#feel free to suggest me how to share? i suppose! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sonarspace · 4 months ago

Text

❝ TOUCH ME, TAKE ME, KISS ME ❞

ft. gojo, geto & shoko. (4some)

꒰ synopsis. where celebrating new year’s with your best friends turns into something much more intimate—one kiss at midnight isn’t nearly enough.

warnings. MDNI. college au. fem! reader, fōursome, mutual pining, unprotected p in v, orāl (f! and m! receiving), fingerıng (f! and m! receiving), clıt stimulation, overstimulation, dirty talk, shared partner dynamics, voyeurism, slight dom/sub vibes, hair pulling, teasing, praise kink, body worship, light biting/marking, cųm play, & multiple orgasmś.

the cabin was exactly what you’d expect from satoru gojo – unnecessarily luxurious, tucked away on the outskirts of a snowy mountain town, and equipped with every amenity that screamed rich kid with too much money to burn.

“seriously, satoru, who the hell needs a jacuzzi in their living room?” shoko teased, setting her duffel down by the entryway. the bubbling water glowed from the built-in lights, steam curling lazily into the warm space.

gojo smirked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his black hoodie. “it’s about the vibes, shoko. the experience. and, i dunno, maybe i just like having options.”

geto, sitting cross-legged on the couch, glanced up from his phone. “yeah? and when’s the last time you used it?”

“hey, i brought you guys here, didn’t i? sounds like ungrateful energy to me,” gojo shot back, though his grin didn’t waver.

you chuckled softly, toeing off your boots near the fireplace, letting the heat seep through your socks. the large windows stretched across the far wall, showcasing the snow falling steadily outside, blanketing the trees under the silver moonlight.

“he’s right, though,” you chimed in, peeling off your jacket. “we could’ve rung in the new year at some regular house party. but instead, we’re here. cozy, secluded... not the worst way to spend our last new year as college students.”

“see? someone gets it,” gojo said, flashing you that familiar, lopsided grin.

you rolled your eyes, but the truth was, you didn’t mind. the four of you had been close since your freshman year, and as the years piled up, so did the late-night study sessions, spontaneous road trips, and drunken confessions after long nights out. this felt like a full-circle moment. one final hurrah before graduation came sweeping in to change everything.

shoko tossed herself onto the couch beside geto, tugging off her beanie and shaking out her hair. “so, what’s the plan? drinking games until midnight, or are we just free-styling it?”

“why not both?” suguru said, stretching an arm behind her, fingers brushing lightly against your shoulder where you leaned against the armrest. the contact was subtle, but you felt it linger.

gojo raised a brow, tilting his head dramatically. “i was thinking strip poker.”

shoko snorted, flicking his forehead. “sure. you’d be naked in five minutes.”

“is that supposed to be a problem?”

your eyes flickered to suguru, catching the small smirk pulling at his lips. his gaze met yours for half a second, dark eyes flickering with something unreadable, before dropping back to his phone.

this wasn’t the first time you’d caught the lingering tension between everyone – the casual touches, the way shoko’s gaze would sometimes linger on you a little too long, or the moments gojo’s hands would rest on your lower back at parties, guiding you through crowds when he didn’t really need to.

you weren’t oblivious. but none of you had ever crossed that line.

yet.

“alright, let’s start with drinks,” you suggested, pushing yourself to your feet. “anyone want to help me?”

“i got it,” geto said, standing with an easy grace. “come on.”

as the two of you headed into the kitchen, shoko and gojo’s quiet laughter echoed softly from the living room, the crackling fire filling the otherwise silent cabin.

suguru leaned against the counter, watching as you rummaged through the cabinets.

“so,” he started, his voice low and smooth, “how are you feeling about tonight?”

you glanced over your shoulder. “in general? or is this a ‘we’re about to graduate, what are you doing with your life?’ kind of question?”

his lips quirked. “both, maybe.”

you sighed, grabbing a bottle of whiskey. “i’m trying not to think about it too hard. tonight’s about celebrating, not panicking about the future.”

he nodded thoughtfully, but his eyes lingered.

“you know,” he mused, stepping closer, “satoru’s not wrong. it is kind of a waste to let this cabin go to waste.”

“what are you suggesting?” you teased, pouring the whiskey into a glass.

suguru’s gaze dipped, trailing over you slowly before flicking back to your eyes. “just saying… midnight’s a good time for new experiences.”

heat prickled your skin under his stare, but before you could respond, gojo’s voice rang out from the other room.

“hey, you two! quit flirting and bring the damn drinks!”

you laughed, but suguru didn’t move right away. instead, his fingers brushed lightly against your wrist as he grabbed the bottle from the counter, his touch lingering just long enough to make your breath hitch.

yeah. tonight was going to be interesting.

the drinks flowed easily, laughter spilling into the warm cabin air as the four of you huddled near the fireplace, sprawled across the plush rugs and oversized pillows. suguru sat beside you, his knee brushing yours with every shift, while gojo leaned against the couch, one long arm lazily slung around shoko’s shoulders.

“alright,” gojo drawled, tipping back his glass. his eyes glittered behind those obnoxious shades he insisted on wearing inside. “time for a game.”

“drinking game?” shoko asked, already halfway through her second glass of whiskey.

“nope.” gojo’s smirk curled wickedly. “truth or dare.”

you snorted, shaking your head. “what are we? sixteen?”

“don’t knock it,” suguru said smoothly, his eyes half-lidded as he sipped his drink. “it could be fun. besides, satoru’s incapable of suggesting anything mature.”

gojo shot him a look. “this coming from the guy who suggested skinny dipping in the hot tub an hour ago.”

“that was different. it was an intellectual suggestion.”

“sure it was.”

shoko waved a hand dismissively. “fine. truth or dare it is. but no stupid shit like licking the floor or whatever. we’re not in a frat house.”

gojo grinned, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “who’s starting?”

your hand shot up, aiming for the path of least resistance. “truth.”

“boring,” gojo muttered, but there was mischief behind the slight pout. “alright, fine. if you had to kiss one of us at midnight, who would it be?”

the room fell quiet for a beat too long. you felt three sets of eyes zero in on you, the weight of their attention thick enough to taste.

“uh—” you faltered, heat crawling up your neck.

“careful,” suguru murmured beside you, voice low and teasing. “we’ll know if you’re lying.”

your gaze flicked to his, catching the flicker of something darker in his expression. your heart thudded a little harder.

“i dunno,” you hedged, taking a slow sip of your drink. “depends on the mood, i guess.”

gojo leaned closer, grinning like he’d already won. “that’s not an answer.”

“then take it as my answer.”

shoko laughed, leaning back against the couch cushions. “she’s playing it safe. smart girl.”

but the tension lingered, subtle but persistent, weaving through the air like smoke.

“my turn,” suguru cut in smoothly, tilting his head toward gojo. “truth or dare?”

“dare, obviously.”

“kiss shoko.”

“easy.”

without hesitation, gojo leaned down and pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to shoko’s lips. she didn’t pull away – if anything, her hand slid lazily up his arm, nails grazing lightly against his skin before they parted.

“you guys have done that before,” you pointed out, trying to ignore the heat twisting low in your stomach.

“multiple times,” shoko replied, smirking. “you’re late to the party.”

gojo winked. “jealous?”

“not particularly.”

but the idea lodged itself somewhere deep. maybe it was the alcohol warming your veins, or the way suguru’s hand rested against the small of your back, light but possessive, but the thought lingered.

midnight wasn’t that far off.

the countdown started around 11:50. the drinks were mostly forgotten by then, the four of you curled closer near the fire, the alcohol buzzing quietly in your heads.

“five minutes,” gojo announced, his voice dropping to something smoother, almost suggestive. “better start thinking about that kiss.”

shoko stretched her legs out, crossing them at the ankles. “maybe we should just kiss each other. take the guesswork out of it.”

your stomach flipped at her casual tone, but when you glanced at suguru, his gaze was already fixed on you.

“not opposed,” he said softly.

gojo made a low hum of approval, sitting up straighter. “why not?”

“you’re all serious about this?” you asked, voice tipping toward incredulous, but your pulse betrayed you, hammering against your ribs.

“you’re curious,” suguru countered, brushing his knuckles against your thigh.

and you were. the tension had been building for years – subtle glances, fleeting touches, unspoken things hanging just out of reach.

“alright,” you relented, the words tasting like adrenaline on your tongue. “fine.”

the countdown echoed on the tv screen, bright against the dim cabin.

ten.

nine.

suguru shifted closer, his thigh pressed against yours.

eight.

seven.

gojo’s gaze dropped to your lips, his grin softer, teasing.

six.

shoko leaned into your side, her arm brushing yours.

five.

four.

your breath hitched as suguru’s hand curled under your chin, tilting your face toward his.

three.

two.

one.

their lips met yours at the same time – suguru’s mouth warm and steady, while shoko’s was softer, tasting faintly of whiskey.

you lost yourself in it, your hand fisting in suguru’s shirt as gojo’s hand brushed against your lower back, slipping lower, pulling you closer.

and just like that, the line dissolved completely.

the kiss started playful—soft touches, slow exploration—but the heat behind it caught quickly, sparking into something heavier. suguru’s fingers brushed your jaw, coaxing your lips open as his tongue slid against yours, slow and possessive. shoko’s mouth trailed along your neck, leaving wet kisses against your pulse, while gojo’s hand slipped under the hem of your sweater, his palm warm as it splayed across your waist.

you broke the kiss with suguru only to meet shoko’s lips, her tongue teasing against yours as she pressed closer, her hands slipping down to rest on your thighs. the space between the four of you seemed to vanish, replaced by the weight of wandering hands and shared breaths.

gojo groaned softly, nipping at suguru’s bottom lip before tugging him back by the collar, stealing a kiss that left no room for subtlety. suguru didn’t resist, his hand tangling in gojo’s hair, tilting his head to deepen it. the sight had your breath catching, heat pooling low in your stomach.

“god, you two,” shoko muttered, smirking against your lips. “it’s like watching a porno.”

“jealous?” gojo quipped, pulling back just enough to catch his breath, his eyes glittering with amusement.

“maybe.”

“you get her,” suguru said smoothly, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. “we’ll be back.”

before you could question it, gojo grabbed suguru’s wrist and led him out of the living room, disappearing into the hall with low, breathy laughter echoing behind them.

the absence of their presence left you and shoko tangled together on the rug by the fire, the crackling flames casting soft shadows across her face.

“guess it’s just us,” she murmured, her fingers tracing light patterns over your thighs.

“seems like it,” you whispered, barely able to focus with the heat of her body pressed so close.

shoko didn’t waste time once the boys left the room. her lips crashed into yours, all tongue and teeth, as if she’d been holding back for too long. you could feel the heat radiating off her as her hands roamed your body, tugging at the edges of your sweater until it slipped over your head.

her palms were warm against your bare skin, fingertips skimming the soft curve of your breasts, and you gasped into her mouth, arching into her touch.

“fuck,” she whispered, eyes trailing down your body, drinking you in like she couldn’t get enough. “been waiting to get my hands on you all night.”

you let her take control, her nails scraping lightly down your back as she kissed a path to your collarbone, sucking a bruise into the delicate skin.

your sweater, jeans, and everything else ended up in a pile near the fireplace, leaving you bare and vulnerable in the soft flicker of firelight. shoko settled between your legs, her hands pressing your thighs apart with a confidence that had you squirming beneath her.

“you’re so wet already,” she murmured, dragging a single finger through your folds. “you like this, huh?”

you could barely nod, the sensation making you dizzy.

her mouth followed, soft lips trailing over the inside of your thighs, her tongue flicking out to catch the slick gathering at your core.

“fuck, shoko,” you gasped, hips bucking when she sucked your clit between her lips, the warmth of her tongue making you shudder.

her grip on your thighs tightened, nails digging into the soft flesh as she kept you pinned, her mouth relentless.

“stay still,” she mumbled, voice muffled against you.

it was impossible. you tugged lightly at her hair, desperate for something to hold onto as she worked you closer to the edge, her tongue curling just right.

you didn’t even notice the sound of footsteps until shoko pulled back slightly, glancing over her shoulder with a smirk.

“oh,” she hummed, licking her lips. “you two back already?”

your gaze snapped to the doorway.

gojo and geto stood there, completely bare, their cocks hard and already dripping.

“we were enjoying the view,” gojo said, his voice deeper, laced with something dark as his gaze fixed on you.

geto stepped forward first, his eyes hooded as he stroked himself lazily, clearly not in any rush. “didn’t know you’d start without us.”

“you two looked busy,” shoko teased, swiping her thumb across her bottom lip, catching the glisten of your arousal.

“don’t stop on our account,” gojo added, stepping closer, his hand wrapping around the base of his cock as he knelt beside you.

shoko chuckled, glancing down at you with amusement in her eyes. “what do you think?”

you didn’t know how to answer, too overwhelmed by the weight of their attention—the way geto’s dark gaze lingered on your mouth, the curve of gojo’s smirk as he ran his fingers along your inner thigh.

“she can take it,” geto murmured, brushing his lips along the curve of your jaw. “she’s been good so far.”

shoko shifted lower, her breath hot against your core, but this time, geto was beside her, his lips pressing soft kisses to your clit before shoko’s tongue joined him.

“fuck—” your breath hitched, your back arching off the floor as their mouths worked in tandem, the slick warmth of their tongues too much.

gojo, not wanting to be left out, moved behind you, his lips ghosting along your neck as his fingers slid into your pussy, curling to meet the rhythm of their mouths.

“so fucking pretty,” he whispered into your ear, biting lightly at the lobe. “you like being the center of attention, don’t you?”

you couldn’t answer, too caught up in the overwhelming sensation, your body trembling as the knot in your stomach tightened.

“c’mon,” shoko coaxed, her tongue circling your clit faster. “let go for us.”

you did, a sharp cry leaving your lips as your orgasm tore through you, your hips jerking uncontrollably as shoko and geto didn’t stop, their mouths and fingers milking every last drop of pleasure.

when you finally opened your eyes, dazed and breathless, geto was already shifting, settling between your legs as gojo moved to take his place beside shoko.

“don’t be greedy, shoko,” gojo teased, his lips brushing yours as geto lined himself up with your entrance, the thick head of his cock pressing inside.

shoko’s hand slipped beneath your jaw, guiding you to look at her as geto thrust into you, stretching you wide.

“you can give us one more,” she whispered, pressing her forehead to yours as her lips hovered inches from your mouth. “be a good girl for me, yeah?”

geto’s cock stretched you to the hilt, the fullness making you shudder as he bottomed out, his forehead pressed against yours. shoko’s hand traced slow circles along your cheek, grounding you with soft touches even as her other hand slipped lower, two fingers pressing against your clit, slick from how drenched you were.

“you’re taking him so well,” she whispered, her thumb brushing your bottom lip. “but you can take more, can’t you?”

you nodded weakly, body already trembling, but the praise made your stomach flutter.

gojo shifted, moving behind you, his lips trailing lazy kisses along the curve of your shoulder. “gonna open you up even more,” he murmured, his fingers dragging down the length of your stomach, teasing along the edge of your folds where geto’s cock stretched you.

you felt his middle finger slip inside, pressing against the soft spot geto wasn’t reaching. the sensation was dizzying.

“so fucking tight,” gojo hissed, sliding another finger in beside the first, stretching you further. “can feel how deep suguru is inside you.”

shoko’s breath tickled your lips as her fingers drifted lower, joining gojo’s as he stretched you open, the combination of their touches leaving you gasping.

“so sensitive,” shoko cooed, pressing soft kisses along your jawline, her fingers brushing light circles around your clit.

gojo’s third finger slipped inside, the stretch nearly overwhelming, and your nails dug into the rug beneath you as your back arched, your body tightening around them both.

“fuck,” geto grunted, his cock twitching inside you. “she’s squeezing me like crazy.”

“feels good, doesn’t it?” gojo teased, his smirk audible even if you couldn’t see him. “she’s so warm… bet you won’t last long.”

geto’s grip on your hips tightened, his thrusts slowing, each drag of his cock purposeful as he pushed deep, grinding against the spot that made you tremble.

you whimpered, barely able to take it all in, your body stretched beyond its limits but craving more. shoko kissed the corner of your mouth, her lips lingering just long enough to make you chase after her, your tongue brushing against hers in a soft, needy motion.

“i can feel how close you are,” she whispered, her fingers pinching your clit just enough to make you jolt. “you’re trembling.”

gojo’s fingers pressed deeper, curling in a way that sent sparks shooting through you, and you nearly sobbed from the intensity.

“you’re holding back,” gojo whispered in your ear, his lips brushing against your earlobe. “let go, sweetheart. we’re not stopping till you’re a mess beneath us.”

geto groaned, his pace faltering, hips snapping faster as he chased his own pleasure, his grip bruising in the best way.

shoko dipped her head lower, trailing soft kisses down your neck, her hand leaving your jaw to tug gently at one of your nipples, rolling it between her fingers as her other hand continued its teasing strokes over your swollen clit.

“give it to us,” she coaxed, her voice laced with a softness that made your chest ache. “you can take it, pretty girl. just one more, i know you can.”

your breath hitched, the knot in your stomach tightening as the pressure mounted.

“fuck—shoko, i’m gonna—”

“i know,” she whispered, her lips pressing to yours in a soft, breathless kiss.

the wave hit you hard, your walls fluttering around geto’s cock as your orgasm crashed over you, your hips jerking up to meet his thrusts as gojo’s fingers kept curling inside, stretching you open further.

“that’s it,” gojo growled, pulling his fingers out just as geto’s pace grew erratic.

“fuck, i’m close,” geto grunted, thrusting hard one last time before he groaned low in his throat, spilling into you with a slow roll of his hips.

shoko kissed you through it, swallowing your soft cries as geto leaned forward, his forehead resting against your shoulder, chest heaving.

but they didn’t stop.

geto groaned low in his throat, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he gave one last deep thrust, burying himself fully inside you as he spilled, warmth flooding your core.

your body trembled, the overstimulation leaving you breathless, forehead pressed against shoko’s shoulder as she ran soft fingers through your hair, grounding you.

“fuck,” geto whispered, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as he pulled out slowly, his cum slipping down your thighs, sticky and warm against your skin.

but even as geto leaned back, his hands still lingering on your hips, gojo wasn’t done.

his cock throbbed against your thigh, heavy and slick with precum, the tip flushed and desperate for attention.

you felt his gaze on you, his hand sliding over your jaw to tilt your face toward him.

“think you can help me out, pretty girl?” he murmured, his lips brushing yours in a teasing kiss, but his hips were already shifting closer, his cock pressing insistently against your palm.

you nodded, the quiet desperation in his voice making you throb, still sensitive from geto’s lingering touch. your fingers curled around him, warm and slick as you stroked slowly, feeling the weight of him in your hand.

“fuck, just like that,” he groaned, tipping his head back slightly as his hand covered yours, guiding your pace.

meanwhile, shoko shifted in front of you, her bare thighs brushing against your waist as she straddled you, her hands resting on your shoulders for balance.

“don’t forget about me,” she teased, voice low, but there was heat in her eyes as she grabbed your wrist, guiding your fingers between her legs.

her slick heat coated your fingers immediately as they slipped inside, making her moan softly against your ear, hips rolling to meet your touch.

“you feel that?” she whispered, her forehead pressed to yours, panting softly. “been wanting you to touch me like this all night.”

your palm pressed deeper, thumb brushing over her swollen clit, and she gasped, biting down gently on your bottom lip as her hips bucked forward.

but shoko wasn’t one to let you do all the work.

her other hand drifted between your legs, her fingers brushing over your overstimulated core, dragging through the mess geto left behind.

“so messy,” she murmured, her tone soft and teasing, but there was nothing gentle about the way she slipped two fingers inside you, pressing into the heat that still fluttered around nothing.

you whimpered, arching into her hand as your own pace on gojo faltered, your grip tightening around his cock.

“shit—” gojo hissed, his breath stuttering as your fist squeezed him just right, his hips jerking up into your touch.

“i’ve got her,” shoko murmured to gojo, her lips grazing your ear as she thrust her fingers deeper, her pace slow but deliberate. “she’s so tight, aren’t you, baby?”

you couldn’t form words, only broken moans slipping past your parted lips, drool glistening as it trailed down your chin, your jaw slack beneath the intensity of it all. shoko’s fingers curled deep inside you, pressing against that spot that made your thighs tremble violently, your entire body arching into her touch.

her thumb circled your clit in slow, deliberate motions—not too much, but just enough to have you writhing beneath her, the friction driving you higher with every slow roll of her hips against yours.

“look at you,” geto murmured, dark eyes fixed on the way you twisted between them, shoko’s hand buried up to her knuckles inside you.

without a word, he leaned in, catching the trail of drool with his lips, kissing gently along your jaw before letting his tongue brush over the corner of your mouth, warm and unhurried.

“you’re taking her so well,” he said softly, his breath fanning over your lips before pressing a kiss to the hinge of your jaw, his palm cupping your cheek tenderly.

shoko’s teeth scraped over your neck, biting gently before soothing the mark with her tongue, her fingers never faltering.

“i know you can give me one more,” she coaxed, her voice soft but firm, curling her fingers until you nearly sobbed into her shoulder. “come on, baby, let me feel you.”

your hips rocked into her hand on instinct, chasing the pressure as pleasure coiled tighter inside you, her fingers coaxing you toward the edge.

“she’s close,” gojo groaned, his cock twitching in your palm as his eyes dragged over your body, flushed and trembling beneath shoko’s touch.

his hand slid over yours, guiding your strokes as his breath stuttered, his hips jerking forward to chase your fist.

“let go for us,” shoko whispered, her tongue tracing the curve of your ear, and with one last slow curl of her fingers, the tension inside you snapped.

your body trembled violently, thighs clenching around her hand as your orgasm surged through you, knocking the breath from your lungs.

shoko kept going, fucking you through the aftershocks, her fingers stroking deeper to draw out every last shiver until you were limp against her chest.

“fuck,” gojo hissed through gritted teeth, his grip on your hand tightening as he spilled hot and thick against your fingers, painting your skin with a satisfied groan.

for a moment, the room was quiet, the only sounds the soft crackling of the fire and the heavy weight of your breathing.

you lay there, muscles lax and trembling, shoko’s fingers still lazily circling your clit as she pressed soft kisses against your shoulder, grounding you in the afterglow.

“you were perfect,” she murmured against your lips, smiling softly as she finally slipped her fingers free, slick and glistening with your release.

geto brushed his thumb along your jaw, tilting your face toward him as he kissed you, slow and deliberate, his touch warm and steady.

“happy new year,” shoko whispered, her forehead resting gently against yours, and you couldn’t help the quiet laugh that slipped out between heavy breaths.

“happy new year,” you echoed softly, sinking further into the warmth of their bodies against yours.

an. HAPPY NEW YEAR BELOVEDS 😼😽😸! what are some new years goals y’all have? one of mine is to grow my tumblr following n get better at posting more 🤞🏽

4K notes · View notes

zephyrchama · 1 month ago

Text

A thin line of table salt adorned the floor in front of your bedroom. You stood behind it and stared at the demons outside of your doorway. They were staring at the salt.

Leviathan laughed. It reminded him of a low-level defense from a tower defense game. "Is that supposed to keep us out? lol."

"Yeah. I think it's working," you said.

Satan put a hand on his hip. As far as he could tell, it was plain old table salt. No magical properties whatsoever. "How so?"

"Well, none of you are crossing it. Clearly, it's having some kind of effect."

Mammon balked. "Obviously, it's because we're respectin' your privacy!" He stood closest to the line, wanting to cross it most of all.

"You're respecting my privacy by... standing right outside my door?"

Mammon opened his mouth to counter, only to come up with nothing. He stood there with his fists clenched. The feather on his belt swayed as he tapped a foot impatiently, causing the nearest salt to shift a little.

The noise annoyed Asmodeus. "Mammon, go walk through the salt."

"Why me!?"

"This is ridiculous." Lucifer crossed his arms. "Clean this up. I don't even want to know how this will damage the floors if you leave it."

"It's not even doing anything," Satan pointed out.

"If it's not doing anything, then one of you should cross it," you suggested.

"Why don't you come out to us?" Belphegor proposed. "There's only one of you, seems more fair."

"Yeah!" Asmodeus took a step away from the salt, careful not to get any on his shoes, and raised his hands. "You can run into my arms if you'd like. I'll be sure to catch you."

Their stubbornness astounded you. "Or... You guys can just admit you don't want to cross this salt."

"It's regular salt." Beelzebub knew exactly what the substance was as soon as he laid eyes on it. Plus, the smell was unmistakable. His claim was irrefutable.

"Yes, exactly. Thank you, Beel. I've seen you eat it many times." You had even taken the bag from the shared kitchen.

"Did you try walking over it?" Leviathan asked. "How are we supposed to cross it if you won't?"

"I don't need to. I'm in my room."

"You should come to our room," Belphegor offered. He was getting tired of standing around.

"Come out this instant," Lucifer ordered.

You thought about it for a whopping two seconds. "I think I'm good. I'll be in my room. If any of you need me, feel free to come in."

You retreated back inside with the rest of the half-empty salt bag. The brothers stared at you with a mix of impatience and disbelief until the wall blocked you from view.

3K notes · View notes

inkandapex · 1 month ago

Text

like lando norris

Lando Norris x Y/N

Summary : Lando Norris and his girlfriend invite viewers into their everyday life, sharing candid and funny moments as they go about their day.

Words : 2.5k

Warnings : swearing, suggestive talk

Lando and Y/N sat on the sofa, waiting for Morgan and Ethan to arrive to film the second part of the "I Ate and Trained Like Lando Norris" Quadrant video. Fans had loved the first one—especially catching glimpses of Y/N in the background, offering a rare peek into their domestic life.

The two exchanged a knowing look as the doorbell rang. Lando got up, heading for the door, only to be immediately greeted by a camera in his face and the two boys standing there with their bags.

"Good morning," Morgan greeted, stepping inside with a smirk. "I'm hoping for a better meal this time, Lando. I’m not having any of that mush for breakfast and that cold-ass salad for lunch again."

Lando laughed, hugging him briefly before turning to Ethan for the same. "We’re supposed to be healthy! You guys are living like me for a day, aren’t you?" he teased, waving at the camera before shutting the door behind them.

"Actually..." Ethan trailed off, making Lando raise a brow.

Morgan smirked. "The concept’s a little different today."

"We’re just gonna do what you do on a regular day off. No training, no ice chamber—just regular little Lando," Ethan added.

Lando scoffed. "I still train on my days off."

"Bullshit," Morgan shot back immediately.

"I do!"

"Oh, stop showing off for the camera, mate," Morgan rolled his eyes. "You probably just lie in bed all day and eat McDonald's."

Ethan burst into laughter as Lando shook his head with an amused grin.

"Right, where’s the missus?" Morgan dropped his bag onto the floor, casually looking around as if he owned the place.

"She was just on the sofa, mate. You probably scared her off," Lando joked, walking further into the apartment.

From a distance, Y/N’s voice called out, "I’m in the kitchen!"

The trio made their way toward the kitchen, where Y/N stood at the stove, containers of food neatly arranged beside her.

"This feels so scripted," Ethan teased. "You guys totally rehearsed this, didn’t you?"

Lando laughed. "No mate, this is all raw footage." He walked over, peering over Y/N’s shoulder to see what she was doing.

"Heard you complaining about having to eat cold meals," Y/N smiled, motioning for the camera to come closer. "So I’m reheating your breakfast."

Morgan stepped forward, relief washing over his face. "Thank fuck we don’t have to eat mush again. You’re an absolute angel," he said, eyeing the food. "You made this?"

She shook her head. "Still part of the meal plan, just reheating it. It’s banana pancakes."

Ethan glanced at his watch before looking between Lando and Y/N. "Are you guys usually up this early? Even on your free days?"

The couple exchanged a smile, shaking their heads.

"Depends," Lando shrugged.

"On?" Ethan prompted.

"On how we’re feeling, I guess," Y/N added.

Morgan smirked. "Depends on how wild they were the night before—dirty bastards."

Lando and Y/N both turned red, bursting into laughter.

Y/N plated the pancakes, topping them with yogurt and fresh fruit, while the three watched in focused anticipation—Lando even helping her place a few berries on each plate.

"Is he usually this helpful in the kitchen?" Ethan asked, eyeing Lando.

Y/N scoffed, immediately shaking her head. "Absolutely not."

Lando gasped, feigning offense. "Excuse me?"

"When I moved in, he barely knew how to use the microwave," she teased.

"Baby, I knew how to use the microwave," Lando defended himself.

Y/N smirked. "He never touched the oven, either. The protective plastic and stickers were still on—"

"Alright, enough from you," Lando cut her off, popping a berry into her mouth before leaning in to plant a quick kiss on her lips.

Morgan groaned. "Ugh, get a room."

Ethan laughed. "I think we are in their room."

Lando just grinned, grabbing his plate. "Well, since you guys wanna be me for the day, you better start eating like me too."

And with that, they all sat down to dig in, ready for whatever the rest of the video had in store.

"This is so much better than last time," Morgan said through a mouthful of food, letting out a satisfied sigh.

Beside him, Ethan nodded in agreement, grunting as he took another bite.

Y/N stood nearby, sipping on a smoothie instead of joining them in eating.

"You're not having some, Y/N?" Ethan asked, glancing over at her.

She shook her head and lifted her smoothie slightly in response.

Lando, ever the gentleman, cut a small piece from his plate and held his fork out toward her. Y/N smiled softly before leaning in to take the bite.

Morgan made a face. "Look at them. So sweet it makes me sick."

"Jealous?" Lando smirked at him.

Morgan scoffed, while Ethan shook his head. "It's all fake anyway. No way you pulled her, mate. Look at her."

Y/N let out a laugh as Lando turned to glare at them playfully.

Morgan leaned against the counter, intrigued. "Alright then, who messaged who first?"

Lando glanced at Y/N before answering. "Uhmm... I technically made the first move, but we were friends for a while before that."

Morgan barely hesitated before dropping his next question. "Is he as good in bed as he is on track, Y/N?"

Y/N choked on her drink, coughing as she tried to recover.

"Mate, try not to kill our host thirty minutes into the video," Ethan laughed, patting her back as Lando groaned, running a hand down his face.

Morgan simply grinned. "What? The people want to know."

-----------------------------------------------------------

The four of them were now in Lando’s car—Lando at the wheel, Y/N riding shotgun, and Ethan and Morgan lounging in the back.

“So, where are we off to now?” Ethan asked, leaning forward slightly to peek into the camera mounted on the dashboard.

Lando kept his eyes on the road as he navigated through the city. “Since it’s technically our regular day, we’re gonna run some errands.”

“You two actually do your own grocery shopping?” Morgan asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

Y/N chuckled, nodding. “Yeah, of course.”

Lando glanced at her with a grin. “What did you think we did?”

Morgan shrugged, looking out the window. “I don’t know… had a personal shopper or something?”

“Nah, we still do normal stuff,” Lando said with a small smile. “Honestly, I kinda like it. Feels… regular.”

Y/N snorted, not looking up from her phone. “He just likes sneaking junk food into the cart while I’m actually trying to buy things we need.”

Ethan laughed. “Don’t you get, like, mobbed when you go out?”

Lando nodded. “Not mobbed… but filmed, yeah. People ask for photos. You just get used to it after a while.”

“Yeah, well, I saw a pap shot of you two making out in your Ferrari the other day,” Morgan teased, shooting Lando a knowing look. “Cheeky bastard—couldn’t even wait ‘til you got home?”

Y/N groaned, covering her face with her hands as Lando laughed. “Oh my god, why does the whole world have to see that?”

Inside the grocery store, Y/N was pushing the cart while the three of them trailed behind her like ducklings. As expected, Lando’s presence earned them a few lingering stares—some people even sneaking their phones up to record.

“I feel like a celebrity,” Ethan whispered dramatically.

Morgan rolled his eyes. “You idiot, you are with a celebrity.”

Lando chuckled at that, but he and Y/N had already drifted ahead, casually chatting as they browsed the shelves, momentarily forgetting about the camera filming them.

Morgan smirked, turning to the lens and zooming in on the couple. “Gotta admit, they’re pretty damn cute.”

A few meters away, Y/N and Lando had paused in front of a shelf, seemingly in the middle of a heated debate.

“Ohhh,” Ethan grinned, watching them from afar. “The parents are fighting.”

Before Morgan could respond, Ethan jogged over to investigate.

"— we already have like sixty of these at home."

"But Lan...this one’s ocean breeze," Y/N insists, shoving the candle under Lando’s nose like it’s the most important purchase of their lives.

Lando sighs dramatically, giving her a look. "And what, the other sixty are not breezy enough for you?"

Y/N bats their lashes innocently. "Nope. This one speaks to my soul."

With a groan that’s more for show than actual protest, Lando grabs the candle and tosses it into the cart. "Fine. But if our house starts smelling like a tropical resort, I’m blaming you."

"I take it the missus is always right?" Ethan teases, watching the exchange with an amused grin.

Lando huffs, but when he looks over at Y/N, who’s beaming like they just won the lottery, he just shakes his head with a smile. "Unfortunately… yes."

------------------------------------------------

By lunchtime, they were back at the apartment. The boys had gathered around the kitchen, watching as Y/N effortlessly whipped up a quick pasta dish while Lando stood to the side, assisting.

"Mate, you're literally just standing there holding a cheese grater," Morgan chuckled, shaking his head. "You don’t have to keep pretending in front of the cameras."

Y/N let out a laugh, sneaking a glance at Lando, who was hovering near her with all the enthusiasm of a kitchen decoration. "He always does this. He'll ask if I need help and then just stand there like a lost puppy."

"Why am I being targeted?!" Lando exclaimed, throwing his hands up, the cheese grater still in one of them.

Ethan smirked. "Has Lando ever actually cooked for you, Y/N? Considering he doesn't even use the oven"

Y/N paused, thinking for a moment before nodding. "He has, actually."

"Was it edible?"

"Wow," Lando scoffed, scandalized.

Y/N giggled, nudging him with her elbow. "It was! He made that TikTok pasta recipe. It was pretty good, actually." She shot Lando a playful grin before adding, "He did use nearly every single pot and pan we own, though."

Morgan and Ethan burst out laughing as Lando rolled his eyes. Y/N, still grinning, reached up and gave his cheek a gentle teasing pinch before handing out the plates. "But hey, at least he tried."

They sat around the dining table, eating, chatting, and answering a few lighthearted questions—all while playing a passive game of UNO.

"What do you typically do when Lando’s away during race weekends? I take it you don’t attend every race?" Ethan asked, casually dropping a Draw Two card onto the pile.

"Yeah, I only go to a handful of races," Y/N nodded, picking up her new cards. "I usually stay here and work. Try to get stuff done with Quadrant every now and then too."

Morgan smirked. "Does he get needy when he's gone for too long?"

Lando let out a chuckle, shaking his head, but Y/N grinned knowingly. "I wouldn’t say needy… but he does get a bit pouty when he’s tired."

"Pouty?!" Morgan repeated, dramatically scandalized. He turned to Lando, pointing his fork at him in mock disappointment. "At your big age of 26? Lando, mate—really?"

Lando groaned, throwing down an UNO Reverse card aggressively. "Okay, first of all, rude. Second of all, I don’t pout."

"Oh, you definitely do," Y/N countered, nudging him playfully. "FaceTime calls at like 2 AM, all sulky, saying 'I'm so tired' , 'I miss you', 'Wish you were here', in the whiniest voice."

Ethan burst out laughing. "Oh, that’s fantastic. Please tell me you have screenshots."

Y/N smirked. "Oh, I have videos."

Lando's eyes widened as he dropped his fork. "You traitor!"

"It's cute!" Y/N argues, crossing her arms as Lando groans dramatically.

Ethan chuckles before shifting the topic. "And your favorite race on the calendar that you attend?"

"Oh... it depends, really," Y/N muses, twirling her fork in her pasta. "I love Japan—it’s such a beautiful country. But maybe Silverstone is high up there? Since it’s his home race and I get to spend time with his family for pretty much the whole week. And honestly, any race that Cisca attends. She's a sweetheart."

"Lando’s mum, right?" Ethan clarifies.

Y/N nods. "Yep!"

Lando scoffs, leaning back in his chair. "More like her mum now."

Morgan smirks. "Has she taken over your family too?"

"Oh, absolutely," Lando groans. "Whenever I have time off and tell them I’m coming home to visit, they always ask if she’s tagging along."

"They don’t even try to hide it anymore," he continues, shaking his head. "Always catch her on FaceTime with my sisters or my mum, like I'm the guest in my own family."

Y/N grins proudly. "They have good taste."

----------------------------------------------------

A couple more hours had passed, and now it was later in the day. The four of them were back in the car, but this time, the city was bathed in a glow of streetlights, making for a much different vibe compared to earlier. The camera captured them in their seats as they navigated through the illuminated streets, casual conversation filling the car.

It was dinner time, and Lando had officially declared it a cheat day, deciding they’d grab something quick for dinner.

"Please tell me we're getting McDonald's," Morgan groaned from the back seat. "I've been craving those mozzarella sticks since we got here."

The rest of them laughed, and Lando smirked as he kept his eyes on the road. "We actually are."

"Be honest," Morgan pressed, leaning forward slightly. "How often do you just say ‘fuck it’ and grab takeout?"

Lando chuckled, rubbing his jaw. "More than I’d like to admit."

"Cheeky bastard. Bet they know your usual by now."

Lando laughed, shaking his head. "I literally beg Y/N not to tell me when she’s ordering takeout," he admitted. "That McFlurry is just too damn good."

Y/N grinned, glancing at him from the passenger seat. "Yeah, and then the second I get it, he’s suddenly all 'Oh, let me just have a bite.'"

Morgan and Ethan burst out laughing.

"One bite turns into half," Ethan added knowingly.

"EXACTLY!" Y/N exclaimed, pointing at Lando.

Lando huffed, gripping the wheel. "Okay, in my defense, you always order the best stuff. It’s not my fault you have impeccable taste."

Y/N smirked. "Yeah, yeah. Keep sweet-talking me all you want, but you’re still buying your own McFlurry this time."

------------------------------------------------------------

"Thank you for today. I’m sure the viewers will love seeing this side of you two," Ethan says, giving both Lando and Y/N a hug as they say their goodbyes.

"Oh, it’s a pleasure having you guys here. Thank you," Y/N replies warmly.

"Don’t miss us too much," Morgan teases, pulling them into a hug as well—only to cheekily pat Lando’s bum on the way out.

Lando gasps, feigning offense. "You wish you could handle all this."

Morgan cackles as he grabs his bag, while Ethan keeps the camera rolling as they head toward the door, still filming.

The lens zooms in on Lando and Y/N, who stand by their doorway, watching their friends leave.

"So, how are you two ending your night?" Ethan asks, turning back toward them.

Lando, with a soft smile, casually wraps an arm around Y/N’s waist and pulls her closer. "Probably a movie night."

Morgan chuckles, shaking his head as he presses the elevator button. "More like sexy time—dirty bastard." He gestures toward Lando with a knowing smirk. "Look at him. Couldn’t be happier to finally get rid of us and have Y/N all to himself."

Lando, completely unbothered, just grins. "And what about it?"

3K notes · View notes

planetaryupscaled · 7 months ago

Text

Best Friends Share Everything

Male Reader x Yunjin x Karina

Tags: 18k, smut, creampie, oral, threesome, tw

The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.

Yunjin tugged at her clothes. “Look, can’t we just get naked again? This shirt itches. And these pants are too tight.”

“I’m not comfortable either, but your friend will be here soon. We can put up with it for one evening.” I said, “And then I get to undress you. I hardly ever get to do that anymore. Taking off your clothes always feels like Christmas.”

Yunjin smiled and shook her head, then went back to tidying up her living room. I turned back to preparing dinner before her best friend arrived.

Hearing Yunjin complain about wearing clothes was such a remarkable change from the shy, reluctant girl I’d met only three months before. When we first met, I discovered a girl inhibited by years of shame, guilt and fear about sex and men instilled by her extremely strict upbringing. She had barely dated anyone, and had only had sex couple times with the same inexperienced guy.

After our weekend of camping and sexual adventure, she became a changed woman. Yunjin still felt some shame when we were together, but the fear was gone and she was rapidly releasing her pent-up desires and curiosity about sex. Such a beautiful transformation to witness. I admired her courage and loved that I was the target of Yunjin’s blossoming sexual freedom.

Surprisingly, the nudity helped. It was new to us both, but whether she was at my place or hers, she insisted we shuck off our clothes the moment we closed the apartment door. Just doing normal things without clothes felt great, and somehow it helped us to be more open with each other. It was more difficult to keep secrets when all your intimate bits are on full display. We were so used to being naked that it wasn’t sexual, just, freeing.

Regardless, I still caught myself staring at her beauty. Yunjin had modest boobs with an unusually narrow waist that flared out to womanly hips and an ass that was broad and toned. I could look at her all day and never grow tired.

Yunjin had invited her best friend Karina for dinner as a thank you, of sorts. I knew Karina a little through one of my close friends, and it was her who suggested Yunjin and I should meet.

“You did actually talk to her before, right?” asked Yunjin as she fussed, straightening up her apartment.

I was at her stove, cooking. I called back, “Only a few times. It’s my friend who really knows her. She was there many times when we went out drinking.”

“Did you ever ask her out?”

“C’mon, she would have told you that. She’s your best friend. No, I never got to know her that well. I thought she was already taken.”

“Oh, she’s constantly ‘taken’. Then ‘untaken’. And ‘taken’ again. She never keeps a guy for long.”

“But she’s gorgeous,” I said.

It’s true. Karina was a beauty: tall with elegant features, tight ass, big boobs. She was a walking wet dream to most guys.

“You know, you’re not supposed to tell your girlfriend that another woman is gorgeous.”

“Oh, right. Sorry. What I meant to say was that I could see how some guys might find her attractive, but she’s a bitch compared to the radiant, heart stopping beauty of my lovely, funny and brilliant Yunjin.”

A couch cushion sailed from the living room and hit me in the back of my head.

“Hey!” I exclaimed. “No disturbing the chef or dinner will be ruined.” I tossed the cushion back to Yunjin.

“Since it’s you cooking, dinner is probably already ruined.”

“Ouch. C’mon, you have to admit I do okay for a guy. Of course, I don’t have your genetic advantage.”

Yunjin looked puzzled. “What?”

“You know… the cooking and cleaning genes that women possess. No guy can ever compete with that.”

Yunjin opened her mouth to say something but then looked at the can of furniture polish in her hand and at her made appetiser laid out on the coffee table.

We were still laughing and calling each other mean names when the bell rang.

Yunjin let Karina in and she kissed her on the cheek. When I extended my hand to shake hers, Karina pulled me close and kissed my cheek too.

“So, you’re the guy who saved Yunjin.”

“Nice to see you again, Karina,” I said. “Save her? I prefer to think that I’ll be the ruin of her. Bet her parents think that already.”

Karina smiled. “They would if they knew what you two have been doing.”

I went back to cooking and let the girls talk. When the food was ready, Karina helped us serve. We opened some cheap wine, then I proposed a toast.

“To Karina. Who insisted Yunjin and I meet and is therefore the cause of her imminent ruin.” The girls chuckled then we clinked glasses.

From the few brief times I had talked to Karina before, I knew she was brash and straightforward, so I was a little anxious. I needed to make a good impression since the pair had been best friends since high school. Karina studying me intensely at the start of dinner didn’t help, but soon she was joking and telling embarrassing stories about Yunjin as if all of us were old friends.

“I never knew that getting your brains fucked out would have changed you so much, Yunjin.” Karina said and eyed me for a reaction.

Yunjin gasped, “Karina!”

“Well, it’s true,” said Karina. “You’ve changed so much since hooking up with this guy. I’ve tried so many times to draw you out of your shell. Guess that’s what’s made us such good friends, huh? Guy troubles.”

I poured us all more wine and said, “Okay, Karina, that’s what I don’t get. You’re beautiful and you seem to have your act together, yet Yunjin says you have trouble finding good guys. But everyone must be tripping over themselves for you.”

Karina paused, then said, “Yeah, that’s the problem.”

“Uh…”

Yunjin said, “What she means is, Karina attracts every asshole in the universe. What is it you call your theory?”

“The ‘Too Fucking Pretty’ Syndrome,” said Karina.

“Yeah, that, Arrogant assholes are always trying to get in her pants. And nice guys think they don’t stand a chance so they stay away.” said Yunjin.

“Guys have been hitting on me since I was like, eight.”

“Well, that’s disgusting,” I said.

“Welcome to my world. Everywhere its cat-calls on the street and macho dipshits who want to claim me as their trophy.”

I paused. “You know… to be honest, I think I’m guilty of that too. I never even considered approaching you when we hung out at the bars with Doyun.”

“See? Now if you had, maybe it’d be me telling Yunjin how happy I am, instead of the other way around.”

I didn’t know how to process that bizarre comment, so I said “But you can approach guys too. And online it’s easy.”

“Oh, it is. But guys see my pictures and think they’re fake, or I’m trolling. But I shouldn’t complain. I have found a few good guys.” Karina replied.

“Well, that’s great.” I said.

“One guy moved away, another guys challenging him.”

“Challenging him?”

“The ‘hey baby, drop that loser and come get with a real man’ thing. And when the assholes didn’t take ‘go fuck yourself’ for an answer, there was always a fistfight. He got tired of it. So did another guy I saw for a while.”

“Well,” I said. “Then I guess you’re screwed. Either you make yourself ugly, which would take an awful lot of work, or give up and become a nun. I hear there’s a big demand for nuns right now.”

Karina scoffed and Yunjin threw an eye at me.

Yunjin laughed, “You’re such an asshole.”

“Are all this guy’s jokes this same ‘dad joke’ level of quality?” Karina said.

“Oh, mostly,” said Yunjin. “Imagine how bad the jokes would be if he ever did become a dad? I’d have to leave him.”

Karina cast a catty look at Yunjin

“From what you told me; you almost did make him a dad.”

Yunjin blushed and lowered her eyes.

“Yeah… that was bad. I’m on the pill now.”

I interrupted. “Hold on there. Just how much did Yunjin tell you about our camping trip?”

“Everything,” said Karina and Yunjin in unison.

“Yunjin!? what the hell?” I said, dumbfounded.

“What? She’s my best friend. We tell each other everything.”

“Well, shit. Now I feel completely exposed.”

“Oh yeah, speaking of that,” said Karina, “You know, Yunjin, at school you never even got naked in the locker room. Always covered up with a towel. Then you spend a whole weekend naked with this guy? Did he hypnotize you or something?”

I leaned back and rested my hands behind my head. “It’s just my charisma and masculine charm.”

“Oh, ew,” said Karina, wrinkling her nose.

“You should try it!” Yunjin said, “It was really weird at first but then you feel, well… free. Not a care in the world.”

Karina eyed me. “Not with some guy’s ‘dick’ waggling at me all the time.”

“But it’s not like that,” said Yunjin. “Well, okay, maybe at first. But then it becomes normal and—”

Karina interrupted. “Sounds like you’ve been reading propaganda or something.”

“I don’t know,” Yunjin said. “I just know that we like it.”

“We? You mean it wasn’t just that weekend? You’re still walking around all naked even now?”

Yunjin blushed again. “Well… yeah. It’s just normal for us now. I guess we’ve kinda, like it, when we’re alone.”

“So, if I wasn’t here…” said Karina.

Yunjin shrugged, “…we’d be naked right now.”

Karina sat back in her chair and exhaled. “Holy shit. You two are crazy.”

The wine flowed as the conversation progressed. Karina was clearly intrigued, so I said, “It’s not a big deal. Why don’t you just try it?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I bet you’d like that.”

“Well, not now!” I said, “No, I mean try going without clothes at home sometime. Like Yunjin said, it becomes normal pretty quickly. Even my ‘dick’ used to it.” I smiled.

If we hadn’t all been a little drunk, we wouldn’t have been having such a conversation. But we were all feeling a little loose.

When dinner was cleaned up, Yunjin and I joined Karina on the couch with a fresh bottle of wine. We chatted and joked, getting to know each other, even getting into arguments about some stuff. Like Yunjin, Karina was funny and smart on current events. She made some well-considered arguments during the conversations, always with a wry sense of humour. I liked her immediately.

Karina took a gulp then said, “So how would we do this?”

“Do what?” Yunjin asked.

“Get naked. You say it’s so great. I want to try.”

“What, now? You should just do it at home.”

“But that’s not the same, is it? I’m naked at home every time I take shower. Doing it around other people is the thing. And to you two it’s normal, so… why not?”

I was shocked, and Yunjin, looking at me, seemed equally surprised.

“Karina, are you serious?” asked Yunjin.

“We always share everything, right? And where else could I try such a thing with people I know and can trust? So, how do we do this?”

“Uh, well, I don’t know. If we were to do it, I guess we could turn off the lights and see if you were comfortable.” I said.

“Okay.”

Yunjin looked at me, unsure. “Karina, it’s not a big deal for us. But I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“Oh relax. I’m a big girl. And like you said, it’s only skin. Just turn off the lights.”

So we turned off every light in the apartment. Only the dim night-time glow of the city through the windows lit the room. Yunjin and I undressed. It felt so good to get everything off. I took the clothes into her bedroom.

When I returned, Yunjin hugged me, her naked body warm against mine.

“Think she’ll be okay?” she asked.

“Who’s speaking, please?” I joked, groping Yunjin’s face. “I’m more concerned I won’t get to see any of her at all. It’s so dark in here.”

We looked over and Karina was a silhouette at the windows, looking out. Then she took a breath and stripped, putting her clothes on a chair. She went back to the window, her slender body an enticing outline, and stood toying with a gold chain she had kept around her neck.

Yunjin and I sat on the couch and sipped our drinks. After a few minutes, Karina came over. There was barely enough light to see even shadows. I expected Karina to sit in one of the chairs on the other side of the coffee table, but she plopped down right beside me on the couch.

“So,” she said. “How’s that ‘dick’ of yours?”

We laughed.

“Quite a way to spend an evening,” Karina said. “Sitting here naked beside my best friend’s boyfriend. And Yunjin over there… a few months ago she was certain she’d be dragged to hell if she even looked at a guy. Now she’s sitting here, tits out, sipping wine like it’s nothing.”

“I’ve been pushing my comfort zone, like you always said I should. Anyway, now that’s we’re all, uh, comfortable, we do have a dessert prepared if you’re interested.” Yunjin said

“Oh yeah! The best part of every meal.” said Karina. “What’ve you got?”

“Chocolate fondue,” answered Yunjin.

“You two planned all of this, didn’t you? What’s next, a game of naked Twister?”

Once we finished laughing at that, Yunjin got the little fondue pot and tray of fruit from the kitchen, setting it on the coffee table. She lit the candle under the pot where it cast enough light for me to see Karina more clearly. Her breasts were beautiful: large for her slender body but perfectly shaped.

“I’ve never had this,” said Karina. “How do we do this?”

“It’s easy,” said Yunjin. “Take a fork, spear some fruit from the tray, dip it in the chocolate. We have pineapple, orange slices, strawberries, grapes and gum drops.”

“Gum drops are fruit?”

“They are when you’ve run out of fruit.”

“Here you go,” I said, handing Karina one of the long fondue forks. “Careful where you aim that thing.”

“Same to you, I’ve got bigger targets than you.” She glanced towards her boobs.

We started eating. I turned to Yunjin and fed her a chocolate covered strawberry. She fed me a grape in return. Karina dipped some pineapple into chocolate and moved it towards her mouth. I watched as a glob of chocolate dripped onto one breast.

Karina saw me looking at her boob. I glanced up at her, then licked my lips like a puppy, giving her a pleading, hopeful look.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” she laughed. “Don’t get any ideas. Got a napkin?”

Yunjin had been watching. Suddenly, she leaned across me and licked the chocolate from her friend’s boob.

Karina recoiled, covering her breast. “Yunjin, What the hell?”

Yunjin giggled. “Sorry, we’re all out of napkins.”

“Oh my God. You really are a changed woman.”

Then Karina noticed I was looking at her expectantly.

“What?” she said.

“I get to do the next one.”

Karina leaned forward and speared a strawberry. She twirled it in the chocolate then taking very deliberate aim, held it high above my lap and let a dollop of warm chocolate fall right onto the tip of my cock.

We sat there for a moment, all of us looking down at my chocolate covered dick.

Then Yunjin looked at Karina and said, “Flip a coin?”

Both girls must’ve thought that was hilarious.

“See if I ever get naked with you two again,” I said. I started to get up to look for a napkin but Karina pulled me back down, grinning wickedly. She lowered her head then licked the chocolate right off the tip of my cock.

“Karina!” exclaimed Yunjin.

Karina sat back up and said, “A good guest always cleans up her own messes.” She looked at me to gauge my reaction.

Yunjin stuck two fingers into the chocolate and reached across me to smear it on her friend’s boobs. Karina did the same to Yunjin, and when she leaned across me, her large chocolate-covered tit slid across my chest and coated me. So I pulled her head to my chest and rubbed her face against it. Karina then sat up, grabbed my head with both hands and pulled me right into her soft messy boobs, rubbing my face all around.

When it was over, the three of us had chocolate all over our faces and chests. We sat back laughing.

Yunjin came to her senses first. “Okay, everybody stand up! I don’t want to get any on the couch.”

We stood up and Yunjin turned on a table lamp. While she leaned over to examine the couch, Karina and I stood facing each other. It was the first time we were in full light since taking off our clothes. We stood there, inspecting each other’s bodies. Even smeared with chocolate, Karina was stunning and judging from the trimmed patch between her legs. Karina also checked me out in detail, wearing a slightly hungry expression.

“Well, we’re lucky,” Yunjin said, “None got on the couch.” She stood up and Karina and I looked away from each other.

“A food fight, tsk tsk tsk, Totally childish, you guys” said Yunjin.

“You started it,” Karina said, “But it was fun! I haven’t had a food fight before, and… naked Infront of people”

“Yes, I can cross that off my bucket list,” I said.

“You had ‘naked chocolate food fight with two girls’ on your bucket list?” asked Karina.

“Well, yeah. Every guy does.”

Karina shook her head and shared a look with Yunjin. “Men,” they said, shaking their heads.

“Okay,” said Yunjin. ‘Let’s get cleaned up.’ When she saw Karina and I glance at each other’s chocolate covered bodies, she added “and no, no one is using their tongue.”

“Awww,” Karina and I said in unison.

“Come on, Karina. We’ll show you the shower.”

“Can you turn that light off?” Karina asked.

“Oh, yes. Sorry.” Yunjin switched off the table lamp. Our night vision ruined, each of us were again only shadows.

“Thanks,” said Karina. “I’m still getting used to this nudity thing. It does help to keep the lights off.”

“Well,” I said, “we’re not going to find the bathroom without some light.” I lit a candle and held in front of me as I led the way to Yunjin’s bathroom.

Yunjin started the shower while I set the candle on the counter. While Yunjin adjusted the water, I noticed Karina looking at me again, a wistful expression on her face. She was fingering her gold chain.

“Okay, Karina. Go on in.” Yunjin said.

Karina got a mischievous look. “Let’s shower together.”

“Are you serious?”

“Come on! We’ve already seen each other. It’ll be quicker.” Karina grabbed my hand and tugged me into the shower behind her.

“Hang on,” Yunjin said from the other side of the shower curtain, “I have to get towels.”

Karina stood under the shower, water streaming down her lovely body in the dim candle light. She pulled me close and looked up at me with a serious expression.

“Hi,” she said. It was almost a whisper.

“Uh, hi, Karina,” I said, unsure of what she was doing.

Yunjin stepped in behind us.

“Come get wet you two,” said Karina.

Three people in the apartment’s little bathtub shower was a tight fit. It took some awkward maneuver for each of us to take turns under the water. I was standing under the spray, soaping Yunjin’s firm breasts as Karina soaped her back. I reached lower and ran my soapy fingers between Yunjin’s legs. She squirmed a little, and then forced my hand away, shaking her head as she glanced back towards Karina.

“We don’t want her to feel uncomfortable,” she whispered.

I spun us around until Yunjin was under the spray, my back to Karina. Yunjin soaped up my chest while Karina began cleaning my back. Yunjin briefly ran her hand over my dick, trying not to excite me. Behind, Karina pressed her breasts against my back and started kneading my ass.

“No fair, guys,” Karina complained. “No one is cleaning me.”

