Tumgik
#this is such a different au i really hope you enjoy it
sunniques · 1 day
Text
— 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 !
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
➺ PAIRING: choi seungcheol x female reader
➺ GENRE: stepdad au, smut
➺ SUMMARY: being a spoiled brat means you hate to share. you learn that your stepdad has the same affliction.
➺ CW/TW: stepcest, infidelity, age gap, reader can be picked up by seungcheol, jealousy, possessiveness, daddy kink, breeding kink, spanking, oral sex (m), pussy slaps, nipple play, unprotected sex, riding, squirting, creampies, overstimulation
➺ WC: 6.1k
NOTE: PLF MASTERLIST. don’t like, don’t read.
Tumblr media
Something Seungcheol learned about you early on is that you don’t like to share. It’s a quality he’s never liked on other people, but with you it’s different. Instead of hating that part of you, he enabled it. In fact, he enabled it so much that you always get so jealous whenever he spends any time with your mom. It doesn’t matter if it’s an insignificant amount of time, you aways let him know how much you hate it.
Honestly, he thinks it’s really fucking cute. Especially because you don’t ever try to hide your possessiveness.
You’re a spoiled brat, which means you have a habit of taking things you want regardless of the timing and circumstances. That’s why Seungcheol isn’t all that surprised when you throw yourself on him on a random afternoon even though your mom is home.
The three of you had been watching a movie like a regular family when his wife gets a call from her boss that interrupts everything. She doesn’t hesitate to get up and go to the kitchen, all too happy that work was cutting into her family time. Not that you cared. This was the sort of thing you had been hoping for.
Your mom was gone for all of two minutes when you decide to stick your hand down your stepdad’s sweats. Seungcheol holds back a groan when you eagerly start to rub his bare cock. He’s been going commando lately because he knows that you’re always ready to get your hands on his dick.
“Princess.” Seungcheol hisses, words slightly scolding. “Behave. Your mom will be back any minute.”
You know he doesn’t really care. Otherwise he would’ve actually tried to stop you from pulling his cock out of his pants. Seungcheol’s dick throbs in your hand when you give him a devious smirk. His fat tip is already oozing with precum, and you smear it up and down his throbbing organ, slowly stroking his cock just the way he likes it. He tosses his head back on the couch with a quiet groan, unable to hide how much he enjoys your touch.
“I just want to make you feel good, daddy.”
In reality, you want to show him how much better you are than your mom. The other night you heard moans coming from the master bedroom, and you had felt bitter and jealous ever since. These jealousy driven actions were only the start of a long game of teasing and revenge you had planned for your dear stepdad.
“Want you to fuck me, daddy.” You quietly moan in his ear. “I need that big cock inside me. Want you to stretch me open and stuff me full of your cum until I can’t think.”
His eyes are entirely dark as he sets them on you. Based on the heated look alone, you know he wants the exact same thing. So with a sly smirk, you lean down to take his thick cock into your mouth.
Seungcheol’s mouth drops open in pleasure when he feels your hot mouth bobbing up and down his dick. You’re eager in your movements, moaning and gagging on his cock like it’s your favorite lollipop.
“Honey!” His wife’s voice doesn’t deter you. If anything, you take him deeper into your throat. “I won’t be able to watch the rest of the movie with you and Y/N. I have to hop on an emergency conference call. I’ll be upstairs!”
Seungcheol turns his head slightly, hoping your mom doesn’t notice the sudden color he’s gotten in his cheeks. “How long will you be?”
His wife doesn’t bother looking up from her phone as she goes towards the stairs. “Maybe an hour or two. Don’t know. You guys have fun.”
She’s so oblivious that she doesn’t realize you’re no where to be seen. You smirk around Seungcheol’s cock, pussy throbbing at the fact that you’re sucking your stepdad’s cock while your mom is right there.
Seungcheol knows he’s a sick pervert. His wife is upstairs working while he’s downstairs, undressing her cute little daughter. He can’t really care though. Not when he has you sinking down on his cock. The thrilling salaciousness of it all only turns him on.
You’ve been riding been riding him within an inch of his life for a good fifteen minutes, and it’s only now that you’re starting to get close. How you two have managed to be somewhat quiet is beyond him.
“D-Daddy, fuck.” You whine, slumping forward on his strong chest. “Feels so good. I’m gonna cum.”
“I know, princess. You’re making daddy feel good too.” He says as he bucks his hips up so his cock grinds against your g-spot until you’re squealing and bouncing on his lap all over again.
He loves the noises you make for him. It drives the urge to get you to cream on his dick. “You’ve been torturing me, baby. Keeping me from this juicy cunt.”
“I was j-jealous.” You manage to slur out, hips grinding into his. “Hate when you’re with my mom. Don’t want you fucking her too.”
Seungcheol laughs meanly. His hands smooth down your sweaty back before they settle on your hips. “My little brat was jealous?” He coos, cock throbbing in delight. “Mad at daddy for helping out your poor mom? I couldn’t leave her hanging, baby. She’s almost as needy as you are.”
You’ll make him regret his words, but for now all you can do is moan and leave scratches down his chest to mark him as yours. “I don’t want to share.”
“Maybe one last time.” Your stepdad goads, loving the petulant little frown you give him.
“No!” You whine loudly, hips swiveling roughly. “You’re mine, daddy. Only mine.”
Seungcheol laughs again, abs flexing as he thrusts up into your dripping pussy. Your cunt flutters and clings to his fat cock in delight. Loud squelching and the aroma of sex permeates the living room as he fucks you deep and hard. You’re close to cumming, and your stepdad knows it.
“I am yours.” Seungcheol agrees as he starts to plant wet, open mouthed kisses on your neck. “Daddy’s cock is all yours. I just like riling you up, princess. You get so tight around me.”
“Daddy!” You mewl, satisfied that he was placating you like always. “I’m gonna cum!”
“That’s it, baby.” Seungcheol hisses, hands grabbing the fat of your ass to help you fuck your cunt down on his dick. “Cream on my cock with your tight little pussy. Fuck. You have the best hole I’ve ever fucked.”
Your stepdad has to kiss you to muffle you loud moans as you tremble and cum all over his cock. Seungcheol groans into your mouth, squeezing your ass as you move your hips faster and faster. Your gummy walls are suffocating his cock, and he can’t get enough of it. The sound of his wet balls slapping against your ass fills the room, and he briefly wonders if you two are being too loud.
“Fuck!” You moan as your eyes roll to the back of your head.
“Keep your voice down.” Seungcheol chastises as he slaps your ass, fucking his cock up into you rougher than before. “Don’t want your mom to hear us, do you, baby?
You wrap your arms around his neck and start jumping on his cock with newfound vigor. That’s the last thing on your mind, and you know it’s the same for him.
“I don’t give a fuck if she hears us.” You choke out through a filthy moan. “S-Shit. I want her to hear how good her husband fucks me.”
His thick cock throbs at your words nasty words. Seungcheol’s eyes are dark as a deep growl vibrates in his chest. He hooks his arms under your thighs and abruptly stands. You cry out as his cock slides deeper into you. His heavy balls slam into your ass as he starts to harshly thrust into you. Your stepdad’s hands go to your ass as he fucks you on his cock faster than before.
“This is what my cockhungry little brat wanted, huh?” Seungcheol grunts, as you leave a white stream of cream on the length of his cock. “Wanted me to fuck you hice and hard like a filthy whore. Don’t even care that your mom can come down any second and see how addicted you are to your stepdad’s cock.”
“Yes, daddy, yes!” You cry out wantonly as his leaking tip slams against your sweet spot. “Fuck me like the nasty slut that I am! Fuck. Want your wife to see how hard you get for me. How much better you like this tight little pussy!”
Seungcheol keeps bouncing you on his cock over and over until lewd squelching and the sound of skin slapping together is all that can be heard in the living room. At this point, neither of you care that your mom can come downstairs at any time and catch you. In fact, that risky fact is what’s turning the both of you on so much. The fact that she could walk in on Seungcheol bouncing you on his cock is driving you both closer to the edge.
“My bratty little girl just can’t get enough of this cock, hm?” Seungcheol’s deep voice is low in your ear. “So fucking desperate for daddy to fuck you full of cum, aren’t you, princess?"”
“Want it so bad, daddy.” You mewl out, your second orgasm abruptly hitting and wetting his cock even more. “Want your cum now!”
So demanding, as always. But Seungcheol loves it. He fucks his cock into you until he reaches his own climax. He groans your name as he shoots his hot load into your young, fertile pussy. The very thought of you getting pregnant only has him driving his cock deeper into you, eager to breed you.
You force your tongue into your stepdad’s mouth, moaning and whining at the overstimulation you're starting to feel. Seungcheol sits you two down, not willing to get you off his cock just yet. Apparently, you feel the same way because as soon as he leans back on the couch you start bouncing on him again.
“Goddamn, baby.”
Seungcheol can’t get over how good you feel around him, how pretty you look as your face contorts in pleasure. His fingernails dig into the flesh of your ass as you keep moving on his cock. Fuck, he really loves the way your cunt wraps around him and how you squeeze around him when his fingers begin to toy with your clit. Drunk on lust and hot sex, words spill from his mouth before he can stop them.
“Fucking shit. Need to put a baby in you.”
You’ve known about his breeding kink since the first time he fucked you, but it still drives you wild each time he growls it out so ravenously. His hips start to move, slowly taking control with a primal need to fuck you full of cum. Seungcheol’s mouth wraps around one of your hard nipples as his thrusts grow needier and rougher.
God, your pretty tits have been tempting him with the way they’ve been bouncing in his face. Your stepdad sucks and licks eagerly, his tongue flicking over the bud. He’s driving you insane, hitting every right spot expertly.
Seungcheol’s mouth pops off your nipple lewdly. “Such pretty fucking tits. Want to see them swollen and full of milk.”
His nasty words have your pussy clamping down on him until he’s groaning and growling into your neck. “Cum inside me, daddy. Fu-Fuck. Fill me with your cum and knock me up!”
That’s exactly what he does. Your stepdad keeps fucking you on the couch until it’s stained with your mixed releases. Neither of you feel guilty about it either, and as he follows you to your room, you can’t help but feel smug that he’s going to keep fucking you even while his wife is in the other room working.
Tumblr media
Being petty is something you and Seungcheol have in common. However, he never thought you’d be petty enough to flaunt your new boy toy in front of him. You do it so seamlessly that anyone might think you actually don’t know what you’re doing or how it makes him feel. It’s maddening because he can tell how much you’re enjoying pissing him off.
You bring the boy over a handful of times, always so affectionate with him when you do. Your mom seems to like him, but he can’t even pretend to. Especially not when he hears you sneak him in when you think they’re both asleep. He fucking hates it, and it’s not until the night of his anniversary that he finally gets to do something about it.
His wife has gone off to another business trip in spite of knowing that their anniversary would fall around the same time. That’s part of the reason he doesn’t feel sorry that he breaks his promise to her. Instead of flying out to meet his wife to celebrate their anniversary like he promised her weeks ago, he’s in bed with her daughter.
Seungcheol knows he’s an asshole. Not only for leaving his wife alone on such a special day, but for not letting her know he wasn’t coming until after she got all dolled up to meet him at a fancy restaurant. He doesn’t care, though. At all. Not when he has his stepdaughter’s hot little cunt wrapped around his cock. It makes it easy to ignore the incessant buzzing coming from his phone.
“Does that stupid boy fuck you this good?”
By this point, you’re too fucked out to answer—too full of cock, to be exact. Your pretty cunt is stuffed so snugly around his dick that he can feel every pull of your soft walls. Seungcheol is entranced with the way your puffy lips part for him. How they drag along his length and coat his thick cock with your sweet cream.
Your stepdad loves seeing you like this. The sight of you on your back with your nipples swollen, all puffy and glistening with remnants of spit is enough to drive him crazy. Your legs are bent back and your lashes are wet with tears. It’s the prettiest fucking thing he’s ever seen.
Seungcheol growls a bit when you don’t immediately answer. He grabs your hips and roughly pulls you to meet his movements. His harsh, deep thrusts make your body bounce and the sheets wrinkle around you. “Answer me, brat.”
“N-No, daddy.” You mewl out as he literally fucks the cum from his previous orgasm out of you.
“Of course he doesn’t.” Seungcheol’s voice is rough and mean as he snaps his hips harder. “Only I can fuck you this good. That’s why you’re always so needy for my cock.”
You nod dumbly, so lost in pleasure in the way he’s stretching you out. “Only want your cock, daddy. Fucking love it!”
“I know you do, princess.” He groans, snapping his hips against the plush flesh of your thighs.
Seungcheol’s lustful gaze is glued to where you’re sucking him in. His muscles tighten as he fucks you deeper until you’re crying out for him all over again. He usually doesn’t fuck you so brutally, but he’s overwhelmed by the need to claim you and show you exactly who you belong to that his inhibitions quickly dissipate.
Jealousy starts to simmer in his chest as he thinks about anyone else fucking you and getting to see you all vulnerable and wet. Particularly, he thinks about the pathetic kid you were flaunting in his face. Seungcheol knows he’s better than him. He can get you to cum harder than some inexperienced boy.
“Tell me you’re my good girl. I want to hear you say it. Tell me that you love me and only me.”
You obey, moaning the words to him as your cunt tightens on his fat cock.
“God, I fucking love you.” His large hands tighten on your hips as he abruptly slows his pace so he doesn’t cum again.
Seungcheol slows his thrusts into gentle grinds so he can savor the feeling of your wet pussy. He leans over your body, squishing your tits against his broad chest as he begins to suck on your neck.
“Fuck. Can’t get enough of your sweet little cunt. Need it wrapped around me all the time.” He tells you between sloppy kisses. “You’d like that wouldn’t you, princess? Always staying by my side so you can have this cock whenever you want.”
Your stepdad’s pace picks up again, and you cry out in pleasure. His leaking cock is reaching so deep inside you that you can barely think. Luckily, you manage to reply in time.
“Fuck yeah.” You moan wantonly as your stomach tightens at a partially harsh thrust of his cock. “Want to be your cockslut all the time.”
Seungcheol groans loudly, biting down on your flesh to mark you. Your stepdad’s strong hands push your thighs further apart to fuck you deeper. You mewl for him as he keeps pushing into your depths. Your juices are making a mess, dampening his abdomen and thighs, making every plunge of his cock sound more lewd than the last.
“Such a dirty little brat.” Seungcheol moans, pounding into you with ravenous desire. “Fuck. That stupid kid doesn’t know what a needy little slut you are for your stepdad’s cock. Doesn’t know that this tight pussy belongs to me.”
You nod along to his words, filthy moans mixing in with the sound of his heavy balls slapping against your skin. “It’s all yours, daddy. Only yours.”
“Damn fucking right. It’s fucking mine. You’re my girl.”
Seungcheol’s fingers squeeze into the fat of your thighs as he smashes his mouth against yours. Your stepdad is greedy and sloppy with his movents, drinking up your moans like he’s starved for them. When he pulls his messy mouth from yours, he sees the lust in your eyes. It’s dark and wild.
“He doesn’t fuck me like you do.”
Seungcheol can’t hide his smirk. He groans, pushing your legs to the apex of your flexibility so the head of his cock can push against that sensitive, spongy spot deep inside you. “Of course he can’t, baby. No one will ever be able to fuck you like I do.”
He proves his point by moving in a nearly inhuman pace, cock burying into you so viciously it makes you scream. Nails dig into the rolling muscles of his back, his skin changing color as you drag your nails down his spine. Seungcheol is amazed at how well you can take his roughness. It’s like your pussy is happy to absorb all of his savage-like jealousy.
“God, daddy. Gonna—Gonna...”
“Gonna what, princess?” Seungcheol coos with a mean smirk.
Your cunt sucks him in tighter, the prominent veins of his cock brushing against your walls deliciously. It’s like your head is swimming, and you can barely speak. Again, you manage to because it’s what your daddy wants.
“C-cum! So close, daddy! Ah, ah, ah!” Your head falls to the side as you continue to whine, stomach tightening and spasming as your stepdad barrels into you.
It’s highly likely that he’ll leave bruises on your skin from how hard his hands are wrapped around you. From the rough way he’s been with you, there’s no doubt that your cunt will throb with the memory of him for days.
“Again?” Seungcheol hums, satisfied. “Dirty little brat. Love creaming on your stepdaddy’s cock, huh?”
You nod your pretty little head against the pillow, eyes falling shut as you get lost in the pleasure he’s giving you. Seungcheol goes harder, growling at you to keep your eyes open and on him. He’s sort of crazy, and he knows there’s no way you could be thinking about that kid, but he needs to know there’s no possibility of that.
“Cum for me, princess.” It’s more of a command, and you can’t not obey.
You let out a high-pitched cry when an overwhelming orgasm consumes you. Seungcheol keeps fucking you even when he feels the first milking compression of your cunt. He has to grit his teeth and will himself not to heed the call of his own orgasm. He just wants to feel you, wants to watch you lose your fucking mind over his cock.
And you do. Liquid spurts from your pussy as your stomach clenches and unclenches rhythmically to match the trembling of your thighs. Slick gushes from your cunt and gathers around the base of his cock. Your face is hot as your lips part in a loud moan. Seungcheol moans along with you as your back arches into him. He can literally see you fall into the abyss of pleasure he threw you into.
“That’s it, princess.” He coos, unable to hold back his own orgasm at this point. Hot ropes of his cum shoot into you, painting every inch of your walls. “What a good girl—such a good fucking girl. Oh, baby...”
The last bit of his words are spoken sweetly. Your stepdad smooths his hands down your shaking thighs before he gently lets them go. They fall to the bed as he brings one of his hands to caress your soft cheek and the other to rub soothing circles on your sensitive clit. Seungcheol keeps fucking his cum deeper into you, the aftershocks of your orgasm hum against his cock and trickle down his spine.
“Goddamn. You always milk daddy’s cock like a cockhungry slut.” He licks his lips as another gush of slick pours out of you. “Shit, baby. You like it that much?”
Seungcheol is gently rocking into you, murmuring sweet things against your cheek. You’re panting gently as he fucks you through the remainder of your orgasm. His hips slowly come to a stop, and you can tell he’s trying to regain his own senses. Now that you’re slowly coming down from your high, you think that this is a perfect time to goad him like he did to you.
“You’re too tired to go again?” You hum, feigning disappointment. “I know he wouldn’t be. If this is how you planned to prove to me that your dick is the only one I should be taking, then...”
Seungcheol’s gaze darkens in half a second. He’s aware of what you’re doing, but jealousy will cloud reason every time. You just squirted all over him, and yet the naughty little smirk you’re wearing is enough to let him know you’re not satiated at all. Good, because he isn’t either.
“I’m not done with you, brat.”
His cock is throbbing inside you, aching to be pushed in deeper, but controls himself—for now. Seungcheol plans to let you come down from your high completely just so he can give you another. He’s going to let you keep breaking over and over again until you’re spent and smothered in his cum.
Smoothly, your stepdad sits back and pulls you into his lap. He keeps you lodged on his cock all while pressing tender kisses against your shoulder. You whine out in pleasure as he licks and suck on one of your sensitive nipples until you finally come to your senses.
“Fuck. You’re so strong, daddy.” You say while caressing his broad shoulders, fingertips smoothing over the well-crafted muscle.
“Of course.” He says, ego inflating. “Don’t forget that your stepdad is a real man. Not like that boy you’ve been fucking.”
You can’t think to respond because Seungcheol sinks you further on his lap, forcing you take in his cock deeper until his balls are flush against your ass. He cups your ass cheeks in each palm, lifting you up and down his cock way too easily. Your head falls into the crook of his neck as he starts to use you like his personal fucktoy. With a loud moan, you slide your hot tongue up the length of his neck, making him groan. You moan and pant into his skin as he warms up your pussy for another round.
“Don’t you forget that, sweetheart.” Seungcheol’s voice is low and possessive as his arm coils around your back. He buries his nose into your shoulder and lets his hips do the work to keep you bouncing on his cock. “No one can do it like your stepdad. I know everything you like—know how to fuck you right.”
“Oh yeah?” You hum as your cunt squeezes around him. Your hands tangle in his hair, lips pressing needy kisses to his lips. “Then prove it. Fuck me good and hard until I break.”
Your stepfather growls at the thought. Since you’re such a spoiled little brat, he’s going to give you exactly what you want.
Seungcheol lifts you off of his cock, hissing at how much his dick aches without your pussy around him. He quickly flips you onto your stomach and pulls you onto your knees with ease. He’s drunk on lust as he slaps his cockhead against your slippery folds, lining himself up against your needy hole once again.
“Fuck, Y/N.” Seungcheol groans deeply as he slides his leaking tip up and down your dripping slit. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
You turn your head to the side, cheek resting against the sheets as you catch his eyes. They’re full of scorching lust, and something that looks a lot like a teasing dare. “Don’t act like you don’t want to. We both know you’re a sick perv who wants to fuck his stepdaughter like she’s nothing more than a dirty slut.” Your smirk is tempting. “I can handle whatever you give me, daddy. Promise.”
That’s enough to crack his resolve. Seungcheol is consumed by an overwhelming need to show you how good he can ruin you. And he is. He’s going to show you that he can fuck you like no other man can.
You yelp in pleasure when his large hand comes down on your ass. His cock jumps at your response. The way your knees spread wider as your tight hole clenches right before his eyes is turning him on wildly. A fresh stream of arousal drips down your thighs, letting him know you feel the same way.
“Oh, you just fucking wait, princess.” Seungcheol growls, completely gone. “Daddy’s gonna make a fucking mess out of you.”
He repeats the motion, harder this time. A resounding smack echoes in the room followed by your high-pitched cries that make his cock leak and throb. Your plump ass cheeks are aching, but in the best way. Seungcheol can feel the smarting below his palm, but you’re shaking your ass at him to let him know you want more. That you need him to use you in the way he’s always wanted.
“Naughty little brat. Making daddy jealous on purpose.” He spits venomously, spanking you a few times in a row, groaning at how your flesh jiggles against his palms.
“Fu–Fuck!” Your voice turns into a whine as you bury your face into the sheets.
“You know I don’t fucking share.” Seungcheol thrusts forward, the hard ridge of his cock sliding between the gooey mess of your folds. “Just had to rile me up like the spoiled little slut you are.”
“S-Shit, daddy! Like it—Mmmh!—Fuck, ah!”
Seungcheol gives you another harsh smack, letting his hand rest on your ass this time so he can smooth his palm over the raw skin. The laugh he lets out is mean and condescending. “Of course you do. You like everything daddy gives you because you’re a nasty little whore.”
“Want more.” You arch your back, inviting him in. “Want you inside me!”
Seungcheol’s grin is wolfish as he takes your hips in his hands. His thumbs caress the tender flesh as he presses the head of his cock back inside your cunt. “Such a needy brat.”
Your stepdad’s moan mixes in with yours as he sinks inside of you. His movements are slow and purposeful, taking his time to feel every inch of your gummy walls as you stretch open around his dick. When he bottoms out, balls flush against your swollen clit, he closes his eyes to savor the feeling of your clamping down on him. He’s going to ruin you, make it so no boy can ever compete with him.
You cry out loudly when he starts to ram his cock into your hot cunt, his pace brutal and unforgiving. His hips smash against yours as his cockhead bruises into your most intimate, tender spot.
“Daddy!” You whine out between plunges of his cock. “Fu-Fuck! You’re so d-deep!”
Seungcheol groans when your velvety walls tighten around him. “Dirty little brat. You like daddy using you like a little cocksleave, huh?”
All you can do is nod, body bouncing with his hard, powerful thrusts. Seungcheol smirks when he realizes that you’ve become putty in his hands. His large hands spread your cheeks apart so he can watch how your cunt wraps around him with every thrust. It’s a mesmerizing sight. The way your pretty pussy is being molded by the prominent veins on his dick, thick cream building at his base and sticking to his skin.
Your pussy throbs every time his balls smack into your clit, sending pleasure racing up the slope of your back. Seungcheol feels an intense amount of ecstasy coiling in his stomach that fogs his thoughts. He gives you one last cruel smack to your ass, the loud noise echoing in his ears.
“That’s it, baby. Take daddy’s cock like the good little slut you are.” Seungcheol’s groan is guttural as he pounds into you roughly. His thrusts are brutish and fast, leaking cockhead slamming against your cervix each time he pushes in.
“Isn’t it so much better when daddy fucks you?” Seungcheol coos, loving how you’re beginning to go dumb on his cock.
His smirk is triumphant and filthy when you nod your head. You moan for him, weakly meeting his rough thrusts to get his cock deeper inside you. “That’s right, princess. I never wanna see you with any other man ever again. You understand?”
“Yes, daddy!” You moan, loving how possessive and assertive he sounds.
Your creaminess soaks his fat cock and your inner thighs. The brutal pace of his cock pushes your arousal out. It drips down to your pussy where his balls continuously slap against the soft skin.
“Good girl—my good little brat.”
Seungcheol’s sweet praise has you clenching around his dick. Your stepdad lets out a deep groan before chuckling softly. “So fucking tight. Pretty pussy can’t get enough of my cock.”
You moan loudly, deepening your arch. “Fuck, daddy. Love it when you stretch me open on your cock!”
“Yeah? Then why’d you let that boy fuck you? Tell me.” Seungcheol demands, punctuating each word with a hard thrust.
You cry out each time, the pleasure blooming into that a familiar feeling of ecstasy. All you can do is babble unintelligently. Seungcheol grunts deeply—an additive to the wet, forceful sounds of sex. Your cunt throbs with every push of his cock, wet and worn as he seeks absolution inside of you. All he can focus on is your warm cunt as he fucks into you like a beast.
“Wanted to ma-make you j-jealous.” You finally whine out.
Seungcheol finds your confession adorable, but it makes his cock throb and his blood boil all at the same time. Now, your stepdad’s mind is solely focused on stuffing you full with his cum until you break. The only measure of time is the tempo of his cock plunging into you. By now he’s lost control, primitive instincts blooming in his balls and begging to burst.
“Naughty little brat. I’m gonna show you that no one can make you cum like I can.” Seungcheol laughs meanly. His addiction to feeling you orgasm on his cock makes him sound deranged. “Shit. I want you to milk me—take all the cum from these balls.”
You cry out when he slides a hand under you, fingers immediately rubbing your throbbing clit. “Oh fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck! It’s too much, daddy!”
It’s so hard to think straight when his thick cock is pummeling into you relentlessly. You’re on the brink of your third orgasm already that it seems like they’ve all bled together.
“You’re gonna take what daddy gives you, baby. Take it all like a good little fucktoy.” Seungcheol groans when your pussy constricts around him again. “Fuck. Never letting you go after this. You’re all mine.”
Your moans are filthy and loud, loving how he’s claiming you and your cunt. He can tell how much you like it because he can feel your puffy bud drip against his fingers. Seungcheol keeps swirling his fingers in your wet mess. He’s rubbing fast circles on your swollen clit until your body is thrashing and your screams echo through the room.
“Daddy! Fuck, I’m gonna—ah!”
The suck of your cunt is euphoric, all pulsing and hot. Seungcheol groans in delight as you cover him with your release. “Yeah, that’s it, princess. Soak daddy’s cock.”
Your stepdad continues his assault on your little hole despite the sudden tightness. He loves that you continue to gush around his cock, leaving a stain of your sweet cream around the base. You’re stretched out more than you ever thought was possible, but it feels so damn good.
“I’m have to stuff this pussy full every day.” His promise is growled filthily, enjoying how your cunt spasms around his thick cock. “Otherwise you’re gonna go around begging someone else to do it.”
Somehow, his thrusts grow more powerful. You wail every time he drives in and out of you, quickly reaching another climax. This one is much different, though. It's more intense and nearly knocks the air out of you. You soak your stepdad’s cock even more now, leaving it dripping and ruining his sheets. He groans loudly, watching as you squirt all over his cock. Your eyes squeeze shut once dark spots take over your vision. Each time Seungcheol strokes your g-spot, another gush of liquid spurts from your core.
“God, you’re fucking hot, baby. Making a mess all over daddy’s cock.” Seungcheol, moans in delight, hand trading the soft rubs for harsh smacks.
The hits have you jolting, cries and moans of pleasure filling the room. Squelching sounds fill the room along with the heady smell of sex. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull as your pussy flutters around the thick cock splitting you open.
“That’s it, baby. Your pretty little pussy was made to take my cock.” Your stepdad is so far gone, feeling his own climax approaching.
His balls are heavy, and they’re aching to be emptied. Seungcheol feels his cock twitch and throb inside your warm, wet hole. Your pussy is practically begging him to fill you up with his seed, and he does exactly that. With one final shove, he bottoms out inside you and stills. The world stops like he does, a roar of your name deep from within his chest piercing the thick air of the room as he comes undone.
Seungcheol’s cum pours into you, coating your walls and taking up the space his cock hasn’t covered. Thick ropes of cum paint your pretty pussy white. His fat cock twitches and throbs, and almost feels like it’s growing inside of you. Of course, his cock is still unforgiving, now grinding into your core as pearls of his cum gush from the tight sleeve of your cunt around him.
You whimper and mewl into the sheets, loving at the feeling of being so fucking full. There’s nothing more satisfying than the feeling of his hot cum spilling out of your pussy and dripping down your thighs.
Seungcheol reluctantly pulls out of you, mesmerized with the sight of your orgasm and his cum leaking out of your tight little hole. You’ve made a mess on your mom’s favorite sheets, but he’s never liked them better than he does now.
Tender hands smooth over your ass and your trembling thighs before you’re carefully rolled onto your back. Soft lips cover yours, swallowing your needy mewls and tasting you greedily. Seungcheol presses soft pecks to your lips as one of his hands slowly caresses your spent body.
“Love you, my possessive little brat.”
You hum against his lips with a triumphant smirk, satisfied that he feels just as possessive over you.
255 notes · View notes
tsukimara · 2 days
Text
𝙷𝚎𝚛 𝙵𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚝 .ᐟ
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
➸ "Forever together" Masterlist (Important)
➸ A silent voice / Koe no katachi AU
➸ « Text » = Writing !
➸ Warning: Bullying, violence (?), ooc Scaramouche (?)
➸ Art: Cu09291 (On Twitter)
➸ 𐙚PREVIOUS ||𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒|| NEXT 𖹭
➸ Chapter 2
Tumblr media
You could feel someone's stare on your back but you decided to ignore it because after all, you were new so you knew that a lot of people would be staring at you.
Scaramouche had his chin resting on his hand, looking at your back. So you can't hear huh? Whatever, he didn't care anyway. He took his book and rolled it into a tube, moved a little closer to you and shouted into the tube.
"Wah!"
Everyone turned their eyes towards you, Scaramouche of course pretending like it wasn't him. You sat there frozen, you didn't expect this, so you turned towards him. Mr. Ragnvindr looked up from the book he was holding and frowned.
"What do you think you're doing Mr. Raiden? We are in the middle of class." — Scaramouche just looked away, crossing his arms. You were still looking at him, but you noticed that the rest of the students were focusing on the lesson again, so you did the same.
"Miss [ Last Name ], do you know the answer?" — You noticed that the girl in front of you with glasses turned towards you and showed you the question Mr. Ragnvindr asked you. You smiled at her as a thanks and started writing your answer in your notebook to show the teacher.
« Dugout shelters »
"That's correct answer. Let's give her a hand."
After class they had PE, Scaramouche was holding the ball waiting for Kazuha to put on his shoes when suddenly out of the corner of his eye he saw someone's ball flying towards him so he quickly caught it with his other hand so it wouldn't hit him. He smirked when he saw that the person who threw it at him was Heizou, who was probably complaining that he didn't hit him.
"Are you stupid?" — Heizou asked him, talking about the situation earlier in class — "I just wanted to see how bad her hearing is."
"I don't think it's nice." — Kazuha stated calmly as he finished putting on his shoes and joined them — "I think I can figure it out... You know?"
"How?" — Kazuha glanced at him with curiosity, but he also knew Scara and knew what he was like, so it started to worry him. He hoped he didn't come up with something he would regret.
And so for several days, Scaramouche checked how loud you could hear something. First he started by whispering and when he saw that you didn't react, he checked off level 1. Level 2 and 3 were already louder but you didn't react either, Mona just stared blankly at him as he made his stupid list.
"What are you looking at? Since you're already here, you can try it too." — Scaramouche said to Mona who thought for a moment but finally tried it.
"Wah!" — She shouted but not loud enough for you to hear, at this moment you were enjoying reading your favorite book not knowing what was happening behind your back. Kazuha noticed what was happening and he and Heizou approached the two.
Noticing them, he approached them and pushed Heizou slightly forward — "Do it too!" — Heizou looked at you uncertainly and shook his head causing Scaramouche to call him a chicken. He stepped a little closer to you and screamed loudly, you gripped the book tightly in your hands.
"Mr. Raiden!!"
Mr. Ragnvindr took Scaramouche to the staff room to talk to him — "I realize you've never met a person who is deaf, but you can't make fun of [ Last Name ]'s because of her disability. You hear me?" — Scaramouche just stared at the floor with a grimace.
"I just wanted to know if she really couldn't hear." — Scara explained, trying to somehow alleviate his situation — "Then go about it differently. Ask [ Last Name ] directly."
Directly? Scaramouche didn't like this idea, he didn't like talking to people he didn't know, so how was he supposed to ask you about it directly?
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
"Mona."
Mona stopped talking to Sucrose when she heard Scara calling her name. She frowned and looked at him, not knowing what this idiot wanted from her.
"Go talk to her." — Scaramouche pointed at you, sitting in your seat in the classroom, continuing to read your book, wanting to finish it.
"Hey, do you speak Japanese, [ Name ]?" — Mona asked as she leaned her hands on her desk. Sucrose just smiled slightly awkwardly — "Haha... That's not a nice way to put it."
You didn't know what the girls were talking about but you knew it was directed at you so with a small smile you walked up to them with your notebook.
« Could you please repeat that? »
You noticed Mona making a sour face and Sucrose holding her hands, looking elsewhere. You didn't know why they made such faces, so you wanted to write, asking if something happened, but before you did, Mona took your notebook, writing.
« Do you have nickname? » — A nickname? You suspected that wasn't what the girls were talking about, but you shrugged and wrote your nickname.
" [ Nickname ]? Sounds great!"
"Woah!"
"This nickname really suits her!"
Scaramouche just watched the conversation, still not knowing how to talk to you. Should he just talk to you? So what's next? Ask you if you really can't hear? Sounds stupid.
Scaramouche decided to do it when he had a chance to be alone with you, and it happened while he was going to get water because they were having PE now. He noticed you were still putting your shoes on, so he adjusted his hat and stepped a little closer to you, but not too close.
"Hey, uh... Why'd you come to this school anyway?" — You didn't answer anything, but after a while you turned your attention to him, exchanging glances with each other. He noticed you picking up your notebook from the ground.
« Did you say something? »
At this point, Scaramouche panicked a little and walked away from you as quickly as possible, not wanting to talk to you anymore. He started thinking about what an idiot he was for asking you about it. Never mind, it wasn't like he really cared, he didn't want to deal with some weirdo who couldn't hear anyway.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
"Louder, Megistus! How do you expect to get the feelings across like that?" — Mr. Ragnvindr corrected her when she pouted and sat down in her chair, offended.
"Next line: student number fifteen."
Sucrose tapped on your desk so you realized it was your turn, you grabbed your book and stood up to start reading —"Anh doh I gan't waid... noo see gramba again." — While reading, you noticed that a few people started looking at you strangely, so you stopped reading and sat back down.
"Good next. That's you Mr. Raiden."
Mona clenched her hands tightly when she heard this, why did you get praise and she didn't? She whispered a little "Are you serious?"
"Uwah, uwoh. Argle bargle." — Scaramouche mocked you by repeating your speaking style, which made Mona laugh a little but quickly hid it with her hand so as not to draw attention to herself. Some people in the class also started laughing, to which Diluc sighed and decided to take Scaramouche for another conversation in the staff room.
"I know the way [ Last Name ] speaks is unusual but that's no reason to mock her. You hear me?"
"I don't think it's unusual, She's just speaking her mother tongue-" — "Shut up and listen to what I tell you. We're having conversation about morality." — "I don't want-" — "What kind of parent raises an idiot like you?" — "Well-" — "Anyway... There are some things in this world that you just have to deal with."
Scaramouche had already given up on saying anything as he was constantly being interrupted, so he sighed heavily, showing that he didn't like it. Things you have to deal with? Funny.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
« Do you understand what Sensei just said? It would be a big help if you could tell me » — Mona read this as you handed her the notebook, she nodded and started writing down what Mr. Ragnvindr said.
Things you just have to deal with, huh?
"Write down what I'm about to say, kids. Pages 20 to 25. Page 32, chapter 2 practice section and..." — You started looking around, seeing everyone writing except you, you couldn't hear what the teacher was saying, so you looked at your notebook worriedly.
« What is everyone writing down now? »
"What? Again?" — Mona asked, already a little irritated, but eventually she took the notebook from you again and started writing.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
"...So this time I didn't hear what he said." — Mona complained as she walked with Sucrose — "I'll copy it for you later."
Things you have to deal with.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
"Then... [ Last Name]" — Diluc noticed you raised your hand to respond, so he chose you.
"He called on you." — Even though you didn't know what Sucrose said, you guessed that you had been chosen so you started writing quickly so as not to take up much of the others' time, but it didn't help much — "... Sorry, Miss Megistus. Can you tell Miss [ Last Name ] not to raise her hand until after she's written her answer?"
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
"I don't see why she has to raise her hand anyway. Doesn't she know how much time she's wasting?"
"I wish she'd get a clue."
"I know what you mean."
Things you have to deal with...
"You know..." — Scaramouche started when he noticed you changing your shoes as he was about to leave. — "At this rate, everyone's gonna get fed up with you." — But when you turned around and handed him the notebook to write down what he said, he panicked a little again — "Wh-what a pain in the butt!"
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
"Now, let's all do our best to prepare for the choir competition!" — Said the music teacher as the lesson started. Everyone lined up to get ready, Kazuha sat down in front of the piano and started playing but he suddenly stopped when he heard that you were the only one who started singing too fast. Mona covered her ears because she was standing behind you and the others looked at you strangely so you stopped. A teacher who was familiar to you but not to the rest suddenly came inside. She took you to the middle of the room and started talking to explain something.
"Hi, I'm Naganohara Yoimiya from the hearing classroom! [ Name ] is a little tone deaf because of her disability."
Mona rested her face against her hand when she heard this — "What're we gonna do about the choir competition?" — Mona mumbled — "Lose?"
"She'll do her best, just like everyone else, so won't you please let her participate in the choir with you?" — Ms. Naganohara continued — "Everyone who thinks that's a good idea, clap your hands!!" — Some people started clapping and some didn't, Mona wanted to win the choir competition so she just crossed her arms looking away when a few hairs fell on her face.
Scaramouche met you again at the exit as you were changing your shoes and when you looked at each other again, he finally managed to gather the strength and snatched the notebook from you when you wanted to give it to him calmly — "Gimme that!" — You waited patiently until he finally stopped writing.
« You're tone deaf, so just pretend like you're singing! »
As you were about to look at him, you noticed he started to walk away, so you just watched him go.
"Choir friggin' stupid anyway!" — He added but then he remembered that you couldn't hear so he started walking faster. You felt someone put their hands on your shoulders, it was Ms. Naganohara.
"Oh, don't pay any attention to him."
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
"Where's [ Last Name ]? She was in your group. Why didn't you tell her, Megistus?" — Mona stood up to explain herself — "I didn't notice..." — "No excuses! Listen, you're all at fault here." — Scaramouche just listened to what was happening and he was confused. Were these just another "Just have to deal with" things? Scaramouche looked at the ceiling to think about it a little deeper. But should we?
The time it takes to tell her things.
The delays in class.
Putting up with your bad singing.
"Let's use the three-minute afternoon homeroom period to help [ Name ] and... Learn sign language!" — Ms. Naganohara exclaimed happily, standing in front of the class with you. An hour ago, Yoimiya explained to you what she wanted to do, so you agreed, but when you noticed the faces of your classmates, you started to regret it. Some people didn't know what sign language was so Yoimiya took some chalk and wrote 'sign language'.
"As the name suggests, it is a way to communicate using 'signs,' which are made with the hands. You could say it's a way to talk with your hands!" — Scaramouche knew what sign language is but had never learned it, he was slightly curious about how to communicate with hands but decided not to volunteer.
"Then why don't we start today? [ Name ] will be our teacher for these lessons!" — Suddenly she was interrupted by Mona raising her hand.
"Ms. Naganohara! How will us learning sign language... Help [ Name ]?" — Yoimiya looked at her slightly confused but smiled and started to explain — "Huh? Just like it helps an English person if you speak English, it helps people who cannot hear if you use sign language. That's obvious, right?"
"Can't we just write in her notebook?"
"Well, did you know... It's easier for [ Name ] to communicate through sign language, and she can get her feelings across much better that way as well?"
"Well it's easier for me to communicate through writing."
"Um... Right now, we're talking about how we can all help [ Name ]... Isn't it just that you think learning sign language will be a bother, Mona? It seems to me you're finding a reason to be unhappy..." — Mona frowned, not wanting to argue with teacher anymore, so she sat back down, glaring at Ms. Naganohara.
"Mr. Ragnvindr and I will even learn with you!" — Diluc looked at her confused when he heard this — "Just a moment Ms. Naganohara. You don't know sign language?" — There was a small silence in the classroom and Yoimiya turned her attention to Diluc —"... No I don't... Which is why I thought I would start learning today..." — She said slightly awkwardly as she started scratching the back of her neck.
"You're not embarrassed making the students learn something you don't know yourself?"
There was another silence, Yoimiya was still smiling with her eyes closed but you could see the sweat dripping down her face. Some students even started laughing quietly to themselves.
"Is that... A problem?"
"I can see why Megistus is complaining. No one will go along with this. Why don't we try this again some other time, Ms. Naganohara?" — Yoimiya began to look around frantically to see if anyone would come forward, but all she saw was that the students were whispering to each other until someone finally spoke up.
"I'll learn sign language." — Said a girl with long pale salmon pink hair in a ponytail and also had beautiful light indigo eyes. Suddenly the entire class was quiet, no one was laughing and everyone was paying attention to the girl.
"I'm sorry, what's your name...?" — Yoimiya felt relieved when this girl came forward, she would be grateful to her for the rest of her life — "I'm Sangonomiya Kokomi. Instead of three minutes a day, I'll study an hour and a half a day so no one else has to." — Scaramouche almost choked on the water he drank. What's wrong with this girl?
"And I'll stay with [ Name ] all day long... During classes and between them... If helping [ Name ] is the goal then I think one person will be plenty..." — Yoimiya felt tears of emotion, she felt as if she had just met an angel.
"Mr. Ragnvindr... Isn't class 6-2 wonderful?" — Diluc was about to deny it when suddenly Yoimiya exclaimed happily and threw her hands up.
"Everyone! How about a round of applause for our brave Kokomi?!" — The entire class started clapping for Kokomi who bowed with a smile, thanking everyone. Mona grimaced, but she already had a little plan prepared.
Kokomi started learning sign language with you. She sat down with you and you started helping her study. Kokomi was the sweetest and you liked her the most out of everyone. Not only did she learn sign language with you, but you also wrote about things friends talk about. She wasn't yet perfect in sign language to be able to use it freely, but it wasn't bad either. You were finally happy that you had made such friends with someone.
"Nice job scoring those brownie points, you little suck-up." — Kokomi heard this behind her back. She tried to ignore it but it was hard when the girls, especially Mona, talked about her behind her back.
"What's she trying to show off for? Everyone knows she's stupid."
"And aren't her clothes ugly?"
"Yeah, totally!"
« What's wrong? » — Kokomi looked at your notebook. You saw that something was wrong, she was shaking slightly and her eyes were glassy as if she was about to start crying. You were about to put your hand on her shoulder when she suddenly stood up and started talking something.
"Oh! I'm sorry. I, um... I'm sorry." — Kokomi quickly left the classroom before you could do anything so you looked at your desk worriedly, worried about her. Scaramouche saw Kokomi walking nervously to the bathroom, her hands clutched at her chest.
Guess he figured out... [ Last Name ] [ Name ]'s true identity...
She isn't just an alien raised in a different culture.
She is an intruder sent to bring harm to their class.
Because of her, the choir competition was a total bust...
... Our normal routine was destroyed...
... And Kokomi stopped coming to school.
Scaramouche looked at the chalk in his hand and then at the board.
But is [ Name ] aware of this fact? ... No matter what the method... He must inform her of the truth. And from that day on, Scaramouche decided that he would bully [ Name ] for everything she caused in the classroom, for all the chaos.
"Man, this is really stupid, Scara." — Heizou stated, watching Scara write offensive things on the board with chalk.
"Looks like fun!"
"When you get in trouble, I had nothing to do with this!" — Sucrose said not wanting to get involved and Mona just rolled her eyes — "Let me help!"
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
When you entered the empty classroom to put the flowers on the windowsill, you noticed what was written on the board.
𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜
˗ˏˋ [ 𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚎 ] ˎˊ˗
𝙱𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞♡︎
𝚆𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚒𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚜𝚝 .ᐟ ּ ֶָ֢.
𝙱𝚠𝚊𝚊 𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚑
𝚆𝚑𝚢'𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞
𝙱𝙰𝚁𝙵𝙸𝙽𝙶 ??
𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 ♪
𝙻𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝙼𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚃𝚘𝚗𝚎-𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚏 .ᐟ
𝙰𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚣𝚎
𝚝𝚘 𝚞𝚜 .ᐟ.ᐟ
You stood frozen as you read this. You didn't want your class to suffer because of you. Suddenly, Sucrose entered and stood next to you, saying something — "It's awful, isn't it? I mean really..."
"Whoa! What happened to the blackboard?" — Scaramouche entered the classroom along with Kazuha, Heizou and Mona. Scara pretended like he hadn't done it.
"Boy, that is mean. Right Kazu?" — Kazuha felt a little bad doing this, but he sighed and handed Scaramouche the eraser — "Let's erase it for her." — Scaramouche wiped the board with a sponge and tossed it aside — "There. All gone."
Then everyone noticed that you started writing in your notebook and then showed it to them, smiling.
« Thank you, everyone. »
They looked at you surprised when you thanked them. Kazuha was the first to leave the classroom because he felt bad doing it and then the rest followed him, leaving you alone in the classroom.
What was wrong with you? Is that all you got? He thought you would flip out like that! Or cry... Or get pissed off...
Well now, you got his attention! He wanted to know...What will happen to you if he keeps this up.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
You felt something fall on you, out of nowhere you were covered in dust and more. You looked up and saw Scaramouche with a dustpan — "Whoa! Sorry [ Name ]! I didn't know you were standing there!"
