#i say from my job at the airport | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

skzdarlings · 2 months ago

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the rescue ; skz; aotm!hyunjin x reader

original ask: requested by @tattywood: ❛ i'm simply enjoying the view. it's not every day i get to fuck someone so pretty. ❜ would 100000% fit Hyunjin 🩶 + requested by anonymous: ❛ you're mine, and i take care of what belongs to me. ❜ with hyunjin? thank you

pairing: hwang hyunjin/reader content info: artist of the month!hyunjin was inspo here. gangster stuff, reader has been kidnapped and is in a see through nightdress, most violence off page though, bad guy hyunjin who is actually a good guy, arranged marriage, multiple smut scenes, not great communication but gets better lol. smut includes fingering, blow jobs, pussy eating, piv, spanking, light choking, husband/wife kink. word count: 6300 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy! <3

“I’ve already explained,” you say, equal parts frustrated and exhausted. “My husband isn’t coming for me.”

The gangster cronies still don’t seem to understand. You are tied to a chair in their basement (because they are preposterously corny goons, tying you up like a comically silly damsel in a ridiculous film) while they berate you for your husband’s tardiness.

You have tried explaining, over and over, that Hyunjin is not coming, but they won’t accept that answer. The fools try in vain to reach him again, but his line leads straight to a dial tone.

He went radio silent after the initial video contact, when your captors demanded a price for your healthy return.

Hyunjin was quiet on the call. Your husband is a quiet man in general, though he knows how to use his charms and work a room, and he has certainly perfected the art of severe intimidation. When your marriage was arranged, one mob family to the other, you mistakenly assumed you were marrying a monster.

Hyunjin is very reserved when not conducting business. He doesn’t engage in any of the more debauched sides of the business, unlike the men in your family. Evenings at home are silent and still, the penthouse view of the glittering cityscape the only real bustle.

Maybe that shouldn’t have surprised you. When he took over his family’s business, Hyunjin altered a lot of their practices, cutting the crueler sectors, opting for illicit crimes of more practical varieties.

The country is in a political chokehold, government affairs conducted none too differently from the criminal underworld. The cops are all dirty, the politicians corrupt, the wealthy depraved. Hyunjin has taken it upon himself to alleviate the pressure suffered by the regular people, the civilians who truly pay the price of a broken system.

In a world with no good guys, sometimes only villains can be heroes.

You think of his face now, how he certainly looked the part of a villain on the video call. Hyunjin has a very austere demeanour, exacerbated by his severe appearance: sharp marble features and dark, vicious eyes often further darkened with heavy lining, sleek black hair, scattered scars and tattoos, and the sort of regard that judges at a glance. He is young, but he has the air of a man who has already traversed the universe and found it wanting.

You think of his face now, the silent perusal he gave your bound body on that video call. You are dressed in your favourite nightgown, your underthings partially visible through the light material, but it was not willingly donned. At the time of your kidnapping, you were attired appropriately for the wealthy wife of a famous gangster. You were returning from a family visit when your captors intercepted you in transit from the airport.

Either to intimidate or threaten or just because they could, they made you remove all your jewelry and fine clothes. They rifled through your luggage and demanded you change into the nightgown.

Hyunjin recognized the nightdress, realized you must have been stripped, and likely inferred the very worst.

“Address,” was the only word Hyunjin said. He ended the call seconds later.

“Oh, he’ll come,” your captor says. He points at you with a hand that feels more threatening than a knife. It makes your terrified heart leap into your throat. “Or else.”

“He won’t, though!” you exclaim. “You’re wasting your time!”

They are not listening. They leave the basement, slamming the door behind them.

You huff and settle back in your bonds.

It is only a matter of time before they realize you are telling the truth. Hyunjin will not waste the money or resources to rescue you. He has always been respectful of the marriage arrangement, but your husband is not sentimental. There is a professional distance between you. His decision will be based in the logic of all his strategies: nothing personal, just a matter of business.

You sometimes see a different side of him, something buried under that quiet intensity. He collects fine art and spends hours poring over his favourite pieces, listening to music, losing himself to artistic fantasies. He always comes back, but you know there are other worlds in his mind.

Every attempt to bridge the gap has been gently rebuffed, but there have been moments when your husband seems curious about you. You often catch him staring. He gets a wistful look that softens his face, even with that shield of make-up. His eyes are gentle when you talk about your passions. You never let his quietude deter your friendly penchant for chatter. He seems more than content to listen. He remembers everything too.

You know he finds you attractive, if nothing else. He has caved on that front several times over, though not right away. He didn’t touch you on the wedding night, nor the honeymoon. He left your beach holiday early to return to business, leaving you in a villa with security and his credit card. It was the first time you realized the material world was no replacement for true companionship. You missed his dark eyes.

Your family also had expectations. There would be consequences if the marriage fell through. You would be blamed, not him. Worried he would renege on the nuptials, you did everything to try and seduce him.

He politely rejected you at every turn.

Just when you were resigned, he arrived home after a job. It was almost three in the morning when he entered the penthouse. You have separate bedrooms but they share a connecting bathroom. You could hear him cursing above the running water.

You only meant to peek. The sliding door on your side was partially ajar so you tip-toed over.

Hyunjin was standing in front of the mirror, shirtless, pressing a rag to his wounded shoulder. There was a mess of blood streaked down his back, making you gasp at the terrible mosaic of pain, his body littered with violent scars.

That gasp contained multitudes, for the horror, for his beauty. His dark eyes were as severely lined as ever, expression intense as he breathed hard through the pain. Smooth black hair fell across his face when he tipped his head.

He froze at the sound of your gasp. His turn was very slow, eyes peeking through the curtain of his short hair. They captured yours.

You held your breath.

Eventually, he straightened, flicking his hair out of his face. He looked in the mirror and sighed.

“You can come in,” he said. “This is your home too.”

You slid the door open, just enough to squeeze through. Your attention was utterly transfixed on his bleeding shoulder. You could see the wound was a thin stripe. It was not deep so stitches were not necessary, but it was slightly out of his reach as it sloped towards his back.

“Oh, Hyunjin,” you said, thoughtlessly taking the rag right out of his hands.

In spite of the violence that raised you, or maybe because of it, you can’t stand to see suffering. You and Hyunjin have had that in common from the start. You were quick to help him clean the wound, wordlessly wiping all the blood then applying cream across the clotted cut.

He flinched when the stinging cream made contact. You went to apologize but your words evaporated when your eyes met through the mirror. You were surprised to find him already looking at you, that expressive gaze as thoughtful as ever.

“How did this happen?” you couldn’t help but ask, eyes rivetted to his reflection. “You – you have people to protect you.” You managed to rip your gaze away, looking at your task, feeling hot in the face.

“I do,” he said. “But I’d never ask someone to do something I’m not willing to do myself.”

This did not surprise you to hear. It is obvious that Hyunjin cares very deeply about the wellbeing of other people. It is a fact known to few. It aggravates you at times, but his reputation does not seem to bother him. He would rather people think him a monster while he secretly does good rather than be praised in public while cruel in private.

You have never known another man like him. Looking at that scar that night, the realization truly struck you.

Your fingers began to tremble where they brushed his bare skin, your eyes widening as you looked at the scar and many others. If something happened to him, what would become of you? Certainly, as his widow, you would be financially sound, but what did that matter? This world would lose something irreplaceable if it lost Hwang Hyunjin. This penthouse could be brimming with silver and gold and it would be empty, worthless.

Tears in your eyes, you succumbed to desire, kissing him very gently on his hurt shoulder.

“Hyunjin,” you said, your eyes closed, lips grazing his skin as you spoke. “Please make sure you always come home, okay?”

He did not answer at first. When you lifted your eyes and looked in the mirror, those dark eyes were so enflamed that you were surprised nothing caught fire.

“Hyunjin?” you said softly.

“You mean that,” he said, not quite a question, more like a realization.

“Of course,” you replied. You looked at his scarred back again, let your fingertips brush down the length of his spine. It made him stand a little straighter. “Have you ever known me to lie?” you asked.

He finally turned around, looking at you with an long-engrained wariness, but also a hunger. He was a starving man presented with a banquet, but one who did not easily trust when sitting at someone else’s table.

“You’re a smart woman,” he said. “I know that. And I know that you’re – good.”

Good was an exhale, like the word was too heavy for his tongue. You realized that his wariness was less suspicion for you than hesitation regarding himself. He was only starving because he though himself undeserving of the meal he wanted.

“You’ve seen – and done – many bad things tonight, haven’t you?” you asked.

Having the full force of his gaze was overwhelmingly heady. You remember how it made your heart race like you were being chased, your breath catching over and over until you were almost panting.

Arousal struck quickly, a sensation like you never experienced before. You thought you understood attraction, but not until that moment when he released a breath, so close to your face, and you became truly aware of his proximity. Of him, of all that he was, all that he did. His character, his hidden depths.

Your husband.

It made your racing heart thunder something fierce, your blood pumping hotly, throbbing places you did not know were so sensitive.

You desperately wondered what was on his mind. The gears in his head were spinning and whirring, delaying his response. Was he feeling the same tension? Were his thoughts the same realization?

My wife.

“Yes,” he finally said.

“Is there something I can do to help?” you asked.

His tattooed hand cupped your head, tilting it just so. It made your lips part with a gasp, eyelids heavy with anticipation for a kiss.

He took his time looking at you, like he was scrubbing all those bad memories away, replacing them with the flustered look on his aroused wife’s face.

“Yes,” he said again, and kissed you for the first time.

You were so glad he rebuffed your previous half-hearted advances, clumsy seductions made out of obligation rather than desire. It was so different to that kiss. You would not have known how to even ask for a kiss like that. You never knew what you were missing.

Your quiet husband and his multitudes. All that simmering intensity, hot just below the surface of his icy demeanour, burned right through his skin. His kiss was ravishing, entirely possessive, like he wished to take your whole essence into him and hold it forever.

He walked you backwards. With a snap of his wrist, he slid the door open the rest of the way, so sharp that it tried to bounce back. He continued onward, kissing you until you were dizzy with it.

He picked you up just to put you on the bed himself. Your kiss separated only then as you landed with a bounce and a breath.

He loomed over the edge of the bed, this man who was both stranger and husband, hero and villain. He looked at you like he already loved you. He looked at you and saw the reciprocation. You had fallen for him without realizing you had ever even stumbled.

He ran his hands through his hair, the sleek black locks fluttering back into place. His eyes were still rivetted to your face, to your body. You were wearing the nightdress you are wearing now. It is why it became your favourite.

He looked down at you, the material translucent enough to see the details of your body. It broke through that last layer of ice. He surrendered with a choked breath.

He unclasped a holster on his thigh, dropped a knife that was hidden in a pocket. Once unarmed, his hands went to his belt. You watched those nimble, efficient fingers, swallowing hard. You were aching to an embarrassing degree, undoubtedly obvious in your desires. No one ever warned you it would feel like this, just being looked at, never mind touched.

Then his belt was on the floor and he touchedyou for real. His calloused hands moved up your thighs, pushing the nightdress up and out of his way. He climbed on top of you, swift as a feline, mouth descending onto yours with that same desperate hunger as before.

Recollection makes you crave another kiss. You think you will always be starving for more.

“Hyunjin,” you whispered, hands on his face, his shoulders, down to his chest.

He took your hands and laced your fingers with his, pinning those hands to the bed. He kissed you again, long and slow. It was all more sensual than desperate.

His voice, however, was desperate when he begged, “Let me make you feel good, please.” He kissed down your face, your jaw, your throat. “Please, my wife.” He kissed further down still, through your nightdress, tracing the curve of your breast with his tongue, wetting the material and awakening every nerve beneath it. “My wife,” he repeated.

“My husband.” The words left your lips in a dizzy, delirious whisper.

It was all the confirmation he needed. Those deft and skilled hands, so quick to assemble weapons and pull triggers, applied themselves with a startling gentleness. He took you apart and put you together with the same efficient ease.

He hooked his fingers in the only material between him and his desire, tugged it out of his way. His fingers went to you, slipping through all that wetness. Those intense eyes rolled back even though it was just his fingers inside you, then he closed his eyes like it was too much, and it seemed he had to temper himself, murmuring nonsense as he let his fingers sink into you.

He kissed you again, drinking down every sigh and gasp and moan while he fucked you with his long fingers. It was like he could taste your pleasure, like he was trying to get drunk on it, every noise you made filling his mouth. He gave them back and brought you over a peak, first with his hands, then with his mouth. He laid between your legs and put your thighs around his head, losing himself entirely in you.

He did not remove a single article of your clothing nor his pants, not that first time. He simply held the material to the side as he unzipped and finally got inside you. It made your whole body keen, coming to life like it never had before. You forgot all your sensibilities and let every wanton sound and action loose.

He responded in kind. His kiss tasted like your pleasure, his heart pounding as fast as yours where your chests pressed together. You were careful near his injured shoulder, fingertips dodging scars. Your soft touch made him whimper, this powerful man entirely undone by a few caresses.

His skin was hot and he worked up a sweat, but his stamina seemed endless. He always wanted more.

You fell asleep tucked in his arms, content to believe the walls had crumbled. However, they revealed themselves in the morning light, as concrete as ever. He slipped away and left a note to excuse his absence as he was called away to business. You thought about phoning or messaging him, but those lines were not always secure, not for such intimate conversations.

When he returned a few days later, he hid behind those concrete walls, but too much had changed. There was now an awareness of your proximity and your distance. The lack of intimacy was not called into question before, the absence of something being a nothing. But now that nothing was something, or had been something for a moment, and it made you both very aware of how it was now missing – and anticipating always when it might again appear.

He tried very hard to keep away, to stay cordial at best, his habitual quietude even heavier than before. But while his silence was significant, so was his glance. Every time you turned around, he was already looking at you, a longing in his eyes and a thought on his lips that he never dared to speak aloud.

You granted him some distance for a time. When it became abundantly obvious he was holding himself in check, you realized that your own vulnerability was required to bridge the gap.

One night you crossed through the bathroom, slid open the door on his side. You found him at his desk, dressed down in a white dress shirt and pants. His blazer was discarded on the floor, his face still made up.

He stood quickly when you entered, though he didn’t say anything.

It was strange to imagine this man would need any reassurance, but you felt that was the case. His fingers fidgeted at his sides, his roving eyes studious.

You said nothing. You approached him, laid your hands on his chest, and gently guided him back into his chair. He sat slowly, his eyes on your face the entire time, even when he had to tip his head back to peer up at you.

You ran your fingers through his hair. When you entered the room, his face was tightly screwed in an expression of aggravation, but all those harsh lines softened as you traced a thumb down the sharp slope of his cheek.

There were some wipes on his desk. You took one and began to carefully remove that shield of dark make-up. His hand lifted but not to stop you, simply to rest his palm on your waist. He began to really touch you, feeling the shape of your body through your robe as you helped him come back to himself.

“Hello,” you finally said, looking at his bare face. Still impossibly beautiful.

“Hello,” he replied.

His fingertips dipped towards the hem of the robe. Before he could distract you with your own pleasure, you sunk to your knees in front of him. This startled him, his hand frozen in the air as you fit yourself between his open knees.

He caught your hand, his reflexes fast, before it could reach his fly. You could see he was already affected, a heavy bulge in the black material making your mouth water and core tighten.

He squeezed your hand and you looked up at his face. He tipped his head, blinked rapidly, an expression of mild confusion.

You took your hand back and unknotted your robe. The silk fell from your shoulders and down, sliding like water right off your body. You were completedly naked underneath.

It clarified everything, his confusion gone, replaced with surprise.

“You—” he began. It was interrupted when you put your head in his lap, resting on his thigh. You led his hand to the back of your neck and kissed him through his pants. It made his fingers clasp tighter around you.

“Please,” you said.

He would never deny you anything. Not the smallest gift nor grandest gesture. When you started a new charity to further your combined philanthropic efforts, he spared no expense in aiding the endeavour. You shared passions, and now you shared this.

He was stiff at the start, but gradually let himself go lax in his seat. His hand kept a steady grip on the back of your neck, not guiding but holding, like he thought you might disappear otherwise. He murmured your name, letting his head fall back as you worked him in your mouth.

You intended to make him finish like that, seeking nothing for yourself at that precise moment. He had other ideas, needing more of your shared pleasure to take him over that brink.

He lifted your face, adjusted his pants, and was on his feet in a matter of seconds. That hand on your neck dragged you up, up, up until your naked body was pressed against his clothed one. He clung to you needily, claiming your mouth in a wanting kiss.

His hands moved over you, every new inch of skin making him moan as he walked you towards the bed. The kiss only broke when you both sat down, his lips against yours as he breathed, almost smiling, “My pretty wife.”

“Hyunjin,” you said, shaking your head, feeling suddenly shy just because of a simple compliment.

He did not allow you to curl into yourself with any shame. When you tried, he seized you, pulling you onto his lap so you straddled it. His eyes moved up and down your body, hands following, from your thighs to hips to waist and up.

“What are you doing?” you said, laughing helplessly when he kissed somewhere ticklish on your throat. The sound made him smile, even softer than before, though it turned a little wicked as his mouth went lower.

“I’m simply enjoying the view,” he said, then wrapped his lips around the stiff peak of your breast, ran his tongue up and over. He licked and kissed back up to your mouth. “It’s not everyday I get to fuck someone so pretty.”

As he said this, he opened his pants again, eyes on yours as he grabbed your thighs and moved you so he could thrust up into you. His hips moved with a slow roll, letting you adjust to him. It had been a little while, and this angle was different.

And Hyunjin is not small. Your husband is built in perfect proportion, his body a long, hard, slender build – everything inside you at that moment was no exception. This angle made you whimper, clinging to him like he was a life preserver in a storm. The roll of his hips kept coming like waves and you were sure you would drown otherwise.

Your arms were around his neck, his graceful but strong hands digging into the meat of your thighs as he fucked you. He felt impossibly deep, every upward stroke feeling like it was bursting past something, pushing everything inside your body up to your throat.

You swallowed again and again, the taste of him still on your lips, the feel of him inside every inch of you. You clenched and tightened involuntarily, just pure animal reaction, and it made him moan and find all those sweet spots to make it happen again.

“Help,” was your somewhat nonsensical request, blurted in the midst of some moaning babbling.

Fortunately, he was and is a smart man. He understood. He clasped you tight to his body and fell back on the bed, thrusting up into you with sharper, more focussed determination, faster until you were weeping on his chest, delirious with pleasure. His shirt was unbuttoned and you accidentally ripped a few buttons right off, trying to press your face to bare skin.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you said as you tumbled over a height you never reached before. You never knew you could come just from that, stimulated somewhere so deep inside you, but it made you come undone in his arms.

He watched you unravel and it made him follow, clinging to you as he just barely pulled out before coming between your dripping thighs. It was all so messy and wet, your legs trembling, but it felt so good that it hardly mattered.

He caught his breath, then looked at your face just lose that breath again. He moaned and dragged you in for another kiss.

Then you were on your back, the night far from over.

That second night is the one that truly opened the door to more. Though your husband can be reticent in other regards, he is not quiet when he is inside you. You have come together again and again, a conversation with your bodies as you look for pleasure in a dangerous world. You always find it, tucked in the protective circle of his arms, wrapped around every inch of him.

You have been out of his arms for too long. Your visit to your family grew tedious before long. Your home is with Hyunjin now and you were eager to return.

Now it seems you may never see it again. You may never see him again.

No.

Just like the night when you took control for yourself, you must take control now. You realize if anything is to happen, then you must take the reins of your own rescue. You would not want Hyunjin to compromise himself or his important business. You know if something bad happened to you, it would weigh on his conscious, even if it was the better business decision. You must eliminate the need for choice.

It turns out, comical rope bindings are truly best suited for silly movies. When the men come to check on you again, you have slipped free of your bindings. There was an array of weapons in the room, so carelessly disposed because the assailants never assumed you would get free – or, if you did get free, that you would not know how to use them.

It is true, you do not like violence.

That does not mean you do not understand it.

You leave the two men unconscious in their basement. Unfortunately, you cannot find your suitcase and you do not want to hang around, so you venture outside in your nightgown. You are debating your next move when a car pulls into the driveway.

You back away quickly, raising the gun you stole as more men get out of the vehicle. You only stay your hand because you recognize one of them, though it takes a second to place him as one of Hyunjin’s lieutenants.

Then Hyunjin emerges. You have seen your husband before and after a confrontation, but never during it. If you thought he was an intimidating figure in the aftermath, he is all danger and darkness as he storms up the driveway now. There is such an energy radiating from him, it makes you stumble and forget yourself entirely.

Then he stumbles, recognizing you. You are both startled, staring at each other with the gun raised between you.

He looks nowhere but your eyes.

“Hyunjin?” you finally say.

“I—” He looks at you, the gun, the nightdress. He shakes his head. Some of that bravado returns when he says, “I’m here to save you.”

“Ah,” you say. You slowly lower the gun, at a loss how to reply. You were so resigned to the idea this was all still business. The reality of your husband risking himself to rescue you from unknown hostiles is making your heart pound.

In the end, all you can think to say is, “Sorry. You’re late.”

That wicked smile crosses his face, his tongue pushing at the corner of his mouth. He is suddenly nothing but amused, looking at you, then at the house.

“I can see that,” he says.

He whistles sharply and gestures to the house with a gloved hand. His lieutenants run past you and charge the door, no doubt heading inside to finish the job you started.

You turn to watch them go. In your distraction, Hyunjin grabs your arm. He is fast, effectively disarming you. He catches the gun with a twirl before tossing it aside.

It is not the gun he wants; it’s you.

Still holding your wrist, he tugs you into him. You throw your arms around him. The hug is surprisingly chaste, his face in your neck as he squeezes you like it is the only thing keeping him alive and standing.

“Are you hurt?” he asks.

When in his arms, it seems impossible to consider you could ever feel any pain.

You shake your head, daring to kiss his cheek. He turns his face to yours, your lips close enough to brush in a swipe.

“I’m all right now,” you say. “Sorry I beat you to the punch. I – I wasn’t sure if—”

His brow crinkles. That gloved hand goes from your wrist to your chin, seizing it between thumb and forefinger. He tips your head so he can look at your face. He always regards you like he does one of his masterpieces, like he can never get his fill, like there is always something new to find. He is enchanted every time.

“You’re mine,” he says. “And I take care of what belongs to me.”

You gasp when those fingers go from your chin to your throat, just enough to pull you in that last breath of a space. He kisses you there in the sunlight, utterly shameless.

“Do not ever doubt that,” he says. His eyes are soft with his affection, but his voice is hard, skirting the edge of a threat he would issue an adversary. It makes you tingle from head to toe. “Do I need to remind you?”

You never actually answer. You are not sure if your answer would have made a difference, as Hyunjin is determined to show you the very second you are home.

You reach the penthouse. There is no time to shower or decompress once you cross the threshhold. He sweeps you off your feet, your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist. You are wearing his blazer over your nightdress to preserve your modesty – not that it will last long.

He carries you to the bedroom where so many slow and subtle exchanges took place. Now, he is not slow or subtle. He is a force of nature. He tells you that he held no greater fear than losing you and he tried to keep his distance, but he regretted it the moment he saw you on that video call.

“You’re my wife,” he says, peeling his blazer off your body. “I’m your husband. There is nothing I should be holding back.”

“Yes,” you say, running your fingers through that smooth black hair. You shiver as he bunches the fabric of your nightdress, the material spilling over his fingers. “Don’t hold back,” you say, mouth open against his, stealing his every breath. “Do whatever you want.”

He tells you exactly what he wants, using his words for a change, finally letting those walls come down. He whispers every filthy thought into your ear, between kisses, between bites. You shiver at every suggestion.

And so, moments later, he is sitting on your bed. He arranges you to lay across his lap, facedown in the pillows while he runs his hands down your spine and over the curve of your ass.

“You’re my wife,” he says. The first tap of his open palm is through the thin material of your nightdress. It is truly just a warning tap, just enough to make you bounce. “Don’t ever doubt me again,” he says, swinging that strong hand a little harder.

This time a yelp escapes your lips. You wriggle until he pins you down, a hand on the back of your neck and the other lifting your dress. He already stripped your underthings, his open palm smoothing down all that bare skin.

You tingle with anticipation, braced yet still unprepared for the sharp smack he next delivers. You feel it tingle all the way up to your head, as well as the next one, and the next. You squirm under his firm grip, groaning his name as your thighs get tense and press together.

“Don’t say my name,” he says, and smacks you again. “Who am I?”

“M-my husband,” you say, practically mewling like a kitten when he next brings his hand down. “My husband,” you say again.

“And you are—”

“Your wife,” you say, though it comes out almost like a sob, a desperate gasp as he slips his fingers between your thighs and finds a new way to torture you. With your backside hot and stinging, the pleasure of his hand in that sensitive place feels amplified by a tenfold.

“Husband,” you say, hips bucking. His free hand goes from the back of your neck to your lower spine, holding you in his lap as he slowly finger-fucks you.

“Yes?” he says.

You do not even remember what you were going to say, or beg, or plead. You are overcome with sensation, tingling all over, intensifying the press of his fingers as he curls his fingers into that soft, soft place. Then you are really squirming, helplessly, instinctively, whining into the pillows.

“I make you feel good,” he says. “I take care of you. You, who are so good, and so smart, but so—”

You cry out when he angles his hand just a little differently. Your vision swims with stars as he speeds up.

“So soft,” he says, his own voice going soft, just a whisper as he makes you come all over his hand in a throbbing, aching, desperate wet mess. “Just for me,” he says in that whisper. “Just for your husband.”

“Mmmf,” is all the response you have left in you.

Your thighs are trembling and your pussy throbbing with aftershocks when he picks you up. He stands and turns, laying you on your side in the bed. You are grateful, as your backside still stings, though you suspect he is not done yet.

He strips out of his clothes, tearing through his shirt, leaving the pants in a heap. He forgets to remove his necklace. All that silver is cold against your hot skin as he lays down behind you. You do not have time to linger on it, as he gathers up the hem of your dress and adjusts himself behind you.

He has taken you many times, in many ways, many positions. When you are on your hands and knees, he is overtaken by a primal urge, your hips as leverage in his hands as he pounds into you like it is a chase. When you are on your back, he sinks into you slowly and deeply, rocking his hips into yours like he intends to fuck you forever. When you are in his lap, he rolls his hips in steady, needy waves, captivated by the sight of you in his arms.

He lays behind you now and wraps his arms around you, coaxes your thighs apart. Your nightdress is bunched every which way, leaving nothing to the imagination, and you feel especially exposed and vulnerable in this position somehow. Perhaps it is the fact he is the one holding you open, keeping you in position so he can take you.

You let yourself fall into it, fall into him. You let him tell you, with words and actions, exactly how he feels.

Before it ends, you change position. He lays back and you straddle his hips while stripping off your dress entirely. He keeps rolling up into you, only stopping when you plant your hands on his chest to slow him down. Then he practically sinks in the mattress, murmuring your name. His make-up is smudged, his calloused hands rough on your body. Whatever pains you experienced have been overtaken by his hands, by the smarting on your backside, still tender as you bring your body down onto his again and again. He has completely claimed you for himself and you take the same in turn.

“Hyunjin,” you say. “My husband, oh—”

He kisses your hand, long and hard, like he needs his mouth on some part of you desperately. Your fingers are curled into his pretty mouth when he comes, his hands on your hips and his cock buried inside you.

“Oh,” is your final sound before you slump on top of him, skin to skin.

He rolls you onto your side, though he keeps you wrapped around him, his arms around you in turn. His hair is already a sweaty mess and you rub your thumb through some of his shadowy make-up, but those familiar dark eyes are gazing at you with so much warmth. There is no more ice, no more cold concrete.

“I should let you rescue me more often,” you say with a laugh.

He doesn’t laugh back, but he does smile softly. It should be incongruous with his severe appearance, but it somehow comes together, layers of him exposed all at once as he strokes your cheek.

He looks at you like his favourite work of art.

“You were the one who rescued you,” he says. “Just like you rescued me.”

You cannot find the words to reply, so you kiss him. It speaks volumes, and he replies, kissing back.

You lose yourself to the sweetness, to the heat, to the passion, to all those things more, knowing there are many more to come with this man as your husband.

#hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #skz x reader #skz smut #stray kids x you #hyunjin x you #skz x you #valentinesdaystories

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bbokicidal · 3 months ago

Text

"Are you serious...?" - Angst! [Hyung Line SKZ]

Notes : These are all obviously fictional situations, the red flags are just based off of habits we know they have (like Chan's need to be needed, Changbin being blunt/honest.) This post isn't me saying I think they have these red flags, it's just a fun angsty prompt I wrote down. If you don't like it, scroll and don't read.

If people like this - a maknae line will be written! If not, prolly not lol.

Warnings : Angst with no comfort, red flag behavior - some of these aren't even that bad or could be misunderstandings but still.

Maknae Line | "Good Luck, Babe." Part Two!! Here!

BangChan - Brushing off/Having the wrong priorities

One time, it was him forgetting a dinner date - the next, he was staying at the studio late when he was supposed to be meeting your parents for the first time. You let it slide because ultimately you understood that his job took up a lot of his time, and honestly? It wasn't easy to forget about but he had a tendency to take care of you and make up with it by quick gestures before he left the apartment or when he came home; Soft back hugs, quick cuddles before he fell asleep, or kisses in passing. Lately, however, he's been slacking. He'd begun to shrug you off any time you'd touched his arm or hand, nudging you away while he typed on his laptop. He'd tip his head away from yours while laying in bed together or he'd sit further away on the dressing room sofa.

The tipping point was when he was getting ready to go on stage and was standing in wait for the others to be ready. There was still five minutes and Chris looked a bit jittery, so you figured a quick hug or kiss would help ease his nerves. However as soon as you approach and reach to touch his arms, he steps back and keeps his eyes trained on his phone. You reach again, hesitant, and his brow furrows as he maneuvers to the side to get away. "Don't touch me."

Your lips pop apart in surprise. "...Are you serious?"

He looks over, eyes briefly wandering your face before he reaches to fix his in-ear and walks away to the door, disappearing around the corner and leaving you standing there alone. Even the soft touch of Felix's hand on your back as he passed by was warmer than anything you'd felt from Chris in the last two months.

Lee Know - Keeping secrets / Prioritizing Privacy within himself

Minho had a very, very bad habit of not telling you things. In this instance; That he was leaving for tour in two days.

A world. fucking. tour. The only reason you didn't know about it was because you hadn't been out of your home in the last few weeks unless it was for a quick coffee at the cafe or to grab lunch with a friend. Work was heavy during this time of year and as someone who worked remotely, you often spent grueling hours in your office on your computer - hunched, tired, head pounding and back sore.

