#fic: i'll crawl home to her | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tripleyeeet · 6 months

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I'LL CRAWL HOME TO HER (14)

SUMMARY: Upon waking up, you realize just how long you've been gone for.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 3,257

WARNINGS: Spoilers for Act 2, so much angst (this time with comfort!), descriptions of death, probably incorrect lore about necromancers and how their powers work. :')

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi, we're officially back in business baby, let's go! Sorry for the fillerish chapter. It's been so long that I kind of needed to keep things chill before the story starts up again. Hope you can forgive me??? <3 Also, thanks to @the-lady-amphitrite for letting me include their little necromancer Zamrie!

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER

It’s not uncommon for you to wake up breathless. With the presence of an unknown threat mixed with your history of nightmares, there have been countless moments upon gaining consciousness over the last few months that have felt like you’re dying. Gasping for air to no avail until Astarion’s hand meets your back to soothe your stress.

At this rate, it’s practically inevitable, especially with the Absolute and all its developments. Each night you close your eyes, more often than not all you see is their hatred plaguing your thoughts, your mind forcing you to stop and stare at whatever vision it’s decided to produce. As you lie still inside your bedroll, experiencing the false depictions of whatever horrors that occur, you’re left without much choice. Forced to lay and wait for that moment you’re jolted awake, wheezing in the dark.

Despite the intensity, you know deep down it’s always temporary. A passing thought that runs through your lungs until you’re forced to reset at the sound of Astarion’s voice telling you you’re fine. That he’s here and you’re there and that regardless of the dangers that lie ahead he’ll always remain.

When you awake that day, however, gagging at the air that rushes through to the back of your throat, you can’t help but feel the weight of eternity. As you shoot upwards, desperately clawing at the base of your throat, it’s as if you’re trapped inside this unfamiliar limbo, struggling to gain a sense of self as you blink and breathe and—

“That’s it, just like that, dearie. You got it.”

The voice that cuts through the darkness is light, their careful tone hitting your ears far gentler than anything else you feel. Closing your eyes, you can hear them humming under their breath, low and slow; working to match your own as you glance around the room, unable to properly see.

“Pesi, can you get her friends, please?”

Inhaling deeply, you suddenly feel a sharp pain erupt through your chest as the stranger speaks. Targeting your left side, you feel it push through you like a knife, catching every layer of flesh as you lean forward and groan at the impact, feeling a hand grace your back.

“It’s alright, just take deep breaths, okay? Nice and slow.”

Opening your mouth, you cough and clutch your chest, allowing the painful feeling to bloom outwards, each shot of pain targeting the span of your torso before filtering out.

As it happens, you force open your eyes and glance at the blurry mess of colour in front of you. A figure doused in sunset tones —pinks and oranges with hints of purple that slowly filter through to reveal a bright-eyed tiefling smiling in your direction. Overall, her skin is doused in shades of peach and decorated with various tattooed dots that primarily sit beneath her violet eyes that scan you anxiously.

“I’m Zamrie. A friend of Gale’s,” she tells you.

In response, you go to speak but all that comes out is a plume of stinging air that rakes through your esophagus, making you cough and reach for your throat, feeling nothing but numbness at the ends of your fingers.

“It’ll feel weird for a while I’m afraid.” She offers you a sympathetic smile, gripping your shoulder as the expression across your face twists with confusion.

How does she know what it feels like?

Suddenly, she lets out a laugh, gently digging her fingers into your skin, massaging the tension that you just now notice is there. “I know, I know —you’re probably wondering how I know how you’re feeling,” she says, making your confusion only strengthen as she nudges your legs aside to make room for herself. “Rest assured though, I’ve lived and died a thousand times, so I’m basically an expert when it comes to the after effects of a good necromancy spell.”

Necromancy?

Your eyes widen —your thoughts whirling through you like a disoriented storm, crashing into the inner walls of your head. Looking around in a panic, you hear Zamrie try to pull you back in, whispering words of reassurance in between more quiet hums that only spur your anxiety.

Shoving away her hands, you attempt to slip off the bed then, your legs wobbling at their newfound position, causing you to stumble forward, landing on your hands and knees.

“Oh, shit.”

Almost immediately, the tiefling abruptly rushes to your aid, reaching for hands that only work to slap her away, prompting her brow to furrow as she watches you struggle to move. “C’mon dear, don’t be proud. Just let me help you.”

You shake your head and groan, feeling your chest begin to ache all over again —the remembrance of your reality beginning to settle as you lower your head in pain.

You died during the battle against Ketheric. Died. And as you sit there, now keeled over in pain, remembering all the horrible details of that blade pushing through your flesh —of the helplessness you felt staring into Astarion’s weary eyes as Shadowheart worked to drag him away— all you can think about is how careless you’d been. How stupid and reckless and overall selfish for thinking that you could do anything on your own like that.

Gritting your teeth, you feel the numbness in your fingers slowly begin to subside the longer you kneel, granting you the opportunity to ball your hands into fists before pressing them angrily into the floorboards. Groaning loudly, you then punch the wood with what little energy you have, feeling your eyes begin to well up at the thought of your friends. At the thought of them potentially following in your footsteps into a world where everything meets nothing. Where every existing thing about you ceases all at once, leaving nothing but a shell for those to mourn.

Releasing a shaky breath, you stare at the floor beneath you, praying that nobody did. That instead, they managed to succeed despite your failure and that they’re already on their way to Baldur’s Gate.

“Where…wha—“

“Shhh, it’s okay. Everything’s okay, yeah? You’re alright.”

Grunting in frustration, you shake your head and look at Zamrie, feeling the tears begin to spill as you glance at her face, noting the stress that graces her features before the shock of loud voices erupts through the doorway, prompting her brows to raise before she turns her head.

Following her gaze, you look up to see everyone huddled at the doorway, staring with varied looks that upstart your tears, realizing how worried they must have been. How angry and betrayed they must have felt watching you do something so painfully stupid.

As you sit there, glancing at each of their faces, you can’t help but feel your heart break at such a realization. Taking in Karlach’s glassy eyes and Gale’s expression of pure relief —all of it quickly becomes too much to bear, forcing your head to drop again, allowing the threat of tears to overtake you.

All at once, the awareness of their love becomes apparent then, causing you to sob until all you can feel is the presence of arms and hands —bodies of all shapes and sizes wrapping around your frame like a warm blanket on a cold winter night.

All of them envelope you differently. While Shadowheart and Gale press themselves firmly against your back, Lae’zel’s hands are reluctant yet firm from a distance, taking refuge on your elbow with tight fingers, while Wyll and Karlach have completely pushed themselves into either crook of your neck, wrapping their arms around to pull you close.

Feeling the warmth of their skin and the heaviness of their breath, you can’t help but give in to the fearful thoughts that plague your mind. The way they hold you close, bracing for an impact you all but knew was bound to come, you let the stress of the last few months overtake you, reaching for whatever body you can find so that you can dig your fingers into the fabric of their clothes.

Immediately, the worn leather of whoever you're touching reminds you of war —of all the battles you faced thus far, struggling to maintain that same momentum you first started with. Running your fingers along the wear and tear, you feel a weight inside your stomach begin to swell, its unfamiliar heaviness making your face scrunch in discomfort, realizing this might be it. Having died and come back, there’s no way you could possibly keep going, right? After revival, you’re too weak to keep up —too broken and frail. A newly inhabited shell, replacing something that used to be much stronger.

At this rate, you’d only hold everyone back. Either that or make another big mistake that could cost more lives and obliviously that’s not an option. Not after how far you’ve gotten. Not after risking so much with what little you have.

“I can’t believe we’re hugging right now.”

Unsurprisingly, it’s Karlach who speaks first. Her voice quiet against the crook of your neck sends a chill up your spine like any other, causing you to let out a shaky laugh.

You can’t believe it either.

“She’s a bit out of sorts still,” Zamrie says then, forcing your eyes to glance up at her smiling face. “She’ll need to rest for a few more days. The process of revival is pretty taxing on the body. Considering you’re essentially reconnecting a detached soul to an already decaying body, you’re lucky you managed to preserve her as well as you did.”

As she pauses to let out a laugh, the majority of your friends sort of look around in discomfort, listening as Zamrie continues her long-winded spiel about the process of revival. All in too great of detail.

Almost immediately, it makes you a bit sick, listening to the grotesque ways your body was essentially put back together at the hands of her and Withers, forcing you to close your eyes as your head begins to spin. You realize then that you should probably lie down again. Considering there’s more than likely a rough road to recovery ahead of you, you assume most of your time spent over the next few days will be in bed, drifting between sleep alongside Astarion’s—

Feeling a sudden panic rise through your chest, you look around to see him nowhere, causing your mind to slip further out of control, resulting in you pushing and pulling —desperate movements taking over your body as you work to distance yourself from the hold that currently binds you. Sensing your stress, the group quickly distances themselves in response, a handful of nervous and reluctant stares watching as you plant one hand against the floor to steady yourself while the other moves to your throat.

“Wh— where—“

You cough violently as the previous ache in your throat rips right through, interrupting your words in the form of a distorted wheeze.

As it happens, you can’t help but think of the worst possible outcome regarding his absence. Imagining his lifeless body somewhere all alone, trapped beneath the rubble of an aftermath of battle, all you can see is his flesh. Pale skin stained with crimson, all torn apart to reveal the inner parts of himself. Amongst the rubble, you envision tendons splitting between broken bones —a lifeless face ripped with wild red eyes so empty compared to the life they once held. Tightly shutting your eyes, you imagine shattered fangs and cut-up lips left open in preparation for a dying breath you never got the chance to try and fix.

Suddenly behind your eye, you can feel your tadpole wiggling violently. Rushing from one end to the other, its presence quickly wreaks havoc on your skull, forcing a groan to escape your lips, realizing someone’s there. That there’s a voice calling out to you, telling you it’s okay —that everything's fine and he’s safe, so please stop crying.

Focusing on the voice, you hear Shadowheart’s tone eventually begin to push through, prompting your tear-stained eyes to drift to her, catching a soft smile. It’s subtle, as most of her outward emotions are, but regardless it speaks volumes. Reassuring you in a way that makes you smile back, mentally thanking her again and again until there’s a set of footsteps at the doorway.

“What the hell are you all—“

His words are dripping in confusion. Rattling through your system like an echo of waves, the mere thought of it pulls you forward, forcing your body to crawl closer, watching the way his eyes glaze over once he catches sight of your crumpled frame.

As soon as he notices, he promptly pushes past all the bodies that separate you, breathing so hard that when he inevitably drops to his knees in front of you, clawing at the fabric of your tunic to pull you into his chest, you can feel it shaking. Rising and falling through the stress of his unbound anxiety, showing you just how much he missed you. How much he longed for your presence however long you were gone.

Feeling him shiver against you, you immediately break, crying harder than you ever have before. Allowing the catharsis of your shared embrace to fill up the room with desperate sobs that leave both of you breathless.

Gripping the base of his shoulder blades, you then maneuver your body until you’re completely wrapped around him, sitting on his lap, tugging at tufts of hair as you push your fingers through his curls.

“Star…”

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay,” he speaks with disbelief, clutching you tight. As if the fear of this all being a dream has led him to believe that if you part somehow you’ll disappear entirely.

Nodding against him, you press a gentle kiss to the side of his neck before pressing your forehead into the same spot, feeling him shift.

“When did you wake?”

You open your mouth to speak before swallowing hard, opting to use your Illithid. Not long ago. Where were you?

Getting supplies. I’m sorry I wasn’t there. Zamrie said—

Before he can finish his thought your hands are on his face, fingers splayed out to cup the delicate angles as you press your lips to his, feeling how cold they are. How the temperature bites against your own, forcing you to work for the heat you long for in the form of languid licks and nips that have you dizzy all over again.

Hearing the background sound of footsteps followed by the shutting of a door, you can’t help but grin through the movement of Astarion’s mouth pushing open your own, realizing then that you’re alone. That for the first time in ages it’s just you and him and both of you safe from whatever evils lurk beyond the exit.

“I’m still…very much…mad at you,” he eventually says, groaning between the kisses you steal through his frustrated tone —no longer caring if your behaviour bites you in the ass later.

That’s fair.

He snorts as he places a hand on the back of your neck, placing one last kiss to the edge of your mouth before pulling away, looking at you with narrowed eyes. “I can’t believe you left me with those idiots. Do you know how boring they are? I swear, the minute we arrived in Baldur’s it was like—“

You roughly tug at the collar of his shirt to get his attention, widening your eyes. Wait, we’re in Baldur’s?

In response, he immediately huffs. “Gods, of course nobody told you. They were probably too busy hugging you to death all over again,” he says. “I swear, it’s been nothing but chaos since you left. Karlach’s been crying for weeks. Shadowheart and Lae’zel have been at each other’s —ow!”

You narrow your eyes and pinch his cheek. Astarion, what the hell happened?

For a moment he just sits there, watching you with those angered eyes that make your chest tighten and your stomach flip, remembering then that none of it matters anyway. That for now, despite the lingering curiosity of it all festering at the back of your mind, wondering how long it’s been and how everyone’s truly fared, you don’t care. So long as everyone’s alive and well and the progress you’ve worked so hard to push through is still on track, all you care about is him.

Are you okay?

Even with his unwavering resilience, you know deep down that he hasn’t come up the other side unscathed. That regardless of what he might say in replacement of the truth, there’s something uneasy hidden beneath the surface. You can see it in his eyes. In the way they drop almost immediately at your words, his expression shifting from anger to confusion to a mix of something foreign you can’t quite place.

Opening his mouth, you see the quiver of his lips. The wobbling motion of uncertainty before he suppresses his thoughts, swallowing hard at the presence of fear to say, “I’m fine. Now that you’re here.”

Frowning then, you trail your thumb across his cheek, tracing the peaks and valleys of his flesh, skimming thoughtful patterns across the expanse of his face, eventually winding up at his lips. Thumbing the lower one, you press your own together and look at him with tired eyes, surveying the age of a man who’s so obviously been pushed to his limits.

Yes, but are you okay?

He isn’t. Not in the slightest. And you can tell because the moment you ask he’s crumbling all over again, clutching your frame —pulling you in with far too much effort for someone who claims such nonchalance.

Pressing his digits roughly into your flesh, it’s as if he’s changed completely. What once was a man of constant mischief —a man with unlimited lies and tricks up his sleeve to hide the truest version of himself— has now become too honest. Too candid in the way he presents himself as he clutches onto your frame, acting as if you’re the last sliver of light in a forever-darkened sky.

It breaks your heart almost instantly, feeling the tremors of his body releasing all the pent-up anger and betrayal —all the sadness of a passing he was ill-prepared to handle. Fisting the fabric that rests against his back, you grant him access to your neck without hesitation, feeling him burrow inside, whispering all the thoughts he couldn’t say when both of you were separate and alone.

Inside your mind, you can feel the pain of his Illithid showing you a memory. A flash of magic mixed with a broken man’s cry filtering through closed lips. Unlike anything you’ve ever heard, it punctures your ears like a needle, painfully pushing through until it’s all but cut off without warning revealing the face of your last dying breath before everything goes black.

“We tried to save you sooner,” he whispers, placing a kiss to your neck, then to the fabric that rests against your shoulder. “But every moment between then and now was spent fighting those bastards.”

You place a hand on his hair, gently running your fingers through before repeating the process, hearing him breathe.

“We’d only just arrived this morning, I swear.”

You smile then, pressing a kiss to his head, telling him that it’s okay. That he’s okay and you’re okay, repeating the words over and over until you can feel his body begin to loosen at the seams, granting you both a moment of relief before he tells you he loves you and you do the same.

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#i'll crawl home to her #a lover’s folly #astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion fan fic #astarion series #astarion x female reader #astarion x reader #astarion x you #summer writes

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queers-gambit · 8 months

Text

God's Plan

prompt: your boyfriend carries the worst parts of his job home, bringing to life one of your deepest-seeded insecurities. or when Carmy calls you clingy.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader pairing: Carmy x Peach

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

word count: 3.3k+

note: she's short. she's to the point. author doesn't want to hear a GODDAMN THING about "glorifying" toxic relationships. shut the fuck up, eat your cereal, read the fic or just scroll away.

warnings: cursing, small angst, short fic, author mildly gave up, hurt with no real comfort, allusion to toxic family relationship, insecurity, not edited.

part two: Two to Tango

browse Clingy Baby collection masterlist here

"Hey, what're you still doin' here?"

You glanced up from your computer, smiling at your coworker, "Just trying to get the study notes finished so they can be used for the analysis."

"Okay...? But you realize what time it is, right?"

You hummed, glancing at the analog clock, "Just about 7?"

"Yeah, so, go home," she chuckled. "Work's still gonna be here tomorrow."

"I'll see you then," you dismissed softly, watching her smile and turn away from your desk. You tried to get back into work, but the truth was, you felt overly burned out, but still wanted to work because it'd make you feel better being "good" at your job.

So, in reality, you didn't get home until 10:56 pm, yet still beat Carmy. You ate something simple, cleaned up, got a shower, and crashed into bed. You didn't know the time, but Carmy eventually came home; his arm heavy around you when settling for sleep.

You were the first up and out the door the next morning, just barely seeing Carmy when he got up for coffee. You managed a single kiss before rushing away, needing to get to work on time. When you got there, your entire morning was blocked for client meetings, then you took lunch, later, team meetings, and then the last hour or so of work was meant for individual recreation.

Another day of staying late, trying to finish work you thought was important. Another day of getting home late, missing your man, going to bed, and only seeing him the following morning.

However, this time at work, your boss told you that the analysis meetings were pushed back by a week... So, technically, you stayed late and busted your ass for no literal reason! And your coworker's entire cup of coffee spilled on you. And your Outlook email was under maintenance, so, you couldn't really work. And then, to top off a really shitty week, your car was hit in the parking lot and now had a huge fucking dent.

You were beat.

You were overwhelmed.

You were miserable, stressed, righteously confused.

You didn't stay late that night. Instead, you left at a normal hour and texted Carmy:

what time do you think you'll be off?

He replied when you got to your car:

maybe around 8?

You sniffled, nodding, answering:

okay, see you when you get home.

As you exited the parking lot, he replied:

what? you're off?

And you answered:

yeah, couldn't stand being there much longer. think you could get off a little early?

When you made three turns, he sent back:

i'll try, peach 💙

When you got home, you felt utterly defeated. Life felt like a never ending shitshow that refused to alleviate most of the stress you forced to endure. You were in tears by the time you got in the door, angrily stripping and getting a long, hot shower. You cried a little longer. When you got out, you got dressed in cozy shorts and one of Carmy's sweatshirts; going about a few household chores when you realized it was already past 9.

You didn't really want to, but you texted Carmy again,

hey, are you gonna be much later?

You made a simple meal, eating it in silence. When you were doing dishes, Carmy answered,

i don't know, going over menu items with syd. text you on my way home

You just went to bed, exhaustion from the week catching up to you.

Sometime later, you felt Carmy crawl into bed beside you. You were only half awake, but still turned over and nestled into his chest, hearing him sigh. "You're home late," you mumbled.

"Sorry f'wakin' you, Peach," he whispered, pecking your forehead. "You good, baby?"

"S'been a long fuckin' week," you squeezed him.

He sighed, "Sorry it was rough, Peach, but hey, hey, back up a little, 's kinda warm."

"But I haven't seen you."

"I know, but it's just warm. We'll cuddle in the morning, okay?" You only sighed and turned back over to face away from him. You resettled with your pillow, just settling when he asked in a hardened tone, "You mad?"

"No, Carmen, go to sleep."

"You sound mad."

"I'm not."

"I don't mean to piss you off, it's just been a long night f'me and I don't want to cuddle right now," he said in a sharp tone that made your stomach coil and churn.

"Shut up, I'm not mad, Carmen, go to sleep."

He scoffed, your irritation spiking. "You're really fucking mad 'cause I don't want you laying on me right now?"

"No, Carmen, Jesus - "

"Callin' me fuckin' Carmen doesn't help," he snapped.

You sat up and turned to him, "You want me to be mad? Maybe I'm a little pissed off that I've barely seen my boyfriend this week! Not like you've made an effort to speak to me, but I've had a pretty shitty time at work, too - so, excuse the fuck outta me for feeling disappointed!"

"Disappointed in fucking what, Peach? In not wanting t'cuddle right now?"

"Maybe, yeah! I'm upset, stressed out, maybe I just wanted some comfort, God! Now you're all up in arms, I just wanted to go to sleep - but no, you want to pick at me!"

"Oh, Jesus, fucking Christ! You couldn't just talk to me about you having a shitty week, you gotta be laid up on me? When the fuck did you get so Goddamn clingy and desperate for fucking attention? Huh? So fucking desperate for love? Sorry you had a shitty week, darling, but you're not alone in that. Sorry if it's fucking hot and I just want to sleep."

Feeling yourself fighting a losing battle because he wasn't listening, you just sighed, "Okay, Carmen."

He scoffed again, turning over to face away from you, "Know what? Fuck you, sweetheart."

You stared at his back for a long minute, feeling shocked by his words. "You can be such a fucking dick, you know that?" You snapped, standing from bed.

"And you can be a dramatic bitch."

"Yeah, that's me, the bitch you chose, huh!?" You rolled your eyes and nodded sarcastically; taking the blanket from the end of the bed, figuring he wouldn't miss it since he was so fucking hot. With only your phone and charger, you went out to the living room and crashed on the couch; covering up and crying quietly into a pillow from the overwhelming stress built in your chest. You felt guilt plunging your stomach, tearing it apart; feeling as if it were your fault for having physical touch as a love language.

Sleep evaded you that night. About an hour before your alarm, you called in sick and shut your phone off, resettling in misery as Carmy left the bedroom for work. You didn't move, never opened your eyes. However, they popped open in surprise when Carmen shoved your shoulder, "Hey."

"What?" You muttered.

"You're late for work."

"Called in."

He snorted, "Yeah, must be nice."

You didn't say anything else, feeling utterly defeated by his sharp words. The lack of response made Carmy pause and glance over at you from the kitchen, honest surprise coloring his system because he usually knew you to bite back. But you were quiet and still, the only indication you were even alive being the slow drag of your shoulders.

He let the door slam after he left for work, and you instantly sobbed. What you didn't know was that Carmy had come back, forgetting something mundane, and came to a halt outside the door when he heard you crying. He felt guilty, but Carmy wasn't usually one to confront problems; he instead ran away, like always.

After a night of exhaustion, you finally cry yourself to sleep.

When Carmy got home that night after work, he found you still huddled on the couch. After a look around, he realized you hadn't moved all day; nothing to eat, nothing to drink... He wanted to wake you but still felt so fucking irritated from his job that the idea of reconciling with you felt far fetched. So, he did what he did best and isolated himself by going to the gym for a few hours.

You still hadn't woken up when he got back.

So, he just went to bed; hating sleeping alone but hating his pride more because it refused to let him get up and go get you. Carry you to bed. Smother you in apologies. Beg for forgiveness. He was cold that night.

You were awake around 4 am.

The entire apartment felt as cold and aloof as your boyfriend. You felt so silly for still being there, knowing you paid for an apartment of your own, but liking that Carmy's place was closer to your work. And he never asked you to leave, in fact, the times you went home, he was calling you within hours to beg you to come back because he hated sleeping alone.

Whatever happened to that lad? The one who was so in-love with you that he would desperately ask you to come "home" to him? Who was this man now? Who called you clingy, desperate... A bitch.

