#and how when she gets back he probably felt so much joy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pinescent-and-gingerbread · 2 months

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˖✧ Through my eyes

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Summary: Karen explains Mary and Arthur's story to you. Saddened, you're convinced you could never compete with her until the man in question proves you wrong. ✦ Warnings/Tags: Self-depreciation from both sides, kissing, comfort, fluff. Reader has been with the gang for a year. Use of Y/N. ✦ Words: 2,8k ✦ a/n: This is the answer to this ask by the lovely @crystalofmoon19. I really hope you'll like it, dear! And thank you for your support, you've been really sweet to me and my work! As always, I got carried away and wrote way too much. And as always, please reach out to me if you spot any misspellings. Also idk why I made this in Colter, guess I just feel way too hot rn and want some fresh snow + Arthur's coat is perfect for comfort. Credits. Arthur's pic is from my playthrough. Other pics are not mine found them on Pinterest.

“And in the end, she rejected his proposal, then a few months later, sent him a letter telling she was marrying some wealthier gentleman!”

Your mouth hangs open in the air. Karen’s words enter through your ears and create a nice little nest for themselves in your brain. You had no idea. No idea Arthur had been this close to being married. That their relationship had been so strong, that, according to hearsays, he had reached his lowest after their break up, drunk most part of the day, fighting the rest of the time, obnoxious to everyone, even Dutch and Hosea.

“Y/N? You’re okay, there?” Karen asked you, disappointed her big reveal had left you reactionless.

You focused your gaze back on her. Her blonde hair is softly litten up by the setting sun, her breath exhaling a puff of steam as she breathes. Colter is a cold place, and it probably felt even colder because of the morose mood of the gang. You suddenly remember you’re supposed to be shocked. You are, of course, but in a very bad way. Not in an “Oh my God, I can’t believe this Karen, so much gossip!” kind of way.

How could you ever compete with that?

“Yeah, I’m alright. God, I had no idea so much happened between them.”

“Oh, trust me, it was definitely his biggest love story. Never saw him get into someone else after her. Not even Mary-Beth! Could you believe that?”

No, you couldn’t. You weren’t sure why but every word from Karen felt like an enormous stone falling into your belly and dragging you deeper and deeper into the sea. Your silly little crush on Arthur, when you first joined the gang a year ago, had turned into a way stronger attraction. Denying it at first, you had little by little let your emotions win, cherishing every moment with him, thanking Dutch for assigning both of you to the same missions, loving the quiet evenings where he would just sit next to you around the campfire to scribble in his journal while you would do your little hobby on your own. Silent most, but enjoying each other’s company, and so, so peaceful.

More than your emotions, you even had let your imagination take the lead, dreaming about a selfish future with him, seeing it every time he would give you a smile, or laugh at one of your jokes. A happy Arthur, relieved from his obligations, enjoys life's simplest joys. A house, a garden. Maybe a dog, considering he had loved having Copper. A marriage even. And why not a child? If he would feel ready. Something in you was telling you he would be a good father.

But now, you felt like this dream was rotten, condemned. Like a broken match. The fire, the very thing it’s designed for, not being able to be lit. Would never be lit. A wasted potential.

You tried to continue your gossiping chat with Karen, voice light but gaze elusive as you peeled the potatoes you were supposed to prepare while discussing, tedious tasks often ended up less difficult this way when you were working with the other girls. But behind your seemingly normal smile and hollow words, a haunting thought was hanging on to you as strongly as a rock trapped in a thousand-year-old iceberg.

Arthur never fell in love again after Mary Linton.

Night had definitely fallen on the frozen mountains. After your endless vegetables centered-chores, you had helped Mr. Pearson turning them into a decent meal, his incessant blattering about the Navy giving you some sort of distraction. During dinner and after though, once you didn’t have any goal or job left to do for the day, your conversation with Karen came back into your wandering mind, her speech playing again and again like a used gramophone record.

Never fell in love again...

Sitting at one of the corners of the big cabin you had been sleeping in for the past few days along with the girls and some other gang members which mainly served as a common space, you were looking outside by a dilapidated window. A frozen World spread out before your eyes, every inch of surface covered in snow and ice, the landscape ending up looking like it was coated with a thick strange substance —dark blue colors Queen of this gloomy, misty horizon.

Arthur had returned from a very busy hunting day with Charles. Thanks to them, meat had been added to the vegetable paradise of a meal, resulting in a better-than-usual supper. He should have felt cheerful, but his mood wouldn't lighten.

He had spotted you from across the room, noticing the hurtful absence of your smile on these sweet lips of yours. Smile he secretly loved. Lips he secretly fancied.

Hesitating for a long moment, debating with himself, a self-depreciative rambling turning in his head like a well-oiled motor, he had ultimately decided to join you and investigate. Something pretty important must been bothering you, because loosing your usual little grin and eating your plate all by yourself really wasn't in your habits.

Approaching you, his boots and spurs clicking and stomping before you could see him, he plants them in front of you, standing there while his eyes lock on your face.

“Miss Y/L/N? Is everythin’ okay?”

“Oh, Mr Morgan. Yeah, don’t worry. Everything is great.”

He doesn’t believe you and honestly, you wouldn’t have convinced yourself either. And Arthur is a stubborn man. A stubborn, and caring one. He leans against the cabin's old creaky walls, on the other side of the window.

“Come on, don’t lie t’me girl. Everyone noticed you’re not in your right mind.” He honestly doesn’t know about everyone, but he surely did. His words are accompanied by a small, polite smile.

“I don’t think… I don’t think you’re the right person to talk about it.”

Arthur’s entire body froze. The hands he had on his belt as always when he was comfortable, flew to his chest as he crossed his arms, his thick winter coat folding with difficulty. His encouraging smile flattened, his brows pleating in a harsh frown.

“Erm… Alright, I get it. I won’t bother you, I guess.”

Without loosening his arms, he pushed himself from the wall, taking a step to leave you some space. You couldn’t have missed it. This change of behavior, the hurtful expression he had displayed, as if he was truly pained by your words. Disappointed, maybe even shameful to have thought he could help you at all. He was just a sad, ugly bastard, after all.

You felt like you could hear all of it from where you were, and see it in the shadow that had taken his face and the gigantic mass that seemed to have fallen on his shoulders.

No, you didn’t want this. Didn’t want him to feel like that because of you and your stupid feelings, or your own dark thoughts.

“Wait, Arthur!”

He turned around the second you talked again.

“I’m sorry it’s just…” You sigh and look at him with an uncertain expression, knowing your next words were going to be risky. “It’s about you and Mary Linton…”

His eyes turn into two literal plates, his mouth slightly opening in outer astonishment. This was really not what he had in mind. You could have been sad because of a hundred logical reasons, the death of Davey and the loss of Sean and Mac, the complete fiasco of Blackwater, the hundred of dollars lost, the terrible and tough conditions of the Grizzlies plunging everyone into an unbearable cold and a threatening famine. Not mentioning Hosea’s alarming coughing, Dutch’s mysterious decisions, and Micah as a whole.

But you, out of all these things, were worried about Mary.

Once his eyes had grown as round as they could, they got back into an interrogative expression, the wave of surprise over.

“Wha’…?! How d’ya even know ‘bout her?”

“Karen speaks a lot when she’s bored…” You briefly explained, trying to sound detached.

Arthur rolls his eyes to the Heavens. Of course, folks talked, and you had to know about it all at some point. But this wasn’t ideal at all. He would have preferred to tell it to you himself, at a time he would have felt comfortable doing so, with his own words. He didn’t want this to change anything between the two of you.

“And erm… What exactly bothers ya?”

You open your mouth to speak, but your words are jammed. Explaining that you feel jealous of what the both of them had shared would just come down to confessing your feelings for him plain and simple.

You felt completely stuck.

He’s right there before your eyes, the very source of all your worries and your every joy. Looking at you with those confused blue eyes, wondering what is happening in this pretty head of yours. But the words still won’t come out. You feel more and more powerless, and instead of a sound, your eyes take over to get something out of your body, slow and sad tears filling them like a lonely glacier fills a mountain lake on its own.

Arthur’s usual frown furrows, his wrinkles more visible, contrasted by the shadows from the warm lights of the fire. Suddenly, his internal melancholic speech shuts down, as if the view of a single tear streaming down your cheek were absolutely intolerable to him. No worries nor anxious self-restraints crosses his mind —it’s now only instinct. He sees you crying. He has to help you. This is as easy as that.

His right hand reaches to you by itself.

It feels warm but coarse. This big, big hand on the side of your face.

“Oh, Y/N. Don’t waste those pretty tears for a sour-faced idiot like me.” His thumb gently wipes the drops of sadness that had overflowed from your two delicate lakes. “Come on, les’ jus’ talk about this somewhere quiet.”

Arthur gently uses the hand he had on your cheek to wrap it around your shoulders, solid arm gently pushing you up. He then leads you through the door, other members throwing curious gazes at the both of you.

But he doesn’t care. His priority, right now, is your well-being, and some privacy to allow him to finally whisper things in your ears he should have a long time ago. Not in front of everyone. Not with the other men looking at your sparkling eyes, and listening to the change in his voice he knew would crack, his usual intimidating persona crushed into a million pieces with only the sound of your own. Or with the other girls hearing the oh-so-important words he had to say. No. You would be the only one to witness this.

He had brought you to the barn where the horses were kept. The snow was falling lazily, a few flakes passing through the holes in the dilapidated roof. The place is enveloped in a heavy silence, as if it was muffling every sound coming from the outside.

Once Arthur had closed the big wooden doors behind you and before he could do anything else, you finally burst.

“I shouldn't cry, I’m so sorry Arthur, I just… She looked like an incredible woman, so beautiful a-and distinguished, and me well… I'm just… me.” Your eyes fell to your feet. You like everything was coming out of you all at once and you couldn't contain it anymore.

“Stop it.”

“How could I ever mean something to you? You've been with her for so long and even proposed to her and… and never fell in love again after her and…”

“Stop it, Y/N!”

Arthur cut your blabbering panic by pulling you against him. He held you so tightly you were almost crushed by his powerful arms, but it felt so good. Like he was holding together all the little pieces of you that had cracked, melting them with his warmth and molding yourself again with it.

“Now you l’sten to me, sweetheart. I don’t want ya to say things like this ever again.”

The sudden use of the pet name soothed your heart immediately. You buried your face into the furred collar of his big winter coat, the hairs tickling your nose. There, you can feel a little bit of his bare skin, your cheek finding shelter against it.

You stopped talking.

You just wanted him to continue to. His deep voice seemed to come directly from the inside of his chest, and you could feel it vibrating before actually hearing it.

“Ya know I’m no… Am no poet or, or good with words like Dutch…” He started, visibly unsure of what he was going to say. He’s relieved he had initiated the hug, this way, with your face in there, you couldn’t see his. The worried expression it was carrying, like a burden. “But lemme tell ya just how much I care about ya. Oh, my sweet girl.”

This is it. He tries not to but his low tone begins to tremble. It’s so strange. It feels like forever since that happened for the last time.

“Yeah, Mary has been a real’ important part of my life, I won’t lie to ya. But it was so long ago, gorgeous. So long ago.”

He knows he won’t shed a tear. He never cries. But his hands shake. His vocal cords vibrate in a vulnerable, softer, and higher-pitched quaver. His body tenses, heart as fast as if racing with a million wild horses galloping in the Great Plains. Even if his words couldn’t explain just how much you meant to him, you could have guessed by how you were affecting his entire flesh.

“Ya know what? It’s true. Our story ended badly. I never fell in love again after her.”

You sigh, more tears wetting your face and his blue coat, this truth so hard to swallow.

“Until that morning, when I saw you brushing Boadicea’s mane; your hair all covered in hay, the brightest smile I ever had the chance to witness on that sweet face o’ yours. That day, I knew my stupid foolish heart had done it all over again.”

You let out a single chuckle mixed with tears and emotions, so relieved. Even when you felt like you were at your lowest, he succeeded at making you smile.

“Grimshaw had forced me to groom all the gang’s horses to “get used to camp’s work”. Must have looked terrible.” You remembered with a smile, details of your first encounter with Arthur flooding your mind.

“You looked like a goddamn Angel, honey. T’was like the sun was shining jus’ for ya. Jesus, I knew it was too late for me.”

You pulled back from him just a little, enough for you to look at him in the eyes, but not for him to let go of you. Now that they had found you, his hands, still slightly quivering, refused to let go, their place on your back and behind your head feeling so natural and right. Your eyes behave the same way as them but with his face. He looks so moved that you have to pinch yourself internally to make sure you’re not dreaming this whole thing; never in your life you had seen him like this.

“I love you too, Arthur.” You confessed back to him, fingers cupping his cheeks in a delicate touch.

You had to stand on your tiptoes to reach his face, but his arm helped you, your lips gently discovering themselves, brushing against each other in a soft and shy caress. Even if both your mouths were chapped by the biting cold, it was the most gentle kiss you had shared in your life, a satiny embrace that left you completely dreamy and light-headed.

The snowflakes silently swirl around the both of you, Nature the only witness of your souls melting into each other.

Opening your eyes again after this moment out of time, you're met with the happiest smile Arthur ever had on his face. He looked like and idiot in love, and you were sure you looked exactly the same.

“Please darlin’, don’t ever compare yourself to her ever again. What’s in the past stays there. And I wanna have a future with you.”

Your dreams sprang back straight from your heart to your mind. The visions you had about the both of you were more alive than ever, reinforced by his own needs shared with yours.

“You’re sweet, you’re funny, you’re so smart and stunningly gorgeous. And, you wan’ a proof?” He playfully asks you, taking his hat off his head, a thin layer of snow falling from it.

Turning it over, he carefully pull a piece of paper out, hidden between two leathered segments in the inner part of his hat. His cut and reddened fingers unfold it and he gives it to you, his big smile turning into an embarrassed and sheepish one.

It’s a sketch of you.

You’re mesmerized by the details of it, the blades of hay messily tangled in your hair, the sparkling in your eyes, the exact clothes you were wearing that day. This smile, you’re more than certain he drew it way more beautiful than it really is. Arthur even had added some lines traced from your head to the end of the paper, as if you were the Sun itself and were emitting your own light.

This was impossible this was the same person as you, her beauty was too radiant and fascinating.

But no matter what you thought about yourself, seeing his work curled your lips in the exact same way as yourself on the drawing. With snowflakes replacing the twigs, you had turned into the living recreation of it. Arthur laughed when he noticed, and realized just how much he had loved you and continued to since that morning from a year ago. He bent towards you to put a small kiss on your forehead.

“Arthur it’s… It’s beautiful.” You find it difficult to find another word, speechless once again.

You also had no idea of how talented at drawing nor attracted to you he was. This day definitely was full of surprises. You chuckled fondly before taking a last look at your portrait and giving it back to your lover. But Arthur’s large palm wrapped around your hand.

“No, please, keep it. This way, you’ll always remember how you look through my eyes.”

More tears threaten to escape your own, even though those were a direct extract from the immeasurable happiness you were experiencing.

“And... Now that I don’t have to hide myself while sketching ya, I’m going to draw lots of new ones.”

tagging: @a-court-of-valkyries Thank you for reading all of this! Also, I didn't know this was a thing but if ever you want to be tagged in my works too, let me know! It would be my pleasure.

#Okaaaay this is super cheesy but I like it!#please comforting Arthur heal our hearts #Also this is the second time I write a love confession in here and def not the last time #Hope I won't repeat myself too much.#rdr2 #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x you #rdr2 arthur #arthur morgan fluff #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan fic #arthur morgan comfort #pinefic

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mountainsandmayhem · 2 months

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BDSMaid - Chapter 3

Pairing: Millionaire!Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Rating: E, 18+, Minors dni

Series Summary: After recently graduating from university, your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. It’s only temporary and a good way to save money for when you go back to get your law degree. That’s what you’re promised at least. Easy. Simple. Mundane. That is, until one of your clients is home and everything that you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.

Chapter Summary: You decide it's time to put yourself on Joel's radar.

CW: Age gap (Joel 45, Reader 22), dual POV. Specific warnings in small red below the cut, do not read to avoid spoilers.

WC: 10k. Sorry, grab a snack!

AN: I'm continuously surprised by the love, excitement and joy that this story brings anyone but me. That probably doesn't even make sense, I'm just lost for words, tbh. Forehead kisses to @mermaidgirl30, @littlevenicebitch69, @joelmillerisapunk, and @milla-frenchy for screaming with me or pre reading this for me. @lotusbxtch gets a forehead kiss and a tip of the nose kiss for deep dive beta reading this, she's solely responsible for every semi colon.

Series Masterlist || My Masterist

I no longer have a tag list, please follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates to be alerted for future chapters.

Content Warnings: Flirty, alcohol consumption, mentions of sexual acts, kissing, mutual pining, reader being pinned against a wall, sexual tension, touching. Reader does have some description so may be considered more of an OFC.

The week after Joel removed you from his club goes by in a well-scheduled blur. You work your usual three days, cleaning mansions of people who don’t tip as well as Mister Miller. You pour yourself over LSAT study guides, practicing insane logic questions. You enjoy a coffee date with Jamie who asks you what happened the night at the poker game. You tell her a practiced lie that feels like acid on your tongue as it leaves your lips. You hate lying to your friends, especially her. You can feel that lie sitting heavily on the top of your stomach the entire time you’re with her, but you simply cannot afford to get fired with three years of law school on the horizon. You spend an evening with your roommate, Odette, watching Netflix and eating dumplings from her favourite spot, the only spot in Austin that has those little white paper boxes with the red writing.

If you decide not to lie to yourself, on top of everyone else, you also spend at least an hour a day watching videos of women tied up and dominated, thinking of Joel goddamn Miller the entire time. Since learning his full name, and the name of his club, the Google searches you swore you’d stop doing have been much more productive. You’ve found multiple blogs and Reddit posts, not just about kink, but also about Joel. It turns out that he’s well-known in the kink and BDSM communities around the world, but is essentially changing the face of kink in Austin.

One night, you get lost in a Reddit wormhole of women in Texas, and one in Paris, who have been a submissive for a man that sounds a lot like Joel. They don’t actually mention him by name but there’s advice on what he likes and doesn’t like, and how he never actually has sex with any of his submissives. It also sounds like some of these women pay him to be their dom, and, based on the conversations in the comments of one thread, it seems like he has a few submissives at the moment, and majority of their interactions happen at the club.

The club. Fuck, Jamie wasn’t kidding when she said JMK was exclusive. Anyone can join, assuming you can pay the yearly membership fees that, according to Reddit, are around $80,000 per year. From the minimal, cryptic information you find, Joel Miller is the main owner and he has two business partners. One you assume is his brother that you served the other night, but the third you are unable to find any information about.

Since everything you find online is up to interpretation, it’s hard to say what is and isn’t true. According to one disgruntled poster, once you become a member at JMKink, there are a lot of rules to follow. Everyone has to get tested monthly; it’s highly recommended that women are on birth control; and even if you’re married to the guest you bring, men must wear condoms. You can’t just bring anyone in with you: every member and their guest has an app, and the only way to get that app is from a QR code and an assigned activation code. According to another poster, the app is full of waivers and consent forms. You can’t stop the shy smile that crosses your face when you remember how concerned Joel was with your consent the first time you met.

The Monday before your usual every-other-Tuesday shift at Joel’s, you find a blog post about becoming a submissive, and it’s like it was written just for you. The writer explains how she had a hard time shutting off her brain and how, by the end of the day, she was so exhausted from making decisions that all she wanted was someone to tell her what to do for once. This led to her and her husband exploring a sub/dom partnership. Now, she feels lighter and freer; they’ve both discovered new ways to get pleasure outside of the idea of sex that society feeds us. Being a submissive isn’t always about orgasms or pleasure; it’s helped her build confidence, and she’s found that as they progress, that little voice that tells her she isn't good enough has stopped being so loud.

After reading through the post a few times, you shut your rose gold laptop and stare at the wall behind your desk. You feel seen, heard even though you didn’t speak. At first, you found yourself feeling ashamed of getting off to these videos, like there was something wrong with you for being turned on by it, but it’s really that ability to let go of control that you crave, the feeling of someone else making the decisions for once. You want that, but more so, you think you need that, and badly.

As a firm believer of ‘everything happens for a reason,’ it all comes together for you. You aren’t even nervous as the thought consumes you. If Joel shows up at his house, tomorrow I’m going to ask him to teach me.

On Tuesday, you do as you always do, following Joel’s instructions to a tee while listening to a podcast. However, today you only wear one AirPod in hopes of hearing that familiar and comforting engine rev that signals him either coming or going. Every creak or pop of the house causes your heart to flutter, but it’s never him. Much to your chagrin, Joel doesn’t come home.

Inside the envelope is that expensive matte black paper again, ‘Thanks -JM’ neatly written along it.

Great, you think to yourself sarcastically, we are on initial terms again.

Twelve hundred dollars is tucked into the envelope this time, you roll your eyes after thumbing the crisp green bills. The first tip you ever got from him felt sincere, but after walking in on him, and everything since then, it’s feeling more and more like apology money. You shouldn’t complain; people would kill to make this kind of money, but everything would be so much easier if he’d just fucking talk to you.

Your fingers run along the thick, rich paper that he uses as company letterhead. You can’t explain it, but the paper feels like Joel. It’s rough and thick, yet has a vulnerability to it, like you could easily destroy it with just a pinch of your fingers and a flick of your wrist. Your mind flashes back to his club the other night. He was literally begging you to leave, you can still hear it, the pleading in his voice as he said, “I’m sorry. I just can’t have you here, this is on me”. Your fingers trail across the golden ink of his neat handwriting and then open the paper the rest of the way. At the very bottom of the page, in shiny black print similar to the JMK logo at the top, is a phone number. Your heart slams against your ribcage as your eyes scan across the numbers.

When you get home, you unfold the note on your kitchen counter and pace the three or four steps it takes to walk the length of your small kitchen, never taking your eyes off the paper, looking at it like it’s a live bomb or like it’s going to disappear if you let it out of your sight. This is it: you could call the office, make an appointment or something. You’d probably have to lie, but you just need to see him; you need to make a case for yourself. Your stomach lurches, throat tightening at the thought of being in the club with him again. You open the freezer and grab the bottle of tequila, taking a big swig right from the bottle. It’s a cold burn and you clench your eyes as you swallow it down. Your body shivers involuntarily.

You dial before you can talk yourself out of it and before you know it you have an appointment under a fake name to speak to Joel tomorrow afternoon before your study group meets. You take two more large gulps of tequila after hanging up the phone.

Fuck, this is really happening. You take another large sip of the frozen tequila for good measure, your nose scrunching up at the taste.

Joel’s office isn’t attached to the club, it’s in a smaller building across the street and that has seemed to tamp some of the nerves that are vibrating your very core. Still, you can stop from nervously smoothing the wrinkles that have formed on the short, flowing skirt of your white sundress as you sit on the red velvet couch across from Joel’s receptionist. She is a small woman with a chin length bob, she’s probably in her late fifties and you wonder if her kids or grandkids know that she works for the owner of a kink club, or maybe she’s part of the community too. You’ve done copious amounts of research; kink isn’t just for young people, and you suppose Joel isn’t exactly young either. For all you know, she very well could be a dominatrix in her spare time.

She says your fake name in a soothing tone as she stands and walks towards the tall black door, pulling it open effortlessly. “Go on in, sweetheart. Joel’s ready for you.”

You smile at her sweetly, tucking your hair behind your ear nervously as you walk over the threshold to try to convince the millionaire whose home you clean to dominate you. The air in his large, bright office feels heavy and thick. Blood rushes through your ears as he looks up at you from his seat. He slips off his 1950’s style black horn rimmed glasses and places them on his desk. A muscle in his jaw ticks as he assesses you. Your heart lurches, knees trembling as you take a few nervous steps towards his desk. As his eyes meet yours you feel it again, that exposed and naked feeling that only his gaze seems to be able to cast. Maybe you shouldn’t have worn such a short dress, but it’s an unseasonably warm March day and even before leaving your apartment you were sweating in a mix of nervousness and excitement.

You see his lips move, but you can’t hear him over the pounding of your heart. You stop just past the door, then hear it click shut behind you. Joel’s silky lips move again and this time you hear your name followed by a calm, “What’re you doin’ here?”

The words come out before you even think about them, you practically yell them at him, “I want you to teach me.”

His hand waves to the chairs across his desk. When you don’t move he harshly says, “Sit.”

You rush across his expansive office, the plush carpet feels luxurious under your shoes. When you reach the black leather chair you sit on the very edge of the seat, your knee nervously bouncing up and down in time with your heart.

“You want me to do what?” He asks hesitantly, leaning forward in his chair. He looks absolutely beautiful in the late afternoon sun - orange hues reflecting off his tanned skin, the few greys along his temples glistening like the moon on the ocean. He’s in a black dress shirt again, his sleeves rolled to his elbows. You noticed today that he’s wearing a black watch and a gold ring on his right ring finger. Between his accessories and the veins that line his toned forearms your mouth goes dry.

“I - umm, I want you to teach me.”

The last word has barely passed your lips when he scoffs out, “No.”

Your face falls, “Joel, please. I’ve been doing research and I’ve decided that, well, that I want to be…that.”

He places his large palms on the desk, the square black diamond in his ring glittering in the sun, and pushes himself up. You crane your neck to look at him as he slips his hands into his pockets, his eyes already locked on yours. His intense eye contact wraps you up in a weighted blanket of safety and comfort, which is a dangerous and vulnerable place, a place that has the ability to rip you in half, much like you could do with that company letterhead he left you. He walks slowly to the other side of his desk. Once in front of you, he leans back onto it, keeping his hands in the pockets of his perfectly tailored black dress pants.

“You can’t even say it.” He challenges.

You furrow your brows, ready to confront him like you always seem to do. In the few interactions you’ve had with Joel, more often than not, it’s been him trying to tell you what to do, you fighting him over it, and then him ultimately winning. It’s infuriating, but not this time. No, this time you’re going to win. You have valid reasons to want this, and they’re all backed up by your research. You are leaving this office as his submissive.

“I can too!”

He shrugs his broad shoulders nonchalantly, “Say it then. You wanna learn how to do what, sweetheart?”

You sit up tall on the edge of the chair, crossing your arms under your breasts, praying your cheeks don’t flush as you finally admit it out loud. “I want to learn how to be a submissive.”

“No.” One of his meaty hands comes out of his pocket, waving you off as he says it again.

“Please!” You plead, “I want to learn how to be a sub.”

Joel actually squirms at the sound of you being so needy. He lets out a harsh ‘fuck’ under his breath and then whispers your name, “I can’t do this with you.”

Got him, you think to yourself, failing to fight the smirk as you lower your voice and sweetly beg, “Please, Mister Miller?”

Joel ‘Your-Consent-is-Most-Important’ Miller is not a small man: his broad shoulders take up almost an entire door frame and he’s easily nearing six foot four, but at the sound of you calling him the one name he’s asked you not to, he moves faster than your brain can comprehend. You gasp as he lunges towards you, his hands landing on the arms of the chair, his wide shoulders pushing you back as he cages you in. Your exposed back hits the back of the chair, your short skirt riding up your thighs slightly. He is practically on top of you and for a second you can imagine that this is what having sex with him would look like. His knuckles blanch from gripping the arms of the chair so tightly, his eyes are practically black, and that familiar flush he gets when you challenge him paints his neck and cheeks.