So you would think that when you entered your bedroom one evening after just finishing up sorting files in your office, you'd be happy to see your boyfriend already there. And you were for a moment, until you realized he was packing three rather large suitcases full of his clothes and necessities. He looks to you, then away, wordless.

"Are.. you.. moving out, or something?" You breathe in a laugh, eyes wandering over Minho as he folds a t-shirt and tucks it into his suitcase with the others.

"No. I have to bring all of my luggage to the company building tomorrow so they can have it at the airport when we leave for Australia."

"Australia?" Your brows quirk. "When -- Why --"

"Tour." He stops his movements to stare over at you, a hint of irritation evident on his face. "We're going on tour for six months."

"Six--" You breathe out, eyes widening. "Six months. And you didn't think to tell me?"

Minho moves to drop a pair of pants in his suitcase. "I would've told you if you could handle the news, maybe. Every time I mention leaving all you do is whine and pout about how long I'll be gone."

"I get upset, yes, what girlfriend wouldn't be upset that her boyfriend is leaving for a week or two? But six months, Minho, I --"

"Don't start." He all but huffs out the words, shutting you up immediately. Minho turns away to continue folding items of clothing on the shared bed and as you watch him do so, you stand and have to wonder if you want to be there when he returns home from the tour.

Changbin - Not knowing the difference between being rude and being blunt

He didn't seem to understand when to stop. Changbin had a tendency to be honest, sometimes to a fault, though you never seemed to complain about it because most of the time it wasn't a big deal. He called Jeongin out for saying the wrong word when singing, or blatantly threw people under the bus when a joke was taken too far.

And he was like that with you, too. He would be honest with you when you asked his opinion of something - was the shirt unflattering? Were you being too loud? Was your makeup bad today?

He'd lay it on you point blank. Yes, the shirt fit a little weird. Yes, you were being a bit loud in his ear. And yes, your eyeliner was going in two different directions. Criticism that was asked for. But when it wasn't asked for? Oh.

"What is your problem?" He bites as he follows you down the hallway to your bedroom. "We have ten minutes, just wear the damn dress and put your shoes on. We have to go."

Your huffs mix with stifled sobs as you rip open your dresser drawer and dig for other options, hands shaking and eyes teary. "You just told me the dress looks ugly, Changbin. I'm not wearing it out if you don't like it--!"

"What does it matter if i don't like it? It's your body, wear what you want!"

"You're my boyfriend!" You retaliate, frustrated. "I want to look nice for you and -- for the group, and I want you to like what I wear, obviously!"

Changbin lets his eyes roll before he turns out of the bedroom doorway and down the hall. You pause to watch him go, listening as he bites about how he doesn't have time for this and needs to leave for the group dinner. You stand in front of your dresser in shock as the door to your apartment slams shut, leaving you in silence and all on your own.

Hyunjin - Being too cocky / Making you feel inferior

It hadn't happened before now, and you weren't sure why it happened at all. But it did.

You'd approached to gently hold onto your boyfriend's arm as he talked to an older idol - someone he looked up to and had just done a collaboration video with. You'd only come up to tell him that the food was delivered and he could have dinner before his stage, but the look he gave you when he finally turned his head was .... wild.

No words were needed. The way his eyes directed to the side you stood at before falling as if looking you over and then immediately looking away; The way the smirk on his lips only widened and his tongue pushed at his canines as he redirected his gaze elsewhere. The soft scoff that left his lips. The way his arm slipped away from your hold in clear nuance that he didn't want you touching him.

It made you feel like less. Like he was pretending he didn't know you - Like he wanted you to bug off and disappear from his line of sight.

Hyunjin had a tendency to put on a confident, bold persona when he was on stage and at first you thought maybe that was why he was acting this way. It was lingering in his body from the dance video he'd just filmed with the other idol and eventually, it would wear off.

But as he turned from you and lifted a hand to fix his hair, he talks to the other as if you're not even there at all. And you have to wonder if it's a persona for the video, or a side of him you had just experienced for the first time. Now you could only hope it wouldn't happen again.

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz imagine #bangchan x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #leeknow x reader #skz angst #stray kids angst

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mywritersmind · 19 days ago

Note

girl i need something - comfort, fluff whatever about that race yesterday with lando, my heart needs somethingggg thank you <3

HOME SWEET - LN4

listen up : comfort!!!!!! thanks for the request i think we all needed this.

word count : 643

⋆｡‧˚⋆

As soon as I hear the dropping of bags by the front door, I jump up and run to him.

“Lan!” I scream. He catches me in his arms, my feet hovering over the floor as his arms go around my waist. His breath on my skin only excites me, his head resting on my chest as I mumble into his hair, “I missed you.”

He shakes his head, setting me down softly but not letting go, “You have no clue how happy I am to be back.” His hands go to my face, holding me as if I'm about to run away.

I take his hand from my face, smiling up at him. This whole weekend has been hell. I watched his every move on TV, had every alert on for his texts, and sat in my bed on the phone with him as he vented.

I take him to the couch, he lays down and I promptly climb next to him, nestling close to my boyfriend. His eyes are closed when I run my hand up and down his arm.

“Wanna talk about it?” It. It as is every death threat, comment, or video that’s been sent to him. It as in the media. It as in the race.

“No. I want to talk about you.” He turns to me slightly, kissing my head as his hand runs through my hair, “Weren’t too worried?”

I scoff, “You know me. I’m always worried.” This looks like it hurt him. His face morphs into a frown, “But I'm proud of you. And I definitely wasn’t screaming and running around the apartment so if we receive a noise complaint, it’s all a lie.”

He finally cracks a smile, “I love you.” he whispers as I press a kiss to his lips, soft and sweet.

“You’re everything to me.” I whisper back, even though it’s just the two of us, “I just hate seeing you sad.”

He breathes out, “I’m never sad with you.” He pouts a bit, not meeting my eyes and playing with my hair. I sigh because I know that’s not true, but my job isn’t to bring him down more.

I push my face into his hoodie, he smells like cologne and the airport, “I made you cookies.”

I can practically hear the smile in his voice, “So that’s what that smell is.” I giggle, standing up as he follows.

We stand in the kitchen with a shared glass of milk and twenty mini cookies, “No offense love… but this is the best thing you’ve ever made.” I laugh, trying not to choke on the chocolate in my mouth.

“I’m not that bad of a cook!” I slap his chest teasingly even though I know I am.

He gives me a little smirk, shoving another cookie into his mouth as I scoff, “You said you love my pasta!”

He’s laughing with me now, “Yeah- the buttered noodles!” I roll my eyes, attempting to walk away before he corners me.

He’s smiling still, it makes me smile. Lando’s hands on my hips hold me still. “I love you.” he presses a kiss onto my neck, “And your cookies. And your pasta. And your shit food.” I'm giggling as he covers me in kisses.

I try to move back but am intercepted by he countertop, he’s tickling me and knowingly making me laugh and squirm. He slows down, meeting my eyes.

“I love you too.” I say, my hands on his arms, “You and your pickiness.” He scoffs then, laughing and leaning in to kiss my lips.

He’s warm and comforting, just like my magical cookies that seemed to heal him. When his lips leave mine, his head drops to my shoulder; his curls brushing against my neck as he leaves a soft kiss onto my shoulder.

#fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando norris comfort #lando norris fluff

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smileysuh · 8 months ago

Text

heart aches

🌙 starring. Jeong Jaehyun x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. Your ex finds your sweet spot as easily as ever, as if it hasn’t been two years since his tongue stroked this specific patch of skin and made your whole body tingle with pleasure. You let out a shaky sigh, threading your fingers through his hair and relaxing against the pillows. “Don’t leave me again,” you whisper. “Never again,” he promises.

tw/cw. foreplay, fingering, mutual masturbation, hand job hand fucking, spitting, finger sucking, inklings of oral fixation, praise, dirty talk, pining, reminiscing, breast worship, teasing, Jae being a simp, unprotected sex, handholding while fucking, Jae is pretty vanilla but pent up as hell, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 5.3k

🍭 aus. ex's to lovers, non idol au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I don't normally do angst, but Idk, this felt right for some reason this month

Prologue:

“What’s wrong?” Jaehyun asks, watching you fiddle around the bedroom while he cuddles with your cat on the bed.

Part of you wants to push back your feelings - you’d kind of been hoping to talk to him at the airport in the morning - but you should have known Jaehyun would realize something is up with you. It’s been a nice long weekend having him home with you.

It’s almost been like he never left.

Almost.

With a deep sigh, you go to sit on the foot of your mattress, staring down at your hands. “I can’t do this anymore,” you say quietly.

The room feels achingly silent, and then the comforter ruffles as Jaehyun sits up. “This?” he asks.

“Us.” The word hurts to even say. “The distance… I mean, I knew continuing our relationship while you’re in a different city at a new university doing your graduate program would be rough… but… I just didn’t know I’d ever feel this lonely.”

Tears are welling in your eyes. You don’t want to break up with Jaehyun- he’s had your heart for four years. Starting over with someone new sounds impossible- but at the same time, being away from him hurts more than you could ever have imagined. It hurts when he calls you every night, being the perfect boyfriend, smiling and telling you about his day. It hurts because you thought you’d go through life together- you thought you’d be there to see it all yourself, not hear about it after the fact on the phone.

“Come here,” Jaehyun says softly, moving your cat off his lap so he can open his arms to you.

You allow Jaehyun to pull you into an embrace, his fingers stroking your hair. His heart is thundering in his ribcage, and you can hear it as you cuddle closer.

“I’m sorry that it came to this,” he breathes, “but I understand.”

You can’t help the tears now, and a choked sob escapes you. You grab at the front of his soft hoodie, wanting to crush the emblem of his new school. Part of you wishes he’d never been accepted into the elite business graduate program, but another part knows that Jaehyun deserves to be where he is now.

You love him, more than you’ve ever loved anyone, and that’s what makes this so painful.

Jaehyun needs to focus on his studies, to build a new life for himself across the country- and you need to do the same. You can’t be a ghost anymore, walking through life like a zombie and waiting to hear from him, constantly checking the time zone differences and calculating what he’s doing based on schedules.

“I can still…” you rub at your eyes, swallowing thickly, “I’ll take you to the airport in the morning-”

“It’s okay, baby,” Jaehyun shushes you gently, kissing the crown of your head. “I can get a cab.”

“Are you angry at me?” you ask, pulling away from his chest to look up at his face, worried about what you might find there.

“Of course not,” Jaehyun assures you, immediately stroking a thumb across your cheek to wipe away your tears. “No matter how much I didn’t want to admit it, I knew things had changed when I moved away. I could see that the distance was a problem. You have needs, and I’m proud of you for voicing them, even if it hurts.”

“My heart is breaking,” you whimper.

Jaehyun frowns. “Mine too.”

“You’re really not mad at me?”

“I could never be mad at you,” Jaehyun promises. “I think it will be easier to talk about this with time, if that’s something you’d be interested in. But for now, how do you feel about just laying down, holding each other, and doing our best to enjoy tonight- if it’s going to be our last.”

It might be easier if he was mad at you, if he yelled and swore and tried to make you change your mind- but Jaehyun’s never been an abusive type. Instead, he holds you close, and as you softly cry on his chest, you begin to drift off to sleep.

One

Even in a crowded bar, one distant laugh makes your blood run cold. You grip your drink, heart thundering in your rib cage as you scan your surrounding area.

It’s been two years since you broke up with Jaehyun. Even so, you’d recognize his voice anywhere.

“You good?” your best friend asks, reading your change in expression.

“Yeah, I just thought I heard-” as you’re about to say his name, you spot Jaehyun. He’s leaning against the bar top, chatting with a man whose back is to you.

God, he still looks so good.

Your chest aches, throat going dry. As you watch him, his eyes move to take in the bar. You’re quick to shift your gaze, lifting your drink to your lips to down the rest of it.

“I need to get out of here,” you mutter.

“What? Why?” Your friend reaches for your arm, pulling you closer to check in on you.

“My ex is here.”

“Which one?”

“Which one do you think?” You let out a laugh, but there’s no humor in it.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. Listen, have fun, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” You hand her your empty glass, giving her one last look before you turn to head to the entrance of the bar.

You can feel eyes on you as you push through the crowd, but you chalk it up to being paranoid. You slip through the front doors, intent on hailing a taxi. As you make it to the cement sidewalk, you hear your name behind you, and that familiar voice has your blood running cold for a second time tonight.

“Y/N?”

Your whole body freezes, and for a moment, you truly consider running. But you’ve already run from Jaehyun once before, and you don’t have it in yourself to do it again.

With a deep breath, you turn to face your ex, your first love, the man you’ve never recovered from.

“I thought that was you,” Jaehyun mutters quietly, shoving his hands into his pockets as he stares at you.

You don’t even know what to say, so you keep your mouth shut, taking in his pretty face and the broad set of his shoulders.

“Sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have followed you,” he admits finally. “It doesn’t look like you want to talk.”

Jaehyun turns to head back inside, and your body reacts on its own accord; you grab at his arm, and it makes him stop. He looks down at your hand, wrapped around his forearm, then up at you.

“We…” you swallow thickly, “we can talk. I just… I don’t know what to say.”

“That makes two of us.”

You drop your hand from his arm when you realize he’s not going anywhere.

“I uh…” Jaehyun clears his throat. “I got back to town a month ago. Meant to message you- but I didn’t know what to say then either.”

“You completed your program?”

“Yup. With flying colors.”

“I guess I always expected you to be a big shot and move to some other city- what are you doing back here?”

“Unfinished business… maybe.” Jaehyun dips his head, looking down at the ground. You watch him absentmindedly kick at an old cigarette butt.

He can’t be talking about you… can he?

“Anyways,” Jaehyun meets your eyes again, “how’ve you been?”

“I’ve been…” you search for the right word, “okay.”

“Yeah? Happy?”

“Sort of. You?”

Jaehyun shrugs, offering you a lopsided smile that makes your heart ache. “Sort of. It was two years of studying. Didn’t have much time for extracurriculars, as you know.”

So your breakup is still a sore spot for him, you can sense it in his words. He’s not outwardly saying it, but… it’s there all the same. There’s something of an apology in his statement, because you do know how hard it was for him to find time for things outside of school- it had been the main reason you’d had to call things off with him.

“How about you?” he presses. “Any uh… any protective boyfriend who’s about to show up and beat my ass?”

You can’t believe he’s asking you outright about this, and the question actually makes you let out a small laugh. You shake your head. “No. No boyfriend.”

“Good. I mean… I hoped you were happy, but uh, you know, it’s nice to hear that, well, you know what I mean.” Jaehyun looks down again, and you can see his ears turning red.

It’s as clear as day that Jaehyun still cares about you. The way he’s acting tells you everything you need to know… well, almost everything.

“So…” you wrap your arms around yourself, “are you planning on leaving again? Do you know how long you’ll be in town?”

“Nothing is set in stone,” Jaehyun admits, cocking his head to the side as he looks at you. “Listen, I’m just going to say it.” He takes a deep breath, meanwhile, you can’t even breathe. “I never got over you. I mean, how could I? You’re everything, and- I understand why we broke up, I really do. But my program is over now, and if you give me another chance, I promise not to go anywhere ever again, at least, not without you right there by my side.”

“Jaehyun-”

“If you need some time to think about it, I totally get that-”

Jaehyun goes to take a step back, and you find yourself grabbing at him once more. Your body simply can’t let him go- not now, not ever again.

Your ex looks down at your hand on his forearm, and as you open your mouth to give him your response, no words come to mind. Your gaze dips to his lips, and before you know what you’re even doing, you’re moving in to kiss him.

Jaehyun is frozen in place at the initial meeting of your lips, but after a moment, you feel his body relax. His hands gently slip to your waist, tugging you closer as he slants his mouth against your own. You feel him release a small groan, and a whimper bubbles in your chest.

How many times have you dreamt of this moment? How many times have you thought about kissing Jaehyun?

Your arms wrap around the back of his neck, and you allow yourself to get lost in the feeling of him-

Someone lets out a whistle, and you roughly pull back from Jaehyun, your eyes finding the two bouncers outside the bar, who are staring at you with wolfish grins.

“Is there somewhere we can go to talk?” Jaehyun asks, resting his forehead against your own.

“Come home with me.”

Two

It feels like deja vu to be walking into your apartment with Jaehyun. You’ve had the same unit for years- and you know it must feel even weirder for your ex to be here again after practically living here with you for half of your time in university together.

As you toss your keys onto the entryway table, you hear a familiar meow. Your cat slinks in from the kitchen, but instead of heading to you, she immediately moves toward Jaehyun’s feet, letting out an obnoxiously loud purr as she begins to rub against him.

“Looks like Mittens hasn’t forgotten me either,” Jaehyun smiles, immediately bending down to pick up the fluffy grey and white kitty. She leans into his touch, purring like an engine as he scratches he cheeks. Her paws begin to make softies on his arm, and it makes your heart ache.

You’ve dated a few guys casually in Jaehyun’s absence, and Mittens has never liked any of them. She always was a daddy’s girl- after all, you’d started dating Jaehyun only a few months after you’d picked her up from the shelter.

You still have pictures of the two of them on your phone, hidden in a secret file- you’d never had the heart to delete them, and as you watch their reunion, you’re glad you never did.

“She missed you,” you admit. “We both did.”

You watch Jaehyun’s Adam’s apple bob with effort, your words clearly invoking emotion. You’re quick to look away.

“Can I get you anything?” you ask, kicking off your shoes. “I had a few drinks at the bar, was planning on making a grilled cheese-”

“You still do that?” Jaehyun asks.

“Yeah.” Your throat feels dry admitting another ghost of your past you still haven’t been able to shake. “I still do that.”

Grilled cheese after a night out had always been your thing, and when you’d started dating Jaehyun, it had become his thing too. You can’t even count how many nights the two of you came home from university parties only to make a grilled cheese and collapse on your bed, giggling and kissing like kids in love.

“A grilled cheese sounds perfect,” Jaehyun says. “Thank you.”

He follows you into the kitchen. As you begin to make the late-night snack, you realize Jaehyun has no intention of putting Mittens down. She basks in his attention, letting out upset chirps any time he tries to stop petting her to help you in small ways.

Jaehyun asks you about your job, and from that, the two of you begin to talk about your lives over the past two years. It feels too natural to slip into this type of conversation. His presence is so calming and familiar- by the time you’re done making the grilled cheese for you to share, it’s almost as if the past two years never happened.

It’s almost as if you never left him.

Almost as if he never left you first.

“Do you want to eat in here?” Jaehyun asks, heading to the small kitchen table.

“We can go to my bedroom,” you say softly. “Unless you wanted to be here.”

“Your bedroom is good.”

He follows you through your apartment, but when you get to your room, he stops in the doorway.

“I can’t get over how little this place has changed,” he muses, looking at the layout of the space.

“Yeah,” you sit down on your bed, lifting your legs onto the mattress and setting the plate by your knee. “I guess I’m used to it like this.”

Jaehyun knows all too well how comfortable you get, how hard it is for you to make changes. You think it must be one of the reasons he never fought the breakup. If you’d gotten to the point of needing an emotional separation to deal with the physical distance, pushing you to change your mind would have only made things worse.

“Can we come sit with you?” Jaehyun asks.

“Of course.” You gesture to the mattress. “Make yourself at home, Jae.”

With a small chuckle, he comes to join you. He’s careful when he sets Mittens down, and she immediately stretches, letting out a massive yawn before coming to investigate the grilled cheese.

Jaehyun reaches for his half of the sandwich. “I missed these.”

“It’s just a grilled cheese,” you laugh.

“Yeah, but there’s something special about the way you make it. I can’t explain it.”

You can only offer him a smile as you both lift the gooey, cheesy, greasy, crispy bread to your lips. The crunch is satisfying, and Jaehyun shifts the food to his right hand so he can pet Mittens with his left.

The two of you eat in silence, but there’s nothing uncomfortable about it. As your meal comes to a quick end, your phone begins to ring, and you stand up to answer it. “Give me a sec,” you tell him, exiting the room while Mittens rushes to follow you.

“Hey girl,” your best friend says. “You okay?”

“I’m good.”

“Seeing your ex must have been pretty hard.”

“Actually, uh…” you look toward your open bedroom door, swallowing thickly then lowering your voice, “he’s at my apartment with me.”

“What!?”

“Yeah, we’re talking things out.”

“Just talking?” You can hear the cheeky grin in her voice.

“Don’t be like that,” you laugh.

“Girl, you and that man were a dream couple. He’s the one that got away, and now he’s in your apartment- he’s probably sitting on your bed, eating grilled cheese-”

“God, stop,” you groan. “Am I that predictable?”

“Nah, it was hashtag just couple things. Okay, look, obviously you’re doing good- I was worried you were somewhere crying and drowning yourself in booze. I’ll leave you be. Say hi to him for me.”

“Will do.” You hang up, looking down at Mittens. She’s circling your feet, and with a sigh, you go to refill her food bowl. You’d given her lunch hours ago, and you feel bad that she just watched you down a grilled cheese with nothing for her own little mittens to get a hold of.

Also… your best friend knows you too well.

Your body is reacting to Jaehyun as if there was never a separation- or maybe, your body is reacting because there was a separation. Your pulse is picking up with each step back to your bedroom, and when you close the door behind you, Jaehyun cocks a brow, finishing his grilled cheese with one last large bite.

“You good?” he asks.

“I’m great,” you tell him, approaching the bed.

“Yeah?” Jaehyun’s gaze moves to the closed door, and he offers you a dimpled grin, mischief flaring on the edges of his expression. “You locked out Mittens.”

Nothing gets past this man. You’ve never loved getting intimate while Mittens is trying to hog Jaehyun’s attention, and you shouldn’t be surprised that he got you figured out the moment you closed the door to your bedroom.

“Don’t even with me, Jae.” You sigh, collapsing onto the mattress next to him while he moves the grilled cheese plate to the side table.

“Look, I don’t want you to feel any pressure just cuz I’m here and we’re sitting on your bed-”

“Does it look like I feel pressure?” you ask, hyper-aware of the way your dress is riding up your thighs.

Jaehyun gives you a slow once-over. “I guess not.”

“You really mean what you said about not going away a second time?” You look down. “Because I don’t think I could take it if we gave this another try and three months down the line you moved cities again.”

Your ex nods. “I promise. If you give me one more chance, I won’t let you down.”

You stare at Jaehyun for a moment, studying the sincerity on his face. “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You open your arms, resting back against the pillows and spreading your legs. “Now come here.”

Jaehyun practically leaps on top of you. He slots between your thighs like he was made to be there, his mouth pressing to your own while you wrap him in a tight embrace. He kisses you like he’s been starved of your lips.

He retains some of the gentleness that he’d exhibited outside of the club, but there’s a desperation too, you can almost taste it on him… along with the grilled cheese.

The thought makes you smile, and Jaehyun breaks the kiss to look down at you, also grinning. “What?”

“Nothing, just- I’m happy.”

“Me too,” he admits, looking down at your beaming face before he grabs your jaw between his thumb and forefinger, angling your head to the side so he can access your neck. Your ex finds your sweet spot as easily as ever, as if it hasn’t been two years since his tongue stroked this specific patch of skin and made your whole body tingle with pleasure.

You let out a shaky sigh, threading your fingers through his hair and relaxing against the pillows.

“Don’t leave me again,” you whisper.

“Never again,” he promises, voice husky in your ear.

His hand slides down the curve of your body, grasping at your thighs and slowly pushing your dress up. Your hips move, rutting in an attempt to spur him on. When his fingers finally find your core through your panties, you swear you see stars. He begins to rub your clit, circling it as he applies more and more pressure.

His mouth continues on your neck, and you begin to whimper from the stimulus.

You’d nearly forgotten how good it feels to be touched by someone who knows you inside and out- by someone who cares about your pleasure more than he’s ever cared about his own.

“Jae,” you whimper, breathing heavily as he rubs your core.

“Yes, baby?” His lips are gentle along your throat, and the feather-light touch almost teases you more than a rougher one would.

“Can we skip the foreplay? I need you.”

Jaehyun’s fingers stop on your clit, and he pushes himself up on an elbow, looking down at you with a quizzical set to his brow. “Skip the foreplay?” he repeats, letting out a scoff. “Baby, I’ve been thinking about what I’d do to you if you ever gave me a second chance for over two years. We’re not skipping the foreplay.”

“But-”

“Please don’t argue with me. Just let me have this. Just let me enjoy the body I’ve missed so much. I’ve missed your sounds, the way you react to my touch-” his fingers pick up their pace on your clit again, and you let out a whine, pushing toward him again. “See? You’re perfect. No matter how many memories of this I have, nothing compares to the real thing.”

When you’d been dating Jaehyun initially, he was - for lack of a better word - pretty vanilla. This dirty talk is new, and it makes your stomach erupt into butterflies. Your mind goes practically blank, lulled into a lusty trance by the musings of a man who’s clearly bewitched by you, body and soul.

When your gaze dips down to his hand between your thighs, you notice the way his cock is straining in his pants. “Can I…” you swallow thickly, “Can I touch you too?”

“Yeah.” His mouth returns to your throat, and he pushes your panties to the side, dragging his fingers through your soaked folds. “Fuck, baby, you’re so wet for me.”

You mewl at his words, quickly fumbling with the button of his pants so you can push them down just far enough to take his cock out of his briefs. Jaehyun releases a low groan and it makes your pussy flutter as you begin to stroke him.

Your ex reacts by slipping his fingers into your core, two long digits going knuckle deep. He tests your walls, grazing your g-spot when he begins to lazily pump his hand, his palm firmly pressing to your clit.

A whimper of pleasure escapes you, and you can feel Jaehyun grin against your neck. “The prettiest sounds,” he muses. “How did you ever get this pretty?”

It’s a rhetorical question, and it makes you feel cock drunk and dumb, your chest pushing up against his own, looking for stimulus- your nipples are hard in your bralette, but you wish you were naked already, wish you could feel him better-

“Jae?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Can you take my dress off?”

Jaehyun pulls his hand away from your core, bringing his two wet fingers to your lips. He pushes them into your mouth, propping himself up so he can look down at you while you suck his digits clean. “I thought you’d never ask.”

You groan around his fingers, the act of sucking is turning you on more than you’d care to admit, but it ends too quickly as Jaehyun pulls his hand away.

He sits up, taking off his own shirt first. Then he reaches down to grab at the hem of your dress, slowly dragging it up your form. Jaehyun’s eyes take in each strip of newly exposed skin, and you can see the way his pupils have blown with interest.

You lift your shoulders off the bed, making it easier for him to tear the fabric off of you and toss it to the side. This leaves you in your bralette and panties, both of which you’re eager to have join your dress on the floor.

Jaehyun’s hand reaches out to cup your breast, his thumb smoothing over the pebbled nipple that’s pushing through the silky fabric. He squeezes you gently, forcing you to release a moan of pleasure.

A moment later, he’s removing your panties, then your bra, fingers pinching at your newly exposed nipple.

Your hand, meanwhile, returns to his cock- only for Jaehyun to grab at your wrist, pulling you away.

You’re about to ask what’s wrong, but then Jaehyun turns your hand palm up, and he spits into the center of it, bringing it back to his cock.

There’s no way that action should have been as sexy as it was- your core throbbing as you begin to stroke his rock-hard length.

With one last lustful look at your body, Jaehyun settles over top of you again, his mouth seeking out your breasts while you pump his cock. The feeling of his tongue flicking against you has you crying out, pushing your chest toward his mouth. His teeth graze over your sensitive nipple and you respond by applying more pressure to his cock.

Jaehyun groans loudly, rutting his hips into your hand, which stills so you can allow him to fuck your palm. He continues to worship your breasts while his hips do most of the work, and you surrender yourself to the pleasurable scenario you’ve found yourself in.

“You know…” Jaehyun presses another kiss to your nipple, “I was going to ask you to sit on my face, but… it’s hard being this close to your pretty pussy and not just… slipping it in.”

“Yeah?” You guide his cock closer to your core, so that when he ruts his hips, the tip of his cock glides through your soaked folds. “Then just do it.”

“Here I was, saying not to skip the foreplay- but here I am, giving in to you like always.”

Jaehyun releases a laugh, and it makes you giggle along with him, because it’s true. Jaehyun may have this sexy, devil-may-care attitude, but he’s always been a total simp for you.

He was completely wrapped around your finger when you first met, and he’s completely wrapped around your finger now. It’s interesting how so much can change, and so little can change at the same time.

“You just feel so good,” Jaehyun groans, thrusting again, the tip of his pretty pink flushed cock just slipping inside of you-

“Fuck, Jae, please-” you push your chest up toward his face again, pumping his length, trying to guide him deeper-

He brings his mouth to your own, capturing you in a breathtaking kiss as he sheaths himself into your wet core.

You let out a low whine, wrapping your legs around his hips and releasing his cock in favor of grabbing his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin.

“Fuck-” Jaehyun moans, staying still inside of you while your walls pulse around his shaft. “Missed this perfect pussy, baby.”

“Missed your perfect cock,” you retort, tangling your fingers in his soft hair and drawing him in for another kiss.

His tongue clashes against your own, his hands finding your hips so he can steady himself as he begins to rut into you.

You love getting lost in him. You can feel your mind slipping away, your body giving into its primal instincts as Jaehyun makes love to you the way he has so many times before.

One of his hands finds your own, taking it from his shoulder and lacing your fingers above you, pressing you into the pillow. He breaks the kiss to look down at you, breathing heavily.

“There’s so much I’ve wanted to say,” Jaehyun admits.

“Then say it,” you urge him, cupping his cheek with your free hand.

He nuzzles against your palm, closing his eyes for a moment while he enjoys your touch. “I’ve missed everything about you. You’ve been on my mind every day for two years.”

Your heart aches.

“It’s more than just the sex, and you know it. I’ve missed holding you,” he squeezes your hand, “missed sleeping next to you. Missed late-night talks and grilled cheese. Missed your laugh and the way your eyes light up when you’re happy. Missed the way you cry at sad parts in movies-”

As he talks, the pace of his thrusts gets faster, and you find it harder and harder not to moan like a whore and interrupt his cute little speech about missing you.

In fact, it’s hard to even keep your eyes open, but your gaze is caught in his own. Jaehyun’s staring into your soul, baring himself to you like a man who’s brought all his walls down.

“I love you,” Jaehyun says gruffly, “I’ve never stopped loving you. Not for one single day. It’s you, and it’s always been you.”

Your stomach muscles clench at his admission, orgasm bubbling to the surface fast from the combination of his movements and his words.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he assures you, licking his lips. “Just rub your clit and let me feel your perfect pussy clench around me as you cum, that will be answer enough.”

With a loud whine, you throw your head back against the pillow, threading your free hand between your bodies. The first touch of your fingers on your clit has you throbbing already, and you release a gasp.

