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chil2de · 3 years

Note

Your sharing a bed with the JJK men hc's were incredible 😩 special mentions for Megumi's bed head, Nanami being a secret cuddle bug, and Yuuta having to drink both iced coffees (that fucking sent me fjdndnfd I could picture it so clearly).

You're super talented so could I, er, possible get a NSFW version? 👀 💳💥💥💥💳💳💥💳💥

Thank you so much 🥺💕

hello anonie!!! thank you dear i’m so glad you liked them!! please the credit card emojis had me cackling LMFAOOOO you really made my whole day out here!!!(THE ICED COFFEE WAS MY FAVOURITE PART TOO)

well i managed to hit the max amount of characters allowed in a tumblr post with five characters alone so i’m going to have to split this up into several posts. it just kinda happened ig

characters in this post: itadori yuuji, gojo satoru, okkotsu yuuta, fushiguro toji (megumi was supposed to be here but i had to reserve him for next post😔)

this work is nsfw. if you’re new here, please read my disclaimer before proceeding. thank you and enjoy!

based off of this post

itadori

- itadori would prob be a ‘deer in the headlights’ if you woke him up in the middle of the night

- but after that? shit, he’s so nice to you. so kind and generous for his baby girl. whether he’s fucking you ‘cause he thinks you might be able to sleep after an orgasm or there’s just an incessant desire for him- doesn’t really matter all that much to itadori. he loves you either way :)

- gets horny so easily LMFAO

- would 100% dick you down if you asked him to and i like to think that he still keeps his really sweet personality during sex cause aaaa he would be so soft and reassuring

- hardcore dom yuuji sounds sexy as all hell but let’s be real… this man won’t kill a fly and apologises for stepping on ants. only exception being angry sex but overall reserving hard dom for sukuna :)

you pepper tiny kisses onto itadori’s face, treating him with the utmost care like handling fine china. his skin feels so soft against your lips, and he smells very faintly of milky soap. there’s some traces of brand cologne on his shirt, as well as his natural scent.

“yuuujiii-“ you coo, blowing air very gently. when he doesn’t stir, you run your fingertips through a bundle of his cotton candy tainted hair. it evokes a reaction from him, so you continue to press him.

“y-uuuu-ji!”

after a few moments, itadori lets out a soft whine before grumbling incoherent blabber. “i won’t eat the pineapple! kugisaki will scream at me!”

you giggle before prodding him again, when finally he relents and jolts awake, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted at how close your face is to his.

“‘s it morning yet?” he wrinkles his nose, stifling a yawn. you emit a hum in thought before wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling you into him. itadori squeaks in surprise when he feels you latch your lips onto his neck, suckling and carefully breaking the bonds underneath his sensitive skin. his moan comes out groggy, still laced with sleep.

“that drives me crazy, you know that, right?” itadori laughs, though his voice comes as a wobble.

“i know. and they look so good on you too, hm?” you giggle, caressing one hand from his neck and then down to the hem of his shirt. your fingertips flutter against his bare skin and he shivers physically and audibly. you smooth your palm flat along his chest, dragging your nails carefully against his muscles.

“kinda.. wanna.. go to.. sleep.. but i don’t.. wanna fall asleep…” itadori mumbles against his pillow. the fabric muffles most of it, but there’s a strain in his voice that leads you to believe he’s moaning lightly. guess after sukuna ripped his heart out, this area hasn’t been quite the same, huh?

“so? then go to sleep, yuuji. i’ll be fine-“ “-no way! i gotta take care of you”

“so why don’t you?”

“‘m going to! i was asleep just half a minute ago!”

“and besides-“

he shifts himself up into a sitting position, leaning his back against the headrest. itadori opens his arms, motioning for you to crawl on top of him. without any haste, you clamber over his built frame, ghosting just over the print of his hard dick.

“not that i mind but- we did, you know, in the morning already-“ “oh, shit, sorry- it’s totally fine if you don’t want t-“ “-just messing with you!”

itadori pulls your neck down and gifts you with the same treatment you were offering him earlier. his tongue is hot and wet against your skin and you can already feel the precipitation forming at the back of your knees. calloused yet tender hands smooth around your waist and he smooths his palms over your shoulder blades.

after itadori’s satisfied with the mark he left, you can’t help but groan a little into his mouth when his lips suddenly claim yours. he drinks you up, relying solely on your taste like he’s drowning and you’re the air he needs.

itadori takes his sweet time cherishing you, or rather it’s still his state of half slumber, but you can feel a dull ache prick your abdomen. you scratch up his shirt, motioning for him to take it off. you’re unsure what comes over you, but shit, you don’t want him- you need him.

“heyheyhey, ‘s okay. don’t worry, i got you.”

“i’ll take care of you.”

“just relax, okay? i got this.” he only coos with sweet reassurances, peppering small kisses and handling you with the utmost precision.

you whimper, balancing your palms flat against his abdomen for additional support as you sink down onto itadori’s cock. he lets out a hum of content, forehead bumping against yours as he allows you to adjust.

“you good?” he murmurs after a few moments, capturing a few strands of your hair in between his fingertips. you nod meekly and itadori hisses out a breathy exhale. he’s sure that if he goes rough as shit you might end up more broken than being able to sleep, so he screws his eyes shut and exhales to maintain his composure.

blazing hot lips scrape against your ear, and his voice comes out in a husky tone.

“tell me how you want it.”

by the lords of everything and all that is holy, itadori only chants the same phrase over and over in his mind. it’s a miracle that he’s able to think straight with all the blood rushing to his cock. he’s more than happy to take it slow, reward you with slow and long strokes while he showers you with high praises. but he can’t ignore the twitch that he experiences when he envisions that pretty lil fucked out face of yours, all messy and ruined for him.

you mutter that you have no preference, that you don’t care because anything he’ll do for you is perfect, and it only gives him a beaming smile at your words.

itadori grabs the scrunched up ball of his shirt that he was wearing before ripping the fabric into half with his bare teeth. you watch his eyebrows perk when he notices how fucking hot you just found that, evident with the way your walls fluttered around him.

“here, babe.”

you part your lips and he stuffs the fabric into your mouth, there’s a little bit of excess hanging out, but he reminds you that you look sexy as hell either way, on top of his dick like that with your hands on his chest, legs spread, face flushed and ready for him.

“don’t wanna be wakin’ anyone else up.”

yuuta

this man is about to end my whole career

yuuta wouldn’t bring it up on his own accord just because… respect.. and he doesn’t want to pressure you or make you uncomfortable into doing things you’re not ready to.

it’s kind of a gray area for him because he doesn’t relish the idea of bringing up sensitive and/or extremely awkward topics so he really said ‘i’ll leave it up to future me’s problem’

but holy shit. let me absolutely tell you.

the second you hint at it? anything of the sorts? 0 to 100. he is FREAKY you cannot tell me he’s innocent just LOOK at the man

can make you scream with ease. all that practice he’s been doing with handling katanas? he doesn’t need his dick to make you cum. will gladly lick up your leftover juices and remark with a smile on his face how ‘it tastes good, angel’

similarly to itadori, i think he would be sweet and patient when asking for your preferences, etc, but after that you’re gonna have to find something to bite onto

“and? what’d you tell her?” yuuta remarks from over his fanned out deck of three cards. his gaze flickers to you as he awaits a response before using his index and middle finger to lay down a +4 card.

“red, by the way.”

you huff and glare at your boyfriend, picking up four cards and attempting to hold them in such a way that they don’t all fall and rattle to the floor. truth be told? you’re seriously a sore fuckin’ loser. you don’t know how he does it, but you’ve never managed to win a game against yuuta.

“i told maki-san that it’s her problem, not mine. if she’s so pressed about people taking them, why does she keep noodles stored in the fridge? really, noodles in the fridge? they’re really spicy as well! made my nose run like hell.” you scoff in distaste, throwing down a random red card on the pile.

“you totally ate them didn’t you?” yuuta giggles, beaming you a wide smile.

“also.. told her that i didn’t see them instead but- yeah.”

“aren’t you worried she’ll find out? oh, and, uno.”

“she might just beat me up to be honest, and, uno, you say? not anymore, love.” you sneer, throwing down a +4 card.

“i want green.”

“i’d protect you.” yuuta states over his cards. you feel like cracking a joke and laughing, but there’s absolutely zero implication on his facial features to show that he’s joking. that, and his serious tone, of course.

you flip your cards down onto the table and yuuta squeaks, pointing towards them.

“uh- i can see your cards-“

“it’s okay, not like i was gonna win anyway.”

at this point, yuuta’s mind races a hundred miles an hour. he’s panicking, blood pressure raised, heart thumping and throat clogged. oh, shit, did he do something wrong? did he upset you? is it ‘cause he said he’d protect you with no regards to the fact that you’re perfectly capable of fending yourself off against maki? fuck, he’s such a god damn screw-up, can’t even take care of his girlfriend correct-

“hey.”

your fingertips slide around his neck, hands interlocking at the base of his head. your thighs balance on his lap and you straddle him, legs either side of his.

he can’t help but hitch his breath, holding it in as though one wrong move and you would dematerialise.

“what’re you thinking about in that head of yours?”

whether you’re referencing his mini panic attack just now, or if you’re referring to all the multiple times he’s battled just bending you over and railing the absolute shit out of you, there’s not much room for debate when you brush your clothed sex up against the print of his dick.

yuuta snakes his slender hands around your throat, holding it in place. you can feel the arousal pool and wash over you, and you’d be more than surprised if you hadn’t soaked through your clothes.

he lets out a breathy laugh, devastating your stomach with butterflies due to how attractive he sounds. yuuta’s soft lips brush the shell of your ear and his other hand moves to rest on your waist,

“why don’t i show you?”

before you can utter a tease something along the lines of “show me what? how you’re too scared to hit me in bed?” you’re already down, flipped over and bent over the table you and yuuta were using moments prior ago for uno. the cards have splattered all over the wooden floor and you only hiss in discomfort as the cool surface scratches against your delicate skin. your boyfriend towers over you, leaning down as his torso clicks into place against your back. even through his titanium white jacket, you can feel his calm and collected heartbeat. he rests his head on your shoulder, nudging his face into you.

“don’t scream, okay? or, try not to, at least-“

his warm fingertips ghost over the curve of your ass, where he pinches the skin there before delivering a loud slap. you squeak, back arching as you jolt from the action. he proceeds by grabbing the inside of your thighs, long middle finger hoisting around your underwear and pulling it to the side. he makes note of the red lingerie you’re wearing and gives you a small chuckle, peppering a kiss to the side of your face.

“-unless, of course-“

“-you’d prefer everyone hear me fuck you stupid.”

“safe word’s blue, angel. i love you and thank you.”

truth be told, you were never sure what to expect from yuuta. hell, you’d never really seen the man’s dick before, sure you caught glimpses in the morning whenever he’d wake up but it’s really not the same. nothing in the world can compare to the first time you felt his piping hot tip brush up against your slicked cunt. and it was embarrassing, actually, the way your pussy was seething for him already.

with a firm hold on your tailbone, yuuta utilises his lower body strength to ram his dick all the way inside. there’s a garbled and choked moan that hisses from you when you feel your walls wrap and deform around the girth of yuuta’s dick. you whine even more so when you can physically feel a thick vein that decorates his shaft.

“the mirror.” yuuta commands in a low tone, redirecting you to glance at the same mirror you’d always fantasised about him fucking you in front of.

his eyes are half lidded, riddled with concentration. it reminds you of that feral and focused gaze he gets during serious battles.

“don’t look at me. look here.”

you trail the outline of yuuta’s arm veins as a result of him rolling his uniform sleeves up; following his v line that points towards his dick. you can only gawk in awe when you realise you’ve taken him to the base of his shaft.

his gaze locks with yours for a split second and he snaps his hips out until just about his tip is visible inside your cunt.

and shit, if his pretty pink cock isn’t the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, especially with that attractive curve. you’re sure the gesture is just to wind you up, but you can’t help but swoon at him showcasing his pride to you.

“so- mmhf- pretty-“ you whine, words jumbled and breath caught when he slams his dick inside without any prior warning. you can only shriek in exclamation when his tip bruises your cervix, and you’re unsure whether you lament the sensation or not.

he only gives you a cheerful hum, reminding you of his usual cheery disposition. it’s not until then that you realise how much of a fucking beast he’s acting right now.

“right? i’ll put it to good use, i promise.”

gojo

- i know we’re all thinking the same thing here lmfao

- trying to sleep? good for you, now, open your legs for satoru.

- oh you can’t sleep? atta girl, down on your knees for satoru.

- bye i can literally imagine gojo saying some dumbass shit like “think you were trying to sleep but i couldn’t help but think how good my dick would look down your throat like that. sorry, love, you’re not sleeping tonight.”

you blink your eyes in turn with the cicadas chirping aside, stifling a yawn. everything around you down to the very last detail screams at you to sleep, but you just cannot. from the pitch black night that floods the room obscurely, to gojo’s even and quiet breathing beside you. you’ve tried it all. you’ve counted an excess amount of sheep, you’ve tensed and relaxed your body more than you can remember. hell, no matter how many times you’ve flipped the pillow you always seemed to feel less exhausted each time.

you can’t watch netflix, because you’ve binged all your favourite shows. it’s not that you’d wake gojo up because, who cares? by the time you finish scrolling through the endless lists it’ll be time to get up.

you ponder over the things you can do, continuing to subconsciously blink furiously. that is until gojo makes note of your stupid actions and starts giggling like a high schooler at his first sleepover.

“what the hell are you doing?” he snorts, cackling into the pillow like it’s the best joke he’s heard for quite some time.

“shut up, satoru. i’m trying to sleep you ass.” you tut at him, berating him for ruining your divine concentration.

gojo audibly shifts onto his stomach, his right arm crosses over the back of his head as he lazily rests his palm onto his scalp. the other arm preoccupies itself by landing it smack bang onto your chest, fingers wandering up to cup your breast.

“satoru, huh? that’s daddy for ya” he remarks, still giggling in a state of half asleep.

“uh-huh. goodnight.” you dismiss him and his nonsense.

“just go take a shower. always helps me whenever i can’t sleep.”

“hm? you’re giving me actual good advice and being a normal boyfriend? i think i might be asleep already, this is the best dream ever.” you remark sarcastically, prying gojo’s glued wrist off of your breast and sitting up. you could go for a shower, actually. you’re not sure why but it’s always so therapeutic to take one at night rather than the morning.

“huuuh? how could you say that? you’re so mean, (y/n)-chaan! i offered you my love and the world and this is how you repay m-“

“-goodnight satoru. i love you.”

“don’t think professing your love for me will change my mind! i’m still upset at you right now, young lady!” gojo shouts from over his pillow, exclaiming and irritating you in the way he knows how to best.

“yeah, yeah. okay.” you mumble softly to yourself, bearing a wide grin from ear to ear nonetheless.

when you move to crank the water on in the shower, you realise that you didn’t bring along a change of clothes. you momentarily pop back into the bedroom to ransack the drawer for anything that you can find.

“are you back to apologise for being so mean to me?” gojo whines and you can see the pout evident on him even when it’s pitch black.

“no, i’m just here for clothes, satoru.”

you hear him mumble something but it’s muffled by the sheets he’s underneath so you don’t heed any attention to it and resume in taking a shower to help keep your insomnia at bay.

with a ginger step and a small ‘oopf’, you heave yourself into the large shower that only a headass like gojo would bother buying. it’s reminiscent to what a hot tub looks like on the inside, with surrounding jets practically in a full 360 degrees. the things so steep that there’s a small step up in front of the shower outside the actual structure. it must have cost quite the fortune.

you reach in for the built in shelf to grab ahold of some of your toiletries as you allow the water to fall in a gentle sprinkle, almost like rain. there’s an audible squeeze reminiscent to trying to get the last ounces of ketchup as you apply some body gel to your hands, lathering it up.

despite standing, the warmth of the water leads your muscles to feel less tense. the only noteworthy downside is that the running water is tremendously loud. how on earth is gojo sleeping through all that racket?

slender fingertips ghost over your inner thighs. you can feel his wet and sturdy chest in place against your spine.

“surprised to see me?”

“you know i can’t let my baby talk shit like that.”

really? that’s his issue at hand here?

“so which is it?”

“acting like an intolerant brat because you’re tired or ‘cause you wanna get dicked down?”

gojo loops his arm underneath your leg, bending it up. you almost topple over in the process and you lay one hand flat against the tile.

“don’t answer that. sometimes it’s so obvious that you’re such a whore for my dick.”

“huh?! what the shit are you saying?” you snap at how correct he is.

gojo yanks your face back, digging his fingers into your cheeks as he forces you to face him. it almost sends your neck into two pieces, straining to look back at him.

“oh, really princess? just the other day you were begging me to fuck you”

“remember that? couldn’t wait so you rode me in the car? you know, baby, all you gotta do is ask.”

your legs tremble and psyche wobbles when he pries your mouth open with his thumb, promptly before spitting into it.

“don’t bother with the bullshit. i’ll play the games, not you.”

he drags his hard cock against the curve of your ass, slapping it against you.

“i don’t think i feel like fuckin’ you right now.” gojo sneers, humming sardonically. his lips quickly latch onto yours when you spin around to meet his gaze. like the fucker he is, gojo moans and whines into the kiss- lips ravaging you whole and tongue capturing your essence.

“baby girl, i was gonna let you top me. you know i don’t let anyone do that.”

his long middle finger prods against your cunt, forcing itself in with ease.

“damn, you’re soaked. you really wanted to milk me dry that bad?”

you hate him. hate him so fucking bad. he flashes you that attractive smile of his, azure eyes sparkling and snow white hair disturbed with water.

gojo pulls his finger out before sucking onto it in front of you, lapping all the excess arousal off.

“i’m not playing with you tonight.”

toji

- i literally don’t even need to say anything here

- just be sure to make a hospital check up appointment or something

- um-i uh- please remember to breathe after this one? maybe touch some grass? ALSO my first time writing for toji AAA i hope he’s okay

maybe if you don’t breathe? nah, that wouldn’t work. there’s still air acting around your limbs when you move so you’d be disturbing the barriers there. let’s see… maybe bit by bit? surely if you slowly inched his shirt up? then again, wouldn’t toji chew you out halfway through? maybe you should just give it to him straight up? just slip your hand under his shirt. come on. but he looks so peaceful, sleeping like that.. long eyelashes fluttered closed, lips relaxed and not scowling. his eyebrows are softly arched. he looks so soft, lips parted, chest rising and falling with every breath.

fuck it. just do it. cuddle him already.

you muster up all your courage in one fell swoop and you bend one leg over toji, resting it just above his groin. your right arm sprawls out over his chest and your hand rests against his toned arm. he’s already sleeping with one arm bent up with his hand supporting the back of his head, so you utilise the free real estate to nestle your head in the crook of where his shoulder and collarbone meet.

when he doesn’t move after a while, you deem your life to be safe and exhale with ease.

“you’re not asleep.” toji states in a groggy, husky tone. it’s supposed to be a question, but, coming from him it almost sounds like a challenge.

“yes?” you squeak out meekly.

“‘yes?’ you asleep or not?”

“i can’t sleep again.” you murmur against his shirt and he exhales a small sigh. the arm that you’re clinging onto moves to draw small circles on your thigh that rests on toji.

“when’d you notice?” you inquire, glancing down at his large wrists.

“like five minutes ago. nice try, kid.” toji snorts indifferently, chuckling at your behaviour.

when you don’t make an effort to respond, toji’s interest peaks and he lets out a small hum of intrigue when he follows your gaze.

he turns his head, brushing his lips up against your temples.

“see anything interesting down there?”

“as a matter of fact-“

you nestle yourself in between toji’s large and built thighs, digits curling around the waistband of his boxers. he only smirks at you through the dark, cock twitching through the fabric. you notice toji hover his hips up so that you can slide his boxers off for him and you happily oblige.

“-i do.” you chime, licking your lips.

it’s cute, though, if you thought toji was gonna let you handle him like that all by yourself.

as you kiss a trail up his thick shaft, toji yanks ahold fistfuls of your hair before grabbing your face off of his cock.

“who said you could suck my dick? that’s real cute.”

“thinking you actually have a place in my house.”

“i didn’t train you to be such a depraved slut. know your fucking place, because this isn’t it.”

“how many times do i gotta tell you? you don’t belong here. look around. do you see anything that shows a woman lives here? no? that’s because you’re nothing but a fuck doll for me.”

toji hisses out profanities at the gag you spew when he slams your tiny little mouth back down on his dick.

“lose the teeth you imbecile. unless you’re trying to tell me that you can’t suck my dick properly.”

incessant whines and garbled sentences are muffled by toji’s cock. whatever remnants you had of your vision are nothing but a blur as tears stream your cheeks, nose running and sniffles resurface in a repeating pattern over the slick sounds of slurping and gagging. your mouth stretches as far as it can go and the corners of your lips shriek in despair. you can feel the skin there stretch and pull beyond what’s considered normal.

even through all that, you manage to glance up at toji through your water logged lashes. you’ll be a good girl for him. you need to be.

“fuuuck. that’s a pretty sight.” he grumbles and a deep chuckle resonates through his chest. within a few moments, toji fumbles to reach for something.

you can only wince and screw your eyes at the suddenly blinding flash of a light in front of you. one can only assume he’s taken a photo of you in your humiliating state.

you can feel the fear settle into your veins when that telltale ping of a message being sent vibrates throughout the room. if you were to listen hard enough, you could hear a notification go off in the next room over.

your throat feels raw, jaw tense and locked open. it’s been a good twenty minutes of toji face fucking you to teach you a valid lesson. it’s all in the will of him wanting to drag this on, savouring every miniscule slurp, whimper or gasp. when his strokes start to feel sloppier than usual, you can’t help but feel relieved.

as you squirm about due to toji shooting hot ropes of his thick cum down your throat, the door softly clicks open.

“megumi. you’re just in time.”

“she’s way more obedient than your mom ever used to be.”

494 notes · View notes

royallyprincesslilly · 3 years

Text

Title: Orion's Belt {One Shot}***

Pablo Schreiber x Reader

Words: 3.7k

Warning: Fluff, NSFW 18+ Content, Smut

Note: Inspired by Sabrina Claudio’s “Orion Belt” and Pablo’s endless supply of body freckles and beauty marks.

**I hope you guys enjoy this. Thank you for reading, as always!!!

**If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. ❤️❤️

**NOT Edited/Proofread*

Inspiration #1:

Inspiration #2:

Five months. That’s how long it had been. Five long months since you’d physically seen him. 5 months, 21.7 weeks, 152 days, 3650 hours, and over 200,000 minutes. To say the least, you missed him and had begun to forget just how his skin smelled and felt. At the beginning of your relationship, you’d promised yourselves that your separations wouldn’t go past a few weeks, a month tops and over the last almost two years, you’d been able to keep that promise. This was your longest separation, and you were struggling. If his last social media post was accurate then he was also struggling.