His voice is deeper, thick with arousal, rattling your bones as he speaks slowly, “I said not to call me that. You can’t even…You can’t.” He shuts his eyes and takes a slow breath in through his nose. His tone softens as he opens his eyes, “No, I ain’t doin’ this with you, sweet girl.”

You practically writhe in your chair. Sweet girl. He’s terrifying and commanding and so fucking beautiful like this. He obviously has a soft spot for when you beg, so you soften your eyes and stick out your velvety smooth bottom lip enticingly before whispering, “Please, Joel.”

He lets out a groan as he pushes himself off the chair and walks towards the large wall of windows behind his desk, his hands resting on his tapered waist. He avoids your gaze as you sit up, squeezing your thighs together tightly to calm the need at your core. “Lemme set ya up with someone else. My brother Tommy. You were gettin’ him a drink at that poker game.”

“I remember,” you mumble, looking down at your hands like you always do when your lack of confidence gets the best of you. You can’t let that self-doubt creep in now, not when you’re this close. You look back towards his broad back. “But I really don’t want anyone else.”

“Why?” He spins towards you, the lighting behind him gives him an almost ethereal glow. There’s absolutely no denying it, Joel Miller is the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen.

You tuck your hands under your legs, simply stating, “I trust you.”

“You don’t even know me. I could be a horrible guy.”

You let out a sad laugh, shaking your head at him. He’s right, you don’t know him, but you have a feeling about him and you consider yourself pretty good at reading people. “You’ve never given me reason to think I couldn’t trust you. Even that first day. You were so calm and apologetic.”

Joel presses his lips in a thin line, eyes raking over you. You subconsciously slip your bottom lip between your teeth, and a muscle in his jaw flexes. “How old are you?”

“Twenty two,” you immediately regret lying; the avenue of trust is of utmost importance between a submissive and their dominant, so you quickly add, “Almost, I turn twenty two on Friday.”

“I can’t do this.” He croaks and you can’t help but feel a little bad. You’ve put him in an uncomfortable position and his voice sounds defeated.

“Please. I always felt I needed more but,” you stand up and take a few slow steps in his direction. “But…I didn’t know what more was and I - I think it’s this.” You audibly swallow pleading, “Please. I need you to help me. I want you to help me. Teach me.”

He holds his hands up and steps back as you inch closer. A silent call that signals you to stop or that he doesn’t trust himself, not here, not with you. “Jus’ let me set ya up with Tommy. You’re his type.”

Your heart sinks and an acidic taste lines your tongue. Of course. You aren’t that tall, slender icy blonde girl he had strapped to his desk. No, you have curves, and stretch marks along your hips, your boobs are a B cup on a good day. He can get whatever woman he wants, why would it be you? You look down at your hands, pushing back the nonexistent cuticle on your right thumb. This nervous habit of yours used to drive your mom crazy, ‘you’re going to have no skin left soon’ she’d lecture, but you can’t help it. The immediate result of the nail bed looking clean and perfect is like a dopamine hit. It leaves you with a feeling of accomplishment. The problem is, the initial confidence you had about this decision on Monday night has dwindled and you’ve been so anxious about this meeting that every single finger has a nicely pushed back cuticle.

It’s silent in the room for a while, you shut your eyes as you sheepishly ask, “Am I not attractive enough for you?”

“No!” He says insistently and without hesitation. His hand runs through his beard, a faint scratching sound fills the room drawing your eyes open and away from the skin of your thumb. As they land back on him you wonder what his patchy facial hair would feel like between your legs or along the soft skin of your stomach as he kissed you. His voice softens, “That’s not it. I just - I’m sorry. I jus’ can’t do this, sweetheart.”

You feel your chance to become the woman you want to be slipping through your fingers. Your plan is failing and for once in your life you don’t have a Plan B, this is the only plan that makes sense to you. Sadness creeps into your throat, “Why?”

“‘S not a good idea, sweet girl,” he answers, his soft brown sugar flecked eyes reaching out to yours.

His face and voice seem to be at war with his words. He’s saying no, but there’s a sadness in his eyes and a caring undertone to his voice. You’re not sure how you know it, but him calling you sweet girl means something to him. “Because I’m not your type?”

He shakes his head, that same curl falling into his eyes as it did in his foyer the other day. “That’s the problem, you’re exactly my type.”

Hearing that you’re this beautiful man's type should feel like you’ve won the lottery, but the way his shoulders slump as he says it only builds that lump in your throat. As you swallow the sadness down, his eyes travel to your neck, watching as the muscles flex and relax with the motion. “I - then why?”

He lets out a long breath and as he walks to the door he says, “I ain’t havin’ this conversation. I said no. And someone who is cut out to be a submissive would just take that answer for what it is.”

“You’ve made it clear that I’m not a submissive,” you counter and walk towards the door. He cracks the door open and you step in close to him, unconsciously taking in his leather and ash scent before adding, “Have a nice night, Mister Miller.”

Joel

The door feels like a feather behind his hand as he slams it shut - your body, warm and already vibrating, trapped between him and the solid piece of wood that separates the two of you from his receptionist. He made himself a promise in his rear view mirror the other week; he had to cut this off, create distance. He needed you to be just his house cleaner. Because everytime he looks into your eyes he feels the same way he felt at seventeen when he met Tiffany in that garage. Everything about you oozes sweetness and innocence, his sweetheart, his sweet girl. He didn’t think he was capable of feeling that way again. And he definitely should not feel this way for someone who is younger than his own daughter.

His large frame looms behind you, forcing your chest and forehead to rest against the door. He uses his foot to spread your legs wide. A breathy gasp passes your lips as your hands scramble for purchase against the wood grain of the door. He keeps pushing your legs apart, wide enough for your short white skirt to ride up your creamy thighs. Thighs he’s imagined wrapped tightly around his head as he makes you scream.

Joel takes a small step forward, caging you completely, making it so you’re completely at his mercy. He can smell the sweet scent of your arousal growing between your thighs; he knows if he reaches a calloused finger to the gusset of your panties they’d be soaked through. His cock is hard as steel, pressing against the zipper of his pants and the small of your back. You’re practically panting and he fights to keep his breathing steady when really he wants to mirror the quick, uneven pace of your breath. This is much more serious and intimate than when he had you trapped in the chair. This is dangerous. This could lead to more.

His strong fingers wrap around your dainty wrists. He loves the way you don’t fight him as he pulls them above your head, gathering both your wrists in one of his hands, pinning them to the door roughly. His free hand draws a slow line down your arm, then along the sensitive skin of your neck, and down your spine. Goosebumps break out over your skin and you instinctively arch your back into him, a desperate whine passes from your lips between laboured breaths, and that sound nearly buckles his knees.

His lips come to the shell of your ear, his beard tickling you as he speaks in a slow and commanding tone. “Do you feel what you do to me when you call me that. I’ve asked you not to. Multiple times.”

Your mint and lavender scented shampoo fills his nose as he nudges at you to tilt open your throat to him. He revels in how easily you oblige, cocking your head to the side like the good little girl he knows you are. He continues, lips just a hair away from your pulse point; he’s sure if he pressed his lips to it he’d feel how hard your heart is racing. “But I don’t want you to stop. In fact, I fucking love that you haven’t stopped.”

Your soft skin is warm against his rough fingers as they continue their trail down your body, running over the firm globe of one of your ass cheeks. He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and bites down hard, distracting himself from the urge to spank you for calling him Mister Miller yet again. Finally, his fingers find a home on one of your thighs. He brushes lightly against your soft inner thighs, small little touches jumping from one leg to the other. The little involuntary twitches of your body and the needy little gasps of air you suck through your teeth has his cock straining painfully against his zipper. He’s aching for you in a way he hasn’t felt for years.

“You infuriate me with your insubordination and it makes me weak,” he mutters. “Makes me absolutely insane. I can’t stop fucking thinking about what’s underneath those clothes, and after seeing your perfect breasts and your little pink nipples… fuuuuck, baby. All I can think about is how good they’d look with my handprints tattooed on them after I slap them while you orgasm. Can’t stop thinking about how wet your little pussy must get. How tight she would be around my fingers as I claim her as mine. How fucking delicious she must taste. How goddamn sexy your cries of pain and pleasure would sound.”

Your whole body shudders against his. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you and he knows he needs to stop before he crosses a line, but the way your body responds to him is precisely how he likes it: pliant and ready. His mind reels with all the naughty things he’d like to do to you. If he reaches just a little bit higher he could finally know how you sound when you come, how silky your cunt is, how you taste. He runs the tip of his hooked nose down your neck, the light citrus of your perfume replacing the scent of your shampoo.

“That what you wanna hear?” Joel continues. “How fucking weak you make me? How desperate? I can’t do this because once I start…I ain’t gonna be able to let you go. Ain’t gonna be able to stop. Never gonna be able to have any other little play thing. It’s just you, sweet girl, only you. If I start this, this is it for me.”

Joel releases your wrists with a growl and walks away, carding his fingers through his curls and looking out at the cityscape as the sun begins to dip behind the tall buildings. He doesn’t look back, he can’t look back or he’ll fucking crack. He’ll haul you over his shoulder and take you into his club. He’ll show you everything right now and he won’t stop. His eyes flutter closed as he takes controlled breaths to slow his heart rate, the unmistakable sound of his office door opening and closing behind him.

You

You yank the door open and walk as fast as your legs will take you, your mind swirling, every emotion trying to win for first place. You’re painfully turned on, you can feel how soaked your panties are. It’s just you, sweet girl, only you. It’s like it’s been carved into your brain. Only you. You jam at the elevator close button as your lungs scream for fresh air, and as you step out into the warm spring night you suck in breath for what feels like the first time since you made this appointment last night.

Your phone vibrates in the small purse you have across your body. He doesn’t have your number, you remind yourself as you reach for your phone. Jamie’s name across your slightly cracked screen. “Hey!”

“Are you ok?” her voice is thick with concern.

Your chest feels tight, “Ya, why?”

“You sound like you're out of breath.”

You laugh a little, “Oh. I was..” fuck, what was I doing. “I mean I am walking. Like on a walk.”

Even a toddler wouldn’t be convinced by your lie, and Jamie isn’t either as she gasps loudly on the other end before whispering, “Were you having sex?”

“No! God no!” Your clit twitches at the thought of how close Joel was today. “I’m on the street, can’t you hear the cars.”

“Ok. You do need some sex though,” she laughs.

“Jamie,” you sigh, “I have to get to a study group. What’s up?”

She giggles devilishly. “Wellll - It’s your birthday weekend. I want to throw you a party at this really amazing club on Friday.”

“Umm, ya. Sure. Nothing too crazy though, right?”

“Promise you can keep your top on this time, prude.” She says teasingly and you laugh. “It’s called Mystique. The owner is an old family friend and she gave us a sweet VIP booth and bottle service, all completely free!”

You slide your key into the door of your SUV to unlock it, “Ok. Let’s do it.”

“Good, because I already invited the girls.” You sigh and your phone buzzes in your ear as Jamie’s computer dings on the other end. “Oh, weird. Your regular every other Tuesday clean just requested for you to go on Friday. Weren’t you just there yesterday?”

Joel. You say dreamily in your mind.

“That’s shitty,” Jamie continues, “That’s your birthday. The shift is only 4 hours, but I can offer it to someone else if you want.”

“No!” It comes out too eager and you remind yourself to chill the fuck out as you put her on speaker phone and open the app. “I mean, no, that’s ok. I need the money and my calendar shows 11 to 3, lots of time to get ready!”

“Text me when you’re done with your study group and we’ll hammer out the details for Friday night. We didn’t get to celebrate you turning twenty one with your insane schedule -”

“Hey!” You exclaim, pretending to be hurt.

“Ya ya, I know,” her voice an amused sarcasm as she continues, “The master plan to graduate early. Which you did. So can we please make this the best celebration yet?” Even without being able to see your best friend you know she’s dancing excitedly on the balls of her feet while giving big green doe eyes.

Friday rolls around quickly, and you aren’t sure what you’re looking forward to more; a much needed night out with your girlfriends or the possibility of Joel being home today. You’ve tried not to think about how his body felt against yours, but every few hours you found yourself with your hand between your legs, rubbing tight little circles on your clit until you came to thoughts of him, whispering Mister Miller like a church prayer.

Pulling up to his house today feels strange. He requested an extra clean this week just minutes after you asked him to teach you how to sub and after finding out that your birthday was today. You haul your stuff into his house, letting out a frustrated sigh when you find it quiet and empty. You click open your app and he’s asking you to dust and vacuum the basement, as well as wipe out the fridge. You look down at the app confused. He’s never asked you to clean the basement, and the fridge? He doesn’t cook. The eleven thousand dollar fridge is basically just a decoration to fill a gap in the countertops.

You pop in your airpods and head downstairs. The cozy white carpet of the stairs feels like plush clouds under your Keds. As you round the corner of the stairs you see everything that makes someone's house a home. So this is where he keeps it all, you think to yourself.

The short hallway from the stairs to the large open concept basement is covered in photos of Joel at all stages of his life. The first picture that catches your eye is a teenage baby faced Joel and a beautiful young woman sitting on a hospital bed, she’s smiling at the camera as Joel looks down at the tiny bundle of pink blankets in her arms. He looks so happy and soft, and it ignites a small flame of jealousy. Not at the woman, but at the happy little family.

As your eyes scan all the pictures you see that baby at all ages. There’s a picture of her holding a trophy as big as her with little cleats and shin guards on. In another, she and Joel are holding a big fish, her toothless smile bright and brilliant, while something in Joel’s eyes looks sad even though his plush lips are curved up in a sexy smile.

Another picture is of the little girl sitting on her mom’s lap; the woman doesn’t seem as vibrant in this picture. The next one to catch your eye is her holding a cupcake with a candle in the shape of the number sixteen, then him in a pressed black suit and her in her high school cap and gown. The last picture is similar, except it’s a college graduation photo.

As you peel yourself away from all the pictures you haven’t managed to look at yet, you face the main living area, a large open concept space. There’s a cozy grey sectional facing the big screen TV, shelves of DVDs surround it and you can only imagine all the movie nights the two of them had down here. There's a pool table along the far back right side of the room and to the left are a bunch of guitars, both acoustic and electric, hanging on the wall. You walk towards the guitars, there’s a stool and a small table beside the amp. An open notebook with lyrics lays on the table and as tempting as it is to read it, you look away. This space is who Joel is and he’s obviously trusting or testing you by sending you down here. He did tell you that you didn’t know him, and that he could be a bad guy, but everything here screams wholesome family man.

You dust and vacuum, then fluff the couch cushions and fold the blankets nicely. There’s an empty glass on the side table, so you grab that and wash it at the small wet bar before placing it with the other glasses. You take one last longing look at the notebook, it’s tempting but decide you are right to not read it. It’s none of your business what he writes and sings about. You picture him there, dressed casually in sweat pants and t-shirt, his large fingers plucking with a practiced finesse at the strings, you wrapped in a blanket, sitting on the floor with a cup of coffee and a book. The two of you being independently together on a Sunday morning.

Thoughts of the two of you like that are dangerous; being his submissive isn’t being his girlfriend. You’ve been very good at compartmentalizing, mostly as a coping mechanism to your past, so you find a metaphorical little box in the back of your mind to stuff all those feelings and thoughts into. As you gather your cleaning supplies, you take one last look around. maybe this was his way of showing you that you can’t have a future with him, that he’s done with the kids-and-marriage part of his life. None of that matters to you; you don’t want kids and marriage, you just want a partnership, and the support and comfort that comes with it. You want to become a lawyer, and eventually a judge, and one day sit on the supreme court and defend everyone's civil and human rights. That’s the goal, the only goal.

From this point on, any feelings for Joel Miller go in that box. If he ever changes his mind, he is my dominant and nothing else. You push the lid on the feelings box and run through your life plan as you head up the stairs. Law school and lawyer, then a relationship before judge and supreme court. That’s the plan, it’s always been the plan.

Once you’re in the kitchen, you pop open the fridge to see a single red rose. You lose a fighting battle with your face, smiling huge from ear to ear. You grab it and close the now empty fridge, bringing the rose to your nose to breathe in the sweet and powdery scent. The black and red envelope sits on the shiny marble countertop. You place the rose down and pop open the envelope. You pull out fifteen hundred dollars and a black business card. Your brows knit together as you inspect the card, flipping it over. A QR code for the JMK app, an activation code, and a note that says “Happy Birthday, sweetheart.”

You practically rip your phone from your back pocket and scan the QR code. You dance nervously on the balls of your feet as the app downloads. With shaky fingers you create a username and password, then type in the activation code. A bunch of permissions pop up, and while the baby lawyer inside of you screams that you need to read them, you’re too eager, so you hastily click accept on all of them. A profile with your newly appointed username splays across the screen. Right below your name it says “Beginner Submissive” and you roll your eyes. You upload the hottest selfie you can find of yourself to be your profile picture, smirking at what you imagine Joel’s reaction will be when he sees you in that tight fitting gold dress, a picture Jamie took of you on New Year’s Eve.

On the top right of your screen are 3 little lines, you open the menu and have two options. ‘Assigned Dominant’ and ‘Limits and Waivers’. You are eager to fill out whatever Joel wants on this app, but none of this will feel real to you until you see his name as your Dom. You giggle as you click the first menu. Holy shit, you think as the new window loads, this is going to happen, he’s going to do it.

Your heart freezes in your chest, and every ounce of excitement and happiness drains from you as you read ‘Assigned Dominant: Tommy Miller’.

When you get home, you open your JMK app again, looking at the assigned dominant screen in hopes you made a mistake. But there it is, clear as day, ‘Tommy Miller’. You lock your phone in frustration and toss it onto your unmade bed. Why would he do this? You’re sure that everything in the limits and waivers menu would have been a yes if Joel was your dom. But Tommy? Not that there’s anything physically wrong with Tommy. He’s definitely attractive, but he’s not Joel and you thought you made that perfectly clear.

After you shower you've decided you’ve cooled off enough to continue in the app. Tommy is still not Joel, but you want this for yourself, right? And it’s not about pleasure or attraction, it’s about the escape, and more importantly, it’s about having someone to push you and help you grow.

You click the ‘Limits and Waivers’ menu, a whole quiz comes up where you can rate your interest in different sexual and non sexual acts on a scale of one to five, and secondary checkmark if you’ve already done those things. You scroll through the list, this would be easy with Joel, all fives, all ‘highly interested’, or so you think. As you scroll through the list you get some real fetish level stuff - diapers, feet, scat play, being hung from hooks. You know enough not to kink shame anyone, but none of that interests you. As such, you rank them as a one, not at all interested.

You scroll back up to fill in all the stuff you’re more interested in.

Spanking, five.

Whips and Crops, five.

Paddles, five.

Nipple Clamps, five, fucking five hundred at this point.

Bondage, another five hundred. Vibrators, five.

Butt Plug, three - ya, that one surprised even yourself, but it’s Tommy, not Joel.

The little box to click if you’ve done those things remains unchecked. You aren’t a virgin, but the small handful of college boys you’ve entertained had the same two or three moves, all of which left you unsatisfied.

Odette bangs on your door, and you jump as your phone goes flying from your hand as she barges in. “Let’s get ready! Repeat twenty one, baby!”

You scramble off your bed to grab your phone before she does, one of your hands in a death grip on your towel, “Fuck, you scared the shit outta me.”

“Oh god, you were watching porn again weren’t you?” She laughs as your cheeks flush crimson. She wanders to your closet and opens the doors, “We gotta find you something real hot for tonight, you need to get laid.”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” you sing nonchalantly, wandering to your vanity to run a brush through your wet hair.

A few hours later and you’re all ready to go. Jamie and Laren came over to pre-drink and do their hair and make up. The four of you blasted nineties Shania Twain while drinking rosé and doing shots of cheap tequila. You pick a floor length black dress with a slit that goes almost to your hip and drips low between your breasts and leaves your back bare. You leave your hair down, curling it loosely before applying minimal makeup, flirty false lashes and a vibrant matte red lipstick. The packaging says that it's guaranteed not to smudge for up to twelve hours.

“We’ll test that tonight on drinks and men,” Laren says as she steals it from your hand and puts it on her full, pouty lips.

Jamie surprises you with a limo. Before getting in you swipe your JMK app open and save your half-finished preferences. Tonight is not about Joel or Tommy; tonight is about you, and you deserve to be celebrated.

The table Jamie managed to secure for your birthday is perfect. You’re just off the dance floor, but raised up so that you can see the entire club. The music is loud and the room is dark, dimly lit with light pinks and purples. As you settle into the booth a young icy haired blonde girl in small black shorts and a lacy bra wanders in. “Hey babes! I’m Jade, let’s get these bottles going! Here’s the menu.”

Her eyes fall to you as she hands the bottle service menu and you both freeze. It’s her, the girl from Joel’s desk. The thump of the music fades and all you can hear is her moans and cries, the squelching of her pussy as Joel finger fucked her hard and deep. Shit, fuck, why me. She smiles at you, “Oh hey! Good to see you again.”

A chorus of, ‘again?’ and ‘how do you know each other?’ comes from your friends, all of their wide eyes staring at you.

“We don’t really,” you rush. “Just a mutual acquaintance really.”

Luckily, she gets the hint and just nods along. “What are we getting to drink ladies? I’ve heard it’s on the house so pick something expensive!”

You pick a bottle of Clase Azul tequila, Jade saying she can make different cocktails with it so you’re not all just doing shots. After a few rounds you find yourself alone in the booth while your friends go to the bathroom. Jade sits on the black leather seat beside you.

“Look, I just want to say that I’m sorry for what you saw the other week. Joel sort of forbade me from seeking you out, but if you’re in my section at the club I work at then I’m not really breaking any rules.” She’s even more beautiful up close, no fucking wonder Joel wants to give you to Tommy. It’s just you, sweet girl, only you. But you see it now, why he’d pass you along. You can’t compete with a woman like her, and from the sounds of it Joel has more than one gorgeous, tall, slender blonde at his beck and call.

“No, it’s ok. I’m actually learning to be a sub soon.” You smile at her, trying to tamp down the jealousy that’s threatening to choke you.

“No way! Joel is amazing, I only see him like once a month now but you’re going to love it.” Suddenly your entire body feels like an open wound, and the lime and salt left on your hands from tequila shots burns through you. The back of your eyes burn, frustration and jealousy don’t mix well with Rosé and tequila. You blink a few times to stop the tears.

“He actually set me up with Tommy,” you croak, “Said I’m more his type.”

Just as she opens her perfect pink lips you hear the unmistakable opening to your all time favourite Shania Twain song, and as if your friends appeared from thin air the four of you yell, “Let’s go girls!”. The icy blonde pats the top of the table in your booth with one hand and holds her other hand out for yours. You climb up onto the table, your friends getting on the chairs.

Every insecurity dissipates from your body as you sing loudly with your friends, swaying your hips to the music. You surrender yourself to the genius that was Shania Twain and Mutt Lange. As you break into the chorus for a second time, a glint of silver across the club catches your eye. Standing on the other side of the dancefloor, leaning against the bar top, is Joel Miller.

His eyes are locked on yours; he’s wearing brown dress pants and a white short sleeved button up shirt, the top few buttons are left undone and it pulls at his biceps perfectly. He looks so sexy and casual, hair pushed back as he swirls the amber coloured whiskey around in its glass. He smiles devilishly, shaking his head jovially at you as you put on a show for him. As the song ends he crooks his pointer and middle fingers at you, silently calling you over. The simple motion of his fingers makes your pussy flutter, wetness slicking your thighs since you decided to forgo underwear tonight. Risky choice with the high slit of the skirt but suddenly it’s feeling like it’s the best decision you’ve ever made.

“I’ll be right back,” you whisper to your girlfriends as they help you off the table. They call for more shots and you refrain from all out sprinting to Joel.

“Quite the show you put on up there,” he says, grabbing your bicep like he did at the poker game and pulling you gently along with him.

“You didn’t seem to mind.” You twist your arm out of his grasp and stumble. You’re definitely well on your way to being drunk, but you don’t want him to know that.

He grabs for your waist to steady you. “Careful, you’re drunk.”

“I’m not. And even if I was, I’m celebrating, so I’m allowed to be drunk. Not allowed to be your sub, but allowed to be drunk.” His eyes darken and you know you’ve crossed some sort of undrawn line, but you’re at that reckless sass point in your tipsiness and you really don’t care. A saccharine sweet smile crosses your face as you plant your hands on your hips.

“You sure you wanna play this game, sweetheart?” He practically growls.

“I’m not your sweetheart, I’m Tommy’s,” it comes out poutier than you expect. You spin on the balls of your feet and head back to the dance floor. As always, you can feel his eyes on you as you walk away. When you approach the dance floor you see a handsome man about your age looking at you. A quick glance over your shoulder confirms Joel is watching, you grab the hand of the stranger and say, “Let’s dance.”

As all young, drunk boys do, he obliges. You spin and press your back in this body, grinding your ass into him and keeping your eyes locked on Joel. How did he find you here? Why would he be out at this particular club, unless of course he’s keeping an eye on the icy blonde woman. She confirmed they only see each other once a month though, so why? Is he following you somehow?

The boy's hands move to your hips, traveling up your abdomen. You wink at Joel, pulling your hair to the side and tilting your head so the boy behind you has access to the same spot on your neck that he had in his office. Just as his lips start to lower Joel snaps. Got him, you think. He takes a few long strides onto the dance floor, pulling you away like you’re some sort of toy, like he’s a caveman coming to take what’s his. You let him pull you, yelling an apology to the boy on the dance floor.

Even though you’re happy to go with him, you can’t let him know that. “Joel, stop it. You can’t kick me out of here too.”

He takes you down a quiet, dark hallway, barely illuminated by the red glow of the EXIT sign. “I own half this place, baby. So I can.”

You twist your arm free from his grip, “You’re the bane of my existence, Joel Miller.”

“Why haven’t you filled out your app yet?”

You scoff, anger and annoyance starting to replace the happy feeling you had when he pulled you from the dance floor. “Are you stalking me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. Doms can see where their subs are at all times if they accept the location tracker on the app.”

Shit, all those menus that you just clicked ‘Accept All’ to at the beginning. Of course your dom would be able to find you, depending on the relationship they can control everything you do. “You’re not my dom!” You state.

Joel rolls his eyes. “I know. Tommy told me you hadn’t filled it all out yet and where you were. So, why haven’t you filled out the app?”

You lean back on the railing along the wall and slide your feet from your heels, placing them on the cool tile of the floor to soothe the ache in your arches. Your hands come back to grip the railing. “It’s none of your business.”

“Sweet girl, in this case it literally is my business. The JM stands for Joel Miller.”

This time you roll your eyes and then mumble, “Because I don’t want Tommy. I don’t think I’m going to fill it out anymore.”

Joel leans back against the railing across the small hall from you, pinching the bridge of his noise in annoyance, “Please. For me, can you just fill it out?”

“For you? You made it clear you don't want me. I’m filling it out for Tommy.”

