#I just had an idea in my mind for chapter 18

[foreverisntenough]

‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend.  You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy? 

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, slight mention of dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Disclaimer: No one is crazy about him atm, me included, so this is strictly for my readers and my readers only. I don’t condone his behavior at all -Just let me finish out this fic please. Don’t come for me. I’m only a girl with a google doc whose spent hours upon hours and days on end on this fic

Chapter 12 - 'Monaco’ | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 11.3k

You crawled into Trent’s bed that night, the weight of the party and the fading liquor settling over both of you like a heavy blanket. The room was still, the only sound the soft rustle of sheets as you burrowed into him, pressing your cheek to his chest. His arm wrapped instinctively around you, holding you close, and for a moment, it felt like nothing in the world could intrude on this quiet, safe space. But then, like a sharp snap, reality crept in. Thoughts you’d been pushing aside bubbled up, tugging at your peace.

“T…” you began hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper. He hummed, ready to listen, tired albeit. “Are we ever going to tell people?” You felt him tense slightly beneath you, his hand stilling on your back. You bit your lip, already regretting the question. It wasn’t that you didn’t love the secret moments with him—those were some of the happiest of your life—but lately, the lines between private and public were blurring and not in the way you’d hope.

“Baby,” he started softly, his tone careful. “We gotta think about this.” His hesitation sent a small pang through your chest. Trent wasn’t just stalling for the sake of it, though—you could see the storm of thoughts swirling in his eyes. The things Noah, Aiden, and Bailey had said earlier at the party lingered in his mind, mixing with his own worries about how this would affect you, him, and everyone around you.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, trying to meet his gaze. Your voice was light, almost naive, but you were desperate for clarity.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, pretty girl or that we won’t ever but you know what’s wrong,” he said, letting out a soft laugh as he looked at you with a smirk full of sympathy. “You’re not the one who’s gonna get your ass beat.” It clicked immediately, and you couldn’t help but smirk back. 

“Oh,” you murmured knowingly. Trent nodded, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your arm.  Your heart swelled at the tenderness behind his worry. “I’ll protect you though,” you teased sweetly, your lips quirking into a grin.

“And that’s well nice, but I don’t believe you for a second,” he shot back, shaking his head playfully. “I’ve seen you try to fight Jack. Not exactly convincing.” He cupped your cheek. You laughed, leaning up to kiss his jaw. 

“I’d try for you, though,” you whispered, your giggles subsiding into a softer, more earnest tone. The room fell quiet again, the weight of your words hanging in the air between you. Trent sighed, his hand shifting to cradle your cheek still, his thumb brushing softly over your skin.

“Soon, baby, okay?” he said, his voice steady and filled with promise. “I want you. I want you all the time. I don’t want to hide this way. His words settled over you like a balm, soothing the ache of uncertainty in your chest. You nodded, leaning into his touch as his lips found your forehead. Until, he spoke again. “But we’ve gotta find a way to do it right. I don’t want to hurt people.” He told you and while you understood, it broke your heart. He was hurting you, why didn’t he consider that. But you bit your tongue trying to be rational and understanding. 

“Okay,” you murmured, letting your eyes drift closed. You trusted him—how could you not? And for now, that was enough.

“Baby… Pretty girl… you gotta get up for me,” Trent murmured against your skin. His voice broke softly through the stillness of the room, warm and tender, but his words held a weight that didn’t belong to the intimacy of the moment. His lips brushed against your temple, an apology in the contact before the words even came. Trent looked at you with a pout loving how comfortable you were with him, how cuddly you were. It broke his heart but he had to do it. 

“No,” you mumbled, eyes still shut as you pulled him closer, clinging to the drowsy warmth of his body. “I want to stay with you, baby,” you murmured, your voice tinged with sleep and longing. His hesitation was immediate. You felt the shift in him before he spoke again, his arm loosening its hold on your waist ever so slightly. 

“Baby…” His sigh was almost imperceptible, his tone soft but guilty. “The lads are coming over soon.” Your heart sank. It was a familiar refrain—too familiar. The safety of the morning evaporated, leaving behind the sharp edges of reality. You stiffened in his arms, the weight of his words sinking into you like stones.

“Right,” you said quietly, voice brittle and void of emotion as you sat up too quickly, the ache in your chest making your movements feel heavy. “Got it.”

“Y/N…” Trent tried, his voice laced with regret, but you were already pulling yourself out of his arms, the warmth he’d provided replaced by a cold, creeping frustration. You threw the duvet off with more force than necessary, scanning the room for your clothes.

“No, it’s fine,” you snapped, your voice clipped as you grabbed your shirt from the floor. You yanked it over your head, your movements rushed and jerky, the tension crackling between you both. “Lads coming, so I’ll just—what? Link out? Like usual?” He let out a heavy breath, his hands running over his face and then his hair, visibly exasperated but more at himself than you. 

“It’s not like that,” he muttered, his voice soft, almost pleading. You froze, your back to him, before spinning around, eyes blazing. 

“Then what is it like, Trent?” you demanded, your voice rising. “Because from where I’m standing, it feels exactly like that. It feels exactly like every other time you’ve made me feel less important than everyone else is to you. You pick them over me.”

“Don’t do this,” he said quietly, stepping toward you, his tone filled with frustration and guilt. “You know how complicated this is. You know what’s at stake. It’s not like I’m doing this to hurt you.” He muttered as guilt ransacked him. You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head as you grabbed your jeans, the tears already burning at the corners of your eyes. 

“I’ve been patient, T. I’ve understood. But tell me—when does it stop being complicated? When do you stop hiding me like I’m something to be ashamed of?” His shoulders tensed, his jaw clenching as he struggled to find the right words. 

“It’s not like that,” he said again, but this time, his voice cracked under the weight of his emotions. “You’re being careful about us too. Don’t act like it’s just me. You know it’s not like that.”

“No, I don’t,” you shot back, slipping your skirt on with trembling hands. “Because all I see is me sneaking out of your bed every time someone knocks on the door. All I feel is this constant push and pull—like you want me, but only if no one else can see it.”

“That’s not fair,” Trent countered, stepping closer, his eyes searching yours desperately. “You know how much I care about you.”

“Do I?” you whispered harshly, your voice breaking as you looked at him, the man you loved, the man you’d waited so long for. “Because it doesn’t feel like it, T. It feels like I’m the thing you’re too scared to fight for.” His hand reached out, brushing your arm gently, but you pulled away, the distance between you widening like a chasm. He flinched at your retreat, the rejection cutting him deeper than he expected.

“Baby, please,” he said quietly, his voice shaking. “Don’t walk out like this. Don’t do this. We’ve done this.” He said in a more irritated tone than he meant. You looked at him, standing there with heartbreak etched into his features, and it only made the pain sharper. 

“Don’t ‘baby’ me right now,” you whispered hoarsely, the tears threatening to spill as you grabbed your bag.

“Y/N, wait,” he said, his voice breaking as he stepped toward you again, but you were already at the door, your hand on the handle. “I’m sorry I forgot some lad’s from the team had planned to come over. If you want to stay, that’s fine but it makes less sense for us to out ourselves to people before we sort everything out and tell the people closer to us. Why would we tell them before…” his words were course but then his tempter faded out. “Jack… please wait…” He whispered.  You paused for the briefest moment, your heart warring with your pride. 

“I’m tired of waiting, Trent,” you said softly, almost too quietly for him to hear. Then you pulled the door open and walked out, the slam reverberating through the room like an echo of everything left unsaid. Trent stood frozen, staring at the empty space where you’d just been. His hand fell limply to his side, the weight of your absence suffocating. He sank back onto the bed, burying his face in his hands as the silence swallowed him whole. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. None of it was. And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to chase after you. Not because he didn’t want to—but because he didn’t know how to fix the cracks that had been growing between you for so long.

You left Trent’s house in tears, your chest tight with a swirl of frustration and heartbreak. He wanted to chase after you but he didn’t have it in him. He didn’t want to upset you but to a certain point how many times would he have to tell you both of you were doing the same thing. He was just protecting what you had. But you felt hurt. Why did he tell you to come home with him if he was going to kick you out. The walk to your car felt endless, your legs shaky as the cold air stung your skin. You couldn’t shake the ache in your heart, the overwhelming confusion. How could something so right between you feel so wrong when it came to the rest of the world? You wanted him, and he wanted you, but you both stayed trapped in this unspoken fear of making it real. Of bringing it to life. 

The drive to Layla’s was a blur. By the time you arrived and knocked on her door, the tears were streaming freely down your face. Layla opened it immediately, her expression softening with concern the moment she saw you. Without a word, she pulled you inside, guiding you toward her couch like she’d done so many times before.

“Okay, sit down,” she said gently, placing a steadying hand on your shoulder as you dropped onto the couch. “What happened?” She asked softly. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady, but it came out in a rush of anger and sadness. 

“Maybe I should just stop it all. It’s stupid. This whole thing is stupid.” You rashly told her explaining nothing.  Layla sat down next to you, her brows furrowed. 

“Erm… okay, but before we decide anything drastic, maybe you need to take a breath.” She grabbed your arms firmly, grounding you. You shook your head, your tears falling harder. 

“Lay, it’s so good. When we’re together, god fuck! It’s so perfect.” You dropped your face into your hands in frustration. “But then it’s so bad, and it happens so fast. I can’t do this anymore,” you sobbed, your voice cracking as you clung to her like a lifeline. Layla sighed, pulling you into her lap, her hand gently stroking your hair. 

“Y/N,” she said softly, her voice soothing, “you two have to talk. This can’t keep happening. You can’t keep living like this—it’s not fair to you. You need to figure out what you both want and make a plan because seeing you like this upset? It’s really fucked up.” She looked at you,  her heartbreaking seeing you like this.   

“I don’t know how to talk to him,” you admitted, your voice muffled against her shirt.

“Why not?” she asked, her tone patient but desperate for you to fix it.

“Because what if I don’t know…” You frowned at her pleading for help. She just waited patiently for you to get to the realization that you knew what you wanted. It was obvious you did. You were just scared but that didn’t make it any less true. You wanted Trent. “What if he doesn’t want the same thing I do?” you said, your voice trembling. “What if I tell him I want more, and he doesn’t? What if this is all I get—sneaking around, hiding, pretending it’s not as big as it feels?” Layla’s brows knitted together in frustration, but her touch stayed gentle. 

“Have you told him you want it? That you want more?” She looked at you earnestly. 

“No,” you hiccupped with a sniffle. “I don’t know how to say it. And if I do, and he doesn’t feel the same…” You trailed off, shaking your head as fresh tears spilled down your cheeks.

“Y/N,” Layla said, tilting your face up so you had no choice but to look at her. “Listen to me. I know you’re scared, but you’re never going to know unless you say something. Even after all these years of so much being said in the silences… now you have to say something. He won’t know unless you do. And here’s the thing—I don’t think Trent’s playing with you. He’s not that kind of guy. But last night at the party?” Her expression darkened slightly. “That fucking bothered me. The way the boys talked about you, like you’re some kind of game or joke to him. It pissed me off, and I know it pisses you off that he lets it go on but he can’t stand up for you if he doesn’t know you want him to. So say something, ask him to stand up for you.” You nodded slowly, your chest tightening at the memory. Layla exhaled deeply, brushing a tear from your cheek. “Look, I get it’s complicated with Jack and everything, but that’s not an excuse anymore. You’re not a secret he should be ashamed of—you’re someone to be proud of. If you say something then it’s on him. He needs to step up. He needs to stop hiding you. You both need to make changes for this to work.”

“Why is he okay with it?” you whispered, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “Why is he okay with hiding me?” Layla pulled you close again, wrapping her arms around you tightly. 

“I really don’t think he is, babe. I think he’s scared too. But the only way you’re going to know is if you ask him. If you tell him how you feel and what you want. Otherwise, you’re going to keep hurting like this, he’s going to keep hurting you when I’m sure he doesn’t want to and you don’t deserve that.” Her words settled over you like a weight, and for the first time, you let yourself think about the possibility of laying everything bare. Of telling Trent exactly how you felt, no matter how terrifying it was.

Days had passed in silence, the kind that echoed loudly in Trent’s chest. Every time he reached for his phone, his fingers hesitated over your name before pulling back. He didn’t know how to fix this—not yet, at least. Summer loomed just around the corner, promising sunshine and indulgence, but the thought of his upcoming holiday to Monaco filled Trent with dread. It should’ve been exciting—yachts, the Grand Prix, endless parties. It was the kind of trip he used to count down to. But now? Now it felt like a prison sentence, especially with Jack coming along. Jack had planned the holiday with Trent, Noah, and a few other boys months ago, hyped about a well-deserved break from football. Trent knew exactly what it would be like: adrenaline-fueled days watching the races and wild, booze-soaked nights in Monte Carlo’s clubs. It had sounded perfect back then—a dream escape. But now? Now Trent could hardly stomach the idea. He didn’t want to be trapped on a yacht or in some overcrowded club, pretending everything was fine while Jack hovered nearby. Jack, who had no idea that Trent had been sneaking around with you for months. Jack, who’d likely kill him if he found out. Jack, who’d likely kill him if he found out he had made you so upset. And there was you. You, who hadn’t spoken to him since you’d left his house in tears. The image of your tear-streaked face haunted him, a gnawing ache in his chest that wouldn’t go away. He hated himself for letting you leave like that, hated the way he’d made you feel like some dirty secret. His own pride aside, he didn’t like that he made you cry so much lately. He ran a hand over his face, sinking back into his couch. What was he supposed to do? How could he fix things with you while being stuck on holiday with your brother? Trent stared at his phone again, heart pounding as he opened your messages. His thumb hovered over the keyboard. ‘We need to talk.’ He deleted it. Too formal. Too cold. ‘I miss you.’ No. Too vague. He wanted to say more than that. His mind raced, trying to find the right words, the ones that could pull you back to him. But every time he started to type, the fear crept in—the fear that maybe he’d already lost you for good.

The moment Jack’s name lit up your screen, you put on your best casual smile, trying to steady your nerves. As his face appeared, you leaned back, feigning an air of indifference.

“Hey, you! How’s Monaco?” you asked lightly, though your heart was pounding in your chest. Jack grinned, clearly in high spirits. 

“It’s unreal, honestly. Sun’s out, the cars are insane—it’s all proper vibes here.” He shoot you a genuine toothy grin that reminding you so much of your mum it hurt your heart.

“Nice,” you replied, trying to sound detached as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Race is tomorrow?”

“One more,” he said, glancing over his shoulder briefly. Your ears strained to pick up any faint sounds of Trent in the background—his laugh, his voice, anything—but all you could hear was the ambient hum of a busy room. Jack went on about the plans for the day, but then his tone shifted, a greedy grin spreading across his face. “Oh, and there’s this party tonight. Noah’s got some links here. Meeting up with a few girls.” Your stomach sank like a stone. 

“Really?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. Jack raised a brow at your tone. 

“Yeah, it’s nothing. Just a bit of fun. Monaco’s full of, uh… opportunities,” he said with a laugh. You forced a tight smile, even as your heart twisted in your chest. Jack was waiting for you too call him out for being rude but to no avail… he was confused. 

“So lots of girls for you lot,” you said flatly, the edge in your voice betraying your attempt at nonchalance. He nodded. “Good,” you replied sharply, eyes narrowing as you fought to keep your emotions in check. Jack paused, his expression shifting as he caught onto your mood. 

“What’s with you?” he asked, half-laughing, half-confused.

“Nothing,” you said too quickly, your voice pitching higher.

“Y/N…” Jack gave you a look. “C’mon, don’t be like that. It’s jokes. Not serious. They’re just lads going out, let them live. Stop judging.” He fell into a teasing smile. 

“I’m not!” you yelped, the words coming out too fast and too defensive. Jack shook his head, still smiling but clearly baffled. 

“Alright, whatever you say. I gotta get ready. Try not to stress so much, yeah?” The call ended, and you sat there, the silence in your room deafening. Your chest felt tight, and your mind raced with thoughts of Trent, of the girls, of everything unsaid between you. The distance between you both felt insurmountable, and for the first time, you wondered if it was even worth trying to bridge it.

Jack wasn’t stupid. He’d always been the first to sniff out secrets, and lately, something was off. It wasn’t one thing—it was a pile of little things that didn’t add up. You were distant, emotional even, on edge, and while you brushed it off as work stress, Jack wasn’t buying it. Then there was Trent. Once the quiet playboy, he suddenly hadn’t looked at a single girl since they landed in Monaco. Noah had been ribbing him about it for days, and Trent, usually quick with a smirk or witty comeback, just shrugged it off and stayed moody. It wasn’t like him. The real clue began two days before they left for Monaco. Jack had been doing laundry, trying to pack light, when he came across something unexpected—a business card. It was from a high-end restaurant, the kind of place you didn’t just stumble into. Jack’s brow furrowed as he turned it over in his hands. The name nagged at him.

“Where have I seen this before?” he muttered to himself. And then, flash forward to last night, he heard the name again… he and Trent were at the same end of the dinner table with Noah. They were all talking about random spots back home they’d eaten at lately. Trent had mentioned going to the exact restaurant. It took a moment to put two and two together but even when he did, he dismissed it. Jack didn’t want to think much of it other than it was odd—Trent was always out and about, meeting people, living the life of a big time footballer. But now… now it didn’t make sense. Who had he gone with? Trent was apparently seeing a new girl, the one Noah had mentioned. Maybe he went on a date there but then why did the card end up at your house. Jack tried to brush it off, but the pieces were starting to connect in his mind. Trent’s unusual moodiness, your strange behavior, and now this shared thread. No way, maybe it wasn’t from your clothes, maybe it had gotten misplaced, something lost amongst all the traffic of friends in the house. But if it was yours… who had you gone with? It all didn’t make sense.  The realization crept in slowly but undeniably, like a puzzle falling into place. Jack sat back on the couch, staring at his phone in his hand, replaying moments and conversations. Surely not. He clenched his jaw, his mind racing. 

A day or so on, deep in your doom scroll, and in your thoughts, you sat cross-legged on Layla’s couch, while she painted her nails beside you. As you pulled down on your screen, your Instagram refreshed, and there it was: Trent’s latest post. A full photo dump from Monaco. Your stomach dropped the second his name appeared on your screen, but it wasn’t until you saw the pictures that the scream escaped your mouth.

“What the fuck! Oh my God! What the actual fuck,” you yelled, nearly throwing your phone at Layla in shock. She jumped, smudging the fresh coat of polish on her thumb.

“Jesus, Y/N! What?” Layla exclaimed, wide-eyed as she tried to figure out if you were upset, angry, or just losing your mind. You shoved your phone in her face, almost shaking with emotion. 

“Look at this! LOOK at him! Is this some kind of sick joke? What the fuck is this?” The photos were ridiculous. Trent looked good—too good. He was wearing a pair of Prada dungarees, sunglasses, his smile lazy and effortless. Every shot was like a knife to your chest. Him walking around the grid with your brother and Noah, then laughing over drinks. A candid of him on a boat, the Monaco skyline glittering in the background. Another of him standing in a garage, tanned and glowing. Layla took one look and winced. 

“Oh. Wow. Yeah, okay… that’s obnoxious. I mean… what did you expect? It’s Monaco. He’s literally built for a place like this.” She shook her head in faux disbelief because she really could believe it. You groaned, running a hand through your hair, nearly tearing it out in frustration. 

“He looks so good, Layla. So good. What the fuck. And all I can think about is how many girls are probably seeing him right now, in real time, in person. Girls who probably feel the exact same way about him as I do. He never posts but of course he posts this. Fuck off!” You yelled annoyed. You collapsed back onto the couch, clutching your phone like it might explode in your hands. “Is he seeing girls while he’s there? Jack did mention Noah had ‘links.’ What if he’s flirting with them? What if he’s—” 

“Stop,” Layla cut in, her tone sharp but kind. She grabbed your phone out of your hands and set it on the coffee table. “You’re spiraling.” You stared up at the ceiling, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. 

“I’m not spiraling,” you argued weakly. Layla gave you a look. 

“You screamed like someone set the house on fire because Trent posted a couple of photos. You’re spiraling.” She smirked.

“I hate this,” you muttered, your voice breaking. “I hate not knowing what he’s doing, who he’s with. I hate seeing him like this, looking like that, when I can’t even talk to him.” Layla sighed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. 

“Look, I know it sucks. But you can’t let a stupid Instagram post drive you crazy.  “Millions of people follow him babe but he wants you. You’ll talk to him when he gets back, okay? Just… try to focus on something else in the meantime. And if he is being an prat over there? Then he’s not worth your time, Y/N.  Then he wasn’t worth the risk to be honest. Simple as that.” But it wasn’t that simple. Not for you. Because no matter how much it hurt, all you could think about was how much you wanted him.

When you went home that night and you lost your jealousy but you fell into desperation and vengeance. You were so angry Trent seemed fine. In fact he looked better than fine. You cried on your bed as you pulled out your phone. You stared at Josh’s name. And then in a state of delusion and heartbreak you hit send. You started bawling immediately.  You felt sick, why did you just do that. Why were you so sure? You slammed your phone down on the bed, curling into yourself as sobs wracked your body. You felt your phone buz almost instantly. 

‘My my my… look who it is. Crawling back so soon?’

Your tears blurred the screen, but you could still see Josh’s mocking message, taunting you for your impulsive decision. You hadn’t thought it through—hadn’t considered the consequences of reaching out to him. You only wanted to feel something, anything other than the aching pit Trent had left in your chest. The second you hit send, regret swallowed you whole. Now it was all spinning out of control.Panicked, you grabbed your phone and called Layla. She answered on the second ring, her voice groggy but alert as she heard you crying.

“Y/N? What’s wrong? What happened?” She hurriedly asked, scared. 

“Layla,” you choked out. “I did something so stupid. I—I texted Josh.” There was silence on the other end, then a sharp intake of breath. 

“You what?” She yelped. 

“I don’t know why! I was upset, and I wasn’t thinking, and now he’s replied, and I don’t know what to do!” you wailed, your voice cracking. Layla groaned in frustration.

 “Y/N, why would you—why would you even think that was a good idea? You know he’s not worth your time! You said you were going home to sleep not going to text a fucking sociopath!”

“I know, I know! I just—God, I felt so angry, and Trent’s off in Monaco with all these girls, and I thought…” You couldn’t even finish the sentence. It sounded ridiculous even to you.

“You thought texting Josh was the way to get back at him?” Layla snapped, exasperated.

“I don’t know what I thought!” you cried. “I wasn’t thinking! And now I can’t unsend it, and he’s already replied, and it’s just… stupid! I’m so fucking stupid, Layla!” You cried. Layla let out a long, calming breath on the other end. 

“Okay. Okay, first of all, stop calling yourself stupid. You made a mistake, but you’re human, alright? And second…” She paused, considering. “What exactly did Josh say?” You hesitated, swallowing the lump in your throat before you read her the message. Layla let out a noise of pure disgust.

 “Ugh, of course he did. He’s such a tool.” She rolled her eyes but you couldn’t see. 

“What do I do now, Lay?” you whispered, clutching the phone like it was a lifeline.

“You don’t do anything,” she said firmly. “You don’t reply, you don’t engage, nothing. You made a mistake, but you’re not doubling down on it. Block him if you have to.” You sniffled, tears still running down your cheeks. “But what if—”

“No ‘what ifs,’” Layla interrupted. “You’re not talking to Josh. You’re upset about Trent, and this isn’t the way to handle it. You need to focus on yourself, Y/N. Not on trying to make Trent jealous or trying to prove something to anyone.” Her words hit like a slap in the face, but you knew she was right. Still, as you stared at Josh’s message on your screen, you couldn’t shake the sick feeling in your stomach. The damage was already done.

The guilt was suffocating, gnawing at you every second. You hadn’t texted Josh beyond that one reckless moment, but the damage to your conscience had been done. You felt sick—physically ill at the thought of what you’d done, even if Trent didn’t know. The boys’ holiday was finally over, but instead of feeling relief at having Trent back, you were consumed by dread. Jack was hosting one of his infamous movie nights, and you knew there was no escaping it.

“Y/N, come on down!” Jack called from the living room. “It’s your favorite—you love this one!” You groaned quietly, staring at yourself in the mirror. Your face had lost its color, your eyes dull from days of crying and restless nights. You didn’t feel like facing anyone, least of all Trent. But Jack was persistent, and if you didn’t show, he’d come up to drag you downstairs himself. You hesitated at the living room door, anxiety twisting your stomach. The boys turned to greet you as you entered.

“Hey, Y/N!” Noah grinned, lifting his beer in your direction.

“Hey,” you mumbled back, trying to avoid anyone’s gaze. But then you saw him—Trent, sitting on the couch, quiet and reserved. His usual easy smile was gone, replaced by something you couldn’t quite read.

“Hey,” he said softly, his eyes meeting yours for a brief, electrifying second. You froze, unable to respond. Your heart ached at the sight of him, at how badly you wanted to talk to him, to tell him everything and fix whatever was broken between you. But the weight of your guilt, of what you’d done and the way you’d left things kept your feet rooted to the spot.

“Come on, sit down,” Noah said, patting the space between him and Jack. You reluctantly made your way to the couch, sinking into the cushions and folding your arms protectively over your chest. The room felt stifling, and your awkwardness bled into your every movement. You kept your eyes glued to the screen, but you could feel Trent’s gaze on you. You tried to act normal, but the tension was unbearable. Every time Trent shifted in his seat or glanced your way, your chest tightened. Your emotions boiled under the surface, threatening to spill over. Finally, the pressure became too much. Your eyes began to well with tears, and you couldn’t stop them. You risked a glance at Trent, and his expression nearly broke you. He looked… pained. Like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how. You couldn’t handle it. 

“I… I have to take a call,” you lied abruptly, your voice shaky as you stood up. Without waiting for a response, you darted upstairs, taking the stairs two at a time. The second you closed your bedroom door, you collapsed onto your bed, burying your face in your hands. Tears streamed down your cheeks as guilt, regret, and longing consumed you. You hated yourself for getting mad about him waking you up before his friends came over, about what you’d done, about how you felt, and about how hopeless it all seemed. Downstairs, Trent’s eyes followed you until you disappeared. 

“Been so fucking weird lately”Jack nudged him, frowning

“I don’t know,” Trent lied, though the weight in his chest told him otherwise. He could feel the distance between you, and it was killing him.

Trent came upstairs not long after you fled, lying to the boys saying that he was running to the toliet, his heart racing as he hesitated outside your door. He glanced down the hallway, ensuring no one was paying attention, then knocked softly.

“Hey,” he said, his voice barely audible through the door. The moment you heard his voice, it was like a dam broke. A choked sob escaped your throat, and before you could stop yourself, tears were streaming down your face. Trent pushed the door open gently, stepping inside and closing it behind him. “C’mere,” he cooed, crossing the room in a few strides and pulling you into his arms. His warmth, his scent—it was all too much, and you dissolved into him, your face pressed against his chest. “Baby, please don’t be upset,” he murmured, his voice heavy with guilt. “I don’t like making you cry.”  You shook your head, your words tumbling out between sobs. 

“I just want you to want me.” You cried. Trent’s arms tightened around you as he let out a shaky breath. 

“Please, baby, I do. I do.” He paused, his mind racing. “I’ll go down right now and tell them. Do you want that? Tell Jack everything?”

“No,” you whimpered, your voice small and raw.

“Baby…” he said softly, caution in his tone. He leaned back slightly, cupping your tear-streaked face with both hands, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Talk to me then. Be honest with me. Please.” He begged you. Asking the very thing Layla was telling you could help resolve it all. 

“I just want more than this,” you admitted, your voice cracking as more tears spilled over. Trent nodded slowly, his thumb brushing away your tears with careful precision.

 “I know. I know you do. We’re gonna do it, I swear.” He told you softly but surely. You looked up at him, the desperation in your eyes like a knife to his chest.

 “I just want you to like me.” Your words hit him harder than you could have imagined. His lips parted as if to argue, but instead, he pulled you back against him, his hand cradling the back of your head.

 “I do,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I really, really do, so much. Please don’t cry.” He pressed his lips to the crown of your head, swaying gently with you in his arms. He wanted to fix it all, to wipe away the hurt he’d caused, but your arms hung limply at your sides, and it shattered him. “Can you give me a cuddle, please?” he asked softly, his voice almost breaking. After a moment, you wrapped your arms around him tightly, clinging to him like he was the only thing holding you together. Trent let out a low hum of appreciation, resting his chin on your head. “I’m sorry, pretty girl,” he whispered into your hair. “I’m so sorry.” And in the quiet of your room, you both held on, trying to find comfort in each other even as the weight of everything unsaid loomed heavy between you. Trent went downstairs when it started to get suspicious. And then, after a long twenty minutes of regaining your composure upstairs, you finally mustered the courage to come back down. You moved through the hallway, hearing muffled laughter and the sounds of the movie playing in the cinema room. As you came to the doorway, Jack called out.

“Hey, can you grab me a drink?” He yelled. You stopped in your tracks and turned, your tone sharp. 

“Get it yourself.” You quipped. Jack gave you a look, eyebrows raised in amused disbelief. Before you could keep walking, Trent’s voice broke through the tension, smooth and casual. 

“Actually, Y/N if you’re up, mind grabbing me a water?” You froze, his request catching you off guard. There was no way you could say no to him right now, not after everything. 

“Fine,” you mumbled, trying not to betray the softness creeping into your voice.

“Of course!” Jack and Noah mocked in unison, bursting into laughter. You shot them a glare, your cheeks burning. 

“It sounded like more people wanted something after Jack said something, so I thought I’d be nice,” you argued, though even you knew it was flimsy.

“Right, right,” Jack teased, rubbing it in. “You’ve never been this “nice” to us. Where’s our special treatment?” 

“Bro, we’ve never bought her a car. It’s just not gonna happen.” Noah added jokingly 

“She lives in my house!” Jack yelped dramatically trying to justify why you should be ‘nice’.  He was kidding because if he really took a moment you did everything for him. Rolling your eyes, you flicked their ears as you walked past them. 

“Idiots.”  You muttered strutting to the kitchen.  When you returned with the drinks, you handed them out silently, ignoring their smug grins. You settled into the empty seat next to Noah, which happened to be just at the end of the couch where Trent was sitting. As the others turned their attention back to the movie, you felt a gentle tap on your leg. You glanced down to see Trent’s foot nudging you, and when you looked up, he shot you a wink. A tiny smile tugged at your lips despite yourself, and you reached over to squeeze his foot lightly. The brief exchange felt electric, like your own private conversation in a room full of people. No one else noticed, already engrossed in the film. But for the rest of the evening, the space between you and Trent felt charged, his occasional taps a quiet reminder that you weren’t as distant as you feared.

The air felt thick with tension as you sat at the end of the couch, acutely aware of Trent’s eyes lingering on you. Your cheeks warmed under his gaze, though you tried your best to ignore it, keeping your focus on the film.

“You look cold,” Trent said suddenly, his voice cutting through the quiet. Before you could respond, he pulled his jumper over his head and tossed it at you casually, like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

“Yeah, put some clothes on, sheesh,” Jack, ever ready to tease you, quipped as he glanced at you in your tiny tank top. His joke made you shrink slightly, but your gaze quickly fell to the jumper in your lap. It was that jumper—the one you’d borrowed just the other day when you went to the beach. The one you had wanted so badly to keep, but knew you couldn’t. Yet, now it was here, draped over your legs like a gift. The other boys erupted into playful jeers as you hesitated, examining the jumper. Noah, of course, couldn’t let it slide, teasing and pinching at you like an annoying older brother.

“Oh, look at her blushing now,” he teased.

“Okay, okay,” you muttered, waving them off as you pulled the jumper over your head. The scent of Trent enveloped you instantly—warm, clean, and entirely him. It felt like a secret hug, his presence wrapped around you even when he was sitting a few feet away. For the next half hour, you fidgeted in your seat, feeling distracted by the way the jumper clung to your body and how Trent’s foot occasionally brushed yours. Eventually, you stood, brushing your hands on your thighs. 

“I’m actually tired now and done with you lot so I’m going up,” you announced, pretending to be annoyed as you turned to leave.

Once upstairs, you shut your door and immediately grabbed your phone. Your heart thudded as you typed, 

'Thank you, T xx. Come give me my goodnight kiss pls'

You hit send before you could overthink it. A few minutes later, there was a soft knock on your door. You opened it to find Trent standing there, his lips tugged into a small, bashful smile.

“Can’t say no to you,” he murmured, stepping inside and pulling you into his arms. You tilted your head up, your hands resting on his chest.

 “Good. I’d hate for you to start now,” you whispered before he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours in a slow, lingering kiss that made your heart ache and soar all at once. But in the quiet sanctuary of your bedroom, the kiss between you became hungry and unrelenting. His hands moved over your body like he couldn't get enough, fingers curling into your hips, tugging you closer, as though even the sliver of space between you was too much. You clutched the fabric of his shirt, pulling him down to your level, your breath hitching as the intensity of the moment consumed you.

"T," you murmured out of breath, pulling back just enough to look up at him. Your chest rose and fell as you steadied yourself, your lips curling into a mischievous smirk. "You like movies so much, maybe we should make one." His brows furrowed slightly, the intrigue written all over his face. 

"What are you on about?" he asked, a low chuckle escaping his lips as he tried to gauge if you were joking. Before he could process it further, you moved quickly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. 

"What're you doing?" he asked, his voice laced with both curiosity and amusement. But there was also a flicker of heat in his eyes as he began to realize where this might be going. You opened the camera app, thrusting the phone into his hand with a cheeky grin. Trent looked down at you, bewildered yet intrigued, as you began kissing along his jawline, trailing down to his neck. He tilted his head back, letting out a soft groan, the sensation overwhelming him.

"You're mad," he muttered, but his voice was thick with desire, his free hand gripping your shoulder as you sank to your knees before him. Your hands moved deftly, undoing the button and zipper of his trousers, your eyes locked on his. 

"C'mon," you teased, your voice sultry, "just press record." His lips parted as he stared down at you, caught between disbelief and complete surrender to the moment. And so he did. He stared through the screen watching you take his hardening cock out. Your eyes darkened staring up at him as you let a line of spit fall from your lips onto his pulsating cock. He winced. You placed your thumb over his slit leaking pre cum. You massaged over it hard and he groaned as you continued sliding your hand down his base. 

“Baby” he said the pet name as he took a few seconds watching the scene unfolding in front of him in two fold; one viewing on the screen reflecting the scene back at him, the other in real time. “So fucking good f’me” he whispered trying to bit back a groan. This was so beyond risky. He needed to be quiet. Giving him head while all his mates were just downstairs. Your mouth perfectly wrapped around his shaft, as it was meant to be there around him. The motion of your head bobbing up and down had him in awe trying to suppress his moans. He reached to grab your hair with vigor, guiding your movements as you hollowed your cheeks around him, the corners of your eyes now shining with tears as he gagged you with his length. “You look so fucking beautiful with my cock in your mouth baby” He cooed as you moaned at the compliment. You could feel your pussy flutter at the compliment. You stared at him through your lashes as you decided to take him deeper, hitting the back of your throat.  He fucked your face, his cock hitting deep in your throat with every thrust. You were drooling at the corners of your mouth gagging on him trying to breathe through your nose when he grabbed onto your face.

“Going to be a good girl and take all of me? Swallow for me?” He could barely get the words out when your tongue swirled around him as you nodded. He released into your throat coating it in his cum. He grunted at the feeling. You lazily continued sucking him until you milked him of everything. Finishing by gently kissing the head of his cock as you sat back onto your heels.

"Did you like filming me?" you asked with a cheeky smile, your voice breathless, your chin was slicked with trails of his cum and your spit. Trent’s hand with the phone was trembling a little and it made you smile, a small visual you did a good job.

“God baby … fuck. Yeah, I did.” Trent exhaled trying to regulate his breathing. “You’re so good f’me” he cooed. You smiled again as s he stopped the recording and pocketed his phone before he reached out pulling you up to him by your arms. He kissed your temple pulling you into his chest more as he breathed heavily. You smile continued to grow against his chest. 

There was an international break. Trent was away and it was hard on you even if he was only down south. You just wanted to be with him but instead you found yourself with the person you wanted to be with least. The person you were having the hardest time being around lately… your brother. The sun was dipping low, casting a warm, golden light through the car windows, but the atmosphere inside was anything but serene. You sat in the passenger seat, arms crossed tightly against your chest as if to shield yourself from the tension swirling around you. Jack was at the wheel, one hand lazily resting on the steering wheel while he animatedly recounted his Monaco stories, his voice filling the car with a steady hum. The air was heavy, though, and you felt like you were balancing on the edge of a knife. The soft rumble of the car engine mixed with Jack’s voice should have been comforting, but every word he said seemed to jab at the precariousness of your situation. Your heart raced, your palms felt clammy against your thighs, and the suffocating weight of the secret you carried seemed to double with every mile. The car smelled faintly of Jack’s cologne and the remnants of takeaway coffee he’d tossed into the cupholder earlier. You stared out the window, trying to ground yourself in the passing blur of countryside, but it wasn’t working. Jack’s voice kept pulling you back into the moment, into the conversation you weren’t sure how to navigate.

“… and so he was literally mobbed. All these little lads were losing their minds trying to get a picture so Trentski took one with each kid cause he’s Trent but then we were late for the boat...” Jack’s salad of words, you assumed was a story, continued on but you started to pay more attention when you heard his name. The car ride became a minefield of emotions. You tried to focus on the passing scenery, but Jack’s words stuck like thorns in your chest.

“That’s sweet though. I miss him a lot,” you had said, without thinking. The second the words left your mouth, you felt Jack’s sharp gaze on you.

“What?” he asked, his voice laced with suspicion. Your stomach sank. The heat of embarrassment and panic crept up your neck as you tried to recover, your voice scrambling for an excuse. 

“What?” you echoed back, feigning innocence. “I feel like he’s usually around, and now he’s away.” There was a tense pause, the weight of his doubt palpable in the confined space of the car. For a moment, you wondered if he was piecing it all together, but then Jack’s suspicion lingered for a moment longer, his eyes narrowing slightly before he shrugged and leaned back into his seat.

“Hmm,” he muttered, his suspicion fading. “You never miss me like that,” he snapped, though there was a teasing edge to his tone.You were already in freefall, the tension in the car mounting when Jack’s teasing words finally shattered through your fragile façade.

“You wouldn’t know if I missed you… you’d be away,” you quipped, trying to deflect, but your voice wavered ever so slightly. Jack laughed, a sharp sound that made your stomach churn.

 “Fine but Jesus, you’re actually so embarrassing for him. He hasn’t even been around much lately,” he teased, and though his words were light, they landed like stones. You forced a laugh, your heart racing as you tried to mask your discomfort. But Jack wasn’t done. “What are you going to do when he gets married, huh? You know he’s seeing someone, right?” He cooed teasingly. The ache was instant, spreading through your chest like wildfire. You rolled your eyes at him, feigning indifference. 

“Shut up, Jack,” you muttered, hoping he’d drop it. But the words haunted you. He’s seeing someone. It shouldn’t have mattered—it didn’t make sense for it to hurt the way it did because you were that someone. But it did. What if you weren’t that someone though…The thought of Trent with someone else, giving someone else the tenderness he gave you in secret, made your stomach twist. The car fell into an awkward silence. You stared out the window, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from saying anything else that might betray you. Jack, oblivious to the turmoil in your chest, hummed along to the music, his earlier suspicion forgotten. But you couldn’t forget. The weight of the lie you were living, the secrets you were keeping from your own brother, felt heavier than ever. You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying to push the ache down. And yet, you couldn’t shake it. The guilt, the longing, the fear—it all churned within you as you gripped the edge of your seat, praying that the drive would end soon. Jack laughed again, completely oblivious to the storm raging inside you. You turned your gaze back to the window, hoping the conversation would end there, but the weight of his words lingered like an unwelcome guest. The rest of the ride was spent in suffocating silence, your hands gripping your thighs tightly. You kept your face turned away, willing the tears that threatened to prick at the corners of your eyes to stay hidden. The secret you carried felt like it was suffocating you, the walls of the car closing in as the miles ticked by. And as Jack laughed at his own jokes and tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, you felt the crushing weight of the lie you lived—both to yourself and to him.

In the dressing room at St. George’s Park, Trent sat on the bench, lacing up his boots while the chatter of the England squad buzzed around him. They were talking fixtures, rivalries, and upcoming games.

“Man United’s coming up, yeah?” one of his teammates said, tossing his training top aside. “Should be a good one, mate. They’re in decent form.” Trent nodded, keeping his focus on his boots. 

“Yeah, big game. Away as well.” He chirped nonchalantly. His teammate glanced at him with a grin, reaching to find Trent’s competitive edge.

 “Don’t you have some personal stakes in that one? Doesn’t your best mate’s sister date that Josh lad?” Trent froze for half a second, his jaw tightening. He kept his head down, hoping his reaction wasn’t noticeable. The mention of your name made Trent’s stomach twist, even as he tried to focus on tying his boots. The casual comment about Josh left a bitter taste in his mouth, and he couldn’t stop himself from snapping.

“Nah, bro. She’s not with him. Fuck that kid,” Trent shot back, his tone sharp and unfiltered. The group of players exchanged quick, surprised glances. His reaction was louder than it should’ve been, and he instantly regretted it.

“Woah, relax, mate,” one of his teammates said, chuckling lightly. “Only a match.” he said, holding up his hands with a laugh. Trent sighed, leaning back on the bench and rubbing a hand over his face. He could feel their curiosity thick in the air. Trent’s mood simmered, but he tried to play it off, reaching for his water bottle. He hated that people still thought there was anything between you and Josh. It made his blood boil. The teammate sensed some tension but was unwilling to drop the topic. 

“I thought you were seeing that Jess girl anyway,” another chimed in, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction—or maybe just stir the pot. Trent frowned, confused. 

“I don’t even know Jess like that. Where’s everyone getting this information from?” Trent asked frustratingly.

“Jess, mate! Megan’s friend. I saw them out in Manchester the other month.” His teammate grinned as if he was solving some puzzle. “Sorry, I just thought you were with her, and I thought Y/N was still with Josh. So… if that’s not true…” He raised an eyebrow, clearly fishing for more information. Trent felt the possessive heat rising in his chest.

“No!” Trent snapped, but it came out too quickly. He shook his head, trying to sound more composed. “No, bro. Just stop chatting nonsense about Jack’s sister, yeah?” Trent said firmly, his voice more serious than it had been all morning. The group fell quiet for a beat before one of them laughed awkwardly, trying to defuse the tension. But Trent’s mind wasn’t in the room anymore. He was thinking about you, about how much he hated keeping this secret, about how much it hurt to hear your name in someone else’s mouth, tied to someone else’s life. He was done holding back. Something had to give. The thought of you with Josh, of anyone else thinking they could have you—it made his blood boil. Trent didn’t want to share you anymore. Not with rumors, not with anyone. He was ready to let the world know. For the first time, caution didn’t seem worth it.

After training, Trent sat alone in his room, his phone in his hand, the tension in his chest making it hard to breathe. The conversation in the dressing room earlier had stirred something deep in him, a gnawing need to reach out to you. His friends’ comments had irritated him, but what really got to him was how much he hated keeping you in the shadows. He hated the uncertainty, the idea that you might not know how much he truly cared. He stared at your name on his screen, the familiar pang of longing hitting him harder than usual. He swiped at the screen, hovering over the call button. His hand trembled slightly as he pressed it, his heart racing as the line rang. You picked up on the third ring.

“Hey,” you said softly, your voice cautious, like you knew something was coming.

“Hi, baby,” he replied, his voice immediately dropping into something warm and gentle. It was so full of emotion that it caught you off guard. “What are you doing?” He asked sheepishly.

“Not much,” you answered, frowning at his tone. “Why? You okay, T?” You cooed gently. 

“I just…” He paused, trying to gather the courage to say what he felt. His hand ran over his hair as he sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees. “I miss you.” The simplicity of his words stopped you in your tracks. 

“What?” you whispered, caught between suspicion and disbelief.

“I miss you all the time,” he confessed, his voice heavy with longing. “Everything, baby. I miss it all; your smile, your laugh… the way you look at me like I’m the only one who matters. I miss having you in my arms.” His voice cracked slightly at the end, and it made your heart ache.

“T,” you murmured, your voice shaky.

“I know this might seem out of the blue,” he continued, pressing forward. “But I’ve been sitting here thinking, and I can’t stop. I don’t want to wait till I’m back. I need to see you.” His vulnerability was disarming. You had heard him sweet before, but this was different. His words weren’t casual or playful; they were raw, unfiltered.

“What’s going on?” you asked softly, trying to piece together the sudden intensity.

“I just… I need you,” he said, his voice breaking a little. You couldn’t believe how sad he sounded. “Come down to London tomorrow. Please. I’ve got the day off, and I want to spend it with you. I want you. No hiding, no excuses. Just us.” Your breath hitched at the desperation in his voice. You tried to stay logical, reminding yourself that traveling down to London wasn’t exactly practical. But the way he sounded—like he was holding on by a thread—made it impossible to refuse.

“T, baby, I don’t know,” you said hesitantly, your emotions warring with your logic.

“Please,” he pleaded, the word coming out softer, more vulnerable. “I’ll do whatever you want. Just… I miss you so much, baby. I just want to hold you and talk to you without feeling like we’re running out of time.” The raw emotion in his words broke down your walls, and you felt a tear slip down your cheek. You were scared—of what this meant, of what it might change—but you also wanted him just as badly.

“Okay,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“Yeah?” he asked, hope lighting up his voice.

“Yeah,” you repeated, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the tears in your eyes. “I’ll book a train for tomorrow.”

“Thank you, baby,” he said, relief flooding his tone. You could practically hear the smile through the phone. “I can’t wait to see you. Promise me you’ll text me when you’re on the train, yeah?”

“I will,” you replied, your heart pounding. As you hung up, you sat back on your bed, your phone still clutched in your hand. A mix of excitement and anxiety churned in your stomach. You opened the train app, booking your ticket with shaky hands, all while replaying his words in your head. The thought of seeing him again, of being close to him, filled you with both hope and fear. But for the first time in a long time, it felt like things might finally be moving forward. And as much as it scared you, you couldn’t deny how much you wanted it.

The moment you stepped into the London hotel suite, you felt like you’d entered another world. The soft glow of dimmed lighting reflected off the rich wood paneling and modern gold accents, creating an atmosphere of intimate luxury. Plush furniture, sleek and inviting, filled the spacious room. A bottle of champagne sat chilling on the marble bar, a silent invitation for celebration. Trent was already there, waiting for you. He leaned against the doorway to the bedroom, his casual outfit—just a fitted black t-shirt and joggers—looking comfortably him. His eyes lit up when he saw you, and a warm smile spread across his face as he opened his arms.

“Come here, pretty girl” he murmured softly, his voice filled with affection. You crossed the room to him, slipping into his embrace, his arms wrapping tightly around you like he never wanted to let go. The scent of his cologne enveloped you, clean and intoxicating, and you melted against his chest. He pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head, his fingers running gently through your hair. “I missed you so much,” he whispered, his breath warm against your temple. You leaned back to look at him, your hands resting against his chest. 

“I missed you,” you replied with a pout, your voice soft but full of emotion. He cupped your face gently, his thumb stroking your cheek as he studied you, like he couldn’t believe you were really there. You slipped in comfortable silence after that, the weight of the week melting away in his presence. The city buzzed far below, but up here, it was just the two of you in a cocoon of peace. The night unfolded gently. Trent ordered room service, insisting on your favorites. You laughed as he fed you little bites, both of you teasing and playing but never breaking the intimacy of the moment. You fell into the shower later on, taking the meaning of hot and steamy to new heights with him until the early morning creeped in. 

You found yourselves sprawled across the massive bed, wrapped up in each other and the sheets, talking about everything and nothing. His fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin as he listened to you, his gaze never wavering. In the quiet hours of the early morning, you lay tangled together, his arms strong and steady around you as he held you close. The faint sound of the city below hummed through the glass, but you felt safe, cherished, and completely at home.

“Wanted to be with my girl,” Trent mumbled against your skin, his voice low and lazy as he held you close. The sheets of the hotel bed cocooned you both, your bodies tangled in the soft warmth of the early morning.

“Your girl, huh?” you teased, a smug grin tugging at your lips as you felt his arms tighten around you.

“Yeah,” he murmured with certainty, his words melting into the curve of your neck as he pressed a kiss there. “Always have been.”

“Yeah?” you challenged playfully, your voice light but carrying just enough curiosity to coax more out of him. “Even with my ex-boyfriends? Still yours?” You teased him with a smirk. A low groan escaped him, the sound vibrating against your skin.

 “They didn’t exist,” he muttered, his tone laced with stubbornness. You giggled, running your hands slowly up his back, feeling the smooth expanse of his muscles beneath your fingertips.

 “No? That’s funny because I’m pretty sure they did, T.” You cooed as you ran your hands up and down  on his warm bare skin. 

“They didn’t,” he insisted, his voice firmer now, though you could hear the hint of a smirk creeping into his tone.

“You’re delusional,” you laughed softly, your fingers playing with the short coils on the top of his head. 

“No, baby,” he said, lifting his head to meet your eyes. His gaze was so intense, so full of conviction, it made your breath catch. “You’ve been mine. Always.” He confirmed as if almost a command. His words carried a weight that left you momentarily speechless. He wasn’t just being playful—he was staking his claim, and you could feel the raw emotion in his voice.

“Okay, T,” you whispered, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. But Trent wasn’t finished. His fingers trailed down to the delicate Van Cleef butterfly necklace resting against your collarbones. He toyed with it for a moment, his thumb brushing the charm before he spoke again.

“You knew,” he murmured, his lips brushing your skin. “You wore this necklace. There’s no way you didn’t think about me with other guys while you had this on.” Your eyes widened, a warm flush creeping up your neck. You opened your mouth to respond, but he smirked, cutting you off before you could say a word. He was right though. “My baby… You used to come home from dates,” he continued, his voice low and teasing now, “and still be all over me.” His smirk widened, and you could feel the curve of his perfect, plump lips against your skin. The memory of those days—of how tangled everything had been, how impossible it had felt to stay away from him—flooded your mind.

“You’re so smug,” you murmured, but your cheeks burned as your hands slid up his back again, seeking some sort of grounding.

“And I’m right,” he teased, his lips trailing kisses along your jaw. You sighed, a mix of exasperation and surrender. 

“God, you’re impossible.” You feigned a sigh.  

“But you wanted me,” he whispered, his voice softening as his kisses slowed, becoming tender instead of playful. “And I wanted you… and now look how good, baby, hmm?”  You couldn’t argue with that. Instead, you pulled him closer, your arms wrapping tightly around him. 

“Yeah,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his temple. “It’s good.” And in that moment, with his warmth surrounding you and his words echoing in your ears, you felt it—there was no one else. There never had been. 

Reflecting back, the memories played like a reel in your mind, each frame more bittersweet than the last. You could still picture the way you used to come home from dates. Your heels clicking against the floor, your shoulders slumped, and frustration practically oozing from your pores. Jack always seemed to be holding court in the living room, his friends sprawled across the couches and floor, a casual chaos you didn’t have the energy for.

“How was it?” Jack would ask, his voice tinged with mild amusement as he glanced up at you.

“Shit, if you’re back already,” Noah would add with a grin, never missing the chance to tease. And then there was Trent. Always there, perched on the couch, looking entirely too smug for someone who hadn’t said a word yet. His eyes would meet yours, dark and knowing, and just before you could make it out of their sight, he’d send you a wink. It wasn’t loud or showy, but it was enough to halt your steps and make your stomach twist. You’d plop down on the couch with a dramatic grunt, trying to deflect their teasing, but you never could escape Trent. Not really. The teasing would persist, Jack and Noah laughing and throwing out half-hearted insults, but Trent’s presence was magnetic. He didn’t join in. Instead, he always found a way to tether you to him, his touch subtle but undeniable. A pinch at your side that made you jump, a squeeze on your thigh that sent warmth crawling up your neck, or even a gentle swipe at your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin with a tenderness that felt misplaced—but only because it wasn’t meant to. And then there were his words, deceptively kind but maddeningly ambiguous.

 “Not the right one,” he’d say softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear. You remembered wanting to scream every single time. You wanted to tell him that you already knew. You’d known for what felt like forever. The right one wasn’t out there, somewhere in the endless sea of mismatched dates and wasted time. The right one wasn’t a stranger you had yet to meet. The right one was him. The right one was sitting next to you, his knee brushing yours, his smirk curling at the edges of his lips, and his fingers ghosting over your skin like he was leaving breadcrumbs for you to follow. And you did. God, you followed him every time.

But Trent never went further, and neither did you. So, you’d sit there, your heart in your throat and your mind spinning with all the things you couldn’t say, while he acted like he hadn’t just unraveled you with a look, a touch, or a single maddening phrase. And you hated it. You hated how much you wanted him and how deeply he had you tied in knots, yet you couldn’t hate him. You never could. Because every time he touched you, every time he said something that felt like a breadcrumb but never a full map, you hoped. You dreamed. And you stayed.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what's to come!

Next part - Chapter 13 xx

[prettyshinnythings]

Resurrection Chapter 2

pairings: Sauron x Reader, Adar x reader

Warnings: This is for readers 18+. This chapter contains mentions of smutty activities. There will be smut in the next part if anyone wants that! Please do not read if you're under 18.

This is my first fic on this blog.

Chapter One

Chapter Two:

My breathing hitched in my throat as I stepped from the outside world and into the tent where Adar kept his prisoner king. Inside the tent, there was barely any light, what little light there was came from a dim lamp beside the support beam keeping the tent from collapsing in on itself. Cautiously, I hold my bag to my body, my fingers gripping the sturdy leather of the bag. It had been my idea to bring something to treat whatever wounds the king sustained in Adar’s interrogation. I knew that he could get quite rough whenever he felt the situation called for it. 

Breathing a deep sigh, I take a step further into the tent, allowing the flaps to close behind me, and making the room darker. 

The prisoner doesn’t say anything as I softly walk along the uneven dirt ground. He does not even bother to acknowledge me until I sit on the stool resting in front of the support beam. I set the bag down before sitting on the stool, my eyes finding the man sitting across from me. He has dark brown locks that fall just past his jaw, and his face is handsome, even with the bruising. He lifts his eyes to meet mine slowly, his stubble-covered jaw lifting up in defiance of the pain that I know he’s in. When he looks at me, an undetectable look flickers in his eyes. A moment of recognition that I could not understand. I had never seen this man before, but there was something about him that felt familiar. Even with a cut on his lips, he still manages to smirk up at me. 

“Well, look at you…”

His gaze intensifies as he looks at me over. The dress Adar had suggested for me to wear fit along my body like a second skin. The dark black fabric made me look like I was a member of a lavish court in a wealthy kingdom. The lower cut of the dress seemed particularly interesting to him. 

“... Adar sent in someone pretty to look at. Tell me, love, are you supposed to get me to talk?”

My eyes move from his handsome face to the chain around his neck. Seeing him like that sent a curious shiver up my spine and I was not entirely sure why. Did I like seeing him in chains? I try to shake the thought from my head and force myself to meet his gaze once again. The look on his face has changed slightly, as if he had read my mind. A dark chuckle escapes him as I attempt to remain focused.

“I simply want to ease your suffering, your Majesty. I know Adar can be quite rough when he feels like he is not getting what he wants.” 

My voice is small, and reserved, as I look at him. I attempt to focus on my breathing whilst I do this. Whoever this man was, I felt this pull that I had never felt before. Like the man from my dream. 

My words bring about new amusement on his handsome face. Again, as if he knew what I’d just thought. 

“Have a lot of experience with Adar’s roughness have you? What exactly is an elf doing with a Uruk who is terrorizing my people? Do you love him?”

I feel my stomach turn at his questions. The latter half sounded almost angry as if I was his lover who had betrayed him by being with Adar. I cannot discern what it is exactly that has upset the king, but I do not bite the bait.

“I simply wanted to help you. If my presence is a problem then I will let the guards continue to do what they do to get answers out of you. Though I would hate to bring any more harm to you, your Majesty.” 

Remaining calm, I reach down for my bag and attempt to stand up from the stool. I knew it had been a bad idea to try and get him to talk. But the second that I stand from my spot, he breathes a pained sigh.

“You do not have to go. Forgive me, I am just curious. You do not have to answer if you do not want to.” 

The smirk remains on his face as he says this. His eyes watched me closely to see if I still decided to go. 

Cautiously, I dare to move closer to the king of the Southlands. I sit beside him, placing my bag on the ground near my feet. I do not speak as I reach into the bag and pull out a cloth and a bottle of gin. Opening the gin I take a swig of it and sigh in contentment as I feel the warmth of the gin cascading down the back of my throat. A welcomed sensation that contrasted with the coldness of the tent. I give the king a small smile as I tilt the bottle in his direction, offering him a sip. Hesitantly, he lets me put the bottle to his lips as I pour the gin down his throat. Once I feel like he’s had a few decent swallows I pull the bottle from his lips. 

We lock eyes for only a moment when I pull the bottle away, his gaze seeming to darken at my closer proximity. I feel my breathing hitch and I have to force myself to look away. Turning my attention to the cloth, I pour a decent amount onto the cloth before daring to speak to him. 

“Can I touch you?”

I whisper, momentarily daring to look at him once more. He swallows hard and nods, unable to speak suddenly. With his permission I lean in, my hand holding the cloth on his bloodied lip. He does not flinch when the alcohol touches his skin and I start to clean the spot as gently as possible. I move the cloth from his lip after a few moments before pulling it away from him, the blood almost completely gone. 

“I am sorry that he has hurt your people, my lord. He does not tell me what he does once he leaves the confines of our shared tent. He thinks I am too weak to handle the truth of what he does. What he has his children do.” 

I pour more gin on the cloth and move it to wash his face, clean his face, and softly exfoliate any potential cuts he may have received. Not once does he look away from me, his gaze calculating as he anticipates what I will do next. 

“Adar saved me when I was a younger elf maiden. My parents were both slain and I was the only survivor. He has taken care of me for a long time. I know our pairing seems odd, but he was the first one to care for me and keep me safe.” 

I pour more gin on the cloth and then turn my attention to his hands, carefully cleaning them. He has strong hands. I wonder what they would feel like around my…

I mentally shake the thought from my head before letting it fully form. His voice cut through the silence that had befallen us once again. 

“You look like someone I knew once. You could be her exact copy…”

He pauses as I finish my work. He waits until I put the lid on the bottle and put it back into my bag with the cloth before speaking. 

“... Would you come closer?” 

He asks the question quietly but it is my willingness to comply that shocks me. Without speaking a single word I stand up and move my body to straddle his. Our eyes locked together as I sat in his lap. I am unsure of why his question compelled me to do this, but here I was. Here, mere inches away from his face. 

His eyes move from mine to my lips, the smirk he had worn earlier slowly creeping back onto his face. 

“Show me your chest and torso.”

My breathing hitches as he says this, my mind in a compliant haze. Without any hesitation I pull my arms out of my sleeves. He licks his lips when I pull the fabric down and reveal full access to my exposed breasts. I feel my heartbeat quicken as he watches me pull the fabric further to show the top of my torso. I had been born with scars along my chest and torso. It looked like I’d been cut deeply by something very sharp. My whole life those marks had marred my skin, to the point where I did not wear certain clothing because the scars were so unappealing to look at. 

He seems deeply transfixed by my scars as his bound hands reach out, stopping before making complete contact with my flesh. 

“Can I touch you?”

He asks as I had only moments before. Without thinking twice I nod, watching him closely. Slowly he uses his fingers to lightly trace over the marks on my torso, his brow furrowed as he does. I could not quite understand what the look on his face meant, but there was a pain etched into his expression like I was some ghost he never thought he would see again. 

“I know…” 

I start breathlessly, my body suddenly on edge. I feel a chill move up my spine and my stomach turns in anticipation of what he will do next. A wetness started to form in between my legs. A dark chuckle brushes past his lips, seeming to note the way my body has changed beneath his touch. 

“... I know they’re ugly to look at. I was born with these markings. My parents used to try and cover them up because they are so unsightly.”

His fingertips are light along my body, so light that I almost feel like I imagined them. My comment causes his brow to furrow as his eyes flick up from the markings to my face. His bound fingers lightly move from the marks on my torso to the one on my chest right above my heart. 

“You’re beautiful. Your birthmarks do not take that away.”

My heart skips when he says this and suddenly I am all too aware of how close his lips are to mine. There is an arrogance that moves across his face when he sees that I have fully taken in our current predicament. 

“What do you know of Sauron your majesty?”

I whisper, his lips ghosting over mine. My eyes flutter shut and he chuckles. I am trying to stay on task now that I realized how much I had quickly played into his hands. I was in his lap with the whole top part of my body exposed to him. This was certainly not what Adar had wanted.

Adar.

“Call me Halbrand.”

He rasps and kisses me deeply, my lips are powerless to deny how good he feels against me. I am quick to return the kiss with as much passion as he offers me. I gasp when his bound hands grasp my breast, his thumbs toying with my hardened nipple. He shudders against me when my hips roll against his. My body is desperate for friction. I can feel myself getting caught up in this heated exchange. I would give myself over to this man without a second thought… well until I thought of Adar once again. This time when I think about him I break the kiss and look at Halbrand. My heart is beating so fast that I am surprised that he cannot see the outline of it thumping in my chest. 

“Halbrand… Please tell me about Sauron.”

I pull my head back to look at him, my body’s desire for him reflected in my face. I wondered what he thought of me at that moment. Did he think I was an easy fuck? Or did he feel it too? This strange connection that I could not understand. A dangerous look pulsates beneath the surface of the smile he gives me. He tilts his head back against the wall and I feel the frustration boiling within me at the smug look that overtakes his face. 

“He is closer than you could ever imagine, Sweetling.” 

My eyes widen at the nickname and instantly I remember being called Sweetling before…

In my dream. 

How could he have known about it? 

“Is this funny to you Halbrand? Do you enjoy being locked in here? If you tell me what you know I can speak with Adar. I could convince him to let you go without you befalling any more harm.” 

At this, he looks at me with a raised eyebrow. He looks me over once again, amused that he has given me nothing but I was here partially naked before him. 

“How will you convince him, hmm? Will you suck his cock and tell him how much you love him? Will you let him fuck your pretty little pussy? Is that what you will do? Meanwhile, Middle Earth is suffering, but I bet that does not matter to you as long as you are his whore.”

When he finishes speaking all of the wind in my lungs feels as if it has left my body. Halbrand looked back at me like I had done something awful to him. As if I had betrayed him in some personal way. I cannot stop the tears that form in my eyes at his words. Instead, I get up off of his lap and pull my dress back up over my exposed chest, concealing myself once more. I refuse to look at him as I bend down to pick up the bag, but when I do his hands grasp my arm. I want to pull out of his grasp but find that I cannot. I am too overcome with emotion to push him away. No one had ever said those words to me before. Sure, I knew what the uruks thought of my relationship with Adar. Some loved me, others did not. I knew what people thought of me when they found me standing at Adar’s side. But no one had ever voiced those feelings out loud. 

“Halbrand.”

I whimper, forcing myself to look over at him. The tears in my eyes have softened his expression as he watched me cautiously. 

“What is your name, Sweetling.”

He asks, his tone careful. 

“(Y/n).”

I feel like a child who has been scolded when I speak to him as if I was in trouble. 

“(Y/n), Sauron has taken a new form. I know not where he resides, only that he does not look the same as Adar remembers.”

The information he provides does not have a moment to sink in before Adar’s voice sounds from behind me. 

“Halbrand, do not touch (y/n). She is mine.”

My blood seems to freeze when Adar calls me his. Suddenly, it did not feel as comforting as it had this morning when I had awoken in his bed. Halbrand does let go of my arm and when he does I reach down to grab my bag before walking over to Adar’s side. He peers down at me with an unreadable expression. Almost as if he knew that I had gone too far. As if he felt the shift that had happened the moment Halbrand’s lips were on mine. He pulls me in against him, his hands on my waist. Adar’s lips find the side of my face, but there is no comfort that I feel from the action. 

“She was someone else’s at one point was she not lord father? Or at least someone whose likeness she shares. But you knew that already didn’t you?”

Halbrand’s voice breaks through the uncomfortable tension that had manifested in the room. At this statement, I peer up at Adar in confusion. What could Halbrand have meant? I take a few steps back from Adar, my eyes wide as I look at him. A deep sigh escaped my lover before he glanced past me to Halbrand. 

“During the first age, Sauron had a messenger who became his mistress. The name Morgoth gave her was Thuringwethil. But she was known amongst the uruks who served Sauron as a different name. (Y/n), was the one he loved more than anything. He would have done anything for her, but on the night of his coronation, something terrible happened. He had sent her to take one final message and during that journey, she was killed when she came across the hound of Valinor. Sauron never learned of her passing because I killed him before he was able to learn the fate of his mistress…”

I feel my skin crawl at his words. Not because I was disturbed by them, but because they felt familiar to me. As if my body could recall every memory he recounted. Adar’s gaze finds mine, his lips pulled into a tight line. 

“...When I found you I was shocked by how much you looked like Thuringwethil. Every single part of you is her perfect likeness, apart from the fact that you are an elf. You have her face, her hair, her body, and those same scars that Morgoth had etched into Thuringwethil. When I found you I knew that I had to have you. That having you was the perfect revenge against Sauron and what he put my children through. If Thuringwethil was his true love in his past life then I wanted to make sure that, he would never have her again.”

When he finishes speaking, he takes a step forward, his hand outstretched to take mine in his. I am in shock by everything he has just said, so much so that I just stare at him. My body is unmoving as if I had turned into a statue. Everything I had known to be true had been flipped on its head. Every piece of my relationship with Adar seemed to pass through my mind like a demented illusion. And worst of all, it hurt because I had believed that Adar had loved me for me. Not because I looked like someone he had known. Not because of his anger with Sauron.

“How do you even know that I am her? What if I just look like her?”

I ask in quiet desperation, pleading for some sort of explainable reasoning. Adar gives my hand a squeeze and nods.

“Sometimes, when you dream you say his name. His true name that not many know. You said it this morning when you woke up. I do not believe that is a coincidence.”

My brow furrows as I think back to the name of the man from my dream and I feel my heart stop. Cautiously, I look up at Adar before mumbling feebly. 

“Marion.”

[baronessvonglitter]

Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 20 🍒

"Baby Loves Me"

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 8,823 (she's a big'un)

Summary: A blizzard, a wedding, family secrets, and two people who can't stop thinking about each other. Are these fateful events going to drive you apart for good, or bring you even closer together?

(Warnings contain spoilers beneath the cut)

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, age gap (reader is 39, Joel is 56), takes place a few days before Christmas 2023, mention of eating food/drinking alcohol, mention of health issues, oral (m & f receiving), Ellie has anger issues, use of guns for recreational shooting, jealous!Joel, mutual pining, reader wears makeup and dresses, unprotected piv, creampie, TW for minor heart attack and hospitalization (everything is okay in the end), getting back together and having a happily ever after. In this universe everyone is alive and happy.

Author's Note: this series was the first story I ever posted on AO3 and then recently here on tumblr. I had no idea so many people would love it, and it's currently my most liked, most commented-on, and most bookmarked work on AO3 ♥️ It feels so good to finally have this complete, but I will write some one-shots about this couple in the future, because part of me really doesn't want to let them go. Much love to those who stuck around and showed their support while I got this story hammered out. I love and appreciate all of you!

Please enjoy this playlist for your listening pleasure, songs that either appear in the series or provided inspiration

Series Masterlist

It's early when Joel wakes, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed as he puts his hand to his heart, eyes scrunched closed tight as he prepares himself for the increasingly painful palpitations. He grunts in suffering at the agony of the erratic pounding of his heart, body tense until it passes, and he sighs with relief, head in his hands as he runs his fingers through his greying locks.

It's been almost a week now that he's had these pains, happening every day now that Sarah's wedding day is nearing. He gets them on and off but lately stress has been catching up to him and reminding him he's not in his thirties anymore. Hell, he'd give anything just to be in his forties again.

He gets up to get a glass of water, quickly throwing on a shirt before going downstairs. The house is quiet though he can see the electric glow of the television light on underneath yours and Ellie's rooms. He hesitates just outside of your room, putting an ear to the door, hoping to catch some tidbit of your voice, some clue as to what you're doing in there, but it's quiet, just the low volume of something playing on TV.

With a sigh he goes down to the kitchen.

Alone with his thoughts, affected by the presence of you and Ellie under his own roof, he takes stock of his life, of all the moments he failed you when he should have been there for you.

That first night he set foot back in Austin after serving time in the Bexar County jail, wondering if he should call you, he'd gone instead to a bar and met Hailey. He didn't recognize her at first, but she'd come on so strong, and the alcohol ran freely that night, so by the time he'd taken her home and her warm, tight little mouth was wrapped around his cock, it was too late. He didn't expect that that one night would lead to her wanting more, but by then you were gone, tucked back safely away in Houston where he couldn't get his hands on you and where you could (he'd hoped) in time forget about him. You were too much of a good girl with too much potential to waste it on someone like him. Hailey was someone who was always going to be stuck in a small town, so he didn't have to worry he was holding her back. But he soon came to realize that all they had between them was fucking. Not that he'd ever minded it in the past, but after having you, experiencing what real love was like, what Hailey offered felt like a cheap replacement, and he just wasn't that man anymore. He knew Sarah hated her, so when he caught Hailey stealing from him he knew that was the last straw and ended things.

Sad to say he went back to his usual routine from before he met you. Working from sunup to sundown, coming home with new aches in his joints to a meal Sarah had had to cook herself, or pizza that had gone cold. On the weekends he'd be at the bar, either with Tommy or more often alone, and he'd find a woman and wind up at her place. He could never bring them back to his, not in his bed that he shared with you.

Seeing you in New Orleans that summer night had been a shock to his system. He thought he'd managed to get over you just a little, but seeing you, a little older than the last time, looking soft and happy and bright-eyed as you laughed with Tommy.. and that fucking rock on your finger that signaled you were taken. Something primeval in him stirred when he ran into you in that restroom hallway, your lips full and glossy from making out with his brother, jealousy surging through him that you'd be so willing to cheat on your husband-to-be with someone other than himself.. it led him to want you more than he'd ever wanted anything in his life.

Leaving you the next day had been the hardest thing, but he had to remind himself you were going to belong to another. He couldn't get in the way of that, not when he'd only shown his love for you by fucking you in a bar restroom. You were going to marry a military man and have a respectable life, that was what he wanted for you. To have a life with Joel would only make you sordid, ripe for gossip. He was old enough to be your father and you were in fact his his best friend's daughter. He couldn't sully your life with his mistakes.

On a last minute whim he'd come to your wedding, sat at the very back as you were oblivious to him, staring into your husband's eyes as you spoke your vows, each word a piece of jagged glass in his heart. He'd left before you could see him, driving back to Texas at a high rate of speed, gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles. Why hadn't he just objected? He could have done it, raised his hand and told the entire congregation that you were his god damn it. He would have led you out, carrying you bridal style, ripped your damn dress off you and fucked you senseless.

It was later that Tommy suggested the dating app. Joel wasn't a fan of technology, and in fact still had his old Nokia phone that Sarah was warning him was becoming obsolete and cajoled him into upgrading to a smartphone. Once she and Tommy had helped him with setting up a profile on eHarmony, the requests piled in. Women from all over the state showed their interest. He had his pick of almost anyone. While he went on a few fruitless dates (some of which actually ended up in sex) there were few that actually interested him.

Until Tess. She was so much like him, and more suited to his age. A divorcee, she knew what she wanted in a relationship and stuck by her values. Beneath her tough exterior Joel found she was actually very kindhearted, even sweet. She cared about animals, liked beer, and was a homebody. She'd resisted his charms at first, but eventually neither could give in to the spark they felt. It took some convincing to get her to marry him. She accepted only on the terms that he move to Boston. She'd visited Texas a few times on business, but she wanted to stay in the northeast, and Joel, in love again for the first time in years, acquiesced.

The problem was they were too much alike. Both wanted to lead, and while he was happy to let Tess have the reigns now and then, it became an issue. This led to more arguments, tense discussions over things that shouldn't have mattered. The divorce, when it finally happened, was a blessing in disguise. Joel followed Tommy away from Boston and found comfort here in Wyoming, in a place he could start anew.

Sarah had been none too subtle when she brought you up in conversation. "Did you know she's a teacher?" "She's single now, divorced actually." "She's in California with her daughter."

Every damn day there was a phone call or a text where you were mentioned. And now, with you here under his roof at Sarah's behest, it was apparent that she was trying to get you two back together again.

He knew he needed to speak with you about that comment you uttered, about "our" daughter Ellie. He'd done the math in his head, just to be safe, and had calculated that he could indeed be her dad. But he had to get the honest answer from you.

It'd be easy if you would at least acknowledge his presence.

Your cold shoulder is more like an arctic icy blast. Your refusal to even meet his eye is like an arrow through his heart. He wishes that you would at least glare at him, or say something sarcastic or hurtful, but your silence is the coldest thing, even with the blizzard outside.

He's hopeful during one moment the next morning, as he's going into the hall restroom while you're coming out. Freshly showered, you're wearing a towel around your body, skin glowing, hair combed back and damp. The steam that surrounds you from your hot shower makes you look like a figure from a movie, an ethereal angel come to earth. His breath catches in his throat as you look up at him, your beautiful eyes wide and plush lips parted. Then you resume your coldness, pulling your towel tighter around you as you go to your room. When he steps in he smells the jasmine aroma of your body wash still in the air around him his dick hardens in response.

Hearing that Sofia has arrived is the one bright spot in your time here.

You meet her at the Tipsy Bison after everyone has helped out shoveling snow off the path. You'd found yourself working next to Joel and said nothing to him, ignoring his silent appeal for you to talk to him.

Now the crew is indulging in some food and beer at the bar while you catch up with your cousin.

"How did you get in? I thought the roads were impassable," you tell her after a big hug and an introduction to her fiancee Ruby. It had come as a surprise to you when she'd told you she was marrying a woman, but Sofia had said she'd only followed her heart and didn't consider herself stuck to any sort of label. Ruby was the perfect person for her and there was no looking back.

"Tommy sent a pilot friend of his to pick us up from the airport when our taxi couldn't make it through the snow," she says, nearly knocked over as Ellie pummels her with a bear hug. "We were helicoptered in, like a couple of VIPs."

It's like old times as you share a booth altogether, different kinds of appetizers in the center of the table as you catch up on things.

"How did you manage to still stay friends with Tommy?" you ask when Ruby and Ellie go to make change for the jukebox. Hearing that Sofia is staying with Tommy and Maria during their visit, you can't help but wonder how other people can so easily put aside the past.

"I think it helped that we were friends before we started dating," she shrugs. "And.. to be honest, our relationship never got that serious. Not like you and Joel," she finishes in a whisper, darting a glance at the elder Miller brother, who's knocking back some beer with Tommy and a few others.

"Why do you ask?" Sofia continues.

"I don't know how to deal with being under the same roof as Joel," you admit. "Everything that he put me through.. I know we're only here for a few days but it feels like an eternity. It's becoming harder to avoid him."

"You should talk to him," she says gently. "You don't have to be best friends or anything, but you're a friend of the bride. You should at least be civil."

You sneak a look over your shoulder at him, just to find he's already staring at you. You quickly turn away.