You could only stand to make coffee, feeling powerless in this tension. You didn't want him to ignore you any longer, feeling like you'd drop to your knees for his forgiveness if it would end this feud; but you weren't so naïve. You spent several long minutes mentally prepping yourself for more anxiety, telling yourself you could handle the day if you just powered through it. Everything should be fine so long as you didn't do anything else to upset him, as long as you didn't do anything to warrant him yelling at you - again.

You finally decided on an emotion, since you could feel so many at any given point in time, and since this situation was one you've never encountered before. Carmy had brought forth one of your biggest insecurities and then smashed it in your face like punk-ass siblings did to your birthday cake. You decided you were hurt by his words, tone, and actions; you were hurt by the man you loved unconditionally, and that was a terrifying thought on its own. He was once a man you thought couldn't do any wrong, to now being a man you were unsure of how to even speak to; fearful, as you once were as a child, to upset him and create hostility directed at you.

Carmy often forgot he didn't have a monopoly on toxic, complicated family dynamics, but being that Mikey was still so fresh for him, you kept quiet about your own issues in an effort to be a loving, supportive girlfriend. Yet even while trying not to upset anyone, to create tension, you somehow managed to. You felt your heart and soul shrivel into a withered raisin when you remembered your family and how they constantly put you down; saying that nobody wanted a girl like you who tried, tried, and tried again only to fail. They thought you were damaged goods, treated you as such and always smeared your name in the mud whenever you thought you had found someone to love you and be loved by you.

All that trauma was rearing its ugly head now, making doubt sink into the cracks of your relationship. No matter how hard he tried, Carmy couldn't ever take those words back once they've been said, and he had to understand that going forward, this would strain your relationship. Taking anger and frustration out on you was inappropriate, putting a bad taste in your mouth; making you wonder how the hell you'd ever move past this when his words circled your head like water draining from the sink.

Sometime around 9 am, you were curled up on the couch with your coffee and a book; Saturday dragging by slowly to allow you the reprieve of being off work. The bedroom door opened and you held your breath; sweat breaking out on your brow; heart stammering in your chest. When he came out, Carmy didn't look at you, which allowed you to watch him. He made a to-go cup of coffee, then shouldered his backpack before heading for the door.

"Carmy?" You asked softly in confusion, "I thought you were off today?"

"I am," he replied stiffly, "but I gotta run errands."

You didn't have time to respond before he was storming out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him. You blinked in shock, confusion plunging your heart to your feet as you realized he didn't ask you to join him, in fact, he didn't appear to want to tell you his plans until you had to ask directly when he was walking out the door. You felt terrible, more tears swelling in your eyes at the discord your boyfriend prolonged.

Something in your heart snapped and you stood from your seat. With anger coursing through your veins, you turned into a miniature tornado and quickly started gathering whatever you could get your hands on that belonged to you. You had enough, you felt hurt, yes, we established this, but then the disrespect started to overflow out of your heart to color your blood. Never linger where you're not wanted, you should never tear yourself down to that level. Never should have to second guess yourself, either - especially in a space where you're supposed to be safe.

You started to wonder: is it clingy if you made dinner and saved him a plate? Is it clingy if you did his laundry? What about cuddling? Is that clingy? Well, apparently! What else are you wrong about? If you texted him? Asked his opinion? What about if you held his hand - is that clingy, too? Probably!

Physical touch and quality time were your love languages, but after this reaction, you wondered if everything you'd do from now on would be judged? Would you be crucified for showing your love? For trying to participate in your relationship?

All day, you moved your stuff back to your apartment. All shoes, clothes, purses, make-up, haircare and skincare products - any and all period products, too. You left fucking nothing; going as far as to lay face-down the photo of your two on his bedside stand. You'd of taken it, too, but you felt sick at the thought so you left it for him. Sunday night, you didn't return to his apartment, and Carmy didn't call to say goodnight; both figuring the other was still pissed off. Your Monday was long and annoying, but once it was over, you had to admit, it was strange returning to an empty apartment, heat up leftovers, eat while watching some Netflix show, and then crashing into bed - moving mechanically.

Days passed uneventfully, albeit, a bit sluggishly. And then, Thursday arrived, and with it, the shit that would hit the fan.

You were enraptured in this book by Anne Tyler called "Dinner At The Homesick Restaurant," and couldn't stop reading it. You nursed a mug of tea, the outside darkening with an approaching thunderstorm that would talk to you in the silence and send bolts of lightning to illuminate the city. A shrill ringtone then played, making you jump slightly and glance at your phone only to see Carmy's contact name and photo.

You stare at your phone for a long moment, and then, after convincing yourself that ignoring him would only add fuel to the fire, answered quietly, "Hello?"

"Peach? Hey, uh... Are you, um, still at work?"

"No?"

"Where are you, then?"

"I'm home."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"I'm standing right here and you're not, baby, unless you got superpowers or something?" He chuckled nervously, hearing nothing on your end. "In fact, I, uh... I don't see any of your things. You move 'em?"

He'd never admit it, but your personal touch in his living space transformed it into a home; and now that they were all gone, he hated how cold, dreary, and grey the apartment felt.

"Carmy, I mean my home. You know? The apartment I still pay for?"

"Oh, well... Why're you there?"

"Why wouldn't I be? I had to bring my stuff back and leave it somewhere safe."

"It was safe here, Peach," he argued.

"Yeah, but it's your space and last thing I need is to be yelled at and insulted again for being clingy 'cause I left clothes at your apartment."

"Fuc'k's sake," You heard him hiss under his breath, bringing tears to your eyes. "You know I don't mind, I want you to leave shit here so it's easier on you to commute. Look, you know it's Thursday, right? Does our standing date night ring any bells?"

"Okay, but we haven't honored that in weeks? You know, 'cause you've been really busy."

"I thought we could get back into it tonight."

You sighed, turning the page in your book, "No, I don't think so, but thanks anyway."

He took a long pause, asking nervously, "What's wrong, Peach?"

"Nothing. Is there anything else, Carmen? I'm in the middle of shit."

"Oh, uh, n-no, I guess that's it. You comin' over tomorrow?"

"No. I told my brother I'd help him this weekend."

"But tomorrow's... Friday?"

"Yeah, that's how a calendar works. I have to travel to get to him," you scoffed.

"You didn't think to tell me?"

"Why would I?"

"You tell me everything! You don't think that's something I should know? That my girl's not even gonna be here this weekend?"

"Well, you're the one who said I was fucking clingy, remember!?" You finally snapped. "So, I'm giving you all that space you wanted!"

"Baby - "

"No, it's a great idea. We need space, Carmen; this isn't fair to either of us anymore," you spoke seriously, the line going quiet.

"What?"

"We need space from this relationship."

"I don't. I don't need space, Peach, baby, no, just listen, okay? I'm so sorry, I came home stressed out and I took it out on you. I'm sorry, I really am, this isn't what I want. Okay? I'm sorry. Just - come back home and we can - "

"No, you know what? I think I'm the one who needs this space," you snapped. "You said some pretty fucked up things, Carmen, that you can't ever take back, and now that I know, I can't un-know what you think about me. So, I need time to sort myself out."

"What're you saying? A-Are you breaking up with me?"

"Not yet, no."

"Baby, don't do this. C'mon, okay? I'm sorry, baby, I-I-I was wrong for what I said, I didn't - I didn't mean it! None of it, okay? Know I love you, baby, please, just come home, okay? I'm so sorry, I love that you wanna be close to me, I shouldn't've pushed you away. I'm sorry, okay? Please, baby, I'm so sorry. I need you, Peach, please. Just come home, we'll talk it through, I promise, no yelling - "

"I think you already said it all. Your words were 'clingy' and 'desperate'. Oh, and you also called me a 'bitch', so, I'd hate to be the bitch that makes your already stressful life all the harder."

"I didn't mean that - "

"I gotta go, Carmen, we'll talk later, okay? Goodnight."

He froze when he listened to those three distinct beeps that indicated you hung up on him. Confusion and hurt now seeped into the cracks of Carmy's heart; wondering when the hell he'd become so Goddamn self destructive to ruin the best thing he's ever had - you. The apartment might as well turned into ice with the way the light left, your departure suddenly haunting him.

When will these boys learn? The love of a good woman is rare, they'd only ever be so lucky as to think they deserve a woman like you. Nobody ever gets to guilt you for your love language(s) and then grovel for forgiveness. You deserve better, you deserve more; whether you could see that right now or not, you deserved to be loved in the best way for you. And sometimes, that means walking away from something you once thought was exactly what you wanted, but perhaps, never what you needed - call that God's Plan.

[ part two: ] Two to Tango

requesting rules and masterlist

The Bear masterlist

Clingy Baby collection masterlist

#carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto angst #the bear #the bear fx #fx the bear #the bear hulu #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto fanfiction

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thexsilentxwordsmith · 7 months

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A comprehensive list of all my fics in order from most recent to oldest with summary descriptions for each.

18+

Summary: Two personalities that clash, you and your lieutenant rarely get along, but when it comes to light that Lt. Riley has been messing with things behind the scenes of your life, what will happen when you confront him? Is it really hate that makes you stay in the argument the ensues...or is the tension a little too heavy to ignore?

Can't Let You Go

A Ride You'll Never Forget

Summary: Seeing Simon on his motorcycle is something that awakens a new yearning inside you, but when you get your own bike and start riding alongside him, the way he gets you hot and bothered makes it worse. You need him to fuck you on his bike and you hope your plan will make it happen.

A New Form of Pleasure

Summary: Simon is struggling, he can't get off and he doesn't know what to do. As his sergeant you are one of the closest to him and can see something is up. An impromptu visit late one night might just be what he needs... And the way you are suddenly making him bow to your authority and turning his brain off might actually make him come.

Breakfast in Bed

Summary: Only a few more days are left of his short leave and Simon is determined to make every last second count with you. What better way to start the day than buried in between your thighs, helping you wake up by the feeling of his tongue alone and then overstimming you.

Truth or Dare

Summary: During a game of Truth or Dare, your lieutenant is dared into giving you a kiss, but something about the way he has been acting lately may mean this is going to be more than a quick ordeal. And the way you have been feeling towards him won't be helping.

Truth or Dare 2: Dare To Tell the Truth

Summary: After a game of Truth or Dare leaves you and your lieutenant breathless and yearning for more, will you both be able to leave things alone or will one of you not be able to hold out? And what happens when you meet again?

Truth or Dare 3: How Truly Do You Need Me

Summary: After being so rudely interrupted in the middle of you and your lieutenant's tryst, but he made a promise. "This isn't over." You hope that he plans to keep it, but when? Things might have to wait as you are assigned to a mission with him. But when being close proves to much, will both of you be able to hold off on your lust or will you succumb to all that tension?

Truth or Dare 4: Dare to Take It Further

Summary: Something has changed; no, actually everything has changed as you and Simon forget the world a moment finally let that passion run its course. The thought was that once you both had each other it would make things calm, but now you're not so sure. Maybe he is willing to risk more and maybe you are too. Having to sneak around isn't so bad, right? Maybe it could all work out... At least you hope so. But things don't always go according to plan.

Truth or Dare 5: No More Games

Summary: Things are getting complicated, truths are being revealed, and a decisions are going to have to be made regarding the future. So much hangs in the balance and emotions are high as reality makes this about no more games.

A Special Dinner for Two

Summary: Such a good little wife you are to your military husband, ready to welcome him back home after he returns from deployment. This time you've even prepared a meal of all his favorites, but when Simon gets back early than expected and catches you flitting about the kitchen in nothing but his t-shirt, it isn't food that he wants.

I'll Crawl Home To Her

Summary: Simon is away on a mission and you are on his mind. Having to extend his stay, he is going to miss Valentine's day, but coming across a recent trend on TikTok, he may have a way to say just how much you mean to him.

Don't Touch What He's Claimed

Summary: A night out at your favorite local hangout is what he promised you after being away on deployment for so long, but one small incident throws him over the edge into full on possessive episode. Something about the way he is pulling off to the side of the road might mean he can't make it home before reclaiming his prize.

Simon Riley: Girl Dad Extraordinaire

Summary: From a request about Simon being more hands on with his 3 m.o. daughter.

You Are Beautiful

Summary: When a movie night has you questioning your bodies worth, Simon catches you in the shower to show you that your body is perfect just the way that it is.

Simon fingering you under the table during a night out at the bar with the Taskforce

Summary: With the drink flowing and the atmosphere right, Simon cannot seem to keep his hands off of you. There is a need, a need to touch and to play.

Let Me Talk You Through It

Summary: While on deployment far away, Simon takes a little time one night to video call you and talk you through you touching yourself to the sound of his voice.

Simon needing to hold you after a bad day

Summary: After a day where nothing goes right, Simon only wants to come home to the one person he trusts- you.

Cockwarming Simon as you two make out in his office

Summary: From a request for Simon getting so worked up during a cockwarming session that he ends up having to pull out because he is going to come.

Drunk on You

Summary: Simon comes home from deployment, hungry to have his pretty girl all to himself. Things get heated quick and before long you are both drunk off the feeling of the other.

Bringing in the New Year with Simon

Summary: Short one-shot about how it would be spending NYE with Simon at the stroke of midnight.

Simon waking up in the middle of the night horny and unable to get back to sleep. There's only one thing he wants to fix it.

Summary: A little sleepy cuddle-fucking to get Simon back to sleep.

Wanna Make You Mine

Summary: Simon is out at a stag party for Prices upcoming wedding when he comes how early with something important on his mind that he needs to see you to say. Is he just drunk or is it something more?

Simon making it clear that you are the only one he wants

Summary: An incident with a new recruit has you questioning things, but not to worry as Simon is here to show you that you are the only one he could ever want.

Simon is so worked up all day that he rushes home, telling you to meet him at the door because he cannot wait to have you

Summary: He has been needing you all day and as soon as he gets home he wants you waiting ready for him so that he can fix that ache that has been driving him insane.

I'll Take You Filthy

Summary: Being the leader of your platoon and fucking you at the same time isn't something Simon wants paraded around, for both of your benefit as trouble could come from such a relationship. But keeping it a secret has become a problem as you've been out on a mission for a couple months with no physical contact to be had. The moment you return Simon has to have you...even though you are both filthy as fuck.

His Heart, His Light, His World- Dad!Simon

Summary: The birth of his first child changes everything for the rough around the edges military man. A small glimpse into his life now as a father.

A Bit of Fun At the World's End

Summary: Being on the run from the undead doesn't leave much time for more intimate things, but once things start to settle a little an ache begins to form that you haven't felt in a long time. What will you do when the only other person you are with is your former lover turned zombie.

Joining the 141 had one hard rule: no relationships of any kind between members, but that is something proving to be too much the closer you and Simon get

Summary: Simon cannot help but break the rules when it comes to you.

Body worship with Simon

Summary: Simon taking the time to make sure you feel like the goddess he thinks you are.

Simon desperately eating you out after a rough day

Summary: It has been a terrible, no good, rotten ass day. There is only one cure for it and that is for that hulking military man to find his way between your legs to eat you out until he can't breathe.

Getting so worked up during a celebration for Price's birthday that Simon has to take you in the bathroom of the bar

Summary: You just couldn't wait until you both got back, could you? No, not when you and Simon are screwing like bunnies every chance you get. So what's Simon to do? That's easy, take you in the bathroom and fix the problem of course.

Think of Me When You Cum Later (Part 1)

Summary: Simon is missing you like crazy while being away on a mission, but he has a clever plan to make sure you miss him too. So, perhaps a little video of him stroking himself will do the trick.

Something to Make it Worse (Part 2)

Summary: You get Simon's video and it leaves you wanting him something bad. Well, two can play at this game, so why not send him back a video of your own?

Something to Break the Tension (Part 3)

Summary: All the buildup, all the teasing, finally leads to this: Simon is back and ready to act on all those filthy things you two had been teasing each other with. Will you make it home before you both explode? Or will the car have to do to break the tension?

Late Night Texts (Part 1)

Summary: Nothing good ever comes from a text after dark... or does it? Guess it depends on who it is and what they need. If it's a certain Lieutenant, then it's bound to be something worth your while.

Mid-day Texts (Part 2)

Summary: Simon is getting more and more obsessed with his little friend who constantly finds herself in his bed. But when you are off on a quick mission for a few weeks, Simon begins to grow restless and this no strings attached messing around finds itself being turned on its head. What happens when you get a text from him the day you get back, in the middle of the day?

Life Changing Texts (Part 3)

Summary: After your explosive homecoming where everything seemed to fall right into place, Simon begins to get cold feet about his feelings and what they could mean for the both of you. All seems bleak until a text about someone harassing you while you're on a night out makes him come to your aid and solidifies a decision he has already made.

Spending the night at Simon's for the first time and him waking up to you in nothing but his oversized shirt

Summary: From a request about Simon seeing reader in his shirt for the first time.

Simon and you screwing in the shower

Summary: What's better than sex with Simon? Add some steam, some hot water, and some solitude and you have the recipe for a very good time.

Having Simon pick out lingerie for you

Summary: Coming up with the idea to take Simon out so that he can pick out a couple pieces of lingerie he wants to see you in, his choices really surprise you.

Simon has a favorite item of clothing you wear and you wear it since he's having a bad day

Summary: Simon has one favorite piece of clothing you wear and of course when he's having a rough day, you just have to wear it for him.

Simon fucking you brainless and then rubbing your head as you pass out beside him

Summary: Simon is not shy when it comes to sex, it's the more intimate things that he has a problem with. But after a round of rigorous screwing, he wants to show you a bit of extra care.

Desperate Times Call for Filthy Fantasies (Part 1)

Summary: As a new recruit, you should not have the gall to talk back to your superior officer like you do. He's tried it all, trying to work the insubordination out of you, but to no avail. Your antics have really gotten under his skin lately, but is it really because you won't listen and follow orders...or is there something more to it that he can't admit? The way his cock throbs might indicate the latter and what he thinks about as he touches himself might just speak to that as well.

The Brat and Her Beast (Part 2)

Summary: After a certain Lieutenant allowed his fantasies to run wild, there was only one thing left to do: make them a reality. Opportunity presents itself one day as your brattiness has reached new highs and he follows you into the communal bathroom and locks the door behind you both. You're all alone and now what? Seems you've bitten off more than you can chew, but you both know now that was your plan all along.

Silence on the Line

Summary: You and Ghost have always gotten through missions by keeping in constant radio contact when possible. On one fateful mission, he sends out the call but there is no reply. Only silence. As time goes on his greatest fear is realized and all that he knew is now turned on it's head. What happens when reality hits all at once? And what does it do to the once stoic man who is no stranger to death?

The Lieutenant's Whore (Part 1)

Summary: When a one time sexual encounter leaves you wanting more, but the rules were set the moment he entered you and now he does his best to avoid you, what is a girl to do to get what she wants? That's right, make him jealous. And if it works a little too well maybe he will give you the night of your life. Good thing you have a flirty Scotsman to mess with, perhaps if you can't get your way, you can still have fun. Only time and a bit of effort on your part will tell what goes down.

What's Mine You'll Never Have (Part 2)

Summary: Hearing what he shouldn't have, Johnny is rightfully angry and what does he let that anger lead to? A bad attitude that leads to even worse decisions. As you confront him about this sudden change in demeanor, things start to heat up. What happens when Simon finds out? Actions have consequences and Johnny is about to learn that you will only ever belong to the man behind the mask.

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radiant-reid · 1 year

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any fic recommendations ?? love ur blog ❤️

after the events of yesterday, i'd love the chance to spread some CM love. i tried to do fics rather than masterlists but most of these writers have their masterlist linked or in their bio. i'm missing a hundred people so send me a message if there's fics you want me to add PLEASE READ EACH WRITER'S WARNINGS/RULES. *denotes smut fics

spencer reid

Milburn Seven Months by @aperrywilliams

Here + Velvet by @wtfevenismypage

all signs point to yes the break-up box two’s a crowd, three’s a party *by @wheelsup

what happens in California* by @spencersawkward

Stumbling Home…Alone ….to end up with you (all well that ends well happy ending version) Secret Life by @reidsbookclub

Babies and New Beginnings In The Middle Of The Night * by @samuel-de-champagne-problems

Mirror* by @sinfulspencer

THE BOY’S A SLAG* GODPARENTS* + GODPARENTS II by @eideticmemory

Oh Baby! by @fortheloveofwonderland

Not Your Backup by @imagining-in-the-margins

Clean + Clean, PT. 2 by @ofwilliamandwalter

spencer reid sfw alphabet by @candlesandsoftrain

Is a Home still a Home? * Only her * by @little-diable

A Real Father's Love Drunk on You Room 405 by @smurphyse

I Would Never Fall + Unless It’s You I Fall Into by @reidscanehand

“i want to love someone and be loved” / part 2 how to ask a girl out by @spacedikut

eros & thanatos by @reidamancy

Through the Smoke by @homoose

Goodbye Forever, Until Next Time by @mercy-burning

night shift by @behindyourbarrette

loving you was red collection by @writer-in-theory

36 Questions to Fall in Love by @boldlyvoid

flick, flick, burn this vast empty space, picture perfect by @literaila

aaron 'hotch' hotchner

Fluffy Feb event masterlist by @hotchs-bitch masterlist by @doctorstethoscope masterlist by @honeybrowne

Yes, Mr President * Wonderstruck by @doctorstethoscope

In the Suburbs * by @hoe4hotchner

Ivy * enemies to lovers blurb by @greg-montgomery

On the Road Again * The Stranger Next Door * Wish You Were Here + Back to You Meet The Hotchners by @ssahotchswife

Come Back Home by @hotched

As Long as You Want Me by @spacecowboyhotch

"Agent" by @kryptonitejelly

Wasteland, Baby by @heliotropehotch

Big Dick Energy * by @maybege

Good For Him Reckless (21.7k words, go read rn) by @ptersparkers

Never Do That Again * by @fatecantstopme

delicate by @bbq-chipz

hard-headed painfully professional another man's jeans * by @honeypiehotchner

When one door closes, try to take the girl home by @azenpal

like real people do + i'll crawl home to you (you'll cry your eyes out, be warned) by @ssahotchhner

New Mom by @marvelslut16

My Love I Can't Hide + I Wanna Hold Your Hand by @reidscanehead

Rossi's Neighbour by @capturedminds

The 30th * Truth or Dare * by @little-diable

Surprise Visit * by @wheelsupkels

I Love You More* by @ssamorganhotchner

Perfect for Me Marry Me? Baby Drunk by @hotch-stufff

Aaron, I’m Pregnant by @ssahotchsbitch

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner smut

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pedgito · 5 months

Text

𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 & 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 | a joel miller x reader oneshot

summary: this is based around work song by hozier, felt a deep need to write some joel miller comfort stuff. listen to the song if you fancy, it really helps, i swear. this is just a lot of angst, fluff, and longing wrapped into a 5k fic i wrote out a couple weeks ago out of missing writing and joel miller.

word count & warnings: 5k | 18+, fem!reader, mentions of violence/blood/fighting (nothing graphic), joel being in a state of shock, sex for comfort/coping, no heavy sex warning it's just v intimate, psuedo love confessions bc joel is bad with words

It’s like an atom bomb uprooting your world with the heavy rasps of a hand against solid wood, sending a sharp buzz of electricity down your spine as you shoot up from your position on the couch, nearly tripping over Ellie on the way. The remnants of a night spent like a teen, enjoying a sleepover with the young girl who had a lot to talk about. You knew enough about Savage Starlight that you were practically an aficionado now, but that didn’t matter.

Ellie only stirs slightly, turning on her side on the cushion of her make-shift pallet and you open the front door slowly despite your rapidly beating heart.

Joel never knocked, never really announced himself. He would come in quiet, quick, and busy himself upstairs. You knew that because he usually found you in his bed, waiting for him.