He crosses his arms, biceps bulging even more against the tight fabric of his short sleeved button up, if he’s not careful he’s going to go full incredible hulk on that shirt. Not that you’d mind.

“That’s not what I’m sayin’ and that’s also where you’re wrong. You’re fillin’ that out for you. If you’re fillin’ it out for anyone else, then you’re doing this for the wrong reasons.”

You let out an unimpressed sounding huff, “I’m not.”

His lips press into a tight line as he considers his words carefully; Joel is old enough to know not to argue with a twenty-one year old who’s had tequila. “Ok, you’re not. So then why do you want to be a sub?”

He watches as your whole body seems to deflate, there’s a shift, almost like desperation in your body. Sadness lines your eyes as they meet his and your voice comes out small and uncertain. “Because I’m exhausted, Joel. I - I spend all day making decisions, and studying, and learning about civil rights law. I’m always having to come up with a plan A, and B, all the way to plan Z sometimes. And then,” your head falls back to the wall as you continue speaking to the ceiling with your eyes closed, “Then I do it all over again the next day. I can’t shut it off, my brain. It just keeps going and going. It's so loud, so constant, so fucking overwhelming and there’s no escape.”

You fall silent and he steps forward, slipping his large hand behind your neck and bringing your gaze to his. You continue, fighting against the boulder that’s forming in your throat, “I don’t think I’m good enough. Or strong enough…Smart enough. I want to see for once that I am, want to see what I can overcome. For once,” you sigh heavily. “For once I just want someone to tell me how well I’m doing.”

Joel’s eyes fall to your lips, his voice a hoarse whisper, “Fill out the app.”

You take a deep breath. You feel lighter after finally getting to confessing all of that to him. That was your plan for his office the other day, but something about him flusters you and you were completely knocked off the rails by that special unknown thing Joel has over you. You whisper, “I don’t want to do this with Tommy. Please, Joel.”

Joel’s forehead comes to rest on yours, you can see the golden flecks in his dark eyes at this proximity. He smells like mint, and that same ash and leather from his office the other day. You should ask him right now why he let you in his basement today, but he speaks before you can. “Can you please, just for once, show me that you can listen?”

“Kiss me,” you hum, trailing your hands up his strong arms.

He stiffens under your touch. “What?” he asks dumbfoundedly.

“Kiss me and I’ll go home right now and fill out the app,” you whisper, inching your lips closer to his.

“You’ll go home, fill out the app, and you will not touch yourself.” It’s not a question, it’s a deep command.

Now it’s your turn to be confused as you say, “What?”

He crowds his body closer to yours, pulling his face back slightly so he can take you all in. You’ve never seen this expression before, that flash of darkness from the first time you called him Mister Miller in your car has permanently etched itself into your mind, but it’s almost like he’s transitioned into full dominant Mister Miller now. “If you want to convince me to be your dom, it’s not going to be through just a kiss. So prove to me that you can listen, prove to me that you can be a good girl. ”

The wetness between your legs starts to coat your thighs at the sound of him asking you to be a good girl. You clench your thighs together as his forehead meets yours again.

He continues, his voice just as commanding, “If I give you this kiss, you’ll go home alone, you will not touch that dripping little cunt, and you will fill out the app.”

Your pussy is throbbing with need. You should have known better than to sass him so hard tonight. Someone as competent and experienced as Joel would know exactly how to punish his sub when they were acting up. You nod your head and hum in agreement to his demands.

“Ask me nicely.” He murmurs.

“P-please…kiss me, Joel.” Butterflies assault the inside of your stomach.

You didn’t think it was possible, but he manages to crowd you even more, your entire body pressed firmly against his. Every skin cell is screaming for his attention, every nerve firing off signals making you hyper aware of anywhere he’s touching you.

“Ask me again using that name I told you not to call me,” He knows he’s playing with fire, but at this exact moment he doesn’t care, he fucking loves the way his preferred dom name sounds coming off your lips.

“Kiss me, Mister Miller. Please?” It’s airy and desperate, your knees feel weak below you and it feels as if you can’t get a full breath in. The anticipation is killing you.

“Why?” he growls. Growing up you were always afraid of dark spaces, but if there were any monsters in this hallway they’d be running scared at the timbre of his voice right now.

Your back arches instinctively into him. You’re safe here, Joel Miller is your safety. “Because I need you, Mister Miller. Please. Just one kiss…then I’ll do anything. I promise. P-please. I need to feel you on me, Mister Miller.”

Joel bends slightly, his hands come to the back of your thighs and he lifts you, slamming you against the wall. You squeal, arms flinging around his neck as your ankles hook around his waist. He pins you to the wall with his hips and lets go of your thighs. Both of you are practically panting, his cock is hard as steel, pressing against his zipper and your bare pussy. Your skirt is covering you from exposing yourself to him but something about the glint in his eye when your bodies connect makes you think he might know you don’t have any panties on.

His hands peel your arms from around his neck and he pins them with one hand above your head like he did in his office. You whimper and grind your hips against him. His free hand wraps around your throat, holding it gently.

“No,” he growls and it takes every ounce of self control you have to stop your hips. “Say it again.”

He watches your mouth hungrily as you lick your lips and you fight back a moan. He can feel your pulse firing rapidly under his calloused fingertips. A needy whisper passes your lips, filling the miniscule space left between your bodies. “I need you, Mister Miller. Please kiss me.”

With that he slams his lips against yours. It’s a desperate and heady mess of tongue and teeth, your moans being swallowed by his greedy mouth. You tilt your head to allow him in more. His tongue devours every inch that it can reach. He nips at your bottom lip before diving back in. He takes whatever he wants from you and you let him. For the first time in years your brain is quiet. No anxiety about the quickly approaching LSAT, no thinking of whatever practice question you’re stuck on. That nagging fear of being rejected from all the law schools you’ve applied to goes silent. The worrying voice that tells you you’re not good enough disappears. Everything you are is replaced by whatever Joel gives.

You grind down onto him as you flick your tongue against his; he’s so rough yet so very soft. His tongue tastes like mint and whiskey. You can feel your orgasm building, it’s going to happen embarrassingly fast at this rate. You feel light headed from lack of oxygen and the slight push of his fingers into the side of your throat. More, more, more, you yell in your head.

Joel breaks the kiss and puts you down on your feet, holding you steady as you find your legs again. His lips are puffy and even though it’s not the time to be thinking of this, you realize there isn’t a single drop of red lipstick on his face, so it really will last twelve hours without smudging.

His thumb comes to your face, swiping along your bottom lip gently, “Put your number in my phone, sweet girl.”

He holds his brand new iPhone Max out to you and you tap your number in with shaky fingers. He sends a quick text when you hand his phone back and then he kneels in front of you, helping you back into your heels. As he stands his hand trails from your ankle, all the way up the slit of your skirt to settle on your clothed hip. “Go get your stuff and go home now, baby. There’ll be a car waiting for you out front.”

He pats your bum gently as you walk on shaky legs back to your VIP booth. You feel like a newborn giraffe as you make your way to your table.

“Where have you been?” Jamie proclaims, holding up a tequila shot for you.

You wave her off, “I think I’ve had too much. I’m gonna go but I want you girls to stay. Enjoy your night for me.”

It takes a few minutes but you convince your friends to stay and that you’ll be fine and already have a ride arranged. As you exit the club there’s a gorgeous blacked out town car parked in front. An older gentleman in a suit looks at you and nods, “Good Evening, Miss. Are you the young lady Joel Miller has asked me to escort home?”

You nod back, trying to act like this is an everyday occurrence and not the most outrageous thing that’s ever happened to you. As soon as you get home you change into your most unflattering set of pajamas, hoping that if you feel unsexy then it’ll stop that insistent throb between your thighs. Joel was so fucking close again, and this time there was no underwear in his way.

You slide open the app, Tommy Miller is still set as your dom, but you go through the preferences carefully and answer as honestly as possible as to what you want. You try to focus on the questions even though you can still feel Joel's throbbing cock pushing against you, and his warm hands around your wrists and throat. You can still taste him on your lips. You shake the ghost of him off of you and remind yourself again what you want from this, aside from mind-blowing orgasms.

You fill out every section and then hit save. Just as you are about to lock your phone and try to fall asleep your phone vibrates, the JMK app as a notification.

‘Your Assigned Dominant has changed to Joel Miller’

Your heart pounds behind your rib cage as you stare at the notification, your head feels fuzzy, possibly from the booze, or that kiss, but you can’t believe your eyes. You close out of the app and go back in, staring at where Joel’s name has replaced Tommy’s. Just as it all starts to feel real you get a text message from a number you don’t have saved. You click on the message app.

“No coming until I say so, I know you weren’t wearing any panties tonight. Messy little pussy ruined my pants. Go to sleep now, my sweet girl.”

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spencereidluver · 9 months

Text

I is for "I Knew It!"

november 07, 2008

summary: You and Spencer are caught going out by an all-too-familiar face, causing the two of you to have a talk about the logistics of your relationship.

word count: 1.1k

warnings: the fluffiest fluff anyone has ever seen

“Hey hey, put that wallet away,” Spencer says as you pull your wallet out from your purse. He never let you pay for dinner, even though you begged every time. You will admit, it is nice to always have your dinner paid for, however, you felt bad having him spend so much money on you.

“No. I want to pay tonight. You always pay,” you said and opened your wallet.

“My payment is having the world’s prettiest girlfriend. I’m paying for dinner, that's final.” He gently grabs your wrist from across the table, stopping you from making any further moves with the wallet. “Got it?”

“Fine, but I’m buying you a coffee in the morning.” You put the wallet back in your purse and give Spencer a smile. You playfully click your shoes with his underneath the table and take a final sip of your drink. Spencer places a credit card on the small black booklet on the edge of the table.

The waitress comes and collects the booklet, giving the two of you a quick smile and says she’ll be right back.

Spencer hands her a five dollar and two one dollar bills as a tip, and she makes her way to the register.

Spence lets go of your wrist and points his finger at you. “You,” he says, waves his finger at you as he says the words, “should come hang out at my apartment tonight.”

The waitress comes back and hands Spencer his card. “You guys have a good night,” she says as she backs up to let the two of you out of the booth then proceeding to clear off the table.

Spencer laces his hand with yours as the two of you weave through tables to exit the restaurant. “We can watch a movie or something,” he leans into your ear as you walk.

“I would love to, Spence,” you say and open the door to exit.

“Spencer Reid?” a familiar woman's voice says as the two of you walk out hand-in-hand. You feel his grip tighten.

The woman was blonde and very pregnant. She was with a thin goateed man.

“Oh, hey JJ,” Spencer says, stopping his step. “How’s it going?”

“Great, I can’t believe you have a girlfriend and didn’t tell me!” JJ looks at you, her mouth immediately becoming agape. “Y/N?”

Yeah, no one knew you and Spencer were seeing each other.

“Hey, JJ…” You say, happy to see her, but in a little bit of an awkward situation.

“How long? How long has this been going on?” She says, looking over at her boyfriend, Will excitedly.

“Um about a month,” you begin to say before being interrupted by Mr. Exact.

“35 days,” Spencer says matter-of-factly.

“That’s crazy! Oh my god I can’t believe this. Does anyone else know?” JJ would probably be jumping for joy right now if she wasn’t 9 months pregnant. Will just looked at her lovingly.

“No, we haven’t told anyone yet, we wanted to wait until our relationship was solid.” Spencer said, letting go of your hand and wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Seems pretty solid to me,” you say under your breath and lean into Spencer.

“You have to tell the team! They’d be so excited,” JJ exclaims.

“Yeah, we’re going to, we’re just not sure when.” Spencer says.

“It better be before I come back from maternity leave. If you guys aren’t BAU official by the Christmas party you will be sorry.” JJ playfully threatens before being dragged to the door by Will who waves goodbye.

You and Spencer begin walking to his car. “You know, That felt good. To finally tell someone,” you said and lean further into Spencer as your steps match up.

“Yeah, it did,” Spencer says, “What movie do you want to watch?” “The Red Circle is always good.”

“Yeah, but I think I want to watch more of an immature movie. I need a break.”

“How about WALL-E?”

“WALL-E sounds awesome.”

Spencer let go of your waist when you reached his car. He opened the passenger door for you, helping you in by your hand, then hurried around to get in the car himself.

_____

“I think we should tell the team,” Spencer says. You were sat between his legs on his couch leaned against his shoulder. One of his arms was wrapped around you, the other hand was playing with your hair. He halted his movements once the words came out of his mouth. It was almost as if he didn’t mean to say it outloud.

“What?” You ask, turning to look at him. The lighting from the t.v. hit his face, bringing attention to the rosy blush bleeding through his cheeks.

“I um… I want to tell the team we’re together,” he repeats. Your mouth falls open, unsure of what to say. “I know it’s early, but I just, I don’t want to have to hide you from them. You’re so special to me.”

“Spencer…”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to yet, I know it could put a lot of pressure on a new relationship, but I…”

You need to shut him up. You lean in and plant a kiss on his lips, letting your breath linger on his mouth. “No, if you’re ready to tell everyone, I’ll be there every step of the way.” His eyes light up. He looks so happy.

“I’m so lucky to have you.” He leans his head into your shoulder and gently pecks a kiss on your collarbone. You tuck a loose strand of hair behind his ear. He looks up at you and smiles, resting his chin against your chest.

You loved when he let you baby him like this. It took him a while to be comfortable enough to let his guard down like this around you, but once he was able to, he basically never stopped. He loved being able to have someone to care for him as it was something he never experienced, even as a child.

WALL-E is playing in the background, the scene where he is showing EVE around his house illuminating the room. Spencer looks up at you, eyes glowing. He nuzzles into your chest, careful not to bump your breasts. He was so respectful; the sweetest boy.

“What, Spencer?” you ask, keeping your voice smooth and calm. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but you had to make sure not to seem annoyed as he was sensitive.

“You’re so pretty,” he says, then buries his head in the crook of your neck.

That’s not what he wants to say, but you comb your fingers through his hair and say, “thank you.” You feel him mumble something into your chest. “What, baby?” you ask him.

“Y/n,” he says, you hum in response, “I think I’m in love with you.”

You can’t help but smile. “I think I’m in love with you, too, Spence,” you say, grabbing his chin and leading his face up to kiss him.

_____

next chapter: J is for "Just So You Know"

other parts: Spencer Reid A-Z Masterlist

view the masterlist in a calendar version!

_____

a/n: hiii :3 i'm currently on break from school and have the next two days off from work, i'm going to try to grind so hard and try my best to get the christmas part out on the 25th, but if that doesn't happen please don't get upset at me... it will 100% be out in december, as the new years part is for sure being posted on the 31st. have an awesome night guys !!

_____

Have Recommendations? visit my recommendations page to submit your suggestion, no matter how big or small!

_____

taglist: @universallyblizzardlove @ms-ks-world @justlivinginadaydream @dij-ology @lotus-ignis @sammy-4103 @ktssstuff

@ada--44 @moongirl27 @monfleurr @shycreationdreamland @cultish-corner @ariianelle @iiheartbowie

@spencerreidismybitch @traderjoesmints @ivyflowers13 @hades-disappointment-child @aceofspades190 @taygrls @hookergutss

@random-3455 @nmw-am @bookworm124 @hizzielover @jem08 @cherrybowbabby @theofficialfunk

@hookergutss @skylions-den @smalltownbeautyqueen @spencereidapologist @lunajay33 @novaeatsworld @pleasantwitchgarden

@mellowdreamerbanana @readbydayana

#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x bau!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencereidluver #spencer reid a-z

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talaok · 8 months

Note

i loved the hickey fic🥵

can i request a role reversal fic?

reader marks up joel and is unashamed about it

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

a/n: thank you love, hope you'll like this although its been so long you probably forgot about this. and if you're interested, this is the fic they were referring to

It was just you and Ellie in the kitchen this morning. You were laughing about another funny dream she had last night, this one involving Joel trying to tame a gigantic sheep so he could ride it or something, she didn't quite remember the purpose, not that it mattered.

But as you both quite literally felt on the verge of tears from the image the dream was painting in your minds, the main character of said dream, appeared in the doorway, throwing you both a dirty look as if watching two of the three people he loved the most in this entire world didn't fill his old heart with pure joy.

"It's too early to be this chipper" he grumbled, walking to you to leave a quick kiss on your cheek as he reached for the coffee pot behind you.

A gasp sounded from the other sound of the counter

"oh my god what happened to your neck?!"

And it was then, that Joel Miller, the unafraid, stone-cold killer of a man that he was, turned red from hairline to neck.

"O-Oh fuck I-" His eyes widened, his hand going to cover your work on his neck, but it was all useless, because the second Ellie's eyes landed on the smirk plastered on your face, she knew.

"oh my god ew" she groaned, rolling her eyes, her focus going back to the eggs on her plate.

"You remember Janine, that woman I told you about?" you explained, talking to her

She laughed at that, remembering your conversation about that woman who's always flirting with Joel.

"you filled Joel's neck with hickeys because of her?"

Joel wasn't even red anymore, he was turning purple, his eyes were wider than a deer's caught in the headlights, and you suspected he hadn't taken a breath since he first entered the kitchen.

"this..." you smiled, trailing your fingers on Joel's neck "is my own little way of telling her to keep her hands off my man"

Joel choked, he literally choked on his own saliva and just then, just when he was about to have a heart attack, Tommy entered the house, his eyes immediately going to the image before him with more than a little amusement.

"What have I walked into?" he grinned, walking over to the kitchen "And why does my brother look a breath away from exploding?" he laughed, his hands gesturing to Joel.

"y/n here was giving me way too much information that I certainly didn't want to know" Ellie explained, looking at you pointedly for the last part of her sentence, making you chuckle.

"About what?" Tommy asked

"About the work of art I left on your brother's neck"

"wha-Ohhh" he breathed, smiling like a smug bastard as he understood what you were talking about "Janine tried something again I presume?"

"You presume right" you smiled, giving Joel a little kiss on the cheek and stifling a smile at how terrified he seemed "for the last time"

"You ok baby?" you asked, stroking his cheek

His gaze was on Ellie, his mouth parted in shock.

"You still with us man?" she asked, giggling softly, making him shake his head to try and get his mind to start working again.

And then, then the words came tumbling off his tongue, filled with what sounded like pure panic

"S-since when do you know what a hickey is!?"

Everyone in the room except him laughed, but when the shock on his features persisted, and Ellie regained her composure, she answered.

"I'm not a kid Joel, I know what sex is"

Another pang to his poor heart,

he felt all the organs inside him twist into a knot

what the fuck was happening?

Did she just say-

"sex!?" he cried, looking a second away from having a mental breakdown "I-I never said sex- H-how do you even know- I- You- You're too young- I-I"

"ok ok ok" you tried your best not to chuckle, intervening before his heart really decided to stop "How 'bout we go outside for a moment huh? Take a few deep breaths? How about that?" you murmured, soothingly drawing circles on his back

He looked at you then, looking every bit as disheveled as he sounded

"y-yeah" he swallowed thickly, "I-I think that's a good idea"

He looked back at Ellie for a moment to make sure this wasn't a nightmare and he didn't just make that up, before you both left the room.

And as if on cue, the second you did, Tommy and Ellie started laughing like maniacs.

"I don't think I've ever seen him so scared" Ellie laughed, as Tommy sat next to her, patting her back

"Neither have I" he chuckled, none of them saying anything before an idea came to his mind.

a hell of a funny one

"ten bucks if you tell him you know what porn is"

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makethemmilky · 29 days

Text

It was the end of May, and the first truly good beach weekend of the year. That was perfect timing for you, because at 8.5 months pregnant it was probably going to be your and only chance to hit the beach before your little bundle of joy arrived. Your wonderful husband had loaded up the car, and then superstar that he was, had dropped you off for some solo beach time while he took the rest of your little ones for a playdate with their cousins. This had become a little tradition of yours, and he was more than happy to give you the little break you deserved.

Once upon a time you had been modest about showing off your transformed body too much in public, but those days were long past. For this excursion you had deliberately crammed yourself into a bikini at the very frontier of respectability, your tiny bottoms stretched scandalously tight over an ass and hips that had gained way too many inches to be covered properly anymore, and the undersized top doing nothing to stop the wobbling of your milk-filled boobs as you strolled along the sand. But more than anything, it was your bump that was most prominently displayed, and you felt all eyes being drawn to it as you slowly waddled up and down the beach looking for the right spot to put down your chair and towel. As a mom of four already you had learned the hard way to avoid being pregnant during the hottest months of the year, but still, all of these shocked/envious/lustful gazes definitely made you fantasize about getting this kind of attention all summer long.

For a while you're content to just sit back in your comfy chair and sip your iced tea while you soak in the sun's gentle warmth against your heavy body. At this point, when you're at your biggest, you are now constantly aware of the size and weight you've become, and it feels delightful to just experience the caress of sun and sea breeze against all of your curves. Through your sunglasses you stare at the beautiful ocean, the perfect blue of the sky, and of course, do a bit of people watching as well. There are plenty of handsome men here, and more than a few women, and the sight of them all is a reminder that you didn't need of how your preggo hormones make you most horny in your final trimester. You make a mental note to mention this to hubby as servicing those needs later tonight.

And then, you see her.

She was young, definitely only in the first couple years of university. You hadn't initially paid attention to her because she'd been lying on her back getting a tan, one more blonde in a pack of college girls taking a post-finals trip to celebrate. But when a group of them, including her, got up to wade into the ocean, your eyes immediately spotted it. Her midsection had a bulge to it, for now still only slightly out of place on her slender frame, but unmistakable to you. You could tell by the ever-so-slight waddle and the way she was unconsciously adjusting her bikini bottom as she moved. Four months along, four and a half at the most, you're certain of it.

For the next 20 minutes you watch as the group of girls goof around in the ocean, their laughter and shouts audible even from your beach chair. But she's not enjoying herself as much, and you can spot the forced nature of her smile. You didn't know the full story and you never will, but you know enough. As you stare at her through your sunglasses, you remember your first pregnancy and how awkward you'd felt before you'd understood the joys and fulfillment in growing life inside of you.

Well, today's her lucky day, you think. Your nipples are poking through the flimsy bikini material at just the thought.

You wait until the girls are done swimming, and your new friend is making her way towards one of the beach showers to wash off sand. With a heave, you pull your heavy frame out of your chair and follow up in hot, but slow, pursuit. At the shower station her back is to you, giving you the element of surprise.

"Oh my! It''s almost too hot out here for me today!" you say. The girl wheels, eyes widening at she takes in how much of you there is. You smile confidently; your instincts were right.

"But it's worth it to be in the water, you know? Being out there really takes the weight off my back," you continue.

"Um, yeah," the girl says, awkwardly. You pay her no mind.

"Right now you're still pretty small so you probably don't need to worry about that. But by the end of the summer…you definitely will want to be floating out there a lot."

Her eyes drop to her slight bump, her face a look of confusion and disappointment. She' upset that you were able to notice. But you also notice that her hands instinctively drop to touch the bump; another good sign.

"Is this your first one?" you asked. She nods.

"Congratulations! You're positively glowing, my dear."

"Thanks, I guess," she replied.

"I mean it!" you continue, stepping closer, your huge dome only inches from her slight bump. "Pregnancy really suits you. Your husband must be thrilled."

"Uh, boyfriend, actually. And it was kind of unplanned, you know?"

"Oh sweetie! Don't you worry about that. I remember my first time, I was barely older than you are now. I promise you'll be just fine! Being a mom is the best, I promise you."

"Really?"

"Absolutely! Why do you think I'm almost done with my fifth here?" you say, rubbing your midsection for emphasis.

"Wow, five kids!" she says, her expression starting to soften a bit. "I can't imagine going through this five times."

"That's funny, I said the same thing! And now look at me. Trust me, once you get a bit bigger, you'll start to understand."

"Understand what?"

"How good it feels to be pregnant. To be able to grow a life inside you. It makes me feel so powerful. Like a fertility goddess."

The girl is giving you an odd look, so you decide to escalate a bit.

"Can you feel any kicking yet?" you ask. The girl shakes her head. "Well, come here then" you say, and grab her hand. Before she can respond, it's pressed firmly against the side of your massive belly. Her eyes light up in exhilaration.

"Is that what it really feels like?"

"Yes! But somehow it feels even better when it's inside you. I can't quite explain it, but you'll understand soon enough."

"Thanks,"the girl says. "Actually I'm glad to hear that. This has all been kind of stressful. My friends have been trying to cheer me up, but they don't really understand." You notice that her hand still hasn't left your bump.

"Of course they don't, they're e still girls, and you're a woman now. You've moved onto a bigger and better stage of your life."

"i've actually been feeling that recently. Like they don't know what I'm going through, or how important it is."

"Like what? Once you've been pregnant with a whole basketball team like I have, you've seen and done it all."

"I'm sure it's nothing interesting for you. Just stuff like gaining weight, eating a lot, feeling my body change, you know."

"Of course I know! But just remember, all of this is happening for a very good reason. You're growing a life inside of you! That's a beautiful thing, and it makes you beautiful!"

"I don't feel beautiful," she replies, a sad look on her face.

"Nonsense! You're fucking gorgeous," you smile. "I meant what I said before, you're glowing and pregnancy really does suit you. I bet your boyfriend is all over you!"

The girl blushes and smiles awkwardly. "Actually, kind of! He says he loves how big my boobs are getting. But…I'm um, kind of too much for him. Like I wear him out and he falls asleep and I still want more. My gosh! I can't t believe I said that!"

"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me! My husband is wonderful, but at this point he knows he can't keep up with me when I'm this big. There's s no shame in getting some extra help, mechanical or otherwise."

The girl's eyes suddenly get very wide." "What do you mean by 'otherwise'" she asks, quietly.

You take one last step closer, and now your bumps are at last touching. For a long moment you say nothing, and then you reach out to take the younger girl's arm. With a gentle tug, you pull her towards an empty changing room.

"Here, let me show you."

#pregnancy #pregnant #pregblr #preggo kink #big pregnant belly #sexy preggo #preg k!nk #sexy pregnant

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gurugirl · 3 months

Text

Must be nice | bfd!harry

Summary: You and Harry feel like everything's coming together perfectly. You're both getting all the things you wanted. But when you run into Fae while shopping and she notices something new about you, it bursts your little happy bubble.

Partly based on this request!

Word Count: 3.4k

Warning: 18+ only, smut, age gap, angst, uncomfortable confrontation, pregnancy stuff 👀

Best Friend's Dad!Harry masterlist | Main Masterlist

. .

You had a feeling before it was confirmed. Harry had already started getting the small bedroom closest to the master bedroom ready; painted, new crib, little toys, a changing table. You joked with him about how it was probably bad luck to begin before you’d even taken the test but he reminded you of how your intuition told you he’d gotten you knocked up.

“Besides, if not now, then soon.”

He might have been more excited about it than you were. Which surprised you honestly. You weren’t even married yet, he was freshly divorced, and his daughter was hardly speaking to him.

Sometimes you wondered if he was throwing himself at this new life, new family, to suffocate the thoughts he had about what he’d done. You hated to think that he was feeling guilt and that the only way he could get his head above water was to pretend everything was okay.

