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runa-falls · 4 months

Text

cocktails

gif from @pirateherokillian

pairing: jake lockley x shy!reader

summary: you finally gain enough courage to make a move on your best friend

cw: explicit (18+), dub-con (reader is tipsy), afab!reader, dry humping to piv pipeline, fingering, multiple orgasms, longing/pining losers, love (?), push-over!jake, needy!reader, 'just the tip' is never just the tip, alcohol consumption, pet names, daddy kink, creampie, fluff :3 -- not beta-read

wc: 5.1k

a/n: pls, it was never supposed to be this long. i'm sorry for taking FOREVER to write this. anyways, this is based off my blabbering in discord -- i dedicate this to my whores (affectionate) <3

mk masterlist | main masterlist

----

You don’t drink.

At least not in front of Jake.

Alcohol makes you…indulgent, to say the least, and that’s a side you’ve been holding back from your best friend.

Yes, you’ve had a drink or two at some group hangouts in the past, but this, you, Jake, and a few bottles of gifted wine, surprisingly has never happened in the past. You’ve made sure of it.

What almost makes it worse is that Jake’s always been a sweetheart about your choices to avoid drinking around him. After your first few bouts of excuses and timid declines, he doesn’t pressure you to keep up with him when he’s knocking back shots or drinking pitchers of beer.

Whenever your other friends press another drink into your hand, he subtly takes it for you, drinking it in large gulps before returning the glass from your hand. And when he pulls away, his fingers always find a way to graze against yours. Thankfully the bars are usually dimly lit so he can’t see the blush heating at your cheeks.

He doesn’t realize it’s because of him. He’s the reason bartenders give you weird looks when you ask for watered-down vodka cranberries or why you’re always the last one standing in your friend group whenever you go out. This restraint around alcohol has gone on for years all because you harbor an intense attraction for your best friend.

It didn’t start that way. He crashed into your quiet life and obliterated the dynamics of your friend group. When you first met him, you thought his cocky and blasé attitude was overcompensating for something.

He’s always been a natural sweet talker, not afraid to approach people and get what he wants, but it seemed too good to be true. He’s too charismatic, too interested in the dull life you live, how did he dig out a hole and place himself so easily in your life?

Easily, too easily, you fell for his sweet words, words that would inevitably draw you into his orbit and leave you hanging off of every syllable.

You learned that no matter what he says, or does, he’s just being friendly. He’s just like that with everyone. It means nothing when he gives you a cheeky grin from across the bar or when he consistently insists on walking you home at night. Sure, he might stick closer to your side than anyone else's, but it’s just because you’re best friends. Right?

Of course, girls have tried and failed to lock down your best friend, misinterpreting his outgoing personality as him propositioning them. And they always come to you – whining over his lack of interest, the sudden and unexpected rejection of their advances, and grappling for any advice from his girl best friend.

“He’s single, isn’t he?” The words are said over the thin rim of a martini glass. She glances over at you with hopeful eyes framed by beautifully dark lashes.

You barely knew the girl’s name, but she offered to buy you a drink (a shirley temple) so you stayed for the conversation, however, you weren’t expecting the topic to circle back to Jake. But after watching her down a couple of martinis, gushing more and more about the man you’ve been pining after for an eon, you felt too bad to leave her.

“Um…as far as I know.” It’s a little uncomfortable, talking about Jake like you’re his keeper.

“Then – then why won’t he go out – or even hook up with me?” Her voice has gotten louder with the exasperation of her inquiries. You look around at the bar, hoping she can keep it together before you’re kicked out for causing a ruckus.

“Look, I don’t know if I’m the best –”

“But you’re his best friend, right?”

“Yes, but –”

“What’s his type?”

His type?

God, you wish you knew. It would make things a lot easier for yourself (and the world). But you genuinely don’t know. You’ve never seen him with a girl. Sure, he could be hooking up on the side, but why would he tell you?

You look down at your glass. All that’s left is ice, melting into an amalgam of pink-tinted liquid around the one maraschino cherry you refuse to eat.

“I don’t know.” You mumble.

—

You’re already through a bottle and a half, lounging comfortably on the overstuffed couch in your living room. Something is playing on the TV but it’s all a blur behind the feeling of his thigh pressing against yours.

Jake has never been afraid of showing his affection through physical means, whether it’s greeting ladies with a friendly peck on the cheek or ruffling one of the guy’s hair when he goes by. It’s natural to him. Casual.

But with you, he’s mostly hands-off.

It’s not that you deign to feel his touch, to feel the scratchiness of his whiskers rub against the edge of your hairline, or lower against the sensitive skin of your throat, you just can’t control your reactions when he does it. Even the light touch of his hand against your lower back when he guides you has you standing straighter.

He noticed your strong reactions to him and backed off, assuming you were uncomfortable or unused to friendly touches. And it was fine until you would do anything to feel him against you again, just one more time. It’s desperate, really, but you don’t really care when he looks at you with those cocoa-butter eyes.

And now, he’s closer than ever but still hands-off. He politely sits next to you, one arm slung over the back of the couch and the other in his lap. But not touching you.

He’s been making commentary about the dumb hallmark movie you impulsively rented, pointing out all the unrealistic plot conveniences and bright red flags that the main character blatantly ignores. He seems relaxed.

You aren’t.

Two stained wine glasses sit on the coffee table, dangerously close to the edge, still holding a sip of liquid. You can barely make out the intricate print of his lips on the edge of the cup, highlighted by the brightness of the hallmark snow scene.

You want so badly to steal the glass away and lick up the residual bitter-sweetness of the wine that’s touched his lips. To taste him, even indirectly. Or directly. Lick the sweetness straight from the source, tongue intermingling with him as he takes just as much from you. You feel yourself pulse from that image alone.

“Bunny?” Heat prickles against the back of your neck as you realize how far away your brain is, thinking such filthy and depraved thoughts of the man who is sitting right next to you.

He dotes on you like a person would their favorite pet cat. He calls you pet names, ones that make you bite your tongue and hide your face in your hands. Bunny was the first one and the one he uses the most.

It came out of nowhere, really. You were both at a small house party and Jake convinced you to join his team in a game of beer pong. You were still a bit nervous around him, still surprised when he’d seek you out for a conversation or to get your opinion on something entirely irrelevant.

You told him upfront that your hand-eye coordination leaves much to be desired, but he was determined to teach you. The first few throws were pitiful, so pitiful, in fact, that the other team gave you a freebie to make up for it.

“Here, lemme give you a hand.” You couldn’t even react before he was sidled behind you, his chest nearly flush against your shoulder as his hand wrapped around your wrist. Your body is frozen, soaking in the overwhelming closeness.

You can barely decipher the individual cups of beer with his voice low behind your ear as he directs you, “Keep it right….there” He lets go of your arm and you already miss his touch, “and put a little more power into your throw.”

He steps back, giving you space to take a breath and refocus.

You throw it, more mechanical than you would’ve liked, but it – miraculously – goes in.

Immediately you turn around to get his reaction, the praise that you secretly crave from a man you barely know.

He grins down at you, “You’re a natural, bunny.”

And the nickname stuck.

You look over at him, lazily blinking up to meet his fond gaze, “Hm?” You feel all fuzzy inside, overexcited yet pinned down by the unexplainable need to stay close to him.

He smirks down at you, arm subtly lowering to barely touch the back of your head, “What’cha thinkin’ about, sweetheart?” You try to lean into the feeling of his arm, hoping that if you ease into it, he won’t notice. “You had this… faraway look in your eyes for a moment.”

Oh, he noticed. But there’s no way he knows what you were thinking, right? A flash of embarrassment stings hot in your cheeks. You don’t think when you shyly nuzzle your face into his bicep to avoid his curious eyes, “I think I just zoned out or something.”

He hums, “You tired?” You turn your face to look at him, cheek resting against him. God, he smells so good. You never want to move from this spot. “Want me to tuck you in?” His voice coos teasingly, but you soak in the sweetness of it. He can be so soft sometimes.

Scrambled words echo in your mind: But if you go to bed, you’ll leave. You’ll take your arm out from under me and leave me here to think about you, all alone. Why can’t you just – Your thoughts quickly dissipate when he pulls you closer to him, hand at your waist to press your body against his.

Your hand presses delicately against his chest in surprise and you can barely feel the soft thrum of his heartbeat underneath the firmness of his muscles.

You softly shake your head, “Not tired.”

“Sure, baby.”

Baby.

That’s new.

Your thighs involuntarily press together with how good it sounds coming from his lips. Directed at you. Somehow, even with all the pet names he’s given you throughout the span of your friendship, this one hits home.

He says it with the casualness of a boyfriend and tenderness of a lover. You can almost feel him panting it against the crook of your neck as he pushes inside of you, hand clutching yours as his hips roll perfectly against yours.

You don’t even realize your legs are rubbing together like a cricket at dusk until a warm hand wraps around the top of your thigh. He pulls them apart, spreading your legs like you’ve always dreamed he would. Despite the suggestive position, you still whine at the loss of friction, thoughtlessly fighting against the insisting tug of his hand.

He hushes you gently, a soft tone barely easing your frustration. You latch your fingers onto his wrist, attempting to guide him to the spot that you really need him to touch, but he barely budges. His grip on your thigh tightens when his name drips brokenly from your lips.

“J-Jake…”

“Sweetheart, stop.”

“But –”

“Please.” Jake looks down at you with a pained expression, all past chivalry betrayed by the darkness pooled in his eyes.

You look up at him with misty eyes and flushed skin, innocence in the palm of his hand. “I need you.” You bite your lip at your admission, stained red from the wine, and he can’t take his eyes off of you. You pull at him again and this time he lets you. Both of you look down as his hand cups you over your shorts.

“You’re too drunk right now.” The whispered attempt of resistance falls on deaf ears as you arch your hips into his touch. Neither of you notice that the movie ended, leaving you in a silence where only the exchange of breathless pants can be heard.

“Touch me.” You whine, desperate for anything. Desperate just to be accepted by him.

His gaze briefly flicks up from where he’s touching to regard your eagerness with half-lidded eyes. He shakes his head and looks away like he’s looking for answers on the blank wall next to him. “I…shouldn’t.”

You start to panic when you feel his hand pull away. It can’t end like this. You hold onto his wrist when a particularly needy idea pops into your mind. If he doesn’t want to ‘defile’ you, then fine. You’ll do it yourself.

“I…c-could i just rub myself against you?” You berate yourself for sounding so meek, so unsure, but you’ve never done anything like this before, never had to take control of the situation. “Like, if you don’t want to…um, touch me.” He looks at you wordlessly, gorgeous lips parted at your suggestion.

His tongue brushes over his bottom lip, “I– Okay, sure…”

With his permission, you push up against the couch to get up and straddle over him. Clearly, he wasn’t expecting it with how his hands barely hover over your body like he’s unsure whether he wants to pull you closer or shove you off his lap. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah.” He sounds strained, “But just for a little bit, alright?”

“Ok.” You promise though you’re sure that once you get a taste, you’ll never want to stop. You have to make this good for him so he’ll want you back.

You settle against him, body thrumming with anticipation when your clothed cunt meets the prominent hardness under his jeans. So he does want it. His hands clasp onto your waist when you start to move over him, hips experimentally rolling against his.

Jake watches you move over him with a look of deep hunger and awe. It’s endearing how shy you are, even now grinding on his lap. Your movements are clumsy – unpracticed as you desperately try to chase that spark that’ll satisfy the heat buried deep down inside of you.

“That good, baby?”

You nod, mewling quietly as the seam of his jeans drags perfectly against your clit. Pleasure pools in your stomach, nudging you closer and closer to the edge. You hold onto his shoulders as you work yourself over him, panting from your effort. He starts to cant his hips upwards to meet your thrusts, pressing his erection roughly against your core to show you just how much he wants you.

All you can think of is how good it would feel to have him bare against you, skin to skin. When you meet your peak, body hot and trembling as you rub against him, the end never comes. It’s not enough. You’re just left teetering at the top with no drop in sight.

You huff, “Jake, can I – just…please.” You let your hands drop from his shoulders to start working on his belt.

“What is it bunny, what do you need?” He looks so good under you with his wrinkled shirt unbuttoned just so to give you a peak of his collarbone and the newly open belt hanging from the loops in his tight jeans. You undo the button, fingers briefly fumbling as your knuckle brushes against his bulge.

“Just need to feel you.” You paw at the waist of his pants, trying to subtly indicate that you need his help to take them off. But he sits there and smiles sweetly at your frustrated huffs.

“And what about me?” He says in a teasing drawl. He drags you closer to him and cups your face until your lips nearly meet yours. He’s so close that you can make out the light dusting of freckles that grace his nose and cheeks. Amber eyes bore into yours as he whispers, “You’re using my body and haven’t even given me a kiss yet.”

“Oh.” Your gaze drops to his lips, “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, baby.” He leans in, “just kiss me.” Your eyes flutter close when you meet the softness of his lips. You immediately melt into the gentle caress of his hand on your jaw with a sigh as he desperately keeps you close.

Jake groans, drinking in the sweetness of your lips, a taste of pure heaven melting on the tip of his tongue, before hungrily deepening the kiss. He licks against the seam of your mouth, begging you to open yourself up to him. You surrender yourself to him, letting him slide in and taste you from the inside out.

Your hands move up from his shoulders to his soft curls, tugging eagerly in an attempt to hear the soft groan that rumbles in his chest. He nips at your bottom lip, suckling it until it’s pink and tender, wanting to leave a mark so you’ll always think of him. He can’t help but press against you when you whimper for him, grinding eagerly against your center, wishing he was inside of you instead.

“Just the tip.” You mumble it against his lips. He’s too far gone to clearly hear what you said, lost in a thick fog of awe, lust, and…love. At his silence, you pull away to look at him, scared you’re asking for too much. “Jake.” He nods thoughtlessly, chasing your lips, already missing your taste. He almost whines when you pull away from his touch, but quickly comes back to reality when he sees the way you’re nervously looking at him.

He squeezes your waist comfortingly, “Anything you want, bunny.” You smile at the pet name and gratefully peck his lips. He tries to deepen the kiss, hand already pressing against the back of your head, but you cheekily pull away before he gets too far. You stand up, ignoring his objections and clingy touches as you get off of his lap.

You fluidly slip your shirt over your head before carelessly dropping it to the floor behind you. There’s fire in his eyes as he sits back on the couch and watches you reveal the cute bra that cups you so perfectly. You tease the edge of your waistband as you look down at him, “Off, please.” You gesture at his jeans. He follows your directions, quickly shimmying his pants off, eyes on you the whole time.

You follow him, tugging your shorts off to show him the matching panties. You squeak when warm hands abruptly pull you to the couch, eagerly wandering over your waist and hips as he buries his face against your neck.

“Can’t help it, baby,” His touch drifts up to cup the underside of your tits, trailing carefully over the curve to memorize the shape of you. “You’re just so fucking pretty.” He groans hot and heavy against your neck as he squeezes your softness.

You’re back on top of him, naked thighs draped over his, skin against skin, and now, you can feel all of him. He’s pressed so deliciously against your core, pulsing with pure desire and heat. The only thing separating the two of you is fading self-control and a pair of thin panties.

His mustache tickles against your throat as his lips drift over your pulse point. He presses heady kisses against the edge of your jaw, gauging where your most tender spots are.

“Oh–!” Your thighs clench around him when he touches a particularly delicate area near your ear. He gently nips at the spot, holding you tighter when you moan at the feeling.

Jake lets out a broken groan when you reach between your bodies and take him into your hand. He tries to continue giving your body loving attention with his lips, but his kisses get messy, dragging lazily over your shoulder and collarbone, with how distracted he is by your touch. He has to pull away for a breather and hold himself back from thrusting into your fist when you squeeze him teasingly at the base.

“Bunny…” You both look down and watch as your smaller hand slowly strokes him. His cock is flush with need, leaking so prettily as you try your hardest to make it good for him. You slip your other hand under his shirt, running your fingers against his coarse happy trail to his rippling muscles. The couch groans next to you as he harshly grips the arm, barely holding himself back with white knuckles. “Oh, f-fuck.” His body stiffens under you as you brush your thumb against the sensitive underside of the tip.

You tenderly massage the spot, watching in awe as he continues to spill over your fingers, making a mess that drips onto your inner thighs and the edge of his shirt. He groans at the sight, his cock throbbing desperately in your hold.

As beads of white paint your fingers, your mouth waters just thinking about how he tastes. You feel ravenous to see him cum, to watch how easily you can ruin him. “H-hold on, cariño. Give me a second.” Jake chokes out. His hips stutter under you before he pulls your hand away.

"Whyy." You whine, pouting up at him with starry eyes. You reach for him again with the hand he isn’t holding onto, brushing your fingers against his sensitive cock. He shudders for you with a broken groan.

“I'm close-- just – stop for a moment –” Both hands are pinned to your side as Jake’s chest heaves under his shirt. He rests his head back against the couch, eyes closed as he struggles to hold himself back.

“But…I want you to.”

“I know, baby,” He lifts his head, dark eyes boring into yours, and pulls your hands behind you. You squirm in his lap, back arching at the position, suddenly remembering your own desperation. It feels good to be bound by his hands, to let him do whatever he wants to your body. “But I don’t wanna finish if it isn’t in you.”

Your face heats in embarrassment. “Oh.”

Jake picks up on your sudden shyness immediately.

“You like that, don’t you, bunny?” He smirks, “The thought of me filling you up, then dripping out of you?”

You bite your lip, “A little bit.”

“A little, hm?” He ponders, “Well why don’t we try it out and see.” Your thighs clench around him at the idea.

“Ok.”

“Sit up, let me see how wet you are.” He helps you raise yourself on your knees so you’re hovering over his lap. Letting go of your wrists, he drags his thumb against your clothed cunt; The fabric has a darkened splotch along your opening, teasing him with evidence of your lust. “Aw, sweetheart, you’re soaked…” He nudges your panties to the side, slipping his fingers against your wet opening. “Gonna ruin these pretty little panties, hm?” You nod wordlessly, hips desperately pushing against his touch.

He gently slides against your dripping entrance, making a mess of your cunt with teasing circling motions. Wet, decadent sounds fill the limited space between you as his fingers prod ever so slightly against the spot where you need him most. A helpless sound is pushed out of you when he finally eases two fingers inside of you.

“Is that good, bunny?” He coos as he slowly fucks his fingers into you. It’s only his fingers, but he’s already filling you up so deliciously. His dark eyes are hungrily locked on how he fills you up over and over again, slick dripping down his knuckles and over his palm. “Hm?”

You nod again, brain foggy with pleasure. “Yes, J–” You can barely get a word out when he curls his fingers up, pressing so sweetly and deep against the sensitive walls of your cunt. You have to stop yourself from wrapping your legs around his wrist, it feels so good. “Uh–!” You almost fall over and have to hold onto his shoulders for support as he begins to speed up.

“That’s it, baby…” Your grip on his shoulders tightens as he rapidly presses against your g-spot. You’re already hurdling towards the edge and he can feel it with how you start to clench around his fingers. “Make a mess of my hand..” Within a handful of thrusts, you’re gasping out with pleasure, your thighs shaking over him. He takes his hand away and holds you against him to keep you sitting upright as your body is overtaken with euphoria. You pant against his shoulder, trying to gather your senses.

You can feel him under you, hard and wanting, throbbing as you whimper and arch against him, letting the pleasure work through your body. Even when you’re barely coming down from an orgasm, you’re still longing to be filled with something more. But he ignores his own needs, instead focusing on you, softly pecking the top of your head and rubbing comforting circles against your arms.

You lift your head from his chest to look at him, taking in his flushed cheeks and dark eyes. Jake stares right back, unabashedly, in awe. “You’re so good to me, bunny.” You shiver at the praise. At the comfort. You shyly divert your eyes to stare at the marks you’ve left on his shoulders.

“Only for you, Jake.” You don’t see it, but his lips lift into a small smile at your words.

His hands drift down from your arms to hold you by the waist. “Only for me.” He echos, solidifying the statement.

You gasp when he suddenly presses you down against his cock. Looking back up at him, he meets your wide eyes with a mischievous grin, hips rolling teasingly against yours. “And I’m all yours.” You position yourself over him all while keeping eye contact, wanting to drink in every microexpression on his face.

“Yes.” You both sigh as he barely brushes against your wet opening. He takes a deep breath, clutching your hips as you begin your descent.

Your body slowly manages to swallow the first inch of him. And – oh – it’s so much better than you expected. He stretches you so fully, even barely inside of you, filling you exactly how you need him to.

You let out a strained whimper from the back of your throat as you slowly lower yourself onto his lap. You whine as your body desperately clenches and stretches to accommodate him inside of you. His hold on your hips tightens as your thighs meet his, now fully impaled by his hard cock.

“I thought it was ‘just the tip’.” Jake tries to tease, his deep voice gravelly with lust, but it comes out as more of a groan than a taunt.

You slowly shake your head, body trembling as you get used to the feeling of him inside of you.

“You said you’re all mine, daddy.” The words practically melt from your lips, lethargic with heat. It catches him off guard. You moan, hips slowly moving over him to feel him deeper inside. “M-mine,” You repeat with a pant, so lost in desperation that you don’t even notice the way he’s looking at you, frozen in place.

“I-I did say that, didn’t I?” He doesn’t know what else to say, brain overheating from your ministrations. You’ve never called him a pet name before, let alone used the word ‘daddy’ anywhere near him. You’ve always been a shy little bunny around him, always preciously out of reach, a tease to fantasize about, but now you’re wrapped around him, moaning beautifully destructive words.

What really surprises him is the way he’s eagerly throbbing inside of you from that word. Desperate thoughts float in his mind: She wants me to take care of her, she needs me.

“Fuck me.” He groans to himself, willing his body to hold back from cumming inside of you right then and there.

“P-please.” You beg with a broken voice, thinking he’s talking to you. Jake just nods understandingly and holds you closer with an arm wrapped around your torso, wanting to feel your whole body against his. He starts off slow, pressing up into your kneeling body with measured thrusts as he dots kisses along your neck and shoulders. You sigh something wistful before meeting his movements, eagerly lifting your hips against him.

“God, bunny, you feel so good.” He can't help it, you’re all-encompassing like this, with your pretty little sighs and panted breaths, it’s everything he’s ever wanted, so he starts to speed up, projecting his desperation into his actions. Your back arches at the change of pace as he pumps into you, and it only makes him feel deeper. “So tight around me.” He pushes against your front wall on every thrust and you swear it makes you see stars.

Your clit inevitably rubs against him as your bodies move with each other and it takes your pleasure to another level. You’re sure the sounds you’re making verge on embarrassing, but he seems to eat them up anyway. “Ah, right there--! Jake –”

“No, bunny,” He grits out, “It’s daddy.”

You whimper, “Daddy – ” He feels you flutter deliciously around him as your head begins to lull backward. He groans as your cunt sucks him deep inside, desperately milking his cock as you’re seized by ecstasy.

“Fucking take it, sweetheart.”

“I-I think m’gonna…” Your eyes roll back before you can finish your sentence and white fills your vision. You let out a keening sound as you gush over him, thighs clenched around his as your second high moves through you.

His eyes squeeze shut as he gives in and starts fucking you at a punishing pace. Your mouth drops open around an empty moan. You can only hold onto him as he takes what he wants from your body, intensifying your orgasm with sloppy thrusts. With a few more upward pushes, he lets out a breathy grunt and finishes inside of you, painting your walls with his warmth.

You both stay in this position for a little longer.

You can feel Jake’s heart beat rapidly against your chest as you cuddle against him. He’s still recovering from the onslaught of sensations and emotions. Both of you are sticky with sweat and slick, but neither of you care. His cock is still inside of you, keeping his cum locked inside as you dutifully warm him with your cunt.

“Such a pretty girl…” He croons, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. He looks down at you with such sincerity in his eyes, that it’s almost overwhelming. You bite your lip nervously at the compliment and attempt to look away, but before you can, he’s tilting your face up with the light touch of a finger, “Really? You’re gonna act all shy with my cock still in you?”

His words only make you squirm on top of him. He nearly chokes at the accidental stimulation.

“You can’t just say stuff like that.” Your voice is small and cute.

“Then how am I supposed to fluster my girl?”

Your eyes widen. His girl?

“Your girl?”

“My girl.” He hums with a small smile before placing a soft kiss on your lips.

#jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley smut #moon knight #cw: dubcon #cw: dub-con #oscar issac fanfiction

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bucknastysbabe · 4 months

Note

Babes, I was thinking, dom! Bucky and reader where his dumb ass doesn’t give her aftercare and then she’s upset. Later, his ass brings it around and makes her feel better. I go feral for aftercare in fics because I’m secretly a little bitch and need reassurance. The raunchier the smut the better. I’m a whore. Love you, babes 😚

HI BUCKYBUDDY MWAH MWAH LUV U💋💋Less get intewww it! I haven’t written a dom buck in ages and then angst and fluffy fluff after??? *chefs kiss* As always thanks for the request and I hope you enjoy this, imma put my whole freak nasty abilities into the raunchy, then my soft baby into the fluff. I too need some reassurance bc I’m actually a huge baby🤣

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Dom!Bucky barnes, Dom/sub, Bucky is an idiot, pnv!sex, bad bdsm etiquette, sub drop, hurt/comfort, big dick bb, fluff n smut n angst, dirty talk, oral (m!receiving), safe words, anxiety/negative self talk/depression

Your lover was in a mood, not necessarily angry but aggravated. He initiated the little playtime scene, coming home and growling, “Can’t catch a fucking break. Need my little girl to help me let off some steam.” His broody eyes roved over your reclined form, clad in skimpy shorts and a little tank top.

You couldn’t deny your sexy, fucking gorgeous man. A rough fuck would be good for him, and nothing was better than getting your pussy goddamn murdered by his cock. You instantly acquiesced, reminding baby of your safe words.

No time was wasted, Buck hauled you to bedroom, landed a sharp smack on your ass along the way. Clothes shredded, some haphazardly thrown, boots flung so hard the lamp rattled as he kneeled on the bed. You stared with wide eyes, unsure of what next considering how fast the situation was moving along.

“Get it wet baby, you know what to do, staring at me like some fuckin’ virgin,” the brunette snarked.

Crawling forward— you gripped his girth, lapping and enveloping the tip. Buck’s vibranium hand wound itself in your ponytail, yanking with a snarl, “Deeper baby, c’mon now.” He was lucky you had a lack of a gag reflex, tucking your lips and swallowing him down. He groaned in ecstasy, head falling back as he cursed, “Good little slutty girl, that’s it.”

You breathed through your nose as he murmured, “Gonna fuck that tight throat of yours.” Your lids fluttered at the feeling, lips stretched tight around his thick cock, throat full, the salty taste of pre-cum wetting your tongue.

His heavy balls slapped your chin as you gripped strong thighs, your lover grunting and keeping your head still with that metal hand, fucking ruthlessly. Tears sprung to your eyes, pussy throbbing and leaking. Bucky groaned again, pulling you off his dick, wet and messy.

All you could do was gasp and whimper, drool falling from your swollen lips. He smiled darkly, caressing your reddened face with big hands. Bucky cooed, “You’re so damn pretty.” He seized your lips, wet smacks filling the quiet room. You instinctively moved to your back, legs spread for him.

Buck tutted between kisses, “Nuh-uh, on your belly.” You whimpered sadly as he gave one more kiss, those huge hands of his flipping your frame over, pulling your hips up in a quick jerk. He palmed a breast roughly, pulling at your stiff bud, so sensitive you couldn’t help but mewl.

Another hand thumbed your swollen cunt, laughing, “So wet for me. Sweet pretty slut, get your mouth around some cock and you’re wetting the sheets.” He thumbed your clit with a slick thumb, grinning sharply at the whine of his name. You warbled, “C’mon baby, fuck me, I helped you out.”

A yank of your ponytail brought his lips close to you, nipping at your earlobe, muscled body pressed to you. Bucky rumbled, “Can you be patient sweetie? I asked if you’d help me let off some steam and here you are making demands like an entitled bitch.”

He pinched your clit, forcing a yowl out your lips. Your boyfriend nestled his cock against your swollen folds, rutting playfully slow. Bucky asked, false sweetness lacing his tone, “You gonna’ shut your mouth and let me do my thing?”

Yank. Nip. Slap.

“Y-yessir, Bucky, I’ll be good now, m’sorry.”

“Good girl.”

He shoved his cock in with no preamble, filling your pussy to the brim with a filthy squelch. Bucky’s hands faltered at your hips, breath stuttered and harsh, he grunted, “Fucking hell, god your pussy— hah, fucking tight.” He took a moment to steady his knees, effectively caging your own in.

“Arch,” he commanded. You did so, pressing your lower body to the bed, whining, “S’big.” He patted your ass and claimed cockily, “I know, slutty hole like yours can take it.” More tears leaked, he was on one today. You couldn’t deny the sweet pleasure and the mean words, made you throb that much harder.

His hands possessively splayed up your back, clasping them upon your shaking shoulder. The force of his thrust shoved you forward into the mattress with a muffled cry. Bucky’s hips clapped against your ass, brutally fucking you open. All you could do was drool and keen his name and other nonsense.