So I traded places with Karina, putting her between Yunjin and me. I looked towards Yunjin to see if it was okay, but she was busy washing her best friend’s back. Karina grabbed my hands and placed them right on her breasts. She gave a deep sigh then just stood there as I slid my soapy hands all over them, feeling their firmness, their weight, her warmth. Karina eyes never once left mine.

Behind her, Yunjin said, “Okay, I’m clean. Karina, I’ll get out so you can rinse off. She stepped out the curtain. Karina backed herself under the water, pulling me with her. Suddenly she reached up and pulled me into a deep kiss. Surprised, I hugged her but then pulled back. She looked at me, her eyes searching mine.

I glanced towards the closed shower curtain and whispered, “Karina, what are you doing?”

She took a deep breath and said “I… I don’t know.” She hugged me and rested her head against my chest. Then she released me, rinsed off quickly and stepped out.

I was more than half-hard now, so I turned the shower on full cold and willed my dick to relax. When I stepped out, both girls were almost dry. Yunjin handed me a towel. She looked down and noticed that I was still a little excited. Again, she shook her head in warning, indicating Karina behind her who was bending over toweling off her hair.

Back in the living room, we sat and drank more wine to the light of a candle. Instead of sitting beside me on the couch, this time Karina chose to sit in the chair opposite us. Was she upset by our experience in the shower? I couldn’t tell.

“So this is what two do when you’re together,” said Karina.

“Well, usually by this time we’re in bed.” Yunjin said, then she covered her mouth when she realized what she had said.

“Oops. Sorry.”

Karina shook her head. “It’s so amazing to hear you talk like that, Yunjin. It’s amazing you’re actually… you know,”

Yunjin snorted. “What?”

“Well, you didn’t like it when I said you were fucking each other’s brains out.”

Yunjin shook her head in disapproval.

“See? Anyway, I’m happy for you. You’ve held yourself back way too long.”

“Thanks, Karina. I’m getting used to it. It’s all been pretty wonderful.”

“So you’ve been telling me — In great detail.”

“Yunjin, you don’t actually have to tell Karina everything, you know. I’d like to think we maybe have a few secrets.” I said.

“Oh we do, I still haven’t told her you started to… oh, never mind.”

“Started to…?” Karina asked.

Yunjin looked down sheepishly and said, “Uh, you know. Use his mouth. Down there.”

“Holy shit, Yunjin, Some things you can keep private, you know.” I said.

“Well, let’s see. You run around naked every chance you get; she likes giving you blowjobs because of how cute you look when you come. Doggy style is your favorite position, girl on top is hers, but she won’t do anal. And now you’re eating her out. Did I miss anything?” Karina said.

Yunjin’s mouth hung open, mortified.

“You like it?” Karina asked.

“What?”

“When he uses his mouth — Down there.”

“Uh, well. It’s actually pretty fantastic. He makes me come every time.”

Karina looked surprised. “Bullshit. Not every time.”

“Well, yes. So far.”

Karina sighed. “Wow. No guy has ever made me come.”

Yunjin exclaimed “But you’ve been with lots of guys.”

Karina wrinkled her nose. “Not ‘lots’. But most have been too interested in getting themselves off to bother much with me.”

“But fucking, er, I mean…”

“That never does it for me.”

“Oh it does for me.” said Yunjin. “Not every time, of course, but often enough.”

“But him eating you out does every time? So come on, tell me. What does he do, exactly? Guys have done that to me and it’s just been kind of… meh.”

“Uh, ladies, come on now…”

Ignoring me, Yunjin said, “Well, I don’t really know. It’s not like I take notes. He just… does things. Lots of things. And then I’m gone.”

Karina turned to me, “So? What’s the secret? How can you make her come every time?”

I sighed. “Clearly there aren’t going to be any secrets with you two. So, okay. How can I explain something like that? I guess I just try to figure out what she likes best. Then I tease a little… you know, get her close, make her want it, take my time.”

“And you like doing it?”

“Oh yeah.” I looked at Yunjin. “I could come just watching Yunjin when she gets excited.”

Yunjin kissed me on the cheek, eyes gleaming in the candlelight.

Yunjin thought for a moment. She leaned against me then whispered, “We could show her, you know.”

“Huh?”

“Show her. You can’t tell her what you do. So maybe can she just… see for herself?”

“Okay, no more wine for you, Yunjin.”

“What? She’s already seen us naked, and we’ve already done some crazy things tonight. She’s my best friend.” She turned to Karina, “We could show you, then maybe you could teach the next guy you’re with.”

Karina sat, mouth half open. But clearly she was interested. She looked at me and blinked. “Uh, sure. So, uh, you mean make a video or something?”

I looked at Yunjin. She was looking at me with excited eyes.

“No,” she said. “Who would hold the camera? I mean, he could just do it with me and you could, uh, you know… watch?”

“Yunjin,” I said, “I think you might just want to show off for your friend. Or you’ve discovered a voyeuristic side. Let’s not do anything you’ll regret later.”

“It’s just us here,” she said. She pulled me close and whispered in my ear, “and I’m so horny. So, either we kick Karina out right now, or in three seconds she’s going to watch me fuck you right on this couch.”

I whispered back, “But that’s not what you want her to see, is it?” Yunjin just looked at me, breathing with excitement.

I sighed, then stood and pulled Yunjin to her feet. “Karina, we’re going to the bedroom. I think Yunjin wants you to follow.”

“And you?” said Karina. “Would you be okay with that?”

“I don’t even know. It’s not like we’ve ever done anything even remotely like this. But I’ll do anything for Yunjin if it makes her happy, and I guess it is just us after all. Guess we’ll just have to see.”

I led Yunjin down the dark hallway into her bedroom, leaving the door wide. We lit the candles we always kept in her room and stripped the covers off the bed. I hugged and kissed her deeply. She was breathing heavily and looking at me with longing.

Yunjin lay on the bed and spread her knees. I got on top of her and we embraced and kissed. When I reached down, I discovered she was already completely wet. She ran her hand lovingly over my cheek.

“Do it. Please. Eat me. Make me cum.”

I slid down between her legs. Yunjin’s delightful little pussy was glistening in the candlelight, Then I felt the bed shift and beautiful, naked Karina was right beside me. I was so enraptured with Yunjin I’d forgotten she was still with us. Karina looked up at Yunjin, and then looked at me.

Her tongue wet her lips. “Show me,” she whispered.

I reached out with two fingers and stroked down along the mound of Yunjin’s clit. Yunjin moaned and pushed her hips up off the bed. I stroked her with my thumb then lightly licked her clit with just the tip of my tongue. As always, Yunjin responded so beautifully, gasping, writhing, and trying to push my face into her as I teased, licked and massaged her clit. I kept at her for several minutes, playing, doing things I knew she loved, experimenting with other things to see how she would react, bringing her to the edge and trying to keep her there without going over.

Karina had her head propped on one elbow, watching me and occasionally looking up at Yunjin squirming and panting. When I paused to keep her from going over, Yunjin looked down and reached for Karina.

“It’s so good,” she breathed, squeezing her friend’s hand.

I went back to her. This time I inserted two fingers into her little opening and started finger fucking her as I gently sucked and tongued her clit. When I raked my thumb up along her asshole, Yunjin arched her back as her tunnel started squeezing my fingers rhythmically in orgasm.

“Huuuuh,” she groaned, mashing my head to her. She never let go of her friend’s hand while her breath caught, head flung back and body rigid in orgasm. I watched, enraptured, almost coming myself seeing my wonderful girl in such bliss.

When Yunjin regained her senses, she looked down and saw Karina and me looking back at her. She turned her head and covered her eyes in embarrassment.

“Oh God,” she said. “Don’t look at me.”

“That was beautiful,” said Karina, quietly. She squeezed Yunjin’s hand. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

At this point I was hard and in need of relief. I didn’t care if her friend was there—I needed to fuck my Yunjin.

I slid up on top of her, my dick easily finding her opening by itself, and pushed into her warmth. Yunjin wrapped an arm around me, trapped me with her legs and welcomed me. I rutted and pushed as she clung, urging me on, her tight tunnel further fueling my hunger. I pulled her legs up, placing her knees against her ears and started fucking her even deeper. There was no thought or reason then, just a blind need to possess and satisfy my lust.

Yunjin gasped, moaned, and pushed her hips up against mine, urging me on. We fucked like bunny in heat, so in love, so in lust. Then finally, I pushed into her as deep as I could and with a growl, flooded her womb with cum, blast after blast. Yunjin ground against me and moaned, eagerly accepting all I could give her.

I collapsed onto her and tried to regain my senses. We kissed and hugged, laughing, caressing, staring into each other’s eyes.

Finally, I slipped out of her and rolled off onto my back, right onto Yunjin and Karina’s outstretched arms. The two had held hands the entire time I was fucking Yunjin.

I lifted and they pulled their arms out from under me. I glanced over at Karina. She looked happy, and… hungry. It was my turn to feel embarrassed.

“Sorry,” I said. “Letting you see that wasn’t part of the deal.”

Karina said nothing. She just caressed my cheek and pressed her body against mine as she reached an arm across and hugged Yunjin and me.

Yunjin lifted her head. Exhausted, she asked, “So, did you see?”

“I saw. oh, did I ever see. It’s like some porn movie with you guys.” She paused. “Actually, it’s nothing like porn. You’re so… loving. Tender. Except for that last part. I thought he was going to break you in half.”

The three of us lay in silence as the candles cast wavering shadows around the room. Karina clung to my side, arm across my chest, head on my shoulder, while absently pushing her hips against my leg. Yunjin cuddled against my other side.

Karina started to get up. “I’ll leave you love birds alone now.”

Yunjin reached over to grasp her arm. “Stay.”

“It’s okay, Yunjin. You guys need your alone time. Besides, if I don’t get out of here right now, I’m going to jump your boyfriend.”

Yunjin gave her friend a sympathetic look then pulled my face to hers. She studied my face for a moment then whispered, “Do it to her.”

“What?” I whispered back. “Fuck your friend?”

“Lick her. She said no guy has ever made her come. You could do it… I know you could. And I know you like her.”

Yunjin seemed serious, but I said, “That’s going way too far.”

“Why? She likes you too, you know. A lot. I see it. But it’s okay. She’s my best friend.”

I still couldn’t tell if Yunjin really meant what she was saying. So I decided to test her.

I turned to face Karina. Then I looked down at her pussy, back up to her face and licked my lips, giving her a pleading, hopeful look like a puppy who’d eyed a forbidden meal.

Karina chucked. “Oh for fuck’s sake,” she laughed. Then, “No way. You can’t be serious.” She looked past me to Yunjin.

Yunjin was still holding Karina’s arm. “It’s okay,” she said.

“Let him really show you. Make you come.”

Karina looked back to me and saw my expression. I wanted to… I really am, especially now that it was clear that Yunjin was okay with it.

I stroked Karina’s cheek lovingly. She blinked, and then closed her eyes, pushing her face against my hand. After a long pause, she took a breath and lay back on the bed, pushing my head down.

“Go. Do it. But it won’t work.”

I could not believe what was happening. I slid down and positioned myself between Karina’s legs but it felt surreal. I fully expected Karina or Yunjin to change their minds at any moment. But Yunjin propped herself up to watch, her excitement visible, then nodded encouragement.

Karina was looking down at me too, mouth half-open, eyes filled with anticipation. I decided then I would try to make her come harder than she had ever come in her life.

Karina’s pussy was exquisite, a work of art. From her trimmed patch of hair to her shape, so different from Yunjin. It was a beautiful sight, and the scent of her arousal excited me even more.

I started gently with just fingers and the palm of my hand, teasing, massaging, exploring. Karina gave little gasps and moans, her hips rising and falling.

Karina sighed, “Okay. Okay. That’s… nice. Oh… oh shit. Good. That’s… ohmygod, yes do that. That’s… hunngh…” She stroked my hair and tilted her hips to give me better access as her ability to speak faded.

I started exploring and playing with determination, trying different things, trying to get a sense of what she liked best. But everything seemed to drive Karina on. She was gasping and puffing and groaning, trying to mash my face into her. I kept at her, teasing at first, then diving in insistently.

Glancing up, I saw and Yunjin right beside her, watching her friend’s face and holding her hand while Karina, eyes closed, grimaced, gasped, sighed and moaned.

I had always been able to read Yunjin’s reactions well, but Karina was like unexplored territory. I played and teased, trying things I knew Yunjin loved, trying other things just to see Karina’s reactions. When I slid two fingers inside her and curled my fingers to massage her g-spot, within minutes Karina surprised me when she froze, lifting her hips. She came with a strangled grunt, her inner walls squeezing rhythmically as she pushed my face hard into her with one hand and gripped Yunjin’s with the other. Her breathing paused as her head flung back and she writhed and arched.

I held on until Karina let out an explosive breath and her body grew limp.

When I extracted my face from between her thighs and looked up, Karina and Yunjin were looking at me — Yunjin bright-eyed and proud, Karina looking like she had run a marathon. What a rewarding sight. I lay my head on Karina’s toned tummy, staring up as her breathing was back to normal.

Then I slide lower to start on her again. Karina gasped when I licked her pussy to her clit then worked her to orgasm twice more in rapid succession. Finally, she pushed me away.

“Enough. Oh my god, stop. You’re going to kill me.”

I wiped my mouth and slid up between the two girls.

Yunjin was beaming. “That was amazing,” she said.

Karina was panting, her skin flushed and her eyes glassy. One hand toyed absently with a breast. I was rock hard, of course, and Yunjin noticed my distress. But when I indicated that I wanted to fuck her again, Yunjin pushed me towards her friend.

“Go ahead,” she whispered. “She needs that too.”

I was beyond arguing the merits of what we were doing. I rolled over onto Karina’s side.

She opened her eyes and looked at me quizzically.

“Hi,” I said. “So, was that a little better than doing it yourself?”

Karina said nothing. She just grabbed my head and kissed me. I kissed her back, stroking her hair, her face, her tits, and then her pussy lips. While we kissed, I worked myself halfway on top of her. Karina then opened her legs, I settled between them, kissing and stroking her the entire time.

Despite having come in Yunjin not long ago, I was beyond hard. I was hesitant to fuck Karina but then I felt Yunjin’s hand grasp my cock and slide me up and down her best friend’s slit then position me at Karina entrance.

Karina pushed my head away from hers and said, “Uh hey, you guys? Listen…”

Yunjin whispered in my ear, “Push.”

“Huuuhh…” Karina arched her back and spread her legs, taking me halfway inside her. I withdrew, then on the next stroke seated myself in her all the way. Karina pushed back on my chest, her mouth open and eyes wide, gurgling incoherently. I pulled out then pushed myself into her again.

“Uuuh! God!” Karina breathed. She looked at me in wide-eyed wonder then wrapped her arms around my neck. Her eyes narrowed into a needful expression then she lay back and whispered, “Oh, fuck it. Fuck me. Just… fuck me.”

Karina was tighter than Yunjin, and felt different in many other little ways. Her pussy resisted more each time I pushed in, and clung tighter when withdrew. I buried myself in her all the way and held myself there, Karina squeezed her inner muscles like she wanted to trap my cock there, nice and nestled in her depths. Then she pushed her hips back, drawing me deeper into her.

I fucked her urgently, insistently, hungrily. I tried to control the animal part of my brain, wanting it to last. That such a beautiful, delightful woman was letting me fuck her was mind-blowing. That she was Yunjin’s best friend, and I was fucking her with Yunjin’s permission was beyond incredible.

We kept at it, hard and soft, gently fornicating then giving into primal desire and rutting like starved beasts. We kissed, we embraced, we looked into each other’s eyes. Was Yunjin jealous? No. She held Karina’s hand throughout, sometimes stroking my cheek or back as I fucked her best friend. I let go of worry and focused completely on Karina’s.

Soon Karina’s movements became more desperate. I fucked her steadily, sometimes pulling out completely then pushing back and forth just inside her opening before sliding in deep. Then Karina inhaled a short gasp, wriggled against me hard and froze, clamping onto my dick as she came once more. I rammed into her once, twice, then was consumed by an eye-rolling, ball-draining orgasm, flooding the gorgeous, needful woman with everything I had left.

I stayed on top of Karina, weakened by the intensity of my orgasm, stroking her face and hair, giving her light kisses as we recovered. Then I slid over onto the bed between the girls, exhausted.

Yunjin snuggled to my side and kissed my cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered. “She really needed that.”

We rested for a while then I needed to get up to get us all water and find the bathroom. When I slid off the bed and got to my feet, I was treated to a memorable sight: my Yunjin and her very best friend flat on their backs, legs spread slightly, their pussies both leaking my cum.

—

During the night I woke when Yunjin climbed on top of me. The candles must have burned down — it was completely dark. I was already rock hard. My sly girl had to have been playing with me while I slept. She lined me up with her opening and slid down carefully until she fully impaled herself on my cock. She felt tighter than usual and was very wet. Yunjin let out a heavy moan of satisfaction and started riding me — her favorite position. I reached up to massage her breasts as she used me for her pleasure. They were warm, firm and way, way too large. It wasn’t Yunjin. It was Karina.

Karina slid her herself up and down, back and forth, milking my cock, taking her time. I massaged her incredible breasts, resigned to let her do what she needed. In the utter darkness, it was impossible to tell how long we went at it, but near the end I grabbed her waist and rolled Karina onto her back to take her hard. She held me tight, gasping and rutting as I fucked her until once again, I pumped her full of cum. We kissed tenderly until exhaustion overtook me.

I rolled off Karina and lay between the two girls. I held Karina’s hand and reached over to rest my other hand on Yunjin’s sleeping form. In the morning we would need to come to terms with what we had done. But there in the middle of the night, the three of us lay together as friends and lovers and, for that moment at least, we were content.

“Hon, wake up. Karina’s gone.”

Yunjin awoke and stretched, the bed sheet falling to expose her lovely breast.

“Uh? Gone? Where’d she go?”

“She was gone when I woke up.”

Yunjin yawned, trying to clear her head. Then she covered her eyes and groaned.

“Oh no. What did we do?”

I touched her arm. “We got a little carried away.”

“I’ll say. Letting you sleep with my best friend, letting her watch us… what were we thinking?”

Yunjin groaned again. “And she left? That’s bad. She’s probably so embarrassed.”

“Somehow I don’t think Karina gets embarrassed that easily.”

“Oh, you don’t know her. We’ve been friends forever. She’s outgoing, but she’s no slut.”

“I didn’t mean she was. We all just got… carried away, like you said. So should we talk to her?”

“It’s better if I talk to her first. Alone.”

“If you say so, but Yunjin, how are you feeling about it?”

Yunjin stared at the ceiling. “I don’t know. I should be horrified, right? But I think I’m okay. I never thought we’d ever do anything like that, but it went so naturally. It seemed right.”

“I thought you’d need a lot more time to think about what we did.”

“I thought about it last night… after you and Karina fucked the second time.”

“You were awake? Uh, I was going to tell you about that…”

“I know. You screwed her a second time.”

“Actually, it was more like she screwed me. When I woke up Karina was already on top of me.”

“And I bet you fought really hard to push her off too,” said Yunjin, nudging me.

“I… at first I thought it was you! Honestly. I couldn’t see anything, and you wake me up like that often enough.”

“You thought it was me? Oh, that’s so sweet! But then you realized it was Karina and…”

“…and I couldn’t stop her. I… to be honest, didn’t really want to, either. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry. I mean, I practically pushed you on her the first time. I think that means you had permission last night.”

“So you just lay there and let us do it?”

“Uh huh. Pretty hard to sleep with you two shaking the bed grunting, moaning. And well… it turned me on.”

“Oh, did it?”

Yunjin blushed. “Yeah. Don’t know why, but the thought of you making Karina feel as good as you make me feel… it’s exciting. And last night was special. She hadn’t been with anyone for so long. And she has a little crush on you, you know. I’m glad we made her happy.”

“Happy is not exactly the word I’d use. So, what does this mean?”

“What?”

“I mean, you’re okay with me sleeping with other women now? I can hit the bars and sleep with anyone I want?”

Yunjin wrinkled her nose. “Gross! No, of course not.”

“Then what, Yunjin?”

She considered. “Well, Karina’s my best friend. You’re my boyfriend. Last night was just between us.”

“So, if I slept with anyone else…”

“I’d cut your dicks off and leave you to bleed out...”

“Yunjin!”

“I’m not sharing you with just anyone. You’re the only good guy I’ve ever found. But Karina… well, we’ve always told each other everything, shared everything.” She paused. “Last night we just went too far. But it’s not like it will ever happen again. She just needed some attention.”

“I think I get it,” I said. “But look, I’ve got this good friend who’s always wanted to screw you…”

Yunjin gasped. “I’m not sleeping with any of your friends!”

“Good. And I don’t want you to. So we’re clear: you were okay ‘sharing’ me with your best friend, but I’m not okay sharing you at all. You’re mine, okay?”

“Okay,” said Yunjin, and kissed me. “I want to be yours. I don’t need anyone else. Besides, it was just one night. Oh! I’d better call her.”

Yunjin found her phone. “She’s not answering. And she’s offline. Oh! We slept in. I’ll be late for yoga. I’ll talk to Karina there.”

“You never told me Karina was in your yoga class.”

“It took a lot of persuading, but I got her to sign up. Look, why don’t you go home? Clean up, get a change of clothes. Can you come back later for dinner?”

I hugged her. “Of course. It’s Saturday. Where else would I be but with you?”

—

As I walked to my apartment building, my thoughts were on Karina. The first time I saw her, I wanted her, but she had that effect on everyone; a beauty with almost supermodel looks. Someone like her could never be interested in an ordinary guy like me. My quiet world would bore her to death.

How wrong I was. Karina admitted she would have given me a chance; Even I could hardly believe it. She seemed to have developed a thing for me since Yunjin had been telling her everything we did. Images from last night filled my head: Karina getting naked with us, showering with us, watching me with Yunjin, letting me eat her and fuck her… it was all I could think about.

When I walked into the lobby of my apartment, Karina was waiting.

“Uh, hi, What’s up? How did you know where I live?”

“Yunjin’s pointed out your building to me once. And your name’s on the directory. Can we talk?”

We rode the elevator in silence. Karina avoided my eyes.

“Apologize for the mess,” I said, Letting her inside.

“Guys are all alike. You all need a maid. Or a mother.”

“Karina, have you talked to Yunjin? You just disappeared this morning. She’s worried. She was going to meet you at yoga.”

“Oh, yoga. I forgot. Why do I let her talk me into those things?” Karina looked at her phone. “Yeah, she’s left, like, a million messages.” She started sifting through the texts and voice mail.

“Look, call her. She’s probably not at her class yet. I need to grab a shower… I still haven’t cleaned up from last night. Make yourself at home.”

Karina nodded as she thumbed Yunjin’s number.

—

In the shower, I tried to think. What was Karina doing here? Why did she just leave Yunjin’s place without a goodbye? While I was deep in thought, The shower curtain opened and a very naked Karina stepped inside.

“Karina! What the hell?”

She put her arms around me. “Yunjin didn’t answer. I haven’t had time to clean up either. Wash my back?” She smiled mischievously.

Last night, the shower with Yunjin and Karina was playful and erotic. This time it was just awkward. I soaped her up, unsure and hesitant. I admired every inch of her body as she closed her eyes to rinse.

Karina cleaned me and spent a few moments fondling me with soapy hands while she watched my face. My body couldn’t react. It felt… wrong.

We dried off, but when I went to find clothes, Karina stopped me.

“Can we just stay naked for now? I really liked it last night, Like you said, it makes being open a lot easier, somehow.”

“Uh, sure, Karina. You know I’m comfortable with it. If you are.”

Naked, she led me back to the living room and We sat on the couch.

“So, anyway, about last night…”

I interrupted. “Yunjin said says she’s fine with everything that happened.”

“Are you sure? I was certain she’d gonna need a therapy.”

“Yeah, I was worried too. But she doesn’t freak out about sex anymore. She said last night was a special thing, just between the three of us.”

“She’s come a long way. You really saved her, you know.”

“Yunjin saved herself. I just let her be who she needed to be, without judgment. And maybe encouraged her a little.”

Karina hugged me and looked into my eyes. Her expression was strange. Scared. To break the awkwardness, I asked, “So how do you feel about last nights? Don’t tell me you’ve never done a threesome before.”

“No, that was a first for me.”

“Why did you leave?”

Karina was silent, “When I woke up you two were all cuddled up together. I felt awkward, and I wasn’t sure whether Yunjin would freak out. So, I slipped out.” She said.

“So, no regrets?”

“Uh, I dunno. Maybe.” She paused. “I’m not on the pill.”

“What? Why don’t you tell me that?”

“I haven’t had a steady guy for a while. So I stopped taking it. It gives me trouble.”

“But last night… I came in you. Twice!”

“I know! I tried to say something… tried to stop you, but then you were in me and it had been so long. You were so good, and it was so hot… doing it with Yunjin like that. With her boyfriend. I planned to just let you do it for a while then get you to pull out, but when we really got going, well, I wasn’t exactly thinking. Later, I woke up and you were all naked and warm beside me and… well, you know. I don’t think I was even fully awake that second time.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “You should have said something. I could have stopped. But, I wasn’t thinking clearly either. When you let me… well, it was a dream come true.”

“Seriously?”

“I’ve been fantasized about you. But last night, I never asked you if it was okay… you know… to come in you. I should have made sure. I shouldn’t have assumed. I’m sorry.”

Karina rested her head against my shoulder.

“Anyway, shouldn’t we find a drugstore?”

“That Plan B or whatever?” said Karina. “That’s the thing. I can’t. I took it once, and it made me sick as hell. The doctor said that might be why I always had such trouble with the pill. The same stuff is in both, only more.”

“Oh. Well, it’s probably okay. When Yunjin and I did it when we were camping it turned out okay. It was just the right time in her cycle. We got lucky.”

We used my phone to find an ovulation calculator and entered Karina’s details.

“Oh, damn it, If this is right, I’m ovulating today. The worst possible time. Guess that’s why I was so horny, huh?”

“It’ll be all right.” I said, unsure what to say.

“Bullshit! I can’t have a kid. I can barely take care of myself. And my job…”

“It was both our fault. You’re not alone. If it happens, and whatever you decide, Karina, I’m with you, okay?”

She looked at me with derision. “You’re going to ‘do the honourable thing’? A woman can take care of herself, you know.”

“Of course. I just, I mean, I’m not going to take off on you. I’ll do everything I can.” I smiled, “You know… paint the baby’s room, fetch you pickles and ice cream, feed you ice chips during the delivery…”

Karina gasped and shoved me away but she smiled a little.

“You total asshole! That’s not funny!”

“I’m serious, though. I’m with you through this. We have to tell Yunjin.”

“No way. If she finds out I fucked you without protection, she’ll kill me then she’ll kills herself. You know how she is. She doesn’t need to worry along with us.”

“It’s not right to keep this from her. But yeah… it would completely stress her out. I guess we can wait until, we’re sure.”

Karina hugged me for a long time. She pulled back to look at me with damp eyes. “It would be better if you were an asshole, you know. Then I could get mad. I meet the only good guy in the entire city, and I give him away to Yunjin.”

“That’s nice of you to say, but let’s be real. I’m nothing much. I’m not rich, and only slightly handsome…”

Karina made a face.

“…so what’s the big deal? You’re gorgeous. You can have any guy you want.”

“Yeah, and you know how well that’s worked out for me. Yunjin told me everything you’ve done for her. I mean, she’s so happy now that she’s with you! It’s hard not to be jealous.” Karina leaned in and kissed me. “You transformed her, you know. Maybe you could transform me.”

“If you’re pregnant, you’ll be transformed all right.”

Karina pulled me close, her warm breasts pressing into me. “So, you fantasized about me, huh?”

“Uh, of course, Karina. You’re beautiful. Fun. A little wild. You’re completely sexy. You know that.”

“I really liked last night, you know. Being with you. And I don’t think I’ve ever cum so hard in my life. Or so many times.”

Karina guided my hand to her breast and kissed me. Soon we were running our hands over each other, and she pulled me down until I was lying on her on the couch. She spread her legs and I could feel her wet folds against my dick.

“Fuck me again,” she said, an eager, hopeful look in her eyes.

“Fuck me hard. Just don’t cum in me, okay?”

She was so brazen, so sexy. My heart was pounding at the thought of taking her again. Yunjin would be disappointed she wasn’t there to watch us, I thought. It got her so hot the previous night. Maybe I should call her so she can come over.

Karina reached down to guide my cock, but I was soft. She stroked it a few times and rubbed my cock along her wet slit, but there was no response. Even I couldn’t believe it. Karina, alone in my apartment, eager for me to fuck her and I wasn’t hard?

“Did we wear you out last night?” Karina asked with a wry smile

I rolled off her. “No. Just give me a minute.”

Karina scooted down and began to lick my cock, all around the head and occasionally sucking into her mouth, all while keeping an eye contact. She alternated between stroking my soft member, licking the head then caressing my balls.

That should have been more than enough. The sight of her working away, looking up with that mischievous expression, eager to get me hard should have caused a powerful reaction. Instead — nothing.

It occurred to me then, that maybe, Yunjin wouldn’t be okay with what we were doing right now. I stroked Karina’s head and pushed her off me.

“Karina, Let’s just stop this.”

Frustrated, she went back to working on my cock. She was skilled and knew all the tricks that would normally get any man hard in minutes, but it wasn’t working.

She stopped and rested her head on my thigh.

“Didn’t that feel good?”

“It felt wonderful, but I don’t know… this doesn’t seem right.”

Karina was quiet for a moment.

“Were you thinking of Yunjin just now?”

“Well, sure. Not just now, I always think of Yunjin.”

Karina considered that. “Always think of her, huh?”

We sat up.

“I wonder,” she said, idly reaching over to fondle me. “Did you ever consider you’re in love?”

“Huh? I like you, Karina, but I don’t know you well enough for that.”

“Oh, for f…” She whacked my head. “Guys are so clueless. Not with me! With Yunjin.”

“What? I mean, Yunjin’s wonderful, but it’s way too soon for anything like that… isn’t it?”

“Is it? I’ve seen how you two are together. Picture this: what if Yunjin was here right now, beside us like last night, naked, her hand guiding you into me, asking you to fuck me, and holding my hand while she watched us fuck each other like animals?”

More images from last night returned. It was so exciting having Yunjin watch, not just accepting me fucking her best friend, but actively encouraging us. I started getting hard.

Karina noticed. “Ah… someone likes having threesomes with his girlfriend. So Naughty! So if she was here, you’d be fine. I think even if you just had her permission to be with me, you’d be okay. But you can’t go behind her back, can you? Because it might hurt her. And you can’t hurt someone you love.”

I thought about that. It was all new. I didn’t know the first thing about it, Love.

“We were so good together last night. We had a real connection, didn’t we? I came here thinking that maybe you might like to be with me instead of Yunjin. Especially if… you know, you’ve knocked me up.”

“Uh…”

Karina sighed. “I guess I was only thinking about myself again. I should have seen it… it’s obvious now.” She forced a smile. ‘You’re right. We can’t be doing this. I’m sorry for tempting you.’ She took a breath and stood. “I’d better get home. And you, big guy, need to get back to Yunjin. And tell her you love her. Because I’m pretty sure you do.”

As I sat there and thought for a while, Karina dressed. She kissed my cheek and let herself out.

—

It was getting dark when I returned to Yunjin’s apartment.

“Why are you dressed?” I said when I walked in.

“Hope you don’t mind, but I invited Karina over to eat with us again. I think we all should talk together.”

“Oh, so you… talked to her? What did she say?”

“Not much. She wasn’t at yoga, but I got hold of her later. She says she’s fine with what we did… she was more worried about me. But something’s wrong. I could hear it.”

So Karina had not told Yunjin about our afternoon together, or about her possibly being pregnant. I decided that even if Karina didn’t want to, we had to tell Yunjin.

When Karina arrived, she said, “What’s this? You’re not running around naked?”

“We don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Karina grimaced. “Guys, it’s your place. You kids like prancing around in the buff, go ahead… it’s not like I didn’t see it all last night.”

“You sure?”

“Go ahead, guys. Besides, I’ve started to enjoy it.”

I looked at Yunjin and she shrugged, so I moved behind her. Kissing her neck, I pulled off her top, then kissed and nibbled her exposed shoulders. I held her breasts when I released her bra. Freeing her from her jeans, I stroked her tummy and squeezed her ass, then just wrapped my arms around her from behind, enjoying the feel of her. When it was her turn, Yunjin gave me a similar treatment undressing me.

When we were both naked, we glanced at Karina. She had a wistful expression.

“Oh wow, does he always undress you like that?” she said.

Yunjin stroked my cheek. “Most of the time. Sometimes I get dressed just so he can undress me again.”

“You… uh, is it all right if I get naked too?”

“If you’re okay with it, go ahead,” said Yunjin.

“Can… can he do it?”

I looked at Yunjin. She smirked and nodded.

I stepped behind Karina and began stripping her, kissing her shoulders and neck, slowly removing one thing at a time. When I crouched to lower her pants, I kissed her flat tummy that, for all we knew, held the beginnings of our child. The thought was frightening but exciting too.

When I stood up, Karina hugged me, resting her head on me. Her warm body and breasts caused me to stir.

We dimmed the lights and lit candles to make Karina more comfortable, and we sat, ate and chatted.

Karina seemed nervous, but I felt sick. I couldn’t stand it. Looking over at Karina I said “Yunjin, there might be a problem about last night…”

I told her about Karina’s visit that afternoon and the chance she might be pregnant. Yunjin listened in stony silence. When I finished, Yunjin fixed Karina with a cold stare.

“You let him fuck you without protection. Then went to see him. Behind my back. And tried to fuck him again?”

Karina looked stricken. “It wasn’t exactly like that… I wasn’t…” She trailed off, searching for a response.

The room seemed chilly as Yunjin glowered at her friend.

Karina said, “It was so good last night. There was a spark there… with him. I’m sure there was. I thought… look, I don’t know. When there’s magic with a guy, I go after him. You know me. I was excited. I didn’t even think about you. It was selfish, I know.”

Yunjin turned her attention to me. Her mouth was tight.

“And you? What the hell were you thinking?

“Yeah,” I said, “I guess I wasn’t. But we didn’t do anything.”

“You sure tried, said Yunjin. She paused, and then stood up, gathered my clothes and Karina’s into her arms in one big bundle, opened her apartment door and tossed it all into the hallway.

“Get out,” she said calmly.

“Yunjin, let’s talk about…”

“Both of you get the fuck out! NOW!”

Karina started crying and ran out to gather her clothes. Yunjin shoved me outside and slammed the door, bolting it behind us.

Karina knocked and tried the doorknob. “Yunjin! Come on!”

From behind the door, Yunjin yell, “Go away! Go fuck your new boyfriend.”

Karina and I scrambled to pull on our clothes. Luckily, none of Yunjin’s neighbors were around. I heard Yunjin crying and stomp to her bedroom.

We knocked and pleaded, but Yunjin ignored us.

Karina dried her eyes. “So, ‘new boyfriend’… your place or mine?”

We were devastated, we had hurt Yunjin. We needed a plan. My apartment was close, so we went there to think what to do. When I got in the door, I automatically stripped off my clothes, before it occurred to me to leave them on. Karina hesitated then stripped too. Oh well.

We sat beside each other, staring at the floor.

“I always fuck things up,” she sniffled. “What are we going to do?”

We talked, thinking how to apologize, how to undo the damage and regain Yunjin’s trust. I began to understand why threesomes in a serious relationship rarely worked.

Karina cried a little more so I held her. Her warm breasts against me felt wonderful as always.

“Can I stay with you tonight?”

I looked at her, incredulous. “You have got to be kidding.”

“Just to cuddle! That’s all. I don’t want to be alone after all this. Tomorrow we can go see Yunjin and patch things up.”

Sleeping with Karina in my own bed sounded wonderful. It also sounded like another betrayal. I doubted we could stop at cuddling. Before I could refuse, there was tapping at my door. Yunjin let herself in with the key I had given her weeks before.

“Returned to the scene of the crime, huh?” Yunjin said when she saw us together on the couch.

I went to her. “How’d you know we’d be here?”

“I know you. And I know Karina. Of course you’d go to your place to talk.”

“And that’s all we were doing, Yunjin.”

“I know. Is it okay if I join you?”

Yunjin stripped off her clothes and pulled us into a three-way hug.

“I’m sorry I blew up, guys,” she said. “That was childish.”

Karina’s eyes were damp. “I’m sorry too, I didn’t mean to…”

Yunjin shushed her and turned to me. “Can I borrow your bedroom? I need to yell at Karina in private for a while.”

“This involves me too, Yunjin.”

“I don’t blame you… as much. Just wait here, okay?”

Yunjin pulled Karina down the hall to my bedroom and closed the door. I figured it was best for them to have it out in private. They had been friends a long time, and I had confidence in Yunjin. Her parents had poisonous beliefs about sex, but to their credit, they also believed in forgiveness and practiced it. Yunjin had inherited that trait.

I listened to Yunjin yell at Karina from behind the bedroom door. That was followed by mutual sobs and then low murmurs. Finally, I heard a few giggles.

When all was quiet, I knocked on the door.

Yunjin stepped out. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “She’ll be okay.” Karina sat on the edge of the bed, huddled with arms crossed over her knees.

Yunjin and I returned to the living room.

“She’s okay?” I asked. “How are you, Yunjin?”

She shrugged and nodded. “Am I okay, she might have let my boyfriend impregnate her? No, I’m still a little pissed off about that. And you! What the hell were you thinking this afternoon?”

“Yeah, I feel terrible. At first, I was excited… like a continuation of last night. I thought how much you’d want to watch us, then it registered we shouldn’t have been doing anything without you. I’m sorry.”

Yunjin shook her head. “Guys… always thinking with their little head first.” She looked at me slyly and then said, “She told me you couldn’t get it up for her.”

“Oh, great,” I groaned.

“…because you were worried I’d be hurt.” She pecked my cheek. “Still, don’t ever do that again.”

I nodded and hugged her tight. Yunjin was a wonder. A weaker woman would have thrown me and Karina out and never talked to us again.

“So, are you and Karina okay now?”

“I’m not happy, but I can forgive her.”

“Seriously?”

She sighed. “Well, we can’t blame her for last night, can we? I mean, I urged you on her. Even put your dick inside her. I was so excited, I didn’t even ask if it was okay. She should have stopped us, but I remember the first time we went camping. We were just as weak then as she was last night.”

I forced a smile.

Yunjin took my hand. “Listen… Karina’s parent split up when she was little. It was ugly, and life for her was… chaotic… for a long time. Her mom moved a lot. Lots of money problems. I think that’s part of why she keeps running off with rich guys. She wants to be secure, not have to worry.”

“I had no idea.”

“So, she gets a little needy. But that’s fine. I like being there for her. And she’s always been there for me. Always. But right now, she’s terrified to wind up a single mother like her mom — struggling and alone.”

“She won’t be alone,” I said. “She has us.”

Yunjin’s eyes searched mine. “Us?”

“Well, of course. We’ll be there for her… we’ll deal with this together, right?”

“So, you… you wouldn’t want to just be with Karina?”

“What? Yunjin, I’m not going to leave you.”

Yunjin’s eyes became misty. “I’m happy to hear that.”

“I can’t leave you. You’re everything to me.” I paused. “Though Karina does have bigger boobs.”

Yunjin pushed me away, only to see my grin. “You’re a dick,” she smiled.

I pretended to think about it more. “Hmm… no, it could never work without you. I’d need you to change diapers. I wouldn’t be able to handle that at all.”

When Karina walked into the living room, Yunjin was hitting me hard with a cushion.

“No, that’s not how you do it. You need something hard. Let me get a frying pan or a baseball bat. We can take turns.” Karina said.

While fending off Yunjin’s blows, I saw Karina’s eyes were red but otherwise she looked okay. Better than okay, since she was still naked. If Karina would be hanging around us, I would have to curb my habit of gawking whenever I saw her without clothes.

“So,” said Karina, “when Yunjin’s done beating you, got any dessert? I could use a sugar rush right now. But if it’s chocolate fondue again, I’m leaving.”

All we had were cookies, the cheap crumbly ones you get in a bag from the store. The three of us sat beside each other on the couch and talked.

I offered to clean up crumbs that had fallen on Karina’s boobs, and she sweetly informed me where she’d stuff her cookie if I tried. Yunjin found that particularly funny.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this again.” Yunjin said.

“Doing what?”

“Sitting here naked, joking around.”

Karina nodded. “It’s nice. But feel free to leave if you have somewhere to go. Your boyfriend owes me a good fucking after leaving me all hot and bothered this afternoon.”

Yunjin’s face was the picture of shock.

“God, I’m kidding! After what we’ve been through, if he brings his dick near me again, I’ll cut it off.”

“Yeah?” I said, “Well, you keep that ravenous pussy of yours away from me or I’ll staple it shut.”

Once we stopped laughing, Karina said, “Oh! Yunjin, speaking of getting knocked up, I saw… you know, Mr. Nice Guy. He drove past me on my way to your place. I don’t think he saw me, though.”

“Mr. Nice Guy?” I asked.

“Oh, yeah!” said Yunjin, “Tell him about that guy!”

Karina sat back and said, “I went out with him a couple years ago. He was pretty rich. Great car, great condo, great hair, shitty taste in clothes. I should have known from the start that he was just another asshole looking for arm candy.”

“C’mon, tell him!” Yunjin said.

“He flew me to Paris,” said Karina.

“Really?” I said. “I guess he WAS rich.”

“Well, it wasn’t a private jet, but still. For a long weekend. Of course, I’d never been there, so I was like a little girl taking it all in. We stayed at a fancy hotel, walked around, saw the Louvre, Napoleon’s tomb, all that stuff. Then at night, we walked to the Eiffel tower. It was all lit up. Just incredible.”

“And…” prompted Yunjin.

“Oh, well in Paris people are making out everywhere. At the cafes, kissing on the street, everywhere. There’s a big park on the way to the Tower. While we were walking through it, couples were screwing on the park benches.”

“No way.”

“Yes! One couple, the girl was sitting in the guy’s lap, facing him. She was wearing a skirt, so they weren’t naked or anything, but it was obvious what was happening. We walked right by them on the path.”

“The City of Love, huh?” I said.

“Another couple was even more obvious. She was bent over the bench; he was behind. Even with just the streetlamps, it wasn’t subtle. Mr. Nice Guy told me in France it’s normal for everyone to have a lover. You’re married, and it’s just accepted you’ll also have someone on the side. Part of the culture I guess, don’t know if that’s really true.”

Beside me, Yunjin was squirming a little. Was this getting her turned on?

“I need to move to Paris,” I said. I expected a slap in the arm from Yunjin, but she looked lost in Karina’s story.

I could see Yunjin was really squirming and breathing hard, her chest flushed and breasts rising and falling. That gave me an idea. I whispered to Karina, then stood up and took some plates back to the kitchen.

When I came back, Karina had stood and moved behind the couch. We exchanged a look then she grabbed Yunjin’s wrists, pulling her arms up behind her head.

“Hey!” exclaimed Yunjin.

Karina held Yunjin’s arms tightly and twisted, forcing her to turn until she faced backwards on the couch towards Karina, knees on the seat. Yunjin’s lovely ass and wide hips looked delicious as I approached from behind.

I crouched over her and whispered, “Did that story turn you on? Would you like to be the one fucked across a park bench while people walk by?” I fondled one of her hanging breast and toyed with her pussy. Yunjin was soaked.

Yunjin hesitated then whispered, “Yes.”

I was hard by now. I said, “One day I’ll do that to you. But for now…”

I buried my dick in her with one slow stroke.

“Aaaahh,” Yunjin moaned, lifting her head and arching her back to receive my cock. Karina held her tightly to the couch and grinned at me.

I grasped Yunjin’s hips and started fucking her slowly. Each time I bottomed out, Yunjin grunted and pushed her ass back. She rested her head on the back of the couch and held on to her friend as I fuck her.

Soon I was fucking Yunjin steadily, losing myself in the sensations of her warm, tight pussy, the sight of her shapely ass and back, and the sound of her little gasps and grunts of pleasure. Each time I pressed forward it also caused Karina’s large breasts to sway a little as she eagerly watched us fuck.

Soon Yunjin so lost in lust that Karina released her arms. Yunjin held the back of the couch in languid submission, letting herself to be taken.

I was so immersed with Yunjin that I didn’t notice Karina moving to join her friend on the couch. She got on her knees beside Yunjin then waggled her ass, looking back at me with raised eyebrows.

I pulled myself from Yunjin. She raised her head as she felt me withdraw, awareness returning from her lust-induced stupor enough to realize her best friend was now beside her. I tentatively positioned myself behind Karina and looked at Yunjin expectantly.

She nodded. “Just be careful.”

Karina smiled then pushed her ass back, sinking me into her tight pussy halfway. I gripped her hips and drove the rest of the way in myself.

“No problem getting hard now, is there big guy?” she breathed, eyes lidded.

I took Karina firmly, holding her hips, and, despite the risk, tried to get as deep inside as possible. Yunjin kept her position, watching us, breathing with excitement. I loved how much it turned her on.

When I felt the urge to come rising, I pulled out and pushed back into Yunjin, fucking her again with determined, forceful strokes.

I alternated between Yunjin and Karina several times, careful to withdraw from Karina each time the need to come rose. In the end, I was fucking Karina with abandon as she huffed and grunted, pushing her ass back to match my strokes. When I reach under her to tantalize her clit with two fingers across her clit, she stiffened, and in a few moments gave a short gasp, and she came.

I stayed inside her as long as I dared, then pulled out to plunge balls-deep into Yunjin.

“Ah… God!” she exclaimed. I gave her several more strokes before unloading into her welcoming pussy.

I stayed mated to Yunjin, savoring the afterglow and the sight of the women presented before me. I leaned over to kiss Karina’s shoulder and cup one of her breast, and then did the same to Yunjin.

The girls turned around, and I sat between them, hugging them to my sides.

“I didn’t think we’d do this again,” said Yunjin, resting her head on my shoulder. “Is this going to be a regular thing?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “What if it is?”

Yunjin looked over at her friend. “Karina, are you okay?”

Karina was flushed and a little out of breath. “I have no complaints if you don’t.”

We talked a little longer until I yawned, causing the girls to yawn too. It was nearly midnight.

Yunjin stood and stretched, her body lovely in the candlelight. “I need to get home. Some people kept me up really late last night.”

Karina looked uncertain. I didn’t want her to leave, and a glance at Yunjin told me she didn’t either.

“Karina, can you stay with us tonight?” I said. “Just to sleep, I mean.”

Karina nodded, so Yunjin and I led her to the bedroom.

We put Karina in the middle of the bed this time and both of us cuddled against her sides. Karina pulled my hand to her boob, so I lightly squeezed and caressed it.

Karina kissed me and said, “Hold me?” I nodded, and she rolled to her side to face Yunjin. I spooned behind her and embraced her from behind, a hand on each breast. She looked back to caress my face then turned to Yunjin. The two of them talked in low whispers. I couldn’t make out what they were saying and was too tired to care. Soon I was dead asleep.

When I awoke it was dark and I was facing Yunjin with Karina was snoring softly behind me. Yunjin looked so lovely as she slept. I had to have her again. I ran my hand over her body and nuzzled her neck. Slowly she started to respond.

We made love, gentle and slow, embracing each other, kissing, neither of us needing to rush.

It was different this time. There was just enough light for me to see her and we gazed into each other’s eyes. Despite what Karina and I had done, Yunjin still wanted me and forgave us. It occurred to me that it wasn’t because she was some doormat who accepted anything, but because she had gained strength from her own struggles with lust and inhibition.

She whispered, “If Karina has a baby, it’ll need a friend.”

That got my attention. “What do you mean?”

“If she’s pregnant, will you knock me up too?”

“That’s not funny, Yunjin.”

She locked her legs around me as I eased in and out of her slowly.

“I’m not joking. I want to do this with you for real. No protection. As often as we can until I’m uh… carrying… uh… your child… uh… hey, be gentle. Make this… uh… last.”

I couldn’t help but push into her forcefully as she said those things. I tried to calm down. I whispered, “Where did this come from, Yunjin? Why would you want that?”

She kissed me. “Because I love you, silly. And you haven’t said it, but I’m pretty sure you love me.”

—

To our relief, Karina did not get pregnant. She immediately found birth control that worked for her and continued to join Yunjin and me, sharing our bed most weekends and sometimes through the week.

The scare was harrowing, but it brought the three of us closer. There were no more secrets, more trust, and more fun. The three of us started doing everything together: hang out, watch shows, cook, and travel. Except I refused to join the girl’s yoga class.

Like anything, nudity becomes routine once you’re used to it, but I still caught myself staring at the girls in admiration. I was no model, but Karina, always brash, liked to comment on my ass, chest or dick. Yunjin was more reserved, but I knew she enjoyed seeing me on display too.

Occasionally I would get an erection that refused to fade, so either Karina or Yunjin would volunteer to “take care of me.” Likewise, one of the girls would get horny for no reason and need my help. This always turned into an extended period in bed or on the living room floor.

We made up the rules as we went. Yunjin was happy to let Karina and I fuck anytime, but she preferred to be there to watch. Sometimes she needed me afterwards too. No matter how drained Karina left me, I somehow found renewed energy for my lovely Yunjin.

Karina kept up her wild lifestyle. Sometimes she met a new guy and disappeared, but she always gravitated back to us after a few weeks with bitter stories of the latest asshole and laments of “why can’t I just find a guy like you?”

One Sunday morning as the three of us lay in bed, Yunjin said, “We should all just move in together.”

Karina snorted. “Three people in a one-bedroom apartment? We’d go nuts.”

“We could find another place. None of us make much money, but together I think we could buy a house. Even without Karina’s income, we could afford something better.”

Karina and I both looked at her.

“A house?” I asked. “That’s a big step.”

“Is it?” said Yunjin. “You’re still hoping to find someone better than me and Karina? Run off with another girl… or three?”

The thought of being without Yunjin made me feel ill. I couldn’t imagine being without Karina, either. “You know I’m not going anywhere,” I said. “I love you, remember?”

She kissed me. “And I love you. And Karina. Though I’d love her a lot more if she’d stop running away every time she thinks she’s found prince charming.”

“What’s wrong with wanting a guy all to myself?” Karina said.

“Nothing. Though remember your goldfish? Full-time boyfriends take even more care and feeding… even after you’ve got them trained.” She patted my arm in mock condescension.

“Hey,” I said, “So I’m a goldfish to you now?”

“Mmm, no. More like a puppy.”

“Yeah… a pussy hound,” added Karina.

“Karina!” we both exclaimed. I hit her with a pillow.

“I have to admit, I’m never at my place anymore. We could just get a two bedroom somewhere.” Karina said.

“That was my first thought,” said Yunjin. “But have you seen the rent in the city lately? It’s crazy. I did the numbers and it would be cheaper to get a house. Nothing fancy. Maybe some place outside of town.”

“That’s an idea. An old farmhouse with some land. Privacy to walk around outside nude. Fuck on the lawn.” I said,

This time, Karina hit me with the pillow. “See? That’s all he thinks about.”

—

We found an old house, set back from the road in the trees. The privacy and large yards was perfect for three full-time nudists to play and bask in the sun when we wanted.

When we took possession, the three of us drove out together.

“Never thought we’d own an actual house,” Yunjin said. She held the keys with reverence.

When we got out of the car, we noticed the silence. No traffic, no sirens… just birds and the breeze through the surrounding woods.

“All right!” Karina exclaimed, “Let’s make ourselves at home!” She stripped off her clothes and threw them on the front yard. Yunjin did the same, and both ran for the back.

“Hey! Wait!” I shouted, but they had already rounded the corner. I heard screams. When I got there, Karina and Yunjin stood trying to cover themselves while the two electricians we had hired to install an outside outlet watched and grinned.

The girls fled.

“Sorry about that, guys. They’re just a little excited about finally moving in.” I said.

“Perfectly all right,” said the older electrician. “It’s your home. Say, if you can get them to come back and just… I dunno… stand there, maybe we can put a discount on your bill.”

—

Once the electricians had left, the three of us lay on the grass of the backyard, naked under the sun, enjoying the freedom of our own property.

“It’s so quiet,” said Yunjin.

“Too quiet,” said Karina, sharing a look with her friend.

Before I knew what was happening, Yunjin had scooted down and take my cock into her mouth while Karina kissed me then lowered her pussy onto my face. I wound up fucking one, then the other, and then the three of us lay back on the grass to recover, naked under the early summer sun.

The house needed work. We watched videos and borrowed books about painting, drywall, carpentry and maintaining a septic tank. Karina enjoyed painting, which I loathed. Yunjin found furniture and took charge organizing. None of us knew what we were doing, but as we learned we became even closer friends and lovers.

Though Karina had her own bedroom, we usually all slept together. Some nights Karina needed me all to herself, so I spent the night alone with her and we exhausted ourselves.

Karina still went into town to party, and ran off with some guy for months after we moved in. A week later she returned, more upset than usual. She never told us what happened, but she needed attention from Yunjin and me for weeks afterward.

The permanence of having our own house, and having two people who cared for her, seemed to calm Karina. She was happier, though still a little wild. She partied in town less and less and, best of all, never ran off again.

Soon the three of us realized that our odd three-way relationship was stable. We lived in near harmony, sharing the household duties and finances like we shared a bed each night.

I never saw jealousy between my two wonderful women, but life in the house wasn’t perfect. We had squabbles about money and petty things.

One evening Karina stood in front of me while I was watching TV and said, “underwear and socks are not home decor, you know. Can you take them to your room when you get home, instead of just leaving them everywhere?”

“Well, toenail clippings and pubic hair aren’t either,” I retorted, referring to Karina’s habit of grooming her feet and bush while she watched TV.

“Ass,” she said, playfully.

“Slut,”

Karina attacked me. We wound up wrestling. Karina was agile. Often our matches ended with her astride my neck, pinning me down and shoving her pussy in my face. Or, she would have her legs hooked around my waist, shoving her boobs into my mouth.

That time, however, I dominated and forced my hard cock between her legs.

“Don’t you dare,” she said, looking down at my dick.

When Yunjin heard the commotion, she strolled into the living room to watch. She loved watching Karina and me fuck almost as much as she loved getting fucked herself.

“Yunjin!” said Karina, struggling to throw me off, “Help!”

“Okay,” said Yunjin. She crouched and pinned Karina’s arms above her head.

“Help ME, not him… ohhhhh.”

Karina groaned as I pushed my cock into her love tunnel. But then she stopped struggling and spread her legs wide, letting me take her.

Yunjin held Karina’s arms, breathing with excitement and lovingly stroking Karina’s hair while I fucked her on our living room floor.

It was our favorite way of making up.

Yunjin started talking about kids again. If we were in the city and saw a baby, she would stop to make a fuss. Once we walked by a playground and she insisted on watching the antics of the toddlers until their caretakers started looking at with unease.

“You should do it, Yunjin,” said Karina one Saturday as we sunned ourselves naked in the yard. “Let him knock you up.”

“So should you,” said Yunjin.

Karina snorted. “I can barely take care of myself.”

“Wouldn’t you like a little baby? You’d be a great mom. I know you would.”

“Like hell. I’d drop the kid on his head the first day. And the whole childbirth thing? Doesn’t it squick you out? It’s gross! It’s okay for your cavernous cunt to get all stretched out, but our guy likes my tight pussy.”

Yunjin gasped. “God, you’re filthy. I’ve never heard any complaints from him. And I’m pretty sure he’s spent a lot more time in me than in you.” She stuck out her tongue.

“Ladies, once again, I’m right here, you know. If that’s a concern, Karina, I hear they can stitch you up afterward. Make you tighter than ever.”

Both girls goes “Ewww” and slapped me.

Yunjin kept talking about kids throughout the summer.

“I know,” she said one day, “We’ll go camping to the same place. You can fuck me just like before, only we’ll time it so I’m at peak fertility. Wouldn’t that be romantic?”

At first, I wasn’t sure that we were ready, but Yunjin convinced me. She stopped her birth control, and we began planning the trip.

A few days later, Karina asked me to sleep just with her, in her room. She was clingy that night, wrapping herself around me, urging me to go deep and fuck her hard.

“I’m going to lose you two.”

“How can you lose us? We’re family.” I said, surprised.

“You, Yunjin and a baby will be family. I’ll be a fifth wheel.”

“Karina, what’s wrong? I thought you were happy about our plans.”

“I am. I’m happy for Yunjin. I’m happy for you. But it doesn’t leave any place for me.”