But then again, you were doing the same thing. It hurt too much to get into your head about everything. About how you’d ruined your relationship with your best friend and in turn, ruined her relationship with her father. So, there was guilt there, you just preferred to pretend things were perfectly fine.

And things were fine. Really. You got what you wanted in the end. Whether or not you deserved it was another story altogether.

So when you did finally take that test you’d been waiting for and it had two pink lines across the readout, even though you already knew it, you were still excited. Over the moon.

Harry was out of his mind. He took off two days of work to hang out with you and “celebrate” as he called it. Which just entailed him waiting on you hand and foot and making you realize that he was the best thing that had ever happened to you. It was hard to regret everything that had gone down when Harry treated you like a Queen.

When you told your mom, Harry was with you. He insisted on being there. He was trying not to tell her before you did so you had to just spit it out and say it. Harry pulled your mom into his arms and kissed her on the top of her head the moment you got the words out, “I’m pregnant!”

Part of you thought there would be more shame around the whole thing but Harry seemed like a child full of joy. It made you ecstatic to be carrying his baby. He was thrilled and so you would be too. It was easy to feel like things were idyllic and sweet when Harry was so thrilled. It kind of rubbed off on you.

Four months after settling in the new house and two months after finding out you’d been knocked up you and Harry had a few people over for a small party. He’d begun on the garden and it was looking just darling so he wanted to have people over to show off the house a bit.

Harry was set up at the grill with a beer in hand while you were talking to the wife of one of his coworkers and plating sliced veggies and dip in the kitchen. Everyone but you had an alcoholic drink. You didn’t know if that would be obvious or not but Harry didn’t care if anyone else knew. You figured it was just a matter of time before he couldn’t keep his mouth shut anyway.

Everyone invited was someone Harry knew from work. You didn’t really have many friends and the ones you did, you weren’t so sure about having over. Paloma was nosey and disingenuous you felt, and she was still friends with Fae so you knew she’d be reporting back everything. Fae had been your closest friend before everything and ever since losing your job at the restaurant you lost touch with the ones you were closest with. That left you with very few people you felt you could trust other than your mother.

“I am in love with this kitchen,” Shelcin gushed before sipping her wine.

“It’s really nice. We love it here.”

The woman leaned back and peeked into the living room before stepping in closer to you, “Can I just… I want to say something and I hope it doesn’t come off as offensive but I can’t help but wonder how you two moved along this quickly. I mean I know he’s divorced now and you were with him during all that,” she paused and settled her hand on the granite counter, “But… you guys must have really gotten serious quickly. For him to just move on like that.”

You tried not to let the shock show on your face. You knew people knew, mostly, but to be asked about it so directly? You hadn’t been prepared.

Clearing your throat you looked Shelcin directly in the eyes, “Well, we’ve been together, technically, for over a year at this point. And it wasn’t an overnight thing. We know what we did was not good but we just… we fell in love. Wanted to be together.”

“Over a year. I didn’t realize it had been that long. I knew something about Harry getting a divorce and that he met you before the divorce was final. So you two…” she raised her glass along with her eyebrows, “Again… not trying to offend. I’m just curious. You don’t have to answer, but he left his wife for you? You came before any talk of divorce?”

Looking over your shoulder out the window to see Harry looking pleased as he spoke to two of the guys outside you looked back at the woman, “Yes. I’m the reason they got divorced.”

Shelcin leaned her hip into the counter and grinned, “I like you. I never met his ex, so don’t worry. I’m not taking sides. But I can see how much he loves you. That dinner we all went to last month? He couldn’t stop staring at you. It’s really sweet actually. I wish Ken looked at me like that.”

You felt like you could let your guard down suddenly. Her smile and reassurance felt nice. You’d have to get used to answering questions about it you supposed and she hadn’t been catty about it, at least.

“Yeah, he’s great. I feel lucky that he loves me so much because I love him like crazy.”

“I noticed you’re not drinking. Any reason in particular?”

You laughed and shook your head, “You are kind of nosy, aren’t you?”

The laugh that belted from her chest had you laughing harder. It felt good to talk about it and laugh. To not take it so seriously.

Shelcin nodded, “I am nosy. Pardon. It’s the Colombiana in me. If I start asking things that make you uncomfortable you can just ignore me or tell me to shut up. So… is that a question you want to answer?”

Biting your lip you lifted the plate of sliced veggies and motioned your head at her to follow you as you turned to step outside into the backyard. The two other women who were there with their husbands were sitting at the patio set chatting as you sat the plate down.

Turning back toward Shelcin you placed your hand on your hip and glanced at Harry before looking at her, “There is a reason. And right now only Harry and my mother know so don’t say anything.”

Her eyes widened as she leaned in and whispered in your ear, “You’re pregnant?”

You nodded as she moved away and she raised her glass up with a nod at you before taking another sip.

“Burgers are just about done, babe! Sit down! I’ll take care of the rest,” Harry pointed at you.

You had been nervous to have people over but it turned out you had a spectacular time. Shelcin kept you laughing and her prying questions made you uncomfortable but by the end of it all, you realized you didn’t need to be uncomfortable. What was done was done. Life is messy, as she kept saying. Not everyone needed to know everything but you felt like you could finally let go of some of your regrets. It felt freeing to talk about it with someone else.

Harry was with you at every appointment and as your tummy grew little by little he seemed to only get more attached to you and the baby. He called you at lunch every day while he was at work to see how you were feeling, he doted on you, made sure you were taking your vitamins and getting plenty of treats.

And he was kind of supercharged sexually as well. It was like putting a baby in you turned him into some kind of sex-obsessed fiend.

You loved that he found you so sexy. But there were days when you couldn’t imagine him sticking his penis inside of you. He never made you feel guilty about it but you could tell he was pent up because any time you gave him any inkling of feeling needy he was all over you. Some weeks you wanted it all the time, others not so much. Your hormones determined how you felt but Harry was just happy to take what you’d give him.

And this week you were horny. You’d called him the day before on his lunch break and he came home right away to take care of you. And right then, as he was working in the garden with his shirt off and his muscles gleaming from sweat, his lats looking extra strong as he bent at the waist to dig the trowel into the dirt you stepped outside with him and admired his fit body, the tattoos, his big hands…

He turned to look at you over his shoulder and smiled, “Hey baby. What’s up?”

Biting your lip you took another step closer and danced your fingers over his sweaty shoulder blades, “Just watching. You’re working so hard. Why don’t you come in for a bit? Take a break.”

Harry dropped the trowel and stood up, turned to face you, and looked you up and down, “All right. Whatever you want. Come on, baby,” he took your hand and led you to the door. You could see it on his face that he knew what you wanted.

When he tried to take a quick shower you nearly got on your knees and begged him to just take you to bed right then and there.

You ran your hands up to his shoulders and leaned in to kiss his pecks, “Don’t. I want you now.”

Harry laughed, “Baby, I’m all sweaty and stinky.”

You inhaled and (god you were insane or something) moaned, “You smell so good, Harry. I don’t know what it is but I don’t think I’ve ever been more turned on in my entire life. I want to devour you right now.”

Harry had barely gotten you into bed, your panties pulled down when you pushed him to his back and tore his shorts and underwear off his legs. You wanted him in your mouth. You were going to cry if you didn’t get to taste him. The pungent, masculine scent of him had your mouth watering. Which was funny because you were finding so many scents you once loved, off-putting lately. So to be as turned on as you were by Harry’s sweat surprised you. But there was no time to think about it.

You gave him a good glob of your saliva and smoothed it over him as he tucked his hands behind his head and watched you with a smirk. But you wiped that smirk right off his face when you took him down your throat and began gagging around him. His eyes widened and he gurgled a moan as he pushed himself up just a bit to watch you.

His hands were on your face and at the back of your head as bobbed over him and drooled down his shaft. You’d never sucked him off like that before but there was something so enticing about him right then.

“Holy fuck, Y/n… shit…”

You gasped as you pulled off, your hand wrapped around his base, and grinned, “This big cock, Harry…” you dipped down and licked over his tip with your eyes on his, “You use it so well. Makes me feel so good. Got me pregnant with it…” you wrapped your lips over his crown and lowered again, feeling his length push into the back of your throat before you lifted off again, “Deserves all my devotion. Wanna suck it, and feel it, and have all over me, inside of me...”

You were probably delirious. Your hormones had been raging and you were having the nastiest thoughts all day about Harry. He was easy to fantasize about. Gorgeous and tall, kind and gentle… and then there were times when he fucked you into oblivion and you imagined all the filthy things you two had done…

Harry pulled you off of him when you started to go to town again, his words were breathy, “What’s gotten into you, baby? Act like you’ve never seen my dick before.”

You laughed and pulled your cotton, stretchy dress over your head and then your bra with it, tits bouncing out and Harry’s eyes flitting between your breasts and your face, “I’m so horny, Harry. It’s just my hormones,” you grinned as you straddled his lap and smoothed your palms over his chest, “And you are so fucking sexy and you were just out there in the garden, sweating with this big cock between your legs hidden under your shorts…” you gripped his shaft and pointed the tip right at your aching entrance (yes, you were already aching) before putting your weight over it to slide yourself down his length until you were both moaning together.

Sex while pregnant wasn’t that different at first, but as the months drew on and your tummy got bigger, things had to be modified. You were on top a lot and doggystyle was a go-to when you were too tired to ride him. But one of the biggest differences was how fast you’d come.

Shifting your hips back and forth you reveled in the feel of Harry’s whole cock lodged inside of you. He was so stiff and heavy, so thick… you would never get tired of how good he felt. But having him while you were pregnant and extra sensitive and emotional was kind of addicting.

His hands traced over your tummy and up to your tits before he reached down and planted his big palms on your ass, helping you slide forward and back. He began to thrust up, hitting that deep spot that always made you gasp, “Fuck, Harry!”

Your nerve endings were sizzling with need as you rocked over him harder and he drove into you from his spot below as gently as he could manage. He wanted to pound into you until you were crying, watch your pussy spread open for him as you squeezed your eyes closed but he had to take it easy. You were carrying his baby after all.

But that drove him wild. Seeing your belly swollen and your tits grow heavy was the hottest thing he’d seen. And he’d done that to you. Made his official claim on you. Anyone who saw you together recently knew what was up. You were his girl. He was the one who got to have you.

You felt the heat of your orgasm spread and spread as your pussy slid over him and Harry’s tip nudged through your walls and squished into your deepest spot. “Fuck, you coming, baby? Does that feel good?” He panted his words as he watched you drop your head back and you whined a wet moan into the room. Harry finished you off with his knees bent and his feet planted flat on the mattress as he rutted up into you, plunging in to let you feel all of him as you pulsed around his cock.

Harry watched your pretty tits bounce as he fucked into you and then felt his release course through his balls, up into his length, and pump inside of you in heavy, hot throbs.

When oxygen had returned to your lungs you looked down at his face. His half-lidded eyes, heaving chest, and parted lips with borders edged upward in a satisfied grin – handsome and all yours.

. . .

“I think this one is better. I like the strawberry more. Or should we just get both?” Harry asked as he held up the jar of preserves. You were both standing in an aisle at Target doing a little shopping.

You shrugged, “Whichever one is fine. We don’t need both, though. I like raspberry and strawberry. Get the strawberry if you like that one better.”

Harry pursed his lips and looked down at both jars, “Okay. Strawberry it is.”

“Dad? Y/n?”

You and Harry turned toward the familiar voice. You almost couldn’t believe you were looking directly at Fae at that moment. But she wasn’t looking at your face. She was staring at your obviously pregnant tummy with her mouth dropped open and wide eyes as she approached you both.

“Hi, Fae. How are you doing, honey,” Harry glanced at you and then looked at his daughter. It was clear that she’d made a shocking discovery based on the look on her face.

“Is this for real?” Finally, Fae’s eyes landed on yours before she looked at her dad.

“That she’s pregnant?” Harry replied. You were too stunned to speak as you grasped onto Harry’s arm and watched your ex-best friend scrutinize the scene.

“I- I can’t believe you’re pregnant. This is…” Fae turned to look behind herself and then back at you and then Harry, “How far along?”

Harry looked down at you and then at his daughter, “About five months.”

“And when were you going to tell me?”

You blinked your eyes and placed one of your hands on your tummy.

“Well, I guess we just haven’t really told all that many people yet,” Harry spoke softly.

“All that many people… Okay. So your daughter doesn’t get like first notice. Got it. Makes sense.” She paused as she shook her head and then tilted her head, eyes on you, “Are you gonna say anything at all?”

Swallowing the bile down your throat you squeezed Harry’s arm, “Um, it’s nice to see you, Fae.”

“It’s nice to see me? Is it really, Y/n? Because I’m not getting that vibe from either of you. It’s almost like you hoped I’d never know about this.”

“No. I- actually I’m happy to see you. I’ve missed you. It was just a surprise to see you.”

“Same. Quite surprised to see you both and to see you pregnant,” Fae looked at her dad, “Does mom know?”

Harry shook his head, “No. Like I said, not many know yet.”

She nodded, “Heard about the new house too. You’re both just living that sweet life, not a care in the world, yeah? Must be nice.”

“Hey, that’s not fair. I know you’re upset about everything and there’s a lot to get through here but we are happy together. I’m sorry–“

Fae put her hand up, “I know you’re sorry, Dad. I don’t need to hear the spiel again. You two are happy and in love, and now you’re having a baby. How wonderful. Congrats,” she turned around and began to walk away.

“Fae. Come on! Don’t just leave like this,” Harry called after her but she didn’t stop until she was out of sight of both of you.

And just like that, the little happy, peaceful bubble you and Harry had crafted was burst. The reality wasn’t as sweet as you’d been pretending it was. Fae was hurt and you’d done that to her. The anger she had toward you was warranted. You still hoped that maybe one day she’d forgive you but the reminder of what you’d done to get where you were in that moment was heavy over you.

You couldn’t avoid reality forever.

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cherienymphe · 10 months

Text

Teenage Dirtbag II (JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, mentions of blood, public sex, jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ series masterlist

summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.

Your rescue just comes with a price.

“Why was JJ even trying to give you some drink, anyway?”

You resisted the urge to sigh, anticipating such a question the moment the topic had swung back around to the party from last week. You kept your gaze on your lip gloss, dipping it once then twice before looking up into the mirror. You could hear Rafe pause in his movements, no doubt waiting for an answer, and this time you finally did heave a breath.

“I don’t know, Rafe. I told you this,” you said to him, turning to look at him as he sat on the edge of his bed.

You watched him study you, that blue gaze of his oh so unnerving, and you weren’t the least bit relieved when he simply hummed.

“I know,” he finally replied, tongue pressing to the inside of his cheek. “…but I have a right to wonder. Especially since you’ve never spoken to him a day in your life before that night.”

Rolling your eyes, you turned to swipe the sticky product over your lips, recalling that it was one of Rafe’s favorite shades. The conversation had the potential to slip into dangerous territory, derailing your entire night, and you mulled over your next words carefully.

“He was probably just trying to get a rise out of you,” you honestly murmured, looking at your boyfriend. “…and it worked.”

You merely shrugged at him as he scoffed.

“I mean, he’s way more familiar with you than me. Probably just wanted to piss you off.”

You turned the light off in his bathroom, making your way towards your shoes as you desperately hoped this conversation would come to an end soon. The topic of other men was one that rarely ended nonviolently, and you didn’t know how Rafe got it into his head that the antics of JJ Maybank had anything to do with you when everyone on this entire island knew how much they hated each other. A year ago, you barely even knew the other blonde’s name.

“Well, it worked,” Rafe confessed, coming over to help you put on your other shoe. “You’re too good to even be talking to trash like that, so yeah. It pissed me off.”

At the look on your face, Rafe continued, shaking his head.

“I know what you’re thinking, and you really don’t need to go around feeling sorry for guys like that. He’s not the down on his luck kid you think he is,” he advised, pulling you to your feet. “Him and all of Sarah’s little buddies are nothing but trouble.”

Rafe took his time telling you this, making sure you heard every word, and you only felt compelled to nod as he placed a brief kiss on your lips. Rafe swiped up your purse for you as he pulled you out of the room. You felt safer with Rafe in his house than you did in your own, but Ward’s careful eye on his son had never been foolproof. There’d been plenty of times Rafe gave you a sprained wrist or bruised jaw in his very own bedroom.

It's just that in his desire to be more careful within the Cameron household, he sometimes decided that it wasn’t even worth it.

“Where are you two off to?” Sarah wondered as you came face to face with her in the living room.

You hadn’t even known she was home, and when it became clear that Rafe wasn’t going to answer her, you did.

“To a movie.”

The smile you sent her was small, and she reluctantly returned it before settling her gaze on her brother. You didn’t miss the way her eyes narrowed, lips pursing a tad. They never got along, but considering recent events, you knew what this particular disagreement was about to be about.

“JJ’s nose is still pretty messed up, you know.”

At that, Rafe did finally acknowledge her, stopping to face her with a challenging look you knew all too well. He tilted his head to the side, one brow raised.

“That sounds like something that isn’t my problem,” he shrugged, and you softly told him that you needed to go in an attempt to avoid whatever this was, but he ignored you.

“God, you’re such an asshole, you know that? JJ just offered your girlfriend a drink and so you broke his nose? Yeah, ‘cause that makes sense,” Sarah murmured, shaking her head as she looked back down at her phone.

You squeezed Rafe’s arm, but he merely sneered at his sister.

“JJ’s a little shit who likes to look for trouble wherever he goes. Not my fault he found it,” Rafe spat, pulling you along before Sarah could reply.

His quiet disposition and tight grip on your hand told you how annoyed he was at Sarah’s reminder of JJ and that night, and you mentally wondered if this was going to be a little thing or something that affected your whole night. Maybe even the next one too. He said nothing when he helped you into his truck, and so you were unsurprised that he was quiet his whole way to the movie too.

You were thankful this was the date of choice because it was easier to ignore Rafe’s mood when your eyes were glued to the screen. In fact, there were moments you forgot he was even there, giggling to whatever was going on in front of you. Once the movie was over, however, Rafe’s uncharacteristic silence was hard to ignore.

Knowing that you’d regret it, you finally spoke up when you made it back to his truck.

“I feel like you’re mad at me for some reason.”

It sounded silly to your ears, but then again, you knew your boyfriend like the back of your hand, and as little sense as it made, you had the sneaking suspicion that he put some blame with you somehow.

“Not mad,” he murmured, and you simply looked at him.

His gaze and the tightness in his jaw said otherwise, and despite his evident annoyance, he still claimed otherwise. He was silent as he opened your door—his irritation growing the longer you stared at him—and when he blinked, straightening, you finally slid inside. You weren’t surprised to have the door slammed in your face, and you could only sigh when he joined you.

The first few minutes of the drive were as quiet as before, but when Rafe finally cracked, you could only close your eyes.

“Why did you even want to go that night, anyway?” he bitterly chuckled.

You turned to look out of the window with a defeated heave of your shoulders, swallowing.

“You’ve never wanted to go before, and even then, some bonfire on the beach isn’t your thing. You go to house parties with pools and prissy bitches who don’t want to get their hair wet,” he sneered, making you look at him. “Yeah, JJ might’ve wanted to piss me off, but it was you he chose to do it through.”

“So…what…? It’s my fault? I should’ve never gone with you, is that what you’re saying?”

You frowned at him when he glanced at you, dirty blond hair kissing his forehead, and Rafe’s silence spoke volumes. Against your will, you felt your throat tightening, and you were unsurprised when tears kissed your eyes. You hated crying in front of Rafe.

“I just wanted to go, Rafe. I’d never been, and…it’s not like I have any friends to go with anymore. Would you have rather I’d gone alone?”

“Don’t be cute,” he threw at you, tossing you a scathing look. “You wouldn’t even get the chance to try.”

You huffed, looking away from him as he continued, watching the trees fly by.

“Besides, I thought we both agreed that your friends were catty airheads who you didn’t need to be around,” Rafe firmly said. “You have better friends, now.”

“Those are your friends,” you sighed. “…and I know because they barely talk to me. I’m just your girlfriend who’s supposed to stand there and look pretty.”

Those last words came out in a murmur, but Rafe heard them loud and clear.

“You’d have nothing to complain about if you didn’t ask to go in the first place.”

His words made your frown deepen, and despite what you wanted, a few tears escaped. You looked at him in disbelief, although, you didn’t know why. You should’ve been perfectly used to the words that came out of his mouth, sometimes, now.

“What am I supposed to do, Rafe?” you cried. “Just sit in my room, twiddling my thumbs until you come back?”

When he looked at you, he rolled those blue eyes of his, a scoff leaving his perfect lips.

“I don’t have time for the antics, tonight,” he breathed.

Now, it was your turn to scoff.

“You started it,” you pointed out.

You knew that you were already on thin ice, you could tell, but when Rafe cut his eyes back to you, your heart skipped a beat. You watched your boyfriend swipe his tongue between his lips, slowly nodding as he looked back at the road.

“Okay…” the truck started to slow as he inhaled. “Yeah, okay.”

You felt the hairs on your arms stand on end as he stopped in the middle of the road. It was late, so it wasn’t like the roads of Kildare County were littered with traffic, but it still made you nervous, nonetheless. You watched Rafe turn the truck off, and before you could say anything he was looking at you.

“Get out.”

His words made you blink, lips parting before snapping them shut.

“…what?”

One of Rafe’s arms leaned on the steering wheel while his other hand rested behind your headrest. Even in the darkness, there was a glint in his eyes that told you he was completely serious despite the insanity of the request. The atmosphere in the truck felt so tense—thick with it—and you pulled your lip between your teeth when Rafe leaned in, gaze cold and mocking.

“You said I started it? Well, now I’m finishing it. Get the fuck out of my truck,” Rafe quietly spat at you, making you flinch.

An incredulous bark of a laugh escaped you.

“Rafe, it’s the middle of the night, are you crazy?”

At your refusal to do what he asked, he merely turned away, opening his door. Your heart fell to your stomach as you watched him hurry to your side, yanking the door open and proceeding to yank you too.

“Rafe! What the hell-?”

Your words were cut off as you were forced to stumble out of the vehicle and into the road—without your purse. When he roughly shoved you away, you tripped over your own feet, hissing in pain as you barely caught yourself on your hands. Rafe was already back in his truck by the time you pushed yourself to your feet, and in shock, you watched him start it up. You’d only just reached the handle of the door when he sped off, and you screamed his name after him in a mix of fear and anger.

You couldn’t even really focus on the knowledge that you were in the middle of an empty stretch of road in the middle of the night. You were too angry and annoyed to, and with a sob, you pressed your face into your hands. You sniffed, wiping your face before wrapping your arms around yourself and looking around.

You knew that trying to go toe to toe with Rafe even just a little could prove to be disastrous. You just desperately wanted him to understand that all you had was him. With no friends and no social life outside of him, Rafe was all you had, and you weren’t the bad guy for simply wanting to go to a party with him. You knew he knew this though, so you didn’t even know why you bothered, but you just hated to be blamed for something JJ Maybank did solely because he and Rafe hated each other.

You were merely a tool in the incident.

Rafe was so childish sometimes, so this little display of anger shouldn’t have surprised you. Even still, your nerves were on end as you started to walk down the road. Like you’d thought earlier, there was no traffic in sight, and truthfully, nothing in Outer Banks was that far from anything else, but that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.

You wiped your face again, but fresh tears just fell.

It was cold, and while your jacket kept you from shaking, this still wasn’t the kind of weather to be walking down the street in. You couldn’t stop crying no matter how much you tried, debating with yourself if you wanted to just keep walking towards your house or try your chances with getting sympathy from some stranger. You knew what Rafe would prefer—and you knew what was statistically safer—but something in you wanted to piss him off further.

After all, he was the one who threw a tantrum and put you out on the side of the road in the middle of the night. Something in you was desperate to teach him a lesson, and you genuinely wondered what Rafe would do if you just…never came home. You wanted to see the look on his face when your parents called him asking if he’d seen you. However, something in you told you that he wouldn’t be as stricken as you’d think.

This was the same man who threatened to kill you on several occasions.

…but that was different.

That had always been when you tried to leave or even made him think you would leave. That was always said as a promise to make you stay, and even worse, that was when your demise would be at his hands. Rafe wouldn’t get the same satisfaction from leaving you to the mercy of the elements and strangers in the middle of the night.

You were just wiping more tears away when you could see headlights coming from the other end of the road. You weren’t on that side, so you weren’t all that concerned, and despite your earlier bleak thoughts, you actually didn’t relish getting in some stranger’s car and hoping he was honest enough to just take you where you needed to go.

However, your heart did sink a little when it became clear the vehicle was slowing down.

…but your worry morphed into irritation when you recognized the truck.

Rolling your eyes, you merely kept walking as Rafe slowed down enough to have a conversation with you. Or at least attempt to, anyway. You didn’t look at him, swallowing and keeping your tearful eyes straight ahead as you walked.

“Baby, get in the truck.”

“Why?” you wondered with a shrug. “You’re the one who kicked me out.”

“I don’t have time for this,” you heard him mumble. “Y/N, get in the truck.”

Against your better judgement, you ignored him, and Rafe stopped reversing to put the vehicle in park. You picked up your pace when you heard his door open, but Rafe was faster, and you could only attempt to pull away when he roughly grabbed your arm. Yanking you towards him, Rafe didn’t hesitate to push you against the side of the truck, making you wince.

His hold was so tight on your arm, and you shrank away from him when he pressed his nose to yours. His chest and shoulders were heaving, so you knew that he was beyond annoyed, now, but the stubborn part of you that reared its ugly head sometimes only stared back at him with trembling lips.

“I really don’t have time for this, tonight,” he whispered. “Get in the fucking truck, so we can go home.”

“You kicked me out! You go home…and I’ll just walk,” you tearfully spat, attempting to get out of his hold. “It’s what you wanted, anyway.”

Rafe’s impatience was bleeding through as you tried to get past him. One of his arms secured itself around your waist, the other gripping your arm as you attempted to grab that one. You were a mess of limbs and tears as you begged him to let go of you, Rafe’s low voice telling you to get it together.

You weren’t surprised when you found yourself harshly thrown to the ground.

You cried out when your chin bounced off of the pavement, unable to stop your fast descent in time. You heard Rafe curse from above you as a loud sob escaped, and you reached up to touch your chin, attempting to push yourself up. Rafe—in his haste—beat you to it though, grabbing you and forcing you to your feet. You could feel wetness on your chin as he forced you to the passenger side, quite literally shoving you into the truck.

You flinched when he slammed the door shut, tearful gaze focused on the glove compartment as he angrily joined you. When he told you to put on your seatbelt, you reluctantly did with trembling fingers, a choked cough escaping as you tried to stop crying. You couldn’t.

Rafe didn’t say a word to you the whole way back to his house, but you could feel his gaze on you every now and then. He didn’t turn on the radio, the only sound in the vehicle was that of your harsh wails. When he finally did stop in his yard, you both sat there for some time before a long sigh reached your ears.

“You know how I get,” you eventually heard him say. “You know I wouldn’t just…leave you out there.”

You didn’t say anything because you had nothing to say. You heard him shift, and you flinched again when the tips of his fingers grazed your face, his other hand coming up to gently take your chin. Turning you to face him, you watched his blue eyes roam over your face, taking in your tearful cheeks and bloody chin.

