#also every block it added slaps

[just-illegal]

if the world is against 1.19 then i am against the world

[chunksworld]

Take My Breath

NewJeans Danielle x Male Reader | (Tags: Smut)

A/N: part 3 of this nwjns series I'm still not quite so sure what to call; thank you to kaede for beta reading as always.

Part 1: Double Fantasy

Part 2: Role Model

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“Hnnghhh. F-Fucking me so good—harder!”

Everything about this situation is risky, dangerous, and foolish. But it’s hard to think about anything else when you’re pounding Danielle like she’s nothing but your fucktoy—and you can only be thankful that no one else is here to listen to her wanton moans that threaten to rip out of her throat. And that’s mostly because you two are in the backseat of your car, some early 2000s model that was definitely not built to withstand such intense pressure. It’s only fortunate that you were sitting in the back of the lecture hall when she sent you a pic of her in her lingerie from the night before because it made for an easy exit towards your car and it would have been extremely embarrassing to have to cover your boner with your backpack. It’s also fortunate that your car is tinted because the sight of her face down, ass up with her jacket barely clinging onto her tight body is absolutely not school appropriate. ��Keep fucking me like that—shit—I’m gonna cum soon!”

When Hanni gave her your number, you didn’t think that she would be messaging you to hook-up every other day. She didn’t seem like that type of girl, in fact you’d think that she’s the type to only have sex after marriage but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Also, you didn’t think that Danielle would be more insatiable than her two friends. It doesn’t matter what you’re doing or where you are, she can just hit you with a text and you’ll be there to satisfy her carnal needs. The girls call it a “dick appointment” but you’re sure it’s more of an on-call situation with the way you are always there for her—only sexually of course. It’s already getting difficult trying to keep your brain (and dick) intact with the way Minji and Hanni both seem to wanna share and fuck you at the same time. You’re sure it’s only a matter of time before a threesome is in the cards—not that you are complaining because just the thought is enough to keep you horny for days on end. 

And adding Danielle to that mix would further complicate an already mind-boggling situation, as much as you lust for her body as the other two. One, there’s only so much cum in your balls to go around. And second, falling in love with multiple girls at once is not something you’re keen on doing. It was rather something that forced you to commit to the situation at hand (but shouldn’t you have rejected Hanni’s offer in the first place?) It’s too much to wrap your head around at this very moment, especially when Danielle was just that distant friend in your circle. Did you find her pretty? Absolutely. But these past few weeks of hooking up with her led you to discover that she’s much more than that. You’ve only known her as that bright, cheerful girl with a heavenly voice for quite some time now yet here you are making her sing a completely different song.

Wrap your arms around her tiny waist and pull her upright, her back pressed against your chest to thrust yourself deeper into her. Blonde locks block your vision but her scent is enough to encourage your fucking. Her reaction is immediate, louder moans coming out of her mouth that you are sure can be faintly heard from the outside—on top of that, the sound of skin slapping against skin reverberates throughout this tiny space. Plus, how are you going to get rid of the smell of sex later? You don’t care though, not when your face is buried in the crook of her neck and your hands creep up to massage her tiny but beautiful tits. “You’ve been planning this all morning weren’t you?” Lips find that sweet spot on her neck and you begin to nip and suck—you can never, will never get enough of her. “Wearing my favorite cologne because you want me to fuck you till you can’t walk while the rest of our friends are out for their lunch break?” 

Danielle can only nod, her tongue sticking out and her eyes closed. Absolutely nothing matters to her at this point—only the fact that your cock is rearranging her guts and that she’s going to have to explain why she’s limping after excusing herself out of meeting with the rest of the girls. Right. Nothing matters. Take a quick glance at your watch. 10 minutes. Unfortunately, the thirty minutes flew by and you can only ignore their messages for so long before they start looking for you. It was a great lunch you’ll explain, one that consisted of a mixture of Australian and Korean cuisine. “I’m so close, please.” Her voice is hoarse and her makeup is already ruined beyond repair but that just makes her even more gorgeous in your eyes. “Shit, if I knew you were gonna be this good—umph! I would’ve snatched you up for myself.” 

You don’t respond verbally but you’re damn near pistoning your cock inside her in response to the compliment that definitely doesn’t rile you up. “I’m cumming, oh fuck!” She almost falls forward and you wrap your arms tighter around her waist. Danielle is definitely a screamer and you are wondering whether she still has any voice left after such a powerful orgasm. It’s hot, the way it becomes a full body experience with how she’s shuddering and shaking against your figure. The way your name comes out of that pretty mouth in between curse words and broken sentences. She has completely drenched not just your thighs but the polyester fabric of your backseat. But just how messy the cleanup is going to be doesn’t enter your mind at all when you can feel your own orgasm getting closer. You pull out for a brief moment as her slick drips down her thighs and you re-enter after giving your cock a pump. You resume thrusting at the frantic pace you did before and you know that you are only a few thrusts away 

“Gonna cum, Dani.” Through gritted teeth you manage to warn her, the incredibly tight and warm feeling inside her pussy only urging you on towards her completion. Since she’s already made a mess of your car then you might as well add to it. Your thrusts are more erratic, losing their rhythm the more you indulge yourself in her body. Two handfuls of her ass is what you grab onto as her body falls back down, moans muffled by your cum-stained seats. Nothing feels as good as her at this very moment; and if you could just ditch the rest of your classes and fuck her for the rest of the day, you absolutely would. You’d rather have her bouncing and screaming on your cock than listen to your professor babble some nonsense anyways. “Wanna pump you full until it’s leaking down your thighs.” You can feel it, you are going to explode and give her the biggest creampie she’s ever received from you. But her right hand grips on your biceps, almost failing to do so with how much sweat covers your bodies.

“Not this time…” Danielle mutters just in time and you’re almost ashamed by the way you groaned in protest. You have to make a decision in seconds and you make the one you’ve been wanting to since you’ve started hooking up with her. You pull out and make her lay on her back, straddling her face and pumping your slick-covered cock. A guttural groan of her name leaves your lips as shot after shot of thick cum lands on her most prominent features: her nose, cheekbones, and those tempting lips of hers. She looks pretty, so fucking pretty that not even the most expensive makeup she wears can rival the way her face looks glazed and dripping with your cum. As expected, this might have been your biggest orgasm with her so far. But it’s hard not to be completely drained when she lured you into such a precarious situation that has you risking it all once again.  Last week it was inside the maintenance room and now, your car. Maybe you have a thing for potentially getting caught fucking your girlfriend’s friends after all.

You check your watch again and you’ve only got three minutes to dress and clean-up, which you both are experts at doing so by this point. Embarrassed, Danielle offers to help pay for the clean-up of your car but you turn her down. You don’t mind going bankrupt if it means having her cum on your cock every week. After a quick retouching of her makeup you two are off to continue the rest of your day like nothing happened. But it’s clearly obvious with the way Danielle limps off when she exits your vehicle, heading in the opposite direction of you. And it’s not like you don’t smell like her either: the combination of her shampoo, conditioner, and whatever body wash she uses lingering on you. Whatever. As long as you sit as far away from your friends, especially the two girls, as far as possible you’ll be safe. You arrive in the lecture hall in the nick of time and despite making very little noise, you’ve already got two pairs of eyes staring at you from the other side. And they’re not just staring, they are smirking at you—as if to tell you that your cover has already been blown. 

That’s why it was pointless to lie to Minji and Hanni because they could already sense it from a mile away. “So, where did you guys do it? We tried looking at all the places you two have had sex before.” You tried to make a quick getaway as soon as the lecture ended but it was all in vain when Minji grabbed you by your shoulders. Even more so when Hanni is on the other side hugging your arm. It was a mistake, it was all a mistake. Maybe you should have just gone back to your place and took a shower, it’s not like you wanted to attend that stupid math class anyways. Instead you have your girlfriend and oh, your other girlfriend interrogating you. Who in their right mind would agree to such an arrangement? “Oh! They might’ve done it inside one of those empty classrooms down the hall. Am I right? I’m just wondering how no one heard you guys though considering Dani can get pretty loud.” Seriously, do these girls tell each other everything? “Dani likes being fucked raw too so they must’ve made a big mess.” The casualness at which they talk about their sex life (which unfortunately happens to include you) is truly astounding and you feel even hotter than when you were fucking Danielle earlier inside that cramped car earlier.

“Why the hell would I tell you both where we fucked? So you can join in?” Maybe it’s a question you shouldn’t have asked because they both nod their heads eagerly. “You are both unbelievable, I thought you were gonna let me and her do our thing separately? Wasn’t that part of our agreement?” Danielle hates sharing you even if you weren’t lovers, it was an agreement reluctantly agreed to by Minji and Hanni considering they can’t keep their hands off of you. They contemplated and then contemplated again, ultimately deciding that the blonde Aussie can have a slice of the pie rather than it being just a one time thing. They were all friends after all, and not even their overwhelming lust for you won’t get in the way of that. Sharing is indeed caring when it comes to you, and who are you to complain about this whole situation? “Anything else? I really need to go back home and take a shower.” That was thankfully enough to shut them up; a miracle considering they love arguing with you mostly because you tend to spend more time with one compared to the other. 

“Nope! We’re good. See you tomorrow, baby.” Hanni leans in to kiss you first, standing on the very tips of her toes to connect her lips with yours. Then Minji, who pulls you in for a brief makeout session, she really hates being one-upped you see. If there’s a single trait of hers that you love, it’s that she is extremely competitive—that’s how your rivalry with her started in the first place. What began as arguing over who is the better and smarter student landed the two of you in a mess that might just be too much even for two big brains to handle, but again who are you to complain? Instinctively, you grab her by the waist and the moan that emits from her mouth almost wants you to fuck her then and there. “You still have to help me study tomorrow. I hope you’re ready.” Yeah, and you hope your cock is too. A wink from both of them and you’re finally given the opportunity to head home and perhaps contemplate just what the fuck you got yourself into while you make your way there. Your roommate greets you from the couch when the door opens, briefly raising his hand to wave at you before looking back at the show he’s watching.

“Hey man, we’re drinking out tonight. Wanna come?”

“Nah, I’m good.” You didn’t think Danielle would drain you to the point of physical exhaustion but she did, something that her older friends can’t do. You’re not exactly the fittest but it is as if you ran a marathon with how tired you are. “Just tired today, have fun though. Try not to get shitfaced.” You joke but he absolutely will, all of you do—to the point that you find yourself crashing at a random friend’s place instead of your own and that is exactly what’s going to happen tonight. A night out with the boys is usually something you never miss out on but not tonight, a good sleep is what you need especially if Minji is going to exhaust you again tomorrow. You bid farewell to him instead and head back into your room, crashing immediately on your bed to sleep. Well that was the plan at least but you find yourself waking up a few hours later to your phone ringing. You groan in frustration at having your beauty sleep interrupted but the stupid phone won’t stop ringing. It would stop for a few seconds then start ringing again. Groggy, you blindly grab your phone from your nightstand. It’s already extremely dark outside and the lights of your phone screen almost blinds you. You squint your eyes a couple of times to clear up your surroundings and you damn near jump out of the bed when you see the name on top: Danielle. 

That was sobering enough to fully wake you up and for some reason, your heart is pounding even at just the sight of her name. She rarely calls you, what’s the matter? Check the time. 2 AM. What could this woman want from you now? Feigning reluctance, you swipe to answer her call. “Dani, what the fuck do you want?” On the other end, you could hear squelching noises in the background along with the eerily familiar moans of the girl in question. “Daddy, please.” There is absolutely no way she’s doing what you think she’s doing. But the long pause and the sound of her moans that are music to your ears are all you hear. Five seconds. Ten seconds. Fifteen seconds. More squelching noises in the background and it’s undeniable what sinful actions that girl is doing in her room. “I’ve been fucking myself with this dildo for the past 10 minutes now but it’s not as big as you…..” You can hear her bed squeaking, and you can only imagine her gripping on the bed sheets and squirming around as that phallic object fucks her and you wish it was you that was fucking her instead. But it’s too late, and your roommate could come back home anytime. What if he didn’t crash at someone else’s place for the night? You’ve always let your dick do the thinking but it’s time to show some maturity, even though you’re only a year older than her. As much as your cock is about to burst through your shorts, there has to be a line drawn—though it’s difficult when it comes to her.

“Danielle, there is absolutely no fucking way you’re calling me at 2 in the morning for some di–”

A loud moan interrupts you, followed by breathless pants. “…I’ll even let you cum in me this time. I’m s-sorry I couldn’t let you—hnghh— do it earlier.” That’s what eventually lured you in because twenty minutes later. Danielle is sitting on your lap in your apartment sticking her tongue as far down your throat as possible. Your shirt is discarded already the moment you basically carried her towards your room and threw her in your bed.  It is also wonderfully considerate of her to not wear a bra because you are immediately greeted by her perky tits the moment you removed her hoodie. A hand of yours fondles her breasts while a hand of hers pulls you even closer to her as if there were any inches of space left between you two. It is messy, teeth clashing and tongues swirling. It is not sufficient to say that Danielle is a good kisser because she is a great one. Every makeout session leaves you breathless and wanting. You absolutely don’t have the time to question it now but you always seem to savor these moments more with her than anyone else—this blonde woman just has an effect on you that keeps you coming back for more.

“You know, you look good with my lipstick all over your face.” A proud smile on Danielle’s face and you can only imagine all of the lipstick stains peppering your visage. She rests her forehead on yours and you swear you could see your own reflection on her eyes. They’re captivating, jaw-dropping and you wouldn’t mind staring at them for a few minutes if she wasn’t pulling you in again. “I wonder what they’ll look like on the rest of your body.” Her lips immediately test out that hypothesis, trailing down to the expanse of your broad shoulders and chest and kissing every single inch of your upper body. Whatever she is doing to distract you is effective because her hands have left your face and are instead trailing down towards your shorts. Both of you groan as your clothed length grinds with her warm underside, clearly she’s just as excited to have your cock out as much as you. You don’t want to make her wait so she gets off of you to pull your shorts and boxers at the same time; you whimper at the sensitivity of your length as it is exposed to the cold air of your room. 

“So hard for me already….” You chase Danielle’s lips again but she purposefully moves away, her eyes focusing instead on your cock like a predator looking at its prey. More kisses, this time towards your neck and collarbones. “You could’ve easily ignored me when it’s this late but you answered.” A hand wraps around your shaft and you whimper; the head is swollen and leaking and you wish she’d just stop teasing you. She removes her panties herself and you’re now both in an equal state of undress. “You even let me into your place, have the unnies been here before?” You shake your head, it’s not like the circumstances allowed. Danielle lives off-campus with her parents while the other two have to live in the dorms. That’s it. There’s absolutely no other reason why this blonde woman is the only one that you’ve invited over.  

It’s definitely not because she has this power over you that not even your girlfriends do. “You have a soft spot for me, huh?” You refuse to acknowledge such a fact, for the repercussions in doing so would mean you’d have to face two angry (but extremely gorgeous) women who were already reluctant to share you with another woman. “We’re not fucking unless you say something.” Her other hand cups your heavy balls, fondling them. Somehow they’re back to being full again despite blowing your load all over her face earlier. 

Sure, a one night stand is perfectly fine and even encouraged but what you two are doing have surpassed that— “Fucking hell, Danielle! Slow the fuck down…” But the opposite of your request is what she does, lips continuing to leave their imprints all over your upper body while her dainty fingers pump your cock at a much faster rate. She doesn’t say anything but instead gives you a look that tells you she will not stop unless she gets what she wants. It’s torturous yet feels so damn good at once, the way she can work you into the throes of an orgasm that threatens to make a mess all over her porcelain skin yet again with just her fingers alone drives you breathless and groaning her name shamelessly. A small part of you is willing to do just that because you don’t even remember if you ever came thanks to someone else’s hands but the thought of her voice sounding raspy and fucked while you are pumping cum inside her lithe body is enough to make you crack under pressure, especially when those deep blue eyes of hers stare at you with so much want and need. But how would Hanni and Minji react? Fuck it, you’ll deal with whatever consequences there will be tomorrow morning. How pathetic. 

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” It’s almost devilish the way she’s smiling so sweetly and innocently and yet her voice is laced with venom. Her soft hands slow down the pace of their pumping and you are about to lose it. “You’re the only person I’ve ever invited over.” A breathless admission that has your entire body heating up to a feverish temperature. Why was it so hard to admit that? “Now please, Dani. I want you.” At this point, Danielle can make you admit to crimes you never even committed. All you want is her and nothing but her. If it takes losing every ounce of self-control like you’ve already done with Minji then so be it. It was already gone the moment you decided to fuck around with three girls at once anyways. Danielle smirks and lets you take control once again now that she is getting what she wants from you. You get a taste of her lips again when she lays back on the bed—your bed, with you hovering on top of her and hands planted on either side of her head. Because of how much she craves the feeling of your skin on hers, you find yourself crashing on top of her ever so slightly and your cock briefly makes contact with her slit. “Hmmph!” The blonde woman below you whimpers at the sensitivity and you don’t wait any longer. With how wet she has been you find the task of penetrating her quite simple, your cock sinking into her pussy in one clean motion.

Her legs immediately circle around your waist and arms wrapping around your head as you start off slowly. Fucking Danielle is always a breathtaking experience; with her making so much noise which includes moaning your name for everyone to hear, you only need to drink it all in and enjoy every single second. There is also the way she would grab onto you tightly like she is afraid of losing your touch—you can only imagine how clingy she is as a girlfriend. Just like what she is doing now with her nails scratching your shoulders and back while she leaves dark red marks all over your neck. If she wants to mark her territory then so be it, you can only hope that the other girls will be understanding. You groan as you feel her teeth sinking down your neck like a vampire, you know it is accidental because not only is she immediately trying to soothe the pain with kisses but her limbs are now coiled much tighter around you. You must have discovered a certain spot deep within her and you want to keep hitting that spot. “Faster…fuck, fuck, fuck!” You do not waste any second to grant her request, pounding her with surgical precision and she is on the verge of crying in your arms. You are glad you don’t have to worry about the confined space of your car this time around nor do you have to worry about making a mess.

Unlike earlier there is no warning when Danielle cums this time around—only a vociferous moan that makes you thankful your roommate isn’t around.  It’s not surprising considering she was already close to getting herself off when she called you a while ago and it only took having a real cock inside for her to become completely undone. A few more deep thrusts is all you were able to accomplish before she clenches so tightly around your cock and her nails dig deeper into the skin of your back. The room feels exponentially hotter now despite the cold temperature inside the apartment, and you’re both sweating so much that a shower is definitely your next destination after this. Her breath intermixes with yours and you grab the side of her face to kiss her, causing her moans to redirect inside your mouth instead. It’s sloppy, it’s intense, and you find yourself drowning in her lips as you continue to fuck her through her climax. Despite having some insane features on her body, it’s her lips that draw you in the most and you just can’t stop kissing her. “So-so good! Don’t you ever fucking stop!” Not like you were planning to, especially when both of your thighs are so absolutely drenched in her cum now that squelches echo inside your room every time you bottom out inside her. 

Take a look at your bedside clock and you notice that it’s getting incredibly late, it is 3 AM already and you have yet to accomplish the one goal you’ve been salivating towards: to cum inside Danielle. You ignore just how drenched your bedsheets has become and you grab her legs and place them on your shoulders, then leaning forward as you transition to fucking her in mating press. You don’t miss the way her eyes light up when she immediately recognizes what you are about to do. “You better let me fucking cum inside you this time. You promised.” It almost comes off as pettiness the way those words left your mouth but the only reaction you get from her is a giggle and her eyes sparkling with the tears drying up. Knowing her, she probably thinks it’s cute and hot at the same time that you are getting riled up because of her—and rightfully so. You don’t waste time and continue your thrusting, making the bed creak with how hard you’re fucking her into it. You bury your face in the crook of her neck again to inhale the sweet scent of her perfume combined with her sweat. It’s the perfect place for you because her whimpers of your name go straight to your ears and the way she says it with her sultry voice just urges you on.

And tears start to well in the blonde’s eyes again because you are going much deeper in this position, going balls deep with every single motion of your hips. It doesn’t take too long for you to get close either considering you wanted to masturbate at the sound of her masturbating but it’s great that you saved it for this very moment. You can feel your cock throbbing much harder than before and you know you are not lasting for one second longer. “I’m gonna cum inside you.” It’s more of a formality at this point, and you feel her nod—probably because her voice is too hoarse and her mind is too focused on your cock to formulate an actual sentence but it will do either way. Five thrusts you count and you see white; you can’t help the carnal groans of her name  coming out of your mouth as you empty spurt after spurt of thick, hot cum deep into her womb. To make her tight little pussy overflow with so much cum that they coat your cock and drip down to your balls and your bedsheets. Your toes curl and your fingers grip the bedsheet to prevent yourself from collapsing on top of her amidst your euphoric climax. There is absolutely no denying it, Danielle is your best fuck amongst the three.

You pull out beside her on the bed; exhausted, satisfied, and fucked. Danielle is the same and you can see a fresh, wet spot in between her legs along with your cum signaling that she had her own climax as well. She looks tantalizing and even more so when she turns to stare at you before scooting over to place a kiss on your lips. The way her sweat mists across her skin, the way her blonde locks compliment her extremely well. and the way her breast heaves ever so slightly when she attempts to breathe normally again is an absolutely stunning sight. It’s a soft makeout session this time, with her playfully nibbling on your lower lip and swiping her tongue across yours. “So, I hope I’ve made it up to you.”  A brief pause then you resume kissing again. “Because I know l’ve probably drained you more than my unnies just today alone.” She probably has a point but you are not going to give her any upper hand by acknowledging it so you remain in silence by shutting yourself up with her lips. You can feel her smile on your lips and you think that this is how your night ends but Danielle sneakily brings her hand down to fondle your balls and it looks like she thinks otherwise. “But I’m sure you still have one last load for me.”

She stands up from your squirt and cum-stained bed. Her perfectly sculpted body glistening under the warm lights of your room and her inner thighs still dripping with your cum. “Shower?” Then she turns around in perfect timing, showing her perfectly shaped ass that has you considering fucking her from behind again. It doesn’t take long for blood to rush back to your lower regions and you find yourself rock-hard once more—which is perfect because you found yourself pinning her against the shower’s tiles mere minutes later and trying to fuck whatever remaining load there is left inside her. Mission accomplished in that regard and you two actually spent the rest of the time taking a shower. It was a quick, but satisfying one and after giving her a shirt of yours to wear for the night she immediately falls asleep into your arms after a long and tiring hookup session. And as you watch Danielle peacefully sleep, your conversation with her earlier is repeated in your brain about having a soft spot for her and maybe you do because there’s no other way to explain how she’s the only one that can make you feel certain things. You wouldn’t dare fuck the other girls in your place, maybe opting for a cheap motel instead but you didn’t do it for her. And that’s maybe because deep down, you do have a thing for her. The complications of such a realization has not dawned on you yet but you do know that Hanni and Minji will not take it well. 

Yeah, you are fucked.

[coff33andb00ks]

world around us

summary: you're a candle in the window on a cold dark winter's night word count: 1k pairing: lando norris x oscar piastri x driver!reader (lilli. it's lilli) warnings: just pure fluff, slightly suggestive language(?) a.n.: final installation of my I need Lilli to have an amazing birthday series! this is once again for @maxlarens HAPPY BIRTHDAY LILLI MY LOVE!!! playlist: completely unhinged songs that fit the vibe

"No no no no no no no! You can't do that! You fuckin' muppet!"

Oscar mirrors your eye roll as Lando protests you placing a house on one of your properties. "She owns it though?" he says tentatively.

Lando scoffs, snatching up the guide and snapping it open. "The rules say–"

"I refuse to follow rules when you rolled twice so you wouldn't go to jail," you say with a huff, snatching the guide from him.

"I had to! One of the dice landed on the floor!"

"Oh but when we play golf I have to play no matter where my ball lands?"

"Yes." Lando gives you a look of disbelief, as though the idea of breaking a golfing rule is akin to murder. "It's not my fault you can't hit a ball straight."

"Just for that–" You slap more brightly colored money in front of Oscar - Oscar has to be the banker he's the most honest one among us - and grab a hotel to replace the house. "Suffer."

Lando groans, throwing up his hands. "You're cheating. I hate games night."

Oscar's grin shifts and he begins to chuckle. "We could play Trivial Pursuit?"

"No," Lando whines, picking up the dice to take his turn. "That game makes me feel stupid."

"Uno?" you suggest sweetly.

"No, we'll finish this. Capitalism is good to me, I'll make a comeback." Lando nods to himself as he shakes the dice. "Just shut up so I can focus."

And then, twenty minutes later–

"What d'you mean I owe you double the rent?!"

The rules are checked - well this is fucking bullshit - and he counts out all of his money to pay up. Suddenly capitalism sucks and he's clinging to his one property block and his cash like they're his lifeline.

You'll never know how (he probably cheated) but he wins. Monopoly money rains down as he celebrates and you fall back with laughter when Oscar flips the board in disgust.

You love games night. The silly playlist Lando put together plays, Disney movies play, muted, on the tv, and you've got them.

Lando and Oscar. Your biggest rivals on the track and your closest friends off. You're celebrating Oscar's first win this week now that summer break is here, enjoying the lazy days before you each take off in different directions to visit family and recuperate from an exhausting first half of the season.

"Loser cleans up," you remind Oscar and he groans as he gives you a kiss then begins picking up the mess. Lando's singing along to the latest country song he's obsessed with - Is it your heart or mine? Is it whiskey or wine? Is it somethin' in the night Makin' us wanna cross that line? - and he follows you into the kitchen to get more drinks.

"You sure you don't want to come along with me?" he asks, reaching around you to get a beer from the fridge.

"Let me see... Golfing with a bunch of men versus beach time with my best friends…" You hum thoughtfully, squealing when loops an arm around you.

"That can't be right. Me and Osco are your best friends," he says.

"Let me rephrase. Best women friends."

He's holding you close, swaying a little to the song playing - you think Oscar's the one who added ABBA, or maybe it was you - and you smile a little as you sway with him. He hums songs without realizing it and it's one of his more endearing habits.

"But I'll miss you," he murmurs, tucking his chin on your shoulder.

"I'll miss you too." And you will. This season you've grown closer to him. Literally, considering he finally talked you - and Oscar - into moving to Monaco. But also figuratively. You're just as rough on yourself as he is on himself, and with all the macho bravado that surrounds you every race week, it's nice to have someone who understands your being upset over missing out on a podium due to your own failings as a driver, your miscommunication with the team. It's rarer to have someone who understands shouldering the blame of the team's missteps – if I was better at this, they would trust my judgment but I'm not so they don't and that means—

"Not getting sappy on me are you?" Lando teases.

"You started it," you mutter. Turning, you wrap your arms around him. "We can live a few weeks without each other."

"I mean… You'll text right? Call?" he asks softly.

"FaceTime too," you promise.

It's tentative and new and so fucking scary but he gives you a soft kiss. Not your first with him, but it still makes your heart do that weird little flutter that it's only ever done with one other person.

"Jenga?" Oscar calls from the living room and Lando perks up instantly, nearly knocking you down in his haste to get back to the only other person he's going to miss during break.

Jenga with your boys is impossible. They're too competitive, know too many things they can say that make the other break and send the blocks flying.

"Oh of course he's going for the bottom, man loves to be at the bottom," Oscar mutters to you and Lando's giggling, covering his face with his hands as the tower collapses.

The games are abandoned, and you're squished on the couch between them, Oscar's lips on your ear, Lando's head on your stomach as the three of you, tipsy and relaxed, begin making plans for the last days of break while a Studio Ghibli movie plays. It's not said by either of you, but you already know that the three of you will find each other long before the break is over.

The world is easier to bear when it's the three of you together. It's still new, still tentative, still scary as hell, but it feels oh so right.

[hyukalyptus]

the willow tree — prince!yeonjun x servant!oc (mira)

cw. brief mention of the death of a grandparent, chubby!reader (rarely self conscious), exes to ???, unsupportive parents, dual POV, classism, mira is described as chubby and has long wavy hair, mira often wears dresses/thongs/etc, smut, sir kink, sneakin around, pet names (darling, babe, baby, love, my girl), lots of cunnilingus/bjs/handjobs, more specific content warnings before each chapter, NSFW/MDNI!!! notes. this has taken me forever!! i know i've been talking about this for so long and i really hope you love it. the poll said to post everything at once, but i put chapter headers so you wouldn't lose your place since its so goddamn long. anyway, enjoy!! wc. 26K im so sry

cw. yeonjun is a bit of a jerk in a flashback, classism, yj is an environmental activist and if u are a climate change denier, feel free to block <3, mira (oc) is described as chubby, yeonjun sneaks into mira's room (but not in a pervy way).

YEONJUN'S POV

Open your heart to the adventure ahead. I glare back at the cheesy quote slapped across the page-a-day calendar resting on my desk Mother gifted me last Christmas. The phrases usually amount to nothing more than fortune cookie wisdom or elementary classroom poster encouragements, and today's offering is no exception.

It’s plastered in meetings and to-dos I have today. One meeting is with a new landscape architect for the garden, another with Gemma about the upcoming quarterly dinner, and another with our ambassador about an upcoming international environmental meeting I’m attending later this year. 

