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idyllic-ghost · 19 days ago

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Title: Unveiling Hearts: The Law of Attraction Pairing: lawyer!Joshua x fem!lawyer!reader Genre: rivals to lovers, coworkers to lovers, lawyer au, romance, smut, fluff, angst Wordcount: 13.4k Rating: 18+

Synopsis: Two former law school rivals are forced to confront their past and present when they end up working together at the same firm. As old tensions resurface, their professional and personal lives become entangled, leading to unexpected challenges. Through rivalry and collaboration, they navigate the complexities of their relationship and careers, discovering that some connections are meant to be re-examined.

Warnings: reader is afab, smut (MDNI), slight dom/sub dynamics, switch!reader, switch!joshua, drunk sex, sex without protection (reader is on birth control), self-doubt, fighting (verbally)

A/N: this is a collab made by @haologram - find the Don't Hate, Litigate! masterlist here!

Disclaimer: The scenarios and depictions in my works are fictional and do not represent real-life situations. They do not aim to reflect the complexities of any culture, city, or individual. All characters are entirely fictional, regardless of names or descriptions.

MDNI: Adults only. Minors are not allowed. Any minors found will be blocked.

Join my taglist // Masterlists

As soon as your eyes flutter open, an unsettling sensation grips you. Despite the blinds being tightly drawn, an unusual brightness floods the room, casting an eerie glow on the walls. The familiar muffled sound of your neighbor’s TV, a constant background noise every morning, is conspicuously absent. This odd silence is jarring. Your heart races as you turn to glance at the clock, its digital display blinking erratically, showing a time far later than your usual wake-up. Panic sets in as you realize your alarm never went off, and you've overslept by a crucial half-hour.

With a string of curses, you stumble out of bed, your feet tangling in the sheets as you lurch toward the closet. Frantically, you grab the first outfit in sight. The button-down shirt you pull on is slightly wrinkled, and you tuck it into your pencil skirt with hurried, sloppy movements. You mutter under your breath, knowing that this disheveled look is a problem for the future you to handle.

Struggling with your pantyhose, you nearly topple over, muttering a string of curses. "Damn you, alarm clock, this is all your fault," you grumble, your voice tinged with frustration. Finally dressed, you sprint into the kitchen, where the unfamiliarity of your new space looms large. "Where are the cups?" you groan, flinging open cabinets and drawers in a frantic search. Each empty cabinet and misplaced item heightens your frustration, making your heart race even faster. After what feels like an eternity, you stumble upon a bowl and, with a resigned sigh, decide it will have to do for your much-needed coffee.

Tofu, your white, fluffy cat, watches you with an air of amused indifference. His emerald eyes follow your every move as you haphazardly brew coffee in the bowl. "Really, Tofu? Just going to sit there and judge me?" you mutter, glancing at him. He meanders over to his food bowl's usual spot, looking at you expectantly. "Great, even the cat knows this place better than I do," you sigh, shaking your head. You scoop out his food and place the bowl on the tray, giving him a quick pet. "Bye, Tofu. Be good," you say, but he merely flicks his tail and turns his back, more interested in his breakfast than your farewell.

Turning to the hallway mirror, you take a moment to compose yourself. You meticulously smooth down each unruly wisp of hair and straighten your blazer with unwavering attention to detail. The reflection staring back at you looks polished and composed, a stark contrast to the chaos of your morning. Satisfied, you grab your bag and dart out the door, mentally steeling yourself for the whirlwind of tasks and challenges that await.

As you arrive at the law firm, you navigate the bustling corridors, your mind already racing with the tasks you need to catch up on. The familiar hum of office chatter and the clatter of keyboards provide a strange sense of comfort amidst the morning's turmoil. You barely settle into your chair, your to-do list unfurling in your mind, when your boss's voice rings out, "We need you in the conference room for an urgent meeting."

You grab your coffee mug, now filled with the hastily brewed beverage, and head to the meeting. "So much for a moment to relax," you think, your shoulders tensing with the anticipation of another demanding day. As your colleagues file into the room, you steel yourself for the challenges ahead. Despite the morning's chaos, you know you have to keep pushing forward.

When you enter the room, you notice a familiar figure standing by the window, reviewing a stack of documents. A tall, handsome man with a dark navy suit and his hair swept back in a haphazard way – the kind of hairstyle that looks effortless, but everyone secretly knows is high maintenance. Your heart skips a beat as you recognize him— Joshua Hong, from law school. The years have been kind to him; he still has the same confident stance and sharp eyes.

You sit down in your usual seat, praying that your old-school rival doesn’t recognize you. Today out of all days – when you look disheveled and tired as all hell – he just had to appear. If you remember correctly, he works for a rival company and you spend several minutes wracking your brain for an answer as to why he is there. Your boss begins discussing the new, urgent case you are assigned to, but your attention is divided between the details of the case and the presence of Joshua. You feel a mix of surprise and irritation at seeing him again, memories of your intense rivalry flooding back.

Once the meeting ends, you’re hurriedly packing your things together to avoid Joshua – you know you wouldn’t be able to avoid him completely, but maybe you could buy yourself enough time to go to the bathroom and put yourself together. However, your plans are disrupted by your supervisor who comes walking over to you.

“Y/L/N, you were unusually quiet today,” he says with a furrowed brow. “Is anything the matter?”

Your supervisor is kind, and you feel truly fortunate to have him. However, his timing leaves much to be desired. As he calls your name, you notice Joshua's head snap in your direction, his eyes narrowing with interest. Maybe he had already seen you, but now he seizes the opportunity to approach. His confident stride carries him across the room, a faint smirk playing on his lips. He joins the two of you, thanking your supervisor for a good first meeting before turning his full attention to you.

“Y/N,” he says, his tone laced with a hint of amusement, his eyes gleaming. “It’s been a while.”

You force a smile, striving to keep your tone neutral. “Joshua. I didn’t expect to see you here,” you reply, noting how his presence seems to fill the room with an almost overbearing energy.

“I just transferred from my old company,” he replies, his voice carrying a familiar, competitive edge. His gaze locks onto yours, unyielding. “Looks like we’ll be working together.”

“Looks like it,” you respond, your heart pounding as you struggle to remain composed. “Welcome to the company, Joshua.” Your words feel stiff, formal, a shield against the flood of emotions his presence invokes.

As you leave the meeting, the cold, distant persona from your university days begins to surface. Memories of who you used to be, shaped by Joshua’s antics, flood back, making you cringe. You recall yourself as the harsh critic, the goody-two-shoes who somehow managed to be a vicious competitor, always driven to outperform everyone else. That fierce competitiveness got you through school, but now, in hindsight, you can’t believe how ruthless you were. The entire situation feels surreal, like a never-ending nightmare.

When you finally reach your office, you glance out the window, only to see Joshua talking to your supervisor again. The sight of him triggers a flood of unwanted memories. He notices you staring and waves playfully, a smug grin on his face. Quickly, you avert your gaze, wishing you could crawl back into bed and escape the reality of work.

The atmosphere in the office feels stifling as you try to focus on your tasks. The bustling environment, usually a source of motivation, now feels oppressive. The fluorescent lights cast a harsh glare, and the incessant hum of conversations around you becomes a dull roar in your ears. Your mind keeps drifting back to Joshua, and the uneasy feeling in your stomach grows.

As the day drags on, you find it increasingly difficult to concentrate. Every little sound seems amplified—the rustle of papers, the click of keyboards, the distant ring of phones. Your thoughts are a jumbled mess, and you can't shake the anxiety gnawing at you. When lunchtime finally arrives, you retreat to a quiet corner of the break room, seeking a moment of solace.

Sitting with your back against the wall, you close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to center yourself. The familiar scent of coffee and the murmur of your colleagues’ conversations provide a small measure of comfort. You remind yourself that you’ve faced challenges before and emerged stronger. This time will be no different.

When you return to your desk, you catch sight of Joshua once more. He stands at the center of a group of coworkers, his animated gestures and infectious laughter commanding their attention. The sunlight streaming through the office windows catches the gleam of his watch and the crisp lines of his tailored suit, accentuating his charismatic presence. His eyes twinkle with that familiar confidence, and every so often, he glances around the room, as if he owns it.

You take a deep breath, feeling a knot of tension in your stomach. Steeling yourself, you remind yourself that his reappearance will not unsettle you. Squaring your shoulders, you walk with purpose to your desk, the clicking of your heels on the polished floor echoing your determination.

Settling into your chair, you take a moment to ground yourself. The familiar hum of the office envelops you, a steady rhythm that helps you regain your focus. You arrange your papers neatly, your fingers tracing the edges of each document, seeking comfort in the orderliness. The scent of fresh coffee from your mug mingles with the faint aroma of office supplies, creating an oddly soothing atmosphere.

With renewed resolve, you dive into your work, your fingers dancing over the keyboard with practiced efficiency. The tasks before you, once daunting, now seem manageable. You immerse yourself in the flow of productivity, your mind honing in on each detail, each challenge. The turbulent morning fades into the background, replaced by the clarity of purpose.

Just as you settle back into your workflow, you stand to retrieve a document from the printer. As you round the corner, you collide directly with Joshua, who is holding a stack of papers. His documents scatter across the floor, and for a brief moment, you lock eyes.

"Watch where you’re going," you say, trying to keep your voice steady.

Joshua bends down to gather his papers, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Looks like some things never change," he retorts. "Still as clumsy as ever, I see."

You kneel to help him, your fingers brushing against his as you both reach for the same document. A jolt of annoyance surges through you, mingled with an unwelcome spark of attraction. "And you're still as irritating as ever," you reply, your tone sharp.

He chuckles, the sound low and infuriatingly charming. "It's good to see you haven't lost your edge."

"Good to see you haven't lost your overconfidence," you snap back, handing him the last of his papers. "Just stay out of my way."

"Can't make any promises," he says, his eyes twinkling with that competitive spark. "But I'll try to be more careful around you."

You stand up, brushing off your skirt, and take a step back. Joshua stands up with you, looking at you expectantly. Some of his, otherwise perfectly slicked back, hair had fallen out of place over his forehead. "You do that," you say, turning on your heel and walking away.

The encounter leaves you simmering, but also oddly invigorated. The rivalry that once pushed you to your limits in university now fuels your determination, and the undercurrent of attraction only adds to the tension.

Returning to your desk, you feel a renewed sense of focus. Despite the lingering presence of Joshua in the back of your mind, you remind yourself that you’re capable and resilient. Each completed task, each problem solved, reinforces your confidence. You glance up occasionally, noting the bustle of the office around you, a testament to the day marching on.

Later that evening, you meet up with your friend Nari at your favorite bar. The warm ambiance and the hum of conversations provide a comforting backdrop as you both settle into a booth with your drinks. It’s just what you need after your chaotic day at work, and you let yourself fully relax – something that your friend seems to be unable to do. Nari sips her cocktail and sighs deeply, clearly exasperated.

“Another bad date?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah,” Nari groans. “I don’t know why I even bother with these dating apps anymore. They never seem to work out.”

You nod sympathetically. Nari’s dating woes are a frequent topic of conversation, almost to the point where you have a script of what to say. “Maybe you need to take a break from them.”

“What am I doing wrong, Y/N?” she exclaims with a pout.

“You’re not doing anything wrong,” you correct her. “None of these guys you’re seeing can reach up to your standards, that’s all.”

Nari swirls her drink thoughtfully. “I just can’t get that one guy out of my head. Do you remember the one I met at the bar a few years ago? We had this amazing conversation all night, but I never got his number.”

You scoff playfully, rolling your eyes. “You're such a romantic, Nari. Holding out hope for some guy you met once.”

“You don’t understand! We talked for hours, at some point I thought I'd never go home– and I was fine with it! I think we talked about Billy Elliot for, like, an hour. We both had been crying through it as kids, apparently,” she explains. “It felt like I had met a soulmate... not just because of that, of course, but we were so alike in everything we talked about! I’ve never met anyone like that.”

“This is why I can’t do what you do,” you say. “I can’t do romance, I’d just end up disappointed.”

Nari laughs and leans in closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Speaking of romance, what about you and Joshua? Seems like you two have a lot of unresolved tension.”

You nearly choke on your drink. “Joshua? No way. He’s just... ugh, he’s always been a pain. And now I’ll have to deal with him again. I thought I was done with him after uni.”

“Uh-huh,” Nari teases, raising an eyebrow. “A handsome, successful pain who you just can’t stop thinking about.”

You shake your head in an attempt to drown out her claims, but you can’t deny that Joshua has been occupying your thoughts since you saw him earlier. Despite feeling annoyed by his presence, you find yourself strangely intrigued by the possibilities. It’s strange how someone you despised could still ignite a sense of motivation within you.

“Do you know why he transferred?” Nari asks, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Not at all,” you admit. “I thought he was pretty much in love with his old company– that’s what it sounded like in school, at least.”

“I have a memory of you complaining about that, yeah.” She nods and sips on her drink before she gets an idea that almost makes her jump out of her seat. “If you’re going to start complaining about Joshua now, I think I’m allowed to talk about my almost-soulmate! We should take turns!”

“Why are you so excited about that?” You laugh at her eccentric behavior.

“Because now I finally have something to hold over your head!” she exclaims and the two of you laugh together.

After finishing your drinks, you and Nari leave the bar, bickering lightheartedly about your love lives before you head your separate ways. Walking home, the cool night air does little to clear your head. Your thoughts drift back to Joshua and the memories of your law school days. You remember the heated debates, the competitive spirit, and most vividly, the times you compared test scores after the particularly grueling exams. Everything you did, in the end, you did to beat Joshua. It’s part of the reason you ended up at the top of your class, you’re sure of it.

As you unlock your door and step into your apartment, your cat greets you with a soft meow. You sigh, kicking off your shoes and recounting the day’s events to your furry friend. “Can you believe it, Tofu? Joshua Hong, of all people.”

Your cat blinks at you, unimpressed by your human drama. Shaking your head, you head to the bathroom to get ready for bed. After feeding Tofu, you walk into your bathroom to do your skincare. As you brush your teeth, you catch your reflection in the mirror, thinking about Joshua’s smirk and the way he still knows how to get under your skin. You shiver at the thought, quickly spitting out the toothpaste in your sink before going into your bedroom.

Finally, you crawl into bed, setting your alarm with extra care this time.

“Not going to be late again,” you mutter to yourself, determined to face whatever challenges tomorrow brings, including Joshua. As you drift off to sleep, your dreams are filled with memories of past rivalries and the confusing mix of emotions that come with seeing Joshua again.

The next day, you walk into the office determined to focus on your work and ignore Joshua. However, that plan quickly falls apart. As soon as you start reviewing the case files, Joshua walks up behind you in the meeting room. He looks over your shoulder, at the notes you have on your computer, and points out a section you had just written.

“Are you sure you want to approach the case like this?” he asks, pointing to your notes. “I think your argument here is a bit weak.”

You glare at him, refusing to back down. “I’m confident in my approach, Joshua. Maybe you should focus on your work instead of nitpicking mine.”

He smirks, raising an eyebrow. “Just trying to help. Wouldn’t want you to get left behind.”

From that moment, the rivalry that had simmered since law school reignites with full force. Every interaction becomes a contest of who can outdo the other, with you both constantly trying to prove your superiority. Meetings turn into battlegrounds of sharp words and pointed comments, neither of you willing to concede any ground.

Weeks pass, and your frustration with Joshua grows. You vent to Nari over lunch, recounting the latest clash with your rival.

“He just gets under my skin,” you fume, stabbing at your salad. “He questions everything I do, and it’s driving me crazy.”

Nari listens patiently, a knowing smile on her face. “You know, all this bickering sounds like something else to me.”

You look at her, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Nari says, leaning in, “as I said before, it sounds like you two have a lot of unresolved tension. To me, all of your stories sound like he’s flirting with you. Maybe you should just ask him out and get it over with.”

You blink in surprise, caught off guard by the suggestion. “Ask him out? Joshua? Are you kidding?”

“Think about it,” Nari insists. “You guys are already close, and there’s clearly something there. It might be worth exploring.”

You shake your head, but Nari’s words linger in your mind. The idea seems absurd, yet the more you think about it, the more you wonder if there might be some truth to what she’s saying. It’s not like your love life can get any worse—it’s practically non-existent. Being with someone you know, someone who’s as passionate about work as you are might be a good thing. Maybe there is something beneath all the rivalry and tension that’s worth exploring.

Over the next few days, Nari’s words echo in your mind. The more you think about it, the more you realize there might be some truth to her suggestion. Joshua is good-looking and undeniably talented, and your interactions, while contentious, are always charged with a certain energy. You start to wonder if, beneath all that rivalry, there might be something more. And even if there wasn’t, maybe there could be something – you had been on your own for a while, it was time to find someone.

Finally, you decide to take Nari’s advice. You can’t deny that Joshua has been occupying your thoughts more than usual, and maybe it’s time to confront this situation head-on. After all, what’s the worst that could happen?

The case your team has been working on finally comes to a close, and you all decide to celebrate with a night out at a nearby bar. As the drinks flow, your usual restraint begins to wane, and you find yourself getting more and more intoxicated.

Encouraged by the alcohol and a sudden surge of confidence, you decide to go for it. You approach Joshua, your heart pounding in your chest. He’s standing by the wall, watching all of your coworkers play a game of mafia loudly. He managed to lose in the first round, and you followed shortly after—on purpose, to be alone with him.

“Joshua,” you slur slightly, trying to steady yourself. “I need to tell you something.”

He looks at you curiously, tilting his head. “What is it, Y/N?”

Taking a deep breath, you muster all your courage. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I think there’s something between us. Do you... want to go out with me?”

For a moment, there’s silence. Then Joshua sighs, a look of regret and guilt crossing his face. “Y/N, I... I have a girlfriend.”

Your heart sinks, the embarrassment hitting you like a sobering wave. “Oh,” you manage to say, your voice small. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay,” he says gently. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.”

You nod, forcing a smile. “No, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have... I’m just gonna go.”

Even when he’s rejecting you, he’s perfect. Without waiting for a response, you turn and make your way outside, your vision blurring with unshed tears.

You find yourself sitting on the curb, the cool night air doing little to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside you. Through blurred vision, you order a cab on your phone. As you wait for your cab, your phone rings. It’s Nari.

“Hey, guess what!” she exclaims, her excitement palpable even through the phone, and she doesn’t even give you time to answer before she continues, “I found him! The guy from the bar all that time ago. We’re going out for fast food right now! His name is Vernon– can you believe how sweet that is?”

You force yourself to sound happy for her, even though your heart feels like it’s breaking. “That’s amazing, Nari. I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks, Y/N. I gotta go, but we’ll talk soon, okay? I’ll give you all the details later,” she whispers out the last part as if she’s scared to get caught.

“Sure,” you say, barely managing to keep your voice steady. “Have fun.”

As the call ends, you finally allow the tears to fall. The cab arrives, and you climb in, trying to hold back the sobs that threaten to escape. The driver doesn’t say anything as you give your address, and you spend the ride home in silence, the events of the night playing over and over in your mind.

When you finally get home, you collapse onto your bed, the weight of your unrequited feelings pressing down on you. Despite your best efforts, you can’t stop the tears that come, and you cry yourself to sleep, the heartbreak feeling all too real.

The next morning, you drag yourself to work, the events of the previous night still weighing heavily on your mind. The thought of facing Joshua again is too much to bear, so you decide to take action. After some deliberation, you gather your courage and head to your boss’s office.

“Come in,” your boss says as you knock on the door. You step inside, closing the door behind you.

“Good morning,” you greet, trying to keep your voice steady. “I wanted to discuss something important.”

Your boss looks up from his paperwork, giving you his full attention. “Of course, Y/N. What’s on your mind?”

Taking a deep breath, you say, “I’d like to request a transfer to a different department.”

Your boss raises an eyebrow. “A transfer? This is sudden. Is everything alright?”

You hesitate, choosing your words carefully. “I just think a change of scenery would be beneficial for me right now. Personal reasons, mostly.”

He studies you for a moment before nodding. “Well, it’s interesting you bring this up. You were due for a promotion. I was planning to discuss it with you later this week. If you’re looking for a change, we can consider promoting you to a different department.”

Surprise and relief wash over you. “Really? That would be... perfect.”

“Great. Let me work out the details, and I’ll get back to you by the end of the week,” he says, offering a reassuring smile.

“Thank you,” you reply, genuinely grateful.

For the rest of the week, you make a conscious effort to avoid Joshua. You adjust your schedule to minimize any potential interactions, keeping your head down and focusing on your work. Whenever you catch a glimpse of him in the hallway or the break room, you quickly divert your path, hoping to remain unnoticed.

The days crawl by, but finally, your boss calls you into his office again. “Y/L/N, I have some good news. We’ve finalized your promotion. Starting next week, you’ll be moving to the Corporate Law Department as a Senior Associate.”

A wave of relief floods over you. “Thank you so much. I appreciate the opportunity.”

“Congratulations, Y/N. I have no doubt you’ll excel in your new role.”

As you leave his office, you can’t help but feel a mix of emotions. Relief at the promotion and the prospect of a fresh start, but also a lingering sadness at how things turned out with Joshua. You throw yourself into your new role, working hard to establish yourself and make the most of the opportunity.

