#fic: fwb

[1800titz]

HI FRIENDS. WOOOOOOOOOOO. Camprry. Aimed for 5K or less and managed to get wordy again. Reader insert and basically pure smut. This one was supposed to be vanilla with some praise kink (and exhibitionism if you SQUINT since it’s in a tent) but….. hahahahaha….. WEEEELLLLLLL.

CONTENT WARNINGS: oral sex, face fucking, exhibitionism-ish if you squint, choking-ish if you squint, light dom/sub, praise kink, daddy kink, intercourse

WC: 7.5K (whoops)

There is nothing remotely sexy about a camping trip. 

In fact, Y/N thinks that if she were to deduce a list of words upon first thought when it came to camping, sexy would be the furthest one from qualifying. 

There’s nothing sexy about reverting to caveman-ism, sleeping on the ground, sheathed by some paper-thin layer of nylon and polyester and plastic support beams. There’s nothing sexy about pit stains from the lack of air conditioning or its antithetical twin sister, the bumps that rise over chilly skin and trembling bones without the luxury of an electric heater. There’s nothing innately erotic about kindling fire like electricity doesn’t exist, and cooking hot dogs on skewers over the flame, and perpetually swatting at insects that incessantly stick to shins and calves like the flesh there is coated in sugar. 

There is something sexy, though, when it comes to the way Harry’s arms work as he pitches a tent, bi’s and tri’s intermingling in an alluring duet, pumping and settling with each motion. The sleeves of his tee ride up when he raises the limbs, and sunlight catches shadow in ridge and sinew of muscle. There’s something sexy in the way his back ripples, in the way that thin fabric does nothing to cover what she imagines — no, what she’s well aware lies underneath. The same traps and lats she’s scraped her nails over and dug into. The same shoulders she’s sunk her teeth into to bridle cries of bliss. 

There’s something hot about the cinch in his brow when he works, something alluring in the curl at the plush of his mouth when he turns his head and beams lopsidedly at something that their friend has said, too low for Y/N to catch. There’s something sexy in the way that his eyes skim her frame when she’s sitting in a fold-out chair with sunglasses. When his eyes glide over his shoulder. It’s in the most subtle way. There’s something sexy in the way he tears that gaze away. 

There’s something sexy in the way that no one around them knows she spends nights bouncing on his cock. 

This lustrous affair — this sneaky fling. This filthy, dirty secret that only the two of them share, slinking and sidling through the shadows. 

Really, it’s nothing more than a raunchy circumstance of friends-with-benefits, only kept on the down-low to evade prying questions from friends and the sickly confrontation of …feelings. Because it’d be easy to admit they’re fucking, that they’ve been hooking up for months after an impromptu, late night of drinking. But then it’s sort of cementing, right? At least, in a way. 

There’s a status that floats about when you confess you’re sleeping with somebody — when you admit that you’ve entangled them into your routine beyond one mishap of sex. In the eyes of your friends, admitting that you’ve upkept a sex buddy through the roll of the seasons is, like. Well, it’s basically admitting some form of something sentimental. 

They’re just fucking. They’re just friends that fuck. And the way that nobody around them has any sort of suspicion that he’ll most likely be slipping into her tent in the midst of the night for that... 

That’s sexy, the young woman thinks. 

They’re coiled around the campfire once the sun has ducked out and simmered off behind the trees, and Y/N thinks about it. She watches the shape of his features glow beyond the crackle of the flame, and she thinks about the way his nose bumps over her clit when he licks into her. She watches his mouth move when he talks, a muted strawberry that’s dimmed in the night, and she thinks about the cushion of it pressing open-mouthed kisses to her flesh. She’s in his sweatshirt, because she had to borrow one, and it smells like him. She’s coated in it — his scent. Warm, pleasant musk and remnants of tantalizing cologne. It reminds her of the way the same sweatshirt had been discarded and draped over the foot of her bed haphazardly one night, as he kneed his way onto the mattress and clambered over her, fingertips exploring and tongue trailing. It reminds her of the way he smells when he brushes past her in the company of others, just solid weight and warmth. He does it nonchalantly, but the green of his eyes is knowing and flirtatious. That’s when the same scent teases her senses. It reminds her of the way he smells when he’s up close and personal, when he’s rocking against her and groaning softly into the nook between her shoulder and her neck. 

She stares at his hands — the way they lay over the armrests of his fold-out, the way lengthy digits adorned with chunky rings cradle a can of beer. She imagines the same fingers wrapped over her throat, squeezing lightly, in that way that he does. 

Y/N isn’t panting into the chill of the air. The white of her exhales just surface …quicker. His hands, and his smell, and his mouth are entirely irrelevant to the matter. 

By the time they all retire to their respective tents, the young woman is pleased to get a breather from his hands and his …ludicrously plush, smiley mouth. At least in a public circumstance, so she can’t be caught fawning over his mannerisms from a distance. The smell …she can’t escape that. In all honesty, it should be shameful, basking in the scent of a sweatshirt. Instead, she coils up in it under the covers.

She’s turned on her side with gritty rock coursing through wire, chords of guitar and drums rippling out from the little speakers in her ears, entirely engrossed as she scrolls through what little apps can manage access without a durable station of wifi. 

Y/N nearly squeals when an arm slinks over her chest, when a palm nudges over her mouth. And then another hand is plucking at one of the earbuds, giving her leeway into the crinkle of the sleeping bag, crickets, and the sound of bated breaths behind her. 

A low baritone, hushed and teasing against the same ear where the earbud’s been removed, “Easy, baby.” 

The gentle murmur that his lips shape does, frankly, little to soothe the hammer of her heart. In fact, if anything, the muscle soars in pace behind bone with the way cushiony pink grazes her jaw, the way his warm weight presses up behind her. 

“Easy.” 

She’d sit up and turn over her shoulder if she had the opportunity, but the same inky, muscly arm she’d admired hours earlier cradles over, preventing the motion. Harry can tell too, evidently, based on his soft snicker. He’s pleased from the way her head juts to steal a peer back. He’s pleased when she doesn’t succeed.

Instead of letting up, he takes the same earbud he’d pulled out and presses it into his own ear so that they’re sharing the set, crooning, “What are you listening to? Hm?” 

He sponges another kiss to the side of her throat, a stray tendril flopping over his forehead. Y/N knows that he’s listening to it, too, then. She knows from the playful, little nudge of his head with the rhythm, from the way the cord of the earbuds grows taut, from the sound of mirth he muzzles to her skin when he drives his mouth over the side of her neck. The young woman wriggles her arm, just enough for his grip to loosen, and then uses the opportunity to raise her head to take her own earbud out. The motion jostles Harry from the nook he’s seemingly made homage in, and he nips at her earlobe in protest. Anyways, the whole thing sends a chill wracking down her shoulders. 

When he lets up, Y/N twists in his grasp to her back. The earbuds splay over her chest, his own discarded, too. There’s still music seeping softly. She blinks, gaze tracing over his features, basked in shadow and soft amusement. 

“Hey,” she croaks, her voice catching on a crack with the effort to keep quiet. 

And Harry drags a thumb down her stomach, fingers meddling where the fabric of her (no, his) hoodie has rucked up. The ticklish sensation makes her shift a little. His mouth quirks, and he smooths over the same spot again. 

“Hey, you.” 

Her lips part and her tummy jolts when he slips the chilly pad of his thumb back over the line he’d run for a third time. She wants to bring her own hand up and trace the contours of his cocky mouth with her fingertips. It shapes the words, like baritone bathed in honey, “Ticklish?” 

When he brushes over a fourth time, her arm twitches, and her hand shoots for his wrist, squeezing lightly. Corners of muted pink spring up, dimples scoring softly. 

“Yes,” she gripes in a whisper, but the gripe doesn’t come out very gripey at all. Instead, it’s sort of small — that’s on account of his warm weight shifting onto her. Which is a new development, and it’s one that stirs something familiar and warm below the sleeping bag she’s nestled into, half-zipped and mostly just thrown over. 

His sturdy thigh slips in the empty gap between her own, and Harry ducks his head, the dimples deepening and the glint of white teeth escaping through the part of his lips. And then he dips lower until his face is nearly tucked into her hair. 

“I missed you,” his admission is soft-spoken. It’d be sort of tender if it didn’t come out so …hungry. 

Y/N takes in a little, shuddery breath. The same hand that's settled over her hipbone comes up to brush hair away from her throat, and a mouth stipples kisses over her pulse. His voice is a raspy, desirous tease, “Did you miss me?” 

Christ. She thinks that maybe if he were telepathic and had even a brief glimpse into the filthy things that’d cycled behind her skull for the duration of the day, then he’d only be more smug. 

That’s dangerous. 

She’s glad he isn’t. 

The young woman hums — an apathetic sound that feigns contemplation, like his touch doesn’t light every nerve ending in her system on fire, like she hasn’t spent hours staring at his arms, his mouth, his hands. Like she hasn’t been picturing expanses of muscle and skin hidden under his tee, imagining her tongue tracing through the vales of his v-line and her fingertips following the trail of hair below his belly button, slipping lower and lower…

“No?” Harry murmurs, lips bumping wetly over her flesh. What follows is a gentle exhale, and then his mouth is sponging another open-mouthed kiss, and his tongue brushes warmth against her, like he’s petting with it over her pulse. He caresses all the way back to her ear. Something dirty and thrilling slinks down the knobs of her spine when he mumbles, unconvinced, “I think you’re lying to me, little miss.” 

Her breath stutters. 

“I think,” Harry muses, fingers dipping beneath the shroud of the sleeping bag and smoothing back over her waist testingly, “that if I had a look right now, you’d be a drippy mess.”

Her throat bobs on a swallow. Petulantly, and so obviously feigning, Y/N tips her chin back and tells him, “…Not at all.”

Instead of smoothing tips of digits back over the naked, little expanse of skin again, they venture lower, teasing at the waistband of her sleep shorts. “I think your sweet, little pussy would tell me otherwise, wouldn’t it, pet?” 

Another deep breath rolls her chest under the cushioned sheet of fabric when fingertips dwell in. Just centimeters, practically. They retreat. Harry presses another kiss just below her ear. 

“Hm? It’s been so empty all day long. Achy, I bet.” Chills rise awake all over when he murmurs, purely condescending pity painting every syllable, “Poor baby.” 

He’s always had it — this gift of filthy, dirty gab. This ability to render her craving and wanting with his words like it’s innate, practically. She shouldn’t be surprised when he shifts over her, just enough for her to feel how hard he is, tips of his curls tickling at her cheek, “Could stuff it full. Make it all better.” 

Y/N sighs. Finally. Like it’s a release of the whole act, and the seams of it come apart to bliss when he nips with his teeth. She cranes her neck to give him more room to work. 

“Would you like that?” 

And she would, she thinks. Very, very much, and his lingering fingers — when they pull out and he hooks a thumb in and just tugs down a smidge — remind her of how hot she suddenly is. How hot everything is, despite the chill in the air. Instead of answering, the young woman nudges with her chin — a nod. An unsatisfactory one, evidently. 

“Words,” Harry mutters. It’s gentle, and quiet, and she hopes the polar opposite of the way he’s going to fuck her.

She cranes her neck more and splays her thighs what little she can under his weight. It’s kind of a plea. It’s also sort of pathetic. “Yes.” 

But it makes his mouth crook. His palm draws away. No. That wasn’t the intended effect. She curbs her sound of protest, but he can tell that it’s bridled in the chamber — she knows because the curl of mirth grows wider. He sits up a bit, bracing on his arms until he hovers over her, and then he sighs, jade sliding to the sector of the bag that’s zipped. Slowly, like he’s teasing, he grips over the notch and tugs. 

“What d’you do if you want me to stop?” Harry beckons, nearly a whisper but not quite, fingers skimming up under his hoodie. The same hoodie clings to her flesh, and every nerve sparks alive at the touch, striking her lungs to expand heavier. The air catches when the pads of his fingers graze up the vale of her sides and siphon a flinch. 

“Teacup,” Y/N breathes the safeword in response, and the fingertips climb her ribs like a staircase, pleased. 

“Good girl,” He tells her, and the pads sink back over, bumping over the ridges, and he tugs the fabric up over her chest. 

Her bra is red. It’s a nice detail, all lacy cupped over her chest. He draws the tip of an index over the edge and says, “Cheeky,” like his comment isn’t, “…Did you wear this to get fucked?” 

The young woman gnaws at her lip. Innately, it’s not an accurate statement. She didn’t wear it to get fucked — not when she knew he’d be slipping into her tent in the midst of the night and fucking into her regardless of the state of her underthings. But it’s a nice touch when he ducks, palm squeezing over one of her tits, and tacks on all low against her ear, like it’s praise, “Because you know I love you in red, pet.” 

The satisfaction of pleasing him buds in her chest, right at the core of her ribcage, warmth pitted deep, and it slinks out like beams of gooey sunshine, winding and seeping through the cavity until her veins practically thrum yellow. She’s buzzing beneath him, pulse thumping and fibers of muscle twitching. It makes his mouth curve — the way he feels her trembling under him like she’s a taut string, and he traces a thumb over her mouth. 

Then jade flits to her chest, and Harry takes the thumb away to hook fingers under the cups and tug. They settle under her tits, perking them, and the way the wire settles over her ribcage isn’t particularly comfortable, but it doesn’t really matter. Not when he shimmies down her body and draws a stripe down with his tongue, all the way from the hollow of her throat to the edge of the bra, settling in between. He kisses down her stomach, green salacious and twinkling up through shadow at her, and his tongue draws a circle around her belly button. His mouth quirks there, too, because it makes her flinch. Because he knew it would. Harry brushes with wet taste buds lower, settles on a side, low on her tummy, and sucks a pressing kiss. Her whole spine wrings and writhes, arching when he pairs the sensation with a dull graze of his hand over a nipple. It’s barely anything, but it’s a touch she longs for. And she doesn’t know why, but it always lights her on fire when the pleasure entwines with something that makes her want to squirm out of her own skin.  

Because when he turns the graze into a pinch and a roll, when he hones on the drag of his tongue and the suckling of his mouth, when he skirts featherlight fingertips up her side like he’s plucking invisible strings, the yellow thrums red, and hot, and hungry. When his mouth lets up and he drags wet lips to curl over the opposite nipple and the featherlight turns more purposeful, squeezing at sensitive flesh, this knocked-out unph escapes her, like a bridled grunt he’s punched from her. Like a half-laugh, like a moan, like a mottled gasp, like discomfort and please-don’t-stop enmeshed, curbed out of desperation. It makes the red fucking neon. 

Harry withdraws with a pop from the bud, and the air bites onto the wet to replace his mouth. The ambiance of rickets and cold reminds her that they’re kind of, sort of, definitely in public, only really shielded from said public (and the intrusive presence of their friend group) by thin sheets of nylon erected with plastic poles. Her eyes say it all then — this hesitation sparking, lashes bouncing and bounding from the nervous shift of her pupils, working from his eyes to his plush mouth and back as he rises to settle over her more. 

“They’re asleep,” he promises, a hushed murmur he seals to her own mouth in a sloppy half-kiss. His top lip ghosts over her cupid's bow, and he smooths a hand back over the vale of her waist where he’d squeezed a second ago. Her chest rolls under him, and her mouth parts, just a little to let a mottled little sound escape, like a wheezing gasp she’s muffled. 

And he muffles it more with his own lips, pressing against her. The sleeping bag rustles, and it’s quiet beyond the stilted sheets barring the wilderness. Harry’s hand skims down. 

“Where do you want me to touch you?” Harry murmurs into her mouth, palm trailing until it stills at the waistband of her shorts, fingertip lingering over an expanse of skin below her belly button that he’s well aware will have her squirming. Y/N jerks. “Here? Or… maybe…”

The young woman practically does a squished, weighted version of a body roll beneath him when he moves his hand to her inner thigh, dragging the pad of his index over the sensitive skin higher up. “Maybe …here? …No, I don’t think so…” 

His tongue licks into her mouth when she opens wider for him, desperate for the taste of him on her tongue, and she nearly gasps over that same tongue — loudly — when his palm cups unceremoniously between her legs. “…I think you want me here. That’s about right, isn’t it?” 

Y/N makes a little noise — it’s something between desperation and wordless agreement, and it quirks the corners of Harry’s mouth, carving dimples in beside his smug beam. The hand withdraws so suddenly she wants to melt into the hungry soil. 

“Yeah, that’s it, sweet thing,” he declares, voice hushed, a bass-deep admission soft-spoken and colored with teasing.

Instead, he presses up until he’s hovering over her and then knees his way back, and then his fingers tuck up under the waistband of her shorts. When he discards them into the beginnings of a pile of clothing beside them, coaxing her hips to rise up enough with a soft word, blood teems into her cheekbones, like it’s all new and foreign. 

It’s not. 

It’s the most comforting and familiar when he traces a fingertip over the cleft at the crotch of her panties, the most familiar when he shimmies his fingertips under the sides of the fabric at her hips and tugs those off, too. It’s familiar when he holds a leg up, fingers gentle at her calf, and sponges kisses up her leg from her ankle to her inner thigh. It’s familiar when his tongue dances over hot, slick, flesh in craving, when it rolls around her clit and circles back. When he’s amused by the proof that he was right, that she is soaked, and his ego inflates like a hot air balloon. It’s familiar in the draw of his tongue, in the brush of his lips, in the way his fingers brush over her thighs, over her hole, over the sensitive areas in between. It’s familiar in the way that she watches stars speckle in the darkness behind her clenched eyelids, in the way that Harry doesn’t let up even as she pants and wrings her own fingers into his curls. In the way that he only responds with a moan against her at the rough treatment of his scalp.  

It’s somewhere between heaven and hell, teetering on the wire, when he laps over her pulsing cunt. His irises flicker up when she shudders, when Y/N makes a futile attempt to clasp her thighs over his head and prevent the light drag of his tongue over her oversensitive button. Instead, he tucks a palm against one of her legs and holds it down, plush lips curling around an ‘o’ and sucking. Every muscle seizes, her fingers twitching and struggling to curl into the thinly stuffed fabric of the sleeping bag. She bridles a whole-body thrash, neck straining as her breath stutters. 

“Please— plea— it’s too much—“ Y/N swallows midway her begging to avoid choking on her own spit, and that’s cute, Harry thinks. 

Aw, Y/N thinks he’d coo up at her from between her thighs, if his mouth wasn’t occupied at her core, those are pretty words. They don’t sound like a safeword, though. 

He doesn’t say that, though. He doesn’t say anything, humming quietly over her clit (honestly, she can’t tell if it’s in protest or agreement) and rolling a slow circle over nerves that are spent and nearly raw post his caress. 

Her chest is still rolling when he clambers his way up onto her, kneeing around her sides and then coaxing her arms up into a stretch. Harry cages those with firm thighs at the roots of the limbs, kneeing his way higher until he’s hovering over her chest and admiring her, all pliant and worn out and obedient beneath him. He sniffs, head cocked and eyes glimmering, and then sighs when he tucks fingers into the waistband of his shorts. Her fingers twitch, outstretched above her. And he’s weightless, and steady, and careful over her, but despite that, filth from his tongue punches her breath out like he’s sat directly over her lungs.

“Gonna suck my cock, baby.” 

It’s not really a question — not in tone. It’s a coo, a declaration, insight before Harry digs his fingers further past elastic and discards two layers of fabric with one tug, and his cock bobs free, glistening with a bead of precum at the head. 

Y/N swipes out over her lips with her tongue, and the sheen of spit over pink nearly matches the glimmer on the pink of his tip. The man cradles his free hand over his base and tucks the waistband lower on his hips, just until it rests under his balls and a glimpse of inked laurels and milky expanses of a bare tan line are on show. Bracing himself with a hand planted on the ground, Harry leans over her and aims his shaft, daubing over the plush of her mouth. When her tongue peeks out to swipe over the silky skin, she thinks he’s going to chastise her for her lack of patience. He doesn’t. Instead, he ogles down at the motion like she’s a goddess, cracks in otherwise apathy morphing; a light crease between his brows, a twitch in his lips. The same lips part for a shuddery breath like he’s trying to reign in his composure. And with every drag of his head over her slippery, hungry taste buds, a slow, side-to-side swipe that seems to lose precision with each motion, those cracks in his control give more. His jaw sets and he takes a long breath in through flared nostrils, and then shifts the palm that’d settled on the ground to rest over her wrists. 

“M’gonna fuck your mouth,” Harry tells her, pupils scoping carefully from her lips to her own eyes in finality. “What do you do if you want me to stop?” 

Y/N blinks. Her fingers twitch. She bends the digits over his grip and squeezes, flexing and unflexing over his own fingers like code in a tempo of frenzy. His gaze doesn’t even flicker from the aim of his tip, and he draws it over her mouth like he’s in awe of the sight.

“Good girl.” 

The young woman takes in a breath, mouth parting over his head slightly, all doe-eyed. He smushes his cockhead to the open seam.

“Open up for me,” the soft croon is accompanied by the tilt of his head, and a stray curl dangles over his forehead when he swipes the tip over her lips, “Nice and wide. Show me that pretty tongue.” 

And it slinks from her mouth as if on mindless command. Harry smears his tip over it like a filthy greeting, and then he feeds his fat cock in, guiding it up until the point to where he’s able to shift his weight onto the hand that doesn’t coat her wrists, careful not to cause the confined joints any discomfort.

“That’s it,” his praise seeps out all breathy, barely over an awed whisper as he sinks in and her tongue flexes to encompass the drag towards her gag reflex, “That’s a good girl.” 

The pointed little end grazes over his balls. 

“Eyes up here, pretty thing,” Harry encourages, ducking his own chin. There’s something pretty in the dance of her lash line, in the way her pupils flit up to his shadowy face, the way her lips tuck over her teeth to cushion his shaft. The way her tongue stays stuck out, flexing under the welcomed intrusion, “…Wanna watch them get all teary.” 

It’s like she tries to appease him. It’s as if on instinct to his words, that her lashes flutter as she tries to peer up, the beginnings of a ready sheen glazing the pretty color there as her tongue twitches and her throat bobs in an attempted swallow.  

And Christ, does it feel good when she does that. 

Harry’s own neck cranes, the muscles there flexing and veins swelling there like little ropes pulled taut under his skin. He groans, and it makes her do it again. His brows are furrowed when he risks a glance down at the picture-perfect view, and his hips nudge forward a smidge, only for him to bask in the sight of her irises lolling back and her lashes batting. A hiss lips through gritted teeth like rain through a gutter, and his head cocks further as he smooths an index to rest over her palm. She doesn’t have her digits balled — not all the way — not until his forefinger rests in her reach. She squeezes over that, almost like it’s an anchor. Something grounding to tether her. 

“Shit,” he manages out, barely over a whisper to bite back a throaty groan, hips rolling and brows furrowed in pleasure, “Shit — you’re good. You’re so good—“

And it makes the twitch of her lashes melt into a flitting bat, the color there rolling back and hiding behind the flutter. She can’t exactly hum in acknowledgment, but Y/N makes this garbled sound around him — this desperate kind she’d only make with his shaft stuffed down her throat, and it’s loud. Too loud. He squeezes over her wrists with his thumb, hips slowing until he’s wedged in to the hilt, stilled with the tip of her nose pressed to the light dusting of his pubic hair.

And Y/N thinks she’s going to implode. She’s going to implode if she doesn’t suffocate over his cock first. 

“Shh, shh,” Harry wriggles the index she’s gripping until her touch loosens enough, and he’s able to stroke the tip over her palm, “Shh.” 

Her pupils flit up to him in this deliciously delirious way for air. Harry tips his head down, the shadow of another curl flopping over his forehead. His cock twitches. Y/N makes another sound over him, this one lower. More pleading. More distressed. Her lashes flutter, cheeks puffing. Just when she’s about to clench and unclench over his fingers, he pulls out. It’s nearly all the way, but not quite, and she wheezes oxygen into her deprived lungs, muffling a fit of coughing. When she turns her head to take in more air, his tip slips out and draws a wet streak of saliva from the corner of her mouth across her cheek. 

“So pretty,” Harry murmurs. His tone sounds distant, and absentminded, and awed, like her mouth is divine and his voice is sort of full of worship, “You take me so well.”

Y/N blinks up at him, lips swollen post his ministrations and parted, slick with spit. Harry adjusts his grip, balancing his weight, and curls his lengthy digits over the base of his cock, aiming it back to that pretty, pretty mouth. 

Her jaw practically unhinges at the implication, tongue sticking out to daub at his cockhead when he croons, “And you’ll take a little more for me, sweetheart. Won’t you?” 

The sultry plush of his mouth curls up, all smug like when the tip of her tongue prods at his head, and then he feeds himself back into the warmth of her mouth. 

“Yeah,” Harry grunts, hips rolling slow and cautious as he guides himself in, “Yeah, you will.” 

