#someone please write a smut of this scene
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inevitably-johnlocked · 3 days ago
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Hii, I was wondering if you had any recs of a writer/author John au. I've found some of author Sherlock, but none of John except his blogging that he does normally. if you don't do recs anymore or don't feel like answering feel free to ignore and have a lovely day! <3
Hi Nonny!
Oh I'm still doing weekly lists, I just don't get many asks for them anymore so I feel like y'all don't like them anymore LOL. BUT!! Your ask is a fantastic excuse to use your ask as a list prompt since I don't have one ready for today!! I actually find the opposite, that there seem to be more "writer John" fics more than the other way around, especially as I've been going through my lists.
That said, I've done a tag search for "writer" and "author" on my offline lists, and here's what I got! Hope you enjoy and as usual, if anyone has any fics that they would like to suggest, please add them below!!
WRITER / AUTHOR JOHN
BOOKMARKS
A Gossamer Dream by CarmillaCarmine (E, 15,985 w., 4 Ch. || Writer/Teacher AU || First Meetings, Friends to Lovers, Writer John / Teacher Sherlock, Fluff, London, Holding Hands, Online Friendship / Romance, Phone Sex, Anal Sex, Happy Ending, Alternating POV, Scottish John, Online Relationship, Internalized Homophobia, Hand Holding, Forehead Touching, First Kiss/Time, Texting/Sexting, Rimming, Toplock, Sherlock Speaks French) – Sherlock had never realised one could care so much about someone they'd never met in person. Now he is about to meet the friend with whom he's been chatting online for months and his anticipation is reaching a crescendo. Part 19 of Johnlock Smut (with Feels)
Being John Watson-ish by elwinglyre (E, 69,902 w., 17 Ch. || Bodysnatcher AU || Author John, Cranky Sherlock, Angst, Sexual Tension, First Kiss / Time, Falling in Love, BAMF John, Past Soldier John, Feelings, Inside Someone’s Brain, Shy Sherlock, Sherlock Loves John, POV Sherlock, Switchlock, Slow Burn, Internal Dialogue, Mental Turmoil) – When consulting detective Sherlock Holmes steps on one toe too many at a crime scene, he's consigned to a desk job in an archaic office on the seventh-and-a-half floor of the New Scotland Yard. It’s in this bleak office that Sherlock discovers a portal into the mind of renowned author John Watson. Grander than his mind palace, this new wonderland affords Sherlock new vistas of experimentation. To learn more about the mystery behind the portal, Sherlock seeks out and befriends Watson. But then it all goes wrong when others find the secret portal door—including the man whose brain he visits.
MARKED FOR LATER
Exposition - An Ex Files Special by 7PercentSolution (T, 7,643 w., 12 Ch. || POV Second Person, Angst, Bereavement, Poetry / Haiku, Hallucinations, Writing as Therapy) – John's a writer. However much Sherlock derided the blog, people read what he writes. After the fall, John's writing takes a surprisingly different approach. This sets the context for a series of chapters, each one including a different poem by John. Part 4 of Ex Files
keywords: Gay, Loving, Boyfriends by lookupkate (E, 17,771 w., 17 Ch. || Doctor John AU || Alternate First Meeting, Hospitals, John Writes Smut, Sherlock Reads Smut, Fanfiction) – John starts writing gay romance while holed up in hospital. Sherlock reads the first fic on accident, and it sticks with him for days. He can't help but read more from the unknown writer. Little does he know, the writer isn't exactly unknown to him. The writer happens to be the A&E Doctor he's feuding with. Christ, can you imagine what he'll think once he finds out? 
Dead Letter Office by a_different_equation (M, 20,364 w., 15 Ch. || ‘Bartleby’ Fusion / Office Setting AU || Different First Meeting, Epistolary, John's Blog, Angst with a Happy Ending, Pre-Canon, John Watson is Sherlock's Boss, PTSD John, Military Backstory, Writer John, Drug Use, Texting) – John Watson comes home from the war, gets a new job and meets Sherlock Holmes through Mike Stamford. Same tale since 1891, except this time it’s 2008, John is Sherlock’s boss, and they work together at the Dead Letter Office in London. It's not a love story, until it finally is.
The Reawakening of John Watson by  221b_careful_what_you_wish_for (E, 20,463 w., 14 Ch. || Historical 1800s American/Victorian AU || Artist Sherlock, Writer John, Angst with Happy Ending, Bisexual John, Period Typical Homophobia, Sensuality, Experienced Sherlock, Pining, Past Drug Use, Slow Burn, Love Confessions, Flirty Sherlock, Frottage, Outdoor Sex, Trust Issues, Minor Character Death, Sexual Tension, Colorado / London, Rimming, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs,  POV John) – Trying to escape his troubled past in England, John Watson has started a new life in the American West. When he meets the handsome artist Sherlock Holmes, a smoldering attraction is sparked, complicating his quiet, carefully guarded existence. Maybe taking a risk with Sherlock is exactly what John needs to feel alive again...
The Key to Castles in the Air by LadyKailitha (T, 34,365 w., 21 Ch. || Author AU || Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Bratty Sherlock, Damaged Sherlock, Romance, Shop Clerk/Writer John) – John is a clerk (and writing a book on the side) at a bookshop run by Mrs Hudson. The one downside to this perfect job is Sherlock Darling, Mrs Hudson's friend who loves to rile John up. About everything. All that changes when they are forced to spend a week together in the country when bad weather hits. Sherlock's got secrets. What will John do once he finds them out?
There I Saw You, Night by esplanade (T, 54,073 w., 12 Ch. || Writer AU || Poet Sherlock, Writer John, True Love, Sherlock's A Mess, Conversations, John's Family) – "It wasn't as if he had stopped writing entirely. Quite the opposite, in fact. It was just that most of what he wrote ended up thrown into the fireplace at home. What was the sense in keeping something that was sub-par?"
This Is Your Song by agirlsname (E, 79,990 w., 19 Ch. || Moulin Rouge Fusion || Prostitute Sherlock, Poet John, Acting, Singing, Dancing, Writing, Poetry, Musical, Song Fic, Heavy Angst, Unreliable Narrator, Sherlock is French, Love at First Sight, UST, First Kiss/Time, Frottage, Coming in Pants, Anal Sex, Switchlock, Clothed Sex, Crossdressing, Secret Relationship, Forbidden Love, Jealousy, Terminal Illnesses, Grief/Mourning, Breakup/Makeup Sex, Past Drug Use, Attempted Rape, Canon-Typical Violence)– When John Watson is invalided home from the army in 1895, he moves to Paris to rediscover his writing and find a new meaning in life. His old friend Stamford invites him into a group of artist friends, and suddenly John finds himself auditioning to write a show for the famous brothel across the street. There, he meets the most beautiful man he’s ever seen - Sherlock, the star of the Moulin Rouge. But Sherlock is already promised to the investor of the show, the rich Duke Moriarty.
A Case of Identity – The Musical by shamelessmash (E, 83,147 w., 15 Ch. || 1950′s Hollywood AU || Musical, Case Fic, Undercover as an Actor, Dancing, Happy Ending, Kidnapping, Drugs, Fluff and Angst, Humour, Writer/Director John, Slow Burn / Romance) – A mysterious death on set causes chaos in Stamford productions latest movie. With the premiere date left unchanged, they must find a new lead actor and reshoot an entire movie in two months. Sherlock Holmes goes undercover as a lead actor in a Musical: a juggling act to solve a murder while singing, dancing and charming his way through 1950s Hollywood. The last thing he expected was to fall in love with the screenwriter along the way. Or as I like to call it: the case where Sherlock finally gets to dance.
WORKS IN PROGRESS
Children of the Revolution by BadNewsForBrainWork (E, 7,655+ w., 4/? Ch. || WiP || Moulin Rouge AU || Prostitution, BDSM, Multiple Pairings) –  John is an English writer travelling to the small village of Montmartre in Paris, France is hopes of taking part in the Bohemian Revolution. As soon as he arrives, he gets swept up by the revolutionaries and taken to the Moulin Rouge where he meets Sherlock Holmes. He quickly finds himself caught in a dangerous love triangle that could risk his entire career and maybe even his life.
Wood and Wicker by HardlyFair (M, 14,114+ w., 3/8 Ch. || WW2 Historical AU / Hot Fuzz AU || BAMF John, Case Fic, Secret Societies, Secrets, Romance, Humour, Action, Writer John, Murder Mystery) – 1946. Sandford, England. Following the second World War, Sherlock Holmes accepts an unwanted case far in the English countryside to investigate a string of grisly deaths. Problems arise when it becomes clear that no one thinks anyone has been murdered at all, that nothing outside a series of unfortunate accidents has transpired, and that nothing untoward is afoot in Sandford -- no one, save for a small-time columnist from the local newspaper.
Christmas in Honeycutt by helloliriels (T, 27,950+ w., 14/23 Ch. || WIP || Christmas in Connecticut AU / WWII AU || Kidnapping, Spies / Secret Agents, Codes & Ciphers, Past Relationships, Developing Relationship, Fake Marriage, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending) – John's publisher asks if his family could entertain a war hero at their idyllic estate in Somerset for Christmas. Only ... John doesn't have a wife ... or a daughter. Or an estate. He has a bedsit. In London. And some wounds of his own to recover from ... but he can't tell his publisher that or he'll get fired … What's a writer to do? Cracking Codes. Super Spies. Sherlock in Disguise. A wild Christmas romance set in the countryside! Just what the doctor ordered! Part 6 of the Liriels Chaptered Fics series
Novel by lifeonmars (M, 50,264+ w., 10/? Ch. || WiP || Author AU || Fairy Tales / Red Riding Hood Elements, Fantasy, Writer’s Block, Falling in Love, Peter Pan References, Slow Burn, Romance, Writer John, Editor Sherlock) – John Watson has writer's block. Sherlock Holmes is the world's best consulting editor. Whether John can write a book is another story entirely.
How Novel Series by StarlightAndFireflies (T, 66,472+ w. across 11 Stories || Series WiP || Writer John / Unilock AU || Book Signing, Flirting, Dating, Shy  Sherlock, Romance, Getting to Know Each Other) – AU in which John is an author, and Sherlock is a fan who comes to his book signing.
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getsuuna · 17 hours ago
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ok so here's my complaint of the day!
I wrote this during the moment I felt like complaining and I was sleepy so it MIGHT be a little dramatic 😇
every time I'm devouring a SaneGiyuu fic because I like its plot for a while, here goes a smut scene that never fails to make me sigh and mayhaps roll my eyes
most of the times I know I'll get icked but decide to read because "what if it's not that bad",, then it's almost always the same shit over and over: Sanemi topping, bonus points if there's even just slight roughness (yikes😬...), Giyuu being loud and being described in degrading terms [and basically none of this was told beforehand in tags nor notes, almost as if it was the "normal" perception of SaneGiyuu for most people...??? shut UP??😃]
respectfully, it's ass.
I'm tired, these tropes are overused and fucking inaccurate dare I say, unless there's a reason in the fanfic's AU specifically but I still find it to be too common and weird. if you want a somewhat accurate SaneGiyuu pay gorn (/hj /ref) it must be them switching AND being romantic. where the FUCK is the romance,, the last one I've read now wasn't that bad because it still mentioned adoration, kisses and love overall, but there's almost always something that icks me even just in the few fics I've read so far, and it makes my reading experience sm slower and uncomfortable afterwards even if I initially loved the fic
now, as I've stated multiple times, I hate the "rough daddy dom Sanemi" and "submissive twink Giyuu" headcanons with every single inch of my entire being in&out including my whole soul /drm,,, and not just in sex scenes but in their overall dynamic, it's so enraging I don't care if someone disagrees I'd just stare and judge??😭😭😭my main purpose when I complain abt this stuff is to look for other people with my same mindset (thank GOD I saw lots of them so far though)
the disrespect, and the fetishization of queer couples in which one "has to look/act more like the opposite gender" and inevitably the one who has more apparent feminine traits has to be the sub, bc they associate femininity with submissiveness. heteronormativity and borderline patriarchy-inducted stereotypes?? woah./neg
let Sanemi receive, it won't make him any less of a man nor threaten his masculinity I promise🥺 same goes for Giyuu if he was actually written like the manly strong man and SOLDIER he fucking is? I still wouldn't really really prefer it but I would respect the preference in that case.. heated arguments about who tops or bottoms are inherently fetishizing and stupid, however if I see a (weird) pattern I'm gonna hate it sorry not sorry😭🙏🏻
also please if someone can recommend SaneGiyuu fics with NO smut or actually well written sex scenes with them preferably switching (it's the only actual realistic trope and I stand by this fact) I'll be thankful, and I'm taking the occasion to also recommend "You And Me, Alone Together" by Katz3 (yes there's also occasional sex scenes and yes they're perfect in every possible way, the whole fic is!! I have yet to find a better fic and I know I won't, despite it being underrated); or maybe if you have fic recs in which Giyuu exclusively tops if there's NSFW scenes, out of nothing but pure spite, I would be thankful as well🥰
one last thing bc I usually get heavily misinterpreted whenever I complain abt anything: I'm NOT saying "GiyuSane is better" (even if that's what *I* personally think, due to how I interpret their writing and how I headcanon their relationship dynamic which has nothing much different from most, I just don't twinkify/overly-feminize/infantilize Giyuu nor I over-sexualize/booktok-fy Sanemi), I'm just saying it's more realistic if they switched: it's more accurate, more inclusive, less mischaracterizing, less stereotyped and therefore less heteronormative and less fetishizing...
and about the degrading and roughness and all that I mentioned, I just despise it. for every ship and every trope, whether m/f, f/f or m/m. it takes romance away imo and I won't be sugarcoating it with "oh but it's consensual so it's fine" nor negotiating it in order not to piss off the people who like this kind of content; I'm sorry, keep your preferences, but I won't be shutting the fuck up if I have to read it every goddamn time I naively think there's normal and loving sex scenes. put tags to warn readers who don't wanna read that shit so they can skip it if they still gave the fic a shot, please🙏🏻
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hyperactivewhore · 7 months ago
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Why does no one ever edit 1930 Klaus.
Have y'all seen his outfit? His hair? His rings?? Maybe it's me the weirdo who has an obsession with men wearing rings but I just have an obsession with the Mikaelson family especially Klaus.
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jiyansthesis · 2 years ago
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how the fuck do you guys write kissing scenes
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voyter · 2 months ago
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DEVOTION — jeon jungkook.
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genre. a song of ice and fire au. 103 AC. smut. knight!jungkook. queen!reader.
your knight is completely devoted to you, and while it’s his duty, you can’t help but wonder if there’s something more behind his unwavering loyalty.
word count. 17.1k words (FUCK i am so sorry) warnings. this fic might be a bit confusing if you havent watched game of thrones or house of the dragon !!! misogyny. gender dynamics. seokjin and namjoon cameo hehe. forced / arranged marriage. over protective jungkook <3. cute convo between oc and her husband. violence. mentions of blood and murder. SO MUCH FUCKING TENSION. smut. two sex scenes !! dry humping. oral (male!receiving). unprotected sex (this universe takes place thousands of years ago and condoms didnt exist yet give me a break). bath sex. they almost get caught OOP. cheating (but both parties are consenting and they both openly do it to each other but they dont love each other romantically so its okay i guess) ???? jungkook literally worships her oh im sick i need him.
ana's notes. this fic ended up being much longer than i anticipated but oh my gosh i literally could NOT STOP WRITING !!! this is the longest fic ive ever written hello. this is inspired by alicent and coles relationship in season 2. sorry i hate them but this trope ??? OUUU TOO GOOD. so you know i got inspired. anyways, i love this one so much, so please let me know your thoughts <3. as always, keep your comments positive or say nothing at all xx
listening to. blue jeans by lana del rey / middle of the night by elley duhé / flawless by the neighbourhood
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part of the based off film series. this one shot is based off house of the dragon.
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You had always hated the idea of marrying someone you didn’t love, but you knew that marriage was not a choice — it was an obligation woven into the fabric of your destiny. Though reluctance filled you at first, you gradually came to terms with your duty, accepting the role thrust upon you with a measure of peace.
House Emberwyn ruled the Seven Kingdoms, making them the most powerful house of all. Your father had forged a deep bond with King Aelyx, the two men connected by the shared grief of losing their wives. Beyond their friendship, your father was adamant that uniting your houses through marriage was crucial. He envisioned a future where the intertwining of two powerful, wealthy legacies would forge an unbreakable realm.
Atticus, the son of King Aelyx, was only a year older than you — making him a suitable match. Like you, he was reluctant to marry, but he, too, understood the importance of duty. He wanted nothing more than to make his father proud, even if it meant sacrificing personal desire.
As the sole heirs of your respective houses, the pressure to produce children was immediate. The act of intimacy with Atticus was never one of passion or love; it was merely another duty. The first time was uncomfortable, almost unbearable, but over time, you learned to tolerate it. This was your life now, dictated by duty rather than desire.
Since your marriage, you have been blessed with three children. Ares, your eldest and only son, was conceived during your bedding ceremony. Now a boy of one and ten, he is wise beyond his years, his sharp mind driven by a deep love for books and knowledge. Celeste, your first daughter, is nine years old — a whirlwind of wild, unrestrained energy that seems impossible to contain. Already, she’s been eagerly awaiting the day she can take to the skies on dragonback, her spirit far older than her years. Then there is Luna, your youngest and newest addition to the family, a radiant little soul who brings warmth and light into every corner of your life. She is the calm of the storm, a small but powerful source of joy that never fails to lift your spirits, no matter how heavy the burdens of the day.
Atticus is a good father, never neglecting his children. He is present in their lives, providing for them with steadfast love and care. As a husband, he is kind and dutiful. Yet, despite all his virtues, he is not the love of your life.
The two of you had come to an agreement early in your marriage: you were free to seek pleasure where you wished, as long as heirs were made with each other. It was a compromise, one that allowed you both to navigate the confines of your duty while maintaining some semblance of personal freedom.
Tragedy struck shortly after Celeste’s birth when King Aelyx succumbed to an unknown illness. The crown passed to Atticus, and with it came the immense burden of ruling the Seven Kingdoms.
With Atticus as king, you became Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Yet, unlike your husband, you did not feel the same pressure. Your days were mostly spent within the confines of your chambers, where the laughter and antics of your children filled your life with light and purpose. Despite never having known your own mother — she had died giving birth to you — you felt as though motherhood had always been your calling.
While you wouldn’t trade your life for anything in the world, motherhood came with its challenges. Ares and Celeste were at the age where they bickered endlessly over the smallest of things — whether it was toys, attention, or simply to see who could get on your nerves first. Their constant squabbles were a source of frustration, and yet you knew it was a phase they would eventually outgrow. Luna, on the other hand, still so small and newly born, could not seem to stop crying. Her wails often filled the castle, and while the maids were always close by, ready to assist, you never allowed them to. You wanted your daughter to find comfort in your arms, not anyone else’s.
There were days when calming her down felt like a losing battle, the hours stretching into what felt like an eternity. But when you finally succeeded, when her cries quieted and her tiny form melted into sleep, it filled you with a sense of accomplishment. It was a small victory in a life full of larger, weightier battles.
Fortunately, today was one of the easier days. Luna wasn’t feeling particularly fussy, and after a few gentle rocks and soft pats on her back, she fell asleep in your arms without much protest. Relief washed over you as you gazed down at her peaceful face, her tiny chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The soft warmth of her against you, the quiet of the room, made you feel like, for a moment, everything was right.
“Your Grace?”
A voice interrupted your quiet reverie, but you didn’t turn. Your eyes remained fixed on Luna, unwilling to break the fragile serenity of the moment. You hummed in response, acknowledging the speaker but unable to tear your gaze from your sleeping daughter.
“Your presence is wanted, though not required, Your Grace.”
The words draw you from your thoughts, and with a soft sigh, you finally turn to face the speaker. It’s the Lord Commander, standing tall and imposing, his armor catching the dim light filtering through the windows.
“What for?” you ask, your voice calm but laced with curiosity.
“The Kingsguard posting,” he replies, his tone formal, as always. “It’s been suggested that you select who will guard the Red Keep.”
You consider his words, your gaze drifting back to Luna, still fast asleep in your arms. The thought of placing your trust in someone else, of relying on others to protect what matters most, brings a weight to your chest. As a mother, your first instinct is always to shield your children. You would want nothing more than for them to roam the castle freely, knowing they were surrounded by those you trusted — those you handpicked.
“I suppose,” you murmur.
After carefully setting Luna in her crib, you linger for a moment, brushing a tender hand over her soft cheek. Ensuring the maids were nearby to watch over her, you quietly slip from the nursery and follow the Lord Commander through the castle's stone corridors. Your thoughts remain on Luna for a heartbeat longer before shifting to the matter at hand — choosing the knights who would guard your family, your children.
You arrive at the balcony overlooking the courtyard, where a line of knights stands at attention, their armor gleaming in the afternoon sun. The air is crisp, the tension palpable as each knight awaits his turn to be presented.
The Lord Commander steps forward, his voice ringing with authority. "Step forward, Ser Kim Namjoon."
The knight moves with a quiet confidence, offering you a small, almost shy smile. Dimples crease his cheeks, and despite the serious nature of the proceedings, you find yourself smiling back, charmed by the warmth in his expression.
"Ser Namjoon has proved strong and steady in both the tourney lists and in service beyond," the Lord Commander begins. "While traveling through the Kingswood on the way to King’s Landing, Ser Namjoon recently brought a would-be poacher to justice."
You listen carefully, considering the man before you. His loyalty and steadiness are clear, and his recent actions speak of a knight who serves with honor. Still, your mind drifts to a darker, more urgent thought — combat. The Red Keep, and more importantly, your children, needed knights who were not only honorable but battle hardened. In these uncertain times, loyalty alone would not be enough. 
"Ser Namjoon," you say, your voice polite yet measured. "We thank you for your loyal service to the Crown."
He bows deeply before stepping back into line, and you offer him a nod in return, though your thoughts continue to circle around the same question — how many of these knights had seen true combat?
The next knight steps forward, and your gaze narrows as you take him in.
"Ser Kim Seokjin," the Lord Commander announces.
This knight is taller, leaner than Namjoon. He holds himself with a quiet grace, his expression serious, but there's a spark of something beneath the surface — determination perhaps, or ambition.
"Winner of the melee at Cider Hall," the Lord Commander continues. "He was the last mounted of three and twenty knights. Ser Seokjin was knighted at eight and ten."
You raise an eyebrow, impressed by his accomplishments. Yet, your thoughts linger on something more pressing, more crucial to the protection of your family.
"Do any of these knights have combat experience?" you ask, your tone sharper now. "Beyond capturing poachers and winning tourneys?"
The Lord Commander nods solemnly, signaling the next candidate.
“Ser Jeon Jungkook.”
As the name is called, a young knight steps forward, noticeably younger than the others who had come before him. Yet, despite his youth, he carries himself with an air of quiet confidence, his steps measured and purposeful. Strands of raven hair fall loosely across his forehead, framing a face that, while youthful, is sharp with focus. His dark eyes meet yours with a steady gaze, neither too bold nor deferent — he stands unshaken by the weight of the moment.
He looks about your age, perhaps even younger, and though he lacks the grizzled scars of a seasoned warrior, something about him immediately draws your attention. There's a natural grace in the way he moves, his armor fitting him perfectly as if he was born to wear it. He’s quite handsome, a fact you can’t help but notice as he stands before you, the light of the setting sun casting a faint glow over his features.
"Tell me, Ser Jungkook," you say, breaking the silence, "have you seen real combat?"
He doesn’t falter, his voice steady as he speaks. "I have, Your Grace. I fought for a year as a foot soldier against the Dornish incursions. I was knighted after we razed two of the watchtowers along the Boneway.”
There is no hesitation in his tone, no embellishment. The quiet intensity of his words, the weight of lived experience behind them, strikes you deeply. His demeanor isn't that of a man seeking glory but of one who has already faced the fire and come out stronger for it. In that moment, your decision feels clear.
“It’s settled.” Your lips curve into a smile, one of certainty and satisfaction. “I choose Ser Jungkook.”
The Lord Commander stiffens slightly, his jaw tensing as though weighing whether to speak. Before you can take a step back toward your chambers, his voice interrupts, filled with respectful hesitation. "Perhaps we shouldn’t be too hasty, Your Grace. There is no doubt Ser Jungkook is a fine warrior, but Ser Namjoon and Ser Seokjin are from houses that are important allies of the Crown."
You turn slowly, your expression cool but firm. The politicking of the court — alliances, the endless exchange of favors and titles — was something you understood all too well. Yet, this was not a matter of alliances. This was the safety of your family, the future of your children. And no amount of courtly maneuvering could change that.
“Those men are tourney knights,” you say, your voice laced with a sharp edge. “My children should be defended by a man who’s known real combat. Should they not?”
The Lord Commander pauses, his gaze flickering between the knights and your unwavering stance. He gives a short bow, conceding. “Of course, Your Grace.”
You nod once, satisfied. “Very well, then,” you say, a smile returning to your face, though this time with a sense of finality. “I expect you to plan Ser Jungkook’s investiture.”
There’s a flicker of something in the Lord Commander’s eyes — perhaps begrudging respect or recognition of your authority in this matter. He bows once more before stepping aside. “As you wish, Your Grace. I will see to it.”
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As the days passed, it became clear that your decision to appoint Ser Jungkook was more than justified.
Jungkook proved himself an unwavering presence in the lives of your children. He guarded Ares and Celeste like a loyal hound, always at their side, his dark eyes constantly scanning their surroundings for any sign of danger. Wherever they went — whether it was the training yard where Ares spent hours practicing swordplay or the garden where Celeste attempted to name every flower — Jungkook followed, his sight never leaving them.
In the corridors of the Red Keep, you would often catch glimpses of him, stationed at the door to whatever chamber Ares and Celeste had wandered into, standing with that same quiet intensity that first caught your attention. He never intruded upon their activities, never interfered with their games, but his presence was felt all the same. He was a silent sentinel, ensuring that no one entered or exited a room without his knowledge.
Even the servants and court members began to take note, offering respectful nods as they passed him. There was a certain respect that began to build around Jungkook, not just as a knight, but as a protector of the royal family — of your family.
Before Ser Jungkook’s arrival, the Red Keep had always felt secure. Its towering walls and seasoned guards provided a fortress of safety, a place where danger rarely crossed your mind. Yet, somehow, with Jungkook’s arrival, there was a new, tangible sense of protection. His presence, quiet yet vigilant, added an extra layer of assurance, as if the very air had shifted, growing thicker with safety, steadier with his watchful eye. He didn’t need to speak or make grand gestures; just knowing he was there, standing mere feet away from you, made the castle feel more fortified than it ever had before.
In many ways, he made you feel like that too — protected, even in the smallest, unspoken ways.
The Small Council was always the most grueling part of your day. Despite your title as Queen, you found yourself constantly sidelined, your voice often drowned out by the men who dominated the discussions. You had grown accustomed to their subtle condescension — the way they’d nod and pretend to listen, only to carry on as if your words had never been spoken. You’d learned to expect it, but the sting of dismissal never faded entirely.
And today was no different.
As you took your seat, Jungkook stood nearby, ever the silent sentinel. He’d grown adept at reading you, his dark eyes keenly observing the smallest shift in your demeanor. He noticed how, at first, you entered the room with a composed grace, ready to engage in the matters at hand. But as the meeting dragged on, frustration began to creep in, visible in the slight tightening of your jaw each time a man at the table spoke over you or dismissed your suggestions with a polite but infuriating nod.
Jungkook’s eyes followed the subtle changes — the way your posture stiffened, the soft sigh you tried to suppress, and then, finally, the way boredom started to settle in as you reached for the small stone ball on the table, rolling it between your fingers absentmindedly. He knew you were doing your best to remain patient, but the disrespect weighed heavily in the room.
His hand instinctively twitched at his side, a protective instinct rising within him as he stood there watching. He was ready to intervene if the moment called for it, though he knew better than to step in unless absolutely necessary. Still, his silent support was palpable, a reassuring presence amidst the clamor of men who failed to see the strength in the woman before them.
“Perhaps we should discuss Driftmark, Your Grace,” the Maester began, his voice too casual for the gravity of the subject. He directed his attention toward your husband, but the mention of Driftmark instantly drew you in, pulling you from your growing boredom. You straightened in your seat, the defensiveness in your posture clear.
“What of it?” Your voice came out sharper than you intended, the raw emotion behind it hard to suppress. Driftmark wasn’t just a topic for idle conversation — it was family. Personal. The loss of the Lord of the Tides, your cousin’s husband, had been a blow that still lingered, and the aftermath of it weighed heavily on your heart.
He had been more than just family; he had adored your children as if they were his own, even naming your daughter, Celeste, as his heir. It was an honor, though one with its own set of complications. With Ares set to inherit the Iron Throne, Celeste was to inherit Driftmark. Your cousin, devastated by the loss of her husband and without heirs of her own, was to hold the seat in her stead until Celeste came of age.
The Maester’s eyes flickered between you and your husband, clearly aware of the tension in the room but too entrenched in his own position to approach the subject delicately. He cleared his throat, then spoke with a tone that bordered on patronizing. “It’s... a delicate matter, Your Grace. There are those who believe the succession should be reconsidered, given your daughter’s age. Furthermore, some question the wisdom of naming a girl as heir to such a powerful seat.”
Your stomach tightened, fury simmering beneath the surface. A girl. As if Celeste’s age or gender diminished her worth, her potential. You could feel the disdain, not just for your daughter, but for the very idea of a woman wielding such power.
You held the Maester’s gaze, your voice sharp with barely concealed fury. “And do you agree with them?”
The chamber seemed to freeze in that moment, the weight of your words pressing down on everyone in the room. All eyes flickered nervously between you and the Maester, the tension palpable as if even the air had thickened, making it harder to breathe. Everyone braced themselves for the confrontation that was surely coming.
The Maester, sensing the chance to finally reveal his true thoughts, straightened in his seat, his chest puffing out as arrogance replaced caution. He no longer glanced toward your husband for approval; instead, his focus was solely on you, his eyes glinting with condescension.
“A woman on the Driftwood Throne, Your Grace?” he repeated, his voice dripping with condescension. “Forgive my candor, but Driftmark is not some soft and delicate estate. It is a seat of warriors, sailors, men of the sea and battle. Its history is steeped in strength and tradition. To put a mere girl — no matter her bloodline — on that chair is folly, plain and simple. A woman’s place is in the home, tending to hearth and children, not commanding fleets or sitting in council chambers. The late Lord has a brother who would make a fine new Lord, more befitting the legacy.”
You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, your hands tightening into fists. “His brother has no desire for rule!” you shot back, your temper dangerously close to boiling over. “Celeste is his rightful heir. It was his wish, and it will not be questioned!”
The Maester, unfazed, continues. “Your Grace… with all due respect, your daughter is but a child. A girl of her age should be concerned with dolls and dresses, not the governance of a seat as vital as Driftmark. There are many in the realm who would argue that Driftmark deserves a stronger hand. A male heir, one capable of steering the course of the future, as tradition demands. Perhaps it is time to reconsider your decision, before it’s too late. Before the realm begins to question not only Driftmark’s future, but the Queen’s judgment as well.”
The insult hung in the air like a storm cloud, casting a heavy, suffocating tension over the room. The audacity — the sheer gall of the Maester to question not only your daughter’s right but your authority as Queen. Fury simmered beneath your composed exterior, your hand twitching as though you might lash out.
But before you could muster a response, Jungkook was already moving.
“You will watch your tongue when speaking to the Queen, Maester,” Jungkook’s voice was a low, dangerous rumble, carrying the unmistakable weight of a threat. His usually calm demeanor was gone, replaced by something far more menacing. “Or it shall be taken from you.”
The room seemed to shrink around the Maester, all eyes now on him as the color drained from his face. His earlier arrogance dissolved in an instant, replaced with wide-eyed panic. The man who had dared to question your daughter’s birthright now looked as though he might faint from fear.
“I- I meant no offense, Ser Jungkook,” the Maester stammered, his words tumbling over themselves in a desperate attempt to backpedal. His gaze flickered nervously from you to Jungkook, searching for some kind of escape.
“You did,” Jungkook cut him off sharply, his tone like the edge of a blade. His gaze bore into the Maester, unyielding, unwavering. “And I will remind you once more: mind your tongue.”
The silence that followed was deafening, the threat hanging in the air like a blade, and no one doubted that Jungkook would make good on his promise if pushed further.
You turned your gaze to Jungkook, barely concealing your silent shock. The man who stood just feet away, usually so quiet and composed, always speaking only when spoken to, had stepped in to defend you — boldly, without hesitation. The gesture was unexpected, and for a moment, you were struck by the kindness and protectiveness it held.
It was not just the words he had spoken, but the intensity behind them, the clear signal that he would tolerate no disrespect toward you. In a room full of lords and courtiers who often dismissed your voice, Jungkook’s sudden defense felt like a rare and precious show of loyalty. Uncommon as it was, it left a warmth spreading in your chest, a silent but deeply felt appreciation.
Jungkook still hadn’t met your eyes, his intense gaze fixed on the Maester, the disapproval and disgust etched in his expression radiating an aura so fierce, it was almost frightening. He stood there like a wall of steel, silently daring anyone to challenge him again.
You turned your attention back to the Maester, who now squirmed under the weight of the moment. His once confident, condescending exterior had crumbled, now sitting timidly in his seat.
“Celeste is the rightful heir,” you stated, your voice even and composed, though laced with quiet authority. “She will rule Driftmark, and she will do so just as well as any man ever could. Anyone who questions that,” you paused, allowing the weight of your words to settle over the room, “will regret it.”
The Maester lowered his head, unable to meet your gaze, his earlier arrogance completely shattered. “Of course, Your Grace. Please, forgive my words.”
Jungkook didn’t move an inch, his focus still locked onto the Maester like a hawk waiting for the slightest wrong move. The room felt smaller, the tension almost suffocating as the Maester’s earlier confidence reduced to a pitiful murmur.
“See that you don’t forget that again,” you said, your tone final and cold, leaving no room for further argument.
With that, you stood up from your seat, the weight of the moment still hanging heavy in the air. Without another word, you turned on your heel and made your way out of the courtroom, every step deliberate, your posture unyielding. The entire room seemed to hold its breath as you moved, a quiet power radiating from you that demanded respect.
Jungkook, as ever, was by your side in an instant, but he kept a respectful distance, just enough to remain a silent protector, his presence still like a shield around you. His footsteps were measured, the sound of his boots echoing softly in the corridors, and yet there was an undeniable sense of security in the space between you two. No words were exchanged as you made your way to your chamber — there was no need for them. His silent solidarity was all you required.
Jungkook’s presence was reassuring, like the calm after a storm, and it made the weight of leadership — of being Queen — just a little easier to bear.
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After the heat of earlier’s events, the last thing you wanted was to step foot back into the chaos of the court. The weight of the Maester’s words still lingered in the air, and you felt the need to retreat, to recharge in the only place that felt truly like yours. So, you didn’t leave your chambers for the rest of the day. You took the rare opportunity to unwind, the need for solitude outweighing any further obligations for the day.
Without a second thought, you changed into your nightgown well before the moon rose, the soft fabric a welcome contrast to the tense weight of your court attire. You moved with practiced ease, the familiar ritual of shedding the day’s responsibilities easing the knots in your shoulders. 