"Does he know about.." Sofia motions with her head toward Ellie, who's at the jukebox with Ruby.

"No," you respond. "And he doesn't need to know."

"That's not fair to him," she softly scolds you.

"You are the only one I've trusted with this, Sofia. Please do not make me regret telling you."

Sofia is really the only family you have left. You never saw you father after that fateful night when Joel fought him, and your mother disowned Ellie when she came out, causing you to disown your mother in return. Your circle is small but faithful.

She backs off. "All right," she relents. "But what about Ellie? She'll resent you for keeping this a secret this long."

You watch your daughter, who's drifted from the jukebox to one of the pool tables, mindlessly spinning the cue ball upon the soft green surface. She's distracted when she sees another girl across the room, a pretty dark-haired girl around her own age, watching Ellie furtively, as if fascinated.

"What the fuck are you looking at?" Ellie shouts, causing the girl to run away.

"Ellie!" you snap at her, and to your astonishment Joel walks past you to go to her. You freeze, watching their interaction, but all seems to be okay as they talk quietly.

"I don't know what to do for her. I don't know how to help her.. she's so angry, especially since the divorce. And Justin rarely ever sees her. The only thing he's good for is the child support." You swig your beer, itching to go and talk to her, but the stubborn side of you refuses to be closer to Joel than is necessary.

Sofia folds her napkin in sections. "She called me and told me about Riley.. and the little mishap at the mall."

Earlier that year, Ellie and Riley had been picked up by the cops for trespassing in an abandoned mall and vandalizing some stores. It was completely unlike her, and even though you both sought family therapy for all the issues you were going through, it didn't seem to be making much leeway.

"She doesn't seem so angry now," Sofia mentions, and you turn to see Joel and Ellie starting a game of pool. You both watch as she tries to pull off complicated trick shots and Joel just shakes his head in feigned frustration. Once again your gaze lingers too long and you lock eyes, but this time you offer a tiny smile, mouthing 'thanks.'

"Hey Mom, can I go with Joel and Finn? Joel said I have to ask you."

You look up from where you're steam-cleaning your dress for the rehearsal dinner tonight. "Where are you going?"

"It's near the woods on Joel's property. We're just going for a hike," she shrugs.

"I guess.. just behave yourself, okay?"

She grins, glad to have gotten permission. You follow her down to the foyer where Joel and Finn are getting their hats and gloves on. "Be careful," you tell them, though it's mostly meant for Joel.

"Of course. You're okay with her shootin'?"

"What?!"

Ellie manages to look chagrined. "I didn't think you'd let me go if you knew guns would be involved."

"Well you thought right!"

"I won't let her if you won't allow it," Joel offers.

"Come on!" Ellie groans.

"Just remember that you're on thin ice back home," you tell her without wanting to let on to the others about Ellie's troubled past.

"Somethin' the matter?" Joel asks, eyes darting between you and her.

"Nope," Ellie's all smiles when you hesitate to answer. "Let's get going!"

She and Finn race out the door into the snowy yard just as Joel stops for a brief moment. "I won't let her shoot if you don't want her to," he says solemnly.

The nearness of him, the rich baritone of his voice could easily bring you to your knees. It feels like a chore just to swallow that emotion and consider it dead, a mistake.

"Just be careful," you repeat, a smile flitting on your lips. Heat rises in your face when you see his gaze drop down to your mouth, his tongue peeking out to swipe across his own lips.

"You could come with us."

Your first instinct is to refuse, to keep that wall built between him and yourself. Good fences make good neighbors and brick walls keep people from reliving past trauma.

But damn it's hard to say no when he's here right in front of you, after all this time, and the parts of you that have healed just want to give in, to go into his arms again.

It's not a surprise when you're in the passenger seat of his truck, like old times. And though it's a newer model and the seats have warmers and the upholstery makes the whole car smell like it was just driven off the lot, in a way it still feels like summer 2003.

Finn's done this before, the apple of his grandfather's eye. Even with the skill of a child, he shoots with ease, knocking down most of the targets Joel had set up on a fence.

When it's Ellie's turn she's eager for the gun, but her practice shots are haphazard: off an old fallen tree, a random snowbank. She huffs in frustration.

"Wide right," Joel tells her. "You're flinchin'."

Ellie shakes her head. "The target's too small."

"I made it bigger than I should've. Eject the cartridge."

You watch your only child move with precision, handling the gun with ease despite being new to this. "I'm not flinching, the rifle just sucks."

You and Finn exchange a look, suppressing your laughter.

"Okay, give it." Joel changes places with Ellie, who quips, "It doesn't aim right, you'll see."

It's hard to tear your eyes from him as he sets up, moving with the ease of someone half his age. "A deep breath in, slow breath out. You squeeze the trigger like you love it," he says, ignoring Ellie's teasing remarks. "Gentle, steady, nice and slow."

"You gonna shoot this thing or get it pregnant?" she smirks, and when you laugh out loud Joel shakes his head, pulling off the perfect shot.

After, you rest on the tailgate of the truck while drinking warm beverages from your thermoses. Ellie and Finn gather their energy quickly enough, playing in the snow and chasing each other. It brightens your day to see your daughter smiling.

"I wanna apologize for the other day," Joel says, his eyes flicking to you. "I was outta line. I've apologized to Ellie too. I think she and I are good now."

You nod, somewhat relieved that he'd brought it up first. "I'm sorry too. I guess I get pretty riled up when someone tries to out-parent me."

Joel looks away, towards the mountains that peak their grayness against the clear blue sky. "He been outta the picture long?"

"Who? Justin?" You notice Joel winces at your ex husband's name. "Long enough. He was supposed to spend time with her for Christmas but chose his new wife over his own daughter. She didn't take it very well."

"Fuckin' bastard," he mutters. "Always figured there was a reason for me to not like him."

You give him a strange look. "You didn't know him."

"Didn't need to. He took you away from me. That's reason enough."

"Joel," you say quietly, both a scolding and a scoff. You remember his body against yours that night, the way your sheets bore his scent until the day before Justin came back from out of town and you had to wash away the evidence of your betrayal.

"I'm sorry I didn't go after you. There were a million opportunities and I failed each time."

You say his name again, with softness this time, your hand finding his, his palm almost completely dwarfing yours. You think about his fingers inside you, teasing you for the first time, showing you how to open up to him, and how you ended up giving away your whole heart.

In the moment where you can say the most heartwarming or romantic or even angry thing, what comes out of your mouth is: "You never accepted my friend request."

Joel looks puzzled. "What?"

"My friend request. On Facebook. I tried to add you but you never accepted it, so I canceled it." Cringing at your own words, how needy they sound, you take your hand from his, but he traps it within his own again.

"Darlin', I never look at that stuff. I only got one 'cause everyone else goaded me into it." His eyes look mirthful as he sees your doleful eyes.

"And that's how I found out about Tess.."

"Oh." The mirthful look is gone, replaced by a dark, blank look. The first marriage, the only marriage he ever had, so late in life, ended.

"What was she like?"

"Why do you wanna know?" He looks at the ground, as if the snow is so interesting. "What was that idiot fuckboy husband of yours like?"

You almost laugh, surprised that he's jealous, even after you've moved on from your marriage.

"He wasn't as great as I thought," you shrug. "But that doesn't matter now."

Joel smiles, agreeing. "Tess was.. we were good for awhile but you're right, doesn't matter now."

"Because we both turned out okay.. me and you."

He thinks it over a bit, eventually nodding. "Yeah.." His deep brown eyes meet yours, and you catch a glimmer of the man he was before, twenty years past, a single dad with a teenage girl and an interest in the new girl next door. "I'm sorry.. for everything. We happened so fast that my brain had to catch up with my heart."

You're afraid that if you think about it for too long you'll cry and never stop. "We don't have to talk about that.."

He nods, looking a little sad that you declined. "You're right, we don't."

"Look at you with all this land," you smile, gently teasing him to change the subject. "What are you gonna do with all of it?"

Joel shrugs, looking at his property, thinking again of the possibilities. "I might decide to turn it into a ranch, raise sheep," he shrugs. "They're quiet and do what they're told."

He's quiet another moment, before his voice drops an octave. "I'm really glad you came, babygirl.. it's really good to see you. Don't think I said that before."

A smile graces your lips, a genuine one, and the warmth of his words melts what's left of your defenses. "Joel.. there's something I need to tell you.. about Ellie.." The words are out before you even think.

Your heart pounds, taking residence in your throat as if to keep the truth from spilling out. Joel turns his whole body to you. His eyes search yours, without question or condemnation, as if he's willing you to say it because he already knows, because he just wants it made real.

When the moment passes it's a disappointment to both of you. It's getting later in the afternoon and you still need to get ready for tonight. The kids trudge back to the truck and you get in next to Joel in the front. There's a quietness that fills the space, thick and somewhat desperate.

The Tipsy Bison has gone through another temporary makeover for the rehearsal dinner: garlands of lights arch across the ceiling from beam to beam, creating a pleasant, dreamy atmosphere. People mill around waiting for the bride and groom who are running a little late. Drinks are served and tables of food boast different kinds of cuisine.

Ellie makes a beeline for the hors d'oevres, immediately picking out what she wants and stuffing it straight into her mouth as if she hasn't seen food in months. Joel watches her from the next table over, trying hard as hell not to call her out too harshly, but as his stomach growls he joins her in the hunt for sustenance.

A tray of pastel-colored macarons catches Ellie's eye and she takes a light green treat with her fingers. "What are these?" She scrutinizes it, taking a quick sniff.

"It's some kinda cookie.. or something.. how the hell should I know?" he grumbles.

"Pistachio," she grunts in disgust, putting it back on the plate.

"Well, now don't put it back, you've already touched it and sniffed it and everything.." Joel quickly pops the discarded macaron into his mouth.

"If you want 'em they're all yours," she says, giving his shoulder a couple heavy claps before moving on down the line of food.

He just shakes his head, looking around for you for the tenth time tonight, finding you with Sarah and her soon-to-be inlaws at the bar. His mouth goes dry at the sight of you in a dark red dress, long-sleeved, cinched at the waist, and he feels a familiar rush of blood to his cock as he eyes the thigh-length slit on one side of the skirt.

"That color is sensational on you."

You turn to the voice you've just heard, as the group you were talking with disperses.

"Hi," you tell the older, well-dressed man in front of you. "I don't believe we've met." But then it hits you, and just as he introduces himself you realize you already know his name.

"I'm Frank," he says, a Duchenne smile lighting up his features and crinkling the wrinkles around his eyes. He's handsome, and very friendly. And he was friends with Joel during his marriage to Tess.

He introduces you to his husband Bill, who regards you with a certain suspicion and gives a gruff acknowledgement to your hello. "He's like that with everyone," Franks explains in a stage whisper, while rolling his eyes. "He's just a big grump, but I love him."

"I'm a friend of the bride," you tell them after giving your name, and also introducing Ellie, who's arrived next to you with a plate piled high with shrimp, pulled pork sliders, and mini cheesecakes.

"She's a friend of Joel's," Frank tells Bill, as if to clarify.

"Um, yes.. I'm also a friend of his," you agree. Pretending to spot someone across the room, you excuse yourself, giving a subtle motion for Ellie to follow you, but she stays where she is, popping a whole shrimp in her mouth, eyeing the couple.

"There's a story there," Frank says enticingly as he sips his beer.

"What do you mean?" she asks, curious about the gossip.

Bill gives him a look and shakes his head. "She's a kid, she doesn't need your dramatic stories."

"Now I have to know!" Ellie insists.

Frank feigns annoyance. "Oh all right."

He weaves the tale of Joel and his wife Tess: happily married at first, so alike in attitude and hobbies. She thought she knew everything about the man she married, but when Tommy, in a drunken game of poker one night, recalled a certain young woman who Joel knew, a woman who could tie a knot in a cherry stem with her tongue, Joel told his brother, in a similar drunken state, that he remembered her fondly, missed her like crazy, she was the one who got away.

Tess wasn't the type to hound someone for details, but she didn't like there was a part of Joel's past that she didn't know about. Especially if that past was filled with him falling in love with and screwing a college girl. This naturally led to arguments that Tess refused to drop. Joel didn't want to relive that time with you, and insisted it meant nothing since you were well and truly out of his life.

But the damage had been done, and the thorn of jealousy had pierced Tess's heart. You were a stranger to her and still could not be defeated.

Frank recalled with suppressed glee the night Tess had stormed out on a dinner party, ranting at Joel about "not being able to get over a stupid ass teenager" and causing a scene for the others to eat up. It had embarrassed Joel deeply, but when news of Sarah's wedding had become known, Joel couldn't keep it secret from the friends of his ex-wife. He'd come to like them in his own way, especially Bill, with whom he shared a predilection for quiet and keeping to one's self. They hunted and fished like old times and soon enough both he and Frank were invited to the wedding.

"There's a saying that goes," Frank is telling Ellie, "'everyone can see it but them.'"

Ellie glances at you across the room, and then at Joel. You and he trade silent, surreptitious glances at one another, filled with longing. You glance at him and he catches you before you glance away, and vice versa. The signal between your gazes is irrefutable. There's something there, has been all this time. All it needed was a little meddling from Sarah to bring the spark back to life.

For the first time Ellie sees you as something more than her mother. She realizes you had a past, a life before she was born, and a fraction of that life was spent in love with a man she just met a couple days ago.

"Hey Mom, can you help?"

Hearing Ellie, you immediately shift into Mom Mode, stopping your own get-ready routine to assist her. She's in your doorway, holding out her wrists. She picked out the suit herself, but the cufflinks are something new.

"Did you get these from your dad?"

"Joel let me borrow them for today."

It's finally the day of the wedding, and as the ceremony isn't until the evening, the whole house is a kind of organized chaos from morning through the afternoon. As if your nerves weren't already on fire, Sarah had approached you early that morning (fortunately for her while you were drinking your coffee) and asked if you'd replace one of her bridesmaids who'd come down with a cold overnight and couldn't attend.

You'd reasoned with her that you didn't have a bridesmaid dress, but that was easily solved when it was revealed the bridesmaids were all wearing jewel tones, and the sapphire gown you'd purchased off the rack would do just fine.

You had anticipated being part of a crowd. Now you'd be at the front of the congregation, all eyes on you, especially Joel's.

Shaking yourself from your thoughts, you finish helping Ellie with her cufflinks and let her entertain you with whatever teenage thought is flipping around in her brain while you touch up your makeup.

"I'm supposed to meet with Sarah and the bridal party at the church. You can ride with me or you'll have to find a ride with someone else."

"Joel will take me."

You brush away some stray powder on your cheek. "Are you sure?"

"Maybe he could take both of us. Want me to ask him?"

"No--"

But she's gone before you can stop her.

You feel Joel's eyes on you as you during the short drive to the church, and you blame the heat you feel coursing through your body on the seat warmer.

"It's a nice thing you're doin' for Sarah, steppin' in at the last minute," he says, eyes finally on the road.

"I can't let down a bride in need," you say somewhat cheerfully. "She'd do the same for me."

"Maybe at your next wedding." Ellie pipes up from the backseat, and Joel's frown is not lost on you.

The lead-up to the actual ceremony is a blur, as it was at your own wedding fifteen years before. The bridal party clusters around Sarah, who looks radiant, as she promises she isn't nervous. You can sense her agitation in the way her knee bounces as she's seated, one of the bridesmaids doing a last minute touch up to her hair. The air is heavy with excitement, the scent of hair spray and perfume all around you, reminding you that you're flammable.

"Remember this day," you advise her, and she looks up at you with a grateful smile. "It goes by unbelievably fast."

You wonder if you'll ever have this again, the butterflies in your stomach as you wait for the moment when you see your man at the aisle, awaiting you. You were lucky to have it once. Twice would be an anomaly, considering you haven't had a real relationship in so long.

Joel knocks and, granted entrance, the bridesmaids flutter about, getting ready for their entrance into the church. The bride and her father are left alone, no doubt exchanging words of love before he gives her away to her true love.

You had no one to walk down the aisle with when you were a bride, and the memory threatens to cloud your mind as you take your small bouquet of white roses and camellias. "Canon in D" starts, and the line makes its way down the aisle, towards the altar where Theo and his groomsmen wait.

Situated at the altar, the congregation rises as the music changes, and Sarah walks in, arm in arm with Joel.

Your eyes are on him the entire time, and your heart feels to big to fit in your chest. You've never seen Joel in a suit, but this one is perfectly tailored to his broad, strong physique. His hair is perfectly styled, his grey visible through the curls you long to run your fingers through.

When Sarah and Theo exchange vows your gaze unexpectedly meet Joel's and this time neither of you look away. You catch the glimmer of a tear falling down his cheek, which he does not wipe away. The bride and groom's words seem to ring loud and true: a promise of love through hard times and illness; of love that only grows in each others' absence; of love that does not die even after death.

The reception is held at the Tipsy Bison, and you marvel at how it's managed to disguise itself once more from a saloon to an elegant wedding atmosphere. A lot of money has gone into the week's events, and you know it's all Joel's doing. He's giving away his daughter, sending her off in style, giving her a day she'll remember forever.

You watch Sarah and Joel during their father-daughter dance, a tradition you didn't get to have yourself. "I Loved Her First" by Heartland starts up by the band onstage, and it tugs on your heartstrings to watch them. In the back of your mind you see them, Joel still thirty-six and Sarah still fourteen. By the time Sarah and Theo have their first dance as husband and wife you're already in the ladies' room, splashing cold water on your face so no one can see you've been crying.

Later, the bridesmaids and groomsmen have scattered, dancing or drinking at the bar, mingling. You stay at your seat at the now nearly-empty wedding party table, fingers twirling the stem of your champagne glass.

Mired in your own thoughts, you don't realize Joel has approached, crouching next to you.

"Dance with me?" he asks, his voice nearly a rasp with how nervous he is.

Wordlessly you take his hand, which practically dwarfs your own, as he leads you to the dance floor. You fall into a rhythm as the band starts up "Tennessee Whiskey", swaying softly to the music. His right hand rests on your lower back, gently guiding you. Your heart pounds as you gaze into his eyes. You haven't been this close to him since the night you conceived Ellie, the fateful night that threw a wrench into all your plans.

"It was a beautiful wedding," you lean in close to be heard over the music.

Joel shivers at your proximity, the brush of your lips against his ear, and he pulls you a little closer. "I'm happy you came all this way for it. You didn't have to."

"I wanted to," you affirm, your hand gliding up to his shoulder.

The air is thick with tension, much like in the days you'd first met. You have to turn away or risk your feelings made known to everyone here.

Ellie's at one of the booths with the dark-haired girl from a couple days ago, watching something on her phone. As the girl laughs you see Ellie looking at her with a warmth you haven't known her capable of for anyone else.

"She's going to hate me for having to take her away again.." you tell him. "I haven't seen her this happy in a long time."

He clears his throat. "Maybe now she has a reason to return." He nods towards Ellie and her new friend.

Your limbs stiffen a little in response. You're not yet ready to think about the future, the possibilities it holds. You've barely begun to mend your friendship with Joel.

"Maybe," you relent, quietly, a promise made in the ether.

Joel's silent as the music moves smoothly in the air between you. His grip tightens on your body as he asks, "She's mine, ain't she?"

You snap from your thoughts, your heart in your throat as you stop dancing. "Excuse me?" Your eyes bore into him, daring him to speak the truth for himself.

"The other day you said 'our daughter'.. the timeline's right, I'm not that bad at math," he manages a smile.

"Joel, I.." you shake your head. "It's all too much. I can't think about this right now."

"Just tell me the truth," he says quietly.

"What would it matter if she was?"

"It'd make a whole hell of a difference. Two daughters, two Miller girls. Don't you think somethin' like that would make me happy?"

For a rare moment you let yourself think about the day your mother came to get you, pull you back home to Houston seeped in shame and regret. She'd lied and manipulated facts to get you on her side. You vowed you'd never be like her or put Ellie through that.

"Yes, Joel.." you whisper. "She's yours.."

The joy that shines in his eyes is like nothing you've ever seen before. When his arms wrap around you your lips find his as if twenty years has never passed between you. Right there, in the middle of the dance floor, you're making out like teenagers.

"I want you," he growls.

"Let's get out of here," you agree.

You're barely through the front door of his home when he presses you to the wall, his mouth hungry for yours. You hadn't thought you'd experience this level of passion again, but time has not diminished it for either of you.

"Joel," you moan as he presses himself to you, the blunt hardness of his erection teasing you. "Fuck me, Joel.."

He groans at your words, body aching with desire as he goes to his knees in front of you, lifting the hem of your dress. He presses messy kisses along your thighs while his hands roam over your hips and ass, his breath hot against your skin as he approaches the spot he most wants to taste again.

"Been too long, darlin'," he murmurs as he pulls your lacy underwear down your legs. "Been too damn long since I had you like this."

You kick your panties off, hooking one leg over his shoulder as he dives in, tongue lapping at your sweet pussy like a thirsty man finally finding water.

He stays there, tongue dancing between your folds and then tickling your clit, tasting you so deeply that you cry out, head falling back, body arched towards him, fingers tangled in his hair. Joel feasts like a man starved, slurping you up, inhaling your scent that surrounds him. There's nothing about you that's changed. You're still so sensitive to his touch, responsive to his lips, tongue, and now fingers pressed deep inside, finding the spot that makes you scream while his lips purse around your throbbing clit.

He doesn't stop after you come. He feasts on you over and over again, making up for lost time, pleading for your forgiveness this way, literally on his knees until you scream his name, convulsing around his fingers, your honey collecting on his large digits. Only when you feel completely boneless does he remove them gently, licking up your syrupy taste.

Joel picks you up, your dress falling back in to place as he carries you bridal style up to his room.

All roads have led back to him. No matter where you went, no matter who you chose, Joel was always going to be there at the end of the path, your guiding light, even when you thought you hated him and when you thought he would never choose you again.

Even now, his body over yours, he's the missing piece of the puzzle. He teases you with his cock until you beg him to just put it in, to make you whole again. The glorious slide of his flesh into yours causes you both to gasp and your bodies still for a moment, taking in the significance of this act which you've done so many times before.

He's older now, but his vigor is not gone. He fucks you gently at first, then with impatience, as if he's afraid you'll dissolve like a dream in daylight. You'd know the feel of his cock among any other, the smooth outline and the ridges, the way he's molded his perfect shape into you, marked you years ago when you were a virgin, as if leaving his initials inside you. Mine.

You've never had a man to match him, never had someone so in sync with your body. He knows all your buttons, every dip and valley that his hand caresses. He's mapped out your skin like a cartographer, claiming the land in his own name.

You come almost too quickly the first time, before he flips you on top of him, gripping your hips as you ride him. "Love you," you moan as you come close to the edge again, heart and soul flying ahead of you into the bliss you've only really known with him.

Beneath you Joel's eyes go wide when you come, his hips lifting up into you, warmth spilling into your core.

"Babygirl," he whispers, a choked grunt as he turns pale, his skin clammy and sweaty when he loses consciousness.

As soon as Sarah and Ellie arrive at the hospital you hug them, overcome with worry for Joel's medical emergency.

"How is he?" Sarah asks, still in her wedding dress. Even in the emergency waiting room she's generating a lot of interested looks her way.

"They just took him in a few minutes ago," you tell her, secretly glad she wasn't there to see her dad in such shape. "I think it was a heart attack.."

"Oh my god," she puts her hand over her mouth and sits on the nearest chair, Ellie right next to her, comforting her.

"The party's winding down at the bar," Ellie explains. "Only a few people know-- Theo, Tommy, Maria.."

"We didn't want to worry anyone else," Sarah adds.

You look at her, heart aching. This is supposed to be her special day.. and if something happens to Joel--

Don't think like that.

The three of you sit down, drinking stale coffee from the machine down the hall. Soon Tommy joins you, Theo staying at the house to keep an eye on Finn.

The worst thoughts poke through your brain, teasing you and taunting you. But at last the doctor comes out, a guy even younger than yourself, green scrubs and white coat.

He talks with the family, letting them know the diagnosis. "It was a silent myocardial infarction, basically a mild heart attack," he explains it. "He's going to be fine and he's resting right now."

"A heart attack?" Tommy and Sarah exclaim together.

"At his age it's not uncommon.. he's fifty-six years old," the doctor checks the chart. "Now, we have him on some aspirin and beta-blockers. Tests show he doesn't have enough blockage to necessitate surgery, but he'll need blood pressure medication and to keep a healthier lifestyle."

"Can we see him?" you ask.

"Yes, two at a time, preferably. We want to keep him calm while we're monitoring him." He checks the chart again and looks at you. "You brought him in, correct, ma'am?"

"Yes.. why?"

"What was Mr. Miller doing before he exhibited symptoms of his coronary event?"

"Um.. what?" you pretend not to understand.

"What was he doing before he had his heart attack?"

"Mild heart attack," Tommy emphasizes.

"Well.." you race to think of what to tell him.

"I take it you were celebrating a wedding," the doctor says, seeing Sarah in her dress and the rest of you in tuxes and gowns and whispers a 'Congratulations' to her.

"Yes. Well, we danced.." you answer, and the doctor keeps his eyes on you as if he knows you're lying.

You go up to him, giving a subtle whisper. "We were.. intimate--"

"Sexual relations," he nods, writing it on the chart. "It's important for us to know what was a causing factor in his event. Now, two at a time can visit him."

Tommy and Sarah go first. He gives you a sly wink. "Y'all were fuckin'!" he teases, passing by. Sarah gives you an excited smile, to which you just purse your lips.

It's quiet but for the bag of Lays Ellie has opened, eating the chips slowly. "So you and Joel?"

You nod.

"But not just tonight.. a long time ago, right?"

There's an odd sensation in your stomach, as if the unspoken truth is fluttering around inside, beating its wings as it tries to find a way out. "I guess there's a lot I need to tell you. But only when you're ready."

Ellie seems to steel herself for whatever conversation is on the way, nodding at last, crumpling up the bag and tossing it in the bin. "Ready."

Seeing Joel in the hospital bed is a sobering visual. Years ago your age gap represented something illicit, scandalous. Now you're reminded that no matter what road you and he take from here, you will most likely outlive Joel Miller.

He's awake when you and Ellie go in. It's obvious he doesn't like being here, but in his current state is not fit to complain.

"Hey," you say softly, going to his side. "How are you feeling?" You caress his cheek with the back of your hand.

Joel's eyes close at your delicate touch, and when he opens them there's a warmth in them that can't be denied. "I've been better, babygirl," he says. "But I'm damn glad you're here."

He glances at Ellie, seated in a chair on his other side. "And how about you, kiddo? You okay?"

"Am I okay?" she says incredulously. "Dude, I'm not the one in a hospital bed." But her face clearly shows relief that Joel's all right. You also see her brain working over everything you've told her (well, the gist of it.. there are some things she doesn't need to know).

"I was so worried," you tell him, your voice soft and warm, all your feelings coming to the forefront. "I thought I was gonna lose you."

Tears appear in Joel's eyes, which he brushes away impatiently. "You ain't losin' me yet, baby. Not for a long time, not if you don't want to."

"Joel.." you whisper. "Do you really want to do this? After everything that's happened.. all the hurt we put each other through.. all the secrets.." you cast a glance at Ellie, who looks more reserved than you've ever seen her before. Sensing this is a moment you want to share alone, she gives a fleeting smile before she leaves, giving Joel a playful mock hit on his shoulder. Still smiling, Joel pats the space beside him in the bed and you snuggle in with him, his body warm.

"Haven't you figured it out yet?" Joel asks softly, eyes imploring you. "You're mine and I'm yours. That's how this thing of ours operates: you belong to me and I belong to you. Despite everything that's happened in the last twenty years, that's been the one constant." His hands grips yours, thumb running over your knuckles. "I don't care if I've got thirty years or thirty days left of my life. I wanna spend the rest of it with you, babygirl."

You search his eyes, seeing nothing there but the truth, laid bare and ready for you to either accept or deny.

He continues, "I don't wanna keep failin' you. I'm too much in love to let you go again." Then he gently lifts your chin, making sure you meet his eyes. "But only if you want me back."

Some would say you're on a precipice in the choice you're about to make, but it's not that difficult to choose. It's simply the separate paths you're on, converging at last. for good.

"You're the only one I've ever wanted," you whisper. It's not a fancy declaration of truth, a bit surprising coming from an English teacher, but it's the only thing Joel needs to hear before he pulls you close for another kiss.

Joel's released on Christmas Eve, and the two of you don't waste any time.

You and Joel are married in a small, intimate ceremony in the spacious living room of his home. Ellie, Sarah, Theo, Finn, Tommy, Maria, Sofia, Ruby, and even Bill and Frank are in attendance, watching as a judge from town and friend of the Millers officiates.

Joel promises you a nicer wedding when the frost thaws, anywhere you want in the world. You tell him you can't imagine a more perfect place to marry the most perfect man for you.

Your first wedding went by in a blur, but this time around you engrave it upon your heart, make note of every little skip of your heart when you and Joel hold hands, his delicate touch as he places a gorgeous sapphire ring on your hand, the sweetness of his lips when you share your first kiss as husband and wife.

After Christmas, Sarah and Theo leave for their honeymoon to Maui, and with the weather more agreeable the guests take leave too. Tommy sees to it that you and Joel have your house all to yourselves for your own honeymoon.

You insist on taking it easy with Joel, but he tells you he'd rather die while inside you, his name pouring from your lips the last thing he ever hears. He seems to get a second wind with you, making use of every possible flat surface in the house. You feel better about such activity when he takes his medication, promising to take it faithfully so long as you follow it with a kiss.

One morning after a particularly strenuous night, while drinking coffee in the kitchen and discussing your plans, Ellie returns, calling out to you before she enters.

"You're not doing anything gross in there, are you?"

"No," Joel laughs.

"Yes we are, we're working on making a sibling for you," you smirk over your coffee, glancing at Joel and giving a little shake of your head when his eyes go wide.

"Gross," she mutters, walking in. "Joel, Tommy says everyone's meeting at the Tipsy Bison for lunch later. But he couldn't get through to you on the phone." She makes a playful, pointed look, eyeing the two of you.

She's lukewarm to the idea of calling Joel 'Dad', and there's going to be some legal hoops to go through regarding Justin and his parental claim. But it all seems so small in comparison to the problems that plagued you before. You can get through anything because now you have each other.

You and Joel get ready as Ellie goes back to Tommy's, enjoying spending her time with Finn and getting ready to leave with them instead.

Unable to keep your hands off each other, it takes you twice as long to get dressed, hands going into each other's back pockets, lips finding each other's throats.

There's all the time in the world for it now.

Driving up to the Tipsy Bison, Joel turns on the radio. "Cherry, Cherry" starts to play, and you sing along with Neil Diamond, catching your husband's eye as he smiles and sings along too. The road before you is smooth, mountains standing guard in the distance, staying the same grand height no matter how far along you drive. Joel's hand finds yours, presses a kiss to it before entwining your fingers.

"Babe?"

"Yes, Mrs. Miller?"

You smile. "Let's not go right away. Let's drive around a little, play this song again, just soak in this moment."

"Of course, babygirl. I don't want to share you with the others just yet anyway."

Neil continues on the radio: No, we won't tell a soul where we gone to Girl, we do whatever we want to Ah, I love the way that you do me Cherry, babe, you really get to me

It's come full circle, and it only took two decades to complete. You and Joel in his truck, your song playing, the sun shining through the hazy clouds. You could close your eyes and it'd be 2003 again.

dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑

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[lemonlover1110]

𝐖𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐬

Toji Fushiguro

[Chapter 1] The Grand Proposal

Story Masterlist

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Chapter Summary: Toji has been stressing about this for the past week. He needs it to be perfect. He wants to tell his grandchildren about how grandpa was romantic and thoughtful once upon a time- He wants to set the standard high for them. Grandpa loves grandma like no other.

Chapter Warnings: Fluff

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“Does my tie look okay?” Toji feels ridiculous asking the question to his four-year-old but today is a very special occasion. It’s one of the most important days in Toji’s life, and he can trust that his son will tell him the truth.

“You’re too tall.” Megumi can’t reach all the way up to the tie, so Toji picks the little guy up and puts him on the bed. Megumi gets his grubby little hands on the tie and fixes it. He crooks his father’s tie, even though it was perfectly fine before– In Megumi’s eyes it looks perfect, which is what matters. Toji’s too nervous to even notice it, blindly accepting the judgment from Megumi.

“I think I’m ready.” Toji says, until Megumi’s hand rubs against the stubble on his face. Toji sighs, feeling pathetic for the way he acts tonight. “Okay, I have to shave.”

“Yeah, you don’t want her to say no.” Megumi responds, sitting down on the bed as his father walks away.

Toji is taking deep breaths, trying his best to calm down. He’s nervous, a feeling that rarely comes to Toji but when it does, it’s bad; it consumes him as a whole. He’s proposing to you tonight. After a year of dating, Toji decided that it’s time. 

A year is not a long time by any means, but Toji just knows that you’re the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with. It’s undeniable, after all, it’s destiny. He just knows that you’re the woman he’s supposed to be with, and he doesn’t want to waste another minute.

Maybe it’s too soon, and he should hold off on the question. You’ve barely talked about marriage anyway, you’ve just talked about the fact that you do want to get married eventually. He can’t back down now, he already spent money on the proposal so he’ll try at the very least. 

His hands are shaky as he puts the shaving cream on his face… He’s done this before, why does he feel so nervous? Granted, last time he proposed to a woman it was a spur of the moment decision, not a very detailed plan. He didn’t have time to think about it and back down like he does now.

“Am I coming with you?” Megumi barges into the bathroom, and Toji nearly cuts himself, startled by the little one.

“You’re staying with a friend.” Toji answers, and Megumi pouts. He wants to be included, not stay behind and hear about the spectacular night you and his father had. Why can’t he be included?

“I’m more fun than you.” Megumi says, and Toji laughs. There’s no doubt in Toji’s mind, but this doesn’t require Megumi and his way of providing entertainment. “I’m not going to bother you.”

“You still have to stay behind, Megumi.” Toji responds, and the child pouts. Megumi stomps away, and Toji rolls his eyes. What a dramatic child. “You’re going to have fun! Don’t throw a tantrum.”

Megumi somewhat helps Toji calm down his nerves. At least he gets a laugh out of the child’s attitude. Toji swears the child doesn’t get the attitude from him.

“Are you ready to go, Megumi?” Toji yells as he pats his face dry. He shouldn’t be asking the question when he’s not even close to being ready, but it’s easier to focus on someone else when you’re in Toji’s shoes. There’s no response which can only be one thing: Megumi’s too mad at Toji to care.

Toji walks out of the bathroom to get the rest of his shit together. He’s running behind, he promised he’d be at your door at seven but he’s going to be at least ten minutes late. He feels like he’s lost his head– Oh, he’s praying you accept because there’s no way he can propose again. He absolutely hates this feeling, he has no idea where to go and which step he should take next.

“I promise I’ll behave.” Megumi is following behind Toji, trying to convince his father to let him go. He just wants to be a part of this very special night, not be left behind with some loser. Toji ignores the child that follows behind like a lost puppy. 

“Where’s my cologne?” Toji mutters, running around trying to find it. He’s lost his head. It’s not where it usually is which leads him to believe that the little bug that keeps pestering him is hiding items. He could go without it, but you often mention how he smells so good that you could just eat him. He’s trying to get everything in his favor tonight, so he can’t go off without the cologne. “Where did you put it, Megumi?”

“I don’t have it.” He claims, but one swift look at the child tells Toji all he needs to know. Toji begins to walk to the child’s bedroom, and the moment he steps into the room he notices a plushie that’s out of place. He moves it to the side to find his cologne and as well as the ring box.

“Megumi, what did I tell you about lying?” Toji sternly speaks, looking at the child that’s less than half his size. Megumi looks at his feet in shame, not because he feels bad but because he’s been caught.

“To only do it when it helps you.” Megumi responds, barely audible for the man. Toji doesn’t care to discipline the child too much, he’s running out of time. He’ll deal with Megumi later.

“I have to get going.” Toji looks at his watch, realizing that he should be out the door by this time. But he can’t leave Megumi alone at home, and Megumi isn’t ready yet. “Megumi, if you aren’t ready within the next five minutes, I’m leaving you home alone.”

“Okay…” He hates the hint of attitude that’s in Megumi’s voice. The child couldn’t care less. He doesn’t take Toji seriously, and Toji can’t stand it. 

“You know what happens when a child your age is left home alone?” Instilling fear will surely work. Toji is fighting back a smirk when Megumi shakes his head. “A big ugly monster comes and takes them.”

“Uglier than you?” Megumi says, which makes Toji sigh. Perhaps he should be offended, but he’s used to Megumi’s mouthiness at this point. It’s just another night for Toji. 

“Yeah, uglier than me and meaner as well. Now get ready.” Toji responds, though his tactic is not working. Megumi is unbothered, and Toji can’t afford to waste another second. It’s fine, Megumi isn’t really doing much, so he’ll be fine in pajamas.

“We’re leaving.” Toji picks the child up and carries him to the car. Megumi is kicking his feet, trying to break free from his father’s grip– To no avail, Toji is much stronger than Megumi. “Any chance you had of coming with me perished.”

“What does that mean?” Megumi asks while kicking his feet in the air. “Let me get my toys!”

“No, you made your choice. You wanted to be a brat, and now you’re going to Gojo’s place in your pajamas, with no shoes and no toys.” Toji feels a twinge of empathy for the child but he’s too irritated to let Megumi go back inside. Toji is running late, and tonight he wants you to have no doubts about him. He’s the perfect man for you, he has to showcase that in every possible way.

“I’m gonna run away!” Megumi yells, though he can’t do much when Toji holds him. Toji rolls his eyes. He knows that the neighbors hear how his child yells from the top of his lungs, but they know Megumi is a tad bit overdramatic. 

“Right before your fifth birthday? Please do me the favor so I can sell your gift.” Toji responds which instantly calms Megumi down. That threat works like a charm, perhaps he should’ve led with that. “Gojo better tell me that you were an angel or else.”

“I’ll behave!” Megumi claims, needing his birthday gifts to be safe. 

That was all it took for Megumi to behave for the rest of the night.

Toji’s hands are sweaty as he knocks on your door. His heart is about to beat out of his chest… All for what, a marriage proposal? Toji, a man that’s conquered many hearts because of how charming (and manipulative) he can be when he sets his heart on something. This shouldn’t be hard, he shouldn’t be nervous.

“Toji!” You exclaim as you open the door, looking as beautiful as ever tonight. He’s about to crap himself, he can’t propose. Your hands meet behind his neck before bringing him down to peck his lips. Your nose goes to the crook of his neck, and just as he expected, you tell him, “You smell so good, I could eat you.”

“I’m not opposed to that.” Toji chuckles as you press a subtle kiss on his neck. He pulls you into his embrace, hands resting on the small of your back. “You’re looking stunning tonight.”

“When am I not?” You reply with a laugh. You close the door behind you, and intertwine your arm with his before walking out. “Where are you taking me tonight, big boy?”

“It’s a surprise.” He tells you, and you squint as you look at him. Something is up with him, Toji doesn’t do surprises. “You’re looking at me funny.”

“What’s up with you?” You question, and you swear you see his cheeks turn pink. But Toji? That’s unlikely, your eyes must be deceiving you. You look away, knowing there’s no possibility that your boyfriend is blushing.

“There’s nothing up with me. Jumping to conclusions already?” He tries to play it off, which gives it away. There’s something up with him, and you’re going to figure it out.

“How’s Megumi?” You ask him, and Toji can say a lot but he decides on sighing. That’s all he needs to say, you know that the little guy can be stubborn. “What did he do this time?”

“Wanted to join our date.” He chuckles, and you can’t help but laugh as well. You’d let the child join, you’re always happy to have Megumi with you… But Toji knows best. And you do appreciate not having to watch your mouth and being able to be as affectionate as you want to be with Toji.

“Poor little guy, you should’ve let him join.” You’re clearly joking, but Toji can’t help but roll his eyes. Megumi is such a cockblock that he should be studied by scientists, it should be impossible. Luckily he got rid of the child for the night. 

“Can’t thank Satoru enough for taking him off my hands tonight.” Toji says, and you’re fighting back on smiling as you think about what tonight has in store for you. It’s going to be fun, that’s what you can gather from this.

“I’ll thank Satoru if you make tonight worth it.” You wink at him, and he should make some sort of remark that’ll make you chuckle, but he feels as if his heart is about to beat out of his chest. He’s going to do it. He’s going to propose…

“Yeah…” He lets out an awkward laugh. You get to his car, and he opens the passenger door for you. You kiss his cheek, muttering a thank you before getting into his car. He takes a deep breath as he shuts the car door, muttering, “Tonight is going to be unforgettable.”

“Woah… This place is…” You’re sitting across from Toji, holding the menu in your hands and staring at the high prices. Toji has never taken you to a place this expensive before, and it makes you wonder what he has up his sleeve. “Nice.” 

“Yeah, I want tonight to be spec– Nice.” He corrects himself before he gives it away. And then it hits you. Perhaps you should’ve known the moment he took you to a place where there is valet parking, but what matters is that now you know.

You thought it was next month, but apparently it’s tonight since Toji is going above and beyond. Your second year anniversary with Toji. Many questions pop into your head as you try to figure out how you’ve forgotten this very special night… And how did Toji even remember?

“Happy anniversary.” You smile, trying to play it off. It totally hadn’t slipped your mind. Toji looks puzzled as if he’s trying to figure something out. Your mind lands on his gift. A non-existent gift that you very obviously do not carry with you. You decide to lie, “I do have a gift for you, but it’s back at my place.”

“Happy anniversary.” He’s forcing himself to smile. He forgot that? How did he forget it? He had it marked on his calendar but guesses with being in a rush about a proposal and whatnot made it slip his mind. “I do have a gift for you as well.”

“What is it?” Your interest is piqued, and you really don’t want to wait till later to find out. You’re not as patient as you claim to be.

“What’s your gift?” Toji responds, and you roll your eyes. You haven’t figured it out yet, therefore you can’t give him a response.

“Fine, leave me guessing.” There’s a hint of attitude in your tone, something that Toji doesn’t care enough to fix. He has bigger issues right now. “What can I order? I know you’re not made of money.”

“That’s kind of rude.” Toji points out, holding back on laughing. You aren’t wrong though, but tonight is special. He wouldn’t take you to a place he couldn’t afford. “I brought you here because I can afford it. Order the whole menu if you want.”

“Really?” You raise a brow his way, and Toji clicks his tongue. He puts his hands up defensively before saying,

“You got me. Don’t order the whole menu, I don’t have that kind of money.” He laughs, and you chuckle. 

“Thank you for bringing me here, dear. This is a very lovely place.” You reach over, and take his hands into yours. You feel just how sweaty his palms are, and you wonder why. It’s definitely not hot for him to be sweaty. “Toji, are you nervous?”

“Why would I– You know, I think we should celebrate.” Toji has to do it now, he might die if he waits till dessert. He’ll call over the waiter, and proceed with the plan that he had. He got the idea from some article on the internet, putting the ring in your drink and whatever follows. It’s not particularly romantic but for Toji it’s perfect. Toji’s charming, not romantic.

“Celebrate?” You question before remembering your anniversary. You feel bad for forgetting when he’s clearly put effort into tonight. You can fake it though. “Of course, let’s celebrate.”

Toji flags down the waiter, telling him to bring out champagne. Toji doesn’t drink, but tonight he'll make an exception. You also know he doesn’t drink, which makes you suspicious. Tonight is not an ordinary night.

“Two years already, huh? When are you proposing?” You tease him, and he nearly chokes on his own saliva. His eyes are wide and you feel the need to clarify. “I’m joking, babe. You don’t have to react like that.”

“React like what? I’m fine.” He says, and you’re having a hard time believing him. He’s nervous about something, it’s written all over his face. “You have to stop reading into things.”

“I’m not.” You respond, knowing that there’s something up with Toji. A man that’s usually stoic looks almost nervous. You won’t push him to give you an answer though, that surely won’t work with Toji.

“Finally.” Toji’s eyes glimmer at the sight of the glasses on the table. He takes a deep breath, preparing himself to speak. To give the small speech that he wrote down with Megumi’s crayon. A small speech that he lost because Megumi poured a glass of water on it– But it’s fine, he memorized it. 

“Cheers.” You grab the glass in front of you, and clink it with Toji’s. You furrow your brows, noticing that the liquid in Toji’s is shaking. He’s shaking. “Toji, are you okay? Are you cold?”

“They keep the place chilly.” He tries to laugh it off. He’s giving it away. Though he says it’s chilly, he’s sweating. But before you can question it, Toji chugs down his drink. There’s something wrong with him. He prompts you to drink as well, “It’s gonna get warm.”

“I’m not in a rush.” You look at him inquisitively. You love Toji, and you’ve gotten to know him pretty well. But you can’t know what’s going through his mind by merely looking at him. You grab your drink slowly, and bring the glass to your lips before taking a long sip of the champagne. Drinking from a glass has never been as awkward as it is now, feeling Toji’s eyes watching your every move.

“Toji, this is the last time I ask, what the fuck is up with you?” You ask, getting frustrated with him. He’s acting odd, and you wonder if you did something wrong. 

“Look at the bottom of the glass.” He instructs you and you frown, grabbing the glass and inspecting the bottom of it. There’s nothing. Perhaps it’s because there’s some liquid, but apart from bubbles you spot nothing. 

“What?” You question, and Toji loosens his tie. “Did you see something weird?”

“Is there nothing at the bottom?” Toji asks, and he almost loses his shit when you shake your head. His eyes are wider than you’ve ever seen, and suddenly the man stands up from his chair. He bites down his tongue before saying one simple word, “Bathroom.”

Before you can utter a word, Toji’s gone. What an odd man he is tonight.

Toji looks around the place, trying to find the dumb waiter that he tasked this with. The instructions are very clear, how could he mess that up? Toji’s eyes land on the waiter, and the poor man begins to tremble when he sees Toji’s terrifying glare. A predator has spotted its prey, and the prey is too slow to run away.

Toji grabs the waiter by his collar, dragging him from the kitchen to the back of the restaurant in a matter of seconds. Toji is pinning this twenty-something-year-old against the wall, making the poor man almost cry out to his mommy. Toji feels like he’s doing some shady business again.

“Where the fuck is that ring, boy? You know how much that cost me?! I’ll sell your intestines to make you pay.” Toji threatens; a threat that holds no weight, but sounds so natural as it rolls off Toji’s tongue. 

“I-I don’t know, s-sir. I promise I put it in.” The waiter stumbles over his words, absolutely terrified of Toji. It’s a scary scene, specifically with how ravenous Toji looks. Toji’s hungry for blood, and he’s staring at the perfect target. 

“Where the fuck is it? That damn ring cost me an arm and a leg.” Toji’s anger couldn’t be more clear than now. It’s absolutely terrifying for any bystander, and of course, the poor man that is pinned against the wall. 

“Whose?” The young man is closing his eyes, scared that these moments might be his last. The grip on the collar tightens, Toji getting angrier by the second.

“You want to joke around with me? Is this funny to you?” Toji spits out, and the poor boy frantically shakes his head. Toji finally let’s go, letting out an annoyed sigh. “Get me your fucking manager.”

“Yessir.” The young man responds, body nearly falling to the ground as he struggles to find balance. At least Toji let him go. He’s alive, and he should be grateful.

“That took you long enough.” You chuckle, watching as Toji sits across from you once again. You want to ask if the reason why he was acting weird was because of a stomach bug, but Toji looks mad. 

“Must’ve eaten something bad.” Toji mutters, as if upset. Though you understand having a stomach bug is not enjoyable, you don’t particularly understand why he looks mad. 

“Do we have to go? Our celebration can wait.” You reassure him, but Toji shakes his head. He sighs. 

“We have to celebrate our anniversary.” He responds, but you don’t want him to put his well being at risk to celebrate the date. Your celebration can wait until he gets better. Your hands reach over to grab his own, giving them a squeeze.

“I don’t want you to sit through a celebration while you’re feeling ill.” You watch him avert his gaze. You know he’s upset about this, and you think of how to make him feel better. You chuckle before confessing, “I forgot about our anniversary… I thought this was just going to be one of our usual dates but here you go, going above and beyond. So don’t feel bad if you want to cancel all of our plans, and call it a night. We can just go home, and I’ll make you tea to help your upset stomach.”

“I guess…” Toji is a fool. Putting a ring that expensive in a glass of champagne? For you? That man should’ve carved out your name on a mountain and asked you to marry him at the bare minimum. This place– The proposal and the restaurant is too trashy for what you deserve.

“I have to talk to the manager, will you give me a second?” Toji asks, and you furrow your brows. Was the incident in the bathroom that bad? You won’t question it. You don’t want to embarrass the man. 

Toji comes back within five minutes, extending his hand for you to take. Without a doubt, you take it and leave with him. You’ll go anywhere that Toji wants to take you.

“You know–” You begin before shoving a fry into your mouth. Toji decided to take you to eat fast food before going home. Though he’s supposed to be sick, you’re both eating fast food in his car. Luckily he’s parked outside of the place, so in case an emergency does come up, he can run inside. “I’m surprised you remembered our anniversary but I didn’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Toji questions, reaching over and taking one of your fries since he already ate all of his. He eats fast– One thing about Toji, he’ll make sure he doesn’t have to share. You glare at his hand, and almost slap it away.

“That I’m the one that’s usually great at remembering dates.” You answer, and Toji tries to recall today’s date. Tonight he just got extremely lucky… In that sense at least. He’s calling it quits on tonight’s plan. He’ll perfect the proposal over the coming weeks. “But you know what they say: a broken clock is right twice a day.”

“Did you just compare me to a broken block?” He’s slightly offended by the question, but the glimmer of mischief in your eyes makes him chuckle. As revenge, he reaches over and takes a couple more of your fries.

“Hey! Stop eating all of my food!” You scold him, and he fights back a smirk. He puts on a show of eating your food in front of you, showing off that he’s taken your fries and you can’t do anything about it. “You shouldn’t even be eating this with your stomach.”

“My stomach is fine.” He assures you, but you can’t take him seriously. Toji could be dying on a hospital bed, and he’d still reassure you that he’s completely fine. With how long it took him to come back from the bathroom, you doubt he’s okay.

“Are you sure? Because–”

“What do you think about getting married?” Toji cuts you off, not wanting to talk about an upset stomach or his shitting habits. You can’t help but giggle at the way he changes the conversation, especially from something so ridiculous to a serious matter.

“Why? Are you proposing?” You tease, and Toji rolls his eyes at your reaction. You chuckle before answering truthfully, “I’d love to get married to you someday. Anywhere, any time.”

“Good, because you’re stuck with me for life.” Toji tries to joke, but it sounds very serious. He’s joking but at the same time he isn't. Not that you mind being stuck with him for life.

“Hmm… How about we go to the courthouse tomorrow and get married?” You propose and Toji begins to choke on the fry that he stole from you. He quickly grabs the soda and drinks like a wild man, while hitting his chest. You’re worried for a millisecond before you burst out laughing.

Toji coughs up his fry while the sound of your laughter fills up the car. Your hand goes to his back, caressing it as he calms down.

“Glad– That my– Near death experience is funny to you.” He’s still coughing. When he calms down, he’s glaring at you. A glare that many find intimidating. But you find it amusing, knowing Toji isn’t going to do anything.

“Could you imagine? Death by fry? I can’t decide if that’s an amazing or a pathetic way to go.” You say, and Toji rolls his eyes again.

“Fine, let’s go to the courthouse tomorrow and get married.” Toji agrees. It definitely takes the weight of proposing off his shoulders. 

You shake your head. “I was joking.”

“Like hell you were. I know how you women are. You’re joking, but you’re actually dropping hints.” He does air quotes, and you glare at him. The difference between you glaring at him, and him glaring at you is that he actually feels a twinge of fear when you look at him badly. He begins to laugh, putting his hands up defensively, “I was just messing around.”

“Like hell you were, punk.” You sound so serious that it scares him. Before he can even defend himself, your hand goes to his bicep and you proceed to lightly pinch him. He cries in pain, and you let go before leaning over to kiss the same spot. 

You proceed to apologize in a high pitched voice, “Sowwy for hurting you, baby.”

“Okay, say it again but in a normal voice.” Toji replies, and you roll your eyes.

“I’m only apologizing with the baby voice. Take it or leave it.” You cross your arms, acting as if you have the upper hand in this situation.

“Leave it. I have enough with Megumi.” Toji responds, making you click your tongue.

“Are we picking up the little guy before going home?” You ask, and Toji hums in response. He almost forgot that his offspring is with your best friend for the night. 

“Yeah. He’ll kill me if we don’t.”

You hum along to the tune of one of your favorite songs as Toji drives back to Gojo’s place. You tried to joke around with Toji some more, but after the drive started, he stopped paying attention. He looks pensive, and you wonder if it’s the same thoughts that were affecting him earlier.

“Oh, look, it’s raining.” You point out as if Toji hadn’t turned on the windshield wipers. You just want Toji to say something, but he’s suddenly gone mute.

Toji’s thoughts are about Megumi. The little cockblocker is going to spoil his plan. Megumi has kept his mouth shut for a whole week after finding out the plan, Toji knows the little guy isn’t going to hold it for much longer. 

“Are you hot?” You ask as Toji lowers the air conditioning. He takes off his suit jacket at the red light, unable to contain the heat. It’s pretty cold out, but he’s acting a little odd tonight.

Before you know it, you’re outside of Satoru’s apartment complex. Your hand goes to the door handle, but before you open it, Toji speaks up, “Stay here. It’s raining.”

“I want to say hi to my little guy.” You say, but Toji shakes his head. He’ll refuse to let you out of the car.

“You’re sleeping over tonight anyway. I can’t protect both of you from the rain, and the last thing I need is you both being whiny babies because of a cold.” Toji responds, and you pout. Toji will let you figure out your own feelings while he goes to pick up Megumi. 

“Stupid Toji.” You mutter when the car door shuts. At least he’s doing this to keep you well, but you can’t help but think this has something to do with his weird behavior. You begin to mock him, “You’re sleeping over anyway. Dumbass.”

You begin to turn up the temperature, freezing with the air conditioning on. But you feel a twinge of remorse while you do it, knowing that he’s going to be hot when he gets to the car. You turn the air conditioning down again, opting to take his jacket instead. 

You put it on, and begin to feel his pockets. Maybe you’ll find some change… It’s not like Toji is going to notice a few coins missing. What’s his is yours, and what’s yours is yours. However the saying goes. A smirk comes to your lips when you feel something cold, “Bingo.”

“Huh?” Your expression quickly changes, your eyes becoming wide when you see that it’s not a coin. It’s something much more expensive. Something that answers everything. Why he took you to an expensive restaurant, why he was acting so weird, why he suddenly remembered your anniversary (though it hits you that it’s not the date, you assumed wrong).

You stare at it for what feels like forever. It looks like it’ll fit perfectly. You exit the car, not caring that it is drizzling out. You can withstand some water, what you can’t stand is sitting in the car alone with your own thoughts for another second. He’s coming out of the building, holding an umbrella over Megumi’s head. 

“What are you doing out?!” Toji yells when he sees you outside of the car, wearing his jacket. He frowns, until he sees you hold something up. He doesn’t have to squint to see what it is, and he begins to freak out immediately. “Snoopy! Why were you going through that?!”

“Megumi, get in the car.” Toji hands the umbrella to the child, a task that Megumi is happy to take over. Toji walks over to you, attempting to snatch the ring out of your hands.

“What is this?” You ask, and Toji refuses to answer, focusing on getting the ring from your hands but you begin to move around. You can’t help but giggle as you watch a very frustrated Toji try to take a ring from you. “You won’t get it back until you answer.”

“Then…” Toji restrains you, grabbing both of your wrists. It’s an awkward position, one arm over your head while you hold the other in front of you. “We won’t move.”

“So much for not getting me sick.” You mention, and you know that he fights back a smile. You look into his eyes, seeing the uncertainty that consumes them. Toji was hoping tonight he’d have the perfect proposal, and when he realized that everything was going south, he backed out. Your heart melts at the thought of your big intimidating boyfriend getting worried because of this. 

“Will you give it back?” He’s talking to you as if you were Megumi. 

“I do–” You begin. “I’ll hold that for the ceremony.”

“Huh?” Toji lets go of your wrists, and you proceed to place the ring in the palm of his hand. You kiss the tip of his nose before pressing your forehead against his. Toji laughs, relief washing over him. “I didn’t even ask the question.”

“What are you waiting for?” You ask, and Toji pulls away. 

He gets on one knee on the wet asphalt, holding the ring that nearly cost him his intestines, with the most genuine smile on his face. His eyes are brimming with love. He had a long sappy speech that he copied off the internet. Something overly romantic. Something disingenuous to his character.

“Will you marry me?” 

“Yes.” You nod excitedly, and Toji slips the ring on your finger before getting up from the ground and picking you up. He kisses you once. Then again. And again, and again. 

“Eugh!” You both hear that makes the kissing stop. Megumi is waiting for you two to finish to properly greet you– One thing you notice, the umbrella is gone.

Toji sighs. Great, everyone is going to be sick for at least a week.

At least he’s getting married soon.

[hellishjoel]

cherry thrill | lights

9.2k / pairing: daddy dom tattoo artist!joel miller x sub virgin f!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | notifications blog | ko-fi chapter summary: your tattoo artist, joel miller, takes your virginity. chapter warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, implied age gap, swearing, virginity loss, dom&sub dynamics (/not lg), size kink, praise kink, degradation kink, daddy kink, innocence kink, corruption kink, swearing, dirty talk, pet names (princess, bunny, baby girl, sweetheart, etc.), oral (m&f receiving), fingering, protected p in v, joel talks you through it, protective!joel, slight pov switching, reader is described as having no tattoos or piercings, as well as hair, but otherwise no physical description, no use of y/n series summary: Trust and devotion. Ink meets innocence. Your tattoo artist, Joel Miller, shows you what it really means to give up control. Reeling from the loss of your job, you’re running out of options, until a passing comment from Joel and a video camera give you just the right idea. A/N: this was supposed to be a one shot but just like everything else I try to write, I expand on the characters too much for it not to become a series. also, thank you for 2,000 followers, I promise to do something soon to show my appreciation <3 I'm bad at giving thanks and receiving attention so anyway - dividers by @firefly-graphics (thank you, daisy!)

During your first consultation, there was something in the air. 

Glances that lasted a few seconds too long, a charged energy replicating that of two strong magnets.  You stand frozen in a dark office down the hall from the shop’s main entrance. The walls are painted black. A gallery wall displays different art and posters in gold frames. There’s a large red neon sign with your tattoo artist’s initials, J.M. 

Joel Miller. 

You sit opposite of him, leg anxiously bouncing and nails subconsciously piercing the chair’s leather arms as he listens silently to your request before his mind starts to work. It doesn’t take much time to draw up an example or two with your guided tweaks and fixes. 

Other than the scribble of a graphite pencil, silence falls over you both. And observation takes over. 

Joel surrounds himself with scattered drawings on loose paper that litter his desk. You watch the way his eyes screw inward to focus on the sketch he is drawing up. A small vein protrudes from his temple, his jaw shifts from side to side with tension. 

He’s a blunt sort of handsome. With harsh edges and lines, jaded and carved with precision like precious marble. It makes your pulse jump a bit in your neck and wrist. 

You think your first tattoo should be something special, especially since you’ve waited so long to pull the trigger. He was a bit intimidating like you imagined a tattoo artist to be, what with his brooding demeanor and how he looked you up and down upon taking one step inside his parlor. 

Virgin. 

That’s what he called your skin, untouched by any ink or piercings. 

He didn’t know that it described you down to your core. No one had popped your cherry, taken your virginity, made you theirs. Untouched.

Now, half an hour later and sitting anxiously in his back office, he finishes drawing up the sketch and asks about the precise placement you had in mind. 

“I was thinking here,” you mindlessly point to a spot on your upper thigh. There was a level of secrecy to it, in case any future employers cared about that sort of shit. 

You can’t help the way your skin vibrates under his touch, when he aids you in taking off your bottoms and runs his calloused palms up the smooth skin of your thighs. 

You shakily exhale as he warms you. 

You definitely don’t let yourself fantasize that he’s feeling you up, or even think about wanting him to explore every inch of your body. You know he’s just doing his job. 

But the way his eyes flick up to yours when he feels the goosebumps he knows he’s created is otherworldly. Like he knows you want him to fuck you. The way your muscles twitch under the warmth of his palm, feeling pliant under his touch. Fuck. 

His eyes gleam as his mouth forms into a barely-there smirk. 

There was no point in playing coy. Your body changed at the contact and Joel knew it. 

It was damn near degrading the way he let you simmer. It set a light inside of you no one had before. So that’s when you knew you’d let him, Joel Miller, take your virginity. 

It would be no easy task. You didn’t know how to pursue him, or anyone for that matter. Maybe if you did, you wouldn’t have said virginity. 

You try not to stare for too long, but even with his gruff demeanor and silence being second nature to him, he was handsome. A rugged sort of handsome with different facial piercings. 

A septum in his nose highlighted its aquiline structure. And a small hoop in his right eyebrow, with greys tickling through like pretty streaks in the hair. It made him look deliciously too old for you. Perhaps that’s what you enjoyed most, though. He was no amateur. 

The moment his fingers dipped into your flesh to work on your tattoo's placement, you knew he felt it, too. Supple under his touch. Squishy. Something he could sink his teeth into. Something that obeyed. 

“You prepared for the pain, sweetheart?”

His southern drawl is sweet like honey, deep and husky nonetheless. 

“I think so.” 

Your response is meek. It’s your wavering nerves from having him so close and unsure what the feeling of being tattooed will be like. Joel looks for certainty instead. He insists on it. 

“Need ya t’tell me. Not that you think, that you know.”

“I’m sorry. I know so.”

Joel squeezes the back of your thigh fondly, a proud little smile twitching at the edges of his mouth. “Good girl.”

The praise alone was enough to make your thighs sticky with arousal. Joel sent you home that day with an ache between your legs that your fingers had to fix. And you thought about him the entire time. 

How his cold tongue piercing would feel against the warmth of your clit. Holding you with his strong, protective arms swirled with black ink. How his staggering dark eyes would look into yours as he fucks you. 

But thinking about him wasn’t enough. 

You tried to string out the process, anything you could do to fix more time with him. Anything to get his tough palms on your skin. 

You fiddled with different placements, opting to show a little skin as you rid yourself of your top and pointed to your ribs during your next appointment. 

A breath hitches in your throat as he eyes your bra's innocent pink color. Lacy and pretty. Delicate. He clears his throat and runs his fingers along your side, evidence of his touch causing an effect on you displayed with more goosebumps. Your body could simply not hide the attraction you felt towards him. 

“Would hurt. A lot. The ribs move every time you breathe, which makes the tattooing process more painful.” Joel gently cups your side with his large palm and squeezes your ribs, holding you in place as you shakily breathe with the hold he has on you. “Can’t tell ya where to place it, can only advise. Just don’t want such a pretty girl to shed any tears.” 

That’s when you knew you could trust him. That even a man as hardened as himself could treat you with such care. 

He excuses himself for a moment, opting for more transfer paper and leaving you topless in his private office. 

Your ears were ringing, you could hear the quickening beat of your heart. You slowly inch off the portable tattoo table, glancing around Joel’s dark academia-style office. 

He’s an enigma, you think, the more you look at his surroundings. Quiet but dark, you knew he was concealing a hidden desire. You hope to unlock it. That he’ll trust you enough just as you trust him. 

Articles of clothing start to drop to the floor, one by one. You knew you’d be ambushing him; you didn’t want to scare Joel. So you left yourself in your soft pink-colored bra and panty set. You thought it was classy and cute. Not too forward, but sweet. Definitely planned out, you hope he doesn’t notice. 

All your confidence quickly disappears as soon as he comes back in through the door. You could feel your heart slowly sink to your stomach, your lips parting to come up with some sort of reasoning. 

“I-I’m sorry,” is all you can think to say. Joel is stilled at the entrance of his office, door still ajar as he blankly stares at the delicate angel standing in the middle of his office. 

He clears his throat and finally closes the door, leaving the two of you in silence. You can’t read his expression. 

“What do ya think you’re doin’?” He asks, sweet southern drawl dripping with tension as his heavy boots slowly make their way closer to you. 

You can only shake your head, unsteady hands concealing as much of your body as possible. You decide to face the mirror, keeping your back to him. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Miller, I was just-” Lie. “I was just looking at your full-length mirror to see other placement ideas.” 

Joel merely shakes his head, a knowing look in his eyes. “I can tell when you’re lyin’ t’me, baby girl. You wanna try tellin’ me the truth now?”

His tone only makes the ache in your core grow with desire as your pulse quickens under his eyeline. 

You feel embarrassed, heat coursing through your body and making you tingle as his stare lingers selfishly, basking in the glory of your figure. You watch with want in the reflection as his eyes stare at the curves of your hips and your ass. A handful, he probably thinks. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” he coaxes, moving closer and enveloping you in his musky pine and whiskey scent. It’s almost knowing what he says next. “Tell me what y’want.” 

You swallow the lump protruding in your throat before you decide to be honest with him. Like you said, you could trust him. You play with your fingers and pick at the skin by your nails.

“I want you.” You say barely above a whisper. 

Joel simply shakes his head, takes another impossible step closer, and cranes his head down to hear you better. His lips and coarse beard hairs tickle at the shell of your ear. 

Your eyes close shyly as he speaks again amid your silence. 

“Say it again, baby. Can’t hear ya.” His toned front meets your back, forcing a whimper past your lips. 

You work up the nerve to take a glance at the two figures in the gold-framed mirror. Perfect opposites. Young, beautiful, a little inexperienced. Older, handsome, sure as hell looks like he knows what he’s doing. 

His height looms over you. His eyes are an unknown shade of obsidian and he’s radiating a comforting warmth. Your hand reaches for his, only able to look him in the eyes through the glass as you guide his hand to your hip. 

Your thumb rolls across the faded tattoo on the backside of his hand. There used to be a cross there, but it looks to be covered up by some sort of python now. With a shaky sigh, you try again. “I want you, Mr. Miller. I want you to take my virginity.” 

You’ve prepared yourself to hear his laughter, a snickering, degrading comment of disbelief. You felt ready to experience shame. But you were wrong. 

Joel places his pointer finger under your chin, using his other hand to guide you in his hold to turn and face him. His thumb grazes over your lower lip as he guides your head to tilt up and look at him properly. Your soft eyes meet his lust-driven ones and your heart surges at the sight. 

You’ve never seen a man so hungry. 

“You want me to take your virginity, little bunny?” He hums seductively. Suddenly, you don’t feel so doomed. It’s placed with a little bit of eagerness now. You wanted your spoils. 

“Yes. Want you to do whatever you desire with me, I’ll do anything you want.” You sound like a devoted cult member, but the energy you feel is undeniable. You’re sure you’ve soaked through your panties at this point. 

Slowly but surely, Joel begins to nod. He’s mulled it over and he’s made up his mind. 

“Whatever I desire, huh?” He tuts almost degradingly. Your nod of enthusiasm makes his blood rush. 

He hesitates, untrusting of his own words. 

“Want you to call me Daddy,” He starts haphazardly, gauging your reaction. “Think you can do that, sweet girl?”

Your wide eyes soften, a notch of confusion knotting your eyebrows. 

“You- what?” 

“Want you to call me daddy. Want you to be a good little girl for me and hop up on that desk. Can ya do that for me, princess?” His chin juts up and signals toward his office desk. 

The swirling in your stomach just won’t stop. 

“Go on now.” His orotund voice projects his instructions. You back up a few paces until you feel the cool metal of his desk hit your backside, slowly moving to sit on it with hidden excitement and a shiver up your spine. 

You do want to be good, if there’s anything you want in this world right now, it’s to play along and be good for him. Knowing he would take care of you was making you leak. 

His fingertips delicately touch your skin, starting at your wrists and moving upwards to the straps on your bra. He’s intimidating to look at, so you fixate on something behind him. But it doesn’t help when he clouds your vision. Even his aroma, from the smoke of his cigarettes to the musky spruce cologne, was putting you in a tailspin. 

You don’t anticipate the way your body moves for him. His hands skim to the back of your bra, and your spine straightens. It makes the right side of his mouth twitch up into a smirk. 

“Nervous?” He belittles.

Your long lashes innocently flutter, you think you might be doing it on purpose. You sort of like playing along. 

“A little… Daddy.” You test cautiously, the word tangling on your tongue. But it’s unforgettable the way his eyes light up at the name. You find yourself already willing to do whatever it takes to recreate that signature look of his. 

Joel hums appreciatively, thumb making minuscule circles over your chin. “I’ll take care of ya. Ya know that. Or else you wouldn’t have chosen me.”

All you can do is nod. Because he knows that your selection process was a real thing. You had danced around it once during your first consultation when he asked if you had a boyfriend. All you could feel was heat rising to the back of your neck, shy eyes evading his warm brown orbs. 

“No, definitely not.” 

“What’d’ya mean definitely not? You’re a pretty girl.”  

You shrug in a noncommittal way. “I’ve never had to really worry about stuff like… boyfriends. Or girlfriends. Any of that sort of stuff.” 

His eyes flicked up to yours in an instant, a mutual understanding of your underlying words. “I see. I understand, angel.” 

Joel works your bra off with one hand, you gasp as you feel the material loosen around your body. His opposite hand taps at the top of your thigh. You’re all too aware you are eagerly sitting half-naked on his desk. 

“Open.” He directs, voice laced with smoke. 

You nip at your lower lip and slowly inch your clamped-shut thighs open for him. He instantly makes eye contact with the wet, dark little circle that’s ruining the pristine innocence of your panties. 

He decides not to make fun of it, but it’s truly a compliment. Your adoration for him. “This all for me, angel?”

You work up a few quick nods. Now that he was so close, you wanted him to hurry the hell up.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” 

You feel heat tingle at the sides of your neck. This would be your first time really talking like this with someone. He made it feel safe to talk so dirty. To try, to learn. 

“Yes, daddy.”

You can’t deny how proud you feel to be the reason a certain warmth brightens in his eyes and on his smirk. You did that, you pleased him. Little did you know how he’d thank you for it. 

“You said you’re a virgin? Hard to believe.”

A shaky sigh leaves your parted lips as his warm palms slowly pull your bra down, revealing your breasts to him. “Just never found anyone I really trusted or liked enough.” 

He mutters something quiet in understanding, all too distracted by how damn pretty you look. 

Joel is silently observing your body, he can’t help but want to touch the delicate flower in front of him. A gasp leaves your parted lips as his calloused hands come up and cup your breasts. He starts to squeeze, and a happy little whimper leaves your mouth with a small smile. 

“I like that.” You tell him, hoping it improves your chances that he’ll do it again. Which he does. 

“Good.” He compliments, pinching your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, turning them into peaks that send electricity down your spine. 

A sweet and experimental moan leaves your lips. Joel stands between your parted legs and you feel his erection for the first time against your skin. You can tell by the shape protruding through his pants that he’s a large man, already thick and swollen for your taking. 

“No one’s ever been inside of you?” He damn near growls, raising an eyebrow after the beat he offers you to answer.  

You shake your head again. “I’ve tried my fingers, but I’m sure it’s not the same.” 

A scoffy little breath echoes out of his nose. “No, not quite. Lay back for me, bunny.” His hands release your breasts, pebbled nipples left abandoned as you slowly move down onto your elbows and then onto your back. 

There was a sudden peak of anxiety, not being able to fully see him. But perhaps this was the point, to fully surrender yourself under his touch. To trust him. 

His rough hands grip the sides of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. He gets about halfway down your thighs before you quickly sit up on your elbows again. 

“Joel?” Your voice anxiously chirps. 

He stops, eyes flicking up to you from your cunt still concealed by your sticky thighs. 

“We can stop,” He says before you can explain. “S’okay if you’re not ready.”

“No, no, that’s not it, God, that’s not it,” You rid his worries, feeling your chest quickly rise and fall under his all of a sudden protective gaze. 

“I uh-... I know you don’t owe me this, we’re not together, but… can you talk me through what you’re doing? I want to learn, and I can tell you’re experienced, I know it’s a lot to ask but-”

“S’not too much to ask.” He quickly intervenes, gently taking your hands and guiding you to sit up fully once more. Your soft eyes graze over all the layers he’s still wearing, and suddenly you’re reminded how naked you are. 

“Use your voice, sweet girl. Can tell you wanna say somethin’. This is your time.” 

The sentiment means a lot. It is your time, your first time, and just because you’re an adult doesn’t mean it should be any less special. So you decide to make it your time, the way you want it. 

“Can you take your clothes off too? And is the door locked?” You trail off upon seeing his amused smirk. 

“Go on.” He nods again, letting you list your needs and wants. 

“And can you kiss me, please, Daddy?” You ask more softly than the rest of your demands. You know that kissing is romantic, but you think it might help settle you. Pull you back from drifting away, keep you here with him.  

He watches you for a moment, a bemused grin on his lips before he gently cradles your face. “The door’s locked. I’ll take my clothes off. And I’ll kiss you as many times as you like as long as you keep askin’ that nice.” 

For the first time during your interaction, your face lights up with a smile. It’s small, it’s thankful, but it’s there. There was an undeniable connection you shared with Joel, it made you feel safe under his curious eyes. 

With his large hands cupping either side of your jaw, he leans down while simultaneously guiding your chin up as your lips meet. It’s gentle at first, soft. His mouth tastes like a cigarette, it’s oddly intoxicating and you find yourself wanting more.

You know how to make out at the very least. So when you gently bite down and tug on Joel’s lower lip, both of your eyes open as a throaty little groan escapes him. 

He kisses you a little harder this time, hands falling to your hips as he pulls you closer so your fronts align. The force makes your lips part and Joel takes the opportunity to let his tongue invade your mouth. He moves fluently to explore, both of you falling into a sweet lull as your bodies meld into one. 

Inadvertently, he hooks his pointer finger into your panties halfway down your thighs and finishes pulling them to your ankles. They land somewhere on the floor in a pile of your other clothes. 

Unbeknownst to you until he took his hands off your body to pluck open his belt do you realize how you were on fire for him. 

You wonder while he pushes down his trousers and tugs off his shirt if he’s ever slept with a virgin before. If you’d be his version of a first time just like he’d be yours. No, not his first ever, you weren’t that foolish. But maybe you could teach him a thing or two as well. 

There’s no way to mask your surprise when he pushes down his boxer briefs, the dark band revealing all that was underneath. His half-hard cock raises towards his stomach, rosiness fluttering at his tip. You were pleasantly surprised to find that it was a little hooked, deliciously curving upwards. 

With a new sense of confidence, your hand reaches forward and you start to shift your hand up and down his length. Joel’s quiet grunt shatters your thoughts. He gently cups the side of your neck and twirls a piece of hair around his finger. 

Joel takes your hand off his cock and you worry you’ve done something wrong already. He holds it palm-side up and nods encouragingly. “Spit on your hand, baby.”

He nods after you look up at him with shy, blown-out eyes. But you obey. 

You spit into your hand and let him guide your hand back around his member. That seems a lot better. He glistens with your spit and you have the urge to keep shocking him with your confidence.

You lean forward and directly spit onto his tip, looking up to see his approving little smirk. 

“Fuck- That’s- mmm, that’s good, angel,” he sighs with a certain happiness, loving the feeling of getting his cock taken care of. “Feels real good.” 