“Your place is here. We love you. I love you. You know that. We’re together. All of us. The only thing that would change is how little sleep we’ll get with a baby around.”

Karina burrowed her head against me and said nothing.

Yunjin and I were installing a new kitchen faucet by ourselves when she said, “We never asked Karina to come camping with us, you know.”

I snorted. “We never asked because neither of us could imagine Karina camping. She’s a city girl.”

“We’re city people too, and we did it. You’ve gone backwoods camping several times.”

“Yeah, but Karina gets grumpy if she doesn’t have immediate access to a latte or high heels.”

“C’mon. She likes it out here. I think she’s feeling left out. We should at least ask.”

We did. To my surprise, Karina agreed. She even seemed excited. She started pestering us with questions: how long was the hike? How did you go to the bathroom…”

“Are you really sure you want to come?” I asked.

“I can be just as tough as Yunjin, you know. And if you’re determined to turn our poor sweet Yunjin into an unwed mother, she’ll need me to hold her hand while you do it. Or hold her down if she gets cold feet.”

—

The summer heat hit us as we emerged from the cool shade of the forest. I spread my arms and said, “Behold.”

Karina and Yunjin looked around at the camping area and out at the little lake. “This is so beautiful!” exclaimed Karina.

“And all just for us.” I added.

The girls set their backpacks on the ground and groaned with relief. “Oh, it’s good to get that off,” said Karina. “You guys call this fun?” She wiped sweat from her face and neck.

I set my pack down too. “Yeah, but it’s still a lot to carry.”

“Good thing you two were carrying most of it. I thought I’d die back there on the trail.”

“Time to cool off,” said Yunjin, pulling off her clothes. “Let’s go swim.”

We stripped and ran into the little lake.

“Oh my God,” said Karina as she swam on her back, her large breasts breaking the surface. “This is wonderful.”

“I can’t believe it’s been two years since we were here,” said Yunjin, also floating on her back. Her modest breasts barely poked from the water.

We floated and swam, confident no one would disturb us. Though the lake had two campsites, we had reserved the other one to make sure we would be alone on the long weekend.

When we had cooled down, we toweled each other off on the shore.

Karina squeezed the water from her long jet-black hair then ran her fingers through it to slick back over her head. Her upraised arms and arching back lifting her breasts to the sun was a breathtaking sight.

We got to work setting up camp.

“You guys have to tell me what to do,” said Karina, “and don’t make fun of me. You know I’ve never camped before.”

Yunjin and I instructed Karina in gathering fallen branches for firewood and how to fill the filter bag for clean water, then we all set up our new three-person tent.

Karina peered in the tent doorway, “Three-person tent, huh?

“We’re used to snuggling,” said Yunjin. “It’ll be fine.”

We all crawled inside to lay on the camping mats, the girls on either side of me.

“See?” I said. ‘It’s a palace. Lots of room, as long as we spoon.’ I rolled Yunjin onto her side and nestled behind her. “Mmm. After that hike I could use a nap.”

“Oh no you don’t,” she said, squirming away. “I know what kind of ‘nap’ you have in mind. We still have things to set up.”

Yunjin crawled out of the tent and pulled me with her. Karina reluctantly emerged as well.

“Okay, we’ll play later. Someone needs to string up a clothesline, and we need to get a line into a tree to hang our packs.” I said.

“Why?” asked Karina.

“Animals,” said Yunjin. “You hang the packs and anything else that smells in a tree away from the camp. So raccoons and bears don’t rip them open at night or follow the scent to our camp.”

Karina furrowed her brow. “You never said anything about bears.”

“There are only black bears around here. They’re no big deal.”

“I don’t care if they’re teddy bears. A bear is a bear.”

“Sort of. Black bears aren’t that aggressive, as long as cubs aren’t around, anyway. You can usually scare them away. And I have bear spray just in case.”

Karina wrapped her arms around herself. “You guys call this fun? Let’s just go home. We have trees there. And no bears.”

“And you always say you’re the adventurous one,” I teased.

“Yeah, for parties. Not for getting eaten by wildlife.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve camped here many times. Never seen anything but deer and raccoons.”

We gave Karina rope to string up as a clothesline while Yunjin and I found the tree we had used on our first camping trip and got it ready to hoist our packs later that evening.

When we returned to camp, Karina had hung up our one mutual towel on the line.

“Everything is all set.” I looked at Yunjin suggestively. “Now we can take that nap.”

“It’s too hot. Even hotter in the tent. Besides, I’m not horny.” Yunjin said

I sighed. “Karina?”

“What? No way. It’s too hot.”

“You’re not horny either?”

“Nope,” said Karina, putting her hands behind her and rocking back on her heels. She had a little smile.

“Well, I am,” I said, “and as alpha male, I demand to mate with my harem.”

The girls scoffed.

“Listen to him,” said Karina. “He thinks he’s in charge.”

I spread my arms and stepped towards Yunjin with exaggerated stalking movements. She laughed, backing away. “Keep away, ‘alpha male.’”

Trying not to laugh, I growled, “The first girl I catch, I fuck,” then lunged at Yunjin. She yelped and ran. I turned to Karina. With a big smile, she bolted in the other direction.

I chased the girls, laughing and screaming. Yunjin was the slowest, but she was agile. Each time I nearly caught her, she weaved and feinted away. After a few more times, she plunged into the water and swam to the middle.

“No fair!” I yelled. Yunjin was a powerful swimmer… there was no way I would catch her in the lake.

I turned back to Karina. I herded her to the edge of the campsite where thorny bushes and a large tree blocked her way. I spread my arms as I approached, ready to catch her if she bolted.

Karina stood with her back against the tree, looking left and right. “Stay away, you beast,” she laughed.

“You’re mine now,” I growled dramatically and edged closer.

By now, I was hard as steel. Karina’s eyes widened when she saw it.

“You think I’m your bitch to fuck whenever you feel like it?” she said.

I closed the gap and pinned her to the tree, holding her wrists with one hand. “Uh huh. And I feel like it, Now.”

Karina just grinned as I forced her legs apart and started rubbing my cock along her slit. She was already wet. I started sliding back and forth, becoming slick from her wetness.

“Beast,” she breathed, but she pushed back at me.

I released her wrists and put my arms under her ass, lifting her up against the tree and forcing her legs around me. I positioned my cock up her entrance and pushed. Karina inhaled sharply, eyes widening as I penetrated her. She held onto the tree behind her as I started fucking her against it. Soon she wrapped her legs and arms tight around me and pulled me into a deep kiss.

I rutted deep into her grasping tunnel with no thought of prolonging our mating or getting her off. I was consumed with a primal need to fuck this beautiful woman until I filled her.

It didn’t take long. A few final thrusts and I grunted, cumming hard into her. Karina clung and panted, her welcoming womb accepting my seed.

Eventually, my heart slowed and I lowered her legs. I kept myself inside her as we kissed and embraced. When I finally softened and slipped from her, I pulled Karina away from the tree and turned her around to brush bits of bark from her back.

Karina looked back. “Ass,” she said.

“You bring it out in me,” I grinned. “You okay?”

“I’ve just been fucked by my ‘alpha male’ How could I not be okay?” She forced a smile, then it trailed away into an odd, unreadable expression.

Yunjin was drying off when we got back to the tent.

“No fair going in the water,” I said. “You know you’re a better swimmer.”

“I wasn’t going to let you fuck ME against some tree. When we do it, I want it long and slow.”

“Suits me,” I said. “I think I’m ready for an actual nap now.”

The three of us crawled back into the tent. It was still hot, but we snoozed for an hour, entwined in a heap.

Daylight was fading when we woke. While Karina and I washed up in the lake, Yunjin started a fire. We ate dinner, warmed by the fire, watching the sun set and stars slowly emerge.

“Oh,” said Yunjin, “I forgot.” She fetched a small carton from her pack and handed it to Karina.

“Instant Chai Tea Latte Mix,” read Karina. “Gee, guys… you shouldn’t have.”

We laughed and Yunjin sat back down beside me, resting her head on my shoulder as she watched the fire and absently played with my dick. When I started getting hard, she glanced at me with a wry smile and lowered her head to take me in her mouth. After a few minutes, she stretched out by the fire and guided my head down between her legs. I licked her gently for a long while as she lay in the firelight. I concentrated my efforts and soon brought her to orgasm as she moaned and pushed my face into her.

I slid up Yunjin’s body, ready to enter her, but she pushed back on my chest.

“Wait.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked, searching her eyes.

“I… I don’t know about this.”

I rolled off and held her. “This is what we planned.”

“I know. But… all my life I was told to stay away from guys. Getting pregnant was the worst thing that could ever happen. And now…”

“…and now you’re all grown up. You’re a woman, not a girl. Your family isn’t here to brand you a slut. You decide what’s right.”

“My head knows that,” said Yunjin. “But inside…”

I was afraid this might happen. We had planned this trip for months, but it was a big step for Yunjin. The final step, in her mind, that would separate her from her past: getting pregnant.

We timed the trip so she would be unprotected and at her most fertile. She was more vulnerable to impregnation than the first time we had coupled at the same campsite.

Back then, I had taken Yunjin backwoods camping for the first time. She was determined to shed the demons of guilt and shame from her strict upbringing. Just being alone with a guy was a big step, let alone camping in the wilderness with one. But the beauty of the surroundings and the sense of freedom led to our first experiments with nudity, followed by us fucking without protection later on. It was stupid, but fortunately Yunjin did not get pregnant. That weekend, Yunjin started discovering her inner strength and started living free, acting as she judged best, no longer following the repressive edicts of her parents.

As we lay together by the fire, I let Yunjin wrestle with the last remnants of those feelings of guilt and shame.

Finally, she urged me on top of her.

“I’m through being scared.” She spread her legs. ‘Do it,’ she smiled. “Fuck me. Knock me up. Make love to me for real.”

Our coupling was tender, both understand it wasn’t just to satisfy our lust. There would be life-changing consequences for all of us. We hoped.

When I approached the point of no return, I looked into Yunjin’s eyes.

“Last chance,” I panted.

Yunjin’s eyes were bright. “Let go,” she whispered. “Make me yours forever.”

I pushed in deep and with two more strokes emptied all I had into my love’s fertile body. She groaned and arched her back as she felt me inseminate her. It signalled victory over her last taboo. She was finally free of her demons.

From the other side of the fire, Karina watched excited as I hopefully impregnated her best friend.

“Way to go, Yunjin,” she said.

As we lay together recovering, Yunjin said, “You were supposed to fuck me first this weekend, you know.”

“I know. But you ran into the lake. What’s am I supposed to do? And how can I deprive poor Karina?”

Yunjin just shook her head.

“How about this,” I said, “this weekend I fuck you the most.”

“I guess that’s okay, as long every time is like what we just did.”

The three of us sat around the fire, joking and chatting until the air grew chilly. Then we secured the campsite for the night and crawled into the tent.

Sometime that night, Karina woke me in her usual way: stroking me to hardness. The remains of the campfire cast flickering light through the tent wall. Yunjin was snoring gently, her back to us.

“I can’t sleep,” Karina whispered. “I keep thinking I hear bears.”

“Well, if one comes around, I’ll go out and beat him up. I have quite a reputation in these woods, you know.”

She chuckled. “Oh, yes. Please protect me, Mr. Man!”

“Seriously, they’re really more scared of us. Especially me.” I grinned.

“You ass.” She felt my hard dick. “Ready for more?”

“I’m always ready for you, Karina.” I gently rolled on top of her and poked my hardness between her legs. She must have been playing with herself… she was already wet.

Karina sighed happily as I slid into her. No matter how many times I fucked that wonderful woman I marveled at her wet tightness and how different she felt from Yunjin.

Karina breathed in excitement, tilting her hips, driving me deeper.

We said nothing more as we fucked in dim light. Then I remembered she hadn’t come last time, so I pulled out and started sliding down her body, eager to lick her to an orgasm or three.

“No,” she breathed, urging me back up. “Not now. Just fuck me.”

“I want to make you cum.”

“Later. Just fuck me. Come on… breed me like you bred Yunjin. Knock me up. Make me yours too.”

That was odd. Karina had never played that game before. She knew the idea excited me, but pregnancy horrified her. She never even teased about me impregnating her.

I slid up and she sighed as I pushed back into her. Karina lay there, passively letting me take her, then slowly she started to respond, pushing back and moaning. She was tight as always, but it felt like her pussy grasped my dick even more, and she was so warm.

It was so stimulating I reached my peak much sooner than usual I almost collapsed on her as my muscles weakened when I came. Karina just lay there, eyes wide and staring at the ceiling of the tent as I inseminated her for the second time that day.

After a few moments, Karina gently pushed me off. Instead of cuddling up against me, she stayed on her back with knees raised.

Yunjin, however, snuggled against my other side. She said nothing, just pecked my cheek and reached down to feel me, still slick from Karina. Just like that first time, Yunjin had been listening silently while I fucked her best friend, enjoying every minute.

After three nights camping with the two women, playing, swimming and making love, I was exhausted. But the trip was successful: two weeks later, Yunjin was pregnant. The three of us celebrated and started planning.

Four weeks after the trip, Karina rushed to the bathroom one morning and threw up.

Yunjin went to see what was wrong. She returned a long time later, pulling Karina behind her. She was holding a pregnancy test wand.

“So… you know how I always told Karina that our baby could use a friend?”

I sat up. “Oh, no.”

Yunjin nodded, eyes wide.

I got up to hug them. Karina avoided my eyes.

“How did this happen?” I said. “How far along are you?”

Yunjin said, “Apparently, the same as me.”

I tried to process that. “So… I’m the father?”

Karina gasped and pushed me. “Of course! Who else would I let knock me up?”

“Let me? So, on our camping trip… you weren’t protected? On purpose?”

Karina look to Yunjin, “Guys are really slow sometimes, aren’t they?”

“But why? I thought having a kid squicked you out.”

Karina buried her face against my chest with one arm around me and the other around Yunjin. “Because I don’t want to lose you.”

I met Yunjin’s eyes while stroking Karina’s hair. “That would never happen. I told you… we’re a family.”

“Well, we sure are now,” said Karina. She looked up. “Angry?”

“Shocked,” I said. “Amazed. But not angry. You know I wanted to have a baby with you too. But now how the hell am I going to deal with two pregnant women at the same time.”

“We’ll take it easy on you. It’s going to be a big change. For all of us.” Yunjin said

I started pulling Karina and Yunjin to the bed.

“What are you doing?”

“Seeing if I can give you both twins.”

“But that’s not how… never mind. Let’s try anyway.” Yunjin laughed and pulled Karina onto the bed with her.

#yunjin smut #karina smut #le sserafim smut #aespa smut #kpop smut #girl group smut #female idol smut #male reader

2K notes · View notes

jeonginsleftcheek · 5 months ago

Text

Hate your guts (pt 1)

~ this fic is my Christmas gift💙 i'm dividing this into two parts bcs tumblr is shit

pairing: rockstar!hyunjin x rockstar afab!reader

genre: enemies to lovers, fluff, smut

wc: 26.6k

synopsis: hwang hyunjin, your sworn enemy. the person who finds and pushes all your buttons, annoys you and makes you angry. the person you're trying to avoid so badly, only to end up practically sharing a bed with him on tour. let the fun begin!

warnings: lots of swearing, smoking and alcohol, mentions of blood and throwing up, mild violence, multiple sex scenes, unprotected sex, oral (f and m), fingering, handjob, semi-public sex, spanking, creampies, mix of degradation and praise

a/n: thank you @frehyun for helping me come up with a name for hyunjin's band💕 also a thank you to @jehhskz @moonchild9350 and @hyunebunx for giving me suggestions, listening to me yap and being supportive while i was writing this🥹🩷🩷🩷 title is inspired by inji, go listen to her music🫶🏻

a little ramble: feel free to skip this! but i just wanted to say that this was supposed to be done sooner cause i had other fics planned out to write but work got in the way. so i wrote this fic whenever and wherever i could; hiding in the bathroom at work, during my break, at the bus station, at 3am when i couldn't sleep etc... it's been a ride and i'm proud of how it turned out, hopefully y'all enjoy it too🥹🫶🏻

“...And do you look into the mirror to remind yourself you’re there? Or have somebody’s goodnight kisses got that covered? When I’m not being honest, I pretend that you were just some lover…”

It was a perfect but short moment.

The fresh breeze coming into the car where the window was opened just a little was enough to give you some air but still managed to hide most of your face from the outside world.

The music in your ears was loud, so loud that you were drowning in it, the warm and comforting voice, the melancholic guitar riff in the background, and the gentle sluggish drums putting it all together into a song that made your eyes water.

You tuned everything else out as this was the only moment of peace you were going to get today.

You needed every shred of sanity you could gather, and you were determined to hold onto it as much as you could.

Because today, you had an interview with him.

Hwang Hyunjin.

Oh, the name you know so well.

Even thinking about the way it sounds makes you feel angry.

It seemed as if his life mission was to find every single button of yours and push them repeatedly until you exploded like a ticking bomb.

Your mind wandered as you thought about him and how much his existence angered you, your stomach turning into knots.

Or maybe it was just pre-interview nerves.

No matter how many times you talked in front of the camera, it always made you feel anxious and jittery.

Being on stage was fun, there was no anxiety there as whenever you would step on it and see all the people cheering for you and singing along to the music you and your friends wrote, your heart felt full, your soul elated.

It was an exhilarating feeling you couldn’t even begin to explain to someone who’d never experienced it.

Every concern in your head, every ache in your soul, every tear behind your eyelids threatening to spill got erased when you gave yourself to the stage.

If you could, you would definitely try to avoid the interviews and just perform.

But your record company had other plans.

Being the only up and rising all girls rock band in the company meant that you needed promotion, and what better way to promote than to collab with the only boy rock band in the same company?

Hwang Hyunjin’s band.

Yes, you couldn’t wait for this day to be over.

“Y/n!” you were shaken out of your thoughts, as your manager pulled at your headphones.

“What?” you almost snapped at her, startled by her antics.

“You were staring off into space and muttering angrily about Hyunjin. Something like ‘poke his eyes out’ and ‘conceited dick’.” Ana giggled, covering her lips with her hand as you rolled your eyes, realizing that you’ve already arrived at the building for the interview.

“I’m sure you find all this amusing. But I am not amused at all. Last time I had an interview with that... bastard, everyone thought we were dating and started shipping us.” you recoil at the thought. “I would never date someone like him.”

“Oh y/n, lighten up! You know there will always be rumors of all kinds. The dating rumors are the least harmful ones, trust me. Just act like you’re besties with Hyunjin, for an hour tops.”

You take a deep breath in, then sigh.

“I am a professional. I will do this right.” you nod with a determined tone as Ana bumped her fist with yours.

“That’s the spirit!” your manager smacked your thigh happily as you yelped, making her laugh before she exited the car.

Since you were in the underground parking lot, there was no press around so you walked out of the car freely, going directly to the elevator that would take you to the reception.

Ana pressed the button when you walked in and just as the doors started closing, someone’s combat boot was pushed between the silver doors, stopping them and making them open again.

Your eyes traveled up from the boots, to the tight leather pants and the skimpy tank top revealing a tattoo sleeve, right to the face you hoped you won’t be seeing for at least another ten minutes.

Hyunjin had an obnoxious smirk dancing on his lips as he looked down at you, puffing his chest out like some peacock showing off his feathers and you already wanted to smack the shit out of him.

His manager, Anthony waved at the two of you, ushering him into the elevator.

“Good morning y/n, Ana.” Anthony greeted as Hyunjin kept smirking at you.

“It was good until now.” you crossed your arms over your chest.

Even the cologne Hyunjin was wearing made you want to puke your guts out so you stepped away from him.

A chuckle escaped his lips as he leaned on the wall casually, never taking his eyes off of you.

“Aw, you throwing a tantrum already baby?” he smirked at you and you started fuming.

Both of your managers rolled their eyes, Ana muttering ‘here we go again’ as she shook her head.

“I see you have a new piercing on your face. You needed another hole to let the air out of that empty head?” you said, trying to sound nonchalant and Hyunjin scoffed.

“I’m gonna ignore that comment and focus on the fact that you’re counting my piercings. Observing me, huh?” he looked at you smugly.

“Yeah, cause I have nothing better to do than-”

Ding!

“Alright, break it off kids, were here!” Anthony said, quickly pulling Hyunjin out of the elevator.

“See? I can’t stand him.” you groaned as Ana chuckled.

“You stood up to him pretty well.” Ana winked. “Let's go get some coffee, get you properly awake before the interview.” she gripped your shoulders, shaking you a little as you groaned in protest.

Thankfully, Hyunjin had disappeared somewhere and you were glad he wasn’t around to annoy you, as you made small talk with a few of the staff you knew there since you’ve already been interviewed for the same channel before.

“Ana, I’m gonna go get some air before we start.” you felt the nerves creeping up inside you.

“Okay, but you have to be back in five minutes.” she reminded you and you gave her a thumbs up, before practically sprinting down the hall to get to the little terrace hidden on the side.

Staff used it for smoke breaks, and you decided to use it to calm your anxiety down.

You flung the door open and stepped out onto the balcony, quickly taking a deep breath in while you looked down at the city before you.

“Needed to see me once more before the interview?” a voice rang out to the left of you.

Hyunjin’s voice.

Of course the bastard is here, you thought, your face becoming hot in annoyance.

“I had no idea you were here, asshole.” you turned to look at him.

He was leaning on the railing, flexing his muscles, a long vein protruding under the layer of the swirling colorful flowers inked into his skin, leading all the way to his long fingers with chipped nail polish and a cigarette pinched between his thumb and index finger.

He looked at you intently through his bangs that were haphazardly falling into his eyes, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, before his tongue poked out to play with the piercing adorning it.

“I thought you had more originality when it comes to nicknames, darling.” he said mockingly before taking another drag from his cigarette.

“Don’t call me that.” you turned around to leave but Hyunjin’s long arm quickly blocked your way, his palm splayed on the wall.

You looked up at him and stepped back, just as he puffed the smoke out your way.

“You leaving?” he looked smug again, intrusive thoughts of pushing him off the balcony appeared in your mind.

“Yes, this space is too small and your cologne is nauseating.” your face scrunches up.

“Aw, I’ll make sure to find another one you’d like.” Hyunjin smirks.

“Don’t bother.” you ducked under his arm and opened the door, walking away as fast as you could.

At least he helped in a way, you weren’t anxious anymore, just annoyed and waiting for this day to be over.

“Where is Hyunjin, we’re starting in a minute.” Anthony’s brows furrowed while you were ushered towards the room.

“Last I saw him, he was smoking on the balcony.” you shrugged as they sat you down.

The chair where Hyunjin would be sitting was too close for comfort and you wanted so badly to push it away, but you figured it was there because of the camera frame.

“We’re on in 30 seconds!” one of the staff yelled and you rolled your eyes.

Of course he was late, the self-centered bastard. You were sure he was enjoying this, everyone waiting on his highness to arrive, everyone panicking around him as he wears that disgusting smug smirk on his face.

“In 10…9…” the staff started counting down just as the door swung open and a breathless Hyunjin ran into the room, almost tripping over your crossed legs before he sat down on the chair next to you.

After he ran in, one of the girls working there ran in too, quickly taking her place with rosy cheeks and her lipgloss smeared.

You rolled your eyes and looked at him, the glitter from the girl’s lipgloss was visibly shining on his lips and chin.

“You have a little something.” you said and he smirked, wiping his chin off before leaning towards you.

“My lips were dry.” he whispered with a wink.

You were more than ready to get this over with, seething with anger at his unprofessional behavior that you didn’t even notice the camera began rolling.

“... today’s special guests are y/n of Venus Flytrap and Hyunjin of Lycoris Radiata! I hope y’all are as excited as I am, since it’s been so long. Y/n, let’s start with you. You have a new album coming out soon, can we get a little sneak peek of that?” the interviewer, Sarah, asked as you adjusted on your chair.

“This is our third album now, and this time Steph and Janey participated in the writing more than before, so the songs are really personal to all three of us.”

“Are we finally gonna hear about their love story?” Sarah wiggled her eyebrows.

“We may.” you smirked at her, not wanting to reveal too much.

“How about yours?” she added on, in the corner of your eye you saw Hyunjin leaning towards you as he stared at you, manspreading like always, his knee knocking into yours.

“Huh?”

“Your love story. Is there a special guy or girl in your life?” the interviewer asked, making you feel annoyed instantly.

You hated being asked questions like that, sometimes it felt like the music you were writing didn’t even matter, all people wanted to know was who you’re fucking.

“Not at the moment, no.” you forced a smile so you don’t seem rude.

“I thought I was special.” Hyunjin chimed in next to you, bumping his shoulder against yours, that shit eating grin you hate spreading on his face.

Before you could answer, Sarah butted in.

“Oh, is there something happening between you that we should know about?”

You could just hear the excitement in her voice, the hunger for drama dripping from her lips.

“Nothing is happening, we just like to joke around like that.” you quickly answered, hoping to deflect her to another question, or that she’d finally talk to Hyunjin and ask him about his new song, so you could take a few moments to breathe.

“So, you two are close?”

Oh no.

Here it goes again.

Last time this happened, your name got dragged on every social media platform.

People who were shipping the two of you got on your nerves, but that wasn’t the biggest problem.

No, it was the people who had sent you hate and death threats, telling you if they saw you next to Hyunjin again you’d be dead.

It took a toll on your mental health and scared you since you know people can easily find an address or stalk you somewhere and you wanted to avoid any rumors that would endanger your well-being.

“We're just coworkers.” to your surprise Hyunjin answered nonchalantly, saying exactly what you wanted to say so people would leave you alone.

Why was there a weird feeling in your chest then?

“Well, sometimes there’s passion at the workplace.” Sarah wasn’t giving it up and you were close to losing your temper and telling her to shove it already, ask some less invasive questions.

“No passion here, our relationship is strictly professional.” you said, but your skin burned where Hyunjin’s thigh pressed against yours.

In your mind you were cursing both him and Sarah, and even your manager for bringing you here.

Thankfully, she left it at that, continuing with questions about your upcoming tour and Hyunjin’s new song.

As soon as the interview finished and you were done shaking hands, Ana came to you, her hand on your shoulder as she squeezed.

In the corner of your eye, you saw Hyunjin slip out of the room.

“Good job.” she smiled as Anthony joined the two of you.

“I hope you’re hungry, y/n. This time it’s my treat, and there’s this restaurant…”

You tuned Anthony out, completely forgetting that after an interview like this, the tradition is to have dinner with Hyunjin and his manager.

“Can we skip dinner this time? I just wanna go home and lay down.”

“Nonsense, I hear your stomach growling from here. Come on, it’s free food you can’t say no.” Anthony made a goofy face, hoping to win you over.

“Fine, you had me at free food.” you sighed as Ana nodded with a smile.

“Good! Now where is our other rockstar?” he quickly looked around. “I swear, sometimes I feel like I’m a babysitter, not a manager.”

“I’ll go find him.” you offered, wanting to leave the building as soon as possible.

“Sure.” Ana nodded and you made your way down the hall.

Your footsteps echoed in the empty space, until you came closer to a corner where the sounds of hushed voices and giggles filled up your ears and made you roll your eyes.

“You know I can’t give you my number, baby. But if there is an empty room around here somewhere…” Hyunjin was talking to the girl from earlier, leaning over her body as she stared up at him like he was a god, her back against the wall.

You cleared your throat, crossing your arms on your chest.

Both of them looked up at you, Hyunjin giving you a smirk as he straightened up and the girl glared at you but you didn’t give a shit.

“We need to leave right now. Our managers are waiting for us.” you said simply as the girl whined.

“Shh, maybe some other time.” he shushed her, leaning towards her and your stomach flipped in disgust.

He didn’t kiss her, just taunted her before he leaned back and made his way towards you.

“Cockblocker.” he stuck his tongue out, the piercing adorning it catching the light for a moment.

“Do you even know her name?” you asked, keeping a fast pace and a good distance away from him.

“No. Does it matter?” he shrugged, his long legs quickly catching up to you in big strides.

“You’re despicable.” your face scrunched up in disgust as you neared the elevator where your managers were waiting and chatting.

“Throwing some big words around. You sure you know the meaning?” he smirked.

“That’s it.” you said angrily.

“What? You just basically told me I deserve to be hated just cause I wanted to have some fun.”

You looked at him, full on ready to slap him across his face but Ana stepped between the two of you.

“Fighting again? Can the two of you behave for just one evening?” Anthony frowned with a sigh as he called the elevator.

“I can behave.” Hyunjin clicked his tongue cheekily before playing with his lip ring again.

“Y/n?” Ana looked at you.

“As long as he doesn’t talk to me, I’ll be fine.” you turned away from Hyunjin, stepping into the elevator.

This is going to be one awkward dinner.

Choosing to disconnect in the van you put your earphones in, ignoring Hyunjin’s presence right next to you.

It’s like your managers wanted to have you two as close as possible, like they thought it’d make you hate each other less but at this moment there was nothing more you wanted than to get away from him.

Or maybe your managers wanted to be closer to each other, you smirked to yourself as Ana twirled her hair around her finger, giggling at something Anthony said.

You leaned back as the music flooded your ears, your figure slightly turned towards the window as you watched the street lights pass you by, totally unaware of a pair of eyes that were glued to you.

Hyunjin observed you in detail, how shiny your hair was as it cascaded down your back and shoulders, how your brows were slightly creased and your lips pouty as you listened to your music, the steady rise and fall of your chest, the way your fingers played with the hem of your shirt as you pulled on it, how pretty the rings adorning your fingers were, how the necklace you always wore laid gently on your collarbone.

No little detail was skipped as he drinked it all in, thinking you wouldn’t notice.

But after some time as it got even darker outside, you caught Hyunjin’s reflection in the window as he stared at you with a look on his face that you’ve never seen before.

Your stomach suddenly swirled as the two of you made eye contact on the glass, Hyunjin’s plump lips falling open before he sat up and looked away, acting like nothing happened.

The rest of the ride was uneventful and you were tired of this day, having to look at Hyunjin was more exhausting to you than being on stage.

You couldn’t wait to get into your bed and disappear.

As you walked into the restaurant, you were led to a table and you could see a few people whispering and pointing at you but usually they didn’t bother you much.

However, this time was different.

As you scanned the menu, a girl timidly approached your table and you looked up at her as she stood next to Hyunjin.

“I’m - I’m sorry to bother you but I’m a really big fan and I was wondering if you’d take a picture with me?” she asked Hyunjin who immediately smirked at her.

“No pictures allowed. But you can get his signature.” Anthony chimed in.

“And who the fuck are you?” the girl changed her demeanor right away, making Hyunjin chuckle.

“Easy there, sweetheart, that’s my boss.” he wiggled his eyebrows at the girl. “Come on I’ll give you a sign and you can write me your number, maybe I’ll call you, hm?” Hyunjin winked at her and you just about lost your appetite completely.

“Oh, sure, I’d love that!” she let out a nasally laugh as he signed a napkin with a pen she somehow produced, giving it back to her as she leaned over to write her number down, making sure her tits were right in his face before she skipped back to her friends.

“Can there be at least one minute when you’re not trying to fuck something that walks?” you looked at him annoyingly and he laughed.

“Thought you weren’t talking to me.” he smirked.

“Ugh, you’re so annoying!” you were ready to smack him with the menu in your hand but Ana caught your wrist.

“I bet you love that about me.” he kept smirking.

“Love is nothing near what I feel about you.” you said, your teeth gritted.

“There’s a fine line between love and hate, you know.” Hyunjin smirked, leaning into your personal space.

“Anyways, guys. What are you ordering? Their steak is really good.” Anthony gave an awkward smile as he looked around the table.

“I want the tomato pasta.” Hyunjin leaned back, making you cackle.

“Isn’t that the kids menu? Makes sense for you somehow.”

“I’m saving room for dessert.” he winked at you, his tongue running over his lip tentatively, the piercing on it catching the light again.

“Ew.” you jolted in disgust as he laughed loudly, obviously finding enjoyment in ticking you off.

The dinner part of the outing was uneventful as everyone ate and made small talk but you didn’t miss how Hyunjin crumpled up the napkin with the fan’s number and threw it aside on the table, not caring about it.

What an asshole.

“Let’s make a little toast to this evening and the upcoming albums and tour.” Ana proposed as she lifted her glass up.

“To us.” Hyunjin smirked as he looked at you.

“To rock’n’roll!” you added as the four of you clinked your glasses together before taking a big swig of your drinks.

Hyunjin didn’t look at you on the drive home.

Rehearsal was supposed to start at 9am sharp, but you were there bright and early, tuning your guitar.

Being an early bird, you loved the few moments of peace you could have to yourself, just you and your music.

Your hand glided easily on the guitar’s neck, taking shapes familiar to your hands, it was muscle memory by now, your fingers picking on the strings and creating the melody you played countless times before.

You let your voice ring out in the space freely as you sang a song dear to your heart, one you wrote when you were younger.

You’d always start warming up by singing it to yourself, never having the need to actually put it out into the world.

You got into it, your eyes closed as you sang with a small smile on your face, the entire world around you disappearing shortly.

In the distance, you heard footsteps and voices belonging to your bandmates and just as you opened your eyes, you looked through the glass on the door, a shadow slithered across the wall outside, disappearing around the corner.

You squinted your eyes and stood up, putting your guitar aside and coming closer to the door.

Just as you were about to reach towards the doorknob, the voices got louder.

“Are we seriously doing this right now?” Janey asked, the tone of her voice angry.

“I’m telling you, it was nothing! I don’t know who she is and why she’s texting me!” Steph defended herself as Janey scoffed.

“I’m sick of your excuses. I’m gonna give you one last chance to make it up to me and be truthful, but after that I’m done.” you stepped back as Janey came into view, opening the door angrily.

“Oh, y/n.” she widened her eyes slightly. “Good morning.” she added, scurrying past you to take her place behind the drum kit.

Steph walked in with a scowl on her face, muttering a ‘morning’ before going straight to her bass guitar.

It wasn’t the first time they fought or even broke up.

There were many times you had to be the mediator between them, trying to get them to communicate and even though it was frustrating, you didn’t want them to give up on their relationship easily and you couldn’t really take sides since they were both your friends.

“Shall we?” you asked and they nodded.

It took some warming up as always but soon you got into the groove, rehearsing for a small performance that was happening tonight.

You were excited because during the performance you planned to reveal your new song and see how people like it in person.

The only thorn in your eye was the fact that Hyunjin’s band will be there too, performing right after yours.

You were dreading to see him again, since that interview last week you had managed to avoid him skilfully, but you couldn’t hide forever.

And even though your rehearsal went somewhat smoothly, there was tension in the air and you didn’t like that feeling.

It felt like a storm was coming and you weren’t sure if you’re ready to take it on.

Evening came around quickly, everyone was already gathered backstage and you were dressed and ready, having rehearsed once more on the stage, tuning your guitars and getting ready for the most fun part.

You peered from the back, seeing all the people gathering made your heart swell, a smile spreading on your face automatically.

“Quite a turn out, huh?”

Your eye literally twitched when you heard Hyunjin’s voice behind you, too close for comfort as his figure loomed over you and you felt the warmth of his body on your back.

You turned your head slightly as he peered down at you with that annoying smirk you absolutely hate.

“Of course.” you said, squeezing your body between him and the curtain, ignoring him calling after you as you walked away as fast as you could.

You’re not gonna let him ruin tonight for you.

It was time to go on stage anyways.

You and your girls did a little cheer as tradition before the performance, Ana coming up to hug you and wish you good luck.

“Break a leg.” Hyunjin appeared out of nowhere and you only rolled your eyes before whipping around and almost smacking him with your hair as you made your way towards the stage.

As soon as you walked out, loud screams filled up your ears and everything negative was forgotten and locked away in a drawer in the back of your mind.

“Are you ready to rock tonight?!” you screamed out into the mic as the three of you took your positions.

Hyunjin watched you from the side with an unreadable look on his face, but you weren’t even aware of it and you didn’t care.

All you cared about was this moment.

The moment where you get to share your love for music with thousands of people.

It was exhilarating, watching the mass of bodies sway like one, hearing all the people singing the lyrics you wrote in unison.

Nothing could compare to this and every time you stood under that light, you knew you were born for this.

Giddy from everything, you skipped backstage once you finished playing the last song; which happened to be the new one and people more than loved it judging by their excited screams.

“That was amazing!” Ana met you halfway, giving high fives to all three of you.

You were still trying to catch your breath as you giggled, when Hyunjin appeared next to you again.

“Aren’t you gonna wish me good luck?” he smirked at you, shamelessly giving you the elevator eyes.

“Good luck guys!” Janey yelled at all four members with a smile and a thumbs up but Hyunjin shook his head.

“I want her to say it or I’m not going out on stage.” he crossed his arms on his chest, pouting and tapping his foot like a child about to throw a tantrum.

“Come on, Hyun, we need to get out there!” Aiden, the band’s bassist called out.

“Not moving until y/n wishes me good luck.” he quickly shook his head, his fluffy hair shaking with it and you thought how he resembled a dog; in more ways than one.

“Fine you spoiled brat. Good luck.” you said sarcastically and he scoffed.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he smirked, leaning into your personal space again.

“Get on the stage, Hyunjin.” you sighed and he chuckled in delight.

“Watch me closely.” he winked before running off.

“I can just cut the tension in the air with a knife.” Steph smirked at you, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Oh, fuck off!” you said, smacking the back of her head as she cackled.

You did end up watching Hyunjin’s band perform after refreshing yourself, but pretty soon you’ve come to regret that decision.

He was wild while performing, stripping out of his jacket as he screamed into the mic, sweating under the bright lights pointed directly at him making him look like an insane glazed donut as he strutted around the stage acting all smug even though he tripped over his dumb long legs multiple times.

He’d lean over towards his little groupies, holding their hand or caressing their faces, blowing them kisses and whatnot, all of that behavior making your gut churn in disgust.

The last straw was when he laid down on his back and started humping the air while moaning into the mic.

Even though the crowd screamed louder than before and the horny fans almost started hyperventilating, you felt second hand embarrassment at witnessing this.

Hyunjin continued moaning before he threw his head back, his eyes locking with yours.

A shiver ran down your spine as he smirked at you, all sweaty, his hair sticking to his forehead, his piercings shining in the light, the veins on his neck visible and his cheeks red.

A warmness spread in your navel as he winked, licking at his lip slowly, taunting you before he moaned extra loudly, the pornographic sound echoing in your ears.

You frowned suddenly at your heart beating fast and your legs pressing together.

What the fuck is wrong with me?, you thought, quickly shaking your head as he finally looked away from you and stood up.

Of course, he got showered by multiple bras on stage, you think you even caught a glimpse of someone throwing their panties and you couldn’t watch anymore.

It was truly disgusting.

You quickly shoved past some staff members watching and gasping at whatever Hyunjin was doing now.

Pushing past everyone, you made your way outside to get some fresh air in the hidden area behind backstage, where staff and musicians usually smoked or chilled after a performance.

You greeted some of the staff before finding a spot where you could be alone.

You were about to relax when you heard kissing sounds and as you turned to look around the corner you saw Steph kissing some random girl.

You couldn’t contain the gasp that flew out of your mouth, making them jolt away from each other.

Steph’s eyes widened when she saw you and you quickly spun around, noticing Janey had just walked outside too and started looking around.

“Y/n, wait!” Steph yelled behind you. “It’s not what you think! Please, don’t tell Janey!” she looked at you desperately but you hated cheaters more than anything, seeing her betrayal with your own eyes broke any sort of connection you had with her.

“Isn’t it? Your tongue was down some girl’s throat. Now, what do you call that?” you scoffed.

“What?” Janey appeared next to you, just as the girl who Steph was kissing before stood behind her.

“It’s not like that, I-”

You could see Janey’s eyes filling up with tears.

“That’s it, I’m done. With you and with the band. With everything.” you gasped when she said that, your eyes wide.

“Janey, don’t be like that, it didn’t mean anything to me-” Steph started.

“Liar, you told me you’d leave her for me.” the girl behind Steph chimed in.

“Oh, so this has been going on for some time?” Janey looked between Steph and the girl.

“Let’s talk about this inside.” you tried to lead them in as people were whispering and looking at the four of you.

“I have nothing else to say. I’m sorry, y/n. I can’t be a part of this band anymore when all it’s gonna do is remind me of this cheating whore.” Janey spat before turning around and leaving.

“Okay, I deserve that but like I’m sorry that-”

“Save it, Steph. I can’t believe you did this. You put your desires over the well-being of our band. You do understand that your actions not only affect Janey, but also me, Ana and the rest of the record company?” you asked her, your blood boiling with anger.

“I- I’m sorry, let me make it right. I’ll talk to Janey and she’ll forgive me once she understands-”

“You think I want you to be part of the band after this? That’s rich.” you turned around too, in hopes of finding Janey.

“Y/n, you can’t throw me out of the band!” Steph yelled behind you.

“I just did.” you said coldly before opening the door and rushing into the backstage room.

“Is Janey here?” you asked Ana and before she could answer, someone bumped into you rather strongly, making you stumble backwards a little.

You turned around angrily, noticing a very sweaty and breathless Hyunjin staring at you with a smile, his tongue lolling out of his lips as he played with his piercing.

“So, did you like my performance?” he winked at you. “Did it get you excited?” the famous shit eating grin spread on his face as he leaned in closer to you, a few droplets of sweat dripping from his hair.

“I don’t have time for your games, Hyunjin. Please leave me alone.” you said annoyingly, noticing he had a bra hooked around his hand.

“What’s going on?” Ana asked, looking at you confusedly.

You were shaken up, the anger you felt manifesting into tears and you cursed yourself for being so emotional and quick to cry.

“Woah, you’re crying!” Hyunjin stepped even closer to you but you’ve had enough of him.

“Get away from me, asshole!” you channeled all your anger his way as you pressed your hands on his chest, pushing him away.

Hyunjin stumbled with a gasp, a shocked look on his face.

“What the hell is happening here?” Anthony quickly came to Hyunjin’s side as his bandmates watched everything unfold.

“Ana, can we talk in private?” you glared once more at Hyunjin and she quickly nodded, hooking her arm with yours and taking you away from the scene.

Hyunjin watched your figure disappear out of view with a deep frown on his face.

It’s been a dreadful week.

You’ve tried talking to Janey multiple times, begging her to come back, promising to her that you wouldn’t let Steph come anywhere near her.

Sadly, Janey was insistent on not wanting to continue with the band since lots of the songs were written by her and her now ex girlfriend who betrayed her in such an ugly way.

You talked to Ana almost every day on the phone but you weren’t up for any visits, choosing instead to wallow in your sadness.

Your band fell apart, your friends were no longer together, your album couldn’t be published and people were speculating, spreading rumors, you were getting numerous curious comments asking what happened to Venus Flytrap.

You had no idea what to do at that moment.

You just needed some time to yourself to figure out what your next step should be.

You were lounging in your bed when your phone buzzed for the hundredth time.

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed it and saw that you had a text message from an unknown number.

???: hey there pretty girl! don’t be so sad! there are worse things than your band falling apart.

you: what, like death? and who is this?

???: your favorite person in the whole world<3

you: hyunjin??

???: aw i knew i was your favorite!

You started seething immediately as you sat up, your heart beating fast instantly as you worked yourself up into annoyance.

You quickly put his contact under ‘asshole’.

you: no, i knew that a conceited answer like that can only come from an asshole like you.

you: now, what do you want?

asshole: did you save my contact as asshole? or dickhead? which one is it?

you: wouldn’t you like to know. seriously what the hell do you want. i’ll block you if you don’t get on with it

asshole: just wanted to see if you maybe want to talk to someone

you: if i did, i wouldn’t choose you. have a nice day away from me hyunjin

Hyunjin didn’t answer your last text, instead he left you on read and you tossed your phone across your bed, now feeling even more infuriated than before.

You squinted your eyes, grabbing your phone again and texting Ana.

you: did you give my number to hyunjin??

Ana: i’m sorry! he wouldn’t stop bugging me about it! pls don’t be mad

Just great.

Why is he insisting on annoying you even when you feel down in the dumps, you thought, he always has to come in and make you feel even more mad.

You were hoping that with your last text he’d finally leave you alone.

You also hoped you wouldn’t be seeing him any time soon.

But boy, you couldn’t be more wrong.

“What?!” you yelled so loudly that it echoed off of the office walls.

“Y/n, please we don’t know any other solution. Lycoris Radiata is going to tour in 4 days and you’re the only person who knows their songs by heart. You can also kick ass with drums. And well, you’re kinda free now.” Anthony grimaced.

“You can’t do this to me. I can’t spend so much time with Hwang Hyunjin!” you whined like a child, kicking your legs under the table as Ana gave you an apologetic look.

“Gossiping about me?” Hyunjin strolled in, with that annoying smirk, his hair in a little ponytail, showing more of his ear piercings and his sharp jawline.

He took off his leather jacket, throwing it haphazardly on the chair before he plopped down into it.

He spun around in the chair to face you as you looked at him with a scowl on your face.

Brendon, his guitarist and Aiden joined the meeting right after that.

“So, ready to be my new drummer?” Hyunjin wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“Not a chance in hell.”

“Y/n, please, we have no other choice! Phil had to leave so suddenly due to his sickness. We couldn’t be prepared for something like that. We can’t afford to postpone the tour now.” Brendon pleaded as Aiden nodded next to him.

You leaned back into the chair, pursing your lips as you gave it a thought.

Of course they’d choose you.

You knew their songs by heart since you shared so many tours together but you had your own bus and mostly ran into Hyunjin either backstage or at an afterparty but if you would become a part of his band you’d spend most of your time with him.

But this could be good for you to give yourself time to decide what you wanna do next while touring with Lycoris Radiata.

And since you were a multi instrumentalist, playing the drums wouldn’t be a problem for you.

You smirked suddenly before tilting your head at Hyunjin.

“Fine. I will tour with you under one condition.” you said.

“Anything!” Anthony piped in but you kept staring at Hyunjin.

“I want you to beg.” your smirk deepened and Hyunjin’s eyes widened slightly, his fingers twitching against his thighs.

“What?” he blinked repeatedly and you chuckled under your breath.

“Beg me to join your band or I’m not doing it.”

Hyunjin’s lips opened and closed a few times before he frowned.

“I don’t beg. I demand.” he smirked, taunting you.

“Well, in case you haven’t noticed, you’re in no position to have demands. However, I am. So if I want you to beg, Hyunjin, you’re gonna beg.” you sat up straight as he looked at you in pure shock.

“My, my darling. I didn’t know you were this commanding. I kinda dig that.” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Any day now.” you were ready to stand up and leave.

The room was eerily silent and Brendon opened his lips to speak up but Anthony grabbed his wrist and quickly shook his head.

You could see the gears turning in Hyunjin’s head as he stared at you, and slowly but surely his cheeks became red as he closed his eyes in frustration.

“Pretty please, join my band and come on tour with us?” he said, rather quickly and you tsked.

“Not convincing enough.” you enjoyed having the upper hand, the roles reversed as you pushed Hyunjin’s buttons.

“What do you want me to do?! Kneel at your feet?” he whined.

“Maybe.” you shrugged.

“Unbelievable! I’m the one doing you a favor anyways.” Hyunjin said, clearly annoyed and you were reveling in it.

You wanted him to get the taste of his own medicine.

“Is that so?” you raised your eyebrow as he breathed hard.

“Yes, your band is as good as dead right now, just like your career.” he said with a smug smirk, making everyone gasp.

“Hyunjin!” Aiden scolded him and you stood up, feeling your eyes water as you lifted your hand, your palm colliding with Hyunjin’s cheek.

The force of your slap turned his head right and he grabbed at his cheek immediately, his eyes wide, his face becoming red quickly.

“Fuck you!” you said angrily before turning around and leaving the room as tears started sliding down your cheeks.

“Now look at what you did!” Anthony was mad and Hyunjin shrugged with a frown, realizing quickly that maybe he did cross a line.

“How could you say something like that to y/n?” Brendon asked, and Hyunjin looked at them, feeling dejected suddenly as he rubbed at his cheek.

There was strength in your hands, that he was sure of.

“I fucked up, okay! I didn’t mean to say that.” he shook his head. “I will make this right.” Hyunjin added, standing up.

“Dude, I think you’re the last person y/n wants to see right now.” Aiden said.

“But I have to apologize to her.” Hyunjin chewed on his lip, playing with his piercing as a nervous habit.

“I’ll go with you then.” Aiden nodded, standing up as well.

“Fine.” Hyunjin sighed.

You sat in the swinging chair on one of the many balconies of the building, letting your tears slip down your cheeks as the wind picked up, making you shiver.

Hyunjin and Aiden found you pretty quickly and before Aiden could follow him to the balcony, Hyunjin smacked his hand on Aiden’s chest.

“Please, just wait here.”

“Fine, but if you provoke her again, I’m coming in.” Aiden sighed, shaking his head.

The door of the balcony opened and in the corner of your eye you saw Hyunjin’s combat boots and his leather pants.

“Go away.” you said quietly, sniffling and turning away from him.

Hyunjin stood frozen for a moment, holding his jacket in his hand and you took that time to quickly wipe away your tears.

You didn’t want to look weak in front of your enemy.

Footsteps approached and suddenly you felt a weight on your shoulders and back.

You looked down, realizing that Hyunjin had put his jacket around you and it smelled like cigarettes mixed with cologne he always wears and something distinctly him.

You took a deep breath and for some reason, calmness settled all over your body.

“I’m really sorry for what I said back there. It was way out of line.”

You didn’t say anything, still refusing to look at him.

“And I’m sorry about your band. I know that must be hard to go through. I feel bad that my drummer had to leave, I don’t know how I’d feel if-”

“Are you done?” you turned to look at him and his lips pressed together.

“I don’t care how you feel, Hyunjin. Just like you didn’t care about hurting me moments ago.” you stood up, ready to throw his jacket away.

“Well, I apologized!” he threw his hands up, rolling his eyes. “Though, I’m glad I have that effect on you, I didn’t know you cared so much about what I think or say.” he smirked suddenly.

You were tempted to slap his other cheek at that moment, and Aiden must’ve sensed it so he walked out to the balcony.

“Are we okay?” he asked, gulping.

“Not until he apologizes properly.” you crossed your arms with a smirk, and he knew exactly what you meant.

“Ugh! This is the first and last time I get on my knees for you.” Hyunjin said annoyingly as he kneeled down and you chuckled in delight.

“I’m sorry for being an asshole and if you could find it in your heart to forgive me, I’d be honored for you to join my band.” he batted his eyelashes at you.

“Mm…” you pursed your lips, acting like you were contemplating it as he rolled his eyes again.

“Fine. I accept.” you shrugged and Hyunjin stood up quickly with a smile.

“Welcome to the band, sweetheart!” he smirked, opening his arms for a hug and you quickly dodged under his arm and slithered away.

“You’re welcome.” you smirked back, grabbing his jacket and throwing it at him.

He caught it just as you walked back into the hallway, grinning to himself as you walked away.

“She wants me so bad.” Hyunjin said as Aiden’s eyebrows lifted comically.

“I think she wants to kill you.” he said and Hyunjin chuckled, smacking Aiden’s shoulder and grabbing him.

“I know what chicks like, okay?”

“You also know that y/n isn’t one of your little groupies?” Aiden sighed.

“I know, don’t worry. She’s special.” Hyunjin smiled, hugging his jacket to his chest, getting a whiff of your perfume that stayed on it.

Aiden shook his head with a chuckle.

This is gonna be one hell of a tour.

The party was in full swing.

That morning you had packed for the tour, your stomach swirling with nerves so much that you thought you’d throw up.

You were actually going on tour with Lycoris Radiata, for at least six months.

A lot can happen in that amount of time and while you were nervous to spend so much time with the infuriating and annoying asshole aka Hwang Hyunjin, you were also excited for the new experience and the places you’ll get to see.

Of course, you couldn’t leave without attending a ‘have an amazing tour’ party that was mostly exclusive only for staff and a few other people.

You were on your second glass of beer as you sat at the bar, the cold bitter liquid not calming you down as it should.

Hyunjin was having a jolly old time, entertaining some girls of course and if you had rolled your eyes any harder, they’d get stuck in the back of your head.

“Don’t take that to heart.” Aiden suddenly appeared next to you.

“What?” you chuckled awkwardly, shaking away your thoughts.

“Hyunjin flirting like that. He’s a lot of talk, more than anything else.”

“Why would I care if he flirts with some random girls?” you frowned. “It’s none of my business.”

“Right.” Aiden pursed his lips. “Well, I’m gonna go find Anthony.”

“Sure.” you shrugged, your eyes flying back to Hyunjin and the girls who were salivating all over him.

He was showing them his biceps and they were touching him like they’ve never seen a human arm in their life.

You scoffed, shaking your head when a voice behind you startled you.

“Now, why is a pretty lady such as yourself sitting all alone?”

You turned around with your eyebrow lifted, coming face to face with a stranger.

“Because it’s her choice.” you answered.

“Oh, feisty and pretty? That’s a fun combo.” the guy smirked, his arm leaning on your chair, almost hugging your waist as he got closer to you.

Your nose scrunched up, he smelled of alcohol and you really wanted him to leave you alone.

“I’m pretty boring, trust me.” you said.

“Oh, I don’t believe that. In fact, I think if you were to let me take you home tonight, you and I could have so much fun.” he smirked and you were pretty sure you barfed in your mouth a little.

“No, thank you.” you said sarcastically.

He chuckled, placing his arms around you.

You were completely unaware of Hyunjin who was keeping an eye on you and the suspicious guy.

As soon as the man placed his hands on you, Hyunjin pushed the girl he was talking to aside, his heavy combat boots taking him right to you and the disturbance in your personal space.

“I don’t really take no for an answer.” he said and your heart sank momentarily.

“Back off man!” you tried to push him away but he wasn’t budging.

Suddenly the guy was ripped away from you with such force that it pulled you to your feet.

You grabbed at the bar to steady yourself and gasped just in time to see Hyunjin swinging his fist at the man.

“Oh my god!” you almost screamed, your eyes wide as the guy fell to the floor instantly.

People quickly gathered around and Anthony was trying to push them away so he could grab Hyunjin.

“The lady said no, you fucking dirtbag!” Hyunjin said, swinging at the man again.

“Oh my god, Hyunjin! Stop, it’s okay, please!” you panicked, never seeing him this angry or violent.

“Hwang! Enough!” Anthony yelled, grabbing Hyunjin’s arms and lifting him up as he fought against his manager, still trying to punch the man who was now laying on the floor with his face completely bloody.

You kept looking at Hyunjin with a shocked expression as he breathed hard, his face red and sweaty from anger, the veins on his neck and forehead popping out.

“I stopped, now let me go.” he said through his teeth as someone lifted up the unconscious guy.

“Hyunjin, if this gets out to the press it could turn into a fucking shitstorm! What the hell is wrong with you?!” Anthony yelled angrily as Hyunjin stood with his fists still clenched.

“He made y/n uncomfortable and he deserved it.” Hyunjin answered before turning towards you.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his eyes softening as you stared at him in disbelief.

“I-I’m fine.”

“Good. I’m done with this party.” Hyunjin said, turning on his heel and grabbing his jacket before he walked out, leaving you standing there still trying to process what the hell just happened.

You were half asleep when Ana drove you to the tour bus.

You barely slept last night, tossing and turning in your bed as the images of Hyunjin punching that guy from the party kept swimming in your head.

Never has a man defended you like that and you’ve never seen Hyunjin look so livid before.

He was usually either smirking, laughing or being a menace, ready to always annoy you but you’ve never seen him actually angry.

It was kind of… hot, you thought before shaking it off.

You wondered why he reacted like that.

“You okay?” Ana snapped you out of your vegetative state as you sank in the passenger seat, arms crossed and hood over your head.

“Hm? Yeah, just sleepy.” you sat up and looked around.

The sun wasn’t even up yet.

“You can continue sleeping on the tour bus. We’re here.” she chuckled.

“Oh, goody.” you sighed before opening the door and walking out.

“Morning, ladies.” Anthony all but ran up to Ana, helping her with yours and her bags since she’d be joining you too.

“Morning? It’s still night.” you checked your phone, seeing it was 4:13am.

“Not where I come from. You see-” Anthony started.

“Okay, I’m too asleep to listen to this.” you shook your head before strolling towards the bus.

You were about to just climb in and go straight to the nearest bed you could find but you heard some quiet music coming from behind the back of the bus.

You approached slowly and peeked around to see Hyunjin leaning on the wall, smoking and listening to some quiet music.