The fire crackled merrily in the hearth, casting a warm glow that danced across the room. You sank into the couch, the cushions molding to your body as you settled in front of the flames. With a book in hand, you opened the pages, the words inviting you into another world — a world where you could forget, if only for a moment, the burdens of being Queen.
You lost yourself in the story, the flicker of the fire keeping time with the rhythm of your reading. Outside your window, the castle was quiet, the usual noise of the corridors muted by the sanctuary of your chamber. For the first time that day, you felt a sense of peace. The world outside could wait. Here, in the comfort of your own space, you could simply be.
But just as the fire’s soft, flickering glow began to lull you deeper into peace, a knock at the door broke the fragile silence, its sound sharp and intrusive. A flicker of annoyance stirred within you — someone daring to interrupt the quiet sanctuary of your evening. But then, a familiar voice, calm and steady, followed.
“Your Grace?”
It’s him.
You took a slow breath, the irritation melting away at the sound of his voice, and called softly, “Come in, Ser Jungkook.”
The door creaked open, but Jungkook didn’t immediately step inside. He stood just beyond the threshold, his tall frame framed by the dim light spilling from the hall, casting long shadows across the stone floor. There was something endearing in the way he paused there, as though uncertain, hesitating to cross the boundary of your private space without your explicit permission. His respect for the sanctity of your chambers was something rare, a simple act that made him stand out even more.
“My apologies, Your Grace,” he said, his voice smooth and steady, like the evening air itself. “I’ve just come to alert you that the children are abed.”
A soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips.
What you didn’t know was that the children had been in bed for some time. Jungkook had only alerted you now because he was standing just outside your door, hesitating. He wasn’t sure if he should disturb your peace with the news. Still new to this role, he was uncertain of how to balance his duties with the delicate art of discretion.
“Thank you, Ser Jungkook,” you said, your tone warm with gratitude. “I would appreciate it if you informed me every night from now on.”
“Of course, Your Grace. Sleep well.” Jungkook gave a respectful nod, his voice as steady and sincere as ever, and he turned to leave.
“Ser Jungkook,” you called again, before he could close the door behind him.
He paused, hand resting lightly on the doorframe, his dark eyes meeting yours in the soft, flickering firelight. For a brief moment, the noise of the castle seemed to fall away, the crackling fire the only sound that filled the space between you. It was rare, these moments of true stillness, where it was just the two of you, no interruptions, no duties weighing on either of your shoulders. The warmth from the fire cast a soft glow over him, accentuating the quiet strength in his features.
For the first time, you found yourself truly looking at him — not just the protector of your children, not just the present knight, but Jungkook. 
“I’ve yet to thank you for earlier — in the Small Council chamber,” you said softly, your voice quiet but earnest. “I appreciate your defense. Thank you.”
The words hung between you for a moment, carrying a weight that felt heavier than it should. It wasn’t just the defense itself, though that was significant; it was the quiet way he had stood up for you. Jungkook had always been the silent one, always just there, standing in the background. But today, he had been more. He had spoken when no one else had. His simple act of defending you meant more than you could say.
Jungkook’s posture softened at your words, though his expression remained composed, his usual stoic demeanor intact. Yet, as he held your gaze, his dark eyes seemed to linger a moment longer than usual, a subtle warmth settling in his look that wasn’t often there. It was as though the space between you both had shifted, the heavy tension of the day dissolving into something quieter, almost comforting.
“It was nothing, Your Grace. You need not thank me,” he replied, his voice low and measured, though there was something beneath it — something genuine, almost vulnerable, that made the words feel different from his usual calm, detached responses. His eyes remained steady on yours, and for a moment, the usual distance between you seemed to shrink, as though he was offering something unspoken, something more than just a knight’s duty. “You shouldn’t have to endure that kind of disrespect. It’s my duty to protect you, in all ways.”
You gave a soft nod, absorbing the weight of his words. Jungkook was a constant in your life — a silent guardian who stood watch over both your children and yourself. But hearing him speak of protecting you in such a way, so plainly and honestly, stirred something within you. It wasn’t just your children that mattered to him; it was you, as well. 
“You do more than protect,” you said, your voice softer now, the weariness of the day gradually easing. “Your actions today… they meant more than you know.”
Jungkook’s lips twitched at the corners, acknowledging your words, but he didn’t respond right away. There was a brief silence between you both, the fire’s crackling embers filling the stillness as he shifted his weight, his stance still as rigid as ever, but now, a slight tension in his shoulders had eased.
“If there’s ever anything you need, Your Grace,” he said finally, his tone softer than it had been moments before, but with an underlying firmness that conveyed his commitment, “I am here.”
The sincerity in his voice wrapped around you like a quiet promise, steady and unwavering. The light of the fire caught on his features, casting soft shadows over his face, making his usually guarded expression seem less distant, more human. You felt a sense of peace settling into the space between you both, a momentary connection that felt more genuine than anything that had passed between you in the public eye.
“Thank you,” you replied softly, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips, finding comfort in the rare, honest exchange.
Jungkook inclined his head once more, his expression softening in a way that was unusual for him — a small, but genuine smile curling his lips, the warmth of it making him seem more approachable, more... real.
“Goodnight, Your Grace,” he said quietly, voice full of respect, but also something else — something deeper.
“Goodnight, Ser Jungkook,” you murmured in return.
With that, he turned and moved to close the door behind him, the soft click of the latch signaling his departure. But as the door clicked shut, you realized that this time, you didn’t feel the usual solitude. There was something different. Something comforting. Something exciting that made the pit of your stomach feel funny, in knowing he was standing just outside your door.
Just the barrier of wood between you two.
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The next day unfolded much more peacefully than the last. 
You sat on the floor of your chamber, the luxurious fabric of your gown pooling around you like a soft sea of silk. The quiet of the room was comforting as you focused on the delicate task in front of you — embroidering a blanket for Luna. Each stitch was a calming motion, your mind momentarily free of the weight of royal duties. 
You hadn’t seen Jungkook yet, but his presence lingered in your thoughts, like an unspoken promise. The anticipation of his arrival stirred a quiet excitement within you, though you had no idea when he might appear. 
The silence was broken by your husband's voice, cutting through the peaceful air as he entered without knocking, his tone casual. “How are you feeling today?”
You glanced up briefly, meeting his eyes before returning to your work. “Better,” you answered, the edges of your lips curving into a faint smile.
“Good,” Atticus replied, smirking as he made his way over to the table and poured himself a goblet of wine. “Do you think you’ll be attending the Small Council today?”
You hesitated, the thought of sitting through another long, tedious session filling you with a quiet reluctance. “No… if that’s alright?” you replied, your tone tentative, not wanting to seem too dismissive of his suggestion.
“Of course,” Atticus said, lifting the goblet to his lips. His eyes gleamed with a hint of mischief as he added, “But I’ll have you know, I’ve hired a new Maester.”
The words hit you like a spark, and without thinking, you put your needle down. The sudden shift in the conversation caught your attention fully. Your eyes locked onto him, eyebrows raised in surprise. The idea of a new Maester was unexpected — and it immediately piqued your curiosity.
"Are you upset about that?" you asked, your voice soft and laced with a hint of apology, eyes searching his face for any sign of how he truly felt.
Atticus paused, his gaze meeting yours with a quiet intensity. His lips curled into a knowing smirk, and he set the goblet down gently on the table. "I could never be upset with you for only standing up for yourself," he said, his voice steady, though there was an underlying heat to his words. "And someone as disrespectful as that will not continue to walk around in this castle."
His declaration was resolute, filled with a quiet determination. The confidence in his voice was not just from his position, but from a place of deep respect for you. It was as if he had taken the full weight of your frustration upon himself, and the fire behind his words showed that he would do whatever it took to ensure you never had to endure such treatment again. 
You smile warmly at his words. "Thank you, Atticus."
He pauses, a small smile tugging at his lips, his fingers tapping idly on the edge of the table. "You know, as much as I’m not in love with you," he says slowly, his tone more thoughtful than usual, "I still love you."
The admission hangs in the air between you, the raw honesty in his voice bringing a quiet comfort. It wasn't the passionate declaration of romance you might have hoped for, but it was the kind of love that ran deep — steady, consistent, unshakable. 
You meet his gaze, and your heart softens with understanding. "As do I," you reply, your voice gentle but genuine. 
It wasn’t the kind of love that others might expect, filled with grand gestures and whispered sweet nothings. But in its own way, it was a love that had stood the test of time. It isn’t passionate, but there’s a respect and understanding between the two of you that runs deep.
“Now,” Atticus says, his voice low, teasing. “Can we talk about your knight in shining armor?”
You roll your eyes but can’t suppress the smirk that tugs at your lips. “Oh Gods,” you say, the edge of amusement clear in your voice as you go back to your needlework.
“Oh, come on,” he whines, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. “I let you pick, now you have to tell me all about him!”
You raise an eyebrow, glancing up at him. “It was you who suggested I pick?”
He shrugs nonchalantly, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “I thought you’d feel more content choosing someone yourself.”
“I do,” you reply with a small smile, returning to your embroidery. “It was a wise suggestion.”
“Oh, don’t change the subject now!” He motions with a dramatic hand. “What was that about yesterday?”
“He was just defending me,” you say, hoping to dismiss the conversation, though you’re well aware it won’t be that easy.
Atticus lets out an exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes in dramatic fashion. “No knight is that devoted to duty, my dear wife.”
His words make you pause, but you try not to let it show. Still, a smile begins to creep onto your lips, unbidden. You hadn’t really allowed yourself to think about it that way. Jungkook had always been quiet, loyal, reliable — but devoted in the way Atticus is hinting? It’s a thought that stirs something unexpected in you.
“Well, believe it or not,” you say, unable to stop the small grin now, “we’ve spoken to each other only a few times.”
Atticus raises an eyebrow, leaning in slightly, clearly entertained. “Is that so? And yet, with little words between you, he’s ready to challenge a room full of lords for your honor. Fascinating.”
You roll your eyes, returning to your needlework in an attempt to focus, but your mind can’t help but drift back to Jungkook. The memory of his voice, steady and unyielding as he defended you, lingers. Maybe Atticus has a point, but admitting that would only fuel his relentless teasing.
“He’s just dutiful,” you insist, though even you can hear the uncertainty creeping into your voice. 
Atticus catches it too, and his smirk widens as he takes a slow, deliberate sip from his goblet. “Dutiful because he loves his duty? Or because of you?”
Your cheeks flush instantly, the warmth creeping up your neck as you try to brush off the insinuation. “You’re reading into this too much,” you mumble, focusing on the embroidery in your lap, though your needlework suddenly seems less interesting.
“Am I?” Atticus drawls, stepping closer, his tone playful but probing. “Did you solely choose him because of his skills?”
You glance up at him briefly, trying to suppress a smile. “Are you implying something?”
He shrugs, the smirk on his lips widening. “Well, did you?”
“I did!” you exclaim, the words tumbling out a little too quickly, as if you’re trying to convince yourself as much as him. You glance up at Atticus, catching the amused gleam in his eyes. “He’s excellent with the children, and he strikes the perfect balance around here — intimidating enough to make it clear no one should challenge him, but not so much that the children are frightened. I trust him completely, and I’ve only known him a short while.”
Atticus hums, swirling the wine in his goblet with deliberate slowness before taking a sip, his skepticism apparent in the slight arch of his brow.
You shake your head, sighing lightly. “He’s proven his worth,” you say, trying to sound firm, though the soft smile that sneaks onto your lips betrays you. “It’s his abilities that matter.”
Atticus grins, thoroughly enjoying this exchange. “Of course, his abilities. And it’s just a coincidence that the knight you trust with our children’s safety also happens to be rather… easy on the eyes?”
You scoff, rolling your eyes, though the warmth spreading through your chest betrays your amusement. “His appearance has nothing to do with why I chose him,” you insist, though your tone has lost its edge, becoming playful and light. “He’s capable, loyal, and vigilant. His looks are irrelevant.”
Atticus raises an eyebrow, his smirk widening into a knowing grin. “Irrelevant, but not unnoticed?”
You shoot him a mock glare, though the smile tugging at your lips makes it hard to maintain any seriousness. “You’re impossible,” you say with a shake of your head. “I care about his skills and nothing more.”
Atticus chuckles softly, clearly entertained. “We shall see,” he teases, his voice lingering in the air as he begins to make his exit. His steps are slow, unhurried, as though he’s savoring the moment. 
He walks out with a lightness in his stride, and the faint echo of his laughter trails behind him, leaving you alone with your thoughts — and the quiet, unsettling realization that maybe, just maybe, his words weren’t entirely off the mark.
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Returning to the Small Council felt different this time. The atmosphere had shifted. The men were more considerate, actually taking your opinions into account — a stark contrast to their usual dismissiveness. It seemed Atticus’ harsh punishment of the last Maester had sent a clear message: disrespect would no longer be tolerated. They were treading carefully now, not wanting to find themselves in a similar predicament.
You exhaled a long breath as you walked into your chamber, ready to unwind after the tense day. Removing your jewelry, you placed each piece delicately on the table, the soft clink of metal filling the otherwise quiet room. You went to bend down to slip off your shoes, eager for the relief of the cool floor beneath your feet.
But before you could, a sharp point suddenly pressed against your neck.
You froze.
Panic surged through you as the cold blade pressed harder against your skin, the world around you narrowing to the sound of your racing heartbeat.
“Don’t scream,” a low voice hissed in your ear, breath hot against your skin, “or you will die.”
Your breath hitched, the threat sinking in, terror flooding your veins. Tears welled in your eyes as helplessness gripped you. You had never felt so vulnerable, so utterly at the mercy of another.
The man spun you around with a jerk, and your gaze landed on another figure lurking in the shadows — both were dressed in the rough, dirt stained garb of rat catchers, but their eyes gleamed with intent far darker than pest control.
“We were paid to kill the little girl,” the man growled, his eyes boring into yours with malicious purpose. “The one who is set to inherit Driftmark. Where is she?”
Your heart stopped. They wanted Celeste. Your daughter. 
Desperation clawed at your insides, but you forced yourself to remain calm, though your voice trembled as you spoke. “I have many things in here of great value,” you said, your mind racing to stall, to buy any time you could. “You can take whatever you want. Jewelry, gold…”
The man sneered, pressing the blade just a fraction closer, enough to make your skin prickle with fear. “We’re not here for trinkets,” he spat. “We’re here for the girl.”
The suffocating pressure eased as the man shoved you away, though he kept his dagger trained on you, its sharp point a constant threat.
“Lead us to her,” he snarled, “and you will live.”
Your pulse quickened, panic rising. But amid the terror, you clung to one thought: Jungkook was just outside, standing guard by the children’s room. He would protect Celeste.
Heart pounding, you forced your legs to move, stepping cautiously toward the door of your chamber. The rat catchers followed closely, one of them pressing the dagger against your back, a constant reminder of the danger lurking just inches away.
By the time you reached the door, your eyes caught a glimpse of movement. Jungkook — his back against the wood, waiting, ready. His gaze met yours, and in that brief moment, you felt a surge of relief, but it was fleeting.
Before you could react, Jungkook sprang into action. In a heartbeat, he grabbed your arm and yanked you behind him, shielding you with his body. You stumbled backward, watching in awe as he unsheathed his sword with deadly precision. 
Jungkook wasted no time. His blade sank deep into the stomach of the first rat catcher, a sickening thud echoing in the hallway. The man gasped, blood spurting from the wound, and crumpled to the floor.
The second assailant, wild with desperation, swung his dagger wildly at Jungkook. But Jungkook moved with lethal grace, dodging each strike effortlessly. His movements were swift, controlled, each step calculated. In one fluid motion, he caught the man's wrist mid swing, twisting it with a force that made the man cry out in pain. Jungkook’s grip tightened, and with a brutal efficiency, he forced the attacker to plunge the dagger into his own abdomen.
The man’s eyes widened in shock, the weapon lodged deep within him, his strength faltering. Jungkook released him, and the second rat catcher staggered before collapsing to the ground beside his companion, both of them now lying in pools of their own blood.
In shock, you stood frozen, tears welling in your eyes as the reality of the moment crashed over you. Only a minute ago, you had feared for your life, for your family’s lives. And now, Jungkook had effortlessly put an end to the rat catchers, his blade on the ground still stained with their blood. It all felt too surreal, too close.
Before you could fully process what had happened, Jungkook rushed to you, his expression softening with concern. He cupped your face gently in his hands, his touch grounding you. “Your Grace? Are you hurt?” His voice was low but urgent, his eyes scanning you for any sign of injury.
You shook your head, still unable to find your voice, too overwhelmed by everything. Your heart pounded, your throat tight as you struggled to keep yourself together.
“You’re alright now,” Jungkook whispered, his thumbs brushing tenderly across your cheeks. “Everything’s okay.”
But it wasn’t. The fear, the relief, the gratitude — they all hit you at once, overwhelming your senses. And before you knew it, your emotions spilled over. You erupted into sobs, throwing your arms around Jungkook’s neck, seeking the warmth and safety of his presence. You buried your face into his skin, your tears dripping onto his armor as you cried.
Jungkook didn’t hesitate for a second. His arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you close to him, his strength and warmth offering the comfort you so desperately needed. One of his hands rubbed soothingly up and down your back while the other cradled your head, pressing you gently against his chest. His heartbeat, steady and strong, was the only thing keeping you grounded amidst the chaos of your emotions.
“Shh, it’s alright,” he murmured into your hair, his voice soft and calming. “You’re safe now.”
And in that moment, in his arms, you believed him.
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After Atticus learned about the rat catchers’ attack, his fury was swift and intense, shaking the very walls of the Red Keep. His voice thundered from the Small Council chamber, echoing through the halls as he took command of the situation. His anger wasn’t just justified — it was terrifying. No one dared stand in his way as he set out to make sure something like this could never happen again.
You sat in your children’s room, seeking comfort in their innocent presence. Even as you tried to calm your racing heart, the distant roar of Atticus’s orders only heightened the gravity of what had nearly occurred. He wasted no time doubling the guard, placing knights at every vulnerable corner of the Keep. The added protection was meant to reassure, but for you, it only underscored the severity of the danger that had almost taken your daughter.
Atticus was relentless in his pursuit of justice. He immediately dispatched his men to find out who had hired the rat catchers. It wasn’t long before the truth came out — your former Maester hadn’t been acting alone. There were more, many more, who shared his poisonous view that Celeste, your little girl, had no right to inherit Driftmark. These men, clinging to their outdated belief that only a man should rule, had conspired to end her life before she could ever sit upon the Driftwood Throne.
Those who were caught speaking against Celeste’s claim were dealt with harshly. Atticus showed no mercy. He threw them in the dungeons without a second thought, ensuring that any who dared oppose your daughter’s future would be silenced. In this, he was steadfast, and you were grateful for his fierce protection of your family.
But even with the threat supposedly contained, the fear hadn’t left you. That night still clung to you like a dark shadow, creeping into your thoughts when you least expected it. The memory of those men — of their knives and their cruel threats — replayed in your mind every night, a loop you couldn’t break free from. 
Sleep was becoming harder to find. You would lie awake, staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of the attack pressing down on your chest. Even with Jungkook stationed just outside your door, standing as your silent guardian, the sense of unease never fully faded. You trusted him more than anyone now, knowing he had saved you without hesitation, but your mind couldn’t silence the what ifs. What if something happened to him? What if the guards missed something? What if they came back?
Tonight was no different. The room was quiet, your children safe in their beds, but your thoughts raced. Every creak of the floorboards, every gust of wind outside felt like a reminder of how close you had come to losing everything. You sat up in bed, pulling your knees to your chest, trying to calm the storm within. 
Jungkook was right outside the door — so close, and yet, the fear lingered. You knew he wouldn’t let anything happen to you, but that night had changed everything. The vulnerability, the terror, had been too real, and you couldn’t just forget it. Even though the Red Keep was locked down, even though Atticus had done everything in his power to keep you safe, you were haunted by the thought that danger still lurked just out of sight.
You couldn’t sleep. The quiet room, the stillness, your own thoughts circling endlessly — it was too much. You knew that tonight, like so many others, you’d be awake until the sun rose. So, with a sigh, you slipped out of bed, crossed the room, and quietly opened the door.
And there he was.
Jungkook stood just outside, his back to you, ever vigilant. When the door creaked softly, he turned, eyes meeting yours. In the faint light of the moon, his features were softened, yet his gaze was alert, concerned. The gleam in his eyes caught the moonlight, and for just a moment, the comfort of his presence made the world feel a little less daunting.
“Your Grace?” he asked, his voice low but steady. “I thought you’d be abed by now.”
“I can’t sleep,” you admitted, your voice quiet but laden with the weight of sleepless nights and endless worry.
“You’re safe now,” he said gently, his tone firm yet soothing, as if trying to will your mind to find peace. “Allow yourself to rest.”
You managed a faint smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “You said you’d be here if I ever needed anything.”
His brows furrowed slightly as he nodded, understanding your unspoken request. “I did.”
You hesitated only briefly before speaking again, your voice softer now. “Can you come in?”
Jungkook’s eyes widened ever so slightly, and he straightened. “Your Grace, I hardly think that is appropriate,” he replied, though his tone was more uncertain than firm. His sense of duty and propriety clashed visibly with his desire to help you.
“It will comfort me,” you said, the vulnerability in your voice enough to make him falter.
He hesitated, clearly torn. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword as if it could ground him in the face of your request. His loyalty to you was absolute, but the boundaries of it were something he grappled with now.
Seeing his hesitation, you added, teasing softly, “Your Queen demands you.”
That earned you a small smile, one that softened the tension in the air. Jungkook shook his head, chuckling under his breath as he conceded. “Well, who am I to deny my Queen?” he said, stepping past the threshold.
As Jungkook entered the room, his mere presence brought with it a sense of security you hadn’t even realized you’d been yearning for. His eyes never left yours, filled with a mix of concern and quiet understanding, as you led him over to the couch by the fireplace. 
You settled yourself on one side, pulling a blanket over your legs as you crossed them beneath its warmth. When you glanced up, you noticed he hadn’t joined you yet. Instead, he stood a little distance away, unsure, his posture stiff as if still on duty.
“Sit,” you gestured to the empty space beside you.
He hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering to the door as if he still wasn’t sure this was the right thing to do. But your gentle command was enough to sway him. With a slight nod, he moved closer, his heavy footsteps softening as he reached the couch. Just as he was about to sit, you spoke again, your voice quiet but firm.
“Take off your armor.”
He froze, eyes wide as if caught off guard by your request. “Your Grace,” he said slowly, his tone almost a warning, a reminder of the boundary he believed needed to remain in place.
But you shook your head, your expression soft but insistent. “I don’t want you here as Ser Jungkook,” you explained, your voice carrying a vulnerability you hadn’t meant to reveal. “I want you here just as Jungkook.”
For a moment, he didn’t move, clearly torn between his sense of duty and the comfort you were asking for. But then, with a slow exhale, he began to unfasten the clasps of his armor, the metallic clinks filling the otherwise quiet room. Piece by piece, the weight of it fell away, and he set it aside, each movement careful and deliberate.
Jungkook looked at you, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips as he gestured to his cloak. "If you would," he said softly, his eyes warm but with a hint of playful mischief.
You couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a bit lighter as you stood from the couch, the blanket slipping from your lap and pooling onto the floor. Your fingers brushed against his as you reached for the clasp of his cloak, feeling the cool metal as you carefully undid it. The fabric was thick and heavy, and as you pulled it off his shoulders, it seemed to take with it some of the invisible barrier he kept between you both.
The air between you felt different now, more intimate, as you set his cloak aside with the rest of his armor. When you turned back to face him, he was watching you closely, his expression softer than before, as if seeing you in a new light.
For a second, you just stood there, gazing at each other in the soft glow of the fire.
Now, without the weight of his armor, Jungkook looked more relaxed, his shoulders less tense, though there was still a quiet alertness in his posture. When you invited him to sit, he did so without hesitation this time, his expression softening as he settled next to you on the couch.
As the fire crackled gently beside you, casting a warm glow over the room, you found yourself seeing him differently. Here, sitting in your chambers, with the walls of duty momentarily lowered, Jungkook wasn’t just your knight anymore. He was a man — kind, steady, and unexpectedly gentle in his presence.
“I’ve not been able to sleep as of late,” you admitted, your voice quieter, more vulnerable than you intended. “But with you here... I feel safe.”
Jungkook’s smile was soft, a flicker of warmth that reached his eyes. “I’m happy to hear that,” he said, though his voice was still laced with the respectful formality he always carried. “Your Grace.”
You hesitated for a moment, then spoke your name, more firmly this time. “Use my name. The formalities can stay with your armor… Jungkook.”
The moment hung between you, quiet but significant. When he repeated your name, his voice was different, softer, almost intimate. It felt personal, as if you were the only thing that mattered in this room, in this moment.
Your heart fluttered hearing your name on his lips. The way he said it felt more intimate than you’d expected, and as the quiet settled around you both, you realized the walls between you were coming down even more.
“My mother died when I was four and ten,” Jungkook begins, his voice steady but carrying the weight of years of grief. “She was murdered right in front of me. I was weak, untrained... I couldn’t help her. I just stood there, frozen, and I couldn’t save her.” He pauses, his gaze distant, lost in the painful memory. “When I left the children’s chamber to go guard yours and I saw those rat catchers in there… I knew I couldn’t let you down like I did my mother. I couldn’t let that happen again.”
Your heart clenches and your brows knit in sorrow, completely torn by his story. His words hang heavy in the air, the realization of his past weighing on your chest. You feel both gratitude and guilt — glad that Jungkook trusts you enough to open up, yet heartbroken by the trauma he’s lived through.
It suddenly makes sense — why he’s always so guarded, so precise, so fiercely loyal. You understand now why he was trained in combat at such a young age, why he’s so vigilant, and why he holds himself to such a high standard. His devotion to you, his protection of your family, it all stems from a promise he made to himself long ago, a promise born from tragedy.
You reach out, placing a gentle hand on his arm resting on the back of the couch, your touch warm and comforting. Jungkook’s gaze flickers to where your hand rests on his arm, and then back to your face, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.
“You’ve done well to uphold that promise,” you say softly, your voice filled with sincerity. As your eyes meet his, you offer him a genuine smile, hoping it conveys the compassion you feel. “Your mother would love the man you’ve grown to be, Jungkook.”
For a brief moment, Jungkook’s eyes soften, his usual stoic expression breaking. He looks almost vulnerable, as if the weight he carries is shared, if only for a second.
“Thank you,” he says softly, his voice low and sincere. “I find myself very… protective over you.”
You tilt your head slightly, a teasing smile curling at the corners of your lips. The soft glow of the fire casts a warm light over your face, and your eyes seem to shimmer with curiosity. “Why is that?” you ask, a playful lilt to your tone as you watch him.
Jungkook hesitates for a beat, his dark eyes holding yours. He slowly pulls his arm away, the loss of contact leaving your skin colder than you expected. But before you can fully miss the warmth, you feel the feather light touch of his fingertips brushing down your arm. His touch is slow, deliberate, sending a tingling sensation across your skin, awakening something inside you.
Your breath catches as his fingers trail lower, the gentle path they take igniting a flutter in your chest. When his hand finally finds yours, his touch is warm and firm, his fingers lacing with yours like it was meant to be all along.
Jungkook looks down at your joined hands, his thumb brushing tenderly over the back of your hand as if testing the waters. “It’s more than duty now,” he murmurs, his voice soft but filled with something deeper. He looks up, his eyes meeting yours, and you can see the vulnerability there, something raw and unguarded. “I can’t explain it fully, but… it’s like you’ve become more than just someone I’m sworn to protect.”
His gaze lingers on your face, searching for a reaction, and you feel a mix of emotions swirling within you — curiosity, anticipation, and something that feels dangerously close to longing.
Your lips part slightly, your heart hammering in your chest as the room feels smaller, the air between you thick with unspoken tension. “More than duty?” you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper.
Jungkook’s fingers tighten just a little around yours, grounding you in the moment. His eyes soften, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yes… much more than duty,” he says, his voice tender yet filled with a quiet intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.
The fire crackles softly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the walls, but all you can focus on is him — on the warmth of his hand, the depth in his gaze, and the way the space between you seems to shrink with each passing second.
With his fingers still interlaced with yours, Jungkook gently pulls you closer. The sudden shift brings you nearer to him, and you let out a soft giggle, feeling your cheeks heat up as you blush under his gaze. The warmth of his body, the way his eyes are fixed on you — it sends a shiver of excitement down your spine.
As the distance between you vanishes, your breath catches when you realize his gaze is locked on your lips. It’s intense, and it makes your heart race. You watch, spellbound, as he lifts his other hand slowly. His thumb brushes tenderly across your bottom lip, the pad of his finger soft against your skin. The simple, teasing touch sends a wave of warmth washing over you.
He lingers there for a moment, rubbing your lip, and then his thumb presses just a little more insistently, grazing the slit of your mouth as though silently asking for permission. The unspoken question in his eyes makes your pulse quicken, and you instinctively part your lips in response. His thumb slips inside, and you close your mouth gently around it, letting him in.
Your eyes remain on him as his thumb rests against your tongue, the sensation both intimate and electrifying. The fire crackles in the background, but the world feels muted, like it’s just you and him in this moment. Your heart pounds, and the connection between you grows stronger as you suck lightly on his digit.
Jungkook’s breathing becomes slightly uneven as he watches you, his eyes darkening with something deeper, more primal. He gently withdraws his thumb, his fingers now tracing the curve of your jaw, his touch both firm and tender. His hand slides to the back of your neck, pulling you even closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours.
The air between you is thick with anticipation, the moment heavy with the promise of what’s to come. His forehead rests against yours, and for a heartbeat, time seems to stop.
“We should stop before things go further,” Jungkook whispers, his voice low and husky, the warmth of his breath tickling your lips as he gives you the chance to pull away.
You pause, your heart racing in your chest. “We should,” you whisper back, the words lingering in the air between you both.
But neither of you move.
Instead, your gaze remains locked on his, and you can feel the heat radiating between you, the unspoken desire that lingers in the small space that still separates you.
And just like that, his lips are on yours.
The kiss is electric, his lips soft yet insistent as they press against yours. It’s slow at first, a tentative exploration, but the moment your mouths meet, everything else fades into the background.
As your lips remain locked with his, you straddle his lap, the movement seamless and natural, as if you’ve both been leading up to this moment for far too long. Your hands slide behind his head, fingers threading through the soft strands of his hair, tugging lightly as the kiss grows more heated, more desperate.
Jungkook’s hands find your waist, gripping you firmly, and the sensation sends a shiver down your spine. You feel his muscles tense beneath your fingertips as you press yourself against him, your hips moving instinctively. A soft gasp escapes your lips when you feel the hardness beneath you, his cock straining against the fabric of his breeches, the friction making you yearn for more.
Your hips begin to buck slowly, grinding against him as you search for more contact, more release. The heat between you two is palpable now, your breath mingling with his as the kiss deepens, tongues tangling in a rhythm that matches the slow, steady roll of your hips. Every shift of your body sends a wave of pleasure through you, and you can feel his grip tighten on your waist, his breathing growing heavier.
Jungkook lets out a low groan against your lips, the sound vibrating through you, igniting something primal. You can feel the restraint he’s holding onto, the tension in his body as he struggles to keep control, but the way his hands grip your waist tells you he’s just as lost in the moment as you are.
The friction between you both builds, the heat intensifying, but the layers of fabric between you only heighten the desire, making you ache for more.
“Perhaps I should thank you,” you whisper against his lips, your breath hot and teasing as your hips roll against him, causing a deep groan to escape from Jungkook’s throat. You can feel him hardening beneath you, his body responding despite his attempts to maintain composure. “For your service…”
His grip on your waist tightens, his fingers digging into your sides just enough to make you feel how much he’s holding back. “It is only my mere duty,” he says, voice strained, each word laced with barely controlled desire.
You smile at his restraint, your lips moving to brush against the sharp line of his jaw. “You’ve done so much,” you murmur, your lips trailing lower, leaving a warm path down his neck, just beneath his jaw. His skin is soft and warm, and his pulse races beneath your touch. You hear his breath catch as you kiss along his collarbone, each word punctuated by a slow, deliberate press of your lips. “For me…” You move lower, your kisses more intentional, feeling his chest rise and fall more rapidly under your touch. “For my children…”
His hands twitch on your hips, torn between pulling you closer and letting you continue your slow, torturous descent. When you glance up at him, you see the way his dark eyes watch your every movement, clouded with need, a silent plea for more even as he struggles to keep himself grounded.
"I think you deserve a reward," you whisper, your voice sultry, teasing as your lips hover just above the edge of his tunic. Your fingers slowly, deliberately trace the hem, brushing against his heated skin as you make him wait, drawing out the anticipation.
Jungkook's head falls back, his lips parted as he releases a shaky breath, his control slipping with every passing second. His voice is a low growl, thick with longing. “You owe me nothing,”
You shake your head softly, your lips grazing the exposed skin of his chest. “I owe you everything,” you whisper back, your voice filled with sincerity and seduction, the intensity of the moment building as your hand moves lower, testing the boundaries of his restraint.
His body tenses beneath your touch, but his hands stay firm on your hips, holding you against him as if he’s afraid to let go. His eyes meet yours again, dark and full of raw emotion, his voice hushed, almost reverent. “I am yours,” he breathes, and in that moment, you know that he means every word.
With a soft smile playing on your lips, you slowly lift yourself off his lap, feeling the tension in the air as you lower yourself to the ground, kneeling between his legs. Jungkook watches you closely, his breathing uneven, eyes darkened with a mix of anticipation and restraint.
You place your hands gently on his thighs, feeling the heat radiating through the fabric of his breeches, his muscles tense beneath your touch. You start slow, allowing the moment to settle between you, your fingers tracing soft, deliberate circles along his thighs, teasing without rushing. Jungkook’s breath hitches slightly, his gaze locked on your every movement, as if entranced by the sight of you at his feet.
With a deliberate slowness, you begin to untie the laces of his breeches, savoring the quiet rustling of fabric as you pull them off completely, your fingertips brushing against his skin, making him shiver. You take your time, your eyes never leaving his, a playful gleam in your gaze as you watch his resolve crumble little by little.
His cock springs free, finally released from its tight confines. Jungkook lets out a low groan, the sudden release of tension sending a wave of relief through him. The sight of him, hard and ready, makes your breath catch, but you don’t rush. Instead, you rest your hands on his thighs again, grounding yourself in the warmth of his skin, feeling the subtle flex of his muscles beneath your palms.
You glance up at him, and the intensity in his gaze sends a thrill down your spine. His lips are parted, his breath heavy, and you can see the restraint in the way he grips the couch, knuckles white, fighting the urge to take control.
You spit into your hand before wrapping it around his cock, feeling its warmth and weight resting in your palm. You start slow, allowing him to adjust to the sensation, your fingers curling around him with a firm but careful grip. As your hand begins to move, sliding up and down in deliberate, teasing strokes, Jungkook's head falls back against the couch. A low, breathy moan escapes his parted lips, his chest rising and falling more heavily with each breath, betraying his struggle to hold onto his composure under your touch. His muscles tense, eyes fluttering shut, as the pleasure builds with each movement.