Philanthropy has always been a forte of mine. No matter the cause, I can persuade the richest of the rich to contribute to the cause, I host grand fundraising events, and love speaking for what I care about. My pursuits have evolved over time, ranging from childhood health to advocating for mental wellness and combating food scarcity. 

It’s been difficult to choose what I cared about most, but I simply can’t commit all of my focus to every cause, no matter how hard I try. Within the last few years, my focus has been the environment—an urgent matter demanding action, even if I’m not a major contributor to the problem. Nonetheless, I certainly have influence over large corporations that do, not to mention my political influence. I've also cultivated a deep appreciation for the arts, advocating for universal access. Last year, I facilitated the donation of $125,000 worth of instruments to local public schools.

Outside of work, I like learning new instruments and artforms—right now, pottery and piano—and reading. And I love to travel. I always fly commercial—never private. 

“Honey, be in the common room in fifteen minutes,” Mother—the Queen—says at my door. She glows as her deep ruby chiffon dress flows with her movements, exuding royal, elegance, and authority. She finishes putting in her gold earring before adding, “We have a new hire.” 

Ah, the customary introduction of new staff. I finish watering the peace lily on my window bench before heading down the hallway.

Our castle is opulent yet sophisticated and contemporary. I genuinely love the peacock-green walls, the gold trim, the myriad of photos on the walls—memories of the Queen presenting awards, snapshots from my trips, simple portraits. Despite the grandeur of it all, it’s home.

The common room is large and well-lit thanks to the floor to ceiling windows. Lots of comfortable seating scatters the floor for when guests are over. A large Morisot painting hangs on the wall opposite the windows—brushstrokes full of energy and splashes of rich greens and blues. But it’s the simplicity I love about it. It’s why I bought it. 

“Good morning, Your Majesties,” Gemma states as she enters the room, fifteen staff people following behind her. Everyone does their obligatory bows and curtsies, something I never particularly liked. But I understand the purpose behind it. 

The staff stand in a straight line facing us, Gemma being the stiffest of all—she commands the room, adores perfection, and keeps everything in order. She isn’t my personal favorite staff person, but I don’t know what we’d do without her. 

They’re all wearing their boring uniforms—half are in drab grey frocks with white aprons and the other half are in drab grey suits. I’d rather they wear whatever they want.

Formal introductions like these aren’t to my taste. I like getting to know the staff on our own terms. Organically. But this is important to Gemma. It’s a sort of initiation, a welcome into the family. So I let her do what she needs to do, but I’m busy reminding myself of my to-do list.

Email Princess Everly about the upcoming benefitReschedule interview with Philanthropy DailyOutline Climate Week keynote speech

“As you know,” Gemma startles me out of my thoughts. “We’ve welcomed a new person to our team. I want everyone to give her a warm welcome.” Walking to the end of the line, she introduces her, “This is Mira.” 

Mira smiles softly with a curtsy that I’m assuming she learned to do in the kitchen moments earlier. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Ma’am,” she says, tilting her head toward Mother. “And you too, Sir.”

“Nice to—oh.” My mouth hangs open. What am I supposed to say again? Oh right, “Um…it’s nice to meet you too,” I finally murmur. That was embarrassing. 

Everything flashes across the movie screen in my mind—memories with her. The girl I fell in love with when I was a stupid teenager. The girl who stole my first kiss. The girl that was so sweet to me and treated me like any other kid because that’s all I was—a kid.

But she wasn’t just a girl to me. She was the first—only—person I was in love with. The girl I snuck out of the castle at night to go stargazing with. The girl I told all my secrets to. The girl I never thought I’d see again. How could I have forgotten her? 

Do you remember me?

Perhaps that’s all I was to her, though—a boy. Another insignificant teenage romance. Then again…how could she forget? We’d talk for hours about spending our lives together. She’d even picked out her favorite room in the castle that we’d move into together when the time came. It’s now the music room, complete with a piano among other instruments. 

We’d sit under her favorite willow tree in the garden eating red bean buns she’d brought back from the next town over when she’d visit her cousins. 

Have you forgotten? To be fair, It has been six…seven years. Wow. 

The room soon clears, except for Mira and myself. She paces around and smooths her skirt.

“Oh!” Mira gasps. “I’m so sorry. I thought everyone had left,” she says with an awkward curtsy. Simply shaking my head, I stay put. “...Is there anything I can do for you, Sir?”

“Nope…uh, no,” I start, fiddling with the edge of one of the couches before finally speaking up again. “Where are you from?” I’m testing the waters. Trying to see if she remembers me without coming straight out and asking. Honestly, I do this with all our staff: ask where they’re from, get to know them a bit. I don’t like having robots I know nothing about doing everything for me. 

“I’m originally from the next town over.”

Hm. Am I wrong? Maybe she simply looks a lot like my Mira. And has the same name. And the same gorgeous brown eyes. Perhaps I shouldn’t refer to her as my Mira anymore. 

“I’ve lived here since I was a kid though,” she adds. Ah, okay. That seems like something I should’ve known. Nodding, I open my mouth to say something else, but Mother calls me from a distance.

“Yep.” I stand up straight as a pin, turning to exit the room. “Be right there.” 

-

Rummaging through my drawers, I finally find it. The necklace I’d bought Mira all those years ago—a delicate circle pendant with an “M” stamped in the middle hanging from a delicate gold chain. She wore it everyday for six months. I can’t remember how I ended up with it, though. 

So, she’s real. At least that’s true. What should I do with it? I pace up and down the hallways clutching it, brainstorming about what to do with it. Perhaps I should simply walk up to her and ask her about it. Should I wrap it for her and give it to her as a present? Should I give it to Gemma to return to her?

“Oh, Gemma, I’m sorry,” I say, apologizing for almost bumping into her. 

“Not a problem, sir.” She curtsies and begins to walk away, but—

“Gemma?” She turns, holding her hands behind her back, awaiting my instruction. “Can you tell me where the new hire stays? I want to make sure I’ve got everyone’s rooms in order in my head.”

“Mira?” I nod. “She lives in room number six, sir.”

“Thank you.” I smile, but she simply waits. Ah— “Dismissed.” 

As I nonchalantly make my way to the staff wing, I keep an eye out for anyone who might be watching. Not that anyone would question me, but I don’t like people in my business. I eventually find her room in the same hallway as everyone else’s—a basic wooden door painted white with a brass “6” nailed to it—I hesitate before knocking softly. No response. I try again, slightly louder. Still nothing. On the third attempt, I test the door handle and find it unlocked. I shouldn’t be doing this. I’m just gonna get in, put the necklace somewhere, then get out. I won’t bother any of her stuff. 

But her room is so sweet. Plain and organized since she just moved in. A single photograph of her and her parents with who I’m assuming is her grandmother rests on the dresser. The bed’s made neatly. There’s a glass of water sitting on the bedside table. 

Ah, the bedside table drawer. That should be a good spot, but I find things that are way too personal in there and decide against it, respecting her privacy despite the fact that I’m breaking and entering. 

Hm…where to put it? Sock drawer? The windowsill catches my eye—a perfect blend of visibility and subtlety. I approach it, careful not to disturb anything, and hang the necklace on the window latch. It’s hiding in plain sight but still easy to find and doesn’t show that I rummaged through her drawers, which is a plus.

Now, we wait. 

-

A week passes. Radio silence. I haven’t gone back to her room to see if it's still hanging on her window, but I haven’t seen it around her neck either. Perhaps she threw it away and I should give up. 

Trudging through my bedroom door, I loosen my tie and toss my phone and wallet onto my bed. I attempt to rub the tiredness out of my eyes, but I’m exhausted. Thankfully, my dinner is already waiting for me on my dresser under a cloche. 

Next to my plate is a glass of ice water dripping in condensation along with a napkin and a set of cutlery. And resting right next to my fork is Mira’s necklace. The sight of it sends a jolt through my system. I knew she came into my room somewhat regularly—all the staff do—but thinking about her in my room makes me tingle. 

I sink onto the edge of my bed with a sigh as the chain slips through my fingers. When I first gave it to her seven years ago, her eyes lit up and her smile made everything feel right. I knew we were supposed to be together. That all seems so distant now.

Why didn’t she simply get rid of it? 

Maybe she hasn’t given up entirely and neither should I. 

It goes back and forth between us for a few weeks. After I found it on my dresser, I slipped it into her apron pocket. Then I found it between the pages of my notebook. The day after I wrapped it around the sugar bowl’s lid handle, it appeared wrapped around the handlebar of my bike. 

We never spoke a word of it. 

Every time I found it, it made me smile, but I knew this couldn't continue forever. I need to see her, to talk to her, to find out what was really going on. Does she want to talk to me? Does she hate me? Does she even remember me?

The next morning, I slip a note under her door. 

Meet me under the willow tree at 8. - Y

Every minute of the day feels like an eternity as I wait for evening to arrive. Doubt gnaws at me, but the thought of seeing and speaking to Mira keeps me sane. 

The evening air is cool and crisp. The sun has dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of deep blue. Waiting under the willow tree, I think about the many times Mira and I have sat under here and talked for hours, watching the stars as the branches swayed in the wind. We’d talk about our days, places we wanted to visit together, how I wanted to tell everyone about us but she was too hesitant. 

Minutes start to feel like hours as I wait, the silence around me amplifying my racing thoughts. What if she never comes? What if she didn’t get the note? What if she’s avoiding me? Does she hate me?

Finally, soft footsteps approach and I turn to see Mira, her silhouette framed by the dim garden lights. She walks slowly, like she’s dragging it out as long as possible. As she comes up to me, her eyes search mine. My heart races, there’s a lump in my throat. 

"Mira," I start, my voice barely above a whisper. She curtsies. “You don’t need to do that.”

“It’s my job, Sir,” she says flatly. Rocking back on my heels, I press my lips together. 

"I thought I’d return this straight to you,” I say, holding up the necklace. “It seems like it keeps getting lost.” I chuckle nervously, trying to break the tension.

“Thanks,” she replies flatly as she accepts the necklace. Oh my god, she’s gorgeous. I thought I’d memorized every detail about her, but seeing her now under the lamppost, it’s like I’m rediscovering her all over again. She’s beautifully chubby and always has been. Her long, dark brunette hair has a tint of red that makes it look like cinnamon. The wrinkled t-shirt and sweatpants paired with an old pair of flip flops tells me she either forgot about our meeting and got dressed in a hurry or wants to get this over with. Or perhaps both. 

“What can I help you with, Sir?” Awkward silence. 

“Mira,” I whisper, her name a fragile plea on my lips. She stares at the ground, avoiding my eyes. What was she expecting? For me to never bring us up? Of course I’d talk to her about it. “Mira Ashenrose, right?” She hums quietly. “I realized I never asked your last name since you started working here.” 

The silence between us is thick with tension. Memories flood my mind and I hope the same is happening to her. The last time we were here, we laid with each other for hours, so long that the sun started rising. She fit so perfectly in my arms. 

“I can’t forget you, Mira,” I say, stepping closer. “Why are you avoiding…us?” The space between us is charged as electricity swirls around us. “Remember us? All those nights we went stargazing? Our picnics? Those daisy chains you made me? You can’t tell me you don’t—”

“Of course I remember,” she interrupts, tears glistening in her eyes. My heart aches at the sight. “I remember everything, Yeonjun.” She wipes a tear from her cheek. “I remember falling asleep under this willow tree with you. I remember dancing with you. I remember kissing you before sneaking back into my house. I remember everything, okay?” Her voice trembles. “But that doesn’t mean I want to.” 

“What? Why wouldn’t you?”

She looks utterly heartbroken. “Don’t do this to me, Yeonjun. Stop being cruel.”

Her words punch me in the gut and everything comes rushing back. The reason we ended. I’d asked her to our annual ball—our first public appearance together. The Queen would find out. My royal friends would find out. The whole country would find out. She was a wreck for weeks leading up to it, but I reassured her every chance I got that it would be okay. 

She was—and still is—smart, incredibly beautiful, but most of all, I loved her. Why should anyone care if she wasn’t a royal as long as I was in love with her? That should’ve been enough. 

"Yeonjun, darling," my mother's voice sliced through the delicate hum of the ballroom. "I'd like you to meet Princess Penelope. She's your esteemed companion for the evening." Always so professional. 

“Nice to meet you,” I said, offering a strained greeting to Penelope before turning to face my mother.  "May I have a word with you in private?"

Graciously excusing herself, she left me to confront my mother amidst the grandeur of the ballroom. "Why would you do this? I told you I didn’t want to be set up.”

"I understand, Yeonjun," my mother replied with a tight-lipped smile. "But it's time you started considering your future—"

"My future?" I scoffed. "I'm eighteen."

"Exactly," she countered, her tone firm. "You need to think about a suitable partner. Someone who embodies the qualities of a Queen—dignity, wisdom, influence. And most importantly: royal,” she pointed a finger at me. “I won’t be around forever, darling.”

“Do they really need to be royal?”

My mother's smile widened, a hint of mischief glinting in her eyes. "Of course. Why do you ask?"

I swallowed what I really needed to say. There’s no way I’d win an argument anyway. With a resigned nod, I returned to Princess Penelope, the weight of my mother's expectations—and I suppose my entire country’s—heavy on my shoulders. So heavy I’d forgotten—

“Mira,” I said under my breath. There she was, staring at me in disbelief as I danced with Princess Penelope. Ignoring the questioning from Penelope, I abandoned her mid-step and made a beeline for Mira, my heart pounding with a mixture of dread and urgency. "Mira, wait!" I called out, desperation lacing my voice as I chased after her out of the ballroom and into the moonlit courtyard.

"Why, Yeonjun?" Mira's voice cracked as she finally turned to face me, tears staining her cheeks. "Why would you do this?"

"I had no choice," I confessed, my mother’s expectations running circles in my mind. “My mother made me.” 

"You could've told me," Mira interjected, her voice trembling.

"When?" I demanded, frustration bubbling to the surface. "I only found out thirty minutes ago—"

"You could've texted me.”

"I can't risk—"

"What, people finding out about us?" Mira's voice rose with each word, her anguish palpable in the cool night air. “Are you ever going to tell The Queen about us?” Squeezing the bridge of my nose, my eyes twist shut. “Well?” 

Looking at her—possibly for the last time—she looked absolutely beautiful. Her gown was perfect. Soft lavender satin that caught the light as it cascaded down the skirt, a glimmer of fuschia reflecting in the light. I wanted nothing but to hug her, to feel the satin on my fingertips. The sweetheart neckline was gorgeous on her, accentuating her frame perfectly. The M necklace rested around her neck. Her hair was absolutely perfect—she’d been trying out styles for weeks and the final choice was supposed to be a surprise.

“Answer me, Yeonjun.”

I couldn’t do that anymore. Mother meant what she said to me earlier that night: they must be royal. “Just go home,” I said, turning to leave her there alone. Breaking her heart was the best thing to do in the moment. If I could never truly be with her, breaking it off right then and there was the easiest thing for both of us. 

“What? Why—”

“What do you expect, Mira? You’re not royalty. You’re nothing,” I said. “Now go home.”

Too stunned to speak, I stare at her in disbelief. How could I have been so evil to her? What was I thinking? Why did I forget that? Must’ve blocked it from my memory. And now that I’m older, I’d never let some stupid outdated rule like that stand in our way. 

“I’m so—”

“Save it,” she says flatly. “I should’ve thrown away the necklace the first time I found it.” Straightening her posture, she wipes the final tear rolling down her cheek, shaking her head to rid of the emotions. “Let’s pretend this whole thing never happened, yeah?” 

Fine. If someone did that to me, if someone told me I was nothing after telling them they were in love with me for six months, I’d probably feel the same way, if I’m honest. 

As I accept my fate, I turn to walk away, but halt in my footsteps. “No,” I start. “I don’t want to forget this—that we ever happened.” She stays standing there, arms crossed, trying to control her breathing. But I hover over her, waiting for a response. “Please. I miss—”

“Don’t.” She snaps, shaking her head. “Don’t even think about starting that bullshit with me…Sir.”

“I told you, Mother set me up with her.”

“I don’t care about that. You told me I was nothing.” Speechless again, I can’t move. “You never even tried to contact me again and you expect me to give you a second chance?”

“That was seven years ago.”

“So?”

“I’m…we’re both so different. I used to be a stupid teenager. I would never— Please—”

“Please, what? What do you want from me?”

“I don’t—” Honestly, I thought maybe we could pick up where we left off, but I don’t know if that’s possible at this point. I hadn’t felt lonely until she showed up, drowning in my endless to do lists, barely ever hanging out with anyone that wasn’t on my staff or another royal. “I don’t know.”

“Maybe think about that first.”

cw. eating food. 

MIRA'S POV

On my days off, I hide away in a gazebo in a quiet part of the garden and sketch. It’s a nice place to escape to, away from everyone while staying close to home. Home. It’s still hard to believe this castle is my home, even if I am just a servant. 

The gazebo sits against a stone wall on one side—one of those that looks so old you wonder how it's still standing, withered with moss growing between the stones, vines going up and around it. The bench theoretically offers lots of seating, but most of it is covered in pots, plants, and gardening supplies. It’s more storage than an intended place to rest. 

My spot was bare when I found it and it gives me a full view of the grounds. To the right, our village is on full display—colorful, quaint, and inviting. To the left, a thick forest stands tall, leaves rustling with the wind.

Someone’s foot crunches the gravel as they walk toward me and my little corner, but I don’t react. As long as I stay relatively still and quiet, no one bothers me. I continue my sketch of those cute squirrels running around together under the willow tree I’ve always loved. Although it’s left a bit of a sour taste in my mouth recently. 

But the presence of a person looms behind me. Can’t I have one quiet day to myself? Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around. They’ll leave eventually. Maybe. Hopefully. 

“...Mira?” A familiar voice says, slow and undeniably warm. 

“Oh.” I stand up straight, giving my obligatory curtsy Gemma has ingrained in me since day one. 

“I told you not to do that,” Yeonjun—Prince Yeonjun—says. He’s dressed casually today, cute even. But don’t you dare tell anyone I said that. A simple maroon cashmere sweater that fits perfectly with his dark wash jeans that barely gather at his ankles, exposing his black vans. A short necklace of black beads sits around his neck. One of those outfits you’d see him wearing in a magazine with a caption like, ‘Royals – they’re just like us!’ 

“And I told you, it’s my job,” I say, returning to my seat, continuing my drawing. 

“Not right now though,” he says, clasping his hands behind his back. “It’s your day off, right?”

“You have my schedule memorized?” 

“No,” he chuckles, running his fingers through his shiny, black hair that I can practically feel on my fingertips. “Why else would you be hiding in my corner?”

“I figured you followed me—your corner?” 

“I wasn’t following you,” he says, walking closer before rocking back on his heels as he stops. “I read here sometimes.” He holds up a book. “You thought this spot just happened to be clear on its own?” I hum, scooting over and patting the bench next me. “You���re really okay with me here? I don’t want to bother you,” he says, as genuine as one can sound. But I’m still surprised. Sure, he’s not the demanding type, but I don’t know if I’d act the same if I were royalty. 

“To be fair, I was here first,” I say smugly. Although, he is still my boss. It doesn’t matter that we know each other from that past. I add a quick, “...Sir.” for good measure. “Go ahead and sit.”

“Don’t you hate me?” He asks and I chuckle, but when I look up, I see he’s serious. 

“No, I don’t hate you,” I say. “I’ve moved on, Yeonjun.”

Shrugging, he sits near me, opening his book. I tried to get a peek at the title, but I never got the chance without being too obvious. As he sits next to me, I must admit his presence adds a peaceful comfort to what would typically be a relatively silent, if not boring, morning. There’s even a sort of completeness. Birds seem to be chirping more harmoniously. The clouds have disappeared. Oh, what am I saying? That’s ridiculous. That’s a coincidence, Mira. 

“You still draw?” He perks up, pulling me from my thoughts. 

“Of course,” I answer immediately. 

“What are you working on?” Straightening on the bench, I riffle through some papers quickly, trying to hide any potentially embarrassing sketches I don’t want him to see. 

“Just sketches.”

He nods, curiosity etched on his face. “Can I see?” 

“Uh,” I clear my throat. “Sure,” I say, sitting one of my feet on the ground, turning toward him. Our knees brush each other for a moment, but I quickly move it out of his way. Smiling, he examines my drawing of my favorite willow tree I finished yesterday before bed. My cheeks flush as I remember why it was on my mind while drawing, but I hope he doesn’t draw that conclusion. 

“Ah, you’ve gotten so much better.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I chuckle. 

“I just mean,” he looks at me, eyebrows raised in defense. “I can tell you’ve been working on it, I dunno. How else would I say that?”

“That’s fine,” I say. Awkwardness fills the air as I shift my weight around. 

“I’ve been doing pottery, you know.”

I do know. But I’m not supposed to be listening in on their conversations at dinner. I can’t help I’m nosy. I simply ask, “Really?” Humming, he pulls out his phone. 

“This one just came out of the kiln.” He hands me his phone—I wonder what world secrets are on Prince Yeonjun’s phone—to show me a beautifully hand thrown vase. The body is smooth and cylindrical with a slightly tapered neck that gracefully flares out at the top. White glaze covers the surface, contrasting with the thick organic strokes of black glaze. Small, oval handles are attached on both sides. “I just learned how to do handles.” 

“Oh my gosh, Yeonjun…” My breath is taken away. I had no idea he was such an incredible artist. It looks like it was plucked straight out of a museum. “It’s gorgeous.” He always was one to do things perfectly—an all-or-nothing kinda guy. 

“Thanks,” he smiles, pressing his lips together. 

“Show off,” I say, lightly nudging his arm with my elbow.  

An hour or so passes and I’ve switched sitting positions several times, eventually landing on a classic leaned-back-against-the-wall position with my feet up on the bench so I can use my knees and thighs as a desk. He’s barely moved an inch though, sitting happily with his back pressed against the wall, one leg crossed over the other, reading. 

I barely notice my toes absent-mindedly tucking themselves under his thigh like I used to do when we were—

“Oh!” A servant that I haven’t learned the name of yet stumbles in on us, carrying a tray full of food. “I’m sorry—”

“No, it’s okay,” Yeonjun says, but I’m doing everything I can to hide my face. This can’t get back to the other servants. They’re all such gossips, which I guiltily love, but that doesn’t mean I want them gossiping about me. “Come on over, Natalie.”

“I swear I didn’t tell her about your spot, Sir,” Natalie says nervously.

“I know you didn’t. It’s okay,” he offers a gentle smile, reaching out for the tray, dismissing her after she curtsies, scurrying off quickly. “Don’t worry,” Yeonjun says to me. “She keeps all my secrets—she’s the only one that knows I come out here. She won’t say anything about,” he trails off, gesturing his hand between us.

“There’s nothing to tell.” 

“Alright,” he sighs. “You hungry?”

“No.” My stomach growls at the worst possible moment. 

“I kinda feel like you are.” I ignore him, focusing on my drawing. “I asked her to bring another meal. You can have it if you want.” 

Peeking over my sketchbook, the tray is fully decked out in sandwiches that look absolutely delicious; sides of mac and cheese and fruits, complete with two glasses of water and a little flower.

“I suppose I’m pretty hungry.” My stomach growls again at the sight of it. “Oh, ignore that; she’s been fussy all day.” I scooch closer to him hesitantly accepting the offer. 

“Mira,” Yeonjun starts. I hum, reaching for a pineapple slice. “Why are all the staff afraid of me?”

“Huh?” I look up at him.

“You saw how nervous Natalie was just thinking I might be mad at her.”

“I think you forget you’re a literal prince,” I say matter-of-factly.

“Are you scared of me?”

Hm. That’s an interesting question. No, of course I’m not scared of you. Why would I be? But perhaps the real answer is Yes, but in the way that everyone makes fun of when people say it out loud. Honestly, I am afraid. Afraid of falling for him again. Getting my heart broken again. We’ve barely talked since I started working here, but I know how convincing he can be. If I’m not careful, he’ll have me wrapped around his finger by next week. 

And let’s not forget he told me I was nothing. That kind of thing doesn’t simply go away. 

I wonder if he’s ever said something like that to one of the servants. Does he think all non-royalty are nothing? No, he wouldn’t be like that anymore. But how would I really know?

Shrugging, I finally say, “No.”

“That’s not very convincing.”

I roll my eyes, “I don’t know, Jjun—” I catch myself as that dumb nickname comes out of my stupid fucking mouth. What’s wrong with me? He looks at me with wide eyes. “Uh, Yeonjun…Sir.” Let’s just pretend like nothing happened. “You said some hurtful stuff to me. Have you said anything like that to one of them?”

“I don’t think so.”

“You could ask a servant if they’re scared of you.”

“I just did,” he points out. Right. I’m…a servant. I keep forgetting that bit when we’re alone. When we’re alone, it's like we’re friends. It’s casual and comfortable. See? What did I tell you? A few hours of silence followed by a few minutes of talking and I’m right back to where I was seven years ago. Stop being so pathetic. 

“Ah.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“No, I know,” I chuckle. “You’re right. But maybe ask a servant that seems like they’re scared of you. They’re probably scared of Gemma more than anything.”

As we wrap up our lunch, his phone buzzes—a calendar reminder probably. 

"I have to get going," he announces, moving efficiently to gather the remnants of our meal onto the tray. But as he stands to leave, an inexplicable urge pulls at me, begging him to stay. Please don’t do this, Mira. Don’t be stupid. 

With a gentle smile, he suggests, "I'll talk to you later?" It's then that I realize I’ve been staring at him in silence for the past who knows how long. "Oh, you have a leaf in your hair." I attempt to remove it myself, but without a mirror, it’s proving to be difficult. "Here," he offers, leaning down. My mind screams at me to resist, but his closeness sends a rush of warmth through my body. With gentle precision, he plucks the leaf away, discarding it casually.

Yet, instead of stepping away, he stays close. I pretend not to notice the magnetic pull between us. Stop it. Admit it. You want him to stay. Straightening my posture, we’re almost leaning into each other, like we’re about to—no. Our gazes dart between each other's lips, ghosts of his touch haunting my senses. Does he still taste the same?

The cool breeze snaps me back to reality. What were you thinking? "Thanks," I mumble, retreating to reestablish a distinct boundary.

"No worries," he replies. The fading sound of his footsteps on gravel leaves me facepalming.

How can I be this close to him without seeing him? Without falling for him again? There’s only one thing to do. 

Avoid him at all costs.

cw. sexual tension, suggestive.  

MIRA'S POV

“Didn’t you finish Mother’s painting in two weeks?” Prince Yeonjun asks, leaning against the doorframe to the sunroom. It’s become my makeshift painting studio. Once the Queen found out I sometimes do art, she thought it’d be a good idea to commission me for new portraits to replace the old ones in the Great Hall. I like painting and I need the money so I of course said yes. 

“Mm-hmm,” I nod, finishing up the final touches on the pattern of his royal cloak. “I’ve been busier recently,” I lie. In the painting, he sits with an arm resting atop a piano against a backdrop of rich velvet curtains like the ones in the living room. The intricate details of his uniform are perfect if I do say so myself. His face, though, is a grey blob with a basic sketch. I work off photographs for the most part, but for faces, I like them sitting right in front of me to get every detail.

But him sitting a foot away from me while I carefully analyze every detail of his face for hours does not sound like a good idea right now. Even if it does sound appealing. 

“You almost ready for me?” 

I should get it over with, but my hands are tired and I have a lot of tasks for my actual job to do before the end of the day.

“Tomorrow,” I say, walking my paintbrushes to the sink. “Does that work for you?” He’s quiet, so I look over my shoulder to make sure he heard me. Pushing himself off the doorframe, he shoves his hands in his pockets. 

“Y-yeah,” he says. “That should work.”

“Okay.” I wipe my paintbrushes with a towel. “Meet here after lunch?” Smiling gently, he nods. “Well, I’ve gotta get back to my real job. See you tomorrow,” I say with a curtsy. 

Tomorrow comes way too fast. I brush my teeth, floss, use mouthwash, and chew some gum to get rid of any trace of my lunch. Dragging my feet down the hallway, I can’t get there slow enough. 

“Ah, Mira,” he says with a smile that warms me from the inside out. I respond with a simple hello, but I’m already burning up as I gather my brushes and paints while he watches me in silence. I realize I’d forgotten to curtsy, but I decide to omit it this time considering he hates it so much. 

“The Queen sat on this stool when I painted her,” I say, moving the stool into place. “You might need to adjust the height.” While he does that, I mix a base for his skin. Starting by mixing the primary colors to get a deep brown, I add a good amount of white to lighten it up then a good amount of yellow and a touch of red for warmth. “Sit still,” I giggle, holding my palette knife next to his cheek. His shoulders rise and fall with his breathing while I add more brown to darken it a bit. Clasping my hands together, I say, “Alright, I’ll be painting for at least two hours, so do anything else you need to do.” 

“I’m good.” 

Shrugging, I adjust my easel so he’s in my sightline but not too close.

Two minutes into painting, he asks, “So how’s your day been?”

“Good. You?” 

“Good,” he responds. I truly don’t mind silence between us two, but I must admit this silence is deafening. “Do you work in silence or can you talk?”

I giggle and say, “I can talk. Or you can play music if you want.” 

“How about both?” I nod. “Alexa, play classical music to focus,” he pauses, waiting for it to respond and start playing. “Tell me what you’re working on.”