Months go by, and you successfully manage to avoid Joshua. Your new position keeps you busy, and the physical distance between departments helps. Slowly, you begin to find your footing again, the sting of rejection fading with time.

While the rivalry with Joshua may be behind you, the memory of it lingers, a reminder of the complicated dynamics that can exist between two people. But for now, you focus on moving forward, determined to make the most of your career and whatever comes next.

It’s late spring, and Nari is practically glowing with happiness. She and her new boyfriend, Vernon, have been dating for a few months now, and they’ve just decided to take their first trip together. Over one of your weekly lunches, Nari excitedly tells you about the trip.

“Guess what?” Nari exclaims, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

“What’s up?” you ask, smiling at her enthusiasm – it was always nice to see her being so positive, something that’s happened more and more recently.

“Vernon’s friend invited us to stay at his summer house for a few days! It’s going to be amazing – a beautiful lake, lots of relaxation, and just what we need,” she gushes.

“That sounds fantastic,” you reply, genuinely happy for her.

Nari leans in a bit closer. “There’s more. Vernon’s friend said I could invite someone, and I want you to come with us.”

You’re taken aback. “Me? Are you sure? It’s your first vacation together, Nari. I don’t want to intrude.”

Nari shakes her head vigorously. “No, no, it’s not like that. I’ll be honest, I need you there. This is a big step for me and Vernon, and having you there would be a huge support. Plus, Vernon’s friend is single, and you never know…”

You laugh and shake your head. “I’m not going for a romantic setup, Nari. But if you need me there, I’ll come.”

Nari beams at you, relief evident on her face. “Thank you, Y/N. It means a lot to me.”

A week later, you find yourself nestled comfortably in the backseat of Vernon’s car. The gentle hum of the engine and the rhythmic swaying of the vehicle create a soothing backdrop as Nari and Vernon engage in lively conversation up front. The bustling cityscape slowly fades away, giving way to a more serene and picturesque countryside. Verdant fields extend endlessly on either side of the road, their lush green expanse interspersed with vibrant wildflowers that flutter playfully in the breeze. As the car's tires glide smoothly over the pavement, you watch the world outside morph into a stunning pastoral scene, the tranquil rhythm of the journey calming your senses.

When Vernon’s car finally rolls to a stop in front of the lake house, your breath catches. The estate before you is nothing short of magnificent, standing majestically against the backdrop of the glistening lake. The grand architecture of the lake house blends seamlessly with the surrounding nature, its wide verandas and large, inviting windows exuding an air of comfort and elegance. The entire property seems to beckon you inside, promising a retreat from the outside world.

You take a moment to soak in the breathtaking view, feeling an overwhelming sense of peace. The lake stretches out like a pristine mirror, reflecting the clear blue sky and the lush, green trees that frame its edges. The late afternoon sun casts long, golden shadows across the landscape, imbuing the scene with a warm, inviting glow. It feels like a perfect sanctuary where the demands of daily life simply melt away.

“Wow, this place is amazing,” you breathe out, your eyes wide with admiration as you take in the idyllic surroundings.

Vernon’s face lights up with pride. “Yeah, it’s quite something, isn’t it? My friend’s doing very well for himself.”

Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you turn to Vernon. “What does your friend do for a living?”

Vernon chuckles softly, clearly enjoying the moment. “Josh is a lawyer.”

The name hits you like a sudden jolt, and a sense of dread grips you. “Wait, a lawyer? Josh?”

Before Vernon can respond further, you notice a figure approaching the car. A wave of panic washes over you as you recognize the approaching figure.

Joshua Hong.

Desperation surges through you, and you scramble for an excuse. “Nari, can you drop me off at a bus stop or somewhere nearby? I just remembered I have an urgent appointment back home.”

Vernon, oblivious to your distress, steps out of the car to greet Joshua with a friendly wave. Nari, her concern evident, turns to you with a worried expression. “Y/N, are you okay?”

You manage a strained smile, hoping to alleviate her concern. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a last-minute thing.”

Nari’s concern deepens as she looks around, considering your request. “I’m sorry, but there aren’t any bus stops around here for a while. Is it really that urgent?”

“It’s about to be…” The urgency in your voice is more than noticeable, but you know you have no choice but to face Joshua. With a heavy heart, you brace yourself and step out of the car, greeting him with a curt nod.

“Joshua,” you say, striving to keep your voice steady despite the turmoil roiling within you.

“Y/N,” he replies, his tone polite but his eyes revealing a hint of surprise at seeing you.

Vernon, sensing the tension, steps in to diffuse the situation. “Joshua, Y/N is Nari's friend I mentioned earlier.”

Joshua nods politely, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer than necessary. “Nice to see you again, Y/N.”

You muster a tight-lipped smile, doing your best to conceal the inner storm. “Likewise.”

Nari glances between you and Joshua, her curiosity piqued. “You two know each other? From where?”

“From work,” you and Joshua say in unison, the shared response hanging in the air.

Nari’s eyes widen slightly as she processes this. “Oh… it’s that Joshua…” she murmurs under her breath, and you feel a headache beginning to brew by the front of your head.

As you follow Nari and Vernon inside, you can’t shake the feeling that this trip might not be as relaxing as you hoped – especially with Joshua Hong in such close proximity.

The group settles into the lake house, and you’re shown to your rooms by Joshua. Nari and Vernon are assigned the more spacious guest room, leaving you with the smaller one just down the hall from Joshua’s room. It’s a beautiful place, but the proximity to Joshua adds another layer of discomfort. He shows it to you while the other two unpack their bags. When you’ve walked into the room and put your bag down, Joshua leans against the door frame.

“I heard you got a promotion,” he begins, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, I did,” you reply tersely, not sure where this conversation is headed.

“Congratulations,” he says, his voice sincere.

“Thanks,” you mutter, feeling uneasy under his gaze.

“Listen, if I had known that it was you, I would’ve asked Nari to invite someone else,” Joshua admits his words causing a pang of disappointment in your chest.

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint,” you retort.

“That’s not what I—” he starts to explain, but you cut him off.

“I’ll leave as soon as I figure out a way to get home,” you declare, already planning your escape. "They insisted on driving me here, so I don't exactly have a way of escaping."

“Y/N, you should stay,” Joshua insists, his tone softer now. “I’ve never seen you take time off before. You should enjoy yourself.”

You scoff bitterly. “You think I can enjoy myself when you’re around?”

“I’ll stay out of your way as much as I can,” Joshua offers, ignoring your bitterness. “As long as Nari and Vernon haven’t planned group activities.”

You pause, considering his words. The prospect of leaving this beautiful retreat because of Joshua doesn’t sit well with you, but neither does the thought of spending more time in such close quarters with him.

“... fine. Let’s hope they haven’t,” you concede reluctantly, closing the door with a finality that hangs heavily in the air.

As Joshua walks away, you close the door and lean against it, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. This vacation suddenly feels more like a test of endurance than a relaxing getaway.

Despite the close quarters of the lake house, you manage to maintain a respectful distance from Joshua. You navigate the space with a careful precision, orchestrating excuses to linger in the background or to partake in activities where he’s less likely to be present. It's a delicate dance of avoidance—sidestepping eye contact and keeping your conversations short and polite whenever your paths intersect.

One afternoon, Nari proposes a boat ride around the lake. You agree reluctantly, hoping the change of scenery will provide a welcome distraction from the uncomfortable tension that lingers between you and Joshua. As you settle into the boat, the engine’s soft rumble vibrates through the seats, and you take a deep breath, attempting to embrace the moment.

Across from you, Vernon occupies his seat with a quiet, unassuming presence. His warm smile and relaxed demeanor are new to you, as you haven’t had much chance to interact with him until now. He seems genuinely at ease, contrasting sharply with the tension you feel.

“I heard about what happened between you two,” Vernon says, his voice gentle but carrying an undercurrent of curiosity.

You glance over at Joshua, who stands by the steering wheel, showing Nari the intricacies of boat operation. Nari, bundled up in one of Vernon’s oversized sweaters, tugs at the sleeves as she watches Joshua’s every move. She studies the way he operates the boat with knitted brows, nodding along to every other word he says.

Joshua, dressed in his annoyingly perfect white t-shirt and black swimming trunks, looks effortlessly handsome, and it stings to see him so relaxed. His hair is messily slicked back, kept in place by the salty water from his swim earlier- which you definitely didn't witness. Some of the water still clings to his slightly sunburnt skin. A pair of sunglasses sit on the tip of his nose, and you can't really see where he's looking but you hope for everyone's sake that he's looking at the water and not you. With him far enough away to allow for candid conversation, you turn back to Vernon with a sigh.

“Did he tell you everything?” you ask, your voice carrying a trace of exasperation.

“Pretty much,” Vernon responds with a thoughtful hum. “Honestly, I’m on your side. He’s a big flirt.”

“You can say that again.” You take a sip of the cocktail Nari had prepared for the group, the fruity flavor providing a momentary distraction. “I think it’s in his nature…”

Vernon chuckles, lifting his own drink to his lips. There’s something surprisingly comforting about his presence, and you begin to feel a sense of camaraderie with him.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for Nari, by the way,” you say, your tone sincere. “I haven’t seen her this happy in a long time.”

Vernon shrugs modestly, but his small, genuine smile betrays his pleasure. “I just like making her happy... Actually, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“Go ahead,” you encourage, curiosity piqued.

“I’ve been thinking of asking her to move in with me,” Vernon confesses, his voice laced with both excitement and nervousness. You hum thoughtfully. “Things have been going so well—so I was considering asking her with flowers, lilies.”

“She’ll love that.” You nod approvingly. “She’s quite the romantic—getting her flowers that she's named after will definitely make her swoon.”

You both chuckle at the thought, glancing over at Nari, who waves cheerfully from her spot. The warmth of the moment makes you realize that Vernon’s proposal is heartfelt and genuine. You turn back to him, offering more advice. “Asking her to move in with you is a great idea. I’m sure she’d love it. She’s just a bit shy when it comes to big gestures. It might be better to do it after the trip, when you’re alone. She likes to keep things private.”

“Good to know.” Vernon nods, setting his glass back down with a thoughtful expression.

“I’m not her best friend for nothing,” you say with a hint of pride.

“True,” Vernon agrees with a smile. “... Can I give you some advice too?”

“Shoot,” you reply, looking at him with an intrigued gaze.

“Try again,” he suggests softly, his tone carrying a note of encouragement. “With Joshua, I mean.”

“Doesn’t he have a girlfriend?” you ask, feeling a mix of hope and skepticism.

“Things have changed...” Vernon’s fingers fidget slightly, as if he’s weighing his words carefully. “I won’t speak for him, but just… give it a try.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” you say with a resigned sigh. “Maybe I will.”

As the boat glides smoothly across the lake’s tranquil waters, the gentle lap of waves against the hull offers a brief respite from the storm of emotions swirling within you. The serenity of the lake, combined with Vernon’s unexpected support, provides a welcome escape from the lingering tension at the lake house.

As the vacation nears its end, you find yourself alone with Joshua on the porch one evening – Vernon’s words floating freely in your mind. You’re not sure how you ended up sitting with Joshua, but you were tipsy enough not to care. After the drinks before and during dinner, on top of the beer you’re drinking now, your ability to think of the consequences of your actions has flown out the window. So, sitting next to Joshua on the deckchairs is the least of your worries at the moment.

The sun sets in a blaze of orange and pink hues, casting a warm glow over the lake house porch where the two of you sit. There’s tension in the air, a mix of unresolved rivalry and unspoken attraction that has lingered between you for so long.

Joshua breaks the silence, his voice gentle yet filled with determination. “I heard Vernon’s going to ask Nari to move in with him.”

“He is.” You nod. “It’s sweet.”

“Do you think it’s a good idea?” he questions.

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“It’s only been a few months, they barely know each other… I just think it’s better if they wait.” Joshua takes a sip of his beer.

“I think you’re being pessimistic.” You put down your own bottle of beer. “They’re good for each other. Some people can have all the time in the world and still not work out, why shouldn’t they try it out?”

Joshua pauses, looking over at you with a questioning gaze. You watch the gears turning in his head, and he eventually groans when he comes to a realization. “Vernon told you about my break up, didn’t he?”

“Nothing gets past you, does it?” You sigh. “It’s not like I pried the information out of him, you know?”

“I know, I just… we have a history that makes everything awkward, somehow,” Joshua says. “It just adds to it, I guess– I should’ve told him not to say anything.”

“It’s fine. Why should I care?” You fidget with your nails.

Joshua placed his half-empty bottle of beer down on the wooden table, the condensation leaving a small ring on the surface. As he did so, he shot a quizzical look in your direction, raising one eyebrow in playful curiosity. A rush of excitement bubbled up inside you, but you quickly attributed it to the alcohol. Nevertheless, unable to contain your amusement, a soft giggle escaped your lips as you returned his gaze with a coy grin and raised your eyebrows inquisitively, silently prompting him to explain his unexpected gesture.

“You don’t care?” he asks, “Not at all? Not one bit?”

“Not at all.” You take another sip of your beer. “Not one bit.”

Joshua hums in disapproval, slowly shaking his head – but his smile gave away that he was joking around. The look he gave you, something secret glittering in his eyes, took you back to all those years ago. He looked the same as he did in university. Maybe his smile lines were a bit more pronounced, and maybe you could find gray hairs if you looked closely, but he was pretty much the same. A proper boy next door with an irresistible charm.

“I could’ve sworn that you asked me out a few months ago,” he argued. “To me, that seems like caring– I don’t know about you.”

“Shut up.” You playfully roll your eyes at him and put your beer bottle down next to his. “Let’s forget about it. I should’ve known you weren’t interested, anyway.”

“I don’t want to forget about it,” Joshua confesses. “And who says I’m not interested?”

You cast a furtive glance in Joshua's direction, your eyes widening in surprise, but he responds with a casual shrug. As he sits up, he swings his legs over the deckchair's edge to squarely face you. His tousled hair adds to his disheveled charm, prompting you to sit up a bit and instinctively reach out to straighten it, but you stop yourself just in time. The two of you are seated with your feet pointing toward each other, both of you feeling the weight of anticipation for what might unfold next hanging in the air.

“You’re interested in me?” you ask.

“Why do you think my relationship went to shit?”

You guffaw at his statement as if it was the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard. However, Joshua looks back at you with complete seriousness.

“You’re saying you broke up with your ex because of me?” you say.

“I might as well have,” he confesses. “She said I talked too much about you… even went so far as to encourage me to go after you ‘now that I’m single,’ although I don’t think she was being serious with that one.”

Hearing about Joshua’s failing relationship, because of you no less, satisfies the little monster of envy in your chest. You can’t help but laugh at the situation, though you quickly cover your mouth and apologize.

“No, you’re right.” He picks his beer up again and takes a sip. “It is funny.”

“... you talked about me?” you question, and lean forward as if to encourage him to share his secrets. “What did you say?”

“I’m not sure if I should tell,” he mutters and leans forward as well. “Do you really want to know?”

“Desperately,” you say dramatically, making Joshua laugh.

“Most of the time I complained– but apparently my tangents were too flirtatious in nature.”

“That’s just like you.” You nodded. “You flirt with everyone.”

“Of course, you would think that…” he murmurs and glances down at your lips. “The truth is, Y/N… I only flirt with you.”

“That’s not true! I’ve seen you! You chat up every woman I’ve ever seen you work with– not to mention the way you always try to flatter our superiors.”

“Flattery and flirting are different, sweetheart.” He puts down the bottle again and moves a little closer to you. “I thought you, out of all people, would’ve noticed that by now.”

You can only stare at Joshua, your mind completely blank of any retaliation that you would usually come up with. Not even when Joshua reached over to you, and grabbed your hand; not even when he pulled you up to your feet and guided you over to where he was sitting, could you come up with anything to say.

You only stare as he grabs your beer from your hand and puts it on the table, before making you straddle his lap. Everything in your mind is screaming at you to do something – you’re surprised by how easily you give in to him, but you do nothing to stop it.

“Is this okay?” he asks and you can only nod in response. “Not feeling so chatty anymore?”

Who is this man? You don’t recognize the Joshua in front of you – when did he gain the ability to make you weak in the knees? With a gentle touch, Joshua traces the skin of your arms until he reaches your hands – which he puts on his shoulders. His every move is slow, giving you the opportunity to deny him. You don’t. Joshua lets out a chuckle at your wide eyes and slightly parted lips.

“Who even are you?” you manage to whisper.

“Tonight? I’m whoever you want me to be.”

“You’re drunk.”

“I’m sober enough to know what I want,” he argues. “Do you?”

You swallow and glance down at his lips, at the way the tip of his tongue darts out to wet them ever so slightly — has he always had such perfectly kissable lips? When Joshua’s hands play with the hem of your shirt, you’re brought back to your senses. He raises his eyebrows, silently repeating his question.

“Fuck it,” you mutter under your breath. “Take me to your room.”

Nari and Vernon are already asleep at the other end of the house, deciding to take an early night after the drinking and constant sun exposure tired them out, so Joshua carries you through the house without worry. He’s already kissing you by the time he opens the door to his bedroom – the only room you haven’t seen in the house.

His bed is neatly made, everything put into place, although you hardly notice it as Joshua’s keeping you much too busy. He throws you on the bed, before crawling up to you himself. You find yourself pinned under him, as he drinks in the sight of you looking like the perfect prey.

“Will you let me have my way with you without biting back tonight, sweetheart?” he murmurs before pressing another soft kiss to your lips.

“Depends on if you can shut me up or not,” you tease.

“Oh, you’re just begging to be taught a lesson, aren’t you?”

You shut him up with another kiss, and he smiles against your lips. As your hands find their way under his t-shirt, he pulls away for a second to pull it over his head. Your hands reach out to touch him, admire his toned, sunkissed torso—cursing yourself for saying no when the rest of the group went out to swim earlier today. Joshua’s hands are playing with the hem of your shirt now, and you sit up to take it off. One of his hands cups your still-covered breast, while the other gently caresses your waist.

“Beautiful,” he mutters under his breath before bending down to leave marks along your clavicle.

You turn your head to give him more access, a gasp escaping your lips as his teeth graze against your delicate skin. His hands go behind your back, unclipping the clasp of your bra and pulling the straps down your shoulders.

You cup his cheek, your fingers trembling slightly as you study his flushed face. The intensity in his eyes and the warmth of his skin feel almost surreal, as if this moment is one you’ll never experience again. Your breath comes in shallow, uneven gasps, the air around you charged with an electric tension that makes it almost impossible to think clearly.

“What are you doing to me?” he asks, his voice a mix of confusion and desire. His breath mingles with yours, each exhale heavy with the weight of unspoken emotions.

“Is it me or is it the alcohol?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, each word laden with uncertainty.

“I don’t know,” he admits, his eyes locked onto yours, his gaze searching for answers that neither of you seem to have.

Before you have a chance to respond, the space between you closes with a sudden intensity. His lips crash against yours, the contact sending a jolt of electricity through your entire body. The world narrows to just the sensation of his kiss, every other thought and concern momentarily forgotten. The tension that had been building between you erupts in this singular, explosive moment, leaving you breathless and utterly consumed.

Joshua pushes one of his knees between your legs, and you moan into his mouth at the contact. The sound ignited something within him, and he began kissing down your body. When he reached the top of your jeans, he expertly undid the button and zipper and pulled the pants off your body. A wet stain is visible on your gray panties, and Joshua presses his thumb against it. An urge to close your legs hits you then, but he’s holding them apart—as if he’s protecting his right to see you like this with his life.

Soon enough, he’s ripping your panties off and diving into your pussy. His tongue is messy, toying with your clit before moving down to your hole. Joshua moans, his eyes rolling into the back of his head, as he tastes you. His arms wrap tightly around your thighs, holding you in place. Even if you wanted to escape his ministrations, you couldn’t.

“Oh god,” you moan, “Don’t stop!”

You should know better than to command Joshua to do something. As soon as the words leave your lips, his grip releases and he sits up on his knees. Your orgasm is dragged away from you, and you glare up at Joshua. He only grins back like a madman, his lower face covered in your juices.

With a huff, you sit up and go to unbutton his jeans—desperate to have him feel the same withdrawal. He halts your movements by softly placing his hands over yours, gently guiding them to a stop. You look up at him. His eyes are filled with lust as he cups your cheek, bending down to capture your lips in a kiss. You whimper when you taste yourself on him.

“Do you want me?” he murmurs against your lips.

“Please,” you whine.

“Tell me,” he hums. “Tell me that you want me.”

He leans his forehead against yours, staring into your soul. You can’t allow yourself to say it—you can’t give in to him this easily… right? But you do want him, that’s no secret by now. You don’t just want him, you need him.

“I want you, Joshua…”

With an animalistic growl, he pushes his lips against yours again. You help him get his pants off, your teeth clashing against each other as you move. There’s no time to savor feeling him up over his underwear, he just rips them off.

His calloused hands push you back onto the bed before he pushes your thighs apart again. He watches you like a man starved, waiting for any sign that you don’t want to continue. You reach out for him, and once he’s in your embrace you lock your legs around his waist.

“I give in,” you murmur in his ear. “Have your way with me.”

At your compliance, he aligns his cock with your core and pushes inside of you. The two of you groan at the feeling—something that you hadn’t felt in so long, to the point where you had forgotten how much better it felt than playing with your toys. You trail kisses down his jaw, to his throat. Joshua starts moving his hips against yours, and you find yourself in ecstasy.