He settles back into a pace of shallow, jutting thrusts, slow, and calculated, and testing. But then those melt and meld into something smoother, something deeper that brushes the back of her throat. Her fingers stretch wide and open and curl helplessly, never quite squeezing over his own digits, and Harry basks in the wet, pornographic sounds that envelop his shaft. Even as she tries to dim their volume, the sound of her sputtering around his cock isn’t something she can exactly mask when he brushes her gag reflex, again, and again. With every prod forward, every second she spends with her jaw wide open for him, that flame in her core kindles higher and higher. When he pulls out, jaw clenched and tummy flexing, ridges of his abs caught in the shadows, it’s like he pours kerosene. 

“Suck,” her friend tells her, soft-spoken as he nudges with his hips. His palm cradles his cock, fingers curled under the base. But her range of motion is limited, and Harry tips it up from her wanton, slick lips. Almost like it’s purposeful, because it definitely is.

A tentative tongue slips out to draw over his balls, and the way his front teeth lodge against the plush of his bottom lip, head cocked to indulge in the innocuous peer of her eyes beneath him — that’s a pretty sight she can make out even through the lack of light. She takes a million mental snapshots with her pupils, all of him in his all, curls dangling from the angle and the sharp line of his nose, his panting mouth as her tastebuds drag, sinew of muscle at his abdomen flexing, a rise and fall. The barest shape of the dark anchor etched into his wrist, his long, ring-clad fingers, the way they curl over his cock. The shape of it hovering over her face. 

A low groan squeezes past the door he’s made with his teeth, and then he says, “Yeah. There. Go on.” 

Her tongue morphs to her mouth, lips latching over lightly and sucking, just as he’d directed, and parting teases paste to him like doting kisses. Her lashline bounces as her eyes attempt to make his responses out through the rough angle and the dark that coats them. His head craned back there, his tummy rising and falling in pants there, his face tipped down over her to watch. The most insightful — and frankly, the most satisfying — are the sounds. 

The hisses of air he sucks in through his teeth, the way huffs fall out from between his open lips. They’re slow, and they come out like he’s trying to control them for the sake of the decibel, but they shake as they escape, and that’s a telltale. And then there’s the moans. 

There aren’t many of those to indulge in, but there’s a couple, one that Harry can’t seem to curb, despite his seemingly best efforts, when Y/N rolls her tongue over him all slow-like and comes off with a pop. And then another, later, that has him hanging his head when she stipples kisses to the sensitive skin there. 

“Christ, you’re gonna kill me.” 

The young woman hums, maybe in agreement or maybe goading, lashes batting innocently beneath him as she draws her lips over his sac aimlessly. 

“Fuck,” Harry mutters, and then he stifles and clams up like he’s contemplating. When her tongue drags over him again he seems to make a decision, tearing himself away and kneeing his way back until he’s hovering over her thighs, his cock bobbing and wet with spit, “Sit up. Take this off.” 

Do this, do that. A shudder climbs up the knobs of her spine, slithering its way up the bone as she basks in the dominating note plucking at his tone. The sweatshirt catches on her hair and tugs strands, but it’s frenzied, somehow fond, the way his hands rove up her sides and slip up her back, roaming over hot skin to toggle at the back of her bra.

Then it’s, “Roll over,” with the last of her clothing discarded into the darkness, somewhere beside them in the same, sloppy pile with her shorts and her underwear. “Gonna—“ she thinks he sheds his t-shirt then, imagines his muscles rippling and flexing as he pulls it off, over his head from the back, “—fuck you like I want your snug cunt wrapped around me forever.” 

And then go his shorts, judging by the way his weight dips and balances, the shuffling from behind as he kicks them off and they’re flung somewhere by his ankle. He presses up onto her, grappling her by the hip, all warm weight and everything brushing together. 

“You wanna bounce on my cock, baby?” Harry murmurs, pink lips grazing her temple. A curl tickles at her cheekbones when he ducks to skim his teeth over her earlobe, to ghost a breath of promise — of foreshadowing against her neck when he tells her, sultry low and smooth like honey, “Be a good girl and ask Daddy nicely. Maybe then I’ll let you.”  

Shit. Fucking Shit. That little word teems down her ears and hikes all the way down her nervous system and back up, lighting everything in her alive.  

Quietly, barely over a whisper, Y/N beckons, “Please.” And when Harry doesn’t immediately move, she licks out at her slips, swallows, and pleads, “Daddy. I need you. Need you inside.” 

In response, her friend cups a hand over a love handle and guides his cock to press against her. But he doesn’t breach. 

“Better, but not quite,” he sighs. There’s leaves rustling outside in the gentle breeze, but Y/N doesn’t hear anything besides the rush of blood in her ears when she begs more, and it doesn’t get any quieter when Harry rewards her by tucking himself inside and pumping forward, just about halfway. 

It’s a crying shame when he doesn’t make any motion to keep going. And then it’s quiet besides their panting breaths intermingling. Eventually, though, he does talk.

“Fuck yourself on it,” Harry instructs, cadence ludicrously controlled given that half of his cock is tucked into her. Y/N peers over her shoulder to catch glimpses of his furrowed brows — the rip in the stitch of semblance. She can only manage to see so much. He ducks his head and nips at the shell of her ear, coaxing tingles down her neck, her shoulders, all the way from her nape. “Go on. Don’t pretend to be shy about it.” 

Fucking fuck. How can she not be, she thinks, when he talks like that? 

There’s a heat that seeps over her the crest of her cheekbones where he can’t see, and she squeezes over him in response to the filth. Harry settles back up. From the corner of her eye, Y/N notes lines of muscle shaping his arms as he hovers over her. Slowly, almost hesitantly, she arches her hips up a tad and nudges back. It’s not enough — it’s maybe an inch, and she rocks forward by pressing her hips down and then repeats the motion. Just as there was a lack of control over her shame when he spewed dirty, brazen, filth, there’s also a lack of motion when she’s rolled forward with her tummy pressed to the ground. There’s only so much — so many inches she can ride back on when she’s rendered immobile. 

He knows it, too — it’s obvious by the poorly muffled note of mirth in his tone from behind, “Good girl. But you can do better than that, can’t you?” 

Helplessly, Y/N grits her teeth, fingers tangling into the fabric of her sleeping bag as she rolls her hips back in another attempt. It’s stuttery, and awkward, and not really a seamless, Shakira-esque roll at all. It’s a poor shuffle, hips raising more than traveling back. 

“Come on,” Harry goads, tutting like her tries are half-assed and she’s not currently exerting her body into creating motions that are simply unrealistic, “Take it proper. You want it? Then take it. Show me.” 

Camping is supposed to be wholesome. Camping is supposed to be laughter, and deep, pure breaths of air that scrub out the tainted glaze of city life from the walls of your lungs, sticky like cigarette smoke residue on the walls of a house. It’s hiking boots stuffed with the thickest socks. It’s marshmallows on twigs over curdling flames that lick up, it’s flashlights, and spooky myths and legends verbalized, and more laughter. 

Instead, Y/N is camping, and she’s currently barely grinding over inches of Harry’s cock. 

“I can’t,” she grits out, frustrated, but it sounds more like a whine than anything with bite.

“You can’t? Sure you can, pet,” Harry grapples over her hip, bracing on one arm in, honestly, an impressive showcase of athleticism, and manually rakes her hips back over him. It allows for more — more of him, more of his cock, more of his touch. More of him splitting her open and spreading her apart over him. “Just like this, right?” 

She’s sure he must be meeting her at least a quarter, if not halfway, though. It all feels like a devious ploy. Y/N whines. He makes this amused sound then, one of those puffs expelled through his nostrils like a half-laugh, accompanied by a hum. And then he pulls out and pumps his hips forward, until he’s flush to her backside, and then reverses and repeats. Three times. He gives her three, good, long, full thrusts, smoothing out to the tip and in to the root until she’s stuffed, just like he’d promised. Then, he presses in all the way and just basks in her heat. 

“Better?” Harry asks, but his tone catches on a quiet grunt and wavers in its prior composure. She squeezes over him, really squeezes, and he muffles a groan with the seal of his mouth. For a second, he doesn’t say anything at all, and then the filth spills again. It’s odd how patronizing he can sound, despite the way her cunt so obviously affects him, “Need Daddy to do all the work, is that it?” 

Y/N hums. There isn’t much she can say to disagree because it’s good. At some point, his slow rolls morph into sharp juts, and the brace of his arms bends and gives until his chest is flush to her back. 

“Please, please, please, please,” Y/N croaks out the mantra, muzzled by the smush of her cheek to the ground with the pressure of his hand palming at the side of her skull. 

“Shh,” Harry rocks forward, fingertips twitching into her roots like a meld of petting and admonishment. He rocks into her until he’s flush against her backside, splitting her over him to the hilt, “Shh …don’t need to beg, sweetheart. You can have it. Have it all.”

He’s warm weight over her, hard muscle like hot, sticky stone as he works into her from behind. He’s a welcome stretch, a pleasant burn, inches of bliss that her spongy walls cling to in a warm hug. He’s tips of curls brushing over her cheeks, filthy words in a murmur flush to the shell of her ear, little, repressed grunts and shuddery exhales as his hips rock. He’s a headlock that squeezes over her throat deliciously and keeps her neck craned back. It’s in this perfect way that almost has her gasping for breath. 

The young woman practically bites into her tongue to curb a nearly animalistic groan that climbs from the depths of her chest and squeezes out past her detained windpipe. She doesn’t need to try as hard when his opposite arm shimmies up over the poorly-cushioned sleeping bag, when his hand clamps against her mouth, palm smushing over her lips. Instead, her high whimper catches on his skin and muffles out. Her nostrils flare over his digits when Harry shushes and chastises through grunts. 

“I know, baby. I know. Need you to be — shit — a good, quiet girl for me, though.”

Her irises nearly loll back into her skull, fluttery for the ceiling of fabric in their sockets at the dominating tone of his cadence. 

“Gonna be good for me? Make me—“ his words taper off when he muzzles a groan with the seal of his own lips, and what comes out is hushed, and masculine, and obviously bridled. But it doesn’t make her as hungry as when he beckons, “—Make me pleased with you?”

Because she wants to please him, wants to be good, wants his digits to press harder over her tongue when he slinks them into her mouth. It’s not her fault when the motion siphons a whimper. So Harry does — press harder that is, an inclination for her lips to wrap over his fingers, his chin tucked over her shoulder. His mouth presses to her temple, gracing her with puffs of air through his nose as he rocks into her.

“There we go,” Harry coos, soft and barely over a whisper when her mouth seals over the intrusive digits, “There’s a good girl. Let’s keep those pretty sounds to ourselves.” 

He rocks into her until she’s whining into his hand, until they’re really slick with sweat, and he’s grazing at his own peak, working until it unravels him from the inside out. She’s still making hushed sounds against his palm when he groans all low into her hair and his motions melt into something stuttery, when he empties ribbon after ribbon as she clenches over him and milks him through it.

He’s probably going to rifle through the dark for some discarded fragment of fabric to clean the mess. It’ll be haphazard on account of the night, and she’ll still feel the sticky remnants, dried up at the peaks of her inner thighs in the morning. But it won’t really be gross. Sort of a sordid, morning-after keepsake, sort of a dirty thrill as they pack their stuff among the others in their cohort. Sort of, probably, an excuse to fuck later in the day when they have a moment alone to themselves, reminiscing on the night before. 

But before that, he’ll probably clean his mess and run a hand down the vale of her side in a praising caress, like he normally does. Probably lay next to her for a bit before sneaking off to his own tent because, even though they’re just friends that fuck, he’s never been weird about cuddling — aftercare is sort of a must. He’ll probably say goodnight with another searing kiss, the kind that burns deep inside, because every time he leaves is kerosene actively poured into the pit of a bonfire. Because every time he leaves, she wants him more.

Tomorrow they’ll still be friends. 

Just friends that fuck.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles dirty one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #dom!harry x sub!reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #fwb!harry #fwb au #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles one shots #dom!harry

[rkivepetals]

Skin to skin.

Just your husband helping you have an orgasm.

Jungkook x fem!reader

Warnings: smut (I’ve never wrote smut stand alone pls), fluff, fingering, ck!jk, pregnancy (they’re expecting a baby), a bit of argument.

. ♡ ♡ ♡ .

“Baby, where are you? Hmm?” Jungkook calls you out while drying his hair and taking out a pair of jeans and a black shirt. He fit himself in the jeans as he wore the shirt, not bothering to button it up. “Y/n?” He pushed through the bedroom door, seeing you eating grapes as you watched TV boringly. “Baby?”

He sweetly calls you out, “I called you so many times, why didn’t you Answer me, hmm?” He suited himself at the very edge of the couch where you sat comfortably. “You did?” He sighs, wrapping arms around your waist and snuggling his nose in your neck, “Let’s not do this, hmm? I’m craving you so bad…” he whispers, drawing circles under your small top.

You pushed his chest, “No.” He hissed, gripping your waist and spreading his legs, taking you on his left thigh. “Yes.” You rolled your eyes and tried to get off him but he pulled you down again, “I’m sorry okay? I forgot. Forgive me for once and suck this cock?” He sweetly purrs and kisses your head, you roll your eyes.

“You don’t even mean it, you just want a head.” You say and get up, taking the leftover grapes in the kitchen as he follows you there. “It had completely slipped off my mind that you’re allergic to those flowers! I thought you love purple things you might love it as well!” You scoffed, “Then why did you scold me over the phone?! Solve yourself.”

He sighs, “I’m sorry..” he pouts, leaning beside you as you emptied the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. “I was angry at a staff for messing with my things and I accidentally yelled at you, please?” You don’t reply as he sighs and holds your wrist, caging you between the counter and himself. Putting your palms over his naked chest as he caressed your face softly, gently.

“I am sorry for my behaviour, genuinely. It had never happened before and it never will. I promise, just this once?” He softly pecks your fingertips as you roll your eyes. He chuckled, running his hands on your thighs and leaned in to kiss your lips. Gripping your butt between his wide fingers as you held his nape and chest, scraping your nails on his crystal clear skin.

“Good girl.” He praised midst the kiss, pulling you up on the countertop. “No no, baby.” You point at your belly as he sighs, head against your chest. “I completely forgot.” You chuckled, grazing your fingers through his hair as he placed open mouth kisses on your neck. You moaned, chest blooming in need as you gave him more space to touch you.

His teeth scrape against your skin as he picks you up, through your thighs and back. You leaned in and kissed his lips, and felt your body sink in the mattress. Legs wrapped around his waist, he grips your midriff and grinds you onto him, and you both moan. “Jungkook, I’m scared.”

You whisper as he stops and looks at your face, a little concerned. “About what?” He blinked, “About our baby.” You gulped as he sighed, “But I want you.” you hugged him tightly, and he soothingly rubbed his hands on your back, “It’s okay.” He whispered, kissing under your ear as he sighed again. “We’ll find a way.”

“There is.” You say and look at him, “Hmm?” He listened, “masturbation is allowed.” He looked over your face, “but are you comfortable?” You pout, “I’m sort of horny actually.” He chuckled, “Aw, my baby.” he placed a soft smooch on your cheek and effortlessly slid you to sit comfortably against his back. “Aight?”

“Hmm.” You nod, gripping his thigh as he slid down your shorts and crawled his fingers near your clit, he slowly parts your lips and slid his fingers smoothly, you moaned loudly, arching your back as he pulls you back effortlessly against him again. His other finger slides, “j..Jungkook…” you shuddered, “feels good, baby?”

You mewled and nodded your head, “It does.” You whisper as he stirs his fingers, slowly, you purr like a cat. “‘s feels so good…” you started grinding on his fingers, he glanced down at your clit and shoved his ring finger, which coincidentally had your wedding ring on it. You grip his hair and mewled loudly, he curled as your hands automatically groped your chest.

“Uh-huh.” He pulled down your hands, “Remove your shirt.” You moaned, “slow…slow down.” You said in a breathy voice as he hummed, “Okay.” You removed your shirt as he immediately pulled his fingers in and out. You purred again, “I’m so high…” you whispered as his hands played with your chest. You bit your lips, “Yes, baby.”

You praised and squeezed his thighs through the Jean. His nose brushed past yours as you drag his jaw back, slowly starting to move your body according to his finger and kiss him on the mouth. “Feels nice?” He asked midst the sloppy kiss, squeezing your nipples as you nodded, “It does. Keep doing it. Never stop.” He chuckled, pulling his fingers out and shoving it back in.

“You grind so good against my palm.” He says as you kept doing it, “Look, all wet and messy. Ruined the damn sheets, hmm?” You hummed, he pinched your nipples, “Say it with your mouth.” You groaned, “Ye-yeah! I did! I’m so close, go faster…” he kissed your mouth once again, “What my baby wants, she gets.” He stirred his fingers in your cunt at a faster pace, pulling in and out, grinding his palm gently on your pulsing, hot, clit.

“Sloppier than ever.” He murmured, juices flowing down his knuckles as you gulped and gripped his thigh again, feeling his bare chest against your back, skin to skin. “Grind softly. It’s okay.” He reassured as you moved your body, throwing your head back on his shoulder, “So good, keep going.” You whispered and shuddered as he moved your hair aside.

Rubbing soft circles against your lower belly as you grunt, biting your lips harshly and coming down his palm. Hands clenched on his cotton shirt as you sigh in relief, still leaking as he chuckled. “Look, you messy.” He showed you his palm full of your juice, “you even peed.” You scrunched, “naw.”

He chuckled, taking tissues from the side and wiping his palm. “It’s fine. You had a good time?” He threw the tissue aside and pulled you closer, face to face and kissed your lips. “I did. Thank you.” You smooch his cheeks, “now, wash up baby. You don’t wanna get infected, do ya?” You clicked your tongue, still kissing his face.

He sighs, pulling you away, “y/n. Wash up.” He warned, and you groaned. “Help me! I just took a bath before you came and I’m dirty again!” He clicked his tongue while shaking his head, “Big baby.” He got up, picking you up. “Need my assistance in everything.” He spanked your butt as you gasp, “It hurts!”

#bts fanfction #bts jungkook #bts fluff #jungkook #bts fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #bts #jeon jungkook x reader #bts fantasy au #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #jungkook pwp #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook #jjk #jungkook angst #jungkook audio #jungkook drabble #jungkook x you #jungkook fluff #jungkook x original character #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x oc #jungkook x calvin klein #jungkook fwb #jungkook fic #jungkook fic recs #jungkook fiction #jungkook fs

[beforeimdeceased]

How about mean fwb!abby???🙈🙈

went to the fwb lover convention and they crowned me queen

#bunnie can speak? ☆ #bun’s asks ꕤ #bun’s anons ˖°🦇ִ ࣪𖤐 #abby anderson #bun’s precious abby ✧.* #abby anderson fanfic #abby angst #fwb!abby #modern abby #abby anderson fic #abby anderson imagine #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson smut

[alwaysmicado]

we shouldn’t

2.9k | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | one-shot

Warnings: 18+, no outbreak AU, alcohol, smut (but nothing too graphic), smooching, reader being a menace, fluff & the tiniest bit of angst Summary: Joel holds your hand after a night out. It makes you feel things you don’t want to feel. A/N: This little one-shot was very emotional for me to write, and I hope it’ll make you feel something, too. Can be read alone or as a prequel to part 1 within the fwb!Joel AU. Enjoy and let me know what you think! I love talking to you about these two! 🖤 series masterlist

“If I don’t catch you before the light, I’ll do that little dance you like so much.”

“Naked?” you ask with wide eyes. 

He chuckles at your enthusiasm. “Yeah, na–”

Before he can finish his sentence, you’re running—clumsily, but fueled by an eagerness that outshines the haze of your drunkenness.

“–ked.”

– – –

The neon lights of the city blur into a kaleidoscope as Joel and you stroll down the crowded streets, the remnants of laughter and clinking glasses still echoing in your ears from the bar you just left. It’s a beautiful night—alive with a buzz, a mix of the city’s energy and the warmth that comes from a few too many drinks.

You’re giggling uncontrollably at something Joel said, your hands clasped over your belly as your sides hurt from laughing. You don’t even remember what he said that was so funny, but that doesn’t matter.

You’re having fun—as always when you’re with him.

Joel glances over at you with a lopsided grin, his eyes slightly glazed but still sparkling with mischief.

“You’re such a lightweight, darlin’,” he says, his words laced with genuine amusement. He chuckles as you continue to giggle, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “No more Long Island Iced Teas for you.”

You playfully roll your eyes, trying to catch your breath, and delicately wiping away the happy tears spilling over.

“Oh, come on,” you quip, turning to him with an infectious grin. “Could a lightweight do this?”

Determined to prove him wrong, you theatrically hold out your arms and set one foot gracefully in front of the other, your pretend sobriety test turning into a whimsical dance along an invisible line on the floor.

“See?” you say excitedly—and perhaps a tad too loudly—before your own enthusiasm sends you stumbling over your own feet. Lucky for you, Joel’s reflexes kick in, and he effortlessly catches you before you can faceplant and hurt yourself.

“Easy there, baby,” he teases with a grin, his strong arms steadying you before pulling you into a tight embrace. “You’re just having too much fun tonight, huh?”

“S’not fair,” you slur against his chest, giggles bubbling up from deep inside you. “The world is spinning.”

Joel looks at you, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “That’s not–” he begins but stops himself, chuckling. “Well, actually, yes, you’re right. The world is spinning, baby.” He presses a soft kiss against your temple. “I got you though.”

Giggles subside into a contented sigh as you rest against Joel’s broad chest, the fleeting touch of his fingers brushing against your back.

“Thank you,” you murmur, taking in his warmth and his scent. “Mmm, you smell nice. How do you always smell so nice?” 

Lifting your head, you gaze into his eyes with honest bewilderment and curiosity, your brow furrowed, as if this is the most perplexing mystery that needs unraveling.

“Reminds me of when we met. My clothes smelled like you when I got home that night.”

Joel’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he looks at you with a genuine sense of adoration, his heart warmed by the sincerity and carefree spirit that your drunken honesty radiates.

He’s obviously not going to tell you that he’s made sure to only ever use the aftershave you complimented him on the first night you spent together, but he’s secretly delighting in the fact that you still like it.

“Well, aren’t you sweet, darlin’,” he coos, an amused smile gracing his lips. “You were such a brat not even twenty minutes ago and now look at you. Tame as a little kitten.”

“No idea what you’re talking about.” You bite your lip and put your hands on his chest, your pupils so dilated your eyes are black.

You can still feel his fingers inside you.

Joel runs his hands up and down your back, a sensation that makes your knees weak. He bores his eyes into you and raises an eyebrow.

“I’m talking about you acting like a whore in that bar just so I’d make you come on my fingers.” His hands wander down to your ass, groping you, pulling you closer against his body. “You knew I’d fuck you when we got to your place, but you just couldn’t wait, huh?”

“Hmm, you love it,” you chuckle, pressing a soft kiss on his warm lips. “Don’t act like you’re not a total perv yourself. ‘Cause, you know, you are, and that’s why you just fingered me in a crowded bar. And that’s why you almost came in your pants. And that’s also why we get along so well.”

Joel grins at you, savoring the lingering sensation of your lips on his. “Touché, you little smartass.”

Your eyes drop to his mustache, perched proudly on his top lip. He’s shaved off the rest of his facial hair, and tonight’s the first time you’ve seen him like this. It suits him.

“You see something you like, baby?”

“I love your mustache. It’ so fucking hot,” you murmur, mesmerized, gently touching the little hairs above Joel’s lip with your fingertips. “Makes you look like an ‘80s pornstar.”

“You’re into that?” he chuckles, noting the particular fixation your inebriated brain has chosen this time—last time, it was the curve of his nose. You’re adorable.

“Fuck yeah. The only thing missing are assless chaps and a tight mesh shirt.” You wrap your arms around him and look into his beautiful brown eyes.

“Mmm, you never cease to surprise me, darlin’,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear before nibbling on your earlobe. “I didn’t realize you were such a fan of my ass.”

You giggle and squeeze his cheeks to make a point, pulling away a bit to lock your lidded eyes on his. “Oh, you have no idea. I’ll tie you to your bed next time and show you if you want. Fair warning, though, I won’t be gentle.”

Joel’s eyes widen, his erection straining against the harsh fabric of his jeans.

“Careful, darlin’,” he growls into your ear, “if you can’t behave yourself, I’ll have to put you in your place. And I promise you, I won’t be gentle either.”

You can’t suppress the little moan that escapes your lips as Joel’s words go straight to your pussy. His scent, his deep voice, his broad body against yours, his dark eyes—it all has you melting in his arms, craving his touch. Badly.

“Can we go, please?” you plead, your tone carrying the unmistakable hint of neediness Joel loves to hear so much.

“You’re insatiable, you know that?” he murmurs, his hands finding your waist, pulling you against his groin with a possessive grip.

You playfully roll your eyes and let out a dramatic sigh. “Yeah, yeah, and I’m a bad, bad girl that needs to be punished—yada yada yada. Can we go now? Please?”

You pull away from his embrace with a cheeky smile and start tugging on his arm, urging him to move. Joel snorts at your impatience, thoroughly entertained by the frustrated little noises you make when he doesn’t budge.

One eyebrow raised and hands on your hips, you glare at him defiantly. You’re swaying a little now that he’s not holding you anymore.

“I’ll fucking run home and get myself off if you don’t get your ass in gear right now.”