Goosebumps rose on your skin, pussy weeping and convulsing around Bucky’s huge cock. It dragged against your ridged insides, nudged your sweet spot, battered your cervix. Nothing was spared when your lover filled you up, feeling like he was in your belly. The soldier was grunting and moaning deeply, smacking a vibranium hand across your ass. He sped up his movements, beginning to pant. Bucky asked, “Good little slut, always such a good hole for me.”

You babbled, “Yes, yes, always, just for you!”

He rewarded you with a hand to your engorged clit, working it the way that made your legs shake— like they weren’t already jello. Bucky hauled you up with his free hand, using his strength to keep your overstimulated body aloft.

“Y’gonna cream on my big cock doll? I can feel ya’ squeezing me. Pussy’s jus’ begging for me to fill it up. Fucking hungry for it, you’re such a nympho for me.”

You were crying and shaking, nerves alight, pussy unbearably sensitive. You sobbed his name over and over, skin too hot and your clit shooting fire up into your belly. Buck cried out your name when you stiffened head to toe, core clamping down on him, gushing slick all over his still pumping dick.

You mewled and whimpered, falling limp, weak hands still gripping the sheets. Bucky managed longer, overstimulating your abused pussy. He didn’t last as far as you feared, leaning over your frame to mouth at the nape of your neck as he pumped you full of cum. So much cum it flooded your channel, spilling out and onto the bed.

Bucky had intense orgasms courtesy of the serum. He’d inhale sharply, shuddering as his overfull balls emptied for what felt like years. He leaned back up and pulled out with a soft noise, watching your ruined cunt with a smirk.

He got up to get a towel to wipe his dick off, coming back to get you clean. Bucky was pulling on his jeans now. You turned to ask, voice still slurred from your fuzzy brain, “Where’ya going Buck?”

He ran a hand through his shaggy hair and replied, “Gotta meet up with Sam, won’t be longer than an hour. I’ll be back, why don’t you grab a hot bath, I’ll bring back something to eat for you?”

A dreadful feeling consumed you. Bucky was busy, you didn’t need to whine for him to stay around. You rasped, “Can you get me a water bottle?” He nodded and padded off, returning with the cool water, handing it over with a kiss to your forehead. You struggled with words, scared to start bawling. Bucky always took care of you after an intense session. The mean ones.

He laced up his boots and slung on a jacket, blue eyes turning back as he stated, “Won’t be long I promise, ‘kay babydoll? Text me if you need anything.” You nodded while sipping the water, watching his familiar walk leave the room.

You flopped back onto the rumpled bed, body and cunt sore from the rough play. Emotions began to well up out of nowhere— embarrassment, loneliness, sadness. What if Bucky really meant all that he said?

Just a hole for him to fuck. Easy slut for easy access. You stifled a sob and failed. Everything felt like shit. You shivered from the intense anxiety, too struck to do anything but get under the mussed covers, mind whirling to all the worst places.

God. What if he told Sam about how wanton and loud you were, baring your neck at the slightest snap of Bucky’s fingers. You sobbed some more, grabbing a pillow to hold. It smelled like him, comforting, then sickening.

Managing to crawl out of bed you walked on jelly legs to the large bathtub, sprinkling the lavender epsom salt. Something to abate the cold. You ended up sobbing more and shaking in the tub. The need to call Bucky was heightening, but your brain whispered, “He’s busy, you’d be bothering him, just fuck off.”

Eventually the water got cold and you stepped out, body less achy. Drying off and slipping on this fleece hoodie thing your friend gifted you felt somewhat comforting. You didn’t want to get back in the ruined bed.

Instead the couch and a fluffy blanket would do. The water bottle and phone instinctively came with you. You blankly stared out the window, petting Alpine, still fucking shedding tears. The fluffy white cat seemed to sense your bad mood, curling up on your belly, purring.

Your phone sat on the table, annoyingly catching your interest. With an irritated huff you finally grabbed it. There was missed calls from Bucky, a couple of texts from him too. Even Sam had sent something.

Sliding open the phone you read the texts.

“At the Thai place, the usual?”

“You’re probably sleeping but I got Pad See Ew anyways.”

“You okay doll?”

“Hello?”

Then there was three missed calls. You made to dial back, spirits lifted a bit. The sound of the door busting open startled you. Alpine jumped, skittering off. A bewildered Bucky was making a beeline toward you, thick brows pulled together. The takeout bag was left on the ground. He grabbed you up and placed you onto his lap, placing fervent smooches all over your face.

The show of affection made you bawl again. Bucky’s warm flesh hand rubbed circles on your back. He murmured gently, “Babydoll, m’so sorry, I should’ve just cancelled the plans. Sam told me to go home and pull my head out my ass when I wouldn’t stop checking my phone.”

He looked so worried, babbling apologies, pulling you even closer into his frame. You sniffled, “I don’t know what happened, usually you stick around, then I got all s-sad.” Swallowing heavily you continued, “M’not just some whore to you am I? Everything’s s-so-so mixed uh-up. In my head.”

Bucky sighed, “Oh my love, no, no, you’re everything to me. I didnt communicate, forgot about aftercare— sweetheart I can’t live without you. Breaking my heart baby. Can’t believe I just left my doll all alone like that.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist, tucking your face into his scruffy neck, letting out the rest of your emotions. Bucky cooed and coddled you, planting kisses on the crown of your head. He murmured, “Let it out, you still got some dinner and cuddles.”

Your breathing evened out enough to reply with a teary smile, “Okay, yeah, I am hungry.” Bucky somehow carried you around like a koala while he fed you the noodles, then ice cream, and more water. You felt better by the second, growing sleepy in his big arms.

“I love you baby doll, don’t ever think I don’t,” he swore.

“I love you too. So much. But we need to sleep in the guest room.”

The pair of you chuckled, sharing sweet kisses as the big softie carried you to the direction of the other bed. He gently laid you down, more lovey nonsense and kisses adorning the movement. Bucky climbed under the covers, pulling your body close to his. You fell asleep feeling warm and loved.

He might be a bit of a dumbass, but god if he didn’t make up for it.

#bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #dom bucky barnes #read the tags :)#answered ask

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nexusnyx · 1 year

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keep close | part III

Joel Miller x F!Reader [8.3k] summary: Joel was never a man of religion—thinking about the enormity of everything was not for him, but he understood the concept. Devotion. An other-worldly comfort in something, or a place. Joel had never, on the other hand, experienced religion. As he lifts his touch from your hands to explore the rest of your body, Joel is blessed, and this is holy. The air around him sizzles with everything existing between you two. 📝 This is the final part of this little story, and I hope it meets the expectations. If you enjoy it, reblogs and comments make all the difference. warnings⚠️ mature content—explicit depictions of sex, so minors dni. | 🏷️ soft!joel (he is, deep, deep inside, okay?), bathing together, slow undressing, deep talks, first time, dirty talk, begging, fingering, guided orgasm (yes, Joel Miller does walk you through it), penetration (p in v).

← part two | masterlist

Joel wished he felt comfortable in his skin.

He remembers there was a time when he did. He used to have a lighter step, lighter touch, lighter eyes.

All his edges feel sharp now, even to him—silver like steel, or the hair that glinted at him from every reflection as a reminder of why, and up until some time ago, he'd kept up a good shell. An exoskeleton of great thickness that kept him going with minimum blows to the skin.

Until a while ago, he had no reason to try being anything other than this.

Being this kept him alive, but—it would also keep him away. From Ellie. From you.

He wanted to be close to you. Closer than he admitted to himself for a long time.

As close as physics would allow, and even then, it wouldn't be enough.

He thinks about all that as he puts Ellie to bed.

Not that he calls it that. Or, god forbid, you did.

Ellie claims to be grown enough to live all on her own if it came to be, and yet, she somehow always ended up 'awakening' sometime in the night. Joel lost count of how many late-night conversations with you had been interrupted by that sight: her short, teenage frame being outlined in the darkness standing stiff and awkward, right before she blurted, "I keep hearing... you know."

Their noises.

Ellie's nightmares were about their noises. One day, you simply got up, took a deep breath, and said, "C'mon, let's go back to bed, I think you need just need some company. We can talk, if you want. Or not.."

No one — not you, not Joel — called it 'putting her to bed' because Ellie was grown, and 'far from a kid' already, as she'd put it. She didn't need some grown person talking to her until she falls asleep. It's just nice, she said. It's just soothing, because according to Ellie, they — the grown-ups — have a tendency of forgetting the 'younger folk need some stimulating conversation too, man'.

How could someone not love this kid?

Joel watches her sleeping body for a few moments. He places and tucks the blankets around her to keep her warm, and closes the door on his way out.

He hated to admit how magnetic she was at the start. It was so difficult to accept the sharp wit and horrible jokes were simply her. A part of her, born embedded in her genes just like a lack of patience, or straight hair.

When Joel opens the door to the bathroom, he's greeted by steam.

The whole place is still covered in it despite the hour of dinner.

He sees you sitting in front of the bathtub, and proudly announces. "Miss I don't need a lullaby today asked me to tell her a story," his eyes feel yours on him as he takes off his jacket.

He hears the scoff. "She's been asking me that all week," you answer with a tone that says you're behind, old man, "And she even threw the 'make them good stories, too—I don't want any boring, pg-13 rated shit.'"

"The army teaches shitty manners," he takes off the flannel jacket too and starts unlacing his boots. "She woke me up with a wet finger in my ear once. D'you know how long it's fuckin' been since someone did that? Decades. It's been literal decades."

"I think you meant to say the army doesn't teach them any manners," you say. "And hey—at least that's kind. You, on the other hand—"

"Oh, here we go," he laughs.

"—you decide to wake people by saying their name. Announcing their name, in that deep, Odin-inspired vibrato that already gives them a heart attack, and then you just," you blow raspberries in the air. "Fuck off."

He laughs. Tries his best to keep the volume low because he knows better, but laughing and kicking off his boots feels amazing.

None of you have showered since the attack.

A week was a gross amount of time to spend without a washing rag and hot water rubbing every inch of your skin, but the poor unfortunate truth of living in an apocalyptical world remained almost natural now—it was not weird to happen. Just gross.

Cleaning yourselves to the best of your lonesome abilities when there are bruises littering almost every member of your body is also a challenging task.

He's done poorly in his, and he wished bashfulness still existed somewhere in his bones for him to feel sorry about it. Instead, Joel let his body fall back with only a layer or two of clothes left in him and laid on his back on the floor.

He says, "I can't believe I'm gonna shower," fully expecting some witty remark back.

A joke. A jab. Anything other than— "Joel."

A soft, single whisper. Joel's head whips in your direction, and he almost gets up in an electric shock—your curled-up position awakens his instincts of 'cradle, cover, protect'.

Scared. Had he made a mistake? Had he jumped the gun and done something too fast? Something wrong?

Before he can jump to any conclusions, you add. "I'm gonna say this in a single breath 'cause I'm feeling oddly stupid about it and the rational, intelligent parts of my brain that know this means absolutely nothing can't find a single argument back for the question then why the hell do I still feel like every inch of my skin is a part of my insides..." you breathe in deep, and lift your head, tilting your chin high. Your eyes make sure to meet his. "I—," you choke on it once, and Joel witnesses as the blush rises from your neck, painting like watercolor its way up your skin. "I never... did anything. Nothing that went beyond sad, pathetic displays of.. what I can only call 'making out'," you laugh, humorless. "God, I feel like a fucking idiot."

"You're not," he affirms. He might be failing faintish, and his body may be running hotter than the insides of a volcano, but he'll be fine. "You tell me anythin' you wanna tell me, and I'll listen. And if you want to—"

"Don't," you interrupt him. "Don't take it back," your eyes shine at him. Don't take back your offer because it would hurt. It would kill me. "Please."

Joel would do anything you asked. "I won't."

You smile. "Thank you," you say softly. After another deep breath, you go on. "I wanted to tell because... It's only fair you know. Considering—" you swallow visibly around the word, and his body mimics the action as if you and he are your own hive of two, "I've thought about this. A lot, Joel."

A lot, Joel.

"Jesus Christ," he exhales, feeling the air punched out of his chest. He looks away from the earnestness on your face.

"And whether it's because a first impression always stays or not, I don't know, but I'm gonna remember."

And so would he.

Joel gets up from the form, his body now released from the imaginary chains that kept him bound to his place as you said your peace, and makes his way up the step to where the bathtub is and you're sitting on the floor.

It hits him that he's kissed you, and you've kissed back, and Joel's free to do it again.

The thought is what makes him sit right back you, pulling you in direction of his chest. You go easily, and it melts him more than the prospect of hot water on his body sometime soon.

"I thought you'd be happy I opened my mouth instead of stewing on stuff and keepin' it to myself and, y'know," he saw above your shoulders the way your hands did movements all over the place, and he laughed on your neck. "Didn't think you'd be this cuddly, though."

Joel rubs the bottom of his face on your skin just for that comment, enjoying feeling you squirm. "You opening your mouth is never a problem," he bites back with amusement.

"Callin' me blabbermouth?"

"Callin' you straight spoken," he corrects. "Precise."

"Awn, shucks—thanks, man," the sarcasm in your voice makes him groan. He's surrounded by smartasses, and it pains him. The laughter is nice, though; Joel guesses there are worst things than spending winter locked in a mountain cabin with someone who makes him laugh at the end of the world.

Sure, he is bruised and so many things are not right with humankind, but—not here.

He won't think about that now.

It's not his weight, just for these moments.

When you're done laughing, your body sags inside his hold, melting like snow under the Sun. He drinks it all in. "I'm aware this will be good for wounds 'n all, but I hate that I know it's gonna hurt so much the first couple of minutes that it makes me want to postpone it. What's another week without a proper shower, right?"

"Hell."

"Yeah, but so will be submersing our bodies in this," you point at the tub.

"At least it's together?" Joel offers.

Your head resting on his chest tilts up until you can look at him properly, and he's always thankful for the opportunity of seeing you smile. "That was cheesy," you whisper.

Once more, Joel sighs. He's smiling, but—it sounded so damn cute. Cheesy, accused between the lips that formed that teasing smirk, that mouth that—

Joel hates missing things.

He writes down in his mind that he will never miss your mouth; he'll always have it. If he wants it, he'll take it, and so he does.

Your face is angled, waiting for a hand of his to cup it and guide it toward his lips.

Kissing you is better than most things Joel's mind still clung to as the ones worth living for.

His personal favorite, the sun hitting skin for the first time after a long winter—it felt like that, but better.

He felt a tingle in his spine when you melted on him, prompting him to kiss harder—Joel starts moving his lips on yours and is granted with you following his lead like in the kitchen; you open up so well for him. You follow the rhythm of his tongue, and it makes it feel easy when he knows that's far from the truth.

When he pulls back, Joel thinks about what you said.

I never did anything.

Joel has to take deep breaths. You open your eyes after another heartbeat, and he's burdened with the silly need to kiss your entire face, so he does.

First the lips again. Then the cheeks, and the nose next, and you start giggling when he moves to your forehead, whispering, "tickles, Joel," but he doesn't care. There are the temples, and finally the chin, and—he exhales, smiling content at himself.

He looks ahead to the tub. It's a soaking type, made of dark wood he's almost sure comes from the forest surrounding them right now. "You think we'll fit in there?" he asks.

He feels your head moving to look, too. "It's made to fit two adults, I think."

"Ellie said it was the best bath she's had since she left the school," he shares.

Your hum of approval makes him realize just how hard this task is going to be—pun not intended but well applied. "She really needed one."

"We all do," he scoffs. Reluctantly, Joel lets go of your body to get up and finish undressing. He sees the two wood buckets you used to heat up water for Ellie's bath are full again, so he asks. "You heated up more water? Why?"

You pierce him with a are you kidding me, look. "Joel."

"Yes?"

"We need a wash, rinse, and repeat. I don't know about you, but I feel gross. Disgusting. Crusty—"

"Okay, okay," he interrupts, bursting into laughter. "I got you. You can stop tryna seduce me," he says while standing up.

Even though there's steam, he knows your blush is from him. For him. "Wasn't trying to," you argue with no heat. Smiling.

Joel is so fucked. "Really? All that sweet-talking about how much you stink had no goal?"

Your response is only a roll of the eyes, and Joel starts unbuttoning his shirt. "Hmm. Could've sworn it got me here showering with ya."

"You offered," you laugh, and then—your gaze lifts, sees what Joel is doing, and lowers, twice more bashful than before. "There was no seducing involved."

He groans in response. "Nope. 'm pretty sure your mouth was on mine. That's seducing," he states. "Hey," he calls. Your eyes find his. "You can look, 'yknow? 's nothing you won't be seein' in a second." Joel would say 'it's nothing special' but he knows you well enough. You'd hate hearing it, you'd fight him on it, so he thinks on his words. "If you want to," he adds, because fucking hell.

You do look up.

The second he feels your gaze on him, Joel's lifetime insecurities reappear from the shadows, birthing all over again like a flair under his skin.

He's okay. 5"11' of scars covering inner demons always on a battlefield, veins of whiskey, and a chest that he swore up and down would die empty.

It feels hot now. Occupied.

The shirt comes off, then the white tank top that's more a rag than a piece of clothing by now, and he only musters enough courage to look at you again as he unbuckles his belt.

The permission didn't prepare him to see you staring.

Gazing, checking him out with eyes as thirsty and obvious as a starving person being presented with a plate of their favorite food.

Joel swallows thickly around the knot that forms in his throat.

He wants to say something, but instead, he just undresses.

He wouldn't know what to say.

Joel didn't want things for two decades. He wants so much now that he feels like his body could vibrate at a frequency that would break glass.

His pants fall on the floor, and Joel stands there only in his underwear.

You swallow visibly, too. Then you look up into his eyes and say, "Permission to share a weird thought?"

That got his curiosity. You two loved sharing weird thoughts — no judgment, that was the rule — and he sees you nodding.

You start undoing your clothes as well. "You know that feeling of being so comfortable around a person 'cause they make you feel like you can be yourself?"

"Yeah."

"I always had that with you," you say. Joel removes his underwear with a single motion and tries to push down the feeling of hotness climbing up his chest. "And... I don't know if it's post-apocalyptical shit or not, but, d'you feel like you have a hunger that could never be fulfilled, ever again?"

Joel sits back down while he waits. "I do," he answers. "About everything, right?"

"Yes!" your exclamation is earnest. You get it. "I'll never satisfy any of it," you conclude. "That same feeling—that despair that a decadent world creates in you... it made me look at you and think 'I wanna bury myself in him' because—it brought me comfort? I hope that's not a too weird thought, I don't wanna freak you out or anything, but..." you shrug. He sees you trying to gather the words, and waits. "I just always had this.... feeling, this thing where I looked at you, and you're so broad, and tall, and strong," you shiver, and Joel feels his body twitching in response, "I wanted to get under your skin. Just... make myself all cozy inside you. That's probably some weird, mother-issue kind of thing, but."

It makes him laugh.

Joel looks down at himself for a second because taking in what you said and watching more of your skin become visible made his throat dry and his hands itch. "Trust me," he says. "You're under my skin."

Despite already being naked, Joel feels he peeled off another layer just with those words.

"You ready to go in?" He doesn't check for how you took the confession. He'd never said anything close to it that if he thought about it too long or too hard, something inside him would burst. "It's gonna hurt."

It takes a second for you to answer, and he's already up and dipping his legs inside when you do. "Good to know."

Nothing more than a soft whisper, and it heats up his insides better than the water.

Joel hisses in pain as his body submerges. While he alone occupies a good portion of the tub, you'll fit. A tight fit. Another knot forms in his throat.

There's the faint sound of clothing pieces hitting the floor and when he looks to the side, you're like he is—naked.

Vulnerable.

Just like him, you do it in one go, submerging your body despite the pain of the still-throbbing wounds. Your face scrunches in pain, which is the only reason he can focus on something else other than your legs touching his underwater.

The rag used for bathing is hung on the tub—clean, dry, washed.

He picks it up as you throw some water on your shoulders, and thinks about how much of you he'd like to know still.

So he asks. "Can I start?" He'd never be able to focus on something else with your hands on his body—washcloth separating the touch or not.

"You—you're actually gonna—uhm. Bathe me?"

"That's the idea, yeah. Unless you don't want me—"

"I do!" you interrupt. "I just—I thought you were only gonna clean my wounds."

There's not much space to move around now that you two are sitting, but he can move.

"No," Joel dips the cloth in the water and grabs the soap bar outside the tub. "Can you turn around for me?" He needs to find his guts first. If you're facing him, Joel will just gaze. Desire. Distract himself. "Wanna start with your back."

"'kay."

When you turn, Joel's mind goes blank.

Here he is, sharing a tub with the one person who's made him feel more human than anything else, and all he can do is long for.

His worries as he walked to the bathroom involved discomfort or tension. There's none to be found, even in the silence.

Joel sees your hair all tied up and wished he was the one to do it. "Aren't you gonna wash your hair?" he asks, and his hands start to work.

"One thing at a time, don't you think?" you chuckle. "If I was gonna do that I'd have to heat up another bath."

"Just for the hair?"

"Just for the hair. Ask El, doing this shit nowadays is a nuisance."

"I'll take your word for it," he's careful with his hands. There aren't many open wounds on your body, only splashes of purple, green, yellow, and blue. A Monet painting. "Please tell me if I hurt you."

There's a moment of silence before you answer, "You couldn't." It's the softest he's ever heard your voice, and he hears the confidence and truth in it. You don't believe he could hurt you. You're a hundred percent right, of course, but hearing it still soothes him. "But I will," you add, turning your face around to give him a smile.

Instead of returning it, Joel leans forward and kisses the lips that continue to do it—every time you confess thoughts and feelings buried in you, Joel feels something stirring inside. Being born, maybe. Growing.

You lean back to the kiss, and suddenly, your back is touching his chest. Joel makes sure to keep his hips propped against the bathtub so this is about what he said more than what he wants, but this is now his favorite position.

When you pull back, Joel feels himself smiling.

Opening his eyes, he finds you staring.

"It'll hurt when I wash that knife wound," he remembers.

Your eyebrows pierce together, recalling the gash you have on your left side. "It'd hurt more if it were days ago?"

It's offered like leverage. He takes it. "Brave one," he states. So much braver and smarter than he'll ever be—someone who still has the courage to feel what she feels and say it.

Joel hopes it'll rub off on him.

"You're the brave one," you counter. "You know... I think you never told me about what you did before all this."

He frowns. "No?"

You shake your head. Joel adds more soap to the cloth and starts washing your arms, "I used to work construction."

"Did you like it?" your body is loose in his hold. Joel holds up one of your hands and washes it slowly, back and forth, like he'll do to every part of you.

"I did. I think there's something to be said about building a home. About building good structures, y'know?"

As he cleans your body and wounds, the questions keep on coming, and he keeps on delivering answers.

For your arms, you ask about his work, and who he worked with. Joel takes note of every scar you have on your body, curious as to whether they came before or after the outbreak.

When he moves to your back and chest, you ask him about what he used to enjoy. He talks about it—trips with his brother, barbecues with friends and family, a nice and peaceful week at a distant country somewhere where he barely speaks the language, but he can get to know different cultures and people.

Joel stops when he sees the tattoo of a date under your right boob, trying his hardest to ignore the desire to squeeze what's in front of him.

Not the time. Bathe first, feel it later.

"Whose birthday is it?" he asks, putting the tip of his finger on it.

You stay silent, so he keeps on moving. He slides his hand underwater to your leg, and palming its way down your thigh and calf, he grabs hold of your foot; he's analyzing for any wounds but finds none, so he starts washing your legs.

When the answer comes, Joel's hand stops for a moment.

"It was—," your choked-up voice pulls his eyes to your face, and the sorrow he finds there makes him ache. "Oh, god."

A choked-up laughter. No humor to it, and a thousand ghosts on your face tell him he's about to hear something that'll change him again.

"You don't have to—" he starts, but you raise a hand asking for silence, for give me a second, and he stops. As long as you want to.

"We never talked about the 26th," you state. He goes back to washing your legs, shaking his head. "Can I?"

"Yeah."

"I was—" you breathe in deep, and look at him again searching for something. "I never told this to anyone."

Joel nods. "I never talk about it, too."

"It doesn't help, does it?" Your eyes are red-rimmed, and Joel notices there's much about you he never figured out. You're younger than him by a lot, but you were there.

"No." Sirens, flares of green light, and the cracking cacophony of screams and shots still wake him up almost daily. "No, it doesn't."

"I miss talking about him," you whisper to him. A tear slides down your face, and it cuts him.

Who does she miss? "Who do you miss?"

He's moved onto the other leg when you answer. "I was at my best friend's house on the twenty-sixth. She was working double shifts at the hospital to pay for—," you stop.

Joel can only take so much. He pulls you close until your face is resting on his shoulder, and he feels his eyes stinging.

He gets that. Sometimes saying a name was too much.

It took months before you heard of Sarah, and her name was all you got until now.

"Take your time," he says.

"Caio needed new glasses." Your arms wrap around Joel's middle, and he knows you'll be staying in his arms until the tale's over.

"Caio," he repeats. Recalling the roman numbers, he adds. "January twenty-five."

"Yeah. He—Caio broke his on his solo mission to find fossils in my backyard—well, technically my dog Diana was responsible, but he always said 'don't blame her, Gumma, she only wants to kiss me', so we said it was his fault."

"Gumma? Who's Gumma?"

"I am," you laugh. "He couldn't say 'godmother when he was born, so he shortened it. He told everybody I was Gumma, his s-second mommy."

Joel tightens his hold on you, suddenly very aware that he's shaking.

"He was sick," you go on. "So no school for him that day. Which means I was there. I could work from home, so Milla always called me."

"Was it just her?"

You nod on his shoulder. Joel starts rubbing his hand all over your back and he could never tell if it was for your comfort or his.

Both, probably.

"We raised him, basically," you sniffle. "Milla and I lived on the same street. She was basically disowned for her teenage pregnancy, so I told her parents they were always shitty at their job, and that unlike them, I knew what family meant, and that we didn't need them. If she wouldn't, I might as well."

Joel smiles at that. "Sounds like you."

"We moved, worked shitty jobs, and lived together for the most part. My parents helped us with bills for the most part of the first years. When—when Caio turned eleven, my parents paid for the coolest party. And—I'll never forget it, 'cause it was the last one he had, so..."

Eleven.

Joel buries his face and tears on the curve of your neck.

"So on the twenty-sixth, I was at home with him all day. Fucking hell, how unfair is that? That I got all those hours with him and—" the way you burrow your face on his throat makes Joel wish he could make you live under his skin. Protected from everything. Even memories. "When everything started going wrong, Milla was still at the hospital. She called twenty-three minutes before all signals went out to tell me that something was wrong, very wrong and that she felt we needed to go somewhere safe. She said 'babe, I want you to think of nothing else but getting to safety, d'you hear me? Go to Mr. Nunqua's house, he has a safety bunker there—go, and take Caio. I'll find you there."

Joel listens to the rest of the tale with his heart in his hands.

You got there, but Mr. Nunqua was already infected.

He was the first person you killed. His wife was the second.

You managed to get both you and Caio to the bunker, safe and sound, but it wasn't enough.

It never is.

Caio being Infected was a crueler end than anything Joel's mind came up with.

"He realized it, Joel. He noticed something was wrong, and—"

It takes a few more moments before you can finish what he already expected. "He asked me to make the pain stop before he could hurt me. He said 'please don't let me hurt you, Gumma'."

Milla found you cradling his body in your arms hours later, and that was the last you two saw of each other.

He lets you take your time to feel better before he pulls your face back to look at it.

The pink cheeks and eyes hurt him, but when he kisses your face, your lips, all he can think is how proud he is of you.

"Can I do you now?" you ask, pulling your hand out of the water in a request for the cloth.

He hands it to you, and watches as you do the same routine as he did.

In return, he asks you all types of questions.

He thought it would be hard to concentrate with your hands on him, but they're so dainty and careful that Joel feels transcendental.

No one ever took care of him like this.

Even the lovers that he once showered with, it was never this intimate.

In the bruises where he hisses in pain, you kiss somewhere else in a soothing manner. His shoulder, the nape of his neck, his outreached arm.

When the question comes, Joel is waiting for it, but he's not ready.

You answer the question about the places you've been and he replies with, "Oh, Sarah always wanted to go there. India."

"Did she?"

It's such a simple answer.

It locks him up the same. His muscles become tense, and his head shakes almost on its own.

I can't do it. He wished to be strong like you but talking about her hurts. "It hurts to talk about her. I don't—I can't."

He expects a nod, or a change of subject.

What he gets instead is you cupping his face in his hands and looking at every inch of his face.

"I know it hurts," you state. Joel, for the first time, believes someone. We raised him. You know how it feels, you do. Which is why what comes next blindsides him. "But Joel—she's already gone. I never thought I was gonna be able to speak about him with someone who understood, but—here you are. We cant—are you going to let her be forgotten, too?"

Bullets hurt less.

His body reacts for him—the inhale is shaky, almost frail. Your words hit harder than shots, but that's okay, because your inquisitive mind and sharp tongue were a couple of the reasons why he went back for you.