“You’re unbelievable,” he moans hoarsely.

You smile against the skin of his neck, only humming in approval. His dick was bigger than you could’ve imagined, filling you up to the point where you felt completely full, and when he slams into you like your pussy is the best he’s ever had, you can’t help but nearly scream for him. You can only hope that your friends are sound asleep.

“I should’ve done this sooner.” Joshua pants as he leans his forehead against yours. “You feel so good…”

For a moment, you swear that you heard him whine for you. As his hips stutter, you take the opportunity to maneuver yourself on top of him. Once you’re sitting on him, you grind your hips against his before you start bouncing. Joshua sits up, taking one of your tits in his mouth—his hands traveling from your waist to your upper back to push you further against him.

“Do you want to cum inside me, baby?” you ask.

Joshua peers up at you through his lashes, his eyes hazy with lust. His mouth detaches from your body, and you smile at the sight of his glossy and swollen lips. He nods, laying back down to fuck up into you. Joshua’s hands are back on your hips, keeping you still to let him do all the work.

“Holy fffuck–”

You reach your hand down to rub your clit, and Joshua moans as you clench around him. The two of you are babbling incoherently; begging the other to cum with you, telling each other that you’re so close, and letting out unintelligible moans.

By the time you’re cumming, you’re shaking and your eyes are rolling back into your head. You fall against Joshua as he starts slowing down his thrusts. His arms embrace you again, holding your sweaty body against his chest.

“Are you alright?” he whispers, his voice tender and concerned as it brushes against your ear.

“I’m good,” you slur out, struggling to piece together your fragmented thoughts.

For a brief moment, everything goes dark. When consciousness returns, you find yourself lying beside Joshua. The covers are now draped over both of you, cocooning you in a warm embrace. Joshua’s fingers trace gentle, soothing circles on your skin, his touch both comforting and intimate. As your eyes flutter open, you meet his gaze. His eyes hold a mixture of relief and affection, and a soft, reassuring smile spreads across his face.

“Hi,” he says, his voice low and gentle, as if he’s afraid to startle you.

“Hi,” you respond, your voice still shaky. “Was I out?”

“Only for a bit,” he murmurs, his fingers continuing their soothing motion. “I got us cleaned up and into bed. You didn’t miss much.” His tone is calming, filled with a quiet confidence that eases the lingering haze from your mind.

You chuckle, moving to lay closer to his chest. "I'm on birth control, by the way... you don't have to worry about any surprises."

Joshua hums in response. Your legs are already sore, but you find comfort in the slight sting. Joshua’s fingers don’t stop drawing circles and the action, along with the rhythm of his breathing, has you almost falling back asleep.

“I missed you after graduation,” he admits with a mutter. “I thought I’d find it peaceful, but I didn’t… I did everything to hide it, but maybe switching companies gave it away.”

“You switched companies for me?” You move to get a better look at him.

“Would it be embarrassing if I said yes?”

“Absolutely.” You grin, and he replies with a smile.

You stifle a yawn, and Joshua coos at you in a way that you would’ve found annoying—but now, your heart swells a little in your chest. He brushes away a few stray hairs from your face.

“Go to sleep,” he murmurs. “We’ll talk more in the morning.”

“Goodnight.” You nuzzle your face back into his chest.

“Goodnight.

Morning brings a bittersweet awakening. Despite Joshua’s confession, despite the night you shared together, you can’t bring yourself to stay with him. You know that it would only end with broken hearts and an even more awkward atmosphere at work. No, you can’t stay like this — Joshua’s arms around you, his soft snores, and his calm heartbeat, all make it too real.

You feel the weight of last night’s decisions as you quietly slip out of his embrace. He doesn’t wake up, he merely scrunches his nose and lazily pats the space on the bed to find you. When he doesn’t, he settles for a pillow that he embraces just as he had embraced you prior. Tears begin to sting your eyes, you can’t watch this any longer, and you leave without hesitation.

After changing and grabbing your purse from your room, you find Nari sitting in the kitchen on one of the barstools. She’s snickering to herself while she’s watching Vernon make breakfast– you’d never seen her let go of control in the kitchen before, and if it wasn’t for the fact that Joshua could wake up any moment you would’ve stayed and watched. She turns to you with a bright smile once you make yourself known by clearing your throat.

“Good morning!” she chirps, but her smile falters when she sees your wrecked expression. “Are you alright, Y/N?”

“I… I need you to drive me to the bus station.” You didn’t mean for your voice to become so shaky, but you couldn’t help it.

“Did something happen?” Vernon asks, but you can’t look at him.

“I just need to go home– I think I’m getting sick,” you lie.

“Oh, well if you just wait a minute, we can pack up and leave all together. I don’t mind leaving early if you’re feeling sick,” Nari says, compassionate as ever.

“No.” You look up at her, trying to silently communicate something with your eyes — what, you’re not really sure. “I need to leave now.”

Nari pauses, thinking it over before eventually nodding. Every second that passes feels like an hour to you, and your friend seems to be able to notice it. She says goodbye to Vernon, telling him to not burn the house down as she plants a kiss on his cheek. You want to throw up.

“I’ll get my jacket.” She grabs the car keys and walks out of the kitchen ahead of you. “Let’s go.”

The drive is silent, the air thick with unspoken words and the weight of emotions left unsaid. Nari understands your need for solitude, respecting your fragile state. The journey feels longer than it should, each passing mile echoing the uncertainty of what lies ahead.

At last, you arrive at the bus stop. She tells you that she’ll bring your bags for you when she and Vernon get back to the city. Before you can step out of the car, she puts a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s Joshua, isn’t it?” she asks and you nod. “Alright. I understand if you don’t want to talk about it… but know that I’ll back you up no matter what.”

With a soft murmur of thanks, you bid Nari farewell, watching her drive away into the distance. Alone at the bus stop, you wait for the bus that will take you back to the familiar confines of your life.

The sun rises higher in the sky, casting a warm glow that hints at new beginnings. As you board the bus, you carry with you the echoes of a night spent in each other’s arms. You sit down in one of the many empty seats, looking out the window to watch the trees fly by and the lake in the distance grow smaller and smaller.

Back at work, you find yourself actively avoiding Joshua, more so than before. Every morning, you arrive early at your desk, burying yourself in tasks and emails, hoping to avoid any unnecessary encounters that might stir up the unresolved emotions from your time at the lake house.

The tension between you and Joshua doesn't go unnoticed by your colleagues. They whisper about the shift in dynamics, speculating on the nature of your interactions and the underlying reasons for your distance. Despite their curiosity, no one dares to address the elephant in the room, leaving the unspoken tension to hang heavy in the air.

For you, avoidance isn't just about uncertainty in your feelings for Joshua; it's also about safeguarding your professional reputation and maintaining a sense of control over your emotions. Sleeping around with someone at the office – let alone, someone who’s under you in rank – is enough to stir up headache-inducing drama.

As the weeks pass, you remain resolute in your avoidance, navigating the delicate balance between personal desires and professional boundaries. The workplace becomes a battleground of unspoken words and missed opportunities, with both you and Joshua wondering if there's a way to reconcile the growing attraction with the realities of your professional lives.

Amidst the uncertainty, you and Joshua find yourselves at a crossroads, unsure of whether to pursue what could be or maintain the status quo. The aftermath of your intimate encounter at the lake house lingers.

When you hear the news of Nari moving in with Vernon, you’re ecstatic – and when you see his apartment, you’re in awe. The luxurious condo has two stories and although the loft area is smaller, it’s still impressive. You hadn’t ever thought to ask Vernon what he does for a living, but clearly, it pays well.

As Nari excitedly shows you around the apartment, your heart swells for her. This is all that she had wanted; she had a stable job and a stable relationship, and now one of the most impressive apartments you had ever seen. Once you have seen every crevice of the home, she invites you to a housewarming party that she’s hosting later tonight.

“Isn’t a housewarming party for people who move into a new place?” you ask with a smile.

“Well, yeah– but I’m moving into a new place, so it still counts!”

You laugh with her, congratulating her once again on her new place and promising her that you’ll definitely be there tonight. As you leave through the dining room, you spot a bouquet of lilies sitting pretty in a vase. The memories of yours and Vernon’s conversation bring back memories of the lake house; memories of Joshua. You paint on a smile as you say goodbye, promising to swing by later to help with preparations.

Nari’s excitement is contagious as she organizes a lively housewarming party. The space is adorned with cheerful decorations: vibrant streamers hanging from the ceiling, colorful balloons clustered in the corners, and a beautifully set table brimming with snacks and drinks. Friends gather, their chatter and laughter filling the room, ready to toast to the new chapter in Nari's life.

You arrive, trying to mask the unease lingering beneath the surface. You know that Joshua might be here – or might stop by for a moment, but that’s enough for you to go into full-on fight or flight mode. As you walk in, Nari greets you with a warm hug.

“I'm so glad you could make it!” Nari beams, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you reply, forcing a smile. Inside, though, your heart feels heavy.

As the party progresses, the merriment around you contrasts sharply with the turmoil within. You watch Nari and Vernon laughing together, their connection undeniable. Every affectionate glance they share feels like a knife twisting in your chest. Are you really about to lose your best friend to a friend of Joshua’s? Does he have to take everything from you? The unresolved tension with Joshua weighs heavily on your mind, clouding your judgment along with the many drinks you sneak from the kitchen.

You hate yourself for feeling this way, opting to stay in a corner of the living room to take a moment to breathe. However, the good friend that she is, Nari comes to check up on you.

“Are you alright? You’re not bored, right?” she asks.

“No, I’m fine.”

Your eyes are drawn to a sudden rising volume from the hallway, somebody just arrived. Joshua walks into the living room, still in his suit from work – he had probably been working overtime before he got here. He’s lively chatting away with Vernon, and you feel a clump building up in your chest. You swallow looking back at Nari, who looks as worried as ever.

“I’m just worried about you,” you admit.

“Worried about me?” She chuckles. “Why?”

“This thing with Vernon just seems to be moving too fast. Maybe you shouldn’t.” Your words are sharp as knives, and you can see how they cut through Nari’s bubbly personality.

“What are you talking about?” Nari furrows her eyebrows, her lips forming into a small pout as they always did when she was irritated.

“You’ve only known him for a few months–”

“Oh, so now you’re the expert on relationships? Why can’t you just be happy for me?”

“Because you’re not thinking straight!”

In a moment of emotional vulnerability, fueled by your own insecurities and the effects of a few too many drinks, you lash out at Nari. The noise of the party seems to fade as you focus on her, your voice rising.

“Be honest. Do you really think this is a good idea, Nari?” you blurt out, your words slurring slightly. “Moving in with Vernon so soon? You’re rushing into this without thinking!”

“Vernon and I are happy. This is what I want.”

“It’s not about what you want, it’s about what’s smart!” you snap, projecting your frustrations about your non-existent relationship with Joshua onto her newfound happiness. “You’re just setting yourself up for disappointment.”

The room falls silent, the party atmosphere dims as tension fills the space. Nari’s eyes well up with tears.

“I thought you were happy for me,” she says, her voice trembling. “Why are you being like this?”

Unable to contain your emotions, you storm out of the party, leaving behind a bewildered Nari and a gathering of uncomfortable guests. The weight of your actions settles heavily on your shoulders as you retreat into the night, grappling with regret and remorse for hurting your friend.

Alone in the quiet of the night, you reflect on the events that transpired. You realize that your anger towards Nari was misplaced, a manifestation of your own internal struggles rather than a reflection of her actions.

The guilt gnaws at you, urging you to confront the root of your insecurities and face the truths you've been avoiding. You walk as far as you can, which is just a block away before your feet start hurting from your heels. You huff over your uncomfortable shoes as you lean against a pole to try to take them off.

Concern etched on his face, Joshua steps out into the cool night air, searching for you. The city streets are bustling, but he spots you, slightly disoriented and clearly in need of assistance. Without hesitation, he approaches, gently guiding you with a steady hand. He makes you put your foot back down on the ground and bends down to fix the strap you had managed to loosen before he stands back up

“Hey, I’ve been looking for you. Are you okay?” Joshua asks, his voice is soft and concerned.

You’re surprised to see Joshua, a mix of relief and embarrassment washing over you as he helps steady your steps. Your mind races, trying to recall your address, but the fog of alcohol clouds your thoughts.

“I... I don’t know,” you mumble, your voice shaky. “I just yelled at my best friend about her perfect relationship, embarrassed myself in front of all of our friends, I’m cold and- and my fucking feet hurt!”

Tears begin to well up in your eyes, and Joshua reacts quickly by gently slipping off his suit jacket and draping it around your shoulders, providing warmth and comfort. Realizing the urgency of the moment, Joshua signals for a passing taxi and assists you as you climb into the back seat.

“What’s your address?” he asks.

However, over the drunken rambles and ugly sobs, he can’t hear a word that you’re saying. You wrap your arms around his bicep, pressing your forehead against his shoulder. You mumble something about just wanting to sleep. With a sigh, Joshua tells the driver his address and asks him to drive carefully.

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to arrive at his condo, as it was only a few blocks away. The warmth and familiarity offer a stark contrast to the chaotic night outside. He ensures you’re settled comfortably on the couch as he helps you off with your shoes. Joshua mutters something about getting you a glass of water, and you hum in response. A few seconds later, he’s back with a tall glass of water which he makes you drink in its entirety.

“There you go,” he murmurs. “Okay, let’s get you into something more comfortable.”

Joshua gently guides you deeper into his apartment, his hand steady and reassuring on your back. You stumble slightly, the room spinning around you as you struggle to stay upright. When you reach the bathroom, he helps you sit down on the toilet seat, his touch careful and considerate. The cool porcelain feels surprisingly comforting against your flushed skin, and you lean back, feeling a wave of relief as the spinning sensation subsides a little.

After a minute, Joshua returns, his presence a welcome anchor in the disorienting haze. He places a pile of clothes neatly by the sink, their crisp, clean fabric a stark contrast to the disarray you feel inside. Alongside them, he sets down a box of makeup wipes, their crisp packaging promising a small, fresh start. Without a word, he leaves you alone, allowing you the space to collect yourself.

Once you’re dressed and feeling a bit steadier, you step out of the bathroom. The sight of Joshua waiting for you, his expression a mix of concern and care, brings a pang of guilt. His eyes soften as he takes in your appearance, and he offers a supportive smile as he helps guide you to the bedroom.

The journey to his bed is slow and steady, his hand a constant, reassuring presence on your arm. As you settle into the softness of the bed, the comfort of the sheets and the warmth of the room contrast sharply with the turmoil still churning inside you.

“I’m sorry–” you start, but Joshua quickly hushes you.

“Just rest,” Joshua says gently. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

You nod, grateful for his kindness as you close your eyes, the events of the night replaying in your mind. The weight of your actions and the need to address your inner turmoil hang heavily, but for now, you allow yourself to be enveloped by the warmth and safety of Joshua’s care.

As morning light filters through unfamiliar surroundings, you stir awake, feeling disoriented and unsure of where you are. Panic momentarily sets in as you try to piece together the events of the previous night. Your mind races with fragmented memories, leaving you uncertain about who you spent the night with.

Just then, the door opens quietly, and Joshua steps into the room with a gentle smile. Your heart skips a beat as you see him, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Did you seriously sleep with Joshua for a second time in your drunken state? What did your drunk self have against your sanity?

“Morning,” Joshua says softly, his smile is warm but his eyes are filled with concern.

You sit up quickly, clutching the blanket to your chest. “Joshua, did we...?” you start, your voice trailing off in embarrassment.

He shakes his head, sensing your unease. “No, you slept in here,” he explains calmly, gesturing to the bed. “I took the couch to make sure you were comfortable.”

Relief floods you as you realize your assumption was wrong. “Oh, thank you,” you reply, nodding awkwardly, trying to collect yourself amidst the morning haze.

Joshua gives you a reassuring smile. “I made some breakfast. Why don't you join me in the kitchen?”

You follow Joshua with a mix of gratitude and lingering embarrassment, the weight of the previous night still heavy on your shoulders. As you enter his elegantly furnished kitchen, you’re struck by the refined simplicity of the space. The morning light filters softly through the windows, casting a warm, golden glow over the polished countertops and tasteful décor.

You sit across from Joshua at a beautifully set breakfast table. The gentle clinking of cutlery and the soft hum of the coffee maker are the only sounds that break the stillness of the calm morning.

As you begin to nibble on your food, your movements are tentative and slow, each bite a small effort to ground yourself. The flavors are comforting, but your mind is still tangled in the events of the night before. The tranquility of the kitchen contrasts sharply with the turmoil you feel inside, and you find yourself grappling with the lingering embarrassment while trying to process the events that led you here.

“How are you feeling?” Joshua asks, his voice gentle.

You sigh, looking down at your plate. “Honestly, a mess… I was so awful to Nari last night. I don’t know what came over me.”

Joshua leans forward, his expression attentive. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Although the situation was strange, you feel yourself fully able to talk to Joshua like this. The vulnerability in your voice is obvious as you begin to share your inner turmoil. “Seeing Nari so happy with Vernon just... it brought out all my insecurities. God– I hate myself for what I said to her.”

Joshua listens attentively, his presence a surprising comforting anchor amidst the storm of emotions. “We all have moments we're not proud of,” he says softly. “But recognizing them is the first step to making things right.”

You glance up, meeting his eyes. “I don't know how to fix this. I’ve hurt her, and I don't know if she’ll forgive me.”

“Give her some time,” Joshua advises. “And when you're ready, talk to her. Be honest about what you're going through. She'll understand.”

In the course of the conversation, there is a sense of relief and lightness as Joshua's empathetic and genuinely concerned responses provide reassurance. Yet, the enduring pain remains. The guilt for the actions towards Nari is now overshadowed by the guilt for the actions directed at Joshua.

“I’m sorry, Joshua,” you say. “I shouldn’t just have left.”

“You had your reasons.” Joshua lifts his coffee cup to his lips. “And I can’t say that I blame you– it was a little too much too fast. I told Vernon after you had left… you should’ve seen his face.”

The two of you break out into soft laughter, the tension between you slowly dissipating. The picture of Vernon’s shocked face is just too clear in your mind, and you end up letting out a snorting laugh. You both pause as you’re struck with embarrassment. When you look up at Joshua, you see a flash of opportunity glimmer in his eyes.

“Don’t,” you warn, but it’s too late.

Joshua struggled to stifle his laughter, but he couldn't help but emit a few chuckles. Under normal circumstances, you would have felt angry at his reaction. However, in the current situation, his amusement was contagious, and you found yourself unable to contain a smile.

“You know,” you say, “I’m actually glad you’re here. You’ve been more supportive than I could have asked for, and definitely more than I deserve.”

Joshua returns the smile, his eyes warm. “I’m just happy I could help.”

As the morning sun filters through the window, you find yourself sitting in the cozy intimacy of Joshua’s kitchen, sharing a heartfelt breakfast and conversation. In that tender moment, you feel a sense of clarity washing over you, marking a pivotal turning point in your relationship.

Realizing the weight of your words and actions from the previous night, you understand the need to mend fences with Nari. With a resolve fueled by introspection, you decide to take the first step toward reconciliation. You leave Joshua’s apartment to go back home, feeding Tofu and freshening up before you sit down on your bed with your phone in your hand.

Gathering your thoughts, you reach out to Nari, your fingers trembling slightly as you type a message on your phone.

Hey Nari, I really want to apologize for last night. Can we meet up? I’ll be at our usual spot at 3.

After a few moments that feel like an eternity, a reply comes through. It’s a simple “Sure,” but it’s more than enough for you. You breathe a sigh of relief and quickly agree. The hours until the meeting drags by, your mind racing with thoughts of how to articulate your heartfelt apology.

At the café, you arrive early and sit down by your usual table, nervously fiddling with your cup of coffee. You’re not sure if she’ll even show up, and you wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t, but she, nevertheless, walks in through the door. When Nari walks in, you wave her over, standing up to greet her. She offers a tentative smile, but the hurt is still evident in her eyes. The atmosphere between you is thick with tension as she sits down.

“Hi,” you start, your voice trembling slightly. “Thanks for coming.”

Nari nods curtly, her expression guarded. Taking a deep breath, you dive in. “I’m really sorry for what I said last night. I know I hurt you, and that was never my intention. I let my own frustrations and insecurities get the better of me, and I took it out on you. It wasn’t fair, and I deeply regret it.”

Nari’s eyes remain hard, but she listens quietly. The tension is still there, hanging heavily in the air.

“The… incident with Joshua freaked me out a lot– I hadn’t been able to get it off my mind, and the thought of seeing him at your party only made it worse,” you continue, your voice wavering. “I guess, seeing you so happy with Vernon made me scared. I projected my emotions onto your situation. I know it’s no excuse for what I said...”

Nari’s expression softens slightly, but she remains silent, contemplating your words.

“I really am sorry, Nari. You didn’t deserve any of that,” you add, your voice barely above a whisper.

Nari takes a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing a little. “I understand where you’re coming from,” she says finally, her tone gentle. “I should’ve thought about your situation with Joshua... and I appreciate you being honest with me about what you’re going through.”

The tension in the air begins to dissipate, replaced by a sense of tentative understanding. “We all have our moments. What matters is that we’re able to talk about it and move forward,” Nari continues, a small smile forming on her lips.

