’re the worst. I don’t know why I bothered asking you for help.”

“Because you love me, that’s why,” Fernando says with a cheeky wink.

You can’t help but smile a bit at that. You’ve always had a bit of a soft spot for the menace.

“Ugh fine, keep your secrets,” you concede. “I’ll figure this out without your help.”

You start to stand up but Fernando stops you. “Leaving so soon? Stay, have some breakfast with me. You’re going to need your energy today.”

Your stomach rumbles at the mention of food so you sink back down into your seat. “I guess I could eat something while I plot my next move.”

A waiter comes by and you order a massive plate of food to soak up the alcohol still swimming in your system. As you tuck into your meal, you notice Fernando watching you from across the table, looking thoughtful.

“You know,” he says. “Whoever you ended up marrying ... they are a very lucky man. Underneath this hungover mess, you have a good heart. Don’t be too hard on yourself over one wild night, eh?”

You pause mid-bite, touched by his sincerity. “Thanks, Nando. That really means a lot coming from you.”

He smiles and squeezes your hand briefly before returning to his coffee. The playful twinkle returns to his eye. “Even if you did get married like an idiot last night.”

You snort. “Wow, thanks. Way to ruin the moment there.”

Fernando shrugs, unrepentant. “What can I say? I live to annoy you, little sister.”

You finish up your meal, feeling slightly better with some food in you. As frustrating as that encounter was, at least you can count on Fernando to keep this quiet. Time to go gather more clues.

You stand and point an accusatory finger at Fernando. “This isn’t over. I will get to the bottom of this mystery marriage!”

Fernando just smiles enigmatically. “I have no doubt. Good luck, Mrs. Whatever Your New Last Name Is.”

You stick your tongue out at him maturely and flounce away. That man is infuriating. But the quest continues. Time to find the next driver on your interrogation list.

***

You decide to try your luck with Daniel next. The Aussie partied hard but he’s also a notorious gossip. Maybe he caught wind of something that can point you in the right direction.

You find Daniel lounging by the pool, sunglasses on, basking in the Vegas sun like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

So unfair.

“Hello there, sunshine,” he drawls as you walk up. “Don’t you look fresh as a daisy this fine day.”

You glare at him from behind your own sunglasses. “Stuff it, Ricciardo. I’m only here because I need information from you.”

Daniel gasps, clutching his chest dramatically. “You wound me! Here I thought we were friends.”

“We are friends,” you roll your eyes. “When you’re not being a pain in my ass.”

“A pain in that fine ass of yours? Perish the thought!”

You smack him lightly upside the head and he chuckles. “Alright alright, what do you need from old mate Daniel?”

You plop down in the lounge chair next to him and hold up your left hand. “I need you to tell me anything you know or can remember about how this got on my finger last night.”

Daniel lets out a low whistle. “Well tickle me pink and call me Sheila, Y/N’s gone and got herself hitched in Vegas!”

You shush him frantically. “Keep your voice down! The last thing I need is for this to get out.”

Looking far too delighted by the situation, Daniel leans in conspiratorially. “Right, top secret and all that. Who’s the lucky fella then?”

You sigh. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Everything after we moved on to OMNIA is a total blackout. Please tell me you know something.”

Daniel taps his chin thoughtfully. “Let me think here ... I may have some recollection of the night’s events.”

You perk up. “Yes? Go on then, tell me!”

“I do seem to remember ...” he pauses theatrically, “... that I was your very own ring bearer for the occasion!”

Your face falls. “Seriously? That’s all you’ve got?”

Daniel grins cheekily. “What can I say, it was a beautiful ceremony. I was truly honored to be part of it.”

You smack his arm. “You’re no help at all! Come on, I’m desperate here.”

Daniel laughs and puts up his hands. “Alright, alright, I’m just having a bit of fun with ya. Truth is, I was as pissed as the rest of you lot last night. Don’t remember much myself.”

You sigh. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy.

Daniel must take pity on your crestfallen face because he places a hand on your shoulder. “Chin up, Y/N. So you got a little wild in Vegas, it happens. I’m sure you’ll get it all sorted out.”

You nod but can’t keep the worry from your face. “I know, it’s just ... this could really screw things up if anyone finds out. I don’t even know who I married!”

“Well then it’s a good thing you’ve got the Honey Badger on the case!” He proclaims cheerfully. “I may not have the details but I’ll sniff around and ask some questions on the down low.”

You smile gratefully. “I appreciate that. Hopefully someone around here knows something.”

Daniel pops to his feet and offers you a hand. “Too right! Now come on, up you get. Let’s go scrounge up some greasy food and hair of the dog for that hangover, eh?”

You let Daniel pull you to your feet, feeling bolstered by his positivity.

As you head towards the sports bar in search of a burger and fries, Daniel slings an arm around your shoulder. “Cheer up! This’ll make for one hell of a story someday. It might even become a Grill The Grid trivia question.”

Despite everything, you have to laugh. Trust Daniel to look for the bright side.

But you still can’t ignore the uneasy feeling in your stomach. You married someone last night. For real. It’s not just some random hookup you can laugh off. There’s a living, breathing person out there who you pledged your life to and you don’t even know their name.

What kind of person did drunk Y/N choose as a life partner? Are they worried about this too? Or are they some opportunistic sleaze looking to take advantage of you?

You shake your head, realizing Daniel is watching you with a quizzical look. No use speculating. Just keep searching for answers, one driver at a time.

***

After saying goodbye to Daniel, you set off in search of Lewis. As the life of every party, surely he has to know the details of your wild night.

You eventually track him down just outside the hotel, walking his beloved bulldog. Lewis grins when he sees you approaching.

“Ah the bride awakens at last! We were wondering when you’d emerge,” he says with a chuckle.

You roll your eyes. “News sure travels fast. I’m guessing Nando blabbed?”

Lewis shakes his head. “When you have an impromptu wedding in the middle of a rager in Vegas, people are going to talk.”

You wince, dreading how far word of this has already spread. But that’s a problem for later. Right now, you need information.

“About that ...” you say. “I don’t suppose you happen to know who I ended up marrying last night?”

Lewis’ grin widens. “Now what kind of best man would I be if I spilled the beans?”

You stare at him in shock. “Best man? You were there?”

“But of course!” Lewis declares. “Had to lend my impeccable fashion sense for your dress. Pulled some strings with a stylist I know and got you all hooked up last minute.”

Your mind is reeling. You got married in an actual wedding dress? This just gets worse and worse.

You wrack your brain trying to picture it. But you have zero memory of any dress. Lewis must read the confusion on your face.

“Don’t worry, I had it safely delivered to your room after you started taking it off in the middle of the club. Though I’m guessing you were in no state to keep track of it,” he chuckles.

You shake your head, still stunned. “I didn’t see any dress in my room. What did you do with it?”

Lewis taps his chin. “You know, I did pop in this morning to check on you but you were still passed out cold. So I had the dress boxed up and sent off to be preserved and framed as a gift.”

He crouches down to scratch Roscoe behind the ears. “That’s from me and this good boy right here. Couldn’t let such a work of art go to waste!”

You’re touched in spite of yourself. “That’s really sweet, thank you. But I would really rather just know who I married right now.”

Lewis stands back up and wags his finger. “Ah ah ah, where’s the fun in that? This is the most entertainment we’ve had all season!”

You groan as Lewis laughs. “Come on, Lew. Have mercy and put me out of my misery here.”

But Lewis just zips his mouth. “My lips are sealed! Don’t you worry though, he’s a great guy. You’ve got my stamp of approval.”

You cross your arms in frustration. Of course Lewis would drag this out like a sitcom. But his clue gives you pause.

“He’s a great guy,” Lewis said. So your mystery spouse is someone Lewis personally knows and actually approves of. That narrows it down a bit.

Lewis gives you an apologetic smile and checks his watch. “I’d best be off. But don’t worry, you’ll figure this out!” He tosses a wink over his shoulder as he saunters away with Roscoe in tow.

You watch them go, mind spinning.

Lewis doesn’t just compliment anyone. So apparently drunk Y/N didn’t marry a total disaster. That’s something at least.

You absently twist the wedding band around your finger. You wish you could remember anything about him, about what happened between you.

Did you have a beautiful ceremony? Exchange heartfelt vows? Share a magical first dance as spouses?

You shake your head ruefully. If so, what a shame not to remember any of it. Here’s hoping that this “great guy” turns out to be someone who can make you fall in love all over again ...

***

You decide on a new approach — find the person who actually married you and your husband last night. Whoever officiated the ceremony must know the identity of your mystery groom.

The only problem is, you have no idea who that could be. It’s not like Vegas chapels employ actual priests or judges to perform marriages. It was probably just some random person licensed to perform marriages.

You start making the rounds of the chapels on the Strip, showing your ring and asking if anyone remembers you coming in during the night. But you have no luck — most of the chapels you try to check in with aren’t even open yet, catering to the drunk impulsive crowd that comes out after dark.

After hours of fruitless searching, you plop down on a bench in front of the Venetian, racking your brain for what to try next.

A group of women in matching Bride Tribe shirts walk by, laughing and chatting in that way only tipsy daytime bachelorettes can.

One of them pauses as they pass and calls out to you. “Hey hun, you look down. Guy trouble?” She gestures to your ring.

You debate waving her off but then reconsider. Maybe a bachelorette party would know their way around the Vegas wedding scene.

“Yeah, you could say that,” you reply. “I’m trying to find the person who married me last night but it was a bit of a ... wild impromptu thing. I don’t even know where it happened.”

The women gasp excitedly. “Oh my god, a drunk Vegas wedding? That’s epic!” Says the one in the rhinestoned Bride To Be sash.

“Epic disaster more like,” you mutter but can’t help smiling. Their enthusiasm is infectious.

The bride puts her arm around you. “Don’t worry sweetie, we’ll help you sort this out! I know all the best chapels.” She turns to her posse. “Ladies, let’s help her track down her mystery hubby!”

You find yourself swept up in the bachelorettes’ mission to assist you. After barraging you with questions about the wedding (“Please tell me you at least had a cute dress?” “Oooh was it Elvis themed?”), they decide that the most likely chapel was The Little Vegas Wedding Chapel off the north end of the Strip.

You all pile into their pink party bus and soon pull up at the aforementioned chapel. The receptionist greets you with a smile. “Welcome ladies! Who’s the lucky bride today?”

The girls nudge you forward. You clear your throat awkwardly. “Well actually, I’m trying to find out if I was a bride here last night.” You show her your ring. “I don’t remember much but I know I got married. I was hoping you might have a record?”

The receptionist types away on her computer, then frowns. “Hmm doesn’t look like we had any late night weddings yesterday. Our last was at 10 pm.”

You sigh but thank her anyway. So much for that idea. At least the bachelorettes are still upbeat as you climb back on their bus.

“No luck there but it was still a fun adventure!” The bride-to-be seems to have all the enthusiasm in the world.

You nod, grateful for their attempts to help. As the bus starts moving, the bride gasps.

“Wait, girls, I think I know where we need to go!” She turns to you excitedly. “There’s this little all-night chapel down on Fremont Street. Our friend Val got married there on a total whim a few years ago and she said it was fabulous!”

A chorus of squeals greets this news. You aren’t sure this is a solid lead, but hey, it’s not like you have any better ideas.

“Alright, let’s give it a shot!”

Twenty minutes later you’re climbing out of the bus in front of a small chapel with a neon 24 Hour Weddings sign. Taking a deep breath, you push through the door into the kitschy Vegas-themed space.

At the front counter is an older man in an Elvis costume that must be at least a size too small. Bingo. You hurry over and show him your ring.

“By any chance did you marry me and some guy last night?”

The Elvis impersonator peers at you for a moment before his face lights up in recognition. “Well slap me sideways, you’re the lovely lady I helped get hitched last night! What a shindig that was!”

Your heart leaps. Finally a lead! “Yes that was me! Do you by chance have a record of who I married?”

Elvis frowns. “You mean you don’t remember the young fella? He was real handsome, said some mighty sweet vows if I recall correctly.”

You shake your head in frustration. So close and yet so far.

Elvis pats your arm. “No worries darling, old Elvis remembers. I gotcha hitched to ...”

You lean forward eagerly as Elvis taps his chin, racking his memory.

“Now let’s see ... young fella you married. He was oh ... a bit taller than you I’d say. Had one of them European accents — German, Swedish, or somethin’ like that. Brown hair I think. A pretty good lookin’ chap. Dressed real sharp too.”

Your heart sinks as Elvis delivers the extremely vague description. Brown hair and a little over your height? Well that only narrows it down to about half of the paddock!

You groan and smack your forehead in frustration. So close! Elvis gives you an apologetic look.

“Aw shucks, wish I could tell ya more little lady. But I was croonin’ so many love songs last night that all you couples started to blend together.”

You force a smile, knowing he did try his best. “That’s alright, I appreciate you checking for me.”

Back outside, you fill in the eager bachelorettes on Elvis’ less than helpful clues. Their excitement deflates a bit.

“Dang, that could be like, anyone!” One says, voicing your thoughts exactly.

The bride-to-be squeezes your shoulder. “Don’t worry hun, we’ll keep thinking! Your mystery man is out there somewhere.”

You give her a grateful hug. “Thanks ladies, for all your help today. I should probably get back to my hotel and keep investigating.”

The gaggle of girls walks you back to the bus, firing off more wild theories about your potential groom.

“Oooh what if it’s that sexy Spanish driver … Alfonso?” Suggests the bridesmaid named Amy.

“It’s Alonso,” you correct with a laugh. She may be way off but you appreciate the enthusiasm.

As you say goodbye to your new friends, your mind is spinning once again. So Elvis confirmed this wedding really happened, though his clues weren’t particularly enlightening.

But he did say one thing — whoever you married gave sweet vows. So apparently in your drunken state, you picked someone who could be sincere and romantic.

That has to count for something, right?

You glance down at the wedding ring on your finger, the physical reminder of the huge secret you’re unraveling. Did you really promise to spend your life with someone here of all places? And do they plan on holding you to that promise?

Your gut twists with anxiety but also a trace of curiosity. Who is this mystery man who can make drunken Elvis shed a sentimental tear?

Whoever he is, you’re going to find him.

***

Exhausted after a day of fruitless searching, you decide to head back to your hotel to regroup. You slump down onto one of the plush couches in the crowded lobby, mind still spinning over the bizarre situation you’ve found yourself in.

Who exactly did you end up pledging eternal devotion to in your drunken stupor last night? So far your quest to unravel this mystery marriage has led nowhere.

But you can’t rest yet. You need answers.

As you sit there contemplating your next move, your phone starts blowing up with Twitter notifications. You blink in surprise. Must be big news dropping for this much activity.

You open the app and nearly swallow your tongue when you see the top trending hashtag: #Y/NMaxWedding.

Your stomach drops to your feet.

No no no, this cannot be happening!

But with a sense of impending doom, you click on the hashtag. Immediately you see the bombshell that has sent your world into a tailspin.

It’s a tweet from a fan account, featuring photos they somehow obtained of a Clark County Nevada marriage certificate between you ... and Max Verstappen. Your teammate.

You stare slack-jawed at the images of the official document signed by you and Max as spouses, clear as day. Your drunken Vegas escapade isn’t a secret anymore. It’s public record, blasted all over social media.

Numb with shock, you scroll through countless tweets analyzing, freaking out over, and cracking jokes about you and Max’s surprise nuptials. Some fans are outraged. Others seem delighted at this bombshell gossip.

You groan, head in your hands. This is an absolute disaster. What was merely a drunken mistake is now immortalized online. There’s no hiding it or hoping it will blow over quietly.

You married Max freaking Verstappen in Vegas. The sometimes arrogant and standoffish but always crazy talented driver you’re teammates with. No wonder he was acting so squirrelly this morning when you asked about the wedding.

Some logical part of your brain knows you need to talk to Max, start figuring out what to do for damage control. But the overwhelmed emotional side just wants to crawl under a rock and hide.

In a daze, you make your way up to your suite. Once inside, you toss your phone onto the bed, not even bothering to read the likely hundreds of texts blowing it up. You are in no state of mind to talk to your manager or team right now.

Collapsing onto the couch, you stare blankly at the wall, feeling numb. Despite all your investigating, a part of you still hoped that maybe it wasn’t real. Maybe the ring and certificate were just part of some elaborate prank.

But there’s no denying it now. You’re well and truly married to Max Verstappen.

A hysterical laugh bubbles out of you. Of all the drivers, of course you had end up with him. Max, your fiercest rival, constantly pushing you to be better. The teammate who drives you crazy but also loves to compete with you and rile you up.

God, your friends are never going to let you live this down. Married to Max. It’s like some cheesy fanfiction brought to life.

You glance over at your silent phone. The logical part of your brain knows you need to call him. You’re going to have to talk about this and figure out what the hell to do next.

But the overwhelmed part wants to put that conversation off indefinitely. You need time to process the bombshell that just upended your life before you can face Max.

Your inner debate is interrupted by a knock at your door. You freeze. No doubt it’s the Red Bull PR team come to scold you or paparazzi looking for a comment on your no-longer-a-secret marriage. Well you have nothing to say to them!

“Go away!” You yell but the knocking persists. With an irritated huff, you wrench open the door, fully prepared to give whoever’s there a piece of your mind.

Instead, you come face to face with the person you least expected but probably most needed to see. Max stands in your doorway, sheepish and awkward.

For several tense beats, you just stare at each other, the weight of this life-altering moment hanging between you.

Finally Max breaks the silence. “So ... quite a day, huh?” He gives an uneasy chuckle.

You continue gaping at him, stunned into silence. Max shuffles his feet, not quite meeting your eyes.

“Can I uh, come in? I think maybe we should talk.”

Wordlessly, you step aside and let him enter the suite. Max perches on the edge of an armchair while you sink onto the couch. More tense silence.

Max clears his throat. “So I’m guessing you’ve seen it?”

You nod mutely. Max sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

“Look, Y/N ... I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. But I woke up just as confused as you this morning. Wasn’t totally sure it was even real.”

He hesitates then continues softly. “You were pretty out of it last night. We all were. Getting hitched was obviously crazy but I guess it seemed fun in the moment.”

You shake your head, finding your voice at last. “This goes way beyond fun, Max! We’re married! Actually married!" Your voice edges up hysterically on the last word.

“Yes it was a ... crazy night,” Max laughs nervously.

You scoff bitterly. “That’s putting it mildly. I’d say a drunken Vegas wedding to my teammate counts as more than just crazy!"

Max winces at your tone. “Look Y/N, I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. But we were all wasted last night. I didn’t even remember at first—”

You cut him off sharply. “Well I don’t remember any of it! As far as I’m concerned, this so-called marriage never even happened.”

You begin pacing. “We need to get this annulled immediately before things get worse. It was clearly an idiotic mistake.”

Max frowns, looking hurt. “Whoa, no need to be so harsh. It may have been drunken impulse but ... maybe it was also fate.”

You stop pacing and stare at him incredulously. “Fate? Are you insane?”

He stands and steps towards you. “Hear me out. We’ve been teammates for years now. Maybe deep down we both wanted this.”

Your jaw drops open. Max keeps going.

“I know it’s crazy but what if this marriage was meant to be? We owe it to ourselves to give this a real shot before bailing.”

You gaze at him in disbelief. Is he seriously suggesting ...

“Give this a real shot?” You repeat faintly.

Max takes your hands earnestly. “Yes! We’ve always made a great team on track. Just imagine how great we would be together off track too.”

You open your mouth to argue but Max presses on. “Plus, my children need a mother.”

You yank your hands back in shock. “Children? You have kids?”

“Well, not human kids,” Max admits sheepishly. “But my cats, Jimmy and Sassy! They need a maternal influence.”

Your head spins as you try to keep up with Max’s ramblings. Is he pranking you right now?

He fixes you with his most charming smile. “Come on, wifey. Just give it a chance! We’re clearly compatible if drunk us wanted to get married.”

You stare at him like he sprouted a second head. Max gazes back hopefully. His smile really is kind of adorable ...

No! Snap out of it! This is crazy.

But he does raise some valid points. And backing out now would cause an even bigger scandal ...

You slump down onto the couch with a groan. “Fine! We’ll stay married for now. But we explain to the team it was just drunken foolishness.”

Max pumps his fist. “Yes! See, we’re already compromising with each other. It’s like we’re meant to be husband and wife!”

That finally breaks through your haze of shock. Oh god ... you have to tell Christian Horner that you married Max Verstappen.

***

You take a deep breath as you stand outside Christian’s hotel suite, arm raised to knock. “Ready for this?” You ask Max.

He grimaces. “Ready as I’ll ever be. Might as well get it over with.”

You steel your nerves and rap sharply on the door. After a moment, it swings open to reveal Christian mid-yawn.

“Y/N, Max, to what do I owe the pleasure?” He asks curiously.

You shuffle your feet, not sure how to start. “Uh, hey Christian. Max and I have something we need to discuss with you. Mind if we come in for a minute?”

Christian narrows his eyes but steps aside to let you both in. “What’s this about? I just got off a conference call with the factory team in Milton Keynes and I was finally planning to try my luck with the slots downstairs.”

You perch awkwardly on the edge of an armchair while Max stands next to you stiffly.

How do you even begin to break this kind of news to your boss?

“So Christian, funny story ...” you start lamely.

Max jumps in, deciding to just rip the bandaid off. “We got married last night.”

Christian’s eyes widen comically. For a long moment he just looks between you two like you each have three heads. Then he throws his head back and laughs heartily.

“Good one guys, you almost had me there! Trying to pull one over on your poor old team principal, very funny,” he chuckles, wiping his eyes.

You give a weak smile. “No uh, we’re actually being serious. We got married for real last night.”

Max nods. “It just sort of ... happened.”

Christian collapses onto the sectional, looking between you in shock. “This would be a great time for you to stop with the prank.”

“I’m afraid we can’t do that,” Max says solemnly. “We were drunk and it was all really quite fast ...”

“No no, this must be some kind of joke!" Christian protests, though he’s starting to look uncertain. He grabs his phone off the coffee table. “Let me just check online, there’s no way ...”

His voice trails off as he scans his phone screen, eyes going wide at the headlines. With a low groan, he collapses back into his armchair.

“It’s true? You two actually ...” He drags a hand down his face. “Please tell me this is all some elaborate hoax the internet cooked up. Please tell me that two other people named Max Verstappen and Y/N Y/L/N happened to get married in Vegas last night.”

You shake your head helplessly.

Christian drops his head into his hands with a groan. “Unbelievable. Two of my drivers running off and eloping in Vegas! The media is going to have an absolute field day with this.”

He fixes you both with a stern glare. “Do either of you have any idea the position this puts the team in? The scandal it could cause?”

You hang your head, properly chastised. Max speaks up tentatively. “We’re really sorry, Christian, it was incredibly stupid of us. But it’s done now so we just have to deal with it.”

Christian sighs heavily. “You’re not wrong. The last thing we need is more media drama so we will have to get out in front of this.”

He pauses, regarding you both shrewdly. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’ll pursue an annulment right away and we can pretend this never happened?”

You glance at Max, who takes your hand and shakes his head. “We’ve talked it over and want to make this work. It happened for a reason.”

Christian makes a strangled noise. “Make this work? You plan on staying married??” His voice rises in pitch, verging on hysterical.

“We want to try,” you confirm, squeezing Max’s hand.

Christian looks desperately between you two once more before his eyes roll back and he slumps over in a dead faint.

You and Max rush over in concern. “Christian!" Max taps his face urgently. “C’mon, wake up!”

After a few tense moments, Christian’s eyes flutter open. “Wha ... what happened?” He mumbles.

“You passed out when we told you we’re staying married,” you explain sheepishly.

Christian groans, covering his face with his arm. “God help me, this is a nightmare ...”

You have to bite back an inappropriate laugh. Seeing your usually unflappable team principal so flustered would be funny if the situation wasn’t so serious.

Max helps Christian sit up and hands him a glass of water. “Sorry for springing this on you. But we’re going to make the best of it.”

Christian fixes Max with a weary look. “Just promise me no more reckless surprises from you two.”

You and Max raise your right hands in unison. “We promise!”

Taking a deep breath, Christian straightens his shirt and smooths his hair, regaining his composure. “Right. Well this is certainly an unexpected development. But the show must go on.”

He adopts his usual businesslike tone. “We’ll need to draft a press release announcing this immediately and get ahead of the media cycle. No commenting publicly until we strategize.”

You both nod obediently. Christian checks his watch. “I needed to get our PR team on the phone five minutes ago. You two, order room service and lay low until you hear from me.”

He ushers you politely but firmly out the door. As it shuts behind you, you turn to Max with wide eyes. “Well ... that could’ve gone worse?”

Max winces. “I thought Christian was going to burst a blood vessel at first. But it seems he’s taking it in stride.”

You both burst into slightly hysterical laughter, the stress melting away.

Looks like you have a marriage to figure out how to actually make work.

***

One year later

You take a deep breath as you knock on the door to Christian’s office, Max by your side. It’s time to break some more big news to your team principal.

“Come in!” Christian calls.

You enter to find him sitting at his desk surrounded by the usual organized chaos of strategy plans and data analysis.

He looks up, blinking in surprise. “Y/N, Max, what brings you by?”

You glance at Max, who gives you an encouraging nod and tentative smile. Turning back to Christian, you clasp your hands together nervously.

“Hey Christian. So, remember last year in Vegas when we promised no more reckless surprises?”

Christian’s eyes narrow warily. “Yeeesss ...” he draws out.

You look at Max again who blurts out, “Well we have another surprise coming your way. You’re going to be a grandpa!”

Christian’s jaw drops. His gaze darts down to your still flat midsection then back up to your nodding, beaming faces.

“You ... you’re ...” Christian stammers, looking like all the blood has drained from his face.

You take pity and confirm it for him. “Pregnant, yes. Surprise!” You add with an awkward chuckle.

For a few long moments Christian just sits there, mouth opening and closing wordlessly like a fish. Then, his eyes roll back and he topples forward, head thunking down on his desk.

You and Max rush forward. “Uh no, I think we broke him again,” Max winces, gently shaking Christian’s shoulder.

After a few tense seconds, Christian stirs with a groan. “Oww, my head ...”

“You passed out when we told you about the baby,” you explain sheepishly.

Christian blinks blearily up at you both hovering over him anxiously. “The baby ... so it’s really true then?”

You place a hand on your stomach. “Yep! There’s going to be a little Verstappen running around in around seven and a half months.”

Despite his obvious shock, Christian manages a weak smile. “Well how about that ... we’re expanding the Red Bull family.”

Max claps him on the back. “I know it seems a bit crazy but we’re thrilled.” He squeezes your hand and smiles softly.

Christian lets out a long breath, straightening his rumpled shirt. “Well, I appreciate you both coming to me first this time. We’ll need to strategize how to share the happy news.”

You can’t resist teasing him gently. “Don’t worry, we’ll do our best to avoid making you faint again in the future.”

Christian levels a stern finger at you both. “See that you do. My heart can only take so much.” But his mock glare melts into a warm smile.

You exchange a grin with Max.

It turns out that sometimes what happens in Vegas doesn’t stay in Vegas … but neither of you is going to complain about that.

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babyur2nice · 3 months

Text

▎night walks with felix

౨ৎ synopsis: you’re stressed out from exams and decide to pay felix a visit.

—————————————————————————

you sigh, tears blurring your vision as you struggle through another problem on your economics homework. no matter how much effort you put in, you can’t seem to make any progress in understanding the material. having been working for the past six hours, you’re also exhausted. with the exam just two days away you’ve scarcely allowed yourself a break to eat, decisions that are now catching up to you as you struggle to focus.

after 10 minutes, you can’t take it anymore. it’s late and you know your body won’t allow you to study anymore, yet you still feel guilty giving in. you close you textbook, the tears starting flow as the stress overtakes your body.

your brain almost immediately jumps to your boyfriend felix, wishing he was there to hold you and tell you that everything would be alright. you glance down at your alarm clock on your desk. 12:37, it reads. you sit with your head in your hands trying to decide whether he’d be awake.

against your better judgement, you take the all too familiar walk downstairs to felix’s room and knock softly on his door, not wanting to wake him if he was asleep. you don’t hear anything at first and then you hear rustling and a moment later the door cracks open revealing felix, in nothing more than his blue and white striped pajama pants rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

he looks at you and your puffy eyes, face shifting quickly to express a look of concern. “what’s happened, what’s wrong” he asks, pulling you inside and shutting the door.

“it’s stupid, shouldn’t have woken you up, ‘m sorry” you sniffle, the tears flowing all over again at the fact that you had disturbed his sleep.

“no no, none of that doll” felix says taking your face in his hands, “its not stupid if it’s making you upset, tell me what’s wrong so i can make it better”

another sob shakes your body as felix cringes, hating seeing you in pain, and pulls you into his chest. he places his hand on the back of your head petting your hair gently as you tell him about your exam and the stress you’ve been feeling.

he listens exceptionally well, not interrupting you once as he holds you against his body, letting you expel your frustrations. “im sorry doll” he says when you finish. “im glad you came to me, you needed a break”

you nod against his chest, as you slowly catch your breath.

“let’s go for a walk yeah?” felix asks. “always helps me clear my head”

“don’t you want to go back to sleep?” you ask, guilt once again taking over as you remember that he had been fast asleep prior to your arrival.

“nonsense” he says kissing the top of your head. “im already up, why waste a perfectly good night? here.” he says as he pulls two sweaters out of his closet passing one to you. “put this on, don’t want you to catch a cold out there”

you smile at him gratefully as you pull the sweater over your head. once it’s on, felix reaches down to brush a loose strand of hair out of your eyes. “so pretty” he mumbles almost to himself before taking your hand in his and leading you out of the dorm and into the refreshingly cool night.

“where are we going” you ask.

felix looks down at you with a smile. “somewhere amazing” he says. he leads you across campus and into town, all the while telling jokes and stories meant to lighten your spirit.

“just a bit farther now doll” he grins as he leads you down an alley way. “we’re going to need to climb, can you do that for me?”

you nod and felix smiles at you in return “good girl.”

he beckons you towards the side of a building and the ladder attached to it. “just up here, follow me” he says as he begins to scale the ladder. he reaches the top quickly and helps pull you up after him.

you stand up and look around, letting out a little gasp. you can see everything from up here; your dorm, the pub, the library, the lake and most impressively, the moon.

felix walks up behind you, wrapping his arms around you. “it’s beautiful right? i discovered it last year and have been coming here ever since”

“it’s amazing” you say.

“you’re the first person i’ve ever brought up here” he admits. “it was mine but i suppose it’s ours now” he grins while sitting down.

you sit down next to him, leaning your head on his shoulder as he continues. “seeing everything from up here always reminds me how small i am, how small my problems are”

he wraps his arm around you, rubbing circles on your back. “you could fail your exam and none of this would change. everything would still be here, we’d both still be here, and i’d still love you. i know you won’t fail of course” he adds with a chuckle.

“felix, thank you” you say, struggling to find words to express just how much he means to you.

“glad i could help doll” he says. “i love you so much, and i promise i’ll help you study tomorrow, yeah?”

you hum in agreement as you press your body closer to felix’s as the two of you look across the town shrouded in moonlight, both knowing that this rooftop would become a sacred space for the both of you.

#felix catton x reader #felix catton #felix catton drabble #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #jacob elordi #saltburn #saltburn x reader #jacob elordi x reader

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yoongiseesawmp3 · 8 months

Text

secret - jeonghan & seungcheol (m)

summary: new boyfriend!jeonghan & ex!seungcheol. your relationship with jeonghan is still new, and your breakup with cheol is still fresh. the three of you used to be close, but time, new jobs, and moving to different countries pulled you apart. now jeonghan is back home, filthy rich and very single. so are you. after some fun at a party, you start dating jeonghan seriously. will cheol’s return send you back into his arms, or will you stand by your man? or, perhaps, a mysterious third thing will happen instead :)

word count: 27k (don’t look at me)

warnings: afab reader. eventual threesome. lots of sex. lots of cum, creampie, cum mixing, cum eating? oral (m and f receiving). bondage. use of the color system. use of a vibrator in public. fingering. car sex kinda. some ass slapping? use of the word slut.

masterlist

waking up at jeonghan’s was still a new experience for you. it’d been a few weeks since he asked you to move in with him, but it amazed you that you could open your eyes to an angel laying right next to you. today is no different. you rolled over after the first signs of morning woke you up, and you see jeonghan asleep with his hair slightly in his face, lips pouted in a silent snore. you brush the strands away from his eyes, and he lets out a noise between a hum and a groan.

“i’m sleeping,” he tells you.

“you’re doing a great job.”

“go back to sleep.”

“can’t, i’m bored now.”

“you’re insatiable,” he scolds, eyes snapping open because he knows what ‘bored’ really means. you spend the rest of the morning tangled in his sheets. er, your sheets. you live here now. jeonghan’s your boyfriend. isn’t that wild?

your relationship with jeonghan started because you were both bored. casual friends since college, you’ve known each other for years and never really knew each other. you weren’t confident you knew his last name until you heard it at graduation. after you graduated, you didn’t hear from him much, but that was more your fault than anything else. you broke his best friend’s heart. you were public enemy number one, until you weren’t anymore.

you and seungcheol dated all through college. you fell in love fast, something so sickly sweet it made people around you gag, and a little jealous. let’s be clear though: jeonghan wasn’t one of those people. when you were with cheol, you were 100% his, and jeonghan respected that more than anything else. he was a good friend to cheol, and by proxy a good friend to you. nothing more. until he wasn’t anymore.

your break up with cheol was messy. graduation took you both in different directions, and egos made it impossible for you to find a compromise. deep down, neither of you wanted to break up, you knew it was just the circumstances tearing you apart. but you chose your career and so did he, a stab to the chest that was self inflicted on both sides. when cheol chose his career, he also inadvertently chose jeonghan. they got jobs at the same great company abroad, and their twenty something brains couldn’t comprehend just how much fun they could get into as two handsome men with a lot of money.

you’re doing well for yourself too, thanks for asking. not as filthy rich as the boys, but you were living comfortably. you kept in touch with a good chunk of your college friends, catching the way they tried not to gossip too much about seungcheol’s shenanigans overseas when you were in earshot. that’s how you heard jeonghan was in town a few months ago. he was going to a party that night, and just as the idea pops into your head your friend turns to you and asks if you want to go.

the party, it turns out, was boring. the people there were also boring. what was exhilarating as hell was catching jeonghan’s gaze on you when you both knew it shouldn’t be. he’d play coy, turning away for at least a second before finding you again. finally tired of the conversation you can’t seem to escape, you keep staring back at jeonghan until he decides to come over and say hi.

“y/n,” he smiles that cheshire cat grin at you, pulling you in for a polite hug. “it’s been so long.”

“i know,” you agree, a similar smile plastered on your own face. “i see you haven’t cut your hair since you left?”

“what, you don’t like it?” he laughs, shaking his long locks out so that his bangs fall slightly into his eyes. he looks good, you find yourself thinking. he took the black tie memo on the invitation seriously, wearing a suit so stunningly fit to his body you know it must be custom.

“no, i like it,” you nod. “it’s a little douchey for a business man, but you make it work.”

“i thought being a douche was part of the job though?” he asks, and it’s your turn to laugh. jeonghan takes a sip of his drink, surveying the room before he turns back to you, “nice party.”

“sure,” you nod. “a little boring though.”

“stuffy too,” he tries, eyeing you carefully. “you wanna join me on the balcony?”

you knew going out there with jeonghan was a bad idea. you knew you shouldn’t be talking to him. you knew a lot of things were wrong with this scene, but too much of you wanted to see where it would go. turns out, it would go downhill pretty quickly.

you joined jeonghan outside, letting the cool air brush off your nerves. you look at jeonghan and find him staring at you again, so you ask, “is my makeup smudged or something? you keep looking at me.”

“i can’t admire beautiful things?”

“nice,” you chuckle, looking down at your shoes next to his. “did you want to say anything special? or are we really just out here to breathe some air that doesn’t smell like chanel no.5?”

“it’s been a long time,” jeonghan says again, and you nod. “are you seeing anybody right now, y/n?”

“hah, no,” you shake your head. “kind of on a break from men, if i’m honest. i started attracting too many weirdos not worth my time.”

“shame,” jeonghan tsks. “must have been hard for you.”

“yeah,” you agree, finding his eyes again, “boring too.”

“are you bored right now?” jeonghan asks. “because i’m pretty good at killing time.”