It was needed.

"I—" you start. Stop. Joel looks up at you, breathing out the air stuck inside his lungs, and wills himself to breathe. "You know..." your voice is quiet. "I think higher... beings or whatever—that does exist, 'cause—" your laugh is humorless. "I would totally be dead because of my stupid mouth if my path had crossed with anyone else but you."

Now he gets the lack of humor—a sad statement, but never untrue. Not even a hyperbole. Joel nods, "I'd say it's because you say things that you shouldn't, but it's the opposite. And most people don't like that."

I'm not most people, he thinks.

Thank you for saying what you did, is left unsaid. He sees in your eyes that you heard it loud and clear.

"What I'm saying is... you don't have to be ready now, but—" when you lean, his eyes close on instinct, but the kiss lands on his cheek. Sweet. Saccharine. "Please know that you can. When you want to."

He nods.

After a deep breath, you look at all of him. "I think we're clean. Next round?"

The tub is emptied, filled up again, and Joel thinks about how right you are, and how often.

The second shower will be perfect. He's clean now, but when he sits back down on clean water, it feels different.

He groans, and you laugh in response. "I know, right?"

Joel liked it better when you were fitting your bodies against each other.

The water in the tub seems to carry the tension of what you two have been waiting for. Conducting the electricity in each other's thoughts.

"What now?" you ask.

Joel knows what now. "C'mere," he pats his chest.

Like a well-oiled machine, you spin around and fit yourself against him in a second.

This time, Joel pulls you close until you're basically on his lap.

"Now this," he answers. To feel. "I think I had a dream like this once when we were camping."

"What?!"

He likes how shock always makes you look at him, even if it means craning your neck in the worst positions. He laughs. "Yeah. It was a river instead of a cool tub in a forest cabin, though."

"There's no way you—" words are cut sharp, and your eyes widen. "You did! Oh my god, you actually did. You avoided looking at my face all day for two days after that, I thought I'd done something wrong!"

He takes the hit you land on his shoulder with a smile. "You did. You sunk a knife in the middle of an Infected's head and kept me from dying."

What else could he say?

Joel shrugs. "It was hot."

He likes how you can look shy even sitting on his lap, feeling all of his body. "You're crazy," you laugh, looking down.

"Mmm. And don't you forget it," he kisses your shoulder, and that's it—that's all both of you needed to wish for more.

Your hand comes to cover both of his, and Joel is giddy with excitement when you guide his hands from your middle to your breasts.

It's silent permission. An invite.

It's all he needs.

"Can I make you feel good?" he kisses right under your ear and nuzzles his nose right there, goosebumps rising on his skin in response to your full-body shiver.

The next touches are bathed in silence.

The only sounds in the room come from the water moving with each move of both your bodies, and the soft exhale that escapes your lips.

Joel doesn't think about how long it's been since—everything feels like a first time.

A rekindle of sorts.

The hands you guided to your boobs stay there for a few moments, getting a feel of their size, their softness, how perfect they feel in his hands.

Your head drops to his shoulder, chin tilted upwards, eyes closed.

Joel thinks he's dreaming.

The faint pain in some places of his body is the only indication he has of reality.

Nothing else matters when you say, "Joel," so softly, so pleading.

"I'm here," he kisses the words on your skin. Your cheeks, temples, your shoulders that are right there. "I'm here, darlin'."

In the soft moans you let out, Joel plants a flag to signal his way home now every time he's lost in darkness.

The moans are so earnest and shaky that Joel starts trembling when you do. His hands move to explore your belly, and he pins the wound on your side as a reminder for later—it'll scar. He wants to kiss it better. Will kiss it until he's satisfied.

When his hands reach your waist, he imagines you feel his heart racing faster.

He takes his time with it, not only because you deserve it, but because it feels good.

Playing with the hair on your pussy feels good because it makes you whimper. Touching the folds with the tip of his fingers gets your legs to open a little wider until they're spread apart. Joel moans at the gesture and is gifted with another shiver. "Like this?" he asks, doing it again.

Tracing his fingertips up and down the folds.

"Joel," you grind against him, reminding him that he's here, and he's aching, too.

When you do it, your ass finds his cock hard as a rock, and it snuggles to grind on him, giving him the first feel of friction.

With another moan, Joel's lips are sucking on your earlobe. "Tell me what I do that feels good," he states.

Then he dips his fingers inside.

"No one's touched you here before?" his middle finger dips right into the core, applying pressure but not touching.

Your moans vibrate on his chest. "N-no one but me."

"Yeah?" the mental image makes him even harder. Joel thought that wasn't even possible anymore. "Did you finger yourself a lot?"

You nod frantically, pushing your hips forward, seeking more of his touch.

"Did it feel this good?" he moves his middle and ring finger up until they find your clitoris, and he starts rubbing circles on it; he pinches it, measures it with his knuckles, plays with it.

Maybe that's why you don't answer.

He'll take your moans as a good sign. Your chest is panting, and Joel feels a little drunk. He hasn't been drunk in years—no whiskey available for regular people will do that anymore; too diluted, too fake.

Your heavy breathing and nails sinking on his forearms get his mind hazy.

Joel kisses, licks, then sucks on your neck. "Talk to me, darlin'. I wanna know. I need to know."

"Joel," you say, but too loud. He uses his other hand to pinch your nipple, and the whimper you let out makes him twitch against your back.

"No screaming." Not this time. "I'm waitin' on your answer."

"I don't remember the question," you whine.

"Did it feel this good?" he pushes only one finger inside, and your mouth opens wide. Joel might not make it—it's so fucking tight and all he can think about is burying himself in it. All of him.

"Nonononono, it didn't, it didn't," you mumble.

It's a slow process, opening you up.

All the time, Joel talks in your ear about how good you're doing. "Taking my fingers so well, look at ya," he sounds drunk if he pays close attention. Two fingers fit in too tight, so Joel takes his time until he feels you opening up.

There's the grinding that never stops—the more Joel pushes his fingers in and out of you, the more you move in sync with his hand, grinding back up against him with every push inside.

It's torture. He loves every second of it.

"I want more," you whine at some point.

Joel was so lost appreciating the view of your chest painted red that he missed when you whispered his name the first couple of times.

He checks it—buries his fingers up until his knuckles, massages the spots inside of you that make you curl your toes and pull your knees up higher.

"Please," you beg.

He likes the sound of it, but he'll leave that for later.

The third finger is easier than the second—Joel feels how slick you are. He knows water bodies are not the best places for penetration, but he values your comfort more than anything right now, and in here you're both warm. At ease.

When his name starts falling from your lips like a song, Joel knows it's coming.

His other hand keeps traveling through your body—grabbing at your neck, pinching the hardened nipples of your gorgeous tits, palming through your stomach.

If his lips left your skin for longer than a minute, Joel thinks it's too much. "Yeah, yeah, I know, darlin', it's climbing up, isn't it?" he thinks addiction can be so easy. Your whines are necessary now for him, no matter what. "I wanna see it so badly." His voice had never been this low. Hoarse like sandpaper, and so filled with lust. "You're all ready for me now, d'you feel it?"

All three fingers are buried until the knuckles. Scissoring them open, pumping them against your walls in search of that spot inside you that makes you shake—Joel can barely breathe.

"D'you want more than this? Hm? 'Cause I'm in heaven, darlin'," he tells you. "All I need is to see you let go now. I can't believe I'll be the lucky fucker that gets to see you fall apart."

"Joel, I want more—want all of it, please, please—"

"I'll give it to you, I will." He'd give you anything. "You can have anything you ask me, anythin'."

"Harder—please, please, please—oh! Fuck, like that, like that, Joel."

"You sound so good moaning my name I'm gonna fuckin' lose my mind," he growls. "Do it. Cum on my fingers. Cum for me."

Joel marveled with every shake of your body. He closed his eyes and kissed the part of yours that was the closest. Your legs clamped shut around his hand, thighs shaking. At least this time, you remembered to muffle your sounds on him.

In his neck, you bit down the whispers of his name. Whimpers. Ohs,

He waited for the impossible grip to ease before he thumbed a grazing touch over your clit—just to check; to feel.

"Want more," you kissed his neck, and there was no need for all that honey in your voice, really.

Joel drank it, anyway. Licked it clean from your lips, and drowned in the way you and the water seemed to wrap him in.

"We gotta get outta the water, baby," says Joel. "'s not a good idea we do it in here."

You stopped kissing his neck, your hips stopped their motion and the little look around you at the room makes Joel's stomach feel funny. He feels almost suffocated with this need to kiss all over the red on your face.

"Uhm—are we... here?"

Joel never thought he'd live to see the day you would avoid the word 'fuck', but he smiled at it. "No, darlin', we should get dry. Put our clothes on. We can finish this in the room, right?"

You lick your lips, and then his. You bite his bottom lip, sucking it into yours, and Joel is fucked.

He melts, too. All over you, on your fingertips caressing his cheeks, on your chest pressing against his, and on the depths of your eyes as you stare deeply into his.

"'kay," you whisper. "Let's go."

Joel helps you out and loves to watch the way you gravitate toward him. When you whisper, "Do we have to put on our clothes?"

He wraps you in the towel instead of answering, and pulls you to his chest again. "Body warmth, remember?" Just for good measure, he puts the other one around him, collects all the clean clothes you had bought, and then looks at you.

"Hop on," he nudges your waist with his hands, and you get exactly what he means; your legs wrap around his middle and your arms stay firm around his neck. Joel holds you with a satisfied grunt, "atta girl."

The warmth of all of this has a price.

Joel knows it as he walks you to the room you two share, as he closes the door behind you both, as he lays your bodies on the joined mattresses, and pulls the winter blanket over your bodies.

It'd be more than a steep price.

Something on the figures of what he signed off when he took the job from Marlene—when he took Ellie out of her fingers.

Those dotted lines he signed with a blind eye. Unaware of what he was agreeing to until he Ellie's life faced danger and all the moments of every single awful joke she told, her smart jabs and the braveness in her bones to risk her life for him came back like a slap to the face, and Joel was crushed under the enormous weight of it all.

He accepted it, even if he still couldn't say it.

With you, it was almost the same.

He signed the dotted lines when he came back for you.

He couldn't know, wouldn't dream of knowing what he had signed up for until the time he ordered you to keep close and you answered with: "Always. El, you know it—between us."

Seven words, and Joel thought of nothing else for days.

Always.

For months, you never left his side.

Abided by his temper, shortness, curt words.

Spoke through his darkness and whiskey, reaching out to him the same way you did with Ellie—pulling from deep within the part of him that was still alive. Truly human.

When Joel touches all of you covered under a blanket, he wills his eyes to stay shut because if he opens them, they'll sting.

He feels too much, and it's never enough. The taste of your skin is sewn along with lines of fear, the acidic and familiar taste of I can't do it. I can't lose this. I can't lose you.

He kisses every inch.

Joel licks his name out off your lips every time they come out.

He nuzzles his face like an animal trying to imprint scent all over—from your neck all the way down to the inside of your thighs you'll have beard burns and it's okay, because you ask for them.

In the quiet, you two say so much.

Joel asked you, "you gotta keep quiet, baby, we can't be loud," and you listened, because you're so good. He says it, too. "So good, baby... you're so good," and listens to you reply with,

"You're so good, Joel. So good."

He soaks it all up until it's all mixed in his veins.

The price of hearing your sinful whisper in his ear is high. "Need you inside me," you brand in his skin. "Please, Joel?"

Joel would close his eyes and see those words—he wants to burn them behind his eyelids since they're so loud they erase everything else from his brain for a while.

He fingers you some more to double-check if you're ready and he has to talk, because, "You're so fuckin' wet, darlin', my god," he whispers in your ear, and your nails clawing at his back, digging into his skin tell him to hurry. "All this for me?"

"Please stop torturin' me," you whisper back, sounding like you're about to cry.

It's torture for both of you, so Joel lines up. He teases you with his cock, gliding his shaft between your lips, coating it in the slick that's dripping down your legs, and whispers, "You want it?"

"Joel," you growl at him.

Joel pushes in with a smile on his face and has his face scrunched in a silent smile when he slips inside. It's a tight fit at first, and Joel has to stop midway. He has to breathe.

"'m gonna go slow, 'kay?" He does. He pulls almost all the way out, and slowly pushes in again, feeling you tense around him, "Breathe, baby, you gotta breathe for me."

"Joel," you whisper. Around his cock, your cunt pulses, and he curses under his breath. You bury your whole face in his face and moan. "s big," you moan. "Feels so good."

He's only a man, you see—Joel's hands are supporting his weight on each side of your face, and they tremble.

He has to drop to his forearms and elbows, caging your body underneath his. "Breathe really deep for me, baby," he whispers, and you do it. "Close your eyes now, and relax."

The price of having you all to himself is one Joel never could afford, but one he'll spend each day of his life doing everything in his possession to pay.

His whole body shakes as you open up for him. It's a blossoming—Joel feels it around his cock the moment your body relaxes and you feel it.

Your legs wrap around him tighter.

"Move," you whisper.

So he does.

He's deeply in debt.

Joel gets lost in the feeling of how warm and tight you are around his cock, and it makes him drunk. It makes him feel like you're wrapped all around him, and Joel never fucked like this.

He could've gone a century without sex and he would remember;

Nothing felt like this.

No desire or lust or bodies aligning ever made him move this slowly, with this much pace; Joel's back must become a mural of claws being sharpened by the time you beg him to go faster, to push harder.

"'m not gonna break Joel, for fuck's sake, please," you beg as he kisses your lips and fucks you leisurely, and it registers.

Through the thick fog of everything that this is, he listens to it, and he gives it to you.

Joel has no idea how he lasts this long.

When you cum for him, it's not even because he's fucking you. He's more like imprinting the memory of your velvety touch all around him, pushing deep and hard as he caresses the sweat off your face, and he's telling you all that his lust-drunken mind is thinking off.

"Didn't think—could feel this good, darlin'." His pauses are his thrusts, and he wonders if you're listening to any of it, or is just lost on the sound of his voice. He knows you like it. "You like—the sound of my voice—don't you, baby? I know you do." Thurst—and deep, and fuck, "I'm—so fuckin' lucky—look at you—look at how good—god, you're gonna kill me, baby—"

He dies a little death when he feels you start shaking.

All you.

His name spills from your lips and your nails dig in deeper than ever before, and that's what does it, what drops the pin and makes the ball of knotted tension that kept him high burst—Joel has only the notion to pull out before he cums, but he cums so hard that he loses sense of everything for a moment or two.

Your hands are soothing his face when he comes back to it.

Joel feels like a whole person for just those hours with you in the dark.

With you, he realized something—while Joel's skin may offer him little comfort, yours does.

The soothing peace that comes with feeling that again, comfort, makes Joel breathe out and close his eyes without his chest tied in one big knot for the first time since... it. He is alive. However that came to be, or why, he'll never know, but your words are a mantle of truth that can start bringing peace to his inner war of two continuous decades now—he can either keep living and burying everything: Existence, hopes, feelings, love, memories, her, her—Sarah;

or... he can live.

Joel wants to live. With Ellie, with you. He pulls you closer, and focuses one last second to hear the certain sound of Ellie's pencil furiously creating something on paper across the thin wall, and he sleeps.

📝 So. I gave the old man some love and some peace (that he deserves) because I watched him lose yet another person this Sunday and I was hurt. What did you guys think? :)

#usernexusnyx #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller hurt comfort #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x female character #joel miller imagine #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic

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tinycozycomfort · 7 months

Text

trust fall

pairing: jackson era!joel miller x f!reader

day two of @pascalisbaby and i's joeltober: fluid exchange -> read her day two here

summary: This, that was a shy thing at first, set into motion by some passing remark you’d made all those months ago—that he would do anything for you if you just asked nice enough.

warnings/tags: pwp!, fluid exchange (come eating/spitting), oral sex (f receiving), anal play, dirty talk, mention of unprotected piv, dom/sub dynamics, pet names (honey, sweetheart, etc), praise kink, edging

word count: 1.6k

rating: explicit! 18+ only, mdni

a/n: arguably the filthiest thing i've ever written (nervous) but wow was it great practice. thank you for reading!

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“What a mess. Who’s gonna clean all this up, sweetheart?”

He’s thumbing at the crease of your thigh where it folds into your core, pulling against the bend so that your seam widens. You can feel him looking, each cool swing of his breath fanning over the heat at your center. The slow trickle of where he leaks out of you makes your skin tighten, shrinking uncomfortably over muscle in little welts.

Joel doesn’t take well to your lack of focus, choosing to demand your attention instead; the press of his thumb turns harder, meeting the end of his pointer to pinch. The pain is instant, but the delay from your haze makes you skip a yelp all together, straight to words like he wants.

“I’ll clean myself.”

He hums, releasing your flesh, petting the wound where it thrums, “Now how can you reach all the way down here?”

You know this game well—where he means to reduce you to less than incapable, framing it like you’ve lost your way after what he’s just done to you. He wants to act like he can help you, when in reality it’s done to service himself, only further fueling his need to be in control—a role that toes the line between offender and caretaker. He aches to relinquish you of every responsibility, even that of thought.

Joel swipes at the come that refuses to let up where it’s dripping out, making a slow show—one that only he can see and only you can feel—of gathering and pooling and reinserting it, just to watch it slip out again.

“I-I don’t know. But I need to get clean.”

He’s smiling something horrible, eyes shining when you gaze down to plead your case for assistance.

“Oh, poor thing, I know. It’s not your fault,” he dips his thumb into you before trailing up just under the bead of skin above your opening, “There’s just so much. But you’re right, we can’t have you ruining the sheets.” Joel bares his teeth again when you hiss, narrowly missing your clit when you try to maneuver your way into his hand.

You pant, barely able to piece together your cue, “How?”

“Hard to think after the way I fucked you, hm?” He brushes his free hand across the hill of your cheek, pitiful, as he shakes his head in mock disbelief, “I guess I could help you, sweetheart. Do you want that?”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, please.”

“There she goes. My polite girl. Same one who begged for all this mess in the first place—isn’t that right?”

You can’t bear to try and find the words, just letting your head loll to the side so you can nod without the pain of keeping your neck straight. He’s unraveling your grip thread by thread so you can become the soft, helpless thing he needs you to be.

He shoves himself down, ducks his head to be level with your cunt, the hot vent of air around his face bleeding onto you. He’s worked up—you know it from the delicate shudder in his hands, the uneven half-steps in his breathing—and while he swears he can’t, you wish he’d fuck you again. You wriggle, back flat to the bed and knees spreading instinctively.

Joel starts at the slip of skin separating your cunt from what sits beneath it, careful to catch what he couldn’t collect on the last sweep. His mouth is warm and his tongue gentle, but the breath it punches out of you is hard—furious.

You’re humming high in your throat, past the point of well-mannered, and he’s delighted, slipping the muscle between his lips inside of you, tilting his head just enough so that his nose can’t touch where you’re throbbing for him most.

You beg, “Joel. Joel, please,” rolling the knobs of your spine forcefully enough to sting, trying uselessly to make contact. He huffs, forearm mashing haphazardly against the curve of your hip, flustered.

“You don’t need it, honey. Now keep still.”

You’re full-on whining now, little pieces of sound, reedy and loud and not enough to make him feel bad, apparently.

He nestles himself back in, the wide flat of his tongue pressing hard enough to breach your hole, spooning out everything you saved for him inside you and you start to seethe, a thin film of sweat breaking out across your chest—boiling.

The hand you haven’t felt in a while returns to a different place, the tips of his pointer and middle brushing under where he’s eating you, the hole there wet with whatever continues to evade his mouth.

He circles it and you fidget, begging him for anything more, the slow working of his jaw not enough to bring you to the edge.

There’s the other half of the game—if you can’t come before he’s deemed you clean, you don’t get to at all.

A sticky curl of love swells in your belly at how familiar you are now with this routine, how far he’s come—peeling away enough of his distance to show his face, to bring you to this. This, that was a shy thing at first, set into motion by some passing remark you’d made all those months ago—that he would do anything for you if you just asked nicely enough.

Joel’s uncovered desire to see you need him, beg for him, just to make him relent in your favor, was intoxicating. In turn, he continues to make it harder every time for you both, upping the stakes after you barely manage to satisfy his last demand; narrow wins that remind you of just how much power he holds. Always sweet and comforting and protecting, even if from the severity of himself.

Your stomach clenches, trying frantically to pace your breaths, to focus on the feeling of every too-long pass that has him nudging the underside of your clit, the way his fingers tease against your asshole. He hums in warning, almost done, and you knock a fist against the bed in frustration.

He pulls away suddenly and your shoulders cave, upset by his unwarned finish, and you’re ready to apologize within an inch of your life when he pipes up.

“Am I not enough for you, honey? You liked my cock, plenty. Why can’t you do it for my mouth, too?”

“Joel. Joel, you are—you’re enough. I just– right now I need more.”

“No, you don’t. And I’m not going to tell you again. Now—” he uses the hand not already playing with you to dig into the meat of your thigh, nails drawn, maybe a little upset by how many words you’ve managed despite his ministrations, “Make me happy.”

He sways low again, the return of his mouth against-underneath-inside of you making your hands curl, a warm buzz floating up through your legs and forearms to meet together in the middle. He’s fervent, determined to prove you wrong now that you’ve challenged his ability and you’re squealing, so light-headed from the effort to breathe that you’re close to stopping all together.

Joel feeds his lip between his teeth against you reflexively, like he’s trying to hold himself back for a moment, and the idea that he’s gearing up for a long night makes you heave.

He tries to hide his tell, taking the quickest pause to spit onto his fingers, prodding at your asshole to divert your attention, hardly sliding in as to not give you more than you’ve earned, “Don’t get ahead of yourself, now. Haven’t worked for much of anything yet.”

“But–”

“Show me you can be good, first. Shouldn’t be so hard for you, honey, c’mon.” He inches closer once more, breathing out against you, alternating between little puffs of cold exhales and firm pants of hot air.

You writhe, so pent up you feel restricted by your own body, like climbing out from a pool fully-clothed—heavy and sopping and always tipping back with resistance. Your face is on fire, fingers twisting to try and take the brunt of your need to move.

Joel is ecstatic—you can hear the wet slide of his grin—and you’re right at the cusp of giving in when he breaks the gap, hot mouth latching onto your clit and you’re gone. You can feel it spread the length of your core first, filling out quickly to everywhere else and you jolt, legs snapping together fast enough that your knees knock above his head.

He repositions his hands, squeezing between them to pry you open. You wedge a wrist behind you, trying to lift yourself in an effort to stop him but when you peer down, the look on his face is serene, pleading. An exercise in trust maybe—that he’s acquainted enough with your body to know your limit.

You let yourself rest again and inhale deep, letting him work you down to a stop, the feeling of overstimulation falling into a wash of fuzzy static . Only after you unfold does Joel remove himself, pressing light kisses to the peak of your hip bone on his way up—proud.

He leans over your torso, his chest parallel, the damp rub of your skin setting your heart off as you breathe in tandem. Selfishly, you scrabble a bit, wanting desperately to have more claim on his body.

“Hey, hey. Shh. No need to do all that. I’m right here for you.” Joel gathers up your palm between his fingers, sliding your limp knuckles over his cheeks, the little curve of his lip. A moment passes and you reclaim ownership of it, caressing the underside of his jaw faintly.

“Was I good?” you whisper.

“So good. See, I knew you could do it.”

He nudges at the band of rib under your breast, “Maybe even a little too good—looking very empty now, sweetheart. What do you think we oughta do about that?”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller/reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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personasintro · 6 months

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Mutual Help | #54

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mature content

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 21.2k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢

“No.”

“But–”

“I said no. What's not clicking?”

You should've expected this response and reaction. Not even in your wildest dreams you imagined this to go smoothly, the lack of sleep you've managed to get after yesterday speaks for everything. Not only Jungkook and the argument your friends witnessed so openly clouded your mind and made it difficult for you to surrender yourself to tiredness, but also wondering how you will throw your idea at Yoongi the next morning.

This is all your fault and you shouldn't have spoken when angry and annoyed. The idea of inviting Yoongi to your camping trip is not only stupid but it doesn't make sense either. To be honest, you're aware of Jungkook's dislike toward your co-worker and he didn't fail to show it yesterday either. That's why you stubbornly said he's coming too.

“He's not even your friend.”

Jungkook might be right about that, but you're going to prove him wrong. You will drag Yoongi there whether he wants to or not, whatever it takes. You've been determined and pretty confident until now.

You haven't even managed to fully explain yourself before Yoongi straightforwardly dismissed you during the lunch break. Not only have you been bracing yourself to approach him, you feel embarrassed how blunt and rude he is about it.

“You didn't even hear me out.” you exclaim, thanking God there are no other co-workers witnessing this embarrassing moment of you ready to beg Yoongi.

“And I didn't have to,” Yoongi shrugs, taking a sip of his coffee as he cocks his brow in your direction, silently challenging you which makes your blood boil.

Two people have pissed you off in less than twenty-four hours. And it's not because of your period. Yes, you got it and you never thought you would be happier about it, even though there was a really low risk in the first place. Still, it calmed down your nerves and you wondered whether you should inform Jungkook about it, only because you were too relieved and excited. In the end, you decided not to because that could be potentially weird. All of this was before your argument that took place yesterday.

“I don't even want to know why you invited me somewhere. There has to be some kind of ulterior motive for it.” He squints his eyes suspiciously at you while you roll your eyes at him.

“I know it's weird but–”

“Fucking weird,” Yoongi cuts you off, your mouth shut as you glare at him while he takes a calm sip of his steaming coffee. “Now leave me alone so I can enjoy the rest of my lunch break.”

What would you do if you could just kick him in the ass for being such an asshole? You really want to do that and for a second you contemplate on doing that, but then you're reminded what you got yourself into. You're stubborn and you're determined on showing up with Yoongi.

“Yoongi!” you call out to him, your cheeks heating even in a bigger embarrassment how panicked you sound.

But thankfully, he turns around and doesn't ignore you. However, he looks already tired of you and he doesn't fail to not show it. Besides the dark hair that has gotten longer in the back and frames his face, annoyance and tiredness does too. You're the unmistakable reason behind it.

Taking this chance, you rush back to him, too scared he's going to leave and leave you to your destiny and humiliation. You won't give any satisfaction to Jungkook. It's petty and childish, but you're not backing down.

Your next words are painful and you just can't believe you're saying them to Yoongi – out of all people – but you have no one else to ask. “I need your help.”

His face remains stoic, doesn't give any sort of reaction and the longer he stays quiet with the coffee in his hands, the more you feel like the floor could swallow you whole. You wish it would. The idiot is never going to live it down once you actually explain things to him. Not that you will give him a full explanation, but he won't believe you if you just tell him you want him there. Both of you know that's proper bullshit.

“You need what? Say it again.”

Argh, this idiot.

You swallow down your pride, still throwing him a glare before you mutter through your clenched teeth, “I need your help, you idiot.”

“Now, I don't like that. You don't call names, someone you ask for help. Bye.”

For fuck sake!

“Okay, okay! I'm sorry,” you whine, grasping him by his wrist as he follows your hand with a frown which makes you let go. “I need your help, please.”

He studies your face, frowning before looking away in annoyance and a moment later, he lets out a tired sigh. “What is this about?”

“I need you to come with me on a camping trip.”

“You said that before.” He points out.

You didn't exactly say that.

“I'm going on a camping trip this weekend, I want you to go with me.” Is what you exactly said.

“And my answer is still no.” He turns to leave but you jump in front of him.

“Can you please let me explain?” you whine, pouting which makes him scrunch his nose. You don't wait for a response, knowing he really is about to leave if you won't do something quickly. “I kinda told my friends you're coming and there's no going back.”

“And why would you do that?” He squints his eyes again.

Poking your inner cheek, you look away for a moment in a mere embarrassment. “I got into an argument with Jungkook. He pissed me off and it somehow came out of me.”

“Ah,” he lets out, emphasizing his realization too much and it pisses you off. “So you're using me because you want to piss your boyfriend off?”

To be honest, you completely get Yoongi and why he would never agree to this. He has no reason to. Even if he could easily refuse because of you alone, he and Jungkook haven't ended on a good note the last time you can remember. Bringing Yoongi with you could cause some serious problems and it's only now that you think of the possible consequences. As long as both of them behave, there should be no issue.

But the guys are welcoming and friendly, they surely wouldn't be rude to Yoongi and even though he's an asshole, you wouldn't put him in that position of inviting him to somewhere where people would be assholes to him. You're not that dumb. Jungkook can behave too, as long as Yoongi doesn't provoke him but you wouldn't bet on it.

“He is not my boyfriend,” you grumble. “And no, I'm not using you. I think. I don't like the sound of that.”

“So how would you explain my presence there if it's not to piss him off?”

Sighing, you scratch your temple. “No. I need you there because I said you will be there in the heat of the moment. And I'm not giving him that satisfaction of showing up without you.”

“Wow,” Yoongi hums, “You're very persistent.”

You only stare.

“And stupid if you think I'm going.”