“I’m sorry.”

Not only was it something you’d heard a million times before, but you also knew that it was solely in reference to your face. Rafe wasn’t apologizing for kicking you out on the side of the road in the middle of the night. Why would he apologize for that when he felt that was justified? When you said nothing in response, he opted for getting out, and when he opened your door, you hesitated before taking his offered hand.

Once you were standing before him, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you against him. You felt him press his lips into your hair, deeply inhaling. He quietly apologized again, and his words hung in the air as you knew what he wanted. Sniffling, you nodded.

“It’s okay,” you whispered. “It was an accident.”

It wasn’t…because even if Rafe hadn’t explicitly tried to make you bleed, he had intended to hurt you. In these moments, in the aftermath of whatever else Rafe did, it was so easy to think to yourself that you’d leave him. It was almost too easy to hype yourself up, but then you’d think about how it felt to be on the receiving end of that emotionless stare, dead eyes gazing back at you. You’d think about the fear you’d feel whenever his hand was round your neck.

…or the feel of the barrel of a gun in your mouth.

It was so easy until you remembered that Rafe would actually kill you, and you’d learned a long time ago that Rafe wasn’t one to bluff.

You were making something to eat when you heard someone coming down the stairs, and when you glanced up, you weren’t surprised to make eye contact with Sarah. You knew she was home, and you’d heard her friends downstairs not too long ago. You surmised that they were outside waiting for her judging by her state of undress.

“Oh,” she said, sounding a little startled to see you. “I didn’t know you were still here. Where’s Rafe?”

She glanced towards the stairs, and you confirmed her suspicions that he was indeed gone.

“He went to the club with Kelce and Topper.”

You gave her a shrug, answering her silent question.

“I didn’t really feel like going.”

It wasn’t a lie, but you also knew that even if you did feel like going, it probably wouldn’t have gone over well. The last time you went to the country club with Rafe, it didn’t exactly end the best. Running into some of his more casual friends had apparently sparked a conversation that you unfortunately bore the brunt of. It amazed you, really, how Rafe wanted both an attractive girlfriend his friends could envy him for while also losing his mind if said friends dared to say it.

“Oh,” she said again, a little more dejected this time.

Your attention was focused on your food, so you didn’t even realize Sarah was still lingering about until she spoke again.

“We’re going to the beach,” she suddenly blurted out, and you’d guessed as much at the sight of her bikini top. “You should come with us.”

At that you paused, giving her a questionable look that conveyed exactly what you were thinking. Sarah sighed, dropping her bag to the floor before nearing you with a roll of her eyes.

“I know that we’re not friends,” she slowly started, scrunching her face. “…but you’ve been dating my brother for like, what, two years?”

You glanced down at that.

“…and…I know it’s not my place, but you just seem lonely sometimes,” she hurried to continue when your gaze met hers. “I mean, I never really see you do anything that doesn’t involve Rafe. At least, not anymore.”

You swallowed at that.

“Come on, he’s at the stupid country club with his friends, and you’re just waiting for him to get back. Surely, you can’t like that.”

Sarah was more right than she knew, but you swallowed that down.

“I told you, Sarah, I didn’t want to go. I’m fine just hanging out here. I like being at your house,” you chuckled.

Sarah looked like she wanted to say something else but thought better of it. However, she did eye you though with a look you couldn’t place, and you sent her a reassuring smile as you grabbed your plate.

“You guys have fun,” you encouraged, touching her arm on your way past her.

You wondered how pathetic you’d become if your boyfriend’s younger sister was extending a hesitant offer of friendship. Granted, it wasn’t like she was outside your age group or anything, because she wasn’t, but the other circumstances surrounding your relationship just made it seem sad on your end. Your boyfriend’s little sister wanted to make up for how her brother treated you, and it was laughable in the worst way.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of the hallway bathroom door opening, and you sharply inhaled as you almost quite literally ran into the last person you ever expected to see in the Cameron household. Now, you understood why Sarah had been worriedly eyeing the stairs as she asked if Rafe was home.

JJ Maybank looked just as startled to see you, but he recovered quicker than you did.

“Sorry,” you rushed out, breaking eye contact and moving to get past him.

You slowed when you recalled your brief glance at his face, guilt eating at you at the bruising that was still faint around the area of his nose. Briefly pressing your fingers to your forehead, you turned around, a little shocked to find the blond already staring at you. That discovery gave you pause, but you quickly pushed it aside.

“I’m sorry, by the way.”

You watched him raise his brows at you, but JJ otherwise said nothing, and so you elaborated.

“About your nose,” you told him, and JJ nodded in understanding. “Sure, you were being…a bit of a jerk, but Rafe shouldn’t have done that.”

At your words, you watched something flicker over his features, and the corner of his lips curved upwards just enough to be noticeable.

“You thought I was being an asshole,” he pointed out, and you snorted.

“I didn’t say that-.”

“…but it’s what you meant,” he slowly interrupted, stepping towards you.

You took note of the action, frowning a bit before glancing away.

You knew that Rafe would throw you down the stairs for even looking at JJ Maybank, let alone having a full-blown conversation with him, but the polite manner in which you’d been raised wouldn’t let you walk by the guy without saying anything in reference to Rafe’s behavior that night. Choosing to let the conversation die, you sighed.

“I just wanted to apologize for how he acted. That’s all.”

You gave him a strained smile before turning away, pausing when he spoke.

“You know, your boyfriend’s a bit of an asshole too.”

You tensed for half a second before turning to face him, stomach twisting at that mocking curve to his lips. Blinking, you wondered how to respond to that.

“That’s your opinion.”

“One you agree with,” he argued with a slow smile, studying your face as he pulled his lip between his teeth. “I can tell. You think he’s an asshole too. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be apologizing on his behalf.”

Maybe it was because Rafe took JJ’s actions that night out on you, but you actually felt yourself getting irritated.

“I wouldn’t have to apologize for anything if you hadn’t been trying to provoke him. We all know what he’s like, and you two don’t exactly have the best history,” you shrugged.

The other man didn’t respond right away, simply leaning against the wall with one hand shoved into his pocket. You felt a little self-conscious the longer he stared at you, doubly so when his blue gaze lowered. Having expected no one outside of immediate family to be in the house, you were only sporting one of Rafe’s shirts. It came down to your knees, but in front of JJ, you might as well had been wearing a thong.

It's how Rafe would see it, anyway.

“Is that what you do?”

At your blink of confusion, he continued.

“When he’s being…well…Rafe, do you tell yourself that’s just how he is and you know what he’s like and so you should know better?”

JJ’s words struck a nerve, more than he’d ever know, and you glanced away. You guessed that your silence was answer enough, and when you looked back to him, he was nodding to himself.

“Sounds to me like you need a better boyfriend,” he told you with an amused smile, shrugging at you.

Realizing that this conversation went far beyond what you intended, you chose not to dignify that with a response. You could still feel the heat of his gaze as you walked to Rafe’s room, and when you paused with your hand on the knob, you glanced up to catch his eye. JJ hadn’t moved, at all, simply opting to stare at you, blond hair messy in a way that Rafe’s would never be.

You recalled what Rafe said about JJ being trouble, and it was only then did you consider he might be trouble in a way you hadn’t thought about before. When the sound of Sarah’s voice traveled upstairs, JJ’s name in the air, only then did he glance over his shoulder, and you took that opportunity to lock yourself inside of your boyfriend’s room.

#jj maybank x reader #dark!jj maybank x reader #dark!jj maybank #jj maybank #obx imagine #rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe cameron #obx fanfiction #jj maybank fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine

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ja3yun · 7 months

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Melting Point | P.SH | CH.2

brother's rival!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), oral (f. rec), protected sex, fingering, pussy drunk!hoon, praise kink, pleading, angst, mentions of lack of self-belief, confrontation, overthinking, anything else lmk! ch.2 synopsis: your guilty conscience takes over and you have no choice but to end the fleeting romance you had only yesterday, but as your connection gets stronger, you fight an emotional battle within yourself. wc: 12.5k+ previous | masterlist | next a/n: hi! thank you so much for all your love on the first chapter, i am overwhelmed with your kind words. this is a chapter that helps understand the connection between ynhoon. after this chapter it's kinda full throttle with plot so enjoy the smut and tiny bit of angst. feedback, likes, reblogs, comments are all welcome :)

Walking into Belmore after your Uni classes the next day felt icky. Before your conversation with Minhee last night you were on cloud 9, looking forward to seeing Sunghoon again, but now all you feel is guilt, not just to Minhee but to Sunghoon too.

You’ve essentially led him on, promised him a next time that you couldn’t give him. But why was this so hard for you? You only spent approximately 4 hours with the boy which isn’t even half a shift you do at work on a Thursday.

He pulled you in, something is magnetising about him, you just can’t shake off. If you phoned Rina right now she would tell you how stupid you sound, you can practically hear her voice in your head telling you ‘he’s just a man, Y/N.’ and you know she’s right.

But jeez, when he kissed you it was like a switch flipped from fancying him to needing him; and in more ways than just his touch.

Sunghoon probably wouldn’t be affected anyway, why would he? He could get any girl he wanted.

The sound of Coach Lee shouting bellows around the rink once you enter, he’s a lot harsher than Coach Kim, more stern and direct with his words. Just this morning when you were at Minhee’s training his coach apologised for raising his voice when he landed late so to see Sunghoon’s coach red in the face was new to you. If it was you on the ice you’d curl up into a ball and cry if he ever spoke to you that way.

It doesn’t bother Sunghoon though, listening and adapting himself per instructions. His ice skates glide across the rink in his sleek Puma training joggers and tight-fit Gymshark pullover. He’s usually wearing this or something similar when he trains but now you’re taking in how truly beautiful he looked even in something as simple as this.

“Sunghoon you’re missing a whole rotation how many times do we have to do this?” Coach Lee yells as the skater lands from his supposed to be triple axel, “Can you screw your head on and fucking focus.”

A feeling of protectiveness comes over you as your eyes fall to Sunghoon. He’s getting aggy with himself and the Coach isn’t helping. It doesn’t make sense that he can’t do a triple, he could do them in his sleep at this point.

With his hands on his hips, he glides back to his coach and mother, his demeanour heavy with a burden you can almost feel radiating from him. The slope of his shoulders and the downturn of his eyes speak volumes, signalling an impending storm of reprimands and disappointment. Though their words are lost in the distance, you can sense the tension hanging thick in the air.

Sunghoon does a lap around the ice and as he sweeps around to the side you’re sitting at he spots you taking out your study supplies as you watch him. When your gazes meet for the first time that day he smiles diminutively at you; it’s not like how he smiled yesterday, he was so vibrant, and now it's like someone sucked the joy out of him.

Now that you think about it, you usually miss his official training sessions, by the time you get to the rink it’s just him on his own, so this environment is new to you.

As time flies by, you’ve highlighted approximately 2 sentences in your textbook and written one reference - not your best work but you make do. It’s hard to focus on studying when all you’re thinking about is him and suddenly the 4 marketing P’s weren’t interesting to you anymore. Not as interesting as his lips, or his tongue, or the way he found the sweet spot on your neck almost in an instant, or how beautiful he looks flying through the air right now. Your 4 P’s all start with Park Sunghoon.

“Go cool off for a minute, Park. Come back when you’re ready to take this seriously. Nationals are 3 fucking months away and you’re skating like my fucking 2 year old.” Sunghoon grunts as his coach yells at him again, walking off and into the changing room.

He throws himself onto the bench next to his stuff and leans his head against the wall, staring at the ceiling. What the fuck is going on with him today?

You.

You are what’s wrong with him, he can’t think straight when you’re running laps in his mind like it’s a sport and you’re aiming for first place. It’s so bad he even dreamt of you last night, you were in the crowd of Nationals cheering him on, and when he won you ran onto the ice and kissed him so passionately that if his alarm hadn’t woke him up then you both probably would have given the crowd an R rated celebration that made the ice melt. He hates his alarm more than ever before.

His fingers trace his lips as he recalls the kisses you graced him with last night. Sunghoon doesn’t have an addictive personality but he’s in dire need of your lips right now.

After about 5 minutes since Sunghoon disappeared, your phone buzzed twice. Taking it from your pocket you see 2 new messages.

No.1 Ice Skater 🧊🤍:

5:26pm: come to the changing rooms

5.26pm: leave your stuff

When did he get your number? And when did he save him under that name? It doesn’t really matter because this is your chance to nip whatever this relationship is in the bud. You didn’t want to do it but for guilty conscience's sake and Minhee, you would.

As instructed you leave your study stuff behind and quickly walk to the back, hoping Mrs. Park doesn’t get suspicious. She’s scary when she wants to be and if she saw you meeting her son in an enclosed area she’ll flip the fuck out.

You hate the changing rooms, they’re dreary and off putting, couldn’t he have asked to meet you outside or literally anywhere else?

Pushing the door open cautiously, you find Sunghoon seated with his elbows propped on his knees, his head hanging low in an air of despondency. His prized black skates lie discarded on the floor nearby, a stark contrast to their usual gleam of victory.

Should you tell him you aren’t going to see him again right now? Looking at the boy like this makes it seem cruel to add another level of dismay his way. But he won’t care too much, right? It’s like you’ve been saying, or rather convincing yourself; he could get any girl in the world.

“Sunghoon?” Slowly, you close the heavy grey door behind you to minimise the noise, scared that someone will know you’re here! “You text me? When did you get my nu-”

Too busy shutting the door you don’t see Sunghoon abruptly stand up and walk over to you like he’s on a mission. He is on a mission and it’s exactly that which has your back pushed against the door.

Sunghoon’s body is pressed against yours and his mouth is attacking your lips roughly. He doesn’t answer you back, instead just moaning into your mouth. You can only kiss him back and get lost in the sensation you’ve been eagerly wanting since last night.

But you came in here to stop this from happening again, “Hoonie, we need to talk.” The level of your voice is barely above a whisper, you don’t want to stop this, not right now and not in the future.

Like a man depraved he doesn’t listen, the mix of frustration oozing off his body due to pent-up rage from training and the urgency he’s feeling just to taste you again is all too much.

“Been thinking about you all night,” Messily and sloppily his tongue licks your bottom lip and dips into your mouth when you groan out his name, exploring every bit of you that he can, “Next time couldn’t come soon enough, Sweets.”

He won’t tell you that last night he thought about you when he got home, wanking himself silly to the memory of your weight on his lap, his mind replacing the image of the machine that got your pumping actions with his cock. And then this morning he imagined you in the shower with him, how he would almost drown just to have a taste of your pussy.

Mind racing with every kiss and grinding of his hips into yours, you start to forget what you need to say to him, your legs mirroring how your brain was as they wrapped around him. All prohibitions about being with Sunghoon slowly fade into the distance.

“Fuck I need you so bad, Y/N. Let me have you.” Honestly, you would rather not do this in a sweaty changing room but right now you’ll do it in a bin lorry if it means his hands are all over you. So you nod and he takes it as the green light to unzip your jacket and push it off your shoulders, “I don’t have a lot of time, Sweets, and I'd love nothing more than to take my time and kiss you from head to toe but they’re gonna look for me soon.”

Despite knowing that this should be the moment to put an end to it all, to disentangle yourself from him and confess that you can't continue this affair? Situationship? Fun? Whatever you want to call it, you find yourself unable to resist the pull of desire and longing.

"I know, it's okay," you say softly, reflecting your own urgent need. "I'll take what I can get."

Your admission mirrors his own desperation, igniting a fire within him that he can't ignore. The knowledge that you feel the same way he does fills his heart with an inexplicable warmth, setting his body on fire.

Slithering down your body, his mouth hangs open and you can feel his warm breath even over your clothes. His nose is being pushed up by your stomach, that's how close he is to you.

His fingers grip the waistband of your leggings, pulling them down swiftly. Your pink panties with white hearts on them take him by surprise and you flush with embarrassment, “I didn’t think anyone was going to see them.” You confess. If you had known you were going to have Korea’s Ice Prince centimetres away from your vagina you probably would have opted for something more appealing.

“You’re so fucking cute, Sweets.” He smiles up at you, maintaining contact as he places a kiss on your stomach, going down in a neat line until he plants his mouth over your covered clit.

The eye contact is insane, Sunghoon is one of if not the most confident people you know. None of your other male ventures even bothered to look at you, rather settle for a quick backshot, so to have Sunghoon, even on a time limit, make sure you know how much he wants you is crazy.

He runs a finger over your underwear and feels the wet patch you’ve made. It entices him to dip his finger in to see how soaked you are, “Sweets you’re fucking melting.” He brings the finger to his lips and sucks up your essence, moaning as he does, “I can’t wait anymore.” His voice is low.

Sliding your underwear down you kick them aside and before they can even hit the cold ground a few steps away, Sunghoon grabs your calves and puts them over his broad shoulders, using his strength to boost you up. The height you’re at almost reminds you of the Zamboni, however the sight below you is much more ethereal than resurfaced ice.

Sunghoon effortlessly supports you, your legs dangling over him as he positions himself precisely to devour you. His hands hold you steady against the cold metal door, and his breath warms the gap between your thighs. The sensation drives you to instinctively raise your hips, inviting him closer.

"So fucking pretty," he whispers, sending chills down your spine. As he begins to lap at your core with his tongue, you can't help but clutch his hair, your fingers tangled in the strands as you grind into his face. Despite your peculiar position, you have an undeniable sense of trust in him, knowing he won't let you fall.

Overcome with how you taste, he doesn’t even register your fingers in his hair, pulling at it harshly when he circles your clit with his tongue. You’re so wet as he slurps you up but there’s so much it’s dripping onto his chin. It serves as motivation to keep going, to pleasure you as much as possible.

Sunghoon isn’t scared to admit it, he gets pussy drunk so fast. The way each one is different in taste, he can get lost in folds for hours. The longest he’s gone down on a girl was 30 minutes before she tapped out, he didn’t even know it had been that long, to be honest.

He wishes he could spend that amount of time on you right now, but he’ll have to deal with the time he has in these circumstances. He’s already been gone 20 minutes, 10 more minutes and Coach Lee will come looking. That means 10 minutes to get you off..

Sunghoon’s tongue runs itself along your entrance and it makes you buckle, pushing his head in further. Smiling, he continues his effort, making you a panting mess. His tongue was a gift from whoever is above and you’ll need to thank them later because you don’t think, no, you know you haven’t once felt as good as you do now.

Dipping his tongue in a few times helps him gauge how tight you are, you’re going to fit so perfectly around his cock. Even with just his tongue, he can feel you squeezing, “You’re amazing, Sweet, a goddamn dream.”

His appraisals are sending you closer to the edge. You didn’t know you liked the words of affection until now. You should have guessed you would have some sort of praise kink considering your whole life has been about making sure people can be proud of you. It’s embarrassing to admit, but maybe all those psychologists are onto something with the parental issues being linked to sexual desires.

Your clit is suddenly being simulated by his nose, it poking at it slightly the more bountiful he inserts his tongue. It feels otherworldly, “Hoonie, s’good, so so good, shit.” Your fingers harshly massage his scalp as you wiggle, close to cumming.

He knows it too, you’re dripping so much it’s leaking from his chin and onto his top. It’s so fucking hot how you’re a mess like this, just for him. Sunghoon knows that if you’re close, he can’t change his pace unless you ask him to, so he’s flicking his tongue into you, utilising his nose to prod your nub, and just a few seconds later, you’re coming undone.

“That’s it, Sweets, doing so good for me.” More praise, it’s driving you crazy.

As you cum, you bite your lips to hold back the noises that you want to scream from your chest, well aware that anyone could walk by and catch you both. The man between your legs doesn’t let up, however, his mouth still working you through your orgasm and causing you to push his head back, “Sunghoon you need to go back.” But he doesn’t listen, rather, he makes eye contact with your puffed-out clit and attaches his mouth to it.

Coach Lee or his mum could walk in right now and it still wouldn’t stop him from getting you off one more time. Hell, the world could be burning around you and he couldn’t give two shits, he needed more of you.

His legs and arms were getting tired of holding you up though and if he planned to get back out on that rink and nail his routine he would need to put you down from his shoulders. Such a shame because your thighs crushing his head like this is transcendental.

Moving slowly down he bends his legs and you get the hint and hop off. You think he’s finally giving you rest, parting ways with you, but once he finds himself on his knees, almost like he’s praying to you for more, “One more, let me do one more.” He pleads but he doesn’t wait for an answer, diving into your pussy once again. Manhandling your legs he pushes them open to give him better access to your aching clit.

Sunghoon’s biting your button softly, licking to heal it if he goes a little too hard. He loses control sometimes like that but it’s nothing you’re complaining about, even if it nipped for a second his flat tongue was making you forget. His mouth seems to always make you forget things.

His hands rub up and down your shaking legs as he stimulates you into another orgasm.

Is he really going to make you cum again? The answer is yes he is, and quickly too. It took him 4 minutes approximately after your last one to get you pouring over his face again. He’s magic.

“Holy shit, Hoonie,” Your body is starting to crumble beneath you, the weight of you suddenly too heavy to hold up. But you have no choice, you need to gather yourself because you hear a familiar aggravated voice shout down the hall.

“Park Sunghoon you better be doing some serious reflecting if you’re gonna be gone this long. Get your pretty boy ass back to this rink. NOW.”

Tapping his head urgently you try to bring him back from his drunken state, “Hoon, you need to go before he comes in here.” The panic in your voice brings him out of his daze but Sunghoon’s demeanour doesn’t mirror yours.

He places a few lingering kisses on the side of your lips, “You drive me crazy, can’t concentrate out there because of you,” Coach Lee’s footsteps are getting heavier the closer he gets to the changing room you’re both occupying, “Meet me after training? I’ll drive you home.”

His composure brings a sense of calmness, soothing your nerves despite the urgency of the situation, "You're going to be here forever though, not exactly having a good day out there," you remark, your hand reaching up to wipe his mouth clean of your essence, much to his dismay.

In an instant, you've shed the panic and meekness you displayed just moments ago, reverting back to your playful and teasing self. You’re back to being his usual Y/N.

Grabbing your chin he holds your head to look at him, “It’s because you drive me fucking delirious, Sweets. You’re all my brain can think about, I just told you that. Are you going to take some responsibility?”

Your scoff gets interrupted by banging on the door.

“Shh, stay there.” Sunghoon maneuvres you to the side so you’re behind the door and pulls the door open, coming face to face with his coach, “Sorry, I was trying to get over this mental block, let me grab my skates and I’ll be out.” All while he’s speaking, his left hand has yours in his, stroking reassurance into you with his thumb.

"You have 2 minutes, and then I want you back out there doing this routine flawlessly, do you understand?" Coach Lee's voice interrupts the intimacy of the moment and instills a sense of urgency in the air.

"Yes, sir," Sunghoon replies, making a sharp salute before closing the door behind him. Turning back to you, his expression softens: "So? "Let me take you home?" he asks his hands still tied with yours.

As he speaks, it dawns on you just how risky his actions were. You're still naked from the waist down, your pants lying in plain sight by the door where Sunghoon carelessly tossed them. Yet, despite the gravity of the situation, his touch manages to calm you down, just as it did yesterday.

“I’ll tell you what,” You retrieve your bottom half clothing, Sunghoon shamelessly biting his lip at the sight of your bare ass, his mind briefly entertaining the idea of risking the 2-minute warning. “If you do this routine perfectly—so perfectly that your coach is elated—I’ll let you drive me home,” you propose, shimmying your leggings on. Fixing your gaze on his, you add, “And if you can manage it quickly, I’ll let you have your way with me in the backseat. Deal?”

Sunghoon’s mouth hung open as he nodded, not taking his eyes off you while he bent down to grab his skates. He is so glad he kissed you yesterday.

Hurriedly, he approaches you, planting one last kiss on your lips. “Better pack up your uni stuff, Sweets,” he murmurs, his voice laced with anticipation, “I’ll be done in 10.”

You make your way back to your belongings, glad all of it is still there. Not that anyone would steal it, but you can’t ever be too careful.

Once Sunghoon dashed out of the changing room you waited a couple more minutes to make it less conspicuous, hoping people would have either not noticed you had gone at all or thought it was one long bathroom break. Your shaking legs as you walked back to your seat were an indicator of what just happened, luckily for you, you kept them tame.

Imagine if you walked into that changing room and stopped it, telling him you couldn’t because you were too loyal to your brother. Can you deny yourself this chance to explore the connection you and Sunghoon have?

“There we go, that’s the skater I trained! One more full run-through, Sunghoon.”

Sunghoon skates beautifully, hitting his jumps and landing them perfectly. Amazing what good pussy will do to a man. He’s smiling, knowing that if he does this last run perfectly, he gets to whisk you away and have you bouncing on his cock like he’s dreamed about.

Thank god athletes pop random boners when they train or else he’d have some serious problems trying to explain what's got him so excited.

As he nails his consecutive loop jumps he almost giggles as he makes eye contact with you, your smile is soft and it makes his heart beat quicker which is alarming considering it’s already hammering in his chest. Throwing you a wink and biting his lip, Sunghoon gears up for his axel, if he hits this it’s plain sailing and he can look forward to you fucked out in his car.

Like the showman he is, Sunghoon does the triple axel perfectly and wipes his forehead as if to say ‘no sweat’. His confidence is so sexy, you could feel yourself getting turned on again. Your body was aching for his touch, and it was soon to get it.

You can see Coach Lee clapping and shouting praise, opposite to how he was 40 minutes ago. But Mrs. Park doesn’t look happy; her arms are crossed and her lips are bitten thin. She’s disappointed, you know that look because it’s the exact same look your mum gives Minhee.

How could she not be at least a little elated considering her son just nailed his Naitonal level routine flawlessly?

Because he didn’t get it right the first time. That’s why.

As Sunghoon finishes his routine and faces his mother, he braces himself for her reaction. "How did I do?" he asks, hopeful for even a shred of acknowledgement.

But her response is cold and dismissive. "I'm going home, Coach Lee. Thank you for your continued hard work," she says without a glance in her son's direction, her lack of praise cutting deeper than any criticism.

Sunghoon's heart sinks as he watches her walk away without a word or a second glance. It's a familiar scene—one that stirs up the protective instinct that had surged in you earlier. Seeing his vibrant smile fade into nothingness speaks volumes. It meant this had happened more than once.

“We’re going to work on your facial expressions because you can’t be smiling like that at Nationals,” Coach Lee clapped his hand on Sunghoon’s shoulder, “You did good, Kid. Whatever the fuck you did to get out of your rut worked wonders.”

As Coach Lee's words sink in, Sunghoon nods slowly, acknowledging the feedback before skating off the ice to put on his blade protectors. "Thanks, Coach," he mumbles quietly before making his way to the back to hit the showers.

You observe his defeated posture, his shoulders slumping with each step. It's evident that he's trying to take it all in stride, but the weight of disappointment hangs heavy on him. You can't help but empathize; after all, you understand all too well the sting of not feeling enough, having experienced similar treatment from your own mother.

Remembering how Sunghoon lent you support just yesterday, you feel compelled to reciprocate. It's only fair to offer him the same kindness and understanding in return.

A text comes through as you start to pack everything away.