“That’s it, baby,” Jaehyun coos, lips finding your throat. “Just like that.”

“Jae-”

“I know, I know you’re close- must be pent up like me, right? We’re both going to cum way too fast, but that’s okay, we have all the time in the world to enjoy each other- the way I’m going to eat your perfect pussy for breakfast tomorrow morning-”

Your core pulses at the thought, and you rub your clit harder.

“Gonna let go for me, right, baby? I’m so close, want you to cum with me.”

“I’m there-” you tell him, shivering as he licks the sweet spot on your throat. ‘Fuck, Jae-”

“You want me to cum inside right? You’re still on the-”

“Cum inside,” you interrupt him. “God, fuck, please- need you to fill me up-”

Jaehyun groans, squeezing your hand again. His lips move from your neck to your mouth, and your tongues clash in a breathless, moan-filled frenzy, your orgasms just out of reach-

One more whimpered “please” out of you has Jaehyun moaning, his high crashing into him. You can feel him filling you up with his cum, and it triggers your own orgasm. A gasp escapes you, your sensitive nipples pressing against his chiseled chest-

You can feel him everywhere. He’s all-consuming. You completely let go, sounds uninhibited, pussy throbbing harder than it has in the past two years.

Jaehyun fucks you through it, until you’re both sweaty, gasping messes. Then he collapses on top of you, giving your captured hand one last squeeze before adjusting. He rolls off of you just enough to tuck you close to his chest, hand finding your hair and beginning to pet you.

You can hear the racing of his heart as he catches his breath.

As you come down from your high, you feel a welling of emotion bubbling inside of you. You’re shocked when a tear rolls down your cheek, and you’re quick to brush it away. Jaehyun notices the movement and tilts his head to assess you.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you sniffle. “I’m just…. I’m happy, and I missed you a lot.”

“Baby,” Jaehyun’s fingers draw pretty nothings on your back, “I promise I’m not going anywhere ever again.”

☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! I've been reading a lot of shorter smut fics recently, and after doing such a big kick-off in January, I wanted to try a shorter piece again, and challenge myself with a little angst :)

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🔮 preview. “Listen, I promised myself I wasn't going to cum in or on you tonight - you know, seeing as you’re my wife tomorrow and I don’t want to disrespect you - but since you’re begging for it,” Jaehyun slips the tip of his cock inside of you, only to pull away, “I guess I can settle for cumming on your ass, but only if we shower together after.”

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, creampie, pussy eating champ Jae, pussy worship, fingering, 69, blow job, hand job, deep throating, gentle choking, begging, dirty talk, slight cum kink/mentions of exhibitionism, finger sucking, multiple reader orgasms, etc… I petnames. (hers) baby.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.1k I teaser wc. 200

🌙 starring. Jaehyun x afab!Reader

bonus

Since you got back with Jaehyun over a year ago, the two of you haven’t been separated for longer than twelve hours, but tomorrow is the day of your wedding, and there are certain traditions about the bride and groom staying apart- so here you are, cuddled on a couch in your hotel room, missing your fiance.

When your phone rings and Jaehyun’s pretty face shows up as the contact on your screen, you fumble over yourself to pause your movie and answer it. “Jae?”

“Hey, baby. What room are you in again?”

You think about it for a moment. You’d never actually told him where you’re staying in the hotel… “Why do you want to know?”

“Maybe I wanna send my fiance flowers before our wedding tomorrow.”

God, why’s he so charming?

You give him your room number without a second thought, hanging up with an ‘I love you.’

Five minutes later, there’s a knock at the door, and you open it to find Jaehyun standing there with a massive dimpled grin on his face, and a vase of flowers in his hands. “Hi, baby.”

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colormepurplex2 · 18 days ago

Text

Golden Cufflinks | JJK

▻ Golden Cufflinks ↳ Alpha!Jungkook x Omega!f.Reader ⤜ Best Friend's Fiance, Strangers to True Mates ⤜ A/B/O AU | angst, smut, fluff ⤜ Rating: MA ⤜ WC: 11,742 ⤜ Summary: You’ve never given much thought to finding your true mate, firmly believing it’s something that will happen when it happens. But, when you do find him—thanks to a pair of golden cufflinks—it very well could ruin everything. They say not all’s fair in love and war; you just hadn’t expected your best friend’s wedding to be the battleground. ⚠️ Crass language, talk of designation hierarchy, mild talk of misogynistic practices of the past, confessions of cheating(not by main pairing), anger/arguments, kissing, dick sucking, mild cum intrigue, maybe mild breeding kink if you squint, unprotected v. sex, knotting, lots of slick and cum

Written for @hisunshiine as part of the 2nd Quarter 2023 @bangtanwritershq Awards Season! A/N: Congratualtions, Vanessa. You deserve all the kudos for a job well done during the 2nd Quarter 2023, I hope you enjoy the story!

A special thank you to @downbad4yoongi, @lo1k-diamonds, @moonleeai for the amazing beta services!

Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad

Nerves flutter in your belly as you gather your belongings from the plastic bin at the end of the rolling conveyor belt on the other side of security. As you walk away, your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you have to juggle your purse and jacket to retrieve it.

You feel bad for making Hayun, your best friend for as long as you can remember, wait for a response, but you desperately just want to find your gate and have a seat first. Once you find it and settle in at a chair by the big windows looking out on the tarmac, you thumb to her contact.

“If I didn’t love you so much, I’d probably hate you right now for making me wait so long for a response,” Hayun sasses before her voice softens, “Hello, I love you.”

“Love you, too, girl,” you say, unable to help the smile that tilts your lips up. “Sorry, I’ve been MIA for the last few hours. Things have been hectic. I misplaced my passport this morning, but I finally found it under the bed and then missed the hotel shuttle. I had to call a rideshare, but of course, it took them forever to get through airport traffic, and ugh…” you trail off with a sigh. “I’m sitting down for the first time since I woke up this morning.”

Which was approximately four hours ago at this point. Your flight is set to take off less than an hour from now, so you imagine boarding might start soon. You’re not exaggerating when you say it’s been hectic. It was bad enough waking up at 3 AM, but you’re a chronic planner and stickler for time, so missing your flight was the absolute last thing you wanted to happen.

“Oh, babe, that sucks. I’m glad it’s all worked out, though. I really can’t wait to see you!”

The conversation passes quickly, easing your heart and mind as you catch up on the last twenty-four hours. You haven’t seen Hayun in a handful of years. Her career took her to the other side of the world, and yours kept you where you both grew up. The last time you saw her was through a haze of tears at this very airport when she boarded a plane destined for Seoul, South Korea, where she was adopted from at just two years old.

Visiting each other was always something you both talked about. But, as with most things, life just happens, and eventually, you find yourself making that visit you always talked about for reasons you never considered before—like your best friend tying the knot with a guy you’ve never met.

Sure, you’ve seen pictures of him and have heard him talk in the background of most of the phone calls you’ve exchanged with Hayun over the last few years. But, it was never on your friendship bingo card that the next time you’d find yourself seeing your best friend, it would be her at her wedding.

“I gotta go. They’re about to start boarding.”

“I’ll see you when you land. Can’t wait!”

Hayun disconnects the call, and you gather your belongings to prepare to line up in the boarding queue. It will be a long flight, but seeing Hayun again after so long apart will be worth it.

You fiddle with the bracelet on your left wrist, twisting and pinching at the silver moon charm dangling from the thin chain. Hayun has a matching one. They were presents from your parents on the day you were both recognized with your designations; she was thirteen, and you were fifteen.

The dynamics of Alphas and Omegas have long since changed from what it once was. Legend has it that once upon a time, an Alpha and an Omega were closer to their wolf-kin than how the world is now. Thanks to evolution and science, the only things remaining from that time are the more basic bodily functions—scents, knots, and slick, to sum it up.

The crescent charm on your wrist symbolizes your designation—Omega. But being an Omega doesn’t hold much meaning for you. You don’t feel all that special, and it’s not like you’re rare or any more or less capable than the next person. As it stands, you can see at least a dozen other moons jangling from bracelets, waiting to board the same plane you are.

There are also necklaces, tattoos, and other ways to display a designation scattered around the waiting area. The how of it is mostly regional, sometimes generational. The Beta standing behind you in the queue has a teardrop earring dangling from their left ear, and if it weren’t for the pheromone blockers you took this morning, you might be able to smell their unique scent.

You also have your own smell, a scent that is just you. You’ve been told it’s a sweet, citrusy bouquet like lemonade on a hot summer afternoon. However, also thanks to the blockers, it remains suppressed to the point someone would have to make you bleed or press their nose so firmly against your throat it hurts to smell it.

There really is only one thing that a lot of people are envious of when it comes to an Omega’s designation, and that is that they supposedly have an Alpha true mate out there somewhere that will call to their baser nature. It’s such a rare phenomenon these days that it might as well be part of the legends of old, too.

The bottom line is that no one cares about subgenders anymore; it doesn't matter whether your charm is the Omega crescent, the teardrop of a Beta, or the triskelion denoting an Alpha. In fact, you’re pretty sure you could ask the Beta for their earring and offer them your charm bracelet and no one would bat an eye over it.

Though you’d never do that, considering the chain around your wrist isn’t technically yours. The night after you presented as Omega, when you snuck away with Hayun to lay on a blanket under the stars and moon that was so like the charm hanging from your twin bracelets, you giggled as you exchanged them. Her tiny fingers trembled against your wrist as she secured her silver chain around it. You did the same with your own around hers a second later.

It was that night that you both swore always to be friends. No matter what happened in life or where either of you ended up, you would always remain true to one another. So far, your friendship has been unfailing, a constant thread of comfort and light for you both. No matter how long it’s been, the charm still smells faintly of your best friend—a perk of the charms themselves, holding a token essence of their owners. Hers holds a soft lilac and jasmine scent that you’ve always thought complimented your own citrus notes.

The flight attendant scanning boarding passes beckoning you forward breaks you out of your internal reflections. With a full heart and giddy anticipation curling in your belly, you find your seat and settle in.

It’s a long flight, longer than most flights you’ve taken. But when you finally walk off the plane, make it through customs and immigration, and finally empty into the arrivals terminal of the Incheon Airport, you feel immediate relief, and the hours spent in the air don’t seem so bad.

“Hey, over here!” a familiar voice calls out, catching your attention.

You spin on your heel, confusion setting in for just a moment before it’s replaced by another wave of relief and a little of something warmer. Taehyung, Hayun’s adopted brother, swamps you in a giant bear hug that quite literally sweeps you off of your feet.

“Wow, hey. This is a surprise. What are you doing here? Where’s Hayun?”

Taehyung scrunches up his face, letting out a small scoff. “It’s a good surprise, I hope. Something came up, and she had to meet with the wedding planner and caterer at the last minute. She called me and asked if I could pick you up.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah,” you confirm with a smile. “Good surprise.”

It’s no secret that you’ve always been fond of Taehyung. As a baby, you were toddling around with him long before his family adopted Hayun. She ended up being the sister you never knew you needed, even if you were a few years older.

When she moved to Seoul for work, Taehyung ended up being the physical representation that took her place. He flew out a week before you to help her with planning and will stay for a few weeks after you’ve already headed back home. They may have had their differences over the years, but their sibling bond is stronger than petty arguments and rivalries.

“Ready to get on the road? It’s a long drive.”

Hours later, with the rolling countryside and farms dotting the horizon, you discover the fiasco inside your backpack. The bottle of pheromone blockers you packed this morning somehow got shuffled to the bottom of your bag and popped open. The once-powder-filled capsules litter the bottom of your bag, broken open. Pale blue powder coats your things, the mild flower smell of the medicine lingering in the air.

“Fucking hell,” you groan. “Any chance there’s a clinic somewhere between here and where we’re going?”

“Unfortunately, no.” He frowns, drumming his fingers lightly on the steering wheel, making the triskelion signet ring on his index finger glitter in the mid-day sun. “We’d probably have to turn around and head nearly three hours back to get anywhere near a clinic with blockers. I'm told most people don’t use them anymore these days here. Maybe another one of the wedding party might have some you could borrow if you really need them. But, honestly, I don’t see anyone minding if you don’t use them.”

“Most people here don’t use them anymore?”

“Well, yeah, with the progression of equality and things like that. They’re so great here, way more progressive than back home. It’s very common for Omegas to go off of blockers or never even begin them. Laws have been implemented to punish Alphas who can’t control themselves. The responsibility of remaining safe shouldn’t be solely set on the shoulders of the Omega population.”

Talk like that has only recently become popular back home. You’ve heard the speeches and followed the media and the sources, but you suppose after nearly half of your life taking blockers, it just comes naturally to continue to do so.

“Hm, yeah, okay. I guess it’s no big deal, really. As long as you’re sure people won’t mind?”

Taehyung sniffs the air, his nose twitching. “I think you smell great, but just in case not everyone does, if someone says something, then I’ll personally drive all the way back to the city and pick you up some,” Taehyung promises, giving you one of his swoon-worthy smiles.

The crush you once upon a time had on Taehyung threatens to spark anew at the sight of his charming, boxy grin—a grin you would have once done anything to pull from him. But now, it just fills you with warmth and a homey comfort.

You give him a smile of your own. “Deal.”

“Hayun!”

Her squeal of delight when she turns around and catches sight of you echoes through the open space of the dimly lit bar of the bed and breakfast where the wedding is taking place.

It’s a cozy space with rich dark wood accents and royal blue velvet upholstery. Brass gas lamps and light fixtures give the entire lounge an upscale and chic atmosphere that you know is right up Hayun’s alley.

The few hours you had between checking in at the bed and breakfast and meeting Hayun for her very small—just you and one other person—bachelorette party were spent familiarizing yourself with the grounds.

The ceremony will take place in one of the lavish gardens, and the reception will follow in one of the grand dining halls. For a bed and breakfast, it’s far fancier than any you’ve ever been to. It definitely does not have the mom-and-pop feel that you typically associate with the term ‘B&B’.

“You’re here!” she shrills, throwing her arms around your neck.

Her petite form fits just like it always has against yours. Thick black hair, shorter than the last time you saw it, curls around the rounded lines of her cheeks, and her brown eyes are bright and glisten with happy tears. With her bubbly personality and small, wispy frame, she's always reminded you of a fairy.

You sigh, taking a deep breath and savoring your best friend's soft, floral scent. Thanks to the bracelet tinkling around her wrist, it holds the smallest undercurrent of your sweet citrus. Clearly, she’s not taking blockers; the scents are heavy and delightful. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Hayun sucks in a deep breath that mirrors yours. “Wow, babe, you smell good! Finally gone off the blockers, huh?”

“Uh, kind of,” you chuckle, untangling yourself from her arms. “I brought some, but they broke open in my bag at some point.” You shrug. “Tae said it shouldn’t be that big of a deal.”

“Oh, it’s not. Absolutely not,” Hayun agrees, grinning broadly. “I’ve been off them for years and haven’t had a single issue. Come on, let’s have a drink and catch up!”

You settle in at a table, and it’s not long before Eunseo, Hayun’s other guest, joins you. You’ve heard a lot about Eunseo. Much the same way Taehyung took the place of Hayun for you, Eunseo took your place for Hayun. You half expect to feel some sort of friendship jealousy upon meeting Eunseo for the first time, but it doesn’t come. If anything, you’re immediately fond of the young woman.

The evening carries on, Hayun and Eunseo regaling you with tales from working together and their various adventures around Seoul. Eunseo shows genuine interest in your life back home, seeming eager to hear stories of Hayun’s childhood. She shows a particular interest in Taehyung, asking you in no certain terms more than you think is appropriate to share.

“But you’ve seen it, right?” Eunseo asks. Her elbows rest on the table, and her chin is nestled on her clasped hands, her eyes wide and glassy from the countless glasses of wine she’s had. “I bet it’s huge. Am I right?”

“Ugh,” Hayun groans. “Can we not talk about my brother’s dick. Please.” She makes a gagging sound before slurping down the rest of her cocktail and flagging down a passing waiter for another.

You try to wave off the waiter, but he’s turned toward the bar before you can get his attention. If Hayun has much more to drink, you’re not sure she’ll be able to walk down the aisle tomorrow unassisted.

“I’m just curious. It’s a harmless question,” Eunseo pouts. “Ignore her. Tell me. I just have to know.”

You swirl the straw around in your glass of water before giving Eunseo what you hope is a conspiratorial look. “Well—”

“What?! Ew. Are you really about to answer her? Please, dear god, do not tell me you have seen my brother’s penis. If you’ve seen it—fuck, I might actually puke.”

As much as you probably shouldn’t, you laugh, which earns further protests and obscene noises from Hayun.

“Before you interrupted me, I was going to say that maybe Eunseo should ask him herself.”

Hayun howls a protest, sloshing her new cocktail onto the table as she gesticulates a crude hand gesture in your direction. “Do not. I repeat, do not do that, Eunseo!”

The conversation peters off, Hayun losing herself in another cocktail while Eunseo stares dreamily up at the ceiling.

“I think—hiccup—it's bedtime,” Eunseo slurs.

As if right on cue, a familiar face peeks through the entrance to the lounge. You wave Taehyung down, and he comes jogging across the space to your table. His shirt is rumpled with the top few buttons undone, but his eyes are clear, and you know he’ll be a perfect gentleman.

“Are you sure?” you ask him, pitching your voice low.

“I got this, don’t worry. We finished up a few hours ago anyway.”

Taehyung gives you a warm, private smile before turning to Eunseo. “Hey there, beautiful. Let’s get you on to bed, okay?”

“Where’s my savior?” Hayun asks, frowning after her brother escorting Eunseo from the lounge and back through the front lobby.

“Right here,” you tell her, sliding out of your chair and coming around to her side of the table. “Come on, let’s go.”

It takes you more than twice as long as it usually would to get to Hayun’s room. She leans against the wall in the hall as you dig through her pockets in search of her room key. Once you find it tucked between a few stray bills and her ID, you usher her into the room and deposit her onto the bed.

Her fiance has a room on the other side of the grounds, but after the ceremony, they will both be moving into one of the couple’s suites for the night before jet-setting off to Jeju Island for their week-long honeymoon.

“Am I doing the right thing?”

Hayun’s question catches you off guard. You throw a confused look at her over your shoulder as you rummage through her suitcase in search of something for her to sleep in.

“What?”

She sighs as she rolls over, letting her head hang off the edge of the bed so she can look at you upside down. “Marrying Jungkook. It’s a mistake…so why am I doing it?”

“Hayun…what are you talking about? Jungkook is perfect for you. You guys have been dating for five years, and you told me you’ve never been happier. Where’s the mistake in that?”

The sound Hayun makes is akin to something a wounded animal might make. She flops, flailing her arms and legs like a child throwing a fit.

“That’s the thing, though! I’m happy, but I don’t love him. Oh god,” she cries. “I don’t love him.”

“Hey, hey now.” You abandon the search for sleeping clothes and crawl across the floor until you’re kneeling beside the bed. Smoothing your hand across her forehead, you ask, “Where is all this coming from?”

“He thinks I’m his true mate,” she whispers. The tears leaking from her eyes slide up her face, wetting the edges of her eyebrows before sliding over her forehead and disappearing into her hair. “But I know he’s not mine.”

“Wh—wait, what?” You push up from the floor and move onto the bed, gathering your best friend’s head into your lap so she’s no longer hanging upside down off the side of the bed.

She hiccups a sob, lips trembling as she explains, “He says I’m his true mate, that he knows because of my scent. But he doesn’t smell special to me…how is that possible?”

“Hayun, I don’t—”

“I cheated on him,” she whimpers in confession, cutting off what were going to be your soothing words of affirmation. They sour on your tongue, refusing to be released now.

Your stomach churns at her admittance. “You what?”

“You have every right to judge me. I’m a terrible person. But, when he told me I was his true mate…I panicked. I had to be sure I wasn’t broken, that me not finding his scent special wasn’t just something wrong with me.” Hayun blinks rapidly, trying to clear the tears as they begin to come in earnest. She clutches at the front of her shirt, hand fisting over her heart. “So, I slept with two Alphas that I work with to see if it was any different. I had to be sure. I had to know.”

“Hayun, I-I-I don’t…I’m not—”

“I’m such a fucking mess,” she sobs, curling in on you and pressing her face against your stomach. “I don’t deserve him. I only said yes to marrying him because I don’t want to be alone forever. I can’t be like you. I need someone.”

Her words sting, causing you to flinch involuntarily. You watch as she falls apart in your lap, ultimately giving in to her grief. It’s on the tip of your tongue to call her out on her childish behavior, to set the record straight about your own love life, and to leave her to her wallowing. But…the shaking of her shoulders and soft whines from her remind you so much of a younger and more fragile Hayun—the Hayun of your shared childhoods.

“Shh, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” No matter how you might feel about her actions and the hurtful words she’s spilled, you hate to see your best friend so distraught and broken. “Hey, look at me.”

You wait until her watery eyes peel away from your shirt and meet yours. “Tell me you hate me; it’s okay.”

“Hayun, I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. You made…a mistake, that’s all. You were trying to figure things out. But…Hayun, you…you have to tell him.”

She frowns up at you, her expression sobering. “Tell him?”

“He’s about to marry you, Hayun. That’s a big freaking deal…you have to tell him tomorrow morning before anything else happens.”

The laugh that bubbles from her lips is anything but humorous. “I-I can’t do that! He’ll hate me. He’ll call the wedding off!” She shoves out of your lap and stares at you like you’ve lost your mind.

“If Jungkook truly loves you and says you’re his true mate, I don’t see that happening. But, he deserves to know. You have to know that. Either you tell him now, or he finds out years from now, and then it’ll be so much worse,” you try to reason with her.

“He doesn’t have to know!” she whisper-yells, her tears turning from sad to angry in an instant.

You shake your head, unable to believe what you’re hearing from her. “This isn’t right, Hayun. You can’t go into a marriage with someone with secrets like that!”

“It’s not like it’ll happen again. I’m not going to cheat on him while we’re married. Please,” she begs, her face once more softening into saddened anguish. “I don’t want to lose him.”

“He deserves to know, Hayun,” you whisper, remembering your own keen sting of betrayal from many years ago. There is a reason you don’t date much. “You say it won’t happen again?” you ask, trying to buy yourself some time to process everything Hayun just told you.

Her silence is deafening, and you think she’s about to not answer you the way you hope, but, finally, she murmurs, “No. Never. I swear it.”

“Okay. Okay, good. But, he still needs to know.”

Just because you’ve never actually met Jungkook, it doesn’t mean you don’t care for him. He’s the one who puts a smile on Hayun’s face when you can’t. He’s the reason she’s as happy as she is…or has been? Now, you’re not so sure. But, what you are certain about is that Hayun is far too drunk right now to know up from down and is just having a moment of raw vulnerability.

“Are you going to tell him?” she asks, voice a hoarse whisper.

You chew your bottom lip for a moment before slowly shaking your head. Thinking about it, even if you didn’t care for Jungkook, he still deserves to know on pure principle. “No. I won’t tell him.” She lets out a soft sigh of relief, which has you tacking on, “Because it’s not my place to tell him, it’s yours.”

“Yeah,” she mumbles. “Okay.” She doesn’t say anything more beyond that, falling into a listless stupor, all of her energy sapped from the quick argument and endless cocktails from the bar.

After you wrestle her out of her clothes and put on a long nightgown, she tucks easily into bed. You leave a glass of water on the bedside table for her, then exit the room and head to your own.

A pang of uncertainty refuses to quell in the pit of your stomach. You toss and turn most of the night, falling into a fitful sleep just before the sun begins to kiss the horizon. It’s going to be a long day…a battle of wills you never saw coming.

🥀🥀🥀

Jungkook

Today is the big day, and Jungkook couldn’t be happier. Nothing could possibly bring him down from the high he’s feeling. Not even the fact that he is unable to find the cufflinks that were passed down to him by his father.

“Did you check the pockets of all your pants?” Jimin, Jungkook’s best friend, asks from where he’s lounging in one of the chairs on the other side of Jungkook’s hotel room.

“Yes,” he mutters, dumping his entire suitcase onto the bed to rifle through it once again. “I remember putting them with the pile of Hayun’s—oh fuck.”

“That’s great,” Taehyung sighs. “So my sister probably has them.” He checks his watch. “We don’t really have time to go on a scavenger hunt through her room. Jimin and I are supposed to meet the photographer to get started on some of the bride and groomsmen shots.”

Jungkook purses his lips and rakes his hands through his hair as he thinks of a solution. “I’d go look myself, but what if I run into Hayun between here and there? She specifically requested that we not see each other until the ceremony.”

Taehyung hums lightly. “I think I have an idea. The other girls don’t meet for pictures until after we’re done. So…yeah…okay…done,” he murmurs, tapping away at his phone screen. “If they’re in Hayun’s things, they’ll be delivered to you soon.”

“Thanks, Taehyung, you’re a lifesaver.”

Minutes later, Jungkook finds himself alone, Taehyung and Jimin having gone to meet with the photographer. Somewhere out there, beyond the confines of his room, his fiancee is probably smiling and laughing as she poses in front of the camera. If only Jungkook could see through walls. He’d give anything for even just a little glimpse of his bride-to-be.

When Jungkook first met Hayun almost six years ago, he nearly tripped over his own feet trying to track her scent. The meeting he was heading for was instantly forgotten, replaced by a visceral need to discover the source of that titillating aroma that had his hindbrain firing on all cylinders.

Never before had Jungkook experienced something so…primal. It was both alarming and utterly fascinating. Amongst the harsh scents of car exhaust and the warm notes of roasted coffee, Jungkook wove his way through the crowd on the sidewalk to the doors of a little cafe; Hayun was inside, ordering a matcha tea to-go, and the rest was history.

Jungkook sighs, forcing himself to stop daydreaming and fiddling with his shirt's empty cuffs and focus on putting together the rest of his suit.

The scent hits Jungkook a moment before the sound of a soft knock reaches his ears. He’s standing in the ensuite bathroom, mid-skin care routine. Wiping his wet fingers off onto a towel, he draws in a deep breath to confirm the aroma wafting to him from beyond the door of his room.

A roguish smirk quirks up one side of his mouth as he exits the bathroom and moves across the room. Unable to help himself, he opens the door. “Hayun,” he chuckles, fingers wrapping around the doorknob, “I thought we agreed that you…you are not Hayun.” The words tumble from his suddenly numb lips, rasping past his too-dry tongue.

“Umm, no. Not Hayun, sorry. You’re Jungkook?”

The woman standing before him is clearly not his fiancee. The woman’s purple gown is familiar, Jungkook knowing it’s what Hayun chose for her attending party. You’re a friend of Hayun, clearly, yet you smell exactly like Hayun…if Hayun smelled like Hayun times a thousand. The fragrance slams into his olfactory system, and the edges of his vision grow blurry a moment before he shakes his head and steadies himself with a hand on the doorjamb.

“Yeah,” he whispers, voice raspy with his suddenly dry throat. Revelations pounding him right between the eyes, washing through his body and keying right into his most basic of instincts.

Jungkook watches as your nostrils flare, and he knows it’s in that moment that you register his cedar and lavadin scent; the scent that marks him for what—who—he is.

“Jungkook,” you repeat his name, and he wants to howl with delight at how it sounds coming from your lips. “No. You can’t…it’s not—” your voice cuts off a second before you drop the small, black leather box you were holding and turn, disappearing in a flash of violet tulle and silk.

🥀🥀🥀

“Stop! Wait, please!” The shout of your name follows you down the hall, but you’re too focused on getting as far away from him and the feelings threatening to overwhelm you as you can.

“No, no, no,” you chant under your breath as you move as swiftly as the slippered feet will allow you to go without tripping yourself up.

It’s clearly not fast enough. It only takes a few frantic beats of your heart before a firm grip on your elbow draws you to a stumbling halt. The touch is electric, and your skin flushes with goosebumps at the heated contact.

“Don’t run,” Jungkook pants. “Please.”

You wretch your arm from his grip and whirl on him, a sharp remark ready on the tip of your tongue. Only, it dies there, never to be uttered, as your heart thumps violently in response to the look on his face—pure anguish.

Your voice is thread-thin as you finally manage to get words out, “This can’t be happening.”

Jungkook’s brow twitches, his lips tucked between his teeth. His emotions are stark on his face, and the conflict is raw and bare to you. Clearly, he’s warring the same as you, maybe even more so.

“Why do you smell like Hayun?” he asks, his voice soft in contrast to the raging storm you see in his eyes. “Why do you smell more like my true mate than she even does? Is this some wicked, cruel prank?”

You shake your head, intentionally drawing a breath through your mouth in hopes of saving your nose from another assault of his perfect scent. But, instead, his flavor laces over your tongue and slides down your throat to sit like a knot in your belly. You might as well have licked a stripe up his neck for all the good that did.

“I-I don’t know,” you choke out, trying to keep the pool of saliva under your tongue from dripping down your chin.

Jungkook steps closer to you, leading with his nose. He sniffs the air around you and something must not sit well with what he discovers because he rears back and bares his teeth. “Of course,” he mutters as his eyes drop to your left wrist.

Your eyes track his movement as he scoops up your wrist in a loose grip, and you realize it’s the bracelet there that has his attention. Everything clicks into place, and you feel like the faintest breeze could sweep you away with how lightheaded you’re feeling at this moment.

“We traded,” you whisper as if speaking low enough means the admission won’t utterly destroy the world as you know it.

“She’s not my true mate,” he states, voice as low as yours, fevered and quiet. “You are.”

Those words punch you in the chest, nearly taking you to your knees. If it weren’t for the hold Jungkook has on your wrist, you’re sure you’d be in a heap on the floor. As it is, he catches his other arm around your waist as you sway on the spot.

“Y-you shouldn’t.” Your protest is stilted, the words feeling robotic and unnatural as you gingerly press a hand against the arm that’s angled around your ribs. It was your intention to push his touch away, but the most you accomplish is flexing your fingers against the smooth cotton covering his thick bicep.

Somehow, you find yourself back in the room you had fled from just a few minutes ago. Jungkook settled you on the bed and is now pressing a chilled water bottle into your hands.

He kneels before you, headless of putting wrinkles in his black dress slacks. He’s wearing a thin white undershirt, his starched white button-up undone over it. The cuffs of the sleeves flop as he brings his hands into his lap and picks at the edges of his thumbnails.

Your eyes rove the room, catching on the black leather box still sitting on the floor by the door where you dropped it. Inside the box is nestled a pair of golden cufflinks—a pair you now understand have been passed down through the generations of Jeon men.

Absently, you press your thumb to your phone, unlocking it to reveal the text message that has irrevocably changed your life forever.

If you had known Taehyung’s text message requesting help would have led you to where you are right now, you’d probably have ignored it.