The praise sets off a million pistons in your brain, feeling yourself scrabble off the desk,  dropping to your knees as you continue to pump him. 

He’s heavy in your hand, and you gently lean forward to give sweet kisses to the tip. You swallow the lump in your throat before parting your lips, taking the head of his cock into your mouth. He’s salty, musky, but not dirty. In fact, he was rather well-kempt in his nether regions. 

You force yourself deeper and Joel already has his hands in your hair to pause you. 

“Woah, slow your roll, pretty girl.” He says with shortened breaths. Heat floods your body, you hate being so new to this. 

Joel continues to stroke your hair back, gently gliding a thumb up your cheekbone before he cradles one side of your face. “I see you gettin’ all shy, I know this is your first time, but I’ll teach you the basics. And no one’s perfect on their first try, okay? So just get that thought outta your head now.”

Your chest swells at his eagerness to relax you, so you nod gently and lean in to kiss the base of his stomach in appreciation. The right side of his mouth tilts up as he swipes his thumb across your plump bottom lip, a silent thank you for the kiss. 

“You’re a real good girl, you know that?” A bigger smile breaks across your lips and you eagerly tug on his cock with eagerness. Joel sighs, already in defeat at how you’re willing to get it right for him, to learn, to listen. To obey. 

“You’re gonna wanna relax your jaw,” his fingers guide you, your lips parting and letting your jaw drop lower, lower, lower for him. “And the whole part is to suck, not just put your mouth on it, okay, peaches? So hollow your cheeks, no teeth, and only go as far as you feel comfortable.” 

You shake off your nerves and clear your throat, feeling your mouth fill with spit intended for him. You place your hands on the back of his thighs, feeling the dark hairs under the pads of your fingers. 

Slowly, you wrap your mouth around his tip once more. You swirl your tongue around him, adoring the way he hisses when you glide your tongue across the slit leaking a salty substance. 

Over the introduction, you try to take him down your throat properly. And he’s a mouthful, literally. He’s a lot. But you try to just enjoy that there’s no real pressure. 

A lot of saliva starts to build in your mouth, and you swallow it around him. You’re awestruck when he lets out a low moan, strong hands weaving through your hair and lightly tugging. Your eyes flutter up to him through your lashes, and he’s looking at you so deliciously. 

You can tell he wants to fuck your mouth, holding his hips back from really letting you have it. And maybe he could do that to you someday, but for now, today was slow. And Joel knew that too. 

Joel gently tucks your hair back, your lips suctioning around his length before he drags you back towards him, indicating for you to start moving, to bob your head. 

It takes a few tries, but you really feel yourself going further down his cock. You breathe through your nose, but it’s hard when you’re trying not to gag around him. Finally, after little to no error, you slip up. His tip unexpectedly hits the back of your throat and you gag around him.  Joel must feel your whole body tense with anxiety because he’s quick to gently hush and console you. Your eyes well up with tears, but your first instinct is to keep him inside your mouth and swallow around him. 

A long, low groan leaves Joel’s mouth, a compliment to your first big challenge. 

“Holy fuck,” he pants, weaving his fingers into your hair and fisting eagerly to keep himself grounded. “You’re doin’ so fuckin’ well, princess, you have no idea, fuck,” he grins. “Try using your hands on what you can’t take, come on, baby.” 

You can feel yourself physically gush at his compliments, your stomach swirling with a newfound desperation. To please. 

With new instructions, you work your hand at his base and pump up and down with the rhythm of your mouth. You worked on gently squeezing and releasing your hand, making Joel go slack-jawed as a husky groan leaves the back of his throat. Sucking and licking and bobbing your head in earnest, he’s already twitching in your mouth. 

“You’ve done this before baby,” his voice drips with a smirk, pulling yourself off for some deep breaths and a few desperate swallows. 

“Haven’t, promise, Joel,” You coo with a proud little smile, your voice thick and wrecked as you continue to pump his cock in the absence of your mouth. 

Joel lets your hair go and guides your hand off his cock before helping you up from the floor. 

Your face is obviously written with disappointment, you could have continued. You sort of wanted to continue despite the ache hanging around in your jaw. 

“You were gonna make me come, don’t wanna come yet, angel,” Joel pants weakly, ducking down and connecting your lips. You’re a little taken aback. Not by the kiss, but by the fact you already had him nearly ready to finish. 

“Really?” You murmur hopefully against his mouth, wishing he wasn’t just saying it to compliment you. 

The way that his features started to twitch and his tummy and chest fluttered with his jagged breathing, it would have been quite a sight to see him finish. Maybe he would have even done it right on your tongue. The thought alone gives you goosebumps. 

Your insides swirl as he licks inside of your mouth and gently runs his tongue along your bottom lip, moving you back towards his desk. You hop up without his instruction, feeling him smirk against your pouted mouth. 

“Now you’re gettin’ a hang of things.” He murmurs into your mouth, carrying on where he had left off before, sinking down to his own knees at the edge of the desk and positioning your feet to rest up on the edge. He seems to stare at the glistening arousal you’ve been creating for the last hour straight. 

That nervous feeling settles in your stomach, completely bare and open for him. A shocked gasp leaves your mouth, not prepared for him already to be diving into your pussy. 

The breadth of his tongue slowly swipes up the center of your core, purposely flicking off of your clit and making you yelp at the contact. His cold tongue piercing against your sensitive bundle made a shiver shoot up your spine. 

He gently smirks as he places a sweet kiss on the inside of your thigh. “You’re jumpy, kitten. Take a breath. Wanna make you feel real good.” 

You let out a shaky sigh and move off your elbows, back flat on his desk as your eyes slowly drift close. Then, as he starts to truly taste you, learning you and what you like, it’s unexpected how much you enjoy it. It never really dawned on you that some people truly enjoy eating pussy, but Joel Miller sure does. 

Your broken little whimpers and strung-out moans turn into writhing on his desk under him. He was such an expert, meticulously swirling his tongue around you and suckling your clit into his mouth. 

It didn’t take long for your fingers to wind up into his hair as his shoulders lay bracketed between your thighs. It was heavy, it was stomach-twisting, in fact, it was rolling through you like a storm. The it in question was your first oral orgasm. 

“J-Joel,” you gasp, your jaw dropping down as he slowly prods the tip of his finger at your entrance. 

“Need to get you ready for my cock, sweet girl, keep focusing on how good you feel,” he encourages. Your face pinches as his finger slowly sinks into your entrance, but you realize how grateful you are for all the extra spit and arousal Joel has provided. 

It doesn’t necessarily hurt, it’s a weird ache at first. But then his finger starts to slowly pump inside of you, and it’s a new craving. Especially with the way his tongue moves around your clit, the pistons in his brain firing all to figure out what you like. 

Do you like when he flicks your clit with his cold metal piercing?

“Ohmygod-” you gasp. 

Do you like when he swirls his naughty tongue around you in tight figure eights? 

“Joel, please,” you say, needing more. 

Did you like it most when he suckles around your sweet bud?

“Joel!” You cry out, tugging tighter at his hair, not sure if you want to tug him closer for more or push him away because it feels too good. 

“O-Oh, oh my god.” Lying still was a foreign thing to you now, all you could do was wiggle and grip your fingers into his hair, tugging harshly as he grunted against your core in enjoyment. 

He actually likes pleasing you, he likes tasting you! It’s a compliment without words as your eyes dip close and your head digs back into the desk.

Suddenly, your stomach starts to drop like you’re on a rollercoaster. You’re not unfamiliar with the feeling of an orgasm, but this, oral, it hits differently. 

“Fuck,” you curse unexpectedly, making Joel cock up an eyebrow as he glances up at you. All you can do is watch as his mouth suckles harder around you, his finger pumping faster and adding a second. 

Because if there’s anyone in this world that can break you out of your shell, Joel wants it to be him. 

Now you’re really aching for him,  wishing that it was his cock slotted between your walls, pushing you towards euphoria. 

“Know you wanna come for me angel,” his fingers quirk upwards in a come here motion, and a long, strung-out moan of his name leaves your lips.

God forbid any of the shop’s workers or clients hear you, but you can’t think of a singular reason to care right now. 

Your walls flex and squeeze around Joel’s two fingers, truly feeling the stretch as you come around his digits. It leaves you a whimpering mess on his desk, hot pants leaving your pretty lips. 

Joel is in heaven, lapping you up and moaning against your core as your clit starts to twitch with the overstimulation. His hands squeeze at the flesh of your thighs before he sits up and kisses up your body, his own lips meeting yours. He’s hungry, and you’re still bouncing back. But you want it so bad, and you’re so close to finally having it. 

“Joel, I’m ready.” You coo, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

He breathily laughs and pecks your lips once more, tasting your own arousal and making you feel warm inside. 

“Desperate for my cock, ain’t that right, pretty girl?” 

God, he was such a menace with his mouth. Your adorably shy grin is all the answer he needs. But you give him one anyway, because he likes when you talk like that with him. 

“Yes, daddy, I just wanna feel it already,” you try out, Joel’s lust-filled eyes meeting yours as white-hot heat spills into your stomach. 

“I’ll give it to ya, baby girl. Wanna give that tight little virgin pussy my cock, don’t want anyone else to have ya. Mine.” Joel huskily grunts, a choked moan leaving your lips. 

Joel reaches past your head and to the drawer on the other side of the desk. He jimmies it open and searches his hand around blindly. He flips open his wallet and pulls a small square foil package from the slot. 

Oh, duh, a condom. In all your excitement, you sort of forgot to be safe. But you’re glad he was prepared. 

You watch with adoration on your features as Joel lifts the condom to his lips, pearly teeth ripping the foil off but not hurting the condom. His other hand rests sweetly on your hip, thumb running soothing circles into your pretty skin. 

It’s a soothing feeling, one that he doesn’t have to do, but he does because he’s being considerate and maybe even a little protective. You gently lay your hand on his forearm, fingers tracing fresh black ink and older green ink on his arm’s sleeve. 

A shaky sigh leaves your lips as he uses both hands to glide the condom down his shaft. It’s nearly invisible, the way it’s so thin and tightly wrapped around his cock. Besides the band that rests at the very bottom of his shaft. He grumbles something incoherent, probably his annoyance with the fussing of the condom and how tight it probably felt around him.  

You take in a shaky breath and nod at him once he comes to rejoin your centers. 

“You’re sure you’re ready for this? Don’t wanna wait for someone y’love? Or trust? Or just... Anybody but me?” Joel’s face is pinched with genuine concern. 

You smile softly and gently cup his cheek. “I do trust you. It takes a lot of trust to allow someone to alter your body forever with a tattoo. So, you’re giving me a tattoo, and you’re taking my virginity. You’re sort of doubling down for me right now, honestly.” 

Joel flashes a genuine little smile. It’s the most you’ve said consistently all day with him, even with a little drip of sarcasm and wit. 

“Okay. But ya gotta say it.” He says more seriously. 

“I’m ready, Daddy. Want you to make me feel good. I know you can.” You can already feel yourself picking up his dirty talk. It makes your smile twitch as you gently grip both of his forearms, his hands spreading your thighs open for him. 

He enters the space, his heavy cock resting over your core and slowly slipping up and down your wet folds. 

You let out an unexpected little scoff as he grinds himself down against you, your arousal soaking the condom. He holds himself at his base and taps his tip down against your already throbbing clit, making you hiss out a desperate whine. 

“M’not usually this… gentle.” He admits through gritted teeth. You’re sort of shocked by that. Sure, he has a rough and tough exterior, but he’s treated you with such delicacy that you assumed he was like this all the time. 

“So, what are you usually like?” You pose, your breath hitching in your throat as one of his hands abandons your thighs and guides his tip from your clit to your entrance, up and down, several times. Your thighs twitch impatiently. Your entrance squeezes around nothing. 

“M’just... not this gentle,” is all he can say without breaking into a bemused smile. 

“Yeah? Maybe you can show me next time what you’re really like.” 

Joel playfully scoffs as his face starts to pierce with concentration. “Not sure if you can handle it, kitten.” 

“I’m sure I-” your words are cut off by a loud gasp, your lips parting as his tip penetrates your walls. You’re phased for a moment before you gulp and recollect yourself. You whimper, louder and louder as he pushes on, watching Joel move with such caution. 

He really is holding back, you think. You wonder what he’s like when he can just fuck how he pleases. 

“Baby,” Joel’s voice breaks your concentration. “Breathe.” 

A loud huff of air leaves your mouth that you hadn’t even realized you were holding in. The ache in your hips and core only builds with tension as Joel pushes on, his length and girth surely parting your tight walls. 

“So fuckin’- tight.” He says with gritted teeth, his fingers piercing into the delicate flesh of your outer thighs, making you whimper. 

“Joel,” you quietly cry for him, tears threatening to spill at the pain. It’s just- a lot. It’s a lot for your first time, and maybe you wouldn’t have signed up if you knew what he was packing, but in a weird way, you loved it. He felt made for you. 

“M’here, angel, look at me.” In all the excitement and overwhelming feelings of pain and pleasure, you hadn’t even noticed you were clenching your eyes closed. You slowly peek them open, greeted by his heavenly features. 

“There’s my girl.” He compliments, warmth and sweetness shooting through your body. 

“Fuck,” you say, your voice a bit wet as Joel comes down closer to aid you. He’s all the way in now, you can feel his balls flushed against your sopping wet cunt. 

The arousal helps, the condom sort of doesn’t but it’s fine, that’s life, you think. You’re torn between pain and pleasure. Honestly, you just feel so fucking full. 

He tells you between breathy pants that he would have used lube if he had any, but he didn’t, and he’s sorry, and his pretty voice starts to turn into static with how fucking good he feels inside of you. 

“You’re doing so good for me, angel,” he praises, sponging a few kisses along your cheeks and tasting your salty tears. You feel like some weak pathetic being under him. He’s been sweet, but you’re sure he’s just treating you like he found a wounded animal. 

“Move, Joel, please” you weakly demand, lassoing your arms around his neck and holding him close to you. 

“No.” He says through gritted teeth. “Just-” he pauses and takes a deep breath, knowing that you’re dealing with a million emotions right now as he’s trying to breathe around the death grip you have on his cock. “Just wait a minute, sweetheart, let yourself adjust.” 

A pouty, bratty sigh leaves your lips as you continue to blink away tears. You eventually nod and he only smiles adoringly as he returns to kiss at the tears.

Your senses are spiked. You can smell his cologne, feel each gristle of hair from his salt and pepper beard. It’s erotic how much more you can feel while at the edge of your emotions. 

One of your hands roams into his darling chocolate curls, instinctually going to gently scrape your nails delicately against his scalp. You’re sweetly surprised to hear him mutter a sweet little moan just for you against the shell of your ear. 

Your hands flutter across dark tattoos on his shoulders and arms, your blurry vision trying to make out the shapes as you trace a pretty angel on his upper bicep. 

Joel Miller was inside of you. Joel Miller has taken your virginity. The hottest man you’ve ever set your eyes on is fucking you at his place of work, on his desk. And you convinced him to. 

Joel was right. The pain, ache, and burn slowly turned into a real yearning for him to move. It felt like what was right, a certain neediness to be filled and fucked.  

“Daddy,” you whisper more sweetly this time, more to your character. “Please fuck me, you feel good now, I can take it. Promise.” 

It takes him a moment to gather himself as well, smiling sweetly as he keeps his mouth by your breasts where he is sucking a gentle hickey into your soft skin. Color flushes to the area, feeling his teeth gently nibble on the spot before he finally lifts off. 

Marking you, you think. It makes another gush of arousal flood your core, liquifying your spine as you become putty in his hands. 

His mouth twitches in a small smile as he captures your lips. Unbeknownst to you, the sweet kiss was just a distraction. 

Joel slowly began reeling his hips back which was a whole new sensation. His strangled moan harmonized with the gasp you let out into his mouth, moaning out the breath you were holding as he plunges himself fully back inside your warm cunt. 

You whimpered weakly, needy and anxiously happy, you wanted more. More, more, more. 

“Oh- my god,” you whimper, feeling him start a steady rhythm inside of you. Your jaw slowly drops and your eyes flutter closed, feeling your tits start to lightly bounce every time his hips perfectly align with your own. 

“So goddamn tight, still,” he grunts each word, forehead against yours as he watches your face unfold with a million reactions. 

Something primal switches in Joel, knowing he’s the first one to do this sort of stuff with you. 

It’s strangely possessive and arrogant, he knows it, but being the first man you trust to fuck you properly was feeding his ego. You’re a beautiful young woman with big doe eyes who waltzed into his shop and insisted he rail you, take your sacred first, talk you through it, and carry you through this dark and fearful forest. 

You trusted him. He wouldn’t break that bond. 

You came here wanting something, knowing how to get it. You came here asking, and Joel was open to teaching. The last thing he wanted was for some asshole to hurt you, something your sweet nature couldn’t afford was poison. 

Maybe he could teach you more, if you wanted. If he offered you an invitation to his world, would you take it? He only shared a slice of his lifestyle with you today, would the rest scare you, or entice you? 

Joel can’t help the way his hips buck faster at his thoughts, a little sob leaving your lips. He’s absent, just for a moment, feeling your skin slap against his as he holds you down and fills you fully. His tip hits your cervix for the first time and heat floods your stomach as you cry out his name. 

“Shit,” he panics and quickly comes back to his senses, wide eyes meeting your bleary ones, “you okay, angel? M’sorry” Joel whispers, returning to his original rhythm. 

“Yes-yes, fuck, please keep going, keep doing that, I can’t believe how good it feels.” 

Joel weakly smirks, proud to see you taking him so well.

The desk squeaks and juts with each of his heavy thrusts, that’s how you know it’s fucking good. You came here wanting to lose your virginity, but now that you’ve unwound Joel Miller, you want him to fucking rail you. 

Licking your lips, you lean up and pepper kisses up his wirey jawline, feeling the patch of hair that fades out and then back in again. He’s so sweet right now, but you wonder what he was talking about before. What was he when he wasn’t gentle? How good would rough feel? Would you like it? Maybe you could learn, explore, adventure. Surely Joel with his experience could be a guiding light. 

You watch with glittery eyes as Joel pulls his head off yours and licks across the pads of his fingers. 

“What are you- shit,” you whimper as his fingers start circling your clit, taking a moment to find your sweet little rhythm, one that somehow matches his hips. Now, your skin is slapping and it’s echoing around the room. Your moans are louder and uncontrollable, as are Joel’s. Your hips ache but you don’t find the will to care, he feels like fucking heaven. 

His cock is somehow inching deeper, as if your walls have decided to invite him in further, where he hits this perfect little spot inside of you that makes you squeak Joel’s name with robbed breaths. 

You’re not sure if you can hold on much longer, your stomach starts to swirl as all the knots inside your belly begin to untie themselves. 

You brace Joel at his shoulders and look into his eyes as you moan his name. A certain hunger flickers behind his dark brown orbs. His jaw clicks and he starts fucking you in earnest, filling you up each time as his hips snap with vigor. He feels fucking amazing, piercing your walls and marking you as his. 

“Joel-”

“Say what I wanna hear, baby,” he rasps. You quickly nod and gulp. 

“Daddy, please, I-I’m so close,” you moan sweetly as your head digs into the desk, jutting your chin up and arching your back. Joel takes full advantage of your breasts in his face, burying his nose in between them and nipping at the sensitive flesh, nearly making you yelp. 

“M’right there with you, angel baby, come for me,” he insists breathlessly.

His hips were losing their precision, going buck-wild, so you knew he was close. But he was holding out for you. 

You clench your eyes closed, feeling yourself lose all control. Your heart races in your chest, beat thrumming in your throat as you hold Joel against your front as his hips continue to snap and fill you. You don’t know what to do with your mouth, so you feverishly land your lips on his and make him mask the moans of your orgasm. 

Joel’s groan echoes loudly into your mouth as you gasp against his lips. Your walls clench eagerly around his cock as he spills into the condom. 

It’s blinding, deafening even. Your face goes slack and your eyes see stars. You think you might be shedding a tear or two because Joel is cupping your face kindly, thumbs swiping under your eyes as he encourages you out of your haze. 

“Lemme see those eyes, pretty girl,” he pants sweetly, watching for any sign of doubt. But he wouldn’t find any. 

You’re not so sure where he starts and you begin, your mind is so fuzzy. 

A soft hum leaves your lips as you soothingly run a hand through his dark hair again, gently stroking the longer curls away from the sheen on his forehead. Both of you were so warm, it felt like a fire was set between you two. When you curl a strand around your finger, you weakly smile as it coils back up and bounces. 

“How was your first time, angel?” Joel pants, still buried balls deep inside of you. Your hips ache, but part of you wasn’t ready for him to pull out yet. 

“I can’t believe I finished twice.” You admit with a shy smile, running a thumb up his cheekbone and glancing up at his eyebrow piercing. He notices you staring but keeps his eyes on your own.  

“Did it hurt?”

He shakes his head. 

“What about the one in your nose?”

He shakes his head again, this time with a smile. 

“Or your tongue?” 

This one made him ponder before he finally gave a light shrug. 

“You don’t remember the pain after a while. Just like tattoos. The pain is temporary.” 

Your mouth tilts in a lopsided smile, feeling messy with both of your spillages still puddled around your centers. 

Joel grunts as he slowly stands up from his bent-over position on the desk, pulling himself out of you and tying up the condom before he tosses it into the waste bin. 

You whine quietly to yourself as you close your legs. It hurts a little more now. Your hips and your core, a certain soreness. Or maybe it was missing him already. 

“Oh,” you whisper, starting to feel a little bit of leakage glide down your thigh. “Joe, do you-” 

“Course,” Joel says assuringly, hands already on a towel as he neals down and gently glides the material up the inside of your thigh. You bite down on your lip as he cleans you up with the soft towel and a little bit of water. 

You glance around the sterilized room and realize he’ll probably have to scrub this place down for the most part. Whoops. 

You’re slow to dress. Joel’s already buttoned his pants by the time you find your panties. He snickers quietly and helps you dress with a smirk. 

It’s not awkward like you feared it would. It sort of felt like you guys were friends. Then, something sort of unexpected happens. 

Joel fondly strokes a hair out of your face, pushing it behind your ear and smoothing out the little knots he had caused while fisting your hair during his blowjob. He’s soft and gentle with you. It makes you oh so curious what he looks like when he’s not soft and gentle. 

You sigh softly as you look at yourself in the mirror. You sort of felt proud, like you’d be a whole new person leaving the shop today. Even without a tattoo. 

“Joel, I don’t want anyone to see me leaving your office.” 

“That ashamed of me, huh?” He scoffs at you playfully, running his hand up and down his chest hair before he finally throws on his shirt. “I have the back office, so we can just go out that door.” He juts up his chin to behind you and you follow his eyeline. “Goes to the alley behind the shop.” 

You note the dark green painted exit door, and you’re thankful you don’t have to parade through the front of the shop or go past any other clients. 

The gentleman that he is, Joel walks you to your car as dusk settles in, marking the sky an orange and red horizon.  

“I gotta clean up the shop and close. You gonna be okay until I see you next?”

You nod meekly, a sweet smile on your face that twinges with a little shyness. “I’ll be okay. I still need that tattoo.” You tease to which he grins. 

“You do. I’ve worked real hard on it, so you better come back an’get it.” 

You nip at your lower lip as he stays guarded by your window, like a handsome pierced, and tatted bodyguard. 

It’s itching at you too much to let it go. You’re just too curious. “M’not this gentle.” 

“Yeah? Maybe you can show me next time what you’re really like.” 

“Not sure if you can handle it, kitten.” 

You gulp and clutch his hand before he fully stands up to walk away from your car. “You’ll show me again sometime? Like you said?”

Your eyes glimmer with a certain hopefulness, but his own seem to harden out of caution. 

It was just insane that he knew so much more than you. You wanted to unlock all forms of pleasure you were comfortable with. You like that he was holding something back. 

You were wet clay in his massive hands, he could mold you to his liking. You could learn his pleasures, his kinks, what unravels him beyond repair. You could learn a thing or two about yourself in the process. 

Joel sighs. 

“You don’t know what you’re askin’ for.” He warns, lips crooked in a snarl. His eyes beg for you not to want him, not to want this. 

But nothing set your nerves on fire like seeing him in control of you, just that brief second where his eyes flashed from amber to black and he fucked you like nothing or no one was stopping him. What if you gave it all up to him? 

Submissiveness dances behind your eyes, and Joel’s a sucker for that sweet look on your face. He debates if this is what you really want, or if it’s something else. He can’t deny he enjoys the trust you put in him. 

Joel quietly sighs with hesitation, eyes the way your small hand desperately holds his before he finally squeezes back. 

“You don’t know how t’take no for an answer, do ya?” He asks, a small smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth. “That’ll have to change.” 

You grin and nod, biting down on your lower lip as you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Joel takes notice, not wanting to see you in any sort of discomfort, especially from something he caused. 

“Take some pain medicine and relax tonight, angel. You were perfect.” 

Your heart swells at the compliment, the appreciation, the care. He gently pats your window a few times before standing up straight and backing up from your car, moving back towards the dark green exit door. “I’ll see you soon.” 

Driving away, you’re giddy with excitement of the unknown. It was a dark path you wanted to pursue. And maybe it was fucking stupid how you could trust a complete stranger like this, how none of your past partners felt worthy of your first time, but the tattooed and pierced old southern gentleman did. It was fucked. But you were sort of fucked for Joel Miller. 

You hum to the radio as you experience pure adrenaline, thumb gliding over the raised numbers on his business card. You glance down and notice a small stamp of a fern in the top right corner, adjacent to his name and professional title. 

The Obsidian Gallery 

Joel Miller

Senior Tatoo Artist

You can’t explain how your heart inadvertently races as you remember flashes of his hips rutting into yours, those same delicate fern leaves decorating the front of his hips. You were so fucked for Joel Miller. 

next chapter ->

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 21- Paradise

Summary: Now that you and Javi are married, it's time for you to enjoy two weeks of nothing but your three favorite "S's"- Sun, sand, and sex. Lots of Sex.

Word Count: 13.9K

Warnings: SMUT (18+) unprotected p in v sex, oral (f and m receiving) vaginal fingering, praise kink, marriage kink, big, fat, nasty, unspeakable breeding kink (WHOOPS), stopping birth control/starting a family, kind of semi-public sex (sex on the beach hehe), alcohol/drinking (y'all are getting wasted at the pool), I'm convinced these two can't have sex without getting caught (sorry, Chucho), Javi in a bathing suit, these two are so stupidly in love

A/N: ..... Hey.... Y'all remember when I actually wrote for this story.... 😭 I'm genuinely SO sorry that this chapter took me literal months to finish, but she is finally here!!! Thank you so much for all of your patience and the love you've shown these two even in this story's absence 🥺 I hope you enjoy these two horndogs on their honeymoon!!!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

“We have all of our bags?” 

“Yup.” 

“Passports?” 

“Mhmmmm.” 

“Plane tickets?” 

“Yes.” 

“We’re positive that we have-” 

“Baby, I promise, I triple checked everything this morning, it’s all waiting by the front door, all we have to do now is just wait for my dad to pick us up and take us to the airport, and all my wife needs to do is take a deep breath and relax.” 

My wife. 

Even though you had been married for less than 24 hours, you knew the sentiment of finally getting to be Javi’s wife wasn’t wearing off on you any time soon. 

Javi smiled, playfully crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow at you as you ran through your honeymoon inventory again, knowing damn well you looked like a fool in your frantic pre-traveling state. You more than trusted that Javi had everything the two of you needed before you left for the airport, but you just couldn’t shake the fact that you felt like you were forgetting something, despite all your checks and re-checks. 

“Well, your wife will be much more relaxed once we land after being trapped in a flying tin can and have two feet on the ground again.” You sighed, trying not to let your fear of flying override your excitement to finally arrive in the Bahamas later that day. “God, I feel like I forgot to pack something important but I can’t figure out what.” 

As you stared in frustration at your pile of suitcases, you could feel Javi sneaking behind you, flushing his chest to your back as his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he rested his chin on your shoulder, planting a soft kiss on your temple. 

“I think I know what it is.” Javi smirked, his kisses traveling down your jaw as he nipped at your ear, making you turn your head back toward him in confusion. 

“Oh, so now you’re a husband and a mind reader. That honestly will come in very handy.” You teased, giggling while you shifted around to face him, draping his arms around his neck as his hands traveled down your waist, reaching down to grab a handful of your ass. “Jesus Javi, what in the world am I forgetting, because you seem pretty darn happy I can’t remember it.” 

“You really don’t know?” Javi asked, almost mockingly, tightening his grip around your hips, peppering kisses along your jaw and neck, the hot words of his breath dancing across your skin. 

“No, Mr. Mind Reader, I don’t, and you’re making it very hard to concentrate and figure out what it is.” 

You were trying your best to genuinely let your brain run out its train of thought, but as Javi’s kisses across your collarbone became wetter and sloppier, trying to form any sort of coherent idea was practically impossible. 

Javi paused for a moment, reaching both hands up to cusp your face, his broad hands cradling your jaw as his thumbs swiped across your cheeks, looking up at him to see the boyish grin spread from cheek to cheek. 

“You’re forgetting something because you’re forgetting to bring it on purpose. Something we threw away this morning, remember?” 

Oh shit. 

You were forgetting something. Only, now that you finally remembered what it was, you couldn’t be happier that you had forgotten it. 

Your birth control. 

As Javi watched your face quickly fade from confusion to delight, your grin was just about as wide as his, biting down on your lip to try and contain your excitement while your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. 

The two of you could actually start trying for a baby. 

“You remember now?” Javi teased, laughing to himself at how wide your eyes had gone, practically beaming from the inside out at your husband, feeling butterflies swirl in your stomach and heat building in your core. 

Leaning up, your mouth met Javi’s in a sloppy dance of tongues and teeth, lips crashing together in electric excitement, grabbing a fistfull of the fitted green t-shirt covering his chest and tugging him closer towards you. 

“How much longer until your dad is supposed to be here?” You rasped, already breathing heavily from your frantic kisses and anticipation. 

Quickly, Javi looked down at his watch wrapped around his wrist, the gears turn in his brain, calculating if the two of you had enough time to do what he knew you were proposing. 

“Fuck- Like, 40 minutes?” 

Without saying a word, both of you agreed in silent, rushed nods that 40 minutes was enough time to give yourself enough of a buffer, and the risk definitely didn’t outweigh the reward, knowing there was no way in hell that you could wait an entire plane ride and arriving at your hotel room to fuck. 

In an instant, your mouths were crashing together again, Javi grabbing the underside of your thighs to hoist you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you back towards the couch in the living room, the back of his knees hitting the sofa as he collapsed into his seat, you still straddling his lap without ever parting your lips. 

Javi’s hands crept below the hem of your shirt, shuffling it over your head and tossing it on the floor before shuffling your shorts and underwear off to join your top in a crumpled pile on the floor. Your hands worked rapidly at the waistband of Javi’s shorts, lifting up off his lap to push them down his thighs, revealing the hard and weeping mess his cock had already become since carrying you over to the couch, your cunt aching at the sight of his length and how desperately you wanted to be filled by it. 

“God, I wanna fuck you so bad.” You whimpered between your wet kisses, shifting yourself closer to hover over his dick, so turned on that you were convinced that your arousal was already dripping down your thighs at an embarrassing rate. 

“Baby, you have no fucking idea.” Javi groaned, dragging his fingers through your folds, your body jolting at the sensation at the pads of his fingers rubbing over your clit, throbbing and aching under his touch. “Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking wet.” 

Reaching down to wrap your hand around the base of his cock, stroking it a few times, you slowly lowered yourself down onto his tip, knowing that with your limited time and how turned on you were, you didn’t want to feel anything besides the sweet sting of Javi’s stretch filling you to the brim. 

The two of you moaned in unison as you sank down on his length, bottoming out until you had taken every inch of him, taking a second to adjust to his size before rolling your hips over his lap in figure eights. 

“F-fuck, you feel so good, Javi.” You whined, circling your bottom half faster, the friction of the hairs at the base of Javi’s cock rubbing deliciously against your clit combined with Javi groping at your breasts, sucking at one of your pebbled nipples while he rolled the other between his fingers, making your breath hitch in the back of your throat. 

Javi began to let his hips rut up into yours, thrusting his length deeper into your cunt as you rode him, his hands sliding down the sides of your body and wrapping around your ass, massaging the plump flesh between his fingers while his lips crashed into yours again, catching each other’s muffled moans. 

“F-fuck…”  Javi whined, tightening his grip to try and maintain his composure as his thoughts began to flow straight from his brain through his mouth. “I’m gonna fuck you so full of me, Osita. Fuck a baby into you, get you pregnant, watch you grow our our kid and give us our perfect family.” 

“Oh my god- fuck- yes. Please, Javi. Fuck, I want you to knock me up. I wanna- fuck- I wanna  make you a daddy.” You moaned, running your hands through the dark curls of Javi’s hair as he began to pound into you even harder, his fingertips gripping your hips with bruising intensity as he guided you up and down his cock, the two of you both so lost in your own pleasure that you hadn’t heard a faintly familiar voice echoing from the front door. 

“Javi, Mija, I know I’m a little early but I figured you’d rather get to the airport earlier than later!” 

Little did poor Chucho know that today was one of the few times in his life that he would regret showing up anywhere earlier than expected. 

Surprised by the lack of response, despite the packed and stacked bags waiting by the front door, an unsuspecting Chucho kicked off his boots and began meandering down the entryway towards your living room, where and even more unsuspecting you and Javi were half dressed and sprawled across your couch trying to make a baby. 

“Javier? Mija? Are you two ready to leave soon? I was hoping that- Oh Dios Mio!” 

“AHHHHHHH!” 

With Javi’s back to his dad as you sat in his lap, you were the first to lock eyes with your now father-in-law, your jaw practically falling to the floor as you let out a panicked shriek, causing Javi to whip his own head around, terror running through his veins as he frantically threw you off his lap and tried to cover the both of you with the nearest blanket he could find. 

“Jesus Christ, Pops!” Javi shouted, hands covering his face that had turned bright red in quite possibly the world's worst kind of embarrassment. “Why are you here so early?! Please just, I- I don’t know, for Christ’s sake, please go wait outside!” He sighed, pointing towards the front door where Chucho had just regrettably entered from. 

“How was I supposed to know!? I figured I would be safe! Say no more, I will just go wait on the front porch. Aye, aye, aye…” Chucho replied, quickly scampering away towards the door, eyes peeled to the ground and arms up in self-defense, waiting until you heard the soft slam and clicking lock behind him before peering out from underneath your blanket shield. 

“Jesus fucking Christ…” Javi groaned, hands still covering his face as you looked up at him, cheeks glowing beet red in embarrassment. 

“Please don’t tell me your dad just walked in on us having sex…” You winced, absolutely knowing the answer to your question, but still somehow praying that maybe, just maybe, you were imaging things. 

“... My dad definitely just walked in on us having sex.” Javi sighed, his face as almost as red as yours, scrambling to find your clothes scattered between the cushions, tossing them over to you, frantically trying to cover yourself up to save any ounce of dignity you had left. 

“Well, looks like I am going to start walking to the airport because I don’t think I can ever make eye contact with your dad again…” You muttered, making you and Javi laugh just enough to try and ease the uncomfortable tension, wondering how in the world you were supposed to spend an entire ride to the airport with Chucho without wanting to crawl out of your skin. “I thought you said he was supposed to get here later!”

“Well that’s what I thought too, but apparently not!” Javi grumbled, shuffling his shirt over his head, combing his hand through his hair to try and fix the mess you had made raking your fingers through it. 

“Guess we won’t have any worries about getting to the airport on time…” 

“Guess you’re right about that. Fuck me…” 

“Sure you don’t wanna start walking?” 

While Chucho, you and Javi had seemingly made a silent pact to not say a peep to each other the entire car ride for the duration of your drive, every passing second seemed more awkward and uncomfortable than the last, truly regretting your decision to not grab your bags and walk along the highway to try and catch your flight. 

It wasn’t until Chucho began pulling up to drop the two of you off that he decided it was time to break your truce, his eyes meeting yours in the rear view mirror as the two of you sat awkwardly in the backseat, bracing yourself the moment you could feel his mouth begin to open. 

“You know, the night of our wedding, Lucia and I just couldn’t keep our hands off each other either, it was so-” 

“Dad!” Javi interjected, his face physically scrunching in pain at the thought of how his father planned to complete the rest of that thought, trying to cut him off before he could get any further. 

“Lo siento (Sorry)! God forbid I try to do something to ease the tension!” Chucho chuckled, throwing his hands up in defense at his statement. 

“I don’t think where you were headed was the way to do that, Pops.” Javi muttered, letting out another deep sigh of embarrassment. 

 “Well lucky for you, it looks like we’re here.” Chucho smiled, pulling into one of the parking spots outside of your gate and turning off the ignition. “Here, let me help you with the bags in the trunk and-” 

“Nope, already got it, Pops, please do not get out of the car.” Javi begged, practically sprinting out of the backseat to the trunk, you quickly following behind him, beginning to sheepishly unload your luggage from the car. 

Of course, Chucho being Chucho was not about to take no for an answer, slowly fumbling his way out of the car to greet the two of you at the trunk with a mischievous grin stretched ear to ear. 

“Pops, please, I told you I’ve got it, I-” 

“Oh hush, Javier, I am just coming out to say goodbye, yo promento (I promise).” Chucho laughed, grabbing Javi by the shoulder, giving him a little shake. 

“Bye Chucho.” You grimaced, leaning in reluctantly for a hug. “Thanks for dropping us off. S-sorry about earlier.” You couldn’t help but wince again, eyes darting to the ground at your last sentence. 

“Oh mija, don’t apologize. Could be worse.” 

“I’m not really sure how it could be…” You whispered under your breath, just loud enough for Javi to hear, making him hold back a snort. 

“Besides, I think this bodes well for my bet I have placed.” Chucho smirked, crossing his arms over his chest as the two of you looked at him in confusion, 

“Your bet?” Javi asked, raising an eyebrow at his dad. 

“Mhmmm. The bet between me, your family, Mija, and the Murphy’s.” 

“As much as I love a vague and cryptic guessing game, any chance you’re gonna tell us what that bet is?” You laughed uncomfortably, looking back between Javi and Chucho. 

“Oh, don’t you worry, Mija. I think the two of you will know soon enough. Okay, enough of that! I will let the two of you go. Have a safe flight and a wonderful trip. I couldn’t be happier for the two of you. Enjoy your first of your many amazing adventures as a married couple.” 

While you couldn’t deny you still weren’t far off from wanting to find the nearest hole and disappear in, you couldn’t help but feel your cheeks warm at the sentiment of Chucho’s well-wishes, placing your hand in Javi’s and squeezing it tight, beaming up at your husband with love and excitement. 

“Thanks, Pops.” 

“Claro (of course). Alright, mijos, adios. Have fun. But not too much fun, if you know what I-” 

“Yup, we know exactly what you mean, bye, Dad!” Javi grunted, gently turning his father around and pushing him back towards the car making him laugh, giving the both of you one last wave goodbye before disappearing down the road. 

“Jesus Christ, I’m glad that’s over…” Javi sighed, wrapping his arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“You can say that again. What bet do you think he was talking about?” 

“Honestly, no fucking clue. And truth be told, right now, I couldn’t care less. Because right now,” He paused, leaning down to hold your cheek in his palm, forcing your gaze up at him, “all I care about,” he paused once again, planting a playful kiss on your lips, “is getting my beautiful wife onto this plane so we can start our honeymoon.” 

“Say it again.” You smiled, pressing up on your tiptoes to kiss him back. 

“My wife. My beautiful, amazing, drop dead gorgeous wife, who has single-handedly made me the luckiest man in the entire world.” Javi smirked, biting down on his lip as his grip tightened around you, making you giggle. 

“Easy there, Romeo, we still have a whole flight to get through, ya know.” 

Fortunately, your flight and arrival to the Bahamas was much less eventful than anything that had happened this morning, the embarrassment of your father-in-law’s unfortunate timing quickly fading away as you strolled up to the front desk to check into your room for the next ten days of nothing but what you had deemed your three favorite “S’s”- 

Sun, sand, and sex. 

Lots of sex. 

“Hi there! Welcome! My name is Cassandra, how can I help the two of you today?” A woman smiled politely from behind the check-in desk, quickly clacking away at her keyboard. 

“Hi. We’re checking in for Peña.” Javi beamed, grabbing your hand in his, gently rubbing his thumb over both sets of rings wrapped around your finger, knowing there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d ever get used to the fact he was lucky enough to get to call you his wife for the rest of his life. 

“Perfect! Let me get right on that.” She nodded, fingers tapping across the keys as she looked up your information. “Any special reason for your stay here?” 

“Honeymoon.” The two of you answered in sync, laughing to yourselves at your well timed response. 

“Well why didn’t you say that to begin with?! Let me see if I have anything I can upgrade you to for your stay!” Cassandra scoffed, almost comedically offended that your opening line hadn’t been “It’s our honeymoon, upgrade our room please!” 

“Oh, you don’t have to-” 

“Oh, honey, please. This is my favorite part of my job. Absolutely the least I can do for the two of you. Congratulations. Just give me one second here and…. Ah! Yes! I thought this one was available. Let’s upgrade you to the Ocean View King Suite. This one is one of my favorite rooms. You get the most beautiful view of the sunrise right from your balcony!” 

You and Javi looked at each other beaming, grins plastered across your faces in surprise. “Thank you so much, this is so nice of you to do for us.” You smiled. 

“Of course. Least that I can do. Like I said, it’s one of the highlights of doing this job. Alright, well, here are your room keys!” Cassandra grinned, passing the key cards and room information over the concierge desk and handing them to you and Javi. “If you head over to your right, there’s a bay of elevators that will take you to your room. I hope that you two have a wonderful stay, and enjoy your honeymoon!” 

“Thank you again, we really appreciate it.” Javi nodded, stuffing things into his pocket before leaning down to give you a kiss and reaching back to grab his suitcase and your hand in his. 

As Javi turned, leading the two of you towards the elevator, you couldn’t help but laugh at Cassandra’s face, her eyebrow playfully raised and head nodding in approval, pointing at Javi and giving you a thumbs up, as if you needed more confirmation that you had made a top-tier choice on the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with. 

“What’s so funny?” Javi smirked, tilting his head in confusion at your giggles as the two of you stepped into the elevator with the small crowd of people on their way back to their hotel rooms. 

“Nothing. Just some reassurance that I cleaned up pretty damn well in the husband department, which I can’t say I disagree with.” You snickered, reaching up to wrap your hand around his jaw, squeezing his cheeks in your grasp. 

“You’re such a dork, you know that?” 

“A dork who is now your wife, thank you very much.” You sassed, crossing your arms over your chest, making the two of you laugh quietly to yourselves until the ding of the elevator caught your attention. “Oh! I think this is us!” Quickly scrambling to grab your suitcase, you dashed out of the elevator as the doors parted, followed by Javi, trying to keep up with your excited pace. 

“Alright, Mrs. Dork, we’re room 2331.” Javi grinned, pulling the information from the front desk out of his pocket, scanning the hallway for rooms approaching your number, watching you search in front of him with detective-like accuracy. 

“Okay, let’s see, 2329… 2330… Here! Here it is! 2331!” You beamed, showing off the number of your room Vanna White style to Javi as he began to slip the room key into the card reader, pausing for a moment to stare at you with his sweet brown eyes in the midst of your goofiness. “What’s that look for?” You teased, smiling back at him. 

“Just reminding myself of how lucky I am. I love you, Mrs. Peña.” 

Mrs. Peña. 

You couldn’t help but let your heart skip a beat at the sound of him saying it, still not quite sure that the incredible reality of your new last name had completely sunk in with you yet. 

“I love you too, Mr. Peña. Now, you gonna open this door so we can put this room to use or what?” You smirked, raising your eyebrow at him playfully, gesturing towards your hotel room door. 

With a quick swipe of your room key the two of you unlocked your door to get a first glimpse of your hotel room. At first, the both of you were convinced you must have been in the wrong place, because this was the most beautiful, luxurious hotel room that you had ever laid eyes on. Complete with a giant king bed covered in fresh white sheets, free standing tub, huge couch and living room area, newly renovated, and most impressively, a huge set of sliding glass doors that lead to your balcony overlooking a breath-taking view of the beach and ocean below you. 

Mental note to self- you owed Cassandra at the big desk the biggest thank you ever. 

“Holy shit, Javi. This is gorgeous.” You muttered to yourself, dropping your bags off at one of the closets at the front of the room as you began to wander and explore, gently poking and prodding around as if you were a tourist in a museum, rather than a hotel guest in your own room. 

“It’s got no lack of options, that’s for sure.” Javi laughed quietly to himself, following behind you as he set down his own bags before doing an investigation of his own, the majority of which was spent watching you excitedly explore the in’s and outs of your new home for the next 10 days. 

“No lack of options?” You asked, tilting your head in confusion, as you turned towards Javi, hands resting on his hips with a smug grin spread from ear to ear. 

“Mmmhmmm.” He replied, making his way towards you until his hands were wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his chest to force your gaze up at his brown eyes, pooling with an equal combination of excitement and mischief. “No lack of options in this room for places I get to fuck my beautiful wife.” 

“You’re so bad!” You teased, giving him a little slap to his chest as the two of you laughed, knowing that you had the exact same thought, he was just the first to say it. 

“Oh c’mon, like you didn’t think the same thing.” 

“Okay listen… you’re not wrong. I would be a liar if I didn’t walk in here and think about how many different furniture choices we could fuck on before we had to leave.” You sighed in a playful defeat, your breaths slowly transforming to light and giggly to low and needy as Javi slid his hands resting on your hips down to your ass, palming it in his grasp. 

Craning his head down to rest in the crook of your neck, you couldn’t help but moan as he sucked at your pulse point, wet kisses consuming your neck and jawline as a damp patch began to pool in your underwear, falling apart under Javi’s touch. 

“Well if that’s the case, what should we break in first, Osita? What does mi esposa (my wife) want? ” Javi hummed, slipping his hands under the waistband of your shorts and underwear, pushing them over your hips and down your legs until they pooled around your ankles, leaving your bottom half bare. 

Snaking his hand between your bodies, you whimpered as his fingers ghosted over your core, grazing over your clit with just enough pressure to make you shutter in anticipation, feeling the slick of your arousal beginning to coat your thighs with want and need. 

“F-fuck-” You stammered, trying to string together anything that resembled a coherent thought, “The b-bed. Fuck me on the bed, baby, please.” 

Without another word, Javi had scooped you up under your thighs, forcing your legs to lock around his waist as he carried you toward the bed, mouths crashing together in a hungry mess of tongues and teeth. 

Javi set you down, gently laying your back on the bed just enough to let your lower half hang off the edge so he could make a home between your legs, draping each one over his shoulders and pushing them open further to reveal the wet, puffy mess in between your thighs. 

You should have been embarrassed with how worked up you already were from a few kisses and some ass grabbing, but with how excited you were to be here with your husband, without a worry in the world besides how many times you could disrespect your hotel room before you had to leave, you had no shame in how you were already dripping with anticipation as Javi’s eyes locked on your core. 

“Fuck, she’s so pretty.” Javi cooed, admiring the glistening sheen of your slick covering your folds, planting gentle kisses along the soft skin of your thighs, creeping closer and closer to your center. You sat up on your elbows to watch as Javi’s fingers lazily traced your cunt, collecting your arousal, rubbing with just enough pressure to make your clit throb even harder than it already had been. “Always so wet for me, Hermosa. My perfect wife. Fuck, I still can’t believe you’re all mine forever.” 

“Forever.” You whimpered, breath hitching in the back of your throat as Javi’s tongue dragged across your core with a broad, flat stroke, looking up at you with those devastatingly sweet, chocolate brown eyes, pulling off you with the look you knew all too well meant you were absolutely a goner. 

“Tastes so fucking sweet, baby.” Javi hummed, carefully bringing two fingers to your core, sinking them inside your weeping hole to prod steadily against your g-spot 

“Oh my god, fuck-” You whimpered, Javi working at a painstakingly slow pace that still had you writhing under his touch, his mouth and fingers moving in the perfect combination of pressure to already have a tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine despite the fact he had just started eating you out. 

Your jaw went slack as his digits prodded faster, his tongue swirling and flicking against your sensitive bundle of nerves, ragged moans and whimpers escaping from your lips, growing louder and more wonton by the second. 

“That’s my girl.” Javi cooed, pulling off you just enough to catch your attention, his fingers never faltering in pace, “Fuck, I could listen to you like this all day, Osita. All the pretty noises my wife makes just for me. C’mon, baby. You want everyone here to know who makes you feel this good, huh? Tell them, sweet girl, who makes you feel this good?” 

“Y-you, Javi, fuck- You do, baby.” You moaned, feeling your pussy begin to flutter around Javi’s fingers as his smug smirk pressed back against your cunt, now sucking at your clit with a ferocious switch intensity he knew would send you over the edge in an instant. 

Squeezing Javi’s head between your thighs, you cried out louder, chanting his name like a prayer with each second you grew closer and closer to your end, feeling arousal creeping through your body at a rapid rate. 

“Javi, Javi, fuck- Oh, baby, Javi, I’m gonna- gonnaahhhhhhh-” 

In an instant, your orgasm crashed through you, filling you with all consuming pleasure that had you seeing stars, sobbing out as your cunt clamped down around Javi’s fingers that were pulsing inside you through your high. 

At this point, you were probably close to suffocating your poor husband, but it was his own damn fault for knowing how to make you cum so hard, your soul just about left your body. 

Finally regaining enough inhibition, you let your legs fall open, freeing Javi from the thigh prison he had trapped himself in, still smirking with delight despite his red face and shortness of breath. 

“Jesus Christ, Osita.” He laughed, standing up as he began to shed his clothes, tossing his shirt and shorts in a crumpled pile on the floor, followed by his already tented and stained boxers, revealing his painfully hard cock, slapping against his stomach and bobbing between his legs as it was freed. “You tryin’ to kill me, baby?” 

“I could ask you the same thing.” You huffed, chest still rising and falling with heavy breaths as you came down from your high. “Sorry, not my fault you make me cum so hard I put you in a headlock between my legs.” 

You and Javi both couldn’t help but laugh as he helped you slide further up the bed, crawling over you and caging you under his broad body, peppering every inch of your body with kisses and intentionally tickling you with his mustache in all the places he knew made you giggle the most. 

“If I die between my wife’s thighs buried face deep in her pussy, I’d die a happy man.” 

“Well I have no plans on intentionally murdering you on this trip, so count yourself safe this time, Peña.” 

“Baby, I’m convinced you’re just trying to kill me slowly this entire trip, considering you have nothing packed in your suitcase besides bikinis and sundresses.” Javi sighed, arms planted around your head as he laid overtop of you, kissing up your collarbone and neck, all the way up your jawline. 

“Javier Peña, we are literally on a tropical vacation to the Bahamas. Would you have liked me to pack, a parka and snow pants?” You teased, breath hitching in the back of your throat between giggles, trying to maintain your composure between the wet, hot kisses, Javi was planting across your skin. 

“No,” He grumbled, “You’re the hottest woman I’ve ever fucking met, baby, you don’t think people aren’t staring at you everywhere you go? I can’t fucking blame ‘em, but they better notice that ring on your finger and know you’re off limits.” 

Heat crept through your cheeks, butterflies swirling in your stomach from what he had said, picking up on the notion behind his thoughts. Javi wasn’t a jealous man, but fuck, was he a protective one, and God help any man who tried to knowingly make a move on you while he was around. 

He wanted everyone to know you were his, and you just as badly wanted everyone to know he was yours. 

“Maybe just the ring isn’t enough, baby.” He smirked, nipping and tugging at your skin with his teeth as he snaked his hand between your bodies to stroke himself and line his cock up with your entrance. “‘Cause you know what else isn’t in your suitcase?” 

Your birth control. 

You didn’t have to say a word to know exactly what Javi meant, your face swelling with a mixture of excitement and want. 

“Javi, oh fuck-” You moaned, cut off by the sweet sting of Javi pushing into you, filling you up with every inch of himself until he had bottomed out, stalling for a moment to let you adjust to his fullness before slowly dragging his cock in and out of your cunt. 

“Maybe,” he groaned, biting down on his lip at just how good you felt around him, warmth and wetness coating his length with each stroke, “Maybe that ring on your finger isn’t enough, Ostia. Maybe once they see you pregnant with our baby growing inside you, they’ll know you’re mine.” 

It never failed to amaze you just how Javi knew how to make you short circuit with words alone, hoping the entire resort didn’t hear the absolutely pathetic whimper you let out at the idea of finally carrying his baby, showing off your family to the world, and the man who had given it to you.  

“Fuck, knock me up Javi. Wanna- wanna make you a daddy.” You whined, wrapping your arm up around his neck, running your fingers through his dark and sweaty curls, tugging him closer to you until your mouths were molded in a messy clash of tongues and teeth. 

“Christ- Yeah, baby girl? Fuck, I’ll give you whatever you want. I’ll fuck myself so deep inside you, it’s got no choice but to fuckin’ take. Keep you stuffed with my cum every day until it sticks.” Javi groaned, gritting his teeth as he grabbed the backs of your thighs, pushing them to your chest and pulling you closer to him so your back began to arch, giving himself the perfect angle to split you open and keep every last drop inside of you. 

You could feel every inch of Javi filling you, perfectly punching against that soft, spongy spot inside your cunt with each thrust, keeping your thighs still pressed against your chest as the lower half of your legs wrapped around the small of Javi’s back, ankles locking together to keep him as close and deep inside you as you could. 

“Dámelo, papi.” You cooed, wicked smile stretched from ear to ear watching Javi physically having to stop himself to let out a strangled groan, clenching his jaw and scrunching his face to keep from busting right then and there.  

“Jesus, fuck-” Javi grunted, finally gaining enough composure to open his eyes and look back down at you beneath him, smugly smirking, “That’s how this is gonna go, huh?"

The chocolate brown of Javi’s eyes began to darken with lust, dragging his cock out and ramming into you so deeply, a pathetic whimper fell from your lips, nearly knocking the wind out of your chest feeling him practically in your stomach. Your whimpers quickly turned to sobs as he did it again, slowly dragging his length out of your wet, warm walls before pounding back in to you with a blinding intensity. 

Leaning down, Javi grabbed your arms, pushing them outstretched above your head until your wrists were crossed over each other and Javi had them both in his firm grasp, pinning you to the bed with the weight of his body and grip. It was like something feral had ignited inside him, brow furrowed and teeth gritted with a laser focus, snapping his hips to thrust himself deeper and harder, melting you to a helpless puddle beneath him, your cries of pleasure and desperation only egging him on more. 

“You want me to fill you up, baby? Then you’re gonna be a good girl and take every last fucking drop. Every. Last. One.” He huffed, syncing his words to each thrust, keeping a bruising grip over your wrists with one hand, and digging his fingertips into the meat of your hips with his other. “Tell me what you’re gonna do for me, baby girl. Tell me whose pussy this is.” 

“It’s yours, Javi. Fuck, fuck, fuck- it’s yours, baby! I- oh shit- I promise I’ll be a good girl and take it all. Want you to fill me up, Papi.” You sobbed, arousal seeping through your veins as Javi’s cock punched against your g-spot over and over, each stroke faster and more intense, blinding your body with pleasure. 

Your hotel room was drenched in the borderline pornographic sounds of skin slapping against skin, wet squelching of your pussy squeezing Javi’s cock tighter and tighter as you could feel the coil beginning to tighten in your stomach, crying out without any inhibition for your volume, Javi grunting and panting with equal intensity. 

“That’s my girl. You gonna let everyone hear who this pussy belongs to? Let everyone know that I’m gonna fill you up and get you pregnant?” Javi mewled, watching the way your eyes were nearly rolling in the back of your head, snaking his hand gripping your hip down between your bodies to rub firm and frantic circles around your clit to help push you over the edge knowing how close you were. 

As soon as the calloused pads of Javi’s fingers were pressed against your sensitive nub, you were seconds away from the brink of collapse, cunt clamping tighter and tighter around Javi’s cock, choking it with your velvety walls. 

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck, fuck, I’m so close baby. Don’t stop, don’t stop, please, fuckfuckfuckfuck!” 

Instantly, your orgasm crashed through your body, blinding white heat flooding your vision, pleasure shooting through every inch of you to the point you felt like you had left your own body. You could feel your body going limp beneath Javi, knowing he wasn’t far behind you given all his tell tale signs as you soaked his length with your arousal. 

Javi’s thrusts had forgone any type of rhythm, now sloppy and erratic, his balls tightening and tensing in his stomach, babbling and moaning in your ear, whispering sweet nothings before he found himself in the same state of you. 

“That’s it, hermosa. Cum all over my cock. Cum all over me before I fill up this tight little pussy so full it’s got no choice but to take. Oh fuck- Fuck, can’t wait to get you pregnant. See you carrying our baby. Gonna make you the prettiest fucking Momma-ahhhhhhh, fuck!” 

With one final stutter of his hips, Javi was painting the inside of your cunt with thick, warm ropes of his spend, keeping himself flushed as tight as he could to your pelvis, making sure a single drop didn’t escape as he plugged you with his cock, cumming so hard he couldn’t help but whimper. The weight of his body slumped on top of you, syncing your heavy breaths, the sticky and sweaty sheen of your chests pressed together as Javi planted a slow and sensual kiss on your lips, swallowing your moans in his mouth. 

“Holy fuck.” You half whispered to yourself, letting out a bliss-filled giggle.

“Jesus Fucking Christ.” Javi panted, quietly laughing along with you, gently brushing the damp and wild strands of your hair out of your face, “Fuck- You gotta be careful with that “Papi” shit, Osita.” 

“Oh yeah? And why would that be?” You teased, smirking as you raised an eyebrow at him and bit down on your lip, knowing damn well why. 

“Because if you keep that up, I don’t think we’re ever leaving this room.” 

After dinner and giving a few more pieces of furniture in your hotel room a good test run, the two of you had happily called it a night on day one of your honeymoon, eager to explore the rest of the resort as the two of you rose with the golden rays of the sun beaming over the horizon of your ocean view window, flooding your room with warm and welcoming sunlight. 

As much as the both of you were convinced you could have easily spent the next 10 days without leaving your hotel room, you made a pact that you would spend some time going to explore the rest of the resort after spending some much deserved post-wedding de-stressing in the sun by the pool, drinking as many mojitos and frozen daiquiris as you could stomach. 

And as amazing as non-stop sex with Javi would have been, soaking up in the sun poolside with a drink on one side of you and a shirtless husband on the other, you’d say that this was a pretty close second. 

“Another one?” Javi smirked, eyebrows raised at you as his brown eyes peeked over the edge of his aviators, gesturing at your nearly empty glass. 

“I mean… if you’re offering.” You giggled, tipsy after a few drinks and hours baking in the sun, happily holding out the remainder of your mojito for Javi to exchange for a new one. 

“I think the bartender and I are about to be on a first name basis pretty soon.” Javi laughed, shuffling out of his beach chair, grabbing his empty cup along with yours to bring back with him to the poolside bar that had been visited a questionable amount of times by the two of you since you had gotten to the pool this morning. 

“Yeah? Are you gonna tell the bartender the frozen strawberry margaritas you’ve been getting from him all day are for you and not for your wife?” You teased, pulling your sunglasses down to look at Javi, playfully rolling his eyes back at you. 

“Shut up. They’re fucking addicting. You had one, can you blame me?” 

“I’m just giving you a hard time, Mr. I Won’t Drink Anything But Beer and Whiskey. Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. Although, I’m sure Steve would get a kick out of knowing you’ve downed like, 7 of these since we’ve gotten here.” 

Setting down both of the drinks, you found yourself in a fit of squeals and giggles as Javi reached down to scoop you up out of your chair, carrying you bridal style to the edge of the pool before jumping in with the both of you, the refreshing cool of the pool water crashing over you as your bodies bobbed under the surface. 

“Pendejo!” You laughed, splashing Javi as your heads peered above the edge of the water, Javi shaking his hair, damp and clinging to his forehead from your added assault, grabbing you by the waist before you could go any further, shifting you to wrap your legs around him as he held you, childishly swaying you through the water. 

“Te amo, esposa.” (I love you, wife) Javi teased in a mocking tone, responding to your name calling. 

“Joke’s on you, because I wanted to get into the pool anyways. You’re lucky you’re handsome. Mojito me, Peña.” You splashed again, rolling your eyes at his over exaggerated kiss before he swam away, shooting you a wink while he waded his way to the poolside bar. 

It wasn’t long before Javi was making his way back, a drink in each hand, happily handing you your mojito as he got to the edge of the pool where you were sitting, lifting himself up to sit beside you and take a swig of his margarita. 

“Miss me?” He smirked, raising his eyebrows at you. 

“Terribly. Most agonizing 6 minutes of my entire life.” You teased, playing into the dramatics as Javi picked up your left hand, admiring the diamond ring and wedding band adorned on your finger before gently kissing it. 

“Sorry to keep my wife waiting. I hope that you’ll accept this mojito as a token of my apology.” 

“I think that’s a fair enough compromise.” 

After a few more hours and several drinks later, it was safe to say that you and Javi had definitely both been in better states than you currently were, too far gone to care about the potential consequences of tomorrow’s hangover to stop yourselves. 

“What time do you think it is?” You asked, sunkissed body sprawled out across the pool chair. 

“Wife O’Clock.” Javi answered, snickering to himself at his answer. 

“Javier Peña, that’s not a real time, you dork.” 

“Half past mojito. A quarter ‘til my next margarita.” 

“Jesus Christ….” You paused, one of the life guards crossing behind you catching your attention, “Hey, excuse me! Do you know what time it is?” 

“Uhhhhh, looks like it’s almost 6!” The lifeguard replied, looking down at his watch before continuing on his path. 

“6?! Oh shit!” You gasped, sitting up straight in your chair. 

“What? What’s happening at 6?!” Javi inquired, seemingly less concerned with whatever was supposed to be happening then that had you so riled up. 

“Javi, we're supposed to be at dinner right now! We made reservations at that italian place, remember?!” You grimaced, frantically starting to grab the towels and clothes you had scattered around the pool deck. 

“Oh fuck! Shit, uh- okay, here, lemme help you!” Javi joined in on the gathering of any item that belonged to you that he could find, tossing it into the bag you had brought down with you, hoping that you didn’t forget anything that had come with you to the pool. 

While the haphazard gathering of items was a good enough sign to any onlooker that you and Javi were more than likely intoxicated, the both of you didn’t realized just how drunk you were until you both tried to stand up out of your beach chairs, grabbing on to each other in a wobbly dance of giggles.  

“Woah, I think I drank a little lotta margaritas.” Javi stammered, laughing to himself. 

“Fuck, I did too. Jesus, how many do you think we had?” You giggled, face scrunching in anticipation of the number that was definitely going to be higher than you had intended when you came to the pool this morning. 

You could see Javi trying to drunkenly calculate his trips to the pool bar in his head, counting across his fingers in a serious concentration, tongue sticking out of his mouth, as if it was going to help him focus better. 

“Let’s see, I think after adding them all up… We drank a lot.” 

“If we can’t even come up with a number, that’s not good. Fuck, I didn’t even bring real clothes! Our room is so far from the restaurant, there’s no way we’re even gonna be close to making it!” You pouted, shrugging your shoulders in defeat. 

“Just put on the cute little dressy thingy over your bathing suit. Or just go in your bikini. You’re so hot they have to let you in.” Javi smirked, biting down on his lip as he looked you up and down, giving you his best drunken attempt at his bedroom eyes. 

“Unfortunately for you, I don’t think the other patrons of this resort want to watch me eat pasta half naked, ya sicko.” You teased, giving him a nudge to his stomach a little harder than you had intended. “Okay, cover up will have to do, I guess. Do you have your shirt?” 

“You don’t wanna watch me eat pasta half naked?” 

“As much as I’d love to, maybe another time, weirdo. Okay, we have to go! Or else we’re not getting any pasta, naked or not! Focus, Peña, focus!” You commanded in your best pretend stern voice, grabbing the rest of your things in your hands while Javi stood there, admiring you like the drunken, lovesick fool he was. 

“You’re so fucking sexy when you’re bossy.” Javi smirked, raising his eyebrows at you, “Okay, fine, fine fine, let’s go. Lead the way, Mrs. Peña.” 

If you didn’t feel drunk enough after simply trying just to stand up out of your pool chairs and collect all your belongings within a 5 foot radius of you, you sure as hell did trying to drunkenly navigate the resort to find the restaurant you were looking for. After asking several employees, you somehow managed to stumble your way through the hotel to find your intended location, “Ciao!” , one of the higher-end dining experiences the two of you had planned for your vacation. 

“Hi. We are married, and we are here to eat pasta.” Javi proclaimed to the hostess at the front of the restaurant, who was looking back and forth between you and Javi, riddled with confusion not only by Javi’s opening statement, but from the fact the two of you were nearly out of breath from running around every inch of the resort, clearly drunk, and still dressed in your swimsuits. 

“Ummmm, okay? What’s the name on the reservation?” The hostess asked hesitantly, flipping through the pages of names and times written down for seating tonight. 

“Peña. We were supposed to be here at 6 but we had a lil too much fun at the pool, but not enough fun that we completely forgot about dinner! We’re really sorry!” You explained, trying your best to keep your composure, biting your tongue to subdue your drunken giggles. 

“Yeah, like, so sorry. I had a lot of margaritas today.” Javi added, turning his head to let out a little burp at the end of his sentence. 

“I don’t see any Peña’s on the reservation for tonight….” The hostess sighed, flipping back and forth between today’s pages, clearly not amused by either of your antics. 

“Oh no… Does that mean we’re not getting pasta? Shit.” Javi pouted, crossing his arms over his chest like a little boy. 

“Oh wait, are- are you sure it was a reservation for today? I see Peña on here at 6 for tomorrow?” 

“Oh shit…” You and Javi replied, nearly in sync, visibly grimacing at the fact that you had spent the past 45 minutes in an alcohol induced frenzy, running through the resort to find a restaurant you weren’t even supposed to eat at until tomorrow. 

Whoops. 

“My bad….” You shrugged, sheepishly frowning as you looked back and forth between the hostess and Javi, “Okay, well, um, we’re gonna- We’re gonna go then.” You winced, grabbing Javi by the hand to slowly drag him away from the restaurant, hoping that the physical distance would somehow spare you the embarrassment you had just subjected yourself to. 

“You’re fine, just- We do ask that our guests wear more, um- appropriate attire when they come to dine with us.” The hostess scoffed, huffing at you and Javi, looking you up and down with your beach bound outfits and hands full of pool accessories as you continued to back away. 

“She doesn’t wanna see us eat pasta in our bathing suits?” Javi whispered in your ear, making you snort so loud it almost hurt your chest, trying to keep from bursting into full blown laughter before making it out of eye and earshot of the hostess, jabbing him in the stomach with your elbow, only spurring him on further, “She doesn’t know how sexy you’d look shoving a fist full of garlic bread down your throat with nothing on but a bikini? Her loss.” 

Now out of sight of the restaurant, you and Javi exploded into an obnoxious fit of drunken giggles, feeling completely idiotic for wasting nearly the last hour of your night in a whirlwind journey to nowhere. 

“Well, looks like no pasta for dinner tonight.” You sighed, playfully throwing up your hands in defeat. “I am starting to get really hungry though… Like too hungry to go back up to the room and change and then come back down and wait at a restaurant for more food.” 

“Yeah, shit, I’m really hungry too… Wait!” Javi paused, his face lighting up with excitement. 

“What, Jav?” 

“Didn’t we pass a pizza place on the way up to the room when we first got here? 

The grin on your face was now equally as wide, almost certain that you and Javi were having the same drunk recollection. 

“I knew there was a good reason I married you.” 

Somehow or another, you had not only managed to find your way to “Papa’s Pizzeria”, you had managed to successfully order an extra large pizza for the two of you to split, and make it back to the room without any pizza casualties on the way. 

Even a drunken you couldn’t help but realize how lucky she was to have married a man like Javi, and not just because of his excellent memory for pizza restaurants- What you had been through in the past hour and a half could have easily sent any other couple into an ugly spiral of arguments and blame they’d cast upon each other for “ruining” the rest of their night. 

You’d been witness to so many relationships and marriages where couples barely managed to genuinely enjoy each other’s company, let alone have fun together. Cohabitation drenched in resentment and unhappiness towards each other, forced proximity the only thing keeping them together.  

You were positive that there would never be enough ��thank you’s” that you could send out into the universe for letting you marry your best friend. 

Because what would have been a soiled evening for so many others, was quickly turning out to be a better night than you could have ever imagined, plans tossed out the window to sit cross legged in your king sized bed together, bodies draped in fluffy hotel robes as you mowed down on slices of pepperoni pizza, giggling over shared, drunken secrets with your favorite person in the world. 

“Okay, your turn now.” You snickered, shoving another bite of lukewarm pizza into your mouth, giving Javi a playful shove into the sea of pillows at the head of your bed. 

“I just went!” He protested, trying to talk through the mess of cheese, sauce and crust he was still chewing. 

“Nuh uh! I just did, remember? We got off topic because we started talking about the Farrah Fawsect poster you had in your room that your mom made you take down, but you were the one who asked me about who my first celebrity crush was, remember?” You insisted, pointing your half bitten piece of pizza at him, forcing him to hold up his hands in defeat. 

“Okay, okay! Can’t blame me for forgetting after thinking about that poster, though.” Javi shrugged, smirking at the thought of his 12 year old self gawking at the beautiful blonde actress hanging above his bed, “Shit…. Gimmie a second, let me think.” 

“I’ve given you plenty of seconds, goofball! Like all the seconds I spared you thinking about Farrah.” 

“Shut up. Okay,” he paused, taking another bite of pizza, “who was your first kiss?” 

“Really? Why, you gonna go hunt him down?” You snorted, feeling like you were gossiping with your teenage best friend at a sleepover rather than with your husband, Javi laughing along with you as he shook his head, “It was Jack Mullins in the 7th grade.” 

“Okay, and?” Javi prodded, smirking as he interrogated you for more information. 

“It was at a Halloween Party my friend Sarah had at her house. I’m pretty sure we were playing truth or dare, and all my friends knew I had a massive crush on him because he was the cutest boy in the 7th grade. So they dared me to kiss him and I did it. It was so awkward, and I had no idea what I was doing. Pretty sure we kissed while the “The Monster Mash” was playing, too. I was so embarrassed after that I cried in the bathroom and then walked home and didn’t even say goodbye to anyone. Didn’t ever think I’d speak to him again and he ended up being my date to prom.” 

“Wow. That was a way better story than I was expecting to get. “The Monster Mash”? Truth or Dare?” Javi chuckled as your cheeks turned red, watching your eyes at his enjoyment of your story. 

“Okay, I was 12 Javi, some of us were weird, awkward teenagers. I’m sure that you were very easily the Jack Mullins of your middle school and had girls at the door lining up to kiss you.” You rebutted, having seen plenty of pictures of teenage Javi, thanks to Chucho, knowing whatever awkward phase he went through was only a fraction of your pre-teen pain. 

“No, I wasn’t. I was a pretty shy kid. All my friends had their first kiss way before I did.”  Javi shrugged, now sounding slightly more embarrassed. 

“Okay, so what? They were 12 and you were 13? I don’t believe it. I would have had the biggest crush on you in middle school.” 

“I’m being serious!”  

C’mon, Javi, if I’m telling you about my Monster Mash kiss, I get to hear about yours!” You insisted, giving him the biggest fake pout that you could muster until he gave in. 

“I- I was 16 when I had my first kiss.” 

“You’re joking.” 

“Why would I joke about that?” 

“16?!” 

“Osita, you’re making it sound like I was 72 when I had my first kiss, not 16.” 

“Considering how cute you were, yeah, I am! Okay, spill! Now I need to know!” 

“I’m telling you, I was a shy kid. Didn’t really come out of my shell until 10th grade when I started doing swimming. There was a girl on the team I always thought was really cute, but I was too chicken shit to do anything about it. All my friends had girlfriends and dates to go to homecoming with, and I didn’t have anyone, so they forced me to ask her. She turned me down, told me she already had a date. I was devastated. Went to a party with the team after, got drunk for the first time because I was so upset, and ended up kissing my friend’s older sister, Katie. Made out in the laundry room in the basement for the rest of the night. My friend found us after he realized we both had gone missing and ended up punching me in the face and almost breaking my nose.” 

“Holy shit. That’s a way better story than mine.” You gawked, eyes going wide at the turn Javi’s story had taken. 

“I wouldn’t say way better, just stupid.” Javi huffed, “You do dumb things when you’re young.” 

“Well, you must have been a pretty good kisser even back then if she made out with you for an hour. Honestly, would have been dumb if she didn’t make out with you, in my humble opinion.” You giggled, scooting closer to Javi as you snuggled into his lap, resting your head on his outstretched thigh and letting out a big yawn. Resting his hand on your back, Javi pulled you closer, running his fingers through the sun kissed ends of your messy hair, smiling at all the tell tale signs sleep was beginning to creep through your body and the way you snuggled up next to him. 

“Okay, one last question because all these mojitos are catching up to me and I’m getting sleepy.” You mumbled, feeling your eyelids begin to droop as you curled up in the warmth of his body, comfort flooding over you from Javi’s presence. 

“Okay, hermosa. Your turn.” Javi cooed, his voice softening to match your sleepy tone, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. 

“If you could change anything about your life, anything you want, what would it be?” 

Javi paused for a moment, his fingers still daintily stroking across your hair and back as he thought. Truthfully, there were plenty of things he wished he could change about his past. It would take him less than a minute to come up with a list longer than most people could muster in a lifetime. He had wasted so many years of his life, bitter and remorseful about the things he had done, condemning himself to suffer the consequences of his actions. And yet, somehow, despite all of the things he could have said, out of all the painful things he wished he could go back in time to change, there was one answer that prevailed above all the rest, an answer that couldn’t have been easier to choose.  

“I wish there was a world where I would have met you sooner. That I would have gotten to love you just a little longer.” 

He waited for your response, settling into the silence until it was broken by one of your soft snores humming against his thigh, signaling to him you were sound asleep in his lap, not having heard a word you said. He laughed softly to himself, remembering the first night he had stayed at your apartment, and how it had ended just like this, conversation flowing until the early hours of the morning until you couldn’t fight sleep any longer, eyelids shutting as you fell asleep in his arms. How he watched you gently drift to dreaming, wondering if he was, too. That somehow, some way, the world had managed to bring the two of you together. And even if he wished he would have gotten more time to love you before you’d met, Javi knew that he’d be forever grateful for every minute he had left with you. 

Despite the raging hangover the two of you had the next morning after you woke up from your alcohol and pizza induced coma, the rest of your honeymoon had been some of the most fun that the two of you had had in years. You’d spent multiple days at the pool, soaking up sun on the beach and swimming in the ocean, eaten so much delicious food you were convinced you were going to combust, drank more mojitos than you’d like to admit, and had even gone snorkeling on a tour through some of the islands outside your resort. 

You also had been having so much sex, you were starting to feel bad for the rooms on either side of you. 

Everything about your honeymoon had been everything you’d ever hoped for and more, but with only one full day left of your vacation, you couldn’t help but feel a little sad that your perfect trip to tropical paradise was coming to a close. 