Mr. Ragnvindr came in and asked Sucrose what happened and she told him everything, so he grabbed Scaramouche by the back of his clothes, pulled him up and led him out of the classroom.
"Say you're sorry."
"I already did! Didn't I [ Name ]?!" — Diluc watched as you cleaned up downstairs, not knowing what was happening above — "Apologize to her later."
"It's such a pain, huh?" — Mona complained as always — "Mr. Ragnvindr! Why can't [ Name ] hear, anyway?" — Sucrose asked curiously and Diluc realized that he had never asked your mother about this or you — "I'll ask her when I get a chance."
"They for sure forgot to paint the sutras on her ears." — Scaramouche mumbled but his friends heard it and started laughing. Then he smirked.
This is it.
When he see a slug, he pour salt on it. When he see a pigeon, he chase it. He throw off ant trails. And doodle on cats.
So he'll pour water on you. Chase you. Throw you off track. And doodle on your stuff.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
You were sitting in your chair as usual when suddenly you felt someone take out your hearing aid — "Hey, lemme see this for a minute."
Hearing aids were expensive and you didn't want anything to happen to them, so you quickly looked at what Mona was doing with them — "This is it, right?"
"That's a hearing aid?"
"Then she can hear after all!"
"I know, right?"
"So she doesn't need a special treatment!"
You tried to take your hearing aid back but Mona handed it to Scaramouche who told her to give it to him — "Ew! There's something on it! Sick!" — You just saw Scaramouche throw your hearing aid out the window so you quickly ran to the window trying to find it. But you couldn't. And even if you found it, it would probably be destroyed by the height from which it fell.
A few days later you had your hearing aids back on and Scaramouche noticed this so he forcibly took them out — "Oh hey, she's got another one!" — You felt a lot of pain in your ears as Scaramouche pulled them out. He pulled away from you when he heard you squeal in pain, he didn't want to go that far.
"Whoa!"
"You're gonna get in trouble."
"S-see? I told you to stop it...!"
"Uh-Oh! You went to far, Scara!" — Kazuha said as he tried to help you with the girls — "Let's go to the nurse's office." — Kazu, along with Mona and Sucrose, took you out of the classroom to go to the nurse.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
"I'm telling you! I didn't do it on purpose! I just wanted to see what she had in her ear!" — Scaramouche shouted in anger, he felt his hands squeeze, causing his fingertips to turn white. It wasn't his fault! He just wanted to see.
"I don't care why you did it. Whatever happened, it was your responsibility. All I'm saying is, don't embarrass me." — Diluc stated as he filled out some paperwork and Scaramouche stood behind him with his arms crossed — "Though well... I understand how you feel."
Scaramouche frowned at this but said nothing and then left the staff room, not wanting to listen to his teacher's remarks any longer.
"I don't have to apologize!" — Scaramouche put his hands in his pockets as he walked with Kazuha and Heizou.
"Aww. I wanted to see you say sorry." — Kazuha teased him — "Never."
When they were about to leave, they suddenly saw you approaching them with your notebook in your hands. What were you doing here? Weren't you mad at him or something?
"What do you want?" — Scaramouche said coldly, he didn't want to talk to you, especially what happened earlier. Were you waiting for him? What are you even writing?
« I'm sorry. »
Scaramouche looked at the words in surprise. You apologized? Again? Scaramouche roughly took your notebook from you, which scared you a little. For a moment you just looked at each other.
"Doesn't this piss you off?! C'mon say something!" — He shouted at you, he was fed up with you constantly apologizing and thanking. He wanted you to finally do something! You looked down, not knowing what to do next, and Scaramouche threw the notebook at your face, causing the notebook to fall to the ground.
"I don't think she gets it, Scara." — Kazuha said when you didn't say anything but suddenly you grabbed Scaramouche's hand and he looked first shocked and then disgusted. He didn't like anyone touching him, especially someone he didn't like. He saw how determined your were.
"Wha?!"
Tumblr media
➸ 𐙚PREVIOUS ||𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒|| NEXT 𖹭
➸ I'm sorry that you guys waited so long, but I'm sick so I don't even know if I wrote it correctly
➸ I'm wondering whether to write shorter chapters, but then the number of chapters will be more.
➸ My phone froze when I pasted the text 😭
➸ Anyways, have a nice day/night! (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)
(⁠つ⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)⁠つ TAGLIST — @leafyaa , @luvkvni , @sayakaskokofish , @sketcheeee , @featuredtofu , @fallenisded , @skyvella , @mimiemie
Red = I can't tag you
102 notes · View notes
slytherhys · 16 hours
Text
June in January (Because I'm in Love)
Prompt: Powers & Possibilities (but make it Witchy!) @elriel-month
A/N: So I've had this AU in my mind for a really long time and I thought it'd be perfect for this prompt. It is kinda different from how I usually write so please bear with me. I hope I managed to make it at the very least a cute read! Enjoy 🌼
TW: Swearing, Blood and Violence (mentioned because Az is an idiot!)
You can also read this story on AO3!
Tumblr media
The first time Azriel visits the witch’s cottage on the outskirts of Velaris, it’s against his will.
For starters, he has never been a fan of witches – not of their unrestrained power and certainly not of their blood-drinking habits. He is also a firm believer that, despite Mor’s insistence, Madja would’ve been perfectly able to fix him up with whatever medicine she usually gave Cassian whenever he got punched in the face.
But after a sparring session gone wrong, a vicious hit to the face that takes both him and Cassian by surprise, and a pounding headache only made worse by Cassian’s incessant bragging about knocking out the Shadowsinger for the first time in centuries, Azriel barely bats an eye when Mor presses a piece of parchment to his hand and nearly forces him to visit her dear friend.
“You can thank me later.” She says with an impish smile. “Preferably with chocolates.”
Azriel doesn’t bother asking any questions – namely, who her friend is. Or rather what . With a nasty black eye, a bruised ego and absolutely no desire to take part in any small talk with a stranger, he simply goes, dazed, and confused as to how the fuck he let himself be punched in the face by Cassian, of all people.
But when he first gets there, he has to wonder if Mor is pranking him. 
The cottage is covered in ivy, idyllic enough that one could think it actually belongs to the landscape where it stands. The garden surrounding him is an array of colours and scents, neatly organised by a logic Azriel does not pretend to understand. It looks innocent enough, all things considered.
But something in him goes still as he takes in the landscape in front of him. His eyes narrow as he watches the flowers sway softly in the cool January breeze. They’re beautiful and fragrant and would raise absolutely no suspicion on any other given day – if not for the fact they were in full bloom despite it being the middle of winter.
And then he sees it – a plain, wooden sign, the lettering a loopy cursive that speaks of lovely, gentle things. If it wasn’t for what they spell out, of course.
Elain’s Herbs & Potions
His entire body goes cold, and it speaks of his self-control that Azriel doesn’t shoot to the skies without a glance back. Because he knows –vividly remembers – all the tales of witches he grew up hearing about. Of their all-seeing eyes and their crooked smiles that promised nothing but pain and horror. The tales of their rituals and tricks not even the most cunning soldier could escape. Even Rhys, for all his powers and smarts, has never showed much interest in coming across a witch.
He's wondering why, exactly, Mor ever thought it’d be a good idea to send him here when he sees her.
The first thing he notices, oddly enough, is how small she is. After living next to Amren for most of his life, Azriel is not foolish enough to ever think that a sign of weakness, but it intrigues him all the same. Then, he’s utterly aware of how she doesn’t look anything like what he thought she’d look like. There’s no yellowed teeth, no wispy, greying hair, no soulless eyes.
Instead, all he sees is long, golden-brown hair and chocolate eyes. A yellow dress that compliments her tanned skin and red cheeks and speaks of warmer, sunnier days. She’s carrying a wicker basket overflowing with flowers, but the scent that trails after her is all her – sweet and sour, and Az feels his legs nearly giving out from under him, it’s probably completely unrelatable.
Elain , he assumes, and never a name has ever sounded so sweet.
When she looks up and spots him, she smiles, as if she was waiting for him and is pleased to see he's finally here. His heart tumbles inside his chest and he tells himself it’s because he’s in the presence of a witch – not because he’s suddenly wanting things he’s never wanted before.
She eyes him curiously and he has
to stop himself from asking her what’s on her mind, even if it suddenly feels
like the most important thing he’s ever needed to know.
“Can I help you?” She asks sweetly. Her voice echoes through him, and something inside him settles. He, however, can’t bring himself to speak, swallowing dryly as he stares and stares and stares . The woman - Elain ,
he thinks with delight - tilts her head, furrowing her brow as her chocolate
eyes trace his face. “That doesn’t look good.” She mutters and Azriel has to
remind himself of the reason he’s here in the first place.
“A fight.” He says oh-so-eloquently , and he’s surprised she doesn’t seem alarmed in
the slightest by his response. As if, perhaps, this is a normal occurrence for
her. He doesn’t know why that bothers him, but it does. 
Elain, oblivious to his nonsensical thoughts, simply nods and turns on her feet, disappearing inside her cottage without another word. Azriel remains where he is, unsure of what to do. All of a sudden, he can’t recall why he ever feared witches in the first place, why he ever believed the tales his brothers told him in the middle of the night when they were too young to know any better. 
And fuck if they knew any better. 
It takes the pretty witch less than five minutes to return, this time carrying a small basket in her hands, each one of her steps a small symphony of bottles clicking against each other until she’s standing in front of him. He looks down at the basket with intrigue and pretends that her closeness isn’t making his skin tingle. He listens carefully as she explains – a bit shyly, Azriel notices with satisfaction – how he must apply the green ointment to his bruises, at what time he must drink the periwinkle potion and how many times a day the white paste must be applied to reduce the swelling of his cheek.
When he nods in thanks and turns to leave, it’s entirely too soon and a pang echoes through his body as he desperately tries to come up with ways of prolonging his stay but comes up empty instead. His skin feels too tight, his cheeks too hot, his hands too clammy. He vaguely wonders if he’s running a fever - if maybe he can ask her for a cure for that as well. 
She walks by his side until they’re standing on the limits of her property, like maybe she doesn't want him to leave just yet either. He feels oddly mislaid; uncertain of what to do and who to be. All his convictions turn into ash and suddenly there’s only one thing he knows for sure: he’s going to have to get punched again, because there’s not a chance in this world he isn’t seeing Elain again.
“Who won?” Azriel turns to her as she asks, confusion clear on his face. Elain, not one to be put off by his silence, clarifies, “The fight.”
Azriel chuckles softly. “Not me.”
She frowns like she's not entirely happy with his response. “Well, make sure you win next time. Okay?” 
But the second time Azriel visits the witch’s cottage, just on the outskirts of Velaris, Elain greets him with a brilliant smile, not disappointed in the slightest to see him sporting a new bruise and a busted lip.
It shouldn’t surprise him how beautiful she looks, but he still is taken aback when he first sees her. Her hair is tumbling down her back in a messy braid, a too-big straw hat on her head and a small streak of dirt on her cheek that she probably isn’t aware of. Her cheeks are flushed from the sun, her blue dress reminds him of ripe blueberries, and the way it sways with her every step reminds him of flying in the summer breeze.
This time around, there’s no doubt in his mind he’s right where he should be. A familiar feeling of contentment rushes through his body, as if after weeks of waiting to see her, he can finally let himself relax and enjoy this small moment of reprieve (and really, who can blame him for wanting to get punched again?).
When Elain asks him what happened this time around, Azriel doesn’t dare tell her he made sure to pick Rhys during this week’s sparring session; that he made sure the most powerful High Lord in history punched him just in the right place so that he could bust his lip open. He doesn’t tell her about the confused look on his friend’s face as Azriel smiled maniacally when he felt the blood on his lips, nor does he tell her he tried to go for a broken nose instead so that maybe she would touch him too.
He simply smiles sheepishly at the pretty witch and utters something about distractions, making her blush under his stare as she turns around and scolds him for being so careless, all the while making a package of too many potions he doesn’t entirely need. (He still hasn’t used up all the old ones, but he doesn't tell her that either).
When Elain finally turns to him, her eyes drop to his lips and Azriel feels fire licking up at his spine. She watches him with curiosity and something else lingering in those cinnamon eyes. Amusement, perhaps?
For a brief, panicky moment, he wonders if she can see right through him. As it is, Azriel doesn’t exactly know where her power lies, and for all he knows every lie, every excuse is pointless in the presence of this witch.
Elain, however, doesn’t seem too concerned by his lies. “What is your favourite fruit?” She asks instead, eyes flickering to his as if nervous to see his reaction. 
Azriel tucks away his puzzlement and says, “Blueberries,” pretending the whole time it’s not only because of the colour of her dress. She nods once, as if the answer satisfies her, and hands him the basket.
“Be careful, okay?” She tells him in that honeyed voice and Azriel can think of nothing else to say, so he nods and leaves without a glance back.
He pretends he doesn’t miss her the entire flight back home.
The third time Azriel visits Elain’s cottage, he is greeted by a brilliant smile that sends his heart racing inside his chest. Elain, still bent over a shrub, tells him about the new batch of healing potions she’s been perfecting so he can try them, and he tries not to show just how pleased he is that she has been thinking about him, waiting for him to return. She doesn’t ask him about his bandaged shoulder and Azriel doesn’t tell her about the lecture he got from Rhys once the High Lord of the Night Court realised what was going on.
“These ones taste like blueberries.” She says, handing him three new potions he’s never seen before. He frowns slightly. “They’re your favourite.” She explains, and the expectant smile on her face makes it impossible for him to come clean. He isn’t even sure he likes blueberries, but he thanks her anyway and smiles the whole way home.
The fourth time Azriel visits Elain’s cottage, he has just returned from a mission abroad. When she hears the rustle of his wings, she turns to him with that brilliant smile of hers. To her credit, she doesn’t stop smiling when he sees the heavy expression on his face. She simply stands up, holds his hand, and leads him to a wooden bench under a willow tree behind her house.
They sit there for hours, without a word ever being spoken. He doesn’t know how Elain knows he doesn’t wish to speak, but he’s thankful all the same.
When he returns home, he doesn’t take any potions with him, but nevertheless something inside him feels mended; lighter than it has ever felt before. For a quiet, lovely moment he wonders if maybe he’s worthy of having his hands held despite the scars marring his skin and the idea of such a life follows him all the way home.
The fifth time Azriel returns to Elain’s cottage, nothing seems to be amiss - both Cassian and Rhysand refuse to fight him (since Rhysand promptly forbade them), and Azriel can’t seem to find any more excuses to see her again. Until he realises he doesn’t need them anymore.
As he flies to her house, a million scenarios rush through his mind as he wonders how she’ll react. If she’ll welcome him with her beaming smile, watching him as if she’d been waiting for him all along or if instead, she’ll find it so weird to find him uninjured she’ll send him on his way the second she understands why, exactly, he’s there. Azriel isn’t foolish enough to believe he’d be so lucky, but he wants to brave enough to find out.
He finds sitting in the middle of the daisies, looking for all the world like she has been painted into the landscape to make it all the more appealing. When she sees him, a smile lights up her face, eyes taking him in as he walks her way and Azriel isn’t entirely sure why, but every single doubt tainting his mind melts away into a puddle at the expression on her face.
Elain doesn’t say a word. She simply waits, rising to her feet and watching him with an expectant look in her eyes.   
“I don’t need anything today.” He says by way of greeting, and she gives him a tentative smile. 
“But you’re here.” She says gingerly, not a trace of confusion on her face.
Which makes him confused in return. “I am.” He says, and Elain chuckles, the sound low and so sweet, so perfect his heart nearly leaps from his chest to try and catch the sound. He can’t stop watching her as certainty settles deep into his bones.
Elain blows a breath like she’s finally had enough of his silence. Her cheeks pinken under his stare but she isn’t deterred. “Are you finally going to ask me out, Azriel?” She asks a bit exasperatedly. “Or is the Shadowsinger going to keep getting his ass handed to him until he finds the courage?”
He’s speechless for one second. Two. Three. He vaguely thinks of Mor and how she described Elain as her dear friend . And then he’s wondering if he’s truly that transparent and if she’s known what he had been doing all along – gathering the courage to kiss her, have her in any way he can get.
And then he’s not wondering anymore - he’s pulling her into his arms instead, kissing her until they both can’t breathe, until the sun falls behind the trees, until the cool breeze of January makes Elain shiver in his arms, reminding them of where they are. That, despite the blooming garden and the warmth of their kiss, it’s still January and there’s an entire world out there waiting for them to start the rest of their lives.
But none of it seems to matter as Elain pulls away from him, never letting go of his hand as she asks, “Do you want to come inside?”
And later that night, when the colours of dawn chase away the darkness of the night, with Elain sleeping soundly against his chest, Azriel smiles, shaking his head in disbelief.
Because he now owes Mor a very big fucking box of chocolates.
42 notes · View notes
fell-is-suffering · 3 days
Text
Revisetale!
ahem..just, a post for a few of the designs in my little AU! (i'll be explaining some stuff so- buckle up! cause this might be one of my longest post ever-)
the designs will be separated into a few different parts so..uh, theres that-
i really hope you enjoy my ramble here <3! /nf
The Font Family!
the font family are basically just..the skelebros and frisk (who i am going to explain with their names within a moment-)
the two adopted frisk (or magenta in this case) after the little..incident happened (and they kinda also adopted chara/paradise as well?? i guess?? because para is connected to them in ghost form so uh-) so basically they're family now! (they consider each other as siblings! no fontcest! (geez the fact i had to say it-)
magenta still uses they/them pronouns, but they do like wearing masculine or feminine clothing! it just kinda depends on their mood ig?
papyrus (aka panic..) uses he/they pronouns! and his, let's say more quieter than before, and speaks more in a soft tone. but they do at times go back to his..previous volume. they don't mean it tho!
sans (aka violent or vio!) uses he/him pronouns! despite his name, he is the total opposite of his name, so don't expect much of it! he is..i guess more energetic as before? i mean- at least he cleans around the house every week so..-
oh yeah..forgot to say, the skelebros are old as hell in human terms lmao. vio is 46 years old, panic is 39 years old....magenta is 12 years old- you can guess how awkward it was for magenta lol-
oh yeah- their designs- (little warning for anyone that feels awkward to see skeletons with hair! because the bros have 'em-)
Tumblr media
maybe i should've placed 'em in landscape.. this is violent! sorry if he looks tall- the cause of his design is that one post about fell and enby lust-
Tumblr media
they look so pretty actually wtf? /pos
Tumblr media
magenta! i forgot to include this one but- they're actually half-monster and half-human!
26 notes · View notes
Text
What's x in the equation of love?
Tumblr media
pairing: huang renjun x reader
au/genre: humor, fluff, a tiny bit of angst, slice of life...?, a bit suggestive, college!au, roommate!yangyang
word count: 7053 words
warnings: cursing ☝🏻, yangyang, bad jokes, i really have no idea what this is, but i find it funny, personally, maths, sex jokes, yangyang is... a bit of an ick, one (1) smooch, fast paced ending because i don't know how to finish stories
synopsis: yangyang decides that you need a tutor, he can't take your whining anymore. hence, you're set up to meet the most perfect man you've ever seen. things tend to become more complicated than they have to be.
a/n: why do i always make my supporting characters so disgusting?
a/n 2: holy shit this took so long, but finally!! the strangers to lovers collection is finished! also, this is my first time not writing smut... which was... weird? but refreshing? i hope you enjoy it anyway... even though no one is boneing...
"I can't do this anymore," you sigh, dropping your pencil onto the squared paper in front of you before letting your head thumb loudly against the tabletop. The sound inevitably startles – first and foremost, but not limited to – your best friend, roommate and study partner Yangyang.
It's not like you're bad at studying. It's just that you somehow managed to slack off on a few courses and now your timetable is filled to the brim with seminars and lectures from different semesters, and it's honestly getting a little too much at this point.
"Maths?" Yangyang finally pipes up after watching your motionless figure hunched over one of the many desks in your university's library, staring blankly ahead into nothingness. As an answer, you just sigh again, sitting up and leaning back in your chair. "Why don't you get a tutor?"
"You're my tutor."
"Listen, I love you – platonically – but if you want me to tutor you in maths, we're going to have a problem," Yangyang motions between you and him with his pen while raising his eyebrows, "because I know less than you do."
"I can't believe you're doing this to me," you whine, maybe a notch too loudly because a whole bunch of heads are harshly turned into your direction, several squinted eyes bore into your body from different angles with death glares, and someone even builds up the courage to 'shh' across the room.
"Not knowing maths?"
"Yes!" You throw your hands up, looking at him like it was the most obvious thing in the world. In response, Yangyang just grins, displaying his cute smile before he nudges your shoulder gently. You sigh. "I think I'm going to start crying."
"Please don't, that's cringe. I'll help you find a tutor, alright?"
A few weeks passed since your disastrous study session in the library (definitely not the first nor the last one of those) and in the meantime, Yangyang helped you put up flyers around campus looking for a tutor. Putting your phone number onto the sheet had probably been your first mistake since about half of the calls you got were pervs who, accompanied by a dirty laugh, asked if you needed to be tutored in "sexology". The other half had been a great mixture, a bit of everything, going from 4 invitations to 4 different "best parties ever" to heavy breathing into your ear (which you endured for a solid minute before hanging up to cry into your pillow).
Admittedly, there had been a few serious offers, but somehow they were not good enough for you, either too young, too old, too loud, too fast paced with trying to teach you the content, too this, too that, blah blah blah. Maybe you are just too picky, but would you admit that to Yangyang? Not in this life.
"What's wrong with him?" Yangyang asks as soon as he closes the door behind him, coming home to yet another person leaving your shared apartment with fast and angry steps, and an unreadable, but definitely not happy expression on their face.
"He has a dog."
"So?"
"I'm a cat person."
"With all due respect, but what the fuck?" Yangyang lets his bag drop to the floor so he can motion around with his hands weirdly. "You know you're not supposed to go to the pet shop with them, but let them teach you algebra, right?"
"I know, but trust me. He wasn't good enough for the job." You pout, strolling into the kitchen to make yourself something to eat which in this case means opening a bag of chips and sit down in front of the television to procrastinate and try to forget about the workload and unopened books on your desk that are slowly but surely collecting dust and/or growing mold.
"Could it be that, i don't know, you hypothetically just don't want to get tutored?" Yangyang catches up with you after taking off his shoes at the front door, looking at you accusingly which you only realize after turning your head to send him a sulky look.
"Maybe," you admit and just a second after, Yangyang slaps the back of your head tauntingly which causes you to whine. "What was that for?"
"You can't keep doing this. The next person that's offering to help you, you're going to take. If I hear another 'I can't do this anymore'" – he mocks your signature phrase with a higher pitched voice and odd body movements that remind you of a ship during dangerously harsh motion of the sea – "at 3am, I will move out."
You frown at him, an unuttered blinking battle happening between the two of you before you purse your lips in defeat. "Fine."
"... and I have just the guy in mind."
The guy in mind is no other than Huang Renjun, apparently, as you learn just a day later. Too bad that this information does nothing for you since, honestly, you'd never heard of him before. But hearing nothing about someone means that they can't be that bad, right?
That's what you keep telling yourself on your way to one of your favorite cafés where you're about the meet Yangyang and this Renjun guy in just a few minutes. It's sweet of Yangyang that he wants to help you find a tutor, but honestly, you would have preferred to wallow in self-pity for a couple more days, maybe longer, maybe forever and become a stripper instead.
Studying had always been hard for you, it's not that you're particularly stupid, you just have to realize over and over again that there are many things in this world that are way more interesting, that you'd much rather do than to study.
But maybe this is what you need, a final push into taking care of your life by a dear friend.
Finally, you arrive at your destination, ordering your drink before texting Yangyang a quick message asking about his whereabouts, decorated with an annoyed emoji. The answer comes sadly not in text form as you'd hoped, like something along the lines of "Can't make it, sorry, Renjun is busy" but no. Instead, you hear your name being called and as you look up, there's a particular blonde haired guy waving frantically at you from across the café.
You huff out a breath before moving forward, keeping your eyes to the ground as you make your way towards their table. Maybe, just maybe, you had dreaded this particular meet up and had therefore taken the longer route, and maybe you're a little late.
"Glad you could make it!" Yangyang greets with a fake smile.
"Shut up," you mumble as you sit down next to him, eyes glued to your cup as to not spill any of the liquid on your hands. Or maybe you should let it, it would make a great excuse to leave immediately.
"I'm Renjun!"
God, fuck.
You clutch your chest with your hand, admittedly over-dramatically. You had almost forgotten about him. Quickly, you collect yourself and look up at him, opening your mouth ready to introduce yourself too, but all that comes out is a weird, stertorous breath because holy shit, this guy's- handsome? Pretty? Beautiful? Perfect???
With a worried expression, Yangyang pads your back, probably already imagining you saying that Renjun could not tutor you because his perfume smells too strong, when in reality you'd kill – twice – to only get one tiny whiff of this man's fragrance.
Finally, you have grounded yourself, given Renjun your name and avoided shaking his hand successfully because he does not have to know how sweaty your palms are. Lucky for you, Yangyang remembers an insanely interesting topic that he has to talk to Renjun about, giving you the time and opportunity to study Renjun's face and everything else about him that is exposed to your eyes above the tabletop.
The first eye catcher would be his two toned hair that gently curls around his cheeks, framing it as if his face is a beautiful painting, which in your opinion, it certainly is. Next, you focus on his eyes that still seem to sparkle, even in the shitty light of the cheap café. He also has extremely beautiful lips, so slender, but at the same time so plush and full, so incredibly kissable. And his big nose...
A sudden shadow comes into your line of view, quickly followed by a quick, stinging pain as Yangyang pinches your nose to get your attention.
"What?!" You exclaim, holding onto your nose to, honestly, feel if it's still there as you look at Yangyang with squinted eyes full of annoyance.
"I've asked you something, like, three times." Yangyang chuckles as he pinches your earlobe next. "Did you space out again thinking about the amount of liquid a bladder can hold?"
"That is an embarrassing piece of information that I would have preferred to stay between the two of us." You grit your teeth as you glare at Yangyang. "And stop pinching me!" You hit Yangyang's hand as he reaches out to pinch your cheek next.
Yangyang laughs, "I'm sorry, it was my fault for occupying your study date for so long. I'll be on my way now. Have fun, but not too much fun since this is only maths and it would be weird if you had fun."
And with that, Yangyang disappears, completely ignoring your pleading puppy-eyes as he grabs his bag and waves, almost bumping into the waitress on his way out, apologizing profoundly before smirking, and asking for her number.
Now, it's just the two of you alone and with every second that Yangyang's gone the awkward silence thickens and your death wish upon Yangyang grows.
"So, uhm." Renjun clears his throat, sorting through his papers quickly before placing them down again in the initial order. "Yangyang sent me the topics of your maths course for this semester so I've brought some material."
You nod, finding it particularly hard to focus on anything but Renjun's perfect eyebrows, which is also the reason you can't really appreciate or be surprised that Yangyang actually put this much effort into something for little old you.
"I would like to make a plan, like repeating study dates, and I'd love to discuss the topics of each lesson right now so we're prepared. We can time it with your lectures and go over the stuff beforehand so you're prepared for each lecture. I mean, if that's something you want?" Renjun looks up from his notes, his eyes directly meeting yours and you feel yourself melt.
"Yes, of course." You're surprised that you managed to bring out actual words and not just a needy whine because... anything with you is something I'd want. You can do anything with me. Anything.
Anything.
"Great!"
And just like that, you're diving head first into your first study session with Renjun and you have to admit, he is incredibly smart and great at explaining, and, as long as you don't look at him directly or for too long, you believe he could really help you with your maths problems.
An hour later, you part ways, half bowing, half waving at each other, both still too new to the situation to be able to define your relationship and therefore agree on a proper way of saying goodbye, but so be it. The inner shame you're feeling about your awkward goodbye will hopefully subside in the next few hours. Or days. As soon as you turn the corner you bump into someone.
After an exaggerated intake of air, you glare at him. "Don't tell me you were waiting here this whole time."
"Brought my Nintendo." Yangyang smiles, waving the device in front of your face.
"Still weird."
"Did you really expect me to miss the first opportunity in my life of you telling me that I was right?" Yangyang beams confidently and as much as you fight it, a smile creeps onto your features as well because, yes, he had been right, Renjun is perfect at tutoring as well as every other aspect you've seen so far.
"He has a what?!"
"A girlfriend," Yangyang repeats, but it's so muffled by the food stuffed into his mouth that you believe you misheard him again. Or maybe that's just you hoping.
"A what?"
"Girlfriend."
"What?"
"GIRLFRIEND!!"
"And that's why he can't tutor me?!"
Yangyang swallows before answering this time and you're thankful for that. "Apparently. He just told me to tell you."
On the outside, you may have looked normal in this moment, just staring at Yangyang with an indifferent look on your face, but on the inside? It's like a whole world crushing down behind your eyes. In your head, there are at least 20 different little 'you's running around screaming and waving their arms around frantically, everything is one fire, in the distance: sirens. Why had no one mentioned Renjun's girlfriend before? You could've spend the past nights planning scenarios in your head about marrying him as you fell asleep doing something... something else! Something with a perspective, at least.
Of course, Renjun has a girlfriend. Honestly, you'd have been surprised if he didn't have one, but it still kind of stung right there in your chest, all your little fantasies that you've made up during movie nights with Yangyang vaporizing into thin air at the thought that he already is someone's.
"Why do you seem so upset by this? Could it be that you, i don't know, mayhaps like him?" Yangyang smirks, dropping his chopsticks to fold his hands under his chin, leaning his elbows onto the table to smirk at you.
"No." You stare back at him without a hint of emotion on your features. "I just need him to tutor me."
Yangyang sighs, picking his chopsticks back up, seemingly disappointed by the lack of crush you pretend to have on Renjun. There are not too many things you're good at, but hiding your feelings is one of them.
"Is something wrong?" Renjun finally asks you.
You've been sitting at your dining table for quite some time now and all you did so far was sulkingly pout and not look him in the eyes. Remember when you said that you're good at hiding your feelings? Scratch that when it comes to Renjun.
Renjun looks at you worriedly, clicking his pen thrice before putting it down on his book, your eyes following his every movement until you finally look up into his eyes. "Are you mad because I raised my voice when I told you to take the square root for the n-th time? Because if-"
"No, it's not that. There's just a lot on my mind lately." You sigh, eyes going back to the sheet of paper in front of you as you fiddle around with your pen almost nervously.
"You can always talk to me, you know?" Renjun finally says after you've been pretending to work on your task for quite some time. You raise your eyebrows simultaneously with your head to look at him in disbelief. "If you want to, of course..."
"I don't think your girlfriend would appreciate that..." You mumble, hoping he would not hear it, but apparently, Renjun's ears are extraordinarily intact and a tiny smile tucks at the corners of his mouth. You watch him as he leans back in his chair, closing his book to symbolize the ending of this study session, though his pen is still stuck in between the pages, bulging through the thin pages and the wobbly cover.
Renjun sighs, seemingly in deep thought about what to tell you next and a tiny wave of anxiety washes over you at the thought that maybe you've just given away your slowly but surely forming crush on him, and scared him away.
"I don't-" Renjun takes a deep breath, "I don't care what she thinks."
Your eyebrows shoot upwards at the speed of light. Out of all the possible answers in this scenario, this would've been your last guess. What's that even supposed to mean? Your surprise at his words seem to be showing on your face since Renjun leans forward onto his forearms, minimizing the space in between the two of you.
"Look..." He begins, but seems to be in trouble about how to put his situation into words. "Let's just say, it's not going too well. Let's leave it at that."
You nod understandingly, briefly licking over your lower lip, averting your eyes away from his form. To say you're not curious would be a lie, though you respect his wish to leave it at that, silently sorting your things as Renjun stuffs his own into his backpack. "I'll walk you out."
The next study session has you biting your nails in nervousness. Renjun seems to be in an exceptionally bad mood today, and he has no problem raising his voice at you every time you make an unnecessary mistake. You try your best to ignore the way that's making you feel, given the mood he's in, but you try to remember that feeling for the next time you're alone.
"What's up with you today?"
Renjun huffs, leaning back in his chair to fiddle with his fingers in his lap. He looks kind of cute like that, you have to admit, but you keep that thought to yourself for obvious reasons, instead taking a sip of your water to hide the small smile forming on your face.
"We broke up."
You spit the water out all over the table, wetting a few of your work sheets in the process. Renjun, unfazed by your sudden fountain imitation, just sighs, eyes trained on his hands as you try to dry all of the wet stains on the wooden and papery surfaces with tissues.
"It's not like I'm not glad about the decision, it's just that... I was so used to her presence in my life," Renjun continues as if you didn't just spit a few droplets onto his pants, "the circumstances for our break-up were also... unfortunate."
"I'm so sorry," you say, a squelching flapping sound of the soaked glob of tissues hitting the ground next to the garbage can accompanying your words as you reach out to gently pad his forearm. You notice the way his eyes focus on the exact spot where you touch him.
Quickly, you retort your hand, suddenly feeling like that had just been the worst decision of your life, but Renjun grabs your wrist before you pull it out of his reach. "It's okay, you can touch me."
You don't want to admit to the rush of warmth spreading over your body at his words, not even to yourself. It's embarrassing, he didn't even mean it like that, but it still gets you all hot and bothered. There are just many, many places and occasions where you'd like to touch him.
"There's no one to stop you," Renjun adds, chuckling gently as he refers to his now ex girlfriend and obviously himself. It seems like your silence didn't go unnoticed by him.
"May I ask... what happened?"
Renjun blinks at you, and for a split second, you believe asking was a mistake. But then, he answers, "It's been... not going well for a while now. We're too different, and I honestly fell out of love with her a long time ago. Plus-"
Renjun halts for a moment, before he continues, "there's someone that... made me realize that there are still many other good options out there."
"Ah, really?" You chuckle awkwardly. You're aware that if your friends were here right now, they'd all nudge your sides with their elbows, grinning widely in belief he's talking about you. You, on the other hand, are not so sure about that.
"I only met this person a few weeks ago, but I feel like... there's a connection. I mean, I don't know what it is, but I'm insanely attracted to- that person." Renjun scratches the back of his head, eyes locking with yours as if he's waiting for you to say something.
"I- can relate," you try.
"What if-" Renjun starts, but then begins shaking his head, "never mind."
You don't see Renjun for a few weeks. Every time, it's either you or him who has to cancel the meeting due to personal reasons. Yangyang is the one accompanying you during your solo study sessions, tapping away on his phone as you massage your temples with such force that you're surprised the you haven't rubbed any holes into your skull yet.
"Why isn't he coming today?" Yangyang pipes up, putting his phone onto the table with the screen facing down. You sigh so heavily and dramatically that Yangyang raises an eyebrow. You throw your pencil onto the wooden surface so hard that it rolls over the expanse of the table until it falls to the ground at the opposite end.
"I don't know," you say through gritted teeth, throwing Yangyang a stern look like he's a bird that just took a fat dump right onto the wind shield of your new car.
"Woah," Yangyang throws his hands up intermediately, mouth agape in fake offense, "no need to lash out on me like that, I'm not occupying your sexy tutor right now."
"Why are you calling him that?" You gasp.
"Because that's what you think he is," Yangyang states, nodding with a smile on his face. You sigh.
"I mean, he's not ugly," you reason, but that statement is enough for Yangyang to pull out his folder almost spilling over with collages and collections of white dresses, suits, napkins and bouquets to plan your wedding. Metaphorically speaking, of course.
"I think he wants you too," Yangyang sighs dreamily, folding his hands underneath his chin to rest it on top.
"Calm down, cupid, he just broke up with his girlfriend."
"For you," Yangyang sing-songs, dragging out the words as he finger-guns at you, "now we just need a plan to get you two to- you know," Yangyang motions with his hands and you're not completely sure whether he's trying to symbolize intercourse or solving an invisible Rubix cube.
"No."
"Yes!" Yangyang gasps offendedly.
"No! I need him to tutor me! Even if, hypothetically, he was madly in love with me," – you scoff to hide a forming grin – "I need his help! The exam is in just under a week, and neither him nor I can get distracted during these times of terror!"
Yangyang just watches you doubtfully.
"Believe me, it's better if I just study on my own. I can always ask him via text," you announce your final stance, waving your phone in the air to prove that due to the break-throughs of modern technology over the past years, he's just the press of a button away.
Yangyang does not budge nor react.
"What I'm trying to say is: do not get involved!" You screech, opting to throw a balled up piece of paper into his face that he doges with ease.
Apparently, your words mean nothing to Yangyang because just a day later he's invited you to the same cheap café where you had met Renjun for the first time. Too bad that Yangyang didn't show up. Someone else did show up, though, and it was no other than the complete content of your last month's dreams: Renjun.
"Where-" you begin, but soon realize that this is a set-up, and you make a mental note to strangle Yangyang as soon as you get home. With a slight smile, Renjun sits down across from you, hands wrapped around his paper cup filled with what you assume is tea, judging by the little label on a string dangling from under the lid.
"I swear to God, I'm going to kill him," you mutter, but Renjun suddenly puts a hand onto your forearm, your gaze burning into the pretty birthmark on the back of his hand immediately.
"Please don't," Renjun says, voice so soft that you have to pull yourself together as to not slide off your chair to melt into a puddle on the floor. Instead, you look up to find his beautiful eyes already locking with yours. "You need me right now, in these times of terror."
"He told you about that," you whine, face scrunching up in embarrassment.
"Yes," Renjun nods, pressing his lips together to symbolize empathy for your situation, that you accept with a sigh. Renjun does not need to know, and will never find out, that you actually will bury Yangyang alive in your neighbor's yard once you get back, or at least bewitch him so he never dares to darken your doorstep again. "The important thing is, I'm here. And I will get you through that exam."
"Honestly, I might as well just drop out. It's useless, you're just wasting your time. I should just become a stripper or something," you complain, fingers picking at your chipped off nail polish.
"As much as I'd love to see that..."
"What was that?"
"Nothing. I don't want you to give up so easily! You can do this, I believe in you!" Renjun fakes a grin and shakes his fists in the air. "Jiāyóu~!"
You grimace at the expression, but then break out a smile as well. God, you missed him. Honestly, when you're looking at him, all the motivation his pretty eyes contain kind of latch onto you as well. Maybe you can do it, but not without his help.
"I'm free every day starting tomorrow."
"Sounds good to me."
A mathematics-marathon should be the last thing to be excited for, though you still found yourself sleepless rolling around your mattress the night prior, a giggling grin on your face as you imagined the next 3 days to be filled with nothing but quality time with Renjun. Even Yangyang is surprised seeing you up so early the next day, making coffee with a smile and a tune on your lips, and even a 'good morning' – something he hadn't received in years, maybe not ever.
"Alright, all set?" You ask, beaming.
"Yeah?"
"Great! I'll go masturbate!"
"Why?"
"Because I have to be able to focus on studying-"
"No, why are you telling me this?" Yangyang whines, shielding his ears with his palms to protect them from more tmi, though you huff out a laugh before leaning in to pinch his cheek.
"Yangie, you're so silly! Anyway, he'll be here soon, open the door for him when he's here, yeah?" You pad his head before turning to storm off to your room.
"Who?" Yangyang's brows furrow at the lack of knowledge he has regarding the situation. As if on cue, the doorbell rings. You squeak happily, then go to open the door for Renjun who stands there looking handsome as ever.
"Hi," he smiles, body decorated with a huge binder in his arm, a bag crossing over his torso and a small suitcase in his unoccupied hand. He looks breathtaking as always, and you almost forget to let him inside.
"Renjun!" It sounds from Yangyang who finally built up enough curiosity to sneak up on whoever just entered your shared home. Renjun smiles and waves at him as he rids himself of his coat and shoes. You can do nothing but watch in awe at how someone can look this enticing hanging a piece of clothing to a wall. Yangyang does not waste a second before wrapping an arm around Renjun's shoulders to drag him away.
"Where are you taking him?" Your brows furrow as you grab ahold of Renjun's wrist to stop him from going anywhere, ignoring the rush of excitement flowing through you at the feeling of his body's warmth.
"Thought you wanted to go masturbate," Yangyang bites back with a dirty grin. He always acts like a mess on mornings, but apparently it's all been an act, he seems to be able to throw you under the bus just fine.
"He doesn't know what he's talking about," you speak sweetly to Renjun, guiding him with you to sit at the table, but not before throwing Yangyang a dirty look. Renjun seems a bit taken aback, but generally grown accustomed to your continuous bickering.
If this was a movie, there would be a montage of studying clips with energetic rock music playing in the background right now. Of you chewing on your pencil, Renjun pointing at an equation in the book, explaining stuff with a serious expression and you nodding along. You scribbling away on a sheet of paper furiously, Renjun pinching the bridge of his nose while shaking his head. You throwing your pencil through the room in defeat before placing your head on the table top with Renjun patting your shoulder. Yangyang on the couch deeply invested in his Nintendo DS, occasionally picking his nose. Renjun motioning his hands in the air as you squint at him and nod. You showing Renjun how you managed to solve the equation, but Renjun presses his lips together. You screaming, claw-like hands shaking in the air as hot tears wet your cheeks. Renjun standing up, his own hands in his hair, panicking. Yangyang munching on a piece of toast which goes down the wrong pipe causing him to cough violently. The sun moving over the sky before being replaced by the moon at a sped-up pace, implying that these moments were happening over the course of multiple days. You sniffling, wiping your eyes every few seconds as you write something down again with Renjun nervously biting his nails and pacing around the room. You handing Renjun the paper, your hands shaking, and Renjun's eyes going wide, a smile forming on his lips. You screaming and cheering, jumping up and down celebrating, the sudden noise causing Yangyang to jump and fall of the couch.
"I'm going to the toilet," Yangyang announces, "don't wait up."
"Okay, ha-"
"I'm going to poop! Jesus, have you ever heard of privacy? You guys are so nosy," Yangyang whines before exiting the room. Renjun throws you a questioning look that you do not see, only sense, as your eyes are focused on the numbers and letters on your sheet of paper.
"He gets stressed when a costumer of his Style Boutique isn't happy with the item he chose for them," you briefly explain.
"Oh, so that's what he's been playing for the past two days?"
"What did you think?" You mumble, tongue catching between your lips as you punch the keys of your calculator until it finally gives you the answer you longed for.
"I don't know actually. Good for him," Renjun smiles.
"He's trying to get to the platinum level at the fashion contests right now."
"Sounds dedicated."
"I'm done! Check it please," you draw out the last syllable to sound cute, and if your brain wasn't filled with purely maths, you'd probably cringe at yourself right now. Renjun grins and takes the paper from you. Going through the lines, he keeps nodding, and you bite your pointer finger over your folded hands anxiously.
"Well, except that the answer is plus and minus 3, you managed to get everything right," Renjun beams, scribbling a little smiley next to your answer. You clap your hands in front of your chest, feeling relieved. Your heart beats a little faster as you watch Renjun flip through the pages.
"Okay, this one is really hard. If you get this right, you're definitely acing this topic," Renjun explains, the tip of his pen quickly drawing tiny little dots next to the exercise on the papery surface of the math book.
"I can do it," you nod and high five him before diving in.
While your nose is buried in your notes, scribbling away furiously, Renjun anxiously leans back. Yangyang reenters the room, locking eyes with Renjun who smiles nervously.
Yangyang grins, eyes darting to your hunched over form at the table, tongue stuck between your lips in upmost concentration, then back to Renjun, and he wiggles his brows teasingly. Renjun, innocent as he is, tilts his head in confusion. Yangyang stares at your form again, eyes widening purposely before doing the same while looking at Renjun, then he purses his lips to mimic a kiss. Renjun stares blankly ahead, still not getting it.
Yangyang groans silently before dramatically pointing at you with both hands, then to Renjun, before balling his fists and thrusting his hips into the distance between his hands, then halting and staring at Renjun intently.
Renjun blushes profusely and looks away.
Yangyang chuckles dirtily.
That makes you look up, "what?"
You notice Yangyang grinning and Renjun looking ready for the ground to swallow him whole. "Don't worry about it," Yangyang says grinning evilly before flopping back down on the couch, miscalculating the distance and almost tumbling back off.
Renjun gulps, you notice, and smiles at you awkwardly. You shrug and get back to calculating. Renjun is sweating, nervously gazing at Yangyang who is back in his Style Boutique, then at you as you write down something on your sheet of paper. Renjun notices the way your lashes curve softly, and how you slightly puff out your cheeks in concentration, and he can't help but recall the moment a minute ago, and what Yangyang was implying.
"I am sweating buckets," you inform everyone in hearing radius, and it's true. There are pearls of sweat running down your back right now, party because the next one and a half hours are going to determine the course of your enter life, and partly because, as well established by now: Renjun.
"You can do it," Renjun says full of energy, having woken up extra early to send you on your way into the exam, both of his hands on your shoulders, shaking you lightly, "repeat after me."
"I can do it," you say, trying to sound determined, as a bypassing student accidentally bumps into your arm as they enter the classroom.
"Yes!" Renjun nods, gazing softly into your eyes, his soft smile faltering a little as you gaze back into his eyes, your gaze unmistakably flickering down to his lips as he is standing so close. You gulp and nod, forcing a smile.
The awkward tension lingers in the air for a bit before another student bumping into you rips you from your daze.
"Maybe I should-" you say, clearing your throat, and Renjun nods.
"I'll be rooting for you," Renjun smiles, waving as you turn around and enter the room, sending him a last nervous, tight-lipped smile before disappearing in the midst of other nervous students.
Not really knowing what to do with himself, Renjun sits down on the floor across the room, scrolling on his phone and checking the time bi-minutely. He falls asleep soon after, and if he could see the way he is sitting from a third person's POV, he would be concerned for the state of his neck.
A loud smack on the top of his head with a playboy magazine wakes him up.
Immediately in fight mode, he takes the pose he learned in self defense class, but he soon realizes it's just Yangyang.
"Hello Romeo," he teases, plopping down next to Renjun far too carelessly for the solidity of the hallway floor, and Renjun halts briefly to worry about YangYang's tailbone, but he seems just fine. Yangyang seems to have no problems showing off his porn magazine as he openly leaves it laying on his lap.
"Hello Yangyang," Renjun replies briefly, forcing himself to look at the ceiling as to not lock eyes with a pair of boobs.
"What's ya fine ass doing here?"
Renjun vaguely gestures towards the closed door of the room you're currently taking your maths exam in. Yangyang's eyes follow his hand, grinning deviously as he finally rolls the playboy magazine up and stuffs it into the side pocket of his cargo pants.