Yet, at the same time, if you had, you’d probably have had this revelation with Jungkook in the middle of the ceremony, and it would have caused all sorts of untoward chaos. No, it’s far better that it’s happening now instead of later. Maybe you can get ahead of this and fix it somehow. Though…

“Hey? You okay?” Jungkook interrupts your thoughts. “Fuck, that’s a stupid question. Sorry.”

“Huh? Oh. Umm…yeah. I don’t—what do we do now?” You turn your phone over, finger ghosting over the power button to lock the screen once more.

Jungkook sighs, and you can’t help watching the rise and fall of his shoulders, framing the swell of his defined chest with the action. He’s an exquisite specimen of masculinity, and even if it weren’t for the musky notes of his scent that mark him as your true mate, you’d find him devastatingly attractive.

“We need to tell Hayun. I c-can’t…I can’t marry her. Not when I’ve found—” he cuts off, wincing as his voice breaks. “I should go and find her. Now, before this can go any further. I’m sorry. I’ll, uh, I’ll find you later, okay?”

“Wait,” you call after him. He stops halfway to the door and glances back at you over his shoulder. “Shouldn’t we tell her together?”

Jungkook chews the inside of his cheek a moment, his eyes flicking over your face as he thinks through your suggestion. Slowly, he nods. “Yeah, maybe that’s for the best.”

There is palpable tension between you and Jungkook as you follow behind him out of the main building. He texted Jimin, knowing he’d be the most reliable with his phone on him, asking where the photos were currently taking place.

It only took a few minutes for Jimin to respond that they were almost finished but were currently capturing some group shots on the walking path by the lake on the backside of the property.

You’re vaguely aware of where the lake is located, having given the map of the grounds that was posted on the backside of your room’s door a cursory look the day you arrived. It’s a relatively short distance, yet it feels like miles with the weight of pure dread sitting firmly on your shoulders.

At least it’s not a feeling you’re experiencing alone. Jungkook is right there with you, and you can clearly see the unease in the stiff way his body moves. The tips of his fingers twitch back in your direction every few steps like he’s fighting off the urge to slip them between your own.

The first person you catch sight of is Yoona, the photographer. She’s squatting in the grass, her large DSLR camera held up to her face, as she captures candid moments of Hayun, Taehyung, and Jimin repositioning themselves along the lake's edge.

Your heart squeezes hard at how beautiful Hayun is in her form-fitting silk ivory, off-the-shoulder wedding gown, the lacy bell sleeves fluttering around her hands. Her head is thrown back, the peel of her carefree laughter carrying to you and further crumbling your soul into a million pieces. You ache, not just for the desire to draw closer to your true mate, but for the inevitable aftermath of what is about to happen.

Taehyung is the first to notice you and Jungkook. The smile on his face slowly disappears, replaced by a concerned frown. Hayun catches his expression and follows his line of sight. Her gaze sears into you, and you feel like you might combust into a cloud of ash at any second with the irritation contained in her pretty brown eyes.

“What’s going on?” Hayun exclaims, throwing her hands up in a frustrated manner as she stalks towards you and Jungkook. “It’s not time for your photos yet,” she tells you before her eyes swing to Jungkook. “What happened to not seeing me before the wedding? That was your rule!”

“Hayun, we need to talk.”

“Talk about wh—” she cuts off, her question turning into a gasp. Your wide eyes flick to you. “You told him?”

“What? No!”

Your protest rings out at the same time that Jungkook says, “She’s my true mate.”

A breeze kicks up, sweeping from behind you and tossing errant strands of hair across Hayun’s forehead. You’d give anything for the power to pluck the wind from the air, shove it back…keep it from showering her with yours and Jungkook’s combined scents—a blatant confirmation echoing the words Jungkook just let loose.

Hayun stiffens. Her jaw goes rigid, and her face pales as her nostrils flare. It’s a moment that will be forever written across the band of your friendship. Betrayal flashes through her eyes before morphing into something akin to somber resignation.

“Hayun,” Jungkook begins. “I don’t—we didn’t…I’m sorry. What do we do?” He spreads his hands out in front of himself in a helpless manner.

By this time, Jimin and Taehyung have come up from behind Hayun, faces wary as they take in the scene with growing clarity. You look to Taehyung, hoping he can see the silent plea in your eyes.

“Explain,” Hayun says simply. Despite how collected she seems, you can see the subtle tremble in her hands and the way the muscles in her neck continue to flex and strain as she clenches and grinds her teeth.

Jungkook launches into recounting the events that brought you to his room and broke the proverbial dam. “We—we had no idea. I swear this is the first time we’ve ever met, and gods, the bracelets…” Jungkook trails off, a pained sound rumbling from his chest.

“Is this a joke?” Taehyung asks accusingly, and it’s like a barb to your heart.

“We wouldn’t do that.” Your croaked statement draws Hayun’s attention.

Hayun sniffles, her chin jerking a little higher into the air. “My nose tells me one thing, but my heart tells me another. Did you know about this last night? Is that why you pushed so hard for me to tell him?” The last part is whispered, meant only for you, which hurts even more.

“Hayun, no! You know that’s impossible. I couldn’t have known.”

“Tell me what?” Jungkook asks, having heard despite her whisper, his eyes swiveling between you and Hayun.

You shake your head at him, not wanting to throw further fuel on the fire. “Hayun, please, believe me.”

A pregnant moment full of thick tension passes before it fizzles, and Hayun shakes her head, not in a dismissive fashion but in gentle acceptance. “I believe you,” she tells you. “I guess…I guess there won’t be a wedding in four hours unless you two want…” She trails off, a bittersweet smile tugging at her cherry red painted lips.

Jungkook blanches, wide eyes landing on you. “What? Us? No. I mean, sorry…but—”

Hayun holds up her hand, quelling Jungkook’s flustered response. “I was teasing, Koo, trying to lighten the mood. Um,” she pauses, absently twisting the diamond engagement ring around her finger before slowly slipping it off and closing a fist around it. “Can we talk, though? There’s something I needed to tell you today anyway.”

“Okay,” Jungkook says wearily.

“Tae, do you mind…?” Hayun asks, not even having to fill in the blanks. Her brother instantly steps into his role as protector and savior.

“Don’t worry about anything. I’ll make some phone calls,” Taehyung assures her before grabbing Jimin’s arm and starting back down the walking path.

“I’ll just—” you thumb over your shoulder in the direction Tae and Jimin just disappeared in “—be in my room.”

“Wait,” Hayun calls, pulling your retreat up short. “Come here.” She opens her arms, her hands opening and closing in grabby motions. “Please.”

A sob cracks from your throat as you throw yourself at her, wrapping your arms around her neck. “I’m so sorry, Hayun. I’m so sorry.”

“Hush. None of that. This isn’t anything we could have predicted or stopped from happening. If anything, maybe this is life’s way of getting back at me for what I did to him,” she whispers in your ear. “This is how it’s meant to be.”

Hayun smoothes a hand over your back and releases you. She steps back, using the back of a finger to lift the tears from your cheeks, and gives you a watery smile.

You’re not sure you can speak without completely losing yourself, so you just give her a tight nod and continue back on your way down the path. A part of you wants to hear what she has to say to Jungkook, to be there to soothe any hurts or aches…which is a startling realization that you’d not just tend to Hayun but to Jungkook, too. That internal, visceral part of you yearns to turn on your heel and…protect what’s yours.

It’s an odd revelation to think of Jungkook as yours. Well, yours unless either of you reject the bond. Though, that thought makes your stomach pitch and roil. You have to trail a hand along the wall in the hall leading to your room to keep yourself from curling over your abdomen at just the idea.

Once back in your room, you’re unsure what to do with yourself, so you absently start to gather your belongings and pack them up. Every few minutes, you find yourself pausing to stare at the door, ears pricking at the slightest sound from beyond it.

You’re not sure what you’re expecting. Whether it’s Hayun coming to your room so the two of you can cry together or Jungkook coming to claim y—uh, you shove that thought aside quickly because now is not the time. At. All.

The time for the wedding comes and passes without a single knock on your door nor a text or call on your phone. You’re tempted to go looking. For what, you’re not entirely sure—an answer, maybe, some sort of direction on what you should do now.

Finally, after hours of sitting in silence with just your thoughts for company, a soft knock sounds at your door. The long hem of your dress nearly trips you up in your haste to make it to the door. It swings open, and for some reason, your stomach drops, the flutter of disappointment heavy and unexpected.

“Hey, beautiful,” Taehyung says, his voice soft and full of emotion. “Mind if I come in?”

His necktie is loose, and the top button of his dress shirt is undone. There is a tension in his eyes that wasn’t there earlier. It makes your chest ache.

“Sure,” you say, stepping back and letting him into your room.

Taehyung sighs, perches on the end of your bed, and props his elbows on his knees. His chin rests on an upturned fist, his other hand dangling between his legs, clutching his phone.

He opens his mouth, a single word the only thing coming out, “So.”

“So,” you parrot.

“Hayun wants me to take her home…alone. I’m not sure what all she and Jungkook talked about, but I think they’re at least amicable in agreeing that it would be best if he gave her a few days at home alone before they start the process of separating their lives.” You’re not sure if the bitter tinge in your chest is hurt because Hayun isn’t the one telling you this or because now you have to find your own way to the airport. As if reading your thoughts, Taehyung continues, “I can be back in two days, maybe sooner, depending on traffic. Perhaps they’ll let you extend your stay. If not, I can talk to Jimin—”

“No, Tae, it’s okay. I’ll figure something out. Don’t worry about me. Just take care of Hayun, make sure she’s okay...as okay as she can be, at least. Fuck.” The last word comes out choked, and you gnash your teeth on the inside of your cheek to keep from letting the angry tears out. You have no right to be angry. Hell, you’re not even sure why you’re angry. It just seems like the easiest emotion to feel right now, the only one that doesn’t leave you feeling like your world is slowly imploding.

“Hey,” Taehyung says, bringing one of his big hands up to cup the side of your face. His thumb prods at the swell of your cheek, causing you to release the tension in your jaw. “Hayun isn’t the only one I’m worried about here.”

“I’m fine—I will be fine,” you amend. “I promise. I think I’m just feeling overwhelmed. I’m mad at myself for ruining Hayun’s big day. I can’t believe this is happening at all. This…this just doesn’t happen. This is the kind of shit you read about in books, it’s not supposed to be real life.”

And there it is, you surmise—the truth of the matter. None of what’s happened makes sense. It honestly belongs on the pages of a book or in a movie script, not in your real life. It still feels surreal. If it weren’t for the subtle, lingering ache you instinctively know is associated with finding your true mate but not allowing yourself to fully accept it, you’d think this was all some elaborate party trick or impractical joke.

Taehyung smiles at you, but the unease in his eyes can’t be masked that easily. “I’m not sure what to say or what to do. You’re right. This isn’t a situation I think anyone was prepared for or ever thought possible, actually. But, here we are…and we have to face it the best way we can.” He pauses for a moment, looking thoughtful. “I'll tell you what: I’ll text Jimin—he’s a good guy, I think you’ll enjoy his company—and ask him to meet you in the lounge. Have a few drinks, wind down, and try to relax as best you can.”

“Sure,” you say lamely, trying to muster up at least a little bit of enthusiasm.

“That’s my girl.” Taehyung offers you another smile, this one not so tense. “Here, I have something for you.” He fishes into his pant pocket and produces a familiar thin silver chain, a tiny crescent moon dangling near one end.

The sight has your spine straightening. “Right, of course.” You quickly thumb open the clasp on the bracelet around your wrist, letting it fall from your skin for the first time since you put it on when Hayun gave it to you all those years ago. It never felt right to take it off…not until now.

Taehyung helps you swap the bracelet with the one in his hand. The metal feels cold against your skin and you immediately miss the subtle fragrance of Hayun’s scent clinging to your wrist. Though, you suppose that’s what has gotten you both into this mess to begin with. Taehyung explains in soft words how Jungkook explained to Hayun about the scent mix-up with the bracelets—such a silly, seemingly insignificant thing…the catalyst to spark such a colossal moment.

“I’m going to get on the road with Hayun, but I’ll call you as soon as we get to her place and check in on you, okay?”

Sitting at the bar with Jungkook’s best friend seemed like a good idea when Taehyung first presented it to you. But, at the time, you weren’t connecting the dots that Jimin was Jungkook’s best friend. He was just Jimin, the guy that just so happened also to be part of the wedding party that you had met in passing briefly, but he seemed like a good enough person. Now, however, you feel all the awkward tension radiating right between your shoulder blades, emphasized by the silence lingering between the two of you.

You traded in your lilac dress for jeans and a light silk blouse, canvas slip-ons in place of your slippers, yet no matter how comfortable you know your clothing is, you can’t shake the prickling discomfort eating away at the back of your neck.

“Want another?” Jimin asks, nodding to your mostly watered-down rum and coke. It’s barely late afternoon, and as much as Taehyung’s suggestion of a drink sounded like just what you needed, you’ve found yourself not in the mood to drink after all.

“Um, nah. I’m okay, thanks.”

“Cool. Okay. I’ll be right back.” Jimin drums his fingers on the tabletop and pops his lips before giving you a slight head nod and pushing up from his chair.

You watch as he saunters to the long bar, his crescent moon tattoo on the nape of his neck peeking out from the top of his collar, and props his elbows onto the shiny top. His smile is flirty and casual as the bartender, a beautiful woman with long, inky tresses and fiery red lipstick, sidles up in front of him.

They’re too far away for you to hear their conversation, but her tinkling laughter carries across the space, and you know it might be a while before Jimin returns to your table.

Which you’re okay with. Considering you know you’re not exactly pleasant company right now, you don’t blame him one bit. You glance down at your phone, once again reading the last text message Hayun sent you not too long ago.

Eunseo stopped by the lounge around the same time Jimin showed up. If her smile and lingering hug were any indicator, she clearly had a thing for him. She gave you a small wave goodbye before giving Jimin another hug and heading out. Apparently, she was going to follow Taehyung and Hayun back to Hayun and Jungkook’s place to help Hayun with whatever she needed over the next few days.

Does it hurt that your best friend is relying on someone else, her new best friend? Yes. Do you also understand why? Also, yes, but that doesn’t make the sting hurt any less.

You’re just about to give up and retreat back to your room, which the front desk still hasn’t given you a definitive answer about whether or not your stay can be extended while you wait for Tae, when a shadow falls across your table a second before.

“Do you mind if I sit?” Jungkook asks in a low voice.

He fidgets, threading and unthreading his fingers together while he waits for your answer. The suit he had half on earlier is gone, and in its place is a dark pair of jeans, the knees worn fashionably, and an oversized white graphic t-shirt. Black sneakers peek out from the rounded bottoms of his pant legs.

You clear your throat, forcing your eyes away from his and instead on the glass sitting in a puddle of condensation on the table before you. “Oh, I—uh, I was actually about to go. You’re welcome to the table, though. Jimin was—” You cut off, realizing Jimin is no longer in the lounge at all. “Well, he was here,” you add with a frown.

Jungkook scratches a hand across the back of his neck and gives you a hesitant smile. “Yeah, he texted me. He went…well, that doesn’t matter. Could we, um…can we talk?”

“Yes.” The response is out of your mouth before he even finishes asking. “Please, I think I’d like that,” you say, nodding toward the open seat across from you.

A shaky breath rattles from Jungkook as he eases into the empty seat. “Have you talked to Hayun at all?” he asks after a moment’s hesitation.

“A text message, but that’s all. I’m not sure she wants to talk to me right now.” Needing something to do with your hands, you trace a finger along the edge of the water pooled around the bottom of your glass and use your other to poke more drops on the side of your cup, making them race down to join the growing puddle.

Jungkook nods, his lips pursing thoughtfully. “She told me what happened last night. Her confession.” That draws your attention back to him, and you wait, fingers still on the glass, intent on hearing what he says next. “I thought I’d be angrier finding out the woman I’ve been with for years—the woman I was hours away from marrying—had cheated on me…but I’m not. For the life of me, I’m not mad at her…even though I know I should be.”

“How do you feel?”

Maybe it’s none of your business, but you have to ask.

Blowing out a breath, Jungkook slides one of his hands across the table and, giving you plenty of time to protest or pull away, slowly slides his fingers between yours, effectively joining his hand with yours. It’s the first time hand-holding has felt so intimate yet wholly innocent.

“Relieved, I think,” he finally says. “Grateful, maybe? Hayun was hurt. As she has every right to be, but she said she also felt relief, too. I think, as much as she said she loved me, she was still holding back even in the end.” With a rueful shake of his head, he tacks on, “We were just a disaster waiting to happen, held together only by the thin chain of a bracelet. We would have shattered eventually.”

Jungkook’s eyes drop to where your fingers are entwined with his, trailing up to your wrist to land on the object he just spoke of.

“I’m relieved, too,” you whisper. Your eyes meet his as he glances up, and you’re instantly captivated.

This is the first time you’ve allowed yourself to really study Jungkook. His hair is tousled like he’d been running his hands through it for hours. You suppose he probably had been and wonder if that’s one of his nervous ticks.

The bow of his lips is prominent and draws your eyes. Your gaze lingers on his lips, making small mental notes at everything you see, like the tiny beauty mark under his bottom lip. His straight nose leads you to his expressive eyes, so dark and full of secrets you want to be privy to.

To say Jungkook is handsome would be a gross understatement. You’re not sure if it’s the fact he’s your true mate or just simply a gorgeous being, but he is pleasing to the eyes, that’s for sure.

You mentally kick yourself for thinking such thoughts about your best friend’s almost-husband after everything that has just happened. It’s not in good taste to entertain these thoughts so soon, right? True mate or not.

Yet, you can’t shove those thoughts away completely.

“Where did you go just now?” Jungkook asks, tilting his head and studying you intently.

Not wanting to explain yourself and the thoughts you were just having, you choose to ask him a question instead. “So, what now?”

You’re thankful Jungkook doesn’t push you to answer. He shifts in his seat and withdraws his fingers from between yours.

“I think we start with…” he trails off, a playful smile tugging up the side of his mouth as he holds the hand he pulled back in the air in front of you in offering. “Hi, I’m Jungkook.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, you smile. A laugh escapes you, and you instantly feel a thousand times lighter with that simple action.

As you take his hand back into yours, allowing yourself to truly savor the feel of his skin against yours, you realize that no matter what happens with Hayun or the fact that you live thousands of miles apart from Jungkook…everything is going to be okay and maybe you wouldn’t have ignored Taehyung’s text after all.

🥀🥀🥀

Jungkook, 3 months later

The flight was long but worth it. Jungkook stretches as he climbs out of the Uber he took from the airport. You would have picked him up. In fact, you are supposed to pick him up…just, not until next week. He decided to surprise you by coming early. He hopes you don’t mind.

Time seemed to drag to a near stand-still following that fateful day at the bed and breakfast where he was so sure he’d be joining his life with Hayun’s officially. No one could have anticipated what actually went down that day. But, in the end, he and Hayun parted ways on pleasant terms, and it’s actually thanks to her that he’s here right now, a week early.

Jungkook was worried that with everything that happened, yours and Hayun’s friendship might suffer. But, surprisingly—and thankfully—you guys have been getting on great. Hayun has been looking at work prospects in Thailand but, from what you’ve told Jungkook, is planning to visit you and Taehyung for Christmas.

It’s been three months, and not a day has gone by that Jungkook hasn’t talked to you in some capacity. From the moment he offered to be your ride to the airport, and you agreed, he’s thought about nothing other than getting on a plane and following you. The draw to you is just that strong.

You’ve expressed similar feelings, already having planned a return trip to Seoul next month. Neither Jungkook nor you have really talked about what the future holds or how to even begin to navigate it. But Jungkook hopes that during the week he is here, you can both begin to figure that out.

Giddiness makes his tattooed fingers shake as he reaches out and grasps the brass knocker on your door. He gives it a rap against the thick wood and waits. Jungkook counts the breaths as his anticipation rises. It’s only three and a half exhales before he hears the soft pad of your feet on the other side of the door.

Jungkook can imagine you pressing up onto your tip toes in order to peer through the peephole. He’d pay money to be able to see the look on your face when you see it’s him. Not being able to see your face doesn’t take away from the dopamine rush he gets when the sound of your surprised squeal sounds through the door.

“Jungkook!” Your shout is followed by the frantic sound of you disengaging the locks on your door before you swing it open and launch yourself at him. “What the fuck are you doing here? Oh, my gods! Why didn’t you tell me? You’re here!”

It feels good to laugh, but it feels even better to have you in his arms finally. The brief embrace he shared with you at the airport when he dropped you off was not enough and is what drove him to try and come sooner than planned.

Jungkook savors the warmth of your soft body pressed against his, your arms tight around his neck. Running one of his hands up your spine, he clasps the back of your neck and uses his hold there to angle your head away from his neck so he can look you in the face.

“Surprise,” he whispers. “I couldn’t wait any longer.”

You sigh dreamily, your eyes fluttering closed for a second like you’re savoring the feeling of being in his arms. “Pleasant surprise,” you murmur with a smile on your face.

Jungkook can’t help himself. He wants so badly to know if your smile tastes as good as he thinks it will. The press of his lips against yours causes you to melt against him, a throaty sound escaping around the intrusion of his tongue as he works it between your lips.

“Your taste,” he groans, forcing his mouth away from yours before the allure of you can drive him completely mad. Who is he kidding? He’s already there. “I need more.”

🥀🥀🥀

Those words do something to you.

I need more.

They echo the thoughts you’ve been harboring for the last three months. You’ve ached with those words, desperately willing yourself to be patient and let it happen when it’s meant to happen.

But, fuck, it feels so good to have him in your arms, to have his mouth brushing against yours. He tastes divine, a warm sweetness that compliments the musk of his scent that is slowly wrapping itself around you.

“Take me. Take it all,” you urge, completely baring yourself to him, body, mind, and soul. “I’m yours.”

It’s a frenzy, the frantic discarding of clothing. Your fingers work to free him of his jeans while also helping him with the criss-cross straps of your lounging romper. You don’t care that you’re still standing by your front door, bared down to your underwear. The only thing you’re focusing on now is how Jungkook holds you at arm's length and drinks you in from head to toe.

“You…are…everything.” The way he whispers those words crawls under your skin, rooting itself deep in your being. You feel sexy…desired, and unbelievably empty—your body clenches, the ache deep between your thighs. You’ve never been so turned on from just taking your clothes off before, from whispered words and a heated look.

Jungkook allows you to undress him as slow or as fast as you want. You try to take your time and savor every inch of skin you expose. But, you can barely contain yourself when you get to his jeans, shoving them unceremoniously down his thighs with your eyes locked on the many planes and angles of his toned chest and stomach.

Your fingers ghost over his skin, eliciting goosebumps in their wake as you explore the smooth and lush expanse of his shoulders and down his arms. Without needing to say anything more, he gathers you into his arms and covers your mouth with his once more.

It’s a miracle you make it to your bedroom. But, seeing Jungkook sprawled out on your bed is a sight you’ll never forget, with his lowered lids and bottom lip caught between his teeth. You want to taste every inch of him, from the tips of his ears down to the defined muscles of his calves.

Now, though, your gaze focuses on the front of his tented boxer briefs. The dark grey material has darkened even further, where you can see the distinct outline of the head of his cock. Saliva pools in your mouth.

You crawl on the bed, knees slotting between his, your hands on either side of his hips. With your eyes locked on his, you lean down and mouth gently at the wetness. You moan at the flavor of him, your tongue peeking out to seek more.

“Fuck,” you curse. “You taste so good.”

Jungkook lets out a quick breath. “You can’t say shit like that, baby girl. You’re going to make me lose it.” He flicks his eyes up to the ceiling, his lips moving like he’s sending up a silent prayer, before looking back down at you. “You have maybe three seconds before I can’t hold back any longer and tear that ass up.”

You chuckle softly, pouting out your lips in a faux sullen manner. “Yes, sir.”

That earns a growl from Jungkook that has heat racing down your spine as you hook your fingers into the band of his Calvin Klein’s and pull them down. He lifts his hips, helping you free him from their confines.

His cock stands so pretty before you, the full heft bobbing against his belly, smearing a pearl of precum against his golden skin. You dive in, licking at the sticky mess before taking the tip between your lips and lavishing your tongue over his slit.

Jungkook fists the sheets, a litany of curses falling from his lips. “Please,” he chokes.

You keep your eyes locked on his as you inch your way down his length, your jaw forcing itself wider to accommodate as much of him as you can. The blunt head of his cock presses against the back of your throat. You take a steadying breath in through your nose before forcing yourself a little further until your throat constricts around him and you have to pull back.

The second your mouth leaves his cock, saliva stringing from your lips to his tip, Jungkook grabs you and hauls you up over him. You laugh, loving the heat emanating from his body as yours covers his.

“What are you doing?” you gasp.

His strong hands land on your hips and tangle in the band of your panties. “I need these off. Please. I need you. I want to feel you…be inside you.”

You want that, too, you realize, your body already primed and begging for it. The sweet, fragrant notes of your arousal saturate the air, mixing with Jungkook’s to paint a picture of hedonism and wanton desires.

The rest of your clothes come off, your bra and panties are tossed to the side, leaving you utterly bare to him. Your inner thighs slide like velvet over his hips as you move your body against his until you can feel the press of the head of his cock against your entrance.

You wrap a hand around his base, angling him perfectly. It’s a slow descent into madness, the lowering of your body onto his. His eyes bore into yours, pouring out everything that has been building to this moment, this pinnacle that will forever throttle you onto a different path for your future—with him. You can feel every perfect inch slide along your walls as they adjust and welcome him. It’s like sliding home; he is the perfect fit for your body, filling you completely.

The pace you set, at first, is languid. An easy rise and fall of your hips as you both learn the body of the other. Jungkook’s hands mold around your breasts, his thumbs caressing over the pert points of your nipples.

“You feel so good,” you tell him, emphasizing your words with a generous roll of your hips. “So much better than I imagined.”

“You imagined it often?” he asks, a teasing tone to his words.

With the amount of teasing photos and videos you’ve shared with each other over the last few weeks, he knows you have. You can tell he’s just giving you a hard time. That’s fine, because you can…

Jungkook throws his head back as you arch yours, letting his cock hit that special place inside that has you both seeing stars. “Fuck!” His hands drop to your hips, landing with a satisfying smack. His grip tightens, dimpling the supple flesh around his fingers. “Can I knot you?” he asks with a breathless moan. You’ve never taken an alpha’s knot. The idea has your body pulsing around his, flooding slick onto his pelvis as you continue to roll your hips. “Fuck, baby girl, do you like that idea? You want to take my knot like a good girl?”

You can’t even form a coherent thought, much less answer him. The only thing that comes out of your mouth is a panting keen, your chin jerking up and down as you frantically nod your want.

Jungkook braces his feet against the mattress and uses his grip on your hips as leverage to thrust upward, sending you forward onto your hands. He’s relentless, pounding into you from below to the point your eyes roll back, and you have to squeeze them shut. Tiny pinpricks of light burst behind your lids as your body coils tighter than ever before.

You cry out as he sends you over the edge, your body careening into an unfathomable abyss of pleasure. The sounds coming from around his cock as it pounds into you are slick and obscene, debauched yet wholly satisfying.

“Alpha, need your knot,” you mewl, your lips finding the triskelion tattoo over Jungkook’s left pec muscle. You nibble at it, your teeth sinking softly into the skin.

“Oh, baby, fuck…fuck…Fuuuckkk!” Jungkook shouts, the sound turning into a guttural snarl as his body goes primal.

He seats himself completely inside of you with one final, deliberate thrust, and then you can feel the swell of his knot capture within you. It hurts, your pleasure turning into a moment of pain and panic. You squirm, trying to lift your hips from his, but the clasp of his hands on your body won’t let you go far. You whine, “J-Jungkook.”

“I know, baby girl, I know. Relax. Let your body do what it needs to do.”

It’s like those words unlock some inner Omega part of your brain, and suddenly you feel your body rush with endorphins and dopamine as it accepts the thick jets of his cum now flooding in. Like administering a drug, it’s such a fast transition that you feel lightheaded and giddy, sheepish and almost silly over your moment of panic.

“Gods, that feels so…good.” You wiggle in his arms, gasping as his knot pulls tight. You want more, need more of that feeling…need more of his cum. “More, Alpha, please.”

Jungkook pants, a tired smile on his face. You can feel it when his cock pulses inside you, dribbling even more liquid heat into your body in answer to your plea. “That’s my pretty girl,” Jungkook coos, brushing a hand across your forehead. “You’re so beautiful taking my knot, full of my cum.” He curses softly, reverently, and another gush of heat fills your body. “I’m going to take such good care of you. I swear it.”

You fall into a half-sleep, content and sated as you are. There are no worries about the future, nor the past. You are happy…all thanks to a pair of golden cufflinks.

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mountainsandmayhem · 1 month ago

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BDSMaid - Chapter 5 Part Two

Series Summary: After recently graduating you take what is supposed to be a job to save money before you go back to university to get your law degree. Your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. Easy. Simple. Mundane. Until one of your clients is home and everything you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.

Chapter Summary: You and Joel go to a Shibari class together; an innocent date, or is it?

TW: age gap (Joel 45/reader 22), reader does have some descriptors so more of an OC. Reader has longer hair and Joel can lift her. Mutual pining, kissing. Spoiler triggers below the cut in red.

WC: 8.2k

AN: Ok fiiiiiinnnneeeeee I couldn't wait any longer and I left you all on kind of a cliffhanger. As always, thank you to my lovely @lotusbxtch for reading and encouraging and helping me grow. Thanks @mermaidgirl30 , @littlevenicebitch69 and @joelmillerisapunk for being my lil cheerleaders. @for-a-longlongtime thanks for stoping me from working on that bull rider series LOL. Ok, enjoy this slowly because I haven't even STARTED chapter 6 yet, so I doubt it will be out until late October. Dividers and banners by the oh so talented @saradika-graphics

Masterlist || Series Masterlist

TW: complete sensory deprivation (tied down, blind folded and has hearing blocked), multiple orgasms, denial

Joel

Joel has tried to keep his distance since referring to tonight as a date. He left another large tip for your clean this week and then made sure he was as busy as possible to stop himself from going home to see you. As he coaxed you into drinking the orange juice and the water he kept hearing “it’s a date” over and over again in his mind, and he’d cringe internally. He wouldn’t have blamed you if you had leaped out of that bed and ran home. The thought of you wanting him in that way is ridiculous. Not only because he’s over twice your age, but you came to him for help with building self confidence and for an escape, and then he went and said something so fucking stupid.