“You still haven’t grasped the concept of asking nicely, huh? And after all this time I’ve tried to teach you,” he chuckles, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood and can’t wait to fill up that pretty little pussy of yours.”

He tilts your chin up with his thumb and index finger to search your eyes. To his satisfaction, he finds pure hunger in them. Your brain has completely shut off any and all functions except for imagining Joel taking you roughly in your bed. Or on your sofa. Or on the floor.

“Tell you what, you brat. You get a ten-second head start, and if I catch you before you reach that traffic light over there, you’re not allowed to touch me once you’re naked.” 

“And if you don’t catch me?”

Joel needs to hold back his laugh at the ridiculous idea that you’d be faster than him. 

“If I don’t catch you before the light, I’ll do that little dance you like so much.”

“Naked?” you ask with wide eyes. 

He chuckles at your enthusiasm. “Yeah, na–”

Before he can finish his sentence, you’re running—clumsily, but fueled by a determination that outshines the haze of your drunkenness.

“–ked.”

The night air that envelops you is alive with laughter and the distant hum of the city as you stumble towards the traffic light, your unsteady steps dictated by the alcohol coursing through your veins. Your brain can’t decide between giggling and breathing, so you’re left with a side stitch and gasping for air after a few short seconds.

At least you had enough foresight to choose comfort over sexiness when you put on your sneakers tonight instead of your heels.

Joel’s eyes track you, captivated by the rhythmic sway of your legs beneath the hem of the short dress you’re wearing. Oh, how he can’t wait to feel your naked skin pressed against his. You’re always so soft, so warm, so receptive to his touch…

He snaps out of it, realizing the very real potential for a clumsy misstep, and joins the chase. His steps are more purposeful, not wanting you to trip and hurt yourself, especially not on his watch.

A few meters shy of the traffic light, he catches up, arms wrapping around you from behind. You squeal in surprise, a mixture of laughter and exhilaration bubbling up from deep inside you. Joel joins in, his laughter harmonizing with yours, as he triumphantly murmurs, “Got you” in your ear.

He sets you down gently and pulls you close as your heart is still racing, and presses his lips on yours in a deep, lingering kiss.

“Not fair,” you mumble against his lips with a pout. “And I don’t wanna live in a world where you don’t dance for me.”

Joel sighs deeply, succumbing to the irresistible charm of your big puppy eyes.

“How about this, baby. You’re good and do what I say without talking back, and I’ll dance for you until you’re dizzy. Hm?”

“Okay, sounds fair,” you murmur, wanting nothing more than to get home quickly and rip his clothes off. Riling him up in the bar and coming all over his fingers was nice, but you’ve had far from enough.

“Good girl.”

As the traffic light shifts to green, Joel’s hand instinctively finds yours, not wanting to let you stumble across the street without him holding you. You don’t think too much about it, assuming he’ll let go once you’re on the other side.

Surprisingly, though, his grip persists, and he intertwines his fingers with yours.

It’s a gesture so simple, yet it simultaneously sobers you up and sends a ripple through the carefully constructed walls you’ve built around your emotions. Confusion colors your eyes as you steal a glance at him, and he meets your eyes with a warmth that makes your heart skip a beat.

You don’t like it.

This isn’t the casual arm around the shoulder or the hand on your hip. This feels like…more. Like something you’d only do in a relationship. Joel’s touch is warm and electric, and an unsettling realization dawns—the casual arrangement you’ve shared with him suddenly seems more complicated.

Oh, no. No, no, no.

“What are you doing?” you ask, feigning nonchalance, although your heart is doing somersaults.

“What do you mean?” Joel smirks, giving your hand a playful squeeze. “Just trying to keep you from stumbling into the bushes, baby. I’m a gentleman, you know.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, but the butterflies in your stomach tell a different story. The truth is, you’ve been here before—caught in the crossroads of friendship and something more. It’s a delicate balance, and one you don’t want to upset.

Joel’s the best thing that has happened to you in a long time, and you don’t want to lose what you have. But you also care for him enough that you’d let him go if your arrangement didn’t make him happy anymore.

As you finally reach your apartment building, a nervous flutter sets your heart pounding in your chest. You clear your throat and subtly allow your fingers to slip away from Joel’s, feigning the need for both hands as you rummage through your purse in search of your key.

You follow Joel inside, deliberately averting your gaze, your eyes fixed on the glowing buttons as you summon the elevator. As you step inside the confined space, a wave of memories floods your mind, recalling the last time you’ve given in to your desires when the brief elevator ride felt too long to resist.

Joel knelt in front of you, skillfully drawing an orgasm out of you with his tongue while your fingers were tangled in his dark curls. Once he had his fill, he proceeded to throw you over his shoulder and fuck you in front of your living room mirror. You’ll never forget how he forced you to look at yourself with his hand wrapped around your neck.

You’re abruptly pulled back to the present as you feel Joel’s hand finding yours once again, trying to reassure you that he’s here if you need him. You look at him with a conflicted expression, torn between appreciating his caring gesture and the fear of disappointing him.

As you shuffle to your apartment door, Joel finally breaks the silence, his voice low and soothing, “Are you alright, darlin’? Do you feel sick?” His eyes search your face, concern evident in his furrowed brow.

“Nah, just a bit tipsy,” you reply automatically, your tone light as you lean against the wall. 

However, when he starts tracing gentle circles on the back of your hand with his thumb, you’re unable to suppress the growing unease any longer. Tightness settles in your chest, accompanied by a fluttering sensation that dances beneath your ribcage.

“It’s just…I, uh,” you murmur, “I didn’t expect you to hold my hand is all.”

“Oh.” Joel’s gaze softens, and he releases your hand, the connection severed. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, darlin’. I should’ve asked if you were okay with it, I’m sorry.”

You shake your head vehemently. “No, no, it’s not that I didn’t like it. It’s just...it felt–” you cut yourself off and sigh deeply, turning around to open your apartment door. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Joel nods, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I understand, darlin’. Thank you for telling me.”

“I’m sorry,” you switch on the light in your living room and throw your purse onto your sofa. “I know it’s weird, but I really…we–we shouldn’t and I…I can’t–”

“Darlin’, hey,” he steps inside and closes the door behind him. “There’s no need for you to apologize, or explain for that matter.”

You turn around and take him in for a moment. His warm eyes, his soft smile, the cute little movements his hand makes when he’s nervous—he’s just so…sweet. You’re not used to a guy being so considerate of your boundaries, and it’s incredibly hard for you to believe that he actually means it and won’t use them against you once he’s tired of you.

You know it’ll happen at some point, but you’re okay with that. This isn’t meant to last.

“Do you, uh, still wanna stay for a nightcap?” you ask him with a hopeful smile. 

“Of course I do, darlin’,” he says, tilting his head and looking at you curiously.

You open your arms, silently inviting him to draw you into a comforting embrace. You’re relieved when his response is immediate and eager.

“We’re on the same page, right?” he asks, a genuine smile on his lips as his dark eyes search yours. “We have fun, and I like spending time with you, but I want you to feel comfortable, too. If this,” he gestures between the two of you, “ever becomes more than you’re comfortable with, we talk about it. No pressure, no expectations. Just us, enjoying each other’s company.”

He pulls back slightly to gauge your reaction, his hand still gently resting on your waist. 

“Sounds perfect, Joel,” you coo in response, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Now, would you please shut up and kiss me already.”

“Alright, alright, you brat,” Joel chuckles and cups your cheek with his warm hand, before leaning in and sealing the agreement with a lingering kiss to your lips.

“Mmm, I’m so happy I met you, darlin’,” he whispers. “You’re something else, you know?”

You look into his eyes, and there’s a sincerity in them that catches you off guard. You know you shouldn’t have sex with him right now, you know you should tell him to leave. 

And yet, as soon as you feel his lips on yours again, more fervently this time, his hands exploring the contours of your back, drawing you close, the rational part of your mind fades away.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he breathes out before switching to kissing down your neck, the sensation of his soft lips on your sensitive skin making you whimper.

“I want you, Joel. I want you.”

– – –

Thanks for reading, guys!! 🤍

part 1 || series masterlist || main masterlist

tagging: @buckyispunk @koshkaj-blog @paleidiot @pattwtf @runningmom94 @tuquoquebrute @witchofthedeepwoods let me know if you want to be added!

#fwb!joel miller x f!reader #fwb!joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller au #series: you wanted this #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fic #the last of us fic #joel miller smut #joel the last of us #tlou fic #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal characters

[moonstruckme]

absolutely begging for a part 2 of the sirius angst blurb with reader being more distant during sex and sirius notices. obviously take your time and take care of yourself!! mwah mwah mwah. thank you for EVEN reading this request.

Thank you for requesting my love!

cw: smut mdni, p in v, miscommunication trope

part 1

fwb!Sirius x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

You think you’ve been doing a fairly decent job of staying out of your own head. You’re keeping intentionally focussed on Sirius’ body and the things it does to you. His tattooed biceps flexing, hands clutching your hips to guide your movements, pretty, perfect mouth forming your name. 

He says it again, getting your attention. Reluctantly, you meet his eyes. Sirius grins wickedly.

“Someone’s quiet today. You with me, gorgeous?” 

“Mhm.” You lay a hand over his chest and lean forward to drive him deeper inside you. 

He curses at the new fit, and you grin in a way you hope looks normal, clenching your walls around him. 

“Fuck,” Sirius hisses. “That’s my girl.” 

It’s like someone’s thrown a bucket of water on the heat in your core. Your stomach drops embarrassingly, because you’re not his girl. He’d made the restrictions of your arrangement very clear when he’d spoken to Remus last week. Why would Sirius call you that when you both know it’s not true? 

“Hey.” The boy below you catches on to your shift in mood quicker than you would have expected. He looks up at you bemusedly, his grip on your hips turning from possessive to conscientious. “You okay? Wanna stop?” 

You shake your head before you can think. “No, let’s keep going.” 

You try to find your rhythm again, but Sirius doesn’t match you. Dark brows descend over stormcloud eyes. 

“I don’t want to do anything you’re not into, dollface.” 

“You’re not,” you huff. 

He looks at you for a second, gaze unabashedly scrutinizing. “You’re upset,” he deduces. 

You laugh, incredulous. “I am not.” 

But Sirius has made his decision. His grasp on your hips strengthens again as he lifts you enough to pull out, slipping from underneath you and sitting up by your pillows. You purse your lips but put your underwear—a thong you hope he doesn’t think was for his benefit—back on when he does, taking the shirt he tosses you and tugging it over your head. 

Sirius sprawls out on his side, propping his chin on a hand. “Why the pout, hm?” 

“I’m not pouting.” 

He grins. “Yeah, you are.” 

And fine, you are, but not because of him. Because you’re still pissed at yourself for being hurt. For thinking, foolishly, that you would be fine with having Sirius over when he’d texted you that he was in the mood despite still nursing your wound from just a week before. Mortified at yourself for ever having cared, and worse for caring still. 

Sirius’ eyes soften as if he’s seen something in your expression. His grip is gentle beneath the teasing as he tugs you down by your arm, encouraging you to lay beside him. 

“Wanna tell me why?” he asks.

You do, actually. It makes frustration prickle over your skin to think about how much you’d love to tell him about this. You’d fallen into the habit, stupidly, of spilling your guts to Sirius about most things. He was already one of your closest friends, but with this new level of intimacy between you…you’d lost sight of boundaries that had existed for a reason. 

The last thing either of you need is for you to burden him with your emotions about this. 

“I’m not pouting,” you say again, obstinately. 

Sirius frowns. His hand crosses the short distance to your hip, one finger running absentmindedly over the hem of his shirt you’ve thrown on. 

“Something’s upset you,” he muses. “Is it me?” 

“No,” you say. 

Something flickers in Sirius’ eyes. “Liar.” 

Your lips part to argue, but it’s no use. He looks too certain. “How do you do that?” 

His lips quirk, but there’s not much humor in his expression. “It’s a gift. Gonna tell me how I fucked up, pretty girl?” 

You shake your head. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

It’s the truth this time, and Sirius can see it. His brow creases in puzzlement. 

“M’sure I did at some point,” he says softly. His fingers push the cotton of his t-shirt up your side, toying with your underwear. “You’re just too nice to blame me for it.” 

His knuckle brushes your hip as he runs his finger along the thin, silken fabric of your thong, and you don’t stop your eyes from going to the motion. You whisper, “Why do you touch me like this?” 

For a moment, Sirius’ expression shutters. “I thought this was what we did.” His voice is quiet, not quite question and not quite answer. “Do you not want me to touch you?” 

You do, too much. But for different reasons. Not just because you’re friends with this extra element to your relationship. You want him to touch you with something more. You want to touch him back in the same way, uninhibited. 

“It’s fine,” you say. 

“No, hey.” Sirius slips his finger from your thong. The fabric snaps back into place without much bite. “Don’t say that.” 

“What do you want me to say?” 

He looks hurt you would ask. “Say what you’re thinking.” 

You blow out a breath, rolling onto your back. You don’t want to look at him, but you can still feel his gaze on you, searching and worried. 

“It’s my fault,” you say, “okay? It’s really nothing to do with you, I just…got a bit caught up in all this and started feeling things I know we agreed not to.” You sneak a glance at him, eyes shooting back to the ceiling when they accidentally meet his. “I couldn’t help it, but I’m trying to get past it.” 

You hear Sirius’ hand whisper against the sheets as it inches towards you. It stops partway. “That’s alright,” he says, a gentleness you can’t bear in his voice. “Why would you think that’s something you had to hide from me? It’s bound to happen with these things.” 

You smile wryly. “Oh, because you’re so irresistible?” 

“I mean, for one thing.” You can feel the tingling of his grin directed at you, but it fades as he sobers. “But also just because it’s natural, you know? I think we were both a bit too sure of ourselves when we started doing this. It’s not so easy to separate out as we thought.” 

You turn your head to look at him. “You don’t seem to have any trouble.” 

Sirius’ eyebrows rise. “Why would you think that?” 

“Because…” You gesture flippantly with a hand. “Because of what you said to Remus last week. We’re just friends, no?” 

Sirius stills for a moment, and then the breath goes out of him in a single, long exhale. He lets his chin drop from his hand, resting his head on a curled arm. “You were privy to that conversation, were you?” 

You shrug. “James’ bathroom door isn’t as soundproofed as we thought.” 

He chuckles. “Guess we should have been more quiet.” 

You smile halfheartedly, and Sirius’ humor fades. He looks at you carefully. If you didn’t know him better, you’d think he was attempting the odd and unconventional practice of thinking before he speaks. 

“I’m not sure I said anything to Moony about what I was thinking,” he says after a minute. “I spoke about the terms of our arrangement, but I sort of avoided…putting my own feelings in the mix.” 

You’re not so careful with your words. After a week of stewing, you don’t have the patience. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Sirius laughs through his nose like he can sense your agitation. “Just that I was more so making presumptions about how you felt than volunteering information on my own situation.” His hand creeps closer, making shushing noises against the sheets, until his fingertips are teasing your own. It sends zaps of energy all the way up your arm to the tips of your toes. You curl your legs in closer to you. “I didn’t want to embarrass myself,” Sirius says. “I was some pining twit who’d started having sex with a friend and then couldn’t keep my own feelings under control. What kind of idiot does that?” 

You feel your lips twitch. Sirius’ grin slashes across his face. “Yeah, I don’t know anyone that daft,” you say. 

His laugh is low and belly-deep. “Can I hug you, please?” 

“Yeah,” you sigh, feigning reluctance despite the commotion in your stomach that’s getting harder to ignore. 

You start to sit up, but Sirius rolls right on top of you, pressing you into the bed and needling his arms underneath your shoulders. He smushes his cheek to yours. 

“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, dollface,” he says, words breezing over your ear. “I could have saved us both a lot of time if I’d manned up and spoken to you about it.” 

You cross your wrists over his back and bring your knees up so they’re squeezing his sides. Sirius makes a ridiculously pleased humming sound. “It’s okay. I wasn’t planning on talking to you either.” 

He laughs, turning his face into yours so the sound vibrates against your temple. “One of us is going to have to pick up some emotional intelligence, else we’ll need James to referee our every interaction.” 

You squeeze him tight, happiness like a bubble close to bursting in your chest. “I dunno,” you say, and Sirius is clearly chuffed at the audible smile in your voice. He stamps a firm kiss of approval to your hairline. “I think we’ve done alright.” 

Contentment oozes from his tone, too. “Yeah, I suppose so.” 

#fwb!sirius #fwb!sirius x reader #sirius black #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black x self insert #sirius black imagine #sirius black scenario #sirius black blurb #sirius black drabble #sirius black angst #sirius black hurt/comfort #sirius black smut #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fic #sirius black oneshot #sirius black one shot #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #the marauders #marauders era #hp marauders

[bangchansnudes]

just thoughts about fwb(to-lovers)!minho. god damn.

he’s cocky. so, so fucking cocky. but rightfully so because just look at him 😩 he’ll always be bragging about how he could get anyone he wanted (and he really could) and that you were soooo lucky to be his fuck buddy because he’s so hot and is good at what he does.

and of course he’d constantly remind you that he absolutely wanted no strings attached.

blah blah.

YET!

he’s the one always showing up at your place, like he lived there. even after fucking, he’d self invite himself to stay over, saying he was too lazy to go home but really, he just secretly wanted to spend time with you. he just wanted to cuddle with you, to shower with you, to wake up to you in his arms. 

he’s so obviously attached, smitten for you but he’s just in denial about it. the man thinking it’s just a spur of the moment kind of feeling and sweeps it riiiiiight under the rug. 

as time passes, the flashing of minho’s name on your phone screen no longer meant a call just for sex. the man would occasionally ask to hang out, to have dinner or even just a drive. at this point you guys were no longer JUST friends with benefits but you’d both keep quiet about it. cliché lol.

and then he sees you with other guys and oh god, lee minho will flip. the man will be raging with jealousy over the slightest things. like you hugging your guy friends, laughing at their jokes etc etc. he wanted to storm over, to pull you away but... he had no right. because you guys were fucking, something minho had to remind himself of everyday.

so after getting so fed up with your popularity with the male population and his own pent up feelings, minho finally cracks and confesses to you but it’s not a normal confession. 

no of course not.

he’ll be screaming and insulting you the whole time, totally confusing you at what the hell was even happening. until he finally says, “YOU ARE SO ANNOYING BUT I FUCKING LIKE YOU!”. you’ll end up laughing at this, telling the boy that you liked him too and he’ll reply with something along the lines of “YEAH WELL GOOD FOR YOU.”.

then you live happily ever after 😂

2024 © bangchansnudes on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.

#bangchansnudes #stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fic #stray kids imagine #skz #skz fanfic #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz x reader #skz fwb #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids minho #leeknow #lee know #minho #minho fic #minho fanfic #minho smut #lee know smut #lee know fic #lee know fanfic #lee know drabble #minho drabble

[ginevrapng]

𝐈'𝐌 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃

pairing: fwb!james x reader

word count: 1.5k words

warnings and contents: for my friends with benefits james there is no smut asdfghjkl, hurt, jealousy, FLUFF

you're sitting in the great hall eating breakfast and you spot james across the hall with all the other gryffindors. you're unable to stop your lip quirk upwards as you hear his boisterous laugh, which you guess is due to some joke or prank he's retelling.

your small smile drops as you see lily evans walk up the marauders. you've never had a problem with her, she is a popular gryffindor that is friendly and works well to get top marks but the way she's walking up to the marauders, looking at james determined and with a mission, fills you with slight dread. if you were completely honest you felt she spent more time with james then necessary, especially considering how they've got their own friends and how many times she turned him down in the past.

the hall is already pretty quiet due to everyone already have eaten and a lot of people stop their conversations or lower their voices as they see lily go up to james. everyone in every house knows that's irregular. for the previous years of hogwarts james followed lily everywhere like a lost puppy always asking her out and coming up to her but he had stopped. no one knew why. it was because of you.

because the hall became so silent you heard what evans asked james and you wished the hall was louder, you wished you didn't hear, you wish you were somewhere else, anywhere else, you started to become sick as she asked james if he's free this weekend to go to hogsmeade. "i don't know, i think remus has to study but i know sirius and peter are free too. are all the other girls going?" at that moment it's hard to tell if he's actually oblivious or if he knows exactly what she's asking him but he's choosing not to answer. he has a smile on his face but even from a distance it looks a bit forced to you.

if you were anyone else you would lean to the fact he's being oblivious but you're not anyone, people always underestimate james and you have a feeling james knows exactly what she's actually asking but for some reason he's pretending that he has no clue what she means but you don't know why he'd do that. james is kind and wouldn't want to embarrass someone so publicly but at the same time you're unsure of why he'd be so sure of turning her down but the fact that he is does makes you incredibly happy, you won't tell him that though.

"oh, i don't actually know what the girls are doing. i meant just us two. like on a date?" lily asks him, not wavering at all even with what james has previously said.

james sighs under his breath. "i've got things to do, you should go with someone else."

"what about another weekend?" lily asks, hopeful and you don't blame her for that, anyone would be hopeful asking out someone who in the past asked them out every other day.

"lily, i'm sorry if i'm hurting your feelings but i don't want to go on a date with you," he tells her and you can see that he's trying to be as nice as he can be in a situation like this. no one caught on to the fact that james said that he's only sorry that he's hurt her feelings, he's not sorry for not wanting to date her though, like it's not even an option on my mind, he's not entertaining the thought about going on a date with her, you don't catch on, lily doesn't, the marauders don't, no one does.

everyone is stunned, they thought for sure he'd say yes, he has been pining after her for so long and most people just thought he started playing hard to get, giving her some distance until she recognises how much she misses him but that wasn't true at all. lily never crosses his mind anymore, why would she? he has you. you're all he thinks about. yeah at one point he fancied lily but he loves you.

after a couple beats lily replies with an, "oh, alright then. i guess i'll see you in the common room." this time it's lily that forces a smile. james doesn't respond. she has just been rejected and it's making her feel dejected, not only does james not want to go on a date with her but he doesn't want to hang out with her either. the whole time she thought this was some ploy from james to get her attention but she realised she was wrong. he has no interest in her at all.

as soon as lily's out of earshot and going out of the great hall you hear the loud voices of james' friends. "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT PRONGS? DON'T YOU WANT LILY ANYMORE?"

"that was mean james, you didn't have to reject her in front of everyone."

"YOU DON'T WANT EVANS? I CAN'T BELIEVE IT. I NEVER THOUGHT THIS DAY WOULD COME. CAN I GO FOR HER?"

"i've got to say i'm surprised to prongs, i never thought you'd shut lily down like that. she really does like you and if this is some trick to get her to like you more, don't do it. she talks about you a lot."

james interrupts his friends knowing this could go on all morning and knowing that you're definitely hearing all this, worried you might be getting the wrong idea. "you can go for her pads, it's none of my business." they all look even more shocked as they hear this but he carries on, "i have no interest in lily whatsoever, yes i used to but i moved on from that. i didn't try to be mean peter but she wasn't taking a hint, i kept trying to tell her no and to let her down gently and moony honestly you shouldn't be surprised if anything it's more surprising that this hasn't happened sooner, me and lily have absolutely nothing in common and we can barely hold a conversation together that last more than ten minutes."

they're all rendered speechless at james as they realise he is 100 percent serious about this. no matter if lily chases james just like he chased her his answer will always be the same, no.

in james' eyes lily doesn't hold a candle to you.

he flicks his eye to where you're sitting and you briefly make eye contact. james was feeling in a bit of a negative mood after what happened but that immediately changed when he glances at you to see that you're already looking at him. you see a stupid grin appear on his face, uncontrolled and automatic, you quickly look down knowing that you've been caught watching him. as you're looking down you smile at the whole situation. james told lily no, and he said it so certain like nothing could change his mind. that absolutely stopped the sicky feeling you had. no one would notice you smiling as you're looking away from everyone but james knew that's what you'd be doing.

james wants to grab your face and lift it up so you're looking at each other again, he already misses your face and the colours of your eyes and it's only been a second since you've looked away from him. he wants to see your bashful smile as you try to look away from him again but he'll just place hundreds of kisses all over your face instead. he wants to desperately tell you that lily doesn't mean anything to him, you have gotten jealous on occasion due to lily even if you deny it, hopefully this might help. he wants to tell you that there's nothing to be jealous about. although you both know that he'll likely tease you about how you was "staring" at him the whole time when he turned down lily.

"what the fuck are you grinning about james?" remus asks, he seems the most annoyed with james about how he handled the situation, remus and lily are study buddies so they are actually good friends and he's known for awhile how lily has felt about james he's just always thought james still feels the same way, he thought it was mutual.

james snaps out off his thoughts of you, not wanting the marauders to question him about you. "nothing important," james replies, not looking back at you.

he hopes that he'll have the chance to talk to you today, even if it's for five minutes. maybe you'll talk about your plans for the weekend and you can try and find time to get together, maybe you'll tease him and say lily invited you to hogsmeade while you were at dinner.