Tonight was a little different.

No grave can hold my body down,

I'll crawl home to her

You world spins as you see what’s on the other side, a soft gasp leaving your lips as you see him.

Joel. But he wasn’t alone.

“Maria—“ It’s laced with too many emotions, too many meanings. You shift your gaze between the two.

“Everyone—“ Maria has to force herself to take a deep breath, a careful hand on Joel’s arm as she forces him to take a step forward, “everyone is fine.”

“Maria, he’s covered in blood.” As if that wasn’t obvious.

It was crusted and oxidized down, sticking to his skin and covering him like something out of a horror movie. He wasn’t shaking, that was the first thing you noticed. Joel was unnaturally still. Frozen.

“Do you have him?” Maria asks, only expecting one answer. “I’ve gotta tend to Tommy and he’s not telling me a damn thing.”

“Is he hurt?” Your brow furrowed in concern, but Maria doesn’t elaborate at all. You reach for Joel silently, his skin icey to the touch, the rigid, cold weather partially to blame.

“He’ll be alright.” Maria assures you with a nod and she’s gone without another word, leaving you to stare at the shell of a man before you, his eyes boring into the ground, staring at the scuffed up material of his boots, not a word to be spoken. Not even so much as a breath.

“Is he in shock?” Ellie’s less than chipper voice speaks from behind you, forcing your heart to kickstart again.

“Um, I don’t—know…” You pull him inside gently, which he doesn’t fight, but he feels lifeless, “has he—have you seen him like this before?”

“Never.” Her eyes well with silent tears and you quickly shoo her away. Ellie almost seems thankful. Joel can’t admit it to himself but Ellie knows.

You care.

“Go upstairs and get some sleep, Ellie.” You assure her, “I can handle it.”

The walk to Joel’s bedroom feels miles away. Joel shows no signs of life still, as you drag him inside of his room and shut the door with a soft click.

“You need to shower.”

Joel knows this, he can smell it on him.

The smell of death.

You smell it too, but you can’t bring yourself to admit it.

“Joel,” You speak softly, invading his line of sight, a gentle touch against rough skin, his scruff a few days grown and there’s a small twitch as your warm hand makes contact, “are you here?”

His nod is a sigh of relief, a weight off your chest.

“Okay—okay, that’s good,” You keep your voice low, like a secret between the both of you, “do you need my help?”

Joel shakes his head weakly, pulling at the buttons of his thick coat, realizing slowly that it was just as bloodied as the rest of him. He wants it off. All of it. Now.

“Are you going to fight me if I try to help?” It’s lighthearted, but you can see how deeply it digs at Joel, like a fresh wound. “Sorry—I just, I want to help. Okay?”

He doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t push your hands away when they reach forward and take the coat from his hands. You toss it in a nearby corner, out of sight and out of mind.

You could handle it later, get rid of the mess so Joel wouldn’t have to bother with it.

He toes off his boots after tugging at the laces, delicate fingertips tracing down his chest as you unbutton his flannel, forcing it down his shoulders. It takes a moment, but eventually he’s down to his boxers and tattered white undershirt, barefoot on the hardwood floor.

And he stops, leaning into you, pressing his forehead against your own in a silent bid of thankfulness, a heavy sigh escaping his chest.

Joel showers alone, eerily quiet. You get rid of the clothes, bringing them out to the garage to deal with in the morning.

Joel is already in the bed by the time you make it back to his bedroom, but if he was actually asleep was yet to be discovered, the nightmare replaying behind his eyelids unbeknownst to you.

I was three days on a drunken sin

I woke with her walls around me

Joel wasn’t supposed to come back until later in the evening that day, well after work was wrapped up for the day and everyone was already tucked into bed. You found yourself in Joel’s bed most nights now, off and on for the first few months but now, almost a year into…whatever this was, it was a weekly thing, as often as Joel wasn’t out on patrol.

There was never an agreement about what this was either, not that there needed to be. But, the unspoken rule was to keep your problems away–the anger, the fear, the suppressed feelings you both have tried to keep at bay for weeks now. Joel only mildly complains about things around Jackson, but never about his life before, how he feels now, or how his pseudo-daughter seeks out comfort in your presence when Joel isn’t around.

Joel hasn’t stirred for hours, or so it feels. The night sky fades away into early morning, the tiniest amount of dawn peeking through his window and bathing him in a shadow of blue. The crinkle of sheets pulls your attention toward his face, your body heats like a furnace as it slid near, hoping that even in his slumber he might draw closer. There’s a brief moment where you think he might wake, but he doesn’t. Instead, he pulls you closer. Nuzzles.

You’ll take it.

He moves silently, letting you hold him. An arm slipped under his head, a leg slipped between his own thighs and his hands found their way around your middle and you sigh, a deep breath through your nose that does nothing to calm your worrying, aching heart.

If he wanted to talk about it, he would. That’s all you can hope for.

I didn't care much how long I lived

But I swear I thought I dreamed her

Joel is edging on delirious. The adrenaline was beginning to wane and he kept seeing things in faint recollection. The faces of the couple that had snuck into the cabin he and Tommy were patrolling last night, the fear on his brother’s face–something he hasn’t seen from Tommy since they were teenagers. They’re battle-hardened warriors, attack first and ask questions later. His brother was helpless then and if it weren’t for Joel’s terrible bout of insomnia—he couldn’t think about it.

He feels everything finally caught up to him, the physical exertion, the mental toll, he’s never slept so easily in his life and he feels terrible about it. He feels terrible about bringing this on you, forcing you to help piece him back together and keep him from falling apart.

Joel is a man, solid and steel-like in his ways but he’s not invulnerable to emotion. He feels it creeping in as he blinks his tired eyes open, the flutter in his chest growing strong when he feels you wrapped around him and his own limbs just the same.

He could’ve swore you left. The look on your face, of pure terror and disgust as he poured his heart out to you, but Joel quickly realizes that was only a dream, something his mind cooked up in the haze of hysteria.

“Is Tommy hurt?” You ask with a timidness he’s not used to, your fingers massaging at the base of his neck, twirling a curl of his hair around your finger idly, “Maria...didn’t say, she looked exhausted.”

We don’t talk about these things.

We don’t talk.

We don’t.

“I’m not asking you to tell me what happened,” You assure him like he’d spoked aloud, “Just…even a nod, Joel. Anything.”

Joel waits too long, to the point where you think he’s fallen back asleep. But eventually, he shakes his head. You relax briefly. No, he wasn’t hurt.

But, that doesn’t explain the blood.

As much as you wanted to know, it wasn’t your place to ask.

She never asked me once

about the wrong I did

Joel doesn’t understand why he feels drawn to you, so eager to have you here, home. You had your own place, your own things, but when you were here it almost felt normal. Real. He’s dragged this out for months, avoiding the looks you give him when things get a little too intense and he pulls away.

Ellie calls him an idiot every month that passes, knowing how good it is to have you around.

“Jesus, Joel—you can’t really be that oblivious.”

Joel forces Ellie to drop it.

But, not before she mumbles the word under her breath.

There’s a soft sob that racks your body as Joel stirs, crying silently above him with worry. You weren’t as great at burying those emotions as him, unfortunately.

Because, for tonight, well—it was almost too much to process.

“I took care of it,” Joel speaks through his gruff, sleep-filled voice, “Tommy’s fine.”

It? Took care of it? Come on, Joel.

“It was a couple. Hunters. They were from the west.”

You stay silently, scared that speaking might startle him too. You didn’t want to steal the chance of knowing, understanding.

“I handled it.” The emphasis around the word is enough to make you understand.

He killed them. There was no way around that.

“I’ve never…” The quiver in Joel’s voice is apparent, no matter how hard he tries to mask it, “I’ve felt a lot of things. Anger, betrayal, but that fear—”

You squeeze your eyes shut, pulling Joel closer into the space you shared.

“They had their hands around him,” Joel explains slowly, like he’s trying and failing to relive that sight in his mind, “my damn hearing, old fucking age—another minute and things would’ve been a hell of a lot different.”

“But, you took care of it.” You affirmed him and his hands tightened against your skin. “Seem pretty damn capable to me.”

“Fuckin’ cowards.” Joel spits out, “We were sleepin’ and they tried to get the jump on us.”

“It’s alright, though—Tommy’s okay, you’re…okay,” You hesitate, a quiver of a breath from Joel ghosts over your chest, his tired eyes peering into yours, “You’re okay, right?”

“Always am,” Joel assures you with a low, soft response, “had so much on mind, though, ya’ know?”

“Well, yeah—”

Joel shakes his head, cuts you off for a brief moment. You don’t really mind, talking felt too draining right now.

“Ellie’s still learnin’, she can’t even go out on patrol by herself. Tommy and Maria have the baby now.” Joel’s fingers squeeze again, a nervous tic he’s picked up when he’s got himself wrapped around you, the urge to say things he wishes he could but can’t. You’re begging for it now, wondering if this was the moment. “I couldn’t live with myself if things went the other way.”

My babe would never fret none

About what my hands and my body done

Joel was a killer. Is. But, with good intentions. Not that it was needed anymore.

Survival, family, protection. He’s killed for the wrong reasons and the good ones, but it’s never been something you’ve judged him on. You never even questioned it. You accepted it, moved on, and treated him like everyone else. But, of course, there was a tinge of sweetness that creeped in, got him all caught and wound up in your web.

“Did she give you any trouble last night?” It’s a quick turn from the heavy conversation you were having, but it isn’t lost on you. He’s silently asking things to shift to something else.

“No more than the usual,” You shrug, talking softly in the early morning ambience, wind howling outside his bedroom window, a storm brewing on the horizon, “I don’t think it’s me that you should be worried about her giving trouble anyways.”

He would be stuck here in Jackson for a few days. You’ve never been more thankful for shitty weather in a goddamn apocalypse.

“That kid loves you.” Joel comments fondly, and I do too.

“Only because I help her and Dina sneak out during town movie nights,” You admit, glancing away sheepishly, “she really worries about you.”

Joel nods knowingly, his usual scowl returning to his face. You reach forward, rubbing your thumb along his cheekbone—in this light he looks fine, untouched and perfect, but he winced at the contact. He’s a tough man, but he’s not invincible.

The touch of his fingers as they wrap around your palm are instinctive, he’s careful that he doesn’t startle you by the quick action, but it’s almost like he’s being shocked and brought back to hours before, the one hit they managed to land on him.

You’ve seen a few of Joel’s violent outbursts, yelling matches upon yelling matches with Tommy but it’s never been directed at you. You retract slightly, fingers curling over the top of his own.

“I’m sorry,” You apologize, “I didn’t realize—“

“I would never hurt you.” Joel says adamantly, but you can’t help but feel puzzled. “I’m not a monster.”

That idea never crossed your mind.

“Defending yourself doesn’t make you a monster, Joel.”

Joel doesn’t know why he feels the need for validation.

“Maria—she thought I,” Joel laughs sadly, a huff of air that borders on defeat, “Tommy was hitchin’ the horses up and she saw me first, without him and she thought I left him behind. That I sacrificed my own damn brother to save my ass.”

Maria had never been fond of Joel, that much was always apparent, even from the moment you met. She tolerated him because he was Tommy’s brother but that was all. There was no way around it.

“I’ve done plenty of shit to cement my place in hell somewhere, and so has Maria,” You tell him, “Doesn’t matter what she thinks, Tommy knows you would never do that.”

Joel squeezes your waist tighter, the soft skin molding under his calloused fingertips, “You’re too damn good to me.”

The kissing starts slowly, a soft caress as Joel moves in closer, and doesn’t even try—he waits for you, teasing you with a touch until you can’t fight anymore and you press your lips against his gently. It’s the first time in the last several hours that Joel doesn’t feel like he’s drowning, barely skimming the surface to keep himself afloat.

He feels horrible, using you like this—coping with things by stowing them away and surrounding himself with you in a hope that you wouldn’t ask anymore questions, that he would have to explain his actions or justify them. But, you taste too damn sweet under his tongue and he prods until you let him in, a small sigh leaving your mouth as your lips part.

“Fuck, darlin’.” He swears like a symphony, sounding more devious than it should as it leaves his lips, “Can’t keep at this, not with Ellie upstairs.”

“Joel, she’s not here.” It’s not so obvious to Joel, who’s just about as oblivious to every teen antic thrown his way. “She’s out with Dina, probably. That’s usually where she goes when she’s upset.”

Joel’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“I heard her moving around when you were asleep,” You explain quietly, jostling your head slightly on the pillow until Joel’s situated over you slightly, his head resting in the palm of his hand that held him upright, “it’ll do you some good to talk to her in the morning.”

Joel nods knowingly, half-smiling as he pushes your hair behind your ear, his thumb finding the sensitive dip behind your lobe and rubbing until you couldn’t hold your laughter in, letting it bubble out weakly before falling silent, a soft, but serious look growing across your features.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” You tell him, “please.”

“C’mere,” Joel nudges his chin upwards, drawing you in close, “I’m not goin’ down without a fight, darlin’.”

“I’m serious,” You don’t need to force a love confession on him, not that it would salvage anything or make things better, because Joel already understands—there’s too many instances where he’s felt his heart tug in all the weird, uncomfortable places he’s kept locked away since he was younger, before the outbreak, before Sarah, “you can’t do that anymore.”

“I’m here,” Joel assures you, forehead pressed firm against your own as he nods, “I’m right here.”

He failed to mention how after the attack, the split second of everything flashing through his memory, the possibility of losing Tommy, disappointing Ellie, that you were the one thing that kept him conscious enough to come home.

He’d left you with a burning kiss the day he left, kissing like two lovebirds trying to keep a secret as you hung around the stables as the pairs readied to leave.

It was his own little promise of a return, but you didn’t realize in just what shape. He was good at masking, even now. Joel was hurting, but all he wanted was you.

And you could give him that.

And she put her love down soft and sweet

In the low lamplight I was free

Joel hums, soft and quiet, “Don’t move,” He pleads, “need you right here.”

His palms are heavy, feeling so much larger than they should as they span the length of your body, pulling you in close and cradling you like a safety blanket. Maybe you should stop, it isn’t the best route to cope with the situation, but Joel is there—wanting and needing and he’s mouthing at the junction of your neck in a way that has you gasping for air.

He needs you to occupy his mind, it’s what you did best for him. Joel needed somewhere else to be, anywhere but the hellscape behind his eyes when sleep succumbed to his pure exhaustion.

Just a moment. Just a moment to breathe. To feel.

Your brow furrows so deep that you're scowling now, but mostly out of concern, forehead scrunching from the emotion and you cradle Joel’s face carefully between your hands, “Tell me what you need.”

You.

He doesn’t say as much, but you can feel him sifting for your tattered pajama pants as he digs his fingertips under the waistband and yanks, hoping you’ll get the idea.

Okay, this is fine. He needs sex, you can provide him that. But, you won’t let him escape. Joel needed to be present and here with you, not forcing himself to some far off space in his mind and keeping you around him like nothing more than a warm body for him to fuck.

He’s got you all pliant under his touch as he needs at soft skin, thumb digging into your hip bone as he shifts between your legs lazily, spreading you wide and using the arm that is holding most of his weight to unfurl his hand and reach for that tight space behind your knee, tucking that leg up and over his right hip—this feels undoubtedly vulnerable, but he’s staring at you with those eyes and you absolutely fucking melt, his mouth parted by mere centimeters as his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip.

“Go on, darlin’,” Joel encourages, “I know you need it too.”

That was an understatement.

He’s already hard, head of his cock resting against the small expanse of skin between his groin and belly button. It’s like a wave of heat that rushes over your bodies when you finally touch him how he’s been begging—not so much with words but pleading looks. He needs it even more than you do.

Usually you would spend a while in the throes of leisurely foreplay, letting Joel devour you until you were nothing but a heap of numbness on the bed and only then would he allow you what you were begging for the entire time. His cock, buried deep enough inside you that it felt impossible. But, there was none of that.

Your thumb slides over the head, smearing the precum in a too teasing motion that has Joel cursing under his breath before you’re abruptly guiding him to your core, slick and waiting without a single touch, embarrassingly so. Fortunately, you and Joel were long over that. Joel was overly aware of the effect he had on you—mind, body, and soul.

He slides home and you have to take a moment, a second to breath, chest expanding with a full breadth of air as Joel pulls you in closer, if that was even possible, warm hands settling firm on your hips, his head resting against the pillow you both shared, “There she is,” Joel comments vexingly, “always know what you need, right, baby?”

As good as it feels to hear him, the way he can melt you with a single phrase or sound, he’s still on guard in the way he’s shielding himself against your body, rocking his hips in a motion that drowns out all relative thinking and it builds, builds until you can’t take it and you feel like you just might burst. You slip a hand out from under him to pull at the chain on his bedside lamp, drowning you in a soft yellow glow and Joel doesn’t look right away—that’s how you know.

“Switch me,” You suggest softly, followed by an even lower, disgruntled noise from Joel, “—Joel, come on.”

Joel feels that distant ache in his bones, the soreness in his hands from the damage they caused, he groans with the movement, but even louder with the way you sink back down onto him once he’s settled against the mattress, hands fisted into his shirt and rumpling it up his stomach, revealing a few inches of soft skin, grinding down against him until he’s nearly writhing. His mouth opens slightly, ready to say something you didn’t want to hear.

You offer a soft shhh, eyes focused on the lines of his face, beautiful with age and scrunched up in pleasure, eyes closed as he settles into the feeling of you again, “Stay with me,” You jeer quietly, a soft giggle settling on the surface as you smile, ever so slightly, ”‘can you do that?”

Sometimes it feels like an impossible feat, but Joel grips you a little tighter, pulls you in ever the more closer and the slick of your body feels so goddamn good, he doesn’t even realize his thought breached his lips before your breath is hot against his ear, his mind battling the thoughts buried under the surface and every filthy thing he could blurt out in the moment, he’s so tense with anticipation, “Stop thinking so hard, Joel. You’re home. Safe.”

And for once, he gives in. A long, hard fought battle that succumbs to his own exhaustion, allowing the kinder touches, the intimate glances between two people, almost like your fingertips were grazing each other’s souls. It’s felt intense before, but this moment is sharp around the edges and Joel knows what you need to hear. He’s fought it for a while, trying to right his wrongs, remind himself still, that he didn’t deserve you. He’s done fighting.

“Just need you, darlin’.” He admits gruffly, lips sliding against each other in a messy, lazy attempt at a kiss, “Always know just what to do.”

In other words, you could read Joel like a book.

And in the few years you’ve known him, you were hoping that was the case, considering the level of intimacy you’ve reached. Joel comes with a tired, drawn out groan that pierces you deep, and you’re right there—right there, before Joel is flipping you over with little fight on your end, sucking on your clit with a ferocity that doesn’t let up, coming with a shout as you grip his hair at the root, riding out the extent of your climax against his mouth as he eased you into your sated state of exhaustion.

The comedown is heavy, long, extended bouts of silence as you two try to catch your breath, slow your pounding hearts and Joel, at some point, finds his way higher up your body, his head laying against your chest, just underneath your breasts and it's an easy position to rub your fingers into his hair, along the planes of his face. He'd never admit it, but this is his favorite part. The after.

For you, it was everything.

"I want you around more often," Joel says quietly, like a whisper, "—m'tired of worrying about you when you're not around."

It almost makes you think you slipped into some sort of fugue state, not believing that the Joel Miller had said anything remotely close to a confession. But, then again, he surprised you every day. And you knew he couldn't ask you outright, not now, maybe not ever.

But, you'd settle for this.

"I'm not going anywhere, Joel." You promise, "You've always got me to come home too."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #tlou fanfiction #my writing #posting this and hiding for another six months #pedrostories

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nkogneatho · 5 months

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𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄

°🖇᭡ 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐌𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

—cw: fem!reader, mention of childhood trauma, female masturbation, fingering, cum slurping, clit slapping, edging, nicknames (princess), reader cries from the edging.

—a/n: i was supposed to post this two days ago but tumblr took away my access. but no one can stop me and i am back so i hope you enjoy. HAPPY BIRTHDAY BOYFIE. please stay tuned for other fics in the mlist.

In a city like Tokyo, the setting sun arrives with a bustling crowd of people filling the streets. Some for food. Some for a stroll. Many traveling back home from their office. Although you will always catch drunkards putting up a fight, something that happens almost everyday. The whole place swamped, and the noise is almost suffocating.

You disliked the evenings. Someone who grew up between constant quarrels, the yelling triggered the worst fears in you. This is why your husband bought a penthouse in the most peaceful place of Tokyo. On the outskirts of the city, where evenings brought silence. Only gusts of summer wind and the night, crickets and cicadas chirping. But this evening, the cicadas could be barely heard, overpowered by your whimpers.

"Toru," you cried. Your limbs were splayed out on the bed with the white haired man watching. Amusement masked his face.

"C'mon, princess. i know you can do it." His voice is deep yet so sweet. He usually talks in a higher pitch with others, a part of his personality perhaps that comes with his sarcastic attitude. But with you? It's much more gentle. Much lower until it pulls you down with itself. Until you forget that there's anyone else in this world.

"Toru, please. ah! c-can't reach. hel—help me." your managed to speak between hiccups. Although, it didn't seem like your husband was done playing with you. Your fingers pumping your hole, but couldn't reach where you wanted them to.

The mattress dipped a little when he settled on the edge of the bed. He watched your cunt getting played from a better angle now. It was so embarrassing to have him gaze at the most sacred part of you like he's a lustful notorious god and you were the source of his usual entertainment. Like you were the human he eanted to toy with to give humanity another lesson. The long fingers you were whimpering about drew rivers as they crawled up from your feet to your inner thighs, pussy still crying for his touch.

"I'll help you a little since you're cries are so beautiful, sweetheart."

He seized the white lace hanging low from your vanity, and started brushing it against your skin. You squirmed in the anticipation. The lace was soon held at each end by his fingers and placed on top of your wet slick. He started pulling them alternatively to create friction. The satin touch on your clit made it throb and you whined, grinding against the soft, silky fabric. Soon, he didn't even have to move the lace, you were helping yourself.

"mhm...mhmm fuck...need more, toru," you moaned. Satoru took the lace of your clit, depriving you of the sweet release.

"Look at this, princess. You're so wet, your juices dripped down from the ribbon to my hand." You glanced and it was true. The white satin was damp grey now with trails of wetness on his fingers.

Satoru discarded the lace and sat in front of your pussy. He unbuckled his belt but didn't pull his pants down. Guess we was just getting comfortable for what he was about to do. He bent until he could clearly see your hole pushing out your juices, almost like it was crying.

"Look at her crying for attention, princess. She's so much like you." You faced away from him. You were not sure how to look him in the eye after what he just said. He chuckled because he found you cute.

Satoru turned your face back to him and you watched as he suckled on his finger, pulling them out and spitting on it. His another hand moved away from your cheeks and focused on your pussy as it parted the lips. Toru blew cold air that kissed your wetness, teasing you. He pushed his saliva wet digits in you and you finally moaned in satisfaction.

"ah! fuck—finally."

Because he knew he reached parts of you, you never can. He fingers you open like a tangerine. The bed of his fingertips rubbing the thousand nerves in you, just like the tiny vesicles of the fruit. His long fingers stroke your velvety walls like bruising the skin of a tangerine. He pushes it in and out until you're completely juiced. Until the bed is citrus, and his fingers sweet. Until the fruit is nothing but empty pulp because he was thirsty.

You yelped and cried when he finally gave you the pleasure of cumming down his fingers. Your body jerked because he doesn't pull out. He slapped your clit for more and you couldn't believe for the first time another orgasm plagued you when the previous wasn't even finished.