"Waiting for your girlfriend, huh?"
"She's not my girlfriend..." Renjun mumbles, blushing.
Yangyang pokes his side obnoxiously hard, making Renjun tilt his body to avoid a bruise. "C'mon... it's obvious."
Renjun shifts in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. Yangyang was never one to be bothered by that.
"You like her, don't you? It's hot to you that she's as dumb as a bread," Yangyang grins, and after receiving a questioning look by Renjun clarifies, "a German expression."
"I... maybe I like her... she's funny and... sweet and... pretty smart except for maths," Renjun shrugs timidly.
Yangyang blinks at him, "agree to disagree... anyway! You should totally shoot your shot."
This time, Renjun blinks wordlessly, then after a moment says, "I don't think she even likes me."
"Are you joking?!" Yangyang shrieks, causing a few heads turn towards them, but he pays them no mind. "She's literally been head over heels for you since like 1947."
"We weren't even born then... my parents weren't even born then," Renjun points out.
"Dude," Yangyang comes unnecessarily close, "trust me. She's dtf!"
Renjun blinks, unfamiliar with the acronym.
"Oh my God, am I the only person familiar with slang? Is math really all you do?" Yangyang shakes his head in disbelief, and as Renjun opens his mouth to protest, to inform Yangyang that he, in fact, has various hobbies that have very little to do with maths, and besides, that math provides a lot of fun activities, like sudoku, but Yangyang stops him, "doesn't matter. She," he halts, rolling his eyes at the forced lack of euphemisms and exaggeration, "likes you."
Renjun does not seem convinced.
"Look, I'll give you my pair of Air Jordan 4 Retro Kaws Sneakers if I'm wrong," Yangyang says seriously.
"Why would I want your worn out shoes?"
"For God's sake!" Yangyang rubs his hands over his face, "why are we friends again?"
"Well, we met on vacation in 2017 and you said "on fleek, Chinese bros for the win," and you wouldn't leave me alone after."
"Chinese bros for the win," Yangyang repeats proudly, making Renjun glance around in embarrassment.
In that same moment, the door opens, revealing your figure sneaking out. With a glance at the time, Renjun immediately has a bad feeling about this. Not even two thirds of the time have passed since you entered the exam room, and from experience (of others, he himself has never had an issue with any exams), Renjun knows this usually doesn't end well.
You spot both boys sitting on the floor and step over. Renjun has never been more unable to read someone's emotional state. Hence, he gets up, preparing for the worst.
"And?" He asks hesitantly. In response, you shrug, informing them that you'll get the results an hour after the exam is finished. Renjun sighs, not a big fan of this uncertainty, but what choice does he have? Bribing the professor to look over your exam first and let him know whether you passed or not? ... that's not legal, right?
Three pairs of eyes are anxiously trained on your iPad screen in the middle of the table. Well, one pair of eyes, rather, since your eyes are fixated on how pretty Renjun's nose looks from this angle, and Yangyang is unmistakably scrolling on TikTok.
"Can you refresh again?" Renjun basically begs, gaze catching yours. He looks so distressed that it seemed as if he was waiting for his own results to come in. Well, in a way, he is.
Just as the clock strikes, you refresh the page, and a new email shows up. You gulp, glancing at Renjun who seems to be sweating buckets as he picks at his cuticles anxiously. Even Yangyang has abandoned his phone on the table, watching with interest. Hesitantly, your finger hovers over the email.
"I can't even look," Renjun brings out, covering his eyes with his birth marked hand. You take a deep breath before opening the document. A bone chilling screech emits from your throat, and no one is sure as to what that means.
Renjun, hand still covering his eyes, shrieks, "what??"
You grab onto his wrist and pull his hand away from his face, grinning widely "56%!"
It takes a moment to register in Renjun's brain, but then his jaw drops, the corners of his mouth pulling into a huge grin, "56%!!"
Confused, Yangyang watches. 56% isn't really that much...
"You did is!" Renjun cheers, getting up at the same time as you, wrapping his arms around your waist without even thinking and spinning you around happily.
"We did it!" You correct him with a happy grin, cheering along with him as you celebrate. Yangyang raises a skeptical brow, but his face contorts in slight amusement. The according to Yangyang slightly cringe celebration goes on for a good while before you seem to be calming down.
Renjun's eyes gaze deeply into yours, "I told you you could do it..."
"This was mostly your work, honestly..." you whisper back, gulping a little as you shamelessly stare at his lips, watching has his tongue wets them, Another quick look into Renjun's eyes and your lips crash into each other, hands frantically pulling the other close.
"Oh wow," Yangyang comments, shocked, but not surprised, grinning dirtily as he pats himself on the shoulder, fully convinced that he is to take full credit for this.
Renjun's lips feel so soft and perfect against yours that you fear you will lose consciousness if this continues on for much longer – not that you mind. It's as if all these weeks of pining, dreaming and wishing were not in vain. Completely tuning out Yangyang's speech about how he knew all along, you and Renjun lose yourselves in your own little world, tongues too shy to dart out just yet.
You finally part after a bit, slowly opening your eyes to stare at each other with what could only be described as the beginning of a love that will bloom beautifully. Renjun clears his throat awkwardly, but he can't help but smile softly as you gulp and timidly bite your lip.
"So..." Yangyang announces, snapping you out of your trances and making you both look at him, "when can we expect babies?"
"Yangyang..." Renjun groans defeatedly, and you grab your slipper off your foot to hit Yangyang with it, who laughs menacingly as he tumbles off his chair and takes off into his room, but not without another comment, "name one after me!"
© 2024 YUTASBELLYBUTTONPIERCING all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works.
35 notes · View notes
violetscanfly · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
Vampire Wei Wuxian & (Ex)Vampire hunter Lan Wangji
224 notes · View notes
skitskatdacat63 · 2 months
Text
I don't know how I'd ever convey this in art but. Thinking very deeply about how in boy king au, a very crucial part of characterization is that Seb is a wolf in sheep(or lamb more specifically)'s clothing and Fernando is a sheep in wolf's clothing.
Seb is very unassuming, very delicate, seemingly very vulnerable and malleable. But, deep down, he can be very ruthless. It's in the the way he hesitantly declares war, with a spark in his eye and a suppressed smirk. In the way he challenges someone to a card game or a horse race, proclaiming that he's not great, but winning every round and prancing around the room and mentioning it ad infinitum. The way he's able to instantly turn the tide in a debate in one fell swoop. By showing all his cards constantly and letting himself be vulnerable, he's making himself invulnerable. No one would ever consider him to be able to make big moves, so he wins every single time, because no one even thinks to expect it from him.
Fernando on the other hand, is constantly committed to having a looming presence and harsh reputation, but deep down, he's soft. He knows what happens to people when they're vulnerable, and he's not going to let himself be taken advantage of. The way he keeps a brave face when being informed of the marriage proposal, but goes back to his room and cries. The way he proclaims that he was always going to be the rightful ruler of Spain, but confides to Flavio that he never thought there was any real chance of it ever happening. The way he takes himself so seriously in public, but inside feels so giddy whenever he can make someone laugh. Everything to him always feels unstable and ready to crumble at any moment, and he's not willing to contribute to that by letting himself relax.
I think thats why it's very difficult for them to get along at first, because they have completely different approaches to how they carry themselves and make their way through life. Seb is confused at Fernando because he feels that he's very bland and overly serious at first, but truthfully he's not really seeing the actual Fernando. And Fernando finds Seb to be naive and easily taken advantage of, but that's because he's never seen Seb at his most cruel. Seb really loves when he eventually gets to see Fernando being vulnerable, and Fernando really admires and respects Seb when he sees him being serious. I think it just takes a while for them to show the other their full and complete selves, even the parts they can sometimes be ashamed of. There's this very compelling dichotomy in Seb laying out all his cards, but still being very difficult to read, and Fernando keeping his cards to his chest, but his intentions often being easily seen through.
#meanwhile everyone else: what is this weird fucked up mating ritual they are participating in#though i think its very interesting how their motivations differ#seb wants to lull people into a false sense of security(and also really just likes to be his complete unadulterated self)#and fernando is guarding himself because he doesn't want to get hurt#and i think seb convinces Fernando that its okay to be openly soft and yourself :) not eveyrone is out to get you#and fernando teaches seb hey maybe dont invite this obvious assassin to your chambers?????#i think seb also has insecurites but Fernando's are just more easy to explain bcs hes in a much more difficult situation#at the end of the day both of them are putting on facades in some way#(i think seb likes to be himself but also does feel really hurt when people dont think he has the capacity or ability to rule effectively)#(he likes to be kind and playful and doesnt want to obscure that part of himself. but hes aware it can hurt his image unfortunately)#also lol the way i characterize fernando is very historically accurate btw#bcs the spanish court tradition was basically to be above it all and be a lofty unobtainable figure if that makes sense#yknow having just this insane level of confidence and infallible image of yourself as the ruler#the guy seb is based on really bought into that idea but i dont think it really suits seb so yeah#seb I think is very much a unique figure that others have a lot of trouble reading him and his intentions. which is great!#AAAAAHHH MAN FELT REALLY GOOD TO WRITE ALL THAT OUT !!!!!!!!!#i love writing their characterization so fucking much you dont understand#its nice to put it in words like this bcs yknow i dont rly enjoy actual writing. but this i enjoy greatly#hope this is compelling to more than just me hahaha#boy king au#catie.rambling.txt#vettonso
25 notes · View notes
fowlaroundtown · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Since everybody and their mom is making (very cool) seperated aus these days, me and @hamburgrr decided to take a crack at it!!! Here’s the Mikey and Donnie designs! I’ll probably post some more stuff here if we ever end up making character sheets!
There’s some concepts and more info underneath the cut.
Tumblr media
So D is less of a Battle Nexus Champion and more of the Battle Nexus’s game master. He works for his Mama at designing and controlling the arena to make a more interesting battle. Think gladiator meets Saw. Again, I’ll go more into him and his charavter arc and stuff when the time comes.
Tumblr media
Mikey doesn’t have to many concepts because I made the design and we just loved it so much that we didn’t really change anything.
Anyway, he was raised by Draxum in this. Which is to say, he’s a badass mystic warrior. By the time the series starts, He knows how to use his mystic weapon probably the best out of all of them, except for maybe Raph.
It’s very important to mention here that Draxum is not abusive in this au. He raised Mikey as a son AND a student. He’s not the greatest dad in the world, but he’s not actively trying to hurt Mikey. Nothing against aus that swing that way, we just really didn’t want that to happen in ours.
AnywY. Thanks for reading! Can’t wait to do more stuff with this :)))
198 notes · View notes
rosesradio · 9 months
Text
update on the fic:
the time for me is half past eleven, and i have finished the fic with a final word count of 22,310 words.
however, it's very late and i need a fresh set of eyes for editing (it's not a quick grammer scan, this thing needs revisions i'm so serious lmao). so i'm going to keep it in the drafts for right now and try to post it tomorrow.
sorry to anyone who wanted to read it, & i'm happy you do, but trust me--i want to post it when it's at what i consider a good quality for my readers. gn you guys <3
1 note · View note
lunacrescentmoon · 2 years
Text
Well, doing part 2 now. (Also writing this in google docs on my laptop instead of tumblr on my phone-) And Outerkiller warning, cause it’s a ship my friend and I ship- It’s mostly there just for some context and a short scene, so not that bad, but it’s a scene I thought was worth warning in case you aren’t into it-
---A very fun and messy road trip---
Dream suddenly jolted as the van zoomed off, really startled at the noise. He let out a quack of fear, hiding under Cross and Horror’s wings. Horror’s wings were that floofy that they kind of melded with Cross’. Both of them turned to the duckling skeleton, smiling at one another as they knew what was happening.
But after the initial takeoff, it was smooth. Dream slowly came out, relaxing in the back seat as he saw the trees go by. It was mesmerising. Going by what felt so slow looking out the front window, yet so fast when looking out his own. It… made him feel kind of sick in a way… but it was worth it. However, after a bit, his head began to spin.
He curled up on his side, head resting in Horror’s lap, his eyes closed. Maybe that would help him. And it kind of did. Although, Horror’s petting also helped the headache. Cross put his hand on Dream’s side.. Only to be greeted by an angry snarl from a defensive rooster. The swan quickly recoiled, putting his hands on his lap. But Dream let out a quiet chirp.
“Crossy….?..” He mumbled, wings ruffled.
Horror realised Dream wasn’t going to be harmed or feel any worse. He felt better with the touch. So, Horror gave Cross one last suspicious glare, followed by a nod. Cross began to pet Dream’s wing a little, preening it lightly.
“It’s okay, Dreamy…. Just relax….” Cross whispered.
“What’s happening back there?” Error asked, his glitching voice sounding bored as ever with the shenanigans.
“Dream is feeling a bit sick…”
“What?!” Error exclaimed, boredom gone and replaced with worry- anger. Definitely only anger.
Cross flinched. “He’s never been in the van before… cut him some slack…”
Error relaxed, slightly. He wouldn’t admit it but… Dream had helped him feel a bit better after… the first interaction didn’t go so well… Before the whole bird incident…
A/N: Direct quote here from calcium-cat’s story- I will link the first chapter at the end so you can read the full thing. It is an amazing read. ^w^
“Hey! Put me down,” it whined, trying to wiggle out of the strings and failing.
“N-n-n-not until you tell me-me-me who this “Midnight” is-is-is. He your little f-f-f-friend?” he asked, crossing his arms.
“Midnight is my friend, and he’s bigger and stronger and he’s gonna stop you!”
“I’d like to-to-to see him try.”
It suddenly stopped its squirming and glared silently at him.
He stared back, determined to win this standoff.
. . .
His patience lasted only about three seconds.
But right as he was about to snap, the kid shut it’s sockets and took a deep breath.
“MIIIDNIIIGHHHHHTT!!!”
“A-a-a-aHh!” Error screamed, covering his ear canals.
A moment later, the sound of a teleport distracted Error from his flash of anger. Both he and the little anomaly looked over at the door in time to see Nightmare’s form materialise in front of them. His expression looked more annoyed than angry, but his twitching tentacles gave him away.
“Alright, what have you done this ti-” he groaned, only to stop and stare open mouthed at the two monsters.
“Midnight!”
“MidNighT-t-tT!?”
“Error! Put him down!” Nightmare demanded.
The glitch looked at the kid, then back at the scowling skeleton. “W-w-what? What’s going-”
“NOW!”
“Ok, ok, I’m d-d-d-doing it,” he said hastily, releasing his strings and dropping it onto the ground.
A/N: Sorry for using so much, it was the best I could do without cutting the best part lmao-
Back when Dream thought Nightmare was Midnight. Error gave a slight flinch at the memory, but didn’t do much more other than that. He was worried about Dream, no doubt.
When he heard a quiet quacking from the back seat, his instincts kicked in. He checked back on Dream, but…
“Zzz….. quack……”
He was asleep, curled up between Cross and Horror.
Error sighed in relief. Turning back to the windshield, he noticed they were in a different AU. Which one exactly was unknown, but it was a surface AU.
“It doesn’t matter…” Error smiled slightly.
When they reached the spot after a good 3 hours, Nightmare parked the van by the campsite. Where they all went camping last time they left. Dust, being excited and still in magpie form… forgot the window was shut-
THUD!!..... Sqqquuueeeaaakkk…. Thud!
Nightmare snickered, trying not to laugh as he picked the fallen magpie up. Opening the door, he walked out. Dream was still asleep, but the quacking had stopped. It was only soft breathing accompanying quiet snores from the exhausted duckling.
Horror smiled, petting Dream’s back between his wings. Gently, but with a bit of force behind it to wake him up. But.. it didn’t work this time. The poor chick had just exhausted himself somehow.
The rooster’s brain went into overdrive.
Had Dream been sleeping enough? Did he skip breakfast? No, he had breakfast with the rest of them. Had Dream tried to fly alone again? Was he hurt from a fall? WAS HE SICK-
“Dream…” Cross whispered, sensing Horror’s tense state from the pinprick of an eye light. “Wake up little duck….”
Dream stirred, soft chirps escaping him, eyes opening to fuzzy eyelights.
“Hi… We’re here…..” Cross smiled, unclicking his seatbelt and doing the same for Dream, picking him up and getting out. “Do you think you can-... Dream…”
The duckling opened his eyes again, with very slow blinks. “Mmmm….. What….?..”
“Hehe… Come on… let’s get some food… I brought chocolate…”
Dream smiled, wings fluttering as he woke up properly. Everyone got out of the van, smiling at the location. Killer stretched his wings as he yawned. Not due to boredom, just due to lack of sleep lately. He had been dealing with issues of his own. It had started back at the castle.
“Hey Killer?”
“Yeah Dust?”
“Did you know a group of crows is called a murder?”
“...........”
“K-Killer?- !! KILLER NO DO NOT GET THE KNIFE THAT IS NOT WHAT I MEANT!!”
“A CROW IS CALLED A MURDER!!”
“NO, A GROUP OF CROWS!!”
And cue the 3rd broken table.
The 2nd was broken because of a fight between Killer and Cross…. Dream’s therapy session did almost nothing to quell the bickering it seemed.
Killer’s mind was on something else for a moment. Outer. How he had been beaten… by Outer. All because he thought the purple wings of the starling winged skeleton were distractingly pretty-
And there he goes again, making himself depressed. It had been that way since a week prior when the fight in Outertale happened. Error and Nightmare had tried their best to help him, but it wasn’t really any use. His bird instinct was really getting to him. But there was 1 funny perk to all this…
“Hey, Killer!” Dust called, having gone back to normal. “You coming? We’re having s’mores.”
“Say no more!” Killer smiled, rushing over, his wings ruffled.
And this is part 2! Part 3 coming later. (This is going to be a series if you couldn't tell lmao-)
Links:
OSD Chapter 1: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28674579/chapters/70296039
OSD and OSD Cursed Slippers belong to @calcium-cat
3 notes · View notes
coconutdays · 6 months
Text
going crazy
Tumblr media
s. your boyfriend, handsome and secure suguru geto, doesn't get jealous
w.c. 4.8k
w. fem! reader, biker!geto! x reader , fluff!, smut!
a/n: based on my seat taker biker!geto au! also I feel this does not live up to seat taker! but I tried my best! so I hope you can still enjoy! likes reblogs and comments r always appreciated to know y’all liked it!!!
your boyfriend does not have a single jealous bone in his body. it’s convenient you suppose?
you’ve heard nightmares of insecure men who have to know where there girlfriends are every second of every hour, the direction they’re even going to utter a breath in. the occasional story of a girl who can’t speak to any men whatsoever because her boyfriend will berate her for doing so. 
although you do always keep suguru in the loop about what you’re doing and don’t really talk to guys because at the end of the day, more often than not, they always do not plan on just being your friend, he never expected those things out of you. It was a silent form of showing your respect for him. and he did the same out of instinct too, first too. 
but aside from that, he doesn’t show any jealousy.
there was a time he even tried to set you up with toji zenin when he was still crushing on you. 
your boyfriend is a little peculiar, you’re very well aware of that, but you find his confidence in himself sexy. because you couldn’t look anywhere else if you wanted to. he was handsome, his face chiseled so prettily it was painful. his smooth voice that always had you reeling to get him to talk more. and his spine tattoo that always made you blush at the sight of it befriending your scratch marks after a particularly rough night, 
so you don’t care about the way you dress, because he won’t control what you wear. in fact, it’s one of the things you both love about each other, a recent discovery now that you’ve been dating for a month. suguru is an avid fan of the way you dress, relishing in what new outfit he’ll see you in whenever he sees you that day, and if not possible, asking for a picture. and you love how he loves it. appreciating the fact that he loves when you wear booby shirts to campus or dates with him or particularly tight jeans that attract eyes aside from his, but are worn for the sole purpose of serving cunt–and riling your boyfriend up.
it all comes together to why you wear the dress you do tonight to go clubbing with him and some friends. it’s honestly the hottest thing suguru will have seen you in so far. yes, your previous halloween costumes were something alright, but this…was different. halloween was like a month ago and the outfits for those events were meant to be slutty, purely slutty. this look was meticulously planned by you the moment you ordered the dress online. the sheer dress and its sparkles had been running across your mind that entire week of shipping with the perfect sultry way you planned to do your hair and makeup. 
you 
hey can we carpool later tonight, my dress isnt motorcycle proof :/
suguru
sure princess.  can i get a peek?
you
don’t feel like it hehe wait for it sugu <3
suguru
tease
any other time, he would’ve more than likely have gotten his peek at your outfit, you are weak to his demands naturally, but this was something he genuinely would have to wait for. pictures would not do you justice and you wanted to catch your boyfriends raw reaction when he saw the look for the first time . 
and you were right.
when he went up to your apartment to pick you up and you opened the door, the reaction was worth the wait. the constant warmth your boyfriend’s gaze always held fell the moment his eyes landed on you and took a moment to breathe you in. 
you saw his pupils dart to your cleavage first, staring for a hard second, then to the tightness against your waist and hips bringing attention to your figure. the small quirk of his eyebrow seconds within that let you know he spotted the thong hugging your body under the sheer dress. he did a once over of your legs, looking at what shoes you were wearing, before he brought his eyes up to look at your face again.
he doesn’t say anything, instantly moving forward and getting rid of the space between the both of you to take your head in his hands and plant his lips on yours. you press a hand against his chest when you feel him swipe his tongue across the top of your mouth so hungrily. 
“you’re going to kiss off my lipgloss sugu.” you giggle, heaving a little as you press your forehead against his, blinking up happily at him. 
his stare is firm as his blown up pupils stare back into you, “sorry pretty girl, couldn’t help myself.”
“and why’s that hm?” you bite your lip through your smile, eagerly waiting for his answer, still forehead to forehead with him, his hands still holding you in place.
his hair is in that half up half down duo you go so feral for, you realize this detail when he says, “you know why.”
“no I don’t,” you drag on, a teasing lilt in your voice
“because,” he drags one of his hands down to caress your neck softly with his thumb, you can see a slight crease in his eyelids at your playfulness, “my girlfriend is trying to get away with first degree murder right now.”
“you like the dress?” you give him a toothy smile and you can slightly catch his gaze turn hungry at the sight of it
suguru suddenly raises you up by clasping his arms behind you, below your butt and on your thigh, so you’re above him when he looks at you lovingly, “like is an understatement.”
“well i like your hair today,” you compliment him, still giggly
“yeah?” he smiles, “i’m glad.”
Tumblr media
it’s your first time ever going to the club with suguru, so there’s some sort of powerful feeling lingering when you enter the loud building holding hands with him. you’re going in belonging to someone and so is he, as opposed to other people going in and hoping to catch a body tonight or at least a good grind on the dancefloor–satoru cough cough.
the white haired maniac’s influence gets all of you a vip table with liquor already waiting for you and when you get there, suguru sits and plants you on his lap, arms loosely wrapped around your waist.
It’s when you look forward, you see toji zenin give you a quick once over from where he’s seated near satoru. and you ignore it, you always do. he’s never made an advance on you ever since you and suguru became a thing, he’s respectful of the relationship, but his eyes can never lie, he’s into you. it’s why you’ve never uttered a word to him and why he doesn’t either. and you can’t really blame him if the purpose of tonight's look was to turn all heads, not just your boyfriend’s.
“you smell good baby,” suguru mutters into your ear as he brushes a hair away from your face, “are you using the perfume i got you?”
you wrap your arms around his shoulders when you respond with a nod of your head and, “yeah. I finally ran out of my old one.”
“good girl.” he smiles appreciatively before placing a tender kiss on your neck
the softness of it makes you giggle a little and crane your neck a little, suguru pinches your side to tease you for it. 
it’s when a certain lullaby of a song comes on that your ears perk up and your boyfriend observes the reaction, looking up at you and rubbing circles into your waist, “what’s up baby?”
within an instant all the girls at your table begin to get up and rush to the dance floor and you turn to suguru, already starting to unwrap his arms from your waist.
“i have to go dance this babe,” you say hurriedly, like a little kid leaving their mom the moment they see the bouncy castle go up.
suguru can say nothing before he watches you run off to join the other girls on the dance floor, eyebrows raised in amusement at your antics then in reaction to your immediate inclination to start dancing. 
you look pretty, he thinks as he reaches over to serve himself a glass of whiskey. 
and he continues to think it as he ‘talks’ to his friends, nodding and giving small mhms when all he’s really doing is watching you live it up at the center of the club. 
you’re ethereal, the only star in that murky puddle of bodies. maybe your dress is part of the reason for all that shine and glow you’re giving off, but nothing beats the pretty little smile on your face that says you’re having a good time. it’s turning him on to be honest. he always wants to shove himself inside of you when you bear that toothy smile at him. 
and other people think the same, he notes. 
he’s always seen the stares, he knows you’re a sight to behold. there hasn’t been a day where he isn’t aware that so many other people want you. he knew it when you were merely the smart, hot girl he had a crush on his lit class, with so many other guys obviously paying a little more attention when it was your turn to speak, and he knows it even more now with your male following on social media and the way he constantly gets sized up just for being next to you. for fuck's sake he's heard toji zenin talk about how bad you are before he knew about your thing with suguru at the halloween party, hell, he still catches the frat president unable to control the way his eyes eat you up when you're near.
“done already?” satoru asks haughtily when he sees all of the girls that went to dance come back heaving a little
it’s been an hour since they all left at the start of that first song.
“y/n’s still there though,” one of them breathes, taking satoru’s drink from him, “she does not stop.”
“yeah, she doesn’t,” suguru laughs a little, looking back at you, still as energetic as when you first got there.
fuck, you're beautiful.
speaking of before,
he’s painfully more aware of it when he notices the number of eyes gravitating towards you from the dancefloor, tables, and the bar.
it’s like a bunny in a room full of wolves. or those scenes where scooby and shaggy are in a dark room and a thousand red eyes pop up to blink at them. the eyes to you ratio is beginning to get a little mind boggling now that he sees it in a real life setting. this is not the handful of guys checking you out when you go to the library with him or the nth guy staring at you when you walk past with your boyfriend next to you. this is a huge club with you in the middle and catching the eye of almost every guy in here, most of whom come to this place with plans of taking a girl home or putting moves on her. 
the thought manifests itself when a blonde frat bro walks up to you and tries to dance with you. suguru’s heart stops a little for some reason. he’s seen guys come up to you before, actually talking to you and trying to get your number, so he shouldn’t feel this irked when he knows the guy is going to be disappointed by your answer. he actually wants to go up to the guy and beat his face in.
the surge of pride that courses through his body is immense when he sees you put a hand between you and the guy and you make an annoyed face, all before strutting off and making your way back to the table. 
he manspreads a little more for you to sit between his legs, draping one arm on your thigh, the other holding onto his whiskey.
“a guy tried to dance with me,” you huff when you sit down, reaching for suguru’s drink, which he hands over without a second thought, now using the other free hand to fully hug you.
“I saw,” he says, perching his chin your shoulder, watching as you take a sip of the whiskey and cradle the cup in your hands.
“dance with me,” you turn to look at him and pout, “i don’t want guys coming up to me.”
“but you look so good rejecting them.” suguru teases, smirking a little at you
when your face deapans, he laughs and hugs you tighter, “we’ll go in a bit. rest your pretty feet for a second, don’t want them to tire out.”
“okay,” you slump into his hold, pouting
Tumblr media
and suguru did keep his promise, like always. he took you dancing after a few minutes of rest and letting you drink the rest of his whiskey.
he protected you from any other guys trying to come up to you, evident in the way no guys even dared get close from a ten feet radius.
he kept you close and let you dance with him, hands appreciatively holding onto you when you pressed your body against his. it was much different to the dancing from that first time at satoru’s party, he was really holding onto you this time. his hands always found your ass, your hips, even the underside of your boobs during every second of every song.
and suguru isn’t a jealous guy, so it was a little weird to you when you saw him notice a guy oogling you and he immediately pulled you in to makeout with him on the dancefloor. it was unlike any other makeout session you had ever had with him before. he was gripping your ass while his other hand held your neck, that wasn’t new, he always did that, but his energy about it was so…all consuming. 
all you know, is that instantly had you horny and you couldn’t help the mewl you let out after he squeezed you in his hold.
“let’s go,” he spoke a bit tensely into your ear so you could hear him past the music.
and you were never one to go against him because everything suguru did always made sense and worked for you, so you nodded mindlessly and said, “okay.”
Tumblr media
when you got to suguru’s apartment, he immediately pushed you against the door and resumed the makeout session he had started at the club. one of his hands was planted against the door while the other roughly gripped your waist to keep you close to him. 
“If you ever see toji, i want you to run the other direction,” he spoke ominously against your lips
the command had you furrowing your eyebrows, you mean of course yes you'd do that, but you never would’ve thought he’d ask it from you. he never really cared to address your actions when it came towards other guys. suguru wasn’t ever jealous…nonetheless, you agree meekly, taken aback by his roughness, “okay.”
all your boyfriend did in response was let out a gruff sound of acknowledgement before pressing his body further against yours and beginning to tug your dress off. he started by pushing down the straps, then pushing the upper half down, including your strapless bra until your tits popped out. 
he pushed both of them together the moment they peeked out and then let a glob of spit drop down onto one of your nipples rather obscenely before he went down to mouth at that same breast. it had you keening, you could feel your thong becoming nonexistent with the way you were starting to drench through it.
a bite from suguru had you squeaking before he continued his ministrations on your other breast while his hands worked on pushing the rest of your dress all the way down, even your thong since it caught onto the tight material of the dress.
you were left completely naked in front of him now and he manhandled you by suddenly picking you up and pinning you against the wall next to the door. he let one hand hold one of your legs to his waist, while the other went under and quickly swiped a finger across your folds with ease due to the wetness
“so easy baby,” he muttered against your lips before plunging a finger all the way in and curving it upwards
“you’re being mean,” you complain, feeling completely flustered at his brash actions
“what’s so mean about making you feel good hm?” he leans back to get a good look at you when he plunges another finger in and starts to push them in and out quickly, watching as your eyebrows knit and you start to mewl, “atta girl.”
“nothing,” you mumble, brainless as you wrap your arms around his neck and hook him in closer with your legs, “ow!”
he started adding a third finger when he felt like you were starting to open up more, however your small complaint started dying into a moan when he increased his pace with the third finger. 
“that’s a lot sugu,” you heave through delirious breaths, flustered at the fact that he was staring so intensely at how you were sucking him in
your comment had him finally looking up at you and you dont know if you’d rather he go back to staring at your pussy, because he was giving that same intense stare to you now. the all heavy pressure of his gaze was entirely being directed at your own eyes now, and how could you meet that same gaze equally when he was three fingers into you and making you moan like a slut.
suguru might have granted you a quick mercy when he leaned against you, quickening the pace of his fingers so you could get louder, and breathed into your ear, muttering lowly, “my cock’s a lot more than three fingers but you always cream all over it.”
the dirty sentence has you pulling suguru closer to you, and trying to trap him where he was so you wouldn’t have to look at him in the flustered state he put you in. but your boyfriend didn’t have it, forcing himself out of your grip, and craning his neck back to go back to looking at you.
he pulled out all three of fingers just to land a sharp slap across your pussy before plunging all of them into you again, “let me watch you baby. be good for me, okay?”
he honestly expects you to be able to answer him when three of his very large fingers are stretching you wide open and curling on that one spot that always has you crumbling, you know he expects you to because he turns his head a little when you don’t answer and lands another slap before going back to fingering you.
“speak up princess,” he orders so easily and so sweetly, like he’s not torturing your body right now
and you do your best to force the words out of you, legs quivering and resisting the urge to writhe in his grasp when you gasp, “ok–okay.”
“good girl,” he almost groans with a snarl as he suddenly stops fingering you open and hoists you over his shoulder, a squeal leaves your mouth at the action.
he’s walking you both to his bedroom, you notice from the path of his hallway made out from your view, and the realization doesn’t last long before suguru brings you down again, then pushes you down and bends you over his bed. he lands a slap to your ass and you can makeout the rustle of him getting naked when he says softly, “grab the pillows and put them under your stomach angel.”
and you listen, reaching easily for both of his large and fluffy pillows, and putting them under your abdomen.
you feel suguru’s heavy length press against your ass and bare pussy when he presses up against you, gripping onto the crease between your thighs and ass, and starts mouthing hot and heavy kisses across your spine. you whine a complaint at the fact that you feel so good, but you know you could feel so much better if he just put it in already.
“what?” suguru notices the pitch that you always make when you’re complaining, continuing his line of affection down your spine
“put it in,” you pout, wiggling your ass for emphasis and hissing a little when you feel his cock graze your lips at the action
suguru gives a last kiss to the bottom of your spine before coming back up and grabbing a fistful of your hair and bringing your head up so he could look at you, “how bad do you want it?”
“really bad sugu.” you mewl, feeling gratification from the sting of his hold on you
“you want me to fill up your little hole? even when we both know you’re gonna start crying that it’s beating your pussy up, yeah?” he questions cruelly 
“mhm,” you nod pathetically, “even if i do.”
his lips twitch a little at your admission and he yanks on your hair a little harder when he lands a sloppy kiss on your lips that has a string of saliva connecting both of your mouths when he pulls away.
he stands back up and lands another stinging slap across your ass, groaning, “my pretty fuckin ass.”
as if he couldn’t get any dirtier, suguru then grabs either of your cheeks and spreads them apart to get a good view of your sex, the sudden exposure of which makes you feel even wetter. that last fact seems of no use to suguru when you feel a large glob of spit land and run down your hole.
you suck in breath when you feel suguru start to rub his tip across your folds.
“sloppy little pussy,” he mutters before pressing into you. and you both groan when he starts to inch himself in even further.
the moan you let out when he completely pulled out and slammed back in was sinful and the noises that followed when he started doing that again and again at a faster pace without mercy had you outright screaming. 
you felt like you were constantly breathless, constantly trying to breathe. he hadn’t ever been this hard on you before.
and you thought you knew what hard was from him before.
“i know, i know,” he whispered against your neck when he pressed himself down against you and started jackhammering even closer to your cervix, so on point with your gspot too that you felt your orgasm starting to build up
a particular gutteral squeal from you had him breathing a “so cute” while he never relented his brutish force against you
“sugu–sugu,” you reached around for one of his arms, heaving, grabbing onto it while he violently moved the both of you, “i’m gonna–mmm–i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum!”
the confession had suguru suddenly changing positions, hooking his arms up and under your armpits to pull you up to stand flush against his body while he slammed up against you ferociously. it unexpectedly had your high crashing against you after a graze of your gspot.
“that’s it baby, that’s it.” suguru consoled when he felt you twitch in his hold and your juices dripping all over his abdomen and cock, “such a good fucking girl.”
all you wanted to do was fall down and rest, but the most you could muster was letting your body go limp in your boyfriend’s unrelenting hold, letting him use you as he pleased.
“ ‘s too much sugu,” you whined as the overstimulation started kicking in
It didn’t get him to stop at all.
“remember what you said earlier hm?” he brought up, breathing heavy as he lifted a foot up to plant it against the edge of the bed. it was leverage for the scream worthy pace he started forcing on you now.
tears started to fall down your cheeks at the overstimulation. it was so good, too good. It was all so sinfully good. 
you felt your walls start to flutter again at your second nearing orgasm when you sniffled from the tears. and although your boyfriend still evilly abused your pussy, he leaned down and moved your face to the side with one hand so he could be face to face with you. 
you thought he was going to kiss you, but instead he started licking your tears off.
it was the catalyst for your orgasm and you thrashed rather hard against suguru, who you could feel suck in a breath at the sporadic clenches of your pussy.
“fuck,” he breathed harshly, pulling you even tighter against him to more easily meet his thrusts and you could feel his cock twitch as a symptom of his incoming orgasm.
that, and he started to speak up filthily.
“Mine–mine–mine–mine.” he reiterated quickly, punctuating each time with a thrust, “fuck ‘s all mine. god can’t get enough of you pretty baby. so fucking slutty and pretty. fuck–fuck–next time i see toji giving you heart eyes im gonna pump my cum inside you so he can see it running down your fucking legs. fuck–you like that baby? what–a–good–good–fucking–girl. tell me you want that baby.”
scrambling for any piece of sanity just to tell your boyfriend what he wants to hear, in hopes of spurring his lust, you moan out weakly, “i want it sugu i want it.”
“yeah? you want him to see me dripping out of your pretty fuckin pussy? god–i fucking–want–it. he’ll never get to fucking know what it’s like to cream this little hole.”
“so–so dirty sugu,” you moan sheepishly at the embarrassing realization that he might just make you cum a third time because of the added spur of his pussy drunk words. 
“pussy’s fucking dirty,” snarls back at you, pulling you closer to him, “can feel you clenching around me. know you fucking like it.”
the shut down of his words had you shaking in attraction to his ability to shut you up like no other.
“never–forget–you’re–mine,” he thrusts through, “ ‘s fucking pussy, your ass, your tits, your body, your pretty fucking face, ‘s all mine. you don’t need anybody but me. i’m yours i’m yours i’m yours. ‘s dick ‘s all yours, everything, baby. take it–take it–take it.” 
his breathing was starting to get heavier and you could feel his abs start twitching against you, a sign of his orgasm building up just as yours was all over again.
so it surprised you when suguru pulled out and threw you onto the bed, your legs hanging off the edge before he picked them up and slanted them up against his body by hugging them close. “come here, come here,” he quickly let one arm go for a second to guide himself into you again before wrapping it around your legs again. he repositioned the one leg of his back on top of the bed for his leverage and leaned forward a bit to go back to his brutal thrusts. 
“wanna see your face when you cum again.” he muttered as he stared at you squealing and moaning lewdly at his ministrations
suguru started kissing and mouthing at your calves while keeping you in a deadlock of eye contact. his cheeks and ears were tinged pink and his hair had fallen out of the half up half down do he had it in earlier. 
the worshipping of your legs and eye contact had to have been the last straw for you, because after a certain lick of your skin, you started crashing, feeling yourself let go across the entire lower half of your boyfriend, resisting the urge to cover your face in embarrassment because he recently made it a point that he really really liked seeing your face when you came.
the point was proven when he followed soon after you, thrusting half haphazardly into you as he blew his load inside of you in time with every squeeze of your cunt. it was accompanied by a litter of painful bites across your calves and heavy breathing from your boyfriend. he looked like he came hard, it felt like he did, considering how every spurt of his cum was sharply thrusted into you, making you wince in pain every time his tip kissed your cervix.
both of you were breathing heavily after, especially suguru, his skin covered in a thicker veil of sweat than you, who was simply taking all of that force he was exerting. he was still holding onto your legs, resting his forehead on the bare skin of your foot that wasn’t covered by your heel. 
his eyes were closed and he licked his lips, a bit tired, as he spoke, “i think i do get jealous after all, i’m sorry.”
his confession made you slightly clench around him, making him suck a breath in at the sensitivity while you breathlessly giggled, “that’s okay, i never said you couldn’t.”
suguru lazily bit your calf again as a sign of retaliation, "you could sound less excited."
11K notes · View notes
kiwisbell · 7 months
Text
Honey-Do [joel miller]
Tumblr media
It’s Sunday, chore day, and Joel has a honey-do list item of his own: get his girl pregnant.
my masterlist!
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
rating: 18+ (mdni)
tags and warnings: pre-outbreak joel, married!joel, pure fluff and smut, slight au, body worship, some cock worship, handyman!joel, malewife!joel, joel “my wife doesn’t lift a finger in this home” miller, vague daddy undertones, overstimulation, joel miller is a munch, oral sex (m and f receiving), unprotected PIV (wrap it up unless you’re joel), creampie, breeding kink, actual breeding, talks of pregnancy, pregnancy kink, domestic bliss, joel’s love language being acts of service and by that i mean putting a baby in his wife, competence kink
word count: ~ 10k (someone stop me)
read on ao3!
a/n: hello, lovelies!! i received this ask ages ago and the idea inevitably snowballed because who is self-control?? does she go to a different school? anyway, this fic is pure plotless domestic fluff and domestic smut (is that a thing? yes!), so i really hope you all enjoy! pre-outbreak joel is very special to me xoxo
Tumblr media
HONEY-DO
Your shared bedroom looks out over the eastern sunrise. A mutually-assured vigil, keeping one another safe—and timely. 
In the mornings, the golden light spills through the break in the curtains. It will peek slowly inside and gently warm your body awake, testing the limits of its power. When you roll over and make a soft groan of protest in your sleep, seeking more warmth, the little strip of sunlight will widen, directing you. You will find the body next to yours, nuzzling close, your nose bumping his bare chest, and settle happily against it. In return, his body will seek yours, symbiotic exchange, a greedy arm pulling you closer.
In frustration, the sun grumbles it way higher in the sky, shining brighter and spreading wider.
It takes a couple tries to get it right: to shine in just the right way to make you blink rapidly awake, squinting in the glow. You gradually come to life, your lungs sucking in the first deep breath of morning air, your naked body stretching like a cat in the sunspot. Dust hovers lazily in the air, heralding a Sunday occupied by chores. The room is still, silent, and kissed by morning rays. Peaceful.
You examine him in the light: tanned skin sparkling gold, plush lips slightly parted, broad chest rising and falling. His hair is pleasantly tousled from sleep. There are patches of silver beginning to thread through his dark brown beard, and in your self-sustaining state of affection, you gently put your lips to one of the patches of skin where hair does not grow. 
Your persistence grows with every second he refuses to wake. It may be a bit petulant, your lips smattering soft kisses across his jaw, beneath his ear, down to his neck and all its veins, but it begins to work. He stirs, groaning softly, turning onto his side and wrapping both arms around your waist. He does all of this without opening his eyes, resting his head on your belly and nuzzling against you as if he could get any closer—sated, for now, his body knowing nothing but the pull toward you. 
You comb your fingers through his messy hair and listen to him breathe while he listens to your heartbeat. 
“It’s ten,” you whisper.
“Hmph,” he says against your belly. He hasn’t opened his eyes yet; if you didn’t know his breathing patterns like they were mapped out in the lines of your palms, you would think he’s still sleeping. 
“We slept in,” you point out. 
Joel gently bumps his forehead into your stomach as if he were banging his head against a wall. “Shit,” he grumbles. 
You laugh as his moustache tickles your skin. “Do you want to get up now?”
Another grunt, accompanied by a shake of his head. Big, strong arms pull you closer. 
“I’ll make you breakfast,” you coo, stroking his hair away from his face. “Eggs… bacon… coffee…”
Joel presses his lips to your belly. “Don’t go takin’ my job, now,” he says, his voice groggy with disuse. “No girl of mine’s gonna run around gettin’ her own damn coffee.”
“Hmm. Means you have to move, Romeo.” 
This earns a playful smack to the side of your thigh, his big, callused hand kneading your flesh while he wakes himself up with mouthfuls of your scent—linen and vanilla—and gulps down the sunlight glowing on your skin. 
“Never mind,” you sigh, dreamy and complacent under his attention. 
His eyes finally crack open, peering up at you, honey-brown pools touched by the golden light. He rests his chin on your belly and keeps his arms wrapped around your hips. His fingers trace shapes up and down your lower back. “You got a honey-do list?” he asks with a crooked grin.
Your tongue wets your bottom lip. “That depends. Can I get you to mow the lawn without a shirt on?”
“What do I get if I do?” he teases, his hand moving to your hip, contouring his hand to the shape of you. 
You lift a brow, easing your legs apart underneath his body, letting him feel the warmth between your thighs. Like a moth to the goddamn flame, his eyes wide and eager, Joel crawls down your body with his mouth on your belly. Pausing just above your naked cunt, he blows cool air onto your clit and watches you squirm. 
“After,” you gasp. “After chores, honey. We’ll never get up if we start now.”
“Don’t think I can make my woman come in good time?” he challenges, his palms keeping your thighs spread. Your pretty pussy glistens before his eyes, better than any fuckin’ breakfast. He begins to salivate.
Your head falls back into the pillows. “I never said that.”
Joel isn’t listening anymore. He kneads your thighs as he peers at you above your belly, your tits, to the curve of your jaw as you lie comfortably. Good. His baby ain’t about to get herself worked up on a Sunday morning. 
He lowers his face just enough to let you feel his lashes tickling your lower belly, and you giggle his name, the sound pure adrenaline to his blood. You're so soft and supple under his fingers, moulding to his touch, letting him take care of you. You may be in charge of him, but this is where he takes control. 
He presses a soft kiss to your clit and you sigh, your head turning toward the direction of the sun. It warms your face while your husband slides his tongue through your wet slit, lazily and sleepily, as though he's operating on instinct alone. Gathering up your wetness on his tongue, he groans, his fingers dimpling your thighs. 
“Taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he murmurs. “Fuckin’ made for me.”
“Oh, God,” you whisper, your eyes fluttering. “Baby…”
That sweet little whine is poison. He cannot do anything but continue to drink you down, flicking his tongue against your clit. He's a sucker and he's always been. Your pretty fuckin’ smile from across the bar that first night; your tight black dress and the too-sweet cocktail you smooth-talked him into ordering that had his adenoids prickling; your instinct for sensing others’ troubles and your uncanny ability to make them feel like they have none at all. He never stood a chance. 
He knows for a goddamn fact every man in the bar that night wanted to do to you what Joel is doing now: lapping up your juices with his tongue, spit mingling with arousal, warming his body between your thighs under the watch of the mid-morning sun. But he got you. Joel. He bought you a drink and he took you on a date. He got to taste your pretty pussy and he got to sit you on his dick—after the second date, that is. 
He's the one who gets to wake up with you, share matching gold bands around your fingers, kiss you freely. As far as he's concerned, he's the luckiest guy on the fuckin’ planet. 
He feels particularly green when your back arches, your lips parting around his name, relishing in the feeling of his mouth on your clit. You're unashamed to take pleasure, never shy about telling him Oh, fuck, yes! Right there, honey! Joel, yes, that feels so good, baby. 
Joel preens with pride. His hot tongue glides over your clit, smooth and wet, easily coaxing you to a languid high. The golden spotlight through the curtains shines on you. You're the starlet and he's the adoring fan. From the first day, he knew he'd do anything to make you notice him. 
“This wasn’t your first bar fight, was it?”
Plucking pieces of glass out of his bloodied knuckles, you looked up through your lashes at Joel, who had been staring at you since you sat him down in the bathroom. Okay—a little longer than that. 
He shook his head. 
You just smiled at him and gently shook your head. About as much reproach as he would get. “This might sting. Just hold on tight if you need to.” 
“Like the sound of that,” he said quietly, and if you heard, you didn't comment. You guided his hand under the warm water and washed the rest of the blood from his knuckles, gently smoothing the pads of your fingers over his rough worker’s hands. Capable, you thought, idly watching the blood swirl into the drain. He barely winced when you put his hand under. 