That was what you were doing on this red-eye flight. You’d had enough. Opening Pablo’s IG, you found his last post from an hour ago. It was a workout shot and damn was he showing out. Your eyes slowly took in every single detail beginning from the strained but sexy look on his face then down to the veins protruding from his neck. When you got to his beautifully defined hair dusted chest your mouth began to water. As your eyes slowly dipped lower to his abs and the inviting hair that beckoned to you from the top of his black sweats you gripped the arm of the seat with your free hand and crossed your legs hoping to stop the pulsating you felt in your nether regions.

“Goddamn!”

Not trusting yourself to comment you quickly backed out and navigated away from his page. You were a weak woman right now and if you continued your thirst-capade you’d reveal everything to the hungry eyes of scrollers. While your relationship wasn’t a secret it also wasn’t all in everyone’s faces. Both of you understood that the secret to a high-profile relationship was privacy and knowing what to share and what to keep to yourself. There were even times when everyone wondered if you were still together and that was how both of you liked it. That meant there was less chance of inviting unwanted guests into a twosome.

MSG Lara: I’ve taken care of everything. The front desk will have a spare key card. Normal code.

MSG: Thanks, Lara.

MSG Lara: He’s going to be very surprised.

You smiled to yourself thinking just how surprised he’d be. You weren’t scheduled to see each other for another month when this strenuous film schedule was finally over. You were supposed to meet him in Budapest and stay there while he finished filming. A month was too long as far as you were concerned.

MSG: Fingers crossed. Thanks again.

For the remainder of the flight, tried your best to not jump out of your skin from excitement and stay as Zen as possible. It was near impossible especially when you knew you had seventy-two hours all to yourselves.

-10 Hours Later-

MSG Qatura: 80 hours, Y/N. I can’t get you any more than that, but I promise it won’t be an hour less.

You were grateful for the time she’d been able to procure you. A day ago, you’d reluctantly accepted that fate was what it was. The minute she broke the news you were up and packing.

MSG: Got it.

Closing your text exchange between you and your manager you slipped your phone back into the pocket of your tan-colored oversized cardigan as you approached the front desk.

“Welcome to the Setine, I’m Alonso. Checking in?”

The front desk attendant’s smile was wide as if he loved his job, or his training was superb. You returned his smile before you spoke.

“No, picking up my key card. Wandering Soul.”

Alonso nodded then tapped a few keys on the computer before he smiled again. “Yes. Here you are.”

You took the card and nodded your thanks then walked toward the bank of elevators. Once in you sent a message off to Tara to find out the floor then rode it all the way up. Checking your watch, you expected him to either be asleep or getting ready for bed from the time you read; 12:45. After a few short minutes, the doors opened on twenty-seven and you began the hunt for the suite number. Luckily there looked to be not many rooms on the floor so the search ended after only a minute. Rolling your luggage to a stop in front of the door you took a few relaxing breaths to slow the thumping of your heart then you slide the card in and out of the lock hoping the beep and clicking didn’t wake him.

Slowly you walked inside rolling your suitcase behind you. The room was dark, save for one long pedestal lamp bathing warm light throughout the room that looked close to candlelight. You left your luggage in the corner of the living area and quietly walked around to where you expected the bedroom to be. Once you walked in, more soft light filled the room showing you the empty bed and ruffled sheets. It was then you heard the sound of the shower. Your smile spread across your face as you thanked the powers that be because this was working out better than you’d planned.

“Two birds,” you excitedly whispered to yourself before you squealed as low as possible.

You quickly kicked off your kitten heel slide on sandals then began undressing. After your clothes were off you began with the different pieces of jewelry that were scattered on your frame. A task that should have taken a minute tops took way longer than you liked. As you tiptoed to the bathroom you slowly pushed the door wider. Even the lights in the bathroom were set low. You wondered if this was an insomnia shower or sore shower. He’d been pushing his body to the brink for this role, and you constantly found yourself worrying about him.

The sight of Pablo standing underneath the showerhead with his head hung low and his hands pressed onto the tiled wall. From your angle, he looked like he was really going through it. His groan echoed throughout the room, and it made you want to quickly go to him, but you were frozen from the sight before you. He was gorgeous. The water cascading down his muscled body made him look better than any male model ever could, and his pose screamed alpha.

You backed out of the bathroom and went to your luggage on the hunt for your favorite body wash that was not only good for skin but also muscle tension and stress. Once you found it you walked back inside the bathroom and to him. After putting the bottle down on one of the shower pedestals you approached his back and touched the small of his back right at his tailbone.

At first touch, Pablo gasped and flinched at the same time before he spun around ready to strike. It only took a few seconds for him to realize you weren’t some psycho fan who’d snuck in. The realization was a journey across his face. Slowly the wrinkles of worry on his forehead smoothed, the radiating annoyance and horror in his eyes faded and the tight clench of his jaw loosened. The only thing that remained was his widened eyes.

“Y/N?” The disbelief in his voice was so clear as was the vulnerability.

A soft smirk decorated your lips before you spoke. “Were you expecting someone else?”

A plethora of emotions filled his eyes and they almost brought you to tears. When he didn’t speak you did.

“Surprise.”

In seconds Pablo pulled you to him and engulfed you in his large arms. He held you as if his plan was to enmesh himself with you, so you’d never be able to leave again.

“Oh god, I missed you so much baby,” Pablo said, his confession echoing around the shower.

“I missed you too.”

He pulled back and stared at you taking in every detail of your face. When his large hand cupped your jaw your knees sightly wobbled. He always had the uncanny ability to make you feel so small when his hands were on you. Pablo slowly dragged his thumb across your bottom lip. His second hand joined the first and held you there for his viewing pleasure.

“You’re as beautiful as ever, sunshine.”

You smiled and lifted onto your toes to press a soft kiss on his lips. As soon as your lips met, Pablo moaned and dropped one of his hands to the small of your bareback and held you flush against him. You peppered kisses across his face that you could reach, the corners of his mouth, his cheeks, his jaw, chin, and nose. When his lips met yours again he spun you so you were underneath the rainfall showerhead. Instantly, your sweet kisses turned carnal as your lips eagerly danced together as if you both were famished.

“Five months,” Pablo grunted out as he backed you to one of the walls of the shower.

“Five months,” you repeated.

“21.7 weeks.”

You smiled on his lips and kissed him just as fiercely as he kissed you.

“152 days,” Pablo added pressing your hands to the wall as he laced your fingers together. His lips left yours and dipped to your neck making a soft moan escape your lips.

"3660 hours.”

With that, he lifted you against him and pressed his body into yours. You moaned together as the feeling of his hardened desire nudged against your bottom. Your eyes met and though the light was dim you saw the fire in them.

“Over 200,000 minutes,” you filled in.

With the back of his hand, Pablo caressed your cheek in the softest way that had your belly doing backflips.

“I love you so much, Y/N.”

Unable to stop them, your tears rolled down your cheeks for Pablo to swipe away.

“I love you.”

As soon as the words were out, Pablo’s lips were pressed to yours on a mission to suck your very soul from your mouth. Your moans mingled together in the bathroom neither of you caring how loud you got. You relished the feel of his hands on your body and thanked god that you’d been able to make it through this long time apart. When Pablo’s lips left yours again he trailed kisses down the center of your body until he found his way to your nipples that were begging for some attention. Obeying your body’s silent command Pablo feasted on the hardened flesh taking his time. You had no idea how he was able to go slow, right now you were filled with so much desire and need for him all you wanted to do was pounce on him and take everything you wanted. The man was the master of foreplay no matter what.

After almost twenty minutes in the shower, Pablo walked you both out to the bedroom without one thought of a towel. When you felt the cool sheets on your back you moaned. Pablo didn’t join you instantly, instead, he stood at the foot of the bed gawking down at you scanning every inch of your body as if you were a freshly dug-up diamond.

“You should take a picture, it’ll last longer,” you teased.

He smiled and slipped away to the table beside the bed. When he came back around you saw he actually had his phone. You giggled at his silliness but struck a pose for him as he snapped picture after picture. A few pictures turned into an impromptu erotic boudoir photoshoot. When your eyes dropped to his waist the sight of the weapon of mass destruction that he was doing nothing to conceal had your heart skipping a beat. From your kneeling positing you crawled to him and trailed your hands from his abs upward literally feeling your way.

“Damn, I’ve been dying to touch you for months,” you confessed.

“And now that you have? Have you had enough?”

A mischievous smile spread across your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Not nearly enough.”

You kissed him with all the pent-up passion and desire you held inside of you dipping your fingers into his hair. The kiss quickly turned sloppy with Pablo sucking your tongue as if it were a lollipop. When he pulled back his hands cupped your breasts before he motorboated them. When he brought each nipple into his mouth he released your breasts to pull your thighs to him forcing you to drop back on the bed.

“I’m hungry.”

Two words and your belly flipped, and your clit throbbed more ferociously. Pablo dropped down and kissed your inner thighs back and forth. He moved with no urgency, no anxiousness and it drove you crazy. Your hips unexpectedly bucked up making him look to you.

“Still as impatient as ever I see,” Pablo teased.

“I’ve reached the cap on my patience, love.”

Your hand dropped between your legs to slowly rub yourself. Before you could make more than two circles Pablo slapped your hand away.

“Mine.”

Before you could retort, Pablo tipped his tongue and licked along your slit drawing a satisfied sigh from your lips. He repeated the action, once, then twice before he buried his face between your legs and expertly lapped at your soaking flesh.

Between moans and gasps you spoke, “Now who’s—impatient?”

Once you said it, you regretted it because it was then Pablo gently bit your clit making your body arch off the bed.

“Fuck!”

His muffled moan only inched you closer and closer to your orgasm. You knew it wouldn’t take long. Your hands inched down your body and dipped into his hair again, this time using his locks as a guide. After a few short minutes, your moans were loud, and your body was shaking.

“Mmm, I’m gonna—gonna—mmm!”

“Cum for me sunshine,” Pablo commanded in his dom tone. It was all you needed. Your body arched off the bed again and your grip tightened, and your body exploded. Pablo didn’t stop though, instead, he forcefully sucked on your clit pulling another orgasm from you.

Instead of exhaustion, you felt renewed energy burst through you. This energy was what gave you the strength to pull him up your body and flip him onto his back.

“Mmm, I’ve missed your taste babygirl,” Pablo silkily uttered.

You kissed him and swirled your tongue around his and moaned as you tasted remnants of yourself.

“Had enough?”

Pablo’s hands slipped down your body. One went to your ass and the other between your legs. His thick digits rubbed against your slickened flesh, gathering your moisture until he circled his two fingers at your opening. Slowly he coaxed them inside your heat making you clench around him at first touch.

The breath Pablo drew in was a shaky one. “Not even close,” he whispered dipping his fingers inside again and again. Each time he did you clenched around them and shivered.

“Mmm, I can hear your body sunshine. Sit on daddy’s dick.”

Again the domination in his voice spoke to you and you nearly obeyed—nearly. As if he knew you were trying to resist, Pablo swiped circled your clit with his other hand, and brought a finger to your rear to circle the sensitive puckered flesh there. You gasped and lost half the battle as you found yourself bucking your hips and swiping your folds along the smooth silky tip of his need. When it nudged your clit you gasped, and when it pressed against your seam you teased him with slow dips that didn’t give him the satisfaction of penetration and only the frustration of the tease.

After a minute or two of this, Pablo held your hips stopping your movements. When your eyes met the softness etched on his face gave away just how open he was.

“You’re gonna make me cum and we haven’t even started,” he groaned out.

Deciding on mercy, you sweetly smiled and brought your knees to kneel inside his thighs then brought your lips to kiss him.

“Do you remember my favorite constellation?”

“Orion’s Belt?”

You nodded and trailed kisses down his chin to his neck following the line of freckles and beauty marks that decorated his skin.

“What about it?”

“Do you know how many nights I spent just trailing my fingertips along the constellation on your body in your pictures on my phone?”

You trailed lower to his ribcage which was where your favorite line of freckles began. This time you took your time and relished every small gasp, and breathy sigh, and tensed muscle your touch brought on. When you got to his abs you kissed each one then trailed your tongue down the center along his pleasure trail.

“God,” Pablo grunted just as his head arched back exposing the constellation on his neck. Unable to resist you slinked back up his body and tasted his skin. As your tongue worked, your hands explored leaving soft nail trails along his chest, abs, and hips. Every so often the soft but forceful nudge against your belly reminded you of the fun that was yet to come.

“Your body holds my favorite constellation. Orion’s belt is right here,” you whispered before you dragged your tongue languidly along the cluster of beauty marks that happened to right along his oblique muscles. This was your Orion’s Belt, you thought to yourself.

Pablo cupped your face again and pulled you to his face and claimed your lips in a possessive but loving kiss. Before you knew it you were straddling his hips again with his hardness ready to re-establish ownership. Your eyes met once more then Pablo kissed your nose.

“You’re my entire stary sky, Y/N, the whole thing.”

Gripping his shoulder, you braced yourself and began your descend. Slowly you took him inside of you and every inch had his grip on your hip tightening and your nails sinking firmly into the flesh on his shoulder. Before you took him halfway, Pablo quickly rolled on top of you using one hand to lift and press one of your legs away so you were spread wide for him. the flex of all the muscles in his upper body brought new wetness puddling at your core. As you clenched around him Pablo shouted out and it was then you show his arms shake.

“Shit baby, this is gonna be quick, I’m sorry.”

You cupped his bearded jaw and hooked your free leg behind his back allowing it to rest against his toned ass.

“I have 3 days, we have time.”

Relief washed across his features and, just as it did, he filled you completely in one stroke of his strong hips. Both of you exclaimed out in unison. Without taking not even a second as a reprieve, Pablo retreated and sank back into you, each time increasing the force of his thrust. As he picked up pace your moans turned into whimpers and each time he changed his angle you clenched around him dragging a loud grunt from him. The whole time his body shook as if he were fighting his very nature. In short minutes you were gripping him tightly as you came around him sucking him deeper into your pleasure trove.

“Fuck Y/N,” Pablo exclaimed through clenched jaws.

That was when his speed increased as did his force. Every snap of his hips sent your body jerking and your breasts dancing. When he wrapped his arms around your legs and lifted so your ass and back were off the mattress he jackhammered into you. Yet another orgasm erupted through you but this one’s force was something infernal. The tingling behind your eyes and the numbness of your fingers said it was a blackout-worthy one.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m coming baby!”

You screeched and let yourself go, giving Pablo every single ounce of trust you possessed. Your body shook and a blinding white light behind your eyes took over and you were gone just like that. Tears pricked your eyes and rolled out the sides of your eyes as your body recalled this feeling, a feeling it hadn’t had in months, a feeling only Pablo could elicit, and one only he owned.

Endless minutes passed with you feeling as if you were weightlessly drifting through space passing indescribably beautiful nebulas and galaxies. It was a feeling one could quickly become addicted to.

“Y/N.” It was a muffled mumble.

“Y/N.”

Slowly your eyes began focusing again and slowly the image of Pablo laying across from you came into focus. A lazy smile spread across your face.

“Hi,” you whispered. You felt as if you were drunk.

“Welcome back.” His smile was wide and filled with cocky pride.

“My god, that was so good,” you slurred inching closer to him not realizing he was already close as close could be. Pablo groaned and the appendage that was still nestled inside you came alive.

“Mmm, let’s go that again,” you coaxed.

Pablo snorted as you rolled on top of him. “Are you sure you’re seeing straight sunshine?”

“I don’t need to see. I just need to—feel.” You spoke as you rocked and circled your hips on him.

Pablo moaned again. From his silence you gauged, he was focused on your body. Through hazy eyes that were slowly coming back to normal, you saw him watching you with one arm behind his head and his bottom lip lodged between his teeth.

“Are you gonna show daddy how much you missed him?”

You bit your bottom lip and excitedly nodded.

“I’ll even spell your whole entire name daddy,” you replied.

Pablo’s bottom lip slipped from his mouth, and he laid there with his mouth agape as he grasped what you meant. As your hips began with the letter P, Pablo brought his other arm behind his head and rolled his eyes to the back of his head.

“English was always my favorite subject,” he sweet-talked in the husky dominant voice that made you want to give him any and everything he wanted.

By the time the sun rose you were sure neither of you would be sated and you were looking forward to the soreness that would accompany that sunrise.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading!

#orion's belt one shot #pablo schreiber fanfiction #pablo schreiber #pablo schreiber x black reader #pablo schreiber x you #pablo schreiber x reader #black fanfiction #song inspired fic #song fic

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korgidorgi · 3 years

Text

The Avengers reactions to You getting into a fight at school

Warnings: cursing

Reader wrote to be female (pronouns are only used like once so i mean, anyone can read it ig). (Thinking I'm writing an actual fic out of this)

(idk what/where this gif is from)

(Also I don't own any of the Gifs used)

You got into a fight because some girl was being a bitch to someone you like 😏 (it can be whoever you want, irl crush, Peter, MJ, etc. your life, not mine)

You don't normally pick fights with people so this is like, a big thing for you

The bitch hit you first

You dodged her second attack

and broke her nose

You ended the fight

You ditch school and come back to the tower

Peter told Tony

Tony told everyone else

Peter saw everything go down

Fucking snitch

Don't worry, your crush helped you clean up after :) (you were bleeding a bit)

Tony:

Not too happy about hearing about it

He was passive-agressive to you when you got back to the tower, made you ✨uncomfy✨(He's scary when he's upset ok? He also lowkey has an army of robots)

He finally asks you about what happened and you tell him

Teases you about doing it to get Peter's attention (whether that's true or not, you deny it)

He's very much like a dad about the whole situation

Steve:

When he asks you about what happens, you start cursing

Comes at you about cursing

"Language."

"Sorry, BuT sTiLl!"

Crosses his arms at you, trying to be angry with you

Is secretly proud of you for standing up for someone because, he too, is a goody two-shoes and probably would have done something similar

Picks up that it may have been your crush who compelled you to do it but doesn't bring that up

Bruce:

Indirect about approaching you about it

When he does bring it up, he's a lot more calm than Tony, but gives you a mini lecture

"If that had been me approaching that situation, I never would have because the Big Guy would have probably killed them and we don't want that."

Makes sure you're ok tho

Natasha:

You can't tell if she's disappointed, proud, angry, what

She simply asks what happened, casually springing the topic on you right as your taking a sip of your favorite drink (you choke on it)

At first, she just listens intensely which scares you a bit, but is secretly proud of you that you stopped a fight with one hit (strong bby :3)

She gets you to tell her why you started bickering in the first place and you just come out and tell her about your crush

She encourages you to ask this certain someone out ;)

Clint:

Stalks you from the vents for a little bit before dropping down to interrogate you

Damn near break his nose

At first he scolds you for fighting, but loosens up

"If you were one of my kids-"

He's said too much

You weren't supposed to know he has a whole ass secret family (let's just pretend okay?)

Oh well, cat's out of the bag now

He tells you to not tell anyone what he said

Crawls back into the vent and disappears

Thor:

Isn't the best judge of scenarios like this because things are so much different on Asgard

Praises you for doing the right thing

The two of you talk about fights you've been in and the worst injuries the two of you have sustained (Thor wins that obviously)

You excitedly tell him how it felt getting hit for someone and he fangirls with you as well

He offers you alcohol (despite you being a bit young) (Do you take it?)

Tony yells from the other room

"Don't encourage her, Thor!"

Bucky:

Doesn't really approach you about it, he doesn't really talk with you much tbh (he doesn't really talk with anyone other than Steve, or younger people) (Look, idc if the timeline's screwed up)

Kinda proud you took a punch for someone tho

Gives you a thumbs-up when you pass him after talking with Steve about it

Sam:

Much like Steve, he's a bit stern with you, crossing his arms

Tells you to not do stupid shit like that (without him)

He only loosens up when you tell him that this certain someone has unconsentually stolen your heart

Won't stop teasing you about your crush but doesn't spread it to the other Avengers

Rhodey:

"You fucking what!?"

High-fives you when you tell him the story

Also encourages you about the ordeal like Thor

He's a bad influence on you

"You shouldda just gone in, hit her, and been like 'Boom, you looking for this?'"

Everyone in earshot just freezes and just blankly stares at him

"Not funny, okay. Bad joke."

Tony looks at him, daring him to encourage this behavior

Wanda:

She doesn't confront you about it, more like you race up to her and giddily tell her about it

Asks if you're okay (which you confirm)

Lowkey wants to see what it looked like

"If you want you can look in my head if you wanna see it it was sO aWeSoMe!"

Refuses your offer but looks anyways because she's curious

Nearly freaks out at your memory when you get hit

Very satisfied when you hit the bitch back though

Sees your crush that way, she'll talk with you about your crush when you bring it up later, she doesn't want to ruin your excitement

(I'm considering her a possible crush insert too now so maybe she already saw it and is like, still horrified you'd do that for her bc she doesn't think shes really worth getting sucker punched for so let's do this:)

(She's concerned that you're excited about taking a hit for her but thinks its sweet)

Peter:

He fucking SAW IT HAPPEN! (Ned saw it too)

He freaked out and helped you clean up outside before you buggered off to clean up elsewhere (with the help of your crush, unless it was him, then he leads you somewhere to help clean you up better)

Doesn't know whether to be horrified or impressed

When he tells Tony, he's screaming about what happened and is really blown away by the incident

Really worried about you afterward

Regretted telling Tony because he thought you'd kill him for it (I mean, you might ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯ )

Won't shut up about it for the next 3 weeks

Vision:

He really only brought up that you looked different

Asked if you got hurt somehow because of the bruise and cut on your face

You tell him what happened

Doesn't really understand why you of all people would get into a fight

Warns against the (obvious) results of taking physical damage

Isn't much of a supporter or disciplinary figure on this whole ordeal, very neutral

#avengers x reader #x fem reader #tony stark #marvel #fanfiction #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #vision #wanda maximoff #peter parker #sam wilsom #thor odinson #clint barton #bruce banner #bucky barnes #rhodey #headcanon

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comphersjost · 4 years

Text

All For You (4 times you tried to tell Brady you loved him, and the one time Matty did it for you) ➸ Brady Tkachuk and Matthew Tkachuk

reahi, i had an idea and opened a document and i couldnt stop writing, this is what came out. it was edited but i made a lot of changes after, so please forgive any mistakes, typos, plot holes, etc. enjoy :)

Finally fed up with pining over your best friend from afar, you enlist the help of Matthew to help you get the guy - you’re just not really sure who the guy is anymore. Or: 4 times you tried to tell Brady you loved him, and the one time Matty told him for you.

word cout: 5.1k (sorry lmao)

warnings: a LOT of angst, like a lot. smut, nothing as wild as ive written before, car sex, cockwarming, etc. etc. usual cussing, love triangles ig? alcohol, super brief mention of weed, mentions of sex while drunk/high

part two

part three

part four

part five

masterlist

You tried to take Matty’s smile and what was supposed to be an encouraging nod to heart, and let it boost your with confidence. But it didn't. It really, really didn't. You could see Brady on the other side of the room, smiling down at your mom the way he always did. It was that smile he reserved for your parents, the charming, boyish, smile. It was the same smile that got your parents to let you out of the house late in high school even though you were grounded. It was the smile you got to see sitting on your rooftop just a little too tipsy at 2 in the morning. The same smile you wished you could kiss right off his face.