“are you?” you challenge, and jeonghan hums. you feel a smile breaking across your face, your stomach doing flips as you say, “prove it then.”

that was about six months ago. if the owner of that venue’s asking, no you didn’t fuck jeonghan out on the balcony that night. anyone else asks and the answer would be yes, but you’d say it with a touch more dignity. you don’t know what attracted you to him so much that you had to have him right there. maybe you had been on your strike for too long, and you were just horny. or maybe it was the idea of something familiar. something safe. close to home. close to-

you’re ripped out of your thoughts by the sound of jeonghan calling your name. he had started a shower for himself before work, and now he’s all but begging you to come join him. why else would he have two shower heads, if not for you to spend some quiet time with your boyfriend who wants to dote on you before you start your day. or maybe he has them so it was less obvious to the builder that he wanted a shower he could have copious amounts of sex in. really, his obsession with shower sex probably needed to be analyzed by somebody, but he swears he likes it for ease (already naked) and just one personal reason (soapy boobs).

the past six months have been...interesting to say the least. you really care for jeonghan, you do. you always have. but getting to know him in this new sense was different. every day was a surprise with him. part of that was due to his job, a not-so-9-to-5 that he ditched his crazy life in europe for so he could be closer to family. he left a life of beautiful food, beautiful places, and seungcheol behind for a better opportunity. maybe that’s what bonded you so quickly. despite not really wanting to, you’d both abandoned seungcheol without meaning to.

you don’t talk about him much, only getting an update from jeonghan every so often when cheol deigns to text him back. they still work for the same parent company, so sometimes their paths cross in meetings or cheol has to call to confirm numbers with jeonghan’s new domestic team. other than that, there’s nothing to say. you’ve moved on (mostly) so you assume he has too. and now that you have jeonghan, you don’t have to worry about your feelings for cheol anymore.

jeonghan asked you to move in with him mostly because he was bored. he had just renovated this huge penthouse, and after throwing a couple rager parties there he realized it was too lonely when everyone left and it was just him there, alone. you’d been trying to make a career change, so he convinced you by promising you could stay rent free and save up for when you get a new job and most likely take a pay cut. plus, he doesn’t worry about rent here either. he paid for it upfront, in cash.

once you saw the penthouse, you knew you had to say yes. it was a dream, but what sold you was the view. standing at the floor to ceiling window, jeonghan’s hands around your waist, was the first time you’d felt something stir so deep in your heart for years. you haven’t said i love you yet to jeonghan, but then again neither has he. you know you care for each other through your actions. there’s love there, even if it’s unspoken right now. that’s part of what makes dating jeonghan so thrilling. you never know what he’s going to do next, a scheming smile on his lips and an exciting adventure planned for you no matter how big or how small.

jeonghan is pretty adventurous, to say the least. he likes taking you to new restaurants where you’re not really sure what you’re eating. he loves whisking you away for weekend trips to places neither of you have ever been. his favorite though is bending you to his will, pushing you farther than you’ve been pushed before, just to see what it would take to make you crack.

the sex with jeonghan is phenomenal. another aspect of your relationship where you never know what to expect. he likes to keep you guessing and gasping his name out in cracked moans. you started talking about things to do for his birthday, and when you asked what he wanted his only response was “you.” to some people that would be romantic, but you know it’s a challenge. it sent a shiver down your spine, much like his gaze whenever you catch his eyes at an event or get a random text throughout the day. you know when he’s bored it really means something else, so it’s become a code word of sorts. at tiring work parties or other obligations he wants out of, all he needs to do is look at you and yawn and you know to meet him in the closest secluded corner for a quick fuck. if he texts you that he’s bringing you lunch at work, you go ahead and tell your coworkers you’re taking the full hour, because you’ll need time to catch your breath and redress once he’s done with you.

today is one of those days, despite jeonghan’s best efforts earlier. you had a shitty morning after jeonghan left for work, almost forgetting your lunch, missing your train, all to come in and find out your biggest project to date is completely changing course. you were so frustrated you could cry, and when you texted jeonghan that you made it to work safely he knew something was off. he didn’t press though, knowing you well enough that asking what’s wrong instead of waiting for you to tell him will just start the waterworks early. instead he keeps his phone unlocked on his desk, completely ignoring whatever his assistant seungkwan is rambling about.

“we need you to sign off on this, jeonghan,” seungkwan insists, pointing again to the document on jeonghan’s desk that he’s ignoring to watch your three dots appear and disappear again. he half asses his signature without reading the document, and seungkwan snatches it away from him. jeonghan will talk to him about that later. for now, he picks up his phone to read about your awful day and let’s out a quiet “aw baby” for you. as soon as seungkwan leaves there’s another knock at the door. jeonghan knows he’s getting into meeting after meeting now so he types out something sweet and encouraging before he puts his phone in his desk, standing to welcome whoever is on the other side of the door.

jeonghan’s message boosted your mood, slightly. he knew how to sweet talk you, promising a bath, wine, and your favorite movie tonight when you get home. it was enough hope to get you through the day. that and imagining a cartoon anvil falling on this man in your meeting who keeps mansplaining the platform that you built. you’ve almost had it when you notice the clock, and you tell the team everyone should break for lunch. you all but run back to your desk before anyone can stop you, and when you’ve barely sat down you get a text.

“coming for lunch,” jeonghan simply says, and your heart skips a beat. you contemplate eating quickly before he gets here, but he says he’s so close by that you don’t even have a chance. you dig for your food in the break room fridge, knowing you won’t get a chance to eat if jeonghan’s coming. at this point it’s mostly for show, because you can’t make it obvious that you’re leaving just to stress fuck your boyfriend. you tell your manager you’ll be taking the whole hour anyway, and then scurry outside just as jeonghan’s expensive car pulls up to your building. he slows the car to a stop in front of you, the window already down so he can call out, “hey sexy, you seen my girlfriend around here?”

“sorry mister, my mom told me not to talk to strangers,” you joke back, and your bad mood lifts when jeonghan laughs.

“get in baby,” he says, watching you intensely as you slide into the front seat. he frowns at the food in your lap, picking up the grocery bag you shoved your lunch into before you left. “what is this?”

“a picnic?”

“there are dinosaur nuggets in here,” he grumbles when he takes a peek. he looks up to you and asks, “you were gonna eat this for lunch?”

“yeah,” you shrug. “i didn’t have time for breakfast because someone took too long in the shower, so i had to pack something.”

“i didn’t even know we had these in the house,” jeonghan continues, looking at the chicken nuggets like he’s never seen something so foul. he carefully ties the bag and then tosses it into his backseat, much to your dismay. he looks at you with a cheeky smile, his hand squeezing your chin as he starts to maneuver the car out of the parking lot. “look back there baby, i picked up real food for you.”

“i don’t wanna eat yet,” you say shyly, but jeonghan doesn’t hear so you have to repeat yourself. “i don’t wanna eat yet. don’t need all that sloshing around when you fuck me in a minute.”

“oh i’m gonna fuck you huh? and what if i just wanted to share a meal with my beautiful girlfriend?” he asks in fake shock. you lean across the armrest to kiss his cheek as you reply, “then i’d ask who you are and what have you done with yoon jeonghan.”

‘good girl,” he chuckles, expertly pulling the car into a parking spot in the empty spots at the back of the parking lot down the street from your office. for your sanity and jeonghan’s reputation, you pray there aren’t security cameras over here.

“so how was your morning?” you play coy as you watch jeonghan turn the car off. something passes over his face as he responds, but it’s there so shortly you don’t know how to read it.

“fine,” he clears his throat. “lots of meetings. almost got in a bitch fight with seungkwan because he didn’t want me to leave, said i’d be late to my next meeting.”

“he knows you well.”

“yeah, whatever,” jeonghan says as he twists in his seat to look at you directly. his hand is back on your chin, lifting it up so he can trace your lips with his thumb as he asks, “what was so bad about your morning?”

as you explain your trials, jeonghan slowly moves his hand from your chin down to your neck, across your collarbone, and down to the hem of your shirt. he carefully untucks it from your slacks, listening intently as you speak while unbuttoning your blouse slowly. when you get to the part about the jerk who assumed you didn’t know anything, jeonghan’s hand was working it’s way past your panties, his fingers dipping down to your entrance. he interrupts you only to ask, “damn baby, you this wet for me?”

“i’ve been wet since you texted me,” you say like its obvious, and jeonghan smiles proudly as he tells you to go on. you start recounting your meeting from hell, voice shaky now as his fingers circle your entrance and collect your slick so he can move them up to your clit, rubbing gently without applying too much pressure. when you’re finally done speaking, jeonghan captures your lips in a kiss, pulling back only slightly so he can tell you, “i’m sorry baby. you know you could always come work with me, and then no one would treat you like anything less than a queen.” you sigh instead of responding because jeonghan’s slipped two fingers into you, your arousal providing enough glide that he didn’t have to work you open with just one. he hisses when he feels how warm you are, and jeonghan is reminded for the millionth time why he’d follow you to the ends of the earth and back. your eyes. your smile. the way you cuddle into his neck when you don’t want to get out of bed. and the glorious feeling of being inside you, whether it’s his fingers, his tongue, or his cock. he can’t get enough of you, and he knows you feel the same way because you’re already bucking your hips, begging him for more. he pretends not to hear you, just fucking his fingers into you slowly as he listens for the lewd squelch of your pussy around him.

“how’s it feel baby?” he asks quietly, and you whisper back that it feels good. “just good?”

“need more, hannie,” you whine, and he tuts.

“not yet,” he says as he checks the clock on the dashboard. “we’ve got time. you want another finger instead?”

“please,” you breathe out, and you watch him capture his tongue between his lips as he focuses on fucking you slowly. to fill the silence you ask quietly, “what did you bring for lunch?”

“i’m literally knuckles deep and you’d rather talk about the sandwich i bought you?” jeonghan laughs in disbelief. “i can’t believe you woman.”

“i told you, i didn’t eat this morning. i’m hungry.”

“need something in your mouth?” he asks, and as it so often is with jeonghan, you know this is a challenge. you think about what the right answer might be, and when you nod he lets a smile creep over his features as he says, “use your pretty little hands to get my cock out, then.”

you do as he says, gasping when you lean over to reach his crotch and feel jeonghan’s fingers slip deeper. with shaky hands you undo his belt, looking up to make sure jeonghan’s watching. his dark eyes glint at you from above, and you blow him a kiss before unbuttoning his pants to find he’s not wearing any underwear. you look back up and see his shit eating grin, shrugging as he says, “what? i was running late.”

“you’re a menace,” you hiss, his fingers scissoring inside you. he does this a few more times as you take his cock in your hand, and when you lick the tip he stills completely.

“don’t tease or i’ll stop right here,” he warns, so you get back to work, welcoming his cock past your lips and hollowing your cheeks so you can bob on his cock quickly. you’ve done this enough to know jeonghan wants something quick, messy, something that will make you embarrassed to face your coworkers after. you’re constantly shocked by his willpower though, moaning around him as his thumb finds your clit and starts drawing lazy circles. the vibrations of your moans shoot straight through jeonghan, but he shows no sign of mercy or that this is even affecting him at all.

you groan and bob your head faster, using the saliva pooling past your lips as lube to stroke the rest of his cock. you pull off of him to catch your breath, jeonghan whispering encouragement above you as his hand stills at your core. he only starts moving again when you lean down to kitten lick his balls, legs twitching ever so slightly at the contact. you’re happy to have some kind of reaction from him, your ego boosted enough that you take a few more playful licks before holding him by the base and tapping his cock over your lips and waiting tongue. he watches you amused, waiting for you to give in, and when he shoves yet another finger inside your pussy you moan so loud your eyes roll back slightly, and jeonghan admires the way a little bit of drool drips past your lips onto his seat. he swipes it up with his free hand and pops the finger in his mouth, winking at you as you watch.

you take him back into your mouth, ready to come and wanting to show him how good you can be, so you swallow around him until his cock is hitting the back of your throat and your nose is nestled against his lap, the smell of his expensive detergent drowning your senses. you’re brought back to visions of him fucking you senseless in his king bed, the sweet smell of fresh linen mingling with the scent of sex as jeonghan pulls orgasm after orgasm out of you. you shudder just at the memory, and he chuckles as he asks what you’re thinking about. you start to pull off of him to reply, but his hand stops you, chuckling as he says, “good girls don’t talk with their mouth full.”

you let him hold you down on his cock, giving up on sucking him off as you feel yourself get closer to release. jeonghan knows, so he holds you in place while he works you up to your orgasm, almost shrieking around his cock. you look up at him just as his eyes flutter, his hips sputtering as he starts to come. he keeps working you to your own high, and feeling jeonghan twitch as he comes down your throat sends you over the edge. his seat is almost ruined he thinks, seeing the way your release drips down his wrist. he groans as he watches you shake below him, always thinking you’re a work of art like this. he can’t help but admire it, and when he’s sure you’re done he moves his hand from the back of your head, reaching for your chin to carefully pull you off of him. you stick your tongue out for him to see that you swallowed it all, and he coos as he finally pulls his fingers from your core. he could be nice, he thinks, and just let you lick them clean, but instead he runs them across your face and watches as you lick at the arousal left behind. he swears he sees more drip out of you, and he has to look away or else you’ll never leave this car.

“you ok baby?” he asks as you try to clean yourself up and avoid the puddle you left in your seat.

“i’m great,” you say hoarsely, looking in the glovebox for napkins just to find a vibrator and handcuffs instead. you hold them up and jeonghan just smirks, saying, “i didn’t know what kinda mood you were in. i’m like a boy scout, gotta be prepared.”

“you don’t happen to have any of my makeup in this magic glovebox of yours do you?” you ask as you look at yourself in the rearview mirror, heart still racing from your high but somehow picking up speed when you see how fucked out you are and jeonghan barely did anything. he could drive you crazy, you think. when he softly pushes your arm off the center console to reveal everything you could possibly ever need (gum, jeonghan’s favorite lipstick on you, wipes, hand sanitizer, a pair of panties? and your favorite concealer and mascara) you think you could cry. this is what you mean when you say jeonghan loves you through his actions. he further drives that home as he reaches back for your lunch, mumbling to himself, “can’t believe she was gonna eat dino nuggets.”

when you come home that day, you’re giddy like a schoolgirl. because everything with jeonghan is still so new, sometimes it just hits you that you have a boyfriend. a boyfriend that you live with, and that always makes sure he’s home before you are so he can wrap you in a hug and kiss your forehead as soon as you get through the door. you’ve pavlov’d yourself into expecting this every time you get back from work, but today when you open the door and call out his name you’re met with silence. your eyes sweep across the living room and notice his briefcase tossed onto the couch, so you know he’s here somewhere. you head to the kitchen, stomach growling, and try to find a snack before you go searching for jeonghan.

as you’re cutting up a mango, you hear soft steps padding down the stairs and jeonghan’s hushed voice on the phone. you strain to hear what he’s saying, wondering if this is a work call or something else. maybe he’s booking a reservation he doesn’t want you to hear about, but too bad. you leave the kitchen with the plate of mango in your hands, quietly joining him on the couch as he gives you a strained smile. you smile back, kissing the corner of his mouth before holding up a piece of mango for him, humming contently when he takes it despite saying something to whoever’s on the other side of the phone. you’ve ascertained that he’s setting up a meeting, and while you usually don’t pay too much attention to the specifics of his job you can tell he’s being vague. you watch him a little longer, absentmindedly licking the mango juice off your fingers before whispering that you’re going to your room, and jeonghan nods at you before smacking your ass as you walk away. he chuckles quietly when you let out a squeal, but his heart drops to his ass when he registers what’s being said on the other line.

“what was that?” seungcheol asks, and jeonghan’s hand heats up where he just touched you. “you need me to let you go?”

“no, no, i was just getting my mail and bumped into my neighbor,” jeonghan lies easily, hoping cheol is gullible enough to buy it.

“big important guy like you i figure you’d have someone to do that for you,” cheol laughs, and jeonghan gives him a pity chuckle before bringing the conversation back to the matter at hand.

“so when’s your flight?”

“end of this week,” seungcheol sighs. “i’m not ready to leave yet, man. i’m gonna miss how beautiful everything is here.”

“life on this side of the world isn’t too bad,” jeonghan tells him.

“yeah sure, with all the mail you’ve been getting i bet it’s nice,” cheol teases, and jeonghan should’ve known his friend would see through him quickly.

“whatever,” jeonghan laughs. “just let me know when you’re in town and we’ll get dinner before the meeting.”

“you’re a classy man, yoon jeonghan,” cheol says, and jeonghan’s throat constricts ever so slightly. if only his friend knew who was in his bed right now, maybe cheol wouldn’t be so kind.

jeonghan tiredly trudges upstairs, ears perking up at the sound of music coming from the bedroom. he cracks the door to see you leaning against the copious amount of pillows, scrolling through your phone as you snack on the mango at your side. you look up at the sound of the door, smiling softly at jeonghan. you’re about to beckon him over, but he takes a deep breath and says, “i’ve got to tell you something.”

“oh,” you breathe out, a little worried about what it could be. you pat the spot next to you regardless, and jeonghan perches on the bed cautiously, almost like he doesn’t want to be close to you when he says what he has to say. you’re nervous for a moment, but the way he’s looking at you isn’t what you expected. he’s not about to tell you he did something wrong, he’s about to tell you something he’s afraid of.

“seungcheol is coming back,” he starts, and before you can even react he says, “he can’t know about us.”

“he-what?” you ask, and jeonghan reaches for your hands as he settles on the bed, trying to bring you closer as he explains, “he’s coming back to work at my company. i didn’t hire him, i swear. we apparently acquired whatever business he was running, so now he’ll be managing it under me. he called to tell me the good news. he’s coming back this friday. and he can’t know that we’re together.”

“why not?”

“because it’s...weird,” jeonghan says nervously.

“what about us is weird, jeonghan?” you ask, and he can tell he messed up.

“no, baby, that’s not what i mean,” he tries to backtrack. “i just. for a little while. it might be best for you to...not come around so often?”

“what, so i just stop coming to your work parties?” you ask, and jeonghan closes his eyes as your frustrations rise. “can’t come visit you on my days off? and when you invite people out after work for drinks, i assume he’ll come with you. so i’m just supposed to sit at home all the time now?”

“honey, i’m sorry,” he says softly, his eyes meeting yours and you can tell there’s a little bit of hurt there. “i just don’t know how we could explain this to him, and it’ll be hard enough getting him integrated into the company. i don’t want this to fail before it even starts, so, for now, he can’t know. but you’re still my number one, baby. i don’t know how you could ever think otherwise,” he says softly, brushing your hair behind your ears. you’re quiet as you think of how to respond, and you let jeonghan use his hand on your neck to guide you in for a tender kiss. against your lips he says, “i’m sorry.”

“don’t be sorry,” you sigh, leaning back in to kiss him again. “i’m proud of you for acquiring his company, that’s big,” jeonghan nods, “and i agree, it’d be too weird to explain. honestly i don’t know that i want to see him at all. but this means i’ll see less of you,” you pout, and with jeonghan’s hand still on your neck you feel his grip tighten.

“impossible,” he whispers, pecking your lips quickly before swiping his tongue over your bottom lip. “mm, you taste like mango.”

“yeah?”

“lemme taste something else,” he says with a smirk, and soon you’ve forgotten what he came in here to tell you in the first place.

a different version of you would’ve been upset that you could forget cheol so easily. for a long time, you thought he was the great love of your life. but if both of you would pick something else over each other so quickly, maybe your love wasn’t that great after all. you had settled into your life without seungcheol, so it makes sense that you forgot about his return so quickly.

for seungcheol though? he’s wondering if he should call you. at least let you know he’s gonna be back in town. he won’t say that he’s staying, he’ll open the conversation and see what you do with it. he just wants to see you, see how you’re doing. a selfish part of him wants you to see how well he’s doing too, and he thinks for a moment that he should get the gang back together and invite jeonghan. he decides against it only because he wants some time alone with you to apologize. if this goes well, then he can think about jeonghan coming along.

when cheol picks up his phone to call you, jeonghan is staring sappily into your eyes over dinner. you’ve had a rough week at work, so jeonghan insisted on comfort food at his favorite fancy place. he wanted to pamper you tonight, starting with giving you the shoes you’ve been salivating over for weeks now. he helped you get dressed and took his time kissing every inch of your skin that he could reach. now, over a plate of the most delicious pasta you’ve ever had, jeonghan is listening to you passionately talk about god knows what. he could listen to you talk like this for hours, but you stop mid-sentence and start looking for something.

“what’s wrong baby?” he asks, reluctantly letting your hand slip out of his so you can twist around in your chair.

“i’m looking for my phone, it’s ringing,” you mumble as you struggle to untangle your purse from the back of your chair.

“but baby,” he whines. “we’re on a date.”

“you know my mom usually calls me around this time,” you point out as you find your phone. “i at least need to check that it’s-”

“what?” jeonghan asks, noticing the confusion on your face. “not your mom?”

“no? it’s a weird number,” you say, showing him quickly. it looks familiar, and when jeonghan realizes why it’s too late. “hello?” you ask quietly, not wanting to be the annoying person on the phone in a public place, but curiosity got the best of you.

“y/n?” seungcheol asks, and your breath catches in your throat. “y/n? hello?”

“seungcheol, hi,” you respond, looking at jeonghan with your eyes wide. he sits back in his chair and groans, but the sound of the restaurant covers it up. “um, what’s up?”

“how are you?” cheol asks, and you give him a curt response. “listen, i can tell you’re out doing something, but i just wanted to let you know i’m coming back home. i mean, i’m leaving my job in europe and taking on a new role here. with jeonghan. kind of. it’s his company. whatever, i’m rambling, i just wanted to let you know-”

“hang up,” jeonghan mouths, and you shake your head, listening to cheol talk himself in circles a little more. jeonghan reaches across the table and tugs on your arm but you swat him away, whispering a fierce warning to stop.

“sorry, seungcheol, um, that sounds like a great opportunity,” you tell him once he’s finished up. “t-tell jeonghan i say hi. and good luck with everything, really.” you hate to rush him off the phone like this, but the way jeonghan is staring at you has your stomach doing flips. there’s no way cheol can be onto you so soon, but you tried your best to keep him off the scent. you just hope it works. “it was nice hearing from you, bye cheol!”

“yeah, sure,” he says suspiciously, looking at his phone to confirm that you did in fact hang up on him. your response was weird, awkward, which is understandable. but the weird part is that you completely ignored his invitation to meet for lunch. you sounded distracted, so maybe you didn’t hear him. maybe you didn’t want to see him at all. or maybe you were out with someone who wouldn’t like their girlfriend making plans with some random guy. whatever it is, cheol is onto you, but what keeps him content is that he knows your paths will cross again soon, planned or not.

jeonghan was quiet after you hung up, mostly playing with the food on his plate as you watched him. you tapped his foot with your own beneath the table, skirting it up toward his calf when he doesn’t respond. you feel a warm hand grab your ankle, and jeonghan’s eyes are staring at you sternly as he asks, “why did you answer it?”

“i was curious.”

“but i told you not to answer it. then i told you to hang up, and you didn’t listen.”

“it’s my phone?” you say incredulously. “i’ll answer it if i want to.”

“but it was seungcheol,” jeonghan says. “he could figure out what’s going on.”

“why are you so insistent on cheol not knowing about us?” you ask. “like, i get not wanting to hurt his feelings. but he’s not here right now, and you’re being kind of a dick.”

“baby, i’m sorry,” he sighs. “i’m just afraid of you getting hurt.”

“me?”

“you and cheol have a lot of history,” jeonghan says carefully. “i guess i was trying to protect you from being around him and, i don’t know, getting upset over what happened. that you’re not with him anymore.”

“how could i ever be upset when i have you taking care of me?” you ask softly, looking for jeonghan’s hand so you can squeeze it assuringly as you say, “baby, yes, cheol and i have history. but you’re my now and my future as long as you don’t break me during sex some day.”

“got it,” he finally laughs, taking a deep breath. “sorry for being weird about it.”

“it’s ok,” you tell him. “you being possessive like that was a little hot.”

“down girl,” he teases, squeezing your hand now. “we’ve got two more courses here before we can leave.”

“have i mentioned how much i love this food, by the way?” you ask, and that sends you both into an easy conversation about food and how you want to do a pasta making date night. jeonghan takes his phone out to make a reminder for himself to find the best class in the city, and he sees a message that makes his heart stop. it’s from seungcheol, short and sweet.

“we need to talk,” it says. jeonghan locks his phone then, putting on a smile to cover up the way he just started to sweat.

you and jeonghan enjoy a sweet weekend together, having two blessed days where you don’t go anywhere. saturday is spent mostly sleeping, only leaving your bed for necessities and to find another book when you finish your first one. as you’re scanning the bookshelves jeonghan put up in his room just for you, he admires the way his old dress shirt hangs off of you. he doesn’t know why you insist on sleeping in his old clothes, but it warms his heart nonetheless. he loves that you don’t wear much underneath, so it’s not hard for him to pull you in for a hug just for his hand to brush you in places that send goosebumps across your skin. he wants you to hurry up and pick a book so you’ll come back to bed, his hands itching to skirt across your waist and pull you into his chest.

he knows you’re both serious about each other. like you, he knows this is love without it being spoken. but he almost said it this morning, it almost slipped off his tongue as he woke up to the sound of clinking coffee mugs. he smiled sleepily at you as you placed his on his nightstand, grabbing your now free hand to kiss your palm and each of your fingertips. you claimed the warmth of the coffee in this heat is what caused your cheeks to flare up, but jeonghan knows better. he watched you proudly as you shuffled to your side of the bed, all of a sudden very happy that you’re here, his, and living in this space with him.

you take a delicate sip of your coffee before you crawl back under the covers, and jeonghan admires the way you relish the taste, eyes closing slightly and a content smile on your lips as you finally rejoin him in bed. you yelp as he pulls you closer, hooking an arm around you so that you’re laying against his chest with his lips at the crown of your head. he thinks about saying it then, those three words, but your polite “let go of me, you freak” shakes him out of his thoughts, chuckling as he loosens his grasp so you can grab your book and then lay back down in his arms. you hold the book so that he can read along with you if he wants, but he’s still tired, so instead he lets himself drift off as you speed through the pages.

when you finish your book, your first instinct is to get up and replace it on the shelf it came from. jeonghan always scolds you for keeping a messy nightstand, so you try to get in the habit of returning finished books as quickly as possible, but when you turn to look at the man in question you coo and decide that admiring your sleeping angel of a boyfriend is the better option. you reach out a hand to trace his eyebrows, down the soft slope of his nose, ending at his mouth. you press a kiss to your fingers and trace the outline of his lips, giggling when his top lip twitches at your touch. you love his lips, love the way they feel against your skin, the way they stretch across jeonghan’s perfect smile when he tells you something cheeky. you lose yourself for a moment as you play with them, maybe flicking your thumb over his plump bottom lip too hard because next thing you know there’s two strong arms holding you captive. jeonghan peeks an eye open at you, sheepish smile on your face as he asks, “what the hell are you doing?”

“playing with your lips,” you reply easily. “they’re my favorite toy.”

“oh these?” he asks, pouting his lips as he feigns going cross eyed to stare at them. he loves to make you laugh, the sound breaking him from his silly expression and into a fit of giggles similar to yours. you press your forehead to his as you calm down, your breaths mingling together as they steady out into the same inhales and exhales. “i really like waking up next to you,” jeonghan admits quietly. you look up to make sure he sees your eyes as you respond, “it’s kinda my favorite thing now, so i’m glad you like it. even when i have morning breath.”

“good thing you drink coffee like an addict,” jeonghan teases, tickling your nose with a strand of your hair. “because right now i’m just getting cafe bustelo and brown sugar.”

“mm,” you hum, “i want another coffee,” you say as you try to get up, but jeonghan’s vice grip stops you.

“kiss first,” he says sternly, and you feel your cheeks warm as you lean back down to press your lips into his. he deepens the kiss briefly, letting you pull away to say, “hm, you taste like brown sugar too.”

“and you taste like cinnamon,” you smile, loving that spending so much time with you has turned jeonghan onto your favorite coffee recipes. “now let me go and i’ll make you a new one.”

“fine,” he sighs dramatically. “but come back quick.”

“you’re clingy today,” you notice, and you look at him fully. “is everything ok?”

“yeah honey,” he smiles, but there’s a hesitation there. “i just..you know i’m yours right?”

“of course i do hannie,” you smile back, and he nods. “anything else?”

“if i’m yours, you know that means you’re mine,” he smirks, and you nod again. “no complaints?”

“hm, you could do laundry a little more often-” you start to joke, but a pillow comes flying for your head. with a laugh you reach out for jeonghan’s leg under the covers, giving it a reassuring squeeze as you ask, “are you sure everything’s good? this is weirding me out.”

“i’m good,” he shrugs. “wanted to be sure.”

you watch him closely, but you decide there’s nothing further to discuss. you reach for his coffee mug and he passes it to you, only jerking it back once or twice when you reach for it. once you start pouting he gives in, handing it over with ease. you’re gone and back within a few minutes, two new drinks in your hands, but jeonghan’s eyes are closed again so you place his drink down before kissing his forehead lightly. you put your drink down and finally return your book, looking for your next victim. when you lay back down you stick to your side of the bed, not wanting to bother jeonghan. you’re obviously unaware that he was watching you the entire time you searched for a new book, but once you’re settled with the amount of pillow to back ratio you hear him mumble something into the blankets. you lean closer and ask him to repeat, and you hear a soft, “will you read to me?”

he’s never asked you to do this before, and you’re not sure how romantic it will be to read a thriller novel to your boyfriend, but you do it anyway. something’s gotten into jeonghan, you’re not sure what, but something’s on his mind. you’ll let him come to you about it, but even as you read the book out loud you barely process the words. you’re just worried about the change in jeonghan over the past few days, and you think you know what, or who, the culprit is.

jeonghan had to welcome cheol into the office next week. he’s starting this week transitioning back to life at home, then he’s coming in closer to the weekend to finish up his paperwork. he starts next monday, and jeonghan has promised him dinner one night this week. he does this with any of his new employees, no matter their status. he takes them out for a meal, gets to know them, makes them feel welcome as part of the company, and everyone loves him for it. it’s why so many people fight to get the chance to work for him, and it’s also the reason why nobody wants to leave once they do. jeonghan takes care of his people. he defends them, wants the best for them, and can mediate any problem no matter how big or small. he’s the perfect boss, the perfect boyfriend, he’s just...perfect.

but lately, he’s been having doubts. he’s been doubting himself, his relationship with you. he won’t admit it, but he’s afraid of you seeing cheol after all this time and wanting to go back to him. he never understood how you two could split so easily, so his biggest fear is that whatever feelings may be laying dormant will come back with a vengeance the moment you and seungcheol are back in a room together. that’s why he tries to talk about him as little as possible despite being on the phone with him all the time. seungcheol is a hard worker, so he’s already got questions for jeonghan, clients to bring over, applicants to interview for his assistant. jeonghan admires the tenacity, but he’s walking on eggshells around you so the topic of cheol never comes up. that becomes nearly impossible when seungcheol reminds jeonghan of their promised meal together, and jeonghan tries to pick a night when he knows you’ll be tired and therefore fine with him going out.

he decides on tuesday night for dinner with cheol, and everything seems fine at first. you’ve got to go into the office early for a slew of back to back meetings, so you assure jeonghan you’ll be exhausted when you’re done. whatever “company thing” he has to do tonight can be done solo, and you tell him you’ll be expecting a kiss when he gets home, even if you’re asleep. he takes a slight breath of relief and promises he’ll be sweet to you when he gets back, pleased that it seems the topic he’s avoiding won’t have to come up at all.

tuesday comes, and you were fine with going home to no jeonghan, but as your day dragged on you realized there was no way you’ll be leaving on time. thing after thing keeps getting dumped on you until you’re on the verge of a freak out, and you text jeonghan to get some clarity. you tell him your day’s been awful, you’ll be home late, the usual, and he doesn’t respond. you’re so busy you don’t even have time to be upset about that, because as soon as you put your phone down you’re getting an email that almost makes you cry frustrated tears. you work on though, the only thing getting you through is the idea of falling into jeonghan’s arms as soon as you walk through the door.

jeonghan didn’t respond to you because seungcheol ended up coming into the office today, eager to set up his office and get straight to work next week. it was a surprise for sure, seeing his friend after so long, but thankfully they fell back into their usual rapport once the awkward pleasantries were over with. jeonghan had been busy helping seungcheol organize his desk, explaining some of the more important files that seungkwan had already placed in cheol’s office for him to review. jeonghan was trying to save some of the business talk for their dinner tonight, but they ended up having a working lunch instead, jeonghan divulging all of the things he’s needed his best friend for in their time apart.

“shit, is that the time?” cheol asks as he checks his watch. jeonghan looks at his phone then, seeing messages from you and wishing he could answer immediately. he’ll wait until he’s back in his office just to be safe. “i took up your whole day, i’m sorry.”

“no worries,” jeonghan waves him off. “it was nice catching up. it’s gonna be good having you here.”

“i’m really excited to get started,” cheol says.

“no shit, couldn’t tell,” jeonghan laughs. “but we’ve basically gone through everything i was planning to say at dinner. welcome to the team, this is the company culture, stay on top of your tasks, blah blah. come to me if you ever need anything, and uh, don’t drink the hazelnut coffee in the break room. it’s disgusting.”

“got it,” cheol nods. “i can’t believe i kept you here this long, if you need to leave, we can forget dinner.”

“no, i have time,” jeonghan thinks for a moment. “i should at least take you to this whiskey bar down the block, i think you’d like it. i do a lot of client meetings there.”

“sure, let’s go!”

the bar ended up being closed. who knew tuesday was a slow day for whiskey, because apparently it’s always closed on tuesdays and jeonghan had no clue. he feels bad that he’s not giving cheol the promised welcome meal or a nice drink on the company’s dime, so when seungcheol asks to see jeonghan’s place he has a hard time saying no.

“i’m sure you’ve got a great home bar,” cheol says, “and i’d love to see your place. if that’s ok, of course.”

“um, let me just-”

“check with your girlfriend first?” cheol asks, and jeonghan stops cold. he tries to play it off, shaking his head with an excuse on his lips, but when jeonghan looks up at him there’s a knowing look in his eyes. “you don’t have to hide it. i knew there was always a reason you sound distracted on the phone. just didn’t know sly yoon jeonghan could be held down by anybody.”

“haha, yeah, it’s a miracle,” jeonghan laughs nervously. “but, um, no, i don’t need to check with anybody. i was just. yeah, sure, yeah, we can have a drink at my place. but i need to make it quick, sorry,” he starts to lie, “my meeting with london tomorrow just got pushed to the ass crack of dawn, so it’ll be an early night for me.”

“just one drink,” cheol nods, clapping his hand on jeonghan’s back. “send me your address. you want me to bring flowers as a housewarming gift, or is that too much?”

when you’re finally leaving work, it’s about three hours later than normal. you took a break to eat dinner, so that added to your time, knowing that jeonghan would have a hissy fit if he knew you worked late and didn’t eat. your meal added on to your time, but it definitely didn’t diminish the amount of work you had to do. by the time you get back to your apartment, you’re tired, you’re frustrated, and those tears from earlier are creeping back again. you text jeonghan when you’re close by, and again when you get into the lobby and ask if he picked up the package that came. nothing all day, and now suddenly he can’t seem to respond quick enough.

“wait for me outside,” the text reads, which you think is odd, but whatever. you check the mailroom anyway, shuffling along on autopilot as jeonghan loses his mind upstairs.

why? because cheol is still here. jeonghan forgot how easy it was for drunk cheol to go off on tangents, and he’s in the middle of one now that doesn’t seem like it’ll slow down in time for jeonghan to shoo him out the door without running into you. he’s trying to run through each solution when he hears your key in the lock, stopping cheol mid-sentence so he can smirk and say, “guess the lady of the house is home?”

jeonghan shoots up to intercept you, trying to stop the door from pushing open too much to reveal you to cheol or vice versa. but he’s too late. he can tell by the shock in your eyes, followed quickly by tears. you duck back out into the hallway and he follows, closing the door behind him and praying to god that cheol stays put.

“baby, baby what’s wrong?” jeonghan asks, holding your hands to his chest as you try to calm down. your lip trembles as you explain, “i just had the worst day at work, i’m so tired of this job, i’m exhausted and frustrated and i wanted to come home to you and i was already about to cry but then he’s in there-wait, why is he in our house, hannie?” you ask, a bit of understandable anger in your voice. “i thought he couldn’t know about us,” you all but spit out, and jeonghan lets his head hang as he explains.

“i thought i’d be able to get him in and out before you got back,” he starts out. “i’m sorry i didn’t respond to you all day, but everything got away from me, and the place i was going to take cheol was closed, and he asked to see the apartment and i couldn’t really say no.”

“well get him out of there,” you hiss. “i can’t handle this right now.”

“handle what?” jeonghan asks, and you groan at the jealousy in his voice.

“hannie!” you whine. “you know what i mean. i was trying not to cry all the way home and now there’s a man in our house and i have to cry in the hallway. my day can’t get any worse.”

“i’m sorry,” jeonghan says. “i’m sorry. i’ll get him out. but...”

“what?” you groan, and jeonghan looks at you shamefaced.

“baby, if you don’t want to see him you’ll have to hide in the lobby or something. otherwise i bring you back inside and you have to address him there, or you stay out here and see him then.”

“i can’t just hide behind you?” you ask quietly, and he shakes his head. “‘fraid not, my love.”

“you’re in the shit, yoon jeonghan,” you say with an accusing finger under his chin. “you owe me.”

“you know i’ll make it up to you,” he whispers, dipping down to give you a chaste kiss. he leads you back to your door, pushing it open and clearing his throat when he sees cheol sitting with his head almost between his knees on the couch. “seungcheol, i can explain.”

“i don’t want to hear a word,” he says, standing up to get in jeonghan’s face. “some friend you are. how could you not tell me?”

“i’m sorry, i-”

“leave him alone,” you pipe up, and cheol’s anger turns to you briefly. once he looks at you, really looks at you, it all fades away and a soft ache replaces it. “seungcheol i think you should leave.”

“but-”

“you’re a guest in our home, and you’ve overstayed your welcome,” you hold your ground, but still don’t make eye contact with him. it’s comical, actually. you really are hiding behind jeonghan as you watch cheol leave.