“What’s that look for, porbrecita?” Javi laughed, sneaking up behind you on the edge of the balcony, watching you watch the sunrise with your cheeks propped up in your palms, pouting at the way bright pinks and oranges were greeting the sky. Standing behind you, he snaked his arms around your front so he could bring your back to his chest, kissing the top of your head while his arms settled around your middle. 

“I don’t want our honeymoon to end.” You sighed, craning your neck just enough to look at Javi over your shoulder, “I’m sad it’s gonna be over.” 

“I know, mi amor, me too.” He softly chuckled, planting a long kiss on your cheek, the whiskers of his mustache making you giggle, “But what if I told you I have one more surprise for us before we go home tomorrow?” 

This made you swing all the way around, now chest to chest with Javi as you looked up at him in confusion, “What? I thought we were spending our last day on the beach just hanging out?” 

“Well we are, but what if I told you I rented one of those fancy cabanas at the end of the beach for us to use to celebrate our last day here?” Javi smirked, watching your face light up at his proposition. 

“Wait, actually?” 

“Yes, actually.” 

“But aren’t they like, super expensive to rent for the day?” 

“I mean… they’re not that expensive.” 

“Okay, the pause tells me that you spent way more money than you needed to on this, Jav.” 

“And what if it was? I’m not allowed to wanna spoil my wife on our honeymoon?” Javi grinned, gently cupping your face and playfully shaking it, making you laugh again. 

“Your wife doesn’t need to be spoiled, just getting to be here with you is more than enough.” You paused, giving Javi a little nudge as he dramatically rolled his eyes at you, chuckling to himself, “What, you goof?” 

“I hope you know that because you’re my wife, I’m planning on spending the rest of my life spoiling you, whether you like it or not. I’d give you the fucking moon if I could, Osita.” 

“Well lucky for you, a day at a beach cabana will do just fine.” 

While you never would have asked Javi to purposely spend extra money on things you really didn’t need to make your trip any more special than it already was, you couldn’t deny that spending the day in your own private cove of the beach in a luxurious cabana with food and drinks being served to you at your request wasn’t a bad way to spend the last day of your honeymoon. 

The daybeds in the cabana had made a perfect place for a shady, mid day nap for the both of you, lazily waking up from the soft kiss Javi had planted on your shoulder, exposed from your bikini top, freckled and sunkissed from days in the tropics. 

“I’m gonna go for a swim, Hermosa. Be back in a sec.” Javi cooed, gently stirring you from your catnap. 

“Mmmmmmkay.” You smiled, flipping over for another kiss on the lips before Javi slipped out from the flaps of your tent, softly blowing in the breeze. You sat up on your lounger, the sight of Javi in nothing but his bathing suit waking you from your brief sleep in a matter of moments. 

Even though you had seen Javi in nothing but bathing suits for the past 9 days, you were convinced it was a sight you’d never find yourself getting over. There was no doubt that you had always found him incredibly attractive, but something about this trip had skyrocketed him to another level of sexy you didn’t even know was attainable. You weren’t sure if it was the unbuttoned floral shirts, excessive time spent shirtless, his messy and wet beach hair, or just the fact that now you got to call him your husband- truthfully, it was most likely a combination of all of the above. 

You perked up, pulling back the fabric door of the cabana enough to watch Javi’s arms stroke through the ocean, popping his head above water with a brief shake before he was shallow enough to touch the sandy bottom again. As he sauntered in from the ocean, you couldn’t help but admire the width of his shoulders and chest, glistening from the sun and salty water. You let your gaze travel down to his swim trunks, feeling your mouth water at the way they hugged his waist and crept up his thick thighs. With each step closer to shore, you couldn’t stop staring at the way his trunks were clinging to his lower half, perfectly outlining his generous length. 

Javi must have noticed the way you were staring at him by the subtle smirk that had broken out across his face as he approached the cabana, eyeing you up and down right back. 

“You have a good swim?” You asked, feeling your stomach swirl as you took in every inch of him, glowing in the sunlight. 

“Mhmm. Did you have fun watching me swim?” He teased, tongue tracing over his teeth while he raised his eyebrows, knowing damn well the effect he was having on you. 

“Maybe. What, I’m not allowed to enjoy the view? Not my fault my husband is so handsome.” Your smirk was almost as wide as his, biting down on your bottom lip as Javi entered the cabana, letting the flap to the entrance close behind him before caging your body under his on the lounge chair, trailing hot, wet, kisses across your chest and stomach. 

“Say it again.” He mewled, looking up at you with his big, brown eyes as his kisses trailed lower and lower, watching as he began to settle himself at the edge of the chair between your thighs. 

“My husband is so handsome. You’re so handsome, Javi.” You sighed, feeling the damp patch in your swimsuit bottoms growing, soaking the fabric with your slick and arousal. 

“You’re so fucking good to me. Fuck, I’m so lucky.” He groaned, slinging your thighs over his shoulders, eyes still locked on you while he began to tug at the strings of your bikini, leaving your bottom half bare. 

There was a part of you that knew you should be worried about someone catching the two of you, barely concealed by the flimsy confines of your cabana, but the part of you staring at your husband between your legs about to eat you out seemed a lot more convinced that this was the best idea Javi had all day. 

“You’re so fucking perfect. Everything about you. I’m the goddamn luckiest man alive, you know that baby?” 

Your response to his question was nothing but a ragged moan, feeling him draping his arm over your hips to hold you in place as he slid two fingers into your heat. He curled his hand to reach the spot inside you he knew made you crumble before diving back in between your legs, beginning to lick you up like a man starved.

His tongue swirled against your clit, the firmness of each stroke and the deep press of his fingers making you writhe under his touch, shooting your hand down to grab fistfulls of his damp, curly locks to brace yourself as he ate you out relentlessly.

“Oh my god, fuck, Javi. Fuck, you feel so good. Fuck-” 

You could feel him switching tactics, latching his lips around your sensitive nub, rapidly sucking at the throbbing bundle of nerves, working his fingers deeper in your cunt as he felt you begin to clench around him. 

“Fuck Javi, fuck, right there baby- fuck, I’m close.” Your fingers were buried so deep in his curls, tugging just enough to pull his face closer to you as you could feel your orgasm building at the base of your spine, desperate for him to give you your sweet release. 

His thick fingers bumped along your g-spot, curving them ever so slightly in the way he had memorized like the back of his hand to make you come undone. The tingle along your spine quickly spread down your legs, pleasure building rapidly throughout your body as you felt yourself on the edge of release. Lifting his arm off your waist, he reached up to grab your hand laying out on the lounge chair, engulfing it in his grasp as he intertwined his fingers with yours. 

“Dameló, (give it to me) sweet girl. Let go, baby, I’ve got you.” 

You could feel the pressure inside you snap, the tingling in your veins quickly transforming into full blown pleasure as your orgasm swept through you. You gushed around his hand, cunt clenching down on his fingers as you came, losing all sense of inhibitions as you cried out with a volume much louder than intended. 

But with Javi’s fingers still curled, prodding against your g-spot, you had a feeling those cries weren’t coming to a halt any time soon. It was only moments after your orgasm had finished he was already on a mission to give you another, tongue lapping up every ounce of your slick as it pressed against your clit. 

“Javi, holy shit, baby, oh fuck.” You whined, bucking your hips towards his face and arching your back as he circled around your bundle of nerves, your moans and whimpers only egging him on more. 

Even after all this time, there was a part of you that still couldn’t believe how fast Javi could make you cum. He had memorized every twitch, every tug of his hair, every breathy whisper to know what made you fall apart under his touch, loving every second of watching you come undone for him. 

You could already feel the tingling of your next orgasm beginning to creep up your legs and into your stomach as Javi sucked at your clit, greedy for him to help you hit your second high. 

“Please don’t stop, Javi. Fuck baby, fuck, fuck, I- ahhhhhhhhh.” That was all it took before you could feel the waves of pleasure rushing through your body again, your pussy throbbing as your orgasm flooded over you. 

Your legs were all but jello at this point, trembling around Javi’s head, still buried between them. Your last two orgasms had been so intense, you weren’t sure you could take a third, but with the way Javi knew your body, you also were convinced it would barely take anything for you to cum again. 

“J-Javi- fuck, baby, fuck I can’t-”   

“Gimme one more, Osita. C’mon, sweet girl. Wanna make my wife cum one more time.” You nodded, looking down at the shine of your arousal covering his smirk, knowing that at this point, you were so worked up and overstimulated that just the fingers already inside of you really were all you needed to give him your last orgasm. 

Javi’s fingers had already sunk so deep into your cunt, already so overly sensitive to every push and pull of his hand, that the grip you had on his hand had become so tight, you could feel your knuckles turning white. You cried out his name as it fell from your lips, babbling incoherently as the third rush of pleasure crashed over you, gushing onto Javi’s fingers.  

“That’s my good girl. My perfect fucking wife. I love you so much.” Javi carefully pulsed his fingers a few more times as he felt you clench around him, making you hiss as he withdrew his hand now soaked in your slick, bringing the digits to his fingers to suck them clean with a satisfied smirk. 

It was only moments before his sly grin had quickly shifted to full blown panic, you, still too blissed out to wonder why he was scrambling to throw a towel over your bottom half and one to hide the erection under his as he sat himself in the chair next to you. Thank god Javi still at least had an ounce of inhibition left to see the footsteps of the server who had been periodically checking in on you strolling their way through the sand under the edge of the cabana, saving you both from what could have been an incredible amount of embarrassment. 

“Hi, how are you two doing? Anything else I can get for you right now?” Your server asked, peeking his head in through the flaps to see you and Javi trying your best to act as natural as possible. 

“N-no, I’m good. You good, honey? Need anything?” Javi asked, looking over at you as his hand ran over the back of his neck, trying his best not to grimace at the awkward tension stewing between him, you and your poor, unsuspecting server. 

“You know what, I think I’m gonna have another drink.” 

“Alright! Another mojito for you, ma’am?” Your server asked, whipping out his pad of paper to note down your order. 

“No, can you make this next one a Sex on the Beach? That sounds really good.” 

It truly took everything in Javi not to burst out laughing, choking on his own spit at your perfectly timed order, shaking his head at you in a humorous disbelief. 

“Perfect, well I’ll be right back with your drink!” 

“Thank you so much!” 

Once your server had disappeared, you and Javi erupted in hyena like laughter, the combination of your joke and almost fatal timing throwing the two of you into a fit of giggles. 

“You’re fucking ridiculous, you know that?” Javi chuckled, looking over at you as he shook his head. 

“What? It’s our last day, figured we might as well have a little sex on the beach. The drink sounds like it’ll be good, too.” 

Your mid-afternoon flight had made for an easy morning to pack up and soak in the last little bit of your honeymoon. It had given you just enough time to enjoy your favorite breakfast place, and have one more of the best blueberry waffles you’d ever tasted before your last shower (and shower sex) to get ready for your departure home. 

While you were sad your vacation had come to an end, there was no denying that every last bit of your trip was absolutely perfect, and even more so that you got to spend it with the most perfect person you could think of. You were convinced you could have gone anywhere in the world for your honeymoon and you would have felt the same- in the end, it wasn’t the destination that mattered, it was the fact you got to spend it with your husband. 

The fact that you got to spend every vacation together for the rest of your lives only made it that much sweeter. 

While flying would never be enjoyable, you were thankful your trip home was fairly painless, granting Javi’s hand some grace, considering you didn’t feel the need to keep it in an iron grip for the two hours it took you to arrive back home. 

You were also thankful that it was Steve and Connie who had offered to pick you up from the airport instead of Chucho, sparing you and Javi the same sort of awkward embarrassment you had endured on the ride to start off your honeymoon. 

Well, it may not been the same kind of embarrassment that you had experienced with Javi’s dad, but it was foolish of you to think that Steve was letting you get away scott free. 

At least he had managed to get creative with it, making a greeting poster with “Welcome home, lovebirds!” on it to help you find him and Connie in the airport crowd, making Javi let out a sigh loud enough that Steve probably could have heard it from the tarmac. 

“Hey! There they are! Welcome home, Mr. and Mrs. Peña!” Steve grinned, pulling you and Javi in for a hug as you found him, Connie following suit with a much less dramatic greeting for the both of you afterwards. 

“How was the honeymoon? Did you guys have a great time?” Connie asked, offering to take one of your suitcases, nudging Steve to do the same. “ 

“It was really nice. It was everything we could have hoped for. The resort was beautiful, the food was great, and the weather was fantastic. It really was perfect.” You smiled, looking up at Javi, nodding in agreement, reaching out to wrap his arm over your shoulder. 

“Thanks again for picking us up.” Javi chimed in, the two of you now following along behind your friends as they began leading you through the airport towards their car. 

“Don’t mention it, Jav. Least we could do.” Steve replied, reaching out to give Javi a little punch to the arm. 

“We’re super excited to hear all about your trip!” Connie added, looking back at you and Javi with a genuine grin. 

“Excited to hear if I’m gonna make good on my bet…” Steve muttered, laughing under his breath. 

“Steve! Seriously? You promised in the car you weren’t gonna bring this up!” Connie huffed, giving her husband a slap to the chest, and a grimace that clearly was the silent way to ask “Will you please shut up?” 

“What?! I put good money on it, I’m confident!” 

“Wait, is this the same bet that Javi’s dad was talking about on the way here?” You asked, looking back and forth between Javi, Steve and Connie in confusion, perplexed as to what you and Javi had to do with whatever bet he and the Murphy’s were in on. 

“Go ahead, Steve! Why don’t you explain?” Connie scolded, hands on her hips as she stared down her husband in all his big mouthed glory. 

“You bet on it, too!” Steve retorted, holding his hands up in defense, pointing at Connie to claim her as part of the guilty party to whatever was going on.

“What the fuck are you guys talking about?” Javi asked, trying to cut to the chase of whatever cryptic game they were playing. 

“After y’all left on your wedding night, we- shit, this does sound kinda bad when you say it to their face, huh?” Steve paused, letting out a huff as he turned back to Connie, grimacing in agreement, “Us and your family and your dad made a bet.” 

“A bet on…” You led, waiting for your answer. 

Steve sighed again, hands on his hips as he stared at the ground before looking back up at you and Javi, “A bet on how quick it would take after the wedding until the two of you announced you were pregnant.” 

You didn’t even want to know how red your face was turning, but judging by the sudden pink flush of Javi’s cheeks, you had no doubt you looked exactly the same, if not worse. 

“To be fair, your dad was the one who started it!” Steve exclaimed, pointing at Javi to let him know he wasn’t to blame for his friend’s embarrassment before shifting his finger to point at you, “And your brothers were the one who said we should make it a bet! I just wanted in on it!” 

“Jesus fucking christ.” Javi sighed, face in his palm as he rubbed his temples with the pads of his fingers. 

“I hope now you know we’re not gonna have kids just to spite all of you.” You teased, crossing your arms over your chest as you tilted your head at Steve. It was enough to catch Javi’s attention, eyes going wide that there was even a shred of you being serious, laughing to yourself as you watched the relief flush over him when you shook your head at your own joke. 

“Yeah, okay, whatever you say.” Steve chuckled, his voice oozing with sarcasm, simply shrugging before turning back around to continue your journey to the parking garage. 

Javi took his free hand, intertwining it with yours and giving it a gentle squeeze as the two of you trailed behind the Murphy’s soft smile on his face that despite his friends and families bet revolved around your sex life, there was a very real possibility that sooner rather than later, someone was bound to make their fifty bucks. 

“What’d you bet?” Javi asked, feeling entitled to know how Steve had gambled after he’d spilled the beans on his little wager. 

“Well, let’s see, y’all got married at the end of July, so July to August, August to September,” Steve paused, doing the quick math on his fingers as he calculated his answer, “9 months from now would be April, so I’ll be damned if you’re not tellin’ us your havin’ a baby by the fall and it’s here by the spring. And I know for a fact neither of y’all would be mad about that one bit.” 

And as much as you both hated to admit it, it was one of the few things in life that Steve Murphy was very, very right about. 

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem

@angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae

@kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadresa @milly-louise @jay-zzle

@the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper

@nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk

@msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler

@burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @pedr0swh0r3 @survivingandenduring

@javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[starmapz]

what you know - ch2: prom queen || r. sukuna

❦ ryomen sukuna x f!reader [college au] [ongoing series]

❝ you've heard his reputation and you've seen first-hand the way he's late to class if he even bothers to show up. paired with him for the most important project of the year, you choose to give him the benefit of the doubt- but maybe that's more than he deserves when your perfect grades depend on him, or maybe there's more to the aloof and irritable sukuna than meets the eye. ❞

❦ cw ; mdni, 18+ only. contains explicit sexual themes and content. use of alcohol. use of cannabis. use of nicotine/cigarettes. angst. hurt/no comfort. hurt/comfort. implied injury. family trauma. smut. slow burn. tags will be updated as series continues.

❦ additional tags ; college parties and themes. sukuna ooc warning as this is a realistic take on modern sukuna. reader is fairly preppy and implied to be smaller than sukuna, but he's 6"11.

❦ words ; 12.3k.

main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter - coming soon

The sun is high in the sky, warming your skin in the crisp air. The sounds of chatter and laughter fill the campus and in the distance a student is playing their guitar. Your thoughts, however, aren’t occupied by the warmth or the idle noise that fills the air around you. Your mind is preoccupied with Sukuna.

“Honestly, I just can’t get over the fact that you actually make it sound like you had a good time with him,” Shoko comments as you make your way from your lecture to the lunch hall. Of course, you’d left out any portions of the story that felt private, things Sukuna was likely trusting you with. Even without the shreds of vulnerability he showed you, your time with him is still so uncharacteristic for how Shoko would know Sukuna.

“Well… yeah. Honestly, I did,” you admit with a shrug, casting a glance at your phone to take a look at the time. “Hold on, I need to make a pit stop.”

Shoko hums in confusion, standing at the edge of the pathway as you casually jog to wait at the fountain for Sukuna a few minutes before noon. The autumnal breeze is cool as it hits your face, leaving behind a faint blush over your cheeks and the tips of your ears. Your fashionable but functional auburn knit sweatshirt hangs loosely over your shoulders to protect you from the wind’s bite as you shift from side to side on your heels awaiting Sukuna.

A minute past twelve, you catch a glimpse of him in the distance. His hair is pushed back as usual, his leather jacket hanging over his shoulders with a plain black muscle shirt and a pair of loose jeans hanging off his hips. His hands are shoved in his pockets, expression unreadable as usual.

As he approaches, you wave with a sweet smile. He meets your gaze, barely acknowledging you with a small nod. Coming to a stop before you, he drags his backpack down from his shoulder, digging through it for the GameBoy to hand it to you.

“Thought he left it at yours,” Sukuna sighs as he passes it to you.

Taking one look at the console, you shake your head as you slide your hands over his fingers and wrap them around the device for him. He scowls at you as he realizes your meaning before you can say it.

“You can keep-”

“No.”

You blink at his stubbornness, pulling your hands back to fiddle with the hems of your sleeves. “I really don’t mind. He’s a good kid, I’d rather it go to use than rot in my drawer,” you shrug.

“He stole, he doesn’t get to keep shit,” Sukuna insists.

“Then make it some sort of incentive. Get them to do some chores and if they do, they get it.” You smile at the idea, after all it’s somewhat of a gift for both kids given that they wouldn’t need to share any longer.

“It’s yours. I’m not taking it,” Sukuna stubbornly refuses, holding it out closer to you as though he’s trying to shove it into your grip.

Like that, it clicks and your gaze softens as you look up at the man towering over you. He doesn’t want to feel like a charity case, like he owes you something. He’s trying his best to get you to take it back for the same reason he hated that you paid for dinner. He doesn’t want to feel like he needs help.

“Why don’t we say it’s a gift for you instead of them, then?”

His brow twitches, somewhat taken aback, but he doesn’t say anything, quietly listening to you as you continue.

“As a thank you for saving me from being covered in oil. Now they won’t fight over your GameBoy and you can have some peace.”

You half expect him to boil over and blow up at you for even suggesting to give him a gift when you already paid for his dinner. And really, keeping you out of the hospital is more of a common courtesy than something that’s deserving of a gift. Yet, to both of your surprise, Sukuna just stares at the console, the air between you falling somewhere between tense and comfortable.

He’s fighting an inner battle to keep himself from blowing up, but he can’t bring himself to be upset with you. The part of him that does feel some sort of anger over the situation barely puts up a fight. He knows he doesn’t want to be angry with you just for being yourself. For being kind.

He sighs, shooting you one last look of consideration before he gives in. “Thanks,” he gruffs, shoving it back in backpack.

“No problem!” You grin cheerily. “Why don’t you come grab lunch with Shoko and I?” You ask, shooting a glance at your friend smoking on the path a few feet away as she waits for you.

Sukuna follows your gaze to Shoko before shaking his head. “Nah, I-”

“C’mon Sukuna,” you interrupt what you’re sure will be a meager excuse to not have lunch with you, making a point of not using his nickname in the middle of the campus. “Just for a bit?”

His eyes roll to the side as he gruffs out a “fine,” slinging his bag over his shoulder before shoving his hands in his pockets. He follows after you with a grumpy expression as you bound back to Shoko.

“Wait, is he coming with us?” Shoko asks, more in disbelief than anything else as you nod. She doesn’t mind, but Sukuna isn’t usually seen eating in the lunch hall. More often than not, he can be found with his group of friends tucked away in a back corner of the campus where it can’t be seen that they’re smoking weed.

Then there are the rumors that he’s been seen having a quickie in some girl’s car, something you wish Shoko hadn’t told you. You’re not even really sure why you’re so opposed to that knowledge but it makes you feel some sort of way.

You fall back into conversation with Shoko, trying to include Sukuna as best as you can although he doesn’t make it easy.

When you reach the lunch hall and grab your usual table, you pat the chair beside you for Sukuna to take a seat in as you and Shoko sit and pull out the lunches you’d both packed. You couldn’t be bothered with using one of the campus microwaves so you had meal prepped a bunch of sandwiches and salads for the week.

As more students begin filing into the cafeteria, the seats beside you begin to fill as the rest of your friend group finds their way to your table. Gojo and Geto sit on either side of Shoko, sharing an uneasy glance with one another at the sight of Sukuna at your side, followed shortly after by Nanami and Haibara, who hardly seem phased by the sight of Sukuna.

“Sukuna, right? I’m Haibara!” Yu introduces himself cheerily. You can practically feel the uneasy tension of the table as Satoru and Sukuna seem to have some sort of silent battle of egos. You can’t even really be shocked by it, they’re both about as boldly egotistic as it gets.

“Hey,” Sukuna replies without casting Yu a glance.

Sensing the uneasiness of the table, you do your best to lead damage control. “Sukuna and I have been working on a project together, I thought it would be nice to have him join us!” You introduce the idea to your friends, setting your palm on his bicep. Sukuna’s muscles are tense beneath your fingers, so you squeeze his arm gently in reassurance.

He finally rips his attention from Gojo, flashing your hand a glance before his unreadable expression lands on you. Slowly, Suguru pulls Satoru’s attention to him and the tension in the air dissolves. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as you take a bite of your sandwich.

When your hand leaves his bicep, Sukuna leans over the table on his elbow, chin in his hand as he stares blankly at the wall.

“Are you not gonna eat?” You ask with a tilt of your head.

“Nah, I’m fine.”

You pout, eyes filled with concern. Much to his dismay, you shove the rest of your sandwich in his direction. He curls his lip at the thought of taking more from you, shaking his head as he shoves your hand back. He can’t take more from you, not again. He can’t.

“I still have a salad, you can have it!”

Fuck, why are you so kind? And to him? Why are you so kind that he feels like he’s going crazy?

“Stop,” he grumbles, and he thinks if you were anyone else he would just walk away, so why does he tolerate how pushy you can be?

“Please?” You plead, tilting your head. You’re not sure what sort of miracle causes it to happen but with a glare, he snatches the sandwich and turns his shoulders to face the wall. Even as he makes a show of being a prick about it, you’re just glad he takes it at all.

You pull your fork from your bag with a smile and begin shoveling your salad into your mouth as you catch the look Shoko’s giving you. The way her brow is raised, eyes flitting between you and Sukuna says it all as you roll your eyes.

To your disappointment, Sukuna excuses himself shortly after finishing the sandwich, before you have an opportunity to chat with him at all. You call after him, but he doesn’t so much as acknowledge your presence. Sighing at the sight of him walking away without so much as a word to you, you can only hope you haven’t accidentally angered him again.

“What brought that up?” Geto asks curiously as the table focuses their attention on you.

“Yeah, since when does that asshole eat with us?”

“Satoru!” You kick the white-haired man from under the table. He sneers at you, crossing his arms over his chest dramatically as he waits for an answer. “He’s nice. I just thought he might want to join us,” you shrug. “He’s not an asshole.”

“Are we talking about the same guy? The guy who pretends he has charm for a night so that he can get someone to suck his dick at a party and not return the favor?” Satoru asks as he rolls his eyes.

“You’re one to talk,” Shoko teases with a knowing look, trying her best to divert the table’s attention away from your painfully obvious interest in the tattooed man as you fumble with your fork.

“At least I don’t flat out ignore anyone I sleep with afterwards.”

“Oh please, as if you’re any better. The way you greet people like they’re strangers that you didn’t fuck the night before may as well be criminal,” Geto scolds with a frown.

With a scoff and a roll of his eyes, Gojo drops the conversation, not thrilled at the idea of being roasted by the whole table. He may be the school’s heartthrob, but at this table he’s just Satoru.

You expect that to be the end of your lunches with Sukuna, but to your surprise on your way past the fountain the following day, you spot him sitting on the concrete’s edge. Nudging Shoko, you point at him and the two of you make your way over.

You walk past the courtyard fountain every day on your way to the lunch hall and you know for a fact that Sukuna doesn’t sit here. He’s in a baggy shirt and cargo pants, and you note that he looks tired again, his work likely wearing him down.

“Hey!” You greet him, bounding over with a grin. He lifts his head from what you assume is a notebook, his pencil halting as he looks you over and hums as a greeting. “You left so quickly yesterday, I didn’t get to say bye,” you pout, jutting out your lip.

His gaze flickers to your lips and back so quickly that you’re sure you imagined it. “Had somewhere to be,” he gruffs, shutting whatever he was working on.

“You should join us,” Shoko cuts to the chase, too hungry to watch you beat around the bush when clearly you wanted Sukuna to join your group for lunch again.

He contemplates the decision, but nods. When you grin up at him as he gets to his feet, he’s sure he must have gotten a head rush with how his head feels like it’s spinning. He’s not even really sure what he’s doing at the fountain to begin with, his legs brought him here without thinking twice about it.

He trails a short distance behind as you and Shoko discuss the strange lesson you had just gotten out of. Your professor has a habit of going off-topic to discuss his latest interests, which is frustrating enough as is, but on top of that, you have a test next week that both you and Shoko feel horribly unprepared for. Rather than learning about the modern revolution, you instead learned about your professor’s preferred bait to catch sea bass.

“Well if the test calls for the difference between deep sea fishing and lake fishing, I’m set,” Shoko scoffs, pulling a cigarette from a small box in her pocket and balancing it between her lips. She pulls out a lighter, sparking it multiple times to no avail, unable to light her cigarette.

Before she can groan about how her lighter’s about as useful as that class, Sukuna nudges her and hands her a lighter as he falls into step between you. Her eyes widen and she casts a glance at him before her lips quirk up into a grateful smile. Once lit, she hands the lighter back and thanks him as smoke puffs from her lips.

Sukuna hums, dropping the lighter in the pocket of his cargo pants. You don’t expect him to have anything to add to the conversation, but his deep voice catches you off-guard. “I could help.”

You tilt your head to look up at him questioningly.

“I’m a history major,” he reminds you.

“Oh!” You exclaim, lips pursed. “You know the modern revolution?”

“Mhm.”

“I-” You pause, staring straight ahead as you near the lunch hall. Of course you want to say yes, but one sidelong glance at his face reminds you just how little time he already has, and as is you’ve been taking up a lot of it recently. “Um, are you sure?”

He raises a brow as you hum and haw over his offer. “Wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.”

It almost feels foreign to hear the man most commonly known for his shitty attitude and poor attendance offering his help in tutoring, of all things. Yet, if he’s proven anything to you over the past couple of weeks, it's that you shouldn’t be judging anyone so baselessly. After all, he may not be the most eloquent with words but Sukuna is extremely smart and dedicated.

“That would be great, thanks Sukuna!” You beam, grateful that maybe you won’t fail your test next week.

You push through the doors to the student cafeteria just as Shoko is stubbing out her cigarette beneath her foot. You and Sukuna follow her to your usual table, though as you make your way there it occurs to you for the first time that you’re being watched.

Multiple pairs of eyes follow you and your salmon-haired new friend, many giving you strange looks while others regard you with jealousy. You shrink into yourself, suddenly too aware of the eyes on you.

It’s not that you aren’t accustomed to staring on one hand, Satoru and Suguru sitting at your table earns a lot of longing eyes in your direction and you would be lying to say you don’t get your fair share of lingering stares. On the other hand, you can practically feel seething anger and envy coming from the surrounding crowd in droves, because Sukuna doesn’t sit with others at lunch. Sukuna doesn’t offer to tutor people. Sukuna to most, is an enigma. A hot one, at that. To most, he’s a cold-shouldered asshole who people would beg to sleep with.

Clearing your throat, you focus on the lunch you’ve pulled out of your bag as you take a seat. It’s still from the same group of prepped lunches from the day prior, a sandwich and salad, nothing too fancy, though your stomach growls at the sight of it.

Sukuna drops his bag at his feet, leaning forward over the table with his elbow propped beneath his chin just like the previous day. The rest of your friends file into the lunch hall shortly after you, and aside from Satoru’s clear contemptful look towards Sukuna, no one seems to think twice about having him there. Yu cheerfully greets him and Suguru offers a calm wave. Sukuna doesn’t return either, but if either of your friends are bothered, they don’t show it.

Before you can take a bite of your sandwich, you glance over at the man leaning over the table beside you. His expression is tired and distant as he stares blankly at the wall off to the side. Just like yesterday, he doesn’t have a lunch, so you push the container with your sandwich in it towards him until it nudges his elbow and gets his attention.

Sukuna blinks twice before staring down at the container. He shoves it back to you just as he had the day before.

“Take it as a thank you for helping Shoko and I study?” You plead, pushing it back towards him and insistently holding it in place. He sighs a little overdramatically and takes the sandwich, taking a bite of it and returning his chin to rest on his palm.

“You wanna do that now?” He asks as he finishes his first bite, staring sidelong at you.

Your eyes brighten and you grab Shoko’s attention with a nudge of your shoe against her leg across from you. “Come review the modern revolution with us.”

Her eyes, along with several other pairs of eyes at the table, fill with surprise and she nods as she gets up and settles on the opposite side of your new study buddy. Pulling out your textbook and notes, you open to the chapter your professor had seemingly glazed over in class.

You learn quickly that Sukuna isn’t the best teacher. He isn’t patient and doesn’t love repeating himself, but he does know the subject well. In spite of his obvious scowl when you ask him to reiterate a point, he still does so even if it’s followed by a dramatic sigh. By the time lunch ends, you have a surprisingly good grasp on the first chapter of your textbook.

“You’re a lifesaver,” you sigh as Sukuna gets to his feet quite suddenly. He doesn’t say anything, his expression unchanging as he slings his bag over his shoulder. He nods in acknowledgement and before Shoko can thank him he’s already gone again.

“You like one weird guy,” she comments as she slides into the chair he’d been occupying.

Turning your attention in her direction, you raise a brow. “I don’t like him in that way.”

She smiles, eyes shining. “Yeah, alright. You just run to him every time you see him for fun then, huh?”

“I don’t run to him every time I see him,” you scoff, shoving your notes into your bag.

“And I don’t smoke behind the lab,” she snorts, laughing when you shove her.

“Such a bad habit,” you mumble, diverting attention away from you. After all, Shoko’s wrong. Sukuna’s hot, but you aren’t crushing on him.

Not that the following day does anything to prove her wrong when you veer sharply to the right at the sight of Sukuna at his usual (as of 2 days ago) spot at the fountain.

“Hey!” You greet him as cheerily as ever as you stop in front of him. He shuts his notebook at the sound of your voice, his aloof expression shifting to one you almost don’t recognize on him- mirth. He looks well-rested today all things considered, and his shoulders seem to relax at the sight of you.

“Hey,” he replies easily, shoving his books into his bag as he gets up to trail behind you and Shoko without even needing to invite him to join you.

“You know, I’d almost think he likes sitting with us,” Shoko whispers quietly to you, casting a glance at him. He’s watching your exchange although you’re positive he can’t hear you. You do nothing more than giggle in reply.

“Care to share with the class?” Sukuna chides with a raised brow.

Just as you go to shake your head no, Shoko happily repeats herself. “I was just saying I think you like sitting with us.”

Sukuna’s expression is unreadable as his gaze flits to you momentarily before it lands on Shoko again. “I don’t have to help you study if you don’t want me to,” he replies evenly, his tone just as chiding as Shoko’s.

Her eyes widen slightly and she goes silent as she turns to light a cigarette with a new lighter. Sukuna smirks in triumph, his chest rumbling with a teasing hum. She lets you know she’ll catch up with you in a bit as she decides to finish smoking before following after you.

“How are Yuji and Choso?” You ask now that Sukuna falls into step with you as you enter the lunch hall.

He rubs a hand over his face, casting a glance around him. “Exhausting,” he grumbles, stifling a yawn at the mere thought. “Yuji’s been giving the sitter a hard time lately about going to bed when I’m not home.”

“That’s kinda sweet, honestly,” you comment as you catch sight of Haibara and Nanami already seated at the table. “He loves you.” Taking a seat beside Nanami with Sukuna on your opposite side, you quickly greet your friends before your attention returns to your tattooed counterpart. “I still don’t know how you do it all, though.”

He sighs as he leans forward on his hand, the dark circles under his eyes evident. “I dunno either.” There’s something forlorn about his tone that causes your face to fall.

You take in his expression for a moment, wanting nothing more than to offer your help but you think better of it when you recall the way he reacted the last time you offered help. “Sorry, Kuna.”

Sukuna sits pin-straight as you use his nickname, an unspoken warning in his eyes. “Don’t call me that,” he growls, his voice lowering an octave as he shoots a glance at his surroundings.

“Oh, right! Sorry,” your cheeks redden as he relaxes slowly, letting the mistake go as he realizes it wasn’t intentional. You let out a breath as you realize he’s letting it slide, thankful he’s not taking it too seriously. “I think it’s cute,” you comment with a shrug as you pull out your lunch. “The name, I mean.”

“The last thing I need is to be seen as ‘cute’.” The word is sour on his tongue as he scornfully huffs his displeasure at the nickname.

You can’t help a smile at his comment which is somehow equally as cute as the nickname itself. Before you can tease him anymore, Shoko takes a seat beside him, pulling her textbook open to chapter two of the modern revolution. It doesn’t take long for him to dive into explanations of the demise of the military government that begin to make more sense with someone explaining the subject in more broad terms than the textbook states.

At some point in his lesson, you push your sandwich towards him and to your surprise, he seems to subconsciously take and eat it. You’re grateful to see that he doesn’t make a big deal of it either. Sukuna isn’t entirely aware he took it at all, his body acting on instinct as a natural part of the new schedule that came along with joining you for lunch.

It’s heartwarming regardless to know that to some extent, you’re getting through his tough exterior.

As your next class quickly approaches, you begin to pack up and tilt your head at Sukuna. “Will I see you in Art History later?”

The tall man casts a glance at his watch. “Yeah but I’ll only have a couple of minutes after class. Choso has some…” he stares at the ceiling as he wracks his brain for an answer. “I dunno. Some thing at his school.”

“No worries! We only have the visual portion left anyway. Oh! But I did refine the written part a bit, I was hoping to go over that with you.”

“Sure,” he agrees, and just like every other day he’s striding quickly away before you can even say bye. You let out a soft sigh as you watch him leave, staring blankly at the door until Shoko nudges you.

She has a knowing gleam in her eyes as she slides into the seat where Sukuna had been. “So, lovergirl. Care to admit it yet?”

“There’s nothing to admit,” you groan with a roll of your eyes.

“Sure, sure.” She lets the silence hang in the air for a moment as she leans against the table. “So since when have you started lying to your literal best friend?”

“You’re so dramatic Sho, I’m not lying,” you roll your eyes. “There’s just more to him than people think. He’s nice.”

“He’s nice to you,” Gojo butts his head into your conversation, only to receive two glares in return.

“Shut up, Satoru,” Geto scolds the white-haired man with a scowl. You shoot him an appreciative smile, but you’re taking back the smile almost immediately as he follows up with, “I’m listening in to this Sukuna drama, don’t interrupt.”

Idiots, both of them.

“You’re equally as unbelievable,” Shoko rolls her eyes at her friend, shoving her textbook into her bag alongside you as you both get to your feet to head to your next classes. “Listen, all I’m saying is that you’ve been around him a lot lately and it’s pretty fucking obvious at this point. So I don’t know if you don’t want to admit it to the dumbasses at the table, to me, or to yourself, but you aren’t fooling me.”

“Sho seriously, I promise it’s not like that. I just… feel for him. He’s a nice guy and has way more on his plate than any one person can handle,” you insist.

“And you like him.”

“And I like being around him,” you rationalize yourself to her, staring up at the ceiling as you leisurely make your way to your next class.

“You’re lucky I need to go the other way, girl. I could fight you on this all day.”

You brush her off with a wave and smile, sighing as you’re finally blessed with silence. It’s not that you don’t love Shoko, but her incessant teasing over Sukuna is becoming a lot. Not only that, but you don’t want to begin questioning your emotions when it comes to him given that you both have enough on your plate as is. Your attraction to him is surface level, and that’s fine with you.

–

When you’re dismissed by the professor, you quickly make your way up to Sukuna, who’s chewing on a toothpick with his nose in his notebook. You take a seat next to him, knowing you won’t have much time but hoping to at least get something together for the visual portion.

Sukuna casts a glance at you, keeping his thumb on the page of his notebook he was engrossed in as he shuts it and leans back. There’s a scowl on his face as he takes a look at the time. “Y’ got ten minutes.”

He sounds grumpy, so you try to make things quick. “Right, let’s start with the visual portion, since we have about a week left.”

Sukuna hums, sitting up and setting his notebook on the surface in front of him. He taps it a couple of times in thought before he opens the page to the one his thumb had kept a tab on. Curiously, you peer at the page as he pushes the book towards you.

It’s not a notebook at all, but a sketchbook and your eyes widen as you take in the stunning art scrawled across the page. All three art pieces the two of you had chosen have been blended into one piece, with the fallen angel at the center. Your jaw drops as you pull the book closer, examining the details and the way Sukuna has shaded everything.

“You drew this?” You gasp, tearing your eyes from the gorgeous piece Sukuna has drawn to take a look at him.

“Yeah. It’s just a sketch. I’d do it on letter size paper if you’re good with it.”

“Just a- what?” You gawk at him as you stare down at his ‘sketch’. It already looks like a damn masterpiece and you’re certain you could turn it in as it is and still get a high grade. This is better than anything you had in mind, the only thing you feel guilty over is that he’s actually done the whole thing on his own, and you doubt you can do anything to help. “How can I- I don’t know how I can help with-”

“So y’like it?” He smirks, leaning somewhat closer to you.

“It’s amazing! I don’t know how I can help, though,” you admit, looking up at him with a furrowed brow as you examine his features. A muscle in his jaw clenches as he chews on the toothpick that’s still hanging loosely from his teeth, dark eyes set on the page in your hands.

“You could look after the-” he pauses, glancing around momentarily to find that there’s no one nearby when he continues. “-the brats while I work on it.”

“Is that… enough? I mean, I’ll owe a good portion of the grade to you,” you point out.

“It’s fine,” he shrugs nonchalantly.

You can’t help it, but you’re pouting at him, and he can’t help but smirk at the sight. You want to do more to help, though a break from his brothers is more than enough for him to consider the visual portion to be a group effort. Besides, he knows you edited his written portion to sound more formal. He doesn’t realize it only took you five minutes, but that’s besides the point.

“Text me when you’re free? Oh wait-!” You snicker to yourself. “Email me when you’re free?”

In an instant Sukuna is on his feet, shoving his things into his bag as you giggle to yourself. “I’m leaving,” he grumbles, throwing his hood up over his head and popping in his headphones.

“Don’t forget to email me!” You call after him. He flips you off on his way out the door, your continued laughter to yourself met with stares from the few remaining students around the room. You aren’t oblivious to the fact that you and Sukuna are… an odd pair to say the least, but it doesn’t make the stares any less uneasy as you quiet down and quickly slip out of the room not too far behind Sukuna.

–

Sukuna’s email came fairly early in the morning before you woke up. When you checked it, you smiled to yourself.

sukuna.r@gmail.com - Saturday, 6:34 AM off at 4. come over after

englishlitstudies@gmail.com - Saturday, 10:04 AM You gotta make these emails sound less like booty calls. Sounds good though!! I'll be there at 5 :) 

You’re don’t expect to ear back from him given his lack of phone, so you get ready and go about your day while you wait for four in the afternoon to pass.

To your surprise, a bit after he’s off work, Sukuna sends you his address and a teasing ‘don’t threaten me with a good time’ that sends your mind spiraling more than you’d like to admit as you stare at the screen with a pounding heart. You don’t know how to reply to the email, so you leave it be, shutting your laptop for good measure.

It’s just teasing, anyway. It has to be.

So why the hell will your heart not slow down?

You drive over to his address with a bag of takeout given the time. Sukuna’ll likely be irritated by it, but at this point you’re willing to push his buttons to show him gratitude for how much help he’s been on this project, especially if you owe what you can only imagine will be another perfect grade to his art skills.

You dial his unit number in the lobby of his apartment at the buzzer, listening to the shrill rings from the box as you wait.

“Come up!” Comes Choso’s voice over the buzzer and the door beeps as it unlocks. You smile and make your way to the elevator, glancing over each unit number until you reach Sukuna’s door.

“Come in,” Sukuna’s deep voice travels through the door. You twist the knob and realize suddenly why it was Choso who answered the buzz, and why Sukuna had insisted that watching his little brothers would be enough.

Towards the back of the apartment is a table where Sukuna’s seated, clearly trying to work on the project. Choso is leaning over the edge of the table, eyes trained on the drawing as his face is practically blocking Sukuna’s. Yuji, on the other hand, is another story entirely. He’s dangling off of his older brother’s arm, going on about something he saw on TV today. You can’t help a bubbly giggle at the sight of Sukuna’s frustrated glance in your direction. He looks like his patience is hanging on by a very thin thread.

Yuji’s head whips around to face you when he hears the door shut and he cries out your name, dropping from Sukuna’s arm to bound up to you. Choso follows shortly after, waving at you as the youngest brother runs straight into your arms. You pick him up, supporting his weight as he hugs you while you smile at Choso. You kick off your shoes, making your way over to your project partner.

“How’s it coming along?” You ask, taking note that Sukuna seems to be using more than one medium, graphite and charcoal. Peering over his shoulder, you smile at the sight. Sukuna’s got basic shapes blocked out on the page, and the fallen angel’s face started. It looks so professional that you can’t help but wonder what Sukuna’s doing as a history major.

“It’s coming,” he grumbles, leaning forward on the heel of his palm as he eyes the way you’re trying to hold up his youngest brother, while also holding onto a brown paper bag and your backpack hangs off your shoulder. “Yuji, get down,” he scolds, crimson eyes sharp as the young boy clambers down from your arms and immediately begins excitedly prodding at Choso to get his attention.

“It looks amazing so far! I brought some stuff to keep the kids entertained while you work,” you tell him, rolling your shoulder in reference to your backpack. “Oh! I also brought dinner for us all.”

Sukuna’s eye twitches. You know what’s going through his mind right now, you can practically hear it, so you elaborate before he can snap.

“I just thought it would be a nice thing to do since you’re doing the whole visual portion of the project and all I’m doing is watching these two angels.” You make sure to emphasize that he’s doing more work than you are, that this isn’t a favor, this is repayment. All you can do is hope he’ll let it slide.

Your tattooed counterpart lets his gaze trail to his brothers as you call them angels, before it lands on the bag. He frowns, reaching out to take it from you and set it on the table in front of him as he looks in the bag. You know he’s not happy, it’s about as obvious as the sun in the sky, but for one reason or another he’s holding back his attitude, and for that you’re grateful.

“I’ll eat while I work. Leave me be,” he mutters, his voice strained as he shoots you a very obvious dismissive and irritated glance.

Your smile falters as he pulls a meal out of the bag before shoving it back towards you.

“Just let me know if you need anything,” you smile hesitantly before grabbing the bag and turning back to the two boys. They lead you over to the living room, split from the kitchen and small table area by only a counter.

Sukuna’s apartment is nicer than you expected. It seems to be a two bedroom apartment with a small kitchen and living room area. It’s obviously older and a bit run-down in comparison to your apartment but Sukuna’s kept it fairly clean considering how much work he already has on his hands. There’s an old flat screen TV facing a couch in the living room, as well as a shelf of mostly kids’ movies and a couple of horror films.

You take a seat with both kids excitedly peering at you as you open the takeout bag and hand each of them a small plastic bowl with ramen. Yuji takes it giddily and Choso quietly thanks you as they begin eating.

Your night is entertaining as you look after Sukuna’s little brothers. They’re both sweet and excited to see you, and you’re more than thrilled to find them warming up to you even more. When you pulled the old GameCube out of your bag and hooked it up to the TV for them, they were both over the moon and entertained for the rest of the night, making your part of the project beyond easy.

Glancing back at Sukuna as the boys played an old kart racer, you find yourself admiring the way his broad shoulders rise and fall with each breath, sharp eyes focused on his art. His jaw would move every so often as he concentrated on the project, running a hand through his pink hair in an effort to keep it off of his forehead.

As the night closes in on all sides, Sukuna makes his way over to the couch, leaning over the back of the couch on strong arms.

“Time for bed, all of you.”

“All of us?” You tease, peering over at Sukuna. His veins are protruding obviously from his muscular forearms and you need to divert your attention as your cheeks heat up at your own thoughts.

He smirks at you, eyes somewhat lidded. After a moment, he chuckles breathily and rolls his eyes, but his attention is pulled away from you quickly by his brothers. Yuji and Choso protest adamantly with their older brother, neither of the young boys wanting to head to bed ‘so early’ as though nine is early.

“If you two go get ready, I’ll read you something before bed,” you coax in an effort to alleviate any effort on Sukuna’s part. He eyes you curiously, and though you can’t see his expression, he’s relieved that he doesn’t need to argue with the kids.

“Promise?” Yuji’s eyes are filled with wonder as he approaches you.

“Pinky promise,” you reply, extending your finger to him. He wraps his own tiny pinky around yours in a silent agreement before the two boys go running off to brush their teeth and get changed.

Silence settles between you and Sukuna, one that sits somewhere between easy and tense. There’s really no way of knowing with him whether he’s still upset that you brought dinner or not as his expression gives nothing away. You can only hope his chuckle moments ago points towards the latter.

“Are you that shit at MarioKart or did you let them win?”

His gruff voice breaks the silence with a teasing lilt that makes your lips pull into a smirk. “I let them win,” you say with a fond smile as you glance at the screen detailing your seventeen losses.

“Yeah? The Prom Queen’s a gamer?” Sukuna’s got a sparkle in his eye that you don’t recognize from the past couple of weeks of getting to know him, but it suits him. His tone is as teasing as it is cocky and it’s exactly what you would expect from someone with an ego as big as his, at least now that he isn’t so painfully sleep deprived and toning himself down to handle his brothers.

You wonder if this is a glimpse of who he really is.

… Wait, did he just call you the Prom Queen?

“Prom Queen?” You scoff, eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sukuna raises a brow. “You tellin’ me you didn’t try to get elected Prom Queen or however that shit works?”

You open your mouth in an attempt to defend yourself but you can’t manage to formulate a retort. As any chance of sparing yourself from humiliation dies on your tongue, Sukuna lets out a breath somewhere between a scoff and a laugh.

“Figured. I bet you ate that shit up in high school,” he teases further.

“Whatever, it’s not something to be ashamed of,” you pout, staring down at the indigo controller in your hands as you fidget with the buttons.

“So why’re you actin’ that way if you’re not embarrassed?” Sukuna pushes, smoothly hopping over the back of the couch as he leans close enough to you that your cheeks heat up from the close proximity. His eyes narrow as his smirk turns to a grin when an idea worms its way into his mind. “Holy shit, did I clock ya? You didn’t just try to get elected- you were the Prom Queen, weren’t you?” He pushes.

Huffing, you let out an exaggerated groan. “Yeah, I was. So what? It was fun.”

Sukuna throws his head back against the couch in a laugh. A genuine laugh that makes any amount of embarrassment over how easily he’d read you dissolve. His laugh is hoarse, husky in the way his speaking voice is, and you can’t help but smile despite yourself as warmth pools in your chest at the sight of him at ease and enjoying himself.

“‘Course it was,” Sukuna agrees teasingly with a shake of his head.

“I bet you didn’t even go to Prom.” There’s no way you don’t have him read like a book too, Sukuna wouldn’t possibly have gone to-

“You wanna put money on that bet?” Sukuna’s got a smug grin plastered across his face as your jaw hangs ajar. Shocked isn’t really the right word for what you’re feeling right now, but there’s certainly more to the grumpy history major than meets the eye.

“You went to Prom?”

“Don’t sound so shocked, Prom Queen,” he moves his hands behind his head, leaning back as he spreads his legs like a slut. Not that you’d say that to his face.

“I’m not- I’m just-”

Saving you from the embarrassment of trying to defend your misjudgment of Sukuna, Yuji calls out for you. Setting the controller aside, you flee from Sukuna’s side in search of the room where Yuji’s voice rang out. You disappear from the aloof man’s sight as you peer into the first of three open doors, oblivious to his gaze searing into your back as he chuckles to himself.

After a couple of moments, he sighs heavily, running a hand roughly through his messy locks. What the hell was he doing letting you into his life so carelessly? Fuck, you were helping his brothers fall asleep right now. Even for projects, Sukuna never brought anyone home. He didn’t get friendly with people either. His secrets started and ended with Uraume, his best friend, and now somehow you had wormed your way into his life and the thought of such a thing had him squirming in discomfort.

He rolls his shoulders backwards, staring at the ceiling as he listens to the sound of your voice. You’re speaking softly as you read to the boys, giggling when Yuji begins to tell you you’ve said one of the characters’ names wrong. Sukuna’s eyes flicker mindlessly over small details in the ceiling. A water stain here, a small hole from the rocket toy Choso had gotten for his birthday last year. Small details, small distractions from the real turmoil in Sukuna’s mind that he was avoiding.

You know too much about him. You’re too close. Once this project is over, that’s it. All ties cut loose, he can’t have you so close to him. He’s better off on his own, the way things have always been.

Hell, he’ll even still help you pass your test. But once that’s done and this project is handed in, that’s it. He’ll disappear. You don’t belong in his life and he doesn’t belong in yours. You aren’t two sides of the same coin, you’re cut from entirely different cloth.

You round the corner quietly after several minutes of Sukuna deliberating, smiling softly at him as you plop down on the couch beside him. “So, how’s the project coming along?”

Sukuna looks down at you, an eyebrow quirked. “Did they actually get to sleep?”

Your head tilts questioningly. Cute. Wait, cute? Sukuna shakes his head as if to shake the thought from his mind. Shit, he needs to get laid. Get these thoughts out of his head.

“Yeah, why?”

“Huh.” Sukuna taps his finger on his thigh twice. They never fall asleep without Sukuna there, even if he’s in the apartment. The neighbor across the hall who helps with babysitting always mentioned the two boys would whine and cry until Sukuna returned to say goodnight. So what makes you different?

When Sukuna doesn’t elaborate, you decide not to push, bright eyes moving behind the couch to the table. “Can I see the project?”

“Mhm.”

Your excited grin pierces his chest in a way that leaves him dumbfounded and frozen to the couch, unable to follow you as he stares blankly at the win screen of MarioKart. What the fuck was that?

Skipping off to the table, you stop and peer over the table at the mix of charcoal messily strewn along the edges of the paper in a similar style to ‘All is Vanity’, one of the three pieces your project is on, while the rest of the piece is precisely detailed in graphite. The fallen angel at the center of the piece admires himself in a skull-shaped mirror while clocks melt and litter the surroundings in a subtle manner. It’s so gorgeous and meticulously detailed that it draws your breath from your lungs in disbelief.

“Kuna,” you gasp, eyes wide as you admire the piece that Sukuna did in- what, five hours? “This is beautiful.”

The sound of your voice snaps him from his stupor and he gets to his feet, eyes trailing the length of your body before landing on the art piece. 

“You think so, Prom Queen?”

“Don’t call me that,” you mumble, unable to pull your gaze from his art.

“Don’t call me ‘Kuna’.”

“It’s cute,” you insist, finally looking up at him. He’s frowning, eyes narrowed as he watches you sit down at the table and admire the art.

“I ain’t cute.”

You choose to ignore him, instead admiring his art once more.

“That work for the project?” He inquires.

Nodding eagerly, you grin at him. “There’s no way we don’t get a good grade. This is way better than anything I could have come up with.”

Warmth pools in Sukuna’s chest, unfamiliar as it takes root in his heart at your compliment. He scratches at his chest idly as if to rid himself of the feeling, humming in response.

Silence settles over you as you lean back in your chair. You know you should probably leave, but something piques your curiosity.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Why are you in history?”

Sukuna’s crimson irises flicker between yours in thought. He contemplates whether he wants to bother with the conversation at all but gives in and sits down at the table with you. He runs a hand through his tousled pink locks, sighing.

“My dad was a history teacher, shit’s interesting. It made sense at the time.” He doesn’t look at you, resting over the table with his temple against his palm.

“Why not go into art?” You ask.

He shoots you a sidelong glance, rubbing his hand over his face. “What the fuck am I gonna do with an art degree?” He asks. There’s no malice in his tone, he’s asking genuinely. “Shit’s no better than history for someone like me.”

“I’m not sure…” You deliberate. “Marketing or graphic design?” You offer, blinking at him.

He scoffs a laugh. “Shit’s impossible to get into. No firm wants a delinquent with attendance issues and face tattoos for an intern.”

Though he speaks matter-of-factly, there’s an underlying sadness to his tone, one that’s burrowed between layers of exhaustion and carefully built walls. He rubs his eyes, inhaling sharply.

“It’s fine. I’ll figure something out.”

“I think you could do a lot with your art.”

He lets out a deep sigh. “Maybe.”

“Really, I mean it when I say-”

“I get it.” He interrupts, a biting edge nipping at his tone as he shoots you a sidelong warning glance. You blink at him a couple of times, nodding slowly as you realize this is clearly a tough subject for him. Really, what subject isn’t tough with him? Sometimes you feel like you’re walking on eggshells around him, never knowing what’ll set him off next.

“Sorry,” you mumble, glancing at the art in front of you. “I just thought-”

“I don’t care what you thought,” he snarls, that last strong of patience for the day snapping. “Shit’s complicated, alright? Not everyone gets everything handed to them on a silver fucking platter.”

Hurt pangs in your chest, piercing your heart in a way you don’t expect. You know his reputation, you know he can be an asshole, but it’s still a side of him that you haven’t seen yet. You bite your lip, nodding slowly. “You really think that?” He doesn’t reply, fire burning behind his pinprick pupils. You scoff out a breathy laugh. “Right. Um- I should go.” Your voice is meeker than intended as you get to your feet and head to the living room to pack up.

Sukuna’s head is still leaning on his palm as he stares at the table, his chest rising and falling with each frustrated breath. He doesn’t say a word as the looping background music from MarioKart cuts out suddenly. You stand uncomfortably on the opposite side of the couch, shifting on both feet as you stare at Sukuna.

“I’m sorry. I’ll leave.” You throw your backpack over your shoulder, turning to the door and flipping the lock. One last glance at your project partner tells you he hasn’t moved. You press your lips into a thin line, nodding as you show yourself out.

When you’re finally gone, Sukuna leans back in his chair, slouching back as he stares at the ceiling. He knows you’re hurt, he’s not oblivious that he snapped at you. Maybe this is for the best though. He’ll be gone from your life before the week even starts, like you never knew him at all.

–

Lunch the following day brings an uneasy feeling that settles in your chest as you walk past the fountain. You need Sukuna’s help, but when you slow as you approach the path that leads to the fixture, he’s not there.

Your heart sinks into the pit of your stomach. Had he really been that hurt by your words? You hadn’t meant to get under his skin, you only intended to help- but that’s the issue with him, it always is.

Besides that, you’re not sure what’s worse- the fact that you can hardly bring yourself to be mad at him or that he hurt you in assuming that life came easily to you and you didn’t have your own fair share of struggles. Sure, you aren’t working two jobs and taking care of your younger siblings, but that doesn’t mean life is a free ride for you.

“Where’s your bad boy?” Shoko asks, scanning the clearing for any sign of the man in question as she slows to a stop beside you. You don’t even realize you’ve stopped when you turn to face her.

You chew on your lip, shaking your head. “I don’t think he’s coming.”

Shoko’s brow lifts. “Oh?”

“I think I pissed him off,” you admit, mindlessly tugging at the hem of your skirt. “Sorry. If you fail the test, then drinks are on me,” you mumble, hardly trying to mask the hurt in your voice.

“Are you alright?” Shoko asks, pushing past your insistence on buying drinks.

“Yeah. Yeah! I’m fine,” you shoot her just about the least convincing smile she’s ever seen.

“C’mon girl, I always told you he was trouble. Just didn’t think he’d break your heart before you even admitted to liking him,” she mumbles the last part, earning a scowl from you as she tugs you away from the fountain.

Plastering a smile on your face, you let her lead the way to the lunch hall, taking a seat in your usual spot. Nanami slides in beside you alongside Haibara, with Gojo and Geto only a minute behind them.

“You’re early,” Kento comments, surprising you as his mahogany gaze peers past you to where Sukuna’s been the past week or so.

“We’re always the first ones here,” you cock your head to the side, wishing desperately in this moment that you could be oblivious to the stares from the rest of the table. For all they know, he could just be sick. Or away for the day. Or at work. They don’t need to know you had a petty and stupid disagreement.

“I fucking toooold you he’s an asshole,” Gojo interrupts your thoughts with the most grating comment he possibly can and you have to shut your eyes and take a breath in order to respond evenly.

“Nothing happened, Satoru. We just finished our project and he doesn’t need to hang around anymore,” you attempt to defend yourself.

“Oh? So studying wasn’t a priority, then?” Geto has his own way of being equally infuriating. Although Gojo has a reputation for being a nuisance, it’s a wonder Geto doesn’t share that reputation.

“We-” You pause, chewing on your lip. “Finished. We finished studying.”

“I seem to recall you were only on chapter three,” Nanami comments, though his push is more out of concern for your grades than your personal business, so you don’t let it get to you.

“That sounds right,” Geto agrees, as though the ball has been passed back to his court. “Of five, isn’t that so?”

“Enough, boys,” Shoko scolds in a motherly tone. You let out a breath, thankful for the way she manages to wrangle in Satoru and Suguru. Gojo shoots you one last knowing smirk, entirely too proud of himself for something that doesn’t concern him. Geto’s final glance cast your way is more genuine. Although he enjoys teasing, it’s clear he does care. You don’t spare either of them a glance as Kento speaks up.

“I can help you study, if you need. I’m no history major but I can read a textbook and make cue cards.”

You let out a grateful sigh, smiling half-heartedly at him. “Honestly, I’d appreciate it.”

He nods as you grab your textbook and notebook, pulling it open to the fourth chapter in the modern revolution section and beginning to go over it. As you work through the chapter with Shoko and Kento, you mindlessly pull out your salad and sandwich, your attention wavering and your hunger dying as you stare at the sandwich in particular.

Something stirs deep in your chest, twisting like a knife. Not only had your attention completely faltered, but so had your hunger, and you can only hope the rest of the table doesn’t notice as you quietly return the sandwich to your bag.

–

As Friday approaches quickly, you prepare your project to be turned in, only able to pray Sukuna would bring the visual component on his own terms, otherwise you’d be fucked. Your professor is fairly old-school and prefers everything to be turned in personally, which would be fine in most scenarios, but unfortunately you know Sukuna and you know he has a habit of not showing up to class.

Maybe you should have taken the art for safe keeping.

No, that would be rude.

Sitting in your usual spot with your printed thesis and your face in your hands, you rub your features in an effort to clear your mind. Sukuna needs this grade just as much as you do, he’ll be here. You sigh to yourself, watching the clock as the minutes tick by and Sukuna doesn’t make an appearance. You can’t even bring yourself to pay attention to the professor, too caught up in your own thoughts.

With one last glance backwards, you feel your heart sink to your stomach in dread as you have to turn in your project without the visual portion. You’ve chewed your lip raw at this point from the nerves of Sukuna not showing up and the taste of iron is stark on your tongue. Running your tongue over your lower lip, you wait until the rest of the class has left to meekly make your way to the front.

“Hi, I’m really sorry but I thought Sukuna would be here and he has our visual portion, so I’m not really sure what to do.” Your voice comes out as a mumble and your professor tilts his head questioningly.

“He dropped it off this morning. He let me know he wouldn’t be at class and that you have the thesis.”

“Oh.” You purse your lips, staring down at the thesis as you set it on his desk. You can’t decide whether you’re more shocked he was so proactive, or hurt that you couldn’t talk to him. Shaking your head, you plaster a smile over your features and take a breath. “Well, here’s the rest, then.”

Your professor observes you for a moment before accepting your submission, placing it in a folder with Sukuna’s art that’s been carefully placed inside a portfolio intended to keep charcoal from smudging. Catching a glimpse of the art makes the memory of Sukuna’s frustration pop back into your head and you press your lips into a tight line, excusing yourself.

It’s over. You don’t need to see him again. You don’t need to talk to him again. You can and should forget about him.

Pulling out your phone, you text Shoko in search of some liquid therapy.

–

A full week and a half later, your life has returned to the status quo, which you’re grateful for. Sukuna is little more than a passing thought, just another project partner in another class. Back to how it should be.

You managed to pass your history test and although you owe a good portion of that to Kento, you can’t deny the fact that Sukuna had been a godsend in helping you truly understand at least the first half of the modern revolution. You had wanted to share your grade with him, but at the end of the day, you weren’t friends. You had to keep reminding yourself of that.

“I literally owe you my life, Kento,” you sigh as you stare at your grade on your screen. “I honestly think my parents would have killed me if I lost my scholarship over a bad grade in history of all things.”

He hums, a calm smile gracing his sharp features. “No problem. I’m taking that class next semester, so I suppose I’ll be prepared.” You grin, casting a glance at Shoko who’s scrolling the page in search of her grade.

“Oh thank god,” she breathes out when she finally finds her student ID, leaning forward on the picnic table you’re all at after your last class.

The days are getting colder as fall makes way for winter. Leaves coat the ground, the sound of their crunching a constant as students make their way to their next classes. A crisp breeze bites at the exposed skin of your ankles, reminding you to swap your cute heels for a pair of warm boots.

Pulling your coat more snugly over your body as the breeze nips at you, you barely notice the vibration of your phone in your pocket. Pulling it out, you stare at the caller ID with a furrowed brow.

“Who is it?” Shoko asks curiously as she takes note of your expression.

You shrug, setting the phone back in your lap. “Auto Parts and Services?” You shake your head, leaning forward over the picnic table. “Must be a wrong number. I’ve never used them and my car is fine.”

“Maybe they heard the way you called your car fine even though it rattles whenever you stop,” Shoko teases.

You roll your eyes, shaking your head. “It’s just a loose screw or something, it’s not a big deal.”

“I would argue a loose screw in a car is a big deal,” Nanami frowns, concern etched across his features.

You open your mouth to defend yourself when your phone rings again. Confused, you pick it up, staring at the screen. “They’re calling back,” you comment, your thumb now hovering over the green button as you contemplate picking it up. Maybe someone hit your car while it was parked? No, then you would be getting a call from your insurance, right?

“They’re probably just trying to sell you something,” Shoko shrugs. “I’d ignore it.”

Taking her advice, you nod and set aside your phone again, letting it ring. If it was important, surely they’d leave a message.

“Anyways,” you continue, “you passed?”

Shoko nods. “I don’t know how you did it, Nanami, but I owe you too.”

He smiles easily, zipping his jacket up. “You don’t owe me anything. I don’t mind.”

“I’m still gonna do something for you,” you insist with a grin.

As your phone rings- again- you start to feel as though you really should pick up.

“Is it the auto shop again?” Shoko asks as you stare at the screen.

You nod, shooting a glance at her with a furrowed brow and, against your better judgment, you finally pick up and bring your phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Christ, you have a working phone but just can’t be bothered to use it, or what?”

Your eyes widen at the sound of the gruff voice on the other line. “Sukuna? You know, you could have started with a hello, or-”

Shoko and Nanami exchange a glance at the realization you’re getting a call from the very same Sukuna you’d been moping over the last week.

He audibly huffs on the other line. “Listen, I-” he cuts himself off with another frustrated huff, struggling to get through what he wants to say. “I wouldn’t be fuckin’ calling if I had anyone else to turn to.”

“Did you just call to insult me, or-?”

Another huff. “No. I didn’t mean it like that,” he sighs, shuffling on the other line. “Listen, I need-” he pauses, the silence on the line tense as he contemplates what to say. He harshly rubs his hand over his features as he finally manages to find his words. “I need a favor.”

Your jaw parts and you stare blankly at the picnic table. You should turn him down, you tell yourself. He should reap what he sowed in choosing to be rude to you, but are you even still mad about that? Were you ever mad over it? It hurt, sure, but a part of you hopes he didn’t mean to lash out. Didn’t mean what he said. You knew his boundaries and you’d pushed, even if only a little bit.

Sighing, you wonder if you’ll regret this. “What’s the favor?”

“The woman across the hall usually watches the brats while I work but Yuji just got sick and she’s ancient and doesn’t want to get sick too,” Sukuna begins to explain.

Stifling a halfhearted laugh, you shake your head. “You can’t say that about her, Sukuna,” you mumble over how he refers to the woman.

“What?” His smirk is audible in his tone. “It’s true. The point is, I can’t leave them alone. Choso can’t cook and I don’t-”

He doesn’t have money for them to order and he doesn’t want to leave them alone. You can fill in the details without him needing to embarrass himself any further than you’re sure he’s already feeling.

“I can… I can watch them,” you agree quietly. Shoko and Nanami exchange another glance.

You hear shuffling on the other side as Sukuna lets out a breath of relief. “I’ll owe you one, or whatever,” he grumbles, covering the shop’s phone with his hand as you hear someone call his name. His voice is muffled as he tells them he’ll be right there. “When you get there, just let Cho know it’s you on the call box. He’ll let you in.”

“Oh, um, yeah! Okay. When will you be back?”

He pauses for a moment. “Ten.”

You pull your phone away from your face, blinking at the clock. It’s just past three, you’ll be with them most of the night, which you don’t mind, but the lingering feeling of discomfort over your last interaction with Sukuna is one that you don’t particularly want to face now that you’ve mostly gotten over it.

“Okay, I’ll head over now.”

“Fuck, I owe you.”

“I don’t mind,” you insist. “You’re sure Choso will let me in?”

“He’s a smart kid,” Sukuna shrugs, though you can’t see it. “I gotta go. This is the shop’s number, call if ya need anything.”

“Right,” you barely manage to get out, chewing on your lip as the line disconnects.

“What just happened?” Shoko asks in disbelief, four pairs of eyes glued to you as they wait for an answer.

You glance between Shoko and Nanami. You can’t tell the truth, given that you’d promised Sukuna you wouldn’t tell anyone he was the sole caretaker of his little brothers and Kento didn’t know, so you make your reply as simple as possible.

“I’m just doing him a favor.”

“You just got over him and you’re gonna make me hear about him again? You have such a soft spot for him.” Shoko complains, as if this is about her.

“There was nothing to get over,” you groan, zipping up your coat and getting to your feet. You fumble with your keys in your pockets.

“Be careful,” Kento hums, aware he’s missing several pieces of the puzzle that is your relation to Sukuna, but still caring in the way only Nanami knows how.

You shoot him a grateful smile before making your way to your car.

The drive to Sukuna’s place has grown somewhat familiar as you pull into a guest spot at his apartment. Walking up to the buzzer, you hit the unmarked button for Sukuna’s apartment. It clicks as someone picks up, Choso’s voice sounding tired as he answers your buzz with a ‘hello?’

“Hey Cho, it’s me!” You reply, thankful he lets you in when the door buzzes. You make your way up to the apartment and twist the doorknob, which Choso has already unlocked for you.

The sound of distant muffled crying has you wincing as Choso peers up at you with a grateful expression, immediately clinging to your waist as he hugs you.

“Oh-!” You let out a small noise in surprise as he squeezes you tight.

“I dunno what to do…” He mumbles against you, pointing towards his shared bedroom with his little brother.

“That’s okay, I’ve got you,” you assure him with a gentle hug before making your way into his room with Choso latched to your leg. Yuji’s bawling at the foot of his bed, arms wrapped around his knees as he wipes away his tears.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you coo, gently stroking his hair. “Can you tell me what hurts?”

Tears trail down Yuji’s cheeks as he stops wailing at the sight of you, sniffling and wiping at his face. “Where’s Kuna?”

“Your brother’s at work, honey,” you tell him softly, kneeling down to his level to get a better look at him. You press the back of your hand to his forehead and sigh. The poor kid’s running a high fever and you doubt he can keep anything down. His breathing is uneven as the news of Sukuna being at work goes over less than ideally and he starts sobbing again. “Shh, it’s okay,” you coo with a gentle smile. “Can you tell me what hurts?” You repeat.

He quiets down for another moment, hiccuping as he points to his stomach.

You nod in understanding. “Were you sick?”

He nods, sniffling.

“That’s okay, why don’t we get you in bed?”

Yuji complies immediately, letting you pick him up and tuck him into his bed.

“Choso, do you guys have any medicine?”

The older of the two boys nods from where he’s still stuck to your leg, pointing towards the washroom. He lets go of your leg finally to lead the way, opening the cabinet beneath the sink. There’s a very messy variety of different medications and hygiene products for you to sift through until you come across children’s tylenol. That should work, right?

Returning to Yuji, you pour some tylenol into the measuring cup it comes with and hold it up for him to drink. He makes a face, though over the amount of tears and snot dripping down his face, it hardly comes across as anything but sadness.

Your heart pangs as he takes the tylenol before burrowing beneath the covers and sniffling again. Sitting on the edge of his bed, you gently rub his back. “Are you hungry at all?”

He shakes his head no. “Cold.”

“Do you have blankets, Cho?”

Choso blinks at you with a devastatingly sad look of concern before padding out of the room. The sound of a thump has you wincing and you get up to peek out of the room in time to see a walking pile of blankets. With a lopsided smile, you pick up the top blanket and find the young boy’s hair standing straight from static. Pulling the blankets from his short arms, you glance back at the pile of remaining sheets, blankets, towels, and other linens.

“Can you go put the rest of that back? I’ve got this.” Choso nods, turning away. “Thank you!” You call after him, making your way back to Yuji. With a flick of your wrists, you spread a couple of blankets over Yuji’s bed, tucking them in around him before setting the last one at the foot of the bed. “How’s that, honey?” You ask with a sympathetic smile.

Yuji manages a sickly groan, huddling further under the blankets. You glance around the room, finding a large tiger plush and handing it to him. Like an eel awaiting its prey, he reaches for it and pulls it into his pile of blankets, burying his face into it. You smile at him before shutting off the lights and backing away to the door.

“Let me know if you need anything, I’ll be in the living room with your brother,” you let the young boy know softly before shutting the door.

Choso shifts on his feet outside the door, clinging to your side again.

“Hey Cho, did you have lunch?” You ask, gently rubbing his back.

You can feel him nod against you, clinging to you tighter as you attempt to make your way to the living room, dragging your leg and the boy along with you.

“What did you wanna do?” You ask as you finally manage to drag him to the couch, relieved when he finally lets go of you to plop down on the couch beside you.

“Did you bring your GameCube?”

“No, I’m sorry sweetie,” you frown, “your brother called me while I was at school.”

“That’s okay. Can we watch a movie?”

“Sure! What did you wanna watch?” You beam at him, getting to your feet to head over to the shelf of movies. Scanning the spines of the films, there’s a few that stand out as very obviously Sukuna’s, while the rest seem to be for the boys. That being said, you also notice they’re all older, from the same era as when you were their age and you wonder if they were once Sukuna’s as well.

“Can we watch the Land Before Time?”

Ohhh he wants you to cry. “Of course!” You grin, mentally preparing yourself to watch it. You fumble under the TV for the DVD player until the movie begins before settling down to watch it, thankful to see that Choso seems to relax once it’s on, no longer occupied with worrying about his little brother.

The rest of the evening goes by without a hitch as you make pasta for Choso and soup for Yuji, who manages at least a couple of bites before going back to sleep. The older of the two boys continues to cling to you, insisting on a movie marathon. It’s getting late, but the poor boy’s clearly still concerned and you don’t have the heart to tell him to get some sleep.

With The Nightmare Before Christmas playing in the background and the clock ticking closer and closer to ten, your mind wanders to how your conversation with Sukuna could possibly go. It doesn’t feel as though there’s a world where it goes over well, so all you can truly do is sit and boil in your own thoughts, waiting for the click of the door as Choso slowly drifts off to sleep clinging to your arm.

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❦ a/n ; poor yuji :(( i hope you enjoyed!! chapter 3 will take a bit longer as i'm going to a work conference all week so i won't have much time to work on it. as always, likes, comments, and reblogs are super appreciated <33

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writing & format © starmapz. art © 3-aem. dividers © adornedwithlight & cafekitsune

[w4ndal0ver]

The Art of Submission (1)

[minors don't interact, 18+]

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: As a growing author, you're grappling with a frustrating writer's block while trying to craft your next lesbian erotic novel. With a lack of personal experience holding you back, inspiration seems just out of reach. But when a captivating neighbour steps in, offering unexpected support and a tantalizing invitation to explore the depths of desire, you find yourself on a journey that blurs the lines between reality and fiction, leading to a discovery that you definitely weren't expecting.

content warnings: lead up, talk of submission and sadomasochism, flirty touches and conversation.

note: This is the first chapter of a new story that I'm writing, any ideas or inspiration would be appreciated so if you have any ideas feel free to drop them in my requests, other than that buckle in! (I will try to get the next part out as soon as possible)

The Art of Submission - Chapter One 

The soft glow of your laptop illuminated the cluttered desk, your cursor blinking impatiently on an empty document. You stare aimlessly at the screen, your fingers hovering above the keys waiting desperately for inspiration to strike. It had been hours since you sat down, hoping to squeeze out something, but your mind felt trapped and foggy, yet every time you wrote a sentence, you only sank deeper into it. The end result had started to feel completely out of reach.

Your last book had done okay. It wasn’t groundbreaking or a bestseller, but it was just enough to remind you that you could do this. You could write and publish your writing and make some level of a name for yourself in the world of lesbian erotica. Not that it was hard considering the low level media attention that your field rarely gained. The reviews had been mostly kind and the sales had trickled in steadily enough that you were managing to stay afloat, but nowhere near the level of success that you first imagined when you wrote your first novel. 