No.1 Ice Skater 🧊🤍:

6.32pm: Meet you at the car, sweets

6.32pm: :)

Quickly, you shove everything into your bag and walk to the parking lot, saying goodbye to Miss Barbara on the way out. You’re trying to stay as chill as possible like you weren’t about to have unabashed car sex.

The lot is empty except for 3 cars, Sunghoon’s - obviously, Coach Lee’s, and Miss Barbara’s. All of them inside so no one would see you perched atop Sunghoon’s car hood, anticipating what was to come.

10 minutes pass and the main door of Belmore swings open, Sunghoon is now dressed in wide-legged jeans, a plain white t-shirt, and his signature coat, the one that kept you warm last night. He looks so beautiful and he’s thinking the same about you.

Seeing you sitting on top of his car hood with your legs swinging lightly has his heart swelling. You look cuter than anything he has ever seen with your coat up to your ears. He wasn’t in a good mood but even just the sight of you was enough to get a smile creeping on his face.

His mum had put him in a sour state, her inability to show any praise made him feel shame and disgust in himself. He should have just got it right the first time.

You outstretch your arms and open your legs, inviting him to slot his body between yours which he gladly does. Sunghoon’s arms slink their way around your body, his forehead resting on your shoulder, the faux fur from your hood tickles his nose but he doesn’t care, and you run your fingers in his hair. No words have to be said, it’s like you know each other so well already, so interlinked with one another that you think you would have been together for years.

“You did amazing, Hoonie,” Looking into his eyes that have been drained of life once again causes you to kiss his lips softly, trying to bring back some of the Sunghoon you had the honour of witnessing yesterday, “I’m so proud of you, so so proud.”

If his mum couldn’t do the decent thing and make him feel special, you guess you will, “You looked so pretty out there, I think that was your best triple I've seen.”

“Y/N you don’t have to-”

“You’re like a dream on the rink, I’ve always thought it,” Kissing him between sentences to silence his protests seemed to work in easing him, “You’re made to be on that ice, Hoonie.”

He could cry. He won’t because that’s not who he is but as you speak he can feel his throat tightening up. Even if you were only pandering to him, he needed to hear these words. It meant more to him than you would ever know.

"Sweets," He pauses, his eyes shaking as he looks at you, "I think I'm meant to be right here." It was an unexpected confession, one that went beyond the surface level of the words shared.

It’s scary for Sunghoon to be affected like this so quickly, you feel the same, it’s like one of those far-fetched romance novels where the two main characters fall for each other instantly. No, it’s not love, not for any of you, however, there is an attraction between both of you that transcends lust and superficial attraction, it’s soulful.

He brings you closer to him, the right side of his mouth upturning slightly, “About that backseat action you promised.” You laugh and nod as his eyebrows wiggle. He didn’t want this to turn too deep, scared of opening up something inside him he wasn’t ready for you to see.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” You jump off the hood and open the front seat. It puzzles Sunghoon because he thought he was going to have your legs spread across the back of the car, “Get in, trust me.” And he does just that, settling himself into the driver's seat awaiting your next move.

With everything that has happened today, he needed a little looking after, no matter what it took. Once he is comfortable you do one last glance to make sure no one is looking before following him in, straddling his lap. Shocked by the sudden presence of you on his lap he holds you still, “Sweets, it’s easier if we go bac-”

You pull the lever beside his seat and it lounges back, his eyes widen a little as you take complete control. He isn’t used to this, he has been the one to lead in every possible outcome in his life. To see you take the lead a little is turning him on tenfold.

“You looked so ethereal out there, I couldn’t take my eyes off you,” You take off your coat and throw it over to the passenger side, “You are so mesmerising.” And you didn’t just mean when he skates. As he lays beneath you he looks like a prince, sculpted by a god.

Kissing down his neck, your lips mutter sweet praises into him and you become acutely aware of his heart beating a little harder than before. Whether it’s because you’re on his lap and pressing down on his dick, or because for one of the first times in years, he’s receiving lionise for simply being him.

"You're so kind, you'd do anything for anyone. You helped me so much yesterday, and you didn't even need to," you say, gently pushing his jacket off his shoulders as he removes it, clumsily tossing it in the back.

"I wanted to," he whispers, his confident self fading into a shy vulnerability.

"Because you're beautiful inside and out," you murmur, grazing his neck with your lips, eliciting a low groan from Sunghoon. His hands find their way to your waist, holding onto you tightly.

The air in the car crackles with electricity, each touch fueling the growing intensity between you. As your lips meet in a hungry kiss, there's no turning back. Sunghoon sits upright, pulling you closer as if trying to fuse your bodies together.

“Sweets, I need you right now.” He pleads, his hips lifting to show you how much he truly craves you, his hard on brushing through the thin material of your leggings.

His hands push down your bottom half clothing, panties and all, and you try not so gracefully kick yourself out of them, the car horn honking loudly, “Shit.” Way to ruin the mood.

Sunghoon is laughing, his thumb circling your sides to comfort you, “You okay, Sweets?” Muttering a ‘yeah’ you shuffle up a little, “So fucking cute.” It came out without a second thought and as low as a whisper but he couldn’t help it, the way you froze up and your eyes expanded at the fright you gave yourself had him clutching his heart.

A rosé tinge spread across your cheeks and neck, blushing at his compliment. To regain some sense of control, you take his hand and guide it down to your entrance. Even the slight touch to your core makes you instantly soak his fingers.

It’s as if the prints of his fingers have buds the way he can taste you in his mouth again like his tongue is still in between your folds from earlier. His middle finger runs up from your hole to your clit a few times before sliding one finger into you, testing how tight you are.

Your hole sucks his finger in as he explores your walls, looking for a reaction of any kind. Sunghoon prides himself on ensuring his partners get the ultimate pleasure, even with a quicky. That much was evident when he was devouring your pussy not even an hour ago.

As his finger presses against your soft spot, you gasp quietly, “There she is.” He presses it repeatedly and you grip the headrest behind him, “C’mon Sweets if you’re going to grab onto anything, make sure it’s me.” With his free hand, he takes your wrists one at a time and puts them on his chest. You instantly bunch up his t-shirt and cling to him.

Now he’s got you like putty in his hands, quite literally, you’re unable to think about anything other than the wave of heat coursing through your lower half, and as he adds a second one, you heave out a low ‘fuck’, you press your hips harsher into his hand, his palm rubbing your still slightly overstimulated clit.

You look so beautiful right now, Sunghoon can’t tear his eyes away. The way you feel on his fingers has his dick twitching, leaking a little into his boxers. He had to have you.

“Are you sure about this?” He wanted you to be one hundred percent positive because he knows what having sex with him means, and as much as he doesn’t want to say it, he understands if you say to stop and leave it here. Your mind is a wonderful but cruel place, the overthinking of your guilty conscience could spiral, he knows that much.

“Positive. So, so positive.” Kissing him softly seals the confirmation. Right now you don’t care about anything else but you and Sunghoon.

Withdrawing his fingers leaves you chasing the feeling of being full, your hips following his hand, “What? Are my fingers enough?”

“Fuck no,” You lean down and kiss him again, your tongue swiping into his mouth, proving how starving you are for him.

He leans forward as your hands weave in his hair, trying to open the glove compartment but he can’t reach, your body obstructing him, “I need to grab a condom, Sweets.” He barely manages to get the sentence out, your lips constantly on his, “Reach behind and get me one, yeah?” But you aren’t listening, lost in his mouth and how his tongue feels dancing with yours.

Sunghoon laughs, “Y/N the sooner you get me one the sooner I can fuck you. That’s what you want isn’t it?” Okay, now the words are registering. You couldn’t spend one more minute without knowing what he feels like inside you.

Twisting to open the glove compartment you see a bunch of little things that tell you more about Sunghoon. For one, he had 3 bags of Skittles, a lighter, his insurance and other documents, and a bunch of Durex. Like there was a lot.

The boy under you pears to see what you’re looking at, his big hands still rubbing up and down your waist, “The lighter is my friend Jay’s, he always forgets one.”

Shaking your head you pull out 2 full strips of condoms, “How lucky do you get?”

He could lie and say he’s drowning in girls, but that would benefit no one; you’d feel like another conquest and he would look like a colossal prick. Girls always throw themselves at Sunghoon, especially on campus and although he could have his pick of anyone, he doesn’t have the time. He fucks, of course he does, but he doesn’t need it, so it’s not a priority. Not until now that is.

He thought it was so strange how his roommates would come back with people nearly every night or talk about how many times they’d been laid in the week. Turns out most guys are like that in Uni, but Sunghoon’s never had a normal young adult experience has he?

“I uh, I just bought them.” He says, eyeing up the packets, “I put some in the car for…y’know, this”

You raise your brows, “Oh? You already thought I’d put out?”

“I didn’t think so.” He takes one of the strips and rips one off, tossing the others back in the compartment, “I knew it.”

This arrogant son of a bitch.

“You are so,” You scrunch your hands in front of his face, balling them up. Rather than hitting him you just go back to kissing him, he might have been infuriatingly cocky, but fuck did you want him.

Sunghoon smiled into the kiss, knowing he didn’t actually presume anything was going to happen, not right now anyway, he just loved to rile you up a little.

Pulling back from the kiss he looks you up and down, “You’re so fucking gorgeous.” And you know he means it because as you stare into his eyes they have only thoughts of you painted in them.

Unbuttoning his jeans, he fails to notice you strip off your top, leaving you practically naked in front of him bar your bra. It was strange how comfortable you felt to be so bare with him like this.

You hover over him as he shimmies his bottoms and boxers down just enough for his cock to poke out. When he looks up, his breath catches in his throat at the sight of you in all your glory. "Jesus fucking Christ," he murmurs in awe, his hands instinctively finding their way to your breasts, squeezing them firmly yet tenderly, his fingers teasing your nipples.

As you look down, you admire his length laid against his t-shirt, his cock already flushed with arousal. He's big, as you had suspected from his tall stature and lengthy limbs, but seeing him in the flesh is a delightful surprise. You can't wait to feel him buried deep inside you. "Where's the condom?" you inquire, eager to take things to the next level.

“What?” he asks, his sole focus on your tits.

He is definitely a boob guy, “Condom, where is it?” You look expectantly at him, waiting for him to hand you it but he doesn’t, looking around him.

It’s here somewhere, he literally just had it, but he’s wasted enough time and his patience has worn thin, “Just grab another one from behind you.” Laughing lightly, you do as instructed and grab another one.

While you’re bent backwards and twisted to reach behind you, one of his hands slips between your legs again, stoking your centre, the pussy before him was glistening and inviting so who was he not to please it? The sudden intrusion makes you gasp, arching your back a little when he slips his fingers back in shallowly for a minute, just to tease you, to have you more desperate than you already are.

Shakily, you rip off another condom and open it, holding the rubber tightly to ensure you don’t drop it. You need him now.

You push his hand away, ironically whining at the loss you just caused but it’s for a good reason, a very good reason. Gently, you take hold of his long shaft as it leaks some pre-cum onto your hand and slips the condom on, pumping him a few times to make sure it’s secure. The action earns you a moan from the boy under you who is just happy to have some contact.

His hands deftly pull down your bra, allowing it to rest just under your breasts. "Your tits are literally perfection," he murmurs in admiration, his words sending a shiver down your spine. A giggle escapes your lips, but it quickly morphs into a small moan as his mouth latches onto your left breast, his hand eagerly reaching for the other.

His teeth graze your nipple, drawing out a gasp from you, followed by a trail of hot, wet kisses. His tongue flicks over your sensitive flesh with precision, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You find yourself groaning louder than before, amazed at how effortlessly he's able to turn you on.

You've never experienced this level of pleasure from someone playing with your tits before, but with him, it's like they have their own set of buttons, and he's an expert who's intimately familiar with every page of the manual.

Detaching from your breasts, Sunghoon can’t wait to be inside you any longer and lifts you up as you guide his member to your entrance, collecting the wetness you’ve been dripping onto him since you took your pants off. Your knees are a little sore due to the edges of the seat digging in, but as you sink down onto him, your weight shifts to sitting on his lap creating double pleasure.

His cock buries itself fully into your hole, filling you up to the brim, Sunghoon’s head falls back onto the headrest as your walls squeeze around him. You feel amazing, like nothing he’s experienced before.

There isn’t a lot of room to bounce so you settle for shallow movements, arching your back and lifting your hips as high as you can. What you don’t know is that it’s causing Sunghoon’s tip to drag a certain way in your core that is driving him crazy, “Sweets, you’re so fucking tight, when was the last time someone fucked you?”

It wasn’t a serious question, more rhetorical, but you answered anyway, “A month ago.”

His hands grip your ass harshly and spread your cheeks apart while he starts to guide you to go a bit faster, “I’d never leave you that long,” He opens his eyes to look at you, “I’d fuck you every chance I could get.”

“Why don’t you then?” You wistfully say in the moment but it sparks something in him.

Snapping his hips up to match your rhythm sends you both reeling, “You want that? Want me to fuck you wherever and whenever?” All you can do is nod frantically, your hands splayed on his chest, pussy clenching at the thought as you both steam up the car windows, “Yeah? One word and you can have it. Say please.”

Sunghoon smirks and you open your mouth to speak but one sharp thrust has you falling forward, letting his hips piston into you as he holds you close against him. He wants to tease you, edge you a little, but he’s so close he didn’t want to wait much longer, “C’mon, say pretty please.”

"Please, Hoonie, pretty please," you plead, burying your face into his neck, feeling a flush of embarrassment at how shamelessly you're begging for his touch.

"Please what? Tell me what you want," he responds, his fingers digging into your sides as he picks up the pace, thrusting deeper into you with each movement.

Your mouth hangs open, your breaths coming out in ragged gasps as he drives his hips forward, relentlessly hitting your g-spot over and over again, "Please make me cum," you moan, unable to hold back your desperate plea.

His movements falter for a moment, taken aback by your direct request. It wasn't what he was expecting you to say because that wasn’t his question, but he doesn't mind one bit, "You want to cum?" he asks, a hint of excitement in his voice as he continues to pleasure you.

“Yes, yes, please. I need to cum so bad.” You have never in your life acted like this before, so needy and desperate. There is a high possibility that you’ll be embarrassed once you snap out of this euphoria but right now he could make you say or do anything. As long as his cock is inside you, you are at his mercy.

Sunghoon picks up the pace, legs straining under you while he grabs your ass again and lifts it, doing your side of the work for you, “Cum on my cock, Sweets. Do it.” He’s just as desperate as you for release and with your hole hugging him tighter and tighter he can’t hold back much longer either.

Burrowing your head further into him, nose squished against his neck so you can inhale his shower gel, you start convulsing around him, your breathing ragged as your cum coats the condom, dripping out past your entrance and onto his thighs. You can’t remember the last time you came this hard that wasn’t from your own doing. He was magical.

Following suit, Sunghoon spills into the rubber, stomach twitching as he holds you down forcefully onto his lap so you have no way of popping off him. The feeling of you was too good to let go, not right now. His hips relaxed back into the seat, chest falling up and down as some time passed. He feels so good like he’s just placed gold, and by the smile on your face, he guesses that you feel the same.

The car is filled with panting from both of you. You can feel his cock still pulsing inside and it matches your beating heart. Sunghoon’s hands are roaming over your sticky body as he sits up and kisses all over your chest and neck, his eyes shut to heighten all his other senses. He thrusts up a few more times before lifting you off his softening cock.

You don’t want to be empty again, he filled you up so good, so you slip back onto his cock, “Sweets, what are you doing?” He keeps kissing along your breasts.

“5 more minutes.” You say. It’s not that you want another round per se, you just couldn’t get enough of being full of him, “Just give me 5 more minutes before you get post-nut clarity or something.”

“What the fuck is post-nut clarity?” Sunghoon questions. He’d never heard of it in his life.

You wipe some of the sweat atop his thick brows and sigh, “You know when guys cum and then they think you’re ugly after it?”

To say Sunghoon is offended is a trivialisation of how he actually feels. Is this what women think after they have sex? It’s preposterous in Sunghoon’s eyes because how could any man find women, especially you, ugly after the way you looked coming undone right in front of him, the way your jaw slacks as short pants leave your mouth, and the way your hair sticks to your face so dishevelled yet exactly where it’s supposed to lay.

"That's fucking stupid," he declares, his voice barely above a whisper as he cups your face and presses a tender kiss to your nose before tucking your hair behind your ears. "Whoever came up with that just couldn't get their girl to cum."

As you lock eyes with him, your heart skips a beat, and butterflies flutter in your stomach. "You're so pretty," you confess, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

“Yeah? Did you see yourself in my eyes?” He smirks, feeling proud of himself for the terrible line he’s just cast.

You light-heartedly slap his chest and roll your eyes, “You are so cheesy, oh my days.” He just lets out a small chuckle while he pulls your bra back up to its correct position, a little disheartened that he’s covering up his new favourite obsession.

Kissing your shoulder, he works his way up your neck and along to your mouth, smothering your lips with his. Sunghoon was aware that he had to get you home, not unlike yesterday, unless…

“Does your brother have practice tomorrow morning?” If he could get you to stay with him tonight, he could fuck you till the cows came home and that sounded like a far better plan than letting you go.

Sitting back, you give a tight smile and nod. "Yeah," you reply, the disappointment evident in your voice. But Sunghoon can't help but smile at your response, knowing that despite the circumstances, it means you want to spend more time with him the same way he does, "I better get going soon actually."

The pout that forms on your face is an invitation for him to lean in and peck your lips quickly once more just to let you know he really doesn’t want you to go, but he understands. The time he’s spent with you was too short, especially considering the hours he got to be in your company yesterday, he wanted to be with you more each time he spoke with you.

Lifting yourself off his lap, his cock slips out of you and its softened state lays to the left of him, condom filled and you’re a little jealous it’s not your pussy filled with his cum. You really need to stop getting jealous over everything that gets to speak or touch Sunghoon, especially inanimate objects.

“Sit there a minute, Sweets, don’t put your stuff back on yet,” He says as you plop yourself onto the passenger seat, obediently listening to him. Sunghoon peels the condom off and places it briefly on the dashboard while he gets his bottoms on. In one swift movement, he opens the door and runs to the bin with the used condom to dispose of it and quickly comes back to his car. You’re still sitting in nothing but your bra waiting patiently for him, just like he asked.

Reaching for the compartment on your side he pulls out a pack of wet wipes and takes one to help clean you up, separating your thighs to gain access to your pussy, “I’m just going to clean you up,” Sunghoon swipes the wipes along your thighs and through your folds, clearing your of any of your juices while making sure to be gentle around your sensitive areas.

The act made your heart race. Is it the bare minimum? Probably, but how many men have genuinely treated you this decent, especially after a quickie in a car? He isn’t even being sexy about it, focusing on the job at hand as his eyes make sure he cleaned you up properly. Just like with his condom, he walks to the bin with the wipe.

You quickly put on your clothes and as you reach down for your t-shirt, Sunghoon hops back into the driver seat, looking at you mournfully, wishing you would always walk around with just your bra, or better yet, nothing at all. His wank bank is going to be filled with your tits from now on, “I wish you didn’t have to go home,” Sunghoon confesses and you feel a sting in your chest.

“Me either, Hoonie.” He doesn’t say anything after that, instead, he buckles up and starts the journey to your house.

The drive isn’t awkward, there is just a longing silence, like time has been cut too short. Unfortunately, that’s just the way it is. In your mind, you’re both lucky to even have these moments together considering your circumstances.

Minhee.

That culpable feeling you hold lurches its way up your chest and into your throat. It’s like you forgot the whole purpose of going to the changing rooms to speak with Sunghoon was to tell him you couldn’t see him anymore. But how can you still say that after the way you both just connected? Sure, it was sex, but the feeling you both had during your time spent together was unimaginable like you had waited your whole life to touch him, to be with him like that. There is no way you can just leave this here.

There is that saying about how you can’t have your cake and eat it too. Your mind is so conflicted the same as last night but now it’s even worse because you spent more time with Sunghoon. In hindsight, it would have been a clever option to stop him before he gave you the best head of your life, but the damage is done.

“Sweets?” Sunghoon’s low voice brings you back, “We’re here.” Turning to your right you see your house illuminated, meaning both your brother and mum were home, to be fair it was only just after 8pm after all.

“Thanks, Hoonie.” Just as you’re unbuckling your seatbelt he pulls you in for another kiss, his hand cupping your cheek to pull you closer. When you feel his tongue swipe past your lips and into your mouth, all your worries melt away. It's reminiscent of the intimacy you shared in the changing room, but this time, you find the strength to pull back, resisting the temptation.

Sunghoon notices the wheels turning in your mind and reaches out to you, his voice filled with earnestness. "Y/N, whatever you're thinking about, please don't," he says gently, sensing that you might be overanalyzing what just transpired between the two of you. The last thing Sunghoon wants is for this to be the end, for this to be the last time he gets to see you and touch you this way.

“I need to go.” You say softly, not paying much attention to the pleading look on his face as he studies you.

He tries to say something as you get out of the car but you don’t bother to listen because if you did, you know you would simply cave and go back to him. Dashing into your home, you take your shoes off and regretfully hear Sunghoon’s car pull away.

Sleeping should surely clear your head, right?

Wrong.

The next morning when you awake in the wee hours before your alarm, you hear Minhee scooting about to get ready like usual, he’s quiet but with the silence of the world at 5am it’s natural for every little thing to sound amplified by 10. You could probably get another hour of sleep but decide against it, you’d only be more tired.

Peeling the covers from your body, your feet hit the ground as you twist out of bed and head down to the kitchen. Minhee is pouring himself some store-brand cornflakes, his favourite since he was a kid. Smiling softly, you grab the milk for him out of the fridge and slide it over the counter, but when he looks up you aren’t met with his normal loving eyes but rather stern, fierce ones.

“You’re up early.” He states matter of fact, unscrewing the cap to pour his milk into the bowl.

“Just woke up, we’re leaving soon anyway so.” You trail off, scared to ask him what’s wrong. Hopefully, it’s a simple case of the morning grumps that happens on occasion when he had a late night of studying, “Where is mum?”

He forces the milk back over to you, pushing it so hard you nearly don’t have a second to catch it, “She’s not coming.”

Huh? But she always comes to his practices. You wait a while, waiting for him to elaborate but he doesn’t, choosing to leave it there and take a bite of his breakfast. What is going on? Something is severely off this morning. Did they fight? Nothing seemed strange when you came home last night, yet again, you weren’t really focused on your surroundings. It’s not a secret that Minhee is a little scared of your mother, the whole momager thing only seemed to work for the Kardashians.

As you go to find out more he speaks, “Mum left the car, she grabbed an Uber. I’ll drive but I got class after so I can’t take you home.” He stops mid-motion, spoon sitting stagnant in the bowl, his jaw grinding, “Maybe Sunghoon can give you a lift home. I see he does that now.”

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit. He saw you last night. How?

The realisation hits you like the wicked witch being flattened by Dorothy’s house in Wizard of Oz; Sunghoon dropped you off right outside your house rather than a few blocks away like last time.

Fuck, now you have to think about this - do you confess to what’s happened the last couple of days, or lie? But he always knew when you lied, he had that sibling radar which has been a pain in the ass for years. Like when you broke his signed Hockey stick from Kim Sangwook, he knew right away it was you that snapped it in half because you were too busy flying it around, pretending to be the pro athlete you could never be.

Minhee doesn’t look at you so he misses the panicked look on your face, maybe you could play this off as no big deal. Don’t mention the fact that he ate you out in the changing room that he uses, and certainly don’t mention the quicky in the car, “W-what do you mean?”

The question makes Minhee raise his head to look at you, face even fiercer than before, “Don’t fucking start,” He was angry, like, super angry, “I saw that cunt’s car outside last night.”

Okay, so feigning ignorance wouldn’t work. You can’t even play it as if it’s someone else’s car and just the same make because none of your friends could afford a car so lovely.

“Don’t try to lie to me, Y/N. I saw it with my own eyes. Tell me why you got out of his car last night.” His cereal has been abandoned and his posture is tense as he leans on the island.

“I went to the rink to study like I always do, he offered me a ride home, no big deal.” Although your words are dismissive, you are trying so hard to make your voice match the nonchalantness.

Minhee doesn’t even blink, “You could have said no, you have no problem walking home any other time.” He has an answer for everything and there was no getting out of this other than utter denial.

“Mini, really, it was just a lift.”

“Y/N, let me make this perfectly clear, if I find out there is something more going on, like you’re dating him or something, I will tear him limb from limb.” A little piece of your heart falls away at his words. You knew it would be like this and now the guilt you felt has been dialed up to eighty, “Date anyone but him, Y/N. I’m so serious. I’ll kill him.”

Swallowing hard you shake your head, “It’s not like that. I wouldn’t do that.”

Your brother looks down at his watch and breathes out through his nose, “C’mon, if you get dressed just now we can stop for that blueberry muffin you like from Gino’s.” he walks up to you, laying a hand on your shoulder, “I know you wouldn’t do that, Bubs. I just want to protect you.”

As he walks up the stairs to get his things together you can only stand there as still as plywood. Minhee really didn’t leave you with much choice on your dilemma but if there was a silver lining, at least he made the decision easier. Why did it leave a horrible taste in your mouth?

______

Minhee walks behind you as you enter the rink, the chaos surrounding you instantly. It seemed like everyone and their granny was here today. The chatter of excited juniors and their parents mixes with the sounds of blades slicing the ice; it’s a nice pace, one of the many perks of the merge between Albion and Belmore.

As you make your way through the crowd, your attention is pulled to a group of 8 early teens lining up at the outer edge of the rink, preparing to showcase their skills in a rehearsal for the exhibition which is held in front of Junior judges. The exhibition is a key for determining the skaters' rankings for future events and championships. It makes the absurd business of the rink make sense.

You remember Minhee’s group performance of The Nutcracker like it was yesterday, his little royal suit and white wig still sit in his wardrobe to this day. Safe to say he was always going to reach the top level.

With a smile, Minhee leads you to the edge of the rink, his enthusiasm evident as he watches the young skaters with a sense of pride, "I'm so glad we didn't miss the rehearsal," he beams, his gaze fixed on the hopeful competitors as they prepare to take the ice. Minhee had been helping them a little the past few months so he was just as excited as the parents.

“When is the actual exhibition?” you ask.

"Tomorrow," he replies, his voice hushed in anticipation, "Coach Lee and Kim have both been training them so it's a big deal." This is the first time both coaches have worked with the same group of people so you understand everyone’s fascination.

As the lights dim and the skaters take their positions, you're fully immersed in the moment, your attention captivated by the young performers; you only hope they will do well. A figure standing beside you catches your peripheral vision, though you're too engrossed in what’s going on in the rink to give it much thought.

The young skaters begin their routine, each movement executed with precision and grace. Despite a few minor hiccups along the way, including a stumble here and there, the overall performance exudes promise and potential.

They’re so light on their feet that it pits envy in your stomach suddenly. If only you could be as talented as them, or at least stand on a pair of ice skates properly.

A hand slowly snakes into your grasp, fingers intertwining with yours. Looking up, you see Sunghoon standing next to you, filling you with a flutter of surprise. His eyes never meet yours, instead trained on the rehearsal, yet, it doesn’t stop him rubbing his thumb over your knuckles absentmindedly.