He looked up instantly, seeming like a deer caught in headlights for a short moment.

“Remembered to put on a jacket?” he smirked.

“Ha ha. Very funny.” you said and he shrugged, looking away and turning the music off.

As he brought his cigarette to his lips, you noticed his knuckles were red and injured.

“I guess I should thank you for last night.” you said quietly, swinging on your feet awkwardly as you dug your hands in your pockets.

“It was nothing.” he shook his head quickly.

“I wouldn’t call that nothing.” you motioned to his hand.

“This?” he looked at his hand and chuckled. “You should see the other guy.” he winked at you, making you roll your eyes.

“Clever.”

“Come to think of it, it does hurt a bit. Wanna kiss it better?” Hyunjin smirked, puffing the smoke out.

“Bite me.” you gave him the middle finger as he laughed, the sound ringing out in the quiet early hours.

“I might. If you ask nicely.” he said with that smug expression of his.

“I’m going inside.” you shivered, realizing how cold it actually was, ignoring his witty quips.

“I’m right behind ya.” he threw his cigarette on the floor before stepping on it.

Your heart started beating fast out of nowhere as his heavy boots stomped behind you, the sound escorting you to the entrance of the bus.

“Oh wow.” your eyes widened as you looked around the living/kitchen area.

“You like?” Hyunjin leaned over your shoulder and you jolted away from him, making him snicker.

“Yeah, it’s… not what I expected. It looks more cozy than I thought it would.” you nodded.

“You should thank the interior designer.” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“And who might that be?” you asked, making your way to the bunk bed area.

“Oh, just a guy. He takes payment in kisses.” Hyunjin bumped into you as you stopped.

“Is that guy maybe you?” you turned around, not realizing immediately just how close Hyunjin was to you.

“Maybe it is.” he leaned towards you with a smirk and you squealed a little, stepping away from him.

“Give it up. I’m taking the top bunk bed.” you pointed to the left side.

“Not fair! I always take that one!” Hyunjin pouted.

“Tough luck, I called it first.” you smirked, taking off your jacket and throwing it up on the bed.

“Or… we can both sleep up there?” Hyunjin said and you scoffed, pushing him away.

“Like hell!”

“Are y’all fighting this early?” Brendon came in, looking confused and disheveled.

“No, it’s foreplay.” Hyunjin wiggled his eyebrows and you made gagging noises.

“Here’s your bag, y/n.” Ana appeared with your luggage.

Aiden and Anthony came in after and everyone took some time to unpack and get settled.

“I heard we have two pretty ladies with us, so you fellas gotta behave now.” you heard an unknown voice and leaned over to see who it belonged to.

“Oh, we always behave, Stu.” Hyunjin smirked.

“Yes, especially you.” the man, Stu, rolled his eyes.

“This is our main driver Stu.” Aiden introduced you and Ana to him.

“Pleasure to meet you ladies. Hopefully the road won’t be too bumpy.” he winked before turning around and leaving.

“Where is Bradley?” Anthony piped in suddenly.

“Who’s Bradley?” you asked, at this moment you just wanted to get everything over with and catch up on some sleep.

“Our sound guy.” Brendon answered. “And lights guy. He is underpaid and overworked, basically.” he added, giving Anthony a pointed look.

“Hey, it’s not my fault Mike quit!” he lifted his hands up. “Besides, we’re picking someone up in the next town over. He’ll be our roadie along with Bradley.”

As they started discussing, you slipped away to the bathroom, where you could change in peace and get ready for bed.

You leaned on the counter, staring at yourself in the mirror as you listened to the muffled voices talking.

Were you doing the right thing?

Accepting to join another band when your heart still hurts from the sudden falling apart between your friends and band members…

“Y/n, I need the bathroom!” Hyunjin’s voice brought you back to reality and you stood up straight.

“I’m not done yet!” you yelled back. “You have another bathroom!” you added annoyingly, preparing to brush your teeth.

“Aiden hogged it. Are you naked or something? Cause I swear I don’t mind.”

You could just hear the smirk in his voice.

Rolling your eyes, you opened the door and Hyunjin gave you the elevator eyes and they lingered on your legs in the shorts you put on, going up to your chest and lingering again before he looked up at your face.

He was playing with his lip ring again, his cheeks rosy.

“What do you want?” you spat.

“Just wanna brush my teeth.” he looked at you smugly.

You didn’t say anything, just stepped aside and continued brushing your teeth.

You opted to leave the door opened since it felt awkward to have them closed.

“Isn’t this fun, us brushing our teeth together? It’s kinda domestic, don’t you think?” Hyunjin said suddenly, the familiar smirk on his face.

“Yes, thrilling.” you answered sarcastically. “You don’t have to act nice, Hyunjin. Everyone knows we hate each other so let’s just not talk too much and try to coexist peacefully for the sake of everyone else on this tour.”

Hyunjin opened his mouth to answer but you quickly turned around and left, not wanting to get into it with him when you were tired and nervous.

He smirked to himself, shaking his head.

The only thing stuck in his brain at that moment was the way you said his name.

God, he loved it.

You slept for a few hours only, waking up early yet again as the bus rolled to a stop at a diner.

“Rise and shine, princess.” Hyunjin’s head popped up in front of you as he held onto your bed.

“Fuck off.” you grabbed your pillow and smacked him with it, almost making him fall down but he managed to land on his feet.

You heard a smack and Hyunjin saying ‘ow’ quietly before Aiden said,

“Come down if you’re hungry.”

You chuckled to yourself, waiting for them to leave so you could get ready.

Of course, as soon as you sat down in a booth, Hyunjin pushed Brendon aside and quickly slid next to you.

“Oh my god.” you rolled your eyes.

You were squished between him and Ana on your other side, and he was too close for comfort.

You could feel the heat of his body and smell the scent of his shampoo and body wash mixed with cigarettes.

You tried to ignore the feelings stirring in your gut as you ordered.

“So, how did you like sleeping on top of me?” Hyunjin smirked, tilting his head.

“Not as much as you liked sleeping under me, weirdo.” you scoffed at him and he chuckled.

“I liked it very much, so that must mean you liked it at least a little.” he said as the food arrived and your stomach growled.

“Whatever you say.” you brushed him off and started to dig in.

“We’re close to our first destination.” Anthony started after a sip of coffee. “We will arrive around 4pm and have lunch, then we get ready and do the soundcheck. Questions?”

Everyone shook their heads no.

You suddenly felt nervous tingles running up your spine, and for some reason Hyunjin felt it.

“Don’t worry princess, you’ll do great.” he smirked, placing his hand on top of your wrist.

You snatched your hand away and looked at him.

“I know I will, I was just wondering if you’ll be able to keep up with me.” you smirked back at him.

“You’ll be surprised at how well I can keep up, baby.” Hyunjin leaned into your personal space, his eyes boring into yours and you felt your cheeks burning.

“Be nice, you two.” Ana chuckled.

“What? I haven't called him an asshole yet. Emphasis on yet.”

Hyunjin laughed next to you, his arm brushing against yours.

Oh, he is so going to enjoy this.

It was such a good, familiar feeling to sit behind a drum kit after being the main vocalist and guitarist of your band for so long.

The venue was empty at this moment and the sound of the drums echoing in the space was grand.

You closed your eyes and started playing a groove to get into the mood and Hyunjin was lured towards the stage instantly.

He watched you in awe even though he saw you play the drums before, they never had the name of his band on the front of them.

Hyunjin felt proud; that his band has come so far and honored that you were now a part of their story.

He hoped you’d enjoy the tour and judging by the blissful look on your face, you were off to a good start.

“Let’s go, Hyun.” Brendon smacked his shoulder, pulling him back to reality.

It was time for the soundcheck, and when everyone was finally on stage, tuning their instruments, you realized that this is real.

Excitement replaced any nerves you had and you were ready to tear the stage apart.

“Let’s jam a little.” Aiden smiled as everyone agreed.

He started to play a melody on his bass so you followed him with the drums.

You were so focused on grooving that you didn’t notice Hyunjin winking at his two other band members.

When it was time for him to start playing his guitar, Hyunjin decided to play totally out of tune.

You looked up at him with your brows furrowed as you tried to follow him.

He changed it up suddenly, that familiar shit eating grin spreading on his face as you followed him yet again.

Brendon and Aiden stopped playing as they observed the two of you, battling it out with your instruments.

Hyunjin was trying hard to get on your nerves, push your buttons but you weren’t gonna let him in.

“Having some trouble following, princess?” he yelled over the noise.

You looked at him pointedly as he started to play another melody that made no sense and you’ve had enough.

Hyunjin had a way of getting under your skin and he obviously knew that.

Your arm lifted up on its own accord and you swung one of your drumsticks right at Hyunjin, aiming for his empty head.

His eyes widened and he managed to dodge it in a close second as the drumstick clattered on the floor.

“Ha! Attempted murder! Y’all saw that!” he pointed at you, while looking at his friends and you started laughing.

“Don’t worry, even if it did hit your head, it couldn’t damage it more than it already is.” you smirked as Hyunjin huffed.

“Oh baby, keep talking. Degradation is my thing.” he motioned towards his ear with his fingers and you made a disgusted face at him.

Of course, the asshole laughed at your expression.

“Guys, can we actually practice?” Brendon chimed in as Aiden nodded.

Instead of answering verbally, you started playing so everyone joined in.

“Are you nervous?” Aiden asked as the venue filled up and it all became real.

“Nope, I’m ecstatic!” you answered, twirling your drumstick in your hand.

“Trying to murder me once again?” Hyunjin appeared next to you as you almost hit him with it.

“Trust me, if I was trying to kill you, you’d already be dead.”

“Nobody’s killing anyone, we’re already short on staff.” Anthony smirked before putting his arms around Hyunjin and Brendon’s shoulders.

“Good luck guys! And y/n, of course. I know y’all will do great.” Anthony smiled.

Ana came up to you to hug you.

“Good luck, babe!” she smiled.

“Thank you.” you gave her a bone crushing hug, she was always like a sister to you and having her here now meant a lot to you.

As soon as you walked out on stage, the screams of all the people that came to see you perform were deafening but heartwarming.

Hyunjin was the main character on stage, that you were convinced of as whatever he did resulted in even louder screaming.

You didn’t mind being the backbone of the band, playing drums to you was a meditative and transcending experience and anything you were angry or upset about, you could take it out while playing.

Performing with Lycoris Radiata was fun as fuck, even more than you hoped for; seeing Hyunjin up close made you realize just why people loved him so much.

He was charismatic, cool and lame at the same time, ethereally beautiful and down to earth, fun but sensitive, alluring but cute, he gave his all and more.

He was everything wrapped up in one and you wondered how that was possible.

A particular moment struck you; when you were playing a slower song, Hyunjin sang so delicately, his back turned to you as the lights beamed down on his frame, his sweaty hair and skin making him look like he was glowing.

Your heart skipped a beat but you ignored it.

Near the end of the show, Hyunjin did his usual routine which consisted of making everyone’s panties wet; it was time for the sex song he always sang near the end which made you feel embarrassed and uncomfortable but something about being on stage with them got you in the right mood for it.

The part came up; and Hyunjin was on the floor, moaning and humping the air as you followed his moans with the heavy sound of your drums.

Hyunjin smirked, throwing his head back to look at you as he continued his ministrations and you continued following him on the drums.

Aiden and Brendon joined in as Hyunjin became louder, resulting in you hitting the drums harder as the sounds all came together in a crescendo.

You wished that you could press your thighs together to create pressure and friction because the whole thing managed to get you wet too.

A part of you felt ashamed but you didn’t give a flying fuck in that moment, completely letting go of everything as the four of you continued jamming together.

Hyunjin stood up with the biggest smile on his face, winking at you as he ran a lap around the stage before literally diving into the audience.

You gasped to yourself but continued playing the outro to the performance while Hyunjin was being groped by horny fanboys and fangirls.

Security was there to pull him back up on stage safely and Hyunjin sang the end of the song before screaming a ‘thank you’ into the mic.

After all four of you bowed a hundred times, you finally ran backstage where a very sweaty Hyunjin started hugging everyone, eventually coming up to you.

“Don’t even think about it.” you said as he opened his arms.

“Not thinking, just doing it.” he smirked and before you could run away, his arms wrapped around you and he pulled you into his body.

“Ew!” you squirmed against him and he chuckled.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it.” he held you tighter and your heart leaped out of your chest.

The bastard smelled so good even after sweating so much and it annoyed you how seemingly perfect he was.

“What, a gross sweaty man slobbering all over me?” you scrunched up your face as you finally pushed him away.

“I wasn’t slobbering but if you’re into that-”

“Please shut up while I’m still in a good mood.” you stopped him and he laughed.

“It’s so fun messing with you, darling.” Hyunjin ruffled your hair as you practically hissed at him, making him laugh again.

“You guys were fucking amazing!” Anthony yelled excitedly.

“I don’t know about you but I need some food.” Aiden piped in.

“I’m feeling thirsty, honestly.” Brendon added.

“Are we partying or what?” Hyunjin smirked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Hell yeah, we are!” Anthony high-fived him.

You ended up having the afterparty in the bus, ordering some food and acquiring some beer as you sat around in the living space.

Of course, as soon as you walked in, you ran for the shower, with Hyunjin cascading behind you and asking if he could join you because “it’ll be done faster”.

“Dream about it, asshole!” you yelled before closing the bathroom door.

“Oh, I do.” Hyunjin smirked to himself, but you didn’t hear him.

The excitement of the performance slowly washed away from your body along with Hyunjin’s scent that lingered after he hugged you, and you felt happy and cozy.

All of you finally settled down to eat and Hyunjin claimed the spot next to you, of course, his long slender fingers stealing your fries constantly.

“Will you back off! You have your own fries.” you slapped his arm as he whined.

“Yours are tastier.” he claimed with that familiar smirk of his.

“Are they now?” you smirked back.

“Mhm.” he nodded pointedly.

“Let’s see then.” you grabbed your box and dumped all your fries into his box before mixing them up. “Pick one up and distinguish if it’s from your box or mine.”

Hyunjin stared at you with his lips parted before he smiled.

“Aw, we’re sharing.” he said and continued eating as you heard some chuckles around the table.

“For fucks sake.” you muttered, shaking your head.

The rest of the night was full of chatter and laughter, and you didn’t mind Hyunjin’s arm or leg brushing against you ever so often, or his loud laughter ringing in your ears or him constantly poking at you.

It’s barely been one day on tour and he wasn’t as unbearable as you thought he’d be.

Everyone was tired and you had to hit the road so it was finally peaceful, before a loud scream startled everyone.

“Oh no, I am going to die!” Hyunjin wailed dramatically.

“What’s wrong with him?” you rolled your eyes as Aiden came in.

“He lost his teddy bear.”

“He what?” you chuckled in disbelief.

“Hyunjin’s teddy, he always takes it with him. He’s had it since he was a baby and he’s convinced it brings him luck.” Aiden shrugged and Hyunjin ran into the living area.

“We are doomed!” he said, grabbing your arms and shaking you.

“Calm down, it must be around here somewhere.” you sighed.

“Help me look?” Hyunjin batted his eyelashes at you as Aiden slipped away.

“Hyunjin, I’m tired, I need to get some sleep.” you whined.

“Me too! But I can’t sleep without my teddy.” he said, you couldn’t believe he was serious. “I will crawl up to your bunk and annoy you all night if you don’t help me look.” he added, smirking.

“Fine, I’ll help you.” you rolled your eyes.

“Wow, you don’t want me in your bed at all?” he kept smirking.

“Zip it. Let’s find your precious teddy.”

“Yes!” Hyunjin scurried after you as the two of you basically did a search and rescue mission for his favorite plush.

Eventually, you walked into the other bathroom, finding the old teddy sitting on the counter.

“There you are.” you picked up, chuckling at the state of it.

You couldn’t help it as you sniffed the teddy and sure enough it smelled just like its owner.

“Found it!” you yelled and Hyunjin bursted in, panting and smiling.

“Oh my god!” he exclaimed, grabbing the teddy and then you as he enveloped you in a hug for the second time that night.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Hyunjin held you tightly and you chuckled.

“Alright, you’re thankful, I get it. You can let go now.” you said, patting his back.

“I owe you.” he muttered.

“I really didn’t do anything.”

“You did, trust me.” he smiled.

As you laid in your bunk bed that night, you couldn’t stop thinking about Hyunjin.

He seemed somehow different or you were just now seeing different sides of him that you didn’t see before.

You didn’t hate him completely.

Ten days on tour and things were going great.

Every show was better than the last one, every venue bigger than the last one, every note played made Lycoris Radiata mean more and more to you.

Tonight was no exception as you ripped the stage once again, this time Hyunjin ended up lifting Aiden and spinning him at the end which almost made the poor man throw up from excitement.

“This was Lycoris Radiata, see you next time!” and with that you ran backstage where Hyunjin had to hug everyone, even asking for a group hug.

You had to humor him.

When your head finally hit the pillow, you couldn’t sleep even though you were exhausted.

You kept replaying one particular moment from the show in your head.

It was while Hyunjin was singing his famous sex song, before the moaning part, he came up to you and sang while looking at you.

You kept playing and looking at him intently as he sang the lewd lyrics right into your face.

Before he took off, Hyunjin lifted his hand, making a V shape with his fingers, doing the licking motion between them, his tongue piercing shining in the big stage light.

Your mouth fell agape for a moment as you felt hotness spread all over your body and he smirked smugly when you made a tiny mistake in your playing.

People didn’t notice but he did.

And he was satisfied with it.

You couldn’t stop thinking about it, and it had been a while since you’ve had a little ‘you time’ but it was hard to do that with so many people in the bus.

Your eyes fluttered closed and you sighed, hearing some shuffling beneath you.

“Y/n?” Hyunjin suddenly climbed up into your bed, startling you as you sat up and turned on the little light inside.

“W-what are you doing?”

“I can’t sleep. And I figured you weren’t sleeping either.” Hyunjin whispered.

“And how did you figure that?” you clutched your blanket.

“You sighed like a hundred times.” he chuckled quietly.

“What do you want?” you rolled your eyes with a smile.

“To hang out.” he pulled out a deck of cards out of nowhere.

“We can’t make too much noise, we’ll wake everyone up.” you shook your head.

“Fine then we’ll do something quiet.” Hyunjin smirked, tossing the cards aside and laying down next to you, his eyes closing.

“Turn the light off, sweetheart.” he cracked one eye open as you stared at him in disbelief.

“You are not sleeping in my bunk. Go back downstairs.” you whispered.

“No.” he answered simply.

“Hyunjin, I’m warning you, I will push you down.”

“Will you? You’ll wake up the whole bus.” he smirked.

“God, you’re so annoying!” you whisper-yelled, giving up as you laid down, turning away from Hyunjin.

“Be nice and share your blanket.” Hyunjin’s breath hit the back of your neck, making you shiver as goosebumps rose on your skin.

“Need anything else?” you muttered as he hogged your blanket and your personal space.

“A goodnight kiss?” Hyunjin leaned over you, peering at your face hopefully.

You gave him the side eye and he chuckled.

“Maybe some other time, hm?” he asked.

“Go to sleep.” you said and he laid down behind you.

“Goodnight, darling.” Hyunjin wanted to reach out and touch your hair but he figured you’d probably break his arm.

You didn’t answer, your heart beating so hard that you were afraid it was shaking the bed and Hyunjin could feel it.

You quickly turned off the light and tried to calm down.

There was enough space to where he wasn’t touching you but you felt his warmth, his scent, his breath on your skin.

It was driving you crazy and making you feel calm at the same time.

You managed to fall asleep somehow.

At some point, in the middle of the night, Hyunjin and you gravitated closer to each other and you ended up in his arms.

When you slowly blinked your eyes open and realized you were staring straight at Hyunjin’s chest, you jolted away from him, making him groan quietly.

“Where you goin’?” he mumbled into your pillow, trying to grab you.

“As far as I can from you.” you said, wiggling out of his arm that eventually caught you as he groaned again.

“Something’s poking my ass.” Hyunjin gasped when he rolled over and you laughed.

“It’s the cards, you idiot.” rolling your eyes, you left the bunk feeling embarrassed and insane as your face heated up.

What are you doing, sleeping in the same bed as Hyunjin?

You hate him, right?

You weren’t so sure anymore.

Yes, he was annoying but somehow that became kind of endearing.

He has bugged you every single day since the tour started and if he suddenly stopped, it’d feel weird.

You sighed, shaking off your thoughts as you grabbed your phone, munching on your breakfast.

“Morning, y/n. Tell me am I crazy or did Hyunjin sleep over in your bunk?” Ana smirked at you as she brought two coffees.

“You are crazy. But yes, he slept in my bunk.” you said.

“Interesting.” she smirked, lifting one eyebrow up.

“Hey, I saw you sleeping in Anthony’s bunk multiple times. What’s that about?” you teased as you opened up your insta.

“Well, everyone knows we have a thing for each other. You and Hyunjin though… oh yeah, you have a thing too.”

“We don’t have a thing.” you quickly said as Ana chuckled.

“Right. Mhm.”

You continued scrolling, and that’s when you noticed it; the hate comments on your posts.

‘She’s just a slut who’s after Hyunjin’

‘She’s delusional if she thinks he’d like her like she’s ugly lmao’

‘Untalented bitch’

‘Get her away from my Hyunjin’

‘She deserved her band falling apart they were shit anyways’

‘Y/n should retire from the music scene’

Your eyes started stinging with tears as you skimmed through the comment section.

“What’s wrong?” Ana tilted her head to look at you.

You slid your phone to her and she gasped.

“You know these people are probably some jealous, unsuccessful suckers.” she said.

“I need some air.” you sucked in a breath before hurriedly leaving the bus.

“What’s with her?” Hyunjin walked in. “Is she mad at me?”

“No, look.” Ana showed him your phone.

Hyunjin frowned instantly, running out of the bus after you.

You stood not too far away with a cigarette in your hand as you hugged yourself with your other arm and Hyunjin’s eyes softened when he saw you shivering in the wind.

“I knew you’d forget to bring a jacket.” Hyunjin put his leather jacket around you, smoothing his hand over your back a few times.

You exhaled a puff of smoke, not answering him as you melted into his big jacket.

Hyunjin took out a cigarette for himself and you reached out with your lighter, lighting it up as he smirked.

“Since when do you smoke?” he asked.

“Well, I’m feeling extra stressed right now so I needed something to take the edge off.” you shrugged.

“Because of the comments?”

“I don’t wanna talk about them.”

“I’m sorry.” Hyunjin sighed.

“It’s not your fault.” you said.

“I feel like it is.”

Hyunjin was standing so close to you that his arm was touching yours while both of you continued smoking.

You stood silently next to each other for a few more moments as the clouds passed you by, and slowly but surely Hyunjin closed the gap between your hands as he touched yours briefly before he wrapped his pinky around yours.

“Hey, you know I’m honored you’re part of my band.” his tone was serious and you couldn’t bear to look at him or you’d burst into tears.

“I know.” you smiled as you kept looking into the distance.

He smiled too, his eyes focused on you.

Hyunjin had your back; and that was a pinky promise.

Finally, you arrived to your next destination, and you’d be there for a few days which meant you had to check into a hotel.

You were glad to have some time to yourself, you needed a real shower and a real bed and just some time to get away from everything, recharge your batteries.

You just finished with your shower and skincare when your phone annoyed you, buzzing with texts constantly.

When you grabbed it you realized that you forgot to change Hyunjin’s name from ‘asshole’.

You laughed to yourself, deciding to just add a little heart at the end.

asshole<3: y/n what are you doing

asshole<3: why aren’t you answering

asshole<3: i’m BOREEEED

asshole<3: y/n!!!!

asshole<3: princess?

asshole<3: i’m coming to your room

“Shit!” you exclaimed just in time when Hyunjin knocked on your door.

“Go away, Hyunjin!” you yelled on the other side.

“Never! I will wake the whole damn floor if you don’t open this door.” he banged against it.

“Spoiled brat.” you muttered to yourself before opening the door.

“Oh.” Hyunjin looked you up and down, your hair still wet from the shower, your little nightgown accentuating all your goodies.

“Did you dress up for me?” he smirked as his tongue darted out to play with his lip piercing; a habit you picked up on.

“Oh yeah, I was just waiting for you to come knocking on my door.” you answered sarcastically.

“Oh come on, I brought snacks.” he lifted up a few bags.

“You should’ve said that first.” you stepped aside, letting him in.

“So, are you here just because you’re bored?” you scoffed as he practically skipped to your bed before throwing himself on it.

“No, I’m here cause I know you miss me.” he smirked at you. “I spared you the walk to my room, princess.”

“Oh yeah, I am the one who missed you.” you said pointedly.

“I know you are.” he wiggled his eyebrows and you groaned, throwing a pillow at him but the slick bastard caught it.

“I’m gonna change into something else.” you said, feeling a bit self-conscious.

“Into what? After that outfit, the only logical thing is to have nothing on.”

“Wouldn’t you like that?” you snickered.

“I would.” he smirked.

“Changing right now!” you left for the bathroom to put on some actual pjs.

“Don’t cross this line, Hyunjin.” you pointed as the two of you settled in your bed, ready to watch a movie and snack.

He smiled his shit eating grin and put his finger over the line.

“Whoops, crossed it.”

“Next time you lose a finger.” you threatened.

“Where is it gonna be misplaced?” he smirked.

“Not where you think.”

“You don’t know what I’m thinking.” he leaned closer to you. “But I can show you.”

“No thanks. Just watch the movie.”

It was quiet for some time until Hyunjin spoke up.

“I’m thinking of getting another tattoo.”

“Oh?” you didn’t take your eyes off the screen. “Where?”

“My back. I wanna finish what I started with my arm and shoulder.” he answered.

“Which is?” you looked at him and he smirked.

“Glad you asked.” he said, taking his shirt off.

“Woah, woah, what are you doing?” you jolted as he tossed it aside.

“Showing you my tattoos.” he giggled. “See, it’s one big picture. I sketched the original on my paper, it’s a flower’s life story. From a little seed all the way to the dust it becomes after it wilts forever. It’s not finished yet though.” he turned and you gulped.

“That’s a beautiful thought actually.”

“Feel the flowers.” Hyunjin turned his shoulder to you.

“I’m not gonna touch your tattoos.” you said.

“Come on, you know you want to.” he taunted you.

“No, I don’t.” you shook your head.

“Yes, you do. You started ogling me as soon as I took my shirt off.”

“That’s because of your musc- nothing, nevermind.” you quickly caught yourself, biting your tongue as your face started burning.

“Because of what? My muscles? You like them?” he started flexing immediately.

“That’s disgusting, stop acting like that.” you slapped his arm without thinking and you both froze.

“Oh.” Hyunjin smirked before taking your hand in his. “Really, I want you to feel my tattoos.”

“Fine if it gets you to shut up.”

Your fingers gently traced the delicate art on Hyunjin’s skin, starting from his wrist up his arm as you watched goosebumps rise on his skin.

You took your time to trace every leaf and petal as Hyunjin looked at you intently, his breaths coming out shaky as you traced over his arm, your fingers swirling with the intricate patterns.

Your hand came up to his shoulder as you continued tracing, his skin was so smooth and he was so warm under your touch.

“Y/n.” Hyunjin whispered, his hand covering yours as he leaned in closer to you, his eyelids hooded.

Your eyes widened when you realized he was about to kiss you and you quickly moved away.

“What the hell are you doing?!” you stood up and Hyunjin frowned at you.

“What does it look like I’m doing?!”

“Trying to get into my pants!” you scoffed. “I think you should sleep in your room.”

“B-but, it’s not like that!” Hyunjin stood up and you backed away.

“I know what it’s like. Please leave.”

“Fine.” Hyunjin looked dejected as he grabbed his phone and shirt. “Teddy is lonely without me anyways.” he said, making a theatrical leave out of your room as he dragged his feet and kept giving you pointed looks.

You were almost close to telling him he can stay, but as soon as he leaned in, you panicked and didn’t know how to react so you kept your mouth shut.

And you continued spiralling when he left, thinking about if he actually likes you or just wants to fuck you like he does to any girl.

You’ve seen him with girls on his arms constantly and while you always thought what you felt was hate or disgust; in this moment you recognized it was jealousy and it didn’t feel good at all.

taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun @scarlet789 @skzdust @simpforleeknaur @schniti-is-in-the-house

part 2

1K notes · View notes

nereidprinc3ss · 7 months ago

Text

do you believe me now? | 9

in which we find out how the morning after went for fem!reader. you finally share with spencer after unanticipated anxieties come up. you're continually shocked by his affection for you.

series masterlist

this series is 18+ (angst, fluff) warnings/tags: (preface none of the bad stuff is done by spencer) sexual harassment, slut shaming, non consensual voyeurism of sorts, blood + pain from losing virginity, talk of rape (nothing like that actually happens), implied nonspecific age gap (someone says he looks slightly older than you) non sexual nudity, showering together, intimacy, ewww being in love is embarrassing a/n: I honestly was not gonna post this today but I decided to bc it's just Tumblr its not that deep also you can probably tell I am just creating problems bc I don't wanna let go of them...... ik this is supposed to be a smutty series btw and trust good things come to those who wait!!!but anyways idk what I'm doing and I kinda hate this!! lolol!!!

Friday morning

The air is thick when you wake up—the angle of the sun through the window is lower than usual, and the binding weight of your limbs as you struggle to stretch in place all suggest that you’ve slept in.

But you don’t check the time quite yet—for a moment, you simply lie there, studying the pattern on your ceiling, downloading the events of the previous night.

Flashes of skin on skin, lips, breaths, whispers, promises. Phantom sensations.

Was it even real?

Your apartment is deafeningly silent, you realize. And you have that sinking sense, which you can’t quite explain but know to be true—that you are alone. Spencer is gone. You can’t feel him like you’d be able to if he were simply on the couch or in the kitchen. He’s definitely not in bed with you, and the sheets have long gone cold.

The truth of it renders about as slowly as your sluggish consciousness does, and you frown, not quite sure what to do with that information. Should you be angry? Should you cry?

Mostly you’re confused.

As soon as you sit up, sore thighs and abs and a strange ache between your legs confirm that last night was not a dream nor a figment of your imagination. You’ll figure out what to do about your twinging body in a moment—for now you rub your eyes and blindly reach for the bedside table, knocking several things to the ground in your quest for your phone.

It’s not there, you realize, once you actually try to use your eyes. It’s not in bed with you either as you pat the sheets, and it doesn’t materialize as you sit on your knees and shake out the comforter.

From this venture, however, you learn two things. First, Spencer must’ve taken it upon himself to get you dressed last night, which you have no recollection of, but you doubt you sleepwalked your way into underwear and a big t-shirt; and second—you bled.

It wasn’t something you were thinking about in the moment, but now, faced with all the evidence and none of the pleasure of last night’s activities, it’s jarring. A stark, unforgiving archipelago of red on a pristine sea of white.

People say, at its best, sex brings couples closer. Spencer once told you it could facilitate feelings of deeper connection. But here you are, no longer a virgin, and what do you have to show for it? A stronger bond with your boyfriend? He’s not even here.

All you have is this glaring red stain marring perfectly good sheets. It mocks you, like something you’ve dropped and can’t pick back up. You can’t think looking at it, and you need to think, and so in a fit of frustration you’re pulling the comforter onto the floor, leaning over your mattress and yanking the fitted sheet free. You ball it up in your hands, breathing heavily—and realize you bled through to the mattress.

Wonderful.

Spencer’s just at work, you tell yourself, grabbing the first pair of shorts you see and pulling them on before gathering the ruined sheet once more and stomping on aching legs through your apartment to the hallway, not even bothering with shoes. He can’t just play hooky because his clingy girlfriend lost her virginity and needs to be comforted like some previously celibate high school cheerleader.

But you miss him so much it’s making you angry, so much your eyes are stinging and welling with tears of frustration as you shove your bed linens down the trash chute at the end of your floor’s hallway. You’re supposed to be independent. That’s how you’ve always been. Since when does it bother you to wake up alone? It’s just sex. It’s not as big a deal for him as it is for you. Or for anyone. You’re the one overreacting, you’re the one who expects too much. He works for the FBI, for god’s sake. There are people dying, and here you are—

“What’chya got there?”

The gruff voice makes you jump, and you turn around just as the bundle is disappearing down into the hole in the wall. It’s your neighbor, Jerry—the one in the unit right next to you. You’re not happy to see him, especially like this. He’s got a blue 5 o’clock shadow despite the hour, and is clad in ill-fitting gray sweats and a pair of ratty slippers. His distended belly strains at the confines of an oil-stained white shirt, tied with a dingy checkered robe. You barely meet his drooping eyes before looking longingly back at your cracked door down the hall.

“Just… garbage.” You shift your weight, hiding a wince as you try to find a comfortable position to stand in. Jerry notices this, and you wish his eyes wouldn’t linger on your bare legs like that.

“Huh. Looks like someone had a late night.”

“Sorry?”

“It’s just noon and you’re still in your PJ’s.”

Disgusting. And who the fuck is he to judge? At least your pajamas are clean.

You shrug. “Yeah.”

He scratches his bald head.

“So that boy tired you out pretty good, huh?”

Your stomach drops. Your brain freezes.

When you don’t reply, he takes the liberty of continuing on.

“Saw him sneaking out of your apartment in the middle of the night. He looked a little older ’n you. You like ’em older?” His laugh is a cruel bark. “Yeah… He’s a lucky man. You know, it’s natural for a man to like a younger girl. Fresh meat, ’n all.” You try to speak and can only swallow a gag. Jerry adjusts his stance, hands in pockets like he’s telling you a local news story. “Heard some of it. Sounded like you were putting on quite the show. And sure, a young pretty thing like you? Hell, I would if I could. But I’ll tell you right now, you don’t wanna end up like my daughter. She wasn’t as pretty as you, but still—three kids with three men by the time she was 24. She should'a kept her damn legs closed. You know, she loved to cry rape, but you gotta ask yourself, if your legs are open all the damn time, what do you expect? Back in the day we all knew girls like that—” he bats the air dismissively. “Guess you can’t call ’em sluts anymore—they get what they’re asking for one way or another. See, I think everyone still knows it and they’re just too afraid to say it. So my advice: don’t let yourself get used up, you hear me? Not by men who are gonna ride you hard and put you away wet. So to speak. Men can smell a girl like that from a mile away, and they’ll take it as an open invitation. It’s just human nature.”

When he finally stops talking, the hallway fills with a vacuous silence. It makes your ears ring. Several moments pass, but you’re frozen. Your whole body feels intolerably hot but your blood is freezing. How are you supposed to react?

“Hello?” He says, voice loud enough to hurt your ears as it echoes.

Get out of here, your more rational self says to the rest of you, and you mumble something, you don’t even know what, excusing yourself to hurry on stiff legs back down the hall to your door.

Once inside, you do up every lock on your door, and face your apartment, shoulders tensed practically to your ears and fists clenched so tight your arms are trembling. On autopilot you look around for something to do, but there’s nothing. More importantly, nobody.

I’ll call Spencer. He’ll know what to do.

No, you won’t, your higher self reminds you. You lost your phone. And besides, it’s clearly not like he wanted to stick around last night. Maybe he doesn’t even like you anymore.

So you’re stuck here. Stranded. Sharks can smell blood.

Processing that information, you walk back to your bedroom and close the door behind you—before promptly sinking to the ground and burying your face in the duvet with a deep, silent sob.

That goes on for a few minutes until you realize you’re too achy and you can’t breathe and you’re forced onto your side, curling up in your blanket on the floor like it’s a nest and not a burial plot.

You shouldn’t get ahead of yourself. A relationship can’t implode twice in 24 hours. You don’t have your phone. Maybe he’s texted you.

But is that really all you’re worth? A text sent after the fact? He couldn’t sacrifice a few hours to sleep by your side? Couldn’t even wake you up to say goodbye? You think about the sweet things he’d said afterward—the way he held you, fingers dancing down your spine. Promises he made when you were half asleep in his arms, so sure he’d be there when you woke up.

Even fucking Jerry the neighbor—who you think might have just sexually harassed you in the hallway—said Spencer should’ve stuck around.

Fuck.

No, don’t think about that. It doesn’t even matter. They were just words.

Heard some of it. Sounded like you put on quite the show.

Your skin crawls and your stomach turns as you hold yourself tighter. Something that was supposed to be private and special—and some random man not only had a front row seat to your deflowering but felt comfortable talking about it with you. It feels like a violation. Like he crashed a really important party. If you had known you had an audience last night, you never would’ve done it.

The way he looked at you, tracing your legs with his eyes like he was touching you—

You scramble up from the floor and walk heavily on your knees to the dresser, digging up a pair of pajama pants and a hoodie. You should be showering, but you don’t want to deal with your body right now. You just want to hide.

Friday evening—present

After your conversation, Spencer seems eager to make sure the car ride to his apartment is not reminiscent of the car ride to yours last night—he holds your hand, resting in your lap, bringing your knuckles to his lips at a red light. Every few moments he glances over at you, maybe to appreciate the view (though you doubt it’s especially scenic at the moment) or perhaps to gauge your mood. The further away you get from your apartment building the better you feel, and you try to focus on that. Sure—maybe you had a shit day, but Spencer’s here now, and he didn’t leave you after all. In fact, since finding your phone, you’ve seen the series of very sweet and highly concerned messages he sent over the course of a few hours. They almost make your stomach hurt. It would’ve been really nice to have those earlier.

He doesn’t ask you any more of the hard questions, but you sense an inquisition in the works and getting closer with every curious glance he gives you. It’s like he’s unwrapping you, layer by layer, using his impressive cognitive faculties to drill through your skull into your brain and deeper still into your soul.

Back in his apartment you sit awkwardly on the bed. Last time you’d been here, things hadn’t gone so well for you.

The shower starts in the adjoined bathroom, and Spencer comes out a moment later, warm light seeping into the darkened bedroom. Purple and dark blue mixing with yellow, like a bruise.

“Hey. Water’s warm.”

You hum, smoothing the material of his neatly made bed with your palm and watching the way it flattens. That had been your doing. You may have thought he was on the verge of breaking up with you last time you slept here, but you didn’t want to leave his home a mess. Didn’t want to leave any evidence of your having been here.

A moment passes. You thumb at a thread and don’t look up.

Spencer crosses the space without a word and crouches in front of you, hands coming up to cup the back of your legs, running knee to ankle and up again.

“Can you tell me what’s going on? Please?” He asks softly. His voice wrings your heart out. Now that you’re in a completely different space, and you’re not so alone anymore, you’re struggling to sort out your feelings. It should be fine. You’re with Spencer. Presumably he still loves you.

And you still feel terrible.

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” you whisper.

“I know,” he says, just as quietly.

Spencer doesn’t say anything else. I know you don’t want to—and yet. Your lips twist to the side. He’s persistent. Even in his kindness. It’s not the kind of care that falters or buckles when you try turning it away.

“My neighbor said he c—”

You’re forced to stop, frowning by how overcome you are. It shouldn’t be such a big deal. Worse things have happened to you.

“He said he could hear us. Last night.”

Spencer’s hands stop on your legs. You can’t meet his eyes. You’re afraid whatever you find there won’t be the right thing.

“He’s in the unit next to you?”

You nod. “We share a wall.”

There’s a moment’s hesitation and your stomach sinks. He doesn’t understand.

“What did he say?”

“Just… dumb shit,” you scoff, fiercely wiping away a stray tear. “He said he listened and it sounded like I was putting on quite the show. And then he—and then he told me not to let you… use me up, whatever that means. He called me fresh meat, and said I shouldn’t let you ride me hard and put me away wet, and bad things happen to sluts who can’t keep their legs closed.”

You finish with a sharp inhale, briefly leaning down and covering your face with your hands when you realize how upset you really are. You want to hide it.

A fraught moment passes. Spencer reaches for your hands, no doubt to try and pull them away from your face. You spare him the trouble, sitting up with a cavalier sniff before he can touch you and brushing your hair behind your ears.

His voice is uncomfortably quiet. You can’t look at him. “Baby…”

“Don’t. It’s fine. I only told you because you asked.”

It’s not his fault, but you’re mad at him anyway, and so you avoid eye-contact like it’s the plague. Maybe it’s just safe to be mad at him. Maybe he knows that.

Regardless, you’re not in the mood for coddling. It’s borderline repulsive—like trying to mix oil and water. Anything good slides right off of you because maybe you’re not designed to be able to absorb good things.

Nothing changes for a minute—and then he’s standing, offering you a moment alone as he goes to crank the shower off.

As soon as he’s gone all the air is vacuumed from your lungs and you crumple, heaving it back in silently as your head spins and your heart races. It’s like your mind is split in two—half is primal, overwhelming panic, and the other a cold observatory eye, full of disdain and scorn for what it deems a severe overreaction to a few nasty comments made hours ago. You’re so tangled up as you curl in on yourself on your side that you can’t even cry. You’re just trying to remember how to breathe, ignoring the crawling feeling up your spine and the tingling heat at the back of your neck. The shower stops on the downbeat of your staggered breath, and then it’s silent. He’ll come back at any minute and see what a mess you’ve become.

You’ve ruined everything. If only you could’ve kept it to yourself.

When Spencer reappears in the doorway, and sees you collapsed and curling like paper burnt at the edges, he’s quick to return to you.

“I’m sorry,” you manage, trying and failing to brush away hair from your cheek, which is wet—so you were crying—and Spencer shushes you, pushing it away for you as he kneels.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“I’m being dramatic, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Of course, at the end of that declaration, a sob wrenches its way from the depths of you, so bright and cleaving you half expect the smell of ozone to follow. You follow it with a blisteringly self-deprecating laugh.

“Don’t—don’t do that. Don’t minimize it.”

His hand is warm where it rests over your cheek, affectionate, but he sounds frustrated. You frown and sniffle.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Tell me his name.”

It’s a quiet request, made as gently as his hand cards through the hair at your temple like it’s woven with fragile threads of gold.

“No, Spencer,” you beg, anxiety pooling in your gut and rising in your throat, “please, I don’t want to make it a thing, I don’t want you to talk to him. You’ll just make it worse, it’s fine.”

You look at him imploringly, eyes wide and still welling, hoping to god the gravity of your plead will sink in. His are a bed of coals—somewhere between furious and sympathetic, and you try to appeal to the sympathy.

“It is not fine. Saying sluts get what’s coming to them is not fine, that is a threat, and I’m not going to talk to him. I’m going to have him fucking arrested.”

You scoff.

“For talking to me? Yeah, good luck with that. Cops are really known for being helpful when it comes to sexual harassment.”

“Baby. Men who are comfortable violating your boundaries like that are exponentially more likely to commit an actual violent crime. That is not a safe person for you to be around.”

“He’s not gonna rape me, Spencer! He’s just a gross old man! This is why I didn’t want to tell you, because I knew you’d make it a bigger deal than it is! You did it last night and you’re doing it now—you think everyone is out to get me!”

To his credit, he doesn’t so much as raise his voice.

“Of course it’s a big deal. You’re upset.”

“Yeah, well, it’s my own fault.”

Maybe it’s the wrong thing to say. Spencer goes silent for a moment.

“It’s your fault?”

“Yes. It’s my fault because… because now everyone knows that I’m…”

His voice goes impossibly soft again. “Knows that you’re what?”

“I mean, what did I expect?” You sniffle. “It’s an apartment. If I didn’t want to deal with the consequences, I shouldn’t’ve done it.”

He says your name like it’s a ring he twists around his finger as he tries to think—to gather the right words.

“The consequences for having sex do not involve punishment or sexual harassment.”

“It’s the result of my actions, so—”

“No, it’s the result of your neighbor being disgusting. I don’t care what he heard, he doesn’t get to talk to you like that.”

“He—”

“If you heard something you weren’t supposed to hear would you bring it up to the person the next day?”

“Stop interrupting me,” you plead. Spencer looks like he has something to say to that, too, but he swallows it. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “I… understand that he shouldn’t have said those things to me. But that doesn’t change the fact that he did, and it was really, really uncomfortable and I don’t wanna—I don’t wanna go back now. Maybe that’s dramatic, but…”

You trail off, studying the ceiling as a fresh wash of tears dampen your cheeks. Spencer’s hand slides down your waist as you wipe your face. “I don’t regret the fact that we slept together. I just regret everything that’s happened since, and if I didn’t do it last night, none of this would’ve happened. I feel like he ruined everything.”

The words end on another cry and you put your hand over your eyes like you could stop it all from coming out. You sniffle. Spencer is quiet for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” he eventually whispers, his own voice threaded with emotion. “I…”

He sighs. You push your hair back and look at him.

“What?”

He studies you, chewing on his lip like a nervous tick you’ve never seen before. You sit up again, feet balanced on the edge of the bed frame. Spencer’s eyes remain stuck on you. Again, you ask, “What?”

“I didn’t think about it until you brought it up earlier, but—I did see someone. Him, I think, when I went out to my car to get my bag. He was smoking when I came out, and when I got back into the lobby he was waiting for the elevator. We took it up together, he—he said something to me, so I know he saw me going back to you. I don’t know why he made it sound like I left.”

You frown. “What did he say?”

Spencer hesitates.

“He asked if I had a long night. He was obviously commenting on the fact that I was basically half-dressed and getting an overnight bag from my car at one in the morning, so he could probably gather from context what was going on, but… my point is, he knew I came back and it seems like he was almost trying to make you think I didn’t. So for whatever reason, maybe he was lying about being able to hear you, too. Maybe he just wanted to make you uncomfortable.”

“That’s a long shot, Spencer.”

“I know, but… it’s not that long. He obviously gets off on it—and besides, he said you were putting on a show, but you weren’t… you weren’t loud, last night.”

Heats blossoms in your cheeks and you look down at your lap. “Thin walls.”

“Have you ever heard your neighbors before?”

You have to seriously think about it.

“I’ve heard them yelling…”

“Nothing else?”

Again, you consider it. The answer comes as a surprise.

“No.”

“Okay, so… does that maybe help a little bit? I really, really don’t want you to feel like last night was a mistake in any way, or let anyone ruin it for you.”

You breathe deeply. “I know. It… it kinda helps, yeah.”

His hands come to the top of your legs. There’s so much genuine care and concern in his eyes. “Yeah?”

Only when you nod does he relax some. His hands skim your thighs, and you set yours on top of his own. For a few breaths, it’s quiet. And then you laugh.

“What?” Spencer asks, a tentative smile curling his own lips like he doesn’t know if he should be concerned or participate in your mirth.

“I—I don’t know how to say it without being cheesy,” you admit, sniffling the last of your tears away and smiling softly down at him.

“I think you should say it.”

You link your fingers with his on your lap, watching the way they twine like it’s what they were meant to do.

“I was just thinking about how I had, like, the worst day ever. And how much worse it would’ve gotten if you didn’t show up when you did—I would’ve completely spiraled. But you did show up. And how easy it is to kind of compartmentalize, because I have you, and when I’m with you… nothing feels as hard. You make the bad things feel smaller, I guess.”

By the end, it got a lot more real than you’d intended, and your face feels warm, and your stomach is sort of floaty—but you don’t look away from Spencer. You hold his gaze, though it makes you a little nervous, because you want him to know you mean it.

He inhales, like he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t—only looks at you, like you’re beautiful and impossible and a defiance of everything he thought he knew, which was almost everything. To him, you’re expansive. A gorgeous anomaly.

And then he stands, holding his hands out for you. Without question you take them, and he pulls you to your feet, absorbing the momentum that threatens to topple you, and he wraps his arms around you tightly. So tight you have to laugh.

“I love you,” he says against your shoulder, one hand coming to cradle the back of your head.

Your humor softens, but doesn’t become inflexible—still tinges your words with the perfect amount of euphoria and relief. “I love you.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles, and your laughter flares again.

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“But I’m grateful. I… I feel lucky.”

Always so earnest, so vulnerable, when you’re least expecting it—which should be always, you’re learning. You pull back to look up at him. You don’t want that concession to go unrewarded.

“Me too,” you say softly. He’s doing that fond thing with his eyes, where they’re all soft and it’s like he’s trying to take in every millimeter of your face. This time when he goes to touch your hair, you have the wherewithal to dodge it.

“You’re really brave for trying to touch my hair right now.”

“Why?” He asks, utterly bewildered, and the softness of the moment falls away easily, but not without leaving everything smudged and fuzzy around the edges. Everything is still okay. It’s still good.

“Because it’s dirty,” you laugh, dodging him again and eventually ducking from the circle of his arms entirely.

“Oh, your hair is dirty? Should we breakup?”

“Hm. I don’t really like when you take on that tone with me.” You’re still half-laughing, dipping and weaving past him toward the bathroom as he tries to get you in his arms again. And then you stop, toes just short of the tile.

“What is it?” He asks after another moment. You blink, looking at the shower head as it drips.

“Um—would it be okay if I had a five minute headstart in the shower?”

“Sure. Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine. I just… I need a minute.”

His hand skims your waist as he passes by you through the open door. “Okay. Why don’t you grab your stuff and I’ll get the water going again?”

Soon enough, you’re remembering how much better his water pressure is than yours as you stand under the torrent, eyes closed as if in prayer. You definitely could’ve stood to shower earlier in the day. But you had other concerns, earlier, and besides—you were afraid of what you might find.

And you were right to be. The sex was nice. The aftermath isn’t quite as pretty.

When Spencer taps on the bathroom door, you’re nervous.

“You can come in,” you call.

“You sure? If you want it all to yourself, that’s okay too.”

“No, no. It’s fine.”

The door creaks open, and gently clicks into place again, and fabric rustles as he undresses, and soon the shower curtain is sliding aside and he’s stepping in. Unsurprisingly, the space feels smaller with him in it—but not small in a bad way. It feels warmer. Again you’re awash in that safe feeling, which you didn’t realize you’d been missing so much today.

“Hi,” he smiles, a teasing sliver of what you know to be the most brilliant light in the world, and stunning like the rest of him as you watch the water begin to darken his hair.

“Hello.”

His smile flickers briefly wider like you’re his favorite thing and he just can’t contain his joy, and then it’s easing again, giving you a moment to catch your breath.

“Is it okay if I touch you?”

In this alien context the idea has your heart pounding—you don’t really understand the concept of casual nudity yet, but you know he’ll respect your earlier wishes to keep it chaste and so you nod.

Spencer doesn’t take you immediately in his arms like you’d expected—instead his hands find a rest at your collarbones and carefully push your wet hair back over your shoulders—but his eyes aren’t cast quite low enough to be indecent. They connect dots over your chest and neck, and he thumbs at one just over your pulse point.

“Oh, man,” he laughs, and you think you detect a hint of self-deprecation. “That’s… wow, I didn’t realize I… sorry. They don’t hurt, do they?”

It’s your turn to smile as he’s suddenly over-concerned.

“No, they don’t hurt.”

“Good.” He looks relieved, but it doesn’t last as his eyes trace lower—though you don’t sense any hunger in it. He’s just taking you in. “How about everywhere else?”

“Um… it’s not bad. Kind of, like… I don’t know. Sore. But it’s not bad.”

“Still?” He frowns, clearly unfazed by your evident embarrassment on the subject. You shrug and avert your eyes.

“It’s fine. it was worse earlier, so.”

That does not have the calming effect you’d intended.

“Worse? 1-10, how—”

“Spencer, it’s fine, I promise. It’s only when I—when I move certain ways, I notice. Honestly the… blood… was way more disconcerting to me.”

“Yeah, I saw your bed… sorry for ruining your sheets. I’ll buy you new ones.”

You shrug, watching the water run in rivulets down your arm and branch off into tributaries and waterfalls from your fingers. “You don’t have to do that. It was a collaborative effort.”

Normally this conversation would have you melting into an embarrassed puddle, but something about the tile cocoon of the shower, the humid fog, the proximity, feels safe. The white noise of water on porcelain, the warmth. You go to him at the same time as he comes to you—his arms around your waist, yours slung over his shoulders. Your eyes flutter shut. Falling asleep standing up has never seemed so plausible until now.

He presses a kiss to your head. You sigh.

“Ugh. I don’t want to deal with washing my hair.”

“I can do it,” Spencer immediately offers. You frown.

“I was—you don’t have to. I didn’t mean to make it sound like I was asking.”

“I know you didn’t.”

“It’s a process.”

“I understand.”

“You would have to do it exactly how I say.”

“I am willing to learn. I like taking care of you.”

You’re glad for the hot water, then, and as he washes your hair. You’re not sure if you’re crying at the tenderness of his touch, or the way he loves you like you’re easy to love. You’re too tired to explain it.

He doesn’t push you, because he never pushes you.

He just washes your hair.

part ten

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic

1K notes · View notes

adelliet · 6 days ago

Text

Joel Miller x f!reader

MILLER'S ABYSS

Summary: Your sister is marrying one of the Millers — but you despise the other one, and the feeling is mutual. Still, family is supposed to stick together, not tear each other apart. So, over time, the two of you grow closer… far closer than anyone ever expected.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, enemies to lovers, age gap (not really mentioned), strong language, nicknames (goor girl…) praise kink, sexual tension, oral sex ( f receiving ), creampie, rough unprotected sex ( p i v ), harassment, mention of weapons and alcohol

A/n: Hello! I swear to god I wrote a long ass novel. I am really sorry for anyone, who decided to read the whole thing…anyways if you have any ideas, suggestions, or anything else, feel free to text me. Also, I apologize for any grammar mistakes or phrases that might not make sense—English isn’t my first language :3 But I hope you enjoy the story! <3

Masterlist

You’ve been around since the very beginning of your sister’s relationship with Tommy.

From the moment she started gushing daily about how beautiful his eyes were, how no man had ever smiled at her the way he did, how kind and attentive he was. You witnessed it all — the blissful highs and the inevitable lows. The fights, the breaks, the tearful late-night conversations about breaking up… though they never actually did.

You were there for every moment, even the ones you wish you hadn’t been. Kate had never been shy about sharing even the most intimate details of her relationship with you. She had no filter, and unfortunately for you, that included describing her and Tommy’s sex life in disturbingly vivid detail.

Once, you even caught them in the act in your own house. But hey, that’s a memory you can kind of laugh about now… sort of.

So when she told you Tommy had proposed, you weren’t surprised — not in the slightest. You were happy for her. You loved your sister more than anything, and you knew she had chosen the right guy. Honestly, you were just relieved she hadn’t chosen his brother — Joel.

From the first moment those grumpy, judgmental eyes met yours, Joel Miller had been a pain in your ass. Arrogant. Insufferable. Always had something snarky to say about you at every family gathering. And sure, you gave it back. You were never the type to sit there and take it. Which is exactly how this rivalry had formed. Let’s just call it what it is: you and Joel were enemies.

Until now, it wasn’t really a problem. You could ignore him, roll your eyes when his name came up, and pray you wouldn’t be seated next to him at dinner. But now that your sister was officially going to be a part of the Miller family, officially taking their name, sharing their home, their holiday dinners, that made you, like it or not, a part of their family too. Great.

And if that wasn’t enough, your sister had been relentlessly pushing you to make peace with Joel. “For her.” As if you owed it to her to get along with a man who seemed to exist solely to piss you off.

She guilt-tripped you into it, like she always did, and you hated that it worked. Because as manipulative as she could be, you loved the hell out of her. And you knew this meant the world to her. But Joel? Joel was still a jackass, pre-wedding or not, he wasn’t going to change.

You were still at home when Kate barged into your room like she owned the place — which, technically, she almost did, considering how often she was there. Dressed in a soft green sweater and jeans, she looked casual, relaxed, and maddeningly excited.

Meanwhile, you were half-dressed, still holding a flat iron in one hand and a look of pure dread on your face.

“Come on,” she said with a cheerful grin. “It’s just dinner.”

You narrowed your eyes at her in the mirror. “It’s never just dinner when Joel’s involved.”

Kate sighed dramatically, flopping down on your bed like some exhausted mother of the bride. “You two need to get over this weird… war thing. He’s really not that bad.”

You raised an eyebrow. “He once referred to me as ‘extra baggage’ in front of your entire family.”

“Okay, yes, that was… not his finest moment. But he was joking,” she admit, but still tried to save it.

“Oh yeah, nothing screams hilarious comedy like being publicly insulted.”

She sat up, crossing her legs under her. “Please, babe. Just try tonight. For me. If you can survive one dinner without threatening to stab him with a fork, I swear I’ll never ask you for anything ever again.”

You let out a dry laugh. “You say that every time.”

“And yet you keep saying yes,” she smirked.