Your apartment is a mess, the evidence of your creative block scattered pointlessly across the room. Empty coffee mugs crowded your desk, some still holding the cold remnants of yesterday's caffeine-fueled desperation. You’d also not left the apartment in days, time becoming a blur of restless nights and sluggish mornings, avoiding stepping outside. You found it was easier to stay here, trapped within the confines of your own thoughts, hoping something would come to you. 

You lean back in your chair, groaning in frustration. You thought about getting up and attacking the massive pile of laundry that had sat abandoned in the corner for days, but you quickly pushed that aside, realising that there was no point until you at least got another page written. The cursor was blinking furiously at you and you felt yourself going slightly insane. You wanted to smash your head into the keyboard, but instead you imagined yourself doing it which brought a small smile to your lips. 

It was at this moment that a sharp knock sounded at the door, you spin in your chair, frowning as you try to glance over at the entrance to the apartment. You wracked your brain trying to remember if you’d ordered something, but you couldn’t work it out and you knew you definitely wasn’t expecting company. You push yourself out of the chair with a deflated sigh, stretching your legs out as you go towards the door. The knock came again, firmer this time. Whoever it was, they weren’t planning on leaving. 

Shuffling to the door, you don’t bother to smooth the wisps of your hair or fix the crumples in your shift, you just swung it open. 

“Hey, I hope I’m not intruding, but I thought you could use a break.”

You blink in shock, momentarily stunned. Wanda stood in your doorway, her familiar yet distant neighbour from across the hall. You knew her as the woman who you occasionally exchange small talk with in the corridor, but there she was holding a bottle of wine like she’d been planning this all along. Her reddish-brown hair flowed over her shoulders, perfectly catching the dimming light of the room, the colours of her striped blouse almost too cheerful for the cluttered mess that she would soon walk into. 

“I can basically hear your sighs from across the wall. Writer's block?” Wanda smiled, her green eyes warm but with a hint of darkness behind them, as if she knew something that you didn’t. She stepped further inside, her presence filling the small apartment yet you didn’t move to stop her, you didn’t feel the need to. 

“Yeah no of course, come on in.” You say, brows furrowed in confusion. You hadn’t told anyone that you were trying to write again, come to think of it, you hadn’t even told her that you were a writer in the first place. Suddenly, your cheeks flushed pink in the realisation that she knew who you were. 

Wanda set the bottle down on the counter, next to a half empty cup. The sound of it landing felt louder than it should, cutting through the quiet tension that was arising around the pair of them. 

“You’ve been in here too long, I thought wine might be a good excuse to step away from the screen for a bit.” Wanda spoke with a caring tone beneath her soft voice, yet you found it unsettling in how she acted so naturally, offering up solutions to problems that you hadn’t even told her about. 

Wanda always seemed to have a way of appearing when you least expected it, offering little moments of relief, like that time she helped carry groceries up the stairs. She was friendly, sure, but there was an edge to her friendliness. A knowing look, like she was always a step ahead of you, just waiting for the right moment to weave her way into your life. You didn’t know why, but you weren’t exactly complaining about it. 

“You know, I’ve read some of your stuff.” There it was, you freeze, your heart skipping a beat. Your eyes dart to Wanda’s face, as if you were searching for any hint of a joke but instead you’re met with a calm, confident smile. That wasn’t what you were expecting. You’d always presumed that your audience was horny teenage girls, but Wanda was a mind-blowingly gorgeous woman, the exact opposite of who she was expecting. Besides that, your books lived in a cosy corner of the erotic fiction world, usually flying under the radar, definitely not the type of thing a neighbour casually brings up over wine. 

“You have?” You ask, trying to sound casual but your voice comes out a little more strained than intended. You walk around the kitchen counter where Wanda had perched herself, your hands almost shaking from the unexpected social encounter. You reach into the cupboard, finding two wine glasses and placing them down between the two of you. 

“Mhm.” Wanda leans against the counter, an almost playful spark in her eye, “You’re good. The way you write about submission, it’s real, raw. It’s incredible.” 

You feel your cheeks warm up, unsure on how to respond. This was the first piece of praise you’d received from inside your own kitchen. You felt your pulse quicken, the fact that Wanda had read those words, the intimate fantasies that you’d put into your stories was making this situation way more intimate than deemed necessary. 

You literally were stuck in a state of speechlessness, but Wanda was acting like she expected this. She lets you stand with your back against the counter opposite her, fiddling with the ends of your hair while she pulls up a stool. “Corkscrew?” 

“Oh yeah, of course.” As you turned you wanted to slap yourself, why were no words coming out, you are absolutely embarrassing yourself, yet the redhead was still gleaming at you as if you were adding something to the interaction. You rummage through your drawers to find what you needed before handing it over to her. 

“You know, when I first picked up one of your books I wasn’t sure what to expect.” She chuckled, tilting her head thoughtfully as she worked on opening up the bottle. “But then, well, I couldn’t put it down. Dangerous stuff.”

This time you manage a small laugh, still processing the idea of Wanda - the beautiful and put-together woman from across the hall - curled up reading the things you’d written. “I guess it’s not what most people expect from their neighbours.” Once again you’d tried so hard to sound casual that your voice was wavering in response. 

“Well maybe we just don’t know our neighbours as well as we think we do.” With that, she pulled the cork from the bottle and filled up the two glasses, leaning in a little closer as a smile grew into a smirk. 

You glance down at her as you reach for the glass, “I never really imagined someone like you reading my books you know.” You say sheepishly, taking a sip of the wine hoping to mask the nerves that were creeping up your spine. 

Wanda raises an eyebrow, her smirk more prominent now. “Someone like me?”

You shrug, avoiding her gaze as you fiddle with the stem of your glass. “You know, my audience is usually different. Younger maybe.”

She chuckles softly at your response, “Are you saying I’m too old for erotic fiction?” Her tone is teasing, yet there's a glint in her eye that makes your palms sweat. Her comment about submission still lingers in the air, your cheeks continually growing warmer. 

“No! No, I just-” You stammer, flustered by how casually she was controlling this conversation, “I didn’t think you’d be into, you know, that kind of thing.” Your voice is desperately pathetic and all you can do is smile shyly, trying to lighten the tension that was twisting in your chest. 

Wanda takes a slow slip from her glass, her eyes never once leaving yours. “Don’t assume you know what I’m into,” she comments, voice soft but full of unspoken meaning. There's that look again, the one that says she knows more than she lets on. “But seriously, I thought your writing was refreshing. You don’t hold back and that's what makes it compelling.”

You feel the blush rise again, her praise catching you off guard. “Thanks, I guess.” You mumble, feeling a little more exposed than you’d like. 

She waves a hand in the air, brushing off the awkwardness as she crosses her leg over the other. “I could tell you were stuck though,” She adds, swiftly changing the topic with a casual flick of her wrist. “So I figured I’d rescue you from yourself for a bit.”

It was your turn to raise an eyebrow, “Rescue me?”

She nods, her eyes twinkling. “I’ve been hearing you pace around for days, It’s not hard to guess you’ve got yourself into a block.” 

You can’t help but laugh, the conversation switching to something that was making you more comfortable to talk about. “Yeah, something like that. I’ve been staring at that god stupid screen for hours.” 

Wanda shakes her head, mock disapproval on her face. “That’s no way to get inspired, sometimes you just need to step away.” She gestures to the wine and the dim, cosy lighting of the room. “This is your moment to relax.” 

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight on your chest lighten ever so slightly. “I guess I have been driving myself crazy.” This would usually be an overstep in a first proper conversation, but the curious look behind Wanda’s eyes made you feel like she was making you say all of this, like she was dragging the vulnerability out of you. 

Wanda smiles at your openness, a knowing, almost secretive smile as she lifts her glass to her lips again. “There's a reason they say inspiration strikes when you least expect it, maybe you just need to stop expecting it.”

The laughs were more relaxed now, “Oh, is that how it works?” You tease playfully, finally getting to a point where your nerves have stilled out. You could feel the tension in your body loosen just a little, but Wanda’s gaze still never faded.

She grins at your response, swirling the wine around in her glass. “Well sometimes it helps to just let go.” Her eyes sparkling as she watches you. “So what’s this book about anyway? What's got your pretty little head in a spin?”

You hesitate for a moment, unsure how to respond. There's no easy way to explain what you’re writing without dipping into something personal and intimate. But the way Wanda is watching you so intently, waiting, you decide to just go for it. You’re thinking maybe talking about it will help you sort out what’s been blocking you. 

You clear your throat, and look down at the glass in your hands. It’s, uh well, it's another one in the same genre as the others.”

Wanda cocks her head at you, leaning in again. “Mhm, go on.” She pulls out the stool next to her, tapping on the top of it. You smile in the safeness of her space, walking round the counter and sitting down next to her. 

“It’s about sadomasochism actually. I’m trying to explore that dynamic, the balance between pleasure and pain, trust and submission.” You feel your face flush, realising that there's no backing out now. This is supported by Wanda’s lips curling into an all too well knowing smile. 

“So you’re digging into the darker side of submission? That’s bold.”

You nod, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah it’s more about the psychological aspect of it - how it feels to surrender completely to someone else but it's hard to get it to feel real rather than just something for someone to get off on.”

There's a brief pause, both of you deep in thought, but you can feel Wanda’s gaze like a weight on your skin. Her eyes darken, just for a moment, as she processes your words. “Sounds intense.” She murmurs, her voice dropping a little lower. 

You let out a nervous laugh, trying to break the tension that you’d created. “Yeah well it’s not exactly an easy thing to write about. I want to portray it with respect.” 

The redhead has now turned in her chair to face you completely head on, her head tilted as she rolls her lips together. “Maybe that’s because you’re overthinking it.” She pauses, then adds, almost as an afterthought, “Or maybe because you haven’t experienced it enough yourself.” 

Your breath catches in your throat at her suggestion and you can’t hold her stare anymore, quickly glancing away with a small cough. “I- Well I’ve written about it plenty.”

She chuckles gently at your answer, her tone life but her words heavy with meaning. “It’s not quite the same thing though is it?” Wanda’s fingers gently brush against yours as she reaches for the wine bottle to refill her glass. The touch is light, fleeting, but she doesn’t pull her hand away immediately. Instead her fingers linger just long enough to make you wonder if it was an accident or something more deliberate. 

You attempt to laugh it off, but your voice falters slightly. “I guess not.”

She meets your eyes again, her gaze almost daring, “You know, sometimes the best way to get through the writer's block is to immerse yourself in the subject matter.”

You swallow hard, praying that she didn’t hear the gulp that erupted in the back of your throat. The air between you had grown thicker than before. “Yeah I’ve heard that before.”

She smiles, leaning just a little closer, her arm brushing against yours as she picks up her glass. “So what’s tripping you up? The emotional stuff, or you know the physical details.”

The way she’s looking at you, so calm yet so confident. It’s like she’s pulling the words out of you without you even realising it. “Both. It’s hard to get the balance right, making the dynamic feel believable.”

Wanda nods thoughtfully, biting the tip of her finger as she indulges herself into your problem. “Have you thought about how you’re building the dynamic between them?” She shifts closer and in the process her knee scrapes past yours under the lip of the counter top. You’re hyper aware of every small movement now and it's impossible to be an accident. “Like what does submission look like to you? What does it feel like in the story?”

You blink, caught off guard by the directness of her question. “God, I don’t know, It's like surrender, like when you trust someone enough to give them complete control.” You pick up your glass again, taking a massive chug in order to keep your hands steady. “It’s like you know they won’t hurt you, even when you’re in your most vulnerable state.”

She nods understandingly, leaning ever so slightly closer to you. “Okay so what does that look like physically, how are you going to write that?”

Your pulse is going crazy now, you’re convinced that Wanda can hear your heartbeat quicken from just her words. “It’s about touch,” You say, your voice almost wobbling, “The way they respond to each other. The way a person can take control with just a look or a gesture.”

As you speak, Wanda’s lips turn up into a smirk, her gaze still unwavering. She’s so close to you now that the warmth of her body is radiating off of your skin. Her hand rests slightly above your knee, the touch intimate, sending a shockwave up the back of your spine. “Show me.” 

Your breath hitches, heart racing as her fingers begin to trace a small circle against your leg. The motion is almost absentminded, yet it feels nothing but deliberate. She maintains her eye contact, her expression open but charged with a spark of something playful and dangerously enticing. 

You freeze, caught in a whirlwind of sensations as the room feels smaller now, the air thick with unspoken tension. You know exactly what she’s suggesting without her having to say it.

You open your mouth to respond, but immediately close it, earning a small chuckle from the redhead. “If you can describe it so well, you shouldn’t be stuck here right.” The dangerousness in her tone makes the words evaporate and you become acutely aware of the heat radiating from her body, the way her thumb brushes softly against your skin, drawing you in deeper. 

Wanda pulls back just slightly, but her hand lingers where it is, a gentle weight that feels both reassuring and electric. Her eyes lock back with yours, searching, waiting for your answer. “It’s okay.” She whispers, her voice soft yet commanding, as if she's completely in control in this delicate moment, “I’m just trying to help you get… unstuck.”

You can’t look away from her, caught in her captivating gaze. Her confidence is wrapping itself around you, urging you to step closer to the edge of your own desires. The space between you is charged, the possibilities suddenly hanging thick in the air as you contemplate what she could do next.

“Have you thought about drawing from your own experiences?” Wanda questions, still attempting to find a solution to a problem you couldn’t tell whether she was actively helping or not. “You know, sometimes personal stories can ignite that spark of inspiration.”

You swallow hard, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. “I wish I could.” You admit, your pulse is still racing from her touch that she has now released, yet her body still remains just as close. “I’ve never really had anything that intimate.”

A playful glint flickered within the green of her eyes, her gaze sharpening. “Really? Nothing? Not even a fleeting moment that made your heart race?” She tilts her head slightly, studying your face as if searching for unspoken truths buried inside of you. 

You shake your head, feeling the embarrassment paint itself across your face. “Not like that, I mean I’ve had relationships, but nothing that’s ever made me feel like I was completely out of control, everythings always felt so safe.”

“Safe can be good, but isn’t there something thrilling about stepping outside of your comfort zone?” Her face leans closer to you once more, the feeling of her leg permanently resting against yours now. 

You nod, the thought resonating with you, but you’re still hesitant. “I just don’t know how to write something so raw and believable if I haven’t experienced it myself.”

Her expression softens, shifting her weight slightly. Her gaze drops to your lips for the briefest moment before locking back onto your eyes. “Kiss me,” She whispers, the command both shocking and exhilarating. 

Your heart races, a jolt of electricity coursing through you at her words. You can’t look away, caught in the depths of her stare. The space between you feels impossibly small, filled with a tension that pulses with possibility. “Just one kiss,” She adds, her voice a sultry invitation. “It might just unlock everything you’ve been trying to write.”

With her eyes gleaming into yours, the world around you fades into the background leaning only the two of you in this moment. You’re drawn to her, every instinct telling you to surrender to the rush of desire coursing through your veins. You lean in, heart racing as you connect your lips together. The kiss is soft at first, a small tentative exploration, but it quickly deepens, igniting something almost primal within you. Wanda’s hand slides from your knee to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as if she wants to consume every part of you. You pull back, the softness of her lips still lingering against yours. You’re panting slightly, taking in the depths of what you just happened. 

Wanda’s eyes gleam with satisfaction, her finger touching her lip and you can’t help but smile widely at her. “See.” She murmurs, her tone low and teasing. “Just a taste of what it feels like to let go.”

[facioleeknow]

The art of pleasure ch.1

Caress ° Bang Chan

When one girl in your class makes fun of you for being a virgin at a party, you are left distraught. It's only natural that you decide to whine about it to your best friend, Bang Chan; but he does more than lending a shoulder to cry on, he comes up with a solution. He and his 7 friends will help you and teach you all about the pleasure of the flesh. What could go wrong?

Genre: College AU, SMUT 18+ ONLY wc: 1431

Warnings: fraternity skz, inexperienced reader, experienced chan and stray kids, kissing, frat party, a bitch, insecurities

The art of pleasure masterlist

A/N: Hello, thank you so much for the support on this series!! This chapter is pretty tame BUT IT IS THE FIRST, so don't worry about it!! Channie girls don't worry he's gonna get some later ;)

Another semester. Another party at the only frat house on campus, it was nothing out of the ordinary. The usual room filled with flowing alcohol and the usual people, dancing to the usual songs. You’re sure it might be the idea of fun of some of the people that surrounded you but not yours, obviously not yours. That was why you were the only unusual thing in there. You weren’t a party animal, you weren’t so extroverted as to go to a party to have fun. Unfortunately it was also your best friend’s birthday who happened to be the president of the fraternity, so you really couldn’t have said no to his invitation. 

The scene in front of you shifted. A drunk girl started approaching you.

“Oh my god, Y/N! You’re here, I’m so happy to see you,” the girl, from one of your classes, threw her arms around you and squeezed tightly. The feeling of her foreign body pressed against yours made you shiver uncomfortably. 

“Oh, c’mon Y/Nnie, loosen up a little!” Alice said with a sly slime. Before you could commit murder in cold blood in front of your whole year, your two (out of three) friends pulled you away into a more secluded area of the room. In front of you laid a messy circle of people, intently focused on a spinning bottle.

‘Yuck’

“I can't believe people still play spin the bottle at their old age,” Shuhua mumbled as disgusted as you.

“You read my mind,Shu.”

“Omg Y/Nnie! You want to play spin the bottle? Wouldn't it be embarrassing tho? Since you're a virgin at your big age,” Alice fell into a fit of giggles, soon followed by her friends.

“God, she cannot be serious,” you whispered to your friends while you all collectively side-eyed the bitch. And that was exactly what she was, nothing other than a bitch. But then why was your face burning in shame and your heart racing? Why were your palms sweating so much? You shouldn't have been that affected but you were.

For the whole night you couldn’t help but think about Alice's words, because no matter how spiteful they were and how much of a bitch she was, they were also true. You were a virgin “at your big age”, but that had never bothered you until you had entered college. Never in your life had you seen so many people get involved with each other and in some ways you felt pushed aside and in the dark about this magical new world that everybody had already discovered, everybody but you. 

The red solo cup in your hands wrinkled slightly under your fingertips as you squeezed it. You shouldn’t have been thinking about those things, why were you hyperfocusing right now?

“You’re supposed to collect the cups, babygirl, not strangle them,”a masculine voice pulled you out of your train of thoughts. Bang Chan, the birthday boy and your best friend. You and Chan had known each other since your first year of college, he had saved you from making a fool out of yourself the first day and walked you to your lecture hall. Since then he had stuck by your side and helped you make some new friends even if you were extremely picky with people.

“Ew, Christopher, I told you not to call me that,” you grimaced at the cringey name. He just giggled.

“I know, but I like annoying you too much,” another giggle. A small smile threatened to break your “angry” facade, this carefree side of him was a rare sight and the fact that he was showing it to you was making you giddy.

His warm hands snatched the trash bag away from you before clasping around your smaller ones. 

“Seriously, what is going on?”

Lying wasn’t an option, he was way too observant for his own good, he always knew when you lied even when you didn’t yourself. You scoffed.

“Just something Alice said,'' and with that you tried to grab the bag from behind him to resume your job. No movement, he had an iron grip on you.

“What did she say?”

“Just her usual nagging, you know how she is,” you tugged and tried to get away from his grip to no avail.

“Tell me,” he wasn’t asking and that was obvious to the both of you.

“She said that it’s embarrassing to be a virgin at my big age.”

Chan finally let your hands fall to your sides and in exchange wrapped his arms around you and squished you against his chest.

“Bitch, she shouldn’t have been here, she wasn’t invited,” his chest rumbled with his words, “I’m sorry Y/N, I hope you know she’s in the wrong.” 

With your arms wrapped around Chan and your face squished against his chest, with the gentleness of his voice caressing you, you found it hard to lie so you just stayed silent.

“Oh baby, don’t think about it, okay? She’s wrong and there is nothing wrong with you. Let’s go to bed, I can clean up tomorrow morning.”

For the whole night you tossed and turned with always the same thought in you mind, hoping not to wake Chan who was sleeping soundly next to you for once.It was no surprise that early in the morning you felt exhausted, your limbs were heavy and your mind was foggy, but you still couldn’t fall asleep. 

“Did you sleep at all? I heard you move around a lot,” Christopher groaned next to you, his arm lazily draped over your middle.

“Sorry,” you tried to utter in your half dead state.

“I had an idea while I was sleeping,” he dragged your body against his and started to gently rub your arm to ease you to sleep. You only hummed in response.

“You should let me and the kids teach you about sex, you know us and we’re good people, we would never push you to do anything. We can take anything at your own pace, we’ll teach you well,” he spoke like he was saying the most natural thing in the world and not suggesting you get passed between him and his other seven friends. Sensing your confusion, Chan gently shushed you and started rubbing your arm again.

“Think about it, we can talk about it when you wake up.”

A witty response was about to come out of your mouth but darkness enveloped you like a hug. Chan hugged you tighter to his chest and sighed. ‘That went well’, he thought.

When you woke up, a blinding light was filtering through the window. Damn Christopher who never closed the blinds.

“Good morning,” the said man chirped happily from next to you. The moment you laid your eyes on him, the conversation from that morning resurfaced to your mind. The frantic beating of your heart sent a shot of adrenaline through you.

“I take it you remember what I asked you,” he put his phone back on his nightstand to fully give you his attention.

“Chris..” you started but he swiftly interrupted you.

“We’re not doing it out of pity, we are all attracted to you, we wouldn’t make it awkward and if you refuse it’s gonna be like it never happened,” Chris answered all of your questions like he could read your mind. You were confused, your heart (and your vagina) wanted to say yes but your head told you to refuse. 

‘Fuck it, stop thinking.’

“Okay, let’s do it.” Chris stayed silent, only your synced breaths could be heard in the room. The tension was thick and full of desire.

“Can I kiss you, pretty girl? Just a kiss and you can stop me anytime you want.”

“Yes, please.” With that Chris  pulled you in his lap in mere seconds and attached your lips together. He wasted no time and pushed his tongue in your mouth, still his movements were gentle and slow just like yours were slow and hesitant. His whole persona dripped in gentle dominance, it made you hot and sweat and made your pussy throb. His hands roamed your body and tentatively groped around, testing your limits. Your lips moved more and more confidently the more time they were attached to Chan’s.

Your lungs burned from the lack of air but you didn’t care, you were drunk on his touch, his taste, you were drunk on him.

Chan was the first to break the kiss and immediately giggled when you tried to kiss him again.

“Patience baby, we have a lot of time.”

Taglist:

@kflixnet  @hann1bee  @bahng-chrizz  @staysinbloom  @laylasbunbunny @caitlyn98s

[smartkookiee]

Wounds We Never Show // Ch.4 — jjk.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・ ❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/they, afab) ❥genre/rating: 18 +explicit content, enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, enemies with benefits ❥chapter warnings/tags: Drinking, Swearing, Fighting, multiple uses of the middle finger, some medical talk, Smoking,.........SMUT, making out, heavy petting, dirty talk, protected sex (WRAP IT UP), cum eating, fingering, multiple orgasms, oral (f.receiving), cowgirl, JK a little obsessed with your body (squint), somewhat pathetic jk? yeah its really hot and intense just trust me, like the tension is so.... Oh it all sorts of confusing for everyone's feelings. This chapter had ME giggling ❥word-count: 15.1k (hehehe) ❥Series Masterlist Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter fic is cross posted to ao3 send an ask or comment on post to be added to the taglist! .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

You had hoped—no—prayed, that your gas station encounter with Jungkook would be a one off encounter. You had pushed it from your mind and tucked it away because it probably would be the only time it would happen. It has been kicking up old memories these days. Old frustrations and annoyances as well. 

Many stories for another time, but college was on your mind now. How everything played out… you still to this day have no idea what set Jungkook off so bad. 

Sighing, you stirred your noodles in your ramen cup, eyes tracing little circles as you zoned out in thought. This side of the hospital was quieter, and you enjoyed the break room here. A small, cozy spot where you could actually hear yourself think. You were so lost in memories that you didn’t notice someone else had walked in.

“Y/N?”

You blinked and looked up, nearly dropping your chopsticks. Dr. Kim Seokjin stood beside you, his tall frame practically radiating energy. His white coat was open, slightly wrinkled as if he’d been speed-walking for hours, and he was flashing you the kind of grin that could probably be seen from space.

“Dr. Kim,” you said, straightening up, a polite smile forming. You’d wanted to talk with him yesterday, but schedules had kept you both busy. “Good morning, sir.”

“Good morning.” He laughed and held a hand out to you in a theatrical manner. “I know we’ve met before but thought I should reintroduce myself. Properly this time!” 

“Oh, no problem, sir. I feel like I know everything about you already, the others have been filling me in.” You took his hand, and his grip was warm and reassuring, with just a hint of that showmanship flair he couldn’t seem to hide.

“And I’ve been seeing your work in the charts,” he said, barely pausing for breath. “Your attention to detail is phenomenal! I’m really sorry I haven’t been around to welcome you properly! Vic’s thrilled to have you up here—I get why,” He puttered around the small room to the counters, taking an apple. “And listen, my office is always open if you need anything. Anything. Or just go and pester Yoongi,” he added with a gleam in his eye. “He needs a good pestering every now and then.”

You laugh, nodding. “Oh I have no issue bothering Yoongi.” 

“Perfect, you'll do great up here.” Tossing the apple up and catching it smoothly, he began to take a few small steps back out of the room, “Wish I could stay and chat more, but surgery calls. But hey, we’ll talk later this week. I promise!”

Right then, he bumped backward straight into Vic, who was stepping into the room with a look that could cut through any excuse Seokjin could come up with. She gave him a once-over, crossing her arms and tilting her head.

“Shouldn’t you be heading to surgery, Dr. Kim?” She asked, her voice dry as sandpaper.

Seokjin’s face twisted into a pout. “Wow, not even a good morning, Dr. Kim, you miracle-worker? Or maybe, how was your life-changing surgery last night?” He took an exaggerated bite out of his apple, grinning at her with a mischievous gleam.

Vic rolled her eyes but humored him, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Good morning, Dr. Kim, miracle-worker. How was your life-changing surgery last night? Now can you get to the surgical floor before they decide to operate on you instead?”

“Fine,” Seokjin continued to pout as he made his way out of the room, calling back. “I’ll have you know I saved at least seven lives last night!” 

“Great, now go save seven more!” Vic let out an exasperated laugh, closing the break room door. You laughed a little bit taking another bite of your ramen. Vic pulled up a chair in front of you, slumping down with a heavy sigh. 

“He certainty makes your life easy, huh?” You tease Vic, and she laughs. 

“Oh, definitely,” Vic replied, rolling her eyes but unable to hide her fond smile. “But he’s a good guy, even with all the theatrics. A great surgeon.”

“I believe it.” You said. Even though it was only your second day up here you had already heard so many good things. You knew Seokjin somewhat but now you felt like you really knew him—even though you had maybe two conversations. 

Vic leaned on her hand, watching you with a glint of curiosity. “Please tell me you have an interesting story or something to distract me with. I’m about to lose my mind doing the same rounds all day.”

You snort, dragging out a long sigh for effect., “I ran into Jungkook last night.” 

Her eyes lit up, and she sat up straight. “Oh really?”

“Turns out he works close to where I live. We bumped into each other at the store by my place.” You scrunch your face up in mild annoyance. 

“Booty call on demand. That’s convenient.” Vic laughs to herself but can tell you aren’t so amused. “Sorry, so was it weird?” 

You paused, “A little? He… wanted to talk about it.” 

“Oh, interesting.” Vic scooted her chair closer to you, like you were going to reveal some big secret. 

So, you told her everything—not that there was much to tell, but Vic was hanging on every word as if it were the best gossip she'd heard all week. You admitted you were hoping it was a one-off encounter; the idea of walking a couple of extra blocks just to avoid the place was tempting.

“How fun!” Vic leaned back in her seat and rested her arms behind her head. 

You roll your eyes, “You and I have different definitions of fun.”

Vic smirked, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Every time you guys meet, it’s like God flips a coin. Fight or... you know.” She wiggled her eyebrows playfully, her grin widening as you kicked her ankle under the table.

“Stop.” You stood up, mostly eager to escape her relentless teasing.

You pushed the thought of Jungkook out of your mind, spending the rest of the day diving into your rounds. By the time you finished, exhaustion hit you full force, but you decided you needed a quick pick-me-up. Maybe a small snack and an energy drink for tomorrow would do you some good. So you stopped by the convenience store near your apartment again today, hoping for a quiet, uneventful errand.

Well that was up until–

“Oh god damn it,” you muttered under your breath, spotting Jungkook at the end of one of the aisles. He noticed you at the same moment, blinking as if the universe had just pulled a fast one on him. 

“You’re kidding right?” Jungkook whispered into the air, looking up to the ceiling like he was talking to something else. Of course you would be here again, he had purposefully decided to show up at a different time in the hopes he wouldn’t run into you again but here you were. 

You quickly grabbed your snack, brushing past him without a word, darting to the drinks for a swift escape. Jungkook watched for a second before going back to his shopping, both of you clearly trying to act unaffected. After rushing to the counter, you checked out and slipped out of the store as quickly as you’d arrived. Behind you, Jungkook let out a quiet sigh, relieved, mentally vowing to stick to later store runs to avoid the awkwardness.

But the universe, it seemed, had other plans. The next day, the same scenario unfolded.

As you walked out of the store later the next evening, your steps faltered when you saw him entering. His expression mirrored your own—the wide-eyed disbelief, followed by something more annoyed and inpatient.

“Oh, Jesus.” Jungkook muttered, glancing heavenward as if to say seriously, again?

Your eyes narrowed, your disbelief morphing quickly into irritation. “Stalking me now, Jungkook?” Without missing a beat, you bumped your shoulder into his as you passed. Deliberately harder than necessary.

Jungkook snorted, throwing you an unimpressed glance. “You aren’t even worth the breath it would take to come up with an insult,” he muttered, turning away as if the encounter bored him.

You looked back, a mocking smile playing on your lips. “Disappointing,” you said, tone dripping with satisfaction. “Your comebacks are getting lazy.”

Jungkook just went inside, not even bothering with a response. He couldn’t help but think three times in the same week? This would be the most you and Jungkook had seen each in such a short period in five years. What kind of joke was this? Was this some kind of punishment for your ill-advised night together? Did the two of you tip some kind of karmic scale somewhere so you were doomed to keep running into each other? Whatever it was, Jungkook could only hope that this was the last time. 

Except it didn’t end there, cause the next evening–

You rounded the corner of an aisle only to freeze, spotting Jungkook standing by the drink fridge again, his back to you. He turned just as you did, his face falling into an exasperated glare. “Okay, now I really need a restraining order,” you said, folding your arms with an annoyed sigh.

“Funny, I’ve been nice enough to come at different times every day. Maybe I need the restraining order.” He pressed his tongue against his cheek, clearly just as irked. He yanked a drink from the fridge with unnecessary force, glancing at you as if daring you to counter him.

You shook your head, unimpressed. “I live in this neighborhood, so if anyone should be giving up their convenience store privileges, it’s you.”

Jungkook let out a dry laugh, stepping closer. “Maybe it’s fate’s way of telling you to find a new place.”

You scoffed, holding his gaze. “Please. If anything, fate’s just telling you that I was here first. So maybe you’re the one who needs to find a new store.”

“You’re not nearly as scary as you think you are, you know that?” He smirked, but there was a hint of challenge in his eyes. 

You raised an eyebrow. “Keep testing me, and you might find out just how scary I can be.” Grabbing your drink, you attempted to brush past him, but he shifted just enough to subtly stick his foot out. The move was barely noticeable—until you tripped, stumbling forward. You whipped around, eyes blazing with white-hot rage, only to see Jungkook with a look of pure satisfaction, like he’d just won some unspoken game.

“Oh, whoops.” he said, his voice dripping with childish amusement. Jungkook never thought in his grown age he would be intentionally tripping someone else, but he was always surprised when it came to your interactions.

“Seriously?” you hissed, glaring at him.

Jungkook shrugged, clearly unfazed as he made his way toward the counter, all too pleased with himself. “Careful, wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

You let out a scoff, not caring about the stares from the other customers as you muttered under your breath, “Fuck you.”

Jungkook looked back with an infuriatingly casual grin, then quickly left with a wave before you had the chance to retaliate. He was out of the store and gone before you could fully process the whole interaction, leaving you fuming and oddly rattled, wondering just how far this little war would go.

The tension between you two was unmistakably intensifying, each encounter adding to the growing irritation. Determined to avoid him, you decided to go to the store way earlier than usual the next day. You’d planned it all out in your head, you scoped out the store through the window, even checked up and down the street for any sign of him. It had appeared to be all clear. All you needed was some ibuprofen so this should be quick. Confident, you headed on inside, grabbed what you needed and checked out, hoping to finally break the streak of unfortunate coincidences.

But, of course, fate was not done testing you.

As you stepped out of the store, bag in hand, you glanced left and there he was. This time, he had a friend with him, chatting casually as they strolled down the street. Jungkook spotted you at the same moment, his face shifting from casual amusement to a mix of disbelief and exasperation.

A laugh escaped your lips despite yourself, part amusement and part resignation. The absurdity of it was almost impressive at this point. Jungkook’s friend noticed the interaction, giving him a curious look. Jungkook just sighed, visibly exhausted by the constant run-ins. Now Jimin got to experience this chance encounter.

At this point, you’d completely abandoned any pretense of politeness. Without breaking stride, you lifted both hands, middle fingers raised, and started walking backward up the street, smirking as you saw the irritation flicker across Jungkook’s face.

“Real mature.” Jungkook called, shaking his head.

You shrugged, calling back, “I go high when you go low.” With that, you turned on your heel and continued down the street. Jungkook sighed, grateful this encounter hadn’t escalated further.

Jimin watched you walk away, eyebrows raised. “You gonna explain what that was all about?”

“That,” Jungkook muttered, heading into the store, “was a usual encounter with Y/N.”

“Oh… oh.” Jimin nodded, connecting the dots. He and Jungkook had been friends for ages, so although he hadn’t met you before, he’d definitely heard tales of you—and now he was seeing it all firsthand. “You really weren’t joking.”

Jungkook snorted, grabbing a snack. “I couldn’t make this up if I tried.”

Jungkook began to give Jimin a quick rundown of the week’s events as they walked back to the office after getting a few things. Jungkook describes each encounter more ridiculous than the last, his annoyance apparent. Jimin’s grin only grew wider with every detail, eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Wait, so you’ve really been running into each other all week?”

“Like clockwork,” Jungkook muttered, exasperated. “It’s like she knows exactly when I’ll be here.”

“Well if you go missing, I’ll know where to start looking for you.” Jimin joked and Jungkook brushed him off. 

It wasn’t a joke. If Jungkook did go missing you probably would be the first suspect. You weren’t too far off from wanting to strangle him usually so it would be justified. 

Now it was Saturday and you were back at work so you decided to just avoid the store altogether today, no way you could run into him if you just didn't show up. Plus tonight you would be going out. Ash and you planned to go to an emo night and you couldn’t wait, it was your reward for making it through this week for sure.

Still, you found your thoughts drifting to Jungkook’s irritatingly smug face as you went about your work. You were so distracted that you barely noticed Ji-eun watching you, a touch of concern in her eyes.

“You okay, kid?” Ji-eun asked, her voice pulling you out of your thoughts. She tilted her head, studying you.

You blinked, realizing you’d zoned out completely. “Sorry,” you said with a sheepish smile as you noted her blood pressure on your tablet. “I got so distracted I didn’t even realize you were talking.”

She laughed, waving a hand as if brushing away your apology. “Oh, don’t be silly. I was just rambling about my kids anyway.” She gave you a knowing look. “But I can tell something’s weighing on you.”

You were a little taken aback by her question, “Oh it’s just personal things.” 

“Well I’ve got loads of advice if you need some. I’ve nothing better to do these days.” She gestured around at the obvious surroundings, she must have been getting bored as even though its only been a few days. The room had slowly been filling up with crochet projects, the corpes of the failed pieces had piled up in the corner of the room. “Come on, you can tell me while you finish up.” 

You chuckled, typing a few notes into your tablet. “It’s complicated… there’s this guy.”

Ji-eun cuts you off with a knowing smile, “Ain't it always a guy.” 

You laugh but shake your head, “Not with me usually. It’s also not like that… this guy is seriously just–” You paused, your mouth in a tight line and your shoulders rising just at the thought of Jungkook, “an absolute nightmare.”

“Nightmare? He sounds intense. What did he do to earn that title?” Ji-eun asked, her eyes wide with amused curiosity.

“Now that is a much longer and complicated story.” You sigh, continuing to move around her, beginning to inspect her skin. 

“Again. I have all the time in the world.” Ji-eun really was desperate for a good story, and honestly you were a little desperate to lay it all out on the table again. 

 You found yourself more willing to spill the details than you expected. “We knew each other in college but had a big blowout. Then ever since, we fight and argue and it sometimes borders on physical altercations. I’ve never met anyone who can get under my skin like he does. But we ended up as the maid of honor and best man at our friends’ wedding, and I thought maybe, just maybe, we’d be able to be civil.”

“And?” she prompted, amused.

You shook your head, moving to examine her skin as part of her routine. “We just fought again. Normally, I can avoid him in most situations, but this week? I’ve run into him every single day. It’s like he’s popping up everywhere.”

“Sounds like the universe is really having a field day with the two of you.” She grinned at you childishly.

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you checked Ji-eun’s arms and made sure there were no signs of discoloration or swelling. “Feels like it. I keep turning corners, and there he is, just… waiting to ruin my day.”

Ji-eun’s smile softened as she watched you, nodding as you recounted the drama. “Sounds exhausting,” she said gently. “Sometimes, we end up running into people like that for a reason though. Especially because it sounds like there is major unfinished business here.”

You sighed, moving down to check the circulation in her legs, grateful that she didn’t seem to mind your rambling. “Oh, there’s a reason all right—to remind me that my patience has limits.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “Believe me, I’ve had my share of people who made my blood boil. But, you know, it made me realize that some people test us because they see something in us. Sometimes, even if it’s frustrating, it’s a chance to learn something.”

“I don’t think there’s anything he sees in me other than a chance to annoy me. It’s been five years of this so if I was supposed to learn something I would hope I would have figured it out by now.” You note a few things in her chart. Ji-eun hadn’t been showing really any signs of fatigue lately but you could tell that she was shaking a little bit when holding up her legs. 

Ji-eun tilted her head, her tone thoughtful as she continued. “Sometimes, we’re put in front of the same person over and over because it’s life’s way of pushing us toward something or to be better. And that doesn’t have to mean romance—it could mean resolving something. Or maybe finding a way to make peace? Maybe this is the universe saying hey, heres you opportunity to fix everything?”

You scoffed softly, checking her pulse and nodding as it came back steady. “I don’t think peace is anywhere in our future.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Just don’t let him control your day-to-day. One lesson I’ve learned is to live for what makes you happy, not what keeps you frustrated. You don’t have to let him have so much power over your mood. He’s just a stupid boy after all. Sometimes, it’s just about saying to yourself, He’s not worth it.”

You considered her words, hesitating as you updated her notes on your tablet. She was right; it was draining to have Jungkook on your mind constantly, even if it was just anger. Maybe part of what frustrated you was how much headspace he took up, how he seemed to affect your peace.

“I guess I hadn’t realized how much he had been ruining my mood.” You let out a long dragged out sigh, “You are pretty good with the advice.”

“I know!” She flashed you a big cheesy grin again, immediately improving your mood. “I don’t have any daughters so it’s nice to grant what wisdom I have to someone else. About boys and other things.”

 You finish up with Ji-eun and you continue about the rest of your day in a much better mood. She was absolutely right, Jungkook was an idiot and you should not let him ruin your mood. After all you finally were going to spend a fun evening out with Ash. So you picked yourself up and pushed through the rest of the day to get to this evening. Ash would be coming over since she wanted to steal some clothes and make up for you. 

The two of you would be joining Hoseok for an emo night at the club you went too for Melanie's Bachelorette party. You had really been looking forward too it all week. It would be your reward for surviving Jungkook. 

Once you made it home, Ash had already arrived and was waiting outside. She made herself very comfortable shuffling through your closet like she lived here herself. You had already picked out an outfit aside so now you were really just waiting on Ash to make some decisions. In her rummaging you decided to call Melanie, filling her in on your eventful week with satan's spawn. 

“I think you’re being just a tiny bit dramatic,” Melanie said, her voice crackling through the phone as you absentmindedly scrolled on your phone. Namjoon and Melanie were still on their honeymoon but Namjoon wasn’t feeling good so she had a few minutes to talk. 

“I don’t think shopping at the same convenience store is going to kill you,” Melanie continued, the patience in her tone borderline condescending. 

“You don’t know that!” You protested, “For all I know, he could hex the place. Next time I walk in, bam! Up in flames.”

“Highly unlikely,” she said, her voice dry.

“I mean,” Ash pipes up from inside your closet, having pulled out a dress only to toss it back in. “You can’t completely rule it out, though.”

“See? Ash gets it.”

Melanie sighed. “Fine. If you go back to the convenience store and spontaneously combust, I will issue a formal statement in your obituary that I was wrong.”

“It’s the least you could do,” you said, throwing in an exaggerated sniffle for dramatic effect. You could practically hear Melanie’s eye-roll through the phone.

“Still, it’s kind of weird that you’ve lived there this long and never run into each other.” she muses.

Ash agrees from your closet. “Jungkook’s been working at that firm for like two years. It’s shocking your paths haven’t crossed.”

“It’s a sick, twisted joke is what it is,” you huff, folding a pair of jeans that Ash discarded. “Can’t believe he tripped me.”

“Again, dramatic,” Melanie muttered. 

“Yeah yeah enough about me. When do you guys get back? I need some Melanie time.” This was probably the longest stretch of period you had gone without seeing Melanie. You had been attached at the hip since you met basically.

“Tomorrow night, we will be in super late. Someone wanted to be back to work on Monday.” Her tone clearly pointed towards Namjoon. You let out a snort. It’s been two weeks since the wedding so Namjoon was probably itching to get back to his routine. 

Ash came out of your closet with a dress and leather jacket combo, “How does this look?” 

You think for a moment, “If you accessorize it I think it will be great.” Which you had plenty of accessories to dress it up just right. You also needed her to decide because it was already late and you two needed to start getting ready. 

“I can’t believe you guys are going out without me. You must hate me.” Melanie whines on the other side of the phone and you laugh at her. 

“You are in paradise. With the love of your life,” you laugh, plopping your phone down on the bed as you slip on your outfit. “I would take that over an emo night any day.”

“No, you guys hate me,” she insists, fake-crying loudly into the phone. You and Ash exchange amused glances.

“Aw, poor baby,” Ash coos into the phone, laughing as she rummages through your jewelry box.

After some playful back-and-forth, Melanie finally hangs up, still grumbling in betrayal. You and Ash pick up the pace, now racing against the clock to get ready. Ash is better at makeup than you, so once she’s done, she helps you with a bold, modern emo look—sharp eyeliner and dark lipstick that gives a bit of edge without going full 2010s throwback.

After some last-minute touch-ups, you and Ash finally head out, both buzzing with excitement. The club is packed when you arrive, but the line moves quickly, and soon you’re slipping inside to the familiar pulse of music and flashing lights. Inside, you and Ash share a grin, already swept up in the energy of the night.

Once inside, the club is already alive with energy, dark lights and neon hues casting a moody glow over the dance floor. People are scattered around, some nodding along to the beat, others fully immersed, lost in the music. You and Ash weave your way through the crowd, searching for Hoseok.

It doesn’t take long to spot him by the bar, where he’s already ordered a round for the three of you. He’s dressed to match the night’s vibe, with dark clothes and a silver chain, looking effortlessly cool. He grins as he catches sight of you both.

“My babies! Took you long enough!” he teases, sliding the drinks over as you reach him.

“Blame Ash,” you reply, elbowing her playfully.

Ash scoffs. “Please, you’re the one who needed help with eyeliner!”

“Whatever, it’s time to actually get this party started!” Hoseok says. The three of you clink glasses, laughing as you take your first sips. The familiar taste mixes perfectly with the thrum of guitar filling the air, already pulling you into the spirit of the night.

A song Ash knew immediately filled the air of the club and Ash let out an excited yell, grabbing your hand and pulling you onto the dance floor. You barely have a moment to take another sip before she’s dragging you through the crowd, laughing all the way.

Hoseok follows, and soon the three of you are lost in the sea of people, letting the music take over. Ash throws her arms up, singing along to every word, and you find yourself joining in, laughing when you miss a lyric here or there. Hoseok, usually the smoothest of dancers, isn’t above a little head-banging, which only makes you all laugh harder.

After a while, you retreat to the edge of the dance floor, panting and grinning. Hoseok comes back with another round, passing you something sweet. The refreshing drink is exactly what you need after dancing up a storm.

“Oh, this is perfect,” you sigh, savoring the cool, sugary flavor.

Ash, fanning herself dramatically, suggests, “Let’s catch some air.” You and Hoseok nod, following her outside. The November night is brisk, and the cold air hits you like a splash of water—invigorating after the club’s stuffy heat. You take a deep breath, grateful for the moment to cool down.

As you settle into a quiet corner on the patio, mostly used by smokers, Ash turns to you. “Was that bartender from last time here?” she asks, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.

You shake your head, a little disappointed. “Nope. I was hoping to see him, though! Maybe he’s just not working tonight.”

“Boo,” Hoseok pouts, placing his hands on your shoulders and giving you a playful shake. “Don’t worry, we can find you someone better.” 

“Oh yeah?” you laugh looking over your shoulder at him. 

“He does know like everyone.” Ash smirks, it was true. It was always a staple for your group outings that Hoseok always knew someone. Hoseok is a magnet for people. Outgoing and effortlessly charming, he always manages to bump into familiar faces no matter where you go.

Hoseok just shrugs with a mischievous smile. “What can I say? I’m a people person.”

“I think I’m okay.” You giggle leaning against one of the walls next to you guys. 

Hoseok does seem to have something catch his eye a little too quickly. “Don’t hate me but I’ll be right back.” 

Before either you or Ash could get a word in Hoseok hopped away over to another group that was just out of your sight. “How does he do that?” Ash laughs trying to follow him with her eyes. 

“I don’t get it either. He just loves meeting people.” You sip on your drink for a second, it giving you a much needed buzz. Hoseok definitely made sure this second drink was a little stronger than the first. 

“Oh I think he is waving us over.” Ash grabs your wrist and starts pulling you in his direction. It takes a little bobbing and weaving past other groups out here but he eventually comes into sight. Waving at the both of you with a big smile on his face from something someone said in the group. 

“Jimin!” Hoseok gestures enthusiastically as you approach. “Meet my friends Ash and Y/N!”

Jimin turns, flashing a warm smile as he extends his hand. “Nice to meet you both! Hoseok’s told me all about you.”

“Oh no,” Ash teases, shaking his hand with a stare at Hoseok. “I hope he didn’t embarrass us.”

Jimin laughs, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “Only good things, I promise. You’re safe.”

As you shake his hand, something about him feels strangely familiar, though you can’t quite place it. “How do you know Hobi?”

Jimin grins, throwing an arm around Hoseok’s shoulders. “Oh, we go way, way back. I could tell you so many stories.”

“Way too many,” Hoseok chuckles, nudging him. “I don’t need them using any of those stories against me.”

“Too late,” you laugh, and the three of you share a smile.

 Just then, Hoseok’s eyes light up as he glances to the side. “Ah, there you are!” he says, breaking away from Jimin to greet someone else.

You follow his gaze, and your heart skips a beat as you spot Jungkook, striding over with his usual relaxed confidence. He was in a dark shirt with a printed ribcage on it and wore a leather jacket on top and fitting cargo pants, and really large combat boots. Definitely understanding the assignment for the theme. It takes you a second to register that it’s actually him standing there. You instinctively turn to Ash, who has her mouth wide open in shock before breaking into quiet laughter at the absurdity of your luck.

“JK!” Hoseok says warmly, pulling Jungkook into a quick hug.

Jungkook, still oblivious to you, is in mid-conversation with Hoseok when Ash’s laughter finally catches his attention. His eyes shift, first to Ash, and then they land on you. His smile fades, and you can see the disbelief setting in.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you scoff.

“What are the odds?” Jungkook's expression turns equally unimpressed. “This night just went downhill.”

“Believe me, I’m just as thrilled to see you.” you retort, crossing your arms.

Hoseok glances between the two of you, clearly caught off guard. “Wait, you guys know each other?”

Ash covers her mouth, barely containing her amusement. “Oh, they know each other all right.” Although sometimes you and Jungkook took your fights too far, Ash did find quite a bit of entertainment in them.

“Oh you’re Y/N?” Jimin piped up after noticing the draggers you and Jungkook were throwing at each other with your eyes. “This guy hasn’t shut up about you all week. I saw your theatrics yesterday. Really funny.”

Any other time you would have cringed at your public display of hatred but you were too busy focussing on Jungkook standing here. You didn’t notice it until now but he had a lip piercing. You had no idea he had a lip piercing did you? Was it fake? “Wow talking about me to your friends, it seems you really are my biggest fan aren’t you?” You say, disdain in your tone. 

Jungkook’s eyes glint with mischief. “Biggest fan? More like a spectator. Someone has to make sure you don’t take down the whole room with you.”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Please. I think you’re just secretly obsessed with me. It’s kind of pathetic, actually.”

“Hey, okay, how about we reel it in.” Ash throws an arm over your shoulder, wanting to break the tension before it gets too high. You finished off your drink with some annoyance, you were just getting started.

“Yes, how about another round?” Hoseok looks around the group. Ash nods a little too enthusiastically and starts pushing you away. You were giving the death glare to Jungkook until you could no longer see him over your shoulder. Hoseok trailing close behind. 

“She’s cute, I see why you fight with her so often.” Jimin pokes Jungkooks cheek to tease him and jungkook swats his hand away. 

“It’s really not like that.”

“Weren’t you telling me the other day that you guys called a truce at that wedding you went to or something? What happened there?” Jimin folded his arms over his chest. 

“A temporary truce. Back to our normal selves now.” Jungkook pulls out a cigarette and his lighter from his pocket. Lighting up the cigarette and taking a long drag, brushing past the subject. He would find any reason to not have to talk about you anymore. 

“What did you guys do to make it work?” Jimin found his curiosity piqued the more Jungkook tried to push the subject away, Folding his arms over his chest. 

“Why so curious?” Jungkook raises his eyebrow, offering the cigarette to Jimin as a way of distraction.

“Why are you avoiding the question?” Jimin could tell Jungkook now had more to tell than he was letting on. 

“Avoiding what?” Taehyung strolled up the both of them, Jungkook and Jimin had gotten so wrapped up that they forgot they were waiting for him to arrive. Which was the whole reason they had been hanging out here at all.

“Look who finally showed up,” Jungkook says, giving Taehyung a side hug. 

“He’s avoiding my questions about Y/N,” Jimin informs Taehyung, taking another drag from the cigarette before Jungkook snatches it back.

Taehyung let out a breathy laugh, “Jesus, where can you even start with the history between these two.” 

“You just missed a sparkling encounter between them.” Jimin nodded his head inside where you had gone. Taehyung immediately perked up. 

“She’s here? Where?” Taehyung glancing around to see if he can spot you. 

“Oh so you like Y/N?” Jimin asked. 

“Oh she’s awesome.” Taehyung beamed, he really did think highly of you. Jungkook is very obviously peeved by your glowing review from Taehyung. “Oh come on, she's so sweet!”

“Interesting.” Jimin nodded, rubbing his chin. 

“More like rotten inside and out.” Jungkook mumbled, letting his annoyance bubble up. 

Taehyung bumped Jungkook's shoulder with his own, “He’s an unreliable source. She’s never been anything but wonderful to me. Oh, if only she would accept my hand.” Taehyung dramatically sighed a hand on his forehead. 

“Please I’ve never seen you commit to keeping a plant alive, let alone to another person.” Jungkook laughs. 

“True,” Taehyung grinned, knowing full well he'd probably leave with someone by the end of the night, just to add to his reputation. “But she’s gorgeous, and she’s way too good for anyone.”

“Can we please talk about something else?” Jungkook groaned, feeling his skin prickle at the mention of you.

“Oh, she really gets under your skin, huh?” Jimin smirked, clearly enjoying Jungkook’s discomfort. “I’ll have to keep this in mind.” 

“You don’t even know the half of it.” Taehyung rolled his eyes knowingly.

Jungkook tried his best to steer the conversation elsewhere, but Jimin’s interest only seemed to deepen. Jungkook could already tell this topic wouldn’t die easily, especially with Jimin's tendency to dig for juicy details.

As the night wore on the three of them eventually made it back inside and had a handful of drinks of their own. Enjoying the music, and singing along to the songs. So were you, Ash, and Hoseok. You all had basically stayed glued to the dance floor when you were not getting more drinks. Screaming at the top of your lungs and rocking out as hard as you could. Your worry about Jungkook ruining the night had melted away rather quickly with each shot you took. 

With every shot, your confidence and sense of adventure grew. You had a habit of wandering off when you got drunk, and tonight was no exception. Ash had been doing her best to keep an eye on you, fully aware of this tendency. But as soon as she looked away for a moment—just as Hoseok stepped away to grab some waters—you were gone. Pushing her way through the crowded club, Ash searched for you, but you were nowhere to be found. Her concern grew with each passing minute, especially since she was fairly intoxicated herself, making her sense of direction hazy. She quickly texted Hoseok about the situation, and he, too, began weaving through the crowd in search of you.

Ash emerged out of the crowd to eventually bump into Taehyung and Jungkook trying to go out onto the floor.

“Tae?” She looked at him confused but then relieved, “I had no idea you were here.” 

“Hey!” Taehyung slurred his words as he pulled Ash into a hug, “Where have you been all night?”

“On the dance floor!” She grinned, grabbing his and Jungkook’s arms to steady herself. “Hey, have either of you seen Y/N? She tends to... wander after a few drinks, and I can’t find her.”

Jungkook shook his head, “Not since we saw you guys outside.”

“Can you please help me find her?” Ash knew asking for anything from Jungkook when it came to you would be a long shot. 

“Of course we will.” Taehyung nodded his head vigorously and patted Jungkook on the back, “We are on it.”

Ash gives a thankful smile between the both of them, “Thank you, please text me when you find her.” Ash then without another word moves on to continue trying to find you. 

Jungkook groaned, the alcohol making him a little too open with his emotions. “Do I have too?”

“Yes. Be a good friend to Ash and look around.” Taehyung pushed him into the opposite direction of himself, thinking maybe that splitting up would make it easier. 

Jungkook trudged around the edge of the club looking in tables and in darker corners to see if you had gotten scooped up somewhere or were clinging to a wall. He decided you probably also were going to need some water once he found you and you would need a minute to sober up. The water cup he got posed a little bit of a spill threat anywhere he went though. He was pretty tipsy himself but not enough he wouldn’t recognize your annoying face or voice when he spotted it. He was having no luck this way so he decided to move around the dance area to see if maybe you had got swept away with some of the crowd. 

Which Jungooks thought wouldn’t be too wrong. You really had just gotten pulled into the crowd, you hadn’t really noticed Ash had gone missing since you were just enjoying the music. You had sent a few drunk voice messages to Melanie, who you were sure would have some hilarious responses too in the morning. You had become overwhelmed with the amount of people around you and the heat though so you decided to start pushing your way out, which doing while rather tipsy was somewhat difficult. 

You felt yourself tilt a little and bump your head straight into someone’s chest. What you didn’t immediately register was that the front of your top had become completely soaked. Shocking you almost to a sober state from the ice cold water. You immediately felt bad because you may have just accidentally bumped into someone and their drink spilled down on you.

“I’m so sorry.” You throw your hands over your mouth and look up to see the person, finding Jungkook to be on the other end of your apology, “Oh it’s you again!” 

“Shit.” Jungook knew how cold that water probably was. He really did feel bad that it got split but you had come outta nowhere at him.

You scoff and glance down at your now soaked front annoyed. Your wobbly brain not totally thinking straight. “You totally did that on purpose.” Just as you were saying it you swayed a bit. Jungkook notices you losing your balance and steadies you.

“Ash asked me to find you. That water was for you.” He helped move you away from the center of the room and to a less crowded spot.

“Yeah whatever. You wanted to embarrass me right? Cause I embarrassed you in front of your friend Jim.” You slur and start to stumble away from Jungkook. If it weren’t you he may have laughed at the thought of someone calling Jimin Jim instead. 

“Believe it or not. I don’t spare you that much thought.” Jungkook rolled his eyes, but continued to follow you. Making sure you didn’t fall flat on your face, which would have been amusing in his mind. 

Jungkook tried to keep his hands on your shoulders to guide you away but you kept swatting them off of you. “Your voice is so annoying. You’re annoying. Get away from me, annoying boy.” 

“I am actually trying to help you, I’ll have you know.” Jungkook rolled his eyes. You could swat his hands away a thousand times. He was still going to get you back to Ash. 

You sway back and forth, it had started to make you feel a little seasick and you were worried you may actually hurl. “I need to go to the bathroom.” 

With a reluctant sigh Jungkook nods, “I’ll get you there.” 

Jungkook helps to guide you. Blocking anyone else from bumping into you. Getting you to the bathrooms. It was just a hallway with a handful of single person bathrooms. Jungkook manages to get you to one that was open at the end. You stumble your way in but don’t go to hurl you just press your back to the cold tiles. 

The small bathroom felt claustrophobic under the harsh glare of the fluorescent lights, illuminating the scribbles on the walls—snippets of humor and frustration from past patrons. You were acutely aware of the ridiculousness of the situation; the tipsy haze that had wrapped around your mind was starting to lift. The cold splash of water had brought you back to a semblance of sobriety, but not enough to chase away the stubborn annoyance that bubbled beneath the surface.

“This is your fault.” You glared at Jungkook but then looked down at your shirt. It actually was drying up pretty good. Probably would be dry by the end of the night. 

“Even if I hadn’t done it, you would find a reason to make it my fault.” Jungkook rolled his eyes, leaning his back against the bathroom door. 

You gave him a begrudging smile, tilting your head in fake gratitude. “Well, thank you for ruining my shirt and my night. You’re a real hero.”

He laughed, a bitter laugh. “Fuck off. You’re the one who had too much and worried everyone. Seems like you were the one to really ruin the night.”

“Oh so suddenly you worry about me now?” You roll your eyes, you know he didn’t

“You know what. I’ll be a bigger man. Yeah, you were drunk and alone and one of my friends was concerned about you. So I was too.”  Jungkook leaned away from the door and crossed his arms, sick and tired of having to deal with you this week. 

His words stung, and you couldn’t shake the guilt creeping in. You had really worried Ash and Hoseok, and the weight of that realization pressed down on you. “Fine. Well, mission accomplished; you can leave now.”

“No.” Jungkook shrugged. 

“Excuse me?”

“No, I’m going to walk you back to Ash myself. Doing my job as a good friend to make sure you’re okay. Whether you like it or not.” He widened his stance, as if bracing for a push that he knew wouldn’t come.

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms in defiance. “You don’t even like me, and suddenly you’re so noble. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re just here to be a pain.”

He stepped closer, his voice dropping an octave. “You’re so stubborn. It’s like you’re trying to make this difficult.”

You just leave him in an angry silence now as you continue to clean yourself up. Back still pressed against the tile. You stare at the ground instead of Jungkook standing across from you. Your sober mind would give him brownie points for making sure you were okay even though things are so difficult between the two of you. Your tipsy brain was not thinking critically now. Just wanted to fight since you had become so annoyed from seeing him every single day this week. 

Jungkook couldn’t say he didn’t feel the same. Seeing you everyday had added a certain level of stress and annoyance to each day. It had been building up to a moment the two of you would blow up in each other's faces like this. 

As you tried to move, a wave of dizziness washed over you, forcing you to lean back against the cool tiles for support. A long breath in, then out, hoping this wasn’t a sign that you might actually be sick. Once the feeling passed, you leaned up again, feeling slightly better.

“Are you okay?” Although a bit forced, he thought he should ask.

“A little dizzy still.” You hold your hands over your eyes and scrunch your face up tight for a moment. 

“We really should get you some water.” Jungkook sighed, “One I don’t accidentally spill on you that is.” 

“That would be preferable.” You laugh a little, dropping your hands. 

“Was that a laugh? Did I manage to get you to laugh?” Jungkook's face fell into dramatic shock. “Oh this needs to be documented.”

“Stop. You are being so loud.” You roll your eyes at his exasperation. “You’ll never get a laugh from me again.” 

“As long as it annoys you. I’ll never shut up.” He gives a shit eating grin your directions and you just shake your head. 

“What a gentlemen.”

Jungkook chuckled, crossing his arms as he took a  step closer to you. "Look at that. Now you’re giving me compliments? What’s next, a thank you?"

The defiant look in his eyes only fueled your frustration. "You’re impossible. You don’t even know when to quit, do you?"

"Funny. I was thinking the same thing about you." His voice was quiet now, and though he had not intended too he was looking at you a different way now. It actually made you… nervous?

“Oh, shut up,” you muttered, hating the way your heart was racing from the proximity.

“I’m good.” His voice was almost playful and daring. Challenging you in a way that made it impossible to look away. For the first time tonight you actually looked him in the eyes. He was also looking into yours, Jungkook was still pretty tipsy although he was doing a much better job at keeping himself together.

“I don’t like you.”

“Wow news of the century.” Jungkook gave you a confused look but he was amused.

“Yet somehow in this universe we managed too… well you know. You were there.” You gestured your arm dramatically pointing to him. 

“Did what?” Jungkook played a little innocent now, pushing your buttons. 

“I’m not saying it.”

“No I have no idea what we did,” Jungkook mused, “I have a terrible memory after all.”

“Jungkook,” you sighed, exasperation coloring your voice.

“What?” His grin widened, almost genuine, as if he enjoyed this.

“We managed to fuck. Are you happy?” The words hung between you like a confession, and you hated how flustered you felt afterward.

“Oh, that’s right.” Jungkook closed the distance even more, invading your space, his playful tone now laced with something deeper. “I had a lapse in my memory.”

Heat flooded your cheeks, and you despised how your body was reacting to him. “You’re insufferable,” you shot back, struggling to mask the flutter in your stomach with irritation.

“And yet, here I am, still standing in front of you.” Jungkook’s voice dropped lower, teasingly. You could feel the tension thickening in the small bathroom, and it only added to the growing frustration and confusion bubbling inside you.

“Why do you always have to make everything so complicated?” You snapped, but there was a hint of uncertainty in your voice. “Can’t you just leave me alone for once?”

He shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips. “If I did that, who is going to help you back?” His words were almost playful, but the weight behind them felt more serious than before.

You gestured between the two of you, your voice rising again. “I think you’re really here to just mess with me.”

“Messing with you is just a bonus,” he countered smoothly. “Because, although you don’t believe it, I’m actually a decent person, I have like a sliver of care for you.”

You scoffed, arms crossed over your chest, but the way he was looking at you, that mix of annoyance and something more, made it hard to keep up your defenses. “You’re just saying that because you feel guilty for spilling water on me.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, taking another step forward, closing the distance even further. “But you’ve had it coming, haven’t you? For all the times you’ve acted like a total brat.”

“Oh please, like you’re any better!” You pushed back, a challenge dancing in your eyes. “You’re an even bigger brat than I am, and you know it.”

“Touche.” He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that reverberated through the small space, making it hard to stay annoyed. It was a sweet sound, more than you would ever admit out loud.

“And I sometimes think you enjoy fighting me,” you pressed, desperate to maintain the upper hand.

“Full transparency, I don’t.” His tone shifted, just slightly, revealing a flicker of sincerity beneath the teasing.

“Whatever.” you huffed, but you could hear the vulnerability behind his words, and it made you momentarily hesitate.

“It’s true. I have to fight at my job a lot, so I’m not a big fan of it in my personal life.” His admission hung in the air, unexpected and honest. Not something Jungkook ever thought he would say out loud to you of all people.

You paused, considering him for a moment. “I think that’s the first honest thing you’ve said to me.” Your heart raced as the realization settled in—there was more to him than the brash exterior he always showed. Which was annoying, because he was becoming human instead of monster in your mind.

“Probably.” He shrugged, but there was a softness in his gaze now that made you want to look away, even as you felt drawn in.

You both laughed to yourselves then, the sound echoing off the tiled walls, the tension easing just enough to breathe. It was a shared moment, lightening the mood even as it carried the weight of everything unspoken between you.

“Another laugh? Wow, big night for me,” he said, eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“Shut up,” you replied, but the smile lingered on your lips, a reluctant acceptance of the warmth blooming in your chest. 

“Make me,” he challenged, stepping even closer, invading your space in a way that made you take pause.

The space between you had shrunk, and Jungkook  couldn’t remember when that had happened. His heart raced, the alcohol in his system blurring what he usually felt for you with something else entirely. What was worse was that you were also caught up in the same whirlwind of confusion and longing.

The only sound in the room was the muffled music drifting in from outside the door and the uneven rhythm of your breathing, mingling in the charged air around you. This is insane, Jungkook thought, his pulse quickening as he took in the way your eyes glimmered under the harsh bathroom lights.

Your gaze fell to his lips and then shot back to his eyes, so fast it was a fleeting moment, but he noticed. It felt like time had slowed, every heartbeat echoing in the silence between you. Is this really happening? Again? Jungkook couldn’t shake the feeling that everything had shifted, and suddenly, you looked different too—more inviting.

You cleared your throat, breaking the silence, desperate to dispel the thoughts swirling in your mind. Focus. It doesn’t matter. Except it did. Jungkook was looking at you with a hunger you recognized, a look that sent shivers down your spine.

“What?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, thick with tension.

“Nothing.” He looked away, but the moment felt too heavy, too filled with unsaid words.

As soon as Jungkook averted his gaze, he found himself drawn back to you, the magnetic pull almost irresistible. You both stared at each other for a moment, your hearts racing in tandem, minds swirling with the same thoughts. What the hell are we doing? You knew you weren’t sober enough to think this through, yet a huge part of you was screaming… just do it.

“It’s not a good idea.” You say. The words felt forced, almost painful to admit.

“It’s not,” he agreed too quickly, as if the very notion scared him.

“We shouldn’t.” You stood up straighter, your defenses momentarily flaring.

“No.” Jungkook adjusted himself as well, clearing his throat, trying to regain some composure. “And it could be… a problem.”

“We’ve both been drinking. So we are just confused.” You kept your eyes locked onto his, desperate for him to understand every word you were saying, even as your heart raced in contradiction.

“We aren’t thinking straight.”

You looked down, feeling the urge to reach out and touch him clawing at your resolve. Get a grip, you thought, trying to pull yourself back from the edge.

“You repulse me. It’s not what I want.” You said, shaking your head to ground yourself in reality. Right? This is just the alcohol talking. I don’t really want this.

“I can’t stand you.” Jungkook said. Any other hour day or time this was true, except for right now.

You didn’t move, the silence wrapped around the both of you like a fog. You wanted it, you wanted to kiss him. Every second the two of you stood here the closer you were giving in. You wanted to give in so bad. He really was the serpent, and you were going to take the forbidden fruit he offered.

This didn’t feel the same as last time. Last time it was quick and rash. No thought, just an impulsive decision. Now it was like you were making a decision that was going to change everything. 

And yet you couldn’t help it.

“Kiss me.” You look from his eyes to his lips again, lingering longer. 

Jungkook paused. Asking himself if he should do this. Except he answered it for himself, and decided to go slow. He tilted his face to meet yours. Almost like he wanted to wait for you to meet him but he knew you wouldn't. You wanted him to chase after you, to come to you. So he didn’t wait a second longer. Pressing his lips to yours. 

That cigarette taste completely takes you over again. Not as intense as before, it was almost like a hint. Yet you could care less about it, because it was now familiar. You met him with as much need as he gave you. You needed more so you took it a step forward and begged for more. Each kiss was getting more desperate and somehow your hands managed to find their way into his hair. Jungkooks finding their way onto your hips.

One sober thought slapped you in the face, “What are we doing?” You pulled away from him breathless but you paused just looking at him. Then kissing him again, like you needed it to survive.

“We shouldn’t.” Jungkook just soon after, pulling so slightly away but kissing you again.His whole body betraying him.

 One of his hands hiking one of your thighs up around his waist. He pressed his body into yours. You were completely pressed into the wall behind you. 

“We… I,” you pull away again, you have to swallow for a second. You take a moment and are looking between his eyes. Somehow they were all shiny and sparkly in this terribly lit bathroom. He was breathing just as hard as you and his heart pounding even louder. He didn’t make any space between the two of you. “I don’t know what I was going to say.” 

You both felt extremely sober but drunk on this feeling, on this thrill. Completely clear about what was happening. 

“Probably some excuse about how awful I am.” Jungkook kissed along your jaw and down your neck. Your skin was so sensitive and you felt like every time he kissed you, every touch was electric. 

“You are.” You were trying to think of any reason to stop, you came up with nothing. 

“Yeah well, not awful enough that I can't kiss you.” Jungkook leaves a small bite on the skin of your neck, and you let out a small moan. Your eyes widen as soon as you do it and Jungkook is immediately filled with amusement.

“Don’t say a word.” 

“Don’t worry. I don’t feel like talking.” He pulled himself away from your neck and kissed you again, slipping his tongue into your mouth. He had you wrapped up in him all over again.

You thought the lip piercing would get in your way but it actually went unnoticed. Your hands found their way to either side of his face. If anyone was becoming addicted, it was you. Kissing him was like sipping poison from a decorated chalice, beautiful to view but bitter for the soul. Yet, you couldn’t get enough. 

It was painfully clear how turned on Jungkook was getting. With your leg that was wrapped around his waist, you use your leverage to push him into you. The pressure breaks him out of the kiss a bit, moaning himself. You smiled devilishly, his eyes were shut. You pull him closer, you take the chance to kiss down his neck. Sucking a little on each spot. He leaned into your touch. Enjoying each one. 

“We-… oh god.” He placed one of his hands on the wall steadying himself. “We should get out of here.” 

“Why?” You say and you kiss him again. He pulls away for a second breathing hard again. 

“As great as bar bathroom sex is,” he was being sarcastic, “I prefer a bed.” 

“Good point.” You pull away for a second. Wiping your mouth. You let the tiles hold you up again. Glancing over to the mirror, whatever lipstick you had on had completely transferred to Jungkook. You look at him and you wipe off any smudges you can see. Jungkook didn’t protest the action. Something almost domestic about it. 

Gross, he thought.

You watched his movements. He pushed his hair back, eyes closed for a second. His lack of contact now felt strange. You kept looking at his hands, how delicate his fingers were. You want them inside you. You wanted them on you. You needed him wrapped around you. You shook your head, you needed to get out of here. 

What the hell were you doing? 

You stepped around Jungkook. Before you could open the door Jungkook spun you around again, back against the door now. His hands on your cheeks. He kissed you again and you welcomed him without issue. Warmth invoked you all over again and it was almost like you could have let your whole body go slack. You couldn’t get enough, and it was clear he couldn’t either. It felt very easy and you didn’t hate it. 

“Jungkook.” You break away but he kisses you, you pull back again. “Let’s go.” 

“You’re right.” He breaks away from you and he forces himself to take the largest step back he can from you. 

You flatten your hair down, then you open the bathroom door and slip out. Luckily no one was in the hall. You assume Jungkook was going to wait a moment before following you so it didn’t appear that the two of you were in there together. There was no way you would be able to leave without saying goodbye to Ash or Hoseok, so you needed to find them first. You couldn’t even hear the music with how loud your heart was pounding in your ears.

After a minute of searching you found them both tucked in a corner looking at their phones. Probably texting you or three seconds away from calling the police. You cringed and approached them. 

Ash looked up and her eyes widened at the sight of you. “Jesus christ where have you been?”

“I’m so so sorry.” You hug her and then hug Hoseok. “I got swept away by the people and then I just needed to sit in the bathroom for a while. I was so dizzy.” Not a total lie but still bullshit not the less.

“Text next time okay?” Hoseok gripped your shoulder hard and gave you a small shake. You nod in return. 

“I promise. I will. I will never let that happen again. I do think I just need to go home. I’ve had a little too much tonight.” You nod. 

“Do you need one of us to come with you?” Ash face twisted in concern but you give her a reassuring smile so she won’t press further. 

“No I live so close and I will text you as soon as I get there.” You nod. 

It takes a little more convincing but the two of them let you go with some goodbyes. Once you break away from them you try to see if you can spot Jungkook maybe hovering close by or something. You don’t immediately find him but you decide if you leave he will have to come out the same way. You find your way to the exit and make it outside. You realize this meeting up thing would have been easier if you had Jungkook's number, but alas here you were. Just waiting and hoping he wouldn’t make a fool out of you.

After a minute of waiting on the street and watching people pass you by, Jungkook emerged from the door.

“So you didn’t run away.” He teased, you roll your eyes. Hugging your arms to protect from the cold. 

“Nights not over. Still plenty of time to get away.” Was this all a bad idea? 

“So…” he looked around, probably to see if anyone you knew was around. “Mine or yours?” 

Jungkook could care less where you went but he just want to go now. 

You hadn’t actually considered it. You weren’t sure if you wanted him in your place. You didn’t really bring people back home. You always went to theirs, made it easier to detach and never talk again. Jungkook was different, there was no detachment that could be done so easily here. 

“Yours.” You say. Stick to the normal routine. 

“Okay.” He didn’t protest.

Jungkook calls a car and it doesn’t take very long to pick you guys up. You both are quiet the whole ride. Jungkook didn’t live terribly far so it made it quick. Too quick, too quick for you to talk yourself out of going. The moment in the bathroom kept replaying in your mind. How you got from point A to B.

 It was like one second you two were magnets that were pushing each other apart and then the next you were desperately trying to stay stuck together. When it used to be you would push each other apart. 

After too long you arrived. Jungkook let the both of you inside and then you were going up the elevator. Still nothing, you had no idea what he was thinking. No idea if maybe he also was regretting his choice. He didn’t look like he had anything to say to you, which to be fair, he never did. You followed him down a hall a ways and he unlocked his apartment. 

Once you had made it inside Jungkook flicked on his lights. It was actually quite spacious. Everything was really clean and he had good taste in decoration. It had a large living room and a separated kitchen. There was a hall that connected off the living room that probably led to his room.

Jungkook tugged off his shoes and you followed, taking off yours. 

He stepped inside but you almost stayed glued. The mental roadblock had finally hit. Jungkook noticed and looked back at you. 

“Cat got your tongue?” He observed you for a moment, you clenched your fists out of comfort. 

“Something like that.” You sigh, you don’t look at him, “Your place is… nice.” 

“Then why aren’t you coming in?” He leaned on the wall next to him. “Do I have to invite you in, like a vampire?” 

“Haha, very funny.” Your voice dripped with sarcasm, “More like I’m talking myself into it.” 

“I see. We’ll, doors right there, feel free to run.” He saunters back over to you, pointing to the door behind you. “Can get out now while you still can.” 

He came as close as he felt you were comfortable with. There was that feeling all over again, like everything in you was pulling you towards him. 

“Not a word to anyone?” You clear your throat. 

“Deal.” 

With that you pull him into you and you kiss him. One of his hands on the back of your neck and the other on your waist. Both of you walking backwards into the apartment. Each kiss was more and more urgent. Jungkook managed to spin the both of you around and was walking you back to his bedroom. Your hands found their way to get his jacket off and pulling his shirt over his head. He broke away from you to pull it off. Immediately kissing you again once he discarded it. Your hands wrapped around him, his warm skin welcoming the touch of your hands.