He shakes his head and pulls up his emails, trying to distract himself for what feels like the one hundredth time. Of course he wants to date you, he’d be crazy not to, but he can’t blur those lines. Furthermore, even if there was the slightest chance that you felt the same way he can’t risk breaking your heart the way he’s broken so many others.

She’s going to break yours, old man. Not the other way around.

Wednesday has been absolutely crawling. Time almost mocking him with how slow it’s ticking by. As he goes over the list of tonight's guests, Tess knocks on his small office door at the club.

“Hey,” she says, plopping down in the arm chair across from the desk. “You coming tonight?”

“Of course. Looks like a good turn out. Did the instructor make it in ok?”

“Cap picked her up from the airport yesterday and got her all settled at the hotel. Do you think you’re going to need me tonight?”

Joel cocks an eyebrow at her. He’s known Tess since she was ten. Her and Tommy are the same age, Joel being two years their senior. Aside from a few months when Tess and Tommy were sixteen, the three of them have been inseparable ever since. Tess was usually the undeclared leader of the group due to her bossy nature, but she kept the Miller brothers out of trouble most of the time.

“What’s wrong, Tess?”

“Nothin’,” she crosses her arms across her chest. “I am the planner, you and Tommy are the personality. I’m fine to stay behind the scenes for this one.”

“You’ve been acting strange since the poker night.”

She rolls her eyes at him. She’s probably the only person ballsy enough to do that to Joel besides Tommy, but Joel’s almost convinced his little brother is more dumb than ballsy. “I’m fine, Joel. The staff is all in good morale, and that’s my department. Remember?”

Joel just stares as she continues, lowering her voice to mock his. “I need you to be the people person. Hire them, train them. I’m not patient enough because I’m a big scary dom who will just want to spank them for not listening. I also can’t plan anything because I have a man brain.”

“Hilarious,” Joel deadpans as Tess laughs at her own jokes. “I’m being serious though, are you sure you're ok?”

“Yes, you don’t need to be concerned about me. I’m actually a little gutted I’m gonna miss it. Tommy told me there’s been a very pretty young lady hanging around you lately.”

Joel puts his reading glasses on with one hand and pointing to his door with the other. “Out.”

You

Joel referring to tonight as a date has been on loop for the last few days. He has this amazing way of shutting off your brain and then leaving you with so many new questions. Either way, when a few more college letters came over the last few days you convinced yourself that right before leaving for the shibari-demonstration-slash-date was the best time to open them.

Odette and Jamie sit on the couch across from you as you slide open the first letter. The thick eggshell parchment stamped with the Yale logo pops open easily. You close your eyes as you open the paper, the only sound in the room is the thundering of your heart behind your ribs.

You peel your eyes open and read out loud. “We regret to inform you that you have not…” your voice falls off, fingers shaking as you put it back in the envelope.

“Hey, we expected a few no’s,” Jamie says gently, always the optimist.

Odette takes the other approach, “Their fucking loss, bunch of stuffy old cunts! Next!”

You laugh at the juxtaposition of your friends' responses and reach for the Harvard letter. “We regret to inform you…”

“Keep going babe,” Jamie says softly.

You pick up the bright white Columbia letter. “We regret to inform you…fuck.” You feel the defeat start to creep in, like thick morning fog. It’s suffocating, choking all the happiness and excitement you had for tonight.

“What the fuck is wrong with these schools!” Odette says, snatching the letters up so she can check for herself. “Do the Toronto one, Canadians are supposed to be nice.”

“I can’t open anymore,” you say as your head falls back into the sofa. The fog starts to spread through your body, shutting you down inch by inch. You know you have to open the rest. You’ll spend the rest of the night wondering what they say if you don’t finish them. “You do it, Jamie.”

She shuffles in her seat uncomfortably. She’s not the kind of girl who likes to disappoint others; she's bright and happy but at this moment she’s the only person that you can take bad news from. As if she can read your thoughts, she grabs the University of Toronto letter. The sound of the envelope popping open slices through you. She clears her throat as she opens the paper and then reads aloud the same sentence you did. The letters from Duke and Notre Dame follow the same painful routine. With each rejection your stomach swirls, nausea building on top of self doubt and anxiety.

Six out of the eight universities you applied to have turned you down; Berkeley and the University of Austin are your only chances left at reaching your dreams. The silence in the small rental unit has you on edge, so much so that when your phone vibrates beside you you jump. A sunset beach photo from your last trip to California is the background from a text from Cap telling you he’ll be at your doorstep in about twenty minutes.

“I gotta finish getting ready,” you say, dragging yourself to the bathroom to touch up any makeup and brush your teeth.

“Babe?” Jamie says, following you down the hall. “You wanna stay here instead of going to that mixer?”

The reminder of the lie sends a new wave of nausea through you. Tonight you became a law school reject and an even bigger liar. Don’t forget that you’re also falling in love with an unattainable man, says the glittery pink box. You mentally lift a single finger in its direction, it usually doesn’t turn on you like that.

“I need the distraction.” You say, deciding that that’s not really a lie.

Your friends look at you with sadness in their eyes and even though you’re sad too, you wish you could tell them about Mister Miller and the club. You know they’d be excited about whatever this thing is and it would really help to have someone to decipher all the moments that live in your mind.

“It’s a date”.

When you walk through the large door from the lobby and into the club, you’re welcomed by a completely different atmosphere. It’s not all dim lights and sexy music like it normally is; instead the overhead lights are on and all the people are dressed in regular clothing or athletic wear and not the sexy outfits they’d normally pick to come here. Joel is no exception, dressed in dark wash jeans and a fitted black t-shirt. You catch the glint of his gold ring while he’s engrossed in deep conversation with a blue and purple haired woman along the edge of the dance floor. As if you’re his due north or the other side of his magnet, after just seconds of being in the same room as him, his eyes collide with yours. He mouths an ‘excuse me’ at the woman without looking away from and his long legs eat up the distance between the two of you. He meets you just before the bar and immediately wraps his arms around you, one hand coming to the nape of your neck, silently guiding your forehead to his strong chest.

“What’s wrong, sweet girl?” You love how easily he can read you, but you hate that this is the second time this week that he’s seeing you like this. You know you have moments of weakness, but you don’t let anyone see that and you DEFINITELY don’t inconvenience others with your weakness.

“Hasn’t been my best day, but I really don’t want to talk about it.” You don’t want to dump all of this on him now, not when he looked so excited when you said you’d attend tonight.

“Ok, I’m here for you if you want to talk about it though. You don’t have to deal with this on your own.” His lips come to the crown of your head and you breathe him in letting his ash and leather scent break down your walls.

“I didn’t get in,” you mumble and he holds you tighter for a brief second before his hand moves to your chin and tilts up to meet your gaze.

“All of them?” he asks gently but something akin to anger flares in eyes for just a second.

“Six of them. I haven’t heard from two.” His thumb feels like heaven as it runs along your jaw.

From across the club the blue and purple haired woman, who is now on the stage, claps her hands. “Good evening, everyone! I’m Starr. If you and your brave partners could start making your way to the floor, we can get started right away!”

“Do you want to leave?” Joel says, his warm coffee and chocolate eyes dancing around yours. No one looks at you like that; no one ever asks what you want. This is one of those looks that you wish you could talk to your friends about.

“No,” you say truthfully. “I want to be here with you.”

“I wasn’t going to let you leave without me. Do you want to go somewhere else together?”

You step back and grab his hand, his fingers thread through yours as if you do this everyday, as if this is normal, and you pull him towards the floor. He stands behind you, an arm wrapped protectively around your middle, similar to how he did the first time you went through the voyeur room. Starr introduces herself and her wife and then begins explaining rope safety and terminology like rigger and rope bunny, before launching into a step by step on tying a beautiful star harness across her wifes clothed chest. The two women hand ropes to the person who will be doing the rigging and as the rope lands in Joel’s hand your pussy flutters at the realization that you’re about to become Mister Miller’s rope bunny. You knew that coming here tonight, even if it did include lying to your friends, would help you feel better. The disappointment of being rejected is slowly replaced with an excited anticipation of learning something new with a man who has done nothing but choose you since laid your eyes on each other.

Starr projects step by step instructions up on the back wall of the stage and Joel clears his throat behind you as he begins. The sound of the rope running through his hands as he folds it in half sends a shiver up your spine. You try to distract yourself by clipping your hair up and out of the way.

“Arms up,” he rasps, and places a light kiss on the soft curve of your neck as he wraps the rope around your ribcage, just below your breasts. You purposely wore a tight t-shirt and leggings tonight. If anyone asks, you’ll say you just assumed it would be easier to be in something form fitting rather than loose, but the truth is that you did some research on Shibari classes and it was recommended to wear clothing that was tight to the body. As he walks around you to make the first diagonal cross of your chest he says, “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

You lock your eyes with his as he loops back up, crossing the rope over your other shoulder and walks behind you. “Yes, at least not yet.”

“Alright,” he says softly, pulling the rope back through the first band he made. “What do you want to talk about then?”

Your daughter. Your wife. The guitars and books of lyrics. Where do you see yourself in 5 years? Do you like me or do you like like me? How do you feel about an age gap romance? Your brain races with a million things you could ask, and maybe would ask on a date. However, this is anything but a date, right? A dom and sub don’t date, there are strict rules. He tells you what to do, you do it. You don’t date.

The silence between you two feels like it’s lasted forever, you flinch as you ask the first thing you can think of. “How old are you?”

“Almost forty five. It says that on my profile, sweet girl. For someone who likes research…” His voice trails off. Is he flirting?

“I refuse to look at it in case you try to pawn me off to Tommy again,” you tease. You bite your cheek to hold in all the questions you want to ask as he chuckles behind you. You lift your arms as per the next slide and he brings the rope up towards your armpit as you settle on a neutral topic. “Baseball,” you say flatly.

Joel laughs silently as he walks around your body, the rope coming across to your other armpit and he’s behind you again. “Baseball?”

“Ya, it’s America’s favourite pastime.” Joel's fingers feel warm through the fabric of your shirt as he continues to work the ropes.

“Ok, so what do you want to discuss about baseball?” He wanders in front of you again, following the instructions perfectly.

You shrug a little, lifting your arms again as you follow along with the slides. “Did you ever play?”

Starr circles around the two of you, “Great job, Joel. You ok, honey? Not too tight anywhere?”

You shake your head no and then you and Joel get lost in each other again. “Yes, I played for most of my childhood. I was pretty good too.”

You chuckle, “Why am I not surprised.”

“What?” he says, half laughing.

“Seems like Joel Miller is good at everything,” you say lightly, almost in admiration. He’s behind you again, feeding the ropes through themselves. The back looks beautifully intricate, and you can see other couples getting frustrated before either Starr or her wife comes and helps them. You continue, “Let me guess, you were like a big all-star pitcher or something?”

“No,” he answers.

“What position did you play then?” You glance down at your chest at the star shape across your chest, the rope scrapes gently on the exposed skin of your neck with the movement. It’s stunning, exactly as the demonstration and the picture. Yep, Joel Miller is good at everything.

A new voice joins your conversation, “Best first baseman the school has ever seen.”

You crane your neck over your right shoulder towards the source; Tommy. You clench your molars when you see him with Jade; the beautiful icy blonde woman that Joel had tied to his desk the first time you met him. Joel shifts uncomfortably as she flutters her lashes at him. “As I was saying,” Joel huffs in his brother's direction before turning his attention back to you. “I played first base and Tommy was the back catcher. Our mom pretty much put us in any sport she could afford to keep us out of trouble.”

“That’s kind of fascinating,” you say, looking back towards the stage and trying to get back into the safe little bubble you and Joel have created.

“I dunno about that, sweet girl.”

The combination of him using that nickname and the feeling of his fingers on your body cause another shiver to roll up your spine, and suddenly it’s just the two of you again. It’s so easy to get lost with Joel, every ounce of that fog from earlier has dissipated. He’s like the warm morning sun, chasing away all the thick haze that coated you in the darkness. “I think this is a safe nickname space only, Sweet Cheeks.”

He swats your bum gently eliciting a giggle to pass your lips before getting back to weaving the rope in and out along your spine. “Careful. Now why is it kind of fascinating?”

“I mean, Tommy played at home plate, you played at first base.”

“I don’t know where you’re going here, Freckles.”

You smile over your shoulder at Joel. “Well, don’t you see the connection? You don’t have sex with your subs, Tommy does. He goes to home plate, you stay at first base.”

Joel arches an eyebrow at you as you flash him a cheeky smile and then he lets out a laugh. A real laugh that sounds like it’s coming straight from his stomach. His big beautiful smile draws up his cheeks causing the skin around his eyes to crinkle. The sound is almost enough to make you weak at the knees. “I swear to god, Freckles, I love the way your brain works.”

The rest of the group finishes off their harnesses and Starr begins the next part, explaining now how to tie the arms around the biceps and secure them to the harness. They hand out the ropes again and you reach behind yourself to criss cross your arms and grasp your opposite elbows. Just as Joel begins folding the rope over in his hands, Jade speaks.

“She sort of hit the nail on the head with that one, Mister Miller.” Envy flares in your eyes as she steps towards Joel, leaning into him. “I can’t wait for tomorrow. I’ve missed you.”

You glance towards Joel, expecting to see him looking angry but his soft eyes meet you with guilt written all over his face. You watch his throat as he swallows hard and the happy, sparkly bubble you built bursts and the fog returns. Your heart drops to your feet, it was too good to be true, you knew it was too good to be true and he almost had you fooled. You don’t think, you just act, you need to get away from this space and all these people as bile rises in your throat.

Your feet feel heavy as you walk quickly toward the voyeur room, slipping past the closed sign that's propped up outside the curtain that conceals it. Darkness surrounds you, the rope harness feels like it’s smothering you as you try to take deep calming breaths. A flash of light from the otherside of the curtain fills the room as someone follows.

“Go away, Joel.” You say quietly, trying to force air past the lump growing in your throat.

“It’s Tommy.” He says, flicking on a dim light and noting the way you’re pulling at the rope closest to your throat. “Let me untie you so you don’t hurt yourself.”

You step back, a wall slamming down around you. Tommy raises his hands, “Please, just let me untie you so you can breathe.”

You spin slowly, giving your back to him and he approaches. His fingers pulling and working the ropes and the irony of him removing knots as you start to mentally tie yourself up in them is enough to make you nauseous. You retreat into your mind, looking for that stupid box. I fucking told you! You practically scream at the shadow you know it’s hiding in.

“Try to slow your breathing for me,” Tommy says softly as the rope begins to loosen and fall away from your body. Tonight felt too normal, too comfortable. You started to feel like maybe Joel was feeling the same way you do, but now you feel like you’ve been slapped across the face with yet another reminder that you are not enough. Six out eight universities and the man you completely misread.

“I’m so fucking stupid.” It doesn’t come out self deprecating or angrily. Just as if you’re stating a fact, similar to how you’d say you like the colour green.

“No, this is on me.” The rope falls away from your body and you step away, spinning to face Tommy. “I shouldn’t have said yes when she asked me to bring her here tonight. I assumed Joel had ended it before they were in Europe.”

“What?” You breathe out in disbelief. Even though you can see the rope in Tommy’s hands, it still feels like it’s around your throat.

You wander towards the nearest couch. All those pictures, all those flirty texts and she was there the entire time? You hear your mothers voice again, ‘You might be the smartest one in this town but the real world is going to eat you up and spit you out.’ Nothing has felt more true, especially today. Six schools rejected you, selecting smarter shinier applicants and now the same thing is happening with Joel. You knew you didn’t hold a candle to her, he wanted you to go with Tommy so he could keep her, didn’t he?

‘It’s only you.’ His desperate voice from the day in his office comes out of the shadows of your mind. But it’s not only you. If he didn’t end it with her then it’s her too. You’re constantly in competitions that you have no business being in.

“No, not ‘they’. Not like that. They were there for different things, not together,” Tommy’s voice has a hint of panic. “...I’m really fucking this night up, aren’t I?”

Just then, Joel and Jade come through the curtain. “Sweet girl….”

“No,” you say, cutting him off with a wave of your hand. You want to yell and scream and ask him what was with all that “it’s only you” bullshit.

“Baby, please, just listen to me.” Joel kneels in front of you and you stand up. His hands come to either side of the couch, keeping you there. “Please?”

You can feel his eyes on you but you keep staring straight ahead, the curtains of all the rental rooms are drawn shut. “Please just go, Joel.”

Jade steps into your line of vision and you can feel the jealousy twisting at your stomach. She’s fucking beautiful. Long icy blonde hair that looks silky to touch, slender limbs and a perfectly symmetrical face. Her make up is done to perfection, and to top it all off she was kissed by an angel in the breast department.

“I’m sorry. I left the country a few days after I saw you for your birthday celebration. I went to Germany to get married and I wasn’t coming back.” Her eyes go soft for a second as she looks down at her bare left ring finger and then back to you. “Clearly I didn’t do either of those things. I haven’t spoken to Joel and I just assumed our regular time slots still stood.”

Even without looking down, you know Joel hasn’t looked away. From the moment you met him, you’ve been able to feel his gaze on you. It’s one of the things you like so much about him, the way he looks at you. You feel warm and seen, and most importantly, safe in his gaze.

Tommy clears his throat gently and you glance his way. “Ending things with a sub is tricky. It has to be done in person. I know Joel better than anyone else, he ended things with everyone else. He’s gonna beat the shit out of me for this, but he’s crazy about you and he’s only ever looked at one other person the way he looks at you.”

“Tommy,” Jade's voice cracks as she says his name. “I think you should untie me so I can leave. I really am sorry, to all of you.”

You watch the two of them disappear back into the main area of the club before you finally allow yourself to look down at Joel. His eyes are big and soft, he looks so vulnerable. Is this real though? When you think about how easily he can slide on his dominant mask you aren’t sure what you can and can’t trust, and that’s really fucking horrible considering trust is the most important thing between a sub and dom. He could be lying, he gains blow jobs and doing whatever else he wants to your body by keeping this up.

But what does Tommy gain from telling you what he just did? Tommy has no skin in the game here.

Joel

His heart is flying wildly behind his chest, blood coursing through his ears. He never thought he was going to see Jade again. Neither of them talked about it really, but after that session that you walked in on she canceled the next one and told him she was moving to be with her fiance in Germany and was getting married. He continues to look up at you; the ever growing pinch in his neck be damned, he’s not looking away. Even at this angle you manage to take his breath away. It feels like hours have gone by when you finally speak.

“I thought it was only me,” it comes out as a whisper and immediately shatters the little bits that were left of his composure.

“It is, sweet girl. I promise you it is.”

“I want to believe you,” your voice is so calm. He doesn’t deserve you being calm right now. Or does he? You came into this very methodical. Maybe these are just sub-dom transactions to you.

“What can I do?” He says hopefully. “I’ll do anything you need, sweet girl.”

You let out a shaky breath and he can see the wall building behind your eyes, that fun goofy girl who isn’t afraid to crack a joke is slowly locking herself away. He prepares himself for you to tell him this is over, or that you need time. He reminds himself that this was always going to end in heartbreak for him, so may as well get it over with now instead of when he’s fully in love with you, before he’s learned how those warm walls of your pussy feel against his cock. Because there really will be no coming back from that if that happens.

As he tightens the muscles in his core, physically preparing for the metaphorical blow to the gut he watches your long lashes flutter shut and when you open your eyes again the wall is gone. The shimmering pools of the eyes he’s enamored by are back and relief washes over him.

“Nothing, Mister Miller,” your voice is saccharine sweet. “Trust is the most important thing between a sub and their dom. I can’t let my own anxiety ruin this, but I might just be a bit guarded until I’ve calmed all those thoughts.”

He whispers your name, biting back a groan as your hands meet his hair. “I’m so sorry that happened, baby girl.”

“I know. So am I. I shouldn’t have gotten jealous. It’s just…”

“No, you can be jealous. I told you one thing and -.”

You tug at the strands of his hair and shush him. “I’m not done,” your voice is stern. Joel isn’t used to hearing your tone like that and he suddenly feels his chest swelling with pride. This sweet bubbly person in front of him is morphing into a confident badass. That’s probably the exact tone you’ll use in boardrooms or courtrooms when other lawyers try to talk over you and he can only hope that one day he’ll get to witness that. “I shouldn’t have gotten jealous, but I really like the way I feel around you. It’s selfish of me, but I’d like to keep feeling like this for the few months I have left here before I leave for law school.”

Selfish. He lets that word wash over him. The most selfless person he’s ever known is worried about being selfish? No, he thinks, she deserves this. Hearing you say that you’re leaving makes him feel like his chest is caving in on itself. He’ll deal with the inevitable heartbreak when you leave him. He knows those rejection letters were hard on you, but he helped you to feel better and he’s going to hold on to that and give you that for as long as he possibly can.

Your fingers release his hair and he watches you walk the few steps to where the rope Tommy untied for you lays on the floor. He licks his lips as you bend to pick it up, eyes trailing over the delicious curves of your ass. “It would be my pleasure, sweetheart.”

You turn, walking back towards where he’s kneeling and holding the ropes out to him you say, “Is the workshop over?”

He stands up, his fingers grazing yours as he takes the rope. Electricity tingles up his forearms at the feel of your soft skin. Your body is so close to his that he can feel your soft warmth radiating against him. You being at this proximity immediately put him at ease.

“No, there’s a bodysuit tutorial right now,” he says. You nod, stepping around him. Suddenly, Joel grabs your elbow to stop you, lowering his lips to your ear, and lowering his voice to that gravelly tone he knows you love, he rasps, “I should punish you for letting another dom untie what’s mine.”

You smirk up at him, “I’d like to see you try, Sweet Cheeks.”

You

Joel works silently around you and you lose yourself for a bit in the events that unfolded tonight. Joel has knelt in front of you before, but never like that. The sad, helpless look in his eyes, the slight slump of the shoulders. He was submitting to you, and when your fingers met his scalp, he leaned into your touch. The way his body melted at your touch was intoxicating. He wasn’t Mister Miller in that room tonight, he was Joel, and the dichotomy of this man is astounding.

After about thirty minutes of Joel twisting, turning and pulling he has your upper half tied into a zigzagged bodysuit of rope. Joel steps in front of you and bends slightly to reach between your legs. When he brings the rope between your thighs and as he feeds it through the bottom of the chest piece, the seam of your leggings brushes against your clit. You jolt at the contact, your cheeks flushing crimson as Joel's eyes meet yours in a flash of onyx and honey. He begins shaping the bottom part of the bodysuit, bent in front of you the entire time and locking eyes with yours every time he tugs the ropes into place.

You glance nervously around the room to see if anyone else is having the same reaction. You expected this night to be fun and silly, the way a date should be. And it was for a while, but now it’s taken a very erotic turn. The blush of your cheeks warms down your chest and neck as you hold off on what could be a very vocal orgasm in front of a room of people who you don’t necessarily want to witness it.

Joel finally finishes the body suit and moves to stand behind you, his patchy facial hair brushes the shell of your ear as he whispers, his voice full of gravel, “Hands behind your back, my sweet girl. We aren’t done.”

A shiver races up your spine and your arms fly back. “So eager,” Joel says softly, grazing his teeth along the lobe of your ear, adding gasoline to the small fire that’s been building between your thighs.

You’re sure the arm restraints only take about three minutes to complete, but it feels like hours. The three knots that lay around your wrists, forearms, and biceps keep your posture nice and tall, and your breasts pushed up through the body suit. Once he’s finished, Joel spins you to face him, and that rope works its way in between the lips of your now absolutely soaked pussy. You squeeze your thighs together, the soft expression on his face only intensifying the growing ache. He’s such a fucking tease, you think, and now he’s looking at you as if you put the stars in the sky. Finally, his dark brown eyes settle on yours and he gives you a closed lip smile.

“What?” You ask breathlessly.

“I jus’ thought that I’d go all caveman seein’ you like this,” he steps into you, one hand cupping your cheek, the other tugging on the rope near your waist, which jiggles the rope that has you on edge. Joel’s voice lowers, this next part just for you to hear. “But you just look so beautiful.”

He tugs up on the rope and pleasure courses through you as you gasp quietly. He gives you that sexy smirk that makes that dimple carve into his cheek.

Yep, he’s a fucking tease. The little box says, confirming your thoughts.

“You like that, sweet girl?”

He tugs again and your forehead falls to his chest. “Please, Mister Miller,” you whisper into his expensive cotton t-shirt.

Starr interrupts the two of you, but you can’t peel yourself away from Joel right now. The slightest move of that rope might make you explode. “Well, based on that reaction I’d say you tied it just right, Joel.”

“Thank you for coming, Starr. I’m sure we’ll host one of these again soon. Tommy is by the bar, he can help you kick everyone out.”

“Joel,” she says, a slight hint of amusement in her now hushed voice. “Your rope bunny is on the verge of having an orgasm, go.”

With that he hoists you over his shoulder and walks towards the door that leads to the private rooms. “Fuckfuck, I’m gonna -” you whisper into his broad back and squeeze your thighs tighter as Joel walks.

The second the door shuts, separating you from the others Joel puts you on your feet and jiggles the rope around your waist. “Come, baby.”

You fall into him for support, his other arm wrapping around you to hold you up as stars blur your vision. “That feel good, my little rope bunny?”

“Yes - oh god, yes.” Your arms pull at the ropes restraining them behind your back and you can’t hold it anymore. Your orgasm practically slams through you as you gasp and moan into Joel's broad chest. “Fuck, Mister Miller.”

“You’re so beautiful when you let go for me. I’ll never get sick of watching you like this.” He continues to work the rope as your high crests and your legs start to go weak and boneless below you.

“I can’t…p-please Mis - Fuck.” Joel lifts your lax and quivering body over his shoulder again and makes his way to his room, placing you at the foot of the bed, spinning you and pushing between your shoulder blades until your chest meets the mattress.

“Spread your legs,” he commands and you listen, moving your feet to be shoulder width apart. He wraps two cuffs around your ankles, and attaches them to the bottom of the bed posts before doing the same to the ropes around your arms. You’re trapped, stuck bent over the end of the bed and even though you’re fully clothed under all of these ropes, this is easily the hottest thing you’ve ever done. “Fuck me. How are you so goddamn sexy even when you’re fully clothed.”

You hear Joel’s footsteps around the room, gathering whatever he has decided to use on you tonight before you can feel him behind you. “Sweet girl, I do believe I read that you would be interested in sensory deprivation. Is that correct?”

“Yes, Mister Miller,” you hum.

“Do I have your consent to blindfold you and then have you listen to music in noise canceling headphones?”

Fire erupts in your stomach, your core pulsing at the thought of him doing whatever he wants to you. “Yes, Mister Miller.”

A silky black blind fold slips over your head, Joel's large body covering your back. “What’s your safeword?” he growls, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Stegosaurus.” Just once you’d like that to not leave your lips in the whiny, desperate tone it does when he asks you that question.

“Good girl,” he praises before the plush headphones cover your ears. All you see is black, all you hear is soft decorative piano music, and all you feel is the warmth of Joel over your buzzing skin. There’s not a single thought in your mind, everything is silent. This is what you need and you start to worry that you’ll become addicted to the way Joel makes you feel everything while thinking nothing.

The warmth of his body disappears from you and you whimper at the loss. Your eyes clench closed as if that will help you be able to find him. A thin, pulsing vibrator hits the back of your thigh and you jump. Joel's large hands rubs your opposite hip and every muscle relaxes under his touch. The vibrator pulses softly as he moves it up your thigh, tickling along your hip, and then down the other leg. You can’t hear the sounds that you’re making but you’re sure they’re desperate, needy gasps.

After teasing your arms Joel slips something small and hard between your body and the rope that’s been torturously teasing at your clit before you feel him pull away. You adjust so your forehead is resting on the mattress before it dips with the weight of him sitting beside your head. His warm fingers wrap around your neck and he kneads the muscles.

“Mmmm, thank you Mister Miller,” you hum.

Whatever Joel slipped against your clit comes to life, a dull vibration that is sure to be your undoing has you attempting to arch your back, but you can’t move. Your breathing quickens, short little puffs of air passing your lips.

“I’m gonna come,” you murmur quietly, or at least you think it’s quiet since you can’t hear yourself or anything else. Joel’s strong fingers continue the delicious swirling patterns up and down the sides of your neck as you begin to shake. “Oh god - I’m so close!”

Just as you’re about to slam head first into another orgasm the vibrating stops and Joel’s fingers disappear from your skin. “No,” and this time you know it wasn’t a whisper or a whimper.

The mattress jostles and then you feel Joel behind you again. A hand comes to one of yours, coaxing it out of the fist you’ve apparently clenched before doing the same to the other. The vibrating starts stronger this time and both his hands come to yours, his thumbs massaging at your palms. It doesn’t take long this time before you’re right on that edge again.

“Fuck, Mister Miller. Puh-please don’t stop!” Your legs start the familiar shake that happens right when you’re about to tip over the edge and he doesn’t follow your wishes. The hand massage stops, quickly followed by the vibrator being switched off. You groan in frustration and he lays a quick, sharp spank over your legging clad right ass cheek. “Hnnng - sorry.”

You can’t be certain, but based on the warm puffs hitting your core you’re pretty sure he’s knelt down behind you. The vibrator comes to life again, stronger than the last two times and his hands work at massaging the muscles along the back of your thighs. This is torture; wonderful euphoric torture and as much as you want it end, you also don’t ever want him to stop making you feel this way.

You let your eyes flutter open behind the blindfold, it’s still just as dark but you see that little pink sparkly box. The one that’s overflowing with emotion for Joel. You should push it back into the shadows or light it on fire, but instead you let it come out of the shadows completely. You see your hands reaching for the lid just as the white hot pleasure in your core gets close to the breaking point.

“Please please…Mister Miller - fuck!” You whimper and whine as it begins to burn hotter and then it’s gone and it feels like the air is being sucked forcefully out of your lungs.

“Nonono, I can’t. Please, I need you..” Joel's large body is across your back in a second. The hard bulge in pants pressing against your ass and the memory of how good he felt and tasted in your mouth the last time has saliva pooling under your tongue. You swallow hard as one of the padded ear pieces is lifted from your ear.

Joel’s voice is deep and gruff as he says, “What do you need, my sweet girl?”

The little box of feelings vibrates at him calling you his and you kick it back into the shadows. “I need to come, Mister Miller.”

“That right? How bad?” He says teasingly before placing a feather light kiss on that sensitive spot right below your ear.

“So bad. Please, it hurts, Mister Miller.” You are pouting into the fluffy sheets, a completely whiny mess, and you realize that you’re always a mess for him. Be it a horny or depraved one, a whiny or a pouty one, he doesn’t care and if anything you think he likes it that way, likes you that way. “I want to hear you. I miss your dirty talk, please, baby!”