"fu—aghh! fuck. please...holy shit! nghm," you sobbed.

"Didn't know you could do that, princess." He kissed your forehead before going down. He slurped all your cum, yet you were still very much wet. "Let's try that again, but this time do that on my tongue, pretty. You will, right?"

Yes you did.

You were just like a tangerine. Juicy and sweet. And he was a thirsty man.

tagging: @elusivemoon @sachiyoh @get0sfav @greycaelum @dianagracesworld @ammcg0119 @fleur-bbyy @jexx233 @katsuslover @chiyoso @driaswrld @a1sh1teruu @rizzmin @sugumimi @happymangospot @tenshi-cho @yourlocalmoon-lover @nothingfuninthislife @charbunxxi @idkks4m @02yunominami

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru smut #jjk smut #gojo x you #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jjk drabbles #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x fem!reader #gojo x fem!reader

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thetriumphantpanda · 6 months

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I'll Crawl Home To Her | Marcus Pike

Fic Summary | Marcus Pike had been the man of your dreams until a promotion tore your away from him. Four years later, a wedding brings you back together, but it the bubble you've built over this one weekend going to crash and burn just like it did before?

Pairing | Marcus Pike x Bridesmaid F!Reader

Fic Warnings | Explicit. Exes to Lovers, themes of second chance love, references to food and alcohol, descriptions of a wedding, Marcus Pike being a dirty talking menace, talk of contraception, unprotected PiV sex, creampie, semi-public sex, oral sex (F), overstimulation if you squint, allusions to oral sex (M) and mentions of a facial cumshot, mutual pining, flirting, two idiots in love, a touch of angst, basically two idiots who never got over each other have a lot of sex over a weekend.

Word Count | 7.9K (I can only apologise lmfao)

Authors Note | So, two weekends ago I was a bridesmaid and spent the entire time messaging @undercoverpena about how I wished Marcus Pike would whisk me away to the bathroom, tell me how pretty I was and give me a good time.... and this is what's come of this. Entirely self-indulgent but we love that for me sometimes. If you enjoy this, please consider commenting or reblogging - I'd love to know what you think of it! And if you'd like to support me further, you can donate to my Ko-Fi.

Moodboard is for aesthetic purposes only - reader is a blank slate. Although if you're interested in the dress I chose for her - it's this.

Divider by the amazing @saradika

Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs for writing updates.

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi.

“I’m sorry, Mike,” Marcus is still out of breath as he clutches the champagne flute in his hand, chest heaving as his sucks in air to his lungs, “I didn’t mean to be so late.”

“Marcus, buddy, it’s fine,” His friend puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder, he knows Marcus gets anxious when things outside of his control happen, like the delay to his flight from D.C. to London, and then the delay in getting from London to the wedding venue, “You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

Marcus nods, chugging down half the champagne in one go, hoping it’ll calm his anxiety a little. He had cursed Mike and Cassie for choosing to have their wedding in England, but Mike’s family, most of them ageing now and unable to make the long trip to D.C. had insisted on it. As he looks around the large reception room, he muses internally to himself that it was beautiful. A huge room, semi-decorated for tomorrow’s reception and dinner. It’s a smaller affair tonight, immediate family and friends for the rehearsal dinner, but he can imagine that tomorrow, once all is said and done, it’ll be the perfect backdrop for their wedding.

“Where’s Cassie?” Marcus asks, looking around the room, finding a distinct lack of the bride and the bridal party Mike hadn’t shut up about over the last few months.

“She’s just sorting the last of the decorations for the ceremony room,” Mike explains, waving a hand to the waitress currently doing the round with a refilled tray of champagne, “She’ll be here soon.” He finished with a wink, which, although is odd, Marcus doesn’t question, just picks up another glass of champagne and stands talking to his friend and whoever is milling around offering their congratulations.

There’s a flurry of conversation that has Marcus turning around a few minutes later, he can see Cassie and her mother, who are pulled to the side by someone from the venue holding up two different types of ribbon, asking which one they want to drape around the columns and which one to tie around the chair backs. It’s not Cassie that Marcus is interested in though, it’s the bridesmaid that follows behind her.

He can feel his throat constrict, a small pit opening in his stomach that’s somewhere between the feeling of dread and excitement. He can feel the palms of his hands starting to get clammy, so he drains his glass and sets it down on the nearest table to avoid an accident. Then, he thinks he might actually pass out when you finally look at him, eyes searching his face and then the glimmer of recognition that you know exactly who he is, remember exactly the last time you’d seen him, and exactly what had happened when you had.

Your leg is bouncing underneath the dining table, food somewhat eaten regardless of the fact that it’s your favourite. You’ve dug half-moon shapes into the palms of your hands and bitten the inside of your mouth enough to taste blood.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” It’s Marcus, sitting across from you, plate cleared, completely oblivious as to what’s about to come.

“I got offered a promotion.” You tell him simply, running one hand up and down your opposite arm in an attempt to soothe yourself.

“Darling!” He exclaims, “That’s amazing!” He doesn’t move to get up, but reaches his hand out, palm up for you to take, which you do, letting his hand softly clasp yours in his own, “Why are you so upset then?”

Taking a deep breath in, biting your bottom lip, you decide it’s best to rip the band-aid off sooner rather than later, “It’s not here, Marcus,” You sigh, “The job is in D.C.”

The smile, the light of his eyes, everything on his face that had just seconds ago been showing joy, had faltered. Much like you imagine your face would have when you’d been offered the job. A significant pay rise, governmental opportunities, bigger clients, a shot at being a proper lawyer for once, but with the caveat that you had to uproot your comfortable Austin life for D.C. and with it, Marcus Pike.

“I don’t have to go,” You follow up with, “I haven’t accepted yet, I’ve got some time to think.”

You feel him squeeze your hand, his other palm coming out to rest on your wrist, slowly tracing the blue veins he can see there, “Look at me,” He asks softly, which you do, the tears that had been forming in your own eyes starting to spill down your cheeks when you find Marcus’ eyes glassed over too, “Baby, this is such an amazing opportunity, you can’t say no because of me.”

Because that’s what you would be doing. Marcus, brilliant, funny, intelligent Marcus, wouldn’t be able to follow you to D.C. There had been some talk about his work in the Art Crimes team with the higher ups, people who were impressed at his success rate, people who wanted to keep him here, send him off to California even. He was at too much of a crossroads to be able to follow you to D.C.

“I don’t want to lose you though,” You sniff, free hand coming to wipe away some of the tears that are falling from your eyes, “I love you.”

Marcus hums, finally pushes himself off his chair, letting the legs scrape across his kitchen floor, until he’s sat right in front of you, knees touching, his palms on the tops of your thighs, warm and soothing, “I love you too,” He says, bringing one hand up to cup your cheek, making sure you’re looking at him, “But this is what you’ve wanted, you’ve been working so hard baby and I’m not going to let you stay here just because of me.”

It’s killing you inside, because you want so badly to ask him to follow you. To drop everything and come to D.C. You’ve been together two years, you’re comfortable together, he makes you so happy, you’ve talked about moving in together, starting a life together, but you know deep down you’re asking him to do something unfair.

“So, I guess your stance on long-distance relationships hasn’t changed?” You ask, tone soft and sad, tears falling down your cheeks.

You watch him as his own tears fall, his hands clutching your own so tightly as he gives you a soft smile, “Baby, I wish I could say yes, I wish I could drop it all and follow you, or promise you we’d talk on the phone every day and see each other every weekend, but you know we can’t do it.”

Biting at your lip, you nod, because you know he’s right. You’re a lawyer, you barely have free time as it is - weekends more often than not spent sat on the couch with him, tapping away at your laptop whilst he looks over case files. It would never work.

Marcus leans forward, presses a kiss to your forehead, then pulls you into a hug. You clutch your hands to his back, inhaling the smell of him on his shirt , watching the light blue turn darker as it catches your tears.

“When do you go?” He asks quietly into the crook of your neck, soft kiss placed to the skin right after.

“A few weeks, probably.”

“Well, let’s enjoy them while we still can, hey?” You nod silently, “And maybe one day, we’ll find each other again.”

“And maybe one day, we’ll find each other again.”

Those words still echo in your ears four year later, like they have at various different points since you last saw Marcus Pike. Leaving had been hard. He’d helped you pack everything up, driven you to the airport, kissed you before security and promised he wouldn’t forget you. You’d text a for a few weeks before life dragged you in one direction and him in another. No-one had quite been able to live up to him either. Sure, you’d tried dating, seen people for a few months before deciding they weren’t quite the man who had almost been able to give you everything you ever wanted.

And now here he is, standing in front of you, pale as a ghost as if he’s about to keel over and have a heart attack. You want to run to him, to fling yourself into his arms and make sure he’s real. You want to press your lips to his, let him kiss you like he always used to, to clutch you to his body and whisper sweet things into your ear, but you have no idea what he’s been doing these past four years - for all you know, you could get closer and find a wedding band across his left finger.

It’s a blessing when Cassie’s hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you over to the side.

“Do you prefer the dusky rose or the blush pink?” She asks, holding up two ribbons that look identical to your eye.

You want to tell her does it really matter, they both look exactly the same. You want to tear your wrist away from her and go to Marcus, but instead you settle for a warm smile and “It’s your wedding Cass, you choose what you want.”

And when you turn around, looking back over to Mike, Marcus Pike is nowhere to be found. Like he was a mirage. A figment of your hopeful imagination. Something conjured up after your mother had set you down at the airport and said, “Bridesmaid’s always get lucky at weddings, you might find your own husband.”

When everyone is called to sit down for the rehearsal dinner, you jump at the opportunity to let Cassie sit down and eat, whilst you get pulled away by the staff to advise on which candles to use for the ceremony room and where exactly to place the flower arch for the best photos tomorrow. When you make it back, everyone is standing, milling around, getting drinks from the bar, which you decide you desperately need.

“A negroni, please.” You ask for after taking a few seconds to peruse the cocktail menu set out. The stronger the better.

“I see your tastes haven’t changed in the last few years.”

You’re pretty sure that if there was a mirror in front of you, the look of shock on your face would be comical, as Marcus Pike sidles up to the bar next to you. Up close, he’s just as handsome as he always had been, except now, he’s got a beard and more fine lines in the corners of his eyes, which means he’s been happy, smiling, whilst you’ve been gone. It makes your heart swell that he’s been happy.

“I wonder if yours have.” You counter, tilting your head towards the bartender who is waiting for him to order.

“Just a beer for now.” He smiles, but at you, not the bartender.

“That’ll be a no then.”

There’s a moment of silence between the both of you as you sip the cocktail given to you, and Marcus takes a swig of his beer. His left hand is wrapped around the bottle, no sign of the wedding ring you were convinced you’d find. You want to say something, anything, but when you go to open your mouth, he beats you to it.

“You look well.”

You can’t help but chuckle. Of all the things he could have chosen to say to you, you hadn't thought it would be that.

“So do you.” You compliment back.

There’s another silence, the two of you just looking at each other. You’re soaking him up, committing him to memory to replace the old Marcus you knew so well.

“Are you here alone?” You ask, playing with the glass in your hand.

You watch as he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, “Are you?”

“I asked you first, Agent Pike.”

He tilts his head towards his shoulder in a movement that says he’ll give you that one, “I’m here alone.”

You can’t help but smile a little, biting at your bottom lip to try and hide how pleased you are, “So am I.”

Looking up at him through your lashes, you notice the exact moment those brown eyes that you’re so used to getting lost in darken, watching you as you sip your drink, tip of your tongue jutting out to catch a drop from your bottom lip.

“Is your room completely over the top?” You ask, watching as he swallows deeply, “Because mine is, I’d love to know what the honeymoon suite must be like.”

“Depends what you mean by completely over the top?” He quirks an eyebrow.

“Do you want me to show you?”

He doesn’t even respond. He sets his half-finished beer down on the bar, takes your almost-empty negroni from your hand and does the same. Then he’s taking hold of your hand, lacing your fingers together like he always did, dragging you out of the room. You turn to find Cassie and Mike, looking at you both as you have to jog to keep up with Marcus’ pace. Both of them are winking, smiling, and Mike even throws a thumbs up your way. You can feel heat rising on your cheeks as you turn your head away from them.

“Which floor?” Marcus asks then you reach the grand staircase in the lobby.

“Second.”

He doesn’t let go of your hand, but takes the stairs two at a time, meaning by the time you reach the second floor, you’re out of breath from running behind him, trying to keep up.

“Which room?”

It’s your turn to lead him now, stepping in front of him to walk down the hallway to room 212. You fish the keycard from the back pocket of your jeans, wasting no time in pushing the door open when the tiny light turns green.

It’s dark inside, but you don’t care. Marcus Pike pins you against the wall, his thigh between your legs, both hands on your waist, and then his lips are on yours. The way he kisses hasn’t changed a bit. His mouth slants over yours, softly at first, but when you open your lips against his, hands clutching at the collar of his shirt, it’s just like you remember from all those years ago. He tastes the same, mint from the gum he always chews, the tang of the beer on his tongue, and that distinct taste that’s just him.

He swallows a groan from you as your pitch your hips down, denim rubbing on denim as he devours your mouth. His hands on your waist trail down just a little, finding the top of your jeans, floating under your shirt just a little to touch the bare skin underneath. His hands are warm and strong as they start guiding you to move against his thigh as his tongue works against yours.

Marcus pulls away from your mouth just as a particularly breathy moan leaves your mouth. It makes you both stop. Stand still. Eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room as you both realise exactly what’s happening. You know you should stop, talk about what’s clearly about to happen, but when did talking ever help anything.

“Don’t think about it,” Marcus sighs, leaning down to trail kisses along your jaw, “We talk after.”

“We talk after.” You say, mainly to the room more than anything else.

Your hands are still clutching at his shirt when his fingers find the button on your jeans. Still as adept at it as he’d always been, he pops the button open and pulls down the zipper, letting his hand trail down, settling across the lace of your underwear, cupping your pussy, letting his fingers trace along skin through lace.

A hiss leaves your mouth as you work your body in time with the slow, teasing movements of Marcus’ hand, “You’ve changed,” You manage to breathe out, your hand coming to the back of his neck to pull his mouth nearer to yours, “When you were desperate for me you’d never tease.”

You can feel his lips smile against the skin of your neck where he’s tracing wet kisses along the skin, hand still feather-light between your legs, “I’ve learnt to be more patient, honey.”

“And if I asked you not to?”

“In all the years I knew you, never once did you beg for it.” He pulls back, your eyes now accustomed to the dark, able to see him better, his voice is low, “Unless you’ve changed, you’ll have to put up with it.”

You grasp his cheeks in your palms, his hand still teasing you, pull his attention to you fully, “Marcus Pike, I swear to all that is holy that if you do not spread me out on my bed and fuck me in the next five minutes, I will die.”

He makes a ‘tsk’ sound, his head shaking in your hands, “That’s not begging for it honey,” He coos, “You gotta ask nicely for it.”

You let out a grumble of frustration, but you have to admit, this new version of the man you knew so well before is enticing. You can feel the way wetness is settling between your thighs, you’re sure if he dipped his fingers down he’d have some smart comment about how soaked you were for him already.

So you swallow your pride, you know it’ll be worth it in the end, “Please.”

“Good girl.”

It all happens in a flurry. One moment you’re against the wall, the next your back is against the mattress, Marcus’ hips pressed to yours as his hands work to push your shirt up and off your body. Your back hits the mattress again and his mouth is on you almost instantly, his lips trailing down your sternum, between the valley of your breasts. Pushing himself back on his knees, he brings his hands to the cups of your bra, pulling them down. Your nipples pebbling against the cold of the air.

His lips are back on you almost immediately, nipple enveloped into the warmth of his mouth, tip of his tongue flicking at it, making your back arch off the bed, pressing further into his mouth. Your hand comes to tangle in the curls at the back of his head, anchoring him to your body. As his mouth works across your chest, you can’t quite believe what’s happening to you. The man of your dreams, the person you always thought you were destined for, back, right here between your thighs, the bulge in the front of his jeans all too familiar to you.

Head tipped back in pleasure, you breathe out into the air, “I can’t believe you’re here.”

He tears off your breast with a wet pop, looking up at you through his lashes, mouth kissing down your body, across the soft of your tummy, he taps at your sides, lifting your hips up to drag your jeans and underwear down your legs, flung behind him and forgotten when you plant the flat of your feet onto the bed and let your knees fall open.

Marcus isn’t a religious man, he never has been, but knelt between your thighs, hands flying to rid himself of his clothes, watching as you gingerly trail your hand between your thighs, eyes on him as you play with your clit, he thinks he might have to start believing. As he stands to take the last of his clothes off, standing at the foot of the bed, naked with his cock in his hand, watching your face, he thanks the Lord for whatever mischief they had to concoct to get you back here with him.

He crawls back up your body, kissing from ankle to thigh, settling himself between your thighs, cock sliding through your slick folds as he lays his body down against yours, one of his hands slipping under your neck, cradling the back of your head, the other cupping your cheek, moving your face to look right into his eyes. He’s so fucking close to you, lips barely a hairs breadth from your own.

“I have to be inside you,” He pants against your mouth, “I promise I'll spend hours between your thighs later baby, but I have to be inside you.”

He doesn’t give you any time to respond, just shifts his hips a little, sinking himself into your aching cunt. You arch up into him, moaning against his mouth as he stills. The hand clutching at your cheek trails down your neck, thumb flicking against your nipple as it travels to rest on your hip.

“Stop squirming,” He pleads, “Please.. Just stay still a minute.”

He feels so right, nestled inside your pussy. The weight of his body pressed against yours takes you right back to all the nights before, locked away in his Austin apartment in the dead of night, making each other feel good, making promises at the height of your combined pleasure to each other that never materialised. You can feel tears settle in your eyes as he starts moving, pulling himself out of you slowly, pushing back in even slower.

Marcus leans down, kissing the salty tears from your cheeks, shushing you, “Don’t cry baby,” He whispers into your ear, “I’ve got you now.”

Your hands are clutching at his shoulders, nails digging small, half-moon shapes into his skin there. He feels just as incredible moving inside you as he always did, but there’s something settling in your tummy, the feeling that you knew so well with him, that you’ve only really known with yourself since.

“I can feel you baby,” Marcus groans into your ear as the thrusts of his cock get a little faster, a little harder, “Clenching all perfectly around me,” He takes hold of one of your wrists, dragging it between the both of you, resting it right where you need it, “I won’t last baby,” He admits, “Touch yourself and we’ll do it together?”

So you do, you rub tight, precise circles over your clit as Marcus pushes himself up, takes your thighs in his palms, pushing your legs back as far as he can. The change in angle makes you cry out as he really starts fucking you now. The only sounds in the room are the slapping of his skin against yours, your whimpers and his groans. You can feel the tightening coil across your abdomen, breath hitching in your throat, you’re so fucking close to coming undone on him.

“Marcus,” You whine, “I’m gonna-” You trail off as he shifts a little more, pressing your legs further back, cock hitting that unholy sweet spot inside you, “Gonna come.”

“Go on baby,” He encourages, “I’ll be right behind you.”

And that’s how it ends. Eyes shut so tightly you can feel tears pooling at the corners, cunt clenching around his cock as you cry out his name. It’s so familiar, the way it feels, the way he sounds, like no time has passed at all and you’re exactly the same as you’d both been four years ago. He’s pounding into you as your body convulses underneath, thighs shaking and toes curling as his hips start to stutter.

“Where?” He manages to choke out, his tone reminiscent of all those times before when he was holding on, teetering on the edge, wanting to know what you wanted.

“I’m s-safe,” You manage to choke out, head reeling from your own orgasm, “The pill.”

He doesn’t need to hear anymore, finally giving in, knowing you’ve fallen apart for him, he’s groaning your name into the dark, you can feel him spilling into you, claiming you, marking you as his own in a way only the two of you could ever understand. He lets go of your thighs, letting your legs drop back into comfort as he slowly drags himself from you, collapsing onto the bed next to you.

There’s a few moments of silence. Your arm is draped across your face, chest rising and falling as you try to suck in enough air to calm your breathing, Marcus doing the same across the bed. You roll over, putting yourself on your side so you can look at him. He’s led on his back, head turned to look at you in the dull light of the room - the moonlight through the window the only thing illuminating the two of you. He reaches out, traces your face with his hand.

“I can't believe you’re real.” He speaks softly, rolling over to face you, pulling your warm body to his.

“I know we said we’d talk after,” You whisper, hand trailing over his waist to rest across his back, “But can we just stay like this for a while?” It’s a soft plead, you don’t want to be reminded that this was probably a bad idea, you want to hold this man in front of you and forget that in a few short days it’ll all be over, he’ll go back to wherever he is now, and you’ll go back to D.C. lonelier than ever.

“I’ll stay here as long as you’ll let me, honey.”

Marcus, against his better judgement, stays with you all night. You don’t talk. You curl up into his side, settle against his body as he wraps his arms around you. It’s inevitable that he casts his mind back to how things used to be. To the history you share with each other. He still, to this day, hasn’t stopped thinking about you, about what would have been if you’d stayed. Would you be married? Probably, he thinks. He’d thought of it often towards the end, before your promotion. Stopped outside jewellery shops, tried to imagine which kind of ring you’d want – he’d even slipped one of your rings onto his own finger, figuring out where it stopped so he could pick the right size when the time came. Would you have children? He isn’t sure, neither of you had ever spoken about it, you’d never expressed a want to have them, but he’s certain if you’d have asked, he’d have given them to you.

He falls asleep, waking up hours later, darkness still pervading. He turns on his side, spooning his front to your back. You’re half-awake when you press yourself back into him, bring your hand up to clutch at his head as he slips inside you once more, his hand holding your thigh up. He breathes into your ear, whispers filth to you as he rocks his hips against you. When you feel his teeth trail over your shoulder, he chuckles when you tell him off.

“I can’t walk down the aisle with bruises on my shoulders, Marcus.”

It’s soft, and he tips you over the edge, feeling you clench around him as his fingers trace circles over your clit, following just behind you, filling you up once more. He doesn’t pull away from you, just settles your thigh back down, resting himself inside of you as you both fall back to sleep.

Then, he’s awake before your alarm. He wakes you with a kiss to your forehead, tells you to go back to sleep when you protest and try and coax him back to the warmth of your sheets. He has to shower he says, has to help Mike get ready, but he’ll be waiting for you, watching you all day. Marcus smiles, really smiles, when you curl over back onto your side, soft breaths and mumbles as you fall back to sleep, and as he walks to his own room and stands waiting for the shower to warm, there’s a feeling of content that spreads through him – should he have fucked you last night? Probably not. Should he have encouraged you to talk more? Probably yes. He knows he’s got his cards hidden, he’s not letting on that this might not have to just exist here, but he’ll keep that to himself for just a little longer.

“So,” Cassie smirks from her place in the make-up chair, artist flitting around her, pressing all number of products into her face, “You and the groomsman?”

“Shut up,” You mutter to her, trying not to scratch at your face, make-up already settling uncomfortably across your skin, “A momentary lapse of judgement.”

She hums, and then moves her focus back to the make-up artist who is tilting her face to put on some blush, “You don’t have to lie to me, you know,” She says to you as you pass her a mimosa, “I know that was Marcus. The Marcus.”

There’s a moment where you feel like a deer in headlights, like you’ve been caught being up to no good, even though you know that’s not the case. Then you turn slowly to her, eyebrow raised, and see her smirking, much to the chagrin of the make-up artist who urgently wants to get her lipstick on her so she can move onto the final bridesmaid.