You groaned. She was right. You hated how much you loved her. With a final puff of frustration, you turned off the flat iron, stood up, and grabbed your jacket. “Fine. But if he calls me ‘baggage’ again, I’m pouring wine on his lap.”

Meanwhile, Joel is going through the exact same thing. Tommy’s been in his ear all week, pressuring him to play nice. To “just give her a chance.” Tommy’s been acting like he’s the victim, like he’s stuck in the middle, practically begging Joel to make the effort. So now you and Joel are both being dragged into this under the pretense of a “family bonding” dinner.

By the time you two got to the Miller house, it was already dusk. The porch light was on, casting a warm glow over the wood panels and old swing seat hanging to the side. Tommy opened the door before you even knocked. He immediately scooped Kate into his arms, greeting her with a kiss that lasted a bit too long for your taste.

“Jesus, get a room,” you muttered under your breath.

Tommy chuckled. “Evenin’,” he said, giving you a nod.

You gave him a polite smile. “Hey.”

Then came the moment your blood turned cold. Joel stepped into the doorway, leaning casually against the frame. His hair was slightly damp like he’d just showered, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He didn’t say anything — just looked at you. You looked back. And there it was again, that mutual expression of ugh, it’s you.

Kate and Tommy exchanged matching looks and leaned into your ears simultaneously.

“Be nice,” she hissed at you.

“Don’t start anything,” Tommy whispered to Joel.

You both scoffed.

Dinner prep was a disaster waiting to happen. For some unknown reason, probably Kate and Tommy being evil geniuses, you and Joel were tasked with setting the table and bringing out the food. The tension in the kitchen was unbearable.

“Could you not stand in front of the fridge like a statue?” you snapped.

“I’m getting the damn salad, princess,” Joel grumbled, pulling out the bowl and practically shoving it into your arms.

You glared. “Try using your words instead of your muscles, Neanderthal.”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t tempt me to go back to grunting. Might actually be more productive.”

The more you moved around each other, the worse it got — bumping hips at the counter, brushing arms when reaching for the same spoon, and more than once, you two knocked elbows hard enough to make you both wince.

“Watch it,” you muttered.

“You watch it,” he shot back.

“Jesus Christ,” you both said at the same time, throwing your heads back in sync. Which, of course, only made things worse because now you were in sync, and that was not acceptable.

Finally, Kate came in and clapped her hands. “Enough! Can you two just pretend not to hate each other for one night? Please?”

You and Joel both grumbled something under your breath and carried the last dishes to the table in stony silence.

Dinner was… exactly what you expected. You sat across from Joel — naturally. Your jaw was clenched the entire time, and you were very aware of every fork and knife placement, just in case they needed to become weapons. The air was so thick with tension it could’ve been sliced like the roast chicken on the table.

Kate and Tommy tried to salvage the evening with small talk.

“So…” Kate started, glancing between you and Joel, “how was everyone’s day?”

“Fine,” you said flatly.

“Work,” Joel replied, same tone.

Tommy tried to step in. “Hey, did you two know you both listen to Johnny Cash? I found out the other day when—”

“I liked him first,” you snapped.

Joel raised a brow. “Didn’t realize it was a competition.”

“Everything is a competition with you.”

Tommy looked between you both like a tennis match was playing out on the table. “O-kayyy…”

Kate, bless her heart, still tried. “Oh! What’s one thing you two have in common, hmm? Let’s start there.”

You both said nothing.

Joel took a slow sip of water and said, “We both hate this dinner.”

You nodded. “He’s not wrong.”

Kate sighed, Tommy just reached for the wine bottle, shaking his head. They both knew this is going to be a long night.

Dinner was mostly quiet — painfully so. The clink of forks against plates and the occasional hum of conversation from Tommy and Kate filled the room, but that was about it. You and Joel barely spoke.

Occasionally, your eyes would meet across the table, sometimes with passive annoyance, other times with flat-out disgust, and sometimes with something neutral. But even neutrality between you two felt tense, like a ceasefire that could end at any moment.

Tommy tried to lighten the mood a few times, making dumb jokes about the food or poking at Joel’s cooking skills.

“This chicken dry, or is it just me?” he teased with a grin.

Joel gave him a look. “If it’s dry, it’s ’cause you didn’t baste it. That was your job.”

Kate laughed, trying to follow up. “At least you two managed not to kill each other in the kitchen, right?”

No response. But they tried again.

“So,” Kate began, clearly reaching, “any plans this weekend?”

“I work,” you said.

Joel echoed, “Same.”

Another silence fell, heavier than before. The kind of silence that made your jaw ache just from clenching it so long. No matter how hard Tommy and Kate tried to spark something between you two — laughter, small talk, anything — the tension in the room snuffed it out before it could catch fire. It wasn’t just awkward. It was chemical.

You and Joel in the same space were like two opposing forces, constantly repelling, constantly charged. Too close and it sparked. Too far and it still lingered in the air like static.

After dinner, as expected, you and Joel were once again exiled to the kitchen, this time to wash the dishes.

Kate had literally clapped her hands and said, “Bonding time!” before shoving the dirty plates into your arms. You didn’t even have time to argue before she and Tommy disappeared into the living room, probably to laugh about your misery.

Now you stood next to Joel, the two of you shoulder-to-shoulder at the sink.

He washed. You dried. Silence.

The sound of running water filled the space, along with the occasional clink of a fork against a plate. You hadn’t said a single word since you entered the kitchen, and neither had he.

The mood wasn’t angry, though. Not anymore. It was something else. Something you couldn’t quite name.

You turned your head slightly, and your gaze drifted downward, toward his hands.

You didn’t mean to stare, but something about them caught you. His hands were large, strong, weathered. The veins stood out beneath the tanned skin, pulsing slightly as he gripped a soapy plate. His knuckles looked a little bruised, like he’d been working with tools recently, or maybe throwing punches. There was hair on his forearms, just enough, and the muscles flexed subtly as he moved, the way a man’s body does when he doesn’t even think about it.

You swallowed. Your eyes lingered on his fingers. Long, sure, and steady. You imagined, just for a split second, how they would feel against your skin. What they would do if they weren’t holding a dish, but holding you. You bit your lip.

The kitchen faded around you. The water noise dimmed. Everything felt slow, heavy, thick like honey. Your chest tightened, your stomach dropped, and something low and electric buzzed between your legs — a tension that coiled and pulled without warning, warm and unwanted and there. You weren’t even breathing right.

You didn’t realize he was speaking to you.

“Hey. Plate.”

Your head snapped up, too late. He was holding a clean plate, expecting you to take it. But your hands stayed frozen, and when he let go, it slipped. The crash was loud.

Porcelain shattered against the floor in a sharp burst, and you gasped, stepping back automatically.

“Shit,” Joel muttered under his breath, already reaching down.

You moved forward, instinctively trying to kneel, but his hand shot out fast, palm pressed against your hip to stop you.

“Don’t,” he said firmly, his voice low — not angry, not annoyed. Protective. You froze in place.

He crouched and swept up the shards quickly, moving with precision, barely saying a word. He worked silently, efficiently, like it was nothing, but his jaw was tight. His eyes flicked up at you once, his brows furrowed. His expression was angry and confused all at once.

He stood back up after dumping the last of the shards into the trash bin, wiping his hands on a towel with a sigh, sharp and fed up.

Then he turned toward you with that same ever-present frustration in his eyes.

“What is wrong with you?”

You blinked at him, speechless.

“What, were you daydreamin’ so hard you forgot how to use your hands?”

His tone wasn’t playful. It wasn’t even annoyed. It was accusatory, like you’d done it on purpose, just to piss him off.

You didn't answer. You couldn't. Your body was frozen in place, the towel still clenched in your fingers, your lips parted like you might say something — but no sound came out. You weren’t even mad. Not this time. Because underneath all that embarrassment, all that tension, was confusion.

What the hell was that?

Why had you been staring at his hands like they were goddamn poetry? Why had your brain short-circuited and your body reacted like that — like you wanted something from him?

From Joel fucking Miller.

You didn’t understand yourself right now. At all.

Joel scoffed under his breath when you didn’t respond and brushed past you without another word, tossing the towel over the edge of the sink and leaving you standing there — warm, unsettled, and angry at no one but yourself.

After you and Kate finally left the Miller house and inhaled the fresh night air, Kate looped her arm through yours. She looked up at you with that too-knowing expression.

“Well?” she asked, her voice casual, but the look on her face said spill it.

You gave her the look — that don’t start with me kind of face.

Kate exhaled, long and exaggerated. “Seriously? What is it gonna take for you two to stop acting like mortal enemies?”

You didn’t answer right away, just stared out at the sidewalk ahead.

“I know he’s annoying,” she went on. “I know he’s pushy, and grumpy, and rude as hell, but Jesus, he’s not the devil. He’s just Joel.”

You finally spoke, voice lower than usual. “I get it. Okay? I get it. You’re marrying into his family, I’m technically gonna be stuck with him for the rest of my life, blah blah blah.”

She smirked. “So you’ll try?”

You sighed. “I will. But only if he does, too. I can’t be the only one putting effort into something we both clearly hate.”

Kate made a noise between a laugh and a groan. “Fair enough. But God, I swear, if you two ruin the wedding photos with your death glares…”

Back inside the Miller house, Joel was slouched on the couch, legs spread out, beer in hand. Tommy returned from the kitchen with two more beers and plopped down beside him.

“So,” he said, cracking open a bottle. “What the hell happened in there?”

Joel didn’t even look at him. “She dropped a plate.”

Tommy squinted. “She dropped it?”

Joel shrugged. “I handed it to her, and she just… didn’t take it. Let it fall. Her fault.”

Tommy gave him a really, man? look. “You think maybe she was distracted or somethin’? Maybe you distracted her?”

Joel scoffed. “You think she was distracted by me? Please. If anything, she was probably daydreamin’ about strangling me.”

Tommy raised a brow, clearly not buying the sarcasm. “You ever think that maybe the reason you two can’t stop fighting is because there’s somethin’ else going on?”

Joel shot him a glare. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Tommy said, leaning forward with that big-brother patience, “that you’ve been on her case since day one. And maybe it’s not just because she annoys you.”

Joel opened his mouth, but Tommy cut him off.

“I’m serious, man. The wedding’s in a few days. Can you do me a favor and try to get along with her until then? I don’t need you two turning the rehearsal dinner into a goddamn war zone.”

Joel looked away, jaw clenched. He didn’t say anything for a while. Just took a long drink from his bottle.

Eventually, he muttered, “I’ll think about it.”

Tommy rolled his eyes. “Better than nothing, I guess.”

The tension between you and Joel hadn’t eased in the slightest since that night at the Miller household. If anything, the silence had grown louder, more hostile. Kate and Tommy, of course, refused to give up on their master plan to “bring the two of you together,” as if your lives were a cheesy rom-com and not a daily emotional battlefield.

With the wedding quickly approaching, they decided the best way to force bonding would be through responsibility. Specifically: seating arrangements and wedding invitations. Apparently, this critical task needed the undivided attention of you and Joel. Together. Alone. In their house. Because of course.

Kate and Tommy conveniently had an appointment in town, something about last-minute candle holders and music rehearsals, and “oh no, what a shame, you guys will just have to hold down the fort!” Kate practically squealed while Tommy tried to look like it wasn’t part of their evil plan.

So there you were, sitting stiffly at the Millers’ dining table, stacks of RSVP cards, envelopes, and color-coded guest lists spread out in front of you. Joel sat across from you, equally still, equally uninterested in being here.

The silence was thick. Occasionally, one of you would mutter something like, “He’s allergic to nuts, right?” or “That name’s spelled with an ‘e’.”

Minimal communication. Minimal eye contact. Maximal contempt.

You let out a heavy sigh as you picked up a fresh stack of blank envelopes. “Y’know, this would’ve been so much easier if the world hadn’t ended,” you muttered under your breath. “A few clicks and everyone would’ve had a damn email invite. Done in five minutes.”

Joel raised an eyebrow. “You miss the internet that bad?”

You shrugged. “I miss not having to do this shit by hand, yeah.”

He scoffed. “It’s a wedding. People used to do this all the time.”

You shot him a look. “People used to do a lot of dumb things.”

Joel raised both hands in mock surrender, then muttered, “Including arguing about paper.”

A few beats passed in silence again before you looked up, a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth. “This whole thing’s weird, isn’t it?”

Joel looked at you cautiously. “Which part?”

“All of it,” you said. “Two people falling in love in this… mess. Choosing each other. Wanting to celebrate it. Feels like some part of the old world pretending it still exists.”

He didn’t respond, just kept his eyes on the page in front of him.

You watched him a second longer, then said, “I mean… what does that even mean anymore? Love. You think it still means the same thing it used to?”

Joel finally looked up.

You met his gaze, and the words slipped out before you could think twice, not really curious, more mocking than anything else. “What does love even mean to you, Joel Miller?”

He stared at you, his jaw slowly tightening.

You added with a touch of venom, “Have you even ever been in love? Or are you too emotionally constipated for that, too?”

He froze. The look in his eyes darkened, and the air between you changed.

“The hell did you just say?”

You didn’t flinch. “I called you a pussy, Joel.”

His nostrils flared. “Say it again.”

“I said, you’re a pussy.”

The silence that followed was dense, almost buzzing. Joel’s eyes drilled into you, and for a second, you weren’t sure what he was going to do. Yell? Walk out?

But instead, he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, voice low and sharp.

“You wanna talk big, huh? Then tell me, what does love mean to you, sweetheart?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Yeah. Since you’ve clearly got all the answers.”

You hesitated, heart skipping. Your mouth opened, then closed. You looked away.

“That’s what I thought,” Joel said.

You stared at the table for a long moment, heart pounding in your ears. Then, before you could stop yourself, your voice broke the silence.

“Love is… when you can’t breathe right unless that person is in the room. When you’d rather fight with them than be at peace with anyone else. When you want to see all the ugly parts of them and still stay. And when their pain… feels like yours.”

You didn’t dare look up, not right away. When you finally did, Joel was staring. Not blinking. Not moving. Just looking. Like he’d never really seen you until now.

He cleared his throat suddenly, shifted, and said, “Huh.”

Then he nodded. Once. Turned back to the list. The moment lingered. Hung between you like a string, pulled taut.

Then he spoke again.

“Love’s when you wanna walk away but something keeps pullin’ you back. When you can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout how they laugh… or how mad they get. When you know it’s messy and it still feels like home.”

You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t. Something inside you had shifted.

But before it could settle, before the warmth could sink in…

Joel muttered, “Still doesn’t explain why you act like a damn gremlin every time I speak.”

You scoffed. “Because you speak like a man who’s never been hugged.”

“Then maybe you should try it sometime,” he shot back.

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, please. I’d rather hug a cactus.”

“Figures,” Joel said. “Prickly little thing like you would.”

Still, despite the insults, the two of you finished the task. The guest list was done. Invitations sorted. But the words exchanged, the raw ones, clung to the air. And you didn’t quite know how to feel.

You had just gotten home, the front door clicking shut behind you with a soft thud. Your shoulders slumped immediately. The moment you stepped into your own space, a small but safe corner of Jackson, you let out a sigh that had been bottled up since you left the Miller house.

The silence here was different. Not tense or charged like it had been with Joel. Just… quiet.

You slipped off your jacket, toed off your boots, and dropped your bag on the floor without ceremony. The thought of Joel’s voice, his eyes locked on yours when you told him what love meant to you…it haunted the back of your mind like a persistent shadow. You shook your head, trying to return back to reality.

A knock at your door pulled you from your thoughts. You already knew it was her.

Kate stood there with a small smile, holding a container of something vaguely edible and homemade. “Peace offering,” she said. “And no, you don’t get to say no.”

You let her in, and a few minutes later you were both curled up on your couch, the dish of food forgotten on the coffee table. Kate had that look, the one she wore when she was trying to act casual, but her whole soul was bubbling with questions.

“So…” she said, dragging the word out dramatically. “How’d it go?”

You blinked, already mentally preparing your response. “Fine.”

Kate narrowed her eyes. “Fine?”

You nodded. “We didn’t kill each other. That’s a win.”

She stared at you, and you could practically hear her brain doing somersaults. She knew something was wrong. You've never looked so confused.

Kate pulled her legs up onto the couch and faced you fully, expression softening.

“You look… tired,” she finally said, trying to keep her tone light.

“Long day,” you replied simply, brushing it off.

Kate gave you a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “How was the… invitation thing?”

You shrugged. “It’s done.”

There was a pause. You didn’t elaborate. And she didn’t press. You could feel her gaze lingering on you, trying to read something on your face, but you didn’t let her see it. Whatever was still spinning inside you, the strange heaviness, the warmth that shouldn’t have been there, the ghost of Joel Miller’s voice, that was yours. Yours alone.

Kate leaned back with a sigh, folding her arms.

“I know you don’t want to talk about him,” she said softly, “but I just… I need to ask.”

You looked at her, guarded.

“Do you think it’s ever going to change? Between you and Joel?”

You didn’t answer right away. You looked at your hands, picked at a loose thread on your sleeve.

“Some things don’t change,” you said quietly. “Some things just… stay broken.”

Kate’s face twisted, the fight going out of her. She blinked quickly, but it didn’t stop the tears that started forming.

You looked over, guilt blooming in your chest. “Kate…”

“I just wanted it to be perfect,” she whispered. “My wedding. This whole day I’ve been dreaming of since I was a kid. I wanted everyone I love to be there and to be happy and whole.”

“You will have that,” you said firmly, even if your voice shook a little.

She shook her head, wiping her cheeks as the tears finally fell. “Not if you two are at each other’s throats the whole time.”

You stayed quiet, watching her break down in front of you — your strong, soft-hearted sister who tried so hard to keep everyone together.

“I know I sound dramatic,” she laughed bitterly through her tears. “But I don’t want to remember walking down the aisle and seeing you scowling in one corner and Joel brooding in the other.”

You reached out and took her hand. “You won’t. I promise.”

Kate sniffled. “You can’t promise that.”

“I can promise I’ll try,” you said. “I don’t know what he’ll do, but I’ll try. For you.”

That seemed to help — not fix it, not fully, but soften the edges of her sadness. Her grip on your hand tightened.

Kate wiped her cheeks and let out a breathy laugh. “You better try, because if not, I was going to threaten you with the world’s ugliest bridesmaid dress.”

You snorted. “I’d wear it. Just to ruin your photos.”

She gasped in mock offense, then started laughing, a real one this time. You joined her, and for a few minutes, the air was lighter. Less pressure. Less ache.

At least for now.

The bed creaked softly beneath him as he shifted for the third time in five minutes. Joel lay on his back, eyes fixed on the ceiling of his dimly lit bedroom, the moonlight cutting across the room in a cold stripe. The air was still, thick with silence, and yet his mind was unbearably loud.

He’d tried everything. Rolling over. Flipping his pillow. Forcing his thoughts toward patrol routes, inventory lists, anything functional. But no matter what direction he turned, you were there. Like a ghost he hadn’t asked for but couldn’t exorcize.

Your face hovered behind his eyelids. Not angry or sharp the way it often was — but softer. Lit with that rare, fleeting smile you gave Kate. Or the way your head tipped back when you laughed at something that actually caught you off guard. That sound — fuck, that sound — warm and bright like the first day of spring after a brutal winter.

And then there was the way you touched your hair, that unconscious little motion, fingers gliding through it, tucking it behind your ear or sweeping it out of your eyes. You didn’t even know you did it. But Joel did. He’d seen it. Noticed it. Memorized it like a fool.

He pictured you leaning over the table earlier that day, shirt riding up just enough to reveal a strip of bare lower back. His gaze had lingered. Too long. He knew that. He hated that.

Your ass—round, perfect, smug in those tight jeans—had haunted him every time he closed his eyes since.

He shifted again, jaw clenched now, heat starting to pool somewhere low in his belly.

No. No, no, no.

But it was already too late. His body wasn’t asking for permission — it was responding. A twitch of pressure, a slow tightening beneath the waistband of his briefs. His breath caught as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to banish you from his brain.

Didn’t work.

You stayed, and now you were closer — the imagined warmth of your skin, the sound of your voice in his ear, teasing, smug. The tilt of your mouth. The curve of your hips as you stood with one hand on them, rolling your eyes at something he said.

His hand fisted the sheets.

“Goddamn it,” he muttered, voice rough, hoarse with frustration — and something else.

He turned onto his side, dragging the blanket higher, willing his body to calm down. But it wouldn’t. Every time he shut his eyes, there you were — sometimes laughing, sometimes biting your lip, sometimes looking up at him with that fire in your gaze that made him feel like he was being dared to cross a line.

He groaned, low and miserable, rolling onto his back again.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. You were infuriating. You were stubborn, impulsive, mouthy. You didn’t like him. He didn’t like you.

But your voice still echoed in his head, that quiet answer you’d given when you talked about love. It had knocked something loose in him. Something buried. Something he didn’t want to name.

Joel cursed under his breath again and threw an arm over his eyes, as if blocking out the light might also block you. His body was still betraying him — hard now, pulsing and persistent, refusing to let him pretend.

He didn’t know what was happening to him. Why it was happening. Why it was happening, because of you.

He hated you. Every fiber of you. Every sound that came out of your mouth was insufferable, every sentence laced with that arrogant, sarcastic tone that made his blood boil. Your eyes, your posture, your voice, your goddamn presence—he hated it all.

So why the hell is he fucking hard right now? Why couldn’t he stop thinking about you?

Why did the image of your lips slightly parted as you chewed on your bottom one haunt him? Why did the memory of the soft curve of your waist, revealed when your shirt lifted just a little too high the other day, replay in his mind like some sick punishment? Why did he remember the sway of your hips when you walked away from him in irritation, those tight pants hugging your ass so perfectly it should’ve been illegal?

And why did his cock throb every time he let the image linger? It was torture.

He shifted in his bed again, groaning under his breath. Sheets rustled around him, clinging to his sweat-slicked skin.

He closed his eyes. He opened them. He closed them again. You were still there—in his head. Laughing, glaring, rolling your eyes, teasing him with that attitude that made him want to pin you to a wall and shut you up with his mouth.

He threw an arm over his face. Growled.

“Fuckin’ hell…”

Sleep definitely wasn’t coming tonight.

The next morning arrived like a slap in the face.

You were walking through Jackson, hands tucked into your jacket pockets, breathing in the chilled air. The sky was pale and clouded, the usual buzz of early activity around you—a couple of kids running down the path, dogs barking, someone hauling wood nearby.

You were just going to the store. That was it. Simple. In and out. Until your eyes landed on him - on Joel.

He was a little far off, working on a newly constructed cabin. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing thick, sun-kissed forearms, and you watched, breath hitching as his muscles tensed with each swing of the hammer. The way his biceps bulged, like fucking granite, as he brought the tool down with precision and force.

You knew it was wrong, but… your eyes wandered lower. Watching the way his back flexed beneath his shirt, the curve of his ass in those damn jeans, the way his hair bounced slightly with the movement, sticking to his sweaty forehead. The veins in his hands, so prominent, so… masculine, wrapped around the handle of that hammer like it owed him something.

Your stomach twisted. You swallowed hard. Your thighs pressed together. Your panties were… wet. Unmistakably. You could feel it. You were pulsing. And it was because of Joel fucking Miller.

You stared for a moment too long, heart racing, body betraying you in every way it could. Then it hit you like a truck, the embarrassment, the fury.

You tore your gaze away, eyes wide, and stormed forward like your feet could carry you out of your own body.

What the hell was wrong with you? Why were you reacting like this to him? You hated him. He was rude. Cocky. Infuriating. Not even that attractive.

So why the hell was your body acting like it wanted him inside you?

You cursed under your breath. Not at Joel. At yourself.

By the time you entered the store, you were still flustered, heart thudding in your ears. You pushed a cart forward and moved through the aisles like you were on autopilot, scanning for what you needed. Your brain was still somewhere else entirely.

That’s when someone spoke behind you.

“Hey—uh, sorry, do you know which flour’s better for, like, sourdough bread? The brown bag or the white one?”

You blinked and turned around. There was a guy. Kinda cute. Probably around your age. Tall, lean, with soft features and warm eyes. His voice was kind, curious. Not annoying. Not Joel.

You glanced at the two bags in his hands, then pointed to one. “The brown bag’s whole grain. It’s heavier. Depends what you want, but for sourdough? White’s probably safer.”

He smiled. “Thanks. I’m Hank, by the way.”

You nodded, giving a small smile back. “Nice to meet you.”

And that was it. Just… nice.

You continued your shopping, finishing quickly, keeping the interaction in the back of your mind, but it was faint. Not because Hank wasn’t lovely, but because Joel was still in your system like venom.

You paid, stepped outside with your bag in hand, and started the walk home, your mind looping the same awful thought:

Why did your body want the one person your brain wanted to strangle? You had no answer. Just the echo of his name in your head and the heavy, traitorous thrum in your chest.

The sky had long since darkened into a deep navy, the stars peeking shyly through the scattered clouds above Jackson.

Inside your home, it was warm—quiet. A soft amber glow bathed the living room from the single lamp you’d turned on, casting long shadows against the walls.

You were curled up on the couch, wearing nothing but a loose oversized T-shirt that draped just over your hips and a pair of simple cotton panties. Your legs were bare, tucked under you as you sipped from a mug of coffee that had gone lukewarm long ago, but the comfort it offered hadn’t worn off.

The silence was calming, the kind that followed an emotionally messy day. You breathed out softly, your body finally beginning to unwind—until a knock pulled you back into reality.

You didn’t flinch. You assumed, without question, that it was Kate. Probably coming to drop off something or chat about the wedding. So you padded lazily to the door, not thinking twice about how little you were wearing. Your shirt clung to your body slightly, the thin fabric doing little to hide the curve of your breasts or the faint outline of your nipples beneath it. You didn’t care. It was just Kate.

But it wasn’t Kate.

The second the door opened, and you locked eyes with the man standing there, your breath caught. Joel Miller. And he looked stunned.

His eyes scanned you—fast at first, like he knew he shouldn’t—but then slower, more deliberate. They flicked down your body, taking in the exposed skin of your legs, the hem of the shirt barely grazing your thighs. The hard peaks beneath the soft fabric. Your bare feet. Your collarbone. His mouth parted slightly, and for the briefest moment, he forgot whatever the hell he was doing there.

You noticed. You definitely noticed.

Your expression flattened into a scowl as you exhaled, annoyed. “The fuck do you want?”

That snapped him out of it. He blinked, shifting his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other, clearly trying to summon the familiar arrogance that always kept him armored around you.

“Trust me,” he muttered, voice low and gravelly, “I’d rather be anywhere else but here.”

“Great,” you snapped, already pushing the door to shut in his face. But his large, calloused hand caught the wood with ease, pushing it back open like it was nothing.

You glared but didn’t resist. There was no point. You couldn’t overpower Joel Miller, and honestly, you were too tired to try.

“Tommy sent me,” he finally said, voice returning to its usual gruff cadence. “Said we need to go grab some shit from the woods. Decoration stuff. For the wedding.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Why me?”

He shrugged, unapologetic. “Apparently, you’re a woman. Which means you’re supposed to be better at this crap than me.”

You scoffed dramatically, rolling your eyes, and turned to glance at the clock hanging in your living room. “It’s nine-fucking-p.m. Are you stupid?”

“I worked all day,” he bit back, voice edging toward exasperation, though his gaze never left your bare thighs.

You mumbled under your breath, “Yeah. I noticed.” Your eyes flicked down to the floor quickly.

Joel tilted his head. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” you replied with a fake sweet smile, lips curling with venom.

He sighed. “Are you coming or not?”

You knew damn well that if you said no, not only would he keep annoying you, but so would Kate and Tommy, and eventually, you’d cave. So you made the only rational choice—gave a dramatic sigh and stepped back into your house, leaving the door open behind you.

“Wait here,” you muttered over your shoulder.

Joel stepped inside, his boots heavy against your wooden floor. He didn’t say anything. Just took in your space with a kind of silent judgment that felt oddly intimate. It was homey. Clean. Warm. He liked it more than he should’ve.

When you returned a few minutes later, your body was dressed in a black button-up shirt that clung to your figure, paired with tight black jeans that hugged your hips and ass like they were tailor-made. You tossed your hair back and brushed your hand along the wall, grabbing your jacket.

Joel saw you. swallowing hard when he felt the blood in his body rush somewhere it really shouldn’t.

“Let’s go,” you said curtly, pushing past him and stepping out the door. He followed. Silently.

The truck rumbled to life, headlights cutting through the inky black night as Joel pulled out of your driveway. You sat in the passenger seat, arms crossed, gaze fixed out the window.

Silence. Thick silence.

Not the peaceful kind from earlier. This one was charged, buzzing under your skin like static. The air between you crackled with unspoken things, heavy tension that neither of you dared to slice through. Questions, feelings, memories—none of them had names, but they were all there, pressing into the cab of the truck like ghosts refusing to stay dead.

You didn’t look at him. He didn’t look at you. But both of you felt it. Every second ticked by like a countdown to something inevitable. Something neither of you were ready to admit.

The road stretched out endlessly ahead, swallowed by the dark trees on either side. The only sound filling the truck was the steady hum of the engine and the occasional crunch of gravel beneath the tires. You sat with your arms crossed, your body angled slightly toward the window, your gaze locked on the shadows flashing by. The silence was thick. Claustrophobic. And entirely unbearable.

Finally, Joel broke it.

“What’d you do today?”

His voice was neutral. Uninterested, even. He didn’t look at you—kept his eyes on the road, one hand resting lazily on the wheel, the other draped over the armrest. Just a casual question, thrown out into the air like it didn’t mean a damn thing.

You turned your head slowly toward him, an incredulous smirk pulling at your lips. “Really?”

Joel glanced at you once, then again, brows drawing slightly together. “What?”

A laugh burst out of you, short and bitter, as you shook your head in disbelief. “You’re seriously trying to ask me about my day?”

He didn’t respond immediately. You could tell he was debating it. Trying to find a retort that wouldn’t sound weak. But before he could even open his mouth, you beat him to it.

“You don’t even care.”

Your voice was quieter now, almost defeated. You turned your head back toward the window, watching the world blur past, soft shadows and moonlight playing tricks on your vision. For a moment, there was only silence again. Heavy. Tense.

“…I don’t,” Joel finally admitted, his tone dry, “but it’s better than this annoying-ass silence.”

You let the corner of your mouth twitch. The bastard had a point. You let a few seconds pass, then finally gave in.

“I went to the store.”

Joel gave a quiet grunt of acknowledgment, a slight nod that was barely perceptible.

“I met someone. Hank.”

Another grunt. Another nod. But this time… his grip on the steering wheel tightened. Just a little. Barely enough to notice. But you saw the way his forearm flexed, how his fingers wrapped more firmly around the leather. It was subtle. But there. A small flash of something ugly and hot in his chest. Jealousy? No. That couldn’t be. Why the hell would he be jealous?

“Is he cute?” he asked.

You didn’t even hesitate. “Not bad. Might give him my address if I see him again.”

That did it. Joel’s knuckles went white on the wheel, his jaw tightening so hard it ticked. His whole body tensed like a wire pulled too tight.

You knew exactly what you were doing. And you liked the reaction a little more than you should have.

“What about you?” you asked, voice suddenly lighter, almost teasing. “Meet any girls today?”

“Huh?” Joel glanced over at you quickly before looking back at the road.

“Come on, you know… did you meet someone new? Maybe someone young and smiley and way too optimistic for her own good?”

Joel let out a huff of air—half a laugh, half a scoff. “Not into that crap.”

“Not into what? Dating?”

He gave a slow nod. “Yeah. Who the hell would date a grumpy old bastard like me?”

Your eyes met for a second too long. And something in your chest… shifted. He didn’t say it like a joke. He wasn’t fishing for pity. He was just being honest. And you saw it, really saw it, in his expression. That quiet loneliness that clung to him like a shadow he didn’t know how to shake.

“Don’t be stupid,” you muttered. “I’m sure someone would.”

You weren’t sure why you said it. It came out before you could stop it. Before you could build your usual wall of sarcasm and spite.

Joel’s mouth twitched bitterly. “Wish I was as naïve as you.”

And god, you hated how that made you feel. That burning in your throat. The aching behind your ribs. He was so frustrating, so guarded, so closed off—but in moments like this, you could almost feel how much it cost him to let anything through.

You wanted to hug him. You wouldn’t, of course. But you wanted to.

Joel pulled the truck to a slow stop, the gravel crunching under the tires as the headlights hit a clearing at the edge of the woods. “We’re here,” he muttered, already pushing open his door without a second glance.

You followed a few seconds later, slamming the passenger door a bit too hard and catching up with him.

“So,” you asked as you reached his side, “what exactly are we looking for?”

“Shit for the wedding. Kate wants it to be all… nature-themed or whatever. So twigs, berries, moss, mushrooms. Forest crap.”

You arched a brow. “Romantic.”

Joel didn’t reply. He just handed you a small burlap sack and started heading deeper into the woods, boots crunching over fallen leaves. You walked with him in silence, collecting whatever looked remotely wedding-appropriate. The air was damp and smelled like earth. Leaves brushed against your ankles. Moonlight filtered through the branches in silvery streaks.

Then, suddenly—snap. The sharp crack of a stick breaking echoed nearby. Joel froze. His body went rigid, hand instinctively reaching for his pistol. In a second, the weapon was drawn, held steady, and aimed at the darkness beyond the trees.

You jumped, stumbling back a step and grabbing onto Joel’s arm without thinking. “Shit—what was that?”

“Do you have a gun?” he asked, eyes scanning the shadows.

“Do I look like I have a gun?!”

You moved closer to him, practically hiding behind his solid frame. Your heart was thudding like crazy, adrenaline crawling under your skin.

Joel didn’t move for a long beat, waiting. Watching. But nothing came. Just the wind brushing through the leaves and the chirp of a distant bird. Slowly, he lowered the gun.

“Probably just an animal,” he muttered, but you saw the way his shoulders remained tense. Still alert. Still ready. After a few more seconds, he glanced back at you. “You ever even held a gun?”

You raised a brow. “Do I look like I have?”

Joel sighed heavily and handed you his pistol. “Here.”

You stared at it like he’d just handed you a live snake. “What the hell am I supposed to do with this?”

“Aim,” he said flatly, giving you the simplest instruction imaginable.

You blinked at him. “Come again?”

He didn’t repeat it. Just raised an eyebrow. His expression said don’t argue. So you tried. Kind of. You awkwardly lifted the gun with both hands, your arms stiff, elbows out, your grip all wrong.

Joel let out the most exhausted sigh you’d ever heard, rubbing a hand down his face. “Jesus.”

He took the pistol back, turned it in his hands, and then showed you how to hold it properly.

Feet apart. Elbows relaxed. Grip tight but not too tight. Then he placed the gun back into your hands and watched you. But even so, you were still holding the gun wrong.

Your hands were trembling. Not much, but enough that he noticed. Enough that you noticed. The gun felt heavy, unnatural. Like it didn’t belong in your hands. Joel sighed.

He stepped behind you. Closer than he ever had before. You could feel the heat of his body pressing along your back, his chest brushing against your shoulder blades, his breath — warm and unfiltered — ghosting across the curve of your neck.

Then came his hands.

Big. Rough. Calloused. They slid over yours like they’d been made to fit there — palms swallowing yours completely, fingers curling around the outside of your own to adjust your grip. His thumbs pressed down gently, firmly guiding you, correcting you. You couldn’t breathe. You didn’t breathe.

His beard scraped softly against the edge of your cheek as he leaned in closer. His voice was low, almost a whisper. “Like this. Keep your elbows down. You’re stiff as a damn board.”

You didn’t hear the words.

You just heard him. The low rumble in his chest. The scent of him — cedar, sweat, something smoky and old and undeniably male. The warmth of his body pressed against yours in the cold woods.

And something inside you snapped. Or maybe it awakened.

A pulse flickered deep in your lower belly. Then it dropped lower. Heat bloomed between your thighs, a slow, aching throb that made your breath hitch and your knees feel just a little weaker. You clenched without meaning to — your muscles tightening instinctively, reflexively — and you felt it in your underwear. The wetness. Already.

Fuck.

Your face was on fire. You were sure of it. Your cheeks burned, your ears burned, even the back of your neck was hot — but you didn’t move. Couldn’t move. Because if you did, you’d have to step away from him. And you didn’t want to.

Your heart was hammering inside your chest, pounding against your ribs like it wanted to get out. Your thoughts were chaotic, messy, breathless, spinning.

And when he adjusted your fingers again, his thumb grazing along the sensitive skin between your thumb and forefinger, you couldn’t help the tiny sound that escaped your throat — a breathy, almost inaudible gasp.

Your skin was soft. Warm. He could smell your shampoo, something faint and floral that made him want to bury his face in your neck. He tried to focus on your stance, on the gun, on anything except the way your ass pressed back slightly against his hips, or the tiny hitch in your breath, or the fact that he could feel your pulse through your wrist.

His cock twitched.

The heat spread through him fast — like gasoline catching flame. His hands were supposed to be steady, but they started to shake. Just a little. His jaw clenched. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from your cheek, the curve of your jaw, the way your lips were slightly parted. You looked flustered. Flushed. He saw your chest rising and falling faster than before.

And he felt it.

Your body stiffening. That subtle shift of your hips. That soft, barely audible sound that slipped from your throat.

Jesus fucking Christ.

You were turned on. And now he couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. All he could do was stare at the back of your neck and fight the overwhelming urge to bend his head down and press his mouth there. To see if you’d make that sound again, louder this time.

His cock was already hard. Thick and aching behind his jeans, pressing against the inside of his thigh. And all because of you. Because of the way your body felt under his hands. Because of the way you smelled. Because of that little gasp.

He had to pull away. Now. Before he did something really fucking stupid. But his hands didn’t move. They wouldn’t move.

Instead, he lowered his voice again, leaning closer, his lips grazing your ear.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Just like that. You’re doin’ good.”

Your body shivered. And Joel knew, with complete, devastating certainty, that he was royally, irreversibly fucked.

You turned around slowly, pulse loud in your ears, breath caught somewhere between your ribs and your throat.

His face was so close you could feel the heat radiating off his skin. Your noses almost brushed. The small space between you felt volatile, like a match hovering over gasoline.

His eyes met yours and you swore time folded in on itself. Everything narrowed down to that one unbearable moment of stillness, your shared breath, the roughness of his exhale fanning across your cheek, his scent laced with sweat and cedar and tension.

You weren’t breathing. You didn’t want to. You wanted to stay right there, suspended in the heaviness of that electric, untouchable almost.

And just when you swore he might tilt his head that tiny bit to close the distance, crack. A branch snapped not far from where you stood.

Joel moved instantly, instinctively. He stepped in front of you, arm extended protectively as his eyes scanned the trees.

Your chest rose and fell, rapidly now, the illusion shattered but the heat still simmering under your skin.

He didn’t look at you when he spoke. “We’re done here,” he said, his voice gravelly, low, but tight. “Let’s go. Ain’t smart to be out here after dark.”

You nodded, mute. There was nothing to say. You followed him through the trees, the pressure in your chest still coiled tight like a loaded spring.

The silence in the truck was worse than the previous drive into the woods. Neither of you said a word. You didn’t even try. The memory of his hands on yours haunted your skin. The way his body pressed behind you. The way he felt. The way your body had responded.

You shifted in your seat, thighs pressing together, breath shaky. From the corner of your eye, you saw his grip tighten on the wheel.

He was thinking about it too. You knew it. You felt it. Like the air between you still crackled with something unnamed and unbearable.

When he pulled up in front of your house, the engine idling, you turned your head to him.

“Thanks,” you said, voice barely audible. He didn’t look at you. Just nodded once.

You got out quickly, afraid your legs might give out if you didn’t move fast. Your fists were clenched as you stormed into your house and slammed the door behind you.

Joel watched until the porch light flicked on. Then he drove off. He had to.

Because if he didn’t leave right now, if he stayed even a second longer in that truck with the memory of your body pressed into his and your eyes looking at him like that, he wouldn’t be able to think. He wouldn’t be able to stop himself.

And he sure as hell wouldn’t be able to hide the growing ache in his jeans.

The next morning came like a slap. You didn’t sleep much. Every time you closed your eyes, your mind dragged you back to the woods. His breath. His voice. That moment.

You sat now on a little wooden stool, knees tucked under you, watching Kate twirl in front of the mirror in a champagne-colored dress.

“What do you think?” she asked, holding the fabric out by her sides like she was floating.

You smiled. Or at least you tried to.

“It’s perfect,” you said.

And it was—for her. It hugged her curves beautifully, made her look like a springtime goddess. She looked happy. Radiant.

You wanted to be happy with her. But you couldn’t stop thinking about Joel. You couldn’t stop thinking about his voice low in your ear. His hands gripping yours like they belonged there.

The way he pressed into your back, firm and controlled, but just barely. You swallowed hard, shifting on the stool. Your thighs pressed together and stayed there. Your fingers dug into your own knees.

God, what would it be like if he said things like that in a bed? His voice rough, that little growl he did in his throat when he was trying not to let something slip.

“That's it,” he’d say again, but slower this time, with your legs around his waist. His hand around your neck. His body heavy over yours. His—

“Hey?” Kate’s voice broke straight through your filthy mind like a cold slap of water. Your head snapped up. She was watching you in the mirror, a little frown on her face.

“You okay? You zoned out like… hard.”

You blinked. Forced a laugh. “I’m fine. Just tired, I think.”

Kate turned toward you, dress swishing with her. “You sure? You look kinda pale.”

You smiled again. “I’m good. Promise.”

She squinted for a second longer, then let it go. “Okay. Well, you better wake up before tonight. Everyone’s gonna be at the bar. You are coming, right?”

You hesitated. “I don’t know, Katie…”

“Don’t you dare bail on me,” she said, walking over and poking you square in the forehead. “It’s my last free Saturday before wedding chaos hits full force. You’re coming. No excuses.”

You sighed, lips pressed together. “Fine. I’ll go. For you.”

“Damn right it’s for me,” she grinned, turning back to the mirror, completely unaware of the storm behind your eyes.

Because she had no idea that the only thing keeping you from vibrating out of your skin was the image of her future brother-in-law. His voice, his hands, the pressure of him against your back, his body between your thighs, his cock filling you as he growled against your neck—

You clenched your fists again. You were not okay. And tonight, you were about to walk into a room full of people, awesome.

The bar buzzed with life. Music pulsed in waves from the overhead speakers, something upbeat and forgettable, and people swayed and shouted and laughed, glasses clinking against each other, beer sloshing onto tables and sticky wooden floors.

You were perched on a high stool at the edge of the chaos, your drink half full and your nerves stretched thin.

You’d let Kate drag you here. You hadn’t wanted to come. But the smile on her face as she danced in a small circle with her friends made it all worth it. You were here for her.

But even now, even under the dim golden lights and the noise, your mind flickered like static back to the woods. Joel’s hands. Joel’s breath. Joel’s words. Your thighs pressed together. You took a bigger sip of your drink.

“Thought that was you,” a familiar voice said behind you. You turned and saw him, Hank. That cute guy from the store. You almost forget about him, because your mind is currently full of Miller.

“Hank,” you said, forcing a tight smile, trying to hide your overthinking and zoning out every five second.

He held a drink in each hand, his leather jacket unzipped just enough to show the collar of some aggressively loud shirt underneath.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here,” he said, sliding onto the stool next to you without asking.

“Yeah… my sister dragged me out.”

“Ah,” Hank chuckled. “Lucky for me.” He slid one of the glasses toward you. Whiskey. Neat. You nodded politely. “Thanks.”

You didn’t ask for it, but you took a sip. Because refusing would be more exhausting than drinking.

Hank talked, mostly about himself. Occasionally he asked you a question, but he never waited for the answer before launching into another story. Still, it was noise. Noise was good. Noise kept you out of your head.

“You’re quiet,” Hank said, tilting his head. “You mad at me?”

You blinked back to the present.

“No,” you said quickly. “Just… tired.”

He smiled. “You need to loosen up.”

You tried to smile back. But then his hand landed on your thigh. It wasn’t casual. It was deliberate. Heavy. You froze. Your pulse quickened.

You shifted, a small movement—polite, non-threatening, clear. But he didn’t move his hand.

Instead, he leaned in closer, the alcohol on his breath making your stomach twist.

“You look so fuckin’ good tonight,” he murmured, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Bet you feel good too.”

You jerked back. “Hank, don’t—”

He grabbed your wrist, quick and tight, and leaned in.

“Relax, sweetheart. We’re just talkin’.”

“No,” you said, firmer now. “Let go.”

His expression changed. Gone was the charm. What replaced it was flat. Cold.

“You wanna cause a scene?” he whispered.

And then you felt it. Something cold and sharp pressing against your ribs. Your eyes snapped down.

A knife. Small, dirty, folded out from a pocket tool. But real. Panic bloomed in your chest like poison.

“Let’s go,” Hank whispered, teeth clenched in a smile. “Now.”

You nodded. What else could you do?

He guided you off the stool, the knife barely brushing your side as a constant reminder. No one noticed. No one cared. The music was too loud. The lights too low.

He steered you toward the back of the bar, toward the restrooms.

Your heart thundered. Your stomach churned. You were already running through what you’d say, what you’d do, how you’d get out—

“Let her go.”

The voice split through the air like a shotgun. You turned, Hank right after you.

And there he was, your savior. Joel.

Shoulders squared, jaw clenched, eyes black with rage. His hand hovering near the holster on his hip. Not on his gun, at least, not yet.

Hank laughed. “C’mon, dude. We’re just talking.”

“I said let. her. go.”

He stepped closer. Each footfall was silent but devastating, like the pressure drop before a tornado hits. His voice had lowered now, dangerously calm.

Your breath caught. You didn’t even realize tears had formed in your eyes until you blinked and they fell.

Hank looked between you and Joel. He weighed his chances. And then, he shoved you.

You stumbled back—but before Hank could bolt, Joel moved. One hand slammed the knife out of Hank’s grip, sent it skittering across the floor.

The other grabbed the front of his jacket and shoved him into the wall so hard the drywall cracked behind him.

“You ever touch her again,” Joel growled, face inches from his, “I’ll break both your fuckin’ arms. And that’ll be merciful.”

Hank didn’t speak, didn't fight, didn't move. He was shaking, his eyes wide open like he just saw a ghost. He was so fucking scared.

Joel dropped him with a final shove and turned toward you, chest rising and falling fast. You stood there frozen, still shaking, tears streaking your cheeks now.

“Hey,” he said softly, all that rage melting into something gentler. “You alright?”

You nodded quickly. He stepped closer, slowly, as if approaching a scared animal. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”

You followed him without thinking. Out into the night. Into the truck. The door shut behind you, and silence filled the cab.

But this silence wasn’t awkward. It was heavy. Comforting. You let out a shaky breath and leaned back against the seat.

Joel didn’t speak. He just drove, his hand occasionally flexing on the wheel like he still hadn’t shaken off what he’d just done.

When the truck rolled to a stop in front of your house, you reached for the handle, but something in your chest seized. You looked over at him.

“Do you wanna come in?” you asked softly. “I… I could make some coffee. As a thank you.”

Joel hesitated. You saw it all over his face. His jaw flexed, his throat bobbed. He shouldn’t go. He knew he shouldn’t. But his eyes dropped to your lips. Just for a second, and that was enough for him to decide.

“…Yeah,” he said, voice rough. “Alright.”

You unlock the door with slightly trembling fingers, the echo of the evening still buzzing in your bones. Joel follows close behind, silent but solid, like some kind of ghost who bled warmth instead of cold.

“Make yourself comfortable,” you say softly, stepping inside and beginning to shrug off your jacket.

Joel doesn’t speak. He just nods and quietly peels off his own coat, hanging it neatly by the door. You move through the familiar space of your kitchen, the air oddly still. Behind you, you hear the chair scrape softly against the floor as he sits down at the small table.

Joel's eyes were glued on you, burning through your clothes, lingering on the curve of your spine, the swing of your hips. It’s not like before. It’s different. Hungrier.

You reach for the coffee tin without looking at him. You know exactly what kind of coffee he likes.

Which is stupid. Because this is Joel. The man you were supposed to despise. And yet here you are, pouring the water, adding just the right amount of grounds, without needing to ask a damn thing.

The silence wraps around the room, thick and buzzing with the unsaid. You can feel him watching your every move. When the coffee’s ready, you grab two mugs, pour them evenly, and walk over to him.

You set his mug down, sitting across from him, your fingers wrapping around the warmth of the ceramic. You both take the first sip in tandem. Then, quiet. The kind that presses in, like fog.

Finally, you speak. You felt like you have to, after being saved. After practically everything.

“Thanks for earlier,” you murmur, your voice a little raw. “That was… Hank.”

Joel’s jaw shifts slightly. His eyes darken. “Figured.”

You let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Didn’t think he’d be that type.”

He leans back a little, cradling the mug in one hand. “A lot of men like him are out there. Even now. You give ‘em power, they use it to corner someone weaker.”

The words sit between you, bitter like the coffee on your tongue. You nod, slowly. “How’d you even see me? No one else noticed.”

You watch the flicker of hesitation pass behind his eyes, the clench in his jaw. “I just… saw you.”

You raise an eyebrow. “In that whole crowd?”

He meets your gaze, lips twitching slightly. “What can I say? You kinda stand out.”

You smirk, mock-offended. “Was it my clothes or the way I awkwardly clung to the wall?”

He huffs a quiet laugh. “Bit of both.”

You both chuckle, and something shifts. The ice melts. The air gets warmer. It’s not like before. It’s lighter, easier, safer.

Joel finishes his coffee, setting the mug down gently. “I should get outta here. You’ve had one hell of a night.”

You nod, standing with him. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

But as you turn to lead him out, your sock catches on the edge of the rug and your balance tips.

“Shit—!”

You stumble forward, instinctively reaching out, but Joel is already there—his arms snapping around you, pulling you tightly against him.

Your chest slams into his, and his hands steady you, one firm on your waist, the other wrapped just under your ribs.

You’re both laughing at first. A light, breathy kind of laugh, like the end of a good joke. But then you look up at him. And suddenly, it’s not funny anymore.

His face is so close. Again. Like in the woods.

Your noses almost touch. His breath brushes your cheek. One of his hands tightens slightly on your hip, grounding you. His other hand firm against your back, your palms flat against his chest.

You looked up into his eyes, and for a moment, nothing else in the world existed. Just the two of you, breathing the same charged air, close enough to feel the heat rolling off each other. You didn’t know if it was a good idea. Hell, it probably wasn’t. This would ruin everything. Complicate the wedding. Complicate Jackson. Complicate… him. You.

But you didn’t move. Neither did he.

His eyes kept dropping, from your eyes to your lips, back up again, then down. Every time he looked at your mouth, it felt like fire ran through your veins. His thumb brushed along your spine like he was grounding himself, and you swore your knees nearly gave out from just that.

Then, like something broke inside him, he kissed you.

It was sudden, deep, and full of something too big for either of you to name. It wasn’t soft, not really. It was controlled. His mouth moved against yours like he was trying to remember how to be careful. But the second he felt you lean into it, tilt your head and let out that quiet, needful sound from the back of your throat, he was done.

He pulled back just a fraction, like he was afraid to have gone too far. Like he was waiting for you to push him away.

But instead, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and yanked him back in like a wild thing that had been starving for this. Your lips crashed into his and there was no more hesitation, no more thinking.

Only need.

The kiss turned feverish — teeth, tongues, breathless groans swallowed between your mouths. His hands were everywhere — gripping your waist, sliding under the hem of your shirt, fingers pressing into your skin like he needed to memorize every inch.

You couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to. Your body was reacting like it had waited a lifetime for this. You were pressed up against him, feeling the hardness straining against his jeans, the way his hips rolled into yours with unconscious desperation.

Somehow, you stumbled backwards through the hallway, bumping into walls, laughing through your gasps and moans as he kissed your neck, your jaw, your mouth again. His hands slid down your thighs and lifted you up like you weighed nothing, your legs wrapping around his waist.

His mouth never left yours, the kissing is harder now—urgent, uneven. The hallway dimly lit by the golden hue of a single lamp in your kitchen blurred behind you as he carried you toward your bedroom.

Your fingers twisted into the collar of his shirt, knuckles white, and his breath hitched when your teeth grazed his bottom lip. His hips pressed into you as you gasped softly into his mouth, your thighs squeezing around him. The friction made your body jolt with a pulse of heat that spread through your stomach like wildfire.

He kicked the door to your room open, then brought you down to the bed. Not gently. Not softly. There was no time for that.

Your bodies hit the mattress with a thud, your hair splaying out beneath you like a dark halo. He hovered above you for just a second, both of you panting, eyes locked, your chests rising and falling in unison. Then his hands were on you again—rough, wide palms pushing under your shirt, dragging it up. His touch was everywhere. Greedy. Desperate.

You sat up to help him, tearing the shirt over your head and tossing it somewhere behind you. Joel’s gaze dropped to your chest, dark and feral, his breath catching hard as if he’d just been punched in the stomach. His hands, already trembling slightly, moved with surprising reverence as he reached behind you to unclasp your bra.

It slid down your arms slowly, and the moment your chest was bare, Joel exhaled shakily like he was in physical pain. Like he’d been imagining this for far too long. He didn’t say anything, didn’t need to. His expression was torn between reverence and hunger. You watched his throat bob as he swallowed thickly.

Then, his hands came up to cup you.

They were big, calloused, and the contrast of his roughness against the softness of your skin made you shudder. He traced the curves with his thumbs, gentle at first, then firmer when he saw how your body arched into his touch. Your breath caught again, a small, sharp sound that broke the silence like a dropped glass.

Joel leaned in, lips parting as he pressed his mouth to the swell of one breast, then to your nipple, hot, wet, insistent. Your head fell back with a whimper as his mouth worked in slow, teasing circles. His hand kneaded the other breast, his thumb flicking expertly, rhythmically, and your legs began to shift restlessly beneath him.

Your fingers found his hair, tugging.

Not to stop him, to beg for more. The sensation was overwhelming, grounding and floating you at the same time. He groaned low into your skin, and you felt the sound vibrate through your ribs, down your spine. Your hips lifted off the bed involuntarily, searching for contact, for pressure, for anything.

Joel paused only to look up at you—his lips shiny, his expression undone. You couldn’t breathe. He looked like sin, and you wanted to drown in it. His hand slid down your side slowly, possessively, as if mapping you. Memorizing you.

With a firm but gentle hand, he urges you backward until your spine meets the mattress. You obey without protest, eyes locked on his, heart thundering in your chest. He follows you down, hovering above you, and then he’s on you again, his mouth returning to your chest, latching onto a sensitive nipple like he’s starving for it.

His tongue swirls, wet and deliberate, flicking over the peak until you whimper. Then he sucks, slow and deep, and your back arches as pleasure shoots through you like a live wire.

“Good girl,” he murmurs against your skin, voice gravelly and full of reverence. “So fuckin’ sweet.”

Your thighs press together as heat pools between them. You can barely focus, your hands fisting into the sheets as he alternates between each breast—suckling, kissing, grazing them with the barest edge of his teeth. Every touch makes you writhe, your body hypersensitive, your breath short.

You moan his name, barely a whisper, and he growls softly in response. His lips are warm, skilled, knowing. There’s nothing rushed in his worship; he’s savoring every second, and it drives you wild.

Eventually, his mouth releases you, leaving your skin damp and flushed. But he doesn’t move far—only lower, lower still, lips grazing a path down your torso. He leaves a kiss beneath your ribs, then another just below your navel. Each one sets off sparks in your belly. Your breath hitches as he pauses, right above the hem of your panties.

He glances up, eyes catching yours. “You want this?”

Your nod is immediate, shaky. “Yes.”

He hooks his fingers beneath the fabric of your panties, dragging them down your thighs with excruciating slowness. As he slips them off, he holds your gaze, and then he brings the panties to his lips, kisses the damp center, and tucks them into his back pocket with a smug glint in his eye.

And then he lowers his head again.

You barely have time to process before his mouth is on you—warm, wet, divine. His tongue dips between your folds, exploring you with devastating thoroughness. He licks a slow stripe up your slit, groaning against you like he’s the one being pleasured.

His tongue is rough, textured, dragging deliciously across your most sensitive parts. Every flick, every swirl, every subtle change in rhythm makes your hips lift off the bed, your thighs trembling around his head.

He moans into you like you taste like salvation. One of his hands pins your hip down gently, the other resting on your thigh, keeping you open for him.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes between licks, “you’re drippin’. So damn perfect.”