"So, you'll forgive me?"

Nari pretends to think for a moment, before breaking out into a big smile. "I'll forgive you."

A wave of relief washes over you as you hear her words. “Oh, thank you, Nari. I promise I’ll do better.”

Nari reaches across the table to squeeze your hand. “I know you will… also you owe me a coffee.”

You release a hearty laugh, then briskly make your way to the barista to request another cup of coffee. As you return to your seat, you notice Nari gazing at you with a look of worry etched into her gentle smile.

“Did you get home okay last night?” she asks.

“I… didn’t get home,” you admit.

“What? You didn’t sleep outside, did you?” Her eyes widen as she raises her voice ever so slightly.

“Actually…” You lean forward and lower your voice. “I ended up at Joshua’s place.”

“What?”

You quickly shush her, and she repeats her “What?” in a lower volume. You smile at her, and she raises her eyebrows in a silent question. You shake your head.

“He took me home and let me sleep in his bed– he even slept on the couch,” you say. “I think… I’ll try asking him out again.”

“Really?” Nari gasps but quiets down as her coffee arrives.

She thanks the barista and waits for him to be out of earshot before she lets out an excited “Oh my god!” The two of you quickly fall into your usual banter.

It had been a long, arduous day at work, and you were finally ready to head home. The rain pattered against the office windows, creating a soothing yet melancholic backdrop to your thoughts. You hadn’t spoken to Joshua since that morning in his kitchen, and the awkwardness between you lingered like an unspoken shadow.

As you gathered your things and made your way to the exit, you unexpectedly bumped into Joshua. His eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly composed himself.

“Hey,” he said softly, holding up his umbrella. “Looks like we’re leaving at the same time.”

“Yeah,” you replied, forcing a smile. “Didn’t realize it was raining this hard. I would’ve taken the car this morning if I’d known.”

“Here,” he offered, extending the umbrella. “You can use this. I’ll be fine.”

You hesitate but then nod. “Thanks… How about we share it? We’re both going the same way, right?”

Joshua smiles, a hint of relief in his eyes. “Sure, let’s go.”

The two of you walked in silence under the umbrella, the rain a steady rhythm around you. It felt strange yet comforting to be so close to him after everything that had happened. When you reached the bus stop, the awkwardness slowly began to dissipate.

On the bus, Joshua found seats for both of you and as the vehicle jolted into motion, he broke the silence. “So, how’s everything with Nari?”

You smiled, genuinely happy. “We’re good. We talked it out, and we’re fine again.”

Joshua’s face lit up. “I’m glad to hear that. I hope you two don’t have to go through something like that again.”

You chuckled, teasingly. “Well, that depends on whether you're going to keep messing around with me or not.”

He looked at you with a soft smile, a serious look in his eyes. “I don’t want to mess around anymore.”

The bus pulled to a stop near your apartment. As you both got off, the rain still coming down, Joshua turned to you. “Can I ask you something?”

You nodded, heart pounding in your chest.

“Would you go out with me if I asked?” he asked, sincerity in his eyes.

You smiled, feeling a rush of warmth. “Yes.”

“Good...” He smiled, approaching you and taking your hands in his. “Go out with me?”

“You can do better than that,” you tease and he lets out a chuckle.

“Can you give me the pleasure of taking you out this weekend, sweetheart?” he asks again with a playful smile.

“Sure you can.”

It was still raining and there was no sign of stopping. You knew that if you went separate ways now, he’d give you his umbrella. Not wanting to be the cause of his cold, you invited him to your place. “Why don’t you come to my place and dry off? It’s just around the corner.”

The two of you walk under Joshua’s umbrella together, your shoulders brushing against each other. You speak of whatever comes to mind, mostly work and the cases you’re currently busy with – although the subject matter is something you usually keep at work, you don’t mind the banter.

When you arrive at your apartment, you open the door for Joshua as he shakes off the rain from his umbrella. The two of you get into the elevator, a tension building up that is unlike the ones you had felt before. Excitement is the only word you can use to describe it.

The building is tall, and you live far up, so the elevator takes its time to climb up the floors. Joshua stands next to you, his hand brushing against yours for a while. He takes it in his hand once the elevator doors open and lets you lead the way to your front door. His hand is warm in yours, sending a shiver down your spine.

You only let go of his hand once the two of you stand in front of your door. Unable to keep his hands off of you for long, Joshua wraps his arms around your waist while you try to unlock your door. You let out a giggle, so unlike the laughs you have let out before that, you barely recognize it as your own, while your shaky hands struggle with the lock. When you finally open the door, you immediately spot a white, furry ball. Tofu meows at you, clearly annoyed with your late arrival.

“A cat.” Joshua’s voice is laced with surprise as he lets go of you.

You walk further into your apartment to pet Tofu, but he quickly sneaks past you and struts over to Joshua. He closes the door behind him quickly, scared that Tofu might walk out. Tofu has no interest in the outside, instead, he walks between Joshua’s legs and purrs.

“I thought I’d end up single for the rest of my life and decided to start early with the cats,” you quip playfully. “Tofu… really likes you.”

“Is that odd?” Joshua squats down and puts out his hand for Tofu to sniff.

“He doesn’t like strangers…” you say, “Or anyone.”

Joshua grins at you as Tofu practically jumps into his arms. He stands back up with the cat in his embrace before he kicks off his shoes. You glare at your cat for betraying you, but Tofu barely meets your gaze.

“He’s cute,” Joshua says. “... and hairy.”

You look at Joshua’s black suit, completely covered in white fur. Quickly, you apologize and take Tofu from him. The cat lets out an irritated meow but doesn’t fight back. When Tofu has walked away, you take Joshua’s suit jacket and hang it up. You show him around the apartment, sneaking glances at him as he rolls up the sleeves of his button-down and loosens his tie.

Eventually, the two of you found yourselves on the comfortable couch, indulging in a late-night meal created from the delicious remnants of takeout food in your refrigerator. The ambiance was soothing and unhurried, a welcome change from the earlier palpable strain. Tofu was nestled by Joshua’s side, emitting a robust and consistent purr akin to a well-oiled machine working at full capacity.

Joshua looked around your cozy apartment and then back at you. “This isn’t our first date, is it?”

You laughed softly. “It could be.”

He shook his head, smiling. “I want our first date to be special.”

You looked into his eyes, leaning over to put your hand on his knee. “It could be special if you wanted it to be.”

That’s how the two of you end up in your bedroom, with him on top of you. Joshua’s slowly thrusting into you, savoring every second. His forehead leans against yours, your hands traveling across each other’s bodies. Soft moans and gasps echo throughout the room, the noises mixing with the sounds of the bedsheets and the gentle rain against your windows.

“What are you doing to me?” Joshua sighs deeply, closing his eyes as if trying to steady himself.

“Is it really just me?” you ask playfully, although your voice tinged with uncertainty.

“It’s only you,” he reassures, his gaze meeting yours with a sincerity that cuts through the confusion.

You smile, pressing a chaste kiss on his lips. He surrounds you, embraces you, holds you, consumes you… The build-up is undeniable, and it only becomes more intense as Joshua’s hand travels between your bodies to rub lazy circles on your clit. He captures your lips in another kiss, slow and satisfactory. Whines and whimpers emanate from both of you as you near your high.

“I’m still on birth control,” you remind Joshua with a murmur against his lips.

Joshua groans at the silent promise of getting to cum inside you again. Ever since the last time he got a taste of you, he swears that he’s addicted. His hips stutter, and you clench around him to urge him closer to his release.

“Please,” he whispers hoarsely.

“Cum with me, baby,” you murmur.

Joshua releases inside of you with a moan, and your orgasm follows shortly after. A light encompasses you, flooding your veins with a kind of warmth that you’re not sure you’ve ever experienced. He stays inside of you even when his movements stop, his head finding its place in the crook of your neck. You rake your nails up his back until they find their way to the nape of his neck.

You press a kiss to his temple while you play with his hair. Joshua responds by pressing loving kisses to your neck. The two of you fall asleep just as he pulls out of you and lies down beside you under the covers.

As the gentle, golden glow of the morning sun filters through the delicate lace curtains, you slowly stir, feeling the warmth of his body and the reassuring strength of his embrace. In that soft, hushed moment, you find yourself waking up to a sense of peace and contentment that has been absent for what feels like an eternity.

As you try to get up to make breakfast, Joshua tightens his hold on you. “Don’t go,” he murmurs, his voice still heavy with sleep.

You laugh softly, kissing his forehead. “I need to get ready.”

He pouts playfully. “Stay here a little longer.”

You kiss him again, your heart full. “How about I get up if I promise to make you breakfast?”

Joshua pretends to think it over, then grins. “Deal.”

Your laughter fills the air as you rise from the bed, his warm hand gently holding onto yours just a moment longer. The morning was idyllic, brimming with shared laughter, precious moments, and the assurance of many more beautiful experiences together in the future.

As you and Joshua continue to move forward together, your journey unfolds as a delicate dance, intertwining professional ambitions with the deepening of your personal connection. Each day brings its own set of challenges, which you navigate hand-in-hand, discovering and growing through each other’s strengths and vulnerabilities.

You find solace in the way you support one another through the ebb and flow of your careers. Joshua’s unwavering faith in your potential becomes a beacon, encouraging you to reach beyond your comfort zone. In moments of self-doubt, his reassuring words and confident smile serve as a reminder of your capabilities, helping to reignite your determination.

In turn, you offer Joshua a steady anchor during his more tumultuous times. When he faces the pressure of a particularly grueling project or grapples with a professional setback, you’re there to remind him to pause and believe in his own strength. Your quiet support helps him regain his footing, providing him with the confidence to overcome the hurdles in his path.

With each shared success and challenge, your mutual respect grows deeper. Celebrating each other’s victories becomes a treasured ritual, whether it’s the joy of popping a bottle of champagne for a well-earned promotion or finding solace in each other’s company during quiet nights when things don’t go as planned. Every experience strengthens your bond, seamlessly weaving your lives together.

As you reflect on your journey, it becomes clear that embracing vulnerability and letting go of old insecurities has allowed you to discover not only love but also a profound sense of personal fulfillment. Joshua’s presence in your life has illuminated the truth that true growth often emerges from facing fears and embracing new possibilities.

One evening, curled up on the couch with Tofu nestled comfortably by your feet, you admit with a contented sigh, “I never thought I could be this happy.”

Joshua smiles warmly, his fingers gently brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. With a playful glint in his eye, he teases, “I know a few things that could make you even happier.”

“Shut up,” you reply, playfully swatting his chest.

Joshua’s laughter fills the room as he pulls you closer, enveloping you in his comforting embrace. You sigh contentedly as his familiar scent surrounds you, finding comfort in the perfect harmony of the moment. Even though you still have your moments of bickering and face the occasional rough patch like any other couple, you realize that this shared experience is as perfect as it gets.

feedback is always appreciated!

taglist: @enhacolor, @shuabby1994, @junhui-recs, @dkakapizzaboy, @just-here-to-read-01, @loviehan, @userjunhuii, @novalpha, @bubblymoon, @aaniag, @d0nghyuck, @fantasy2wonderland, @seunghancore, @woozixo, @niktwazny303, @lllucere, @uniq-tastic, @wonwoospartyhat, @stariightjoyy, @hyneyedfiz, @cali-snow, @crazywittysassy, @yeosayang, @wonuvs, @dokyeomkyeom, @kyeomiis, @gyuguys, @notevenheretbh1

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freedomfireflies · 7 months ago

Text

Remember Me*

Summary: The one where you and your best friend, Harry, reminisce over the first time he ever ate you out.

Word Count: 3.1k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, brief daddy kink, mention of knife kink + blood kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, pre-consented somnophilia, not suitable for Ramadan!

“There you go, good girl. Just like that. Cum for me, Bee. Right now.”

You squirm, fingers curling into the silky sheets below as you suck in a quiet breath.

You can feel his lips on your neck. Your chest. Your inner thighs. Soft, gentle, devious. He’s everywhere. Purring in your ear, holding your hips in his hands. Keeping you just where he wants you like you’re nothing but a toy for him to play with.

You’ve never been so close. So satisfied, so pleasured. So ready to let go.

And then…you wake up.

Your lashes flutter as you slowly come to. The bedroom is dark. Still. You can hear the fan in the corner of the room and Harry’s soft inhales from somewhere beside you. Your heart is thumping hard and heavy against your ribcage while your dream slowly dissipates into reality. Disappearing into the back of your mind as you remind yourself where you really are.

And then you realize that Harry’s not beside you but below you. His breathing louder and heavier than it was before.

You look down.

And there he is, large body settled between your spread thighs as he holds you open and stares lovingly at the mess you’ve made.

And suddenly, your dream doesn’t feel so distant as you blink the sleep from your eyes and whisper, “Har?”

He glances up, pretty green eyes somehow bright even in the dark. He smiles and his lips glisten. “Hi, baby. Were you having a nice dream?”

You take in a sharp inhale and nod once. “Ye—yeah.”

“Good.” He dips down to kiss your hip. “Hope I didn’t ruin it for you.”

“No…no, I just…I…I thought I was…”

“I know,” he murmurs and kisses the other side. “I know, Bee. And you need me to fix it, don’t you?”

You blink.

“Kept whimpering for me,” he says. His palms dance down the side of your body. Squeezing lightly as though to reassure you. “Begging me to make you cum…to touch you…taste you. Said you needed my tongue.”

Your chest feels heavy as you watch him ghost his mouth up your stomach.

“And I wanted to help,” he tells you. “Wanted to make it better for you.”

He stops, but only to look up and find you again.

“Is that all right, sweet girl?” he whispers.

You nod quickly. After all, the two of you made an agreement months ago that waking each other up with sex was more than all right. You don’t do it too terribly often, but the times when you do…

You almost start to pant.

“Good,” he says, grinning once more as he runs his thumb along your aching cunt. “But I want you to do something for me, yeah?”

“Yeah…”

He moves his mouth to your inner thigh. “Want you…” He travels up your skin toward your pussy. “To tell me…” He brushes his lips over your clit. “What you were dreaming about.”

You feel yourself start to squirm, the warmth of his breath over your cunt enough to send shivers along your spine. “I…I was dreaming about you.”

“Yeah? Better have been,” he teases with a smirk. “What was I doing, hm?”

You watch him poke out his tongue and tease it near your hole. “You…you were doing this.”

He hums. “Was I?”

You nod. “Just…just like you did the first time.”

His eyes flick back to yours. “The first time, hm? When I asked to taste your pretty pussy?”

Another nod.

“Mm.” He shifts a bit on the bed and pushes your legs further apart. “Do you think about that first time a lot, Bee?”

You feel your heart skip. “Yes…”

“Think about how nice you were to let me practice on you?”

“…yes.”

“Cause you were,” he says softly between kisses to your cunt. Not enough to satisfy you, but more than enough to taunt you. “So nice and so sweet for me. Knew I’d never wanna taste anybody else but you for the rest of my life.”

You smile. “No, you didn’t.”

“I did,” he argues. He sucks your clit into his mouth. “Come on, lovie, you had to know I didn’t really want her. Only ever wanted you.”

Your fingers lace through his hair, and he hums. “You knew even back then?”

“Of course.” He rests his cheek on your thigh, gazing at your pussy almost as though in a trance. “Should have known I’d get addicted. I already was, even if I didn’t realize it yet.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm.” He starts to pull you open, just to watch the way you clench around nothing. “I’d been addicted to you for years. Just didn’t know why.”

“And eating me out helped with that?”

He chuckles. “Kind of. I really did think I was doing it for Tina, but…the second I saw you, all spread out and dripping…I couldn’t have picked her out of a fucking lineup.”

You squeeze his scalp. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I mean it.” He studies your expression closely. “Bee, I’m so goddamn in love with you it makes my chest hurt. I was in love with you then and I’m in love with you now. Why do you think I kept canceling on her? Why do you think I kept begging you to teach me more things?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “Cause you were horny?”

“No,” he exhales and then kisses your pussy again, groaning into you as though he’s a man starved. “No, I was fucking obsessed. And I still am.”

You whimper.

“So, I want you to tell me everything I did in your dream,” he says, his touch growing a bit greedier now as he slips his middle finger inside. “Every little thing you wanted me to do.”

You arch from the bed and try to stay still. You’re not sure how long he’s been teasing you, but it feels far longer than your dream. And you’re already shaking with anticipation as you clutch his curls and say, “You…you were touching me.”

He grins. “How, lovie?”

You reach for his hand and pull it up toward your chest. “Like this,” you pant, and he groans so lewdly, you nearly cum right then.

He squeezes your tit in his palm, kneading it between those long, nimble fingers before he pinches your nipple tight. Eliciting another noise from your throat. And you’ve never been so glad you went to bed without pajamas.

“Like this?” he asks.

You nod before you’re leading him up toward your throat. “And like this…”

You make him squeeze the sides of your neck until your eyes have nearly rolled back. He holds you gently, but with just enough pressure to make your head pound in the absolute best way.

“Yeah?” He crawls a bit higher up your body in order to get a better grip. “I remember the first time you made me choke you. Such an insatiable little thing, weren’t you?”

“Still am,” you quip, sticking out your tongue.

His smile is sadistic as he spits directly onto your tongue and squeezes your jaw shut. “Swallow.”

You do. And the taste of him—of you—is magic. Enough to have you grinding yourself against his bent leg that’s snuggled between your thighs. And he notices, but he does nothing to help you.

“What else?” he asks between desperate kisses. “Huh? What else did my dirty girl want?”

“Your cock,” you whisper. “Wanted your cock so bad, Har. Wanted you to fuck me like you did that first time. Wanted to ride you…see your handsome face when you came.”

“Yeah? Wanted to cut me up all pretty like you did with that knife?”

You pout. “I didn’t cut you up. I just wanted to see it on your cheek.”

He laughs against your shoulder, and you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach. “Still can’t believe you have a knife kink. And a blood kink.”

“I still can’t believe you do, too.”

“Can’t help it. You just look so pretty in red,” he says easily. “Always have. Skin all sensitive and swollen…lips just begging to be bit…blood that looks so beautiful smeared across your chest—”

You grab onto his cheeks and bring his mouth back to yours. Kissing him so hard, he can’t speak. The image in your head is lewd and delicious and you feel his cock twitch against your hip as his body melts into yours.

“Bee,” he warns after a moment. “Bee, this isn’t about me. This is about you, come on—”

“I will. After you cum first,” you insist, reaching down between you to squeeze his tip. “My dream wasn’t just about me.”

His exhale is shaky as he closes his eyes. “Thought we were recreating the first time I ate you out?”

“Why can’t we do both?” you ask, nipping at his earlobe. “You really think I wasn’t imagining what your cock felt like as I watched you? Even back then?”

You feel his wicked grin against your cheek. “Were you?”

“How could I not? You weren’t the only one with a crush.”

He leans back. “You did not have a crush on me.”

“Yes, I did. How do you know?”

“Because you were still hung up on Eric,” he retorts as he moves down your body, returning to his previous position while you watch him go with a frown. “And I was just a convenient distraction.”

“No,” you snort, grasping onto his chin to recapture his attention. He looks at you. “Harry, you were not a distraction. Eric was the distraction. I made myself get over you by getting under him.”

He pulls his lip between his teeth, but it can’t hide his smirk. “Really?”

“Duh. You asking me to teach you was the best thing that ever happened to me. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You gaze at him gently and cup his jaw. “Please don’t forget that.”

The tension between you is palpable but loving, and you giggle when he sucks your thumb into his mouth with a wink.

“Then can you let me recreate the best thing that’s ever happened to you?” he mumbles around your finger. “Because it was the best thing that ever happened to me, and I still haven’t gotten a proper taste.”

You swipe your wet digit over his lips and grin. “Then you better get to it.”

So, he does. After all, Harry is nothing if not obedient and you can’t help but feel a touch proud as he kisses his way down your body until those greedy kisses find your cunt.

He knows exactly what you like. Knows how to hold you, tease you, taste you. He flicks you with the tip of his tongue and pulls you open with his fingers. He groans every time you gasp and swallows like he’s never had a drink in his life.

And then…he blows on you. Lets his warm exhale dance across your drenched pussy until you nearly squirm away altogether. You feel as though you’re being edged. Like he’s denying you the only thing you need and you whine helplessly as you plead with him.

He merely shushes you. “You know better, Bee. Come on.”

You shake your head violently. “I can’t…can’t, Har, please—”

He spanks you. A sharp smack of his palm down your clit. “You fucking rush me and I won’t let you cum at all. Is that what you want, sweet girl?”

“…no, Daddy.”

“No, I didn’t think so. So what are you gonna do?”

“…whatever you tell me.”

He hums, wildly pleased. “Good fucking girl.”

It’s masterful the way he sucks and nips and thrusts. A combination of his fingers and his tongue that bring you closer with every curl. Because after all this time, he knows your body. He’s had a year to learn you and love you. The way you taste, the way you sound, the way you feel. He knows exactly how to treat you and my god does he treat you right.

“H,” you gasp as you reach for his hair. Clutching onto those soft curls for dear life as your legs squeeze the side of his head. “Shit, Har…I’m…”

“You looked just like this when I first tasted you,” he mumbles against your cunt. “You had this cute little fucked-out expression on your face…kept biting your lip and wrinkling your nose. Like you were scared to enjoy it.”