“Yoongi!” you whine, almost stomping your feet. “I will do anything you want. Please. The food is free, I will pay for everything there and you won't have to pay for anything. Come on, you don't want to spend the weekend in a nice nature with good food?”

His lips twitch in amusement when you're bluntly trying to persuade him. But the pride is out of the window now. “Not really.”

You groan, “Our friends are coming too and they are really great.”

“I've got enough friends, thank you.”

“No, I meant you would have a great time there. And not mentioning you would seriously help me. I'm desperate Yoongi, if you can't see. I'm practically begging you at our workplace, throwing away my dignity. Come on.”

“I don't like camping.” he informs you, not showing any kind of interest of actually agreeing and you're seriously close to crying. He's making it difficult for you.

“I will buy you breakfast or lunch every day for a week.” you blurt out, wondering what on earth could Min Yoongi possibly want from you.

“A week? Is that how much my presence is worth?”

It's not worth even an hour, you want to say. But you clench your teeth instead and take a deep breath. “For a month.”

“Hm, that's better.” he muses, taking another sip of his warm coffee now. The steam is gone, a reminder of how long this begging has been going on for.

“So? What are you saying?”

“I don't know, Y/N. I don't really want to spend my free weekend with you and your friends.” he admits shamelessly, completely ignoring your look of disbelief that turns into a glare.

“Trust me, I could imagine my weekend without you too.” you grumble and he leans his ear closer to your face.

“What was that?”

Fucker . He heard you perfectly.

“Yoongi,” you beg. “Please.”

He stares at you, your foot impatiently and nervously tapping against the floor as you give him a look of desperation. He has every reason to say no .

“Add coffee there too.”

You squeal in happiness, jumping repeatedly in place with your hands close to your chest and you're close to hugging him. Yoongi winces at your disposal of excitement and relief, throwing you an unappreciative glare.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Yoongi sighs, “Don't make me regret it.” he grumbles, brushing past you as you still can't hide the smile.

“I will text you the details!”

“Don't bother!” he calls out, his back turned to you but you ignore him, too engrossed at your own success of persuasion.

“Let me get this straight,” Maya stops swirling the straw, not hiding her obvious shock. “You invited your friend because Jungkook decided to invite his own?”

“He's not my friend, more like a coworker.” you correct her.

You still can't believe you've managed to pull it off. Luckily, Yoongi never came to you to cancel the whole camping trip like you feared. Still, you hope he will show up and won't bail on you last minute. He is Min Yoongi. He is capable of anything and you wouldn't put it past him.

You and Jungkook still haven't talked since that day of your argument. What can't be said about Jimin who showed his obvious confusion, not forgetting to give you another lecture through texts. Taehyung called you both dumb but never really said anything else besides that. To say it this way, you had no one to vent to and when Maya asked to hang out before the trip, you agreed straight away.

She gives you a look, though she doesn't judge while she tries to wrap her head around what you've just told her. She knows about Ester coming, Jungkook didn't forget to inform everyone in the group chat that has been created purposely for this trip. It was two days after your argument and his message made your eyes roll. Namjoon offered to help with the tent situation even without Jungkook asking and you found yourself to be annoyed with him because of it. But you know that's stupid because he's just trying to be helpful.

Why does he always have to save the day?

In two days you're leaving on this trip and the closer it gets, you wonder if coming at all is a good idea. Maybe you could cancel it, fake sickness or something. But your friends would never live it down. They would see straight to your lie, not mentioning it would be suspicious as hell.

“You guys are not talking now?”

“No, we haven't talked since that argument. We don't have arguments like that often and usually, one of us reaches out first. But it's been days and nothing happened.” you explain, frowning at your drink.

“You're both stubborn,” Maya infers, “This is a mess.”

She causes you to groan as you want to rub your face frustratedly, but it wouldn't be worth ruining your makeup. “Don't remind me.”

“But things were fine before that, right? You guys are still…?” She trails off, doing a weird gesture with her hands but you understand it immediately as your cheeks flush.

“Yeah, yeah everything was fine. But you should've seen him. Argh, this fucking sucks. I just got so annoyed because he mentioned inviting her all of a sudden. We barely know her, he barely knows her and he wants to play some kind of hero or something, I don't know. I simply questioned him and he got annoyed, making me feel like the bad guy,”

Maya listens attentively.

“I mean, I wasn't a saint either. I am not a saint in this but he just got me so annoyed. The way he reacted and looked at me. Even the tone he used.”

Maya watches you for a moment, a smile threatening to appear on her lips and it does. She tries to hide it behind the straw but you catch it right away, giving her a look. “What?”

“Sounds like you're jealous.”

You groan loudly, throwing your head back. “I am not… jealous.”

“That sounded really convincing.” she sings out and you glare at her.

“I am not jealous romantically .” you elaborate.

“Has Jungkook ever had any other female friends beside you?” Maya questions, causing you to shake your head.

“No, not that I know of. No. I'm sure he hasn't. That's if we don't count Jia but she's Jin's girlfriend, well, wife now. She is also his ex's best friend but I don't think they're friends, friends if you know what I mean.”

“Ah, yeah. I totally get that,” she nods. “Well, then it's more than clear.”

You pause. “What is clear?”

“He never had any other female friends beside you and now he does. You feel threatened, therefore you're jealous.”

“I'm not threatened.” you chuckle, but the sound turns into a nervous one as your eyes widen. Are you threatened by Ester? You're sure you aren't. Your friendship with Jungkook is special. He is allowed to have other female friends.

Maya gives you a knowing look. “Maybe not completely. What you and Jungkook have… I don't think he's ever going to have that with her. But still, you never really had to share him with anyone else. Him inviting her is kinda out of the blue, but you're mainly jealous because you've always been his only female friend.”

You can't say she's far off. You admitted it yourself, you did feel jealous but hearing her saying it out loud to your face feels like a proper slap. You do regret acting like a child that evening, you shouldn't have been so annoyed at him inviting his new friend. You're not possessive or overly jealous. You never had a reason to be. But like Maya said, you never really had to share him. Not only him but your friends too. The three of you have been close since you met them.

You've got a special bond and even though they've got more friends, you know none of them are that close.

“Do you know how I know this?”

“Hm?” you hum, taking a sip of your virgin mojito to shake yourself out of your intrusive thoughts.

“I can relate to you,” she says, “I had this friend back home. We've known each other since elementary school, we grew up with each other and I thought nothing could separate us. You know, the usual childhood friendship?” She laughs at the memory, though she doesn't sound sad at all.

That gives you a bit of relief for some reason.

“She found this other friend in highschool since we went to different ones. She started hanging out with her more and more, I guess I felt threatened after a while. I was jealous. And I'm not the jealousy type either. I never felt that way before, but I guess it happens when you have a best friend. You get jealous, it's completely normal.”

Maya leans against the chair, giving you a brief smile.

“We went separate ways shortly after. I'm not saying that will happen to you and Jungkook!” she quickly adds. “But we grew out of each other, I guess. What I meant to say with this, is that I felt similar and you're not wrong for feeling jealous. We're humans for fuck sake. Sometimes we don't understand each other and I see you kinda blame yourself for questioning Jungkook. But I'm sure you guys will be fine. Some silly argument won't separate you.”

You almost tease her for getting too deep, but you know it would only be a facade to mask your appreciation for her. She always manages to ease your nerves. She understands you on another level. You usually have that with Jungkook. It's nice to have someone else too. What if Jungkook is going to have that with Ester?

No, stop!

“He is allowed to have other friends. I don't want to come out as possessive.”

“And you're not,” she assures you. “It's something new for you. Don't blame yourself.”

You stare at her before a sad chuckle leaves your mouth. “You always make me feel better.” you admit, causing her to smile at you.

“What are friends for?” she jokes, “But no really. I didn't say that because I'm your friend. I genuinely think this.”

“Thank you.”

She leans her elbows on the table, peering at you with brown curious eyes. “Tell me about you guys. How are you guys doing? Minus the whole argument, obviously.”

Knowing exactly what she means, you sigh and think it through. How are you and Jungkook doing? You're not sure great does justice to what you're experiencing with him. Reasonably, you wouldn't talk about your sex life with Jimin or Taehyung. Despite their openness and closeness in your circle, it would be weird to rave about having sex with their best friend. Even more now that Jimin knows and clearly showed his dislike.

“Jimin knows about us.” you inform her, filling her in with the latest news that involves your relationship.

“No shit!” She widens her eyes as you give her a nod.

“Taehyung told him, accidentally but told him nevertheless. He didn't really have a good reaction to it, but I guess I expected that.” you explain.

“Is Jimin not supportive? Or how would I say it? Understanding?”

“No, no. He usually is,” you quickly go to defend Jimin. “He was concerned about our friendship. He just doesn't want us to ruin it.”

“Hm, I can understand that,” she hums. “But you two know what you're doing best. It's easy to judge or have a say when you're an outsider.”

Maya is right. Jimin didn't mean to hurt you in any way, even though his words were straight-forward and he didn't exactly go easy on you. The little doubt sparkling inside you is all his doing and you realize his words have cut deeper.

After all, this is something you and Jungkook talked about. You settled on having fun on your own terms, knowing it's not the most common thing – let alone it's not something you would imagine happening two years ago. But you trust each other, you're honest with each other and if any of you decide to end it, it's not going to be a big deal. This is something that is going to end eventually, you're both fully aware of that. It's stupid of you to let anyone or anything to get between that.

And that's exactly what you're trying to voice to Maya who listens attentively and gives you a reassuring smile throughout it all.

“I'm sure many friends or best friends sleep together. I don't think it's that rare.” she thinks out loud.

“I would never imagine doing that with Jungkook. And it sort of happened… naturally? We weren't supposed to exactly sleep together, that wasn't the goal or plan. We just left that open. He wanted me to be comfortable with everything we were doing.”

“That's even better. That it happened naturally, I mean.”

“Two years ago, we literally cringed every time someone brought us, dating. I mean, we're not dating but just the thought of kissing each other made us grimace.” you chuckle at the memory which makes Maya do the same.

“Oh come on, you never thought Jungkook was a hot piece of ass before?” Maya arches his brow, giving you a look of disbelief which makes you flustered.

“No!” you exclaim without even thinking about it. But she gives you the look which makes you shift in your seat. “Okay, he was hot and I was completely aware of that. I have a pair of eyes, alright?”

Maya smirks in response.

“But I saw it differently. He was my best friend and I never imagined doing anything even close to–he was like my brother.”

“Oh, so he's not like your brother anymore?” she teases causing you to groan.

“That would be weird if I said he is considering…”

“Ah, considering he fucks you now. I get it.”

You glare at her, looking around to check if somebody has heard her but luckily, no one seemed to be weirded out. Thank god you chose the table in the far corner. Maya really is like a female version of Taehyung sometimes. Them and their big mouths.

“It's weird. We have–we have sex together but in other moments it's like nothing has changed. I think that's why it works between us. We have sex but then we tease each other, and go back to being best friends. I know it sounds weird but–”

“No, it doesn't. I get that. It's good that you guys don't feel weird.” she agrees.

“I trust no one like I trust Jungkook. I seriously can't imagine doing this with anyone else. I know he would never use me and I do feel comfortable with him.”

Maya studies your face for a moment and just when you start to feel weird, she smirks at you. “You're so whipped.”

You gasp, “No, I am not!” you argue.

“Whipped for his dick at least.” she continues while your cheeks feel like they're on fire.

“ Stop !”

“Hey, I'm supporting you!” she exclaims, leaning closer to you as she whispers. “Get that dick, girl.”

You hide your face with your hands, not knowing whether to laugh or cry in horrification as Maya laughs at your distressed state.

“I told you this before. I don't blame you. Jungkook looks like he can fuck well.” Oh, she has no idea.

“Maya!” you laugh, her lips stretching to a big smile as she shrugs.

“What, I'm just honest!” she continues to laugh. “I don't think you would do this with him if he couldn't fuck you properly.”

At least she lowers her voice as she says this but you're still mildly mortified you're talking about this at a public place. Luckily, there's no one around you and that brings at least some kind of relief. Not that you care if some stranger hears that you get fucked properly on daily basis. But still, this is the first time you're experiencing this and you're actually talking about yourself, rather than listening to someone else gushing about their sex life.

“Oh, you have no idea.” you mutter which catches her attention as she blinks through her long eyelashes with a curious gaze. “I've never had such amazing sex with anyone else. I didn't have many partners to begin with, but I still can compare it with my exes. No one even comes close to… Jungkook.”

Maya squeals in excitement, stomping her feet excitedly under the table with her fists tucked under his chin. “Tell me more!”

You give her a look of amusement, shrugging. “I don't know what else to say. Jungkook ruined me for anyone in the future. I'm genuinely scared of that, Maya.”

“Scared?” she questions, noticing the way your voice drops.

“What if my future boyfriend won't be as good in bed? I know sex is not everything but fuck, with Jungkook… I really hope there's someone else with that stamina and skills.”

“Hm, I had a fair share of exes,” she says. “I can really tell the difference.”

“No, don't say that!” you whine.

“Listen, Jungkook might be God between the sheets and all, but if you're having sex with someone you're in love with… it's just different. Obviously, you must have the spark with them in bed too. But if it's mind-blowing in bed, plus you love that person, nothing can compete with that.”

You hate how you automatically think about Jungkook and Kiko, wondering if he sees sex with his ex like that too. It's not like anything Maya said is not true. It does make sense, but you've never really dwelled on it before. But now that she brought it up, you hate yourself for thinking about his previous sex relationship with his ex.

“I've never felt with anyone like I feel with Joon. The sex, oh my god, I never thought it could get better and trust me, my previous ex was a beast.”

You snort, covering your mouth with your palm as her face brightens. You can't even think about Namjoon and sex in one sentence. You feel like it's a sin but clearly, Maya doesn't mind to get explicit about her own sex life with her fiancé.

Luckily, the waiter comes to grab your empty glasses when she finishes her sentence. You both order another drink plus a cheesecake as a desert. Caramel one for you, raspberry for Maya. Just when you think she's done with this topic as the kind waiter brings you your desert, she digs into her cheesecake as she bluntly says.

“Have you guys tried anal? You should.” she says silently.

You inhale the cake in your mouth, causing you to cough furiously as Maya tries to hide her laugh. What the hell?

“It's not for everyone but if you're prepared well, it's actually very nice.”

“Maya, seriously?” you deadpan, lowering your voice as she laughs. You don't mention Jungkook hinting at this particular topic a few times. Now that you're thinking about it, you haven't heard him bringing it up in a long time.

“Hey, why so shy now? Miss ' Jungkook fucks me so good '?” she mocks you jokingly, a laugh escaping your mouth as you kick her shin under the table.

“I'm not sure if I'm interested in that… particularly.”

“You're missing out, but you do you.” she sings out as you roll your eyes.

“I would never peg Namjoon as…” you trail off, making a weird face as Maya laughs at the sight in front of her.

“Girl, he looks innocent okay? I'll admit that but when it comes to sex… he's anything but innocent.”

“I feel weird hearing this.” you comment, making her laugh again.

“Okay, then. What have you and Jungkook tried? If you're comfortable talking about this, of course.”

Thank god this place is clearing out.

Not only has Jungkook managed to give you some indescribable orgasms, the best you've ever experienced so far, but he has also shown you so many new things. And with what happened recently, the most memorable thing right now is very clear to you.

“We… um, we tried–recently, for the first time we had sex without–”

“Oh my!” she gasps. “It's great, isn't it? I don't want to see condoms anymore.”

You cackle at that, slowly shaking your head. It's different with her. Her and Namjoon are in a relationship, fuck they're getting married soon!

“It doesn't matter. It was a one time thing. It won't happen again.” you dismiss her as her smile drops.

“Damn,” Her shoulders slouch as if this information somehow affects her. “I admire your responsibility. I shouldn't admit this but I wasn't so responsible in the past. I wasn't dating some of the guys too. Obviously, I trusted them and we were exclusive. I'm not proud of this but sometimes we just couldn't control ourselves.”

Oh god. You're already having a hard time thinking about having sex with condoms. Not that it's amazing either way, Jungkook is amazing at this but the feeling of– fuck .

“Maya, girl, you're not helping.” you nervously chuckle as she giggles.

“Has he…?” she trails off, making a gesture with her hand which has your cheeks heating up and eyes widening.

“No!” you exclaim. “No,” you add more quietly. “We didn't risk that. I was already close to shitting my pants like what if.”

Maya hums, watching you as you nervously trace the rim of your glass.

“Is it… how does it feel? I've never…” you admit, cheeks flushing as Maya gives you a comforting smile, silently telling you there's nothing to be shy or ashamed about.

Clearly, she has more experience in this field and considering she has a fiancé, you really doubt they have protected sex which she actually confirmed herself just a minute ago.

“I've heard it's different for every woman. Some don't feel it, some do. It depends on many factors. I have to admit I experienced that with another guy before too, not only with Joon… but lemme tell you it was freaking good every time.”

You mentally whine, trying to get that idea out of your mind. Jungkook knew what he was doing when he pulled out. You also never even discussed the possibility of him cumming inside and deep down, you know it's better this way that it never happened. You can't entertain this idea for any longer, no matter how this has been your sexual desire too. You only came out clean trying to have raw sex. You never mentioned the next part, already feeling like what you were asking of him is enough as it is.

“I was more irresponsible at this than you. Honestly, I don't know what I would do if I ended up knocked by some guy that wasn't even my boyfriend. I was wild back then. But many people do this. I really doubt most people that aren't even in a relationship have protected sex. As long as everyone's clean of course.”

That's true. You heard many of your friends back home talking about this. It's one of the reasons why you've always been responsible about this. They were having sex with their boyfriends back then, all of them were clean so the only problem was the risk itself. And you're not talking about the risk of catching STDs or something.

“You're on birth control, right?”

“Yeah.” you confirm.

“It's worth the try, trust me.” Maya shrugs. “You said you trust Jungkook. You're exclusive and you're having the sex of your life with him. Just saying.”

“I don't know. I don't even know how he would feel about it.” you mutter, almost whining at the thought. No, no, no. You can't be thinking about this. Silly Maya and her sex experiences.

“Trust me, guys love it.”

You shut your mouth, slowly shaking your head.

“Yeah, but Jungkook…” you trail off, hinting at what happened to him. You never talked about it with Maya but she knows, most likely from Namjoon. Everyone in the group knows by now, they just don't talk about it. Probably not wanting to make Jungkook uncomfortable, plus there's no reason for them to talk about it. It's none of their business.

“That happens once. It doesn't have to happen again, Jungkook knows that Y/N.” Maya says softly, “I understand why you guys would be hesitant and it's totally up to you. I'm just speaking out of my own experiences.”

“Yeah…” you mutter, taking a long sip of your second mojito. “We're arguing at the moment anyway. The last thing I want is to think about sex with him.” You don't like arguing or fighting with him. Sex is the least of your worries right now.

“Oh, you guys will make up, trust me.” she muses with a knowing look that makes you playfully roll your eyes. “Anyways, I'm excited for the weekend. We're leaving in two days. It's my first time going with you guys! What should I pack?”

The rest of the hour is spent with you talking about the weekend, though you can't help but feel nervous each day it gets closer.

Yoongi hasn't bailed on you. Surprisingly.

You don't think you've ever wanted to see him more than when you had spotted him waiting for you in front of his apartment building. Even when he bluntly ignored your greeting and insisted on going with his car instead. Swallowing down the offense once he eyes your vehicle, you're forced to put your stuff in his car.

Not that information of where Yoongi lives now changes things. However, it does feel odd to know such personal information about him, especially when he has remained mysterious to you to a certain level. You think you know him – not all of him that's for sure – but you don't know much. You're both not the type to talk about casual stuff. That's definitely weird.

Once you get inside the car, you complain saying you've already refueled your car but it gets ignored by Yoongi. To be honest, the road to the camping area is a little on the bumpier side and Yoongi's car is more suitable for it. You don't tell him that though, handing him some cash for the fuel rather disheartedly.

He remains his usual grumpy self, barely saying anything other than telling you to turn on the GPS and put the location there. You try to tell him more about the trip, feeling too awkward to just sit there for a few hours with zero communication. But soon enough, Yoongi tells you to shut up and turns up the volume of the radio.

Annoying dick.

You remind yourself, you're thankful for his presence either way. You really thought he would bail on you at the last minute.

You make a short stop at a gas station, Yoongi complaining he needs caffeine if he has to put up with your ass for the rest of the weekend. Not getting discouraged or letting his words get to you, you offer him a sarcastic smile as you send him a flying kiss.

Not commenting when he brings you a coffee too, you silently thank him. You wanted to tease him about it, but the look he gave you warned you not to. After all, you don't want to piss him off.

“Thanks for coming with me.” you mutter with a straw in your mouth, dodging Yoongi's eyes as soon as they set on you.

He has decided to sit outside at one of the tables for whatever reason — to be honest you stopped listening as soon as he opened his mouth to complain. But hey, you've kept your mouth shut for the sake of both of you.

“Hm? I didn't quite catch that.”

Even without looking at him, you can tell from his tone that he has definitely caught that and he's just being a menace. Giving him a look, you see his brows raised feigning innocence which makes you roll your eyes.

“I said thank you for coming with me,” you repeat slowly, emphasizing every word which makes him lean back in approval. “It's not like you're doing this for free,” you mutter, catching his glare before you add. “But I appreciate it regardless.”

“I'm already regretting it.” he mutters back.

“Well, you're here, aren't you?” you retort, fixing your sharp tone. “Let's just enjoy it. Everything is gonna be fine and fun.”

You do sound like you're trying to convince yourself rather than him. He keeps his eyes on you for a moment longer, probably thinking the same thing but luckily, he doesn't comment on it as he ushers you to stand up so you can leave.

The rest of the drive is spent in silence, your own nerves getting to you as you slowly start regretting going. Why, though? Because of Jungkook and your stupid argument? That's not a reason for you not to enjoy the weekend you've been excited about. Sure, it's not under the best conditions but still. Of course, you know you will not be able to enjoy it when you and Jungkook aren't on good terms at the moment. There's tension and an unspoken argument you should talk about. Maya was right. You're both stubborn and you don't plan to be the first one to crawl to him.

Not necessarily. Depends how he's going to act.

With each minute and the scenery you're starting to recognize, you consider asking Yoongi to make a u-turn and drive you back home. He would surely be happy. But you don't do that. Not even when it seems like everyone is already here, unpacking and sorting things that need to be taken care of before you can enjoy the proper camping. Jungkook's car is parked there, an awful reminder of him driving your friends.

After the little show you made before leaving Taehyung's place, Taehyung himself checked on you to make sure you really are going to get here by yourself. Petty you responded yes, you're going with Yoongi and Jungkook can drive his new friend in his fancy car. And yes, you worded it out like this.

When you step out of the car, a set of greetings are thrown at you as Maya excitedly waves from the distance while she seems to be helping Namjoon set up their tent. Even Hoseok greets you with a friendly smile along with Jin, both of them informing you they're about to cook a meal since it takes time to set up the grill and prepare the meat.

Their curiosity and attention is shown though, looking at Yoongi as all of them greet him friendly once you introduce him as your friend. You ignore the side glance Yoongi gives you and you hold yourself back from slapping his back. Luckily, even though he seems to be his usual grumpy self, he greets them back and listens to everyone as they introduce themselves to him.

During all of this, all the breath is sucked out of you when Jungkook comes out of the parked caravan, holding a pack of coal in his hands. He looks up, obviously acknowledging the sudden and increased commotion and additional presence. The moment your eyes meet, you're not sure how to react and there's not really a space for you to do so because much to your shock, Jungkook looks away. He fucking looks away after two seconds of glancing at you before he bluntly ignores your presence.

Everyone seems to be too busy to even notice that awkward interaction, or the lack of, yet you still feel embarrassed and pissed by the way he just acted. And it's like the world mocks you because behind Jungkook is Ester, getting out of the caravan with packs of meat in her hands as Jungkook helps her. You watch their interaction as she shyly smiles at him, thanking him for his help as he smiles back at her and puts the packs down onto the small table prepared for Jin and Hoseok.

They're already getting to work, surprisingly engaging Yoongi in a conversation as it seems he's helping them with cooking. Mentally fuming, you consider asking him for help but you know he would just ignore you or worse.

“That one is yours.” Taehyung informs you, pointing at the unpacked tent tossed on the ground before he focuses on setting up theirs. He starts cursing while Jimin clutches to his stomach, laughing at Taehyung's distress.

Glancing around, you find Jungkook and Ester building a tent together. You're not sure how he sorted out their tent situation and with whom she's sharing it. Not that you care.

Watching them setting it up makes your blood boil and you force yourself to look away with a clenched jaw. Not only do you see them right in front of you, you're left all alone with no help. You're not totally incompetent, so you get to work – mentally cursing at Yoongi for not even caring about helping you, not that it surprises you. At least it seems he's getting along with the guys.

After a few minutes, it seems like you're doing a good job but you're not quite sure what step to do next. Sighing under your breath, you toss one of the poles on the ground.

“Need help?”

Looking up, you find Jungkook with two bottles of sparkling water, holding them in one hand, tattooed fingers wrapped around its neck.

The tone he uses is cold and it's enough for you to feel too prideful to accept his shitty attempt to help you.

“No.” You respond with the same tone, looking away.

“Fine, suit yourself.”

Your jaw drops to the floor. You watch him walking away, joining Ester in front of their ready tent they've set up together as he hands her the bottle of water. Fucking–

You did tell him no. He didn't even greet you and now he tried to help you? If that can even be considered as helping you because his attempt was surely poor.

“Do you need help? Maya said you're struggling.” Namjoon asks, standing next to you as he shoots you a dimpled smile as you glance at Maya who's setting up their sleeping bags.

She shoots you a thumbs up with a big grin as you put your lips into a thin line. “Yes, thank you.”

Namjoon has your tent ready in less than five minutes, you've let him do his own thing since it seems like you're getting in way more than helping. Thanking him, you finally join the others while he goes to help struggling Taehyung and Jimin.

It's when Jungkook and Ester go fetch the water together, someone already gets curious even though they must've been informed about her coming too. “Are the two of them dating?” Jin asks curiously, flipping the beef.

“What? No, they're just friends.” Taehyung answers, giving you a glance which you bravely ignore, equally as Jimin's side glance.

“Really? For how long? I've never seen her before.” Jin wonders loudly as this time, he looks at you completely oblivious to the argument you and Jungkook had, clearly asking the question since you're his best friend.

“For like five minutes?” you mutter pettily, hearing Taehyung snort as Jimin nudges him.

Your little remark catches Jin's attention as he looks up again, giving you a weird look just as Hoseok does the same. You clear your throat, swallowing down the embarrassment at your obvious jab.

“Just recently.” Taehyung tries to rescue you. Luckily the guys redirect their attention elsewhere and the topic of Jungkook's new friendship is no longer discussed.

Much to your surprise, Yoongi seems to be getting along with Hoseok the most. The two of them have been talking for hours, in fact, you're not quite sure if you've seen Yoongi talking this much. Even his grumpy mood seems to go aside as you're a witness of his grin or anything that's not a frown or a glare. At least he's enjoying his time here. Not that you're not but things feel weird with Jungkook right there when you're successfully ignoring each other.

If any of them noticed it, and you know they did, they don't question it.

“I see you still haven't talked.” Maya says after you've finished having a quick bite.

Taehyung just proposed to go to the lake to cool down, since the heat seems to not be coming down even with the sun slowly setting. You and Maya are inside the caravan for some privacy as she walks around the corner in a bikini. You're still wearing your clothes, wondering if you even want to get into the water.

“No.” you confirm, looking away as she gives you a pitiful gaze with a pout.

“Maybe you should talk to him.”

Your head snaps in her direction, causing her to chuckle as she puts her hands up in surrender. Sighing, you relax as you scratch your cheek. “I'll just enjoy my time here.”

“You better start because you've been grumpy since you came here.” Maya signs out, cackling when you toss her shirt at her.

In the distance, you can already hear others laugh followed by water splashing. “Wait up for me. I'll be right back.” you tell her, snatching your swimsuit as she salutes you, shooting you another smirk.

The white swimsuit you've chosen this time is pretty casual, not revealing too much but still wraps your figure nicely. The top of your breasts are shown but besides that, it's pretty decent. You didn't make the same mistake like the last time, forgetting to pack one and you put it in your bag just in case. You're glad you did.

You don't necessarily feel nervous about wearing a swimsuit in front of the guys, but there is something sitting in the pit of your stomach when you look at yourself in the mirror, trying to see if anything is peeking out. This is the first time they will see you wearing it. It's not a big deal. You're not insecure about your body, even though it depends on the situation. Regardless of that, you don't show it off. There haven't been many opportunities for Jimin and Taehyung to see you in one. You don't count Jungkook since he has seen you naked, which can't be compared to wearing a freaking swimsuit or bikini.

It does feel slightly weird to come out of the caravan revealing more skin. Maya on the other hand looks completely unbothered. Maybe you should take her as an example. She's showing more skin than you do and she doesn't look as if she cares about anyone.

Like you said, it's not about insecurity but knowing you're revealing yourself to them more than ever. Having their eyes on you and all that… You're being silly. They're your friends and you know they're no perverts. The problem is in you but you decide not to pay attention to it any longer, the heat slowly killing you as you can't wait to get into the water.