“i can’t believe this,” he scoffs, gathering his things and pressing past you both. he looks back at you passingly as you close the door in his face, and your heart stirs in a way you don’t understand. the way cheol was looking at you burns into the backs of your eyelids, and you shake your head to get rid of it. jeonghan’s soft lips on your neck pull you back to reality, and he falls into another round of apologies. you turn around in his grasp, resting your head against his neck before you say, “jeonghan, it’s alright. let’s just go to bed.”

it’s safe to say that seungcheol is pissed. what’s infuriating about it though, at work he acts like nothing’s wrong. in meetings, through emails, on conference calls, cheol is the perfect associate. in the hallways though? the elevator? the break room? jeonghan feels ice shooting daggers through cheol’s gaze whenever their paths cross. he needs a chance to explain, but cheol won’t give it to him. he’s hurt that his friend would do this to him and keep it a secret, but what hurts just as much is that you’d date his best friend, hell, you’ve moved in with him, and cheol had no clue. from either of you. it’s hard to process that two people who were once so important to him could betray him like this, and with each other. he’s content to keep his relationship with jeonghan completely professional, hopeful that if he plays his cards right he’ll never have to be around you for extended periods of time.

the first test of that comes this friday with a company celebration for the acquisition of so many new accounts, cheol’s included. he has to go, and he knows you’ll be there a majority of the night. he’s ready to dodge and weave, staying on alert for where you are at all times. but the moment he lets his guard down, you’re at his side, ordering a drink at the bar. you didn’t notice it was cheol or else you never would’ve approached, but jeonghan has been talking to some creepy accountant for so long you needed an out. cheol glances to the side and sees two glasses in your hands, sadly meeting your eyes as he acknowledges that one of them must be for jeonghan. you open your mouth to say something, but he’s disappeared into the crowd before you can even say hello.

you get back to jeonghan to find him typing on his phone, and a quick peek tells you that he’s asking seungkwan to remove said creepy accountant from the premises. you smile as you hand him his drink, putting your hand under his chin so you can steady yourself to kiss his cheek. he lets you once, but then he turns so he can steal a kiss before you realize what’s happening. it makes you laugh, and the sound rings out across the corner of the room.

“shh, baby,” jeonghan laughs. “can’t let everyone here know you’re having a better time than they are.”

“it’s a nice party though,” you tell him. “they should all be enjoying it.”

“i hope so,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to hold back the strands that have fallen out of place, only for them to drape back over his face softly.

“you look sexy, by the way.”

“do i?” he smiles, and you nod, kissing his cheek again. he uses this as a chance to whisper in your ear, “and you’re stunning as always. i can’t keep my eyes off of you.”

“hannie stop,” you giggle, letting your face heat up as you pull away from him again. he drapes an arm around you now, pulling you into his side as he turns to face the rest of the room. with his lips closely pressed to your hairline he whispers something else that makes your skin erupt in goosebumps.

“i’m not the only one who can’t stop staring,” jeonghan says, turning you until you’re facing seungcheol from across the room. he’s right, cheol’s eyes are locked in on you and jeonghan. weird, considering he couldn’t get away from you fast enough earlier. even now his gaze holds strong, and you feel your blush deepen, this time from embarrassment and something more. “he’s been watching you all night.”

“stop,” you repeat, and jeonghan chuckles so lowly that you feel the sound rumble in your own chest pressed next to his. “he’s angry.”

“you think so?” jeonghan asks, his own gaze following yours to stare at cheol. “think we should talk to him?”

“actually, i do,” you say, breaking the stare down to look up at jeonghan. “or at least i should. you’re a good man, hannie, but i’m afraid you’d both get so cocky you wouldn’t be able to get through to him.”

“you think that’s a good idea?” he asks with a touch of warning in his voice. “he’s been hard to get through to all week-”

“and maybe if i talk to him, i can fix that,” you reply. then, quieter, almost like you don’t want to admit it to yourself, you ask, “come on, don’t you miss him?”

either you’re right and jeonghan does miss his best friend, or he’s scared to acknowledge that you might miss him too. regardless he nods and loosens his grip so you can step away. cheol watched that whole exchange, so he sees you coming. when you get close he tries to hide, but you don’t care, you call out his name loud enough for the partygoers around you to part like the sea just to get you through to him faster.

“cheol, hi,” you say with a shy smile once you’re close enough to speak at a normal volume. “um, i didn’t get to say anything earlier at the bar, so i’m sorry i yelled just now.”

“no worries,” he says curtly.

“i just..wanted to get your attention,” you continue, watching him unsure. “i want to talk, if that’s ok.”

“i don’t wanna hear it,” he replies, and he’s about to turn away but you place a delicate hand on his arm, squeezing lightly as you say, “no, really. we need to talk.”

you can feel jeonghan’s eyes on you as you lead cheol out to the balcony, major deja vu to the first night you and jeonghan became something. crazy how things come full circle, you think. you catch jeonghan’s eyes from across the room and nod at him, but his face is unmoving, watching you apprehensively with something close to worry in his eyes.

out on the balcony, cheol tries to keep as much space between you as possible. you tried joining him at the railing but he slid away childishly, and then when you took another step in his direction he moved to the chairs like he was going to sit down. you can tell there’s nervous energy behind his dark brown eyes, so you let him scramble for a minute before calling his name.

“cheollie,” you whisper so softly that the wind almost takes it away. the sound of his nickname falling from your lips stops him cold, his sad eyes looking up at you as you begin to explain. “none of this is what it looks like.”

“you sure about that?” he scoffs, finally sitting down at one of the chairs in front of you. you remain standing, leaning against the railing, and you can see the flash of jeonghan’s suit through the windows. was he listening?

“jeonghan and i started dating a few months ago, after he moved back home. we hadn’t even talked since you and i...broke up..but we were at the same party, and we started hanging out-”

“i don’t need to hear that,” cheol says dismissively. “i need to hear you and jeonghan apologize for not telling me. my two best friends. the two people i used to be closer to than anybody else, leaving me for each other?”

“that’s not what happened though,” you whine.

“y/n please,” he rolls his eyes.

“no, seungcheol, you’re not listening to me,” you say sternly, crossing your arms over your chest for good measure. it’s just a bonus that it makes your dress shift ever so slightly, showing the lacy edge of your bra underneath. cheol’s eyes are shamelessly on your chest as you go on. “jeonghan and i never did anything to betray you, other than choosing what was better for our lives, our careers, in the long run. if i remember correctly, you had a couple choices to make too, and i think you chose exactly the same thing. so whatever butt hurt feelings you have? get over it. we’re all here now. you and hannie need to work together, so put your big boy pants on and work. that also requires you to at least say hi to me when i see you at these events.” you take a breath before you go on. “i know it may not be easy..but it’s what we all have to do. got it?”

“yes ma’am,” cheol nods, standing and crossing over to you. he moves so that he’s barely caging you in, making sure you can’t leave as he says, “but just know. i’ll be mature about this. i’ll be the best god damn employee here, and i’ll treat you like a queen if that’s what it takes to make you stop pouting. but you and i both know we belong together.” he pauses so he can try to read your face, continuing with his dark eyes staring you down. “so know that every day i come into work. every fancy party i’m at. all i’m going to be thinking about is you.”

“cheol, i-” your voice is cut off by the sound of the balcony door opening, and your heart stops until you see vernon, seungcheol’s assistant, poking his head outside.

“hey, you’re missing the toast,” he tells cheol, who hasn’t turned around at all. he nods and says he’ll be there soon, vernon stepping back into the party unnoticed. cheol holds your gaze a moment longer before finally turning away.

“it was nice talking to you, y/n,” he says once he reaches the door. he sends you a wink before slipping through the door. “hopefully i’ll see you again very soon.”

you can’t stop thinking about what cheol said out on the balcony. you rejoin the party a few moments after him, sticking to the back as you listen to jeonghan lead the toasts to all their new employees, a brighter future, his usual charming boss speeches that everyone just eats up. you’re pressing your fingers to your lips, thoughts flooding through your head, when you hear your name called out and suddenly feel a roomful of eyes on you.

“and personally i just want to thank my rock, y/n, for being my voice of reason,” jeonghan says. “you’d be surprised how many of the important decisions i make here are actually because of her, so i’d like to raise a toast to her and all the other unspoken heroes of our company-” as he continues on, everyone’s focus shifts, but you feel one set of eyes still on you. you turn and find cheol, staring at you knowingly with a champagne flute in his hand. he tilts it toward you with a wink before swigging it down in one gulp, and you turn away when you catch yourself admiring his jawline. when curiosity gets the best of you and you look back, he’s gone.

once the event is over, you go back to jeonghan’s office to wait for him to politely talk to people until they get the hint that they need to leave. jeonghan says this is the reason he has a couch in his office, so you have somewhere comfortable to wait for him after parties, but really he got it because he doesn’t always want to fuck on his desk. you wonder if tonight will be one of those nights, but you think that question is answered when jeonghan walks through the door and collapses on top of you in exhaustion. you wrap your arms around him, a hand instantly falling to the back of his head so you can play with his hair. he hums into your neck, placing a single kiss on your skin before his breathing evens out. you lay like this for a while, content to stay like this all night, but you know you need to tell him about cheol.

“hannie,” you whisper, and his lack of a response makes you think he’s actually asleep. you push him up by the forehead, giggling when he looks at you confused and mumbles, “what.”

“hey cutie,” you whisper, kissing his forehead. “get up, you’re crushing me.”

“deal with it.”

“jeonghan, seriously,” you say, and he finally lifts himself up, staring at you expectantly. “i need to tell you about cheol.”

“tell me tomorrow,” he says before falling back onto your chest. “don’t feel like getting pissed off right now.”

“you’re both annoying,” you grumble, and that gets his attention.

“he was annoying?” he asks, his cheek still pressed against your chest. you can feel his warm skin on yours, and his cheek is pushed up so that his face is smushed. it’s cute, but you can’t get distracted. “tell me more.”

“he’s mad,” you start, “so i was right-”

“you’re always right-”

“don’t be a kiss ass,” you say sternly, and jeonghan chuckles. “what?”

“now i’m just thinking about your ass,” he says with a cheeky smile, peeking an eye open at you.

“jeonghan!” you whine. “can you please take this seriously! i tried talking to cheol about us, about all of us being mature about this, and he was really...he made it seem like..”

“like what?” jeonghan asks, sitting up suddenly. “he made it seem like what, y/n?”

“like he wasn’t over me,” you whisper, and jeonghan sees red for a moment. “he didn’t try anything. he didn’t want to be anywhere near me, n-not that i tried getting close to him! but like, i tried talking to him at the railing and he ran away, and then i could tell he was staring at my chest and he was like, super vague but still upset, and he said something about us being meant for each other and i just-”

“do you agree with him?” jeonghan asks, and you stop. “do you think you’re meant for each other?”

“hannie, i...he’s upset,” you reply, not giving him the response he wants. “he didn’t want to hear me explain anything, but he’s obviously hurt. he said he was going to change his attitude at work, but i don’t think this helped as much as i thought it would.”

“he’s the most stubborn man in the world, y/n.”

“oh so that explains why you two used to get along,” you tease, running a hand through jeonghan’s hair. your hand settles at the back of his head as you say, “i’m happy with you, hannie. you make me feel like the special-est girl ever. don’t look at me like you’re worried.”

“i’m not worried about you,” he says, turning so he can press soft kisses onto your wrist. “i’m worried about him.”

“whatever,” you shrug. “cheol is gonna be cheol. this will get easier with time.”

“hm,” he hums, lips still against your wrist. “speaking of time, how late is it?”

“late,” you reply. “we should go.”

“late?” he laughs. “that’s not a time baby.”

“i don’t have a watch,” you shrug. “and someone is laying on me, so i can’t reach my phone.”

“should i buy you a watch?” jeonghan asks, that glint in his eyes whenever he’s ready to spoil you. “maybe we should get matching ones.”

“minnie and mickey mouse?” you suggest, and he laughs.

“we’ll go shopping this weekend,” he promises before he hoists himself up, pulling you with him. “let’s go home now baby.”

it’s been a few days since the party, and you haven’t stopped thinking about cheol. it’s really bothering you, but you don’t want to bring it up to jeonghan again because you know it’ll just upset him. you’re thinking about what you should do as you make dinner tonight. you were able to come home early, excited to surprise jeonghan after such a stressful couple of days. he hasn’t said much about cheol, only that he’s been keeping to himself while still getting his work done. you figure this is how it should be, cheol doing his job and leaving the two of you alone, but there’s just a sliver of your heart that wants more. you’re thinking about it as jeonghan walks through the door, calling out your name before following the smell of food into the kitchen.

“is it my birthday or something?” he asks with a happy smile on his face.

“hm, no?” you think for a second. “just wanted to do something nice for you.”

“you’re an angel,” he says as he walks over to join you, his arms wrapping around your waist and head falling to the crook of your neck. “you have perfect timing too, my day sucked.”

“aw hannie,” you try to turn around in his arms, wanting to watch him as he explains what went wrong, but he holds your waist firmly so you won’t move.

“keep cooking,” he whispers into your neck, kissing at the spot behind your ear that sends a chill down your spine. “let me blow off some steam before dinner. just tell me when it’s too much, got it baby?” you nod, but you hear jeonghan grumble, “use your words y/n.”

“got it,” you whisper out, and you feel jeonghan smile against your skin. he keeps kissing up and down your neck, moving your hair out of the way so he can kiss right where your neck and shoulder meet. you feel his tongue against your skin and then the sharp pang of teeth, jeonghan working on marking your neck. you let him work, trying to focus on not burning the food, but he’s making it incredibly difficult.

“turn the heat down baby,” he advises you, noticing your lack of attention. “don’t want you to ruin dinner because you were distracted.” you do, your breath shaky when jeonghan’s hand slips from your waist to cup your pussy through your shorts. your breathes start coming in little gasps as he gives you the least amount of pressure possible. you groan frustrated, and he chuckles against your neck. “impatient baby.”

“i’m almost done cooking, hannie,” you tell him. “hurry up.”

“turn the stove off then,” jeonghan rasps out. “we’re staying right here.” his hand slips to the edge of your shorts, his fingers pushing the fabric of your shorts and panties aside to feel the arousal pooling at your core. “you don’t want me to stop, do you?”

“n-no.”

“no what?”

“no sir.”

“good girl,” he whispers, nipping at your ear as his fingers dip to your core. he loves feeling you falling apart on his fingers, you’d think you’d be used to this by now. but feeling him sink two fingers into your core has you shaking in his hold, grabbing onto his arm for leverage. you try grinding down into him, wanting more, but jeonghan is ever patient and ignores your attempts to feel more. he takes it slow, dragging his fingers in and out at an excruciating pace. it’s not enough, so your mind starts to wander to other times jeonghan has had his way with you in the kitchen, folding you over the counter, kneeling between your legs as you cook, and you jolt as your mind starts conjuring up images of cheol doing the same. your eyes fly open, jeonghan so tuned into your reactions that he chuckles as he whispers, “feel good baby?” and your heart starts to race. he doesn’t know. he can’t read your thoughts, so he doesn’t know what you were just imagining. but you feel...wrong. you feel like you’re doing something forbidden, not allowed, as you let jeonghan work you toward your high with thoughts of cheol still flashing through your mind.

“i’m c-close hannie,” you breathe out, trying to anchor yourself in this moment. you feel him biting your neck again, leaving another hickey you’re not sure you’ll be able to cover up.

“let me hear you then,” he says, fingers finally working faster, trying to make you come. you moan freely, feeling jeonghan’s hard cock pressing into you from behind. your eyes start to roll back as you come, letting out a soft moan, “oh, cheol-”

jeonghan stops.

all the air leaves your lungs, and you gasp as you try to cover, but jeonghan shushes you, arms tightening around your body as his lips graze your ear. “what did you just say?”

“n-nothing-”

“don’t lie to me,” he whispers. “what. did. you. say.”

“i-i said ch-cheol,” you stutter, jeonghan’s fingers still inside you, feeling the way your walls clench around him as you mention he who must not be named. “hannie, please, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to, i-”

“should i call him?” jeonghan asks, and you hate the way your body reacts to the idea. “let him hear you moaning so pretty for him while i’m playing with your pussy? or should we skip that and just invite him over here to fuck you?” he asks, hands pulling from you so he can turn you around and cage you in against the counter. he gets closer, eyes angry and a little turned on as he asks, “you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“hannie, no, i want you, need you,” you say, afraid to touch him as his hands work at his belt. he’s got his cock out in record time, lazily stroking it as he watches you.

“you want me, you need me, but you want him too, don’t you?” he asks, and you could cry at how frustrated you are right now. you let jeonghan lift you onto the counter, spreading your legs as he pulls your clothes to the side. he taps his cock over your clit, reveling in the way you whine for him. “come on baby, talk to me. told you to use your words.”

“i-i don’t want cheol,” you say shakily. “i want you, jeonghan.” that’s all he needed to hear, slamming his cock into you as you let out a choked sob. he’s relentless, fucking you so fast you’re not sure how you’re going to hold out. instantly his thumb is rubbing over your clit, wanting to make you come as fast as possible. considering how close you were, he doesn’t wait long, a scream of his name ripping through your chest as you release around him, but he doesn’t stop. proudly, he smiles as he fucks into you, watching your pussy swallow his cock as he says, “what do you think cheol would do if he was here right now?”

“jeonghan-”

“answer me,” he says, eyes finding yours and holding your gaze. you can see the way his pupils are blown out, lust taking over him, and you realize with a gasp that he’s enjoying this. he’s mad, sure, but this is turning him on. the thought has you clenching around him hard, and he smiles evilly before he goes on. “you think he’d want your mouth? or would he want your pussy?”

“b-both,” you stutter out, jerking in jeonghan’s hold as you get closer again. “he’d want both.”

“hm, greedy. just like you,” jeonghan tuts, bringing his thumb up to your lips before asking you to suck, you hold onto his wrist, steadying yourself as you suck on his thumb while he fucks you, and you can’t believe you’re about to come again. “hold on honey. wait for me.”

“jeonghan i can’t-”

“you will,” he says sternly, switching his pace so he’s thrusting into you so deep you feel like he’s going to split you open. your pussy keeps clenching down on him, making it hard to move, and when he looks up and sees you with his thumb still hanging from your mouth he groans, holding your chin as he watches you slowly unravel. he admires the way your eyes flutter first, then your jaw goes slack, whimpering as he thrusts into you to help you come. your body starts to shake and he can feel you spasming around his cock, his hips jerking as he starts coming deep inside you. he thrusts lazily until you’re both spent, your sensitive body jerking at every movement. he finally pulls out, moaning as he watches his come spill out of you. he looks up at you with an evil smirk, asking, “should i send a picture to seungcheol?”

“jeonghan, i’m sorry,” you sigh again, head falling to his shoulder. “that didn’t mean anything, it just came out.”

“but why did it come out?” he laughs nervously, stroking your hair as you latch onto him. with your arms firmly around his shoulders, you wrap your legs around his waist and he carries you into the living room. then he sits down with you in his lap, looking up at you softly as he asks. “what were you thinking about in that pretty head of yours?”

“i was thinking about you,” you start honestly. “and how you love fucking in our kitchen, for some reason-”

“i just love fucking you,” he admits as he plays with the strands of your hair falling over your shoulder. “so you were thinking about me and that made you moan cheol’s name?”

“no, i um,” you clear your throat. “i don’t know. he’s just. it’s been on my mind a lot lately, i guess. so my mind wandered. it just came out,” you say earnestly, cupping jeonghan’s face, “i’m so sorry.”

“don’t be,” he shrugs, a sad little smile on his face. your thumbs rub over his cheeks as he stares at you, and he opens his mouth to say something but stops.

“what?” you ask, knowing there’s something else on his mind. “say something baby.”

“you’re not over him,” he says sadly, and you feel tears in your eyes as you shake your head. “you’re not, and that’s ok.”

“but hannie, i love you i don’t know why i can’t-”

“you love me?” jeonghan asks, and you stiffen. you’ve never said that to him before, and this is how your stupid brain lets it come out?

“i do,” you whisper, “i love you so much, yoon jeonghan.”

“but you love cheol too,” he says quietly, and you nod.

“i think i still love him,” you admit. “but i don’t understand why, because i know i love you.”

“well,” jeonghan sighs, hands snaking around your waist again. “for what it’s worth, i know i love you too.”

“really?” you sniff, and he presses a soft kiss to your nose.

“i’ve known it for a while, actually,” he tells you.

“you love me,” you smile.

“and you love me,” he nods.

“i’m sorry,” you pout again, and he shakes his head.

“don’t be. you love me right?”

“i do,” you nod, kissing his chin as you wrap your arms around him.

“then that’s all that matters,” jeonghan says quietly, and you sit together like that, wrapped in each others arms, minds racing.

this isn’t how you wanted to tell him. you wanted the moment to be right, your confession of love needing to be special because jeonghan is special. he means so much to you. you haven’t felt this kind of love since..well, since cheol. jeonghan treats you like royalty and you want to treat him the same, so you’re torn at the thought of not being able to love him fully. but as you’re struggling to accept this, jeonghan has one thing running through his brain.

he needs to talk to seungcheol. now.

the next few days with jeonghan are insanely soft. you’re not sure if it’s because both of you let your feelings be known, or if it’s both of you trying to cover up the other feelings that were revealed a couple nights ago. either way, you’ve been in heaven. the rest of the work week flew by, both of you taking turns making each other’s favorite meals and then cuddling on the couch, not wanting to be far from each other for more than a few minutes. it’s like the early days of your relationship all over again, and you love it.

jeonghan was serious when he said he was going to buy you a watch though, so he takes you shopping first thing saturday morning. you whine at him not wanting to sleep in, but he makes a good point that the mall is unbearably crowded after lunchtime. so you reluctantly drag yourself out of bed, making coffee while jeonghan picks out a couple outfit he insisted you wear. you smile when you see what he’s chosen, two red flannels and your favorite pair of jeans. you try to keep him at bay as you dress, but he grumbles at you as he pulls his own clothes on.

“so mean to me, the man you love,” he says in disbelief, watching as you pull on a white tank top to wear under the flannel. “nice tits.”

“focus.”

“sorry,” he smiles. “do you wanna eat before we leave or get something on the way there?”

you spend some time following jeonghan around this very fancy department store, helping him pick out new work clothes. he begged you to stay with him, not wanting to lose you to the purses he saw you gravitate towards when you walked in. he grabbed your hand and held on tightly, only letting go every so often to hold up a new shirt or jacket to ask for your opinion. jeonghan usually gets everything tailored, so trying things on isn’t that much of a concern for him here but he happily lets you slide your hands down his arms, slipping off the flannel so you can see what the blazers look like on him. he loves watching you step back in thought before (usually) deciding he looks great and he needs the suit immediately. really, having you here is no help to his wallet, but it boosts his confidence like hell.

he’s about to ask you about a pair of pants when he turns and sees a flash of red moving through the racks behind you two, but he doesn’t pay it any mind. for now, he decides he’s looked at enough clothes and grabs your hand again to go find the jewelry counter. he called yesterday to place an order, and you’re mostly here to see if the watch fits. when you get to the counter you start looking in the glass to see what you might like, but jeonghan’s voice brings you to the end of the counter. he’s thanking the worker as they pass over a velvet box that jeonghan handles with care, looking up and beckoning you to come closer.

“do you like it baby?” he asks, showing you the silver watch with pearl inlays on the timepiece. you gasp and jeonghan laughs with the worker as she says, “i think she likes it!” you reach your hand out and let jeonghan secure it around your wrist, nodding proudly at the perfect fit. he looks back to the attendant and says, “i’ll go ahead and take the other one i called about.”

“sure thing,” she says before heading to the storage room behind her. she comes back with a similar box and jeonghan holds it under his arm as he closes the box your watch came in, knowing you won’t want to take it off now. they’re already paid for, so he offers his free hand to you and you carefully move your newly adorned arm to link through his. as you start walking through the store you think you see a familiar face up ahead, but it’s quickly obstructed by jeonghan’s fast pace.

“wait, did you get something?” you ask, stopping in the middle of the store. let me see yours.”

“i was serious about us matching,” he replies, handing you your box so he can open his. he shows you an almost identical piece, the only difference being a single pearl that connects the two clock hands.

“i love you,” you whisper to him, like it’s a secret the world shouldn’t know about just yet. you cup his face and kiss him, whispering against his lips, “thank you. you’re too wonderful.”

“y/n?” a deep voice calls from behind your boyfriend. you separate from jeonghan and see cheol standing a few feet away, a look of not-so-hidden disgust on his face. “what are you doing here man?”

“same as you,” jeonghan says comfortably, draping his arm across your shoulders. “you mentioned getting some new suits and i realized it’s been a while since i got any new work clothes, so we started here and now we’re probably on our way to that fancy cooking store y/n loves so much.

“nice,” cheol nods, looking at you both awkwardly. you notice then that your heart is beating quickly in your chest, and you hope jeonghan can’t feel it.

“hey, we’re all matching,” jeonghan points out, gesturing between the three of you and your shirts in various shades of red. “that’s cute.”

“right,” cheol nods awkwardly, regarding you both with a strange look in his eyes. you know that look, he looks like he’s trying to hide a secret. “well, um, enjoy the rest of your day.”

“bye cheol,” you say meekly, jeonghan waving as he turns you both toward the exit. you slap his side once you’re far enough away, and cheol rolls his eyes when he hears jeonghan’s unmistakable laugh.

that was weird, he thinks to himself. yesterday jeonghan was out of character, talking to cheol for far too long in the break room, wanting to know about his weekend and what his plans were. when cheol told him he was going shopping, jeonghan didn’t mention anything about needing to go himself. he just asked where cheol planned on going, and then he’s here the same time as him the next day. that’s not a coincidence, is it?

after you spend too much time and too much money at the next store, you leave with bags in your hand that you immediately push onto jeonghan when you find him waiting for you outside.

“jesus woman,” he laughs, “did you buy us a new kitchen?”

“no, just some things we needed,” you say innocently, and jeonghan sighs as he tries to balance the bags in his arms while still typing on his phone.

“what are you doing?” you ask, reaching out to help him but he swats you away.

“i’m texting cheol,” jeonghan says nonchalantly, and your heart drops to your ass.

“oh.”

“i invited him to lunch,” jeonghan says, looking back up at you again. “that ok?”

“um, i don’t know,” you reply. “should we? i mean, are we good?”

“i’m good,” jeonghan nods. “i think it would be nice. maybe we can try going back to normal.”

“o-ok,” you say, unsure of your boyfriend’s intentions. “so, where are we going?”

“we’ll meet him there,” jeonghan says, holding his arm out for you to grab onto. “come on, let’s go to the car.”

when you got to the car you didn’t expect jeonghan to put the bags away and immediately pull you across the center console to sit in his lap. he’s holding you down by the waist, capturing your lips in a kiss that he deepens just to moan into your mouth. you don’t hate it, but you also don’t know what’s gotten into him. you push away from him slightly, his lips chasing yours, but you put your fingers to his lips to hold him off.

“baby. talk to me. what is going on with you,” you state more than ask.

“i wanna do something,” he says mischievously.

“that’s obvious,” you say as you roll your eyes, and jeonghan nipping at your chin makes you swat him away and sit up fully. “what do you want to do. drive me insane?”

“yep,” he nods. “open the glovebox.”

“jeonghan-”

“what did i say?” he asks, and you stop talking, reaching awkwardly over to the glovebox to find the bullet vibrator and handcuffs still there from a few weeks ago. you hold them up, and jeonghan says, “put the cuffs away. too noticeable.”

“what do you mean?” you ask, confused. “jeonghan, what are you up to?”

“do you trust me?” he asks, and you nod. “words, honey.”

“of course i trust you,” you tell him, placing your hand on his cheek. he hums as he nuzzles into your touch, kissing your palm. he opens his own hand, and you pass him the toy. he turns it on to the lowest setting, pushing your flannel out of the way so he can trace it over your chest. you jolt in his lap when he traces over your nipples, smiling when he sees the buds poking through the thin fabric of your shirt. “hannie, we have to go to lunch-”

“to see seungcheol,” he says, eyes watching your chest erupt in goosebumps as he continues dragging the vibrator slowly over your skin.

“yes, and it’d be rude if we invited him and then we were late,” you scold, “so whatever you want to do get to it. or, better yet, wait until after.”

“why would that be better?” jeonghan asks, looking up at you darkly. “you wanna see cheol so you have more to think about when i make you come later?”

“that’s not what i me-eant,” you struggle to say, moaning a little at the end when jeonghan presses the vibrator over your clothed cunt. he pushes it up a few levels and you let out a shaky breath as you try to keep yourself from grinding down.

“give me a color baby.”

“green.”

“good,” he smiles, unbuttoning your pants as he keeps talking. “here’s what i want you to do. i want you to take this and keep it in your pussy while we have lunch. can you do that for me?”

“hannie, i...” you trail off, eyes holding his gaze as you realize he’s looking at you the same way he did a few nights ago. that dark lust is still there. that signal that he might be into this more than he’s letting on. there’s a plan brewing in that pretty head of his, and you let out a shaky breath as you think.

“baby, i need a color,” he repeats. you hold his gaze a little longer before whispering, “green.”

jeonghan is a piece of shit. you hate his guts right now, watching you so happily as you listen to cheol describe his life in europe. you’re struggling, trying so hard to not make it obvious that you literally have a vibrator inside you right now. jeonghan is staring at you with stars in his eyes, and cheol is trying to ignore it, but he can’t stop himself.

“listen, man, did you invite me out to make me jealous or something? i’m sure y/n told you what we talked about at the party,” he says, glancing at you and considering your expression for a second. you look...off. he can’t place why, so he turns back to jeonghan. “i’m not gonna do anything, but come on. be mature about it.”

“i had no ill intentions inviting you out today,” jeonghan says. “we really wanted to catch up, didn’t we y/n?” and all you do is nod. “she’s been wanting us to get back to normal, so i thought this would be a good start.”

“this was your idea?” cheol asks you, and you open your mouth to speak, shifting uncomfortably but soon realizing that was an awful idea. the vibrator has slid up so it’s pressed right against your clit, and your eyes flutter slightly as you try to speak.

“i mean, i wanted you to-” you take a breath, “to get along since you work together. but lunch was his idea,” you explain, pointing a shaky finger at your smug boyfriend. “but i want to hear more about europe. did you go to italy at all?”

“oh my god, you’d go crazy over there,” cheol smiles at you softly. “lots of cool food, amazing coffee.”

“sounds nice,” you smile back, and watching the two of you makes something warm stir in jeonghan’s chest.

“baby, tell him about that pasta you tried making,” jeonghan teases, and you roll your eyes.

“i thought i would try to make fresh pasta,” you start telling cheol, “but i fucked up. i started boiling it and the pasta just...dissolved?”

“it was disgusting,” jeonghan nods. “like a big eggy blob.”

“ew,” cheol says, looking down at the eggs in his noodles. “don’t ruin my appetite for me dude.”

“sorry,” jeonghan laughs, looking at you carefully. he can tell you’re close, so he decides to let you have a break, turning to cheol. “so be honest. how’s work?”

“you mean aside from our assistants having some kind of beef?” cheol laughs, and jeonghan joins him. “it’s good..” you stop listening, instead focusing on the vibrations between your legs. you press your thighs together looking for more pressure, and as the boys talk about some work drama you cover your mouth to hide a silent scream as you come. you play it off as a yawn, but cheol looks at you curiously. “y/n, you ok? are we boring you?” he laughs. if only he knew what that word meant to you and jeonghan.

“oh no, profit margins and revenue blah blah is sooo interesting,” you tease, shooting them both a glare. “no, i’m just really tired. someone didn’t let me sleep in this morning-”

“we had errands!” jeonghan whines, and cheol watches you two fondly.

“i think i might go splash some water on my face,” you tell them, looking at cheol so you don’t see the way jeonghan will react to you leaving. cheol catches himself staring, but he realizes now why you look different. it’s subtle, but he’d recognize it anywhere. you’ve got that kind of glow you only have when you’ve just come. cheol watches you leave, and then turns back to jeonghan.

“she ok?” he asks, and jeonghan shrugs.

“yeah, but we may not stay long if she’s not feeling well,” jeonghan covers, and cheol watches him closely, but eventually decides to leave it alone. surprisingly, he was having a good time. so he let’s himself enjoy this, returning your smile when you come back from the restroom (vibrator securely in your pocket now). “all good baby?”

“yeah,” you nod. “sorry, guess i haven’t slept enough this week.”

“you need to take better care of her,” cheol says to jeonghan, sipping his drink as he waits for him to respond.

“she’s the one that stays up late!” jeonghan whines, and you try to kick him underneath the table. “whatever. pay for your own lunch then.”

“i got you,” cheol says instead, and jeonghan feels a pang of jealousy shoot through his chest. whatever, he thinks to himself. his plan is going well. he’ll just let this play out and hope it works in his favor.

cheol is still thinking about your lunch together when he goes back to work on monday. it was...nice. like really nice, being back around you and jeonghan. he almost felt comfortable with you again, but there was something about the way you acted that made him suspicious.

he’s got a long day ahead of him, so he needs to stop thinking about you. it’s hard though, being back, so close to you yet so far. he loved you so much, still does. and he knows you do too. but jeonghan...

speak of the devil, there’s a knock at the door to cheol’s office as soon as he sits at his desk. he tries not to groan too loud before telling them to come in, and he’s a little surprised to see that it’s jeonghan. they weren’t supposed to meet until 10, why was he here already?

“you got a crush on me or something?” cheol teases as jeonghan makes himself at home and sits in one of the plush chairs in front of cheol’s desk. “we’ve been around each other a lot lately.”

“you’re a handsome man, what can i say,” jeonghan laughs, and cheol can feel his ears warming at the compliment. “no, i wanted to catch you before your first meeting. i’m afraid i have to reschedule on you.”

“aw, darn, you mean we don’t get to argue about budgets until seungkwan breaks it up?”

“i like to think of it as negotiating,” jeonghan replies, and cheol rolls his eyes.

“you’re such a boss. i never thought you could be this professional,” cheol tells him.

“it’s weird right?” jeonghan laughs, and they spend a few minutes reminiscing over their adventures as crazy kids loose in europe. jeonghan checks a watch that looks so brand new it seems to sparkle, and he stands with a sigh, telling cheol, “so i’ll get kwan to set up a new meeting with vernon?”

“sure,” cheol shrugs. “or whenever you have the time. you don’t need an appointment to come talk to me.”

“oh that reminds me,” jeonghan says, stopping with his hand on the door. “y/n wants to have you over for dinner, so text me when you’re free. it’s a standing invitation.”

“um, jeonghan?” cheol calls, and his friend stops with his back to cheol, smile creeping over his lips. “how is she? like, is she sick, or something? i just noticed on saturday that...”

“that what?” jeonghan asks, turning back to face cheol. “she seemed all right to me. maybe a little distracted.”

“yeah, distracted,” cheol says as he narrows his eyes at jeonghan. “you weren’t..doing anything, were you?”

“what do you mean?” jeonghan fakes innocence, cocking his head to the side.

“never mind,” cheol brushes it off. “i’ll text you to let you know when i’m free.”

“sounds good,” jeonghan waves behind him as he leaves, smug smile on his face as his plan falls into place.

when you come home from work later that week and find cheol on your couch, you’re shocked. well, this has happened before, so it’s not as shocking as that first time, but if you had a nickel, right? it’s weird that it’s happening again, and you have deja vu to that first night seeing cheol again after so long. he can tell you’re surprised, so he wants to go find jeonghan in the kitchen and sucker punch him.

“um, are you here for dinner?” you ask, and cheol nods.

“i thought jeonghan had told you, i’m-”

“sorry baby,” jeonghan says, leaning against the wall near the kitchen, drying his hands. “we talked about this at work, and when you said you made too much of that pork thing i figured it was a good night to have him.”

“yeah, that’s fine,” you nod. “heads up would’ve been nice though, what if i said something embarrassing when i walked in?”

“y/n, we dated for four years, you can’t embarrass yourself around me,” cheol says, and you look at jeonghan to read his reaction. he just shrugs and says, “he’s right. you have no shame.”

“i meant what if i said something embarrassing for you,” you correct him, gliding toward the kitchen to kiss jeonghan on the cheeks. “what if i came in here calling you snookums, then all the guys at the office would know you’re a big softie.”

“snookums?” cheol laughs from the couch, and you turn to him with an accusing finger.

“watch it, or i’ll tell jeonghan what your nickname was.”

“what was it?” he asks anyway, an evil smile on his face.

“sweetcheeks,” you and cheol say together, and jeonghan laughs.

“because he’s got cute cheeks?” he questions, and you shake your head.

“butt cheeks,” you clarify. “he’s got a nice ass.”

“whoa,” cheol chimes in, and you ignore him.

“she never talks about my butt like that,” jeonghan says, and cheol laughs nervously as you move past jeonghan into the kitchen. you’re checking the pork you left in the slow cooker this morning when you feel a presence behind you, and assuming it’s jeonghan you say, “a text would’ve been nice.”

“hey, i told him i shouldn’t just show up like this,” cheol’s voice replies instead, and you jump at the unexpected sound. “shit, sorry.”

“no, it’s ok,” you laugh it off, turning to find him awkwardly standing behind you. “it’s really fine that you’re here, cheollie. promise. i wasn’t expecting it, but hannie was right, we’ve got plenty of food.”

“are you making that thing we tried in vegas?” cheol asks hopefully, and he does a little happy dance when you nod. a couple years back, a pair of your friends from high school got married in vegas and invited everyone they knew. you and cheol went for the ‘ceremony’ but stayed a couple days longer for your first real trip together. there was one restaurant you visited just about every day so you could go back and try everything on the menu before you left. you both agreed that this pork was the best thing you’ve ever had, so when you found the recipe online the other day you knew you had to try it. “do you need help?”

“um, could you make the sauce for me?” you ask, and he nods before walking to the sink. “bowls are above the microwave, utensils by the sink.”

“you y/n-fied jeonghan’s kitchen?” cheol teases. “isn’t there some kind of system you always used when you put dishes away? there’s a reason everything is where it is.”