“Wasn’t…wasn’t scared,” you huff, but you know he’s right. “I was just trying to help you learn.”

“Mhm.” He swipes his tongue up the length of you, from hole to hole. “Loved getting to see you so vulnerable for me. And you were so eager to let me. Practically yanked me into you.”

“I did not. Not until we got that collar and leash, anyway.”

His lips pull back with a Cheshire-like grin. Another fond memory. “Speaking of, we should dig that out again. Don’t think we’ve gotten enough use out of it.”

“I agree.”

“Good.” He slaps your clit once more before spitting on it and spreading it around. “Maybe I should make you watch your dirty little videos, too.”

Your chest begins to heave. “Maybe…you should.”

“Maybe I will.” And just like that, he slips three fingers into your quivering cunt.

But the moment he reaches his knuckles and flicks his tongue, it’s over. You gasp, whine, shake. Tremble in his hands and against his tongue before you’re collapsing onto the mattress with the sounds of his grunted praise in your ear.

“Fucking shit, Bee,” you vaguely hear as he pushes your folded legs closer to your chest. “God, I fucking love it when you do that.”

And somehow, through the orgasmic haze, you realize you’ve squirted. Something else you don’t tend to do that often. But when you do…

“Shit,” he says again before burying himself back in the mess. Almost as though he means to breathe it into his lungs. He kisses it, licks it, indulges in it. Takes every last drop for himself, despite the way you whimper. “M’sorry, lovie. Just can’t help it. S’my favorite.”

And you can feel a second one already barreling toward you. You're far more sensitive now and it almost hurts to have him continue. But you know he wants a second one. Know he needs a second orgasm out of you and you're powerless to deny him.

He brushes his touch through your folds and pulls you apart just to look at you. Watching your body spasm with pleasure as your hole flutters around the emptiness where his fingers used to be.

"Harry," you plead, a pitiful mewl.

He dives in. Licking and licking and licking like you're a popsicle on a hot day. He teases your opening with his tongue before smoothing it back up. Again and again, he tastes you. Until your cheeks are stained with tears and your body unravels once more.

When you cum, time stops. You bite on your lip so hard, you draw blood. The metallic taste filling your mouth as you push him back and wiggle away from his ministrations. Nearly sobbing from the painfully beautiful overstimulation.

He laughs lightly but does allow you to rest. Pulling himself up until he can place his head on your chest and settle in your arms. “Shh. You're all right, sweet girl. I've got you. It's okay."

You only whimper.

He peppers kisses across your face until your hiccups subside. His touch is much gentler now and he spends the next few minutes speaking softly and bringing you back down to earth. Doing everything he can to remind you that he's got you. Always.

"I'm proud of you," he finally says. "So fucking proud of you, Bee. Do you know that?"

You sniffle. "Really?"

“Mhm. And not just for squirting. For everything. All the time. The way you carry yourself. The way you love your friends. The way you love me.” He nuzzles his nose into your neck. “I’m so lucky to be loved by you.”

You swallow around the lump in your throat. “Well, I’m so lucky to love you.”

A tender beat passes. Then, he whispers, “Do you think you’d ever wanna get married?”

Just like that, your heart stops. You hope he can’t hear it. “Um…I don’t know. Would you?”

“Probably. Only to you, though.”

“Oh…that’s good.”

He glances up. “I’m not proposing. I mean, not right now. Not like this, I just...I don’t know. I thought I’d see if you…even wanted to marry someone like me.”

“Someone like you?”

He shrugs and looks back down. “Yeah. I don’t know. I’m not sure I’d be very good husband material.”

Your expression drops. “Harry,” you whisper, dipping down to press your lips to his temple. “You’d be the best husband in the world. No matter the material you’re made of.”

He chuckles again. “Think if we did get married, my parents would have a heart attack.”

“What? Why?”

“They fucking love you. They’ve been trying to get me to ask you out since we were kids.”

“Shut up, no they have not.”

“M’serious. When I told them we started dating, I swear to God my mom sent me like twenty links to engagement rings ‘just in case.’”

You laugh now, too. “She’s so cute. I’m gonna have the greatest in-laws.”

And for some reason, this makes him smile bigger than he has all evening.

The two of you stay like this for what feels like hours. Snug in each other’s embrace, his heart against yours. And you realize that this is where you were always meant to be. Right here, in this bed with him. From the moment the two of you met all those years ago, he was your Harry. And everything after has merely led you to this moment with him.

You often think about that fateful afternoon when he waltzed into your apartment and asked if he could eat you out. You wonder what would have happened if you’d said no. Could you have been okay with seeing him and Tina? Would you have patched things up with Eric, just to distract yourself?

But then you realize, you don’t want to imagine a world where you rejected him. It was a strange twist of destiny that you brought you and Harry together that day. In a position you never thought you'd be in. But if he hadn't, you'd have never known a happiness like this. A peace like this.

You’d never know him. The real him.

You don’t care if he proposes or not. You don’t care what your future looks like. As long as it’s with him, you’ll feel fulfilled. Happy and content in a way you never thought possible.

And the best part is…you know he feels the same.

By the time you start to feel tired again, it’s nearly morning. Soft streams of sunlight are already dancing through your bedroom window, illuminating the beautiful curve of his back. Glistening through his disheveled curls like a heavenly halo.

It nearly takes your breath away.

You count his freckles and moles like stars in the sky. Run your fingers along his shoulders and spine until he snuggles even closer. You've never felt so lucky to behold someone so beautiful.

However, just before your eyes can flutter shut and allow you to finally find a bit more sleep, your phone buzzes.

Confused, you both turn toward the nightstand where the vibration is coming from before you reach for the device plugged into the wall.

“Who is it?” Harry asks sleepily as he nuzzles his way back into your neck.

You read over the message.

And your stomach drops.

“It’s…”

“What?”

“Um…”

"What?"

You say nothing. Can't. You reread the text three more times in an effort to stall and create some sort of explanation.

But your silence piques his curiosity, and he eventually glances up. "Bee? What's wrong?"

Your pulse starts to race. Your palms start to sweat. And even though you know you have nothing to be afraid of, you take in a stuttered breath.

“It’s…Eric,” you say slowly.

And just like that…the tender moment is over.

Harry sits up, expression hard and unforgiving as he waits for the rest.

And you’re almost afraid to give it to him.

“…he wants to meet.”

I cannot believe it's been one year since the story that changed my life 🥹 And I can't thank you guys enough for what you've done for me!!! It was such a silly little story that I was sure wouldn't do very well, but introduced me to so many amazing people and gave me such a new found love for writing!!!

Thank you for being here and supporting me and Harry and Bee for a whole year now!!! I'm actually going to sob 🥹💞💞 ILY GUYS SO SO MUCH!!!

~ Full Teach Me Masterlist

Amazing credit for the beautiful dividers to @firefly-graphics 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @laelamarley @myalovesharry @allthelovehes @straightnogayhs @adoringhrry @harrysxcarolina @lillefroe @avasversion @harrysgf01 @lexiecamposv @spinningoutwaiting4ya @vyctorya @thiyaabs @buckybarnessimpp @whoreforjamesbuckybarnes @cherryluvhobi @mybabyh @wolfmoonmusic @wandasbae616 @imavirginhoe @nuggetdean @itsmytimetoodream @floral-recs

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millerscoffee · 1 year ago

Note

Hello!! 🤍 I was wondering if you could write something where Joel is the reader’s college professor, and then Prof. Miller INSISTS that reader comes over to his home for tutoring assistance, (because of failed tests or bad essays), and then finally coaxes her into letting him have his way with her.

hi nonnie! here it is! i hope you enjoy 💖

extra credit

6.2k | joel miller x afab!reader (professor!joel au)

rating: 18+ MDNI

warning: professor!joel au, age gap (joel is 46, reader is 21), soft!dom joel, pining, consensual sex, pet names (darlin', doll, baby), oral (f receiving), face riding, fingering, piv (unprotected, wrap it folks), squirting, joel spitting over the reader's ass for 0.5 seconds (OOPS IDK???), a pretty dress with easy access, hints of after care, spoiler: honestly prof. miller could've told reader to just do the paper in a different format but – that's the point 🤭

When you picked your major, English was a necessary credit needed to achieve your goals. It wasn’t your strong suit, but you weren’t one to quit just because you were bad at it. So far you were coasting through, getting a mix of good and bad grades in your English Lit class when the last essay before finals was presented.

Among the crowd in Professor Miller’s lecture hall, you typically sat in the front. He hands out papers, hovering by your desk. Giving you a look of disapproval, he places the grade face down. You peel the pages in anticipation, a sense of dread falling over you when you scan the big, red mark of failings. “Shit,” you say to yourself. That was it. That was the grade that was the defining factor of whether or not you had to retake this course. You use the side of your hand to wipe sneaky tears in falling. You failed. Doing your best to keep it together, you’re not sure you even heard the rest of the lecture from the possibilities running through your mind. What were you to do? How would you recover?

Class was over before you knew it. The sounds of bags zipping and feet stepping, you stayed seated until you were able to look over to Professor Miller. Dressed in black slacks, a brown button-up with leather shoes. His hair was slick, the slightest bit of salt and pepper patched at his sideburns. He looked like he had it all figured out, and that struck a nerve. A feeling of jealousy that he knew what he was doing, and you obviously did not.

Professor Miller calls your name when the class is emptied, and you sniffle, standing up to straighten your skirt. Your manicured nails pick up your essay as you walk over in an attempt to hand it to him. “I guess you want this back,” you hold your full bottom lip between your teeth.

“Did you read the material?” Professor Miller inquires, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. His voice is so dark and honied in comparison to his scowl. Proving not to judge a book by its cover. The irony.

“Well, I did, but… I struggle with this stuff. Predicates and imagery? I’d rather be learning about biology. But I need this course, you know. And I…,” you swallow hard. God, the last thing you want is to embarrass yourself in front of your teacher. He doesn’t know you, out of the hundreds of people he teaches – how could he possibly even remember your name?

“Hey,” Professor Miller takes his glasses off, putting them on the table. He looks as concerned as you are over it and crosses his arms. Keeps his distance. “It happens, you know. There are things we can do to accommodate. You’re very bright, I’d hate to see you fail. You have options. I can’t let you rewrite the paper, but I could tutor you for your final. Another option is getting a student tutor, but it’s rare. You know the workload of this university. Not a lot of people are willing to sacrifice their precious time.”

“And you are?” You look up at him with grateful, bright eyes and he loves it. The praise just from your stare alone is cause for him to clear his throat.

“Listen, for someone like you, I believe it is important to help. You just need a little more time understanding what you’re doing, is all. I’m not in my office for the rest of the weekend, though. You’d have to come by my house…,” he watches those pretty eyes widen again, and that makes a smirk fall over his greying features, “if that’s okay, of course. If it’s not, we could work something else out.”

You think about it. You’ve never had a teacher invite you over, much less someone who looked the way he did. Though, that was neither here nor there. His lips formed words you couldn’t even pay attention half the time in hearing. Maybe that was part of the reason why you were failing in the first place. But you needed to pass, and if he could help you – and was so kind enough to do it in the first place, you should jump at the first opportunity.

“Okay. Is there a particular time you’d like me to be there?”

“Are you busy tonight?”

What the fuck. That makes your heart race. Tonight? Tonight?! Ton–

“Tonight… tonight is good.” How did you even form the words?

“Perfect,” he started, bending down to write his address on a sticky note – his cologne wafts in your direction, and you clamp your legs shut reflexively. “Here’s my address. 7 o’clock.”

“Seven. Okay… thank you, Professor Miller.”

“Please, call me Joel.” His teeth gleamed in a smile, and his personality shined through it.

A personality you didn’t get to see too often from your position behind a desk.

Shit.

---

According to your phone, he didn’t live very far from campus, and you were able to walk to his house without breaking too much of a sweat. You decided on a black dress, although it was a casual one, that paired nicely with your sneakers. It had buttons down the front with a relaxed collar. Your bag slung over your shoulder when you knocked on his door, a nervousness fluttering in your stomach. It was such a weird thing, meeting your professor in his home. Much less having him request you call him by his first name.

Your knees all but buckled when you saw him on the other side of the door.

He looks… young in his jeans. His t-shirt stretched over the broadness of his shoulders, but it’s still loose enough that it doesn’t look ill-fitted. His stomach, soft at the bottom. You flash him a smile, but internally you’re reeling over how casual he looks. You’d never seen him like this, not even during those school meetings that were informal.

“Hey, you,” he’s bright, too. Charismatic as he invites you into his home. Takes your bag, lets you take your shoes off until you’re in your socks. His words hit your stomach, how easy it is for him to talk to you like you’re the brightest sunflower. What’d you even do to deserve it?

“Hi, Prof– uh, Joel,” you titter, taking in the curated decor of his home. It was sophisticated, yet a little cheesy at the same time. His alumni cover his walls and a mix of pictures. Some with a couple of young girls you assumed were his children. He has children, you swallow.

“Wasn’t too hard to find this place, right? When I moved here, I wanted to make sure I wasn’t too far – not much of a mornin’ person,” Joel laughs and you do, too. Fuck, this feels so easy. But it’s nothing – it’s nothing.

What you don’t pick up on right away is his open body language. He places your bag on his couch and you follow him like a puppy – he likes that. You look so soft under the sienna hue of his lights, your hair falling into place naturally. Plump and ripe for the taking. Of course, he meant it when he said he’d tutor you, but the air got thick the moment the door was shut behind the two of you. What were you doing to him?

Joel’s large frame walks over to his bar cart, turning on his heel to face you, “Interested?”

“Huh?” You blink and he laughs again at your deer caught in the headlights expression. You’re cute.

“Do you drink?”

“Oh, uh… water would be nice.”

“Water it is,” Joel’s pleasant, gesturing his hand for you to follow him. And you do – that puppy he was coming to know, right to his kitchen. You study the marble countertops, the farmhouse style kitchen sink.

“So, tutoring,” he starts, taking a glass from the cupboard, he fills it with filtered water before handing it to you – you thank him with a nod, “I was thinking we could look at your paper, and then go over how to fix things in the future?” When you take the water from him, your fingers graze. The first sign of contact, your head continues to nod unthinkingly, but all that scorches your mind is how his skin feels.

“That sounds good,” you overcompensate, shoving the ideas from your mind. He was your teacher, and it was easy to get back into the mode of why you were here.

Joel’s expression doesn’t change much, still the same grin with hooded eyes and wrinkles at his forehead. The two lines between his brow. “Alright, well I have it on the coffee table. Let’s get settled on the couch, and we’ll get started, okay?”

So you agree. You take your glass of water and follow him back to the couch where everything was set up – your paper, his laptop. All of the correction marks in your face as you sit down. You take another sip of water before placing it down on the coaster. You dread it, you really do. Going over your failures? You scrunch your nose up to yourself, but Joel notices when you’re both settled on the cushions.

“You know, Voltaire said, ‘perfect is the enemy of good’,” Joel bends his knee on the couch, thigh pressing into the cushion to turn to you and it causes the couch to shift. The quote makes you giggle a little to yourself, and you shake your head. “What?” His eyebrow quirks in curiosity.

“Voltaire also popularised the story of Newton’s apple, doesn’t make it true.”

“Huh…,” Joel trailed off, keeping his eye on you – his tongue skating over his bottom lip in thought. You were so quick all he could really do was laugh, and that made your shoulders relax. Makes you feel more in control and comfortable to laugh at yourself. “You got an answer for everything?”

“Not everything. See this,” you pick up your paper, thumbing over the ink of corrections the man on the couch made and you shrug, “I don’t really understand why this got marked wrong.” Joel’s gaze flashes over your mouth when your teeth press into the plushness of your bottom lip – he should be given some damn award for having so much self control around you.

“Wrong format. This citation works for your research papers, right?” He nods with you before leaning in closer, that damn cologne coming back in full force just like earlier in the day. You all but freeze when his warm touch graces you again – this time, fingers tracing over where you’re holding the paper. “Oh,” your voice is soft, a bit of disappointment pangs at your ribs. You were so busy you didn’t even realise that was the majority of the issues you had.

“So… it’s not really what I wrote, it’s how I wrote it? You asked if I read the material?”

“Exactly. If you read the syllabus, you’d see the required format. Listen, there are some ways for extra credit, I do think this is salvageable.”

You suddenly feel silly.

You did all that work, Professor Miller was kind enough to let you into his home, and it was all for some redundant formatting. An open palm curls over your chin as you look at the paper in deep contemplation.

“I really fucked up,” you say, hushed in the space.

“You didn’t fuck anything up,” you manage an exhale of amusement at the sound of your teacher curse. You shift your gaze to look at him. The curls at the nape of his neck, the way his t-shirt dropped enough so you could see his neck, his chest. The freckles that splayed over his aged skin. “You just needed someone to tell you what to do.”

That was the loaded statement. And a pointed one, it seems. Someone to tell you what to do. And Joel wanted to be that person? Your eyebrows raise for a flash, thumbing over the paper.

“That would be too easy,” you scratch at your neck idly before going for the glass of water, sipping in contemplation. “...I mean, I should’ve known better.”

Joel takes the glass from you, offering himself a sip of your water and it stuns you speechless, doing your best not to convey it. Maybe he did that just because this was his house. That must’ve been it. He was comfortable, but goddamn – the eye contact he gave you when he swallowed the liquid.

It felt intentional.

He watches your features, vague as they were, in what to do next. He honestly wasn’t so sure what he was doing either. What? I know how to give you extra credit, sweetheart. Too forward, too boastful, too… cheap. You deserved better than that. He saw you in class, how hard you were on yourself. He talked to your other teachers, how well you were doing in your other classes. He felt for you. And he was a bit lost in your eyes. You were all too pretty, too brilliant to be dimmed down to a fuck for extra credit. Joel could see that. He wasn’t even sure what he was thinking, you had him distracted. You threw him off without even trying. The plight within him grew stronger as he handed back the glass.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” Joel straightens up, his hand cups over your forearm in a way that’s understanding, but also makes goosebumps rise. You look down to see where you connect and he pulls away slightly. “Sorry, I–,” “No, it’s okay,” you agree, “It’s okay. You’re right.”

“It’s just, I see hundreds of bright, beautiful young people every year, but none of them have stood out to me like you.” He can’t believe the words that are coming out of his mouth. The candor, the nerve. A filthy old man, that’s all he was in the eyes of someone as sweet and innocent as you were. Even if you happened to be experienced – god, what was he thinking?!

Joel clears his throat, shifting a bit in his seat, but he sees the way your lips part, but your eyes don’t show an ounce of shock or distain. They look soft, and… willing. You know that is because the pull at your core feels too strong to think of anything else. You look down at his left hand, making sure you’re not dreaming. He’s not married? You’d casually look at his hands from time to time during class and ignored the ache it gave you, but this? So close? Backed by the glow of his house? It was so different from the boys you were used to. In their dorms or disgusting apartments. It smelled as nice as it looked. You realise you’re not speaking, but the way you lean into him says more than you really ever could.

“I don’t know what to say,” shyly, you touch your knuckles to your cheek, “you should teach the guys that go here how to chat with someone.”

It’s a mutter, but not to yourself. You drink one more mouthful of what you were offered before putting it back on the coaster. Honestly, any distraction was welcome to defer from the ever-present density in the room.

“Those guys don’t know what they’re talkin’ about anyway. I know I didn’t at that age.”

There. The topic right in front of both of your faces.

“How old at you, anyway?” You inquire, thumb mindlessly circling over your knee. Joel tracks it, licking over his lips as he answers. “Forty-six. You?”

“Twenty-one.”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

There’s this standstill, as if you’re both in the air together looking at each other in slow motion. How will this land? What are you both even doing here like this?

“I’m sure your boyfriend takes good care of you,” Joel’s eyes, round and bright brown, get lost in yours – the way your breath hitches, the shift of your thighs on his sofa. He wondered what you tasted like, what sounds you make when these boys who don’t know what they’re doing with their tongue attempt to eat you out. Do you fake it? Do you give it to them straight? Neither of you had a drink from that bar cart in the corner of the room, but somehow you’ve become closer – and more intoxicated.

“Don’t have one,” you respond softly, orbs flickering to the set of plush lips that grow more red the longer you let the tension build, “what about you? N-no partner?”

Your attempt in confidence wavering the longer he stares at you. It’s like staring back into the sun and you have your brows knit together until the tug of muscle makes your forehead hurt – smoothing them apart with the twitch of muscle fibers.

“No partner,” Joel’s hand settles on your thigh and you can’t hold it back; you gasp. But you do something he doesn’t anticipate, or well, you don’t do something: you don’t pull away.

How did you two get to the topic, anyhow?

How did you end up straddling his lap, for that matter?

It’s within six eager seconds that his hand, hot and rough, touches your soft skin, and you – green, you – fervent, throw all inhibitions aside and lunge. It’s more fluid than you realise, and his hands (both now) grip the backs of your bare thighs and you whimper at the sensation of him squeezing you. Your wetness against your cotton panties grows from the kneading alone. No, absolutely not, the boys back in the dorms didn’t know how to do this.

It takes an even shorter time for your mouths to meet. He’s first to kiss, and he tastes like coffee and his dinner, and the faintness of a cigarette – maybe early in the day? You couldn’t tell, your head was swimming too deep in now to come back from.