Brady glances up from your mom’s face for a moment, and catches your eyes. His smile widens impossibly, and you watch him excuse himself from your mother. She smiles knowingly at you, a gentle sparkle in her eye as Brady finds his way towards you.

You latch onto him as soon as you're in his arms, pressing yourself to him, closer closer closer. “Hi,” you hear him mumble against the top of your head.

“Hi, B,” you breathe back, barely audible over the chatter in the room. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, buttercup,” Brady beams down at you, squeezing your shoulders again.

Your throat dries up as you stare up at him. You always loved the way his eyes crinkled shut when he smiled big like he was now. A tiny part of you wants to say fuck it and stand up on the tips of your toes to kiss him full on the mouth. You feel yourself swallow, your mouth opens and you want to get the words out, just like Matthew said you could.

“Listen, Brady I-”

“Y/N I want you to meet someone.”

You and Brady spoke at the same time, and rather than let you finish your sentence, Brady lets you out of his arms, resting his hand against your lower back and leading you somewhere deeper into the house.

“I want you to meet my friend,” he continues, “I know you haven't seen anyone since… but anyways, yeah I think you might like him.” Your lips remain parted, the words stuck in your throat. Of all the things you expected coming to the Tkachuk house tonight, of everything you could have thought might happen during your plan to confess your feelings to your best friend, an off-handed mention of your piece of shit ex-boyfriend and Brady attempting to set you up with someone was far from it.

Your eyes are hazy, your focus far from the situation at hand, even as you let Brady introduce you to his friend. You barely remember the poor kid’s name, too caught up in trying to keep your shit together. Your eyes find Matthew’s, hating the sympathetic smile on his lips.

You don't want his pity. It just makes you feel worse. You turn abruptly to Brady’s friend and stop him mid-sentence. “I’m really sorry,” you say, “I just don't think this is going to work out, I have my eyes on someone else.” He doesn't say anything as you walk away, bee-lining straight for Matthew.

You grab his forearm, ignoring his protests when you drag him out to the backyard.

“Why did he do that?” you say once you're outside. “Why did he introduce me to someone that I could date? What if you're wrong, Matty? What if he doesn't like me like you think he does?”

Matthew didn't have an answer for that. He did know one thing though.

“Then he’s an idiot, Y/N, and he can't see a good thing, a great thing, even when she's right in front of him.” You let out a wet laugh, trying your best not to read too deep into what Brady had tried to do tonight. Instead you let him tuck a strand behind your ear and pull you into a comforting hug, the both of you unaware of Brady’s eyes on you, a smile tugging at his lips at the thought of you two together.

II.

Ottawa playing a game against Calgary meant you had to cancel any and all plans you had for that weekend. The whole Tkachuk family couldn't make it from St. Louis, but you living in Calgary made up for it. You were shaking with excitement - you hadn't seen Brady in a month and a half, since that horrible attempt at telling him how you felt. You hoped that this time would be different.

The arms that wrap around your waist in the middle of the hotel lobby are all too familiar to alarm you.

“Hi, buttercup,” comes the soft whisper, and you can't even attempt to fight the smile that pulls at your lips.

“Hi, Brady,” you whisper back, feeling Brady loosen his hold on your so you could twist around in his grip. “You've been gone too long.”

“Hmm, I know,” Brady hums, kissing your hairline gently. “I'm sorry I'm not visiting as much, you know it has nothing to do with you right?”

“I know, Brady,” you reassure him. “I just miss you.” I love you. The thought is screaming in your head, begging for you to let out.

I love you I love you I love you

“Just say the three little words, Y/N, tell him how you feel.” Those were Matty’s words, just this morning when you had a crisis about seeing Brady again. You paced across the floor of his living room, the walls and tables all over his apartment covered in jerseys and odd paraphernalia he’d acquired over his time playing in the NHL.

“I can't, Matty, what if he,” you gasped for air at the idea, “what if he doesn't love me back, I don't think I could handle that.”

Matt had laughed at you this morning, assuring that to the best of his knowledge (and he knew his brother pretty damn well), Brady was in love with you too. Besides, he'd said, even if he wasn't in love with you back there was nothing you could do to make him want to stop being friends with you.

Brady pulls away from you, preparing to head to whatever restaurant you were supposed to meet Matthew at.

“So, Brady, there was something that I-”

“Hey, what's this?” Brady’s curious expression made you pause. He tugs the fabric of your sweater down a little by your chest, exposing your collarbone, and a dark purple mark you hadn't meant for anyone to see. Your blood runs cold, knowing exactly where that's from.

Matthew had given it to you, when the both of you had gotten just a little too wine drunk and you'd ended up in his lap. It was ironic really, you'd been discussing how to drop more hints to Brady about how you feel about him. He'd been helping you with that dilemma since the summer. And then last Sunday, you'd been over at his place for dinner, and the night had ended with him grabbing handfuls of your ass while you whined desperately against his mouth.

There was no way you could tell Brady how you felt now, not with him having just asked about the bruise his brother had left on your skin.

“You and my brother finally getting it on?” Brady says suggestively, a shit eating grin on his face as he wiggles his eyebrows at you. You feel like a deer stuck in the headlights.

“Why would you even say that?” you snap, ignoring the way he recoils, lips parted and eyes wide in surprise. “Come on we have to go meet your brother for dinner.”

III.

You and Matthew had bought your plane tickets home for Christmas together, deciding that it made more sense since you both lived in Calgary and were going home to the same neighborhood. Brady’s flight was coming in the day after. You’d been spending most of your time at the Tkachuk house, lounging around with Matthew. You’d hung around their house to stay out of your mom’s way, knowing having people around would only just stress her out as she prepared for your whole family to come home.

Today was the day Brady’s flight was coming in. Chantal and Keith chose to spend the day out shopping before heading to the airport to pick up Brady late in the afternoon. Taryn was spending the day at her friend’s house, leaving you and Matthew alone in the house.

Which, you should have known it was a bad idea. You swore it was nothing between you and Matt, you swore it was just about Matt helping you get the guy, get Brady. But it seemed like the more you, Matt, and alcohol were all involved, you ended up in precarious positions.

Today you chose not to drink, hooded eyes watching Matt take another drink of whatever liquor he’d chosen this time, before your gaze slid back to the pipe in your hand, lighter dangling between two fingers. You knew how this would end, you and Matt would get wasted, you’d fuck, rough, hard, fast, desperate, and then you would go back to pretending it never happened, went back to him helping you with getting Brady to notice your interest. You didn't talk about it, and you were almost always some kind of inhibited.

You refused to fuck Matthew in his childhood bedroom, arguing that it was bad karma. He laughed at you then, a soft laugh, clear of any indication that Matt is drunk out of his mind. The laugh is too innocent of a laugh for the way his voice lowers after it ends. He talks you into it, seduces you more like. He’s got you sliding into the backseat of a beat up old Toyota Corolla, his first car (“And how exactly is that any better than your childhood bedroom, Matty?). He tells you that you have hours alone in the house before anyone comes home and you might as well pass the time.

The talking and seducing turns into heated, sloppy kisses. You giggle against his mouth, tugging at the curls at the back of his head while avoiding the thought that you swore to yourself you would tell Brady how you felt when he got home tonight. But then Matthew’s lips trailed away from your mouth, over your jaw, your cheek, the curve of your throat, and any thought of Brady was gone.

The messy kisses turned into you riding Matt, his old car rocking back and forth as you bounced on his dick. He kisses you to quiet his moans. No one was supposed to be home for hours but, just in case. He's got you whining desperately while you clench around him, his giant hands squeezing your hips. He guides you up and down on his cock, relishing in the way your body moves the way he wants without a fight.

I bet Brady couldn't fuck you like I can.

The thought flashes through his brain before he can stop it, and then it's like someone put a red tint on his world view. You belonged to him. Matthew’s possessive rage has him fucking harder into you, his hands falling from your hips to your ass to slam you forcefully down on him. Growls fall from his lips, the thought of his younger brother fucking you making him intent on bringing you to as many orgasms as possible. That thought is also what made his teeth come down on your skin. He sucks and bites into your skin all over your chest, leaving marks that would expose that you were having sex with someone to anyone who saw - that would expose you to Brady.

You let out almost a squeal when you cum, clenching around Matthew’s cock and sobbing desperately. You don't see the smug grin on his face when he watches you cum, only letting him keep doing what he's doing because it just feels so damn good.

Matt follows through on his mental promise, fucking you through as many orgasms as he could (5, the last time he checked, he lost count). His hands flex over your ass, sighing contentedly as he pulls you so that you sink all the way back down on his cock. He pulls you to his chest, nuzzling into you as the two of you doze off.

Brady finds you that way, seeing the way you’re nuzzled into his brother’s chest through the windshield. The fact that he only saw you through the windshield protected him from seeing the most incriminating part, Matthew’s cock, still stuffed all the way inside of you. He can still see the bare skin of yours and Matt’s shoulders, so he opts out of waking you up, instead heading towards his room to shower off that airport smell and nap, a devastatingly pretty blonde attached to his hip.

When you wake up, you feel groggy, but more sober than before. After you moaned pathetically when Matthew lifted you off of his cock, the two of you snuck back inside the house, managing to get you out the door and back to your house, and Matthew to his room. When you and your family made their way over for dinner later that night (the hickies and bruises on your skin successfully covered up), you feel your heart twist in your chest at what - or rather, who - greets you there.

“Y/N! Hey!” Brady sounds so excited, so you humor him, hiding the way it feels like you're about to explode into a million little shreds. “This is my girlfriend, Autumn.”

And - you really can't hate her. She's so nice, so incredibly kind and radiant and you really don't blame Brady for not taking his eyes off her the whole night. You didn't even know he was bringing her. Matthew catches your eyes, shaking his head sadly and mouthing I didn’t know.

You shrug, your gaze falling back to the design on the carpet, how the spirals of each shape in the carpet almost mirror your heart, spiraling out and falling apart before your eyes.

Matt’s gaze remains on you. Something about seeing your skin clear and bare after he had taken such good care to leave as many marks as possible didn't sit right with him. It made his gut twist; he wanted everyone to know. He wanted Brady to know.

You hate the unpleasant feeling in your gut every time Autumn says something. And you really hate the way Brady smiles apologetically at you when you pulled him aside to say “You never told me you were seeing someone.”

You just had to get through this night and then it was back to Calgary.

IV.

Of all traditions your family has with Tkachuks, the vacations are your favorite.

You're in California this offseason, renting a house in some random, tourist-attracting beach town. Both your families had always done something similar to this (letting the boys take care of a large chunk of it now that they're on NHL salaries), renting 2 houses and splitting you up between the parents and you and the Tkachuk kids once you were old enough.

Brady had broken up with Autumn in May, which you couldn't be more thankful for, knowing that had that not happened she would've been on this vacation. “Nothing terrible happened,” he assured you over the phone that day. “She's an amazing girl, she really is, she's just...she's not the one for me.”

You were glad he couldn't see the smile that pulled at your lips at those words.

As for Matthew...well, you'd barely done as much as look at him since Christmas, not wanting to fall back into the habit of sleeping with him whenever you managed to get drunk enough to forget Brady’s existence for half a second.

But now Brady and Taryn are at the beach, meeting up with some friends they somehow convinced to drive up from Orange County, and you were laying outside in the rented house’s backyard on one of the pool chairs. You’d opted to stay home this time, having spent almost every minute of this vacation attached to Brady at the hip.

It was pathetic, almost, the way you followed him around. Matt thought so, at least. What he thought was even more pathetic though, was the way Brady had the perfect fucking woman in front of him - pining after him even - and he still couldn't see it, no matter how hard you and Matt tried to make him.

Matt hates that he finds himself wishing that the whiny voice you used to get Brady to do things you wanted was following him around instead, like the incessant bug he'd teased you about being when you whined for the millionth time to Brady that it was hot.

Brady had looked at you all soft in the moment, leaning down to kiss your forehead before placing his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into him. “Not hot enough for you not to cuddle with me,” he’d said, your giggles prompting him to tickle your sides until you'd both forgotten about your complaining.

“Y/N, you left your water bottle outside,” Matthew says abruptly, adding on a “by the way” so you two would stop staring at him like he interrupted something. Like he wasn't even supposed to be there.

“Oh,” the realization makes you frown, and the pout that accompanies your furrowed brows almost make him combust from how cute you look. “Didn't know you noticed I left it out there.”

Brady keeps his arm around you as he lets you take him back outside for the water bottle, making you miss the way Matt whispers “I always notice.”

You briefly wondered what Matthew was doing, before the question was answered for you by a soft sensation against your knee. His lips trailed up your thigh, nosing at your skin before pressing another open-mouthed kiss into your thigh, making your eyes flutter open briefly. It's hot, your skin feels like it's on fire, buzzing, like you're vibrating from the inside out.

Even with the sun washing over you the way that it is, the fire you feel on your tanned skin, Matthew’s lips make you burn. He makes you ache, the way he hasn't touched you like this in months.

“Everyone is gone for the day,” he murmurs against you, kisses becoming more frequent across your hips. “All of them. I could fuck you and make you scream and no one would know.” His words make you shudder, your back arching as his lips traveled upwards, teeth coming out to mark you up all over your tits. “So pretty like this baby, when I mark you up like that.”

You know that if you don't stop him now, Matt will get you in his bed - he would get you in his bed and then from there he'd take you apart with his fingers, his cock, his mouth. Then he’d use that same damn mouth that got you into bed with him to talk you into staying there. And as much as you love Brady… you can't resist him. You place your hand on his shoulder, his skin is warm, and it takes everything out of you to push him away.

“Matty, stop, Matthew, stop it.” Suddenly you can feel the sun back on your skin, Matthew having retreated from you completely.

“What's wrong?” he says softly, “Please, what did I do?”

“Nothing,” you lie, closing your eyes again so you wouldn't have to look at him as you say your next words. “I'm telling Brady how I feel. Tonight. No matter what happens I’m telling him tonight.”

“Oh. Good luck, then, I guess.” That's all Matthew says, then there's a shuffling noise and silence. Then the slam of the sliding door to the kitchen.

You shift uncomfortably and turn your thoughts back to Brady.

It’s later, when you’re curled up against Brady’s chest with a random movie playing on tv that you get cold feet. It’s just you and him, on the couch of the first floor of the house. Matthew is God knows where, and Taryn still hadn't gotten back from her friend’s house. This moment on the couch with him is perfect, it feels so domestic. You don't want to ruin this moment by telling him how you feel, and potentially - probably - being rejected.

You promised yourself.

You take a deep breath, ready to blurt out those three little words, and then -

“So, you and my brother huh?” Brady murmurs, eyes remaining trained on the action scene on the screen in front of him. “I know you got defensive last time I mentioned it but you guys are good together, and I'm glad you finally see it.”

You feel like you can't breathe, your throat choking up. You want to cry, yell, scream, something to just let him know that you love him.

“Actually, Brady -”

“Hey, don't worry it’s okay,” Brady laughs, reassuring you and pulling you closer to squeeze you. “I promise, I've seen you with him, and I think you guys are good together, don't worry about it.” You fall silent, not really knowing how to work your way out of this one.

“We’re not together,” you say quietly, and you had the way Brady’s hum of acknowledgment sounds like he doesn't believe you. You give up on telling him tonight.

The expression on Brady’s face drops when he meets your eyes across the table. You were just so tired. And you knew that he could see it in your face. What with work absolutely kicking your ass, to the point where you were barely able to get this week off to come home to St. Louis. It’s the end of summer, which means you and Brady were about to go through months of hectic schedules and voicemails that say “Hey, sorry I just missed your call, life has been crazy lately.” Your gaze falls from the lines of Brady's face to the seat at his right side.

Autumn smiles at you, and you hate the way the warmth that radiates from her feels like a knife twisting deeper into your gut. You hate yourself for how much you hate Autumn, you know she doesn't deserve it. Brady catches your eye again, a brief flash of recognition sliding across his face before it's gone. You'd been avoiding him for the past three days since you got here, and you almost felt guilty for it.

Matt’s hand gripping your thigh draws your attention away from Brady. He squeezes your thigh, smiling reassuringly at you and bumping your shoulder gently. It’s when Autumn finally stands from the table, smiling sweetly at Keith and Chantal, that you release the breath you'd been holding in all night. Brady says he's going to walk her out, a car waiting for her outside to take her to the airport back to Ottawa.

You don't fight it when Matthew tells you to head downstairs and he and Taryn could take care of the cleaning up. You curl up on the couch in the basement, stealing Matt’s Flames hoodie off the back of a chair and a blanket from the closet. Your eyes flutter shut to the muted noises of the dishes clinking together.

You let your eyes flutter closed, only opening them again when you feel a warm heat slide in beside you. You hum when Matt kisses your temple softly.

“You okay?” he nudges you gently, stealing the end of your blanket to cover his legs.

“Yeah, just tired,” you mumble back, voice muffled by the pillow your face is half-buried in. You know Matthew knows better than to believe your blatant lie, but you're okay with the way he chooses to move past it and not make you talk about it.

The two of you lounge on the couch silently, Matt switching on some Netflix show he’d been watching after you heard Taryn say she was going to bed. You tried not to think about how long Brady was taking upstairs with Autumn.

They'd gotten back together over the summer, she’d reached out to him before he left for the off season, which he failed to mention until it was nearly over. Against both yours, Matthew’s, and Taryn’s advice, Brady had bought a plane ticket back to Ottawa, saying that he might as well give it a shot.

Matthew had held you when you cried that night, Taryn bringing the two of you water and food when it was clear you weren't leaving his room, much less his arms.

He wanted to hold you right now too, god how he wanted to hold you. But he couldn't, not with Brady due back any second from waiting out front for Autumn's ride. He couldn't risk Brady seeing the two of you, not again.

Brady had made comments here and there about Matt’s relationship with you. No matter how much Matt insisted that the two of you weren't involved, Brady wasn't convinced, insisting that he was okay with it.

But right now, in this moment, he wanted to believe him. Matt’s hands ached to touch you, hold you, draw patterns on your skin, he yearned for it. He wanted - he needed to make sure that you knew that everything was going to be okay. Just as his resolve starts to crumble, his hands twitching in his lap as he begins to reach for you, a voice comes from the stairs.

“We should talk - right?” Brady is talking to you, making you open your eyes to look at him. “Like - things are weird, have been weird, and we have to talk about it right?”

You nodded silently, shifting in your spot so that you're sitting up, any physical contact you had with Matt now lost. “Yeah,” your voice comes out small, a whisper, and then stronger, firmer. “Yeah, we need to talk.”

This is it.

The silence in the room is almost unbearable, and you're unable to choke the words out. Brady stares at you, while you stare down at your hands. Matt refuses to look at either of you, gaze trained on the wall behind the TV, jaw clenched so tightly that if your eyes were on him you'd tell him he was about to break his teeth.

“Is this about you and Matt?” The words come out of nowhere, and it feels like you've been slapped.

“What?” Matt’s head snaps towards Brady, as does yours.

“No, really,” Brady says, “Did you guys break up oh something?

“What are you talking about Brady?” You can't stop the frustration from seeping into your voice. “That's not what this is -”

“‘Cause you know I’m okay with you guys together,” Brady continues obliviously, “I keep telling both of you that it's fine but I don't get why you insist on-”

“Oh my god you idiot!” Matt’s outburst shuts Brady up pretty quickly, leaving the younger brother staring at him with wide eyes and an open mouth. Matt looks at you and his eyes are sad, regret and apologies already written all over his face for what he's about to say next. “She's in love with you.”

He speaks so quietly you almost don't hear the second part of his statement.

“And I’m in love with her.”

Time screeches to a halt. You're convinced it's a dream, nearly pinching yourself to prove that it is. Brady is staring at Matt now, and you're staring at the ground.

“You're lying.” You don't believe the words you're saying either, and neither do Matt and Brady.

“I love you.” He's telling the truth, you can hear it in his voice.

“Stop.”

“I love you and you love him.”

“Stop it!”

“I love you, and, fuck - Y/N, it’s simultaneously the best and worst thing that’s ever fucking happened to me.”

“Please! Matty, please! Just stop!”

“Is he telling the truth?” This time it’s Brady. His voice quivers with every word. Like he doesn’t want it to be true. “You're in love with me?”

You wrap your arms around your torso, squeezing your eyes shut and hoping - praying - that when you opened your eyes, this would all be over and you'd wake up in your bed. But when you opened your eyes again, you were still on the couch in the Tkachuk’s basement, blanket tangled between you and Matt.

“You should have let me tell him,” you say to Matt, ignoring Brady’s question, still lingering in the air. “I wanted to be the one to tell him, you knew that.”

“Well, he hasn't been letting you, now has he?” Matt snaps back at you, the regret showing up on his face almost instantaneously. “Baby…”

The name slips out on accident, he doesn't mean to say, and he sure as hell doesn't mean for Brady to hear it.

“Okay, what the hell is going on here?” Brady finally yells, fed up with being kept in the dark. “What the fuck are you guys talking about?”

“I don't-” you start to say, trying to say it before Matt does.

“She loves you, okay?” Matt grabs your hand for a moment when he starts to speak, giving it a squeeze before taking his own hand back again. “She loves you in more than a friend way, and we’ve spent nearly the last year trying to get her to tell you but every time - every time Brady! - some stupid shit happens, like you trying to hook her up with someone, or - oh, I don't know - randomly springing your girlfriend on us!”

“That was one time!” Brady argues, “Besides you were the only one who knew Autumn was coming, why are you even mad?” You flinch at the mention of her name, but freeze at what comes after.

“What?”

Matt looks like he's been caught red handed - and he has, really. He just didn't mean for you to find out this way. He didn't mean for you to find out any of this the way that you just did.

“I can explain -”

“Please don't,” you stand up just as Matt is reaching for you. “I don't want an explanation. I don't - I just want to - I’m going home.”

While Brady doesn’t even look at you, Matt nearly lunges for you when you walk away from the couch. Walk away from him. He hates the way the thought stings. He barely manages to brush his fingertips against the red fabric of his hoodie before you're halfway up the stairs and the door to the basement slams shut.

#n e wayz #matthew tkachuk #matty tkachuk #ratthew!!!!!#brady tkachuk #ottawa senators #calgary flames #hockey #imagine #smut #nhl #4+1

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homoose · 3 years

Note

omg your teacher!spencer HC got me thinking and imagine a school AU where all the characters are different teachers

hotch is the principal

spencer could be a high school chemistry teacher or an elementary teacher (honestly he could teach anything he wants lol)

jj is an elementary teacher

derek is a coach

emily is a languages teacher

and so on...