Your hands fly to his hair, fingers threading through the strands, anchoring yourself as your body threatens to unravel. Every sound you make, every twitch and gasp, seems to fuel him. He buries his face deeper, devouring you like he’s memorizing the way you taste, the way you tremble.

And god, you can’t stop moaning—his name, half-formed pleas, incoherent gasps. You can’t think. All you can do is feel.

You’re flushed, your legs shaking, your chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. He slides his tongue over your clit, slow and firm, circling it in ways that make your toes curl.

His mind is a mess of craving and possessiveness. He wants to make you come on his tongue, over and over, until you forget anyone but him has ever touched you. You can feel it in every movement, every low sound he makes against you—he’s not just giving you pleasure. He’s claiming you.

The pressure builds fast and fierce, and your thighs clamp tighter around his head. He doesn’t stop. He just groans into your heat, sending vibrations through you that make you cry out, teetering right on the edge.

And just before you fall, he pulls back slightly, eyes glazed with lust, lips glistening.

“You gonna come for me, sweetheart?” he whispers.

“Yes—Joel, please—”

He just smiled devilishly, before his mouth is on you again, relentless. And you break. Your orgasm slams into you like a wave crashing over your body. It’s not soft or sweet—it’s violent, intense, a full-body convulsion that steals your breath and bends your spine off the mattress.

Your mouth opens in a scream, but all that comes out is a strangled moan, broken and raw. Your thighs tighten around Joel’s head, trembling uncontrollably, and your fingers yank at his hair as if anchoring yourself to reality.

The pleasure rips through your core in sharp, overwhelming pulses. Each one sends another shock down your spine, through your arms, your legs, your fingertips. Your vision whitens at the edges. You can’t hear anything but the pounding of your own heart, your ragged gasps, and the obscene wet sounds of his mouth still working you through every last wave.

Joel groans like a man starved, like you are the only thing that’s ever mattered. He doesn’t stop until you’re whimpering from overstimulation, your whole body twitching beneath him. When he finally pulls back, his beard is damp, his lips swollen and slick, his chest heaving.

“Jesus,” he mutters, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes glued to you. “You’re fuckin’ beautiful when you come.”

Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your pulse thudding in your ears. The room tilts a little as you try to breathe through the aftershocks. Everything feels too much, your skin is flushed and hypersensitive, your muscles limp and tingling. You can barely keep your eyes open.

“Joel…” you whisper, dazed. You blink up at him just in time to see his hands at his belt. He unbuckles it slowly, eyes locked on yours the entire time, like he’s daring you to look away.

You don’t.

The sound of the leather sliding free is sinful—low, threatening, full of promise. He lets it fall to the floor with a soft thud, then pops the button of his jeans and drags the zipper down.

You watch, helpless to do anything else. He’s broad, powerful, and glowing with heat—shoulders wide, stomach lined with a thick trail of hair that disappears beneath the waistband he’s tugging down. His cock springs free, thick, flushed, already leaking, and your mouth waters just looking at him.

But he’s not done.

He shrugs off his shirt slowly, working each button free with frustrating patience. And when he peels the fabric off his shoulders and tosses it aside, you nearly forget how to breathe.

All muscle and scars and raw masculinity. His chest is dusted with dark hair, his abdomen hard and sculpted, veins visible on his forearms as he braces himself above you. There’s a faint sheen of sweat on his skin, making every dip and ridge of his body gleam under the soft light.

You stare, dazed and aching, lips parted as your eyes trace every inch of him.

“Like what you see?” he asks, voice rough, almost teasing, but there’s a strain there. He’s barely holding it together. You nod, unable to speak.

And he smirks, just a little, before leaning down to kiss you again, the heat of his bare skin pressing against yours. Then, he crawled up your body, eyes dark, jaw clenched. His control is fraying, shredded to the edge. You can see it in the way his arms tremble slightly, in how fast he’s breathing.

“I can’t wait anymore,” he growls, forehead pressed to yours. “I need to be inside you. Now.”

You nod frantically, legs already parting for him.

He doesn’t even bother with teasing. He just grabs himself. Thick, hard, flushed at the tip, and guides his cock between your thighs, rubbing the head slowly through your slick folds. He groans at the contact, voice shaking.

“Fuck… You’re so wet for me.”

And then, he pushes in. The stretch is unreal. You gasp, eyes flying open as he sinks into you inch by inch. He’s thick, hot, and pulsing with need. Your walls clench around him automatically, your nails digging into his back as he slowly pushes deeper.

“Jesus Christ,” he hisses, every muscle in his body rigid. “You feel like heaven.”

The sensation is overwhelming. Your body tries to adjust, but he’s so big, so deep already. You bite your lip, crying out when he bottoms out, pelvis pressing flush against yours.

You’re full. Stuffed. You feel every vein, every twitch of him inside you.

Joel doesn’t move at first, just leans over you, forearms braced on either side of your head, chest heaving as he fights to keep control. His forehead rests against yours, sweat starting to gather at his temples.

“You okay?” he murmurs.

You nod, breathless. “Yeah. Please—Joel, move.”

That’s all he needs. He starts slow—long, deep thrusts that make your breath stutter, your nails dig into his skin. The sounds of your bodies fill the room: skin against skin, your wetness coating him with every stroke, the soft gasp and grunt of every movement.

But it doesn’t stay slow for long.

Joel groans low in his throat and suddenly snaps his hips forward—hard. You yelp, eyes rolling back. He does it again. And again. Then he loses the last of his restraint.

He fucks you hard, fast, mercilessly. The rhythm ruthless, pounding into you so deep your legs shake around his waist. The bed creaks beneath you, the headboard knocking softly against the wall, but you barely register it.

You can only feel him—his cock driving into you with unrelenting force, your pussy clenching with every thrust.

His grip on your hips tightens, bruising. He watches your face twist with pleasure, your mouth open in gasps and cries, your fingers clawing at his shoulders.

“That’s it,” he pants, voice hoarse. “Take it. Just like that. Good fuckin’ girl.”

You can barely form words. Your mind is gone, wrecked, your entire world narrowed to the feeling of him inside you—stretching, filling, owning every part of you.

He leans down, capturing your mouth again, and fucks you so hard you feel like you’re going to shatter around him.

Then, he pulls out slowly, just for a second, only to flip you onto your stomach.

You barely register the motion before his hands are on your hips, strong and commanding, dragging your ass up until you’re on your knees, chest still against the mattress.

You whimper at the loss of him, but then he’s there again—his cock thick and hot as he drags it through your slick folds from behind.

“Joel—” you breathe, barely able to form the word.

“I can't hold back,” he mutters, voice like gravel. “Need you. Need this.”

He thrusts back into you with no warning, making you scream into the sheets.

He’s so deep, so thick, the angle making it feel impossibly intense, like he’s splitting you open all over again.

Your arms give out, your face pressing into the mattress as he starts to move. And it’s brutal. No finesse, no patience. Just raw, driving thrusts that shake your whole body.

He’s fucking you like a man possessed. Like he’s trying to bury himself so deep you’ll never forget the shape of him. You won’t.

His grip on your hips is bruising, fingertips digging into your flesh as he slams into you again and again. Your skin stings, your scalp prickles—until suddenly, he grabs a handful of your hair, yanks your head back, and you sob at the mix of pain and pleasure.

“You take it so fuckin’ well,” he growls behind you, breath hot against your ear. “You were made for me.”

Tears spill from your eyes, uncontrollably, shamelessly. From the intensity, from the feeling of being completely and utterly taken. Your body can’t keep up. You’re trembling, overwhelmed, moaning brokenly as every thrust punches another cry from your throat.

He leans over you, rutting into you deeper now, rougher. His chest presses against your back, one arm wrapping around your waist to keep you pinned in place while the other stays tangled in your hair.

You feel yourself spiraling again, your second orgasm rising so fast it almost hurts. Your vision blurs, the mattress soaked with your tears as you sob, “Joel, please, I’m—God—I’m gonna—”

“I know, baby,” he pants into your neck. “Come for me. Wanna feel you fall apart.”

It tears through you like lightning, your body locking up before shattering into trembling convulsions. You scream—loud, raw, broken—back arching hard against him. You’re gushing, pulsing around him, your slick flooding down your thighs as your body clenches around his cock.

You’re sobbing, half-coherent, and Joel curses—low and wrecked.

“Fuck—fuck—you’re squeezin’ me so goddamn tight—”

He’s close. You can feel it in the way he moves, the frantic pace, the desperation in every thrust.

Then his hips stutter. He growls your name like a curse and slams into you one final time, burying himself to the hilt as he comes.

It’s not soft—it’s violent. His entire body shudders behind you, his hands gripping you like you’re the only solid thing keeping him grounded. You can feel the heat of him spilling inside you, filling you up as he lets out a low, strangled moan against your skin.

You both collapse.

Joel slumps over your back, breathing hard, his body heavy and trembling with aftershocks. Your legs are jelly, your vision blurry with tears and sweat, your heart pounding against the mattress like it’s trying to break free.

Everything’s quiet, except for your breathing, your sobs slowly calming, and the soft curses Joel whispers as he presses his lips to your shoulder, over and over again. His body still draped over yours, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. You can feel his heartbeat pounding against your back, can feel the way his arms tighten around your waist as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

Eventually, he shifts—pulls out of you gently, muttering something soft against your shoulder that you can’t quite make out. You’re too dazed, too shattered, your limbs heavy and slow like you’ve been drugged. He disappears for a moment.

You barely lift your head when he returns with a towel. Joel doesn’t say a word. He just nudges your legs apart, cleans you carefully, almost reverently.

His touch is gentle, surprisingly so. No roughness, no urgency. Just patient, quiet care. He wipes between your thighs, along your trembling skin, and when you flinch from sensitivity, he whispers, “Shh, I got you,” like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You don’t look at him. You can’t.

Once he’s done, he tosses the towel aside and pulls the blanket up over both of you. You barely notice him crawling in beside you until you feel the weight of his arm wrap around your waist, tugging you back into his chest.

Your eyelids are heavy.

Your body is sore, humming with satisfaction and confusion and something dangerously close to contentment. His warmth seeps into your spine, his breath soft at the nape of your neck. You think he might kiss your shoulder again, but he doesn’t. He just holds you, skin to skin, until you drift off to sleep in his arms.

It’s been three days.

Three days since you let Joel Miller into your home. Three days since you let him see you—all of you. Three days since he touched you like you were something sacred and ruined you all at once.

Tomorrow, your sister’s getting married. Tomorrow, she becomes a Miller. But tonight… tonight is the last night she’ll fall asleep with your name still matching hers.

And all you can think about is him.

Not the ceremony. Not the dress. Not the decorations you spent hours picking out.

Only him. Only that night.

The taste of his mouth. The feel of his body. The way he said your name like a prayer and a curse all at once.

It should’ve been nothing. A mistake. A one-time moment of insanity. You could’ve stopped it. Should’ve. But you didn’t. You let him in. You invited the devil to your doorstep, and you didn’t slam the door in his face.

You let him fuck you like you meant something. And worse—you liked it. You hate yourself for that. Because now? Now you can’t even look at him.

He tries. You see it. A polite nod, a soft “hey,” a wave from across the street. You ignore it all. You keep your eyes down. Pretend not to hear him. Pretend he doesn’t exist—because if you don’t, if you let yourself remember even a second of what happened that night, your chest might split open.

He saw you. Really saw you. And he did things to you no one’s ever done before. Things you didn’t know you wanted, let alone needed.

And now… he’s just walking around Jackson like nothing happened. Like he’s fine.

But you’re not.

You’re a mess. A storm barely contained behind a polite smile. Because every time you shut your eyes, he’s there. That mouth. Those hands. That voice in your ear whispering “good girl” as you came around his tongue.

What the hell were you thinking?

Sleeping with your sister’s future brother-in-law? With your enemy? It sounds like a sick joke. A bad decision spun wildly out of control. And the worst part? You’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.

You should’ve said no.

When Kate looked at you with those sparkling eyes, veil clipped into her hair, all glowing and giddy and “Can you do me a favor?” You should’ve said it right there. No. But you didn’t.

Because tomorrow she gets married. Tomorrow she becomes someone’s wife, and you’d cut off your own arm to make sure her day is perfect. So now you’re stuck in Joel Miller’s truck. Alone. With him.

You sit curled up on the passenger side, arms crossed, body tense like a coiled spring. You haven’t spoken since you got in. Haven’t looked at him once. He tries though.

“Hey,” he said when you climbed in. “You look… nice.” You didn’t answer.

“You sleep alright last night?”

You made a noncommittal grunt and turned your face to the window.

He’s still trying, glancing over occasionally, fingers drumming on the steering wheel like he’s searching for the right rhythm to break the silence. But you give him nothing.

Because what the hell is there to say? That you still feel his hands on your body when you close your eyes? That your throat tightens when you hear his voice, because it reminds you of how it sounded whispering filth in your ear while he ruined you? That your entire body clenches at the thought of him inside you again?

No, there’s nothing to say. But the universe doesn’t give a fuck about timing. Because just as you pass the city limits, the sky cracks open. One fat drop hits the windshield. Then another. Then it’s a full-on storm.

Rain lashes at the glass, fast and blinding, and Joel slows down immediately. Thunder growls somewhere above, deep and low like the sound of something ancient waking up.

“Shit,” he mutters. “Gotta pull over.”

He steers the truck down an overgrown path and finds an old garage, half-collapsed, but enough to get out of the worst of the storm. The rain slams into the tin roof above you, loud and wild. You’re safe, but it feels suffocating.

Joel turns off the engine. Silence falls, except for the storm. He exhales slowly, then speaks.

“You gonna keep pretendin’ I don’t exist?” he asks quietly.

That’s it. You snap. You whip your head toward him, the heat in your chest rising like boiling water. “What do you want me to say, Joel?!”

He blinks. You’re already throwing the door open, going straight to the rain. You needed a fresh air, one that doesn't smell like Joel's car. His door slams right behind you.

“What are you—,”

“Hey, remember that time you fucked me senseless and now I can’t breathe without thinking about it?” You step out into the rain. “That I feel like a complete idiot because I invited you in and now I can’t even look at myself in the mirror?!”

The cold hits you like a slap, rain soaking your clothes instantly. You welcome it. He follows, his voice sharp through the downpour. “I didn’t plan it either! You think I woke up that morning hopin’ to lose my fuckin’ mind over you?!”

You spin on him. “You didn’t stop me!”

“I couldn’t!” he shouts back, eyes wild, hair already soaked. “You looked at me like you wanted it. Like no one ever looked at me before and I couldn’t—” He stops himself, jaw tight.

You stare at him. The rain pours around you, drumming on the roof, the truck, the gravel. Your chest heaves. Your teeth clench. Everything is raw, exposed, trembling.

“This was a mistake,” you say, but your voice breaks halfway through. He steps closer.

“You don’t believe that.”

“I have to,” you whisper.

Joel’s hands reach out slowly, like approaching a wounded animal. His palms settle on your wet cheeks. “Look I get it…,” he says softly, “but I ain’t sorry for what we did, and I defenitely do not regret it.”

Your breath catches.

“Do you?” He asked, his brown chocolate eyes made your knees weak, and you knew the answer damn well, but it was just hard. Hard to admit that you have feelings for Joel fucking Miller. That you feel something more, and unfortunately, it's not hatress.

“I don't—” you start, but then he kisses you.

Hard. Desperate. Wet mouths clashing in the rain like something out of a dream you’d never admit to having. His hands hold your face like he’s terrified you’ll vanish. Your fingers dig into his shirt, nails catching fabric. There’s nothing gentle about it.

It’s all tongue and teeth and years of hate folding into hunger. You kiss him like you’re punishing him. He kisses you like he’s begging for mercy.

When you finally break apart, you’re both panting.

Foreheads pressed together. Rain dripping from your lashes. His hands stay on your face. Yours clutch his jacket.

“I’m so fucking mad at you,” you whisper.

Joel smiles. “Yeah. I know.”

The morning sun filters in through sheer curtains, soft and golden, bathing the room in light that feels almost sacred.

Kate stands by the mirror, surrounded by laughter, perfume, and a blur of ivory fabric and flowers. Her wedding dress hugs her figure perfectly—delicate lace at the shoulders, tiny buttons running down the back, and a soft, flowing skirt that pools like clouds around her feet. Her hair is curled and pinned, a few loose strands framing her glowing face, and in her hands is a bouquet of wildflowers tied with satin.

She looks like something out of a dream. You watch her, heart pounding, throat tight with nerves. It’s now or never.

“Kate,” you say gently, stepping forward.

She turns to you, bright-eyed. “Yeah?”

Your hands are shaking. You swallow hard. “I need to tell you something. And I should’ve told you sooner, I just… I didn’t know how.”

She blinks. “What is it?”

You inhale slowly. “It’s about me and Joel.”

She was quiet, her eyes full of expectations and lips sucked nervously into a thin line.

“Me and Joel are… kinda together,” you sigh, heart hammering in your chest, fully expecting a meltdown. But instead, she squeals.

“Oh my god, why didn’t you tell me sooner?! This is—this is amazing!” She throws her arms around you, nearly knocking your breath out. “I knew there was something! You’ve been acting so weird! But this, this makes me so happy!”

You’re stunned. “Wait… you’re not mad?”

She pulls back and beams. “Mad? Are you kidding? I ship this. Hard.”

You burst into laughter, nearly crying from the relief.

“You’re insane,” you whisper, wiping your eyes.

“I’m your sister, it’s my job,” she grins.

The wedding ceremony is set beneath an arch of flowers, surrounded by rows of chairs filled with friends and family. The sun is just starting to dip lower, casting long shadows, the sky streaked with pink and lavender.

You stand at the altar as a bridesmaid, bouquet clutched tightly in your hands. You’ve never worn a dress like this before—it’s soft, elegant, pale lavender—and your hair is pinned back, a few curls brushing your cheek. Your palms are sweaty. Your heart’s full.

Across from you, Joel stands in a dark suit, tie slightly loosened, that damn rugged charm still impossible to ignore. And then, the music starts. Everyone rises. You turn your head, and there she is.

Kate walks slowly down the aisle, hand wrapped around your father’s arm, veil trailing behind her like a whisper. Her eyes are wide, lips trembling with a smile, and she looks so happy, like every fairytale in the world decided to make a cameo in her life today.

You feel it before you realize it, tears welling in your eyes. You blink rapidly, but they fall anyway, slipping down your cheeks in quiet streaks.

Then you glance sideways. Joel isn’t looking at the bride. He’s looking at you.

His eyes are soft. Warm. His lips curve into the smallest smile—just for you. One corner up, the kind that says I’m here. I see you. I’m yours.

You smile back, heart blooming.

And in that moment, standing in the golden light of your sister’s wedding, mascara streaking your cheeks, hands still trembling from the weight of it all, you realize you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

With him. With all of it. And finally, finally, it feels like the chaos was worth it.

Hii! Thank you so much for reading!

I hope you guys enjoyed it! If you have any suggestions, don’t hesitate to let me know! I’d also be super happy for any feedback; whether it’s a reblog, comment, like, or even a follow.

Have a lovely day!

LOVE YA! 🥮🍂

408 notes · View notes

mggslover · 2 months ago

Note

Hey I loveddddd the legging pervert!spencer fic, I’d love another one, maybe a part 2, or maybe just another with the same reader and perv!spencer. I love your fics!

SWEAT FOR ME ´-

In which Spencer has a different kind of workout in mind.

pairing perv!spence x leggings!reader genre smut (18+) cw reader is part of the bau + certified gym rat, gym semi public sex, male masturbation, fingering and oral (f receiving), p in v, fwb relationship wc 3,8k a/n we have an official reader! yippie! this is not a pt. 2 but another story in this universe. tysm for this request! feel free to send in more for them :)

Being a loyal gym member came with its set of advantages.

The tenth anniversary of your membership at Quantico’s “Fit4FBI” was coming up. When you joined the BAU, you had signed yourself up for the FBI’s designated training center. Though it was essential for your job to be in good condition, this gym also had the natural pattern of people massively joining during the first weeks of January and collectively giving up around the holidays.

You were one of the few customers that visited regularly. To be specific, every day that you weren’t out on a case. The gym felt like a refuge to you, a place to blow off steam and clear your head from the gruesome cases that seemed to always be on your mind.

You were quick to befriend the owner, Mr. Isaac Dalton, a man in his mid-sixties (but don’t be fooled by his age; there is no trainer as encouraging and persistent as him). It all started with your suggestion to introduce a boxing lesson as a break from the usual Wednesday Pilates classes. It seemed like a small thing to you — boxing has been part of your life since childhood. But to him? It meant everything.

From that day on, you were his favorite customer. Hell, his favorite person even. You gained access to the staff dressing rooms, even to the staff showers — which were a huge upgrade from the shared customer spaces that made even a high school gym look good. Yes, it was that bad. You now knew where they were cutting on the budget to be able to afford the tablets and private jet.

But the best benefit that came with being a star customer was getting the title of rightful owner to a spare set of shiny keys.

Going to the gym after closing hours was the best thing that could happen to you. You were sure that the handover of the keys was a moment that not even your future wedding or the birth of your first child could ever beat. No more eyeing the Smith machine while walking the treadmill, waiting for the right opportunity to take a sprint and claim it before someone else did. No more cleaning of seats because the people before you were too lazy to wipe their sweat away. And thank God, no more annoying people complaining in your ear about how exhausting working out is. Well… besides Spencer.

“I- I can’t,” he panted, letting the dumbbells fall to the ground beside him. In moments like this, you couldn’t help but regret offering him personal training when the gym was supposed to be closed.

You placed your hands on your hips, not hiding the look of judgment as he lay on the training bench, chest heaving like he had just climbed Mount Everest. On heels.

“I truly wonder what you did to pass the physical exam.”

“I was in a remedial training program,” he put his hand on his pounding heart, taking a deep breath before continuing. “They needed new agents in the field, so they made me an exception.”

Well, that explains it.

You shook away your thoughts, extending your hand to help him up. With a groan he stood, legs wobbly as he held onto your shoulders. Your skin felt soft and cool, in contrast to his clammy hands.

Naturally, he started massaging your shoulders, causing a small groan to leave your lips. Spencer was about to slide his fingers under the band of your sports bra, but you stopped him.

“We should do a leg exercise next. Maybe your legs are stronger than your arms.”

Now it was his turn to groan. “Have you seen me? I’m not even standing straight right now.”

“I know, Bambi,” you chuckled jokingly. “People usually find leg extensions one of the easier exercises. You’ll be fine.”

“That makes sense. Your legs are part of your body’s largest muscle groups. Studies have shown that your creatine kinase and myoglobin levels increase significantly after an arm exercise compared to a leg exercise.” He explained as you walked to the equipment at the back of the gym.

You raised an eyebrow. “And that means?”

“It means that your arms are easier to get sore than your legs. They’re also easier to get damaged and heal after an extensive workout.”

You hummed, saving the information to the back of your mind. There must be a day when these random facts will come in handy.

Spencer continued his info dumping as you changed the amount of weights on the machine, putting the pin into 80 lb — a standard beginner’s weight.

You clapped your hands when you were finished. “Okay, you’re all set up.”

“What do I do?” He asked cluelessly.

“Take a seat.”

He did as you said, waiting for further instruction.

“And now you place your feet under the lever and lift it up. You can hold onto the handles for support.”

Spencer followed your instructions, holding onto the levers before he lifted his legs. He paused them at the top for a moment before slowly lowering them back down.

“That’s it. Good job.”

Spencer didn’t respond to your compliment. Concentration was etched onto his face. His eyebrows were furrowed and his mouth slightly agape as he repeated the motion. His tongue poked out to the side as he counted the reps in his head, occasionally wetting his lips.

You looked at him. First to make sure he was executing the exercise correctly, but you quickly got distracted. Sweat dripped down his neck, the droplets falling into the white tank top that he wore. At this point it wouldn’t have made a difference if he wore a shirt or not, the fabric being so translucent that you could see the color of his skin.

Your eyes traced him until they landed on his arms. He had a tight grip on the handles, making the veins that decorated his arms and hands look prominent.

Your gaze fell even lower — and it really shouldn’t have — because now you noticed how his shorts have ridden all the way up to his thighs. It wouldn’t surprise you if they dated back to high school. The material clung tightly to him, and every time he tilted his legs, the shorts bulged around his crotch.

To put it simply, he looked hot. Extremely hot.

Get your head out of the gutter. He’s here to train, to gain more confidence in the field. Not to be your personal eye candy.

You were supposed to stay with him the entire time, as a personal trainer does. But you don’t think you can stand here for a second longer trying to fight the urge to jump him.

“I’m going to do some sets on the Smith machine,” you pointed toward the device that stood a couple of feet away, still in clear sight.

Again, no response from the still focused Spencer.

You made your way over to the machine, picking out the weights that you wanted to add to the bar. In routine, you positioned yourself under the bar, placing your feet at shoulder-width, before bending your knees.

In the meantime, Spencer had completed his set of reps. He grabbed his water bottle from the ground next to him, feeling like a real gym jock as he gulped the contents down, then wiped his mouth with the back of his fist.

He looked up to find you. And he was so grateful that he had swallowed, or there’d be a fountain of water bursting from his lips right now.

He didn’t know what a Smith machine entailed, but he definitely didn’t expect to find you in a squatting position yet again. His eyes went to your ass first, obviously. Seeing how perfectly you filled out your leggings, the fabric clinging to every curve, giving the illusion that it could rip at any given moment.

But then his eyes snapped to your upper back. How the muscles in your shoulders flexed as you lifted the bar of weights. There was something so enticing about how strong you were. He thought back on all the times he had pinned you down underneath him, not having realized that you could easily spin him around. Dominate him.

A shiver soared through his body, straight to his pulsing cock. He looked down, embarrassed to find himself twitching, the tip of his cock begging to escape from under his shorts. He placed a hand on his bulge — meant to stop himself — but with the way you kept bending down, he had no choice but to rub his hand over his length.

A breathy moan escaped his throat as he watched you. He imagined lying down on the ground beneath you — germs and safety hazards be damned — holding you by your hips as you’d press your bare cunt into his face. He’d make sure to make the most out of every squat, licking your folds and kissing your clit, before you stood back up.

Spencer didn’t know during which set his hand had found its way into his shorts, only that he struggled to keep quiet as he tugged on his length. His eyes rolled back as he circled his tip with his thumb, collecting precum and using it as lube to stroke the rest of his cock.

He fantasized about you walking up to him, holding onto his shoulders as you’d climb on top of his lap. How you would free his cock from the restraints of his boxers. The way your mouth would open in a gasp at the sight of his throbbing length springing free. You would grab him by the shaft, rubbing his tip against your puffy lips before sinking down onto him. His hands would clasp onto your ass, massaging the flesh like his cock would massage your inner walls as he pumped his length into you.

“Oh fuck,” he muttered, flicking his wrist faster as his gaze remained burnt on you.

He had his eyes closed shut, nearing the brink of an orgasm, when he heard the loud clang of the bar attaching to the machine. At record speed, he adjusted his length, tugging his tank top over his shorts in an effort to hide how hard he was. He then wiped his hands on his shorts, just in time before you walked up to him.

“Hey,” you said, out of breath. “How did it go?”

“Good! Good. I completed all the sets, actually.”

A beautiful, bright smile tilted at the corner of your lips. It almost distracted him from the way your breasts pushed up in your sports bra, shining in a light coat of sweat. Almost.

“I thought of another exercise we could do,” Spencer suggested.

Curiosity filled your mind. “Okay, gym rat. Let’s hear it.”

Spencer walked you to the hip abductor, a machine that trains the muscles of your inner thighs and glutes by sitting down and spreading your legs against the resistance of the padded weights.

You waited for him to sit down, but he remained standing behind you. Your neck flushed with goosebumps as he leaned in, breath tickling the skin. “I want you to use it.”

“Okay,” you chirped, trying not to show how much his proximity was affecting you.

“Uh, uh, uh,” he tsked as you stepped forward. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. And that’s when you felt it. His erection poking at your lower back.

“You can’t possibly work out in an outfit like this,” he said, fingers playing with the waistband of your leggings.

You narrowed your eyes. “What do you mean?”

His hand slid lower into the fabric, fingers grazing your hip bones. “I think you should take these off. Don’t want it to be ruined with sweat, or you know, something else.”

You raised your eyebrow. “Is that a challenge, Reid?”

“You never seemed to back down from one before,” he dared.

A glint of mischief flickered in your eyes. You hooked your fingers into the waistband of your leggings, and you swore you could hear him take in a sharp breath.

You bent over. In an agonizing slowness, you pulled your leggings down, revealing the plumpness of your bare skin.

“Jesus, you’re beautiful,” Spencer praised, eyes scanning the curves of your nude ass and legs.

You slipped away from his grasp, grinning as you took your place at the seat of the machine. As the manual explained, you spread your legs, grateful that you kept the weights at beginner’s level.

You threw your head back laughing as Spencer kneeled in front of you, finally making the connection on what he was about to do. “You are absolutely insane. Do you know that I could crush your head with these weights?”

He hummed, not really caring about the possible consequences as he was face to face with your spread-open pussy. “It’ll be worth it.”

He reached out with his finger, drawing a line up your slick folds. “Also — considering your expertise in exercises like this, and the fact that the weights are way less heavy than the ones you’d usually choose — I estimate that my chances of not dying are pretty high tonight.”

Before you could give a clever response back, he pressed his finger down on your clit. A shudder coursed through your body, accompanied by a flutter of butterflies.

“You’re so wet already,” Spencer mused. “What have you been thinking of?”

“Same thing as you,” you responded, thinking back on how hard his cock was when he pressed it against you.

He continued trailing his fingers up and down your slit, warming you up, before halting them at your entrance. “Ready?”

You nodded hastily, anticipation pulling at your core.

Spencer slipped a finger inside of you with ease, groaning at the sweet sound that escaped your lips. Being fingered never felt special before; that was until you met Spencer. Though it wasn’t fair to compare him to any of the other people you’ve been with. His fingers were heavenly: long, slender, soft. He pumped it in and out of your pussy before leaning in and capturing your clit with his tongue. Surprise washed over you, but you didn’t have time to adjust to the feeling. He clouded your mind by switching between flicking his tongue and sucking on the bundle, while his finger matched the steady rhythm.

“Need more,” you whimpered, rolling your hips into his face. He hummed against your clit, the vibrations sending tingles through every part of your body.

When he pulled back, his lips were glistening with your juices. “Can you handle another finger?” He asked as he swiped his tongue over his lips.

You quickly nodded, not even needing him to ask for permission. He stretched you out by inserting another finger, not stopping until he was knuckle-deep inside of you.

“I like this machine,” he stated, curling his digits up to your g-spot. “I don’t need to hold your thighs open to keep you from squirming.”

You softly cried as the tips of his fingers hit your pleasure point, increasing his pace in a way that made you see stars.

“You look so pretty. All spread out for me, letting me use you how I want.” He muttered, more to himself than to you, before he attached his lips back onto your pussy.

The pleasure felt overwhelming. Spencer stimulated you with his hands and mouth in all the spots that he could. He was good at this. Too good at this. You felt almost sad when you felt the familiar heat building up, not wanting it to be over yet.

Still, you gasped, “Just like that!” Your hands were gripping the handles of the machine for dear life as the tip of his tongue drew figure eights against your clit.

Everything cut to white noise, your abdomen tightened, and your hips started spasming until you finally cried out his name.

Your body trembled in aftershocks as Spencer made sure to lap up your juices, not wanting a single drop to go to waste.

He stood up, taking his time as he lovingly grazed your cheek with his clean hand. “Felt good?”

You hummed in response. Your eyes fluttered to the obvious tent in his shorts, not able to ignore it. “That looks painful,” you observed.

“I really want to be inside of you.” He confessed.

His words made you chuckle. Spencer always made sure to satisfy you first, before thinking of his own needs. Even when his achingly red tip had been leaking precum ever since he saw you in that gym outfit earlier today.

“Where do you want me?” You purred, making a groan escape his throat. He loved the way you let him take direction, how you made it seem like he was the one in charge — when you were both completely aware of the fact that you could have him on his knees at any given time and at any place that you’d like.

His eyes scanned the gym, landing on an empty bench.

“That one.” He decided, like he chose some Sour Patch Kids in a candy shop.

You got up — used to having shaky legs due to working out every day — and took Spencer’s hand in yours, guiding him to the sole bench next to the colored kettlebells.

Spencer was glad you were holding his hand, or otherwise he’d have stumbled against every surrounding object, too entranced by the way your hips moved from side to side with every step that you took. If he wasn’t so hypnotized by the sight, he would’ve given your ass a slap — more like a tap — not enough to cause you pain, but enough for you to squeal. Enough for you to move to your tiptoes in reflex. Enough to see your ass shake.

As if born ready, you laid down on the bench, spreading your legs that bent perfectly due to the position you’d just held for minutes.

Spencer didn’t waste any time, pulling his shorts and boxers down in a single, swift movement, his cock jumping free from its confinements. You grinned when he also got rid of his tank top. You bit your lip as you looked at him, wet curls of hair sticking to his forehead and his chest glistening in a light layer of sweat.

His large hands wrapped around your ankles, holding you in place. He then tilted his hips until his length lined up with your needy pussy. A drip of precum spilled from his tip, cock aching as he took in how perfect you looked: your clit still swollen from his tongue, and your soft thighs glittering from the wetness that was still leaking out of you.

In a single motion, he pushed himself in. His cock disappearing all the way in between your folds.

Your brows furrowed and your mouth hung open as he started moving his hips, not giving you the time to recover.

“‘M sorry,” he mumbled. “You just feel too good. So warm. Couldn’t wait.”

Your hands gripped around the air, needing something to hold onto as he fucked you deeply.

You settled on your tits. Cupping them through your sports bra, pinching your nipples that were so hard they poked right through the layer of fabric.

“Oh fuck, baby, you look so hot like that.” Spencer moaned. “I’m so lucky,” he said in awe.

He opened your legs further — surprising you with your flexibility — as he hovered above you. His cock slipped in even deeper, your pussy swallowing him to the hilt. You could feel every vein as he massaged your inner walls, relieving you of your aching. He was close enough for you to dig your nails into his shoulder blades. He didn’t attempt to muffle his whimpers when you pressed little half-moon indents into his back. Your in-sync moans and the colliding of bare skin were the only sounds that echoed off the bare gym walls.

Spencer anchored you in place with his length while his hand reached out to pull the cup of your bra down, freeing your breast. In a second his mouth was latched onto your nipple, sucking on it like he was a man starving.

“Kiss me,” you whimpered, hands tugging at his hair. You needed to feel those soft, pink lips on yours.

As much as he loved your tits, he obeyed in an instant. Hungrily locking his mouth with yours. He placed his bent arms on either side of your head, large hands cupping your face as he kissed you intensely. His tongue swiped against yours in the same exquisite way as the tip of his cock swiped the place inside of you where you needed him most.

“Legs hurt,” he whined against your mouth.

“Count it- fuck,” you moaned as he thrust deep into you. “Count it as an exercise.”

He chuckled breathlessly. “This might be the hardest one yet.”

Literally, you thought. But the word couldn’t make it past your lips, transforming into a high-pitched moan as he upped his speed.

“Just like that, please, Spencer,” you cried out.

There was no bigger motivation than your sweet pleas filling his ears. With all his might, he slammed into you, your pussy pulsing around him, making his vision hazy. All that was on his mind was you. How you felt. How you tasted. How he needed to spill inside of you.

A string of yes’s repeatedly left your lips, signaling to him that you were close.

“I’m going to come inside of you,” he announced, swallowing your moans by pressing his lips back to yours.

You clawed at his back, bucking your hips up into him until a jolt of electricity shot through your body. Your back arched off the bench as you gave yourself over to the all-consuming feeling. It was not even a second later when Spencer’s legs gave out. His cock twitching as spurts of white filled your insides.

He collapsed on top of you, feeling your racing heartbeat against him. For a moment you lay down like that, on the way too narrow bench. Enjoying each other’s presence as a comfortable silence filled the air.

Once his breathing had calmed down, Spencer seemed to notice a small, red flickering light that was attached to the ceiling. A security camera.

“Hey,” he started, asking for your attention.

You made a small sound, too exhausted to speak.

“You have the keys to the office, right?”

“No, just to the entrance. Why?”

#loverrequests #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #spencer reid fanfic

916 notes · View notes

neocrias · 3 months ago

Note

Heeeeey I was wondering if you could do SVT when they move in with you?

Hey!! So sorry for taking so long, we were quite packed with work (we're happily on a break rn!) Let us know if that's what you wanted!

Seventeen moving in with you

warnings: descriptions; headcanons; gn (mostly) reader self insert;

pairings: svt x gn reader

gender/aus: fluff; slightly suggestive

Scoups

He does not move in with you, instead, he'll make you live with him.

In the first weeks, he might have some difficulty adapting to someone else in his house (he won't say a thing though, even if you leave fingerprints on his flawless fridge surface or decide to keep your underwear in a drawer that's clearly for t-shirts). He just hates the idea of leaving you uncomfortable in what's supposed to be your house too now.

And then he'll see you cutely sleeping on your new shared bed every morning before going to work and all of that's forgotten. It's worth it anyway. He’ll look at you with the biggest dreamy eyes, taking in your carefree and slightly messy state and feel so at home - and suddenly there’s nothing he wants to complain about.

As you lay your feet by the coffee table, Seungcheol’s eyes seem to widen, but he inhales deeply, trying not to think much about it. His skilful hands slowly snake around your legs, softly moving them to his own lap, patting the skin with a small grin. As you smile back at him, satisfied with the romantic gesture, he sighs lowly in relief, looking back and forth between you and the now free coffee table.

Jeonghan

Moves in with you after making you insist for months (he actually has been wanting that for a long while but wanted you to beg before he eventually did it).

The moment he steps into your now shared apartment, he'll feel instantly at home. So yes, he WILL absolutely take your things off their places to put his without any ceremony.

During the first weeks, he might play some tricks and pranks, hiding away your things just to have you looking around for them (he thinks it's adorable).

His total absolute weakness is when you cook. He gets giggly and happy and could admire you for hours while you cook in your kitchen, he's just a simp for the domesticity of it and loves that you're taking care of you both.

“Hannie, have you seen my heart-shaped earrings? I could’ve sworn I left them in the dresser!” You look out carefully through the furniture, grabbing your hair in frustration and sighing.

“Heart-shaped earrings? I might have seen them somewhere, but I just can’t remember where…” He smiles mischievously, admiring the way you’re leaning to search for them so exasperated as he fidgets with your earrings in his hand

Joshua:

He’s the one who asks you to live with him during a special moment between you too - in a certain way, he was trying to be romantic, but he also really wanted to leave the dorms anyways (lol).

As soon as you both set in, he tries to show you exactly how he usually does things, so that you won’t be lost or confused (also because he just really has his own routine and habits and can be quite methodical :p)

He’s got his own space in the house, full of plants, pottery, etc. It’s where he usually goes when he wants some time to think - and yes, he’ll totally encourage you to use it too or maybe set up your own little space.

Hear me out: SCENTED CANDLES. Those are his best friends, and he’ll surely have one for each special moment. You’re cooking together? He’ll light the tangerine and sandalwood one; Cuddling? Jasmine and vanilla; Making out? Pomegranate and red pepper coming right away.

Overall just loves being close to you on a daily basis so that he can take care of you and all your needs. Plus, he's sooo organized and clean. Everything is always in order and smelling good in your house.

“Are you good, darling?” He asks, seeing you curled up on the couch.

“Just migraines…” You shrug it off. Joshua looks at you worried, but also full of determination to help you.

“Hey, I’ve seen this new massage method for that, let me take care of you…” He says before pulling you closer with the most tender smile. “I can make you some tea too.”

Jun:

He’ll be slightly confused during the first weeks. The first time he sees underwear that’s not his in the dryer, he might go “?” for a couple of seconds before letting out a “Ahh, true, true” with a relieved sigh and a small smile, going back to whatever he was doing.

Will absolutely take some souvenirs and small memoirs from the sets of his dramas and movies to your house, displaying them proudly - and as you start setting in, he’ll cautiously ask if you don’t want to display some things from your own hobbies as well, just to make sure you’re also feeling at home.

Jun will absolutely cook a whole home-made dinner the day you move in with him. Just the two of you, the boxes of your belongings all around and a boiling bowl on the dinner table as he eyes you expectantly and adoringly, waiting for you to taste the food he took so effort on, even if he won’t exactly admit that.

“ The recipe kind of asked for green onions, but I didn’t put them in…” He shrugs, tasting the stew while giving you a side glance, as if waiting for your reaction.

“Oh, because I don’t like them? You remembered it?” You ask back, smiling thankfully as Jun’s eyes light up, half pride and half loving.

“Of course, since I’ll be cooking for you a lot more from now on…”

Hoshi:

His eyes will literally sparkle the moment you mention anything remotely close to “living together” and then that’ll literally turn into his life mission. He’ll come up with this all the time until you finally decide to move in with him (he’ll be so enthusiastic when that day comes).

Like, what do you mean he’ll be able to annoy you and banter with you 24/7? That’s a “yes” for him, thank you very much. He also just likes the concept of seeing you in all natural states possible way too much.

Similar to Jeonghan, he will also be very comfortable with the situation the moment you set in. His brain won’t take much to process that now your things are also his and his things are also yours, so he will be using and touching whatever he sees through the house as if it’s always been there in the first place.

One of his favorite things to do will be definitely coming up with a speaking voice for his dog, using it to communicate with you playfully when he wants something.

“Oh someone’s in a bad mood, right dad?” Hoshi coos, holding poor Latte on the level of his head, facing you.

“Really, Soonyoung, this is not the time to play around.” You answer, trying to remain serious.

“But mom, dad swears he didn’t do it on purpose when he forgot to separate the colored and white clothes on the washing machine!” He whines again in a high-pitch voice, shaking Latte slightly

“Damn…Fine, but just because you’re way too cute…” You mutter, sighing and scooting closer. Hoshi hands Latte in your direction, expecting her to lick your face, but you surprise him as you dodge the dog, going straight for his own lips.

Wonwoo:

You’ll be the first one to suggest moving in, but it isn’t as if he hadn’t already thought about the idea. Quite a lot, actually.

Wonwoo might worry to get you extremely comfortable in his home, knowing that his own habits might not be the most fit for you, but still trying to accommodate your own routines together. He’ll constantly ask you if you need anything before he dozes off to his room to play, and he’ll make sure he organizes his stuff properly before you move in so that you’ll have a lot of space to junk your stuff in.

Despite being slightly nervous when you first started moving in, in a few weeks he will realize that really, it’s all fine. You’ll be in the living room doing whatever it is that you want while he games the evening away, and that’ll take much less to worry than he previously thought it would.

“What about ordering some pizza?” You suggest, head laying on Wonwoo’s lap, eyes not leaving the sight of the book in your hands. You sense your boyfriend adjusting himself slightly before answering, his eyes not leaving his own book either.

“Sounds good to me. I’ll get it delivered for us.” He mutters, finally closing his book to grab his phone, taking a quick glance at your focused look below him, a soft smile threatening to break on his lips as he sighs in contentment.

Woozi:

The second you accept moving in with him, he’ll be arranging space in his indoor gym for you to put whatever you want in there; after all, if he’s not working, he’ll probably be working out in there, and he’d love to have you in the same room, doing what fits you best.

Despites that, he’ll make sure that you both have your two separate spaces in the house; maybe different bathrooms and different wardrobes. The thing is, he’s so busy, and his things can get dirty, but he doesn’t want to burden you with that. Solution? He dirties his own bathroom, and you can enjoy your own clean and pretty one.

I also feel like he might have a very minimalistic, and empty place, not much furnished or decorated, so he’ll love it when you start making yourself at home, hanging over small decorations or pictures on the wall. It’ll make him feel more cozy, and surrounded by you.

During the first days, he might be making some jokes and puns about you living together with him, but during the second week he’ll be already used to it as if you guys have been living together for years now.

“Babe, can you get me my headphones in my bedroom?” He asks cautiously as he sees you moving in that direction, before cracking up a small smile in realization “Oops, I mean our bedroom”. You nod, leaving the room, listening to him chuckling softly by himself at his own little comment.

DK:

He’s so thrilled by the idea of living together he might as well just move to your house, plus, he doesn’t want you to pass through the burden of having to move all your stuff.

Literally sooo excited about it, he’s another one to cook you a “welcome to the living-together life” dinner, as he clumsily adjusts himself to the placement of things in your kitchen. He’ll bump into some stuff and search for utensils he literally just placed away before smiling sheepishly at you, promising that dinner’s going to be ready as soon as he gets to understand your kitchen’s layout.

In the first days, he’ll be so cautious not to disrupt the organization of your house, always asking whether he can set his things where he wants to, or asking politely where do you keep the toilet paper, or the cleaning supplies.

But he’ll soon have your whole house all mapped out in his mind, and as soon as you realize, you’ll be the one asking him where the things are (lol).

He’ll take sooo good care of your shared house. He’ll preserve it and happily do the chores, knowing that he’s simply letting your own little space more cozy for you both to enjoy.

“Hey, love, sorry to ask again…but can I use that smaller pan that’s in the oven?” He shyly asks, hoping to cook you both a meal.

“Dokyeom, for god’s sake, it’s your house too. Of course you can use it.” You smile back at him, trying to reassure him for the nth time this week.

“Oh, that’s true…” He chuckles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as his cheeks flush to the sound of your words “I keep on forgetting that”

Mingyu:

He’d happily move in with you, but you decide to go to his house and he just accepts it. Be prepared not to move an inch during moving day - he’ll carry all your boxes, suitcases and basically anything you want to shove into his apartment.

Mingyu will also help you place every single one of your belongings, making sure that you get to decide where you want your things to be, but at the same time having some control over the changes in his own space. He’ll explain to you where things are so thoroughly that you’ll never have trouble finding anything.

He’s very likely to have a sappy moment while glancing at your toothbrushes together by the sink, internally loving the way your personal belongings are now sharing the same space (and so are you!)

“Okay, let’s order something to eat, baby” He sits down exhausted, sweating slightly after spending the whole day unpacking your stuff around.

“Oh, but I thought you would…cook for us. Like you always do.” You admit shyly, naturally expecting your top-chef boyfriend to serve you your very first domestic scene together.

“I will, baby, everyday, don’t worry about that.” He winks playfully. “But today I’m spent…” He sighs and you laugh softly, appreciating Mingyu’s pouty face.

Minghao:

I feel like Minghao is likely to ask you both to move together, so that you two can decide where you want to live, how the apartment will look like, how to organize it, etc.

And he’ll have MANY opinions, don’t doubt it. Minghao wants his home to look like a home, to display both yours and his personality on the walls (and if it depends on him, your apartment is going to be super sophisticated and elegant, damn you for being so aesthetically aware Xu Minghao!)

He’s also very organized and totally in favor of you having your own personal spaces to unwind.

One of his favorite things about living together is getting to share his quiet hobbies with someone else, more specifically things that he could do by himself, but that could be much more pleasant if you were by his side - such as having tea ceremonies, painting, reading or just watching a movie.

“Darling, I’m going to meditate for a while, so if you could turn the TV volume down a little, please…” He asks politely, head peeking at the bedroom door frame. As you nod readily, Minghao stops to think a little, looking at you again with a gentle smile. “Actually, would you like to join me?”

Seungkwan:

If he's the one moving in with you, he'll judge the way you do things in your house (like what do you mean you keep your underwear in the second drawer of the dresser!? everyone knows it's supposed to be kept on the first one!), but if you move in with him, he'll carefully show you all around as if it was a big tour or a tutorial of 'how to live in here' - which might be totally cute

Will totally make you watch sports with him. It doesn't matter if it's the most obscure sports team playing the most random sport you've ever seen, he'll watch it (and so will you!).

He'll try to explain to you how the game works, but at any hints of questions or doubts he'll either 1- explain to you overly-dramatically as if you were a five y.o or 2- say "nevermind, sweetie, you'll understand it better as the match goes on"

“But Seungkwan....I already know your house, I've been here countless times!” You mutter as he keeps on making a sort of MCing voice to present every corner of his apartment to you.

“ sHUT UP, so, here's where we keep the toilet paper…”

Vernon:

Guy's a little messy, so when you finally move into his place, he'll try to tone it down for a while. He won't necessarily clean up everything, but he'll probably refrain from, I don't know, leaving his wet towel in the bed. For your sake, at least.

Hansol's said to make tons of online shopping and not even opening them when they arrive, only stocking numerous boxes of trinkets. Well, hear me out, his love language is that when you start living with him, he'll start online shopping for you too! He found something cute online? Totally buying it for you. Don't get too excited though, you'll never see those presents, because as soon as they arrive, they're going to the long pile of unopened deliveries (he probably won't even remember that he bought anything in the first place, but the thought still counts, right?)

I just feel like he also would like to have his own space, even if you're living together, so it won't be strange if you spend the whole afternoon in the bedroom and him in the living room, doing your own things.....but yeah, he will be down to cuddling given the chance, no need to ask twice

“Sollie, what’s this…?” You carefully shake one of the dozens of boxes in your living room.

“Hm…” He ponders. “It might either be a Sponge Bob cutlery set or a pair of flip flops. Not sure.” Hansol murmurs, a little pensative. You roll your eyes, opening the box impatiently only to be surprised by a beautiful and seemingly expensive perfume kit. “Oh, yep, that’s for you.” He smiles softly, taking in the gift he bought a couple of months ago, and had totally forgotten about.

Dino:

He’s so happy and excited about it, you literally have to stop and tell him that you can’t actually move in together at the spot, but actually plan and organize this stuff.

Chan might just want to get a completely new place for you both. A space that’ll truly be new and fully yours.

He’ll totally let you decide on most things regarding the new place. Not because he doesn’t care, or because he doesn’t want to work on it, but because he actually wants the whole place to be filled with you and your taste. So yes, just decide it and he’ll make it work.

You will be spoiled. If you ever mention that you like a specific snack, or a fruit, or any type of beverage, you’ll wake up to a fridge dramatically filled with it the next day.

It’ll only dawn on him that you’re actually living together when he sees you doing something incredibly domestic like cleaning something or walking around in your loungewear, and then his heart WILL flutter, believe me.

“Woah… I must be really lucky.” He mutters to himself while lazily lying on the couch, seeing you walk around the apartment in your pajamas.

“What did you say?” You call out from the other room.

“Nothing!” Chan calls out back, smiling sheepishly. “Hey! You know we moved in together to spend more time with each other, right? You’ll leave me all by myself all day?” He whines playfully, but with a hint of sincerity as you chuckle to yourself, quickly heading back to your clingy boyfriend in the living room.

#'svt x reader #svt scenarios #svt fluff #svt smut #seventeen #svt imagines #svt headcanons #seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #svt x you #svt reactions #seventeen reactions #svt angst #slightly suggestive #svt reader #svt x reader #svt fic #seventeen imagine #seventeen fic

471 notes · View notes

melliemell · 5 months ago

Note

OKAY HEAR ME OUT.. POCKY GAME WITH THE BSD CAST (preferably Ranpo and Dazai, feel free to add whoever u want!!) MAKE IT ROMANTIC TOO PLZ I CANT GET THIS IDEA OUT OF MY HEAD🙏🙏🙏

LOTS OF LOVE - an anon who lost their glasses

👀👀this... this was too fun to write ohmygod you have no idea

Now you've managed to get me stuck on thoughts of silly little moments with those losers too aaAAAAAA I gotchu nonnie, you ask and I deliver😌

BSD Cast ft. Pocky Game

(Dazai, Ranpo, Fyodor, Chuuya; high-key suggestive, blame them not me)

Dazai

“It’s a very delicate procedure.”

“Mmm, big boy business, I see.”

“Shush. Good students listen to their sensei first and give smartass remarks later. Now…”

It would be Dazai’s idea, not surprising in the slightest. The thing is, he’d be very convincing about this, all sweet smiles and an offhand remark how cute it’d be ‘cause couples are supposed to do sappy things, duh. An innocent enough suggestion, one you found amusing but nothing to bat an eye about.

Until you add Dazai’s complete disregard for social norms and he’d be pulling those things out in the most embarrassing, inconvenient places he could think of. Mostly to annoy you, secondly to see how red in the face you’d get if he put you in a compromising situation. And oh boy do those happen often.

One moment you’d be in the middle of discussing important work matters with Atsushi, the next Dazai’s sliding up in your personal space, pocky already hanging at his lips. Worst is he’d act as though this is your average activity, batting his lashes all sweetly at you as he waited. If you snap the pocky with your hand instead he’d react as though it was his heart you just crushed, you cruel beauty of his.

It’s all fine though, things considered. So long as he does get his kiss in the end. Behind some privacy this time.

Ranpo

No. Do not engage with this man in a pocky game, he will be an absolute menace about it.

Unlikely to suggest it himself as it means he’d have to share his snacks with you. Could be convinced if informed of the chance of getting free smooches though. But he’d whine about it, probably already munching on the pack you bought as you were explaining the rules to him.

In the case of you managing to save some for the actual thing…

“Yeah, yeah, can you get on with it? I wanna play already.”

Ranpo does not, in fact, play. The moment you get in place, both of you biting onto your respective side, Ranpo all but throws away any and all rule-information you gave. Who needs those? Only losers, that’s who.

He’s already bitten off almost the entirety of the pocky, lips finding yours a second later as he pulls you in, hands smashing up your cheeks on both sides. You can practinally hear him munching on the chocolate which makes this all the more hilarious. Talk about mixed priorities.

Second try goes just as the first one; any illusions of a game forgotten as you were pretty sure Ranpo’s impatience wasn’t quite something you were equipt for…

The third and final chance (last pocky, unfortunately he ate the rest) wasn’t really a chance, honestly. Not when you could just push him back on the couch and kiss him stupid as you climbed atop.

He might get the remaining pocky later. Maybe.

Fyodor

“How charming.”

Would be amused by the whole thing. Unexpectedly easy to convince, and it gets even weirder as he calmly complies with the rules, nodding patiently. Before you know it you’re staring down at each other, one pocky distance between you two.

Not the type to rush into things, letting you get closer to him instead. Expect a lot of raised eyebrows and chaste kisses as you go through the whole pack. Did you think this was a one go thing? Silly you. A happy, satisfied partner is a compliant one, after all. Little things like this cost him nothing, but could bring a smile on your face. Why would he waste an opportunity like that?

Unlikely to push things further… but just as unlikely to stop you from leaving a few more kisses on him. One or two at the edge of his lips. One accidentally finding its way on his jaw. A trail of feathery brushes down his throat and soon he’d be getting the memo pretty well.

You can’t help it. There’s something about Fyodor’s damned calmness that always leads to this. Maybe it’s the presence of character; something solid and secure before you that always manages to crawl under your skin. You’d be pulling at his shirt and trousers before you know it, pocky game entirely forgotten.

Chuuya

This one’s a trickie.

Chuuya’d be split between wanting to give in to your sillies, but also… why? Why this? Why not go to that nice and fancy restaurant he talked to you about? The one with the molten chocolate cakes; he’d treat you to all the sweets in the world if you’d ask him.

Embarrassed at first, and trying his best to sneakily pull himself out of the situation. Until you finally manage to corner him, pocky box in hand and a roguish glint in your eyes.

Maybe it was his dignity, or maybe he was playing too much into the tough guy persona. But the moment you sat him down, a winner’s determination written all over your face– oh, no. Hell no, this was on.

Forget about any cute couple moments. Oh nono, it was all narrowed eyes and prolonged stares of intense analysis, each trying to predict the others’ move. One wrong decision, just the slightest distraction and–

Before Chuuya had you round the waist, rolling you suddenly on the bed as a panicked yelp flew from your lips. The absolute ass. And he’d be laughing about it too, looking down at your sprawled form with the goofiest smile, trying to bite into his lower lip to stifle yet another fit.

“You all good, sweets? Guess ya lost this round.”

And you’d pull him down, your breath ghosting over his widening grin.

“We’ll see about that.”

647 notes · View notes

alexrosa13 · 3 months ago

Note

Hi! I've read your writing about the supermodel! I'm obsessed with it! Can you do something similar but make the MC/reader an idol?

Idol

Xavier; Zayne; Rafayel; Sylus; Caleb; Jeremiah; Greyson; Thomas; Luke & Kieran x female!reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: may come out a little suggestive if you squint (Xavier; Sylus; Greyson), alcohol (Thomas), hinted at bisexual reader in Luke & Kieran's part

Note: OMG HELL YES, I was really confused if the idea was supposed to be about just idol, or a k-pop kind of idol so I went with the idea of the reader being a soloist whether k-pop or not - doesn't matter

for masterlist and request info head to the navigation →

Music is what feelings sound like...