And although his calloused fingers roll patterns into your soft skin, he’s just as willing. Just as desireful and you can feel it beg to be set free at the seam of his jeans. His tongue skirts against yours, hips rolling up the second yours tempt to roll down; causing you both to moan in each other’s mouths.

It gets feverish after that. All teeth, tongue, bite.

You don’t want to stop, you don’t want to take a moment to breathe because fuck, that could stop things. That could make him realise what is happening.

But that only is another item to your list of naivety.

Because Joel, he’s ready. His masculine arms wrap around your frame to lift you up just enough so he can get out of his fucking jeans that he now regrets wearing. Shoulda been wearin’ sweats, but it’s effortless… eventually. He hurriedly pushes the thick fabric down until they hit at his thighs and you’re pushed down onto his boxers that – holy fucking shit – leave nothing to the imagination. “Joel, J-,” you pant between kisses, fingernails digging into the base of his neck, he pauses. Pulls away, gets a good look at your face.

“Y’want this?” And goddamn, you can’t see yourself, but you imagine you look just as fucked out as he does. On the cusp of every little fantasy he’s had about you from the moment you sat down behind that desk.

“I want this,” you repeat. You weren’t sure exactly when the nerves subsided, maybe because all of the blood is now rushed at the apex of your thighs, but you mean it.

You want this. You want Professor Miller.

“You got me,” his breath dances over your lips before guiding you back a bit, “here… I’m going to lie back, I want you to– I’ll show you.” Your lips quirk up at the fact he’s so flushed he can’t even finish his sentence.

But that soon turns to you flushing when you realise his request. “I – what?”

“No?” Joel sits up on his elbows, looking over to you and you’re worried you’ve killed the mood. It’s just, straddling his face? Blood rushes to your cheeks.

“I’ve never done that… What if it’s bad?” His eyes, reassuring, but a deep shade of black now beckons you.

“Darlin’, I think you’ll be a natural. But I can teach you, if that’s what you want.”

You swallow, straddling his knees somewhere at the bottom of the couch and you think about it.

Joel, on the other hand, was living in a fantasy of teaching you things in and out of school. Showing you how to make yourself feel good on his mouth – make you forget all about the essay that caused you grief today. He leans over, pushing it under the couch out of view for good measure.

“Okay,” you agree, though nerves still flood you. “Okay, you wanna take your panties off?” You lick your lips at that, biting back another whimper that brought you to this predicament in the first place. And you did – you wanted nothing more than to slip your underwear off and give into your pleasures. His voice was deep, graveled with the prospect of him fucking you senseless on his couch and who were you to deny him that?

Who were you to deny yourself that, more importantly.

“Yeah,” doing as you say, you slip off your lace-trimmed undies and abandon them somewhere on your Professor’s floor. “Fuck,” you mutter. This was naughty.

“Already so good for me,” you weren’t even sure that Joel’s voice could get deeper, or more inviting, but it does. You bite your lip and oblige when he pats his chest. Going over to him, you straddle just above his broad shoulders, and he’s almost out of view with him like this – somehow making it easier to just feel what he could do to you.

Joel on the other hand? All he can do is see the outline of your glistening core from the shadowed tent you’ve made of your dress and his groans are muffled slightly from the fabric, “Fuckin’ Christ,” he wants to devour you, but he takes his time instead.

Peppers kisses along your thighs that make you claw the armrest, causes you shiver at the contact and you can’t believe this is happening. “J-Joel,” you hesitate, but his hands are wrapped around your hips now, fingers digging into the breadth of your ass.

“Sit.” Joel commands.

Oh, fuck.

You’re almost certain you’ll break skin at your lips from biting down so hard, but you do as you’re told. Anchoring down, it’s subtle at first – the brushing of his facial hair against your folds, his chin prying you apart. Then, it’s incredibly palpable. His lips are the first thing you feel as they press and kiss over your middle and as you shudder it only makes your muscles sink deeper on him. You’re the first to moan, and then Joel, and his mouth is open when he invites you inside it.

“Oh, my god,” thighs shaking, Joel flattens his tongue under the hood of your clit, a body part you were certain hadn’t been touched by anyone else but yourself. There was no time to compare, the white hot pleasure coursed through your veins and he took his time with it, too. Made sure he was teasing you, his tongue dipping inside your entrance, as sloppy as it felt. “Hmmn,” you can’t speak, forearms resting on the armrest now as your head hangs between your shoulders and his fingers make pliable work of your asscheeks. Pushing you down, using your hips to move back and forth against his mouth – like he’s using you while you use him.

The air is thick under your dress, sticky and humid, as Joel swirls this tip of his devilish tongue in the most astonishing circles you’ve ever experienced, and you know it’s because he has more experience than you do. Has so much to teach you, if you let him. Your mouth hangs open as you try to inhale, but it’s just too much. Especially with the way he thumbs into your stomach, then your pubic bone – lifting it just slightly to expose your clit to him. An angle, not even you have found yourself.

It almost feels like too much. It’s intentional, the way his tongue flicks over that bundle of nerves right at the top of your cunt. Delicious, deliberate. Two fingers greet your entrance and it startles you, the way he’s rubbing your hole with his two fingers in slow circles before pressing them where you want them most.

“Tell me you want it,” you hear, muffled and fucked, and you shiver at the slightest bit of lack of contact.

“I want it, I want your fingers – please!”

And that seems to send him over the edge of how much he’s willing to hold back because he’s exactly where he was. Mouth on your clit, but fingers skillfully pressing inside of you and you don’t know how long you’ll last. Not with the pads of his fingers tapping in the perfect tempo against the ridged spot inside you.

That’s when a weird sensation comes over you. A pressure, you felt like you had to pee and your insides pulled in more trying to keep it all contained. “I–,” you start, but it happens so suddenly. Your orgasm rushes through you, convulsing and almost falling over the edge of the couch, you dig your fingernails into the upholstery. Your eyes roll back, and fuck, so are your hips. Unable to stop yourself using Joel’s mouth to keep you exactly right there. Pleasure pricks your skin, it feels like every cell is ignited – but you jump when you feel a rush of fluid come out of you. The pressure rebounding out, then rippling pleasure back inside you. Joel fucks you with his tongue and fingers until he feels you calm down.

“W-what, what… did I do?” You pant, and Joel is groaning, too. He lifts your hips to get lungfuls of oxygen, so dizzy on you and you notice how soaked his pair of fingers feel on your skin. Sits you down on his chest and you can see his face finally. Can see his mouth parting, gasping as his eyes are hooded and so gone. Curls stick to his forehead, his shirt a dampened colour at the collar. You blush heavily, embarrassed because you aren’t even sure what that was. Did he hate that, was that weird?

“C’mere,” he growls with gritted teeth and sits up, the tables turning instantly. Joel’s stripping his shirt off, kicking every last bit of the bottom half he had on to be abandoned on the floor. His fingers remove the buttons, but he can’t really get them – those fingers too big for the buttons. “Here,” you whisper, an intense feeling of lust falling over any self-conscious self talk you had. You undo the top of your dress one button at a time until your breasts are released from your bra – you moan when he has no problem spilling your tits from the satin, nipples in stiff peaks from your orgasm. And everything else.

“You know what you did?” Joel asks, taking both of your nipples between his fingers from each hand. You moan, lifting your hips and he bites his lip when he sees your cunt front under your dress. “What was it?” You ask, curiously. Innocently.

“You squirted f’me, baby,” he slurs, thumbing over your clit now as he gets a good look at you and he’s drunk on you. His cock throbbing against your thigh, he taps it against your skin before realising what he needed.

“Fuck,” Joel mutters and you can tell by the tone it’s not just at your appearance. “What is it?” You inquire, eyebrows knit.

“Gotta get a condom,” you hear him mutter, getting onto one foot and you stop him. “No. No. I want to feel you. It’s okay, I don’t get pregnant–” well that sentence isn’t exactly how you mean for it to come out, but your mind is mush, your body feels boneless underneath him, and he chuckles at that. At how gone your brain is. Here he was, thinking he was the only one. “Okay, okay, darlin’. I believe ya.”

And really, maybe he should be using more discretion. But he can’t get the feeling of you out of his head. You were everywhere. His mouth, his glistening chest and beard. He takes you by the hips then, sitting back to flip you on your hands and knees with your help and you moan at the sensation. Joel looks down at you, groaning of your ass in the air, pushing back for his cock. “Such a needy little thing, now,” it’s as if someone else is talking. This isn’t the Professor Miller you know. This man has layers and you’re first in line to know exactly what that entails.

Joel takes the base of his cock, bobbing it as it throbs alive in his hand and runs through your slick with the head of it. “So fucking wet. Beginning to think you’ve been wanting this for as long as I have.”

You bite a whine and he can see the back of your head nodding as you crane your neck back enough to make eye contact, but his eyes fall down to your ass pressing eagerly on his cock. Doing your best to press him inside yourself.

“Go ahead,” he slaps his cock on your folds and you mewl at the wet sounds coming from it. “Take my cock.”

And take, you do. Joel holds it out for you, keeps it steady and you push back slow on his cock. Clenching around the head and he growls at that. “You dirty thing. This how you fuck all your teachers?” It burns your skin, pushing your face into your arm and you shake your head.

“Words.” He warns.

“Just you! Just you, Joel!”

“Just me,” he parrots, hissing when you shift back and you both twitch and groan when you take him to the hilt of you. It was so thick, stretching you out until you felt split apart from him. “Just me, show me then. Show me how you fuck me.”

You bite into your arm then, choking on a sob as you push your ass back over and over. Your cunt taking him deep like this, it almost feels like too much and not enough at once. Torturously slow against the spongy spot again

It felt so amazing taking him yourself, but it was like an itch you couldn’t scratch on your own. The tapping of his balls against your clit was too far apart in tempo, his cock speared inside you at a pace that didn’t have quite the same leverage as Joel did behind you.

His hands busied themselves on your ass, peeling the muscle apart – pressing his digits to leave bruises and just when you think it’s too much to take, he gives you something else. His spit falling from his lips right to the velvet of your asshole. You shudder and flutter around him when it falls to where you’re connected. Your fingertips grip the other armrest now, cheek resting atop of your hand and you can’t do it yourself anymore. “Fuck me, Joel! Professor Miller, please!”

“Shit – you know where to push, don’t you?” Joel’s wide hands slide up your sides, keeping them locked in place as he pulls your hips to him at first. Using your whole lower body, your head hands doing your best to keep yourself up but you’re so close when he uses you like this. When he picks up the pace and you let your head fall on his throw pillow – your screams of desire are targeted into the plush cushion.

Joel is bound up in amazement behind you. How you feel around him, your gorgeous figure in front of him as he gives you every bit of power he can now. His hips hammering into you, but with the right amount of speed – not too fast, not too slow. The sound of his balls slapping against your clit is faster now, and the difference is what you focus on. The way it sounds. Joel feels you tighten, pulse around his own pulse and he has to say something to you. Has to talk you through it, even if he’s not sure you’ll like it.

“So fuckin’ good for me,” he drapes his body over your back, huffing into your ear as the controlled weight of him pushes your ass down just enough to make your thighs shake. You are soaked, sticky against his abdomen, between your thighs. Over your own stomach. You move your face so you can feel his skin closer against your. His lips staying on your cheekbone, he grunts and nods.

“That’s it, fuckin’ take it. I know you can take it. Those shaky fuckin’ thighs better hold on.”

You feel yourself coil and he is quick to sooth over your hips with his palms.

“Relax, baby. That’s it, that’s good, darlin’. Shh, easy. Do you feel that heat?”

You nod hopelessly, the buildup was so strong you couldn’t do anything but curl your fingers into fists and whimper repeatedly.

“Give into that heat. Come for me, I know you can be so good for me. Good for – fuck – fuck. Good for my cock,” Joel groaning in your ear makes you flutter uncontrollably, and he wastes no time in wrapping his arm around your front, rolling quick circles at the split of your cunt, right at your clit. “Milkin’ my fuckin’ cock like that, don’t stop. Don’t fuckin’ stop,” he grits, and you’re gasping.

Clawing at the pillow, head craning up and back as you come. Mouth gaped, Joel takes advantage – pouring his tongue into it, swirling and drinking you while his cock bottoms into you repeatedly until he can’t take it anymore. You feel too good. Perfect, even.

“Joel!” Your whine is high, as your wet folds take his merciless shoves. “You feel so good, youfeelsogood!” Your lip quivers, jerking in aftershocks that feel a lot like multiple orgasms. You aren’t even sure how you feel, but he knows he has to pull out. So he tells you, rough and pained against your ear. He doesn’t want to any more than you do. But as soon as he does, that reward feels just as sweet.

He exhales roughly through his nose, a popping sound filling the room when he pulls out. Not even needing to touch himself to spill himself over the small of your back.

“Fuck,” he’s out of breath, grunting, and doing his best not to collide into you. You’re still, the nape of your neck dews with sweat and you can feel it stick to your dress instantly.

“Stay there,” Joel pulls away, and you sit up on your elbows now that you’re fully flat and study his frame walk into the kitchen.

The back of him is just as irresistible as the front.

You hum hungrily at the landscape of his back. But you do as you say, you don’t move a muscle. When he comes back, you take note of the splotches of his chest, his neck red and sheened with sweat, too. He’s just as disheveled. The paper towel he comes back with is rough against your lower back, but tickles more than anything else.

Makes you wriggle and laugh.

“What did I say?” He threatens, but his voice is much more smoother and tender. More playful. More like what you’re used to.

“Tickles!”

“You must endure it if you know what’s good for you.” he’s finished enough for you to roll over. You pull your tits back into your bra with another low laugh, but to yourself at how exposed and a mess you’re sure you look on your professor’s couch.

“I think I like that threat.”

“No more,” and that makes your heart drop. He must be able to see the disappointed look on your face, so he rephrases his sentence in an instant. “No more tonight.”

“Maybe I should be teaching you the importance of ambiguity.”

“Next lesson.”

Your heart soars just as fast as it dropped.

---

While you slip on your sneakers, you turn your heel to him – bag in tow. “Listen, I don’t want this to be why I passed.”

“It’s not – it won’t be,” Joel chews up the space between you – his hand pressing against the doorframe that your delicate hand adorns at the knob, fully dressed himself, now. “You will pass by your own volition. I meant it – you are bright. You won’t let anybody take that from you, will you?” You knew that wasn’t a question as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, but you still swayed your head ‘no’.

“Not even me.” He whispers, pressing his lips to your forehead before dropping his arm – allowing you to leave. And that’s exactly what he’ll let you believe.

“Especially not you.” You smile, leaning up to kiss his lips – your flavour lingers over his facial hair and tongue. Your panties in his pocket.

“Goodnight, Professor Miller.”

“Goodnight, doll.”

taglist: @cool-iguana – comment to be added!

#bee's requests #professor!joel #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x afab!reader #joel miller x f!reader #tlou smut #joel miller requests #soft!dom joel #softdom!joel #professor au #professor joel miller au #tlou au #joel miller au #by bee

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snailor-bee · 1 year ago

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JJK | NanaIta | NSFW | Ongoing - Currently 4.7k | LINK TO FIC

I've been reading some yaoi romance mangas that feature a lot of S&M dynamics that were really interesting to me? Because I don't normally go for it but it was a lot of feelings which I liked, haha. So I wanted to explore in the space the mangas had which got me writing this. Starts out VERY soft but I'm thinking of slowly ramping it up as it goes along, we shall see.

#nanaita #bee smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

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bunnis-monsters · 3 months ago

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NSFW

When you’re first brought to the hive, the bee hybrids attempt to comfort you. They bring out the cuter, more petite and feminine males to coo and buzz, nuzzling and purring against you as they prepared you for breeding.

They were so soft and fluffy, their hands moving over your body and learning every curve it had. This was the first time they’d ever seen a human pussy, so their wings buzzed with curiosity and excitement as they experimented with your pretty, fat cunt.

When you’d moan, they chirp and coo, their antennae tickling your face in happiness as they continued those motions, some taking notes.

You were their queen and they wanted nothing more than to pleasure you perfectly!

They were all so pretty, so soft and sweet smelling… it was driving you crazy.

The first cock that sunk into your pussy took you by surprise. All of the bee hybrids surrounding you were either your height or shorter, cute fluffy, sweet things… but here they were, stretching you out as they whined in pleasure and praised you for taking them so well.

The feeling of your belly beginning to swell with eggs was… strange, almost uncomfortable. You’d never felt so full before, and once you were too full to take anymore, you were settled into bed.

There were several fuzzy hands on your round belly, soothing it. Honey was rubbed into the stretched skin and they made sure to comfort you as you got used to being their sweet little incubator.

“My queen… you look gorgeous…”

You had a few clutches of eggs before the drone bee hybrids couldn’t take it anymore. They wanted access to the queen, they loved you so much it hurt to not get to be inside that fat, pretty cunt of yours!

So you sat in bed, one of your usual mates nibbling softly on your neck as the drones swarmed the bed, worshipping your body and stretching you out more than you thought possible.

Some came so quick, they had been pumping their cocks to the image of you being fucked by the others as they waited, and edges themselves until they were able to fill your pussy with their eggs.

Others lasted so long the others would get impatient, their wings buzzing with irritation as they humped pillows or your free hands.

You were carried away to be bathed and soothed once you were done. They all loved you so much, getting to mate with the queen was an honor… they knew you would eventually pick a queen to be your primary partner… but they were hoping to have most of your attention for a while longer…

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @midromiell @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog

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pearlcigs · 1 year ago

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⋆ make a woman out of me

christian!virgin!reader x ellie williams

summary ⋆ you swore to yourself you only longed for ellie in a platonic way, but as you get older you seem to realize just how pretty she really is.

warnings ⋆ 2.95k ⋆ smut, i might get cancelled 🤷‍♀️, reader (non penetrative) virginity loss, religious themes, ellie is 19, reader is 18, pastor's daughter!reader, mentions of homophobia, alludes to reader's parents being homophobic, ellie smokes weed, pet names (pretty girl, babe, honey, baby, good girl), cursing, first kiss, corruption, corruption kink, oral (r recieving)

time moved slowly within the parameters of jackson. the same familiar faces, day in and day out. though, it was comforting living in such a community. the horrors of the world beyond the walls that stood tall was something you rarely wanted to think about. it made you sick to your stomach to think of your friends, loved ones, even people you weren't particularly close with, outside of the safe walls, being face to face with whatever monsters marred the unhabitual world.

your parents were strict with religion, your father being the only self acclaimed paster that jackson has ever had to offer. there was never a time you could remember, even before finding refuge in the cozy town, where your parents weren't devout. vivid memories of your mother's fingers gliding over the cross necklace she wore around her neck when you would get in trouble. disappointed sighs and signs of the cross, begging the lord above for forgiveness, explaining to the sky you were too young to know what you've done was a sin.

the bible was followed closely in your home, and you obliged without caution. you prayed, attended your father's mass sessions in the tiny chapel just down the road where he preached the bible, wore the holy cross around your neck to show your devotion, you've read the old torn and withered bible you were so lucky to find front to back. religion was all you've ever known and you had found no reason to ever question the man who hung on your wooden walls, hanging from a cross with his hands and feed nailed to it like an animal. that was, until ellie.

"come on, don't you wanna jus' see what it feels like?" ellie teased, waving the joint in front of your face like a taunt. "no thank you." you replied, sitting at the foot of her bed, legs crossed, eyes wandering around her room. when ellie first came to jackson you were infatuated with her, dwindling it down to pure want but only of friendship. "good girl, that's what you say when someone offers you this shit." ellie moves the weed away from your face, inhaling it and then turning away to exhale the smoke away from you.

it started with just friendly smiles, offering to show her around and help her get to know everyone. she was wary of you. honestly, afraid of your friendly demeanor. people on the outside of the jackson walls were cruel and vicious, she thought, with no doubt in her mind, you were being friendly to lure her into some kind of trap. she danced around you with caution, keeping her distance but also decidingly giving you a chance. she quickly became fond of you, your personality, your looks. everything about you appealed to ellie and something about that made you proud, even more eager to befriend her.

the words 'good girl' ring from her mouth and you're not sure how to respond. was there even a proper response to your best friend calling you that? a simple nod was all you could come up with. watching her lips intently as she blew the smoke out of her lungs. your fingers came up to your neck, fiddling with the cross necklace around your neck, a habit passed down from your mother. ellie never paid much attention to your shy outlook on life. you were reserved and a part of her liked that she had so much of you to herself.

it wasn't until you were 17 that you finally came to terms with the fact that your infatuation was more than just a yearning to be her friend. tears of guilt streaming down your face in the confessional at the shoddy chapel, divider between you and the young volunteer who was ready to beg jesus to abolish your sins. "i'm a girl... and i like another girl." you sniffled, lowering the pitch of your voice instinctively so he wouldn't see past your anonymity. ache in your heart when silence was returned, until soft mutterings of a prayer, asking jesus to forgive your tainted heart.

ellie extended her arms behind her head, a small stretch that gave you big feelings. her shirt rode up, exposing the small of her stomach. you swallowed harshly, wondering why god would tempt you with something like this. a soft sigh emits from ellie's lips, flicking the almost finished joint into a nearby makeshift ashtray. another soft sigh falling from her perfect lips. intent eyes trying to be secretive of the no less then unholy thoughts that you were being tempted with.

ellie was put off at first by your fervent religion. her experiences were tainted, never having a good visual of what a healthy relationship with god looked like. she was unsure if you were going to try and convert her into some pious worshipper. you weren't secretive of your religion and that much was enough to make ellie suspicious. with time she realized you were different from the other religious people she's met. only bringing up your religion or anything to do with it when you were directly asked or if it was really important to speak about.