OOOH YAH (teacher!spencer hc here) were gonna say this is like a K-12 school just because...

Hotch: total principal, are you kidding? no other character has ever principaled quite as hard; comes off very boring and stern, but has a huge soft spot for the trouble makers and is lowkey an amazing mentor; runs one of those young gentlemen’s groups where he teaches them how to tie their ties and shit; coaches the debate team; travels to all the classrooms throughout the year as a guest reader and is surprisingly great at story voices

Gideon: chaotic AP that actually doesn’t really help at all— half the time Hotch isn’t even sure where he is; usually letting kids get away with shit because he thought it was pretty clever; helps with the senior prank

Rossi: replaces Gideon as AP when he retires and doesn’t do much better; always in his office; when kids get in trouble they have to come to him first— only the most severe offenses go to Hotch— so he deals with a lot of kids who get caught with like cigs or other contraband and always “confiscates” it; the kids love him bc he’s hilarious and also bc he knows a lot of pop culture that they’re into

Derek: could go either way for me— either he’s the gym teacher who takes it a little too seriously, OR he’s the English teacher who uses Nas and Tupac in his poetry unit; either way, definitely coaches after school; he’s a favorite among the kids for sure— he jokes around constantly, has a secret handshake for every kid; talks to them on their level, and always lets them play games at the end of the day (around the world, heads up seven up, etc)

Spencer: already talked about this in my hc but he’s just the best teacher; not afraid to be a total weirdo/goofball; very conscious and supportive of different learning styles and preferences; has the most ambient classroom; his students are always the smartest in the whole damn building because he reads up on every single teaching strategy and knows how to utilize them to best support his kids

JJ: elementary teacher for sure; she’s a Pinterest/IG teacher thru and thru— like her classroom is aesthetically perfect (organized, labeled, color-coded) and she probably has an essential oil diffuser or something; she definitely plays with the kids at recess— either kicking the soccer ball around, playing tag, jumping rope, or just laying in the grass and chatting in the sunshine

Penelope: she replaces the stuffy old tech teacher who spent 5 weeks forcing everyone to learn intermediate excel; at first the kids are like 👀 because Penny G is bright— but on the first day she has them all design their own websites and everyone immediately loves her; teaches them to code; runs an after school “tech club” which is literally just hacking skills 101

Emily: absolutely the languages teacher; also, a hot mess; the complete opposite of JJ— her classroom is literally just the furniture that was provided by the school and like three posters that JJ forced her to hang up bc “jesus Em it looks like a prison in here.” the kids don’t really care— they love her bc she just gets them and she’s always got snacks; also regales them with stories and pictures from all of her travel and years abroad; definitely organizes and chaperones various Europe trips and exchange student programs

Tara: the teacher that does not give a single fuck about what anyone thinks about her style abd methods; teaches some type of social science, maybe sociology; loves her kids and knows they can handle tough/weighty conversations; facilitates many debates and mostly manages to stay neutral; kids hang out in her classroom after school; definitely teaches older kids; very sarcastic with them and they love it

Luke: socially a himbo, academically a nerd; teaches chemistry and makes it super accessible and easy to grasp; always eating in the lab even though it’s against his own rules; his favorite day of the year is the ice cream in a bag day; brings Roxy to work with him occasionally and the kids are obsessed

Matt: definitely teaches some type of history or social studies; always has coffee (he has five kids of his own, he’s exhausted); he’s really into the presidents for some reason and knows like all kinds of random facts about them (like the Taft bathtub fiasco and that Zachary Taylor shat himself to death); coaches cross country or swimming and won’t shut up about it

Stephen: the guidance counselor; literally just the nicest human on the planet; will let you sit in his office and cry any time; writes extremely heartfelt recommendation letters for college apps; has a candy drawer and a collection of stress balls

Blake: definitely everyone’s teacher mom; genuinely loves and cares for every student and they keep in touch with her after they graduate; also teaches English and she and Derek are BFF; they run a literary magazine club after school and do a slam poetry night in the cafeteria; gets a lot of “you changed the course of my life” letters

Kate: the cool teacher; she’s an adult, but she’s still in the know about everything the kids like; has a fun teacher Tik Tok account; uses her clout with the kids to influence their decision making aka gets all the gossip so that she can surreptitiously counsel and educate her kids about being safe and advocating for themselves— in online/social media spaces and beyond

#homoose answers #homoose headcannons #again this got long af #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds au

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lcnelyinthesky · 3 years

Text

admiration - tsukishima kei

a/n: okay hi?? im ellie?? heres this??? i worked on it for like four? days?on and off? and its longer than any oneshot ive written but yk shes cute ig. pls be nice pls enjoy... but also my last piece got 2 notes and im really hopin in not shadowbanned here lmao

genre: fluff, angst, rivals to lovers!!

pairing: bisexual!female!reader x tsukishima kei (yes bi reader its a vibe)

warnings: a break up with a beautiful woman i made up myself, swearing

word count: 3.7k (ahhhh!!)

enjoy!! :D

Elementary second year. Your newly-assigned seat was next to a much taller, blond kid. He was smart and bright, rivaling the sun in terms of unbridled joy. Now, none of that can be seen by eight year old eyes, but looking back and comparing, it's easy to spot that he changed.

Tsukishima Kei was an excitable kid, just as everyone was, but he was still snarky; his arrogance seemed to be something that just festered within his soul, no matter the trauma that brought it out.

Childlike wonder is still alive and well at eight.

The teacher you had back then was quite rude. She was pushy and angry, and she assigned way too much homework. Everything she uttered made you huff in disappointment, crossing your arms and hoping for some sort of reaction from someone. The kid next to you was named Koji--or, at least, that's what you called him. He was your best friend, spending every moment with you like you were siblings. You'd be able to crack a joke with the smallest glance and you’d talk constantly. As soon as your handwriting was legible to people of your age group, you'd pass notes back and forth and cackle at their contents. Until, of course,

“Tsukishima, will you switch seats with Kojikata today?” Your teacher sounded exhausted, huffing her sentence out on a sigh before going back to the multiplication tables on the board. Suddenly, your little world was interrupted.

“Y/N, right?” He didn’t look at you, placing his folders down on the desk and pushing his glasses back up as he sat. His words were hushed and quiet, but the class had moved into individual work--he wasn’t interrupting anyone.

“Yeah. Can I call you Tsukki?” You were angry, gripping your pencil tighter in your little hand as you wrote numbers down on white paper. One times one is one. Two times two is four. This is easy.

“No,” he was long doing the same thing, but writing quicker than you. That’s how it is, huh?

Three times two is six. Four times five is twenty. Six times three is eighteen. Five times six is thirty. This is easy-

“Miss, I’m done.” His voice was always so dry. Uninterested.

Four times three is twelve. “Me too!” Your hand shot up with the paper in it, sending a death glare at the boy next to you.

That's how it is, huh?

This pattern continued for weeks. Tsukishima didn’t move from his seat next to you, as your teacher had made the realization that you worked far harder without friends around. Tsukishima lit a competitive fire under you; everything was now a race.

It started with handing in assignments. Who would go up to the front desk first to have their work checked over? Who would finish this quiz faster? Then it transferred into everything.

Who would get to class faster? Who finished their lunch quicker? Who could read faster? Who scored higher on spelling tests? Who could run faster in gym class?

And then it was middle school.

Middle school brought in Yamaguchi Tadashi.

It'd be an understatement to say he warmed to Yamaguchi quickly, but the basis behind that was strange. Tsukishima was never one for friends, even though everyone wanted to be friends with him. He was cool in the eyes of a handful of eleven year olds; letting everything roll off your back seemed to be an admirable trait. Yamaguchi worshipped him, and Tsukishima took him under his wing to teach him the ropes of being a cool kid.

At heart, though, Yamaguchi was kind and attentive. He could tell when things were going wrong, and supposedly it was him that changed the rest of your life.

The rivalry continued just as it had in elementary, just with higher stakes. You'd fight for answering questions first, working ahead of everyone else to just beat him. He’d never bat an eye at it, and sometimes you thought it was all over, but then

“Y/N.” Tsukishima Kei stood three steps behind you, looming over you with the height he was seemingly born with. The hallway was emptying by now, kids walking into their classrooms once again. The white floors rung with the quiet sounds of soft-bottomed shoes and a light above your head flickered calmly.

“Yeah?” You spun around to meet his gaze.

“What’d you get on that lit essay?”

“A 96. Why?”

“No reason,” he smirked and tilted his head up, looking down at you, “I got a 100.”

A huff and a stomp away gave him the answer he needed as he followed you into the classroom, sitting down behind you and next to Yamaguchi just as he did every day. The little shit.

Tsukishima was never better than you, technically speaking. On average and on paper, you were always both roughly the same. You'd fight for being top of the class, the position switching between both of you every day. You excelled in creative things while he excelled at sports, but both of you dabbled in the other. When people in your year began dating, everyone came to assume you two were. It was embarrassing, really, because Tsukishima Kei was a little shit know-it-all who will never beat me at anything ever and people need to stop thinking he will because he won’t I’m better than hi-

“Hey?” Oh right. Friends.

“Koji!” He never left, at least not yet. His nimble fingers tapping on your shoulder brought you back to reality, making you jump and turn around to face him, wrapping your arms around his body for a split second.

“You looked zoned” his face was riddled with concern that was easy to write off.

“Oh, whoops” a small blush heated your cheek as your hand migrated to rub your neck. “Did you want something?”

As you walked into the classroom a bit further, Koji sat on your right; he seemed to buckle down more when you had moved away from each other way back in the day, so there were less mid-class comedy shows. He grew up just as you had, and with the closeness of the two of you people began to think you were dating. At twelve, it was incredibly necessary to date someone--anyone. Theories bounced from everywhere and anywhere and with you it was either your best friend or your biggest rival. Your lack of attraction to either of them became the center of many late night crises.

“Not particularly,” his gaze switched from you to the board again, beginning to write something down when he turned his head. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah! Of course I am,” you smiled at him, the kind of smile that made your eyes crinkle at the corners, and suddenly it was high school.

“Tsukishima is really cute! And he's smart, I heard that Kageyama wasn’t too bright somewhere.”

“But Kageyama’s so much hotter! His being a little dumb sometimes is endearing.”

“Are we not going to talk about that third year setter, Sugawara?”

“No, he’d never go for a first year. Besides, that Hinata kid is more of an enigma.”

“Have you even seen them play?” A howl of angry “yes”s fell over the crowd, trying to prove something. None of them had ever seen them play.

That asshole Tsukishima getting popular felt like a stab in the soul. None of them knew him or how much he sucked, but the amount of girls fawning over him was horrific.

There's something consistently poetic about young love, no matter where it comes from. Something extra sweet about holding pinkies in school corridors when no one is looking and seeing them every day, smiling loudly as the sun broke over the horizon all bright and early. The raging hormones and dumb, fake social hierarchies of fifteen make emotions run wild, and only the deeply immature end up helplessly infatuated. Others are more cautious, but there's only so many precautions one can take at fifteen. Sometimes some of us just want to be loved, no matter the sincerity of it.

Cared for, and whatnot. No harm in that, in the long run at least.

“Y/N, right?” Her name was Mei. She was in your class; 1-4, just like Tsukishima. She was pretty. Long, black hair was preceded by two green streaks at the front. She’d always have those down, making her features look like a photo in a perfect frame. She had a collection of hair clips with small shapes on them that she’d have somewhere on her person at all times. Her more mid-sized body was paler than most, and she was covered in freckles and moles. Her eyes were an unusual shade of blue that looked deep enough to swim in. Her cheeks were always stained with a peachy blush that moved up her collarbones and into her ears, making her look like she was always smiling no matter what her face was doing. Karasuno’s school uniform did wonders for her curves, the skirt swaying up on occasion and making her look so damn perfect.

“Yeah! You’re…” a second of dumbfounded pause felt like years in your mind, coming to the conclusion that she was the most beautiful girl you had ever met. “Ojiro Mei?”

“Yep! I just wanted to tell you you looked really pretty today!” Her voice always had an upward inflection, and was higher than most. It was cute. Incredibly cute.

“Oh.” A moment of confidence fell over you like you weren’t in control of your actions, “you’re beautiful.”

“Thank you very much,” she bounced back on her toes and then rolled back to her heels, hands intertwined behind her back, “You’re too kind, Y/N.” Her sentences were always punctuated with an eye-crinkling smile.

Later that day, you found her on every social media account you could; she messaged you first.

When you don’t know you’re interested in women, it’s hard to notice that they’re flirting with you, but after a handful of supposed gay panic, you asked her on a date.

She was two inches shorter than you, and somehow that persisted no matter what shoes she was wearing. Every small outing with her felt like cloud nine--watching the sunset, small conversation over tea at a nearby cafe, cuddling in your bedroom with only a string of Christmas lights on. She always looked so wonderful in soft lighting, the potential cold of winter disappeared with pale beiges that made her freckles look like stars. Every action Mei ever did was soft and full of care. She could send every single emotion through her fingertips on your jaw, deepening a kiss you started moments before. She was like magic, until she wasn't anymore.

You supposed, when thinking back, that things fell out around month thirteen. The rose colored lenses everything was viewed through faded a bit, and it's easy to notice her pulling away. There were less late night phone calls and less recommended music and less hands running through your hair. Everything has a natural progression to the end, right?

“Do you still feel it?” It was raining. Large drops of water fell down to the floor, smacking the pavement at speeds you couldn’t even try to measure. She was wearing a bright yellow raincoat that looked almost dull in the four pm light.

“Feel what?”

“Anything, baby.” All of her words ended with a huffed out sigh, like she was tired of something. Lying, maybe.

You pondered the question, and it seemed like your hesitation gave her all the answer she needed.

“Ya know, Y/N.” She looked down and grabbed your hands with hers, rubbing her thumbs on your palms as you grabbed around them. “This was fun. We had a good run.”

A solemn tear fell down your cheek at the ending, but there was no use in self pity or anger now. She was so sweet and kind, and it's truly unthinkable how she continued that kindness in the end.

“Yeah. A good run.” The pink in your cheeks grew as you choked out a laugh, pulling her in for one final hug under the dim fluorescent lights on the front door overhang of the school.

Fifteen came and went with love, and when sixteen rolled around you wondered if you’d ever be loved like that again.

A spirit can't be broken overnight, and if you’ve spent the last eight years of your life having a strong, consistent rivalry with someone, it won’t leave any time soon. Tsukishima and you were on similar playing fields for most of your life, but you had one thing he didn’t: relationship experience. In that way, you always counted yourself one point higher, like a boy scout badge.

For a spell, however, your intensity changed. There was nothing more driving you than spite, and there was nothing you wanted more than to beat him. You were well into your second year of high school at this point, and--volleyball notwithstanding--you had wins over Tsukishima. You had seen him play volleyball, every match in his second year, and you deemed he was simply okay. You refused to count his success onto the list of wins for both of you.

June fifteenth. Tournaments were coming up around the corner when it happened, which explained every reason why he was there. You weren’t exactly prepared for the rain, so the best bet seemed to be sitting at the front entrance of Karasuno High School and wallowing in a little bit more self pity before you went home. You were just dumped after all, the tears weren’t done falling.

The feeling between sadness and shame overflowed you, shades of yellowish green painting the world around you and churning your gut into oblivion. And the tears fell. It felt like a scene in a movie; in a few seconds, a strong, capable man would show up to your rescue.

“Y/N?” what the fuck?

He was sweaty. His face was matte from a light film of saltwater. He had a grey umbrella over his head, keeping himself dry from the still-pelting rain. His six-foot-two frame was covered with a black tracksuit, and he still had his sports goggles on.

Those fucking sports goggles.

“Tsukishima.” you deadpanned, trying to get him away as fast as possible. His words were snarky, as always, but this time laced with concern. Like he actually cared.

“What are you still doing here? It’s almost six,” he stood under the overhang with you, crouching to take a few feet off of his incredible height.

“Sulking?”

“Ah,” he huffed and sat down next to you, “it’s not great for your posture, ya know.”

“Oh shut up, Tsukishima.”

“Remember when we were eight,” he looked up, studying the moths as they flew around the lights on the ceiling, “and you asked if you could call me Tsukki?”

“Vaguely, but we were eight.”

“Yeah, true” his head dramatically fell to his lap, staring at his knees as he chuckled, “but you can. Call me Tsukki, that is.”

An uncomfortable laugh fell from your lips, and he spoke for you, “this one kid, Koganegawa, the setter on Date Tech, calls me that too. It's not a Tadashi-only nickname anymore.”

“You say Tadashi-only like I wasn’t there first.”

“He never asked.”

“Would you have said no?”

“Probably” he hasn’t actually looked at you yet.

“Should I not have asked?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Okay, Tsukki” you drew out the last letter, giggling at the situation before you had time to think about your emotions.

He noticed that you weren’t crying anymore and helped you stand, grabbing your hand and pulling you up. Tsukishima and you lived closer than you thought, walking the same direction and only splitting up seconds away from your home.

You walked in silence the whole time, but it was comfortable. While he was your rival, he was always a friend. There was nothing scary or intimidating about him, as is with most people when you’ve known them forever; it was almost like his facade just didn’t work on you. You were huddled close to him to stay out of the rain.

The second you parted ways, you ran home. The rain was more of a drizzle now, but the temperature began a free fall--getting out of the cold as fast as possible was your first priority. Upon entering the front door and taking off your shoes and jacket, leaving everything to sit in the entryway, you took a shower. The rain didn’t do enough to wash away the pain of the day, and warm steam would let the rest evaporate. The expected unrelenting sadness wasn’t really present as much as was expected, though. Everything felt fine. Content. Okay.

And it continued that way. He sent you a snapchat asking if you had gotten home safely, which prompted a memory of you never giving each other your phone numbers. After a quick yes, tsukki. no need to worry ;), you sent him your number asking to play some game.

Whatever is meant to happen does, right? Any excuse for falling for him. You didn’t want to, of course, but things happen. Time changes. Thus, the excuses. Thus, the ignorance. Thus, the five stages of grief.

It started with the denial, because no Y/N you can’t like Tsukishima Kei. He’s so competitive and mean and snarky and horrible and you hate him! Then, the anger, because Tsukishima sucks and he’s horrible and you’re going to punch him in his stupid cute face. Next, the bargaining, because please don’t let this be happening you’ll do anything to lose these feelings, even if it means letting him win at something. Going into the depression, because all you’ve ever wanted was to be free of this assclown and now you’re stuck thinking about him at three in the morning when you’re supposed to be dreaming about anything other than him. And finally, acceptance, when you scowl at him in the hallway because fuck, you like Tsukishima Kei.

The worst bit of acceptance is getting over it. Now you had to confront your feelings. Now you needed to tell him.

It was roughly five months since he found you sulking on school grounds, and you regretted most days the way you let him text you every morning. It’d always be something stupid, like a joke about the novel you were reading in lit or sometimes he’d tell you, off hand, something dumb Hinata and Kageyama did at practice. Sometimes he’d text you, within the first twenty minutes of the school day, pointing out something little you did with your hair. They were never really compliments as much as comments; he’d say “your socks have a pink ring at the top” and give you nothing to work with from there. A simple yes would suffice, you always supposed, because “yes, tsukki. they do.”

He’d linger at his desk during the break between classes and would stay there if you didn’t leave, but would leave a few steps behind you if you did. He wouldn’t follow you, but he’d watch to know where you were going. Everything he did was concealed though--you'd only notice if you really wanted to know.

Yamaguchi was the only one to notice, even after a while of it. You’ll never know what he said to his friend, but the conversation you had with the aforementioned friend a day later gives some guesses.

“Y/N?” Tsukishima was never the shy type, and you knew him in the days where everyone was shy. He wasn’t loud, but he was bold. His words were always pointed and important. Everything he did always had purpose and intensity behind it.

“Tsukki?” You were sitting under a tree, enjoying the late spring weather of the beginning of your third year. Nothing became intense yet classwork wise, so there was ample time to chill on the school grounds. Overlooking the soccer field was a large oak tree. It was big enough to comfortably have multiple groups of people under its shade, but it was empty at the moment; save for you and the book you were reading.

“I was just wondering if you’d like to maybe go out sometime?” He somehow didn’t pause while talking, but his words came out more something akin to word vomit. You we’re more shocked than you should have been, if you had picked up on the signs. But you were feeling the same as he was, as far as you could tell.

“Sure, when?” You looked back down at your book for a second, placing the bookmark in it and folding the pages shut.

Tsukishima looked dumbfounded, standing there with his eyes bugged out and his mouth slightly agape. He started making unintelligible babbling noises, hoping to get something out that had any meaning at all. You took the reins instead, gaining confidence in his lack thereof.

“I was planning on getting coffee or something today after school. It gets really cold at night now, huh?”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

“Would you like to join me?”

“There's a break before practice today so” he hesitated, letting the pink in his cheeks finally catch up to the beating in his chest. “Sure.”

You wouldn’t have ever pegged Tsukishima Kei as the flustered type.

There was never a drop in conversation, as there never really was between you two. A whole life together and you still had things to talk about, mentioning everything from your individual childhoods to recent developments. Turns out he never knew what genre of books were your favorite. Or what kind of music you listened to. Or what any of your hobbies were.

Turns out you both had more in common than you thought, competitive spirits notwithstanding. Tsukishima Kei was a strange man in every sense of the word. He was arrogant and snarky and disinterested and bright and passionate and smart. He was your rival, smug look plastered on his smug face making your chest bubble in anger just as it had a million times before--or was that admiration this time? The world may never know.

All that was real right now was the deck of cards on the table, being separated out into a card game both of you learned as kids. The small, round, cafe table shook with every slap of your hands, but the basis of your relationship would always be competition. It's just that now the anger behind that competition was gone. All that was left was admiration.

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sombreboy · 4 years

Text

Wedding night⇢kth x jjk

⇢18+ ⇢pairing: Taehyung x Jungkook ⇢genre: Smut, fluff, mxm ⇢word count: 12.7k ⇢warnings: profanity which is mostly Tae cursing like a sailor, dirtytalk, drinking, dom!kth, sub!jjk, koo sucks tae off in a taxi lmao, slight cockwarming in koo's little throat?, more oral cuz Koo is cockhungry as hell, DADDY KINK, Tae eats Koo's ass like a fuckin champ, light choking ig but its with luv, anal (as always, this is fictional, use lube- koo loves when tae destroys his ass)

A/N: Serves as an ‘after story’ within the Love Maze series AU, however can also be read on it’s own.

“Damn, Tae.” Hoseok whistled, messing with the younger’s formal, silk bow tie whilst Taehyung examined his reflection through the mirror; set out to dismiss his hyung’s side comments, no matter how uplifting.