“Well,” I start, swishing my brush into some clean water. “I’d already had a basic sketch of your face, but I made some skin tones first. A base, a highlight, and a shadow,” I say, showing him my palette. “Then I’ll go in and fine tune everything.” 

Time passes by—I’ve honestly always liked simply existing near him. We used to do this all the time back when we were dating. Sit near each other and just be. Quietly. Like the other day in the garden when I was drawing and he was reading. It’s peaceful. I can focus. 

It smells like that day in here—soil and paint. Whoever keeps up with these plants is great at their job. They’re gorgeous even in the winter.

“Now I’m working on your eyes,” I say matter-of-factly. Part of me starts with his eyes to get it over with and avoid them as soon as I can, but the other part counts myself lucky that I have reason to stare at them for the next thirty minutes or so. I mix a deep, cool brown and dip my pinkie into it to hold it up next to his eye. “I’m, um,” I glance down. “I’m gonna touch your face.” My pinkie rests on the apple of his cheek so I can get as close as I can to his eye without touching it. “Open your eyes.” 

Damn. Those eyes are like mirrors reflecting my deepest emotions. The world around us fades. I almost drop my palette. Glimpses of our history, our laughter, tears, and dreams we’ve shared together swirl around in them. They take my breath away. 

Realizing we’re staring at each other, I snap out of it, jerking my hand away from him and dive into painting them instead of gazing into them. 

“First try?” I hum in question. “You got the color of my eyes right on the first try?” My ears warm up.

“Well, you know…” I say, my head hanging low. “They’re the same as the Queen’s.” Lie. The Queen’s are much warmer. Hues of deep mahogany and amber; they’re vibrant with hints of gold and copper that catch the light. They glow in the sun. His, on the other hand, are intensely dark. Deep and rich like shadowy moonlight. You could get lost in them like a maze at night. They’re like reading a book by candlelight. They’re gorgeous. 

“Why do I need to be here again?” He asks and I look jokingly offended. “I mean, you worked off photos up until now.”

“So I can get the details of your face I might otherwise miss,” I say, closely examining his face. “Like this freckle,” I say, poking the freckle on his right cheek with the end of my paintbrush that I would never miss in a million years. It’s one of my favorites. “Or this little birthmark.” He’s got the slightest purple splotch on his cheek that again, I’d never miss. 

“You’re painting those?”

“Of course,” I say. “They’re part of you.” Out of the corner of my eye, I catch him grazing his fingertips over his cheek, smiling to himself. “Move closer.” Examining his features even closer, I’m a few inches from his face. I, again, realize I’m staring at his face and my heartbeat quickens. I snap back and say, “Um…sorry.”

“You’re okay.”

But this keeps happening. I keep getting close to him, our hearts beating together as our breath gets sharp. And fuck, I miss him. I can’t help but think about if I were doing this for fun, not as a staff person. I used to draw him all the time. 

And now, here he is, grown up, mature, tall, and utterly handsome as I’m forced to paint a larger-than-life portrait of the guy I used to love and thought I’d spend the rest of my life with. I was such a stupid eighteen-year-old. 

He doesn’t stop staring at me. Not when I add details to his nose. Not when I clean my brush. Not when I observe my painting from a distance. I catch his glare. 

“Can you stop staring at me like that?” I ask, a smile teasing my lips. 

“Like what?”

“Like…” I cock my head to the side. 

“Like you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen?” Ah, fuck you. The warmth that rushes through my body is overwhelming and I swear my knees are ready to buckle. My hands tremble as I fight the urge to drop everything. “I don’t think I can stop that, Mira,” he adds softly. 

“You can’t say shit like that to me, Yeonjun,” I manage to say, my smile stubbornly betraying my attempt to stay cool. I keep my eyes on the brush, pretending I’m not seconds away from screaming. 

“Why not?” he murmurs, leaning in closer, his breath warm against my ear.

“Because…” I finally look over at him, incredibly close to me, eyes flitting all over my face, indiscreetly hovering on my lips. Admittedly, my eyes do the same: land on his lips and suddenly the only thing I’m thinking about is kissing him. “Because…” I repeat, trying to get me to do literally anything but kiss him in this moment, but we both know that’s the only thing either of us want. Each other. To be together. 

I try to remember what his lips feel like. Strong and passionate. At least they used to be. 

How have they changed now that he’s older and has most likely gone through a few serious partners and several hook-ups? Are they softer and more loving now that he’s not a dumb ego-ridden eighteen-year-old? Are they even stronger now that he’s found himself and has solidified his position as a Prince? I wonder. No. Don’t do this. Oh, but why not? 

In one ear, the wise and cautious version of me begs me to refrain from kissing him. Don’t do this, Mira. Remember how heartbroken you were. Mixing romance with your boss is a terrible idea. 

The more rebellious, lust-ridden version of me counters, Look how much hotter he’s gotten. Just make out with him. The Queen is your boss, not him. You could always make out with him, maybe even fuck him, and pretend like nothing happened. 

Wise Mira gasps, That’s mean! 

Right, Lustful Mira says. But he was mean to her. 

Listen to me, Wise Mira chirps up. Don’t kiss him at all. 

Lustful Mira chimes in again, But Mira…look how absolutely delicious his lips look. You want him. He clearly wants you. Don’t you wanna—

“Because I said so.”

He chuckles, “Fair enough.” 

cw. brief mentions of alcohol, cunnilingus, fingering, mira briefly feels self conscious about her body and pubic hair, mira lies to a stranger, begging, yj sneaks into a room she's in, sir kink. 

MIRA'S POV

"What are you wearing friday?" Hyomin casually asks, a knowing smirk on her lips as she effortlessly dusts the coffee table while I clean the windows—the newbie’s job. 

"Aren't we supposed to wear our uniforms?"

"Oh no, darling! The quarterly dinners are the sacred day we break free from the uniform chains—as long as it’s formal." Hyomin is one of few servants I genuinely like. Most of the others are constantly trying to play the game to move up the ladder—none of them really want to be friends. 

The ones that aren’t too busy playing the game are too on edge, following each rule to the letter. 

Yeonjun—Prince Yeonjun, I correct myself for the millionth time—unexpectedly knocks on the door. I, Hyomin, and Natalie perform our obligatory curtsies, even though I know he hates it. If we don’t though, Gemma fusses at us, which he also knows, so he plays along.

"Excuse me," he says, clearing his throat. "Could I trouble someone for a refill on my coffee?"

Natalie, always willing to volunteer, seizes the opportunity and responds quickly. "Certainly, Sir." She breezes by the coffee table to scoop up the metal coffee pot resting on it, returning to the Prince to pour him a fresh mug. 

Our eyes catch each other, a small yet obnoxiously noticeable smile appears on both our faces. Hyomin nudges my arm and mumbles, "And you've gotta wear something extra special for him, right?" What? My eyes widen, shock and annoyance evident in my expression. Shooting a piercing glare at her, I’m rendered momentarily speechless. Hyomin persists, her voice low, "Oh, don't act all innocent. I've seen how you two look at each other.”

I scoff and roll my eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about."

A mischievous smile plays on her lips, "It's adorable, really. The blushing, the hair-tucking when he says hello, the clumsy encounters,” she says, tilting her head toward him. “Look how red his ears are.” I must admit, they are pretty pink. “We all talk about it, you know.”

“Did Natalie say something?”

“No,” she says confused, but her look soon turns suspicious. “Why would she?” Damn it. Why didn’t I keep my mouth shut? I avoid eye contact, hoping she’ll give up, but I doubt she ever will. “Mira, why would Natalie say something?”

“No idea.” 

She hums knowingly. "Yeah, right. You two are so obviously dating, it’s ridiculous,” she says, folding the decorative blanket that hangs on the back of the couch while he leaves the room. “We're all waiting for the announcement."

“We are not dating.”

Persistent as ever, Hyomin challenges again, "Look me in the eye right now and swear you haven’t at least kissed him."

I stand tall, smoothing the skirt of my uniform, then take a deep breath and lock eyes with her. “I swear I haven’t kissed him.”

Hyomin narrows her gaze, searching for any crack in my expression. My stomach churns, and before I can stop it, the words spill out in an unfiltered confession.

“…in seven years.”

Damn it. How did she get that out of me?

“What?”

“Shh—!”

“But wh-what do you mean?” She giggles, eager to hear what I’m assuming is the best gossip in years. Although, with royals, there has to have been something juicier than a teenage romance, right?

Motioning for secrecy, I say, “Promise you won’t say anything to the other servants. Please.” Hyomin nods, an expression that practically screams, Spill it. “We knew each other when we were teenagers. We dated then, okay? We broke up seven years ago. I’ve barely spoken to him since.” 

“Oh. My. God. Oh my god, ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod!”

“Calm down.” I hold my hands up. “It’s no big deal.”

“No big deal? It’s a huge deal,” she exclaims. “Y’all are totally still into each other.” 

“I mean, he’s cute,” I say. “But that ship has sailed.”

“Oh really?”

“Really.” I nod. “We’re just too different.”

“I dunno, I think—”

“Nope.”

“I just mean—”

“Drop it, Hyomin. It will never happen.” My words carry a finality to the discussion.

“Fine,” she concedes, folding her dust rag to place on the table. “The question still stands—what are you wearing Friday?”

Shrugging, I shake my head, “I don’t have anything formal.”

“A perfect excuse for a shopping trip—let’s go into town tomorrow,” she suggests. “I’ll get someone to cover for us for the lunch service.” 

-

“Ah, look at you!” Hyomin cheers. “You’re absolutely stunning.”

“I can’t remember the last time I got this dressed up.” Actually, I do. That night. The night he broke my heart. But I’m not thinking about that right now. In fact, I won’t be thinking about Yeonjun at all tonight. 

Walking down the stairs into the royal hall, the silk of my dress rustles gently as it shimmers in the light. It’s a gorgeous deep viridian that cascades to the floor, creating an ethereal effect with every move I make. The bodice is fitted perfectly, with boning that snatches my waist and makes my tits look amazing. The off-the-shoulder straps elegantly drape across my arms. To complete the look, I’m wearing gold dangle earrings and my hair is styled in loose waves that cascade down one of my shoulders. Around my neck is a delicate circle pendant with a moon stamped into it. 

It’s simply beautiful in here. I’d helped set it up this morning, but seeing the guests dressed up, hearing the musicians playing, the grandeur of it all—it takes my breath away. The air is filled with the soft murmur of conversation with an occasional loud laugh. 

One couple glides along the dancefloor in each other’s arms, both of their dresses flowing gracefully across the dancefloor. A group of young people wearing crowns and tiaras clink their glasses near the champagne tower. Someone else checks their jacket at the front door. 

Deep emerald velvet curtains drape along the walls, adding even more drama. Every detail of the Hall has been meticulously curated to evoke a sense of luxury. 

“Excuse me,” someone says as they brush my shoulder. “Oh.” It’s Yeon—Prince Yeonjun. “Hello.” I nod to him before my obligatory curtsy. Not even trying to hide the fact that he looks me up and down, he makes my cheeks burn. “You look…” He clears his throat. “Um, really pretty.” Well, there goes me not thinking about him at all tonight. How could I put him out of my mind when he looks like this? Positively sexy as hell in his prince uniform. So regal, rich, and powerful. 

“Thank you, Sir,” I say. I catch Hyomin out of the corner of my eye looking stiff as a board with her mouth hanging open. 

Extending his arm out, he asks me, “Care to dance?”

God, I’d fucking love to. How did he do this to me so quickly? We have one nice conversation, maybe a few glances in the hallway and suddenly he’s making my heart race like he did when we were dating. “I don’t think it would look very good for either of us if you were dancing with one of your servants.” Is that even true? I don’t know. 

He nods, pressing his lips together. “I’ll see you later then?”

“When?” I ask as he raises an eyebrow. I hope I didn’t sound too desperate. “I just mean, I don’t know why we would see each other.”

“Right,” he says. “Well, have a good evening.” He nods gently at me and then to Hyomin before walking away. 

Turning to Hyomin, she looks at me with a wide smile and knowing glare. She’s such a smug bitch. “Oh my god,” she gasps under her breath, drawing the edge of her wine glass to her lips. “Look at Prince Sipho over there.” Tilting her head to the side, she adds, “He may be even dreamier than Yeonjun.”

I scoff in my head, but I’d never tell anyone that. Instead, I murmur, “Where?”

“Right over there,” she smirks, tipping her head toward a literal tall, dark, and handsome man. Commanding the room with his height, he undeniably catches my gaze—not an eye contact that stops time in its tracks, but one where we can’t take our eyes off each other. 

Prince Sipho pushes his way through the crowd toward me, but I can’t help but wonder where Yeonjun is. Actually, why do I care at all? Shaking the thought out of my mind, I welcome this new prince’s hand reaching for my own as he delicately touches my knuckles with the poutiest part of his lips. I suppose he’s too much of a gentleman to fully press them to my skin. 

“May I have this dance?” He asks, looking up at me through his eye lashes. So formal. Quickly glancing at Hyomin, she gives me an eager nod. I guess the servants will have something to gossip about later. At least that’ll replace the conversations about me and Yeonjun. 

“Yes, you may,” I say, returning the formality. We do all the obligatory dancing things—hand on my waist, mine around his neck, holding each other’s free hands. Slowly stepping with the classy romantic music of the string quintet, he admittedly looks stunning in his formal wear—baby blue with gold trim. The baby blue brings out the radiant sapphire undertones of his deep brown skin, the gold showcasing the warmth of his amber irises. 

“So,” he starts, his voice deep and rumbling. “Who am I dancing with?” 

Without any hesitation, I lie, “Charlotte.”

“Well, Charlotte,” he says. “You’re on Prince Yeonjun’s staff?” I blink up at him with confusion etched on my face. How did he— “The rose?” He asks, tilting his head toward my chest where a delicate ivory rose is pinned to my dress to differentiate us from the guests in case someone needs something from us. 

“Ah,” I giggle. “Yes. Yes, I am.” Where is he anyway? No. I’m not dancing with Prince Sipho to make Yeonjun jealous—I’m dancing with him because he’s hot, seems sweet, and seems to think I’m hot too. Why would he be watching anyway? This is his party. He’s probably busy schmoozing with some high-stakes donors or some other royals. 

Prince Sipho’s hand glides down to the spot right above my ass—he’s really testing the boundaries, huh? I love it. But guilt twinges my heart. Half of me hopes he isn’t watching this and the other half hopes he is. I don’t know which is worse. 

A loud crash brings the room to a halt and I try to locate where the accident is, but Hyomin waves me over. “Damn it,” I murmur. “I’ve gotta go…clean that up. Excuse me.”

After rushing to clean up the broken glass, I return the broom to the closet that’s three times the size of my bedroom. I take my time putting it back—a break from the hustle and bustle of the party is very much needed right now. The click of the deadbolt jolts my heart. 

A million things run through my mind. A creep is in here with me. Hyomin locked it from the outside and forgot about me and now I’m locked in until someone remembers to come get me. How long am I gonna be in here? Is someone in here with me?

“Hello.”

“Oh,” I say, relieved. “Hello, Sir.” I curtsy, tilting my head toward Prince Yeonjun as he steps into the light. Why is he in here anyway? I’ve been trying so hard to avoid him since the garden when we almost—nevermind. But he’s weaseled his way into my life. Telling the Queen I paint so I’d paint those portraits of them—yeah, I saw right through that bullshit. Bumping into me earlier tonight. But there’s nowhere to run now. We’re utterly alone. 

That’s terrifying. 

He’s never looked at me like this. Dark pupils dilated with lust and desire. It makes my heart race and I stumble back, tripping over some old cardboard boxes, but I catch myself on the countertop. 

Walking toward me, he keeps his hands in his pockets, but manages to box me in, cornering me and standing tall over me, intimidating and somehow…safe. I know he’d never hurt me. Physically at least. But I also can’t wait to see what he does next. 

“So it’s okay for you to dance with Prince Sipho but not me?” His voice grumbles with the low hum of the music right outside the door. 

“I’m not one of his servants,” I say matter-of-factly. “Why do you care anyway?” I ask cheekily as he creeps closer and closer. So close I’m fully backed into this counter now, almost sitting on top of it. “What are you—” 

“Can I kiss you?”

“No,” I answer quickly. 

“Mira…” he sighs. “How can you expect me not to kiss you when you look like that?” That makes me feel things all throughout my body that I definitely shouldn’t be feeling for ex-boyfriends, especially an ex-boyfriend that’s also my boss. And the prince of my country. 

My mouth parts and I swear I tried my best not to lick my lips. “Don’t kiss my mouth,” I say. I told Hyomin I haven’t kissed him in seven years. At least that’ll still be true after whatever happens next. 

Reaching for my hand with his white-glove-clad one, he places a gentle yet devastatingly sensual kiss to the back of it, looking up at me through his eyelashes like Prince Sipho did moments ago. But he had nowhere near the effect Yeonjun has on me. I bet he can smell the nail polish from when Hyomin painted it on my nails a few hours ago. As his perfect pouty lips kiss my hand, I can’t help but wonder how those lips would feel in other places. 

“You look—” he stops for another kiss on my palm. “Absolutely—” then the pulse-point of my wrist. “Stunning.” Then inside my elbow. Making his way up higher, my breath hitches in the back of my throat. “As usual,” he adds. 

That fucker. 

He’s always been like this. Silky smooth then sugary sweet. It gives me whiplash. 

Eventually, his lips explore my collarbone. “You’re so warm.” I don’t know how I got up here, but I’m fully sitting on the counter now. His hands are all over me—brushing my upper arms, grazing the smooth satin of the dress that covers my thighs, digging into the folds of my hips. 

How did this happen? How did I go from dancing with one Prince—a perfectly nice and gentlemanly prince—to sharing this romantic…something with Prince Yeonjun? Something because it’s not a kiss, it’s not more than a kiss, but it’s certainly not less than a kiss. It’s…something. 

His palm brushes the side of my breast and he stops himself from pushing any further before he whispers in my ear, “Can I touch you?”

“I think you already are.”

Firmly squeezing my tit over my dress, I groan as my back arches. Oh my fucking god. Is this real?

Something in his body language switches at the sound of my groaning and he drops everything to get to his knees. He pushes the skirt of my dress up and past my thighs, looking up at me for permission.

Is he…? 

My pussy clenches around nothing at the sheer thought of those gorgeous plump lips around my clit. I let him explore further with his lips without any hesitation whatsoever. Then they’re inside my thighs, slowly moving closer where I desperately need him. Nerves fill my stomach. Flashbacks of other guys going to taste me and not liking what they find enter my mind. Is that gonna happen with him? Is he gonna be turned off by my hair? My stretch marks? The way my fat thighs cover his ears?

As much as my inner feminist hates those thoughts, there’s always that twinge of embarrassment that I still haven’t managed to work through. 

“Yeonjun…” I sigh. “You don’t have to.”

“What if I want to?” He asks. “Do you want me to?” Obviously. I nod. Pressing his lips to the outside of my panties, he breathes me in and I realize he’s never been this close to me. Ever. 

Sure, we’ve kissed, but we were teenagers, we had no idea what we were doing. It never got this far. Never got past the occasional makeout session on my picnic blanket under the willow tree. “You smell so good.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, shut up.”

“I’m serious. You smell delicious.” 

Lips delicate and careful, he takes his time. I never thought this is how it would be with him. I always thought of him as the kind of guy to get straight to it. At least that’s how I imagined it—him embracing me because he couldn’t take it anymore, he needed me right then and there. Whisking me off to his bedroom to undress me, never careful, never delicate. 

But I love it. Love taking a deep breath, letting my head lull back onto the wall behind me, my entire body relaxing. The feeling of a tongue flicking my clit for the first time in months, and the first time it’s his tongue. I card my hand through his hair, gripping some strands between my fingers. Mouth dropping open, I sigh, looking down at him, eyes closed, fully entranced by my taste. Thank fuck he knows exactly what he’s doing now. 

The softness of his white cotton gloves feels like heaven against the heat of my thighs, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want his bare hands on me. 

Like a mind-reader, he plucks his gloves off, one finger at a time, putting me under a spell as he goes. I stare at him as he loosens the glove by pulling on the pointer finger, then the middle, the ring, his pinky, then tugging it all the way off. It’s so sexy. I think I caught a small smirk, but it's just dark enough for it to be hidden. 

The tip of his finger teases my entrance and I can tell— “Fuck,” he gasps. “You’re so wet, darling.”

Don’t call me that. But I can’t bring myself to say it out loud…I’m not even sure I’d mean it if I did. He finally pushes his finger all the way inside me, curling the tip of it to find just the right spot that makes me absolutely moan. He lets go of my skirt to grip my thighs, finally feeling him squeeze and touch me after all these years of wanting him. I beg myself not to stop him and make him touch me everywhere before continuing. 

My pointer fingers graces his and he intertwines his fingers with mine. Something this intimate only happens between lovers, right? Holding hands while fucking in the closet when there’s a party right outside the door? I can’t decide if this is the dirtiest thing I’ve ever done or if it’s the most romantic thing. 

Arguing with myself internally, a second finger breaches my entrance, filling me even more so than before. He’s incredible…almost skillful with his fingers. It’s sexy. And exciting. 

Expertly flicking his tongue, he finds the perfect spot with his fingertips, forcing me to buck my hips…fuck I’m so close already. How did he do this to me?

“Please…”

Everything comes to a halt. “Please what?”

“Fuck, Yeonjun, don’t do that to me.” 

“Don’t do what to you? Get you to talk to me?” I look down, defeated. How am I supposed to respond to that? Is that the only reason he’s doing this? Because I’ve been avoiding him and this was the only way he could think of to get me to talk to him? “Tell me what you want. What are you asking for?” Oh. It’s like that. Okay. 

“Please…” It’s already unbelievable that we’re doing this in a closet with a party going on outside. Prince Yeonjun is on his knees for me. And he’s making me beg? I can hardly take it. “Uh…” I stutter, trying to close my legs instinctively. He backs off, eyebrows furrowed. He’s worried about me. I didn’t mean it like that. “You’re not finished yet, are you?” I ask, pushing him back closer with my heel. 

“I’ll finish when you tell me what you want.”

Gracing my finger under his chin, I force him to look at me in the eye before saying, “Make me come. I need it so bad. Please.”  

Cocking his head to the side, he says, “I’ve always wanted to hear you beg for me.” 

My chest heaves as he dives back in for more, flicking his tongue the way I love, thrusting his fingers in and out of me. 

“Fuck, you feel good.” 

“You are delicious.” I’d love it if he could talk to me the way I—and hopefully he—likes. Dirty, up close and in my ear, but this’ll have to do for now. He can get to the real good stuff later. Will there be a later though? 

A white-hot feeling that someone hasn’t made me feel in quite some time quickly approaches. Deep in the pit of my stomach, it bubbles as my body tenses, breath shallow and quick. It builds and builds until all I want to hear him say is Come for me, darling. I know you’re so close. But I know he won’t. He has to stick to the matter at hand. 

With a sharp inhale, I moan and whimper, euphoria washing over me as my thighs tighten around his head. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt this good. He’s incredibly talented—like I said, he’s an all or nothing kinda guy and I love that about him. 

“Fuck. Oh my god,” I gasp, my hips rolling needing more, more, more. Goddamn, I’m in trouble. “Holy shit.” I trail off, my breathing shallow. My eyes squeeze shut as my head drops back before my body starts flinching. “Thank you, Sir.”

My body goes slack as he slows down. Once I catch my breath, my eyes flutter open to see him looking at me with a cheeky smirk. He’s so fucking smug. 

“Sir?” 

Shit. That is just about the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to me. I’ve been correcting myself for weeks, reminding myself to call him Prince Yeonjun, Your Majesty, Sir. I know he hates when I call him that, even in normal scenarios. I can’t imagine how mad he is now that I’ve called him that while giving me an orgasm. Not just any orgasm, though. One of the best I’ve had in months. All while wearing our formal wear too. Fuck, he looks so sexy in his uniform. Especially with it slightly disheveled, hair messy, gloves off. 

“It must’ve slipped.”

He simply stands, darkness and lust still in his eyes as his hands grip my hips, squeezing harshly before moving them up further to my waist. His right hand trails up even higher, cupping my face to force my ear to line up with his lips. “Call me that again next time.” Next time? There’s gonna be a next time? “Got it?”

Speechless, I compose myself before whispering, “Yes, Sir.”  

cw. cunnilingus, mentions of previous bjs and hand jobs, mira is described as chubby/fat/curvy in a good way, hickeys, biting, masturbation.

YEONJUN'S POV

“Mira,” I say simply as she walks by me looking gorgeous as always. Since our little rendezvous in the butler’s closet last month, we’ve “seen” each other several times since, each meeting ending with at least one of us coming. Nothing beyond oral and hand stuff—we still haven’t kissed or seen each other fully naked yet—but even so, it’s been amazing. She’s so good at it all. The teasing, the touching, the talking, all of it. I don’t think I can pick a favorite moment.

Maybe when she asked me to give her hickeys on the inside of her thighs. Her whispering, Give me hickeys, please…wanna look down and imagine you’re there after you’re gone. Oof. Chills. 

Or maybe when she laid her back against my chest and I rubbed her clit so perfectly, she dug her nails into my forearm for dear life, so hard it broke skin. I had to wear long sleeves for three days. 

Perhaps her seeing my cock for the first time, eyes wide as she said Oh my god, Sir. You have a beautiful cock. No one’s ever called me beautiful before, let alone my dick. That made me giddier than I even thought possible. 

“Yeon—Sir,” she quickly corrects herself in case anyone’s listening. Glancing around, we’re the only ones nearby. “You look nice. New uniform jacket?” I nod. 

Tonight’s occasion is much less grand than our first night together. A simple gathering with a few royals. It was the high-stakes donors I was hoping to get some money from tonight, but they’re all donationed-out it seems. 

“You look…” I look over her, never subtle about ogling her. “Absolutely stunning. New dress?” She subtly tilts her head. I stuff my hands in my pockets. What’s the point of delaying it any more? “I need to taste you again.”

“Already? You ate me out yesterday.”

“What can I say?” I chuckle. “I’ve got a craving.” She takes a deep breath before nodding at me, not changing her facial expression. “Closet, five minutes?” 

The closet isn’t the only place we’ve had our meetings but it is definitely our most frequented spot. Honorable mentions include the library, the sunroom, and under the willow tree where she laid back against me. That was only once but it was magical. 

As she turns away, I can’t help but wonder what the rest of her looks like. She’s got what feels like the most perfect ass, but I still haven’t gotten a good look at it. And her tits…good lord what I’d give to bury my face between her bare tits. 

“Prince Yeonjun?”

“Ah, Prince Sipho,” I say, returning his bow. “Nice to see you again.” He holds his hands behind him and maintains his intimidating eye contact. “I hope you’re enjoying dinner.”

“Can I ask for a favor?” He asks, almost urgently. 

“Sure.”

“I saw you were talking to Charlotte,” he says. “I danced with her last month and I never got her phone number.” His expression softens. “I realize how awkward and potentially inappropriate this is considering she’s on your staff. Would you mind providing me with her phone number?”

“I’m sorry,” I begin. “I don’t think I know a Charlotte.”

“You were just speaking with her,” he says matter-of-factly. “Right over there.” He tilts his head in the direction of…Mira? Happily prancing off in the direction of the closet. Our closet. Oh no. 

I suppose I should’ve seen this coming. Someone was bound to be interested in her at some point. I just didn’t think my competition would be another handsome prince. What am I saying? Competition? Stop being such an ass.

“You can ask her yourself, you know.” 

“Fair enough.”

“I don’t think now’s a good time though,” I rush to say, stopping him in his tracks before he turns around. “She’s busy. I just sent her to do a task.”

“Then I suppose you should give me her number now, then?”

After a few seconds of awkward silence, I finally speak up to say, “I’ll talk to her first. You know, make sure she’s comfortable with me giving out her phone number.”

“Of course.” He tilts his head and walks away. My mind races with questions. Did he sweep her off her feet? Have they slept together? Or worse: have they kissed? Why does he think her name is Charlotte? But I’ve gotta get back to the matter at hand.

“You’re already ready for me, hm?” I ask, seeing her proudly sitting on the countertop, waiting for me. She nods cutely, wiggling her feet back and forth. Locking the door, I take my gloves off one finger at a time before stuffing them in my pocket for safe keeping. Then I loosen my collar a bit, something I know she thinks is hot, so I always make a show out of it just for her. 

As I step closer, she grips the edge of the counter so tightly the veins on the back of her hand pop out. She crosses her ankles and looks down briefly but puts on a brave face to stare me in the eye. Wrapping my arms around her, I bury my face in her neck and breathe her in. 

“You smell so good.” I’ve noticed she’s started wearing a specific perfume for special occasions—the gala last month, dinners like these, she even wore it once when she shyly asked me to eat her out again on a random Tuesday. 

“Thank you, Sir.” Never taking my lips off her neck, I feel all over her, albeit over her dress, but she feels lovely. Dropping to my knees, I lift her skirt up to access her thighs with my lips, placing kisses everywhere. And there they are—those gorgeous hickeys I gave her last week. Still there. I swipe my thumb across one before biting her skin gently.

“Can I ask you something?” She hums as I move closer and closer to her center. Glancing up at her, her eyelids have fluttered shut and her hands are in my hair. “Do you know Prince Sipho?” Her hands stop.