His reaction fuels you, and you keep your pace slow and sensual, your hand gliding smoothly along his length. Each movement draws another sound from him — whether it’s a quiet sigh, a deep groan, or the way his breathing catches for a split second. The power you hold in this moment, the way his body responds to your touch, makes the air between you feel electric, alive with tension.
Jungkook’s fingers dig into the cushions beside him, as if holding on for control, but you can see the way his restraint is unraveling, bit by bit. His throat bobs as he swallows hard, his lips parted in silent bliss, eyes closed as he surrenders to the sensation.
With a mischievous smile, you tighten your grip just a little, adding the slightest bit more pressure as you continue to stroke him, and his moan deepens, sending a shiver through you.
You lean in, teasingly slow, letting the anticipation build. Jungkook’s breath hitches as he watches you, his chest rising and falling faster, his hands tightening into fists. The moment your tongue makes contact with the tip of his cock, his body tenses. You start with soft, delicate kitten licks, testing his sensitivity, letting him feel every light flick of your tongue as you work.
A bead of precum gathers at the tip, and you lap it up, the salty taste lingering on your tongue. Jungkook’s groan is deep, almost guttural, his head tipping back against the couch once more as you tease him with your soft licks, never giving him more than just a taste of what’s to come.
The way he reacts, the way his body trembles under your touch, only spurs you on. You take your time, savoring the control you have over him, feeling the way his thighs tense beneath your hands.
You glance up at him through your lashes, enjoying the sight of Jungkook completely lost in the moment, his lips parted, breath heavy. His reaction fuels your desire to tease him more. Your tongue moves slowly, deliberately, swirling around his sensitive tip, while your hand continues its steady rhythm, pumping him with just enough pressure to keep him on edge.
He moans again, low and deep, his hips instinctively bucking up, searching for more of that friction you’re so teasingly withholding. You hum softly, the vibrations making his cock twitch against your tongue. You take him a little deeper, wrapping your lips around the head, sucking gently as you let your hand pump the base, building the tension.
Jungkook’s hands grip the couch tightly, fighting to stay still, his body betraying him with every small thrust of his hips. You take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks as you suck, your tongue working against the underside of his shaft as you slide him further into your mouth. His response is immediate — his body jerks, a strangled groan escapes him, and you feel his hands twitch as if he’s fighting the urge to reach out and grab you.
You reach up and intertwine your fingers with his, and in that simple gesture, a new layer of intimacy blooms between you. His grip is firm, almost desperate, as if holding your hand is the one thing grounding him in the intensity of the moment. It's no longer just about desire; it's something deeper, more vulnerable, a connection that transcends the physical. His thumb gently brushes over your knuckles, a soft, tender contrast to the raw passion swirling around you. That small touch, full of unspoken emotion, speaks louder than words ever could, reminding you both that this is more than just a fleeting moment — it’s a quiet, shared promise.
Jungkook’s breathing becomes even more ragged as you continue to take him deeper, your lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to push him closer to the edge. You can feel his restraint, the way he’s holding back, trying to stay in control despite the pleasure coursing through him.
He groans, your name slipping from his lips in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. You hum softly in response, the vibrations causing another moan to escape his lips. The combination of his hand in yours, his soft gasps, and the warmth of his skin beneath your touch creates an almost overwhelming sense of connection.
You pull off him with a soft, wet pop, leaving his cock glistening in the firelight. Your lips curve into a teasing smile as you drag your tongue slowly along the length of his shaft, watching his reaction. Jungkook’s breath catches, his body tensing with anticipation. When you reach his base, you let your tongue dip lower, tracing a path to his balls. You take your time, licking and teasing the sensitive skin before gently sucking them into your mouth.
The reaction is immediate — his hips jerk up involuntarily, a deep moan escaping him as his head falls back against the couch. His knuckles are white as he grips the cushions, and his fingers tighten around yours, the warmth of his touch grounding you in the moment. You keep your eyes on him, enjoying the way his face contorts with pleasure, his lips parting with a shuddering breath.
“Fuck,” he groans, voice rough and strained, the sound vibrating through the air, sending a thrill through you. His chest rises and falls heavily as you continue to pump his cock in your hand, your strokes slow and deliberate, matching the rhythm of your mouth as you suck gently on his balls.
You can feel the tension building in him, his body trembling slightly under your touch. His muscles are taut, straining as he tries to hold himself back, but you know he’s close. The soft, breathless curses he murmurs between groans let you know just how much you're driving him to the edge.
Jungkook’s mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, each one more intoxicating than the last. The feel of your mouth wrapped around his cock is overwhelming, your lips warm and slick as they glide over him, sending shivers of pleasure down his spine. But what makes his pulse race even more is the sight of you — the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms — on your knees before him, your eyes dark with desire, lips wet and swollen as you take him deeper.
He can barely process it. A part of him feels like he’s lost in a dream, but the grip of your hand on his thigh, the soft, wet sounds filling the air, and the heat of your mouth around him all ground him in reality. His fingers tighten around yours, the intimacy of your entwined hands a stark contrast to the lust coursing through him.
He can’t stop thinking about how utterly beautiful you look, your regal composure gone, replaced by raw want. It’s sinful, how he can feel his cock throbbing in your mouth while your crown sits not too far away, a reminder of who you are — his Queen. And yet, here you are, on your knees, giving yourself to him so completely.
And then there’s the thought of what comes next. His cock twitches at the idea of getting you beneath him, of spreading your legs wide and burying himself in your warmth. He’s desperate to feel you around him, to watch your face twist with pleasure as he takes you, over and over again.
But even with all those thoughts swirling in his mind, one thing keeps echoing louder than the rest: the sheer power of this moment. The Queen, on her knees, sucking his cock like she’s wanted this as much as he has.
The thought sends another wave of heat through his body. He’s barely holding on, every moan, every stroke of your tongue pushing him closer to the edge. His breaths come faster, more ragged, his hips beginning to move on their own, thrusting gently into your mouth. 
Before Jungkook can take control, you pull back, rising from the ground and denying him the release he craves with a teasing smile. His frustrated groan fuels your confidence as you straddle him again, your knees resting on either side of his hips. Your fingers intertwine with his, and you guide both of his hands behind his head, locking your arms around his neck. His arms cross behind him, muscles flexing as he fights to keep himself in check.
The intensity in his eyes is undeniable — burning with desire, frustration, and the raw need to touch you, yet restrained by the control you've taken. Every part of him is taut, his body tense beneath you, waiting, aching for your next move. His gaze never wavers, fixed on you with an almost desperate longing, as if the anticipation alone could undo him.
You lean in slowly, planting a soft kiss on his lips, then another on his cheek, your breath brushing his skin. His chest rises and falls against yours, the heat between you both building to a near unbearable height. Then, lips grazing his ear, you whisper in a low, sultry voice, “I want you to fuck me the way a Queen should be fucked.”
Your words send a shudder through him, his body reacting instantly to your challenge. The restraint he’s been holding onto falters, his breathing turning ragged, his grip tightening slightly on your hands. The dominance of your demand ignites something primal in him, the heat in his gaze searing into you.
"Your Grace..." Jungkook murmurs, his voice deep and breathless, the title slipping out before he can stop it, laced with a mix of reverence and raw, uncontained desire. The slip into formality catches him off guard, as if he’s forgotten to leave the titles behind along with his armor. His jaw clenches, the tension in his body palpable as his control begins to fray at the edges. His eyes burn into yours, dark and hungry, as if your very presence has set him ablaze, and now, all he can do is watch helplessly as the flames consume him.
You feel the tension in his body, the way he’s holding himself back, and you smirk, rolling your hips against him, letting the friction drive him further into madness. “Are you going to make me wait, or must I command you again?”
That’s all it takes. His resolve snaps. With a low, feral growl, Jungkook releases your hands and grabs you by the thighs, lifting you effortlessly in one fluid motion. You let out a surprised giggle, heart racing at how easily he’s carrying you across the room. His strength, his commanding presence — it’s intoxicating, making your body heat with anticipation.
With a mischievous grin, he throws you down onto the bed, your body bouncing softly against the mattress. Jungkook is on you in an instant, crawling over you with a predatory grace, his body looming above yours, eyes dark and filled with intent. His hands press into the mattress on either side of you, caging you beneath him. The weight of him, the way his muscles ripple as he moves, has your breath catching in your throat.
His lips hover just inches from yours, teasing, his breath hot against your skin as he whispers, “I’ll show you exactly how my Queen should be fucked.”
There’s a rough edge to his voice now, one that sends shivers down your spine. His hands trail down your sides, fingers curling around the fabric of your dress, pulling it up and over your head in one swift motion. He takes a moment to admire the sight of you beneath him, his gaze smoldering as he drinks in every inch of your bare skin.
With a slow, deliberate movement, Jungkook’s lips descend to your neck, trailing hot, open mouthed kisses down your throat, your collarbone, and lower still, as his hands grip your hips, holding you firmly in place. His touch is everywhere — greedy, relentless — stoking the fire that’s been building between you all night.
As his mouth moves lower, a soft moan escapes your lips, your body arching instinctively toward him, craving more. And just when you think you can’t take any more teasing, he pulls back, hovering above you once more, eyes dark with lust and promise.
Jungkook pulls off his tunic, standing before you, fully bare. His gaze is unwavering, filled with awe and raw desire as he drinks in the sight of you, every inch of your body drawing him in with quiet reverence. The heat of his stare is palpable, his lips parting slightly as his eyes travel from your breasts down to your stomach, pausing at the faint stretch marks left behind by your children. 
There’s no shame in his gaze, only admiration — those marks are a testament to your strength, the life you’ve brought into the world. His hand reaches out, hesitating for just a second before brushing over your skin, tracing the delicate lines with his fingertips, as if memorizing every detail. His touch is tender, contrasting the heat in his eyes, and the reverence in his expression makes your heart swell. 
“So beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice hushed but filled with sincerity, almost as though he's speaking to himself. The way he looks at you makes your heart swell. There’s no hesitation in his gaze, no second thoughts — just pure admiration.
You can’t help but smile. Despite being nearly bare beneath him, you don’t feel vulnerable. You feel cherished, worshipped even, as if this wasn’t the first time he’s seen you like this. There’s a sense of ease between you, as if his presence was always meant to be like this — intimate and without fear. 
Jungkook leans in closer, his lips trailing down to your hip bone, placing a soft, lingering kiss there. The sensation is both grounding and electrifying, sending a shiver through your body. You glance down, meeting his gaze — intense and burning with desire, the kind of look that makes your heart race and your breath falter. In that moment, you can feel the fire behind his eyes, as if the world has fallen away and you're the only thing that matters.
Without breaking the connection, he lowers himself further, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. The kiss is soft, reverent, but full of promise, inching closer to the place where you crave his touch the most. Your breath catches in your throat, anticipation thick in the air, when he finally leans forward and presses a slow, deliberate kiss to your pussy through your soaking wet underwear.
A sharp gasp escapes your lips at the sudden contact, and instinctively, you lift your leg, gently pressing your foot against his shoulder to stop him from going further. His eyes flash with surprise, but there’s a glimmer of amusement in them as he looks up at you, waiting for your command.
“Maybe another time,” you murmur, your voice breathless but firm. “I want your cock.”
Your words hang in the air, heavy with anticipation, and Jungkook’s expression shifts, darkening with pure lust. He gives a low growl of approval, his hands gripping your thighs a little tighter as he quickly moves back up your body.
Jungkook wastes no time, his hands quick but careful as he pulls off your last piece of clothing and positions himself between your legs. His cock, already hard and slick with anticipation, brushes against your entrance, the warmth of him sending a ripple of electricity through your body. You can feel the tension in his muscles, every inch of him taut with restraint as he fights the urge to simply take you. He wants this moment to be more than just a rush of desire.
With a slow, deliberate nudge of his hips, he presses the tip of his cock against your core, the sensation both tantalizing and overwhelming. Your body reacts immediately, a soft gasp escaping your lips as he teases your entrance, the heat between you intensifying. His eyes are locked on yours, as if he’s savoring every second before fully sinking into you. 
Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in closer, urging him to give you exactly what you’ve been yearning for. His lips crash onto yours in a heated kiss, the moment charged with raw, unspoken passion as he finally pushes into you.
“Oh Gods,” you moan, your back arching off the bed as the sudden stretch overwhelms you. Jungkook fills you completely, every inch of him pressing into you, making your breath hitch as your body adjusts to the delicious pressure. His movements slow for a moment, letting you feel every bit of him, the weight of his body grounding you as the heat between your legs spreads throughout your entire body.
Jungkook’s forehead drops to yours, his breathing ragged as he holds himself still, giving you a moment to adjust. "You feel so perfect," he groans, his voice thick with restraint. His hands roam your body, gripping your hips as though he needs to hold onto something to keep himself from losing control completely.
Your fingers slide up his back, nails grazing his skin as you tug him closer, desperate for more. "Move," you whisper, your voice trembling. "I need you."
That’s all it takes.
With a low growl, Jungkook begins to move, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in, the sensation sending waves of pleasure rippling through you. Each movement is deliberate, deep, and measured. Your moans mix with his breathless grunts, filling the room with the sounds of your shared desire.
Your legs tighten around his waist, pulling him deeper with every thrust. His pace quickens, and soon, he’s moving faster, harder, the rhythm building as the pleasure between you grows. Each thrust drives you closer to the edge, your moans growing louder, more desperate as you cling to him, completely lost in the moment. 
Jungkook’s lips find your neck, peppering kisses along your skin between ragged breaths. “You feel so good… so fucking good,” he pants, his hips snapping against yours with growing urgency. 
Your hands tangle in his hair, your body responding to his with a need that’s been simmering for so long, now finally unleashed. "Don’t stop," you moan, your voice shaky as the heat within you builds to a breaking point. 
Jungkook’s thrusts become erratic, his breath hot against your ear. "Don’t think I can stop," he chuckles, his words sending a shiver through you just as the first waves of release begin to crash over you. 
You kiss him eagerly, teeth grazing his bottom lip before tugging at it playfully. Jungkook groans into your mouth, his hips stuttering for a moment at the sensation. The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, more heated as your hands pull him closer, your nails digging into his back.
He responds in kind, his lips crashing back onto yours, the intensity of his kiss matching the rhythm of his thrusts. He bites gently on your bottom lip in return, making you gasp into his mouth, your bodies completely in sync as the pleasure mounts between you.
Your kiss is a frenzy of passion, tongues dancing, breaths mingling, as every movement pulls you closer to the edge. You tug harder at his lip, and he growls low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your lips and sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through your veins.
Jungkook’s pace becomes relentless, his control slipping as he loses himself in you. “The day of the Kingsguard posting,” he starts breathlessly, his voice low and rough as he thrusts into you. “When you walked onto the balcony… I saw you. Thought you were so pretty. So, so pretty.”
His words, spoken between ragged breaths, send a shiver down your spine, making you arch closer into him. You gasp, your hands clutching onto his shoulders as his confession wraps around you like a heated secret. The intensity in his eyes as he speaks, as he moves inside you, is overwhelming — his vulnerability laid bare, a part of himself he’s never shared with anyone else.
“I shouldn’t have thought it,” he continues, his voice thick with desire and restraint as his pace quickens, “but I couldn’t help it. I wanted you from that moment.”
You feel your heart pound in your chest, not just from the pleasure but from his raw honesty. Your lips part, but no words come out, only breathless moans as he pushes you closer to the edge. His hands tighten on your waist, his lips brushing your ear.
“I never thought I’d have you like this,” he whispers, his voice rough with awe and hunger, each word laced with the weight of unspoken desire. “But now that I do… I’m never letting go.”
His confession wraps around you, sending a shiver through your body as his movements become more intense. The passion in his eyes, the way his body presses into yours, has you spiraling, lost in the heat between you.
You raise a trembling hand, gently brushing his hair back, your fingertips lingering against his skin. “I’m yours,” you breathe, the words slipping from your lips like a vow.
The way his eyes darken, the way his grip tightens on you, tells you he’s heard it loud and clear. And in this moment, you know he’ll hold onto that promise as tightly as he holds onto you.
He laughs out a moan at this. His pace quickens, his thrusts deeper, harder, each one sending you spiraling further. Your moans mix with his, filling the room, the sound of skin against skin only adding to the fire between you. His hands roam your body, memorizing every curve, every inch of you like it’s the last time.
“I’m so close,” he whispers, his voice strained, his body trembling as he fights for control. His forehead presses against yours again, his eyes searching yours, desperate, as if he’s asking for permission to lose himself in you.
You nod, your own release building, teetering on the edge. “Cum with me,” you breathe, your voice shaky, your heart pounding in your chest. “Please.”
With a few more deep, powerful thrusts, you feel Jungkook’s body tense as he releases into you, a low groan escaping his lips. The sensation triggers your own climax, waves of pleasure crashing through you as your body tightens around him. You gasp, arching against him, your hands clutching at his back as you ride out the overwhelming sensations together.
His name tumbles from your lips in a soft moan, and he buries his face into the crook of your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. For a moment, the world outside fades — it's just the two of you, tangled together, hearts pounding in sync, as you both come down from your highs.
He doesn’t move right away, his weight still pressed against you, his hands tracing slow, soothing circles on your hips as he catches his breath. You can feel his heart beating wildly against your chest, a silent reminder of the intensity you just shared.
Finally, Jungkook picks his head up from your chest, his dark eyes soft as they meet yours. He leans in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss, just because he finally can. It feels different now, with no hesitation between you, just pure connection. After pulling away, he shifts to lay beside you, pulling you against his chest, your bodies fitting together perfectly. 
You lie there in comfortable silence for a while, both of you catching your breaths, the calm after the storm. Jungkook’s fingers absentmindedly trace shapes on your back, lulling you into a peaceful haze. But then, he breaks the quiet with a teasing tone.
“Did I exceed your expectations, my Queen?” His voice is low and playful, a soft chuckle escaping him.
You laugh, swatting his chest lightly. “Arrogant, are we?” 
But you don’t let him respond. Instead, you sit up, straddling his waist once again, your grin mischievous as you lean down to kiss him, deeper this time, your lips lingering against his. 
“Might need to go again to give you a wholehearted answer,” you say with a smirk, looking down at the man who looks far too comfortable in your bed — a man who, by all means, shouldn’t be here.
His eyes widen for a moment before a slow, wicked grin spreads across his face, matching your energy. He chuckles, his hands gripping your waist firmly, his desire evident.
Jungkook knew that once the children were tucked safely into bed, these sneaky nights with you would be his favorite part of the day — full of far more excitement than he’d ever imagined.
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The days stretched on like endless hourglasses, the sand moving far too slowly. Every moment of the daylight hours was consumed by anticipation, the constant pull of wanting the sun to sink and the moon to rise. It was during the night, when Jungkook would slip quietly into your chamber, that the world finally felt right.
Whether it was tangled sheets, quiet conversations, soft laughter, or simply lying in each other’s arms, those moments with him were the highlight of your days — only second to the joy of your children’s smiles, of course. But with Jungkook, time seemed to bend, each night feeling like a stolen treasure that you cherished more with every passing hour.
As much as you despised the act of walking past Jungkook during the day, pretending he wasn't your lover at night, the thrilling game of trying not to get caught was undeniably fun.
The secret, the tension of it, had its own special allure. Yet, there were moments when the near misses took a more terrifying turn.
Like that one time.
You'd been soaking in a bath, the water warm and fragrant with bubbles, the steam swirling around you like a blanket of comfort. But Jungkook, always unpredictable, had snuck in without a sound. Before you could even protest, he was stripping himself bare, sliding into the tub with you, the sudden shift in water making a small splash as he settled in.
Laughter filled the room as water overflowed, but that quickly faded into a mix of heavy breaths, wet skin, and the sound of sloppy kisses. Jungkook's hands gripped your waist as he leaned back, his head resting against the tub's edge, eyes locked on you. Your hips moved in sync, the sound of water splashing and your soft moans combining with his groans, creating a rhythm that made your heart race.
Then, just as the heat between you both reached its peak, a knock at the door shattered the moment. It was so sudden and unexpected that Jungkook's hand shot up, covering your mouth before you could release a gasp, freezing you in place. Your breath caught, heart pounding in your chest.
"Your Grace, I have your warm towels," came a muffled voice from the other side of the door. The maid sounded so oblivious, so unaware of what was actually happening just beyond the wooden barrier.
Jungkook didn't move a muscle, still as stone, his hand resting over your lips as his eyes met yours with a mischievous glint. Slowly, he lifted his hand, urging you to speak.
"J- just leave them at the door," you stammered, trying to keep your voice steady, though your heartbeat betrayed your calm facade. "I’ll grab them once I'm finished."
Jungkook stifled a chuckle, clearly finding the entire situation amusing as though it was nothing more than a joke to him. But you knew better. This was dangerous, reckless, and could cost both of you far more than just embarrassment.
"Very well, Your Grace," came the maid's voice, before the sound of her footsteps faded into the distance.
The moment she was gone, you slapped Jungkook's chest, eyes narrowed in mock fury. "We could've been caught," you said, your voice laced with both exasperation and something else — something darker, more thrilling. But the smile that tugged at your lips betrayed your feigned seriousness.
Jungkook grinned, his chest rising and falling with a quiet chuckle, as he pulled you back toward him, the playful tension still lingering in the air.
Because nights with Jungkook were always too short, he made sure to steal as many kisses and playful winks during the day as possible. The fleeting moments shared between you were like stolen treasures, hidden in plain sight.
Whenever the children finished their lessons, Jungkook was quick to position himself in front of the door to the next room they’d move into, knowing you'd soon follow, eager to check on them and hear about what they’d learned. Each time, like clockwork, you’d approach, ready to step past him, only for him to block your way with a teasing grin.
“Let me in,” you’d whine softly, unable to hide the smile tugging at your lips.
He’d simply point to his cheek, signaling for a kiss as if he were making a royal decree. You’d roll your eyes but play along, leaning in. Just as your lips brushed his cheek, he’d turn his head swiftly, catching your kiss on his lips instead.
Your heart would race as you quickly pecked his lips once more, a mixture of thrill and worry filling you at the thought of someone walking down the corridor and catching you both. With a final flustered glance at him, you’d hurry into the chamber to join your children, trying to maintain your composure as you asked them about their day.
Meanwhile, Jungkook would stand tall outside the door, his expression serious, as though he was merely guarding the room. But the sparkle in his eyes and the lingering hint of a smile betrayed him, the playful mischief still present even as he forced himself to appear composed.
The only person who knew about your secret relationship with Jungkook was Atticus. You’d confided in him, and he had been overjoyed to learn he’d been right all along. He had always suspected something, but hearing it from you only fueled his excitement and pride at being in on the secret.
Jungkook’s devotion to you went far beyond his duty as a knight. On the surface, he played his role flawlessly, always by your side, always vigilant. To everyone else, he was simply your loyal protector, the ever watchful guard who would give his life without question. But beneath that armor, beneath the stern facade he wore in public, his loyalty ran much deeper.
He wasn’t just devoted to you as his Queen; he was devoted to you as the woman he loved, with a fierce, unshakable passion that transcended titles or obligations. Every time he stood by your side, it wasn’t just as your sworn knight but as the man who would do anything to keep you safe, even if it meant loving you in secret for the rest of his life.
In the quiet moments, when the world wasn’t watching, his love shone through. The way his eyes softened when he looked at you, the way his fingers lingered just a moment longer when they brushed against yours, or the way his lips would curl into a faint smile when he caught you stealing glances at him. It was in the way he held you at night, after everyone else had gone to bed, his arms wrapping around you with a tenderness that spoke of a love so deep, words could never do it justice.
Jungkook didn’t need grand gestures or declarations of love. His devotion was in the small things, the quiet sacrifices, the way he protected you not just with his sword but with his heart. Every glance, every touch, every whispered word in the darkness was a testament to his unwavering loyalty — not to the crown, not to his duty, but to you.
And though the world might never see the depth of his devotion, you felt it every day. In the way he watched over you, in the way he shielded you from not only physical threats but from the weight of loneliness that sometimes crept in. He was your protector, not just in body but in spirit.
As the years passed, your secret love remained hidden, but his devotion never wavered. No matter the risks, no matter how many times you had to pretend in public that he was nothing more than a knight, Jungkook’s heart was yours, fully and completely.
In the end, it didn’t matter that the world would never know the truth. You knew. You saw the way he loved you, not just as a knight sworn to protect you but as a man devoted to your heart, forever bound to you in a way that went beyond duty or title.
And in that devotion, you found your peace. Because you knew, no matter what happened, Jungkook would always be by your side — not just as your protector but as your lover, your confidant, and the one person who truly understood the depths of your soul.
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hazelfoureyes · 11 months ago
Text
The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice (a Valentino production)
⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣
Valentino has acquired a living, breathing human in hell. But at the begging of Angel, Alastor makes a deal in exchange for her soul.
tags: Alastor x reader, smut, dubcon, mentions of assault (Val intended to "fuck you to death”), Val's existence, overstimulation, forced (?) orgasms, bondage (shadow tentacles), choking (sexy kind, not murdery kind), cervix wrecked, your aunt is a bitch
(author's note: I've been in Japan for like 7 years and my English has suffered, but your fucking smutty writing on this site has inspired me to write for the first time in years.)
Minors DNI
Angel burst into the hotel lobby, winded. “Please, you gotta do somethin’!” 
To the surprise of everyone, he ran straight to Alastor, tears forming in his eyes.
“Val’s gonna hurt her real bad. I don’t know who else to ask, please. I can't—-“ he cradled his head in his hands, “I can't watch him break any more people.”
Alastor didn’t seem to react at first, but Charlie appeared at Angel’s side and pulled him into a hug, “Angel, take a deep breath. He’s gonna hurt who? What’s wrong?”
“He got a new soul. Some fucking cultist offered her up as sacrifice. But she's not dead yet Charlie—- he dragged her down here alive.” His voice cracked, “He wantsta— he said he’s gonna fuck her to death on camera and wait for her to respawn in hell. He’s convinced he’ll make a fortune off the tapes. Please, for fuck’s sake someone has to do something.”
A human in hell? Well, that was something interesting after all. With a raised brow Alastor spoke, “And how exactly can I help this poor, unfortunate soul?”
“Make a deal or– rip his arms off, I don’t fuckin’ know! There has to be something you can offer Val worth her soul. I’d give you my soul if I could!”
Well that’d be worthless.
But a human? A living, breathing human? Intriguing.
“Alastor you have do something. This isn't right! Hell isn’t for the living.” Charlie’s hair flew upward as her eyes flashed red for a second, “I’ll repay it somehow.”
Well there's no harm in taking a look. 
The demons and sinners who saw Alastor walking into the Vee’s tower oscillated between fleeing for their lives and live tweeting the event. Either a truce or a war would be breaking out and they knew they’d be fucked regardless.
“Alastooor”, Val exhaled,  letting the name drag out lazily, “Come to ruin something, I’m sure.” Val hadn’t seen Alastor since his fight with Vox 7 years ago, and he hadn’t expected to see him in his studio— ever. 
“Ha! No, not today. Word got around that there's a special little guest hidden in your studio.” Alastor’s eyes darted about the room, uninterested in the various parts and bits of the actors changing.
Val glanced at Angel, who’d suspiciously returned some 30 minutes before Alastor appeared. 
“I didn’t say nothing, Val.” Angel’s hands went up in defense. “He came to me askin’ about her.”
“And what exactly do you want with my “little guest”?” Val dropped any pretense of politeness. 
Alastor leaned forward on his microphone, and with a pop of static he practically cooed, “To see the poor creature, of course.”
Val ashed his cigarette into a cameraman’s hair and walked off, “Fuck it, sure. She’s back here.”
The back room was dark, perhaps some would call it mood lighting but what mood exactly it conveyed fell somewhere between dungeon and power outage.
You sat on your knees in the center of a round bed. Arms held above your head by a large clip attached to wrist restraints. Your body swayed slightly, a long rope anchored to the ceiling and tied to the clip above you.  Your body was slightly suspended, knees barely making contact with the bed beneath you. The white nightgown you wore was bloodied and ripped at the collar, causing it to slip down your left shoulder. Jaw clenched, your eyes were covered with a red satin tie. 
Alastor took the scene in. Your lip was cut and swollen, bruises peppered your cheek and exposed shoulder. Yet, you were breathing heavily, like a bull about to rush them. You were clearly defenseless, but somehow still defiant. His smile grew to his ears. It had been decades since he had a human in such a prone state.
“Have you …. broken her in yet?” He asked delicately, eyes never leaving your face.
“Nah, just roughed her up a little. I want to capture her raw reaction on camera when she takes her first demon cock.” Valentino clenched his fist to emphasize the word “first”. 
Your head fell forward as you pulled down on your wrist restraints, a growl rising in your throat.
Alastor felt his breath get caught in his own, your nightgown riding slowly up your legs as you struggled. 
“Hey!” Val snapped his fingers in your direction. “Don’t embarrass me. Our guest came to see you. He’s considering making an offer for you, I’m sure, so say hello like a good girl.” Val rolled his eyes, “Sluts always fucking embarrassing me.”
You tried to gather enough saliva to speak, finding the taste of blood still on your tongue. “Fuck you and your friend.” barely made it from your chapped lips. When was your last drink of water? Last meal? How long had you been unconscious before this all began?
“Not friends.” Alastor was quick to retort, “The name’s Alastor, my dear. It’s a pleasure.”
You sneered, a pleasure? What a sick joke. 
“Alastor.” you repeated it, disdain dripping from your lips.
The absolute contempt with which you said his name did something to him. His eyes darted from your mouth back to your inner thighs, exposed from the rising dress. Your mouth was so rude but your body looked so sweet. A little lamb– no, a doe.  
“Say it again.” It wasn’t a request, Alastor himself was surprised to hear himself say it with such demand.
You thrashed. “Oh is that what gets you off? You wanna hear your name in my mouth?” You said mockingly. “You’re just as FUCKED as him.” The nightgown rode up even further. Alastor’s tongue stuck to his teeth as his mouth went dry. Had you been delivered to Val without panties? Offered to him in just this sheer cotton night dress? What was happening to him…
 Static bit your skin as a low hum filled the room. 
“Say it.” Alastor’s voice dropped an octave, eyes suddenly taking on a slight glow. You couldn’t see the danger before you, but you felt it. Something primal in you knew you were in the presence of a predator.
No, you couldn’t see him, but his presence was pressing in all around you. 
“Alastor.” You seethed, “ALASTOR.” Pulling down on the restraints yet again you tried to find the strength to stand, “ALASTOR! ALASTOR!!” Your legs buckled under you having gone numb hours ago, his name devolving into a gutteral scream. All of your anger and despair ripped from your chest as you shouted his name. The nightgown had now ridden to your hips but you couldn’t find an ounce of shame in you to care. 
You were so full of rage, so defiant still. You were so…. alive.
He felt the blood rushing to his crotch in an all together forgotten sensation, and knew immediately his decision. “Let’s make a deal.” His eyes didn’t leave you, but Valentino knew he was talking to him.
Val let out a laugh, “I have some time to waste while they finish the set. Why not.”
Seated in his personal quarters, Val motioned for Alastor to sit opposite him. You had been left in the dark of that room, only knowing you were alone when the static died down and the hair on the nape of your neck relaxed. 
“Listen, Radio Demon. There’s nothing you have that could tempt me to hand over the little bitch.” His long arms rested over the back of his sofa, a heart shaped puff of smoke leaving his lips. Alastor swatted at the air as it approached. 
“What do you even need her for? You don’t deal in souls, but flesh. Surely you can find another toy to break on camera.” Alastor waved his microphone away.
“Hmm”, Val brought a finger to his chin in thought, seriously considering what Alastor could possibly offer him. “Oooh, I know.” His head lolled to the side,  “People have seen me fuck a thousand times. But no one’s ever even seen you with a partner. ‘Radio Demon fucks human sacrifice’” He motioned from left to right as if reading the words off an imaginary marquee, “Now THAT would make money. Real money. Fuck GOD levels of money.” A red liquid leaked from his lips as they were stretched across clenched teeth, his hips involuntarily humped at the air, “oh fuck. Yes. You do the porn, and I’ll give her to you. Soul and body.”
Alastor was looking at Val but his mind was still in front of you, his name tumbling from your lips. The uninterrupted skin where your thighs met your hips. The desperation in your scream. How absolutely soft and fragile you were. He adjusted his hips, trying to calm the twitching of his cock at the thought of you helplessly before him. 
“What exactly are you proposing?” His fingers came to rest entwined on his knee, one leg over the other.
“First, I have full rights to the video to do as I please.” Val counted out on his fingers, “The porno has to show penetration. No dry humping or some bullshit like that. I need you fucking that whore if I’m gonna sell this shit. Aaand”, A sickening grin grew on Valentino’s face, “She has to cum. And I’ll know if she’s faking it. If you don’t manage all three, the deal is off. I keep the human and all rights to the video for per— no, *in* pep-“ he sputtered, “perpur- forever! Fuck.” 
Alastor’s default grin was now so wide his gums could be seen peeking past his lips, his eyes flashing to dials, “It’s a deal.” He extended his hand to Valentino as he stood. A green light was shining from the open palm but Val shook it regardless, confident the deal's conditions wouldn’t be met. He’d seen a lot of fucked up shit on his set, but the Radio Demon, famously uninterested in sex, wasn’t going to make a battered human cum. How stupid could Alastor be, he thought. And he’ll have the video of Alastor failing to please someone to broadcast all over the pride ring and beyond. “May I have a moment alone with her before the filming?”
Val rolled his eyes, “yeah but don’t fuck her off camera.”
The sudden feeling of a hand on your hip startled you so intensely you let out a yelp. 
“Hello, my little doe.” Hot breath tickled the shell of your ear, then your neck, then your collar bone… “Unfortunately your shoot will still continue today. But if you do as I say, I promise you’ll leave the studio alive.”
You felt the nightgown being tugged back down your hips, hiding your exposed sex.
“I will be taking that pompous moth’s place. I will be as gentle as I can, but he will want to see you suffer. You must still fight me, must act pained. Can you play along?”
Your eyes darted behind your eyelids. He sounded— gentle? His voice was soft against your skin. Maybe he was truly the lesser evil of the two. You nodded. You’d heard all the gory details of what the other demon had planned for you, this sounded infinitely more tolerable. You dare thought you’d suffered worse before. 
“And, one more little caveat, darling. I will bring you to orgasm, so please don’t fight so hard as to delay your release.”
You hadn’t realized you’d been holding your breath until his words punched you in the gut. 
“I-“
“Yes?” Alastor’s mouth was nearly on your neck, his smile ghosting your skin.
“I’ve never—- I mean I can only do that by myself. No one else has managed to-“
A large hand patted your head, cutting your train of thought off. How big was he? His hands could palm a basketball. Could he really be gentle? Was he capable of it? Were those hands going to be on you soon? Your mind was running away with the thought of this strange demon fucking you on camera. 
“Oh don’t worry about that. Just focus on your performance. We have to put on a good show!”
Angel was practically chewing his fingers off as he watched the crew finish the set.
“Alastor what the fuck, I thought you were gonna help her!”
“I am, my effeminate friend. Have a little faith in me.” He adjusted his bowtie and took his place on set.