You both split again to get you out of your clothes until you were just in your underwear and bra. With your frenzied movements you have somehow made it into his room.  

Jungkook pulled away, then got his hands under your thighs and quickly laid you back on his bed. You yelped a little at the sudden movement. Jungkook was immediately on top of you again, placing himself between your legs most of his weight on you, he kissed you again. You felt like you hadn’t had a breath in several minutes. 

He paused for a moment though and leaned back a little, he just stared. . 

“Let me take this off.” He looked at your bra. 

“Okay.” You sat up on your elbows. “Why?” 

“I didn’t get to see them last time. I want to see all of you.” He looked down to the rest of you for a moment but then back to your eyes. 

“You really are obsessed with me huh?” You were the one desperate to have him closer. 

“Just for tonight. Tomorrow I’ll go back to not being able to stand you.” He finally gives in and start to suck on your neck, using one of his hands to keep your head in place. 

A quiet moan leaves you at the feeling. He had already had you figured out. Where you tick. He didn’t stay there long, he pulled himself away enough to get his hand under you to undo your bra. Pulling it down your arms and throwing it somewhere in the room. You lay back down flat on your back. Jungkook took no time to get his hands on your breasts. Holding them in his hands and massaging them. He leans his head down and takes one of your nipples into his mouth and continues to massage your other breast. You just watched him, you a little bit into the sight of him being all over you. He swirls his tongue around your nipple. You felt yourself getting wetter. You had moved your hips to find some pressure, you were dying to be touched.

“Jungkook.” It came out sort of whiny and strained. You mentally pounded yourself for how desperate you sounded. 

He pulled away from you. He also looked surprised. 

“Needy are we?” He had an amused smile, he held all the cards.. “What do you want?” 

“Just touch me. Please.” God you were pathetic. This was a new low. You needed it bad though, you want to cum whatever way he wanted you too. 

“Oh how the mighty have fallen,” he was very amused by the sight of you begging. He would have loved to see more of it if he didn’t really want to eat you out. 

Then Jungkook took the moment to take off his pants. He looked as if he was going to take off his underwear as well but then hesitated. 

He hovers above you again, Jungkook thought for a moment. Something that could work you up. Something maybe a little surprising even for himself to admit, “One more honest confession from me. You looked really good tonight.”

“What?” You were stunned, he sounded extremely sincere. 

“I have never met someone who gets on my actual last nerve.” He shook his head, “but I wanted to fuck you again so badly, didn’t matter how much you bothered me.” 

You didn’t realize words could turn on you on so much, but it was working. Let alone coming from Jungkook, 

“What did you think about?” Curiosity was getting the better of you.

“How I really want to eat you out, I wanted to make you cum on my tongue.” He moved back over you, kissing you and breaking away. “Plus I wanted to see your tits and they did not disappoint.” 

Jungkook hoping in his mind this was working. He wasn’t out of practice but you really were the only person he had slept with in a while, and the fact that he didn’t know how you worked made him a little nervous. What he didn’t quite understand is that it didn’t take much to work you up. 

“What else?” You wanted to close your legs, you needed some relief between your legs but Jungkook wasn’t going to let that happen. 

“I could have fucked you in the bathroom, no I would have fucked you in the bathroom. If you had kissed me any longer I would have.” He came very close to your ear. You closed your eyes, just listening to him. 

You swallow hard and nod. You wanted to play it much cooler than you had been. “I don’t see why I should care at all about that.” You start to chew on your bottom lip. 

“I keeping wondering how many times I could make you cum. How many times I could make you fall apart, with my hands, with my tongue, and my cock.” 

Yeah you were getting so high just on his words. 

“God please Jungkook,” you had enough though, “Please touch me, please just do something.”

 “Thank god.” He also couldn’t take it anymore. 

He kissed you but it was so quick because he kissed his way down your neck and then your chest and then your stomach. He started sliding off your underwear and you don’t resist him at all. It was painfully clear how wet you were, Jungkook was tired of not being all over you though. He examines you for a moment and then licks over your clit without much warning. You moan apprehensively. Your words were completely lost. 

Jungkook did it again a few more times. He wrapped his hands around your legs keeping them apart. You wanted to squeeze his head between your thigh so badly but you couldn’t budge under his grip. You placed your hands on his head. Jungkook licks your clit in a side to side motion. He had you in the palm of his hand now. He knew it. You were going to come quickly at this rate, he had gotten you so wound up. You grip onto his hair at the sensation, Jungkook then pulls back from to stick his tongue into your pussy. Immediately licking all of the arousal that been coming out of you. He kept moving his tongue in and out of you over and over. So warm and he found his way around you quickly.

“Fuck.” You said it long and dragged out as Jungkook continued fuck you with his tongue. “Don’t stop.”

He hums against you in response, he wasn’t going to give you any second of recovery. He wanted you to cum in his mouth, and he was going to take you to the end. Jungkook let go of his grip on your legs, allowing you close your thighs around him. You were getting close. You were a little impressed and so was he. You were starting to twitch a little with each touch. Moans just kept falling from you pathetically, you just didn’t care. Your hips began moving on his mouth subconsciously. He followed your lead. He loved every second of this. 

You managed to get yourself to look down at him to watch what he was doing, to your surprise he was already watching you. Mouth buried between your legs. His eyebrows furrowed, his stare so serious and full of lust. He was eating up every second watching you fall apart. 

“Shit.” You lay your head back, “Don’t look at me like that.” 

He paused for a second but spitting on your clit and taking his hand there to rub you. 

“Why not?” He hummed. 

“It’s… confusing.” It was confusing, you still hated him but that look. Your feelings of hate and lust we’re mixing dangerously together, 

“You’re just… so hot when you are about to cum.” He replaced his hand with his mouth again. He needed to make you cum. 

“Shut up.” You moan, as he presses his tongue flat into your clit, putting pressure on it and licking upwards. Then sticking his tongue back inside you.

You didn’t have time to think. Before you could get anything else out you felt your climax hit you like a truck, you twitch and tried pulling away from Jungkook but he held onto you pumping his tongue in and out of you as your walls tried to clench around his tongue. Your cum spilling into Jungkook's mouth. He kept a tight grip on your thighs and just continued his motions as you rode out your climax. 

After a minute you settled. You were breathing heavily and your eyes shut. Jungkook pulled himself away. It was really unfortunate how much he liked how you tasted. Jungkook took one of your hands and pulled you up so you were sitting up. You opened your eyes and looked at him but before anything he kissed you. Sort of tender at first, then his tongue was in your mouth. There was a new taste present, it wasn’t bad at all. It was definitely your cum. It was nice, maybe way too intimate for the two of you but you didn’t mind. He cupped your face in his hand. 

“It’s really annoying how good you taste.” He kissed down your neck to your shoulder. They were delicate little kisses. You were trying to come back down. After all it was a pretty good orgasm.

“I would say do that again but I don’t think I’ll stay awake after.” You lean your head to the side, giving him better access. “God this sucks.”  

“What did I do now?” He pulls back and looks at you unamused. 

“Because you are the most obnoxious person ever but this makes it much harder to hate you.” 

“I think it makes it more fun if you hate me.” He kisses you, you slide your tongue into his mouth and sigh comfortably.

You both were getting really impatient though. You really wanted to ride him. You needed to be fucked so you could be done with this so you didn’t have to admit you wanted him to eat you out again and again. Jungkook needed to come soon though, he was so hard in his boxers he was afraid he might explode. He had any number of ways he wanted you but didn’t care what you wanted to do to him. 

You pull back from him, “Let me touch you.” 

“Don’t say it like that.” he drops his head, resting it on your shoulder. 

“Why?” You were having the exact effect you wanted. He lifts his head and looks at you. 

“Like you said, it gets… confusing.” 

You smirk and you stand up with him for a moment but then you turn him and have him sit on the side of the bed now. He takes off his underwear almost like understanding your thoughts. He was really hard and his tip was all red. He didn’t take his eyes off your hands and just watched you every movement. 

You hold his chin in your hand and have him look up at you. He almost looked a little pouty and pathetic, almost cute. He placed his hands onto your hips but let’s you take the lead. You then take both of your legs and you straddle his lap, his dick sitting between the both of you. He took in a deep breath from the contact. 

“I guess I could just leave.” You tease, you kiss one side of his neck. “I got what I needed. Could just leave you to yourself. Since it’s so confusing for the both of us.” You tease. 

Jungkook had closed his eyes and was shaking his head. In almost painful desperation. “Don’t.” His hands moved to your ass, hanging on to you now. “Seriously, please touch me. I won’t last much longer.” 

“What would you like?” You hold yourself away from him so you can see his face clearly.

“Sit on me.” He chased your lips and kissed you again. 

You continue to kiss him but you sit up on your knees. Reaching between the both of you to grab his dick. You stroke him a few times. He groans into your mouth from the contact, his tip was leaking precum. You stop for a second. 

“Do you have a condom?” 

Jungkook nodded, he reached over to a drawer next to his bed and pulled one out. You take it from him, unwrapped it. Using both of your hands and slowly roll it over his length, squeezing him on the way down. 

“Fuck.” His head falls back. He squeezed your ass in one of his hands.

You then lift yourself up again and line him up with your entrance. You knew you were going to be pretty sensitive so you just sink down just onto his tip. You were a bit overstimulated so you hiss, but you kept going sliding yourself down his length. Jungkook was letting small moans fall from his mouth. Then you fully sit down on him, filling you completely up. You moan a little yourself at the feeling. Jungkook was in complete ecstasy. You lift yourself up and sink back down onto him again. You both moan into each other. 

“Lay back.” You whisper in his ear, “It’ll be easier.”

Jungkooks complys, you push him down with one of your hands. This way you are able to get your knees on the bed a little better, and it allows you to get more leverage.  So you push yourself up and down in a quicker motion now. You keep your hands on his chest. With each move of your hips you begin to build a rhythm, your clit grazing his pelvic bone every time you fully sink down onto him.

“God I hate how good this feels.” You groan but out of pleasure. You mouth falling open. 

He’s smirking below you, breathing heavily. Barely keeping his eyes open. Feeling every little movement you made. Why did it have to feel with you of all people? Let alone really good. You full sit down on him for a moment taking a second to breath, his cock buried all the way inside you. You grind your hips on him, you were trying to find your high again. 

“Shit. Don’t stop.” Jungkook pleaded, he looked down to where his cock was inside you. Loving the way your bodies were connected. 

“Oh yeah?” Lifting yourself up and sank back down onto him again and grinding on him again.

“God I fucking hate how good you look right now.” He sounded so annoyed but it was getting you hot. 

“Stop.” You sigh, you pause for a second. Your knees needing a second to recover. 

“What?” He eyes you for a moment.

“Stop talking.” You breath for a second, you were going to come soon. You could feel it, your wall were throbbing and you were breathing so heavily. You didn’t want him to be able to get you off so easily. 

Jungkook on the other hand seemed somewhat concerned, worried you may be in pain. “Is something wrong?” He sat up to meet your face. 

“Nope.” You almost cut him off holding a hand up to him, “I’m just really close.” 

“Oh yeah?” He lets out a breathy laugh and it caused his pelvis to shift under you and you moan softly. 

“Oh I see,” Jungkook reached his hands around to your ass. Hanging on to your hips for a moment. Forcing you up and down on him and a pathetic whine falls from you. “You want to cum again huh?” His voice was quiet and deep.

“No.” The word came out weak, It was a sad protest, very clearly a lie.

“Getting yourself all wrapped around my dick making you want to cum?” He kisses your jaw, you had yours eyes screwed shut. You managed to look at him through your tired hooded eyes.

“Yes.” You give in. Jungkook forced your hips up and down on him again and another whine falls from your mouth. 

“What can I do?” Jungkook sighs. 

“Keep talking to me, and I’ll keep fucking you.” You try to feel yourself back in, shutting your eyes again. You did not want to see his face. 

“You got it.” 

You go back slowly working up to the pace you were at before. Every once and a while sinking all the way down and grinding your hips on him. Jungkook breathing heavily, steadies his mind for a second. 

“You’re doing so good for me. Fucking my cock like this. God you look so sexy like that.” His hands were running up and down your back. “Hating me comes with some perks right?” 

“Fuck off.” You moan, you kept riding him though. Oh it was working, your high was building. You weren’t sure how long Jungkook had left in him. 

“If I had known a truce could lead to this I would have offered one sooner.” He forces you down onto himself for a moment and you gasp. “Cause now I can’t stop thinking what it would be like to see you suck me off and come in your mouth.” 

Jungkook would never get to see it but he was definitely thinking about it now. So were you, what it would be like to suck him until he came? Making him wriggle above you, forcing your mouth all the way onto him. 

“I’m gonna-…” you stutter, you keep your pace but you feel it coming. 

“Cum?” Jungkook fills in the blank, “Cum for me, brat.” He took the small moment to tease you.

“God shut up.” You go a little faster and before you can get anything else out, you’re cumming all over again. And Jungkook stopped you, forcing all the way down on his cock. You bite into his shoulder. Completely losing yourself. Your walls were fighting against being filled up by him. Squeezing him over and over. This one was a little quicker than the one earlier. You could feel some of your cum leaking down into his lap. 

You try to move again but it’s so sensitive you stop again. 

“Just give me a second.” You breathe, placing both your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. Jungkook had no issue waiting. 

“No worries, you’re a pretty good cock warmer anyways.” He jokes, you push him back down into the bed away from you. You just sit for a second. 

“God you’re annoying.” You push past the sensitivity and start riding Jungkook again. Going as quick as you can. You needed him to cum now. 

Jungkook let you. He let you fuck him. He was completely taken by the feeling. He was actually much closer than you thought because before long he pushed his hips up into you. You keep fucking him, pumping his dick for everything he has, you can feel him fill up the condom in you. Once he seems to be coming down you come to a slow stop. 

You both were spent.

You got yourself off of him. Sitting on the bed next to him for a second. Just breathing, your legs were shaking from the fatigue of the position you were in. You had to force yourself up though, Jungkook had his bathroom connected to his room. So you darted for it. Not saying a word, locking yourself inside. Jungkook watched you go for a moment but then got himself up to clean himself up. 

You take care of what you need too. You didn’t hear Jungkook moving around outside of the bathroom at all. You open the door sort of wishing you had brought your clothes in with you so you could redress. You step out of the bathroom and Jungkook was putting a new pair of boxers on. Then grabbing a shirt and putting it on, he then crashed out onto his bed. You understood the feeling. You tip toed in into the room putting your underwear on.

You had slept with Jungkook again…

You found your shirt and threw it on. Turning around and seeing Jungkook on the bed. He noticed you starting to redress yourself and managed to grab his phone looking at the time. It would have been way too late for you to get a ride home.

“What are you doing?” He asks. 

“What does it look like? I’m leaving.” You walk around and manage to find more of your things. Grabbing your pants with the intention to put them on but getting stopped.

“Why? It’s going to be too late to get a ride.” 

“Because this was just a hookup and I should go home.” You point between the two of you. You pull your phone out to see the time. God it was so late.

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s like 2 am, just… stay.” He waves his hand to the spot next to him. 

You hesitate at the offer. “No no no,” you almost laugh. “That’s not… no.” 

“Y/N…” he looks at you seriously, very tired, but serious. “Stay.”

For a brief moment you thought about protesting. About fighting him on it but the more you stood the more your exhaustion was hitting you. The bed was tempting and it would be easier just to stay. 

So, you lay yourself down. Jungkook then pulls the covers over you. Moving and making as much space in the bed he can for you. You stayed glued to your side with your back to him, and his back turned to you as well. It didn’t take much for either of you to pass out soon after.

Just for tonight. 

You woke up to sunlight hitting your face—a surprising sensation since your room never caught the morning sun. Disoriented, you blinked against the brightness, and the events of last night came rushing back, crashing into you like a tidal wave. Your eyes shot open, heart pounding as you glanced around the unfamiliar room. Panic set in, and you bolted upright.

“Oh my god…” You whispered, feeling the dread seep into your bones. You looked to a still sleeping Jungkook beside you; the bed was a mess of tangled sheets. You threw the covers off discreetly and quickly realized that, yes, you were right—you hadn’t put your pants back on. The sight of your bare legs only confirmed the mess you’d gotten yourself into.

“No, no, no...” You buried your face into your hands. Not again. You wanted to blame it on drinking, but you were sober enough to make this decision and so was he.

Your head throbbed, partly from the brewing headache and partly from the sheer disbelief at your own actions. Jungkook began to stir next to you with a groan. He flipped over so he was facing you. He opened his eyes for a brief moment and looked at you and closed them again. 

But then Jungkook took a moment to realize, yes you were in fact in his bed, so his eyes shot open and he pushed himself up with horror written on his face.

“Awe crap...”

。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

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。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

[tightjeansjavi]

♡ And They Were Roommates ♡

chapter 1 : The Guard Dog

Pairing | Joel Miller x Logan Howlett x f!reader

A/N: this chapter got away from me so fast, but I’m really pleased with how it turned out! After seeing Deadpool & Wolverine for the first time a couple weeks ago, I immediately re-entered my marvel phase and rewatched both Deadpool movies and all of the x-men/wolverine movies (yes, it’s an obsession) the Wolverine was always one of my favorite marvel characters outside of Deadpool and Iron Man. I’m so happy that myself and others are taking the leap to write for him and other characters 🥹 I hope you all enjoy this mini series! I’m super excited for it 💗 comments and reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you @sinsofsummers for betaing and letting me yap at u! And thank u @syd-djarin for also letting me yap 🥰

word count: 8.8k

Summary: after saving the world with Wade, Logan finds himself in a new, strange world. Human life is scarce, (as far as he can see). There’s weird looking mushroom-headed fucks, and he doesn’t have a clue what year it is, either. After traveling aimlessly for months, the Wolverine runs into you, and your guard dog of a boyfriend, Joel Miller.

Warnings: mature themes, smut, implied age gap, brief mention of a gunshot wound, touch of angst, language, derogatory comments about mutants (by Joel) alcohol consumption, brief mention of ouid, pining, hints of a throuple/love triangle, voyeurism (sorta) this Logan is the ‘worst’ variant, but you can picture him however you’d like!, reader has no physical descriptions (I imagine her to be short, but she is a blank slate) +18, minors dni!

series masterlist

If someone had told you before the outbreak that in 20ish years, (math is not my strong suit, sorry) you would be living the life of “luxury” with not only one guard dog as a boyfriend, but two who also were boyfriends, you would have laughed in that person's face and told them that they were in fact insane—but now? Now you wouldn’t even question it. Your life in Jackson before meeting Joel Miller and Logan Howlett was the closest thing to normalcy that you had experienced since the outbreak. You had a home again, a job, and a purpose. But like all things, you were craving more; something new and exciting. Instead of you finding it, Joel Miller found you—or was it the other way around?

He was old fashioned in every sense. Insisting on properly pursuing you after you caught his eye at the corner of the bartop of the tipsy bison. Your care-free spirit and intoxicating aroma had his mind reeling at the thoughts of what he could be doing to you if it was just the two of you in the Bison, all alone with no distractions or disturbances.

He hadn’t thought about women, or sex, or settling down with someone in over 20 years. But here you were, throwing back another shot of whiskey and subconsciously unnerving him further without having any idea as to what it was that you were doing to him.

You were, however, aware that he was watching you, carefully between his harsh swigs from the glass that was perfectly perched in one of his meaty palms.

Mr. New and Exciting is right there. What are you waiting for? Your mind pointed out the obvious as if there was a flashing arrow right above the man’s head of thick, salt and peppered streaked curls that you were dying to run your fingers through.

You downed the remaining contents of your glass for that extra boost of liquid courage and made your move before he could even properly execute his own plan to approach you.

He stiffened, jaw ticking when he felt the bare heat from your arm brush against his own, sending sparks shooting down his forearm all the way down to where his large hand was tightly gripping the glass.

“I’m here to break the ice between us, stranger. Y’know, considering you’ve been staring at me for the past…hour.”

“Excuse me?” He scoffed, bringing the rim of his glass up to his lips for a moment. “Think you oughta get your eyes checked out first before ya start makin’ accusations.” He grumbled, low and deep. His eyes flickered in your direction, brows furrowed together across his forehead in a harsh line.

“Think my eyes are working just fine, thank you very much.”

He tore his harsh gaze away from your face and focused his attention on the mounted moose head on the wall instead. “Buzz off, darlin’. I ain’t lookin’ for conversation.” He snarled and went to slide off the worn down seat, but he was frozen in his spot when your hand wrapped around his bulging bicep, and he felt like a leashed, obedient dog.

“You think I’m here to talk?” You laughed and he immediately felt a hot flush rise from his neck and creep up his face at your brash confidence.

“Ain’t that what most women want nowadays?” He countered your boldness with a gravelly chuckle that sent warmth immediately spreading across your entire body at the scratchy, deep, sound that emitted from his throat.

“Lucky for you, I’m not like most women. Now, how about instead of eye fucking me from across the bar, why don’t we skip the small talk and you take me home instead?” You said with a coy smile and a suggestive tilt of your chin. You loosened your grip around his bicep only to then drag your fingers down the expanse of his arm, watching the muscles there subtly flex from your featherlight touch.

He weighed out his options, glancing around the crowded bar, leaning in close to crowd your personal space entirely. His eyes flickered down towards your lips, and then his heedy gaze met your own almost in a challenge.

“Don’t gotta tell me twice, darlin.’” He rasped, reaching for your hand.

And only when you found yourself with your back pressed against Joel Miller’s front door, and his lips attacking your own, did he finally tell you his name between bruising kisses and wandering hands.

And well, the rest is history.

~~

Your arrangement with Joel worked flawlessly for an entire year, and while you both were content without having any labels, being known as Joel Miller’s girl never failed to make your heart melt, and he fucking turned into a goddamn puddle on the floor anytime he got to hear refer to him as your boyfriend.

Life truly could not have gotten better for either of you, but it certainly could get worse in Joel’s case of repeated misfortune. That misfortune being Logan Howlett, the last standing mutant to exist in this universe and now the bane of Joel’s existence.

“What in the fuck are those things comin’ out of your hands?!” A very angry, cold, and bewildered Joel Miller barked over the metallic click of the Wolverine's claws being unsheathed between his knuckles.

“Ya got two workin’ eyes, don’t ya, pal? The fuck do they look like to you?!” The stranger growled, advancing towards the other man.

“Joel?!” Another man’s voice was heard in the distance, followed by thundering hooves and a sharp whinny.

“I got this handled, Tommy!” The other man snapped when Tommy rode up beside him, immediately hopping down from the saddle with his rifle at the ready at the immediate threat in front of them.

Logan was able to quickly piece together with limited information that these two men were brothers, just based on their similar looks and mannerisms.

“Listen, boys, if I was you, I’d lower them guns and pretend that ya never crossed paths with me.”

“Are those fuckin’ knives coming out of his fists?!” Tommy Miller whispered to his brother who nodded in confirmation.

“Yeah, he’s some mutant freak. Somethin’ FEDRA musta cooked up.” Joel responded in an equally hushed whisper.

Logan swiftly turned his head to the side, an audible cracking sound in his neck could be heard through the chilling evening air. “You’re really gonna regret callin’ me that, bub.” He snarled, barring his teeth like a rabid dog and advanced forward with full intent to slash his claws through the other man’s chest.

Joel’s reflexes were surprisingly fast even in his age, and when Logan advanced forward, he pulled the trigger on his own rifle, the shot ringing through and startling a flock of birds in a nearby tree, sending them flying upwards towards the sky in a haphazardly direction, squawking loudly.

The bullet hit Logan square in the chest, but the Wolverine barely even staggered backwards from the force of the bullet, and he let out an animalistic, nothing-short-of-pissed-off growl while the two men a short distance away had equal looks of horror on their faces when Logan’s body began to push the embedded bullet out from his chest and heal the once open wound.

The single bullet landed in the snow beneath Logan’s boots just as a high pitched whistle could be detected in the distance.

“What the actual fuck…his body can regenerate itself?!” Tommy whispered to his brother in disbelief.

Joel ignored him and raised his rifle towards the Wolverine again, thumb hovering over the trigger when you appeared on your horse through the snowy cluster of evergreens.

“JOEL! HOLD YOUR FIRE!” You demanded and swung your leg over the saddle, landing on the ground without fault and quickly inserted yourself between the Miller Brother’s and the seething Wolverine with your hands lifted in the air above your head.

“What the hell are you doin’ here?!” Joel diverted his attention to you and your untimely arrival. “Get behind me! We don’t know who or what the fuck this guy is, and he’s clearly dangerous!”

“Listen to your girl, bub. Lower your fuckin’ gun and jus’ let me pass, and we can forget this whole thing fuckin’ happened!” Logan yelled over your shoulder, nostrils flaring and muscles flexing with unbridled rage.

“Will you both just shut the fuck up?!” You snarled in frustration and glared over your shoulder at your unpredictable boyfriend. Let’s all just lower our weapons and take some deep, calming, breaths.”

“Un-fuckin’ believable.” The Wolverine scoffed, fighting the urge to roll his eyes at your assertiveness.

Joel and Tommy both slowly and very reluctantly lowered their rifles towards the ground, but the Wolverine’s extended metal claws did not retract at your demand.

“That includes you too, knives.”

Logan couldn’t help but smirk at your choice of nickname given the current circumstances. Man, you had some bigger balls than your boyfriend, that was for damn sure.

“Say it to me a little more gently, sweetheart. Your boyfriend over there got me all riled up, and I jus’ really wanna slash him to bits right now.” He cooed, smirk only then expanding into a wide, toothy grin at both your reaction, and Joel’s.

“Hey! Don’t you fuckin’ talk to her, you—”

“Alright, boys!” You hissed and turned your back so it was fully facing Joel. “Now, this ain’t some contest to see who has the bigger cock, alright? Looks like y’all got off on the wrong foot…clearly.” You stated the obvious.

“Yeah, and I was just passin’ through the area when your boyfriend and I unfortunately crossed paths.” He said gruffly, hackles raised in irritation.

“You’ll have to excuse my boyfriend, he can be trigger happy at times, but within reason. So, let’s start this whole thing over, alright?”

“Think we should just send this freak on his way—”

“JOEL!” You and Tommy whispered loudly in unison.

“Maybe you oughta put a muzzle on that one. Seems like he can’t keep his fucking mouth shut.” Logan snickered.

“Yeah, don’t worry about him, alright? He’ll get muzzled later. So, uh—where exactly are you headed…?” You questioned him warily, realizing that you still didn’t know this mysterious man’s name.

As if he was capable of reading your mind, he could tell by your facial expressions and body language alone that you were wondering what his name was.

“It’s Logan.” He answered your hypothetical question softly, far softer than he had spoken to Joel. “Logan Howlett. That’s my name. And to answer your question, I’m not headed anywhere in particular. Like I said, jus’ was passin’ through the area. Not lookin’ for trouble.” He lowered his fists to his sides, claws finally retracting into his knuckles, the skin healing over instantly.

“Logan.” You repeated his name just as softly. “I understand that you were just passing through, but unfortunately, we can’t just let people pass through without stopping them and questioning them.”

“Yeah, well, don’t think your boyfriend had any intention of just questioning me, sweetheart. S’a good thing that you arrived jus’ in time, cause the way that I see it…” he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and cockily tilted his head to the side, “you wouldn’t have a boyfriend anymore, and woulda been bringing what’s left of him back home in pieces.”

Joel’s muscles went rigid and his eyes darkened, appearing like two black holes instead of the comforting warm brown tone that you were accustomed to. He shook off Tommy’s hand immediately when he went to grab his shoulder to drag him away from the intense brewing situation.

You let out a sigh, rubbing your temples with your gloved fingers. Fucking men and their big dicks and even bigger egos. Un-fucking-believable.

“That is quite enough!” You snapped through the frigid air. “Tommy, please be a doll and escort your brother back to town. I can handle this on my own.”

“Like hell—”

“She’s got this handled, Joel. She’s more than capable. If she ain’t back within the next hour, we’ll come back.” Tommy reassured him with a gentle, yet firm squeeze to his shoulder.

“Fine.” Joel muttered under his breath, pulling his shoulder free again and took a few steps towards you. “See you at home, baby.” He whispered only for your ears to hear and pulled you in for a swift kiss on the lips.

Logan couldn’t help but let out a low wolf whistle at the sight. Fair play. He mused to himself.

“Yeah, see you at home.” You mumbled against his lips, kissing him back and gently shoving him away towards the direction of Tommy and their awaiting horses.

“That’s some guard dog of a boyfriend that you got yourself there, darlin’,” Logan said in amusement, unsheathing his middle claw in Joel’s direction with a condescending and dripping in arrogance grin.

“You have no idea.” You said with a light laugh, turning on your heel to face him again. “So, you’re just passing through the area, right?”

His middle claw retracted slowly with a clink, and he crossed his broad arms against his chest with a tight nod of his head. “Yeah, that’s right.”

“Are you infected?”

“The fuck—infected? I don’t got a goddamn clue what you’re talkin’ about, sweetheart.”

“Y’know, the cordyceps infection? The outbreak happened like…twenty somethin’ years ago, but there’s still infected roaming about.”

“Huh.” He chuckled softly, balancing his weight from one foot to the other. “That would explain the lack of humans that I’ve run into lately. This earth seems pretty damn scarce.”

“This…earth? I don’t think I quite pick up what you’re putting down, Logan.”

He pushed out a deep sigh and slowly dragged a hand over his face. “Don’t even get me started.”

“Alright, and your claws…have you always had them?”

He steeled his expression, lips curving downwards into a subtle frown, and his body language alone was an indication that you crossed an invisible boundary.

“Since I was a kid, yes.” He flexed his hands and stared at them as if they weren’t attached to his body. “Used to be less…metal.”

“And what about the fact that your body can regenerate itself and heal? Is that…part of your mutation?” You gestured to the bullet laying in the snow by his boots, still stained with his blood, and yet there was no sign of a wound in his chest any longer.

“Yeah. I still…feel physical pain like everyone else, but it only lasts for a second at most. Well, depending on the severity of the wound, and how many I sustained.”

A hidden flush rose up his cheeks and he coughed into his shoulder to hide his bashfulness from your prying eyes. He gave you a disgruntled look, nodding in an attempt to be polite, but it came out gruffer than he intended. “The hell is FEDRA?”

It was your turn to feel flustered beneath his stare, and stoic demeanor. You almost didn’t notice the way you spewed out the facts, familiar to you like the back of your own hand.

He inclined his head, but looked back up and narrowed his eyes. “And these…infected? They used to say that about us—I mean, me. What’s the difference?”

You tried not to look so shocked at his confessions of ignorance, and somehow managed to blurt out an explanation.

“Oh, those mushroom head lookin’ freaks? Yeah, I’ve run into them a few times here and there, but they all run away from me.” He shrugged. “What in god's green earth is a rat king?”

Your eyes widened drastically. You had never heard of such a thing. “You’re telling me that the infected run away from you? There’s no way—I mean, that’s a first. The rat king is…never mind. Let’s just hope you don’t meet one.”

“Might have somethin’ to do with the Adamantium is my guess. Gotta say, they’re pretty nasty lookin’.”

“Yeah, no shit.” You snorted under your breath. “Look, Joel is probably gonna kill me, but given the current circumstances…do you want to come back to town with me? You’re a long way from wherever you came from, and well, you look like you could use some rest and a proper meal.” You knew with full intent that offering Logan to come back to Jackson with you was risky for a multitude of reasons, and the biggest reason was knowing that Joel was gonna throw a fucking fit.

“I don’t think your boyfriend would really like that idea, sweetheart.” He said with a sigh, picturing what the next few months would be like in total isolation, with no reprieve or end.

“He’ll give me an earful about it, but morally, I can’t just leave you out here alone. So, are you capable of riding a horse?” You gestured with your thumb over your shoulder in the direction of your horse impatiently pawing at the snow.

“I suppose a bit of hospitality doesn’t sound all that bad. Y’all got liquor? Could use me a stiff drink about now. And yeah, I know a thing or two about riding.”

Oh.

“We got more than just liquor, Logan.” You leaned in with a small grin, “we got a bar, bacon, and endless whiskey that has since been perfected by Joel’s brother, Tommy. He’s the more reasonable one out of the pair.”

“Shit. Are ya serious? Bacon and whiskey?” His mouth was already watering at the phantom taste of liquor on his tongue. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a damn good drink.

“Deadly serious.”

“Well then, lead the way.” He nodded in your horse's direction.

You made the choice to stay in the front of the saddle while Logan situated himself on the back and instinctively wrapped his arms around you. “Sorry.” He whispered when he felt your body tense up in his loose grip. “Old habits.”

“S’alright. I just wasn’t expecting it is all.” You tighten your grip around the leather reins, squeezing your calves against the horse's side followed by a gentle click of your tongue to urge the horse into a trot.

The ride back to Jackson was a comfortably quiet one, and it was obvious that Logan wasn’t much of a small talker, and you were more than okay with that.

The only sound between you and him was the occasional squeak of the saddle, a soft snort from your horse, and the thundering hooves across the almost frozen landscape. You slowed to a lope, reaching behind you blindly into the saddlebag and grabbed a white flag, raising it in the air above your head.

The large, looming gates that protected Jackson from outside forces were suddenly pulled open, revealing the hidden community inside and Logan was completely awestruck.

You looked over your shoulder to see his reaction, and you couldn’t help the smile that slowly crossed over your lips at the sight of this brutish, and conflicted man, almost with tears in his eyes because he was seeing what remained of civilization and humanity at the core.

~~

To say that Joel was pissed when you showed up with that fucking mutant freak outside his front door was an understatement. Joel was livid—furious—charged up with rage the second he locked eyes with Logan.

“You have got to be fuckin’ kiddin’ me. You brought him home?!” Joel hissed between his teeth, almost trembling from how riled up he was.

Man, imagine if this fucker was unfortunate enough to meet Wade fucking Wilson. Logan thought to himself, shaking his head and chuckling under his breath at the mental image of Joel meeting Deadpool for the first time. What a sight that would be.

“Joel, I know you’re angry, and rightfully so, but he’s not infected, and it felt morally wrong for me to just leave him out there on his own.”

“Oh, so I guess we just fuckin’ take in strays now? Is that it? Y’know, you’re supposed to run these things by me first before you just do something irrationally stupid like this!” He hissed.

“Ellie was a stray, and you took her in. I see no difference in this, Joel.” You attempted to reason with him.

“Who’s Ellie?” Logan chimed in, leaned against the entryway with his arms crossed over his chest like he owned the damn place.

“None of your goddamn business, bud.” Joel snapped back quickly, his words cold and biting, but they had no effect on the Wolverine.

“Ellie is his kid. Well, his adopted daughter. Actually, wolvie, she’d lose her goddamn mind if she got to meet a real superhero like you.”

“Not a chance in hell. This—thing isn’t staying here, and he sure as fuck ain’t meetin’ my kid.”

“Ah, so we’ve gone from mutant freak to thing? I’ll take that as an improvement.” Logan snickered under his breath. “I ain't a hero. Far from it actually, so she would unfortunately be met with disappointment.”

“Okay, well, unfortunately, you aren’t the only one who calls the shots around here, Joel. Now, I promised Logan that I would get him a proper meal and a stiff drink. So, either suck it the fuck up and come with us, or stay here and pout like a little kid.”

Damn.

“I hate when you act like you got the bigger set of balls in the relationship, baby.” Joel grumbled under his breath and was already reaching for his discarded coat that was hanging along the well-loved couch.

“Actually, I do have the bigger set of balls, hun. You just need a little gentle reminder now and then.” You shot him a playful wink and pivoted on your heel just as Logan quickly moved out of the way so you could pass through the doorway.

Joel gave the other man a cold stare as he passed him, one that was returned with an acknowledging nod and a small grin before the door swung shut behind the three of you.

Logan had five straight glasses of whiskey in under 20 minutes, leaving you, Joel, and Tommy equally impressed and a tad concerned considering a normal man would surely be on his ass by now after consuming that much liquor in one sitting, but Logan didn’t even appear to be tipsy at all.

“Wanted to apologize to you fellas for how things went down earlier.” Logan announced over the loud chatter and leaned in over the bartop where Tommy was drying off a glass and Joel was swirling the amber contents of his own glass, lost in thought.

“No hard feelings, man.” Tommy was the first to speak up. “I’m sure she told ya why we acted that way in the first place, yeah? We get all kinds of folks crossin’ our paths on patrol, and as long as they ain’t infected, or appearing to be an immediate threat, we let ‘em in.”

“Well, apparently those who appear to be an immediate threat surpass the rules and get let in anyway.” Joel added, tone dripping in sarcasm over the rim of his glass against his lips.

Logan stiffened, jaw clenching and unclenching and he could feel the concealed claws beneath the skin on his knuckles just begging to be unleashed, but he held them at bay.

“I get it, bub. You’re viewing me as a threat, ain’t that right? I show up in your town as a stranger, an outcast with your girl, and you got your hackles raised like a goddamn guardog. Well, I can assure you that I’m not a threat. Learned the hard way a long time ago to not impose on another man’s relationship.”

“As if I’m gonna trust your word?” Joel scoffed, rolling his shoulders forward before he directly looked over at the other man. “I ain’t gonna win a fight with her on this one, but if I even catch a whiff of you tryin’ somethin’ on her, I’ll kick you out so goddamn fast.”

“Noted. Although, I think I’ll stick around for the time being. If your ego wasn’t so inflated, you would probably realize that keepin’ me around is gonna benefit you and this community.”

“Benefit me how exactly? If you’re talkin’ weapons, we don’t need your assistance there. We’re stacked with enough manpower in case there ever was an attack. No one’s got the balls to do that.”

"Like, adamantium.” Your voice floated sweetly over the two brooding men, as you slid into the empty seat between them. “Not only that, but the infected literally turn the other way when he’s crossed paths with them, and oh, let’s not forget that one of his mutation powers is that he can regenerate and heal himself which means he’s pretty much immortal.”

Joel’s face turned red hot with embarrassment with a twinge of irritation. He downed the rest of his glass and slammed it on the counter. He barked an order at his brother to top his glass off. “Bullshit.”

“Would be a shitty lie.” Logan rasped, sliding his empty glass in Tommy’s direction. “I’m older than you, bub.”

“I think I’ve had enough of fantasyland for one fuckin’ day. Adamantium this, mutation that, fucking knives coming out of your hands? Yeah, sure. Older than me? Fat fuckin’ chance, pal.” Joel scoffed, shaking his head and muttering more profanities under his breath.

“He’s like…at least a century old, Joel. If not older.”

“Who is at least a century old?” Ellie chimed in next to Joel as she leaned over the bartop. “Uncle Tommy, can you pour me a beer, pretty please?”

“Ellie.” Joel grumbled, “shouldn’t you be at home doin’ homework?”

Ah, so that’s the old man’s kid. Fitting.

“Dude, it’s the weekend, and I already finished my homework. Dina and I are goin’ to the movies later, but she’s at home freshening up.” Ellie reached over to mess up his hair, but Joel already knew what she was about to do and gently caught her wrist in his hand before she could even get close to his hair.

“The movies?” Logan's question immediately drew Ellie’s attention as Joel dropped her wrist.

“Never seen your face around here before. You new to town?”

“Somethin’ like that.” Logan shrugged. “You're Joel’s kid then?”

“The one and only.” She beamed proudly while Joel scowled. “Wait, so who is at least a century old? I know we’re not talking about you, dad. But you are getting up there. Is that another gray hair I’m detecting? Soon you’re gonna be wearing diapers—” her playful rambling was cut off by Joel’s sharp and scolding tone cutting through the air like a sharpened knife.

“ELLIE!” He half yelled, cheeks inflamed and face turning and even brighter shade of red.

“I’m only kidding! Well, half kidding! One day you will be wearing diapers, old man.”

Logan laughed, a full on, belly-ache inducing laugh where the corner of his eyes crinkled and his smile lines appeared. “Holy shit. Your kid’s a riot!”

“I’ve been telling him that forever, and he just won’t admit it!” She giggled and gently wrapped her arm around Joel’s shoulder to give him a half hug to which he begrudgingly hugged her back, trying to hide his small grin from being noticed.

“You remind me a lot of…well, an old friend of sorts.” Logan looked down.

Ellie finally found her chance to ruffle Joel’s and seized it before he could stop her. “What was the name of your friend? I’m assuming he’s dead, so rest in peace.”

“Ellie!” Joel softly scolded her, “it’s rude to assume that someone died—”

“Wade Wilson.” Logan said softly, staring down at his empty glass with a sigh.

Ellie’s eyes expanded, blown wide in shock and utter disbelief. She was a comic book nerd, and well—a nerd in general. Perhaps it was just sheer coincidence that this stranger knew a Wade Wilson. Surely, it couldn’t be the Wade Wilson that she immediately was thinking of, right?

“Holy fuck. Please don’t crush my dreams and tell me that I’m wrong, but are you talking about the Wade Wilson as in Deadpool? Dude—are you an Avenger?” Ellie leaned over the bartop in Logan’s direction, voice low in a hushed whisper.

“Kid, I’m the furthest thing from an Avenger.” He said quietly, sinking his weight back against the bartop stool. “But I did know Wade pretty well. The fucker is probably alive, somewhere. He’s like a cockroach that you can never kill.”

“Okay, but if you’re not an Avenger…then what are you?”

“I was an X-Man at one point, but they’re all dead now—because of me.”

“Oh my god, are you—you’re the Wolverine, aren’t you? What in the fuck are you doing here? Is this real life? Someone pinch me right now, because there is no way that Logan fucking Howlett is here in the flesh! Dude, can you show me your claws?!” Ellie asked excitedly and it was Joel’s job to rein her in a bit.

“Alright, kiddo. That’s enough questions, alright? Don’t wanna go and overwhelm him. He can show you his…claws another time. Last thing we want is all these people freaking out and screaming bloody murder, right?” Joel said softly to her in his usual dad tone.

“Yeah, yeah you’re right. Sorry about that, Logan. I’m just like—a huge fan of you and the comics. I actually still can’t wrap my head around the fact that this is real life. Anyway, I’ll get out of your hair. Hope you stick around!” She said sincerely before swiping up her glass of beer that was waiting for her and walked away to a different section of the crowded bar.

“Sorry about my kid. She is a huge fan, and definitely meant no harm by freaking out like that. I hope she wasn’t too invasive.”

“S’alright. There’s no harm done.” Logan reassured him.

Joel tapped his knuckles along the bartop, looking over at his brother first who was now at the other end of the bartop where his wife Maria was sitting. And then he looked at you and finally Logan. “Look, we got off on the wrong foot earlier today and I’m sorry about that. If you don’t got nowhere to go, you should consider staying in town. Sounds like you could be useful, like you said, and my kid would probably kill me if I kicked the Wolverine out for no good reason.”

“I don’t wanna impose, I swear. My plan was to just have a bite to eat and a few drinks and then I’ll be on my way.”

“Logan.” You finally spoke, “you should stay. There’s plenty of room for you here. We’ll have to figure out living arrangements, but in the meantime, you can sleep on our couch?”

The Wolverine’s warm hazel eyes slowly flitted over to you, a soft smile gracing his face before he glanced over at your boyfriend whose jaw was beginning to tick, again.

“Only if your guard dog is alright with that arrangement, sweetheart.”

Joel took a deep breath and released the built up tension that he felt in his shoulders. “The couch is all yours, Logan. We’ll get you out on patrol starting next week. You’ll fit right in.”

And boy, did he fit in.

~~

Logan did more than just fit in, he added a new welcoming dynamic to Jackson and he was an absolute hit with the kids both old and young. (He may or may not have smoked weed with Ellie, Dina and Jesse one night, but no one will ever know the truth)

He looked forward to being on patrol with Joel and Tommy every single day, (sometimes in the evenings). Having a purpose in his life again made him feel complete, and there was that extra perk of getting to kill people—bad guys, every now and then. Logan took numerous bullets for both Miller brothers and he felt this swelling sense of pride in his heart when Joel would go out of his way to tell him that he did a good job out there and sometimes there was even a firm, lingering pat on his shoulder followed by a, thanks for keeping the town safe, Logan. Don’t know what I’d do without ya.

Logan liked to hear those words from Joel’s mouth more than he was willing to admit. Almost as much as he liked coming home to you at the end of the very long and grueling day. Despite his promise to Joel that he wouldn’t try anything on you, he felt that there was nothing wrong with developing a harmless crush on both of his roommates, right?

Well, lucky for the Wolverine, you were beginning to fall down that rabbit hole, too. Especially when Logan would strut around the house shirtless in the mornings while you were getting ready for your day at the barn, ripped abs, resembling glossy freshly baked rolls were on full display paired with that knee-weakening smile that appeared over the rim of his steaming mug of coffee. He’d even accompany you to the barn, spending time with you and the horses till he would saddle up for patrol.

“Joel.” You whispered through the darkness in your shared bedroom.

“This better be goddamn important.” He grumbled tiredly, rolling over so he was facing you and draped his arm across your bare waist, tugging you into his chest so he could pepper your face with affectionate, sleepy kisses. “Thought you said you were too tired for round three, baby.” He drawled against your ear, playfully nipping at the lobe with his teeth.

“Baby, I promise you it’s super important.” You pressed a kiss to the sliver of exposed skin on his neck, throwing your thigh over his hip so if he wanted to, he could slip right into your silky, enticing warmth with ease.

“Mmm. Alright then. Spit it out. What’s on your mind, pretty girl.” He hummed against your skin, rolling his hips languidly into yours, a small grunt slipped past his lips when the head of his cock brushed through your slick folds and dragged upwards across your still sensitive clit.

“Y—you have to promise that you won’t get mad at me, okay?” You gasped softly, biting down on the juncture where his jaw met his neck.

“Baby, if you don’t fuckin’ spit it out right now, I’ll just have to fuck it out of ya.” He said through gritted teeth, reaching between your bodies with his freehand so he could grasp the base of his cock with ease and slowly feed himself into your warm, wet, enveloping walls with zero resistance.

“I want to fuck Logan.” You finally spit it out, waiting for your partner to scold you, but he did the complete opposite and bucked his hips against yours so he was completely bottomed out, stretching you open the same way he did a couple hours ago. “Yeah.” He gruffed out, finally finding your lips in a searing kiss, “know you do.”

Just down the stairs, lounged out on the couch with a glass of whiskey in one hand and tv remote in the other, Logan was trying his best to distract his brain from what he was hearing upstairs (damn his heightened sense of hearing). For the past 20 minutes he had been listening to you and Joel getting it on, and now he was dealing with a small problem—a rather large problem, actually. That problem being that the crotch section of his jeans were becoming unbearably tight, and even after he popped the button and yanked the zipper down, that wasn’t enough relief.

He let out a frustrated growl, throwing his head back against the couch and brought his freehand up to his forehead, rubbing his temples and squeezed his eyes shut. He was fighting an internal battle of whether he was going to act like a nasty dog and jerk himself off, or fight the urge all together. He fumbled with the remote, turning the tv up to full volume thinking that it would drown your sweet little noises out, and Joel’s manly grunts, but it did jack all and he finally gave in and gently palmed himself through his jeans.

That’s when he heard your voice as clear as day.

I want to fuck Logan

That’s all it took for the last shred of his resistance to fall away at the same rate that he had pulled his cock free, squeezing it firmly in his fist before he pulled his hand back, splitting a glob of saliva onto it and wrapped it back around the base of his cock.

~~

You let out a surprised squeak when Joel bucked his hips against yours, burying himself completely in your warm cunt. You scrambled to find something to grab onto, sinking your nails into his strong biceps when he withdrew his hips halfway before thrusting them forward again.

“Known for awhile that you want to fuck him, baby. Neither of you are great at hiding it either. You should see the way he drinks in your appearance the minute you walk into the goddamn room.” He mumbled against your lips, caging you in his arms when he began to pick up a steady rhythm, listening to the soft squelch of your pussy sucking him in further with each powerful thrust. “Thought about tellin’ Logan that he should just make a move, but I wanted to discuss it with you first.”

“Oh, fuck.” You moaned freely, lips falling away from the kiss briefly before finding one another again like two magnets. “So, you’re okay with it then?”

“Fuck yeah, I am. But under one condition.” He stilled his hips, reaching his freehand back down between your connected bodies so he could play with your clit at his leisure.

Your body twitched in his arms from the sudden stimulation and that familiar tingling feeling that was blooming deep in the pit of your stomach as your walls clenched tightly around him, squeezing his cock like a vice. “What’s the condition?”

“I get to watch him fuck you. If y’all wanna get acquainted and fool around beforehand, that’s fine with me, but I get to watch him fuck you.” He rasped and in one swift movement, he maneuvered you onto his lap, cock still buried deep inside of you. The kiss was broken briefly so that he could gaze up at you through hooded eyes. “And if you’re lucky, maybe I’ll even wanna join in. Jus’ am curious to see how well you take another man’s cock, baby. M’sure Logan is gonna be thrilled.” He grabbed a handful of your ass, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh with his thick fingers. “The way I see it, It’s a win-win situation for everyone involved.” He let out a sharp breath when you instinctively rolled your hips against his, foreheads pressed tightly together.

“I fucking love you so much, Joel.” You whispered against his lips, carding your fingers through his hair and tugged on the roots gently so his head was tilted back slightly. You could feel his smirk form in the sloppy kiss, and the way he tugged you closer, chests pressed together.

“I love you too, baby. Jus’ wanna see my girl happy s’all. And if fucking the goddamn Wolverine makes you happy, then so be it.”

Logan could hear every squeak from the old mattress, the wooden frame smacking the wall in sync with the heavy weight of Joel’s thrusts, and he could even hear the wet, squelch of your pussy, and skin slapping on skin. The mental images he created in his mind spurred his wrist to move faster, jerking his cock like a horny teenager that had stumbled across the adult magazine section in a grocery store for the first time.

He gnawed on his lower lip till it began to bleed and then healed over immediately after. His lashes fluttered, muscles growing taught and veins bulging the closer he got to cumming in his fist. He bit down on the back of his hand, hard enough to draw blood, and the stinging pain mixed with pleasure sent him right over the edge with stars dotting his vision before he slumped back against the couch, cock spent and growing soft.

“The fucker probably can’t wait to bury his face between your thighs, inhale your scent and eat your sweet pussy like a man starved. Bet it’s been so fuckin’ long for him, that he’ll cream his pants the second he even catches a sliver of your skin.”

“Well, bub, you got one thing right, that’s for damn sure. I can’t wait to bury my face between your girl's thighs and eat her sweet pussy like a man starved.” Logan chuckled to himself, letting out a content sigh as he glanced down at the mess of his release coating his hand, and his happy trail.

He reached over the coffee table for his almost abandoned glass of whiskey and quickly downed the rest before snatching up one of the cigars Joel had so kindly gotten for him and a box of matches. And just as he lit the end of the cigar, and kicked his feet up on the coffee table so he could get more comfortable, his ears were blessed with the high pitched sounds of you orgasming. “Fuck.” He nearly groaned, cock twitching pathetically at the pornographic sound you emitted.

~~

The sun had not even begun to rise in the sky, but there was a chill in the air, a telling sign that fall was on the horizon and the changing of seasons. The early morning light was softer now compared to the summer months, and bathed Joel’s exposed back in a warm, golden glow.

You curled your body around his, hugging him like a koala when he went to untangle his legs from your own. He let out a throaty chuckle, raspy and sticky with prior slumber when you tighten your grip around him.

He blindly reached behind, finding your bare thigh and gave it an affectionate squeeze and gentle pat with his calloused palm. “C’mon, baby.” He rasped, “gotta pee, and then I’m gonna go find Tommy’n get an early start.”

“Stay in bed.”

“S’temptin.’” he mused, rolling over with a soft grunt so he was facing you finally.

“It’s fucking freezing in here, Joel. You’re my personal heater, and I forbid you from leaving.”

“Mmm.” He nuzzled his face against your pulse point, inhaling your familiar scent with a content sigh. “Could always ask Logan to take my place…” He trails off.

“Are you trying to make me soaking wet right now?” You teased.

You could feel him grinning against your skin as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss at the juncture where your jaw met your neck. “Why? Is it working?”

“Why don’t you find out?” You said coyly, finding his hand to slowly drag it between your bare thighs, but he was acting stubborn; the gall he had.

“No can do, my little minx.” He retracted his touch from you all together, finding an opening to slip out of your warm embrace and swung his legs over the side of the bed before pushing himself up. You could hear a faint crack in his lower back the moment he stretched his arms above his head, and he cheekily pivoted his hips to the side just so you could enjoy the little show and dreamily watch the way that his heavy cock swung between his thighs.

Letting out a groan that was nothing short of frustrating, you rolled over onto your stomach, kicking your legs up behind your head languidly with your chin propped in your palms. “Can’t believe you’re gonna choose your brother over me, and my drooling pussy, Joel.” You said with a noticeable pout.

He bent down, grabbing ahold of his discarded shirt from the night before and pulled it over his head and shoulders, obstructing your view of his broad chest and soft, kissable tummy. “You and your droolin’ pussy will live, sweetheart.” He took a few steps towards the bed, leaning down to brush his lips against yours in a sweet peck.

“Actually, I don’t think we will. I think we’re both gonna die a truly excruciating death if you don’t be a man and take care of the mess I’m making in your sheets.” You mumbled against his lips, attempting to deepen the kiss further, but he swiftly pulled back, brows crinkled in amusement as he observed your pout of frustration, and that yearning look glossed over in your eyes before his gaze traveled down the curve of your spine and between your thighs.

He chuckled in amusement when you arch your back and spread your legs further just so he could see how swollen and puffy your pussy looked from this angle, dripping with need, desperate to be played with, to be filled.

“Put your pussy away, you preening slut.” He said teasingly, not meaning it in an overtly degrading way, and simply just a jest; all in good fun.

“Fiiine.” You sighed in defeat, dropping your weight from your elbows and plopped down, face first into his pillow dramatically.

“Poor baby.” He cooed and leaned down, pressing his lips to the side of your head. “I’ll let Logan know that you and your needy little pussy will be waiting for him.”

“Go piss already, old man.” You grumbled into the pillow.

“Goin’ straight for the jugular, huh?” He chuckled and grabbed the end of the sheet, draping it over you gently before he pivoted on his heel and padded over to the attached bathroom.

~~

Logan was still passed out on the couch when Joel crept downstairs, fully dressed now. There was the faint stench of tobacco, musk, and oh—

Joel didn’t mean to look, he truly didn’t—but it was staring him right in the fucking face, and immediately sent a hot, red flush rising up his cheeks and sweat began to pool at the nape of his neck.

Logan stirred in his heavy slumber, one arm propping up behind his head as a makeshift pillow, bicep muscles bulging even in a relaxed state. His freehand slowly drifted southwards, brushing against the protruding vein on his lower abdomen and trailed right down to the soft, dark, enticing hair on his happy trail.

“I’m fuckin’ losin’ it, I swear.” Joel muttered to himself, scraping his own hand down his face before he quickly made a departure for the kitchen.

He was careful to be quiet, as he didn’t want to disturb the other man while he prepared himself a steaming mug of coffee, one of his many guilty pleasures that he never believed he would get to indulge in again.

cue me breaking the 4th wall. I know what you’re all thinking. Gianna, are Joel and Logan going to fuck yet? No, my lovely readers, I’m going to continue to edge you just a little more 🙂‍↕️ (and by a little more I mean you have to wait till chapter three 😔 but don’t worry! The sexual tension is there, and it’s simmering, but first, some angst!

P.S. if you read this in Deadpool’s voice, I fucking love u and we’re gonna make out now.

Okay, that’s all, folks! Back to the gay pining!

The Wolverine began to mumble in his sleep, not just fragmented words, but names—names of those he once knew, those he lost. The nightmares were never-ending, a constant reminder of the past that could never be undone. Even after teaming up with Wade, and saving the world, Logan still would think about the X-Men. That’s the funny thing about trauma, it never actually goes away, you just learn how to mask it as time goes on.

“Howlett?” Joel hesitantly said from the threshold of the kitchen, footsteps padding towards the living room.

Logan shot up from the couch, with an animalistic yell emitting from his throat. His eyes were wide, sweat pooled down his bare chest and his claws unsheathed with that familiar metal swoosh. He blinked a rapidly, registering where he was before he fell back against the couch and retracted his claws as he caught his breath.

“Logan?…Y’alright in there?”

Fuck.

“Jus’ fine, Miller. Sorry for startling you.” Logan muttered, voice raspy with sleep. It dawned upon him then that last night, after he—well, got himself off, he passed out before he had a chance to tuck his cock back into his jeans.

Guy must really fuckin’ think I’m an animal.

“Are ya decent?”

So, he did see? Fuck.

“Jus’ a minute.”

Joel waited till he heard the sound of a zipper being pulled up, and the metallic clink of a belt before he made his presence known, leaning against the opening of the kitchen with two mugs of coffee now.

He observes the other man silently, watching as he slowly sits up, rubbing the heels of his palms against his eyes, taking a deep lungful of air before exhaling.

“You’re shaking.” Joel states the obvious and hesitantly approaches the couch, sitting down against the side of it.

Thanks, captain obvious.” Logan snorts under his breath, fighting the urge to grin at the other man’s obvious hesitation.

“Those things have a mind of their own, huh?” Joel refers to the metal claws that were once protruding out of Logan’s knuckles.

“Somethin’ like that.” He eyes the second mug of coffee before finally meeting Joel’s gaze. “That for me?”

“What? Oh—the coffee.” Joel feels a flush creeping on as he holds the mug of coffee towards Logan almost as a peace offering. “Yeah.”

Logan reaches for the mug, meeting Joel’s hand halfway before taking it from him. Their fingers brush, and he tries to not notice how fast Joel moves to retract his hand.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Joel’s response is unintentionally gruff sounding. He sighs, taking a sip from his own mug.

“Do you have them often?”

The Wolverine raises a brow, confusion etched over his face. “What?”

“The nightmares.” Joel clarifies, “do you have them often?”

“Every night.” Logan said just above a whisper. His eyes cast downwards towards the mug in his hands, an unreadable expression crosses his face.

“Well, we got somethin’ in common after all.”

Logan looks up in surprise, studying the other man for a moment. He wants to ask questions, but he doesn’t want to invade Joel’s privacy or pry where he’s not wanted, let alone welcomed.

“Sun ain’t even up yet, bub. Where ya off to?”

“Patrol with Tommy, once I find him. Wanna get an early start.”

Logan doesn’t even think twice before he starts to swing his legs over the side of the couch to stand up, but he’s stopped in his tracks when he feels a warm, calloused palm press down against his bare chest. The movement shocks both men, and the Wolverine falls into submission, sinking back down against the couch pillows that were already crushed under his weight.

“You’ve done well out there, Howlett. Take the day off, and keep my girl company instead.”

Don’t move your hand, bub. Keep it right there. Is what Logan really wants to say.

“Y’sure, Miller?” He tests the waters for any possible ulterior motive that Joel may have.

Much to Logan’s disappointment, Joel slowly removes his hand from his chest, bringing it down to his side, fingers flexing and then curling into a fist as if he’s in disbelief over what he just did.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Between you and me, there ain’t no hidin’ your attraction to her. And well—seems like she’s takin’ a liking to you as well.” Joel said with a light chuckle, bringing his mug back up to his lips and took a quick sip. “And seeing as you won’t grow a pair and jus’ make a move, I figured I’d give you my permission.”

“I ain’t worthy of her, Joel. That’s your girl. If I’ve overstepped—”

“Yeah?” Joel leaned in, close enough that from this angle, Logan could make out every little detail on the other man’s face. “Guess you don’t wanna hear how she’s upstairs right now, leakin’ all over my goddamn sheets like a bitch in heat, huh?”

“And you want me…to—take care of it?” He chooses his words carefully.

“I know you ain’t all that innocent, Logan. You don’t gotta hide that shit from me. You want her? She’s all yours. But, a word of advice, if I may. Let her come to you. She enjoys the chase more than she likes to be chased. Play coy with her. That one lives for a good fuckin’ game of cat and mouse.”

“And this isn’t a trap? Yeah, of course I want your girl. I’d be a goddamn fool if I didn’t.”

“It ain’t a trap. I’m appeasing to both sides, Logan. My only condition is that you can’t fuck her—not yet, at least. I want to be there to watch. Everything else, however, is on the table, so do with that as you will.” He finished off his coffee and pushed himself off the side of the couch. Before the Wolverine could even respond, he had one last thing to say before he would take his leave.

“Oh, and Logan?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll know if you fucked her without me.”

My panties just disappeared…how did that happen? AND my rose toy just flew into my hand like Thors hammer! Weird…

~~

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[punkshort]

i'll be home for christmas | part two

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.

Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, very soft!joel, flirting, kissing, hallmark movie tropes up the wazoo, mentions of infidelity, mentions of divorce, reader's sister is pregnant, hurt/comfort, explicit smut (18+MDNI), (somewhat) unproteced piv sex, angst (but you know there will be a happy ending, this is Hallmark, after all)

WC: 12K

A/N: I am so overwhelmed at the response I received for part one. No contest, it's my most successful story to date, and I can't thank you all enough ❤️ I really hope you enjoy this part just as much. Please read the warnings, this has some (very sweet and soft) smut at the end, so if it isn't your thing, feel free to skip it.

Series Masterlist

Joel sat in his truck, the engine long cooled down by now, as he stared blankly at his garage door, waiting for the stupid grin to leave his face before he went inside to face his brother. But he had been sitting there for almost twenty minutes, and he was still smiling behind the back of his hand.

That date with you was perfect. Well, he could have done without getting knocked on his ass by some kid, but it worked out for him in the end, so he didn't mind.

Goddamn, did you make him feel good. There was no way he would be able to sleep that night, he was sure of it. Not after the way you looked at him, touched him, kissed him. A big part of him wondered for a long time if he would spend the rest of his life alone, believing that lightning doesn't strike twice, that he would never find anyone who would look at him and want him the way you did.

He ignored the nagging voice in the back of his head that reminded him you didn't live there, that you would be going back to New York in a couple short weeks. He couldn't let that bring him down just yet, that was a problem for another day. Right now, his only problem was resisting the urge to drive back to your house and scoop you up in his arms so he could make you feel as good as he felt.

It was close to midnight, so he caved and went inside, hoping his brother would be too groggy to interrogate him. When he walked in and saw Tommy and Sarah lounging on the couch, wide awake and watching some action flick, his face fell.

"Hey, it is way past your bedtime, the hell are you doin'?" Joel scolded, sliding off his boots.

"Dad, c'mon, it's the weekend," Sarah whined.

"Don't care, you know the rules," he told her, trying to sound firm, but he had such a soft spot for her that he never succeeded in sounding threatening.

"But it's a special occasion, I wanted to hear how your date went," she grinned, sitting up and wiggling her eyebrows. Joel's jaw dropped and shot a glare at his brother while stretching his arms out at his side in disbelief.

"Oh, come on, she practically dragged it outta me," Tommy smirked.

"Unbelievable," Joel muttered, collapsing on the end of the couch and rubbing his eyes.

"So?" Sarah pushed, tucking her legs underneath her excitedly.

"I ain't talkin' about this with you," he said, biting his cheek as he stared at the TV.

"Why not?" she pouted, but Joel just shook his head.

"Go brush your teeth," he said.

"Fine," she replied, rolling her eyes as she made her way to the stairs. "But I'll get it out of you one day."

She stomped upstairs and it wasn't until Joel heard the water running that he turned to his brother.

"What the hell, Tommy? You know I didn't want her knowin' about that," he said, exasperated.

"Oh, relax," Tommy said, stretching his arms above his head. "She's sixteen, Joel. She's smart. She figured it out herself, I just confirmed it after gettin' the third degree."

Joel sighed and tipped his head back onto the sofa, closing his eyes.

"Christ," he muttered.

"What's the big deal?"

Joel sat up and opened his eyes.

"Big deal is, she lives in New York. There's no future there, we were just hangin' out, and I don't need Sarah gettin' her hopes up," Joel explained, trying to downplay his feelings, but his chest squeezed at the thought of you leaving one day.

"Ever hear of long distance?" Tommy asked, raising an eyebrow.

"That never works," Joel replied, shaking his head.

"Well, maybe you should make it work," he said, sitting up and muting the TV. "You know, Sarah just wants you to be happy, Joel. We both do," Tommy said somberly. "Told me tonight she's worried about you bein' all alone when she goes off to college."

"I'll be alright," he said gruffly, although the same thought was plaguing his mind recently, as well.

Tommy stared at his brother a moment as Joel watched the TV, pretending to follow the story even though there was no audio. He decided to drop it for now and changed the subject.

"So, you gonna tell me how it went or what?"

Joel bit his lower lip, trying to keep himself from smiling, but he failed. Tommy noticed right away and grinned, leaning forward to tap his knee.

"I know that look," he said, still grinning.

"Yeah, alright," Joel finally said with a smile. "It was great. Really fuckin' great."

"Hell yeah!" Tommy yelled, and Joel immediately shushed him, pointing upstairs.

"She's funny and she's sweet, we had a real nice time," Joel said, his grin permanently etched on his face now.

"I figured it went well since you got home so late," Tommy replied with a wink.

"I ain't gonna sleep with her on the first date," he whispered, just in case Sarah was listening. He settled back into the couch as Tommy turned the TV volume back on, letting the movie play for a minute before adding, "She's a good kisser, though."

"Oh, I can't wait to meet this girl," Tommy chuckled with a shake of his head. "Haven't seen you smile this much in years."

"Yeah, well," Joel replied noncommittally, still smiling like an idiot and staring at the TV. He decided to stay downstairs that night, finishing the movie and then starting another one on the couch long after Tommy left, unable to quiet down his mind long enough to fall asleep until nearly three in the morning.

You woke up the next day, stretching your arms above your head with a big yawn, not ready to get out of bed yet but the voices downstairs told you it must have been late. With a groan, you reached over and snatched your phone off the charger. When you saw you had a text waiting for you, your heart skipped a beat until you read Sydney's name and not Joel's. Your eyes flicked to the top of the screen, noting it was close to ten in the morning, before sliding open the text.

Sydney: sorry forgot to reply yesterday. I saw will at black & blue, he was hammered and falling all over the place

You scowled, not interested in whatever your ex was up to, so you replied with just the thumbs up emoji and set your phone back down.

Staring at the ceiling, you dreamily thought about your date with Joel. God, he really took you by surprise. You were proud of yourself for taking that first big step forward and putting yourself out there again, but you had no idea it would feel like this. You weren't even sure you ever felt like this with Will. Even when things were good, Will never treated you the way Joel did last night. He was so earnest and respectful, opening doors for you and actually listening to you talk about work. And he didn't even try to feel you up, either, although you probably wouldn't have minded. Maybe it was those Southern manners you were missing this whole time.

With a groan, you dropped your phone back on the nightstand and swung your legs over the edge of your bed, wrapping yourself in your robe, still not expecting it to be so cold in Texas. Even though it was December, it was unusual.

You made your way into the kitchen and made a beeline for the coffee, tossing a wave in the direction of your parents sitting with your sister and brother in law in the living room.

"She lives!" Cassie exclaimed with a smug look on her face. You held your mug up to your lips and blew on the liquid, frowning when the whole family was looking at you with matching, goofy smirks.

"Why are you all looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" your mom asked innocently. You squinted at her as you sat down, not buying it.

"How was your date?" your sister asked. You took a sip of coffee before replying.

"Good," you said simply, nodding your head. Your mom and dad exchanged a look and you frowned again, getting annoyed.

"What?" you asked loudly.

"Nothing!" your dad said, looking back down at his newspaper. Who even still gets the newspaper delivered anymore, anyway?

"Josh, what's going on?" you asked your sister's husband, knowing he was the weakest link. He glanced nervously between you and Cassie.

"They saw you and Joel on the Ring camera," he blurted out, and your family all groaned in unison. Your face flushed beet red, gawking at them all in disbelief.

"Are you kidding me?" you screeched.

"We didn't mean to, Bucky. Dad was reviewing the footage because he couldn't find the newspaper this morning and, well..." your mom trailed off, trying to hide her smile.

"Oh my god," you whined, tucking your legs to your chest and hiding your face.

"Looked like the date was a little more than good," Cassie teased, and you smacked her on the leg.

"I can't believe this," you mumbled to yourself, hiding your face behind your coffee mug and praying someone would change the subject. "How much did you see?"

"Just from when he pulled in the driveway til when you went inside," your mom said with a shrug.

"That's, like, everything, Mom! Oh my god!" Your face was hot with embarrassment now.

"He looks like a good kisser, is he a good kisser?" Cassie asked.

"Shut up!" you whined, covering your face with your free hand.

"There's nothin' to be embarrassed about, he was a gentleman. Held the door open for you and everythin'," your dad murmured, and you groaned.

"Can we talk about literally anything else, please?" you begged.

"Of course!" your mom said, her eyes flicking around the room, waiting for someone to say something, but nobody spoke.

"I'm sorry, Buck, but you gotta see the the smile on his face after you went inside, it was so cute," Cassie said, pulling out her phone.

"I'm going upstairs!" you announced, jumping up from the couch.

"Wait! Are you still coming by later to help paint the nursery?"

"I don't know, are there any cameras there?" you shouted over your shoulder as your climbed the stairs with your coffee to hide in the sanctity of the guest bedroom.

"Well, no. Only because I haven't set the baby monitor up yet," Cassie called back and giggled when she heard you slam your door.

Grumbling to yourself, you flopped back into bed and picked up your phone, looking for a distraction from your embarrassment. You quickly found one when you saw you had a missed text from Joel.

Joel Miller: Question for you - when is the earliest you should text someone without looking too pathetic after you've had the best date of your life?

You grinned as you typed out a response.

You: answer - whatever time you sent this text :)

Joel Miller: Oh, good. Thought I scared you off, sent that about ten minutes ago.

You: sorry, I was downstairs talking to my family, forgot to bring my phone. And I don't think you could ever scare me off

You almost told him about the doorbell camera fiasco, but decided against it. Picking up your mug, you tried not to stare too hard at your phone as you waited for a reply.

Joel Miller: What are you doing later?

Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing him again so soon, then quickly stopped yourself, remembering your promise to your sister.

You: I told my sister I would help paint the nursery...

Joel Miller: That's a shame. I was hoping you could teach me something again.

You: oh? lol

Joel Miller: I just realized how that sounded - I meant wrapping Christmas presents for Sarah. I'm awful at it and I have another hunch gift wrapping is a secret talent of yours.

You giggled and rolled over in bed, your embarrassment long forgotten now.

You: you might be right... how about tomorrow?

Joel took the porch steps two at a time, eager to see you again and it hadn't even been a full two days. His finger barely pressed the doorbell when he heard your voice call out I got it! and the door swung open. You smiled up at him, your eyes lighting up before dropping your gaze to his mouth.

"Hi," you said breathlessly.

"Hey," he replied, swallowing roughly.

"Have a nice time, Bucky!" your mom's voice rang out somewhere behind you as you shut the door quickly. Joel grinned, his gaze drifting from your eyes to your mouth before leaning in. You put your hand on his chest and tilted your head back before grabbing his hand and leading him to his truck. Confused, he followed behind and tried not to stare too long at the way your jeans perfectly hugged your ass.

You led him to the passenger side of the truck, but when he reached out to open the door, you snaked your hand up to wrap around the back of his neck, pulling his face down for a searing kiss only when you were sure you were hidden from view.

"Would I sound crazy if I said I missed you?" you whispered.

"No," Joel replied, shaking his head and trying to calm his pounding heart. "Couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you."

"Me, too," you admitted softly, gazing up at him with your beautiful eyes all wide and burning with desire.

He cradled your face in his calloused hand, the other flattened firmly against the truck door behind you as he stared into your eyes, fighting the urge to pick you up and wrap your legs around his waist so he could pin you against his truck and let you feel just how badly he missed you.

Then, you heard your dad's SUV unlock and your eyes widened in panic.

"Shit," you muttered. "We should go. I think they're heading out."

"Alright, maybe I should say 'hi' real quick," he said, pushing himself off the truck and letting his hand drop from your face.

"No! That's okay, we'll be stuck here forever if you do," you said hurriedly. He gave you a curious smile but agreed before opening the door for you and hopping into the driver's seat.

He waited until he backed out of the driveway and was heading down your street before shooting you a sideways glance.

"Everythin' okay?"

You sighed and rubbed your palms over your face before clearing your throat.

"So, remember the other night on the porch, after you dropped me off?"

He smirked and nodded.

"Yeah, I think I remember," he teased.

"Well," you began. "My family saw us on the doorbell camera the next morning," you cringed.

He laughed, throwing his head back just a bit so he could still keep an eye on the road, and shook his head.

"Oh, I hate those fuckin' things," he said, but he was still laughing.

You grinned, your nerves and unease dissipating quickly.

"You're not embarrassed?"

"Nah," he said with a shrug, then turned his head briefly to look at you. "I'm sure we put on a good show."

You giggled, your cheeks tinting pink, and turned your head to look out the window.

"Alright," he said after a minute. "I've waited long enough and I gotta ask."

You swiveled back towards him, waiting for him to continue.

"What's the story with the nickname?"

You groaned and squeezed your eyes shut.

"It's so unbelievably stupid," you said, but he shook his head.

"Well, now you gotta tell me."

"Fine," you said, rolling your eyes, but your playful smile gave you away.

"It's Buck, or Bucky. Short for Bucket," you began.

"Bucket?" he repeated, bewildered.

"I warned you it was stupid!" you protested, and he chuckled. "Anyway, when I was little, my sister and her friends had a sleepover one time, and I overheard them swearing."

"Okay," Joel said slowly, nodding along while he kept his eyes pinned to the road.

"I always looked up to my sister, I was like her shadow when I was younger. So, when I heard them swearing, I wanted to be like them, too, you know?"

"Yeah, I follow," he replied, still not sure how the story related to your nickname.

"Well, thing is, I misheard them. They were saying 'fuck it', but I heard 'bucket'," you explained. "So I went to school and, thinking I sounded cool, I would say 'bucket' to all my friends. We were little, they had no idea what I was talking about, so I explained to them it's a swear word. Before I knew it, I had the whole class saying 'bucket' any time someone dropped something, or got a bad grade on a test, or whatever."

Joel howled with laughter, gripping the steering wheel for dear life as he tried to make it safely into his driveway.

"The principal called my parents and told them what was happening," you continued, joining in and giggling. "They got me home, and-" you doubled over, clutching your stomach as Joel put the truck in park and slumped over the steering wheel, his body shaking as he laughed.

"And I had to tell them the whole story, about why I kept saying it and-" you wiped the tears from your eyes as you took a deep breath. "And - oh my god - my sister got grounded for two weeks-" Another fit of laughter washed over Joel, tears streaming down his face.

"Wait, wait," he gasped, unbuckling his seatbelt so he could turn to face you. "You got in trouble in school, and your sister ended up gettin' punished?"

"Yes!" you squeaked, still giggling.

"Oh, shit," he breathed, panting as he leaned the back of his head against the seat rest. "Can't believe you thought that was stupid. That's gotta be the funniest thing I heard in a long while."

"Well, I'm glad I could brighten your day," you said, still grinning.

He rolled his head back towards you, his soft gaze drifting up and down your frame quickly before stopping on your eyes.