“He’s Mike’s friend, they went to school together, see each other quite often these days – apparently he always talks about a girl from Austin, no-one could ever compare, he’s tried moving on, done this, done that, but always came back to thinking about the one who got away,” She stops talking to take a drink, “Which sounded oddly familiar to someone else I know.”

She’s not wrong really – Cassie had been a lifeline when you’d moved to D.C. a work colleague turned best friend, who has been the shoulder to cry on whenever dates had gone badly, or even when they’d been good, but you just couldn’t get Marcus Pike off your brain. She told you, like most good friends would, that it would take time, you’d find someone right for you, someone who would take your mind right off Marcus, but it never happened.

“You did this on purpose!” You accuse, but its friendly, because really, her and her soon-to-be husband have only done what you had always wanted to do yourself, pick up the phone, no matter how long it has been and tell the man you still loved him.

“Of course we did,” She chuckles, “Don’t think about it too much,” She adds, “Just enjoy this today and most of all, behave yourself.”

When Cassie walks down the aisle, it’s not her that Marcus is looking at – it’s you. He hadn’t thought it possible for him to find you more beautiful than he had before, but in your dark green dress, slit cut into the fabric to show off one of your legs as you walk, dress cut perfectly to sit on all the curves of your body that he always did love, he can’t deny you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He spends the entire ceremony making eyes at you, smirking when you meet his gaze. He wants to tell you how lovely you look, lean down and plant a kiss to your lips in front of everyone, but he doesn’t get a chance until cocktail hour, once you’ve had your pictures taken and Cassie has insisted on you finally having a drink and enjoying your day instead of flapping about whether she needs anything from you.

“Has anyone told you how beautiful you look today?” He asks, hand settling on your waist as you lean against the bar waiting for your drink.

“Funnily enough, it’s not me most people have been looking at.” You quip back, taking the margarita from the bartender when it’s handed to you.

“I’ve been looking at you.”

“I know,” You smirk, “Pretty sure I ruined my panties stood at the top of the aisle.”

“Because the ceremony moved you so much?”

“Because I couldn’t stop thinking about your face between my thighs, actually.”

He looks exactly like he always used to when you flirt with him like this. Eyes low and dark, mouth slightly ajar like he can’t quite believe you’ve just been so forward. He’s not thinking straight anymore, and much like he had done last night, he grips around your wrist and starts dragging you from the reception room, this time there are considerably more people so you manage to slip out unnoticed.

Instead of heading up the stairs, taking you to your room or his, he turns left down a hallway, tearing open the door to one of the bathrooms. It’s a single stall, lock clicking behind him. You press your back against the wall, setting your drink down on the sink.

Marcus takes three steps towards you, hand slipping around your waist, pulling you flush against his body, lips so close that you can feel his breath on your skin.

“Do you know how sinful you’ve looked all day?” He asks, “Walking around looking all innocent, but I know you’ve been begging to get fucked all day, haven’t you?” You whine at him in response, trying to chase his mouth as he pulls back, “Don’t think I didn’t see you rubbing your thighs together during the ceremony.”

“It’s only because you wouldn’t stop looking at me.”

His hand finds the skin of your thigh, the slit of your dress making it easy for him to trail up to the hem of your panties.

“If I put my fingers on you,” He breathes, “Will you be wet?”

“Why don’t you find out?” You cock your head to the side, biting your lip as you look at him, his hand pulling your panties to the side, thick fingers slipping between your folds.

“Baby,” He moans, finally taking your bottom lip between his, nipping your skin with his teeth a little before he pulls away, fingers slipping inside you, pulling a groan from your throat, “Soaked for me?”

“Always, Marcus.”

He drags his fingers from you, spins you around, and reaches down to bring your palms up to rest against the wall in front you. He puts his hands on your hips, dragging your ass backwards until you can feel him through his trousers. His hands shuck your dress up to your waist and instead of tearing your panties off, he pushes them to the side. You look over your shoulder at him, as much as you can, and watch as he undoes his belt, pulls the zipper of his trousers down and reaches in, pulling his cock out. His trousers are pushed down just enough to let him free himself, and you don’t think you’ve seen such a beautiful sight in your life, than Marcus Pike with his fist around his cock, running his hand up and down himself as he moves to nudge the head of his cock at your soaked core.

Unlike last night, he isn’t gentle when he pushes into you. He’s buried inside your cunt in seconds, setting a pace that punches the air from your lungs. You know that even though you’re locked in here, away from the party, there’s still every chance someone is going to walk past, try the door handle, and hear exactly what’s going on in here, so you’re trying your best to keep the noise to a minimum.

“Needed you so badly, baby,” Marcus chokes out behind you, hands gripping your hips hard enough that you’re sure you’ll have his fingerprints embedded onto your skin, “Always so pretty for me, aren’t you?”

He’s hitting that sweet spot inside you, over and over again, and you have to bite your lip to keep yourself from crying out. You feel one of his hands trail up your spine through the material of your dress, coming to rest with a grip around the nape of your neck, his fingers itching to slide up into your hair and grip it.

“You can’t,” You plead, “Don’t mess my hair up.”

“I won’t baby.” He pants out from behind you, trailing his hand down just a little so he’s not tempted to take a fistful of it to pull you back, arch you into him even more.

It’s fast and it’s hard, everything Marcus never really used to be. He liked to take his time, spread you out and have you crying for him before he slipped inside you, slowly, watching every contort of pleasure on your face. You think you like this new version of him, the one so desperate to have you he couldn’t make it up the stairs, couldn’t even pull your panties down your legs.

“Marcus,” You moan out, “Please.”

“What’s that, baby?” He asked, mouth right by your ear, “You begging for something?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“What do you want?”

“Make me come?”

You think maybe he might try and tease you some more, but mercifully he takes the hand he’s got resting on your hip and snakes it down your body, letting his fingers find your clit - he had always been good at that. He drags the gathered slick where he can, cock still moving into you, pulling whimpers and moans whenever you feel his skin slap against yours, circles your clit quickly with the pad of his finger. You can feel your walls tightening around him, your thighs starting to shake as he continues doing exactly what he’s doing.

It’s no secret to either of you that making you come always took time. He’d never shamed you for it, always been more than happy to do whatever it took, for as long as it took, to get you there. But the mix of desperation for him, elation that he’s waltzed right back into your life, and the fact he’s fucking you in a public bathroom, have that coil tightening inside you quicker than ever.

“Can feel you getting tight around me baby,” He groans into your ear, “You gonna let go for me?”

You don’t have time to tell him yes. The tight coil snaps inside you, your eyes closed so tightly you’re sure the make-up around your eyes is dragging down your cheeks on tears. You can keep your voice down now as you flutter around his cock, you cry out his name, feeling his hands holding onto your hips to keep you steady as your legs threaten to fall out from underneath you.

You’re only half aware of him speaking into your ear, telling you he’s close. You can feel him start to pull himself out of you, so you reach behind you quickly, fingernails digging into the part of his thigh you can reach to keep him inside you.

“I swear to god if you get cum on my dress Pike, I’ll kill you.”

He lets out a deep, throaty chuckle behind you, slams himself back into you, “You just want an excuse for me to come inside you, don’t you?” He hisses into your ear, teeth nipping at the skin behind your ear, “You just have to ask nicely for it.”

“Please, Marcus, please.”

Never one to deny you, he does, having held out as long as he could, he thrusts once, twice and then he’s moaning your name into your ear. You can feel him spilling inside of you, filling you up, then you can feel him dripping down your thigh when Marcus starts pulling away from you, not quite quick enough to put your panties back on. He tells you to keep still, fumbling behind him for some paper he can use to clean your thighs up.

He speaks to you as he lets the material of your dress fall back down over your legs, “Walking around full of me for the rest of the night.” He coos as you turn around, reaching out to pull his mouth to yours in a chaste kiss.

You stay like that for a moment, both attempting to fix the others clothes. Marcus brings his thumb to his mouth, letting his tongue jut out to wet it, before he drags it under your eye, getting rid of the worst of the black marks he’s caused.

You reach behind him, unlock the door, but take hold of his hand as you push the door open. Thankfully there’s no-one waiting outside to use the bathroom as you drag him back down towards the party.

It’s late. Or early depending on how you look at it. Marcus had dragged you from the dance floor at midnight, walked you slowly up to his room instead of yours. He’d helped you out of your dress, let you shower and wash yourself clean, then, before you could put your robe on and insist on going to sleep, he’d taken your hand, led you to the chair near the balcony doors and he’d made good on his promise of last night to spend hours with his face between your legs.

“I can’t,” You whine, Marcus hand’s pinning your legs open, his tongue flicking against your clit, “It’s too much.”

He pulls off you just enough to speak, “Believe in yourself baby,” He says, sinking two fingers into you, curling them upwards, “I know you can, just one more for me.”

Your whole body feels like its on fire. You’ve lost count of the amount of times he’s made you come tonight. There had been a small reprieve when you’d begged to suck his cock, Marcus obliging, painting your face and your tongue, before he settled right back to his knees. It’s almost as if he thinks if he stops you’ll disappear.

Your fingers are tangled in his hair, battling between tugging his face closer and pulling it away as he sucks your clit into his mouth, the added pressure along with the flicking of his tongue setting your skin on fire even more than before. Your hair is sticking to your forehead and the back of your neck, rivulets of sweat gathering at various points across your body as Marcus tips you over the edge once more.

Your mouth drops open in a silent scream, body feeling boneless as your whole body convulses at his touch. Almost like he knows, he pulls himself away from you gently, knowing that any more would be too much, saving you the need to beg him to stop. He presses soft kisses to the skin of your tummy, kissing up your body until he’s sitting up on his knees, kissing into your mouth, letting you taste yourself on him.

Marcus clambers to his feet, takes hold of your hand and pulls you to your feet, guiding you over to the bed to settle you under the sheets, the air peppering your sweaty skin with goosebumps. It’s a sad realisation that you have to go home tomorrow, that the bubble you’ve caught yourself up in over the past few days is about to burst. You think this might break your heart even more than the first time around.

“What are we going to do?” You ask against the skin of his chest as he pulls you into him.

“What do you mean?” He asks back, kiss pressed lightly to your forehead.

“With us, after this?” Your fingers are tracing over his skin, trying to map the feeling of him before he leaves.

“Well, I thought maybe we could go for dinner sometime?”

You look up at him, face contorted in confusion, “You’re going to come all the way from Austin to take me for dinner?”

“No baby,” He chuckles a little, “I don’t live in Austin anymore, I live in D.C.”

You push yourself up in bed, one hand on the mattress to keep yourself upright, looking down at Marcus, who reaches up to cup your cheek in his hand, thumb rubbing soft lines across your skin, “Since when?”

“Two years?” He offers, “I would have-” He trails off a little, “I would have told you but I wasn’t in a great place when I first moved, had no idea what your life would have even looked like either, I didn’t just want to turn up out of the blue if you’d moved on, found someone else.”

Your hand comes up to clutch at the wrist of the arm cradling your face, “I’ve waited so long for you,” You sigh, “I tried, tried to find someone else, but none of them were ever you Marcus.”

“I tried too,” He admits, because Lord knows he did, and for what? “I promise I’ll tell you everything one day, but right now, I want to fall asleep with you right here.”

You settle back down in bed, curling up against his side, arm draped over his waist, “Where in the city do you live?” You ask, sleep starting to make your eyes heavy.

“I’m on 4th street, in Petworth.”

You can’t help but laugh, because of course he fucking does. Marcus Pike has been living four streets over from you for the past two fucking years.

“You’ve been living four streets over from me for two years, Marcus.”

He runs his hands up and down your spine, gently, soothing you, “Well, that’s convenient, isn’t it?” He asks softly, “I can be at your front door in five minutes.”

“You want to be my booty call, Marcus Pike?”

“If that’s what you want,” He speaks, “I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

“What are you doing Wednesday night?”

“Nothing, as far as I’m aware.”

“How about you take me on a first date?” You offer, “Let’s learn each other all over again and take things from there?”

Marcus colts your chin up to his face with a finger, leaning down and giving you the softest kiss you think you’ve ever received, “I would love nothing more.”

#Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike Smut #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x you #marcus pike fanfiction #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x F!reader #Marcus Pike fic #Marcus Pike fanfic #the mentalist #the mental illness is winning #the mentalist fanfic #the mentalist fanfiction #Pedro pascal #marcus pike fluff #Marcus Pike angst #Marcus Pike Pedro Pascal #Marcus Pike The mentalist

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ashandkatiewrite · 1 year

Text

Summary: It has been five long years since Thanos snapped half of all existence into dust along with half of Bucky's heart. He runs to the life of an assassin as the Winter Soldier once again until he is caught against his wishes in Madripoor. "There is a chance," Steve told him with tears in his eyes. "We're going back. To fix everything." They could all go back to the past. But Bucky had a different plan in mind. And it didn't have anything to do with any infinity stones but everything to do with the reason he'd been running. He was going to fix the biggest mistake he'd ever made.

WRITTEN BY: @if-you-onlyknew & @katiekinswrites

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/OFC

Rating: M (Mature) & E (Explicit)

PART 2/3 in the: Maggie/Bucky What If (AU) Series - READ PART ONE HERE

CHAPTER 15

preview...

Caroline insisted on seeing her son. She was near hysterics as she cried and laughed during the FaceTime call.

And then she asked where the hell they were. The room behind Bucky, his son and brother in law was vast and strange looking. Especially with the time heist platform behind them.

Christopher deferred to Bucky to answer that question.

“James?” Caroline asked.

Bucky felt an inner qualm every time he lied to Caroline. She still didn’t know exactly who he was after all.

“We’re at the Avengers Compound upstate.”

Caroline’s mouth opened slightly. “Why…?” She asked slowly.

Steve chose that moment to walk in with Bruce right behind him in all of his green and bespectacled glory. “Buck? We need you.”

“Buck?” Caroline repeated. “James, even I know who that is behind you. If Daniel was here…” Her words trailed off for a moment. “I want all three of you to come to Philadelphia.”

“Okay, Mom,” Christopher answered her. “As soon as we can.”

“Now,” she stressed. “Chris,” she said, looking at her grandson, “Make sure, okay? Grandma needs her boy's home.”

“Okay, Grandma. Love you.”

Bucky got up from the couch and approached Steve and Bruce. “What is it?”

“Tony did it… and Rocket.” Steve looked anxious. “The stones are ready for the glove.”

Bucky’s eyes widened. “Shit.” His heart was suddenly slamming against his rib cage. “Not yet. I… I need someone at home for Maggie. She won’t understand why she’s alone.” His hand was in his hair as he looked back at Chris and Christopher.

As much as he needed to be there when Maggie came back — because she would, there was no other choice — he had to be here to make sure it happened.

“I’ll go. I need to see my sister again,” Christopher said as he approached.

Taglist: @ocappreciationtag • @sendmylcve • @arrthurpendragon • @darkwolf76 • @cas-verse • @victoriapedrcttis • @cjand10 • @roosterbradshaws • @seb-soph • @eddysocs • @darylandbethfanforever9

#oc: maggie hastings #fic: i'll crawl home to her #ocapp #bucky barnes #mcu oc #what if au #endgame au #bucky barnes/oc #sophia bush #sebastian stan #bucky barnes fanfic #angst and fluff and smut

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melanieph321 · 16 days

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Ruben Dias x Reader - Good Luck Charm

As a United fan, that was a hell of a game 😁

Either way, I wrote this fic for the man city girlies ❤️

Ruben is upset for getting knocked out of the ucl and blames it on Reader.

Enjoy!

You walked through the door, heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Having watched the replay of the match on the plane, you anticipated what was to come. Ruben would be upset for sure. It was such and important game to him. Telling him about closing your first major deal at work would have to wait.

You stepped into the dimly lit apartment, announcing your arrival. "I'm home!"

Your voice bounced off the walls with the echo, however there was no response.

"Ruben?"

You search for him in the kitchen without any luck.

"Hello? Is anyone..."

You paused in the frame to the living room. Ruben was sitting on the couch, his arms crossed, scowling at the TV.

"Hey, babe," You said, trying to sound cheerful. "When did you get in?"

He shrugged his shoulders, not giving you a second glance. You stepped out of your heels and approached the couch. "I've missed you." You crawled over to him, planting a kiss on Ruben's cheek before settling down beside him. "Have you eaten yet?"

"No." He grunted.

"Well, do you want me to make you something, or should we just order take out?"

Ruben turned to you, eyebrows furrowed.

"What?" You chuckled. He looked a bit intimidating, but since it was unusual for him to be as grumpy as he was, your reaction was to laugh.

"Take out?" He questioned. "Since when do we order take out?"

"I dunno. I thought maybe it would cheer you up. A pizza always puts a smile on my face."

Ruben snorted. "You're fucking unbelievable."

"Hey?" You frowned.

Ruben left your side and got up from the couch.

"Baby, what's the matter?"

"Don't 'hey babe' me," He snapped. "My team lost today. And it's all your fault."

"What do you mean?" You asked, trying to keep her cool. "How could it be my fault?"

"You know how," Ruben said, his voice rising. "You're my good luck charm. And when you're not there, I always lose."

You sighed, having heard this before. You had tried explaining to Ruben that you couldn't be present at every game, but he never listened. He was convinced that you had some kind of magical power that could influence the outcome of sports events.

"Look, I'm sorry, Ruben," You said, trying to placate him. "I really am. But I can't be at every game. I have a job and a life of my own."

Ruben scowled at you. "You never understand anything," he said. "You're always so fucking selfish."

You felt a sting of hurt. You had never meant to be selfish. You had always tried to be supportive of Ruben and his sports career. But it seemed like no matter what you did, it was never enough.

"I'm sorry, Ruben," you said again, your voice shaking. "I'll try to be there for you more often, okay?"

Ruben glared at you for a moment, then stormed off to your room, slamming the door behind him. You were left alone in the living room, feeling hurt and frustrated. You didn't know what to do or what to say when he got like this. Ruben was upset, and rightfully so. Perhaps giving him space was the best thing you could do.

That night, Ruben stayed in your room, leaving you enjoy the evening by yourself. You took yilour time in the shower after dinner and only then dared to enter your bedroom. The room was dark. Ruben lay on the bed with his back to you. You let your towel fall to the floor as you put lotion on your body before jumping into your pajamas, which was just one of Ruben's t-shirts that were big enough for you to sleep in. It smelled like him, which you loved. And you had a feeling that Ruben wouldn't like being near you for a while, so the smell of him would have to do.

"I'm sorry."

You were surprised.

As soon as you slipped under the bed cover, you felt movement behind you, followed by Ruben's arm snaking around your waist, pulling you to lay closer to him.

"I'm sorry for what I said." He whispered, his lips gracing the side of your temple.

"It's okay." You nodded. "I get it. I can't imagine how...."

"No." He groand. "What I said to you was unforgivable no matter how angry I am about the game."

"Ruben." You turned to face him. You could only make out the silhoutte of his face, nevertheless your hand went to rest on his cheek. "It's okay, I know you didn't mean any of it."

"I love." He said.

"I love you too."

Ruben's hand went from your waist to the back of your head, tilting it backwards as he leaned forward and kissed you. His stubble tickled your face, the smell of him invading your space.

"I meant what I said though" He nodded.

"Oh. Well I didn't mean to be selfish, but my job..."

"Not that."

"No? What then?"

There was a puase. You could tell that Ruben's eyes searched your face. He sighed. "You're my good luck charm, Y/N. I really mean that."

You smiled.

"I want you with me every game and I know that's selfish of me but it's what I want. It's what I need."

"You need..."

"You." He nodded. "I play better when I know you're watching."

"Ruben, that's...." The sweetest thing a person has ever told you. However, you weren't able to express your joy as Ruben leaned forward again, pressing his lips against yours. This time, he pressed you harder against him, desperate to have you close. You felt him grow stiff against you and gasped at the sensation of his hand, snaking its way under your shirt, cupping your breast.

"Ruben." You moaned. "I love you. More than anything."

"I love you too." He said, but for the moment he loved your body more, doing absolutely everything to expose it.

Your shirt got tugged over your head and tossed into a corner somewhere. Ruben had already moved to tracing kisses down your belly, not stopping until his head rested between your legs. That's where he paused, looking up at you, his eyes now clear in the night.

"What?" Your hand lay on top of his head, gripping a bundle of his hair.

Ruben smiled. "So, how was work?"

You shook your head in disbelief, "Just finish me off, you superstitious idiot."

#fanfiction #football imagine #ruben dias #man city #manchester city #footballer x reader #footballer imagine #football angst #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine

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tripleyeeet · 9 months

Text

A LOVER'S FOLLY

"THEY DIE FOR LOVE —YOU KILL FOR IT."

PAIRINGS: Astarion & Female Reader

TAGS: 18+ sexual content (eventually), idiots in love, mutual pining, friends to lovers, contains Baldur’s Gate 3 spoilers!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi, the Astarion/BG3 brain rot got too much so I had to write a fic about it. Hope you enjoy! :)

MASTERLIST

PLAYLISTS:

magnificent bastard!

a lover's folly

CHAPTERS:

bleed you dry

the rogue tax

if thoughts could tease

fear of losing it

painful vulnerabilities

i care for you

where's your patience?*

i'm starving, darling

in unfair hands we're dealt

a foolish lover's offering

guard dog

go slow

deliverance, deliver me

i'll crawl home to her

my love is mine, all mine

*chapter 16 coming soon!

#a lover's folly #astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion fan fic #astarion series #astarion x female reader #astarion x reader #astarion x you #summer writes

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dixons-sunshine · 1 month

Note

daryl and wife reader having a mini 3 year old daryl and shes sassy like her mama also shes really smart and daryl just being the best father and husband to be ❤️❤️

Daddy's Little Girl | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine*

Summary: Life in your little home in Alexandria was amazing. You had a wonderful husband and a beautiful daughter you couldn't be more proud of, especially since she brings out parts of your husband you couldn't help but admire.

Genre: Fluff

Era: Alexandria, post Saviour war, post the building of the bridge

Warnings: None.

Word count: 965

A/n: This sucks so bad. I didn't really know where to go with this and scrapped so many attempts, so I'm sorry for the bad quality. I hope this is still somewhat enjoyable at least.

Rick never went missing in this because I'm in my feels after seeing him look for a gift for RJ.

It's not a major plot point, but there are mentions of Rick in this. Also, my default name for any fics involving Daryl having a daughter will be Hazel because I've grown to love the nickname I came up with for my last Dad!Daryl fic, which is Hazelnut.

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests, as well as Scud Frohmeyer requests.

—

“No, Daddy. You can't.”

“'Course I can,” Daryl retorted playfully, taking the purple crayon from his daughter's hand. “Yer not even usin' the crayon, Hazelnut. Yer jus' holdin' it while yer colourin' with the red crayon. I need the purple more than ya do righ' now.”

Hazel huffed and folded her small arms over her chest, sending Daryl her version of a glare that the archer found absolutely adorable and amusing. “Not fair, Daddy. Gonna use it soon.”

“Until then, I'll use it. Once you need it, jus' ask, alrigh'?” Daryl told her, and chuckled when he saw her huff again and reluctantly continue to draw with the red crayon.

Daryl looked up and locked eyes with you, amused smiles on both of your faces. You were seated on the couch with Dog's head resting on your lap, fixing up one of the archer's favourite shirts while he entertained your daughter as she waited for Michonne to come pick her up for a sleepover with RJ. Daryl looked back down at his piece of paper and continued on with his drawing while you continued on with fixing up his shirt.

You silently listened to Hazel's happy babbling, smiling fondly at the father and daughter duo drawing stick figures and shapes. Suddenly, Hazel huffed again and threw the crayon down in frustration, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What's wrong, baby?” you asked, glancing at your daughter.