“Wanna tell me why you did it?” you asked him, your tone soothing and sweet. 
Joel shrugged. Big, broad shoulders. Humbly strong, until someone made him show it. “Ain't manly to touch a woman like that.”
You lifted your brows. “But it's manly to beat the shit out of the guy who touched her?”
Joel studied your face. Cherry-red lip gloss. Gently flushed cheeks from a healthy couple drinks. The instinctual rise and fall of your chest as you breathed, the lighting shifting gently over your collarbones. It was fascinating just to watch you breathe. Even cleaning his bloody knuckles, you slowly circled the pad of your thumb over the back of his hand, like an innate urge to comfort. Your eyes had an old wisdom to them; a particular gleam a person gained when they were familiar with the hardships life had to offer. 
He wanted to ask you. He wanted to know everything. He wanted to do more than beat up some asshole who thought he could get away with pinching your ass. 
But he would earn it. A real man earned what he got. 
“Didn’t beat the shit out of him. Just roughed him up,” he says. 
He watched you bite down on a smile. “You're a little twisted, Joel.”
“Yeah?” He smirked, eyes flicking to your dewy lips, coated with that gloss. “Think so?”
“Yeah.” You licked your bottom lip and he wondered if you tasted like cherries. “But I'm going to ask you on a date anyway.”
Your fingers curl in Joel’s messy hair, making him groan into your pussy. “Oh, baby,” you gasp, cracking your heavy eyes open to watch him lap at you, practically petting his hair away from his face as his big brown eyes remain fixed to yours. 
He purrs, suckling your clit between his lips, his eyes eagerly drinking in the sight of your flushed, tightening body. Making you come is one thing. Watching it is another. Your back arches and your fingers pull on his hair. Scalp prickling, Joel grips your thighs tighter. He’d let you peel away pounds of his flesh if it made you happy. He’d go eagerly to the grave knowing he had put some good into the world, put some light in your eyes. 
“Joel, I’m… I’m coming—ah!” you cry, your thighs squeezing his head, your sensitive clit pulsing under his tongue as your pussy contracts around itself, seeking something nice and big to grasp onto. His cock is aching, his hips grinding idly against the mattress for relief, his head fuzzy from the pleasure of making you feel good. Your body slowly melts into the bed, your limbs twitching as the tension in your muscles loosens, your lips parted permanently around his name. 
Eyes drooping and teary, you try to find him between your thighs, gently stroking his hair away from his face as it begins to fall into his big brown eyes. “Need a haircut,” you croak.
Joel hums, his head listing to the side, using your soft thigh as a pillow. He nips you playfully, your skin a golden path he intends to follow to the end. His hands caress your hips, helping you come down to Earth. You admire the delectable convex slope of his nose, the way it curves deliciously against your skin when he kisses, bites, inhales. He’s freckled and indented with the signifiers of a lived-in life; a good life. His is a likeness you could trace with your eyes closed. 
It’s eleven o’clock, and your stomach begins to grumble. 
Joel chuckles, pressing a long kiss to your belly. “Gettin’ up now,” he says. “Promise.”
He pulls on a pair of sweatpants, tucking his hard cock away to be dealt with later. Padding down the stairs, Joel is quick to tend to your needs, putting on a fresh pot of coffee. After so long together, his mind operates on autopilot, steering him from the cupboard to the refrigerator and back to the steaming pot, occupied with the menial task of making a good cup. The gentle clinking scrape of the spoon as he stirs your milk into the cup wakes him up until he feels practically revitalised. He keeps his coffee black.
He hears the soft tread of your feet behind him, feels the warmth of your body as you crowd his space, smiles at the way you smooth your palms over the planes of his muscled back in unadulterated admiration. His shoulders are wide, tapering down to the soft belly you’ve nurtured through years of cooking. He’s sturdy and strong and all yours. The sight of him always makes you a bit giddy. 
“So handsome,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his middle and pressing your face between his shoulder blades. The buffed claws of his woodsy pine scent hook into the spaces between your ribs. 
Joel lifts your hand to his mouth and kisses the wedding band on your finger, the engagement ring above it. “Sit down, baby. Coffee’s ready.”
You grin against his back, nudging your nose into his tanned skin. “Mmm. That sounds good. But I wanna stay here. ‘s nice and warm.” 
“Girl of my dreams,” Joel murmurs, reaching around his back and patting your ass. “C’mon, I’ll keep you warm.”
You grumble your way to the little circular table in the kitchen, tucked into the alcove at the front window. It’s a souvenir from your parents' garage sale when they decided to sell their home and move to Austin. As a girl, you’d draw, scratch, and paint on that table, endlessly entertaining yourself by marking things up. Even now, there are remnants of your childhood in the worn grooves and chipped varnish. It fits nicely into your home, perfectly suited to two. It could even fit one more. 
You ruminate as you watch Joel carry two mugs to the table. He knows which cup is your favourite: green ceramic decorated with tiny flowers, perfectly contoured to the shape and size of your hands, warming your palms just nicely between sips. Joel’s mug shows its age: white but slightly yellowed from years of use, bigger than yours. The steam of the coffee gently curls into the air, a dance of silvery ribbons in lock-step. They twist together as you purse your lips and blow. The rich, smooth caramel hue of your coffee contrasts the tar-black of Joel’s. 
Since you dragged yourself out of bed on shaky legs, you shrugged on the navy T-shirt he tossed aside last night to give his greedy wife access to his chest. You'd carved some decent marks into his skin, now that you're properly looking: tiny bruises sharpening to purple, faint pinkish scratch marks that you don't remember making. 
“Baby, I don’t mind,” he says, watching you scan his chest with a frown creasing your brow. 
“But it looks painful, honey. You should let me—”
“You don’t gotta do anything,” says Joel, “‘cept come over here.”
Your brows lift coyly, your body sliding out of the chair and into his lap, legs bracketing his strong thighs. His hand finds a home on your lower back, bunching the hem of his shirt up to find your ass bare, your wet cunt sitting nice and pretty on his hard cock. You gasp when the generous length meets your puffy clit with heavy pressure. “Joel…” 
Your voice is a mere whimper, a soft little plea for more, or for mercy. Joel’s always had better restraint than you. 
“Warmer now?” he asks, like a real arrogant asshole, slipping his hand under the shirt on your body and splaying his fingers over your ribcage, thumb grazing the underside of your breast. 
You do feel warmer, crushed up against him like this. You reach behind you and grab your coffee mug, taking a small sip. Your other hand winds around his neck and scratches the tousled hair at the nape of his neck. Joel hums, leaning close, nuzzling his face between your tits. 
“Gimme the list,” he says, voice muffled. 
You keep on stroking his hair and drinking your coffee between list items. “Mow the lawn. Clean out the eavestrough. Fix the sink.”
“Hmm, easy work,” he says, his other hand sliding up and down your back. It makes you melt into him even more, giving him the chance to tease a nipple between his teeth through the fabric of your shirt. You huff, wiggling your hips, but he's a brick wall. He does not budge. “Gimme yours, baby.”
You recall the items on your own list. “Vacuum the house. Go for groceries. Touch up the paint on the front door. Do the laundry. Cook dinner. Cut your hair,” you add with a playful smile. 
Joel frowns against your chest, pulling back to look up into your eyes like a grumpy, needy dog. “You put all that down for yourself?”
You try to placate him with a kiss on his nose. “You work so hard, sweetie. I could use some hard labour once in a while.”
Joel shakes his head. “You aren’t doin’ all that by yourself.”
“No?” You lift your brows. “Wanna buy it off me, Mr. Miller?”
“I’ll win ‘em from you,” he says, tilting his head back to kiss your jaw. “Name the price.”
You bite your lip and chase his mouth, plush and soft under that dark moustache. “I’ll think on that. Meantime, you can get to work on that lawn while I watch from the comfort of the front porch. That sound fair?”
Joel’s old Southern values rear up every now and then, imparted by his mother and his father’s mother before. Putting in an honest day’s work will make his wife comfortable and happy. He doesn't want you lifting a finger around this home if he's perfectly capable of doing the job himself. He works with his hands all day, gets dirty and sweaty. You shouldn't have to—not when you work so damn hard every other day of the week. 
Joel nips your chin. “Fine. But I ain’t gonna forget that I owe you.”
“Wouldn't dream of it, baby.”
Joel finishes his coffee, but you take your time with yours, changing into a short blue sundress while Joel, regrettably, puts a pair of jeans and a shirt on. Curling your legs up on the porch swing, you watch your man start the lawnmower, enthralled by the rippling of his back muscles with every pull. You know that some of it’s for show—knowing you're watching makes him want to impress you. Sometimes, he's still the man with the teenaged crush on the girl, doing everything he can and going out of his way to make you smile. It works. 
He’s methodical: making lines up and down the lawn, shearing away the too-long blades of grass under the motor. As sweat begins to bloom under his collar and his brow, he wipes his forehead with his forearm and you lick your lips, saliva pooling in your mouth at the thought of running your tongue all over his strong, naked body. Jesus. You finish off your coffee and force your eyes away from your husband for a moment. It isn't too hot from where you sit on the wraparound porch, but your chest feels sticky. 
You rush inside to fill up a glass of water for him, hastily scrubbing your mug clean and putting it back in the cupboard. Maybe you should be occupying yourself with your chores today; you worry nothing will get done if you continue to watch him work in the Texas sun. 
He’s just finishing when you shoulder your way back outside, his neck glistening with sweat and golden noon-hour light, warm and tempting. You set the glass on the railing and wait for him to come your way, squeezing your thighs together as your eyes trail up and down his body. 
He's always been a capable man, broad and tall—so good at his job that he was offered a promotion after a few months. But it isn't just his strength or his doggedness when it comes to getting his work done. It's the way he’s so eager to finish things, to check off the items on your list, to please you. He frowns at the idea of you doing too much work. He parades you around town with a puffed-up chest, as if to announce, This is my wife. I’m her husband and I’m fucking proud. He takes your pleasure so seriously that it feels like a competitive sport—always outdoing himself, always striving for more. He loves selflessly, and yet he loves just selfishly enough to make sure the world knows you're his. 
He’ll be a good daddy.  
You glance down at your belly and let yourself picture it: swollen and round, ballooning big enough to fit a new life inside. You imagine smoothing your hand over a growing bump, Joel’s warm palms feeling the undulating kicks of a little baby inside, half of him and half of you. You picture back aches and swelling feet and insatiable cravings and expended energy. And not a part of it deters you. Not a speck of your willpower wavers, the way it would have mere months ago. 
Something has changed. It may have been gradual and it may have been sudden. But it's new, all the same. It’s been this way since a week ago, when you looked in your nightstand at your little pink pill organiser labelled by weekday, and decided: No more.
Watching Joel make his way back to you, shielding his eyes from the light, you idly place your hand on your belly. Something new. A welcome change, you think, to have someone new sitting at our little table. 
Joel climbs up the steps to the porch and gulps down the glass of water. “Thank you, baby,” he says, wiping his mouth. Your lips part as if to taste the air around him, to chew, to savour, relishing the richness. 
Your pupils expand, taking in more of him, and Joel notices, placing a rough hand over yours where it rests on your belly. “You’re lost in thought, honey. Wanna tell me what's in that pretty head?”
“Just…” Your tongue wets your bottom lip. “Thank you for doing that. I know it's a big job.”
“Ain’t nothin’,” says Joel, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Got any idea how I can win those chores off you?”
Hands grasping your hips, sliding over your sweat-slick spine, saccharine noises slipping from your throat onto your tongue and out into the open air. Fingers imprinting permanent fixtures into your ribs. The heady weight of his big, fat cock wrenching you open, as it always does, slow until it isn't anymore. Desperation kicking in, a switch flipped, pummeling and brutal and unforgiving. Uncompromising. Hips pressed flush to your ass, nothing spilling out. Not a drop. 
Everything sealed in tight as promises are exchanged as whispers in the dark. 
“I want you to put a baby in me.”
All right. You could have been more delicate about it. Not precisely how you wanted to approach the topic, but it seems to get the job done. 
Looking down at you, Joel slowly lowers the empty glass, mouth opening as he searches for words. “What?”
There’s no point in shyness or hesitation. You know your body, your mind, your heart. You thread your fingers through Joel’s and let them stay connected over your stomach. “I want you to give me a baby, Joel Miller,” you say softly, your gaze locked to his. “That's my price.”
Joel swallows thickly, his mouth still gaping. “I heard you,” he rasps. “Just… you… you mean it?”
You try not to melt over the tone of his voice: low, bordering on desperate, wanting. There’s hunger in the sound of it. “We’ve talked about it,” you offer, conciliatory. “Lots of times.”
“Yeah, we have.” Joel steps closer, his eyes dipping from your eyes to your mouth, your throat and collarbones, to your belly. His hand flexes. “You gotta be sure. You gotta know it's what you want.”
You cup his face and give him your best smile. It's the sort of smile he remembers from the very first night you met. The sort of person who is unashamed to show their joy on their face. “Honey, I want it all with you.” Your fingers squeeze his. “We’ve waited so long and I don’t want to wait anymore.”
His ears are ringing. All Joel can do is sweep you into his arms and grin into your throat, his hand firm on the back of your head, curling around a fistful of hair. “Girl of my fuckin’ dreams,” he mumbles against your skin. “I’ll make you a momma. Give you just what you want. Everything you want.”
As you close your eyes and open your ears to his ramblings, your erratic heartbeat settles. Serenity finds the pair of you, locked together on your front porch, and the next part of your life begins. 
“Don’t think this gets us out of doing chores,” you tease. 
“You aren’t gonna lift a goddamn finger,” says Joel fiercely, his lips still littering kisses all over your neck. “You’re havin’ a baby.”
“Honey, I’m not pregnant yet,” you laugh. “I don't need to get all lazy right away.”
“Yeah, you do, and you will. I’m gonna make you the laziest momma in Texas,” says Joel, smiling into your throat, the scratch of his moustache making you dizzy with laughter. “Gonna look so fuckin’ beautiful with a baby in you. Gonna glow like a goddamn firefly. Shit, we need to paint the spare room. I need to build a crib, get time off work—”
“Joel,” you coo, scratching your nails up and down the back of his neck. “We’ll have time to do all of that.”
He pulls back to look down at you, eyes so buttery-soft in the shade of the porch that you impulsively reach for his cheek and run your fingers through his patchy beard. “What’s next on my list?” he asks, holding you around the waist. 
You tap your fingers gently against his cheek as you recite each item over again. Joel’s arms tighten, pulling you closer, pupils widening. 
“And then what?” he says gruffly.  
You beam, and he's so fucking in love that he may keel over, doubled by the intensity of his affection. “And then, you're going to take me to bed and put a baby in me.”
This phenomenon should be studied: how quickly Joel Miller speeds through his chores when he has enough incentive. The anticipation of bending you over on the mattress and wringing every drop of cum from his balls until your stomach swells drives each flick of his hand as he touches up the forest-green paint on the front door, weathered slightly by morning sunlight over the years. The image of his hips pressed flushed to you as he grinds deep, spilling his cum into your womb and forcing it to take, motivates every turn of the steering wheel as he drives you to the grocery store in his clunky Chevy. 
He’ll need to drive to Benny’s, get the suspension fixed up; no way in hell he's going to let his pregnant wife sit on the old bench of a bumpy pickup truck, not with the speed bumps dotting the neighbourhood. At least there's a good preschool nearby. He pictures taking his baby to school and he preemptively feels the inevitable first swoop of dread into his gut knowing he'll have to watch his little girl disappear behind those doors. He knows, somehow, that it’ll be a girl. There's not a doubt in his mind. 
“What are you thinkin’ about?” you ask him, playing with his fingers as he holds your thigh. Joel is a great driver; he steers so easily, one palm sliding smoothly over the wheel, his eyes alert and his speed under control. It’s a little sexy, and it makes you antsy from where you sit on the bench. Sure, there are chores to do and there’s dinner to make, but it’s getting harder to push your innate needs to the back of your mind. You don't know if you can wait all day to get him inside you. 
“Names,” he says. “Got lots of ideas.”
“Yeah? Fire away.” 
“Well, I like Eleanor. Good, strong, classic name, y’know? Little wordy, maybe. Then there's Mary, Marie, Hannah, and I can tell you don't like any of ‘em,” he finishes with a laugh, squeezing your thigh. Your silence has always been a tell.
“They're very sweet names,” you concede, “but they don't feel like my baby.” 
Joel’s hand slides up to your belly and warms you beneath your dress. “Maybe we’ll feel it,” he says, “when we make her.”
“Think it’ll happen on the first try?” you wonder aloud, watching the scenery whiz by outside. It's a sunny, temperate day for Austin. You think about taking your baby for a walk, lounging lazily in a stroller while you say words that fall on deaf ears, but will resonate in due time nonetheless. You think about a little girl that will cling hard to her daddy’s leg when she gets scared of the storms outside, the way you did when you were little. You think about long nights shushing your sweet baby girl to sleep, about those same nights spent nestled into Joel’s body, the three of you dozing idly on the sofa. A unit. 
“If it doesn’t, I’ll just have to try again.” You watch his fingers creep back down between your legs and snap the waistband of your panties. 
You smack his hand. “If you keep playin’, Mr. Miller, you're gonna have to take me right here, in this truck. You want to give your wife a bad back?”
Joel grunts, patting your thigh. “Dirty play.”
“That's what I thought.”
Back at home, Joel vacuums the house while you manage, some-fuckin’-how, to convince him to let you do the laundry. He fishes debris and runoff out of the eavestrough, then gets down on his bad knees to tighten the plumbing underneath the sink. 
“Let me help, sweetie. At least hand you a wrench or something. You'll hurt your back again.”
“I got it,” he grunts from under the sink. “Just a loose pipe. I’m peachy.”
You just sigh and let him carry on, the stubborn bastard. When he stands, the job done, he lifts the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead, and you get a generous glimpse of his belly, the trail of dark hair directing your gaze down, down—
“Joel?” you squeak, wringing your hands together. 
He drops the shirt back over his abdomen and steps closer. “Yeah, baby?”
“Are you, um… Are you hungry?” 
He understands the particular glint in your eye, the telltale widening of your pupils, the hollow of your throat dipping as you swallow, your lashes fluttering gently. Blood surges down to his cock and it begins to fill out his jeans at the thought of taking what he's waited for all day. “No,” he says, licking his bottom lip. You eye every minute movement with meticulous precision. “Think dinner can wait.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” you say, crowding him and tugging at the hem of his shirt. He watches you prowl slowly toward him, gaze locked to the heady pull of your eyes. His cock twitches with a vested interest in the body now pressed up against him. Joel cannot look away from the siren now calling him to sea. 
“That so?” he rasps, bunching the fabric of your dress so it rides up your hip and gives him a good look at your panties. “You dressed up all pretty today. For me?”
You're as coy as a flirtatious schoolgirl, trailing your fingers up and down his muscled bicep. “Always for you.”
“That’s right, baby. You like me lots, don't you?”
“Mmm, I do,” you purr, your hand sliding up his abdomen to his chest, admiring the hard planes of his strong body. “So handsome, strong, generous…” You get lost in your exploration, eyes dipping to his throat, your lips instinctively seeking the delectable vein that pulses with every beat of his heart. “Such a good man. Gonna be such a good daddy.”
Joel’s breath shudders out of him when he feels your soft, warm mouth on his neck, indulging in the taste of him. “Jesus,” he croaks, gripping your hips hard. “Jesus, honey, you gotta go easy on me. Lemme take it slow—”
—or I swear to God, I’ll blow a load in my jeans. 
“You wanna undress me?” you say, like a real fucking tease, pulling away and tugging playfully at the straps of your dress. Joel’s nostrils flare, and he’s walking you back into the wall, cupping the back of your head to protect it, and slanting his mouth over yours. 
He’s salty with the sweat that drips from his temples and he still smells of fresh-cut grass. He’s all Joel, all yours, the first gulp of air you breathe in when you wake and the last sigh you exhale before you sleep. 
You moan into his mouth as he parts your lips and dips his tongue between them to taste yours. You taste like mint and coffee and he clutches you tighter, wrinkling the fabric of your pretty little dress in his fist. The sunlight filters through the windows, intrusive, bleeding into the moment as if taking a snapshot. Joel kisses you so deeply that your throat feels stained with the gasps of breath you exchange. 
You're sweet enough that it makes him ache, bending your back to fit you to him, craving more. Closeness is not enough—he needs possession. 
Joel’s kisses are bruising, unforgiving, merciless, but they are also slow, careful. He isn't sloppy; he does precisely what must be done to get you riled. And when he breaks away, his forehead resting against yours, you tug his hair with a pitiful whine. 
“I wasn't done,” you tell him. 
Joel pouts, mocking. Fingers pull at the straps of your dress until you're watching it pool at your feet. His big hands find your tits immediately, squeezing out all his frustrations, tweaking your nipples and lowering his mouth to your throat. 
Your fingers curl into his hair, glueing him to you while he marks your throat, sucking blood to the surface, retribution for the hickeys all over his chest. His warm palms explore your tits the way he likes, and you curve into him, giving him all the access he wants. “Joel, honey—”
Your voice is nectar, warmth from a fire on the Fourth of July, the stomach-cramping laughter around the flame. Joel groans, blindly searching for your hand with his face still nuzzled in your throat, sucking a particularly aggressive bruise that you’ll scold him for later. But he threads his fingers through yours and feels the cool kiss of your twin wedding bands, and your sweet, wispy sighs have him grinding absently against your thigh. You don't have half the mind to get mad at him for a goddamn thing. 
He pulls away with a great yank of his self-restraint, still holding your hand. “C’mon, baby.”
You follow dutifully, staring up at your husband with the same moony eyes you gave him on your wedding day. The third stair creaks a bit, the way it always does. The bedroom door is first on the left, and it's a good fucking thing, because Joel can't wait any longer. 
He walks you to the edge of the bed, stalking, a predator on prey, focused solely on his task. “Goddamn beautiful,” he says to himself, scanning your mostly-naked body and feeling his eyes droop in arousal. 
“Think so?” Your hand drops between your bodies and palms his erection over his jeans. “Yeah, you really think so.”
His nostrils flare. “Sit.”
You lower yourself onto the mattress, primly placing your hands on your thighs and straightening your spine. Joel hums appreciatively, approaching you and slotting himself between your legs. There's a dark wet spot pooling in your panties. “Sweet thing. So needy all fuckin’ day.”
“So were you” is your retort, packing little punch due to the way you push your tits toward him like a fucking whore. 
Joel presses his big, warm hand to your sternum. “Remember what you said to me the first time I got you in bed?”
“‘Let’s go again’?”
“The other thing.”
“'Let me suck your dick’?”
“Try again, baby.”
“‘Wrong hole’?”
Joel snorts, shaking his head. “Goddamn smartass,” he mutters. “Told me you wanted me from that first night. Told me you woulda let me fuck you against that bathroom mirror.”
His hand begins to move, rolling your nipple between his fingers like a cigarette, playing with you the way he likes. “Said you’d let me do whatever I wanted,” Joel says quietly, not meeting your eyes, transfixed by the way your body seeks the touch he gives you. “That still true?”
“I meant it then, and I mean it now,” you tell him, pulling your lip between your teeth. “I’m yours, Joel Miller.”
He tilts his head slightly, satisfied. “You got somethin’ you wanna ask me?”
You hook a finger in his belt loop. “Can you get naked now?”
He laughs, guiding your hand to the buckle on his belt. “Go on. Do what you wanna do, baby.”
He belongs to you. He’s yours to mould the way you want. 
Your fingers do away with his belt, whipping it out of the loops and hanging it around your neck. Joel’s hands flex at his sides as you toy with the hem of his shirt, bringing it slowly up his torso with your palms flat to his tanned skin. 
You imagine you're sculpting him like clay, bringing your hands over the contours and admiring the work when all is done. It’s the artist’s pride of finishing the work and none of the self-reproach when something comes out wrong, because it’s Joel, and wrong becomes negligible. 
You bring the shirt over his head with his assistance, lifting his arms for you, tossing the thing aside with little care. His eyes haven't once wavered from you. Next are his jeans, the scrape of his zipper and the delectable anticipation of hooking your fingers in the waistband and guiding them slowly down his hips. 
His cock springs forward, thick and heavy and so hard it must ache, as you shuck his jeans down with his boxers. He grunts above you, his cock bobbing at the sight of your pretty lips parting. But you don’t take him into your mouth. You grasp the base of his cock and gently nuzzle your cheek against his length. Something like a strangled whimper leaves his throat. 
“Baby,” he chokes. 
“Yes, honey?” you say sweetly, looking up at him through your lashes. 
“Jesus,” he says through his teeth. “You’re so fuckin' sexy. Fuck.”
You hum, slowly stroking your hand up and down as your tongue darts out to lick his balls. Joel’s hips stutter, his hand flying out to catch himself on the bedpost. “Goddamn. Jesus—”
Your coy smile knocks him askew, your lips pursing as you spit on the head of his cock, spreading your own saliva around the tip with your thumb. “I just wanna thank you”—a soft kiss to the tip has a rumbling groan crawling out of his throat—“for everything you do for me. I just want you to know how much I love you.”
Joel exhales hard, struggling to remember how breathing works when he's got his wife playing with his cock like it's your favourite toy. “How much do you love me?” he demands. 
You wrap your fingers around the head of his cock and twist your hand up and down his shaft in a couple slow strokes. You're driving him fucking crazy. His vision is whiting out. 
“I love you,” you purr, licking a broad stripe up the underside of his length. Joel’s chest is heaving with the effort of holding back. “Love you so much. Love you enough to make you a daddy.”
Joel caves, threading his fingers through your hair at the nape of your neck and stroking his thumb along your jaw. “Fuck, baby. Please…”
“Do you love me?” Batting your lashes, you scatter measured kisses from his tip to the base, teasingly licking his balls. 
“Christ, I—” His hips jut forward instinctively. “I love you. Fuckin’ love you, baby.”
You flick your tongue against his slit and relish his groan, revelling in the sight of his flushed chest, his pink cheeks, the sweat on his brow. His jaw is tense, his nostrils flaring. He’s trying not to take control. 
You slap his cock twice on your tongue and finally take it past your lips, sealing your mouth over the head. Joel moans, white-knuckling the bedpost, his other hand now stroking your hair. You fondle his balls in your free hand while the other grips him at the base, and he’s going to come embarrassingly soon if you keep looking up at him this way. 
Your tongue swirls around the head of his cock while your lips seal tight, greedily suckling at his tip. Oversensitive, skin prickling with salty sweat, Joel practically breathes through his teeth. “Gonna kill me,” he manages. “You’re gonna kill me, honey.”
“Mmmm,” you reply, happily taking him deeper, his length sliding along the warm wetness of your tongue. Joel’s fingers tighten in your hair. 
“Fuuuuck. You love this cock.”
“Mmmhmm.”
“Love takin' me into your mouth like a little slut.”
“Mmmmph,” you agree, pushing your tits out. 
His hand drifts down to the belt hanging around your neck and he wraps his fist around both ends, tugging so you’re forced to take him deeper. You splutter, breathing hard through your nose, your arousal dripping onto the mattress. 
The sloppy sounds of your mouth working his cock send his head spinning. Drool dribbles from the corners of your lips, your eyes squeezing black tears from dewy lashes. And when you take him down your throat, the sound of your choked moan leaves Joel with little choice but to pull out before he comes. 
You whine, squeezing your thighs together. He swipes his thumb underneath your eye and shows you the black smudge from your mascara. “Doesn't take much to get you cryin’. You like me that much?”
You bite your bottom lip and beam up at him. “Did I do okay?”
Your faux-innocence makes his dick twitch in your face, and you flick your tongue out to lick at the tip once more. Joel grunts, grasping his belt and tossing it away. 
“‘Did I do okay,’” he murmurs, tweaking your nipple between his fingers. “Got no idea after all these years. No idea what you do to me.”
“I just wanna take care of my man. He works so hard, you know, keeping me safe and happy.” You run your hand over his soft belly, the trail of hair that leads down to his cock. “He’s always liked to give me things.”
Joel backs you farther up the bed and crawls over your body, lowering his head to bury his face in your throat. You smell fresh and sweet as vanilla, and when he playfully bites into your skin, your saplike laugh has him grinding helplessly against your thigh. 
He loves to give—always has. It’s all he knows. It took a long while for you to get him to unlearn some of his blind selflessness, to let you take control sometimes and care for him instead. Your Joel provides; he does not take. And the prospect of getting to give his wife a baby is turning him to putty in your hands. By the time he gets to work, he’ll be dead-set on his task, hard-pressed to pull out of you. He’ll want to get the job done on his first try, refusing to see you upset if the test comes back negative, but the id will still scratch and claw for another chance to fill you up. 
Joel sucks a hickey into your neck and soothes the mark with his tongue, the slow, soft pleasure compounded by the way his warm body covers you, your fingers carding through his locks. 
Your voice oozes, honeyed, down his spine. “I love you, Joel.”
He squeezes his eyes shut and crushes his nose in your throat, his hand smoothing down your hair. “I love you.”
“You want to make a baby?”
He rears back slightly, his nose bumping against yours. “Yeah. I really fuckin’ do.”
You grin, lacing your fingers together at the back of his neck. “Will you fuck me? Please?”
Joel brushes his thumb across your chin. “Use your words.”
“I want to be a mom, Joel.” You give him a long, gooey stare, eyes warm and soft as running water. A look like that will make a man give you the goddamn galaxy. 
He nods, pressing a soft kiss to your mouth. “I know, baby. I’ll help you. Hands and knees, now.”
The gentle direction moulds your body to the shape of the words. You go easily, your back arching as you rest your weight on your forearms and spread your thighs. The bed dips behind you as Joel settles in, his hands grasping your ass and making you jump. 
Your body trembles with excitement. You’re going to be a mom. He's going to get you pregnant. You feel dizzy, bending deeper at the hips and shaking your ass at him, deluded with your own arousal. 
But Joel doesn't fuck you right away. No, he bumps up against the backs of your thighs, warm hands branding your skin, and rubs two fingers over the wet spot darkening your panties. 
“I do this to you?” he says smugly. 
“You know damn well—”
“Wanna hear you say it.” The no-nonsense command triggers a submissive response. “Who did this to you?”
Your body melts against him, presenting your pussy to him like a needy whore. “You, Joel. It’s you, baby. Only you.”
Your babbling makes him squeeze handfuls of your ass, spreading your asscheeks apart to get a good glimpse of the way your pussy drools into your panties. Shuffling backward and lowering himself to his knees on the floor, Joel’s tongue darts out and licks you through your underwear. 
“Ohh, fuck!” you gasp. “Joel…”
He hums, tasting your tang through the fabric and finding your puffy clit, sucking gently. You cry out, your fingers grasping the sheets, and Joel moves your panties aside to slather his spit all over your dripping pussy. The languorous movements of his tongue are indulgent, achingly slow; he loves the taste of you as much as you enjoy having his mouth on your cunt. 
“Oh my God, Joel… fuck, honey, please—!”
Your thighs are trembling as you struggle to hold yourself up, the strokes of his tongue turning your muscles to soup. He stops to take your panties off, guiding them off your legs, and by now, you're so wet that your juices glisten halfway down your thighs. Joel dives back in and licks up the rivulets of arousal from your skin, all the way back up to your weeping hole. 
“So goddamn sweet,” he grumbles, kneading your ass in his hands as he flicks his tongue over your clit a few more times. 
“Joel, I’m…” You’re drooling, grinding pathetically into his face, already close to an orgasm, and he isn't fucking letting up. 
He wants you as wet and needy as possible, his own cock leaking onto the bedsheets at the prospect of sliding into your creamy pussy. 
Your cheeks burn and your muscles lock as Joel makes out with your pussy, his tongue laving over your pearl in slow, aching circles. He drowns in the pleasure of making you feel good. He soaks himself in kerosene and lights the match. 
“Oh, fuck!” Your thighs shake around his head and your toes curl, ears ringing with the force of your high. Grasping feebly at the bedsheets, you try not to list, but Joel isn’t fucking stopping, cleaning you up with his tongue like you're a piece of goddamn pie. 
His fingers dig into your ass, rapacious as his mouth, and you climb high to a space that transcends the sky, feeling nothing but the linen underneath and the man above, softly kissing your poor, used clit. 
He doesn’t let up until you reach back and gently shove his head away, grasping his damp curls. “Baby, let me rest,” you gasp, “just for a second.”
Regretfully, he pulls away, pressing a kiss to each knob of your spine, dragging his nose up your back. “‘m so fuckin’ lucky,” he murmurs against your skin. 
“Lucky you didn’t kill me.” You laugh breathlessly, your hips already sore from keeping your ass in the air. 
“Makin’ sure you’re ready,” he says innocently, sliding his thick fingers through your slit. You gasp, trying to escape his grasp despite yourself. He just clicks his tongue in reproach. “Nuh-uh, baby. You're gonna stay right here, let me make it good for you. Hmm? Wanna feel good?”
You nod your head frantically. “Yeah, yeah, I do. Wanna be good.”
“Mmm, now, you know that ain't your job tonight,” he says in a mock scold. In the meantime, his fingers soak themselves in your wetness. “Don't think you're ready for me yet.”
“No! No, I’m ready,” you pant, grinding against his erection. Joel grunts, holding your hip in place. “Baby, please, I’m ready for you. Need you so badly.”
“Shhh, sweetheart. I'll give you what you need. Just be patient.” Hands smooth over your ass, between your thighs, and then two fingers are teasing your hole. Joel tilts his head to watch the way he spreads your folds wide. “Gonna fill this up.”
A strangled noise spills from your mouth, your cheeks burning hot at the way he exposes you so tenderly. “Please,” you croak, hiding your face in the crook of your elbow. 
He grasps himself and teases the already-wet head of his cock over your pussy, spurting precum onto your hole. “You want a baby?” he asks, low and dark. You luxuriate in the velvet-soft tone. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want a baby,” you whisper, “please. Please give me a baby.”
He readies himself at your tight cunt and the excitement briefly overcomes him, forcing his hips forward and pushing past the wet, gummy seal of your pussy. You gasp, held in place by his hand on your hip. 
“What. Do. You. Want?”
“I want to make you a daddy!” you sob. “I want to have your baby and make you a daddy.”
“You want to be a momma?” he says through his teeth, tunnel vision narrowing his focus to the way he slowly guides himself into you, wrenching you open. At this angle, with how wet you are, the glide is delicious, white-hot, his balls heavy with the need to empty inside you. “That it? Want everyone to know who put a fuckin’ baby in you?”
Your husband is so fucking big, so strong, and the way he pins your body down feels close to primal. “Yes! Yes, Daddy, yes! I want to be a momma. Please give me a baby.”
The words put a chisel to his self-restraint and crack down. He’s gone, baring his teeth, pulling your hips toward him and impaling you on his cock, relishing the give of your tight walls and the way he sits snug against your cervix. You mewl, reaching back to find a purchase on his hip. “Joel, fuck…”
He establishes a punishing pace, driving your body farther up the bed with every thrust. “That’s it,” he groans, sliding his palm up your spine. “Gonna look so goddamn beautiful with a baby in you. You were fuckin’ made to take this cock.”
Your moan is syrupy and pitched low, your cheek buried in the mattress, letting him fill you up again, again, again—
“I’ll get you fuckin’ pregnant,” continues Joel, panting through his words, sweat beading on his brow as he runs his hands over your skin. “Stuff you so goddamn full you'll always feel me.”
“Uhhh!” you moan, fisting the sheets, your body practically folded in half to accommodate your husband’s huge body, his thick cock.
Joel wants this, too—has for a long time. It’s hard not to notice the little details. He places his hand on your belly when he isn't even paying attention, his lips finding the soft skin there when he first wakes in the morning. You knew he would have dropped everything to give you a baby the second you demanded it, but you realise you may have underestimated his need. 
Joel is growling like a dog, sweat dripping from his temples and back pinching with effort as he holds your body close, glueing you to him, his cock reaching deep, deliberate, mind going numb, intent the only tangible feeling he can grasp onto. Intent and the white-hot drag of his cock against your walls. 
You’re going to grow swollen and round with his baby. He will watch your tits grow heavy, your belly bulge, your cheeks take on a ruddy, dewy glow, the telltale mark of his success, his devotion. He’ll wake up every morning wrapped in the scent of your body, your hormones, his palm finding sanctuary on your soft, warm belly. He’ll bury his face in your throat and you’ll smile and the sun will warm the golden spot where a new life grows. 
Fuck, he’ll never let you do laundry again. You could hurt your back. 
Your head spins at the wet slap of his balls against your clit, the obscene squelch of your pussy around his impressive length, the way he grabs at you. He’s greedy, hands mapping each rib, each vertebrae, every curve and contour that makes you. 
Your pussy sucks him in, just as needy, breathless moans and squeals punching out of your throat as you croak out pleas: Joel, baby, please. I want a baby so badly. Wanna have your baby. Please, please, fill me up! And Joel listens, his palm sliding around your waist and down your belly, rubbing your sensitive clit with two fingers. 
A real man gives his wife everything she wants. 
He moans at the feeling of your cunt squeezing him, his fingers wet and insistent against your little clit, coaxing you toward your climax. “C’mon,” he grunts, “come for me, baby. Fuckin’ choke me. Wanna feel it. Come and I’ll give you the baby you want so goddamn bad. C’mon, baby.”
His words seep into your bloodstream, an uncontrollable tremor racking your body, your arms giving out as he bends over you and sinks his teeth into your shoulder. “Ohhhh, God! Oh my—!” 
Joel’s hands squeeze your tits, his entire body covering yours, a warm, protective blanket, slick with sweat and heart thundering against your back. His lips are on your skin, feverishly kissing and nipping. You can’t breathe, can’t move, and it feels so fucking good. You soak his cock, muscles seizing, pinned down by his strong body. 
“Fuck, that’s it,” he groans. “That’s it, baby. Goddamn, keep on squeezin’ me like that. Not gonna leave this tight pussy until you're fuckin’ pregnant.”
“Joelllll,” you whine, your orgasm prolonged by his words, his unrelenting thrusts, the jolt of his balls slapping your clit. “Want it so bad. Wanna give you a baby. Come inside me, please. Please give me your cum, oh, God—”
The broken sound of your voice, weak and raspy, goes straight to his dick, and his balls are pulling up, his head bombarded with the smell of sex, perfume, linen, you. He rests his forehead between your shoulder blades as you milk his cock, turning his thrusts sloppy and desperate. He needs to come. He needs to make it real. 
Your orgasm leaves you pliant and loose in his arms, and he fondles your tits, squeezing them hard in his hands as he pictures them growing, swelling heavy with milk he’ll feed your baby. His baby. Idly, you moan, letting him use your body to get off, his teeth grazing your neck. 
“Gonna come. Gonna fuckin’ fill you up, give you a baby. Gonna—Jesus, goddamn—”
Maybe it's the pent-up frustration of not having come all day. Maybe it's a renewed sense of purpose, knowing he's got a job to do, keeping every drop safe inside you. Maybe it's the sheer fucking excitement of getting to give his wife what he's wanted to put in you for so long. But when he comes, hips flush to your ass, he comes so much, for so long, that the rapid rush of blood from his cock back up to his head has him nearly keeling. 
Kissing your cervix, the head of his cock spurts rope after rope of hot cum inside you, and you mewl, your back arching to deepen the angle, luxuriate in the liquid warmth. Joel isn’t so loud now, not so cocky. He’s reduced to strained groans and whimpers as your body depletes him, greedily taking every drop of cum he has to offer. 
It feels like minutes before it finally stops, but with your ass up in the air, none of his cum spills out. Your hips are sore, your ass bruises from his hands, your tits still sitting warmly in his hands. The cool kiss of his wedding band soothes the too-hot press of his body on top of yours, your doubly-slick skin meeting indecently. His lips are on the back of your neck and he thrusts shallowly, wringing the last of his cum from the tip until he's wholly empty and bordering on oversensitive. 
You're the first to speak, your throat clogged with drool and some of your own tears. 
“Thank fuck I was at the bar that night.”
Joel’s laugh scrapes down your spine along with his beard as he drags himself upright, knowing he’s crushing you. “Never would've had to patch me up”
“Mmm, you're sexy when you're mad,” you point out, your thighs twitching as he carefully guides you onto your side, back to his chest, his cock still acting as a plug for his cum. You’re deliciously full, and you hum happily at the feeling of his warm belly against you, his big arms cradling you close. 
“Shouldn't enable violence,” he grumbles. His lashes flutter against your shoulder. 
You roll your eyes. “Oh, please.”
He chuckles. “You feel okay?”
“I feel good,” you muse, running your fingers along his forearm, the prominent veins under his skin. “I feel excited.”
His grin curves against your skin, the scratch of his moustache sending a shiver up your spine. Outside, the sun begins to dip, and your twin golden rings glimmer in the fiery light. 
“Me, too,” he whispers, and you lace your fingers through his, squeezing, both of you practically giddy. 
There’s a lull, and for a moment, you think he’s fallen asleep. The sun creeps behind a home across the street, and its watch ends for another day. 
“Hey, Joel?”
His mouth meets your throat in a sleepy kiss. “Yeah, baby?”
“I like the name Sarah.”
THE END.
tags: @cavillscurls @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @cupofjoel @northernbluess @tieronecrush @joelmillers-whore @bastardmandennis - thank you all so so much for showing excitement for this fic!! kisses for you all 🫶
8K notes · View notes
wheresarizona · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
but I would die for you in secret
summary: The relationship you have with Joel Miller is… complicated, and you’re not entirely sure what to even call it. There’s the fact no one can know, so his kid doesn’t find out, and you’re pretty sure he’s ashamed of your age difference—he’s not your boyfriend, but you only fuck each other; this thing started months ago, and Joel does not like it when men give you attention, because he wants you all to himself. But again, he’s not your sexy, older boyfriend.
pairing: Joel Miller/f!reader
rating: E (18+!! No y/n, porn with some plot, explicit smut, Possessive Joel Miller, Joel being a lil dominant, age gap (unspecified, reader is an adult), secret relationship, sneaking around, accidental voyeurism, edging, orgasm denial, mutual masturbation, dirty talk (so much), oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), rough sex, explicit consent, creampie, spanking, spit as lube, love confession, Good Parent Joel Miller, Ellie giving Joel so much shit, TLOU AU where Joel doesn’t lie to Ellie and they’re good when they get back to Jackson)
word count: 7.1k+
a/n: Hey! I needed a break from my long fic that I’ve been writing nonstop for five months, and I was really missing Joel and Ellie, so here we are. I hope you enjoy! Thank you to @juletheghoul for betaing!
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!
Next - Series Masterlist - Masterlist
Tumblr media
The relationship you have with Joel Miller is… complicated.
To start with, there’s the age difference. It doesn’t bother you at all, and why should it? You’re both consenting adults who know what they want, but he’s got this idea in his head that he shouldn’t be chasing someone so much younger than him and that you should be with somebody your own age—he mentions this almost every single time you’re alone together, and you've learned a simple flash of your tits or a sudden kiss will make those thoughts disappear.
Then there's the fact he isn't your boyfriend, yet you only fuck each other. His days are spent working whatever job he’s assigned here in Jackson and he’s at your place most nights after his daughter goes to bed—however, that’s a secret; No one can know about you two, even though Joel’s a tiny bit possessive and doesn't take kindly to other men giving you attention; which you're not one to judge because you can't stand when women flirt with him, especially Sandra, his next-door neighbor who won't leave him the fuck alone after the many times he’s told her he’s not interested.
So, again, he's not your boyfriend, but neither of you wants to fuck anyone else; whatever this thing is between you has been going on for over eight months, and he doesn’t want people to know you’re together—yet, any time he catches a man being too friendly with you, there's a 100% chance a grumpier than usual Joel will show up at your house that night, and at some point, while he’s fucking your brains out, he'll let a 'Mine' slip out.
Clearly, you have some kind of relationship with him, and it borders somewhere between fuck buddies and him being your boyfriend; where it gets confusing is it's not all sex with him. If his kid is staying over at a friend's, he'll show up at yours earlier than normal, and usually, with a movie he hadn't seen since the world ended or a record he thought you'd enjoy that you both listen to all the way through for him to tell you facts and anecdotes that he could possibly be the only person on the entire planet who knows.
If you need anything fixed around your house, he'll do it, and sometimes you don't even have to ask. You'll mention something, and the next thing you know, he's at your front door with a toolbox—sometimes, he uses doing repairs as a ruse so people will see him arriving at your place with his tools when, in actuality, he’s there to spend the day with you.
You’re also probably the only person, unrelated to him, he has actual conversations with; there’s hardly any grumbling or muttering.
There is a reason he won't acknowledge you’re dating, and it's his sixteen-year-old daughter whom he doesn't want to know he has a love life—it's to where Joel's basically taken the role of the rebellious teenager, sneaking out of his own home in the middle of the night to ensure she's unaware he left.
It's an accumulation of factors why she can't know. The big two, you think, are your age, and you know for sure he doesn't want Ellie to think she'll be any less important to him or that he's abandoning her if he's seeing someone—he worries she won’t take it well, and from what you know she's been through, you can understand why he’s being so protective.
Do you wish you could openly be in a relationship with Joel? Sure, it'd make you happy to shove it in Sandra, his stupid neighbor's face that he's taken.
That isn't a possibility, though, and honestly, what the two of you have is good, so you're not going to make a fuss about labels.
It's been a few nights since Joel has snuck over to your place, and you know why he hasn't stopped by—Ellie—she's sick with a cold, and to put things mildly, her father is freaking the fuck out that it could turn into something worse, and he won't let her out of his sight.
Now, if a person didn't want their child to know they were dating anyone, they’d keep them separated, right? Well, you live across the street from them—that's how you met Joel; he saw someone had moved into the tiny one-bedroom, one-bath home across from his and came over to introduce himself—and since you live across the way from him, and Ellie, the two of you have this, 'Just being a good neighbor,’ act, where any interactions you have in public, are under the guise that you’re just friendly neighbors. So, Ellie has spoken to you many times and has even invited you to hang out and eat meals with them at their house or in the mess hall, where Joel always does his damndest to act indifferent.
Joel left a simple note three days ago stating Ellie was feeling under the weather on your front door. The next day, you stopped by, as the good neighbor you are, to drop off some chicken soup you convinced the kitchen at the mess hall to make. Joel had let you in with a ‘Thanks’ and took the large bowl from you to the kitchen, and you followed the sounds of sniffles to the living room, where you found the teenager wrapped in a blanket on the couch, her stuffed-up voice exclaiming when she saw you in relief you were there so she’d have someone other than her dad to look at or talk to; obviously, she was tired of him, and with how he was hovering, and fussing over her like a mother hen, you would’ve been tired of him, too.