#james potter x reader #james potter x reader fluff #james potter smut #fwb!james #james potter x reader smut #james potter #james potter fluff #james potter hc #james potter fic #marauders fic #♡ james #♡ mine / writing #marauders headcanon #marauders x reader fluff #marauders x reader smut #marauders x you #marauders x reader #hp x reader #harry potter x reader #hp x reader fluff #harry potter x reader fluff #marauders fluff #hp #hp marauders #harry potter #hp fic

[elusivecagedmockingbird]

Orbiting: pt.1°

[icehockey!jungkook x figureskater!reader] [600+ idiot fwb to lovers; mutual pining, both has the libido of a teenage boy, it's so cliche it's unbelievable how clueless they are]

-

“Don’t stop baby,” Jungkook moans. He love-hates how you're slowly bouncing on top him. On one hand, he loves how you use him to pleasure yourself, slowly sinking inch by inch until you spear yourself on his cock. On the other, he wants nothing else than to fuck you dumb and to his pace—hard and unrelenting, he wants nothing spilling on your lips but his name and moans of pleasure.

"Come on, Y/N," he urges as he tries to thrust into you, his cock impaling you on top of him and you can't help but moan louder. "Fuck," you pant, "do that again." And so he does, planting his feet on the bed, his hips angled, he pistons his cock into you, bottoming out. Your body goes pliant above him as you submit yourself to your shared pleasure, your mouths move like magnets finding each other and momentarily locking in a heated kiss.

Jungkook reaches for your hand, brings it to his lips to kiss your knuckles, and it has you fucked. It's small gestures like this that makes not only your pussy clench, but your heart, too. It just feels too intimate, as if you're more than good friends seeking each other out after his game for a good fuck to relax his adrenaline.

Needing to ground yourself, you pin his hand beside his head and pull him for another kiss. Because a kiss, you can handle. You've kissed many times before—your lips already familiar to his teasing bites, your tongues danced sloppily around each other's mouth a thousand times.

With his other hand rubbing your clit, you unravel within minutes. Jungkook erratically thrusts below you, chasing his high, until heavy grunts leave his lips as he cums.

"Fuck, that was..." you pant, mind blanking as you look for the right word, still in a bliss. Jungkook only chuckles, hand caressing your back, basking in your afterglow.

But the moment is short-lived, and Jungkook eyes you as you pull away, "Second round at my place?"

"Not today," you pout, "I have to be at the rink in about...5 minutes."

"Can I watch?"

"Nope. Coach says it's closed practice for today. Something about a new skater coming in for tryouts." You're rushing to get dressed and Jungkook helps by fixing your skirt.

"Again?"

"Yep, apparently the last guy said I was too much of a bitch to skate with," Jungkook sees you roll your eyes. "Ah. That just means he can't keep up and you bruised his ego."

"Right," you humor him, watching him pull away to pick up his clothes, "you said that about the last guy, too."

Jungkook hums, "Him, too."

"And what about you? You can keep up with me, right?"

Knowing where the conversation's going, Jungkook faces you, "Y/N, that was for fun. And we were teens then," he chuckles, "I tackle men now and hit pucks on the ice," he's walking back to you, "none of what I do fits the graceful criteria your coach is looking for."

You giggle, having already known his answer but it's worth the ask because you've seen Jungkook bust a move on ice. Granted, not as graceful as you, but even you started out stiff.

"Right," strands of your bangs fall on your face as you nod, and Jungkook's hands, like habit, reach out to tuck your hair behind your ear. The gesture not lost on you and your knees buckle. If only there were no consequences from missing today's practice, you would gladly suck his cock dry right here and now.

"Plus, seeing the routines you do, there would be too much tension building between us that by the middle of a routine," his eyes flicker to your lips, "I might end up taking you on ice."

Oh, you are his to ruin. If only he knew.

Pulling your mind out of the gutter, you scoff, eyes rolling once again and push him by the chest. Again, Jungkook only laughs as he takes your hand and leads you out of the lockers.

-

>> Page 2

#jeon jungkook #bts fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #bts jungkook #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts angst #fwb au #jungkook x oc #jungkook x you

[jkbabiey]

a lot more

Pairing: fwb!jkxreader(f)

Genre: fluf; smut; slight angst; college!AU: fwb2lovers!AU

Warnings: dom!jk, sub!reader (they try to switch it up but it’s just not in them), athlete!jk, medstudent!reader, rough sex, praise kink, spit kink, slight overstimulation, worried kook, anxiety :(

Jungkook knew, when you texted him a 'come over' at 11:56PM on a Sunday, that college was kicking your ass. It was finals period so the real question was who's ass wasn't being kicked, but he knew it took a lot for you to admit your ass was being kicked, yet you did text him a straight-up invite to fuck - instead of calling him and beating around the bush to see who'd cave first like you always did.

Obviously, being Jeon Jungkook, he didn't even think of complaining or refusing your invite but you both knew there would be a snarky little teasing remark about your urgency to be with him. He had thought of a million ways to tease you on the way to your dorm. Still, as soon as you opened the door to your room all of the witticisms that had come to his mind throughout the ride vanished, leaving him with furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips, while his eyes analyzed your freshly washed hair, your deep dark circles, and your chapped lips. You didn't greet him, opting to just turn around, walk to the kitchen to get a bottle of cold water, and leave him to close the door on his way in.

Jungkook found this - not being greeted with a smile and a kiss on the cheek, like always - weird, to say the least. Among every single soul he had gotten to know in his two years as a college student, you had to be the kindest, sweetest, and warmest person he had ever met, which contrasted a lot with the rest of the people he knew. Most people in college, at least in the environment he was in being an athlete and belonging to a frat, got a little consumed by the freedom of being in college and away from parents and further responsibilities, and most often than not got a little presumptuous and a tiny bit too extroverted, surrendering to bad habits.

You weren't like that tho. You were still in your first year of college and hadn't experienced the tumultuous life of college parties and alcohol because (1) you didn't exactly get along with the popular people that got invited to parties and (2) even if you did get invited to parties, you didn't really like them - too many people and way too loud music. Jungkook had met you in the coffee shop you worked in. It was near college and had the best iced coffee ever. You were a pretty girl and had a cute smile so you immediately caught his attention but he didn't even try to get your number because you just emanated that quirky nerdy energy to you and that was exactly what he wasn't looking for in a girl. Basically you were far from anything close to his type. Actually, he wasn't even looking for a girl - his life was busy already and the last thing he needed was another distraction.

Still, there was no denying you when a month of stolen glances and shy smiles passed and you handed Jungkook his cup of iced coffee with your number written under his name on the name tag. He remembers panicking and not taking any advances toward you the week after you gave him your number. He didn't even go to get coffee through that week. You genuinely thought you had scarred the man away. But after he saw you in a denim skirt and a black crop top walking through uni, he couldn't help but send you a little text.

Since then you two had been casually hanging out - which was a way of saying you had been having casual sex, with absolutely no strings attached and no expectations from either side. Jungkook did consider you a friend and he thought your playful banter and fun conversations meant you also saw him as a close friend. And you two had gotten closer than a lot of Jungkook's other friends because, in his eyes, you were without a doubt the most genuine person he had ever met and you always brought a feeling of freshness with you whenever you two got together. He liked you.

He came inside your room to see what seemed like anatomy sketches and notes sprawled everywhere on your bedroom floor. "Is everything ok?" he asked once you came into your room with your water bottle. "Yeah, I've just been having a hard time focusing and decided to take a break and go take a cold shower," you said, your voice sweet as ever. You set the water bottle on top of your wooded desk and walked towards him in your tank top and tight pajama shorts. "Thought you could help me focus a little better too," you whispered, enveloping his neck with both your arms. His hands were automatically placed on your hips while his head reached down to gently kiss you on the lips.

You guided him to seat on the edge of your bed while still kissing him and straddled his lap with your legs on each side of his hips, feeling his big hands groping the flesh of your thighs. You griped the thin dark hairs on the bottom of his head and pulled them a little, smiling against Jungkook's lips when he gasped against you at the little pull.

Jungkook wasn't exactly convinced that everything was okay and that you were just having trouble focusing. He knew you struggled with anxiety and could get a little too lost in your studies, even forgetting to take care of yourself.

You felt Jungkook's hand land on your right arm to pull you back a little "W-wait y/n, is everything okay? Have you eaten today?" he asked, watching your brows furrow and your legs starting to get off of his lap. You stood up, the annoyance was obvious on your expression and Jungkook had never even seen an ounce of that on you.

"Why do you care?" you asked, angry but still wearing the same quiet and sweet as honey tone of voice. "Listen, I really have to study. I called you here for a reason but if you're not in the mood, you should go. I have things to do and I don't want to waste my tim-"

"Ok, ok," Jungkook muttered seeing as your face started getting red and your behavior became more and more erratic and restless. "Come back here," he reached for your hand, pulling you into him once again and forcing you to sit back on his lap. And you did, looking down at your hands while Jungkook placed his hands on your hips and stayed quiet, just looking at you with a soft look in his eyes.

"I'm fine, I just need to relieve some tension," you quietly explained, fidgeting with your fingers like a little kid on Jungkook's lap.

"I get it," he whispered as his lips started puckering little kisses all the way from your cheek to the skin of your neck. You rested your arms on his shoulders, pulling him closer and letting him suckle on your neck. "I'll make you feel good."

In a second his hands were under your tank top, fondling your braless chest while you rolled your hips down into his, moaning into his hair as you felt his hardening length poking your leg. You reached down his back grabbed his sweatshirt and tugged it up to try and get it on your floor. Sensing your struggle with his clothes, Jungkook maneuvered to free himself of his sweatshirt and rid you of your tank top too. Almost automatically Jungkook's mouth was on your right nipple, his tongue massaging it and teasing you with little bites, while his hand fondled your other breast. You tilted your head back in pleasure, letting out breathy moans of Jungkook's name to which he buckled his hips up.

Soon both your sleeping shorts and his jeans were next to the rest of your clothing and Jungkook's fingers were cupping your heat. "God, you're so wet," Jungkook whimpered feeling the wetness already sipping through your panties, immediately pulling them to the side and running two of his fingers through your slit. “Bet you spent the whole day thinking of my cock, haven’t you?”

You nodded and hissed at the feeling of Jungkook inserting two of his fingers inside you abruptly, and pumping them in and out in a fast motion, not even giving you the time to adjust. Everything about Jungkook was big - his height, his cock, his fingers. Two of his fingers were thicker that three of yours, which was all you could handle when you played with yourself, but whenever you and Jungkook got together you knew you needed the preparation.

"I need you," you whined and he chuckled, husky and teasing, with his plump lips just beside your ear. You reached for the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down to reveal his hard shaft, that hit his abdomen. So close to you you could feel its heat. You humped your hips against his thighs, trying to get some friction after he removed his fingers from your pussy, and heard Jungkook groan, feeling the urgency in your hasty movements, watching the desire in your eyes, and earing the neediness in your high-pitched moans.

“You think you can take me already?” he asked, half serious, half teasing, and you nodded quickly, watching the smug grin on Jungkook’s face grow.

You always got so lost whenever Jungkook was near. His presence alone was intoxicating. He was able to overpower the habitual struggle of always reaching for something, always aiming to be someone. He allowed you to be whoever you were. He allowed you to be no one if that's what you wanted - he always managed to make you feel hyperaware of every single sensation that sparked through your body and that was enough. With Jungkook, you could fall apart. He'd be the death of you and you'd let him.

He reached down, grabbing your hips and lifting you a little so his dick would align with your entrance. He let you fall suddenly so his entire length would penetrate you and you hissed, shutting your eyes closed at the sudden intrusion. No matter how many times you two did this, you'd never get used to Jungkook's size. He reached his hand in between your sweaty bodies and quickly found your clit, rubbing quick circles against the hard nub.

"C'mon baby, move," he groaned before thrusting his hips up harshly. You cried out and he moved forward to envelop your waist in his arms, pressing light feathery kisses against your temple. "Be a good girl and fuck yourself on my dick."

You settled your knees on the space next to his hips, on each side, finding support to move on top of him, and placed your tiny hands on Jungkook's strong shoulders. You moved your body all the way up slowly until only his tip was inside of you. And then started moving back down at the same slow pace, defeatedly crying out at the size of him. "That's it, slow and steady baby," his voice guttural as his lips ghosted on yours, barely touching.

You repeated the motion, starting to fasten your pace when the burn of his size subsided and all that was left was the pleasure of feeling completely full of his cock. "You fill me up so good, Kook,” you whimpered and heard the deep groan Jungkook left out. He was losing patience. Jungkook wasn't a patient man and you knew that the pace at which you could comfortably ride him wasn't the pace he could reach when he was in control. Jungkook was an animalistic lover, going fucking feral whenever he got to be inside your pussy. You could see the self-control in his expression, the clenched jaw, shut eyes, and furrowed brows said it all for you.

It didn't take long until his self-control went out the window. All it took was a loud cry of his name out your mouth when you rolled your hips in a certain way so that your clit would rub against his pelvis. He thrust his hips up roughly, his abs clenching and let out a high-pitched whimper at the feeling of your walls clenching around him. He then planted his feet firmly against the floor of your bedroom and leaned back, laying himself down on the matters and bringing your forwards with him. He placed both his hands on your ass cheeks, grabbing them hard and spreading them to start to fuck up into you, setting the pace that he wanted, rough and fast. You leaned forward, clinging to every single portion of skin you could touch, screaming out moans of pleasure.

"Fuck, love this pussy so much, always so warm and tight," he groaned into your hair and grabbed your waist so he could lay you down on the mattress, now on your back. He settled between your legs, grabbing your thighs and opening them as wide as they could possibly go, aligning himself with your hole, and going back to fucking you mercilessly. His eyes fluttered and the drag of your velvety walls against the sensitive skin of his dick, and his lips brushing against yours.

Jungkook groaned at the sound of your wet pussy sucking his cock in, reaching his hand up to roughly grab your face, forcefully pressing his fingers against your jaw. Your teary eyes locked with his lustful ones just for him to messily press an open-mouthed kiss to your lips. You couldn't keep up with his pace. You never could and you loved it that way. You loved just how messy he always made you. You loved how he used your body like you were a lifeless fuck doll, with little to no care about how you felt. You loved it just the way he did it. You loved to be fucked hard and fast.

Jungkook got on his knees, grabbing both your legs to support them on his shoulders, chasing his own pleasure. He reached so deep inside of you in the new position you felt your eyes roll back. His eyes opened and he took your fucked out figure in - teary eyes, heavy breaths, plump red lips wet with drool, wild messy hair, sweaty shiny skin, his dick poking your tummy every time he went in deep. You're so tiny compared to him, sometimes he wonders how you could take his huge cock like you always do.

"You're perfect, so fucking beautiful," he whispered reaching forward to bring his lips to yours. He pressed a messy kiss to your lips, his hips still pistoning against yours. "Such a pretty, pretty girl," he whined against your lips before pressing another kiss to them, this one softer and lighter. You brought your hands up his back, scratching him in the process and he let out a breathy moan, whiny and needy.

"Fuck Kook, I'm almost there," you cried out and Jungkook reached between your bodies to rub your clit. Gasps and moans flew out your mouth as he fastened his pace.

"Come for me, princess," and you do, going over the edge quickly after you feel his fingers pinching your clit, your pussy squelching every time he bottoms out while his fingers continued circling your sensitive nub. You feel his pace slowing down and his cock throbs from the feeling of your pussy tightening around his dick. He pulled back to watch the point where your bodies connected, the way his shiny cock went all the way in and out until only his tip was left, and then back to the warmth of your pussy, and the way your juices coated the whole length of his dick and pooled on your ass too to the point where your sheets were soaked.

Jungkook grabbed your hips, lifting them slightly and going back to the furious pace he'd set earlier, chasing an orgasm of his own, not caring at all about how overstimulated you were. You gasped and clenched the sheets under you in your fists, biting your bottom lip.

"Open your mouth," Jungkook groaned, leaning forward closer to your face. You did as told and soon after he spit in your mouth,, a bit of drool hitting your cheek instead of your mouth and he instantly feels your walls tightening once again around his cock. You instantly swallow it and he's caught off guard when you gather the spit on your cheek onto your finger and suck it clean. "Such a fucking slut," he moaned and felt his cock throb inside you. His brain was heady with lust and he could think of nothing except for your pussy. He couldn't control the volume of his moans when you reached down to rub your clit, warning him of a second orgasm. He loses it, rutting into you like a desperate beast until ribbons of white cum are spewing out of his dick and stuffing you full. The feeling of his cum inside you sent you over the edge once again and you're gasping and crying out along with him, as the tightening of your walls prolongs his high.

Jungkook fell heavy on top of you and your hands were quickly directed to his dark locks of hair, now partially drenched in sweat. You felt his heavy breaths against the skin of your neck and his panting chest against yours.

"Was I too rough?" he asked after a few minutes of just laying there and recomposing his breathing paces.

"No, it was just what I needed," you answered and he chuckled, pressing a quick peck against your neck, tickling you.

"Can I stay the night? Don't feel like driving back home," he asked, finally getting off you to lay on his back, next to you instead.

"I don't think I'm gonna sleep tonight," you answered nuzzling your face against Jungkook's chest. "You can sleep here though, no problem."

"What do you mean you're not gonna sleep tonight?" he asked, his voice sounding a lot more worried already. "Don't you have class tomorrow?"

"Yeah, but I have an exam on friday and I couldn't study properly the whole day, so I'll study now."

"Y/n, you need to rest. You spent the whole weekend studying. You're coming to sleep with me now," he argued, standing up from your bed and trying to grab your hand to take you to take a bath.

"Kook, I already said I have to study. You're not entitled to just tell me what to do. I already decided I will spend the night studying and you can't tell me not to!" you snapped and Jungkook raised his hands in defeat. He moved and started to grab his clothes and get dressed, while you sat up on your bed. "What are you doing?"

"Going home. If you already decided you're gonna spend the night studying like a fucking maniac I might as well go sleep in my own bed," he grumbled and you just watched him getting dressed, trying to figure out if this was your fault or if he was being an actual asshole for not respecting your schedules.

"Are you seriously getting mad at me because I need to study?"

"I'm not mad y/n," he sighed. "I just think that you can't take care of yourself for shit. I'm sure all you've eaten since Friday was a fucking apple and two protein bars and you're probably running on two hours of sleep. And now I try to help and you lash out at me?" he expresses his anger in the calmest way possible and his eyes don't express anything other than worrisome. "I'm going home, now. Do whatever you want," he said, coming closer to you, that were still seating down on your bed, and leaning down to press a kiss against your forehead. He was angry but he wouldn’t just leave without a kiss because that would just give you something else to overthink about. He always kissed your forehead on his way out.

He was driving towards his house but you still persisted in his mind. Had you slept at all throughout the whole weekend? And what exactly had you eaten in the last two days? Also, tomorrow was Monday and your first class was at 9AM from what he remembered from the timetable you had stuck on your bedroom door. So how were you planning on not sleeping?

He doesn't remember making any rational decision to stop in front of a convenience store to buy two boxes of instant chicken noodles and a pack of tea bags. He didn't exactly think it through. It was just a random thought that popped out and he just did it, like it was second nature to take care of you.

Suddenly, he was back at your door, knocking on the door, to find you already washed up, and brushing your teeth. "Wha- are yo-doin- here?" you asked, words muffled from the toothbrush in your mouth.

"I brought noodles because you actually have to eat something and you're having a cup of tea after to calm your nerves, so you can come to bed with me. Does that sound good?"

"Kook-"

"I don't even care, you have no choice. You are going to sleep tonight. I'm not letting you fuck up your body and your health over an exam," he interrupted you, already angry and the furrowed brows were back to tell you that he wasn't taking no for an answer anytime soon. And then he turned his back to you, walking towards your tiny kitchen to start cooking the noodles, apparently still angry.

You finished brushing your teeth and then walked up to Jungkook, a huge smile on your face that he didn't see because his broad back was turned to you. You enveloped his waist with your arms.

"Thank you for taking care of me," you whispered and he turned back to you, picking you up to take you in his arms as if you were a total baby as your legs circled his torso.

"Well, someone has to," he answered with a teasing smile on his lips, and you quickly leaned forward to kiss it away. "Now, you're staying up here. I don't know to which extent you won't just faint from how long you haven't eaten if I put you down."

Eventually, he did let you down and you two finished cooking together. After you ate together in comfortable silence he made you tea, which you drank in the warmth of your bed and then you laid down as he wrapped your body in his arms.

"Oh I forgot to tell you," you exclaimed from the space between Jungkook's shoulder and neck, where your face was nuzzled. "You're a great stress relief, I'll start calling you every time I'm having a nervous breakdown," you laughed and Jungkook's arms got tighter around you.

"You know you can, right? Call me if you are having a nervous breakdown, I mean," he whispered against your hair.

When you and Jungkook started hanging out, it wasn’t suposed to unvolve any kind of commitment. You were studying medicine and he was an athlete. You both had busy lives and a relationship was the last thing you needed. Everyone needed good sex from time to time tho, so that’s what you agreed on.

But you meant a lot more that just sex to Jungkook. And Jungkook’s meant a lot more than sex to you.

“I will, from now on.” you whispered, looking him in the eye and sending him a gentle smile.

It was in the way Jungkook’s arms were the most comfortable place you could think of even if you thought of your own home. There was no other place you’d rather be, when you’re in his arms. Nothing felt more like home than his arms. And it’s in the way the smell of your hair and the tone of your voice lifted the weight Jungkook was used to carry on his shoulders throughout the whole week. He could relax completely around you. He knew that when he was with you there was no pressure. You accepted him just the way he was. It’s in the way you loved when Jungkook’s eyes shone brighter when he talked about his passions or in the way he loved to take you to new restaurants because he couldn’t get enough of you childishly humming and dancing to random songs when you tasted food you liked.

It was in the way you just laid down that night and stared at each other for minutes on end, not saying a word. And in the way he moved his hand to run his fingers through your hair. And in the way you roamed your eyes throught his face, just to end up kissing his lips gently. And in the way you just closed your eyes, going to sleep with your arms around each other.

It all meant a lot more, and you both knew it.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook reaction #jungkook smut #jungkook scenario #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jungkook doctor au #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook college au #college!au jungkook #fwb #jungkook fwb #fwb!au #fwb to lovers #fwb au

[rkivepetals]

window panels ;1

If there’s one thing Jungkook knows about his new neighbour, is that she’s a bitch.

Pairing; guitarist!Jungkook x lawyer!femreader

Neighbour au, enemies to lovers, fake girlfriend, idiots in love.

Pure pure romance and fluff. And obviously, comical.

You hated him, hated him the second he came your way while you were running to court, and you hated him even more when he played his Goodman guitar in the middle of the night, and you hated him 10x when he ruined your weekend, or when he begged to you to act like his girlfriend for his grandma. You thought it started with drawing middle fingers for each other on your windows, but you’re not sure if it’ll end that way.

Word count of part one: 8k

She’s finally out of dungeon polished and shiny 😘

Main master list

It started slow, peaceful, full of compassion. Your sleep was full of contentment. It was barely ten in the morning, your drool hanging and almost dripping down at your notepad in your lap. Eyes close, one leg over the sofa handles, one sprawled out, pens falling, about five books laid open. You slept as if you hadn't your whole life.

You knew your back would pain like gods-forsaken hell in the morning, and you knew you had to be awake the whole night to complete your work, but you also knew you were writing down scribbles instead of words, and you had to take a nap. It's been three days, you needed sleep. The concealer is doing a terrible job at hiding those dark circles and you almost every time fall asleep in court.

So when I say it was content—your sleep, even in the position of a dead frog, you found comfort, as long as you were breathing with eyes closed you were fine. But of course, much-awaited worse things waited for you with your heavy cell phone and the constant vibrations of your alarm and then it blew up, with a loud ring that pierced the back of your mind. Your eyes shot open as if a supernatural creature.

You quickly flap your hands and find it, your phone. Quickly picking up, your boss screams at you. "Y/n!" You tightly shut your eyes, "y-yes?" Suppressing a yawn she yelled, "Where are you?! We have a hearing in fifteen minutes! Where are the papers!?" Your eyes widened, checking the ticking clock over your head.

You slept through your work time. "I'm—I'm coming! I'm just there!" You ran to your bathroom, thankfully you at least have one good habit of picking out your outfit for the next day, splashing water on your face as you breathed heavily and changed like a maniac, your back was digging holes in your skull, and you took your bag, shoved the file in it and ran out. A man was standing there, proceeding to smile but you shoved him away and ran down, loud trucks growling. "Move!"

Heels clicking loudly against the footpath as you sit in a taxi, "the court." The driver looks at you, Baffled. "But I don't—" "Hurry up!" You say and shove a mint pill in your mouth, all while patting the foundation on your cheeks. You grunt when the mascara gets on your cheek, wiping it furiously as you rub the lipstick on your dry lips and spot a water bottle against the seat. "That's—uh.."

The driver watched you gulp it down in one go and removed the smudged lipstick. "Yes, right there." You say and shove the cash down his shoulder and walk out, opening the hairpin and clipping it against the bag straps, you walk towards your boss and greet, "Morning!" You say and take out the file, she sighed.

"Is there a day where you don't fuck up your time management, y/n?" You smile awkwardly, "I slept a little too much." She shook her head as you followed her inside the court.