“I don't want to draw anymore,” she declared, crawling over to Daryl and clambering into his lap for a hug.

Daryl instantly dropped the crayon in his hand and embraced her, pulling her into his chest. Hazel nuzzled her face into his neck, giggling at the kisses Daryl placed on her face.

“It tickles, Daddy,” she giggled, bringing her small hands up to his stubble.

Daryl smiled and abruptly stood up with Hazel in his arms, eliciting a yelp of surprise from her that was quickly followed by more laughter. Daryl spun her around while placing more playful kisses all over her face, careful not to drop her. Dog jumped up from the couch with a happy bark, circling around Daryl as he wagged his tail happily.

You laughed at the shrieks of laughter that fell from your daughter's mouth. “Don't drop her, Daryl,” you warned him when he stumbled slightly. You turned your head when you heard a knock on the door.

“Never,” Daryl replied, placing one final kiss on Hazel's cheek before placing her down on the floor. He ruffled her hair before stalking over to the door, you getting up from the couch and trailing behind him.

Daryl opened the door and the two of you came face to face with Michonne, who had RJ perched on her hip. She smiled at the two of you in greeting, rubbing RJ's back soothingly.

“Hey, guys. Is she ready to go?”

Daryl hummed and turned around, calling out to Hazel. “Hazelnut! Auntie Michonne's here!”

You grabbed the sleepover bag that you had placed near the door earlier that day and handed it over to Michonne. Hazel's footsteps got louder until she ran up to you, hugging you before hugging Daryl. She then turned to Michonne and took her outstretched hand.

“Bye, Mama. Bye, Daddy.”

“Bye, sweetheart. Be good for Michonne and Rick, okay?” you greeted her.

She nodded and took off with Michonne, happily conversing with RJ while they walked. You closed the door and locked it, turning around to face Daryl. The archer smiled at you and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly.

You were confused but soon hugged him back, nuzzling your face into his chest. Daryl placed a soft kiss on the top of your head before resting his chin there, slightly rocking you side to side.

“Not that I'm complaining in the slightest,” you mumbled, pressing a kiss against his chest. “But what's with the hug?”

Daryl remained silent for a moment. “S'jus' 'cause I love ya. And I can't believe how lucky I am to have ya and Hazel in my life.”

“Well, believe it, Dixon. I love you so much. So does daddy's little girl,” you replied, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.

“I love ya both too. Yer the most important people in my life. I'd die fer ya.”

“Hopefully it never comes down to that. You're dying a very old man if I can help it,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Daryl wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Dun' worry. I ain't plannin' on dyin' on ya anytime soon.”

You smiled at him. “Good to know. That's really good to know.”

#krys writes .ೃ࿐#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #the walking dead #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #twd daryl #norman reedus #norman reedus x you #norman reedus x reader #dad!daryl dixon #dad!daryl

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sherwees · 2 months

Text

cw : y/n is kinda freaky in this idk (I snorted), guess who's our roommate important, fat shaming a cat, huge cat alert, mega pussy(cat), jeno big schlong core, desperate jeno (but only for a second), just a simple blowjob and his cum tastes like WHAT?!

side note: I took long asl writing this because I'm so used to writing for wayv like the 2 day gap between the haechan fic and hendery fic compared to the 13 day gap between this fic and the hendery fic makes me SICK.

extra note: I've never written for jeno before either.

apart of the nct corny plots series!

why were you so excited for a fuckass plumber?

you had a bigger problem anyway, under your sink it smelt like fucking mold and water.

man fuck this.

your roommate, jungwoo was barely home.. you asked him if he knew anything about pipes and he only sent a dog emoji.

there was a familiar brushing in between your feet, you looked down at your fatass white cat, nella rubbing against your ankles. jungwoo thought that it'll be funny to make her rhyme with nutella because her old owner said that supposedly.. she ate jars of it.

picking her up, you think you tore your acl but once you met eyes with her; you felt kinda bad. isn't that basically neglecting..? but whatever, she's fine now.

nella's head nudged against your flat hand against the counter, you obligated unconsciously to petting her whilst spacing out on a random hummingbird perched on a fence.

“nella, do you think I'm weird?” you asked the unaware feline, she only licked your palm with a sequence of purrs. that was probably a yes. you sighed and fixed the navy blue edge of your short nightgown, there was then a knock at your door.

it's must've been him before nella jumped her big ass down and skedaddled to the basement. “who is it?” you called whilst heading towards the door, trying to identify the warpy figure through the translucent glass. “uhm, I'm here to fix your pipes” jeno, you presumed, scratched his head, you could make out his muscular figure.

you opened the door with uncertainty and the first thing you noticed was his dirty ass uniform and the smell of dirt and water bouncing off your senses. “you're jeno, right?” you said with a coy smile, trying to not look at his bulky torso by keeping unwanted eye contact. he only nodded, his shy doe eyes met yours finally.

“well, don't be shy.. come in then.” you muttered, you might've even given him a dirty look. this hefty nearly 6 foot male was so shy for what, what if he was a criminal? eligible for death row?!

not your problem, for now.

right now.. you wanted to have his kids.

you unconsciously licked your lips as he walked past, like that one italian weirdo from that weird italian movie where they fucked every 39 minutes. you know, that one? why was his ass fatter than yours?

“um, what seems to be the problem?” jeno's voice echoed from the kitchen, snapping you out of your thoughts. only yelping an “oh!”, you shuffled like a flintstone to the kitchen and found him leaning in the corner of your kitchen counters; looking at the sink and you with uncertainty.

“oh well,” you clasp your hands walking over to the sink. “so basically.. urm.. uh” you side eyed him for a second before scratching your head. “it smells like mold and.. urm..” you looked at his nose again, stop looking at his nose, don't look at his lips?! why are you looking at his DICK?!

“I'll just show you.” you sighed before falling to your knees and opening the cabinet, the smell of mold almost made you shrivel into a fucking pinecone. jeno must've gotten whiff of it too because his nose scrunched in disgust and he held back a gag, but soon you'll be gagging on his– not now.

“see, but I think—” you said, slapping your hands in dismay. you crawled under the sink, looking for that bitchass rustic pipe that you glanced at earlier. “it seems like it's this one pipe–” you babbled on and on about the pipe, literally it sounded like mimimimimi. but he really focused on, your negligee raising with every subtle movement of yours; you weren't even wearing panties..

you were leaking, more than the pipes probably.

and it needed some fixing.

if you get what I'm saying hahahaha ahhahahahah oh.. never mind.

“yeah and all he does is send me–” you came from under the sink, jeno's tongue clicked. his expression was a line between curious, perplexed, maybe focused on something.

“oh.” you mumbled, he was spaced out on something and definitely didn't listen to your rant about you undependable roomie. you looked behind you to see what he was so interested in besides your rambling but you only looked at him in confusion.

“um..” you popped your lips inward before he suddenly cleared his throat. his eyes widening in a quick realization, “oh my fault..” his belt scuffled against the cabinet when he tried to adjust his now.. erection.

urmmm, let's just ignore that.

he anchored his back slightly, “there seems to be a lot of moisture–” he paused weirdly, eyeing your slick hole once you looked away. “on that one rusty pipe..” the male pointed at the anomaly. you could only nod, hands respectfully clasped together.

“so, I'mma start working on that..” he said whilst grabbing a wrench. “it only needs a replacement and I should be done..” he reassured, raising his head with a squiggly grin; his cheeks flushed.

simply, you nodded awkwardly before he continued with his work. what do you do now? you decided to situate yourself on your couch, glancing at him every once and a while. but during one of your peeping moments, there was a big white blob heading towards jeno.. wait NELLA?!

the feline brushed against his leg, jeno froze. you bit your lip in fear that he'll just storm out or what if he breaks out in hives? with a gut wrenching clang of his wrench, your fucking heart stopped. but, his hand extended towards the mass you called your beloved cat and your heart resumed but it still kept a hectic beat.

nella approached his inviting hand before she started to lick his index before grazing her teeth on his nail; about to bite him. almost breaking your ankle, twisting it, stubbing your toe, chipping a nail, almost falling over nothing, almost falling over a plant, almost falling over a chair, almost dying, you pick up nella and almost tear your fucking hamstrings.

she ended up biting your forearm instead and threw herself down the basement stairs, “oh, I'm sorry..” you carried a solemn tone whilst rubbing at the small but wide bite mark with a sigh. jeno stands to his feet, concern etched on his features as he inspects the wound.

his hand found your wrist and pulled it towards him, you winced at the rough padding of his fingers. “cats could really be unpredictable, huh?” he declared playfully as miniscule drops of blood seeped from the wound, you giggled at his comment but it wasn't fucking funny because what if you got rabies? you wished he would actually just break out into hives right now.

“I mean.. are you okay?” jeno finally looked up at you, his deep black eyes punctured into your soul.. there was some sort of romantical vibe in them.

you blunk and the room spun.

there's suddenly rose petals EVERYWHERE, the room is hot as hell, careless whisper is playing in the background and he suddenly has a comically large moustache like mario, “mi mujer, mi todo, ¿te importaría si atendiera tu herida?” his sultry gaze met your muddled face, his eyebrow raised suggestively and the buttons of his shirt popped in your face and revealed his toned torso. you seriously have no words and even I can't explain this scene as I'm typing it.

you only nodded before jeno broke out into pirouettes as he spun to the bathroom and came back with bandages twirling around and above him into a pretty pattern of curls and ended in a break out of elegant dance moves then a split.

“mi amor déjame atenderte..” he placed a chaste kiss on the lesion, it burned. he wrapped the bandage around your forearm and tore it off with a smirk.

everything was suddenly back to normal, his moustache was gone. “man what the fuck was that?!” you stumbled back and rubbed your bandaged arm in confusion, jeno's lips were parted in bewilderment. he was staring like it was your fault,

“nothing happened?” he stated sternly.

“yes, something happened! you turned into a fucking whatever the fuck!”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” he retorted, crossing his arms across his torso and steadying his weight on one foot with a pop to his hip. “you know what, never mind.. is my sink fixed?” you asked with restraint frustration whilst rubbing your forehead, keeping yourself steady on the island just incase you would black out.

jeno shook his head, “I mean, I could fix it faster if you helped a bit..?” he asked shyly and smiled when you nodded, you now noticed the crinkle in his eyes when he did so.. heading over to the sink, you crawled into the small space along with him.. he handed you the flashlight.

he slid into the confined space, “just point it where my hand is, alright?” he reassured you before continuing with his handiwork. jeno's muscles flexed and strained with every twist and turn of the screws. every once in awhile his leg would nudge against your bare thigh, which you now noticed and pulled the hem of the gown down but it'll just raise up slightly above your ass once again but you're sure that jeno wouldn't notice.

but, he did. the curvature of your ass would be exposed with every subtle movement of his leg, yes he's a weirdo and he's intentionally but unintentionally brushing his knee in that same area. his boner was becoming quite visible and ample than before, his neck burned in restrainted arousal and he was probably a bright cherry red. he swore that if that bitchass dress raised even an inch more, he woul– it did.

“sorry miss, I need to g-get some tools from my truck.” jeno slid out and quickly stood on unsteady feet, you realized that his hands were weirdly set at his groin area once you looked up at him with unintended doe eyes.

uttering a quick “fuck”, he finally gave in.

jeno's hand coursed through your hair gently, his rugged hands running through the tangles. his erection now stood out like a spear like those over exaggerated brazzers videos, his hand gripped your scalp and nudged you towards his soaked tip and pulled his cargos down with the other.

“I– uh.. need you to suck me off, please..” he pleaded stupidly, his speech slurred and rasped slightly as his hand found the hem of his pants. “you're so fucking pretty, please..” he whined once his cock sprung out, you were NOT going to take that flag pole down your throat, but you gave an exception for him. both of his hands found your head, gripping and clenching to your head with urgency, jeno chuckled triumphantly once you parted your lips.

the masculine scent of his member intoxicated your senses, the tip placing a blob of precum on the tip of your nose and ran down to your lip. your tongue peaked out and licked the cream off the bump, it tasted awfully sugary?

enveloping his tip into your mouth, he grunted loudly, his gentle touch turning tense in your hair. jeno's hand guided your head up and down his lengthy member, your narrow esophagus pulsating and clenching with every hurried thrust down it. veins sprawled from his other hand to his neck whilst it gripped the island, his eyes rolling back to his skull once you managed to take him all the way to his base.

“s’ fucking good at this..” he praised in an unattractive wheeze, jaw unhinging to emit another groan. he suddenly stilled at the back of your throat, your glossy,pleading eyes looking up at him. jeno started to gyrate against your nose, your jaw and lips straining trying to accommodate to his girthy base as you held back a series of gags and chokes.

his head bumped and leaked precum against your tonsil once he resumed his shallow thrusts. “m’ so close..” jeno rasped, his balls tensing against your chin. with a final shove of your head and another gag from your end, he exploded in your mouth. why'd it taste like that? you suddenly pulled away, gasping for air at the realization.

“jeno—” you hiccuped, his aching cock bobbed, resting against your top lip; quite literally interrupting you. in your blurry peripherals, nella licked at a small droplet of his release; your stomach caved at the sight.

the sweetness of his cum made you sick, the thick substance coated your throat for what seems to feel like globs. “why does it—” you coughed and choked on air, jeno suddenly picked you up by the armpits and sat your writhing figure on the counter.

“your cum tastes like cheesecake..?”

taglist: @haechansbbg

#nct smut #kpop smut #smut #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct drabbles #nct dream smut #lee jeno smut #kpop drabbles #nct fic #nct fanfic #jeno #nct dream #nct dream fic #nct #jeno smut #jeno x reader

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blog-name-idk · 2 years

Text

(Right) Hook, Line, and Sinker

*Banner by my love @persphonesorchid

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Fem Reader

Genre: College!AU, Roommate!AU, Fluff, Humor, Smut

Summary: Your horrible friends trick you into going to a haunted corn maze, where you inadvertently punch a zombie. Jungkook is, of course, in love.

Word Count: 12,353

Warnings: Smut

AN: This is the penultimate installment of the Autumn Leaves Collab, which is hilariously the reason I even made a Tumblr. We have one cute autumn-themed fic for each of our beloved boys by some seriously fantastic writers, so please go and check them out! Hope you all enjoy :)

~~~~~

(Right) Hook

It was a beautiful autumn day. The leaves were a gorgeous blend of crimson and gold, the temperature was brisk but not freezing, and the sun was kissing the horizon, setting the entire sky aflame in a blaze of unadulterated glory.

You couldn't have asked for a better day to be backstabbed by your friends. In fact, you didn't have any friends. Just terrible people who promised you donuts and cider and then turned around and forced you into a haunted corn maze.

Your best friend had laughed herself to tears watching your expression change when you caught sight of the sign and realization dawned upon your stupid, trusting brain.

"You betrayed me!" you screeched. Mijin dug the knife in deeper by cackling like the evil witch she was.

"It's your own fault for not looking up the name of this place beforehand," she snickered, wiping her eyes dramatically. You huffed and crossed your arms, sinking into your seat with no intention of getting out. They could drag your cold dead body from the car if they wanted to go into the maze.

"I'll pay for your donuts."

"... Okay."

~~~~~

"FUUUUUUUUUCK THIS!" you screeched, sprinting away from the terrifying clown that had leapt out at your group. Your friends doubled over laughing as you sped off, eager to put distance between you and the most recent jump scare.

In fact, you had been a little too eager to escape, and after a couple twists and turns you realized you were lost. Alone. In a creepy corn maze. While the sun was going down and probably also laughing at your idiocy. Fuck.

For a few slow, spooky moments, you struggled between your pride and your sanity. Should you call Meej and ask her to find you, and deal with even worse teasing later? Or should you just woman up and get through this maze to keep the last remaining shreds of your dignity intact? Suddenly, your phone buzzed in your pocket.

Well, that decided that. You weren't gonna go crawling back to her now. They would find your cold, dead corpse in the morning and she would cry at your funeral and you would sneer at the asshole from your new home in hell. If this wasn't already it.

Meej

LMAO DID YOU SERIOUSLY JUST PANIC LOSE YOURSELF

YOU MORON

LOLOLOL

The wind picked up and you jumped as the leaves of the corn stalks rustled tauntingly around you. Every little echo and noise sounded like another monster sent to get you, and a falling leaf made you jump and put your fists up for a fight. The shadows looked as if they were reaching for you with inky fingers, and you couldn't tell if your shivers were from the bite of the air or the chill in your chest.

In your head, you knew that it was all fake, that anyone coming at you was just a paid actor in makeup and costume. Unfortunately, your cowardly reflexes and adrenaline convinced your body otherwise and you crept through the maze like a very tense, jumpy mouse. You were so intent on the possible danger ahead, however, that you didn't notice someone creeping up behind you.

"Boo." You felt the barest whisper of hot breath on your ear and you froze. Then your body went on autopilot.

"NOOOOO!" you screamed as you automatically whirled to face your attacker. You weren't entirely sure what had happened, but suddenly the knuckles of your right hand were on fire and there was a collapsed zombie in front of you cradling his nose.

"Oh my fucking god," you gasped as you realized what you had done. You crouched next to the poor dude probably earning minimum wage, and rummaged around in your bag. Did you not have any tissues or napkins or anything?

"I am so sorry, are you okay? Wait that's a stupid question, your nose is bleeding, uh, fuck, shit, can I help? Oh god."

Your victim's shoulders began to shake and you panicked more - you didn't mean to make anyone cry for fuck's sake. Shit, who was the real monster here? Then you realized that he was laughing.

"Uh… zombie guy?" you asked stupidly, wondering just how hard you had hit him. He smiled widely at you. Unfortunately, combined with the costume makeup and the blood flowing from his nose, the gesture was not as reassuring as he intended it to be. You appreciated the attempt, though.

"Jungkook."

"Sorry?"

"I'm Jungkook. What's your name?"

You stared at the boy, wondering just what was going on in that head of his and just how hard you had hit him. Because you were raised to be a polite young lady and some of society's training stuck despite your attempts to fuck the patriarchy, you ended up responding automatically.

"I'm [Y/n]."

Why had you said that? Was your first name and appearance enough for him to figure out your full name and sue you? Was that why he had asked? Well too bad zombie conman, joke was on him because you were broke as shit. The safest thing would probably be for you to peace out and make yourself scarce, but you were still worried about the blood dripping from his nose.

"Um, I didn't break it, did I?" you asked timidly as Jungkook got to his feet. He offered you a hand up, which you took despite feeling like you should be the one helping him. His skin was warm despite the fact that he must have been in the maze for at least an hour already.

"I don't think so," he replied, dabbing at his nose with his sleeve and adding real blood to what was (hopefully) just fake decoration. "That was a mean right hook."

"I'm so sorry!" you blurted again, guilt filling you at his words. Wait, you weren't supposed to admit fault out loud if you were getting sued, right? You had watched that in a show somewhere.

"Nah, it was hot."

You blinked at him. Surely you hadn't heard correctly. By the way he was grinning at you - and it was not cute, considering you were now staring at a grimacing zombie covered in blood - you in fact had. This guy was not right in the head, and you began backing away slowly.

"Okay that's great!" you babbled. "I'll-see-you-around-bye!"

With that, you turned and sprinted away despite your protesting legs. You really had to start going back to the gym sometime. If you did, maybe your rusty skills would be brushed up enough for you to defend yourself from this weirdo.

~~~~~

Line

Jungkook stared after you as the moonlight illuminated your fleeing form. Your feet barely made any noise as they pounded through the dirt and leaves, and he found himself even more enamored. You hadn't even given him enough time to tell you you were heading deeper into the maze instead of towards the exit. Well actually, that was probably a good thing. He had to be out here for a bit longer and this meant that you might still be around when he got off.

"Dude, what happened?"

He turned to see Taehyung who was dressed as a creepy clown and, in his opinion, looked way scarier than any undead creature could. Because clowns were real. And they could be anywhere.

"I think I'm in love," Jungkook sighed, unable to keep himself from poking his nose despite the way it made him wince. It was sort of like wiggling a loose tooth, except in this case it was a reminder of the beautiful moment he met his future wife. He was rewarded by his friend's very unimpressed expression, only mildly obscured by the giant red nose on his face.

"With someone who physically assaulted you?" asked Taehyung, crossing his arms and somehow going from creepy clown to bitchy clown. It was amazing what his friend could do with one tilt of his hips.

"I mean I got closer than I was supposed to because she was cute. And then she punched me."

Jungkook touched his nose again with a dreamy sigh as he gazed in the direction you had run off to. What were you doing now? Were you thinking about him as much as he was thinking about you?

"My head rang like a bell. Like wedding bells. Our wedding bells."

Taehyung closed his eyes in resignation, knowing his friend was a goner and probably already picturing your babies sparring with each other. If he was talking about the same girl he scared away from her group earlier, she definitely was pretty enough for any of them to get a little closer than strictly necessary for scaring. He opened them again and scanned his friend just to make sure he was really fine.

"Wait, do you have a boner?"

"She had perfect form, okay?!"

~~~~~

"I fucking hate you," you groaned as you sank down onto the picnic table bench next to Mijin. After what had to have been at least half an hour (the corn maze couldn't even possibly have been that big) of what felt like constant scary clowns and zombies and evil butchers popping out at you, you had finally found the exit. And of course your friends had already escaped and were sitting and eating donuts and drinking hot cider like the assholes they were.

"Yo, what took you?" she asked unsympathetically with a mouth full of cinnamon, powdered sugar, and deep fried dough. "After that clown, no one else showed up. We got done like twenty minutes ago."

"What the hell?" you whined, unceremoniously grabbing your friend's cider and downing it, wishing it had something stronger so you could forget this evening had ever happened. It definitely wasn't because you needed the warmth - you were sweating like a pig from fear and more physical exertion than you had performed in the last month combined. Were you just cursed? Wait no, you did not want your thoughts to go there right after that horrible experience.

And because it just wouldn't quit, Mijin poked your shoulder and pointed to where a familiar looking zombie was strolling towards you in a decidedly un-shambly fashion.

"[Y/n]!" chirped the zombie - Jungkook, was it? - as he waved cheerfully in your direction. Meej raised her eyebrows as you looked behind you and then pointed to yourself in confusion, as if he could have been referring to anyone else. Suspicion began to bloom in your mind.

"Jungkook," you greeted as he came closer, ignoring the curious eyes of your friends. "Do you happen to know the reason I was constantly assaulted by horrifying creatures while my friends here made it through untouched?"

The boy grinned at you, and now that you weren't overcome with hysteria and guilt, you realized that even under his make up his eyes were large and mesmerizing. Wait no, he was a weirdo, why were you noticing how pretty his eyes were?

"Yep," he said unashamedly, his smile widening at your inadvertent pout. "I asked my friends to help."

"I said I was sorry!" you cried indignantly, crossing your arms and scowling at the reason your lifespan had been shortened by ten years. "You didn't have to torture me!"

His eyes widened in surprise, making them impossibly bigger and - dare you say it - cute.

"It wasn't for that!" he protested. "It was so I could catch you after my shift!"

"I - what?" you asked stupidly, now completely bewildered. Jungkook suddenly looked down at his feet, and his voice took on a more hesitant tone.

"I was gonna get a late dinner now, um, will you come?"

Mijin's eyes were now burning a hole into the side of your head as you resolutely pretended neither she nor the rest of your friends existed. What the fuck was going on with your life today? First you got tricked into a haunted maze and now the fucking zombie you punched was asking you on a date?

"Um, it's past midnight," you mumbled, unable to come up with any other response as your brain continued to buffer. The hopeful gleam in those large, innocent eyes did nothing to help. Neither did his adorably bashful expression.