The man had bags under his worried eyes and looked like he hadn’t slept since she’d gotten sick. After he served her some soup and saw she was eating it, Ellie and you convinced him to take a nap while you hung out with his kid—the kid you’ve had a suspicion for a while knows there’s something up between you and her father, simply because every time the two of you are alone, she grills you about your love life.
The thing is, she always fishes for information you won’t give her, but she never seems bothered by the prospect of Joel dating; frankly, she’s supportive and wants him to be happy. However, that wasn’t something you could tell him because he’d probably end things with you immediately, so you’d have to wait for them to eventually have a heart-to-heart for him to find out—which, you’re not holding your breath with how bad they both are at talking to each other about their feelings.
And now it’s been over three days since you last got laid, and after having great sex regularly, the horniness is hitting you hard tonight, and you need to come.
It might be the dead of winter, but you’ve pushed the blankets to the end of your queen-sized bed, the old sheets not as soft as you imagined they’d once been when they were new, your bare, heated skin pressing into them. You’re lying in the middle of the mattress, your head cushioned by a pillow that’d lost its firmness long ago, your naked legs spread while your fingers rub at your swollen clit just right, the others pinching at your pebbled nipple to have the pleasure welling up inside you. You’ve been biting your bottom lip so much it’s sore, your breaths panting from your lungs, the wood stove in the living room keeping your house warm, and that, combined with your arousal, has a thin layer of sweat coating your body.
Sure, you can get yourself off, but the orgasm will be nowhere near as good as what Joel coaxes from you; it’ll take the edge off, at least, so you’ll feel a little better.
For the last hour, you’ve been building yourself up, almost hitting your peak, and stopping, edging yourself over and over again to try to make yourself come as hard as you can by your own hand to assuage some of your need—the sheets are wet under your ass where you’ve dripped onto them.
Your heart is pounding in your chest, thinking about that one night Joel saw some guy about your age at the bar laying it on thick to get you to leave with him, and how after you turned him down and left, a familiar presence followed you along the dark streets. You had to keep quiet when those big, gun-calloused hands you knew all too well pulled you into the stable that had nobody in it except the horses—Joel fucked you from behind against a wall, having to brace yourself with your arms on it. You remembered his palm over your mouth to muffle your sounds and him blanketing himself over your back to have his lips at your ear while he pounded into you hard and fast, quietly grunting about how you were his and that no one could make you feel as good as he did. There was no forgetting how his cock stretched open your cunt, or how before he sheathed himself inside you, you heard him spit on his fingers to slick himself up; the way he made you come around him while he circled your clit with those same digits. The memory of how he’d worked himself up so much he’d forgotten to pull out and spilled deep in your pussy, has you so close to coming by your hand you moan loudly, “Joel.”
“Stop,” the familiar gruff voice makes your eyes snap open as you gasp, immediately sitting up on your elbows.
There at the foot of the bed is the man on your mind—he must’ve taken off his winter jacket in the living room—his green flannel shirt is gaping from most of the buttons being undone, revealing his chest, his grey waves of hair looking to be slightly damp from melted snowflakes. What steals your attention is the fact his jeans are unbuttoned and open, and he’s slowly stroking his hard dick; from how the tip is angry red, leaking precum, and his shaft shines, he’s been watching and jerking off for some time.
“Joel,” his name comes out as a whisper, and your eyes flick up to his, finding them dark and staring hungrily between your legs at your glistening cunt.
You’re so happy to see him you’re not even mad he ruined your orgasm, knowing he’ll make it up to you.
“How many times have you made yourself come while I’ve been busy?” he asks, finally meeting your gaze, his expression grumpy.
“No-none,” you stammer.
His eyebrow lifts. “You lyin’ to me, sweetheart?”
“No.” You shook your head. “Are you mad at me…?”
His face pinches in confusion. “What? No. I’m not mad at you, baby. I’m mad at myself for leavin’ you hangin’.” He undoes the last two buttons on his shirt and shrugs it off for it to fall to the floor, pushing down his pants to step out of them, now standing before you completely naked.
His body is a tapestry of littered scars that tell of his fight to survive this long, some from injuries you’re sure should’ve killed him. Yet, somehow, if by spite or the grace of God, he managed to stay alive—your fingers have traced many of them, mapping the silvery and pink lines in the quiet of the night with only the glow of a bedside lamp. With what people have to do in order to keep living these days, they rarely like to share the stories behind their close calls to death. Still, there’s a jagged scar low on the right side of his stomach lesser men would have died from, you noticed the first time he took his shirt off, and you always wanted to know the story of. Surprisingly, he told you how he got it a few months into this not-not relationship when you asked.
Excitement pools in your belly, your pussy throbbing needily, watching as he climbs onto the bed to kneel in front of you, between your legs, down by your ankles.
“Touch yourself,” he orders and takes himself in hand again, languidly pumping his cock. “I wanna watch you make yourself come; then I’m gonna show you how I’m better than everyone, includin’ you, at gettin’ you off.”
Your cunt clenches because he is better, and the promise has you doing as he said, sliding your hand down to the apex of your thighs to rub your clit the way you like while you watch him fist his shaft. This isn’t the first time he’s watched you touch yourself, and you’re sure if it was anyone else, you’d feel embarrassed, but with how the desire is clear as he stares at what you’re doing, it spurs you on.
Having been so close to coming when he told you to stop, and now, it’s turning you on so much that he’s jacking off to what you’re doing, all of it is building you back up quickly, the familiar heat growing at the base of your spine.
“Just like that, baby,” he rasps and wets his bottom lip. “Keep rubbin’ that pretty pussy—did you miss me?”
“Yes.”
He hums in the back of his throat. “Missed how good I make you feel—how I stretch open that perfect cunt with my cock? Do I fuck you so good, you were thinkin’ about me to make yourself come?”
The strokes of his hand sound wetter, your arousal drooling onto the bedding while the muscles in your belly begin to tighten.
“Yes,” you gasp.
“That’s right, you were. So fuckin’ pretty spread out like this for me—I wanna taste you, shove my face in your pussy, and drown in it; just look at how you’re drippin’ for me.”
“Joel,” you moan. You’re so close it’s not going to take much more.
“God, I fuckin’ missed that sound; I missed hearin’ your voice and how good you smell, how soft your skin is, and the few hours I get to sleep next to you—come for me, baby. Come all over your fingers, and I’ll give you my dick—I’ll make those gorgeous eyes roll back in your head and give it to you so good, I ruin you for anyone else.”
He’s already ruined you for anyone else, and you doubt there’s another who’d fuck you as good as him.
It’s the thought that he’s yours and no one else can have him like this that sends you over the edge, your body seizing up as you come, pleasure erupting from your center as you moan his name.
He doesn’t give you a chance to recover, batting away your hand to dive in and bury his face in your wet heat. He shoves his tongue inside your soaked hole, groaning loudly as he laps at your come, your body trembling when he drags the flat of it up through your folds to suck your clit between his lips. Your fingers press into his hair, soft sounds leaving your throat at how good it feels.
The one orgasm isn’t enough—you need more, his mouth igniting arousal to burn hot in your belly, making you feel achingly empty. He’s licking up every bit of your need, coating your sex, moving to flick his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves. You’re feeling greedy; what he’s doing isn’t enough, and you want, no, need him inside you.
You pull at his hair as you tell him in a somewhat whiny tone, “Fuck me, Joel—stop making me wait.”
His chuckle vibrates into your sensitive skin before he rises to kneel with a groan. “Impatient.” He smacks your thigh. “Flip, ass up.” And it’s not a suggestion, his hands on your waist helping you to roll over, pulling your backside up into the air while your torso is against the sheets. Your knees are sinking into the bed and spread a little, putting yourself on display for him, the mattress jostling when he shuffles forward, feeling his body heat behind you. His palm lands on your asscheek hard, the sharp sting making you moan. “Now, ask me nicely to fuck you.”
You should’ve known he wouldn’t care for your lack of manners.
Your head is resting on your crossed arms in front of you.
“Joel, will you please fuck me?” you ask as sweetly as possible.
“Yes.”
The sound of him spitting on his fingers meets your ears, and you know he’s slicking himself up. One of his hands holds your hip, the other guiding his cock through the lips of your pussy to wet it even more, nudging your clit—it doesn’t seem like he’s in a mood to tease too much. Your eyes slip shut when he notches himself at your entrance and starts slowly feeding himself into you, your tight, velvety walls expanding to take the considerable girth of him, whining as he fills you. He slides all the way home, your cunt throbbing around him.
“Fuck, that’s good,” he groans. “Is this what your needy little pussy wanted?”
“Yes,” you moan.
He’s as deep as he can go and pulls out until just the tip remains, and slams back into you hard enough to knock the air from your lungs—oh, this is going to be one of those times where he fucks you to the point your legs are too shaky to walk on afterward. The pace he sets is deliciously brutal and has your eyes rolling back, all thoughts leaving your brain, unable to think with how he’s pressing into so many heavenly spots, his grip tight on your waist.
The sounds in the room are obscene—the springs beneath you are squeaking, and there’s the noisy slap of his hips colliding with your ass, Joel grunting with each dull smack of his skin to yours, while you gasp out moans.
He’s fucking you so good, your orgasm is already taking shape, its fiery tendrils tightening in your core with each stroke.
“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he says through gritted teeth. “You’re so fuckin’ wet—I could live in this perfect pussy.”
His hand slaps your ass hard enough the crack echoes amongst the four walls, the sweet pain making you clench around him and press back into his thrusts, crying out his name.
“Does it feel good, baby?” he asks. “Did you miss getting fucked like this? You love this—this pussy is mine, isn’t it? You’re mine.”
He’s not wrong; you are his, and all you can do is mewl in reply, waves of your arousal seeping down his shaft to catch on his balls.
His gun-calloused hands adjust on your hips to get a better grip, pulling you back each time his dick impales you, fucking you harder and faster, hearing him panting behind you—the wet sounds of him working himself in and out of your drenched cunt, are loud, and lewd.
You’re so close; you’re just needing—
Joel leans forward to get his hand under your body to the swollen pearl of your clit, circling it how he knows you like it.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he grits out. “Let me have it—soak my cock with your come. Let me feel you—I know you’re almost there.”
That’s it—the knot in your belly winds tighter and tighter until the tension snaps, and you fall over the edge with a silent cry, your pussy clamping down on him hard enough that it slows his rhythm almost to a stop. Joel groans loudly while euphoria explodes out from your center, feeling it spread to your fingers and toes. Your brain goes blissfully blank, and your legs tremble under you like a leaf in the wind.
A gasp leaves you when he suddenly pulls out and flips you onto your back, taking his place between your spread thighs. He puts your legs high on his ribs, holding his weight on one arm while his other hand sheaths himself back inside you.
It’s not surprising that you’ve found yourself under his hulking frame with his hips snapping in and out of you—when you open your eyes, his are closed, his expression looking pained, and it’s his broad shoulders and head that take up your vision. This is how Joel wanted to fuck you from the start, but he’s a gentleman and did your preferred position first.
Your fingernails end up digging into the skin of his shoulder blades for something to hold on to, and he kisses over your chest to duck his head, wrapping his lips around a stiff nipple and sucking on it, the shock of pleasure causing a moan to slip from your throat. His breaths are heavy, and you know he won’t last much longer.
Your voice is hoarse when you speak, telling him what you know he needs to hear, “I missed you, Joel.” He whines. “I want you to come for me.”
His mouth leaves your breast to crash against yours, and you’d been wondering how long he’d go without kissing you—something about kissing while he fucks makes him come faster; maybe it’s the intimacy?
He’s told you the last woman he was with back in Boston wouldn’t kiss him because sex between them was just scratching an itch, and she wasn’t looking for anyone to replace her dead husband.
All you know is Joel loves kissing and touching—he’s admitted that he sleeps best with you snuggled against his back as the big spoon, which, you’ll never tell him, you think is adorable with how he scares people enough, they move out of his way when he walks down the street.
His kisses are fervent, and you give just as good as you get, welcoming his tongue when it presses between your lips, his pace speeding up. You love having him inside you, the way he fits all nice and snug to fill you completely. This is what you’ve been needing, and it’s perfect.
When his rhythm gets uneven, you expect him to pull out at any second to spill his release on your belly. What he does next, you’re not expecting.
Joel shoves his face into the crook of your neck, his facial hair scratching your skin, feeling his hot breaths.
He says something that’s too muffled to make out, so you pull on his hair to make him lift his head, finding his eyes dark and glazed over, looking totally and completely wrecked. His pace slows to him rocking in and out of you.
“What did you say?” you ask.
“Can I—” he pants. “Fuck, can I come inside you?”
The question has your tight walls constricting around him.
“Fuck,” Joel hisses, his eyes closing. “Please, can I?” he asks again.
The answer that immediately pops into your brain is ‘yes,’ but thinking about how the only times this man has finished inside you in the past were all accidents, you’re worrying he’s just pussy drunk and not thinking straight; that if you fell pregnant, something you didn’t mind, he’ll regret it.
“Are you sure?” you ask.
He looks at you and nods. “Yes, I know—” The consequences, he leaves unsaid. “—please.”
“Then yes, come for me, Joel—fill me up.”
He raggedly moans, his face falling into your neck again. His thrusts speed up and become frantic as he pounds into you, your heels digging into his ass, feeling the muscles flex. He works himself up until he presses into you one last time as deep as possible and comes with a guttural groan—his dick jerks inside you, and the hot spurts of his spend gush into your depths, filling you up. Electricity zips down your spine as you moan, your tight walls throbbing around him while he grinds his hips, fucking his come deeper.
The weight of his body is welcome when he eventually slumps onto you, and instinctively, your fingers slide into his hair, scratching your nails lovingly against his scalp, the man practically purring on top of you.
For the first time in three days, you feel happy and finally sated, loving how he’s stuffed you full of his cock, and come. There’s no talking as your heartbeats slow together and your breathing evens out, basking in each other’s presence. Your eyes are closed, and you’re choosing to ignore your shaky limbs.
It’s hard to imagine a life without Joel, which is odd since up until this point, most of it had been spent without him, or anyone really. What you actually mean is you don’t want to imagine a life without Joel and Ellie—you think she’s a great kid, and you have a soft spot for her; plus, she and her dad are a package deal. Then there’s Joel, who you’re absolutely and completely in love with, and it bothers you that you don’t know what this relationship between you is or if he even feels the same as you.
Minutes pass, the old, wooden bones of your house creaking as the winter wind gusts outside.
“Joel?” you break the silence.
“Mhmm?” he hums, nuzzling into your throat.
“What are we?”
“Huh?”
“What are we? Like, what is this thing that we’re doing?”
His head lifts, and he pulls out, rolling off you to lie beside you on his back, pressing his hands to his face.
“Somethin’ I shouldn’t be doin’ in the first place,” he finally answers.
You turn on your side toward him, propping your head up on your arm. “Take my age out of the equation.”
His palms lift, and he looks at you confused. “What do you mean?”
“For some fucking reason, you are stuck on my age—take it out of the equation; if that wasn’t a factor, would you openly date me?”
“Well, there’s Ellie—”
“—let’s pretend she doesn’t give a fuck about your love life,” you cut him off, “and actually wants you to be happy, and my age doesn’t matter—would you openly date me?”
“Yes.”
“So, you have feelings for me?”
“Of course.”
“Do you love me…?”
“Yes,” he whispers, covering his face again.
One word has your heart picking up in speed.
“I love you, too.”
His head whips in your direction with an expression of bewilderment.
“What?” he asks.
“I’m in love with you—have been for a while, and I’m fine with doing what we’ve been doing if that’s the only way I can be with you, but I kinda, sorta, would like it if you thought of us as a couple, and weren’t ashamed of me…”
A secret relationship? You’re fine with that. But Joel being ashamed of you? It fucking hurts.
“I’m not ashamed of you,” he says too quickly.
“Joel, if Ellie were okay with you having a love life, you wouldn’t openly date me because of how old I am—I’d just continue being your dirty little secret that one other person knows about.”
His eyes dart away, and the sigh he lets out is long and weary.
“I’m not ashamed of you,” he says. “I’m ashamed of myself for fallin’ for you and not bein’ able to give you the future you deserve. I just felt like I was stringin’ you along when you could be with someone who can offer you more, but I’m so fuckin’ selfish.” He looks at you. “I want you, and I don’t want anyone else to have you—I can’t let you go, even though I should cut you free.”
Your fingers brush back the sweat-soaked hair on his forehead. “I don't want anyone else, Joel—I want you, and you’re not stringing me along. I’m happy with you and any future I can have with you and Ellie.”
He’s frowning. “If only it were that simple,” he sighs.
This is a conversation you thought might make him end things with you, but maybe giving him a slight nudge will be okay—at least, you hope it will.
“It is that simple,” you tell him. “I’m gonna tell you something that if you can work up the nerve to talk to her about, she'll confirm it.”
His eyebrows furrow. “What?”
“Ellie doesn’t care if you date. She’s told me she wishes you weren’t such an asshole ‘cause then the only negative thing about you is how ugly you are, and people love ugly things all the time, and if someone loves you, then you won’t die alone, plus it’d hopefully make you happy, and she really wants you to be happy—that’s pretty much what she said word-for-word.”
His eyes close, and the sigh that leaves him is that of a father who’s real tired of their child’s shit, and you smile.
“That’s Ellie,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I’m not even sure how I should be feelin’ right now.”
“I hoped you’d be relieved at least, possibly even happy.”
He looks at you. “Yeah, I’m relieved and happy but also a little ticked at her embarrassin’ me like that.”
Scooting closer to him, you lay half on top of him with your arms folded on his chest, resting your chin on them to stare at his pretty face.
“Don’t be embarrassed. It was said out of love—she loves you.”
He sighs again, wrapping his arms around your bare back.
“I guess she does, even if she’s mean. Jesus, I can’t believe I just needed to talk to her sooner.”
“That’s usually how things work—it’s called communication, and you should talk to her.”
His eyes narrowed, and he smacked your ass, making you giggle. “There’s no need for the sass, sweetheart, and I was plannin’ on bitin’ the bullet and tellin’ her about us in the next couple of days.”
Your eyes widened. “You were? What?”
“Yeah, uh, I had a hard time with Ellie bein’ sick, and when you came over, I didn’t feel like I was goin’ insane with worry. Havin’ you there made it better, and I missed you.” His lips dip in a frown.
“I missed you, too—you were really gonna tell her?”
“I was.” He nods. “With how happy she was to see you, I thought maybe she’d be okay with it.” He shrugs.
You smile. “I think you’re right,” you reply, giving him a quick kiss. Meeting his gaze, you ask, “Is she feeling better?”
“Yeah, and thank Christ, she is.” He looks visibly relieved. “I think it was that soup you brought over—thank you for that and for givin’ me a chance to sleep.” He pecks you on the lips.
“It was no problem. I would’ve been there the entire time had it not been suspicious.”
He smiles. “I know.”
“Good. Sooo, I’m wondering, what are we now?”
“A couple,” he answers. “I’ve thought that for a while, but I’m too fuckin’ old to be callin’ myself your boyfriend.”
“I quite like having a sexy, older boyfriend.”
You squeak in surprise when he rolls you onto your back, your legs automatically opening for him to nestle his hips between. He’s holding himself up with his arms beside your head while yours loop around his neck, his lips pressing to the side of your throat, kissing the taut skin.
“You like havin’ a sexy, older boyfriend, huh?” His question is muffled, and you swallow hard when he sucks on your pulse point.
“I do,” you reply.
“I like havin’ you.” He’s kissing and nibbling along your jaw.
“‘Cause no one else can?”
He nips your chin, then hovers his head over yours to look you in the eyes.
His expression is serious. “Yes,” he says, “and I love you—if Ellie really doesn’t give a shit about me datin’, then every fuckin’ person in town is gonna know you’re mine.”
And something about that declaration thrills you.
“I’d like that.”
He gives you a small smile and kisses you for a moment before a thought comes to him, and he pulls back to meet your gaze.
“Maybe that neighbor, the annoyin’ one who doesn’t seem to know the meanin’ of no, will finally get it through her head, I’m not fuckin’ interested.”
You glare off into the distance. “Fucking Sandra,” you seethe.
Tumblr media
The first time he met you, Joel knew he was fucked.
All he wanted to do was be polite and introduce himself to his new neighbor, then you opened the door, and his brain stopped working because you were so beautiful. It didn’t help when you blatantly checked him out, clearly undressing him with your eyes before looking entirely too pleased with what you were seeing.
If he’d been a stronger, honorable man, he wouldn’t have accepted your offer to come inside for a drink; he wouldn’t have kissed you back or laid you down on the couch to eat your pussy; he wouldn’t have let you choke on his dick or crawl into his lap and ride him; he wouldn’t have gotten so lost in being buried in your wet, warm, perfect cunt and your lips on his that he forgot to pull out when he came; he wouldn’t have gotten addicted and returned to you almost every night after.
If he’d been a stronger, honorable man, he would’ve ended things before it went too far and definitely before he fell in love with you.
From the beginning, he knew he was way too old for you, and he didn’t understand why you wanted him or kept letting him into your house. He had nothing to offer you, yet even when the opportunities arose for you to go home with men your own age, you rejected them and welcomed him into your bed instead. It made little sense that someone as young and beautiful as you would give someone like him all of your attention.
He’s lost count of how many times he’s told you that you’d be better off with somebody younger than him. It’s usually when he remembers your age or when you don’t know what he’s talking about when he brings up certain things from how life was before it all went to hell. He says the words out loud, practically a reflex at this point when the guilt gets to him, and as quickly as the feeling comes, it goes because, as he told you, he’s selfish; he doesn’t want you with someone else; he wants you all to himself. When you tell him there isn’t anyone you’d rather be with than him, it feeds something deep inside of him that won’t let you go, and hearing you say you love him has only made it stronger—you have his total devotion.
Ellie being sick messed up his head enough that in the moments when you came to mind, he was plagued with the thought that you probably found someone new. The only time he felt a modicum of peace was when you stopped by, and with that and how much his kid loved you being there, and in general, he came to the conclusion he couldn’t lose you:
It was time for him to tell Ellie.
Joel isn’t delusional; you’d grow tired of only getting his nights and the occasional day, eventually, and he needed to give you more of himself, which required his daughter to know about your relationship.
If Ellie knew, then he could give you more.
He’s ashamed of himself for hiding your relationship and, in turn, not having much to offer in terms of a future. It bothers him so much that he hasn’t been able to be with you out in the open because you deserve better than being his dirty little secret, as you call yourself.
He hates that.
He wants everyone to know you’re his and that he is yours.
When he realized he was going to tell Ellie, he started imagining how your relationship would change. You could finally have a life together, and it had him thinking about things he never would’ve considered before you and actively tried to prevent in the past, but you didn’t mind the idea of bringing a new life into the world, and he thought that might not be so bad; Jackson’s safe, and he has no doubt you’ll be a great mother—and it’s a future he’s pretty sure you want since your reactions have always been positive when he accidentally finishes inside you. That’s why tonight he decided to say fuck it and asked if he could; he wasn’t worried about the consequences anymore.
He’s kicking himself in the ass for not talking to Ellie sooner.
The only reason he hasn’t broached the subject with her is after what happened in Colorado, Joel’s treated her like she’s a fragile piece of glass that he doesn’t want to risk getting broken again—the way she lost her spark after that resort town killed him; and what happened at the hospital? If he had the chance, he’d murder every one of those Fireflies again for how fucked up she was when he told her their plans to kill her without knowing for sure if they could make a cure or not and that her life meant nothing to them.
It took a lot of time for him to put her back together again, and being in Jackson helped a lot with her making friends and having some semblance of normalcy. But he’s worried any major changes will mess her up, and add in her biggest fear of ending up alone, Joel dating seems like a recipe for disaster—Ellie will always be his top priority, even if it’s at the expense of his happiness.
It’s early morning, and he’s got another thirty minutes before the sun will begin its ascent on the horizon, fresh snow coating the ground, the temperature freezing. Joel is skulking home from your place to be there before Ellie wakes up.
His point of entry is the back door that leads into their kitchen, which doesn’t make as much noise as the front and can be locked when he leaves. He’s staying close to the side of the house, heading toward the backyard, and peeks around the corner to check the vicinity—his heart pounds when he sees a dark figure trying to get into the door, Joel pulling the knife, he walks around with, off of his belt, keeping his steps light, silently approaching them.
“Why the fuck don’t we have a light back here?” he hears them quietly mutter.
“Ellie?” Joel says at regular volume.
“Ahhh!” she screams, turning in his direction. Her hand is over her winter coat-covered chest. “Jesus Christ, Joel! Way to give me a fucking heart attack!”
He walks closer, sheathing his knife, as he says, “What the hell are you doin’ out here?”
“What the hell are you doing out here?”
His hands perch on his hips. “Doesn’t matter—you, on the other hand, just got over bein’ sick and shouldn’t be out in this cold. Move, I’m gettin’ your ass inside.”
She stepped aside, and he walked over, quickly unlocking and opening the door; he grabbed her by the shoulder and firmly guided her inside. He flicked on the room’s light once they were inside, and the door was closed and locked, Joel crossing his arms over his chest.
“Now, where the fuck have you been?” he asks.
She’s unzipping her coat. “Where the fuck have you been?”
“I asked you first.”
She shrugs off her jacket and tosses it onto the kitchen table. Joel sighs, walking over to pick it up—he’ll hang it alongside his by the front door before he goes up to his room.
“I was at the same place you were.”
He keeps his face neutral, but his heart is thudding, and he’s pretty fucking sure she wasn’t at your house.
He meets her eyes. “And that is?”
She smirks. “My secret girlfriend’s.”
“Goddammit.” His fingers press to his forehead as he closes his eyes. “You fuckin’ know—how the fuck do you know?”
“Let’s see, she’s literally the only person in town aside from me and Tommy’s family you like. You stare at her with, I don’t know what to call them, googly eyes? It’s that look the dudes have when they see the love of their life, or whatever, in those shitty romantic movies we like to make fun of. I’ve heard you call her ‘sweetheart’—” She fake gags, and Joel sighs. “—you’ve gone over to her house to fix so much shit that, at this point, it’s gotta be a whole new house. You sneak over there every fucking night. Oh, and when she sees the lady next door, the crazy one who’s got a real hard-on for you—gross by the way—when she sees ‘you can call me, Sandy,’ flirt with you—double-gross—I’m pretty sure she’s plotting murder; you’re definitely plotting murder when guys hit on your girlfriend—which, I don’t get why the two of you pretend like you aren’t together; is she embarrassed that you’re so fucking old and ugly, or something?” His teeth clench, and he glares at her. “God, don’t give me the murder eyes, Joel! I was kidding!” She playfully punches his arm. “Kind of… I mean, I’m happy you found someone who loves you even though you’re a grumpy asshole and look like that.” She points at his face.
“You done?”
“Telling you you’re old and ugly? Sure. For now. But I have one more thing that gave you guys away.”
His eyebrow lifts. “What is it?”
“When she came over the other day while I was sick as balls and hung out with me, you slept. Joel, you do not fucking sleep if there’s anyone else here besides me, which is why if I wanna have a sleepover with my friends, I have to go to their houses.”
“Were we really that obvious?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you knew?”
She’s clearly confused. “I thought we were avoiding the topic.”
“What topic?”
“Like, relationships—you never said anything to me, so I figured it was something we don’t talk about.”
He cringes. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel…”
She smiles. “I don’t give a fuck if you date, Joel—if you’re happy, I’m happy.”
He matches her look. “I’m pretty fuckin’ happy. Are you happy with your uh, girlfriend? Have I met her?”
“Yeah,” she nods, grinning. “It’s Cat!”
His eyes round—he was under the impression Cat is her best friend, and he has met the other girl many times.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re way better at this secret girlfriend stuff than I am. I had no clue. I like Cat; she’s got all those neat tattoos.”
“She does!” she replies with a grin. “And I’m getting one!”
“You’re what?!”
Tumblr media
Next - Series Masterlist - Masterlist
Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know! 
3K notes · View notes
espinosaurusrexex · 2 months
Text
Bad Boys Don't Buy Flowers
CEO!BuckyBarnes x Female!Florist!Reader AU
read Steve's story here
summary: Bucky would have never thought, he’d be chasing after a girl. Not when all of them usually fell at his feet. But when he finds himself entangled in a deal born out of a desperate argument with his assistant, he realizes there is nothing he wouldn't do for you: The independent florist who is adamantly dragging him to the homeless shelter every chance she gets. There is just one problem: Bucky doesn't know how to tell you. And the teasing from his friends is certainly not making things easier for him...
a/n: I should be working instead of writing long ass billionaire love stores, but here we are: you and me both... happy it happened and already regretting the tasks we neglected because of it (please enjoy this wholesome piece of imagination - I know it's long, but I hope you’ll give it a try nonetheless)
word count: 16.4k 😬
warnings: play boy behavior/talk, a reader that knows what she wants, Bucky falls first (and hard 🤭), mentions of war, injuries, and death (all not applying to Bucky for once), just so much fluff, questioning life choices (angst with happy ending!), smut (this is freaking love making okay?!?!? praise and confessions, dry humping, fingering, multiple orgasms, squirting, touch starved Bucky - in a way…, sensual and beautiful, protected p in v, cock warming, and aftercare) !MINORS DNI!
゚✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 。✭・゚✶ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*・゚
Tumblr media Tumblr media
"Did you place the order?" Bucky leaned back in Steve's office chair and watched as his friend paced the space with a hand in his pocket. 
Steve was grinning like an idiot when the answer on the other side satisfied him and Bucky felt a tiny little spark in his chest at the sight. He'd watched his best friend go through life with a default tension in his shoulders for what seemed like forever. All until he found Bambi - a sweet and incredibly clumsy woman who was formerly his maid. But they found each other and Steve had been a happier man ever since.
Bucky was happy for him, too. He was a lot more fun to be around ever since, but it did remind him that Bucky himself had yet to find the one that would make his heart beat faster. 
It was a ridiculous idea, of course. Bucky was never the one for relationships or long-term commitment in the romantic department. To be honest, he wasn't even sure he was capable of love - not that he needed it, anyway. He had no problem with having a new plaything every other night. It was fun and kept him on his toes. 
"Perfect. Okay. Thanks, Sharon." Bucky sat up straighter in the chair. "Yeah, next Friday. See you later."
Steve sighed as he slumped on the sofa across the room. He watched the ceiling, looking like a love-drunk schoolboy, even though he tried so hard to conceal it. Bucky knew him too well.
"Dinner is booked.”
“You’re really doing it huh?"
“Yup." There was no doubt in Steve’s answer, but rather a special kind of excitement Bucky rarely felt.
The brunette just nodded as he looked to the ground, the chair swaying as he pushed his knees from one side to the other. 
Steve just grinned in response. "So when are you gonna let me help you find the one?"
Bucky perked up, amusement seeping through his gaze when he answered his best friend. ”Me? No no. I’m fine."
Steve shrugged. ”You know, that’s exactly what I said about a year ago."
"No offense, Stevie, but you and I were in vastly different sex universes back then. I’m getting laid - I’m aaaaall good." He leaned back with a smug grin and Steve just frowned in response. "You can be as happy as you want but don’t start trying to get everyone on the girlfriend train. That’s a Rogers and Wilson thing. I don’t need that type of commitment."
Steve remained silent as he watched Bucky stand up and head for the door, a thoughtful look on his face when his friend passed him. 
“Look, I’m happy for you, truly. I just don’t see myself in that type of life.” Bucky’s hand squeezed Steve’s shoulder just as the blonde cocked his head to the side. 
“Never?”
Bucky winked at him. “You know I like to live in the present. But speaking of the future... You’re still up for tomorrow night, right?”
“Tomorrow night?"
"Ironbar."
Steve’s eyes widened. ”Shit. No, I promised Bambi we'd-" Steve stopped when he saw Bucky's eyebrows raise in amusement. “...next time."
Bucky sighed in defeat. "Tell her to leave some Steve time for the rest of us, will ya?" And with a laugh of Steve’s, he shut the office door, walked past Sharon’s desk, then Natasha’s, and then into his own office.
❁ ❁ ❁
The clock hand barely struck 8am when another set of files hit Bucky’s desk. 
Bucky huffed as he watched Natasha stand before him with an amused smile, her hands on her hips that were hugged by a tight pencil skirt. “Looking for something, Boss?”
“No...”
“Something like... the invitation to that business dinner on Thursday?” She mused and carefully pulled a piece of paper from the stack between them. 
Bucky snatched it with a glare. “It would be much more helpful if you sorted this chaos rather than stand here and be a smartass.” He looked at the invite, the familiar company logo printed in the top right corner. “And why are people even sending paper invites anymore? We’re a security firm,” he sat the paper down and tapped on it with his index finger, “just shows how desperately they need consulting.” 
“Don’t blame me for it.” Nat threw her hands in the air. “And stop complaining. I know you’re the cyber guy but a couple papers shouldn’t faze you. I’ve got more important things to do that don’t particularly fall in your area of expertise.” She turned to leave but Bucky stopped her before her heels could reach the threshold. 
“Are you saying your job is harder than mine?” Bucky watched the mess on his desk, then the computer screen with his calendar and the impending meeting with those jackasses from Hydra Enterprises. There was no way sorting a couple of papers could be worse than Alexander Pierce and his nephew Brock Rumlow. One of them barely knew how to send an E-mail and the other kept subtly asking if it was legal to install cameras in the lady’s room. 
“If you’re referring to your inability to sort a couple files, then yes, I assume you wouldn’t last a day with my tasks.” 
“Now that’s bullshit.”
“Is it now?” She raised her left eyebrow with a half-smirk. “I want to see you deal with idiots when scheduling appointments and keeping everyone’s day structured while also organizing the annual fundraiser.”
Bucky huffed, leaning back and crossing his arms before his chest. He averted his eyes from his assistant and the stupid pile of paperwork in front of him. He really did not want to sort through all of that. 
“Call me old fashioned but I believe assistants should sort files.” He shrugged, knowing Natasha wouldn’t let him off that easily. They had been working together for years, he respected her as much as his other friends. And presenting the fierce redhead with a challenge to get out of some annoying tasks was something he would gladly do. 
“I’ll tell you what. I will sort your papers in my assistant duties.” She made a mockery curtsy - as much as her skirt allowed - and then lifted her finger before the smile could spread on Bucky’s face. “If... you plan the charity event.”
Bucky was shocked. He didn’t expect her to play dirty - well to be fair, it wouldn’t be Nat if she weren’t teasing a little bit - but still. “You think you can handle that, boss?” 
Bucky closed his mouth and eyed her suspiciously. It couldn’t be that hard to do. And certainly would be a nice distraction from the impending meeting of doom as well as the following consulting sessions. He let his head fall back and stared at the ceiling. 
Was he really going to trade some papers for a whole Gala? That paperwork really sucked. He loved how easily he could wash through files on his computer. Sadly, his programs didn’t help much in the analog part of the job. 
“Are you backing down, Barnes?” Nat’s teasing voice rang through to him and he snapped back into his attitude. 
“Never.” He stood up, fixed his suit, and then reached his hand toward her. Natasha shook it with an evil smirk. “Always a pleasure doing business with you, Ms. Romanoff.”
And with that, she took the papers from Bucky’s desk and carried them out of his office with a triumphant smile. 
❁ ❁ ❁
It wasn’t long before Bucky regretted his decision. 
What had he been thinking? A Fundraiser... a fucking fundraiser. Bucky couldn’t care less about them. 
Okay, that wasn’t true. He deemed charity to be a very important part of society... and economy. There were times in his life when he was close to needing their help as well. And Bucky swore he’d never let that aspect of his story slip from his mind ever. Still, it didn’t prevent him from living lavishly and making use of the things he had access to now. 
Usually, the organization of the charity gala was stuck on Nat and Sharon. Mainly because they had always done an amazing job. The tabloids had only positive things to write about it and always pushed the number before Christmas even higher. Which urged Bucky even more to do just as good of a job this year. 
There was just one problem. 
He had no idea how to organize events this size. Bucky could program a software from scratch, hack into classified state files on a bad day. Hell, he could track every person’s phone in New York in his sleep. But he never expected to be overwhelmed by a couple invites and color palettes. 
Though as little as he knew about his new task, he liked a challenge, and he would most certainly not give Natasha the satisfaction of asking her for a checklist. 
So, the internet had to do for now. He’d found a blog by a highly motivated suburban mom, that led with step-by-step instructions on how to plan the perfect event. It might not have been on the scale of what Bucky had to do, but considering his lack of knowledge on the topic, he figured this would do until Natasha snatched the task away from him again. 
The first thing on the list was to find a date and venue. But since the gala of Shield Protection Services was always held at the same venue, Bucky figured they had booked it indefinitely for the event. 
Next was to find the perfect florist that ‘is able to put your vision into extravagant floral arrangements’. Yeah... that was another problem. 
Bucky didn’t buy flowers. The only women he deemed important enough in his life to get them were his sister and his mother. And well, both of them had passed away. So, picking the right flowers hadn’t been a problem until now. His mother and sister were always enchanted by the bouquets they received when Bucky was younger. He’d steal them from their neighbor‘s garden. But since he could grow a beard, Bucky hadn’t even touched flowers anymore.
Well, that had to change now. 
Bucky stepped into the elevator just to be greeted by big round eyes and an even wider smile. “Paying Steve a visit?” Bucky teased with a half smile as he hugged Bambi and then faced the doors. 
“I’m actually meeting Natasha for lunch,” she shifted from one foot to the other, “I didn’t realize she was already at the restaurant... so that’s where I’m headed now.”
Bucky chuckled at her slight awkwardness. But it wouldn’t be Bambi if she wouldn’t miss such a detail. 
“Do you need a ride? My driver’s waiting for me anyway.”
“Tha- yes that would be nice, thank you.”
Bucky just nodded and gestured for her to lead the way when they reached the ground floor. 
“Where are you going?” Bambi asked as he stared out the window of the car. They had told the driver where they needed to go. And Since Bucky had no particular destination in mind, it worked out well. 
“I’m on the hunt for the perfect flower shop to cater to my vision of our charity event.” He chuckled and shook his head at his own words. He’s never thought he’d say this.  
Her eyes peered at him with intrigue, a glimmer washing over them when she asked: “Are you taking suggestions?”
Bucky sat up straighter now. “Uh, yes. Gladly.” This was easier than he thought. 
“There is this wonderful shop in Brooklyn. It’s called AsGarden on 18th Avenue. You can’t miss it, it’s like a breath of fresh air between all those ugly beige buildings. The woman owning it has great taste, she managed to make the perfect bouquet for me without ever seeing me.” She turned forward, a little flustered, “Steve gets me flowers from there sometimes, they’re my favorite.”
“Did you hear that, Stan?” A victorious smile spread on Bucky’s face as he squeezed Bambi’s shoulder. “Next stop is Brooklyn.”
“Alright, Sir.”
“You don’t know how much easier you just made my life.” Bucky leaned forward and kissed her cheek before the car came to a stop and he bid her goodbye. 
“I’m glad I could help.” She waved back and then headed into the restaurant. 
Maybe the event wasn’t so difficult after all, Bucky thought as he leaned back in his seat, his legs spreading in satisfaction.
❁ ❁ ❁
The cool air snook through your shop when the familiar bell of a customer chimed above the door. You’d seen many people frequent your shop daily. Women, men, teenagers, elderly. All came from different backgrounds and varying stories in their repertoire. Your store was in the heart of Brooklyn - a bunch of people mixed in this town. And you’d made it your mission to find the perfect flower arrangement for each and every one of them. 
The man who had set off your little bell this afternoon was different though. A perfectly tailored coat adorned his broad shoulders. The way his hands were tucked in his pockets revealed the expensive-looking suit beneath as well as the toned chest that hid beneath the button-up in vain. His presence oozed money as he sashayed through your shop, carefully grazing delicate pedals with the aura he brought in. 
He seemed to own the world, but something about him just didn’t fit between the colorful flowers surrounding him. If you didn’t know any better, he looked a little lost, eyes glassy as they swayed through the sea of colors and shapes soaking in fresh water. 
“Good afternoon, sir. Can I help you?”
He ripped around, fixed his posture, and approached the cash desk. When his eyes landed on you, he froze. Just for a second, however, and then his jaw snapped into a handsome smile as he leaned forward. 
“I sure hope so.” His white teeth flashed between his lips before his tongue stroked over them. It was capturing. “This flower shop has been recommended to me. You wouldn’t happen to be the owner?”
“Well actually, I am,” you smiled hiding the pride swelling in your chest from the comment.
“Great. What is your capacity when it comes to event arrangements?”
“That depends...” You smiled as the handsome stranger raised his eyebrows in intrigue. “I reckon we have vastly different understandings of what is small and... big.” Your eyes wandered over his expensive coat again. The innuendo was accidental, really, but he seemed to be amused nevertheless. 
“My company is hosting its annual charity event in November... at The Glasshouse.”
“So just as I suspected...” You nodded and strode past him towards the fall flowers.
“Pardon me?”
You turned your head towards him and winked. “Bigger than I thought.”
“So?” He approached you with his hands still in his coat pockets and peeked over your shoulder. “Can you do it?”
“Totally.” Then you gestured to the flowers. “Do you have any preferences? I don’t have all the flowers in yet, but I recommend going with some soft orange and sage tones... to cater to the season.”
“Forgive me, sweetheart, but I am useless when it comes to this kind of stuff. My qualities lie more in the technical aspect of things.” A hand ran through his thick dark hair and the gesture made him look boyish.
“Alright let me rephrase my question then: Do you trust me?” A sly smile sneaked on his face, matching yours. 
He tipped his head. “My life is in your hands.” 
“Good. Then please write down your details here.” You pushed a form over the counter once you reached it again, and the man just followed you around like a lost dog. You watched as his hand swiftly filled out the free spaces on the paper, curious which company he had been referring to. 
“Wait you’re working for SPS?” 
“I own it, sweetheart.” The man adjusted his coat as you tried to look unimpressed. “My name is James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.” His hand extended over the shiny countertop until it encased your smaller fingers and his warmth seeped through your body. 
Bucky’s smile brightened when you revealed your name to him, telling you how beautiful it was, and you began to struggle not to show the effects it had on you. Then he resumed filling out the order and slid it over to you again. 
“What cause are you raising money for this year?” You asked as you sorted the paper into your books, only to be surprised when Bucky seemed a little nervous all of a sudden. 
You knew Shield Protection Services was a pristine company with reach to people whose powers you could barely comprehend. Whatever they were choosing, it would have a big impact on the change their chosen organization was advocating. 
“Well, to be honest... we haven’t decided yet.” A silly idea hushed through your head at that, but you dismissed it. A company such as Bucky’s would raise sums only big fish could handle. There wasn’t space for the things you had in mind. 
“I hope you’ll do so soon, then.” You nodded thoughtfully and ended with a tight-lipped smile. 
Bucky nodded and smiled, then turned around and headed for the door. But before he could open it, he came back again. You looked up to see a black card held before you. 
“I’d be happy for suggestions... if you have any in mind.” He shrugged with that cheeky look of his and then left. And you just stood there, dumbfounded, and toying with the ridiculous idea that Bucky Barnes might actually be able to read minds. 
❁ ❁ ❁
“Rogers really couldn’t make it?” Tony asked as he leaned back in the leather booth of his very own establishment. He tipped his emptied whiskey glass towards the slender redhead at the bar and smiled as she rushed to get his refill ready. 
“He promised Bambi to be home...” Bucky trailed off as he watched a customer hit on the waitress - Tiffany he remembered - A pretty thing, but unfortunately incredibly hollow when it came to conversation... not that Bucky looked for anything like it.  
Tony huffed. “That woman has him wrapped around her finger!” He liked Bambi, everyone did, he just missed hanging out with his guys. 
“Just wait until you find the one, Tony,” Sam chimed in with a sly smirk on his face - a hopeful, yet cautious hint as Sam secretly loved the idea of all his friends finally finding the one. He was a romantic, Bucky knew it, even if Sam never actually said it. 
“Me? I would never give up my glorious bachelor life for one woman. There are way too many things to explore...”
“Mark my words, Stark. We’ll look back to this day and laugh about this incredibly jackassy statement. You, too will be finding the one. I just know it.”
Bucky chuckled and tipped his glass on the Table as the bickering of his friends faded into background noise. For some reason, he didn’t feel like adding to the conversation. He blamed it on the banality of a conversation both he and Tony had long decided on, but perhaps, it was because for once in his life, he considered taking Sam’s side on the topic. 
It was ridiculous, really, how fast you’d occupied his mind when it came to Sam’s comment about finding ‘the one’. He didn’t even know you aside from the ‘background check’ he conducted after his visit to your shop. That might have covered your personal details, but he still didn’t know if you were a dog person or preferred cats, or if you were vegan or vegetarian, or if you considered kids in your future. 
Bucky cleared his throat and sat up straighter when he felt the fluster creep up his neck. What the hell was happening to him? He wasn’t like this at all. Women occupied his mind for about as long as it took for him to make them come undone in his hands. When he was with them, his full attention was on them - he loved them - but he’d never let them control his life. James “Bucky” Barnes never even considered seeing them twice, let alone thinking about a future with them. 
Though, to Bucky’s displeasure - or pleasure (he hadn’t decided yet) - the thought of seeing you again wasn’t uncomfortable to him. On the contrary, he got a weird tingly feeling in his stomach when he remembered the smell of the flowers in your shop and how your delicate fingers carefully picked out the prettiest ones. Bucky sat his drink down with a clink. Maybe he’d had enough alcohol for tonight.
“Barnes, how come you’re not defending me here? Have you grown soft or something? Do you have a girl we don’t know about?” Tony’s nagging broke through to Bucky and the whole bar reached back into his consciousness.
“Sorry, what?” He stuttered, shaking his thought and trying to find a good answer to his friend’s remark. “I was distracted by Betty.” Bucky smiled sheepishly as he received a clap on his shoulder. 
“That’s my man.” Tony grinned and Sam huffed into his whiskey. And Bucky? He just sunk into his seat, feeling somehow shameful for the white lie he had made up.
❁ ❁ ❁
The SPS office was impressive. Amongst the old New York brick building surrounding it, it reached up into the sky with its glass front everything. But you wouldn’t be fooled by its fragile looks. This was one of the most secure buildings in the city. You’d read about it in an article some time back - the whole hype about the company was their way of making fragile-looking things indestructible. You couldn’t see through the “windows” from the outside. And you wouldn’t be able to launch a rocket through it either. SPS had patented their stronger-than-steel-glass years ago, making them the leading security company in the world. 