Jung Kook was sure of one thing, his new neighbour is a bitch. He stood there, shoved right to the side as he watched you run like a hawk through the streets. He slightly glares, all he wanted was to say hi. He swears, he tried to smile at you but you didn't even listen to him. "Hah. I give this one, she might be late to work."

He says, a deep wound on his male ego. He clicked his tongue and exhaled, "Maybe she didn't know someone was moving in." He tries to justify, walking towards his house. It wasn't far, just two steps. You and Jungkook even share a window to your bedrooms, he looks over at his furniture. "Hey, man! We need you here!"

You sighed, head paining, spine throbbing, you uncomfortably moved as you gulped down the office breakfast. "So you were late again?" You hummed, brows furrowed, enjoying your first meal of the day at two in the afternoon. "Did it go well?" You hum again, not bothering to reply to your friend. She sighs, "Y/n you know if you keep doing this you're not near a promotion any time soon?"

You swat your hand annoyingly, "Yeah! I know! Stop shoving it in my face! You have no idea what it takes to be an assistant under her!" She shushed you, "Be careful. The director strolls around here in the afternoon." You rolled your eyes and shoved the pipe in the hole of your drink, sipping it as you pressed your back against the chair, hoping it'd soothe the pain a little.

"But honestly, you've worked pretty hard, you deserve the promotion." Your friend, jiyoon pout in pity at you. "I know, maybe she has a bit of an ego problem." Jiyoon sneered, "Maybe she thinks you'd be better than her?" You shrugged, "who knows." You sigh at the ticking clock, "Four more hours until I go home."

You yawned, walking down the familiar streets as you rubbed your arms. "I need new work clothes." You murmured, pouting. Noticing the lights on in the house beside you, "Someone moved in?" You say and hurried your steps, heels clicking as you bend over and look over at the outside. "Seems like a guy."

You scrunched your nose in disappointment, "hey." You gasp and move back in surprise, a good-looking, tall, man smiles at you. You flutter your lashes, "I'm Jung Kook, I moved in." You looked over at the house and then at him, nodding your head. "Nice." You say, moving to the side and walking toward your door, Jungkook loudly clears his throat. Turned his head and looked over at you, who jiggled the keys to open the door.

He followed you, you squint your eyes, "what?" He bites his lip in anticipation, "I heard you're a lawyer." You sighed and turned to him, "Yes, and? Do you have a case to file?" He shook his head, "No no, I was just wondering if I could borrow some sugar. I recently moved in, I need it in my coffee." You hummed and entered, "wait here."

He abruptly took his steps back from your entrance as he waited for you to come and lend him sugar. He noticed the dirty living room full of books and spilt coffee, the couch covered in different clothes of you, and shoes sprawled out. Maybe that's why you didn't invite him over, "here." You give him the small container of sugar as he looks down then at your face.

He held it, and suddenly the next thing you knew was sugar all over your entrance. You gasped as Jungkook stood stunned. His hold slipped on the plastic container, "well..." he chuckled nervously, and you clenched your fist and grit your teeth in anger. "I think we're done. You shall leave now." You say and close the door on his face.

The air through the shut cut through his throat when I tell you. He sighed, shoes covered in sugar as he cursed under his breath, both himself and you as he walked back. "Why I'd have to go to her out of all?!"

You plop on your bed, scowling at the ceilings. Yawning and eyes closing, throwing your hairpin somewhere as you closed your eyes, tired to the very edge. But god good, someone has to play an electric guitar. Your eyes wide open, "was it in my head?" You'd murmured before you shifted your body and clutched your pillow.

The involuntary high guitar notes echoed again, almost like comical music. You got up this time, looking around your empty, messy bedroom. You sighed, laying back down, it played again, and this time it continued. You screamed in frustration. "Who is this?!— ah." You chuckled, "fuck."

You scoot closer to your window, peeking from it. Your neighbour stood shirtless, eating a "pumpkin pie in summer?!" You frowned, a big black guitar in his hands. His fingers worked on it, you hurriedly check your phone. It was almost three a.m., and you clenched the sheets, burying your head in the pillow as you screamed in frustration. It got worse, he eventually started playing louder.

"Fuck fuck fuck him!" You coiled, trying your hardest to at least take a nap. It never happened, but one good thing about an all-nighter is that you can at least go to work early. You yawned, stumbling on thin air due to your body not taking a rest the whole night. "This is worse than babysitting a child."

You murmured, taking out your peach heels and wearing them, pushing past the front door and locking it. You were immediately showered with water on your face. You moved back, hysterical. Breathing heavily as you looked down at your peachy orangish suit all wet You had pressed the last night.

You gasp, "Mom, see I'm watering my front yard." You grit your teeth, "Let me guess, it's him." You murmured and looked up. Your neighbour smiling sweetly at his mom through FaceTime, and you grunt and stomp your feet. "Oh? Jungkook who is behind you?" He glanced behind him but turned his back again, "Ah, my neighbour. I've to hang up now. Bye!"

You flipped back your hair, walking cockily to him. "Mama's sweet boy, I see!" You said, sarcasm clearly as he looked up and down at you. "Good morning I guess." You fumed, "There is no good morning!" You screamed as he dropped his water spray and looked at you, "Stop screaming on my property!" "Your property?!"

You jumped in the wet sand, "fuck your property! Do you even know how much this suit costs me?!" "I said stop yelling!" "But you are also yelling at a woman!" You both glared at each other, and your neighbour from the other side came over, Mrs. Kim is what you call her. "Oh! Y/n and jungkook? Why are you both fighting?!"

She rushed, "he sprayed water on my Armani suit!" He gasped, "I didn't do that on purpose! It's not my fault that she's standing in the way of me and my plants, Mrs. Kim!" He yelled as you breathed heavily, throwing your bag and clutching his collar, "I was not standing in your way!" She gasped and got rid of you as Jung Kook dramatically checked himself.

"I am going to file a case against you! You-you!" He heftily cried, "I will get you arrested for assaulting a man in wide daylight." "Whatever! I am not scared of you and your lame tactics! Like a little man! I will see you in court!" You point your finger as you pick your bag from the ground and stomp out your way to work. "What is wrong with her?"

He tried to calm himself down, "She's a little stressed—" "She tried to kill me!"

On the same night, jungkook exits his small shower room. Drying his wet hair he sips his coffee on the side. Clearing his throat as he picked up his guitar, looking up and then squinting his eyes. A big wide poster was on your bedroom window. 'DO NOT PLAY THE GUITAR AT NIGHT OR I WILL THROW RAW EGGS AT YOU AND YOUR STUPID HOUSE. SINCERELY, Y/N.' He scoffed, pushing his guitar aside as he hurried a white paper and marker.

"I don't care!" He said and wrote it in the big wide font and stuck it to his window. Proceeding to play the guitar nonetheless.

The next morning, when jungkook woke up at about two p.m. in the peak afternoon, he stretched his, naked, sweaty, body. Groaning as he ruffled his hair then suddenly smelled something bad. He sniffed around like a pup, then opened his window and noticed the raw eggs at his once shiny window glass. He gasped and looked toward your window, a wobbly middle finger drawn.

He clenched his fist, "oh, you called for it." That afternoon, he didn't go out to find possible jobs that could earn him bucks to buy food and eat it. He took his time sketching a clean, almost realistic middle finger and sticking it to his window before he napped for two hours straight.

When you came, like a ghost, reeling through streets and immediately dropping your bag in the entryway and plopping on your one-sitter couch. Breaking in cries afterwards, "I can't find peace at work, not at home, not even the fucking bathroom!" You whined, throwing your legs as you watched the ceiling, the loud noise of utensils clashing coming from your left house. "What sin did I commit to have him as my neighbour!? God!"

You snuff and get up, stumbling on the stairs and crawling back up. A slicked, sketched, three-dimensional middle finger greeting you on your neighbour's window. You fumed and took pen and paper, aggressively doodling down another one and sticking up your window. Hopefully, he gets a bit of an idea of how much pain in the ass he is.

You drop on your bed, still in your Armani suit. The scenes from today's repeating in your mind. The fight with your neighbour, then getting yelled at by your boss, then dealing with a friend who's going through a breakup, then working overtime, then coming home to a middle finger shoved to your face. What a sacred godforsaken life.

It came, again, the loud echoes of his electric guitar. "I hope his guitar breaks!" You yelled, and he listened. So he went even more aggressively. You screamed in the air, like some possessed thing.

The cycle continued the whole week, not sleeping at night and taking naps on buses, huge dark circles, and droopy eyes all the time. A shit ton of caffeine running through the veins, it was hectic. But you were looking forward to the weekend. If he's a guitarist, he must be having shows at that time, and you can finally sleep the whole day and night, and you swear. I repeat you swear on your mom and dad that you will snap his neck in two if he fucks up your peaceful weekend.

It came, the weekend came. TGIF. you happily hopped on your way home, showing a middle finger to your neighbour who was vacuuming as he shoved one back at you. Not giving him a mind, you happily changed your black suit in your Hello Kitty pyjamas. Opening the big bowl of fried chicken you bought on your way home, you sit on the floor, with a comedy show playing on your laptop as you peacefully eat your chicken.

Exhaling and plopping on your bed, you watch your dirty ceilings. Jungkook has been quiet, thank god he is. You wonder how. Whatever at the end of the day, you closed your eyes and let sleep take over you.

What felt like the middle of the night, you coughed. Smelling something bad, as if gas leaking in your cylinder. You coughed loudly, trying to get up and run out, to check what was wrong. You swat your hand across and walk down the stairs, stumbling inside the kitchen as you hurriedly turn off the gas and run out of your house. Immediately falling off on what seemed like a grandma.

You breathe heavily, gulping and taking her up because she fell on the ground. "Are you okay?" You asked her as she nodded, groaning in pain. "Why are you here so late at night?!" You ask her, "I..." She coughed as you patted her back. "My gas was leaking, that's why I'm out here. You shouldn't be, it's not safe around." You say as she keeps coughing.

"Grandma!" Surprisingly, your neighbour ran toward her as she smiled at him. "So she is your girlfriend?" You couldn't hear them, you were stressed, peeking inside your house as Jungkook looked at you. Then back at his grandma, a horrendous idea clicking his cells. He smiles, "Yes." She smiled at her grandson. "She is pretty."

You peeked, "Ah!" Wiggling your body and grunting. Jungkook bites his lower lip, "what happened?" He asked, you glanced back at him and his grandma. "Why do you care?" You say and clear your throat, stepping inside your own house and locking the door. You quickly opened all the Windows and walked up to your bedroom, taking your phone and turning on the lights. Calling the fire department.

Jungkook's grandma raised her eyebrows at him, the crickets echoing in the back. he chuckled awkwardly. "We...we fought." She looked at him, judged. "What?" He asked, taking her back to his own house on rent. "Are you sure she is your girlfriend? Or are you lying to me?" He shook his head, "No! I told you, we fought! I'll—I'll make up to her. Let me put you to sleep first. And that is my house, not this one." He lied, as she sighed and shook her head.

"Check correctly! I didn't even turn on the gas last night. This shouldn't be happening!" You say as the firefighters look closely in your small kitchen, you sigh and look to the front, a frown of stress moulting into confusion. "Him? What if he did them so he could take revenge on me?" You murmured and walked toward your front door.

"What are you doing here?" Jungkook nervously scratched his neck. It was four a.m., and you were both hungry and sleep-deprived, "what?!" You yelled as he cleared his throat and tried smiling at you. "Uh...what happened?" You sigh, "My gas leaked. Something is wrong probably. But what was your grandma doing here?!" You squint and fold your hands, walking closer.

He sighed, "I just realised we never had a formal conversation about each other." You looked at his face, trying to rationalise what does he want. "So?" He chuckled, "Funny....uh..." You were getting pissed, "What do you want?!" He exhales, "I want you to pretend as If you're my girlfriend! Please!" He begged on his knees as you hysterically moved back and fell on your hips.

Screeching in pain Jungkook crawled toward you, "Are you okay!?" You held his shoulders and got up with his support. "Ah! My hip bones are crushed because of you! You are so... ugh! Bad luck!" You scream in frustration. Breathing heavily, at four in the morning, staring at his stupid fucking face. "You said what?"

He nervously chuckled, "That can you pretend to be my....partner." You blinked, "for what?" He exhaled, "My grandma owns real estate in London, and she has seven grandsons. She wants to give her property only to me but..." you frowned, folding your hands and walking toward him, "but you need to have a partner?" He smiles and nods, "Exactly!"

You scoffed, "I think you forgot that I'm a lawyer. You can't fool me. And I'm not pretending to be your partner." You said and turned your back towards him, walking inside. "But it's the truth! Why would I want to be with you? It's not nonsense!" You rolled your eyes, about to close your door. "I can pay you a hundred dollars every day!"

You stop. Hands-on the knob, mouth slightly open. "Hundred dollars....?" You whispered and peeked at his panicked state of form. "What did you say?" "Hundred dollars for a day." You raised your brows, "huh?!" "Ugh! Okay, fine two hundred!" You smirk. "I didn't hear you!"

You lie as he sighs, walking and opening the door wide. "Three hundred and fifty dollars every day. Not one cent more." You smiled, thinking about it. "Hold on!" He frowned as you happily hop inside, eyeing the firefighters do something in your kitchen as he waits. You come back, hopping like a bunny with a wide smile.

"Four hundred and fifty dollars every day, and you will take the responsibility for my food, well-being and bills." He scoffs, "No thanks. I'll find somebody else." He says and takes his cue, you frown. Running after him, "Wait wait!" You held his bicep and came in front of his body, "Okay, three fifty, no bills. Just food." He didn't ease up as you sighed, "I am a lawyer, I'll be risking millions for this."

He still didn't ease up, "come on! Do you even know the price out there?!" He frowned, "what'd you mean I know the price!?" You slightly Cough, "I mean, no one would do it for you. You should be grateful that I'm even hearing you out." Jungkook sighed, looking at your cunning face, frowning in disbelief that he was even doing something like this. He thought for a moment, was it really going to be worth it? But he for sure knows his grandma would love you, especially when you're a lawyer. "Fine!"

You smiled, "nice! Now, I'm going to sleep. I'll...see you tomorrow." You say and leap inside, "What's your full name?" He asked as you peeked from your door, "Kim y/n!" You winked as Jungkook cringed before he jogged to his own little damn house.

When Jungkook yawned and opened his eyes, he immediately smelled delicious Korean food. "Ah, y/n must be a good cook." He stretched his body and hurriedly walked down, a dreamy smile on his lips as he inhaled the delicious smell, "your girlfriend even come here or not? Look at this dirty sink, do you even know the word 'clean' Jungkook?" His grandma scolds, and he grimaces and blinks rapidly.

"What time is it?"

"Two p.m!"

"Ah!"

"Also." She came forward with her spatula, "What is that on your and her windows?!"

His eyes enlarged, "what?!"

"I need you to explain that! How the hell do you both function watching middle fingers on your windows!?" She shouted

Jungkook nervously chuckled, "Uh..that's..that's a Gen Z thing, grandma. Everyone in relationships does that."

"Draw middle fingers?!"

Jungkook nervously choked out a giggle, "Y-yeah. Sort of."

She sighed and shook her head, "Call y/n over, it's Sunday. I wanna know if she is even good enough for you."

Jungkook scratched his head, already knowing the answer as he wore his in-house slippers and walked to your side of the street.

He yawns, constantly ringing the bell. The harsh sun piercing his eyes, you finally opened, with a wide yawn as he scowled down at you and your jello kitty night suit. "What?!" You yelled, "Come over! And remove those posters from the windows! And brush your teeth!" He said, walking away. "You brush your teeth! Ugly!"

You move back your hair, ringing his bell. This is the first time you're going to see his house from the inside. Hoping to not get dengue or something. His grandma opened instead as you immediately smiled at her, "Good morning, grandma." She sighs and lets you in, "come. Jungkook is having brunch." You lick your lips and clear your throat.

"Oh! Baby!" He lurched onto you, you nudged him aside. "Stay away!" You scowled. His Grandma looked between you both as you nervously chuckled, "Oh I mean, yeah! Good morning!" You still push him out of your way and sit on the small dining table but he side. "That's her way of showing love."

Jungkook tries to conceal as the grandma frowns suspiciously at you both. Sighing afterwards, "Anyway, y/n. Do you come here often?" "No." "Yes." You looked at Jungkook, this close to taking his stupid head and banging it against the table but you smiled. "Sometimes."

She hums, "Jungkook told me he moved here after you. Why don't you both live together then?" You cleared your throat, "I don't get the time for this. I mean, I am an assistant lawyer. My whole house is just law books and garbage. there's no point of living together." She chuckled and served you some soup.

"That's right. Where do you work?" You dip your spoon in the soup, "peach law firm." She sighed as she watched you eat. "Oh. Nice. Do they pay you well?" You hummed, "they do." She glanced at you both, suspicious even. Sighing, she said. "I'll be taking a bath, you must come here often so I don't need to tell you anything." Jungkook nods his head, "she does!"

You smiled at her until she was out of your sight then glared at Jungkook. "What?" He asked, mouth full. You cleared your throat, "what do you do? Besides annoyingly playing the guitar at four a.m.?" He hums, "That's what I do. I play the guitar." You frowned, "like? That's your job?" He nods, not looking at you, focused on his plate. You sneer, "Is that even a job?"

He frowned, "you think you're superior just because you did law?

"Yes." You continue to slurp, "Ah!" Exhaling afterwards.

He sighs, "I won't give you money for the days you will be working, you barely would do anything and snatch three fifty just like that..."

You shrug, "Fine, don't. I'll tell her the truth that you pay me."

He sneered, "What makes you think you'd be the only saint if you revealed it to my grandma? She'd get just as angry at you for taking money from me."

You hum, "I know." You looked at him, "But I am not her grandson, you are."

He sighs, putting his chopsticks down. "Are you threatening me?"

"Take it as whatever you want. Brrrr..." You leaned back on your seat. "Do you have something cold?"

You yawned, walking toward your home. You're tired after hearing his grandma blabber 24/7. "Why are you coming with me?" You asked, stumbling a little in heels. "Because I want her to think we are genuine." You laughed out loud, echoes from the sky coming back to you. "So how long is she staying with you?" You asked, breaking your knuckles. "I dunno, a week I guess.."

"Three hundred fifty dollars by seven is..." you frowned, trying to calculate.

"Two thousand four hundred fifty dollars," Jungkook said as you shrugged, giving up on the calculation. He sighs, "That's how much I'm going to pay you?"

You hum and nod, "Yes. And I will buy a car with that money."

He chuckled, a little endearing. Born on a silver spoon, Jungkook never had to worry about small things, it gave him the freedom to become a guitarist. His father gave him all the luxuries, from high-end clothes to sports cars. Hearing someone wanting to buy a car got him. "Since how long have you wished to buy one?" He asked.

"Hmm...since college. But my fees were so high, that I barely survived in that haunted building. Thankfully I got a job in the firm. and my parents got into an accident..." You fell silent for a moment, "they didn't survive. I didn't have enough money at the time so I had to sell off my dad's vintage car. Ever since then, it's been struggle after struggle...wait." You looked at his glossy eyes, "why am I telling you this?"

You scoffed as he slightly smiled, clearing his throat afterwards. You sighed and walked into your small entrance. "Bye." He said, you looked at him for a moment but didn't say anything. Locking your door instead.

On the other day, you didn't even see him and his grandma, you had major cases to take care of and arrange papers for, and you left earlier than usual after a while. Coming home at almost eleven in the night, you threw your stupid bag somewhere and plopped down on the couch. Spine in a coiling pain as you closed your eyes, you didn't even have the energy to get up and drink water, nor to have a meal.

Surprisingly, Jungkook knocked on your door. You didn't open, you didn't wish to, you were too tired to deal with him. He sighs, turning the knob and stepping in. As usual, a mess forsaken and you slept on your red couch. He looked down at the sandwiches, it felt very inappropriate to just walk into your house but if he came back home with his lunchbox filled, his grandma would take over. And he doesn't want that.

Clearing his throat, in case you wake up. You didn't, he rolled his eyes and sighed, placing the lunchbox on the kitchen counter, picking up your bag and placing it on the table. He stares at you, deep asleep, then at your bookshelf and the whole living room. Hands twitching to wake you up, he shook his head and rather ran away.

You'd uncomfortably stretch your torso, midst asleep as you'd notice the lights on. Still, In your work attire, you'd get up instead and sigh, trying to walk toward the switchboard, stomach grumbling in hunger and then you'd notice a magical lunchbox on your kitchen counter. Blinking again and again to check if you're dreaming or not.

A lunchbox stood there, you hurriedly open it, seeing cold sandwiches. You scoff, "There's no way..." You rub your eyes, sigh and take the triangular shape of bread filled with lettuce and cutlet and eat it, nodding your head in satisfaction.

Days passed quickly, and you barely saw them——both him and his grandma around. Days were getting busier too, you were sleepless, once again, and you were crushing your bone and muscle to get a promotion in the firm. Jungkook stopped playing guitar at night and he didn't shove a middle finger down at you whenever he saw you without his grandma. You wouldn't smile at him, nor would he.

It has been two weeks, two a.m in the night, you were counting on your budget for the month, with negative five dollars in your bank account. Groaning at the severely less amount of cash you had in your wallet. Payday was very far, you're running out of daily essentials like toothpaste, rice, and oil. Someone rang on your door, and you knew who it was going to be.

Putting the cash back in your wallet and slightly bending the screen of your laptop, you walked and opened the door to the all too familiar Jungkook. You waited for him to speak, "So...won't you let me in?" You glanced behind and cleared your throat, "it's very messy," he nodded, "I know." You sigh in embarrassment, letting him in your house in the middle of the night.

He cleared his throat, not knowing where to sit as you walked past him sitting on the floor against your square dining set tea table. He sat ahead of you, noticing laptops, notepads, and bills. "Why did you come this late at night?" You asked, "I know you are busy all day so I thought this was the right Moment." You nod, "Is your grandma still here?"

He shook his head, "No. She went away like, two three days ago." You sighed, "Did you find another girlfriend?" He chuckled, "No. She saw you working day and night and was very proud. There was no need to have another one." You blink, cheeks burning as you clear your throat. "So?"

He takes out the cheque. "Your payment which I promised." You blinked, looking at the amount written, 400$ with his sign on the end. You looked up at his face, "are you really..." you tried to find the right words. "I didn't do much though, you don't have to pay if you don't wish to." It took all your mighty morals to say because you knew you had holes in your pockets.

And he blinked, was it too much? He asked himself, fingers still on the cheque as you continuously chant in your head for a positive answer. He slipped the cheque his way, just a little as you glared at the 400 dollar sign, "Since you're being considerate, I'll take it." You pressed your fingers on it, taking it your way as he rapidly blinked.

You smiled at him, "thanks." He lowly chuckles, as if ironically. "It's—it's okay." He cleared his throat as you pressed down a relieved smile and placed the cheque in your wallet. He awkwardly looks at you, "Do you I mean, are you going to have a promotion soon?" You frowned, "I don't know. I hope I do."

He hums, "Did your grandma believe this? Are you going to have property directly?" He chuckled, "I'm not sure. Maybe, maybe not. who knows." You hummed, and right at that moment. With that godforsaken hum, a shiver ran up Jungkook's spine. He looks at you, slowly turning your gaze his way. He confusingly—slightly tilts his head.

A little part of his heartbeat echoed in his mind. And it came, right onto your faces, like some volatile garbage can breaking in half, from his mouth. "Do you have a boyfriend?" His fingers curled when he realised what he had just asked, 'EW EW EW' he yelled at himself in his mind. You slightly frowned, "No wait! Like—you know what I'll just—good night!"

He hysterically gets up from the floor, running away from you as you follow him, "where are you going?!" "Home!" He slipped in his slippers as you slightly trip onto your charger, in that moment he opened the door to exit. "Don't you wanna know the answer?!" He stops two steps away from your main door.

Blinking rapidly as his insides inverted. He curled his fingers, gulping as you walk toward him. Hand on the doorknob, you slightly lean, a teasing smile—almost like a smirk as he already made a pout to kiss. "No, I don't." You say and shut the door on his pouty face. You giggled evilly, enjoying the way he went bonkers.

Jungkook stood like that, stunned, frozen, like a statue, for five seconds straight. With that stupid fucking pout on his lips. Then he erupted like a volcano, not just only him—his embarrassment erupted in five different methods, vocally abusive, bonkers in the mind, crying, shocked, cringed. He swears, this was by far the most embarrassing moment of his life, out of all the time he's been rejected from music labels, this was quite an achievement.

And when he plops down on his bed, thinking in. "Why did I stop playing my guitar at four a.m. suddenly?!" 'Because you didn't want to disturb her.' His angel over the head replied, "But why would I not want to disturb her?! I hate her! Ew!" The angel smiles, 'because you care for her.'

His fingers coiled in cringe, stuffing his head in the pillow, "Why am I doing this?! Agh!" And what felt like two more hours of screaming, kicking legs, losing his entire state of mind and America. He finally gets in the position to sleep—physically. He breathes heavily, frowning, looking at his boring ceilings, as if deciding on which next island he's going to buy. "Maybe it was out of sympathy."