He was nervous— as he was expected to be. It was Taehyung’s wedding day, and although he’d been dying of excitement days prior, now that he stood in his assigned dressing room; his heart was racing . Of course he was thrilled to be marrying Jungkook--he wouldn’t have proposed to the man if he wasn’t 100% sure. But.. still . It was an important milestone in their life--Taehyung wanted it to be perfect.

“Jungkook’s jaw is going to hit the floor!” Jin’s elated voice joined in from his spot on the couch, where he sipped on a martini; legs crossed as if he was relaxing by the beach, living his best life.

“I can just imagine the look on his face.” Namjoon playfully squeezed Tae’s tense shoulders, grinning at the anxious man through the full-length mirror. Taehyung simply shrugged him off, grimacing as if Joon’s touch stung. “Hyungs.. can you be quiet? I’m trying to think.”

Namjoon stepped away from Tae, hands raised in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. I just can’t believe it— that you guys are getting married, that is.”

At that, an awkward smile tugged at Taehyung’s lips. He couldn’t believe it either; it felt like a dream. Tae didn’t regret getting down on one knee at all, he wanted Jungkook for the rest of his life. Some might think they’d been taking it too fast— or are in a hurry to secure their future; but this was what felt right to the both of them. They’d been dating for five years now, making Taehyung twenty-three; a young adult whose life was only beginning— supposedly. But that was the furthest thing from the truth. No matter how cheesy it sounded, Tae’s life began when he met Kook, his husband-to-be. He wanted to be married to the guy, to be able to call him his husband. They’d even started looking into adoption agencies, knowing the process could take up to a year’s time. Fuck what people thought of their decisions, they were theirs to assume the consequences of.

“Shit, I just hope it all goes well..”

“It will, Tae. This day will go down in the book of your lives.” Namjoon reassured.

Jin snickered, hiccuping, “You’re so poetic, Joon. Trust me, this day is going to slap.”

Meanwhile in Jungkook’s dressing room..

“You nervous? Need a cig?” One of Jungkook’s coworkers, Jia, offered; already pulling out a pack of cigarettes from her purse.

“Uhm.. I don’t think that’s a good idea..” Jisoo frowned, eyeing the other woman with uncertainty. “Just take deep breaths if you’re nervous, Jungkookie.”

“Ooor you could just smoke one.”

“For the last time—“

“You girls are so different, oh my fucking god.” Yoongi nonchalantly grumbled, arms crossed over his chest. Jia rolled her eyes, tucking the cigarettes back to where she found them.

“You guys are being annoying,” Jimin sighed, setting aside his beer before waltzing closer to Jungkook, studying the younger’s appearance with a pleased look on his face.

“Tae’s going to love you. You look good!”

''No smoking, I'm literally about to kiss Taehyung in front of everyone.'' Jungkook murmured, eyes hyper fixated on himself in the mirror. Honestly, a cigarette, or ten would be exactly what he needed right about fucking now. He was so nervous, his breathing was shallow-- his hands trembling. He took a good look at himself... He's always looked the same in his own eyes, ever unchanging. But today was different. Jungkook was different. Suddenly, he could see all the changes he's made since high school-- all the changes he'd been through with, and without Taehyung. The ever growing muscles finally at their peak, the suit flattering to his shape from his widened shoulders to his slim waist. His tattoos snaking out of the sleeve to his hands and by his neck. And his always way-too-long hair that he refuses to keep too short only because Taehyung had once said 'I like it long.'.. Now, that must've been years ago, but it stuck with the younger.

"I really look good?" Jungkook glanced at his friends through the mirror.

“Yes!” They all answered in unison— “Decent.”

“Yoongi, shush!” Jisoo playfully pushed the newly-dyed blonde’s shoulder, assuring Jungkook of how handsome he looked.

“Kidding, kid. You look okay.” Yoongi shrugged, successfully dodging Jimin’s incoming slap to his chest.

“Don’t pretend like I didn’t catch you trying to hold back your tears moments before, Min.” Jia smirked, crossing her tattooed arms over her chest; smile widening at the man’s taken-aback reaction.

“Wasn’t crying. You don’t even know me, anyways.” Yoongi huffed, now more hyper aware of his feelings, hence he snapped his head in the opposite direction of his peers.

“Never said you were crying, now did I?”

“Yo, both of you, stop bickering. If you didn’t hate each other so much, I’d think you’re secretly in love with one another.” Jimin didn’t bother looking at the pair, instead focusing his attention on the man of the night— well, one of the men. He was extremely happy for them; they deserved their happy ending after all the shit they went through. And it was a lot..

“You look hot, spicy.” Knowing it’d tickle Kook’s amusement, Jimin giggled whilst he verbally teased him, hoping to ease his mind even for a bit.

“Damn, Yoongi’s crying might rub off on me.”

“I wasn’t crying for fucks sake!”

Taehyung was left alone for some time; left to gather his thoughts once the suit was properly fitted, black hair slicked back— a couple strands falling down to his eyes. Still, he felt far from put together.. Reaching for his phone, Tae tapped on Jungkook’s profile, thumbs moving before he could think of the right words to say.

To: Kook Hey ;)) I know it’s bad luck or whatever to see each other before the ceremony, so I settled for texting I’m a little nervous, I’ve had to pee like 10 times now But fuck I’m so eager to make you my husband, bet you look gorgeous as always

Jungkooks scrunched smile and giggle grew, his friends surely knew how to hype him up; even though the nervosity was at its peak. "Thanks guys." He reached for his phone on the table as soon as it chimed, tucking his fringe behind his ear as he tapped the message. It didn't matter how long the men had been together, Tae always put a dumb grin on Kooks face with his interesting mashup of rambles and emojis. He quickly tapped back on the screen, he'd become a pretty good texter these days compared to his younger days.

To: TaeTae I'm also nervous T_T the girls (and Jimin) have been hyping me up for the past twenty minutes...I almost considered smoking a pack but I wanted to taste good lol. x) And I'm pretty sure Yoongi cried! feel so awkward in a suit, but they say I look, and I quote, "spicy" :ooo Can't wait to see you though, I can't imagine how fucking pretty you'll look in a suit.. I'll see you soon ^^ <3

Jungkook cringed, this might be the longest text he's ever sent in his entire life. But it was fun, and hopefully it would help ease the elders' nerves.

"Alright, it's time!" Jimin clapped his hands. "We will head to the audience, you got this Kook!"

Fuck, it was actually happening. They were getting married.

Taehyung comfortably sank back in his spot on the couch, chuckling at Jungkook’s use of emojis; it was fuckin’ cute. His boy was a dork, another reason Tae wanted to marry him.. The younger’s plan unknowingly worked, Taehyung felt more at peace as he typed back his reply; fingers moving quickly as he knew it was almost time to go. Now that he thought about it.. it was a waste, considering Kook probably wouldn’t see it until after the ceremony, but it did calm him down, so Tae said to hell with it.

To: Kook You always taste good tho..love everything you have to offer, you know I’m not picky And fuuuuckkk I bet you’re rocking the suit rn baby, don’t feel awkward

“Tae! Hurry.” Hoseok’s head peeked in from the other side, urging him to wrap it up— whatever had him grinning from ear to ear. Throwing his phone to the side, Taehyung looked at his reflection one last time, messing with Namjoon’s work on his tie. When jogging out of the room, Tae cursed to himself— his speech! “Shit, never mind.” The elder was so stressed out that he hadn’t noticed the slip of paper was tightly held in his hand; it was nerve-wracking. Taehyung was the one supposed to wait at the altar; after having been decided by a silly game of ‘rock, paper, scissors’. The one thing they took their utmost time deciding on was the name, however.

Jeon. Taehyung wanted to take Jungkook’s surname. Something about wanting a fresh, fresh start. His boyfriend was his everything, and his father was nothing compared to Kook. Tae felt as if change was needed, and what better way than to refer to himself as a Jeon? It drew butterflies in his stomach..

“Fuck— sorry, I’m here now.” The elder harshly whispered to the marriage officiant, nearly tripping over a random cord on the way. Of course. Fuck, his mouth was dry. Taehyung’s chest felt heavy with excitement, squeezing tightly onto the piece of paper that had his vows written inside; just waiting to be heard by Jungkook— and everyone else, but those words were meant for the younger, truly. Shit, Tae just wanted to see him..

Jungkook was trembling behind the closed doors, continuously having to be stopped by Jisoo from running his hand through his hair.

"Don't mess your hair up, kookie. We spent hours on taming it!" She chuckled quietly, fixing the tie on his neck. He was a nervous wreck, his anxiety causing his stomach to do somersaults. He wants to throw up.

"I've never been this nervous in my life." Kook bounced on the ball of his foot, taking deep breaths. He was gonna get through this. He wanted this. He just wanted to see Taehyung.

"Shh, it's time. Go get that husband, Kookie!" Jisoo patted his back, grabbing the basket of flowers that she'd share with her daughter, Yuna. She was 5 years old now, and having them as the flower girls was nothing but an obvious choice. The doors slowly opened, music playing and everyone on their seats stood up, turning to look at Jungkook. It was a mix of eyes, all showing their own version of joy, whether it be with tears in their eyes or a large smile. But the only face Jungkook could see was the one staring back at him from the altar.

"Fuck..." Jungkook whispered under his breath, his feet finally moving on their own, eyes tunnel visioned on Taehyung. His heart didn't calm down, instead raced even faster, pounding heavily in his chest. But it wasn't out of nervosity, but of excitement.

“Oh, wow..” Taehyung was whipped— in awe, too. Jungkook mirrored a literal angel sent from above, and the elder couldn’t seem to look away; not for one second. The younger one looked stunning.. “Gorgeous..” Tae’s teeth clamped down on his lower lip, preventing it from trembling due to the emotions that’d taken over his body in the form of shivers. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry..

Taehyung couldn’t believe it, they were only moments away from— “Uncle Tae! I have no more flowers..!” A fit of muffled laughter erupted from the small crowd, causing a flustered Jisoo to attempt to quiet down her daughter, murmuring shh’s.

“But mama I need more flowers!” Taehyung laughed, mouthing to Jisoo that all was well; Yuna was too cute. Tae loved the little girl to pieces. Once she was done throwing her mini tantrum— thanks to Namjoon, who quickly swept Yuna off her little feet; Tae’s big grin gradually died down now that Jungkook’s figure had gotten closer. Instead, he licked over his lips, feeling the warm tears resurface once again.

“Hurry up, I wanna hold your hands..” The needy whisper came out weaker than Taehyung had intended, voice breaking whilst he made grabby-hands towards Jungkook, wanting nothing more than to stand before the love of his life. When both men finally faced one another, the elder had the strong urge to kiss him; but he held back. The time hadn’t come yet..

“Wow.. you look so pretty, baby,” is what he settled for, nervously toying with Kook’s fingers, glassy eyes shrinking the more his smile widened.

Jungkook chewed the inside of his cheek, the only invisible release of his anxious state that he could do at the moment. Taehyung looked fucking otherwordly, it blew his mind that this man... was his. Forever.

''You too.... So handsome.'' He whispered back, doe eyes sparkling from the lights around them, enhanced by the layer of tears glazing over his dark irises. Don't cry, don't cry, don't fucking-- well, fuck, he's crying. Jungkook was always a crybaby. ''Shit...'' Kook didn't even register the warmth trickling down his cheeks until now, blinking rapidly as he looked at the ceiling to prevent the stinging in his eyes. His tattooed hands immediately intertwined with Taehyung's, squeezing to ensure that this was indeed their reality. And so, they were both reminded of this reality as the officiant's voice echoed in the venue.

"Welcome family, friends and loved ones. We are gathered today to celebrate the union of,'' The officiant paused to look at the younger. ''Jeon Jungkook and,'' And over at the elder. ''Kim Taehyung."

Jungkook's breath hitched, squeezing his husband to be's hands tighter.

"Your marriage will be a lifelong promise to love, respect, trust and honor each other through the good, the bad and the unexpected. This union represents your commitment to support one another as individual beings but share your joys, sorrows, and dreams as one." The speech continued, the officiant rambled about marriage, about love, about everything-- and Jungkook couldn't do anything but silently admire Taehyung, just as the elder did back. Their expression said it all, it always did. Ever since they were younger, the look in their eyes never changed as they found each other's gaze.

''Jeon Jungkook, do you take Kim Taehyung to be your husband?''

Jungkook swallowed tightly, it felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest at any given moment. The way he fucking loved this man was unheard of.

"I do." His voice was clear, and for that he was thankful-- even if his cheeks were damp with tears.

The officiant turned to look at the elder.

"Kim Taehyung, do you take Jeon Jungkook to be your husband?"

Taehyung didn’t need another second to think it through; he’s had five years to make up his mind—“Fuck, o-of course! I mean, I do.” He squeezed the younger’s trembling hands, twiddling with the delicate piece of metal hugging Kook's ring finger; grinning freely past the layer of tears that washed over his chocolate eyes.

“Forasmuch as Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook have consented together in holy matrimony, and have pledged their love and loyalty to each other, and have declared the same by the joining and the giving of rings, by the power vested in me, and as witnessed by friends and family, I now pronounce you married. You may kiss the groom.” The series of claps and exceptionally loud cheers (drunk Jin) from their friends barely reached Taehyung’s ears. The elder practically threw himself in Jungkook’s arms, tightly wrapping his own around the younger’s neck as Tae kissed the hell out of him, taking his sweet time with his husband. Fuck.. felt disorienting— yet extremely fitting to think that; to be able to refer to Jungkook as his husband.

“I love you so much.” Taehyung’s faint whisper only reached four ears, his and Kook’s. Their friends lingered in the beautifully lit background, cooing; some snapping hundreds of pictures (once again, drunk Jin) of the pair. “And yeah, they were right. You do look spicy..” The elder discreetly raised a brow, having yet to part ways from Jungkook’s warmth. “But tonight, you’ll look even better naked.” The elder’s hands tauntingly slid down to Kook’s waist, where he gripped at his soft edges. Taehyung’s dim smirk diminished into yet another kiss, this time needier..

“Uh, guys? You gonna stop kissing now..?” Hoseok gave them a verbal poke, “We’re still here, you know.”

Jia cheerfully butted in, “Let’s get this party started, I wanna get wasted.”

Jungkook wiped his dry tears off his cheeks when theiy kiss is broken, wide smile mixed with his flustered blush. Tae always managed to sneak in the comments that'd make his insides stir from the mere anticipation of what's to come. Their wedding night. Somehow, that thought made it even more special. And even if they've done practically everything together, Koo was feeling a bit nervous... He wanted it to be even more special. He was thankful for the fact that a bit of liquid courage would surely help with his nerves. Honestly, tipsy sex later on didn't sound that bad...

"Don't say such things yet, or I won't be able to wait until tonight.." Jungkook whispered back, burying his face in Tae's neck momentarily until his blush would subside.

Photos were taken, from Tae popping the champagne bottle for their first drink together as a married couple, arms hooked and cheesy for the cameras, Jungkook cutting their cake and feeding it to Taehyung, with all hyungs in the back cheering like dumbasses, to Yuna smearing cream on Jungkook's nose as he held her. It was the perfect gathering for everyone that loved them, and for the ones they loved. The venue had moved into the party event of the night, Kook's suit jacket came off to only wear the pants and white dress shirt underneath, sleeves rolled up to his biceps, hair slightly messy but still put together. Drinks now in hand, hyungs, friends and the married couple exchanged laughs, memories and embarrassing stories.

''Remember when Taehyungie aaalways would give Jungkookie the marshmallows during breakfast? Ah, so wholesome. And here they are, fucking maaarrried!" Jin laughed, raising his glass for another drink.

''And when they disappeared during that party...'' Yoongi added quietly, his cheeks red from the alcohol. ''Then they came back from upstairs looking all newly fucked.''

Namjoon choked on his drink at the memory, remembering literally finding them naked in the room. But, that was something he'd take to the grave, however giving the couple a look of 'if they only knew.'

Jungkook blushed, tilting his head back to gulp down one of his drinks. ''My favorite is... McDonalds.'' he scrunched his nose at the memory, glancing over at Tae. ''Remember?''

Taehyung sat his half-empty glass of wine down. The slender fingers that once wrapped around its crystal base were now on Jungkook’s thigh, caressing over the smoother fabric of the younger’s dress pants— a different feel compared to Kook’s usual, rugged style. “How could I forget..” Tae chuckled, “That’s the place where you asked me out.”

“I knew it!” Jin’s loud voice startled little Yuna, who was busy stuffing her face with a slice of cake whilst the rest of the adults conversed about different topics that didn’t intrigue her five-year-old mind. Immediately, she hid her face in Namjoon’s chest, small fists clinging onto her father’s suit. “Remember that day in the lunchroom? When both of you were being total assholes and wouldn’t tell us who asked who out? I was right.”

Hoseok’s eyes lit up, as if the memories had just registered in his brain— “I remember! Always thought it was Tae, though.”

Taehyung’s cheeky grin evolved into a laugh, comfortably leaning his body against his husband’s, “Nope. It was him, it was right after the party, too. I remember it clearly— my ass was so sore, and the stars were really pretty.. also, the milkshakes. At that moment, he just.. asked if I wanted to be his boyfriend, so I said yes.”

Jimin’s plushy lips jutted outwards into a soft pout, cooing.

“I didn’t know you back then, but that does sound cute as hell.” Jia looked over at Yoongi, seeing as he was already looking back at her. The sensual tension between those two was pungent, anyone could tell. “This man right here cried fat tears during your vows.” Yoongi’s fond expression shifted into a frown, huffing as he poured himself another drink.

“Not true, Jia. You sure love to over-exaggerate things, don’t you?”

Yoongi definitely cried. Everyone knew.

“Whatever, I’m gonna go... to the bathroom, drank too much..” The last bit was mumbled. With a quick look towards Jia’s direction, Yoongi raised his brows— she got the hint.

“Gonna go check my dress, shit’s too tight.”

And just like that, both disappeared from the table.

Hoseok snickered, “Remind you of some people?” Taehyung smirked, bumping shoulders with Kook.

“They’re definitely hooking up. Yoongi had a tent under those pants.”

“Daddy? What’s ‘hooking up’?” It was Jisoo’s turn to glare at the man at her side, “Jin!”

"That's uhhhh..... oh look Yuna, cake!" Namjoon averted the distraction with sugary sweets, which seemed to work by the way the little child suddenly forgot about any mention of 'hookups', his dimpled smile directed to Jisoo. Jungkook leaned onto Taehyung, his fond eyes travelling across the group. The fact they all managed to still be friends was a blessing. The night went on, everyone getting more intoxicated, Yoongi and Jina still gone-- probably left to continue somewhere else.. and Jisoo and Namjoon ended up leaving because little Yuna had a bedtime to attend. The rest of the group stayed around until late hours, cheering and drinking on to celebrate the newlyweds. But all nights come to an end, everyone standing outside the building to bid their farewell.

"Time for you guys to consummate the marriage huhhhh?" Jin winked, one arm clinging onto Hoseok's shoulder to keep him up straight.

"Itll be like any other night." Hoseok snickered, hissing when Jimin kicked his shin.

"Congrats on the marriage, guys." Jimin cheered, blowing kisses in the air to the sweet couple. "I'm very happy for you guys. Ahh.. I want to marry someday too."

"Maybe Mino will marry you." Jungkook giggled, his cheeks red from the alcohol heating him up, clinging onto Taehyung's arm like a child. He surely was bigger, but in a moment like this he seemed just so small and endearing. "See you guys later."

The couple waited for their cab, as neither were in a condition to drive, anxious to get home to their first night as Mr. And Mr. Jeon.

“Someone’s had a bit too many drinks..” Taehyung drunkenly chuckled, wrapping one arm around Jungkook’s loose shoulders to pull him in closer, out stretching his neck; in the lookout for their expected cab. Once the car finally pulled up, Tae slumped down on the backseat, throwing his head back with a tired groan. It’s been a long, exciting day; almost all of the elder’s energy was spent entertaining their guests. “Fuck, ‘m tired, husband..” Like a kid, Taehyung turned his head to gaze into the younger’s eyes, cheeky grin tugging at his lips. “Dunno if I’m gonna be able to fuck you dumb tonight.” Oh, Tae definitely could. Now that he was in a hazier mindset, messing with Jungkook seemed that much more amusing.. The elder might‘ve been tired; but he never got tired of Kook’s body, and tonight was no exception. “Shit, I was really gonna take my time with you and everything.. I was gonna make love to you, hard.” He forced out a defeated sigh, diverting his attention to the various lights outside.

Jungkook turned to look at Taehyung with his wide doe eyes, hands fiddling in his lap. He pouted. "But Taeeee...." he leaned in closer, hand reaching to tug at his husband's collar for attention. He really turned into such a baby when he drank with Taehyung. And maybe, just maybe it also had to do with the fact that they were horny newlyweds, he's been teased all day. "Tired? noo.. babe, we can wake you up. I'll wake youu uuup!"

“God, you’re so fucking cute..” Taehyung scooted closer to his tipsy husband, Tae’s distant laughter now coming across as raspier than before; the slight vibrations in his broad shoulders brushing against the side of Jungkook’s arm. “You’ll wake me up, huh..” Something else was already aroused awake, and the elder couldn’t bare to keep it a secret from Kook for much longer.. “I have an idea— of how you can wake me up, that is.” Taehyung pressed a small kiss onto the younger’s cheek, alert eyes trained upfront. “Wanna know what it is? Shit, why am I even asking, of course you do..” He pulled away from Jungkook’s ear, drunken-breath clashing against the latter’s clammy skin. “Get a feel, baby.” Tae cautiously led the younger’s hand to his bulge, ragged breath hitching in his throat. He was extra sensitive, and it was hard to not make much noise.. The driver would start to get suspicious. “Ah shit.. move your hand.” With a quick peek upfront, Taehyung undid his zipper, man-spreading for Jungkook. Luckily the back was dark enough, but there was always a chance of them getting caught..

Jungkook's eyes sparkled in the dark, biting down on his lower lip to prevent the needy whimper that threatened to escape his throat. He probably wouldn't admit it so openly, but there was something about the risk of getting caught that turned him on even more than if it would've been a simple wait for them to get home. Taehyung surely knew that though. Kook was his little exhibitionist. And the latter was ever grateful that the elder indulged in his deviant desires. "Can't believe I get to call you my husband." Jungkook whispered, voice more steady this time around. One hand still palming Tae’s bulge over his pants, his other hand snaked underneath the waistband for a direct contact, sighing out a shaky breath at the silky, soft yet hard length that throbbed in his hand. Kook has seen, tasted and touched Taehyung's cock what felt like a million times before, but there was no way he could ever get enough of it. Slowly, he stroked Taehyung's rigid length with lazy movements, relishing in the response he drew out from his husband in the form of twitchy hips, the struggle to remain silent.