To say you had been a little surprised to see the very owner of said company on your side of town would be an understatement. But besides his incredibly adamant way of flirting, he was quite normal to talk to. He’d even asked you for advice on the cause they should donate to this year. And after having thought about it for the better part of what should have been your sleep time, you had decided to just try and pitch your idea. 
“Do you have an appointment Ms.?” A stunning redhead peered up at you from her desk, her nails clicked on the keyboard of her computer as she waited for your answer. You didn’t really know why you thought getting to Bucky was going to be easy. The security guard had already eyed you suspiciously at the front desk in the lobby. After you’d smiled at him as charmingly as you could, he’d decided to let you be someone else’s problem today - or maybe he just didn’t see you as a threat - whatever it was, it had gotten you this far. But what were you gonna say now?
Actually, I don’t have an appointment, but Mr Barnes met me yesterday and after thinking about him all night, I decided to pay him a visit today.
Yeah, that wouldn’t cut it. Not in this office. The redhead - N. Romanoff - was what her sign said, made that fairly clear with the way her lips pursed at the opened calendar on the screen. 
“You don’t happen to have to discuss something not suited for work with Mr. Barnes, do you? I know he tends to leave some of his meetings... open-ended.” 
Your eyes got wide. “God, no. I’m not-“ Your hands made a swishing motion between you two and then you took a breath. “I’m here to discuss business. Purely business. Mr. Barnes has made an order at my shop for the company fundraiser and I just want to discuss some details.” 
Her eyes glimmered when her lips pulled into a smile. “Did he now?” She peered over to catch the look of the blonde assistant a few feet next to her and then back to you. “Well if that is the case, please have a seat, I’ll tell him you’re here.” And with that, she got up, winked, and wrapped at the large wooden door presumably leading to Bucky’s office. 
She came back a minute later and gestured for you to enter. “Lucky for you, his meeting just got canceled, so you should have enough time.”
“Thank you.” And then Ms. Romanoff went back to her desk and started whispering to the blonde assistant. 
Bucky sat behind his desk, a sleek glass surface lightly cluttered with papers. Other than that, the room felt cool, the large rug by the seating area did little to cover the marbled floors. You stepped inside just as Bucky called out your name. You almost didn't see the wide smile on his face as the rising sun hung low on the horizon behind him, casting a halo-like glow around his silhouette. What a freaking entrance. Though Bucky surely couldn’t control the sun, you thought with a small smile, you really had to stop imagining this man was extraordinary. 
“You’re here.” He got up and walked towards you, his sleek back shoes echoing on the ground. And then he was next to you, leading you to the seat in front of his desk with his hand on the small of your back. “What brings me the honor of your visit, darling.”
He leaned on his desk with his arms crossed, a pleasant smile on his lips. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice that you came by, but you do have my number, don’t you?”
“I do.” You cleared your throat, trying to sound as convincing as possible. “I was hoping you had some time to spare, actually. I find the phone to be a little... impersonal.”
Bucky’s eyes shined with intrigue as he leaned forward, pinning you to the chair with his gaze. He licked his lips. “Show me what exactly?”
“You’ll see.” You smirked. “I happen to know that your next meeting just got canceled.”
Bucky got even closer, his breath hitting your neck with every word he spoke. “And I’ll gladly cancel the rest, too.” A shiver shot over your arms, his cologne seemingly intoxicating you. But before you could respond, he backed up, grabbing his coat and gesturing towards the door. “Lead the way.” 
And so you did. 
❁ ❁ ❁
Bucky was suspicious when you pulled him into the subway, but he decided against saying something. He had told you he trusted you after all, and though Bucky considered himself a lot of things, a flake was not one of them. So he let it happen. 
It wasn’t half bad, either. Somewhere between his office door and the train, you had taken his hand in yours to pull him along faster. Bucky had noticed his lips spreading into a smile. It didn't last long, unfortunately. Because as he had made eye contact with an elderly lady who had then proceeded to tell you what a beautiful couple you were, you had pulled your hand away with an awkward laugh. 
‘Oh, God, no, we’re not together, ma’am.’ 
Admittedly, Bucky felt a little sting in his chest ever since. In fact, he was rubbing his hand over his shirt at this very moment. You were walking along a street in Brooklyn, not too far from your shop. The neighborhood was a little more run-down than he was used to, certainly nothing like the part of town he lived in. But he kept quiet still. Maybe he was a little butthurt from your earlier aversion about the couple comment, but to be fair, Bucky wasn’t used to women denying him - except Nat. 
You suddenly stopped, making Bucky almost run into you and then stare at you in question. But when you gestured towards the sign above the two-story building, his gaze softened. 
There, above the blue-painted metal doors, hung a faded sign. Bucky could make out the orange and yellow stripes on the board, a big Sunflower painted in the middle of it all. ‘Sunflower -Shelter & Food’.
“Hey, are you coming or are you glued to the ground?” Your voice rang from the entrance, he hadn’t even noticed that you already moved inside. 
Bucky gulped when his eyes swayed back to you and then down his own body. If he was going to step in there in the outfit he was currently wearing, he would look like the biggest asshole on the planet. 
“I can’t go in there.”
“Why not?”
He just gestured towards his clothes, his Rolex glinting in the sunlight for good measure. But there was no reaction from you. You stood in the doorway, pursing your lips seemingly in thought, and then shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. “I guess you’ll just have to deal with it then.”
“What?” He called your name. But when he realized you weren’t joking, he caught up to you as fast as possible. Because the only thing worse than showing up there looking like he did was doing it alone, he decided swiftly. 
“‘Think now might be a good time to mention that this is not a very good place for a date,” Bucky mumbled next to you before closing his coat, trying to hide the even more expensive suit beneath. 
“How would you know?” You turned to him. “This isn’t a date, is it?”
Bucky just smirked and then he watched you greet a young boy with a warm hug, and man he imagined what it would be like to have you hug him like that. 
“Peter this is Bucky, Bucky, Peter.” You pulled him towards you by his hand again. “I brought him along to help today, thought we always need an extra pair of hands around here.”
“Pleasure to meet you, sir.” Peter reached his hand out, slightly frowning when he took in his appearance but did not say anything. “Any help is always welcome here. Come, I’ll show you what we’re doing today.” 
Within ten minutes, Bucky had an apron and gloves on and was ordered to cut the biggest stack of potatoes he’d ever seen. You were happily chatting away with the other helpers and Bucky, for the first time in a long time, felt ...normal. 
Nobody was recognizing him in the crowd, there was no talk about business and investments, and there were no fucking cameras. Here, people recognized him for what he came to do, help. And it felt weird. Bucky wasn’t quiet about his lavish lifestyle around his crowds. He knew the privilege he had, and he had worked for it enough to be proud of it. But it was like he had entered a different universe in this part of town. All the things he deemed normal, were things so far from imagination here, they were left out of conversations entirely. So, he tried to remember this whenever he was offered a conversation. 
“You do this every day?” He asked into the kitchen while struggling to peel his 5th potato. 
“Whenever we can.” An older woman answered with a smile. She was the one who had shown him how to use the peeler faster. “They are people just like you and me. They have to eat every day, too, Bucky.”
Bucky just nodded in silence at the humbling answer, his cheeks felt hot with embarrassment at how naive he had been. 
Two hours later, he was standing by your side at the serving station, plating mashed potatoes and the accommodating ‘you’re welcome’ every once in a while. He rarely was out of his comfort zone, like today. But he also knew that, whenever he felt unsure, he’d look at you and you’d gift him an encouraging gesture that kept him going a little while longer. 
After everyone had their food, you gave Bucky a tour of the premises. 
There was a small courtyard, a couple rooms with telephones and a computer, some sofas and pillows. Nothing fancy but functional nonetheless. You led him through every room, explaining curtly what it was for and then you led him up the stairs.
On your way up, you passed Peter, who was helping a child find its toy and Bucky felt a lump form in his throat at all the new impressions he was fed today.
He cleared his throat. “Peter... is he?”
You shook your head. “Not exactly. His parents died when he was quite young. Lucky for him, though, he has always been a bright kid. He got a scholarship for every school he ever went to. But he spends most of his free time here. He has this urge to help wherever he can. Took me a couple months to keep him from skipping his lectures.” You chuckled and led him through the next door. 
Bucky nodded with adoration. Not many people dedicated their time to something that would not benefit them directly. And while Bucky knew what a dedicated mind was capable of, he had to admit that his efforts were always motivated by personal gain. 
“He’s very admirable for that.” 
You just hummed in response. “I don’t think he chose it himself. Not that I think he wouldn’t. But this shelter belonged to his uncle and aunt. They died when he was in high school. He’s working hard to keep this place alive. As do we all.”
The next room you entered was resembling a classroom. “What happens here?”
“Most of the children are registered for the public school of this district. But they don’t always make it there. This room gives them the opportunity to catch up on missed work. We also have adult classes here, preparing for job interviews and such.”
The next hallway presented doors, all leading to bedrooms, as you explained to Bucky when you walked through the corridor. The last door was larger than the others - a double swing leading to a big sanitary area. Showers, toilets, and sinks lined the walls - all run down but functional. 
“This place could use some serious renovating,” Bucky mumbled, but he was sure you had heard him. Because you looked up at him now, a sad smile decorating your beautiful face. 
“We try to make it as clean and cozy as possible here, but we just don’t have the necessary financial means for it. It works for now. The people coming here need very little. But it’s only a matter of time until the roof needs redoing or the pipes or the windows, or the-“
“Yeah...” Bucky trailed off, making you stop and giving him a break to breathe. He usually wasn’t surrounded by people unable to get out of unfortunate situations. The clients he spent his time with ordered his services to protect the material things they’d bought for status and fun. It was something entirely different when you were robbed of your place to sleep. 
“Well, this completes my humble tour.” You clasped your hands together and proceeded to look at your watch. “I think it’s time to go home.”
You descended the stairs in silence, Peter hugged Bucky goodbye and when he stepped foot back on the sidewalk, Bucky turned around to the sign once more. You stood beneath it, leaning against the doorframe and smiling at him. It was dark out now. 
“Are you not coming?” He asked watching as you shook your head. 
“Peter has an exam tomorrow. I offered to stay the night.”
“Here? Alone?”
“Yes.” 
Bucky stepped towards you again. “Then I’m go-“
“Stop.” Your hand reached for his shoulder, the touch sending him straight back to a haze. “Don’t do this. I know how you feel. There’s this sadness inside you now. You saw this for the first time. It feels awful - I know.” You retracted your hand and pushed yourself off the doorframe. “But until you don’t see anything other than pity for these people, you can’t be here without breaking.”
“Doll...”
“Bucky, I'm serious. Go home. Sleep on it. Try to understand the situation.” 
Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this helpless. He just stared at you, unable to move or say anything. He didn’t like the idea of you staying here alone at night. And though the feeling of caring for someone he’d only known for two days so much scared him, he pushed it aside. 
You leaned forward and hugged him goodbye and then the cold night surrounded him again. “Thank you for trusting me today.” And then you turned around and left him standing outside alone. 
❁ ❁ ❁
Your purple-inked pen marked the date in your calendar. 
“That’s an unusually big order, Steve...” You looked up at the blonde frequenting your shop every so often. He’d always get the pink carnations for his girlfriend. Apparently, she loved them after you bound them in the first bouquet you ever sold to Steve. He was a simple man, you could tell, so his usual orders were just as such. But not today. “Are you planning anything special?”
The handsome customer blushed with an innocent smile. “Actually...” He scratched the back of his neck. “I’m planning to propose.” He looked so sheepish when you clasped your hands in excitement.
“Oh, that’s amazing. Congratulations!”
“Well not yet.” He cleared his throat, visibly trying to compose himself. But this giant pretty man in front of you was adorably nervous. 
“I just know she’ll say yes,” you mused and made a note to reserve some more carnations for his order - a couple simple arrangements that held so much meaning.
“How do you know?”
You watched Steve peer over to you with hopeful eyes. “It’s not every day a man puts so much effort and thought into what bouquet to get his girlfriend on a casual Monday evening each week.” You winked and Steve nodded lost in thought. 
“To be honest, I haven’t even thought about her saying no. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”
“You shouldn’t worry too much. You are a good man, everyone can see that. And just to be sure, I’ll make the most perfect flowers ever. Paired with your charming ways, there will be no other option but to say yes.”
He relaxed a little. “Great. Thank you.” And then he turned to leave your shop. 
“I’ll have them ready by Friday.” You smiled. 
“Thank you... so much.” Steve smiled and you knew there was so much more hidden in his gesture.
❁ ❁ ❁
It had become a habit that Bucky visited the shelter with you once a week. Admittedly, you were surprised he even cared enough to free his schedule so religiously. But as of the past four weeks, he had shown up at your shop, walked with you to Sunflower shelters, mingled with the people, and then even walked you home. 
It was actually kind of refreshing, seeing him so invested and kind of protective. There weren’t many guys in the city that cared enough to get you home safely. Peter offered more times than often, but you rather knew him safe at the shelter than try to fight a gangster double his size out of the kindness of his heart and the deep wish to somehow become a superhero one day.
So Bucky had to do it for now. Not that you were complaining. He was handsome and charming and interesting to converse with given the vastly different lives you lived. But he tried to adapt. Ever since the incident on the first day, he had even tried to wear less wealth-telling clothing, though he seemed to not always hit the mark just right. 
In a way, bucky was a little fashion icon. You’d noticed it in his colorful waistcoats, the intricate details on his shoes, or the fancy cufflinks adorning his oxford-cotton shirts. He tried to dress down. But to your surprise, the color remained. Instead of waistcoats and dress shirts, he wore regular t-shirts. His confidence never wavered.  
A little smile hushed across your face every time you looked at him. The pink shirt he wore combined with the green apron he had been given, made him look like a lollipop. A Beautiful one, that was. With a dashing smile and an adorable frown as he tried to separate the peas from the pod. 
“So... how is the gala coming along?” You teased him a little having noticed how unusual this task was for him. Throughout your few meetings, you had gotten to know Bucky quite well. And apart from his statement the very day he stepped foot into your shop, he revealed to you more and more how difficult the project was for him.
“Let’s just say I’m glad I can count on the flower arrangements,” he grumbles as a pea slipped from his fingers and across the table. 
“That bad, huh?”
His hands stopped working. “The Band canceled on me again and I seem to run after every other arrangement I have made so far. If I had known how much work-“ he huffed and then shook his head with an even deeper frown. 
“Hey, it’s okay to not be good at everything.” You encouraged him, your elbow nudging his side as you smiled lightly. “There has got to be something humbling you. Makes you seem more human.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“I meant to ask you...” You picked up your task to avoid his eyes that were suddenly on you again. “How come you’re the one organizing the gala?”
Bucky chuckled, his head shaking for what seemed like the hundredth time today. “I made a deal with my assistant.” 
“What was in it for you?” You threw a couple peas in the strainer and Bucky did the same.
He shrugged. “I got to hand off some paperwork.”
Wow. “Seriously? A bit of paperwork seems like a poor trade for months of organizing something so important.”
Bucky laughed, the sound warming your stomach from the inside out and finally making you look at him again. It was little moments like this in which he felt so careless and relaxed. You liked to believe the shelter did it to him, or maybe even you. But primarily, you were glad he laid off his work self just then. “Yeah it might have not been my smartest move... but I don’t mind it really.”
“Why’s that?” Your eyes locked and you suddenly became very aware of how close the two of you were standing. 
“If it weren’t for the deal, I would have never met you.” There was something so honest and pure about the way he had stated this so plainly. And for a moment, you liked to forget that he might have just meant your suggestion to donate to Sunflower. That maybe, the funny fluttery feeling in your stomach wasn’t one-sided, and that you too meant something greater to him than the coincidences that led him into your shop that day. 
A wide smile spread on Bucky’s face and then he winked. He freaking winked at you. And while you turned back to your peas, desperate to hide the fluster on your face, you had to remind yourself that this was Bucky fucking Barnes and that he knew what he was doing.
About two hours later, you sat amongst the people currently living at the shelter, sharing the meal you had prepared for them with the hopes of getting them through another day. You and Bucky were sitting with Gabe Jones, a veteran whose post-traumatic stress disorder had cost him everything after the Vietnam War. He was always telling stories of his time on the front - a way to cope with his horrible past. By now, you and Peter had probably heard every single one of his stories twice. But Bucky was on the edge of his seat. Listening with intrigue as the food on his plate remained untouched. 
“It was ’68 when I was sent out. There were soldiers who done already survived a year or so at the front. And, son, I am sayin’ survived ‘cause you couldn’t call that livin’.” Gabe shook his head before pointing his fork to his shoulder. “Caught a grenade in ’69 and on our way to camp, they shot at the helicopter. Lost my right arm and comrade that day. The damn arm’s gone but I’m gon’ have the memory forever.”
The words didn’t seem to affect the veteran anymore, but they never failed to leave their recipients shocked and wondering. It was always the same question: How can someone fight for a country, leave their life for a country, and end up here?
And honestly? You didn’t know. 
“I’m so sorry, sir.” Bucky swallowed as his eyes fled over to yours. “Thank you for your service.”
“Notin’ to be sorry ‘bout.” Gabe waved his hand and then pointed at Bucky’s plate. “You eatin’ that?” 
Bucky just shook his head and pushed his plate towards Gabe, a somber state overtaking his body. You did feel a little bad. But you also knew that Gabe wasn’t affected by sympathies and that he was happy at Sunflower - though he preferred the street over the beds here. While he had spent just another day existing, he had simultaneously opened Bucky’s eyes to the severity of making stories like his more known. 
By now you were pretty confident, Bucky would choose the homeless as recipients for his company’s fundraiser sum. But he surprised you by getting involved with the people here over and over again, willing to learn and to understand. 
The walk to your apartment building that evening was awfully quiet. Bucky had insisted he walk on the street side of the sidewalk, buried his hands in his coat pockets, and shut up ever since.
You knew he was contemplating, letting the day play on repeat in his mind. He probably had a lot of questions, a lot of frustration, and worry. Nothing unfamiliar to you, but something you’d learned to deal with ever since helping out at Sunflower. 
“Don’t feel bad,” you said when you stopped in front of the familiar brick building you called home. 
“How?”
“Feeling bad isn’t helping them. You have the power to change things.” It was an awfully dry response, but the truth hurt sometimes. 
Bucky just looked at you through hooded eyes, a knowing nod shaking his features as he watched slowly take a step back toward your front door. 
“Thank you,” he suddenly released - steady and calm. “For taking me. For helping me see...” 
You couldn’t help yourself. The confession overwhelmed you. Knowing you had succeeded in showing him what was so important to you overwhelmed you. You leaped forward and slung your arms around him, pressing tightly into his chest. 
Bucky’s arms found their way around you in an instant, the hug conveying so much more than just a goodbye. It was a ‘thank you’ a ‘this means the world to me’.
After about a minute, you leaned up to him and placed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m also glad you took the deal, Bucky.” You whispered into his ear, feeling the smile on his face on your cheek. 
When he finally released you, it seemed like the spell was gone. Bucky was back to burying his hands in his pockets, only the faint remnants of a smile hinting towards your earlier interaction. You hadn’t realized how much this would affect him. You had forgotten how long you fought with yourself until you could act normal around the people at Sunflower yourself. 
“Do you want to come up?” You threw your thumb over your shoulder at the entrance of the building with a lopsided smile. “Don’t want that cheap bottle of merlot to go bad.”
Bucky’s eyes brightened underneath the street lights and the wide boyish grin returned to his face. “We can’t have that, can we?”
❁ ❁ ❁
To say Bucky’s heart had skipped a beat at your invitation would have been an understatement. It did somersaults and ended with an impressive backflip. He’d not expected a move from your side. Especially, since the last time he had picked you up, the universe had flipped him the bird by sending two of his former one-night-stands your way. He had been able to shake them off before they were able to yell at him or reveal more of what their connection to him was. But that marked the first time he was a little embarrassed by his late endeavors. You had acted like nothing happened, but since that night, Bucky hadn’t stopped wondering what you thought of him. 
You lead him up the narrow staircase to a red wooden door, the color chipping by the floor as an indicator of having to kick it to open sometimes. Beyond the door, it was cozy and warm. Every corner of your place had a memory placed in it - a self-made quilt or a photograph. When you walked through it, Bucky could feel the love and time this place had seen. 
It was nothing like his own apartment: a penthouse standing high above the city, with sleek black surfaces and cold marble wherever you reached. Here, he felt the need to take his shoes off, to feel the fuzzy carpets on the scratched-up wooden floors. Your place wasn’t sterile like his, it felt... like a good hug. 
Bucky snorted as the result of a breath he released. Never before had he cared about what his place lacked. It was expensive and pristine, clean and big. And even though your apartment was about the size of his living room, it had so much more to offer. 
“The living room is right through there, you can choose a movie if you like.” Your voice called out from somewhere Bucky assumed to be the kitchen as he kicked off his shoes and made himself comfortable on the rust-colored sofa that had more pillows than necessary. It was super comfortable, though. And the lack of space due to the pillows forced you to sit a little closer to him, so he wasn’t complaining.
“Your place is... cute.” He stated as you handed him a glass of wine and laughed. 
“It’s a shoebox but I do love it very much. Probably nothing compared to what you’re used to.”
Bucky shook his head and took a sip. The wine did taste cheap, but he did not care. “Bigger isn’t always better.” His arm was spread on the backrest but your whole body was turned to him. “It has a lot of character.”
“Oh god, please stop, you’re just making it sound worse.” Your hand came up to hide your face but your smile peeked through the gesture. 
Bucky laughed. “I didn’t mean it condescendingly. I really do like it. Reminds me of my childhood home.”
“Are you close with your family?” Bucky was surprised by the question. Maybe it was because his friends never talked about his family, or because the peers he hung out with tended to discuss business rather than sentimental. But he realized that nobody had asked him about it for a long time.
And so he began talking. Bucky talked about his parents and how both of them died early in his life. He told you how close he was with his sister until she got adopted into another family. He spoke about his childhood with Steve and how they’d met Sam and Tony in college, about the night they had the idea for Shield Protective Services, and finally the day he was told his sister had passed away. 
Throughout his story, you had leaned into him closer, hanging onto his every word until your hand had to support your body on his thigh and Bucky suddenly stopped talking. 
Your glasses were emptied, the bottle as well, and Bucky gulped when he felt the heat from your hand travel throughout his entire body. 
“So... that’s my story.” He had to clear his throat to gain his usual timber back, his hands becoming sweaty when you blinked next to him. “What about you, dove?”
“Dove?” You smiled, yet intrigued by the name that had slipped past his lips in the trance of the moment. He’d only ever called you that in his thoughts. Attributed the nickname to you the second he realized it was the most fitting one of them all. 
“You don’t like it?” He asked, his arm slipping towards your shoulder ever so slightly. 
“I like it.” You smiled. “I just want to know... why this one?”
A hush of giddiness crawled up his throat when he thought about his answer. It was the way you had welcomed him so easily into this world of yours. How you were willing to show him the things precious to you. That you trusted him with this very opportunity to help. Every day he spent with you he felt it, found that between coding his new security program and meeting with Hydra enterprises, its somber reality sent him into a feeling of breathing fresh air. You created a button that turned off the noise in his head. “Because you bring me peace.”
Your eyes stared at him in wonder when he tilted your chin with his thumb and index finger. There was appreciation and happiness, he could see it, feel it. 
Bucky was entranced by your stare when your voice whispered a response to him: “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever been told.”
You leaned forward and Bucky’s heart threatened to jump out of his chest, and then your face fell into his chest, your arms encasing him in the warmest hug he’d ever received. He willed his pulse to slow and wrapped his arms around you tightly. A little humbled and a little confused, but appreciative of the situation nonetheless. 
You stayed like this when you chose a movie to watch. Even after an hour, Bucky’s grip didn’t loosen. He peered down at you on his chest and watched as you fell asleep. And when he was sure you were far away in your slumber, he pressed a warm kiss to your head, lingering in the scent of your shampoo.  
❁ ❁ ❁
Bucky stared at his computer screen as the pen in his hand clicked on his glass desk in perfect rhythm. The Shelter website displayed on the surface, portraying a brighter version of the sign you had dragged him to that very first day. 
But it wasn’t the heartfelt story behind the building or the way his pen clicked slightly more hollow every other tap because he turned it too much that had him zoned out at work. It was - as unbelievable as it sounded - a woman. Not just any, no. You. 
“Hey, I need a signature from you for this design draft.” Steve dropped his notepad on the desk, then rounded it and settled behind Bucky who had yet to recognize his presence. 
“This your charity suggestion?” He questioned with his hands on his friend’s office chair. 
Bucky nodded absentmindedly. Perhaps it was because he had decided to support your suggestion the second you had taken his hand on his way to the subway. Or maybe he was just letting his mind roam freely again. Mainly because it was a safe bet to call you into memory and he liked the feeling it provided. 
A pale hand waved in front of his face. “Earth to Bucky.” Steve snapped his fingers, making the brunette jump. “You seem oddly distracted.”
He had been thinking about you. Of course, he had. There seemed to be nothing else he could do lately. Every time Bucky read through his reports, he imagined what your voice would sound like reading them to him. Whenever he went down to IT, he envisioned the room decorated with your flowers and how much happier they would make the place. When he sat in a meeting with HR and watched their burnt-out faces stare back at him through their coffee haze, he wondered if you could make them as lively as you made him. 
Bucky could - so he realized after weeks of denial - not escape you. 
That was one thing. But the more chilling revelation was that he did not mind. He enjoyed the little admonitions his mind set out in his environment. He appreciated the quickening thumb in his chest, whenever he saw his calendar entries stating another meeting with you - so much so that he almost forgot how unusual it was for him. 
It was crazy. A month ago, if someone had dared to tell him he’d be finding something more than his regular flings, he would have laughed in their face. In fact, he actually did a few days before he met you. 
Bucky didn’t know what kind of magical spell you’d put on him, but within a few weeks, he’d started to become a different man. A better version of his thought-to-be-marvelous self. Now he realized what he was missing: a counterpart, someone who made life seem dull without them by his side. He wasn’t going to admit it to Sam or Steve immediately, but the idea of you being that very someone became more attractive each day. 
“Just a lot to do with the gala and all...” Bucky trailed off and spun around to Steve. 
“You know, I never took you for an event manager...” The blonde grinned and his eyes lit up in the office light. “Don’t take this the wrong way, I like seeing you try something new, but this feels very... out of place.”
“But you also know I never back down from a challenge. And I’ll be damned if Nat has something to hold against me for life.”
Steve’s head tipped forward. “We both know that woman has blackmail material for two lifetimes on us. 
“She really does.” Bucky sighed and then slumped back in his chair, the little issue he had been hiding from his best friend gnawing on his mind. 
He thought about Steve and Bambi and how he had just asked her to marry him. She’d said yes, of course, nobody expected otherwise. Steve - of all people - was living a magical fairytale life with the woman of his dreams. And here Bucky was, thinking he had figured it all out with women and relationships - or rather that he never wanted one - yet he found himself wondering why that decision bugged him so much when you came into the picture. 
“Can I ask you something?” Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, not believing he was really going to ask Steve for dating advice.
“Always.”
“How did you know that Bambi was the one?” A stupid question, really. Bucky already knew there was nobody like you. But it was best to start this conversation off lightly.
Steve smiled widely again, his cheeks tinted pink. “Well, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. And not in an I haven’t touched a woman in years kind of way... I couldn’t stop. Every second of every day, I imagined her with me. The thought of her made me happier even before she knew how I felt about her. And, well, it also hurt like hell when I thought she didn’t return my feelings... when she refused to talk to me for a day...” He cleared his throat and then eyed Bucky again. “Why do you want to know?”
“Nothing in particular. I was just wondering and I needed material for my best man speech.” But the blonde didn’t buy it. He caught Bucky’s chair when he attempted to turn away, pulling him right back in front of him. “Are you dating someone? Is it that woman from the flower shop?”
How did he know about you? “No??” Bucky squinted at Steve. 
“You know if you wanted advice, I do consider myself an expert to some extent now.” Bucky wanted to wipe the smug grin right off his friend’s face. 
“You’re an idiot.” He stood up and paced to the window.
“Oh come on, Buck.” Steve followed suit, the playful grin ever present. “You teased me for years about my love life, can’t be mad now.”
“I’m not mad.” He was annoyed. 
They stood by the glass front for a while, watching the busy city unfold beneath them in the glow of the rising sun. Bucky could feel his friend’s eyes stare at him though. And after another moment of silence, the blonde finally spoke. “You should ask her out.”
“What?” He faced him again. 
“You like her. I can tell. And you’ve never acted like this about a woman, let alone put so much effort into a relationship. I know it’s not your style, but I think it would do you good to at least try.”
“The effort is for the gala.” Bucky corrected. 
“Right. Because that’s your thing... charity galas.” Steve squeezed Bucky’s shoulder and then tapped it and then he made his way to the door. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I really wish you would listen to your heart and not be a stubborn dickhead for once. This could be something life-changing - something great. And it’s your choice whether you welcome it or not.”
Life changing. Bucky didn’t like the sound of that. He liked to be in control of the situation and rule over his own life. However that aspect seemed to have left the building when you entered. 
He huffed. There you were back on his mind again, and he felt the tingle creep up his throat. There was no denying it. What Steve had described with Bambi was what Bucky had with you. 
With a shake of his head, he grabbed his coat, told Nat he’d be back in an hour, and then pressed the button for the elevator. He would deny it if Steve ever dared to take pride in convincing him to do so, but he’d also be damned if he didn’t at least try to find out if you felt the same. 
❁ ❁ ❁
There was a burly-looking stranger standing at the counter when Bucky entered your shop. He had willed the traitorous voice in his head to silence all the way here. But now that he saw the handsome older man taking all your attention to the point you hadn’t even noticed him stepping in over the customer's broad shoulders, the heat began to bubble up again. 
Bucky wanted to tell himself you wouldn’t prefer the salt-and-pepper-bearded man over him. But to be honest, he didn’t even know what your type was. Yes, you had cuddled on your sofa just the other night, but since Bucky wouldn’t consider himself an expert in anything other than one-night stands, it could have been a friendly gesture for all he knew. 
“Would that be all for you?” You asked the man and handed him his chance. Bucky watched as his thumb grazed over your hand, feeling a tinge of anger starting to consume him.  
“That’s all. Thank you, sweetheart.”
“I hope to see you again soon, sir.”
“Oh, you can bet on it.” He winked then turned, nodded to Bucky in a brief greeting, and then exited the shop. Bucky’s eyes lingered on the door for a while longer. He took deep breaths as his jaw clenched and the bell above the entrance fell silent. 
“Hey.” A warm hand touched his arm, pulling him right back to your eyes. And just like that, the anger washed away a little. There were just you and him in your tiny oasis amid Brooklyn. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine.” He forced a smile, but the frown on his face probably betrayed him. “Just thought that man was a little inappropriate.” 
“He’s just a sweet man buying flowers for his wife.” Your eyes glimmered with mischief when you bit your lip. “Bucky... are you jealous?”
Oh, hell no.
“Jealous?” Bucky wasn’t jealous. He couldn’t be. There was nothing to be jealous of. He had no claim to you. Even if he really wished he did. And yet that man had angered him with only the touch of his hand. That was the only thing he’d ever get. Bucky knew what it felt like to have you in his arms, how your body lotion settled in his nose, how your head fit perfectly in the crook of his neck. “No.”
“But you should not be so naïve, dove. Married men are also flirting... and cheating.”
A short laugh escaped your throat before you caught yourself again and Bucky’s heart began doing that funny somersault thing. “Not to burst your bubble or anything, but I do know how the real world works.” You crossed your arms before your chest. “Besides, what do you care if he did ask me out? Maybe it has been a lifelong dream of mine to be a mistress.”
“It’s not. And I don’t. I just think you deserve someone better than a cheater.”
“Oh, like who? The percentage of good guys in this city is disappointingly low.”
Bucky snorted, guided by the excitement in his chest he opened his arms. “Please, I could name at least five guys off the top of my head who are better than whatever that was.” His left hand flailed in the direction of the door, referring to the previous customer. 
“Name one.”
“Me.”
The surprise sprung onto your features faster than Bucky realized what he had said. “What?” 
Well, this was certainly not the way he had planned to ask you out today. Damn jealousy. The only way for this to not be embarrassing was to own up to it now. It was what he had come here for after all, right?
Bucky looked directly into your eyes, his expression sincere and determined. "Yes, me. I may not have everything figured out, but I do know one thing: I care about you. I've seen the way you light up a room, the kindness you show to everyone around you. You deserve someone who sees that, who appreciates it.”
Your eyes softened when you shook your head, averting your gaze to the ground. “I don’t know, Bucky.”
He bit the insides of his cheeks, instantly hoping you’d say something else. Anything that would show him there was a chance you would change your mind. The silence was all-consuming, but he kept his mouth shut, careful not to fuck it up once again. 
“Bucky, I appreciate your honesty, I really do. But I don't think it's a good idea.”
Bucky's brows furrowed, his confidence wavering as your soft refusal hit him. "What do you mean, you don't know?" he asked, his tone tinged with a hint of frustration. He struggled to keep his composure, the unfamiliar feeling of rejection gnawing at him. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he searched for the right thing to say. His jaw tensed, betraying the hurt he felt deep down. "Forget it," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. With a curt nod, he turned on his heel, his disappointment palpable in the air as he made his exit, leaving you to contemplate his unexpected confession.
❁ ❁ ❁
“Why, don’t you just look precious!” You bent down and picked up Sam’s daughter, Darla, who had eagerly stormed through the door as soon as he’d opened it because she wasn’t quite tall enough to reach the handle yet. 
“You... I’ve missed you soooo much.” You nuzzled her into your chest and pretended to squeeze real tight. 
“Come play dragons with me!” The little one squirmed and then hopped off in her tiny knight costume.
“Nothing I would rather do,” you singsonged and then mouthed a ‘she’s grown so much’ to Sam before he closed the door with a shake of his head. 
“I know... she just does it without my permission. Unbelievable.”
About ten minutes later, you sat on the living room floor with a bunch of stuffed dragons, you had been instructed to play. Sam’s daughter was happily fighting the stuffies with her wooden sword and his husband handed you a cup of coffee with a smile. 
“So how have things been?” Matt sat down on the sofa and Sam instantly wrapped his arm around him. Your eyes lingered on the interaction for a second before your gaze wandered back to Darla. 
“Oh, you know, business as usual. The shop is doing very well... the shelters are holding up.” You smiled at her and then made a dragon fall backward in defeat. 
“Hm...” He frowned. “That’s weird... I had a feeling it was getting better soon.”
You smiled tight-lipped and wondered if you had butchered it all with your stubbornness. Matt wasn’t clairvoyant or anything crazy like it. But the joke of his other senses being heightened due to his impaired vision had carried on forever. And even though you never believed in supernatural magical things, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, there was a hunch of truth to it nonetheless. He had been right about many other things after all. 
“I don’t know,” you sighed and Darla excused herself to her room to ‘get more toys’. “Except for the shop, everything else seems to go a little downhill right now.”
“But you have been seeing someone, no?” Matt tilted his head and Sam squeezed his shoulder in an attempt to make him stop. 
“Babe, do we need to talk about appropriate prying again?” 
“Sorry,” Matt blushed, “Occupational hazard.”
You laughed and then turned serious again. “I have... but to be honest, I doubt it will have a future. It’s - I don’t know - it just seems a little too good to be true.”
“It’s been Bucky you’ve been seeing, hasn’t it?” Sam chimed in with a calm deep voice, making your attention snap to him. Your heart began to race at the mention of Bucky’s name. 
“How did you know?”
His fingers lifted in air quotes “A gorgeous girl with a flower shop in Brooklyn that somehow tries to convince him to donate to Sunflower shelters? You did not make it hard, honey.”
“He... he talks to you about me?” Well, that changes things, you thought as you watched Sam reassure you with a small smile. 
"More like a little birdy told me...." Sam shrugged. “What happened?” He leaned forward slightly, his eyes holding concern.
“Isn’t it obvious? I don’t want to be one of his many trophies. And I’m scared, I just made the chase attractive by not putting out immediately.” Your eyes turned glassy. “What if he will lose interest when I do.” Your voice broke, making you almost whisper the last part into the living room. “Because I really really want to...”
Matt cleared his throat. “If it helps anything... I have a feeling you are not going to be just another one-night stand.”
“And why is that?”
“I’ve never seen him like this.” Sam chimed in. “So butthurt about a girl or even put effort in a relationship that would only become a one night stand - which it is not - he wants more, he needs more. He sees a future with you. And as much as his bad-boy demeanor has made that pretty unbelievable in the past, he is changing. I just know, and it’s about time that he aims for peace and quiet and love and comfort.”
Turning your head with a suspicious grin, you answered: “Is Matt contagious? Because that sounded one hell of a lot like a prediction to me.”
Sam just shook his head with a smile, scooted forward on the sofa, and then took your hands in his. “Believe me when I say this: You are so amazing. And not even a douchebag like Bucky could deny it. Yes, he has had his fair share of women in the past, and he can be the most stubborn dickhead in all of New York City, but he’s not stupid. He knows something valuable when he sees it. And you, love, have given him the most precious thing he’s ever had.”
You held eye contact for a short moment, letting your friend’s words sink in and warm you from the inside until the butterflies in your stomach began to tingle. As much as you wanted to refuse, you had shown him love and acceptance every step of the way. And Bucky? Bucky had tried so hard to impress you. He had done so many things just for you, to spend time with you.
You just wrote it off as a means to get you to sleep with him. But at this point, that argument was farfetched. Because throughout the time you spent together, his presence was pleasant, casual, and... wanted. 
“So what do I do now?” You said with determination, making a smile spark on both Sam’s and Matt’s faces.
❁ ❁ ❁
“So, Barnes is unusually grumpy tonight.” Bucky heard Tony say when he came back from the bathroom, jamming his glas on the table to announce he was listening. “Did you get cockblocked or what?”
“Shut it, Stark, or I’ll personally demonstrate your very own cockblock.” Bucky pressed through his teeth. 
“Damn, Buck. What the hell could possibly throw you off this much?” Tony signaled for two more drinks to the bar as Bucky took a seat again. 
Sam looked at him with a raised brow - the fucker knew what was going on. But Bucky refused to get dragged into talking about his feelings. 
“I thought it was going good?” Steve chimed in, a question in his features. Steve, you punk. Shut up!
Bucky knew he was referring to the bouquets of flowers that subtly decorated the office now. First his own desk, then the kitchen. And when Nat had grown suspicious, he proceeded to place them on her desk to have her stop asking questions. 
It wasn’t his doing - not this time. You had just given him a bouquet of the flowers you couldn’t sell anymore every time you met. And Bucky couldn’t bring himself to throw them out. They also reminded him of you and were a nice little distraction from work. ...Not that it mattered anymore.
“Going good? What is going on? What are you talking about, Rogers?”
“Bucky met a- ouch goddamnit!” A kick was heard from beneath the table. And when Steve’s eyes snapped over to Sam, the man just tipped his head with a warning stare. “What the hell, man?”
“Okay, that’s it. I feel like you guys don’t tell me anything. I need details. Now.”
“No.”
Bucky didn’t need Tony to know. In fact, Bucky didn’t need anyone to know he had trouble talking to a woman. He, of all people, who never had any difficulties getting even the married ones - yeah he wasn’t too proud of that... But Tony would just make everything worse. And with his patience hanging by a thread right about now, he was not willing to play with fire. 
“Buck, we- they’re your friends. They deserve to know, especially if things are as serious as you told me.” Bucky just stared at Steve in silence, his gaze trained on the crystal class in front of him with the amber liquid untouched. Steve always had a need to calm the storm. And maybe, Bucky would let him do it this time. 
Truthfully, Bucky couldn’t imagine a life without you anymore. His friends would sooner or later hear about you - if he had not fucked it up entirely. So, it was better to rip the band-aid off now than peel it back painfully slow in the future. 
He crossed his arms and exchanged a brief glance with the blonde, and Steve understood that he was allowed to proceed. 
“Bucky met someone. He’s organizing the charity gala this year and she’s the florist doing the flower arrangements.” He had never noticed it before, but ever since Bambi had entered Steve’s life, his best friend’s fable for romance became more and more apparent to Bucky. 
“She’s also helped him find a cause to donate to. She’s been taking him to the Shelter she has worked at for years,” Sam chimed in and Bucky didn’t even question where he got his information from anymore. Steve and he had always been close, and though Bucky didn’t believe Steve would tell Sam his most private conversations, Sam always had a way of finding out. 
“Event planning? Florist? Who are you and what have you done to Bucky?” Tony looked seriously stunned, But Bucky didn’t expect anything less than incomprehension. He had always been the only one in the group Tony could relate to and talk to when it came to women and lifestyles. Now, that very thing was slipping away. 
Bucky just shrugged, uncertain how to answer. It was true: He had changed quite a bit ever since meeting you. But they weren't bad changes. He actually liked them. 
Steve cleared his throat. “I thought things were going great, just the other day he talked about asking her out. And there were all these flowers in the office, I just assumed...”
“Yeah well, they weren’t.” Bucky interrupted as he felt the frustration creep back up. There were so many new feelings mixing within him that he didn’t know what to do with them. 
“Well it’s good to have you back, I guess. Can’t imagine how that would’ve turned out.” Tony’s hand landed on Bucky’s shoulder, who immediately brushed it off. 
“What do you mean ‘turned out’?”
His head swayed from left to right and his hands turned outward. “Well, we all agree it would have never worked out right? You’re not the one for relationships and she was clearly using you for that charity money.”
What the actual fuck?
“You don’t know her. So don’t you dare assume anything about her.” Bucky sprung up, his hands hitting the table with a thump. “Dove has the kindest, most beautiful soul on this earth.” He wouldn’t let Tony, of all people, insult you. Not you. Not his dove. And, yes, maybe it also hurt a little that his friend did not believe Bucky could change for something truly important. And maybe it scratched his ego that this might have been the reason for your rejection the other day. But all of that seemed unimportant now. 
“Look at you growing all protective.”
“Tony.” Steve’s condescending tone rumbled over the booth. 
A look at Tony and Bucky wanted to smack the smirk off his face. Another look at Sam, whose eyes had grown soft with empathy. And one last look at Steve, who’d only wanted him to be as happy as him. Damn it. 
“You wouldn’t fucking know what I’m talking about, Stark.”
And then he stormed out of the Ironbar and into the night, head fuming, heart racing, and only one thing on his mind. 
❁ ❁ ❁
You were pretty sure Bucky would have kicked your door down had you not opened it the second time he wrapped his fist against it. Now he was standing in front of you, cheeks reddened from the cool night air, chest rising with deep breaths, but still devilishly handsome. 
“Hey, Bucky!” You smiled until you noticed the irritated look in his eyes. “What are you doing here?”
He seemingly ignored you, stepping into your home and then turning once you closed the door. “Do you think I can change?”
“What?”
“Do you believe I could change? That I could become the person you would date?” His eyes were pleasing, his head cocked to the side - fidgedy.
“Is... is this about the other day?”
Bucky looked nervous, vulnerable even. “Just answer my question, please.”
“I believe everyone has the ability to change. But I also know not everyone wants to.” You looked at your hands, suddenly feeling a bit awkward.
“Then why... why do you think I haven’t. Through all the times we’ve gone to the shelter, through all the conversations. I’ve never had that with someone before... what I have with you.”
There it was. You knew you had to talk to him about it sooner or later. Sam and Matt had suggested as much. You just didn't know it would be this soon.
“Bucky, I just don’t want to end up as one of the women passing you on the street, throwing side eyes at the newest one you’re having on your arm.” Yeah... that encounter had been a rather awkard one. Not to mention how nervous you were that night, hopig Bucky had only played it cool in order to protect you.
“See, but that wouldn’t happen to you, dove. It wouldn’t. Because I realized that you are the reason that makes me want to change.” Bucky's gaze softened as he spoke, his tone gentle yet resolute he stepped closer. “I'm not perfect, but I promise you this: I'll always try my best for you. So, yeah, maybe it's a long shot, but I think I could be good for you. And if you'd give me the chance, I'd love to show you.” He took your hands in his, then closed his eyes and came even closer. “I know I'd treat you right.”
Throughout his confession, your gaze never faltered from his face. You could feel the desperate honesty in his tone, in the way his hands lightly trembled. He was scared, and he lay that emotion in your hands - for you to do whatever you needed with it. 
Your voice was shaky when you answered, a light hue of shame fogging the question on the tip of your tongue. “But how do I know...?” That this is not what you’re telling every woman in this godforsaken city? 
But Bucky understood. Because apparently that pull you'd had toward him had been there for a reason. “Because the things you make me feel scare me.” His face was mere inches from yours now, you could see every speck of color in his irises. “They scare me because I’ve never felt them before. Every time I’m not with you, I think of you. In every situation I am in alone, I imagine how much more exciting it would be with you in it. I’m going crazy. I’m lost without you, dove.”
A single tear ran down your face at his confession. This moment felt so raw, his words so sincere. But most importantly, it made your heart pound with excitement. 
“Will you be mine?” His forehead leaned against yours, his hands moving up your arms and to your neck. “Please say yes,” he whispered and his breath tickled your nose. 
He just felt so right. Bucky felt right in your home, in your arms, in your life. “Yes.” You finally answered and as soon as the syllable left your mouth, his lips came crashing onto yours. 
Within seconds, Bucky had you pressed against the door. His hands held your face lovingly, his hands warm and big on your skin. The kiss was deep and so unbelievably pure, it punched the breath from your lunges the second your lips connected. And suddenly you knew that Bucky’s words held far less emptiness than you had feared. Nobody could kiss like this and not be sincere. At least you hoped it to be true because once you’d gotten a taste, you knew you would never want to try anything else. You could get drunk off him. Forever.
Your hands wandered beneath Bucky’s coat, settling in the warmth of his back beneath the thick wool and feeling the muscles ripple when he pulled you even closer. 
You sighed into him because the moment felt so right, so perfect, so tailored to the two of you and Bucky brushed his tongue over your bottom lip. The tingle from the gesture traveled down your spine. Before you could hold yourself back, you let his touch swallow you whole. 
❁ ❁ ❁
Bucky moaned, a feeling so warm and enjoyable taking over his body with every breath you stole from him. He had wanted for this to happen for weeks. And the real thing did not disappoint. 