“I know of him,” she says plainly. “Why?”

“No reason,” I say, nudging her thigh with my nose to encourage her to open wider. I add, “Said he danced with you and I guess he likes you.” I place a kiss on the outside of her thong right between her pussy lips. “Asked me for your phone number.”

“Did you give it to him?”

“No.”

“...Oh.” She leans back, resting her hands behind her back for support. Is that a good oh or a bad oh?

“He thinks your name’s Charlotte though.” I chuckle. “What’s that about?”

“I don’t know,” she says awkwardly while I dig my fingers into her thong, pulling it down her legs, still watching her body language carefully. “That’s weird.” 

“Mira.”

“Fine.” She rolls her eyes, but still welcomes my lips around her pussy. “I dunno—I wasn’t interested so I gave him a fake name. Doesn’t everyone do that?”

“Mm…I suppose,” I say, spreading her lips to flick my tongue against her clit. Fuck, she tastes amazing. Every fucking time. Her hand flies to my hair again, taking quick breaths. “Why wouldn’t you be interested in him?” 

“Can we not talk about Prince Sipho while you’re eating me out, please?”

“I was just curious.” 

Why wouldn’t she be interested, though? He’s definitely her type—tall, handsome, smart, royal. 

Images of them dancing together, arms wrapped around each other, his hand sliding further down her back make my vision red. 

Maybe she’s interested in someone else with those same qualities, perhaps even more devastatingly handsome than him. And hilarious, might I add. 

But thinking about her dancing with Sipho while thinking about me makes me giddy. When else does she think about me? When she’s eating breakfast? Doing her chores? Getting ready to go to bed? In the shower? When she touches herself? Oh. That sends shivers down my spine. 

“How often do you think about me, Mira?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, when do you think about me?”

She takes a deep breath, letting her head fall back against the wall, the slightest smile flashing over her lips before she says, “When I’m horny.”

“So you think about me when you touch yourself?” 

Her fingers stop again and she looks up, eyes wide like I caught her doing something she shouldn’t have been. I’d never let her see it, but I’m giggling on the inside. She’s so cute. 

“Um,” she clears her throat. “I guess, yeah.” There’s a looming awkward silence while I keep licking her. She’s trying not to react to how good it feels. Trying not to give in. 

“Well, go on.”

“What?” Mira asks. 

“Tell me,” I say. “Tell me exactly what you think about.” She takes a deep breath to collect herself, like she’s trying to hold back her noises and movements. I don’t like that she feels the need to do that with me. If anything, I crave hearing and feeling them. “It’s okay, you can tell me anything.”

Her breath hitches, eyes flitting away before locking back to mine. "I think about you touching me," she admits quietly, but I can tell she’s gaining confidence. "The way you did the first time.” She bites her lip, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink. "I think about your hands on my body," she continues. "The way you knew exactly where to touch me, how to make me feel..."

"How to make you feel what?" I prompt, my hands gently caressing her thighs, urging her to keep going while my mouth is nowhere near her pussy.

"How to make me feel good," she breathes out, her eyes closing as she loses herself in the memory and the feeling of my tongue on her clit. 

“Do you miss it? ” I ask, my breath hot against her skin. "Do you miss me when I’m gone and can’t make you feel good?”

She nods, her breath sharp and quick. "Yes," she murmurs, her voice trembling with desire. "I miss it so much." My hands continue to explore her body, relearning every curve and contour, desperate to rip this dress off her, but we haven’t crossed that boundary yet. 

"What else do you think about?" I ask, my voice a gentle command.

“The way you taste.”

"And how do I taste?" I ask, my lips ghosting over her skin, teasing her with the promise of more.

"Salty," she whispers, her voice hitching. I can’t tell if she means— “That’s a good thing.” I smile against her skin, relieved while my hands squeeze her thighs. “But I mostly think about your mouth. How good you are at this. Those hickeys you gave me have certainly come in handy.” 

“How so?” I slide two fingers inside her and her breath gets quicker. 

Groaning, she says, “Looking down at them turns me on so much.” She swipes her hand across them. “Thinking about us sneaking around like this. It makes me feel…dirty.” She giggles. “Is that cheesy?” I shake my head and start licking her clit again. “They need to stop assigning me tasks while you’re around.” I hum in question. “The other day they made me clean the studio while you were in your pottery lesson—why it couldn’t wait, I don’t know—but it was too much,” she says. “Watching you with your sleeves pushed up, your hands on the clay, oh my god, you were so hot. You had me hot and bothered all day long.”

I genuinely had no idea. She does a great job of hiding that. Little does she know, I was stealing glances of her that whole lesson—I don’t remember a single word my instructor said. The only thing I was looking at was her body, her curvy thighs, full breasts, squishy tummy, the greatest ass I’ve ever seen and I haven’t even seen it bare yet. “What did you do afterward?”

She hesitates, tensing up, holding back. “I don’t wanna say.”

I stop in my tracks. “Tell me.”

“No,” she whines. “Don’t make me.” Refusing to speak or look down at me, I pull away from her, looking at her like, I’m not gonna keep going until you tell me. With an insatiable eye roll, she finally speaks up, “I thought about you.” I look at her again like, That’s not enough and you know it. “Fine,” she says. Of course, if this truly bothered her, she knows our safe word. Tapping her fingers on the counter before bashfully looking away, she admits, “I thought about you while I touched myself.”

Satisfied, I give her a kitten lick on her clit, making her gasp. 

“I, uh…I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, at the hickeys you gave me.” I start licking more and more, rewarding her for talking. “I thought about what it would look like if someone walked in on us while you did this to me. Or what someone would think if they saw the hickeys you gave me.”

Her hips start to roll and I know I can’t speak anymore. Because that would mean taking my mouth off her pussy, which neither of us want. Instead, my grip on the fat of her thighs gets harsher and I stay steady with my mouth, knowing this is the exact speed and pressure she needs. 

“I thought about you ripping my dress off but then slowing down to take my thong and bra off,” she says. Well, that’s new. We’ve never mentioned anything further than this. Does she want something more than this? 

“About you pressing your bare chest against mine,” she adds breathlessly. “You licking my tits.” Her thoughts and words start speeding up, like she’s telling me not to stop no matter what. “You tapping my clit with your cock.” Oh my god. She wants to do things like that with me? Fuck. I can’t show how giddy that makes me, not right now at least. 

Her hands hold onto my hair for dear life. Her moans pitch up and increase speed, like a chant, getting louder and louder. “You fucking me from behind,” she says. “Fucking me so good I can hardly take it.” She’s so close. “Until—until…” She's panting, clearly right on the verge of reaching her orgasm. “I’m coming so good for you,” she whispers breathlessly. I can feel it when her thighs tremble, when her clit pulsates against my tongue, when her nails dig into my scalp. 

Catching her breath after she comes, she finishes off with a sweet, “Thank you, Sir.”

cw. more yeonjun environmental activist, suggestive, cheesy idk. 

MIRA'S POV

“I can’t believe you did this,” I spit at Yeonjun, messily packing my old beat up carry-on. He refolds one of my t-shirts and hands it to me. 

“I thought you’d be excited to go.” 

Scoffing, I put a fist on my hip and face him. “I’m going as your servant.” He rolls his eyes before shoving his hands in his pockets. “All the other servants already think there’s something going on between us. Requesting me for your dumb business trip is gonna look suspicious.”

“Dumb?” He’s visibly offended. “This is an important business trip for me.”

“Still. They won’t shut up about this for months and you know it.”

“I thought you said there was nothing to talk about,” he says smugly, but I ignore him. “Look, I knew you wouldn’t act all servant-y the whole time, okay? Mother insists I take someone, but I’m a grown-up. I can do things on my own,” he says. “I knew you would be…normal, I don’t know. You wouldn’t curtsy, be on edge, or call me Sir.”

I stop in my tracks to look him in the eye and ask, “Except for when you want me to, right?” I hadn’t thought about what we might do at the hotel while we’re gone. Would he invite me to his room so he could taste me? Would he surprise me with a knock on my door? Would he text me to meet him somewhere else? I don’t know but I admit I’m excited to find out. 

The next morning, I hoist my suitcase into the trunk of the town car while the chauffeur, Eston, opens the door for me. I’m greeted with a sleepy “Morning,” from Yeonjun as he hands me a travel mug full of coffee that I didn’t ask for, but I’m definitely grateful for. 

“We’re taking the same car?”

“Of course,” he says. “Less cars on the road.”

Oh my god, he looks so cute with his sleepy eyes and messy hair. Although he flies commercial everywhere he goes, he wears every disguise possible: hat, face mask, hoodie with the hood up, you name it. We get to go through security privately though, which is nice. 

After our long flight, I want nothing more than to crash into a nice, warm bed—actually, any bed will do. It’s still light, but it’s evening and I’m ready to go to bed early. While he handles check-in, I scroll through my phone—international data plan paid for by the Queen, thank you very much. 

On the elevator, I ask , “Which floor am I on?” 

“Seven.” I nod, reaching for the seven button on the elevator, but it only goes up to six. There’s only one above it, which is labeled ‘Penthouse.’

Wait. “Did you only get one room?”

“Well…”

“Yeonjun!” I scream-whisper. “What is wrong with you? What did you think—”

He holds his hands up to clarify, “It has two rooms, okay? I wasn’t trying to…I dunno, make anything happen. It seemed easier.” 

The room is truly magnificent. Luxurious gold silk drapes frame the windows to let light flood the room. Sofas and armchairs surround a marble fireplace—cozy yet regal, just how Yeonjun likes it. An intricately carved coffee table sits in the middle of the room holding a vase of fresh flowers. There’s even a piano sitting in the corner. 

The view from the terrace takes my breath away. The gorgeous blues of Lake Geneva and the snow-capped alps are gorgeous. The air is crisp and clean and refreshes my lungs from the inside out. I lean on the railing, letting the cool breeze brush against my face as calmness washes over me.

“Gorgeous, huh?” Yeonjun asks as he stands beside me, his eyes scanning the horizon. 

“This is fucking incredible,” I say, my gaze never waiving from the beauty of the landscape. 

“I knew you’d like it,” he says. I glance over at him and he gives me a warm smile. 

“You’ve been here?”

“I’ve never stayed in this hotel, but I’ve been to Geneva, yes.” 

There’s a silence. Like we both know we want to do something, but we’re unsure of exactly what. Go in for a hug? No. Let him wrap his arm around me? No. Kiss him? Absolutely not. We can’t fall into that relationship space. The tension presses down on us, unspoken but palpable.

“Well, I’m exhausted,” he says, breaking the silence. “Did you wanna take a shower first or…?” 

“You can go ahead,” I say as I walk through the room, planning to unpack a bit first. Extending my suitcase’s handle, I ask, “Where’s the other room?” He grimaces, avoiding my gaze. “What?”

“Don’t be mad,” he starts, but I’m already visibly mad. “I must’ve looked at the website wrong.” I brace for the inevitable while he braces for my reaction. “This is it.”

“Seriously, Yeonjun? One bed?.” This is not gonna turn into a cheesy only-one-bed-left story. Nope. I won’t let it. “You better get me another room.”

“I already called and they’re out.” I’m fuming. “I’ll sleep on the couch,” he says. My face softens. I didn’t necessarily want that. “Really, it’s okay.”

“Yeonjun,” I say, guilt in my voice. 

“Mira, it’s fine. Really. It was my mistake, so I’ll take the couch.” 

“Okay,” I say. “I guess you can’t do stuff on your own, then, huh?”

-

The next morning, I wake up in this giant bed. Alone. The smell of coffee is already wafting through the air. Stretching under the covers, I sit up to see Yeonjun on the terrace, reading a newspaper. Not on his phone—a literal printed newspaper. I don't even know where he got it. 

An adorable little prince sitting there with his luxurious silk PJs, fuzzy slippers, messy hair, and the cutest pair of glasses anyone’s ever seen. Before joining him, I pull a hoodie over my tank top.

“Aren’t I supposed to get you your coffee?” I ask, admiring the view of the lake. 

“When you wake up on time, yes,” he says, not looking up from his paper while he pushes up his glasses. 

“I…I’m sorry,” I say, forcing myself back into my professional persona. 

“No, it’s okay,” he chuckles, sitting his coffee on the coaster and looking at me. “I wasn’t trying to be bossy. You seemed like you needed sleep. And I can get my own coffee,” he says. “Besides, today is a day off. You can get me coffee tomorrow.” I nod. “Did you have plans today?”

“I dunno…maybe I’ll draw by the lake or something.” 

“I’m kayaking on the lake and having a picnic lunch if you want to join me,” he suggests. “You can bring your sketchbook.”

-

The lake shimmers like a bed of gems, crystal-clear waters reflecting the sunlight in brilliant shades of blue. As we paddle alongside each other, our rowing is rhythmic until we reach a small pebbled shore on the other side of the lake.

Yeonjun jumps out first, standing up in the water to pull his kayak to shore. He’s so charming with his crocs and shorts short enough to expose his muscular thighs. The t-shirt he’s got on is somehow the hottest thing I’ve ever seen him wear, perfectly accentuating his pecs and clinging to his biceps. And the cutest lake hat sits on his head, making me absolutely giddy. 

Without having to ask, he pulls my kayak in so I don’t need to step in the water or pull it up myself. He offers his hand to me with a smile, my fingers lingering a bit too long after I stand to my feet. 

While I set up the blanket on the pebbled shore, I ask, “What’s tomorrow’s meeting about?”

His eyes light up while he unpacks our picnic. "Tomorrow's meeting is with the Global Environment Facility," he begins, settling back against the kayak, pouring some juice into two glasses. "We're discussing several things, but we’ll be focusing on keeping our water clean.” He tilts his head toward the sparkling Lake Geneva in front of us, its pristine waters a reminder of the importance of this endeavor. "Access to clean water is a fundamental human right," he says passionately. “But there’s so much…crap in them. You know 26% of the world doesn’t have access to safe drinking water?” My eyes widen. “And so many beautiful oceans and rivers and lakes like this one keep getting trashed.” 

His dedication is contagious, and I find myself leaning in, captivated by his words. "It's more than policies and proposals," he continues. "It's about creating real, tangible changes that will protect our planet.” He smiles, a mix of determination and hope in his expression. "I mean, I dunno…it’s a big goal I guess,” he says, glancing down in embarrassment. 

“Seems like you’re actually doing something about it.”

“We’re at least trying to make change happen.”

Sitting on the blanket, I fest my legs out in front of me with my hands supporting me from behind. He hands me a glass while he sits criss-cross next to me. “You seem really passionate about it,” I say. 

“I am,” he nods.

A comfortable silence settles over us as we enjoy our meal. Afterward, he takes his book out of his backpack, reclining back to rest his head against the kayak. I take out my sketchbook and pencils, setting it up against my knees and thighs. 

I try to focus on capturing the serenity of the lake, but my eyes keep drifting to him. His presence is so comforting and I’m reminded of that every time we’re alone like this. Watching him, I can’t help but think about what it would feel like to rest my cheek against his chest. Warm. Strong. Safe. 

“Yeonjun?”

“Hm?” He looks up at me from under his hat, but I don’t know what to say. After a few seconds of silence, he sits up completely and asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I stutter, returning to my drawing. 

An hour or so passes—I’ve made great progress on my drawing and it seems like he made a nice dent in his book, but the sun’s setting fast. 

“We should probably go soon,” he notes. “We shouldn’t kayak in the dark and it’ll probably take an hour to get back.”

-

“Everything okay?” Yeonjun asks, startling me on the terrace. I hum, avoiding looking at him. He looks too good after showers—hair damp and skin pink from the hot water—so I better not take a peek. I’ve clipped my wet hair up—it holds its waves better that way. 

“I’m finishing up this drawing I started at the lake. Adding some watercolor.” 

“Is that me?” He asks, pulling the other seat around to sit next to me. 

“Yeah,” I nod awkwardly. “I just drew what I saw.” I say, giving in and glancing at him while he smiles to himself as he examines the art. 

Seconds pass before he adds, “I had a lot of fun today.”

“Me too,” I say, my arms crossed. He’s so, so close to me. 

“Yeah?” I hum. “Since you showed me this,” he says, gesturing to the drawing. “I’ll show you this picture I took of you,” he says, reaching for his phone in his pocket. Leaning even closer to me, I feel his warmth. I must say I look pretty. My hair’s windswept, I have a nice pink in my cheeks, and I look genuinely happy looking out over the water. His fingers mindlessly touch mine while he looks at me. “Thank you for coming with me,” he says. “You know, on the picnic.”

“No worries,” I say. 

“I think I’m gonna head to bed,” he says, not moving an inch. Oh my god, he looks so kissable right now. I can’t believe how long we’ve gone without kissing each other even once. I didn’t think we’d last one week after we started…whatever we’re doing. Hooking up? 

Regardless, I’m relieved. We should not be starting something right now. He’s my boss. My boss and my ex that broke my heart. 

But we’re leaning in closer and closer, like we’re about to—don’t you dare. I catch myself first. 

“You can, uh…you can sleep in the bed with me if you want,” I whisper. He shakes his head and starts to protest. “Really, it’s okay. Swear. It’s a huge bed.”

cw. brief mention of the death of a grandparent, yeonjun environmental activist, eating food.

YEONJUN'S POV

As I make my way toward the grand conference hall, the weight of responsibility settles on my shoulders like a heavy cloak. Today's meeting is a pivotal moment in my advocacy work and I need to be right on. I love this though. Speaking for what I believe in. Convincing people. And admittedly, sounding smart, which I am.

Glancing over my shoulder, Mira follows close behind me, which is what she’s meant to be doing. It still sends shivers down my spine. Our return to our professional roles after our idyllic kayaking excursion feels strange, but duty calls and we both have our parts to play. I square my shoulders and quicken my pace, the marble floors echoing under my feet. 

With a final glance back at Mira, she offers an encouraging smile and asks, “Ready?” I take a deep breath. “You’re gonna be great.” She opens the door and I step into the grandeur of the conference room. The air is charged with energy, a palpable sense of purpose radiating throughout the room. 

Taking my place at the head of the table, pride and excitement surges through me. This is it—the moment I’ve been preparing for, the chance to make a real difference.

-

Coming back home—hotel room—I’m exhausted but exhilarated. As I’m about to collapse onto the couch, a knock at the living room entryway wakes me up. 

“You hungry?” Mira asks, flipping through the room service menu. 

“Order whatever you like.”

“What would you like?”

“Anything’s fine. I’m not picky.”

After she places the order on the phone, we chat about the meeting a bit, but it isn’t long before the conversation gets lighter. We laugh about our kayaking adventure yesterday, recalling the near-disaster when I almost tripped into the water face first. The room service arrives promptly, and we dig into our meal. 

"So, tell me," she says between bites of her spaghetti, "what got you interested in environmental advocacy in the first place?"

I lean back, chewing the bite of pizza in thought. "I guess it started when I was a kid. You remember how much I loved nature even back then.” She nods. “Whenever I got stressed, I’d go outside—you know, for a walk, camping, whatever, and one day, I looked around and only saw wealthy people and it was one of those moments where I realized how lucky I am,” I say, not breaking eye contact. “Access to nature is a fundamental human right. It’s already inaccessible to many and it’s only getting worse.”

She nods. “It's easy to take it for granted.”

“It was something I’d never thought about,” I chuckle. “I was a fucking prick back then.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, a little too easily. She’s not wrong though.

“As I got older, I started to see the impact of pollution and climate change. I knew I had to do something, even if it was just a small part."

We continue talking late into the night, sharing stories and dreams, discovering new facets of each other's personalities. It’s in these quiet moments I cherish that I get to see some real parts of her, like in the garden, when she painted my portrait, when we went kayaking. 

“What’s something you’re passionate about?” I ask. She presses her lips together and shakes her head. “Nah, come on, you gotta be passionate about something.” Shrugging, she shakes her head. “How about your art?”

Smiling to herself, she asks, “What about it?”

“Why are you an artist?”

She leans back, tracing patterns of the fabric on the couch with her finger. "This is cheesy but when I look around, I see colors, shapes, emotions. When I draw or paint or whatever, it's like I'm putting pieces together, creating something whole. It’s not about making something beautiful, but capturing a moment or a feeling, things I can’t say out loud,” she says, glancing around the room bashfully. “Or whatever.”

“Not or whatever. You need to give yourself more credit.”

She nods shyly, looking down with a grin. "I remember this painting I did. It was of an old barn, you know, out of town a bit. Everyone thought it was just a pretty picture of decay. But it was about resilience, how even in decay, there’s a story that refuses to be forgotten, even if it can’t speak for itself or if no one’s listening but me.” I nod. “That’s what I really love. Finding those moments that only a few people notice. It’s like saying, ‘Hey, I see you and I feel this too.’” That’s amazing. She’s never spoken so candidly like this with me before. “Like when you asked if I was gonna paint your freckle and your birthmark, like, of course I am! That’s a part of you and I see you, you know?”

I chuckle with her. “Do you have a favorite piece?”

She thinks for a moment. “Probably a painting I did of my grandmother’s hands. She was a seamstress, and her hands were always so busy, always creating. When she wasn’t sewing, she was sketching, measuring, creating patterns. It was my way of honoring her, capturing her essence. Her hands have so many stories to tell.”

“That’s sweet.”

“Yeah.” She nods. “She was the one person in my family I really wanted you to meet back then.”

“Invite her over for dinner some time,” I suggest. 

“She, uh,” She clears her throat. “She passed a couple years ago.”

“I’m so sorry.” She waves her hand. “I would’ve loved to have met her.”

“It’s okay.” But her eyes are tearing up just a bit. She blinks them away and adds, “She meant so much to me, but I guess that’s…how things go.”

“Where’s that painting now?”

“It’s back home, like, my home home, not the castle.” 

“I’d love to see it.”

“I’ll find it the next time I go back home and bring it back with me.” As the conversation winds down, we sit in comfortable silence as the city lights cast a soft glow through the window. "I should probably let you get some rest," Mira says, breaking the silence.

I nod, feeling a pang of reluctance. "Yeah, we have another busy day tomorrow."

She stands up, but before she leaves, she turns to me, her expression gentle. "Goodnight, Yeonjun. And thank you for tonight. It was nice to just...talk."

"It was,” I reply. “Let's do it again sometime."

cw. cunnilingus, protected sex, mira’s body is described as squishy/chubby in a good way, mention of moles and vvv brief mention of armpits, toys, body worship, masturbation, pet names (darling, love, babe, baby).

YEONJUN'S POV

After another grueling meeting, I’ve ditched my tie and unbuttoned a few of my shirt buttons while Mira has completely changed into lounge clothes back at the hotel room. Out of the corner of my eye, I sense her watching me, leaning up against the wall. But I let it slide. I don’t think she realizes how often she does it. 

“How did today’s meeting go?” She asks. 

“You were there.”

“I know, but how did it go from your perspective?”

I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the day's events fresh in my mind. "It was intense," I start, a mix of relief and excitement in my voice. "We covered a lot of ground. Like I said, we talked about keeping waters clean.”

“Did you all come up with any new ideas?"

"Actually, yes," I say, a spark of enthusiasm igniting. "We talked about implementing advanced watershed management and enhancing wastewater treatment technologies. But what really stood out was the proposal for a global initiative to reduce industrial runoff. It's ambitious, but the potential impact is huge."

She nods, clearly intrigued. "Was everyone on board?"

"For the most part," I reply, recalling the lively debates. "There were a few moments of contention, especially when it came to funding, so I’ll be doing a lot of fundraising for awhile, but everyone agreed they seem like good ideas.”

Mira's smile is warm and encouraging. "I'm glad it went well.” Her words, simple yet heartfelt, warm me up. She finally pipes up again to add, “You looked hot up there.” 

I chuckle. “Yeah?” She nods. “What makes you say that?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she starts, walking closer to me. “How smart and passionate you are. That’s hot.” That is exactly what I was hoping she’d say. I kept catching myself stealing glances of her during the meetings. It was hard to tell if she was looking at me to look at me or because that’s technically her job. Even if it is her job, I can tell between her different looks—her checking in look, her secretly admiring me look, and her I need you and I need you now look, which might be my favorite.

The look she’s got on her face is starting to lean toward that last one, but she’s not quite there yet. I only observe, let her fall into that place if she wants to.

“Well, thank you,” I tilt my head in her direction before the piano behind her catches my attention. “You know, I’ve been taking piano lessons.” She hums. Sometimes I forget it's also her job to know everything about me—everything about my schedule and activities at least. “You still like classical music, right?” She nods gently, a slight smile constantly on her lips. 

I’m not the best at piano, so I start fumbling through Moonlight Sonata. Giggling through every wrong note, she brushes some hair away from my face. 

“Ah, I need the sheet music,” I say quietly. Wiping my sweaty palms on my thighs, I know she’s still staring at me with look number three: I need you and I need you now. All professionalism has gone out the window. The biker shorts she’s wearing outlines her stomach perfectly, her thighs barely bulge at the hem, and her tank top accentuates her breasts beautifully. She’s a stunner. 

I reach for her hand and drag my thumb across her knuckles. My hands rest against the backs of her thighs, pulling her closer so she steps between my legs, my hand moving to her backside, squeezing her so deliciously. Her hands rest on my shoulders as I bury my nose between her breasts, taking a deep breath. She always smells so goddamn amazing. 

“I need you,” she whispers as her fingertips drag across my scalp. 

“I know, darling.”

“No,” she chuckles. “I need more from you this time,” she says breathlessly. I stand up straight, looking down at her as she looks at me through her eyelashes. “I need you inside me. Please.” 

“Of course,” I say, diving straight for her lips, but she turns her head, so my lips crash into her cheek. 

“Did I say you could kiss me?” Picking her up, I let my face rest in her chest again as I carry her to the bed, praying I don’t trip over anything along the way. As I sit her down on the mattress, she says, “Kiss me everywhere but my mouth, okay? Everywhere.” 

I don’t wanna argue with the no kissing rule right now, so I simply nod, covering her neck with kisses while I tug her shorts off her legs. Holding her leg by her ankle, I press my lips to it, trailing it all the way up to her thigh while her hand slips under her thong. I’m looking over her body, closing my eyes for a few seconds at a time, but I can feel her eyes on me. 

“Everywhere, babe,” she reminds me. Babe? I decide not to mention it—don’t ruin the moment. I slowly lift her shirt, but she gets impatient and takes it off herself, throwing it somewhere before tugging at the hem of mine, hinting at me to ditch it. 

My lips land right above her bra, kissing and nipping the tops of her breasts. I literally can’t wait to see her completely, so I waste no time in snapping it off and taking a second to admire her. Then, I gently kiss her neck and feel her whole body with my hands. Warm, soft, welcoming, curvy, squishy, perfect. 

When I squeeze her tit for the first time, she moans, arching her back while I sloppily stamp her collarbone with my lips. I want nothing more than to lick her nipples—it’s all I’ve thought about for the last few days—but…I dunno. I’m nervous. 

“Jjun…please,” she starts. There’s that nickname. It made my heart sing when she accidentally called me that a couple months ago. It used to slip past her lips so easily when we were together all those years ago, but now she stays so formal. “Lick my nipples, please.” 

Tongue flicking her nipple, her eyes roll back as her body follows. As I kiss further down her body toward her tummy, she reaches for my hair and pulls, making both our breath quicken. She takes the liberty of taking off her own thong and I get rid of my pants. 

We’ve been desperate for this. Desperate to actually feel each other’s bodies. Not clothing-clad bodies, but bare, vulnerable, warm bodies that want each other. And I can’t get enough. I thought I could taste her forever, but now that I’ve gotten my hands on her, on her squishy, chubby body, I’ll never be able to keep my hands off her.

She starts to get impatient, but I’m not finished with her yet. Landing back on top of her, I say, “Lemme just…kiss on ya for a second, okay?”

“Not my—”

“Not your mouth, I know,” I say, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek, trailing down her jaw and sneaking in to nuzzle her neck. Whispering into her ear, I tell her, “I love making you gasp like that.” She chuckles, wrapping her arms around my shoulders, but I grab them and put them over her head to continue kissing her everywhere, tasting each bit of her with the tip of my tongue before pressing my lips to her. Her collarbone, her shoulders, her underarms. Everywhere.

She’s got the cutest mole on her side of her breast I kiss three times before moving on. 

A smile tugs at the corners of her lips when I gently kiss under her breasts. I lick a stripe up her chest between them, making eye contact with her, followed by a harsh bite of one of them. Reaching for her arm, I kiss her palm, then gently suck on the tip of her pointer finger. 

“Remember when you painted that portrait of me?”

“How could I forget?”

“When you put this pinky on my face,” I say, sucking on the tip of it. “I thought I was gonna explode. Feeling you so close to me like that. You looked so pretty that day too. With the sun shining in through the window and the plants around you.” Okay, shut up dork, too many feelings. I squeeze her tits harshly, burying my face in them. “Fuck, you’re so sexy.” 

Rubbing up and down her sides, she scrunches her shoulders, letting out a giggle. I kiss and bite her tummy—I’ve always loved her stomach, but especially so when she wears biker shorts. The way the fabric pulls, creating an outline of her tummy with rays of fabric going toward her hips. It’s one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen. And to finally see her bare tummy right here in front of me, there’s no way I’m not gonna cover it in kisses. 

“Why are you being all touchy?”