“well i knew i would be cooking in here the most so i kinda made it mine,” you say, and a whine from the doorway makes you turn. you see jeonghan pouting and you roll your eyes, turning back to the meat as you say, “tell me i’m wrong and i’ll sucker punch you.”

“baby, we have a guest, be nice,” jeonghan mumbles as he opens the fridge, asking you both if you want something to drink. he falls into working alongside cheol, chopping veggies to go with the pork and making sure the lettuce is clean for the wraps.

“y/n, taste this,” cheol says, and you turn to him as he offers a spoon. he makes an airplane noise as he brings it to your lips, and you close your mouth to glare at him. he accidentally bumps the spoon into your chin, spilling a little on you.

“you’re a child,” you grumble, tongue licking at the sauce on your lips. “but damn. that’s good.”

“right?” cheol smiles, turning to jeonghan to do the same, sans plane noises this time. you watch fondly as jeonghan tastes, humming cutely to signify his approval. everything is done for the most part, you just need to let the pork brown in the oven for a minute so you all take your drinks and head back to the living room, obliviously sitting down on the couch in a line, jeonghan, you, cheol. jeonghan immediately places his hand on your thigh, and you see cheol’s hand twitch to do the same. he catches himself though, looking up to see if you caught him just to find your eyes staring back. you’re about to say something, or you want to, at least, but jeonghan asking for the tv remote interrupts. you point behind cheol and he finds the remote, passing it across you to jeonghan.

you watch jeonghan pick something to watch, but it mostly ends up as background noise when he turns excitedly to cheol to ask about some show they both used to be obsessed with. you listen at first, but you lay your head down on jeonghan’s shoulder and close your eyes for a moment. jeonghan doesn’t miss the way cheol admires you like this, and he almost mentions his plan now. but it’s not the right time. instead, he lets you rest, only shaking you awake when he hears the timer in the kitchen going off. he and cheol watch you leave, and when jeonghan notices cheol’s eyes following your ass he smiles.

“do you need help baby?” he calls, and cheol is up and in the kitchen before you can reply. he sees you struggling to reach the nice plates at the top of the cabinet, so he comes behind you with a hand at the small of your back to reach above you with ease. you look back at him, eyes glancing down at his lips so briefly, but he’s tuned into your every movement. he catches it, smirking like hell as he goes to set the table. jeonghan comes into the kitchen next with your discarded drinks, and as you start taking the food he says he’ll get the utensils.

“um, where do you want me to sit?” cheol asks when you enter the dining room, and you look at the table and back at him, shrugging.

“wherever,” you reply. “we barely eat in here, so we don’t have assigned seats.”

“can i, um,” he clears his throat, “can i sit next to you?”

“sure,” you nod with a shy smile, pointing to the spot closest to you. “i’ll probably sit there.”

“so you do have assigned seats,” cheol squints at you, and you giggle as jeonghan finally comes back in, drinks and utensils balanced dangerously in his hands. cheol rushes to help and you say you’ll grab the rest of the food, leaving the two men alone.

“where are you sitting?” jeonghan asks, watching where cheol points so he can place the drinks accordingly. “don’t try to lay a move on my girlfriend.”

“i would never,” cheol says, looking at jeonghan with a slight challenge in his eyes. “same as you?”

“right,” jeonghan nods, and you come back in to some tension. you awkwardly walk past them, the smell of the pork pulling their attention like cartoon characters smelling a pie. they start complimenting you without even trying the food, cheol pulling your chair out for you politely as you sit down. he helps you show jeonghan how to build the perfect wrap, and when you’re done demonstrating you hold the one in your hand up to your boyfriend. he leans forward, looking between you both as he takes a bite, moaning openly at how good it is. “fuck, that’s delicious.”

“damn,” cheol hums, cheeks full of food as he looks at you, “you’re unreal. this tastes exactly like it did at the restaurant.”

“i think she’s a witch,” jeonghan jokes, and you kick him under the table.

“behave, you two,” cheol warns, a joking lilt in his voice, but you and jeonghan listen obediently, everyone falling silent as you start piling your plates and feasting on the delicious food. there’s really no talking, which is fine, but when the meal is over (plates cleared) the boys bicker back and forth over who’s going to do the dishes.

“cheol’s a guest, he shouldn’t have to do your chores,” you weigh in, and cheol drapes his hand over the back of your chair as he looks at jeonghan smugly.

“baby,” jeonghan whines and you shake your head. “you’re mean.”

“you’re meaner,” you reply, standing and stacking plates so it’s easier for jeonghan to take into the kitchen.

“how am i mean?!” he cries, and you hold his gaze, trying to remind him of the last time you ate with cheol. a smile slowly breaks out over his face, and cheol coughs delicately behind you.

“should i leave you two alone?” he jokes, a hint of seriousness in it though. he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome, but you and jeonghan insist he stay, so he relaxes. he grabs two more drinks for you and himself from the kitchen, playfully sticking his tongue out at jeonghan stuck at the sink.

he comes back into the living room to you sprawled on the couch, so he leaves your drink on the coffee table before sitting in the armchair. you look up at him cutely and pout, saying, “you’re so far away.”

“i’m right here baby,” he lets slip, and when your eyes bulge slightly he backtracks. “shit, sorry, i didn’t um, sorry.”

“it’s ok,” you say, holding his gaze. “so. tell me more about europe.”

“what else do you need to know?” cheol chuckles. “i feel like i’ve droned on about it.”

“you haven’t said..everything, i’m sure,” you say, and cheol gets it. you want to know if he was with anybody else, his ego boosted at your subtle jealousy.

“i haven’t?” he asks, and you know he’s teasing. “i’m not quite sure what you mean, y/n.”

“um,” you sit up before continuing, “any uh, any lucky ladies over there heartbroken that you’re back home?”

“probably a few,” he nods, and you scoff. “i don’t care about them though.”

“oh,” you say meekly, still holding his gaze.

“never did, if i’m honest,” he goes on. “my heart wasn’t in it.”

“sad,” you point out and he nods.

“i’m glad to be back though,” he says with finality. you’re about to respond but jeonghan comes back in and plops down on top of you, pushing your body down into the cushions.

“hannie, we were talking,” you mumble into his chest, not able to move with his lanky body draped over you like this.

“just talking, huh?” he whispers just low enough for you to hear it. “i have something i wanna talk about.”

“what?”

“cheol,” jeonghan calls as he sits up, and you follow, trying to fix your hair as you listen. cheol quirks an eyebrow at you both, and jeonghan says, “you’re still in love with y/n, right?”

“what?” he asks, caught off guard. “i mean, i, i don’t know what you want to hear, man.”

“the truth,” jeonghan admits, and cheol stares for a moment before he says quietly, “i do. i love her.”

“good,” jeonghan smiles, turning to you next. “y/n? you love cheol, right?”

“hannie,” you whisper, and he shakes his head.

“to cheol, baby, tell him,” he whispers back, and you look at cheol as you say, “i think i still love him. yeah.”

“perfect,” jeonghan smiles, looking between you both. “and you love me?” he asks you, to which you agree. he turns to cheol and asks the same, and cheol hesitantly nods. “so we’re all on the same page.”

“no, i don’t think we are,” cheol says, and you nod, pulling his hand to your lap as you ask, “hannie, what are you doing?”

“i want to see you two kiss,” jeonghan says, eyes searing into yours. you gasp, eyes flicking over to cheol, and you catch his hands twitching on the armrests. you look back to jeonghan, who’s waiting expectantly. “what do you think?”

“i think you’re crazy,” you whisper, and his expression falls only slightly.

“it’s just one kiss baby,” jeonghan says with a shrug. “i won’t mind. i’m sure cheol won’t mind. i know you want to,” he says, and you don’t respond. “it’s just one kiss, you can do it for me,” he says again, and your heart picks up speed when cheol pipes up.

“yeah, y/n, it’s just one kiss,” he smirks, and you glare at him.

“you stay out of this,” you point, and he puts his hands up innocently. you look back at your madman of a boyfriend and see the way he’s looking at you, and it’s weird. you know that look. you know he wants this. he’s...hopeful? and you think saying no would hurt his feelings. you look back at cheol, who’s watching you in a similar way, and you breathe out, “fine. one kiss.”

“get to it then,” jeonghan says, patting your thigh as you look between the two men again. your skin feels like it’s on fire as you stand, walking over to cheol knowing they’re both studying your every move. you stop in front of him, suddenly self conscious. you don’t know what to do, so when jeonghan says softly, “sit in his lap baby,” you do it, hands carefully placed on cheol’s shoulders as you straddle his lap, hovering over him. you hear shifting behind you, guessing that jeonghan is moving so he can see better, and then you flick your eyes up to cheol. his pupils are the size of saucers, and you can’t help but let out a little whimper as his hands fall to your hips.

“get comfortable,” he says, “can’t kiss you so stiff like this.”

you let him push you down into his lap, one hand staying on your hip as the other comes up to cup your chin. he lifts it softly, bringing your lips to his in a delicate kiss. your skin erupts in goosebumps, memories flashing back at hyper speed. the feeling of cheol’s lips on yours is intoxicating, and you instantly want more. your lips chase his, eyes still closed as he pulls you away, and the sound of the two men chuckling pulls you back to the moment.

“how was it honey?” jeonghan asks behind you, and watching cheol you respond, “it was good.”

“just good?” cheol pouts, and you slap his shoulder, getting up before you lose your courage.

“i’m, uh, i need to go shower,” you say quickly, avoiding their eyes. “thanks for coming over cheollie. i mean. whatever. thanks for coming.”

you’re gone so fast it’s like there’s a gust of wind in your wake, and cheol looks at his best friend before asking, “what the fuck man?”

“i have a proposition for you,” jeonghan begins, “only if you’re up for it...”

finding cheol in your apartment is becoming more common than you’d like. well, it’s not that his presence is unwanted. it’s just that jeonghan likes to stay unpredictable, so you never know when you’ll come home and find seungcheol on your couch, in your kitchen, in your bathroom? you presume jeonghan is up to something, you just don’t know what yet. he hasn’t asked you to kiss cheol again, though. that was...interesting.

you’ve been trying so hard to forget cheol. you were with jeonghan and you knew you loved him, so you wanted to be there for him in every sense. you tried your best to forget about how cheol made you feel, about how you felt for him, but as soon as your skin touched, as soon as your lips grazed his, everything came flooding back. for a good period of your life you thought cheol would someday be your husband. now, after several whirlwind months with jeonghan, you’re conflicted. you love them both, and you don’t know what to do about it.

jeonghan does.

he knows exactly what he’s doing, inviting cheol over so you never have a chance to talk yourself out of seeing him. he knows exactly what he’s doing when he undresses you in the hall before you shower together, leaving your panties on the ground purposefully for cheol to see them later. he knows what he’s doing when he takes the armchair in the living room, leaving you and cheol to sit so awkwardly far from each other on the couch. jeonghan watches in amusement the way your eyes always flick back and forth to each other, never seeming to look when the other is staring. he knows you both want something. he just needs to sit you down and tell you that he wants something too.

one particular night, you had a feeling you’d find cheol when you came home. you expected it at this point, surprised now when jeonghan would tell you it was just him. today your inkling was correct, and you open the door to jeonghan at the couch, casework laid out on the coffee table while he yelled to cheol in the kitchen. you walk over to him first and press a kiss to his cheek, glancing at the work and piecing together that it was budget stuff he and cheol are constantly bickering over. you get up to say hi to the other man, almost colliding with him as he leaves the kitchen, two drinks in hand. you press your hands to his chest to stop him from spilling everything all over you, and you absentmindedly rub over his pecs as you say hi. he smirks down at you, chest warming at your touch. you catch yourself wanting to stand on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek much like you did to your boyfriend, but that’s not appropriate. you excuse yourself so you can go change, leaving the boys to do their work for a while longer. they get through a couple pages before cheol turns to jeonghan expectantly.

“what?” he asks, barely looking at his friend. “pouting at me won’t get you the money for that advertiser you want.”

“when are you gonna tell her?” cheol asks instead, and jeonghan stills. he told cheol about his plan the night of the kiss, and not so shockingly he was on board. they laid out some ground rules, negotiating much like they are now, but cheol was all for it. jeonghan just had to mention it to you, and he was sure it wouldn’t take much convincing.

“we can talk to her tonight if you want,” jeonghan shrugs, focused on the papers in front of him.

“how are you so casual about this man?” cheol scoffs as he leans back in his chair. then in a quieter voice he says, “you ask me to fuck your girlfriend and you keep talking about it like it’s a business deal.”

“we have an agreement,” jeonghan points out. “so it’s kind of like a business deal.”

“but she’s your girlfriend-”

“and she’s your ex,” he cuts cheol off, finally meeting his judgmental gaze. “we both know her really well. we both know she’ll be into it. the agreement was just...a formality.”

“a formality?”

“so no one gets any funny ideas,” jeonghan says sternly, eyes flicking to the hallway when he hears the bedroom door open. soon you’re walking into the living room, a pair of his boxers and an old sweatshirt replacing your work clothes. jeonghan doesn’t miss the way cheol checks you out as you sit down, throwing your legs over jeonghan’s lap even if he was trying to work.

“i can’t believe you still have that,” cheol smiles, speaking to you as jeonghan starts clearing the coffee table. cheol points at your sweatshirt and says, “you stole that from me two years ago, remember?”

“i didn’t steal it, you left it at my apartment!” you argue, and he shakes his head.

“no, i left it at your apartment once and then you wore it to my place like a week later. i took it off of you and hid it so you wouldn’t take it back,” he says, and you can feel yourself blush as jeonghan looks in your direction. “but then when i was packing that apartment up, hm, suddenly that shirt was missing again. guess i finally know where it ended up.”

“oops?” you offer, and cheol laughs.

“i’m glad you kept it,” he says shyly, eyes darting over to jeonghan ever so briefly. he’s holding onto your thighs, rubbing them softly as he watches you with a strange look in his eyes.

“sorry baby, i can go change,” you start to say, sitting up so you can get off the couch, but jeonghan presses a careful hand into your stomach to keep you in place.

“no, keep it on,” he says. “i don’t mind.”

“o-ok,” you stammer out, stomach doing flips at the heat coming off of your boyfriend. he keeps watching you, and after what feels like forever he eventually speaks.

“baby, i have something to ask you.”

“um, should we go to the bedroom then?” you ask, and he shakes his head.

“later,” he tells you, hand leaving your stomach to grab your own, lacing your fingers with his. “how do you feel about me and cheol?”

“hannie, we’ve talked about this, i care about you both a lot but i love you,” you emphasize with a squeeze of his hand in yours. he smiles softly as he brings your knuckles to his lips, kissing each one as he speaks.

“not what i meant, but that’s good to hear,” he says lowly. if cheol didn’t already know what he was going to ask he’d be straining to hear, but he’s been imagining this moment for weeks. he could practically speak with jeonghan because he’s so sure of what he’ll say next. “no, baby, i wanted to know if you’d be ok with fucking me and cheol. or letting us fuck you. it’s your choice, really.”

“what?” you breathe out, looking at both men in disbelief. as shocked as you are right now, you can’t deny the way your stomach just flipped.

“we can have sex and he can watch, you two can have sex and i’ll watch, it’s whatever you wanna do,” jeonghan continues, and his eyes darken when he feels your legs shift in his lap. “come on baby, use your words. we know you want this.”

“i-i don’t know,” you whisper, looking to cheol who’s staring back at you like he wants to devour you. it sends a familiar shiver down your spine as you look back to jeonghan, his hand coming up to brush your hair back behind your ear.

“yes you do, pretty girl,” he encourages. “do you want to?” you nod. “words baby.”

“yes, i want to,” you say quietly, and cheol feels his dick twitch already.

“what do you want?” he asks, and he watches proudly as you and jeonghan turn to stare at him. you take a shaky breath as you decide.

“i want you to fuck me cheollie,” you answer, looking at jeonghan as you say, “then i want you hannie.”

“let’s go to our room then baby,” jeonghan says before he pulls you in for a kiss, pulling you up with him as he stands. your lips stay latched onto his as you walk, until you feel a pair of strong hands pulling you by the waist. cheol’s chest collides with your back, kissing from the spot behind your ear all the way down your neck. he’s making little marks, but he’s doing it so quickly you wonder if jeonghan told him not to leave any. when he sucks on the part that always had you shivering, jeonghan takes your open mouth as an opportunity to dive back in, his tongue gliding past your lips as cheol pulls you onto the bed with him. jeonghan keeps kissing you as he drapes his body over yours, cheol brushing more of your hair out of the way so he can kiss along your jaw.

“you’re gonna have to let go of her man,” cheol mumbles, sounding only a little bit pouty. jeonghan pulls away from you with a pop, your lips still pursed as he helps turn you around. you feel jeonghan’s hand at the back of your neck as he pushes your face toward cheol’s your lips meeting his in a tentative kiss. you feel sparks ignite across your chest. despite all the forgetting, despite how you feel for jeonghan, you still missed cheol deeply. he missed you, and he can’t see himself letting you go anytime soon. his hands are holding onto your hips for dear life, which makes what jeonghan’s trying to do a little more difficult. he pushes cheol’s hands up so they settle at your sides, holding onto the soft skin of your stomach. meanwhile jeonghan is pulling his boxers down your legs, hissing when he sees you weren’t wearing any panties.

“damn baby, it’s like you knew what we were planning,” jeonghan smirks, tracing his thumb over your swollen pussy lips. you jerk in cheol’s hold, and he takes this as a chance to separate from your lips, peeking over you at jeonghan to ask, “she not wearing any panties?”

“nope,” jeonghan replies, still watching the way your arousal drips out of you, pulling your lips apart as you try to hold back little moans.

“looks like somebody’s still a little slut for me huh?” cheol asks, whispering into your ear. if jeonghan weren’t watching you react to it right in front of his eyes, he would clock cheol for calling you such a thing. but with a shudder of his own he realizes you like it, your entrance clenching around nothing as cheol continues whispering foul things into your ears. “bet you’ve been thinking about this for weeks. months, maybe? how often did you think about me fucking you?”

“answer him,” jeonghan chimes in, and he hears you let out a shaky breathe before you respond. as soon as you start to speak, jeonghan licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit, struggling to reach your bundle of nerves at this angle. he pulls you up by the ass so you’re straddling cheol with your knees tucked up enough to arch your back, pussy on full display for your boyfriend. “sorry baby, i didn’t hear that.”

“just that one t-time,” you reply, jeonghan’s hands tracing around your pussy but never touching where you need him most.

“tell me the truth, baby.”

“a c-couple times,” you admit. “wh-when we were in the kitchen. when, um, when we were in the shower a few days ago. and....today. when i was coming home from work.” jeonghan is quiet, the room eerily still, but then you hear and feel jeonghan spit directly onto your pussy, spreading his saliva around to mix with your arousal.

“what were you thinking about?” jeonghan asks, his fingers massaging your pussy without touching your clit. “tell cheol.”

“today,” he adds. “what were you thinking about today?”

“i was-” you gasp when jeonghan’s fingers trace over your clit, “god, i was thinking about sucking your dick.”

“really?” cheol asks. “always so cock hungry. she like that with you, jeonghan?”

“all the time.”

“you like making your men feel good?” cheol asks as he strokes your hair, and you nod. with his hand still on your head, he softly starts pushing you down, saying, “well then show me what i’ve been missing, love.”

you feel jeonghan back away from you, letting you shift down the mattress until you’re at eye level with the bulge in cheol’s dress pants. you settle on your stomach, fingers tracing over the outline you know so well. as you tease cheol you feel jeonghan between your legs, kneeling behind you so he can grab your waist and hold you in place while he eats you out.

you gasp when you feel jeonghan’s tongue at your core, slowly licking up every drop you let out as you undress cheol. you remember how big he is, taking a small gulp when his cock springs to life after you pull his boxers down. you stroke it a few times but you know he doesn’t like to wait, so you lean forward to suck his tip past your lips. the way he groans makes you clench, and jeonghan continues licking, dipping his tongue to your entrance to let you suck him in as he eats you like a man starved.

“don’t tease me baby,” cheol growls, his hand tangled in your hair as he starts pushing you further down his cock. jeonghan rubs his thumb over your clit and you gag around cheol, so he pulls you away for a second to breathe. “fucking missed this.”

“don’t get used to it,” jeonghan says into your pussy.

“no promises,” cheol replies, sighing as you go back to swallowing him slowly. the foul sounds coming from your throat are no match for the way jeonghan is devouring you. he brings two fingers up and hisses as he watches your pussy take them in, and he moves so he can suck on your clit while he finger fucks you. you keep bobbing on cheol’s cock, whines coming from deep within your chest. cheol takes over for a minute, his hands in your hair guiding you, and he curses as he watches saliva spill past your lips. when jeonghan hits that spot inside you cheol watches in awe as your eyes roll back, moaning over his cock and sending shockwaves through his body. he’s trying his best not to fuck your throat, but he wants so badly to let go. to have his way with you. it’s like jeonghan reads his mind, because he pulls back just long enough to say, “don’t hold back, cheol. let her have it. fuck her like you used to.”

he looks down at you, fucked out gaze and a polite nod confirming you want that too. cheol’s grip tightens, bracing himself before he starts fucking into your mouth recklessly. he’s close, but he won’t come until you do. he just hopes jeonghan is feeling generous.

and he is. jeonghan is always happy to make you come. unlike cheol, he never wants you to hold back. jeonghan always wants you to come, but once you start he may not let you stop. you can feel yourself getting closer, jeonghan’s lips sucking your clit alternating with delicate touches of his tongue all while his fingers keep a steady pace at your core. you make the mistake of looking up at cheol, seeing the way he’s staring at you, and the overwhelming feeling of his eyes on you and jeonghan’s touch sends you over the edge. you start to come, jeonghan coaxing you through it, and as your throat constricts around cheol while you moan, his dick twitches once, twice, and then he’s coming down your throat. jeonghan pulls you off of him while he’s still coming, the last few spurts falling over your lips and chin. cheol watches in shock (and a little arousal?) as jeonghan pulls you to his lips, licking up the bit of come you couldn’t swallow. he kisses you, obviously wanting you to taste yourself on his tongue. cheol can’t believe he’s getting hard again, but when jeonghan drops you back down to his lap you can’t help but laugh.

“i’m not the only needy one, huh?” you tease, flicking at his red tip.

“don’t get cocky baby,” cheol smiles. “we’re just getting started.”

“what do you want to do next?” you ask as you swipe your hand over your chin. you look between them both and jeonghan nods to cheol.

“ask him,” jeonghan replies. you turn to see cheol with an evil smile, and he asks, “you still use the color system?” you and jeonghan nod, but cheol shakes his head. “need you both to say yes.”

“we do,” you say with jeonghan. cheol keeps watching you both, an idea brewing behind those beautiful brown eyes of his.

“have you ever tied her up before?” he asks jeonghan, but his eyes stay on you.

“please,” jeonghan rolls his eyes. “we did that before she was even my girlfriend.”

“where do you keep them?” cheol asks, this time expecting you to answer.

“um, box under the bed,” you reply, and you watch him slide off the mattress to kneel on the floor. he looks for a moment, mumbling about there being multiple boxes down here. “it’s the black one.” he’s quiet for a moment, so you ask, “did you find it?” his head pops up, silk ties in one hand and something else in his other.

“what is this?” he asks jeonghan, and that’s when you see he’s holding a dildo. “your dick doesn’t work or something?”

“that’s not for him,” you answer instead, and cheol looks at you in shock. he looks back at the dildo, then to jeonghan who shrugs, a cute blush on his cheeks. “put it back, unless you want me to show you what we do with it.”

cheol scrambles to return it to its box, crawling back on the bed so he can reach for your shirt. “take this off, baby.” you start to do as he says, and he turns to jeonghan, same fiery look in his eyes as he says, “you too.”

“what?” jeongan sputters, and cheol holds firm.

“get undressed, i’m tying you up too,” he explains, and jeonghan looks at you for support.

“what are you doing cheollie?” you ask, a hand reaching out to cup his cheek. he leans into the touch, kissing your palm before he replies.

“this is your punishment,” he says, looking to jeonghan who’s only wearing his boxers now. “both of you.”

“why?” you ask, checking on jeonghan yourself. he looks fine with this, but the way he’s staying quiet has you worried.

“you both left me,” cheol says, his eyebrows furrowed as he unties the silk. he looks up at you, then jeonghan, and asks, “is this ok? what color?”

“green,” you and jeonghan reply, and you look at your boyfriend again. he smiles at you, blowing a kiss, and cheol tells you both to lay down. he sits between you, and starting with you he leans over your body to take your right wrist and tie it to the headboard. he moves to jeonghan next, and you watch closely at the way jeonghan’s eyes keep flitting down to cheol’s lips. he ties jeonghan’s left wrist to the headboard, leaving each of you a free hand still on the bed. cheol uses what’s left of the silk to tie your left wrist to jeonghan’s right, and he smiles when you instantly grip jeonghan’s hand in yours.

“i’m gonna fuck her, is that ok?” cheol asks, dangerously close to jeonghan’s face. he nods, whispering his approval. cheol looks to you and you nod, trying to reach out for him but only getting so far. cheol chuckles darkly as he undresses fully, your breath catching in your throat at getting to see him bare like this again. you’re staring but you don’t care, drinking in the way cheol’s muscles ripple with every movement. you watch as he grips his cock, bringing it to your clit and tapping it over the sensitive bud a few times. you yelp when he slides his cock through your folds, the tip catching on the hood of your pussy. you want him to do more, but he just watches you squirming beneath him in amusement. “baby?”

“hm?” you reply.

“can you do something for me?”

“anything,” you breath out, squeezing your eyes shut as you feel him rubbing his tip against your clit again. “anything, cheollie. just fuck me, please.”

“needy baby,” he tsks, sitting back as he speaks. “i need you to make hannie feel good for me while i fuck you, can you do that?”

“but i’m tied up-”

“you can still move your hand, can’t you?” he asks, gesturing to your hand on the mattress that’s squeezing onto jeonghan’s for dear life. you shake his hand off and reach over to his lap, smiling when hannie let you trace his cock through his boxers. his hand covers yours, guiding your movements, and cheol mumbles, “yeah, just like that baby.”

“need help, cheollie,” you whimper, cutting through jeonghan’s whines and cheol’s intense focus on his friend’s cock. he looks at you concerned, and you tell him, “i need help getting his boxers off.”

“you can do it on your own,” cheol encourages, and he watches you struggle to pull the waistband of hannie’s boxers down enough for his cock to be free. you look at cheol who reaches for your hand to kiss it softly. saying, “see? you can do anything, pretty girl.”

“say something nice to hannie too,” you pout, and both boys feel their stomachs flip. cheol looks at jeonghan, from his eyes down to his lips and then down to his cock. when he looks back up at his best friend he says, “hannie has a really pretty cock.”

“he does,” you agree, using your mobile hand to reach up and stroke his cheek. his own hand gets in the way and you giggle, but jeonghan is a blushing mess. you don’t get to see him like this often, but when you do, you eat it up.

“keep looking at him like that baby,” cheol says, shifting at the end of the bed. “gonna fuck you now. want him to watch you come undone on my cock.”

“he knows what it looks like,” you whisper, and jeonghan smiles at you. you lean forward to kiss him, pulling back with a gasp when cheol thrusts his cock deep inside you. jeonghan can’t help but moan with you as cheol fucks you, your pussy remembering every inch and every curve. he finds a rhythm quickly, holding you down even though there’s no where for you to go. he tears his eyes away from your pussy swallowing his cock to see you disobeying him, not doing anything to please jeonghan. he reaches for your hand and wraps it around hannie’s cock for you, once again your boyfriend covering your hand with his to help you. he curses under his breath as you jerk him off, and you whine at the feeling of cheol fucking your pussy like he’s never fucked you before.

you can tell you’re dripping, and you feel some of jeonghan’s precum spilling over your hand. you bring it to your mouth to lick clean, jeonghan moaning so pornographically it makes cheol’s dick twitch inside you. you go back to stroking jeonghan off, focused on making him feel good so you can ignore the way you wanna cry because of cheol’s cock. he’s not having that, knowing you’re holding back. he knows your body better than anyone. better than jeonghan, even. he lifts your legs above his shoulders, your thighs squeezed together as he fucks you deeper, and his next thrust rips a scream from deep within your chest. he keeps fucking you, watching as your pace on jeonghan’s cock shows how badly you’re falling apart. if jeonghan weren’t helping you, cheol is sure you would’ve stopped by now. you’re letting them both use you however they want, and cheol can’t help it, he comes again, this time painting your walls with his come.

he keeps fucking you, but he gets a new idea. he starts untying your arm from the headboard, stilling inside you but hissing as he feels you clenching on his cock. he lets you catch your breath before he pulls out, admiring the way his come leaks from your pussy. he grabs you by the hips to push you over to jeonghan, sitting you up over his cock. jeonghan moans when he feels some of cheol’s come drip onto his cock, and cheol whispers in your ear, “fuck him for me, baby. show me how good he makes you feel.”

cheol and jeonghan both watch in awe as you sink down on hannie’s cock. once you’re settled on his lap, cock fully sheathed inside you, you let out a choked moan and cheol feels himself get hard again. he always wanted to see you fuck someone else. you’d talked about it before, but it never happened. he can’t believe he’s watching it now, his best girl and his best friend, and he can see the love in your eyes as you bounce on jeonghan’s cock. you know what drives him crazy, both of you moaning softly as you ride him. you sit for a moment, resting your legs, but cheol slaps your ass and tells you to keep going. you listen, fucking jeonghan like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do. his hand reaches up to tweak at your nipples, your hand tied to his trying to push him away.

“what’s wrong, honey?” he asks. “too much?” and you nod. “too bad. if it’s too much then you need to come.”

“want you to come with me hannie,” you tell him, and he shakes his head.

“you know the rules honey. you come first. now if you want to come, come.”

another scream rips from your throat, a few tears falling past your eyes as you ride through your high on jeonghan’s cock. he waits until you’re still on top of him before he starts fucking up into you, the aftershocks of your orgasm jolting you with every thrust. cheol watches as you come again, this time triggering jeonghan’s release. cheol lays down so he can watch your pussy flutter around jeonghan’s cock, both men staring mesmerized at their come dripping out of you. without saying anything they both reach down, swiping fingers through the mess between your legs. you open your mouth, waiting for them to shove their fingers in, moaning at the taste of both of them mixed together. you hiccup when they finally pull back, and cheol helps you carefully lift yourself off of jeonghan. he’s about to say he’ll be right back with a wash cloth, but as soon as you hit the pillow you start drifting off to sleep. cheol looks at jeonghan who shrugs, asking quietly, “can you untie me now bro?”

they’re quiet as cheol undoes the silk, and after jeonghan stretches his sore limbs he shakes you carefully. they both chuckle at the way you wake up, fond smiles staring back at you as you mumble, “what? i’ll kill you.”

“we need to get you cleaned up, honey,” jeonghan whispers before kissing your cheek. he looks to cheol as he says, “will you keep her awake while i start a bath?”

“of course,” cheol nods, watching jeonghan walk to the en suite bathroom. he looks back at you, staring sleepily up at him, and cheol reaches out to stroke your hair. “hey baby.”

“hi cheollie.”

“how you feeling?”

“good,” you hum, watching as cheol moves to lay down next to you. “i missed you.”

“i missed you too,” cheol replies, still playing with your hair. he brushes the sweaty bit away from your forehead, cupping your face after and just admiring you being so close to him again. he never thought he’d get this chance again, and he wants to thank jeonghan for being a freak and making this happen. he also needs to figure out how to make sure nights like this can happen again. now that cheol’s got you, he’s not letting go. he notices it’s been a few minutes, just you and cheol staring at each other, and then jeonghan’s voice pulls cheol back to reality.

“baby?” jeonghan calls, and cheol gets up to help pull you off the bed. you stumble into his chest, wrapping your hands around his waist and waddle walking with him to the bathroom. jeonghan laughs loudly when he sees you two, heart full at the soft smiles you’re sharing and the shy tint on cheol’s cheeks. jeonghan gestures for you, and cheol helps you walk on your shaky legs over to the bathtub. they help you step in, and once you’ve sat down you look to them sadly.

“what’s wrong?” cheol asks, and your pout deepens.

“neither of you are getting in with me?”

“baby, i don’t think the three of us will fit,” jeonghan chuckles, reaching out to stroke your hair just like cheol was a few moments ago. jeonghan carefully traces your features with his thumb as he whispers sweet nothings to you, and cheol moves toward the door. he knows you just had a threesome, but this feels like something he shouldn’t be watching.

“where are you going?” your voice stops him, one foot back in the bedroom.

“um, i was gonna wash up in the guest room,” cheol says. “jeonghan said i could stay there tonight.”

“our bed is big enough for all three of us,” you say as you lay your head on the edge of the bathtub. you yawn as you keep talking, “you can just sleep with us. i mean, technically you already did.”

“um, i don’t want to overstep-” cheol tries to say, but jeonghan cuts him off.

“stay,” he whispers, something in his eyes that cheol can’t read. “she’s right. it’ll be cozy, but there’s plenty of room.”

“i can sleep in the middle so you won’t get cooties from each other,” you chime in, and cheol breathes a sigh of relief.

“ok, if that’s fine,” he nods. “i’m still gonna shower in the other bathroom. you two do whatever you want in here.”

“you heard the man,” he hears you say as he picks his clothes up from the bedroom floor.

“you’ve had enough tonight honey,” jeonghan tells you, and cheol laughs as he hears you dramatically whine, “hannie!!”

once cheol takes a shower, he pulls on the clothes he brought to sleep in and suddenly feels too self aware. he’s in someone else’s home. he’s in your home, your’s and jeonghan’s. he shouldn’t have a space here. he shouldn’t feel as comfortable as he does. he definitely shouldn’t be sharing a bed with you two tonight, but as if jeonghan knew, he’s standing at the door, calling softly, “come on cheol, y/n keeps whining that you’re not in bed yet.”

“she gets needy when she’s tired,” cheol points out, and jeonghan nods enthusiastically.

“i know,” he agrees. “but it’s kinda sweet, isn’t it?”

“jeonghan?” cheol says quietly, and his friend steps into the room to hear him better. “thank you. for trusting me. with her. with this.”

“sure,” he nods, visibly nervous, but not for the reasons cheol assumes. “i mean, you’re the expert here, really. i just. i’m glad you were up for it. she really liked it. i..really liked it.”

cheol is about to say something else when his phone ringing stops him. he chuckles and holds it up for jeonghan to see, who rolls his eyes. cheol answers, speaking loud enough for you to hear him down the hall. “what do you want?”

“is jeonghan with you?” you ask, and cheol hums confirmation. then they both hear you yelling from the bedroom, “then come back here!!!”

“i’m getting water, do you need anything?” jeonghan asks as they both leave the guest room.

“i’m good,” cheol waves him off, and jeonghan says he’ll be right back. cheol walks back to the bedroom, stopping in the doorway. you’re on your phone, but you let it fall to your chest when you hear a presence at the door. “hey. jeonghan’s getting water.”

“ok,” you reply, scooting over to make room for him on your side of the bed. “come lay down.”

“is it against the rules if i kiss you goodnight?” cheol asks jokingly, but you shake your head no, and jeonghan adds from the doorway, “no, it would actually be kinda rude if you didn’t.” cheol watches jeonghan walk around him, placing a glass of water on your nightstand. he kneels on the bed to reach your lips, kissing you softly before he walks around to his side of the bed, leaving you to look at cheol expectantly. he bashfully gets on the bed, on instinct grabbing you by the waist as he lays down. he looks at you before leaning in, kissing you softly and whispering good night before he pulls away again.

“night cheollie,” you whisper back, reaching for jeonghan behing you. you manage to pull his arm around your chest, tucking it under your own arm so his hand is at your chest. you press a kiss to his knuckles and whisper, “night hannie,” and you knock out pretty soon after that.

“are you gonna turn the light off?” jeonghan asks, and cheol notices he’s been watching him. your head is so low on the pillows that jeonghan can stare directly at cheol, and he watches as his friend turns around to flip the light off. cheol returns, finding jeonghan’s eyes still watching him.

“you waiting for a goodnight kiss or something?” cheol teases, and jeonghan shakes his head.

“not unless you want one,” he challenges, and cheol stares back, mind obviously somewhere else. “what’s wrong?”

“why her?” he asks quietly. “why did you start dating y/n, of all people? i’m happy for you, please don’t think i’m not, but...it hurt, finding that out. it hurt from both sides. so..why?”

“because i missed you,” jeonghan whispers back, something sad in his voice. “i think we both did, and something about this, about us, just made it seem like you were here.”

“oh.”

“yeah.”

“anymore questions?”

“not right now, no,” cheol shakes his head, hair falling into his eyes. “but it’s...good to know.”

“we can talk about it more tomorrow,” jeonghan says, situating himself so he’s more comfortable. he closes his eyes before he says, “you need to rest cheol.”

“yeah,” he sighs, knowing he’s got too many thoughts floating around for that to be a possibility. “night jeonghan.”

you wake up in the morning to sounds of snores. usually it’s just jeonghan’s soft, airy snores you wake up to, but today it’s like there’s a thunderstorm happening. that’s when you remember cheol, and as if on cue, his arms tighten around your waist and pull you closer to his chest. jeonghan’s face was laying on your shoulder, so he falls slightly and wakes himself up. he blinks up at you a few times, smiling when he finds you staring back.

“morning baby,” he whispers.

“morning my love,” you reply, and he kisses along your shoulder. “how’d you sleep?”

“good,” he nods. “i didn’t wake up at all, which is surprising with snore master over there.”

“i can hear you,” cheol grumbles. “go back to sleep.”

“no,” you and jeonghan say in unison, and cheol groans.