“Fuck,” he breathes. “I should spank you until you can’t sit tomorrow for calling me anything but Mister Miller. You know that, right?”

“I can’t think straight. I’m sorry, just please. Please!”

He whips the headphones off of you and the vibrator hits at an intensity you have never felt before. Your pornographic scream fills the room. His large body above yours intensifies everything that was already killing you.

“That what you need, huh?”

You cry out and try to say yes but you’re sure it’s all just an incoherent mix of sounds at this point.

“God damn, baby girl. You should see yourself right now. All tied up in knots that I made. The way your leggings hug the curves of your hips and soft, creamy thighs. You’re going to be the death of me one day.”

Tears start to flow behind your blindfold as the pleasure almost becomes too much, you haven’t come yet, and at this point you aren’t sure if you’ll survive it if you do. You have half a mind to ask Joel if an orgasm can physically split you in two because that is how you feel right now.

“I’m - oh god - I’m…” You try to form the words but you can’t.

One of Joel’s hands slips between his front and your tied up arms, his hand wrapping tightly around yours. His lips come to your ear as whispers. “I got you, sweet girl, just let go for me.”

“Need to see you,” you say between gasps of air and the pleasure begins to burn in your.

Joel peels the blind fold off. You blink him into focus, his warm eyes searching your face. “Let go, you’re ok.”

As per usual, it’s his words that seem to be that final push and you let your orgasm consume you. It starts as a cold spark, a shiver up your spine and then heat flushes through every since cell in your body. You moan and writhe beneath Joel who whispers your praises like a prayer. Talking you through the intensity of the feeling. Your pussy clenches around nothing and you’re sure your panties, leggings and the rope are ruined.

“I can’t!” You gasp and Joel slows the vibration to help you ride out the decresendo of your orgasm. As the jolts of your body slow, he follows suit; the vibrator going to a dull blip and eventually nothing. Joel's thumb traces soothing patterns on the hand he’s still holding between your bodies. You take a deep and shaky breath, trying to calm your racing heart.

“Are you ok, angel?” he asks quietly and goosebumps somehow spread along your too hot body.

“Better than ok,” you say with a small smile.

Joel’s lips meet yours, soft and pliant and so full of passion. Your eyes shut as you part your lips for him and when your tongue strokes gently against his he lets out a small whimper that causes your pulse to leap. Mentally, you grab a bigger box, stuffing it with the realization that you’re falling for this man. But you will deal with that later, right now you just need to let yourself have something that is for, well… yourself.

Joel

He breaks the kiss, even though he doesn’t want to. Even though he knows that by breaking this kiss it’s only going to mean you going home sooner. “I need to get you out of these ropes and get some sugar into you.”

The two of you sit in a comfortable silence as his nimble fingers work to undo your restraints, then the intricate knots that bind your arms, and lastly the bodysuit. He really did think you looked stunning all tied up. He didn’t plan for this night to go the way it did, but when he saw the slight flush of your cheeks and the way your eyes glazed over he couldn’t resist giving you what he knew you needed. He stays close, one hand protectively on your hip as you crawl onto the bed. Once he has you seated, he pulls a fuzzy grey blanket out from a basket beside the night stand and then opens the small fridge to grab you an orange juice and water.

He cracks the top of the orange juice. “Drink this for me, please.”

He watches your eyes do a quick half roll but you don’t fight him, fingers just barely grazing his as you take the juice from him. “I had fun tonight,” you say between sips as he walks to grab the coconut oil.

Joel stands beside you. “So did I, sweetheart. Arm, please.”

You take the orange juice in your left hand and give him your right. Both of you watch as he puts oil on the few pink marks the ropes left behind. “Do you think I should change my safeword?”

He lifts one eyebrow at you and as he tends to your other arm says, “Why do you ask that.”

“I don’t know. It’s just…well, originally that little dinosaur on your coffee maker seemed so out of place. It intrigued me. Your home is beautiful, but the parts you let people see don’t give away any hints about you, except for that little dinosaur. But now that I know the whole story, it just seems too special of an item to be tied to what we do.”

“I don’t think we need to change it. You’re right, that little stegosaurus is special to me.” He sits sideways on the bed, grabbing the empty orange juice container and handing you the water. His jaw flexes once before he continues, “But so are you. I love that you felt a connection to that part of me. Ultimately, it’s your safe word, sweet girl, so you can make it anything you want, but I think it’s perfect for us.”

The soft look in your eyes as he speaks is almost enough to kill him, and when your lips twitch up ever so slightly at his words he knows he’s done for. He shouldn’t fall for you, especially since he’s sure there’s no way you’d ever feel the same way, but he can’t not fall for you.

Your name passes his lips with a nervous tremble, because he knows that what he’s about to say next is going to be his undoing. If you say yes to this next thing, if he continues spending actual time with you, he’s done.

“Ya?” you say before sucking your bottom lip through your teeth.

“Friday night is the five year anniversary party for the club. It’s a black tie event for all the VIP guests. Would you like to accompany me?”

He watches as your eyes land on your lap, your lips pressing together as if to suppress a smile. When your gaze floats back up to his, your eyes give you away. Try as you might to hide your expressions with him; he'll always know when you’re happy based on the glitter of your eyes.

“I’d really like that, Mister Miller.”

His forehead meets yours. “This might be a Sweet Cheeks moment.”

Thank you soooo much for reading! Remember to follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates for future chapters xo.

Next Chapter

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deliciousangelfestival · 3 months ago

Text

The Imperfect Couple - 1 | Bucky

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 ,Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 , Chapter 11 , Chapter 12 , Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

You were exhausted. Having just returned from covering another incident, you were familiar with the grueling reality of being a journalist in a foreign country.

Limited access compared to local reporters made the job even more challenging. Despite your fatigue, this was the career you had chosen and loved.

When you arrived at your apartment, you noticed a woman waiting for you. She was shorter and bustier than you, with curly, short red hair. The woman approached you with a confident stride.

“Hello. My name is Natasha,” she introduced herself, handing you a business card.

You glanced at the card, noting her affiliation with the Secret Service.

Is this for real?

“Yes. How may I help you?” You asked, confusion evident in your voice as you fumbled with your keys at the doorknob.

“I’m here to bring you back home,” Natasha replied.

“Why?” you asked, still trying to process why a Secret Service agent would be looking for you.

“Because your husband is looking for you,” Natasha said.

You froze, your mind struggling to make sense of what you had just heard. Turning slowly, you looked at Natasha, your face betraying a hint of incredulous amusement. “I’m sorry? You must be mistaken. I’ve been divorced for years.”

“Yes, I know the story,” Natasha said, her tone steady.

“Goodbye then,” you said quickly, attempting to close the door. The mention of your ex-husband was something you had left behind, and you wanted nothing to do with it.

“The divorce was never finalized,” Natasha said firmly.

“What?” you exclaimed, your eyes widening in disbelief. You had signed the documents, or so you thought. You swung the door open wide and saw two more men standing beside Natasha, their presence making it clear you were outnumbered—three to one.

“Seems like you’ve come to understand the situation,” Natasha said. “I’ll explain everything, but for now, you need to follow me.”

What she meant by following her quickly became apparent as the men gently but firmly guided you toward a car.

Inside, you hoped Natasha would provide answers, but she continued making calls, leaving you in a state of growing frustration.

Upon arriving at the airport, you realized it was not a regular one but a private jet facility.

“Let’s go,” Natasha said, gesturing toward the plane’s stairs.

As you climbed aboard, you noticed Natasha following closely behind. An air steward offered you a tray with a cup of jasmine tea. You took a sip, the delicate aroma providing a brief moment of comfort.

“Let me guess, this is his plane?” you asked, your tone tinged with suspicion.

“Yes,” Natasha nodded.

As the plane took off, the tension in the cabin was palpable.

“You still haven’t said a word,” you remarked, trying to break the silence.

“Because of the timing and for precautions,” Natasha said, her expression serious. “You won’t like what I’m going to say.”

“Tell me something I don’t hate more. You know how much I despise my ex-husband and his family,” you snapped, the bitterness clear in your voice. The memories of their interference and disdain for your background still stung deeply.

“Your husband is going to be the candidate for Vice President,” Natasha said, her voice steady despite the gravity of the news.

“...What?” you replied, your voice barely a whisper as you processed the information.

Natasha didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she pulled out a tablet and handed it to you. On the screen, you saw a video of your ex-husband. He stood proudly in a suit, smiling and raising his arms as the crowd erupted in cheers.

The title beneath the video read, “James Barnes: The Youngest Candidate for Vice President.”

You gasped, your disbelief palpable. “This is a joke.”

“Hundreds of supporters don’t think it’s a joke, ma’am,” Natasha replied, her tone matter-of-fact.

“And the reason I’m here is because he needs you,” she continued.

You clenched your fists in anger. The reason for your resentment was clear: his ambition and his family’s obsessive involvement in politics. Their relentless meddling had been one of the key reasons for your separation.

“Turn this plane around,” you demanded, your voice strained. You didn’t understand why, but exhaustion was overtaking you, and your eyes felt heavy.

Natasha glanced at her watch, a hint of sympathy in her gaze. “You must be feeling sleepy.”

You widened your eyes and looked at the tea cup, realizing its effects. You shot Natasha a glare, frustration mixing with fatigue.

“I’m just doing my job, ma’am,” Natasha said, accepting a blanket from the air stewardess.

You wanted to protest, but the energy drained from you. As your vision dimmed, you felt a wave of drowsiness. You closed your eyes and succumbed to sleep.

Natasha watched you as you fell asleep, then carefully draped the blanket over you. She turned to her colleagues with a resolute expression. “Tell him to pick up his wife.”

✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️

You slowly regained consciousness, your head feeling heavy and foggy. As you blinked open your eyes, the reality of your surroundings became clear: you were still on the airplane, but it had stopped moving. The plane had arrived, and you were still groggy from the drugs.

“Welcome home,” a familiar voice said.

You widened your eyes, trying to focus on the figure before you. There, standing with a knowing smile, was your ex-husband, Bucky.

His smile seemed almost out of place given the situation, and you found it impossible to return it. You struggled to sit up, your limbs feeling leaden.

“Of course,” you said, your voice thick with sarcasm. “The last thing I needed was to wake up and see your smug face.”

Bucky’s expression remained impassive. “Careful now. You wouldn’t want to offend the future Vice President.”

“Future Vice President, huh?” you shot back, your irritation flaring. “Is that why you dragged me back here? You need a trophy wife to complete your perfect image?”

“You’re not just a trophy wife,” Bucky said, his tone dripping with condescension. “You’re a crucial part of my public image. A divorce would be a PR disaster.”

“Is that right?” you snapped. “You’re using me as a prop, aren’t you? You couldn’t just leave me alone. Some of us have lives outside your political games.”

“You think this is bad?” Bucky said, frustration seeping into his voice. “Imagine what would happen if the public found out about our separation. It’s all about maintaining appearances.”

“You’re still the same,” you said, your anger flaring.

Bucky’s expression hardened. “Let’s be honest here. You wouldn’t have left if you didn’t think I was using you. But if you think this is a game, you’re wrong. I need you to play along until the election.”

“And if I refuse?” you challenged.

“One year,” Bucky said, his gaze steady. “Until the election is over. Then I’ll give you anything you want. Just play the part of a happy wife until then.”

You knew why he needed you. His political career depended on maintaining a perfect public image. Only a few people were aware of your separation, so you had to pretend to be a happy married couple to avoid public scrutiny.

As you struggled to stand, Bucky stepped forward to help you. His touch was steady but impersonal. Both of you exited the jet, greeted by a throng of press and cameras. The narrative they were fed was clear: the Vice Presidential candidate picking up his sick wife.

With the press closing in, you turned to Bucky and said, “I see you’ve thought this through. Dragging me back here like a prized possession. What’s next? A public appearance where we hold hands and share a tearful reunion?”

Bucky met your gaze with a calm but resolute expression. “It’s not just about appearances. The election is critical, and I need stability. Having you here will help maintain that.”

“You’re the only one I could turn to. I need you,” he said.

The words “I need you” echoed with the same urgency he once used, the very words that had drawn you to him. But now, they felt hollow.

Bucky’s expression remained unchanged. He had no apologies to offer, and the facade of your ‘happy marriage’ had to remain intact.

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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months ago

Text

Run, Run, Run

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: You have to run

TW: toxic relationship, cheating, attempts at manipulation

You'd always been a runner.

Literally and now figuratively.

You were a sprinter mainly.

Two-hundred metres was your sweet spot but you could compete in one-hundred and four-hundred metres comfortably too.

But two-hundred was what got you interested in athletics, what showed you at your best, the event that made you one of the lucky ones.

One of the ones that didn't need another job.

Brand deals and sponsorships and everything you could have ever dreamed of came flooding in.

You could dedicate your time to just running.

Running, running, running.

Feet pounding on concrete.

Running, running, running.

An Olympic gold had always been in your grasp in your head. It was something you had only dreamed about. An errant pipe dream that you'd told your parents as a kid and they'd done that dismissive kind of agreement that all parents did when their child's hopes and dreams were a once in a lifetime kind of thing.

The 'oh, that's nice, sweetie, now finish your veggies' kind of dismissal.

Running was your lifeblood.

It always had been.

It always will be.

Even as you wait at the airport with your Olympic gold weighing down your bag.

Two bronzes and a gold was a triumph for your first Olympics.

You'd made your mark.

It was meant to be the greatest moment of your life.

The commentators had joked that it looked like something was chasing you, like you you were running from them.

They were kind of right.

You ran like something was after you, getting closer and closer.

It was only when you feel to your knees, the winner of the two-hundred metres, that it caught up.

Sweet, brutal acceptance.

Alexia was cheating on you.

She was sleeping with Jenni again.

You should have known it was going to happen.

You were younger than her, almost ten years younger. Of course, she would want to go back to her ex. Her older, more worldly, more put together ex.

The one that she could relate to more. The one that she had played with for years. The one that she could build a life with.

You had hoped that could have been you.

But clearly not.

Alexia was cheating on you, had been cheating on you since who knows when.

It could have been ever since the beginning. It could have been during the World Cup or just after it. It could have been just at the Olympics.

It didn't matter when it started though.

It happened and now you had to deal with the fall out.

And you were dealing it with the only way you knew how.

By running.

Fleeing the country.

There was a coach in England that was happy to work with you and moving to Manchester truly didn't feel as daunting as it should have.

"Stop calling me," You say," Just...stop..." You're so defeated. So done with this.

You wish you had the strength to just block and delete her number but every time you tried, all you could do was stare at the profile picture.

You in Alexia's arms, her lips pressed against your cheek.

"Baby," Alexia coos, her voice sweet saccharine that goes right through you," Amor...Mi vida-"

"Alexia, don't." You could feel your conviction wavering just by the sound of her voice.

"I don't actually love her," Alexia continues," She was only because I missed you. I want you. You're going to be my wife, remember?"

"Ale...please, don't make this more difficult than it needs to be."

"Mi vida, you're being so silly. Come home. Let's talk."

"No...I-I don't want to."

An edge of tension strung through her voice and you close your eyes tightly.

"Where are you? I'll pick you up. We'll go to dinner and I'll show you how much I love you. What about the baby you wanted? Let's make make a baby, amor."

"Alexia-"

"No," Alexia interrupts," I'm coming to get you. Send me your loc-"

"Attention all passengers, the seven-thirty flight to Manchester, England with British Airways is now inviting our business class passengers to board."

You can hear Alexia suck in a breath. "Are you at the airport?"

You don't respond but you know she can hear movement on your end of the line as you gather up your hastily packed luggage.

"Are you at the airport?!" She asks again.

Again, you don't answer.

"Amor," Her voice goes sweet," Don't get on that flight. Come home to me. Let's talk."

"I'm sorry, Alexia," You say," I wish you the best but I just can't do this."

"Don't-Don't hang up! Don't you dare-"

You turn off your phone as you step onto the plane.

Running has always come easy.

It's not really like you're taking the coward's way out.

You're running to save yourself because Alexia will ruin you if you go back to her.

She will break you apart, wear you down with sweet promises and soft touches.

Then she'll go back to camp and cheat on you again.

You're running to save yourself the heartbreak.

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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jina1028 · 1 month ago

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Beautiful nuisance

Sunghoon x fem!reader

Word count: 11k

Part 2 -> Monday coffee (Park Jisung x fem!reader)

Categories: enemies/rivals to lovers, lowkey possessive Hoon, alcohol consumption (no one gets drunk), dom!Sunghoon, sub!reader, CEO Lee Heeseung, mentions of men being shitty to women, smut (duh), handjob, blowjob, kissing, marking, thigh riding, finger sucking, fingering, cunnilingus, penetrative sex, mirror sex, creampie, barely there anal play (no actual penetration), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, praising, both are whipped, mentions of aftercare, let me know if I missed anything

As always 🔞 MDNI 🔞

A.N. this is my first Sunghoon smut, let me know what you think! English is not my first language, so feel free to correct my spelling and grammar, or suggest anything to make everything sound more natural!

Enjoy 💕

~♡~

In your life there were a few things you could say you were proud of: a nice apartment in one of the wealthy areas of your city, the way you managed yourself between family, friends, self care and career, and indeed your job which you worked and studied hard for years to obtain.

You managed to obtain the important position of commercial manager for one of the most renowned international cosmetic brands. You were really proud of the position you worked hard to reach, and your name even began to gain fame and attention between the rival brands, you had the ability to attract many new clients and offer the most interesting contracts.

You were one of the best in your area.

The other commercial manager who was one of the best was Park Sunghoon.

You initially didn't think much of it, sure he was good at his job, but nothing to be afraid of. Then he started to snatch your potential clients from under your nose.

Park Sunghoon was annoying. He acted cool around men, and he turned into prince charming around women in order to obtain what he wanted.

He was annoying. And handsome.

And the fact that he was handsome was annoying itself because you were afraid it would affect the hate you had for him and his stupid charming eyes, his perfect lips always curving into stupid smiles whenever he was about to steal your potential clients, whenever you had the misfortune to be around him, whenever there was some kind of event in which you tried to do your job and promote your brand to stipulate new contracts.

These next few days were about to be the same old story. Your company sent you to an overseas convention to do just that: find new clients.

And Park Sunghoon was going to be there too.

Your mission started awfully from the airport: Sunghoon had to take the same flight, he spotted you sitting in the waiting area next to your gate and approached you, plopping down beside you with a slight huff.

"Y/N, I thought it was you, I was not mistaken! It's nice to see you again."

"Mr. Park..." you acknowledged him with a nod, your eyes barely lifting from your phone to make the shortest possible eye contact.

He acted taken aback by your coldness "Oh, should I address you with your last name too? Sorry, I thought we were a bit more than acquaintances by now, my bad..."

You didn't reply and turned your attention back to your phone, Sunghoon dropped his attempt at making small talk and just sat there in silence, eventually taking his phone from his leather jacket to pass the time, glancing at you now and then.

Finally the gate opened and you proceeded to board the plane avoiding Sunghoon, just wanting to put some distance between the two of you. You wanted to keep your contempt for him intact, not risking letting his stupid handsome face play tricks on you and letting your guard down. He was your rival and you planned to play all your cards to beat him at his game.

Whatever it takes, I'll win this time.

You sat in your seat and sighed, fixing your purse and getting comfortable, glancing at the passenger about to sit next to you. You had to make a double take, fixing your eyes on Sunghoon, him once again.

He sent you a small tight lipped smile, at which you diverted your gaze to look outside the window, stifling an annoyed groan.

Despite Sunghoon's attempt at being polite during the flight, you tried your best to ignore his presence and proximity, stiffening every time your arms or legs would come in touch, tension rising more and more. At some point you could swear Sunghoon was so tense next to you he stopped breathing for a while, you weren't sure if it was because of the slight turbulence or because of your own tension getting to him.

Eventually he must've been so tired that he fell asleep, his head slightly slipping on the headrest towards you, startling you, ready to tell him to move, until you noticed his eyes were closed and his lips agape, breathing softly.

You couldn't help but awe at his beauty, his long dark lashes fanning on his cheekbones, his plump pink lips parted, his pretty nose with that cute mark on the side and his thick eyebrows furrowing now and then when his dreams would be disturbed by some noise or by a turbulence.

You found your own cheeks warming up, realizing you were staring, eventually diverting your eyes at his signs of waking up, mentally slapping yourself for letting your guard down.

Park Sunghoon was a really beautiful nuisance.

He straightened his posture realizing he slid down towards you, clearing his throat and blinking the sleepiness away.

When the plane landed you hurried to go and take a taxi to the hotel where you would stay the next three days and where the convention would take place. You would hear Sunghoon politely call your last name to send you off "See you there!" at which you turned your head towards him waving a hand, deciding that being rude would be no use. It wasn't even in your character to be honest, Park Sunghoon wasn't worthy of you acting differently than your usual self, right?

Wrong. You would see that soon.

The night passed smoothly, you fell asleep as soon as you touched the bed. You couldn't even remember what you dreamt of when you woke up, but you had the feeling of deep brown eyes looking at you in your dream, soft lips on your skin and big, strong hands between your legs, leaving you flustered and with an annoying wet spot on your panties.

Damn, guess I need to get laid, it's been too long.

You had no time to think about your lack of a love or sex life, this morning you had to give your best.

You knew at the convention would be present the CEO in person of an important modeling and acting agency. Getting his attention would mean your company would benefit from working with many famous people and so being able to advertise your products with the faces and charisma of said models and actors, gaining more attention from the general public and selling more.

The fact that the CEO was young and good looking would hopefully make your mission easier. If Park Sunghoon used his beauty and charm to lure new clients towards him, you would try and play his own game this time.

You weren't used to utilizing those kinds of weapons to obtain what you wanted, but this was the most important opportunity in your entire career, you would do all it took.

And with that determination in mind you spotted Lee Heeseung, the famous CEO, in the well illuminated, spacious hall of the convention and approached him sporting the most attractive smile you could muster up, politely greeting him and introducing yourself and your company, asking for him to let you offer a drink and take a bit of his precious time to talk about some interesting offers.

He focused on you and you noticed how elegant and charming he looked, with his soft eyes and bright smile.

"Well, it would be a pleasure to be entertained by the company of a charming woman like you, just let me pay for both our drinks, will you?" Heeseung eyed you up and down, resting his hand behind your shoulder and guiding you to the bar.

Sunghoon watched the scene unfold from afar, furrowing his eyebrows and glaring at the man who was still casually resting his hand on your arm while you explained the plans of your company.

Oh, she doesn't know what she's gotten herself into, does she?

Sunghoon patiently watched as you tried to make Lee Heeseung pay attention, noticing how his eyes would occasionally land on your lips or lower, until he finally decided to approach the two of you.

"Your offers seem really interesting but we'll have to carefully consider all the pros and cons for both of us before I agree to anything... How about we continue this conversation elsewhere? I need a quieter place, let's have dinner in my suite tonight so we don't have to worry about others hearing our conversation."

Were you hearing right? Lee Heeseung inviting you to his suite to have dinner and talk... You weren't that naive, but you wondered if you wanted to take that path in order to obtain his favor.

Your voice caught in your throat as you tried to extricate yourself from this situation, feeling Heeseung's eyes scanning your face in search for a positive reaction.

"Lee Heeseung, am I right?" a deep, charming voice saved you from a panic attack "Park Sunghoon, nice to meet you."

Sunghoon introduced himself and his company, grabbing a stool and placing it between you and Heeseung.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I? Let's drink something together!" Sunghoon gestured for the bartender to come and he ordered his drink.

Heeseung glared at him but in a blink of an eye he was smiling, shaking Sunghoon's hand and making space for him to sit more comfortably between you two.

His intrusion allowed you to release the breath you were holding and get your gears to start turning properly in your head.

You took a long sip from your drink, making up your mind.

"Mr. Lee" you called for his attention again, "I have to decline tonight, but let me invite you to the spa tomorrow. I've heard about a nice jacuzzi, let's relax together for a bit then we could talk again about my offer, alright?"

"I see..." Heeseung pondered his options for a moment observing you, before clapping his hands together and agreeing to your plan.

You shot a quick glance at Sunghoon, his features stiff, jaw clenched while swallowing a sip from his glass.

You smirked to yourself, whatever Sunghoon's plan was, you apparently managed to ruin it.

You took one last sip from your glass and got up from your stool, excusing yourself.

"Let's meet here at 9 p.m. Goodnight!" you smiled in Heeseung's direction and walked away, missing the way he kept looking at your back as you gradually disappeared in the sea of people.

Sunghoon cleared his throat, and Heeseung shifted his attention to him "do you know her?"

Sunghoon hummed affirmatively.

"Is she... you know... open to different types of negotiation?" Heeseung inquired.

Sunghoon clenched his jaw once again, taking another sip from his glass.

"Not that I know of, I don't think she's the type" he replied coldly.

"Oh, we'll see, you never know... Right?" Heeseung patted Sunghoon's back with a wide smile, earning a little fake chuckle from Sunghoon.

"Just be careful not to get your hopes too high" Sunghoon stood up and excused himself as well, leaving Heeseung to think about what he meant.

The next day you spent most of the morning and early afternoon promoting the new line just launched by your brand and signing a couple of contracts with new clients. You managed to eat a few snacks from the bar, knowing you wouldn't have much time to have a proper dinner.

You noticed Sunghoon casually wandering around your area, occasionally talking to potential clients, and sometimes looking in your direction as if to check on you.

You thought it was just so he kept track of the people you were talking to so he could steal them from you later, but something about his gaze was different than usual.

Sunghoon would usually look at you with smug eyes, smirking and chuckling to himself. But right now his eyes were dark, almost frowning and his lips curved downwards, slightly pouting. He would keep eye contact, eventually making you flustered and look away from his deep eyes.

What's wrong with him...

As you walked to the elevators, going to your room to get ready for the spa, Sunghoon approached you, expression unreadable, leaning in to murmur in your ear "Be careful with Lee Heeseung."

You stiffened at his closeness and his enigmatic words, but as soon as those words left his lips he withdrew, people approaching to take the elevator with you. And like that you missed the chance to get a proper explanation from Sunghoon. You told yourself that he was just trying to play his tricks on you, in order to make you lose the opportunity with Lee Heeseung and take advantage of the situation. But something was off with Sunghoon, he looked too serious for it to be a bluff, you were starting to doubt everything at this point.

When you got back downstairs, you found Heeseung waiting for you at the bar, this time dressed more casually. He greeted you with a pretty smile, getting up to follow you to the spa where you reserved the jacuzzi the previous day, then going separate ways to the changing rooms.

You checked yourself in the mirror, wondering if you were daring too much, stripping yourself in a skimpy bikini, isolating yourself in a small jacuzzi with a man you barely knew, who looked like he was waiting for the perfect opportunity to have you for himself, and possibly drinking some alcohol in the meantime.

But that's what you planned once you made up your mind after your first encounter with Heeseung, to obtain his favor with the help of some alcohol and the promise of sex, right? After all you were adult and single, so why not use sex as a way to reach your goals once in a while? That didn't mean you were actually having sex after all, what if you just used it as bait to lure horny men into signing a few contracts?

You wrapped your hips in a towel before exiting the changing rooms, scanning the area and spotting Heeseung already sitting in the hot tub in a corner of the large pool area. The small tub was kind of isolated, hidden from most eyes by some plants and foliage, the lights in that corner were a bit dim, making it look more private and somewhat sensual.

You approached the hot tub, noticing how Heeseung's eyes traveled up and down your body, a small smirk creeping up on his lips.

You felt an uneasy sensation in your guts but decided to shake it away, you wouldn't cower back from your plan right now, so you finally sank in the hot bubbly water in front of Heeseung, letting the temperature relax your stiff muscles.

Heeseung wasted no time and scooted closer to you "it's so nice here, at this hour there's barely anyone around, we can relax undisturbed..." He spread his arms and legs, grazing your own, resting his head on the edge of the tub, turning to look at you from under his lashes.

"Yeah and look at the view, what floor is this, like 25th? Look at the city lights!", you were genuinely amazed, the proximity of the hot tub to one of the large glass panels provided a great view of the city underneath you.

Heeseung glanced outside for a moment "It's beautiful... But honestly I'm more interested in you", he grazed his fingers on your thigh under the hot water, shortening the distance between your faces, lowering his voice "I bet you have a lot to offer, I'm really curious."

Your breath caught in your throat and you instinctively stiffened and closed your legs before his hand could travel further up your thighs. Your plan was threatening to get out of your control.

Heeseung noticed your reluctance, an annoyed sigh slipping out his nose, lips tight, but he quickly turned his lips into a gentle smile "what if I go and grab something to drink, I think you need to loosen up a bit."

He got up without waiting for you to agree and climbed out of the hot tub, reaching for his room card in his bag.

You called for him to wait, getting up and taking your card from your own bag "wait, put it on my room, you paid last time!", Heeseung declined with a smile and left you to go to the bar on the floor below.

You just put your room card beside your bag next to the tub and sank back down, trying to clear up your mind. You didn't really want to sell your body, you just wanted to seduce Heeseung in order for him to let his guard down and agree to your business offer. But he seemed adamant in not signing anything before getting between your legs. You couldn't see a way out of this without your company losing one of the best opportunities that ever happened to it, or you letting Heeseung do whatever he wanted to you.

The sound of footsteps brought your thoughts back to the present, making you lift your eyes on a tall figure approaching.

"Sunghoon, what are you doing here?" surprise and annoyance both transpiring from your voice.

"Hello to you, Y/N", he greeted you in response, "just wanted to see for myself if the jacuzzi up here is as nice as they say."

He stripped out of his bathrobe, placing it next to your bag, while you couldn't help but stare at his toned back and shoulders hoping he wouldn't notice. You diverted your eyes just in time as he turned to climb up the stairs and into the hot water of the tub, sitting in front of you.

"Heeseung will be here soon, what do you really want? Are you trying to make him hate me by hanging out with me every time we try to be alone? I think he's gonna hate you more though, he's not gonna sign with you..." you spat out, tired of Sunghoon's antics.

He just shrugged, resting his elbows on the edge of the tub, a plain expression on his face "I don't care."

"What?" you scoffed.

"I don't care, I have something else on my mind right now."

You were about to inquire more about it but you saw Heeseung approaching from the corner of your eye. He paused for a moment when he saw Sunghoon, who waved greeting him with a wide smile, fangs on display "Heeseung! We can talk casually, right? Sorry for intruding, I like to swim at night so I came here and noticed Y/N. She seemed lonely so I joined her..."

Heeseung kept his composure and handed your drink to you, keeping one for himself and taking a sip "if I knew you would've joined us I would've bought one more drink for you... Here, take my card and go grab something, it's on me."

"Oh I can pay for myself, thanks. I'll be right back..." Sunghoon started getting up but you pushed a hand on his shoulder, taking him by surprise and making him sink back down.