You can’t lie, it makes your heart beat a little quicker but you are hyper-aware of the brother standing to your left who literally told you just over an hour ago that you can’t even look at Sunghoon, nevermind hold his hand.

The performance comes to an end and the lights go up but Sunghoon still keeps a grip on your hand, turning to face you with a genuine smile. You could melt just at the sight of him.

Minhee's booming voice startles you, and you hastily pull your hand away from Sunghoon's, wiping it on the side of your leg as if trying to erase any evidence of his touch. Panic grips your chest as you avoid facing Minhee, fearful of being caught and having to provide an explanation you're not prepared to give. Lying to him this morning was already difficult enough.

Sunghoon briefly stretches out his hand, clearly missing your touch before reluctantly tucking it back into his pocket. "What is it, Minhee? Did you forget this is my rink too?" he responds, his tone steady despite the tension crackling in the air.

You silently pray for Minhee to drop the subject, dreading the possibility of a confrontation no matter how much you protest.

With a grunt, Minhee tilts his head and looks straight through Sunghoon. "You have your time and I have mine, so why the fuck are you here?" he demands, his words laced with irritation and suspicion.

Shrugging, Sunghoon smirks and leans on the edge of the rink; he looks so hot while he does it that you almost get on your knees instantly. You think he notices you wobble a little because his smug look only increases before he speaks, “Coach asked me to come in early. Probably to see if I could give you any pointers, I know you’re struggling a bunch with that toe loop.”

As Sunghoon points out a small flaw in Minhee's routine, you can sense the simmering frustration beneath your brother's composed exterior. You ponder whether the Coaches have actually discussed some of the problems your brother is having because he has been landing late on his toe loop.

You glance at Minhee, sensing the simmering frustration beneath his composed exterior. With a sardonic grin, Minhee retorts, "Yeah, because I really want advice from the guy who can't even land a quad Salchow without wiping out."

Suppressing the urge to intervene, you remain silent, unsure of how to navigate the escalating tension between the two. Sunghoon's casual demeanour contrasts sharply with Minhee's simmering anger, creating an uneasy atmosphere that seems ready to ignite at any moment.

Sunghoon's expression remains neutral, but a glint of disgust appears in his eyes before he conceals it in his typical cool manner. "If you won’t let me help you, I’m sure there are some spots left with the kids, you can run through the basics again," he responds, his tone tinged with resentment.

Minhee's temper rises, his nostrils flaring as he struggles to contain his rage, "Fuck you, Sunghoon," he spits out, his voice laced with venom, "Like I need advice from a model pretending to be a figure skater,” He scoffs and crosses his arms.

Narrowing his eyes at the insult, Sunghoon’s jaw tenses, clenching his fists by his sides. "Watch your mouth, Minhee," he warns through gritted teeth, his patience wearing thin.

But Minhee isn't done yet. "Oh, what's the matter, Sunghoon? Can't handle the truth?" he jeers, his tone dripping with derision. "You think you're so high and mighty, but we all know you're just a fraud who's riding on past glory."

“A fraud?” The boy in front of you laughs mockingly, smiling widely in disbelief, “At least I’ll make it to the Olympics next year while you’ll barely get a job scrubbing the skate plates.”

The air crackles with tension as their verbal sparring reaches a fever pitch, each word exchanged like a dagger aimed at the other's pride. You can practically feel the heat radiating from Minhee's seething anger.

With a scowl etched on his face, Minhee refuses to back down, his words fueled by a potent mix of resentment and fury. "You're nothing but a pretentious show-off, Sunghoon," he sneers, his voice dripping with contempt. "You may think you're some kind of skating hero, but in reality, you're just riding on your fame from that pretty face of yours."

Sunghoon's eyes flash with anger, his composure slipping as Minhee's words hit their mark. "And you're just a bitter, talentless wannabe who's jealous of anyone with actual skill," he fires back, his tone harsh. "You're so desperate to tear others down because you know you'll never make it on your own merits."

That didn’t just sting Minhee, but it struck you too with a horrible taste in your mouth. It’s one thing to make jabs at your brother, but you refuse for anyone to question his abilities, especially given all the challenges he's already faced.

“Sunghoon, enough,” You almost hiss at him, coming to your brother's defence like you always have, “Don’t talk to him like that, got it?” The look in his eyes softens momentarily, a flicker of remorse crossing his features.

"Got it," he retorts, his tone sharp, however, there's a subtle glimmer of sincerity in his eyes, a silent apology meant for you alone, hidden behind the facade of bravado. His eyes glance to Minhee, "Wouldn't want to upset big brother, now would we?"

“Y/N, go sit down, don’t involve yourself in this,” Minhee pushes you to the side lightly, standing toe-to-toe with Sunghoon now, “Don’t get in my way, Park,” Minhee threatens him. You shift your eyes to see Sunghoon’s expression, but it remains stoic.

Mavouvering himself around you, his hand swipes your back before grabbing your left hand and softly caressing it before leaning down to whisper, “Sorry, Sweets,” It’s a blink and you’ll miss it moment which you’re glad for as you see Minhee show no reaction. Sunghoon is far too lax about you both around your brother.

You watch him leave and his eyes go back to yours, showing you his begrudgement towards Minhee and also his regret towards putting you in an uncomfortable situation. You want to let it slide but Minhee didn’t deserve to be talked down to like that.

Then again, neither did Sunghoon.

“You need to learn to get along with him, Mini. You’re both making this whole arena toxic.” You say quietly, still staring at Sunghoon.

“But-”

“No buts, Minhee. Just ignore him,” You interject before he can hit you with an excuse as to why he needs to stand his ground or some bullshit like that.

As the tension eases, Minhee finally nods in reluctant agreement, his shoulders sagging with resignation. "Fine," he concedes, though his tone carries a hint of defiance, “But if he starts something-”

“Yeah, yeah,” You willingly dismiss him, “I’m going to go grab something from the vending machine, do you want one of those naked bars for when you’ve finished?” You ask, diverting the conversation from Sunghoon. Your mixed feelings towards the boy and situation are sitting too close to the surface that if Minhee kept poking at it, you might reveal something you don’t want to, or defend him a little too much to the point Minhee will get suspicious and start asking questions.

Minhee’s whole manner changes, “Yes, please! The orange one though,” He pats your shoulder, “I’ll see you when I’m finished, Bubs,” Pushing your head softly in brotherly affection, Minhee darts to the changing rooms, waving you off.

As he disappears, you walk back to the foyer and head for the vending machine. It’s not got much, healthy options for everything and no fun sweet treats for you but you don’t expect anything less considering you’re in a place that hosts athletes.

Punching in the numbers, you feel arms wrap around your waist, the warmth of Sunghoon's embrace sending a shiver down your spine, "What are we eating?" his voice, velvety smooth, whispers deliciously behind your ear, momentarily distracting you from the turmoil within.

"WE are not eating anything," you reply curtly, shrugging him off as you hit your bank card on the contactless machine to pay for the snack.

"Sweets, I'm sorry I said all that, your brother just pushes my buttons," Sunghoon's voice carries a note of sincerity, tinged with lingering anger. His apology hangs in the air, mingling with the hum of the vending machine and the soft rustle of people passing by.

You exhale slowly, "I appreciate the apology," you murmur, trying not to break, "But you can't keep lashing out like that, especially at Minhee."

Nodding, he grabs the snack as it falls from its shelf, handing it to you, “Let me make it up to you, yeah? After this do you want to grab a coffee…maybe come back to mine,” He leans down so his face is level with yours, “I’ll make it a real good apology.”

Swallowing hard, you try to stuff down the urge to pull him in and kiss him right there, especially as you see his tongue swipe along his bottom lip. Your eyes are hungry for more than anything in that vending machine could give him.

But this is your chance to put things back in their natural state.

Your chance to respect Minhee’s wishes.

“Look, yesterday was a mistake,” you turn back to the machine, feigning contemplation as you pretend to choose something for yourself.

Sunghoon's gaze burns into the side of your head, his eyes boring into you with an intensity that makes your skin prickle with discomfort. His confusion is palpable, evident in the furrow of his brow and the slight downturn of his lips, “You aren’t seriously that mad because I was a tiny bit mean to Minhee?”

Ignoring the fact that Sunghoon is slightly blind to his earlier hurtful words, downplaying it by saying he was a 'tiny bit mean', you shrug, "It was just a bit of fun, Sunghoon," you offer, your voice laced with forced nonchalance as you try to downplay the gravity of yesterday's events but even to your own ears, the words sound hollow, lacking conviction.

Sunghoon scoffs, his tongue running along the inside of his cheek in a gesture of frustration, “Yeah it was fun, so why can’t we have more fun?”

His persistence was annoying you a little but only because there’s only so long you can stare at the bottles on Lucozade Sport and swallow your true feelings, “There’s really no need to continue this, Sunghoon. It’s not like we like one another,” the words sting as they escape your lips.

You don’t see it but you can feel Sunghoon’s body buckle a little, unsure how to take your words, “You don’t like me because you genuinely don’t, or you’re so far up your brother’s ass you can’t see past disappointing him?”

Sunghoon regrets his choice of words as soon as they’re spoken. He knows how much you both mean to one another and how you value your relationship with him but he’s so frustrated that your brain is overworking itself into a tizzy rather than understanding how irrational you’re being by dismissing him so easily.

Little does he know you’re only following Minhee’s orders, making his accusation hurt just a little too deeply.

You aren’t scared of disappointing Minhee, you’re scared it’ll break your sibling bond altogether. It’s complicated, only you and your brother know the loyalty you both have to one another. You’re all each other has.

“Sunghoon,” you turn around to face him, “I’m not doing this for Minhee, I’m doing this because I want to.”

Lies.

If Minhee hadn’t caught you coming out of Sunghoon’s car and warned you not to start a relationship with him, you might have reacted completely differently. But now, with your brother’s words echoing in your mind like a haunting ghost, you feel trapped in a web of conflicting desires and obligations.

Exasperation rushes across Sunghoon's face, yet beneath his hard exterior is a touch of despair. He's trying to make hide how much this is hurting him.

Swallowing his sadness, he speaks, "Suit yourself," his voice sour and sorrowful, not doing a great job at convincing you he doesn't care, "But you know deep down you're making a mistake."

With that, he strides away, leaving you standing there, grappling with his words. Despite his outward composure, you know he's wounded.

Part of you longs to call out to him, to chase after him and erase the distance that now stretches between you, and the one you created because you know he’s right.

But another part, the part that listens to Minhee's cautionary words and heeds the warning in his eyes, holds you back, anchoring you to the spot with invisible chains.

This was good. This is what you should do. This is right. Minhee told you so, he’s protecting you, that’s what he said. Trust Minhee. You chant these sentences like a mantra in your head, trying oh so hard to convince yourself you haven’t made the wrong choice.

As Sunghoon disappears from view, you can't shake the feeling that you've lost something precious, something irreplaceable.

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kamiversee · 7 months

Text

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 20 || The Night of Regrets

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, alcohol consumption, angst, smut, & fluff. (!!Brief drunk sex warning!!)

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 4k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——AND OH HOW YOU HATE being alone like this. Especially because it wasn't just a one-day thing.

No, instead, Choso distances himself from you.

It hurts like hell too. His messages get drier, and he has an excuse for every time you try to hang out with him, and your calls go unanswered.

What a sweet form of torture it is to have your crush give you the same treatment you give your blackmailer. At some point, you think you wallow yourself in a self-isolating pit of pity.

Shoko thinks she hears less from you more than ever, Gojo still receives the same treatment as always, Geto tries to comfort you every now and then but it's no use, and Choso continues to set boundaries for you and him.

It gets pretty rough for you mentally after that.

How are you supposed to deal with being stripped of the company of the one man who sought to bring you joy? There were some nights you cried about it and some nights you took out that stupid journal with that stupid list and scribbled out every name there-- only to rewrite it back afterward.

Reluctantly, you ended up telling Gojo that you managed to sleep with Choso, to which he was quick to send you money. Getting paid was nice and all but the money felt meaningless when you no longer had Choso by your side.

What's another six thousand dollars when the guy you like won't even read your texts anymore?

The panging you get in your chest every time you think about it all is dizzying. After all, no matter how you think about it, none of it is your fault.

Sure, you could've had your bedroom door closed that day Gojo walked in but... would such a small change have made any difference to your situation? The man could've still recorded you. Hell, knowing him, he probably would've.

You hate him so much.

You wish you knew how to express just how deep your hate for him goes but it's difficult to do so as he tries to make up for his wrongdoings.

Every notification from Gojo never fails to piss you off but it gets one hundred percent worse when you no longer have Choso around. Not being able to get with the man you like is obviously Gojo's fault so anything from that man reminds you of the situation and you get upset all over again.

This leads to one night full of mistakes, regrets, and... surprises.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

What started your unfortunate night was a final text from Choso that consisted of him explaining that it's hard to talk to you because of how he feels about you.

It was a long paragraph that explained how every time he talks to you, he wants to express his feelings more and more, which ultimately makes it difficult for him to communicate with you because it hurts to know that he's not yours and you're not his. Very explicitly, Choso basically says he doesn't want you to text him anymore.

He wasn't rude about it or anything; even making sure to carefully request such a thing in kind consideration of your feelings. Though, that didn't change how much it hurt.

Choso was your way out, your slim form of freedom. And yet, you lost it.

Where does this lead you? To a bar.

Was heading there the best decision in the world? Probably not. Did you care? Not one bit.

You needed something to relieve your stress, something to take this weight off your shoulders, even if only for one night. So there you sat, swallowing down drink after drink after drink in hopes of washing away all the pain you felt.

Does the sting of liquor down your throat and warmth over your body help you feel any better? For a moment, yes.

It was like all the voices in your head stopped screaming for just a second. No longer were you cursing yourself out for every mistake you've made leading up to now and no longer did you think of all the terrible things happening to you right now.

Instead, you felt just a slither of peace again. The sounds of laughter and soft clicks filled your ears as you calmed your brain, sinking into a tipsy state.

After swishing down your nth drink of the night, you found yourself feeling incredibly good. Almost too good, honestly. Not only was your body warm and your mind at ease but, there was this annoying pulse spurring in between your legs.

The only downfall of you drinking your sorrows away was that you happen to be one of the most unfortunate forms of drunk. Not any angry drunk, silly drunk, or sad drunk but, a horny one. And terribly at that.

The feeling is frustrating actually. It'd been a while since you last went out for a drink and you almost forgot how ridiculously horny you get after some time. The throbbing you feel is so very annoying, especially when all you can do is mentally replay events with Choso.

The man has actually made you squirt more than once. And every time it was because he was giving you head. You recall riding his face once, as per his begging request, and at this moment all you can remember was the way he looked at you and that damn tongue of his lapping at your cunt.

Just thinking about it again makes you dizzy, your stomach churning as you remember it all. His deep guttural groans and pretty whines still echo throughout your mind.

Then there's the way he fucked you-- the feeling of his cock hitting all the right places inside you, making you cry out his name for hours on end, and his praising words... it all haunts your mind.

Shit, now you're really horny. You wish you could call him. If he wasn't upset with you, you'd definitely call him right about now. You're so worked up that you could probably get off on just the sound of his voice right now.

A sigh leaves your lips as you realize you can't even call him. God, you miss him so much and it hasn't even been that long since the last time you saw him.

With a frown on your face, you move to rest your cheek against your knuckles, holding your head up with your hand.

"Y'know, the last thing I expected to find today was a wonderful piece of ass sitting at this bar with a frown on her face," A sudden voice to your left points out.

You physically revolt against the man's words to you. You don't even spare the male a glance in response to his comment, acting as though you didn't hear him.

A sudden god awfully strong collonge seeps into your nose, the smell clearly expensive but unpleasant nonetheless. Then, in your peripherals, you notice this male leaning toward you.

"Oi, I know you heard me." He pesters.

With a groan, you cut your eyes over to him, eyelids rising at the sight. Just your fucking luck, you managed to run into Naoya at the bar and he's absolutely disgusting. Well, at least every time he opens his mouth.

His face on the other hand makes up for it, to some extent. Your gaze is met with sharp brown irises from the male who just spoke.

Your upper lip twitches as you scrunch your face up at him, disgusted by his words to you. "I wasn't aware you were speaking to me." You hum plainly, glancing away from him.

He scoffs, "I cannot stand women who lie."

"That's wonderful but, I don't remember asking." You comment, your tone cold.

The arrogant man tuts, "And she's rude too? Hah, juuust my luck."

Slowly, you force yourself to turn your head to him, your gaze void of emotion. "If all you came over here to do is foolishly run your mouth, I suggest you fuck off because I'm not in the mood." You say to him.

The corner of his lips pulls into a smirk. Damn the way it resembles Toji most weirdly. "What are you in the mood for then, dollface?" Naoya questions.

Ugh, you cringe at his question. He's so very lucky that you have a list to complete because that's the only reason you're tolerating him right now.

"Truthfully? Mindless sex." You blurt out. It's very obvious that you're drunk by this point because the sober version of you would've never uttered such a thing, especially not to this asshole.

A haughty grin spreads across his visibly handsome features and dyed blonde hair with deep dark green roots sways whilst he tilts his head. "Well, then you're in luck. I happen to be an expert at that." Naoya tells you with a wink.

God, you hate everything about his personality already.

"Is that so?" You ask dryly.

"Yeah," He responds, clicking his tongue, "Maybe if you're good enough I'll show you."

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Instead, you slide out of the barstool you sat at and-- oh. He's taller than you expected him to be. Even so, you blink away the realization and simply sigh at his words.

"If I'm good enough? Please." You reply, "How about this, since I'm not in the mood to argue with you and make you feel small, I'll give you two options."

His brows push together, "Make me feel small? Excuse me-"

"You can either fuck me or fuck off." You interrupt coldly. Beneath your drunken state, you wish he'd fuck off and magically disappear from the list but unfortunately, that's not going to happen.

Naoya stammers for a moment in reaction to your straightforward words. After a second of collecting himself, he shrugs, "Well..." He chuckles, "How can I say no when you give yourself up to me so easily?"

Another sigh leaves you, "Right..." You say, finally allowing your eyes to roll before you grab a rough hold of his shirt and begin to drag him away from the bar.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The whole thing is a mess.

For your first time having drunk sex in the bathroom at a bar like the true whore you've unwillingly become, it wasn't completely terrible.

Naoya may have a disgustingly offputting way with words but, he's not that bad as fucking you against the wall. Your chest and face are pressed into the cold bathroom wall as the man sloppily rutted into you from behind.

This was most definitely your lowest moment yet. The sex was so... vanilla. Naoya lacked foreplay in every way possible that you're pretty sure he doesn't even know what it is. Half of your moans were fake because there were only a few times when you felt the tip of his cock kiss that sweet spot inside you.

His thrusts were too fast and not in a pleasurable way but in a way that made you want to scoff. Naoya was pale in comparison to the past men you've been with. The only thing saving him was the size of his dick and the fact that you were already horny.

If not for those two factors, this whole thing would've been terrible. He tried dirty talk but it all went through one ear and out the other due to how terrible it was. To make up for that, you can't deny the fact that his grunts and groans turned you on.

"Aagh, fuck." Naoya would groan, his voice near your ear and causing your cunt to flutter around him.

There wasn't much else that he did that fueled your arousal though. You were mainly getting off on the sounds of sex and the few times he thrust into you at the proper angle. That aside, to even come close to an orgasm, you had to imagine you were with someone else.

It's sad but, at least the man's name would be checked off the list after this.

A single orgasm was building up within you the very second you imagined it was Choso with you. You could practically hear the way he'd moan into your ear, begging you to cum around his cock and make a mess of him.

The thought alone made your eyes roll back and you were so close. Then, to the least of your expectations, Naoya selfishly pulled out of you, leaving you high and dry.

Your brows furrowed quickly as you panted against the wall. With a loud grunt that fills the bathroom, Naoya cums embarrassingly onto the floor. You have to bat your eyelashes as you gather what the hell this man just did.

Surely he's not done... right?

To your disappointment, he is. The sound of Naoya fixing himself with not even a word uttered to you can be heard, his hands working his member back into his pants before he moves to wash his hands.

You blink in slow motion, pushing yourself off the wall and standing on legs that are also trying to process what just happened. You'd just been denied an orgasm completely.

You scoff, "Is this a joke...?"

Naoya raises his brows, "Is what a joke? You've fulfilled your purpose, you can go now." He dismisses.

And that does it for you. Annoyed, you move to hike your underwear back up your legs and then tug your dress down into place, feeling absolutely disgusted with what just occurred.

"You..." Another scoff exits your mouth, "You asshole..."

The man chuckles at your claim before heading toward the bathroom door, "I've heard worse." He hums, winking at you, "And hey, for what it's worth, you have good pussy." He... compliments?

You send the man a dumbfounded look. Is he for real right now? Like, is he so fucking for real right now??

"You could probably make lots of money off it, honestly," Naoya comments one last time before opening the door and leaving.

Your skin is crawling with an overwhelming feeling of disgust. Never in your life have you felt so utterly used. This feeling is worse than what Gojo's put you through. You're ashamed you even let that dickhead of a man put his dick inside you.

You shudder at what you just did, a permanent scowl stuck to your face. This is worse than when you thought Choso left you. Hell, you'd prefer that a million times over what that misogynistic fuckface just said and did to you.

After gathering yourself and making sure you don't look like a complete mess, you are about to leave the bathroom when the nasty mess he left on the floor catches your eye. Even drunk, you didn't have it in you to leave such indecency on the floor.

So, you were quick to grab paper towels and clean it up, saving the janitor who'd later have to come in there from doing so.

After that, you toss the paper towel into the trash and stumble out of the bathroom. With everything you just experienced, another round of drinks is screaming your name. There's absolutely no way you're going to allow yourself to sober up after that.

So, you make your way back over to the bar and return to your previous activities, now feeling so unsatisfied and unhappy with everything.

Every drink you swallow down merely provides you with a temporary moment of satisfaction. The second you feel that the excessive drinking isn't working, you feel sad all over again, just like how you did when you first entered the bar.

You wanted to cry and scream at the same time. Your head was spinning and your vision began to blur a little, terrible feelings bubbling up inside you as your regret washed over you faster than the alcohol washed down your throat.

When your eyes grew teary, you were quick to scramble for your phone. If not anything else, the one thing you could use right now is either a good fuck that'd make you stop thinking or, someone who can give you genuine advice so that you don't feel so shitty anymore.

And who can provide either of those things for you? Well, none other than Geto Suguru himself.

Your thumb swiped through your recent calls, hazily spotting his contact and calling him. The phone rings for barely even a second, the call connecting as soon as you lift the device to your ear.

"Hello?" The man's voice rings through your ears, making you smile ever so slightly.

You swallow, "Hi Sugu..." Your words are so obviously slurred to anyone listening.

There's a second of silence before he responds, "Hey, you alright?"

"N-No..." You hum, "Can you uhm... C-Come pick me up?" You suddenly whisper drunkenly.

You hear a sigh then some shuffling, "Where are you?" He asks.

You giggle, "The bar."

There's another pause. Then, you hear him sigh again, "What bar, sweetheart?"

"I'll send you the uhm... the uh..." Your brain suddenly freezes as you search for your words.

He makes up for you, "Address...?"

"Yeah, yes. That." You say quickly.

A slight chuckle is heard over the phone, "Alright, send me the address, sweets. I'll be there soon."

"M'kayy," You hum as you move to send him the address.

You end up simply sending your location but you were too drunk to see the difference, not that it mattered. As the message is sent, an amused chuckle is heard over the phone.

You furrow your brows, bringing the cell back to your ear, "What's so funny?"

"What're you doin' all the way across town, love?" He asks in return, finding it humorous.

You pout, "I dunno, can't remember why I came all the way-," You burp slightly, "Out here."

You can't see it but the male shakes his head, "I see. Are you drunk?" He asks, tone concerned.

You smile, "Mayyybe."

"Maybe? Yes or no, sweetheart."

"Yeah, kinda." You sigh.

He hums and you can hear soft car noises in the background, "And I assume you're alone...?"

"Mhm."

"Why?"

"Didn't wanna bother Shoko with my..." You sigh heavily, "My problems."

"Did something happen?" The man questions, "Why would you go out drinking alone?"

"I dunno Sugu, I just need to drink away my problems, y'know?"

"You could've done that with..." He trails off for a second before finishing, "With me."

You yawn, "Yeah, I could've..." Your words come out lower and the man over the phone can tell you're growing drowsy.

"Are you fallin' asleep on me over there?" He asks, chuckling slightly but clearly nervously.

You move to lay your head down on the bar, just barely holding your hold up against your ear, "Mhm."

The sound of him sighing is heard, "Need you to stay awake for me, sweetheart."

"Sugu..." You mumble tiredly, "Why do you keep calling me that?"

There's a sudden silence over the phone.

A throb pains your head and you wince at the abrupt feeling. "S-Suguru?" You call out, your voice revealing your pained state.

"Y-Yeah?" He responds.

"You didn't answer my question..."

"I know." He states, "Are you okay over there? You sound hurt? What's wrong? Talk to me please." The male rambles, clearly panicked by the sound of your voice.

The most he knows is that you're at some bar alone and drunk so to hear you in pain has his heart worried in more ways than one.

You struggle to respond to him as you steadily slip from consciousness.

"Fuck, c'mon, don't fall asleep on me." He urges, his voice anxious.

"M-Mhm..." You mumble.

"Sweetheart, listen to the sound of my voice okay? I can't have you pass out before I get there."

You groan a little, "...Okay."

He smiles at your reply, "Keep yourself awake by talking to me, tell me about your day."

"M-My day?" You frown, "It was shitty..."

"S'that why you went out for a drink? You had a bad day?" The way his voice has gone all soft makes your heart throb for some reason.

Your eyes get teary all of a sudden, "Y-Yeah."

"Tell me what happened." He requests, "You can do that, right?"

"Uhuh..." You agree.

"Good girl," The male praises, his words giving you encouragement. "C'mon, tell me what happened."

"Well..." You steadily begin to explain the events of your day.

From how normal it was to how Choso's single text ruined your mood and then to the terrible sex you just had, you explain everything over the phone with a slur to your words every now and then. Your explanation comes out slowly since you're fighting sleep but you get through it.

"Then I..." You exhale softly, "Then I called you."

"I see." He hums, "Well, I'm right around the corner so keep your eyes open til' I get there."

"No promises." You say with a chuckle.

"Not funny, sweets. I need you awake." He replies sternly.

You groan, "Whyyy do you keep calling me thaaaat?" You whine.

Again, there's no response to your question.

"I'm gonna hang up on you, Suguru." The chances of you doing so are unlikely but you are seconds away from falling asleep.

"You better not." He says.

"Then tell me why..." Your voice fades out as your eyes shut comfortably. Mentally, you got your question out but realistically, your sentence trailed off.

Distorted sounds of your name being called are heard in your ear but second after second, the sounds fade away and blissful white noise engulfs you.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Your sleeping frame is spotted by the man you called as soon as he enters the bar minutes later, his heart rate all over the place. Quick and long strides are made to approach your resting body and hands fly to your face, lifting your head from the cold and dirty bar to get a good look at you.