“you’re annoying.” you roll over so you can wrap your arms around cheol, jeonghan grabbing onto your waist and propping his head on your shoulder. cheol peeks an eye at you both and says, “you’re annoying. but kinda cute too.”

“who, me or hannie?” you ask, and cheol pretends to think about it.

“both?”

“sweet,” jeonghan smiles, kissing your shoulder again as he slides out of bed. “i’m making coffee. you gotta get up if you want any.”

“how long did it take him to figure that one out?” cheol asks while you watch jeonghan get dressed.

“like the second date?” you guess, and jeonghan nods to confirm. you look back at cheol and say, “he’s pretty smart. he also learned not to interrupt me when i’m reading like way earlier than you.”

“no fair, i told him that,” cheol pouts, and jeonghan whines back that he wouldn’t remember something like that. they bicker back and forth, cheol’s pout getting more and more pronounced. you lean forward and kiss him mid-whine, stilling nervously with your lips still on his. you look around and find jeonghan watching you, and he shrugs.

“if you weren’t gonna shut him up i was,” he says as he walks out the door. “no more kissing without me though, i’ll feel left out!”

“so he’s ok with us kissing,” cheol smiles at you, and you smack his shoulder.

“we fucked last night, yeah he’s fine with us kissing.”

“well! that was last night,” cheol starts, fiddling with your hair like he always did when he was unsure of what to say next.

“what’s wrong?” you ask, and he looks up at you sadly.

“i can’t leave,” he whispers. “i don’t...i can’t be without you again.”

“cheollie,” you sigh, threading your hand through his hair. “let’s go talk about it, ok? you won’t lose us again, i promise.”

cheol follows you like a lost puppy into the kitchen. he nods politely when you ask if he wants coffee, and his heart flips when you hand him a mug made exactly how he likes it. jeonghan’s got yours ready, so you all stand around the kitchen drinking quietly. you’re staring at cheol, and his eyes keep nervously flicking over to jeonghan. finally you turn and reach for jeonghan’s hand.

“hannie, i have a question,” you start. jeonghan grabs your hand in his and kisses it before telling you to go on. “is it ok if cheol stays a few more days?”

“a few more days?” he asks, looking to cheol for confirmation. he doesn’t want to meet jeonghan’s eyes, but when he does, he relaxes instantly. that thing cheol couldn’t read last night is back. the way jeonghan’s looking at him right now is the same way jeonghan looks at you. that gives him enough confidence to nod, clearing his throat as he says, “yeah, um, i could stay in the guest room? but. i was wondering. if we could maybe...”

“date?” jeonghan finishes. “like, the three of us?”

“maybe?” cheol squeaks out.

“sure,” jeonghan nods, looking to you and then back to cheol. “you wanna go out today?”

after a quick breakfast at home, you all get ready to run some errands before the actual “date” jeonghan claims to have planned. in reality it’s just dinner and a movie, his treat, but he keeps talking it up like it’s gonna be the best night ever. and maybe it will be. you never knew you could feel so loved, but you realize now that being with jeonghan and cheol gives you more than enough. you happily watch your boys argue over the best snacks at the grocery store, cheol swearing up and down that he knows what you like best while jeonghan argues that maybe your tastes have changed over the years. they’re both right, though. you like both. all. put everything in the cart, boys included. you’ve never been happier, and seeing the two of them together shows you how much they care for each other, too.

one of the stops on your list of errands was, surprise, shopping for a new outfit. you needed something to wear for a big investor’s dinner coming up, and it was funny to watch the boys bicker over who would pay for your dress. it was also very distracting and borderline disrespectful to have them comment on every piece you tried on, their comments getting bolder and both men getting antsier the longer you sat them through this torture. you told them you were doing one final sweep of the store, hoping to find something that really jumps out, and when you return you push them both into separate changing rooms to try on some pieces you found with your boys in mind. it gives you a moment alone to try on the last dress and admire it without any heckling, but when jeonghan steps out of his dressing room he lets out a low whistle.

“you look hot as fuck, baby,” he tells you, arms wrapping around your waist and his head falling to your shoulder. his hands drag across your stomach, admiring the beading, and he tries moving a sneaky hand up beneath your chest. the sound of cheol coming out of his dressing room diverts your attention, and you make grabby hands for him to join you in front of the mirror.

there you stand, smiling proudly at your boys. you look gorgeous, and they look...confused? cheol looks at himself in the mirror, then at jeonghan, then turns to you and asks, “did you make us try on the same outfit?”

“what?” you laugh, pulling jeonghan from behind you so he can stand at your side. with both of them on display, now it’s easy to see that you gave them the same clothes. you’re almost drooling at the way that they both effortlessly make a pair of slacks and a button up look so sexy. you grab their hands closest to you, swinging them as the boys stare at their reflection.

“his thighs look better than mine,” jeonghan points out.

“sure, but your clavicle is very tantalizing,” you tease, kissing his cheek. when you turn back to the mirror, you see jeonghan’s blush and give his hand an extra squeeze.

“why’d you do this?” cheol pouts, still looking at the three of you in the mirror. “i feel silly.”

“sorry, i’ve just always wanted two boyfriends,” you start out, “because i want to dress them like twins.”

1K notes · View notes

carakook · 2 months

Text

Bloom. °˖✧✿✧˖°

"You didn't seem to think so ten minutes ago when I was fucking your pretty little brains out, or any of the other times for that matter. What's with the change of heart? You suddenly feel guilty?"

→ Chapters list ←

⚘Intro

⚘1. Wilt.

🔞For Mature Audiences Only🔞

╔══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╗

⚘Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x fem!reader

⚘Synopsis: Y/N realizes tonight that she can no longer handle the guilt. She wants things with Jungkook that seem impossible given their situation. As much as it hurts, this will be the last time she sleeps with Jungkook… that’s what she thinks, anyway.

⚘Genre:Forbidden love

⚘Word count: 5K+

⚘Warnings: 18+ for mature audiences only, MDNI, rough sex, mentions of hate sex (but not actual hate sex), emotional, mentions of cheating, arguing (sort of), sad Jungkook (def needs a warning no one wants JK sad), ass slapping, hair pulling, jealousy, breakup (sort of?), let me know if I missed anything.

⚘Disclaimer: This story in no way reflects the characters of those who are mentioned. It is pure fiction and for entertainment purposes only. Please don’t take it seriously. Nothing is real in this story.

⚘A/N:Chapter one is out! Starts off a bit emotional right off the bat lol but I hope you enjoy it. Can’t wait to release more chapters! Thank you for reading. 🥰

╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ :

♪ Stuck with Me - The Neighborhood

♪ Eyes Don’t Lie - Isabel LaRosa

♪ Run - Joji

✧━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━✧

Bliss.

That's what you feel when you're with him. For example, right now. Pure bliss.

The bliss is enough to make you forget about the guilt. The shame. The absolute sin that you're both committing.

He grunts out as he stalls his movements, "Fuck, baby, I need you to be still, I wanna take my time. Gonna cum too fast if you keep doing that."

This pleases you, so you slowly push yourself into him. He has you laying on your stomach with your ass perched up, face smooshed into his pillow, his favorite position. He loves the view. He loves your ass. He loves your body and how, in moments like this, it's his and only his.

As you push into him, you wiggle a little bit, regardless of how much your legs shake from the sensation. He's deep. So deep. Deeper than any other guy has ever been able to get.

He throws his head back, eyes rolling back with it, and he grunts almost as if he's in pain as his entire body tenses. He's close. You can feel him twitching. You can't help but let out a little laugh, pleased with yourself.

Oh, but he doesn't like that very much.

He grabs the back of your neck forcefully, leaning himself onto you, and pressing his back firmly against your own. He tilts your head so that his lips are touching your ear, and he grunts again as he buries himself even deeper into you, which seems impossible.

"If you wanted me to fuck you like I hate you, you could've just asked."

Without even giving you a moment to respond, he pushes your face into the pillow, muffling any noise that you make. He slams into you forcefully, so hard that the headboard of his bed slams into the wall. He keeps his hand on your head, ensuring that you don't move. He doesn't relent, as he slams himself into you at such a fast pace, that your entire body is vibrating. He's never fucked you like this before. And you love it.

You couldn't make a sound even if you wanted to, you're left speechless.

It doesn't take him long to come undone, and you don't mind, because he already made you cum three times. You're sure that you've been going at it for nearly two hours now, a mixture of heated kissing, grinding, and teasing. He fingered you and gave you head, and you had already came once around his cock, so you think that he's earned it.

He empties inside of you, painting your walls white as hot ropes of cum shoot into you. The feeling is unlike any other. Even if he isn't yours, it feels like he is at this very moment. And you're his too. You always have been.

The twitching dies down, and he lays himself on top of you gently, making sure to pepper the back of your neck with soft kisses.

He lays there for a moment, catching his breath, as you do the same. Despite being sober, a drunken smile crosses his face, his dimples on show. One of the things you love most about him.

You, on the other hand, come down from your high fairly quickly. The moment he disconnects himself from you is when reality hits you every time.

The guilt surfaces.

You've never not felt guilty about what you're both doing.

Recently, however, it's been prominent. Too prominent. At first, you were easily able to shoo the guilt away. It all started so easily, and things just happened, before you even knew what situation you were putting yourself in.

Once you found out that he was married, it ate you alive, but it never stopped you. Because you're selfish and shameless. You love him. And sometimes, love is a hell of a drug, causing you to do stupid things.

You grew to love him a bit too quickly, at first it was just fun, but all it took was a bouquet of roses and his concerned face the day after he went a bit too rough on you in the bedroom, for you to fall in love with him.

You didn't mind him being rough. It was the first time a man had ever handled you in such a way, and you fucking loved it.

But Jungkook is an overthinker.

After you were done that night, he saw the tears staining your face. You assured him they weren't sad tears, you couldn't even control them, you had just experienced such sensations that overwhelmed your brain and your body, crying and cumming seemed to have been the release of those sensations.

He showed up with those roses and puppy dog eyes, totally out of the blue, he hadn't even texted you before arriving. He was so concerned. He himself looked as if he might cry, and you couldn't help but think it was too cute.

He hugged you so tightly that you'd think he was afraid you were gonna float away. He apologized profusely and said that he couldn't get your tears out of his head after he left. He felt terrible, no matter how much you reassured him. He even had a nightmare about it.

It took an entire hour of him sitting on your couch to convince him that you were, in fact, ok, and had never felt better. Although embarrassing to admit, you explained to him that you've never felt more pleasure out of anything. And you want him to do it again. He finally gave in and accepted your explanation, but still apologized once more.

That night you didn't sleep together. It was the first time you guys had hung out without having sex. You watched movies, ate junk food, and talked about stupid shit all night long.

That's when you realized you loved him. And you were fucked.

You blame it on your fucked up brain. Daddy issues. Abandonment issues. Attachment issues. Girly things.

You shouldn't love this man. You shouldn't even like him. You'd think finding out he was married would have been enough to get you to run the fuck away from him.

But it didn't.

You loved him so desperately that you decided to live with it. Pretended that it was ok. Because when you were with him, it was oh so easy to forget.

The moment that he left though, that's when it ate you alive.

Especially recently.

Your visits used to be sporadic, spontaneous even. No more than once every week, usually two. It was easy to push it away after the first few days of being without him again. Then you started craving him, causing all of the guilt and coherent thought to completely leave, or hide maybe, which would make it easier to give in to your selfish desires.

Recently, though, he's been an animal. Wanting to see you constantly. Several times a week. As if he was addicted.

You didn't complain at first. You were able to replace the guilt with pride, loving the fact that he wanted you that badly. He was willing to make whatever excuses he did to come and see you.

But it has proven to make the guilt worse.

You find yourself awake at night, wondering what excuse he gave his wife, whether or not she's becoming suspicious of his sudden and often absence. If it were you, it'd be clear that something wasn't quite right. Then again, you don't know how good of a liar Jungkook really is or isn't, because you never ask these questions.

This leads your thoughts to a dark place, wondering if she even loves him like you do, does she take care of him like you do, does she kiss him like you do, does she touch him like you do, does he think about you when he's inside of her...

Jealousy plagues you when you have no right to be jealous. He isn't yours. The ring on his finger signifies the fact that he belongs to someone else.

You feel bitter, towards a woman that you don't even know.

You've never seen pictures of her, you've never asked about her, you don't even know her name. You don't know what kind of life she lives. If she's happy. Yet, you still wish nothing more than to be her.

Love. It's fucked up. Especially when you fall in love with someone out of reach.

Since he has made his frequent visits a habit, you've been slowly becoming comfortable with the idea of calling things off. You love him. You do. But you know that he will never be yours, and although he so often proclaims his love for you, you just can't believe him. If he loved you, you wouldn't be his dirty little secret.

Dirty. That's how you feel.

So, you made a vow to yourself before coming to his second apartment (the one that's so kindly reserved for your secret encounters), that it'll be the last time.

Comforting, in a way, that you'll be able to leave the guilt of what you're doing behind. Or you hope so anyway.

Yet, the dread that you feel from the fact that this means he'll no longer be in your life, makes you feel almost as if your heart will explode into tiny little pieces and result in your ultimate demise.

Death would be easier.

He has no idea about the thoughts going through your head right now. He's still coming down from his high, looking as if he's never felt happier. He has no idea of the bomb you're about to drop on him, and you're entirely terrified of what his reaction may be. Will he care? Will he freak out? Will he fight for you?

As if he can read your thoughts, he looks at you with concerned eyes, moving your hair out of your face as he moves to lay next to you, instead of on top of you.

"Was I too rough?"

You smile sadly at him, "No. No such thing."

He smiles so innocently at you as if he didn't just almost break the bed fucking you into oblivion.

His smile quickly fades as he sees the frown on your face that you so desperately tried to contain.

"Baby, what's wrong? Talk to me."

You glance at him, biting your lip nervously, trying to figure out how to bring this up. How to end it.

Yet, you can't help yourself. There are so many questions in your head, questions that you have no business to ask. But still, you're curious, and you blurt out before even giving it a second thought, "What have you been telling her? Since we've been seeing each other so often."

This catches him off guard, the hand that was cradling your face so tenderly as you let yourself get lost in your head, suddenly tenses. He slowly pulls it away and turns his body so that he's lying on his back, now staring at the ceiling. Avoiding looking at you.

His guard is up.

"Told her I have some projects at work that require extra attention. Why?"

He still doesn't look at you. Your heart crumbles.

"Don't you feel... guilty?"

He sighs and closes his eyes, purses his lips, and lets out a deep breathe that sounds labored. He props himself up on his elbow and looks down at you, his gaze remains loving, but guarded.

"What's with the questions?"

You blink at him, now you're the one who's caught off guard by his cold response. He feels guilty. Behind that tiny spec of love in his eyes, is nothing but guilt. And now worry.

He thinks you're gonna tell her.

You quickly shut down those thoughts, "Stop overthinking Kook. I'm not gonna say anything. This is a secret for me too, you know. I'd never wanna out myself as someone's fucking mistress."

You can't hide your irritation at his distrust. You don't blame him, but also, you aren't the only one in the wrong here. It takes two to commit this type of sin. He isn't innocent. And you hate knowing that all you'll ever be is his secret. A secret that he'll never cherish enough to tell or share with someone.

He furrows his brows, suddenly looking angry, "Mistress? What the fuck?"

You glance at him and scoff, "That's what I am, right? I'm your mistress. Side piece. Sneaky link. Take your pick, Jeon."

That pisses him off even further. He hates it when you refer to him as Jeon. As if you're his business partner. It feels cold. It feels wrong. He's always been Kook, Kookie, and sometimes even Koo when you can't fully get his name out while he's railing you. Jeon is reserved for impersonal encounters. Or frustration, in this situation.

He looks at you as if you've slapped him in the face, becoming animated in his frustration as he speaks, his eyebrows scrunch up as he speaks, and he sounds a bit whiny, "You aren't my mistress, don't ever call yourself that again. I love you. Fuck."

This earns him another scoff, more like a laugh, "Ha!" Is the sound that you let out, and he glares at you even further. He's nearly pouting at this point, and it takes all of your self-control not to smoosh his cheeks and kiss his face all over. It pisses you off that he can be so cute when you are feeling like such shit. You channel that anger into the problem at hand.

Your guard is up too. The mention of love will quickly bring the walls up, separating you two from each other.

"Love me? You don't love me."

He shakes his head, almost as if he's certain he heard you incorrectly. His eyes blink rapidly, and he stares at the wall with a pout on his face, thinking to himself, "Surely she didn't just say that?" It takes a few moments of him looking at you like a lost puppy for him to respond.

"Where is this coming from Y/N?"

"Do you love her too?"

You don't want to hear the answer. But you know that you need to.

His tongue darts out of his mouth, licking his bottom lip before he bites it. A clear sign of nervousness. He's overthinking. Considering his words carefully.

He sighs before he responds, tilting his head to one side as if it'll help him understand your sudden cold mood, "Can you explain to me what the sudden change is? I don't understand why you're asking these kinds of questions all of a sudden."

He avoided the question.

Your anger rises.

"Would you leave her for me?"

You make sure to look him directly in his eyes, wanting to relay how absolutely serious you're being. You won't back down. You feel that you selfishly deserve answers after everything. Even if you're guilty.

"Y/N, you know that's not an easy question. I can't just leave my wife. I've built a life with her. Shit isn't easy."

Not a straight answer, but it is a straight punch in the gut.

The hurt disguised as anger reaches the surface, overflowing, leaking into every crack of your being.

Enough.

You hastily get off of the bed, picking up pieces of your clothes to quickly dress yourself. You feel too vulnerable. You want to hide. You need to cover yourself in some way.

"Y/N, what is happening? Talk to me please."

You don't answer. He's looking at you as if he's silently panicking. As if his entire world is about to come crashing down, and he's having to watch. He doesn't know what to do. And he can feel what's coming. What you promised yourself would happen tonight.

"I want to stop this, Jungkook."

He stills. As if he's becoming a statue. One look at him, and you second guess whether or not you're Medusa, and fear that he may soon crumble into dust.

"Why?" He nearly whispers, and his voice cracks, and oh fuck, it takes everything in you to not run over and cradle him as if he's a baby. Your baby.

But he isn't. That's the problem here.

"Because, Kook, I can't live with the guilt. I can't live with being someone's mistress. I want to get married too, at some point. I need to move on and live my life, stay open for whoever is gonna make me theirs one day."

You didn't just punch him in the gut, you took a dagger and dug it into his heart, twisted it around, and left it there. He's hurt. So hurt. He wishes that you were Medusa because then he could crumble into dust instead of having to watch you walk out of his life for good. Instead of having to endure the consequences of his mistake. A mistake that he, himself, would never ever call a mistake. Maybe a tragedy, or a twist of fate, but never a mistake.

But he's like you and disguises it with anger. It's easier that way.

"You fucking serious? What do you not understand about the fact that you're not my mistress? I love you, Y/N."

As you button up your jeans, you notice that he's now standing. He's perched himself against the dresser, staring at you with an intensity that makes you nearly uncomfortable. As if he can see into the depths of your very soul. Something you do not want right now.

"No, Jungkook, you do not love me. If you loved me, things would be different. You're married, for fucks sake, and all of this is so wrong."

Jungkook is a sweetheart. Always has been. Despite his rough hands in the bedroom, never once has he not been gentle with you, even when you're snarky with him. But one thing about him is that he's petty. He can be immature when he's provoked. When he feels hurt or rejected. Like a big man-child, he acts out.

"You didn't seem to think so ten minutes ago when I was fucking your pretty little brains out, or any of the other times for that matter. What's with the change of heart? You suddenly feel guilty?"

You snap.

"I've always fucking felt guilty Jungkook! Always! It eats me alive. I can't continue doing this knowing that you're not only married but will never love me the same way that I love you. It's going to ruin me. I need to get on with my life."

He's closer now, as you button up your blouse. You ignore him. You can't bear to look at him. You want to get this over with.

"Y/N, please look at me."

He says it almost as if it's a plea for forgiveness. As if he's begging. So soft that he's nearly whispering. He regrets his outburst, not even a minute after it happened. He's too sweet. He has too big of a heart. A heart that is not yours.

But you don't look at him. You can't. You can't risk the fact that one look at him may just change your mind.

"Look. At. Me."

No longer a beg, now a demand. But you still don't look at him. He probably assumes you're being stubborn, but in reality, you're fucking scared to look at him right now. He makes you so damn weak.

You start to bend down to grab your shoes, but he grabs your arm, forcing you to face him. His touch is firm, urging you to comply, but still gentle. And when you still don't look at him, he grabs your chin in the same way, firm yet gentle, forcing you to look at him.

Don't back down.

"I love you."

But then you see it. As you look into his eyes, it mirrors your own. He loves you just as much as you love him. Eyes don’t lie. It's clear as day. Yet, all logic in your brain tells you that he's lying. How can he possibly love you when this is your relationship? Regardless of the time you spend together after the sex, you wonder if he'd even come around if sex wasn't involved.

So you push him away.

You yank your chin out of his grasp. And you spit out, "You have no idea what love is. You fuck someone else behind your wife's back. That's not love. Not for either of us. You're selfish."

You've once again hurt him. You continue taking that dagger that you left in his heart, stabbing it over and over again. Yet, no matter how many times you defile his heart, it is still beating for you.

He didn't expect this sort of reaction out of you. He didn't know what to expect, actually. He hoped that his words, and the sincerity in his gaze, would convince you. Even if you did leave. He didn't want you to leave thinking that you were no more than a good fuck to him. Because even if you don't know, you're so much more, and he has no idea how to explain it.

What you said really hurt him. He, himself, doesn't quite understand why he's put himself in this situation. He does love his wife. Or he thought that he did. Ever since you came along, he isn't so sure.

Jungkook has never cheated on anyone, even in his younger and more irresponsible days. Loyalty was always important to him. He'd rather break his partner's heart by leaving them than break their heart by cheating and making them feel as if they're not enough. Although that's exactly what he's doing with you.

He's a great liar. Something that you've always wondered about. So great that his wife is none the wiser… or maybe she just doesn’t care enough to notice.

Ever since he met you, something blossomed inside of him. It's as if there was a seed planted in his heart, all of the women that he had ever been with nurtured it and tried to get it to grow. Some did the opposite, causing it to get buried deeper inside of him and stay stagnant. But, as soon as you came along, it sprouted. A tiny leaf. A new feeling. Slowly, as you spent time together, regardless of how impure what you did was, this leaf bloomed into a beautiful flower. The petals are decorated in the various shades of you. Claiming his heart in a way that you aren't even aware of.

Not even his wife could do that.

And he's married to her. He has been for two years now. He's been in a relationship with her for four. They met freshman year of college, and the rest was history. He assumed that would be the end of it. His happily ever after.

But, he never bloomed. He didn't even know that he could bloom. Didn't know that he needed to bloom. He just thought his wife was it for him.

Until he met you.

He doesn't want to let you go, but he doesn't exactly know how to keep you either. There are options, there are always options. But none are viable. None give him a clear conscience, and regardless of how eagerly you asked him earlier, he knows that if he did leave his wife for you, you would feel guilty the entirety of your relationship. There is no good ending for you two. Every single option ends in you two living with guilt for the rest of your lives. Which ultimately would end in the downfall of you both. Chaos. Disaster. Two worlds colliding that shouldn't have to begin with. The end of the fucking world.

He doesn't want that, no matter how tempting the thought of leaving his wife is. No matter how tempting being with you forever sounds. No matter how tempting the idea of being the one to marry you one day sounds. He doesn't want you to have to live with the guilt of his own selfish decisions. He just wants you to bloom.

His wife isn't perfect. In fact, she's kind of a bitch. But he's always been able to handle her. She grew up rich, privileged, and a bit stuck up. Jungkook had an average childhood and was a bit of a delinquent in his teenage years. She clung on to the bad boy in him. Yet, she still treats him as if he's a child.

He was ok with this, didn't mind it at all… until he met you. You cared for him in a way that she never did. Regardless of this little secret being built upon a foundation of lust and infidelity, you treated him as if he were your husband instead. You cooked for him, you took care of him whenever he was drunk or hungover, you checked on him if you felt something was wrong, and you did so many little things to show him how much you cared.

He remembered the time when he was so stressed at work that he gained a few pimples. He never got pimples. Regardless of how beautiful he is, he’s still human. He gets insecure. You hated that he didn't feel beautiful.

So, you invited him over that morning before he went to work. It was unlike you. You usually save your unholy acts for the dark. So he expected that you just missed his touch.

However, when he arrived early that morning, you did no such thing. You greeted him with a big breakfast composed of pancakes, eggs, bacon, and strawberry syrup that you homemade. Something that his wife never did. She never cooked, always ordered takeout, or nagged him to cook.

After the breakfast, which was filled with innocent conversation and banter, you took him to your bathroom. You knew that his pimples were bothering him. He texted you a selfie of it the night before, followed by "I look like a fucking teenage boy :(" Something so human, so natural, caused him to doubt himself in so many ways. He held himself to such a high standard that something as simple as an inevitable stress-induced pimple made him feel less than worthy.

So, after he became stubborn and told you that he didn't want you to touch or look at them, you reassured him to trust you. And he did. So easily. You decorated his pimples with tiny little star patches, patches that you reserved for yourself and your really bad days because they were expensive as fuck on your tight budget, but he was more than worth it. He was hesitant, as he saw what you were doing. But then he looked in the mirror, and he didn't even see the pimples, he didn't even care about the girly and childish stars covering his chin and temple. He saw you, and the way you lit up as you saw him.

Inevitably, the morning ended with you two having a quickie. But it wasn't lust-filled as usual. It was something more. Something sweet.

He arrived at work no longer feeling insecure. He kept the stars on his face, regardless of how goofy they felt, they were a reminder of you. How you saw him, how you wanted to reassure him, how you wanted to protect him. Even from himself.

He had such a good day at work that day. Although, as soon as he got home and his wife saw the stars, she scolded him. Told him that they weren't manly. They made him look ridiculous and childish. Made him take them off. But it didn't matter, because the flower had bloomed fully that day.

He wanted your flower to bloom.

He wanted to make your flower bloom.

But he knew that he couldn't exactly do that when he was married. Unlike you, his flower, the one claimed by you, was surrounded by a fence. A fence composed of his wife.

Maybe a cage is more accurate.

He knew that your flower would never fully bloom as long as that cage was in place.

He knew that he needed to let you go, for your flower to bloom, no matter how much it hurt him.

So, he did. Or he tried to anyway.

He cleared his throat, fighting his tears. There were some truths behind your words, but the one prominent lie is the fact that you think he doesn't love you. He does. But he'll never convince you with the nature of your relationship.

"I... I understand. You're right. We should stop."

Your heart cracked. Your flower wilted.

He didn't deny it. He didn't fight. And a part of you was expecting him to. But you know how selfish and naive that is.

You say nothing. You grab your purse after putting on your shoes. You head for the door and hesitate as you feel his sad eyes boring into the back of your head.

You don't look at him, but you quietly bid your goodbye.

"Goodbye Jungkook. Take care of yourself... love your wife more."

And you walk. Nearly run. Desperate to escape the suffocating smell of his apartment.

He follows you but says nothing. He stops as you reach the front door. But he doesn't stop you.

Quickly, you open his front door and slam it shut, and then you freeze. You don't know why you linger, but you do. Possibly waiting for him to rush out, profess his love to you, and offer to leave his wife so that you can live happily ever after. Hope, that you have no right to hang on to.

Instead, you're greeted with a few seconds of silence. And then a bang. And then a crash. And then a scream. He's losing it. And you know you've lost him. He won't fight. He won't beg you to be his. He's lashing out because he knows that he can't.

So you take a deep breath, and you walk away. Feeling numb. Feeling alone. Feeling empty.

Dirty.

✧━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━✧

#bts #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagines #bts x you #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfiction #smut #18+ only #mature audiences only #mdni

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greenglowsgold · 10 months

Text

The List.

Based on the Cass Apocalyptic Series.

The first part of this has been rumbling around in my brain ever since that Super Sad Scene a month ago, but yesterday’s update gave me the other side of the coin, so to speak, and finally pulled it all together.

@somerandomdudelmao thanks for the fuel, friend

-----

Donatello’s days have become a series of checklists, as of late.

No, that’s not exactly true. His days have always been about lists: what he’s done, what he can delegate to someone else, what still needs doing. But these days he’s been doing less and listing more, piling tasks from the first category onto the second as fast as he can manage, hoping he has enough time to empty the queue.

The full catalog is written out in a series of files, reorganized for accessibility to the layperson and meticulously up-to-date as of yesterday. He meant to run through it again this morning, ensure all the relevant instruction manuals were attached to each item and double check his protocols, but he wasn’t… he couldn’t…

He’s going to die tonight.

It irritates him, his own miscalculation of the timing more than the stark presence of his oncoming demise. The latter has been inevitable for quite some time, long enough that he’s gotten used to the idea. But he thought he had another week or two, and he doesn’t like being proven wrong. He wonders if his brothers know.

Probably not. They know it’s bad now, obviously, because they’ve piled him with pillows and blankets and surrounded him on all sides, and Leo has finally gone quiet. But they trust him, they’ve always trusted him, even when they shouldn’t, so if he swears he’ll last a few more days, they’ll believe him. He thinks. He’s pretty sure. If they knew it was tonight, he doubts they would choose to sleep through it. Donnie thinks about waking them up, but only for a moment. He’d like to say it’s a noble act, to leave them in peace a little bit longer, but the truth is he’s just too fucking tired to move.

There’s something settled bone-deep in his chest, a heaviness that sits on him like a stone, a peine forte et dure pressing him down and down, stopping his voice and his breath and his heart. He wonders if this is what dying usually feels like, or if it’s unique to the Kraang. Raph would know.

He cranes his neck to the right, to catch Raph’s face out of the corner of his eye. Raph’s working eye is half-open, staring down at the floor. Donnie could ask him. (He won’t. Let him fall asleep.) The movement of his head is so slight it doesn’t even catch Raph’s attention. He’s too tired for anything more. He’s so goddamn tired.

His lists are out of reach at the moment, with his physical interfaces back in the lab and his ninpo locked behind a wall of oh-god-it-sounds-too-exhausting-to-even-try, but he memorized them all long ago.

Raphael: Maintenance (delegated to Casey, who has it well in hand). Plans (tucked away in a dedicated folder, long term, but someday they’ll have the materials, and Raph will have a proper body again, someday). Honey (yes, he passed that along last week).

Raph has access to the tracking programs, so he can keep an eye on everyone himself, even when Donnie can’t pull up locations or vitals for him anymore. He has his own space in the base once more, somewhere to close a door when he needs to (he insists he doesn’t, but Donnie isn’t a fool). He has more excuses to spend time with Casey, who’s taking over his upkeep. Donnie hopes it fills in some gaps for both of them.

He runs through the list, double checks each item. It’s his last chance to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything important.

He looks down, finds Mikey.

There’s a stockpile of the anti-aging serum in his safe, the formula in his database, plans for the permanent solution clearly labeled. As long as they have his lab, his systems, Mikey will be as young as his years. He’s walked him through the greenhouse, even if most of it is controlled by the computer system. Mikey misses the world being green; it’ll do him good to spend more time around the plants. He has his tea, his candles. He has Draxum, who by now should have received a — mildly — threatening message warning him not to pull any disappearing acts anytime soon. He has their ancestors, just a short call away.

Donnie’s sure Mikey will call on him soon. He doesn’t plan to stray far.

Up a bit. To the left. Leo.

The arm — Leo knows how to take care of it, as does Casey.

The passwords — reset, something even Leo will be able to remember without resorting to blackmail.

The schedule — reshuffled for the next few days, he’ll have a hard enough time sleeping as it is.

The photos — everything they have, even the embarrassing ones. He even managed a couple of prints, and one precious shot from their pre-apocalypse days, something for Leo to tuck into a pouch and carry with him, when they’re not around.

Raph, Mikey, Leo. He doesn’t think he’s missed anything. Donnie lets his head fall back, too exhausted to hold it up any longer.

Is it enough?

His mind stretches further out. He’s unraveling.

What about April? Her prescription is up to date, they just checked a month ago. She has the latest in his combat tech, which has kept her safe in the field this long, so he has no reason to think it will falter now. He’s leaving her a few extra pieces, since he won’t be able to use them anymore. Leo will find the time for a movie night once in a while, he’s certain, even if his taste in Jupiter Jim movies is horrendous. They still have coffee; he’d die before he let that particular supply run out. He will, actually.

Casey. Fuck, Donnie’s gonna miss his birthday. But he did plan for this, his protocols will kick in. The mask is finished, everything is in place. He’s reconfigured his workstations, fit them for a tiny human instead of a seven-foot turtle. Casey has a better head for mechanics than any of his brothers ever did. Kid likes to be useful, so Donnie’s left him as much use as he can. He’s taught him everything Casey can learn and left instructions for more, when he’s a little older and wiser. His family will take care of him, they’ll make sure he gets there.

The base. It has to hold, to give them somewhere safe. The infrastructure is sound, and they have people to manage repair work. Supplies are decent, the most critical items in stock, everything that can be made renewable is. Their allies — Leo handles interpersonal issues and leadership, but Donnie’s checked the list with a pragmatist’s eye, left notes and rankings for priority. Security is the largest concern, but he’s spent nearly half his time with his assistants since his self-diagnosis (he could have spent it with his family), running them through the programs and adjustments, trying to bring them up to somewhere in the realm of his own expertise (a fool’s errand, but still). They’ve been rigorously instructed, they understand that the little things like sleep are secondary concerns. It has to hold.

Is it enough? For them to be okay?

He’s done everything he can. He can’t do any more. So it has to be enough.

Donnie blinks, and for a moment isn’t certain his eyes will open again at the end of it. But they do. At least one more time, they obey him.

Raph. Mikey. Leo. April. Casey. Home. He rolls back through the list. It’s his last chance. He can’t miss anything.

Mikey’s hand tightens unconsciously around his wrist, fingers meeting easily on either side. Donnie feels only the echo of the pressure.

Raph. Mikey. Leo. April. Casey. Home.

Something bright sparks at the edges of his vision before it fades. The last gasps of a dying brain, he supposes. Synapses firing one last time before they’re snuffed out.

Raph.

Mikey.

Leo.

April.

Casey.

Home.

Light.

There’s light.

It hurts.

He thought dying would stop the pain, but it’s risen to a fever pitch instead. His brother’s arms are gone, but the disease wraps around him in their place, consumes him. It rages like a wildfire, burning through his center until pieces start to flake away like ash.

Oh, this is what it does, what it was built for. The Kraang could have killed him in a lot of different ways. He’d wondered why they chose this one.

He hasn’t planned for it. This is something he didn’t even know to fear.

It’s bright and it hurts but it’s quiet as he crumbles, folds in on himself like a black hole in the utter silence of outer space. It’s quiet enough that the voice that breaks through does so clear as a bell.

His head turns to follow the sound, instinct. He’s lost half his field of vision, but what’s left is enough. He looks, and finds Casey.

Casey looks at him, at him, not the body. Donnie opens his mouth to ask a question — What are you doing here? How? Why? — but something else sloughs out instead. Not blood. He doesn’t have that anymore.

Casey calls his name once more and starts running.

Donnie’s questions fold back into his mind. His mouth clicks shut, he swallows back the putrid rot and pushes himself up. His arms are shattered but they’ll have to hold him. They have to. Because Casey is here and he needs something, which means Donnie missed something, which means he isn’t done.

His spirit disagrees with him, doesn’t see the logic. His arms don’t hold.

Casey reaches to catch him as he falls, and the touch ruptures him instead. He scatters. Into the air and the ground and Casey. For a moment, he’s just pieces, fumbling around and latching onto anything that welcomes them, and Casey does that. They flow into him. They’re him. They’re…

He’s…

Casey, he’s…

Donatello pulls himself back together. Most of himself, anyway. The infection hasn’t followed him but the damage persists. He’s run through with cracks and crevices, shaking bits away into infinity with every movement. But there’s more of him here than not.

Unexpectedly, Donnie is not gone. He’s still dead, but that’s fine, he planned for that one.

Casey has him now. He wraps himself around Donnie in layers, helps hold him together with a kind of sheer will that makes up for any lack of mystic knowledge in spades. Casey asks him to stay, and Donnie takes up the task like Sisyphus sizing up the hill. This time, this time I’ll do it right.

Even better, Casey has taken him to another time, one where all of Donnie’s long-term plans are now completely-fucking-reasonable plans. Casey’s going to fix it, so Donnie can fix everything else. Whatever else needs it. He hasn’t really asked. And he knows he’s missed something, but he doesn’t think too hard about what, not yet.

First thing’s first: he needs a body.

It’s so simple to accomplish that it seems like the universe is mocking him. Just a quick 1-2-3, ticking off the list. It feels almost stupid, like running back through the early levels of a video game after unlocking all the ultimate weapons and burning through enemies and obstacles, laughing, shit, did I used to think this was hard?

In no time at all, his own face has formed in front of him.

In no time at all, he’s gasping.

It’s only been a few hours since he last breathed air, but he’s missed it.

Another thing he’s missed? Functional musculature. Casey slams into him and Donnie is startled to find that it doesn’t knock him over. His arms and legs look like actual limbs again, not fragile little sticks disguising themselves as such. He stands, dragging Casey along without a second thought. The weight barely registers. It’s amazing.

The power trip is heady, but it only lasts a few minutes before reality kicks it in the ass and pulls him back down to earth.

We lost, Casey says.

They’re dead, Casey says.

It wasn’t enough, Casey does not say, but Donnie hears it just as clearly.