"You really do, y'know," he said quietly, and you furrowed your brow, tilting your head in confusion.

"Brighten my day," he clarified.

You bit your lower lip and smiled, looking away as the flush began to return to your cheeks.

"Come on, charmer. Why don't we go teach you how to wrap presents?"

You never really gave much thought as to what Joel's house would look like, but once you saw it, it immediately felt like him. It was a smaller, two bedroom house. When you first walked in, you entered a living room with a leather couch and an oversized recliner. A big screen TV was front and center across from the couch, with a few framed pictures of Joel and Sarah mounted on the wall next to it.

"You want somethin' to drink?" Joel asked, making sure to slide the coat from your shoulders before shrugging off his own.

"Maybe just water," you said, following him into the kitchen. You gasped when you saw his cupboards and immediately rushed over to them while he pulled two bottles of water from the stainless steel fridge.

"Oh my god, Joel," you whispered, running your fingers gently over the designs. Each one looked different but somehow they all were cohesive. Some had small flowers or butterflies carved into the corners, while others had simple, yet intricate designs grooved into the wood.

"Had to practice somehow," he said, feeling his cheeks flush as he walked over to hand you your water.

"God, it's so beautiful," you said breathlessly, unable to look away from the dark, stained wood. Your fingers danced over some stars etched into one of doors, your eyes wide with awe, but he was focused entirely on you. He couldn't get enough of watching the delicate features on your face light up whenever you found something new that pleased you.

"How long does this take for you to do?" you asked, finally dragging your eyes away to look up at him. Your throat tightened when you noticed the heat behind his stare, your pulse fluttering in your neck.

"Depends," he murmured. "Some are faster than others, but I prefer to go slow and take my time. Anythin' worthwhile takes time. Gotta show it respect, gotta care for it."

His low and sultry tone made your face flush, forgetting for a moment you were talking about woodworking.

"Y-yeah," you stammered, clearing your throat. Suddenly, you were feeling short of breath. "That makes sense."

He gazed down at you for another moment, his eyes slowly raking over your face as if committing it to memory before speaking again. Your entire body felt hot, and you cursed yourself for wearing such a thick sweater.

"Ready to go upstairs?" he murmured, still staring at you in a way that made your spine tingle.

"Huh?" you whispered, completely entranced by his deep, brown eyes.

"The presents?" he reminded you with a small smirk.

"Oh, right," you said, finally blinking and looking away. You shakily opened your water bottle after he turned around to lead you to the stairs, your mouth suddenly extremely dry.

As you walked up the steps, you tried to get a look at the pictures that lined the wall, but it was difficult to do without tripping. You thought you had finally gotten your head on straight after that moment in the kitchen, but when you realized he was leading you to his bedroom, you felt the tremble return to your hands.

"Sorry, had to hide everythin' in my closet, she's too nosy," he said over his shoulder.

"No problem," you squeaked, trying not to stare at his neatly made bed. Your eyes briefly drifted over the end tables filled with personal effects. You thought you saw a chapstick, a cord for a phone charger, and a worn paperback book, but you didn't want him to catch you, so you looked away quickly.

He opened his closet and you were surprised to find his clothes packed away so neatly. For a bachelor, he kept a really clean house. He pulled out the bags of gifts from the shelf above his clothes, then the wrapping paper, which was leaning against the corner.

"D'you think we got enough room?" he asked, glancing around at the floor.

"Yeah, of course," you said, sitting down crossed legged on the carpet. You reached out for the wrapping paper and rolled it out in front of you as he sat down at your side, taking out her gifts one by one. You felt yourself involuntarily clench as you watched his large hands deftly lay out each item on the floor, his muscles twitching slightly under the tanned skin of his exposed forearms.

"I know what you're thinkin'," he said, and your eyes widened in surprise. "I spoil her, I know, but she's such a good kid, I can't help myself."

That was definitely not what you were thinking, but you chose to keep that to yourself.

"I think it's sweet," you told him. "You seem like a really good dad."

Now it was his turn to blush. He tried to turn his head away so you wouldn't see, murmuring his thanks as you each picked an item to start. After a quick tutorial, which included way too much tape and ripped paper, Joel finally seemed to get the technique down. It only took until about halfway through the pile for you to muster up the courage to bring up a topic you couldn't help but be curious about.

"So," you began, hoping you came off nonchalant. "Is Sarah with her mom this Christmas, or..."

Joel's fingers fumbled for a moment with the wrapping paper, but he quickly recovered.

"Uh, no," he replied, keeping his eyes cast down on the shoe box in front of him. "She's not in Sarah's life anymore."

"Oh," you said, unable to keep the surprise from your voice, but you didn't push him any further. Your mind was scrambling, trying to think of something else to talk about, when he sighed and leaned back, abandoning the gift.

"I'm sorry, this is all so new to me, I probably should've told you about her sooner," he said, feeling guilty, but you quickly shook your head.

"No, you don't have to-"

"I want to," he said, cutting you off. You clamped your mouth shut and turned your body so you could give him your full attention, leaving the hair dryer you were wrapping on the floor next to you.

He drew a shaky breath in and looked up at the ceiling before speaking.

"There's not much to say, really. I'm still not always sure what happened," he began. You nodded, staying quiet and letting him take his time. "We were together since high school, ended up stayin' together after graduation. Sarah was a surprise, we were both still so young but we made it work. It was hard, but once me and Tommy got the business goin', it made things a bit easier."

Your fingers tangled together in your lap as you listened, refusing to say anything until he was done. His gaze drifted towards a fixed point on the wall as he continued.

"From what I gathered, she felt like havin' Sarah so young robbed her from doin' certain things in life," he said heavily. "Said she couldn't do it anymore. Didn't want her life to pass her by and be full of regret."

You bit your lip. The pain was clear as day on his face and it was making your chest ache.

"Well, anyway. I thought maybe she would go off for a couple months, do whatever it was she thought she was missin' out on. Parties, college... other men," he added the last part quietly, and you dropped your gaze to the floor. "Get it out of her system, y'know? But she just... never came back. Eventually, the calls came less and less, and I put two and two together. Didn't even get a courtesy call before I got served with the papers."

He rubbed his eyes, trying so hard not to look like a blubbering idiot in front of you. You reached your hand out and placed it gently on his knee, giving him a reassuring squeeze. He dropped his hand from his face to cover yours, staring at your coupled hands for a moment.

"Joel-"

"It was just so fuckin' hard on Sarah, y'know?" he said, his voice cracking. "I had no idea what to tell her. She cried almost every night, askin' me why her mom didn't love her anymore."

"Oh, Joel," you whispered, unable to hold back any longer. You closed the small gap between you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him into your chest, your fingers gently raking through his hair. "I'm so sorry," you told him, burying your nose in the hair on top of his head, breathing in the citrus scent from his shampoo.

He didn't say a word. He just tugged you closer and closed his eyes, leaning into your comforting touch with a deep sigh.

"I'm sorry," he finally managed to croak out. "I'm throwin' way too much at you, I know you didn't sign up for this."

"Shh," you whispered into his hair, then tilted his face up to look at you, his dark brown eyes glassy with unshed tears. "It's okay," you murmured, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. A solitary tear slipped down his cheek when he pulled back to look deep into your eyes.

"It's okay," you repeated, wiping away the tear with the pad of your thumb before placing another gentle kiss against his lips.

He hummed contently against your mouth, sliding his hand up to the back of your neck and pressing his lips more firmly against your own, scared to let you go because if he did, he was sure he would fall apart.

Your grip on his hair tightened as he leaned forward, one strong arm wrapped around your midsection and the other pressed against your back. You mumbled something against his mouth when he tried to lay you down and knocked over a small pile of DVDs.

"Fuck," he whispered and, oh god, the way he said it made your legs turn to jelly and your cheeks flare with heat.

Frustrated, he tightened his grip around you and lifted you up, refusing to break the kiss. A tiny, high pitched squeak slipped past your lips as you wrapped your legs around his hips, letting him carry you to his bed.

He laid you down carefully on top of his plush, navy striped comforter. You sighed into his mouth, your legs loosening around his waist and falling open while you dragged your hands out of his hair and down to his shoulders, wrapping your fingers around his biceps to keep him close. He hovered above you, balancing all his weight on his elbows while his fingers played with the ends of your impossibly soft hair.

He slipped his tongue easily past your lips with a low groan, the noise going straight to your core, making the ache between your legs almost painful while your tongue danced with his, the two already so familiar with each other.

You tipped your head back with a gasp, desperate for air, but he kept going, unable to stop himself. His lips brushed against your jaw before his teeth and prickly beard scraped against the sensitive skin behind your earlobe. You let out a needy whimper and arched your back at the sensation, pushing your breasts into his broad chest as goosebumps spread over your whole body.

"Oh god, Joel," you whined softly, squeezing your eyes shut.

"Yeah, baby?" he replied, his voice thick and muffled against your neck. Baby. Jesus, this man was unraveling you so fast, it was making your head spin.

"I-I know we said this was casual, but-" the words got trapped in your throat as you cut yourself off, unable to finish your thought.

"I know," he said, his voice strained. "Fuck, I know."

He lifted his head away from your neck as he stared down at you, patting your hair back and away from your face as he panted slightly for breath.

You looked up at him, eyes watering as you tried not to think about your time coming to an end in a couple short weeks. You could tell he was thinking the same but didn't want to say it, the pain behind his eyes was obvious.

He blinked a couple times, the clouds clearing as he forced himself to focus on the present. He had you here in his arms, in his bed, underneath him right now. And he was going to be damned if he didn't soak up every single second.

He leaned back down and locked his lips on yours again, this time moving slower, more gentle and tender. He wanted to treat you right. You deserved it, and he wasn't going to give you anything less than what you deserved while he still had you.

You loosened your grip on his arms and allowed your hands to drift to the buttons of his flannel, slowly and shakily undoing them. His heart began to slam against his chest when he realized what you were doing, his mind going fuzzy with desire.

He pulled his head back when you were about halfway down his shirt, looking down hazily at your fingers working open the buttons as he desperately tried to think straight.

"Dad?" Sarah called from downstairs, the front door slamming shut. "Are you here?"

"Shit," Joel mumbled, scrambling off of you as he clumsily tried to redo his buttons. You jumped off the bed, leaning over so you could see into the mirror above his dresser, raking your hands through your tangled hair and quickly fixing your sweater.

"Yeah!" Joel shouted back, glancing over at you to make sure you were decent. "Sorry," he whispered, but you just grinned. Then his eyes fell to the half wrapped presents on the floor.

"Wait! Don't come up-" he called out as he heard her skipping up the steps. Joel grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the room, closing the door behind you both just in time.

"What? Why?" Sarah asked, then froze when she saw you. She looked up at Joel, then back to you, and a slow smile spread across her face.

"Ohhh..." she said with her hands on her hips. "Now I see."

"N-no, it's not what it looks like, she was just helpin' me wrap some gifts," Joel stammered, jutting his thumb over his shoulder. You shifted your weight nervously as you looked back and forth between them.

"Then why are you missing a button on your shirt?"

You both glanced down at his flannel, and she was right. He missed fixing a button in all the chaos. Your face flushed beet red as you stared at the ground while Joel hurriedly fixed the button, cursing under his breath. When you dared to look back up at his daughter, she was smirking playfully at you. Joel cleared his throat.

"Sarah, this is-"

"Yeah, I know, I remember from the party. The pretty dress, right?" she asked, and you nodded.

"Yeah, that's right. Nice to see you again," you said awkwardly.

She nodded, still smirking and looking at you and Joel. You could tell she loved catching her dad in this uncomfortable situation.

"Oh, crap. I forgot. Uncle Tommy is waiting for you in the driveway, said he needed your help unloading some work stuff out from the back of his truck," Sarah said.

"Ah, dammit, alright. You okay for a couple minutes?" he asked you, eyebrows raised.

"Of course," you said. He nodded, walking down the hall past Sarah, muttering "be good" to her as he walked by.

You listened as Joel made his way down the stairs and out the front door, leaving you and Sarah in silence, still staring at one another.

"I'm sorry, we really were wrapping gifts," you assured her.

"It's okay," she said with a shrug. "Last year he used duct tape on my presents, I know he needs the help."

You giggled, causing her to laugh, as well.

"Do you play an instrument?" you asked, just noticing the case on the floor next to her feet.

"Yeah, violin. I had practice after school today," she said, picking it up.

"Oh, cool. I played piano growing up, but I was never any good," you said, sliding your hands in the back pockets of your jeans.

"I have my school's Christmas recital on Friday," she said. "My first solo."

"Oh my god!" you said, clapping your hands together, genuinely impressed. "That's incredible! You must be so excited!"

"Yeah, at first, but now I'm getting nervous," she said, glancing down at the case in her hand. "You wanna hear me play?"

"Duh. Absolutely," you said with a grin. Her eyes lit up and a huge smile spread across her face again.

"O-okay. This is my room right here," she said, turning to her right and opening the door. "Sorry it's messy, my dad's gonna kill me."

"It's totally fine," you said, walking in and sitting down at the edge of her bed. You glanced around the room as she set up her music stand. On the pink walls, she had posters up of her favorite bands with a calendar and string lights draped across the room.

"I really like your room," you said, squinting to look at the stickers and drawings she had on her headboard.

"Thanks," she said sheepishly. "My dad let me do whatever I wanted."

You were about to comment on the various trophies she had on her windowsill when Sarah spoke again.

"Just so you know, I don't mind that you're seeing my dad."

Your eyes shot up to hers in surprise, not sure what to say. You hadn't really had a chance to talk to Joel about your relationship and how that would affect his daughter.

"He's been in such a good mood this past week, and he won't tell me but I know it's because of you," she said, pinning you with a familiar brown gaze.

"Oh, that's so sweet, Sarah," you said, finally finding your voice. "Thank you. That means a lot."

"You're welcome," she said. "I just want him to be happy again."

You dropped your gaze to your lap, your chest tightening at the thought of Joel being so lonely all these years.

"Me, too," you whispered, still looking down. Sarah regarded you for a minute before slapping her palms against the tops of her thighs and leaned down to pick up her violin.

"You ready?" she asked. You looked up and nodded, giving her an encouraging smile and sat back to listen as she began playing a hauntingly beautiful version of 'Silent Night'.

Sarah got about halfway through the song when she hit the wrong note and abruptly stopped, dropping her chin to her chest in frustration.

"Hey, it's okay," Joel heard you say softly as he walked back up the stairs. He paused at the top, right outside Sarah's room to listen.

"It's okay to make mistakes. Just go slower, take your time. Anything worthwhile takes time," you told her, and he smiled when he heard his earlier words to you repeated back to his daughter. He took a step forward to lean against the doorframe and watch the two of you, your back to him as you sat on her bed.

"Okay," Sarah said, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes before lifting the violin to her chin and starting over.

Joel listened to Sarah play the same song he's heard a million times already in just the past month alone, but kept his eyes trained on you. The way you gave her your full, undivided attention and encouraged her with a smile or a thumbs up when she would glance over at you shyly made his chest ache.

When Sarah successfully finished the song with no mistakes, you jumped up from the bed, clapping and cheering for her, making Sarah giggle and hide behind her hands.

Fuck, this was going to be so hard.

"Dad?" Sarah asked the next morning over her bowl of cereal.

"Yeah, baby girl?" he replied, frowning as he pulled his bread from the toaster. He sucked his fingertips into his mouth, trying to bring some relief to the quickly reddening skin.

"Can your friend come to my recital tomorrow?"

Joel froze, his fingers still pressed against his tongue as he slowly turned around to look at her. He dropped his hand and took a deep breath.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," he replied.

"You don't think she would wanna go?" Sarah asked, her eyebrows pinched together.

"No, it's not that, I'm sure she would," he said, trying to find the right words.

"Then what's the problem?"

Joel sighed and picked his mug up from the counter, then walked over to join her at the table.

"She doesn't live here, baby. She's goin' back to New York in another week or so, I don't want you gettin' too attached," he finally admitted, watching Sarah closely as she considered his words.

"Well, you guys like each other, right?" she asked, and Joel smirked.

"Yeah, but it ain't that simple."

"Yes, it is, Dad," she said, rolling her eyes and dipping her spoon back into her bowl. "My friend Katy was dating this guy last year and he switched schools over the summer. They're still together, it doesn't matter," Sarah said with a shrug, taking a bite of cereal.

If the topic didn't fill Joel with a sense of dread, he would have chuckled at the comparison, but instead he just sat there quietly, watching his daughter as she finished her cereal and scrolled on her phone.

Sarah pulled on her backpack and was sliding on her sneakers to catch the bus when she called back to Joel over her shoulder.

"Just ask her, okay? Please, Dad?"

Joel sighed, hanging his head between his shoulders and paused his hands over the dishes in the sink.

"Alright," he relented, and he heard Sarah clap her hands behind him before slamming the front door shut.

You: good morning :)

Joel Miller: Good Morning, sweetheart. I didn't think you would be up this early.

You: couldn't fall back asleep. What are you doing

Joel Miller: Just getting to work. Why couldn't you fall back asleep?

You thought about it for a minute from under the pile of blankets on your bed, rolling to your side before answering.

You: I was thinking about you...

Joel Miller: Good thoughts, I hope?

You: VERY ;)

His throat went dry when he opened the text. He glanced around outside his car window, making sure he was still the only one on the job site before replying.

Joel Miller: What are you trying to tell me, baby?

You smirked and bit down on your lip.

You: I was wishing you were in bed with me right now

"Shit," he muttered to himself, glancing around once again before adjusting his pants.

Joel Miller: Me too, what are you wearing?

The answer came back almost immediately.

You: nothing

He groaned and rubbed his palms roughly over his face.

Joel Miller: You're killing me, baby. I have to get working in a minute.

You: i'm sorry ;)

You: I promised my parents I would go to dinner with them tonight, but are you free tomorrow?

Joel took a deep breath, trying to clear the onslaught of inappropriate thoughts from his head when he remembered his promise to Sarah.

Joel Miller: It's Sarah's recital tomorrow night. She asked me to invite you this morning, did you want to go?

He nervously chewed his cheek for a moment before sending another text.

Joel Miller: No pressure, I can tell her you're busy.

He sent his second text right as your reply came through.

You: I would love to!

He grinned and raked his fingers through his hair. Tommy's knuckles tapped on the outside of Joel's window, making him jump. He held up a finger before sending you a quick answer.

Joel Miller: Sounds great. I'll pick you up. Try to go back to sleep. Dream of me.

Joel opened the door and slid his phone in his back pocket, a stupid grin etched across his face as he joined his brother in the half-built storefront they were working on.

"Oh man, you got it bad," Tommy said with a chuckle when he saw the look on Joel's face.

"Alright, what do you think of this one?" you asked Cassie as you stepped out of the bathroom modeling the sixth dress of the day.

"I liked the red one better," she said, glancing up from her phone.

"Are you sure? This one is a little more chic," you said, twisting around to look at your backside in the mirror.

"It's a high school recital, Buck. I don't think anyone is expecting 'chic'," she teased, and you rolled your eyes.

"Well, I just want to look nice, is all," you said, sitting next to her on your bed in a huff. You tapped your phone screen, frowning when all you had was another text from Sydney and nothing from Joel. You opened it up anyway, curiosity getting the best of you.

Sydney: OMG!!!!!!

You sent back three question marks and locked your phone with a sigh.

"You still wanna get together next week so we can look at apartments online for you?" she asked.

"Yeah," you said sadly, looking out the window.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you told her. "Just not ready to go back yet."

"Could that be because of a certain sexy contractor?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Shut up," you smirked, tossing a pillow at her lightly.

"Ooo you like him! Lookit how red you're getting!"

"I'm gonna kill you when that baby's out, you know that, right?" you giggled.

"Yeah, yeah, sure," Cassie said, looking back down at her phone as the smile slowly faded from her face. "You know you don't have to go back, right?"

"What do you mean? My job is there, my life is there... everything is there," you replied. "Of course I have to go back."

"What life, though?" she asked, and you frowned at her. "Seriously, Buck. Aside from your job, which you hate, what's left?"

"Well, my friends are there. And I don't hate my job that much. I mean, everyone hates their job a little bit," you said with a shrug.

"Is this what you expected to do when you were in college? Is this what you wanted?" Cassie pressed, sitting up on the bed. "Are you even happy?"

You paused, letting her words roll around in your head for a moment.

"Well, I mean..." you trailed off, not sure how to answer her question.

"If you have to think about it this long, I think you know the answer," your sister said quietly. You groaned and rolled off the bed.

"I'm going back. I have to. I can't just give up because some guy broke my heart," you said, turning around so she could unzip the back of your dress.

"I'm just saying, think about it," Cassie replied. "I wouldn't hate it if my child's aunt was in their life more than twice a year!" she called after you as you shut the door to the bathroom.

Joel eagerly jogged up the porch steps and rang the doorbell, very aware of the camera this time while he fiddled with the cuffs on his dark red button down shirt. He heard high heels clicking on the other side of the door and the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile, which quickly vanished when you opened the door and he saw the dress you were wearing.

"Hi," you said with a shy smile, pulling a soft looking white cardigan on over your shoulders.

He thought he had greeted you. He could have sworn he said something, anything, that didn't make him look like a complete idiot, but apparently nothing came out because you scrunched your eyebrows together when you saw his face.

"Are you okay?" you asked, pulling the door shut behind you.

"Yeah, it's just - Jesus, you look so good," he managed to finally say, tilting his head back to stare up at the roof of the porch for a moment, taking a deep breath.

"Thank you," you said with a giggle. "You don't look half bad, yourself."

He rubbed his forehead, exasperated and flustered before pulling you quickly into his arms and latching his mouth onto yours with a groan.

"Joel," you pulled back breathlessly with a small smile and leaned your head to the side, trying to silently remind him of the doorbell. His eyes raked over you hungrily before shaking his head and pulling you back into a deep kiss.

Fuck the camera, let them see.

You giggled against his mouth, causing him to smile and break the kiss.

"Come on, I wanna get good seats," you said, rubbing your thumb over his lower lip to wipe off your lipstick that transferred. It caused his stomach to clench. That sweet, little intimate gesture made him ache for more so badly that he could hardly breathe.

He walked you around the front of his truck, opening the door and giving you a hand so you could hop onto the seat, the gorgeous red dress you were wearing hugging your curves just right and distracting him to no end.

On the walk around to the driver's side, he mentally scolded himself, reminding himself over and over that tonight was a big deal for his little girl and he needed to stay focused.

As he drove down the street, he realized that his hand instinctively found yours across the seat, his body craving the warmth and softness of your own. How on earth was he going to go back to the life he had before, now that he knows what it's like to bask in the heat of your touch?

Once he got to the school, he found a parking spot and jumped out of the truck. You had figured out by now that he preferred you to wait so he could open the car door for you, so you did. Swinging your legs over the side of the seat, you slid down into his waiting arms, your hands gently coming to rest on the tops of his shoulders. He gazed down at you with his arms loosely hanging around your waist. You saw his adam's apple bob in his throat while he let himself get lost in your warm, beautiful eyes. You lifted a finger from his shoulder, tracing an invisible line down the side of his cheek as you stared up at him with your plush lips parted so invitingly that it made his knees weak.

"Joel! Hey!" Tommy's voice called out from behind, snapping you both out of the moment. Joel sighed and untangled himself from you, taking your hand and leading you forward so he could shut the door before turning around to find his brother.

You could see the family resemblance immediately as Tommy approached you with a wide grin. His hair was a bit darker and a lot longer, and his beard was less full than Joel's, but he had the same soft, brown eyes that you had grown to know and love.

Love? Oh, no.

"Hey, Tommy," Joel said as he got closer, his hand pressed firmly on the small of your back. "This is-"

"Oh, I know who she is. How're you doin', darlin'?" Tommy asked, pulling you into a bear hug, taking you by surprise.

"I-I'm good," you squeaked shyly once he released you. "Nice to meet you."

"I've been dyin' to meet the little lady who's got my brother all wrapped up," he replied with a grin.

"Tommy!" Joel seethed warningly at your side, but you just giggled.

"I'm just messin' around. She knows that, right?" he said, shoving his hands in his coat pocket and rolling on the balls of his feet. "Supposed to snow next week, can you believe it?"

"Yeah, I heard we might get a couple feet," Joel said, steering you toward the doors to the auditorium. "Better get your shovel ready."

You settled in between the two brothers as you found a decent spot in the fourth row. Joel draped his arm around the back of your chair while he chatted with Tommy about work. You inadvertently leaned to the side and rested your shoulder against his chest as you glanced around the room, admiring the lit up garlands around the windows and Christmas trees on the stage with fake presents underneath.

When their conversation died down, Tommy pulled out his phone and began scrolling through social media, holding it low between his spread knees with his chin tucked into his chest.

Joel tilted his face forward to press his lips on the top of your head, breathing in a deep and contented breath. A small smile played across your lips as you turned your gaze up towards him, resting your cheek gently on his shoulder. He looked down at you with a smile and planted a chaste kiss on your forehead, and as each of you slid your eyes closed for a moment, Tommy angled his phone to snap a quick picture, smiling to himself and making a mental note to show his brother later.

The lights dimmed and you all straightened up in your seats. You listened to the music teacher make a small speech at the beginning and politely clapped afterwards. You saw Sarah twice throughout the concert as part of the orchestra, smiling at how focused and beautiful she looked in her white dress. As the concert wound down, Sarah finally came out on stage for her solo, and the three of you eagerly leaned forward. At the last minute, you remembered to pull out your phone and start a video, telling yourself you were doing it for Joel so that he could be in the moment, but you knew you would end up watching it by yourself when you went back to New York City.

The performance was flawless. When it was over, the three of you lept up from your seats, cheering, jumping and clapping, making her wave and blush as she exited the stage. You sat down, giggling, as the people surrounding you gave you all polite smiles and chuckles, then quieted down for the finale.

When the lights came back up, everyone stood from their seats, murmuring and laughing while waiting for their kids to come out from backstage and take pictures. You saw a flash of white out of the corner of your eye and moved out of the way just in time for Sarah to run and jump up into Joel's arms, burying her face in his neck. He squeezed his eyes shut, his arms wrapped around her tightly, murmuring praise in her ear. You felt warmth spread across your chest as you watched them have their moment, the corners of your mouth turned up into a smile with your hands clasped together against your chest.

He let her down gently and she turned to give Tommy a quick hug. He spun her around, making her giggle and fidget with her dress before she turned to you.

"You came!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms loosely around your waist. Your eyes widened in surprise, not expecting such affection from her, but you quickly returned the hug.

"Of course I came! Thank you for inviting me," you said, pulling back with a grin. "You were absolutely perfect, I took a video, I'll send it to your dad so he can show you later."

"I did exactly what you told me, I slowed down and took my time," she beamed, and it gave you a new feeling deep in your chest that you never felt before.

"That's great, Sarah," you replied, your throat tight with emotion. Tommy dropped his gaze from you and ticked his jaw to the side, finally understanding why Joel was hesitant to let Sarah know about the two of you.

"Dad?" Sarah asked, turning away from you. "Can I sleep over at Katy's? She's having a bunch of girls over and her mom said it was okay."

"Uh, sure, baby girl. Don't you need clothes and stuff?"

"I have stuff I keep here in my locker for gym," she said.

"Well, alright, lemme talk to her mom first," he replied, glancing around the room.

"Thank you! She's right over here," she said, grabbing his hand. "Thanks for coming!" she called back last minute over her shoulder to you and Tommy, and you both smiled and waved as she dragged her father across the room.

"She's so talented," you said, turning to Tommy. He looked down at you and gave you a weak smile.

"Yeah, she's somethin' else," he said with a nod. "Hey, listen. I'm havin' a get together next week at my house. Little Christmas party, I guess. I invited a guy I met at your parents' house - Josh? He's comin' with his wife, Joel and Sarah'll be there, I'd love for you to come by if you can."

"Josh is my brother in law," you clarified for him. "That sounds great, I'll be there, thank you."

"You're welcome," Tommy said, then his brows pinched together as he opened his mouth again to speak. "Joel might kill me for sayin' this, but you gotta know how happy you've -"

"Ready to go?" Joel asked, sneaking up beside you. Tommy cleared his throat and gave his brother an innocent smile.

"Yep," you replied, dropping your hand to find his at your side, lacing your fingers together and giving him a gentle squeeze.

After saying goodbye to Tommy, Joel slowly led you through the parking lot to his truck, desperately trying to think of something else you could do, not ready to drop you off yet. He knew the time you had together was coming to an end, and he wanted to soak up every precious second. Especially after the way he saw you with Sarah: so warm and sweet and patient. He couldn't remember the last time he saw his daughter's eyes light up that way.

He prided himself on being a good father since his wife left. Always making sure to put Sarah first, that she got everything she could ever want or need. Especially his love. When his ex abandoned them, he made sure Sarah got every ounce of love he had, hoping it would help make up for the loss. But as hard as he tried, he could never fully fill both roles. There were just some things that a mother provided for her daughter that Joel couldn't give.

He didn't realize it until he saw you with Sarah earlier that night, and then it felt like everything shifted into focus for the first time in his life.

He held out his hand to help you get back into his truck, making sure your legs were safely tucked in before he gently shut the door.

Sitting in the driver's seat gripping the steering wheel, he stared straight ahead for a moment in complete silence, the keys still in his coat pocket while his mind reeled.

"Is everything okay?" you asked timidly. He blinked and turned to you.

"Yeah," he said hoarsely. He swallowed and looked at his watch.

"You wanna get coffee or somethin'? I know it's gettin' late but I'm sure some place's open," he said, deep in thought as he considered the cafés nearby.

"Don't you have coffee at your house?" you asked shyly. His eyes snapped up to yours and he saw the flush creeping up your neck and the rapid rise and fall of your chest.

Oh.

"Yeah, yes," he croaked, nervously clearing his throat. "Let's do that. I have- yeah, good idea," he stammered, fumbling with the keys in his pocket.

You smirked as you watched his shaky hand turn the key in the ignition. He twisted around to back out of the parking spot, and this time you gave into temptation, unbuckling your seatbelt so you could slide over and tuck yourself under his arm. He immediately pulled you closer, not even caring that you weren't wearing your seatbelt. He would make sure to drive safe. Nothing could possibly ruin that night. He wouldn't let it.

At stop lights, you would run your hand up his chest and plant small kisses against the corner of his mouth, filling him with a radiating bliss he never felt before.

Once you got back to his house, you shrugged off your sweater and trailed behind him as he made his way into the kitchen. You leaned against the wall and watched as he opened one of the cupboards - the one with the small birds carved into the bottom - and pulled down a can of coffee.

"I don't think I have any decaf," he said turning to look at you.

"I don't want coffee, Joel," you said lowly. He swallowed roughly and put the can on the counter.

"What d'you want, then?"

You pushed yourself off the wall and slowly walked towards him, his eyes skating up and down your body as you approached. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you tilted your face up to gaze at him, your mouth hovering over his own.

"I want you."

His eyes fluttered closed as your lips slotted against his, his rough hands immediately coming up to cup your smooth face, holding you firmly against his mouth. Christ, he would never get tired of kissing you. If he could do it every single day for the rest of his life, he would. He knew it seemed crazy. He knew you just met, but he couldn't help the way you made him feel.

"Let's go upstairs," you whispered, nipping at his lower lip.

He couldn't speak. He just nodded in a daze and let you lead him coyly up the steps, then turned around to walk backwards down the hall towards his bedroom so you could pull him tightly against your body. His big hands gripped your waist while his tongue slipped past your lips, searching for its mate.

You reached behind you blindly, your hand fighting with the doorknob as his big frame caged you in against the wood, his masculine scent invading your senses and making it difficult to think. Finally, the door swung open and you both stumbled in, a giggle erupting from your throat as your fingers got to work undoing the buttons on his dress shirt.

You hurriedly tugged his button down off, leaving it in a heap on the floor as you slid your palms underneath the white t-shirt he had on, feeling the warm skin of his stomach and chest for the first time.

"Off," you whispered, your heart getting stuck in your throat when he yanked the shirt over his head, leaving his upper body completely bare to you. Your mouth went dry as you drank him in, then lunged forward, your lips brushing up his sternum until you reached his collarbone. You sucked on a bit of tanned skin there with a moan, then slipped your tongue out to press wetly against the red mark you left, feeling drunk off the taste of his sweat.

He gently pushed you backwards so he could ease you down onto his bed, his breath growing erratic and desperate with each little bite you left on his chest. God, has anyone ever desired him this much before? Has he really been missing out on this his entire life?

"Baby, we're gonna have to stop soon if you don't want this to go any further," he murmured. He found himself in the familiar position of hovering above you while his hand slid down your leg and toyed with the hem of your dress.

"I don't think I can take much more, tell me to stop," he whispered when you didn't answer, running the tip of his nose softly against your cheek.

"I don't want you to stop," you gasped as his fingers slipped underneath your dress. You tilted your head back and moaned when you felt his fingertips brush against the damp fabric of your panties.

His mouth hungrily devoured the exposed cleavage of your breasts, growing frustrated with the fabric of your dress keeping him from seeing all of you.

"Sit up," he demanded, leaning back and pulling his hand from between your legs. You obeyed, and he made short work of your zipper, pulling it all the way down so you could shimmy out, leaving you in just your underwear.

"Oh, fuck," he whispered when he realized you weren't wearing a bra. You let yourself fall back gently on the bed, spreading your arms out above your head so he could see every inch of you in the moonlight.

He couldn't believe this was actually happening. He kept waiting for his alarm to go off and reality to slap him across the face, but it never came. His heart was pounding so fast, he was sure you could hear it as he leaned back down and nibbled at your exposed jaw while his calloused hand cupped your soft breast, his thumb flicking over your hardening nipple.

You scraped your nails over his shoulders and down his chest as you arched your back, pressing into his hand, needing to feel the heat of his skin against your own. Your stomach flipped as you made your way down to his belt, and with shaky fingers, pulled hastily at the leather.

Yanking the belt through the loops with one swift motion, you flung it across the room, making him chuckle against your skin. When you started to work on popping open the button on his dress pants, a devastating thought suddenly occurred to him.

"Shit, wait," he said, putting his hand on top of yours. You frowned up at him, your chest heaving, as you gave him a confused look.

"I don't have any protection," he said through gritted teeth. He hung his head and squeezed his eyes shut angrily. "I-I haven't been with anyone since my ex, and I never thought... fuck," he said, clenching his jaw.

You weighed your options for about half a second before tugging his chin up, forcing him to look at you.

"I'm still on birth control," you told him, searching his eyes. "I mean, only if you're comfortable with it, we don't have to," you said, but in your head you were chanting please, please, please.

"Are you sure?" he asked, panting for air. "I don't wanna make you feel like -"

"Yes," you said, cutting him off by grabbing his face. "Yes. I'm sure, Joel. Please," you whimpered, pulling him back down to you, his mouth crashing down on yours again.

"Please," you whispered again, tipping your head back as his lips left a trail of soft kisses down your throat. "Please, Joel, I need you."

His mouth stuttered against your neck. Hearing you beg and say you needed him when he never thought he would ever be needed like this in his whole life made his mind go blank.

"Okay," he rasped. "Okay, baby."

He tugged at the zipper on his black pants and pulled them off as quickly as he could without leaving you. You reached down to help him, hooking your fingers over the band of his boxers and shoving them down. He kicked them off before yanking down your panties, dropping them on the floor next to his clothes.

You eagerly spread your legs so he could settle his hips between them. You glanced down with a small gasp when you saw the size of him and you felt your cheeks flare. Jesus Christ.

He didn't seem to notice your reaction when he was too wrapped up in staring at the wet heat between your legs, pulsing and waiting, just for him. He slid a finger gently between your folds, making you moan and your back arch. Fuck, he loved how responsive you were to his touch.

He readjusted so he was kneeling between your legs. His palms slid up your calves, past your knees and to your inner thighs, pressing them down into the mattress so you were spread wide.

He lined himself up at your center, glancing up at you quickly to make sure you were ready. You swallowed and nodded, your eyes filled with desire, desire for him, something he still couldn't fathom but decided not to question. He pressed forward gently, notching himself against you before falling forward on his elbows.

He kissed the tip of your nose as he eased himself inside you, pausing when he heard you gasp and felt you tense under him.

"More," you finally croaked, your nails coming up to rake against his scalp. He let out the breath he was holding and pushed in further, his eyes fluttering shut and his mouth falling open as he felt you slowly stretch around him so perfectly, like you were made just for him.

"Oh, god," he sighed, dropping his face to the crook of your neck after he fully sheathed himself inside you. He dragged his mouth across your chest, leaving a wet trail from his tongue and red marks from his scratchy beard in his wake. He waited until he felt your muscles relax under him before he slowly rolled his hips, dragging himself in and out as his teeth scraped over your tightening nipples. You moaned his name softly, the sound permanently etched in his brain, a sound he will refuse to forget for the rest of his life.

He began to roll his hips faster at your encouragement, becoming obsessed with the way you felt and the sounds you made, and it was all for him. He spent so much of his life giving to everyone around him, he never truly felt like anyone was able or willing to give him what he needed in return until now. The recognition was depressing and freeing at the same time. Now that he finally had what he always wanted, what he always needed, he was going to lose you and there was nothing he could do about it.

Each moan from your throat and each kiss from your lips dragged him down deeper and deeper until he collided head first with the stunning, yet so painfully obvious, realization that he was deliriously in love with you. It was insane, he knew that. But it didn't make it any less true.

"Joel," you gasped, pulling him out of his trance and back to the present.

"Yeah, baby? I'm here. I'm right here," he whispered, planting soft kisses all over your face.

You bit down on your lower lip and squeezed your eyes shut. The sheer intensity behind his gaze coupled with the agony of only getting to experience this for one more short week made tears burn in the backs of your eyes.

You felt your orgasm begin to swell deep in your belly while your breath became more ragged and your vision went spotty. It shouldn't feel this good. This was cruel, to be able to experience something like this just to have it brutally ripped away from you. It wasn't fair, yet you never wanted it to stop.

He could feel it. It's been years, and it was never, ever like this, but he still knew. The way you whimpered and clawed at his back while your walls squeezed him so tightly, he thought he might pass out.

"Open your eyes," he panted. "I wanna look at you."

You forced your eyes open, now unable to hold back the tears that pooled there as two drops trickled down the side of your face, getting lost in your hair.

"It's okay, I got you," he whispered lovingly, staring deep into your eyes, seeing everything you didn't dare say out loud.

"You can let go, baby," he told you, his hips snapping against you ruthlessly, desperate to come at the same time.

You felt the wave rip through you like fire, the power and emotion behind it unlike anything you ever felt before. More tears poured from your eyes as you cried out his name, your thighs squeezing his hips so tightly you weren't sure you would be able to stand after.

He followed seconds later with a deep groan, spilling himself deep inside you while murmuring praise and wiping away your tears with his thumb.

"Why're you cryin', did I hurt you?" he asked, his voice filled with so much concern that it broke your heart. You shook your head, wiping the tears away with the back of your hand, but fresh ones just took their place.

"C'mon, talk to me," he urged, leaning up a bit as he softened inside you.

"What are we gonna do, Joel?" you blubbered pathetically. He took a shaky breath in and tenderly tucked your hair behind your ear.

"I don't know, baby, but we'll figure somethin' out. We gotta," he said with a sigh.

"I can't lose you," you whispered, pressing your forehead against his and closing your eyes.

"You'll never lose me, I can promise you that," he replied, pressing a gentle kiss against your swollen lips.

He waited until your tears slowed down before sliding out of you with a hiss. Rolling off to your side, he wrapped his arms around your middle and pulled you close against his chest, and as you finally drifted off in his embrace, he thought about all of the options available before you, determined to find a solution.

Tag list: @lola8888673 @pedropascalsbbg @nandan11 @sushiumex @serenadingtigers @jjlevin @survivingandenduring @amyispxnk @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @merz-8 @wonyoungismind @fandomscollide @anoverwhelmingdin @cayleejx16 @msjjekyll @lizzie-cakes @hexedbywanda @harriedandharassed @joeldjarin - lmk if i missed anyone, if your name is crossed out it means it won't let me tag you

[rynwritesreid]

A night to remember-Spencer Reid

A/N: Okay, firstly thank you for all the love on mind-games, honestly I might post the next chapter next week but I am not sure. Also, for some reason even if you @ is correct and everything, some times tumblr won’t let me tag you :(

Summary: Spencer is back from prison, and he’s changed but not in all the ways you want. You discuss with Spencer something you’ve been wanting to try and he is willing to give it a shot.

Content: Post prison Spencer. Fem!reader. Mean dom spencer. Sub!reader. Pet names/name calling. Degrading kink. Overstimulation. Orgasm denial. Begging. Established relationship. Smut (and some fluff). Spencer asks a lot of time for your consent (as they should, especially if you are in BDSM dom/sub relationship). Begging. Sex toys. Virginal fingering. Handcuffs(slight bondage ig) 18+

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It wasn’t a secret that prison, and the whole Cat Adams situation, had changed Spencer. It was evident in the way Spencer carried himself, the hardened glint in his eyes that pierced through the darkness. The weight of his experiences behind bars had etched lines on his face, transforming him into someone unrecognizable.

 

He seemed darker; he didn’t seem to mind having to kill in order to protect anymore. He had told you on several occasions that he would kill for you, well his exact words were; “you I’d kill for you. I mean if anyone ever tried to hurt you, I would make sure that’s the last ever thing they’d do.”

 

Though Spencer had always been protective, this was new, and while the rest of the team knew what he had been through recently had changed him, they had no idea just how much it had changed him.

 

Spencer had also changed how he was at home; he was no longer ‘vanilla’, but he wasn’t exactly rough. He treated you like a princess; he would not let you go to sleep until he had at least made you cum twice. And while you loved this, you wanted him to be rough with you, degrade you, to spank you and to deny you the pleasure he so often gives you.

 

But you didn’t know how to bring this up with him. You didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable, or like he wasn’t good enough and that you weren’t enjoying what he was doing. However, you also knew nothing would change if you didn’t bring this up with him.

 

One evening, as Spencer cooked dinner for the both of them, you couldn't help but find the perfect opportunity to broach the subject. The room was filled with the aroma of his signature dish, a comforting reminder of the old Spencer, and you felt a pang of nostalgia.

 

As you sat across from him, you took a deep breath and began, "Spencer, I know things have changed since your time in prison, but I need to tell you something that's been on my mind."

 

He halted mid-stir, his knife-wielding hand trembling slightly. You could see the cogs turning behind his eyes, trying to process the implications of your words.

 

"I want to try something new in the bedroom. I want you to be rough with me, to dominate me, to make me feel as if I'm entirely under your control. I mean don’t get me wrong I enjoy what you do now, but I want this, I’ve wanted this for so long.”

 

Spencer set the knife down carefully on the cutting board, wiping his hand on his apron before turning to face you. The look of concern had faded, replaced by a hint of curiosity and intrigue. He had always been good at reading people; this was no different.

 

"Is that all?" he asked, eyebrows raised. "You want me to be rough with you? To dominate you?"

 

You nodded, glancing down at your own hands, fidgeting nervously in your lap. A sudden surge of heat filled your cheeks as you spoke, "Yes, Spencer. I want you to control me. I want you to take me in a way that I've never been taken before. I want to feel completely vulnerable and at your mercy.

 

It was a request he had never received before, but he saw the raw desire in your eyes. He could sense the urgency in your voice, and the hunger that was burning deep within you.

 

"Alright, but I need you to trust me," he said, taking a deep breath. "This will be different, and it might be intense."

 

You nodded, your heart racing with anticipation. You had never felt this way before, this desperate need to be dominated, to give yourself completely to him. The thought of it made you shudder with excitement.

 

“Well, we can’t do anything now, we need to eat, so you just sit there and look pretty for the time been while I finish dinner, okay?” Spencer chuckled under his breath, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The look in your eyes told him that this wasn't just some fleeting desire, it was something that had been simmering deep within you for quite some time. He knew that he had to tread carefully, as this was uncharted territory for both of them.

 

Spencer continued to prepare the meal, his thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. He knew that he had to show you the intensity and control you craved without truly hurting you. He needed to make you trusted him completely, and only then could he truly take control.

 

As dinner was ready, Spencer dished up the meal and served it onto the plates. Sitting down, he took a moment to observe you. Your eyes were filled with a mixture of anticipation and a slight hint of trepidation. He knew you were scared, but he also knew that you trusted him enough to explore this new territory.

 

"You have my word," he said softly, looking directly into your eyes. "I'll take care of you, and I'll make sure you feel safe and cherished throughout this whole experience. But you have to trust me. Can you do that?"

 

You looked into his eyes, feeling a wave of relief wash over you at his promise. Trusting him was easy, you knew that. You trusted him with your life, and that was no small thing.

 

"Yes, Spencer," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "I trust you."

 

He smiled; relief evident in his expression. "Good," he said, taking your hand in his. "Then let's eat, and we'll talk about what this entails later."

 

As you ate, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement building within you. This wasn't just about trying something new; it was about exploring a side of your relationship that you had never dared too before. You knew it would be intense, but you trusted Spencer to guide you through it.

 

After dinner, you both sat on the couch, the dishes cleaned up and put away. Spencer turned to face you; his expression serious but gentle.

 

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubts.

 

You nodded, taking a deep breath. "I trust you, Spencer. I know you'll take care of me."

 

He smiled, reaching out to cup your face in his hands. "I won't let you down," he promised, his voice firm and reassuring.

 

With that, he leaned in and kissed you lightly, a tender touch that spoke of the trust and affection that had always been the foundation of your relationship.

 

You watched as he moved closer, his eyes never leaving yours. He kissed you again, this time with more passion, his lips lingering on yours. You could feel his hand gently brushing your hair off your face, his touch sending a shiver through your body.

 

"You're mine," he whispered, his voice low and intense.

 

You smiled up at him, your heart racing. This was it, the moment you had been waiting for. You knew that it would be intense, that it would test your limits, but you trusted him completely.

 

"I'm yours," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

 

Spencer slowly pulled away, his eyes never leaving yours. He traced his fingers along your jaw, his touch gentle but firm. He could feel the heat radiating from your skin, a testament to the desire that was coursing through you.

 

He stood up, towering over you, his body tense with anticipation. You could see the change in him, the alpha male dominance that had been dormant for so long beginning to surface.

 

"Are you sure about this?" he asked one last time, his voice deep and commanding.

 

You nodded, your heart racing. You were ready for this, ready to explore the darker side of your desires.

 

With that, Spencer reached down and grabbed your hand, pulling you to your feet. He led you to the bedroom, the air thick with anticipation.

 

As you entered the bedroom, Spencer turned to face you, his eyes burning with intensity. He was no longer the gentle man you had known before, but a powerful and dominating presence that filled the room.

 

"Kneel," he commanded, his voice thick with desire.

 

You quickly obeyed, your heart pounding with excitement as you looked up at him. He stood over you, his muscles tense, his eyes fixed on your face.

 

"You're mine," he repeated, his voice a low growl. "And you will submit to me completely."

 

You nodded, your eyes never leaving his. You were ready for this, ready to give yourself to him completely. He reached down and grabbed your wrist, pulling you to your feet.

 

"Take off your clothes," he ordered, his voice firm.

 

You did as he commanded, feeling a thrill of excitement as you stripped down to your underwear. He watched you intently, his eyes never leaving your body. He knew what he wanted, and he was going to take it.

 

He took a step forward, touching your skin for the first time. His fingers traced the curve of your hip, the soft skin of your stomach, and the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. You shivered, feeling a flood of pleasure course through your body.

 

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice rough with desire.

 

His hands moved up to your breasts, cupping them in his large palms, kneading them gently. You moaned softly, your desire for him growing stronger by the second.

 

Spencer's lips met your neck, his tongue tracing the curve of your throat, and his teeth gently nipping at your skin. He moved down to one of your breasts, taking it into his mouth and sucking it gently. You arched your back, thrusting your chest out to meet his lips, and he took the other breast in his mouth as well.

 

He stood up, undressing himself as he did so. You watched, mesmerized, as his body revealed itself to you. He was everything you had imagined and more.

 

He stood in front of you, his erection hard and ready. You reached out to touch him, but he stopped you.

 

"No," he commanded, his voice firm. "I decide when you touch me.”

 

You looked up at him, your eyes pleading. You wanted so much to touch him, but you trusted him enough to follow his lead.

 

"Turn around," he commanded, his voice low and seductive.

 

You complied, your heart racing as you did so. You knew that this was the moment you had been waiting for, and you were ready to give yourself to him completely.

 

Spencer stood behind you, his hands resting gently on your hips. He leaned in and whispered in your ear, "You're mine, and I'm going to take you in ways you've never imagined before."

 

He slowly began to touch your skin, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip, the soft skin of your stomach, and the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. You shivered, feeling a flood of pleasure course through your body. His fingers moved up to your breasts, cupping them in his large palms, kneading them gently. You moaned softly, your desire for him growing stronger by the second.

 

Spencer's lips met your neck, his tongue tracing the curve of your throat, and his teeth gently nipping at your skin. He moved down to one of your breasts, taking it into his mouth and sucking it gently.

 

"You ready for this?" he asked, his voice low and seductive.

 

"Yes," you whispered, your voice shaking with anticipation.

 

As you spoke, you felt his hands on your waist, pulling you closer. His erection was now pressed against your back, a reminder of what was to come.

 

He guided you towards the bed, gently placing you down on the soft sheets. You could feel the anticipation building inside you, your heart pounding with excitement.

Spencer climbed on top of you, his body hovering above you. He looked into your eyes, his expression intense and full of desire.

 

"Are you sure about this?" he asked one last time, his voice deep and commanding.

 

You nodded, your eyes never leaving his. "I trust you," you whispered. "I'm yours."

 

With that, he leaned down and kissed you passionately, his lips crushing against yours. His tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring, and tasting you, as if to mark his territory.

 

You could feel his breath against your skin, hot and ragged, matched only by your own. His hips moved against yours, his erection pulsing with desire, and you knew that this was it. This was the moment you had been waiting for, the moment when you would give yourself completely to him.

 

He slowly pulled away, his eyes never leaving yours. He traced his fingers along your jaw, his touch gentle but firm. You could feel the tingle of his fingers on your skin, a reminder of the journey you were about to embark on.

 

He reached down and grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head. You felt the rush of dominance that flowed through him, a primal instinct that had been dormant for so long but was now fully alive.

 

"You're mine," he growled, his voice thick with desire. "And you will do as I say."

 

His eyes bored into yours, filled with a fierce intensity that made your heart race even faster. You could see the animalistic hunger in him, the raw desire that couldn't be contained any longer.

 

He leaned down and nipped at your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, causing you to moan in pleasure. You could feel the heat of his body against your own, and you knew that there was no turning back now.

 

Spencer's lips moved up to your ear, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered, "You're going to love this."

 

You felt his erection throbbing against your thigh, a reminder of what was to come. You were ready for this, ready to give yourself completely to him.

 

He slowly moved his hand down your body, trailing his fingers along your side until they reached your inner thigh. You could feel the heat and desire radiating from his body, and you knew that this was the moment you had been waiting for.

 

As his fingers brushed against the sensitive skin near your core, you felt a surge of pleasure and arousal coursing through your body. You arched your back, pressing yourself against him, wanting more.

 

Spencer's hand continued to explore your body, moving lower and lower until he finally reached your most intimate place. He slowly slid one finger inside you, feeling the warmth and wetness that welcomed him.

 

You moaned softly, your body trembling with pleasure as his finger moved inside you. He pulled it out and brought it up to your lips, smearing your essence on them.

 

"Taste yourself," he commanded, his voice deep and authoritative.

 

You complied, licking his finger clean, savouring the taste of your own desire. It only fuelled your desire for him even more.

 

"You taste delicious, don’t you," Spencer whispered, his eyes burning with desire.

 

With his other hand, he slowly pulled your legs apart, spreading them wide open for him. You could feel the heat between your legs growing, and you knew that this was the moment you had been waiting for.

 

As his fingers continued to explore your body, you felt a wave of pleasure wash over you like a tidal wave. You knew that you were completely at his mercy and that he was going to take you to places you never thought possible.

 

Spencer's hand continued to move between your legs, teasing and taunting you with its every touch. You were more than ready for him, your body trembling with anticipation, and yet he seemed to want to savour this moment.

 

Your heart was pounding in your chest, your breath coming quicker and quicker as you felt his fingers slowly enter you again. This time, he didn't stop, pulling out and plunging back in, faster and harder with each thrust.

 

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned, his voice ragged with desire. "I want you so bad."

 

You could feel his erection pressing against your thigh, throbbing with need, and you wanted nothing more than to feel him inside you.

 

"I'm going to make you scream my name," Spencer promised, his voice low and sultry.

 

As he continued to thrust into you, his fingers moving in and out of you in a rhythm that was both maddening and intoxicating, you couldn't help but moan softly, your body arching in response to his touch. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your desire for him growing stronger with each passing second.

 

“You look so beautiful like this, surrendering yourself to me, letting me make you moan like the slut you really are.” He whispered; his voice filled with lust.

 

Your body trembled in response, your arousal increasing with every word. You knew that you were completely at his mercy, and you loved every moment of it.

 

Spencer's fingers continued to move inside you, pulsing rhythmically with his thrusts. You could feel his erection growing harder and thicker against your thigh, and you knew that he was close.

 

"I want to hear you scream," Spencer hissed.

 

Just as you were about cum, he pulled a way, a small smirk on his face.

 

“Did you think I was going to let you cum that easily?” he asked, his voice filled with amusement.

 

You gasped, your body flush with disappointment but also anticipation. He knew exactly what he was doing to you, and it was thrilling.

 

Spencer leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. "I'm going to make you beg for it," he whispered, “and remember when you are begging for it, you asked for this, you wanted this.”

 

He slowly put his fingers back in you, but his pace no longer fast, it was slow, and it was deliberate.

 

"Please, Spencer," you whimpered, your body craving the release that he was denying you.

 

“Is that all you’ve got baby? And is this all it’s taken me?” he taunted, his lips still brushing against your ear. "You're going to have to do better than that, little one."

 

His fingers moved in and out of you, teasing your most sensitive spot, and you knew that he was going to make you beg for it. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your body trembling with the need to cum.

 

And just like before he stopped, he wasn’t going to give in even though it was killing him not too. Your eyes were pleading with him, begging him to continue, but you both knew that wasn’t going to happen.

 

“Now if I remember correctly, you brought toys to replace me while I was gone, didn’t you?” he smirked, his eyes locked on yours, “I think it’s time to put them to use.”

Spencer’s eyes were scanning the room, trying to see where you might have put them, he knew it wouldn’t have been in any of the normal places. That’s when his eyes landed on the wardrobe, and he looked back at you.

 

“I can see that look in your eyes, baby. You’re so desperate for it, aren’t you?” he murmured, his voice low and seductive. “Now did you hide them in there, princess?”

 

You nod yes, unable to form any more words as you feel a surge of anticipation and desire.

 

Spencer walks over to the wardrobe and opens it, revealing a small collection of sex toys that you had purchased while he was away. He grabs a vibrator and a pair of handcuffs, his eyes never leaving yours.

 

"I knew you couldn't resist," he smirks, his voice filled with victory. "Now, let's see how much you can take, shall we?"

 

He walks back over to you, the vibrator in his hand, and secures your hands above your head with the handcuffs. You struggle slightly, but the desire coursing through you is too intense to resist.

 

You watch as Spencer approaches you, his eyes burning with hunger. He runs the tip of the vibrator along your sensitive skin, teasing you mercilessly.

 

"This is going to feel so good, baby," he whispers, his voice thick with desire. His tone is commanding, and you have no choice but to obey.

 

He turns on the vibrator and presses it against your clit, and you let out a soft moan. The sensation is intense, and you can feel your body responding to it.

 

"That's it, baby," Spencer encourages. "You're so wet, so ready for me."

 

He pushes the vibrator inside you, and you feel it pulsate against your inner walls. "Take it all, you slut."

 

Your eyes roll back as the sensation overwhelms you, and you let out a loud moan of pleasure. Spencer smiles slyly, watching as you lose control.

 

"There's my good girl," he purrs. "You're such a dirty little slut."

 

He increases the speed of the vibrator, and you arch your back, trying to get closer to the pleasure. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer, your body trembling with each pulse of the vibrator.

 

"Please," you whimper, your voice barely a whisper. "Don't stop."

 

Spencer grins, his eyes locked on yours. "Not yet baby. I want to see you beg for it."

 

He pulls the vibrator out of you and turns it off, leaving you desperate for more. You look at him in desperation, your pupils dilated, your breathing ragged.

 

"Please, Spencer," you beg, your voice shaking with need. "Please, I need it so badly."

 

He smirks at your desperation, his eyes never leaving yours. "You want it?”

 

With a sly grin, he takes the vibrator and runs it along your outer lips, teasing you mercilessly. You can't help but moan softly, your body arching towards him in response.

 

"Beg for it, baby," he commands, his voice a mix of desire and amusement. "Tell me how much you need it."

 

Your breath hitches in your throat, your desire for him growing stronger with each passing second. "I need it so badly, Spencer. Please, I'm begging you."

 

He chuckles softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "That's my good girl. You know exactly what you want."

 

And with that, he pressed the vibrator back inside you, and you let out a loud moan of pleasure. It felt amazing, better than anything you had ever experienced before. He continued to tease you with the vibrator, moving it in and out of you, and you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

 

"Please, Spencer," you pleaded, your voice shaking with need. "Please let me cum. Please make me cum."

 

He smirked at your desperation; his eyes locked on yours. "You're going to have to beg for it, my dear," he said, his voice low and sultry.

 

But you didn't care. You needed this. You needed him. And so, you let out a desperate moan, your body trembling with the need to cum. "Please, Spencer," you pleaded, "I need it so badly. Please make me cum.”

 

You were past the point of no return, Spencer's commands and denial only adding fuel to the fire. Your body was on fire, desperately craving the release he was denying you. You knew you could take it no longer, and yet, you found yourself begging for more.

 

"Please, Spencer," you moaned, your voice pleading. "Let me cum."

 

He chuckled, a wicked glimmer in his eyes. "Not yet baby. I want to draw this out," he said, running the vibrator over your clit, sending shivers of pleasure through your body.

 

"Please, Spencer," you begged, your voice hoarse. "I need it so badly."

 

He smirked, a devilish look on his face. "But you're forgetting something, you asked for this. You wanted to be treated like a slut, but now you’re begging for me to make you cum?”

 

You knew you needed to beg for it. You needed to surrender to him, to let him have control over your body, your mind, your very being.

 

"Please, Spencer," you whimpered, "please make me cum. Please, I can't take it anymore.”

 

He took the vibrator and ran it along your outer lips, teasing you mercilessly. You could feel the pulsating sensation building up inside you, your body arching towards him in response.

 

"Please, Spencer," you begged. "I need it so badly."

 

He chuckled; his eyes locked on yours. "You really are a dirty slut, aren't you?"

 

You nodded, your mind reeling with the intensity of the experience. Spencer did take some pity on you; he could see your eyes were filling with tears and he did love to watch you cum.

 

"That's it, baby," he whispered, his voice full of desire. "Beg for it, let me hear how much you need it."

 

You choked out the words, your voice rough with need. "Please, Spencer. Please make me cum. I need it so badly."

 

He smirked, his eyes never leaving yours. "Well, aren't you the perfect slut?"

 

With that, he turned on the vibrator and ran it over your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You arched your back, your hips bucking against the vibrator.

 

"That's it, baby," he urged, his voice filled with command. “Cum for me, letting me see what I can do to you.”

 

And with that, you felt the orgasm building up inside you, closer and closer until you couldn't take it anymore. You let out a loud moan of pleasure, feeling the waves rush through your body as you finally succumbed to the desire that had been building up inside you.

 

"That's it, baby," Spencer said, his voice filled with triumph. "You're mine, every bit of you, and you'll never forget this moment."

 

You lay there, panting and sweating, feeling completely spent. Your body was trembling, your mind was still reeling from the sensations you had just experienced. You felt like you had been pushed to the limit and beyond, but you also knew that you had never felt more alive.

 

As you lay there, basking in the afterglow of your orgasm, you couldn't help but feel a sense of submission, a feeling of being completely under Spencer's control. You knew that you had begged for it, and you had enjoyed every moment of it.

 

Spencer leaned down and kissed your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. "That was incredible, baby. You'll always be my dirty little slut."

 

You couldn't help but smile, feeling a sense of pride in the role you had played in this scene. You knew that you had given him exactly what he wanted, and that feeling of power was exhilarating.

 

“Now I am going to go get some water, because that was intense.” You watched as Spencer got up to go get some water, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and admiration for him.

 

You knew that Spencer was also going to need so aftercare, because that was his first time doing something like this, but you also knew you were going to have to drink before you could do anything.

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[casualhedonists]

✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter three)

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader

chapter: 3/? (MASTERLIST)

warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism, murder mention (but no actual murder) (not yet at least?), MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, power play, oral sex, thigh riding, degradation, dirty talk, eventual piv, i’m new to full on smut bear with me here (and pls tell me if i forgot anything!)

i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.

taglist: if you’d like to be tagged, leave a comment on the masterlist post and i’ll add you! 💌

a/n: thank you for your patience and condolences / kind messages over the past week i’ve been awol. i’m very happy to be back. very long, filthy and much awaited chapter ahead, so strap in and hope you enjoy the ride.

in the words of miss zegler herself: oh we are so back.

You weren’t sure how long he stared at you, smiling with a fire in his eyes that rivalled yours until it was eclipsed. A third and final time, you found yourself speechless, dumbstruck, and one final time, much like the others, you took a few shaky steps backwards, before turning and fleeing.

He knew. He’d known this whole time. How long had he been planning this? Exactly how much of this had been an act, with Snow puppeteering you as you slowly lost your mind?

You almost felt pity for the girl, because she was played just like you were. She was a mere pawn in his game of chess, where he’d toyed with you until you were backed into a corner, unable to make a move.

Well, not this time. Now you knew what he was playing, you were ready to up your game. This wouldn’t be another stalemate; you wanted to win, and you had a few ideas of where to start.

You were already up and dressed when you heard a knock at your door the next morning.

Dreading the worst – despite the fact that Snow had never actually been in your room before, but the rules had changed now and you weren’t sure quite how much – you paused for a second to prepare yourself, praying that he wouldn’t be there, ready to put a stop to your plans before they’d even started.

You fell lucky. It was one of Snow’s footmen, George.

“Good morning, ma’am. I, um.” He swallowed, not meeting your eye. “I have a message from Master Snow. He’d like for you to meet him for breakfast in a half hour, if you will. He says you have something… quite important to discuss.”

Typical Snow. Never liked to get his hands dirty. Too proud to knock at your door himself.

You considered.

“George, could you please tell Coriolanus that if I’ve already eaten, and that I’ll come to him when I see fit. If he isn’t satisfied,” you added, for his sake, as you knew Snow wasn’t above killing the messenger, “Say I have an urgent matter to tend to, and I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”

You grew a lump in your throat from your refusal, fearing the consequences. But you’d set your plan into motion now and there was no going back. Once George had been sent on his way, you snuck down the stairs on the far end of the building and slipped out the door through the servants’ quarters, where you knew Snow wouldn’t see you leave. The one upside to the last few weeks was that you’d learned how to sneak around the manor unnoticed. You were certain there were at least three hallways he’d had never even set foot in.

You had Lucille call Henry – Snow’s driver – in advance so you could leave right away.

“Where are we going, ma’am?” He glanced at you over his shoulder as you slid into the black town car.

“Head into the city. I’ll explain on the way.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Henry took some convincing – and some light bribing – to finally cave and tell you what and where this gentleman’s club was. Of course, it was a risk, a roll of the dice to go there without concrete proof, but you knew Snow. You knew his little neuroses and hang-ups, and he was paranoid; in all senses, it would seem, except when it came to you. If he’d been frequenting this club for some time – some years, according to Henry – and trusted their discretion, then you highly doubted he’d play Russian roulette and pick somewhere else.

You were dropped off outside, and sent Henry to the tailor to pick up some of Snow’s things; an excuse for the outing, but a part of your plan too. He was hesitant to leave you alone in such a place, but you insisted you knew exactly how to handle yourself, and so he gave in.

You’d deliberately dressed down for what you were about to do, worn your old coat and let your hair down with a hood pulled over it. It being daytime, the place was closed for business, but you knocked on the front door expectantly.

You waited. Went over the plan, and knocked again.

This time, the door opened and a burly man now stood between you and the inside of the brothel. Your curiosity made peek over his shoulder before he cleared his throat.

“Can I help you, miss?”

“Yes. My name is Margaret, sir, I’m a maid at the, uh,” You dropped your voice to a low whisper, “Snow household. I have a message for the owner of this establishment, from my master. Is he here?”

The man cleared his throat and glanced around the nearly empty street, then beckoned you in quickly.

“Anything for Mr Snow, miss. Right this way.”

There was your proof.

The empty club was a classy one, you had to give Snow that. The bar caught your eye, silver panels lining the wall behind it in an otherwise jet-black glossy room, with dark red couches and shiny tables, booths, single chairs, a stage with shiny metal poles, and a few cordoned-off alcoves.

You took it all in, certain you’d be able to appreciate the aesthetics of it more if it wasn’t for the seething rage inside you. You were stopped at a closed door near the back, and the burly man knocked.

“Yeah.” Came a voice from inside.

“All yours. He’ll take care of you.” Your guide stepped away. You pushed at the door.

A dark-haired man sat facing a desk, poring over paperwork. He didn’t look up.

“If you’re here for a job, sweetie, it’s Tuesday after 11.”

This incensed you.

“I’m not here for work. This is official business. I was told you take care of… special clients.”

He spun around, frowning.

“I’m listening.”

“I have a message from President Snow. He has a series of requests to be carried out with no delay.”

“Ah, yes. Mr Snow. I see. And you are to him?” He prompted.

“Just a maid from the household. He sent me as a messenger.”

“Excellent. Well in that case, of course, miss. How can I be of service?”

You took a breath, hoping desperately that he didn’t see right through you.

“Firstly, the shoes your girl wore.”

“What would he like with them?” He asked.

“He’d like to keep them. He’s willing to pay, and he’s not up for a price negotiation. This should cover them.” You slipped a bill across the table, and he nodded. You learned long ago that money causes loose lips, and this man was no exception.

“Of course,” he obliged, “They’re in the lockers through that door there. I’ll bring them to you. We ordered them in specially for Veronica, he made a point for her to wear them on the first floor. Usually our girls get instructions to sneak through clients’ houses quietly, but we handle every request as thoroughly as possible.” He chuckled.

That fucker. He really had planned it all out to get in your head.

“Was there anything else I can do for you, miss?”

You swallowed thickly.

Here goes.  

“Yes, actually. As of today, he’ll no longer be needing your services, or her services. He’d like to terminate your contract, and he doesn’t wish to see her again. Ever.”

The owner blinked. His mouth moved, as if he was about to say something, but then it closed again.

“But, um,” he stammered, “It’s only been three weeks. Veronica is our best girl, and he’s her top client. She carried out his orders to the absolute best of her ability, I can assure you. Are you sure those were his words?”

You sighed.

“She’s getting off lucky with a dismissal. Take it as a warning, sir. President Snow doesn’t show mercy to thieves. If she shows her face again, I can guarantee you, he’ll have her head.”

His face turned plum-red with horror.

“She was… stealing?”

In a way, yes.

“She was caught by a maid last night.” You nodded, and the owner swallowed thickly.

“I – I understand, Miss. I am terribly sorry for this. I apologise that our services weren’t up to your master’s expectations, truly. Please, if there’s anything I can do- and I can assure you, I’ll be having some very stern words-”

You cut him off.

“There is one more thing, as a matter of fact."

"Anything." He pleaded.

"You can send word that… Veronica, is it? She’ll be paying him a visit this evening. But you are not, under any circumstances, to send her. Am I understood?”

He furrowed his brows, puzzled. But you stared back challengingly and held your ground.

A small, sheepish smile formed on his face.

“Much obliged. I can assure you your requests will be carried out with the utmost discretion.”

“Thank you.”

He brought you the heels in a shiny box, and you turned and left.

Henry was waiting outside, and you slid back into the car.

“Get what you needed, ma’am?”

“I certainly did.”

The drive home was your chance to pick up lunch, finetune your plan, and go through the suits you’d had Henry pick up from the tailor.

They looked impeccable – crisp and creaseless, the white shirts brighter than the stars, and the maroon red jackets and waistcoats deeper than blood itself. It was one of these jackets that you chose to take upstairs with you, leaving the rest to be taken up to Snow’s room later, hoping the missing item would go unnoticed.

You retraced your way up the winding stairs of the manor. Luckily, Lucille had informed you Snow had left not long after you that morning, and was expected to be gone until evening. Nonetheless, your paranoia made you glance left, right and left again before every turn. Finally, after an exhaustingly long morning, you were back in the safety of your own room.

But the work was far from finished. You ate quickly, then began getting ready for your discussion with Snow. He hadn’t sent for you again; he was too proud. You took pride in knowing he’d be positively seething at your turning him down that morning. You kept going, showering, teasing your hair, adding a little more makeup than usual – not excessive, but enough to make a difference – then finally wandered the room as you picked your wardrobe for later.

You lay out the heels – which were a little big on you, but would serve their purpose – as well as the jacket you’d stolen, taking the time to run your fingers over the smooth maroon velvet you’d felt only briefly before, when brushing against Snow at public events. You then dug through your underwear drawer, debating between a red lingerie set and a white. You picked the latter; the tones of red would blend in with the jacket and white made more of a statement.

Innocence. If only.

You checked the time. Three hours or so until Coriolanus would be expecting Veronica. You hoped that he would be back by then, and more so, that your performance with the brothel owner had been enough to hold him to his promise of sending word. But if you’d learnt anything from Snow, it was that fear commanded respect, and better yet, obedience. So your doubts were few and far between.

In all honesty, that’s what had drawn you to Snow in the first place. It wasn’t about money; your family had money, more than they knew what to do with. It was the power, the fear. Even the richest man in the world would crumble to the ground with a gun to his head. Power trumps wealth every time, and the enigmatic, newly elected President was by far the most powerful man in Panem.

It was its own kind of thrill, pursuing a man like that. The temptation to get him wrapped around your fingers, ravenous, hungry for power, hungry for him. It all blurred together at this point, the man was like a magnet. You wondered if this thirst for more, always more, was an affliction the two of you shared. Or perhaps, an affliction you’d developed a taste for because of him. And the longer you spent at his side, the louder it began to beat in your chest like a second heart. You wanted to consume it, and let it consume you.

It thrummed in your chest now, adrenaline coursing in your veins. You fidgeted as you waited for the hours to pass, your craving growing with each second. You flicked through a few books; you drafted a letter to your mother. Each tick of the clock bringing you closer to finally taking the one thing you’d wanted since the day you met Coriolanus Snow. It was almost time for your big move.

✩✩✩✩

As enough darkness crept into your room and you stood to light some candles, you heard soft footsteps pass your door.

For a change, you recognised them as Snow’s, even and deliberate. He was home. With half an hour to spare until he’d be expecting his whore.

You jumped at the opportunity to change. Slowly and carefully, you slipped out of your clothes and into the underwear set, until you were clad in crisp white lace, with a matching garter belt as a finishing touch. You slid on Snow’s jacket – which smelled like him, of his cologne – the usual fitted shape it would give Snow now hanging loose and slack around your body, falling to the tops of your thighs. You did up the first button, tracing the neckline that plunged down your chest, leaving very little to the imagination. You slipped into the heels, checked the time, and after scanning yourself over in the mirror, made for the door.

The few worries you had about being seen by the staff were short-lived; the hallway lights were dim as you wobbled in the heels, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. You weren’t sure if Snow had fallen for your plan, but what mattered was that as you turned the corner, there were lights shining from under his bedroom door. He was in there, waiting. By now, it was odd seeing it closed. You tried your best to emulate the sound of the footsteps you’d drilled into your brain, the clicks giving you a sense of power knowing Snow – apprehensive or not – would be in for at least one surprise.

Click. Click. Click.

You considered pausing before barging in, but you didn’t. When you reached the end of the hallway, seconds away from your fate, you reached out a hand, pushed Snow’s door open, and walked right inside.

Snow was there; of course he was. Facing his dresser and away from you, he didn’t flinch at the sound of your arrival. You closed the door behind you, and took a step towards him. Stared at his back, scanning his black dress pants and the white shirt he’d rolled up to his elbows, cufflinks on the table, blonde curls a little unruly as he smoothly poured himself a drink.

This, right here, was where the solid part of your plan ended. It was caution to the wind from here on out, and you could practically taste it, high off the adrenaline; off his presence. And he hadn’t even looked at you yet.

This was the moment of truth.

“Well,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “Look who finally figured it out.”

“Not who you were expecting?”

“She’d never reschedule.” he said simply, turning on his heels, eyes glinting at you. “Figured you were up to something. Drink?”

“Think I’ll pass.”

He approached you, eyes scanning your body, deliberately clad in the skimpiest underwear you owned. You figured this was as good a time as any to unbutton the jacket and let it fall open. It brushed your sides, and you watched him lower his glance, hungrily taking you in for what could quite possibly be the very first time. He wet his lips, took another sip.

There it is.

There was that power you craved, that look that you’d been aching to see in his eyes while he stared at you, and although it was fucked up, you let the pride fill your head with confidence, and stepped forward.

“Now, just where did you get that?” A slight narrowing of his eyes gave him away. At least something you’d done had made an impression.

“Borrowed it. In case I get cold.” You smiled.

“Cute. Didn’t your daddy ever tell you not to take things that aren’t yours?”

“Oh, I take whatever I want, Snow.”

You raised your head in defiance. Proud of your voice for not faltering once.

“Clearly. Nice shoes. Borrow those, too?”

“Why, do they look familiar?” you quipped.

“I think we both know the answer to that, doll. Now why don’t you tell me why you’re here?”

You sighed, feigning exasperation. A chill crept up your legs but you barely noticed.

“You wanted to talk to me, Coriolanus. Talk.”

“Is that really what you came here for, sweetheart? Dressed like that?” He put his drink down on the dresser, not once looking away from you.

“If this is what it takes to get your attention, Snow, then yes.”

You took another step closer, and the jacket fell further to your sides, more skin slipping out from underneath for him to feast his eyes on.

“I think you know plenty about trying to get my attention. I watched you struggle for weeks.”

“Didn’t think you cared.” You muttered.

He laughed, low, more like a scoff.

“What, your childish attempts at seduction? They were pitiful at best. I’d expect that kind of behaviour from a common whore, not a lady of your standing.”

“Thought you liked whores.” You retorted.

“They’re no fun to live with. And there you were, proving my point.”

Your eyes narrowed, and when you spoke, it was through gritted teeth.

“So what, you had to go and fuck one to prove a point? Mature.”

“Mature?” he glowered, then before you could think, he stormed towards you, grabbing both of your wrists with a hard squeeze. You gasped.

“Mature like you, with your short skirts and your fuck-me eyes, sucking your fingers off at the breakfast table?”

You squirmed. Tried to jolt yourself away but it was no use.

“I didn’t think you-”

“Oh, I noticed.” He said, moving in to corner you, grip tightening until he was walking you backwards across the room as he spoke, never once taking his eyes off you. “And it’s a real shame this couldn’t have been easier for us both, but you just had to start it. So I watched your pathetic little displays, day after day, knowing if you’d behaved better, I would’ve given you exactly what you wanted.”