“I have none. I have negative faith, Alastor. Fuuuuck”, Angel slumped against the wall behind him and sank to the floor. 
The stage was set. A red sigil was painted on the floor of a cabin, candles lit around the room as the only source of light (except the stage lighting hanging above the scene). Of the three walls they’d made, the far left wall had an altar haphazardly filled with flowers, a golden bowl, and small plaid satchel.
Someone — something? — led you by the restraints to the stage. Blindfolded, you were pushed down to the floor, forced to sit on your still numb legs. The leather cuffs on your wrist were unbuckled, allowing you to flex your hands. When you reached for the blindfold a hand smacked at yours.
“No no, keep it. I want you to look exactly how I found you.” The familiar voice of Val instructed. 
Someone handed a script to Alastor, but he pulled his hands away from the demon as if the paper itself was an angelic weapon, “Oh, no thank you. That won’t be necessary.”
“I’ll tell you what to say” Val said, clearly to you.
“It’s—- it’s fine. I’ll just do it like before. I don’t need any help.”
You really didn’t.  There was no improv needed. You could repeat exactly what you said yesterday evening when you awoke on the floor of an unfamiliar place. You’d been visiting your aunt one moment, and alone in a weird room what felt like moments later. Groggy, but alert enough to know something bad had happened. 
You heard “action”, and then silence. You could feel eyes on you.
“Aunt Sara….” You whispered. “I don’t understand what’s happened… Are you still there?” You rubbed your wrists trying to regain some blood flow, readjusting your legs to do the same. 
You heard a strange sound, both yesterday and now. 
“Aunt Sara isn’t here. She’s made an exchange, she gets extraordinary power….and I get your soul.” The way Alastor said it, the way his breath seemed to almost hitch, surprised you. Something cold touched your ankle, causing you to flinch, “But I want more than that. I need more than that.”
You felt that something-unknown snake up your leg toward your center. Crawling backwards on your butt to create some distance you collided with the altar. The golden bowl rolled to the edge and spilled its contents across the table. You could smell the iron tang of blood before you felt the pitter patter on your shoulder. Alastor inhaled quickly before letting the air back out with as much control as he could manage.
“Who are you?!” You’d asked this already. But this time the disembodied voice of your captor replied, “Alastor, the Radio Demon! Pleasure to meet you.”
The right side of your face smacked against the floor of the makeshift cabin as you were dragged suddenly across the room and into the red sigil. The cold appendage on your leg now tightly coiled up your calf.
“No— you have to fuck her with your fucking dick! You can’t use shadow tentacles!” Val shouted, nearly falling out of his chair.
“Now now, the deal didn’t specify with what, only that penetration must occur. Plus, I won’t show up on your video recording device anyway.” Alastor took several steps back, ensuring he was not in frame, “Rest assured, your audience will know it is me.” His words cracked and stuttered like someone had changed the station midway through his sentence.
A small, “fine, whatever.” was grumbled and the scene continued, the tentacle snaking its way up your thigh as Alastor chuckled softly at how you flinched against him.
You rolled onto your stomach and tried to kick off the shadow but it held firm. Letting out a groan you used your hands to drag yourself back towards the altar. Before you could reach the table your other leg felt the pressure of a new tentacle twist around your knee as you were dragged back toward the Radio demon once again.
Your nightgown was forced up, your ass now exposed and in the air as your legs were pulled open. That was as far as you had really gone yesterday, before a flash of light delivered you into the Pentagram City studio. 
Surprisingly, you felt embarrassed, self conscious knowing there were other people in this room. But as if he could read your mind, or perhaps just noticed the tremble in your legs, Alastor softly said, “It’s only us now, darling. There’s nowhere to hide.”
Third and fourth appendages appeared around your waist and neck. Effortlessly your hips were lifted off the floor, your cunt on full display to the man who now owned you. The tentacle on your neck slipped between your shoulder blades and pressed your chest firmly to the floor. You squirmed and struggled against the restraints but only accomplished to draw another chuckle from Alastor.
“Relax. We have forever, after all. We can take our time.”
You felt pressure at your entrance, and your pleas to stop were cut short as a shadow tentacle pushed its way inside you. It was cold, but quickly began to warm as your heat enveloped it. Your body was resisting it, too tight to take it all in one thrust, but you could feel it slick against your lips easily enough to make its way inside.
“Ooh, my dear, your wet little cunt betrays you.” He cocked his head to the side, antlers doubling then tripling in size, “Have my words affected you so much?”
You could feel the tentacle’s shape shift slightly inside you as if it were adjusting to you and not the other way around. True to his word, there was no pain except from the burning stretch of your hole against the girth of his shadow self.
Hissing, you thrashed against the sigil, “get OFF OF ME!” Pushing against the floor you barely got your shoulders an inch off the ground when you felt a nth appendage graze sloppily over your clit. You stilled, suddenly remembering your end of the deal. Your promise to the demon now circling your clit with his shadow. If you couldn’t do this, then the entire filming was for nothing.
“Don’t forget to breath. I can’t have you dying on me just yet, sweetheart.” The static was slowly building in the air around you again, a silent threat.
Your hand shot to your mouth, trying to smother the depraved sounds being fucked out of you. The tentacle in your pussy was now ramming against your cervix, curving and bending as it repeatedly forced its way in and out of you. The room was quiet, except for the slick, sticky sound of the tentacle coated in your fluids pulling nearly completely out of you before smashing back in. The pace was slow and cruel, but the pressure on your clit was fast and hard. Your mind was starting come undone, your thoughts splintering. You couldn’t focus on anything anymore, all over your body was pressure, pleasure, massaging, pushing, and pulling. 
“Ah ah, that won’t do.” Alastor practically sang the words as an appendage pulled your hands from your mouth and brought them to the small of your back. 
You whimpered, trying to find a balance between the overstimulation and the need to not let them see how much you were getting off on this. You needed to hate it more. Hate him more. Your cheek stuck to the wood of the floor as drool leaked from your open mouth, unable to keep it closed any longer. 
“I’ll—” Your strength was nearly gone, but you managed to knock your upper body around the sigil, smearing the still wet blood across your chest. You only managed to whisper into the flooring a quiet, “I’ll fucking kill you for this.”
The tentacles stopped, for a second you felt tears sting your eyes at the loss of friction. A loud screech made you wince, but you had no time to question it as your body was violently flipped. Your hips were slammed down onto the ground, held tightly by a tentacle around your waist. The back of your head ached as it was jostled in the turn. The shadows on your thighs now seemed determined to bruise you as they constricted around your skin. 
“What was that, dear?” The tentacle in your pussy seemed to swell inside you, the force of the thrusts picking up in intensity. He was ramming into your body with such fervor you felt the skin of your ass chaffing on the wooden grain beneath you.  “Speak up, now”, you heard him exhale forcefully, his controlled appearance hanging on by a thread.
“I-”, your mouth opened to continue your resistance when a new sensation stopped you. A second tentacle was trying to squirm its way into your heat, just above the now uncomfortably thick one twisting around inside of you. The pressure on your stomach from the force made you feel sick, but the devoted ministrations on your clit had your legs twitching against the restraints. “Ah–! no, wai-” It managed to slip itself into you, and with no hesitation it was pressing against your g-spot in a matching rhythm to the tentacle swiping over your swollen clit.
You’d never before made a sound like the one that was pulled from your throat. It was ugly and animalistic and took you by surprise. Still struggling to catch your breath, you threw your head back. You were losing control. As your body was rocked against the ground, the blindfold got caught in the friction and slipped down your nose. 
Bringing your head back up, you finally locked eyes with your new master. 
“Alas-” Another chilly tentacle came to your neck and began to lightly squeeze. You could only breathe out the rest of his name as your eyes met with his. He stood some feet from you, just outside of the sigil, barely on the set at all. He seemed nonplussed, antlers looming over you and suit perfectly neat, except one detail. His pupils dilated when you finally set your eyes onto his. The grip on your neck only stopped tightening when you stomped your foot down in fear of passing out. You didn’t break eye contact, a fire burning in you that told him no matter what he did you wouldn’t be broken. That look in your eyes, the contempt mixed with overwhelming pleasure made Alastor shift one foot in front of the other in an effort to better conceal the erection straining against the zipper of his pants. 
“Mmmhhh–” You finally broke contact as your eyes rolled back into your head, the pressure beneath your belly was building, a tightness threatening to snap. But this wasn’t like before, this wasn’t like when you were alone in your bed with your own hand. It felt like too much, your heart was pounding so hard you thought you’d really die. There was no way your body could continue this much longer, your heart would surely give out.
“Please–” You needed him to stop, the ghostly hand on your throat, the two tentacles pressing against your cervix and g-spot, the unrelenting pressure on your clit. It was too much, it was too sensitive. “I’m sorry, please. Pleeea-” you gritted your teeth, thighs twitching as the muscles in your core tightened.
“Going to cum, my little doe?” Through gritted teeth of his own Alastor asked you as if you had any choice in the matter. He forced your knees up to your shoulders, allowing the tentacles to reach new depths. 
“AaaaHH” You convulsed, “I’m yours, Alastor!” You moaned, willing to say anything to stop the overwhelming feeling as the coil snapped, you were orgasming on this demon’s shadow and for the love of all that was unholy he wouldn’t fucking let up. You did what he said, but he wasn’t stopping. His thrusts didn’t slow, your clit was throbbing and your body shaking uncontrollably. All defiance was dead, your fire snuffed out. Your eyes were glazed and unfocused. Your head hit the floor again as you struggled to keep your thoughts straight, “It’s all yours. My soul is yours! Please- sto-” Another orgasm was being fucked out of you, no recovery from the first. “I can’t, I can’t” Your jaw locked, the way your cunt was spasming and tightening around his shadow appendages nearly pushed them out of your body with the strength of your first forced orgasm. The lights in the room flickered and popped, the candles blew out with a sudden gust, static drowned out your voice from everyone but Alastor as you screamed through the second orgasm. A green light erupted from the smeared sigil beneath you, blinding the crew and onlookers. “My body is yours! My soul! It’s all yours. I give you all of me, Alastor! Alastor!!” Your vision went spotty, and your throat seemed to close around your voice. Your face was red with the strain of your orgasm. You’d never felt unrelenting pleasure like that before and in that moment you’d have given him absolutely anything he wanted from you. Everything. It was his. You were his. He owned you inside and out.
The bullying of your cunt finally calmed after your orgasm began to edge away, your breath no longer stuck in your throat. He didn’t stop, but he slowed down to a lazy pace as what few lights managed to survive flickered back to life. As your eyes adjusted to the light, you looked over your wrecked body to Alastor. His eyes were wild, his bangs damp and clinging to his forehead. His smile was manic, sinister almost. He looked truly demonic. A wave of fear carried a chill down your spine.
The tentacles withdrew, the sudden loss making you feel colder somehow now than before. They had taken on your own heat and matched your temperature so perfectly, now your body felt empty. You felt naked. Your cunt was still clenching, but around nothing at all. It felt…like something was missing now. Your body seemed to be upset at the loss of contact. It made your stomach turn.
You flinched when the radio demon approached you, but instead of tearing you to pieces like his grin had promised, he slipped his suit jacket off and laid it over your body. You hadn’t realized the dress was torn and lying beneath you in a wet pile of blood and sweat. The confusion must have been evident on your face, because Alastor’s appearance shifted. Antlers now small, if not tiny between his ears. His eyes a red and pink, lids half closed. His smile was just a line across his face, no teeth at all. He looked like a gentleman, had you not known what he had just done to your pussy you’d have thought him incapable of such impropriety. 
“Good job, my little doe.” He whispered before you were handed a glass of water by a tall stranger. 
“Wow, you’re kind of natural at this babe. I haven’t seen a performance like that in ages.  Are you okay?” You took the water from him but didn’t open your mouth to reply, instead transfixed on his appearance. You’d only seen Val and Alastor until now. “You can call me Angel. We’ll get you home soon. I swear.”
Your eyes flitted to Alastor’s, did he know? He must have, he must have felt it. Of course he knew. In those final moments, you hadn’t been acting. Not an ounce of your pleasured responses were disingenuous. Not a single word a lie.
Alastor helped you to your feet as Angel placed a robe over your shoulders. Alastor hummed as he put his jacket back on, a satisfied sound coming from his chest that almost sounded like a song. 
Val sat in his director’s chair with his legs crossed, mouth open. His cigarette was mostly ash, delicately lingering on the stub.
Alastor placed a hand on the small of your back as you were guided to the door. Looking over his shoulder he grinned to Val, “It seems our deal is done here, Valentino. She’s mine, in perpetuity.”
(Part two)
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slutofpsh · 8 months ago
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f1 racer | psh.
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part one
pairings: park sunghoon x reader
synopsis: f1 racer park sunghoon is the ace of their team until he got into a terrible accident causing of his sudden hiatus. the incident injured his shoulder and affected his mental health. you are hired by his mother to help him get through this tough times as you are one of the best psychiatrist in town. he hated the idea of being vulnerable so instinctively, he hates you. he hates how you try to get into his head for him to open up and he hates his parents for meddling with his life like he’s a kid. but he couldn’t deny that you are exceptionally beautiful and he can’t help his cock from twitching just by imagining pushing you down on your office table, fucking you deep and hard until you can’t think straight anymore.
wc: 14k
warnings: mdni. smut with slight plot, lots of dirty talking, degrading, corruption kink, minors dni, p into v raw (please always use protection), dom sunghoon, slight rough sex, reader experiencing sexual harassment. IF YOU DON’T LIKE ANY OF THIS PLEASE FEEL FREE TO SCROLL AWAY.
note: i have no right and enough knowledge with medical terms so disregard my claims as it came from my imagination to fit my plot. i’m new with writing smuts so please don’t give rude comments. i am still learning. also please send me asks and reblog my work. it will help a lot. thank you so much!
slutofpsh 2024 © all right reserved.
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“Famous ace racer of the team (f1 team) reportedly caught on an accident last night. Medics who said to arrive at the scene says that he was in a bad condition...” the voice of the news reporter serves as your background music as you’re busy putting coffee on your brewing machine.
It was yet another busy monday for you. One of your colleagues gave you a ring moments ago just to ask you for a favor to fill in for her. You’re suppose to go at the hospital after lunch, but that plan was thrown far out the window.
Being someone who needs to pay expensive rent and lots of bills, you accepted it in exchange of receiving her full payment for these sessions.
People around you always says how workaholic you are and that you should at least learn to loosen up, have fun, date and have sex. You’ll be lying if you say those thoughts didn’t popped inside your mind once in a while, but you knew you have bigger responsibilities at the moment.
Maybe you’ll do all that once you’re a little bit more stable in life. Right now, its not the case so you have to go work.
The drive to the hospital you’re currently working at was short. Multiple vans of tv media reporters blocked the parking lot, putting you off into a slightly foul mood. You groaned and tried your best to find a good spot without scratching any of the vehicles around.
“What in the world is happening...” you softly mumbled, clueless.
After finally making it inside alive, you saw your secretary arriving just on time. She smiles and wave at the sight of you and head towards the elevator together. The sight of the security pushing the reporters out caught your attention before the door of the lift shuts completely.
“Wah, media these days are scary. How can celebrities stand them?” your secretary commented, probably annoyed by all the chaos at the lobby.
“Yeah, they’re basically getting crazy down there.”
She nods, agreeing.
“I can’t blame them. One of the biggest personality in our country got into an accident last night so they’re probably trying to get a scoop of information as much as they can.” she continuously fills you in.
Your head nods slowly, not totally interested about the ‘one of the biggest personality’ being mentioned. This hospital is pretty much located at the center of the big city and famous people often comes here. It isn’t a big deal anymore for you.
Besides, you're more interested on how you will make more money rather than be nosy of who’s confined at your hospital. The last thing you would want is to get involve with a big personality.
The day went on smoothly, met up with the clients scheduled for today. You started packing up after your last session, it was around 4pm. This is why you like to be busy, because its more convenient for you. Days pass by quickly and you’re off to your home even before you know it.
Three knocks from the door to your office is what snapped you back to reality. Your white coat hangs slightly loose over one of your shoulder as you’re about to take it off. The possiblity of that person knocking to be your secretary is low, since she usually alert you through the intercom that she will come in before knocking.
After taking off your coat, your eyes are still darted at the direction of your office door.
“Come in.” you softly stated and you heard the sound of the knob moving.
“I heard from the lobby that you are here so I thought I should make a visit.” his professional tone, yet a little softer rings to your head.
Your eyes grow a little out of surprise then you bowed your head for greeting. His eyes scanned you shortly before it moves around your cozy office. He already made multiple compliments on how your office just feels so warm and comforting.
That’s exactly the vibe you wanted to give off when you personally chose the furnitures and design for this room. Since you’re a psychiatrist who focused on patients who experienced traumatic incidents in their life, you don’t want the location of your sessions to have the impression of a workplace. Patients usually go here to meet you for sessions and their peace of mind and comfort is what you prioritize the most.
“Oh, thank you...” you flash him an awkward smile, hands rests at both of your sides.
It isn’t a surprise that your director paid you a visit for today. He always does that in order to keep on check with his employees. You appreciate it, truly. It's just he’s a little too friendly towards you. Sometimes it makes you uncomfy and afraid that other doctors may misunderstood things.
“Anyway, you must had a long day.” he took steps closer and when you’re reachable, he stretches an arm over you. His hand rests at your shoulder and he clapped on it gently before sliding it down your arm to caress it.
It sent shivers through your spine and you didn’t like it one bit. Unfortunately, you have no choice but to live through it for now. As he’s very powerful and one bad word from him and you can kiss your job goodbye. That’s the last thing you want.
“I should leave you.” he says in a low voice while eyes roams around your face.
You hated every second of it, but you didn’t say anything. He smiles and you flashed him one as well. He raised his hand and lightly pinched your cheeks once before exiting himself from your office.
Finally out of your sight, you manage to sigh heavily. You've been holding your breath ever since he entered your office. It’s slightly making you feel bad, but you feel like he will take advantage of you sooner or later. The feeling of uneasiness are very evident whenever he’s around you.
It’s bad to judge people easily, but that’s mainly it is. You’ve spent years studying and understanding human’s way of thinking. Resulting for your instincts around them to be heavily accurate most of the time.
And your instinct are setting off negatively with your director. The only solution you can think of is to quit this job after you have enough money to build your own small clinic.
In order to have that, you have to work extra hard. For your dream and for your peace of mind.
You finished packing your things and left your floor. While inside the elevator, it stops at a certain floor. You unconsciously moved towards the side giving whoever it is a space for the lift. When the door opened, a beautiful woman wearing black sexy dress steps in.
She seems surprised to see that there’s somebody inside and so her teary eyes grew a bit big. Avoiding to make the atmosphere even more awkward, you bowed and flashed her a warm smile. She nods and glanced away.
Based on how she carry and dress herself, you can tell that her line of work may have something to do with her face. Model? That’s one of your guesses.
By the short eye contact with her teary eyes, you catch a glimpse of guilt and small regret filling them. And also greed that’s trying to push them all at the back of her mind.
You tried to shove these thoughts off of your mind as you’re practically done with work. Even if you cannot help trying to read people’s personality base on first impression, you have strict rules of avoiding it once shift is over.
You’re the first one to leave the lift as you get off at the lobby where you entered this morning. Ignoring her eyes watching you closely as you walk off without sparing her any glance.
It was a long day for you and the last thing you want is to get involve with some drama. Obviously, she’s going through something. But what’s new to that? Everyone in this world is going through things. We just really have to keep it altogether and wait until things gets better for us.
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It's been months and you put your focus on making money. Working really hard, filling in for your colleagues and also attending your own session. It was a routine you got used to, world revolving between home and to the hospital.
“There she is,” you bowed politely as you enter the office of your head doctor for the psychiatric ward.
Three heads snapped at your direction as you approach closer and the two of them are completely unfamiliar for you. By the way they dress, you can already tell that they’re important people. The type of people who reeks of money and connections.
“Mr and Mrs. Park, this is Doctor (surname).” your director introduced you to them. Even if you’re a little confused, you gave them a polite bow before sitting down at the chair in front of them.
“She’s the most recommended psychiatrist in our hospital and I really think she’s the one who can help your son.” the director added that made you realized that the two people in front are potention source of income.
With a warm welcoming smile, you pay close attention to the two of them to give good impression. Mr. Park have a serious look on his face, just a small smile from earlier and that’s all. Just by the looks of it, he’s a very reserved man. He seem to know the power he holds and so you guess he isn’t someone very friendly. Doesn’t really try hard to please other people.
Mrs. Park is elegant. The perfect epitome of graceful partner of somebody who holds so much power. She is very pretty as well, her smiles gives you the impression that she’s very family oriented.
“Their son needs assistance as he got involve with an accident months ago.” your head doctor tried to fill you up and instantly, you are on your professional mode.
With a nod, you smoothly fished your pen placed at the small pocket of your white gown then grabbed a paper not far away from you.
“Hmm, may I ask you guys a few questions?”
Mr. and Mrs. Park’s a little caught off-guard at how straightforward you are so they glanced over the head doctor. She quickly flashed them assuring smile.
“Go ahead, I’m sure Doctor (surname) perfectly knows what to do.” she added and with her words, they seem to let their guards down slightly.
“Yes, Doctor.” Mrs. Park says.
You smiled, “Does the patient personally asked to seek for professional help?”
Its a key point to know for you to know what kind of approach you need to utilize for this particular patient.
“No. Actually, he refused to see doctors and deny his need of it, claiming he’s perfectly fine. But me and his Father really wants him to atleast try.” the look on her eyes flashes genuine care and concern for her son.
“That’s totally okay, Mrs. Park. Sometimes, people who underwent accidents tries to deny that something changed within them when in reality there is. May I ask any behavioral changes within the patient, if there any?” and you continued jotting down on your paper.
Mr. Park silently watched how well you’re dealing with them. You looked so young, maybe around the age of their son and yet this is how professionally you handle things. His tensed shoulder relaxed a bit, realizing that they did the right choice of coming here.
“Yes...” Mrs. Park pursed her lips, blinks a couple of times trying not to get emotional just by the thought of her son.
“He shuts people out, doesn’t communicate with anybody and he gets pissed or annoyed so easily.” she sighs, eyes getting teary. “I mean, he doesn’t really have the best patience even prior to the accident but he’s just oddly cranky.”
You nodded your head and just proceeds on writing them down. This isn’t the first time you encountered patients that have the same personality with their son. This is what happens when someone had an accident that affected their life. They can be undergoing through post traumatic depression which is pretty serious as it can be dangerous.
“Can I schedule his sessions?”
They looked relieved at your question, happy that you agreed to take their son. Mrs. Park nodded her head and you continued on discussing them through the process of the sessions, letting them the available slots they can arrange for their son.
Normally, you would take patients to meet patients two times a week but they demand for a three meetings per week. You are a little hesitant about it because that only means you have to put him on Fridays as well. It's your day off.
“Please, Doctor. We will pay extra for the friday sessions.” and there it is. They offered you what you couldn’t decline the most.
Oh how nice could it be to have so much money. After finally settling with the Parks, you managed to agree on the schedules and they thanked you. They told you that they really hope you can help their son. You haven’t met him yet and one rule with doctors is you couldn’t give them false hope, but you shouldn’t give them the impression of failing as well.
“I will do my best.” and you bowed.
You parted ways with them and you went straight to your shared room with your colleague, also a good friend of yours. The moment you stepped in, you can feel her piercing and curious eyes following you.
“So did you accept it?” your head cranes over to the side to glance at Hana. She’s still wearing her white coat while she rest her back at the swivel chair. As far as you remember, her shift is over already. Why she’s still here is a big mystery for you.
“Yes. It’s a good offer.” you gave her a short shoulder shrug.
She sighs and watch how you took off your white coat then hangs it on your chair. Obviously, you are clueless of the situation you just got yourself into. She hates how workaholic you are and how you’re one of the best psychiatrist in the hospital. Mainly why you’re at the top list of the recommended doctors.
Not that she envy you or anything. She genuinely cares for you and she’s worried of how you’re overworking yourself. Not to mention you’ll be having someone very important as your client.
“Do you know who’s going to be your patient?” her tone sounded challenging, arms crossing as she waits for your answer.
You nod your head, eye glancing at the folder laid beside your keyboard. It was handed by your secretary while you discuss something with the head doctor. She reminded you to do a good job as accepting the Park’s can either do good or bad for you.
“Yes. Mr. Park Sunghoon.” you said in a monotonous tone.
She rolls her eyes, “He’s not just Park Sunghoon, y/n.” she sighs and tilts her head. “He’s the ace driver of a famour F1 team. The young bachelor who got into a terrible accident three months ago.”
That clearly rings a bell. You can remember how some of the hospital staffs are going crazy for such individual. F1 racers are truly a big thing for your country, but you’re never interested towards it so don’t have any clue who they are.
You’ve always thought that those type of sport are just out of your league. If he manages to drive for the whole country with extremely expensive cars just indicates how wealthy their family is. Sounds like so much drama for you. Not totally your cup of tea, all you want is the good pay.
“Don’t worry, I can handle.” you assured her.
“I know you’re good with your job, y/n and I have no doubt with your skills.” she starts that slightly moved you. She rarely talks like this and to hear it right now means she’s really serious about it.
“He’s known for being very stubborn. If he’s already like that before the accident, imagine how he can be much worst after it. I heard he’s refusing to do rehab for his shoulder and to drive again for his team.”
You are dumbfounded for the new informations coming from your friend. When his parents seeked for your help, you already knew that it is serious. But not like this. He’s refusing to drive again?
“y/n?” your friend tries to snap you back to reality.
You let out a sigh and flashes another smile for her. “Did you forget? I’m good with stubborn people. I've been dealing with them ever since I graduated from the University.” you tried to joke on it.
She pouts her lips and heaved a sigh, thinking that maybe she really is just overthinking things. She nods.
“Well, you are right. And besides, he’s dead gorgeous.” then she sent you a wink. You scoffed and rolled your eyes.
“You’re unbelievable.”
But it seems like she was not kidding when she said that Park Sunghoon is very hard headed. You think little of it not until you came face to face with the handsome racer.
His visuals are ethereal. No words can perfectly describe how breathtaking he is up in person. Of course, after your friend had informed you that he is handsome, you made research. Trying to just familiarize yourself with your newly acquired client.
It wasn’t hard to find something about him through the internet as he’s very famous. Skin so white and flawless, hair pitch black along with his thick brows and long eyelashes that perfectly decorates around his beautiful eyes. His eyes are slightly cold and blank at the pictures of him you found at the intenet. Over all, he has a face that comes around once in a while. God-like visuals, that’s how they describe him.
The pictures didn’t give him justice though, as he’s even more gorgeous in personal. His red lips pretty much stands out due to his pale complexion.
There are varieties of patients you’ve worked with before. The group who's willingly seek for your help in order for them to get better. Then the patients who was forced to do these sessions for the satisfaction of a family member or a loved one. And then the ones who truly hates it and give you hard time, punishing you for merely wanting to help them professionally.
That’s where Park Sunghoon is aligned. He made sure you perfectly know that he’s against with this arrangement.
“Son, meet Doctor (surname). She’s the one we’re talking about with you. From now on, you will meet her at Mondays—”
“Make her leave.” he insolently cuts his own mother’s words while staring blankly straight at you.
He’s sat down at his sofa, one shoulder have a cast over it. He didn’t even budge from his position and just stares at you with his intimidating eyes. The gray sofa looked a little small while he dominates it. You’re pretty sure that it looked normal when it was his Mom whose sitting there moments ago, but when it was him it looked small due to his large frame.
“Sunghoon, don’t be rude. Doctor (surname) is here to help you.” his Mom looks like she feels sorry for how he’s acting, yet her tone remained soft.
“I don’t need any help.” he said sternly. His eyes are piercing right at you. They are indeed intimidating with his eyebrows furrowed hardly, but this isn’t the first time someone wanted you to leave.
“But Son,” Mrs. Park tries to console him but you interrupted her.
“It’s fine, Mrs. Park.” and you flash her with your warm smile.
“Can you give us a minute?” your eyes then roamed around the room. There’s his Mom and another person inside together with you. She’s the househelper who assist Mr. Park from time to time. A little older than his Mother. Base on your observation, he seems to trust her enough to be inside this room.
“Sure, doctor.” she says and gradually asked the other lady to leave with her.
Sunghoon’s eyes burns at you as you stood in front of him. He didn’t say anything else after they left the room, he just stares at you with dark eyes. He’s so upset and angry for how his parents are dealing with this situation right now. They’re being too much for meddling with their son’s life when he’s already 27.
“Hello, Mr. Park.” you greeted him once again. As expected, he showed no reaction at all.
“I’m Doctor (surname) and I am here to help you—”
“I don’t need your help so leave. I am not crazy.” he cuts you off.
You pursed your lips and nods your head before pulling up another smile. His behavior of declining anyone clearly shows how he doesn’t want to show his vulnerability.
“Of course you’re not. Everybody knows you are not crazy, Mr. Park.” his eyes still bores right at you.
“Your parents hired me so I can help to understand your emotions even more.”
The corner of his lips lifts up as he scoffed, “You think I don’t know my own emotions?”
You shook your head right away, “No. Nobody else knows you the best other than yourself. I’m just here to assist and help you go through emotions you cannot control or understand.”
Sunghoon’s tensed shoulder slightly relaxed at what he heard. He doesn’t know if all psychiatrist are like this, but you sure are good with your job. You know your way of words to people. Or was it just because of your pretty face? Was he distracted a bit too much? Did you noticed?
He draws in a strained sigh and glanced away, letting his guard down a bit. It made you feel happy and take it as a sign that he wanted you to help him. For that session, you tried hard not to overwhelm him too much so instead of asking questions, you orient him about the case he’s possibly going through.
But that didn’t really became easy. He made sure you’re struggling on dealing with him. There’s often change of moods as well, sometimes he’s calm to have you around and sometimes he’s not. He rudely interrupts you talking and constantly asking you to just quit your job and leave him alone.
But he cannot do anything about it. He cannot fire you, because he didn’t hire you on the first place.
It was his Mother who asked for your professional help, so if there’s someone who can tell you that you’re not qualified for the job already, it would be only her.
“Hello y/n!” Hana greets you happily as she enter the room. It was obvious that she’s having a great day, unlike you.
“Hi,” you shortly replied and sat down at your chair.
“Looks like you aren’t in a good mood.” she states the obvious. You gave her a short nod and shut your eyes.
“Why? Did something happen?” she sounded so concerned about you and even walked closer to sit at the table near you.
“Nothing. I have an appointment with Park Sunghoon tomorrow. It should’ve been my day off and now I have to meet with him. He’s still being stubborn.”
It’s been a month ever since you started your sessions with him and still, nothing. He’s been giving you cold shoulders everytime, refusing to even open himself over you. Multiple approach already tried for him and yet, nothing. It’s frustrating you already.
“I know exactly what you need to do.” the brightness from Hana’s eyes gave you slight hope, making you sit straight.
She rummage over her stacks of unopenef parcels and cheered lightly after successfully finding something. She smirks and slowly walks towards you.
“What’s that?” you asked curious and confused.
She smirks and grabbed a cutter to open it up. From a distance, you can tell its a piece of clothing. She squealed a little, delighted of satisfaction for the package received.
“You’re going to wear this tomorrow.” she announced and even placed the opened box at your lap.
You tilt your head, confused. “What? Why? Do I not look good with my work clothes?”
That’s not the case. Your typical work clothes looks fine. The type of style that plays safe not to show too much skin and also not too covered for your liking. It was so-so.
“No, honey. But this time, that’s what you’ll wear tomorrow and then we will buy more at Saturday.” she announced with words of finality.
You gave her a weird gaze before checking the box she just handed you. Your heart dropped at the sight of it.
“No way! There’s no way I will wear this, Hana!” you quickly disagree and teared your gaze off the outfit she just handed you.
“Yes way! It’s time to put that sexy body into a good use!” she exclaimed all excited and even giggled hilariously.
“But my butt cheeks will probably show just by leaning down slightly.” the look of horror flashes over your face. Just by the thought of being exposed to Mr. Park makes you blush intensely, your core undeniably getting wet.
You shoved that thought away, somewhat blaming Hana for putting them inside your mind. She’s being a bad influence towards you right now and your face is red as a tomato.
“Then he will enjoy the view!” she winks and left you with no choice but to wear it for tomorrow's session.
Thankfully, the moment you arrived at his place the next day you are wearing a coat on top of your scandalous (not really) outfit. Okay, maybe you are a little exaggerating for thinking it is scandalous. You’ve seen a lot of people wear this kinds of workclothes, its just you’re new to this. This isn’t your usual go to office clothes.
You tried your best to act confidently, trying to ignore the fact that his gaze was practically glued at you the moment you took off your coat once you two are left alone.
You’re nervous already and having him stare at you that way makes it even worst. Regardless, you tried to proceed on your task for today.
Park Sunghoon may act nonchalant about it, but his pants feels so painfully tight ever since you walked inside his home. An hour long duration felt days for him. Those short skirts and body hugging top that perfectly shows your delicious curves is driving him insane.
Despite the fact that he hates your presence and how his parents hired you to help him, he’ll be lying if he will say that he never thought of rutting his cock so deep inside your precious cunt. He bet it will feel so good. Numerous times he imagined pushing you hardly over your office table, taking you from behind while your soft moans make it to his ears. He imagined fucking you so hard and deep until you cannot think straight anymore.
You on the other hand are sweating like crazy while trying to compose yourself, unaware of the sinful thoughts the man in front of you are currently having. You keep on shifting on your seat, uncomfortable with how your skirt is so tight and short. Thighs are basically suowing and by just one wrong move, you’re pretty sure your underwear will be flashed towards him.
“Something wrong, Doc?” you jolted at his sudden question, breaking the defeaning silence. It was his first words for today.
His playful tone and look on his eyes are quite foreign for you, a little delighted by the new side you discovered from him.
“N-Nothing.” your words almost came out as a mumble that made him chuckle dangerously.
To see you with less clothing sure is torture for him, to see you blushing and squirming nonstop while your underwear almost flash him is clouding his mind with so many thoughts. All dark and dirty.
“You dressed differently today.” he said in a low tone, almost like a growl. The statement halts your hand from scribbling down your paper. You glanced at him and quickly looked away as he was already staring darkly.
You gulped in attempt to get rid of the lump between your throat. The corner of his lips lifts while one of his hands plays mindlessly at it.
“Y-Yeah.” it was obvious for you to deny it.
“What are you trying to do, Doc?” he asks like a trap and once again you are caught off guard.
“I d-don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He scoffed sexily and let out a heavy sigh, “Of course you don’t.” then his eyes roams from your feet up to your face and his heated gaze stays at your eyes.
“You fucking don’t know what you are doing.” he said under his breath that you clearly missed. Even before you manage to compose yourself from his stares, he already glanced away then his walls are once again up guarding himself.
The whole session continues with you uncomfortably wet down there and Sunghoon’s dick throbbing inside his pants.
A whole week passes by and all you did was to tempt him. You started wearing tight and short clothes. Whether on purpose or not, it is driving him crazy. The sexual tension between the two of you are so hot. Too hot that whenever you are left alone, it can almost burn you two.
He knew he had to something about it. He can’t get enough of you and his palm cannot satisfy him anymore. He had to get a taste of that pussy or else he will really lose his mind.