All those plans, the preparations, the precautions and protocols, they only borrowed a year or two before they fell apart. He sees the timeline spiral out before him, tighter and tighter until it collapses in on itself, rendered all the more insignificant from his own point of perception. He was alive yesterday. His family is dead today.

Everything he did, it wasn’t enough. Of course it wasn’t. He was stupid to think otherwise.

(Raph. Mikey. Leo. April. Casey. Casey’s still here. It was enough for him, at least.)

It cuts at him a little, to have been so wrong. But he’s strong again, now. He can take the wound. More importantly, he has another chance to get it right.

Donnie breathes. His chest expands smoothly, easily. The air doesn’t rattle in his lungs. He’s alive, he’s a genius, he can fix anything.

He pulls up a list.

#rottmnt #cass apocalyptic series #Rise of the TMNT #fic I write #*looks at the word count* haha. anyway. i'm normal.#Donnie's expressions when he looks at his family one last time are so fuckin good they're so clear #I looked at him and I was like 'oh cool I can literally read his mind'#which may or may not be true (you tell me) but holy shit was it effective #(please @god let the formatting of this post hold)

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ilyluffy · 9 months

Text

𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟒: 𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐤𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐤𝐢 。°。° 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ken kaneki x afab!reader

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut {minors + ageless blogs dni!! you’ll be blocked}

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: hard dom!kaneki, brat taming, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, pussy slapping, degradation, slut shaming, mentions of breeding, throat fucking, cum swallowing

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 0.5k+

“𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄’𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄?” ken snarls down at you. your brain has been turned to mush at this point. following multiple orgasms had you had no strength left in you to speak, much less act like a brat.

when you fail to respond a malicious laugh rises in ken’s throat. “that’s what i thought”.

by now you foolishly think that the lesson is over. the lesson ken promised to teach you when you started talking back to him earlier. with you being rendered into a drooling mess you believe that he should have no other reason to continue punishing you.

oh how wrong you were… his cock is still inside your spent out pussy so there’s nothing stopping him from starting to snap his hips again.

you let out an overstimulated sob when you feel his dick drag against your gummy walls. you can’t take anymore but ken doesn’t seem to care. in fact his palm comes down to slap against your tender clit in order to shut you up. your loud whining immediately shifts into a pathetic little whimper at the stinging sensation.

“stupid slut, if you didn’t want this you should have thought about that before misbehaving” ken growls, showing no sign of going easy on you. you thought at the very least he’d be tired after fucking you for hours. surely his pace should be a tiny bit slower, right? no, ken was fucking your so fast that it was like this was your first round.

all you can do is lay there and take it. your legs, which surely wouldn’t work by the end of this, tremble as they sit on ken’s shoulders. it’s hard to hear all of the degrading comments leaving the man’s lips with the wet noises coming from your cunt. it’s a result of your juices mixing in with his seed. if him calling you a dumb whore wasn’t enough to humiliate you then surely the sounds worthy of the fittest porn would.

“i’ll give you a break after i cum one last time but don’t expect me to breed you again. this time you’re gonna swallow” ken orders, showing you his version of mercy. it’s not like you're in a position to refuse so you nod your head in exhaustion.

with eyes lidded, you watch as ken uses your hole to his liking. you don’t have it in you to make anymore of a mess but that doesn’t matter because ken’s cock is starting to twitch inside of you. pulling out, he grabs a handful of your hair. yanking your face up to his cock, he shoves the whole thing past your lips. somehow you find the energy to suck as ken begins to fuck your throat.

“that’s a good little cumdump” he groans as his tip rams against the back of your throat. “fuck- cumming. make sure to drink it all”.

you do as your order, gagging as you attempt to gulp down all his semen as it’s released into your mouth. luckily because he’s already emptied his balls a couple times too, it isn’t much. just a few salty ropes.

once all he has to offer is in your stomach, ken pulls you off of his softening length. “alright i’m done” he assures you, allowing you to collapse back down onto the bed. “you can get some sleep”.

“not mad at me anymore?” you slur, having difficulty just forming a sentence.

ken nods as he runs a hand through his damp white hair. “i’m not mad. 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓 𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍’𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐃 𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆”.

2022–2023 © ilyluffy — do not repost or translate my work. likes, reblogs, and comments are welcome

#ken kaneki #tokyo ghoul #ken kaneki x reader #ken kaneki smut #tokyo ghoul x reader #tokyo ghoul smut #apollo writes ✎

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turtletaubwrites · 3 months

Note

Can you do a reader x Zoro where the reader has a sex dream about Ace and Zoro gets jealous

Thank you so much for the request! 🙏🏼😊 I've been wanting to write for Ace, so this is a little taste for now. I hope you enjoy it!

Just a Dream

Pairings: Zoro x Fem!Reader, Ace x Fem!Reader (just a little dream)

Word Count: 1288

Ao3 Link

Summary: You have a delicious dream about your captain's brother. Your boyfriend, the first mate, is not pleased when you wake up.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, 18+ Only, MDNI, Reader-Insert, Swearing, Smut, Established Relationship, Unprotected Sex (Don't Do That), Jealousy, Anger, Dom Zoro, Vaginal Fingering, Hair-Pulling, Rough Sex, Penis in Vagina Sex, Come Shot, Comeplay, Sex Dream, Possessive Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation

A/N: This one shot isn't part of my We've All Got Needs series. I hope you like it!

The cold night kept you up, so you left your tent shivering, heading toward the small fire.

“What’s wrong, sugar, the night too cold for ya?”

A gasp left your lips when you saw Luffy’s brother across the fire, tilting his head with a smirk.

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks, and your lips parted as Ace sauntered around the fire, sitting close enough to breathe along your cheek.

“I can warm ya up.”

His voice came out in a low rasp as he ghosted his lips along your neck.

“O-Okay…”

He chuckled, the sound making you shiver, the cold night already forgotten as Ace licked your collarbone, leaving kisses and bites on your skin.

Ace pulled back, smirking at you as he placed his hat on your head. The intense warmth of it traveled down as he sat back on his heels.

“What a pretty thing you are.”

He pushed you back onto your elbows and tugged your shorts down, the cold air hitting the wetness already dripping for him.

“Mm, so eager for me,” he teased, plunging one finger, then two into you. Everything was happening so fast, and you were overwhelmed, desperate for more.

“Ace, please…”

“Ace?”

His thumb moved to your clit, but you couldn’t feel it as the weight of blankets shifted on your skin.

You yawned as the scene drifted away, a small whine escaping your throat while you tried to hang onto it.

“Did you fuck Luffy’s brother?”

Zoro’s voice, thick with anger, pulled you from sleep. Rubbing your eyes, you shook your head, trying to sit up as you looked at your boyfriend.

“What’s going on?”

Zoro was sitting against the headboard, arms crossed as you turned to face him.

“You were fucking moaning, telling Ace to heat you up and shit.”

He practically growled those words, and his eyes narrowed as he watched your skin flush.

You couldn’t help but laugh, instantly regretting it when Zoro’s jaw tightened.

“It was just a dream, it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Right, a loud dream about you fucking the captain’s brother.”

Still not fully awake, you took a breath before diving back in, Zoro’s feelings clearly more affected than you realized.

“It was only a dream, Zoro. Nothing ever happened. And I don’t want it to. I’ve got everything I need right here.”

His scowl only deepened as you grabbed his thigh.

“You’re in my bed, you came on my cock how many times last night, and you’re dreaming about getting fucked by that- that pretty boy? Luffy’s-”

“Zoro, Zoro, I’m sorry. I can’t control what my brain does when I’m asleep, I promise you’re the only one for me.”

Internally grinning at his ‘pretty boy’ comment, you crawled onto his lap, straddling him. You laid kisses on his neck, but gasped as his hand reached into your pajamas, his fingers pulling away with thick strands of your slick.

“Zoro, I-”

“I was about to wake you up with my cock since you were moaning so pretty. But you were too busy getting fucked by another man.”

His voice was low and even, making your breath catch.

“Zoro, please, it was just a dream. I promise-”

“I’m gonna make you forget he exists.”

The threat in his words, and the sudden grip he took on your hips made you gasp. He forced your body closer, until you were grinding on his hard length, the pressure on your clit drawing moans from your lips.

Zoro gripped the hair at the nape of your neck, pulling your head to the side. His lips, tongue, and teeth were rough on your skin, and you shuddered, digging your nails into his shoulders.

“Zoro-”

“That’s right, Y/N. The only word out of your mouth better be my name. At least until I fuck it into you.”

High, breathy moans left your throat as he continued rolling your hips, his cock twitching under your clothed pussy.

“Say it.”

“Z-Zoro…”

He growled as he pushed you off of him, pulling your pajamas off while your skin burned for him.

“Keep it up, because I’m not stopping 'til you pass out. Then you’re gonna fuck me in your dreams. Is that alright with you?”

He had taken his boxers off, asking for consent as he caged you in, his arms planted by your head, while his cock was dripping precum as it twitched above your core.

“Ye-” you started, but his eyes narrowed, jaw clenching as his face loomed closer.

“Zoro! Zoro,” you corrected, nodding while you squirmed against the sheets beneath him.

He grabbed your chin, holding you still as he brought his lips to hover just above yours. His eyes burned into yours from so close, and you held your breath, the thrill of his jealousy making you wetter than it should have.

“You’re mine.”

He breathed those words into your mouth before kissing you, claiming you with his tongue.

Chuckling, he ate your moans as he rubbed his leaking tip around your clit.

He pulled back to watch your face as he pressed into you, only the slick from your dream and his threats to prepare you for him.

You bit your lip as he worked each throbbing inch into you. The sweet sting of the stretch sent your eyes rolling as you moaned his name.

Pulling out slowly, he thrust back in while you whimpered, your mind already empty of everything except for how he made you feel. He laughed at you again, rolling his hips as he built up speed.

“Look at this greedy pussy of mine. So fucking hungry, sucking me in like this.”

Zoro ran his strong hands over your thighs, pressing them down to get a better view of where your bodies connected, the sloppy sounds getting louder with each thrust.

He was hitting so fucking deep, gliding over the sweet spot inside you. You had to keep fighting your instincts to moan how good it felt, instead letting his name through your lips like a mantra.

He smirked down at you as he brought his thumb to your clit, and you clawed into his back while you fell apart.

“Whose cock are you coming on, baby?”

“Z-Zoro’s…”

He didn’t let up, thrusting through your orgasm, before rolling you onto your side. He lifted one of your legs over his shoulder, then slammed into you, the new angle curling your toes as you screamed.

You were a twitching, drooling mess as he kept going, folding your body however he wanted. Your mind was so lost in the pleasure and overstimulation that you couldn’t even say his name, let alone anything else.

He flipped you onto your back again, smiling as his thumb wiped the drool from your lips, wringing another orgasm from your wrecked body.

“Now there’s my good girl. You’re gonna go back to sleep now, looking so pretty with my come all over you. And I’d better hear my name on those lips, or we’re gonna have round two.”

Nodding dumbly, you opened your mouth and let your tongue hang out while Zoro pulled out of your aching cunt, fisting his cock.

“Fuuck, who do you belong to, baby?”

“Zoro,” you moaned, twitching with pleasure as hot lines of come covered your chest, some landing on your chin and tongue. You licked your lips clean, and he kissed you, rubbing his pleasure into your skin.

He pulled you against him, wrapping his arms around you as he covered you both with a sheet.

Part of you wanted to argue, to go clean up, and get ready for the day.

But Zoro kissed behind your ear, and his whispered words made you forget about everything but him.

“You’re mine.”

Thank You for Reading! 💜

TurtleTaub Fanfic Masterlist

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! 💚

Buy me a coffee ☕🙏🏼

#zoro smut #zoro x reader #portgas d ace smut #portgas d ace x reader #One Piece smut #Reader Insert #Fem!Reader #Smut #mine #one piece x reader #fic requests #anonymous #inbox #x reader #turtletaub fics

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flowercrowngods · 10 months

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some hurt/comfort cuddles for @t-boyeddie. because you deserve nice things and cuddles

🤍 also on ao3

Steve feels endlessly pathetic pulling up to the Munson trailer with a hammering heart at two in the morning, feeling like he has nowhere else in the world to go. It’s a lie. He knows it’s not true, knows that his brain is lying to him, knows that his thoughts got all tangled up and messy somewhere between noon and midday, knows that all he has to do is breathe through it and just get this day over with.

But he can’t breathe. And he can’t sleep. And he—

He needs a hug. He needs Eddie and his stupid, sweet, lovely koala hugs with his goddamn hair all up in Steve’s face. He needs it so badly that he can’t wait until tomorrow — and now here he is, pulling up to the trailer.

He gasps a little in the silence of the car when he spots a familiar figure sitting on the front steps, a blanket around his shoulders and a cigarette in his hand. Tears spring to his eyes — pathetic little tears that he refuses to allow right now, so he blinks them away. But the longer he looks at Eddie sitting right there, looking up at the approaching car with a smile that’s slowly growing, the more he feels ready to fall apart. And he will, if he’s not held together.

And Eddie is so good at holding him together. Steve needs him close; can’t wait even a second longer.

Steve cuts the engine and is out of the car in one swift move, walking over to wonderful, beautiful Eddie who is gloriously, miraculously awake.

His quick steps on the gravel match the loud, rapid beating of his heart, and then Eddie is getting up, closing the distance between them just as fast, until they’re crashing together in a tangle of arms and a gentle hand on the back of his head that’s pulling him close, close, closer.

“Hey, baby,” Eddie breathes into his cheek, his temple, his hair, and Steve wants to melt into him. Wants to cry now that the world smells like Eddie again, feels like Eddie again; now that the world is Eddie again. “Are you okay?”

He shakes his head where it’s still hidden in the crook of Eddie’s neck, his hands clenching in the soft, worn shirt he’s wearing to sleep. He wants to say, No, not really. Wants to say, It’s stupid. I was just lonely for a little too long. Missed you. Missed you, missed you, missed you.

But he can’t say anything. The words get lodged in his throat and the thought of speaking makes the world feel so overwhelming again, makes him feel like a failure and a fuck-up and all those things his mind tells him that he is on nights like this.

Things that he knows he isn’t. He knows! But knowledge doesn’t protect him on nights like this.

What protects him is the way Eddie sways them gently this way and that, silent in his own right — humming slightly to give Steve something to focus on. It makes his eyes sting again, so he burrow’s further into his love’s neck.

“I’ve got you. Was waiting for you, you know? Had a feeling. Just a feeling, Stevie. So glad you came.”

It’s good. It’s good he’s here. Eddie is glad. Eddie doesn’t judge him or hate him or think he’s too much, think he’s pathetic, think he should talk and explain and be as strong as they both know he can be.

Steve takes a deep breath, inhaling Eddie’s scent, his shampoo, his aftershave, the cigarette smoke and the laundry detergent. It settles him, and he can practically feel his frayed mind smoothing out, can feel his racing heart slow down, can feel his hands unclench from Eddie’s shirt as he breathes like he couldn’t all day and all night.

Once he’s calm enough that he doesn’t feel like he’s about to snap and break and crumble any second now, he slowly lifts his face and meets Eddie’s eyes. Even in the dark, illuminated only by the street lights and scarcely lit porch lamps, he looks so kind. So patient. So genuine.

So, so lovely.

“Hi,” he breathes, carding a hand through Steve’s hair, and Steve feels like a fragile little thing again — but gentler this time, because he knows Eddie is holding him. Because he knows Eddie won’t let go.

“Hi,” he croaks, wanting to try again with the words. It doesn’t feel good, doesn’t feel right. Maybe tonight isn’t for talking then.

“Do you wanna come inside? Stay the night with me? I’d hate to let you go now that I have you, Stevie. How’s that sound?”

He nods before Eddie even finished the first question, watching the smile unfold on his face until it’s full and wide, his hand not stopping its motions through Steve’s hair.

“Come on in, then, beautiful.”

Eddie leads him by the hand, leads him inside, entirely unwilling to let Steve go. He guides him through the dark trailer that Steve knows so well by now and doesn’t let go of his hand even as he makes him sit on the bed.

Steve looks up at him as Eddie steps between his legs and holds him close again, knowing that Steve loves this position. He can hear Eddie’s heart beating like this, can wrap his arms around him completely and just hold on forever and ever as Eddie plays with his hair.

“You’re pretty,” Eddie murmurs then. “And smart. And kind. And I’m incredibly lucky to have you here with me, Stevie. Do you know that?”

He does. It’s not why he’s here. It’s not why he can’t talk tonight. He just… He just needs Eddie.

So he doesn’t react, which is a language they have made for nights like this, and instead holds on even tighter around Eddie’s middle and leans back, falling onto his back on the bed and pulling a laughing Eddie with him, who gets the memo instantly and wraps his entire body around Steve.

The grounding weight of Eddie on top of him is what makes a few of the silent tears fall, because he gets to have this now. Because it’s okay. It’s good. Eddie loves him. He’s not a fuck-up.

Eddie brushes a kiss to his forehead, his nose, his cheek, and holds him. Tells him good things in a soothing tone sometimes that go right over Steve’s head because he’s busy losing himself in the steady beat of Eddie’s heart, the rise and fall of his chest that he’s now resting his cheek on, with Eddie’s arms around his shoulders. He’s focused on the vibrations of his voice that carry through his whole body and right into Steve’s. It’s a magical feeling that he wants to chase, so he trails his fingers down from Eddie’s adam’s apple to the middle of his chest, and up again, every time he talks. It makes Eddie laugh, makes him shiver, makes him brush more kisses to Steve’s forehead.

Quiet cuddles in the dark of Eddie’s room allow Steve to breathe again even as he buries his nose in Eddie’s neck, almost smothering himself just to make him laugh again, call him ridiculous, and tell him, “I love you.”

Steve smiles until he falls asleep still half on top of Eddie, who promises not to let him go. And he doesn’t. He won’t.

#steddie fic #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #dio words #be aware that these are 3am words though so like. don’t have any expectations at all pls #🤍🌷 i hope this is okay cj #nonverbal steve harrington #he should get to be that more often i think

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loaksbitch · 1 year

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y’all imagine jake sully okay? JAKE SULLY coming back from hunting party (if that’s a thing lol) and found you curled up on the bed you share almost half asleep thinking how you’re adorable and small until you decide to tease him and he ends up fucking you — cuddle fucking 🧎🏽‍♀️

warnings - smut, yep it’s a smut!! neck kissing & biting, side ways fucking, clit stimulation, and cum stuffing also reader is the one who starts to tease alright, idk i’ll edit it if i find any other notes i’ll have to add :P happy reading!

“cuddle-fücking you.” — jake sully (⨳)

he did it again.

jake sully stood you up for another hunting party and he can’t imagine how he’s starting to hate himself now. “i’ll be back by eclipse, princess” he had said when he left and it’s now almost over, the eclipse.

climbing fast to your shared hammock, jake moves the fabric used as a door and walks inside, he wanted to call your name but couldn’t because you’ll probably be sleeping. “knucklehead.” he curse himself.

even the kids are already asleep too. your mate walks to your shared small room and was greeted by your figure laying on the bed you two share. fuck you jake sully, fuck you.

trying not to disturb you, he removes his fighting tools from his body and place them on the mat as gentle as possible. jake slowly walks to the bed and kneels on it making the bed to sink and cause you to shuffle at your sleep

on eywa he swore how breathtaking you are just sleeping with a relaxed face.

right after he let himself slid under the sheet, jake bits his lips hard when you move and call for him. “ma jake?” his heart pinches, he feels so bad. “i’m here baby, right here.” he quickly press his chest to your back as your face is turned to the other direction.

“mhm,” you sigh, satisfied when he pulls you to him by the waist. “how did the party go? did you wound yourself?” you, half awake, feel jake nod against your back. “i didn’t, princess i’ll all good” he tells you it went good.

you smile when you feel him press light feathered like kisses on the curve of your neck. “it’s ticklish” your voice was so pretty to him. everything, everything about you is pretty.

you feel jake finally let a relieved and satisfied sigh out, pulling you close to him. your mate loved spooning and you didn’t complain. it’s the best thing ever, he called it a human thing they do on earth but here, with you. deciding to call it a night out, you press yourself to jake more causing your ass to be pressed against his pelvis.

you closed your eyes and felt yourself sighing and your body doing the same like jake, and a smile touched your lips again.

then you felt it.

it was a subtle movement against your ass. his lower body had stirred, but that often happened when he laid down so you try to push the thoughts of what you’re thinking back to your brain. plus he didn't react to it anyway, so you chalked it up to the beginnings of a sleep boner.

then you felt it again.

you fight the urge to move against him. jake looked super tired and his deeper breathing told you that he was probably getting the sleep he needed. you pushed away the dirty thoughts that were starting to come to your mind in favor of letting him sleep.

yet you felt it yet again, and this time it was harder.

your mate inhaled and exhaled deeply, pushing his hips into you ever so slightly. that coupled with the feeling of his warm breath against your neck, and the lingering remnants of his scent he probably brought over him while hunting was making your body heat up.

the warmth beginning between your legs and spreading through your body. you try to cover your whimper while a light sleeping cough and gulp down your sinful sounds. now the feeling of tiredness and sleep empty, you’re trying to slow down your shallow breath.

his cock twitched again and you reflexively arched into him more, your ass pressing against his half erection. his lips parted and he let out a very soft moan in response. you chided yourself for moving and possibly waking him, but he still seemed to be sleeping.

jake on other hand was trying not to push his clothed yet growing bulge against your ass. he knows you’re tired and dosed off, but your unintentional ass pressing to him was making him hard by every second passing.

you squeezed your thighs together to feel a little friction and was rewarded with a couple short pulsing contractions. not a full orgasm, but enough to make your close your eyes because it felt good. you did it again when you felt his cock throb against you once more, and you started to feel the need to feel full.

you were starting to feel your moisture leaking out of you and dampening your loincloth, and you secretly wished he would wake up on his own so that you wouldn't feel guilty for waking him. you bit your lip and squeezed your thighs together again and jake felt his cock throbbed against you. this time he moaned a little louder and pushed his hips against you harder.

oh shoot! you scream inside.

you were about to apologize for waking your mate from his slumped before you felt him holding your hip with his free hand and began rutting against you. you could feel his abs contract and his body shaking as he moved his hips, the friction causing him to moan.

every sound and short cut sighs that escaped his lips made your pussy throb, and you started to rhythmically push your ass against his cock. your eyes shoot open when kisses are delivered to your exposed neck.

“jake,” your voice was soft and whisper, constantly reminding yourself the kids are asleep. the two of you kept this dance until jake was the first to make a move and remove the clothing for your breast made out of leaves.

jake, with closed eyes smile when he hears gou shushing yourself as your nipple roll between his fingers. he was massaging you so well. he began kissing your neck as he continued rutting against you, and you kept squeezing your thighs together as you pushed back against him.

the sound of sharp inhaled and soft moans filling the silence, you two kept rubbing on each other while you’re both supposed to be cuddling and sleeping.

gradually his hand crept down your belly, his fingers dipping between your legs. a long "fuuuck," exhaled in your ear, feeling how you had soaked through your own loincloth. you moaned at the feeling of him touching you, and you arched into him harder as a reward. this was definitely a mutual hormones.

jake, by now probably had leaked a pre cum cause of how you’re sexy when pushing back against him. you were about to roll over and see for yourself, but he began whispering instructions in your ear. "take these off," he breathed while pulling down the waistband of your loincloth.

you lifted your hips to help him remove them, and somehow he got his own off without getting out of bed. jake pulled away slightly and you felt him grab his dick and stroke it slowly while letting out a long exhale. "i’ve got something for you," he said.

be then brought his index finger to your lips and smeared his precum across them. you then opened your mouth and began sucking the salty liquid from his finger, loving the taste of him and thanking him for reading your mind and being so thoughtful. jake hisses when you lightly bite onto his finger.

“mhm.” your moan vibrates against his fingers and his cock twitches. jake pushes his cock in between your thighs almost on a thigh-fucking mode to lubricate his length with your nectar. you try to arch your back and press your ass more to him and whine when he bucks away, teasing you.

“you’re an impatient little thing huh? you don’t like me teasing you?” he mockingly ask, “i thought you were tired, lover girl.” you moan when his tip rubs your clit before he draws his thrust. “what if i want to tease you?” you can literally imagine the stupid grin on his face.

you lick your lips, chest having up and down fast. your back, for millionth time arches when the fat girth of his cock slips between your folds and he thrusts mid way inside your hole before stopping. oh no he did not.

“baby…” you almost cry at his torture. you’re chasing your blinding orgasm while he keeps pulling you from the cliff end to jump. “tell me, princess, what do you want?”

“you.” you say fast feeling his chest roar when he chuckles quietly. “not so shy, mhm?” oh shut up and fuck me! you wanted to say loud but you bite your tongue for him to give you what you want.

“jake.” you warn, a tiny tint of desperation found in your voice. “uh-uh, not till you say it” his cock was driving you insane, if only he could bottom out in you. “please baby, please.” you’re begging, pride thrown aside for now.

you were such a whore, “say it, pretty girl.” he demanded moving painfully slowly, “or else imma have to—“ he starts to pull out. “fuck me! please jake fuck me!” thank eywa it was night time now or you wouldn’t survive with the blush tinting allover your face.

"good girl," he moaned as he began fucking you deeper, grabbing your hip so hard it hurt. every thrust you could feel in your chest as he drove deeper, and you felt your orgasm building. jake slowed down and started long stroking while grabbing your breast so hard that it hurt in the best way.

you moaned as he fucked you slowly, arching your back as much as you could so that he was bottoming out with every thrust. you wanted to cum so bad and you know you’ll make it. he slid his hand between your legs again and started to massage your clit.

it only seemed like jake was reading your mind, but in reality he knew you, he could tell you were getting frustrated by the sound of your silent voice and by the way you tried to move your hips and encourage him to go faster. “easy girl,” he laughs at you.

you moaned louder and you almost felt your orgasm in your grasp. he moved his finger left and right across your clit just like you liked, driving himself deep inside you, breathing hard in your ear and edging you closer and closer. “that’s it baby, do it again” he growls. “tightening on me.” you do it again and jake let a deadly moan out.

"you feel so good, baby," he moaned. "so fucking tight." you clenched around his dick at his words and he moaned again. you could tell he was close to losing control. his thrusts were becoming jerkier, and he was panting in between moaning expletives. “so. fucking. tiny.” he growls.

your man, jake removed his hand from between your legs and replaced it with yours, and you started to rub your clit, essentially masturbating on his dick. “ngh, jake… f-feels so good” you cry out, eyes widening when you feel him lifting your leg, holding it in the air, and starting to fuck you hard and fast again, making you moan loudly.

“shh, you’re gonna wake the kids.” you nod, drunk with pleasure. your body tensed as you felt your orgasm crashing over you, and you cried out every time your pussy squeezed his dick. but jake didn't stop. he fucked you hard through your orgasm, not caring how hypersensitive you were becoming or how you felt like you couldn't take anymore.

deep voice hovers over your ear, “take it, you’re doing good. make me cum.” your ears perk up when he requests to make him cum. but the overstimulation was becoming too much. just before you were about to tap out you felt his dick get even harder and more rigid.

he’s so close.

you bit your lip and let him keep fucking you because you were a big girl and you could take the beating he was giving you as he chased his own orgasm. jake suddenly slowed down, signaling that he was right there. it was his tell that he was about to come and you mentally started the countdown.

jake growls and bottoms out while his hand his still on air with your legs held up. “baby.” he whines, he fucking whines and your inside tighten. “jake please,” you don’t know what you’re begging for now. “give me it.” you tell him.

that was the last push to send him over edge and making him fully bottom out in you and spill his frustration and tiredness in you. “taking me so well, i know princess i know” he says seeing how your whole body tensed when he filled you up.

“such a good girl for me only.”

“you’re amazing,” he tells you his voice already tired. “you’re amazing too, ma jake.” he smiled and playfully bite your shoulder. “i love you” he says not waiting for a respond cause him still being inside you was an “i love you too”

too spent to move, you don’t even tell him to pull out and lean against him ready to sleep. everything is now peaceful making you both easily drift to a deep slumber.

uhm-uhm *clears throat* this was a 2k+ words worth it i think. but like seriously, i’m scared i’ll lose my interest in human men because this obsession isn’t obviously right 😐 — hope you enjoyed reading! like + reblogs are appreciated and not pressured!! mwah i love each and everyone of you babies.

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jaymadii · 9 months

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BAKUGO HEAT HEADCANNONS [O!Bakugo Katsuki x A!Male Reader]

This man is on TOP of his heat schedule

When he’s sees his date is fast approaching he begins to prepare - bottled water, meal prep, lube, alpha

You don’t have a choice on whether or not your gonna spend his heat with him when you start dating

He has to lay his claim before another omega tried to woo you

He has a two bedroom apartment so he can use the second bedroom as a heat room

That baby is locked at all times because of noisy guests (Denki)

You were taken back the first time you walked in there

Your clothes - everywhere

Bakugo is a laundry thief

You didn’t get to do much looking around at first because you had a horny omega purring in your neck and grinding on your thigh

During a rest period you get to take it all in though

Huge nest

HUGE

Like it takes up the whole room

The floor is lined with a big mattress and soft blankets and pillows are piled in a circular formation

Everything was black or grey

During his heat Bakugo is clingy af

Denies later

But the moment you make a move to get out of the nest a distressed cry is heard from behind you before you feel your omega’s hands stroking any part he can get to

Trying to lure you back in

It works

He clings to your chest while he sleeps, head tucked into the crook of your neck while you stroke his hair

If you ever wanna hear Bakugo purr, just whisper sweet things into his ear about why he’s better than any other omega

About how he’s the only omega you would ever love

LOVES to ride you during his heat

Makes him feel in control

Also loves to leave bruises and bites all over you

He wants your co-workers to know why you had to take a week off

He will cry if you deny him a orgasm for too long

Tears and snot running down his face as he begs for you to keep touching him

Will only stop crying after you give him what he wants and then some

Heat sex is much sweeter than regular sex with Bakugo

Bakugo’s brain is telling him to give you a reason to mark him - the mate him - to breed him

Bakugo runs your hand over his belly when your inside him - wanting for you to feel the bulge you made

He loves to have his nipples teased

Sometimes you think he could cum from that alone

The inhuman squeals that come out of him when your mouth attaches to a nub is a addicting sound

Hates it when you pay only attention to his cock

He’ll be thrusting in your mouth frustrated and crying that he can’t cum

Immediately loses all his composure when you start fingering him

You love to eat him out - love to have him sit on your face

Bakugo’s legs shake so bad as he tries to hold himself up for you

You constantly pull him down so your tongue can go deeper

On the occasion that you do leave to room during his heat - to eat or bathe

Bakugo bends himself over the counter in the kitchen to entice you to fuck him more

When you do bathe - you bathe together

You shampoo Bakugo’s hair for him as he lays against your chest in the tub

You wash him with body wash - very throughly

You’re afraid of the floor getting water damage with all the sloshing that happens

Bakugo doesn’t wear clothes during his heat - unless it’s one of your shirts or shorts

Can’t stand not having your scent on him constantly

#bakugou imagine #bakugou x male reader #bakugou katsuki #mha x male reader #bakugo x male reader #male reader #bnha x male reader #omegaverse #omega bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki x male reader #mha bakugou

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wheresarizona · 1 year

Text

Gif by the amazing @pedropascalsx

September Part 2

Firefly Hospital, 2024

summary: Twenty years ago, Joel Miller was the love of your life. On the day of the Outbreak, you’d gotten separated and never saw him again—imagine your surprise when you find out the smuggler Marlene hired to bring the immune girl to your research hospital is none other than the man you thought you’d lost forever.

pairing: Joel Miller/f!reader (reader is a doctor with no physical descriptions)

rating: E (18+! No y/n, alternating POV, age gap (10 years), oral sex (f receiving), face-sitting, vaginal fingering, coming untouched, dirty talk, praise kink, canon-typical violence, minor character death, slight angst, emotions, love confessions, mentions of PTSD, handwavey medical jargon (went to google medical school for this one), Ellie being a cockblock, Ellie giving Joel so much shit, TLOU finale speculation, TLOU tv spoilers, TLOU game spoilers)

word count: 16.6k+

a/n: This goes over reader and Joel’s reunion after twenty years of being apart. It is dramatic and a fun ride. I’m playing fast and loose with game canon to speculate how the show finale will go, and this chapter follows a bit of how it goes in the game, with me taking some liberties. Thank you to the love of my life, @juletheghoul for betaing and being by my side.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

Part 1 - Part 3 - Series Masterlist - Masterlist

20 Years After the Outbreak

He can’t fucking believe it.

He’s at a loss.

Months Joel spent with this little girl, bringing her across the country, keeping her safe, protecting her with his life—fucking Tess lost hers getting Ellie to the Fireflies, and they’re just going to kill her in order to reverse-engineer a vaccine? She was a lamb to the slaughter. He’d inadvertently brought her to her death.

Anger is threading in his belly, pissed off over everything he went through, feeling like it was all for nothing, not if she’s going to die.

They’re in a hospital that’s being used by the Fireflies to try and find a cure, Ellie taken from him, Joel kneeling on a hospital room floor after an armed guard had hit him, listening to Marlene talk about how this was harder for her due to her history with the girl.

Joel rolls his eyes because if she actually gave a shit about Ellie, she wouldn’t let this happen.

There has to be another way.

He has to find Ellie.

He almost lost her getting here, and he isn’t going to just step back and let her die, the world be damned, he can’t lose another person he cares about, not if he can help it. He’ll do everything in his power to find her and get her the fuck out of here—she’s too important to him.

Marlene’s in front of him, the guard at her side.

“This isn’t about me, her, or you,” she tells him. “There is no other choice here—my hands are tied.”

He scoffs, moving to sit on his ass and resting his arms on his knees, glaring at her. “Yeah,” he sneers, “you keep tellin’ yourself that bullshit if it helps you sleep at night.”

She sighs, shaking her head.

“March him out of here,” she orders the guard. “He tries anything. Shoot him. Don’t ruin this, Joel.” She turns on her heel, opens the room door, and leaves, Joel’s mind racing with what he can do. He’s sized up the other man, knowing he can take him, the only disadvantage being that Joel didn’t have any weapons, and he did.

“Get up,” the Firefly says.

Joel doesn’t bother moving, working out in his brain his next steps. He needs to get his hands on a gun, thankful they hadn’t handcuffed him, which would give him the opportunity to disarm the guard.

Get a weapon, find Ellie

His mind chants.

It was evident that she wasn't safe as long as these people were alive, so he’d take out anyone who got in his way.

“I said get up.” The other man raises his handgun, pointing it at Joel.

He sighs, groaning as he rises, rage pulsing in his veins, his jaw clenching, hands in tight fists wanting to hit this bastard.

Marlene left the door open, the Firefly’s back to it, his attention focused on Joel, not realizing someone had slipped inside quietly behind him. Joel watches as the smaller person claps a hand over the man’s mouth, their other hand slicing open his throat with what he thought might be a scalpel. The guard gurgles as he falls forward, the gun clattering to the ground, grabbing at his neck to try and stop the bleeding, to no avail, falling to the floor in a growing pool of blood.

Joel’s confused, his eyes a little wider, taking in his unexpected savior.

From the scrubs she’s wearing and the scalpel, he thinks she’s some kind of doctor. Her hair is hidden under a surgical cap, her face obscured with a mask covering half of it as if she’d left in the middle of an operation.

She’s bending down and picking up the gun, tossing it to him when she straightens, Joel catching it easily.

“Who are you?” he asks.

There’s something familiar about her eyes, but he can’t place who she is, not sure who the fuck he knew who’d be all the way out here and willing to risk their life for him, his brain coming up with no one.

For one hopeful second, even though he knows it’s fucking impossible, he thinks it’s Tess until the woman speaks, her muffled voice dashing his hopes, “No time to chat,” she says. “We have to get Ellie—I couldn’t do it alone.”

His eyebrows are in his hairline, all of the confusion and disappointment being replaced with hope once more.

“You know where she is?” he asks.

“Yes,” she answers, nodding. “Follow me. Your stuff is down this hall.” She points behind her. She’d discarded the scalpel, pulling a handgun from the back of her pants. “Come on. We don’t have much time.”

Leaving without another word, Joel is hot on her heels. Questions could wait until Ellie was safe, keeping his guard up and on alert, fingers itching to kill these assholes. Down the hallway, she shows him where his things are on a counter, him quickly putting on his backpack, their weapons drawn as they start moving, him covering her back.

“We’re turning up here,” she whispers. “Two guards—need to get to the stairwell.”

“Copy that.”

Eerie calmness washes over him, his brain working to figure out their next moves. She stops at the corner, glancing around it. Her head turns toward him, nodding, then she steps out, two shots ringing out. Joel sees the Fireflies crumpling to the ground as he follows.

“Clear,” she says, stuffing her gun into her pants as she goes to one of the bodies to take their semi-automatic rifle. Joel does the same, impressed with the clean headshots.

“Who are you?” he asks again, taking up point behind her again with the bigger gun.

“We’ll worry about that later, Joel,” she answers, already on the move.

“How’d you know my name?”

“Ellie,” she replies. “But I’d never forget Joel Miller.”

Does she know him? Does he know her? His eyes had trailed over her body for any kind of clue, but he came up empty.

“What’s your name?”

“That’s not important,” she says. They’re approaching the stairwell. “Ellie’s on the top floor, far end. The place will be littered with guards. They won’t hesitate to kill you, so show no mercy.”

“Wasn’t plannin’ on it,” he grits out. “Would burn this fuckin’ place to the ground if I could.”

“I’ll bring the gasoline. You light the match. Deal?”

Joel huffs out an amused breath. He may not have any idea who this woman is who’s helping him, but she’s competent, knows what needs to be done, and is funny.