You fought not to trip over yourself until your legs bumped against the ottoman at the foot of his bed and you caught your breath. His eyes bored into yours and you blinked helplessly. His grip loosened on your wrists. You tried to speak, but your mouth had gone dry.

“If you’d been good,” he continued, voice lowering, “you wouldn’t have played around like that. Good girls don’t whore themselves out to respectable men.”

Your eyes narrowed in defiance as you felt heat start to brew in your stomach.

“Respectable?” You spat, and his grip tightened again, bringing one hand up to trace your jaw, almost pitifully.

“See what I mean? You dig yourself deeper at every turn. Good girls ask nicely, and say please. It didn’t take me long to figure out you had issues with authority. It could’ve been so easy for you, sweetheart. You had plenty of chances. You could’ve asked me very nicely to fuck you, but instead you behaved like a desperate slut for weeks on end. Eventually, I knew there was only one way to shut you up.”

Your ears started to ring and you fought harder to gain composure. He’d never talked to you like this before. And now, all this, all at once, it was almost too much. Goosebumps had long covered your arms and legs, despite the heat inside you burning you up. You were vaguely aware of heat pooling uncomfortably between your legs.

Your breathing was heavy as you stared into him, his hand gripping your chin, and you couldn’t hide it if you tried. He finally backed away, letting you peel yourself from the ottoman. His hungry eyes scanned over you, suit jacket now crumpled at the wrists. You swallowed as you tried to pull yourself together.

“You knew I was watching you. The whole time. Every time. It was… for me.”

He watched you knowingly, raised his eyebrows a little. His lips grew into that smirk, that fucking smirk you knew all too well.

“We were playing the same game, sweetheart. I was just… Better.”

“A little excessive, don’t you think?” Your voice faltered and you cursed how breathy it sounded.

“Oh, on the contrary. It was very entertaining to see you struggle, but I could’ve gone further.” He mused. “I even considered fucking her on your bed.”

Shit.

A thought popped into your head, and a strange smile made its way to your face.

“Aren’t you going to ask me where I got these?” You asked, glancing down.

He frowned for a second; good. You’d thrown him off guard. But he caught up fast.

“The heels? You know, I had her walk right past your door in those so you’d follow her and see just what you were missing?”

If you weren’t so wired with adrenaline, you were pretty sure you’d be tearing up with how desperate you felt. But his words channelled it all into pure anger.

“Fuck you.” You seethed, and he smiled.

“We'll get to that. But go on, I’ll bite. What did you do to her?”

“Let’s just say she deserved much worse than what she got. Maybe you should’ve fucked her on my bed. Would’ve given me a reason to choke the life out of her.”

“You think I’d care?”

“Course not. Knowing you, it’d probably get you off.”

“Which brings us right back to now.” He stared at you, challenging. You laughed again.

“Is this you talking? You’re not very good at it.”

“No, this is me giving you a second chance. The way I see it, you made your move, I made mine. Now, if you’re a good girl, and ask me very nicely to fuck you until that pretty little head of yours gets filled with nothing but empty space, I might consider putting an end to this and giving you what you want. Maybe.” If you thought you’d survive smacking that smug look off his face, you would.

“You want me to ask nicely, Coriolanus?” You closed the gap between the two of you and glanced up at him through your lashes. He looked back at you, and no chill in the world could cool you down from the fire in his eyes.

He stepped away, paced towards the desk chair – the one he’d watched you from last night – then dragged it across the floor, spun it around, and took a seat. Once again, last night felt worlds away now. A lifetime sat between that moment and this one as he made himself comfortable, unbuttoned his collar. As if the room was now a stage, and he was the sole spectator.

“Go on. I’m waiting.”

Cocky bastard.

Another airy laugh escaped you. But you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t exactly where you wanted him. So you played into it.

“You want me to beg you? Say pretty please?” Your voice softened as you slowly stepped towards him, holding his gaze. A passing thought reminded you of your childhood, asking your mother what you’d feel when you first truly fell for someone.

Fireworks. Thousands of them, crackling, hissing, charging the air between the two of you into something heavy. Thick clouds of smoke you could almost taste as you stared into darkened eyes. You paused in front of him, fingers playing with the hem of his suit jacket that brushed against your thighs. Caught your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Take it off.” He ordered.

“Gladly.”

You slipped the jacket off your shoulders, and it fell smoothly into a pile on the floor. You kicked off the heels next, landing haphazardly to the side with a thump. His eyes never leaving you, consuming you.

“Like what you see, Snow?”

He took you in, long and hungry and shameless. Like you were simply there for his entertainment, nothing else. You wondered where along the line he’d lost all his inhibitions, at what moment in his very young life he’d decided to simply stop caring. It should scare you, but it just made you burn warmer. Maybe your wires were a little crossed, too, because it didn’t make you feel cheap.

It made you feel powerful.

You knew you looked good, too; you’d made sure of it. But he was looking at you like you were carved out of solid gold. He didn’t answer, because he didn’t need to.

“Think I like you better when you’re not acting like a dumb slut.”

You hummed, determined and unphased, moving in closer until your legs touched his knees. His words shouldn’t turn you on - nor should not knowing exactly how much he meant them – but they did.

“You like me better when I’m begging, then?” You placed your legs either side of his, straddling him, but still standing, and took his hands in yours. You ran one of them across your lips, brazenly taking a digit in your mouth, releasing it with a wet pop, then dropping your head down.

“You want me to be straightforward, Snow? Tell you exactly what I want?” you breathed, your foreheads almost touching, looking down at him from a thrilling vantage point, your hair falling either side of his face. “To beg you to rip this off me?” You guided his hands to your hips, letting them slide over the lacy fabric. “You want me to beg you to kiss every inch of skin you see and make it yours? Beg you to fuck me until I can’t think, and forget my own name?”

You ran his hands down the sides of your legs, then, inch by inch, letting him take a good long look on the way, you finally lowered yourself onto his lap. Your blown-out eyes met again, at the same level this time. You shifted your hips once, feigning getting comfortable, and hid a smile as he let out a strained sound.

You were close enough to feel his breath against yours, fast but steady, controlled. You moved closer, your head dipping cautiously under his chin to kiss his neck. He smelt clean, like fresh laundry and his cologne, and his skin tasted like salt as your tongue traced a line across it. It felt like power, having him like this. Slowly starting to grind your hips as your mouth pressed against his pulse, every shaky breath you elicited from him awakening something new in you.

“Say it, Snow.” You murmured, breath catching. “Tell me you want me to beg you, and be good for you.” Another trail of messy kisses across his jaw, and you finally heard it, ragged and coarse, words shooting through you like knives softened by the heat of his breath on your hair.

“Be a good girl, and fucking beg me.”

You hummed with satisfaction. Moved your lips to his ear, hand cupping the back of his neck, and leaned in close.

“If you wanted me to be good,” you whispered, “then you’ve picked the wrong girl.”

You felt it, his whole body tensing beneath you. But you had it now, the upper hand, and you weren’t giving it away. Your other hand came up to close over his mouth with a warning shake of the head, and you gripped the back of his neck harder with the first. Craned it backwards so he could look at you, a different kind of fire in his eyes. A fire that could burn you far worse than any other. You leaned your weight into him until you were flush, skin pressing into fabric. Tightening your legs around his so he couldn’t kick out. You felt dangerous. You felt alive.

When you spoke, your voice was a vial of vitriol.

“You thought I’d just give into you? Three weeks of torture and you call it even? No fucking way, Snow. You wanted to play? Let’s play.”

You were closer to him now than you’d ever been before, infinitely closer than when you’d held hands in front of an audience, or danced in the middle of a ballroom, or when he’d draw you in for a lingering kiss at the head of a busy table.

You were closer still because of the common denominator: you were alone, your bodies pressed together, soft and firm colliding. And your stomach ached with want, but your rage burned brighter.

When you were sure he wouldn’t move, you readjusted your position on his lap so you were sat on one thigh, your right knee pressed firmly against the chair between his legs. Slowly, you dragged your hips against it, firm muscle between your legs, shameless as you stared him down.

“I’d like to modify the terms of our agreement, as of tonight. Starting with this: I’ve made sure your little whore won’t come running back here. If I so much as hear a whisper of a rumor that you’re fucking someone else, I’m leaving. Don’t think I don’t know how to disappear. I can, and I will.”

He scowled at you, and you’d never felt power like the rush you got from seeing your hand clamped over his mouth. His own hands, now easily able to overpower you and push yours away, instead sat at your hips, digging in so hard you knew there’d be bruises for weeks. As you moved, he started to follow suit, rocking your hips on his thigh faster.

He’s allowing this.

The realisation made you pull your hand from his mouth, and yet he didn’t speak. There was a tightness in his jaw, locked down so hard it must’ve hurt as he watched you move, helped you move. It sent a shock through your core, and you ground down harder.

Who’s on top now?

This was getting to your head.

“President Snow,” you mocked. “What a title. Thinks he can take whatever’s in his sight. Thinks he has the right. Did you think I’d come crawling back to you?” Your voice lowered.

“Did you think I’d get on my knees, like she did?” You glanced down, running your now-free hand over the front of his pants, gentle at first, then pressing in firm, and he hissed.

“Did you really think, after all your little shows, that I’d just submit? Not a chance.” You spat, and his breath turned a little shaky as your hand slid up, then down.

As it evened out, and he reached for composure again, he pulled a countermove. Got in close, with words so sharp, they nearly cut through you.

“Which one was your favorite?”

You pulled your hand away. Your hold on the back of his neck tightened, and in turn, so did his grip on your hips, pulling you down harder as you got closer, panties bunching up as you became desperate.

You shook your head.

“Don’t.”

He smirked.

“I gave you plenty to go off. Tell me, was it when I sat right here while she rode me? Or when I was fucking her mouth and calling your name?”

He pulled your hips in rougher, and you gasped, barely able to think. You were sure if he kept this up, your thighs would chafe. You just couldn’t find it in you to care.

“No, I don’t think so.” He hummed. “I know which one it was. It was the second time, wasn’t it? When I was making her cum all over my tongue, wondering what you tasted like.”

You couldn’t help it – a moan slipped out of your lips. He kept up the pace, rolling your hips faster, flexing his thigh as you started losing your bearings. He laughed at the state of you.

“I knew that one would get to you. Tell me something, princess, how many times did you touch yourself after that night wishing it was me? Or did you lose count?”

You gritted your teeth, fighting the spinning room.

“Cocky much?”

He let out a breathy laugh again, as if he was losing himself as much as you were. Pulling you in harder in response.

“Look at you,” he mused, “riding my thigh like the needy slut you are. Bet you’re close, too, and I haven’t even touched you yet.”

“Fuck.” you panted. “Stop fucking talking, oh my god.”

“You sure about that, sweetheart? You know I can feel how wet it’s making you, right?”

Your head dropped down and you whined. Sure enough, you’d soaked through your panties and dripped an embarrassing wet patch on his dress pants. You cursed under your breath as you slowed down.

“Beg me.” He ordered.

“No.” You gasped as he pulled you back again, faster, hips bucking as your legs started to shake around his.

“Beg me,” he repeated, "or I’ll stop.”

“Fuck, no, don’t fucking stop, I can’t-”

It was so much friction it hurt, but you kept chasing it.

“Yes, you can. You want to cum? Ask nicely, sweetheart. Just ask me.”

The seam of your panties got wetter as you moved, just enough to let the pain melt into pleasure instead as it caught on your clit, and you started to ride out your high. You were right at the edge, he was keeping you there, hair stuck to your face in a hot sweat as you writhed on his lap. So fucking close.

“Fine, shit. Please. Please help me cum, oh my god. Right there, please. Fuck.”

And maybe you were more like him than you thought, because you weren’t ashamed. You rode his thigh like you’d ride him, unabashedly, while he watched you starting to fall apart. He moved faster, pulled your hips hard in as if you were riding him, as if he could feel it, breath running ragged, desperate. It only brought you closer knowing this would be sending him over the edge, holding you so near and yet so awfully far away. The look in his eyes screaming danger, and you let it swallow you whole, squeezing his shoulders like you were scared you’d float away.

"That's it. Knew you'd sound incredible, asking me all pretty like that."

His lips met your neck, teeth grazing your skin and that’s what did it, your legs squeezing his as you shook through your orgasm, crying out, falling to pieces, hearing going fuzzy. The words good girl echoing through your head so distantly, you couldn’t tell if he’d really said them or not.

You sighed, glazed eyes rolling open, coming back to yourself. Your right hand was pressed against his chest, fingers curled into the creased fabric of his shirt. As you looked closer, you noticed it had opened wider, and he was missing a button. Had you done that?

When your eyes finally met Snow’s, you couldn’t look away from them. Beautiful and blue, like an ocean frozen over, staring into yours like you were all he’d ever wanted. You could get high off this feeling, live off it.

“Get on the bed.” He breathed. “Right fucking now.”

But too much of any feeling isn’t good for you.

“No.”

He glowered, face flushing even further, and as he leaned in to make another demand, you quickly stood, trying your hardest not to let your wobbling legs give you away.

“You should understand, Snow. We’re doing things my way now. And I’m going to be doing them as I please, when I please.”

You picked his jacket up from the floor, and slipped back into it, the soft fabric cooling down your burning skin.

“You think you’re funny, sweetheart? Nobody likes a fucking tease.”

You chuckled, doing up a button and brushing your hair out of your face, damp with sweat. You walked to the dresser and took a swig from Snow’s half-empty glass, then turned. He sat there, and it took everything in you not to smirk at the mess you’d made of him. You handed him the glass when you were done drinking and turned away. You felt him stand, but you didn’t acknowledge it, still fiddling with your hair, smoothing it out.

“You said it yourself, Snow. I’m no common whore. If you want me to beg you to fuck me, you’re gonna have to work for it.” You turned, pulling him in for a chaste kiss. His face was unreadable.

“But be a doll, leave your door unlocked.” You added, stepping back. “You never know when I might change my mind.”

“You’re not going to leave. You wouldn’t dare.” He seethed, the rage in his voice only propelling you on.

“Wouldn’t I?” You smiled, giving him a once over. Dropped your eyes down pointedly, first at the ruined leg you’d ridden, then at the uncomfortable-looking tent in his pants. You met his eye again and bit your lip, really laying it on thick. “Good luck with that, sweetheart. I’ll see you at breakfast.”

He huffed, incredulous, disbelief painted across his face as you made for the door, swinging it open. You glanced over your shoulder.

“Buckle up, Snow. I’m just getting started.”

You missed the way his shocked face turned almost admiring as he watched you leave, walking barefoot down the hallway, leaving the door wide open.

Checkmate.

a/n: hope it was worth the wait 😌

taglist: @superchatnoir07 @itsrainingreid @nycweb-slinger @lookclosernow @etfrin @resibunn @serving-targaryen-realness @harmfulb1tch @demonsnangels @superb-icarus @julesandro @gracieroxzy @slyhersophia @shadowsepiphany @ben-has-arrived @unclecrunkle @zerotwo-sciencequeen @itsleniiilosers @thesiriusmap @ooooglymoooogly @darkqweenn @going-through-shit @loverw1tch @stinkii-boii @tqmqkii @not-avery @natsgf @sleepysongbirdsings @hopebaker @darknight3904 @pemberlystateofmind @bxtchopolis @real-lana-del-rey @24kmar @louweasleymalfoy @m1ndbrand @coconut-dreamz @cosmicgyral @urfavevirgoo @mk15x @theamuz @ashy-kit @violante777 @snowlandstop @badbleep88 (more tags in the comments!)

[yeostinys]

My Dear Darling

Chapter 5

Pairing: Frat OT8!ATEEZ x Female Reader

Genre: Smut 18+, Fluff, Angst, Polyamorous Relationship!

Notes: NonIdol!AU, CollegeAU. Explicit language. Polyamorous Relationship, (if you are not into that just pls ignore)

Word Count: 8k

Synopsis: someone finds out about your relationship with ATZ. And the boys made an agreement amongst themselves?

Previous >>> Next Chapter

_____________________________________

The evening sun poured through the large window of your studio apartment, casting a warm golden glow that danced across the room. You sat on your soft, plush couch, surrounded by a chaotic array of notebooks, crumpled papers, and the persistent hum of your laptop. With a weary sigh, you leaned back, your shoulders heavy with the weight of the past five hours spent wrestling with a report for your internship.

You had always been the type to overwork, driven by an insatiable desire to excel in everything you undertook. Balancing school, work, and your social life had never been a challenge for you—until now. A sense of dread settled in your chest as you approached the report’s conclusion. You longed for relaxation, for a moment to breathe, to escape the demands of your responsibilities. Above all, you yearned to see your boyfriends, their laughter and warmth a distant echo in your mind.

But they were busy too, their own schedules packed with classes and commitments. You admired their relentless dedication to their studies, how they managed to immerse themselves in their work while still carving out time to enjoy life’s fleeting moments. As you thought of them, a swirl of emotions tugged at your heart—admiration mixed with a pang of guilt. You realized you hadn’t spent any real time alone with some of the ATZ boys lately, and the thought nagged at you.

Determined to push through, you glanced at your report, the words blurring together. Each sentence felt like a barrier between you and the fun, light-hearted evenings you craved. The idea of wrapping up your work propelled you forward. You could almost envision the laughter, the playful teasing, the joy of being with them. With renewed focus, you typed furiously, your fingers flying across the keyboard as you worked to complete the report, each keystroke a step closer to the moment you could finally leave the stress behind and reconnect with the people who made your heart race.

*Buzz*

The sound of the doorbell buzzed through the apartment, pulling you from your focus. You looked up from your laptop, curiosity igniting as you turned toward the door. Setting your device aside, you sprang from the couch, excitement thrumming in your chest.

Approaching the door, you peered through the peephole and felt a wide grin spread across your face. There was Jia, her eyes sparkling with mischief, balancing two cups of soda and a large takeout bag in her hands. Without a second thought, you swung the door open, unable to contain your joy.

“Jia!? What is this!?” you exclaimed, a delighted shriek escaping your lips as you pulled her inside, enveloping her in a warm hug.

“Aren’t I the bestest friend ever?” Jia struck a playful pose, her eyes dancing with energy as she handed you one of the drinks. You couldn’t help but giggle at her antics.

Together, you made your way to the kitchen island, sliding onto the barstools with a sense of camaraderie. The familiar sounds of wrappers crinkling and soda fizzing filled the air as you began to feast on the fast food spread before you.

“Okay, to be completely honest…” Jia turned toward you, a fry poised between her fingers, her expression suddenly serious yet playful. You leaned in closer,

“This is in celebration of me. I couldn’t tell you through text…” She paused, her grin widening as if about to share a great secret. You raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of your soda, anticipation building.

“Okay…? What is it?” you prompted, eager for the scoop.

“Wonho and I… ARE OFFICIALLY DATING!” Jia shrieked, her voice ringing with glee. She playfully grabbed your legs, shaking them in excitement. Your eyes widened in surprise, a radiant smile breaking across your face.

“Shut up!?” you gasped, covering your mouth in disbelief. “YES!”

Jia burst into laughter, her joy infectious as she jumped in her seat, the sheer happiness radiating off her.

“Holy shit, finally! I’m so happy for you!” You beamed at her, your heart swelling with joy. “After who knows how long of you two messing around with each other, you finally made it official.” You stuffed a fry into your mouth, savoring the moment.

“Ugh, I know,” Jia sighed, her eyes dreamy. “Honestly, it was my fault. I was crazy scared of commitment. But something about Wonho changed me.” She giggled, a soft smile playing on her lips as she lost herself in thought.

You watched her, a fondness growing in your chest. “I’m happy for you Jia” you said with sincerity.

In that moment, your phone buzzed, interrupting the laughter between you two with the sudden notification. You glanced down, your heart skipping a beat as you saw a message from the group chat with ATZ.

Hongjoong: We are watching a movie tonight. Want to come over?

Yuyu: I’ll pick you up if you want, Y/N.

Mingi: Please come, we are watching a scary movie. I need you to hold me!

A warm smile crept across your face, and you quickly typed a response, excitement bubbling inside you.

Y/N: Jia’s over right now. I’ll try to come by later.

You looked up just in time to catch Jia eyeing you, her brow raised in curiosity as she took a sip of her fizzy soda. She leaned forward slightly, trying to peek at your screen, but you swiftly closed your phone, feigning innocence.

“Who’s got you smiling like an idiot?” she teased, squinting her eyes with playful suspicion.

“What? No one…” you replied, hastily shoving a fry into your mouth as a distraction.

“Nice try, Y/N. You’re hiding something,” Jia declared, her playful glare intensifying.

“I know when you’re lying. Who’s got your attention?” She reached for your phone, but you instinctively snatched it away, your heart racing.

“You are hiding something!” Jia exclaimed, her tone half-joking, half-serious. Without missing a beat, she jumped to conclusions. “Oh my god, is it Wooyoung?!”

You froze, stunned into silence.

“IT IS! I remember, I literally saw you two grinding on each other at the party!” Jia grabbed your shoulders, shaking you in excitement. You scrunched your face in defeat, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

“Or is it Yunho? I remember you had a crush on him a few summers ago, and you two have been talking a lot again,” Jia continued, her excitement bubbling over as she pulled back, tapping her chin in thought.

“Jia, please!” you exclaimed, pinching the bridge of your nose in exasperation, though amusement danced in your eyes. You couldn’t help but laugh at her ability to connect the dots, despite her notoriously short attention span.

“Okay, okay… I’m sorry,” she said softly, pressing her lips together as she stared at you expectantly.

You bit your lip, contemplating how much to reveal. “We’ve just gotten really close, that’s all,” you finally said, taking a sip of your soda to buy time.

“We?” Jia’s eyebrow shot up. “Who’s ‘we’?” She leaned against the counter, clearly intrigued.

“All of ATZ…” you mumbled, unable to meet her gaze.

“All of ATZ?!” Jia’s voice rose an octave as she covered her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. “Wait… is that why you’ve been hanging out with them so much?”

You nodded, trying to suppress the nervousness bubbling in your stomach.

“I’m confused, though. Why so suddenly?” Jia pressed, her brow furrowing in genuine concern.

“Uh… I’ve just recently become their Fraternity sweetheart…” you confessed hesitantly.

“Really?” Jia sounded unconvinced, her eyebrow arched.

“Yes,” you insisted, trying to sound confident despite your nerves.

“Y/N, ATZ never had sweethearts before! And you’ve been asked by so many other frats to be their sweetheart but always declined—until now. So what’s really going on?” Jia’s tone turned serious, her concern palpable. You sighed deeply, feeling the weight of her scrutiny.

“Jia…” you began, meeting her gaze. She could see the distress in your eyes. “I need you to keep an open mind about this, and… promise me it stays between us.”

Jia nodded, her expression earnest as she took your hands in hers. “Yes, of course.”

“I’m… dating…” you paused, heart racing. Jia’s eyes widened, and she gasped dramatically.

“SAN?!” she shouted, her voice nearly shrill. “I THOUGHT YOU HATED HIM?!”

“Jia! Let me explain!!!” You threw your head back in frustration, feeling the rush of emotions bubble over.

“Okay, okay… I’m sorry,” Jia said, her voice softening as she pressed her lips into a thin line.

“I’m dating… all of them,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jia’s eyes widened further in disbelief. “You’re messing with me,” she said, laughing nervously.

“I’m not, I’m serious…” you replied, looking down, unable to meet her incredulous gaze.

“Since when?” she asked, her tone shifting to calm curiosity.

“We’ve only been dating for a few weeks. They all confessed their feelings and wanted a polyamorous relationship. I was just as shocked as you are. I didn’t think I’d ever be in a relationship like this, but I really do like all of them…” Your voice trembled as you spoke, fear of judgment gripping you. Jia blinked in surprise, then broke into a chuckle.

“Wow… eight boyfriends. How fucken lucky are you”

Relief washed over you, and you leaned in for a hug, closing your eyes as you let out a sigh. “Oh my god, I thought you were going to judge me and dump me as a friend.”

“Me? Oh, Y/N-ie. You’re my best friend, and I support you in anything and everything you want to do.” She pulled back, smiling warmly. “Your secret relationship with them is safe with me.”

Holding out her pinky, Jia grinned. You chuckled at her gesture and interlocked your fingers.

“Thank you, Jia…” you said, feeling a wave of gratitude.

“So, I’m going to need all the details on this. Because damn, ALL OF THEM WANT YOU?!” she exclaimed, her witty self returning. “That’s actually so crazy because now that I think about it, you have liked almost all of them at least once!”

You laughed, the tension from earlier dissipating as you launched into a detailed account of how your relationship with ATZ began. The two of you migrated to the couch, popping a bottle of wine and filling your glasses with the rich red liquid, as you sipped and shared everything—their dynamic, your feelings, the whirlwind of emotions that had led you to this point. You appreciated how open-minded Jia was, her laughter ringing true without a hint of judgment.

“Wait, Y/N, I just realized,” she interjected, holding up a hand to pause your story. “I thought you and San had beef since high school?”

You bit your lip, the memories flooding back.

“It’s complicated… I was confused too when I found out he liked me.” You took a sip of wine, gathering your thoughts. “I can’t deny I’ve always had feelings for him. There’s obviously something unresolved between us, but he cares for me—I can see it when we’re together. He’s just so confusing.”

Jia raised an eyebrow, sipping her wine thoughtfully.

“Hmm, interesting.” She glanced at her phone, a smile breaking across her face. “Oh! Wonho’s off work!”

Jia set her glass down, bouncing with excitement. “I’m going to head out.”

You stood up with her, laughter bubbling between you as you walked to the door. She turned to face you one last time.

“My Y/N~ thank you for opening up to me about this. Everything is safe with me. I’m so happy for you. But if any one of them hurts you, I will kill them,” she said, her eyes serious as she held your shoulders.

You nodded, laughing at her fierce loyalty. “Thank you, Jia.”

“Bye now! Love ya!” she called as she stepped out, waving enthusiastically.

“Love ya!” you shouted back, chuckling as you closed the door behind her.

———

After bidding Jia farewell, you turn and stroll back to the couch, the soft fabric welcoming you as you reach for your phone. Your fingers tap the screen as you open the group chat with ATZ, a familiar wave of excitement washing over you. You quickly type a message, letting them know you're on your way, then glance at your reflection in the nearby mirror. A few swift touches—smooth hair, a quick spritz of your favorite fragrance—make you feel a little more put together. Slipping into your shoes, you feel a tingle of anticipation, ready to step out into the evening.

Just as you’re about to grab your bag, your phone rings, the sound slicing through the air. You glance down to see San’s name flashing on the screen. Your heart skips a beat, and you can’t help but smile as you press the green button to answer.

“Hi, San,” you say softly, trying to keep your voice steady.

“I’m almost at your place. Just wait for me. I’ll come get you,” he replies, his tone calm and reassuring.

“You didn’t have to—” you start, but he cuts you off.

“I was at the convenience store near your apartment getting snacks when you texted. It’s no big deal,” he explains, the warmth in his voice easing your initial surprise.

“Okay…” you say, feeling a mix of gratitude and a hint of annoyance that you didn’t get to argue your point.

“I’ll let you know when I’m here,” he adds, and before you can respond, the line goes dead.

Settling back onto the couch, you keep your phone close, glancing at it occasionally as the minutes tick by. Time seems to stretch, the anticipation building until you hear a firm knock on your door. You leap up from the soft cushions, your heart racing as you rush to the door. Peering through the peephole, you catch sight of San, you quickly open the door.

“San, you didn’t have to walk all the way up here. I could’ve just met you down in the lobby,” you say sheepishly.

“It’s alright. Let’s go,” he replies with a smirk, playfully ruffling your hair. The gesture sends a flush of warmth to your cheeks, and you can’t help but smile back.

As he turns to walk away, you follow behind him, still nervous as ever.

———

The walk to the ATZ house was enveloped in a serene quietness, the kind that felt both comfortable and charged with unspoken words. The air was thick with familiarity, as if the very atmosphere had normal between you and San. He strode slightly ahead of you with a long, effortless gait, his tall figure casting a protective shadow over your smaller frame. San’s hand slipped into the pocket of his jeans, while the other grasped a crinkled black plastic bag filled to the brim with an array of snacks and drinks. His focus was fixed on the path ahead, but you found yourself stealing glances at him, lost in admiration—his strong jawline accentuated by the late afternoon sun, his perfect nose. Just as you began to lose yourself in those thoughts, his voice cut through the silence.

“Is there something on my face?” he asked nonchalantly, an eyebrow quirking up as his eyes flicked toward you. Your heart raced, and you felt your cheeks warm as you diverted your gaze forward. San chuckled lightly, and you both continued your walk.

With your eyes cast forward, you recalled your earlier conversation with Jia—a conversation that now felt like it held the weight of the world. She now knows your relationship dynamic with ATZ. You should have talked to the boys first, but Jia was your best friend, and the pressure to keep such a vital piece of information under wraps had been intense. The thoughts loomed over you as you continued walking in silence.

Suddenly, the tranquility of the moment shattered as you felt a sharp tug on your arm. Before you could comprehend what was happening, you found yourself enveloped in San’s arms. Your heart pounded as you looked up, only to see a biker whizzing past, careening dangerously close to you.

“What an asshole,” San muttered, his face darkening with concern as he glared at the cyclist. The unexpected warmth of his embrace took you by surprise, and for a moment, you were frozen in place.

“Are you okay?” San asked, his voice dropping to a serious tone as he looked down at you, instinctively releasing his hold. Nodding in response, you remained silent, feeling the lingering effects of his touch.

“Did you not hear the biker ringing his bell? You looked so lost in thought; I had to pull you aside,” he noted, his gaze steady and penetrating, eyebrows raised in a gentle challenge.

“Sorry… I didn’t hear,” you murmured, guilt creeping into your tone.

“What’s on your mind, Y/N?” San inquired softly, his voice inviting you to share your burden. You felt caught in his gaze once more, the intensity of his attention forcing you to look away.

“Sannie…” The nickname slipped from your lips before you could stop yourself. It shocked you, yet it felt so natural—a small sweetness in the tension of the moment. San’s heart quickened at the sound, and he bit his lip, attempting to regain some semblance of composure.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked, his tone gentler now, reaching out to grasp your wrist, sending a rush of warmth through you. The endearment made you blush, and your eyes widened at the unexpected intimacy.

“I told Jia about our relationship,” you admitted softly, looking down to hide the uncertainty in your eyes. His expression shifted, surprise flitting across his face before he smiled, easing the knot of tension inside you.

“Is that it?” he lifted your chin, compelling you to look at him. You nodded, feeling small under the weight of his gaze. “I just couldn’t keep it from her any longer. She’s like my sister and deserved to know. I’m sorry…” you let the words tumble out, a sense of shame creeping into your voice.

“Why are you sorry?” San asked, his brow furrowed slightly with curiosity.

“I felt like I should’ve talked about it with you guys first before telling her. It’s your guys relationship too. But she swore not to tell anyone! Regardless, I’m sorry if I crossed the line,” you explained, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Y/N, it’s okay.” San chuckled, the sound warm and reassuring. “It’s just Jia. If you trust her, so do we. Plus, we told you before—whenever you're ready to let anyone know, we will be ready too.” He ruffled your hair playfully, and relief washed over you like a cool breeze on a scorching day.

“Okay…” you replied, staring at your feet for a moment before hesitantly meeting his gaze again. “Can you help me tell the others that I told Jia?” You clasped your hands together, looking at him with hopeful, doe-like eyes. He raised an eyebrow, wearing a bemused expression as he nodded.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” He resumed walking, and you hurried to keep pace at his side.

Your heart swelled with warmth at the softness of your interaction, something that felt rare and precious between the two of you. How unexpectedly sweet it had been. It was as if a curtain had lifted, revealing the deeper elements of your relationship—elements that were often obscured by playful teasing and banter.

Yet, beneath that sweetness lingered confusion. With the other members, interactions had flowed naturally and easily, but with San, everything felt more complex. He held an alluring mix of playful charm and guarded distance. You wanted to understand him better—the man who could swing between being aloof and tender. You recalled that lingering moment from that night not long ago when San had cried, clearly from being too drunk. His constant words of “hurting you” was a statement that lingered in your thoughts, especially when paired with the memory of his endearing, clingy demeanor due to too many drinks. A quiet giggle slipped from your lips as you remembered drunk San, and he turned to you, curiosity piqued.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, an eyebrow raising in question.

You couldn’t help but smile wider at his genuine interest. “Sannie, do you remember anything from the night of XIK’s party?” You tilted your head, batting your eyelashes innocently at him.

“Yeah, why?” he replied, sounding a bit suspicious but intrigued.

“Well, do you remember anything from when we got home?” Your words danced in the air, teasing him playfully.

“Just tell me, Y/N. I don’t want to play guessing games,” he insisted, crossing his arms and facing you.

“Hm, drunk San is much nicer to me,” you retorted, giving a light roll of your eyes as you looked away, feeling confident in your teasing.

San released his crossed arms, his exasperated sigh punctuating the air. “Just tell me what I did, please,” he pleaded.

“Nothing much, you were just super clingy and kept asking for me,” you teased, walking away from him. “And you were a cry baby” You laughed as you picked up pace, the small distance between you growing with your mischievous retreat.

San’s eyes widened in shock as he followed behind you. “I what?” he called out, a mix of disbelief and genuine curiosity in his voice.

Just as you approached the front door of the ATZ house, you could hardly contain your laughter as you felt the exhilaration of the moment. Before you could even reach for the door handle, San gripped your wrist and pulled you back toward him, his eyes narrowing with playful intensity.

“What do you mean I was a cry baby?” he asked, his expression a mix of faux annoyance and genuine concern. You looked up, your heart thudding as you found yourself caught in the intimacy of his gaze.

Flustered, you glanced away. “You tripped over yourself, causing both of us to bump into the wall. Well, mostly me, since I hit my head,” you recounted, your tone casual. “Then you started crying when you saw I was hurt, and you kept saying, ‘Why do I keep hurting you?’” You looked at him with your eyebrows raised in amusement.

San’s face shifted from incredulity to a flustered blush, the color flooding to his cheeks. He dropped your wrist, his shoulders tense as he turned away quickly, clearing his throat. The playful banter you had expected dimmed into a sudden seriousness, and confusion washed over you.

“What?” You nervously chuckled. You had expected laughter, maybe even some playful rebuttal, but instead, his sudden shift to seriousness left you frowning.

“It’s nothing” His lips tightened, and without another word, he hastily opened the front door and stepped inside, leaving you standing there, bewildered. You followed him into the house, feeling a sense of confusion from him like always.

———

Following closely behind San, you step into the dimly lit living room, where the flickering glow of the television casts elongated shadows across the walls. The boys are already engrossed in the horror movie, completely unaware of your presence.

In the corner of your eye, you spot Mingi, his form hunched over a pillow as he shields himself from the on-screen action. A smile spreads across your face, as you position yourself behind him. With a sudden burst of energy, you grab his shoulders and shout, “Boo!”

Mingi lets out a high-pitched scream that echoes through the room, nearly tumbling off the couch in his shock. Seonghwa and Wooyoung, caught off guard, join in with their own shrieks, creating a cacophony of startled yelps. Jongho and Yunho who were clearly unfazed, barely contain their laughter, while Hongjoong and Yeosang flinch, their faces a mix of surprise and confusion.

You can’t help but burst into laughter, the sound infectious as you reach out to Mingi, who is still wide-eyed, his face flushing with a mix of embarrassment and relief.

“Y/N!~” he whines, clutching his chest as if to calm his racing heart.

The rest of the boys are doubled over with laughter, their joy contagious. San rolls his eyes, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smile as he places the bags of snacks onto the coffee table.

“I’m sorry, Min! I didn’t think you’d actually get scared,” you manage between giggles, gently running your fingers through his hair, trying to soothe him.

“Well, hello to you too, baby,” Wooyoung says with an exaggerated drawl, clutching his chest as if your scare had truly wounded him. A playful giggle escapes your lips as you glide around to his sitting figure, his dramatic flair only adding to the moment’s hilarity.

“I’m so sorry, Woo,” you reply, laughter bubbling up again as you lean down and wrap your arms around his neck in a warm embrace. He responds instantly, his arms encircling your waist, pulling you closer as he snuggles his face into your chest. You can feel the warmth of his breath, and it makes your heart swell with affection.

Turning your attention, you notice Seonghwa watching you, a shy smile gracing his lips, his cheeks slightly flushed. “Did I scare you too, Hwa?” you ask, releasing Wooyoung’s hold and moving toward him. You can’t resist brushing your fingers through his hair, a gesture that always seems to ease any embarrassment he might feel.

“I was scared too,” Yunho pipes up, raising his hand as if he’s in a classroom, a teasing grin plastered across his face.

“Me too!” Yeosang chimes in, his big, doe-like eyes wide with mock innocence as he looks up at you, adding to the playful atmosphere.

You laugh at their playful banter, shaking your head in disbelief. “Alright, alright! I’m sorry for interrupting the movie,” you say, feigning seriousness as you gesture dramatically toward the screen. “Let’s get back to it!”

With a bright smile, you plop down between Mingi and Seonghwa, feeling the comfortable warmth of their presence. The room settles back into a cozy atmosphere, laughter still echoing softly as you all turn your attention to the flickering screen.

Your head nestled against Seonghwa’s shoulder, the warmth of his presence a steady comfort as you both sat engrossed in the flickering glow of the screen before you. The soft light illuminated your faces, casting gentle shadows that danced across the room. A cozy blanket was draped over your legs, its fabric soft against your skin, partially overlapping with Seonghwa’s and Mingi’s.

Seonghwa's arm hung casually around your shoulders, his presence a protective anchor that made you feel at ease. You could feel the gentle rise and fall of his breath, a rhythmic reassurance in the quiet space. Meanwhile, Mingi sat on the other side, his hand resting comfortably on your thigh.

As the movie droned on, the initial thrill began to fade, replaced by an almost comical absurdity that made the horror elements feel more ridiculous than terrifying. The once-terrifying scenes now elicited only faint chuckles and eye rolls from you. You felt your attention slipping away, a dull ache of boredom creeping in.

With a slight huff, you shifted your position on the couch, gently lifting your head from Seonghwa’s shoulder. The warmth that had enveloped you receded slightly, but Seonghwa’s arm stayed firmly around you, a comforting presence that anchored you even as you sought a better angle to see the screen. You leaned back, glancing at him with a soft smile, but his focus remained on the movie, his brow slightly furrowed as if trying to will the story to become engaging again.

Mingi, sensing your shift, let his hand slide higher on your thigh, a subtle gesture that sent a wave of warmth through you. The light touch was both casual and deliberate, igniting a spark of electricity in the air between you. You couldn’t help but steal a glance at him, his eyes still glued to the screen, yet there was an unmistakable teasing glint in them that made your heart race.

You gazed around the room, the flickering glow of the television illuminated the faces of the boys. Some of them were completely absorbed, their eyes glued to the unfolding drama, while others started scrolling through their phones, just as equally bored of the movie.

You try to bring your focus back onto the screen, but it was difficult with the feeling of Mingi’s fingertips sliding gently against the soft fabric of your tights, a feather-light touch that sent a shiver coursing through your body. Your heart raced, and your breath hitched as you sensed a shift in Mingi's intentions. His pinky finger—light and teasing—traced a line just below your hip, hovering between casualness and something far more intimate. The sensation of his touch resonated through you, igniting a warmth that crept up your spine and spread through your entire being.

Seonghwa glanced at you, his gaze sharp and teasing, as he caught the flustered expression on your face, cheeks painted a deep crimson. A playful smirk crept across his lips as he detected Mingi’s hand moving persistently beneath the soft fabric of the blanket. Seonghwa’s eyes followed the trajectory of Mingi’s fingers, and he couldn’t help but study the way your body responded, the gentle rise and fall of your chest betraying the electric sensations coursing through you.

A wave of envy washed over him—the way Mingi seemed to effortlessly elicit such reactions from you. Unable to resist the urge to convey his own affection, Seonghwa shifted closer, his hand brushing against your shoulder. He let his fingers gently knead the delicate muscles there. He leaned down, planting a soft kiss on your temple before allowing his hand to drift down to the nape of your neck. His fingertips began to massage you, sending unexpected shivers racing through your body like wildfire.

Mingi, ever perceptive, caught the way you instinctively reacted to his touch. He could feel the heat radiating from between your thighs, and a mischievous grin spread across his face. Suddenly, you let out a soft gasp—a sound that cut through the ambient noise of the television—as Mingi’s fingers brushed against you again, teasing and exploring the warmth hidden beneath the blanket.

Both men exchanged looks, their eyes locking for a moment, an unspoken understanding passing between them. They shared a smirk, one that held the promise of continued teasing, before their gazes dropped back to you.

Your face was a striking shade of red, as if you were caught in a sunset, and you bit your bottom lip in an attempt to focus on the screen, fighting against the distractions pulling you under. Mingi leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.

“You okay, baby?” he asked, his deep voice low and teasing. You nodded shyly, refusing to turn your head to meet his gaze, a gesture that only fueled the fire of their amusement.

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening as he observed your reaction.

“You sure, darling? You keep moving,” he teased, his voice vibrating through your core, making your blush deepen as you diverted your gaze down to your lap.

“Mm, I’m okay…” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, desperate to avoid drawing attention from the others in the room.

“Okay…” they both echoed back, their voices a perfect duet.

They admired your side profile, the curve of your jaw, the flutter of your eyelashes, and, without a second thought, they leaned in closer. Their lips brushed against your cheeks at the same time, a tender, simultaneous gesture that sent your heart racing. Your eyes widened in surprise, your breath hitching at the unexpected contact. Heat flooded your entire face.

Seonghwa pulled away slightly, his chuckle a low rumble that vibrated in the air, a sound that only made you flush more. Mingi, with a devilish glint in his eye, peppered a few more playful kisses along your cheek and down towards your neck, each one igniting your skin with warmth before he finally turned his head back towards the screen. Seonghwa followed suit, his gaze returning to the flickering images in front of you, but not before stealing another glance at you, admiration written across his features.

Without noticing, the film reached its conclusion. The screen faded to black before the end credits began to roll, accompanied by a sudden, loud exhale from Jongho. As he stood up from the couch, a sweeping wave of disappointment washed over him. “What a dumb ass movie,” he declared, flicking the light switch on and flooding the room with dim illumination.

“I agree,” chimed in Yunho, stretching his arms above his head, his voice resonating with an air of relaxed camaraderie. “It was good for the first thirty minutes, but then it just started getting weird.”

You shifted on the couch, pushing yourself upright as you cleared your throat, feeling a warm flush creeping up your cheeks, a remnant of Seonghwa and Mingi’s earlier teasing. Their playful banter had left you flustered and disoriented.

“You okay, Y/N?” Yeosang asked, concern etched in his features as he turned his gaze to you. Your eyes widened at his inquiry, and a nervous laugh slipped from your lips. “Oh, yeah! I’m okay,” you replied, forcing a smile, hoping to mask the storm of emotions swirling within.

“You sure, baby? Your face is all red,” Yeosang observed, leaning in closer to get a better look at you. The softness of his tone sent a delightful shiver down your spine.

“Ah, I’m just thirsty,” you stammered, grasping at the excuse like a lifeline, desperate to sidestep the palpable tension that had been lingering between Seonghwa and Mingi and you.

As if sensing your unease, Yeosang rose from the couch, adopting the grace of a gentleman. “Let’s go get you some water,” he suggested, extending his hand toward you. You felt your cheeks heat even more as you reached out, taking his hand. A soft thrill coursed through you as warmth enveloped your skin.

As you stood, you felt Seonghwa's and Mingi's hands brush against you, a reminder of their earlier closeness, but you stepped away, allowing Yeosang to guide you toward the kitchen. The cool tiles beneath your feet contrasted with the heat still lingering in the air.

———

Yeosang moved purposefully, grabbing a glass and filling it with water before handing it to you.

“Thanks, Yeo,” you murmured, taking a few sips, the cool liquid refreshing against your lips. After handing the glass back to him, Yeosang smiled, and without a moment's pause, he finished the remainder, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

Yeosang placed the empty glass on the counter behind you, ruffling your hair playfully as he moved closer. You suddenly found yourself against the sleek marble table, trapped in the warm orbit of his presence. “You still flustered from Mingi and Seonghwa kissing you?” he teased, his husky voice wrapping around you like an intoxicating melody. Your blush deepened, and you turned your head away, feeling exposed.

“You saw?” you asked softly, catching a glimpse of his playful yet serious expression.

“Oh baby, all of us saw,” Yeosang chuckled, tenderly pulling your chin back until your eyes met his. His hands slipped to your hips, thumbs drawing gentle circles on your skin. The intimate gesture ignited a flurry of butterflies in your stomach, and instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck, finding comfort in his embrace.

“You know, I’d never thought you’d be this much of a teaser,” you remarked, your fingers finding their way into his hair, playing absentmindedly. “You’re such a gentleman, yet you tease so much” you add with a giggle.

He lowered his head slightly, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he looked back up at you. “I’m only like this towards the people I really like.” The sincerity in his voice wrapped around your heart, and his hands traveled higher on your waist, his caresses sending electrifying tingles through you.

“So, are there other girls that get to see this side of you?” you pretended to pout, a playful challenge that earned a bright smile from him.

“No, no. You’re the only girl that gets to see this side of me. I was just talking about the guys… my family. I’m more comfortable with you all, and I can be myself,” Yeosang continued, his gaze scanning your face before lingering on your soft lips.

“I’m glad I can be one of those people, then,” you whispered softly, feeling an undeniable connection with him.

“May I?” Yeosang asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Your heart raced as you nodded in response. And before you could fully process what was happening, his warm, soft lips were pressed against yours. The kiss was tender yet deep, an exquisite blend of passion and sweet affection. Each movement was slow, deliberate, as if he were crafting a work of art, and you felt yourself melting into him, intoxicated by the moment.

When he finally pulled away, you whimpered softly, reluctant to break the blissful intimacy. Yeosang chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your lips, before planting gentle kisses along your cheek. He trailed down to your neck, eliciting a gasp from you as you surrendered to the sensation of his warm breath and soft kisses.

“Y-Yeo…” you stuttered, your eyes fluttering shut as you surrendered to the pleasure coursing through you. He continued to explore your skin, moving from your neck to your collarbone, his touch igniting your senses.

“Damn Yeo, are you trying to devour her?” The teasing voice of Jongho interrupted the sacred moment. You gasped, turning your head to see him standing in the doorframe with a smug smirk.

“Fuck off,” Yeosang muttered against your skin, refusing to let his lips leave you even for a moment.

With a playful glint in his eyes, Jongho ventured further into the kitchen, a mischievous smile on his face as he approached you. “You enjoying this, pretty?” he asked softly, brushing his fingers through your hair, sending currents of warmth spiraling through you. You nodded, unable to form words, your breath hitching in your throat. The sound of chuckles vibrated around you from both boys—Jongho’s and Yeosang’s—as Yeosang’s lips continued their descent lower.

Jongho cupped your cheek, tilting your face toward him before pressing his own soft lips against your forehead. His kisses trailed down your skin, lingering on your cheek before finally finding your lips, weaving a tender yet fervent kiss that made your heart race.

As desire swelled within you, you whimpered into the kiss, overwhelmed by the sensations wrapping around you like a warm embrace. The knowledge of what you had signed up for in this polyamorous relationship danced in the corner of your mind, but nothing could prepare you for the heady rush of being kissed by two of your boyfriends simultaneously.

Yeosang shifted slightly, giving Jongho room to deepen the kiss. His hands found their way around your back, holding you close, anchoring you in the moment.

“O-oh God,” you gasped, overwhelmed by the intimacy of it all as Yeosang smiled against your skin, playfully biting you.

“Alright, enough, you two” A new voice broke through the haze, and you turned to see Hongjoong grinning at the scene before him, his smirk playful yet admonishing. “Let Y/N breathe,” he added, stepping forward to pull Yeosang and Jongho off you gently.

Both Jongho and Yeosang exhaled in exaggerated sighs, their lips glossy and flushed like yours, a mirrored reflection of the intoxicating atmosphere you’d been engulfed in moments before.

“Fuck, if you wanted a taste, you could’ve just joined us,” Jongho joked, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes as he caught Hongjoong’s gaze. Yeosang chuckled, his eyes dancing with amusement as he took in your flushed face, still reeling from the whirlwind of emotion.

“For you two being the most quiet members, you’re so perverted,” Hongjoong laughed, rolling his eyes in exaggerated exasperation. He reached for your hand, a soft smile brightening his features. “Come on, let’s go. I want to show you something.”

Despite the heat still radiating in your cheeks from the flustered makeout session, you managed to nod softly, curiosity replacing the dizzying warmth in your chest as Hongjoong pulled you out of the kitchen, leaving a trail of lingering whispers and shared glances behind you.

———

Hongjoong's hand slipped into yours as he led you up the staircase, a warmth spreading between your fingers. The soft glow of the lamp illuminated the narrow hallway, painting everything in a cozy light. You felt a flutter of excitement in your chest, wondering what he had planned. Suddenly, Hongjoong turned to you, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“What did you want to show me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, curious yet hesitant.

He leaned closer, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle hug, pulling you snugly against him. “Hm, nothing much,” he replied, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I just wanted you to myself.” As he buried his face into the crook of your neck, you could feel the warmth radiating off him, mingling with your own. Laughter bubbled up from within you as you pressed against him, enjoying the closeness.

“I don’t like sharing,” Hongjoong mumbled into your skin, his breath tickling you. You pulled back slightly, confusion etching across your face as you searched his gaze.

“Joong… what do you mean?” you asked, furrowing your brows in curiosity.

Hongjoong chuckled softly, tenderly cupping your face in his hands. His thumb lightly stroked your cheek, a calmness washing over you. “Not like that, baby,” he assured you, his voice a low murmur. “I just meant that I want us to be alone when it comes to being more intimate”

You tilted your head, pondering his words. “But you always hug and give me kisses in front of everyone?” you pointed out, slightly baffled.

“Yeah, I know…” He leaned in ever so closer, his warm breath washing over your face as he spoke. “…but those are quick hugs and quick kisses.” His voice dropped to a whisper, intimate and charged. “This time… I want to take my time.”

With each word, his lips hovered tantalizingly close to yours, barely brushing against your skin. A hitch caught in your throat at his teasing. His nose nudged playfully against yours, leaving you yearning for more. The anticipation made you whine softly, a plea for him to deepen the connection.

“Joong, don’t tease me,” you whispered, feeling a heat creep up your cheeks at the thought of everyone’s earlier teasing. “Everyone has been at it today…” The complaint tumbled from your lips, desperate for his touch.

"Okay, okay, sorry," Hongjoong chuckled, pulling away with a sheepish grin. "But on a serious note, there’s something I want to show you."

You raised an eyebrow, curious. "What is it?"

Hongjoong’s eyes lit up with a spark of excitement as he gestured toward his desk. He stood, walking around to your side and guiding you gently to the cushioned chair in front of his computer. "Sit here," he said softly, his voice warm as he pulled the chair closer to the screen, making sure you were comfortable.

He hovered for a moment behind you, his arm gently resting across your shoulders as he reached for the mouse. You could feel the weight of his touch, warm and reassuring, as he moved the cursor across the screen with careful precision.

"Do you remember that song I was working on in the library?" he asked, his voice filled with an almost shy anticipation.

You turned your head slightly to meet his gaze, your eyes briefly flicking from his face to the screen before responding. "Yeah, I remember."

Hongjoong smiled, a soft, almost secretive curve of his lips that made your heart flutter. "I finished it," he murmured, his fingers hovering over the keyboard for a moment before he clicked open a file. "I want you to listen to it."

He grabbed a pair of headphones from the side of the desk and gently placed them over your ears. His hands lingered there for just a moment, his fingers brushing your skin so lightly it almost felt like a whisper. You tried not to think too much about it as he clicked the spacebar to play the track.

The soft hum of music filled your ears, and immediately, your body relaxed into the melody. The beat was gentle, the lyrics intimate, drawing you in with every note. Your heart seemed to sync with the rhythm, beating in time with the music. There was something about the song—something in the way it made you feel like the world had momentarily slowed down, like you were wrapped in the warmth of his sound. The lyrics spoke of love, of longing, of dreams and promises, and as the final verse came to a close, you felt a lump in your throat.

When the song ended, you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. You pulled the headphones from your ears, turning toward Hongjoong with a bright, genuine smile.

He was looking at you nervously, his lips pressed into a tight line, waiting for your reaction. "How was it?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of vulnerability as he took the headphones from your hands and set them on the desk.

You didn’t hesitate. "Joong, it’s beautiful. I love it so much," you said, your voice thick with sincerity, as your heart swelled with emotion. "It’s incredible."

Hongjoong let out a small, nervous laugh, his cheeks turning pink as he rubbed the back of his neck and glanced away. "You can be honest, Y/N. If you didn’t like it, it’s okay."

You shook your head, leaning forward a bit. "Hongjoong, I’m serious! This song is so good! I need it on my phone—like, right now," you said with a playful giggle, reaching out for his hands, desperate to hold onto some piece of him, some connection to the music that felt like it had touched your soul.

Hongjoong’s smile softened, and he reached for your hands, his fingers interlacing with yours. "I’m submitting this for my final project," he said, his voice now a little quieter, tinged with something deeper. He looked at you, his gaze both tender and earnest. "And I just wanted to tell you... thank you."

You blinked, confused. "Why are you thanking me?" you asked, your voice a little breathless from the intensity of the moment.

Hongjoong’s smile grew even more gentle, and he leaned in slightly, his voice barely a whisper. "You helped me finish it. You’re my muse." His words hung in the air, simple yet profound, and your heart skipped a beat.

You felt your cheeks warm, a flush creeping across your face as his words settled into your chest. "Hongjoong..." you whispered, the weight of his sentiment making you feel both overwhelmed and cherished all at once.

Without thinking, you stood up from the chair, your legs suddenly feeling unsteady as the emotions swirled inside you. You stepped toward him, closing the gap between you, and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a gentle embrace. The scent of him—a mix of clean cologne and something distinctly him—filled your senses, and you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

"What did I do to deserve you guys?" you whispered, your voice shaky with a mix of awe and gratitude.

Hongjoong’s arms immediately encircled your waist, pulling you closer, his body warm and solid against yours. His grip was firm, as though he never wanted to let go. You both stood there for a long moment, the world outside the room fading away, leaving only the two of you wrapped in the quiet intimacy of the space you shared.

You rested your forehead against his, your breath mingling with his as you looked down toward his lips.

“Kiss me,” you whispered out, longing for his touch. He smirked, the mischievous gleam in his eyes igniting a flame deep inside you, as he finally devoured your lips.

The connection was electric—soft yet maddeningly intense. The room filled with the wet sounds of your lips moving in a passionate dance, your breaths melding together in the heat of the moment. Hongjoong’s hand found its way to your waist, pulling you closer, as your own arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

You stumbled backward, your legs brushing against the soft edge of his bed, collapsing onto the plush mattress with a soft 'thud.'

“Fuck, Y/N,” Hongjoong murmured against your lips, eyes glazed with desire. You responded instinctively, deepening the kiss, refusing to let go. His knees pressed against your waist, pinning you down as the two of you continued your heated exploration of each other's mouths.

“Baby, wait—” Hongjoong panted, caught off guard as your kisses trailed from his lips to his cheek and down his jawline. You ignored him, your lips marking their path towards his neck—inviting and tempting.

“Y/N…” His voice was a strained whisper that sent shivers down your spine. You could feel his control slipping as he groaned, quickly catching your wrists and pinning them above your head. The confusion in your gaze made him gulp.

“I said wait, darling.” His voice was softer now, leaning down to place a gentle peck on your lips. “Let’s not move too fast…” The sincerity in his gaze made your heart flutter, but you felt the throbbing heat of desire coursing through your veins.

“No… it’s okay, Joong… I want to,” you replied softly, uncertainty mingling with determination as you pouted.

“Fuck, baby, I know. So do I.” He sighed, the weight of the moment evident in his expression. He released your wrists, his hands resting on the mattress beside you as he tried to collect himself.

“Then let’s do it…” you whispered, leaning closer. The raw yearning in your voice hung heavily in the air.

“We can’t, baby… not yet,” he hissed, shifting away from you. Panic surged deep within, and you sat up, the distance between you feeling unbearable.

“Why?” you asked, your voice barely breaking the silence. Hongjoong gazed at you, concern etched across his handsome face, as he cupped your cheeks—his caress gentle and reassuring.

“I don’t want you to think I’m just trying to sleep with you. As much as you may think I’m not, it’s just as important for me. I— We, want to show you that we really care for you.” He pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead, the warmth of his affection creating a comforting bubble around you. “The boys and I agreed to not do anything just yet, okay baby?”

His genuine honesty struck a chord in your heart, the ache of warmth spreading through you. You nodded, a soft smile emerging despite the lament of pent-up desire.

“Okay…” you said softly, and Hongjoong smiled back, capturing your lips once again in a gentle kiss, his hands finding their way to your lap.

Then, without meaning to, his fingers brushed against the fabric of your tights, and an immediate awareness rushed over him. The dampness beneath his fingertips sent shockwaves through your system. He paused, pulling back to assess you, his eyes widening with realization.

“Fuck, you got that wet just from kissing?” His voice was thick with surprise, as his fingers tapped against the moist fabric, eliciting a gasp from your lips.

“Joong~,” you gasped, embarrassment flooding you. Heat rushed to your cheeks.

“Remind me, who kissed you tonight?” Hongjoong began drawing lazy patterns against the damp patch, teasing you relentlessly. Your tongue felt tied with embarrassment, and you couldn’t bring yourself to respond.

“Tell me, baby,” he whispered, the smirk on his lips telling you he wasn’t letting you off the hook.

“Mingi… Hwa… Jongho… and Yeo…” you whimpered, the confession rolling off your tongue. The teasing darkness in his eyes flared with satisfaction.

“And?” he pressed, his lips ghosting over yours.

“And you…” you admitted, your voice barely a breath.

“I can’t leave you all pent up like this, huh, baby?” Hongjoong murmured, his voice low and sultry, teasing with intent.

“Wouldn’t be very good of me as your boyfriend, now would it?” he continued, playful yet serious.

“I thought you said we can’t do it…” you whimpered, the confusion heating your cheeks even more.

“Yeah… but the boys and I only agreed to actual intercourse.” His lips found your neck, planting soft kisses that sent tingling shivers down your spine. “Never said anything about touching you… with my fingers.”

He pulled away just enough to whisper against your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “Want me to touch you, darling?”

Your heart raced at the tenderness in his voice as you felt the thrill of anticipation rush through you. “Y-yes, please,” you breathed, tilting your neck instinctively to give him more access. You could barely contain the yearning, the desperate need building inside you, and as his fingers danced along the fabric of your clothing, you knew this night was far from over.

end of chapter 5….

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Author’s note: FINALLY! I know I’m sorry for the super long wait 🥲. I was so busy this past month! Anyways I hope you all like this chapter😝✋. Chapter 6 will be out soon!

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[izjeon]

GONEGIRL.

athlete!jungkook x f!reader

𖥻 genre: s2l (strangers to lovers?), fwb (friends with benefits), pwp, and university au.

𖥻 rating: 18+

𖥻 word count: 3.2k

𖥻 warnings: [MINORS DNI] afab/f!reader, heavy infatuation, they basically stalk each other, a lot of sexual tension, smut is literally the plot, many mentions of wet dreams, debatable infidelity, reader has debatable morals, jungkook & reader are horny, switch!jk (but he does most of the dominating) and switch!reader, a lot of making-out, hickeys (f.receiving), reader lowkey has a praise kink, hair pulling (m.receiving), jungkook whimpers, extra beefy jungkook, dry humping… and they get caught.

a/n: this is not proofread, but why is standing next to you such a bop?? helped me finish this after months of it being stuck in the drafts. also, to whoever told me to stay in the basement, i couldn’t stick to my word, pookie 😔. enjoy!

series masterlist: GONEGIRL

chapter one - ‘slowburn?’

𖥻 GONEGIRL

you knew who he was.

jeon jungkook: the senior that all the freshmen drooled for and the senior that all the seniors wanted to themselves. as a senior yourself, you couldn’t say he didn’t intrigue you. he was a sporty guy, winning national and global championships in track and wrestling for fun on the side. obviously, his matches were the most popular in viewership across the university. the golden boy, he never once failed to add another gold medal to your university’s esteemed profile.

so, you knew who he was, but you couldn’t understand why his eyes were stuck on you and only you.

you’d first met him at a party held by one of his close friends, namjoon. you were introduced briefly and didn’t exchange any numbers or socials. but, that following morning, jngkk_97 followed you on instagram. and, from that day on, he was the first guy to like your posts, the first guy to view your stories and the first guy you knew of to not slide into your dms.

with his intriguing, yet unexpectedly distant, behaviour, he found his way into your mind— 24/7. so, every morning, you awoke, gaslighting yourself into believing that the thought of his pink, pouty lips on yours didn't actually send you into a midlife crisis. they just made you a little faint.

every single night, you tucked your fragile mind into bed, losing yourself in hazy dreams branded by the thought of jungkook's touch. but, after a few weeks of contactless flirting, you let the idea of him go.

because you’d been told he had a girlfriend.

although it usually took a lot to do so, you felt the cowardly urge to give up on your infatuation. it'd been more than 2 weeks of mutual stalking but, still, no message. you guessed, he just wasn't as desperate for you as you were for him.

and you didn't like that. so you quit your daily routine of streaming his instagram and greedily watched as he kept up his own stalkish routine, consecutively failing to direct his focus back onto his girlfriend.

the same gorgeous girlfriend sitting with him on a black and cushy beanbag, radiating as she spoke to the other students around them. and that's when you realised, not having each other's undivided attention must've been a thing in their relationship.

because, his doe eyes of false innocence were only on you.

it was the first time you were seeing each other in person after namjoon’s party.

you stared back at jungkook through the wide, unglazed window in the separating wall between the kitchen and the living room. even with his supposed girlfriend of 5 months on his lap, running her fingers through his hair, his eyes were only on you. you scoffed, chuckling to yourself.

he would be fun.

leaning back on the kitchen counter of jennie’s apartment, you tilted your head to the side. intrigued, you watched as he did the same, copying your actions with a lopsided grin. now, you didn’t have the best eyesight but you weren’t so blind that you couldn’t tell that he was clearly hinting at something. something that would land you in a very taboo situation.

and you loved that.

you lifted your plastic cup to your lips and turned away from the athlete sitting at the other end of the room. you downed your drink as you walked out of the kitchen and into the living room. you looked around for your best friend and there she was, face deep in boobs.

as you made your way to the couch she was sprawled on, you realised the athlete had disappeared from his girlfriend’s side. curious of where he’d disappeared to, your eyes ran across the packed apartment, desperate for the sight of him.

and there it was, the something.

he was standing near the front door and his girlfriend had gone to sit with other seniors. it looked like he was exchanging goodbyes with his friends.

he was leaving— without his girlfriend.

“jennie, i think i’m going,” you mindlessly whispered, eyes stuck on the 5’10" hottie with his foot out the door and doe eyes drifting back across the crowded room. then his eyes were on yours again: a silent exchange of words.

“already…?” a drunk jennie whined, lifting her face from the deep cleavage of her girlfriend. “wait,” she mumbled, eyebrows scrunching into a sobering expression, and squinted her eyes at your side profile. “you think?”

satisfied with your decided future, you turned back to your best friend with your lips curling into a sly grin. “no, i know.”

she lazily propped herself up on her girlfriend and whined, “but how’re you gonna get home~?”

the front door slammed shut.

“i’ll find a ride.”

𖥻 GONEGIRL

jungkook picked at the zip of his thin bomber coat. he was leaning against his black benz, waiting.

ever since he first laid his eyes on you in that little backless, black dress, jungkook knew you were trouble. you were a distraction; more distracting than the pending termination of his current relationship; and much more distracting than the thought of joining the national track team again. you were a parasite living in his mind.

he practically breathed you. when he woke, you were his first thought. when he felt compelled to open instagram, you were there. even when he would try to escape you in his sleep, you were there. he could barely last ten seconds sinking into the thought of you. if you let him sink into the reality of you, jungkook would cease to exist.

jungkook groaned, throwing back his head. he thought he would be fine and perfectly content with your instagram and your daily occurrence in his dreams (sexual or not), but you just had to show up at this party— held by your best friend. how was he supposed to know you guys were best friends? now he was actually waiting for the real you and he could feel himself going mad. he wasn’t sure he could keep his hands to himself and he could already feel the consequences of his future actions creeping up on him—

“who bought that for you?”

his ears twitched.

his heart lunged and his eyes found yours in an instant. but jungkook’s always had a wandering eye.

his eyes almost instantly fell to your body, trailing over your exposed cleavage in your white dress, and then dropping to the high slit on your left thigh, almost exposing your crotch. you were some type of angel for sure.

he was fucked.

jungkook was fucked the moment he met you; the moment he spent over an hour scrolling through countless instagram accounts to find yours; the moment he couldn’t dream of his own future without you showing up; and the moment he began to pray you showed up in his dreams every night before bed.

he was fucked because he feared once he had a hold on you, he would never be able to let go.

a man’s logic.

“my dad,” jungkook finally replied, pulling himself together. “he decided i needed a car— because i run 24/7. and there definitely cannot be a cheaper and better car than a mercedes benz.”

his sarcastic tone made you smile.

“that’s cute,” you smiled.

it went silent.

“do you need a ride?”

“don’t you have a girlfriend?” you rebutted with a smirk. truthfully, part of you didn’t care about his answer. you were an addict in front of a line of coke. you would get what you wanted one way or another.

“ha,” he chuckled, lowering his head in what you thought was shame. your question put jungkook on the spot. and you knew cheaters never worked well when put on the spot. but jungkook looked up with a wincing smile and corrected you, “she’s not my girlfriend.”

oh.

“we’re… complicated.”

now, jungkook wasn’t sure that choyeon would’ve given you the same answer. they weren’t together, but she acted as if they were. and he didn’t make much of an effort to correct her. so, he guessed he was still guilty. but he only felt guilty to a certain extent. he’d already chosen feeling guilty about hurting choyeon rather than missing an opportunity to get what he dreamed of.

what he fucking craved.

the sound of your heels getting closer to him kissed jungkook out of his thoughts. oh, you seduced him: the feeling of your manicured fingers gently grabbing hold of his chin and slowly lowering his clouded eyes to yours.

you whispered, “how complicated?”

jungkook held his breath for a second or two. how complicated were they? well, he knew they were complicated enough for him to forget about her in your presence and only remember her when you asked him to. however, they weren’t complicated enough for them to not be in some sort of a relationship.

but he decided it didn’t matter. when it came to you, she didn’t matter. he realised how beautiful your eyes looked under the moonlight. they glistened with the false innocence jungkook knew would ruin him. after all the nights of imagined panting, moaning and fucking and mornings of bitter reality, post-clarity and cum-stained sheets, jungkook burned for your touch.

fuck, he could almost taste you.

as if you could read his thoughts, your awaiting finger finally fell onto the his plump bottom lip, sweetly kissing the man out of his stupor. your eyes left his and fell to where your finger slowly traced across jungkook’s soft, pink receipt of kisses.

that’s when his lips parted, and he whispered, “as complicated as you want.”

at his answer, your distracted eyes flickered back up to his awaiting, hooded eyes. that’s when you, too, realised how dangerous your infatuation had gotten. just the sight of those buttered chestnut eyes and the intoxicating feel of his slow exhales on your skin forced you into a reality where you lacked even the smallest control over your own body. but, even more dangerous, was how little you cared about the way you drowned in his presence. but then again, you never did learn how to swim.

you smiled, letting your hands fall back to your sides.

“i’ll take that ride.”

𖥻 GONEGIRL

the ride back to yours was almost silent, only filled with random whispers of directions coming from jungkook’s gps system. the voiced map directed him to your address and, yet, everything else pointed his eyes to you.

jungkook took a glance at you. he watched you; he watched you with your elbow propped up onto the rolled-down window, relaxed upper body peeking out into seoul’s night. he saw how you leaned further into the wind licking at your cheeks when he pressed on the gas, a hint of a smile wavering across your partially hidden face. he watched you in the silence, accepting his loud need— his loud need for you.

and he didn’t even know you. but jungkook couldn’t seem to find the rational sense to care. he knew you were a ‘stranger’ but, fuck, you’d overwhelmed his entire existence. you had damned him to the crucifying point where he actually felt the need to breathe you— to accept every single inch of you into his being— and he had no idea why. even as he glanced in your direction for the hundredth time, he couldn’t dare try to understand how you’d done this to him.

once again, as if you could read his thoughts, your head turned, lost eyes running over the lavender lights in the car. and like a key, your wandering eyes pierced his and locked his gaze onto yours.

“you’ve arrived at your destination,” the gps announced, breaking the exchanged glance. jungkook turned back to the road, and you turned back to seoul’s night.

“mm, just here,” you hummed, pointing to an empty parking spot in front of the tall apartment complex. maybe it was just human curiosity, but you found yourself mesmerised by the way he smoothly slotted the benz into the empty space.

fuck, everything he did was hot.

the sound of the engine’s hum softening into a quiet mew reminded jungkook of the anticipation clawing at his skin. it clouded his senses. but when his eyes flitted back onto you, yours were already on his.

he watched your lips part, and stilled as your next whisper left a trail of wet kisses across his mind.

“come up with me.”

𖥻 GONEGIRL

“thanks,” you started, slotting your key into auburn door’s lock. turning to catch a glimpse of jungkook’s dewy eyes behind his black locks, you smiled and continued, “for the ride.”

jungkook’s lips quirked into the same lopsided grin from earlier. “you’re welcome,” he replied.

it was silent again.

with those hidden eyes still on yours, jungkook’s tongue slipped past his lips, running over his bottom lips. your gaze dropped to the pink tongue flitting across those pink, pillowy lips of his, and you sunk. those lips forced you into a familiar daydream where all that mattered was letting your tongue glide across his bottom lip until you slipped in, fucking his tongue with yours— tasting jungkook.

you needed a taste.

you glanced back up into his prolonged stare. then your hands were falling from the keys in the door, fingers smoothing across the nape of his neck and cheek, and tugging his lips down to yours. but jungkook’s hands were already cradling your hips, touch-starved fingers pressing into your sides, as his lips met yours first.

it was a gentle yet deep peck. a peck was quick: it allowed jungkook to draw back for two crucial seconds and let his clouded vision run over your expression. alluring eyes looked up into his gaze and jungkook could finally see it: your mutual desperation, the hunger, and the torture. it was all he needed to see before his finger was tilting your chin up once more, and his lips were taking you in.

from brushing his tongue past yours to savouring the taste of alcohol on your tongue, jungkook sunk into the taste of you. but he didn’t know if he could go any longer without sinking into you. his hand left your waist cold, fingers fumbling with the keys in the door and failing miserably. “no,” you rushed, lips barely leaving his. “turn them to the right.”

after hearing the click of your stubborn door unlocking, you were all over each other again. you stumbled into your apartment, hand quickly muddling with the light switch, with jungkook hurrying after you, tossing your keys and his suffocating jacket aside.

his daring fingers smoothed over your ass, kneading the soft, clothed skin, before lifting you to his hips. a deep hum of approval rumbled against your lips as your legs wrapped around him. but, in this position, your little dress had ridden up, exposing a white thong snug to your weeping slit. and who on earth would jungkook be if he didn’t cop a feel?

lifting you up once more to adjust his arm, the tips of jungkook’s fingers slipped under the white lace, fingers grazing across your supple ass. feeling his fingers inch closer to your needy cunt, your breath hitched and the dull stir in your core began to hum, itching for more than a simple touch.

and, as if he could read your mind, your breath was forced from you, head falling onto the lush cushions on your sofa. wafts of mint invading your senses, your hazy eyes took in how beautiful jungkook looked above you— like it was where he was meant to be. and he realised the same, the apartment’s warm and amber lights cascading through his locks and clouding the irises of your tempting eyes.

in that still second, both you and jungkook came to a silent agreement. your dreams couldn’t compare to reality.

“you’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

you blinked. you knew you were beautiful— of course— but hearing the phrase trickle out of jungkook’s pretty mouth felt…different. your eyes followed his as his gaze fluttered across your face, brows furrowing as if he were in awe.

“kiss me,” you begged, and he obeyed.

greedy, jungkook’s kisses were everywhere— on your swollen lips, before tumbling down your jaw to the middle of your neck, littering a trail of bruising hickeys. and you couldn’t do anything but moan, whimper, and sink into his sweet touch.

“oh, fuck,” you whined, head tilting back into the plush sofa. your fingers pushed through the thick rift of hair at the nape of his neck, tugging on it. but you never would’ve expected such a pathetic moan to leave his throat, rumbling into the sweet spot right above your collarbone. you paused. his moan echoed in your mind— a repeating succulent sound. so, you tugged a little harder, relishing in how he muffled a guttural whimper into the base of your neck, “mmf, fuck”. but then his hips began to move against yours, revengeful, and you realised how fucked you were— and would be.

jungkook had a bulge that made you wonder; wonder how he crammed that shit into his boxers; wonder how he lived a seemingly normal life with it; and wonder how he would struggle to cram that cock into your sopping mess of a cunt. so, as he ground down against your erect clit, your hips bucked up into his fucking, eager to measure the sheer size of the hidden dick. “oh, please,” you whined, thoughts stained by the way he licked a hot stripe across your ear’s helix, boner perfectly smushing down against your clit.

bruising lips barely touching yours, half-lidded eyes cruelly watched as you rode up into his clothed cock and stuttered moans so pathetic your cheeks burned, glazed eyes brimming with tears. he was already fucking you so good, and he hadn’t even touched your bare pussy yet.

oh, jungkook ruined you. with a hand trailing down your heated sides, he sent your body into a rabid heat, his touch only licking the wet flame ruining your ability to think. and when his hand finally cupped your leaking cunt, thumb circling over your pulsing clit, you were already begging pitiful whimpers. “please, please, please—”

“___?”

your bodies stilled.

a voice that was not yours or jungkook’s echoed throughout the apartment, piercing the thick haze that’d swallowed your minds whole. you blinked, stare slowly lowering to jungkook’s stunned stare that was already on you. his doe eyes wrinkled into a smile as his lips pursed into an awkward grin. the cringe was evident on his face; he was a grown adult getting caught with his hand deep in the cookie jar.

jungkook’s head slowly raised and turned, peeking over the sofa to see your intruder and his cockblock. then he froze. still hidden from the eyes of your cockblock, you eyed his expression, confused on why remained still, eyes wide, lips pursed and ears burning red.

who was it?

begrudgingly, you shuffled out of jungkook’s caging arms, propping yourself up on your elbows, and looked over the sofa, ready to kick out your cockblocking neighbour. but who you saw wasn’t an unfortunate neighbour you could just dismiss. in fact, the person you saw made you the unfortunate neighbour because there your best friend stood, mouth agape and only a foot into the apartment.

“oh, fuck. well, um. oh wow,” jennie blubbered, feet awkwardly wobbling over the door’s threshold. now, drunk jennie didn’t have the best memory but she could’ve sworn she’d warned you about jungkook’s relationship status. so, as you watched the cogs turn in her head, her brows furrow and her eyes squint, darting between the both of you, all you could do was blink and smile.

“…what the fuck?”

gg: ‘slowburn?’ - fini