Why wouldn’t I be? Spreading her lips, she looks absolutely delicious. I lick her clit, earning one of the most gorgeous moans I’ve ever heard come out of her mouth. 

“I told you, Sir,” she says. “I want all of you this time.” 

“I know. I’m just tasting you, darling.” I glance up at her. “You thought I was gonna fuck you and not taste you first?” 

Grinding against my mouth, she can hardly take it before she starts begging. “Please, please, please, Yeonjun. I need your cock inside me. Please. I need it so bad.” 

“You’ve never had to beg like this before, hm?”

“Nope,” she says. “People usually do what I ask.” Standing, I leave her briefly for a condom that’s in my toiletries bag in the bathroom. When I come back, she asks, “Prepared, huh?” I nod awkwardly. “Wait, wait,” she stops me from rolling the condom down myself. “Let me see you.” I stand back, letting her look at me in awe before she reaches her hands out, rubbing all over my chest and stomach, kissing my hips, squeezing my balls and licking my nipple, making me gasp. 

Taking a deep breath, I admit, “I want to fuck you so bad, Mira.”

Sitting up on her knees, she reaches for my hand and places it on her breast before leaning into my ear to whisper, “Then fuck me, Sir.” Then, she takes the condom and rolls it down my cock, drawing out the process as long as she possibly can. “Your cock is so fucking beautiful,” she says. “I’m still not over it.”

She lays on her back and spreads her legs while I think of all the things I wanna do to her. I really wanna kiss her, but I can’t. She’s right. We shouldn’t. Resting between her legs, I rub my hands over her body again, taking my time contemplating, even if she protests, claiming I’m teasing her too much. But she teased me, so now I get to tease her. 

Honestly, I can’t believe this is happening. I thought we’d never get past oral in the closet. I line myself up with her entrance, bending to press my lips to her neck and whisper, “Are you sure?” 

“Yeonjun,” she says, placing a hand on my cheek to force me to look at her. “I’m sure. Are you sure?” 

“Absolutely.” 

As I push into her slowly, my whole world comes crumbling down around me. She is perfection. The way she wraps around me like a warm blanket, her eyes full of pleasure sparkling up at mine, the noises she’s making. Nothing else matters anymore but her. 

She breathes out like she’s relieved and says, “I’ve been waiting for this for seven years.” My head reels. Our arms wrap around each other as I find a slow and steady pace. Everything is her. She fits right in my arms as her nails claw at my back and her legs wrap around my waist to make sure I won't go anywhere, which I won’t. But I need to see the way her body moves. 

Sitting up, I stare down at her, pumping in and out, her tits bouncing with every move I make. Finding her clit with my thumb, the noise she makes in response is intoxicating. She arches her back, squeezing her own tit, which is one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen.

“That’s my girl.” Can I call her that? I don’t care. I’m going to. 

She giggles and scratches my thigh, whispering, “You feel so good. Faster?” And I can’t help but comply, speeding up my thrusts but maintaining control. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up though. I want…need to go faster and she’s asking me to, but I also want to take things slow, be with her forever. “Faster, please,” she almost sounds like she’s in tears. 

I don’t go much faster, though. This has to be perfect. I can’t be too much. But—

“Hey, stop for a second,” she says genuinely and I oblige, slipping out of her to sit back on my knees. She sits up and reaches for my hands. “Come here,” she says, pulling me closer so our chests are grazing each other’s. “Are you okay?” I nod enthusiastically. “It seems like you’re holding back.” 

“I just…you feel so good and I don’t wanna get carried away. And I don’t know your, like, limits.”

“You can fuck me so hard—no, I want you to fuck me so hard. You don’t have to hold back, okay?” She reaches down and squeezes my cock, waiting for a reaction from me. “I’ve been waiting for this cock and I need you to fuck me and don’t stop until I’m begging you to.” She smiles. “Unless you ever wanna stop, of course.” I nod. “Did you wanna take it slow?”

Without giving my brain time to process, I flip her onto her stomach, yanking her up by her hips so she’s on her knees, ass up. I gather her hair in a makeshift ponytail before thrusting into her so hard it takes her breath away. She feels indescribable—a radiating ache overcomes me and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let her go after this. 

My thrusts reach a speed finally fast enough for her as she’s whimpering on my cock, shuddering from the feeling of me buried deep inside her. The room fills with the sound of my thighs smacking her ass, making ripples roll down her cheeks. My hand tingles wanting to spank her, but that’s a bit much, no? But she said not to hold back.

I decide to indulge myself, spanking her harshly, my hand making a loud smack, earning an irresistible moan from her. She whispers, “Thank you.”

“Thank you, who?”

“Thank you, Sir,” she whimpers. I spank her again, rubbing it to soothe the sting. I’m fucking her so fast and hard that we’re both sweating, skin getting sticky and slick. Pushing on the small of her back to deepen her arch, I find an even deeper spot inside her. “Ohmygod—” Mira gasps. 

“You sound so sexy,” I groan. I don’t want her to hold back either. I want her to be as loud as she wants to be. No one else is on this floor anyway. Pulling her up by her shoulder, I reach in front of her to rub her clit, her head dropping back and onto my shoulder. 

Slipping out of her, she shudders and whines at the sudden loss but I turn her around so she’s on her back before I land on top of her again, pinning her hands above her head. Her knees fall open and I hook my hands under her thighs before thrusting back into her, earning an incredible eye roll from her. 

“Fuck, Yeonjun.”

“I know, darling,” I say lowly. I wonder if she actually likes it when I call her that. Should I call her something else? Baby? Babe? Love? 

The speed of my thrusts increases again, while I massage her tit. She grips her legs by the back of her knees, holding them wide open for me. “Look at you…being such a good girl for me, hm?” Using my body, I push her legs down gently, letting me in even deeper. Our faces are so close to each other, her lips are just begging to be kissed, but I resist. 

She takes a deep breath, her eyebrows stitch together and she looks up at me before saying with the most genuine sounding voice, “You’re so pretty.”

That makes me absolutely gush. My shoulders scrunch as I run my fingers through my hair before I bend to lick one of her nipples so slowly she can hardly stand it. Kissing up her chest, I whisper, “You’re fucking beautiful, Mira.” Her arms wrap around my neck to pull me closer. 

“Wait, Yeonjun,” she says. I stop in my tracks. “Can you, uh…” she asks, pushing me out of her before getting up off the bed. 

“Is everything okay?” I ask. “Did I hurt you?”

She’s rummaging through her bag and replies, “No, Sir.” Returning, she hands me a small clit vibrator. Oh. “Can you, um…can you use that on me?”

“Whatever you wish, darling,” I say, watching her lay on her back again, spreading her legs open for me. I switch her toy on to the lowest setting. “Do you think about me when you use this to make yourself feel good?” Before she can answer, I place it onto her clit. 

Gasping and nodding, she says, “Yes, Sir.” Her fingers grip the sheets before she admits, “I think about you every time.” She sighs. “Do you think about me when you touch yourself?”

“Of course.”

“What do you think about doing to me?”

“I think about licking all over you. About making you feel good,” I say. “About you screaming my name.”

“You like making me feel good?” 

I nod and we’re both desperate as ever now. Desperate to feel each other. To come together. I thrust back into her, quickly reaching a speed we both like, increasing the intensity of the toy along the way. Her mouth drops open as she furrows her eyebrows, her moans getting higher pitched and quicker. 

“Mira, I wanna see you cum.”

Dropping one of her legs, she wraps it around my waist, grabbing my forearm, clearly close to losing it. “Don’t stop, babe,” she whimpers. I shake my head. “Please, Yeonjun, don’t stop.”

“I’m not gonna stop, darling.”

I reach the deepest part of her, and she finally lets go—eyes rolling back, thighs trembling, clit shuddering under the toy. She’s fucking stunning when she cums. Her other leg falls to the bed while she moans out loud, the corners of her mouth curving upward. “Babe, fuck,” she says breathlessly, “You’re making me cum so hard.”

My thrusts get sloppier and I bury my free hand in her soft waves, groaning and whimpering in her ear as I cum inside her, collapsing on her shoulder. That was truly the best I’ve ever felt. 

Forehead glistening with sweat under the moonlight barely shining through the bedroom window, she looks fucking gorgeous. Her post-sex glow would make anyone swoon. My stomach swirls with emotions. I need her. But I just had her. But I need more. No, I need something else. 

“I wanna kiss you,” she says. Fuck, don’t do this to me. “Please?”

I think about it for a second—I really do. That’s what I want, no, that’s exactly what I need, but— “You told me not to.” 

Shaking her head, she admits, “I don’t care.” She looks absolutely kissable right now. I need to feel her lips on mine again. Passing by each other in the hallway and pretending not to be fucking has been miserable. Every time I see her, I refrain from running up and wrapping my arms around her to give her the best kiss she’s ever had. Not being able to do that has been bad enough, but not even kissing her when I’m literally still inside her? Now that’s torture. 

The way she looks at me too—up through her eyelashes, eyes glistening from pure pleasure, cheeks flushed, lips red and swollen and utterly plump.

She hooks two fingers under my necklace to pull me closer, tilting her chin up toward me. Fuck, don’t do that. My heart races. “Please,” she says. “I need to kiss you.” 

No. Don’t. She’s the one that initiated the no kissing rule. And for good reason. We shouldn’t get involved right now. I let her tug me a few inches closer, but I dodge her lips and turn to my side to lean on the bed before clearing my throat.

“Let’s go take a shower, yeah?” I suggest. 

She sighs and says, “Okay.” Standing up silently, I watch her walk slowly to the bathroom, her body moving so beautifully, but I can tell she’s upset even from behind. I plop down on my back. Did I do the right thing? I want to kiss her more than anything but she’s told me over and over again not to. I didn’t want her to regret something because of the heat of the moment. I don’t want her to feel like I took advantage of her but I also don’t want her to feel like I don’t want her. 

The shower turns on, making me stand up. I catch her looking at herself in the mirror before she glances down. Without speaking, we both get in the huge shower that luckily has two shower heads. She wets her hair then smiles at me sweetly. 

“Can I at least have a hug?” She asks. I chuckle, opening my arms up to her. She wraps her arms around my waist. We wash the day off each other—stressful meetings, long walks to and from the conference center, the amazing sex we just had. The room is mostly silent with the occasional Can you hand me my soap? 

After drying off, we crawl back into the shared bed. I’m sitting up with my back against the headboard while I flick through the TV channels. Half laying down and half resting against the headboard, she keeps awkwardly moving closer to me, opening her mouth and breathing in like she wants to say something but never does.

I slouch a bit to get to her level before opening up my arm up to her and so she can lay her head on my chest. As she snuggles into me, I swear I could die happy right here. The air is calm and sweet and warm, her presence provides an overwhelming sense of comfort and I can’t help but graze my fingers up and down her arm until she falls asleep. 

As predicted, insomnia is my enemy tonight. Questions swirl around my mind. 

Should I have kissed her? What does she want after this? What’s she gonna be like tomorrow morning? How should I act tomorrow morning? After eating some almonds and a banana to try and induce sleep, I go for a walk around the hotel, trying to tire out my body and mind. Eventually, I lay back down thinking about what I really want between the two of us.

Normally, I’d squeeze my eyes shut to picture her lips and eyelashes, but the real Mira is lying right next to me. But I probably shouldn’t stare at her without her permission. With the warmth of thinking of her, there’s also a tug of uncertainty. What if she doesn’t feel the same way I do? What if she just wanted sex? I couldn’t really be mad at her for that, though. That’s what we both wanted at the beginning, even if there may have been some underlying feelings. That’s at least all we were expecting. 

Sighing, I turn away from her, thoughts tangling into each other, emotions pulling on the threads in every direction. I count my breaths, slow and steady, but each breath is full of her scent, making things worse, the adrenaline of unspoken feelings keeping me awake. 

Time stretches out and I look at my phone, the clock glaring back at me—4:37 AM. Another sigh escapes me, heavier this time. My meetings are done for the week, but I don’t like massive changes in my sleep schedule, even when I'm abroad. 

Pulling the covers over my head, I block out the world before quietly whispering her name, like it’s a confession I hope she may hear. I’m answered only by the faintest of snores that have been steady for hours. Finally, my thoughts blur, exhaustion pulling me into a restless sleep. But even in my dreams, she’s there, a shadow at the edge of consciousness.

-

“Hey,” I say groggily to Mira. “What happened to you?” Mira’s already dressed in her work clothes with her hair neatly tied back. The smell of the coffee she’s pouring wafts through the air and warms me up. I start to hug her from behind, but—

“I made coffee,” she replies, her tone professional and clipped. 

“Why’d you get out of bed?”

“To work. That’s why I’m here.” Her voice is detached and she finally turns to look at me. 

Searching her face for the warmth I’d seen last night, I say, “Yeah, but I thought after—”

“We shouldn’t have done that last night.”

“What?”

“Sex,” she says matter-of-factly. “We should not have had sex last night.”

“I know what you meant, but why not?” I ask, my heart pounding. “We’ve been practically having sex for months now.”

“Last night was different.” 

“So?”

Mira takes a deep breath before sitting the coffee pot back on the table. “Because, Yeonjun, I’m your servant and we used to date and now…”

“And now what? We pretend it didn’t happen?” Anger and frustration bubbles inside me. Whether I consciously knew it or not, I’d made my decision last night. I want to be with her for real and I’m willing to do whatever it takes, as long as she’ll have me. I was hoping she felt the same way, but she’s still not willing to admit the depth of our relationship out loud. “Mira, last night was…it was real. You can’t just ignore that.”

She looks away from me, wrapping her arms around herself. “I can’t do this anymore.”

My heart races faster with each step I take toward her. “It’s okay to have feelings.”

“No, it’s not,” she spits, twisting her head back to look at me. “I cannot do this again. We cannot do this again.” I start to interrupt. “I don’t wanna hear it, Yeonjun.”

“Mira, please—”

“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice breaking. “We have to end this before it even starts.” Her words bring a finality to us before she walks out of the kitchenette and onto the balcony. I suppose that’s it then. 

The silence left in her wake is deafening. I slump into a chair, running my hands through my hair, the weight of every unspoken word heavy on my shoulders. The morning light filters through the window, casting long shadows across the room. It’s surreal. 

No. This is not how we end.

Following her out onto the balcony, she stands with her back to me, staring blankly at the lake. The same lake we kayaked on together a few days ago. I envy the serenity of the water. “Mira, you can’t just walk away,” I say softly, hoping to reach her through the wall she’s built around herself. 

She doesn’t turn, but her shoulders tense. “You said it yourself, Yeonjun. I’m nothing. We couldn’t even be together even if we wanted to.” 

“Is that what this is about? You’re still upset about something I said seven years ago?” She shakes her head. “Then what is it?” She keeps turning away from me. And ignoring me. “Talk to me. Please.” 

“There’s nothing left to say.”

cw. crying, kissing. 

MIRA'S POV

The rest of our trip to Switzerland was business as usual. I made sure of it. I woke up on time, got his coffee, did everything a servant does and in the manner a servant would do. No smiles. No anger. Just business. 

“What’s been up with you recently?” Hyomin shakes me out of my daydreaming—or daynightmaring, perhaps—replaying that morning with Yeonjun. How hurt he looked. How it felt to break my own heart. How it felt to break his heart. “You haven’t been acting like yourself. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” I say, glancing over at Yeonjun sitting at the dining table without even realizing it at first. 

Narrowing her eyes, she asks, “Did something happen between you two?”

“No,” I say harshly. 

“You can’t be serious.” I shrug. “You went to Switzerland together for a week and nothing happened? Not even a kiss or a not-so-platonic hug?”

“I have work to do, Hyomin.” Shaking my head, I stomp away in the direction of my room. Slamming my door shut, I press the heels of my hands into my eyes to stop the tears from coming but it's no use. My phone buzzes but I already know who it is. 

Yeonjun 3:52 PM Are you ever gonna talk to me again?

It’s been four days since Switzerland but that’s the twelfth message since we got back. 

Can we talk? Can you meet me in our closet tonight? Just to talk, nothing else. I’d really like to talk to you. Please stop ignoring me. 

I have sent zero. I can’t bring myself to. Tossing my phone on my mattress, there’s a black dress bag and a note on my bed. 

For Saturday. –Y

Are you fucking kidding me? He’s buying me gifts now? What kind of relationship does he think we have? We make each other come a few times, have sex in Switzerland once and now he won’t stop texting me and buying me dresses? Fuck this. 

Me. 4:01 PM Closet. Now.

-

“Hello, darling,” Yeonjun says smugly as I slam the door shut. 

“What the fuck is this, Yeonjun?” I scream-whisper, shoving the dress bag into his chest as his face turns horrified. 

“A dress,” he says defensively, trying to not let the dress bag fall to the floor. 

“Don’t patronize me,” I spit. “You think you can buy me or something?” He shakes his head nervously. “Taking me to Switzerland, staying in a fancy hotel, buying me food, now you’re buying me an expensive dress?”

“I took you to Switzerland as a member of my staff,” he reminds me.

“If you think for one second that I’ll just come running back to you because of this—”

He grabs me by my forearm and gently yanks me close to him to stare down at me hungrily, like he wants to take me right then and there. I know this look very well by this point. 

“You’re cute when you’re mad at me.”

“Shut up.” I throw the dress down and attempt to turn away from him. “Leave me alone, Yeonjun.” His grip tightens, not painfully, but firmly enough to prevent me from going anywhere. 

“Why are you so angry, really? Is it the gifts, or is it because you’re scared of what this means?” I glare at him, feeling the anger bubble up again. 

“Don’t flatter yourself.” I roll my eyes. He sighs, letting go of my arm but not stepping back. 

“I’m not trying to buy you, okay? I just...I like you. And I want to do things for you.”

I cross my arms, trying to maintain the obviousness of my anger but I can’t help I’m shocked. He likes me? Like that? I mean, I was hopeful but I never thought he’d ever say it out loud. Should I say it too? I almost think about it, but instead, I ask, “You think throwing money at me will make me like you more?”

“No,” he says softly, surprising me. “I just don’t know what to do, Mira,” he raises his voice. “You’re ignoring me and I want to show you I care about you.”

“I know you care about me, Yeonjun. I’m telling you to stop caring about me,” I say sternly. “It’s over.”

Over the next few days, he stops texting me, talking to me, I don’t even catch him glancing at me like I usually do several times a day. He must be avoiding me—or doing exactly what I asked him to do, I guess. Which pisses me off too. 

Saturday rolls around and we have yet another fancy dinner to host. The Queen pulled out all the stops for this one too—amazing food, open bar with fancy drinks, great music, even greater decorations. It’s gorgeous. I’d realized I should probably stop being such a bitch and make amends with him. As a gesture, I show up wearing the dress he gave me. 

“Prince Yeonjun?” I ask, watching his ears perk up as he turns around, a clear smile on his face at the sound of my voice. “Can I have a dance, please?” His face relaxes as he nods before he extends his hand to take me to the dancefloor. He performs his customary bow, followed by my curtsy. My tummy tingles a bit at the formality of it all. I feel like a princess. 

As my hand falls into his, nothing matters. Not our history. Not our future. Not his title. Not the lack of mine. I’m with him. We’re together. The soft music from the chamber orchestra is perfect accompaniment for us. 

I’d thought about the idea of us for so long. What we could be, what I want us to be, what I think he wants us to be. I don’t think it’ll ever work, but at least there’s tonight. There’s this dance. 

We sway together, hand in hand, my other hand on his shoulder while his rests around my waist. Eyes locked. His jacket catches the flicker of the chandelier while my gown flows down my waist and onto the floor gracefully. 

Expertly turning me, I can’t help but think back to the first night he broke my heart. Would he do that again? Pressing his hand firmer against my waist, I welcome it by pressing my body more securely against his.  The warmth between us grows stronger by the second. We’re falling in love again. Or maybe we already did. 

He towers over me, much like he did the night of our first kiss. Returning from a night where we’d once again snuck out to see each other, he walked me home. Standing on the front porch of my cottage, we refused to wish each other a good night. The moon was the only light source, but it was enough to see how handsome he was, even back then. 

“Yeonjun…” I whisper as he continues to lead us through a casual dance that lets us focus on a conversation. “I’m sorry.” He looks at me questioningly. “I shouldn’t have gotten upset about the dress. I felt…” I trail off, shaking my head. “I just felt so used, I dunno.” Horror crosses his face. 

“Mira…I didn’t mean—”

“No, I know,” I say. “But I felt like we could never be together, not really anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

I take a deep breath and say, “Keeping secrets, never being able to tell everyone…we should probably stop…you know, what we’ve been doing.” I look up at him through my shaky eyes and he frowns but forces himself to nod. 

“If that’s what you want.”

“I just can’t,” I sniffle. “I can’t do this again. I can’t lose you again.”

“You won’t. I’m right here.” He presses his hands even firmer against my waist to prove it. 

“But where were you seven years ago? I’ve—” My eyes can’t hold my tears any longer, breaking free to run down my cheeks. “I’ve missed you so much.” 

“I know. I’m so sorry.” Brushing the apple of my cheek with his thumb, he lifts my face to meet his eyes. “I’ve missed you too.” Pressing my lips together, I blink a tear out of my eye and I shake my head in protest. “Mira…listen.” He never lets me go. “I am so sorry for what I said that night. If I could take it back, I would.” I smile. “You know that doesn’t matter to me. You mean so much to me,” he says genuinely. “That night in Switzerland meant so much to me.” Everything halts. Our eyes meet. “But if you want me to stop, I will. I’ll never bring us up again.” 

“Us?”

“You know I’m yours whenever you’re ready.” The wind’s knocked out of me. My heart races as he inches closer and closer. So close I can see each individual eyelash. “Tell me to stop.” 

“No,” I say, welcoming his lips on top of mine. His lips meet mine softly, a whisper of a kiss that feels like a promise. It's gentle, tentative at first, like we’re both terrified to lose each other. But then, the years of longing we've kept hidden surge forward, and the kiss deepens.

The room around us fades away, the music, the murmurs of the crowd, the flickering candlelight—they all dissolve into a hazy backdrop. All that exists is us, bound together in this moment of rawness. His hands move from my waist to cradle my face, his touch tender yet insistent. My hands rest against his chest. 

His kiss is everything I've ever dreamed of—sweet yet passionate, comforting yet electrifying. It speaks of forgiveness and second chances. The saltiness of my tears mingle with the softness of his lips.

It's as if we're communicating without words. Each movement, each touch, each breath shared between us is a declaration of our feelings for each other. His arms encircle me, holding me close, and I feel safe, cherished, and utterly adored.

When we finally part, breathless and overwhelmed, our foreheads rest against each other, our eyes closed as we savor the moment. The world starts to come back into focus, but it's different now. Everyone’s eyes are on us. The room has come to a halt. Glancing around the room, there isn’t one person that hasn’t stopped what they’re doing to stare at us. Not us. Me. 

“Fuck,” I whisper. “Excuse me.” I scurry off quickly, leaving him there alone.

cw. unsupportive parents, classism, crying, love.

YEONJUN'S POV

Everyone watches as she runs off like it’s a movie. She’s picked up her skirt to avoid tripping, and her head hangs low as she searches for the nearest exit. I awkwardly look around the room, excusing myself with a few head bows.

Running through the castle hallway, I catch up to her right outside my bedroom door. Her forehead’s pressed against the doorframe, arms wrapped around her body while she waits for me. She’s waiting for me. That gives me hope. At least she’s not running from me anymore. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” I whisper, grazing my hand across her shoulder blade. “C’mere.” I pull her into my chest, wrapping one of my arms around her while I open the door with my free hand. I lead her to my bed where she sits awkwardly scrunched into a ball while I rush to flick on some lamps. Then, I sit next to her, my hand resting on her shoulder blade for comfort. 

“I can’t—” she can hardly speak through her tears. 

“It’s okay.”

“I can’t do this, Jjun, I can’t.” She’s shaking her head, tears running down her cheeks. “I really want to but I just…” She trails off. Before I can speak up, she adds, “Your mother—” 

My heart sinks. “My mother? Did she do something to you?” Pressing her lips together, she nods. “Take some deep breaths, love, and tell me what she did.” She does as I say, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth, attempting to compose herself. 

“After,” she starts hiccuping and I encourage her to take more deep breaths by modeling the breathing technique she was using earlier. “After that night in Switzerland,” she begins, but it’s too difficult for her to speak. Pulling out her phone, she silently thumbs through her phone to her voice mail box. My mother’s voice, cold and stern, plays from the speaker. 

Mira Ashenrose, the audacious servant who dares aspire beyond her station, it has come to my attention that your eyes linger far too long on my son. Your actions are not only bold but also insolent, as you seem to have forgotten your place within my castle walls.

Let me be clear: the Prince's future is one of sovereignty and grandeur, a path predetermined by bloodline and duty. Any attempts to disrupt or divert his focus with your insignificant presence will be met with severe consequences.

You are a servant, a role you should embrace with humility and gratitude. Your duties do not include entertaining fantasies of a life beyond your given position, especially one involving a royal whom you are unworthy to even address directly.

Cease your imprudent behavior immediately. Should I find even the slightest hint of your infatuation resurfacing, you will discover that my patience is not to be tested. Your continued employment—and indeed, your very well-being—hangs by a thread of my tolerance, a thread that I am fully prepared to cut.

Do not mistake this warning for mere words. You will find that I am a queen of action. Refrain from crossing boundaries that were never meant for you, and remember your place. It is only in your compliance that you will find any semblance of mercy from me.

Consider this your only warning.

By this point, her crying has subsided to sniffles but I’m speechless. How could she have done this? “I woke up that night after we…were together. You were still next to me. I was just checking the time and I had that message waiting for me.” 

“Mira, I don’t care what my mother thinks.”

“I care,” she says. “I can’t be with someone whose mother thinks of me like this,” she says, gesturing to her phone. “And you used to think of me that way. What if you start thinking like that again? Or do you already think of me this way?”

“Of course not,” I say, grabbing her hands. “Look at me.” She puts on a brave face before looking me straight in the eye. “Do you wanna know what I think of you?” She hums. “Perfect. Beautiful. Kind. Caring. Talented.” Smiling to herself, she looks down at our hands. “That’s what I think of you.” She nods gently and I brush some hair back. “You should have told me.” She shakes her head. 

“I decided to quit anyway,” she sniffles. “I already put in my two weeks. That’s why I asked you to dance. I wasn’t gonna leave without dancing with you at least once.” She glances down at my lips. “Or kissing you at least once,” she giggles. 

“Or twice?”

She chuckles again, glancing down at the floor, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand. “Sure.” I peck her lips gently. 

“Three times?” I ask, barely backing away from her. 

“How about you kiss me over and over until I tell you to stop?”

I don’t waste any more time playing silly games with her. I crash my lips into hers and we melt together, she groans against my lips and I deepen the kiss, my hand against her cheek. But she soon breaks it to ask, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Why didn’t you kiss me? You know, when I asked you to.”

“Because I thought if I did, you’d do exactly what you did the next morning,” I say. “I didn't wanna lose you.” 

Nodding, she runs her thumb across my knuckles. “What are we gonna do?” She asks. 

“About what?”

“Us.”

“There’s an us?”

“Ah, shut up,” she laughs, nudging my shoulder. “You know I’m yours whenever you’re ready.”

-

“Yeonjun, what is it? I’m very busy,” Mother says, not bothering to look up from the many papers that are shuffled across her desk. 

“Mother, we need to talk,” I say, my voice steady but firm.

Sliding her glasses off her nose, she drops them on the desk and turns in her chair to make eye contact. “You’re right,” she says and I look confused. “What are these policy proposals you wrote?” Why is she reading those? How did she even find them? “This Freshwater Sustainability Proposal,” she says matter-of-factly. 

“What’s wr—”

“This is some of your worst writing. Half of it doesn’t even make sense,” she says, my stomach dropping. Those were drafts. “I mean, what is this part about ‘aquatic ecosystem revitalization through bioremediation techniques’? You think the council will understand that jargon? And this section on ‘community-based water stewardship programs’? It’s laughably naive. Who’s going to manage these programs? Volunteers?”

“That is a well-researched proposal meant to—”

“Well-researched?” She scoffs, flipping through the pages with a dismissive hand. “It’s idealistic drivel, Yeonjun. We need practical solutions, not fanciful ideas that belong in a classroom.”

“These ideas could make a real difference.”

She waves a hand, brushing off my words. “Idealism is pointless. We can’t gamble on untested theories.”

“Untested theories?” I can’t help but let a note of disbelief slip into my voice. “They’re proven methods many other countries have successfully implemented.”

“Our priority is status and stability.”

“What good is status and stability if our environment collapses?” I challenge.

She glares at me, her eyes cold before she lets out an evil chuckle. “Sometimes I forget how young you are.”

“Is that why you feel the need to control every aspect of my life?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I take a deep breath, preparing for the moment of truth. “When did you find out about Mira?”

The question hangs in the air, catching her completely off guard. Her eyes widen ever so slightly, but she quickly masks her surprise. “Who? Oh, that servant that quit last week? I did see you two kiss at the party.”

“Don’t play games with me, Mother,” I say, my voice hard. “I know you knew about us before that. That voicemail you left her? Where you threatened her, told her she was nothing but a servant, and to stay away from me.”

She recovers quickly, her expression turning cold. “How dare you accuse me of such a thing?”

“How dare you do such a thing?” I shoot back. “Mira is someone I care about and you had no right to interfere with our relationship,” I say.