It was wednesday and like usual, he’s the one to that have to go to your office. Mondays and friday sessions are held at his place.
He arrived perfectly on time and your assistant guided him inside after your patient before him. It was a guy and the way his face are so red when he walks out is pissing the hell off of Sunghoon. He knew why he’s like that and he confirmed his guess when he saw you with his own eyes.
Wearing a short tight red skirt. You flashed him an angelic smile that seems illegal for how slutty you dress today.
“Mr. Park, you are right on time. Have a sit.” you pointed the sofa where he usually sits and he followed without a single word.
‘I’ll have a sit and you sit on my face right after. How about that?’ he wanted so bad to say that but he refrain himself.
Sunghoon’s eyes dangerously fiest on you while you make yourself comfortable at your chair. The only thing that seperates you between him was the small center table.
“Today, I want to have a conversation with you Mr. Park. Nothing too serious, any topic you like. I just want you to talk.” you stated and smiled at him.
He nods, surprising you a little. He’s never been this cooperative. It’s making you happy and at the same time worried on why he’s suddenly being obedient.
“Any topic, right?” he asks, confirming it from you. A small nod is what you respond to him.
He nods and stayed silent for a while. You thought it was giving him pressure so you assured him that its totally fine and he can take as much time he needs.
While he spaces out, your eyes couldn’t help but to absorb how he looks today.
Park Sunghoon is a walking temptation for you. It was against your rules to be attracted towards your patients, but you just couldn’t help yourself. He’s very handsome despite his rotten attitude. You kept having this sensual thoughts whenever he’s around. It felt so wrong and illegal. How you felt so weak and how you get wet just by looking at his toned arms and veiny hands.
“Do you know who I am? Is that why you accepted to be my psychiatrist?”
You pout your lips and shook your head side to side, cheeks blushing out of embarrasment because you have no idea of who he was until his parents asked you for help.
Instead of looking offended, Sunghoon looked more interested.
“So you don’t have any idea who I was before you accepted this job?” amusment lurks over his tone, finding it somehow amusing.
Not to sound so full of himself, but he’s pretty famous. Not only to his home country, but to the whole world. The bitterness slowly creeps over his chest by the thought of it. He shoves it off his mind because that’s not important as of the moment.
You nod your head sincerely while eyes darted straight at the handsome man sat across of you. His long legs are spread while one of his arm rests at the side of the couch, the other arm on a cast. It was the one that got injured and he needed it to be casted from time to time. He’s once again making the regular size couch look small because of his tall frame.
“You live under a rock or something?” his tone taunting.
You didn’t let it get to you then just flash him a small smile. “I was busy studying.”
He pursed his lips downwards while nodding his head slowly. His brow arches attractively before he smirks again.
“Oh, right. Miss Valedictorian have no time to fool around.” he said it with so much sarcasm and sighs right after. His gaze turned slightly dark while thinking about something. To what it is, you have no idea. He was hard to read after-all.
“Let me just ask you something, Dr.” he starts. Just by the way he’s looking at you, you can already tell he’s up to no good.
You gulped, trying to get a hold of your thoughts and keep a firm look on your face. The last thing you would want is too look weak in front of him. He’ll eat you alive if you let him overpower you.
“Go ahead, Mr. Park.” you tried to sound so casual. A doctor interviewing her patient. Not crossing any line, keeping a safe distant from him.
“Are you still a virgin?” his bold question completely caught you off-guard. Your breath hitches as blood rushes over your face, blushing hard.
“E-Excuse me?” the flustered look on your face made his grin wider.
Just seeing your innocent eyes opens wider after that question was priceless. He couldn’t get enough of you. Dark thoughts occupies his mind, how you will be so perfect for him. How fun would it be corrupting the fuck out of you.
“I forbid you from asking personal questions. This has nothing to do with your sessions.” and you cleared your throat then teared your eyes off of him.
He tilts his head, “Don’t you think you’re being unfair? You ask me personal questions too.”
Your lips hangs open, ready to answer him. Sunghoon’s brows arched as he waits for what you’re about to say.
“T-That’s different. You are my patient and you—”
“How am I suppose to trust you when I know nothing about you?” his words stunned you. Truly he makes a point. In order for your patient to be confident enough to share their thoughts to you, you need to earn their trust.
How are you suppose to gain his trust when he knows nothing about you? But why does it have to be your sex life? You can share anything else, not that one.
“Then ask something else.”
He shook his head with a teasing grin. “That’s what I want to know the most.”
You stared at him straight to his eyes, silently asking him if he’s being serious about it. He didn’t budge and just stared back, piercing through your soul. You let out a strained sigh as an act of surrender before resting your back at your chair.
“Y-Yes.” you gulped, trying to get rid of the lump between your throat. The amount of embarrasment you are having right now is incomparable to anything else. You’ve never been humiliated like this.
A spark lights upon his pretty eyes, his thick pretty brows raising in amusement. He chuckles and you quickly glanced away, couldn’t take it.
“I did expect you to say yes, but to actually know it is still surprising.” he stated.
You nibbled over your lower lip then dropped your eyes at the clipboard you are holding. The paper clipped to it was almost blank, nothing else was written as he’s not cooperating as usual. But in comparison from your previous meetings, he’s more talkative as of the moment.
“So tell me, why?” he asks in full curiosity. You glanced at him with a furrowed brows, confused as to what’s he’s talking about.
“Does no one wants you? Nobody tried to— ah no, that’s impossible right? I bet a lot had tried before but they just miserably failed.” the corner of his mouth lifts as he racked his eyes from your eyes down to your feet, licking and nibbling over his lips through the process. It was almost like he’s undressing you inside his mind.
The sight itself was enough to make you feel horny, the space between your thighs slowly getting wet. It was sinful and becoming unbearable for you. The temperature of the room surprisingly became hotter because of the man in front of you.
If you’re slowly losing your mind, Sunghoon had gone crazy in his own thoughts. After hearing it from you, he lost it. The thought of how pure and innocent you are just makes him dizzy and very horny. He can think of the most awful and darkest thoughts he wants to do to corrupt you. Make you his cum dump and a slave to of his cock. It makes him riled up.
Sunghoon curses inside his mind feeling his cock getting painfully hard.
Your eyes unconsciously darted over the wall clock and a part of you cheers that finally it was times up for his session.
“O-Our session is over, Mr. Park.” you forced yourself up, thighs rubbing each other and the heat coming out from your core makes it so bothering.
You didn’t wait for Sunghoon to speak and just stood up then walk towards your table, starting to rummage over nothing. Continuously touching and arranging things that doesn’t necessarily messy.
The couch made a sound when he stood up and you can feel your heart thumping so hard as you wait for him to talk.
Instead of hearing his voice, you heard him carefully walking near you. It halts your movement and your chest rises up and down. Your breath hitched as you feel his presence looming behind him, his tall figure approaching closer.
He stopped a step behind you. The sexual tension between the two of you is sky rocket, making you feel slightly suffocated. Sunghoon raises his free arm to reach over your waist.
The moment his big hand touched you, it was over for you. The wall you tried to barricade yourself in, crumbling down.
Sunghoon inched closer pressing his hot body at your back. Your scent made its way over his nose and he nibbled his lips at how good you smell.
“We shouldn’t really—” your words hangs as his action caught you off guard.
He dipped his head down, face dangerously burying your neck. His sinful hot lips places feathery kisses over it. Your hand clenched into fists, trying hard not to make any sound or let out a moan that can surely please him.
“Mr. Park,” you tried hard to face him, hand rests over his uninjured shoulder to push him away.
The difference between your physique clearly made it obvious how your strength would not even match his and so to see him not budging from his position isn’t really surprising.
He smirks, finding you adorable while blushing so hard. His effect on you visible and he’s loving it so much. He pressed himself again and this time it’s even more dangerous as you are face to face with each other.
You can now see his ethereal visuals, his thick dark brows, eyes surrounded by thick long lashes, nose pointy with a noticeable beauty mark on it and his pretty lips. He smirks, running his tongue once over them before nibbling over his lower lip showing you his fangs.
“Just like what you always tell me...” he murmured, lips inches away from yours.
Your heart almost burst out from your chest because of the intensity he's making you feel. The urge of giving in and kissing him plays inside your head dangerously clouding your senses.
“Cooperate.” his grip over your waist tightens as he leans even closer.
The last string of resistance prevents you from kissing him on his lips, leaning away when he inched closer. His eyes lifts from your lips, to your eyes. You can see how his eyes are clouded with nothing but lust.
“Think about it, Doctor. If we both cooperate in here, we’ll get what we wants the most. It’s a win win situation.” and he tugs you closer to him making you feel his erection from his pants. So hard and its making you dizzy how he rubs it
His head leans at the side, his lips grazing slightly to bite your earlobe teasingly. It makes you feel ticklish and lightheaded.
“You, getting inside of my mind and me getting inside of you.” he seductively whispered over your ears, hot breath fanning your neck that made the hairs stands up.
Your knees weakened and he hold your waist tighter to prevent you from collapsing down the cold floor.
The intercom to your office rings and it made you jolt. Sunghoon chuckles at how adorable you are for getting surprise by small sounds.
“Doctor, I would like to remind you that your session with Mr. Park is now over. The next client just arrived.” your assistant just announced.
A heavy and disappointed sigh slips off from Sunghoon’s mouth before he moves away from you. His hands ripped away from you and the sudden lose contact made you slightly feel empty, hand gripping the table hardly to keep balance.
He noticed it and he grinned widely. He sighs and felt slightly annoyed that the fun has to be interrupted.
“I should go. You seem to have a busy day.” he turns his heels and started heading towards the door, like as if he didn’t just pulled that stunt.
Just in time, your secretary opened the door and Sunghoon glanced at you for the last time, flashing you a very meaningful smile.
“I really enjoyed this session, Doctor. I’ll see you on friday.” and he sent a wink before finally leaving you a whole mess, the space between your thighs dripping wet wanting nothing but to feel more of him.
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After what Park Sunghoon just pulled at your office, you gave it a lot of thought. He was too tempting, but something in you feels warry of the idea. He’s seriously like a wolf hunting on an innocent sheep. It was too much for you so you skipped two of your sessions. Friday and monday, sending Hana instead and making excuses that you’re outside the country for some seminar.
“Finally showing up, huh?” his dangerous tone errupts from the entrance of your office, making you jolt.
Your back was facing the direction of the door and so you have no idea how he looks right now. Gulping, you slowly turns to face him and you saw him shutting the door close. The sound of the lock clicking made your heart thump faster.
“I’m sorry, I was in a seminar. I did sent Dr. Kang in replacement for me.”
The look on his eyes tells you that there’s no slight chance that he’s buying it. And he’s pissed at you for actually thinking you can get away from him.
“P-Please have a sit.” you stutter because you have no idea of how to bring up what he just said the last time you two saw each other.
“Have you decided about what I told you?” a part of you felt relieved that he’s the one who brought it up, the other part is nervous because you have no idea what to tell him.
Your mind kept telling you no, but your core had another idea. Clearly, you want him. You want him so bad.
“A-Are you sure you will cooperate with the sessions if I give you what you want?” your tone sounded anxious and so soft.
Sunghoon’s eyes grew darker while he stares at you, legs spread so wide while he dominates your couch. He heaved a sigh, calming himself not to get so excited and scare you off with his dark plans of corrupting the shit out of you.
“Yes. I am a man of my words after-all.” he states and licked his lips.
You stared right at his eyes with your innocent looking eyes. A big grin spreads across his face the moment you nod your head, falling for his evil trap.
It felt really awkward after that and you’re just standing right there like as if waiting for what he’s going to say next.
“What s-should I do?” you asked timidly, fingers fidgetting carefully and nervously.
Sunghoon took time admiring how beautiful you look in front of him. Standing like a helpless prey, submitting to her predator. Her hungry and very horny predator.
He smiles and bit his lower lip, showing off his fangs like teeth towards you. It sends shivers on your spine, down to your core making it even more wet.
Sunghoon scoots over to the side of the couch, leaving enough space.
“Come sit here.” he ordered with his husky voice.
Your knees felt weak and your feet are stoned at your position, heart thumping so loudly inside your chest that it hurts a little.
“Don’t be scared. I don’t bite,” he scoffs. “at least not yet.” and he grinned at you.
With all your strength, you struts towards him and sat at the space beside him. To be this close to him is dangerous for you. You feel so hot, like going insane hot.
Sunghoon leans in towards your face and you instinctively moves back a little. His dark eyes moved from looking at your lips up to your eyes, silently warning you not to do that again. His hand raised and cupped your face to keep you in place. His hand so big and having it harshly holding you with so much dominance turned you on.
When his lips touches yours, you are lost. It started slow and gentle, then he started to kiss you hungrily like he’s been starved from your kisses. You shut your eyes and hand grip over his polo shirt for support as you can feel yourself losing into his touch.
Your head fuzzy at the taste of Sunghoon. A little bit of mint and sweetness. His kisses hot and messy as his tongue pushes your mouth open so he can taste your insides shamelessly.
He pulled away when you two are already out of breaths, biting your lower lip as he did so. His eyes half-lidded and clouded with nothing but lust. He looked so damn sexy.
“You taste so sweet.” he whispered near your lips, eyes darted straight at yours.
His gaze heated and so is his touch. You can feel his large hands roaming dangerously below you. His eyes serves as a distraction so it was too late before you even realize that he already pushed your skirt up, hands reaching over your clothed core. His hand expertly parting your legs for better access.
“Mr. Park—” your words cut when he placed a wet kiss on your lips.
“Call me Sunghoon.” you gulped and felt so flushed because of his fingers now playing with your core. The only thing that keeping him from touching it bare was your underwear. It was torture for you. A bit embarrased too as this is the first time someone had touched you this much.
“Already so fucking wet for me. That’s all for me, right?” he glanced back at your eyes, waiting for an answer.
Because of the overwhelming pleasure, all you did was nod your head, trapping your lower lip between your teeth.
“Words. I need words, baby.” he whispered, the sudden endearment adding to the sensation he’s making you feel at the moment.
“Y-Yes.”
“Yes what?” he asked, a bit impatient.
You whimpered when you felt him rubbing roughly at your wet core, “Yes I’m so w-wet for you.”
That sends a different kind of satisfaction towards Sunghoon. To hear you say those words just made his cock even harder. He never felt aroused just by hearing them dirty talk. This is the first time. You’re the only one who did it to him.
“I want to taste you. I bet you taste so fucking sweet.” he mumbled and you opened your eyes at what he just said, taken aback at what he’s planning to do.
“But—” he placed a kiss at your lips then kneeled beside the couch, just so he can be face to face to your heated core.
You closed your legs in attempt to hide yourself from him, but he firmly gripped your thighs pushing them back open. He shoot you blank stares.
“Hold your legs for me. Keep them wide open.” he ordered and your eyes unconsciously darted at his broad shoulders, taking notice at the cast over it.
“W-What about your shoulder?” you worriedly ask.
Sunghoon almost lose his mind at how soft and gentle your voice are. More importantly that you still have the time to think of his shoulder when you’re almost half naked in front of him.
“I’m fine.” he quickly dismissed it and placed his big hands at your thighs, supporting it so it won’t close.
Your legs are slowly moving closer, maybe out of embarrasment now that he can see your underwear fully and the wet spot in the middle of it.
One of his hand reaches over your underwear, but you stopped him.
“S-Sunghoon, I’m shy.” you admit, blood rushing towards your cheeks.
The corner of his lips lifts up at the sight of your innocent eyes watching him beneath you. The look of embarrasment and probably being neglected from orgasm painted frustration over your pretty face. He cannot explain it exactly, but it turns him on.
“It’s okay. You’re okay.” despite the look of lust over his eyes, his tone is surprisingly gentle.
“Can I take this off now?” he asks and while staring at his eyes, you had no choice but to nod your head.
He didn’t waste any second and removed your underwear, revealing your wet pussy. The sight itself was enough to leave him salivating. Sunghoon gulps and then dips his head giving one long lick to your core, juices wrapping his own tongue.
“God,” you mumble at the feeling of his hot tongue grazing your folds.
“Taste so fucking good.” he grunted and started lapping your pussy like a hungry animal. He kissed, he ate and even fuck your hole using his tongue, hardening it so you can feel him enough.
“Ngh,” you sound so dumb trying to contain your moan, afraid that your secretary from outside can hear you.
Sunghoon smirks and lifts his gaze to look at you enjoying the time of pussy being eaten. He never seen you like this before, he never thought you can even moan this erotic.
“Let me stretch you a bit, baby.” and he pulls away then spit at your hole.
“Open your eyes.” he says that made you slowly oblige. The first thing you saw was his sexy smirk, eyes so dark.
He raised his hand and while staring at your eyes, he slowly slid one of his long fingers inside you.
“Hmm, w-wait.” one of your hand lets go from your thighs so you can cover your mouth.
He chuckled, “Haha! Too much? It’s just one finger. How are you gonna take me if you’re already struggling with this?” he taunts and starts pumping it in and out, stretching you.
“You look so pretty like this, y/n. So damn pretty.” he mumbled and kissed your inner thighs while still fucking his finger knuckle deep in you.
“I think I can already add another one.” he says and you hitched your breath as you watch closely, anticipating the stretch and slight sting from it.
Sunghoon loves how obedient you are and how you just lets him do what he wants towards you. This is the first time you’ll ever experienced fingered other than your own fingers so he knew he needed to make it memorable. He added another finger and started pumping.
“Ugh, oh my gosh.” you moaned, gripping over wherever you can reach.
He kept repeating it until you can feel a knot forming your stomach, a hand clasp over his arm. “S-Sunghoon, I’m going to cum.”
His eyes sparkled, “Oh yeah? Give it to me.” he says like a challenge and continued pumping, dipping his head close to your core. He opens his mouth and placed his tongue near your hole, waiting for your sweet juice. The sight itself made you cum easily, moaning so hard and shaking a little.
“Good girl, cum so sweet.” he praised and suck your clit for any remnants of your orgasm.
You are catching your breath and he’s still pumping his fingers inside you, riding your high.
“How does that feel?”
“G-Good.”
“Then let’s do it again.”
Despite feeling drained out of energy, you looked at him with a bit of hesitation. “W-What?”
“Let me add another finger, pretty. Hold on.” and pushes your body to lay back down your previous position.
You whimpered at the amount of stretch his three fingers are giving you. This is the biggest you ever had.
“Pussy so tight. I bet we will have a hard time making my fat cock fit inside you.” his words’ making your head all fuzzy.
“Say it.” he said while staring at your eyes.
You looked at him confuse, clueless of what he’s talking about.
“W-What?”
“Say your pussy is so tight for me.”
Your cheeks flushed at how dirty those words are. You rarely cursed and never once did mutter this type of words, having him make you say this is making you feel so riled up.
“Say it, y/n. Or I’ll stop,” he shamelessly pulls his fingers out of your hole and instantly you felt empty, the other orgasm disappearing into thin air.
“S-Sunghoon,” you said a little frustrated.
“Say it.” his eyes so dark while it burn towards you.
“M-My pussy is so tight for y-you.”
Sunghoon slid his fingers right back after hearing you dirty talking. It back fired tho, as he can feel his dick throbbing painfuly inside his pants, head leaking with so much precum.
“Ah fuck, this won’t work.”
His eyes turned darker and he pulls his fingers off, making you look at him in confusion. He licked your juices on his digits before he stood back up. Your eyes grew big when you saw him unzipping his pants.
“W-What...” you are lost of words when you saw his erect cock, slapping his stomach after he took off his briefs. It is big and now you can definitely agree when he wonders how you will be able to fit him inside you.
Your face turned pale, a little scared of how painful would it be.
“S-Sunghoon, I don’t think I can—” he leans down and kissed you over your lips.
“Just the tip, baby. I promise.” he stroke his manhood and slowly near it to your entrance.
“Fuck,” he groaned when he managed to put his pulsating tip inside your hole. The stretch from a while ago did help, but only because its just his head. It stings a little, but the pleasure is unmeasurable.
“Oh God,” you mumble when he starts to pull in and out his tip.
“Keep steady for me.” and he started to keep his pace, pleasure overwhelming the two of you.
His eyes are fixed right at your pussy barely taking his tip inside. It was making him crazy.
“I’m close, Sunghoon!”
His brows narrowed and he bit his lower lip, stroking the length that doesn’t go inside you to catch your orgasm.
“Me too, fuck. Cum with me.” and after a few more thrust, you coat his head with your cum and afterwards he pulls out, spilling his outside your pussy.
You’re both a panting mess after and now that the lust is slowly withdrawing, your starting to feel shy again. He noticed it and smirks before leaning in for a kiss on your lips.
“You did so well for me.” he praised that made your cheeks flushed even more.
You pursed your lips into a pout and glanced away, eyes dropping at your exposed core.
“You got it on my skirt.” you rant cutely that made him chuckle.
“I’ll just buy you a new one.”
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Friday came faster than you expected, or maybe you’re just really looking forward on seeing Park Sunghoon once again. You parked right at his mansion and knocked on his door.
Surprisingly, Sunghoon opened the door for you. Brows hardly furrowed.
“Hi,” you greeted with a smile and blushing cheeks.
He opens his door even wider for you, “You’re late.” he sounds like he’s sulking so you chuckle a little walking pass by him. Sunghoon managed to inhale your sweet scent and he’s already feeling aroused by it.
“I stopped by at a famous bakery since you mentioned yesterday that you love bread.” and you raised the plastic containing the bread you are talking about.
When you glance at him, he was already sat down at his couch. A ghost of smile spread across his face before he gestures you to come to him. You rest your things at the table and slowly walk near him.
He reached over your hand then guided you carefully to sit over his lap, arms wrapping around your waist.
“You look beautiful today.” he compliments that tugged your heart.
“Is that why you’re hard as rock right now?” you teased and rolled your eyes at him.
He smirks, “I can’t help it.” he mumbles then showers your shoulders and neck with feathery kisses.
You shut your eyes and your hold over his arm tightens. He kissed your neck and sucked at the skin so hard you’re sure it will bruise.
“Ride me.” he commands that made you open your eyes.
The look of lust over his eyes tells you that he isn’t kidding at all. After letting out a nervous sigh, you straddle over him your clothed core perfectly aligned at his erection. The sensation of having it rub as you position yourself on top of him is making you crazy.
Sunghoon’s big hands rests at your hips, eyeing you dangerously. Watching how your face contorts at pleasure as your privates rubs at one another. He can only curse inside his mind how the sight of you humping your wet core to him is so arousing.
“Sunghoon,” you moaned that snap him out of trance.
“Yeah?” and he leaned closer kissing your chin.
“Can I suck you?”
His eyes darken at your question. He was indeed planning to make you suck his cock, but he never thought you would be the one to ask yourself. Now he didn’t regret hearing it, you are turning him on even more.
“Well well, the innocent Doctor (surname) now hungry for my cock?” he teased that made you shy instantly, stopping how you rub yourself towards him.
He chuckles, “Say it first and then I'll let you suck my dick.”
You pursed your lips into a pout then was about to turn away, “Say it, come on.” and then he hold your wrists to keep you from leaving.
You glanced at his eyes and stared hardly. Letting him see how much he affect you. How wet he is making you at the moment.
“Can I suck your cock, please?” you ask so softly that it almost broke Sunghoon.
He smirks and leans to kiss you at your lips once, “Since you ask nicely, down on your knees.” he command and you got so excited after you heard that.
You stood up from sitting on his lap and watch how he remove the knot of his sweatpants. He was left with his boxers and he slides it down as well, revealing his already hard fat cock.
You gulped, astonished at the view in front of you. Eyes fixated at the dessert you’re about to taste. You slowly went down on your knees while still staring at his pulsating cock, the tip of it so red.
“H-How do I do it?” your hand hang awkwardly on the sides and it almost made Sunghoon laugh at how adorable you are.
He grabs your hand and placed it at his knees, making you tear your gaze from his dick and look at his lustful eyes. He smiles, fangs showing.
“Calm down, baby. Don’t get too excited. I feel like you will bite off my dick.” he joked that made you pout. He chuckled and leaned forward for a peck on your lips before resting his back at the couch once again.
“Okay, open your mouth and then rolled your tongue out. Flat them good for me.” he instructs that you quickly followed.
The shyness wearing off as the heat of horniness taking over. You don’t care anymore, all you want is to taste his cock inside your mouth.
“That’s it. Then hold my length, not too tight. It’s your friend, not your enemy.” he chuckles playfully and you just keep follow him.
“Now lick the tip. Lick or suck, just no teeth.” he reminds and you dived in, not wasting any second.
He tasted a bit salty, but good. You cannot explain what exactly it is but the type of taste you will look for from time to time. You hold his dick and looked at its tip, becore sucking it good making Sunghoon groan in pleasure.
“Fuck baby, you’re so thirsty for my cock.” and his hand rests on top of your head when you started bobbing it out of instinct.
“Just like that— damn, it feels so good.” he moaned, groaning while biting his lips deliciously.
“Look at me.” he demands that you oblige, making him go insane.
“Goddamn those eyes. I will cum if you keep looking at me like that.” he said in a husky voice that sent shivers in your spine.
You hummed sending vibrations on his dick that gave him ultimate pleasure.
“Keep going, pretty.” and with his guidance you continued bopping and sucking his delicious cock like a lollipop. It felt so satisfying hearing his moans and having him tightly gripping your hair out of pleasure.
“I’m gonna fucking cum,” he grunts so you kept your pace and he started fucking into your mouth, making you slightly gag on his fat dick.
He didn’t stop until he shoots his hot cum at the depth of your throat, making sure you swallow every drop of it. You did as he told, rolling your eyes as you continue sucking him dry. Sunghoon grunts at the sight of you.
“So good for me.” he mumbles and pulls you up to give you a kiss at your lips.
The day ended with you actually doing your session. This time, you can really tell he’s trying to be more cooperative. Answering questions from you about his childhood and all, trying to familiarize you more about him.
You left that day with a sweet kiss on his lips and small gropping. He’s just really naughty and you cannot get enough of him.
Your routines became making out, foreplays, makeouts then session with Sunghoon. Two weeks passed by so quickly and you two grew closer and intimately. Another weekend came and you spent it with Hana, trying to find good clothes and other girly things.
“How was it with Mr. Park Sunghoon?” she asks raising her brow teasingly.
Your cheeks blushed and eyes dropped at your food instantly. Just by then she realized that something is really happening between you and the f1 racer and so she squealed happily and didn’t stop bugging you to tell her everything.
“I always knew he have the hots for you.” and she winks, delighted that her friend is finally having the sex she deserves.
“What? No. Maybe he’s just bored and—”
“Oh come on! Sunghoon can have any girls he wants and yet he picked you. He isn’t the type to go fuck around girls as well, y/n. He may look like a player, but that dude is loyal.” she even whistles.
“How’d you know?”
She shrugs her shoulder, “He had only one ex-girlfriend and not once did I heard him getting involve with someone else.”
Your heart sank at what you heard. Lately, Sunghoon has been making you feel special. Despite him being mean sometimes, his gestures still tugs your heart. And to think that you learnt about this ex lover of his being the undefeated champion for his heart is hurting your heart.
“Don’t worry! They’re already over.” she assured you after noticing the look of horror on your face.
That didn’t wipe away your worry, since you could tell she has something to do why Sunghoon refuses to talk about his hard refusal of driving for his team again.
“Why did they broke up?” you couldn’t help yourself but to ask.
She pursed her lips trying to recall the article she saw the moment the news broke to the media. It was not that big of a scandal, but still they’re both a famous and public personality. There are a lot of people invested in their love journey.
“I’m not sure, but as far as I remember it was her who calls it off.” she says that made you even more insecure about it.
Hana seems to be ignorant about the fact that you’re starting to overthink things and just diverts the topic into something else. You tried hard to push back whatever that is that’s bothering you, but it was no use. Your heart feels heavy just by thinking of where you stand at Sunghoon’s life.
He didn’t mentioned anything about taking things seriously. You wanted to get into his mind, talk to him and help him get through this phase of his life. On the other hand, he wants to get in your pants and use you for pleasure. That’s it? You should not get worried and shrug it off, but you can’t. Because no matter how much you deny it, you are slowly catching feelings with him.
And to think that the possibility of him still having hang ups with his ex are breaking your heart.
Monday came faster than expected. The weekends spent mostly by you overthinking things. It was slightly exhausting, but again it was overpowered by the thought of seeing Sunghoon once again. Excitement feeling your chest as you parked right at the hospital to meet some of your morning clients.
Time passes by so slow as you keep glancing at your wall clock, begging for it to go faster. After your third client, your intercom rings.
“Doctor, you are asked to go to the conference room to attend a meeting.” your secretary announced.
Your brows furrowed as you glanced at your calendar beside your table, finding it odd that it wasn’t recorded to your schedule. Meaning its either its an unplanned meeting or you forgot to just include it.
You pressed the button to your intercom, “Alright. Thank you.”
The conference room are packed with some doctors and at the center of it was the director. His eyes lights up at the sight of you and you tried to flash a smile for him. He continued talking about some reminders and changes at the hospital protocols.
Your eyes unconsciously darts at the clock and saw that its almost your session with Sunghoon. Remembering that you forgot to inform him, you tried to check your phone from your pockets and realized you don’t have it with you.
You almost cheered silently when the director said his ending remarks for the meeting. Everyone stood up and claps for him. When you’re about to leave the conference room, he calls for you. It made you hesitant, but since you don’t want to make a scene you just walk near him.
“Your ward will be provided with new equipments.” he started and even looked over the folder holding the lists of things your department requested.
Your shoulder relaxed a bit, thinking that he’s not totally up for something weird. Its just that you represented the department as everyone else have something to do. Slowly, the people inside the room left one by one. Even before you realize it, you are alone with the director already.
“Can you check if there’s anything missing?” he asks seriously and even handed you the folder.
You nod and carefully checks the list. While deeply into it, you yelped when you’re suddenly pushed towards the table. His body pressing hardly behind you. Tears quickly pool your eyes in terror, head hurting as it hits the table.
“M-Mr. Cha w-what are you doing?!” you panicked and even try to push yourself back up.
He grunts and pushed you even harder, holding your position. You cried and shut your eyes, wishing that this is just a dream. A very bad dream. You felt his hot breath near the back of your ears and something hard pressed at your but. It felt disgusting, you felt disgusted with yourself.
“Shut the fuck up and just take this bitch.” he mumbles scarily and started grinding himself at you.
“N-No, please stop—” you cried even harder feeling him from outside your clothes and its so horrifying.
“Shh, don’t cry. I won’t put it inside. It’s too early for that...” he said lowly and even caress your face. You moved away from his touch and he just scoffed.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve taught of doing this to you.” he groans and you can feel him going faster, reaching his climax.
It was horrible, but you just stood still as you are helpess. Tears keep streaming down your eyes, unable to even say anything. You bit your lip, shutting your eyes tightly.
When he finished, he leans in and forcedly pressed a kiss at your lips. The moment he lets go of you, you bolted your way out of there. Thankfully, you didn’t stumble with some colleagues or else they would be wondering why you’re crying and dress all crumpled up.
You’re traumatized after what happened. You’ve been inside your vehicle parked underground the hospital. Tears doesn’t even stream from your eyes anymore, you just sat there feeling so numb and disgusted. You feel disgusted about yourself. Just every place he touched you.
Your head slowly cranes to the side when you heard your phone ringing. Sunghoon’s name flashing through it. Right, you’re late to your session with him. After a while, your screen turns black meaning you’ve missed the call already.
It lits up once again because he’s trying to call again. Your heart tugs and slowly reached for your phone.
“H-Hello?” you stuttered.
A big sigh is what’s greet you. “Finally!” he spats. “I’ve been trying to call you for an hour. I thought something bad happened to you.” he sounded a little irritated.
“I’m sorry, I was c-caught in a meeting.” the memory flashes back to your mind.
“It’s fine. I just got worried.” you missed what Sunghoon said as your mind slowly spaced out.
He noticed you being silent from the other line so he sighed, “Hey, I’m not mad. I was just really worried.” he repeated, thinking you thought he’s angry.
When he still didn’t receive any response, his brows furrowed hardly.
“Baby?” he calls softly, snapping you back to your senses.
“S-Sorry, yeah?” you sniffed.
“Are you okay? Did something happen?”
Your heart sank at what you heard. The amount of emotions mountaining inside you are unexplainable. You want to scream, cry and tell him everything but you are scared. Scared as hell on what will happen after.
“Yeah I’m f-fine.” only case is, you’re not.
“Are you coming here?”
“Yes.”
You really want to see him. Something in you tells you that Sunghoon can help. That seeing him can help you.
“Okay. Drive safely.”
You bid goodbye and drove towards his house with one thing inside your mind. What happened to you a while ago and what the director did you to you just means he will not stop just like that. If there’s anyone you want to give yourself in for the first time, it would be Park Sunghoon. You want to give yourself to him.
When you arrived his place, Sunghoon was the one of who opened the door for you. He can’t even say hi because you quickly wrap your arms over his nape, pulling him closer. You crashed your lips on his and start kissing him passionately.
Despite being surprised, Sunghoon caught on and kissed back. He doesn’t understand why you’re suddenly like this, but he cannot reject and stop you. No. Never. Not when you look so beautiful desperate for him. Desperate for his kisses and touch.
He pushed your body to the door and started kissing you hungrily, hands roaming your body like they have a body of their own.
“What’s gotten into you?” he asks, catching his breath.
Your lustful eyes stared right at his swollen lips. “I just missed you.”
Sunghoon’s eyes soften at what you said and leans back in for another heated kiss. Both of his large hands rests at your hips, gripping them tightly.
“H-Hoon,” you moaned when he starts to kiss and suck the skin on your neck.
He hummed on your skin, sending so much pleasure. Your hands plays over his hair, pulling it softly.
“Fuck me.”
Sunghoon was stoned at his position when he heard you mutter those words. He pulled away slightly, enough to look at your eyes.
“What did you say?”
You looked at him straight in the eyes.
“Please fuck me.”
Sunghoon went wild after hearing it. He licked his lips and placed a kiss on top of your hand. “You sure?”
You nod continuously, wanted so bad to forget what happened earlier at the conference room.
“All right, let me prep you—” you hold his arm.
“N-No,” you gulped. “I want to feel it. I want it to hurt.”
He furrowed his brows and looked at you in confusion. He’s not gonna lie, he’s all riled up with you saying these things but he cannot help but to think what happened to you. For the past month that he knew you and been doing stuff with you, he’s never seen you like this. He feels like something’s wrong.
“Is everything okay?” he asked all concerned.
You want to dodge that question as much as possible so you glanced away. His firm hold over you softens as he try to catch your eyes.
“Hey, you good? If you want to do this, I want you to be sure. I need to prep you so it will hurt less—”
“I said I don’t mind!” you burst and shoot him glares. Your emotions are getting the best out of you.
“You know what, nevermind! If you don’t want to do it then I’ll find someone else!” you yelled. Of course that was a lie, but you try to save yourself from too much embarrassment.
You’re about to walk away from him, but he grabbed you by the wrist. When you meet his eyes, shivers run through your spine because Sunghoon’s eyes are so dark.
“Why the fuck would you say that?” he looked so mad and your lips shake unable to even say anything.