Xavier

How do we rewrite the stars?

Say you were made to be mine

Nothing can keep us apart

'Cause you are the one I was meant to find

~ „Rewrite The Stars” Zac Efron, Zendaya

★ falls asleep listening to your music, makes it his ringtone, all of his chores are done while humming to it, he's obsessed in the cutest way

★ oh if you'd ever write a song inspired by him; expect him to not leave you alone for at least two weeks straight, he will be tailing you like a puppy wherever you go (if you're already on this stage in a relationship then bathroom included, you can lock the door but this dude can teleport sooo...)

★ would get any merch you release and would (will) make you sign it (please add a little heart or a star to your autograph every now and then, he will cherish those pieces the most)

★ after your concerts, late at night in your shared home, you would have a private concert between just the two of you and occasionally you would also invite animals that came to visit you

"Xavier my voice is dead, you have to sing solo." you laughed while taking a sip of water from your bottle.

"But without my other half this song isn't as special as it's supposed to be, it's our song." he complained, while looking too cute with a little frown on his face.

"Then pick another song, and this one we'll sing together tomorrow, deal?" you came closer to him, your arms curling around his neck, hugging him.

You swore that the brightest stars of tonight's sky were hidden in his eyes, looking at you as if reflecting your shine, as if your joy was what made him truly the happiest.

With a quiet sight he complied, agreeing to continue your little concert another day, letting your vocal cords rest after hours of singing.

You felt his hands tightening its hold at your waist before casting you up, making you cling to him even more, while your legs wrapped around his waist. You threw him a questioning look, but he simply smiled while proceeding to carry you towards your shared bathroom.

"Xavier? May I ask what exactly are you doing?" you giggled a bit while he sat you down at the edge of the tub.

"Planning to spoil you and get you ready for bed." he said casually while already starting to prepare a bath.

"So the first point of your little plan is running me a bath?" he nodded, not looking at you, too focused on getting the right temperature of water "Will you join me?" now you got his attention. Seeing your smiley face he wouldn't even dream of refusing, deciding to simply chuckle to himself and nod his head once more.

Zayne

Unconditional, unconditionally

I will love you unconditionally

There is no fear now

Let go and just be free

~ „Unconditionally” Katy Perry

★ makes sure that you don't overwork yourself, which sometimes may be hard while your new album is about to drop or a tour is approaching

★ sometimes, especially in the evening when it's just the two of you in the quietness of your home, you like to sit in his office and write songs while he works, some lyrics would never leave your notes, too personal to share them with the world

★ would attend award ceremonies with you, however he won't walk the red carpet by your side, when asked about it he simply says that it's only your moment to shine, but you know that it's just because he's not fully comfortable with that kind of attention on him

★ if you play instruments in a different room while he's working he would purposely leave the door to his office open, same with singing, once he'll finished with all of the documents he would go to find you and listen to you in person, sometimes hiding behind the wall as 'not to distract you'

He heard another faint note coming from the piano in the living area of your home, soon accompanied by your voice, so quiet and soft that Zayne almost couldn't catch it.

Looking at the clock in the corner of the monitor of his work laptop and noticing the late hour he decided to call it a night. The rest of his work can wait until tomorrow, now he wanted to spend the remaining hours of the day with his love, and nothing could stop him.

He left his office and made his way through the dark corridor, his steps quiet, not wanting to alert you of his presence, planning to stay unnoticed for a while and enjoy your little concert.

And just like any other time: he succeeded.

He leaned against the wall on the other side of the room while watching your back, slightly lit garden making as your background behind the huge window.

If recorded - this moment could fit perfectly in one of your future music videos, but instead it was just his to savor.

A perfectly played melody synchronized with your voice sounded like an angel singing lullaby accompanied by the gentle noises of its wings swaying in the air.

Unnoticed by him the song finally came to an end, last note leaving the instrument before your finger left the key.

Seconds later the sound of a quiet applause from behind your back stirred you, quickly you turned around on your seat, catching eye contact with your lover.

"Will there finally come a time when you'll stop sneaking up on me when I play?" you teased with not even a hint of irritation in your voice.

"I simply do not wish to disturb your focus, once you're fully into the song you tend to lose yourself in it. I wouldn't dream of breaking that state." his smirk made you let out a quiet giggle.

"Come and join me."

Rafayel

Ain't no prayer, ain't no God that could save us from our love

Ain't no rainfall, ain't no flood that could drown all our sorrow

~ „Lovers In The Dark” Sophie Morelli

★ in a pack with a boyfriend you got yourself a free stylist, well not exactly free, but your payment now are kissed and complements

★ poor Thomas would never hear the end of Raf's ramblings about you... "Rafayel I know that your girlfriend is really really important to you BUT I NEED YOUR ASS TO GET BACK TO PAINTING, WE HAVE CUSTOMERS!" while Rafayel stays in his seat, unbothered, ordering thousands of new designer clothes for you - yeah it's hard to be a manager of such a diva

★ would put his artistic soul to use when you need a new album cover, either would paint something inspired by your song or play your photographer for a bit

★ concerts backstage can get really chaotic sometimes, all sets of hands put to work, making sure that everything will go smoothly - and Rafayel making sure that you look your absolute best (girl fire your stylist at this point)

"Babe who hurt you?" he looked at you looking genuinely terrified.

"Rafayel. It's just an outfit, I'll be fine." your gaze returned to a mirror, trying to believe in your own words.

"JUST AN OUTFIT?! Baby there's absolutely no way I'm letting you on stage in this... Horrible, horrible, piece of fabric." his eyes never left your clothes, his brows drew together in a grimace, half an hour was left before you'll need to wrap everything up and walk out to face the cameras and your fans, he needs to fix the mess your 'stylist' made.

"Can you fix it in twenty minutes?" you asked, the confidence disappearing from your expression, looking at him with a plead. Instantly he moved towards your wardrobe, pulling you after him.

"Give me ten." he signaled for you to take off this outfit while busying himself in the countless clothes, working his art.

He'll be damned if he'll let you leave this room in anything less than gorgeous and fabulous.

He had a mission to fulfill, and your image to protect.

Hours later he waited in your changing room for the people to stop running around you, logging onto his social media to see any new posts about you.

WHO'S THAT DIVA???

DOES SHE LIKE WOMEN TOO? Asking for a friend.

I don't think so, she took her bf on the red carpet last time 😔

WHYYYY, WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS TO STEAL HER FROM US

seeing people just now discovering that she dates Rafayel is wild

WAIT. I JUST GOT TO KNOW THAT SHE'S TAKEN AND NOW YOU'RE TELLING ME SHE DATES THE RAFAYEL??? 😭😭😭

Idk who I am more jealous about...

⬆️⬆️⬆️ literally me

BISEXUAL PANIC 🫡

He chuckled to himself, yeah he won the world the moment you agreed to date him.

Sylus

They say all good boys go to Heaven

But bad boys bring Heaven to you

It's automatic

It's just what they do

~ „Heaven” Julia Michaels

★ mysterious boyfriend pt. 2 - the one and only time when your fans 'saw' him was in one of your mv's, but only his back was visible while you were clinging to his side, at first they thought that it was some random actor but then they saw the same white hair on one of your social media stories and rumors started to fly

★ would give twins the tickets to your concert under the excuse of watching you in case someone came there to hurt you, but in reality it's just because he knows they enjoy your concerts and wants them to have some fun

★ he'll ensure your safety on any kinds of events, not trusting your company to take care of it properly

★ in one interview you mentioned that your partner is absolutely tone-deaf, laughing about it, saying how opposites attract, in another one you said how your partner loves your singing and how they are your biggest supporter and inspiration

You just stepped out of your morning shower, putting on underwear you went to sit down on a stool before the mirror, about to dry your hair and do your morning beauty routine.

With the loud humming of the hair dryer drowning out other noises you began to sing, loudly, thinking that no one will hear it.

Well, you were wrong.

About a minute in you noticed a silhouette standing by the door.

Damn you should really learn to lock it.

"Sylus?" you asked, turning the hair dryer off, watching him through the mirror's reflection.

"Don't mind me sweetheart. I'm just enjoying the show." you turned around to face him with your face expression screaming 'really?', but he remained unbothered, reaching to close the door and right after taking a couple steps your way finding himself right behind you "Allow me."

The hair dryer was gently taken away from your hand, your eyes met his in the mirror, smile threatened to show on your lips, but you still tried to keep up the facade of annoyance.

Yet completely unbothered Sylus began drying your hair, humming a tune in the meantime, a sound that you almost didn't catch.

Seeing his eyes focused on your hair, you closed your own in a relaxed manner, your voice synchronizing with his when you started to hum the well-known melody of the song you wrote for him a long time ago.

A quiet domesticated moment before your long day began was something that you didn't even know you needed today, but were absolutely grateful that it happened. Grateful that you had someone to share this morning with.

Caleb

Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars?

I could really use a wish right now, wish right now, wish right now

~ „Airplanes” B.o.B, Hayley Williams

★ imagine being highschool sweethearts with Caleb, every girl being jealous of you, sending you hateful glances every time they saw you leaning on his arm during a break between the classes, and every guy either congratulating him on dating you or plotting to steal you away from him

★ and in the middle of it all: both of you just didn't care - too busy with admiring the other to notice the jealous looks you received at every corner, every gift given to you by someone else than your lover being either rejected or thrown away

★ everyone knew that you'll go far in life, with his plans about becoming a pilot and your dreams of existing in the music industry, supporting each other in your goals

★ and with another concert bringing a huge echo on the news questions started floating around you; did you have a partner? Well that was a secret no one knew the truth about, with you dodging any question regaining your private life like a pro

The screams and cheering felt like home, you standing with a microphone before thousands of people, feeling like you made it.

Another song starting to play, the show going on, you and your dancers flowlessly navigating through the stage, during one of the quiet moments between the verses, your eyes began scanning the front row, eager to meet one pair of eyes watching you.

And sure enough: among the sea of flashes, phones and signs one immediately caught your eye.

[ Your Wish Is Here 🍎⭐]

A giggle slipped out from your mouth, your mic catching the sound before you moved your face away, cheers erupted from everywhere around you, your eyes met his.

The next words before you came back to singing got an even louder reaction from the crowd.

"All of my wishes came true already." and the lyrics of your song began floating out of your mouth, all the while holding the eye contact with those beautiful violet eyes.

You made it.

Jeremiah

Lilacs for all of the lies

Daisies for days that I cried

I love to watch 'em as they die

Orchids when I want a kiss

All that I need is your tulips on mine

~ „Don't Send Me Flowers” Sorana

★ to say that you were an unexpected match would be an understanding. A humble florist with a worldwide music star? Yeah, maybe in a dreams.

★ your fans knew that you had someone, the smile on your face every time you were asked about your partner was telling them enough, even if your mouth didn't.

★ in reality this match was as if made in Heaven: your radiating kindness together with his calm but sweet demeanor, never before have you had a partner that was so understanding and patient with you

★ the truth as to why you never spoke his name was a mystery, you talked about him so much, they saw you with him every now and then, so why was his name such a high guarded secret?

"So... Are you coming with me for the next tour?" you asked in a hopeful tone, it was a week before the whole thing shall begin, and you had yet to hear an answer from his lips.

Today he texted you that he finally decided, you weren't particularly stressed, if he'll agree then you'll be happy, if he'll refuse then you'll be... well, less happy but still understanding and just slightly sadden by the fact.

The look on his face didn't tell you anything, perfectly calm and composed.

"Well I had a lot of thinking to do, and some work with the documents." his identity creates complications every now and then "And I've decided..." he made a dramatic pause, the hopeful look on your face made his heart throb.

"Well? Tell me! You kept me in the dark for too long Mister!" your expression turned into a fake annoyance, unable to help himself he chuckled.

"I'll come with you." instantly you jumped onto him, almost making you both fall in the process but he managed to steady you in time, damn he's actually kinda strong...

The smile didn't leave either of your faces for the rest of the day, your happiness caused by his agreement and his caused by your joy.

Yeah, a perfect harmony.

Greyson

And every time we touch, boy, you make me feel weak

I can tell you're shy, and I think you're so sweet

Spendin' every night under covers and

Still I wonder, could you fall for a woman like me?

~ „Woman Like Me” Little Mix, Nicki Minaj

★ imagine him being your fan previously to your meeting and relationship, nothing too intense, but he knew you and your music well enough to recognize you

★ now imagine his shock when he randomly saw you sitting at the quiet cafe he often visited after leaving his work, enjoying your favorite drink while occupied by a book lying open before you

★ he tried not to stare, you probably came there to relax and wouldn't wish to be bothered by a fan asking for a photo or autograph, so he tried to go about his day, trying to act like he totally didn't recognize his celebrity crush

★ now imagine his shock when you spoke to him when he was passing by your table, saying that his glasses suit him, a nice compliment turned into an hour spent talking to each other, with him leaving the cafe with an autograph in his notebook, a photo with you hugging him, and your number to top that

"Darling do you know where my Saint Laurent heels are?" he heard your voice coming from the bathroom, probably finishing up your make-up.

Turning off the stove he went to the bedroom, knowing where to look for your (expensive) shoes.

And sure enough: they were there, lying carelessly in the corner of your room, the memories of how they ended up there bringing a blush to his face.

He picked them up, much more carefully than you when you dropped them to the floor, and headed back to give them to you.

Just as he left the bedroom he saw you, standing before the body length mirror put right next to the entrance door, fixing your jewelry.

He took a second to admire you, the way your body looked in your carefully picked outfit, the way your hair looked absolutely perfect and your make-up imitating a professional work.

How did he even got to date you?

Oh, right, he didn't, you picked him, grabbed him by a collar like you would a kitten saying 'This one's mine.' and he just accepted it (gladly).

"Darling? My shoes?" your voice brought him back from a daydream, he met your eyes through the mirror's reflection, a knowing smile formed on your lips.

He rushed towards you, showing you the items in his hands.

"Thank you darling." you kissed his cheek, unknowingly to him leaving a lipstick mark.

You bent to put on the shoes, with him moving away to pick up your purse, handing it to you once you stood up straight.

You took your possession from him and moved your palm to caress his cheek for a second, gracing him with one more smile of yours before turning around and leaving the walls of your shared apartment.

Thomas

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go

I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home

I'll spend forever wondering if you knew

I was enchanted to meet you

~ „Enchanted” Taylor Swift

★ you met him during one of the after parties after a gala that he attended with (instead of) Rafayel, he was sipping nonalcoholic drink, rethinking all of his life choices after another one of artist's runaways from the cameras

★ imagine your drunk ass laughing from something that your friends were saying, unnoticed by you coming too close to a tables put on the higher platform and falling in a way that had you landing right on Thomas's lap

★ it was a start to your love story, you spend an evening together, talking about the industries and random life fun-facts, the night ending in him driving you home and exchanging numbers

★ you were one of the rising stars back then, overworked and underappreciated, you felt like you didn't have a say in your career, everyone deciding for you, even your social media were carefully monitored and you needed an approval from the management before posting anything, that was until Thomas put a stop to it

"You don't understand how much your career costs the company! Your music is better as it is, so leave your little notes in the trash and get back to the studio to work with the professionals." your manager, an old guy whose wife left taking the kids with her, screamed at you on the corridor, right after another long, boring meeting regarding your status in the industry.

"If only they would take a peek at my lyrics maybe it would work for the be-" you tried to argue, but the look he sent you made you quiet down instantly.

"I don't care about your little scribbles." harshly he yanked the papers from your hands, crumpling the paper with his grip "This is trash. Everything you do - is trash. So if you want us not to drop you and your little music career then just stay quiet and do what you're told." you felt the numbness creeping up on you, this isn't what you wanted your life to look like. You saw the old man opening up his mouth to probably let out more insults about you and your work, but another voice interrupted your conversation before he got the chance to continue.

"I'm pretty sure that insulting your artists is against the company's policy." you looked at Thomas, he told you that he'll be at a meeting in your work place today, he probably just finished up with that.

Before your manager could mutter out an excuse Thomas clicked something on his phone, a voice recording started playing, a proof of what happened a moment earlier.

You couldn't help the smile that threatened to show, he had lots of recordings like those actually.

You saw how the colors left your manager's face and knew that you caught him.

You shared a knowing look with Thomas, silently thanking him.

It will all be alright.

Luke & Kieran

Yeah, you fell in love

But you fell deeper in this pit

While death rains from above

So count your blessings 'cause this is it

You're not letting it go

So what if I misbehave? It's what everybody craves

~ „Addict” Michael Kovach, Chi-Chi

★ I hope you're ready for the chaos, because girl you're in for a ride. The amount of support you would get from every single man above but make it double.

★ imagine being a loud, confident, outspoken woman in the industry, rising up high just as a teen, everyone knew who you are, either loving or hating you (you were probably a wake up call for young teens gayness)

★ none of the men could ever handle you, so who could blame you when you got yourself two super sweet and silly boyfriends, breaking a standard once again?

★ your partners were a mystery, people knew about them, sure, but they knew them without ever seeing their faces or knowing their names, the most of the info they got was when a video from the backside of your concert got leaked, showing a cute moment between you and two men, dressed in black comfy clothes covering them whole with a hood dropped over their heads and a masks

"You'll drop me!" your high pinched scream could be heard together with your laugh, and a loud chuckle from one of the two men.

One of them had you dropped over his shoulders, attempting to do a squat with you as his additional weight.

"OMG STOP!" you continued screaming while laughing, clearly having fun.

"Aaaaand..." the other guy followed you two down, cheering up on the man holding you "WE GOT IT!" he screamed when the other man came back to stand after his successful squat without dropping you,

"I'LL KILL YOU TWO!" you playfully tugged on their hair to which they both let out a couple of dramatic 'auw!'s.

The video ended with the camera dropping down and the sound of the three of you laughing,

Safe to say that it made a storm in the media.

I AM SORRFY WHSO ARE THEYD?

THATS WHAT ALL OF US WANT TO KNOW SIS

Well that was not on my 2048 bingo card...

my crush got herself 2 boyfriends and I'm fine with it. *sob*

I have a couple of not really appropriate questions.

*hides a notebook* a couple of whaaaaaat

Okay, so the bisexual Queen got a man. Two men. Chat how are we coping?

*cries into a pillow*

It's a hard day for us girlies out here.

We fight, she's held hostage🤺🤺🤺

OMG I JUST WOKE UP???!!! 🥹😭

293 notes · View notes

domm1etae · 7 months ago

Text

Anytime, Anywhere

welcome to domm1etae's kinktober

day 3 : FREE USE

yunho x f!reader

Yunho and Y/N are in this wild "free use" agreement where Yunho can basically take her whenever he feels like it, no warnings, no heads-up, just whenever he’s in the mood. Y/N loves it too, and it's all about the thrill of not knowing when he'll make a move

nsfw tags under

m/f, top yunho, bottom reader, vaginal sex, rough sex, free use, dominance, possession, dirty talk, power play, manhandling, hair pulling, begging, praise kink, cnc, orgasm denial, neck kissing, and mooore

Requests OPEN! - let me know through the ask button if you have any requests for this Kinktober

author's note: the more u read this, the better it gets;)

navigation | kinktober masterlist

Y/N stood at the sink, the warm water running over the dishes as she scrubbed away, completely absorbed in her task. The scent of soap mingled with the faint aroma of the dinner they had just shared, a comfortable evening routine that she loved. The familiar clink of dishes resonated in the cozy kitchen, creating a soothing atmosphere. But the peaceful moment was about to be disrupted.

“Y/N,” Yunho called from the living room, his voice playful yet laced with a hint of mischief. “I hope you’re not too busy to play.”

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head as she tried to suppress a grin. “What do you think I am, a robot? I can multitask, you know.” She turned to face him, wiping her hands on a dish towel, her heart fluttering at the playful tone in his voice.

“Multitasking? Is that what you call washing dishes while I’m here getting all hot and bothered?” Yunho’s tone was teasing, and she could see the way his eyes sparkled with mischief as he approached the kitchen, his movements languid yet purposeful.

Y/N turned slightly, glancing over her shoulder, and caught a glimpse of Yunho leaning against the doorframe. He looked absolutely irresistible, dressed in a simple black tank top and lounge shorts that hugged his thighs perfectly. The way his muscles rippled as he shifted slightly sent a rush of heat through her. “Maybe you should do the dishes instead then,” she replied with a smirk, trying to hold her ground.

“Or,” he said, stepping closer, his voice dropping an octave, “I could just use you as my distraction.”

Her heart raced at his suggestion, a playful challenge flickering in her mind. “And how exactly would that work? I have important dishes to wash,” she replied, pretending to be serious as she picked up another plate.

“Important? I don’t think so. Look at you, all focused and pretty,” Yunho countered, stepping closer until he was almost flush against her back. The warmth of his body sent shivers down her spine. “Don’t you want to have some fun?”

Y/N turned slightly, catching his gaze and feeling a thrill at the intensity in his eyes. “Fun, huh? I suppose it could be more fun than scrubbing these dishes,” she said, her voice teasing.

“Exactly. Life is too short to spend it washing dishes, don’t you think?” His lips curled into a mischievous smile, and her heart raced in response.

Before she could even finish her sentence, Yunho was upon her, his hands gripping her hips and pulling her back against him. She gasped, the sudden warmth of his body against hers sending her pulse racing. “Y/N, I can’t help it. You’re just so irresistible,” he murmured, his breath hot against her ear.

A shiver ran down her spine as she felt his warm breath caress her skin. “Yunho—”

But before she could articulate her thoughts, he yanked her shorts down, exposing her to the cool air of the kitchen. She gasped again, this time in shock, the sudden chill sending shivers down her spine. “Keep washing,” he commanded, voice deep and gravelly, as he pushed into her from behind.

Y/N stifled a moan, gripping the counter tightly as the sensation of him filling her sent shockwaves through her body. “Yunho, this is so—”

“Just like that. Keep your hands busy,” Yunho said, his breath hot against her neck, his tone playful yet authoritative.

“Yunho, I—”

“No excuses. Just let me use you.” His thrusts were deliberate and steady, each movement igniting a fire within her that was impossible to ignore. With every push, Yunho’s hands gripped her hips tighter, anchoring her to him as he filled her deeply, his veiny member stretching her in ways that sent waves of pleasure coursing through her body. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the kitchen, blending with the sound of running water.

Y/N could hardly focus on the dishes in front of her, the soapy bubbles slipping through her fingers as she struggled to keep washing. Each thrust pulled a moan from her lips, and she found herself losing the battle against the overwhelming sensations washing over her. Her heart raced, and her breathing quickened, each thrust making it harder to concentrate on anything other than the pleasure surging through her.

“Yunho, this is so—” she gasped, her words trailing off as he spanked her lightly, the sharp sting sending shockwaves of excitement through her.

“Just like that. Keep your hands busy,” Yunho said, his breath hot against her neck, his tone playful yet authoritative, the rhythm of his thrusts becoming more urgent.

Y/N stifled another moan, gripping the counter tightly as the heat coiled tighter within her. She couldn't help but let a small whimper escape as the sensations took hold. “Yunho, I—”

“No excuses. Just let me use you.” His thrusts deepened, the pleasure almost unbearable as he filled her completely, making her feel like she was floating. She was acutely aware of every sensation—the way her body reacted to him, how the pressure built with each thrust, and the delicious ache that settled deep within her core.

“Yunho, I can’t—” she breathed, feeling the heat of her impending climax building with each deliberate stroke.

“You’re so naughty,” she murmured, unable to hold back her moans as he pushed her closer to the edge.

“You love it,” he countered, his grip tightening on her hips as he increased his pace, his movements becoming more fervent. “Tell me how much you love it.”

“Yunho, I—”

“Say it!” he growled, the intensity in his voice making her breath hitch.

“I love it when you use me like this!” Y/N cried out, her voice rising as pleasure coursed through her veins.

“Good girl,” Yunho groaned, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he neared his release. “I’m going to fill you up, okay?”

“Yes, please,” she begged, her voice desperate and breathy.

With one final, deep thrust, Yunho came inside her, filling her full of his load. The sensation left her breathless, her knees trembling as the aftershocks of pleasure rippled through her. She leaned heavily against the counter, trying to regain her composure, but the remnants of his touch lingered, making it impossible to focus on the dishes in front of her.

Yunho pulled out almost immediately, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he watched her struggle to process what had just happened. “See? I told you this would be more fun than washing dishes,” he teased, leaning against the counter beside her.

“Now clean up,” he said, a smirk playing on his lips as he stepped back, leaving her standing there, wanting more.

“Just like that?” Y/N protested, half-amused and half-annoyed, turning to face him fully, the water still running in the sink. “What about me?”

“Clean up first, and then we can discuss some… arrangements,” he replied, his tone suggestive, raising an eyebrow as he leaned against the kitchen counter.

“What arrangements?” she asked, feigning innocence as she turned off the water and dried her hands on the dish towel.

Yunho stepped closer again, leaning down to whisper in her ear, “Free use, Y/N. I want to be able to use you whenever I want, wherever we are.”

Her heart raced at the suggestion, the thrill of it sparking something deep within her. “You really think I’d agree to that?”

He pulled back slightly to meet her gaze, his eyes gleaming with determination. “Oh, I know you will. Just imagine it: anytime, anywhere. You’ll be mine to use. It’ll be fun.”

“Fun, huh?” Y/N mused, biting her lip as she considered it. “And what if I say no?”

Yunho stepped even closer, his body inches from hers, the heat radiating off him. “What if I just make you say yes?”

Her breath hitched in her throat, excitement flooding her. “Is that a challenge?”

He grinned, a devilish glint in his eyes. “It could be. But I’d prefer to think of it as a promise.”

“Alright, you win. Free use it is,” Y/N conceded, her heart racing at the prospect of what was to come.

“Good girl,” Yunho said, his voice low and satisfied as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Now, let’s see what else we can do in this kitchen.”

With a newfound energy coursing through her, Y/N smirked back at him, a devilish glint in her eyes. “What are you waiting for? I’m right here.”

Yunho’s gaze darkened, and he stepped closer again, his hands finding her waist as he pressed her back against the counter. “Oh, I plan to make the most of this, believe me,” he murmured, his lips brushing against hers for just a moment before pulling away, leaving her wanting more.

“Yunho…” she whispered, her heart racing with anticipation.

“Yes?” he asked, feigning innocence as he stepped back, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Don’t tease me,” she warned, a playful frown on her face. “You can’t just leave me hanging like this.”

He chuckled, the sound low and rich, as he stepped closer once again. “Oh, but where’s the fun in that? You said you wanted to agree to free use, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“Exactly. So, why don’t we start practicing?” he suggested, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

Before she could respond, Yunho surged forward, capturing her lips in a fierce kiss. Y/N melted against him, her hands instinctively finding their way to his hair as she pulled him closer. Their kiss deepened, and she felt the familiar heat building between them once more.

Yunho broke the kiss, breathing heavily as he rested his forehead against hers. “You see? I’m just getting started. You have no idea how many times I’ve fantasized about this—using you while you’re doing something mundane, making you forget everything else.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed at his words, a mix of embarrassment and excitement swirling within her. “You’re unbelievable,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Maybe. But you love it,” he replied, his hands sliding down to her thighs, lifting her slightly to sit on the edge of the counter.

“Yunho, what if someone walks in?” she asked, glancing towards the living room, the thought of being caught sending a thrill through her.

“Then they’ll just have to deal with it,” he said confidently, his hands gripping her waist as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her neck. “Besides, the thrill of being caught just adds to the excitement, don’t you think?”

She gasped at his touch, feeling her body respond instinctively. “You’re something else,” she breathed, her fingers tangling in his hair as he continued to kiss down her neck.

“Something else? Maybe. But you love every second of it.”

ANOTHER TIME

Y/N was sprawled comfortably on the couch, the soft fabric enveloping her as she absentmindedly scrolled through her phone, a soft smile playing on her lips. The afternoon sunlight streamed in through the window, casting a warm glow across the room. She was lost in the digital world when the front door swung open, and in walked Yunho, still drenched in sweat from his intense workout.

He paused just inside the door, shaking his head slightly as if to clear it, his hair sticking to his forehead. His tank top clung to his body, showcasing the muscles that had been put to work just moments before. As he caught sight of Y/N lounging on the couch, a smirk broke across his face, and his eyes darkened with a mixture of desire and mischief.

“Y/N,” he breathed out, his voice thick with exhaustion yet laced with an unmistakable hunger.

She glanced up, a teasing grin forming. “Hey, Mr. Fitness. You look like you could use a shower.”

But before she could finish her sentence, Yunho closed the distance between them in a matter of strides, his movements quick and determined. He hovered over her for just a moment, eyes locking onto hers, and in that instant, Y/N felt her heart race. There was no time for witty banter; he had other plans.

With a swift motion, he pushed her legs apart and slid between them, the heat radiating from his body engulfing her. His hands were suddenly on her, fingers deftly tugging at her clothes, brushing them aside with an urgency that sent a thrill of excitement coursing through her veins.

“Yunho—” she started, a mixture of surprise and playful protest in her voice, but it was cut short as he captured her waist, lifting her slightly to settle her against the couch.

“Just relax,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin as he leaned in closer. The scent of sweat mingled with the lingering smell of his cologne, intoxicating and raw. Y/N’s body responded instinctively to his closeness, and any words of resistance faded away.

In one fluid motion, he found his way inside her, and Y/N gasped at the sudden fullness. The air in the room seemed to thicken with the intensity of the moment. Yunho didn’t waste time; he began to thrust into her with a primal urgency, each movement deliberate and powerful. Y/N clutched the couch, her fingers digging into the fabric as she surrendered to the sensations washing over her.

“Yunho,” she managed to gasp, but it was more a moan than a coherent thought. He simply continued his relentless pace, losing himself in the rhythm of their bodies. The living room filled with the sound of flesh meeting flesh, the soft squeaks of the couch beneath them, and Y/N's breathy gasps.

Her world narrowed down to the sensation of him moving inside her, the way he filled her completely, taking without asking, just as they both liked it. His hands were firm on her hips, guiding her, controlling the way they moved together.

Y/N couldn’t help but let her body arch towards him, craving more of his heat. The intensity built with every thrust, her breath quickening as pleasure spiraled in the pit of her stomach. Yunho’s gaze locked onto hers, his expression fierce yet focused, completely consumed by the moment.

“God, you feel so good,” he groaned, his voice low and gravelly, but there was no question in his tone—he was claiming her, using her for his pleasure, and it made her feel exhilarated and wanted.

She wanted to respond, to tell him how much she loved this, but all that escaped her lips were whimpers and moans as he drove deeper, his thrusts growing more frantic. The world around them faded into nothingness; there was only this, only them.

As he felt himself nearing the edge, he leaned down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss that stole the breath from her lungs. The taste of sweat and desire mingled between them, fueling the fire of their connection.

With one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside her and came, a low growl escaping his lips as he filled her, their bodies trembling together. The heat of his release enveloped her, and she could only cling to him, lost in the aftershocks of their passionate encounter.

Yunho pulled back slightly, panting as he looked down at her, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. “That’s better than any cooldown routine,” he chuckled, still breathless.

Y/N laughed softly, her cheeks flushed, but before she could say anything else, Yunho was already stepping back, leaving her breathless and wanting more. “Now, I think I’ll take that shower,” he said playfully, winking at her as he turned to head toward the bathroom.

Y/N shook her head, a smile still on her lips, knowing full well this was just the beginning of their new agreement on free use.

ANOTHER DAY

“No, sir.” Y/N’s voice rings with frustration as she types furiously on her keyboard. “Yes, I did submit the report already. I even emailed the final version to you last night around 8 PM.”

Y/N is currently on a video call with her boss, who is located in another country. The camera captures her professional demeanor, a neatly styled blouse enhancing her look while keeping her comfortable in the privacy of her home office. Below the desk, she’s wearing nothing but a pair of lace panties, making it difficult to maintain her focus.

Just as she finishes speaking, she hears the sound of a door creaking open behind her. Her heart skips a beat; she knows exactly who it is.

Yunho enters, his gaze immediately locking onto her. He’s freshly showered, droplets of water still glistening on his skin, a towel draped around his waist. Y/N’s breath hitches as he approaches her, a wicked smile playing on his lips. She quicky turns off her camera and mutes herself.

“Y/N,” he whispers, leaning in close enough for her to feel his warm breath against her neck, “you look so focused. Isn’t it time for a little break?”

Y/N glances at her laptop, her boss still droning on about project details. “I can’t! I have deadlines to meet,” she insists, trying to sound serious even as her body betrays her, yearning for Yunho’s touch.

But Yunho isn’t deterred. He moves closer, brushing his fingers along her shoulder, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Come on, you know you want this. Just a quick moment to remind you how much I love to use you.”

She bites her lip, trying to resist, but he’s already sliding his hand under the desk, fingers brushing against her thigh. The contact sends a jolt of electricity through her, and she fights to stay composed. “Yunho, I really can’t…”

“Your boss doesn’t need to know, does he?” Yunho smirks, and before she can respond, he pulls her panties aside, his mouth moving against her. She should have worn pants, not only her panties, even tho, she is at home.

“Yunho!” she gasps, her voice a mixture of surprise and pleasure. Her body instinctively arches toward him, wanting more. The sounds of her boss's voice fade into the background as she gets lost in the sensations.

He licks and sucks, drawing soft moans from her lips that she desperately tries to stifle. “Mmm, that’s it. Just like that. Let me take care of you, sweetheart.”

“Y/N?” her boss's voice breaks through the haze. “Are you there? You’re muted.”

“I—uh…” Y/N stammers, heart racing, desperate to maintain some semblance of professionalism as Yunho continues his teasing. He’s relentless, his mouth moving expertly against her, sending waves of pleasure crashing through her.

“Everything okay?” her boss asks, a hint of concern in his tone.

“Just… a moment!” she manages to reply, her voice trembling as Yunho intensifies his efforts, sending her spiraling toward ecstasy. “I’m—”

“Perfect,” he murmurs against her, his lips pressing against her skin as he gives one last fervent lick. “Let’s make this quick, then.”

Y/N gasps, the pleasure building to an unbearable peak. “Yunho, I—”

“Just let go, Y/N,” he urges, his voice dripping with lust as he continues his ministrations. “You’re my toy, remember? Just let me use you.”

The world around her blurs as she surrenders to the wave of pleasure crashing over her. “Yes, Yunho, please…” she breathes, finally succumbing to the moment.

As her body tenses and she feels herself on the brink of release, Yunho suddenly pulls back, teasing her as he wipes his mouth with a smug grin. “Not yet, baby. You need to keep it together for your boss.”

“Yunho!” she cries out, frustration mixing with the desire that still courses through her. “I can’t—”

“Don’t worry,” he whispers, brushing his fingers against her thigh as he leans back in. “I’ll give you something to think about while you finish your call.”

Y/N’s breath hitches, a mix of anticipation and desperation as she watches him, her mind racing with the thrill of being so exposed. She tries to refocus on her laptop, but Yunho’s presence is overwhelming, his teasing touches setting her on fire.

Her boss’s voice breaks through the haze again. “Y/N? Are you sure everything is alright? You’ve been muted for a while.”

“Y-yes, sir! Everything is fine!” she stutters, barely holding onto her composure as Yunho nips at her thigh, sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through her.

“Great,” her boss says, and Y/N knows she should focus on the call, but all she can think about is how Yunho has completely derailed her.

Yunho smirks, clearly enjoying the situation, and leans in closer, whispering, “You’re doing so well, just remember you’re my toy. I can use you whenever I want.”

With that, he stands up, leaving her breathless and eager for more as she tries to compose herself and refocus on the call, the tension thick in the air.

ANOTHER DAY

The warm water cascaded over Y/N as she stood under the showerhead, the steam enveloping her in a comforting haze. She had taken the time to unwind after a long day, enjoying the soothing sensation of the water against her skin. The bathroom was filled with the fresh scent of her favorite body wash, a hint of lavender that mixed with the steam.

Just as she leaned against the tiles, closing her eyes to relish the moment, she heard the bathroom door creak open. She turned, surprised, and found Yunho stepping into the shower, fully clothed and drenched in water.

“Yunho!” she exclaimed, laughter bubbling up in her throat. “What are you doing? You’re disturbing my alone time!”

He stepped closer, the water glistening off his toned body. A playful smirk spread across his face, his dark hair sticking to his forehead. “Alone time? With me around?” he teased, his voice low and teasing. “I think not.”

Before she could protest further, he closed the distance between them, pinning her against the cool, slick tiles of the shower wall. The sudden movement stole the breath from her lungs, but instead of fear, a thrill raced through her. “You belong to me,” he murmured, his eyes darkening with desire.

Y/N’s heart raced as she felt the heat radiating from his body. “And what if I want to be alone?” she challenged, raising an eyebrow.

Yunho chuckled softly, brushing a damp strand of hair away from her face. “Not a chance,” he whispered before leaning down to capture her lips in a searing kiss.

Their mouths moved together hungrily, the kiss igniting a fire within her. He pulled back slightly, his breath mingling with hers, and then he captured her gaze, his eyes smoldering with intensity. “You know the rules, babe. Free use means I can take you whenever I want.”

Y/N bit her lip, a mixture of anticipation and excitement flooding her senses. “You’re right,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Without warning, Yunho dipped his head, trailing his lips down her neck and across her collarbone. She gasped, the sensation electrifying as he explored her skin with his mouth. His hands roamed over her body, tracing her curves as he made his way down to her thighs.

“Yunho, we’re in the shower…” she started, but the words fell short as he knelt before her, his fingers teasing the edges of her body.

“I know exactly where we are,” he replied, looking up at her with that cocky grin that always made her weak in the knees. “And I intend to enjoy it.”

With that, he wasted no time, his mouth on her, his tongue skillfully working to bring her to the edge. Y/N's head fell back against the tiles as pleasure coursed through her. She tangled her fingers in his hair, urging him on as he licked and sucked, driving her wild.

“Yunho, please,” she moaned, her legs shaking with the intensity of it all. “I—”

He pulled away just as she felt herself teetering on the edge. “I know what you want, but I’m not done playing yet,” he said, his breath hot against her skin.

“Yunho, you can’t just—” she started, but he silenced her with a finger pressed to her lips, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“Just trust me,” he whispered before standing up, his hands still gripping her waist tightly. “Let’s get back to you.”

As he turned the water temperature a little hotter, he took the shampoo bottle and squirted some into his palm. “Now, let me wash your hair.”

He gently massaged the shampoo into her scalp, his fingers working through her hair with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the possessiveness he had just displayed. Y/N leaned into his touch, relishing the softer moments between their heated encounters.

“See? I can be sweet too,” Yunho said with a playful smile as he rinsed her hair.

“Sweet? You didn't even let me finish!” she laughed, feeling blissfully content in this moment.

He laughed, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “That was what I wanted, baby.”

“And why is that exactly?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“So that I can fuck you like an animal after this shower.”

ANOTHER DAY

The late afternoon sun filtered through the glass panels of the apartment building as Y/N stepped into the elevator, her heels clicking softly against the floor. She was exhausted from a long day at work, the weight of deadlines and meetings lingering on her mind. The elevator doors slid shut, and she sighed, leaning against the wall as she waited for the familiar descent to her floor.

Just as she turned to press the button, the elevator jolted slightly, and she glanced up to find Yunho stepping in right before the doors closed. His presence filled the small space, an electric energy sparking between them. He flashed her that signature smirk that always sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he said casually, leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed, his toned physique accentuated by his fitted shirt.

“Hey,” Y/N replied, trying to keep her voice steady despite the rush of heat that crept up her neck. “I thought you were still at the gym.”

“Just finished up and figured I’d catch you before you got home,” he said, taking a step closer as the elevator lurched downward. The sudden movement made her heart race, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was going to be a moment she wouldn’t forget.

Before she could respond, the elevator came to an abrupt halt, and Yunho seized the opportunity. He stepped closer, his breath warm against her skin. “You know,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

Y/N felt a flutter of nervousness as she shifted slightly, trying to maintain some distance. “Yunho, what are you doing? The doors could open any second.”

He chuckled softly, leaning in even closer, his hand brushing against her waist. “Relax. It’ll be quick,” he assured her, that devilish smirk still playing on his lips.

“Quick? Like how quick?” she stammered, her heart racing with both excitement and anxiety.

“Just trust me,” he said, his fingers trailing down her side, igniting a trail of warmth. The gentle touch sent shivers coursing through her body, and she found herself leaning into him, despite her reservations. “You’re my favorite distraction.”

Before she could protest further, he captured her lips in a searing kiss. The world outside faded away, and for a moment, it was just the two of them, the tension and thrill of being caught up in this stolen moment heightening every sensation. She felt herself melt against him, the kiss deepening as his hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer.

Y/N gasped as Yunho’s hands slid beneath her blouse, fingers teasingly brushing over her skin, sending jolts of electricity through her. He moved with deliberate slowness, allowing her to feel every touch. His fingers found the hem of her shirt, inching it up until they could access the warm skin of her stomach.

“You’re so soft,” he murmured against her lips, his voice husky with desire as he trailed kisses along her jawline and down to her neck. The sensation of his warm mouth against her skin made her shiver, a mix of pleasure and anticipation building within her.

He pressed his lips against her neck, sucking gently, and she instinctively tilted her head back, giving him better access. The combination of his lips and the soft pressure of his fingers rubbing circles around her waist made her dizzy with need. “Yunho,” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper as she felt her body responding to his every touch.

His hands roamed further, fingers finding the delicate lace of her bra, teasing the edges before moving higher. With a deft motion, he unhooked it, exposing her to his hungry gaze. She bit her lip to suppress a moan as his fingers found her erect nipple, rubbing slow, tantalizing circles that sent waves of pleasure radiating through her.

Y/N squirmed slightly, both from the exquisite sensation and the very real threat of being caught. “Yunho, what if someone comes?” she managed to gasp, her eyes fluttering shut as he continued to play with her, the tension of the moment making it all the more intoxicating.

“Then we’ll just have to be quick, won’t we?” he said, pulling back slightly to look into her eyes, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

“Yunho—”

Before she could finish her thought, he captured her mouth again, deepening the kiss as his hands worked their magic. He shifted his attention from her nipple to her inner thigh, fingers trailing up beneath her skirt, teasing her just where she needed it most.

She moaned softly, her body betraying her protests as he caressed her through her lace panties, the friction sending spirals of pleasure coursing through her. He looked up at her, his eyes dark with desire, as he applied just the right amount of pressure.

“You like that, don’t you?” he murmured, voice thick with lust. “You’re my favorite little cum toy, and I can use you whenever I want.”

Y/N felt a rush of heat flood her cheeks at his words, a mixture of embarrassment and thrill running through her. “Yunho, we can’t,” she said weakly, though the way her body was responding was betraying her words.

His finger slipped beneath the fabric of her panties, finding her slickness. “See? You’re already ready for me,” he teased, rubbing in slow, teasing circles.

As the elevator remained still, every second felt like an eternity. She could hardly think straight with the way he was touching her, and as the pressure built, she felt herself edging closer to release. Just when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore, he suddenly stopped, pulling back with a wicked grin.

“Yunho!” she gasped, frustration mingling with desire as he withdrew his hand, leaving her breathless.

He chuckled, a low, teasing sound that sent a thrill down her spine. “What’s wrong? I thought you wanted to play,” he said, casually straightening his clothes, as if nothing had happened.

Y/N could hardly process what just occurred, her heart racing and body still humming with need. The elevator doors suddenly dinged, and she quickly composed herself, smoothing down her skirt as the doors slid open.

“Yunho!” she protested, her voice a mix of disbelief and excitement.

He stepped out confidently, glancing back at her with that infuriatingly charming smile. “You’ll thank me later,” he said, walking away as if nothing had happened.

ANOTHER TIME

Y/N was busy cleaning up the kitchen after a long week. She hummed softly to herself, wiping down the counters and putting away the last of the dishes. Their friends were set to arrive any minute for a casual hangout, and she wanted everything to be perfect. Little did she know, Yunho had other plans in mind.

As she bent down to grab the last dish from the bottom of the sink, she felt a warm presence behind her. Before she could even turn around, Yunho slipped up close, his body pressing against hers.

“Hey there,” he murmured, a teasing lilt to his voice that sent a shiver down her spine. “Looks like you’re busy.”

“Just cleaning,” Y/N replied, trying to focus on her task even as her heart raced. “You know, the usual before our guests arrive.”

“Oh, I don’t think we’ll have time for that,” Yunho said, and before she could protest, he slid his hands down her sides, fingers trailing over her hips and teasingly pushing her skirt up.

“What are you doing?” she asked, half-excited and half-nervous. The thrill of being caught lingered in the back of her mind.

“Just reminding you how much you love being used,” he said, his breath hot against her ear as he positioned himself behind her. She gasped as she felt him press against her, the hard length of him making her pulse quicken.

“Yunho,” she protested weakly, but he simply shushed her with a teasing smile, his hands now gripping her waist firmly.

In one swift motion, he pulled her skirt up over her hips, exposing her bare skin. “Just a quick one, I promise,” he said, his voice low and sultry as he rubbed his cock against her slick entrance.

A soft moan escaped her lips as he pressed against her, teasing her with his veiny dick for just a moment before finally pushing inside. The sudden fullness took her breath away, and she gripped the edge of the sink, her knuckles whitening as he filled her completely.

“God, you’re so tight,” Yunho grunted, and Y/N couldn’t help but moan in response. The sensation was overwhelming, pleasure coursing through her as he began to thrust slowly, taking his time to let her feel every inch of him.

“What if they hear?” she gasped, the thrill of the moment sending waves of heat throughout her body.

“They won’t,” he assured her, voice dripping with confidence. “Just focus on how good it feels.”

As he picked up the pace, his hands gripped her waist tighter, fingers digging into her soft skin, leaving imprints as he thrust harder. Yunho's fingers slid up her torso, finding her breasts and pinching her hardened nipples roughly, making her gasp.

“Yunho!” she cried, both in pleasure and shock at how possessively he was treating her body. It hurt, but the pain mixed with pleasure only heightened her arousal.

“Keep those pretty sounds coming,” he instructed, his voice low and commanding. “I want to hear how much you love it.”

His lips trailed down to her neck, sucking and biting, leaving dark marks against her skin. The mixture of pain and pleasure sent shockwaves through her, and Y/N felt herself getting lost in the sensations.

Yunho pulled her hair back, exposing her neck even more as he continued to thrust into her. “You like being used like this, don’t you?” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. “You were made for it.”

“Yunho, please,” she whimpered, feeling herself on the edge. “I can’t hold back anymore.”

“Not yet,” he growled, the determination in his voice sending shivers down her spine. He pulled back slightly, only to slam back into her with renewed vigor, making her cry out in pleasure.

“I want to feel you fall apart around me,” he said, his thrusts relentless.

“Shit, I’m so close,” she managed to gasp, her body tightening around him.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Let go for me.”

With a final thrust, Yunho buried himself deep inside her, and she came undone, her body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over her.

“Fuck!” he groaned, feeling her clench around him as she reached her peak. The sensation sent him over the edge, and he spilled himself deep inside her, filling her completely.

Y/N leaned against the sink, breathless and panting, a mixture of satisfaction and exhilaration coursing through her. She felt him pull out slowly, and panic surged through her as she realized the mess they had made.

“Yunho, they’re going to be here any minute!” she exclaimed, scrambling to fix her clothes and regain some semblance of composure.

He smirked, casually adjusting his shirt. “Relax. Just act natural,” he said, a cocky grin on his face. “They’ll never suspect a thing.”

As the doorbell rang, Y/N quickly wiped the countertop, her heart racing. She couldn’t help but glance over at Yunho, who was already striding confidently toward the door, the look of mischief still dancing in his eyes.

“Best boyfriend award definitely goes to Yunho.” she thought.

796 notes · View notes

bunny-jpeg · 7 months ago

Text

the sun's lullaby & the moon's symphony

max verstappen

cw: smut/pwp, rivals au, photography, snark & sass, enemies to lovers (i guess), parental issues, secret relationship, talks of marriage & children, cowgirl position, admissions of love, long fic

this bunny runs on comments, reblog & tags! do you part to feed the bunny! (this was a thrill to write, i've been writing a lot of rivals au, so feel free to suggest your own! i also still have my bakery series going on, so feel free to order up. love ya'll)

this all started when you were teens. stubborn and stupid. the two prodigies of racing of two different stories. the moon, who was raised from birth to be the god of racing. and the sun, who emerged from nothing and up towards the sky to claim her rightful spot as a champion of the track.

the sun and the moon. you and max verstappen

so when you shared your first kiss with him at sixteen over a stolen a bottle of wine from your parent's fridge. you knew that you'd be forever link to the other driver.

it was over dinner in monaco, the lighting of the place was low. and max was seated across from you. occasionally his foot would rub up against your ankle.

you looked at him over the glass of wine in your hand, "you're not going to make me say it."

he smiled as he swallowed his bite of food, "why, prefer to tell me in private?" belgium was a great weekend for him, opposed to you. max sailed into second while you dragged behind in eighth.

but even at dinner, you'd never give the red bull driver the benefit, you'd rather have your bones wrung out of you like liquid in a rag than admit that max was good at racing. that would be the final pump of his ego that he'd go sailing away.

you put your glass down and rested your chin on your interlocked fingers, "maxie." you fluttered your eyelashes at him, "maybe if you came in first, i'd actually have something to congratulate you on." you reached across the small table and touched the inside of his wrist, you looked at the part of exposed flesh then to his face once more. you pouted at him, "second is the first place of losers."

he gave you a sarcastic smile before he took his wrist away, "and what about you, i thought you were supposed to be the rabbit on the track. out racing all of us. i guess daddy's money can only buy so much talent."

"you're a fucking dick, verstappen."

he shrugged, "and yet, you can't get enough of me. a glutton for punishment you are." his eyebrows knitted together as he frowned for a moment, "i think you're just trying to find daddy's approval, except that fucker won't give it to you. just like you won't give me what i want." he reached for you and cupped the side of your face. it was moments like these you remembered how big his hands were, "break the cycle, rabbit. be a good girl."

you pulled away from him, you heard the shutter of a camera and you both looked over. you grimaced, perfect. another photo to the collection of you and max in compromising positions. without context you looked like a pair on a date. you could already read out the statement you'd have to make if this all got a little too big.

you kicked max under the table, "good job, dickhead." your voice was painfully low.

he kicked you back, but not as hard, "you started it."

this night would end the same. the photo would go semi-viral. you'd have to lay low on social media for a few days. wash, rinse, repeat when you two eventually fuck up again. and like every other dinner together, it ended up with you two in his bed. those broad hands all over your back as you rode him. you held his face and looked down at him as you bounced your hips.

photographic evidence of you two together were vast, spanning close to ten years at that point. you both met in your carting days, with promises to make it to formula one. the photos only got more intense once you both entered the league.

they ranged from the two of you at a party together, or sneaking out a club holding hands. there was one of you on his boat, handing him a drink and what looked like him kissing you on the cheek. there were tons of his arm around you and your face buried in his broad chest. over the years the "evidence" had been piling up to suggest that you two were a couple.

if that was true, then why did you want to strangle max verstappen?

you stalked towards his driver's room after the dutch grand prix and opened the door without knocking. you felt fury in your bones as he looked at you. you put your hands on his throat and got close up into his face.

"you fucking asshole, you really are the devil aren't you, max?" you snapped. you weren't choking him, but rather holding him as a sign of dominance.

he grabbed your wrists and said, "and you're going to kill me now? i didn't think choking was your style." then pulled your hands away from his throat, "people might get the wrong idea if you start leaving marks."

"you ran me off the track. you knew what you were doing when you cut me off like that. you think you're so slick there, verstappen. is it because you're old man was there? wanted to show off to the pathetic excuse of a driver! fuck you, max. i didn't need the dnf because you needed to be a show off to daddy dearest, you piece of shit!" you knew you were just ranting, you sounded like a rambling mess but you wanted to win this.

through your rambling, he leaned in and kissed you on the lips, he didn't move when you tried to hit him in the chest. when he pulled away he held you by the back of the head, "it's all part of the game. you told me you'd rather be flayed than have me go easy on you. i'm treating you like every other driver. don't get mad."

you took a heavy breath before you pulled him in and kissed him on the mouth once more. he smirked against the kiss and wrapped his arms around you tightly. he held you close to him as you passionately made out with him.

when you pulled away, he said, "feel better now?"

you gripped onto the front of his shirt and deeply exhaled, "i could kill you and get away with it." then looked at him. his blue eyes always seemed to stare right into your soul. because maybe you two were bound by your souls, meant to exist in each other's orbit until the day you die.

he loosely kept his arms around you waist and pressed his forehead up against you, "i know. and i'd happily die by your hand." when he was tender like this, you wanted to bite his head off. but instead you simply let him hold you.

"you're an ass, verstappen." you muttered as you clung to the front of his uniform, "i hate that you know me so well and can get under my skin so easily."

he chuckled and held you closer, "i'm pretty sure you can map out every scar on my body and where i got it."

"like that time i accidentally stabbed you in the rib with a corkscrew." you said.

he nodded, "yeah and that time i fell down your stairs at your old home and you, me and charles had to figure out if my foot was broken."

you looked up at him and pressed your chin against his chest to look up at his face, "you really should've gone to the doctor for that. like two of your toes were purple."

"i lived." he then held you face for a brief moment before there was a knock on the door and you two stepped back from one another. he patted you on the arm before he shuffled you to the couch to act more casual than what you were just doing.

at least no one took any photos of you moment of romantic intimacy. in all fairness, what photos the press had of the two of you. was nothing compared to the photos max personally had of the two of you. everything from you in his driver's suit with nothing underneath (and the zipper open), to videos of you giving him head. he even had a video you took of him eating you out.

max had mapped every inch of skin with his lips and tongue over the years. from the plane of your back to behind your ear, the back of your knee and in between your legs. he could probably trace your body from memory with his lips. there was a likely chance you could do the same about him.

it continued on into the last night in the netherlands. the room max was staying in was lovely. you assumed only the best for the country's golden boy. you had come over after dinner and max was more than happy to see you.

you were seated by the big window with your feet propped up against the window ledge. in your hand was a glass of wine and you felt content watching the city go by as night hung in the sky. max was in the shower, so you were keeping yourself company.

you heard the shower turn off and you put the glass of wine down on the window ledge before he came out. even now, seeing max's cock made you look away to preserve some modesty.

you hoped that your expression didn't give it away. as he walked out naked with him rubbing the towel in his hair. to see him so exposed made your heart jump.

"like what you see?" he asked. he went over to the bed and got onto it, "i'm sorry for keeping you waiting."

you shot him a look, "i can't believe you convinced me to do this. is this a way for you to inflate your ego even more? you won this race and now you want to stick your cock in the one you drove off the track! and you didn't even get punished for it!" you wanted to stop your foot like a child out of sheer anger.

he chuckled, "well, you're free to come and go. i'm not forcing you to do anything... i certainly didn't force you to wear that dress either." his gaze on you was hot and it made you more flustered.

"i wanted something i could replace if you tore it." never forget when you had to replace your driving suit because someone got a good hold of it and ripped it at the seams around your pussy and ass.

call max impatient, it wasn't like your team couldn't afford it. if they couldn't he could always make room for you at red bull. he had to look after you.

"then i suggest you take it off before i start getting my hands on you." he spread his legs a little wider on the bed. the towel was on the floor to be hung up later, "last chance, my treasure. i want to hear you say it... you want me."

you reached behind you to get the zipper down. you'd rather die, but his heated gaze was enticing. you instead replied, "i want to ride you max, i want you under me as i fuck the daylights out of you. it is not a want, it is a need."

max barked out a laughter, "always so poetic." then licked his lips when you stepped out of the dress you wore. letting it grow wrinkled on the floor. it was followed by the expensive matching pair of bra and panties.