“Relationship?” She rolls her eyes. “Your relationship is a shallow, pleasant distraction at best. She’s simply a way to blow off steam, to indulge in sexual frustrations.”

Ew. But okay. “It’s more than that, Mother. Mira means something to me.”

She sighs, a mix of impatience and disappointment in her voice. “Yeonjun, you’re too young to understand the complexities involved here. You have a duty to this kingdom, to your people. Mira is not part of that equation.”

“If you can’t find a way to accept the woman I love, then…I don’t know if there’s anything else for us to say to each other.”

“You’ve known her for three months, Yeonjun. You’re not in love.”

I shake my head. “We’ve known each other for seven years.”

“What?” She asks, shocked. “You’ve been seeing her behind my back for seven years?”

“No,” I say. “We used to date a while ago and then we…I dunno, started back up after she started working here.” 

“You think you love her,” she counters sharply. “But what you feel is temporary. It’s not sustainable. And you’re all for sustainability, right?” I roll my eyes. “I will not allow you to jeopardize your future and duty for a fleeting infatuation,” I say. “Your choices affect everyone,” she says, her tone unyielding. “Including the stability of this kingdom.”

“You’re trying to control me,” I accuse, feeling the weight of her authority pressing down on me.

“I’m trying to protect you. You must think beyond your own desires.”

Eventually, I say, “Mother, mind your business.” I storm off, headed in the direction of the garden to get some air. I don’t stop walking until I find myself sitting under the willow tree that Mira and I love so much. She’s always loved it here. 

Maybe Mira’s right—I don't know if it's such a great idea to be with someone whose mother thinks of them like mine does about her. Fuck, this is so unfair. Regardless, Mother’s getting what she wants. Us not together. 

Quiet footsteps approach me. Not now, please. I can’t argue with Mother anymore. 

“The woman you love, huh?”

“Mira,” I say, happiness evident in my voice. “Hi.” She smiles, holding her hands behind her back before she walks closer to me. “Um…” She sticks her hand out for me to grab and helps me to my feet. 

“I wasn’t eavesdropping, I swear,” she says but I wouldn’t care if she were to be honest. “I was getting some water from the kitchen and overheard.” 

“Mira…” I say, an undeniable smile spreading across my face, my hands running down her arms, wrapping around her waist to bring her closer. “I’m so happy to see you.”

“Why’s that?” She asks with a sweet smile. 

“I’m always happy to see you,” I say. “I’m sorry you had to hear what she said about you.” She shakes her head. “I do by the way,” I say. “I love you.”

“Fucking finally,” she whispers before reaching her arms around my neck to pull me closer to her, crashing her lips into mine. They move over each other passionately. She tastes so fucking delicious. She feels so fucking warm. She smells so fucking good. “Oh, I love you too,” she giggles, breaking the kiss. “Sorry, I should’ve said it sooner.”

“I love you too too,” I say between kisses. “So much. You have no idea.” She looks so sweet. “I guess we should probably talk about—”

Shaking her head, she says, “Not yet. Let’s just—” She gives me another deep kiss. “We can think about that later, okay?” I nod and press my lips to hers again. 

Everything is so perfect. The way her laugh echoes in my ear like nothing could ever go wrong, the way her body slowly but sensually grinds against my own, the way we know we love each other and can finally say it out loud, even if we don’t know what the future holds for us. 

Breaking the kiss gently, she’s absolutely stunning. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything as gorgeous as her. I brush my thumb across her eyebrow and say matter-of-factly, “You’re so beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she replies. “So are you.”

The air shifts. We’re alone and we’re hyper aware of that fact. I doubt anyone could even hear us. Our eyelids get heavy as we lean into each other, our lips touching in a fiery kiss that leaves me needing more. Holding her cheek in my hand, it grows deeper and hotter until a tiny moan leaves her mouth. “Fuck,” she says under her breath. “You’re such a good kisser.”

“That’s all you, baby,” I say, sliding my hand down to squeeze her amazing ass. 

“Yeonjun,” she whines. “You can’t tell me you love me and then not immediately fuck me.” 

“I can’t even imagine doing such a thing,” I chuckle.

“You think…” she glances behind her. “Think we can sneak into your room together?”

“Absolutely.”

Walking back to the castle makes us all the more giddy. Hands touching each other playfully, giggling and flirting in hushed tones all the way back to my room where I lead her to my bed. 

Landing on top of her, she’s so pretty. Covering every inch of her bare skin with kisses, I can’t stop whispering compliments to her. Real compliments I’ve always wanted to say. 

You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I’m so lucky I get to love you. I love every inch of you and I’m gonna show how much I mean it. 

“Please, Jjun, I need you.”

“You know I need to taste you first, though, right?”

“Of course.” She lets me slip her sweatpants off her legs, the cool air making goosebumps prick her skin. Her maroon thong is so sexy. Desperately moving her thong to the side, I take a deep breath, wanting to take my time with her. Letting go of her thong, it snaps back into place, covering her back up. I press my lips to her tummy, peppering her with soft and slow kisses. 

“So perfect,” I whisper against her skin. And I mean it. Every time I say it. “I could worship your body for hours.” 

“We’ve got time, my love.” 

All I know is by the time I’m done covering her body in kisses, the sun has completely set and she’s illuminated only by the lamp on my bedside table. But I can absolutely still see how beautiful she is. I could see her beauty in the pitch black. 

“Yeonjun,” she starts, pulling me up to look her in the eyes. She brushes some of my hair back and says, “Whatever happens after this, I want you to know—” I start to protest. What does she mean? I know what’s gonna happen after this. We’re gonna find a way to be together. “I want you to know that I love you, okay?”

“Mira…I love you too.”

“Just know that…” she takes a deep breath. “I’m yours.”

I give her a long, lingering kiss and say, “And I’m yours.”  

@aduh0308 request a tag :)

[chadillacboseman]

your work needs more praise!!! specifically the marakrov stuff lately. the whole possessive/protectiveness thing in the past one definitely did something to me 🙈would it be okay if i ask for a something?

maybe sitting in between his legs, resting your head on this thighs and looking up at home while he talks about all the things he’d do to protect you, his precious. maybe a little smut added into that?

also the fact you call him V *chefs kiss*

Thank you so much for that kindness!! :)

CW: Reader has an encounter with a very creepy dude who threatens them.

It was a split second, really. The man at the bar let his hand wander too low, fingers brushing where they had no business being.

You had told him to fuck off countless times, rebuffing his outrageous advances with a scoff and rolled eyes.

The hand was the last straw.

Your hand passed across his cheek, crisp, hard, and loud, ringing out as he recoiled from the force of the slap. You stormed out in a huff, abandoning the friends you had come with and exited into the rainy night, pulling your coat around your frame.

In hindsight, probably not the smartest idea. Your apartment was at least six blocks away and the rain was coming down in sheets, soaking your jacket and the clothes underneath.

You pulled your phone from your pocket and texted Vladimir, "Just left the bar, walking home. Some asshole wouldn't take a hint."

"Hey!" a voice called from behind you, nearly swallowed by the pouring rain.

You spun on your heel, finding yourself face to face with the man from the bar. Panic took root in your chest like an icy hand wrapping its fingers around your heart.

"What do you want?" you braced yourself, fists balled in your pockets, prepared for the worst.

"The fuck is your problem?" he spat; his face was twisted in an ugly snarl, "Embarrassing me like that in front of the whole bar?"

You didn't have an answer- nothing you could have said would diffuse the situation. You contemplated running, sprinting into the night and hoping you were faster than him.

"You got a hearing problem, bitch?" the man barked, beginning to close the gap between the two of you.

You took an instinctive step back, acutely aware of how alone the two of you were in the street, "Listen, I'm sorry I slapped you-"

"Not sorry enough," He closed the gap quickly and you turned to run, your heart racing, banging in your rib cage like a snare drum.

You ran face first into something, bouncing back a few inches before two arms embraced you, stopping you from falling backward. You yelped in surprise, eyes snapping upward to meet the face of the person who had caught you-

Makarov.

"V-" you choked out the nickname you'd given him, your heart still hammering, "He- he was going to-"

You didn't need to finish the sentence. Makarov was on the man in an instant, his fists hurtling through the air, blood and rain blurred together as he beat him. You turned away, averting your eyes from the scene as Makarov pinned him to the ground and battered him, his hands growing more bloodied with every blow.

When he was satisfied, he rose to his feet, adding a final kick to the man's ribs before coming to you, his voice hushed, arms wrapping around you in a familiar embrace.

"It's alright, Солнышко," he murmured, "Let's get you home."

The journey was a blur of rain, cold, and darkness, as Makarov guided you to the car and into the passenger seat. The streetlights flicked past in orange blurs as the two of you drove on without a word.

He kept a protective hand clasped on your thigh the entire trip.

--

"I should have killed him," Makarov ran his hand through your hair as you rested on his thigh, "Should have gutted him like a fish."

You stared up at him from you place at his thighs, head rested comfortably on the muscled surface, "Why did you...why did you find me?"

Makarov scoffed and glanced down at you, "You told me you were walking home. Alone." He seemed annoyed at the idea.

"Sorry," you looked away and he dipped his mouth to your forehead for a kiss.

"You did nothing wrong," he muttered, lips still brushing against your skin as he spoke.

You felt like crying, all of the emotions of the night bubbling to the surface as you laid in his lap, his fingers still tangled in your hair.

"I was so scared, V," You whispered, still choking back tears, "I thought-"

Makarov interrupted you with a hand to your chin, turning your gaze to his; his eyes were intense, burning with an emotion you couldn't place.

"Nothing is ever going to happen to you," his eyes were dark, fixated on yours as he spoke, "No one will ever hurt you. Ever."

"Ever?" you goaded him a little now, enjoying the way he looked at you with such possessiveness.

"Ever," he echoed with a sly smile, "And if anyone lays a finger on you, I'll fucking kill them."

You knew he meant it.

[kwanisms]

🎄 Tales from Camp Holiday Special 07 🎄

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➮ Joshua × fem!Reader wc: 9k summary: While helping set up for a Christmas special at his church, Joshua is reintroduced to Y/N who is offered to help him set up. While working, they reminisce and Joshua apologizes about everything that summer. genres/themes/au: angst, fluff, smut; holiday themes, religious undertones; non idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, mentions of pregnancy, religious themes, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist: @yoonguurt @wonw00t @aikisbbq @enhacolor @duchesskaren @sherituhhh @wonderfulshinee @gaebestie @drunk-on-dk @seokgyuu @salty-for-suga @aaniag @dnylwoo @1004luvangel join my taglists: main | TFC: Holiday Special closed! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: sorry this took so long lol i was stumped at where to take it, but managed to figure it out by moving a scene around. Joshua is always a subject that is fun to explore as every seems to see him pretty different. I love seeing what everyone comes up with for him. A reminder that the taglist for this series is now closed! Thank you so much for reading! If you liked this, please consider reblogging as it really helps out and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: protected sex (finally lmao. He has learned from his past), a lot of heavy petting & making out in a church backroom lmao, car sex, oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, choking kink, finger sucking, degradation, impact play (light slapping), slight exhibitionism, and I think that’s all of them! If I missed any, let me know!

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

Joshua wouldn’t say he was as deep in his faith as he used to be but he still attended church regularly. Less out of faith and more out of routine and a sense of community. So when the holidays rolls around, he inevitably ends up volunteering to help with the extra activities like the nativity play as well as teaching Sunday school. This year was no different.

Except that it was completely different.

“Can you hand me that hammer?” Joshua asked, pointing at the claw hammer sticking out of the tool box. Jeonghan huffed, bending down to pick it up and handing it over. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into helping you with this,” he grumbled, checking his watch.

Joshua looked up at his friend. “Impatient?” he asked with a smirk. Jeonghan narrowed his eyes. “I have work in an hour,” Jeonghan said, glancing around quickly before adding in an “asshole” under his breath, making Joshua laugh as he lined up the nail and started hammering it.

“This won’t take long,” he promised as he started hammering a second nail into the wood. “Besides, isn’t this fun?” Jeonghan eyed him suspiciously. “Not particularly, no,” Jeonghan answered before glancing around. “I feel… weird.” He looked up at the cross on the wall behind the stage they currently stood on. “Oh it’s not that bad,” Joshua snorted as he finished hammering the nails in.

He handed Jeonghan the hammer before starting to push the frame of the tiny stable over until it stood upright. “Hmm, not bad,” Jeonghan said, tilting his head to admire Joshua’s handiwork. “You’re like Jesus’ dad. A carpenter.” Joshua rolled his eyes, lightly smacking Jeonghan’s arm.

“You’re an idiot.”

“What?” Jeonghan hissed, holding his arm and looking more offended by the slap than the insult. “You even have the same name!” Joshua turned to give Jeonghan a bewildered stare. “You’re thinking of Joseph,” he said as he started to grab the brown cloth fabric and the upholstery staple gun. 

“Mary’s husband was Joseph. Joshua was a warrior who led Israel in the conquest of Canaan after the Exodus from Egypt.”

Jeonghan stared blankly at his friend. “I have no idea what any of those words mean.”

Joshua rolled his eyes, gesturing for Jeonghan to help him hold up the fabric backing of the stable. He started to staple it into place, making sure it was pulled taut over the frame. “He was essentially a military leader,” he explained further. Jeonghan’s lips parted in an O as he listened. 

“Good for him,” Jeonghan said as Joshua continued to staple the backing on. “Power to the people or whatever.” Joshua snorted again as he finished stapling. Jeonghan checked his watch again. “Look, I’d love to stay and talk to you about EXO but I have to leave now if I want to make it to work on time,” he said, starting to head for the steps. Joshua nodded.

“Of course. And thanks for your help,” he said as Jeonghan descended the steps. “Drive safe!” Jeonghan waved as he headed down the aisle and out the door into the lobby of the church.

Back on his own, Joshua was able to focus on the less taxing job of painting the stable. It wasn’t much, just some brown paint here and there but Joshua always went above and beyond.

“Looking good, Joshua!” a voice said, drawing his attention. Joshua looked up to find Father Y/L/N walking towards him, his wife in tow and one more familiar face. Yours.

Joshua felt a rush of blood to his head as he stood up straight, making him feel lightheaded. He hadn’t seen you since summer camp all those years ago. He’d tried, keep an eye out for you every year until he finally quit working there once he got his full time job.

Not one sign of you at the camp. He feared the worst when he didn’t see you again the next summer after your last… meeting. Upon returning to his cabin, Joshua remembered that the two of you hadn’t used a condom and knowing your father was a pastor, he probably didn’t allow you to take birth control.

It had really eaten away at Joshua.

Especially when he learned that you’d left the next morning citing a family emergency. And thus began Joshua’s months-long panic-stricken search but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to dig up any social media accounts under your name.

Not a single trace of you had been left behind for him to follow but here you were, years later and looking even more amazing and beautiful than the last day he’d seen you.

“Joshua, you remember my daughter, Y/N?” your father asked, placing a light hand on your back and gently pulling you forward. Joshua was rendered speechless. He’d never been speechless.

If Jeonghan was still here, he was certain he’d never hear the end of it. Joshua stared at you, stunned and silent longer than he should have because the next thing your father did was ask if he was okay.

Joshua shook himself mentally. ‘Get it together, you idiot!’

“Uh, yeah,” he finally stammered out, turning to look at you, meeting your gaze. “Hey, Y/N, how have you been?” He hesitated briefly, uncertain of how much physical contact was appropriate.

Should he shake your hand? Go in for a hug? What was allowed? Especially in front of your parents. Joshua had literally been inside you before but that was years ago. He settled for neither and instead gave you probably the most awkward wave he'd ever given in his life.

If your dad didn't think something was up before, he’d certainly be suspicious now. Whether or not he was, Joshua wouldn’t know as your father simply smiled, looking from you to Joshua and back.

“It’s been a while, Joshua,” you noted, not looking away from his face. Joshua swallowed nervously, hoping neither of your parents caught onto his increasingly bizarre behavior.

Either they were oblivious or just didn’t care as to why the usually calm.and collected Sunday school teacher was suddenly losing his cool and metaphorically shitting bricks.

“Yeah,” Joshua replied lamely. “Y/N’s been out of the country for work,” your mother suddenly piped up, sounding exceedingly proud of you. A shy smile graced your lips, reminding Joshua of the quiet demure young woman he’d met all those years ago.

Despite the smile, you certainly did not carry yourself the same way.

“Wow, that’s incredible,” Joshua said, looking away from your mother to meet your gaze. “She’s back in town, looking at apartments. Isn’t that right, dear?” Joshua could see a hint of amusement in your eyes.

“Something like that, mother,” you replied dryly. Before either of your parents could say anything more, you spoke again.

“I think I’d like to stay here and help set up,” you offered quickly. “You two go on ahead without me.” Your mother and father exchanged quick glances of surprise before your mother spoke.

“Are you sure, dear?” she asked. You nodded quickly, moving to stand beside Joshua. “It’ll give Joshua and I a chance to catch up.”

Your mother and father looked at one another one last time, Joshua holding his breath that they would just give in and say yes without trying to pry. He wasn’t ready for that conversation yet and he was certain he never would be.

Seemingly moved by your willingness to volunteer, your parents gave in without much resistance, cooing over how sweet you were to volunteer your own time to help out.

They told you they would be back later to pick you up and where to meet them before they both bid you and Joshua farewell.

Once left alone in your presence, Joshua suddenly had no idea what to do, how to act, or what to say so you took the lead, turning to face him. “So,” you started. “What’re you working on?”

Joshua employed your help in painting the stable. It wasn’t exactly riveting work and it left his mind free to wander. Neither of you made any attempt to fill the silence or bridge the glaringly obvious gap between you.

Time seemed to whizz by and yet it also appeared to stand still.

On top of that, he managed to knock over the can of paint.

It would seem he just couldn’t win today.

“Shiii-oot,” Joshua started to curse but caught himself, glancing at you. Upon hearing his half curse, you looked up at him with a bewildered look. “Shi-oot?” you asked, a note of amusement to your voice. Joshua stared at you blankly until you burst into laughter.

And what a sweet laugh it was. He didn’t realize how much he’d missed it until he heard it again.

“What the fuck is ‘shi-oot,’ Joshua?” you managed to wheeze.

A smile spread over Joshua’s face as he realized he’d been holding back and being so uptight for no reason.

Despite all that had changed, it was nice to see some things hadn’t changed at all. You shook your head, still chuckling as you grabbed a nearby rag and started to clean up the spilled paint.

“I’ll go grab a mop from the cleaning supply closet,” Joshua said, setting his brush down carefully and stepping over the spilled paint as you set the can upright.

The cleaning closet wasn’t far, just in the hall outside the nave. He grabbed the mop and a spray bottle of cleaning solution. Upon returning, he was surprised that you managed to get a bulk of the paint off the floor.

He walked over, spraying the spot generously. You got to your feet as Joshua waited for the chemicals in the solution to work. “I’m gonna go grab another can of paint,” you announced. Joshua leaned the mop against one of the benches. 

“I’ll come with you,” he replied, following your steps. “I have to let this stuff sit for a few minutes anyway.” While it was true the solution needed a few minutes for the chemicals to break down the materials in the paint, Joshua really wanted an excuse to spend more time with you. 

He should have known it was a bad idea. He should have foreseen what was going to happen considering your history the last time the two of you were alone together in a store room.

You weren’t sure who made the first move, but one minute you were trying to match paint, the next Joshua had you pinned against the wall, his thigh wedged between yours as his tongue explored your mouth, hands skimming over your body with practiced ease. 

“Fuck,” Joshua grunted as your hands tugged through his hair, pulling his head back slightly. “You still sound just as pretty as before,” he heard you murmur, your lips ghosting over the skin of his neck. “And you’re much more confident than before,” Joshua mused as you pulled back to look at him.

He pulled you in for another kiss, muffling your moans as you rolled your hips, grinding against his thigh.

‘What are you doing? You need to stop this! Remember last time?’

“Wait, wait,” Joshua said softly, pulling back to look at you. “Stop.” You looked up at him, confused as he held you still. “We can’t do this,” he stated, his voice slightly breathless. You felt a small tug at your heart. “Oh.” Your stomach started to sink as the gravity of his words settled. “I see.”

Sensing the shift in your demeanor, Joshua held you firm as you tried to turn and pull away from him. “That came out wrong,” he started quickly. “I meant, we can’t do this here,” he clarified. You looked back up to meet his gaze. “What?” you whispered.

Joshua’s hands moved up to cup your face. “Let me be perfectly clear,” he explained. “I want this. I want you,” he continued. “But not here.” Joshua looked around the backroom. “We’ve done this before,” he added. “I don’t want to do this again. I want to do things right with you.”

You stared back at him, searching and studying his face. When you came back here, following him, you had expected the same thing as before. The sexual tension had been high since being reintroduced.

As you stared back at Joshua, several questions ran through your head. ‘Has he felt this way since the last time? Has he been thinking about this since then? Did he want to pursue something more involved, possibly romantic with you? What was his end goal?’

“What are you saying?” you asked softly, resting your hands against his chest. You felt his thumb stroke your cheek tenderly, making you resist the urge to lean into his touch. “It means,” he started softly, looking into your eyes. “That I want more from this.”

Your heart skipped a beat, breath catching in your throat.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think about that day,” Joshua continued. “To think about what we did, how it affected me, and even moreso, what happened after. I was sure that you had gotten pregnant,” he paused, gauging your reaction.

You said nothing, wanting him to finish his thoughts in their entirety before you spoke. Sensing this, Joshua continued his narrative.

“And that got me thinking. Had me thinking about the future, about what I want in life, and about you. I wondered where you ended up. Wondered what you were doing in your life. And the more I thought about the possibility that I had a kid out there, the more I started to accept it as reality.”

You shook your head quickly. “I’ve been on birth control since I was 16,” you explained. Joshua’s eyes widened in surprise. “You have?” he asked quickly to which you nodded. “Mainly for my endometriosis,” you added. “But the added not getting pregnant aspect has been nice, too.”

Joshua let out a soft laugh, shaking his head before he looked back up at you, hesitating before taking a deep breath. “Anyway, as fate would have it, you didn’t get pregnant. I don’t have a kid out in the world. And for some reason, that doesn’t bring me any relief. It almost makes me feel… sad.”

Your brows knitted together as he finished his sentence. ‘Sad?’ you wondered. ‘He wanted me to have his child?’

“Don’t get me wrong,” Joshua said suddenly. “I’m glad you didn’t have to put your life on hold to raise a child alone. I’m glad your life went on and you were able to do the things you always talked about,” he added with a smile. It wasn’t the usual smirk you’d always gotten from him. It was a kind and genuine smile.

A very rare one.

“It also means, if you wanted, we could start over.”

Your eyes widened. ‘Start Over?’

“I realize that things have definitely changed but if you’ll let me,” he continued. “I’d like to do things properly this time. Take you on a real date. Court you properly in a way that won’t make your dad hate me,” he added. You let out an unexpected chuckle.

“He doesn’t hate you,” you replied. “He has no idea what we got up to all those years ago.” Joshua felt relieved, feeling his body relax just a little more. “As for starting over,” you continued and Joshua tensed up again. ‘Here it goes,’ he told himself.

“I’d love to, actually.”

Joshua froze, staring at you unblinking for a few moments.

“Wait,” he said softly. “Really?” he asked. You nodded, letting out a giggle as the realization of your words dawned on him. “Oh, shit. Sorry,” he apologized quickly. “I'm just… honestly, I'm shocked. I thought for sure you'd turn me down!” You let out another giggle, watching his excitement rise.

“How does Saturday sound? We can go get coffee. Or go to a museum. Or a movie if you’d prefer that? Whatever you want to do!” You smiled as he rambled on, listing off idea after idea for a first date. You reached up, covering his mouth to cut his rambling off.

“Coffee and a museum sounds great.”

╾───────────────────⭒✧⭒──────────────────╼

You were able to help Joshua finish his projects and set them aside to dry for the rest of the day before the show the following day. Joshua got ready the next morning, a mix of nerves and tension. Not because of the show but because of seeing you again.

When you agreed to start over and go on a date with him, he’d been over the moon and riding that high the whole way home but upon waking the next morning, he was a ball of nerves.

He arrived early at the church, dressed in a nice pair of khakis and a navy blue suit jacket. He’d packed a pair of jeans to change into after the show to help take things down and keep his clothes nice and clean. Setting up was simply putting sets in place and making sure all the costumes and props were ready to go.

Joshua was mainly in charge of handing out programs, and making sure the ushers did their jobs escorting people to their seats. It wasn’t a hard job particularly, but most of the ushers were young teenage boys who liked to mess around. Not that Joshua blamed them. He was a teenage boy once. He understood.

The doors to the church opened at six pm, allowing for an hour for the guests and congregation to find their seats. It was an hour full of ‘welcome’ and ‘would you like a program?’ By the time the show was about to start, Joshua was internally cringing for sounding like a parrot the whole time.

As the last few of the guests trickled in, Joshua’s heart skipped a beat. You’d arrived with your parents and it was all he could do to not stare at you as you walked closer, chatting with your mother. Instead, he allowed himself to look quickly over your body, taking in the ensemble you’d chosen.

As you and your parents drew nearer, a genuine smile spread across his face unlike the one he’d been forcing earlier. “Ah, Joshua,” your father said upon noticing him. “How good to see you again.” You turned your head, gaze falling on Joshua and he could have sworn, he’d seen your eyes sweep over him quickly as well as the look you gave him. 

It made blood rush to his head and not the one with the smile on it.

“Good evening, Father Y/L/N. Mrs. Y/L/N,” Joshua said with a nod before his eyes fell on you. “Y/N,” he added with a smile. “Would you like a program?” one of the teenage boys to Joshua’s left asked, interrupting the moment as yours and Joshua’s eyes had been locked on one another.

“Yes, thank you,” your father answered, taking two from the boy and handing one to his wife. You looked back at Joshua, glancing at the programs in his hands. “Could I have one of those?” you asked softly. There was a tone to your voice. Almost like you were asking for something more than the program but all the same, Joshua nodded, handing one over to you.

“Enjoy the show,” he said as your parents started to head into the nave. “Thanks,” you replied, opening the program and glancing over it quickly before looking up at him. “See you after the show?” you asked, a hint of hope to your voice. Joshua nodded, heart skipping as a smile spread over your face.

“See you after the show, then,” you said softly before following your parents inside.

Joshua stood at the back of the nave, against the wall as the show started but he couldn’t focus on his students standing on stage and acting out the birth of Jesus. All he could focus on was you sitting three rows from the back, eyes forward as you watched with what anyone else would assume was rapt attention.

Joshua might have as well if he hadn’t caught you turning to gaze back at him before the lights dimmed.

The whole show, Joshua kept his eyes on you, watching every shift, every light chuckle, and the way you leaned over to whisper something to your mother. In the low lighting he could still see the way your lips pulled into a smile as you let out a soft laugh, covering your mouth with your hand.

He felt like he could look at you for hours but he’d never admit it for fear of sounding like a creep.

So he’d keep that to himself.

When the show finally ended, the lights came back on and the guests started to trickle out while the staff started to slowly clean up the stage. Joshua made a point of making sure to wish everyone a goodnight and a Merry Christmas.

Thankfully, you and your parents were among the few to remain behind, your father speaking to the other pastor. Joshua saw your head turn in his direction, watching you speak a few words to your mother before following the crowd in his direction.

He looked away quickly, continuing to say goodbye to the guests as they passed him. Moments later, you joined him. “Found you,” you said softly, making him chuckle. “Now what?” you asked. Joshua smiled, after turning from a guest.

“Now I have to help clean up,” Joshua answered. “Could I stay and help?” you asked suddenly.

Joshua’s eyes widened but before he could answer, another voice spoke up.

“You ready to head home, dear?” your mother asked, drawing your attention. You glanced over at Joshua quickly before speaking. “Actually, I think I'm going to stay behind and help clean up,” you replied, smiling at your parents. You noticed the way your father glanced at Joshua and back. 

“How will you get home?” he asked. Joshua looked at your parents.

“I can drop her off, if you’d like,” he offered. 

Your mother cooed at the kind gesture. “Oh, you don’t have to go out of your way to do that,” she started but Joshua shook his head. “I don’t mind at all,” he explained. “It’s not out of the way and it’s been a while since Y/N and I have seen one another. Could give us some more time to catch up while I drive her.”

Your mother smiled at him, throwing an unreadable glance your way before she turned to your father. “Y/N will be fine,” she started. “Let’s get home before the snow starts, dear.” Your father nodded and looked at you. “Don’t be too late,” he said softly. “We have plans in the morning.”

You nodded and waved them off as they exited the room before turning to Joshua. “You didn’t have to offer to drive me,” you said softly as you moved to stand beside him and help taking down the set. “It’s nothing,” Joshua replied. “Like I said, it gives us a chance to properly talk.”

The task of taking down the set wasn’t nearly as complex as putting it up and soon you were walking out of the church with Joshua, heading to his black sedan. He unlocked the door and opened it for you, only shutting it once you were safely inside before heading around to the driver’s side and getting in.

Joshua started the car, pulling out of his parking space and following the line of cars heading out of the parking lot, turning onto the road and following your directions towards your parents house. Small flurries had started to fall, collecting on the grass and starting to pile.