“You want it to hurt? I’ll make it hurt.” and he threw you over his shoulders making you slightly yelp.
“H-Hoon,” he walked towards somewhere.
Realizing he entered a room, Sunghoon placed you on the middle of the big bed. You looked at him, nervous. He smoothly took off his shirt and you fold your legs. His toned body made you at awe.
He stretches and grabbed your leg pulling you closer to him. His hand find your skirt and he started taking it off. He dipped his head to smash his lips onto yours. Your eyes shut, getting drown by his sweet, sloppy kisses.
“You don’t say those words at me, y/n. Finding someone else to fuck you?” he said after he pull away and manages to take off your skirt. His eyes turned dark as he let out a scoff with no humor.
“Now, I’m going to fuck you so hard and you’re going to take it all like a good bitch.”
His words are enough to make you wet down there, but you know it wasn’t enough to make it less painful. With the length and thickness of his cock, it will surely hurt like hell.
“W-Wait—” you sound scared.
Sunghoon didn’t mind and just pushed your body down the bed, his big hand wrapping around your neck. His other hand started stripping off your underwear.
“Shut the fuck up.”
He moved away and started removing his sweatpants. His dick was hard already, slapping at his stomach after he took off his boxer shorts. The view itself was salivating for you. It made your fear disappear for a split second. Tho it all went back when he approached you and spread your legs wide for him.
His eyes are darkly focused down at your slightly wet core.
“H-Hoon,” he didn't say anything and spit on his palm before stroking his hard cock.
You’re about to say something but his dark eyes looked at you. The corner of his lips lifts a little as he position his tip at your entrance. Your heart thump in fear and excitement. Multiple times you two did foreplays and you’ve been imagining his cock entering you. Now, it’s really gonna happen.
“Do you trust me?” he asks in a low tone.
You nod your head.
“I will make it hurt so you wouldn’t forget who took you first.” he mumble so ruthless and then pressed his body closer.
Your lips pursed as his cock slowly enters you. It was hard, Sunghoon cannot even push inside as it was so tight for him. He clenched his jaw, couldn’t get enough of the feeling of your tight cunt squeezing his tip.
“Fucking tight,” he growled and thrust harder.
You yelped at the feeling of being painfully stretched by his dick. The pain was unexplainable, something you never felt before. Your hold over his arm tighten, eyes becoming teary. Sunghoon searches for your lips as he continues taking your virginity, cursing inside his mind how good this pussy is. How tight and perfect for him to ruin.
“S-So big,” you cry out.
“Just a little bit more, baby.” he whispered to your ears.
He’s not yet fully in but you already feel so full. It was unbelievable. Your eyes tightly shut, nails digging over his broad back.
“There we go,” he sighs when you finally managed to take all of him.
He pulled away slightly just to get a good look of his cock buried deep inside of you. Your pussy so red and full. It looked so tight with his dick filling you completely. He fits you perfectly that its no doubt that this pussy belongs to me.
“You’re mine now, y/n. Hear me?” he growled and leaned his body down as he start to move his hips, thrusting in and out.
“I’m claiming this pussy mine.” and he bit your shoulder, pistoning his hips harder and faster.
He didn’t even ask if you adjusted already. He was so lost by the pleasure you are giving him. He continued fucking you fast and hard that you’re starting to see stars. It was amazing. Painful, but amazing.
“Ngh,” you moaned when its started to feel a little better. He smirks and tries to catch a glance at your face.
“You’re taking me so well, baby. You’re such a good girl.” he mumbled and looked back at your privates hitting each other continuously.
“So pretty. So perfect for me.” he kept mumbling like a prayer.
You got lost on how long he’s been abusing your hole until he finally cum on your stomach. Sunghoon’s not the type who gets tired right away after a round, but this one’s different. The kind of pleasure and emotions he poured in this one is something he has never done before.
He crashed beside you and gently pulled you towards him, making your head rest over his chest. A peck on your forehead and then he rest his chin on your head.
“Thank you.” you mumbled, after finally gaining back some senses.
He scoffed and wrapped his arm around you. “Thank you for hurting you?”
You chuckled and nuzzled over his chest.
“Well, I did asked for it.”
“You did, baby.”
The two of you fell silent before your eyes caught a glimpse of some of his trophies.
“Did you want to be a racer ever since you were a kid?”
“Oh, my psychiatrist is back? Damn. I’m kind of enjoying my cuddles at the moment.” he said sarcastically.
“I just want to know.” you giggled.
He heaved a sigh, clearly thinking through it.
“I grew up loving cars. My uncle used to take me with him whenever he watch f1 racers. I thought it was cool and wanted to be like them.” he started and you just listened to him.
“And you did.” you uttered so proudly.
“My Mom was against it at first. Saying that its dangerous. But I just couldn’t stop myself from pursuing it. I just feel so alive doing it. The sound of the roaring engines, the thrill of the speed and the smell of the tires scratching over the race track. Its just... different.” he mumbles.
He didn’t say anything, but you felt his tension slightly disappearing. Your hand that was hugging him starts to caress his back, lowkey letting him know that you’re there beside him.
“I used to love racing.”
“You still love it.” you declared like you’re so sure of it.
He didn’t respond right away. Like something’s occupying his mind right now. The thought of his ex girlfriend made it to you and slowly, you pulled away from his hug.
You looked straight to his eyes and gulped.
“Does your ex girlfriend has something to do why you don’t want to race anymore?”
You can clearly saw how his eyes turned cold and the emotions in his face drained. He looked like how he was when you first met him.
Your heart cracks when he pulled away from you and leave the bed before starting to grab his clothes.
“I’ll get you a fresh towel so you can take a bath.” he suggested with cold voice.
“Sunghoon, I’m s—”
“Let’s skip today’s session. You can leave after you take a bath.” and he walked away to get the things you will be needing. Leaving you dumbfounded and heart’s aching.
You have no idea what just happened, but the f1 racer sure does know how to fucking hurt you both physically and emotionally.
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tag-list:
@candewlsy @nyfwyeonjun @sunghoonizz @jaehyuniewifeu @imjakes-wifeofc1 @deobitifull @enhypens-hoe @yzzyhee @nyxtwixx @crimnalseung @vixensss @jjklvr9 @gonorrheaisme @lhspeachie @myboyfriendjungkook @capri-cuntz @brooklyninawhitemustang @woniebae @ma-riiii @tinie03 @seokseokjinkim @iheartjayke @hybeboyenthusisast @minniejenseo @shelovsme @sjakewrld @shawnyle (i can’t tag some of you, sorry)
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syluss-slut · 4 months ago
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DHAHGFAHDHJAHDHHSHJAJDHSHDGAAAAAAAAAAAAA
THE WAY HIS TOWEL STARTS FALLING LAWWWWWDDDD— 😩😮‍💨
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lovelettersfromluna · 7 months ago
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Welcome to the Party
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Summary: what’s worse than your older brother?…..his extremely attractive best friend
an: this Ellie has been living rent fucking free in my head and I absolutely cannot carry on any longer without writing about her…..also my last Ellie fic was sickly sweet I need some mean!Ellie to soothe the burn 😌 (also credit to @absdoll for writing Ellie as someone who listens to PartyNextDoor?? That is a HUGE reason that inspired me to write this bc that is absolutely so very accurate)
Warnings: SMUT!!! MDNI!!! 18+ ONLY!!, angst!, toxic!Ellie, mean!Ellie, brothersbestfriend!Ellie, Ellie is just all around a piece of shit in this one idk, oral (r!receiving), mentions of alcohol, mentions of weed, Usage of the word slut, slight degradation, there’s a brief scene with reader and Jesse but they aren’t flirting I promise Ellie is just delusional, pls lmk if I missed anything!
“Please honeybee? It’ll only be for a little while. Your father and I will be back before you know it, just in time for you to go back with your friends” your mothers voice rang through the phone, her tone gentle and reassuring as she spoke to you.
You exhaled loudly in annoyance, toying with the hem of your sleep shorts as you laid in your bed, a soft pout on your face as you stayed silent for a moment, contemplating your mother’s wish.
“Baby? Are you there?” She tried. You can practically hear the way she bites her lip, chewing on the skin as she awaited your response.
“I….you do realize that Derek is the oldest sibling, right? Isn’t he supposed to be the one making sure I’m not getting in trouble?” You huff out, still holding out on giving her an answer to her request of you.
You hear her sigh over the line at the mention of your older brother. “I know sweetheart…but your father and I just need you to make sure he doesn’t burn the house down while we’re away. I’m sure it’ll only be him and Ellie there anyways” she tries assuring you.
But the mention of the girls name has your skin running cold.
It makes you pinch the bridge of your nose, inhaling deeply as you truly try to outweigh your options at hand.
Your brother was a fucking moron, and you knew that the minute he heard your parents were going away for the summer, he jumped at the opportunity to ‘house sit’. It was almost comedic how clueless he was, your parents knowing your older sibling far too well to know that he’d tear the house down brick by brick unsupervised, especially with his partner in crime there with him.
So it left your poor mother to ask her baby (you), to stay the summer at their house, just to make sure things didn’t get too out of hand.
The minute she called and asked you to go down there, your entire summer had changed. All of the plans you made with your friends at university, the trips you were to make with them, all suddenly fizzled out as you were faced with the task to spend the summer with your idiotic brother and his bully of a best friend.
As much as you wanted to say no, tell your parents to figure it out or simply tell your brother he couldn’t stay there for his break, you simply couldn’t find it in yourself to do that. Your parents were amazing to say the least, and the one time they actually chose to go away for the summer in one of the first times since you were born, you’d feel like an absolute villain to take that away from them.
You let out a low sigh before you finally spoke. “I’ll be there mom….you won’t have to worry about anything” you assured her, the sound of her sighing in relief putting a gentle smile on your face.
“Oh baby you are an angel. Your father and will come home as soon as we can, okay?” She assures you, to which you give a gentle chuckle before you nod.
“Have fun, okay? Tell daddy I said hi…I love you” you mumble out gently through the phone, bidding your goodbye to the woman before you hang up, letting out a loud sigh you’d seemingly been holding from the moment your mother asked you to go back home for the summer.
And as you stared up at your ceiling, you began to really think about it all. How bad could it possibly be?? It wasn’t like you were all kids still, there was no way Ellie and your brother would torment you the same way they used to when you were all younger, not when you were all adults in college, right?
Right?
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You let out a soft sigh as you drove down the familiar road to your parents house, the street quiet as everyone there had similar situations to your mother and father, empty nesters who had time to get away for the summer.
Pulling into the driveway gives you a bit of relief, as you notice your brother hadn’t gotten there yet, which you could only chalk up to him and Ellie waking up entirely too late after a night of partying to get to the house at a decent time.
Some things just never changed do they?
Your brother and Ellie had been friends since elementary school, the two of them glued at the hip for almost as long as you could remember. While you really couldn’t stand the two of them, you had to say the perseverance of their friendship was kind of remarkable. You couldn’t take their bond away from them, no one could.
One day the house was only filled with your parents and your older sibling, the next there’s an extra person.
Ellie.
Things were fine in the beginning, the three of you would actually play all together for the most part. Sure, they would tease you and leave you out of certain things, but that’s what older siblings did. You were no stranger to the little sister treatment.
Things changed when they got to high school though.
The two of them started a year before you obviously, leaving you behind in middle school. You’d been through it with the transition from elementary to middle school, so you weren’t too worried. In fact, having the two of them enrolled before you was comforting in a way. It at least gave you a sense of belonging since you knew at least two people there.
But oh were you wrong.
Because in true teenage boy fashion, who the hell would want their little sister trailing behind them? No your brother and Ellie were far too cool for that, the two of them already the talk of the entire school, everyone wanting to be their friend. It was always like that, the dynamic duo absolutely stealing the hearts of everyone around them. They simply couldn’t have you asking for help on where your classes were, or even worse, having you eat lunch with them.
You weren’t even given the cold shoulder, they were just outright mean. Your brother wasn’t so bad, brushing you off and telling you to go somewhere else.
But Ellie? Oh she was vile.
She’d say the meanest things to get you to leave, laughing under her breath whenever you’d pass by, she’d even go out of her way to make her entire friend group ignore you for a week, pretending you didn’t exist at all.
Yeah, high school is when things got really bad.
You have up on keeping the familiar sibling bond you had with your brother rather quickly during your time in high school with him, ignoring the both of them when they were around, only really interacting with him whenever Ellie wasn’t with him, which was extremely rare.
Soon, you were going off to university, and you were able to live a life that wasn’t in your cool older brother’s shadow. You were able to be you, and thrive in a way that you really weren’t able to before.
You loved college for that.
But now you were back home where it all started, without the protection of mommy and daddy on top of that too.
You groaned softly as you finally brought the last of your things up to your room, sighing softly as you looked around at the familiar space, thinking about just how much time you’d be spending there for the next month and however many weeks.
You were almost done filling your empty drawers with your clothes when you heard the familiar roar of your brother’s black Jeep pull up the driveway outside, a familiar brunette sat in the passenger seat.
The plan was to steer clear of them entirely while you were all there. You were only there for your moms peace of mind, and you truthfully did not care what Ellie and your brother got up to for the summer, as long as it meant your parents house stayed in tact.
However once you’re finished packing and you decide to make your way downstairs to get a feel for things before they both arrive (or so you thought), you were only met with the sound of your brother and Ellie complaining very loudly as they walk in through the front door.
“I told you I don’t know! My dad said it was cool if we crashed here, they didn’t mention anything about her being here too.” Derek groans loudly, lugging his suitcase in behind him, unknowing of your presence stood in the very kitchen that he was walking in to.
You turn your head to catch the two of them walking in, your brother sighing in defeat as Ellie groans loudly behind him, throwing her head back in annoyance. “Do you know how much of a fuckin’ cock block she’s gonna be? I swear to god if she tries to so much as complain about the shit we’re having I’m gonna-“ you watch as your brother jabs his elbow into Ellie’s side, trying to get her to shut up once he spots you in the kitchen.
You roll your eyes as you close the fridge door shut. “It’s nice to see you too Ellie” you sigh out softly as you turn around, resting your forearms against the island counter top, leaning your hips against the edge as you watch the both of them eye you expectantly, your best guess being they wanted an explanation.
“What are you doing here?” Your brother mumbles out awkwardly, arms crossing over his chest as he gives neglects to even greet you properly.
You sigh softly before you shrug. “Mom called me and asked me to make sure you guys didn’t do anything stupid. Trust me, I’m just as upset as you are that I’m here” you mumble out, eyes casting downwards as your fingers trace along the pattern of the smooth counter top.
Ellie scoffs softly, mimicking your brother’s stance as her tattooed arms go to cross over her chest as well. “Is this some kind of sick joke? What are you even supposed to do anyways? Keep us in line or something?” Ellie barks out, obviously annoyed and wounded over the fact that your parents didn’t trust her.
You have to hold back a laugh, biting down on your bottom lip as you give her a shrug. “That’s something you gotta take up with the owner of the house, which unfortunately for you is not my brother” you hum out, your tone a tad playful as you give your brother a knowing look before rounding the table.
“Your summer is gonna be fine. In all honesty I couldn’t give a single fuck what you two do, just do it without breaking anything.” you explain, your tone softer as you eye Ellie for a moment.
You had to bite back a smirk when you caught a glimpse of their faces. Your brother was shocked with the way you were acting, his eyebrows raised and jaw slightly agape as you made your way upstairs.
Ellie on the other hand? She looked like she wanted to kill someone. Here you were, her best friends little sister, practically granting her entire summer a death sentence by your presence, at least that’s what it felt like. Her eyebrows were furrowed, nostrils flared, and you swore you could even catch her freckled cheeks growing pink with the anger that bubbled up inside of her.
And to be quite honest? It felt good.
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Ellie was being ruthless
While you couldn’t say you didn’t expect it, you didn’t think it would be this bad. You of course knew that they’d be upset about you being there, but your brother’s reaction to the entire thing was much closer to what you prepared for than what Ellie was exhibiting. He was confused to say the least, but that didn’t mean he was rude to you. It was the same as any other time you and your brother were with each other, you weren’t close by any means, but you were his little sister.
Ellie on the other hand? She was like a bat out of hell.
You thought when they first got there, that would be the only time you’d get a taste of Ellie’s annoyance with your presence. You were adults after all, and there was no way she’d make your entire stay there a living hell, even when you weren’t the one that had the bright idea of staying there anyways.
Oh were you wrong.
That same night, you decided to make somewhat of a peace offering. You were honest in your words to them earlier, you didn’t have any interest in raining on their parade. Ruining their summer did little to nothing for you, even if they went out of their way to taunt and tease you when you were a kid, you didn’t dwell on any of that.
You prided yourself as somewhat of a good cook. You took over meals once you were old enough to stand at the stove without your parents doting over you, begging you to not burn yourself. Once you passed that hurdle, you all came to the realization that you were pretty good in the kitchen. You could even recall certain times where Ellie and your brother would ask you to make something for them, further proving your skills.
So while they were both in the front yard playing basketball, you knew they’d work up an appetite once they came inside. You took it upon yourself to start working on something with what your parents had in the fridge.
You were far too lost in thought once you got into it, humming softly to yourself as you stirred up what you were working on in a pan. You barely heard your brother and Ellie walk in together, chucking to each other at something Ellie was saying. The two were engulfed in the aroma of your yummy cooking the second they walked in, watching as you worked your way around the kitchen to cook something up for the two of them.
“You cooked?” Your brother asks curiously, moving to rest his forearms on the island as he watched you.
You hummed softly as you nodded, keeping your eyes on the various pots on the stove. “There wasn’t much in the fridge, so I’ll have to go food shopping tomorrow maybe…but I figured you’d both be hungry” you finally turn around, giving them both a half smile.
Your brother nodded, seemingly opening his mouth to thank you for the kind gesture, his stomach already grumbling for a taste of whatever it was that you were cooking, all of it smelling ten times better than anything he’d been eating for the past two years at college.
But Ellie was quick to cut him off, eyebrows furrowed as she gave you a death stare so intense, it was a miracle you hadn’t keeled over from it alone.
“We’re going out to eat” she deadpanned, her tone firm and harsh.
It makes you turn around fully after lowering all the spots on the stove, grabbing the kitchen towel you kept nearby and drying your hands off, your hips resting against the kitchen counter as you watched them.
Your brother frowned as he looked up at Ellie in confusion, the man clearly not have gotten the memo.
“We…are?….but you were just saying how tired-“ He mumbled out softly before Ellie landed a hard jab to his side with her elbow, making your brother quickly shut his mouth, getting her message loud and clear.
Ellie didn’t want anything from you.
You inhaled deeply, fighting back the urge to stoop down to her level, no matter how much it stung that she was doing this out of spite, simply over something that was asked of you.
“That’s…that’s fine. I hope you guys have fun” you gave them a nod and a soft smile before you turned around to continue working on the food that you’d be eating alone.
Ellie’s angry expression softened into a frown when you didn’t fight back, fully expecting you blow up and make her seem like the victim who’s getting her summer ruined by some fucking she-demon or something. But you didn’t, you simply bid them a good time and turned around to busy yourself with whatever you were doing.
Your brother frowned as he watched you turn around, already feeling bad for not only leaving you alone for the night, but making you eat alone felt even worse.
But Ellie was already scoffing, mumbling softly to your brother to come upstairs with her so they could get changed and leave so they could get something to eat, her eyes lingering on you angrily as she stomped upstairs like a child.
You spent that night alone, eating your dinner with a glass of wine, showering and watching a movie downstairs, silently hoping the pair would have a change of heart and walk through to spend the night with you, acting as a way to kick off the summer on a better note than it was already starting off on.
But they never did. You ended up doing all of that and more and they still didn’t get home. You decided to simply send your brother a quick text letting them know you’d leave the porch light on and to get home safe before you went to bed.
That wasn’t the end of Ellie’s little scheme of being terrible to you. No, that was honestly only the beginning.
The second time of her being mean was about a week later. You managed to stay clear of the both of them for a few days, busying yourself with getting the house situated for yours, Ellie and your brothers stay. You got a good amount of things done, groceries, laundry, getting your car through the car wash. You even picked up a dozen bagels from yours and your brother’s favorite bakery in the city nearby, knowing how much him and Ellie would appreciate them for breakfast, even if you knew she’d bitch once she knew you bought them.
But once all of those chores were done, you found that you’d started to run out of things to keep you occupied. There was no more laundry to do, no more groceries to buy, nothing more for you to tend to that would keep you away from the house.
You were bored out of your mind.
You sighed softly as you laid in your bed, staring up at your ceiling as you toyed with the hem of your denim shorts. You were contemplating what to do, how to entertain yourself in the confides of your bedroom. It was hard because Ellie and Derek spent almost all of their time in the living room, leaving you to either do things outside of the house, or stay in your room.
It made you sad, because you wouldn’t have this problem had you stayed at Uni. You would’ve been outside with your friends, at parties, restaurants, bars. Anything that there was to offer in the city, you’d be there.
Another huff passed through your lips, your arms moving down to rest against your pillow. You were beginning to get desperate, your mind void of any ideas to keep yourself occupied.
You sat up, looking towards your door for a moment before you looked back down at your hands in your lap, your mind falling deep in thought before you finally let out a sigh. You felt ridiculous, forcing yourself to be a prisoner in your own home for your own comfort. Ellie didn’t even fucking live here, this was your parents house and you deserved to walk around as you pleased!
So you finally tossed your legs over the edge of your bed, and opened your door to go downstairs.
The second your room door was open, you could hear Derek and Ellie downstairs, the two of them laughing and shouting at each other. As you walked down the stairs, you could hear the sounds of their video game playing through the speakers, paired with the sound of their fingers harshly clicking down on the buttons of their game controllers.
Video games sounded fun.
You hummed softly as you watched them from the bottom of the stairs for a moment before you walked into the living room, simply watching the two hunched over, completely locked in on their current match.
“Don’t fuckin’ push by yourself you’re gonna die. Lemme just heal really quick” you hear Ellie groan out to your brother.
“I’m good! I’m good I got this” your brothers words follow, a blanket of silence falls between the two of them, only to hear your brother and Ellie groan loudly in unison, followed by Ellie sucking her teeth in annoyance.
“I told you not to fucking-“ her words are cut short when she notices you in the corner of her eye, the girl deflating as she slouches back into the couch, her eyes back on the screen.
“Great…” she mumbles out, which you try your best to ignore before taking a spot on the opposite end of the couch, tucking your legs underneath yourself as you nod towards the tv.
“How many have you guys won so far?” You hum out softly.
Your brother’s eyes don’t leave the tv screen as he responds, fingers already clicking away at his controller the second Ellie managed to resurrect him in the game. “A good amount…especially when Ellie’s here to save my ass” he grins out, which earns an annoyed sigh from Ellie.
You hum softly as you nod, watching as their characters run around on the split screen, the two of them looting and taking out other players as the number of people in the game grows lower and lower, waiting until the game was almost over.
“Could you guys use a third?” You ask softly after clearing your throat, eyes still glued to the screen as you watch them play.
Derek licks his lips as he continues playing, his eyes quickly shifting over to Ellie for a moment to gauge her reaction to your question before he responds.
You and him would play video games all the time together, and there were even times where all three of you would play together. Sure, they’d do petty shit like leave your character in the storm to die when you needed help or made sure your controller was close to dying, but they’d at least let you play from time to time.
However, Ellie was quick to speak up and give you a response.
“No. You’re shit at this game” Ellie quickly responds, pink tongue sticking out of her mouth as she concentrates on the game.
While you can tell she’s not joking, her words make your brother chuckle softly as he gives her a gentle nudge. “I’m sure one game is fine? Watching her play will be kind of funny to be honest” he tried, yet Ellie wouldn’t budge.
She shook her head firmly. “Nah. She’s gonna fuck up our winning streak. Weren’t you upstairs anyway? Why did you even come down here….go back up” her eyes finally break away from the screen once the game was finished, looking over at you and nodding her head up towards the stairs.
And while Ellie would sometimes chase you away when she was over, it was always in good fun. Sure she was a dick to you but this?
This was so different.
It makes you choke up a bit, eyes widening at her words before you look at your brother, silently begging for him to defend you from the girls mean words.
But he doesn’t, he clears his throat, avoiding your eyes and grabbing his own phone to scroll through it so he wouldn’t have to be put into the awkward situation of getting between his sister and his best friend.
It makes you inhale deeply before you silently get up from the couch, slip past the two of them, and make your way back upstairs like Ellie told you to, your throat burning with hot tears as you tried your best to hide them from the pair on the couch.
Your brother finally looked up when you slipped passed the two of them, a soft sigh leaving his lips as he eyed Ellie. “I know she’s annoying but…that was kind of fucked up man” he mumbles out softly, his eyes lingering on Ellie for a moment only to watch her shrug, her eyes never leaving the screen.
“Shut up. She wouldn’t leave unless I was mean…” she mumbled out nonchalantly, which makes your brother sigh softly, turning his head back to the screen and starting another game.
You realized that this wasn’t a game. This was Ellie being awful to you for the sole fact that you were staying there and being a ‘cock block’, and in her book? That was more than enough of a reason to take her anger out on you.
It made you take one look at your bedroom when you finally got upstairs, tears in your eyes, when you realized that you had to get quite comfortable there, seeing as you’d be spending far more time locked up than you thought you would have.
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You managed to avoid Ellie and your brother for the remainder of the week, for real this time. You had no interest in being around them or spending any time with them, not since Ellie made it very clear that she wanted nothing to do with you, and you were the bane of her very existence.
You decided that they could spend their summer like they wanted to, without you there.
Any time you needed something from downstairs, you’d either go and get it extremely early in the morning or late enough at night so that they wouldn’t be there, which was hard sometimes since they’d spend almost the entire night downstairs, drinking beers and eating snacks until they were too tired to go in anymore.
Tonight was different though.
Because tonight was the first Saturday of the summer, which meant anyone and everyone was looking towards your brother and Ellie for a party to kick things off. You knew they’d do it of course, but you knew it was actually happening once you could hear the faint noise of the two of them setting up downstairs, paired with the roaring sound of your brothers Jeep pulling in and out of the driveway, making multiple runs to the store for last minutes things for the party.
And your plan for the night? You were going to shower early to avoid any awkward drunk run-ins, take a melatonin, lock your room door, and fall asleep with your noise canceling headphones underneath a mountain of blankets. While it would be nice to let loose and party for a night, you wouldn’t dare even ask them if you could attend, already knowing Ellie would have quite the mean words in store if you tried that.
On the bright side, this all meant you were responsible for the clean up in the morning.
You let out a soft sigh as you tugged on a pair of sleep shorts and an oversized t shirt, moving to grab your bottle of melatonin gummies before you moved to sit on the bed, wanting to wind down a bit before bed.
Right as you were about to take your vitamin and lock your door though, you heard a gentle knock, making you frown as you looked over at it. Surly the party hadn’t started yet? Did you seriously have to put a note on your door to alert drunk idiots that your room was off limits for hook ups?
You frowned before calling out. “Go away! There are other rooms!” You called out loud enough, hoping that whoever was on the other side would get the memo.
Instead, you hear the knob turn, the door creaking open as your brother peaks his head in, making you sigh in relief.
“Oh…I thought you were some idiot party-goer” you explain as you scrunch your nose at the mere thought of it before you unscrew the top to your bottle. “What are you doing here? You have a party to host” you explain before you look up at him, only to find his eyes wandering your bedroom before he shrugs.
“Wanted to check on you…make sure you’re okay” he explains before he finally looks down at you, nodding towards the bottle of melatonin in your hand. “Going to bed already?” He asks, which you nod to.
“Yup…trying to get a heard start before the noise sets in” you hum out softly before you bring one of the gummies to your lips.
Your brother quickly speaks up before you can take it. “You should come down…for a little bit. It’ll be fun” he quickly gets out before you eat it. He knew the moment you took it, you’d be lulled away to sleep, and there was no chance in him reconciling with you tonight.
Because in all honesty, he felt horrible for the way Ellie had been treating you. Not only did he fear you’d tell your parents (he knew you wouldn’t), but he also felt like he was being a shit big brother for not standing up for you, even if he knew that you knew it was a tricky situation since Ellie was his best friend.
Your shoulders slump at his words, giving your brother an unamused look.
“Your friend wouldn’t even let me play video games with you. Do you seriously think she’d allow me to come down tonight l?” You groan out softly before you shake your head, bringing the gummy to your lips once again. “I’m gonna go to bed. I don’t have time for either of you” you sigh softly.
Your eyes widen when your brother steps forward and slaps the gummy from your hand. “What the hell Derek??” You shriek out, which only makes him groan in annoyance.
“It’ll be fun! And Ellie will be too drunk or high or both to even notice you’re there…” he whines out like a child, which makes you roll your eyes.
A blanket of silence falls between the both of you as you think about it, weighing out the pros and the cons of going downstairs and joining everyone, risking the chance of Ellie blowing up on you the second she sees you there, assuming you’re attending for the sole purpose of shutting down her fun.
Derek sighs softly as he moves to sit down next to you on your bed. “I’ve been a shitty older brother…and you deserve to have fun this summer too” he hums out softly before he leans over, nudging your shoulder gently with his.
“Come on…it’ll be fun” he urges once more, and it reminds you of when you were both kids, your brother slowly turning into the person that you recognized rather than the person he was whenever he was around Ellie or his other friends.
You finally sigh out softly before looking over at him, giving him a slight nod. “I’ll change and come down once I hear the music start playing…I’m sure that gives her enough time to get her drunk goggles on” you hum out playfully as you refer to Ellie.
Your brother smiles brightly, his mimicking your own before he nods. “You’re gonna have fun” he affirms once more before he gets up to leave your bedroom, closing the door behind him so he could get downstairs and finish setting up.
A soft sigh leaves your lips as you look down at your clothes, frowning at the faded band t shirt paired with the frayed ends of your old sleep shorts.
You needed to change.
It wasn’t long until you could hear the faint sound of the loud music booming through the house, paired with the various cars that slowly started piling up in your driveway and along the side of the ride in front of your house, the party guests making their way to your place like clockwork.
You had changed into a pair of baggy blue jeans that hung low on your waist, and a simple white tank top hugged your curves in a way that looked like you put in way more effort that you actually did, wanting to keep things comfortable enough that you could slip out of it the second you wanted to dessert the place for the safe haven that was your bedroom.
The party was in fully swing by the time you made your way downstairs, a person filling up everyone single space as music blasted loudly throughout the entire place. You inhaled deeply, slipping past the growing sea of people to get to the kitchen, and get a drink.
Your eyes scanned the space as you stayed leaned up against the counter, red solo cup pressed against your lips as you babysat the mixture of liquid and soda, people watching as everyone around you became acquainted with one another, your drink making you grow warmer and warmer with each passing second.
Like a stroke of luck, you catch an empty spot on the once full couch. It makes you sigh in relief, once again slipping past the bodies in your house to catch it before someone else does, which you thankfully do. You plop down onto it, bringing your cup to your lips as you rest your head against the back of the couch.
You didn’t even realize how drunk you were until Jesse, one of your brother’s old friends plops down next to you with a loud sigh. The second he was next to you, the strong smell of weed was filling up your lungs, you swore you felt the tiniest bit high from the smell alone.
“If I so much as smell a blunt, your tv is gonna grow legs and start walking away” he groaned out, making you stifle a laugh.
The sound catches his attention, the man turning his head to look at you, his hazy expression slowly tugging into a smile.
“Nooo way. I remember you! You’re Derek’s little sister” he gasps out, which makes you hold back a laugh before you nod.
“I am in fact his sister” you confirm.
To be frankly honest, you’d known Jesse since high school. He was pretty close with Ellie and Derek, he was actually the only one out of the group of gremlins that was actually kind to you whenever they were all around. However he was currently so far gone, he could barely remember that you two already knew each other.
“Maaan I haven’t seen you in so long! He didn’t tell me you’d be here” he chuckles softly, bringing his hands to his face as he groans softly.
“I’m…I’m sorry I’m so high right now. I can barely think” he apologizes, the man visibly melting into the couch as he lets his hands fall down beside him, staring off into space.
You giggle softly as you shake your head, bringing your cup to your lips as you take another sip of your drink. “You’re fine Jesse…the companies nice” you nod before you rest your head back against the back of the couch, allowing Jesse to carry on with his belligerent complaints.
You were so consumed with Jesse’s rather entertaining word vomit, that you barely noticed a certain someone eyeing you from the other side of the couch.
Ellie had been there the entire time, too high and too drunk (like your brother said she’d be) to even notice you had taken a spot at the end of the couch. It also didn’t help that she had her current summer fling splayed across her lap, her lips pressed to the girls mouth as they practically swallowed each other’s faces whole.
And she wouldn’t have noticed you either, had it not been for the familiar sound of your giggle ringing through her ear, barely audible over the sound of the loud music booming through the house.
At first she thought she was hearing things, ignoring the noise and carrying on with working her tongue against the girl’s against her. However the second time she heard it, it was paired with a low groan that she could only recognize as Jesse’s, and once she heard that? She had no choice but to break her lips away from the girls, instead allowing her to work her lips against her neck.
The image of your head resting against the back of the couch, looking up at Jesse as his face seemingly lays inches away from yours, your eyes twinkling in the dim light of the room, the edge of your solo cup resting against your pouty bottom lip as you listen intently at whatever Jesse is saying…
Makes Ellie want to punch a fucking hole in the wall.
Because what the fuck is Jesse doing talking to Derek’s little sister? Why the fuck does he think it’s okay to make you laugh that way when everyone knows you’re off limits? The unspoken rule being something everyone had to follow…
No matter how pretty you got as you grew up.
Ellie suddenly can’t pay any attention to the pretty girl on her lap, her grip on the girls hips tightening with anger as she watches you smile lazily at Jesse, the drink in your cup clearly making you far too soft and pliable to be talking to someone like Jesse.
There’s suddenly a fire burning in her, one that begs for you to look up and see what she’s doing, see that she has a girl on her lap that isn’t you. She wants you to see her kissing the girl, gripping her hips and positioning her however she pleases.
Ellie feels the need to make you jealous
But you never do. Ellie watches the both of you for what feels like an eternity, and you don’t once look up and lock eyes for her, not even for a second. She’s sure you’re obvious to the fact that she’s even there, far too consumed with whatever the fuck it was that Jesse was telling you, which couldn’t be anything good of course, it was Jesse of all people.
The girl on her lap is getting antsy, tugging at the bottom of Ellie’s shirt, slipping her hand underneath it to run along the skin of her hips, lips itching up her skin to get back to Ellie’s mouth, anything to have the attention that has suddenly been locked into something else.
Ellie doesn’t budge of course, her stone cold gaze stuck on you across the chair, a few feet away from her as Jesse chats you up,
She doesn’t even know why she’s staring. She can’t pin point why seeing you do something as simple as talk to someone else makes her blood boil to the point where she feels fucking light headed. All she knows is that she can’t take her eyes off of you, not when your attention is so dead set on someone else.
The girl on Ellie’s neck whines softly, her hand coming up to grip Ellie’s chin, pulling her down to finally lock lips with her. It makes Ellie groan, and to the girl it probably sounded like a groan of approval, a sign that Ellie liked that she was taking what she wanted from her. In reality, it was Ellie being fucking annoyed.