“Fuck..” Taehyung’s tongue swiped over his lips, temporarily wetting the dry patches. He harshly tugged at his lower lip with his teeth, and the corner of his mouth twitched once as he held back a deep, thick growl. “My fuckin’ husband; you like this, don’t you? My sneaky baby.. jerking me off in the backseat of a stranger’s car. Dirty little thing.” The elder gently rocked his hips into Kook’s hand, looking down at the way the front of his pants would bulge outwards with every stroke. “So fucking good. You imagining it’s your ass wrapping around me, baby boy? Hm? Fuckin’ bet you wanna jump my bones; you wanna feel this big cock inside of you— fuuck..” Taehyung threw his head back, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Mmhm... shit, when you talk like that..." Jungkook rubbed his thighs together, uncomfortably adjusting his erection. "Drives me mad. My little ass is throbbing, clenching just thinking about your fat cock filling it up." Koo whispered into the elders ear, squeezing Taes turgid length a little harder, his hand getting more and more slick with every stroke, focusing his attention on the swollen mushroom tip than the rest of it, rubbing his thumb underneath the crease of the head. "I love you. Do you feel a bit more awake now?" He breathed out coyly, nuzzling his nose into Taehyung's neck. For one it could look like an innocent cuddle, little drunk koo just seeking leverage. But the innocence was nowhere to be found in either of the boys.

Taehyung’s nails sank deep into the fabric of his pants, feeling the strong muscles under his thigh shift into a clenched position. The way Jungkook’s thumb kneaded the spot under the reddened tip; accentuating his vigor— it had Tae losing it. Kook knew how much that gesture drove him insane. He also knew that it turned Taehyung on to the max; if the latter wasn’t in such a trance, he would’ve had to punish Jungkook for it. How dare he tease him in a situation like this one?— knowing Tae wouldn’t be able to fuck his brains out.. “Y-yeah.. more awake. Keep rubbing under there..” The elder grew harder in Kook’s hand, the rocking of his hips gaining more momentum. “O-oh.. fuuck.”

“Everything okay back there?”

Shit— shit! As if it could possibly hide the commotion going on inside of his pants, Taehyung’s hand instinctively covered over his bulge; looking like a wide-eyed idiot. He quickly turned to look at Jungkook, silently pleading with him to answer for the both of them. His voice would betray him, Tae was sure of it. Fuck, he just wanted to arrive at their expensive suite already and fuck his husband..

"All good, siiir! Just a little too much to drink!" Jungkook chirped back, keeping his eyes fixed on Taehyung's wide ones. Mischief was evident on Jungkook's expression, he was fucking thriving off of the risky situation, the embarrassment that could possibly dawn upon them. But Kook was confident the chance of actually being caught was more unlikely. "Don't worry so much, you're way too obvious..." Jungkook whispered, although he did enjoy the tension it provided. "I wonder if I could just suck you off right here?" He added lowly, eyes lowering to watch his hand resume it's work, squeezing and rubbing at the swollen head. He licked his lips, nodding to himself as he leaned down, his raven hair barely visible in the dark anyway. "Just gonna take a little nap til we arrive." He cooed out loud, quietly tugging down Tae's pants to release his length from the strain of fabrics. He sighed, the sound coming out as a quiet moan that only the elder could hear before directly taking the tip into his mouth, no teasing-- just as much as he could possibly take down his throat, tongue brushing against the velvety skin. He remains still, his gag reflex well trained throughout their years together, allowing the elder to just feel the wet warmth of Jungkook's fleshy mouth, like a good cock warming prep. Koo knew this would drive him mad, riled up to the max to get what he wanted in their bedroom later on; a desperate, rough, punishing fuck.

“Kook— wha.. a-ah..” Taehyung gasped; he didn’t expect Jungkook to actually go through with it, but now that the younger’s mouth lingered frozen around his heated cock, Tae found that to be even more surprising. Jungkook was really testing him.. “Fuck, babe quit playing and suck my dick..” His fingers wove themselves in through his husband’s long hair, tugging at its roots. Taehyung stared down at where Kook’s warmth engulfed his most sensitive body part, desperately trying to make out the younger’s swollen lips in the darkness. Still as cautious as ever, Tae’s eyes continuously flickered between the focused driver and his husband, slightly pushing downwards on Jungkook’s head. “Baby, fuck.. so warm, shit.” Taehyung felt as if he’d be able to stay like this forever.. “You’re taking in all of it like a champ, Jesus..”

As if Jungkook was cock-warming him, Tae threw his head back, eyes closed while he visibly relaxed. It was tempting to fuck the younger’s mouth, but after a long; eventful day, this was what Taehyung needed..

“So newlyweds, huh? How does it feel?”

The elder’s eyes immediately awakened, worried that the man would be able to see Jungkook through the rear view mirror. He pushed down on Kook’s nape, feeling the younger’s drool slither down his naked length. “Oh, uh.. it— it feels great.” Taehyung bit down on his rosy lip, slowly thrusting his hips upwards. Fuck, Kook was going to be the death of him.

Jungkook placed his hand on Tae's thigh, smoothing his hand in slow circles as a way of reassurance that he's fine. But of course, Tae knew the younger could take it all. He took a deep breath through his nose, swallowing tightly around the elders swollen length. The fleshy walls of his throat constricted, the light quiet sound of the younger gasping for more air more prominent. But Kooks hand remained soothing on Tae’s thigh. It was fine. He loved this. And, the fact that Taehyung was having a conversation with the driver only made it so much more entertaining.

"That is amazing. You two make a very handsome couple. I can hear the sighs of women from here when they see the two of you together." The driver chuckled lightly.

The moan scratching at the back of Taehyung’s throat converted itself into an awkward chuckle; his posture stiff as he relished in the comforting touch of Jungkook’s hand. “Y-yeah,” another forced laughter, “He’s very good.. very handsome. Lucky to have him— o-oh shit.” Tae felt his husband’s throat close in around him, and the elder insisted Kook could make out the saltiness of his precum. Shit, he was practically squeezing it out of him at this point, Jungkook was so fucking tight..

“Everything alright?” Of course the driver heard.

“Yeah— yeah, ‘m good.”

Taehyung’s tongue swiped over his lips, his fingers having yet to part from the younger’s hair. “Wanna feel you even more..” Subtly, Tae’s hips fucked into his mouth, the tip of his cock repeatedly prodding against the back of Jungkook’s throat. “Oh god..” His body’s rhythm was steady, but anything was better than nothing. The elder stared down at him, admiring the way the boy’s plush lips would occasionally graze the skin of his pelvis. Jungkook’s gag reflex had gotten better, and Taehyung was big— it came as an initial surprise for both. Now, they were used to it. While his dick stayed snug inside of Kook's mouth, the driver decided it’d be a good idea to continue asking them questions.

“Any plans for the future?”

“Uh, buy a house, raise a baby— things like that.” Normally Tae wouldn’t have answered so quickly, but he was desperate for the man to stop asking them questions..

“That’s amazing. Babies are a handful, I have two of them myself, so I wish you guys the best of luck!”

“T-thanks. We’ll need it.”

“How does your husband feel about that? Excited to raise a kid?”

“Yeah, babe. How do you feel about raising a baby with me?” If Jungkook could tease him, so could he. “Come on, wake up from your nap honey. It’s rude..”

Jungkook clawed at Taehyung's thigh for having the guts to force the younger to interrupt what he'd started. He really didn't want to separate his throat from Tae's cock. However, he did, slowly feeling the rigid length brush against his fleshy mouth as he pulled back to sit up straight, combing his fingers through his hair with one hand and wiping his teary eyes with the other. "Yeah,'' His voice came out hoarse. He padded his eyes with the back of his hand, instead acting as if he's so touched by the very thought of children. "Yeah I am very excited, can't wait to raise a child with him." Kook glanced over at the elder as he said so, he genuinely meant every word that rolled off his tongue. However, right now, there was a hint of his mischievous annoyance present. He wanted to tease more. Instead, he opted for simply... Not going back down, leaning back in his seat as he placed his hands in his lap, covering the throbbing bulge he's rocking of his own. Fuck, this car ride felt like it was taking forever...

"How sweet.'' The driver chirped as he finally pulled over by their street.

"Well, here we are. It was a pleasure talking to the two of you, I wish you the best of luck with your future. And congratulations on the marriage."

After seconds of just.. waiting for Jungkook to dive back down, Taehyung passed as an actual idiot. He expectantly stared at his husband, dick stiff as a pole— but without anyone to take proper care of it. When it became obvious that Kook wasn’t planning on continuing, Taehyung scoffed, tucking himself back in with a sour expression. This man..

Once the sight of the massive hotel came into view, Tae was eager to get out of there. He rummaged in his back pocket for his wallet before paying the driver, thanking him for the thoughtful wishes regarding their marriage. However, part of him felt guilty that the man remained clueless about what took place in the backseats, so Taehyung gave him a big tip. It didn’t completely get rid of his gnawing guilt, but it definitely helped..

“Thanks. Drive safe.” The elder waved at the man, an innocent smile on display until the car disappeared from their sight.

At that moment, Taehyung grasped onto Jungkook’s bicep, bringing him closer. “What the fuck was that?” He growled into the younger’s ear, “You didn’t even suck me off, that’s low, babe.” His bigger hand snuck down to Kook’s ass, giving it a firm squeeze. “You teased me a lot back there, I don’t wanna hear a word from you when I do the same. Now come on, let’s get checked in, then we’ll see if I’m still up for it..”

Being manhandled in this manner had Jungkook speechless, the one and only sound he dared to allow slipping past his suck-swollen lips was a breathy whimper. Now, it was no secret that the younger was physically the one at an advantage if he wanted to be-- but the thing is, he crumbled so easily with every word hissing through Taehyung's teeth. Jungkook nodded, keeping his gaze low on the ground as his lips curled up in a small smile, legs trembling with excitement. This little game, it was the perfect thrill. Would he get teased until he physically couldn't take it anymore? Would he be left tied up on the bed for hours upon hours? Or would the elder simlpy be too impatient and just fuck him into a dumb drooling mess?

Not knowing what to anticipate drove the younger mad.

Once they made it to the door of their premium suite, he patiently waited next to his husband who had the keycard to the door, eyes occasionally daring to look at how Tae practically oozed with frustration-- like a cloud of power that followed him all the way from the car. Kook licked his lips at the sight, a soft shaky breath all that left him as he shifted his weight on his feet, keeping his head low still. He wanted to feel small.

Taehyung turned on the doorknob, stepping into the neat space that’d soon turn into a mess. The elder was annoyed, and Jungkook knew how he got whenever something was on his mind, especially something like this.. “What are you doing still standing there? Get in.” No trace of fondness remained put in Taehyung’s naturally lower voice. Tonight, he’d put Jungkook through the merciless teasing that the younger showed him in the car; and Tae was going to enjoy every minute of it. After closing the door behind them, the elder loosened his bowtie, throwing it to the corner where his suit jacket laid. He turned around to face Jungkook, forcing the latter to stare into his eyes by redirecting his chin upwards.

He really looked too cute..

“Why are you so shy? You look so innocent..” Taehyung clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, withdrawing his hand from Kook’s chin. “But you’re far from innocent, and I think you know why.”

With a bratty smile, Tae made himself comfortable on the edge of the bed, unbuttoning the first few buttons of his top. “Why should I fuck you, hm? You’ve been nothing but a pain in the ass.” He made zero efforts to meet Jungkook’s eyes, playing uninterested.

Jungkook's doe eyes widened as he stepped closer to the elder until he stood in front of him, knees almost touching. He tried to meet Tae's eyes, but they kept avoiding him like the plague. And that alone ignited the needy fires within the younger-- he craved the attention even more when he was deprived of it. "Please, Taehyung." Jungkook's voice was low, a just audible enough whine. He dropped to his knees in front of Tae, still desperately attempting to feel his husband's gaze on him. "I'll be good, so good for you." He added, his hands already unbuttoning his own shirt after loosening his tie; eager to free himself from the restraints of the fabrics. Eager to feel Taehyung's clammy skin against his own at some point. Kook threw his shirt to the side, leaving his tie loose around his neck purposefully. He leaned in, placing his tattooed hands on Taehyung's thighs daringly as his sparkly gaze seeked attention. "I'll do anything to make up for it." He licked his lips as he said so, genuine in every sense of his words. "Mr. Jeon." He quirked a brow, liking how his name sounded when addressed to the elder, giving him a new level of authority that had Kook's cock throb beneath his dress pants.

Mr. Jeon..

Taehyung’s fingers tightly curled around Jungkook’s loose tie, roughly pulling the younger’s body upwards, unbothered to be the one who put in the effort to make their gazes clash. In this moment, Jungkook was his little doll; Tae got to handle him as he pleased. “Anything?” Their noses were practically touching whilst the elder’s hot breath fanned Kook’s flustered face, his eyes dead-set on the younger’s relaxed lips. “Call me that again.” Taehyung not only wanted to hear, but he wanted to see. The elder’s stare fell heavy on Jungkook’s lips, anticipating seeing the way they moved as Kook referred to him by such a commanding name. “Fuck.. say it.”

Jungkook licked his plushy lips deliberately slow before he inhaled deeply. "Mr. Jeon... Please, use me." He said with a low voice, his dark eyes still seeking for any attention. But knowing he wouldn't get it until the elder chose to, he settled for observing every little reaction he was able to draw out of him. He knew Taehyung didn't go unaffected, whether he acted like it or not. "Jeon Taehyung." He repeated the full name, this time it came out more like a strained sigh due to the tightness of the tie around his neck, eyes fluttering shut when he felt Tae's hand tug at the fabric controlling his airways.

Fuck, Taehyung couldn’t take it any longer; he had to have Jungkook. It was annoying— how the younger more often than not got away with whatever the hell he wanted, simply because of Taehyung’s undying hunger for the man.. But, who said the teasing had to end there? Surely not the elder. It was more fun that way.. Tae’s bigger hand unlatched itself from Jungkook’s tie, instead snaking around to the latter’s nape, sinking his fingers into the rigid skin before forcing their lips together. The kiss was anything but gentle, instead it reflected off of how Taehyung was feeling at the moment; needy, controlling— rough. “You’re gonna regret messing with me..” The elder mumbled in between their breathless kisses, the grip on Jungkook’s nape now more prominent, and so was the bulge in his tight pants. “You’re gonna listen to Mr. Jeon’s every word, got it?” Taehyung’s thumb caressed over the smooth skin of Kook’s cheek, feeling the warmth radiating from it. “Now undress me, but undo my zipper with your teeth. Hold eye contact throughout all of it, can you do that, puppy?” Not waiting for a clear answer, Tae comfortably leaned back on his arms, waiting for Jungkook to get started.

A spark of excitement swirled in Jungkook's dark gaze, eager to please and serve his husband. It was so fucking hot to see him this way, a nonchalant expression oozing of power, leaned back to showcase just exactly Jungkook was yet to unwrap for himself to see. Kook was confident, thrilled; and impatient. The mix had his hands trembling as he firstly finished the job of unbuttoning every single button on Tae's dress shirt, letting it freely fall to his sides to expose the firm yet soft torso that the younger had seen and admired countless times; yet every single time it felt new. "Yes, sir." Jungkook dragged his upper teeth across his lower lip as he lowered himself back on his knees between Taehyung's legs, eyes never wavering from his husbands. He clicked the initial button of the elders pants open before inching down to clasp the zipper between his bunny like teeth. Kook still stared up at the other male, desperate for any praise at all; and it showed in his eyes. And he was ready to work for it, there was no challenge the younger male wouldn't attempt to conquer. With every tooth of the zipper unraveling, the sound triggered his cock to pulse beneath his still intact pants. He both relished and cursed the slow pace of this, he craved to feel full, yet the journey there was just as exciting. When finished, he kept his teeth clamped on the little metal piece on the zipper, not daring to let go until ordered to do so.

“Have I ever told you how fuckin’ pretty you look when you’re obedient?” Taehyung purposely stayed back to watch Jungkook’s patient expression, knowing he could tell the younger to let go of his zipper whenever he wanted. “Now’s when you decide to be good, huh.. shit, so gorgeous..” The elder leaned forward, a shit-eating smirk tugging at his slightly swollen lips. “Let go.” Right as Kook was beginning to pull away, Taehyung’s palm pressed flat against his throat, gripping at Jungkook’s neck with his slender fingers. Although his grip was too strong to wriggle out of, Tae made sure it didn’t hurt Kook.. badly. “If you were so confident in the car, how ‘bout you prove to me just how deep you can go, hm?” Taehyung’s thumb pressed down harder at the receptive spot on the side of Jungkook’s neck, loving the way his husband seemed taken-aback by his actions. “Suck my cock, no games this time.” Growing impatient, the elder let go of his hold around Jungkook’s skin, expecting him to follow through; just like he always would.

"Yes." Jungkook gasped his word out the moment Taehyung withdrew from his throat, his throbbing erection aching so badly it almost hurt. He wanted to please so badly, he was thriving as he would remain feeling inferior throughout. He placed his hands firmly on Taehyung's thighs, using only his mouth to pick up the tip into his mouth, leaning forward to take the entirety of his husband's rigid cock down his throat, tongue brushing against the soft skin as he did so. Taking a deep breath through his nose, he wasted no time in hollowing his cheeks, sucking with an evident hunger as he began to slowly bob his head up and down. Every time his plush lips pressed against the elders pelvis, he'd feel his throat fight the girth in the form of constrictions, his eyes beginning to gather a layer of tears. He looked up at Taehyung as he withdrew, keeping the tip in his mouth as he swirled his wide tongue around it, only for him to move back down until the bulbous head prodded the back of his throat. Jungkook resumed his ministrations for as long as Taehyung would desire, the wet, loud sounds of the younger sucking with greed striking in the quiet room.

The muscles underneath Taehyung’s throat bobbed with every gulp he took, jaw slack as he watched Jungkook get to work; in a trance from the way his husband’s tongue circled around his head. Ever since they were younger, Kook always knew how to please him during a blowjob. The younger knew what he was doing, and it benefited them both. Those times they’d sneak out of the classroom only for Jungkook to get down on his knees— that feeling of infinite bliss and exhilaration never left. And now here they were, married, yet acting like the horny teenage boys they once were when they properly met... That’s how Taehyung felt with Jungkook; young.

“Shit.. you’re gonna fucking make me burst..” The elder threw his head back, the raspiness of his moans now accompanying the lewd sounds in the room. “You love my cock so much.. fuuck yeah, that’s it, good boy.” Taehyung relished in the warmth a bit longer, cheeks flushed with color. He could endure it a little more..

Jungkook pressed his thighs together at the sounds he managed to draw out of his husband, his muffled moans still caught in his throat. He took it upon himself to ease the pulsating ache between his legs by reaching down with one hand, unbuttoning his tight pants to seek some relief. Never once did he waver the rhythm he'd built up, skillfully sucking and licking Taehyung's turgid length as if he was worshipping the man himself. Kook snaked his hand beneath his own waistband, palming himself through his underwear to find even the slightest of friction, his teary eyes forcing a tear down his cheek to join the mess of drool and precum on his lips and chin.

Similar to a favorite movie of his, Taehyung found the sight below him so foreseeable yet so enticing. No matter how many times the elder’s seen Jungkook’s drool glisten down his skin, each time felt like the first. Kook was working so hard for him, maybe it was about time he did the same.. “Shit.. that’s enough.” With his hands on the younger’s shoulders, Taehyung withdrew his cock from Jungkook’s mouth, instantly missing the warmth it once provided. He gazed down at the thick layer of drool on his dick, and then back at Kook’s face— he looked beautiful like this, with rosy cheeks and watery eyes.. But Tae knew something else had to be done. “Strip for me, wanna see all of you..”

Jungkook gasps for air, not bothering to wipe his glistening chin at all as he gets up on his feet. His cheeks are flushed when he sees his own erection aching beneath the fabrics of his pants. His already exposed torso clammy from working hard on Tae's cock, messy hair and the loose tie gives him a sure look of a good, submissive boy. Now all that's missing is to show off just how badly he needs Taehyung. "Am I doing well?" Jungkook asks, fishing for more praise. His tattooed, long fingers curl around his pants as he pulls them down along with his underwear, allowing the fabrics to pool at his feet before stepping out of them. Now fully in the nude (except for the little cute tie around his neck), he takes a step to stand right in front of his husband, hands limp on his sides as he awaits what's next, cock twitching in anticipation.

“You’re doing amazing, baby..” Taehyung’s hooded eyes skimmed down Kook’s exposed, awkward stance; inhaling every inch of the younger’s skin as if it was smoke to his lungs. Jungkook was drop dead gorgeous— even in such a vulnerable state, he managed to make the elder’s breath hitch. Taehyung was sure that feeling would never, ever go away.. He never wanted it to. It kept things exhilarating between the two; it gave Taehyung a rush like never before. “You look so fucking cute with your tie.” A low chuckle emitted from deep down the elder’s chest whilst his feet moved on his own, breaking the small distance between their bodies. One of his hands landed on the side of Jungkook’s waist, and his pointer finger hooked itself underneath the flimsy fabric around Kook’s neck, drawing him in closer. Their cocks gently grazed over one another, the small contact having Taehyung bite down on his lower lip— his husband’s lower lip, anything to be more than close. “You turn quiet real quick, don’t you?” The elder breathed out against Jungkook’s neck, running the tip of his nose along the responsive skin. “Hope you’re less shy when I pound into you, wanna hear you.” In that instant, Taehyung harshly drove the younger’s back against the wall, caging his relatively larger build in between his own. No matter how much stronger Jungkook was; or how tough he appeared in people’s eyes, Tae knew the younger man would always be his baby boy.

Those doe eyes made Taehyung want to corrupt him again and again.

“So fuckin’ pretty, goddamn.” The elder’s mouth latched on to his husband’s sweet spot, sucking on the soft skin as if it was the last thing he’d do. Both of his bigger hands held Jungkook’s wrists above his head, stopping him from wriggling too much. “Gonna give you so many hickeys, want everyone to know what we came here to do.. and that’s fucking mark my territory.”

"Ah~ yes, I'm yours...." Jungkook's rosy lips parted in a needy whimper, muscles in his arms and torso flexing as he lightly tugged against the restraints that were Taehyung's hands-- however not hard enough to actually set himself free. He could.. but he did.not.want.to.. He was thriving to be Taehyung's good boy. His regular day to day life always consisted of being the big guy, the strong guy. The one in charge. And ever since they were teenagers, the elder was the only person who could reduce him into a whiny, needy boy that just wanted to be manhandled, praised, and properly and utterly fucked. Jungkook's breathy moans were growing heavy, eyes screwing shut as he deliberately focused on the way Tae's lips sucked on his skin-- and trying his best to ignore the borderline painful ache between his legs. He could practically feel the precum drool from the swollen head of his tip. But it was so much easier said than done, and the younger's well repeated words throughout the years slipped past his lips in a quiet whine. "More, please.."