“You're not coming?” you ask Yoongi, finding him still helping Jin and Hoseok with the cooking.

You catch their attention, their eyes respectively moving back to their task as they start discussing something relevant to food.

“Not a chance.” Yoongi replies, scrunching his nose as he looks at the nearby lake.

Chuckling at his evident displeasure, you don't comment on it but still ask. “You're gonna be fine here?”

He stares for a moment, “Yeah, surprisingly your friends aren't that bad.” he replies shamelessly and you gasp, ready to scold him about his impoliteness because there's no way Seokjin and Hoseok haven't caught that.

But much to your shock, they cackle at Yoongi's remark. “Yah, be good to us!” Jin says jokingly while Hoseok laughs while you stare at them dumbfounded. They act like they've been friends for years.

Giving them a side glance, you consider this conversation done as you join Maya who's been waiting for you. You both walk toward the lake, seeing the rest of the group already there. What makes your breath hitch is not the amount of naked chests and abs you get to see – even though that's a sight to see – it's none other than Jungkook himself. He's in the water that's reaching up to his waist. His black hair wet as he shakes his head, droplets of water flying around him before he brushes his fingers through it. His tattooed arm is on full display as you swallow dryly, slowly averting your gaze to Maya who's gawking just as much as you do.

“Well fuck.”

“Maya.” you frown, her eyes slowly and not very willingly shifting to you.

“What,” she mutters. “Joon, baby!” she calls out to Namjoon who's getting out of water, grinning at his girlfriend.

You raise a brow at her when she glances at you with a grin.

“What, he would understand. He’s my boyfriend and I love him .”

She rushes to Namjoon as he hugs her, wetting her dry skin as she squeals his name and lets him attack her with kisses all over her face. Cute . Hand in hand, they both get to water together as the loving couple is in their own world. Great .

Stepping closer and taking a good glance at your surroundings, you spot Ester sitting on a towel still in her clothes and a book on her lap. She's not reading though, looking at the guys with a tiny smile. A bucket hat shields her face and head from the heat.

Seeing her like this, alone makes you feel bad for her. You know your stupid annoyance and jealousy is not her fault. God, you're such an idiot. You're close to dropping to your knees and apologizing to her, that's how desperate you're starting to feel. From the looks of it, she doesn't seem to know about what happened between you and Jungkook which makes you feel better. You would feel like the biggest asshole if she knew.

“Are you not going?” you ask softly, catching her attention as she sees you pointing at the lake.

“Ah, no. I didn't bring a swimsuit but it doesn't matter. I'm not a big fan of water anyway.” She smiles warmly.

You're not sure if that's a lie or not. Apart from Jungkook whom she's friends with, she obviously knows Taehyung and Jimin but they're not very close, she's here with strangers. Not just any woman would be comfortable wearing a swimsuit in front of others when this is her first time meeting them.

“You sure? We could borrow you a shirt or something.” you propose, her face showing you gratitude as she gives you a tiny giggle.

“No, it's alright. I can't swim, don't want to risk it. But maybe I'll dip my toes in later. This heat makes my skin melt.”

You chuckle, nodding in understanding. For some reason, you still linger around. “Are you…” She looks at you again, tilting her head up in curiosity. You clear your throat before offering her an unsure smile. “Are you having fun so far?”

“Oh, yes!” she beams happily. “Everyone is so nice to me. I'm happy to be here. Thank you for letting me join.”

Your stomach drops and your smile falters, the corners of your lips almost shaking. Idiot, idiot, idiot. You're so mad at yourself. She's such a nice girl and here you are, feeling like a total dick because you made a scene about her joining you. Couldn’t she be a bitch? It would certainly make things easier for you.

“Of course.” you feign a smile, your voice tiny.

“Oh!” She lets out, patting the space around her as she searches for something until she finds it. “I've got sunscreen here. Do you wanna borrow it?”

You mentally groan at her kindness. “Thank you, that would be great. I forgot mine in the bag.”

She hands it to you, grabbing her book as you stare at her for a moment, the corners of your mouth threatening to turn downwards at your own stupidity. You start applying it, starting with your legs and you do that for a while until your name is called behind you. Turning around, you find Yoongi walking toward you with a displeased expression. You almost want to laugh at how grumpy he suddenly looks.

“They've sent you guys this to drink.” Oh, right . A pack of bottles of water in his hand.

“Aw, you came all the way here to give us these?” you tease him, staring at him as he puts the pack on the ground as he shoots you an annoyed expression.

“Stop annoying me.” he grumbles and turns around to leave but you stop him.

You hear some water splashing again, along with Jimin's contagious laugh but you grab the sunscreen again and shove it in Yoongi's direction. It all seems to be bad timing because just as you're opening your mouth, Jungkook walks in your direction, staring at the grass beneath his feet.

“Can you apply this on my back?”

Just as you ask this, Jungkook's head lifts up and he's literally two meters away from you as he stops next to Ester. Your eyes meet for a split second but you quickly glance at Yoongi, finding him frowning at your request and the sunscreen in your hand. Meanwhile Jungkook reaches for his own towel that you've failed to notice before. He runs it over his hair to dry them off as he wipes the droplets of water off his forehead.

Yoongi's eyes shift between your hand and eyes. “Do I really have to?”

You're gonna kill this man.

“Yes.” you say through clenched teeth, shoving it to his chest as he shifts backwards a little. Then his eyes fall behind you, undoubtedly staring at Jungkook before his lips curl into a tiny smirk.

Yoongi motions for you to turn around and you do, right met with Jungkook's eyes as he shamelessly stares at your face. You're so surprised that you momentarily freeze on the spot before you shake yourself out of it.

“You good?” Jungkook asks Ester, both of them having a conversation right next to you and Yoongi as he starts applying the sunscreen on your shoulders.

“Yes! Thank you again for inviting me. This place is so peaceful, this is definitely better than just hanging out in Seoul.” she smiles which makes Jungkook chuckle in return. But he has the audacity to stare you dead in the eyes right after.

You know what he's doing. He knows you heard her.

“Trouble in paradise?” Yoongi whispers into your ear as you mildly flinch.

“Fuck off.”

“I will take that as a yes,” he muses behind you which makes you roll your eyes. “Your boyfriend is not so secretive with the glares.”

“Shut up.”

You both know Jungkook doesn't like him. Actually, they don't like each other especially after their last encounter which you're glad didn't end up with a fist fight. It seems like Yoongi finds it amusing. He is a little shit after all, maybe he's enjoying this more than you thought.

“Ow, don't be so harsh!” you suddenly scold the man behind you when he slaps the sunscreen into your skin. He's not very tender with it.

“I thought you liked it harsh .” he jokes, pinching your hip but that's the least of your worries when your eyes fall automatically on Jungkook. What the hell is Yoongi doing?

He glares the shit out of Yoongi, tossing his towel on the ground not too tenderly either which makes Ester surprised.

“Can you two take it somewhere else?” he questions, eyes dark even under the bright sunlight. His tone has an edge to it, though he still makes it sound as if he's asking the most casual thing.

You can't seem to react, too stunned to speak.

“No, we're done here.” Yoongi muses, turning you around as he hands you the sunscreen back. He shoots you a wink before he retrieves back and walks back to the camping space.

You thank Ester for her sunscreen, putting it on her beach bag as she smiles at you, clearly sensing the weird atmosphere in the air but she tries to not react.

“Is he your boyfriend?” she asks innocently suddenly, asking timidly as if she's scared her head is going to be bitten off.

Before you can answer, not hiding your disgust and surprise, Jungkook scoffs under his breath which makes you frown. “Do you have a problem, Jungkook ?” you say his name with an attitude which makes him rub his finger under his nose as he scoffs again.

He faces you with a straight face, running his hand over his hair again. You ignore him, ignoring the handsome motherfucker as you turn to Ester and give her your sweetest smile. “No, he's just my friend.”

Glancing at Jungkook again, you find him giving you an amusing expression. Fucker . You both know Yoongi isn't exactly your friend. You're not even sure how you should categorize him other than your co-worker. He finds it all amusing. He lives for your pettiness because you both know it was the reason why you invited him in the first place. But Jungkook has to give it to you. You've managed to convince him.

“What?” you ask in a deadpan manner at Jungkook. “Actually, no. Don't answer that. If you have any problem, take it somewhere else.” you feign the sweetest smile, not hiding your face from him when it drops as you make your way to the lake.

You can feel Jungkook's glare burning your back. It's safe to say it burns more than the sun above you.

Despite your previous interaction with Jungkook, you're trying to enjoy your time here as much as you can. It's tough, the whole situation sits bitterly in the back of your mind and whatever you do, it's just right there . Just like he is. You can't exactly avoid him, it's impossible since you're on this trip together. Whenever you look, he is right there. It's even tougher to ignore his presence, but you two do it successfully and minus the weird stares you get from your friends, nobody seems to question the tension between you and him.

All of you get called to eat after the fun at the lake. The talking never stops, it's almost impossible with this many people and you're glad for that. No attention is turned to you and Jungkook, so it helps with all the embarrassment of them having to witness you two ignoring each other.

“Do you guys know the gender?” Hoseok asks Seokjin, lips pursed as he munches on the food they prepared.

Seokjin just ended a call with his wife a few minutes ago. She was kind enough to say hi to everyone when he put her on speaker. That's what has sparked the conversation of their soon to be changed life.

“Ah, so,” Jin sits upright as he wipes his mouth with a napkin. “Jia's cousin was pregnant and they told her she's expecting a boy. Turned out to be a girl in the end,” he chuckles as do some of you. “We've known the gender for a while, we just didn't reveal it. In case–you know. It's silly but yeah.”

“Okay, I know shit about babies let alone pregnancies. But aren't those scans pretty accurate?” Taehyung asks with a full mouth, not even looking at Jin as he stares into his plate, too hungry to engage himself in this conversation more. You hide your smile.

“I'm more interested in how you know about this.” Jimin teases, laughing when Taehyung flips him off effortlessly.

“Yeah, they are accurate most of the time but there are cases when it's mistaken.” Jin answers casually. “Anyway, we're expecting a little boy.”

The reaction is not what you would see if more women would be around. It's actually funny how the guys stay casual about it, some of them slightly gasping before nodding while the others just congrats. There are no squeals of happiness and excitement you see amongst women and the whole moment is amusing to you. Yet, you can feel they're happy for Jin in their own way as they congratulate him with wide and warm grins.

“Do you have any names?” Namjoon asks, engaging himself in the conversation as he puts more food into his mouth.

“No. It's so fucking hard to name another person.” Jin whines a little, laughing at his despair as some of the guys join.

“You'll find the one when the time comes, Jin.” Namjoon assures him, squeezing his shoulder in support as the older smiles before he takes a sip of his beer.

Namjoon takes the topic of conversation elsewhere as he asks about everyone's plans, not forgetting to mention he wants to go, of course, hiking. Apparently he has found a new spot and he would like to check it out tomorrow preferably. He asks who wants to join and you have to bite back a grin when Yoongi silently scrunches his nose, remaining silent as Hoseok, Jimin, Jin and Jungkook along with Ester agree to go. Maya watches him admirably, smiling at him because everyone most likely finds him and his love for nature adorable. Either way, he likes to stay active by walking long paths and mountains which can't be said about Yoongi and Taehyung.

Either way, Taehyung likes to stay active in a different way and mountains can't give it to him. The last time you remember when you went hiking on last year's trip, he kept complaining along with you.

Seokjin goes to grab another beer for himself, silently excusing himself from the group. You do the same thing when Hoseok mentions something about snacks and you offer to go. He smiles at you in gratitude before he complains about the heat, fanning his face with his cap.

“Get me one too, yeah?” Yoongi mumbles to you when you pass him, angling his head while he stays seated.

“Get one yourself.” you reply, wanting to cackle when you see his little glare. Snickering, you poke the side of his head and happily jump away when he goes to slap your hand, frowning because he doesn't succeed.

You both know you're going to get him the beer anyway.

When you're inside the caravan, you find Seokjin opening the fridge as he pulls out a full six pack of beer. You exchange little smiles as you go gather the other things.

“Are you having fun?” Jin asks, filling the silence as he sets the beer on a small counter, showing no interest in leaving.

“Yeah, don't I look like it?” you chuckle, causing him to do the same.

There's a bit of silence while you rummage through a cabinet, grabbing some snacks for Hoseok not knowing which ones he specifically wants. You get one of each, some of the guys will want to share it for sure.

“So… Yoongi,” he starts, chuckling when he sees you looking up at him, raising a brow in question.

“Yeah?”

“Interesting guy.”

That causes you to straighten up. “Did he say something? God, I'm gonna kill him if he was rude to you or–”

“No, no,” Seokjin assures you, rubbing his nose as he chuckles deeply. “He's actually nice.”

That makes you snicker and you try to hide it but there's no point. Seokjin's eyes are on you and you're pretty sure his ears are completely fine too. The look of amusement on his face is enough to let you know he has heard and seen.

“Is he your friend?”

Is he? You don't know yourself. Well, he's here but that doesn't make him a friend, does it? You still can't believe you've managed to convince him to come. It's not for free though. You can't forget that and fuck, you don't want to think about the next two months and what is expected of you.

“... yeah.”

Seokjin snorts loudly, clearing his throat to collect himself. “That didn't sound convincing.”

“What do you want me to say?” you laugh, “We work together.”

“Oh, yeah he mentioned that.”

That makes your brows raise in curiosity. “Mentioned?”

“Yeah, we sort of played detectives on him with Hobi,” he jokes, “We were curious.”

He has a headband to keep his long dark hair off his face. It sharpens his brows and features.

“Don't worry, he was lovely.”

“That's… hard to believe.” you mutter more to yourself.

“So, he's not your boyfriend then?”

Your eyes almost jump out of their sockets as you abruptly clear your throat. “Oh my god, no. Why would you think that?” you exclaim, causing him to laugh at your distressed face.

You actually know why. It certainly made some of them wonder if Yoongi truly is your friend only. Little do they know. It actually amuses you right after it disgusted you though.

“Sorry, I just wondered. I hope you don't find me too nosy or annoying. He's actually nice, we had a good chat with him.”

You ignore the compliments about the most annoying person you know, shaking your head slightly to assure him that it's okay. “No, he's just a friend.”

“And Jungkook doesn't like him?”

That makes your eyes snap to him abruptly, raising your brows before you breathe out a shaky laugh. “Why would you think that?”

“Come on, it doesn't take much to notice it.”

Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. The face you make causes him to widen his eyes in a mere panic, shaking his hands as if to stop your embarrassment.

“I just meant they never talk. Not that it matters, shit, forgot I even said anything.”

You laugh out loud, “It's fine. They're not buddies, that's true.”

He nods in understatement. ”Well, I think he's a great guy so far. Bring him next time too.”

Yeah, like that will ever happen.

You shoot him a smile though, “Sure.”

The door of the caravan opens, Taehyung's fluffy hair is the first thing you see. “What's taking you guys so long?” he complains before even properly shutting the door.

“We're coming.” You roll your eyes.

“Are you gossiping here without me?”

Seokjin grabs his stuff, brushing past Taehyung but not before patting his shoulder mockingly. “We would never dare to do that, Tae.” And then he leaves, leaving Taehyung with an amused grin.

“Fucker.” he mumbles.

Laughing a little, you start gathering your things. Since he's here, you might as well use his help. But your friend seems to have a different plan because as you look up, ready to ask him to grab some of the things, you find him leaning against the wall with a smug grin.

“What?” you ask uninterested.

“I get it you and Jungkook haven't talked yet.”

Sighing, you lean your lower back against the provisional counter. “If you take childish remarks as talking, then yes.”

“You're kidding.”

Chuckling, you shake your head. “No. We had a little… I don't even know what to call it, banter? Doesn't sound right… Anyway, it happened when we were at the lake.”

“No way!” he exclaims, “And I missed that?”

Taehyung's grin turns even more cheeky when he sees the look of annoyance on your face. He straightens himself, scratching his temple. Whatever Taehyung thinks about this whole argument between you and Jungkook, he only shows his amusement for it.

“Did Jin ask about Kook?”

“No, not about that specifically. I mean, none of these people are blind, right?”

He snorts silently, “You and Kook are usually very talkative and affectionate, of course they see something's wrong. But hey, at least they're not putting you in a spot, right?”

“It's not any of their business, is it?”

“That's true too.” he hums.

“We talked about Yoongi,” you say after a moment. “With Jin, I mean.”

“Oh,” Taehyung sounds surprised. “He's kinda nice, no? Grumpy for my taste but none of us is perfect.”

That makes you giggle as you nod in agreement. “He does seem to be more… relaxed and talkative than usual.”

“God, can't imagine how he is at work.”

“You don't want to know that.”

You both start laughing. Taehyung is not clueless about your co-worker's specific personality. Not just him, but the three of them had to listen to you complaining about him a few times. You would get so heated up, that in a way it was their source of entertainment.

“Come on, let's go.” Taehyung motions his head toward the door, but not before he goes to you and helps you without you asking for it.

With an appreciative look, you both get out of the caravan and bring the drinks and snacks to the table. Just as you're putting it down, you lift up your gaze finding Jungkook looking sideways as he empties the rest of his beer can. He crumples the aluminum and tosses it to the bag that's intended for trash. The last thing you notice is the way he tongues his cheek, jaw sharp and clenched, before you go back to your seat.

After everyone's stomachs are full, Maya and Namjoon decide to go on a walk and explore the surroundings a little. Politely, they ask if anyone wants to join and they're met with heads shaking. You're sure they wanted some alone time anyway.

You and Hoseok clean the small table and gather all the trash, which he goes to throw away. You've been here for a couple of hours and you've managed to fill up the whole trash bag. Ester helps a little too, before she goes inside the caravan because apparently, the heat is not doing her well. You ignore the moment when Jungkook asks her if she needs anything, attentive and caring as always. You ignore Taehyung's subtle smirk that he barely hides when your glances meet in the midst of it.

And Yoongi?

The man annoys you to the core. Not only has he barely moved since he came here – which wouldn't be that big of a problem at all – but he doesn't even ask if you need help when you go to the car to grab blankets and sleeping bags for the two of you. You're not able to grab everything anyway, leaving you to grab a piece of each. But when you call out his name, ignoring the little frown on his lips, he finally lifts up his ass and walks up to you.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“What does it look like?” you mutter under your breath, already annoyed. “Sorting out our tent?”

The second you say that, it's not the tone you use that causes Yoongi to almost choke on his spit, but it's what you say. Then his expression relaxes and he lets out a humorous chuckle. “Our?”

You raise your brows and give him a duh look. “Yes?” you ask with an equally dumb tone. “Where did you think you were going to sleep?”

“Not with you!” he exclaims, grasping everyone's attention with his overly dramatic reaction and including Jungkook's who's showing something on his phone to Jimin. It's enough that they both look up from the device, undoubtedly hearing Yoongi.

“Feel free to sleep under the bare sky, then.” You shrug your shoulders, dismissing him and the gasp he lets out.

“Are you serious right now?” He grabs your forearm, stopping you in your tracks. “You dragged me here and never told me about this. I thought I had–I don't know, fucking space where I can sleep. Alone.”

“Oh, don't flatter yourself. Is that such a big deal? The tent is big enough for both–”

He lifts his palm up to shush you, currently reliving his life crisis while Jimin timidly approaches the two of you.

“I don't mean to butt in, but there should be one space free in the caravan.”

“What? I thought we're out of tents and space.” Confused is what you are.

“Uh, yeah. There are two single beds in the caravan, Hobi and Ester are staying there. But Ester said she's fine sleeping in a tent if someone wants to sleep inside. Maybe she could share a tent with you?”

Jimin sounds unsure, his attention fully on your expression as you look behind him and find Jungkook staring right back at you. Irritation stirs inside you.

“Caravan sounds better than a tent, anyway.” Yoongi replies.

“Why does she not share it with her friend?” you question instead, fully ignoring Yoongi who carefully eyes you and Jungkook with his sharp eyes. You know Jungkook has heard you, your voice has grown an octave higher and he scoffs loudly enough for you to hear.

“Why don't you share it with yours?” he questions back, your jaw almost on the floor. You catch yourself just at the right time.

“I don't like camping that much.” Yoongi butts in, voice indifferent.

“Why did you come then?” Jungkook presses, clearly showing his inhospitality. This banter causes Jin to stand up, trying to see what's going on while seated Hoseok tugs on his arm.

“To piss you off apparently.” Yoongi shoots right back and you rub your forehead.

“That's not… that's not why he came.” You try to clarify to everyone. Stupid Min Yoongi! Why can't he keep his mouth shut?

“Not apparently, it's pretty clear.” Jungkook talks back and you facepalm yourself, just as Jimin tries to get control of this situation.

“Alright, everyone, let's take a breather. No need for any fights here.”

“I'm not fighting.”

Both of them speak at the same time.

“Let her deal with it, Jimin-ah.” Jungkook says and you can only gape at the audacity.

“Let me deal with it?” you exclaim over Jimin's shoulder, glaring right at Jungkook who literally laughs in your face with that sarcastic grin.

“Yeah. Why should Ester lose her spot because of your friend? You should've arranged it for your friend, just like I did for her.”

Both of you are so fucking petty, but you're not backing down and just as you fume, Jimin squeezes your shoulder to comfort you, but it only does so little.

“Yeah, you've arranged a lot of things.” you sarcastically remark, seeing him stare deadly at you as he clenches his jaw.

“God, you're like kids in a candy store.” Yoongi exhales exhaustedly. “I'm gonna sleep in the fucking tent.” He is genuinely exhausted, despite his vulgarism, his tone is calm and tired. He thinks of this topic to be dealt with, but he doesn't know how stubborn you and Jungkook are. And petty. Childish too, but he probably figured that out by now.

“I'm sure you won't mind that.” Jungkook says, causing Jimin to sigh as you start scoffing loudly, not believing his words. To some, it might be just a remark but you know exactly what he's hinting at. He's making you a payback for your earlier remark. It's back and forth between you.

It makes Jimin clasp his hands tightly. “Thank you, Yoongi. These two can be difficult sometimes.”

Not that Yoongi himself wasn't difficult. If he never said anything about sharing a tent with you, you wouldn't be here and having a glaring contest with Jungkook. And you ignore how fucking hot he looks while being worked up. But all you want is to strangle him.

Yoongi shrugs his shoulders, walking away to join Jin and Hoseok, but you don't see their reaction. Jimin eyes you and Jungkook equally, motioning for Jungkook to come closer. He scoffs but then Jimin says through clenched teeth; “Get here.”

Jungkook glares but listens. Jimin wraps his arms around your and Jungkook's shoulders, pulling you closer to his body. So close that you can smell Jungkook's freaking aftershave and overall scent. It does make you slightly regret opening your mouth. The scent is too nostalgic and it's making you sad.

Jimin forces himself to smile as he inhales a long breath. “I can see how you two are handling this perfectly.”

You tense. He's talking about the conversation you previously had at Taehyung's place.

Jungkook shrugs off Jimin's arm around his shoulders, walking away with his jaw locked in irritation. You realize your own jaw is clenched, ignoring Jimin's burning gaze to the side of your face before his arm loosens up. He walks away, leaving you to your thoughts that don't last too long. You occupy yourself by finishing your previous task, tossing the other blanket and sleeping bag rather aggressively into your tent.

Taehyung comes back from whatever place he was, wearing a new shirt.

“What did I miss?” he asks everyone.

He's met with silence.

Everything and everyone bounces back from the stunt you and Jungkook have pulled. Except the two of you, of course. It might be because they don't want to make things awkward or known , or they simply don't want a trip full of drama. That's where the guilt comes again. The idea of ruining everyone's time here because of your own drama upsets you. What upsets you the most though, is obviously your current relationship with Jungkook.

Ignoring each other has continued right after he walked away as it’s continuing when everyone gathers around the campfire. The mood is positive, alive and even pleasant. It's not different from the last time you were here, and you're sure it's not any different from all the trips they experienced together. There's chattering and laughter, whether it's in a small group or almost everyone, accompanied with more alcohol and food.

The campfire lits your surroundings, keeping you warm as the sun has set a few hours ago and there's a moon above your heads. Therefore you've changed to a pair of old sweats and oversized hoodie, looking similarly to everyone else. You and Maya have been talking alone, letting the guys and Ester have their own conversation. For once, you're glad she doesn't bring up Jungkook again and instead shows you the venue of their wedding. That's what gets your attention for most parts and you're glad from the nice distraction.

At least you don't have to avoid the direction of where Jungkook's sitting, even though his voice always finds you as he hangs out with his friends. You don't want to wonder how it would be if things were okay between you. You would've laughed with him, or would have something to say when he talks about a convenience store snack, one whose name he can't remember but you do.

A group of two always leave to take a shower and do their night routine in the nearby building that's a part of the campsite. You've done it the last time too. It's one of the pros of this place. You get to spend a night or two sleeping outside, while still being able to use their services. It's approximately five minutes of walking, still out of sight though since you're surrounded by nearby trees. It leaves enough privacy for you as a group. There are other campsites where you literally have “neighbors” within a few feet away from each other. You're glad about this spot the guys have found.

Since Yoongi doesn't know this place and literally anyone else could show him, you take it as your responsibility to be the one since you're the one who invited him in the first place. You've known him the longest. It wouldn't be nice to send someone else with him. Not that he seems to care, mindlessly grabbing his small bag of toiletries as you do the same. You're not going to waste the time by waiting for him. You might as well take a shower too.

The walk there is quiet. No words are exchanged. You look for the right words, but you can't find anything. That leaves you to be silent until you reach the medium sized cabin, showing him the men's bathrooms after greeting the elder man at the desk.

Much to your surprise, you're the first one who finishes first. For a moment you wonder if Yoongi has already left. You somehow thought you're going to wait for each other, even though he knows the way back by now. It leaves you curious so you ask the man if he has seen Yoongi leaving. He shakes his head and continues to check through some papers he hides behind the desk. You stay seated at the small rest area with two sofas.

Shortly after, Yoongi comes out with wet hair wearing white shirt and simple black sweatpants. He spots you, not showing any kind of emotion but you would've guessed he's surprised to see you waiting for him.

“Finished?” you question, standing up as he gives you a nod.

Walking outside, you're met with fresh air and luckily for everyone, tonight seems to be warm. The constant silence does make you slightly uncomfortable, or perhaps it's the need to say something. Anything.

“I'm sorry for dragging you here.”

Not sure where that came from, you stare ahead as you can detect his eyes on you. Yoongi is a tough guy to convince about anything. Deep down you're aware that you had a deal and if he truly didn't want to come, he wouldn't agree to it. It's because you look back to the earlier incident and you do feel bad for dragging him into it.

“I am not.” he replies, leaving you wide-eyed as you glance at him.

“You're not?”

“No,” he says simply. “Maybe I'm no fan of nature and camping, but it's nice to get out of the city. Besides, some of your friends are nice.”

You roll your eyes at the emphasis, knowing exactly who he's talking about. You bite the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from saying that Jungkook isn't bad. He is not. He is definitely not a bad person. You know you're the reason why Jungkook was never fond of Yoongi in the first place. He has always had your back, so when he heard you complaining about one specific co-worker that can be extremely rude and grumpy, he was having none of it. Then it's the obvious tension between them.

Both of them don't know when to keep their mouths shut. Not that you're one to talk. It's like they can't help it but get a rise of each other whenever there's a chance. You think it might have to do something with male ego.

“I almost can't believe they're your friends.”

Snapping your head in his direction, he notices your glare without even looking at you as a playful smile plays on his lips. It leaves you huffing in return.

“I guess I'm just embarrassed about earlier.” you continue the conversation, ignoring his way of teasing.

“As you should,” he hums and you gasp. “What? The two of you act like little kids.”

Like he's one to talk! “You were provoking him too, Yoongi. And don't say you didn't because you did and you know it.”

The corner of his mouth twitches. “Maybe.”

You huff out, chuckling at his answer mostly in disbelief. “You two are like kids too.” you mutter.

“Hold on, he's reactive too. He's not afraid to say shit. He's infuriating just as he's hot.”

You start coughing immediately.

“I'm gonna ignore that you just said he's hot.”

Yoongi shrugs with a grin, amused by your reaction and mostly the way your nose twitches.

“Plus, you really are provoking him. I thought you liked it rough ,” you mimic his voice, “Seriously? What were you thinking?”

“I was just messing around!” he exclaims, laughing shortly after.

“It's not funny!” you exclaim back, nudging his side as he barely falters, grin still intact on his lips. “That's not just messing around.” you whine a little.

“Come on, it was worth it. The look on his face.” he continues to joke and you whine again.

“This is not some contest of who pisses off the other more, Yoongi. It's already hard that me and him–” you sigh, “Are not on good terms. I don't want you to get into a fight. You're pushing his buttons.”

“Are you warning me?” he laughs.

“No!” you exclaim, “Jungkook isn't like that .” Aggressive, is what you mean. “But I wouldn't put it past him. You really are pushing his buttons.”

“Didn't he punch your ex before?” He feigns uncertainty, tapping his chin lightly. “That doesn't sound nonaggressive.”