Ellie kisses her hard, trying her best to shut her up and keep her satisfied so she can break away and keep an eye on you.
You sigh softly, lifting your head a bit to turn and look down into your cup, noticing it had become empty in the span of talking to Jesse. While doing that, you realized how drunk you had gotten from the drink you made, a lazy giggle leaving your lips as you shook your head towards Jesse.
“I’m…way too drunk…I need to go to bed” you sigh out, resting your hand Jesse’s thigh as you give him a gentle pat. “Try to sober up before you go home if you do end up leaving….was nice seeing you Jesse” you smile at him, only receiving a soft groan of agony before he lazily waved you off, making you giggle softly before you got up off the couch, stumbling a bit before making your way around it to go upstairs.
As you round the corner, oblivious to Ellie’s presence, you don’t at all notice the way her eyes trail your path even as her lips work angrily against the girl in her lap.
Or the way she breaks the kiss once you’re out of view, pushing the girl off her lap as her legs begin carrying her up to follow you. “I’ll be right back…” she mumbles out to the girl, completely ignoring the way she scoffs once she realizes Ellie was following another girl.
She slips past the crowd of people as she trails close behind you, watching as you fail to even realize the way certain eyes follow your path, eyes that don’t belong to her, eyes that have filthy thoughts behind them, only fueling her anger further.
It’s like a shark stalking their prey. You’re a dumb, innocent little fish with not a care in the world, happily swimming around other little seat creatures as an apex predator slowly sticks onto your tail, following you to your demise. You’re bouncing around, giggling softly as you stumble over your own feet, so stupid from the liquor you had, you’d barely even noticed Ellie was following you.
Soon, you’re up the stairs and in front of your bedroom door. You reached up, standing on your toes to get to the little key you left on the top of your door after you locked it before going downstairs, ensuring no one would so much as think to use your bed as a hook up station.
You opened it up, sighing softly as you closed it behind you, moving over to your drawer to grab the pajamas you had folded earlier, wanting nothing more to change into them and get some much needed sleep now that the alcohol had settled in and warmed up your entire system.
Ellie hears you humming softly to yourself as she opens up your door. She isn’t even entirely sure what her motive is with this, why she felt the need to follow you all the way up to your room, and to on top of that walk in. It wasn’t like you were in any sort of danger, you weren’t out on the street late at night all alone, or even at a party at a strangers house. You were a smart girl, even going as far as to lock your door before and after leaving to go downstairs.
Not smart enough to lock it before Ellie could come in though.
You frown softly when you hear your door open, fully prepared to start screaming for your brother the second some creep tried to come in to your room.
You don’t have to though, because the second you realize that it’s Ellie standing at your door and not some fucking weirdo, you let out a small sigh of relief.
Which quickly turns into panic once you realize that it’s Ellie standing in your doorway.
“Ellie? What are you doing here?” You question the girl, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you let out a soft sigh.
You can hear it already, the way Ellie is gearing up to degrade and berate you for even thinking it was okay to come out of your room and down to the party. You mentally prepare yourself for the nasty things she’ll say, for the way she’ll go above and beyond to ensure you never even think to come down and attend another one of hers and your brothers parties ever again.
But she doesn’t speak, not immediately at least.
You watch as she crosses her arms over her chest, tattooed forearms making her look all the more intimidating. Her eyes roam your bedroom as she slowly steps in to take in more of the space after she closes your door behind her.
“It’s nice in here…you should’ve stayed put…would have worked out better for you” she hums out, her tone a bit too casual for the bite that her words manage to get out of you.
It makes you sigh softly, bringing your hand up to rub against your forehead before you speak up. “It was Derek’s idea, okay? And I was barely even down there. I didn’t even talk to anyone” you explain to the girl.
She raises her eyebrows, green eyes settling on you as she watches you in surprise.
“Didn’t talk to anyone hm? Then what the fuck were you doing with Jesse? Huh?” She barks out, the level of her voice making you flinch.
If you were confused before, this has you in shambles. Your frown deepens as your eyebrows furrow, watching the girl before you quickly speak up to defend yourself.
“With Jesse? Ellie I…we talked for maybe thirty minutes? And all he was telling me was how much he was greening out I…are you serious right now??” You shriek out, watching as the girl slowly made her way towards you.
She ignores your explanation. “Do you know how fucking desperate you look? Clinging on to mine and Derek’s friends?” She spits out, her tone growing angrier and more vile with each word she utters.
And she’s getting closer to you the more she speaks too.
“It’s fuckin’ pathetic. You’re fucking pathetic. Don’t you get tired of this? Isn’t this boring to you?” She questions, tone dripping with annoyance and anger as she keeps going, keeps pushing you.
You don’t think you’ve ever seen her like this. She’s fuming with something you don’t recognize and it makes your eyes widen, lips parting slightly as you try to find the words to say before they quickly close once she continues on with her nasty words.
That’s wide eyed look on your face lights a fire under Ellie that tells her to keep going.
She’s right in front of you now, her nose inches away from yours as she lets out an unamused chuckle, a soft smirk on her face.
“You’re such a fucking slut…you know that? Begging for attention from your brother’s friends….” She hums out softly, her pink tongue slipping out of her mouth to wet her lips slowly. You can barely stop yourself from your eyes shifting down to watch the way she does it, only earning a soft chuckle from the girl.
“Did you go to him because you saw I was busy baby? Is that it?” Her tone is still taunting you, but it’s softer, her voice barely above a whisper.
Suddenly you feel her strong hands snake their way around your waist, pulling you slowly but harshly against her body, making you gasp softly at the sudden and foreign feeling of her body pressed against yours, all of it consuming you too much to even register what it was she was accusing you of.
Her eyes are taking in your features. Your eyes, your nose, your lips, as if she were silently begging you for something you couldn’t completely give her, something more.
“If you wanted me, all you had to do was ask” she sighs out softly.
And it’s like you aren’t even there anymore, because once she says that, her lips are pressed against yours in a hot, needy kiss.
Your eyes widened at the feeling of her lips on yours. For a minute you even questioned if you were dreaming, because surly there was no world where this would be happening, one in which Ellie would be kissing you.
You gasped out softly, trying to break away from the girl to ask what exactly it was that she was doing, but she only takes this as an advantage to slip her tongue into your mouth.
The feeling of her wet tongue against yours has you melting, your eyes fluttering shut as suddenly any and all questions and concerns you previously had disappear from your head, the only thought present being how good it felt to have Ellie kissing you.
You finally get a moment to speak when you feel Ellie break the kiss so that her lips could trail down your throat, licking and sucking your skin as her hands grip your hips tightly, fingers rubbing against the exposed skin between the hem of your shirt and the top of your jeans.
“Ellie…what are you…” you manage to get out between moans, enjoying the feeling of the means girls lips against your throat far too much.
“Shut up…just shut the fuck up…” her words are muffled against your skin.
You can feel her walking you back towards your bed, allowing her to push you back onto it and crawl over your body once you’re both there. That’s when her lips attach themselves back onto yours, her hand coming down to skillfully unbutton your jeans, which gives her a chance to cup your pussy, feeling your arousal soaked panties.
She smirks against your lips, the pads of her fingers pressing against your clothed clit as she gives you a hum of approval.
“Wet already? Over one little kiss? God that’s pathetic…” she chuckles out softly as she degrades you for it, which somehow only sends more warmth shooting down your core.
“It’s alright baby…I’ll take care of you..” she hums softly against your lips before she starts kissing down your body.
Her lips swirl your nipples over the fabric of your tank top, the material growing wet with her saliva. It’s strange because the feeling is almost more erotic than if she were to do it with your top off. Maybe it’s how eager she is for it? For whatever it was she was planning on doing to you?
You had no idea. But you knew it felt good.
She does this until she’s settled between your legs, your denim jeans already long gone, her eyes zeroed in on the growing damp spot on your panties. You’re propped up on your elbows, watching closely as the girl who you were convinced hated you, stares down at your pussy like it’s her last fucking meal.
“You’re soaked baby…fuck…” she sighs out, her tattooed hand coming up to slowly run her index and middle fingers along your slit, the feeling alone making you gasp out before moaning for her.
That makes Ellie smirk, her stormy green eyes flickering up to catch your expressions as her fingers circle your clit slowly. “Yeah? You like that don’t you pretty girl…you want more?” She questions, her voice so soft and sweet, yet dripping with the urge to tease and humiliate you.
It was so confusing, because you didn’t know what it was that you wanted. You’d grown to view Ellie as someone who disliked you, deeply in fact. You always saw her as a figure of hate and annoyance towards you rather than someone who could ever in their wildest dreams be in this current situation with you.
But it felt so good, it felt so fucking right to have her settled between your legs, her fingers circling your clit slowly, making your head spin, making you feel so dizzy you felt like you’d cry if your aching pussy didn’t have some form of attention from her.
“Answer me…” she practically growls out when you take too long to respond, her dark eyes growing even darker as she awaits your confirmation.
Her tone along breaks you out of your thoughts, and before you can even think all of this through, consider the consequences that will follow a drunk hook up with Ellie?…
You’re nodding like a fucking bobble head.
“Want it so bad Ellie…please….please touch me” you practically beg, hips bucking for the attention you craved.
You didn’t even for a second stop to think what her motives were. Ellie was mean, and she could be really fucking mean when she wanted to. Who’s to say this wasn’t all a sick joke? One that she’d laugh at hysterically just to get you to say you wanted her, weaponizing the way you begged for her in any instance she could use to keep you in line.
“Good girl…relax baby…I’ll make you feel real good..” she hums out, her gentle words tugging you away from your intrusive thoughts.
Her fingers tug your panties to the side, an audible groan rumbling from her chest as she finally gets a glimpse as your soaked core.
“Fuckin’ look at that…pussy’s practically drooling for me baby…Jesus” she sighs out softly.
For a moment, you think she’s going to leave. Because in the dim light of your bedroom, you watch as she pushes her fingers into her mouth. You watch her with a confused frown as you hear a small click, paired with a gentle buzzing sound.
But once Ellie finally latches her mouth to your pussy, you can feel the foreign feeling of a tiny ball in the middle of her tongue vibrating against your clit.
You don’t even have time to fully register what the actual fuck is going on, a loud gasp leaving your mouth as your eyes go wide for a moment before they flutter shut.
Ellie had a vibrating fucking tongue ring
The feeling has you moaning loudly, your head falling back as your back arches, feeding more of your throbbing cunt into Ellie’s mouth, which only makes her moan loudly against your sensitive core.
“Fuck! Ellie oh my god! Feels…h-huh….feels s’good” you gasp out, words broken up with huffs and moans as you struggle to speak.
You want to kick yourself for not noticing it moment ago when she had her tongue playing against yours, the feeling of the smooth ball lapping against the inside of your mouth, only to begging vibrating once she settled her mouth on your pussy.
She’s just as fucked out as you are when you finally look down at her, her eyes fluttered shut in what could only be viewed as pure bliss as she licks and sucks your pussy like a woman starved. The image alone makes you reach out and tug a fistful of her hair into your hand, keeping her close as your hips began grinding against her face.
“Yeah..right…f-fuck…right there Ellie!” You moan out as her hands come up to hold onto your hips, guiding you, urging you to move harder and faster against her mouth.
Begging you to use her.
Your eyes flutter shut as the familiar feeling begins to settle into your lower half, your legs growing numb, hips getting sore as you chase the high that was growing deliciously close every second Ellie worked her skilled tongue on your pussy.
You aren’t sure you’ve ever felt anything like it. Between Ellie’s fantastic performance with her tongue, and the vibrating tongue ring, your head begins spinning as your orgasm grows closer in an embarrassingly quick amount of time.
“Ellie I…I can’t…you’re gonna…make me…” you warn her, your eyebrows furrowed as you stare down at the girl, only to see her giving you an encouraging nod as she suckles your pussy, making sure the little ball on her tongue is working your clit in the most perfect way so that the vibrations can drive you where you need to go.
That alone has you crying out, back arching almost painfully as you cum hard on the girls tongue.
Sensitivity chases soon after, a soft whine leaving your lips as the girl laps up your arousal, tongue ring still buzzing against your tired cunt, making you shy away from the warmth of her mouth.
She chuckles at that, giving your clit one final kiss before she pulls away and reaches into her mouth to click the tiny machine off.
“Did so good for me baby…took everything that I gave you” she praises you as she crawls up your body, humming softly as her hand comes up to gently hold your face before she kisses you, letting you taste your arousal that lingers on her tongue.
You moan softly into your mouth, head still swirling with a million questions you had for her, all of which she silences with the slow and sensual lapping of her tongue against yours.
She does this as she pushes you back onto your bed, letting you rest against your pillows before she tugs your blanket over both your bodies, her tongue lazily playing with yours as she practically lulls you to sleep with her kisses.
Or so you thought.
Because soon enough, she’s breaking the kiss, crawling off of your body as she tugs the blankets off of hers. You frown as you sit up a bit, watching as she adjusts her hair and her clothes in your mirror, crouching down a bit before she turns to leave your room without another word.
“I…you’re leaving?” You question softly, confusion and exhaustion laced within your words.
Ellie snorts once she turns around, the back of her hand coming up to wipe away anymore of your juices that might have still lingered on her lips.
“You thought I was gonna stay with you? Seriously?” She chuckles out softly before she slowly makes her way back to you, leaning down as she gives you a teasing pout.
“Maybe next time princess…I have someone waiting for me downstairs” she winks at you before she swiftly leaves your bedroom, leaving you there with a shocked look settled on your face.
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taeyongdoyoung · 5 months ago
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chase and attract
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summary: your best friend decides to fulfil yet another one of your freaky shared fantasies... pairing: chan x reader genre: smut, best friends to ??? warnings: cnc/primal play, chasing in a forest, public indecency but there are no witnesses, fingering, finger-sucking, doggystyle, unprotected sex, praise, degradation, reader wants to use the safeword but doesn't, reader experiences subdrop, insecurities, crying, aftercare, pet names, the word daddy is mentioned but after they're done having sex, discussion of future scenario 👀 author's note: hello hello, this is the second part of my wolf & bunny series, i think i'll write one more to tie up the loose ends 🤍 part one & part three word count: 1.7k
After a number of discussions and precautions, you and Chan are finally ready to embark on your next sexscapade. He's reassured you multiple times that he knows the forest well enough that you won't get lost and as a safety measure, he brought a compass and his phone. You purposefully leave yours in his car to further heighten the feeling of danger you two had in mind.
“Are you ready?” Chan asks you gently.
“Kinda. I'm really nervous, Chris,” you confess, your hands shaking in your lap as you are still sitting in the passenger seat.
“Remember that you can stop this at any moment, right?” he reminds you sweetly.
“I know that,” you sigh. “But I want this, I really do.”
“Okay, then, there's nothing to be nervous about. You know I'll keep you safe. Always, yeah?”
You nod, trusting him completely, despite how insane this whole thing might sound to a stranger. You are fully aware that Chan has your best interest at heart.
“I'll give you a five-minute headstart this time,” he sets the timer on his phone. “Ready, set...go!”
You dash out of his car faster than ever and speed through the forest. You've got this. Last time your stupid legs gave out due to being in a box for too long but now you've trained for this moment for a week and you feel confident enough that you'll have a blast. Sure, you know that the point of this game is for Chan to eventually catch you. And boy, do you look forward to that moment. But the more you run, the more your heart will jump out, the more thrilled you feel.
You begin to lose track of time as you go deeper and deeper into the forest. Have five minutes already passed? You don't hear Chan's footsteps so either he hasn't started chasing you yet or he's going in another direction. Whatever the explanation, you keep running even though you're beginning to lose your breath. How much longer? You still don't hear him and you are in desperate need of a break. You should have brought a bottle of water. But carrying something like that would only slow you down. You're thinking too much again. You just want him to catch you already and fuck you until you can no longer think. Truly the best feeling in the world.
Finally, you hear leaves rustling. You don't hear his voice but you know he's getting near. Shit, what if it's someone else? No, that can't be it. Chan made sure that people rarely walk this path and it would only be the two of you. Still, you're terrified at the thought of someone other than Chan catching you. The mere suggestion of that is enough to send speed to your muscles and make you faster.
But all good things must come to an end (or maybe the good things are just about to begin...) and you are engulfed by a pair of strong arms. Before you can react or try to fight your attacker off, he's pressing his hand against your mouth.
“Shhh, don't scream,” Chan's voice is both a comfort and a threat, sending mixed signals to your core.
“Mmpf,” you struggle to make some kind of noise but it comes out muffled against his rough hand.
“This will all be easier if you don’t fight it,” Chan says soothingly and you shake your head in disagreement.
He momentarily removes his hand from your lip.
“Please, somebody help me!” you scream loud enough to paint the scene more vividly but not loud enough to actually attract attention in case a stranger passes by some forest. Which honestly seems impossible at this point. Chan really picked a very secluded trail.
“No one’s gonna hear you, sweetheart. And even if they did, do you think they’d help you? Silly little bun, you brought this on yourself walking in the forest all alone, wearing this dress…”
Fuck, why is he so good at this? You try not to wonder if he’s had prior experience with such a scenario or he simply just has great imagination to come up with such lines.
“Please, don’t do this,” you pretend to be afraid as your best friend pushes you on your knees and situates himself behind you. “I won’t tell anyone.”
“Why not? I’ll fuck you so good you’ll want to brag about it,” Chan chuckles coldly and sticks his thick fingers inside your pussy unexpectedly.
“Nnghh,” you cry out and are beginning to lose energy of all the running and no longer feel like faking it, letting out moans and whimpers of pleasure.
“See? You’re all wet for me, so obviously you’re enjoying it,” Chan gathers the evidence of your satisfaction with his fingers and pushes them into your mouth.
You don’t need an order to know what to do as you lick them clean of your arousal.
“Fuuuck, good girl,” Chan praises you and briefly breaks character, stroking your hair gently.
Oh, shit. You think you’re falling for your best friend. But such thoughts will only bring complications, especially in the current context, so you push them down as much as you can.
Chan makes sure you’re wet enough by mercilessly stroking your pussy and finally, fuck, sweet finally, enters you from behind with his cock.
“N-no, d-don’t do this,” you scream and try to escape his strong grasp but of course, it’s no use.
“Such a useless slut, only good for fucking and nothing more.”
The degrading words sting but you’re trying not to dwell on it too much.
“So fucking wet for a stranger. Disgusting,” he says.
Fuck, this hurts. Not the cock stretching you out to the fullest but what he’s saying. Is it really true?
You want to say the safeword. But you also don’t. By the time you make up your mind, Chan has already painted your walls white and you are also coming with a shudder, loudly and devastatingly.
You feel broken. Bad broken. You want to go home and cry and sleep and eat ice cream. What went wrong? You were having such a great time. So why are you suddenly having such dark thoughts? And not dark in the sexy way…
Chan picks you up gently and checks up on you.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m okay, I just want to go home,” you respond briefly.
He nods, quietly wondering if he did something wrong or if he’s just imagining the sad, empty look in your pretty eyes.
Chan helps you walk back to his car and makes sure you drink water and cleans you up to the best of his abilities with some tissues he prepared in advance.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks again as he parks the car in front of you place. “You haven’t said a word during the whole ride. Usually you have funny stories to share and…”
“Gee, sorry for not always being the class clown, I guess,” you snap at him angrily with an eyeroll.
“Okay, don’t give me that attitude,” Chan scolds you gently but firmly. “If we want to do this healthily, you gotta communicate with me. If I did something wrong or if you felt uncomfortable at any point.”
You shake your head, still in denial.
“If you don’t wanna talk, I won’t force you. But you gotta remember that you mean the world to me, yeah? Even if these games end, I need to have my best friend in my life, am I clear?”
You blink and finally gather the courage to look at him.
“I’m sorry, Chris,” you admit and burst into tears.
He pulls you into a hug and pats your back.
“You have nothing to be sorry about.”
“Well, the truth is I wasn’t all that into it when you said that thing about me being useless, only good for fucking and disgusting,” you confess.
“Oh, babygirl, you know I don’t mean these things. I only said them ‘cause you mentioned you’re into degradation.”
“I was, I mean, I am, but for some reason, it really hurt me this time, sorry. I should have said. I just don’t want you to think poorly of me.”
“Alright, first of all, stop saying sorry, it’s completely normal to get caught up in it and feel insecure sometimes. As a dom, I should have been more careful and checked up on you more frequently. And second of all, please, remember that you are very smart, sweet, funny and not to mention incredibly beautiful so there is no way in hell I think lowly of you. Now, did you put that down in your pretty brain of yours?”
“Yes, sir,” you answer enthusiastically and your tears have dried up, instead a bright smile appears on your face. “Thanks for saying that. I guess I really needed to hear it.”
“You don’t have to thank me. Just next time if you happen feel like that, say the safeword and talk to me. About anything, I mean it.”
“You too, Chris. I know that’s particularly hard for you to open up but whatever you tell me, I would never judge you.”
“I know, babygirl,” Chan chuckles softly and does something that further confuses the already blurred lines of your friendship. He kisses you on the lips, deeply and sweetly. Not like how you kiss your best friend but how you kiss a lover.
“Do you want…to come inside?” you offer, not knowing what exactly, considering you just ended a very overwhelming scene.
Actually, you know what you want. You want him to hold you, to watch a dumb movie and eat popcorn together. You want…more than you can have.
“I gotta get some work done,” Chan says with a wince. “I’m really behind on stuff.”
“Is it…my fault?”
“No way. I just can’t stop thinking of…our games even when I’m supposed to be working,” he admits.
Phew. You’re glad he didn’t say he can’t stop thinking of you. If he had, you wouldn’t be able to let him go to work.
“Right. Same here,” you reply dumbly.
“If you need anything and I mean, anything, just give me a call or a text. I’ll keep my phone nearby.”
“You really shouldn’t, I’ll keep annoying you,” you mumble self-consciously.
Chan grips your hand and squeezes it comfortingly.
“You could never annoy me, okay?”
“Okay, daddy,” you say it playfully, eliciting a giggle out of his beautiful mouth.
“Do you have any particular wishes for…you know, next time?”
“I do, but it’s kinda mild compared to what we’ve done already,” you shrug. “Dunno if you’d be into it.”
“Name it and it’s yours,” Chan assures you.
“How do you feel about…fucking me while I’m asleep?”
To be continued…
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orchid3a · 2 years ago
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11:16AM | HAITANI RINDOU
Summary: Rindou knows he loves you, he just has a hard time saying it. In his case, actions speak louder than words. Likes and reblogs appreciated! Link to my masterlist here!
cw: afab!reader, mild descriptions of violence and injury, mild suggestive content, mild sexual content, lots of kissing, marking, use of pet names (pretty thing,princess) Rin and reader being down bad.
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Rindou thinks he knows the exact moment he fell for you. It’s not special, nothing explosive and there are no fireworks bursting with colour in his chest like he’s been made to believe. It’s nothing like he thought it would feel in fact. It felt a little like falling, like weightlessness creeping into his bones, jelly-like. Inevitable.
You’re talking animatedly and his head is inclining in your direction as he listens, one hand propping up his chin and the other resting on his knee. Clenching and unclenching, tightly wound with sparks whenever it accidentally brushes your leg under the table. 
You lean forward to tuck the hair kissing his cheeks behind his ear and Rindou freezes. You move on and rock on your chair, as if you haven’t made his heart punch against the flesh of his chest.
He glances both ways instinctively looking for Ran, and his stupid smirk that seems to creep over his shoulder whenever something even vaguely embarrassing happens. But there is no Ran, there is no rumbling chuckle just around the corner, no teasing. Just you and him. He watches your eyes flick to him every few seconds, then drift to the distance as you mull over your thoughts and Rindou can only swallow against the lump now growing in his throat, a pathetic and even futile attempt to calm the blood pulsing in his veins.
‘Rin? You alright?’ Your eyebrows furrow and your hand instinctively moves again to tuck the stray strand of silky hair behind his ear and Rindou thinks you must be denser than he is if you can’t sense the hairs on his arms standing on end or his cheeks flush under the weight of your stare.
‘Hm? Yeah, fine.’ Futile once again. He coughs into his hand, hoping it doesn’t betray the slight waver in his voice. ‘What were you saying?’ He realizes at that moment, how painful it is to be around you, the dissonance between wanting to touch you and then not, the confusion of those feelings, a mass churning in his head. 
Of course he looks down periodically, and his hair slips from behind his ear and your hand moves on instinct to tuck it back, your fingers lingering near his neck and Rindou feels sick with how much he wants to feel them on his skin and kiss the inside of your wrist. 
Perhaps in hindsight, the exact moment he falls for you is somewhere before all this. Perhaps it’s the moment he first stumbles through your door, wincing and clutching his side as his hand catches the doorframe, his shirt torn open to reveal a red and angry pulsing gash licking at his skin, his toned abs flexing under the strain of pulling himself onto your sofa. Your hands are tender, soft, hesitant even as you bunch the cotton in your fingers, squeezing the excess water out as you dab at the split in his lip. 
You tut under your breath, an eyebrow raised, as you are prone to do he knows, when you are pretending to be exacerbated and admonish him for being so careless. He wonders how your eyes can be so kind and gentle when your voice is so stern and he’s bleeding out on your sofa, wonders at how you haven’t cried or screamed or shook when the blood seeps between the gap in your fingers. 
Your smile is reassuring and you kiss at the apple of his cheeks as his eyes flutter with fatigue, whispering your assurances as he bites down hard on his lip, suppressing the pain he pretends not to feel, as you know he is prone to do.
‘You’re an idiot,’ you say and press the gauze to the skin that reveals pinkened torn flesh and he groans, throwing his head back as his fists tighten on the corner of your hoodie. His hoodie in actuality. Despite this, your thumb traces a line down the fine hairs on his stomach, the black whorls that sneak below the waistband of his trousers and his breath hitches as your eyes flick to meet his. You think of slipping your hand beneath, your thighs splayed out on his as you whisper against his mouth, rocking slightly against his hips till his breath is hot on your skin and you’re all but swallowing his moans. 
But you don’t. Instead, you chastise him and stand, taking the bloodied wads of cotton to the bins and leaving him to sleep with an old blanket that smells of you. It’s fear that’s eating you up, a cavity gnawing tightly on your stomach. Fear, shame, anxiety, a word that curls in your head as you toss and turn at night in your own bed, separated by a single wall from him. 
Rindou holds your blanket to his mouth, his nose and he wonders at all the lost possibilities he’s carelessly thrown away as the dawn gives way to a morning of buttery sunlight, and you both think of each other as you sleep. 
Perhaps in retrospect, the moment he falls for you  isn’t that either. Perhaps it’s the day his call first goes to voicemail and he finds he’s pouting as he listens to the automated message. And the barrage of calls only grows, his anxiety seemingly heavier with it till he’s all but racing to your apartment with his gun firmly in his hand. He can’t keep the urgency from his voice when he tells Ran as he thunders from the building, his words clipped, the sweat on the back of neck making a steady trail between his shoulder blades.
‘Rin, it’s probably nothing,’ Ran says as his Brother pushes past him, slamming the car door and driving off as the exhaust fumes curl in the air.
‘Y/N always answers my calls,’ he tells himself, a pathetic attempt to quell the thunderous beat of his heart against his ribs. 
But when he arrives, slamming the door open with your name on his lips, music drifting from the open kitchen door, his anxiety is quelled like water to a fire. Because there you are, your back to him, a sundress flaring around your waist, golden sunlight falling over the lip of the window. And humming, a low sound undulating the soft chords thrumming through the speakers.
‘Y/N?’ A whisper, all he can manage as the gun finds its way back into the waistband of his pants. 
You turn swiftly on your heel,dropping the spatula that’s halfway to your mouth and Rindou catches the faint dusting of white icing sugar smeared on your cheeks. He takes a step. Two. Three. His arms instinctively come around you, and he smells strawberries on your skin, your hair, on the smidge of cake mixture on your lip that you dart your tongue out to lick up.
‘Rin?’ you say, the spatula clattering to the floor, your arms coming to rest against the flat of his back, your breath hot and sweet on his neck.
‘Why didn’t you answer my calls?’ His voice is muffled by your hair, the crease of your neck, his breath from where it’s been caught in his throat.
You furrow your brows against his shoulder, your hand coming up to rub loose circles against the base of his spine. ‘Oh, I didn’t know, I wanted to make something to surprise you.’ The other hand gestures towards the array of spoons and bowls littering the countertop.
Ran asks him later that day, whether he likes you as more than a friend and Rindou only shrinks into his seat, scowling and pouting as he turns the question over in his head, a muted ‘Yes’ sitting on the flat of his tongue. Ran knows obviously, it’s as clear as night and day what his brother feels, the way his eyes follow you as you move, the faint smattering of pink half hidden beneath the shadow of his hair, the smile he thinks is reserved enough not to be noticed. 
‘He likes you Y/N.’ Ran says as throws his keys onto the coffee table, flicking on the lights as he fishes around in his sparse fridge for leftovers, tutting under his breath at the bareness of its shelves.It’s a regular pastime this is. You call Ran to talk about Rindou, to gush like a schoolgirl kicking her legs in the air, and Ran listens, as he always does, to the floaty voice on the other end, interspersed by sniffles.
‘He does not.’ You curl around your pillow, missing the warmth of him, your phone pressed between your ear and the pillow under your head. ‘He’s just being nice.’
A sniffle drips down the line as you press the duvet corner to your eyes. 
‘Trust me he does, Rindou doesn’t do “just being nice”.’ There is a beep as the microwave is switched on, thinly veiled behind the slosh of liquid and the shuffle of fabric as Ran pulls his jacket off. ‘All he ever talks about is you. I should be mad you’re taking so much of my baby brother’s attention from me.’ This last part said with mirth and the trace of a fond smile.
It’s a pleasant daydream to turn this way and that in your mind as you  drift to sleep, even if you don’t quite believe it. 
In your dreams, those private chambers locked and bolted, things are perfect. You find that belonging to him is easier than you thought it would be. He is soft underneath those harsh edges, you can trace your thumb over the outline of him.  Honest and quiet and safe and you could spend hours lost in that infinitesimal space between day and night, that thin splice of half-reality where everything is as you want it to be. 
Little do you know of course, that on the other side of the city, beneath a moon that’s milky white, proud and big in the sky, Rindou turns over a dream of his own. One in which he slots his lips against yours, swallows the breath that’s hitched in your throat as his hands come up to rest against your hips. Perhaps, if his dream self is feeling brave, he’ll pull you against him and you’ll feel the force of his want through his slacks and his lips will dip to sink against the curve of your shoulder. He thinks your eyes are beautiful as it is but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to watch them flutter shut as you came undone beneath him.
Maybe the day he realizes he has fallen for you, irrevocably, hopelessly even, is the day he watches Sanzu tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as he bends to titter against it, a lame joke that trails off into a chuckle, one arm supporting his weight against the wall and the other languidly tracing a curve along your cheek. 
‘You’re such a pretty thing aren’t you? Lovely thing like you could get eaten right up in a place like this.’ His lips are tantalisingly close, and he smells vaguely of woodsmoke, gunpowder and metal. 
You smile placatingly, shivering slightly under Haruchiyo’s intense gaze, and Rindou turns, the familiar lick of embarrassment, shame, green and turbulent jealousy running down his back. 
Ran raises an eyebrow at the way Rindou bunches his hands into taut fists. ‘You need to tell her,’ he says. ‘If you don’t, someone else will.’ A subtle incline of his head in Haruchiyo’s direction. It’s his job, he knows, to tell Rindou the things he perhaps doesn’t want to hear but needs to nonetheless. 
Maybe that’s what spurs him on in retrospect. The thought that one day he might be too late, that one day he’ll wake up to see you looking at someone the way you look at him and he might lose you indefinitely.
So here he sits again, his head resting against the edge of the sofa, his hands curling into fists around your hoodie as you kneel between his thighs to press a clean gauze to the slice in his abdomen, hissing through his teeth, lips clamped together to staunch the sharp tang of pain lancing through his body. This is it, he thinks, as he watches your brows knit together, your cheeks puff with concentration, the barely perceptible shake of your head as you click your tongue.
‘Y/N…’ And it’s so quiet, a feather-touch against skin, the brush of hair tickling an ear. 
‘Hm?’ You inspect the wound, turn your head this way and that, oblivious even now to Rindou’s heated stare, his lidded gaze dropping along your cheek, your neck, the collarbones you tease through the neckline of your hoodie.
‘Look at me.’ His voice curls along your skin, flames licking at the nape of your neck as your eyes flit to meet his.
There’s a beat.
Two. 
Three.
And then he is kissing you, fervently, feverishly, his lips warm, salty with the tang of blood from the gash along the bottom, and his tongue is gentle and tentative in your mouth, his hands cupping your face as he pulls you onto his lap. It’s fast, clumsy even, awkward, all teeth and heat and need and promise. You break for air for the smallest fraction of a second, the thin string of saliva breaking as it falls down your chin, before his lips slot against yours, perfectly, synchronically, his nose brushing yours as his hands drop to your hips to glide you against his thigh. 
‘Rin,’ you say against his mouth, his throat pulsing in time with your heaving breaths and he pulls you against him so he can swallow the sigh that drips past parted lips when you feel his slacks tighten underneath you.
‘Y/N.’ He says your name like a prayer, like he worships you. Reverently, timid, testing it out in his mouth, his tongue relishing the taste of it. 'Princess.' And it feels right, it feels good.
He realizes as he kisses you, tastes you, that this is perhaps the moment he falls for you. Hopelessly, irrevocably even. You taste of warmth and tenderness, and nights spent near the heat, springtime. And he tastes of promise and hunger and thirst and you think if you hadn’t kissed him now, you’d have gone sick with the want. It’s dizzying, the pulsing in your veins that has your blood roaring in your ears, the shift of his lilac eyes as he slides the hoodie from you, dropping it in a pool of fabric, and your hands shake as you fumble to undo the belt buckle on his slacks, to drag the shirt from his shoulders and run your tongue along his chest. He groans, his lips sucking a firm and harsh mark between the curve of your neck and your shoulder and you wonder if you have ever heard a sweeter sound, you guarantee that you have not.
Because you are in love. Hopelessly, irrevocably even.
a/n: heyyy! I'm back with a full length fic! This was one of my favourites to write,it felt so self indulgent lol. It's actually a present for my Rin (happy one year loml) but I hope you all like it anyway. I'd love your feedback as usual. I have in fact opened a ko-fi which is here, and I'd appreciate any donation or anything if you liked this <3 but still, thanks for supporting me all this time too.
taglist: @reiners-milkbiddies @mxnjiros @islascafe @swqllen @prettyiolanthe @sugusshi @wotakuhime @snakegentleman @severellamahottub @haitaniapologist @lonnie19 @nafarsiti @bejeweled-night-33 @oikawascutie @the-travelling-witch @orchid3a @rottingreveries @qiiuusoup @hoetani @sinfulseashell @welcome-to-the-internet-it-sucks @obitohno @tetsutits @burnishedcrown @sweet-seishu @saintokkotsu @nikokopuffs (let me know if you'd like to be added)
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ganggangscenarios · 6 months ago
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Diamond Heart
Part 2
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Summary: You finally decide to utilise your gym membership. Personal trainer!Jungkook
Genre: Romance, comedy, smut, angst
Warnings: Body image. Negative language. Heavy smut scene at the end.