"Okay, early breakfast. On me. Please?" he asked, voice taking on a begging quality. His lip began to jut out in a pout and even under the horrible zombie make up you noticed it was full and plump. "It's the least you can do after you punched me in the face."

At that your friends began to snicker and Meej outright snorted. You felt your own face begin to burn despite the nip in the air. And then your so-called best friend decided to punish you for ignoring her.

"Yeah, she's free," she offered, making you swivel and gape at her second betrayal of the evening. Never one to do anything by halves, she then proceeded to hammer the final nails into the coffin of your friendship. "And she has no plans tomorrow that would make her have to go home early."

"Great!" said Jungkook happily as he and Mijin ignored your indignant splutters. "Just let me get cleaned up and I'll be back here in fifteen."

He jogged away with annoyingly bouncy steps and you whirled on your Brutus.

"What the fuck?" you hissed, ire rising at the smirk on her lips. You opened your mouth to screech at her and she shoved a donut hole into it.

"He's cute," she said conversationally as you chewed hard, determined to give her a piece of your mind. You swallowed, took a deep breath to prepare for your rant, and she stuffed another one past your lips.

"There, there," she said, patting your head as you glared at her, cheeks full of delicious pastry.

"He seems like a nice guy, but keep your location sharing on and if you don't text me every half hour I'll come find you okay?" she said soothingly, patting your bulging cheek. "If it really was something nefarious he'd probably pick a girl who couldn't fight back."

You pouted and slouched in your seat as your other frienemies snickered. Fuck those NPCs. You didn't know them. They weren't even important enough to have names in this universe.

You sulked while you waited for your mysterious zombie boy. Why were you being forced on a sketchy late night date with a total stranger who liked getting punched? Meej continued to feed you donut holes, petting your head and back as if you were a baby. Unfortunately, it was actually working to chill you out because you were an easy bitch.

"Ready?"

You glanced up at the familiar voice, gasped, and immediately began choking on the powdered sugar that flew into your windpipe. Jungkook had removed the zombie make up and clothes, and while he had seemed cute, you hadn't been expecting him to be a total fucking smoke show even with a swollen nose. Fuck location sharing, you would let this guy dismember you and thank him for it. From the way Meej chortled as she handed you more cider, she knew exactly where your mind was at.

"I-uh-yeah," you said suavely, getting up and tripping over the bench as you tried to get out. He moved easily to grab you before you could land on your ass and you felt yourself pressed against a very firm, muscular body.

"You okay?"

Oh no, he was even cuter up close. You gulped and nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from his large, sparkling eyes or his wide smile. His two front teeth were ever-so-slightly larger than normal, making him look like an adorably handsome bunny. Who happened to be ripped beyond belief.

A flash went off and the two of you turned to see Mijin, who was pointing her phone at the two of you. You quickly stepped away from him, wondering if your face was as red as it felt.

"Don't mind me," she said innocently, tucking it back into her bag. "Just getting a picture so if [y/n] goes missing I can give the police a lead. Jungkook, right?"

You glared at her, knowing that while it was kind of true, she probably also wanted to memorialize the stupidly dazed expression on your face. The upside was that the muscle bunny wasn't offended, which gave him points toward not being a Gen-Z Ted Bundy.

"Jeon Jungkook," he told your friend with a grin and a nod. "If that helps."

"Good boy," Meej said approvingly. "Have fun, kids."

She gave your butt a goading slap as you turned to follow Jungkook away, and when you turned to yell at her she somehow managed to throw another donut hole right into your mouth. Maybe she really was a witch.

~~~~~

As you walked towards the parking lot, it hit you that you were about to get into the car of a complete stranger. Granted he was a very attractive, nice-seeming stranger who looked to be about your age and whose full name you now knew, but still. This was what all those old stranger danger videos warned you about. The darkness of the night and the rustling of the leaves did nothing to lessen the creepiness of the atmosphere. As if coming to the same realization, Jungkook turned to you with an uncertain expression on his face.

"There's a Denny's about five minutes away from here, it's the only place still open for food," he explained, pointing his finger somewhere to the east. "You can tell your friend that's where we'll be."

"Denny's," you mused, shooting off a quick text to Meej. "You're a real romantic, Jeon Jungkook."

That bunny-like smile appeared back on his face and you felt your heart give a hop in response as the two of you began walking again. You couldn't tell if it was just because of him or also because you had eaten too many donuts.

"I also make some mean ramyun, but hopefully I'll get to show you another time."

"Hm, that's very presumptuous of you considering you're taking me to a Denny's after midnight," you teased. "Are you just that charming?"

"I hope so," he told you earnestly, the blush that rose on his cheeks doing more to endear him to you than anything else so far. You reached his car, and he gallantly - and cutely - scrambled to open the passenger door for you. When you smiled at him in thanks, he froze and stood at the door, gaping at you like a deer in the headlights.

"Uh… is everything okay?" you asked uncertainly, grin slipping off your face. Jungkook turned bright red and swallowed, shaking his head.

"Y-you're just even prettier when you smile," he stammered, before closing the door and hurrying to the driver's side. You barely heard the slam over the way your blood began to pound in your ears, and a small voice inside of you screamed that this was all way too good to be true and you were about to get murked. Another voice, one that sounded suspiciously like Meej, told it to shut the fuck up. Mijin had the unfortunate (or fortunate) habit of always being right, so you decided to listen to that one instead.

Jungkook still seemed flustered as he got into the drivers' side, which was absolutely fucking precious. It relaxed you further despite the awkward silence that descended as the two of you tried to figure out what to talk about.

"So… was that clown also your friend?" you finally asked, remembering the recurring horror that had kept you lost in the maze for so long. Jungkook grinned and nodded, though he quickly turned his eyes back to the road.

"Yep, that's Taehyung. Honestly I think his costume is the scariest," he confirmed, and you shuddered in acknowledgement.

"Yeah, zombies and werewolves and stuff aren't real. But clowns are, that makes it worse."

"EXACTLY! See, you get it!"

The awkwardness between you dissipated as you began to banter back and forth more comfortably, and you found yourself laughing outright more often than not. As it turned out, not only was this zombie boy a confusing mixture of sexy and adorable, but he was also funny and kind. You had a feeling you weren't going to come out of this night alive, but for entirely different reasons than you had initially expected.

The easy conversation continued through your late dinner/early breakfast, and you found yourself enjoying talking to him even more than the greasy eggs and bacon on your plate. He was just so sweet and cute, it was impossible not to like him.

As the food dwindled, you found that you didn't actually want this night to end. You realized you were growing increasingly enamored with this strange boy, but you weren't sure if he felt similarly after actually having a conversation with you.

Well, you were a strong(ish), independent(ish), woman who knew what she wanted, right? You were a twenty-first century girl! All you had to do was be brave and be the one to ask for his number!

You took one look at Jungkook's handsome face and sparkling eyes and decided no, you were not a brave, strong, independent woman. He was way too attractive for you to be able to grab life by the proverbial ovaries and just straight up ask him out. You let out an internal sigh at your own cowardice, then eyed the table where his right hand was idly drumming the edge of the forgotten menu. Do it, bitch, whispered the Mijin-voice in your brain.

Steeling yourself, you set your own hand on the table and crept it forward until it brushed against his own. He stopped talking mid-sentence and froze, then pulled his hand back as if he'd been scalded. His eyes were so wide it would have been comical if your heart wasn't currently sinking in your chest.

"Uh, I have to pee," he stammered, before bolting upright and almost running to the bathroom. You sat there, stunned and humiliated. That had actually been worse than just hearing no. What should you do now? Stay here and be awkward? Call Mijin and have her come get you?

Before you could fully make a decision, a beautiful guy who was decidedly not Jungkook plopped down into his seat. Another equally gorgeous boy sat in the empty space next to you, giving you a bright smile that squished his eyes into adorable crescents.

"Hi! I'm Jimin!"

~~~~~

"Why are we doing this again?" complained Jimin from the passengers' seat as Taehyung followed the car in front of them. "I'm tired, I want to go home."

"Because," said his best friend, "we all put enough effort into Kookie getting this date and he better not fuck it up."

"Wait, with that girl you told me to scare away from the exits?" he asked, suddenly interested. He sat up a little straighter in his seat. "She was super cute."

"Yep, and now I'm invested and I want to see how it goes."

They both sighed a little when they followed Jungkook's car into the Denny's parking lot. It made sense, it wasn't like there was anything else open or around, but still. Denny's? Taehyung parked far enough away that it was unlikely they'd be noticed, but when Jimin went to follow you and Jungkook inside, he tugged him over to the windows instead.

"Seriously?" he asked incredulously, staring at his friend in disbelief. "This is literally the creepiest thing we could be doing, and that's saying a lot considering where we work."

"I'm not hungry," Taehyung replied with a shrug, crouching behind a bush to hide his form from the parking lot. Jimin rolled his eyes but followed suit. When Tae got like this, it was usually better to just humor him.

"Man, she's really pretty," said Jimin, trying not to think about the fact that he was currently admiring a girl through the window of a Denny's while hiding in a bush. Surprisingly, the date actually seemed to be going well - you were laughing, Kookie was laughing, and you were smiling more often than not.

Honestly it was beginning to get boring and Jimin was feeling more and more like a stalker. And watching the two of you eat an absurd amount of eggs and bacon was starting to make his stomach grumble. He was cold, tired, hungry, and it didn't seem like things were going to get interesting any time soon.

"Can we go yet? I think he's doing fine."

As if on cue they watched as you tried to touch his hand and, in true Jungkookie fashion, their friend panicked and ran away. Taehyung gave him a pointed 'I-told-you-so' look, which Jimin ignored as he got up and dusted himself off before heading towards the restaurant doors. If Jungkook was too scared to properly flirt with a pretty girl, then his hyungs would just have to show him how it was done.

~~~~~

"Hi! I'm Jimin!"

"Uh, I'm [y/n]," you replied automatically, before cursing yourself for giving your name to a stranger for the second time that night. Should you be worried? Weird things definitely tended to happen when you sat alone at a Denny's after midnight, but they usually involved alcoholics or tweakers, not beautiful mystery men. Well, maybe they were alcoholics or druggies and it just hadn't destroyed their systems yet.

Seeing the trepidation on your face, the other boy gave you a reassuring grin that simultaneously relaxed you and made your face warm.

"I'm Taehyung. We work at the maze too. We - er - we came here to get some food, and recognized you."

A lightbulb went off in your head when he said his name and you gaped in shock. What the fuck? The creepy murder-clown was secretly also a hot guy? Was everyone that worked at that maze secretly a supermodel? They both laughed and you realized you had said the last bit aloud.

"That's really sweet of you," said Jimin, scooting a little closer to you with a twinkle in his eye. Despite the fact that he had probably been outside scaring people all night, he still smelled quite nice. "I'm not aware of that being a prerequisite, but if it is you'd definitely be a shoo-in."

You felt your face flush bright red at the compliment, but luckily you didn't need to respond because Jungkook chose that moment to return. He looked incredibly pissed, which was honestly pretty hot. And confusing. If he wasn't interested anymore, shouldn't he be relieved to have a distraction?

"What are you guys doing here?" he asked flatly, crossing his arms as he eyed the way Jimin was crowding your space. You were clearly flustered, and the way Jimin was looking at you made his jaw clench in irritation.

"We just wanted to get some food," said Jimin innocently. He smiled at you again and inched even closer, pressing his muscular thigh against yours. "But now that I'm here, I think I'm more in the mood for dessert."

Suddenly his warmth was gone and you realized that Jungkook had picked his friend up by his armpits like a dog. The effortless way he lifted him had you eyeing the stretch of his jacket across his biceps, and you recalled just how firm his body had been earlier. He deposited Jimin next to Taehyung with an uncaring thwump and sat next to you, right where his friend had been. His thigh was just as firm as Jimin's, and you felt your chest go fluttery at his proximity.

"Can I get you guys anything else?"

The tired looking waitress sighed when she saw the two new additions to the table, and while they ordered, Jungkook turned to you with that bright smile.

"Did you want anything?" he asked softly, leaning in closer so you could hear him. You were incredibly confused. First just a brush of your hand was enough to send him fleeing, but now he was sitting in your space and looking at you like you were the only person in the room. Maybe he really did have to pee that badly and you had bad timing? Either way, you wanted to prolong this time with him.

"Um, I could go for a milkshake," you replied, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and trying not to stare at how close his lips were to your own. "I don't know if I can drink a whole one though."

"We can split one!"

Jimin's voice broke through the small bubble that had enveloped you and Jungkook, and you looked across the table to see a cherubic smile on his face. You didn't know him well enough to know that this was actually his shit-eating grin, and you also didn't see the knives Jungkook was currently hurling out of his eyes.

"No way, she's gonna share one with me," he protested with an annoyed huff, before turning to you again and looking uncertain. "I mean, only if you want to."

Fuck, this boy was way too cute. You were getting an enjoyable whiplash from the way he switched between being possessive and shy. You nodded, unable (and unwilling) to resist the hope glimmering in his eyes. You gave your order to the waitress, who had started tapping her foot impatiently - not that you could blame her - and brought your attention back to the table.

"So you really punched our Jungkookie in the nose?" Taehyung asked, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. The full force of his attention amplified your embarrassment and you covered your face with your hands.

"Wait, what?" chortled Jimin, reaching across the table to tousle Jungkook's hair. The former zombie scowled and flicked his friend in the forehead, and the two began to stage an odd over-the-table battle. You slumped further in your seat.

"Your hand looks bruised, let me see."

Warm, gentle fingers pried your own off your face as Taehyung pulled your hand closer to inspect your knuckles. You fought down the urge to shiver as he brushed his thumb across your skin, and the small smile he gave you - more of a smirk, really - made your cheeks heat up.

"He's hard-headed for sure, but it doesn't look too bad," he said with an unfairly attractive arch of his brows. The hint of a smolder in his dark eyes made the gesture seem more suggestive than it should have, and you swallowed hard, unable to look away. "Want me to kiss it better?"

All of a sudden, your hand was back at your side, but now enclosed in another warm grip. You looked at Jungkook in surprise, though you couldn't say you weren't pleased at his attention. He laced his fingers through yours, and you marveled at how perfectly your hand fit into his.

"Leave her alone, hyung," the boy said with a glare, rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek. You hadn't prepared for how hot that looked, or what it did to your insides, and your cavewoman brain short-circuited at the action.

"Are you going to kiss it better then?"

Oh fuck, you had said that out loud. You watched the glare evaporate off his face as he whipped his head to stare at you, then your joined hands. You could almost see steam coming out of his ears as his brain buffered, and your insecurity began to re-establish itself. Until he pulled your hand up to his face and brushed his full, soft lips against your skin, making you shiver.

Your own lips parted slightly in surprise as you stared at him, fully aware that your heart was pounding and your skin was tingling. His own dark eyes looked back at you, and the intensity in his gaze made you wonder if perhaps he wasn't so innocent after all.

"Is that better?" he murmured against your skin. You nodded, momentarily mute, and his happy smile took your breath away. In a burst of courage, you leaned forward and planted a soft peck on his nose.

"Just returning the favor," you said with a shy grin, ignoring the "ohhhhhhh nice one" from Taehyung. The dazed look on Jungkook's face was definitely worth it.

"You know, I think I cut myself shaving this - "

"Shut the fuck up hyung, you grow like five hairs."

Jimin's offended expression made you laugh, and some of the embarrassment you felt at the two other boys witnessing your awkward fumbles with Jungkook dissipated. His grip on your hand tightened as if taking ownership, which set your silly, weak heart aflutter. You relaxed a little further once Jimin's food arrived and he focused his attention more on eating than on sending you flirtatious glances. Until the waitress brought your milkshake.

"What flavor did you get?" asked Taehyung interestedly, eyeing the tall glass with poorly concealed mischief.

"Um… cookies and cream…?" you ventured with a frown, considering the coloring made it pretty obvious. Taehyung's cheshire grin widened, and from the corner of your eye you saw Jungkook's ears turn pink.

"Oh, do you like cookies?" asked Jimin, having been lured away from his pancakes by the promise of being able to tease his friend. You glanced between the duo, feeling like you were missing something.

"Uh… doesn't everyone?" you asked. Jimin chortled in glee at your response and you spared a peek at Jungkook, who looked resigned and annoyed.

"Well our Jungkookie here is the sweetest of all, wouldn't you say?" said Taehyung with a shit-eating grin. "And his cream-"

He was cut off by a stream of milkshake hitting him in the face. Jungkook glared at him from beside you, straw to his lips and pointed straight at his friend. You and Jimin burst out laughing at the shocked expression on Taehyung's face, and you couldn't help but want to rib him back for how much he had been teasing Jungkook all night.

"Well tell me," you drawled, "how does his cream taste?"

Jungkook choked from beside you, and Jimin laughed so hard he fell sideways into his friend's lap. Taehyung just grinned and wiped some with his index finger, then held it out to you.

"Why don't you see for yourself?" he countered, recovering from his surprise impressively quickly. Your jaw dropped in surprise, and as if he took it as an invitation, he brought his finger closer.

Only for Jungkook to lean forward and lick it clean instead. Which was not hot. Definitely not.

"Thanks, hyung," the boy said with zero expression on his face while Jimin gasped for air. You were actually starting to get concerned for his lungs. "The ice cream was good, tasted like there was some bullshit mixed with it though."

"Maybe Taehyung should take his head out of his ass," you said without thinking, then blushed when you realized you had acted as if you were with Meej and the rest of your friends. They were just so goofy that you had gotten too comfortable, too fast. You needn't have worried though, because Jimin had fallen to the questionably clean floor under the table and Jungkook was staring at you with an even dopier grin than when you had punched him.

"You're amazing," he breathed, making you blush even harder. To avoid having to respond, you took a large slurp of your milkshake, then sighed in contentment.

"Kookie, you invited her to the Halloween party already, right?" asked Taehyung, eyes amused. He clearly wasn't offended by your remark, and that helped you relax again. Especially because Jungkook took that sparkling gaze off of you to scowl at his hyung. His attention was making you feel too many things.

"I was going to, before you showed up," he complained, and you fought down the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth at how cute he sounded.

"Oh please, you ditched a pretty girl alone at a Denny's after midnight before we showed up," retorted Jimin, who had finally recovered and was running his hand through his hair to fix it. You couldn't help but giggle at the way Jungkook's plump lower lip began to jut out in a pout, and you squeezed his hand in reassurance.

"So what's this about a party?" you asked him, chest tingling at the way he immediately perked up and turned back to you. His eyes were so large and bright that you were left momentarily breathless.

"My roommate and I are having a Halloween party this weekend," he explained, looking adorably hopeful. "Um, if you're free, would you want to come? You're welcome to bring some friends if you want."

"If you give me your number, I can - OW!"

You suppressed another giggle as Jimin glared at Jungkook, who had not-so-subtly kicked him under the table.

"I'd love to," you replied, ignoring the two older boys. Jungkook's face lit up brighter than the moon outside, and you unlocked your phone and handed it over to him so he could enter his contact information.

He pouted a little when you did deign to get Jimin's and Taehyung's numbers as well, though he snickered when he saw that you named them TweedleJim and Taedledum. They did tone down their aggressive flirting - slightly - but by the time everyone had finished eating and paying, you wondered how purple the older boys' shins were going to be tomorrow. There had been a lot of kicking from your irritated date, and he had decidedly muscular thighs and calves.

"It was great meeting you," said Jimin as the four of you left the restaurant. The mischievous cast had returned to his face, and he pulled you into a hug that lasted far longer than necessary and only ended when Jungkook shoved him away. Taehyung didn't hug you, but instead took your hand and pressed his lips on your knuckles right where Jungkook had.

"Can't wait to see you this weekend," he said with a wink and throaty chuckle as the youngest ripped your hand away. He stomped towards his car, towing you behind him, and you gave a half-hearted wave to the two monkeys sporting identical grins behind you. You had to half-jog to keep from falling over, but the way Jungkook's cheeks were puffed out ever so slightly was too cute to be annoyed with.

Despite his irritation, he still opened your door for you, and your insides melted further. When he entered the driver's side, you took a moment to admire his pouting profile as he started the car. Then you grabbed his right hand, tracing the skin of his knuckles with your thumb.

"Jungkook, you know I think I like you a lot, right?" you asked, smiling at him. It was a little embarrassing to say aloud, but he seemed like he needed the reassurance after being teased by his shameless friends all night. His large eyes widened in surprise and a slow smile began to consume his face.

"Yeah?" he breathed, eyes shining as he looked at you. You noticed he had a cute mole under his lower lip.

"Yeah," you confirmed softly, gazing back at him and feeling your cheeks warm. You weren't sure who moved first, but then his soft lips were pressed against your own. The kiss was sweet, sweeter than the vanilla still lingering on his lips, and you sighed in contentment as you tangled your fingers in his baggy shirt to bring him closer. He complied, letting his own hands cradle your cheeks gently.

Then twin thuds sounded from either side of you, and you broke away to see Jimin and Taehyung grinning from opposite windows. You screamed in horror and clung to Jungkook before realizing who the fucking idiots staring at you were, and Jungkook swore under his breath.

"I'm going to murder them," he hissed as you laughed weakly and pressed a hand to your pounding chest. It had gone from butterflies to straight up heart attack far too quickly for your preference, and you whole-heartedly supported his statement.

"I'll help," you offered with a scowl as the two idiots gave you cheeky waves and scampered off to a different car. "Do you have an extra shovel?"

"Oh, I couldn't let you do physical labor like that on our first date," Jungkook replied innocently and you smiled in spite of yourself.

"But Denny's and getting harassed by your friends is fine?" you countered, though you placed a chaste peck on his cheek to show you weren't actually bothered. Despite the fact that you had literally just kissed, his cheeks flushed.

"We'll do something better next time," he promised, and your heart fluttered at the casual way he said it. Still, you couldn't help but give him a little shit.

"What makes you think there'll be a next time?" He whirled to look at you, eyes wide, and you began to giggle.

"That wasn't nice," he complained, that adorable pout making its way onto his face again.

"I'm sorry, what can I do to make up for it?" you teased, eyes flicking back down to his lips. He grinned and leaned forward, but a loud honk from what was presumably Taehyung's car startled both of you again.

"Let's get you home," he groaned, leaning back in his car. You laughed and took his hand, twining your fingers with his as he drove out of the parking lot.

"I mean, I doubt they'd follow us all the way to my place…" you said, brushing his hand with your thumb. Jungkook drove a little faster.

~~~~~

Sinker

"You think I should've put a shirt on under this?" you fretted as the Uber driver pulled into the parking lot of a decently sized apartment complex. Mijin rolled her eyes as she adjusted the halo atop her cow onesie, which was the exact opposite of yours in terms of being revealing.

"You're the one trying to seduce a guy who's clearly already gone for you," she deadpanned, making you flush.

"We just met a week ago! How would you know?" you protested, checking the tape keeping your robe semi-decently over your chest for the hundredth time since you'd entered the car.

"I've read your texts, they're disgusting," she said fondly. "He texts you good morning and good night every single day with hearts and everything, it's pathetic."

"I think it's cute," you said defensively, making her laugh and ruffle your hair.

"That's because you're just as whipped as he is."

"Be nice to me," you warned. "Or else we can go back and you won't get to meet any of his hot friends."

"Bitch I'm the one who agreed to come in case this is secretly an enclave of hot serial killers."

"Er, not to interrupt, but is this the right apartment?"

You both looked at the Uber driver, who you had completely forgotten about, then at the building outside.