“Because he slutshamed me, I told you that.” you justify with a remember? Tone.

“Anyway,” He dismisses you. “You two should talk. Like adults.”

Trust me, I know.

Surprisingly, he doesn't tease you when he's met with silence that says everything.

By the time all of you sit at the campfire, right after everyone went to clean themselves, you're not even sure what time it is. You've left your phone in one of your bags, not bothering to check any messages knowing there's no one who would contact you. Your family knows you're away during the weekend, therefore they won't call you unless you do. Using your phone while being surrounded by nature and enjoying the weekend from all the hectic noise, crowded places and busy traffic sounds illegal. It's nice to see others not having their noses stuck in phone screens.

It is something you've always appreciated while hanging out with them. Not that you're against using phones, not at all. You've seen Seokjin calling Jia countless times, making sure everything is alright back home and so is she. That you can absolutely understand.

As much as you get a little compulsion to browse through the internet, anything to make you distracted enough to not think about you and Jungkook. You've decided not to do that. There are other ways of not acknowledging him, even though it's been hard.

It seems like everyone has told you to talk to him. You're exaggerating. It was only Jimin… and even freaking Min Yoongi! Well, it's not like you don't know that. You two should really talk and get things right before you ruin this trip, but mostly importantly ruin your friendship. This is not one of the arguments that could possibly break or ruin it. You don't want to think about it because that possibility scares you.

But you're still hurt. Hurt enough not wanting to talk about it right now. Even if it means you and him ignore each other for the rest of the trip. It's not ideal, far from it actually. You've imagined this trip differently. He did too, surely.

Stubbornness does the trick.

So you sit, letting the fire warm your cheeks as you laugh here and there at whatever is said funnily.

“Truth or dare?” Taehyung proposes when you're out of things to talk, having one of his arms lazily draped over his lap. He's wearing shorts, feeling too warm to wear something longer since the alcohol is naturally warming up his body.

Of course he proposes this game. He always does. If it's not truth or dare specifically, it's always something that makes you drink more.

He must be feeling adventurous, considering Hoseok's and Jin's faces are already red. Namjoon had to stop drinking half an hour ago because the alcohol in his system was starting to show up. Maya doesn't care though, she drinks more than her boyfriend, clearly able to hold more alcohol than him. She's giggly and clutches to her boyfriend's side, who showers her with a dimpled smile from time to time.

“Or never have I ever?” he wiggles his brows.

The horrific memories of playing that stupid game makes you open your mouth before you realize. “Hell no.”

Taehyung snickers, clearly amused by the evident aversion. “Then truth or dare?”

No one seems to share the same opinion like you, and you're left disappointed when hums and words of approval and excitement resound around the fire. Taehyung ignores your narrowed eyes and displeasure he sees across the fire, having a good view of it.

“Great!” He's already preparing drinks for everyone, making sure everyone has one in their hand while looking excited for any possible embarrassing moments, or even drama you know he loves. He looks like a little kid on Christmas.

You don't care, stuffing your hands into the pockets of your hoodie as you shift further down your seat. Your cheeks are warm, both from fire and beer you've drank. You're not getting tired which means you're not tipsy or drunk yet.

“Isn't it a game for teenagers?” You hear Yoongi grumble beside you, making you crack a smile. Surprisingly, he still holds his drink and seems to join the game anyway.

Taehyung calls your name, gaining not only yours but everyone's attention. “The beer.” he chirps in, reminding you. You swallow down the annoyance as you lick your lips.

“I'm not playing.” you simply state, ignoring the eyes of others on you. No one here would judge you for not playing some stupid game. You know that. It does feel slightly uncomfortable to feel their eyes on you at this moment, plus there's undeniable surprise and even curiosity in some of them.

“What, why?” Taehyung whines like you – not playing – ruins the entire game.

Well, it might have. You feel like you have a lot of tea to bring to the table. Or fire, if you want to be more accurate. Taehyung can be a little shit though. He knows many things. With him being tipsy, you're not quite sure what he would ask. You've got to be careful around him.

“Because you ask a bunch of shit every time.” you reply casually.

Taehyung's brows raise in a feign offense, knowing something like this wouldn't offend him in the first place. It's the little chuckle you hear from one specific direction, one you've been avoiding for the entire evening. Before you realize it, you're already looking in Jungkook's direction as your gazes meet at the same time. He quickly looks away, clearing his throat as he takes a swig off his beer.

When you look back at Taehyung, he pouts. “You're no fun. Even Yoongi is playing!”

“Is that supposed to make me wanna play?” You quirk your brow at your friend.

“I heard his comment! Yet he's still playing.” Taehyung grins as Yoongi shrugs.

“I'm not boring like she is.”

You gasp, huffing beside him. Taehyung laughs, leaving you alone as the game begins.

“Y/N, truth or dare?” Taehyung asks after a few rounds.

You've had fun, laughed at some ridiculous dares. You've seen Maya licking soju off Namjoon's stomach, leaving him flustered and all red. Jungkook has spanked Seokjin's butt and Jungkook had to do push ups with Ester sitting on his back. The last one didn't exactly leave you laughing for obvious reasons. Ester seemed to loosen up and she giggled all throughout the dare, while Jungkook lifted her weight as if it's nothing.

“I said I'm not playing.” you grumble, pushing back the burp that wants to be let out.

“Come on, just one round.” Hoseok chirps in, nudging you in your shoulder gently as you sigh.

Looking at Taehyung, he gives you a wide smile that makes you roll your eyes. Everyone's in a good mood, not that you aren't, which makes you want to participate at least once. However, it's hard with Taehyung. He's the one asking you a question now. Truth or dare. None of it sounds good to be honest. You're scared of what he might ask.

“Truth.” you answer unsurely.

“Boring.” he sings out, pursing his lips in thought.

“Dare, dare.” You change your mind, not even sure for what reason but there's no going back.

Taehyung is thinking for a moment. That's good. It means he hasn't thought it through and maybe he will come up with something simple and stupid at the same time. But when Jimin who's sitting beside him tries to help him, the man whispers into his ear as he nods.

“Alright,” Taehyung claps his hands together. “Go on a walk with Kook.”

The humorous snort that leaves your mouth is unexpected. “Pass.”

Taehyung narrows his eyes, “It's literally the easiest dare there has been so far. Or would you rather do a body shot off Jimin's body?”

“Dude, why off mine?” Jimin reacts.

Taehyung ignores him. “So?”

“The dare is ridiculous.” you comment.

Even Maya seems interested, nodding at you to accept the dare but you just mentally huff.

“Don't I have any say in it?” Jungkook grumbles, and you feel how your insides clench in annoyance.

It does bruise your ego that he clearly showed he doesn't want to do that. Which is unfair because you've shown it first, you've no right to feel that annoyed because of it.

“No,” Taehyung says simply, “Come on you two. Just ten minutes walk in the woods.”

“In the dark? Have you gone mad?” you exclaim.

“Okay, then I've changed my mind. Lick soju off Yoongi's abs.”

“What makes you think he has abs?”

Yoongi glares at the side of your face as you giggle. “Mean.” You're glad that he doesn't let everyone know that you've seen way more of him.

First of all, you would argue with Taehyung that you've been drinking beer and you're not going to mix a different kind of alcohol. That would leave you sick and there's no need of repetition of you throwing up your guts, like it happened when you were eighteen and had to do it in front of your house, your back then neighbors as your witnesses.

Second of all, you're actually considering it. Anything other than having to spend time alone with Jungkook. Not now.

“I've changed my mind. Licking soju off Jungkook's abs.”

You don't comment anything about Jungkook's abs because you know they are very well there. Taehyung knows that. That little shit.

Trying to stay cool, you let out a humorous laugh, hoping it doesn't sound flustered just like you feel. “You can't keep changing your dare, Tae.”

“That's my final dare. The walk or licking Kook's abs.” He wiggles his brows while Jimin sighs beside Taehyung, obviously not liking Taehyung's second and great idea.

“Maybe you should–”

“So what is it gonna be, love?” Taehyung cuts off Hoseok dismissively.

You appreciate Hoseok's attempt to save you from this awkward hell.

“Just go take a walk. It's not a bad dare.” Maya butts in and you wish she would keep her mouth shut. She's already tipsy, making it sound like the easiest thing in the world.

“What if I don't want to?” Jungkook asks, causing you to snap your eyes to him as Ester sitting beside him awkwardly scratches her brow.

“Yeah, you heard him. He doesn't want to. Not like I want to be alone with him .”

Seokjin sucks in breath, from your peripheral vision Namjoon takes a swing of his beer.

Jungkook scoffs, “Just ask her some shit, Tae.”

“No,” Taehyung says, suddenly frowning as he glares at the two of you. “Raise your asses and go on a fucking walk. Then come back without the attitude and let us enjoy the rest of the fucking night.”

Your jaw is on the floor. The wood in the fire cracks, almost as if it's just as shocked from his stern tone like the rest of you. You would never expect it from him. That surely left things even more tense and awkward, making you awkwardly shift on your spot. You could argue, or snap back at him for talking to you like this. But seeing everyone's eyes on you, you feel like the biggest idiot.

You and Jungkook just managed to show more of your drama to them. Clearly everyone knows.

Sighing, you clear the can of beer before standing up. “I'm not promising anything.”

Taehyung then shoots you a thumbs up. “Just a ten minute walk, you two.” He sounds way softer now. You meet Jimin's eyes and he gives you an encouraging nod.

You walk past Jungkook, turning around when you're out of the circle just to glance at him. He's still sitting, currently having a glare contest with Taehyung before he sighs and stands up abruptly.

He brushes past you, but not before saying; “Let's go.”

And you follow him. Because it seems like the best idea with everyone's eyes attached to your backs.

None of you have taken your phones with you, therefore you're walking deeper into the woods in darkness. You don't tell him to slow down while you trail behind him, trying not to trip over anything. Jungkook just keeps walking and walking, and you don't bother to go beside him, keeping your distance as you stay behind him. You wonder if he's just as annoyed by Taehyung's dare just as you. He's a menace. No, both of them are.

Of course Jungkook is annoyed. His reaction to Taehyung's dare is enough of an answer.

But still, you notice from the corner of your eyes Jungkook briefly glancing behind his shoulder, to see if you're still there. That act makes you purse your lips to hide the little smirk. It makes it even funnier that Jungkook has no idea.

Although, it strokes your ego that he cares enough to check on you. Even if you're both mad and annoyed at each other. Perhaps it's touching too, but you quickly shrug that thought away.

Taehyung has sent you on a ten minute walk. Not only is it ridiculous but it seems like the time is going awfully slow. It hasn't been even five minutes of you and Jungkook alone. The more you and him are alone, the worse you feel about how things are between you at the moment. You're mad at yourself for not wanting to do anything about it. All the emotions are too current. Despite your big mouth and the need to be vocal about your feelings, you don't like confrontations. The damage is done and making this right is not simple. You're aware of Taehyung's intentions and in the end, he's trying to help. But you would appreciate it if they left it up to you and Jungkook. Even if you're both clearly idiots.

Jungkook suddenly stops, leans against one of the trees as he also puts a pause to your current thoughts. It's the first time you truly acknowledge him, looking at him. With the lack of light, you don't avoid him as if he was a plague.

The moon shines above your heads, making some of his features visible. Properly looking at him now, standing just a few feet away, you realize his hair seems to be damp from the shower he took. Just as you and Yoongi came back, he grabbed his stuff and helped Ester just like you did to Yoongi.

After glancing around and staring at the trees surrounding you, he suddenly glances at you too. It's crazy how this is the first time on this trip that you're just looking at each other. Sure, there have been a few glances but they barely lasted a few seconds, eyes mostly filled with negative emotions. But now you just stare.

Clearing your throat silently, you walk up to one of the trees and lean against it as well. Staring at your feet instead when Jungkook silently scoffs under his breath. You act like you haven't heard it, though.

“You do realize why Taehyung sent us here, right?” He suddenly asks, breaking the silence with an edge to his tone.

Glancing to your right and his direction, you're the one who scoffs now. “I'm not stupid.”

Jungkook laughs bitterly. “For fuck sake. Get over yourself. Nobody's saying you're stupid.”

“You're asking me as if I was stupid.” you remark childishly, knowing very well this conversation is not leading anywhere. Not for the better at least. This back and forth seems to not end anytime soon.

He rubs his face, letting out a whine of frustration before he groans. That reaction makes you bothered for some reason and you glare at him.

“You're unbelievable.” he mutters, rubbing his face again. He's frustrated. So are you, but you don't give him the pleasure of showing it.

You stay unbothered, on the outside at least, leaning your arms behind your lower back.

“So, you're not going to talk.” he remarks sarcastically, making you mentally gasp at the entitlement.

“Why the fuck am I supposed to talk first?” you exclaim.

“I don't know,” he exclaims, voice full of sarcasm. “Maybe because you fucking got mad at me because I invited my friend?”

Straight to the point. You give him that.

“Your friend.” you laugh sarcastically under your breath. Pettiness is one of your strong traits. You can't help it.

“Yes, my friend,” he emphasizes. “Or what else is she?”

Your lips stay in a straight line.

“I don't know, has she ever done something to you?” Rubbing the crease between your brows, you press your lips even tighter. “I'm asking you something, Y/N.” he says deeply, pressing even deeper as you shake your head in annoyance.

“Maybe I don't want to give you an answer, genius.”

“You're so fucking unbelievable.” He sounds mad.

“And what about you, huh ?” you ask back, raising your voice.

He pushes himself off against the tree, standing tall and broad, taking two steps before he's standing right in front of you. That makes you straighten yourself as well, arms falling down to your sides before you cross them over your chest.

“What, because I invited a friend?”

“Your five minute long friend.” you mutter, not able to look him in the eyes when he's standing right there. But you feel the glare in his eyes and he surely has his brows furrowed.

His features relax, slowly studying your face in the darkness of the night as he lets out an amused chuckle. “You're jealous.”

“Like the fuck I am!” you deny, knowing well damn he's right.

“You so fucking are.” he laughs, though it lacks of any source of happiness or positivity. He sounds bitter and cold.

“I just don't see any reason why you had to invite her. I thought this was a friend's trip.” you mutter with an attitude, looking back as Jungkook outstretches his arm and leans his palm against the tree you're leaning on.

He's so close. Met with a familiar scent, you wonder if holding your breath would chase away the familiarity it holds.

Jungkook holds his tongue for a moment before he licks his lips and chuckles. “What about you, huh? You invited someone who's not even your friend. How does that make you better?”

He's provoking you and although his words do hold some kind of truth, it only prompts your irritation. It burns through you and makes your jaw clench painfully.

“You know what's the difference between us?” he asks, feigning softness as he inches closer to you. So close that you bump the back of your head against the tree, not able to look away from his dark eyes. His thick brows are furrowed, some of the wet strands dangling over his forehead. “I haven't fucked Ester.”

You visibly gulp at the explicit words.

He leans his head to the side, trying to catch your eyes. You look at him, breath catching in your throat when you notice the close proximity. Your noses are almost touching and the warmness of his breath fans your cheeks.

“I haven't fucked him.” you emphasize the word. You might've hooked up with him, but you didn't go all the way. You're glad you didn't, despite all.

“So what, you only had his cock in your mouth.” he comments, your mouth opening in shock as Jungkook's thumb brushes against your bottom lip.

You shouldn't feel this way. Despite the shock of his so-called bluntness, his proximity just doesn't do any good. Irritation and anger wants to ripple through you, but that's pushed aside as your stomach clenches in anticipation. It's true you don't know what to expect now. You're both clearly still mad at each other. Nothing has been solved and you barely talked. Could this be even considered as talking? All you've done is talk in complete sarcasm and irritation, blaming each other.

“I haven't.” you whisper just as he pulls away his thumb. Shaking yourself out of your moment of vulnerability and daze, you frown. “What does it matter?”

“It matters because he's not your friend. We both know you invited him because you wanted to piss me off.”

He doesn't move an inch. The proximity starts to feel suffocating and you don't know if you want to push him away to catch a breath, or pull him even closer. Which is crazy because you're upset, but if it's the only way to be close to him so be it.

Jungkook has the upper hand, the corner of your lips lifts up as you look at him with mischief in your eyes. “Did it work?”

You could've easily denied it, knowing damn well he would just call you out on your bullshit. And you would continue on your lie, preferably pissing him off even more. It's the disadvantage of knowing each other too well. You both know what strings to pull to annoy each other. Just like what you did by inviting Yoongi.

You're an idiot. You acted upon your feelings, letting the frustration get the best of you. You should've controlled yourself better.

Jungkook frowns, but that's until he breathes out a light chuckle. You stare, eyes meeting in one intense moment as yours dance across Jungkook's face. You can't see the small details on his face but that doesn't stop. You're aware of Jungkook staring, yet you still allow your eyes to drop down to his lips. Fucking weak!

Just as quickly you've looked, you look away at his eyes finding him staring at you. He's fighting back a smirk. “So that's it? No explanation?” he asks amusingly.

“You're so fucking irritating.” you spit through clenched teeth, but that only seems to amuse him more.

“That's rich coming from you.” he hums, poking the inside of his cheek with tongue.

You watch the motion, even as his tongue darts out to wet his lips. Shamelessly staring at them as he sighs, leaning so close that his nose touches your cheekbone. “You're driving me insane.” he mumbles.

He pulls away, just enough to get a view of your face again before he's closer again. His mouth hovers over yours, your breath hitched in your throat as you automatically lean to him. Your bottom lips touch, almost in a kiss but it's so brief that it makes you want to whine. You hold yourself back, growing impatient.

Talking or the previous argument is not on your mind. It's crazy how you can forget about everything, focusing on the lust slowly simmering in the pit of your stomach. Looking at Jungkook, there's no wonder. It doesn't help that there's evident tension. You just want to kiss the idiot, even if it's not a solution at all. You wish it would.

Kiss away that annoying smirk of his, preferably.

It's embarrassing how you lean toward him to connect your lips. You can't help the sensation within your body, kiss him in pure fury that you feel. What's even more embarrassing is how he pulls away his face, sabotaging your kiss clearly. That has never happened. Not under these circumstances.

“You think I wanna kiss you after the stunt you've pulled?” he chuckles coldly, cocking his head to the side as you stare.

Cheeks flaming hot, you look away in distress as you press your hands against his hard chest. Trying to push him away, he doesn't budge. You frown. “Fuck off then.”

He chuckles deeply. “So what's it gonna be… will we talk or you want me to fuck you?”

He what–

You visibly suck in breath, eyes widening as you collect yourself. “You think I wanna fuck you after the stunt you've pulled?” you ask breathlessly, no way sounding as confident and annoying as you planned.

He throws his back, letting out a deep laugh that sounds oddly cold. “Fuck off then,” he cheekily repeats your words, causing you to deepen your frown. He leans down and for a moment you think he's going to kiss you. That it's one of those times he just teased you to see your reaction – but no.

He nibbles on your jaw instead, down to your neck. You hate how out of breath you already are. And then he stands tall again. You barely get a glimpse of his face before you're turned around. Gasping in surprise, your palms stretched against the tree's trunk.

His warm breath fans against your ear, lips brushing against it. “What did he do?”

“Who?”

“Your friend.” he mocks.

“I'm not telling you that!” you manage to exclaim in distress. His hands appear on your hips, pushing your ass flash against him . Fuck. You can feel his bulge against your ass, slowly hardening. “Does that turn you on?” you try to ask mockingly.

“Fuck no.” His answers come quickly.

“Why's your cock hard then?” Hardening but details, details.

“From imagining how tight your cunt is.”

You curse under your breath, leaning your forehead, not caring how scratchy the tree trunk feels against your soft skin. “I guess you'll never know.”

Jungkook chuckles. “Oh, I already know.”

“Don't be so cocky.” you tell him through clenched teeth.

“Did he make you cum?”

You pant, nails digging into the tree. “Does it matter?”

“Did he make you cum?” he asks sternly, arousal leaking onto your panties.

“Yes.” you whisper. Yoongi is not the one you want to talk about. You want to tell him none of that matters.

“What did he do?” He presses again.

You keep your mouth shut, gasping when Jungkook shamelessly circles his tattooed arm against your frame, fingers playing with the hem of your sweatpants. “Am I gonna get an answer?”

You stubbornly shake your head, giving him an answer.

Stupidly cute, he thinks. Right after he sneaks his hand inside your sweatpants, under your panties too as you feel his flesh against you. At the littlest touch as he cups you and rubs your naked pussy, you let out a not so quiet moan. When he feels your wetness, he chuckles under his breath.

“Did he use his fingers?” he asks, still rubbing you before circling your wet and clenching hole.

“Argh, fuck.”

“Y/N.” he warns.

“Fuck, no.”

He presses his thumb against your hole, not entering you just putting a slight pressure which makes your head spin.

“Mouth?”

“Mhm.” You bite into your lip harshly, pushing your ass against him as he dodges your attempt of feeling something more.

“Yes?” he presses, causing you to groan.

“Fuck, yes. Yes.” you whine, causing him to nod behind you.

His hand is out of your sweatpants before you can catch another breath. Swallowing down the disappointment, you're ready to curse him out. However, just as you open your mouth you're easily interrupted by Jungkook tugging both your sweatpants and panties down to your ankles. You gasp, muttering Jungkook's name as a warm breeze hits your wet core.

Looking across your shoulder, you see him dropping to his knees as he pulls your ass toward him. He angles your body just so your entire backside is arched for him, giving him a front view of your pussy and ass.

“I told you I'm gonna fuck you in the woods.” he says before he bites onto your asscheek.

You whimper, panting. “If I let you.”

“I don't know, Y/N,” The usage of your name brings an odd feeling. “It seems you're letting me.”

“Shut up oh–fuck ,” Jungkook's mouth is buried in your wetness, tongue latching at it.

You haven't touched yourself for a long time. There was never time and to be completely honest – no need to when you had Jungkook. Nothing, not even you, could not compare to the pleasure he gives you. You would rather wait days for him to touch you, have sex with you or anything that could bring you an orgasm, than do it yourself. Even after the argument, you busied yourself with work and binge-watched like TV shows. Then you got your period which exhausted you.

Whenever you jerk your backside, barely able to endure the magic of his mouth and tongue. He's not going easy on you, grabbing your hips and holding them tight, and you in place. He growls against you, almost as warning you to stop moving. Just when you think things can't get more intense, his tongue enters you and two of his fingers rub your clit in fast circles.

“Holy shit!”

You cum on his tongue within seconds, adding it to the list of embarrassing things you've managed to do in only ten minutes. Your lungs are on fire, all Jungkook's doing as he licks off some of your cum before you feel his hands on your ankles. That's it?

“You want more?” he chuckles, not the usual type when things are normal between you. In fact, they aren't and the distance in his tone reminds you of your current issue. You haven't realized you said your thoughts out loud.

Looking across your shoulder and down, too scared to move at the moment, you glance at him. “You brought me here to eat me out?”

“That wasn't the plan.” he points out, “You don't deserve more.”

That makes you scoff loudly, ass bare. You should probably dress up, but his hands still remain at your ankles. “You're right. Maybe I should tell Yoongi.”

That is so fucking childish! But you can't help it. The truth is Yoongi would probably never touch you again. What you've done previously was a drunken mistake in the heat of the moment. Alcohol was involved. You can't say your relationship has progressed much since then, but you know each other a little bit more. It would surely make things even weird to even consider it. If he heard you, you're not sure if he would want to vomit or would laugh – probably the loudest you would ever hear him.

Jungkook stands up abruptly, pressing his front against your back which makes you straighten up. He grabs the back of your neck, not too tight but you feel his hand there. “Good. Imagine me when he fucks you.”

You let out a sarcastic and humorous laugh. “You're all talk, Jeon. Thought you would fuck me in the woods.”

“Desperate much?” he laughs bitterly, “Tell your friend.”

You elbow him, enough to let him know to get you some space as you quickly pull up your clothes, ignoring how your underwear digs into your butt crack uncomfortably.

“Y'know what?” He doesn't because you don't await his response. “When you want your cock sucked, tell Ester.”

“I will. Maybe she'll do a better job at it.” he says fast. Too fast.

Something happens in your chest, it burns and it makes your anger rise. “You piece of shit!” You curse, venom present in your voice as you go to push into his chest. He doesn't move.

“Two can play this game, Y/N.” he reminds you.

You glare, watching the way he swipes his bottom lip with his thumb, putting the pad of it into his mouth. All while his eyes stay on you.

“Is this game to you?” you ask in disbelief.

He drops his hand in annoyance and rolls his eyes. “You're the one who started to threaten me with your co-worker.” he points out.

“Threaten you? Please.” you scoff dramatically.

Suddenly, your jaw is cupped and grabbed harshly as he presses you into the tree again. “You want me to fuck you?”

You gulp, mentally scolding yourself for feeling aroused by such a simple question. You're mad. In fact, you should tell him to fuck off and leave before you still can. But you stay rooted in your spot.

“Not anymore. I will ask Yoongi, he will do a better job at it than you.”

He chuckles, knowing that's not true and you wish you could refute the statement. But you don't want to.

Jungkook tightens his hold, rougher than before you're turned around once again. This time your cheek pressed against the hard tree trunk as your underwear and sweatpants are roughly pulled down. You almost fall but hold yourself at the last minute, surprised by the roughness. You provoked him. Truth to be told and admitted, you want this even if it makes you out as desperate.

“You sure he will?” he prompts.

“Mhm,” Is all you manage to mumble back.

“Does he know you're my little slut?”

“I'm not yours.” you pant, shutting your ass when another slap is delivered on your ass.

“You're right,” he hums, parting your legs slightly as he cups your pussy tightly. “This cunt is.” He slaps you there, earning a long gasp mixed with moan. You're not sure if he has ever done it. The pain and pleasure shoots through you and you're close to whimpering, begging for more.

“Who said that?” You're playing with fire. But you enjoy this.

“I did,” he laughs as if it wasn't obvious. “Didn't you say my mouth is yours to kiss?”

You did say that. You were drunk. No wasted out of your mind. But you don't justify it out loud.

“That dirty mouth of yours?” you chuckle, hearing him do the same behind you. “Who knows what you do with it.”

“You know it.” You blush at his words. “Now, should we get back or you want to get fucked?”

“My ass is bare, what do you think?” you retort smartly, yelping when he pinches your clit. What the hell. With seconds passing, it does feel good. Argh!

You hear clothes rustling, your walls clenching just from the thought of him taking off his clothes and getting his cock out. Fuck , you suddenly hate that you're turned with your back to him.

Then his tip pokes your puckered hole, moving further down to separate your folds. He's at your entrance, causing you to quietly moan as you arch your ass for him. You even part your legs, hearing him curse behind you.

You thought it's because of you, and maybe it is, that's until you hear a little groan. “What's wrong?”

Many things, he wants to say but he presses his lips tightly. “I don't have a condom.”

You release a disappointed breath. Fuck! You scream inside your head before you arch your ass again, feeling his cock against you as he lets out a pleased sigh. “It's okay. Fuck me without it.” You say it too quickly, almost as if you didn't give it a thought.

“Fuck, you serious?” Jungkook pants, sounding out of breath from the single thought of fucking you raw again.

“Yes,” you breathe heavily. “Just fuck me. I can't stand this.”

His answer doesn't come verbal, he presses the tip of his cock against your entrance but not quite entering you. One hand on your waist and the other on his cock, he circles his tip against your entrance and then rubs it along your folds up to your clit. Fucking hell.

“Kook.” you whine.

And then he presses in one movement, knocking the breath out of you. He's fast, despite you being not stretched out you shiver against him. The burn mixed with pleasure makes you press your face even more to the tree, ignoring how it stings.

He doesn't ask anything, he doesn't wait for you to get used to his size, having him filling you up to the brim. He pulls out and then harshly thrusts in. Before you know it, his hand moves to the back of your neck. Holding you there, the other goes to the side of your ass as he gets a good grip of you. Thighs hitting against yours, the sound of your skin slapping and meeting fills up the space. You realize this is the first time you're having sex in a complete open space – the thought of that arouses you to the core.

Jungkook's pace is animalistic, leaving you all whiny and a complete mess, as your wetness gushes out of you. Even the way his cock thrusts into your wet walls is clear to your ears. Eyes scrunched tightly, you can't control the noises that ripple out of you. Your entire body is burning and there are no thoughts in your mind. For the first time since the argument, you don't think. There is no feeling of guilt, anger, annoyance and everything you've felt for the past week. You're so full of him, feeling every inch of him despite his ruthless pace as soft grunts of his own pleasure are heard behind you.

“S-so good.” You're out of your mind, not even grasping at what you're saying. It doesn't matter that you stroke Jungkook's already big ego. He knows very well what he's doing to you – and what he's able to do to you.

“Yeah?” he pants behind you. “I couldn't tell.”

“You piece of–”

“Ow!” you whine, your skin sensitive from the third slap your asscheek has gotten.

Suddenly, the tip of his fingers sneak between your open legs, rubbing your clit which makes you whimper even more.

“Fuck–so close–I can't–so good.”