Your hands roamed his back until they hooked onto his shoulders and began shrugging off his coat. He tried hard to keep your lips on his during the action, not wanting to miss a single moment without them anymore. You were here, you were his, and it was perfect. 
“Bucky,” you whimpered when his thigh made its way between your legs. A move so instinctually feeling for him. But all the other women he’d been with before only seemed like practice now. Preparation to be the best lover you’ve ever had and ever will have. Because you were the real thing, the grand prize, the best person to ever happen to him. 
You ground down on his legs in rhythmic motions, Bucky could feel the heat seeping through his expensive dress pants and it made him feel even hotter. He pushed his leg higher, reveling in the sounds that came from your lips and the very knowledge he was the one providing this pleasure. There was nothing more exhilarating. 
But still, it wasn’t enough. “There are too many layers of clothes between us, dove,” his wet breath brushed against your cheek as he pulled his thigh back for you to take off your jeans. 
“You’re so right.” You grinned and then pulled them down in one swift motion only to reveal a pink pear of panties underneath. 
In an instant, his body was pressed to yours again, his lips attaching to yours like magnets - he couldn’t get enough of the taste of you. But instead of placing his leg right back to get you that delicious friction, his hand began traveling down your front until it disappeared in your underwear. 
If you were any other woman, Bucky would’ve gone down on you. He would have dropped to his knees and eaten you out because he knew it was the fastest way he’d make you come. And he took pride in the fact that the women he was with always had at least one orgasm more than him. But he didn’t do so with you. 
Why?
Because Bucky Barnes got high off of your lips, and he couldn’t possibly imagine not seeing your face, feeling your mouth shape in a silent scream when he would make you come for the first time. 
So his hand had to do for now. His fingers slipped past the thin pink cotton and over your mound to gather your slickness. He gasped when he reached your heated core. “You’re so wet for me, love. So ready.” He pecked the corner of your lips. “So perfect.”
“Yes!” You whined and pressed your pussy into his touch. Bucky immediately started to trace circles on your clit. He took his time to find the motions with which your breath staggered, or your fists clenched in his shirt. With every whimper, every stroke of his hand, he felt his dick strain his pants a little more - the aching exciting him for when he could finally sink into you. 
“Shit, don’t stop. I’m so close.”
“I don’t plan on ever stopping.” He growled into your mouth, his hand movements becoming more frantic, the wet noises filling your apartment. Frankly, Bucky didn’t believe he could ever stop giving you pleasure and having you writhe in his arms with deep sighs. Not until he knew how you sounded cumming on his hand, on his face, on his dick, on the sofa, on the bed, and every other surface he could possibly imagine. Your body was like ecstasy.
Your walls began to clench around his fingers, every drag becoming harder as he imagined his cock being squeezed by you instead. “There you go, Baby. That’s it.”
“OH MY GOD!” You screamed as your hand pulled on his hair, your body growing rigid with pleasure and Bucky kissed every curse word from your lips. 
After a minute, he slowly pulled his hand back, the other caressing the skin on your cheek. “Are you okay?” He whispered, his eyes boring into yours in genuine concern. 
“Are you kidding? I’m more than okay. That was incredible.” Bucky couldn’t help the small chuckle from leaving his lips at your praise. 
“You look really fucking pretty when you come.”
“I’m glad. Because I want you to make me do it again.” You kissed his cheek. “And again.” And then you gently stroked his cock through his pants. “And again.”
And the second you said that Bucky pulled you onto the floor with him. He took his time removing your clothes, kissed the trial of your bra strap all the way down your shoulder, licked and bit at your hips all the way down to your ankles where he finally pulled off your underwear and pressed his lips to the soft skin of your leg. And when you were fully naked, he paused. Bucky’s eyes roamed your body, taking in every divot, every mark and curve of yours.
He sat back on his haunches, his head getting dizzy when the butterflies took over. “God, you’re so beautiful,” Bucky softly wheezed, his hand slowly stroking your leg as you lay spread out in front of him. 
“Come here.” You gestured with your arms open, welcoming him in your embrace with a wide smile. Bucky supported his weight with his arms on either side of your head and let your hands bury in his hair. He closed his eyes letting the warmth of your touch overtake him. Your thumbs stroked over his brows before you whispered: “Look at me.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry I doubted you. I feel the appreciation in the way you talk to me and touch me. It was unfair of me to assume you are your reputation.”
“No, it’s okay. It’s not like I made it easy for you to believe me.”
You chuckled and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Well, I do now.” Your eyes locked with his and a new fire lit within them. 
“Good.” He smirked and then rolled you over so that you were straddling his waist. The cool wooden floor hit his bare back as you had bunched his shirt up on the way, now pulling it over his head and revealing your satisfied stare when your hands traced over his abs.
You shook your head and released a breath. “Shame on me for refusing this for so long.” Your fingers passed his happy trail and began working on his belt. Bucky’s thumbs stroked your thighs as he watched you undress him, the tent in his pants ever so present and growing with every brush of your fingers. 
“Don’t worry, dove. We have all the time in the world to make up for it.” When his pants were off he pulled you forward again, kissing you ferociously. “‘Cause I’m not planning on leaving.”
You smirked and ground down on his cock, interrupting his speech and ripping a guttural sound from his chest. 
He had been holding back. Ever since you'd dragged him into that shelter, he had not touched a woman, because you had him hooked the second you had taken his hand on the way. And now he had to bite his tongue to keep himself from coming in his boxers like a school boy. 
“Are you getting nervous, Bucky?” You grinned and moved again to tease him a little more.
“Can you blame me?” He clenched his jaw when you rocked forward again, his hand stilling your hips with a near-bruising grip. “I’ve wanted you ever since I stepped foot in your shop.”
“You did?” Your head cocked to the side, surprise washing over your face and his dick twitched making Bucky’s cheeks heat up. 
“Yes...” He confessed only to be attacked with your kisses again. He groaned and bucked his hips up until you were a moaning mess on top of him. His hands reached around you, settling on your ass and giving it a small clap. 
“Hand me my walled, baby. It’s in my pants.”
“Why?”
“We need a condom if you don’t want to keep dry-humping me.” He smirked, knowing, feeling there was nothing dry about this anymore. Your arousal was already drenching his boxers. The slick pushing him close to losing it. 
“It’s okay. We don’t have to, I have an IUD.” 
“As much as I want to, we should be safe...” Bucky swallowed and averted his eyes in regret. “Have to get tested again.”
“Oh, ok.” You were disappointed, he could tell. And Bucky was too. It was the first time he ever regretted all his one-night stands because he would kill to fuck you raw and feel all of you. And as hazy as your body made him, he could not ignore the fact that he did have several different sex partners before. It would have to wait a few weeks. And when he would come back clean, he would keep you in the bedroom for a week straight.
You must have noticed his misery because you leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Then you scooched back and retrieved the condom from his wallet. Bucky held his breath when your fingers hooked into his waistband. And when you pulled them down, his cock stood proud and thick with precum already pearling from his tip. 
He reached for the shiny packet in your hand but you pulled your arm up, your eyes stuck on his cock. “Let me.”
“Okay,” he breathed out as he watched you rip the packet. His shaft twitched when your careful hands rolled the condom over him, another bead of precum dripping into the condom and before he could collect himself, you rubbed your pussy all over him, coating him in your arousal. 
Bucky’s hands turned into fists at your sides as he watched you finally sink down on him - inch by inch, your heat welcomed him, his body sparking with pleasure all over. You moaned in unison when he was fully seated inside you, his cock being hugged tightly in your warmth - he’d barely held it together then. 
You planted your hands on his abdomen and rocked forward, sending the both of you reeling. It took a second for Bucky to collect himself. His eyes closed and his nose huffing, he reminded himself of what he had promised you and what he wanted his first time with you to be. When he opened his eyes again, his hands moved over your body with determination. One setting over your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers, the other began tracing tight circles on your clit. 
Your head fell back, a vision of ecstasy and pleasure unfolding before him when he sent you over the edge a second time. He slowed your hips on his and rubbed your pussy with his thumb. He needed you to come again. And then again, and he had to hold out for that long. But the way your chest heaved, the light sheen of sweat forming on your skin, made his plan more than difficult. 
It took all of Bucky’s willpower to pull you off his cock and push you to his legs. He sat up and kissed up your neck until he reached your lips. “What are you doing?”
“Giving you what you asked for.” He mumbled against your skin and then licked over your nipple, the other being caressed by his fingers. His free hand found its place right between your legs again and when you moaned lowly, he slipped two fingers inside you. 
Your pussy was squelching, the lewd sound traveling across the living room as Bucky worked you towards another release. You were already squirming in his hands again. Your fists pulled at his roots, sending a shiver straight to his cock when you leaned his head back. “You’re amazing.” Your breath was hot, fanning over his lips only to be replaced by them again. His tongue slipped inside and mimicking the movement of his fingers in your pussy. 
“Right back at ya, dove. I can't wait to be inside you again.”
“Then what are you waiting for?”
“For you to come again.” He bit your lip and sped up his fingers already feeling you squeeze him tightly. “So you’re satiated when I come deep inside you, feeling you squeeze me with that perfect pussy of yours until you see stars.”
“Shitshitshit. I’m coming!” A series of curses flew past him when you pulsed around his fingers, gushing all over his hand and lap until he finished rocking you through your third orgasm. 
“Fuck,” Bucky licked your juices off his fingers and his eyes rolled back into his head. 
“I don’t think I have another in me, Bucky.”
“Don’t worry, love. I got you.” And with that he hooked your legs around his waist, falling forward until you were with your back to the floor, Bucky hovering over you and aligning his length with your entrance. 
He couldn’t wait anymore, in one swift motion, Bucky fully bottomed out until his balls hit your ass. And when he was confident you were comfortable, he set a relentless pace. He had been on the edge this entire time. You had almost made him come just having him watch you let go. But there was nothing like the feeling of your pussy hugging him tightly, your body writhing beneath his, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure and nails raking down his back. 
“You feel so good,” he grunted and you just moaned in response.
“Look at me, please.” His hand turned your face. “I need to see you.” 
Bucky snapped his hips into yours even faster, your walls already clenching tightly around him and he threatened to burst. Your eyes opened and fell to his and Bucky couldn’t stop his orgasm from ripping through him anymore. His strokes stuttered, his balls tightened, but he held eye contact with you, searching your hand behind his back to lock your fingers with his. 
The white pleasure exploded within him, elevated by your own peak hitting with full force. He kissed you then, feeling like he was somewhere between heaven and your living room floor. His mind was consumed by you, his body tingling in aftershocks as he rocked you through your highs. 
His damp chest fell into yours when you came down. He rolled on his back, taking you with him, pressed deeply into his body, his cock still buried inside you. Bucky’s chest was heaving, the last remnants of pleasure sparkling in his nerves. He kissed your hand and cuddled you closer. 
This was what he was made for. To be with you, to be consumed by your affection and warmth. 
He smoothed over your head and felt your lashes flutter on his skin. His heart was blooming with contentment - all the fear he’d felt to commit was miles away, lost somewhere between the Ironbar and your doorstep. There was nothing he was more sure of. 
“Let me do this right. Let me take you out.” He whispered into your hair with a smile, trying to remember a time he’d ever been this happy. 
You snorted as your hand gently stroked over his chest. “Bucky, you’re literally ballsdeep inside of me right now.”
Bucky chuckled as well, his hand rubbed down your bare back in a soothing motion when he kissed your head. “Nothing like a convincing argument, huh.”
You already know your girl couldn't decide which GIF to use. So here are the extra ones:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Woooow, you've made it this far! Thank you so much 💕 If you have some time to spare, I would reaaaally appreciate some feedback from you. A comment or a reblog can help so much to reach more people and improve writing. Talk to you soon ~Meg 💞
Wanna be added to the taglist?
@circe143 @valkyrie418 @mirikusashes @noideawhyimdoingthislol @nikkitc0703 @lethallyprotected @erynnnn @misshale21 @wattpaduser200 @buckyseddie @adoreyouusugar @km-ffluv @mcu21lover19 @almosttoopizza @royalwritersoftheuniverses @i-l-y-3000 @mrsgweasley @prettylittlepluviophile @dinwifey @stuckysgirl27 @wintermischief @broadwaybabe18 @fridayiaminlove @buckybarnessimpp @goodkittyspost @justafangir1 @simpxinnie @blackhawkfanatic @augustbucky @kandis-mom @harleycao @ashhsage @hhiggs @scott-loki-barnes @gabshouse @barnes1031 @am-3-thyst @awkotaco24 @fangirl-swagg @she-wolf09231982
also tagging my steve tags (for everyone who wanted an update on Bambi) 🤗 :
3K notes · View notes
koostattoos · 5 months
Text
Endless Summer || j.jk
Tumblr media
~ Pairing: jock!Jungkook x nerd!reader
~ Genre: academic rivals to lovers , fluff, angst, smut, college au, slowburn
~ Summary: Summer vacation was right around the corner. Being in a program that required you at the beach every day was a big pro. After seeing Jeon Jungkook at the same beach as you everything was ruined. Jungkook was the school’s heartthrob. Girls throwing themselves at him left and right, going to parties every other day, and coming in and out of those parties with different girls. Not to mention he’s the biggest dick you’ve ever met. Avoiding him was in your best interest. His being there threw avoiding him out the window. Summer can’t be that bad. Right?
~ word count: 13.4k
~ Warnings: golden era!jk (yes this is a warning) oral (m & f receiving), doggy, dom!jk, sub!reader, dirty talk, unprotected sex (be smart), aftercare, so much fluff!
~ A/n: God, this is my first time writing ever!! I really hope this finds the right audience and readers please enjoy. i pray this doesn’t come off as a boring story pls pls show some support, it’d be soooo appreciated 🫶🏼🫶🏼! Happy reading!
~
For the past thirty minutes you sat staring at your suitcase still trying to figure out what the hell to pack for the next months. The program that you joined had asked everyone if they wanted to go on a trip for extra credit to work for the beach down by Busan for junior year. Not that you needed it, you had zero plans made for this summer.
Niki’s out of town visiting her family for the summer and Sohee’s out doing what Sohee does, probably out exploring abandoned places or getting high somewhere. Who knows? You decided to get up and start packing. You walked over to your closet to skim over your outfits and carefully picked out a few outfits for the next few months. After two hours of packing, your phone dings with a notification from Niki
Niki: omg can’t believe it’s summer already! have fun on your little trip down to Busan. If anything happens call or text me right away! Luv ya!
You smile down at your phone. You and Niki have been friends for years, you first met in your freshman year of high school. She taught you everything, from how to do your make-up and style your clothes and all that fun stuff. Funny how you both got into the same college and ended up sharing the same dorm. She’s gone around the campus having different guys in and out. You would say you guys are complete opposites. You would rather stay in and watch a movie or something instead of going out and partying with drunk college students and grinding my body against sweaty skin.
After finishing up the last of your packing you respond.
Me: heyyy, omg I know! The school year went by so fast, say hi to your mom n dad for me and give Nani kisses for me! And of course, you’ll always be the first to know everything! Luv u too! Enjoy your summer ♡
Putting your phone down, you check when you are supposed to leave and meet everyone at the train station. The ticket said 8:00 am. You set your alarm for tomorrow and get ready for bed. Checking your phone for the last time you turn the lights off and drift off to dreamland.
~
Waking up to your alarm clock blaring in your ear. It’s near 6:00 am, you get up and start getting ready. Walking into the bathroom you bring out your skin care routine. After finishing up and brushing your teeth, you go back to where your vanity is and start with your makeup.
Choosing what to wear was easy, you chose a simple outfit. An oversized black hoodie, black parachute cargos, and white gamma forces. You come out of your room to the living room and take your bag off the counter and get the rest of the bags for the trip. The drive to the train station took longer than expected. Traffic was horrible. The ride was said to be only about 30 minutes, you ended up getting there about an hour later.
After blasting music on the way there you had finally arrived, you see a few of your classmates from previous classes and walk up to say hi. “Yunjin!” You shouted her name, catching her attention.
She waves at you and starts making her way over. “Oh my god hey girl!” She goes in for a hug and starts talking about the next two months. “This is so exciting! I’ve been waiting for this trip for so long, I hope we get free time because I’m too exhausted from all those tests.” She says with low shoulders. Out of nowhere she gasps and turns to you “You’ll never fucking guess who I just saw” You look at her with a curious face “Who?” she leans in closer “Jeon Jungkook”. Your face had gone red. Hearing Jungkook’s name coming out of her mouth left you shocked. Not forgetting the history, you and the boy had.
It all started in junior high in the 7th grade. You had finished your final tests of the year, and the scores were finally out for everyone to see. As you walked up to the board, expecting to read your name first as it always is on top of the board. Standing behind a tall boy with dark raven hair you moved to the side to peek at the score you had got.
Before you could even take a glance at the highest score the boy yells close to your ear. He jumps in the air and says “LETS FUCKING GO” he turns around and notices you, he looks you in the eye before walking away. You go up to the board and look for your name. Right above your name is Jeon Jungkook.
You couldn’t believe your eyes that he out of all people managed to score above you. You glare at him and say “Hey! Did you cheat?! There’s no way you have the highest score after me when you couldn’t even place last year!” He scoffs at you and looks at you with narrowed eyes “I’ve earned that spot being last doesn’t feel good right? Stop being such a conceited bitch and learn how to share the board. Accept you're not the smartest in the school” he snares and walks away. You had felt a surge of anger towards that day and couldn’t stand to be around him for the rest of your life. You promised yourself to avoid any contact with Jeon Jungkook and to make sure he never topped you again.
After staring at him for atleast five minutes you snap out of your thoughts. Looking over at Yunjin you say “What is he doing here? I’ve never seen him attend any of the meetings or give any interest in the program” she looks back at you after looking at him “Yeah, he and Yuno are close friends. I guess he brought it up to him and took it upon himself to ask Jungkook to the trip” she shrugs. You glance over at him again and see him talking to Yuno. You never noticed his pretty features. You hadn't seen him since you bumped into him at the café all those months ago. His hair got longer, he has more piercings, and a lot more tattoos on his right arm. Has he always looked this good?
No, thinking like this is wrong. You needed to remember all the cruel names he called you. You decided to look away after hearing the announcements on the speaker. “Train number 7 now boarding.” is heard. Going to grab your things a hand is placed on top of one of yours. You look up and you're met with those same eyes that looked at you with hate.
“You need help with that?” he smiles at you “No thanks I got it”. You quickly take the bag from his hand and board the train. Luckily, you had moved quickly enough so you could get a shared booth with Yunjin. You place your bags in the overhead compartment and get settled. It would take you about 3 hours to get there. Now settled in your seat you lay back with your head resting on the head rest and blast your music. Just as you became relaxed you felt your hoodie become wet with liquid.
“Oh shit, my bad” he says
You look up at the voice. Of course, it’s him. Jungkook looks up at you and rolls his eyes.
“Nice going dumbass” you say under your breath.
Yunjin grabs tissue from her purse to help and says “God, what the hell is his problem? He really had the audacity to walk away and not even apologies.” she said.
After heading to the washroom and putting on an extra T-shirt you had in your bag you walk back to your seat but not before you look up to see Jungkook, watching as you walk past him, you turn your head forward and sit back into your seat. This is going to be a long ride.
~
Arriving at the dorms was a hassle. Taking everyone's stuff off the train was a breeze but sorting everybody into two buses was more difficult than it should have been. Surprisingly enough you and Yunjin ended up sharing a bigger dorm with two other girls, Irene and Jini. You and Irene shared the same economics class and Jini had recently signed up for this program.
You walked around the building and noticed a pool and a hot tub placed in the back. The kitchen area was big enough for atleast fifteen people. Walking back to the common area, everyone went their own ways into their rooms and decided to meet up around one for lunch. After opening the door to your home for the next two months, you were met with the most beautiful window view. Looking out to the beach you could see the waves crashing against the shore and people enjoying their time with their families and loved ones.
After taking in the view, you walked over to your bag to pick an outfit out for lunch. You lift up one of the outfits you had picked out while packing. Touching up your makeup and getting your shoes on, you all leave to head down to meet everyone in the common area. As you walked out of your dorm, you were (yet again) met with the sight of Jungkook as you looked at each other. His dorm is right across from yours. Great! You had thought, this summer couldn’t get any worse. He looks at you up and down, smirks and walks away.
~
You walk down the stairs to see a few people waiting. As you were waiting, you met up with Irene and Jini, Yunjin was still getting ready as were a few other people. Looking around the room you catch Jungkook taking a glimpse of you with his hands in his pockets. He wore a fitted T-shirt with his arm full of tattoos on display along with cargo pants. You make eye contact with him for several seconds before looking away to find Yunjin.
Finally, everyone in count went into separate cars and explored what the city had in store for them. Busan was a big city; there was so much to do. An option you had was to look around for places you could eat at while you spent your time there. You decided to walk around and look at the stores. A small old lady had her hand out waving you over to her stand. “I have a beautiful bracelet that has your name written all over it,” she said.
“It’s really pretty but I'm not looking to buy anything right now” you kindly declined her offer
“Please have it for free, it compliments you so well” she raises her hand with the bracelet
It was decorated in white shells and blue starfish charms. You took the bracelet from her hand, and you thanked her. Finished figuring out where to settle you chose a restaurant that wasn’t far from where the car was parked.
Finding a table wasn’t difficult. The place wasn’t packed besides a few of the other students that chose the same spot were empty. The empty space was filled with the noise of the bell at the top of the door, you look up to see where the noise had come from and that’s when you see Jungkook. He stood there with Yuno and the rest of his other friends. He goes to sit at a table near yours.
You made eye contact, and he scoffed. You roll your eyes at him, and he speaks up
“Are you following me or something? You seem to be everywhere I am.”
You glare at him “Are you sure it's not the opposite? Every time I look up you happen to be where I am every single time”
He looks at you like you're mental “I think someone’s a little stalker we chose this place before you guys walked in” he sneered at you.
You look up to him and cross your arms, “I think the one obsessed is you, every damn time I look up there you are literally staring into my soul, what the fuck is your problem.”
“No problem here like you said I just happen to be here when you are” he shrugs
“Asshole” you mumble
Walking back to your table you feel his stare burning into the back of your head.
When you excuse yourself to the bathroom you couldn’t help but look up at Jungkook. He was laughing with his friends with his hands on his lap; manspreading. “God, damn it does he have to be so fine” You mumble under your breath
After freshening up you walk back to the table, and you see a girl next to him. She’s touching on his tattooed arm and giggling at what he said. You felt this weird sensation in your stomach. Was it jealousy? No way, but he can’t possibly be that funny she’s holding her stomach.
Walking back to the girls and sitting back down. Irene notices something off about your mood.
“Hey, are you okay?” Irene placed a hand on your back.
“You look a little red” You take your phone out to check your face. You needed to calm down.
“Oh, it’s just getting a little hot in here is all.” She gives you a soft smile and nods her head
After lunch was over, you decided to take a walk around the city to look around and find something to do to pass the time. Jini had found a photo booth near one of the stands selling handmade pictures “Guys!” she exclaimed “Let’s take some pictures!” Ten poses later, Yunjin found a bakery and got something to snack on while you looked around. After waiting for Yunjin and Jini you all decided to hang out and look at the scenery.
~
Walking back to the dorms it was sunset hour. The walk back to the dorms was breathtaking. The sun was setting low over the horizon, and the sounds of the waves crashing were soothing. When you got back to the dorms everyone filed to their rooms to relax and figure out the plan for what to do for dinner. You ended up texting Niki and telling her about today.
Me: Omg Niki, today was our first day of the beach program. We went out and explored Busan. It’s so beautiful over here I wish you could see for yourself.
Me: But you’ll never guess who I’m spending the next two months with
I wait for her to respond. It only takes a couple seconds until I see the three grey dots pop up on my screen.
Niki: Aww I miss you so much we should take a girl's trip soon! But pleaseeee tell me it’s not who I think it is
Me: Jeon Jungkook
Niki: NO YOURE LYING
You chuckle at her response
Me: I’m being serious
Niki: I thought he was stupid and didn’t show up to the meetings how did he know about this trip?
Me: Supposedly he’s friends with Yuno’s group and Yuno told him about the trip.
Waiting another few seconds until the three dots appear again.
Niki: Of course, he’s friends with them they all fuck around especially Jungkook
Me: You’re right, I should’ve known they were friends. Anyways I gotta get ready for dinner soon, I’ll update you if anything else happens.
This time she takes a few minutes
Niki: Alrighty! Enjoy your dinner and you BETTER tell me everything! I love you and stay safe!
You smile at her last text. Putting your phone down you start to get ready for tonight. The mentor wanted everyone to have dinner together so they could discuss the plans for tomorrow. Deciding to take a shower to wash off the sweat from today’s adventures and redo your makeup in a different style. You curled your hair and chose different shoes, deciding to go with low pumps to make walking around easier. The dress you had picked out was a simple little summer dress with small flowers decorated all over.
~
Walking downstairs you see Jungkook with Eunwoo talking. He’s cladded with a black blazer with a white shirt underneath paired with black dress pants and white shoes. In all honesty he looked handsome tonight. His hair is slicked back and he's wearing a chain around his neck with rings on his fingers.
As you make your way down the stairs, he looks up from Eunwoo to you. He looks back down and finishes his conversation with a smile.
“He looks like he’s about to eat you alive. I don’t blame him; you look so good” Yunjin says
You smile at her and compliment her back “Oh my God, are you kidding? You took my breath away the second you walked out of the room; I love your makeup” you say giggling. The mentor comes up and introduces himself when everyone seems to be present.
“Hello everyone, my name is Mr. Kwan I will be in charge of everything that goes on around here and I will be announcing our activities for the next month or so.”
You look around and your eyes land on Jungkook. He’s standing next to Yuno now with his arms crossed. He must have felt your stare because he turned his head towards you and then to the floor. You can make out a faint smirk on his lip. You look away with a confused expression and take your phone out to check if you have something on your face. Not seeing anything you shake it off and turn your attention to Mr. Kwan
“Tomorrow is when we start your tasks. I will assign each of you to a job and that’s the task you must do for that week, every other week each group will switch tasks. You will get to have a day off as a break. Do I make myself clear?” Mr. Kwan says.
There's a mix of yeses and head shakes. He takes out a clip board and tells us what to do next. “Okay, I have two boards with the list of names, please take turns finding your name on either one of these” He places them down on a table and asks, “Any questions?” One of the many students, Vernon, raised his hand and asked, “Can we go out after hours?”
“No, everyone should be in their rooms with lights off, no sneaking out or bringing outside guest” As you walk over to the beach cleanup board and find your name nowhere to be seen. Finally walking to lifeguard duty, there your name was. But right under it say. Jeon Jungkook.
This means you’d have to spend the next two months in the presence of Jungkook. Shaking your head, you turn around back to Yunjin to figure out what she had gotten. But instead, you're met with a firm chest. Looking up to meet the face of the person you see him; he has his hands on your elbows to stabilize me.
“Watch where you’re going.” he says with furrowed brows.
He lets go of you and walks over to the clip boards. You hear him chuckle.
“What’s so funny?” You asked him.
He turns around to face me and says, “I have to spend my days at the beach with you? For two months? I’m going to die if I even spend another minute with you.” he shakes his head pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Yeah, well I’m not so fond of you either Jeon. So, stop bitching about it, I’m not excited about it either” with that I roll my eyes and walk away.
~
At the restaurant everyone picked their own tables. You see Jungkook a few more tables down from where you’re sat, thank God. You took your seat next to Yunjin and talked about the events for the upcoming week.
“What did you get for this week?” I asked her.
“I have clean up duty. I heard the weather’s supposed to be nice so I’m not too worried” You clear your throat and sit up in your seat. “I have lifeguard duty and guess who I’m with.” You look over to Jungkook and he has a grin on his face with his arms crossed and his head tilted down.
“Oh no.” she says placing a hand on your arm
“I have to spend the next two months with him every single day. I don’t know how I’ll survive” you say rubbing your head.
~
Nearing the end of the dinner everyone gets up to leave and go back to the dorms. The restaurant was only a few minutes away, so some decided to walk. Those ‘some’ being you and your group, Jungkook and his, and a couple of other students. As you’re walking, you see Jungkook walking aside Yuno.
He has his hands in his pocket and he’s looking out at the beach. It looked beautiful tonight, the moon lit up the sand and the stars were beaming. Not looking at where you were stepping, you had tripped over your feet and waited to hit the floor. But you never made contact.
Instead, you feel a strong set of arms around your waist, and when you open your eyes; you see Jungkook looking down at you. You stayed still for a few seconds before he lifted you back up. His hold tight around you tight
“Be careful, idiot” he said before letting go
I stared at him. You had question why he didn’t just stand there and let you fall. He turned around to catch up with his friends and continued to walk back to the dorms like nothing happened
~
Back at the dorms everyone goes to their respected rooms and gets ready for bed. As Irene went to turn off the light, she heard a knock on the door. You get up from the bed and check to see who it is. When you open the door and you’re met with Jungkook and Yuno. Yuno speaks up and says, “Were going out, if you wanna join us you can.” Irene and Jini walk up to me
“Who’s at the door” Irene and Yuno meet eyes. He smiles at her.
“Um, were just gonna go out and hang, I was just saying that guys can come and join us if you want.”
“Uh yeah sure” she says.
“Alright, cool meet you guys down there in a few” You go to look up at him, but Jungkook had already had his eyes on you looking you up and down smiling. That’s when you realized you’re in a Hello Kitty pajama set. Looking down you quickly push past Irene and Jini.
Yunjin was fast asleep already, quietly making your way to the bathroom to get the stuff you need and change out of your clothes. You end up wearing a plain gray T-shirt with black baggy sweats
Finally done putting makeup on, only putting on some light foundation and lip gloss, you put on some white sneakers and start to head out with the girls. Closing the door softly, you walk out and see Jungkook with his arms crossed and back against the wall next to his door. He looks up and says, “Where are your Hello Kitty pajamas?” he chuckles. you stopped to glare at him and walk away. Before you could reach the first step, you felt his grip on my arm.
“Aren’t you scared were gonna get caught little miss goody two shoes” he raised his eyebrows.
“Go away, I’m only going out because YOUR friend invited us, and all my other friends are going out with you guys. I don’t want to be stuck in the dorm not doing anything.”
“And don’t judge my Hello Kitty pj’s I saw the big ass plush sitting on your bed when I went to go downstairs earlier”
He stops for a minute as he watches you ascend down the stairs. Hearing his loud footsteps following close behind you. Reaching the bottom of the stairs you see your friends waiting for you.
“What took you so long?” Jini asked
“Ask him” you point at Jungkook
“So where are we going?” you asked
“There’s a bonfire my friend is hosting. There’s gonna be so much we can do, I can’t stay in that tiny ass dorm all day” Yuno exclaimed. As you’re walking to the beach you feel someone walking next to you. Jungkook looks straight ahead as you make your way down to the bonfire. His hair is still damp from the shower he took, he’s wearing a gray crewneck with black shorts. His hands in his pocket he speaks up “Why are you on this trip?”
“I could be asking you the same thing. I haven’t seen you at a single meeting yet now all of a sudden, you’re interested?”
“Oh? So you pay attention to me now?” he looks down smiling
“No, it’s just that you never cared or even bothered listening to what anyone said about this program so now do you feel the need to participate in it?”
He looks everywhere but you.
“I don’t know, I heard someone was going to be here and decided fuck it and signed up.” he shrugs with his hands behind his back. You look up at him with a curious look on your face. As you were about to speak up you hear Yuno’s voice
“Yo, JK we could use a little help over here”
Jungkook looks back at you and says “Gotta go, don’t go tripping when I’m not here to catch you” he winks at you
He runs down to help the guys and you’re left confused.
~
Everyone was surrounded by the fire, drinking, and having a good time. Jungkook is across from where you’re sitting and he’s laughing about something his friend said. He looks up and meets your eyes and you quickly turn your head to look away. From the corner of your eye, Jungkook stands up to walk to the cooler next to him. He picks up a cool beer and makes his way over to you. He hands you the beer and sits next to you.
“How do you like it so far?” he asked
“Why are you being nice to me? You acted like you hated me the whole day” your eyebrows furrowed
“What are you talking about?”
“You know what it’s getting late, and I don’t have time to deal with you right now”
He stands up as the same time as you and grabs your arm “Wait”, you stop and look at him
“At least let me walk you back to the dorms”
Hesitantly agreeing, he lets go of your arm and you both make your way back to the rooms.
~
It’s the first day of your tasks. Everybody separates into different cars. The beach you’re working at is only a 30-minute drive. All the seats are taken except for the one next to the person you prayed you wouldn’t have to see until you got to the beach. Jungkook looked at you and looked down on his lap. You finally went to sit down next to him. You put your earphones in and blast your music so you wouldn’t have to hear him talk.
You wake up with your head heavy against something. When you open your eyes and feel Jungkook’s head on top of yours and your cheek against his shoulder. Immediately you raise your head –waking him up in the process- and hop out of the car.
Taking in a deep breath you walk over to the ledge of the hill the cars parked at and look over the edge. You close your eyes for a moment to take in the salty air of the sea. The wind is blowing your hair out of your face. Little did you know Jungkook was staring at you; admiring the way you looked so relaxed. After a few more seconds you turn your head and walk over to the car to grab your stuff
You already had your swimsuit on under an oversized T-shirt and some shorts. It was an open back black one piece you had bought the day prior to coming on the trip. You carry your bag down the sand but feel it lift off your shoulder. You look up and see Jungkook carry it all the way down to your stations.
“Okay everyone, listen up” Mr. Kwan yelled
“I have assigned everyone a partner to work with for the next week, please come up to me and tell me your name”
As you walk up to Mr. Kim you tell him your name and he tells you who he paired you with. Surprise again you’re with Jungkook. He calls him over and tells him what he told you. Jungkook looks down at you and you look up at him. He smirks and walks back to where he set your things. Following behind him you unpack your things.
You grab your sunscreen, squeeze a dollop into your hand, and you rub it all over your body; starting on your front. Jungkook stands next to you as he takes his shirt off, showing off his body. You stare up at him and admire him for just a second. He looks down and catches your eyes
“Are you staring at me?” he chuckled
Looking away quickly you say “No, I wasn’t”
“Sure, whatever you say, you need help with that?” he says as he points to you struggling to get your back.
“Yes, please” going to hand him the bottle he squeezed some on to his hand and moves your hair to the side. He glides his hand across the span of your back. He starts at your shoulders and works his way down to the middle of your back. His hands moving slowly, getting closer to your lower back.
You clear your throat, and his hands are to himself now. You lay your hair in it’s original spot and you stand to look at the beach full of people. It was only 9:00 in the morning yet the beach was packed. Walking over to your stand you climb the steps and take a seat. Jungkook walks over next to the stand, and he has a floaty in his hand. A couple of minutes pass by in silence before he speaks up.
“When do you want to switch spots?”
“When we see someone drowning”
He sighs and sits down.
~
After nearly an hour later a group of girls walk up to him, and they giggle as loud as they can staring at him. He looks up at the noise and stares at them. “Excuse me?” one of the girls says “Yes?” she extends her arm out “Do you mind taking a picture of us?” Jungkook grabs her phone and angles it. “One, two, three” he takes the picture. The girl reaches for her phone and pauses to look at him.
“Hey, are you free tonight?” she asked him
Watching the interaction between the two you roll your eyes. What you don’t notice is that Jungkook looks up at you and back down to the girl
“Uhm, no actually, I do have plans for tonight sorry.” He rejects her offers and hands her phone back to her.
She has a disappointed look on her face and a sad smile plastered on her face. “It’s okay, I hope you have a good rest of your day”. With that she walks away.
Now at the end of the day and the sun getting lower, you and Jungkook switched spots through half of it. Taking turns every so often. He would try to make small talk, but you always managed to find a way around it. He looks up at you and calls your name
“You wanna jump into the water real quick” he says as he watches you make your down from the booth.
“No thanks, I wasn’t planning on getting wet unless I needed to.”
“Oh c’mon just real fast. The weather is nice around this time” he begged
“Jungkook I sai-”
Before you can finish your sentence, your body is being carried over his shoulders. You throw soft punches at his back and yell at him.
“Jungkook put me down! I’m not playing with you right now!” you screamed in his ear.
He ignores you and laughs loudly. His feet meet the water, once he's deep enough into the ocean he plunges you till you're soaked.
Emerging from the water you pull your hands back over your hair. Jungkook stops and stares at you. Admiring your beauty, when you catch him staring, he doesn’t look away this time. This time he stares into your eyes. It’s that has to look away.
“What?” you said
“Nothing” he clears his throat and looks down at the water
“We should probably head back to the car. The sun is starting to set”
You nod quietly and make your way to the shore. After one last glance at Jungkook, you walk over your things.
The walk back to the car was silent. He offered to carry your bags for you. You had rejected his offers repeatedly, but he insisted on carrying them up the steep hill back up. The way back was anything but smooth. The road was bumpy which ended with you and Jungkook bumping arms after every bump, it was summer which meant humid air. Your skin is slick with sweat. Wishing you were back to the dorms so you could soak in the hot tub.
~
When everyone got back to the hotel Mr. Kwan let everyone roam freely. You decided to head upstairs to your room to relax before going to the backyard spot of the building. When you open the room, you’re met with Yunjin and Irene.
“God, the sun has me so exhausted I could crash right now.” you said as you lay on your bed, body spread into a star fish.
“I know, who knew the beach would be full of that much trash” Yunjin complained
“Atleast we get to switch off, so we feel as equally as drained” you told her
“Yeah, lifeguarding was so easy. All we did was sat there in the sun and waited for someone who needed help in the water” Irene added
“Well lucky you guys, I literally took laps around the whole beach and still managed to find a piece of trash in the place I was already in.” Yunjin rolled her eyes playfully
“Well if you guys aren’t tired, you wanna join me in the backyard area?”
“No, you guys go ahead. I think I’m just gonna crash after I clean myself up. My body’s gonna be so sore tomorrow” she complained
“Yeah, I was planning on walking into the city and look for more things we can do while were here” Irene said
Looks like it was just you tonight.
~
When you woke up from your nap you looked at the clock and it read 8:00 pm. It was much later than you anticipated it to be. You get up from your bed and walk over to the bathroom. Turning on the sink you splash some water onto your face to wake yourself up a little more. You walk over to your drawer and pick out one of the bikinis you have packed.
It was a simple black two piece with bows on both sides of the hip. Covering your body up with only a T-shirt you make your way downstairs with a towel in hand and slippers on your feet. You open the gate and walk past the pool area to get to the hot tub. Before you left you grabbed a small speaker you planned on bringing and placed it next to the table near you. Playing calm music, you sink down into the water and relax your muscles.
It’s not a few minutes later you hear the gate crack open. You open your eyes and your met with the sight of Jungkook. He hadn’t put a shirt on before coming down there. His abs were out for display, his tattoos pretty as ever in the moonlight. His biceps are so visible that you almost faint. He looks to see where the music was coming from and catches sight of you in your bikini. Shirt thrown over the table with the speaker close to you. He walks over to you.
“Hi” he says lowly he stands behind you and his arms are leaning against the edge of the hot tub. His face hovering over yours. Your breath hitches as you realize how close he is.
“Hi’ you say quietly.
He moves so he can climb into the pool with you. Jungkook sits on the opposite side of you and relaxes in the water as you did. After a beat of silence, he speaks up
“I haven’t properly talked to you since” he pauses
“Ever actually”
You scoff and turn your head to the side in disbelief
“Yeah, I wonder why”
“Do you really hate me that much? All of that happened years ago, why can’t you just let it go?”
“Jungkook you called me names and you made me miserable. Not having those top grades; I would be punished so harshly because I wasn’t smart enough for my parents. I still hate you to this day because you never realized how much hurt you put me through?! There were so many times I've overheard you talk so lowly about me. Jungkook we didn't even know each other!"
"So, to answer your question, yes, I do hate you. Stop trying to talk to me out of the blue and act like we're friends because we're not. Leave me alone" Before you can get up to leave you feel his grasp tight around your wrist.
"Hey, look, I'm sorry. Okay? I'm sorry I did all of that. But cut me some slack, I was failing and I finally got my shit together until you came in with your perfect grades and knocked me down. But like I just said this is all in the past. Can you please forget it?" he pleads
You pause for a moment, were you overreacting? Possibly. But you will never forget the cruel words he spoke about you. One last look over at him and you retreat back to your dorm.
~
It’s been a week since your last encounter with Jungkook. He hasn’t made any moves to try and talk to you. Your group was now doing trash pick-up around the beach. It was supposed to be hotter than the week before now that it’s getting later into the summer.
As you were walking around the beach to do your task you had a slight feeling of dizziness, but you decided to ignore it. You brushed it off as a headache due to skipping lunch and only having water. It was then that you realized that wasn’t the case because before you could lean back up from picking up a piece of trash you stumble back. Jungkook notices this and quickly runs over to you.
He stood behind you support you with his arm wrapped around your neck.
“Are you okay? You look pale, do you need water? Or I brought a few snacks in my bag before we left, do you want me to grab one for you?” he said quickly laying you down on the sand.
“Water is fine, thank you”
He walks over to his bag to give you his water bottle he drank from earlier. You quickly took a few gulps and retracted it from your lips. Jungkook looks down at you with a worried look.
“Look, I’m fine just give me a few minutes and I’ll be up good as new.”
“No, just stay here there isn’t that much left to be picked up. Stay in the shade until I come back. I won’t be too long” He walks away to finish your tasks with gloves over his hands also with a bag, and a trash scoop.
It’s minutes later that he’s back kneeling in front of you check how you were feeling.
“You don’t look so pale anymore. We should be done for today; the sun is already starting to set, and we should be heading back now.” he says as he looks at you.
He turns his back still in a kneeling position and you look at him confused.
“What are you doing?”
“Get on my back. You’re too tired to walk up the hill, I don’t want you passing out.”
“I’m not gonna pass out Jungkook. Stop being so dramatic” you say in an annoyed voice.
“Just get on my back” he demands.
You sigh and hop on his back like he asked. He had his bag swung around to the front of his body. He stands up and carries you like you weigh nothing. After reaching the top of the hill he sets you down and you thank him quietly. You both walk back to the car where everyone else is and drive back to the dorms.
~
As you and Jini were done putting on your face masks you hear and sudden knock on the door. When you open the door, you’re face to face with Jungkook. He looks up to see your bare face. It takes him a minute to get his words out
“My friends and I were gonna head out to get some drinks if you wanna join us”
You look at him with astonishment. Thinking back to your conversation from a week ago. Before you could decide against it Jini walks up to the door.
“Hey, Jungkook. Why are you over here so late? Shouldn’t you be in your dorm?” she asked
“Uh, yeah, I am but I was just asking if you guys wanted to come out with us tonight. Were just going out for drinks at this club I found not too far from here.”
“Oh sure! We’d love to go!” she says as she looks at you
You sigh and smile at her.
“Okay great come down whenever you're ready and meet us in the common area.” he says before walking away back into his room.
After you close the door, you walk over to the other girls and ask them if they wanted to go out with you.
“Oh yeah! Sure, we haven’t been out drinking in a while. And it’s nice to get out and away from the program and the dorms for a little bit.” Irene replied
“Yesss, I need to get out. I’ve been couped up in this building for far too long.”
Now with everyone’s agreement you all get dressed pretty for your night out. Grabbing a dress, you took out a SKIMS black dress that fitted you perfectly. You threw a cropped leather jacket with it and black heels. Your neck was decorated with a small chain, and you put your hoops on. The makeup look you went for was light. It consisted of eyeliner, mascara, and natural colored lipstick.
Once everyone was dressed you all headed downstairs to meet up with the guys. As you landed on the last step you look up at everyone. More specifically Jungkook. He had on a black jacket with black cargo pants. He also had chucky sneakers to go along with it. His ears were clad with multiple earrings, and you look down to his lip and see his lip piercing. He looked extremely good for tonight. He makes his way over to you.
“Are you guys ready?” he asked everyone, but his eyes stayed on you.
Yuno had ordered an Uber to drive to the club everyone jumped into the car and that left you sitting next to Yunjin. Jungkook was sitting by the window with Jini in between him and Eunwoo. Yuno and Irene had to order a seperate car because they wouldn’t fit into the car you were all in.
~
At the club there seemed to be a long line. Eunwoo knew a quicker way in and you followed behind him. You entered from the back way, where no one else could see you.
“Why don’t you guys go find a seat. We’ll get the drinks for you” Jungkook yelled over the music so you could hear better.
“Okay” you yelled back as you looked around for a big table.
The room was filled with strobing lights and heavy-based music. The dance floor was full of sweaty bodies. The air around you was humid "I feel so suffocated in here" you said aloud
" You wanna go outside for a minute" Jungkook came up beside you and placed a hand on your back.
"No, it's fine I'll get used to it" you smile at him.
The boys came back with your drinks and set them down in front of you. They had bought multiple shots and took them one by one.
Once you all had a decent amount of alcohol in your system you moved to the dance floor. Irene led everyone as they all followed behind. Jungkook was closest to you. He tried his hardest to keep his hands to himself, but you were making it difficult.
Your hips move to the beat of the song. He watched as you dance like you didn’t give a damn about anything. He smiled as he watched you in your own world. Jungkook starts to dance along with you, and you turn around and move with him. His hands now on your waist as you put your hands around his neck. His hands moved down to clasp around your lower back. He leans his head forward so it’s now resting against yours. You look up into his eyes and then down to his lips. You lean in closer, and then you're interrupted.
“You mind if I cut in?” a random man from the crowd asks
You now feel uncomfortable as you let go of him. He walks in front of you and stands protectively with one hand on your arm. Jungkook looks at the guy and his jaw clenches.
“Look man were just trying to relax and have fun. Leave us alone” he defends. You look down and see his hands clutched into a fist.
“I came out to have some fun too.” You turn your head towards the man
“And it looks like she’s getting a little bored” he laughs
“She’s fine, look if you don’t get the fuck out of here there gonna be a fucking problem” Jungkook yells.
The man starts to walk closer and extends his hands up to you. You clutch the back of Jungkook’s jacket tightly. He moves forward and swings at the man.
“What did I tell you. Get the hell out before I knock the shit out of you.” he yelled.
“Jungkook stop, let’s go” you grab his arm and try to pull him away.
Before you can move him away the man stands back up and tries to hit him before he can dodge it. He moves a little too slow and gets punched. He looks down to his hand and sees red cover his fingertips. Jungkook goes in for another swing and knocks him to the floor.
“Jungkook!! Stop it, just leave it alone so we can go” He looks up at you and turns away. You walk back to the table to collect your things so you can leave the club. You reminded yourself to text the others to let them know that you left. Jungkook sits on the curb, and you kneel in front of him. You pull out a tissue from your purse and put it up to his nose. After a beat of silence, you were the first to speak up.