He frowned even further, soured. "BUT WHY WOULD I WANT TO KISS FOR SYMPATHY MY GOD." He yelled loudly as if trying to tell them demons as if convincing himself that he was not attracted to you. But it came right on the face every time he tried. It's like it was obvious all along—but he hates you.

Jung Kook sat ahead of his phone. Wondering if he should do it or not—maybe he should not. But that's the only person who could give him answers. He groaned, "How can a girl fuck up my mind so well?" He cried and regained his posture, clearing his throat as he pressed the call button. It rang, but no one picked up.

He sighs, plopping his head down on the same bed he's rotting on thinking about you nonstop. It rang after a few minutes as he picked up, a little drowsy, "Hello?" He says, "Yes? How are you jungkook?" His grandma asks sweetly as he exhales, "I'm fine now, are you taking your pills on time?" She hums, "I am. How is y/n?"

He squints, clenching the sheets as he clears his throat. "She's fine." She hums. "Grandma, I have this friend. Who is like fucking crazy? He...kinda likes his neighbour. But he can't figure out why, because he hates her." She giggled, "How can he hate and like her at the same time?" He sighs, "I...don't know. Maybe she's a little too pretty? Maybe? I dunno, I swear. And...yeah."

Grandma giggled again, "Why are you asking me this, Jung Kook?" He exhaled once more, laying on his back. "Because when he saw her last night, he asked her if she has a boyfriend, like really abruptly. He didn't even know what he was blabbering. And she said she doesn't. What should he do now?" Grandma hums, "It's you and y/n isn't it?"

Jungkook's world collapses yet again. He wished he hadn't called her at all. "No! Me and her are in a relationship! We're going on a date...yeah." She giggles softly, "Kook, I knew you and y/n weren't together the moment I saw you both together." Jungkook clenched his hair and buried his head in the mattress, hoping it would swallow him whole.

"Then why didn't you say anything?" He murmured, "Because it was fun. Seeing you try so hard to be with a girl." "Grandma!" She giggled, "Even though I knew you both weren't yet together, I didn't see it too far. That's why I played along." Jungkook sighs, watching his ceilings yet again. "What do I do now?"

She chuckled, "ask her out!"

"Really?"

"Yes."

"What if she rejects me?"

"She won't. If she wanted to, she would've thrown you out last night. Did she?"

He clicked his tongue, "she didn't."

A small smile grew on his lips, remembering your face when you said you didn't have a boyfriend. "Then she won't reject. And if she does, court her." "Pffft.." he exhales, "but I hate her." His grandma laughed at him. "Then stop hating her? If you hated her you wouldn't have been in this situation now." He sighs, "Once you stop hating her, you'll automatically love her."

He kinda blushed not gonna lie. Cleared his throat, "I'll see." She hums, greeting him bye and ending the call. He laid down face again, "how to even ask her out? What does she even like? Does she even like me? Agh!"

You smiled at your colleague, walking out of the law firm and taking the bus. You sit by the window, clutching your bag in your hands as you think about last night. Chuckling to yourself at how easily he gave up, "Stupid." You murmured, tugging a strand of hair behind your ear. Finding him adorable of how easily he fucks up.

You got up, pressed the red button, exited the bus and walked towards your society. You halt for a second, feeling a presence behind you. Cleared your throat and continued to walk again. Shivers ran down your body as you spot jungkook outside his entryway. He stood straight, suppressing a yawn as he looked at you.

You glanced behind one more time, feeling a bit scared but gulped anyway seeing jungkook ahead. "Hey.." you looked at him, "Hi." He cleared his throat, "Grrr...uh...so..." you waited for him, "do you wanna watch something together? Like totally not forcing you but like y'know? Cool stuff. Maybe a Netflix show?" You softly sneer, "Why?"

Now that's when. "Because...because grandma told me that, once you stop hating someone You start loving them." You chuckled, and his heart reached a new high. What the fuck was happening, all this in just one single day was mad crazy for him. "Fine. I'll think about it." You say and continue to walk your way. 

He gasped, coming frontier. "I'm asking you out so nicely and you're saying you'll think about it?!" His small eyes enlarged at your face. "A girl needs some time, jeon." He sighs, and you walk closer to your own house. "Well if you're truly going to reject me then say it to my face I—" he stood stunned, stunned when you tiptoed, held his jaw and softly touched your lips on his cheek.

A little numb in the brain as he stood frozen, you giggled and walked your way, opening the door and watching him stumble against your postbox and hit his head on the brick wall. "Shit, fuck!" He screams, cheeks burning, and you giggle. "Not today! I've so much work! Tomorrow maybe!" You yell as he looks at you, a little teary with pain as he nods his head, "Okay?" You ask, "Okay!"

You lightly push back your hair, a little nervous. Fidgeting your fingers as you wait for your boss' client to exit so you can enter inside. A woman in her mid-40s with a dark red dress exits as you finally get up, clearing your throat. Hoping you're not getting fired as you Knocked twice and entered. Your boss signed something and you almost ran back.

Nonetheless, she told you to sit. "How are you?" She asks, you slightly smile. "Good, I guess." She nonchalantly chuckles, pushing an envelope your way. "You're promoted to our Lead attorney. No more running errands for lawyers." Your eyes winded, you looked at the envelope and opened it, your promotion paper signed by her and the board of directors. "Really?!"

Your eyes almost teared, "Yes, more bonus days, more money and a personal office." You pressed your lips together, finally seeing your years of hard work paying off. You got up, bowing several times, "Thank you so much for this! I'll try my best every time I step in court in the name of our law firm! You won't be disappointed!" She chuckled, "I know! That's why I choose you! Now go and enjoy! You also get a leave for today! Have fun!"

You nod your head, "I will! Thanks so much, again!" Your fingers clutch the paper envelope as you exit, jumping in excitement, "Oh my god!"  You first sat down in the hallways and rubbed your palms, trying to calm down. "I need to tell it to somebody!" You immediately scroll through your contacts, Jungkook at the very end. Right above your dad and mom.

You breathed heavily, thumb over your dad's number, tears filling your eyes. You sigh, calling Jungkook instead. Picking your bag up you started to walk down the empty hallways, heels echoing, phone over your ear as it rang a few times. He picks up nonetheless, "Hey..." he groggily let out, and you chuckled. "Still sleeping?"

He hums, your belly twists as you clear your throat. "What is it? Do you need more money?" You rolled your eyes, "I got promoted. Thought if you'd like to have a dinner treat tonight." He goes silent for a moment, shuddering noises. "You got what?!" His voice is a bit more clear now, "Promoted! I will fight cases in court now!" "Woah!"

You smile, "really?!" You nod, as if he could see you. "Yes." "I deserve a treat!" You softly laugh, "Okay. Yesterday I had work. Tonight?" He hums, "Okay." He cleared his throat, as if a bit awkward. "At my place?" You both say, standing silent for a second, "No, mine. Since it's my treat." You offered as he sighed, "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am. Obviously." He cleared his throat, "Oh. Okay. I'll come, you better have some great feasts." You chuckled, "I will. I guarantee."

You kindly push back your hair in a bun and place a claw clip over it. Take a few strands out to frame your face. Patting a bit of power on your oily forehead and nose, applying a thin layer of lip gloss and spraying mist. You clear your throat and check if you look casual and put together, "should I just..." You open your wardrobe and check a shirt over your comfy pyjamas.

"No no..." you dig through, "the striped one!" You say and check it one more time and then it hits you in the head like some asteroid from space. "Why am I suddenly caring about how am I perceived by him?" You say to yourself in the mirror, still holding the shirt. "No wait, genuinely. How the hell did we end up like this? Like I fucking kissed him last night?! Ew!"

You talk in the mirror, "Maybe because he looked cute...? No but he looks cute all the time—" you stop. Pressing your lips against each other. "So." You cleared your throat. Peeking from the curtains to look at his closed windows, "he stopped playing guitar, he asked me out on a date, he made me work as his girlfriend in front of his grandma, and gave me money." You sighed, "Is he in love with me?"

Jungkook bites his lower lip, stomach stirring once again as he gently presses the bell over your door. It was so filled with hesitation that the bell didn't even ring. He sighed, pressing harshly as it dinged. Then again, and again. Nobody opened it, he felt like an idiot. Pressing your doorbell again and again only for you to not open the door.

He scoffed, heart shattering. "She played this game to embarrass me?" He clenched his fists, trying to not blow it up on your door. It's been thirty minutes since he's knocking, he sighed. Inhaling and turning his feet back, gulping the anger in. Harshly opening his door and throwing his jacket away, sprinting in anger toward his bedroom to sleep. As soon as he dropped his body on the mattress, he clenched his jaw.

"How dare she?" He gulped, pressing his eyelids shut. Tears formed, he hasn't expected you to be this bitchy, he fumed. Trying to clear his mind off of you. A faint noise of something hitting the glass window echoes in the back of his mind, he ignores it. Turning his body away from his stupid fucking window.

Then it shattered, the window shattered. He slightly frowned, getting up from his bed and opening the curtains. Your window was shattered as he frowned, lips slowly parting. He opens his windows, and your yelps echo. His heart dropped in his stomach as he ran downstairs to your door. Banging it this time, "Y/n open the door!"

He yells to no avail, finally using his strength to push through the wooden door. He grunts, and the door still stands intact. He bangs it again and again, the skin of his palm scratched against the sharp part of your doorframe, bleeding instantly. "Y/n!" He yelled, pushing his shoulder one more time as it jiggled and he harshly pulled away The door. Sprinting towards your bedroom he pushed the door once again to see the terrorising sight of you tied up in the corner of your room.

A man in black clothes jumped out your windows as Jungkook hurried to catch him, though he ran away, thankfully jungkook still clicked the pictures of his covered face. He quickly came to you, tears streaming down with hands and legs tied, mouth sealed with tape as he shuddered. Taking off the tape and opening your body, you sobbed.

"Are you okay?" He asks, looking at your sobbing face as you hiccup and burst into tears. He quietly gasps, trying to calm you down. Wiping your tears as you clutched his clothes. He pulls you in his chest instead, "It's okay, I'm here now." He whispers though he might not be okay either.

You bury your head in his chest, "he-he..." he gently pats your head, "he tried to kill me!" You sob as he gulped, "I'll get him. You're safe now." He whispers, kissing your head, your claw clip broken on your floor, a plant broken of what shattered your window. You sniff as he wipes your tears, "You want to stay at my place, tonight?"

You try to think straight for a moment, "I'm so scared of him." You muttered mindlessly, "It's not safe in here, come with me?" You inhale some air and slowly nod your head, "I-i...I don't wanna stay here." You hug him again, breaking down in tears furthermore.

To be continued….

Taglist: @luv—youu @oopscoop @kooreo @libra04 @skzthinker @ggukieasy @httpjeonlicious @jkmaeden @lovingkoalaface @namjoonsbuspass @roseeily @2hightocare @crabby-libra @minyoongi7016 @subgoogie @rutukn @7exs @craftymoonchaos @looneybleus @shrek-the-destroyer @kp0pficdump @somehowukook @nerdycheol

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[joyoushyuck]

21:06

Donghyuck falls beside you on the bed, breath heavy and chest heaving as he comes down from his high. The air feels cold on the cum drying between your thighs and on your stomach. It feels sticky and uncomfortable, mixing with the sheen of sweat formed from the exertion coating you, but you cannot care less at the moment. You are trying hard not to let your heavy lids shut.

"Go to sleep," Donghyuck whispers, gaze soft when he glances at you. He brings a hand to brush back your hair, placing the softest of kisses on your hairline.

"Shouldn't," you stifle a yawn while saying it, earning a chuckle from the other.

"Why not?"

"You know why."

He does. This friends with benefits arrangement is working well so far only because of the rules. Not sleeping over after sex is one of them. No romantic gestures (like brushing your hair back and looking at you like you hung the moon in the sky) is another. Donghyuck seemed to be neglecting the rules a lot lately.

You don't notice his smile dropping.

"Rules are meant to be broken."

You sigh, too tired to start an argument with him. You push yourself up to get dressed, thighs sore and aching with every move. A hiss escapes your lips and you almost fall when you try to walk, lest the hand that holds your waist and steadies you.

"Sit down, babe," he coaxes you into giving in with wide eyes and a pretty pout.

You think rule 7 prohibited the use of nicknames, but you weren't so sure anymore.

Donghyuck cleans your body with a wet cloth and changes the sheets, lending you a shirt before helping you get comfortable under the sheets. You comply throughout it rather unwillingly. His caring actions, sweet words, they aren't doing your weak, weak heart any good. You are scared to fall deeper, already positive your feelings towards him isn't a surface level crush anymore.

"Go to sleep, love," he repeats. His chest is pressed against your back and a firm hand on your waist holds you in place.

Love. He calls you that sometimes. It's by far your favourite nickname, therefore also the one you resent the most. Hearing it makes you want to scream into a pillow and kick your feet, and also commit a homicide, all at the same time.

"Donghyuck, where are you going with this?" you try one last time.

You feel his heart begin to pick up pace, breath hitching and hold loosening with uncertainty.

"What are you talking about?" And there's the slightest tremor in his voice. He is scared. Why is he scared?

"This. What we are doing right now. This is wrong," it comes out harsher than you meant for it to be. It's your brain's last ditch attempt to protect your fragile heart, you presume.

"It's not wrong. It can be right. I want it to be right," he hesitantly replies. You think his heart is going to burst from how fast it is beating. It is concerning.

"You want it to be right?" There's hope, and then there's fear. You hold your breath in anticipation.

"I want us to be more, want you to be mine, want to be yours."

#lee donghyuck #lee haechan #haechan x reader #haechan #donghyuck x reader #nct donghyuck #drabbles #nct drabbles #nct dream #nct 127 #nct #fwb to lovers #fwb #fluff #timestamp #nct au #syerah fics #haechan oneshot #nct oneshot #oneshot

[hier--soir]

whole new can of worms

joel miller x f!reader

rating: explicit, 18+ mdni summary: two friends decide to blow off a little steam together. warnings/tags: [18+ minors DNI] fwb!joel, famous HOG joel miller lmao, age gap [20 years], language, alcohol consumption, established friendship, guitar playing joel!!, oral [f and m recieving], p in v sex, starts slow and careful and ends up rough oops. word count: 6.9k (nice) series masterlist | masterlist a/n: okay LOOK. i’m working on a final part to this little impromptu series, but I got very side-tracked with the idea of a prequel and then the most smut I’ve ever written just fucking spilled out of me. this is the first time they had sex, ladies and gentlemen. you get the beginning before you get the end. enjoy. also, this moment from tlou pt 2 game is what i was picturing for the beginning when joel is playing the song. dont watch if you don't want to, its from a cut scene very late in the second game. zero spoilers, just joel miller strumming that damn guitar in a way i'll never forget. this is part one of my fwb!joel series. you can find the other parts here: two, three, four.

“Play that one I like.”

Joel offered no verbal response, but sat up straighter in his chair, fingers adjusting along the fretboard of his guitar. You relaxed into your seat, closing your eyes and taking a long sip from your glass of amber liquor.

He began playing and you smiled happily, goosebumps breaking out across your skin as the familiar tune filled the air between you and your friend, melding with the sound of rain softly pattering against the roof of his veranda. You kicked your feet up onto the table between you, the tense muscles in your legs aching from the stretch.

“Get your feet off the table,” Joel muttered, fingers never ceasing on the instrument. “Animal.”

Your eyes stayed closed, but you stuck your tongue out in his direction, smirking a little and keeping your feet up, knowing he didn’t really mind.   

Both of you had endured a long fucking day.

Winter was fading into Spring, and the trees and plants in Jackson were slowly but surely beginning to bloom again. It meant you were spending more hours in the green house than out on patrol, and you weren’t complaining. Tending to the garden relaxed you, connected you to nature and to one of the food sources in the commune that helped put a little bit of food on everyone’s plate each week. Working there made you feel connected to the town, and you loved it, truly. Except, for when a thunderstorm happened.

They’d scared you for as long as you could remember. Since you were a kid, thunder and lightning had made you want to crawl under the covers on your bed and hide away until the loud noises disappeared. But as a full-grown woman, you weren’t afforded such luxuries. Rain, hail or shine, the people in Jackson depended on each other, and you couldn’t duck out of a shift because of a silly little phobia.

When the rain started pouring down on the glass roof of the greenhouse you hadn’t been surprised. Only a few weeks into springtime, the town was still shaking off the remnants of a bitterly cold winter, and a little rain was still common. It was only when the first crack of thunder sounded that you’d stilled, hands frozen gripping a heavy pot, an unwelcome shiver racing down your spine. You’d had to work for hours, the sound of rain pelting against the roof accompanying you, with flashes of lightning appearing out of the corner of your eye all day.

When all was said and done, you’d trudged through the downpour to Joel’s house and arrived on his doorstep looking like a drowned rat, only to find out that he’d spent his afternoon stuck outside on patrol, in the very weather you were so upset about.

He’d opened the door with damp hair, bundled in warm clothes, the tip of his nose a light shade of pink from the cold.

“Whiskey?” he’d asked.

You nodded. “Whiskey.”

And so the pair of you had ended up on his porch, under cover from the residual spit of rain, forgetting all about the shit day through good company and good alcohol.

As Joel strummed the last few chords of the song you sighed glumly, cracking an eye open to watch him. He set the guitar down gently and reached for his glass.

“So beautiful,” you murmured. “Wish I could play.”

“And then what use would I be?” he chuckled. “Can’t have you learning guitar; I’d have no one to play for anymore.”

You watched him closely. Staring into his glass, you could see him mulling the words over in his head. Ellie had hardly spoken a word to him in weeks, and you could see the toll it was taking, although you never pried. Clearly, something had happened, and although you and Joel were close, you hadn’t wanted to insert yourself into whatever drama had consumed his little found family. It made your chest hurt though, to watch him miss that girl. He’d always loved playing for her.

“Good thing I’m lazy then,” you mused softly. “Swear I couldn’t play an instrument with a gun to my head. I’ll need to keep you around.”

“Works for me,” he said, refilling both your glasses. “You on the patrol roster tomorrow?”

You shook your head, accepting the glass with a grateful smile. A slight buzz warmed your insides, fighting to keep your body temperature up as the cool breeze licked at your exposed hands and face. “Nope, I’m a free agent tomorrow, no responsibilities.”

“God damn,” he rolled his eyes. “Gonna be stuck out there all alone with Tommy.”

“Devastating,” you grinned. “I’m way better company.”

“Too right,” Joel agreed. “What’s your plan for the day, little miss no responsibilities? Still reading that book I found you?”

Probably masturbate. The thought zipped through your mind so suddenly that you felt your chest warm, and you cleared your throat softly.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Probably just read for a while. Dinner at Maria and Tommy's, remember?”

You hoped he didn’t see through the lie, because the truth was that you were embarrassed by yourself. Only a few days before you’d been struck by the realisation that you hadn’t had sex, or even been touched intimately by another person, in months. In fact, you noted sullenly, it had been half a fucking year. And you were struggling. It was your longest dry spell in a while, and every night lately you’d found yourself tangled up in your bed with your hand in your underwear, wishing desperately that someone, anyone, else was there with you.

Trying to ward off the unsavoury thoughts filling your mind, you took a deep gulp of whiskey and shut your eyes, contemplating asking if he had any cigarettes laying around.

Suddenly, a deep groan pierced the air between you and your eyes shot open. What the fuck?

With wide eyes, you saw that Joel was gripping his right leg tightly, thumb rubbing deep circles into the skin above his knee cap, and you forced yourself to relax. A sound of pain, you realised. But your heart had stuttered in your chest, because as out of character as it would’ve been, with your eyes closed it had sounded like a vaguely sexual noise. You rolled your eyes, willing yourself to get a grip. But it had been so long, and the sound of a man groaning in any way was enough to light a fire in your stomach.

“It’s the cold,” he noticed your stare. “Makes my knee ache.”

You nodded knowingly, eyes watching as his large hand gripped his thigh, applying pressure to the tender area.

“What’s up your ass?” Joel asked.

“Huh?” your gaze flashed up to meet his and found him watching you closely, eyebrows furrowed.

“You’re frownin’,” he said. “Gone all quiet suddenly.”

“So are you,” you huffed defensively, face warming. “You always fucking frown, I can’t do it one time?”

“No,” he grinned cheekily, stilling rubbing his knee. “I frown enough for the both of us. You can figure somethin’ else out.”  

You let out a begrudging chuckle and felt the indent between your eyebrows relax.

“Seriously,” he pushed. “What’s wrong? Is it too cold? We should move inside.”

“No,” you cringed, scratching the side of your neck awkwardly. Lowering your legs off the table you sat up a little straighter in your chair. “It’s good out here, I like it. I’m just… distracted, I don’t know.”

“What’s on your mind?” he sipped his whiskey.

Without needing any more prompting, you gave up on beating around the bush. “When’s the last time you had sex?”

A choked sound escaped him, and he swallowed quickly, coughing into his elbow. “Christ, what?”

“I’m not,” your cheeks were on fire. “I’m not thinking about you having sex, relax. I was thinking about me having sex. Or not having sex, to be more precise.”

He coughed again, an awkward expression flashing across his face.

You and Joel had been friends for a few years now, since he and Ellie returned to Jackson and decided to settle in the commune. After being friends with Tommy for a few years before that, you’d fallen into a natural friendship with his older brother. It was no secret that there was 20 odd year age difference between you and Joel, but in a post-apocalyptic world, it had never phased either of you. Friends were friends, and an age gap didn’t impact much. But sex was a topic that had seldom come up in conversation over those few years. Here and there maybe, but never in detail, and never so candidly.

“I almost walked in on Shae and Petra fucking the other day,” you continued plainly. “She was late for patrol, so I went over to see if she’d slept in, and I could hear them from outside the fucking house. Stood there like an ass for a minute, just listening like a creep.”

Joel watched you closely, and you noticed his hand gripped his glass a little tighter, fingertips white from the pressure “You… listened?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” you cringed, rubbing a hand over your face shamefully. “Just for a fucking second. Hadn’t realised how long it had been, and it was like my feet wouldn’t move.”

“I see.”

“You better not tell a soul about this,” you pointed at him threateningly. “I’ll end you if anybody finds out, Miller. I swear.”

“I believe you,” he snorted, holding his hands up in surrender. “My lips are sealed.”

You relaxed a little, relieved to discover that he wasn’t going to be as awkward about it as you’d first feared.

“How long has it been?”

Your eyes ticked up to stare at him again. “Like, six months or something.”

Joel let out a low whistle and nodded slowly, sipping from the crystal tumbler in his hand. “You poor soul.”

“Oh, come off it,” you scoffed in disbelief. “Don’t tell me you’re having sex and I’m not? This just keeps getting worse.”

“Fuck you,” he drawled mockingly, that deep Texan accent making you grin. “Would it be such a surprise if I was?”

“S’just bullshit,” you glowered, picking at your nails in frustration. Traces of soil still lined the creases in your palms and you rubbed at it furiously, in a fruitless attempt at cleaning them.  

“I’m not,” is all he said, and you frowned at him in confusion. “Havin’ sex,” he added with a smirk. "And it's been longer for me, so quit your whinin'."

You raised your eyebrows, appreciating the honesty. “Well thank god I’m not the only one.”

“Don’t know when I would,” he shrugged simply. “And who would I be having sex with, anyways? Spend all my fuckin’ time on patrol listening to Tommy talk for hours, or I’m sleepin’, or I’m with you.”

The thought itched so suddenly at the back of your brain, and you fought against it, shaking your head ever so slightly to push it away. Don’t think that. But it was persistent, and after a few moments of silence, your mind was filled with thoughts of you and Joel Miller fucking.

Admittedly, it was something you’d thought about once or twice when you’d first met him. He was a handsome guy, and his arrival in Jackson had definitely caused a stir among the women in the commune. But you’d fallen into a friendship so quickly, so comfortably, that the thought had never reared its ugly head again. Until now.

You watched him for a moment. His hair was dry at that point, and short messy curls framed his face and neck. He had neat dark facial hair, with sweet specks of ashy grey mixed in here and there. That familiar scar on the bridge of his nose. Lips that had gone a darker shade of pink from the cold, that you’d never realised looked quite so… plush. Eyes trailing down, your gaze raked over his hands. Long, calloused fingers that wrapped around almost the entirety of his glass. the warmth in your stomach spread downward, and you knew you should feel embarrassed at where your brain was taking you, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Images flashed through your mind of his hands gripping you like that. Fingers leaving marks on your thighs, on your neck. You shivered, looking away quickly.

“Fuck,” you sighed quietly, not even caring if he heard.

“Hey,” he said softly, assuming you were upset. “Someone’ll come along. We could talk to Tommy about setting you up or somethin’.”

You hummed noncommittally and turned in your chair to face him head on. Joel noticed and adjusted his position to do the same, raising an eyebrow. “What’s that look?” he asked, eyebrows pinching together.

Jesus, here goes nothing.

“What if we fucked?”

Joel stared. His jaw clenched almost imperceptibly, and he put his glass down on the table with a soft clink.