It's too much. His cock is wrapped around your walls, thrusting the spots you never knew you had, his fingers are on your clit adding just the right pressure while his balls smack against it too. A few more rough thrusts and you're cumming, your entire body shuddering as Jungkook groans. You're going through your orgasm, close to the end of it when Jungkook pulls out all of a sudden and cums on your ass. You feel the warm liquid covering your skin, dripping down with some of it down your ass cheeks. It's messy but so fucking hot that you hum shamelessly.

Feeling empty despite the intense orgasm, you hear a little rustling behind you and then Jungkook's hands on your ass again. A second later, Jungkook draws out his tongue before you feel the soft and wet muscle on your skin. He licks his cum off it, your mouth falling open at the amount of dirtiness behind his actions. You didn't think he could get any hotter.

He cleans you off and tugs your sweatpants along your panties up, where you take it from them and dress up. He does the same, tucking himself back into his boxers as he hides any evidence of your sinful actions.

Everything dawns upon you, slowly but surely, once the remains of orgasm no longer clouds your mind. It's like a movie that flashes right in front of your eyes, reminding you of what has just happened. There's no regret though, even when all those negative emotions come back and you realize you haven't made anything better. Just like a bunch of teenagers, you fucked the anger out of your system for the time being, until it's over now and nothing between you is okay. You haven't talked.

You actually made no progress, which was Taehyung's last hope and the reason why he has sent you away from everyone. What are you supposed to do now? Come back there and act like everything's fine? Continue to ignore Jungkook because there's still a lot that needs to be said. Oh god , you really hope none of them went to look for you. You have been gone for longer than ten minutes. You wouldn't be able to live it down if one of them caught you. What if they did and saw you?

Different scenarios (embarrassing ones) fill your already messed up mind. As you turn around to face Jungkook, fully clothed now, you're constantly reminded of your actions. His hair is messy, he tries to fix it by running his fingers through it a few times. The sour taste on your tongue and the clench in your chest defines the disappointment you feel. Disappointed at yourself. Since when the hell do you solve your problems by having sex? Angry sex at that. And you solved a major shit.

Sure. You remember the time when you and him had sex, rough and angry once when you were arguing. But that time seems like a faint memory. You would've guessed you got better at that. Instead, you're ashamed that this is what your friendship looks like. If you and him weren't hooking up, what would happen? Would you finally talk? Even when you didn't feel ready. You're still not, especially what happened now.

Again, there's no regret. The sex was amazing and definitely helped with the anger (partly). However, looking back at this now, there's an empty hole in your chest. You and him are still arguing over something completely stupid. But it's not stupid enough for both of you to let it go.

You two are fucking idiots.

Jungkook lifts up his gaze, brows frowning all of a sudden and you wonder if he has the same thoughts, disappointed at himself for fucking you in the woods. To be fair, you asked for it. And you're ashamed how easy those words left your mouth.

He surprises by lifting his hand, pads of his fingers slowly touching your cheekbone. “You're hurt.” he informs softly.

You had no idea what he's talking about, but as soon as his fingers make contact with your skin, you recognize the little stinging. You touch your skin, feeling its surface slightly damaged and scratched from the tree. Great, now you not only will have memories of Jungkook fucking you outside in a darkness, but you will have an actual reminder and proof of it as well.

Automatically, you frown and slap his hand away. “This,” You motion between you and him. “Didn't happen.”

He doesn't argue, nor do you give him a space for it because you brush past him, making your way back. Usually, you wouldn't be so confident walking in the darkness, let alone be in front but the urge to get out of here is strong. Luckily, you hear Jungkook following you, now him being the one who's behind you.

You have no idea how you've managed to get back, remembering the exact route Jungkook has taken. Your memory when it comes to this is not bad at all, but still you're quite impressed – and relieved – when you spot the fireplace and laughter nearby.

You know the moment you fully come back, their attention is going to be on you and Jungkook, expecting something. Analyzing the atmosphere between you two. And that's exactly what happens when all the chattering dies down as soon as they spot you.

Taehyung's eyes are curious and a grin threatens to spread, until he notices your face. “What happened?” he asks, “Did you have a physical fight?” He tries to joke, met with a glare from you.

“I fell.” you reply dryly, snatching your bag of toiletries.

Jungkook plops onto his old spot, leaning his elbow against the armrest as he rubs the space between his brows.

“Jungkook?” Jimin asks confusingly, expecting some kind of explanation from him. You act as if you don't hear him, grabbing more of your stuff as you ignore Maya's eyes on you.

“Y/N, where are you going?” Maya asks, quietly and softly but loud enough for some of them to hear.

“To take a shower. I'm covered in dirt and I need to clean this off.” you mutter, hearing her stand up as she stumbles. Little does she know you have to clean the mess between your legs too.

“I'm going with you.” she says.

“No, it's okay.”

“Fine, but it's dark. Someone should go with you.”

You frustratedly scratch your forehead, groaning a little. You don't want her to question you. You're not in the mood to talk, let alone to share what has happened in the woods.

“Stay here. I'll go with her.” Namjoon helps her to sit down, standing up as he offers you a comforting smile.

With a tight grip on your towel, you walk away in total shame. Confused and miserable than ever.

#networkbangtan #ksmutclub #ficswithluv #btswritingcafe #jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook smut #bts au #personasintro

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txttletale · 9 months

Note

elaborate on what the framing device of tolkien is? politically, i cant stand the lotr books even though i think about them a lot, but I'm not sure if we have the same ideas here

tolkien treats the books as though they are a mythological corpus that he is just a translator and collator of -- he constructed a fairly detailed historical transmission of the fictional texts he ''translated'' into the lord of the rings books. his obvious and very explicit point of comparison is beowulf, but the intended literary effect is also similar to e.g. translated versions of the icelandic sagas or irish cycles.

this gives LoTR a mythological and historical grounding that basically all of its descendants lack--so there is a real sense that when the book, say, accepts unquestioningly the divine right of kings, that this is because it is a text (yknow, or meant to be read as a text) that was produced under feudalism, that it has a historical context in some 'real' history of middle earth under which it would have been produced with this viewpoint. the narrator is historically situated rather than an omniscient 'neutral' observer or (as is often the mode nowadays, especially in rpgs) steeped in the encyclopediac register of colonial anthropology.

& of course that doesn't make it beyond critique by any means--i also don't like the politics of the lord of the rings. but i do think it makes engaging with what there is to critique a much more thoughtful and rewarding process in a way that most fantasy just straight up lacks

#ask

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shuusocks · 10 months

Text

(NSFW) pov: what they are like in bed part 1.

Content warning: 18+ themes, mentions of explicit sexual activity 🤺

Shu Sakamaki:

Shu might be a lazy boy but don't be deceived by his lack of movement. His sex drive is through the roof most of the time. Shu doesn't really take time to initiate the act of intimacy himself but when you're feeling needy and come to him for some needed relief, he will gather all of his inner strength and will make sure you will be a shaking, crying mess after he’s done with you. In bed, Shu likes to take his time playing with you, teasing you, until you're completely ready for him to take you.

When he's on top of you, Shu doesn’t use any restraints on you, he lets your hands wander freely. He really enjoys the pain when you scratch his back until he bleeds. This little action lets him know how good he makes you feel. Shu really likes it when you get on top of him and do all the work yourself by lifting your hips up and down his shaft. He also loves marking your neck and shoulders with deep purple hickeys. Another thing about Shu, is that he’s not that vocal during intimacy but he is an absolute master at dirty talk. The words that fall out of his lips in between deep raspy groans, can make you see stars instantly.

Reiji Sakamaki:

Reiji is often really busy all day, rotting away in his lab, doing all sorts of experiments. His mind is too preoccupied with consuming more knowledge, for any kind of inappropriate thoughts to get in. He only snaps out of his trance-like state when you enter his working space and start to be a needy little whore for him. Touching lightly his chest, giving small kisses around his neck, slowly drifting your hand to the belt of his dress pants until he can’t take it anymore.

Reiji mostly likes to do it on the bed. Either in a random room in the mansion or your shared bedroom. He will make sure you feel comfortable and properly pampered and ready for him. He loves holding your hands above your head and leaving love kisses all over your neck, going down to your shoulders and chest. The sight of you hopelessly squirming and whimpering underneath him, makes Reijis mind blank. If he's feeling feisty that day, Reiji won't hesitate to even tie your hands to the bed frame and edge you until you're a pleading sobbing mess, only then he will make you finally come. Reiji, doing intimate moments also loves to call you pet names, e.g. “good girl/boy”, “sweetheart”, “darling”. Also, he will absolutely give you the best aftercare.

Laito Sakamaki:

Laito is undoubtedly the brother who is willing to take you anytime, anywhere at any chance he gets. This man is horny all the time beyond belief. His mind is always full of sick and twisted images and thoughts of what he would do to you. Turning him on and putting him in the mood is probably the easiest thing ever. It would only take a couple of small kisses on his face, neck or shoulders and Laito is already tearing both of you guys' clothes off.

Laito loves touching your body while doing it. He will slowly drag his hands up and down your hips, feeling every beautiful curve on your perfect body (every body is perfect ily <3). Laito will tease you, lightly giving you small, butterfly-like kisses, which turn into blue-ish, purple hickeys. At times when you're already both on the edge, Laito will nibble on your skin, sucking your sensitive little buds and messages your thighs. If he's feeling a little bit more playful, Laito will graze his sharp fangs against your delicate skin, drawing just a tiny bit of bright red blood. He also loves it when you praise him for being a good boy, for doing such a good job of making your body feel like it’s in heaven.

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fallenneziah · 1 year

Text

Dating the Transformers Decepticon Boys.

Some little headcanons for some of the boys.

Shockwave:

Small hand in big hand, small hand in big hand!

Shockwave is reserved. Once in a relationship with you he has to come to terms with the emotions he thought he would never feel again. So he takes his time in coming to know both you and these new ideas and feelings that are surrounding him.

He's horny.

Despite being alone most of the time and focusing on his sciences, Shockwave will not pass up a single opportunity to get down in the berth. At first he would not interface at all, but now he likes to get in time at least once every couple of days, a week at most.

He's jealous. Easily too.

Another emotion he isn't used to it jealously, so when someone does something to turn that switch, whether it be talking, staring, or touching, he will lose it.

Everyone is already pretty scared of him, like Soundwave, he doesn't need to say or do much to make a point. But he will strain his stance above yours and shadow you with his structure. He'll burn his look into their soul until they get the hint and scurry.

His love language is gifts. He loves to present you with his projects and make different things for you. And he won't say it, but he will cherish every little trinket you bring him in return.

Behind closed doors when his work is put out of the way he is very affectionate. He wouldn't say it but he never thought you'd want him in a berth because of his lack of s left arm. But you two got around it and you make sure to nestle little compliments into your conversations.

Knockout:

One hundred percent the guy who will come around behind you as you use his tools and guide your hands while whispering the instructions in your ear.

A tease.

He loves to drop subtle hints around the Nemesis and will kiss you around the hallways.

Everytime you come back from a mission he urges you to the medbay and will look all over you for scratches or dents. Same before you leave, he wants to make sure those puny Autobots see his sparkmate at their best.

He is a tease, but he doesn't have as high a sex drive as someone like Predaking or Makeshift for example. He enjoys a good frag, but blow jobs under the operating table are his favorite kind of intimacy.

He is very jealous. Not in an insecure way, he is very sure in his image. However, he doesn't like when others make sly compliments about your frame. Sure, they can tell you how amazing your paint is or the curve of your hips, but if it's anything explicit he will be very upset. He'll threaten them with his blades, "If you want one so bad, why don't I give you a new look!" Or something along those lines.

If he's feeling more chill and sly, he'll walk over during the conversation and slip his servo against your hip plating. He'll caress your waist and watch with the smirk of the devil as the mech or femme slowly comes to realization.

He loves when you compliment him. His love language is words of affirmation and gifts, so you'll find a miniature version of his vehicle mode next to your bed or some other kind of trinket.

Predaking:

Very, very, very protective.

He makes sure to put any unworthy mech or femme in their place. The second anyone - even Megatron looks at you funny it is on.

He has a very high sex drive and will often leave you locked in your berth for hours just so he can love on you. He's mindful of your body however. He'll make sure to mark you his up and down your frame from your neck cables to your ankles.

He was eager to learn about you when he met you. He found an instant attraction and his long dormant mating protocols would roar to life every time you looked his way.

He will court you with shiny objects he finds. Often bringing back sharp scrap metal or rocks. He adores giving you gifts, but touch is his love language.

He could sit in his bed and hold you close until the world exploded. As long as you are with him he feels at peace and confident.

He was very shy around you at first. He wasn't a clumsy doufas, but he would show off his strength by straightening his stance and glaring down other mechs. He enjoyed showing off his beast form in front of you and would act so confident and put together. The second you opened a conversation with him. The poor boy couldn't put a sentance together he was so embarrassed and nervous.

Predaking is un-fucking-touchable. When the Vehicons or the commanders see the markings along your frame they steer clear. If any unlucky 'con is so dumb enough to get on Predaking's turf and even attempt to court his mate it's over. There is no point in running. Death in inevitable.

Either that or he will beat them to near death.

Once your back in his arms he'll hold you close the rest of the day and growl lowly at anyone who comes near.

The only person he trusts to be around you is Shockwave. As a predacon he is constantly in protect mode and anything that is his will be protected until he dies.

Megatron:

Megatron took a liking to you quickly. You caught his eye with how fluent you were with your tasks and how reputable you were on the battlefield.

Only the most powerful and fit can be his mate, and he thought you were perfect. So, he decided you were his. He wasn't exactly sure how to get your attention or how to work a relationship all that well. So he just started telling the vehicons you were his until you found out. When confronted with the facts he seemed only slightly embarrassed and more confused. "Yes..?"

You told him you'd think about it so Megatron let it be. Manz is impatient as fuck. He was so head over heels for you that if you couldn't make your mind then he would court you.

Poems. Poems. Poems. EVERYWHERE.

He would leave them on your desk, in your room, anywhere he knew you would see it. With respect of the vehicons because if they caught him being such a simp it would end his career.

He doesn't have the highest sex drive, but he enjoys fragging as much as the next 'con. Once he gets you in his room he will keep you there until he sees fit for you to leave. And whatever happens in that time happens.

He's also less of a jealous person and more protective. If someone makes s suggestive move or talks to you in a certain way he will act. Commanding and assured he will back them off and get you in his arms to protect you.

His love language is words of affirmation. He will praise you when you have done something good and you do so in return. He definitely enjoys it.

Starscream:

I can't decide between these two so I will leave them here... He is either super horny all the time, or, like Megatron he has a lower sex drive but once in the berthroom it can last quite a while. Round after round.

He gets flustered around you easily. He'll stammer and try to appear smaller and more innocent like he does when he is in trouble with Megatron.

Once he gets his hands on you however he is a tease to Cybertron and back. He will whisper words in your ears while you work or give your aft a pinch as you're walking by.

He doesn't hide your relationship either. Every seeker that exists knows of you two. He's not afraid to be open and deliberate about how you two are.

Therefore, most on the Nemesis are aware you are taken and busy themselves elsewhere. Those few who do might just get away with it.

Starscream is the most jealous out of everyone on the Nemesis. He is very insecure about himself and everything in general. All he is confident in are his dumb plans and his backstabbing ways.

Of a much larger mech attempted to court you he might just leave you to handle it. You're capable of saying no right? And if you don't then he'll be spark broken.

If it's a Vehicon or a seeker he will feel much more confident in himself. Often times using his rank to boss people away from you and back to work. But when he can't hide behind his rank he gets much more nervous. Overall, you're kind of on your own if things get physical.

"You scratch my back, I scratch yours," His love language is definitely acts of service/favors, and words of affirmation. He loathes getting praises and is a sucker for the treatment. But he also enjoys doing favors for something in return, and vice versa.

Soundwave:

An absolute cuddle bug in bed. When no one is looking he'll scoop you up in his large arms and hug you against his chest.

He never confessed his attraction, you came to him. He refused to confess, but he would leave you sweet notes and quotes from popular poems whenever he could.

He acts cold and distant but you know better. Soundwave isn't a mech who is known for his emotions. He does not speak and you are not an exception. The relationship can often feel one-sided and conversation is limited, but you find peace in it.

Your relationship is way underground and no one even suspects that the two of you are into each other. So when someone asks you out nervously on a date, you couldn't blame the guy.

Soundwave isn't jealous. He has learned to work around his emotions and has very good control over his outbursts. So before you respond he'll reply, "Negative." In a deep, almost threatening voice. Usually followed by you apologizing and explaining you are already taken and going about your business.

It's simple.

But if you are defied and they continue to push, he'll simply get Laserbeak to chase him away for a while.

You are very appreciative of Soundwave and all that he does for you. He love to kiss his faceplate and around his collar fins. And he enjoys it. He'll lean info you and purr happily as you kiss along his jaw.

Soundwave's love language can differ from time to time, but he most enjoys quality time with you. Even if he's working and drowned out in tasks he enjoys the presence you bring to the cold room. If your rambling on he'll do his best to listen.

*********

Apologies for any spelling mistakes :/

#starscream #megatron #soundwave #shockwave #headcanon #headcanons #knockout #transformers #writing #x reader #megatron x reader #soundwave x reader #shockwave x reader #starscream x reader #knockout x reader #predaking #predaking x reader

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meowzfordayz · 3 months

Text

this morning

Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader

Word Count: ~700

CW: explicit language, mild sexual content

You hate being woken up early, sitting up in alarm thinking it’s past noon, then checking your phone and realizing it’s only 8am. Usually, the blinds are closed. But this morning is different. This morning is steeped in pale rose and lavender, hints of peach clinging to the underside of clouds as the sun slowly rises, light shining softly into the bedroom. Winter mornings may be colder, but they’re also more tender — a gentle, drowsy caress of circadian rhythm, so unlike the bright and eager mornings of summer or spring.

“Sanemi?” you rasp, eyes still closed as you rouse your limbs, body gradually registering the lack of heat beside you.

You aren’t concerned. It’s Monday anyway, and while you work later in the day, your husband does not.

Groggy, you force yourself to sit upright, back supported by a plethora of pillows as your gaze drifts to the bedside table. He usually leaves a note, or a silly doodle (he’s the greatest artist you’ll ever know), or sometimes just a glass of water. Nothing today. You shrug off the odd sensation of his absence, stretching with a mangled yawn as you resist the urge to pick up your phone. Maybe he texted? But you aren’t panicked. Nope. You’re sleepy and calm. Everything is fine. Perhaps he shaved this morning and left in a hurry, or got distracted cleaning the kitchen after cooking himself breakfast. Sometimes he forgets you remind yourself It’s not like he has to say goodbye.

You do vaguely recall him murmuring Good morning to your mostly unconscious figure, a careful kiss pressed to your forehead as the sheets were tucked neatly under your chin. Shh he’d whispered, tapping your cheek with an adoring look You don’t need to get up yet. So you hadn’t. You’d snuggled deeper into the mattress, a slurred Morning-love-you barely audible as he’d left the room, the door not quite closed behind him.

“You’re awake.”

You shriek.

“Well fuck,” Sanemi snorts, gleaming with amusement, doorway framing his shower tousled hair and plain white shirt, grey sweatpants slung lazy around his hips, “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You’re at work!” you exclaim accusingly, heartbeat spiking at his presence.

He grins easily, making his way toward the edge of the bed.

“It’s Monday!” your arms would be flapping if you weren’t so confused, “Are you sick? Why aren’t you resting?!”

“You forgot,” he remarks wryly, reaching a familiar palm to your knee, squeezing you through the blankets.

“No,” you snap, “You forgot!”

Brow furrowing, he hesitates, “What exactly did I forget?”

And then your face warms, suddenly petulant as you grab for his hand, bringing his knuckles to your mouth. You blow gently, nuzzling your lips against the faint moisture before pouting.

“Tosaygoodbye.”

Unfortunately, he is your husband, and he understands your mumble-speech like no other.

“Seriously?” he’s grinning again, like he knows a secret that you aren’t yet privy to.

“Yes,” you huff, shooting him a glare, “Not to be clingy, but to be totally clingy, I really appreciate when you write me little notes and stuff.”

“You’re so dumb,” he sighs, ignoring your indignant squawk as he continues to say, “It’s literally your birthday you idiot. I took today off.”

Oh. Oh! Oh!!

Your shock evident by your silence, Sanemi leans over to peck your cheek, winking as he dips lower to nip at your jaw.

“Reservations for breakfast are in two hours. You can stay here or join me on the couch until then.”

“And what about my job?” you finally blurt, “I didn’t request time off.”

He shrugs, “That’s fine,” brimming with smugness as he drawls, “What I dropped off should be enough to convince your boss to let you go home early. And dinner’s on me,” grazing your earlobe with his teeth as he smiles, “Dessert too. Definitely dessert.”

—

Despite his thinly veiled warning, you are not prepared for the mass of flowers awaiting you at your job, a handwritten card accompanying the arrangement as you search frantically for your phone, already determined to call Sanemi and sob demand to know when he became so romantic (happily, of course).

#sanemi shinazugawa #shinazugawa sanemi #sanemi x reader #shinazugawa x reader #wind hashira #drabble #modern au #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer

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thesakuragarnet · 4 months

Text

Liquid Lust (Dabi X Fem! Reader)

Summary: You and Dabi get physical for the first time in your relationship, but his lack of experience doesn't mean lack of enthusiasm.

THIS WORK IS 18+ ONLY! S3XUAL TAGS WILL BE HIDDEN BELOW THE KEEP READING BUTTON!

Non-Spicy Tags: Dabi X Fem! Villain Reader, heavy smvt, making out, 2nd person POV, swearing

Word Count: 1,278 words

AO3 link

Spicy Tags: p*ssy drunk Dabi and actually drunk Dabi, explicit consent, w3t and m3ssy 0ral s3x, over-the-top moaning/response, f0replay, virgin Dabi, cunn!l!ngus, over$t!mulation, c*mming in pants, dry humping, slighty submissive Dabi elements/ service t0p Dabi

lowkey inspired by a series of tweets I saw and some headcanons

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Dabi had been seeing each other for some time now, and it was rapidly getting apparent that things would be escalating tonight. You were laughing at the bar, enjoying one another's company, and, then, after a few shots, he was suddenly all over you. You two had kissed before, but not like this...never like this. He had picked you up, sweeping you off your feet, kissing you all the while as he walked you to his bedroom. Once inside, he slammed the door shut with his foot and set you down before flipping the lock.

In a snap, the intense kissing overwhelms you once again. Dabi's calloused hands wrap around you, one gripping at the fabric of your top at your back while the other grasps at your waist, pulling you intimately close as his tongue slips delicately into your mouth. It was longer than you expected, practically tracing every inch he could reach, dancing with your own so precisely that it made your head swim. You melt into his passionate embrace, your arms looping around his neck, drawing him in closer, softly playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. Dabi groans, the sound low and rumbling deep in his throat, primal and wanting. He curses under his breath, the words sounding like a suppressed moan as he kisses you again...and again...and again. His kisses are relentless, like he's starving for a taste of your flesh. He walks you backward to the bed mid-kiss, and you gasp softly when you feel yourself falling, landing on his comforter as he looms over you. Iridescent blue eyes glow in the darkness before he's on you once more, his hands cupping your cheeks as he climbs on top of you.

"Want...hah...you...hah...so...bad~" Dabi moans between heavy breaths and sloppy kisses. He's flooding your senses. The taste of his lips and the alcohol, the faint scent of charcoal and cheap cologne that he wears, the feeling of his touch exploring your body, the sounds of his needy, restrained whimpers and panting, the way his figure eclipses your vision. Dabi is everywhere.

You feel like you're floating; you've never experienced this desperate side of him. Sure, Dabi could be soft and flirtatiously gentle in your quiet moments alone together, but this was different. He wanted you...no...needed you.

His fingers find their way to the hem of your top, scrambling beneath it and finding a grip at the clasp of your bra. He pauses briefly before slurring:

"Isss this okay?"

Red tints your cheeks and warmth blooms in your heart as you nod fiercely, and Dabi needs no more convincing before he starts to struggle with the clasp. After an embarrassingly awkward moment of silence, he finally pulls it apart, sighing softly in relief before attempting to get your top and bra free. He throws them off into the darkness of his room before taking you in, practically drooling. His jaw drops slightly as he stares at your exposed tits, taking in your frame, hands hovering over them, almost like he's scared you'll crumble once he makes contact.

A smile plays at your lips as you guide his hands, and you watch how rapidly his chest rises and falls when fingers squeeze at the tender flesh. Slowly, Dabi brings his mouth to your nipple, shivering as he starts suckling on it. A soft groan bursts from your lips, and you tilt your head back into Dabi's pillow, allowing yourself to sink into the soft bed and focus on his touch. His delightfully warm tongue swirls around your areola, tasting as much of you as he can. Dabi sighs, muffled noises of desperation catching in his scarred throat. His other hand massages your other tit before slowly traveling down your body. Dabi looks up at you with drunk doe eyes, full of love and lust and palpable desire. You can't help but hum in pleasure as he tends to your body. Finally, his hand stops at the waist of your pants, and he pulls his slick and swollen lips back from your nipple with a resounding "POP".

"Can...hic...can I go down on you?" He pleads, sweat beading on his brow as the stars themselves seem to dance in his eyes. You whisper your consent to him, and a relieved groan ripples through his entire body. Quickly, he unbuttons your pants, sliding them off, and, soon, your panties as well.

He'd never done this before. Touya Todoroki was practically shaking as he stared at the dripping mess in front of him, slick from the foreplay. His breathing is ragged, and he almost looks starstruck as he bends down, laying on the bed between your legs. Carefully, he spreads your lips, eyes still wide and pupils blown out as he takes in the scene in front of him. He seems to shudder a bit, lip trembling and legs shaking like jelly.

The moment his top lip catches on the hood of your clit and his tongue makes contact with your sex, his eyelids flutter, eyes rolling back into his head as he groans. You cry out at the vibrations, pleasure throbbing throughout your body as he grabs your thighs and pulls you closer, practically suffocating himself.

"Ohfuckit'ssogood~" Dabi slurs together in one muffled word as he buries his face between your legs; a rosy blush starts to tint the healthy flesh on his cheekbones between his scars. Pleasure boils in the pit of your stomach as he savors your flavor, tongue lapping up your slit and teasing the pulsing bud.

"Dabi~" His name drips from your lips like honey as your hands find purchase in his charcoal-colored hair, and the sound is the most beautiful melody to Dabi's ears. His movements quicken and become more deliberate, his lips suckling your clit and his tongue slipping inside you. He gasps as he massages your insides, sparing no second tasting you, murmuring slurred praises, and, gently, you feel the bed shake. He's getting so turned on that he's grinding his erection into the bed through his pants, trying to get what little friction he can.

The sight of him getting off that much by just eating you out sends another wave of pleasure down your spine, and the two of you moan and pant in a sickeningly sweet harmony. The air is thick with desperate devotion, and the bed creaks beneath Dabi's thrusts. He hooks his arms under your thighs, pulling your legs over his shoulders as he dives in further. The coils of heat bubble up in the pit of your stomach, and you feel your orgasmic high approaching fast. Judging by Dabi's noises and choked whimpers between lewd slurps, he's close, too.

"Fuck, baby~" He whines, plunging his tongue into your folds as he ruts his hips, and, suddenly, your climax comes crashing down, making your back arch and a strangled cry burst from your throat. Dabi latches on, eating you out through your orgasm. A few more thrusts, and you feel him tense up as he moans, loud and low into your sex. When he lifts his head, his eyes are glassy; Dabi looks at you with a completely blissed-out expression as he licks his lips and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

"God...you're...incredible," He huffs, breath hot and heavy in the darkness as he tries to catch his bearings. As far as you're concerned, your head is still in the clouds, and you feel like you're floating. Dabi takes another deep breath before kissing your inner thigh and climbing off the bed.

"Gonna go change...Be right back," He sighs before stalking off in the dark to the connected bathroom.