“You know, I think I hate you a little less now” you say with a smile
He looks up at you and chuckles
“Thank you, for doing that. I don’t know what I would’ve done. And I’m sorry you got hit”
“Don’t mention it. As long as you’re okay, then I’m good” he says.
You smile to the floor and decide to order an uber so you could go back to the dorms
As you’re about to walk into your door you turn around and stop Jungkook before he could enter his room
“Jungkook, thank you again. I had fun tonight, minus the fight” you giggle
“I’m glad you did, goodnight” he smiles
“Goodnight Jungkook”
~
You’re back on lifeguard duty this week. It’s a bunch more calm than the first week of lifeguarding. Instead of sitting and switching spots for hours and not doing anything, you were able to roam around. As you were sitting on the chair you spoke up
“Hey, are you thirsty? I was gonna walk over to that hut to get something to drink” you point into the diretion of the stall.
“Nah, I’m good, thank you.”
Standing to walk away, Jungkook can’t stop thinking about that night as he watches you make your way. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way you had your arms around. And how you trusted him to protect you. How close your lips were before that guy interrupted. He shakes his head from his thoughts and thinks about something else.
When you walk up to the stall you order a lemonade. You pay the man and wait for your drink. Looking around to see if anybody else was around, you see a guy. He’s about your age and much taller than you. He notices you looking at him and you turn your head back to the bar. From the corner of your eye you see him make his way towards you.
“Hey” he said as he tries to catch your attention. You turn your head towards him and greet him back.
“Hi” you smile at him
“Are you around here? I’ve never seen you before”
“Ah no, I’m not, I’m here for a program I volunteered for. I’m a lifeguard.” you told him
“Oh really? That seems like fun, I’m Kai by the way”
You tell him your name “It may seem like fun, but really all I do is sit and watch the people enjoy their time as I bake in the sun.”
He laughs at that. He clears his throat and speaks again
“Um, my friends and I are playing volleyball further down the beach. If you want to you can join us?”
Before you could answer Jungkook comes behind you and puts a hand around your waist. You look down to his hand up to him. He’s wearing his sunglasses over his head.
“Actually we have to get back to our dorm after our shift. We’re a bit busy at the moment.” he says with a smile on his face.
Kai looks at him with a surprised expression on his face. He looks down to you, you aswell have a look of confusion plastered across your face. Kai looks down and chuckles.
“Alright, sorry for asking.” with that he walks away his ego a little bruised.
“What the hell are you doing?” you look up at Jungkook.
“I was getting thirsty. And you were taking forever so I wanted to check on you.” he shrugs.
“You didn’t need to check up on me. I was fine” you roll your eyes at him
“Plus he was cute. I was so close to getting his number”
After hearing you say that Jungkook’s jaw clenches. He absolutely hates that he feels this way right now. Deciding to brush it off you both make your way back to your spot. Getting closer to the end of your shift. You start to pack your things as the beach dies down.
~
Back at the dorms Mr. Kwan decided to gather everyone for dinner to celebrate your hard work for the past month. Once you and Jungkook make it back he helps you take your things out of the car and follows you up to your room.
When you turn your back to him he waits for you to unlock the door; “Thank you” you say to him. He hands you your bags and stops for a minute. The air is stuffy around you. You wait for him to speak up and say something. But his lips never move.
Before you know it, his face is leaned over yours, and your lips are over his.
The kiss is soft. Your heart is beating out of your chest, and you need to stop to catch your breath. Parting from his lips you look up into his eyes, noses touching; he takes a deep breath before walking away to his room, leaving you dazed and speechless; not knowing what to do you stand there and try to comprehend what had just happened.
Yunjin is on the other side of the door when you walk in. She looks up at you. “What happened?” she asked. You unintentionally ignore her and walk to the bathroom. Your face is burning with rosy cheeks. You replay the kiss in your head. It was completely out of the blue and caught you off guard. How were you supposed to act normal the next time you saw him. The dinner was in less than 3 hours. With all the extra time you decide to get ready and drift your mind elsewhere.
~
After everyone had finished getting ready. When you and Irene make it down the stairs Irene heads straight to Yuno. The night of the club you never heard her come back to the dorm. You suspected she had spent the night with him. She had her arms around his waist looking at him with hearts in her eyes.
Now by yourself you look around for any of your friends. You see Jungkook; he looks at you, but he doesn’t do anything. He meets you eye and looks away to his friend. The feeling you felt in your chest was confusion, anger, and a little hurt. How could he kiss you like that and act like it didn’t happened? Turning your body to find Yunjin; she walks down the stairs and her face lights up when she spots you.
“Okay, are you ever gonna tell me what the hell happened before you walked through our door or what. Your face was so red.” she asked curiously
“I’ll tell you later, I don’t want to think about it right now”
She looks at you with a worried look and shakes her head. Everyone gets into a car and the driver drives to the restaurant.
~
Once all the students were seated, Mr. Kwan raises his glass and clinks it with the back of a butter knife. “I would like to praise you all for working so hard for this past month” he says enthusiastically. He raises his voice an octave higher “With all your hard work I would like to give you the last 3 weeks of this month free, please relax, enjoy yourseleves, and have fun. You all earned it” he announces. A bunch of chattering is heard all around. “Now, please enjoy your dinners”
From across the room you see Jungkook laughing and chatting with his friends. Looking at him made you feel this sense of anger. Why are you mad at him when you hate his guts? Why are you did you feel that way when he had his soft lips over yours? Why were you feeling those emotions when you saw that girl flirt with him down at the beach? Why are you feeling all these things about him now?
Why
Why
Why?
All of these questions spiraling through your head like a mantra. Not taking the overthinking you walk out the resturaunt to get some fresh air. When you walk past his table he sees you walk to the exit. Jungkook excuse himself from his friends; he stands and walks into the direction you took.
He looks through the glass door and sees you pacing with your hands on your hip and a hand in your hair. You turn to the sound of the door opening. Jungkook stood there and walked closer to you. But, you take a step back.
“What was that” you ask him.
“What was what?” he has a confused look on his face
“Why are you playing dumb?! You’re just gonna act like you never kissed me and... and I wouldn’t do anything about it?” you exclaimed at him. Your emotions were all over the place. You had no idea how to handle them
He says your name quietly “It was just a stupid kiss, no big deal”
Suddenly, you felt a burning sensation in the back of your eyes. You didn’t know for sure how you felt. But you were sure there was something there.
“Okay” quietly
“I was just being stupid and thought something different but I guess I was wrong” you nod your head and make your way back into the resturaunt.
The tears dropping down onto your cheek made you feel pathetic. Pathetic for making you think that Jeon Jungkook had changed over the years. For thinking that Jeon Jungkook had real feelings for you. Before you walk back to the table you check yourself one last time to make sure your eyes weren’t puffy and your nose wasn’t red. Right now you weren’t in the mood for questions.
Sitting back down at your table and you see Jungkook come back from where you left him. He has his head down with a look of sadness on his face. He sits down next to his friends; less content than how he was before you left to go outside.
~
On the way back to the dorm Yunjin notices that your mood has dropped significantly since you came back into the resturaunt. When you finally settle into your dorm she asks you again, “Okay, for real this time, what the hell is up with you. You’ve been acting so different lately”
And that’s when you explain everything to her. From the kiss and to your conflicted feelings. In all honesty you don’t even know where you stand with Jungkook anymore. You’re between hating him and possibly having the fatest crush on him.
It’s then when it’s later into to the night you decide to call Niki. You missed talking to your best friend. It’d been a while since you last spoke to her.
After three rings she picks up the phone
“Hey babe! How’s the trip been so far? I haven’t spoke to you in so long is everything okay?” she speaks in a soft voice. That’s what you loved about her. She was there for you anytime of the day. You would be okay even if you hadn’t spoke to each other for days at a time. That's the type of friendship you had with her.
“Ugh Niki, I miss you so much. So much has happened and I need to tell you.”
“Oh no, what happened? Did something bad happen?! Did you get hurt?!” she says panicked.
“No no, I’m okay but something did happen.” you reassure her.
“Okay please tell me, you’re scaring me”
“Jungkook kissed me” the line is silent for a moment before it’s not.
“HE WHAT?” she yells into your ear
You have to pull the phone away because of how loud she was.
“He kissed me after one of shifts today. I confronted him about and I feel so stupid for thinking that he liked me because right after I asked him about it he said ‘it wasn’t a big deal’.” you tell her in a sullen tone.
“God is he dumb? Why would you kiss someone randomly and admit that it was nothing?” she sounded irritated.
“Exactly my thoughts. I’m so confused Niki one moment I don’t care about him and the next some girl is giggling next to him touching his arm and I feel so annoyed”
She sighs and calls your name calmly “I may be wrong but it sounds like you have feelings for him”
You pause and register what she just said. You? Had feelings for Jeon Jungkook? Everything is starting to come together in your head. You finally speak up
“Yeah, I think I do”
~
It’s been about a week since the dinner. You hadn’t seen Jungkook. The only few times you’d seen him was when you went downstairs to eat breakfast or when he left his room to go elsewhere. But tonight was different. With the free time you were given you spent it at the beach. You hadn’t gone swimming in the ocean for quite some time so you decided to put on a bikini, threw on some clothes you had laying in your drawer, and grabbed a towel from one of the cabinets in the hall.
You made your way down to the beach by yourself and brought your mini speaker with you. The playlist you had put on was a slow playlist. You watched the sun set while the song My Love is All Mine by Mitski played in the background. While the sun was still out you decided to take off your clothes and go into the water
From afar Jungkook spots you standing near the water; the waves are calm; he admires you from where he’s standing. You, completely unaware of his presence you dip your body into the water until it touches your waist. Your hair flowing in the soft wind. Behind you, you hear the water moving. When you turn your body to the sound; there he is. He’s standing with his shirt off arms out to see and his abs for show.
Completely in awe you snap out of it and turn back around.
“What do you want” you ask quietly.
“What? It’s a public beach. It’s not like you reserved this spot” he retorts back
“No, Jungkook. What do you want.” You hear him sigh. He takes a deep breath and finally says
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry that I kissed you so suddenly, I’m sorry I made you feel the way you did after I said that kiss was nothing, I’m sorry because that kiss made me feel so much.” he pleads. He places his arms on your waist and continues. “I’ve wanted to give you that kiss since I first saw you at the train station. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since we bumped into each other at the café”
It had been several months since that incident.
You walked in on a cool spring day. The bell chimed at the top of the door as you made your way over to the counter. After you had made your order, you turned to walk over to a table. But before you can take a step you bump into something –or more something- you look up and see Jeon Jungkook. You hadn’t seen him since the beginning of sophomore year. He looks down at you with an irritated look; but when he sees your face his expression drops. You looked so cute with your double layers on; making you look so soft and hugable; your hair was up in a clip and your cheeks were rosy from the cold.
“Sorry” you had told him quickly and made your way over to your table. Jungkook was surprised it was you. You had grown into such a beautiful woman. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. From then on, he couldn’t get you to escape his mind.
“I heard from Yuno about this trip and figured you’d go, I thought this would be my chance to make things right between us. I’m so sorry I said all those things to you while we were growing up, I was stupid and let my ego get in the way. So, when I first saw you it’s like I couldn’t see anything else but you.” he confesses.
All of this new information being thrown at you, you don’t know what to do with it. You had thought for all those years and all this time the hate between you two was mutual. You couldn’t have been more wrong.
“I want you to understand my feelings for you. I want to try and make it w-” before he can even finish his sentence you pull him by his hair and connect your lips. He raises his eyebrows and sinks into the kiss. His tongue slips into your mouth. He places his hands under your jaw and his other on your waist. Without breaking the kiss, he picks you up; you wrap your legs around his waist. The sun has set by now and it’s starting to get cold. He let’s go of your lips and look into your eyes. You move your lips closer to his ear and whisper “You wanna go warm up somewhere else?”
Quickly, he drags you out of the water while you giggle into the air. He places you down and hurriedly picks your things up. He grabs your hand, and you make your way back to his dorm. His roommates are supposed to be out tonight; you had the whole room to yourselves.
~
Pushing you against the door he smacks his lips against yours. You sneak your hands under his shirt and feel his abs flex against your fingertips. You move to lift his shirt off his body. He kisses down your neck; he lifts your shirt over your head and your left with your bikini top and your shorts. He lifts you off the floor and manhandles you onto his bed. You lay on your back and look up at him. Your legs are spread with him standing between them. He glides his hand up your thighs and he drags your shorts down your leg.
You’re left with just your bikini on now. He kisses you on your inner thighs close to where you need him the most. Jungkook grabs the bow that ties your bikini together and undoes it. Your heat is exposed to the cold air. He kisses your hip getting closer to your pussy; his hot breath touches your lips, and you gasp quietly. Finally, he makes contact; he glides his tongue through your folds, and you make small sounds of pleasure. His tongue makes figure eights over your clit; he moves his hand under your thighs to pull you closer to his mouth. His strong grip has you breathless.
Jungkook squeezes your inner thigh and gives small kisses around your cunt. He dives back in and the only thing in the air is the sound of him slurping and licking up your slick. You moan his name out loud and place your hands in his hair.
“Jungkook” you moan out loud
“Say that again, baby. Let me hear you” he says
“Ugh, Jungkook please, please don’t stop.” you plead desperately
“Yeah, that’s it. Who’s making you feel good?”
“You! You are Jungkook!” you shout
You start to feel the pressure in your lower tummy. You tightly close your eyes, and you see stars. He pushes you through your orgasm and finally pulls away after you pull on his hair so he’s hovering over your face. You bring him down to kiss you. He slips his tongue in and kisses you softly. You can taste yourself on his lips. Jungkook pulls away and scans your face. Your fucked out gaze looking up at him. He places his hand over your cheek and stares at you.
“You’re so God damn beautiful. So pretty like the stars. I can look at you forever.” he says to you lowly. You look up into his boba eyes, you can see the galaxy in them. He looked so pretty up closely.
He leans in and kisses you next to your cheek. He kisses your neck and then, he pushes himself up. He’s on his knees in front of you. You can see his outline through his shorts. You go to sit up and place a hand over him. He looks down at you and you place soft pecks over his covered cock. He groans loudly; you then start to play with the waistband of his shorts; slowly you pull them. He’s left bare in front of you. You move your hand to stroke him. Feeling his prominent veins; you thumb at his throbbing tip and place soft kisses over it.
“Baby, what are you doing to me.” He looks down at you and strokes your hair.
“Can you take me in your mouth? Or am I too big for you” he teases
You laugh at that “I don’t know, why don’t we find out”
You like a stripe down his length and stop at his tip. Looking up into his eyes; his lips are parted and he breathless. His hand is placed on the back of your head. Finally, you take him into your mouth, starting slow. He moans and tilts his head back, his grip on your hair tightens. You bob your head back and forth, using your tongue and swirling it around his tip. Your hand moves to fondle his balls, and this makes his cock twitch. Hips moving to the rhythm of your mouth and his hand guiding you to his dick.
“Can I fuck your mouth baby?” You look up at him and nod.
“Tell him if I’m hurting you. Tap on my thigh if you want me to stop” With that he slams his cock to the back of your throat. You take deep breaths as you gag on him. Your nose hitting his pelvis he speeds up his thrusts.
“Fuck yeah, that’s it sweetheart. Doing so good for me” he praises you.
When you reach down to your pussy you can feel you’ve gotten wetter. He looks down to your where your hand was and pulls you away for a second
“Nuh uh, who said you could touch yourself? Only good girls get what they want if they behave” he reprimands
He pulls you back onto him and starts at the pace he was at before.
Before he can finish in your mouth, he pulls you away.
“Fuck I need to finish inside you. Can I do that, baby?” he asks you for reassurance
You nod up to him.
“I need you to say it, honey”
“Yes, please” you moan
“Turn around, ass up face down” he demands
He looks down between your ass and his cock. He then looks up between your shoulders. Your hair thrown over your shoulder and your top still on. Jungkook moves his hand along your back and unties what’s left of your bikini.
“Fuck” he says under his breath. Finally, he takes hold of his length and drags it along your folds. You whimper silently patiently waiting for him to enter you.
He strokes himself a few more times; you feel him enter you. Gasping loudly, he groans into your ear and moves at a slow pace.
“More, Jungkook, please” you beg
“Since you asked nicely” Suddenly he pounds into your hips. You can feel him in your stomach. His pace is rapid; hard.
“You’re so deep Jungkook, fuck!” you moan.
Repeating his name repeatedly like a song. You can feel his cock twitch inside of you. You can feel every vein that around him. Every thrust you feel them against your walls. He lifts your body until your back hits his chest. His hands over your tits squeezing. Rolling your nipples between his fingers. He kisses your neck, and he places his hand over your abdomen. “God, I can feel myself inside of you, baby” you whimper into his neck. And that’s when you finally snap. You tighten around him.
“God! Jungkook! You make me feel so good, baby” you cry.
With three final thrusts he finishes inside you. Breath heavy he slowly moves, milking himself in your tight cunt.
He places you down on his pillow and slowly removes himself from you. You whimper quietly from the loss of the feeling of him inside.
“I need to clean you up and you need to go pee” he says
Picking up his shirt that you threw across the room he wipes you down and you twitch from sensitivity. When he’s done, he looks over your face and giggles.
“Come on, honey. I’ll help you shower when you’re done.”
“Okay” you say softly.
~
After your shower you and Jungkook lay in his bed. He’s not expecting his roommates to comeback; they had gone out clubbing and he assumed they’d be out all night in someone else’s bed. Your head placed over Jungkook’s naked chest you draw shapes over his chest. Jungkook grabs your wrist and notices one of the bracelets you're wearing.  
“You never thanked me for this” he says holding your wrist still  
“What are you talking about? This old lady gave it to me for free a few weeks ago when we first got here” 
He chuckles at you “That was me, I paid for it and asked her to play a part. Apparently she played her part well because you had no idea.” he boops your nose. You scrunch your face; you look up at him in disbelief.  
“I can’t believe you do that, what if she talked to the wrong girl, huh?” you said amusingly 
“Then some random girl would’ve gotten a free bracelet” he shrugs.  
You laugh at him. “Well, thank you for this” you look up at him and peck his lips.  
He digs his face into your neck and mumbles a small “Of course”  
Then, you feel his lips press small kisses into the juncture of your neck, you start laughing. All of a sudden, he stops. He lifts his head so he’s looking at you.  
“What are we?” he asks  
Realizing you never really told him how you felt. Isn’t it obvious though?  
“I could ask you the same thing Jeon”  
Whispering your name, he says “I really like you; I want to make up for my behavior throughout the years I’ve known you. I feel so guilty because of the way I treated you. I’m sorry I ever said those mean things to you, baby” he wraps he arms around you; cuddling you. 
“I forgive you” you hug him around his broad shoulders. “I like you too, Jungkook. Can we forget all of that? I want us to focus on the future only now.”  
He nods at you and smiles. “Sooo, does this make you, my girlfriend?” he asks with a cheeky smile.  
Giggling at his silly smile you nod “Yeah, I guess so, boyfriend”  
He buries his into your neck again and sighs contently. It’s not long before you two are cuddling in the sheets and hes whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you drift off to sleep.  
The next morning, you wake up to the other side of the bed empty. The sun is shining brightly in your face. You look down to your body and see the shirt Jungkook must have put on you while you were sleeping last night. You get up from the bed and walk over to the bathroom; but you don’t register the already running water turning off. When you walk in you see Eunwoo naked walking out of the shower. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry” you cover your eyes and quickly walk out. Picking up clothes that were thrown across the room from the previous night you manage your way back to your own room.  
Thankfully, the girls are out doing their own thing. You walk to your own bathroom and clean yourself up a bit before walking downstairs to the kitchen. The air is filled with the smell of pancakes, eggs, and bacon. Turning the corner you see Jungkook in a fitted sports t-shirt, over the stove cooking.  
You walk up to him and wrap your arms around his torso.  
“Good morning” you say in a sleepy voice 
“Hi, sweetheart” he turns his body so he facing you now. He leans down to peck your lips. His nose brushing against yours. You smile at him.  
“How did you sleep last night?” Looking up at him with an amusing look 
“Well you put to sleep pretty damn good last night so I’d say a ten out of ten” you laugh as you get your coffee ready. He sneaks up behind you and puts his hands around your waist. 
“I did, huh?” he lowly says into your ear.  
He sways you side to side and digs his face into your neck.  
“I was thinking maybe we can go out today and we can hang out in the city. We haven’t been here in a while; I want to see if they changed anything.” 
This was Jungkook’s hometown. He basically knew everyone. When he finished cooking your breakfast you both sat together in comfortable silence and ate.  
Finishing up your meals, you volunteered to clean up the dishes, but he was persistent in doing them himself. After fighting for about ten minutes, you give up and walk upstairs to get ready for the day. The outfit you chose was perfect for the weather. Your makeup was simple, and your hair was casting down your shoulders. When you finish putting on your shoes you hear a knock on your door. 
Walking up to open it you see Jungkook wearing a big puffer jacket, white tank top, and light blue jeans. His hair slightly covers his eyes. The chain around his neck and his piercings does something to you. You look up at him and smile.  
“Hi” looking at him with stars in your eyes.  
You look so undeniably cute. With little bows in your hair and your soft cheeks looking at him. He looks down at you and leans in to peck you on the lips.  
“C’mon, let’s go”  
The weather today wasn’t as harsh as those other sunny bright days. It’s a bit colder than the last few weeks. It was a good thing you brought an extra jacket just in case. You cand Jungkook walk down the streets hand in hand. Looking around for the places you used to hang out at with your friends when you were still in grade school. 
When you found the –now small- playground you and Niki used to play at, you let go of Jungkook’s hand and ran to it.  
Gasping out loud you say “Oh god, it’s so much small than I remember. I haven’t been here in years.” amazed by how time flies by so quickly. Jungkook watches you with a fond smile as you reminisce on the old times. You sit down on the swings and gently swing your legs back and forth. Jungkook stands next to the swing as he watches you. The sun was shining on you and he looks at your eyes they’re glowing as you look down the sand with a smile on your face.  
He goes to stand in front of you and holds on to the chain and stops you from swinging. You look up at him when you see his shoes appear in front of you. His hands over yours and he leans in close to your face.  
His lips locking with yours in a soft kiss. He pulls back and he says “You’re so beautiful.” he places a hand on your cheek.  
He looks into your eyes and he makes a promise.  
Saying your name in a low voice he says “I promise you, I will to take care of you for as long as you let me. I promise I won’t hurt you. I promise to stay” 
You look up into his eyes with tears laying on your water line. Moving your head to lay on his forehead. 
Then, you pull him into a kiss.  
“I promise, I don’t hate you Jeon Jungkook” 
a/n: ahhh okay, i realllly hope you guys liked it, this idea came out of no where and I kinda made the plot up as I wrote, please show some support by reblogging, liking, commenting, and giving some feedback! I'd appreciate it so much
3K notes · View notes
tteokdoroki · 19 days
Text
𐙚 🪷 TRUTH OR DRINK katsuki bakugou .ᐟ
⋆˙ᝰ about ! “you love me, you take care of me. that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever done f'me." with the release of your husband's newest album and the announcement for his latest tour, the two of you are invited on set to film a special kind of promotional video for newlyweds. hopefully, this married couple leave without a hangover. ( 4.8K )
warnings ! minors blank and ageless blogs do not interact. sfw, fluff, suggestive, angst if you squint, celebrity!au, all characters are aged up to 20s, mentions of sex, mentions of alcohol, drinking, newlyweds, exes, some family issues, long-distance, idol!bakugou, fem + model!reader - not beta read!
aali’s love letter ! happy birthday bakugou! another splendid year for our lord saviour dynamght !! i posted this late boo but its out!! i hope you guys are still able to enjoy <3 ty to @cuntcure for helping out n motivating me !! - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“fuck, we’re really doing this, huh?”
across from you, katsuki bakugou shifts uncomfortably  — ruby red eyes darting around the plain white set. studio lights glare from all directions, illuminating the slight sweat that beads at the blonde’s hairline. artificial lighting, bright and made to capture everything, refracts of the pearling perspiration and almost creates the illusion of a halo around the crown of your partner’s head. almost as if he’s an angel.
reaching over the small table that the producers have set up between you both, you grasp at katsuki’s rough fingers, toying with them as if to test the waters before you hold them fully — once he’s comfortable enough to accept your physical affection. his palms are warm and a little sweaty, but that doesn’t stop you from giving them a gentle squeeze. 
“it’ll be fun,” you whisper, keeping your voice low and calm as the production crew continues to contrastingly flit around you in preparation for the shoot. “and it’ll be great promo for your album!” lifting his hands, you press a kiss to the blonde’s knuckles as though you’re sealing a promise, ensuring that they’re not empty. you smile reassuringly and bakugou returns it awkwardly, drawing back just a tad when a member of production sheepishly approaches the table to set down three different bottles of alcohol, two shot glasses and a pitcher of pineapple and coconut juice as your mixer of choice. 
glass bottles of whisky, rum, and vodka glit under the white light too.
“we can back out at anytime,” comes your soft reminder once the crew member retreats to check the sound mic and cameras along with some other staff. “i want you to be comfortable.” 
bakugou shakes his head, this time, bringing the backs of your hands to his lips — pale blonde lashes fluttering as he shuts away ruby framed eyes and takes a breath to calm himself. “wanna do it. like y’said it’ll be good. fun.” when he opens his eyes again, he’s looking at you with a toothy smirk that never fails to send a shiver down your spine and butterflies in a flurry through your tummy. “besides, we haven’t been able t’do somethin’ like this together in a while.” 
nothing beats your grin after that and with a few more touch ups to your make up ( the both of you ) — you’re ready to begin filming. 
“okay guys!” the director on set claps their hands. “wanna start us off? who are you and what are you doing here today?” 
you give katsuki’s hands one last comforting squeeze before his crimson gaze slinks towards the camera that’s now rolling, fixating on its blinking red light as it matches his stare. “‘m katsuki bakugou ‘nd this is my wife,” he juts his head over to you gently, muttering your name with love laced between each of its syllables. 
you too turn to face the camera, award winning smile settling gracefully on your lips. “and today we’re playing truth or drink!” you squirm excitedly. “we’re really happy to be here! thank you for having us!” 
“i’m not.” 
“katsuki!” 
with a laugh behind the camera, the producer speaks again. “so, you’re some pretty special guests. what do you guys do? how long have you two been married?”
bakugou rolls his eyes at the enthusiasm. “i’m a singer-songwriter slash idol or whatever you wanna call it…and i’m on tour right now. so buy my album or you’re shit.” 
“and i’m a fashion model slash content creator. we’ve been together for like…five years? married for half a year? a year?” musing out loud, you switch your gaze from the camera to katsuki — letting him know with your eyes that he’s doing a great job.
“eight months, three weeks ‘n two days.” he corrects you seriously, causing sweet laughter to bubble up on your lips. 
“sorry, folks. eight months, three weeks and two days.”  you retort jokingly. bakugou rolls eyes ruby framed eyes again.
“okay, so still pretty new. let’s start with a shot, shall we?”
ever the gentlemen, your husband  pours you a decently sized shot using a drink he knows you like without even asking. he even tops it off with a mixer because he knows that sometimes you can’t get past a bitter aftertaste if the alcohol is too strong. once done with yours, he fills up his own glass before clinking it against yours — both of you knocking back the shot with practised ease. 
“god, that shit’s strong.” the pale blonde grimaces. 
despite having a facial expression to match, you somehow make light of the situation. “really puts hairs on your chest, doesn’t it, kats?”
“you like my tits naked and juicy, shut the hell up,” smirking cockily, katsuki slides your shot glasses to the side and toys with the stacked white question cards in front of him. “her words not mine.” 
“anyways…first card please.” 
doing as he’s told, katsuki flips the first card over — skimming the letters written in bold on the other side before he slams it back down. “‘m takin’ a shot.” 
the shoot has barely begun and you already find yourself bursting into fits of adoring, amused giggles. “no! it’s not even your question to answer! you have to read it, it’s the first card!” you whine playfully.
“alright, fine,” flipping the card over again with a dejected air about him, bakugou announces the question to both you and the camera. “when was the last time we had sex and where did it happen?” 
“oh god.” you pinch your brow.
“told ya. no shots, it’s the first card. y’gotta answer it, babe.” bakugou teases as he casts the card aside, leaning back in his chair slow and sexy like while he watches you hungrily. it’s like making you embarrassed has made him forget that he’s on camera. 
sighing through your nose, you pout at the camera and producers who watch eagerly. “on the way here.” 
“on the way to this shoot? oh my god!” 
“yes! omg. shut up, this is so embarrassing. katsuki don’t laugh!” you practically wail as the set bursts out into laughter. “god, okay. it was on the way here and in the back of the SUV with the partition up. don’t ask me how we had time. katsuki always makes time.” 
said katsuki wiggles two fingers towards the camera knowingly and chokes back a raspy chuckle when you frown in response, scooping up your own card. “next question,” your say as your gaze skims the card. “who is your least favourite parent in law? oooh, spicy.” 
“definitely her dad,” your husband points a thumb in your direction without hesitation but mouths his words straight into the camera. “you’re a piece of shit by the way.” 
the producer pipes in. “can we elaborate?”
“my dad was never the most supportive of my career…but claims everything i have is because of him. it sucks, he's a narcissist and we don’t really speak because of it.” you answer truthfully, attempting to shrug the weight of your familial situation off. you know that most girls dream of having their father walk them down the aisle on their wedding day…but it’s just not in the cards for you. sensing your anger, your hurt and your pain beginning to rise to the surface, katsuki takes the card from you and grasps at your hand — eyebrows raised earnestly into his hairline while he checks to see if you’re okay. a small, wistful smile plays at your lips and you give your partner a gentle nod. “it’s okay though, my mum, mitsuki and masaru have been great parents. katsuki’s mum and dad kept me grounded throughout our engagement, pretty much designed all of my wedding outfits. they were all custom.” 
“outfits? as in multiple?” 
“ah yes! mitsuki insisted that i had changes throughout the day.” you beam, a giddiness replacing any negative emotion you once felt. your future mother in law had done everything in her power to make you feel like a princess on your wedding day — to this day it made you feel extremely grateful for your positive relationship with bakugou’s family.
“they still fuckin’ spoil her, ma styles her for a lot shoots,” the blonde scoffs but the adoration dancing in the almost brown flecks of his carmine eyes tell a different story. “no seriously, ma ‘n pa love you so much. you’re like the daughter they never had.” 
“aw, that’s so cute. i’ll cry.” 
katsuki’s turn to pick a card rolls around again, but he doesn’t let go of your hand the entire time — index finger toying with your engagement ring. “what’s was the most stressful part about planning a wedding?” he reads. “oh, definitely the micromanaging from other people. shit pissed me off,” your husband answers almost straight away, already preparing to fix himself a shot when the producer asks him to elaborate. 
he shakes his head and the producer turns to you. “our managers thought that they could have a say in our ceremony since it was like the celebrity wedding of the year,” shrugging, you fix your own shot which makes your spouse grin. “we ended up having one public and one smaller, private wedding to say fuck ‘em. and no, they didn’t fire me for this.” 
“so a follow up, when you announced your engagement to the world what was a difficult thing you dealt with publicly?” someone from behind the camera asks.
pursing your lips, you look to katsuki for an answer. “the fan wars? some of my fans were…are still caught up on my ex and others think the great singer katsuki bakugou is too good for an influencer like me.” 
“they don’t know shit. you’re too good for the world baby, i don’t deserve you.” 
“corny ass,” you snort directly into the camera’s shot. “i’m sure that’s one of his song lyrics.” 
“is fuckin’ not!” bakugou pouts, though he’ll deny that he was later. “pick another damn card.” 
he pushes the pile towards you once more and you cheekily swipe one from the middle to make the video a little bit more interesting for those watching from home when it comes out. hopefully the viewers get a laugh out of bakugou calling you a cheater and you sticking your tongue out at him in retaliation — he pinches it back. 
“ouch! owie, okay! okay, let go!” flipping the card so that the text is facing you, you begin to read it out loud slowly — nearly bursting out into an incredulous fit of giggles at the question printed in thick black letters. “this is so ironic, baby you’re gonna love this one,” katsuki raises a brow, intrigued by the coy smile you’re barely trying to hide now. “i dare you to call an ex and remind them that you’re happily married.” 
a small silence echoes throughout the studio as you stare at one another, waiting and waiting, until a loud, raspy and haughty laugh rips through bakugou’s throat. 
“what’s so funny?”
the blonde sat opposite you, still as handsome as the day you first met him — with glittering gem eyes that sparkle under the studio lights and a toothy smile that never fails to melt your heart, suddenly grows shy. a rose tint spreads its way over the bridge of his nose and his cheeks that have lost their youthful roundness, katsuki blushes softly but laughs with his entire body — only just embarrassed by the secret he's about to reveal to his most dedicated fans and the rest of the world. 
leaning forward on the table, elbows on the edge, while you tuck your chin in the seat of your palm — biting your lip in amusement. “do you wanna tell them or should i?” 
“i wanna take a fuckin’ short first. can i?” katsuki asks, almost innocently. he knocks back a glass of dark, bitter whisky once he gets the go ahead. “she’s my first. my first everythin’. girlfriend, time, wife—“ 
“i sure hope i’m your first and only wife, kats.” you cut him off swiftly, a mischievous lilt layered thick on your tone.
he slings an arm over the back of his chair, waving you off lovingly. “—you know what i mean, sweets.” bakugou shrugs in the direction of the producers. “i don’t have an ex to call.”
“okay, we’ll have your wife call one.” 
at the film crew’s suggestion, your voice raises an octave, notes of surprise littered through out your melodic voice. “me? who would i even call?” you can’t help but snicker, trying to reach for the juice used for mixer so you can plan your escape route out of the dare. 
your husband snatches the bottle from your reach, holding it protectively against his broad chest. “call shindou.” he grunts out low but highly amused. 
“oh no, i’m not doing that. let me take the shot katsuki.” comes your instant response, tone turning slightly serious.
“who’s shindou?”
“her ex.” 
“my ex.” 
the both of you announce in unison, though you’re a little less entertained by your menace of a blonde husband — still guarding the drinks as he chucks the used question card to the side. 
“why not?” 
“cause it’ll be mean? he still hasn’t recovered from finding out i’m dating the idol he used to train with. yanno, the one who debuted over him.” 
bakugou clicks his tongue cockily.  “he’ll get over it. call him. c’mon, it’ll be funny and you love making me laugh.” 
“alright fine but you have to swear you’ll answer the next one.” you turn to the camera. “he’s right though, his laugh is the prettiest in the world.” 
bakugou blushes as you pull out your phone and scroll to the bottom of your contact list, surprised at yourself for not blocking and deleting the number. holding up the sleek device for everyone to view, you jab a thumb into the speaker button and watch with baited breath as it begins to ring throughout the studio.
“hello, yo speakin’,” a voice a little higher pitched than your husband’s filters through the speaker. it’s familiar, but doesn’t hold any of the comfort that bakugou brings. it’s been years since you ended things with your ex, the relationship was rocky and full of miscommunications and mistrusts before either of you skyrocketed to fame. there’s no malice between you both or a reason to cause katsuki why worry, you hope, but talking to yo shindou nowadays is akin to talking to a stranger. 
giving the camera an awkward thumbs up, you reply shyly. “hi shin, what’s up?” 
“oh hey sweetheart, this is a nice suprise.” your ex purrs through the line. you click the buttons side of your phone to turn up the volume — making sure his every word is picked up by the mics in the room. 
bakugou chimes in, clearly looking for an opportunity to show off. “hey asshole, don’t get too excited.” 
“hello to you too kats, what can i do you for princess?” 
“shin, don’t call me that. also we’re shooting truth or drink right now — newlyweds edition with kats. they wanted me to call, tell you i’m married or something… which i’m sure you know by now.” explaining in a rush, you push at bakugou’s forehead, right between arched, dark blonde brows to keep him and his laughter at bay. 
“it’s all anyone can talk about these days, especially when i’m on set. married couple of the year.” 
the producers mouth to you to ask shindou a question, in which you almost miss underneath the sounds of your newlywed husband suppressing snarky jokes and giggles. “they’re telling me to ask you if you’re happy for me ‘n kats. you don’t have to answer—“ 
“i am. happy for you. katsuki, as big as of an asshole as he is, makes you way fucking happier than i ever did. he’s good to you, but you’re better to him. the world wants to see you guys grow old together… i hope it stays that way or else i’ll have to swoop back in—“
cringing along the millions that will be watching in the near future, you slice through his words politely before bakugou can blow a gasket. “thanks, shin. you’re sweet.” 
“anything for you, sweetcheeks—“ 
“alright, alright. you’re pushin’ it now, freak. r’member i’m the one clapping these sweet cheeks and i’ll always be a better fuck than you—“ abruptly, your newfound husband snatches up your phone — growling possessively down the line as if to ward your ex off. 
“okaybyethankyou!” squealing you hang up the phone and breathe a heavy sigh of relief, head banging on the table in front of you as you try to hide your flustered face. “that went better than expected.” 
the blonde before you shrugs nonchalantly as if he wasn’t seconds away from reaching into the phone and tearing shindou’s head from between his shoulders.  “i do love an opportunity to show you off, rub our marriage in people’s faces.” alas, he pours you both a shot, adding a mixer to yours, sort of as a reward for making it through the call. “kay, next card,” he swipes one from the top of the pile once more, carefully murmuring its contents into the studio’s cool air. “can the both of you name one person you would have invited into your marital bedroom on your wedding night? see if you’re both thinking of the same person. easy. on three?” 
“sure! one, two—“ you count, the temperature of the room raising as it awaits your big reveal. “kirishima.” 
“kirishima.” katsuki says at the same time before smirking cockily at the film crew. “next!”
you join him just as your foot flirtatious slides up his leg from underneath the table. “kats says eijirou is packin’, by the way.” your husband’s smile fades into an embarrassed look, everyone in the room laughing along with you. of course he’s seen it. of course you’ve talked about this before. “anyway, my turn! most romantic thing i’ve ever done for you? c’mon now kats, you can think of something. i’m pretty sweet.” 
reaching for your hand for the nth time during the shoot, bakugou laces his fingers with yours — decadent dark red eyes instantly drawn to the big rock on your engagement ring and the simple gold wedding band that sits above it as he recalls everything you’ve ever done for him. every gesture; every text, every act of physical touch or service. it would be hard to choose just one romantic thing.
the silence as he ponders almost fills you with dread, a nervousness fluttering about in your chest like a butterfly whose wings are beginning to fail them. they’d have to edit this part out if he couldn’t think of anything. 
but then, those plush pink lips that kiss you and call for you, part gently and a soft sentiment escape’s from between them. “you love me,” is all bakugou can say, eyes wide and genuine. “you take care of me. that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever done f'me…and, if we’re talkin’ specifics, you remember that time just before my album came out? before our wedding? i was fuckin’ stressed ‘n i was always locked up in the studio, trying to figure out the track list, the final song…” 
you nod slowly, exhaling deeply through your nose. “yeah?”  the background noise from the crew, cameras and mics wither away until it’s just yourself and bakugou in the room — holding hands as though you’re one another’s life lines. 
“it was three am ‘n you were in another city for a shoot but…you still made the drive over to have dinner with me. to make sure i ate,” the tip of katsuki’s rough and calloused thumb brushes over the bumps formed by your knuckles. “just to help me run through things even though i was freakin’ the fuck out and you had a flight to milan the next day. you ate with me and that meant a lot.” he seems wistful as he talks, forgetting that the world will be able to see his heart beating all tender like when the cameras are put away and the footage is polished up.
perhaps he doesn’t care if the world sees him being so vulnerable with the woman he loves on screen. they’ll usually find such openness hidden between the lyrics of his songs. so, perhaps it’s the little alcohol running through his system. nevertheless, quiet love and appreciation seeps from katsuki bakugou’s pours into the quiet atmosphere of the set, the emotions crash over you in waves that you welcome — almost reducing you to tears brewed just for him.
“you asshole,” you sniff, lacking all the spite the insulting nickname carries. “i didn’t think that night  meant so much to you… i just wanted to see my baby. wanted to make sure you were okay.” 
cocking his head to the side fondly, the blonde singer uses the back of his hand to wipe at your free falling tears you hadn’t realised were there. bakugou doesn’t let go of you the entire time. “don’t cry sweets, you know i hate t’see you cry.” 
watery laughter bubbles up on the seam of your lips. “don’t tell me what to do,”
“you said she drove from another city, would you guys say that distance made things difficult for you?” 
“sometimes,” you answer the director truthfully. “while we were engaged we’d plan our wedding across different time zones. when i was awake walking for fashion week he was sleeping in his studio making songs.” you explain, looking to katsuki to confirm.
he nods along with another squeeze of your hand. “it was hard yeah, but we got through it. now she has my ring on her finger ‘n she’s stuck with me.” 
“send help.” you mouth to the camera.
resuming the game, you snatch up a card and secretly hope that the question is a little more light hearted than the previous. “has my line of work ever made you jealous? oooh, good one,” adding the card to the ones already discarded, you squirm in your seat — excited to know your husband’s answer. “no shots! i want you sober and honest.” 
“i’ve hardly had anythin’ to drink!” katsuki snorts. “what’s the sayin’? a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts? let me have something.” 
“no! i want sober words and sober thoughts, that’s the aim of the game, stink.” 
katsuki rolls his eyes so hard you fear they might drop out of his skull. “spoiled brat,” he mumbles begrudgingly, sucking his teeth. “okay before anyone says anythin’, i’m a secure guy. i trust and value my girl’s word above anyone else’s. i love seein’ her on billboards in every country i visit, on magazines at every airport I’ve ever flown from…”
“it feels like there’s a but coming.” 
“wait for it…” you hum gleefully.
“but i hate that one cover shoot you did with that nerd, izuku, for vogue. that’s it. never do that shit again.” bakugou finishes, crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child.
nearly leaping out of your seat, you point at your husband — bewildered. “i knew it! you said it didn’t bother you!”
“of course it did! he had his grubby arms wrapped around you! he stinks.” 
“you did not just call izuku stinky, he’s got a feature on your album!” 
“his feature can kiss my ass,” you know that bakugou is only half serious, the two have written some beautiful songs together and the cover hardly meant anything — izuku models from time to time as well. it just so happens you also work for the same brands. “my turn again, rate my proposal on a scale of one to ten. how good did i do?”
“nine point five.” you nod assertively, speaking to your audience with love bursting through your heart. “he proposed to me at his first sold out concert, like literally stopped singing and apologised to all of his fans because he had something important to say. that’s when he asked me, in front of his entire world. kats’ is real private so it meant so much to me…”
the blonde leans back in his seat but brings your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss directly to your wedding rings. “only nine point five? cheeky fucker.”
“it’s only ‘cause your genius-self decided to chuck my ring into the crowd?” you scoff. 
“oi! i have good aim, you’re just shit at catchin’ things!” katsuki scoffs back, nudging you with his foot under the table. 
“back to the game love birds.” 
the two of you put your playful little spat on the back burner and you grasp the next card. “how many years into our our marriage do you think we’ll stop having sex—?” 
“never,” katsuki cuts you off, looking directly into the lense as he jabs a thumb in your direction. “i can’t ever get her off my cock. she’s fuckin’ insane.” 
heat flares up underneath the surface of your skin in embarrassment. “fuck you.” 
“right after this shoot, sweetheart.” he winks right back at you before nodding down at the cards. “last two, yeah? did your life turn out as expected?”
chewing on your bottom lip, you give the question some thought. life has an unpredictable nature, no matter who you are or where you come from. if someone had told you a year into your college degree, that you’d be in front of sorts of cameras as a profession for the rest of your life — you wouldn’t have believed them. if someone had told you that you’d find the love of your life shortly after, you would have called them a liar too. your past has been heavy, a dark cloud you never thought you’d be able to escape — hauntingly daunting.
and even though you know that it’s a burden to place the weight of your happiness on someone else’s shoulders — but you know that katsuki has always been your golden, blinding light at the end of the tunnel. he’s something you never expected, but someone you entirely deserve after everything life has thrown at you. 
“no, it hasn’t,” you whisper softly, ever so slightly distinct. your lover leans in, watching you curiously from over stacked question cards and bottles of barely touched alcohol. “i never expected to be so famous so young, that a silly little dream of mine could come true. that i never expected, i still can’t believe it…but, it’s like… meeting you. falling in love with you, on top of all that? it’s like i was destined to be with you, kats. you’re my soulmate. i knew that from the start.” 
just like you earlier, emotion wells up inside katsuki. it breaches the cavity of his chest, slows down the rate of his heart and lungs and brings a slight shine to his beautiful blood red eyes. he sniffs but doesn’t dare look away from you — reading deep into your soul despite knowing the pages of it off by heart. “i feel the same,” he mumbles, reaching over to cup your face even with all of the cameras around. “i never expected to go on tour, sell albums and make music…but i feel like my heart always knew you were waitin’ for me.” quietness fills the space between the two of you, neither of you needing to say much. you cup the wrist of his hand that touched your face, leaning into his palm and pressing a kiss to it. “we’re so fuckin’ corny.” 
“you love it.”  you reply instantly. “i love you.” 
“see?” katsuki asks the production crew as he draws the last card for both of you — holding it out for you to read. “cornball.” 
“it’s cute! she’s cute and corny!”
“what about the rest of our marriage do you look forward to most?” since the video shoot is coming to an end, and you hardly want to cry any more, you both decide to make your answers short and sweet. “i look forward to spending forever by your side, taking over the world one continent at a time.” you gush, meaning every single word, smiling adoringly. 
“ditto, can’t wait to grow old with you, brat.” bakugou mirrors your expression and finally, finally ends the shoot by pressing the ghost of a kiss to your awaiting lips. you feel warm knowing how comfortable he’s grown over the course of filming, even more so at all of the truths he’s given you tonight. 
“that’s a wrap! thank you so much guys!”
katsuki salutes the camera, finishing up for you. “we’ve been the bakugous playin’ truth or drink. buy my album, see me on tour, buy a magazine with my wife’s beautiful face on it. like and subscribe.” all the while, you reflect on everything that you’ve learned about your husband whilst filming — that he loves you a lot more than he lets on, that you have his heart for all of eternity, that nothing in this world and cause his love for you to waver, 
and as your matching wedding bands continue to gleam beneath the dimming studio lights, you only hope that he knows that you feel the exact same way about loving him too.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai & recommend elsewhere.
2K notes · View notes