"whatchu lookin' at, pretty girl?" she chuckled as she noticed the way your eyes locked onto her, like if you looked away she'd be gone. it wasn't unusual for ellie to be flirty or to make casual remarks about how pretty you were. still, every time she did your cheeks were adorned in a rosy color. "just you, i guess. i dunno..." you answered back quickly, hoping that answer was enough to satisfy her eager curiosity. "yeah? just me? got something you wanna say to me?" she was just joking around, trying to get you riled up and flustered but you did have things you wanted to say to her.

"no." you answered, though you were sure she wasn't expecting an actual response. "no? yikes, babe, i'm hurt, thought we had somethin' real here." she smiled and you felt the butterflies in your stomach become tongue tied. one thing you loved about ellie above all things was her smile, how the skin around her eyes scrunched up just the tiniest bit, the apples of her cheeks becoming more prominent. everything about her smile made your head spin.

"els, i like you." the words slip out of your mouth before you could even process what was going on. her smile that coerced you to confess to her in the first place falters. "i'm sorry?" she questions, unsure if you meant what she thought you did. you had never said anything that led ellie to believe you were homophobic or that you thought all gay people were sinners like most of the older people who were religious in jackson did. but still she was careful to keep her sexuality from you, strongly assured you would take after your parents' stance on homosexuality.

"i... i don't know why i said that." you say, truthfully. mouth slightly agape and eyes widened with shock that you'd just outed yourself after years of trying to force down your feelings. there was a silence between the two of you. silence wasn't uncommon around each other, sometimes the both of you preferring to spend your time together quietly as a way to unwind after a treacherous day. but this silence was different than those times. ellies breath was caught in her throat, words jumbled on her tongue.

she only began reacting when she saw the panic on your face, followed by your eyes becoming glassy. "hey, hey. don't cry. it's okay." she comforted, sitting up and placing a hand on your knee. she wasn't good at comforting people, you were well aware of that. "i didn't mean to.." you admitted, voice timid and quiet, still uncertain to how she would react. "hey, it's okay, honey." the term of endearment sliding off her tongue like she was meant to call you that for the rest of your lives.

"i'm not mad." ellie affirms, her tone soft, knowing how afraid of other people's anger you are. another flash of silence emerges, just you and ellie staring at each other. neither of you knowing what to say. she pitied you, seeing how much you resented yourself. your bottom lip slotted between your teeth, biting hard enough to potentially draw blood. "don't do that..." she mutters, gently running her thumb over your partially chapped lips, pulling your bottom lip out of your teeth's grasp.

your breath hitches, a small shudder traveling up your spine. your eyes locked on hers, your heart beating loud enough for the whole world to hear. ellie's eyes flicker down to your lips and then back to your eyes. "i've liked you for a while." you admit, knowing there was no going back at this point. "oh, yeah?" her voice was low, some would even describe as seductive. her thumb still lingering on your bottom lip. "yeah." you whisper back, your eyes now flickering down to her lips.

ellie's hand moves to your jaw. her eyes flicking down to your lips one last time before she leans down and presses her lips against yours. her lips are soft, just like you had imagined. she seems skilled, like she knew what she was doing and what the end goal was. a small smile forming on her face as she realizes you have no idea what you're doing. “like this.” she mumbles against your lips acutely aware how clueless you were when it came to romance.

you follow her lead, doing your best to follow her lead. her free hand finding your waist, squeezing gently. you pull away, panting faintly. "i don't know.." you mumble, trailing off as ellie puts her lips back to yours. the hand that was on your jaw roaming to the back of your head, fingers getting tangled in your hair. "i know." ellie responds moments later, her lips brushing against your with each syllable. you couldn't comprehend what was happening, your mind going blank with ellie's lips on yours. she adored the way you looked at her. looking at her like you needed her.

she gently lays you back, grabbing the first pillow she could find and settling it under your head so you were comfortable. her thighs either side of your body, her body weight on top of you, giving you a cozy feeling you'd never experienced before. "you don't even know how long i've been wantin' to kiss your pretty lips..." she whispers, her bangs hanging in front of her face. you bring your hand up to her face, nervously tucking the hair behind her ear. "god, you're so fuckin'..." she stops, just taking a second to admire how alluring you looked under her.

her lips dip down to your neck, slowly biting and sucking on the skin. your breath hitches, a small whine pushing past your swollen lips. ellie groans against the skin of your neck. "make more of those pretty noises f'r me." she mumbles, hips rolling over yours, another whine spilling from you at the pleasurable feeling. ellie's kisses move away from your neck, down your body. trailing down your collarbone to your clothed chest to your stomach. her lips stop, hovering right above your pussy.

your heart was beating out of your chest, you back arching a little in anticipation. "how bad do you wan' it? tell me, baby. tell me how much you wan' me." she was totally and utterly obsessed with you, her mind becoming drunk by the thought of you— the mere sight of you. "p-please, els..." you mumbled, voice timid from embarrassment. it was partially expected though, you'd never done anything like this. "i want you..." it was simple but effective, making ellie go feral for you. "fuck—"

she lowers her lips to your pussy, kissing over the fabric of your shorts. watching her through hooded eyes, your pussy throbbing from her touch. "gonna eat this pussy s'good. show you what you've been missin' out on." she groans, the fabric of your shorts dampening as she trails her tongue over the sensitive area. ellie surprised herself, shocked that she was able to dirty talk to you so easily like this. your hips were writhing against the bed, more eager than you've ever been in your entire life. you felt dirty for wanting this, knowing that god was watching you become a total slut for ellie.

ellie's fingers hooked on your shorts, pulling them down slow as slow could be, chuckling as you whined. "ellie. ellie, please." you muttered, begging for her to hurry up. ellie's eyes rolled back, the sound of you begging getting her more aroused than she's ever been. no one's ever made her feel like this before. she was done with the teasing, if not for your sake but for hers. she pulled your shorts and underwear off swiftly, discarding them somewhere to find later.

her eyes locked on your bare pussy, fighting back a moan at the sight. "you've got me so fucked up, babe." she muttered, kissing around your thighs first. you were nervous, breath shallow and quick paced, hungry for ellie but embarrassed nevertheless. your voice was caught in your throat, blinking quickly as you watched ellie kiss all over your thighs. ellie looked up at you and you were able to see that she was just as nervous as you. "is this okay? you can tell me to stop." she sounded sincere, pushing aside her pure need to get your consent.

you nodded, not trusting your voice. "use your words like the good girl you are, yeah?" she's longing to just taste your glistening cunt. "yes— yes, els. 't's okay..." she doesn't waste another second after hearing your shaky voice, tongue urgently dipping between your wet folds. you moan at the contact, feeling like you were on cloud 9. ellie's tongue presses flat against your clit, your hand clamping over your mouth. moans being muffled as ellie savors the sweet noises your dripping cunt was making.

ellie wasn't fond of you muffling your perfect little sounds, wanting to hear just how good she could make you feel. "let me hear you. don't make me punish you.." you don't move your hand away from your sinful mouth. your free hand finds ellie's, interlocking your fingers which she gladly accepts. "c'mon, baby. let me hear you." she encourages once more, lips moving against you with ease, mixture of your wetness and her spit. but to her dismay, you still ignored her commands. her free hand sliding your shirt up your body to expose your breasts, you were never one to wear a bra. her hand kneading the supple flesh, thumb running over your nipple.

she licks a strip from your entrance to your clit, making your thighs shake with immense pleasure. "wanna be a brat?" she mumbles into your pussy, looking up at you through her eyelashes, staring you down as her tongue circles your clit. "what is it they make you do in confession? hail mary's? 5 of 'em, now. or i stop." she smirks, watching the look in your eye become more flustered by her request. you slowly move your hand away from your mouth, not wanting this pleasure to ever stop.

"h-hail mary, full of grace—" you cut yourself off with a moan, eyes squeezing shut as you lift your hips, pushing your cunt further into ellie's face. "get to ruin this pretty pussy." ellie groans. "keep goin'. don't stop." she aids you to continue, feeling your cunt flutter around her tongue. "the lord is with— is with thee..." you continue, stuttering through the words. "good girl, keep goin' f'r me. let me hear you." she continues to egg you on, talking into your pussy. her own moans mixing in with the sound of yours.

"blessed art thou— ellie, please..." you whine, squeezing her hand and throwing your head back into the pillow, back arching off the bed. "c'mon, pretty girl. blessed art thou..." you toes curl at her words and the feeling of her tongue teasing your entrance. "—amongst... amongst women..." you trail off, mind becoming to hazy to even remember the words to the prayer you've prayed everyday since you could talk. ellie smirked into your cunt, relishing in the feeling of being able to turn your mind into mush, being the only one able to turn your mind into mush.

your moans and whines became breathier and higher pitched with each flick of her tongue. your stomach twisting in an unfamiliar knot. "ah, ah, ellie—" your thighs trying to clench together and push her head away, the feeling becoming too much. "you're gonna cum, baby?" she spreads your legs wider, her only greedy want is to make pleasure wash over you. "ellie! ellie! ellie!" you chant her name, eyes rolling back as the pleasurable wave of your orgasm finally hits you, moans loud and unfiltered.

"there we go... yeah, nice an' easy. fuck." she mutters, tongue fucking you through your high until your writhing and pushing her off of you. her lips relocating to your thighs and slowly working their way up to your pelvic bone, soft kisses against your skin. "tasted so good, baby. best pussy i've ever had." she praises, eager to show you just how much you pleasured her even though you technically didn't make her cum. "els..." you whined, face flushed a rosy red. "yeah, baby. 'm right here." she leaves a trail of kisses up your body as she reaches your lips, leaving a soft peck to let you know she was here. "does this mean you like me too...?" you asked innocently. "are you serious?"

another christian!reader x ellie williams fic!

#🍄 ⋆ the last of us #🕰️ ⋆ birds and bees #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #the last of us #the last of us x reader #the last of us smut #tlou #tlou x reader #tlou smut #ellie wiliams #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie smut #ellie x reader smut

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reidmania · 2 months ago

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opposites attract | s. reid

summary; spencer would give the world to be your person, even after you argue that you two are too different.

warnings; fem reader, pining!spencer, lowkey pining!reader, bombshell!reader, rejection, reader is described as confident and more of a black cat, insecurities, doubting, a bad date mentioned, happy ending, spencer lowkey gets frustrated, reader has tattoos.

an; messy and switches perspectives whoopsies. Idk how many words, a lot. Too many.

Two years. That was how long Spencer had been a complete and utter mess. Two years since his brain didn’t quite function the same, he remained intelligent, sure, but god so incomplete. Two years since you started at the BAU, two years since he met you.

You were out of his league. He had decided it the moment he laid eyes on you. You were stunning, absolutely perfect in anyones gaze. You were everything he could ever want and more, not just physically. Your laugh, your voice, the way you spoke to everyone around you, gentle, warm. The way you sat quietly in the corner most days, not because you felt out of place, nor shy, not because you didn’t enjoy being there, but just because no matter where in a room you were, your presence was known. Especially to Spencer.

He tried to pretend that he didn’t fall completely in love with you the first time the two of you ever had a conversation and you spoke to him with a smile, listened to him, he tried to pretend the scent of your perfume didn’t make him lightheaded, and the sight of your tattoo that he only saw on occasion’s didn’t make him wonder if you had more, what made you get it, was there meaning?

Spencer wanted to know everything about you, he wanted to live in your brain and know your every like and dislike, what made you smile a little wider, what made you unable to stop laughing, what your favourite drink was, what colour you liked the most, where your family was from, your middle name.

Spencer would stop the world to know you.

That was impossible to hide, even two years later. He tried, so many times to get your attention, to be the subject of your fascination. It didn’t help that every-time you looked in his direction his skin grew ten temperatures too warm and his head spun.

He tried asking you out, twice. Sort of.

The first time was too subtle, too rambling and hidden in the mix of stutters and hot cheeks, fidgeting hands. Because you were looking at him, with a gaze so intense and caring, patient.

How was he ever suppose to talk when you were looking at him like that? Like there was something that made him worth the gravity the warmth in your eyes held.

“Would you date me?” It was blurted out on a Tuesday afternoon, you were standing beside him as the buzz of the bullpen had calmed down, your gaze was focused on reorganising the files on his desk, his gaze was on you. You were reorganising because you didn’t like the way he had done it, and it had been ‘bugging’ you for weeks.

Spencer loved the way his files were organised, but he loved you more.

It was stupid, he didn’t even mean to say it. It was out of place leaving his lips and he knew it the moment your head turned towards him and a sweet laugh left your lips, not mocking him, god you would never. It was a laugh of shock, confusion, maybe even surprise.

“Are you asking me out?” You asked, raising your eyebrow slightly as you met his eyes. His cheeks heated before he could help it, eyes went wide because he had no idea what he was doing.

“What- I- no.” His voice was an octave higher, a tell sign he was nervous, if you needed any more tell signs between the fidgeting of his hands, his bright pink cheeks and his avoidant gaze. You smiled as you shook your head, looking back at the files on his desk, he watched your hand as your ran your finger along them once they were organised neatly, anyone else he might’ve cringed at the sight, but it was you.

“I don’t think so” You had mumbled in response and Spencer felt the world shift into an imbalance. You said it so casually. He didn’t know if his heart was beating too fast or if it was breaking. You turned your head back to look at him, a frown on your lips when you saw the frown that had snuck its way onto his features before he could even realise.

“Not because you aren’t great. Or attractive. You are — You definitely are. I just think we are too different.” You said. His eyebrows knitted together as he met your eyes. He hated the fact you were frowning, he hated the fact he was frowning. He hated what you had just said, god he loved you.

“Right” he didn’t know what to say.

“Spence” You spoke through a warm huff of laughter, shaking your head as you twisted your body to face him fully, your hip leaning against the desk as you crossed your arms over your chest. He watched your hair fall down the sides of your face, over your shoulders. He wondered if you had changed your shampoo since the last time, the only time you had hugged him a few weeks ago, when he had gotten the chance to breath it in, and then it was all he thought about for weeks.

You smiled at him and it was contagious, despite the ache in his chest and overwhelming sense of illness in his stomach, you were smiling. “I think you’re amazing, i always have” you started and his cheeks warmed more. “But we are complete opposite’s.”

He wanted to argue you. Say that he could change and be more like you, more like the guys he had seen pick you up after work, he could be whatever you wanted. He could be someone. Someone to you.

But he didn’t.

That was the last time Spencer had attempted to ask you out, you never bought it up. You never questioned it again, you didn’t push you ask why he wanted to know. Spencer remained sickeningly in love with everything about you, you remained pretending to not notice.

Why were you here? You couldn’t quite remember or find the time to think about it properly between the noise surrounding the fancy restaurant you were in and the sickening long rant the boy in front of you was going on. Something about a business, something about saving it, something egotistical and sickeningly boring.

The date starts out fine. It’s all small talk at first—work, hobbies, the usual pleasantries. But soon, you realize that Mark has a lot to say. About himself. A lot.

“And then I closed the deal,” he says, recounting some work story about how he single-handedly saved his company from financial ruin. He leans back in his chair, smiling like he’s just told you the most fascinating thing in the world. You nod politely, but your mind starts to wander. His voice fades into the background as you think about something else, someone else.

Spencer.

You wonder what he’s doing right now. Probably at home, curled up with a book, or maybe he’s watching a documentary. You can almost picture him, pacing around his apartment, muttering facts to himself about some obscure topic that no one but him finds interesting. But you love that about him. He’s so passionate about everything, even the things that most people would overlook. And he’s never trying to show off. He just loves sharing what he knows.

You try to pay attention to the guy in front of you, you really really do. But god he is so boring. You wonder how quickly you could get one of your friends to come save you from this horror of a date. You wonder how long you would have to hide in the bathroom for before he disappeared.

Mark’s voice pulls you back to reality. “So, what do you think?” he asks.

“Hmm?” You blink, realizing you’ve missed the last five minutes of whatever he was talking about.

“I was saying,” he repeats, a little slower this time, “I just think it’s amazing how people like me can juggle so many things at once. Don’t you think?”

You smile, but it’s strained. “Sure, that’s impressive.”

As the date drags on, you start to notice little things. Like the way Mark talks to the waiter, snapping his fingers for attention, barely looking up from his phone when the waiter brings the food. He doesn’t say thank you. Not once. It’s subtle, but it grates on you. You find yourself cringing, wondering if anyone else notices.

He was much more interesting when he asked you out a few nights ago at a bar, when you were drunk. Why had you agreed? Maybe drunk you saw something sober you didn’t. Or maybe drunk you just saw a male who was conventionally attractive and made you laugh. You wondered how low the bar was

You didn’t have a lot of time to wonder before you heard your name from behind you, your head spun and you almost cried with gratefulness when you saw Penelope standing there, a wide grin on her face, and then Spencer standing beside her, he offered you a gentle shy wave that made your heart warm.

“Oh my gosh! Do you guys want to come sit?” You asked, praying they said yes, praying that Penelope noticed the wide urgent look in your eyes and understood that you were begging. You were genuinely begging for a conversation about anything other than Mark’s biggest accomplishments.

“Oh- We don’t want to interrupt.” Spencer mumbled, looking between you and Mark, the two of you sitting opposite sides of the booth you were in. You noticed the look in Spencer’s eye, you knew what it was. He didn’t want to sit there while you were on a date with someone else. Clearly he misread the urgency in your gaze.

“No! Mark doesn’t mind? Do you mind Mark?” You asked, spinning your head around to face Mark who was confused on the two people and why they were talking to you. Why they had interrupted him. You had to hold back the urge to roll your eyes.

“Uh..” he started, you cut him off. “He doesn’t mind. Come sit.” You shuffled over to make room for the two.

Penelope slides into the booth beside you, while Spencer takes the seat across from you, next to Mark. He looks nervous, his fingers tapping against the edge of the table, but he offers you a small, shy smile.

“What are you guys doing here?” you ask, trying to suppress the excitement bubbling up inside you.

“Oh, we were just nearby, and I figured we’d grab something to eat,” Penelope says.

Spencer fidgets with his napkin, glancing at you, then back at the table. “I-I was telling Penelope about this, uh, documentary I watched the other night. It’s about the history of the subway system in New York. I think you’d really like it.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Really?”

He nods, his eyes lighting up as he starts to explain. “Yeah, it’s fascinating, actually. They had to navigate all these geological challenges, and the engineering behind it is incredible. I know you mentioned once that you’re interested in architecture, and I thought you might appreciate how they designed the stations.”

You stare at him for a moment, surprised. You don’t even remember telling him that you liked architecture, but he did. And now, here he is, rambling about a documentary he thinks you’d enjoy, not because he’s trying to impress you, but because he genuinely thought you’d find it interesting.

Meanwhile, Mark is looking more and more uncomfortable, clearly not enjoying the conversation. He cuts in, talking over Spencer to launch into another story about himself, but you’re barely listening anymore. Instead, you’re watching Spencer, noticing how different he is from Mark. Spencer, who’s always so considerate, who listens more than he talks, who looks at you like you’re the most important person in the room, even when he’s nervous.

And then there’s Mark, who hasn’t asked you a single question all night, who’s rude to the waiter, and who’s more interested in hearing himself talk than getting to know you.

“I think I might head off..” Mark muttered, clearly annoyed at the fact you had not only been interrupted on your date, but also frustrated that you were paying more attention to Spencer than him. You couldn’t care less.

“Oh okay! Have a good night” You smiled, sickeningly nice as he shuffled his way past Spencer to leave the table. He glanced at you once, not saying anything before he walked away.

“He was an asshole!!” Penelope bursts out into laughter the minute Mark was out of earshot, you immediately joined her laughter while Spencer remained quiet, shuffling around on the now empty side of the booth.

“Those are the type of guys you go out with?” He asked, his voice was quiet, almost offended. You wish you understood why when you stopped laughing at met his gaze. You opened your mouth to talk as the tension around the table grew.

“Hey! Don’t judge!” She gasped out, pointing her finger dramatically at Spencer, clearly not noticing his underlying feelings and why he had even said anything, you did. “It’s slim pickings out here!!”

Spencer hummed, tapping his fingers against the table as he avoided meeting your gaze. You frowned slightly. Soon enough the conversation fell back into rhythm, flowing like it did any other time. They ate, you paid since it was your date. Then Penelope left.

You stood outside of the restaurant, looking around the busy streets. “How are you getting home?” Spencer asked, his gaze meeting yours as you tilted your head upwards to look at him, you couldn’t not smile. It was impossible not to smile around Spencer.

“Uh- Walking. I walked. It’s really not far.” You nodded to support your words as you buried your hands inside the warmth of your pockets. You had been in a state since Spencer had gotten there, a state you couldn’t quite explain. Silently lost in thought, a state of confusion? Maybe realisation.

“I’ll walk you home. Its late.” He said it like it was a no brainer. Like it was the most obvious thing for him to do. No date you had ever been on had offered you walk you home.