Taehyung’s lips attached themselves to parts of the untainted skin of Kook’s neck, down to his collarbones and shoulders, where he stamped a bundle of kisses— ranging from big to small— along every shuddering dip and arch. “Such a good boy for me, I love you.” With one last look into Jungkook’s eyes, Tae spun the younger around on his feet, hands grabbing at his small waist. “Just wanna devour you whole..” The elder’s breath clashed against the other’s nape, feeling the delicate hairs of Jungkook’s skin brush against his nose in a feather-like touch. Everything Kook had to offer was intoxicating.. Taehyung nuzzled his face in the crook of his husband’s collarbone, one of his hands snaking around to where Jungkook’s aroused cock bobbed. His long fingers didn’t wait to wrap themselves around the thick girth, accumulating the precum at the tip, and smothering it down to the rest of his length.

“Don’t cum yet, alright~?” The elder pressed himself harder onto Kook’s ass, pushing the latter’s chest against the wall. His rock-hard dick stayed snug in between his husband’s cheeks, taunting him with painfully slow thrusts. “Fuck..” Taehyung flicked his wrist a couple of times, then proceeded to carefully stroke Jungkook’s wet cock— from the base to the tip. “Your moans are so fucking pretty, I wanna hear them all the time.”

"Oh, fuck... Tae.." Jungkook pressed his cheek against the wall, heavy huffs and moans slipping past his lips. His cock twitched happily in the elder's hand, finally receiving the attention he so badly craved. But it quickly turned out to be not enough. Not enough at all. "You're so good to me-- god.." kooks voice tore into a higher pitched moan when the elders cock pressed against his plump ass, arching his back to seek more, to silently beg for his husband to fuck him already. But he knew better than that, Tae wouldn't give in so easily; even if they both knew and desired just that. "You drive me crazy, I love you so mu-uch!" He tensed his leg muscles, desperately trying to hold back how fast his orgasm wanted to creep up on him, whining louder with every stroke provided by the other male. Kook imagined their first time in that dirty locker room, this position way too familiar-- yet so different. Tae back then compared to now was a completely different man; and yet parts remained exactly the same. Just like Taehyung, Jungkook felt younger with his husband, like they're still a pair of horny teenagers. Now, they're just older; and much better at what they're doing. "Please... baby, I need more." Kook glanced over his shoulder, his dark doe eyes pleading to the elder like a puppy. "Stretch my tight ass for you... I want your fat cock in me.."

Koo paused for a moment, grinding his hips back against Tae's cock-- "Daddy..."

“You know me too well, baby..” Taehyung growled into Jungkook’s ear, grunts muffled against the side of Kook’s neck as his hips gained momentum; feeling the delicate skin of his cock glide between Jungkook’s ass, continuously rubbing against his husband’s clenched entrance. “Oh fuck, daddy’s gonna make you feel so good.” His hand’s dragging motion faltered, “Well, he always does, doesn’t he?” Taehyung’s teeth tugged at the back of Kook’s tie, forcefully ungluing the younger’s tinted cheek from the wall, choking him in the slightest. With the piece of fabric securely clamped down in his mouth, Tae tauntingly tilted his head to the side, wearing a sly smile upon properly making out Jungkook’s shift in blissful expressions. He looked too fucking good.. The elder’s hooded glance was casted downwards, admiring how the tip of his cock would pop out with every upward drag, standing tall in between Kook’s cheeks. “Hngh..” Taehyung tugged harder with his teeth, nails sinking deep into the flesh of Jungkook’s hips.

"Y-yeah, always-- ahn...." Jungkook shamelessly rolls his hips against his husband's cock, legs quaking to keep himself up, hands firmly pressed against the wall to keep some kind of leverage as he gasps from the pressure against his neck as he's tugged back. "Please, now-- need more..haah..." He breathes out in a choked whisper, licking his lips until they shine as if they were glazed with gloss. His fingers curled against the wall, not caring that it'd cause marks if he kept going. Nothing else mattered, only the boys-- reckless and messy, just like they've always been. Now that Jungkook was deprived of the friction of Taehyung's hand on his cock, all he could think about was to feel his clenching hole being stretched and filled to the brim, his agile hips continuously grinding back deliciously against the elder, showing him what he's missing out on. "Just shove it in me, I'm dying without it." He pleaded once more, screwing his eyes shut as he prayed for the tease to soon be over with-- he swore he'd combust at any moment if he couldn't have it.

Taehyung’s rigid mouth let go of Jungkook’s tie, letting the damp fabric resume to its spot on the younger’s nape. Now that he was able to, Tae trailed open-mouthed kisses along Kook’s flexed shoulder blades, the fluttering of his eyelashes grazing the man’s soft skin. “Just a little longer, babe. You’re a big boy, you can handle it.” However, Taehyung himself didn’t know just how much longer he could take it either.. He was good at teasing, but it didn’t mean he didn’t want to rearrange Jungkook’s guts right then and there. The elder kept it up for a few extra seconds, continuing to grind against his husband’s ass; his dick sandwiched in between each rosy cheek. But those seconds felt like hours, and that’s when Tae called it off. “Not gonna shove it in you now, at least wait until we’re on the bed, will ya?” His chuckle caused his shoulders to vibrate, and his cock to twitch. “It’s our first time as husbands, let’s be a little classier~”

With one last squeeze to Jungkook’s ass, Tae led them both to the spacious bed, too high on the moment to part their hungry kisses. His hand securely clasped the back of his husband’s neck, deepening their kiss until the back of their shins met the wooden edge of the bed. Taehyung lightly pushed on Kook’s chest, urging him to lay on his back whilst he discarded his dress shirt that the younger had previously unbuttoned, lower lip clasped in between his teeth. Kicking off the pants and boxers pooling at his ankles, Tae proudly showed off his naked physique before situating himself above Jungkook, towering over the younger man. “So gorgeous.. so pretty.. so fuckable.” Despite their difference in size, Taehyung was used to manhandling Koo in the bedroom, so it came naturally. The elder liked to joke that carrying his buff husband around was the reason he’d been gaining extra muscle recently.. “Gonna stretch you out first, but with my tongue.. spread those legs wide for daddy, he wants a taste of you.”

Jungkook's cheeks flushed in pink at the praise and commands hurled his way, nodding as he did as told. Shuffling up further on the bed with his husband on top, he reached behind his knees to spread his legs wide for Taehyung, exposing everything he had to physically offer like a good boy. He just looked so small like this, it was pitiful yet endearing. "With your tongue...?" Kook meekly replied, leaning his head back comfortably against the soft duvet, the blush on his face spreading fast across his features. He felt a bit embarrassed, but... He wanted it. Taehyung was skilled in many aspects, and using his tongue was definitely one of them. "Taste me, please daddy...."

“Gladly, baby.” Taehyung could pinpoint Jungkook’s obvious embarrassment from a mile away, the redness in his cheeks drawing all the more attention to his body’s natural reaction. The elder could relate, but he also knew that at the end, Koo’s initial uneasiness would soon turn into pure lust; Taehyung knew how it went— all too well, in fact. “You look so pretty all spread out for me, yeah you do.. fuuck.” Tae pressed his hands against the backside of Jungkook’s muscular thighs, leaning downwards to meet his feast in the eyes. “So pink ‘n untouched.. but not for long.” The elder’s wet tongue lapped over his husband’s clenched entrance once, giving each of them a small sample of what was to come. “So sweet, too..” Tae’s chaste kisses were sensual around the rim, his fingernails digging deep into Kook’s flesh whilst he steadied himself on his knees.

A drawn out moan passed through Jungkook's parted lips, pressing his head back against the bed. His hands withdrew from his thighs to allow the elder to take over the grip of his legs, his own hands vulnerably laying above his head. His hips jerked lightly at the sensation, his tight entrance twitching from the welcoming warmth teasing around it. "Mmh, yeah.. Feels good.." Koo announced his pleasure in small, breathy whines, indulging in the way his husband is taking care of him, worshiping his body like it was his last meal in this life. Jungkook glanced down at Taehyung, and the sight had his cock throbbing. The elders dark fringe dangled over his eyes, strong arms holding Kook's legs up, the lower part of his face hiding to please and tease with one of Jungkook's most sensitive parts. "Fuck, you're so hot.." Koo was already losing any sense of embarrassment, all he could feel was the overwhelming lust drowning him-- tunnel visioned on his husband, and his husband only.

“Fuck, I know,” Tae outwardly agreed like the cocky bastard he was, allowing his mouth to linger close to the milky skin of Jungkook’s thighs, ghosting over the smooth flesh with his plush lips. “Gonna finger you first, I know how much you love that.” The elder’s tongue slightly peeked out of the corner of his lips, switching his utmost attention to Koo’s hole; and as if an indescribable pull had taken over his senses, Taehyung’s middle finger sank in without a warning. The man was still leaning down, too focused on the way Jungkook swallowed his slender digit to look away. Soon enough, Tae added in another finger.. and another; and like a small child in a candy store, he was amazed by how much his husband could endure. His eyes were shining with anticipation, mouth watering from the simple sight.. The scissoring motions inside of Kook came to a halt, and as soon as he pulled out his dripping digits, Taehyung’s lean tongue snuck its way past the gaping opening. It was a new feeling.. he’d eaten out plenty of girls before in his High School days, but having his tongue deep inside of Koo felt new— not necessarily a bad kind of new. Shit, he was so warm and.. pleasant. Taehyung’s eyes were fluttered shut, relishing in the way he flicked his tongue in the compact space, scolding himself for not doing this sooner.

"Yeah, yea- oh god..." Jungkook's moans from the familiar fingers broke into a gasp at the new sensation of Taehyung's warm, wet, firm tongue smoothing his insides, his thighs trembling in Tae's hands. "Holy shit..." Koo almost chuckles in disbelief at the fact they hadn't done this the other way sooner, placing his hand over his face to wipe his clammy skin, cheeks flushed red. "I see why you like this so much now, wow..." Jungkook ran his fingers through his hair, slightly dry from the residue of the product, taking deep breaths as he closed his eyes, allowing himself to truly focus on the wet muscle exploring his most intimate parts. "Feels so good.."

The constant shower of praise and moans of approval amped up Taehyung’s slowly diminishing confidence. He didn’t know if he was doing any good— until Koo decided to open his mouth. He gripped tighter onto his husband’s inner thighs, knuckles turning white from his secure handle. The elder’s skilled tongue lapped at every reachable inch of Jungkook’s insides, humming in pure delight at the new taste he’s grown fond of. It didn’t take long, once and Taehyung was hooked.. “Oh wow, you taste so fucking good,” Tae murmured under his heavy breath once he’d pulled away for a quick second, gathering extra spit in his mouth before aiming at Kook’s swollen hole. He placed kitten licks on the entrance, lips slightly puckered as he roughly fucked his tongue in and out of Jungkook, one hand sneaking up to toy with the younger’s warm balls.

Jungkook's hands instinctively reached for Taehyung, combing his fingers through his dark curls as his moans had gradually grown breathier and louder. "Uh huh-- shit, you're so good at that.." Jungkook mindlessly spits his verbal reassurance of the pleasure he's put through, his words coming out as high pitched whines. Kooks hips squirm for more, greedy and needy in every sense of the word. He was an absolute puddle for his husband, always have been, always will be. "I love you, I fucking love you... please, need your cock so bad, noooow..."

The elder withdrew his mouth from Jungkook’s ass, warm spit glistening around his blood-fueled lips and the tip of his nose, making Taehyung look all the more fucked as he gazed down at Kook; making a show out of the way he slipped his tongue back in his mouth, moaning deeply whilst he savored the rest of his husband. Didn’t taste overly sweet, and that Taehyung liked.. “Wanna eat you out everyday now..” Koo’s pink entrance was slick from Tae’s previous work, the rim spread wide enough for him to poke the head of his cock through— “Shit..” Taehyung’s tip was immersed in between Jungkook’s flesh, and soon enough was the rest of his long, thick length. The younger always takes him in so well.. The first time 18-year-old Tae slipped inside of Kook might’ve been a lot to take in, but they’ve both gotten used to each other’s bodies throughout the years they’ve been together.

“Fuck, you good?” Taehyung’s veiny hand guided his dick to a more comfortable position, his long fringe falling down to his eyes. “I love you so fucking much, Koo, fuck.” The elder threw his husband’s legs over his broad shoulders, resting his muscular arms beside Jungkook’s head before beginning to grind into his man, starting at a slow pace. It was their honeymoon.. it had to be somewhat romantic. “I can’t believe you’re my husband— hngh..” Tae grunted out loud, “I-I can’t wait to have a family with you, yeah.. fuck, wanna grow old with you ‘n do everything t-together— so tight..”

"Mhm, yes." Jungkook nodded, his calloused fingers grasping around Taehyung's lower arms tightly, blunt nails digging into the skin for his own sake, he needed to claw at something to release the overwhelming warmth that spread throughout his body. "So good, I love you-- shit, I love being your husband." Koo's eyebrows were tightly knit together as he stared up at Tae with his doe eyes, his blurry vision glazed over with every single emotion he could possess at a moment like this.

Lust, love, relief.

He was just as whipped for the man on top of him as he'd always been, for years already-- and he had no doubt that this was his forever after.

Jungkook bit back a raspy moan when Tae's cock finally started to tease at his prostate, eyes fluttering in bliss, struggling to keep his gaze focused any longer, simply drowning in how amazing it felt to feel his husband's hips grind into him with the utmost affection. It was fantastic, but knowing the younger man-- slow only pleased him for so long... "A-ah, your cock is so big... I love it, fuck, more... Please, Mr. Jeon.." He purred, deliberately clenching his warm flesh around the elder's turgid length, the hint of mischief sparkling in the younger's eyes.

Tae burrowed his face in the crook of Jungkook’s neck, their bodies’ shine mingling with one another whilst Taehyung sweetly kissed the pale skin, tasting the slight saltiness of his husband’s sweat on his lips. He licked over them, allowing them to hang open as grunts and groans made themselves known in the room. The elder wasn’t shy when it came to the noises he made in the bedroom; he wanted to let Koo know just how good he was making him feel.. His husband held a tight grip on his cock, causing it to twitch in anticipation as Tae gradually thrusted deeper into him. “Love it when you call me that— hmph..!” His balls smacked harder against the younger’s ass, squelching sounds taking over the invisible bubble they’ve made for themselves. “Fuck..” It came out as a hoarse whisper, and one of Taehyung’s hands snuck between their bodies to grasp onto Jungkook’s cock, giving the stiff skin a few delicious strokes. “So good..”

"Aa-aah*..!" Jungkook snapped his head from one side to the other, pressing his flushed cheek against the bed. His body trembled like a leaf at the added sensation, a drawn out moan in relief, finally touched where it ached the most. He felt like he'd been a really good boy then and there to finally earn this as a reward. "I f-feel good? fuck--" His voice was strained and wobbly, every thrust choking his words. "Tell me, tell me please... How good I make you feel."

Koo knew already, the sounds his husband was making gave him no doubt about the pleasure his body brought upon the elder. But Jungkook loved to verbally hear it. Almost like back when Taehyung had gone overseas, and all they had were FaceTime. Even though they could easily look at each other through their screens-- the verbal aspect of it was Kook's favorite. And it stuck with him since, hearing that deep voice his husband possessed tell him the most filthy of things, and the highest of praise; it turned Jungkook on.

Taehyung’s head tilted upwards, the fringe no longer as smooth. Instead the dark hairs stuck together by a thin layer of sweat on his creased forehead, giving him little access to truly look into Jungkook’s doe eyes whilst he grumbled out his next words; “Your insides are always so fucking tight, no matter how many times I push my cock in you— hngh.. it never fails to drive me crazy..” The elder snapped faster into Koo, having yet to withdraw his hand from Jungkook’s dick whilst he thrusted into him at an animalistic pace, feeling the head of his cock prod at his husband’s abused prostate. “You’re so warm, too.. the warmest I’ve felt in a really long fuckin’ time. Fuck.. so soft. You make me feel so good.” Still jerking Koo off, Tae’s mouth wrapped around one of the boy’s nipples, swirling his wet tongue around the bud before lightly nibbling on it. He quickly flicked the awakened nip with his tongue, humming into the skin.

"Fuck yes, oh my good, Taehyung..." Jungkook's whiny moans turned into sobs, his abs flexing as they tightened in rapture, the pool of heat quickly ramping up in his lower abdomen. The continous prodding of his sensitive prostate drove him mad. "I'm gonna c-cum, I'm clo-ose, ahhn..." His eyes were filled with desperation, sparkling with the layer of tears and admiration swirling within them. He was completely transfixed on his husband, absolutely whipped for the attention his body is given in so many various ways at the moment. Taehyung's cock, his mouth, his hand. It was overwhelming as hell. Jungkook could easily feel his own cock drool with precum, his thick length swelling to full hardness as if it was about to explode at any moment. All he needed was just-- one. small. push.

Taehyung’s release was also knocking at his door, begging to be spread across Jungkook’s fleshy insides as every thrust of his cock dragged Tae’s energy down bit by bit. “G-gonna cum inside, so close..” Eager to make Koo break down along with him, Taehyung’s grip on his husband’s dick tightened, feeling the stickiness of the younger’s precum cover his fidgeting fingers; easing the slide of his sore hand. “I love you, I love you— a-ahh.. fuuck I-I’m cumming so much.” Spurts of warm white shot into Jungkook, dribbling out of the latter’s entrance as it was too much to hold in despite his cock staying still in its place.

“Wow.. so, does this officially make us husbands now?” The elder’s voice was raspy as he teased, breath hitching once he pulled out of Jungkook to lay on his back, chest heaving whilst he blankly stared at the ceiling. It felt different, yet not different at all.

Jungkook's clammy chest heaved up and down and placed one hand on top of his skin, mindlessly rubbing at his peck as he chuckled. The aftermath of his own orgasm still pulsated in his softening length, the pool of his release warm on his lower stomach. "Yeah, it does." Kook's voice was just as hoarse. He turned his face towards his husband with a small, toothy grin on his face. They were both exhausted, definitely sobered up, and.. sticky, to say the least. But, content nonetheless. Jungkook couldn't have imagined a better way to spend their first wedding night together.

"Hey." His voice lowered, eyes heavy on the elder as he scuffed closer, pressing a soft kiss on Tae's arm.

"I love you. Can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you, Mr. Jeon."

#fic: wedding night #taekook smut #vkook smut #taehyung x jungkook #boymeetsmxm #bangtanarmynet #bts smut #bts mxm #taehyung smut #jungkook smut #dom taehyung #sub jungkook #sombreboy

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foramomentonly · 3 years

Text

Stoner Malex Ficlet--12.13

Author’s Note: So, this is a series now, I guess lol. I’ll be writing little ficlets within the Stoner Malex AU, each one based on a promo photo from Vlambase IG. The title of each ficlet will be the date the picture that inspired it was posted, plus I’ll include a link. Hope you enjoy!

Inspo photo

Read on AO3

The wheel of the lighter snicks three times as Michael flicks it, but no flame ignites. He tsks softly and shakes it, tries again, but his fingers feel thick and clumsy; no go. He glances over at Alex beside him on the couch, flipping with little interest through one of Mrs. Evans's magazines, but he doesn't look up, tired and a little dazed from his shift at the Crashdown. He's still in his cuffed, white work pants, but he pulled on one of Michael's countless hoodies the moment he walked into Michael's room, hating the garish turquoise and crisp white collar of his work shirt. Michael's cheeks flush at the sight of Alex Manes in an item of his own clothing, and he vows never to tell Alex that he actually loves the contrast of his uniform's bright blue against the warm tone of Alex's skin. Assuming Alex would even be interested in that kind of information. Michael intends to find out today.

Three weeks. It's been three weeks since Alex slid into his lap, shotgunned a hit of the truly awful shit Michael had bought off Wyatt Long in a pinch, and fulfilled a deeply erotic fantasy Michael had only recently admitted to harbouring. He'd expected it to be a one off; an itch Alex conveniently and safely scratched born of circumstance and boredom. But a few days later, Michael discovered Rosa in Iz’s room, painting his sister's toenails and smirking at him with her twinkling, mischievous eyes, and when Michael returned to the refuge of his patio, Alex was sitting in his chair.

"I brought you the good stuff, Guerin," he said with a sly smile, holding up a baggie with two joints and a Bic lighter as Michael stood uselessly beside him with his mouth open. Alex bit his lip and gestured to his own lap. "Your turn this time."

Even since that day, Alex shows up with Rosa, and always he seeks Michael out on his dingy patio like the smell of skunk weed and sunlight is a beacon calling him home. Sometimes Alex drops into the lawn chair Michael dug out of storage in the Evans's garage for him after Alex's third visit and they talk, or get high, or even do homework. Other times, Alex comes up behind him and runs his fingers through Michael's curls, blunt nails dragging down his scalp, and Michael stands, follows Alex back into his own bedroom, and spends the next few hours pressed against him, grasping and bucking, Alex's panted breathes hot and wet against Michael's mouth.

But they don’t talk about what they’re doing, what they are to each other. They don’t make plans for next time, although at this point Michael is almost always certain it will come. Alex exists almost as a mirage; a beautiful, nearly tangible fantasy that feels so real in the moment, but after the fact has the effect of a dream, lucid and lingering on the tip of his tongue. Michael isn't even sure how much either Rosa or Isobel knows until they bust in on him one afternoon, sucking Alex down like his dick is a popsicle. It's awkward in the moment, but ultimately they're supportive.

Since then, Michael and Alex have expanded the radius of their relationship to the Evans’s family room, a multipurpose space at the back of the house, cluttered and well-used, but still meticulously decorated. It’s where they are this Sunday afternoon, packed close together despite the empty expanse of the couch, Alex lounging in the corner, bare feet on the cushion and legs splayed wide, and Michael beside him, leaning forward with a candle in one hand and the finicky lighter in the other. Rosa and Isobel are tucked on the love seat together, Isobel’s nose still wrinkled in distaste.

“Light a damn candle,” she’d complained when they’d shuffled into the room, “you smell like a Radiohead concert.”

Michael isn't sure if it's his nerves or the cheap, gas station lighter that's to blame, but it takes him five rounds of flicking and shaking before the thing finally sparks a small flame, and he can tip the nearly spent candle in his hand horizontal, holding the wick to the flame until it catches alight. He sets the candle on the low coffee table in front of him and wipes his palms on his black jeans, fingers snagging in the tears of the worn denim. He wonders hysterically if raggedly jeans and an oversized, novelty tee-shirt really send strong date me vibes, but pushes the thought aside and takes a deep, steadying breath.

“Alex,” Michael says softly, and Alex hums questioningly in response.

“You wanna come with me tonight?”

“Where’re you going?” Alex asks distantly, not quite disengaging from the magazine on his knee.

Michael shrugs, faking casual, and licks his lips.