He kinda likes her, whoever she is.

They don’t speak as they hurry up the stairs, and once they’ve exited, she jams a chair into the door to lock it.

She was right about the place being littered with Fireflies.

They move as a unit, in sync, somehow knowing what the other would do without speaking, taking out anyone who got in their way swiftly and efficiently. Rage fueled him, and she led him, knowing where to take cover, tossing each other more ammunition divested from those they’d gunned down. The guards had no idea what hit them, hearing screams and frantically calling for reinforcements over their radios, wondering out loud who was killing them.

It’s a bloodbath, a fucking massacre. Joel and this woman are ruthless in their endeavor to get to Ellie.

Blood is spattered on their clothes and skin, sweat clinging to their bodies, breathing hard when they enter a door and see where the operating room is. Joel barricades the door they’d come through with medical equipment to buy them time, his knees aching and back sore, heart racing a mile a minute.

“There will be a nurse and a doctor,” she whispers. “I should’ve been in there, too.”

He grunts in response, taking off his backpack to strap the rifle to it, putting it back on, and grabbing the handgun from his waist.

He’s hoping and praying they’ll make it in time, not sure what he’ll do if they don’t, the trek to the room feeling like it takes forever.

She pushes through the door first, him stepping in after her training his gun on the surgeon about to operate.

“Get away from her!” Joel angrily demands, his teeth bared, ready to shoot.

“What are you doing here?” the surgeon asks, moving to stand between them and Ellie, holding up a scalpel in defense. “You brought him here?” The question was directed at the mystery woman.

“Yes,” she answers, her gun locked on him. “We’re not letting you kill her.”

“She’s our future! You can’t take her! This is the only way to save lives!”

“It’s not!” she shouts, Joel hearing her anger.

“You’ll pay for this—don’t come any closer,” the surgeon threatens, swinging the scalpel around.

There’s no hesitation when she pulls the trigger, the man falling to the ground as the nurse screams, Joel seeing her reaching on a surgical tray for something sharp, his shot stopping her.

The room is cleared, his focus moving to Ellie.

“Sweet Jesus,” he murmurs, his gun going back into his waistband, not wasting another second to get to the girl, her in a surgical gown and oxygen mask, hooked up to an IV, her eyes closed.

“Come on, baby girl,” he says, carefully removing the mask. The woman had shouldered her rifle, moving to the other side of the table to carefully take care of the IV and bandage Ellie’s hand. “I gotcha,” his voice soft as he gently picks her up, his attention moving to the woman. “How do we get outta here?”

He watches as she tears off the cap and, finally, the face mask.

Stumbling back, he feels like he’s been shot, his eyes going wide, all of the oxygen leaving his lungs and making it hard to breathe, blood pounding in his ears.

It can’t be.

Since the night of the outbreak, Joel has been plagued with nightmares, reliving the horrors over and over again, self-medicating with pills and home-brewed booze to dreamlessly sleep. There were nights when he’d dream of the woman he once loved—her eyes, her smile, usually the two of them in bed with soft light pouring in from the window, and if his brain was being particularly cruel, he’d be on top of her, watching as she came around him—something he once loved to see, and was now painful, waking up harder than a rock, and too fucking sad to do anything about it except drink until he passed out. A vicious cycle.

Staring at the woman in front of him, it’s the same face from his dreams.

He’d kissed those lips, held those cheeks, spent hours studying every detail, and thought he’d never see it again—only in memory, another person lost to him.

It feels like he’s seeing a ghost, unable to believe that this is real, that she’s standing there, thinking maybe he might be dead, and he’s having a nice hallucination before his soul leaves this earth.

He croaks out your name, it feeling rusty on his tongue.

She smiles softly, and he sucks in a breath because it is you, and you’re alive, tears beginning to burn in his eyes.

“Hi, babe,” you greet with a wiggle of your fingers in a wave.

His heart constricts, his lips slowly tipping up, replying without a second thought.

“Hi, baby.”

Hours Earlier

“She doesn’t have to die!” you shout.

For months, Marlene has been talking about a girl immune to the infection and that she hired a smuggler to deliver her to your research hospital where you worked, but after most of Marlene’s crew didn’t make the trip here, you all assumed the girl hadn’t survived.

At least you had until she’d been found unconscious nearby, the old bite mark that’d healed and scarred with no sign of infection prominent on her arm, identifying her as Ellie Williams.

Tests were done to confirm her immunity, and now you’re discussing what’s to be done with the lead surgeon at this facility and Marlene, the doctor so adamant about finding a cure he isn’t taking into account that Ellie is a child and that there are other options than doing a procedure that will outright kill her.

“We have to extract the fungus,” he replies.

“Yes, and we can biopsy,” you argue.

“Can that be done?” Marlene asks.

He’s sitting behind his desk, you and Marlene standing in front of it. She’s called you in as a second opinion because you’re second in line behind the surgeon here at the hospital.

You and he speak at the same time.

“Yes.”

“No.”

Her attention moves to him.

“Lay it out for me why a biopsy wouldn’t work.” Her arms are crossed over her chest, looking tired.

“The fungus is intertwined with the brain, and removing it would destroy the host.”

“She’s a child, not some science experiment. Why does it all have to be removed?”

He sighs.

“It’s our best chance at making the vaccine—extract the entire specimen, and we’ll save millions of lives.”

“At the cost of an innocent kid?” Marlene asks with a raised eyebrow.

He leans forward on the desk, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Do you think I’m unaware of the situation?” he asks. “How many Fireflies have died for less? How many sacrifices have been made for nothing when this one will actually have results?”

She looks at you.

“Rebuttal?”

“In order to make a vaccine, we only need some of the mutated infection. It’s possible to biopsy some of it to get what we need—extracting the entire specimen is overkill and murder.”

Marlene faces him again.

“I want to agree with her,” she says, pointing her thumb at you. “If she can do it without killing Ellie, then I’ll have her take over.”

His eyes narrow.

“She’s not even a real doctor.” “My degree would say otherwise,” you snidely reply.

He met your gaze.

“You didn’t complete your residency—you were an intern when the outbreak happened. I was a practicing physician with years under my belt, and you think you know our best course of action for this situation? I have the experience. I have been searching for a cure for years while you were off being a medic.” The disdain is evident in his tone. “You may have risen in the ranks here over the last five years, but I am the head of this hospital.” He looks at Marlene. “I’ve been working for your cause practically since its inception. Our goal is to make a vaccine. You’ve trusted me here for years to do our work, and we’ve been fighting for this moment—this is our chance to justify all of the sacrifices and horrific things we’ve been through, and we can’t let it all go to waste because our cure happens to reside in a fourteen-year-old girl—you have to trust me on this, a biopsy is not enough, we need it all to ensure the vaccine is made.”

“That’s horse shit!” you exclaimed, throwing up your hands.

Marlene holds her hand up to you, her attention on the surgeon.

“What if this was your daughter?” she asks, well aware that he has one, who’s also a Firefly.

“I wouldn’t hesitate,” he answers. “One life for millions of others? I think it’s worth the sacrifice.”

She nods.

“Do it.”

“Marlene, I can—” you start to protest.

She turns to you, cutting you off, “We have to do whatever it takes to be successful—if you don’t agree, you can leave. It’s being done with or without you, but you're not welcome back once you step outside those doors.”

Your mouth falls open, anger swirling in your gut.

This is murder. They’re going to kill this girl, and what if it doesn’t pan out to anything? This isn’t sitting right with you, not when there are other options. You’ve been with the Fireflies for years, a way to survive and try to do some good, but seeing what they’re willing to do for a cure has made you disillusioned with the group—the experimentations, infecting people to try out vaccines that failed—and now there’s a real shot at getting somewhere, and they want to kill the person who’s giving it to them.

Can you get her out?

Can you save her?

That smuggler she came with managed to get her across the country in relatively good shape, and you have to assume he fought and killed to keep her safe.

Would he help you?

Two against dozens of armed guards sounds like a suicide mission, but what will the Fireflies resort to if this all fails?

As the surgeon said, you spent years as a medic, which meant you were traveling, protecting yourself, gaining your skills as a doctor and in self-defense, not shy about guns, blood, or carnage.

If they’re going to do whatever it takes, then you will too, in order to save this girl.

“Am I understood?” Marlene asks.

“Yes, ma’am,” you reply.

“Good.” She glances back at the man. “I’m gonna go tell Joel.”

The name has a jolt running through you, memories of a man from your past coming to the forefront of your brain—chocolate-colored eyes, brown waves of hair, a strong nose, broad shoulders—Joel Miller was a hard one to lose, and you never recovered, would never recover. He was the love of your life, and you were planning on spending the rest of your days with him and his daughter up until the world ended, and you got separated, hoping they were out there somewhere as safe as they could be in these times. You squash down the sliver of hope, knowing Marlene isn’t talking about your Joel.

“Why?” he asks, making you mad that he’s questioning her decency.

“He traveled with her for months. He has the right to know. Good luck with your surgery.” With that, she left, leaving the two of you.

“I know you don’t agree with me,” he starts, “but today will go down in history as the day we saved the world.”

Your hands clench at your sides, grinding your teeth.

“Right…”

“Get her prepped for the operation. We’ll start in two hours.”

“How many will you need on your service?”

He thinks it over for a second.

“You can scrub in—I won’t need your help. One nurse will do. It’s a pretty straightforward procedure.”

“As you wish, Doctor,” you say through your teeth. “I’ll get the operating room put together.”

With the discussion over, you leave the room, trying to figure out what you’ll do as you walk to the surgical floor, mindlessly changing into scrubs, and a surgical cap, putting on your medical mask last. In the back of your locker, you take the handgun, stuffing it into the waistband of your pants, thankful it was normal to walk around armed.

Before you go to the girl’s room, you stop at the nurse's station, having the few there decide who will help during the surgery.

You’re not going to bother putting the operating room together; that will give you extra time.

Frankly, you shouldn’t even bother seeing the girl, but something inside you wants to meet her, so you go, her sitting up in a hospital bed, legs criss crossed under her, reading some old magazine one of the nurse’s probably brought her.

Knocking on her door, you ask, “Anything good in there?”

She looks over the pages at you.

“Just two hundred and fifty-four hot new fashion, beauty, and body secrets. People really read this shit?”

Laughing, you answer, “Yes, especially girls your age.”

She makes a face that has you snorting, her setting it down.

“It’s crazy how much people cared about how they looked.”

Walking towards her, you smile, nodding your head.

“I know,” you reply. “It would take me a minimum of thirty minutes to get ready before leaving the house.”

Shock is on her face.

“Why did it take so fucking long?”

“Shower, hair, makeup, finding the perfect outfit—if I had a date, it took me an hour because I wanted to look as cute as possible.”

Sadness has your chest going tight, remembering your first date with Joel and how you stressed over what dress to wear, mentally high-fiving yourself when his eyes lit up at seeing you. He tried to be a gentleman, telling you he was old-fashioned and didn’t do sex on the first date, his mind changing by the end of the night when you’d both ended up naked on your living room couch.

“An hour?!” she exclaims, taking you from your reverie. “Why?”

“Well, when two people like each other very much—”

“Ew,” she interrupts. “Yuck, I don’t want to know. Anyways, I’m assuming you’re a doctor?”

Making a show of looking down at your body, you ask, “What gave me away?” You met her eyes again.

“Honestly, you’re not like any doctor I’ve met before—earlier with the tests, they were so…”

“Cold?” you finish for her. “Not very friendly?”

“Exactly.”

You sigh, moving to sit on the edge of her bed.

“There’s no bedside manner anymore,” you say. “It’s getting you fixed up and on your way—at least that’s how it is with newer doctors, the ones who’ve learned over time and didn’t actually go to school before the world went to shit. But I want to make sure you’re comfortable, and—” you look left and right like you’re making sure no one is around before looking at her again“ —It’s nice having someone new to talk to. People here are boring.”

She laughs.

“I can tell.”

It’s the right decision to save this girl. You know, in your gut, that it’s what you need to do.

Her spunkiness reminds you of Sarah, who also wouldn’t have been into two hundred and fifty-four hot new fashion, beauty, and body secrets. You’d bonded with Joel’s daughter over music, her loving your CD collection and always letting her choose what you listened to in the car, her tastes varying, which had a lot to do with her dad loving tunes from the seventies and eighties. She was a firecracker, always keeping her dad on his toes, and here was Ellie keeping you on yours.

“Let’s talk business, squirt,” you say.

Her face scrunches up, “Squirt?”

“Yeah, similar to ‘kiddo,’” you answer.

“You fucking sound like Joel—where is he, by the way? I woke up, and he wasn’t with me. People have been weird and will only say he’s okay.”

The worry is evident on her face, even though she’s trying to hide it.

“I haven’t personally seen him,” you reply. “He is okay, though. Marlene was actually heading to let him know how you’re doing.” And that they’re planning to kill you, you didn’t say out loud.

“That’s good. Don’t need him worrying.”

“I’m impressed he got you all the way here. What’s he like?”

You’re curious about the man.

“Tall, wide—” she held out her hands “—and a grumpy asshole.” Definitely not your Joel, then. “But he’s got his nice moments.” She gives you a conspiratorial look that makes you smile. “Don’t tell him I said this, but I know deep down he’s a fucking softy.”

“You’re secret’s safe with me,” you laugh.

Her face goes somber, her fingers fidgeting with the blanket under her.

“So, what’s gonna happen to me, Doc?”

Your stomach must drop all the way to the ground floor.

You couldn’t lie to her, but you didn’t want to scare her.

“They want to extract the infection from your brain to make a vaccine,” you answer truthfully.

“Who’s they?”

“Marlene and the head of this facility.”

“Oh.” She frowns. “You won’t be there?”

“I was asked to scrub in, but I won’t be operating.”

“Surgery, then?”

“Surgery.” You nod.

“Will it hurt?”

Smiling reassuringly, you answer, “Won’t feel a thing. You’ll be knocked out cold.”

“That’s good. Can I talk to Joel beforehand? I just want to thank him for everything.”

You frown, “That won’t be possible. I’ll happily relay a message to him for you.”

She looks downtrodden, eyes darting away from you.

“That works. Um, if I don’t make it, can you tell him I said thank you? For getting me here safe and not abandoning me? That I’m sorry for being such a fucking pain in his ass.”

You reach to touch her leg comfortingly.

“I’ll let him know,” you reply softly. “You know, I once knew a Joel before everything.” You wave your hand in explanation, her meeting your gaze to nod. “I was going to marry him,” you continue. “He hadn’t asked yet, but I knew he was the one. You never forget a dreamboat like Joel Miller,” you sigh wistfully.

Her eyes go round.

“Joel Miller?” she asks. “Your Joel’s last name was Miller?”

“It was.” You nod. “I loved him and his daughter Sarah.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

You’re taken aback, “I’m sorry..?”

“Sorry, sorry.” She puts up her hands in a placating gesture. “It’s just my grumpy Joel’s last name is Miller, and he had a daughter named Sarah.”

Your heart clenches, and your throat gets tight, asking thickly, “Had?”

Clear sadness comes over her face.

“I don’t know all the details, but she didn’t make it. Early on. Really fucked him up.”

Covering your mouth, you need a second, emotions warring inside you—hope that it is your Joel and unimaginable pain about Sarah, not wanting her to be gone, and thinking of all the years he would’ve been alone, wondering if he even had Tommy. It’s a struggle to keep the tears at bay.

“Your Joel Miller, does he happen to be from Texas?” you finally ask.

“Yeah,” she answers, nodding. “Sounds funny, too. His brother Tommy and him are from, I think, Houston, no, fuck, starts with an ‘A.’”

“Austin,” you breathe, eyes wide as saucers.

“Yeah!” she exclaims. “Holy shit, is my Joel your Joel?”

She’s excited by the prospect, and you’re doing everything not to cry. You need to go to him. You both need to save this girl, and once that’s done, you can have the long overdue reunion. He won’t want her to die, especially not after losing Sarah. It’s cruel that he’s been put in this spot, your blood boiling, knowing without a doubt that if he brought her here alone, the two of you could get her out, or at least you’d both die trying, and you’re willing, especially to see Joel one last time.

“I think he might be,” you reply.

“You gotta go talk to him!”

“I do.” You nod. “Do you trust me?”

She looks confused.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re going to be safe—you’re not going to die. Everything is going to be okay.”

“Okay..?”

“Good. You’re not going to see me again until after you wake up, so don’t panic, squirt. I’ll be there.”

“Okay.”

“I’m going to go see him,” you say as you stand up.

She picks up the magazine.

“Do you need kissing tips? It says here that with these techniques, you’ll rock his world.”

You snort.

“Aren’t you a goddamn comedian—you must’ve amused the hell out of Joel.”

She looks proud as she smiles.

“I made him laugh—multiple times.”

“Way to go, kiddo. Don’t tell anyone where I’m going, and I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Sounds good, Doc.”

It was your goal not to arouse any suspicions, walking briskly towards the floor you knew Joel was on, stopping to snag a scalpel, and taking the back way that was a little longer but would have you bypassing a lot of the guards since you had some time to work with, the procedure having to be delayed with nothing being ready.

Hiding in the shadows of the next room, you gasp when you hear Joel calling Marlene on her bullshit, your heart picking up in speed at the familiar Texas drawl and rasp, a stray tear falling down your cheek.

He’s here.

He’s really here and alive.

The focus needs to be on saving Ellie, so you know you can’t trip him up by revealing who you are, thankful you’d changed into your operating clothes.

When his door opens, and you hear Marlene’s footsteps heading away from you, you’re moving, scalpel held tight in your hand, knowing you need to be as quiet as possible so as not to alert the other two guards on this floor.

You don’t even look at Joel when you enter the room, focusing on your task, and executing it seamlessly, only chancing a glance once you’ve tossed him the gun.

He’s older and greyer, years of surviving making his already broad shoulders even broader, his face hardened over time, having some idea of the hell he’s been through, and still, just as he was at thirty-six, at fifty-six, he’s still the most handsome man you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Your fingers want to smooth the furrow between his eyes, kiss those plush lips of his, feel his arms engulf you, hold you tight, and never let you go.

Twenty years and you’re still madly in love with Joel Miller—one look, and you’re a fucking goner.

You can’t get your hopes up, not knowing anything about his current situation, assuming he’s probably moved on.

Who wouldn’t want him?

There’s no way he’s been single all these years. You’ve had your own flings, nothing long-lasting or very memorable.

Who could compare to Joel?

He’s the blueprint of what you want in a man, and no one could or would ever measure up.

Was your life lonely?

A little, but why tie yourself to someone you’d never be able to love because your heart belonged to another?

“Who are you?” he asks.

“No time to chat,” you reply. “We have to get Ellie—I couldn’t do it alone.” You ignore the excited flutters in your tummy at hearing his voice.

He asks another question, and you answer, leading him from the room, weapons raised, ready to face whatever comes your way, comforted with Joel at your back.

When you reach the top floor, you quickly understand how he managed to get Ellie here in one piece—the man was a killing machine—brutal, merciless, breathtaking.

The way he fought was a thing of beauty, and if you hadn’t had to focus on staying alive, you’d have loved to watch him—seeing his strength, his competence, not wasting a single shot.

Somehow, it made him more attractive, which you didn’t think was possible.

The two of you worked together so well as a pair, covering each other, moving as one to mow down anyone who crossed your path, making it to the operating room just as they were about to begin.

You feel no remorse for killing the surgeon. Frankly, you haven’t felt bad about killing another human in years because there’s no room for feeling guilty when you’re trying to survive—you compartmentalize, knowing that it’s either them or you; if you hesitate for even a fraction of a second, you’re dead, so you’ve got to pull the trigger first, and you will.

You and Joel are on the same page about getting Ellie out of there as soon as possible. You quickly take care of her IV and make sure her hand is bandaged, smiling softly when you see Joel tenderly lift the girl into his arms, murmuring quietly to her, seeing just how much he cares.

There’s no doubt in your mind he would’ve attempted this rescue alone, and the thing is, you’re pretty sure he would’ve succeeded from sheer will alone.

His eyes meet yours, seeing his trust in you, him relying on you now to get you all out.

“How do we get outta here?” he asks.

There’s no point in hiding anymore, honestly surprised your cap and mask even stayed on.

You’re not sure what his reaction will be, hoping for happiness.

When he gets a good look at you, he stumbles back in shock, the blood leaving his face, watching his eyes go wide, mouth agape, seeing the shock, the disbelief, the hope, many emotions coming over his features as he processes what’s going on.

His voice cracks as he breathes your name, and you gently smile, knowing this is probably a lot for him, raising your hand and wiggling your fingers in a wave.

“Hi, babe,” you say.

It’s noticeable on his face the realization that it really is you, and you’re here, his eyes getting misty, lips turning up, the blood in your veins thrumming when he answers like he had a thousand times before without missing a beat, “Hi, baby.”

“You’re alive,” Joel says in wonder, his eyes mapping out your face, seeing lines from aging but still just as beautiful as the first time he saw you all those years ago.

“I am,” you reply, nodding. You point at him. “You are, too. Imagine my surprise when Ellie started telling me about this grumpy asshole named Joel Miller, who brought her here—couldn’t believe it was my Joel Miller until we compared notes. Sorry to spring this on you; I know it’s a shock.”

He huffs out a breath.

“That’s a fuckin’ understatement.”

You giggle.

Is this real? Is he dreaming?

You’re just as lively as he remembers, your smile like a breath of fresh air in this godforsaken world.

There’s a sensation in his stomach, it not feeling right, hitting him a second later that the fluttering is fucking butterflies, as if he was a goddamn teenager again, talking to his crush.

Twenty fucking years, and he still has it bad.

“God, I missed you,” you say.

“I missed you, too.”

“We’ll catch up after we get the fuck out of here. We’re going out that door.” You point at the opposite wall from where you came in. “Pit stop to grab her things that are on the way. Then the elevator to the basement garage—we can get a truck. There’s multiple.”

“I need you to do somethin’ first,” he says.

Your head cocks to the side.

“What do you need?”

“Come ‘ere, my hands are full. I need you to pinch me.”

Your eyebrows drew together.

“You need me to pinch you…?” you ask slowly.

“Yeah,” he answers, nodding. “Gotta make sure I’m not dreamin’—need to know you’re really here with me.”

Your eyes soften, quickly moving around the table until you’re at his side, smiling at him as you pinch his arm, leaning in to kiss his cheek, his skin buzzing where you touch, wanting more of it.

“There,” you say, looking at him through your lashes, and it has him gulping. “Believe I’m here, now?”

“I missed you so fuckin’ much, baby,” his words come out rough, feeling the tears in his eyes.

“I missed you, too, Joel,” you reply, rubbing his arm, goosebumps erupting on his skin. “Let’s get out of here—I wanna catch up.”

He nods, “Lead the way.”

He watches you getting the rifle into your hands, him following you out of the room, stopping to grab Ellie’s backpack that was left on a hospital bed, and you putting it on.

It’s a fucking maze to find the elevator, you knowing exactly where to go, guards showing up halfway to it, commotion erupting as you told him where to go, covering him and Ellie as the three of you moved quickly down the corridors, gunshots ringing out.

You’re both panting by the time the elevator doors close, you taking point in front of him with your gun at the ready.

Joel can’t get over you being here with him.

There’s so much about you that hasn’t changed since all those years ago, somehow keeping your radiance, your life, not losing yourself to the darkness, but underneath all of that, he’s seen how you’ve adapted—killing with zero hesitation, not afraid to do what it takes to survive, a ruthlessness to you that only develops after going through some horrible shit. Guilt makes his chest squeeze, hating that you’ve been out here on your own, surviving. He at least has Tommy, had Tess, and with how easily you’re leaving with him, he doesn’t think you have anyone, and it breaks his heart.

“Do we need to worry about runnin’ into anybody else down there?” he asks.

You glance at him over your shoulder, “They would’ve called everyone to the top floor, and I’m pretty sure we took out at least ninety percent of their muscle. I can’t imagine anyone being stupid enough to try and stop us.”

He nods.

“Thank you,” he says.

“You’re welcome. I’d honestly planned on trying to get her out before I knew it was you who’d brought her. I’m thankful you were here—you’re a fucking tank. Probably wouldn’t have even needed me.”

He chuckles, his chest puffing out a little in pride.

“If I’d had to do it alone, I’d be in a helluva lot more pain, so thank you.”

“Knees?”

He nods. “And my fuckin’ back—I’ve gotten old.”

“But you still look really fucking good,” you reply with a wink, and it makes his throat go dry, his heart hammering that you’re flirting with him, that you’re still interested in him after all this time, even though he’s gone grey, and rougher around the edges. You didn’t even shy away from what he’d do to keep himself and those he cares about safe; pretty sure you even liked it.

It’s been so long, he wonders if you moved on and if he even has a chance with you.

He’s had time to mourn Tess, thankful for the years he got with her, keeping him alive and not letting him self-destruct in his grief, but even though they cared about each other to a certain extent, they’d been using one another—he was the muscle, she was the brains, and he couldn’t give her what she wanted; offer feelings that weren’t hers to have, so what they had wasn’t all that romantic, there wasn’t time for any of that shit, and Tess didn’t much care for it, anyway.

There’s history with Joel and you, memories of a time when you’d been happy together, and being here with you is making him remember all of the good times—the feelings he had for you that he’d buried deep inside after he thought you were gone, coming alive inside him, consuming him, wanting to touch you, feel your soft skin under him, and kiss you—fuck, he hasn’t kissed in so long, Tess never being very affectionate, sex always quick and a means to scratch an itch.

He clearly remembers what sex was like with you—it haunts his dreams, the time you’d spend in bed, reliving the passion, the tenderness, the love, something deep down he’s craved since the last time he was with you.

The elevator opens before he can speak, the gun raised in your hands as you exit, Joel at your back, both of you stopping in your tracks once you’re out, finding Marlene standing there with her handgun pointed towards you both.

“What’s your plan?” she asks. “You save her today, but what about tomorrow? There’s a lot of shit out there. How long before she’s killed by a pack of clickers? If she even makes it that long without being murdered first. Face it, you can’t save her.”

“We’ll sure as fuck try,” he grits out. “Stop pretendin’ like you care about her. You were happy to stand aside and let her die.”

“For the greater good, to save lives.”

“You can shove the greater good up your ass, Marlene.”

She sighs.

“You can still do the right thing.” Her attention moves to you. “Do the biopsy like you wanted. All I care about is finding the cure. I’ll put you in charge of the facility. You can lead in the vaccine’s development.”

You scoff.

“You know as well as I do,” you reply, “that I’ll be dead if I step one foot back inside there. You’re lying, Marlene. You and the rest of the Fireflies will want us killed for what happened today.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Marlene asks.

“Yours!” you exclaim. “For not listening to me. This is all your fault.”

A gun goes off, and Marlene stumbles, falling to her knees, her gun skittering across the ground when she loses her grip on it.

She’s holding her stomach, a blood stain expanding under her hands.

“Don’t,” she chokes out, looking at you with her face contorted in pain. “Don’t kill me. Let me go. Please.”

You and he both know what needs to be done.

“She ain’t safe with you alive,” he says, her attention moving to him.

“Please,” she pleads.

Another shot is fired, and Marlene’s lifeless body crumples to the ground.

“Come on,” you tell him, heading towards a nearby pickup, shouldering your rifle as you get the door open for him to set Ellie in the backseat, you disappearing for a minute and coming back to put gasoline canisters in the bed, along with a bag, telling him it had emergency rations and a first aid kit.

“Where will we go?” you ask when you get in the passenger seat, Joel already ready to drive.

“Wyoming,” he answers. “Tommy.”

Relief washes over your face.

“I’m happy to hear he’s alive,” you say softly.

A stone is in his stomach that he’ll have to tell you about Sarah.

“Yeah, that asshole’s still alive and kickin’,” he replies. “His wife scares the fuck outta me.”

“Wow, can’t believe someone married him.”

He chuckles.

“Me either—do you know how to get outta here?”

The truck’s started, Joel already driving.

“Yes!” you reply, directing him.

There’s not much talking as you make your way out of the city, both too nervous and expecting the worst. It feels like he can finally breathe once you’re on the highway heading toward Tommy’s.

Ellie’s still passed out, the pickup rumbling down the road.

“How long will she sleep for?” he asks, glancing at you.

“Oh, an hour or two,” you answer.

He nods. “We gotta do anythin’ for her?”

“Nope. Just have to wait for the drugs to wear off—she was given a cocktail that could knock out a horse.”

He frowns, nodding once.

“It’s sweet,” you reply, him seeing you with a soft smile on your lips.

“What’s that?” he asks.

“How much you care about her.”

His hands squeeze the steering wheel, the leather creaking.

“She’s a pain in the ass,” he grumbles.

That makes you laugh, and God, he’s missed that sound.

“Ellie apologizes, and I quote, ‘for being such a fucking pain in his ass,’” you giggle. “She also wanted to thank you for keeping her safe and not abandoning her.

His heart clenches up.

“She said those things?”

Your lips tip down, frowning.

“Yeah. Wanted me to tell you in case she didn’t make it.”

“Why’d you wanna save her?”

“It was the right thing to do. I fought for a way that she’d survive the operation, and I was outvoted—couldn’t let them murder her.”

After losing Sarah and thinking he lost you, too, Joel had erected walls in his mind to keep the debilitating grief he felt at bay, shoving down his emotions and not letting himself feel—couldn’t let himself feel, not if he wanted to live, which was already a struggle. This made him cold, emotionless, a husk of a man, having to keep finding something to fight for to keep going, only allowing his rage to come out in order to kill and do what was necessary to survive without a single care.

Tess would poke at the walls without meaning to, getting glimpses of his tenderness that she’d bat away and make him close back up.

Ellie made it her goal to break them down, him imagining her with a sledgehammer, laying waste to the concrete and steel, making him care, making him feel until she’d made a hole big enough to crawl inside and worm her way into his heart, the kid one of the most important people in his life now.

And then there’s you, coming out of nowhere and making the walls left standing crumble to dust simply by being here—the memories, the history, the love, igniting him, making him remember what it was like to feel again, focusing on the strongest emotion that has him feeling warmth deep down to his bones, contentedness, pure happiness, the feeling so strong he’s almost breathless.

You’re alive and with him, Ellie’s safe and sound, and he’s happy, actually happy, for the first time since everything went to hell.

And you care about Ellie, which just makes him love you even more, those butterflies in his stomach going wild.

“Thank you again for all you did,” he says.

“It’s no big deal.”

“You coulda died.”

“Would’ve been worth it.” You shrug.

He smiles.

“God, I’ve missed you.”

“Same. I have missed you every day since the last time I saw you.” Reaching your hand over, you touch his thigh, sadness on your face as you look at him. “Joel, I’m sorry about Sarah,” you say gently.

He sucks in a breath, avoiding your gaze.

“Yeah,” his voice is thick, his throat so tight it’s hard to speak, but you need to know what happened, Joel knowing how much you’d loved her, treating her as if she were your own. “It, uh, was my birthday when everything went down.”

Your hand goes to your mouth, gasping, “Joel, no.”

“Yeah.” He swallows hard. “Worst fuckin’ day of my life.” Tears were in his eyes. “Held her in my arms as she died—fuckin’ military shot her,” he spits out. “Tryin’ to contain everything they just started murderin’, took my baby girl from me,” he chokes on the words, a tear slipping down his face. “Lost her and thought I lost you, too, found your house in flames.” He wipes at the wetness in his eyes. “Fuckin’ hate remeberin’ that night—my entire world was taken from me.”

“Oh, Joel,” you whisper, moving across the bench seat to be next to him, Joel welcoming the hug you give him, wrapping your arm around his belly, and resting your head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that, and I’m just so fucking sad about Sarah,” you sniffle.

He reaches to press a hand against the back of your head.

“I know, baby,” he replies.

“Was Tommy with you?”

“Yeah. He kept me alive.”

“What’d you do?”

He lets out a long sigh.

“A lot of fucked up shit.”

“Haven’t we all?”

“I guess if you’re livin’, you’d have to.”

“Isn’t that so assbackwards? What were you doing before Ellie?”

“Boston—smuggling.”

“Oooh, a criminal, isn’t that sexy.” His hand moves to hold the steering wheel again, gulping. “Sorry,” you say quickly, sitting up. “It’s rude of me to flirt with you while you’re explaining all these horrible things. I don’t even know if you’re still single; for all I know, you could have a wife and kids back in Boston.”

“No wife and no kids—I can’t, not again.” He can’t help the somber tone of his voice.

He can tell you understand from the look on your face.

“I get it,” you reply. “I, uh, made sure I couldn’t have children. The world’s too fucked, and I didn’t want to risk anything. So, had a fellow doctor help me out.”

He’s sad remembering how when you were together, you’d wanted kids with him, at least two, you’d told him, and he’d been excited by the prospect, seeing how much you cared about Sarah and her adoring you. It was painful to think about, but he’d asked his daughter a week before his birthday over breakfast if she’d be okay if he married you. She’d been ecstatic and wanted to help him pick out the ring.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“Don’t be,” you wave away his apology. “Better safe than sorry.”

There’s a question sitting on the tip of his tongue that he finally asks.

“Do I gotta worry about a partner huntin’ us down to get you back?”

You scoff.

“No. Painfully single. Anyone I need to worry about?”

“Not anymore,” he answers. “There was someone months ago—they didn’t make it.”

“Jesus, Joel,” you gasp. “You can’t catch a fucking break. I know life is a bitch, but my god, do I feel like it’s taking a special interest in making you miserable.”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, that’s how it feels sometimes. God must be laughing at me.” He glances at you. “I think things are changin’ though after today. Finally think I’m gettin’ a goddamn break.”

You lean forward, knocking your knuckles on the dashboard.

“We don’t have wood, but I’m being safe—don’t want to jinx you.”

“Thanks for lookin’ out.” He smiles.

“Always.” You grin.

“Tell me what happened with you,” he says. “How’d I lose you?”

It’s something he’s wondered for twenty years, needing to know what happened to you.

“As you know, I was interning at the clinic to complete my residency—”

He did know that. You were fresh out of med school when you’d met, honestly surprising him that you let an old guy like him get your number.

“And I’d had your birthday off,” you continued. “When they called me in, I went, but something didn’t feel right about halfway, so I turned around to head back to your place. A tire went flat.”

“The spare was flat, too, wasn’t it?”

“Yes…”

“I told you I’d take care of it, but you wouldn’t let me.”

“I didn’t want to be a bother!”

“You weren’t no bother—you were my girlfriend, and it was my job to make sure you were safe. I shoulda just fuckin’ done it. Fuck.” He hits the steering wheel.

He felt like this was all his fault. So much could’ve been different if he’d done this one thing.

“Hey, hey.” You rub his arm. “This isn’t on you. I was the dumbass.”

He meets your eyes.

“Twenty years,” he says. “Fuckin’ lost you for twenty goddamn years because of a tire?”

He can’t fucking believe it.

You’re looking down, “Yeah,” you whisper.

He sighs loudly, squeezing your thigh.

“Sorry about gettin’ upset, it’s just, God, think of what our lives coulda been.”

“I’m sorry, Joel. I fucked up.”

“No, baby. You were busy becomin’ a doctor, already stretchin’ yourself thin datin’ me. I shoulda done more.”

“You did more than enough, and you had your own stuff to worry about—Sarah, your construction company. I’m an adult. I should’ve made sure my shit was taken care of.”

He sighs.

“You’re here now, and that’s all that matters.”

“I am.”

“What’d you do after gettin’ out of Austin?”

“Searched for you. Doctors were in need, so I traveled a lot in the early days offering aid and hoping I’d find you. Some years later, I got snatched up by the Fireflies, thinking maybe they had the right idea, eventually helping to try to make a vaccine. Was at the research facility for the last five years, but things were so fucked. I know I would’ve gotten out soon if I hadn't left today.”

“What do you wanna do now?”

He’s hoping you’ll say you want to stay with him, wanting you back.

“Um, well, seeing as I’m unattached, and you’re unattached, I thought I’d follow you around? Wherever you go, I’ll go,” you answer. “I’m not sure if you can tell, but I never got over you, Joel. Never. I thought I lost you, mourned what was and could’ve been, and I was never able to really be with anyone because I still loved you, and seeing you today, being with you, it’s evident I still love you. So, if you’ll have me, I wanna stay with you, I don’t want to be away from you ever again, and I know Ellie is important to you—I’ve known her less than a day, and she’s already pretty fucking important to me, too. She’s a good kid, and I’m glad you’ve got her. I’m just really fucking hoping you’d maybe want me around, too.”

His heart’s squeezing so tight it’s hard to breathe, so happy that you’d want to be with him again, but doubt rears its ugly head that this is all too good to be true, that you don’t know what you’re signing up for.

“I ain’t him,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“You’re not who?” you ask, confused.

“I ain’t the same man you fell in love with.”

“You think I don’t know you’ve changed? We killed together today. You’ve been referred to as a ‘grumpy asshole’ by someone who’s been around you for months. I’m not expecting you to be the man you were twenty years ago—we’ve been through literal hell. I know I sure as fuck am not the same.” You grab his thigh. “We can figure it out, get to know each other again. However, I think it’s safe to say with how easily we’ve fallen back into things, there isn’t much to worry about.” You softly smile. “We’re not the same people we were before this shit, but I think the love’s still there. At least, it is on my end. You’re fine, babe,” you reassure, rubbing over his jeans. “Don’t stress. We can make this work if you’re willing.”

He met your eyes, seeing the truth shining brightly in the depths and knowing without a doubt you meant what you were saying, wanting to kiss you so badly.

“I’m so fuckin’ willin’,” he says. “I just don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“Impossible.” You smile. “I’ll take you any way I can get you.”