"Yep, thanks! Sorry about that," you confirmed, opening the door and hopping outside. You shivered in the cold and mentally cursed yourself for going the hot girl route instead of the sensible funny costume route. Then again, you had goals for tonight that hopefully involved a cute ex-zombie between your legs.

As soon as Meej got out of the car, you nodded to the Uber and scurried up the stairs to the proper apartment. Even without knowing the apartment number you could've guessed which unit was the right one from the music pulsing in the air.

You opened the door cautiously, not really knowing what to expect, and a wave of warm air and bass blasted out at you. There was a decent amount of people in the room, and you stepped inside with Meej in tow.

"So where's your man?" she asked, trying to scan over the sea of heads. You shrugged, also looking around to see if you could find him.

"You made it!"

You turned to see twin gorgeous boys wearing togas and wreaths, and smiled despite knowing they were probably up to something already. Mijin outright ogled, and you couldn't really blame her.

Jimin was a vision in white, with a golden belt bearing a sun motif and a laurel crown. Combined with his smooth, pale skin, he nearly glowed. Taehyung wore a green toga, with silver moon adornments and a small toy bow-and-arrow. It played wonderfully with his tanned complexion, and you stared for a moment despite being preoccupied looking for Jungkook. They were already gorgeous before, but in their costumes they truly personified the Greek gods they were dressed as.

"Hey guys," you greeted, but before you could introduce them to Meej they grabbed both of you and all but dragged you further into the house. You sighed internally. It appeared that their antics were already in motion.

~~~~~

"Where is she?" Jungkook complained from his seat on the couch as he pouted into his plastic cup. He had been daydreaming about seeing you again since pretty much the second he had dropped you off that fateful night. The two of you had made out for an inordinately long amount of time in your parking lot, and he had driven away with a happy heart and a raging boner.

Between that right hook, first date, and the constant texts you'd been exchanging throughout the week, it was safe to say he was completely enamored. Not only were you scrappy, but you were gorgeous, funny, and nice, and talking to you just felt right. And amazingly, you seemed to feel the same way. So where were you? You said you couldn't wait to see him, so why weren't you here yet?

Jimin chortled at his younger friend's expression, patting his head like a child. Which he definitely looked like considering he was sagging in his seat in a cookie monster onesie.

"She'll be here," Taehyung assured him with a grin. "If not for you, then for me."

Before Jungkook could respond to his obnoxious friend, a slightly slurred, high-pitched voice came from his side and he winced.

"Jungkookieeee!"

"Uh, hi Dina," he said with a polite smile at the girl dressed as a slutty cookie. So this was why she had pestered him to know what his costume tonight would be. He looked around for help, but of course his two friends had oh-so-mysteriously disappeared in his time of need.

The sound of the door opening drove Dina out of his mind, and his gaze shot hopefully towards the entryway. It was hard to see, but there you were with that friend who had forced you to go out with him that night. He needed to remember to thank her for that. She would probably be the maid of honor at the wedding.

Even from halfway across the room, obscured by other partygoers, you were so pretty he wanted to die. Had you somehow gotten cuter since he had last seen you? He shot up immediately, not even noticing that Dina had been trying to sit on his knee, and she was sent toppling to the floor.

"Owww," she whined despite not looking like she had hit anything. Jungkook sighed in frustration. He really did not want to deal with her right now, not when you were right there, but he wasn't an asshole.

By the time he had helped her up, made sure she was fine, and pried her clinging acrylic talons off his arm, you were nowhere to be found. With an annoyed scowl, he realized that neither were Jimin or Taehyung. His eyes narrowed. They wouldn't.

He found you in the kitchen, sipping a drink and being caged against the counter by Taehyung. Jimin was engaging your friend, who looked more amused than charmed. Your expression was decidedly patient, which soothed Jungkook's ruffled feathers somewhat despite the way his hyung was staring at you like the hunter he was dressed as. Then he got a full view of your actual costume.

He had thought he couldn't be any more attracted to you, but you had proven him wrong. You were wearing a silky boxing robe tied tightly over some criminally short shorts that revealed a very appealing amount of leg. Your knuckles were wrapped in athletic tape, and his nose and his dick twinged at the same time. You were perfect.

Jungkook would have taken more time to admire you, but Taehyung was way too close, and currently playing with the hem of your robe. Something in his brain growled mine.

Then the older boy tugged you towards him by the tie of your robe and Jungkook went on autopilot, striding forward and ripping you away from his hyung. He opened his mouth to yell at Taehyung, until he realized he was holding you and his hand was touching warm, bare skin. He looked down and you stared back, mouth open and face pink. He looked further down and realized your tie had gotten undone. Your breasts were somehow still covered, but it was completely obvious you were wearing nothing underneath. His brain short-circuited.

Jungkook stood there, frozen and gaping, for an embarrassingly long amount of time. Then your friend surreptitiously stomped on his foot, and he came back to his senses. He was not about to let his hyungs see you like this.

You gave a squeak as he scooped you into his arms, clinging to the front of his onesie in a way that he quite enjoyed as he strode wordlessly out of the kitchen. He didn't even see Dina, who he almost trampled into crumbs in his haste to get you away. He quickly made his way to his room and shut the door behind him with his foot.

"Um, Jungkook?" you asked timidly, looking up at him with wide, confused eyes. He froze again when he realized what he had done, and that your robe was still untied and revealing a tantalizing amount of skin.

"S-sorry," he stammered, trying and failing to not ogle at the expanse of skin revealed by the cascading fabric. "I just… didn't want them to see…"

Your lips began to twitch up into a smile, and you brought your arms around his neck.

"Oh?" You asked softly, voice almost a purr. The look in your eyes made his heart stutter and his dick twitch. You brought your lips to his ear, and your hot breath sent a pleasant shiver down his spine. "And why's that?"

You licked the shell of his ear, tongue warm and wet, and something in him snapped. Jungkook tossed you into his bed, and crawled over to trap you between his arms. The flash of worry that he was going too far vanished when you grabbed the front of his onesie to pull him down and crush his lips against yours.

"Because," he said as he pulled back, slightly breathless. You were a vision below him, splayed out and licking your lips as you stared up at him with hooded eyes. "You're mine."

He saw your mouth begin to curve into a smile before he was on you again, hot and hungry and demanding. Your lips slotted against his perfectly, and the whimper you gave when he sucked your lower lip between his teeth added more fuel to the heat blooming in his abdomen. You evidently felt the same, because you wrapped your legs around his waist to bring his hips against yours, making you both gasp as his erection rubbed against your clothed core. Despite the tickle of his costume, it sent arousal flooding through you.

"O-oh, Kookie," you moaned as he turned his attention to the line of your jaw, planting soft kisses and nips until he reached the juncture of your neck and shoulder. Then he began to suckle harshly, making you gasp and tangle your fingers in his hair encouragingly. If his hyungs couldn't keep their hands to themselves, he'd just have to show them who you belonged to.

His hands skated across your bare stomach, making you shiver, until they came to rest at your covered breasts. Then he sat back, looking perplexed.

"Why isn't this moving?" He complained, tugging lightly at your robe. You burst into giggles at the confusion on his face.

"It's boob tape," you explained, and laughed harder at his uncomprehending expression. "It's basically double-sided tape for clothes. Did you never wonder how girls wear drapey stuff without nip slip?"

"I just thought it was some weird boob magic," Jungkook responded sheepishly, and you dissolved into giggles again.

"You're cute," you said between chuckles, then gasped when he ground his hips down hard against you.

"Cute?" he asked darkly, making your mouth go dry. He proceeded to peel the robe off your chest - luckily the tape stayed on the fabric and not your skin - and his gaze went molten. He stared long enough for you to begin to squirm beneath him, and you brought your arms up to cover yourself. His own shot out to grab your wrists and pin them on either side of your head.

"No, let me see you," he demanded, and the pure want in his voice went straight between your legs. His eyes raked over you like hot coals, the heat in them bringing a pretty flush to your cheeks.

"God you're so beautiful," Jungkook whispered reverently before descending again to devour you. You moaned into his mouth, wrists straining half-heartedly against his grip, and he took the opportunity to part your soft lips with his tongue. He licked into your mouth in hot strokes, and your thighs tightened around his hips in an effort to bring him closer. The whine you let out as his cock rubbed you through your shorts made him even harder, and he broke away from your mouth to trail wet kisses down your jaw and your neck. This time, he went past your collarbone to suck bruises that bloomed red and purple on the skin of your chest.

"Jungkook," you moaned breathily, trying to control yourself despite how good he was making you feel. The way he was pinning you down so easily despite how shy he had acted at the beginning was doing a number on you.

He paused to give you a boyish grin at complete odds with the way he was making your pussy clench, before dipping his head to roll your pert nipple around his tongue. Then he sucked hard and you keened, arching into the warm wetness of his mouth.

"Fuck, touch me please," you begged, desperate to feel his hands on you. His eyes darkened further and that innocent grin turned wicked.

"Anything for you, baby," he promised, and the pet name turned you on even more. He released your hands to explore your soft curves, and yours immediately went to the buttons of his adorable but currently unappreciated cookie monster onesie.

You were able to make quick work of them despite the distracting way he was nipping your neck and pinching your nipples, and you forced him backwards so you could shove the upper part of his costume off his frame.

"Oh, fuck you," you groaned when you got a full blast of his glorious body. Jungkook smirked as you ogled his abs, no trace of that stumbling boy left in his dark eyes.

"I mean, if that's what you want," he teased, preening under your gaze. You wanted to roll your eyes, but they were still glued to the hard ridges of muscle on prominent display.

"Shut up and take this off," you grumbled, shoving his onesie further down his waist. "It's tickling me."

Jungkook grinned impishly at you before obeying, and when he kicked his costume to some random corner of his room you sighed in a mixture of arousal and despair at the way his muscular thighs flexed. He was just so perfect, and by the size of the bulge straining against his boxer briefs he was going to be just as perfect there too.

You grabbed him by the shoulders and yanked him back down to smash his lips against yours again, not particularly caring that this kiss was much sloppier than prior. By the way Jungkook groaned against your mouth when your tongue skimmed his, neither did he.

It was even headier now, with his toned chest pressed flush against your breasts. You ground your hips against his with a breathy whine, raking your nails lightly down his back. When you squeezed his ass - yes, it was just as firm as you'd hoped - he bucked forward, driving his cock harder against you. You briefly wondered if you were soaking him through your shorts, then decided you didn't care.

When you began to wiggle out of your shorts, shy Jungkook made his appearance again. He pulled back, eyes wide, though he couldn't stop himself from licking his lips.

"A-are you sure? I was just… kidding," he said, as if you couldn't see his dick leaking through his boxers and you weren't half naked on his bed and begging for his touch. It was cute, but this sweet Jungkook wasn't what you wanted right now. So you pouted and began to push yourself off the bed.

"Fine, then I'll go see if Taehy-oof!"

Your gamble was rewarded as you were immediately forced back onto the bed, Jungkook's hard eyes blazing above you.

"I said you're mine," he growled, giving your nipple a hard pinch. You yelped at the mixture of pain and pleasure, and felt yourself grow impossibly wetter at the edge in his tone. You threaded your hands in his hair to bring him down for a kiss, but he paused, lips hovering over yours. "You're mine, right?"

Despite the aggressiveness of his actions, there was a hint of pleading in his tone, and you couldn't help but smile as your heart fluttered.

"Only if you're mine too," you replied, making his eyes light up. Jungkook had been yours since you had delivered that knock out punch to his nose heart. He closed the distance eagerly, and you lost yourself again in the heat of his lips and tongue. When one of his hands found its way between your legs, he groaned at how damp you were even through layers of cloth.

"Yours," you murmured, rubbing against his hand shamelessly. His eyes flashed and before you could process what was happening, your shorts and underwear were ripped off and you were bare beneath him aside from the robe halfway off your shoulders. His hand went back and you moaned as his fingers dragged along your wet folds before changing course to start rubbing light circles on your clit.

"You're so sexy," Jungkook groaned against your mouth as you bucked your hips forward, chasing the friction. He pressed his middle finger into you, and the sound that you made was almost enough to make him explode then and there. You were so hot and wet and tight around him already, and if you felt this good around a finger he couldn't wait to feel you around his dick.

You licked sloppily into his mouth, rutting against his hand as he pumped his finger in and out of you and swallowed your whimpers. When he added a second finger your breath caught in your throat, nails digging into the skin of his back.

"J-Jungkook," you gasped when he began grinding the heel of his palm against your clit while rubbing his fingers against your walls. He was working you up embarrassingly quickly, and when your orgasm hit it almost took you by surprise. Your body went rigid as waves of pleasure shuddered through you, and Jungkook hissed and pressed wet kisses all over your neck, working you through your high as your walls spasmed around his fingers.

"Wow," was all you managed when you came back to reality. It was partially due to the orgasm, but mostly caused by the beauty of Jungkook's flushed face and disheveled hair hovering above you as his hungry eyes drank you in. You tugged him towards you by his hair and kissed him hard for a moment before pushing him back a little and giving him your best seductress eyes.

"Fuck me now, please," you said sweetly, in a husky voice you were surprised came from you. Jungkook's eyes somehow went even darker and he almost dove to the side of his bed to open his nightstand, retrieving a condom he ripped open in record time. You giggled a little at his eagerness. Until he kicked his boxers off. Dicks were always objectively funny looking even at the best of times. So why did his make your mouth water?

"Is there anything about you that isn't sexy?" you said in a half grumble, making him laugh as he rolled the latex over his tantalizing length. He hovered over you, one hand by your head and another on his cock as he lined himself up, and you reached up to thread your fingers through his silky hair. He smiled down at you, eyes bright. Then he rubbed his tip against your folds and you moaned, tightening your grip.

"If it makes you feel better, everything about you is sexy too," he breathed, eyes filled with a mixture of adoration and lust as his lips fell to capture yours. All you could do was gasp against his mouth as he began to press his cock past your aching folds. Despite how wet you were, it was still a slow, excruciatingly delicious stretch, and he cursed, hips stuttering against yours.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned, thrusting lightly in and out to coat himself further in your wetness. The feeling was definitely mutual, and you wrapped your legs around his waist to encourage him to go deeper. When he bottomed out, you both stilled for a moment to get your bearings, though he wasn't sure how much good it did him with you quivering beneath him and your walls hugging him so tightly.

"Please move," you finally whimpered when you couldn't take it anymore, giving a little buck of your hips that had Jungkook hissing. His lips crushed yours again as he began giving slow, measured, pumps that had you arching your chest against his hard pecs. He was glad he'd made you cum once because he didn't really think he was going to be able to last very long. Though that didn't mean he wasn't going to try again.

So when he angled his hips a certain way and you cried out and clenched around him, he maintained that position despite the way his thighs protested. He kept one hand on your waist, locking you in place, and brought his other to rub his thumb lightly against your clit.

"Oh fuuuuck," you groaned, head falling backwards Jungkook worked his magic on you. You were usually content if you could get on top and rub one out with a guy during sex, but this boy seemed determined to ruin you for anyone else and the worst part was that you wanted him to. He was hitting all the right spots and doing all the right things as if you'd been having sex for years, and between the thick drag of his cock and the attention he was giving your clit, you were hurtling towards the edge a second time.

"God, do that again," Jungkook groaned, and you hazily wondered what he was talking about, unable to think past the delicious way he was pounding into you. You didn't realize you were pulling his hair, and when the coil inside you snapped again you gave another hard tug with a desperate whine.

He fucked you through your second high, shuddering at the way your already snug walls squeezed him like a vice. The sounds he was forcing out of your throat were too much, and he felt himself starting to lose it.

"Fuck, [y/n], I'm gonna cum," he cursed, pace growing uneven even as his thrusts became harder and deeper. To his shock, panic, and disappointment, you pushed him off of you and onto his back. Then you ripped off the condom and engulfed him in the confines of your greedy mouth and he gasped, hips stuttering against you.

"Fuckfuckfuck," he choked, spilling himself down your perfect throat as you swallowed around him. Even after he was done, you kept swirling your tongue around his length as he moaned and let his head fall back against his sheets. You gave a little suck that had him whine and thrust against you despite the oversensitivity before you pulled back, looking way too innocent and cheerful for what you had just done.

"Taehyung was right, your cream's pretty good," you said with a wink, and he felt his entire neck and face go red.

"Oh my god," he complained, tackling you back down onto the bed and holding you against his chest as you giggled and wrapped your arms around him. The two of you lay there, snuggling and enjoying the post-coital haze.

"Jungkook?"

"Hm?" he asked a little sleepily, opening his eyes and blushing at the cute way you were looking up at him.

"Did you mean it?" You looked sheepish, and he woke up a little more.

"Mean what?" he asked in confusion, and you flushed, looking uncertain. He brought his hand up to stroke your cheek, trying to reassure you even if he wasn't exactly sure what he was reassuring you about.

"Um… about me being yours. And you being mine," you mumbled shyly, avoiding his eyes. He felt his heart swell at the pink rising on your face, and he couldn't keep the stupid lovestruck smile off his face.

"Of course I did," he replied, holding you tighter and smushing your face into his chest. "You're my girlfriend now, you can't escape." Your muffled laugh was music to his ears, and you hugged him back just as hard until you finally pulled away, complaining you couldn't breathe.

"Okay, boyfriend," you said, eyes sparkling happily. He was elated that he had been the one to put that expression on your face. He was less elated when you began to clamber out of bed after kissing him on the nose.

"Nooo, stay here," he pouted, then tried to pose on the bed in an enticing manner.

"I want to, I really do," you told him ruefully as you blatantly eyed his abs. "But I can't just straight up ditch Mijin when I begged her to come with me."

"Oh yes, the maid of honor," Jungkook said with a nod, mollified by how disappointed you actually sounded. You looked confused for a moment before your attention was drawn by your robe.

"Ah shit, the tape isn't sticky anymore," you grumbled as you futilely slapped the fabric against your chest. Jungkook was momentarily mesmerized by the way it made your breasts jiggle before shaking himself out of his daze.

"I'll wear it, and you can wear mine," he suggested eagerly. It wasn't quite the same as seeing you in his clothes or anything, but it was close. You shrugged in agreement, slipping off the robe - which should not have been as arousing as it was when you were already basically naked - and tossing it towards him as you padded around the room to grab your shorts and the onesie. Jungkook stared at your ass for several enjoyable seconds before going to his dresser to grab some basketball shorts.

"This is… kinda big."

He turned around and felt himself torn between laughing and melting into the floor. You had put on the cookie monster onesie, which was sized for him, and were almost drowning in it. You had rolled up both the sleeves and the legs multiple times and yet it still looked hilariously large on your smaller frame.

"You look perfect," Jungkook promised, making your face flush that pretty pink again. Though you frowned when you looked at Jungkook, who was now wearing basketball shorts and your boxing robe. "What's wrong?"

"I… don't know if I want people seeing how hot you are…" you grumbled, eyes glued to his six-pack. Jungkook's heart fluttered when he realized you were jealous, and he grinned at your adorable pout. He strode up to you, enjoying the way you licked your lips when he cupped your face.

"How do you think I felt seeing Taehyung all over you?" he demanded, making your eyes widen before he bent down to capture your lips. Feeling you melt against him was enough to rile him up all over again, but when his hands began to wander you pushed him back a little.

"Fair enough," you replied breathlessly, sounding incredibly reluctant but firm. "Let's go."

You resolutely marched to his door and pulled it open, only to run into a very irate, very drunk cookie.

"Uh…" you began awkwardly, not exactly sure what this chick was doing here.

"Jungkookie, who is she?" the cookie wailed, pointing at you with a venomous glare. You would've felt more worried had Jungkook not looked so done with his life. He came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"This is my girlfriend, [y/n]," he said, shooting her point blank with the truth. By the way she reeled backwards, it might as well have been a real bullet. Jungkook took the opportunity to usher you past her, lock his door, then take your hand and tug you to the living. You were impressed at the speed in which he had done everything, and wondered just how many quick escapes he had to make from that girl.

"Nice costume."

You turned to see Mijin, Taehyung, and Jimin smirking at the two of you. A fourth extremely beautiful man had wandered somewhere near the vicinity and brightened when he saw you. Despite the pig nose and the blanket he was wrapped up in, he was still impossibly tall and handsome and broad. This had to be the last super hot guy in Jungkook's friend group, right? It was just impossible for there to be more.

"Oh! Are you Jungkook's mystery punching girl?" he asked cheerfully, seeing you with Jungkook. You blushed at the descriptor, and Mijin chimed in before you could.

"I'm Mijin," said your friend as she shook his hand, utterly unfazed by his weirdness. Well, he was a fucking dime so you supposed you couldn't blame her. The man beamed, making his eyes sparkle.

"Yep. It was love at first fight," she said with a grin, and you rolled your eyes at the terrible pun. To your surprise, the new guy's jaw dropped and he stared at your friend in wonder. Then he elbowed Jimin away from her and held out his hand with a charming smile.

"Then it's meant to be, because me Jin!" he said proudly, pointing at his wide chest and ignoring the way Taehyung facepalmed beside him. Meej chortled, giving his costume a very obvious once-over as Jin snickered at his questionable wit.

"Are you a pig in a blanket?" she asked, clearly vibing with her very handsome, very lame suitor.

"Holy cow! You got it!" Jin said cornily, and you heard Jungkook groan at the guy's terrible joke - considering Mijin's costume was exactly that. A cow with a halo. Unlike the rest of you - including a now pouting Jimin - your friend smiled widely.

"Yeah, can you believe [y/n] told me my costume was lame?" she asked indignantly, making Jin gasp in affront.

"They tried to say the same thing about mine!" he complained in commiseration, and the two of them cast peevish looks at the rest of you. You and Jungkook made eye contact and despite the short time in which you had known each other, you knew exactly what he was thinking. What the fuck is happening?

"Uh… we're gonna get drinks…" said Jungkook slowly, backing away from the two farmyard animals. He took your hand again and the two of you fled the scene, once again almost trampling a bawling Dina.

"That's just the way the cookie crumbles," you heard Mijin remark from behind you. All you heard after that was a weird squeaking, as if someone needed to replace their windshield wipers.

"Jungkook, is it weird to say that those two together scared me more than that maze?" you whispered loudly as he handed you a beer. He shook his head and stared behind him, shuddering.

"To never being that fucking corny," he pledged, holding his own bottle out. You nodded and clinked yours against his and took a much needed gulp. Then, unable to resist, you leaned in to kiss him. It ended up lasting much longer than you had intended, and when you pulled away he had a dreamy smile on his face. "I guess it'll be nice if the best man and the maid of honor are together though."

"What?"

"Nevermind."

Jungkook distracted you with another mind-melting kiss, and by the time he released your lips, your legs were jelly. He noticed the way you were clinging to him and grinned that sweet smile at you before easily picking you up and setting your butt on the counter.

"Better?" he asked, nestling himself between his legs and tilting his head up to look at you upside-down. You giggled and leaned down to give him a peck, then stroked through his hair with your free hand. The two of you watched the party from the relatively quiet confines of the kitchen, where Meej and Jin where getting increasingly close and Jimin was now attempting to avoid the advances of a sad cookie while Taehyung laughed his ass off on the sidelines. It was odd how easily things had come together when you were the last person who would ever willingly enter a haunted corn maze.

Jungkook snuggled his head under your chin and you smiled, wrapping your arms around him and letting your hands rest on his bare sides. Who would have thought getting lured out of the house by the promise of donuts would lead to so much more? You knew Mijin would use this as an excuse to drag you out to more activities, but when Jungkook nuzzled your shoulder you found yourself more excited than chagrined. Fall might be ending, but your time with him was just beginning.

~~~~~

#bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts fluff #bts smut #bts jungkook smut #autumnleavescollab

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