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h0rr0rwhor3 · 1 year

Text

it looks good on you

masterlist

pairing: connor x short!chubby!female!reader

summary: (keep in mind that this is a wip that i will finish upon request!) after the android revolution and the reuniting of connor and hank, it only became a matter of time before the two were attached by the hip; whether hank was sneaking connor into crime scenes or as connor tagged along with hank while he bar hopped. as connor dealt with his curiosity and self-discovery, his emotions only got more confusing once he met [y/n], well that is, once he laid eyes on her. you would think that he and hank now being regulars at the jazz bar and café she works at would make things easier for him, but it seems to only grow his anxiousness, and even, his frustration.

warnings: size kink, dom!connor, sub!reader, uniform kink(?), sexually frustrated connor

a/n: like i had posted previously, this is a wip that i have not been able to work on due to lacking the energy and creativity to finish it. so i will leave the decision to my fellow readers on whether or not y'all would like a part 2! so if you guys would like a part two please let me know 😁! i hope you enjoy and thank you for the support on my previous smut!

it took a few months for society to recover at least a little bit after the android revolution.

protests against androids had only increased since then, many saying that the android revolution was the “resurrection of the devil”. cyberlife on the other hand had no choice but to let the deviant cases go, as the number of androids becoming deviant had increased rapidly during and after the revolution. many refunds were made to those who had immediately wanted to return androids, yet cyberlife had even requested to just let them go out, as the junkyard would only become incapable of proper cleaning at that point. cyberlife even started supplying android repair shops with extra parts, thirium, and even the more explicit parts that were originally dedicated towards eden club androids. these explicit parts were of course upon request privately.

ever since the revolution, connor really had nowhere to really go, this goes for many other androids. they had no money, clothing, shelter; so the only place connor thought of going was hank’s, as he didn’t seem to feel himself fit with markus and the others. he does not regret doing so either, as it seemed to boost hank’s mood rapidly. since then they have been inseparable, whether hank educated him on some of the best jazz songs, snuck connor into some crime scenes, or even gone bar hopping. it was a true bond.

recently both males had taken a liking to this place that had doubled as a jazz café and bar. it was android friendly which had definitely eased up connor. the owner ran the shop himself with the help of his niece.

her name was [y/n][l/n]. she was 21 and had been attending a university nearby. at least that was what connor had picked up on her. she had recently been working with her uncle as he had decided that her age was now appropriate enough to be working around alcohol. the legal drinking age was 21 after all. she had been under a few inches more than a woman’s average height and appeared more curvy. her hair framed her face in a way that almost made her appear fragile. her uniform dress reached down to her lower thighs, her short sleeves and collar outlined with a white stripe. the bottom half of her dress was pleated as her apron was tied wonderfully around her waist, defining her curves even more.

connor never identified such features actively before. hell. he’s never even spent as much time taking in the features of someone at all. when he had worked on deviant cases or looked around his surroundings it was usually a quick scan of the face and that's it. something about this woman had brought such a trance upon connor. the way she had gently moved parts of her body was such an intoxicating view. connor had no idea how to deal with these feelings of anticipation. these feelings of sublime.

hank had seemed to notice connor’s slight frustration. he had even picked on connor a few times for his obvious stares, comparing him to a lost puppy. it was hard to not notice the way he had looked at the female, you could almost see the holes his eyes dug into her, and hank wanted to put a stop to it.

“connor… look bud. it’s really not that hard. you just gotta talk to her, that’s all; ask her how she's doing, her favorite music/food… anything like that connor. just spark up a goddamn conversation with her for fucks sake. maybe even do your work with those... new fucking parts you got or some shit.” hank had been lecturing connor for the past 30 minutes now, growing frustrated with connor’s questions as he soothed himself with hard alcohol.

“well lieutenant, if it is so easy to speak to a woman, then how come you still have not m-”.

“you better not be going where i think you’re going connor. we’re talking about you here! not me. got it!?” hank immediately grew defensive with the question, causing a small smirk to grow on connor’s face.

“got it.” connor laughed softly, excusing himself to the living room as he left hank’s grumpy rambling to the kitchen.

the android settled himself on the couch comfortably as he closed his eyes, focusing on his thoughts. for once he could not analyze what the best approach would be. he could barely put together one attempt at befriending the woman. it was almost as if he was experiencing nervousness. anxiety.

no. he was nervous. he could feel his thirium pumping through his body in a way that he felt like his system would drown. it was such an foreign feeling to him, his sensors tingling at the thought of being near her.

how she would look up at him, how she would smile softly as she speaks, how she would feel when she brushes against him, how she would feel in his hands.

he could almost feel his system overheat at the thought of the sensitive sensors in his fingers brushing over the fabric of her apron, of her dress, of her skin. the way goosebumps would grow on her skin with the cold sensation of his fingers.

would her breath hitch?

would her body tremble at the ticklish feeling?

would she let out a soft sigh once the cold left her skin?

the thought of such vulnerable reactions aroused unknown feelings in connor. even though he didn’t need to breathe he felt his chest rising and falling shakily, the weight heavy on his throat. he could feel a tightening tension grow in his pants, startled by his body’s reaction.

connor was aware of the effect arousal had on humans, but has yet to experience such a thing with his own after the installation of his new parts. the feeling of restraint caused him to grow frustrated. he glanced into the kitchen, seeing as hank had passed out on the table after a few drinks; it would have been unfortunate for hank to see him in such a state.

getting up, connor made his way to the bathroom, gently shutting the door as he made his way to the lock, twisting the small knob. he thought of the best approach to handle his tension, shaking his head out of what would seem to be embarrassment.

reaching his palm to his hardening length, he gently palmed his arousal, hips bucking into his hand. his head was thrown back as he closed his eyes, guttural, soft moans leaving his mouth.

just how would she act?

would she be obedient?

would the softness in her eyes drown with arousal as she was touched?

he unbuttoned his pants.

would she be embarrassed?

muffling her sounds with the back of her palm as she was filled with him.

fuck.

would she grow a flustered expression at the thought of being with an android?

his pants and boxer briefs were pushed down mid thigh, his hand stroking his length sloppily. the sensors in his leaking cock driving him insane.

how would she sound?

how would she whimper as she's being gripped, as bruises form on her hips?

he could feel himself throb at the thought of easily manhandling her. gripping her plush hips, her thighs. the way her angelic expression would form such lewd expressions. his system stuttered as he neared his release, getting caught up in his own “imagination”.

he could only imagine how she would look wrapped in his coat.

her uniform hiked up her thighs as he towered over her.

the scent of their arousal mixed together.

the way she'd say his name.

fuck.

connor's hips stuttered as white stripes littered his hand, the lube-like substance staining his hand. his thirium pump shakily slowed down as he cleaned himself, washing off his hands.

he glanced at himself in the mirror, taking in his expression, and gave his head a soft shake.

he really needed to settle himself, and figure out a solution, because this. this is not a solution.

#dbh connor #rk800 x reader #connor x reader #dom!connor #sub!reader #female!reader #chubby!reader #short!reader #detroit become human #connor imagine #connor x y/n #connor x you #connor smut

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janaispunk · 6 months

Text

delicate, isn’t it?

series masterlist • this is part III

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

a/n: I’m sorry that this took forever and I’m also sorry about the amount of angst that’s awaiting you. I’ll promise right now, this will have a happy ending. All the love to @maximoff-forevermore for talking smut with me for hours, I would still be completely stuck if you hadn’t let me ramble to you about this. <3

word count: ~5k

summary: Dave has a nightmare, then you both have confusing feelings and don’t talk about it. More sex leads to even more confusion.

warnings: ANGST, bits of fluff if you squint, dubious morals (Dave is cheating on his wife), age-gap implied, able-bodied reader, Dave pulls her hair, dom!Dave, sub!reader, rough sex, sir kink, degradation kink, fingering, rough oral sex (m receiving), unprotected p in v (reader is on birth control in my head, but it’s not mentioned in the fic), dirty talk, Dave is a menace, face & ass slapping, use of restraints, use of a belt as a collar, allusions to knife play and gun play, spitting, lack of emotional aftercare, everything about their dynamic is a little questionable in this, they have issues okay, idiots in love, let me know if I missed any!

this is explicit 18+ content, minors do not interact pleaseeeee

dividers by @saradika <3

find my full masterlist here!

“My perfect girl.”

The words echo in your mind, your thoughts twisting around them, trying to discern every possible meaning to them, long after Dave has already dozed off beside you. His girl. Your heart flutters at the thought, no matter how hard you try to suppress it.

He has been possessive before, calling you his slut, making you repeat back to him how your pussy is his alone, both of you getting off on it. But he has never called you his girl before, and never like this. Like something that he’d say to an actual girlfriend. Did he mean it like that, or was it just something that slipped out in his post-orgasmic haze? Your thoughts keep circling until the sound of Dave’s soft breathing eventually lulls you to sleep as well.

You jerk awake to a shout and movement beside you.

The hotel room is plunged in darkness, only illuminated by the faint moonlight that’s falling through the big glass windows. You lie there, your heart racing, both your mind and your eyes still adjusting to waking up so abruptly. For a moment you can’t place what’s disturbed your sleep in the first place. Then Dave cries out again, a strangely panicked sound that you’ve never heard from him before.

You sit up, trying to make out his face in the minimal light. His eyes are tightly screwed shut and he’s mumbling under his breath. “Dave?” you whisper, slowly reaching for his shoulder when he doesn’t respond. You shake it cautiously, trying his name again, a little louder this time.

His eyes fly open, one hand instantly wrapping around your wrist where you’re touching him, engulfing it in a steely grip. He seems disoriented, his eyes wide with panic, his breaths coming in short gasps. “Hey,” you murmur, his gaze flickering to your face, confusion washing over his features, “it’s- it’s me. You- I think you had a nightmare.” He mutters your name, sounding more like a question, and you nod quickly. He breathes in deeply, the hold on your wrist loosening, his hand coming up to cup your face instead, stroking over your cheek like he has to convince himself that you’re really there.

“Are you hurt?” he inquires, and you shake your head.

“I’m good, nothing happened. You just had a bad dream.” He hums, sounding somewhat unconvinced and you move closer to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into you. He lets you, his breath coming heavy against your neck, his large frame still trembling slightly. You press your lips into his hair, noting somewhere in the back of your mind that you’ve never held him like this before.

“It’s okay. You’re safe, we’re safe,” you murmur, feeling his arms moving around your middle, hugging your body against his, “everything’s okay, I promise. It was just a dream.” You place another kiss onto his hair and think you can feel him nod.

Then his arms tighten around you again. “Are the girls alright?” he asks, a new kind of worry tinging his voice. More frantic, closer to panic than before. You bite your lip.

“I don’t- I’m sorry, I don’t know,” you admit, “we’re at the hotel, remember?” His arms don’t relax. “But I’m sure they’re fine. They’re most likely asleep right now, but you can call them in the morning?” you suggest, feeling unsure how to navigate this situation. Usually, Dave is the calm one, the one to comfort you and tell you that everything’s okay.

He nods again, a little stronger this time. “Yeah… But you’re okay?” he asks again, the genuine worry in his tone almost breaking your heart.

“Yes,” you confirm, trying to keep your voice as calm and reassuring as you can, “I’m okay, everybody’s safe, I promise.” He hums again, his arms still tight around you, but you can feel him slowly start to unwind and relax.

It takes you a long time to fall back asleep, your mind trying to connect the man who’s in your arms right now with the man you know, the man who always seems so sure and in control of everything.

When you wake up again, the bed beside you is empty and you can hear the shower running. It takes a few moments until you remember the night’s events clearly. The shower turns off and Dave emerges from the en-suite, a towel wrapped around his hips. For once, the sight of his naked torso doesn’t instantly leave you breathless.

“Good morning,” you say, giving him a small smile as you sit up on the bed, the blanket still wrapped around you.

“Morning,” he replies, not really looking at you as he picks out his clothes for the day. His voice isn’t cold, just kind of… impersonal. Not the warmth and playfulness that you’ve gotten used to over the past few days.

You worry your lip between your teeth, unsure of how to proceed, but eventually take a deep breath and ask, “Is everything okay?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t it be?” He doesn’t turn around from the closet, the dismissiveness clear in his voice.

“Just- because of last night, I thought…” You wish your voice wouldn’t sound as small as it does. You also wish he would look at you.

“It was just a dream. Sorry that I woke you up.” He throws you a quick glance over his shoulder, his face looking like a mask, devoid of any emotion.

“No, don’t be sorry. But it seemed pretty intense, so I just wanted to say, if you want to talk about it…” You trail off again, his closed off demeanor putting you on edge.

“I’ve just been under a lot of stress lately. Not much to talk about.” He finally turns around and looks you dead in the eye. Giving you the clear indication that he doesn’t want to expand on the subject. You nod. This is what he always says when he’s especially riled up. That he’s stressed, that he doesn’t want to talk about it. You don’t pry, you never have. But right now, you wish that he would let you in, that you could be someone he trusts enough to open up to.

You don’t say any of that, you mutter an “okay” and take off for a quick shower yourself, mostly just to escape from the room. When you walk back out, he’s sitting in one of the armchairs in the living area, with his phone in his hand. He looks up at your approaching footsteps, still with that weirdly distant look in his eyes.

“Listen, I just gotta call the girls real quick, make sure that everything’s alright at home. Okay?”

And you get it. Of course you get it. Dave doesn’t talk about his daughters often, but when he does, it’s obvious how much he loves them. It’s one of the things that you like about him. It’s you who suggested calling them last night, after all.

So you get it, you really do. It doesn’t make the sharp sting in your chest at the way he so casually says “at home” hurt any less. Because his family is his home and you are not, because it doesn’t matter if you held him in the dark of night and whispered over and over that he’s safe and that everything is okay, or if he called you his perfect girl and pulled you into his chest less than 24 hours ago, or if you’re only on this island because he thought that you deserved something this nice.

And it’s your own damn fault because somewhere along the way you’ve apparently deluded yourself into thinking that you could be something more for him, like he hasn’t been crystal clear about his intentions, about his family life, which already exists and which you’re not part of.

So you just nod, mumbling something about getting dressed, and wander back to the bedroom, while he’s already holding his phone up against his ear. And you don’t try to listen in, you really don’t, but as big as the suite is, the sound of his voice still carries.

“Morning, Carol.”

You freeze. Obviously he’s calling his wife, not the girls themselves. They’re young, you know that. So he’s calling their mom, who is his wife. You know that. You’ve just never- she has been more of an abstract concept to you, not someone on the other line of a phone call mere feet away from you. A phone call from her husband, who you are on a fucking vacation with, playing honeymoon, while she’s at home with their kids. Suddenly, you feel sick.

“No, everything’s fine. Work’s going well, I should be back by the end of the week.”

He sounds so… normal. Not unfriendly, not cold. Not that different from how he normally sounds when he’s talking to you. You’re not sure what you expected, they’re living together after all, of course they’re speaking to each other like normal human beings. They’re married, they’re raising kids together for crying out loud. Who knows if she’s even aware of any issues with their marriage, a cruel voice inside your head whispers. You don’t want to believe that Dave would lie to you about this, but do you know? No.

You think it would be easier if you could immediately hear that they hate each other. You almost wish that they hated each other. Then you feel bad because they have kids, kids who shouldn’t experience what that’s like.

You haven’t been paying attention to Dave talking anymore, too caught up in the sudden realization that his wife is a real person, but then his tone changes drastically.

“Hello baby, how’s it going? …no, Daddy just wanted to say hi.”

Now he sounds warm. Genuine, caring. Sweeter than you have ever heard him. You smile to yourself before you can stop it.

Out of the sudden, you’re hit with your mind conjuring up a vivid image of a little girl, talking to Dave on the phone. You don’t know what his daughters look like, but the girl that you’re seeing right now has his deep brown eyes and pouty lips, but your hair and the shape of your nose. Before you can help it, you’re envisioning him talking with your kids, raising them together, a life that you would have built with each other. You don’t even know if you want kids, if you want this kind of life, and the sudden intensity with which you’re longing for this vision, for this kind of domesticity with him, knocks the air out of your lungs.

You’re in way too deep. You rush into the bathroom and close the door behind you, suddenly terrified to hear another word of this phone call. You splash cold water on your face, desperately trying to calm yourself back down, your breath coming in short gasps. It’s too much, too much, all way too much. You shake your head at yourself; how could you let yourself get this far?

When you can no longer hear the murmur of his voice through the door, you surmise that it’s safe to leave the en-suite again. Trying to put on a face that doesn’t suggest that you’ve been close to a mental breakdown minutes ago.

“You okay, sweetheart?” You nod, not meeting his gaze.

“Yeah, of course. Just tired.” Your small smile doesn’t feel convincing to yourself and you know that he’s not convinced either. That he can tell when you’re lying. He looks at you for a beat longer, then mutters “alright” and stands up. There’s a tension around his mouth, something hardening him from the inside. You bite your lip, still not meeting his eyes.

You think back to the day before, how he teased you about your bikini, could barely keep his hands to himself. Not a hint of that playfulness can be found today.

“Is everything good? At- at home?” you ask, forcing your face into a neutral expression.

“Yeah,” Dave answers, a smile dancing over his features like he can’t help himself, “they’re fine.” You nod again, not sure what to say.

You spend the day on the hotel premises, lounging around on a big terrace in the shade, overlooking the ocean. Any other day, you’d be in awe of the view in front of you, but today you barely see it. You try reading your book while Dave is typing away on his laptop, but the sentences vanish from your mind as soon as you’ve read them without making any sense.

You try speaking to Dave a few times when the silence between you two becomes too deafening for you to bear it any longer, but his face remains a hard mask and his short, clipped answers make your heart sting so painfully that you eventually stop talking. You still don’t know what exactly went wrong. Has he realised that he misses his family, now that he’s talked to them? Did you do something, or did he see on your face how much you want him and now he’s trying to let you down without having to actually say it out loud? Does he want to go home early? You know that you’re spiraling, but you just can’t stop.

The elevator ride back up to your suite in the early evening is quiet. “I think we’ll just order room service, yeah? I can’t be bothered with that whole dinner thing tonight,” his voice suddenly breaks the tense silence between you. You almost flinch, your eyes flying up to meet his.

“O-okay,” you breathe. He’s annoyed by your presence, isn’t he? Can’t even bear the thought of another dinner with you. He’s realised he doesn’t want you here anymore, the voice of insecurity in your mind whispers.

You’re not sure what emotions are showing on your face, but a hint of uncertainty flies across his features. “Unless you want to…?” he asks, raising his eyebrows. You quickly shake your head. Don’t be more of a burden than you already are.

“No, that- that’s good. Room service sounds good.” You give him the most convincing smile that you can muster and he frowns, but doesn’t ask again.

You wouldn’t have thought it to be possible, but Dave grows even more rigid as you’re nearing the suite, the tension rolling off of him in waves. He holds the card to the sensor, lets you step in first, the door clicking shut behind him. His large hand suddenly wraps around your upper arm, pressing into your flesh almost painfully.

“Strip. Right now. Then get on your knees.” His voice is dark, close to your ear, where he’s looming behind you.

You almost want to cry with relief. Relief that, no matter what is happening right now, at least he still wants this part of you. You want to submit to him, let him take the reins. This is what you know, what you’re good at. With him. For him. A familiar dynamic that you can let yourself sink into, where you know what to expect from him, after being on this edge of painful uncertainty all day.

You’ve barely pulled your top over your head when his hand is back on your shoulder, roughly pushing you down. “I said, on your knees,” he snarls, his hand fisting your hair and pulling until your neck is uncomfortably bent, your face turned up towards him. “Are you too dumb to follow the simplest instructions?” He gives your hair a harsh tug and you whimper.

“N-no, please. I’m sorry, sir.”

Dave grins. He looks menacing, still looming over you in that threatening way that he turns into when he’s dominating you, but he also looks more… at ease. As if he’s letting himself fall into this familiar game too, just like you.

“I’d tell you to go to the bedroom, but who knows if that would even register in that empty head of yours, huh? Guess I’ll be generous and help you.”

He lets go of your hair and slowly opens his belt, pulling it through the belt loops. You gulp as he fastens it around your neck instead, giving it an experimental tug that pulls it tighter. A moan escapes you and he chuckles. “Yeah, that turns you on? Being put on a leash like a fucking dog?”

Your face heats up in shame and your gaze drops down, but you can’t deny the wave of arousal that washes over you at his words. Your reply doesn’t come quick enough and Dave gives another sharp tug that has you gasping for air, then his palm connects harshly with your face. “You look at me and answer when I’m talking to you, you disrespectful little bitch.” You have been on the verge of tears for the better half of the day, but now, prompted by the sudden pain in your cheek, they’re finally spilling over.

You’re thankful for the outlet, to let some of your emotions pour out of you, even if it’s in this different context. You train your eyes on his face again and choke out “yes, it- fuck- it turns me on, thank you sir,” causing a wide grin to spread across his face.

He leans down to you, patting your stinging cheek in mock sympathy. “I know doll, I know just what a fucked up little thing you are. You want me to make you cry, don’t you?” It’s part of the game, technically, but you can tell how his gaze is sobering up for a moment, how he searches your face for any sign of genuine discomfort, any sign that you might not want this.

Just as sincerely, you look back into his eyes, giving him the reassurance that this is exactly what you want right now. “Yes, please sir.”

He slaps your face once more, then pulls himself up to his full height and looks down at you, the belt still tightly grasped in his hand. “Let’s go then, see if there’s anything that you’re good for.” He marches off towards the bedroom, dragging you with him. You scramble along, trying to keep up with his long steps, and he laughs when the belt draws tight around your throat, making you choke beside him.

You’re gasping for breath when Dave finally stops in front of the bed and frowns down at you. “You’re slow, doll. Not very well-trained.” He smirks at you. “We gotta work on that.” You choke out an apology that he dismisses with a lazy wave of his hand. “I don’t wanna hear it, we can put that mouth to much better use than your pathetic talking. Open wide… good girl.” You lips fall open almost on their own accord before he has even finished his sentence, your whole body desperate to please him and his praise has you glowing.

The mix of being degraded and praised almost simultaneously has your arousal rising quickly and you have to force yourself to not rub your thighs together as you’re kneeling before Dave, your mouth wide open and waiting while he’s smirking down at you, slowly undoing the buttons on his shirt one by one and taking it off before he finally moves on to his pants where his bulge is already straining against the fabric.

By the time that he pushes down his pants and underwear, drool is slowly dripping out of your obediently opened mouth. Dave lets his cock rest heavily on your tongue for a few moments, then he pulls back out of your mouth and uses his cock head to spread your saliva and his precum across your face. You whimper but hold still and he tuts at you. “Don’t get impatient on me doll, I’ll fuck your face soon enough. Are you that desperate to choke on my cock?”

“Yes, sir,” you whisper and he barks a laugh, then promptly shoves himself into your waiting mouth, hitting your throat on the first thrust and immediately causing you to gag. Tears start falling from your eyes again but you keep you gaze trained on his face, the need to please him stronger than anything else.

“Good girl, fuck you’re such a good girl,” he mutters, repeatedly burying his length in your throat, making you choke and sputter around him.

One hand is fisted into your hair, not letting you back away if you tried to, while the other is tightening the belt around your throat again. The added pressure from the outside has you choking even harder and Dave groans above you.

When he finally pulls out of your mouth, your face is wet with tears and spit and your pussy is burning with desire. Dave knows, somehow he always knows exactly what you need, and yanks you up until you’re standing, then pushes you onto all fours on the bed. “Spread your legs. Wider. Show me that slutty little cunt of yours, sweetheart,” he demands, and you obey, moving your legs wider apart and arching your back, putting yourself on full display for him.

“Good girl, so desperate, huh?” he coos and sinks two of his thick fingers inside you, lazily thrusting in a few times. Your hips push back eagerly, making him chuckle. “What do you want doll, huh? Tell me.” Your voice comes out breathy, the side of your face smushed into the sheets.

“M-more, please sir, please.” He pulls out of you, then adds a third finger and pushes into you even more forcefully than before. Your loud moan echoes through the room and he chuckles again.

“Yeah that’s good… I’d bet you’d let me stuff that greedy cunt with just about anything, wouldn’t you?” He curls his fingers inside of you, pressing into that spongy spot that makes stars dance across your vision and your “yes” comes out as a whine.

“That knife’s handle from yesterday, for example… How would you like that?” You feel like you’re barely coherent at this point, the pleasure that his fingers and his dirty words are creating so intense that it’s almost too much.

“Please please please…” you whimper and feel Dave’s hand come down hard on your ass.

“You’d probably even let me put a gun in here, huh, no complaints as long has you just get fucked somehow?” Your eyes widen at the thought, pure excitement thrumming through your veins and you clench hard around Dave’s fingers, another wave of wetness dripping out of you.

Dave’s laughter behind you sounds almost incredulous. “Fuck, yeah you’d like that. You dirty fucking whore, needing that pussy stuffed so badly…” His fingers keep working you relentlessly, thrusting into you and hitting your g-spot again and again until your legs are shaking, your hands helplessly curling into the bedsheets.

Your orgasm is approaching fast, your walls clenching around his fingers and you gasp out, “Sir, please, I-” but Dave yanks his hand away from you and roughly smacks your ass.

“Don’t you dare,” he snarls and you bury your face into the mattress, fresh tears forming in your eyes at the denied orgasm.

“What made you think you deserve that, huh? Fucking greedy,” he seethes, running his hand over the hot skin of your ass a few times, causing you to shiver. “Give me your hands,” he demands and you obey without thinking, earning yourself another whispered “good girl” and a soft caress on your forearm that causes goosebumps to spread, before he gathers both your wrists in his hand and binds them together behind your back. You think faintly that he might be using one of his ties, the material soft but firm when you try moving your hands.

Before you can form any more thoughts on the matter, a rough yank on the belt that’s still wrapped around your throat jolts you backwards. Your choked gasp dies in your throat as Dave slams into you without warning, his cock stretching you open with that sting of painful pleasure that you’ve come to love.

“So fucking wet… Your needy little pussy is screaming for me, doll. Don’t worry, I’m gonna give you what you need.” He pulls out and fucks back into you with a snarl, setting a rhythm that would push you up the bed if it wasn’t for the belt around your neck. Dave is holding onto it tightly, pulling you back into his body by your throat, only allowing you to take quick small breaths and forcing you to arch your back intensely to accommodate him.

Your position causes him to hit you at an angle that has stars bursting behind your eyelids, his cock slamming straight into your g-spot with every thrust. His other hand is landing slaps on your backside that have you crying out and clenching around him, before he grips your hip in a way that you’re sure will leave bruises and steadies you, somehow intensifying the force of his thrusts even more.

You’re whimpering into the sheets, strings of please and sir and thank you leaving your mouth when you’re not choking on the tightening restraint around your throat, until Dave grabs your shoulder and roughly yanks you up until you’re leaning against his chest, his cock still hammering into you and obscene moans leaving your mouth. His fingers dip down to your clit, spreading your overflowing wetness over the sensitive nub and rubbing in tight little circles, making you clamp down on him almost immediately. “Please sir, I’m gonna- I can’t hold it, please,” you manage to gasp and feel him nodding beside you.

“Go on doll, come for me,” he rasps, his voice sounding completely wrecked and his thrusts hitting you impossibly deep. You all but scream out his name as you tense up, your orgasm spreading from your core through your entire body, your limbs trembling as Dave holds you close to his chest and lets you ride out your high until you calm down. The side of your face is pressed against his chest and you breathe heavily, your lips spreading kisses across the sweat-soaked skin that you can reach and you can’t help but smile up at him in your post-orgasmic bliss.

“Fuck, come here, fuck-” Dave suddenly pulls out of you and you can feel him roughly yanking at the tie around your wrists until it becomes loose, then he flips you around until you’re on your back underneath him, the change happening so quickly that you’re disoriented for a moment. He thrusts back inside of you and resumes his brutal rhythm without wasting a second, the new angle in your already overstimulated pussy making you gasp for breath and your hands come up instinctually after being restrained until now, grasping at his shoulders, your nails digging into the muscles there.

“Fuck!” he swears again, then he’s cupping your face and his mouth is on yours, his lips moving urgently against yours, his tongue demanding entry and licking into your mouth, causing you to moan loudly. You faintly note in the back of your mind that he hasn’t kissed you all day, something you hadn’t fully realized up until now, and you hold onto him even tighter, pouring all of your pent up feelings into this kiss. Dave groans, his mouth bruising against yours and his hands all over your face. His hips stutter and then he stills, filling you up with his cum as he’s breathing heavily against your lips.

He stays like this for a few more moments until he rolls off of you, his mouth not touching yours again. He goes through the motions, cleaning you off, checking you for injuries, making sure that you’re alright, but it feels mechanical, like he’s not fully there. You think that if he looked at you with more than just those fleeting glances, he’d be able to see the confusion and hurt written on your face, but he never does.

He does eventually order room service, but you don’t feel like eating much. You’re absentmindedly nibbling on fries, both of your faces turned towards the TV on the opposite wall that he’s turned on for the first time since you arrived two days ago. Nothing that you see really registers, your mind far away, mulling over everything that happened between you, every little interaction, trying to figure out where things went wrong. You just don’t know. How is it possible that you’ve realized only today how much you’ve fallen for him, and meanwhile it seems like he doesn’t want you anymore, at least not in the way that you’ve come to get used to over the past days?

But then, what did the kiss mean? Why would he do that, if he didn’t feel something for you? But if he did, why would he act the way he did today? You’re running in circles and you wish that you were less afraid to just ask him, but you’ve never talked about feelings and you can’t bring yourself to do it now when you’re already terrified that he might have had enough of you.

When he turns off the TV and the lights, you wait until you’re sure that he’s asleep before you let yourself cry. Silently, with your back turned to him, staining your pillow with salty tears, careful not to let any sobs slip out. This is better than nothing, you try reminding yourself. Better than not having him at all. This was the deal from the start. It’s your own fault for getting this attached, for wanting more than you’ve been offered, you know that.

You flinch violently when an arm wraps around your torso from behind, the hand trailing up to touch your cheek, stroking through the wet tracks there.

“Sweetheart? What’s wrong?”

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series masterlist

#janas fics #the dress series #dave york #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x f!reader #dave york x female reader #the equalizer 2 #the equalizer 2 fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedrostories

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