He knows you mean it, and it has his heart swelling, thinking maybe things are changing for the better, that he’s being given a second chance at life, and he’s not gonna waste it.

“Wanna know the moment I knew you loved me?” he asks, reminiscing about the past.

It’s how he’d known you were the one for him.

A curious expression is on your face, smiling at him.

“Tell me.”

“When you didn’t even bat an eye at bein’ fired from the clinic in town for datin’ me.”

“Oh my god, I wasn’t fired. I was forcibly relocated.”

He chuckles.

“If that’s what you wanna call it. You datin’ a patient made it to where the only clinic that’d take you was an hour and a half away in the city.”

“You make it sound like I was dating you while you were still my patient—you were in my care once, and by the end of the appointment, you’d seduced me.” He snorts. “I was never your doctor again, so it wasn’t unethical. I had to be forcibly relocated for breaking a dumb clinic-specific rule that made zero sense because Janis was jealous you were dating me and not her and reported me. Fucking, Janis,” you seethe.

“If it makes you feel any better, she’s probably dead now,” he says.

You chortle before covering your mouth in shock.

“That’s fucking dark, Joel.”

“You were thinkin’ it.”

“I mean, yeah, the odds aren’t very good. You wanna know something, though, about the whole me being forcibly relocated to the city?”

He met your eyes, seeing that smile he loved.

“What’s that?”

“It was worth it—you were worth it. I’d do it all over again and happily be forcibly relocated so I can date you.”

That has him feeling soft.

“Am I still worth it?” he asks, barely above a whisper.

“Twenty years might have come and gone. I’m not that young piece of ass I once was—“

He makes a face, cutting you off, “You were never a piece of ass to me,” he says seriously. “I loved you—still love you, never fuckin’ stopped. Before everything went to fuckin’ shit, I saw us havin’ a life together—was gonna ask you to move in that night, had a key ready to give you. I wanted to marry you, have kids, and spend the rest of our lives together because you were my everything.” His voice cracks when he speaks again, “You and Sarah, you both were my entire fuckin’ world.” He clears his throat to compose himself. “I loved you so fuckin’ much I spent years tryin’ to find you. Years. When there wasn’t any sign, I figured I lost you, too, and with you gone, my last shred of humanity went, too, because I no longer had anythin’ to live for. I loved you,” he croaks. “I still love you, and I’ll never stop until the day I die.”

Tears roll down your cheeks.

“I love you, too,” you say.

His arm moves around your shoulder to pull you into him, hugging you as best he can and kissing your hair.

“I’m happy to have you back—want you with me if you can accept that I’m fucked up.”

“We’re in the same boat. It’s crazy what an apocalypse does to people.”

You stay like that, him holding you against him while you both talk, reminiscing about before, sharing your favorite stories about Sarah, comfortable with each other, and talking so easily like no time had passed at all.

An hour goes by, Joel navigating the road as you chat.

“I feel like I got hit by a truck,” a voice says in the backseat. Ellie sits up, rubbing her eyes. “My head feels so fucking weird.”

“Hey, take it easy,” he says. “Drugs are still wearin’ off.”

“Welcome to the land of the living,” you say.

She must notice how you’re cuddled up next to him, seeing her eyes get big in the rearview mirror.

“Woah, you really didn’t need those kissing tips, Doc.”

You snort, and Joel’s curious about what she means.

“What’s she talkin’ about?” he asks.

“She’s being a smartass.”

He huffs out an amused breath.

“She’s always a smartass,” he replies.

You move to look over the seat at her.

“Just feeling woozy? Anything hurt?” you ask.

“Brain’s all foggy. Nothing hurts.” She touches her head, looking confused. “What happened? Did they do the procedure?”

“They didn’t,” you answer, shaking your head. “We—”

He interrupts you, “They found somebody else,” he says quickly, knowing Ellie won’t take what you did well. “There was another like you, and they chose them.”

He doesn’t want to meet your eyes because he knows you’re staring him down.

Ellie’s not buying it; he can see it on her face, making him grimace, and swallow hard, knowing he fucked up, shame roiling in his gut.

“So, Joel is a fucking liar,” you say, eyes still on him. “I can’t believe you—she deserves to know.”

“She ain’t gonna like it,” he says.

“You don’t know that.”

“What won’t I like?” Ellie pipes up. “What’s going on, guys? Be straight with me, Doc.”

Your attention moves to her.

“They were going to kill you.”

“Oh,” she says quietly. “I was okay with dying if it meant saving people's lives.”

“That’s very courageous, Ellie, and I understand you want to help, but they didn’t need to kill you. What was the point if they had and a cure couldn’t be made?”

Her eyebrows furrow.

“They still would’ve had a chance to try!” she says hotly. Joel knew she’d be mad; the kid was determined to be a martyr. “It could’ve worked, and you took away my shot to help do some good!”

“They were going to murder you,” you calmly reply.

“I was willing to die!”

“Well, I ain’t willin’ to lose you!” His voice rises.

“It wasn’t your choice, Joel! It was mine!”

“You don’t know what you’re sayin’, and you ain’t listen’ to her either!” He tilts his head towards you. “They coulda gotten what they needed without murderin’ you, but they didn’t care.” He looks at you. “Baby, tell her your plan if you would’ve had the chance.”

“We could’ve gone in,” you say, “and biopsied some of the infection—it intertwines with the brain, so just a little bit somewhere that wouldn’t do you any harm.”

“Well, why don’t we go back there and do that then?” she asks, sounding hopeful.

You sigh.

“Because the Fireflies were so deadset on taking your entire brain, they were willing to kill anyone who got in their way.”

“You killed them,” she breathes, eyes wide.

“We did.” You nod.

“What do I do now? Why am I here?” She’s upset. “Why am I immune, Doc? Are there others like me?”

“We’ve never come across anyone else immune—somehow, the infection has mutated in your body. It’s a new development, something we’ve never seen.”

“And the people who could’ve figured out what the fuck is going on with me are all dead? Great.” She falls back into her seat, pressing her hands to her face. “I needed it all to mean something.” Her words are muffled, looking up at you with wet eyes. “All of the people who’ve died for me. First, my friend Riley who was there when I was bitten—the two of us planning to die together, and my turn never coming. Then Tess and Sam. It needs to mean something. Their deaths can’t have been for nothing! Why do I get to live, and they don’t? What’s the point of me being immune if I can’t do something good with it?”

“Hey, Ellie.” You reach over the seat to touch her arm. “There’s still hope. If I can get access to the right equipment, I can do the biopsy. It might take some time, but I’m capable and have spent many years working to find a cure. There’s hope, kiddo. They didn’t die for nothing, you’re still here, and we’ll have the chance to see what we find.”

“You promise?” she sniffs.

“I promise.”

“Okay.”

“Is there something you want to say, Joel?” You look at him pointedly.

He sighs.

“Sorry for lyin’ to you, Ellie. It wasn’t right.”

Her face lights up.

“Oh, Doc’s got you whipped!” she laughs. “This is so fucking funny.”

“Ellie,” he grumbles, glaring at her in the mirror.

“You’re fucking forgiven, Joel, but I’m still gonna give you shit about being in love,” she sing-songs.

“Christ,” he sighs.

“It’s okay, babe,” you say, rubbing his arm. “We’ll just gross her out with excessive PDA.”

That has him perking up.

“Excessive?” he asks, looking at you and seeing your mischievous smile.

“Wait,” Ellie says. “What’s PDA?”

“Public displays of affection,” you both say simultaneously.

She makes a face.

“Like kissing?” she asks.

You look at her, grinning.

“Yes,” you answer. “And inappropriate touching.”

“Ew.” Ellie mock gags. “Disgusting. I don’t need to see that shit. Keep it to yourselves.”

“Sometimes when two people love each other very much, they can’t help—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, sappy bullshit,” Ellie interrupts. “I’m good. Don’t look back here. I’m putting on actual clothes.”

About forty miles from Tommy’s, the truck breaks down on a mountain highway with no way to salvage it, having to walk the rest of the way, gathering your belongings for the half-day trek.

Ellie is a delightful conversationalist, telling you about the trip she and Joel made, poking jabs at him here and there that have him looking grumpy and you laughing.

The three of you are on high alert, even while talking, Joel and you gripping your rifles tight with the young girl between you as you walk for a few hours, finding an old abandoned farmhouse to stay in for the night when the sun begins to set.

It’s just your luck that there’s a stream running through the property, and though it’s too cold to fully bathe, you and Joel take the opportunity to wash up with a bar of soap pilfered from the home to get all of the blood and grime off your skin while Ellie explores the house.

There’s tension between you and Joel, and it’s thick, palpable, fueled by the shared looks and finding his eyes on your body more times than you can count; you’re just as obvious with your interest, checking him out at every opportunity, marveling at how his flannel hugs that chest of his, and his jeans making his ass look incredible, your fingers itching to touch him, and feel his warm skin.

To add fuel to the fire, he hasn’t kissed you yet.

Hours you’ve been back together, and not one single kiss to your lips, knowing he wants to, seeing his gaze lingering on your mouth when he talks to you, wondering to yourself what’s keeping him from going for it, and it was taking everything in you not to make the first move.

It has you desperate and aching, just wanting to feel his lips on yours and his arms around you once more, knowing it will be so fucking good, but in the back of your mind, you know his hesitance is Ellie. After what she said on the drive, he didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable, which was sweet of him, but it’s been twenty years, and you’re jonesing for just one kiss.

Inside the house, Joel goes about barricading all of the doors on the first floor with furniture, refusing your help, which leaves you to stand off to the side, getting flustered because the man’s putting on a damn show.

He pushes up his sleeves, allowing you to see his muscles flex as he works, seeing his strength while he manhandles a china cabinet, sinfully grunting, sweat beading on his skin. It has you all hot and bothered, thanking the powers that be, Ellie was in another room going through stuff so as not to see you openly gawking, knowing the girl would give you shit about it.

With the last door secure, he turns to you, wiping at his forehead with the back of his arm, a knowing smile on his lips when he asks, “Is there somethin’ on my face? You’ve been starin’ an awfully long time.”

You narrow your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Yeah, I was staring because you were being a damn tease.”

He matches your stance, crossing his arms and looking amused.

“I was movin’ furniture. How is that me bein’ a tease?”

“You were moving the furniture suggestively. You know exactly what you were doing.”

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. I was just makin’ sure we’re safe for the night.”

“Uh-huh, right. You’re a damn tease, Joel Miller.”

Three steps, and he’s in your space, your breath hitching when his big hands land on your hips, leaning his face close enough to your own that your noses almost touch.

You’d forgotten how much real estate his palms can take up, your skin tingling under their breadth, arousal burning in your belly.

“You think I was bein’ a tease?” he asks in a low rasp, his eyes moving between yours and your lips.

“Yes,” you breathe.

“Lemme show how much of a tease I can be, baby.”

Your eyes widen.

“Oh god.”

“You drippin’ for me? Thinkin’ about how it felt to have me inside? How I stretched you open? How you always felt me the next day?”

It feels like your skin is on fire, your body so hot, your heart pounding in your chest because now you are thinking about it, and it’s making you throb between your legs.

A whimper falls from your lips as he nudges your nose with his, mouths so close you can feel his breath.

“Bet your panties are drenched for me, baby. Bet you’d love me to slide my hand down them to touch your pretty little pussy, and feel just how wet you are.”

You’re pretty sure you’ll explode if he doesn’t do something, harshly whispering, “Fucking kiss me already, Joel!”

He smiles, chuckling.

“Got you all needy. Alright, I’ll kiss you.”

There’s a possibility your heart might jump out of your chest as he starts moving, knowing what’s about to happen.

“Fuck, I’m starving,” Ellie says as she enters the room. Joel steps away from you, and you cannot stop the strangled whine that comes from your throat. “You okay, Doc?”

Clearing your throat, you turn to face her, smiling.

“Just peachy.”

She seems to accept your answer, a book held in her hands.

“As I was saying,” Ellie starts. “I’m fucking starving. We got anything to eat?”

The three of you shared some jerky on the drive and nothing more, realizing you haven’t had an actual meal since that morning at the hospital, your stomach suddenly growling.

“Seems it’s dinner time,” Joel says. He looks at you, “You brought those rations, right?”

“I did,” you answer, walking to the rundown dining table that you’d plopped your bag onto, Joel’s backpack next to it. Rummaging through what you have, you say, “Looks like we’re having a variety of canned goods.”

“Got any peaches?” Ellie asks.

“Yep!” you answer, grabbing the can.

“Fuck yeah! I call dibs,” she replies, coming over to take it from you.

All of you sit at the table to eat, Joel across from you, Ellie at the head seat, everyone relatively quiet as you chow down, feeling his eyes on you and pretending like you don’t notice.

“What did you find?” you ask her.

She meets your gaze, setting down her fork to pick up the book.

“Something called ‘Jurassic Park,’” she says. “It’s got dinosaurs, which I thought was fucking cool.”

“The movies were really good,” you reply.

Her eyes get bigger.

“They made movies about this?” She holds it up.

“Yeah,” you answer. “Three. I’ve never read the book, though. Let me know how it is.”

“I’m gonna start it tonight after dinner. Did you ever see the movies, Joel?”

He doesn’t answer, too focused on you.

“Earth to Joel,” she says, leaning forward to wave her hand in front of his eyes, his head turning towards her quickly.

“Did you say somethin’?” he asks.

“Yeah.” She’s grinning, clearly amused. “You know, if you stare at her any harder, she might catch on fire.”

His eyebrows dip down.

“I wasn’t starin’,” he grumbles, his elbows on the table while he takes a bite, looking at his can.

“Jesus, Joel, I was not prepared for you being a lovesick fool. It’s honestly gross. Thank god you weren’t like this with Tess.”

His head snaps up as you tense, knowing she’s mentioned that name before.

“That’s enough, Ellie.” His tone’s severe.

You look at him, your eyebrows pinched together.

“Who’s Tess?” you ask.

Ellie’s eyes go big.

“Oh, shit,” she says. “I’m sorry, Joel. I didn’t realize she didn’t know.”

“Who’s Tess?” you ask again.

“It’s alright, Ellie,” He sighs, long and loud, running a hand through his hair. He looks at you. “Tess was my old partner in Boston. She, uh, died on the trip to bring Ellie to the Fireflies.”

“Oh,” you reply, nodding. “The one you’d mentioned. I’m sorry she didn’t make it.”

“It’s just how these things go,” he says.

“Your girlfriend died…” you say slowly. “You’re allowed to be sad about it.”

He grimaces.

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Well, I’m going to finish eating upstairs,” Ellie says, the chair scraping across the floor as she gets up quickly. “You two need to be alone.”

He looks at her.

“You don’t gotta do that,” he replies.

“No, no,” she says, grabbing her can and book. “I am so happy not to be a part of this.” She briskly walks away.

He sighs, pressing his hands to his face.

“What do you mean it wasn’t like that?” you ask. “If you were partners—clearly romantic…”

Meeting your gaze, he answers, “It wasn’t romantic. We cared about each other, we kept each other alive, and occasionally fucked, but there was nothing romantic about it. I didn’t feel that way about her, and can probably count on one hand how many times we even kissed. I didn’t love her. I couldn’t love her.”

You know the answer before you even ask the question, and still, it catches you by surprise.

“Why not?” you ask.

“Because she wasn’t you.”

“Joel,” you whisper.

“You were it for me. You were always it for me, and if I couldn’t have you, then I didn’t want anyone else.”

“It was the same for me,” you reply. “Felt cruel to try and be with someone when I could never love them, so I just didn’t.”

“Yeah. I was always upfront about what I was willin’ to give.”

“Gotta set expectations.” You nod. “Don’t want to hurt feelings.”

He lets out a long breath, looking away.

“Still got hurt anyway.”

“Honestly, if you told me not to fall in love with you, I think I’d just fall harder, so it makes sense.” You shrug. “You’re still a goddamn dreamboat of a man.”

His eyes meet yours again, crookedly smiling.

“Dreamboat?” he asks.

“God, yeah. Look at you. The grey is sexy, and my god, I think you have more muscles than when we were together.”

There’s a change in his gaze, seeing his eyes go darker.

“You wanna find out?” he asks.

“Um, yes, I would very much like to do a study and compare it to previous findings.”

He nods, pointing at your can.

“Finish eatin’.”

“But—”

“Dinner first,” he cuts you off. “Then you can check me out. Gonna need your energy.” He winks, and you gulp, rubbing your thighs together to ease the ache as you do as he says, both of you finishing your food in silence.

Ellie’s upstairs, and the two of you are alone down here, anticipation welling up inside you because you know at some point, everything between you both will finally erupt, and you can tell it’s going to be explosive.

He leans back in his chair when he finishes, resting his hands behind his head, his eyes on yours, waiting for you, and smiling when you push your can away.

His voice is deeper, drawl more pronounced when he speaks. “I was gonna stay down here and keep watch for the night,” he rasps. “You’re more than welcome to rest upstairs if you’re tired.”

He says one thing, but those darkened eyes of his say another.

“We both know I’m staying with you.”

Smiling, he replies, “I hoped you would.”

“There’s no furniture, so we’ll have to get comfortable on the floor.”

“If I remember correctly, you quite enjoyed the floor.” He smirks.

You suck in a breath, memories of the two of you being so turned on by the time you got back to your house, you didn’t make it past the entryway, him fucking you on the rug.

Your skin is burning up, clearing your throat.

“I’ll grab us some pillows from upstairs,” you say, the chair making noise as you get up.

He nods, “Okay.”

Quickly you’re moving, taking the stairs two at a time, figuring out which room Ellie’s in with the door shut, glad she chose one on the other side of the house and managing to find four pillows in the other rooms, hugging them to your chest as you return to Joel.

He’s looking out the living room window, his body tense, taking in his profile, his attention shifting to you when he hears your footsteps.

The center of the living room is bare, the lone couch against the front door, the coffee table pushed against a wall, leaving the space between you and him empty, stopping in your tracks when he faces you.

His shoulders visibly relax, the two of you stuck in place, staring at each other with looks like you cannot believe the other is there and alive. Years of thinking you’d never see one another again, and now you’re in the same room, breathing the same air, feeling so relieved and happy.

Something shifts, both of you realizing you’re alone and don’t have to fear any interruptions, the energy igniting, eyes going dark with want—all of the hours you’ve spent together building up the tension for this very moment, it snapping with the pillows falling to the floor, unable to keep away from each other any longer, closing the distance in quick steps.

His hands cup your face when he reaches you, crashing his mouth to yours, kissing you desperately, feeling his happiness, his joy, each press of his lips telling you he’s happy you’re alive and here with him. The passion has your fingers threading into his grey waves of hair for something to hold onto, gasping when he eagerly licks into your mouth, him groaning when his tongue slides along your own. Your blood is singing in your veins at how right it feels, how familiar it is, twenty years, and you still know how to kiss each other, finding your rhythm, not able to get enough, both so greedy you don’t stop until your lungs ache for oxygen, coming up for air with gasping breaths.

He’s kissing along your jaw, speaking into your skin, “I missed you so fuckin’ much, baby.”

“I missed you, too. Every goddamn day.”

Hands start wandering, needing to feel each other; he’s squeezing and touching anything he can; you’re working the buttons on his shirt and pushing it open to touch his warm skin, mapping out his muscles and the scars littered all over his torso that weren’t there before, wanting to kiss each and every one.

He’s sucking at your pulse point, palming your breast, his other hand grabbing a handful of your ass, your skin buzzing, arousal pooling in your belly.

“I love you,” he rasps as his lips meet yours again. “Never stopped lovin’ you,” he murmurs.

“I love you, too,” your words muffled, moaning when his hand finds its way between your legs, cupping your sex.

“I need you,” he says between kisses. “I’m so fuckin’ hard.” He grabs your hand to press it to his bulge, feeling him straining against his zipper, your cunt clenching at the reminder of just how big he is.

“Oh, god,” you moan. “I’ve missed your dick.”

“I’ve missed bein’ inside you. Wanna feel you again.”

As great as that sounds, your drenched panties indicating just how much you want it—there’s one small problem.

You pull back to see his eyes at half mast and glazed over in lust.

“We can’t fuck,” you say.

He frowns, eyebrows pinching together.

“Why not?” he asks.

“I love you, Joel. I love you a whole hell of a lot—would die for you, but you haven’t showered in days, you’re literally a walking UTI, and as much as I’d love to have that big dick inside me, I am not, risking an infection.” His frown goes deeper. “We can do other stuff, though!” you continue, and that gets his attention. “Hand stuff—no blow job until you’re clean,” you quickly add. He’s thinking it over, the wheels turning.

“I get it,” he finally responds. “You’re the doctor. You know what you’re talkin’ about. After a good scrub, you’d wanna?” he asks, looking hopeful.

“God, yes. I’m praying there’s someplace to wash when we get to Tommy’s.”

He smiles.

“They’ve got workin’ water in the houses—hot water. I can take a shower to get all nice and clean for you, and I’m sure he’ll set us up someplace with a bed.”

“Nobody better need us for a day or two, then,” you say, hooking your arms around his neck. “We won’t be leaving it.”

“Is that so?” He crookedly smiles.

“Oh, yeah. We’ve got time to make up for, and I want to feel you for days.”

He kisses your chin, lightly nibbling on it before trailing along your jaw to your neck.

“You gonna let me fuck you full of me? Fill you up?”

“Until I’m stuffed,” you moan, pussy pulsing at his words.

“Fuck,” Joel groans. “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me.”

“You love it, though.”

His head comes up, looking you in the eyes.

“Love you more,” he rasps, kissing you hard with his hands on your waist, thumbs playing with the waistband of your scrub pants. “When’s the last time you showered?” His question said into your lips.

“This morning.”

“Thank Christ.”

It’s disorienting how suddenly he pulls back, confusion on your face as he bends, roughly pulling your panties and pants down your legs.

“What are you doing, Joel?” you ask as the cool air hits your bare skin.

“I can’t fuck you, but you didn’t say anything about my mouth.”

He unties your shoes, sending them thudding across the floor.

“You’re gonna eat me out?” you gasp. “Right here.”

You have to hold onto his shoulders for balance as he gets your lower half undressed.

“Right fuckin’ here.”

Once you’re naked from the waist down, he’s groaning as he gets up, kissing you quickly before he moves the short distance to grab a pillow, letting it fall to the floor beside you when he returns, watching as he discards his shirt, and unbuckles his pants, getting them undone.

You can tell he has a plan, knowing exactly what he wants, and you’re happy to go along for the ride. A surprised sound leaves your mouth when he kisses you hard, all tongues and teeth, his body pressed to yours, his hand squeezing your bare ass, while the other moves down your front, moaning when blunt fingers slip through your folds.

“Fuck, you get so wet for me,” he says into your lips.

Your heart is thudding, pleasure radiating in your core as he pushes through your wetness, moaning when he circles your clit, unable to stop from canting your hips into his hand.

“Fuckin’ needy for me, baby.” He nips at your lip before kissing you hungrily, swallowing your soft sounds while your fingers grip his hair.

It’s been so long, and it feels just like you remember. Joel still knows how to play your body, gathering moisture on two fingertips to work against your bundle of nerves, applying the right pressure, circling it just how you liked, his tongue sliding along your own, heightening the arousal, building you up.

With your eyes closed, it feels like you’re back in that little house you had in Austin, him stopping by on his lunch break for a quickie, you both too horny to bother going to the bedroom.

“Wanna feel you come on my hand,” he murmurs.

You whine when he presses one thick finger into you, your hands gripping tighter in his grey waves, when the second one pushes in alongside it, stretching your walls and easing the ache of emptiness.

“Oh, fuck, Joel,” you moan. “It feels so good.”

He pumps his digits, hearing the wet suck of your pussy taking them, it sounding obscene between your legs, him working them in and out, filling you over and over again. His thumb presses into your clit, rubbing it while his fingers work; every nerve in your body lit up, fire burning in your belly, knowing this was going to be quick.

Your tongues are tangling, lost in what he’s doing to you, how he’s making you feel, memories of the past, happiness for the future now that he’s here, all of it overwhelming you, rocketing you towards your release, and he knows your close, has always been able to tell.

His mouth separates from yours to speak, “Open your eyes, baby. Wanna see you come.”

You do as he says, seeing his so dark only a sliver of brown remain, looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his entire life. Panting breaths filling the air, hearing his fingers, Joel taking up your vision, focusing on him, and only him, the world dropping away, everything else forgotten.

He crooks his fingers, and a second later, he’s hitting nirvana, a strangled moan pulled from your throat, your legs going wobbly at the white-hot jolt of pleasure, him having to hold you against him with his other arm to keep you standing.

“There it fuckin’ is,” he rasps. “Come for me—soak my fingers, baby.”

You tumble over the edge with a cry of his name, waves of your arousal spilling around his digits as you tense up, clenching down on him hard, your body alight in ecstasy.

“So good to me,” he groans. “My good fuckin’ girl.”

His mouth is back on yours, kissing you deeply as he works you through your orgasm, every muscle in your body relaxing, brain a pleasurable haze.

God, you’ve missed him. It’s been way too long since you’ve come that hard, and now that you’ve gotten one, you want more, need more.

He breaks the kiss, removing his fingers from you, and you miss them already.

He’s crookedly grinning, eyes bright.

“Do I still got it?” he asks cheekily.

You giggle, playfully slapping at his naked chest.

“Yes, you’ve still got it,” you reply. “Played me like a goddamn fiddle. Haven’t come like that since…” Your eyes squint while you think. “Well, fuck,” you say. “Haven’t come like that since you.”

His chest puffs up in pride, and it makes you snort.

He steals a kiss.

“Fuckin’ glad I didn’t forget how you like your pussy touched.”

“Obviously, it was important to your survival—gotta know how to shoot a gun and finger pussy.”

He chuckles, moving to look you in the eyes.

“Yeah. Lemme see if I remember how to eat it,” he husks, seeing the hunger in his gaze as he lewdly sucks you off his fingers with a groan making your cunt clench. His digits leave his mouth, “Taste even better than I remember. Can I eat your pussy?”

“Yeah,” you reply, nodding your head.

Thinking about it, you’re pretty sure the last person who gave you oral was Joel. Your body is thrumming in anticipation, feeling your arousal coating your inner thighs, excited because you know it will be good.

He crookedly smiles, tenderly kissing you before he gets onto the floor, his head on the pillow while he lays on his back.

This is where you get confused because you should be the one in that position, right?

Tapping on his chest, he says, “I need you to sit right here.”

That’s when it hits what he wants, and your eyes go wide.

“Joel, we are old. I’ll break your neck.”

He makes a face.

“Stop that. You’re not gonna break my neck. Just cause we’ve aged doesn’t mean you can’t sit on my face.”

“My knees would disagree.”

“That’s what the pillow’s for,” he smirks, patting it.

“Jesus Christ, Joel,” you say, moving to sit where he indicated.

Did you think this was a bad idea? Definitely, but the man is so damn eager that you can’t help but want to give it a go.

He’s looking up at you, his hands on your hips.

“Remember how I like it?” he asks.

“Basically suffocating between my thighs?” you ask with a raised eyebrow.

“Exactly,” he replies, slapping your ass and making you squeak.

“If you need to tap out, you better fucking do it, Joel.”

“Of course, baby. Now get up ‘ere. It’s been twenty years too long since I’ve tasted your pussy.”

“Well, aren’t you just rarin’ to go,” you tease.

“Givin’ me shit about how old I am, and now you’re makin’ fun of how I talk?” He smacks your ass again. “Bad girl. Stop hollerin’ down a well, darlin’, and ride my face—I’m rarin’ to eat your pretty little cunt.”

Your head falls back as you laugh, not at all surprised when hands grab onto your ass and start scooting you closer to his waiting mouth, Joel manhandling you into position.

“That was the most yeehaw you’ve ever sounded,” you giggle, your knees sinking into the cushiony pillow on either side of his head, appreciating that he thought to grab it.

You’re sitting up, hovering over his mouth, shivering when there’s a wet streak of lips pressing kisses along your inner thigh, savoring the scratch of his beard.

Fuck, he’s gonna have you coming quickly; you just know it with how your pussy is throbbing.

“You know I don’t fuckin’ talk like that,” he says below you, kissing your other thigh.

His hands are gripped tight on the globes of your ass, squeezing your plump flesh.

“No, you don—“ the word breaks into a moan as he pulls you down, breathing you in, the hot air ghosting over your sensitive flesh, sparks dancing in your center when he nudges your clit with his nose.

His voice is muffled, “Smell better than I remember,” he groans. “Gotta taste. Sit.”

He’s helping you lower down until you’re touching his skin, not satisfied until his face is fully buried in your sex. You scrabble for something to hold onto at the first swipe of his tongue, your fingers landing in his hair.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan.

One taste and he becomes ravenous, his loud groans vibrating against your heat, obscenely licking and sucking, his hands guiding you so he can slurp up every last drop of your arousal he can get, drinking down everything he can, relishing in the prickle of his facial hair.

It’s so much better than you ever could’ve imagined, the man feasting on you like a starving man, rocking your hips, his fingers digging into your ass, humming appreciatively as electricity ignites under your skin, body vibrating, Joel working you up.

You’re gasping his name, feeling your orgasm build. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking it into his mouth, the pleasure causing your eyes to roll back in your head, moaning loudly, tightening your fingers in his grey waves.

“I’m so close,” you gasp. “Oh, fuck, Joel. It’s so good. You’re so fucking good. I’ve missed you.” You’re so drunk on what he’s doing, you’re rambling. “I’ve missed this. Don’t stop. Make me come.”

You feel him groaning, Joel doubling down and focusing on your bundle of nerves—sucking it, licking it, lips and tongue worshipping you until you’re cresting, body seizing up as euphoria floods your system with a gasp of his name.

His loud, long groan vibrates against your sex, his mouth moving to drink your release straight from the source, pushing his tongue inside of you as deep as possible, licking into you eagerly, wanting to get every little bit of you as he can.

Your body’s trembling, pussy fluttering, panting out breaths, feeling so fucking good as Joel helps you ride out your high.

You can’t remember the last time you’ve had this much pleasure, and it’s intoxicating. You’re used to getting yourself off with your hand when the need arises and have only had a few partners over the years—the sex always quick and to the point, an orgasm never guaranteed, and here was Joel making you come twice in less than an hour.

He’s spoiling you, you’re addicted, you never want him to leave.

Broad strokes of his tongue through your slippery folds has your back arching, surprised he’s still going, knowing it must be hard to breathe down there. Your body is scorching, feeling like you’re burning from the inside out as he licks every inch of you, reacquainting himself with your cunt.

He lifts you up a little, and you hear him take a big breath.

“Ride my tongue, baby.” His voice is rough, strained. “Use me to get yourself off.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m damn sure.” He smacks your ass. “Be a good girl and use me.”

You suck in a breath, pussy squeezing hard around nothing. He doesn’t let you reply, sticking his tongue out and pulling you down on top of it.

Your legs are closed around his head, his beard scratching against your thighs, hanging onto his hair for balance.

Grinding yourself against the flat of his tongue, he lets out a long broken moan, his grip on your ass tightening as you do as he asks, chasing your pleasure, using him, still so sensitive from your previous orgasms that the familiar heat was already growing in the base of your spine.

His mouth is hot and wet, working yourself up, pressing your clit hard against his muscle, moaning at the sparks of electricity shooting through you as you rubbed along it over and over again.

He’s groaning loudly beneath you, and you can tell he’s enjoying this just as much as you are, going faster, eyes squeezed shut, panting out moans. You know your skin will be tender from his beard, and you don’t care—this is worth it, your pleasure heightening, muscles in your belly beginning to tighten, Joel drowning in your pussy.

The sensations overtake you, everything coming together, falling over the edge with a cry of his name. Your legs are squeezing his head so tight as the wave of pleasure rolls through you, starting in your core and spreading to the tips of your fingers and toes.

Joel makes a strangled noise beneath you that has your eyes flying open, almost falling on your face as you quickly move off of him, ending up with your ass on his chest, looking down at him between your legs, your heart hammering in fear that you killed him—his eyes are closed, face completely lax, and glistening from your juices, his arms laying limply at his sides.

“Joel?” You pat his cheek. “I swear to god, Joel, if you die from suffocating in my pussy, I am bringing you back to life to kill you myself.”

“Not dead,” he slurs, eyes still closed.

“Thank god.” You rub your thumbs over his eyebrows and down his cheeks, sliding your fingers into the hair over his ears, him humming contentedly. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Came so fuckin’ hard.”

Your eyes widen, looking behind you to find his softened cock out of his jeans and resting on his stomach, streaks of come painting his skin.

“Oh my god,” you breathe. Looking back at him, you ask in disbelief, “You got off from eating me out?”

“Yeah.” He smiles dreamily. “Fuckin’ love your pussy. Missed it so much.”

You snort, rubbing your finger down the bridge of his nose. With him so relaxed, he looks like your Joel from twenty years ago, and it makes your heart squeeze over all of the time you missed with him.

What would’ve been different if you’d been together when the world ended? Would Sarah be alive? Would the two of you have still survived all these years?

You let the questions disappear as quickly as they came because there’s no point in pondering them. What happened, happened. You’re just thankful that by some miracle you found him again, that you both are now determined to stick together and live whatever days you have left by each other's sides.

“Aren’t you a romantic.” You trace over his wet lips, which are surprisingly soft.

His hand comes up to grasp yours gently, his practically encompassing yours. Featherlight kisses are pressed to each of your knuckles and, finally, your palm. His eyes blink open, all heavy-lidded to look at you.

“Fuckin’ love you more,” he says softly.

You feel yourself melt under his tender gaze, seeing the truth in the dark depths of his eyes.

“I love you, too.”

“Are you guys done fucking?!” Ellie yells from upstairs.

Joel’s eyes go wide, cheeks turning red, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Give us a minute!” you reply.

“Okay!”

“Don’t look so embarrassed, Joel,” you say to him, tapping the tip of his nose. “It’s not the first time we’ve been caught, and I doubt it’ll be the last.”

He groans, pressing his hands to his face.

His words are muffled, “It’s just as embarrassin’ today as it was twenty fuckin’ years ago.”

“Hey, look on the bright side, babe. Ellie didn’t see anything. Remember how scarred Sarah was that one morning you forgot to lock the door? Thank god we were under the covers, but I thought she’d need therapy.”

“Don’t remind me,” he replies, looking at you again. “Taught her to knock, though.”

“Yeah, it did.”

There’s a lot of groaning as you both get up from the floor, knees not as young as they once were, Joel and you agreeing that maybe you guys should stick to fucking on furniture. After a quick search of the downstairs, you’re able to find a relatively clean towel for Joel to clean up with; you're already dressed. He hollers at Ellie that it’s safe to come down after his shirt is put back on and pants are righted.

She stomps down the stairs like she wants to make sure the two of you know she’s on her way, you and Joel standing by the dining table, passing a bottle of water between each other.

She covers her eyes with one hand when she enters the living room.

Joel huffs out an amused breath, shaking his head as he takes a drink when he sees her.

“There’s zero nudity, Ellie,” you reassure her. “It’s safe to look.”

She uncovers her eyes, “Can’t be too safe,” she says. “Last thing I want is to have to gauge my eyes out because I saw Joel’s old ass.” She makes a disgusted face, and you laugh, Joel snorting.

��What happened to spendin’ the evenin’ readin’ your new book?” Joel asks her.

“Ran out of water,” she answers, holding up her water bottle. “I’m fucking thirsty. Please tell me, one of you has extra.”

“Yes!” you respond, turning to get into your bag and grabbing a container of water. “Here you go, kiddo.”

She’s briskly walking over to take it, unscrewing it right away to take a few big gulps, sighing happily when she finishes.

“Fuck, that’s good,” she says, wiping at her mouth. Ellie looks between you both. “Thought I was gonna be stuck up there all night. So, based on how you were all over each other in the truck and the disgusting noises that I wish I could unhear, I’ll take it, Doc, and you are back together?” she asks Joel.

His ears are bright red, clearing his throat.

“That we are,” he answers, not meeting her eyes.

“Are you fucking blushing?” she teases.

“Ellie,” he grumbles, glaring at her.

“I’m just giving you shit, Joel. Hopefully, she can help pull that stick out of your ass.”

He sighs, and she laughs.

“I’m happy for you, ya big ol’ grump. Doc’s great! I see why you like her, and Jesus, I’m not into sappy romantic bullshit, but you guys have a great fucking story.”

“We really do,” you say, looking at him and finding his eyes are already on you.

“That we do,” he agrees, a soft smile on his lips, leaning in to kiss you.

“Oh, gross.” Ellie sounds disgusted, fake gagging. “I’m going back upstairs. I don’t wanna see this, and I definitely don’t wanna hear anything, so please keep it down. Yuck.” She doesn’t wait for a response, walking away.

You pull apart, looking at Joel.

“We’ve scarred another kid,” you laugh.

“I don’t think, too bad, though,” he chuckles.

“No, not too bad. Now, if she saw your old ass, she’d definitely need therapy.”

He frowns.

“My ass ain’t old.”

“I mean…” you pause, leaning to look behind him at it. “It’s still really nice. Like my god, you could bounce a quarter off it, and the way that I wanna touch it.” You straighten, meeting his eyes. “After you shower and I can get you naked, I am absolutely getting a closer look.”

He smirks, setting the water bottle down on the table, so he can pull you into his arms.

“Yeah?” he asks.

“Oh, yeah.”

His head moves closer, hovering his lips over yours.

“When I can get you naked,” he rasps, “I’m spreadin’ you out on a bed and spendin’ hours between your legs, usin’ all that God gave me to make you come so many times you pass out.”

“Is that a promise?”

“You know it is, baby.” His lips meet yours, kissing the air from your lungs.

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