Every time Spencer speaks, you feel yourself softening, smiling without even realizing it. His nervous energy, the way he fumbles over his words, it’s all so endearing. He’s not trying to prove anything to you. He just wants to share the things he loves with you, and it’s the sweetest thing.

“Okay.” You breathe out the silent agreement before your feet find rhythm next to Spencer’s as you walk down the street, the post lights causing an orange glow across the ground, across his face.

“Theres a study.” Spencer started, his breathe coming out warm against the cold air causing a fog of steam to follow his breath, you watched it for an moment before your eyes flickered to the side of his face, you’re still walking, his gaze doesn’t meet yours.

“That uh— Shows that opposites attract, it’s more of a theory, since scientifically it doesn’t actually work like that — although negatives are attracted to positives if you’re looking at electricity — but uh- People believe that a lot of people are attracted to people opposite them, because each person offers something the other lacks, making the relationship feel more complete.. Majority of relationships that are built off of opposites work better than people who are too similar because theres more of a balance.. its chaotic but, it uh — it works.”

He was nervous. You could tell. Your breath hitched slightly as he spoke, as he brought it up again. Your mind tried to process the overload of information he had mumbled out. You tried to process it.

“So scientifically we wouldn’t work.” You huffed out. He laughed. Genuinely laugh, it was breathy and quiet but genuine and it made your heart warm.

“Technically— but theoretically—”

You cut him off, a rare occurrence, “I thought you were a science guy.” You mumbled.

He was quiet for a moment before he spoke. “I think I am just a you guy.”

You didn’t know what to say. It was sweet in a way that your brain couldn’t process. He was going against everything he believed to be correct because he wanted you?

“I thought data and statistics are the most reliable source of information.” You mumbled the response, words he had said, probably months ago. Why were you fighting him on this? Why were you fighting yourself on this? You weren’t sure.

“Sure; most of the time. But they are subjective. Especially when talking about psychologically. Each couple, each set of people — they’re different.” He said, his gaze didn’t meet yours. You pulled your eyes away to focus on the street in front of you. You were getting closer to your house, yet part of you wanted to stay right here.

“You think we could work?” You asked. It was a whisper.

He paused, you could see him nod in your peripheral. “I do. I’d make it work, i’d do anything.” Maybe it came out more desperate than he had intended, you found it sweet.

You found him sweet.

“Spencer” you paused your movements and his stopped with yours. His body turned to face you as you looked up at him. His eyes were pleading, desperate, hoping. It almost made your heart ache at the slight fear in them, that you were going to maybe reject him again.

But you found him sweet.

“Id date you.” You answered the question he had asked maybe months ago now, you didn’t realise until now that you had conveniently stopped outside your house. You turned your head to look at the front door before back at Spencer.

“Can i- uh- Will you- I-“ He stuttered and your heart warmed at his nervous attempt to ask you out.

“Yes.” You answered gently, saving him the hassle. Maybe being different was a good thing. Maybe you could beat the statistics that proved otherwise.

Maybe opposites did attract.

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beesspacedotorg · 8 months ago

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Third Leg?

Summary: after spending time with Minho after exams, you remember something he said in the heat of the moment about your packmate Jeongin. You decide to confront Jeongin about it, because after all, what's the worst that can happen?

Warnings: sex. uh. poly ot8 and reader. more omegaverse. continuation of Dibs but can be read on its own. breeding kink?? manhandling ??? reader is lowkey a brat, uh. Jeongin's dick is huge. I actually don't know what else to add, so let me know if there's another thing I should put in here. reader is an omega but gender and genitals are unspecified as always

notes: I got possesed by a demon when I was writing this. I don't even have a breeding kink. Also if the title is bad, no. this is my first time writing Jeongin, so if it's bad no it isn't. this is his very late birthday present. Happy Birthday, King.

to read: Dibs

In most things, you try to be reasonable. It does not come easy to you, it doesn’t come easy to most people. You wish your pack would be more understanding of this sometimes. You know that’s an unfair thing to say about, to say to, your pack, but you can’t help it. You really don’t want to, you really can’t spend Jeongin’s rut with him. It’s the middle of the semester, you’re still convinced the Luna doesn’t like you, and you’d prefer not to think too hard about your relationship with anyone else. You’re comfortable with Hyunjin and you’re comfortable with Changbin. Everyone else, you think, couldn’t care whether you were around or not.

“That’s unfair to think, dove. Of course they want you around. We want you around.” Hyunjin says, he’s holding your face in his palms in a way that he often does when he talks to you.

“I know, but I really don’t feel comfortable yet, it’s only been a couple months, and it took me so long to get used to being around you.” You huff and you can feel a heat forming behind your nose. “I just really- I don’t want to spend Innie’s rut with him. I can’t.” Hyunjin hums affirmingly and swipes a finger under your eye to cut off a tear, but otherwise makes no comment about your crying.

“You want them to stop pushing,” he says, and you nod at him.

“I want them to stop pushing.”

“Okay. I’ll see what I can do. But, please don’t say we don’t want you around. We do. At the very least, I do. Okay?” You nod at him and smile slightly as he kisses your nose, it turns into a laugh when he gets insistent, peppering kisses all over your face until you’re shoving him off and smiling wide at him.

“So.” You have a spoonful of cereal halfway to your mouth when he comes into the kitchen. In all reality, you aren’t supposed to be here. You only stopped by for a quick snack before you went to head into work, but then there was something at the shop so your boss told you to stay home. You’d intended to detour to the campus library instead to catch up on some homework, but between your first and second bowls of cereal you had switched out of your outside clothes to sweats and an old t-shirt, and now you’re standing three feet away from Yang Jeongin.

“So?” You set the bowl down on the counter.

“You don’t want to spend my rut with me.” You draw your shoulders up to your ears defensively. You think something in your scent must turn sour because you see Jeongin wrinkle his nose.

“Wait, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not mad or anything. I just wanted to know if you’d tell me why.” You pause, picking up your spoon and stirring the milk around the bowl, listening to the clink clink clink of metal on ceramic. Something about his question confuses you.

“If?”

“Yeah, ‘if.’ I don’t want to pressure you for information if you’re not ready to give it. If you’re uncomfortable with spending my rut with me, that’s fine. If you don’t want to tell me you’re uncomfortable, that’s also fine.”

“I don’t want to tell you why.” He shrugs. You’re surprised at how easy that was.

“That’s fine. I have another question though.”

“Hmm?”

“Could we hangout, or something? Before you steer clear of the house for a week and a half, I want to spend time with you. Unfortunately,” he rolls his eyes, “I’ve come to enjoy your company and if I don’t spend some time with you I might do something drastic.” He’s slowly approaching you now, crowding you against the counter. He’s given you plenty of time to walk away or move, but you haven’t, so he continues.

“Drastic, you say.” He hums, taking your bowl and putting it in the sink, not bothering to rinse it out.

“Drastic like breaking every single door that separates the two of us just to make sure you’re safe.” He wraps his arms around your waist and rests his head on your shoulder, nose against your neck. His hair smells like baby powder, like his shampoo that you and Hyunjin sometimes steal. You can feel him shake with laughter when your scent changes with arousal as he gets in your space.

“You’re easy.” You hit his back slightly.

“You’re mean.”

“Will you hangout with me, though? I was mostly serious.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll hangout with you.”

“Great,” he says, and you let out a small shriek as he drags you in the direction of his room. The door is halfway closed when he yells across the house.

“I call dibs until my rut starts!” You can hear the groans and complaints through his now shut door.

So, you spend time with him, both before and after his rut, and nobody comments on how annoying it is that you’re monopolizing his time like you thought they would. There’s a point where Hyunjin interrupts you because he wants Jeongin’s dick in his mouth, and when you move to leave, they both start complaining. (You left anyway, not being ready for that just yet, but the idea made you feel warm regardless.)

You don’t get to spend much time with him after that though, because then you have Minho and exams flooding your vision and your senses, and while one of those things is enjoyable, the other isn’t and for two seconds you’d like your brain to be off. Just for two. That time comes and it’s as you’re waking up from your post-fuck nap with Minho that it hits you.

“You said Innie was talking about me during rut?”

“What? Sweetheart, we just woke up.” Minho is rubbing his eyes, smacking his mouth, and blinking cutely. You feel the urge to pinch his cheek but worry that would land you in hot water so you just poke it instead.

“Yes, I know, I know, but. You said Jeongin was talking about me during his rut.”

“Yes? Why do you sound so surprised? You’re our Omega after all.” You flush again at his casual claim on you, he keeps catching you off guard with it.

“He never mentioned it to me.” Minho yawns and slings his arm over your waist.

“You were busy, of course he didn’t mention it to you. Besides, you seemed so … hesitant to spend his rut with him in the first place that he probably didn’t want to mention it at all.” You frown, brows furrowing as you think about it. You move to get out of bed when Minho stops you.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

“To talk to Jeongin.”

“It’s too early for one, and for two. I have some things planned for us.” His hand wanders up your shirt.

“But-”

“I thought you had learned enough to stop arguing with me? Does your mommy need to teach you a lesson?” He says this, but he’s not holding you back. If you wanted to, you could leave this bed and camp outside of Jeongin’s door until he woke up. But you don’t. You don’t even know what you want to say to him, and Minho is tracing soft circles on your skin and you’re struck with undeniable want. You ease yourself back into bed.

“That’s my pretty Omega. So good for me, hmm?”

You don’t get to talk to Jeongin until several days later. You’re too busy sleeping like the dead for a day and a half, then Chan steals you away for a celebratory dinner date, then when you finally get the chance to talk to him, you walk into his room and find him and Yongbok making out, so you’ve had to curb the conversation for later, until now.

“Innie!” He’s slipping his shoes on.

“Yeah?” He never ties them, you notice, ties them once and then slips them on and off over and over again.

“Where are you going?”

“On a walk.”

“Great.” You walk over to him and shove his jacket off his shoulders, then kick at his feet until he takes his shoes back off, and start dragging him to his room.

“What.” He’s confused despite the fact that he’s the one who let it get this far.

“I want to talk to you.”

“Okay?” He sits down on his bed, patting the spot next to him so you can sit too.

“Minho mentioned that you talked about me during your rut.” It comes out of you in a rush. Jeongin’s face flushes red. He covers his face with his hands, his huge hands with their stupidly long fingers.

“Ah. Yes. I did. Are you upset?”

“Am I up- Am I upset?” You’re incredulous. “One of the hottest men I’ve ever seen and one of my Alphas wanted me during his rut and you think I’m upset?”

“Okay, to be fair. You didn’t seem too thrilled about the idea of my rut to begin with.”

“I was new to the pack!”

“You’d been with us for three months!”

“Like I said, new!” He huffs and knocks you onto your back, laying across you in the way you’ve seen the others do to him.

“Why did you come to talk to me about it?” You flush at his question and you can hear his little chuckle. The members joke that he learned how to be mischievous from Minho and Seungmin, and you’ve never seen it more than right now.

“Oh? I see.”

“Don’t be mean.”

“Minho hyung says you like when people are mean.”

“Minho said what?!”

“I’m kidding, he refused to tell us what you two got up to, but now I know that I’m not too far off.” You grab a pillow from behind your head and smack him with it. He moves himself until your noses are touching and smiles at you. You smile back and poke around his face until your finger lands in a dimple.

“You want me to fuck you, is that it?” His voice is soft, low, because of how close he is to your face and he smirks when your scent fills the room.

“You do?” You nod at him and he tuts.

“Minho’s taught you better than that.” You huff and pout at him. He laughs and kisses you.

“I’ll let you get away with it because you’re cute.” You beam at him and he smiles back.

He starts with kissing you, because of course he does. It’s soft and sweet and a little hesitant and it’s similar to the way you’ve seen him kiss Yongbok, but different from the way you’ve seen him kiss Seungmin and you’re struck with the realization that he sees you as something soft and precious. That he’ll hold you with the same amount of delicacy he uses to hold Felix and your heart stutters in your chest for a minute.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” He’s pulling away, looking at you with wide eyes as your scent changes. “Did I hurt you?” You shake your head at him, pulling him close for a hug for a minute as you calm yourself down.

You’ve never had a pack before, your culture has moved away from it. You had to move from your family for school and since then you’ve been relatively alone. It’s been a while since you’ve felt loved, and when you’re faced with the sheer amount of it the eight of them have to give it overwhelms you every time. He hasn’t hurt you, it’s the opposite.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Ah, I see. Hyungs’ said you might cry a little. That’s okay. Do you want to stop?” You shake your head at him, answering with a verbal “no” after he stares at you pointedly. You lean in to kiss him again and he responds with the same gentleness he did before and you can feel yourself slicking up in your pants. You hear him take a sharp inhale and then you feel his grip tighten where his hands were resting on the side of your face and neck.

“Jesus, I can see why hyung keeps you to himself all the time. You smell so fucking good.” He stops kissing you to start making out with your neck, you can feel him starting to scent you and you tug at him, whining.

“Innie-”

“Yeah, I know, but-” he cuts himself off with a groan and you can feel his hips press into yours and dear God.

“Is that your leg?”

“No.” You whine again. There’s no fucking way his dick is that big. You tell him so.

“Well. Prepare to eat your words because it is.”

You huff at him again, and really, he should spend less time around the more sarcastic pack members because his attitude is making your eye twitch. He sees it and smiles mischievously at you before landing a soft peck right below the same eye.

“I’d like to see how you handle Hannie or Seungmin hyung. They’re worse than I am.”

“They also probably move faster than you do.” He grumbles at you at that and gets to work undressing the two of you. He’s sliding his hoodie off when you’re filled with the urge to bite his biceps. They’ve gotten bigger since you’ve been introduced to him and you think it’s crazy because you hardly ever see him work out. Suddenly, there’s a large palm against your forehead and any forward movement you had started is quickly stopped.

“What are you doing?” You can feel your teeth click together as your mouth closes and you blink a couple times.

“Nothing.” He squints at you.

“You were going to bite me, weren’t you?”

“No.”

“You’re a liar!” You’re being manhandled now, and you refuse to go down without a fight. You grab a pillow and nail him in the face with it.

“I am not! I’ve never- don’t pull my hair- I’ve never lied!”

“You’re doing it right- why are your nails so fucking long- right now!”

“Nuh uh!”

“Did you just fucking- ow! What the hell?” You finally manage to get your teeth on his arm and it’s just as great as you imagined it would be. Your victory is incredibly short lived because between one second and the next Jeongin has you pinned to the bed. Your cheek is pressed against the mattress and he has your arm twisted in a way that’s mildly uncomfortable, but that’s overshadowed by how you can feel him pressed against you to keep you pinned. He’s all lean muscle and you can feel where his shoulders press against yours and where his cock is pressed against your ass and if you tilt your hips just right, you can feel him brush against your slick hole.

“Oh? Does my pretty Omega want something?” You can hear the laughter in his voice. You can also hear how it’s dropped three octaves and you can feel it rumbling from his chest. You can feel how his cock is starting to leak against your skin.

“Jeongin-”

“I think,” he grabs your other arm, pinning your wrists at the small of your back, “that if you want anything you should beg for it.”

“Innie, you’re not being fair-”

“I’m not being fair? You bit me. I have you pinned. If you want anything from me, you’re going to have to work for it.” You turn your head into the mattress and let out a small sob, wiggling a bit in Jeongin’s hold. His hands loosen on your wrists and he lifts his weight off of you enough that you could get out if you wanted to. Minho did this too, gave you signals with his body to let you know that it was okay to not want it, the problem is that you do. You like how Jeongin has you pinned, and you like the humiliation that’s going to come with begging for it.

He notices you haven’t moved and so his grip tightens on your wrists again. You feel the chuckle he lets out as he presses his weight down onto you again and you know your scent must be doing something because he inhales with his nose pressed straight against your neck.

“Get to begging, baby. I have all night.” You whine at that, wiggling and trying to push your hips back against his to fuck yourself onto his cock, but he pulls his hips back, readjusts until you couldn’t reach his cock unless you dislocated something and he laughs at you.

Jeongin does have all night, it turns out, because you spend a considerable amount of time with your forehead pressed into the mattress trying to will the shame that comes with wanting out of your body. At one point, he asks you if you’re alright, dropping the act for a bit and when you respond he resorts to taunting you.

He’s doing it now, taking his ridiculously large dick in his hand and gathering some of the slick that’s leaked between your legs to jerk it. You can hear the wet noises it’s making and you can’t help but think of how much louder it would be if he were actually fucking you. It turns out that your Alpha was thinking the same thing because he starts talking, and each word chips away at the lump in your throat.

“Fuck, you smell so good, baby. Your slick is so warm, I bet it’d be warmer if I got it straight from the source, yeah? What do you think? You’re leaking so much you’ve made a wet spot on the bed, maybe I should fuck that instead, since you wanna be stubborn.” You whine in response.

“No? You don’t want me to do that? I think I should. Or should I just finish on your back?” Your next answering whine is more of a wail.

“Oh, I see. You’re a little cumwhore is that it? Want me to come inside of you? Hmm? Get our Omega pregnant?” You moan this time, drooling onto the sheets. Jeongin grabs your head and turns it to the side so he can see you better, or so that you can see him and how he’s about to waste his cum on you instead of in you. The drool smears onto your cheek and you can feel your eyes start to well up with tears because you know he’s close.

“Please.” It escapes from you in a pathetic whimper and the hand that was stroking his cock pauses.

“What was that? I don’t think I heard you.” You know he did, but you also know that if you don’t repeat yourself and beg good enough he really will make good on his promise to finish on your back and leave you there.

“Innie, Jeonginnie, please. I want- I want-”

“Want what? Hmm? A slice of cake, a new Minecraft update?” You huff at his mocking, but it’s too wet to really hold any weight, and you can feel your lip wobbling, so you’re not surprised when what you say next is more of a sob than anything else.

“Your cock. Jeongin, Alpha, please. You said you wanted me during your rut, don’t you want me now?” It’s a low blow, and even through your desperation you know that, but you’ll do what it takes to get him to finally stick his huge dick in you.

“Oh, baby. I do. Don’t worry.” His fingers are searching for your entrance, stretching you out just enough for it to not burn too bad, but you’re so wet, and both of you are so needy, you know that you’ll just have to deal with the pain of not preparing for his stupid dick later because you want it now.

“Then,” he made the mistake of letting go of your wrists to grab your hip instead, and you ball your hands into fists and hit the bed in frustration, “why aren’t you fucking me?” He huffs a laugh.

“All that and you’re still giving me trouble? You’re lucky you’re cute, Omega. So lucky.” You start to kick your feet at him but you’re stopped by the fact that he’s slowly starting to push into you, making a home for himself inside your body and slowly forcing the breath from your lungs.

It burns, and you expected it to with how unprepared you were, but it feels good and you don’t care so that will have to be a later-you problem.

“Jesus, you feel so good, baby. Better than I imagined.” He starts a rough rhythm right off the bat, and you’re needy enough that it doesn’t bother you, besides, you’re pretty sure he was edging himself earlier, so he’s entitled to this.

“Felix hyung and I talked about it, you know. When I was in rut. You left.” The last part comes out as a soft growl, and he coughs to get himself in check before pressing a soft kiss between your shoulder blades.

“You left and I thought about how warm you’d feel inside. Felix wondered too, said he wanted to know how sweet you were.” You hear him chuckle. “Y’know I got him to come untouched from just talking about you, pretty baby?”

You gasp, letting out a shuddery moan at that, and you hear Jeongin laugh above you. You were already halfway to delirious with how good he was fucking you- hard enough to shake the bed and bang the headboard against the wall- but something about knowing that the pack wants you always makes you just that much wetter, always makes your head that much lighter, so you can’t help but clench down around his cock and get everything around you soaked with more of your slick.

“Jeonginnie, Alpha, I- please- I want to-”

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead, baby. I won’t make you beg for this one.” He presses himself down against your back, knocking your knees out from under you so you’re flat against the bed and have nowhere to go, nothing to do but take it.

“The next one, though. I make no promises.”

The new angle has you going dumber than you were before and you can feel Jeongin’s breath in puffs of hot air against your neck. You whine at him, moaning as you’re trapped underneath his body and when you come it’s with white spots dancing across your vision. You’re just coming down when you feel him start to pull out and you surprise both yourself and him with the growl that comes out of you.

“Yang Jeongin, so help me God if you do not come inside of me-” He shuts you up by doing just that, bullying his knot into you until it pops and rolling the two of you onto your sides so you’re not laying in the multiple spots of wet that have stained his sheets.

“You’re bossy.” It’s said against your hair while his stupidly big hands come up to massage the crick in your neck that’s finally made itself present. “How do you get away with that when you’re with Minho hyung?”

“I listen to him. Mostly.” He pinches you, you pinch back. You sit in silence for a minute.

“Was it good? Or, as good as you imagined?” You try not to sound insecure as you say it, but you know that you’ve probably missed the mark.

“Better. Way better.” He kisses the spot he was just massaging and winds his arm around your middle. “Nap time. You’ll need your energy when I get you back for being a little shit.”

“I wasn’t.” He scoffs at you.

“Yeah, sure. And my name is Chan.”

“Hi, Chan, how are you?”

“Cancel what I said earlier. The second we aren’t locked together anymore I’m kicking you out.” You laugh at him.

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