You chatted animatedly while Joshua drove, following your directions that led out of town to your parent’s farm. It wasn’t far out of the city but it was still a considerable distance from the town.

You glanced over to find Joshua looking at you before he looked back at the road, a slight smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “What?” you asked softly. He shook his head. “Nothing,” he replied. “I just like listening to you.” Your cheeks and the tips of your ears burned as you looked away.

Your heart was thudding in your chest, the tension from earlier in the supply room returning as you had both essentially cucked yourselves. You were still needy but you couldn’t tell if it was just your or if Joshua felt it too.

“Why do you keep staring at me like that?” Joshua asked softly, glancing at you and you shrugged. “I just like looking at you,” you replied. Joshua let out a chuckle, checking his rearview mirror and his smile fell instantly. “What the-?” he cut himself off. You noticed the flashing of red and blue lights from behind and your heart sank. ‘Are you serious?’ you wondered, turning in your seat to look out the back window.

Joshua slowed the car, pulling onto the shoulder before putting the car in park. He waited patiently as the cop car stopped behind him, lights still flashing as the officer got out of the vehicle and started heading towards the driver’s side window. Joshua rolled it down as the officer drew level.

“Evening, officer,” he said pleasantly. “What seems to be the problem?” The officer leaned down to look into the car and noticed you. “Where are you two headed?” he asked, directing his attention at you. “My parents’,” you answered. “They live outside the city on their farm.”

The officer turned his attention to Joshua. “The roads are starting to ice in places,” he explained. “Just warning everyone before something awful happens. You make sure to get where you’re going and soon,” he continued. Joshua nodded. “Are we free to go?” he asked to which the officer nodded.

“Just make sure to be careful.”

Joshua thanked the officer and waited for him to return to his vehicle before putting the car in drive and pulling off the shoulder as he sped back up to the normal speed for the highway. “Am I the only one that was shitting bricks back there?” he asked, a shocked laugh escaping him.

You shook your head. “No, I was kinda freaking out a little, too. I was wondering what we could have possibly done to warrant being pulled over.” Joshua nodded as he checked his rearview but the cop car was no longer in sight, nor were the flashing lights.

“I wasn’t speeding and I know for a fact that my tail lights work just fine,” he explained. “I almost thought it was going to be a sobriety check,” he continued. You nodded as he continued to drive, adrenaline coursing through your body. “Turn up here,” you voiced, pointing at the country road.

Joshua slowed, turning his blinker on and made the right turn onto the first of many country roads to get to your parents’ farm. He turned on his brights, illuminating the edges of the roads. The snow was coming down even heavier, blanketing the grass and starting to gather on the road.

“I’m going to have a time trying to get back home through this,” he whispered more to himself but you still heard him clearly. “Maybe my parents won’t mind if you stay the night in the guest room,” you replied. “I’m sure my mother would feel better if you stayed rather than go back into all of this.”

Joshua felt a stirring in his chest and stomach at the thought of spending the night at your parents’ house, so close to you and yet unable to have you. He had half a mind to turn back and head to his place instead but reminded himself he’d already told your parents he’d bring you home.

“I’m sure I’ll be okay,” he replied. You shook your head. “Just watch,” you said softly as you looked out the window. “She won’t let you leave and she’ll insist you stay in the guest room.”

“Wanna bet?” Joshua asked, looking at you and back at the road. “Okay,” you said quickly. “If I win, I get to pick where we go on our date,” you said, making him laugh. “And if I win?” he asked, glancing at you. “You can pick a time and place and do whatever you want to me.”

Joshua’s face burned and he hid his shock with a cough and clearing of his throat. “Alright,” he replied.

“You’re on.”

Suffice it to say, Joshua lost the bet instantly. As soon as he pulled up, Joshua insisted on walking you to the door to make sure you got up the steps safely. The door opened almost instantly and he was very quickly ushered inside by your father. Not long after, your mother appeared and began fussing.

Joshua tried to refuse but you had been right and your mother insisted he stay until morning. Joshua caught your eye and smiled, returning the same smile you were currently giving him.

“Show our guest to the guest bedroom, Y/N,” your mother said, drawing your attention. “Make sure he knows where the towels and extra linens are. And where the flashlight is just in case we lose power.”

You nodded to your mother to show you heard her instructed and beckoned Joshua to follow you through the hallway to the right. “The house is a true ranch style,” you explained as you passed a half bathroom. “Three bedrooms and two baths on this side,” you continued.

“This is the guest bedroom,” you said, stopping at a door and opening it, flipping the light on.

It wasn’t anything grand or spectacular. There was a queen size bed with light natural toned linens. The bedframe, dresser, two nightstands and bench at the end of the bed were part of the same set. Against the back wall at the head of the bed was a large picture window with curtains drawn mostly shut. To the right was a doorway into a dark room.

“Guest bathroom,” you explained, leading him over to it and turning on the light. It was a standard bathroom with a vanity and double sink, a separate room for the toilet and a shower tub combo with a glass rolling door.

“The towels are in here,” you explained, walking over to the sink and opening a lower cabinet door to reveal shelves stocked with towels. “There’s some generic shampoo, conditioner, and body wash in here,” you added, pointing to another cabinet door.

You turned off the light and ushered him back into the bedroom before leading him over to a door in the wall opposite the bathroom and slid it open to reveal a closet with built-in-shelves. “We keep the extra linens in here. Pillows, blankets, sheets, etcetera,” you said, showing him inside the closet.

You shut the door and walked back over to the door to the hallway.

Joshua walked over and peered into the hall for any sign of your parents. “And where’s your room?” he asked softly, grabbing you by the hips and pulling you closer. You jerked your head gesturing down the hall. “Last door,” you replied. Joshua glanced at the door and then back at you.

“And your parents?” he asked nervously. “Other side of the house is where the master suite is,” you answered. “So opposite sides.” Joshua’s brow raised and he offered a cheeky smile before letting go of you. “She get you all squared away?” your father asked with a smile. Joshua nodded.

“Yep, all set,” he answered. “Alright, we’ll we’re heading to bed,” he announced, leaning in to kiss the side of your head. “Don’t stay up too late,” he said, shooting the both of you a smile before he headed down the hall towards the living room.

“We should probably turn in as well,” you said softly. Joshua nodded, although he really didn’t want you to go to your room and be so far away from him but it’s not like it was another world. You were down the hall. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Even with the daylight, I’ll still have a drive ahead of me.”

Well, goodnight,” you said shyly, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek. As you pulled away, Joshua pulled you in for a proper kiss, nuzzling his nose against yours before letting you pull away again. “Goodnight, beautiful,” he murmured, smiling as you bit your bottom lip and turned to retreat to your bedroom.

He shut the door of the guest room and walked over to the bed, pulling back the sheets. He mentally cursed, forgetting to turn off the light and walked over, flipping the switch off and returning to the bed. He stripped himself of his pants, folding and setting them neatly on top of the dresser before climbing into the bed and pulling the covers up, sighing in relief to find the bed was actually pretty comfortable.

He wasn’t sure how much sleep he’d get, knowing you were just down the hall but he rolled onto his side, shutting his eyes and hoping exhaustion would catch up with him and that sleep would come soon.

You had changed into your sleep shirt, tossed your dirty clothes in the hamper and made your way to your bed, turning your light off on the way and climbing into your nest of blankets and pillows. Laying back against the pillows, arms crossed, you stared up at the ceiling and tried to focus on getting rid of the throbbing ache between your legs.

‘It was just a stupid kiss,’ you told yourself. ‘Why are you getting so worked up over a kiss?’

You rolled onto your side and tried to will yourself to sleep but the throbbing just made you press your thighs together to find some sort of relief only none would come. You were still tense and turned on from your encounter in the church back room with Joshua and your new panties were already sticking to you.

‘I guess I’ll just take them off!’

You shimmied out of your panties and tossed them in the direction of the hamper. You were settling back when you had a great idea. “No panties,” you murmured. “It just might work.”

You pulled back the covers and got out of bed, tiptoeing over to the door and opening it quietly. You hoped that Joshua was still awake. It hadn’t been that long but you were sure he was exhausted so he might have fallen asleep already. You crept down the hall, listening for any sound of your parents.

Upon reaching the door, you knocked lightly, calling Joshua’s name through the wood.

The first time, there was no answer so you tried again. This time you heard a muffled “yeah?” through the door and opened it. “Y/N?” Joshua asked through the dark. “Are you okay?” he asked, propping himself up. It was dark but you could still make out his silhouette from the built-in bathroom nightlight.

“Is everything oka- Y/N? Yah, what are you doing?” Joshua hissed as you shut the door and snuck over to the bed, pulling back the covers and climbing in. “We’re gonna get caught and then your dad is going to throw me out into the snow,” he continued as you snuggled up to him. “No he won’t” you whispered back.

Joshua opened his mouth to retort but you cut him off with a kiss, one that he immediately leaned into. “You created a problem,” you murmured against his lips, pulling him closer so his chest was flush with yours. “Problem?” Joshua asked in between your kisses.

“What kind of problem?”

You grabbed one of his hands, guiding it down between your thighs. Joshua’s eyes shot open as he realized you’d gotten into the bed without any shorts or underwear on. ‘Fuck.’

“Are you insane?” he hissed but you ignored him, pushing him onto his back as you climbed on top of him. “Y/N,” Joshua said, his voice low like it was a warning. You leaned over, taking his face in your hands as you kissed him. You felt his arms wrap around your back, holding you against him as he kissed you back. “If I get killed by your dad, I’m coming back to haunt your ass,” he murmured before sitting up.

You let out a soft giggle as he took your hands from his face and pushed you onto your back, hovering over you as his hips rested against yours. On instinct, you wrapped your legs around his waist, letting out a gasp as the cloth of his underwear brushed against you, giving you a minute amount of friction.

“If we’re going to do this,” Joshua said softly, one hand moving up to cup your cheek as he looked into your eyes. “You’re going to have to keep it down,” he continued, thumb stroking your cheek. “Can you do that for me, angel?” You nodded eagerly. “Yes,” you breathed out. “Of course. I promise.”

The moment the words left your lips, Joshua rolled over, pulling you on top of him, guiding your hips over his growing erection. You breathed out a soft moan, eyes fluttering shut as you followed his guidance. “Show me how bad you want it,” Joshua murmured, hands sliding from your hips up to your waist, pushing your sleep shirt up and glancing down at your naked lower half.

You grinded against him, leaving a trail of your arousal on his underwear. He’d have to wash them the minute he got home. “Hang on baby,” he murmured, halting your movements. You pouted at him as he chuckled, guiding you off his lap before he shimmied out of his underwear to avoid you soiling it any further.

“Come here,” he said softly, holding his hand out which you took eagerly, allowing him to guide you back on his lap, his half hard cock resting against his abdomen. “Sit down,” he instructed, his voice breathless as you did so, letting out a whimper before covering your mouth with your hand.

“Sorry, Shua,” you whispered, looking down at him. “Just feels so good.” Joshua reached up, cupping your cheek tenderly. “I know, sweetheart,” he murmured before taking your hips in his hands. “Come on now,” he urged. “Show me how badly you want my cock.”

You whined softly, grinding against him with renewed vigor, the heat of his cock against you driving you crazy. “Please, Shua,” you mumbled, trying to keep the volume of your voice down. “Please let me ride you. Wanna feel it inside me.”

Hearing your breathless voice whining for his cock almost made him break his resolve but he wanted to tease you just a bit longer. “No,” he replied, his fingers digging into your hips. “Keep going, baby girl. Show me just how bad you need it and then I’ll let you have it.”

You let out another whine, a little louder this time, grinding harder and feeling the underside of his cock drag through your slick folds against your clit. Your thighs shook from the sensation, fingers curling into the sheets on either side of Joshua’s head.

“That’s it,” he urged. “Keep going. Just like that.”

Joshua’s hands moved your hips faster, guiding you over his cock and pulling you against him at the same time. You let out a gasp, shuddering at the feeling, trying to fight against Joshua’s grip but failing as he pushed and pulled your hips, bucking up into you with a stifled groan.

“J-Josh,” you stammered, arms shaking as you struggled to keep yourself up. Sensing your arms were about to give out, Joshua sat up, rolling you over onto your back and pinning you under him as his hips rested against yours, settling between your thighs. “You know how hard it was for me to not pull over earlier into an empty lot and fuck you in the car?” he whispered, rolling his hips as his lips brushed against your jaw, nuzzling his nose against your cheek.

“How hard I was thinking about doing just that?”

You whimpered, holding back a moan as his cock continued to glide through your folds.

“About as hard as I am right now,” he continued. “Josh, please. I need you,” you whimpered softly, choking back a sob. Joshua lifted his head to take in the sight of your eyes shining with unshed tears, a pout on your lips. He moved a hand up to your cheek, cooing at you.

“Aww, poor baby. Feels so good?” he asked. You nodded, fighting back the urge to cry. “You’re so wet,” he murmured, rutting against you. “Bet I’d slip right in,” he continued. You nodded, babbling incoherent words between your pleas for him to fuck you.

“Shhh,” he whispered, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip, pausing as you parted your lips and allowed his thumb into your mouth, sucking on the tip. “God, I just wanna use that pretty mouth of yours so bad,” he murmured, watching your lips wrap around his knuckle.

He could feel your tongue against his thumb, swirling around it lazily.

“Is that okay?” he asked softly, making you open your eyes. “Can I use your mouth, beautiful?” His cock twitched against you when you nodded, eyes fluttering shut as he pulled his thumb from your mouth and pushed himself up. “Come here,” he murmured as he sat back against the headboard, helping you up and guided your hand to his cock now coated in your arousal.

You started stroking him languidly, making him choke back a moan. “Use your mouth, pretty,” he urged. “Show me what a slut you are for my cock.” No sooner than the words were out of his mouth, he had to bite down on his knuckles as you took him in your mouth, bobbing your head as you held the base of the shaft firmly. “F-fuck, baby,” he groaned.

“That’s it,” he encouraged you. “Take all of it like a good girl, I know you can.”

You moved your hand, sinking down until the tip of his cock reached the back of your throat. Joshua moved his hand to the back of your head, pushing down just a little more, letting out a shudder when you gagged around his cock. He let you back up for air, praising your efforts.

“Just like that, keep going.”

You wrapped your fingers around his cock, stroking it faster before spitting on the tip, making Joshua hiss. “Fuck,” he moaned, trying to keep the sound in the back of his throat. “When did you turn into such a dirty slut?” he asked, holding back another moan as you took him back in your mouth, sinking down all the way again. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten such sloppy head and watching you try and swallow him down was making it harder and harder to hold back his orgasm.

He was about to just fuck your mouth and be done with it when you pulled off, noticing his cock twitching. “Gonna cum?” you asked looking up at him. Joshua shook his head, grabbing your wrist. “Not yet,” he answered. “Come here.” He pulled you into a messy kiss, ignoring the salty taste of his precum on your tongue as he guided you onto your back.

Your thighs spread as he settled between them, leaning onto his side a little to open you up for him.

He brought two fingers to your mouth. “Open,” he instructed. You did as he said, taking his fingers in your mouth and coating them in your saliva. Joshua pulled them from your mouth, moving them down to your sex and rubbing them against your slick folds before pushing past them and teasing your slit.

You sighed as he pushed one finger in first, curling it carefully and pumping it in and out before adding the second. Once he was knuckles deep, he started curling his fingers against your walls, thumb brushing over your clit as he kept his gaze on your face.

You moaned softly, wrapping an arm around his neck and pulling him down to hide your face. “Feel good, baby?” he whispered in your ear. You nodded with a muffled whine. Joshua chuckled as he continued to finger you, stretching your walls as he scissored you open, prepping you to take his cock.

The tension had started when you were grinding on him but that had been localized to your clit. This tension was more. Your clit and inside your stomach like a rubber band being pulled back and increasing the tension. Soon you were going to snap. “Shua!” you gasped, thighs threatening to close and they would have had he not been leaning against on, pinning it to the mattress under his weight.

“You gonna come for me, pretty?” he asked softly. You nodded, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth to hide your moan. “That’s it,” he murmured. “Come for me.” Your back arched off the mattress as your orgasm drew closer and closer. “S-Shua,” you whined in hid neck.

Joshua pulled back to look down at you. “Open your eyes,” he ordered. Your eyes fluttered open, meeting his in the dark room and the smirk that spread over his face had yours burning. “Keep them open,” he urged. “Wanna watch you cum. Look at me when you cum,” he added.

You whined, walls fluttering around his fingers as your orgasm started to wash over you. Joshua held your gaze as his fingers fucked you through your first orgasm of the night. You whined, hips following his movements until you were begging him to stop.

Joshua let out a soft chuckle as he pulled his fingers out of your soaking cunt. “So pathetic and pretty when you cum,” he murmured, bringing his fingers coated in your essence to your lips. “Open for me,” he continued, sliding his fingers over your tongue when you parted your lips.

“Clean them for me.”

While your tongue lapped at his fingers, he pushed your sleep shirt up with his free hand, exposing your chest. “Fuck, I missed these,” he murmured, hand ghosting over your chest. He pulled his fingers from your lips, chucking when you pouted and whined for his fingers back.

“I promise you’ll get them back in a bit, baby. Let me take care of this first,” he murmured, tugging your shirt up and off when you finally sat up for him. His shirt was quick to join the pile of discarded clothes on the floor as he knelt between your thighs. “Shit, wait,” he said hesitating. “Do you have a condom?” he asked. You waved towards the guest bathroom, still coming down from your high.

Joshua climbed off the bed and snuck into the bathroom, opening the drawers as quietly as he could, finding an unopened box of condoms in the back of one of the drawers. ‘Jackpot,’ Joshua thought to himself as he carefully and quietly opened the box, placing it back in the drawer before shutting it and returning to you. He tore open the foil packet, pulling out the latex and carefully rolled it on.

Once securely on, he climbed back onto the bed, kneeling between your thighs and grabbing your hips to pull you against him. He took the base of his cock in his hand guiding the head to rub against your clit, making you whine in anticipation. Joshua spit into his hand and added it to the lubrication on the condom and rested the tip against your slit.

“You still with me, angel?” he asked, looking down at you. Your eyes opened to meet his and nodded. “I’m still here,” you replied. “Want you so bad, Shua,” you whined. Joshua fought the urge to laugh at how cute you were. “Open them a little more,” he said, tapping the inside of your thigh with his free hand. You spread your legs a little wider, groaning as you felt him start to push the head of his cock into you.

“Mmm, fuck,” Joshua swore under his breath. “So tight and warm,” he breathed out, easing his way in, gliding against your walls. Your thighs fell open wide as he bottomed out, letting all of him in. “Good girl,” he murmured, leaning over to press a kiss to your temple.

“Taking me so well.”

You gasped as he gave you a shallow thrust. “Sore?” he asked and you shook your head. “N-no,” you stuttered. “Feels so good. So full.” Joshua smirked against your skin, pulling back and giving you a singular thrust, relishing in the sound that escaped your lips and the way your walls clenched around him. “So. Fucking. Tight,” he hissed in between thrusts.

“But taking me so well. Like you’re my own personal slut,” he groaned, hips setting a steady pace as he thrust into you. “My own little fuck toy, right?” he asked. You nodded weakly. Joshua scoffed, fingers closing around your throat firmly but not so tight you couldn’t breathe.

“Answer me, you dirty little slut,” he growled. “Yes,” you gasped. Joshua raised a brow. “Yes what?” He slowed his hips, allowing you a moment to speak. “I’m your little fuck toy,” you whispered. He smirked, picking up the pace, his hips hitting your ass. “If only your father could see his little girl right now. Getting railed by the Sunday school teacher.”

You whined, your hands wrapping around his wrist as he held you down by the throat. Your walls fluttered around him and he chuckled softly. “Of course the little slut likes getting choked,” he scoffed. “Such a dirty whore,” he murmured. “Too bad you aren’t more of a brat,” he continued. “Would love to fuck the attitude out of you.”

“Shuh-Shua!” you whined. His pace quickened, releasing your throat and moving his hand up to your mouth. “Open,” he ordered. You obeyed immediately, welcoming his fingers in your mouth to shut you up. “Gonna fuck you for real now,” he muttered, his free hand moving up your stomach to your chest, squeezing and kneading.

“Should I turn you over and fuck your like the slut you are?”

You moaned against his fingers and Joshua chuckled lightly, pulling his fingers from your mouth before pulling out of you, giving your pussy a light slap when you whined in protest. “Turn over on your stomach,” he ordered. You rolled over, muffling a squeal as he grabbed your hips and lifted them, grabbing one of the pillows and folding it in half to place under your stomach.

Once he was satisfied, he guided the head of his cock back to your entrance, pushing into you with ease and taking both your hips in his hands. “Now you really need to be quiet,” he warned. You cried out into the sheets, muffling your moans and mewls as Joshua pounded into you from behind You were sure the sound of his skin hitting yours would wake your parents up but surprisingly, you didn’t hear a peep from them.

“Fuck,” Joshua groaned, hands sliding to squeeze your ass. “Next time I think I’d like to fuck your ass,” he growled, letting out a breathless laugh when your walls tightened around him. “Does my little cockslut want that? Want me to fuck your ass? Bet you’d even let me do it without a condom, wouldn’t you?”

You nodded fervently, keeping your face hidden in the sheets. “And I bet you’d let me fill you up. Just fill your ass with cum and turn you into my own personal cum dumpster. Wouldn’t you?” You nodded again, gasping as you felt his nails dig into the flesh of your ass.

“I’d fuck you so hard you would be able to sit or walk,” he groaned, hips faltering as his own orgasm drew closer. “Fuck, m’not gonna last much longer. You close, angel?” You whined in the sheets, begging him for more. “Touch yourself then, sweetheart. Do what sluts do and get yourself off. Cum on my cock like a good little slut.”

Your hand darted between your thighs, fingers finding your clit and working circles around it in time with Joshua’s thrusts. With each pass over your clit and drag of his cock against your walls, your orgasm drew near. The tension pooling in your abdomen snapped and you released, a gush of warm liquid rushing out of you as you came with a muffled cry.

Joshua wasn’t far behind, the spasming of your cunt pushing him over the edge and he leaned over your back, sinking his teeth into your shoulder as he emptied into the condom, hips riding out both your climaxes until he finally slowed to a stop.

After a couple moments, Joshua pulled from you, letting out a deep inhale as he pulled the condom off and tied it off before getting off the bed and disappearing into the bathroom. You could hear the faucet in the sink running before it shut off and Joshua returned with a wet washcloth, starting to wipe you down and clean you up.

Once he’d finally wiped the remnants of your release from your lips and thighs, he helped you put your shirt back on before pulling his and his underwear back on and settling under the covers with you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close.

Silence washed over you before he finally spoke. “So, this isn’t exactly the way I wanted things to go,” he murmured in your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek and tugging your closer. “But I still really want to take you on a proper date.”

A smile spread across your face and you turned to look back at him, reaching up to cup his cheek. “I’d really like that,” you said softly. Joshua’s lips spread into a smile before he pressed a couple of chaste kisses to your lips. “But only if we can keep having mind-blowing sex afterwards,” you whispered, making him bite back a laugh.

“I think I can manage that, angel.”

ⓘ Graphics made by me. Content and support banners made using a template by cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All writing and graphics are ©️ kwanisms.

[6lostgirl6]

could u do something for the lost boys with a cute and innocent gf? maybe like cat valentine or sumthin

Ingénue

Pairing: Poly!Lost Boys x Innocent!Reader

TW: small mention of sexual innuendos, hints of possessive behavior.

You are the exact opposite of the group of vampires and they found the striking difference to be extremely attractive.

While they were clad in haunting dark colors and leather, you sported outfits that were decorated in floral patterns and pastel colors.

They were very surprised that you weren't apprehensive of them when you all met the first time.

You simply smiled sweetly with doe-like eyes and engaging in conversation with them without a care.

They knew that they had to keep you for themselves. That selfish need that consumed them prevented them from letting you go until you were offically theirs.

Your relationship with them turn heads when you all visit the boardwalk.

The image of a sweet girl spending time with a bunch of trouble-makers left many people thinking that the world was ending.

You are practically their bright and shining star that has blessed them with your love and sweetness.

Whenever a surfer nazi bothers you, they immediately are on the defensive.

Marko has no trouble starting a fight with them to get them to leave you alone.

You're theirs.

They love the sound of your voice, high-tuned that reminded them of bells.

You don't understand sexual innuendos and jokes and Dwayne slaps Paul when he tries to explain it.

David pretends he doesn't like your style and wants you to dress darker but it's only because he can't handle how delectable you look.

Dwayne has a silent yet expressive fascination with your outfits.

Whenever he would see you wearing ruffles and lace, he would quietly and gently grab the fabric and play with it with his fingers.

Paul loves the sound of your laugh and will constantly make jokes to hear it.

He also loves your expressive gestures because he does the same thing and the boys used to tease him about it.

Whenever Paul sees you dressed in bright colors, he playfully hisses and shields his eyes, yelling, "Too bright!"

Marko appreciates fashion, given that his jacket is handmade, he likes learning about your style.

Marko, the artist, has hundreds of sketches of you in your different outfits.

Every night is a new outfit, he never sees you wear the same one twice and teases if you have those specially delivered or something.

"No I made them! (^w^) ♡" You would say.

You created matching bead bracelets consisting of pastels and you all wear them. Despite, David complaining.

"Ew, what is this?" "A bracelet, I can take it back..." "No, it's mine, fuck off."

When you discover their secret, you were understanding, but had so many questions.

"Does garlic hurt? Does the sun kill you? Can you turn into a bat? Bats are so cute!!"

Your bond with them would be even tighter with them.

At times, your innocence triggers their vampiric instincts which they try desperately to control.

You're their mate, yet their instincts scream at them to pin you down and consume you in a primal urge to claim.

Best to stay away from them when they're starving or going through heat.

Spam Liking = Blocked

Taglist: Comment to be added!!

@prettywhenibleed @ghoulgeousimmaculate @pixielostboy @britany1997 @brattyloserprincess16 @blenna3967

[ailesswhumptober]

Hi. I definitely felt refreshed reading your hard stance and information on ai in your pinned, but irrelevant to that, I only found your blog today and I feel like I missed something with AI and whumptober. Can I learn about that? I hope my language makes sense.

In the late summer of 2023, an anonymous user asked the Whumptober blog if AI-generated content would be allowed for the event. This anon did not come from any of us, nor do we know who originally send this ask, but one of us did see Whumptober's response which kickstarted this entire thing.

Whumptober responded that they would not be disallowing AI because they "do not want to police how other people create things" and "didn't want to exclude anybody" but that they would "discourage" AI-generated content "because it feels like cheating" (all direct quotes).

Myself, the other mods, and several more people, were very disappointed in this stance. several of us started replying to the post and got into a back-and-forth with the Whumptober mods about why AI-generated content is harmful and bad. These posts and replies have since been mostly deleted by the Whumptober blog, nor do we want to rehash the entire thing, but some of the stances that Whumptober took that really rubbed us wrong were (again with direct quotes):

"AI-generated content is not art theft". When pointed out that these sorts of applications very much scrape content without consent, Whumptober claimed that it's the AI that steals then, not the person who uses the AI. They also claimed that since the AI already scraped the content, you "might as well use it", that defending against AI scraping is "going down on an already burning hill" and that "if you don't want your content scraped/stolen, just don't post it online". We found these very concerning statements from an event made by and for creators.

"AI-generated content is a fandom issue and nobody in the real world is harmed by it". This is, obviously, factually incorrect. When we pointed out real creators in many creative industries are being hit hard because of AI-generation, they said "that's capitalism's fault, not AI-generation" (???) and they also told us to "touch grass".

"These sort of AIs are an accessibility tool for the disabled, so disliking them is ableism". Again, this is incorrect. They tried to liken it to predictive text or spell check. We pointed out that there's a vast difference between those machine learning tools and actually generative AI that subsides on scraped content. We said disabled people (many of whom were involved in the back-and-forth) are sick of being used as a strawman by tech bros. They then said "real disabled people probably feel differently" which was a slap in the face, and honestly the thing that still is the most horrible to me about this whole thing.

This is the point where Whumptober started to block a bunch of us and delete asks/replies. They made a post that falsely made it seem like we were harassing and bullying them for saying that they "couldn't check every single entry for AI-generated content". We pointed out multiple times that we absolutely did not expect them to, since we're very aware that with the size of the Whumptober event, it would be impossible. We'd just like them to say 'AI-generated content is not allowed and it's art theft' but apparently they didn't want to.

After this one of the mods DMed me and asked me to send them some resources on why AI-generated content and scraping AI is bad, so they could educate themselves. We spent several minutes collecting sources (some linked in our pinned). They said the Whumptober mods would read them, and then come to a standpoint. But then within less than a minute of us sending the links, they deleted the remaining posts involved in the debate, and just told us they were sticking to their standpoint that "We will not police how people create things, we'll just discourage people by not reblogging it". They also added to their pinned that they won't ever respond to any asks about AI-generated content again. So that was that.

Somewhere during the argument, the Whumptober mods told us that if we disliked their stance so much, we should just make our own event. So we did.

(Edit to add: regardless on if whumptober does change their policy, we never received any sort of acknowledgement or apology of the above and we will keep running this event for whoever wants to.)