"You know what, I need to stretch my legs a bit, just give me your card and I'll get your drink for you", you smiled stiffly, just wanting to escape from both men even just for a few minutes.

Sunghoon quirked an eyebrow, eventually taking his room card from his bathrobe "a gin-tonic, I like it sweet. Thanks" he locked his eyes with yours, handing you his card.

You quickly took it from between his joined index and middle fingers and scurried away from both men, adjusting your towel around your torso to make yourself presentable enough for the bar downstairs.

As soon as you exited the pool area Heeseung dropped his smile, sitting opposite Sunghoon.

"What are you doing? Why do you keep intruding? Do you just want me to sign with your company? Or is it because of her?"

Sunghoon looked at Heeseung coldly "I just don't want her to hurt herself, she's my best rival and I don't want to lose her like this. I just want her to regain her reason before she does something she'll regret later."

Heeseung scoffed "what are you, her dad? She's an adult woman and she can decide for herself."

Wait, he's got a point... Am I being... Selfish? Am I lying to myself about the reason?

"Yeah she can, but I know how you treat women and she doesn't..."

"Watch your mouth" Heeseung glared at the man in front of him, "you don't want to accuse me of things you don't even know..."

Sunghoon brought up his hands in mock defeat "I'm just informing you of the rumors about you, I just wouldn't engage with you if I were Y/N."

"Whatever the rumors are about me, they're false."

Sunghoon interrupted him, bringing up a hand "I don't know if they're true or false, I just want you to stay away from Y/N, the reason is not important.”

Heeseung chuckled, sipping from his glass "straightforward, are we... Why should I care about what you want?"

Sunghoon gathered all his courage, knowing he could risk it all against a powerful man like Lee Heeseung, CEO of one of the most rich and influential modeling and acting agencies.

"I don't know, said rumors could start spreading around... What if they reach the wrong ears?" Sunghoon noticed the bitter expression on Heeseung's face and added "look, I don't really know the truth, but I'd like to keep my friend safe, so the least I could do is warn her."

He firmly kept eye contact despite Heeseung's menacing stare. Just when Sunghoon felt a shiver run down his spine, despite the hot temperature of the water, the automatic doors slid open and you unknowingly came to his rescue with his drink in hand, easing a bit of his tension.

You reached the hot tub "thanks, Y/N" Sunghoon grazed your fingers while taking his drink and room card, tossing it next to his bathrobe.

"No problem" you climbed back into the tub, feeling two pairs of eyes on you, not to mention the tension you could cut with a knife.

Something happened while I was gone.

You sat down, grabbing the drink you left unattended and finally taking a few sips, switching your eyes between the two men in front of you.

You suddenly felt extremely conscious of the situation you were in: half naked, with two equally naked, attractive men, sipping alcohol, in a very hot, very tight tub. The tension between these two men was palpable, even if you weren't fully aware of the reason why, but maybe your lack of sexual life, maybe the temperature, maybe the alcohol or everything together made you hot and bothered.

You felt blood rushing to your face and ears and pressed your thighs together trying to relieve some tension, obtaining the opposite result. You caught yourself staring at Sunghoon's broad shoulders, your bottom lip between your teeth, just in time before he turned your attention to you "how about we listen to some music, I feel like it's suddenly too quiet" he chuckled, taking his phone and opening a random playlist on shuffle, soon the notes of a song you recognized as 505 by Arctic Monkeys starting to play.

You closed your eyes, listening to the guitar and the lyrics, sipping your drink, and your feet started tapping to the rhythm without you noticing.

You found yourself slightly swaying to the music, your mind randomly going back to Sunghoon, showing you flashbacks of the moment he slid out of his bathrobe, the way his muscles flexed while he lowered himself in the warm water, the way his shorts clung to his toned body when he got up to give you his card, the damp strands of hair falling on his thick eyebrows on one side, showing his forehead, his deep eyes and plump lips, curving into a smile and revealing his teeth and cute fangs...

Then Sunghoon accidentally brushed his foot on yours, making you yelp in surprise, startling the two men.

"Sorry, did I hurt y-"

"I gotta go!" you interrupted Sunghoon's apology, shooting up from your seat, hoping the music masked the low moan that escaped your lips just before the little incident.

You quickly made your way out of the hot tub, grabbing your towel, bag and room card before fleeing to the changing room.

You took the quickest shower you ever took, barely dried yourself up, getting dressed in a minute and almost running to the elevator, hastily pressing your floor number.

When the doors opened to your floor you hurriedly walked to your room and held your card against the lock, wanting nothing more than to go to bed and erase your inappropriate thoughts about Sunghoon.

Though your door didn't unlock.

You tried and tried again to no avail, blowing your cheeks out, already thinking of going to the reception and asking for help.

You were trying one last time, failing yet again and throwing a kick at the door, when you heard footsteps turning around the corner in your direction. When you turned around you were met with the sight of Sunghoon walking straight to you, his damp unstyled hair falling on his eyebrows, dressed in simple gray jeans and a black graphic tee. You barely recognized him, as you were used to his more elegant work outfits. Your dumbstruck expression tugged an amused smirk on his lips.

"What are you doing out here in the hallway kicking that poor door?"

"W-what are you doing here?"

"Came to the rescue" Sunghoon winked at you, closing the distance between your bodies. You leaned against the door, looking up at him, heat creeping up to your cheeks because of the close proximity.

Sunghoon lightly rested his hand on the middle of your back, barely touching you, yet the feeling of his fingers hovering on your clothed skin made you arch your back, allowing him to slip his other hand behind you, unlocking the door with your badge.

“You're lucky these cards have the room number on it, or you would've slept outside if I couldn't find you.” Sunghoon teased you.

You regained a bit of your composure and slid your hands behind your back to pull the door handle, still facing Sunghoon, the gesture creating contact, your chest slightly pressing into his in order for you to make room for your arms behind you.

"Thanks..." your voice came out feeble.

"Anytime..."

You pushed the door and started walking backwards into your room, dropping your bag on the floor, silently hoping for him to follow you inside.

Sunghoon chased the warmth of your body as you did so, but stopped on the doorway leaning against it, sighing as he restrained himself, not wanting to invade the privacy of your room without permission.

You took note of this gesture, he may seem smug and annoying because of your rivalry, but right now your heart throbbed at how sweet you thought he was, holding back waiting for your invite, almost gentlemanly.

"You wanna come?"

Sunghoon's eyes sparkled and widened in surprise, yet he found himself stepping inside your room and closing the door behind him without a second thought, dropping his own bag next to yours.

Suddenly you felt shy, you weren't used to this kind of situation, inviting a man in your room, let alone your annoying (and oh so handsome) rival Park Sunghoon. What if he thought you were easy? What if he was gonna use this situation against you in the future?

"Y/N", Sunghoon's voice calling your name brought you back to the present "I have a confession."

He what now?

You listened carefully, not sure about the direction this encounter was taking.

"I admire you.”

You held your breath.

“This may sound strange but as a woman it must be difficult for you to be this successful. Don't get me wrong, I don't think men are better than women, at all! I mean in this world it's difficult for women to be respected and valued, so I think you're really strong and smart for not letting anyone get in your way. That's why I admire you."

Hearing those words made you feel a pang of guilt, you were about to throw away your work ethic for Lee Heeseung, and the possibility of losing Sunghoon's respect strangely hurt more than you expected. Losing his respect would automatically mean losing as a rival, and that was the last thing you wanted.

You sat on the foot of the bed, letting his words sink in, as Sunghoon took a seat on the padded desk chair, spinning it to face you.

"Y/N, look at me" his voice was strong and gentle at the same time, and you did as he requested, meeting his eyes as he rested his forearms on his knees to lower himself to the same eye level.

"I often couldn't beat you even using my charms with women..." he briefly paused. "Just because I tried that way doesn't mean you have to do the same. You don't need it."

You felt your heart throbbing from his words and his intense stare.

"I know what you tried to do with Lee Heeseung. And I tried my best to interfere. Honestly I'm not sure why I did it. Maybe for multiple reasons... I was scared to lose respect for my rival, the one who motivates me to work harder, I was selfish..."

Sunghoon lowered his gaze, then continued "I've also heard rumors about how Lee Heeseung treats women, he blackmailed many of them, some lost their jobs or maybe worse..."

You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat at the thought of having your life ruined like that.

"The third reason why I didn't want you to be with Heeseung is because I like you." he lifted his gaze to look deep into your eyes and you felt like you couldn't escape the fire deep inside of his dark ones.

"I want you to be mine, no one else's."

You shifted on the bed, biting your lower lip, Sunghoon's intense eyes fixating on your mouth as he got up from the chair. He reached for your cheek, stroking it with his thumb.

You stayed silent once again, so affected by his words and presence that you seemed like you lost your voice.

"That's all I wanted to tell you... See you tomorrow, Y/N..."

You panicked, already missing his touch on your skin "Wait!" you almost shouted.

Sunghoon halted while straightening himself as you continued "stay a little bit..."

You felt blood rushing to your face at your own words, you'd never been so straightforward in such a situation, Sunghoon was really capable of making you act like a different person.

He hesitated, biting his own lips, unsure of how to refuse your invite "we both drank alcohol, don't make me stay... I don't think I'll be able to hold back for long..."

His words only made you want him more "I'm fine, I barely drank half of my glass... Don't you wanna hear what I have to say?" you insisted.

Sunghoon sighed, a hand flying to his forehead to stroke his dark locks back, only for them to fall back into place on his forehead.

"Please..." you begged.

He sat back down on the chair in front of you.

"Alright…" he furrowed his brows deep in thought as he watched your expression go from troubled to relieved, excited?

Looking back to the past, he always had the feeling there was sexual tension between the two of you, but neither ever acted on it, your rivalry prevailing in your "relationship". But now you seemed to be warming up, maybe his words softened your heart. Or maybe your heart was always warm and soft and you just decided to let him in now.

Either way Sunghoon wanted to see how far you would go now that your true feelings started showing, but he didn't want to push you and scare you back away.

He leaned back on the chair and spread his legs, observing you and waiting for your next move.

You looked at him with warm cheeks, fidgeting with your hands on your lap, unsure of what you really wanted to say.

"Thank you for your support... I don't know what got into me wanting to try and let someone use me like that, just to obtain his favor. It wasn't my smartest move... I guess I was lucky you were always obnoxiously lurking around me all the time these days" you chuckled, thinking about the way you found his intrusions annoying, while the truth was that he held you back from doing something deeply regrettable.

"Yeah, sorry about that, I think you started hating me a little more these days." Sunghoon's comment was lighthearted but hid a bit of a concern underneath.

"Nah... I still hate you a normal amount" you replied, making him arch his eyebrows in surprise at your response.

You giggled at his expression, "to be honest I never hated you, I just pretended and convinced myself 'cause I knew I would fall for you if I let my guard down... Couldn't risk that and let you win so easily. That would destroy my pride.”

Sunghoon listened carefully, a question popping in his mind at your words "And now? Will you let your guard down?"

"Now I wanna let you do whatever you want, just for tonight", you were tired of acting like you weren't attracted to him, you deceived yourself for too long.

"Whatever I want?" Sunghoon let out a short chuckle, licking and biting his lower lip as he thought about what that meant.

"Hmm, there's so many things I fantasized about thinking about you, what do I do..." he hummed to himself, almost whining at his own uncertainty, pondering the many possibilities.

You stayed silent, wondering if Sunghoon ever touched himself thinking of you and how he would look doing so.

You looked at his torn expression trying to make up his mind, admiring his harmonious features, when he finally looked up at you with resolution in his eyes.

He leaned back on the chair and patted his thigh with one of his big hands "come and sit here" his voice firm and demanding, dark, penetrating eyes diving into yours.

You quickly obeyed and got up from the bed, making your way in front of Sunghoon as he spread his legs and reached his hands on your hips, guiding you to straddle his right thigh as you lowered yourself on it, your gray pleated skirt riding up your thighs in the process.

The warmth of his firm hands seeped through your clothes, and as soon as you sat on his thigh you slightly hissed at the warmth and pressure, your hands timidly reaching for his shoulders in search of support. You lodged your right knee right against his groin as you fixed your position, earning a barely audible groan from Sunghoon, who helped you sit comfortably, placing a hand behind your left knee and positioning it on the chair beside him, luckily wide enough for you to not be awkward.

He kept a hand on your hip and brought the other up to your nape, pulling your face towards his, stopping just in time to leave a small gap between your lips.

"This is what I want" his voice barely anything more than a whisper, his warm breath fanning on your lips, luring you in.

"You sure you want it too?" his soft lips now brushed against yours as he spoke.

You experimentally pressed your crotch down on his thigh, clenching your own thighs around his muscles at the sudden wave of pleasure that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Yes" your answer, even though whispered, was loud and clear to Sunghoon's ears, and that's all he needed to press his hand behind your nape and crush your lips together, hungry, raw and fervent, molding them into each other. He swiped his tongue on your lips, slipping it inside your mouth as you gladly accepted him.

Your hands roamed between his shoulders and neck, eventually finding purchase in his thick hair as the kiss got deeper.

A whimper left your mouth as Sunghoon pressed his thigh up into your clothed cunt.

"Ride it" he punctuated his simple order by grabbing your hips and grinding them on his firm thigh, a stuttered sigh escaping your lips at the feeling of your clit rubbing against his muscles, some juices gathering on your panties, eventually creating a damp spot, growing more and more as you started gyrating your hips on his leg by your own.

"Yeah, like that" Sunghoon encouraged you, gripping your hips with both hands, increasing the force and speed of your movements, occasionally making his thigh jump up hitting your clit.

You soon started panting and whimpering, chasing your high, Sunghoon's thigh providing so much pleasure, yet not enough.

At a particularly hard hit of his thigh on your clit you moaned loudly, at which Sunghoon brought a hand from your hips to your mouth, watching you with lust in his eyes as you parted your lips to take his thumb into your salivating mouth.

"Do you want the whole hotel to hear? I'll need to stuff your mouth somehow" he smirked as a muffled moan vibrated through his thumb, your tongue licking and swirling as you sucked on it, hips rocking back and forth as you kept grinding, your clit swelling and arousal seeping through, creating a damp spot on Sunghoon's jeans.

You kept sucking at his thumb, so nicely and lewdly his mind couldn't help but imagine his dick in place of his finger, how much your pretty lips would stretch and how much you would strain your jaw to accommodate his size.

Sunghoon pressed his thumb down on your tongue as he watched you gradually lose yourself in pleasure, enraptured by the sight in front of him, the wet sensation of your tongue and your delicate moans and whines.

Your eyes started to lose focus as you kept riding his thigh, his left hand pressing you down and leg rocking up into you to help you reach your high.

"Keep going, you're doing so good." Sunghoon's breath hitched as he felt your teeth close on the base of his thumb, not hurting him but taking him by surprise, the effort making you clench your jaw until finally your first orgasm crashed on you, your jaw slacking and allowing Sunghoon to take his thumb back and place both his hands on your tired hips to help you ride it out, until you slumped against his chest, chin on the crook of his neck.

He gently pressed a kiss on your neck "you did so good", he cooed at you, stroking a hand on your back to soothe you as you tried to calm your breathing, your pussy still quivering from your climax.

You nuzzled into his neck, inhaling the body wash on his skin, gently pressing your lips and working your mouth on it licking, sucking and biting your way up to his earlobe, gently nibbling on it, eliciting little gasps and groans from the man below you.

Your hands slowly traveled down his chest, feeling and massaging the muscles on your way down to his abs, finally reaching his belt to unbuckle it, fumbling with the button and zipper of his jeans.

When you managed to tug them down a little and slide your hand on his clothed erection you were so surprised at the feeling of his size, gently squeezing your fingers around what you could reach, stroking along the shaft from base to head above his gray boxers.

Sunghoon involuntarily bucked his hips into your hand as he impatiently grasped your wrist to guide you and stroke himself with your hand. A gasp caught in his throat and you felt his dick twitching under your touch, your eyes traveling down his face and torso to take the sight in, spotting a small wet patch where the imprint of his tip was.

Sunghoon noticed how your hungry eyes focused on his dick even though you couldn't properly see it, smirking at your lustful expression "you wanna taste?", his voice sweet and taunting as he stopped your movements, wrapping his fingers on yours and making you press on his tip, twitching one more time.

You wasted no time, getting up from your straddling position on his thigh, to immediately kneel down between the man's spread legs, helping him tug down his jeans and boxers just enough to finally free his swollen cock.

"So eager..." he chuckled, watching your eyes sparkle at the sight of his girthy, veiny shaft resting on his pelvis.

You marveled, observing the veins that adorned it, so pale, the tip was pink and swollen, a bead of precum just above the slit threatening to roll down the length.

Sunghoon bit his lip as he rested his right hand on your head, caressing it and slightly pushing towards him.

You took the hint and let him push you until your lips were close enough to wrap just under the head, massaging the underside with your tongue and lips, suckling on the flush skin while making eye contact with the man above you, who hissed at your teasing, eyebrows forrowed and lips red and swollen from all the kissing and his own biting.

You caught the beam of precum with your tongue as it rolled down, tasting his essence, manly, slightly salty, so good you wanted more, so you started putting more effort into it in order to milk all the precum he could give you before he actually came.

So you wrapped your lips on the tip, sucking and sinking down on it as much as you could, only to come back up and swirl your tongue around the head and suck again, collecting drop after drop, as you helped yourself with your hand, pumping what your mouth couldn't reach.

Sunghoon just looked for a bit, whispering a few compliments between his hisses and groans, his hand still resting on your head, mindlessly massaging your scalp with his fingertips.

"You're so good at this, baby... Wanna cum in your mouth so bad, keep going like that..."

His dirty words egged you on and you felt more arousal wetting your panties as you tried to take Sunghoon deeper, his tip brushing the back of your throat, eliciting a moan from him and causing his fingers to tighten their grip on your scalp.

Sunghoon couldn't help himself anymore and started bucking his hips into your mouth as he kept you steady with his hand on your head. He really tried to be gentle and not to push too far, but as soon as he accidentally pushed a little further down your throat he lost it, the feeling of your muscles clenching around him as you gagged clouding his mind, eventually ending up face fucking you with little to no mercy, only letting you up occasionally to let you breath through your nose, still keeping his dick in your mouth.

You breathed as much as you could, struggling to maintain eye contact, tears rolling down your cheeks (at least you used waterproof mascara, you mentally thanked yourself), before Sunghoon pushed your head down again, purposefully making you gag on his cock.

"This is all mine" he growled, looking between your teary eyes and his shaft disappearing into your wet mouth, drool and precum dribbling down your chin, which Sunghoon collected with his thumb to push back in your abused mouth along with his dick.

"Gonna come in this pretty mouth, you better swallow everything so we don't make a mess, yeah?" he smirked as your moan of approval came out broken by his relentless thrusting, as you braced yourself digging your manicured nails into his waist.

With one last thrust and a deep groan Sunghoon pushed your head against his pelvis, keeping you in place as your throat convulsed around his throbbing dick, thick white spurts of cum painting your throat as it threatened to escape your mouth because of your gagging.

As he came down from his high he retreated a bit in order to let you breathe, still keeping his dick in your mouth, making sure not a single drop of his cum escaped while you calmed down.

Finally Sunghoon slowly withdrew his dick from your mouth, smearing a bit of cum on your lips with his tip while breathing heavily.

"Swallow" he nodded at you.

The order was simple and you did as he said, feeling his thick cum coating your throat and leaving a tingly sensation on your tongue, which you proudly stuck out for him to see.

He smiled at you, caressing your cheek, wiping a tear away "good girl, you did great".

Sunghoon took your chin between his fingers, lifting your face to kiss you.

You didn't expect his tongue to wipe your cum stained lips clean and enter your mouth, tasting the mix of your saliva and his own release, yet you pressed your thighs together as he did so, pure lust taking the best of you as you tangled your tongue with his and your fingers brushed through the dark hair on his nape.

It felt like Sunghoon had casted a spell on you, making you his, completely at his mercy. He made you feel vulnerable and safe, he was dangerous and tender.

Sunghoon held your waist with his free hand, lifting you up on your feet as he kept kissing you and nibbling at your lips and started walking you backwards until your calves hit the fluffy white covers of the bed.

You fell on the mattress with a slight huff, lifting your gaze on Sunghoon who was now stripping with deliberate slowness as you took the sight in, devouring him with your eyes as soon as he lifted his shirt, stretching his arms above his head in the process of removing it. He tossed it on the floor, feigning annoyance, his eyebrows furrowed "why am I the only one getting naked?"

You wasted no time, grasping the hem of your baby blue shirt and lifting it above your head, exposing your lacey lilac bra, a hum of approval vibrating in Sunghoon's throat "so pretty... I bet you're wearing matching panties, let's see.”

You giggled at the accuracy of his guess, lifting from the bed to slowly shimmy out of your skirt, letting it drop to the floor revealing the matching thin, lacey panties you chose to wear tonight.

"Beautiful" Sunghoon bit his lip as he scanned your almost naked body "too bad you didn't plan to wear it for me" he pouted, slowly approaching you, hooking his index finger under the strap on your shoulder, only to pull and let it slap back on your skin, the sudden sting making you yelp.

"Knowing you planned it for someone else makes me kinda jealous, you know..." he lowered his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and exhaling his warm breath on your skin, making you shiver.

"You're the one in my room with me, though..." you then lowered your voice, teasing in his ear "it's your cum I swallowed just now, it tasted so good..." you stroked your way down his stomach to his still exposed cock, which you noticed was starting to stiffen again.

"Good point..." Sunghoon traced the lace of your panties with his fingertips, slightly grazing your swollen clit, at which you bucked your crotch into his hand, still sensitive from your orgasm.

He shot you a wicked smile before pushing you again on the bed, quickly getting rid of his jeans and boxers and crawling on top of you as you moved back up the bed to rest your head on the pillow.

Sunghoon trapped you between his arms, sustaining his weight on your head's sides, and he lowered himself between your legs, resting his pelvis on yours, as his lips caressed your jaw, increasing the intensity of his ministrations the more he traveled down your neck.

He found a sensitive spot, making you mewl louder than you expected, and he attacked it, licking, sucking and biting.

"Gonna-" he sucked on that spot "mark-" and sucked again "this-" he nibbled "pretty neck" he bit hard, his pointy fangs almost piercing your skin as a high pitched whimper escaped your mouth.

Sunghoon soothed your skin with his tongue and plush lips "you're mine, yeah?" his face hovered over yours, his nose stroking yours as he grazed your lips with his.

"Yeah, yours... only yours" you exhaled against his lips, fingers caressing his nape.

“Good” he commented before he locked your lips together, his tongue claiming your mouth in a possessive, passionate kiss.

You felt one of his hands going to your breasts, groping and teasing your nipples, sending shivers down your spine as he started grinding his now fully erect shaft onto your clothed cunt.

You tried to match his movements, bracing yourself around his neck for support as you lifted and humped your hips against his crotch, in search of more friction on your throbbing clit.

“Be patient, we're just getting started…” Sunghoon reprimanded your greediness with a light bite on your lower lip.

He locked eyes with you as he lowered himself down and down between your spread legs, the lukewarm air of the room suddenly feeling cold as his heat left your body.

Sunghoon broke eye contact to finally look at your pussy up close, loving the new point of view, as he experimentally glided his index finger on the lace of your panties, pressing on your clit and dragging it down to your hole, then back again dragging it to your sensitive bud. He repeated the slow movements over and over, the fabric bunching up between your lips in the process, more wetness seeping out as Sunghoon used your panties to collect it and spread it up and down between your folds, slightly pressing into your hole, the fabric preventing his digit from slipping in.

Your lewd wet sounds and little moans filled his ears as he was on the verge of losing control, almost hypnotized while he finally pulled your panties to the side to fully reveal your glistening cunt.

As he held the fabric with one hand he reached his fingers between your folds to collect your juices, and as your heart was about to burst from anticipation, Sunghoon slowly pushed a finger inside, watching carefully as your cunt slightly clenched around his digit, unable to stop a groan from escaping his throat at the sight and feeling.

He eased his finger halfway and experimentally twisted and curled it until a loud whimper from you signaled he found the spot he was looking for, so he targeted it mercilessly, pressing and dragging his digit on your most sensitive spot, gradually increasing the speed while thrusting the heel of his hand on your swollen clit.

Your legs started shaking uncontrollably, shockwaves of pleasure coursing through them as you tried not to crush Sunghoon between your thighs, moans and whimpers flowing from your throat until you felt a burning sensation in your lower abdomen, threatening to burst.

“Sunghoon… Sunghoon wait I'm-” you didn't even know what you were trying to warn him about, but it was too late anyway.

Something snapped inside of you and you felt a hot wave overflowing and crashing like a tsunami as you let go and allowed the unbearable pleasure to numb your mind.

Sunghoon gasped and groaned as he slowed down his ministrations “fuck, that was so hot…”, he resurfaced from his position between your legs to hungrily look at your face, making eye contact as you realized what just happened.

You didn't even know you were able to squirt, but the clear liquid wetting Sunghoon's nose, lips and chin confirmed your suspicions about the flood like sensation you felt moments before.

Sunghoon kept his deep eyes on yours as he lowered his face again to finally taste you and your release, lazily lapping and sucking on your clit, basically making out with your cunt as he kept slowly thrusting his finger inside of you, delicately taking care of your spent pussy.

“You taste so good… can you do that again? On my tongue this time” Sunghoon demanded more than asking, speeding up once again and resuming his make out session with your pussy, doubling his efforts to make you come again.

He added a second finger, stretching you nicely, heightening your pleasure as he started curling and thrusting again to try and trigger another orgasm, his lips wrapping around your over sensitive bud, tongue drawing figures as he relentlessly pushed you to the edge.

You mewled and sobbed, finally finding purchase in his dark locks with your wandering hand, grounding yourself as another tide crashed through you and flowed in Sunghoon's eager mouth, obscene slurping sounds filling the dimly lit room until he was sure he lapped every last drop of your nectar.

Sunghoon eased his fingers out of your pussy while rising from his prone position, pure satisfaction on his features as he inspected your face, licking his fingers clean as you watched them disappear inside his mouth.

He smirked at your empty expression “Hey, did I make you go dumb already?”, he teased you as he reached for your drenched panties, tugging as you obediently lifted your hips the best you could with your weak limbs.

“Do you want me to stop?” he worried for a second since you struggled to find your voice and reply to his teasing, relieved when you shook your head.

“No please!” you felt your ears burning hot with embarrassment “it's just… I’ve never felt this good I guess, I feel strange… I feel too good”, you tried to explain yourself as Sunghoon chuckled at your sheepish voice and expression.

“Let me make you feel even better now…” he caressed the underside of your thighs as he pushed his hands upwards towards your knees, angling your pussy just right for him to grab his shaft with one hand and stroke it between your folds a few times to collect your juices.

Sunghoon finally aligned his tip with your hole and slowly pushed in, watching your pussy swallow his flushed head, disappearing in your tight, wet hole.

He stopped for a moment to let you adjust as he studied your reactions, every little sound and expression, slowly thrusting in and out just an inch at a time to better spread your wetness and make it easier for you to take his size.

He patiently pushed inch by inch until he bottomed out, letting himself drop on his elbows on top of you, tired from the effort of holding back from roughly fucking you dumb.

After a few moments of deep breaths and gentle neck kisses and bites, Sunghoon hooked his arms under your knees, almost folding you in half as he started rolling his hips deeper into yours thanks to the new position.

Your overstimulated pussy fluttered around Sunghoon's cock with every stroke as he repeatedly pressed his pelvis on your clit while stretching you open to accommodate his size.

As soon as Sunghoon felt you relax more he sped up, thrusting deep and hard at a perfect angle as you unconsciously tried to lift your hips to meet his powerful strokes, your arousal starting to splatter on his pelvis and drip down your cunt and inner thighs, both your uncontrollable moans, whimpers and groans creating a filthy harmony in the room.

“God you're so wet… Wanna fill you up so bad, make this pussy drip with my cum…” Sunghoon growled in your neck, biting down as the pleasure got to his head, eliciting a high pitched moan from you, both of you struggling to breathe evenly.

Sunghoon's dirty talk was like ecstasy to you and with a few more deep thrusts he pushed you over the edge once again, feeling your cunt gushing on his dick as its walls spasmed, almost making him reach his own climax.

But he was quick to pull out and clamp his strong hand around his shaft to restrain himself from shooting his load then and there, too greedy to let the fun end yet.

Sunghoon gasped and growled as he managed to push back his impending orgasm, his veins even more prominent on his arms and flushed dick. When he was sure it was safe to remove his hand, he grabbed your arms to abruptly pull you up, handling you like a doll and shifting your positions.

Sunghoon made you stand up on your wobbly legs and guided you to the light wooden desk in front of the bed, making you face the wide mirror on top of it. He pressed his chest to your back as he held a hand on your hip and the other one crawled up your chest and throat to lift your face and make you look at the image in the mirror in front of you.

“Look how pretty you are while I blow your back”, Sunghoon looked into your eyes reflected in the mirror as he positioned himself, his hand on your hip shifting to the small of your back to make your ass stand out for him and properly fuck you in this new position.

He effortlessly pushed in your sopping cunt as you let out a whimper, still too sensitive from your numerous orgasms, pleasure bordering into overstimulation, still feeling too good to even think of asking him to stop.

Sunghoon pushed all the way in, almost making you lift your feet from the floor with the force of his thrust, and he took his hand from your chin to push his thumb between your lips.

“Open up”, you did as he told you and let him push his finger into your mouth as you both watched your reflections.

“Suck. Make it nice and wet”, he instructed as you obediently sucked and swirled your tongue on the digit, wetting it as best as you could.

Sunghoon watched with half lidded eyes, a dejavu of his dick in your mouth presenting in the mirror before his eyes as you took his thumb, and he started to shallowly rock his hips into you, enraptured by the sight.

When he was satisfied with your work he took his thumb from your mouth, a string of saliva connecting it to your swollen lips. He spread your ass cheeks with his other hand and brought his wet thumb in between them, gently rubbing and slightly prodding your butt hole as his thrusts gained more intensity, his balls slapping your clit every time.

The new unexpected sensation made you yelp in surprise and confusion, and you tried to turn a little bit, grabbing Sunghoon's wrist as he kept teasing your entrance, chuckling at your reaction when he noticed you actually enjoyed it, your yelp turning into little moans as you relaxed, gradually loosening your grip on his wrist.

“Please” you managed to form an actual sentence in your blissed out state “just don't put it in” a moan interrupted your train of thought as Sunghoon kept slapping his hips on your cheeks and you started struggling to keep yourself up from the desk.