“Restaurant. Movie theatre.” He raises his eyebrows suggestively and smirks when Alex looks up at him, his full attention finally won. “Bed of my truck, maybe.”

From the opposite corner of the room, Rosa snorts.

“You sure know how to woo a guy,” she laughs, and Isobel chuckles, runs her fingers through Rosa’s hair and chides gently, “Go easy on him. It’s his first real crush.”

"I don't remember inviting you or your commentary into this," Michael snaps, but there's no heat to his words. He turns back to Alex and finds himself the subject of Alex's inscrutable stare, his dark eyes like wide, bottomless pools.

"Like a date," Alex states. "You want to date me."

Michael tries to ignore Isobel and Rosa gawking openly at them, their gazes hot on the back of his neck.

"Yeah, I do, man," Michael replies, looks up at Alex from under his lashes and lets a curl fall into his eyes for good measure; he knows his own strengths, knows by now what makes Alex's breath come quicker, or not at all.

Alex smiles wide, sets the tip of his tongue between his bared teeth.

"Okay," he says simply, then leans forward to whisper low in Michael's ear, "You think I walk around in just anyone's sweatshirt?"

Michael's lips stretch into what he's sure is a deeply stupid grin as Alex settles back against the arm of the couch with a smirk and returns to his magazine, though he's clearly not reading a word. Isobel and Rosa snicker and coo, and Michael pretends not to hear them.

"Candle's out again," Alex says lightly, and Michael looks down at the table, where the wick is, in fact, dead, exhaling a thin, trickly ribbon of black smoke.

"Shit," Michael murmurs, and reaches again for the lighter, jar already in hand.

#cw: weed #malex #stoner malex au #teen malex #roswell new mexico #malex fic #alex manes #michael guerin #rosa ortecho #isobel evans #background rosabel #roswell nm fic

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waynedunlaptheorgandonor · 3 years

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for those of you who wanted to read the like, 4k words/chapter and a half of the “maybe it’s just us” sequel (i titled it “the road from where we been to where we’re going” in case you were curious) i started two years ago and then abandoned, here you go. i did not edit it, so what you see is what you get (not that that’s any different from anything else i’ve ever written in my life ig):

Chapter 1

You are You

Carol

“I can't change her, she's doing the thing,” Daryl said anxiously over the sound of high-pitched infant cries.

“What thing?” asked Carol. Her body was spent; she couldn't remember the last time she was this tired. She was sore, stitched, and her insides were trying to remember how to take care of one instead of two. From over in the corner, Daryl had their daughter on her back on a desk that was functioning as a makeshift changing table, and from the sounds of it, neither of them were doing that well.

“That flailin’ thing with her arms. She thinks she's fallin’. Shh, shh, baby, it's okay, I ain't gonna drop you, please don't cry.” His voice was so tense and scared, and Carol felt guilty for smiling, thankful his back was to her.

“She's fine, Daryl, why do you think she thinks she's falling?”

“'Cause it's true,” Daryl insisted. “Glenn—there you go, lil’ one, we got that on you, now lemme just figure out all these damn snaps—Glenn told me about it. It's some reflex babies have. When they flail their arms like this it means they think they're fallin’. Sarah even said so, so I know it ain't bullshit—goddamn, why is this thing so hard to snap? Baby, if you stopped kickin’ your legs so much, we'd be done already.”

“You aren't allowed to spend time alone with Glenn anymore,” Carol said, as Daryl finished torturing their child (or was she torturing him?). She took Rose from him and tucked her into the crook of her arm.

Carol hadn't really processed it yet. This baby that had been inside her for the past nine months had been out in the world with them for hours now, and she wasn't convinced it was real.

From the moment she peed on that stick and it glared positive, to as recently as 24 hours ago, Carol hadn't allowed herself to believe that this could possibly end well. She was too old, she figured, too stressed, too downright unlucky. When Daryl told her he wanted to keep the baby, she'd almost been angry; she'd hoped he'd make the hard decision so she wouldn't have to, and when he didn't, she found she couldn't either. How could she look him in the face and say, 'I want to get rid of it,’ when he had so much faith in their ability to do this?

And now they had a baby. In Carol's arms, Rose whimpered, sticking her thumb in her mouth and suckling.

She looked nothing like Sophia. If Carol had a baby picture of Sophia—which, of course, she didn't—and held it up to Rose, she bet no one in a million years would have ever guessed they were sisters. Everything of Carol's that Sophia had, Rose had the opposite. Sophia had had Carol's eyes; Rose had Daryl's. Sophia had had Ed's nose; Rose had hers. There was nothing familiar about looking at Rose, as Carol had both feared and hoped. She had wondered if meeting her new child would be like seeing a ghost, and she almost wished for it, if only because she wanted to see Sophia again.

But Rose wasn't Sophia, and she made sure to demonstrate that clearly. Sophia had been meek and quiet, even as an infant, but Rose was not remotely shy about letting them know when she was displeased.

Like right now, for example, as her tiny whimpers around her thumb turned into full-blown wails. Daryl tensed beside them on the bed.

“What's wrong?” he asked. He had asked that about every new noise Rose had made since birth. He was so much a new parent that Carol would have found it endearing if she weren't so tired.

Rose had tricked them. Just as exhausted as Carol, she had spent her first few hours on the planet in a deep sleep, lulling them into a sense of calm, even granting Carol a bit of a nap, but the second she woke up, she was ready to make demands.

“She's hungry,” Carol said. She'd attempted to get Rose to nurse earlier, but the baby had trouble latching, and was too tired to try that hard, and she was paying for it now, clearly having woken up with an empty belly. Carol maneuvered herself so she could offer her breast to Rose. She moved Rose's hand out of the way, and tried to get her to seek out Carol on her own, but instead she just cried and brought her thumb back to her mouth.

“You can't eat and suck your thumb at the same time,” Carol said, trying not to get frustrated.

When Sophia was born, she had rested on Carol's chest, skin-to-skin, and had latched perfectly on her own within the hour, and it had been a precious bonding moment—a precious bonding moment that Rose was adamantly refusing to have, despite her obvious hunger.

“C'mon kid, this ain't a five star restaurant, you don't get to be choosey,” Daryl said, rubbing Rose's back. Rose screamed bloody murder in response.

“It's right there, if you'd stop crying long enough to see it,” Carol said, trying and failing to not think about how Sophia had snuggled in close to her and had let Carol stroke her hand while she nursed. She had needed her mother right away, so why was Rose fighting her?

After several more minutes of this, Carol was getting overwhelmed. She thrust Rose at Daryl, who took her instinctively, and said, “Take her, please just take her, I need a minute.” She pressed the palms of her hands to her eyes and willed herself not to cry.

“Hey, you okay?” Daryl asked, adjusting Rose in his arms so that he could lean over and put a hand on Carol's shoulder.

“Fine, I'm just tired and wish she'd eat,” Carol said, not uncovering her eyes.

“It's just new to her, she'll get the hang of it,” Daryl insisted. Carol dropped her hands and, looking at him helplessly, said,

“It was never hard with Sophia,” and maybe it was months worth of worry coming to a head, maybe it was exhaustion, maybe it was hormones and frustration, or maybe it was the fact that she had been trying to pretend like this wasn't bringing all her grief back to surface, but Carol burst into tears; genuine tears, big, wet, and rolling down her face, and poor Daryl, bless him, was caught between his daughter and his girlfriend, as they both sobbed inconsolably.

“Shit,” Carol heard Daryl mutter. He pulled her to him, and she let him. He wrapped an arm around her tight, and allowed her to bury her face in his shoulder and bawl.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” Carol said over and over, voice muffled. She wasn't sure if she was apologizing to Daryl for breaking down, or to Rose for being so shithouse at mothering already.

Daryl was muttering words of encouragement to her, while also trying to shush the fussing baby. Through her tears, Carol heard the door to the Warden's office open and close.

“Everything okay in here?” came Sarah's voice. What a stupid question, thought Carol. Yeah, we're peachy; the baby and I are just sobbing for fun! Ridiculous.

“We're fine,” said Daryl, as Carol tried to get control of herself, taking in deep breaths, but not lifting her head. “Lil’ one is havin’ trouble eating, and Carol's a bit... overwhelmed.”

“Do you need help getting her to latch?” Sarah asked.

“I know how to breastfeed, she just won't do it,” Carol snapped into Daryl's shoulder, harsher than she intended.

“Alright,” Sarah said calmly. “Do you want me to take Rose for a minute to give you a chance to breathe?”

“No,” Daryl said, sounding as harsh as Carol had. She wasn't surprised—he had caught the baby when she was born, and had hardly put her down since. Carol could tell he was reluctant to give her up even when he was passing Rose to her. His protectiveness had gone into overdrive the moment he and Rose met.

“Well,” Sarah said, sounding uncertain. “You know where to find me if you need me. Your friends keep asking for updates, by the way. I'll try and keep them away for a while longer.”

Daryl grunted something in response, and Carol clung to him, hiccuping, but not as hysterical. She waited until Sarah's footsteps went towards the door and she left the room before lifting her head up to look at Daryl.

“Hey,” he said quietly, looking at her with concern. “You wanna tell me what that was about?”

Not especially. What she wanted was to feed her daughter and then sleep for fourteen hours.

“Gotta deal with the baby,” she said.

“She ain't goin’ nowhere,” Daryl said, shifting so he could bounce Rose gently. She continued to cry, and Carol's body physically reacted to the sound, desperately aching to feed her. Carol shook her head.

“I'm just tired and got frustrated,” Carol said dismissively.

“Nah, it's more than that,” Daryl countered. “That was the first time you've said her name.”

Carol's lower lip trembled dangerously. She took a deep breath to steady herself. Of course Daryl would see right through her like glass.

“I feel so guilty,” she said, wincing at the crack in her watery voice. “I told myself I'd treat her like her own person, and already I'm making comparisons. No wonder she doesn't want me. But I don't know how to stop thinking about Sophia.” She let out a singular sob, and Daryl reached out and wiped a tear from her face

“Thinkin’ ‘bout Sophia don’t mean you don't love Rose,” he told her gently. “You miss your little girl, and you're exhausted, and it's bringin’ it all back up. Anyone would lose their shit over it, so don't go feelin’ guilty.”

Carol swallowed hard. “I don't get to lose my shit, I have to be her mother.”

“You lose your shit when you need to. I'm here to pick up the slack.”

“Yeah, well, you gonna breastfeed her, too?” It came out more irritable than joking, but Daryl smiled anyway.

“Nah,” he said. “Imma help you do it, though.” He handed Rose over. Carol was reluctant, not wanting to fail again, but Daryl was calm, and it made her calmer. She lowered the collar of her gown and presented her breast to her screaming daughter once more.

“That damn thumb. Just do that here and you'd be golden,” Carol mumbled.

“You're all tense,” Daryl said. “She don't know nothin’ about what you've lost, and she don't feel any resentment, but she can tell her momma's freaking out and it's freaking her out.”

“Since when are you a lactation consultant?”

“I dunno what that means.”

“When did you become an expert on getting babies to nurse?”

“I ain't an expert in anything havin’ to do with babies, but when you tense up, so does she. Look—her shoulders are all drawn up to her neck. She wasn't doin’ that when she was cryin’ earlier. You're her momma and she can feel it when you're unhappy, so we gotta get you calmer.”

An odd mix of affection and envy washed over Carol. Daryl observed and knew the people he loved so intrinsically that he was already picking up mannerisms on a person who hadn't been alive even a full day yet. Meanwhile, Carol couldn't even get her to do the one thing Rose needed her exclusively for.

“How?” Carol asked.

“Hum somethin’,” Daryl said with certainty. Carol furrowed her brow.

“Why?”

“You said all the time that whenever there was music she'd go batshit in there. Maybe she likes music.”

“Why don't you hum something then?”

“I don't do music. 'Sides, you're the one she needs right now.”

This was stupid, Carol decided, and Rose seemed to agree, yelling at her, absolutely red in the face. Carol sighed, and hummed the first thing that came to mind. After a few lines, Daryl huffed a breath of puzzled laughter.

“Is that Horse with No Name?” he asked. “Some lullaby.”

“It was on the CD you were playing on that old stereo when you were out skinning those rabbits the other day,” Carol said defensively. “It's been stuck in my head for ages.”

“Don't let me stop you.”

“Now I'm embarrassed.”

“Nah, don't be, look,” he nodded down at Rose. “She's calmin’ down. I mean, she's still pissed as all get out, but she's settling down. 'Sides, I like that song.”

“The others are gonna think we're torturing her.”

“Tell 'em it was me.”

“Tell them you were the one making her cry, or that you were the one crying?”

Daryl snorted. “Whatever makes you feel better.”

Carol smiled a little, feeling lighter. She leaned back against Daryl and continued to hum. Rose's screams fell to cries which fell to whimpers. She opened her big, blue eyes and sought out the sound of the music.

“Oh!” Carol startled a minute later, when Rose finally found her breast and latched on. She turned to Daryl in awe. “How'd you know that would work?”

Daryl shrugged.

“I know her,” he said simply. “You do, too, you just got other shit to deal with that makes it harder. Don't you worry, though, I still don't know half the shit I should. You'll be helpin’ me next.”

“That's how it's supposed to be, I think,” Carol said quietly, the room suddenly unfamiliar without the ringing of Rose’s cries. “A partnership. I never had that before.” She ran a hand over the top of Rose's soft head, which was covered in thin, red hair. Now that she accepted it, the baby was now eating like she was famished, and Carol couldn't help but laugh.

“You think she's gonna be this stubborn forever?” Daryl asked.

“You're the one who knows her, you tell me.”

“Nah,” Daryl said, grinning. “She won't be this stubborn. Being part me and part you? She's only gonna get worse.”

Daryl was finally asleep. Carol was beginning to think he was going to try and just stay up forever, for fear of missing a single moment of Rose's life, and frankly, if anyone could pull that off, it'd be him, but alas, it seemed his body finally got the better of him. He was curled on his side, breathing lightly though his mouth, one hand touching Carol's thigh, as though, even in sleep, he had to make sure she and Rose were within reach. She'd have to address that eventually, before his protectiveness got smothering, but for now she appreciated it. It felt nice to be so deeply loved.

Unlike her father, Rose was not asleep, but she wasn't fussing, either. She was alert in Carol's arms, taking it all in. Carol watched her, trying to see the things Daryl saw. Mostly, she just thought about how difficult it was gonna be to wean her from thumb sucking, since Rose seemed to have some magnetic attachment to the damn thing.

It hurt more than she wanted to admit, having Rose and not having Sophia, and as much as Daryl tried to tell her otherwise, she felt crushing guilt, because Rose didn't deserve to live in the shadow of a ghost. Carol loved this new little girl so much. She was bright-eyed and beautiful, and Carol could see the subtle hints of Daryl in her facial expressions already, and that was both heartwarming and hilarious, to see a newborn look so grumpy.

But Sophia refused to leave Carol alone—she lingered, haunting her with memories of what she'd been and what she could have become.

Carol knew Sophia hadn't been built for this world, and she was confident Rose could survive it, because this was her world; it was the only thing she would know. That didn't mean it didn't hurt, though. If anything, it only made the cuts go deeper still.

“I'm gonna tell you my biggest secret right now so we start this relationship out with all the cards on the table, okay?” Carol whispered to Rose. Rose's eyes darted towards her, and watched as though she were truly paying attention. Carol said, “I'm a little broken, and I'm gonna make mistakes.

“You had a sister, and a part of me is always gonna be buried with her, but the rest of my heart is all yours. I don't want you to ever think I love you less, or wish you were her, because I don't, and I won't. I want you for exactly the person you are. But sweetheart, I'm gonna hurt sometimes, and I won't always be able to be the mother I want to be, but in those moments, you can't ever think it's because of you. You're the one who's always going to bring me back. You and your father, you're everything.

“I've made bad choices—far too many—but you are not one of them, Rose. You were a hard decision I will never regret. You are wanted, you are loved, and most importantly, you are you, and don't ever think I would change that for the world.”

Carol held a finger to Rose's free hand, and a tiny fist wrapped around it. They locked eyes, blue on blue, and Carol finally saw her new daughter for the very first time.

***

Chapter 2

Want For Nothing

Daryl

Cooing. There was so much cooing. Everybody was fucking cooing, and they were passing Rose back and forth like a football, and Daryl was going to lose his mind.

“Relax,” Carol said in his ear. He scowled. By the time dawn came, the two of them could no longer delay the inevitable—their family was demanding to meet the newest addition. Which, sure, fine, whatever, but did that mean they all had to hold her? Daryl's arms felt unbearably empty as he watched Glenn with suspicion while he rocked Rose to-and-fro.

“She's got your grouchy face look down pat,” Glenn said. “Good to know your newborn daughter is just as impressed by me as you are.”

That made Daryl feel a little better.

“I think she looks like Carol,” Maggie said, taking Rose from Glenn and cradling her. “In the nose and mouth, at least. Those are definitely Daryl's eyes.”

“I can't believe she's a ginger,” Beth giggled, peering over her sister's shoulder.

“How are you feeling, Carol?” asked Michonne.

“Exhausted,” she said with a tired smile. “But happy.”

“Sarah said the birth went perfectly; didn't need me at all,” Hershel said.

“All things considered, it couldn't have gone better,” Carol agreed. “But don't ask me about it until I've had a bit of time to repress the memory of the pain.”

“I didn't make it to five centimeters before I was screaming for drugs, I’m impressed,” said Michonne.

“How's it feel to be a dad, Daryl?” Rick asked.

It was the best thing he'd ever been, and he'd really like to have his daughter back so he could get back to parenting, thank you very much.

“‘S good,” he mumbled.

“Don’t let him fool you. He held a piss in for two hours because he didn't want to leave her. Did you know he was the one who caught her? I'm sure he's about to have an aneurysm from you all holding her, but is too polite to say,” Carol said, smiling sweetly at him.

“Ain't too polite. You told me I wasn't allowed to yell at nobody for touching her.”

“I was trying to keep that fact between us.”

“Mm.”

“Should we give her back now?” asked Maggie, grinning.

“Yes,” said Daryl.

“No, you haven't all had a chance yet. Michonne? Carl?”

“We ain't letting Carl hold her, he's just a kid.”

“Daryl,” Carol said flatly. “He holds Judith all the time.”

“I feel sorry for anything, walker or otherwise, that tries to threaten this kid,” Glenn said, running a hand over Rose's soft head. “Daryl is so possessive he'd rip them so many new assholes until there was nothing left.”

He was not wrong.

Daryl blew a thin breath of air through tight lips as Rose was handed over to Carl. It was a testament to how much he loved Carol that he hadn't already leapt up from the bed and stolen his child back.

“If looks could kill, you'd be obliterated right now,” Glenn told Carl. Carl glanced up at Daryl and blanched. Daryl, not realizing quite how murderous he must look, tried to rearrange his face into something in the neighborhood of encouraging. More than likely he just looked pained, but that was the best they were gonna get.

“Do you think Rose and Judith will get along?” asked Carl. He held his index finger out and Rose wrapped her entire tiny hand around it. Daryl's lip twitched up, just the tiniest bit, in spite of himself.

“They gotta, or it's gonna be real exhausting for them to live together,” he said.

“I bet they'll be best friends,” Michonne said.

“You and Glenn should have a baby,” Beth said to Maggie with a shit-eating grin. “Then they'd all be close together in age.”

“Maybe,” Maggie said, glancing at her father, who appeared a little conflicted, but didn't object.

“Judith and Rose would probably team up and pick on our kid,” Glenn said. That actually made Daryl snort. Glenn glared at him. Daryl just shrugged.

“Okay, let me see her before Mr. Grouchy over there banishes us,” said Michonne, taking her turn. She smiled a sad sort of smile at Rose. It was the same smile Daryl had seen both her and Carol make at Asskicker. It was a smile that read of bittersweetness; of love and loss at the same time.

Daryl had been a parent for roughly a day, give or take, and already he couldn't fathom the idea of losing that baby. He'd known Carol had hurt when Sophia died, and he could hear the pain in Michonne's voice whenever she mentioned her lost child, but he never really understood how deep that suffering must go. Just the mere thought of losing Rose gutted him—how did these two women get up every day with holes that big?

Rose began to wriggle around in Michonne's arms, and started to fuss a little, which Daryl was quickly learning was her way of warning them she was about to get mad. Despite who her parents were, that kid had no qualms about letting everyone know how she was feeling, loudly and with gusto.

“Sounds like she's telling us it's time to let her be with mom and dad,” Michonne said over Rose's cautionary whimpers. She handed her over to Daryl, who felt instant relief as soon as Rose was in his arms again.

“She's hungry,” Carol said apologetically. “She had trouble eating there at the beginning, but now that she's got the hang of it she acts like she's famished.”

“We'll give you some privacy, then,” said Rick, ushering everyone towards the door.

“We'll probably go back to our cell later tonight. We've just been too tired to bother,” Carol explained.

“We understand,” Maggie told her.

“Congrats, you guys,” said Glenn.

They all said their goodbyes, with Carol saying them back, but Daryl was distracted. Rose was staring up at him with a pouty lower lip, and in that instant the literal only thing he wanted was to make her happy again.

“You gotta feed her so she stops looking at me like that,” Daryl said to Carol before the door to the office had even been fully closed.

“Like what?” Carol asked, reaching out to take the baby, and pulling out her breast in a way that already seemed habitual.

“Sad.”

“She's not sad, she's just hungry,” Carol said with a light laugh, propping Rose up on a nursing pillow Daryl had gotten back on that run to the birth center.

“She cries about it, though.”

“Daryl. Babies cry about everything. It's how they communicate.”

He knew that, of course, but he didn't like it. If it were up to him, Rose would never want for anything. He wanted to anticipate her every need so she never felt uncomfortable or scared or sad. He wanted her to be happy.

What a horrifying thought.

Daryl anticipated his role as a parent to be about providing—providing food, shelter, safety—but he never once entertained the idea that it would be up to him to provide his daughter with happiness.

“I don't know how to make her happy when everything except you and her is bullshit,” he said. Carol frowned at him.

“Daryl, I told you she's fine, she just needs—”

“I don't mean right now,” Daryl interrupted. “I mean for the rest of her life, how do I give her what she deserves? Even if the world weren't the way it is, I ain't never been happy. Not before her; before you.”

Poor Carol, thought Daryl, having to deal with him running his mouth over abstract fears so soon after walking barefoot through the fires of Hell to bring an entire human being to life. To her credit, she spared him of exasperation. As always, she showered him with kindness he didn't feel entitled to. She said,

“No one is happy all the time. If they were, then happiness would have no meaning. There are going to be times when you're going to have to do the worst thing you can imagine.”

“What's that?” Daryl asked, anxiety mounting.

“Sometimes, you're going to have to let her be unhappy.”

#i liked this story #it was a nice place to start in this fandom #caryl #caryl fic #miju #dunlap writes shit #or wrote shit #once upon a time

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