[horny-p0et]

sfw dadbur blurb

so sorry this second part took forever 🦭 anon, hope it was worth the wait! this was also sort of weird to write since i don't ever want kids lol. made this sort of vague, any gender and ages from infant to child. enjoy some cute fluffy stuffs, got a lot of writing in my drafts that should be coming soon enough :) askbox open for requests and anything else you wanna send my way.

nsfw dadbur here

warnings: none, just fluff c:

wordcount: 493

dont like, dni. please just block me and move on.

────୨ৎ────

taking any excuse to bring up his kid, even for the most minor reason. someone's eating icecream? he's telling a story about how they made a mess of some vanilla last night. a cute plushie in a storefront? he's bragging about his kid's impressive collection and love for stuff toys.

sings lullabies to them every night, sometimes with a guitar but usually with the baby cradled to his chest as he sings 'la vie en rose' until they fall asleep.

once they're big enough he tries to get them into music, they've always loved listening to him play and slapping their tiny fingers against the strings. ends up buying them their own ukulele when they're 5, practicing with them during his free time.

starts taking them to rehearsals, making sure they're wearing big headphones to keep their ears safe. smiling when he sees you two on the other side of the recording glass, distracting him from the chords he's supposed to be playing.

takes a million photos and videos of ever milestone or tiny moment. doesn't post any of them, but shows all his friends and family, he's endlessly proud of his baby.

while he's away on tour it breaks him, knowing he's missing crucial bonding moments. you remind him its his job, and he can facetime you guys anytime he wants, even to just say hi. sings and plays soft acoustic songs in videos to play for the baby when they ask for daddy.

cuddles you with a possessive hand on your tummy, thumb rubbing circles on the flesh as he quietly asks if you want to make your family a little bigger. he's an only child, and he likes the idea of having a big, loving family.

when baby two comes along, the first is starting primary school and growing up fast. watches with a dumb smile on his face as the older one teaches the toddler to play piano, although its more mashing keys awkwardly. but they're both giggling and laughing, and its probably a better song that he's ever written.

gets more protective of you after the pregnancies, keeping his arm or hand on you at all times. hates how much of the burden of housework you have to take care of due to his busy schedule. goes out of his way to pick up the slack when he's home, even if its just a night catching up on laundry while you sleep on the couch with the kids nuzzled up under each arm.

writes soft, acoustic songs he knows his kids can play even with their growing skills. encouraging them every step of the way as they grow attached to certain instruments and genres.

doubted if he could be a good dad, wasn't really sure how to do it and there isn't a rule book. but any doubts he has melted away when he held his baby the first time. everything made sense, and everything would be okay.

────୨ৎ────

taglist: @lillyspeakz@multifandomhallucinations@xxvalentinezxx@charlidog@bellelikesmcyt@heartofwritiing @imahugenerdlol (reply or send an ask to be added/removed)

[sillygoose067]

Charles’s Angel(s)

Ch.11

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Author’s Note: the fluff really starts hitting here. I felt the butterflies in my stomach writing this— because hey, a girl can dream, can’t she? Honestly, I think this is pretty light in terms of what I have in store, so hang on tight!

You nod shyly and your hands brush together before you both finally intertwine fingers. You look away with a soft smile and a blush. Charles asks you if you want to take his car to the restaurant or walk. “I’d like to walk, if you don’t mind. Monaco is full of so many beautiful sights”, you respond and he smiles at you with a satisfied look in his eyes. Everyone always saw Monaco for its wealth and splendor, but no one really took the time to appreciate its beautiful culture and people. In Charles’ eyes, so far, you had checked every box (and maybe even added some) he had classified as green flags. 

As you walk through the block and avidly discuss Charles’s career, you feel his thumb brush over your knuckles and feel a wave of affection for this man that you’ve barely known for a week. Either he was a really good player, or he was truly a gentleman who knew how to treat women right. You opted to believe the latter. 

Noticing that you’ve spaced out a little bit, he brings you back gently. “Have I told you how beautiful you look right now?”

Escaping your reverie, you bounce back this time. “And have I told you how absolutely gorgeous you look today?”, you counter. You slap a hand over your mouth with wide eyes and your head snaps toward him in shock. You are appalled by this sudden lack of “feminine grace”.

“I’m so sorry”, you apologize profusely as he stares at you with wide eyes, mouth hanging open, and a faint blush painting his cheeks. You’d stopped walking out of shock and were staring at each other. “I am sooo sorry”, you say again. “I’ve really done it now, huh? No wonder no one ever wanted me…”, you say sadly. 

This makes Charles recover, and he struggles to regain his ability to speak. “Non non, ma Chéri! Don’t think that! I was just surprised.” “No one has ever called me gorgeous, so I was just caught a little off-guard. B-But I liked it!” he blushes a deeper shade of pink. He grabs your chin and lifts your face to look up at him gently. “I think I would like you to let loose like that more often”.

When your eyes meet his hesitantly, he raises his eyebrows in question, asking if you’ve understood. You nod and he grasps your hand once again and you resume your walk to the restaurant. 

…

Before you enter the restaurant, Charles pulls you aside. “Y/n, I need to clear some things with you before anything becomes too serious”. He takes a deep breath. “Because I’m an F1 driver, and I don’t mean to sound conceited, but, people tend to follow me around and capture every little thing about my life to post on the media”. He lets out a frustrated huff. “And often, this was the reason why my past partners left me. They couldn’t handle the constant spotlight and paparazzi. I don’t blame them, really, but it hurt knowing that my career made them leave the relationship”. Charles brushes his thumb over your knuckles again and looks at you. “I just want to give you an out before we’re too invested. I understand it can be a lot to take”. This time, he’s the one ready for rejection.

Feeling fearless, you reach up and cup his face, brushing your thumb along his cheekbone. He leans into your touch. “Thank you, Charles. But I think I’m enough of a big girl to handle these kinds of situations”, you say softly. “With a mom who was extremely well-known in the community, I grew up with somewhat of a spotlight myself. I know how to handle things when they get complicated”, you reassure him. “I also think that if we want to make this work, we need to disregard what other people think. If we do become a couple, we mustn’t let others define our relationship– Then it wouldn’t be OUR relationship, don’t you think?”

Charles hums appreciatively. “When did you have time to collect all this wisdom, hmm?”.

You make a move toward the entrance of the restaurant, but he pulls you back to him into a hug. You freeze, but reciprocate nonetheless. “Merci, ma Chéri. Truly”

[acapelladitty]

Edward Nygma/Reader - Mating Press

Summary - Edward discovers a new position he wants to try and you're more than willing to indulge him. (Also includes aftercare.)

Your knees practically touching your ears, the stretch of your limbs would be almost impossible to bear if it wasn’t for the distraction of the animated face which sat only a few inches above your own, his emerald gaze pinning you into place with a greater ease than his body ever could.

“You take my cum so well, sweetheart.” Edward growls, his surprisingly powerful thighs flexing against your own as he ruts his cock deep within your hole. It was a new position for you both, your back pressing roughly against the cheap rug which he had thrown to the floor to save you from the cold stone.

It was a double-edged sword, as the cheap fabric only served to irritate the abused flesh of your back, the skin there heated and raised from the flogger which he had spent minutes striking you with as he forced you to swallow his cock as deeply as possible.

His shock of auburn hair has fallen across his sweat-slicked features and the only thing preventing you from pushing it from the deep lines of his forehead, a result of his intense focus, is the death grip you have on his back – your fingers digging into the wiry muscle there with every punishing thrust.

The stretch of his cock is delicious as it reams you out without mercy, every inch being easily pressed inside your fluttering hole as his groin slaps against your own.

“Yes.” You whimper out, not trusting your voice to be much louder. “Yes! Please, Edward, I-” You cut yourself off as his cock brushes a spot which makes your breath catch in your throat.

“Tell me what you want.” He demands, uncaring of your pleasant distress, his hips rolling as his thumb slips up to brush against your clit. “I want to hear it.”

“Fill me up! Fuck me! Breed me like you own me, like I’m a whore.”

“Whose whore? Who owns you? Who’s the only one to fuck you like this?” Every question is punctuated by a harsh thrust, punishing and fulfilling all in one as your toes curl and your spine arches off the rug.

“Yours, Eddie! Only yours.” You scream out as his thumb drags a senseless pattern across your clit, the added sensation almost too much to bear.

His grin is smug, quickly broadening by the arousal which stutters his cock as fresh heat floods deep within your hole – his release meeting the demands you had made of him.

x-x-x-x-x

The waves of nausea which threatened your throat burned the sensitive skin which was already bruised from Edward’s earlier use as he thrust his cock within your throat – his harsh use blocking the delicate passageway as you writhed and bucked beneath him. Your hands are quick to reach for the side the bed, allowing the feeling to pass as you hang your head over the edge before falling back onto your side.

You are there less than a moment before warm arms scoop around your side to pull you within them, snatching you close to his body as Edward presses your back flush to his exposed chest. The movement is gentle, but it still ignites a shudder as the skin, still reddened and raw by his earlier use of the flogger, is once again disturbed.

“Would you like some cream?” Edward’s voice is mellow in your ear, soothing and calm and an easy anchor for you to latch on to as you suffer the comedown of your heightened activities.

You pull away enough to alleviate the discomfort of your skin and curl your feet within his own to keep that physical touch which you both craved. “Yeah.” You answer. “But only in a minute. I want to – want to stay like this. For a while.”

His hum is one of understanding and, although you can’t see him, the warmth of his hand as it settled gently on your hip is all the comfort you need.

[satyric7nymph]

Content: F!reader fucked by a sculk sensor and warden REMASTERED

Content Warnings: Monster-fucking, overstimulation, questionable consent.

Context: https://www.tumblr.com/satyric7nymph/752789108547600384/content-freader-fucked-by-a-sculk-sensor-and?source=share

Context: The sculk sensor is a block added to Minecraft in version 1.19, The Wild Update. This block senses vibrations and gives off a redstone signal in response, also triggering sculk shriekers within range. More info here.

Careful not to make any noise, you quietly approached the sensor. Its unfortunate generation setting it out of range of the others, much to your benefit as you positioned yourself over one of its tentacles. You bit at your lip to keep from yelping as the tongue-like appendage slid back and forth across your cunt, leaving a trail of slime in its wake. You reached down to guide the tip inside you. It was cold and hard to get a grip of but holy hell was it worth it as you inched your way down from the slim tip to the thicker base.

Choked gasps and wet squelchs echoed off the walls of the cave as the tentacle squirmed inside of you. Your hips grinded against the foliage(?) as sprouts licked at your swollen clit. You didn't know what to do with yourself. You weren't thinking. Your back arched and you sent a hand back to support yourself so you didn't fall. Your palm slapped against deepslate, somewhat cushioned by a sculk vein but not enough to avoid setting off the sensor. You clapped your other hand over your mouth, the sound triggering the sensor further as its tentacles began to writhe frantically. Pushing against your walls, rubbing your g-spot, the sprouts reaching up into your pussy lips as if they were determined to stimulate every inch of your labia. Tears welled up in your eyes as it fucked you. Legs trembling, pussy squirting, body convulsing uncontrollably. It was just too fucking good. The weight and movement caused your hand to slip and you hit your head as you fell.

Context: The warden is a mob added to Minecraft in version 1.19, The Wild Update. This mob senses vibrations and sniffs the air to locate and persue other mobs. More info here.

You woke up to a piercing headache. As if someone took an ice pick and dug it in through one end of your skull and it came out the other. Thuh-dum. You would've mistaken it as your own heartbeat if it wasn't followed by a clicking chirp. You opened your eyes to find a massive humanoid figure looming over you. Sculk veins hung from its antlers and an eerie glow came from within its exposed ribcage. Its cool breath brought you out of your frozen state, allowing you to let out a horrified scream. The warden's antlers seemed to react to your voice. Their dull glow rising as the creature let out an anguished cry, raising its arms and sending them down, cracking the deepslate on each side of you. You covered your mouth as you sobbed. The echo of the warden's anger dying down until the only sounds in the cave were your muffled cries, the warden's staticy growl, and the thuh-dum of its heart. You tried not to yelp when you felt something wet dripping onto your thigh. You looked down to see it was leaking out from the warden. There was a wet squelching as something moved inside of the warden's groin. You watched in horror as a dark tentacle emerged from its body, positioned between your legs. Similar to the skulk sensor, it left a trail of cold slime as it began to slither up your thigh. “N-Nuh-” You began to cry out. Earning an annoyed snarl from the warden, reminding you to keep quiet.

The appendage made its way to your cunt. Squeezing its tapered tip into your vagina until you were stretched to your limit at the base. Tears welled up in your eyes as your body threatened to tear. Your hands trembled as they contained the sobs you failed to choke back. You were terrified. So why was your pussy loving every second of it? The beast above you grunted. Its cock continuing to swell with whatever it had coursing through its veins as you squeezed around it. God it felt so good. The appendage writhed inside of you, easily making it's way through your tightness and pushing against your walls until you squirted. The warden fucked you through your orgasms, one after another, tolerating the sound of your voice in favor of its own impending release.

You felt your stomach swell as the warden's load poured into you. Its body began to rock, giving you a few good thrusts as if to pack its load in before its penis retracted back into its body. You were barely conscious enough to hear the creature burrow beneath the ground to return to where it had been sleeping, leaving you a completely fucked out mess, gushing cum as you rode out the last waves of your orgasm.

[vhagarfire]

Aemond Targaryen x F!reader

Pt2!

Everyone wanted smut! Did I take forever to write this? Maybe… Writers block and lack of motivation is a bitch. Anyhow, i’m back. This is my second time writing smut so I would love to know how I did!

You don’t need part one to understand anything. Of course it would be appreciated if you gave part one love! Minors dni, now that you’ve ignored my warning go ahead and read on.

“It means exactly what I said. Would you like me to repeat myself?”

Aemond stepped forward, so close that their noses almost touched. This was only going to end in one of two ways…

It was y/n who decided to make the first contact. This only made Aemond more greedy for power. The kiss was fast-paced and sloppy, what little room they had between them was due to clothes. Something that Aemond wasn’t very fond of.

Gripping at y/n’s garments, some were easily flung off. Others were left tattered and in pieces on the chamber floor. Left stark naked they drifted to the bed as his clothes were also removed. It was all a blur of hot kisses and clothes flying until they fell onto the bed.

Soft furs on the bed tickled her back as his body weight pressed her deeper into the bed. His long white locks draped his strong frame. As the make-out continued they both began taking turns nipping at each other lips.

She pressed her hips into his, eager to feel any kind of friction. Her hands were all over his body, gripping and clawing at any part of him she was able to get to. While his hand was working his way down her body. Aemond was very often a very giving man in bed. When angry it was no different, except he was painfully slow.

The way he grabbed was harsh, rough; but not enough to the point she couldn’t handle it. Finally, his hands reached between her legs. Slow circles with two of his fingers danced on her clit. A moan slipped from her mouth which he gladly accepted.

“You have no idea what you’ve started,” his voice was dangerous and meaningful.

Much to her delight, she knew exactly what she caused. A shiver was sent down her spine when a single finger dipped inside of her. Looking her in the eyes, he began slow, pushing in and out; curling ever so slightly. While keeping motion and position he slid himself down her body. He almost drooled at the thought of tasting her. No matter how many times they did this, he just couldn’t help himself.

Picking up the pace and adding a second finger his fingers curled more. Now his mouth was on her clit, gently sucking and licking at it. Paying attention to her body language, he knew when to add more pressure and when to take it off. The way her noise picked up, and how her walls clenched around his fingers. He knew she was close, and with that, he removed his fingers and stopped all tongue motion.

“Not yet,” he demanded from her.

“I can’t tell if I want to kill you or fuck you,” she quipped back with a pant.

All he did was chuckle, coming back up he gave her one final kiss. Quickly, he flipped her on her stomach and pulled her to the end of the bed. Without warning he slammed into her, ripping a half moan, half squeak out of her throat. His hips snapped relentlessly, every once in a while a sharp slap came across her rear. The room was filled with profanities and loud moans. Leaning foreword he kissed her back and bit her neck. Leaving deep purple marks that commemorated their time together.

“You feel so good my little whore,” he managed to get out i between moans.

The usually quiet Aemond had the vocal range of a bard when in the bedroom. He never failed to let y/n know how good she was.

“Switch, I want to see you,” y/n spoke.

Just as quick as she asked y/n was on her back and Aemond was quickly back inside of her. She reached up, removing Aemond’s eyepatch. The two were tangled together in a mess of pants and moans. Her hands grabbed his back, leaving deep red nail marks up and down his muscular back. This earned rough thrusts and a large hand around her throat. By now a bundle of knots were forming in her stomach, threatening to burst at any given moment. Aemond too was getting sloppy.

With a loud moan, she moved around him. Her hips bucked wildly into his craving the pleasure of having him. In her now very hyper-sensitive body she could feel him twitch inside of her. Before he too came undone. In doing so he attempted to bury himself as deep as possible in her. His hips dug into hers as he rode out his high.

Carefully pulling himself out, he got up and grabbed a rag. He gently began cleaning up the mess he made on her. His strong hands were now soft and very intentionally placed.

Cleaning himself up he then threw the rag into a random corner to deal with later. Whilst cleaning himself she found herself under the sheets. Joining her, he placed his hands around her waist. His chest pressed against her back.

“Should we get dressed?” She asked him.

“No. We can stay her for a while,” his hands caressed her body gently.

She relaxed in his warm touch, “No one needs you?”

“Even if they did you need me more,” his tone was soft but serious.

Aftercare was something very important to Aemond. He could do whatever in bed with her as long as she was treated with only the highest of respect afterward.

In that bed, the two lovers drifted off to sleep in their shared bed. The previous argument forgiven, or forgotten.

[crazycurly-77]

Like an old married couple - Chapter 8

“We need to talk” you heared Gibbs murmur directly in your ear on your way back to the office. At the sound of his voice and his closeness you had goosebumps all over your body. You could even smell him and he smelled like coffee and sawdust…your heart was racing. 

But you had no time to talk, because as you entered the bullpen the first thing that happened was DiNozzo reporting to Gibbs, that they had a new case to solve. Parallel to that you had to develop a concept of user rights for a specific group of commanding officers. 

Therefore there was no time to think too much about a certain co-worker and anything that had happened. Both of you were completely lost in your work. But surely you were agitated because of what happened between you and Gibbs and what the talk of you two will bring. 

Eventually you heared Gibbs cussing. Shortly after he was leaning on the thin room divider between your desks “get my user account reactivated, please. I've had it blocked mistakenly.”

You looked up at him and simply asked “do you have the confirmation of Jenny?”

“No, why should I?” he was slowly getting annoyed. He said “please” goddammit! 

“Because I am not allowed to reactivate accesses if there is no confirmation of the director” you explained to him calmly. 

This was getting on his nerves so he stepped in your personal space trying to intimidate you and get the access done immediately. 

But you simply held his gaze and began to adjust his jacket collar. 

Everyone held their breath and awaited that he exploded every second. To be honest usually he would have exploded in anger, but this was you. 

When you were finished you looked back up directly into his eyes smiling sweetly to him.

After a few seconds he turned smiling to himself, marched to his desk and called Jenny asking for confirmation, which he got. 

Now you had everything you needed so you unlocked his access that he could work again. 

Of course Tony noticed all this, laughed and asked “hey boss, you're getting old and soft? Allowing yourself to be bossed around?” This earned him a well deserved head-slap and angry stare from said boss.

In fact not only Tony noticed this, but the whole team. Gibbs saying “please”? That was never ever happening - until now. They didn't even know that he knew this word. That was very interesting for sure. 

The next days the case and your concept were getting nowhere, so everybody were on edge and very strained. 

The tension in the office was rising constantly, especially between you and Gibbs. You still had this thing between you, but there was no chance to be alone and much lesser chance to have the much needed talk, which added to the tension immensely. 

You also noticed that Tony, Tim and Ziva where whispering with each other about something, but you didn't understand a word of what they were saying and they stopped chatting as soon as they saw you so you ignored it. 

After all they whispered grinning since the incident with the commander, so what? 

You were all working away, but stopped as a young good-looking colleague from the IT-Department showed up and asked for you. Tony motioned to your desk where you were sitting and looked very interested and full of questions for you. 

As the man was nearing you the whole team stopped working and watched very interested what will happen. 

The man, Simon, was standing at your desk and cleared his throat. He was holding flowers in his hands and was obviously very nervous. “Hey, Y/N” he said. “We work so much together and seem to get along very well, so….I would like to learn to know you better….and I… Would you go on a date with me?”

The whole office were stunned into silence including you. 

“Well, Simon…” what should you answer to him? To this day you never thought about him in this way, but he seemingly was a nice guy, so why not? At the moment you were a free woman and a date with Simon could be very nice and would maybe take your mind off of a certain silver haired “not co-worker”...so you said “yes, I would love to” smiling at him. 

“What about tomorrow at 8pm? I now a new restaurant which we can check out” Simon suggested. “Yeah, sure. Why not?” “Great! I'll pick you up at 20:00 sharp” he grinned and turned to leave. Then he remembered that he had forgotten something - the flowers! He turned around and walked once more over to you “sorry, I've forgotten…these are for you” he said handing you the flowers. “They are really beautiful, thank you” you answered. Then Simon left. 

As Simon was gone, Gibbs looked thunderous in your direction and everybody fled the bullpen. He was tense and his eyes were like a thunderstorm that was brewing up. He was really angry and his jealousy was showing up, but no, you didn't get it. 

He couldn't take that you agreed to go on a date with this…this…morron! He stepped very close to you and stared in your eyes. You thought he could see right into your soul and you swallowed the lump in your throat. 

“Honestly? This boy who has nothing to show you? What is so interesting about him?” he wanted to know and got so close that your noses were nearly touching. Your heart was racing in your chest as was his, too. 

Once again you two shared a staring contest, but after a few moments you couldn't take it anymore. So you took his head in both hands, closed the distance and planted one hell of a kiss directly on his lips. He responded immediately and kissed you back soundly. 

Before long you two were full on making out with tongue and all. You only stopped shortly to take a few much needed breaths. While he pulled you against him his hands stroked your back and neared your ass. You on your part were pressing yourself into him and playing with your hands with the short hair on his neck. 

Suddenly someone cleared their throat a few times right beside you. Slowly your foggy brains realized that you were still standing in the middle of the bullpen and were kissing each other madly. 

Begrudgingly you let go of each other and were looking cautiously who were the one disturbing you. It was none other than Jenny herself. Judging by the way she looked at you she was not amused. 

“I want to see you two in my office, now” she ordered, turned and went away. 

You looked at one another and shared the same thought “oh, oh”. 

(To be continued...)

-------------------------------------

Here you will find the other chapters of this story and the other stories I've written to date.

--------------------------------------

[allthefandomthings55]

Life in the Limelight

Chapter 3

Spencer’s POV

After my text conversation with Y/N, I got back to work. All I had to do was hope that we didn’t get a case in two days. I hopped off the elevator and walked to my desk and greeted everybody as I went. As I sat at my desk I started to do paperwork that had been piling up. 

“Hey Reid, my man,” Derek said slapping his hands on my shoulders. 

“Oh no, what do you want, Derek?”

“Nothing, I just think you should come out with me this weekend. Maybe Saturday?”

“I don’t know, Derek, I think I’m busy Saturday.”

“Ok Pretty Boy! What are you doing, hmm? Are you going to watch some obscure movie? Maybe reading a whole bunch of obscure books?”

“Yeah, actually I was thinking about going out and getting lunch after going for a walk in the park then going to an early movie then going home and reading some books.”

Derek, JJ, and Emily seemed surprised for me to have a detailed plan ready. “Ok Reid,” Emily starts, “Are you going with anyone?”

“No, I’m not. I’m actually kind of excited to go out by myself and enjoy life.”

Everyone was staring at me, trying to read my micro-expressions but I knew they couldn’t. “Everyone in the meeting room in five,” Hotch said as he walked passed us. After everyone left to go to the meeting room, I let out a deep breath. I hope this case doesn’t take us out of state and doesn’t take us long. I don’t want to miss my hangout/date with Y/N. I walk up to the meeting room to see everyone sitting there. 

I take my seat and Garcia starts the meeting, “Ok friends we have trouble in our backyard. First victim, Alyssa Caldwater, was last seen leaving her job at 10:30 last Tuesday night. She was found dead two days ago in an alley, and get this, completely naked. Then just yesterday an Amanda Clarke was found in another alley about two blocks from where Miss Alyssa was found. Also they were both strangled to death then stabbed 30 times postmortem.”

“So,” Emily started, “we’re clearly dealing with someone who has extreme aggression problems.”

“Yeah, they might also be impotent. Maybe that’s why he stabbed them,” JJ commented.

“You know, because of the overkill, we’re definitely dealing with someone who is really fit, or is on some kind of stimulant drug that would give them the strength and energy to do something like this,” I said. 

“Well, it seems like this guy is speeding up. One girl dumped two days ago and another one dumped yesterday.” Rossi added.

Hotch spoke up, “Either way we better get down to the D.C. field office and help them figure this out. Everyone at the cars in 10 minutes.”

I got worried because I don’t know if we’ll be done in time for my brunch with Y/N so I decided to call her. 

“Hello?”

“Hey Y/N, how are you?”

“I’m good, Spencer, I’m just leaving rehearsal. What about you?”

“Uh, I’m ok. Look I hate to do this, but my team and I just got a case and I don’t know if it will be done by Saturday. Luckily it’s here, well in D.C., but close enough, right?”

“Oh,” she sounded disappointed, “well that’s ok. I mean you can’t just let people die, right? How about this, we’ll play it by ear. What I do for work is really flexible so I can meet you really anytime I want. Within reason though.” She chuckled after that sentence and I liked the sound of it. I honestly didn’t even know what to say. “Spencer? Did I say something wrong?”

“No! I mean no you didn’t. I just haven’t always had people in my life that understood my situation.”

“Oh believe me I get your situation. Don’t be nervous but I really need to tell you something when we do get to meet. It’s nothing bad, but I think it’s important that you know.”

“Ok, yeah no worries right? But I have to get going to solve this and hopefully I can make our time and date.”

“Yeah you go catch a killer, Spencer. Good luck.”

“Thank you. Bye,” and I hung up the phone. I made my way downstairs and before I got off the elevator I took a deep breath and made my face neutral so the team couldn’t read me. 

As I walk out of the elevator I see the team waiting for me. “Petty Boy! What took you so long?”

“Uh, I just had to make a phone call.”

“Really? To whom?” I decided to ignore him and just follow everyone else and get into the SUV.

[natsmagi]

Hey there! Just a general question. Your account is rated 16+ and you're all about it, but kind of frequently post softcore porn and revealing art (a lot of chest groping, sexualized outfits, etc). You've advertised your 18+ poipiku and just limited it to followers only with no additional passwords, but that also permits your followers who are minors to see. Just asking of why do you need the engagement from 16 and 17 year olds? (and of course younger, of not being a priv acc, because many below that follow you) I’m just curious! Is it that hard to make your accounts 18+ and block minors and people with no age in bio?

hello! the 16+ on my profile is more of a content rating, NOT a desired audience rating. in my eyes i had always viewed warnings such as 16+ to be for raunchier stuff but nothing explicit, and 18+ to be for the explicit stuff, so i had just made the assumption that since my stuff is raunchy and not explicit itd make sense to slap a 16+ content warning on my page. however this topic is rather nuanced, and you can argue some of my art treads too closely to being "explicit," so, if i am wrong on this, im more than willing to update my abouts. this account has only ever been a place for me to share my art, and i havent really stopped to think about who might be watching enough as i generally try to avoid thinking about these accounts as much as i can. and for that negligence i do apologize

as for the poipiku stuff; i created it so id have a place to post nsfw stuff without flashing people with it. i always state on the post that it is 18+, indicating i do not want those younger to be interacting with it. i cannot control what my audience does or doesnt do, nor do i have any way to tell if im being lied to or not when it comes to ones age. i like to avoid using my art tumblr and art twitter as much as possible, so if i were to add a password it would still be something easy to crack that minors may still disrespect. i made it followers only so my stuff wouldnt spread further and to minimize its reach

either way, my art accounts are predominantly places for me to simply post my art and, on occasion, my thoughts. i do not use my art accounts as a hangout place or somewhere to socialize, and i avoid checking my followers alot because i dont wanna obsess over numbers and an audience for my own sake. i am not always on this account, and i barely touch my art twitter at all, i dont really know everything thats going on and whats happening as i try to keep to myself and stay in my own little bubble.

i understand what youre getting at, and if you think there are better ways for me to go about keeping minors safe online then im more than willing to hear it out. please note though that this account is not my entire life. this is not where i spend most of my time. i have other things i need to do, thus i do not have time to monitor every single person who interacts with me. this accounts sole intent is to simply share what i make, and i hope that those too young to interact will respect that its not for them, because at the end of the day theres truly only so much i can do.

you are making this sound predatory when its just me being overly avoidant of interacting with others, which by proxy has lead to me giving lackluster precautions which is worthy of criticism on its own. you dont need to make it into something bigger. i agree that i probably couldve set better boundaries, but at the end of the day i dont use these accounts alot and i try to mind my own business, because frankly i dont like having alot of eyes on me. but the negligence of my accounts is definitely an oversight on my end, so for that i do apologize. i had added the 16+ rating before i started posting raunchier stuff, and its kinda snowballed since. so either way it likely is time for an update