“Don't worry, just wanna play a bit…” he assured you, but you later would have to admit the extra stimulation felt strangely nice. The thought of Sunghoon possibly claiming every hole in your body made your head spin into a subspace you've never experienced before. The feeling of totally letting your body and pleasure at Sunghoon's mercy made your heart flutter with both excitement and contentment, knowing he would take care of you when you completely lost control.

Sunghoon noticed your head lolling forward and your eyes closing as the arm that wasn't grasping at him threatened to give out on the desk. He took both his hands to embrace you and keep you up against his chest as you opened your eyes to meet his gaze in the mirror.

“Are you still with me?” Sunghoon was amazed by the effect he was having on you, but he still felt the urge to check on you.

“Yeah” you struggled to answer between harsh breaths and moans “please, I'm close…” you begged for him to make you come, the pleasure so intense at this point you couldn't understand if it was just the longest orgasm of your life and the little lucid part that was still in you wondered if that was actually possible.

Sunghoon picked up his pace again “if you ask so nicely… keep looking in the mirror” he demanded, pounding into you, his left hand grasping your hip to keep you in place, his right hand traveling down your body to reach your clit and rub in circles as you clenched down on him.

You angled and pushed your ass against his pelvis with newfound energy, bracing yourself on the desk, his pounding repeatedly pushing it against the wall, not caring about the noise complaints that would come the next morning.

You listened to his instructions and focused on the pornographic view that the mirror was offering. You were barely keeping yourself up, moaning and panting, while the man behind you mercilessly fucked his thick cock into you, his muscles flexing in the effort to keep you in place and occasionally push your hips back to meet his, his right hand collecting your mixed arousals to use as lube as he massaged your clit.

When you met Sunghoon's gaze you were mesmerized, flushed cheeks, his plush lips parted as he panted and moaned, fangs peeking out, brows furrowed, his half lidded eyes focused on you, traveling from the point where your bodies connected, to the expanse of your back, to your reflection in the mirror, meeting your eyes as he aimed at you sweet spot over and over.

You felt so overwhelmed, tears started to well up in your eyes, stroke after stroke making you burn from within, wet sounds and moans filling your ears until you finally snapped and your pussy convulsed around his cock.

“Look at yourself” Sunghoon ordered, his voice thickly laced with lust as he chased his own climax, reveling in the sensation of your pussy sucking and clenching rhythmically.

You looked in the mirror to see your blissed out expression, lips parted and eyes struggling to stay open and focused as you moaned loudly. Then you shifted your gaze on Sunghoon, who snapped his hips a few more times before stilling with a groan, thick white cum spurting out from the tip again and again, filling you up.

He gently rocked his hips into yours as your pussy kept clenching on his dick, milking him as he rode out his own climax, his jaw slacking, eyebrows relaxing and eyes going back into his head as he closed his eyelids, his head lolling back with one last moan.

His shallow thrusts came to a stop as he let out a shaky breath, finally taking his softening cock out of your pussy.

Sunghoon sat down on the desk chair after moving it behind you, making you bend forward on the desk to admire his thick cum slowly seeping out from your spent cunt as he grabbed and groped your cheeks to spread your lips and let more cum drip from your folds.

You dropped your upper body flush on the desk, not trusting your legs to keep you up, and suddenly tiredness started to seep in as you closed your eyes, barely hearing Sunghoon's appreciative hums as he squeezed his cum out of you, letting it drip on the floor in a small puddle.

You suddenly realized you briefly passed out on the desk as you felt yourself being lifted and laid carefully on the bed. You vaguely took note of the wet cloth that soothed your swollen folds and felt a pair of warm lips on your forehead as the sheets were lifted to cover your naked form.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N…”

You remember just vaguely humming in response as you drifted off to sleep.

You woke up to the sound of your alarm ringing from somewhere around the room and you scrambled out of bed to get it, following the sound to its place inside your black bag tossed on the floor next to the door.

You rubbed your eyes and face, stretching your sore body as the memories from the previous night flooded your mind.

That was the most intense sexual encounter you've ever experienced your whole life.

After inspecting your image in the bathroom mirror, cursing at the darkness and amount of hickeys and bite marks on your neck, you stepped into the shower and let the warm water relax your sore muscles as you recalled your heated unexpected session with who you considered your enemy, Park Sunghoon. You surely had to redefine what kind of relationship you had with him, you both were a bit too friendly to each other last night.

You stepped out of the shower and dried up with too many thoughts in mind as you started to collect your discarded clothes. You rummaged around, shifting and turning the sheets, even checking under the bed but you couldn't find your panties.

When you tossed the pillow on the bed next to the night table you noticed a piece of paper fluttering because of the air movement you caused.

You picked it up from the floor where it just landed and saw a note written in nice calligraphy along with a phone number.

I have your panties, if you wanna see them again call me…

Sunghoon

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Taglist: @toodeloosoo | @hoonics

#fanfic #kpop smut #smut #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #dom sunghoon #park sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon smut

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whocaresstillthelouvre · 3 months ago

Text

Birds Of A Feather

Rating: Teen Pairing: No Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader Words Count: 5,320 Summary: Your four hour flight home to Philadelphia turns into a 24 hour trip where you're marooned in the St. Louis airport thanks to a snowstorm. You and Joel Miller, the handsome man you just met on your flight, keep each other company. Warnings: fluff, like the amount of fluff inside of a 7 foot tall stuffed bear fluff, snow storm, pov switching, cinnamon rolls and apple juice, flight anxiety, comfort, kinda soulmate vibes, good dad joel, proud dad joel, sarah's in college, reader is an interior designer from philadelphia, the whole one bed in the hotel room trope as well, nothing bad happens to joel miller in this house, lying for a ticket.

A/N: This was written for @burntheedges' Roll A Trope Challenge. I received snowed in and thanks to the always lovely @maggiemayhemnj she helped me with suggesting snowed in at an airport. This is very very soft and cute, I hope you enjoy! ❄️💕

Masterlist

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Early morning flights are your favorite. The TSA line is usually short, coffee from the kiosk is fresh, the magazines in the newsstand are in order, and the airport is quiet in an early morning hush versus the roar of the afternoon crowds. You stop at the newsstand to pick up a magazine and a cinnamon roll before heading to your gate. You stuff your customary travel treats in your backpack looking forward to enjoying your newest Architectural Digest and sugar rush once you’re in the air.

❄️❄️❄️

A deep throat clear grabs your attention while you watch the tarmac crew prepare the plane. A broad man stands before you in the aisle, clad in a flannel and faded gray shirt taking up most of the tight space. Instant panic bubbles inside when you realize this gorgeous man is who you have to share a tiny cubicle with for the next four hours.

“Hey, uh,” he stammers, a hand brushes the back of his neck in a nervous stance, “s’alright if I take the window? It’s… helpful to me.”

His voice is deep and husky with one of those famous Texas drawls, of course his voice is just as attractive as him.

“Not at all, I can take the aisle,” you say, awkwardly bending over to grab your bag.

The handsome stranger attempts to back up as much as he can yet your body still brushes against his, he tenses before moving into the row and sits down with a big huff; if you thought he took up a lot of room in the aisle, the room he takes up in the cramped business class seat is something else.

He adjusts his shoulders to try to give you more space and fails miserably. He lets out a grumbly sigh while attempting to find a more comfortable position. His arm bumps into yours before you angle your body towards the aisle, trying to give the large stranger more room. At least he smells just as good as he looks… mint, coffee and burnt wood. There’s way worse looking people to be packed in like sardines with.

The flight attendants walk the aisle and do their pre boarding steps, checking seat belts and doors before going into their safety spiel. Your seat neighbor shuffles nervously, tapping his fingers against his thighs. He’s a nervous flier, you can spot them a mile away.

“Why are you headed to Pennsylvania?” you ask, turning towards him trying to cut through his nervous tension.

“Oh, uh, to visit my daughter, she’s a freshman at UPenn. Wanted to spend the holidays with her,” he cracks a smile at the mention of his daughter. God, he’s handsome.

“That’s nice, it’s beautiful in Philly for the holidays. I’m from there, so if you need any tips on where to go and what to do, I can help.”

“Thanks,” his fingers still tap against his lap. “Guess you’re going back home then?”

“Yep, I just finished a job and I haven’t been home in a month, just hoping to beat the snow.”

“Here’s hoping… I’m Joel by the way,” he reaches his large hand out to shake yours. You grab his calloused and overworked hand then give him your name, he nods softly and repeats it. His deep voice echoes through your head, sending a shiver up your spine.

“It’s nice to meet you Joel, even if it’s in this cramped airplane cabin.”

“S’nice to meet you too,” he lets go of your hand, placing it back on his thigh, you notice that it’s no longer nervously tapping.

Flight attendants, prepare doors for departure and cross check.

Joel lets out a big, deep sigh.

“Nervous flier?” you ask.

“You could say that,” he grumbles. “Never liked giving up control of my life to someone I don’t know.”

“I understand that, but this happens to millions of people a day, you only hear about the bad.”

“I get that,” he chuckles, quickly stopping as the plane begins to roll on the tarmac. “Still don’t have to like it.”

“Well, I fly all the time,” you reassure, “I’m sure everything will go smoothly.”

“Here’s hoping,” he sighs, sinking deeper into the seat.

You are the opposite of your seatmate, you love how the engines rumble as the plane picks up speed, the way your stomach drops when it lifts off the tarmac, the brief thud underneath when the wheels are tucked into the plane. Flying has never bothered you, it’s always been exciting and a means of getting to new adventures.

The plane speeds across the pavement preparing for liftoff, your stomach drops before the wheels leave the ground... Joel’s hand grasps yours. Golden, thick fingers cover your hand squeezing tightly. You turn to him and your heart breaks a little at the sight, his eyes are squeezed shut with his nostrils flaring as he puffs deep breaths out. There’s something so heartbreaking watching this large, strong man look so scared.

“Hey, you’re alright, it’s quick, very soon we’re going to be in the air and all we have to do is wait,” you try to sound as gentle and comforting as possible. It’s easy to take fearlessness for granted, especially when someone as large and seemingly intimidating as Joel looks so helpless.

He nods, his eyes still tightly closed before swallowing a thick gulp of air.

Your free hand reaches up and opens his air vent before angling yours toward him.

“Can you look at me Joel,” you whisper. His hand still clasps yours tightly. It hurts like hell, but you don’t mind; if it makes him feel better, he can clasp as hard as he needs.

His brown eyes open wide and focus on you.

“That’s good, Joel, can you take a deep breath for me? Iiiiiin and ooooout. Very good,” you encourage with a grin on your face holding his eye contact. “This is worth it, you’ll get to see your daughter, tell me her name and what she’s like.”

“H-her name’s Sarah, she’s uh, studying to be a doctor, sh-she’s way smarter than her old man, sh-she plays on the soccer team, got a scholarship for it ‘n everything, she loves music and going to too many damn concerts. She’s going to go deaf like me if she ain’t careful.”

“She sounds awesome,” you smile.

“She is, don’t know how I got so lucky.”

“What do you do for work?” you keep him talking, making sure to distract Joel’s anxiety.

“Contractor, I own a contracting service with my brother, we specialize in retail and office buildings.”

“Oh, that sounds like hard work, but it’s nice you get to work with your brother.”

“Could be better, could be worse,” he shrugs.

“Hey, I’m an interior designer, we’re both in similar fields. How many carpenter pencils do you have? I probably have three floating around in my purse right now.”

He chuckles, his face loses its tenseness, Joel doesn’t attempt to take his hand from yours, and you don’t move to do it either. You work with contractors all the time, you’ve never seen one as gorgeous as him.

“My daughter always tried to get me to let her use ‘em for school work because they were a different shape, kept on having to take them away from her.”

“She sounds tenacious.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” he muses.

Good afternoon passengers. This is your captain speaking. First I'd like to welcome everyone on Flight 86A. We are currently cruising at an altitude of 33,000 feet at an airspeed of 400 miles per hour. We’re going to try to avoid the snow the best we can, we’ll keep you updated in case anything changes.

You’ve been entertaining Joel so much both of you didn’t notice you totally missed lift off and your ascent into the sky.

“Would you look at that? We’re in the air, you only have four hours until you get to see her.”

“Thanks for that,” he says, moving his hand from yours. “I feel ridiculous.”

“No need, I’m happy I could help,” you shake the tenseness out of your hand after the twenty minutes of being in Joel’s vice grip.

“You alright? Did I hurt you?” his eyes round in guilt under his furrowed eyebrows focus on your hand.

“No, no, it’s okay,” you reassure. “You just have a strong grip. Must be all of that contractor business.”

He sends you a shy, crooked grin, “M’sorry.”

“I’ll survive, just like we’ll survive this flight together, Joel,” you wink.

He looks at you, his brown eyes turn darker and his tongue darts out to lick his lips. “You’re quite someth–”

“May I offer you a drink?” the flight attendant interrupts. Worst fucking time.

You order an apple juice. Joel orders a black coffee.

“Apple juice?” he asks.

“Yeah, it’s kind of a tradition I have. I always get a cinnamon roll and apple juice every time I fly in the morning. Tastes kinda like apple pie when they’re together.”

“Hm, I don’t know about that,” he scrunches his nose and shakes his head.

“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” you shrug before pulling the cinnamon roll out of your bag.

You ask for an extra cup when the attendant brings yours and Joel’s drinks before ripping off half of the cinnamon roll and handing it to him. “Here.”

“No, no, it’s yours.”

“Yeah, but I want to share,” you urge, “I got you a cup for apple juice too.”

“If you insist,” he obliges, taking the soft pastry.

Half of your juice is poured into the extra cup before you hand it to him and raise your cup up to cheers.

“To four hour flights and apple pie” you quip.

“Cheers,” he says, gently shaking his head with eyes lit resembling something akin to affection.

You both take a drink of the sweet juice before picking up the cinnamon roll and taking a bite.

“See?” you say, still chewing the sweet pastry.

“Mmf,” he shakes his head and swallows. “Not apple pie, but pretty damn good.” He wipes the errant crumbs off of his mustache, you wonder if his lips taste like cinnamon and apples.

“I’ll take pretty damn good,” you muse, picking up your magazine and settling into your seat.

❄️❄️❄️

Joel glances towards you every chance he gets. He’s a realist, sometimes too much of one, he knows why he’s so calm during this flight– your comforting presence. He’s hated flying his whole life, his father never understood his fear, always telling him ‘I flew on planes bigger and louder than this all through the war, kid, buck up.’ Thanks dad, that’ll surely help the terrified eight year old crying and clutching to his mother. Sarah damn near broke his heart when she met him at the door excitedly waving the acceptance letter to a school 1,700 miles away. How could he crush his little girl’s dreams because her old man hates being in the sky? He got to bide his time, driving her in the moving truck to her new school, but now– with her first Christmas out of state and unable to fly home due to work– Joel was forced to step on the scary metal tube.

He could hardly believe his luck when the pretty girl gazing out the window ended up being his seatmate; the excitement over being so close to you helped shield a bit of his trepidation over his first solo flight and then he went on to embarrass himself. You didn’t shake your head or shun him, you accepted and supported him. He can still feel your soft hand wrapped in his and hear your gentle voice coaching him down from a panic attack. You’re a complete stranger, and yet you’ve shown him more kindness than he’s allowed himself to accept in years.

You adjust in your seat, your elbow brushes against his, little do you know he bunched up the sleeve of his flannel so he could feel the touch of your skin.

He doesn’t know why you affect him the way that you do, it’s only been a couple of hours in the sky next to you, but he’s already trying to think of a way to give you his phone number.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Captain Scott has informed us that we will be diverting to St. Louis due to the weather conditions at Philadelphia. We will be landing in approximately twenty minutes and will keep you advised about the continuation of this flight to our destination as information becomes available. We apologize for the inconvenience this may have caused. Thank you for your patience and understanding. We are aware that many of you have connecting flights departing Philadelphia. Our ground staff will work with you to confirm you on the next available flight to your destination. Thank you for your patience.

“Well, shit,” you sigh, placing your magazine down, rolling your neck and stretching your arms. “Had a feeling this might happen.”

“Shit indeed,” he sighs.

“How are you with landings, Joel?” you softly question. “Can I do anything for you?”

His heart skips, he hasn’t felt this feeling in years. Sure his little girl steals his heart every second of the day, but for a woman to make his heart race the way it is now making butterflies flutter through his stomach… that hasn’t happened in two decades.

“No, I should be okay, thank you,” he says, feeling a bit foolish.

“I’m here for you, okay?” The gentleness of your voice void of any judgment helps soothe his shame.

Ladies and gentlemen, we have begun our descent into St. Louis. Please turn off all portable electronic devices and stow them until we have arrived at the gate. In preparation for landing, please be certain your seat back is straight up and your seat belt is fastened. Please secure your carry-on items, stow your tray table, and pass any remaining service items and unwanted reading materials to the flight attendants. Thank you.

His breathing turns rapid, he feels the phantom of fear rearing its ugly head 10,000 feet above the ground. He’s seen far too many videos of planes spurting flames and panicked passengers escaping down blown up slides. He remembers Captain Sulley and the miracle on the Hudson… that ain’t no miracle. Joel Miller is a realist, how about everyone almost died in the Hudson? He tries to breathe like that weird lady on TikTok Sarah showed him… make a square with every breath? Or make a line and then breathe? Christ, he can’t remember. His lips part to inhale more stale pressurized oxygen trying to calm his pulsating heart. This time your hand grabs his, he looks over at your face set soft with a reassuring smile, a wash of calm runs through him. You’re so beautiful.

“You’re alright Joel, I’m here with you,” you gently lilt.

He focuses on the soft back and forth of your fingers against him, centering himself and making the phantom back away. He loves the way your soft skin looks against his. Your nails are painted a light blue, it reminds him of the bright Texas morning sky.

The plane descends as you hold his eye contact with that same beautiful and assuring smile lighting up your face.

“We’re almost on the ground, you’re doing so good,” fear and veneration perform a duet in his heart making it pound against his chest.

The wheels hit the tarmac, he lets out a huge breath of relief. Your hand still holds his, even as he visibly relaxes. He watches the light blue of your nail polish swipe back and forth against the top of his hand.

Ladies and gentlemen, we welcome you to St. Louis. The local time is 9:45 AM. For your safety and the safety of those around you, please remain seated with your seat belt fastened and keep the aisle clear until we are parked at the gate. The Captain will then turn off the “Fasten Seat Belt” sign, indicating it is safe to stand. Please use caution when opening the overhead compartments and removing items, since articles may have shifted during flight. We thank you for your patience, rest assured our staff is here to help you.

“Well, I know it’s not home, or Sarah… but we’ll make the best of it,” you say, pulling your bag out from underneath the seat. He loves how positive you are, he needs someone like you in his life.

❄️❄️❄️

Three hours of being stuck in the airport have slowly ticked by, at least you have the company of your new travel partner. You check your weather app for the millionth time, no change at all… snow still falls all along the tri-state area.

“Anything?” he asks, looking up from his Sports Illustrated.

“No luck,” you shrug, “I’m starving.”

“Come on,” he points his head towards the restaurant near the gate, “my treat.”

You follow him, wondering why you feel so excited over this impromptu lunch date. You can’t deny your attraction to him, an inkling inside of you makes you believe Joel might feel the same. Yeah, you might be stuck in St. Louis, your return to your comfortable bed and bathtub postponed due to the falling snow, but at least you have your handsome flight partner with you.

The restaurant is nice, a typical Concourse B type place full of simple people enjoying a hot meal, simple menu, a simple design inspired by of all things– airplanes.

Joel asks for a table near the window, the hostess obliges, leading you to a table in a quiet section of the restaurant. He pulls the chair out for you, southern manners and all.

He takes a seat with a humph, mumbling how tight his back is from all of the damn sitting. You order a hot tea, he orders a coffee.

You’ve known him for a grand six hours and yet you’re going to remember this usually milquetoast adventure for a long, long time.

“What’re you thinking?” he asks, perusing the menu.

“Turkey sandwich and soup,” you answer, mouth already watering at the idea of your meal. “You?”

“Burger ‘n fries. I’m hungry though that half of a cinnamon roll sure did satisfy,” he sends you a barely perceptible wink.

“So, do you have any plans for you and your daughter?”

“She says she has an idea or two for us, she’s a planner, I’m just there to see her, this is the longest I’ve been away from her.” His voice drops, a slight hitch in his breath appears, you can feel the sadness radiating off of him. He must be such a good dad.

“Sounds rough,” you empathize, wishing you could recreate what happened on the plane and put your hand over his while telling him everything will be okay.

“Yeah, it’s been difficult, it’s just been me and her since forever. I know she’s happy and fulfilled, that's all I can ask for.”

You wonder where Sarah’s mom went, why it’s just the two of them, and most of all if he’s single. How can you be falling for this almost stranger and his big heart that sits below his broad, flannel covered chest?

“I moved far away for art school and it was the best decision I ever made. I'm so thankful for my parents letting me have that experience. You should be proud of her… and most of all you should be proud of you.”

He looks over the brim of his coffee mug, takes a drink, and places it down on the table before grabbing your hand.

“You’re so– I’ve never met anybody like you before,” he says, rubbing his thumb against your knuckles.

The restaurant and airport disappear from your periphery, it’s only you and this man from Austin on the way to your hometown to see his daughter. This has never happened to you before… a spark of something you have no clue what to call shared between the two of you.

“I could say the same thing to y–,” you're interrupted by the waitress’s arrival, Joel’s hand retreats from yours; the physical and emotional connection between you and Joel is broken by your food being placed on the table.

“So, what’s the plan?” Joel asks as he grabs the Tabasco bottle and shakes a smattering of drops over his burger.

“No clue,” you sigh, “I wish I could take a nap. What did your daughter say when you told her?”

“Oh, she was fine, disappointed but she told me she’ll still get over a week with me once I get there,” he shakes his head, his face lifts with a doting grin. “She’s always the glass half full type.”

“And let me guess, you’re much more of a ‘the damn glass is half empty’ type?”

“Always.”

“Mm,” you nod, before taking a bite of your turkey sandwich.

❄️❄️❄️

His heart beats harder against his chest as he watches you approach him from the ticket counter.

“Any new update?” he’s nervous, he hasn’t felt this nervous in years. He never realized how much he missed this type of emotional tension that pulls his back to stand straighter.

“The storm hasn’t let up, all airports in the area are on a ground stop, and now with the storm here, I think we’re screwed,” you close your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose. You look exhausted, spending all day in a packed airport has obviously taken its toll on you. He wants to wrap his arms around you, carry you to whatever destination you need to go to and never let go. He can’t believe he’s thinking like this, he doesn’t even know your favorite color or movie. “I’m sorry Joel.”

He hates watching your face drop, you’ve done nothing wrong. “Hey, none of that,” he takes a tentative step forward, he’s worried to overcross a line, but your sunken shoulders and defeated posture pushes him forward. He wraps his flannel clad arms around you, pulling you into a hug. Your body instantly molds to his, finding the perfect spot on his chest to rest your head against. A sweet and grateful sigh breathes out of you, radiating through his whole body.

“Looked like you needed this,” he says against your hair, breathing the feminine scent of you in. He hasn’t been this close to a woman like this in years. Sure he’s had some hookups here and there, but a real honest to goodness connection with someone after only half of a day spent together? Never happened. He feels lucky.

“I did, thank you,” you breathe out. He still holds you, making zero attempt to let go. You imagine to the average passerby you resemble a couple in love, standing in the airport terminal, holding each other.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, still holding you tight. “I think there’s a pretty good restaurant here.”

“I am, a real nice guy once took me to lunch there,” you pull away. “It’s my treat this time.”

❄️❄️❄️

Joel stands at the ticket desk, it’s now his turn to see if there have been any changes. It’s been twelve hours of being marooned in this airport, you should feel more miserable at this point, but the constant support the two of you trade back and forth to each other has helped alleviate the ugliness of stress.

“Any luck?” you ask, perking up when he stands in front of you.

“Actually, yeah, they have a 9 AM flight to Philly tomorrow afternoon,” he says, tucking his ticket into his pocket. You can’t look him in the eyes, if you do you’re going to think about how much you’re going to miss him… this man you’ve only known for a grand total of twelve hours. “There’s two seats left… and I got one. The lady at the desk is waiting for my fiancee to go get her ticket.”

Your eyes widen at what he implies.

“Oh, ohhhhhh,” you grin. “Clever man.”

“Yeah, I need your help, since I’m a nervous flier and all…”

Your knees feel weak from the doting smile Joel gives you. “Thanks love,” you stretch and kiss his cheek before heading to the ticket counter.

❄️❄️❄️

He can’t keep his eyes off of you as you walk over to the counter. He can still feel your lips against his cheek, there’s a foreign feeling in his heart. He’s already thinking about introducing you to Sarah, what the hell is this?

The airport worker laughs at something you say, of course they’re charmed by you, you’re such a sweet thing, like cinnamon rolls and apple juice.

You turn, a big smile lights your face when you walk back to him, waving your ticket in the air.

He chuckles out a nervous snicker when you skip over and wrap your arms around him.

“The agent pulled in a favor and got us a room at the hotel attached here, she said she has a softness for ‘lovebirds’ like us,” you pull away with a mischievous glint lighting your face. “Plus, she thinks my fiance is handsome.”

“Uh… okay,” he’s not sure what you’re implying, you’re far too special to him already for a one-night romp in a hotel room.

“No funny business Joel,” you wink as you grab your bag. He can’t believe how well you read him. “Now, let’s go get our luggage and check in.”

❄️❄️❄️

You enter the keycard into the door thanking that lovely ticket agent for access to a comfortable bed. And it’s just as you feared… a bed… just one, singular bed that greets you in this average airport hotel room.

“I can take the chair,” Joel nervously says.

Part of you wishes he wouldn’t have offered.

“If you want, but the bed is big enough for both of us,” you shrug out of your jacket.

“S’okay, wouldn’t feel right.”

It’d feel just fine to you, but you don’t say anything, instead you open your luggage and fish out your toiletry bag and your pajamas.

“It’s almost midnight, I’m going to get my shower and get ready for bed.”

❄️❄️❄️

His foot nervously taps against the carpet, goosebumps prickle along his arms when he hears your sigh reverberate against the shower tiles. Why is he so anxious? It feels like prom night all over again; he’s just a shy boy waiting for the beautiful girl to give him a sign, any sign, that she likes him. The last time he felt like this Sarah was born nine months later.

He grabs the TV remote trying to find a reprieve from his anxious thoughts, flipping it to the news. The anchor drones on about the great holiday snowstorm. In a way, he’s thankful for the blizzard– sure it means even more time in a flying panic tube, but at least he met you. He vows to not let any type of temptation get in the way of what feelings are developing between you two. No matter how much he thinks about your naked body in the shower and how good your body wash smells.

❄️❄️❄️

You emerge from the bathroom, clean and fresh in your pajamas.

“Should’ve figured you’d be an Eagles fan,” he says, smirking at your oversized and faded sleep shirt.

“Let me guess, Cowboys fan?”

“Forever and always.”

“Oh, well, you’re my enemy now.”

He laughs, “I’m sure I am.”

You tuck yourself under the covers while Joel takes his shower, quickly falling asleep to the sounds of whatever generic late night host is cracking jokes on the TV.

❄️❄️❄️

He quietly opens the bathroom door, the hotel room is bathed in the dim glow of the television. You're already fast asleep, cuddled under the white duvet, you look like an angel surrounded by clouds. Of course you're beautiful when you sleep. He tries not to stare too long, and yet he's planted in the threshold of the bedroom admiring you. He feels lucky at this moment, being able to watch someone as pretty as you slumber peacefully, while trying to silence the fact that tomorrow you both will go your separate ways. He doesn't want to say goodbye.

❄️❄️❄️

A bassy groan and shuffle in the dark floats through the air waking you. The clock reads 1:45 AM. “There’s enough room in the bed for you, you know?”

“I know, just don’t want to overst– I’m still a stranger.”

“No, you’re my fiance, remember?” you shuffle the sheets on the other side of the bed down, “Joel, please, I insist.”

He sighs when he stands and makes his way to the bed. The mattress dips under his weight, you can feel heated tension radiating off his body, the strong specimen of all man lays insecurely next to you.

“Joel, relax,” you whisper before placing your hand on his chest feeling the rapid beat of his heart.

“I’m okay, I-I just– haven’t done something like this in so long.”

“What? Laid in bed next to someone you’ve known less than a day? I’ve actually never done this.”

A quiet laugh rumbles in his chest. “No, just haven’t met someone as real as you in a long time. Is it real?”

“It’s real,” you say, shuffling closer to him, replacing your hand with your head. He wraps his arm around you as you listen to the pitter patter of his heart. “Goodnight Joel,” you whisper, closing your exhausted eyes.

“G’night,” he purrs, you feel the ghost of his lips against your hair as you drift to sleep.

❄️❄️❄️

He lays awake most of the night, too afraid to fall asleep and disturb your beautiful sleeping form. He wishes he could record the cute sounds that emit from you as you slumber and dream, he’d listen to them forever if he could. He can’t believe he’s thinking this way, what should’ve been a terrifying and lonely standard trip to see his daughter has turned into an adventure of a lifetime with a woman he’s already crazy for.

Sure, he’s shared a bed with others since Sarah’s mom, he’s had a couple of flings here and there, but he never allowed himself to cuddle or care for them. They were never good enough for him… or most importantly Sarah. He thinks Sarah would adore you.

The red digits on the alarm clock read 3:00 AM, he’s known you for a grand total of twenty hours. Meaning he only has about eight hours left, he’s already dreading saying goodbye.

❄️❄️❄️

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

Your groggy eyes open, you move to silence the alarm but you quickly realize you’re trapped under a heavy weight. Joel. He groans against you, with his arms held tight around your stomach and his face nuzzled into your shoulder.

“Joel, it’s time to get up.”

He tenses against you and quickly unwraps your body from his hold.

“Sorry,” he sheepishly says, reaching across you to turn the alarm off.

“It’s okay,” you want to tell him you didn’t mind it all, that you haven’t slept that well in years, but you stay quiet.

“I’m just going to… get ready,” he stands, stretching and wiping his tired eyes. You try not to focus on the glimpse of his stomach remembering what it felt to have the soft swell of him against your back. “Don’t think I’ve slept that well in years.”

The bathroom door shuts as you flop back into bed, welcoming the fluttery feeling inside your body. “I feel the same way,” you confess to the empty hotel room.

❄️❄️❄️

Flight attendants, prepare doors for departure and cross check.

“Well, we’re back to where we started, it’s been quite an adventure,” you smile.

“It has,” he clears his throat, reaches for your hand and sends you a soft smile. “I have ten days in Philadelphia, I was wondering if you have any good suggestions for a nice, romantic place to take someone I really like to?”

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