"did i buy that for you?" he asked curiously. he prone to sending you gifts in the off-season. while the rest of the drivers got joke gifts between each other. max always handed you something with a price tag that would make most gawk at.

you looked down at the matching set. you shrugged, "i honestly couldn't tell you. the brand it italian so, maybe it was a gift from charles." you made a face as you thought about it. it was all a lie, it was obviously from max.

the idea of charles even knowing your bra size felt weird, but with max it felt normal.

something crossed max's face as he leaned a little forward, his arms crossed along his toned chest, "funny. you're quite the comedian.' he raised his eyebrows at you, "so tell me, does leclerc fuck better than i do? is there other men i should know about? i heard you went on a boat trip with zak brown, is he getting action too? whore."

you made a face, "you're a possessive fuck, verstappen." you swallowed, "and if it strokes your ego, no. i'm not fucking anyone else because if i tried to fuck someone else i think you'd make their death look like an accident." you stepped forward, "if i told you that i was getting action from anyone, could be a random man. you'd kill them!"

max puffed out his chest for a moment in defiance, "really? what about that lovely girl, that reporter during our first year in formula one. you saw one picture and got the wrong idea. you left you crying. so don't act like i am so mean man." he uncrossed his arms as you got closer.

"she was going to use you, max. i knew it. you were so eager to be loved by someone, she would've taken advantage of you."

max sighed and braced his arms behind him. the two of you were naked and you were bickering. he said, "then name someone who won't take advantage of me."

you got onto the bed, your hand on his chest. you could feel the quickened pace of his heart. you said softly, lips close to his, "me." before you pulled him flat onto the bed and started to make out with him.

he loved the sound of that. when the kiss was broken, he watched you straddle his waist. if max verstappen was going to pick any lover, it was going to be the woman who drove him crazy on and off the track. someone he pushed him to be the best.

but in glimmers of tenderness, a soft underbelly. max knew that you loved him. and he loved you. it was just the words got all mixed up from the brain to the tongue.

i love you often became i'm going to beat you.

you sank onto his cock and hissed a little bit from the stretch. you held onto his shoulders for leverage while he guided you with his hands on your hips. your stomach flipped as you got fully seated on him.

"beautiful."

"shut up, max."

"never. not for you."

it was mushy, emotional in a way that made you core throb. a vulnerability that made you run hot. you rolled your hips against him, his cock nudged against the softest parts of you and it made your back arched.

max eventually got himself up against the headboard to feel closer to you. his hands left your hips and started to palm at your breasts. he soon leaned in for kissed along the soft skin. even his tongue dragged across your nipples, which only made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

"you always feel beautiful." he said, "no one else has been like you." he had changed so much since you met, ten years of this. the back and forth.

it made you chest clenched. you could only imagine what would happen if all this came out. but, in fairness you couldn't keep it behind the doors of hotel rooms forever. the minor controversies of the two of you in each other's grasp.

you hated to admit it. but you loved max verstappen. he was as much a part of you as you were of him. racing was in your blood, but the draw towards each other. a twin flame.

he'd almost run you off the track, you'd get into his face. he'd buy you dinner and you'd slink off to his room. away from prying eyes, the two of you would make love. or at the very least a primal kind of sex that left your head spinning.

it was a game, one to shield feelings. but as you moved your hips against him. it became more obvious that you were both under a delusion. you thought he didn't know that you loved him and he though you didn't know that he loved you.

but was obvious. as you moved and he touched you. you two knew each other too well. it was an obsession and you had long since pushed past the line of enemies.

enemies didn't look at each other like they wanted to devour one another. max verstappen didn't think of lewis hamilton or charles leclerc when he saw engagment rings in shop windows. you didn't think of george russell or oscar paistri when saw expensive wrist watches. you didn't have dreams in your early adult years of you dressed in wedding white and alex albon beaming at you, and max didn't jerk off to a vast collection of nude photos of lando norris. you two were in your own little orbit.

you panted heavily as you continued to move. the feeling were growing as you felt the throb in your chest. you ranked your fingers down his chest.

"max." you panted.

"yes."

you pulled him by his face up for another kiss as you continued to move against him. you moaned into the kiss, and he in turn whimpered against you. the feeling was prodding at just the right parts of his brain.

you were beautiful and it drove him wild.

"i'm glad no one else can have you." max said softly, tinged with tenderness, "they wouldn't know how to handle a woman like you."

you held his face for a moment and looked into his eyes, "oh yeah and you're an easy ride too." then pulled him in for another searing kiss.

he held onto your hips and guided you quickly against him. both of you working for a common goal (for one).

you braced your hands on his bare chest to give yourself support and continued your movements. a few more heavy thrusts of your hips before you leaned down and kissed him on the lips. your cunt tight around him as the wash of lust came over you. you came, then he came. and it both left you exhausted and breathless.

you yelped a little when max grabbed you by the middle and pulled you on the beside beside him. he peppered your face with kisses and you felt hot all over. your heart leapt at the feeling of him holding you. his softening cock up against you.

"you're beautiful."

"max." you said softly, the heat still in your cheeks.

he held you, your head against his chest. one of his hands was on the back of your head while the other was interlocking his fingers with yours. you were gravitated towards the sounds of his heartbeat.

you sighed, "i fear i have to admit something to you, verstappen."

he perked up a little, "oh?"

you sighed and raised your head. your hair was a mess and you looked tired from the long day on the track and the longer night together. you said, "this isn't me showing weakness. if you mistake what i am going to say as weakness, then you have another thing coming."

he looked at you with raised eyebrows and asked, "what is it?"

you rubbed his broad chest and said in quiet voice, "max. i'm in love with you. and i have been for some time." you swallowed, diverting your eyes from him, "i think we suck as rivals. i think we need to become lovers, for real. even if we don't tell the press and give them that satisfaction. to be able to call you mine is all i would want."

he took you by the chin and pressed a kiss against your lips. your heart jumped and when he pulled away, he said quietly in return as if it were a secret, "i'd want nothing more. i think we're about to save the whole grid anymore headaches."

driving felt like a lifetime ago, as did the rivalry you and max shared. the day after max retired, he posted two pictures online. the first one had basically been scrubbed from the internet, except on max's phone. it was you two in your first year of formula one. your legs draped over his lap while he took a selfie of you two kissing. the second was a similar pose, years later. when the charade was over and you two finally admitted your feelings to one another.

in the caption he made a cheeky comment about how the two of you probably weren't as careful as you thought. but, that was being young and dumb. when you retired two years later, with two championships under your belt. you posted a photo of the small wedding you had a year prior.

your caption read, "call me mrs. verstappen and we're going to have a problem." you had simply hyphened your last names. which was then passed onto your son that you had a year after your retirement.

"niko." max was as he tried to wrangle his son, he eventually hoisted the little boy up, "you have to put on a life jacket, remember?" he smiled at his son, "you have to listen to mama, nicholas." he reminded his son.

the little boy nodded rapidly as max carried him onto the boat. you had lunch packed in a bag while max carried the rest of the stuff needed as well. the three of you were going for a little boat ride for the afternoon.

max made sure that his son was secure in a life jacket while you put the bag you were carrying down. you took a seat and picked up your son. you felt max's eyes lingering on you.

"what?" you asked half-jokingly.

max smiled, "i love you." he seemed lighter now, he had all the trophies he could ever need.

"i love you too." you responded, a phrase you had said a thousand times at least. to think that there was a period of time that the idea of loving him would've made you pull your hair out. you then kissed youe son on the cheek, "but i love you more, nico."

the little boy laughed and max winked at you before he went to get the boat started. while you busied yourself getting sunscreen on your son, you held your smile.

the media circus around you two eventually died now. there was no draw to mystery of your relationship, it also didn't help that the two of you kept nicholas out of the public eye. it left you both retired with your son. you'd sometimes think about how you were all those years earlier, when max was still your 'rival'. but, in all fairness, even if you two did stand toe-to-toe with one another and pushed one another into racing greatness. he was a better husband and father than he ever was a rival.

the sun, the moon and their little star.

462 notes · View notes

grayandthyme · 7 days ago

Text

what the quiet hides | oneshot

masterlist

pairing: jackson!joel miller x f!reader

❝ I'm the escape to somethin' that's worse I am the shadow drivin' the hearse ❞

synopsis: Joel struggles to readjust to life in Jackson—a quiet life untouched by the constant specter of death that once followed him. Learning to live as someone who's no longer a killer is no easy thing. When does a monster cease to be a monster? Simply put, when you love it.

a/n: i'd like to say this is the semi parallel universe as death trapped, clad happily—in other words, you know him, you know the terror he's caused, the lives he's taken. hell, you probably encouraged some of it. you aren't someone random. you're important—important enough that he keeps you an arms length away. I like writing the reader as someone who is just plain tired. you want to love, but you're also exhausted from the hell you've been through—and joel can be a frustrating man. you love him, definitely, but at the end of the day you're tired of the wall he's forcing you behind.

warnings/tags: heavy fluff, angst, sexual suggestions, implied intercourse, semi-established relationship, reader is downbad for joel, he's traumatized ofc, lots of dialogue, you play with his hair, something about domestic reader and joel makes me start crying andshitting at the same time

w/c 10.2k

“You have to talk to him,” Tommy says, low and slow, teeth grazing his bottom lip like the thought’s gutting at him. At this point, it’s less a suggestion and more a quiet plea. His fingers twitch against the warm surface of his coffee mug—white, plain. Trembling just slightly. Nervous energy in every motion.

“I don’t know who you think I am to him,” you say, the words scraping out of your throat like sandpaper. You inhale sharp and dry, coffee clinging to the back of your tongue like a ghost. “Whatever he’s doing, whatever he’s not saying—that’s on him. That silence? It’s his choice.”

“Maria’s on my ass—” he starts, but you cut him off before the rest can tumble out.

“I know how she feels about him, Tommy. I know how the whole damn town feels about him.” The words spill out hot, too fast, like you’ve been holding them in too long and they’re finally clawing their way free. “But I can’t just—fix it. He hasn’t said a word to me since we got here. Hell, I don’t even live with them.”

You pause, breath shaky, eyes fixed on anything that isn’t him.

“I traveled across the goddamn country with him—and Ellie,” you say, softer now, voice rough at the edges. “And this is where we ended up. Right here. Barely a word between us.”

The silence that follows chews at your throat. You try to swallow it, try to make it into something cleaner. Something that hurts less.

“You’ve known your brother a hell of a lot longer than I have,” you say, voice low, frayed at the edges. You drag a tired hand down your face, like maybe the weight behind your eyes will go with it. It doesn’t. Your fingers find the mug again, still warm, still useless.

“So, why don’t you tell me what the hell I’m supposed to do?”

The words hang there—sharp, bitter, hollow in the way grief is hollow. You’re not angry at Tommy. Not really. But the question is more than a plea; it’s an admission. You're out of road. Out of maps. And out of whatever thread was holding all this together. Before there was a plan, a mission. Now? Nothing. It's all freewill.

Tommy doesn’t speak right away. Just stares, jaw tight, like he’s weighing the truth against the damage it’ll cause.

“I think…” he starts, then trails off, eyes dropping to the mug in his hands like maybe it’ll give him courage. “I think he’s scared. And Joel… don’t know how to talk when he’s scared.”

You scoff, dry. “Yeah, well. I don’t know how to wait around for someone who won’t even look at me.”

Tommy doesn’t rise to meet your frustration. He lets it pass, steady and silent. He understands—probably better than anyone ever could. He shared blood, breath, and a womb with that man. But more than that, he sees the truth for what it is. Sees it clearer than you’re ready to admit. Two people, equally wrecked, equally stubborn, and completely in love. It’s written all over both your faces, even when you won’t look at each other.

A few heartbeats drag by in silence. Heavy ones. Worried ones.

“Have you talked to Ellie?” he asks finally. Not so much a question as a sideways shuffle—dodging the heat of your words, giving himself something safe to stand on.

“Every day,” you reply, with a tired breath. Your fingers tap out some nervous rhythm against the table, soft and restless. “She drops by. Talks shit. Makes me laugh.”

You pause. The next part stings, but it’s true, and you owe the truth to Tommy, even if it’s ugly.

“She makes jokes, too. About Joel and I—says we’re professionals at pretending the other one doesn’t exist.”

A humorless chuckle slips out before you can stop it. “She’s not wrong.”

Tommy doesn’t smile. He just looks at you like he’s waiting for you to say the one thing that matters most. The thing you keep dancing around like broken glass on a kitchen floor.

“I think she gets on him about socializing,” you mutter, words slipping out like they’re trying to escape your throat before your heart can catch up. “Hell, I know she does.”

And still, he doesn’t come around.

The confession comes quiet, bitter, reluctant.

Truth is—you miss him. God, you miss him more than you’d ever admit out loud.

You miss the almost-smiles, those fleeting little ghosts of warmth he used to give when no one else was looking. You miss the gravity of him—how the air changed when he was near, how the silence always seemed heavier, fuller. You miss the scent of coffee on his skin, like he carried the morning with him wherever he went.

You miss the way his eyes found you in a room like they were built for it. Always watching. Always knowing. Seeing right through you without ever asking too much.

You miss that laugh—barely a breath, a half-hearted exhale that said more than words ever could. You used to live for that sound. Now it’s just an echo in your skull.

And those eyes. God, those deep, forest-dark eyes. Like dusk caught in human form. The kind that made you feel seen. The kind that burned. The kind that made you want to stay.

You drag your fingers across your mug again, fingertips numb from the cold now. You’re not even drinking the coffee. Just holding onto it like it might hold you back.

“Tommy, I—” you start, voice catching on the edge of something you’re not sure you want to say. “I don’t want to look desperate. I don’t want to seem like I need him. Knowing damn well he doesn’t need anyone, not really.” You swallow, trying to shake the weight off, but it’s there. Always there.

A long, suffocating beat of silence stretches between you.

And then, quieter, as if saying it aloud makes it more real: “I don’t want to… get hurt.”

The words hang in the air, brittle with honesty, and they taste bitter on your tongue. The weight of them presses down on your chest like something you’ve been carrying too long, but never dared to unpack.

Tommy doesn’t rush to answer. He leans back in his chair, hands resting on his knees, his eyes searching your face like he’s weighing something heavy. He knows this—he’s been here before, watching people break without ever meaning to.

“Hell,” he says, voice quiet but firm, like he’s been carrying this truth for a long time and it’s finally time to share it. “You’re not the only one scared of gettin’ hurt. We all are. Joel, me, you, Ellie…” His gaze softens just a fraction, the edges of his expression sharpening with something that feels like regret. “We all keep our walls up, ‘cause it’s easier than lettin’ someone in and watchin’ ‘em leave. Easier than lettin’ them hurt you.”

A pause, long and measured, before his eyes flick to the empty space between you both.

“But you know what, kid? You can’t keep livin’ like that. You can’t keep waiting for the hurt to come before you decide to feel anything. ‘Cause it’ll eat you alive, piece by piece.” He leans forward, elbows on the table, voice softer now, a little more worn. “You can’t fight what’s real. Not forever.”

You laugh—more of a bitter chide than anything else. The sound of it barely even feels like yours.

“What, you think your brother loves me?” Your eyes lock with Tommy’s, deadpan and heavy with a kind of dark amusement, though the smile you offer is anything but genuine. It’s a fragile thing, a mask you slip on just to hide the ache beneath.

Tommy’s expression hardens at your words. For a moment, there’s a sharp edge to his gaze—something that goes beyond the casual brotherly concern. It’s raw, almost desperate, like he’s reaching through the layers of sarcasm and deflection, trying to make you see the truth.

“You think I don’t see what’s goin’ on here?” His voice drops, low and urgent, as if every word matters too much to waste. “I’ve only watched you two—hell, for a few months, tops—and I see it. The way you look at him. The way he looks at you.” He shakes his head, frustration in his tone. “But neither of you want to admit it. Both of you too goddamn stubborn to let the walls down.”

Tommy leans in, eyes locked on yours, a kind of plea in them that cuts through the sarcasm.

“Look, I know my brother,” he says, his voice strained with a rawness you don’t often hear from him. “He’s broken. But goddamn, he cares about you. He wouldn’t let himself care, but he does. And you—” He pauses, “You’re no better. I know you’re scared of getting hurt. Hell, I get it. But if you don’t stop pushin’ him away, you’ll lose him before you even get the chance.”

You'll lose him before you even get the chance.

A beat of silence hangs in the air. His voice softens, almost pleading.

“I want this for you both. I want you to make it work.” He exhales sharply, like the weight of it all is finally catching up. “But you’re gonna have to stop running, or you’ll end up with nothin’ but regret.”

You're gonna have to stop running. You'll end up with nothin' but regret.

You shift uncomfortably in the diner booth, your eyes drifting over the busy room, lingering on the Tipsy Bison—a familiar chaos of voices, laughter, and clinking glasses. It's louder than usual today, the air thick with chatter and the smell of fried food. You don’t even register it, though. Your mind’s elsewhere, caught in a storm of what-ifs.

“It’s complicated, Tommy…” you start again, voice hesitant, like you're not sure if the words will come out right—or even if you want them to. “What if Ellie doesn’t want us together? What if—”

Your throat tightens, and you break off. There’s a lump there, one you can’t swallow down no matter how hard you try. Ellie. She's a part of this too, in ways you can't ignore, in ways that make the whole thing feel like walking on glass. You can’t just pull Joel out of the wreckage of his past without considering her, without wondering if you’re tearing apart something she holds together.

Shit, maybe you're making excuses at this point.

“I don’t want to make things harder for her, or him,” you mutter under your breath, eyes flicking back to Tommy’s. But even you can hear the uncertainty in your voice. It doesn’t feel like you’re talking to him anymore, but to the fear inside you.

Tommy’s gaze hardens, but there’s something in his eyes—an understanding, mixed with the frustration of seeing you wrestle with the same doubts he’s been carrying for a while now. He leans forward, hands pressing into the table as he speaks, voice low but firm.

“Ellie’s not gonna stop you from doing what you feel is right,” he says, the words carrying a heaviness that suggests he’s had this conversation with himself a thousand times. “She’s smart. She knows what’s goin’ on between you two. Hell, she probably sees it clearer than either of you do.” He exhales sharply, “And if you think for one second that you’re doin’ her any favors by staying away, you’re wrong.”

He pauses, staring at you with a kind of raw honesty you don’t often get from him. “Ellie’s already lost enough people in her life. She knows the damage of keepin’ people at arm's length. And I think she wants you and Joel to make it work. She wants him to stop runnin’. But you—” Tommy leans in closer, voice growing softer, more insistent. “You gotta stop runnin’, too. The both of you are too goddamn old, and scared of gettin’ hurt to even take a chance on what could be good.”

He pulls back, letting his words hang in the air, thick with the weight of everything unsaid. “If you’re waitin’ for things to be perfect before you let your guard down, you’re gonna be waitin’ forever. And by then… it’ll be too late.”

Christ.

You exhale—deep, shaky. The kind that comes from somewhere buried, where you've been holding it all too tight for too long. Your forehead drops into your hands, elbows on the table, the weight of everything finally pressing down.

“You gotta stop clocking me like this, Tommy,” you mumble through your fingers, voice muffled, worn thin with exhaustion. There's no bite to it—just a hollow kind of resignation. The truth hurts worse when someone else says it out loud.

For a second, neither of you speaks. The noise of the Tipsy Bison hums around you, distant, like you’re underwater.

Tommy leans back, arms folded, and when he speaks again, it’s quieter—gentler.

“I’m not tryin’ to call you out. I’m just tired of watchin’ two good people pretend they don’t want the same damn thing.”

“Fine.” You say it like a weight’s being dragged out of your chest. Your eyes flick up from the mug, settling on Tommy—guarded, but less so than before. “I’ll try.”

The words taste strange coming out, like they don’t quite belong to you yet. But they’re real. And for the first time in what feels like weeks, the wall you’ve been holding up cracks just a little.

You lean back in the booth, staring past Tommy now, past the crowd, into the blurry space where you let yourself imagine something different—something softer.

“I don’t know what the hell I’m gonna say to him,” you admit. “But I’ll try. If he still wants to hear it.”

. . .

It’s later now. The sun’s long gone, buried beneath the horizon, leaving the sky painted in shades of deep blue and silver. The moon hangs heavy above Jackson, casting a soft, almost mocking glow over the dirt roads and still porches. The air’s thick—hot in that suffocating way that clings to your skin. You tug at your shirt, the fabric damp and stubborn where it sticks to you, like even it doesn’t want to let go.

Joel’s house stands quiet in front of you. Still. Heavy. That same heavy stillness he wears like armor. He's intimidating. Fuck, even his house is.

You stare at the door like it might lunge at you. Every nerve in your body is screaming at you to turn around. To walk back home. To pretend like this never happened. But your feet don’t move.

You can’t run anymore. Not from this.

Your hand rises before you even realize it—slow, shaking just enough to betray you—and you knock.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Each one lands like a heartbeat, louder in your chest than it is in the air. And then nothing. Just silence pressing down on you like a second skin.

You swallow hard, already halfway regretting it—but it’s too late now. You’re here.

And he knows it.

You wait, your breath catching somewhere between your ribs and your throat, like your body can’t quite decide whether to brace for impact or run. The seconds stretch—long and hollow—and just when you’re about to turn away, the door creaks open.

But it’s not him.

It’s Ellie.

You blink, your posture faltering ever so slightly. She’s standing there barefoot, hoodie slung half-off one shoulder, a brow raised like she’s been expecting something, just not you.

“Oh—” you exhale, breath slipping out in a sigh you didn’t mean to let go. “El, hey.”

Ellie leans on the doorframe, chewing the inside of her cheek for a second, eyes scanning your face like she’s reading a book she’s already halfway through.

“Hey,” she says, casually enough, but there's something knowing behind her tone. “Tommy send you?"

You glance past her, instinctively, but don’t see him. Just low light and a half-finished glass of water on the table inside.

“Is he here?” you ask, softer than you meant to.

Ellie nods, jerking her thumb over her shoulder. “Yeah. He’s in his room. Pretending he’s not listening.”

She steps aside, wide enough for you to enter, then adds, dry as ever, “Try not to break anything, yeah?”

“Yeah, ’boutta wreck your house,” you tease, giving her a gentle nudge with your shoulder.

Ellie snorts, but her smirk is soft. “Figured. Thanks for the warning.”

You step just inside the doorway, letting the air of the house settle around you—familiar and heavy all at once. The door clicks shut behind you, but it still feels like the world’s wide open, pressing against your back.

“I’ve missed you,” you say, the words leaving your mouth on an exhale like they’ve been sitting in your lungs for weeks. Maybe longer.

Ellie’s smirk fades, and her eyes meet yours, more serious now—older, somehow. “I know,” she says, simple, sincere. “Me too.”

You nod, pressing your lips together to keep the ache at bay. “I know things have been… weird.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, shrugging one shoulder, “Weirds definitely the word.” Then she looks at you again, more gently this time. “But it doesn’t mean they’re broken.”

A silence passes between you, one that feels less awkward and more like mutual understanding. She takes a step back toward the hallway and jerks her chin toward Joel’s room.

“He’s not gonna bite,” she says, almost teasing—almost. “Probably.”

You stand there, staring down the hallway like it’s the mouth of hell itself—dark, quiet, unforgiving.

“Well,” you mutter, squaring your shoulders with mock solemnity, “just so you know… you’re in my will.”

Ellie quirks a brow, arms crossed, already bracing for the punchline.

“And if I don’t come back from this,” you go on, dramatic, waving a hand toward the hallway like you’re heading into battle, “I want you to have my jacket. The one with the fleece inline."

Ellie scoffs. “Wow. Generous.”

“Also, my stash of knitting spools. And—” you glance over your shoulder, dead serious for a beat, “—burn my journal. Don’t read it. I mean it.”

Ellie’s laughter finally breaks through, light but real. “You’re such a dork.”

You flash her a shaky smile, one that barely masks the pounding in your chest. But it’s enough to steady your feet. Enough to take the first step down the hallway.

“Yeahhh,” you breathe, voice low now. “… You're my dork.”

And then you're moving—one slow, inevitable step at a time toward his door.

You take those few agonizing steps toward his door, each one louder in your ears than they should be. The hallway feels longer than it is, stretched by nerves and silence, the soft creak of the floorboards underfoot like a countdown.

You stop in front of the door—his door—and for a second, you just stand there. Your hand lifts before you can talk yourself out of it. A soft knock. Barely audible.

Your voice follows, thinner than you meant. “Joel…?”

Silence.

Then something shifts behind the door. A quiet sound—maybe the creak of floorboards, maybe just your own heartbeat in your ears. The air feels too still, like the house itself is holding its breath.

You swallow. Everything in you feels crooked, like you’ve walked into the middle of something fragile and sacred and utterly unknown. Your knuckles hover near the door again, but you don't knock a second time.

Instead, you speak—awkwardly, gently. “It’s… just me.”

Still nothing. But you know he’s there.

Because that silence? That’s Joel’s kind of silence. The kind packed with meaning. The kind that makes you want to run and stay all at once.

“I guess you could say… Tommy got to me.” You offer it like a half-joke, your voice barely carrying through the door, but it’s all you’ve got. “Wouldn’t shut up, really.”

Nothing yet. Not a sound. But you keep going, because if you stop now, you won’t start again.

“I wanted to talk about… things.” The words stumble out in a rush, awkward and unpolished. You wince the moment they leave your mouth, like you already hate how vague they sound. “About us. About what happened. About what… didn’t happen.”

You let out a shaky breath, one hand ghosting against the doorframe.

“I don’t even know if you want to hear it. Maybe you don’t. I wouldn’t blame you. But I… I’ve been carrying it. All of it. And it’s getting heavy, Joel.”

There’s a quiet inside that doesn’t feel empty—it feels held. Like someone’s standing just beyond the door, rooted in place. Listening.

You lean your forehead against the door, lowering your voice like a secret. “I miss you. Even when you’re right in the same room, I still miss you.”

“I know things have been awkward since we came back… since Salt Lake City.”

The words slip out, slow and uneven, like they’ve been stuck in your throat for months.

“I’ve thought it over a million times in my head,” you admit, your voice softening, fraying at the edges. “What I could’ve done. What I should’ve said. If I made you upset, angry… shit, happy.”

You laugh under your breath, bitter and breathless. “I don’t know. You never told me.”

There’s still nothing from the other side of the door. But you don’t stop. Can’t.

“I don’t want it to be like this,” you whisper. “This thing between us. This silence. I want us to be whatever we were before.”

You pause, your hand resting on the wood like it might anchor you. “Friends?” you offer, the word clumsy on your tongue, too small for what you really mean. “I don’t know.”

And it’s the truth. You don’t. All you know is the ache in your chest and the ghost of what you had—whatever it was—flickering in every quiet second he doesn't speak.

“But I’d rather fumble through it with you… than keep pretending I don’t care.”

You pause, chest rising, falling. Waiting.

The silence is thick—almost suffocating now. Like the walls are leaning in, like the air is pressing too close.

And you know.

You know it deep in your gut, in the stillness that follows your words like a cold wind after a flame.

He won’t talk to you.

He’s not going to.

Maybe he never was.

You pull your hand back from the door like it burned you. Your fingers curl into your palm, like they’re trying to hold something that’s already slipping through.

Your throat tightens, and you bite down on the lump rising there, hard enough to hurt. It’s all unraveling now—the hope, the effort, the trembling truth of how much you wanted this to go differently.

But it didn’t.

And maybe it never would.

You hear it before you see him—a deep, guttural clearing of his throat. The kind of sound that carries years of whiskey and smoke, rough around the edges, just as familiar as the gravel in his voice.

You freeze.

And then you turn—slow, too slow, as if your body can't quite catch up to the pounding in your chest.

Your eyes fall first to a chest too broad, just a little too close. The worn fabric of his shirt stretches tight across his shoulders, and for a second, you forget how to breathe.

But it’s when your gaze rises—slowly, reluctantly—that the air hits you like a punch.

It’s him.

Standing there.

You blink, the words coming out softer than you meant, almost lost in the rush of your heartbeat. “Oh.”

The stupid thing is, you thought he’d been in his room, behind that door. You thought he was keeping his distance.

He was never in his room. He was right fucking behind you.

You clear your throat, the sound cutting through the thick air. Your fingers curl into fists, but you don’t look away. Not now. Not when you’ve come this far.

“I had… a lot to say to that door… in case you couldn’t tell,” you say, your voice smooth, confident—maybe even a little too sassy. But it's a mask. And for once, you're not hiding behind it.

Joel's eyes flicker, dark and unreadable, like he's weighing the space between the two of you. His jaw tightens, and there's a flicker of something in his gaze—a mixture of anger, sorrow, and something softer, something dangerous. He steps forward, closing the gap between you, but not too much. Just enough to remind you he’s there, that he's always there. Even when you don’t see him.

“You talk to doors often, now?” His voice is rough, like it’s been sitting under layers of dust and regret.

You shrug, trying to keep the snark, the bravado, up even though it’s crumbling under the weight of his stare. "I thought I’d give it a shot. Guess it didn't work."

Joel exhales sharply, rubbing a hand over his face like the whole world’s suddenly too damn heavy. Because it is. Your presence alone is heavy. His shoulders are stiff, tense, like he’s holding back an ocean of things he doesn’t want to say—or maybe things he’s too terrified to admit.

“You don't know what you're asking for,” he mutters, voice low, gravel rough. "You think you do, but you don’t."

Your heart kicks in your chest, but you don’t flinch. “I think I just want you to talk to me.”

Joel's eyes narrow, his chest rising with a deep breath. You see it—the way his gaze flickers toward the floor, the way his hands twitch like he’s holding himself back from doing something he’ll regret. “You don’t know what it’s like. What I’ve done. Who I am. I—” He pauses, shaking his head like the words won’t leave him, even though they’re clawing at his throat. "I'm not the man you think I am."

You take a step forward, closer, but just enough to show him you’re not afraid. You’re not backing down this time. “I don’t think you're a damn saint, Joel. I know that. I've seen that.” Your voice softens, just a fraction. "But I don’t care about that. I care about you. And I want to fix this. Whatever this is."

Joel’s eyes flick to you—deep, tortured—and for a second, just a second, you see it: the war inside him, the cracks that he’s been trying to keep sealed. His lips press tight, and you can almost feel the weight of his self-loathing hanging between you like a wall too thick to break through.

“You don’t know what I could do to you.” His voice is raw now, quieter. Dangerous. "I ain't good for you."

You shake your head, every bit of your soul pushing back. “You don’t get to decide that for me.”

The silence settles between you again, thick and heavy, but you don’t look away. Not this time. Not when you’re finally here, finally saying it. Whatever happens next—whatever he says, whatever he does—you’ll face it. You’ll face him.

“What do you think you’re going to do to me, Joel?” You exhale sharply, feeling the anger bubble in your gut, each word sharp as glass. “Break my heart? Shit! You’re halfway fuckin’ there!”

The words leave you faster than you can control them, a slip of frustration, of everything you've been bottling up for far too long. You hope it doesn’t come off as a confession, but the weight of what you just said lingers in the air between you. The ache you’ve been carrying around—growing like an open wound—is bleeding out. And you hope to God it doesn’t hit him wrong. That whatever oozed from your heart doesn’t make him pull away even more.

You wipe your palms against your jeans, trying to ground yourself before the next words come out, but they do anyway.

“I don’t know what we are, or what I want us to be—but I do know I can’t go without talking to you. Seeing you.”

Your voice is quieter now, but still laced with the same fire. The same desperation.

“Tommy coming to me like you’re already halfway in the ground, begging me to get you to talk to somebody around here. Fuck, Maria thinks you’re a liability.”

You’re pushing, and you know it. But it’s not without reason. The words burn like gasoline on your tongue, and part of you is waiting for him to snap—waiting for that goddamn wall to crack, for any emotion to spill out of him. Anything.

You pause, just long enough for the words to settle between you, before they fall out, heavy and reckless.

“Thinkin’ that if I walked right into that bar and grabbed the first man I’d see… would you do anything about it?”

Joel’s gaze hardens as you speak, each word you throw at him building tension between you like a fuse to a bomb. He’s still standing too close, but this time, it feels like more of a challenge than an invitation.

His jaw tightens, his fists flexing at his sides as if he's trying to hold onto something—control, composure, whatever's left of him.

“You think I’m going to break your heart?” His voice is low, a rough growl that cuts through the air, but there’s something strained in it—something raw, something rabid. “You think I don’t know what I’m doing to you?”

He steps closer, a fraction. “You really think I want to keep you here in this mess?” His eyes burn, a flash of anger now, but something darker, too—fear, regret, maybe guilt. It’s hard to tell with him. But you see it there.

He runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the roots like he's pulling the anger and pain out of him, trying to keep it from spilling over. His words are like gravel now. Rough, jagged.

“Tommy came to you about me, huh?” His voice drops a little, bitterness creeping in.

“Figures. He’s always had a way of making everyone else carry my weight.” He shakes his head, eyes flicking away momentarily, before settling back on you. “Maria can think whatever the hell she wants. She doesn’t know a damn thing about me. About what I’ve done.”

He doesn’t back away from your challenge. If anything, his presence becomes more imposing, like he’s daring you to push harder.

“Do you really think I wouldn’t care?” he mutters, his voice quiet but thick with something unspoken. His eyes narrow, hard and unyielding. "Do you really think I wouldn’t do anything about it?"

His fingers twitch at his sides, but he doesn’t touch you—doesn’t move a muscle, as if holding himself back from something he can't control. The silence between you swells. He’s trying to choke back whatever’s clawing at him, and you can feel it in the way he holds himself, rigid and cold.

“I’ve never wanted you to walk away," he says, his tone softer now, "But I’m not the kind of man who deserves you. Not the way you think. I’m trying to keep you safe, and you… you just don’t get it.”

A beat of silence passes.

“Please,” you breathe, the word escaping more like a crack than a whisper, jagged and raw.

Your voice trembles under the weight of it, tears burning behind your eyes—thick and hot, pressing hard against the dam you’re trying so damn hard to keep in place.

“Just let me help.” It slips from you like a split thread, like hope stretched too thin. “Let me do something.”

You blink, once, twice—but the tears don’t fall. Not yet. They just sit there, glassy and defiant, blurring the edges of him as you fight to keep them at bay.

“I don’t want to beg,” you murmur, softer now. Almost ashamed of how close you are to breaking.

But it’s already there—in your voice, your eyes, the way your hands tremble like they’re reaching for something that might never reach back.

Joel doesn’t answer right away.

His face shifts—barely—but you catch it. A flicker of pain that cuts through the stone of him. His mouth opens, then shuts again, like the words hurt too much to form.

“You think I want you to beg?” he growls, but it’s not anger. Not really. It’s fear dressed in anger’s skin. His hands flex, jaw tight, like he wants to grab something—you, maybe—and shake some sense into both of you.

“I hear you talk like that and it makes me feel like I already broke you.”

His voice is low and uneven, the kind of sound that comes from a man who hasn’t cried in years but might start now if he lets go for even a second.

He shifts, takes a step back like he’s trying to create distance between your pain and his guilt, but it doesn’t work. It never works. He may not want it to work.

“You wanna help?” he mutters, not looking at you. “You are the help. Just being here, standing there—looking at me like I’m not… like I’m not some monster—I don’t deserve that.”

He finally meets your eyes again, and this time, there’s no armor left. Just Joel. Just the tired, hollowed-out man beneath all the grit.

“I don’t know how to let you in without ruining you.”

There it is. The truth.

But even then—he hasn’t walked away.

You pause, eyes locked on him, heart pounding so loud it might as well reverberate through the damn room. He looks like something cornered—scarred and tired, a man built of walls too high and wounds too deep.

A feral thing, wounded. Backed into himself. An animal.

“Do…” you falter, swallowing the tightness in your throat. “Do you trust me?”

It's not a weapon. Not a trap. Just a question.

Laid at his feet like an offering. Like maybe, if he says yes—just maybe—something in both of you can finally rest.

His brow furrows slightly, like he doesn’t understand how anyone could still ask him that. How anyone could look him in the eye and mean it.

Then—quietly, a rasp, low and broken like gravel over ash:

“…Yeah. Yes.”

His voice shakes on the word.

“God help me, I do.”

He looks at you like it costs him something to admit it. Like handing you that truth took a piece of him he’ll never get back.

Your breath stumbles out, ragged and quiet, and then—you move.

You reach for him with care, like he’s something fragile under all that roughness. He is. Your fingers wrap around his wrist, steady and deliberate, guiding it upward with a kind of grace that feels almost reverent. Like you’re not just moving his hand—you’re inviting him in.

You press his palm to your skin—just there, along the slope of your collarbone, your jaw. Not forceful. Not demanding.

It’s not control. It’s not surrendereither.

It’s trust. A quiet way of saying: I’m not afraid of you.

Not like you’re afraid of yourself.

And he feels it—how you don't flinch, how you don’t recoil. How you let him in, even here.

Your voice comes low, breath warm, eyes searching his like you’re trying to stitch together something he’s long since torn apart.

“There’s a moment,” you murmur, “before and after someone learns the truth of you… the real you. What you’ve done. What you carry.”

“And in this moment… this world after?”

You tilt your head into his hand, just slightly. Just enough.

“I still choose you.”

Joel doesn’t speak.

Doesn’t blink.

Just stands there, frozen in the raw gravity of your words like they physically hit him—like you knocked the air clean out of his lungs. His hand stays where you placed it, warm and heavy against your skin, but his fingers twitch—once, like he’s unsure if he should pull away or hold tighter.

He should walk away. That’s what the voice in his head screams—the voice that’s always screamed. The one that’s kept him alive through blood, betrayal, and loss. Sarah.

But for the first time in years, he ignores it.

Because the way you're looking at him? Like he's not just a wreckage of a man? It breaks him.

His palm spreads wider, thumb grazing the edge of your jaw like he’s memorizing it, religiously.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he rasps, voice low, nearly pleading, almost broken. “You think you do, but—God, darlin’, you don’t.”

Still, he doesn’t pull away.

He steps closer.

So close the heat from his chest radiates through your skin like fire licking at every nerve. His breath fans against your face, hot, unsteady.

"I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you.”

And then, something shifts—snaps.

His other hand comes up fast, almost desperate, cupping the back of your neck, pulling you in. Not rough—not this time. But there’s a bite to it, a hunger barely contained. His forehead leans against yours, the closeness almost unbearable.

“You’re gonna regret this,” he mutters, barely audible. “One day, you’ll see me for what I really am.”

Fuck, you hope so.

His mouth hovers near yours—right there—but he stops. Breath trembling, lips barely apart. Waiting.

For you to move. To choose him again. Even now. Even like this. It's selfish. He doesn't care, he wants to be selfish. Selfish with you.

You lean in, slow and surrendering, your hand resting over his—where it cradles your jaw.

Your body leans into his, like a tide drawn to the gravity of something larger, heavier, older than reason.

It's not an act of bravery.

It's not even hope.

It's desperation—that aching kind. That aching, pathetic kind of deal people make with the devil when they’re too tired to run anymore.

If he wanted you whole, he had you. And if he wanted to ruin you? You’d let him.

Because some part of you knows… he already has. And you're still here, reaching for him like ruin is worth it if you end up with him.

Whatever restraint he was holding cracks apart, splintering into ash. He surges forward—not rough, not angry, but hungry, lips crashing into yours with years of silence and grief behind it. His mouth claims yours like he’s been dying for it, like the taste of you might pull him back from the edge he’s lived on for too damn long.

His hand slips to the back of your neck, the other anchoring at your waist, pulling you tight, flush, his. There’s nothing gentle about it, not after everything. It’s messy. It's flawed.

It's real.

When he finally breaks the kiss, it’s only by a breath, foreheads touching, eyes shut.

“You ruin me,” he whispers, voice frayed. “Every damn day.”

He moves his weight forward, free hand pushing down on the bedroom handle. A quick push and it's open, softly guiding you inside.

The moment the door clicks shut behind him, a quiet weight settles between you—backing you into the cool, dim light of the bedroom. His hand still grips your neck, but it’s softer now—more possessive than forceful, as though he’s trying to make sure you’re real, choosing him.

His lips graze your ear, his breath uneven against your skin. The heat from his chest against your back makes it feel like the world outside doesn’t matter—like it’s just the two of you, everything else lost to the storm inside.

His hand slips from your neck, trailing down the curve of your spine, a soft press against the small of your back, urging you closer. And still, he doesn’t speak—only guides you to the bed, each movement slow and deliberate, like the space between you matters.

When your legs hit the edge of the mattress, he pauses. He doesn’t push you down. He stands there for a moment, breathing, letting the tension settle like dust between you.

Joel runs a freehand through his hair, eyes not leaving yours. “I’m not the man you think I am,” he says, voice low, broken. "I can’t be."

He steps closer again, his presence overwhelming.

“But if you’re here,” he breathes, “if you’re still here… then I guess we both got somethin’ to prove.”

His lips meet yours again, this time gentler, more desperate. As if he’s trying to hold onto something fleeting—something he’s terrified of losing, even as he’s the one pushing you away.

. . .

The morning light slips through the cracks in the blinds, casting soft slivers of gold across the room. The chirping birds outside are a reminder of the world that continues spinning, oblivious to the quiet, intimate war that’s just been fought between you and him.

The ache in your body? It tells its own story—one of tangled sheets, and a bit more aggression than you thought he'd unleash.

You stretch a little, muscles sore but in the best way, the warmth of his body still lingering like an imprint. A soft, lazy yawn escapes your lips as your eyes flutter open, trying to gather the fragments of last night while the day begins to creep in.

The familiar blue comforter. The dark walls. The desk cluttered with wooden shavings, remnants of the life he’s built—a life that always felt like a fortress to keep people out, but last night? Last night, you breached it. You might have even been the main character of it.

You glance over your shoulder and, sure enough, his weight is there beside you. The soft, steady rise and fall of his chest beneath the faded sheets. You must have rolled over at some point in the night, tangled yourself up in him without even realizing it. His arm is draped lazily over your hip, like it belongs there—like you belong there.

The faint marks on his collarbones—darker now in the pale morning light—are yours. A trace of the night’s heated exchanges.

That was you.

It feels almost surreal, the contrast between the man he’s always been—gruff, distant—and the one you just saw, the one you touched, held. The one who let his guard down and let you in.

You can still feel him on you, in you. His weight, his warmth, the echoes of his lips against your skin.

The stillness of this moment is almost too much, too peaceful for the chaos you both carry inside. But for now, you don’t think about it. You don’t think about what happens after—about where this goes, what he really means when he says he doesn’t deserve you, or what the hell happens when everything falls apart again.

Instead, you focus on the weight of his hand against your skin, the feel of his chest rising and falling beneath your fingertips, the soft rasp of his breath so close it makes your pulse quicken. You close your eyes again, breathing him in, and for once, the world outside feels just far enough away.

You lift your hand slowly, carefully, as if any sudden movement might shatter the fragile quiet around you. One fingertip escapes the safety of the blanket and drifts toward him—toward that single curl that’s fallen stubborn across his brows. You brush it back, gentle, and it coils around your finger like it knows you. Like it wants to stay there.

He doesn’t stir.

You stare at him—really stare—and something settles in your chest. Heavy. Bitter. Tender.

It's cruel, you think. Unforgivably cruel, that the world has been so merciless to a man like this. A man who carries so much weight in his shoulders, in the lines carved deep around his mouth and eyes. A man who’s learned to bury softness just to survive.

Because the man before you now? Lying there half-wrapped in sheets and sleep, his hand resting against your hip like it’s the most natural thing in the world—he's nothing like the monster he thinks he is. He feels sweet.

Sweet in the way his fingers twitch in his sleep, like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he lets go. Sweet in the quiet tension of his jaw, even now—like he’s still fighting demons. Sweet in the memory of his mouth on yours, rough, desperate, demanding.

It’s almost unbearable. It feels like something holy.

Your fingers drift lower, slow and reverent, tracing the hardened edge of his jaw—rough with stubble, sharp from years of clenched teeth. It’s not a perfect jawline, not clean or pretty, but it’s his.

Your thumb grazes the corner of his mouth, then down, brushing gently over his bottom lip. He stirs just slightly, not fully waking, but reacting. His breath hitches faintly, and you pause, holding your touch steady.

You wonder if he’s dreaming. If, in that dark, quiet place behind his eyes, he still sees fire. Blood. Regret. So, you touch him like you can rewrite it.

"Handsome," you murmur, more to the moment than to him.

Because he is. Handsome in a way the world would never see. In the way he loves, fiercely and silently. In the way he breaks apart at night and still holds people together by day. Always a protector. Never protected.

You lean forward just enough to press a barely-there kiss to the corner of his mouth—soft, chaste, real.

And when you pull back, his eyes are open. Heavy-lidded. Watching you. He heard you.

His eyes don’t move at first—just stay fixed on you, heavy and unreadable, like he’s still trying to wake up from something deeper than sleep. You feel the weight of that stare settle into your ribs, slow and silent.

Then, finally, he blinks. A breath. A shift in the sheets.

"Good morning," you whisper, a little softer this time—as if saying it too loud might break the spell of him staying.

You try to lighten it, teasing to fill the silence. "I can’t promise I wasn’t doing anything weird while you were sleeping,” you murmur, your voice playful, lips curling as you roll onto your stomach. Elbows press into the plush give of the mattress, propping yourself up just enough to face him.

Only then does the flick of your gaze drop—chest bare, collarbone exposed. The comforter barely modest where it rests along the dip of your spine. He’s just as bare. Both naked. Still.

Joel exhales through his nose—soft. His hand flexes slightly where it’s still tangled in the sheet between you, then reaches, slow and unsure, to tuck the corner of the comforter back across your back. His knuckles drag against your skin. Not by accident.

“You always talk this much in the mornin’?” he rasps, voice thick with sleep and gravel.

You watch the way his eyes settle on you again, less guarded now, like whatever armor he wears hasn’t quite returned to him yet. He sees you—not just in his bed, but here. Still here.

“Only when I wake up next to someone handsome,” you murmur, "…which doesn't happen often."

Joel huffs a breath—something between a scoff and a laugh—and drags a hand down his face. He doesn't say anything right away. But then his fingers drift toward you again, rough palm finding your hip under the covers.

You move closer—slowly, deliberately—testing the weight of the morning, the strength of what last night left behind. The sheet shifts with you, sliding down your back just enough to expose more skin to the chill of the room, but you don’t care. He’s warm.

Your hand drifts upward, fingers threading into his curls—messy from sleep, soft in a way that doesn’t match the rest of him. You let your nails scrape gently against his scalp. Soothing and affectionate.

He leans into it. Barely. But he does.

"Regret your decision yet?" you whisper, voice teasing at the edge, daring him to pull back. To throw up walls. But there’s tenderness laced in the words, too—a crack in your own armor.

Joel’s eyes flicker open wider, finding yours in that hazy glow of morning. His jaw works for a second, like he’s chewing over every version of no that he doesn’t know how to say right. Then, his hand slips from your hip to your waist, palm warm and grounding.

“No,” he says, low and solid.

Then quieter—more broken: “Just scared you’re gonna wake up and regret yours.”

And there it is—laid bare between you. Not lust, not anger, not even love.

Fear.

He doesn’t say more. Doesn’t need to. The silence after his words says everything: he’s afraid he’ll ruin this. Ruin you. That whatever passed between you last night was a kindness he’s not meant to keep.

But his hand stays. And his eyes stay. And so do you.

You study him in silence, eyes drifting across the lines etched into his face—Every scar, every shadow, you take in as if remembering them.

Then, softer, a little teasing: "What's your favorite thing to eat for breakfast?" Your smile curves as you lean deeper into the sheets, the warmth between you still lingering in the air.

He grunts—barely more than a sound, but it’s a start.

“You ask a lotta damn questions,” he mutters.

The bed shifts as he moves, sitting halfway up with the sheet tangled around his waist. His back’s to you now—broad, scarred, tense. Like he’s already regretting last night, or maybe just the part where it meant something.

He runs a hand through his hair, rough. “Don’t got a favorite,” he says, after a beat. “Food’s food.”

But it’s a lie, and you both know it.

Another beat.

“… Pancakes,” he adds gruffly. “With butter. None o’ that syrup crap.”

He doesn’t turn around. Doesn’t let you see the look on his face. Keeps his voice flat like it doesn’t matter. Like you didn’t just break something open in him he’s been holding shut for years.

"So, I'll make pancakes." You stir, sitting up against the sheets. Softly—you lean over and embrace him in warmth. Hugging him from behind. Bare chest pressed against scarred and ripped skin, hands softly tracing against his hips.

Joel stiffens under your touch like he's not used to it—like the idea of someone holding him just to hold him sets off alarms he can’t quite silence. Your cheek rests between his shoulder blades, skin against scar, breath against memory.

He doesn't move at first.

Then his hand lifts—hesitates—and finally lands on yours, resting where it’s wrapped around his hips Not gripping, not pulling you closer. Just there.

“I didn’t ask you to,” he says. Gruff.

You can feel his heartbeat—strong, steady. Alive.

“Pancakes,” he repeats, quieter this time. And you catch the faintest curve at the corner of his mouth. Not quite a smile, but close enough.

“Don’t burn ‘em.”

His voice is softer now. Still rough, still Joel.

You slide from the bed in a hush, the sheets whispering behind you. Before distance can settle in, you lean in close and press a kiss to his temple—fleeting. Like it might ward off the ghosts for just a moment.

Your bare feet tap gently across the worn hardwood, and the air bites a little colder when you aren't caged against the warmth of him. The room is dim and quiet, dust caught in slivers of early morning light. It smells like old wood, whiskey, faint cedar. Him.

You scan everything—the way he lives, the wooden spooled mess he doesn’t clean up. Everything here is stitched with the weight of a life survived, not lived.

Your hand finds his flannel slung over the back of a chair, worn soft from time and habit. You slip it on — oversized and heavy with warmth—and spin once as you finish buttoning it up, grinning through a small exhale.

“Feelin’ like Joel Miller already,” you say, half to yourself, half to him.

From the bed, he lets out a small scoff. Doesn’t sound amused. Doesn’t sound angry either.

“Careful,” he mutters, voice raspy with the morning. “That ain’t somethin’ you wanna catch.”

You glance back at him — the way he’s still sitting there, one arm draped over his knee, body cut from shadow and silence. He watches you like you're some dream that he doesn't know how to comprehend.

“I dunno,” you say, quieter now. “Might be worth it.”

He looks away, jaw tight. Like he wants to believe you but doesn’t trust belief.

You round the corner, still in his flannel, steps light, almost playful—until the smell of coffee hits first. Familiar, grounding. But something else follows, quick on its heels. A shift. Presence.

“Joel? Did you make coff—” You stop.

She’s already there. Leaning against the counter, mug in hand, eyes too sharp for someone her age.

Ellie.

Your breath hitches half a beat, and you straighten instinctively. She somehow still manages to fill the room like she owns it — like she’s been here longer than time itself.

She nods toward the two mugs on the counter, smug as anything. “Made you coffee,” she says. Then, with a shit-eating grin and a wiggle of her eyebrows: “I guess the talk went well… last night.”

It’s not even a question. You blink, caught between embarrassment and a laugh. “Jesus… Ellie.”

“Not quite,” she shrugs, sipping from her mug. “But thanks.”

You lean against the frame of the doorway, tugging the flannel a little tighter around you. She catches the motion—notices it’s Joel’s—and her eyes glint with mischief.

“What time did you… get back last night?” you ask, trying to recover.

She shrugs again. “Early enough to hear him snore like a dying bear. Which, by the way, you might wanna get checked out. I thought something was in the walls.”

You let out a soft laugh despite yourself, shaking your head.

There’s a pause — just enough time for the teasing to fade. She looks at you for real now. Not cruel. Not guarded. Just watching.

Ellie nods, satisfied enough for now. Then she pushes the second mug toward you.

“Drink up, Flannel Thief,” she says. “You’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

Your eyes practically roll in your head. "Listen… I can't be teased about this forever… Can't you just say… ew gross old people, and get on with it?" You lean against the countertop, fingers reaching for pancake things. Measuring cup… bowl… something to mix with…

Ellie snorts, clearly delighted, and sips her orange juice with exaggerated smugness.

“Oh no, no no. See, you wish that’s how this worked,” she grins, watching you pull out a mixing bowl like it’s part of a comedy routine. “But unfortunately for you, I’m a mature and emotionally evolved young woman who believes in holding adults accountable… for being disgustingly affectionate in my presence.”

You groan, grabbing the nearly empty pancake mix box and shaking it, “You're 15.”

“Old people sex,” Ellie says flatly, grinning into her mug. “Right in the next room over. You should be ashamed. Honestly.”

You shoot her a look, but there’s no heat in it. “Alright, alright, Jesus. I’m already dying inside.”

She shrugs. “Then my work here is done.”

You start pouring contents into the bowl. She watches, but it’s not really about the pancakes. There’s a lull. Not awkward, just quiet—and when she speaks again, her tone’s softer. But still unmistakably Ellie.

“I’m just saying,” she murmurs, “I’ve never seen him sleep past dawn unless he was half-dead or actually happy.”

You stop whisking for a second, glance over. Her eyes are downcast, but not sad. More cautious and hope. Like she’s letting herself believe in something for once.

You offer a small smile. “Well… he’s still in bed, so either he’s dead, and I murdered him… or you’re stuck with me a little while longer.”

She doesn’t smile back right away, but her voice comes light:

“I guess I’ll deal.”

Behind you, you hear the floor creak — heavy, slow steps — and you know it’s Joel before you even turn. You don't look right away. You just pour the batter onto the skillet and ask over your shoulder:

“You want one pancake or two, old man?”

Joel stands in the doorway like he’s been there a minute, just listening. His hair’s a mess — that soft, grizzled kind of disheveled that only makes him look more like himself. The blue robe hangs open over a threadbare white T-shirt and those familiar flannel pants, one tie dragging against the floor. He scratches the back of his head like he doesn’t quite know what to do with his hands.

You turn to face him fully, spatula in one hand, the smell of browning batter filling the quiet between you.

“Or none at all,” you add, eyebrow raised, “since you think my cooking is sooo bad.”

His eyes flick between you and Ellie — who’s already pretending not to watch while sipping from her mug like it’s the most dramatic scene in a movie.

Joel exhales through his nose, like it’s taking every ounce of restraint not to be dragged into the teasing.

“You burn toast,” he says simply.

You gasp. “It was one time.”

Ellie raises a hand. “It was two. That I know of.”

Joel just walks to the table and sits down with a grunt, clearly satisfied with himself. “I’ll take two. Since you’re wearin’ my damn shirt, might as well feed me too.”

You shoot him a look over your shoulder, but there’s a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “Cute."

Joel grumbles something under his breath, but there’s a warmth in his eyes when he looks at you. Tired, guarded, but not closed off like before. Not entirely.

Ellie leans back in her chair, hands behind her head, eyes gleaming.

“This is so weird,” she mutters. “But also… kinda nice.”

Joel gives her a side-eye. “You don’t like it, you can go live with Tommy.”

She snorts. “Please. Free food and emotional bonding? I’m thriving.”

You plate up the pancakes and slide a stack in front of each of them, sitting across from Joel, your knee brushing his under the table. For the first time, the room feels full. Not just lived in—but alive.

You sit quietly, trying to act like it’s nothing—just breakfast, just fuckin' pancakes—but your fingers twist together in your lap beneath the table. It’s stupid. How nervous you are. Not just for him to like it, but for her to like it. Like somehow their approval means this whole fragile, reckless thing has weight.

Joel eats like a man who doesn’t want to admit he’s enjoying it. No theatrics, no compliments—just steady bites and the occasional small nod, like his silence is the only permission he knows how to give.

Ellie? She’s less subtle. She drowns hers in syrup and makes dramatic noises of satisfaction with every bite, clearly enjoying the chance to be chaotic.

“Not bad, Flannel Thief,” she says through a mouthful. “A solid seven-point-five. Could be higher with chocolate chips.”

You chuckle lightly, the knot in your chest loosening by a thread. “Next time, then.”

Joel’s fork slows, just for a second.

You catch it. You always do.

Next time.

You glance up at him again, eyes following the shape of his arms, those worn-in muscles that always carry more than just weight. They carry history. Guilt. Survival. Safety. Everything you never thought you'd find again.

Then your gaze reaches his face, and he’s already watching you.

Those brown eyes—soft in the morning light, a little wary, a little tired—but still warm. Still him.

You try to hide how much you’re looking. How much you want this to be something real.

“Y’know,” you murmur, voice just for him, “you don’t have to eat it out of guilt. I can handle the truth.”

Joel snorts softly, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. “Ain’t guilt. Just quiet. You oughta try it sometime… maybe next time.”

But there’s the smallest twitch at the edge of his mouth. The ghost of a smile, buried under years of practiced gruffness.

And for a moment, it feels like maybe. Just maybe. You're not the only one hoping this sticks.

masterlist

a/n2: this has been in my notes app ... ignore mistakes pls

308 notes · View notes