Even through your sleep, you're pretty sure you hear a familiar voice whisper to you, "What am I gonna do with you?"

Those same hands move from your face and to under your legs and behind your back. Your limp body is lifted from your seat bridal-style and your head relaxes against a lean chest.

The slap of brisk fresh air causes you to stir awake for only a moment. Your eyes flutter open and the smell of cologne is in your nose, the scent almost... nostalgic? It quickly makes you think of Gojo for some strange reason.

"Suguru?" You croak out.

The male holding you is quick to look down at you, his eyes filled with worry. "Sweetheart, you gave me quite a scare," He says softly, his voice making your brows furrow. "Are you okay?"

You groan and rub your temples, feeling the remnants of a pounding headache. "Not... really," You admit, your voice still slurred from the alcohol. "And why do you..."

You end up trailing off as you shift your gaze upwards to the face of the person holding you right now. The question gets stuck in your throat while you eye the man's face.

Soft blue eyes are peering lowly at your drunken expression, a firm pair of slender hands carrying you as if you weigh nothing, ruffled white hair bright enough to blind someone and a face that's all too angelic for the hate you hold for it.

After a gulp, you bat your eyelashes and squint, wondering if you're seeing things. "Gojo?" You whisper softly.

A beautifully broken smile is given to you along with the sound of a shaky yet relieved sigh, "Yeah?"

You pout, "Why are you here...?"

"Well, love," His voice is gentle, "When you call..." He leans just a little bit closer to you, "...I come running."

GOJO SATORU ✔︎

GETO SUGURU ✔︎

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎

NANAMI KENTO ☐

??? SUKUNA ☐

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

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pinkisthenewangst · 2 months

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°`🍨: Kei Tsukishima + First Years x GN! Reader

°`🍨: Being a bet hurt so damn much

You knew boys were dumb with their stupid puberty that makes them go crazy. You knew from the beginning that first year high school will probably feel and also end like middle school all over again but you still felt disappointed. Disappointed to actually believe that it will not happen again and to fell for a tall, handsome and surprisingly intelligent boy until someone tries to attack his ego. You should have known that suddenly getting friends and being confessed to was too perfect for your boring and lonely life.

Realizing that was when you stand beside the clubroom door of the volleyball team. Silently listening to the boys, who talked while changing to their sport outfits. You didn't want to eavesdrop but when you heard your name, you couldn't stop listening. Clutching the straps of your bag in your hand. Biting on your trembling lips while blinking away your tears. Placing the fabric of Tsukishimas Jacket to your mouth so you wouldn't accidentally let out a sob. Doing all of this just to hear that everything was a lie. Being friends with you out of pity. Your relationship only being a bet. It hurt so damn much. "Oi Tsukishima ! How does the lover boy feel to almost reach the third month of your relationship ~?", you heard Tanaka's booming voice through the door. Then it was silent for a short moment until the tall one answered: "Made me realize that relationships robbing me from my precious time and I can't wait to be free, but seeing your faces when you lose is actually worth it". Ouch. Being a bet wasn't something new to you and he knew it. He was the one that told you about it in middle school and now he does the same. You heard more chaotic screaming and laughing, not really able to believe that all the first year knew about it and also the second years you saw as reliable senpais. You then also heard Kageyama talk: "I'm not good with people like her, it feels suffocating to even just stand beside her." Then Hinata continued: "At least she isn't boring!". It hurt so damn much. Not able to listen anymore, you slowly walk down the stairs. Walking past the third years that greeted you happily but you only gave them a nod and a small bow before you started to sprint so they couldn't see the tears in your eyes. You knew boys were stupid but you were also dumb for thinking it would get better. You wished the world would just swallow you whole to stop your suffering.

It felt weird. Eating alone after having finally some people to talk to about hobbies and homework. It also felt rude to just run and ignore them when they tried to talk to you. But you were so hurt and unable to trust them anymore. Not knowing what was a lie, a bet or the truth made your heart crumble in your chest. Seeing them look confused also fed the guilt in your stomach. You should be a better friend. Less boring, less annoying and more how they wanted you to be but this was not possible. Changing took a lot of energy that you didn't have. All the joy you felt until this tragic day, left you completely. Only an empty feeling remained. Looking at Tsukishima from far away didn't make your heart beat faster anymore, it only brought tear to your eyes. Seeing the chaotic duo of Hinata and Kageyama only made it hard to speak without your voice cracking. Feeling the hand of Yamaguchi on your shoulder when he tried to give you something back, made you tense and stiff. Walking through the school made you fear that everyone knew how stupid you were to fall for this bet and how they would start to laugh at your suffering. It took Nishinoya by surprise when you jumped out of your skin when he greeted you at the entrance of the school and how fast you ended your conversation when it sometimes went on until he needed to run to his class. Ah they suddenly started to feel it. The empty place since you weren't there anymore. It even bugged Tsukishima more when he didn't get any answers from you after he messaged you. It also started to hurt. Made his heart sting seeing you not looking at him anymore. His fist shook beside him seeing you smile at Sugawara but something like sadness took over his feelings when your face dropped to a neutral expression when the third year disappeared. Something wasn't right but he didn't know how to fix it. In the first time of his life, he felt heartbroken and unable to decide what to do. How unfortunate that everyone around you and him were just so stupid and dumb.

°`🍨: Tadaaaa ~ Another one but it's not really Tsukishima focused but it also is 🤔

°`🍨: REQUESTS ARE OPEN until 25th of Aug.

#haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #kei tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima angst

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ethereal-night-fairy · 6 months

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Broken Vows and Promises

*Bzzt*

Upon hearing your favourite ringtone your hands quickly snatched the phone on your vanity. Heat rushes to your face, your hands trembling as they open the message you received from your love. Butterflies erupted everywhere while your heart hammered against your ribcage in anticipation. He's arrived home. He's finally home!

Suds🧼: Arrivin at the bar soon hen. Ah can't wait tae see ye. Wear somethin nice. I've something important tae ask ye.

If you thought your heart was hammering before it's practically breaking through your chest now. You put down the phone after replying, finding it very hard to contain your excitement as you squeal with joy. You place your hands over your heart trying to calm down so you can continue getting ready. You were almost done anyways, just needed to apply his favourite lipstick. You were also wearing his favourite dress. A classy backless number, one he often enjoyed groping you through.

It's been far too long since you've seen him. He's been so quiet lately, it made you doubt if he still wanted to be with you. But that was just your insecurity worming its way through your brain. His absence was due to the nature of his missions. You couldn't hold that against him. Not when he was working so hard to keep the world safe. He's been more stressed since he joined a taskforce the year prior. But he's proud how far he's come since joining the military at 16. You were so proud of him too. He was your everything. Your first kiss, your first date, your first time… You gaze lovingly at the promise ring on your ring finger, the one he gifted to you before joining the military. It wasn't the most expensive or extravagant ring in the world but it meant everything to you. You never wanted to part with it.

You reminisce as you gather your essentials, still giddy from excitement. All the beautiful memories of your childhood with him coming back to warm your heart. The bike rides down hills, the sneaking into each other's room at night, the Saturday evenings spent at the lake. All beautiful moments you cherished greatly.

You're at the door just about to leave when another notification rings out. You roll your eyes thinking it's Johnny telling you to come soon. Your stomach flustered at the thought of what was about to happen. Your heart felt so full of love you couldn't control your excited jitters. You glance at the promise ring one last time before opening your phone, still giddy with butterflies.

But it isn't Soap unfortunately. It's your friend Freya. She sent a photo attachment. You laugh, she had a tendency to spam you with memes at odd hours of the day. You press on her name expecting to see another stupid work meme…

But that isn't what your eyes are greeted with…

Your throat seizes, air refusing to enter your lungs. Your body immediately loses all its warmth and your left standing there in shock as your heart shatters into a million pieces. It was your Johnny, Your Suds… His hands were on a man's thigh. A very tall bulky man with a mask pulled down slightly. Who was that? Why were they so close? No calm down, there must be a logical explanation. You take in a shaky breath trying to laugh off what you were witnessing. He's probably just had too much to drink.

Two more pings ring out signalling more messages. More images burn into your retina. Images you wish never existed. Images you wished were fabricated. This must be a cruel joke. The more you looked at the images the more you felt the shards of your heart piercing you. What with all the touching? A final notification pings with a flurry of texts that follow a minute later. Your heart sank into the pits of hell…Your Johnny…his lips…his lips were kissing someone else…You don't get much time to look as a plethora of texts push the wretched image away.

You're frozen, unable to think or move…Your body trembles from the ice coursing through you, your blood runs cold from heartache. You're left staring at the phone as messages and messages pour in. But you don't know what to do, where to look or how to feel. You don't even realise when tears start to obstruct your vision. You collapse as a devastated sob shakes you to your core. Why would he do this to you?

You clutch the phone as you bring it to your chest. Your cries ring out through the apartment as your phone continues to ping but you're too weak, too fragile to respond or look at anything right now. Your mind reels with questions you don't have answers to. Why was this happening? How long? How long has he been cheating on you? Did he ever love you? Was everything a lie? Why now? You continue to cry out trying to alleviate this raw pain.

Your phone begins buzzing, jolting you from your sad thoughts. You look down to hope it's Freya, your saving grace in this awful situation. You wanted her to come hold you. You didn't want to fall apart alone. But no it isn't her…Rather it's his name and it burns your eyes like venom.

Incoming call: Suds🧼

This was inspired by @s-coquette two shot fic called Three's a crowd. Go check out their amazing writing! Thanks for letting me use your fic as inspiration.

Masterlist

Dividers by @cafekitsune

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jjngkook7 · 6 months

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Choices (7)

Werewolf Au! Jungkook x Reader / Enemies to Lovers [Angst and mature content. Not smut but almost smut.]

Summary: Jungkook finally found her. His mate. His lifelong partner. But she’s a human. Does he have to stay with her or can he stick it to whatever and whoever binds mates together and make his own decision?

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6

You groaned as you finally shut off your alarm. After hitting the snooze button four times, you only had 30 minutes to get ready for work. As you dragged yourself out of bed and into your washroom, you thought about your dream last night. It was still a nightmare but not as gruesome as it usually was. Entering your washroom, you grimaced at the person staring back at you in the mirror. Your eyebags were heavy and your skin flat and colorless. Due to your inability to get up on time, you could only afford to wash your face and brush your hair if you wanted to at least have a coffee before work. Oh, the joys of Monday’s.

It seemed like your morning really set a precedent on how the rest of your day was going to be. You were 15 minutes late to work because of traffic, you forgot about a meeting that you set up and lunch was a bag of chips because you forgot your wallet at home. Needing to leave the chaos of the office, you decided to eat your sad lunch at a park. You ignored how cold your bottom was getting against the park bench as you watched the people around you go about their day.

“Rough day at the office?” an all too familiar voice asked.

You looked up and locked eyes with Jungkook. Great, now I'm hallucinating. If having visions of Jungkook wasn’t bad enough already, he looked better than you remembered. His hair was a little longer now and his eyes bright amber.

“Hello?” Jungkook waved his hand in front of you.

You reached out and grabbed his hand. A jolt of electricity shoots through you.

“Oh you are real…oh my god! You’re-what are you doing here?!” it felt like you had just went through all five stages of grief in a nanosecond.

Jungkook watched in real time as the sleep vanishes from your eyes. He waits for you to collect yourself before taking a seat next to you on the bench. His body shivered not from the cold but from the sudden energy radiating between both of you. After being away for so long, he forgot just how strong the pull of a mate was.

“Aren't you cold?” you asked bewildered by how he was only in a long sleeve and jeans.

Jungkook wanted to laugh. He knew you were probably freezing from how pale your fingers were. He also noticed the tiredness on your face and wondered if you had been sleeping at all.

“How long do you have left for your lunch break?” he asked, ignoring your question.

“20 minutes.” you replied.

Jungkook nods and quickly tried to figure out how to tell you that your life was in danger and that the only way to save you was to live with him for a bit and let him mark you.

“I think we’re going to need more than 20 minutes,” he says.

Jungkook was able to explain the situation to you within 20 minutes, leaving out the part where he had to mark you. The argument that happened afterwards lasted 30 minutes. You couldn’t just move to the mountains when you had a job to show up to and who was going to pay rent for the unit you were already living in? In the same breath, Jungkook explained that it was dangerous to live so close to civilization in case there was an attack and shared how much he didn’t want to live with you.

“Do you not hear the absurdity of what you’re asking me to do?” you argued.

“Do you think I want to do this?” Jungkook sneered.

“Then don’t!” you exclaimed.

“Fine!” he shouted, matching the volume of your voice.

“Fine!” you shouted back before marching back to your office, your bag of chips forgotten on the bench.

__________________________________

Jungkook adjusted his cap as he waited for you to leave your house. He rolled his eyes when he heard your alarm ring for the third time signifying that you had no intention of getting up. You’re going to be late again idiot.

After your guys’ encounter at the park, Namjoon reamed Jungkook out for being stubborn and doing the exact opposite of what he was supposed to do. They came up with a compromise that Jungkook hated even more than the original plan. Night and day, Jungkook would essentially watch you from afar in case a rogue decided to attack. He’d follow you to work, to the grocery store and home. At night, Jungkook would make rounds around your neighborhood until late and then head back to his own home before repeating it all again the next day. Before he knew it, Jungkook's life revolved around you now.

“One more snooze and you would’ve been screwed.” Jungkook grinned when you opened the door.

Biting your tongue, you locked the front door before making your way past him. You were already running on a couple hours of sleep and seeing Jungkook’s shit eating grin this early in the morning made you want to scream. Unbeknownst to Jungkook, your sleep schedule had gotten worse now that you knew your life was at risk. If you were lucky, you’d only wake up twice in the night. Despite the lack of privacy, knowing that Jungkook was around just in case anything happened did give you some sort of reassurance. You’d never admit it to anyone, but you kind of liked having him around. Sure, he’d make your anger spike anytime he spoke but his presence added some excitement to your daily mundane routine. When you were out and about, you’d try to spot him in a crowd like a game of “Where’s Waldo”. It was getting harder for Jungkook to hide his amusement anytime you would find him because when you did, you’d stick out your tongue at him. He did noticed that you continued to look more and more tired than before. He had wondered what was causing you so much stress but pushed the thought away because that wasn’t part of the job description.

As you stood in front of your office building, you turned your head to see where Jungkook was. Scanning through the crowd of people on their way to work, you finally locked eyes with him and inhaled sharply. It was always a sensation overload whenever you looked at him because his amber eyes would pierce right through you. After the initial shock, a smile crept onto your face. Jungkook was trying to keep a low profile with his all black outfit and baseball cap but he didn’t realize how much he stood out like a sore thumb. Everyone bustling through were clad in thick winter coats and layers upon layers just to keep warm yet there he was standing at the end of the block with nothing but a black flannel button up and jeans. With one more glance, you made your way into your building excited to see him again later. Once you were out of sight, Jungkook immediately made a quick dash back to your house. Last night, Jungkook picked up the faintest scent of a rogue, but this morning the smell strong and near.

As he approached your home, he slowed down and tried to process what he was smelling and sensing carefully. Fortunately, he only picked up the scent of one rogue but the claw marks on the side of your house and fresh tracks in the snow meant that Jungkook was a little too late.

Usually, Jungkook kept his distance when he would follow you around but something must’ve happened between the morning and now because he was walking right beside you. It wasn’t the brushing of your bodies when you bumped into each other that formed the butterflies in your stomach but his hand on your lower back leading you home that did it. Jungkook kept you almost right up against him and you felt embarrassed for relishing in both his touch and smell. It was concerning how much you didn’t care about your safety when being this close to him felt so good. On the flipside, Jungkook could not afford to have his attention waver for even a second. He had to somehow cut through all the sounds and smells of the city just to pick up a stray whiff of any rogues. Jungkook was glad to have his attention focused elsewhere than on how your body was reacting to him. If he thought about it too much, his ego would grow too large for him to handle. You were usually so difficult to deal with and so stubborn but all he had was one hand on your lower back and you were compliant to his every word. Would you still be such a pain in the ass if you were under him? Could you possibly talk back if you were writhing from his touch? And what could you possibly say when he’s shoved down your throat?

“Do not open the door unless it’s me.” Jungkook ordered before pushing you into your house and slamming the door shut.

You take a moment to calm your heart. All you could think about was how his hand eventually wrapped around your waist and how strong his grip was. Once the high wore off, you dragged yourself upstairs to get ready for your night feeling less scared than you should. If Jungkook could muster through his hatred for you to keep you safe on the way home, you knew that you were in good hands.

You stirred awake and checked the time on your phone. 2:05am. You plopped your head back onto your pillow and tried to get back to sleep. You tried to still your mind but the heavy pitter patter against your window made it hard to do. Guess I'm awake now. Luckily, you didn't have work tomorrow so you and your insomnia could be friends for a night. You sat up and ran a hand through your hair as you stared out the window. You wondered if Jungkook was still outside or if he went home. If he was still here, he'd be soaked to the bone. Do werewolves catch colds? Putting on your slippers, you made your way to the front door and opened it. You scanned the driveway and sidewalk but with how heavy the rain was falling, it was hard to see. You took a step outside to see if he was around the corner but before you could turn your head, Jungkook himself appeared from the other side of where you were looking.

"I thought I told you not to open this door." he sighed annoyingly.

You felt your throat go dry when you saw him. He was dripping from head to toe and you envied the way his shirt clung onto his body.

"It's raining really hard and I didn't know if you were still outside." you said after prying your eyes away from his body.

"I told you to keep the door closed unless it's for me." he argued.

"Yeah well it is for you because I wanted to check up on you, god." you bite back. Jungkook had such a sour attitude but he truly was such a sight for your sore tired eyes.

You look over his shoulder and see that the rain was pouring even harder with no plans to stop. Had he just been patrolling your place since you finished work? Supernatural or not, Jungkook shouldn't be standing around in this weather.

"You should come in and rest." you said, after much consideration.

Jungkook immediately shook his head and backed away from you, "Why would I do that?"

"Because you're soaking wet! And besides, you've been roaming around for hours and if my neighbours get suspicious they might call the cops." you challenged.

Jungkook falls silent and you see his eyes shift from side to side, trying to look for something that wasn't there.

"Jungkook you've been out here since I got home. Whatever's out there would've gotten you by now. Please, just come inside and dry off for a little bit," you plead, "I won't be able to sleep knowing you're just out in the rain for no reason."

I'm out here for you. You're the fucking reason. Jungkook chewed the inside of his cheeks in thought. The invitation was tempting. He was absolutely exhausted and after staring at the dark day in and day out, his mind was starting to play tricks on him. Protecting you was one thing but his pride was bruised. All he did for the past few hours was ruminate on how he didn't see or smell the rogue. He wanted to crush the thing and kill it with his bare hands to make up for his inattentiveness, but he was tired. You took his silence as compliance and stepped aside so he could come in. Before Jungkook could mentally brace himself, the overwhelming smell of you sent his senses into overdrive. He placed a hand against the wall and took deep breaths. Every time he inhaled, it felt like his brain was going to pop out of his skull. The lights were too bright, the sound of the rain too loud and your scent was so strong he could almost taste you.

"Are you okay...?" you asked as you slowly closed the door.

Jungkook's back and the tension throughout his body brought you back to when you found him in that abandoned shed. You mentally cursed wondering if tonight was going to be another repeat. To your surprise, Jungkook managed to compose himself and turned around to face you. From how his usual amber eyes were now maroon, you knew he still wasn't quite back.

"W-where is your washroom? I'm going to clean up." he asked, his voice strained.

You direct him to your washroom and watch as he staggered away. When you heard the sink turn on, you quickly ran to your room to grab what you could to prepare the sofa for him. As you searched through your closet for an extra blanket, it quickly dawned on you that Jungkook was in your house and was going to stay the night. Suddenly, you were hyper aware of all the embarrassing things you owned. When you finally found your extra blanket, you suppressed a groan at the Sanrio characters decorating the duvet. He's here to rest not judge your choice of home decor. You grab a pillow from your bed and made your way back to the living room. As you were setting up the couch, you noticed the mess of cups and candy wrappers on the coffee table. If you knew that you would house a werewolf that was supposedly your soulmate, you would've cleaned up a bit more. Pushing the thought away, you made your way towards the bathroom where Jungkook hadn't made a sound. He's not dead is he? You took a deep breath before bravely poking your head through the door to check on him. The sight before you literally stole the inhale you had just taken away. You had imagined Jungkook shirtless many times before but your imagination was truly nothing compared to what he looked like in real life. Jungkook was leaned over the sink, his wet shirt by his feet as he wiped his chest with your towel with one hand. Every time he brushed his hand against his body, the muscles in his arms flexed. The raindrops cascading down the curves of his shoulder blades and back polluted your mind with lewd scenarios.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer." Jungkook scoffed.

You mumbled a pathetic apology as your eyes continued trailing down his body. The deep gash on his arm reeled you out of your perverted psyche. Without thinking, you quickly approached him and inspected his wound.

"Jungkook, you need to go to the hospital." you gasp at how torn up his arm looked.

"Please." Jungkook almost laughed.

You shoot him a look and push him aside to grab the first aid kit under the sink. Jungkook watched in amusement as you rummaged through your kit to find something to treat his wound. You seemed to forget that he was not of this world. This injury would heal in a week and a bandaid was not going to help.

"Give me you arm." you demanded setting a tube of polysporin and bandage wraps on the counter.

Jungkook raised his brow, "Are you going to make me a bowl of chicken noodle soup and put on my favourite cartoon as well?"

How this asshole was your soulmate was beyond you by how quickly he was able to bring you to anger within seconds. Jungkook could hate you all he wanted, but he didn't have to make you feel useless while doing so. For the past week and a half, he was literally supervising you like you were a child and it made you feel so foolish.

"Can you just let me do something for once? Just let me-" you exhaled with closed eyes, "let me feel like I'm helping for once."

Jungkook let out a sarcastic "ok" and surrendered his arm to you. You unscrewed the cap from the polysporin and wanted to kick yourself for dropping it during the process. It was really hard to focus when he was staring at you in his shirtless glory. Ignoring the fallen cap, you pushed out the ointment onto your finger and reached for his arm. The jolt you usually received whenever you guys touched made you flinch.

"You're okay." Jungkook encouraged after feeling the power from the shock himself.

Biting your lower lip, you gently grabbed his arm again and waited a few seconds for the sensation to pass before rubbing the medicine onto his cut. Jungkook watched are you carefully tended to him. In his absorption of your actions, he couldn't feel the corner of his lip turning upwards and the silencing of his mind. All he could hear was your breathing and if he focused a little more, the fluttering of your eyelashes as you blinked. It was endearing watching you meticulously layer the bandage perfectly on his arm. The treatment you were giving Jungkook was going to do absolutely nothing for him besides make him itchy. His species didn't heal like humans. They were able to heal on their own and if they were mated, their healing time was even quicker. You released the bite you had on your lower lip once you successfully wrapped him up.

"I'll let you do your own thing now," you laughed awkwardly stepping away from him, "There are extra towels under the sink and the sofa is all set up for you."

Jungkook holds your eyes for a few seconds and you see that they're back to their usual amber colour.

"Goodnight," he nods.

"Goodnight," you repeat before retreating back to your room.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you slept through the night.

You woke up a lot earlier than you intended to but you felt refreshed. You didn't have any nightmares, in fact, you didn't dream at all. You graciously welcomed the daylight that usually disturbed your already horrible sleep shining through your window. As you put on your slippers, the butterflies in your stomach swarmed when you remembered that Jungkook had slept over. You sat on the edge of your bed and slapped your cheeks from how hard you were grinning. He was probably gone by now but you were going to spend the whole weekend replaying last night in privacy. You giddily swing your bedroom door open and immediately froze. You held your breath and didn't move a single muscle as to not wake the sleeping Jungkook on your couch. After an agonizing minute, you quietly approached him with pursed lips. He was sound asleep with his mouth slightly agape. When Jungkook wasn't speaking or awake in general, he sure looked like an angel. The skittish grin you had on earlier crept back at the sight of him all curled up in your Sanrio blanket. Jungkook rarely let his guard down yet here he was sleeping so peacefully in your home. He had to ability to hear a pin drop in a crowded room so judging by how he didn't wake up from the slight noises you made, poor guy was probably drained. You desperately fought the desire to brush his bangs away from his eyes and left to go wash up instead.

You rolled your eyes when you see the bandage you so caringly put on Jungkook last night in the garbage next to your toilet. You couldn't at least flush it down or hide it? Ass. Still, he let you tend to him and that was good enough for you. Jungkook was still asleep by the time you finished your morning routine. You crept back into your room and decided to clean up. You had completely ignored the state of your home with the little sleep you were getting every night. You looked over to your laundry basket by the window that had been taunting you for weeks and decided to finally tackle it. Sitting down in front of it, you began to sort your white and coloured clothes. As you thought about the things you wanted to get done today, you began to feel excited about the prospect of having a productive weekend when your bedroom door suddenly swung open, the hinges breaking in the process. A frantic looking Jungkook entered followed by a curse when he saw where you positioned.

"Get behind me right now!" he shouted.

Your body and brain freezes from the sudden shock, "W-what?"

"Can you fucking listen to me for once and just-"

Your bedroom window shatters and a black mass breaks through. A scream emits from you when the rogue snaps at your arms. You scramble backwards as the creature attempts to wedge its body through the fracture it created. If you were any closer, you would've been a goner. The absolute depravity of the monster fills your entire body up with fear as flashbacks from the first time you ever encountered a rogue replay in your mind. You couldn't feel your legs and all you could do was scramble back as far as you could go. Tears immediately flood your eyes when the creature snarls and breaks free of the glass that was holding it back. There was absolutely nothing you could do as the creature lunges towards you, the smile it has on it's face seared into your brain. Another scream escapes from you as Jungkook grabs its neck and slams it onto your bedroom floor. Your stomach turns when you see it squirm abnormally under his grasp. The rogue produces high pitched cackling as Jungkook delivers blow after blow to its face.

"Close your eyes." Jungkook orders and you do as you're told.

You choke out a sob when you hear the sick animal laugh as Jungkook tears its flesh apart and breaks its bones. Eventually, the room falls silent but you keep your eyes shut afraid of what you might see. You jump when Jungkook places his hands on your arms.

"Hey it's just me, it's me. It's okay, it's over now." he attempts to soothe you while grabbing your hands, halting your useless attempts to push him away.

When you finally come to, you grab onto him and push your face into his chest. Jungkook tells you to keep your eyes closed as he carries you into the living room, not wanting you to see the aftermath of what he did. He holds your trembling body as tightly as he can and waits for your sobbing to subside. Once he hears your sobs turn into sniffles, he lifts your face from your hands and through your teary vision, you see an apologetic expression plastered on his face.

"I'm packing a bag for you. Tell me what you need, we leave in 20 minutes." he says.

You try to fight against his hold, but he's much stronger than you.

"Jungkook! I can't leave-I can't-"

"We don't have a choice now," he says, his voice soft as ever, "this is the only way I can protect you."

#bts fanfic #jungkook werewolf #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts werewolf au #bts smut #bts #jungkook smut #yoongi #jimin #namjoon #taehyung #hoseok #jin #bts x reader #jungkook werewolf au #choices

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