“What?” he said lowly, his voice taking on a sudden gravelly quality.

“I mean,” you searched desperately for the words to explain yourself, licking your lips nervously. “You said it yourself, we’re so busy, right? Always working, or sleeping, or we’re hanging out, you and me. So, what if we just… blew off a little steam together?”

His eyebrows had raised so dramatically you thought they might disappear into his hairline. It wasn’t often you managed to shock Joel, and you laughed gently at the astounded expression that decorated his face.  

“You want to blow off steam… with me?” he pointed lamely at his chest.

“Don’t sound so incredulous,” you joked. “You’re a catch, Joel. You know the teens call you a HOG, right? Hot old guy.“

“Shut up,” he held up a hand to silence you, his eyes squeezing shut tightly as you laughed at his embarrassment. “Don’t want to hear that shit.”

“It wouldn’t mean anything, Joel,” you reassured, veering back on topic. “We could just… help each other wind down after a long day.”

You watched each other in silence for a moment, and you noticed him shuffle slightly in his seat, hand gripping his knee once again. For a minute, you worried that you’d upset him. The friendship you two shared was strong, and you always known you could confide almost anything in him. He was trustworthy, and valued your word above so many others. But maybe this was over the line.

As you were about to speak again, about to take it all back and apologise for even suggesting it, he finally opened his mouth.

“It wouldn’t mean anything?” he clarified. “This won’t affect our friendship.”

You shook your head quickly. “Nothing at all. No strings, bud. Final offer.”

With a deep, rumbling sigh, Joel snatched his glass off the table and downed the remainder of its contents before standing up. “Alright then.”   

You’d been in Joel’s room a hundred times over the years. Hauling him out of bed for patrol after he’d accidentally slept in, or rifling through his chest of drawers to steal a thick pair of socks. But never for this reason. The pair of you stood awkwardly at the foot of his bed, staring at everything other than each other, as the air crackled with palpable tension.

Joel scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, and you smirked, unfamiliar with seeing him being unsure of himself.

“If you don’t want to, we can just forget I ever sai-“

“Just taking your fuckin’ clothes off,” he grunted, staring you down suddenly. Wide eyed, you felt a rush of heat through your thighs.

“Jesus,” you breathed. “Romance isn’t dead.”

He huffed out a laugh and your shoulders relaxed, happy to see a crack through his tense façade. Your tugged off your sweater, and then your shirt, tossing them over the chair in the corner of his room. Working quickly, you undid the zipper on your pants and pulled them down your legs until you were left in your underwear, a thin white singlet, and your socks.

You reminded yourself that Joel had already seen you naked, thinking back on a time when the two of you had gone skinny dipping in a lake you stumbled across on patrol the summer before. But this was so different. This wasn’t a random moment of spontaneity. And at the lake he'd been a gentleman, averting his eyes for the most part out of politeness, but now? Now he was watching your every move.

Silently, he undid the strap off his watch and placed it on the top of his dresser, before working to undo the buttons on his shirt. After he had tugged it off, you let your eyes trail over his exposed skin, and with no fabric covering him, you could see how quickly his chest rose and fell.

“Hey,” you said quietly, stepping forward and placing a hand on his chest. You felt his heart race under the warm skin and smiled. “It’s just me. Let me help you relax, okay?”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips quickly, and you wondered what it would be like to kiss him. You didn’t dwell on it though, and leaned forward to drag your lips across the skin of his neck. He smelt like rain and pine needles, and you inhaled deeply, pressing soft kisses along his pulse point. One of his hands landed heavily on your waist and his thumb begun rubbing encouraging circles over your hip bone. You hummed against his skin, pressing your chest against his. Exposed to the cool temperature, your nipples pebbled underneath your shirt, and from his exhale you knew he could feel them pressing against his bare chest.

With a slight tremor in your hand, you trailed your fingers down his chest. Through the soft hair smattered there, over the thick jagged scar on his stomach, to his belt buckle. Joel shivered lightly, gripping your waist a little tighter. You worked quickly to undo his belt, and then you dragged his zipper down. With a low sigh, you rested your hand over the front of his pants. He jolted slightly, hand sliding around your back to hold you tighter to his chest. With your face hidden in his neck, you couldn’t see his reaction, but you took the firm pressure of his hand on your back as a clear sign to continue. You palmed him gently through his pants, listening to the little puffs of air that rushed out of his nose as he kept his breathing calm. A surge of confidence rushed through you, and you stepped away, letting your hand fall away from him. His arm dropped from your back to his side, and he watched with bated breath as you lowered yourself onto your knees in front of him.

You gripped the waistband of his pants and started to drag them down his legs, helping him step out of them. Wearing nothing but a tight pair of briefs, it was impossible not to stare. You could see the shape of him through the dark fabric, your mouth salivated. More, you needed to see more. Without wasting a second, you tucked your fingers into the band of them and pulled them down slowly, giving him the chance to stop you if he wanted to. But he didn’t. He watched you with hooded dark eyes, chest moving with deep controlled breaths, his bottom lip tucked into his mouth. With his underwear gone, Joel’s cock finally came into your sight. He was only half hard, you realised with awe, and your stomach tingled as you realised what you were in for. Reaching out, your traced your fingers slowly over his hip bones, smiling as goosebumps broke out across his skin, before gently wrapping your fingers around him.

A shaky breath escaped from his nose.

“Is this okay?” you asked quietly, hand stroking softly along his length. He nodded jerkily. “Why don’t you sit on the bed?”

Joel dropped heavily onto the edge of his bed, and you moved forward to rest on your knees in between his parted legs, placing your hand back over him. The air in the room had turned humid, and you could feel sweat forming on your back out of anticipation. The only light source came from the moon shining in his window, bathing the both of you in a pale light.

“You’re so handsome,” you sighed wistfully, gripping him tighter. “I’ve always known it, but seeing you like this is different. So handsome, Joel.”

He reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder, gripping your skin and massaging the knotted muscle at the top of your back. You groaned appreciatively, and without another moment’s hesitation, you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his thigh. No more fucking around. You needed him.

Your hand stroked him firmer, tighter, but your mouth was salivating, desperate to taste him. So you dragged wet kisses along his leg until you reached his abdomen, and then you brought your wet mouth to hover over his cock. You heard his breath hitch and smiled devilishly, staring greedily at his ruddy tip, marvelling as a drop of precum leaked out of him. Painfully slow, you pushed forward and pressed a kiss to it, tongue darting out to swipe along him and taste his salt. Joel hissed in surprise, gripping your shoulder tighter as his other hand moved to the back of your head. Not putting any pressure there, just holding you. Lathing your tongue over his head, you moaned lowly at the taste of him. Salty and warm and masculine. You could feel your underwear sticking uncomfortably against you from how wet you were. Closing your eyes, you cupped his balls gently and pressed wet kisses down his length, dragging your tongue over the pulsing vein that ran from base to tip, and basking in the short gasps that flew out of his mouth.

“Stop teasin’,” he grumbled, and you looked up with a smirk to see his dark eyes glaring down at you.

“Sorry,” you lied, before taking his head into your warm mouth and sucking gently. Slowly, you pressed forward, taking more of him in. You felt him swell against your tongue, getting harder from the stimulation, and you hummed around him. He was so big. Maybe bigger than anyone you’d been with, and you struggled to take it all. He was so thick and heavy in your mouth, it was all you could think about. Consuming every thought, every feeling; all you could focus on was the weight of him on your tongue. You worked on creating a rhythm, bobbing your head and taking as much of him in your mouth as you could, while your hand gripped him at the base, stroking him at the same time.

And finally, finally, he made a sound.

“Fuuuck,” he groaned, drawing out the vowel as a heavy breath he’d been holding escaped his lungs. His fingers dragged through your hair roughly, gripping the back of your head. You pushed yourself forward, taking more of him in until he was pressing into your throat, and you swallowed tightly around him. “Christ, feels so fuckin’ good.”

Seemingly against his will, Joel’s hips bucked upward off the bed and you gagged around him, tears springing into your eyes. He moaned lowly, cursing under his breath at the feeling of your throat contracting around him. Unable to help yourself, you removed your hand from him and lowered it down your body, slipping your fingers underneath the band of your underwear and dipping into the wet heat between your own legs. Breathing harshly through your nose, you moaned around him as your finger brushed your aching clit. You pulled back and worked your tongue over his weeping slit, enjoying the way his grip on your hair tightened as you paid close attention to the most sensitive part of him.

“You’re drivin’ me insane,” he ground out, and you glanced up to see him watching you reverently, eyes wide and glossy, cheeks flushed. “So fuckin’ hot. God, you have the prettiest mouth, how did I never notice that? Never fuckin’ thought about how good my cock would look between your lips until it was happening. I’m a fuckin’ idiot.”

Your cunt pulsed against your fingers and you whimpered, taking him back in your mouth as far as you could. God, the way he spoke made you fucking ache for him. after so many years of knowing him, hearing his voice every day, you’d never have imagined him saying things like that to you. But the weight of him in your mouth was delicious, and his words only spurred you to push forward, forward, forward, revelling in the way he groaned as your nose brushed the dark curls at his base. Tears leaked out of your eyes, rolling down your cheeks from the effort, but you didn’t stop. You slid a finger inside yourself and gagged around him again, eyes rolling back in your head at the intoxicating sensation of having something inside both your mouth and your pussy.

“Takin’ me so well,” his thumb brushed across your cheek, wiping away the tears. “God, I’m in your fuckin’ throat, baby.” The pet name made your stomach tighten, and you moaned as more slick formed around your fingers.  

“Shit,” he choked out suddenly, losing all composure. “Are you fucki-“

You moaned, eyebrows furrowing as you fucked your hand and bobbed your mouth up and down quicker over his length.

“Stop,” he ordered, saying your name firmly. “I- Stop, I’m gonna come.” You ignored him, making a high-pitched sound around him as you felt the hot coil in your stomach begin to tighten. His hand gripped your hair tighter, and he pulled you off him.

You blinked lazily up at him, eyebrows furrowed dejectedly, lips parted. A string of saliva hung in the air between your bottom lip and his tip. You dragged your fingers out of your underwear, chest heaving with heavy breaths.

“Jesus, don’t fuckin’ look at me like that,” he groaned and broke eye contact, gripping your shoulder to pull you up off the floor. “Get up.”

Pushing gently on your shoulders, he nudged you forward onto the bed, and you crawled up before collapsing with your heads against the pillows. His bed was softer than you’d anticipated, and everything smelt like him. The pillows, the duvet. God, even if this was a one-time thing, you’d never forget that smell. He followed you, settling with his legs in between yours, and placed his palms on your stomach, pushing the thin material of your shirt up and over your breasts until it was bunched around your collarbones. Your heart pounded heavily in your chest, and you were aching for him, begging him with your eyes to just please, do something, anything.

And Joel was on you before you could speak, his fingers tracing and over your nipples, squeezing the weight of your breast in his palm before latching his lips onto you. He sucked your painfully tight nipple into his mouth, tongue lazily swiping across it, driving you insane. You sighed heavily, running a hand over the skin of his back and holding him to you. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin ever so lightly and your back arched off the bed. Moving over, he shifted his ministrations to your other breast, his eyes closed as he wet your skin with his slick mouth. And then one of his hands was drifting down your stomach, tickling over your skin, under it met your underwear, and he was cupping you through the fabric. Your hips stuttered upward, and he groaned into your chest, trailing his fingers over the soaked material.

“So fuckin’ wet already,” he muttered into your skin, and you nodded franticly against the pillows. “Did you get this turned on just from havin’ my cock in your mouth? Had to touch yourself?” Surprise zapped through you once more, ecstatic to learn just how much he loved to talk during sex. It was one of your favourite things, and it had always killed you to have sex with someone who was just silent the whole time.

“Yes,” you breathed. “Wanted you to finish in my mouth.”

He bit down onto your chest in response and you cried out quietly, eyes rolling back as he sucked a mark onto your skin with his fingers continued tracing feather light over your covered core.

“Maybe later,” his voice was strained. “Need to see you come first.”

He pulled the fabric of your underwear to the side, and then he was touching you with no barrier, and you trembled beneath him. You’d forgotten how good it felt to have someone else’s hands on you.

Joel groaned as he dipped his middle finger between your warm folds, gliding it up and down along your core, getting it covered in your slick. He swirled the tip of his finger around your entrance and you whimpered, hips grinding desperately against his hand. But he didn’t go inside you. His finger moved back up, all the way up, and swiped gently over your clit and you let out a pathetic moan. Such a small, miniscule touch had your stomach tensing painfully, ridiculously close to orgasm after so much time.

Bringing his face up to rest beside yours, he sucked your earlobe into his mouth gently, before murmuring in your ear, “I want to taste you.”

You didn’t say anything, too stunned by the feeling of his fingers against you, until he probed you for a response, purring your name into your ear.

“Need to hear you say it,” he encouraged. “Tell me what you want.”

“Please,” you begged, eyes shut tightly as he rubbed soft circles around your bundle of nerves. “I want you to taste me.” A grunt of frustration left your mouth as his hand disappeared and you opened your eyes to glare at him, but your mouth fell open, awestruck, when you saw him raise his soaked digits to his lips.

“Like this?” he goaded, sucking your slick off himself and groaning.

“Please,” you repeated, mouth dry as you watched him hum around his middle finger. “Need your mouth on me, your tongue, I-“

“Okay,” he soothed, moving down the bed in an instant. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”

He spread your legs apart, fingers splayed as he held your thighs against the bed, displaying your weeping centre for him to see. A deep sound echoed though the room, and it took you a moment to realise it had been Joel. His dark eyes stared at the spot between your legs, and he dragged his fingers through the coarse hair that covered you.

His movements were torturously slow as he leaned down, pressing sloppy kisses on your hips, along the inside of your thighs, until finally his hot breaths were fanning across your core. You clenched around nothing, whimpering at how empty you felt but knowing it would have to wait.

It was like stepping into a warm bath. The second his tongue was on you, fire raced through your veins, warming your body from head to toe. A sound of relief slipped from your lips, and your eyes rolled back as he licked a broad stripe up the entire length of you. A raspy groan vibrated against you as he pressed a messy kiss against your pussy. You looked down and gasped at the sight of his eyes already on you, watching you and your reactions to him.

“Taste so fuckin’ good,” he drawled against you and you twitched at the sensation of his lips brushing against your clit. His thumbs pressed against your folds, holding you open for him to see everything, and he lathed his warm tongue against your clit, circling it until you were moaning and tensing your thighs against his hold, muscles screaming at you to press against his head and hold him to you.

You whispered his name over and over as if it were a prayer. As if you’d forgotten all other words in the English language and his name was your only salvation. His tongue dipped inside your entrance, prodding firmly until you whimpered and begged him to please, please, let you come.

He ate you out like a man possessed. Like you were his last meal and he intended to savour every god damn second of the experience. He was ravenous, lips and tongue working together to make every muscle in your body tighten until you were gasping. At some point your hand had drifted behind his head and you found yourself tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling it tightly as his mouth moved against you.

“Joel,” you groaned. He hummed against you, movements never ceasing. “Oh fuck, Joel, I’m gonna come.”

His eager moan into your cunt was all it took for you to be catapulted over the precipice and drop into your orgasm. Your body was on fire, vibrating against him as you trembled through it, moans and cries leaving your mouth as your way of thanking him. His hands held your thighs in a vice grip, and there would no doubt be marks there tomorrow to remind you were his fingertips had dug into your skin. As your body relaxed into the mattress again, he pressed a final kiss to your clit before pulling back and dragging his face across your thigh, wiping the remnants of your slick off his facial hair.

“Fuck,” he rasped, grinning up at you with glistening lips.

“So good,” you agreed, nodding as you tried to catch your breath.  

“Almost came all over the sheets,” he admitted and you laughed, beckoning him towards you. He stumbled a bit, one of his knees buckling below him on the bed, leading him to land awkwardly on top of you.  

“Shit,” he groused. “Sorry, bad fuckin’ knee. You’ve got me all bent out of shape.”

You chuckled lowly, pulling him up to lay beside you on the bed. “Let’s not put anymore pressure of them then, okay?” He watched you carefully, curiously, as you turned on your side and then moved backwards, pressing yourself flush against his chest.

His cock pulsed against your ass, and he wrapped an arm around your waist, hand splayed on your stomach to hold you against him as he rutted forward. The feeling of his wet tip dragging along your skin reignited the fire in you and you whimpered, lifting your leg only to push it back and drape it over his waist as much as you could.

“You want it like this?” he asked urgently, hot breaths fanning across your sweaty neck. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tugging on it gently.

You nodded, and waited as he pushed his body a little lower on the bed. His hand disappeared from your chest, and you allowed yourself to pout a little, only because you knew he couldn’t see your face. And then his left arm slithered underneath your shoulder and wrapped loosely your neck, gripping your opposite arm to pin you against him. His free hand gripped his cock and pushed it forward until he was sliding his head between your folds.

Both of you sighed at the sensation and you gripped his arm in anticipation. You could feel his torso moving against your back as he breathed, the soft hair on his chest tickling your skin.

“You ready?” he asked and you grunted, pushing back against him again.

“Joel,” you said in a dangerously low tone. “If you’ve ever cared about me, you will stop teasing and fuck me right now.”  

He laughed darkly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Yes, ma’am.”

He notched his tip at your entrance and you gasped as he pressed forward, pressing himself inside of you. It took what felt like minutes for him to bottom out, and when you felt his hips pressing against your ass, you tried to relax. The burn was intense, and you cursed yourself for not anticipating a little bit of pain after such a long dry spell. Joel held still, fingers stroking carefully over the skin of your shoulder, understanding that you needed a second.

“Fuck,” you choked out. “Joel, you’re huge.”  

He let out a gravelly sound into the back of your neck, body shuddering against yours. “You’re takin’ it so well though,” he gritted out. “So tight around me, grippin’ me so good.”   

He pulled back a touch before pressing back into you, and you moaned deeply. That was all the confirmation he needed to continue, pulling almost fully out of you before moving into you harder, stronger, and beginning a steady pace. Your body jolted forward with every one of his movements, but his arm around your neck held you firmly, never allowing you to go too far.

Curses drifted from your mouth, and you hid your face in his arm, biting down on the muscle of his bicep to stifle your sounds. You clenched around him suddenly and his hips stuttered forward, slamming into you in a way that made your stomach tense deliciously. He was so fucking deep, the angle allowing him to glide against your g-spot with every thrust.

“Fuckin’,” he moaned. “You’re so good, bein’ so fuckin’ good for me, aren’t you darlin’?”

You writhed in his arms, accepting the brutal pace he’d set. His skin connected with yours over and over, a satisfying smack, smack, smack sound filling the air.

“J-Joel,” you sobbed. “Oh my fucking god, I-“ He cut you off, gripping your chin and swiftly tugging your face upward so he could see you, and then his mouth was crashing down on yours. He groaned into your mouth, tongue pressing against your lips to part them and then tangling against yours. His lips were soft and wet and you didn’t even care about the odd angle your neck was twisted at as you moaned into it. His thrusts didn’t let up for a second, even as you murmured desperate sounds against each other’s lips.  

“C’mon,” he grunted into your mouth. “Give me another one.” His hand dropped to grip your neck, the sensation only heightening the feeling of him inside you. Liquid heat was spreading in your abdomen, curling through your veins, turning your entire body into jelly. His free hand drifted down your stomach and then his middle finger was dragging across your clit, and a harsh cry spilled from your mouth.

“Shit,” you gasped, face contorting as you felt yourself near your end. He was fucking everywhere, holding you against him by your neck, pounding into you while his fingers circled your clit roughly, and the coil in your stomach just snapped. You yelled his name, body tensing up as he pushed into you, wet squelching sounds filling the air as he fucked you through your orgasm.

“Say my name,” his voice urged in your ear, and you happily obliged, chanting his name like a mantra as he worked your body through it. Within a minute he was groaning frantically, and then he pulled out, and you could feel his come coating your back as he finished. You glanced over your shoulder to see him. His mouth was ajar, soft curses falling from his lips as he gripped his cock, angling it towards you as he painted your skin with his spend.

“Sorry,” he rushed out breathlessly, wide eyes meeting yours. His shoulders shook with the intensity of his orgasm, adrenaline pumping through his veins, and you smiled at the sight. But he looked concerned, eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you warily.

“For what?” you frowned softly, rolling forward onto your stomach to free his arm that was trapped underneath you. “What’s wrong?”

“Came on you,” he clarified. “Should’ve asked first.”

A grin split across your face and his eyes lit up when he saw it, face relaxing again. “Ever the gentleman,” you chuckled. “It’s fine Joel, it was hot.”

His body relaxed and he dropped down to rest on his back, looking at you with a soft, curious expression. “It was,” he agreed quietly.

For a moment the pair of you just laid there, gazing at each other in a moment of wonder, before you suddenly became aware of how much colder the room was now that it was over. You shivered slightly, lifting to sit on your knees. Joel’s eyes trailed over your exposed body, gazing at your breasts, and your stomach, before resting on your face again.

“I’m gonna shower, and then hit the road,” you told him, cringing at the prominent ache between your thighs as you stepped off the bed. You picked your clothes up off the chair in the corner and turned back to look at him. “I’ll see you tomorrow night right, dinner at Maria and Tommy’s?”

He was watching you in a daze, eyelids heavy with drowsiness, but he nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he drawled. “Dinner at Maria and Tommy’s.” His eyes suddenly widened and he rolled over, reaching underneath his pillow before revealing a piece of small dark fabric. Your underwear. He held them out in your direction.

“Keep them big guy,” you winked, and he laughed deeply, dropping them back onto the bed.

You padded towards the door, ready to pop into the bathroom and then head home, before a thought struck you. Resting your shoulder against the doorway you looked at him again, smiling at the sight of him lying naked and fucked out on the bed, eyes closed as he breathed deeply. He looked about as relieved as you felt.

“Hey Joel,” you said quietly, and his eyes flashed open, raising an eyebrow at you. “Between us, right? Probably best if we don’t tell anyone else this happened.”

He nodded once, smiling lazily. “Between us.”

part two

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #fwb joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #my writing #cat's outta the bag #don't cry over spilt milk #whole new can of worms

[alwaysmicado]

What you need

2.9k | 18+ NSFW | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | pt. 4

Warnings: no outbreak AU, implied age gap, facesitting, unprotected p in v, creampie, pet names, Joel is the little spoon Summary: Joel is sick and your pussy's the best medicine. A/N: This one’s just cute! 🤍 After the next two parts or so, we’ll start to get into it for real. Fucking around is fun, but it doesn’t last forever, does it…

pt. 1 ・ pt. 2 ・ pt. 3 ・ series masterlist ・ AO3

You: How was the client? Joel: I stayed home, not feeling too well You: You need anything? Joel: Just you ;) You: I’ll be there in 30. Stay in bed! Joel: No no babe, it’s okay Missed Call Missed Call Missed Call Joel: You’re unbelievable

“Oh, come on,” you groan and lift the measuring cup towards Joel’s lips. “Why are you such a stubborn baby, huh? Just drink the fuck-”

You stop yourself when you see him raise an eyebrow, a smug smirk tugging at the corners of his pale lips. He’s sitting in bed, his back supported by pillows, his head leaning against the wooden headboard panel.

Propping Joel up comfortably like this was a struggle in and of itself since this grown, successful man only sleeps with one, worn-out pillow he’s probably had since before you were born, so you also had to get two plumper ones from his couch to provide enough support for his poor back. What is it with him and refusing comfort? 

At least now you know what to get him for his birthday in September…

“Hmm, you love it,” he teases and puts his hand on your waist to pinch you lightly. 

“I would love it if you stopped fighting me and just took the damn NyQuil,” you counter and search his eyes. They’re heavy-lidded and glassy, revealing the exhaustion Joel’s been trying to fight all day.

You sigh and softly brush a strand of sweat-dampened hair from his forehead. He’s running a fever and the cool, damp washcloth you put on his forehead to alleviate at least some of his evident discomfort only did so much. 

At this point, you really just need him to listen to you for once, take the damn medicine and, most importantly, lie down and give his body the rest it so desperately needs.

You look at the collection of bottles on the nightstand next to him and shake your head. Since you didn’t know what his symptoms were before you came, you stopped at a pharmacy on your way over and bought everything : DayQuil, NyQuil, a bottle of cough syrup, peppermint tea, a bunch of pain meds, Epsom salts with eucalyptus and essential oils, fresh produce to make a smoothie - hell, even a thermometer because you weren’t sure if he has one.

The only thing missing is the patient’s cooperation. 

“I appreciate your care, darlin’,” Joel murmurs, reaching for your hand to pepper your palm with soft kisses, “but I really don’t need any of that. I’m just a bit under the weather, that’s all.” 

“You’d rather die than admit you’re sick, huh,” you state with a tilted head and raised eyebrows. 

“Now that’s a bit dramatic, isn’t it,” he murmurs and nibbles on your arm. 

“Says the grown man who gagged from the tiniest sip of green smoothie,” you scoff. 

“Yeah, well, that shit was disgusting,” he chuckles, pulling you closer by your waist so you’re straddling his lap. “C’mere, sweetheart.”

“You have a fever, Joel,” you sigh and cup his cheeks. “I’m worried, okay?” 

“About little old me?” He smiles and squeezes your hips. 

“Yeah,” you lean in to press soft kisses to his cheek. “And I need you to let me help you, so tell me what-”

“Sit on my face.” 

“Huh?” You sit back up and look into his eyes in surprise.  

“Take your slutty little pants off and sit on my face,” he repeats with a cocked eyebrow. 

“How is that-” 

“I’ll take the meds if you do,” he interrupts with a smirk, his eye crinkles giving away his genuine amusement at this genius suggestion.

You sigh deeply and look at the ceiling. How is this guy real? “And a whole smoothie,” you murmur as you get up. 

You push your shorts down together with your panties, let them fall to the floor, then climb back onto the bed to straddle Joel’s lap without the covers separating you this time. He looks at you hungrily, the fever completely forgotten as he sees and feels your naked cunt and thighs.

“Mmm, that’s it, baby,” he groans softly, his big hands on you immediately, gripping your ass and moving you up and down the length of his hardening cock. “Look at the mess you’re already making on me,” he murmurs, turned on by the wetness you’re spreading over his gray sweatpants. 

“You get off on caring for me, hm?” He taunts with a smug grin. 

“Oh, shut up,” you roll your eyes and capture his lips in a bruising kiss. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, as close as he possibly can, kissing you greedily. You writhe and wriggle on his lap, moaning into his mouth, your hands tangled in his hair.

He breaks the kiss to nibble and bite at the soft skin of your neck, leaving marks behind. You’re letting it slide this time, enjoying the tantalizing sensation of slight pain mixed with the soft touch of his lips and facial hair that’s causing your pussy to clench around nothing. 

You’re just going to have to wear a silk scarf or something to work.

“God, I wanna taste you so bad, baby,” Joel moans into the crook of your neck, his eyes closed. You bite your lip and hum as the friction of your movements on Joel’s pants stimulates your clit perfectly.

“You gonna be good if I let you?” You purr into his ear with a roll of your hips, eliciting a soft whimper from him. 

“You come all over my face, angel, and I’ll do whatever you want,” he whispers, his fingers digging into your sides. 

“Alright, baby,” you coo and lift your weight off his lap. “Lie down for me.”

Joel scoots down and lays his head on the pillows, looking at you intently with big eyes. You position yourself over his face, hold on to the bed’s headboard panel and lower your hips carefully. 

“Look so fucking gorgeous,” he mumbles before hooking his arms over your thighs and pulling you further down. His warm breath and facial hair tickle you as he kisses your lips softly, then drags his nose through your wet folds, inhaling your mesmerizing scent and nudging your swollen clit before repeating the movement. 

You throw your head back and moan softly as he slides his tongue between your folds, lapping at your dripping hole and pushing in ever so slightly before circling your clit. Your fingers tangle in his dark curls as the vibrations of his deep groans intensify every movement of his lips and tongue.

“Fuck, you taste divine like always,” Joel breathes as he dips his tongue into your wet heat to lap up as much of you as he can. You look down and clench around his tongue when you see his blown pupils and frenzied look. His mouth moves at a relentless pace, making you squirm and tug on his curls harder. You’re so close already. 

When your moans get louder and Joel feels you grinding your pussy on his face harder to chase your imminent high, he can’t resist biting the marks already adorning your skin. 

“Ow, fuck!” You cry out in surprise at the sudden pain shooting through you. You hadn’t even noticed the purple bruises on your inner thighs when you showered and got dressed today.

Maybe it should concern you that your body hasn’t been without bruises for a few months now. But it doesn’t, if you’re being honest with yourself. You just weren’t planning on showing someone else’s marks off to Joel this time. You really weren’t. 

“Fun night?” Joel asks with a smirk before sucking on your swollen clit hard, keeping you in place with his hands splayed over your ass.

“Can’t complain,” you bite back back, or at least try to, since your voice devolves into a soft whine at Joel’s harsh treatment of your sensitive bundle of nerves. The deliciously painful feeling is almost enough to send you over the edge. 

“Oh fuck, that’s it,” you moan as he starts lapping at your dripping hole again, his nose rubbing against your clit with every stroke. “Feels so good, baby.” 

Joel groans with each lick to your puffy folds and throbbing clit, hooking his arms over your legs again and digging his fingers into your skin. “Please, Joel,” you whine, tugging on his hair harder. 

“Use my face, angel,” he pants breathlessly, completely drunk on your pussy. You’re the sweetest thing he’s ever seen or tasted. “Take what you need from me.” 

He's bucking his hips, trying to get as much friction from his pants as possible, precum leaking out of this cock steadily. 

“I’m– oh fuck –I’m gonna come,” you moan, sliding your drenched pussy over Joel’s tongue and nose frantically. He hums blissfully, holding on to your thighs and watching your face as you arch your back and fall apart with a strangled moan. 

You come on his tongue, your hips stuttering and your whole body trembling from the intense orgasm. Joel groans as he eagerly drinks your cum and slowly licks you clean when he feels you come down again. You yelp and your hips jolt at the overstimulation when he sucks your pulsating clit into his mouth, savoring your taste. 

You lift your hips and look down at him, your chest heaving and a satisfied smile playing on your lips when you see his jaw and facial hair dripping with a mix of his saliva and your cum. He looks gorgeous like this. 

You swing your leg over Joel’s chest and lie down beside him. He turns to face you and gently traces your thigh with his warm hand, still breathing heavily. You scoot closer, so you’re flush with his body and place your bent leg between his. 

“Kiss me, Joel,” you purr as you nudge his wet nose with yours and caress his cheek with your palm. He gives you a smile before leaning in and capturing your swollen lips with his. You part your lips and allow his tongue to slip inside, feeding you your own cum. He grabs your ass to pull you closer against him, your bodies pressed together heatedly, both breathing heavily as you feel the thud of your combined heartbeat. Joel groans into your mouth softly as he rubs his throbbing cock against your hip, his hand traveling along your waist to your belly. You thrust your hips so your pussy rubs against his thigh on the bed, more than ready to come again. 

“So perfect,” Joel murmurs against your lips as he slides his hand under your shirt and palms your breast. He tweaks your hard nipple, eliciting a soft moan from you. He furrows his brow and looks into your eyes intently, his pupils even bigger than before. Every fiber of his fevered body is aching for you, to be close to you, to become one with you, to be yours.

You see something shift in his face, but can’t put your finger on what it is, so you don't say anything. 

“Can I fuck you?” He mumbles into your neck where he’s kissing and biting at you sloppily, his hand still massaging your breast and his cock screaming for release. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You breathe, your need for Joel to be alright still trumping your primal need to get off. You're an animal, not an asshole. 

“I’m more than okay, darlin’,” he reassures you with a tired smile.

“And you’re not gonna die on me halfway through?” 

“Don’t care,” he murmurs and takes your hand to press it against his erection. You rub up and down his length slowly as he slides his hand between your legs. You groan when he circles your sensitive clit a few times before sliding two of his fingers into your warm cunt. He pumps them in and out a few times before adding a third, the heel of his palm putting delicious pressure on your clit. 

“You want me to ride you, baby?” You pant, feeling your second orgasm build already. 

“Can we-,” Joel breathes, his cock throbbing, “can we just stay like this?”

“Of course,” you nod and help him pull down his sweatpants. He pulls his fingers out of you and wets his cock with your slick before removing his pants fully. “C’mere,” you coo as you draw him close to you and drape your leg over his hip. He strokes his length a few times before nudging your entrance with his pulsating tip and sliding in in one smooth thrust. He wraps his arm around you, splaying his hand on your back under your shirt, moaning into your hair when he bottoms out.

“Oh shit, you feel too good, baby,” he groans and holds on to your ass cheek to pull you toward him in unison with his frantic thrusts. “I– fuck –I ain’t gonna last long,” he pants. “You want me to fill you up?”

“Yeah,” you nod with a needy moan, your brow furrowed. Joel’s cock is hitting your g-spot repeatedly, causing the muscles in your thighs and lower belly to tense and your climax to approach rapidly. 

“Tell me, baby,” he breathes, his cock massaging your inner walls with every snap of his hips. 

“I-I want you to come inside me, Joel,” you whine, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Please, please fill me up.” 

He can feel your walls tightening around him and your whole body tensing, so he tilts your head up by gripping the nape of your neck. “Look at me, baby,” he breathes and grinds his pelvis against your clit. It only takes a few more of his thrusts for the tension in your belly to snap with an intensity you’re never able to achieve on your own. Or with anyone else for that matter.

You come with his name on your lips, your walls spasming and contracting around his cock as you ride out your orgasm. Seeing and hearing and feeling you in such a state of ecstasy due to his touch pushes him over the edge, emptying himself deep inside of you with a breathless groan. He stays buried inside you as his cock pulses and your pussy swallows every last drop of his warm cum. 

You stay like that for a minute, limbs intertwined, skin hot and sweaty, breathing heavily, hearts pounding, looking at each other curiously. You slowly trace Joel’s eye crinkles with your fingertips, then gently run your fingers along his perfect nose before moving further down to gently touch the bare spot on his jaw where his facial hair never grows.

“What’re you doing,” he chuckles, drawing shapes on your ass and thigh with his fingertips. 

“Nothing,” you lie with a warm smile. “Just looking at the man who most definitely just gave me all of his germs and will most definitely come and clean my apartment when I’m lying in bed with a fever."

Joel rolls his eyes in mock offense and you giggle. “Told you to stay away when you showed up here,” he murmurs and slaps your ass playfully.     

“Oh, Joel,” you sigh, “you’ve come inside me so many times that our DNA is probably the same at this point.” You kiss his forehead. “I don’t care about a few germs if I get to ride your face and hear your cute little whimpers when you almost come in your pants like a teenager.”

Joel's cheeks flush with a mix of fever and embarrassment as he catches the hint of a grin on your face. “Stop it,” he grumbles, the corner of his lips twitching involuntarily. “You’re mean.” 

“And you’re impossible,” you chuckle, your hand reaching out gently to stroke his forehead and tousled hair in a soothing gesture. His eyelids flutter at your touch and a faint sigh escapes him, a small surrender to the tenderness you’re offering.

— “Thank you, darlin’,” Joel murmurs before setting down the glass on the nightstand and laying his head on the pillow mountain you’ve built for him. “I’m just gonna lie down for a bit.” 

“Alright, baby” you coo, walking over to your bag to retrieve your phone, then sitting on the bed beside him. You play a game for a few minutes, relaxing and monitoring Joel’s rhythmic breathing. He’s lying on his belly, his head turned away from you, his left knee pulled toward his chest. It’s the same exact pose you sleep in. 

In another life you might fall asleep like this together every night, two puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly, completing each other. You smile softly at the thought and reach out to stroke his back. 

“All your fault,” Joel grumbles into the pillows.

“Huh?” You ask, startled and confused. You thought he was fast asleep. 

“Haven’t seen you in over a week,” he mumbles. “Bad for my system.” 

You chuckle and plant a soft kiss on his temple. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “Won’t happen again.”

“Just stay for a while,” he murmurs, his voice a mere whisper. You linger for a few seconds, studying his profile, before lying down behind him. He instinctively turns from his belly onto his side, so you can drape your arm over him.  

“You can sleep now, baby,” you whisper as you nestle against his back, molding your body to his contours, your warm breath ghosting the nape of his neck.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

---

Thank you for reading! 🤍

part 3 || part 5 || series masterlist

#fwb!joel miller x f!reader #fwb!joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal characters #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller AU #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller tlou #joel the last of us #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel miller fluff #the last of us fic #smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal

[moonstruckme]

hi! I loved your fic with reader and sirius in a situationship and he comes over for a hookup and reader is super stressed and he helps. Can you please do another one with that dynamic? Maybe angst where they’re hanging out at a party and Sirius is all over reader but then says they’re just friends? Possibly smut ensues 👀

I love reading you work!!

Thanks for requesting!

cw: smut mdni, p in v, semi-public sex, hurt no comfort

fwb!Sirius x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

“Shh.” Sirius nips at your earlobe, eliciting another half-suppressed mewl from you as he presses you into the wall next to James’ shower. “You want everyone here to know what’s going on? James’ll have a field day.” 

“He’s already gonna know if I walk out all marked up.” 

“S’not my fault, is it?” he hisses, fingertips digging into your ass as his teeth scrape across your pulse point. “Why’d you have to wear this fucking dress, huh?” 

 “No idea what you’re talking about,” you pant, but you’re laughing, tits bouncing almost completely out of the tight bodice as he thrusts into you, the lace lining barely covering your peaked nipples. Sirius’ eyes had gone nearly all black when he’d seen it in your closet. Dollface, when did you get this pretty little thing? You’ve been waiting for the opportunity to undo him with it ever since. 

Part of you wonders if he’d had a similar plan tonight. Sirius is wearing—or, well, he had been wearing—the black jeans you’d helped him thrift last weekend, slung low over his hips and paired with a tank top that shows ample expanses of his inked-up torso and arms. He’d watched as you drank the outfit in, and the pretense of socializing at James’ party hadn’t lasted long before he’d drug you into the bathroom by your elbow. 

Sirius shifts, pushing you harder against the wall as he takes your weight with one hand, freeing the other to paw at your boob. It plops readily out of its confines and into his palm. You moan as his thumb brushes your nipple, ducking your head to smother the sound against his shoulder. 

You start kissing the tattoo there a second before he finds the spot he’s been searching for inside you and your head lolls back. Your hands spread over his shoulders to ensure you don’t topple over, lightheaded and cock-addled. 

“Easy, pretty girl.” Sirius’ tone is smug, his hands coming back to your ass as he hits that spot over and over again. He presses his lips to yours sweetly, swallowing your sounds. “I know you didn’t have that much to drink, try to stay upright for me.” 

Pathetically, it warms your heart to think that he’d been keeping an eye on you. You use what leverage you have against the wall to grind your hips into him. Sirius groans, pounding into you so hard you think you must ascend, your vision all starry and wild as pleasure shoots out from your core, tingling all the way to your fingertips. 

Distantly, you’re aware of Sirius covering your mouth with his again, thrusting into you a few more times before he comes too and bites down on your bottom lip as his grip tightens on you. Your chest hurts. You feel almost like you could cry, which is new. You both stay there for a minute, him relaxing his hold on your ass until it’s a bit kinder and you idly pulling a strand of his hair through your fingers, until Sirius breaks the kiss. His eyes meet yours, the color of heavy clouds, and you have the sense that he’s peeling you like a tangerine. Seeing down to your hidden, squishy bits. 

“You alright?” he asks you. 

You swallow. “Yeah,” you say, pleased to find that your voice holds no trace of the emotion spreading like a blight behind your sternum. “You?” 

Sirius’ lips tilt. “I’m fantastic, dollface.” 

He adjusts his grip on you, letting you get your legs underneath you before lowering you to the floor. Your panties bunch around one shoe, getting slick on your ankle. 

“Ugh,” you sigh, sitting down on the lip of the tub while Sirius takes his condom off. “Can you pass me some toilet paper? I can’t put these back on like this.” 

“Just throw them out.” 

“I can’t, I really like these.” You start to reach for the toilet paper on your own and Sirius finally obliges, passing you a wad. “Thanks.”

He tugs his jeans back up, buttoning them before leaning on the wall to watch you. You keep your focus on your task and not on ogling how his biceps bulge when he crosses his arms like that. “I can just get you another pair,” he says. 

“You don’t need to do that.” 

“Oh, come on.” His tone takes on a familiar quality. You look up, and sure enough, he’s smirking down at you. The expression does things to your stomach you can never let him find out about. “I’m the one who ruined ‘em in the first place, aren’t I? Let me make it up to you.”

You would say it’s been sufficiently made up, but you only shake your head, folding the toilet paper over to a dry part. “I’m not throwing them out. I just need a minute, then I can put them back on.” 

“Suit yourself, darling.” Something in you flutters at the pet name, but then Sirius pushes off the wall. “I’m gonna head out, get back out there so nobody sees us leave together.” 

You keep your gaze downward. “Good idea.” 

You notice him flash you a smile in your periphery. Even without really seeing it, you can guess what it looks like: flirty, impersonal. “See you out there.” 

He opens the door, and you see only a flash of light brown hair before he’s slipping out and shutting it behind him, shielding you from view. 

“Hello,” Remus’ voice says slowly. He must’ve just been passing by, but if the extended occupation of the bathroom hadn’t caught his attention, Sirius’ hasty exit certainly has. “Don’t suppose I need to ask where you’ve been.” 

“That,” you hear Sirius say in his jovial way, “would be terribly nosy, Moony. Unlike you.” 

You creep closer to the door, pressing your ear to the crack in time to hear Remus’ amused hum. “Don’t suppose I need to ask if you know where y/n is either, do I? Mary’s been looking for her.” 

“I’m sure she’ll turn up shortly,” Sirius replies. 

There’s a short period of silence wherein you wonder if they’ve walked away, but then Remus says quietly, “I hope you’re being careful.” 

Sirius laughs, the sound derisive. “Thank you for your concern, but you’ll find a condom in James’ bathroom trash if you’re worried enough to go looking.” 

“Not what I meant. She’s a sweet girl, Sirius. Don’t fuck her about.” 

You can practically hear the lewd joke forming on Sirius’ tongue, but his voice lowers, unexpectedly sober. “I’m not,” he says. You stop breathing. “She’s under no false impressions, alright? We both talked about what this was before we started, and she doesn’t want a relationship any more than I do.” 

Remus’ sigh is long-suffering. “Sure.” 

“Honest, Moons. We’re just friends.” 

Your heart—your stupid, mutinous heart—shrinks and withers like a balloon without air. You move away from the door as quietly as you can, sitting again on the cold lip of James’ tub. Sirius says something about taking charge of the music selection, and you breathe carefully as he and Remus go off. You’re furious with yourself, humiliated for feeling so dejected. Sirius is right; you had been clear about what you wanted when you first started this thing. Boundaries had been laid down. Just because your feelings have changed, that doesn’t mean his have. It was unfair of you to look for more from him. 

Your underwear are a lost cause. You bury them underneath more toilet paper in James’ bin, hiding the condom while you’re at it. You’ll get yourself new ones without telling Sirius. What you do shouldn’t be his problem anyway.

#fwb!sirius #fwb!sirius x reader #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black x self insert #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fic #sirius black smut #sirius black angst #sirius black imagine #sirius black drabble #sirius black blurb #sirius black scenario #sirius black oneshot #sirius black one shot #marauders #the marauders #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #hp marauders #marauders x reader

[worldlxvlys]

the back

nate doe x sturniolo reader

warnings: smutttt, p in v, semi-public sex, overstimulation, oral (fem + male receiving), fingering

a/n: hope you likeee, based off of these texts

ever since chris had found out about mine and nate’s relationship, it seemed as though he was hellbent on spending more time with him.

it was almost as though he assumed that nate would stop hanging out with him as much, and that i was going to steal him away.

what was actually happening, however, was the opposite.

i had barely seen nate at all in the past week, and whenever we tried to spend time together, chris would barge into my room and somehow steal nate away.

so, deciding i was sick of it, i barged into his room.

“what the-” he started, but stopped when he saw me flash the palm of my hand at him, silently telling him that i wasn’t going to listen to him.

“i’m stealing my boyfriend, is that ok with you?” i asked as i walked over to nate, grabbing his hand.

“not really, we were going to-” again, i stopped him from talking, “i don’t care” i spoke before walking out, nate following behind me.

“damn, you could’ve let the man finish” nate spoke, earning a slight glare from me.

“so he gets to finish and i don’t?” i raised my eyebrows at him.

“you’re so quick to make everything dirty” he spoke with a roll of his eyes.

“shut the hell up” i spoke before walking towards his car.

as soon as we got in, i pulled my dress up to expose my lower half.

“fuck, no panties?” he asked, watching as i spread around the arousal that had accumulated as a result of his teasing.

“shut up and drive” i spoke back.

“what if i don’t want to?” he asked, his hand creeping up my thigh.

i quickly slapped his hand away, “get in the back” i told him.

“i- here? right in front of your house?” he asked, dumbfounded.

“i told you to drive, you didn’t want to. so, get in the back”

he didn’t argue after that, immediately moving to do as i said.

when we got to the back, i was quick to straddle his lap.

i brought my hand to his face, cupping it as i took in his features.

“what’s up, baby?” he asked, his brows furrowing in confusion.

“nothing, i just missed you” i shrugged lightly, gently rubbing my thumb across his cheek.

his face broke out into a grin at the words, his hands resting on my waist.

“i’m right here” he spoke, pulling me into a sweet kiss, “and i missed you too” he added.

“you better have” i said before placing my lips on his.

his lips were soft, caressing mine with every movement. the kiss started off slow and loving, but gradually grew heated after a little while.

our hands roamed each others bodies, grabbing any exposed skin that was available.

the sound of our soft moans filled the car, while one of nate’s hands made its way under my dress, squeezing my ass. his other hand rested on my thigh, lightly rubbing the skin.

i was desperate for more, needing to feel him inside of me, but i also wanted to soak in the moment. so instead of rushing it, i allowed myself to take the time to enjoy every moment with him.

nate detached his lips from mine, moving them to my neck to press kisses to my skin.

my eyes fluttered closed as nate lightly nibbled and sucked at the skin, making sure to leave marks.

he moved one of the straps of my dress down, just enough to expose one of my tits.

he picked up where he left off with the kisses, now focusing on littering my boob with them.

he took the nipple into his mouth, eliciting a drawn out moan from me when he began to suck on the small bud.

he swirled his tongue around it, leaving a light peck before giving my other boob the same treatment.

i moved my hands down between us, hooking my fingers onto the band of his sweatpants. i tugged them down far enough for his dick to spring out, slapping against his stomach.

i spit into my hand, using it to stroke him before lining him up with my entrance. he pulled up my dress, bunching it up at my waist while i sunk down onto him.

“fuck” i sighed out, leaning forward to leave kisses on his neck.

his hands gripped my ass while i began to roll my hips into his.

“you always take me so fucking well, so good for me” he groaned.

“so beautiful, can’t believe you’re mine” he mumbled. i couldn’t help but clench around him at his words.

“all yours nate” i moaned back to him while i continued to rock my hips.

i grasped his shirt in my hands, bunching up the material while my head fell into the crook of his neck.

“so fucking good, you’re so good nate” i moaned into his skin as i moved on top of him.

he suddenly picked me up, holding me so i was just above his lap, before thrusting into me.

“oh my god, nate” i cried out as i wrapped my arms around his neck.

“yeah? that feel good?” he groaned out as he pushed himself in and out of my tight walls.

my pussy held a tight grip on him and his thrusts were slow, allowing me to feel every inch of him as he stretched me out.

“yes, yes feels so good. i can’t- please don’t stop” i moaned as my face scrunched up in pleasure.

he moved his mouth to one of my tits, while his hand went to rub circles on my clit roughly.

my eyes rolled into the back of my head, mouth hanging open as i felt my orgasm creeping up on me.

“nate ! i’m gonna cum, gonna-” i was barely even able to finish my sentence before i released all over him.

i moved off of his lap, getting on my knees beside him to begin stroking his member.

“shit” he sighed out as i placed my mouth on his tip.

i moved my hair to the side as i fully took him into my mouth, bobbing my head up and down .

he was quick to pull me closer, pushing two fingers into me from behind.

the feeling of his fingers plunging in and out of me pulled a long moan from me, making nate buck his hips up into my mouth.

i gagged around him when he pushed himself deeper into my throat, causing me to pull my mouth off of him, replacing it with my hand.

i looked up at him while i twisted my hand around him, feeling him twitch in my hand, “you gonna cum for me?”

he nodded in response, unable to form words as he stared down at me with his jaw falling slack.

“give it to me, baby. i want you to cover me in it” with those words, his head flew back as thick spurts of his cum shot out of him, landing on my face and chest.

“turn around for me, wanna clean you up” he spoke.

i did what he said, turning to face the car door on the opposite side.

he hooked his hands around my legs, pulling me closer to him before i felt his tongue on my thigh.

i let out a low whine when i felt him lick the cum that dripped down my leg from my orgasm.

he followed the trail up, before leaving kitten licks to my sensitive folds. the teasing swipes of his tongue made my brain fuzzy, and my sensitive pussy clenched around nothing.

he spread my folds out with his hand, pushing his tongue into my tight hole to slurp up every drop of my pleasure.

when he finished, he let out a satisfied hum and gave my ass a light slap.

“that’s better” he spoke, a cheeky grin overtaking his face. i looked at him with wide eyes, as he began to lick his lips.

“you’re insane” i spoke to him, watching as he tucked away his dick.

“don’t act like you didn’t eat that shit up” he spoke as he raised his eyebrows at me.

“speaking of eating, i’m hungry” i spoke as i adjusted my dress, fixing myself up.

“date night?” he asked.

my mouth grew into a smile as i answered, “yeah. but aren’t you supposed to buy a girl dinner before you have sex with her?” i asked jokingly.

“who said i wasn’t having sex with you after?” he asked smugly.

much love <33

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