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This is the second time I've uploaded this story. The first time, I received some pretty mean comments and messages. SOOOOOO I have to say, if you don't like. my writing, that's fine, just exit my page lol. Do not leave mean comments please.
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New year, new you, right? Your new years resolution was to get your body right, eat healthily, drink less and most importantly; get in the gym. However, it had been months since the new year had begun and you still hadn’t utilised your gym membership. The fee was regularly from your bank account every month and you had yet to step foot into the establishment. You frowned every time you saw the transaction on your bank statement, but you did absolutely nothing about it. 
But the influence of  social media made you feel like you wanted to try and be a gym girlie. So you took your gym bag  to work, placed It under your desk so you didn’t have any excuse not to go. Plus, the gym was quite literally in your work building. 
You sigh change into untouched gym clothes that you had bought all the way back at the end of December, preparing for your new year’s resolution. Shame rushes over your body as you tear the tags from the tight fitting clothes and chuck them into the sanitary bin next to the toilet. Huffing and puffing you slide your socked feet into new exercise shoes. Stuffing your work clothes into the bag, you exit the bathroom stall and catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You didn’t look too bad, you looked like someone who was ready to workout. If you looked the part, you could play the part. 
Lugging the bag over your shoulder, you head to the gym. 
It was pretty empty, you were surprised, as the majority of colleagues held a membership, considering all employees got a ten percent discount as your employers owned the building.
You guess that people don’t usually come straight from work, they most likely go home and come back. But not everyone suffers from severe procrastination like you do. 
Heading to the changing rooms, to put your bag away, you pass a very good looking man, you almost trip over as your eyes stick to him. He dressed in a baggy white shirt and shorts, his feet adorned in similar shoes to yours. His hair was cut in a cool way, it was kinda long, considering all the men at work and currently surrounding him, all sported cropped haircuts. His ears and his lips were embellished with piercings, you almost walked into a wall when you saw him playing with his lip piercings, the tip of his tongue, just grazing the shiny metal. Your gaze fleetingly drops to his arm, his tattooed arm. How was a man like this working here? He should be on the cover of vogue or something. 
Tearing your eyes away from him, you manage to make it into the changing room, unscathed. You quickly lock away your bag and head back out onto the main floor, phone and AirPods in hand, ready to tackle the gym. And then it hits you a ton of bricks. You have no idea what you’re doing. You didn’t know where to start, what equipment does what, what part of your body to focus on. 
You look around at people lifting weights, running on the treadmills, using the equipment like pros.
Your eyes focus in on the 'smoke show' of a man that ‘briefly’ caught your eye earlier.  He was now sitting behind the front desk and under a large poster for personal trainers. The poster read ‘In the body gym: PT sessions available; first 2 sessions are free’. And if a sign from the universe, it doesn’t fail to mention how the offer is time limited. You take it as a sign, plus you were most likely going to try the gym twice before never going again. Might as well get free personal training out of it.
With determination, you walk towards the front desk, before stopping in front of that man of a man.  And that’s when the words on your tongue freeze. 
Jungkook notices a presence looming over him and he puts the finishing touches on the next promotional poster. He looks up and smiles. He noticed you when you first came in, you were a new face, he knew all the regulars who attended the gym and he had never seen you before. He would definitely remember a face like yours. He stands up.
“Hello, how can I help you?” He rests his tattooed hand on the desk and he notice how your eyes grow larger at the sight.
Your words are still finding it hard to get out of your mouth. You probably look like such a weirdo, standing there and staring at him. You manage to lift your finger and gesture to the poster behind him.
He smiles and his smile is the brightest smile you’ve ever seen.
“You want to book a PT session?” 
You nod and swallow the lump that had been lodged in your throat since you walked up to the desk.
“Sorry, yes, I’d like to book five.” You fumble to pull out your credit card from the back of your phone.
“I can just add the fee to your account. You don’t need to pay directly. The fee won’t be noticeable until the third session, on the account of our offer.” He leans forward to adjust your account. 
You can see down his shirt from the angle. And by the sight you can tell that he works in a gym. Hell, he might even live in it. 
He clicks a few times and quickly straightens back up, you swiftly divert your gaze.
“You are free to start your first session today.” He comes out from behind the desk and he towers over you, your knees buckle. Maybe that’s something you need to work on. Do your knees have muscles? Can you make them stronger?
“Okay, should I wait here for the trainer?” You ask.
He goes behind the desk, ducks down and then comes back out.
He extends his hand and you stare at him in confusion.
He retracts his hand, and rubs the back of his neck.
“I don’t know why I did that…” He awkwardly chuckles, shaking his head.
It can’t be. There’s no way that he’s your P-
“I’m your trainer. I hope that’s okay, the other guys are fully booked and I had a cancellation today, so I thought it’d be a cute joke…” He trails off, taking note of the smile growing across your face.
You feel kinda at ease seeing him get a little awkward attempting to joke with you. He looked like he should be the cockiest motherfucker ever, but second by second he was proving that he was the complete opposite of that. It was endearing but there was no way he could be your personal trainer, not like you had a shot with him anyway, he probably had a really fit and hot girlfriend. You digress, you didn’t want him to see you all sweaty, breathing hard and struggling to complete simple moves. 
He looks at you, his eyes doubling in size. He can tell you’re slightly uncomfortable, he could almost visualise the Neurons firing off in your head. He was attracted to you, that’s for sure, he wasn’t trying to come off as creepy. Maybe he did, and now you don’t want to train with him, maybe you’ll cancel your membership too.
He rapidly looks around the gym, hoping to catch the eye of one of his colleagues, so he could offer to trade clients. He catches Namjoon’s eye, but before he could call him over, you speak;
“It was funny, I’m just a bit scared.”
His gaze meets your eyes again. He internally feels a huge rush of relief. Thank goodness he didn’t scare you away.
“Oh good.” He tucks his hair behind his ear.
Cute. You think.
“Why are you scared?” He quickly follows up.
Shifting your weight between your feet, you answer, your voice barely audible over the EDM base leaking through the speakers.
“I don’t want to embarrass myself. You’re a professional and I don’t want to make a fool of myself.” You play with your earbud case, avoiding eye contact.
You wouldn’t be his first client who had that same fear, it was completely natural to be scared of embarrassing yourself. He felt the same way when he started boxing, the first session was nerve-racking, scared of getting anything wrong. But all you need is a good and supportive trainer. And if says so himself, that’s what he thinks he is.
“Don’t be scared. I’m here to help you. We’ll start slow, okay?” He offers a warm smile and places his large hand on your shoulder.
You almost fall from the feeling of his hand on your bare shoulder. Yes, you were acting like a teenage girl who had never interacted with a man before. But look at him. You were a grown ass woman who had never interacted with a man that looked like him before.
He leads you over to a room separate from the rest of the gym, closed off with glass doors, allowing you to see the whole place. Inside the room were a few exercise balls, foam roller and weights. The floor was soft and covered in mats.
He takes you over to the furthest mat in the room.
“Just me and you here, so don’t be nervous. This section is pretty discreet.” He reassures you.
You smile and place your phone and earbuds down on the floor next to the two mats you were currently occupying.
“We are going to start with stretching, so please sit down. I might have to help you with some of the positions. I hope you don’t mind being stretched…” His voice quietens as he realises how it sounds.
His cheeks flush a pretty pink. A hot flash that runs through you, leaves a thin layer of sweat on your hairline.
And so it begins.
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The next morning you wake up sore as fuck. All that extra stretching at the end of the session seemed useless now. Your legs feel like lead as you swing them out of bed and headed to the bathroom. As you sit on the toilet, your thighs scream at you, it was almost as if you could feel every fibre of your muscles tear. 
Your phone buzzes on the countertop. Finishing your business, you wash your hands and run the shower.
You tap the screen on your phone to see a message from Jungkook. He said it was important to have direct contact with each other, just incase he wanted to recommend some gym wear or if you had any questions. 
Jungkook (Gym): ’Hope yesterday didn’t tire you out too much. You did great 👏 ‘
Another comes in as you finish reading.
Jungkook (Gym): ‘I hope to see you at the gym (or outside) soon! Make sure to book another session! 😊’
You quickly pick up your phone, steam fills the room as the water continues to gush from the pipes.
It vibrates in your hand.
Jungkook (Gym): ‘Sorry if that was unwarranted.’
It vibrates again. You didn’t want to risk opening the messages just incase you were unsure of what to say. You really didn’t want to leave him on read unintentionally.
Jungkook (Gym): ‘Please ignore the last two messages 😣 .’ 
Jungkook (Gym): ‘Lets pretend that didn’t happen. Sorry for the spam 😔 
You click on the notification and unlock your phone. 
You: Its okay 😆  My body feels like its on fire every time I move, is that normal?
You fire off the text.
Jungkook (Gym): ‘Yes 😂  completely normal. You should buy a foam roller to massage your muscles~ But more stretching should help in the mean time. Here is a video to follow (its me btw 😳)’
He sends a link to a Youtube video. You’re intrigued. The gym seemingly had a YouTube channel. The link loads and then you see Jungkook on your screen. Holding the phone in one hand, you quickly turn off the shower and head to your bedroom. Careful not to walking into any walls, you sit on your bed. 
He greets the audience cheerfully, informing them that this was a tutorial for stretching to relieve muscle ache. He is wearing the gym’s merch, not like when you saw him the day before, it wasn’t a baggy t-shirt, no. This time it was a form fitting sleeveless, lycra shirt, with the gym’s logo nestled between his sculpted pecs. His vibrant tattoos more on show than they were in person. His legs were wrapped in shorts, that fell just above his knees. 
He encourages the viewers to get an exercise mat or find a soft surface. You follow his instruction. A loud groan escapes your lips as you struggle to sit down.
He sports the brightest smile as he guides the (most likely thirsty) watchers through the exercises.
You strain your muscles as you attempt to  toe touch. And then he says something that brings you back to the previous day, during your session.
“You might need a partner to stretch you, if you can’t get far enough. It’ll feel really good.”
You were being advised on how to stretch and then when it came to this specific stretch. You were laying on your back, hands clasped around your knee. You knew that you weren’t flexible, but  you didn’t know that you were this stiff. You tried your best to pull your leg into your chest, but you couldn’t anything.
“Its not working.” You say, letting your leg drop to the ground with a thud.
Jungkook chuckles and looks down at you, arms crossed, his biceps bulging. The strength it took to not stare was more than what you used to lift the weights.
“I think you need help.” He kneels down in front of you.
He pauses.
“I can help you, if you want.” 
You nod.
He mutters an ‘okay, great’, before asking you to resume the position. He moves forward, putting his body over yours, placing his hands on your calf and pushing your leg up and down.
You almost moan with how good the stretch felt. You try your damn hardest not to concentrate on the man who was currently on top of you. You tried not to take notice of his scent, or the small scar on his cheek, or the mole under his lip.
“Can you feel it now?” He smirks.
He knew you could feel it, he heard the noise you let slip. He tries not to think anything of it, but his mind runs wild. He had to be professional. Plus you hadn’t indicated that you were interested in him in the slightest.
You nod again. He sits back on his heels and lets go of your leg.
You’re pulled out of your reminiscent state by a notification and the sound of the phone vibrating against the floor.
Jungkook (Gym): Did it help? 😢 
You quickly reply with no thoughts. Empty headed.
You: Its not the same without you
He was gonna think you were like all those other woman in the gym who thirsted over him. You needed to fix it.
You quickly send another message.
You: *your help ☺️ 
Jungkook’s heart sank at your correction. Maybe you weren’t interested. You probably in a relationship and the last thing you wanted to deal with was a creepy PT harassing you. He doesn’t reply.
You spend your whole shower thinking about being left on read.
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Your closest co-worker, Bethany, sits across from you during in lunch. She notices how you barely make conversation, or keep the conversation. You check your phone every 5 minutes.
“Who are we waiting for?” She asks, her fork digging around in her bowl.
“Huh?” 
She chuckles.
“You’re obviously waiting for someone to text. You keep on looking at phone like every two seconds. So, who are we waiting for?”
You didn’t know you were being that obvious. 
“Well… My personal trainer is a total twenty out of ten. And he messaged me this morning to give me some stretching tips, and I may have ended our last convo on a creepy note. And now I think that he’s ghosting me because I was a creep. He probably blocked me. I’m probably banned from the gym.” Words rush out of your sauce covered lips. Maybe spaghetti wasn’t the best meal to have in the middle of the day.
Bethany shoves a napkin in your face, which you accept gratefully. She request to see the messages. Embarrassed, you hand your phone over to her.
She remains silent as she scrolls down the screen.
“He has a crush on you.” She finally speaks, her eyes fixed on the screen, her thumb pressing down. She was doing more than looking at the messages.
“You better not be sending another message.” You warn her, hand reaching across the table.
She swiftly moves her chair back, so your phone is out of reach.
“If you don’t snatch him up, someone else will. Oh my God, he is…” She doesn’t finish her sentence, she turns the screen towards you. And you freeze. It is a picture of a rather muscular man’s bare back, the hair at the nape of his neck was wet with sweat. And the tattooed arm… You knew that arm. It was in your dreams last night.
“W-where did you find that?”
She smiles and her thumb resumes the swiping motion.
“It was in his previous profile pictures.” She leans back in her chair.
“His picture is a brown dog.” You sit back, the image burnt into your eyes.
How were suppose to act now that you’ve seen that?  All you can imagine is digging your nails into that back as-
See? You’ve been corrupted. No, you must be ovulating, that why the impure thoughts plague your mind. You’ve seen good looking men before, but you’ve never had such a primal reaction before. You also didn’t know him well enough to like anything besides his looks. His very, very, very good looks.
“He has a ton of pictures. He may be the first guy ever who’s good at taking pictures. Damn, look at this.” She turns the screen towards you once more. This time he was standing in a mirror, hair slicked back and in a black button down. 
“I can never go back to the gym. I guess my new years resolution is not going to be fulfilled.” You sigh, leaning forward to put your head in your arms.
Suddenly, Bethany gasps.
“He replied.” She smiles.
Your heart drops to your stomach. 
“I can’t look. You read it.” You close your eyes, not wanting to look at her face.
She clicks on the notification. It felt as if seconds were taking hours to pass.
“Aww~” 
Your head pops up, eyes shoot open.
“Aww?” 
She nods.
“He said ‘I’d be glad to help, I like you.”
You lunge forward and grab the device out of her hand.
It shakes in your hand
Jungkook (Gym): * your company 😜 
Your heartbeat quickens and a smile spreads across your face. He was nicely making fun of you, recalling back to your little save earlier.
“If you don’t go for it, I will.” Bethany jokes, her engagement ring, glistening under the lighting of the restaurant.
You sit back in your chair, clutching the phone, thinking of a reply. The phone buzzes again.
Jungkook (Gym): I hope I didn’t ruin my chances of asking you out for dinner after our training sessions. I hope it didn’t come off as creepy 🤢 
You didn’t dwell on a reply, you thumbs swiftly move across the screen as you type out a reply.
You: Why wait? 🫤 
Jungkook didn’t want to rush anything just incase the attraction was purely physical. You still had four sessions left. He didn’t want to put either of you in that uncomfortable position of feeling like you were stuck with someone you had a bad experience with. What if you found him boring, or strange, or creepy? Oh he was so stupid, luckily you seemed interested, but he didn’t even ask if you were single or not, he just pounced on you like some sort of predator.
Jungkook (Gym): I want you to keep on coming to the gym. I want it to go well.
Your heart melts.  It was endearing. That someone that looked like him could be nervous. 
You send a heart emoji and lock your phone, placing it screen down on the table. As you’re about to open your mouth to discuss your messages with Bethany, your phone rings. Flipping it up, you see the name on the screen; Jungkook.
You show Bethany. She snatches the device from you and answers it, shoving it to your ear.
“Hello?” You say.
“Hi. How are you?” His silky, yet raspy voice bleeds through the speakers.
Your eyes zero in on the left over food on your plate, your finger mindlessly tracing patterns into the table.
“I-I’m good. You?” 
You could hear the EDM music that played in the gym come through the phone. It must be at work.
“Same. Uh, do you want to come in today? I could help the soreness go away? Well, not completely, but feel better?” He suggests, shyly. You practically see his tattooed arm raise to go behind his neck to shake through the back of his hair.
You didn’t have any plans to go to the gym for another 2 days Your sweaty clothes were still stuffed in your gym bag next to your front door. You hadn’t even bothered to put them in the laundry.
“Uh… I don’t have my gym clothes today.” You lean back in your chair.
Jungkook was unsure of how he was going to come off but he had to try. He really wanted to see you, he felt pathetic having a crush like this. Pursuing a crush like this.
“We have gym apparel here.” He says.
You almost scoff. Not meaning to come off as condescending. You try to disguise the scoff as a cough.
“I’m not really a gym girlie. So I’m not into buying gym clothes like that… I’ll be come in on Friday tho-“
He cuts you off.
“I’m looking at the system now and your membership actually expires tomorrow. You signed up for a 6 month contract and well… its been 6 months.” 
He was telling the truth, but he was coming off as desperate.
“Oh. Um, Its my lunch break right now, I guess I could quickly come in to renew. I’ll be there soon.”
You both mutter a quick farewell before ending the phone call.
“Sounds like he really wants to see you.”
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You walk into the gym, feeling slightly uneasy dressed in your work clothes, your heels sinking into the padded floor. You immediately spot Jungkook who was currently with a client at one of the machines, a young woman who looked like she didn’t really need to be in the gym, but thats probably what hard work and dedication gets you. Results. He was dressed casually as always, a t-shirt and baggy shorts. This time a beanie encased his raven locks. You rip your gaze away from the two of them and head to the front desk. A young man greets you, you read his name tag ‘Namjoon’. He was tall, buff and oh so handsome. Was that the requirement to work at this gym?
How can I help you today?” Namjoon asks.
“Hi, I need to renew my membership.” You start.
The man smile, his dimple becoming more prominent with every tooth that displays.
“Sure, what’s your name?” His fingers ready to enter your information into the computer.
You give him your name, placing your handbag on to the counter to find your ID just incase.
Namjoon’s eyebrows reach his hairline and his yells for Jungkook. You’re startled at the sudden outburst. You look up at him in confusion. He gives you a curt smile before backing away from the counter and jogging over to Jungkook. You follow him with your eyes as he approaches Jungkook. You’re unable to hear their conversation as a count of the the loud music and the distance. You see Jungkook turn to his client and she dismounts from the machine and takes a swig of water. The two men exchange a few words before Jungkook heads your way. He approaches you with a gleaming smile on his face. You return a shy grin.
He jogs behind the counter.
“Is there a problem? Couldn’t Namjoon, is that his name? Couldn’t he do it?” You tilt your head in wonder.
Jungkook felt a pang of jealousy in his chest, he didn’t enjoy the fact that you seemed to want Namjoon to assist you when he was right there.
You notice his eyes flicker and his smile falter.
“You looked busy, I didn’t want to bother you.” You reach your hand out in defence.
His smile returns at its luminescence.
“Its no bother. I was expecting you.” Types in your information into the system and prints out a new contract. He quickly turns around to grab the sheet of paper from the printer. You take the time to admire his back, the image of his shirtless back flashing through your mind. 
Your thoughts are interrupted when he puts the contract down on the counter and gestures to the pen perched in it’s stand. He tells you where to sign. You quickly sign and date on the dotted line before handing it back to him.
“Do you want to grab dinner tonight?” He asks.
You’re taken aback by the sudden invite. 
Before you could respond, Jungkook’s client saunters over to the two of you.
“Kookie, are we going to finish the session?” She leans on the counter, and you take the opportunity to take a glance at her body. She had the physique of a dancer, or a model. She was definitely on someone’s (your) vision board.
You weren’t an overly insecure person, but thats was mostly because you kept to yourself  and limited your use of social media. But in times like these, when you unintentionally comparing yourself to another woman who was just simply existing in the presence of a good looking man. You wrap your blazer around your waist trying to shield your shape as you feel her eyes dart up and down your body.
“Yeah give me one second.” He doesn’t turn away from you.
Jungkook was about to open his mouth, when the lady interrupts;
“He’s really good. He’ll get you into shape in no time! He also offers meal plans, if he hasn’t told you already.” She gives you the once over one more time. 
You feel yourself fold in. Your shoulder slump and chest caves in. You suddenly become aware of your body and how different it was in comparison to all the people in the gym. In comparison to Jungkook, who was seemingly trying to ask you out right now. You thought of his intentions. Was he trying to garner more business for the gym? Was he going to take you out and suggest that you sign up for more PT sessions? Or maybe he was simply doing his job? And he asked all his clients out to dinner so he could monitor their eating habits?
Or MAYBE it was worse; and he got a kick of leading innocent woman into thinking they had a chance with men like him. And all the people at the gym knew it?
“Clara, I’ll be over in 5 minutes. Namjoon is gonna take over for a while.” He gestures over to Namjoon, who was leaning against a machine, patiently waiting for her to return.
She scoffs before walking away, making a point to sway her hips as she walks away. Jungkook rolls his eyes and looks back at you, a smile resting on his visage.
“Are you free tonight?” He asks, his eyes grow with hope.
The hope soon dissipates when he watches your face distort with uncertainty.
“Look, I don’t want you to go above and beyond for me. I just want to get used to coming to the gym first. Um… I know I’m not a supermodel but-.” He stops you.
“What?” He brows furrow in confusion. He runs through the past few minutes in his head and wonders where he may have misled you. He knew he sometimes had the misfortune of mixing up his words and confusing people, but he honestly didn’t think he mixed up his words this time. He barely spoke.
“I appreciate your help, but please don’t feel obliged to go outside the boundaries of the gym t-.” He cuts you off again.
“Boundaries?” He questions.
You swallow the hard lump that had formed in your throat, you already felt small, but you felt yourself becoming smaller.
“Yeah. I know you offer ‘meal plans’. But we don’t have to go out for dinner in order for you to sell them to me.” You choke out.
Jungkook’s eyebrows raise and his mouth drops open.
“I-I. No.” Is all he can say.
“No?”
“No. I want to take you out because I like you. Well I like what I know of you. I want to get to know you. I think you’re gorgeous by the way.” The last part comes out under his breath.
You’re lost for words, you don’t know whether you should apologise or question his response.
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I wanted to wait until after our sessions were done so you didn’t get the wrong impression.” He looks down at his shoes.
You felt so bad, jumping to conclusions, you were the one who forced to ask you sooner. He was trying to make you comfortable, he never said anything about your appearance or made you feel any less than. You forced your insecurities on a really nice guy, who showed a little interest in you. 
“I’m sorry. Maybe I should get another trainer. And I’m-“ His gaze meets yours, eyes wide.
“No, no! I still want to be your trainer and take you out! I just hope I didn’t give you the wrong impression. I really like you.”
You shift in your spot, clutching your bag.
He pulls his phone from his pocket and taps the screens a few times. He shows you the screen.
“Look, if you don’t want to get dinner, which I understand. Lets go here. Its a painting cafe, its open til late night and they have drinks. Its really chill. You mentioned in our first session how you wanted yo do something creative, right?”
You smile,  he was seemingly trying so hard.
“Okay.” You say, coyly.
He beams.
“Okay?”
You nod.
“I’ll meet you outside at 6:30?” He locks his phone and slides it back into his pocket.
“Okay!” You smile before turning around and walking away.
This time, Jungkook watches you walk away, failing at containing the smile that had exploded on his face.
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Jungkook knew his last client of the day felt rushed, he didn’t bother with the final stretches like he usually does, he didn’t even bother to jokingly flirt with the 75 year old woman like he usually did either. He aided her in putting the 2kg weights back on the rack before running into the men’s changing room, stripping and jumping into the shower. 
He scrubbed his body head to toe, making sure to get rid of the grime from the day.
Before he knew it, he was waiting outside of the building, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He catches a glimpse of his reflection and he immediately fixes his hair, one strand would not stay in its place, he knew he needed to use more hair gel. He should’ve asked Jimin if he could use a little more. 
Staring through the glass, he saw you coming, caught up in the crowd of people who were dying to get home. 
Finally, you come through the doors and walk up to him. You greet him brightly, hoping he can’t hear the nerves plaguing your voice.
He beams at you and asks about your day. He informs you that the place wasn’t too far away and was in walkable distance.
The start of the date was awkward, as expected, no more than a few words at a time being exchanged. He was ever the gentleman, before picking out a design for your canvases, he helped you  out with your apron. You fought to keep your knees from buckling as he came in close from behind to tie the back. You do the same for him, the height difference, between the two of you becoming ver present, as well as the broadness of his back.
The host lead you two a secluded room, as you both clutched your chosen designs in hand. The room was quite romantic, low lighting, except for the luminous light surging each easel. There was a table separating the two chairs, displaying the paint and the brushes. You glance at Jungkook and see the look of glee.
You both place the canvases on the easels and take your seats. The host, takes place in front of the two of you.
“You have 2 and a half hours, you are free to use all the material here. If you need anymore, please press the call button.” She gestures to the button, stuck to the end of the table, covered in the paint bottles.
She continues;
“This is an evening painting session, so we now serve wine at the bar. Selective dishes are also available to order. Coffee and snacks are still available. And… please refrain from any inappropriate behaviour, or you will be asked to leave and banned from the premise. We do have CCTV in each room.” She offers an awkward smile and swiftly leaves the room.
Jungkook hopes you don’t think that he brought you here for illicit reasons. Maybe you’d think he was one of those sleazy guys who take women to private rooms and try it on with them. Shit. You haven’t said anything. Shit. He hasn’t said anything. He’s been in his head for the past few seconds.
“I hope I’m not bad at this.” You say, breaking the silence, with a light laugh.
He turns to you and smiles, picking up a paintbrush and offering it to you. You take it and return the smile.
From then on, the date runs smoothly. You both decide to order a bottle of wine and share a plate of  pasta. One bottle turned into two, and the room was filled with laughter and stories. The misunderstandings of the afternoon long forgotten. Before you knew it, a voice came through a small speaker, you didn’t know was there, reminding you that you had 10 minutes left.
In a burst of tipsy laughter, the two of you hurriedly finish your paintings. 
Picking up your painting and Jungkook to the ‘drying station’, located, near the entrance. You both remove your paint covered aprons before attending to your paintings once again. You take a peek at his masterpiece before you flick on the hairdryer.
“How are you real?” You ask in disbelief.
He tilts his head in confusion.
“You look amazing, you’re nice, and you can paint. What can’t you do?” You giggle.
He laughs and shakes his head.
“No, no. I- You- I mean thank you. But I think the same about you.” He says quickly turning on his hairdryer, aiming it at his picture.
The hum of the machines fill the room, echoing your laughter that once filled your ears. Your ears, that were now flushed with flattery.
The hostess takes both paintings, wrapping them up carefully, and handing you both your respective bags. She taps on the register, reading off the total bill. You reach in your bag to find your card, yeah, it was a date, but you felt strange standing there as Jungkook paid for something that could’ve easily been a platonic date… Your thoughts are interrupted.
“Do you want the receipt?” 
“Huh?” The sound slipped out.
Jungkook looks at you before answering.
“No thank you. Thank you, have a nice evening.”  His free hand grabs yours and he guides you both outside.
So… not a platonic date then.
The street was much busier than it had been than when you had arrived. It was filled with people unwinding after a long day at work, ready for the weekend. It was also littered with loved up couples, holding hands, looking for places to eat, talking to each other about who knows what. If anyone were to look at the two of you, they would think you were one of those lovelorn couples. The way your hand fit in his, pace matching his, laughter mixing harmoniously with his.
“Thank you for tonight. I had so much fun.” You pull him to a stop, pulling him into a side road, away from the foot traffic.
Jungkook feels his heart swell, he was so happy. He felt like it went well, but to hear you say it? Made him feel like he was flying. To think that a few hours ago, it was all almost slipping away from him. He found himself drawn to you, he couldn’t explain it. He always believed that that’s how he’d find his ‘person’. It would just feel right. And it does.
“Me too. Thank you for giving me a chance.” He takes both your hand in his, eyes growing double in size.
You didn’t think it was possible for a man like him to look cute, but here he was, with his eyes shining, looking down at you. Looking as adorable as ever. You move closer, you were aware of your actions, but you also knew that the wine you drank was giving you the courage to do what you were about to do.
“I would like to k-“
“Yes.” A puff of air tickles your lips, as he closes his eyes.
He doesn’t feel anything.
He opens his eyes and steps back.
“Oh I’m sorry, I as-“
You pull him in and plant you lips on his. Its not perfect, you miss slightly, you feel his lips curl into smile. His hand leaves yours and meets your waist, bringing you in closer, he readjusts his lips on yours. His lip rings indenting into the plum flesh of your bottom lip. You have the sudden urge to feel it on your tongue. You swipe your tongue along his bottom lip, letting it tease the metal accessory for a few milliseconds before slipping it into his mouth. A low growl rumbles in his throat and he tangles is tongue with yours. Your hand finds its way to the back of his neck, fingers delving into the hair at the nape of his neck. His hand wonders from your waist to your lower back, fingers inching closer to your behind.
The sound of a throat clearing brings you to a halt.
You separate, the rustling of your bags, sounding like teens laughing at their peers being caught making out at a high school house party.
“We should uh… get going.” You say, using your fingers to wipe the saliva from your mouth. 
Jungkook licks his lips and nods. You were more than ready to go about being awkward and distant but that was never his plan, he grabs your hand and walks with you like he’d been kissing you like that.
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He walks you back to the work building and calls you a taxi. You both bid each other a sweet goodnight, exchanging smiles and hugs before parting ways.
Jungkook makes sure to text you as soon as he watches your taxi drive down the road, telling you how much he enjoyed spending time and how he hopes he could do it sometime soon. 
Your heart jumps at the sound of your phone vibrating in your bag. It does backflips as your eyes take in his words. For the second time that evening you ask him;
You: How are you real? 😂 
He smiles to himself as he heads home, he snaps a quick picture of himself and sends it.
Jungkook 💕: Very real and all yours lol
He immediately regrets sending it. Fingers scrambling, he sends a second message.
Jungkook💕: If you’ll have me 🥴 
He must be playing a joke on you, right? What does this tall, handsome, funny, sweet PERSONAL TRAINER want with you? He’s seen you, right? He’s seen the other women who go to his gym, right? 
Jungkook looks at his message and sees the ‘1’ disappear. You read it. And you weren’t replying. He came on too strong. Great, he ruined the perfect evening.
Just as about he was about to type out an apology, your message pops up.
You: Do you have a fetish or something?
He furrows his eyebrows. Figuring texting is messing up true feelings, he presses the voice call button.
Your eyes widen when you see his name on your screen. You pick up.
“Hi.” 
“Hey. Fetish?” He gets right to it.
“Yeah. You know…” Your voice comes out as a whisper.
He stops walking, he sits on a bench.
“I don’t know. To be honest, I’m very confused.”
You felt so embarrassed. You let your insecurities get the best of you and sabotage this relationship before it had the chance to even start. 
“Jungkook. You’re you and…”
You pause. You feel your eyes water. 
“I’m me. I’m not in the best shape and I’m not skinny or have a perfect hourglass figure. I’m definitely  heavier than you.” You let out a dry laugh.
“I’m struggling to understand and believe that you like me. And that this isn’t some sort of sexual thing.” Your breath shakes.
Jungkook’s brows are now in permanent furrowed state, that never crossed his mind. Of course it didn’t because he didn’t think of you like that.
He says your name. It was different from the way you’ve heard it said by other guys before when you’ve brought up the same issue. He didn’t say with defeat or dipped in grease. It was usually followed by ‘you should take it as a compliment, I think big girls are sexy’. ‘I wanted to see what it was like’
Jungkook said nothing of the sort;
‘I’m me and you’re you. I like you. I like everything about you. Well, what I know so far, I want to know more. I want to go on more dates, I want to see where this goes. Hopefully it can go far. I’d really like that. And you may not understand why I like you, but you don’t have to right now, I’ll show you. I’m sorry if a guy has made you feel like you’re a plaything and not likeable. I wish I could punch him.”
You laugh.
“I like hearing you laugh. I want to be the reason for that. Thank you telling me how you feel and not just ghosting. I appreciate it. “ You could hear him smile through the phone.
He couldn’t be real. But you had to tell yourself he was or you’d fuck it up.
“Thank you for not being weirded out.” You sniffle.
He laughs.
“After kissing me like that? I’m locked in.”
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2 months later
Jungkook was a very understanding and patient boyfriend. He must’ve gotten a lot of practice from his job as a personal trainer. He pushed you to try new things, go to new places, but he always made sure you were comfortable. He was a living manifestation of your dream man.
He had asked you to be his girlfriend during your 5th and final training session. You were stretching together, he had your leg stretched out and next to your head (definitely not gym approved), when he ‘popped the question’. You agreed very quickly and kissed him, only for the kiss to be interrupted by ‘Clara’, the client who was convinced that she was playing the long game with Jungkook.
She lets out a loud gasp before storming out of the room.
“I think I may have lost you a client. Sorry.” You giggle.
He pecks your lips and releases your leg.
“But I gained a girlfriend.
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Jungkook invites you over for a movie night after work on a Friday night. He’s ever the gentleman, he waits outside the building, takes your bag and holds your hand the entire walk  to his house. You had been over to apartment on several occasions. But never for an overnight stay, for a moment or two before heading out. You head to the bathroom, taking your overnight bag, you wash off your makeup, change out of work clothes and into a oversize shirt and sleep shorts. Neatly folding your clothes back into your bag, you head back out into the living room.
He looks up at you as you place your bag under the breakfast bar.
“You look cute.” He smiles, cutting up strawberries into a bowl.
You walk up next to him, your brushing up his broad back and wrapping around his waist. You kiss his cheek.
“Thank you.” You kiss his jaw.
You were both quite wary when it came to physical intimacy, you’d cuddle, hold hands and occasionally kiss, but things were moving very slowly. You wondered if he was even attracted to you (you tried to push the bad thoughts to the back of your head) , as he rarely ever initiated contact. You were still trying to come across has chill and nonchalant, but the truth was… you were horny. You wanted to jump his bones every time you saw him, he was gorgeous. He had been bragging about a delicious dish that he learned to make, and how excited he was to show you. You were a bit reluctant about accepting the invite, you’d been to his apartment before, but for only a few minutes at a time.  You had never spent time with him in his house with access to a bed.
You help him cook, despite him telling you to sit down. You both sit down and enjoy the meal, sharing laughs and stories from the day. After eating, you wash up together, feeling very domestic.
Drying your hands, you shyly you ask;
“Should we watch a movie?” 
Jungkook dries the last bowl and smiles, that shy smile that you adored so much.
“Sure, the remote is on the couch. Pick whatever.”
You place the dish towel down ever so carefully, the silence lingering in air before you speak.
“I uh was thinking we could uh watch it in your bedroom. If you’re comfortable of course.” You pick the towel up once more, wringing it in your hands, palms turning red.
He notices your hesitation, places the bowl in the cabinet, gently pulls the towel out of your hands and wraps his arms around you. You immediately relax into the hug.
“Don’t be nervous to ask for things like that. I want to cuddle with you wherever. It’ll be nice.”
Before you knew it, you were under the sheets with Jungkook on top of you, lips locked, legs too, entangled in a heated position. One arm was around his neck and one was around his tiny waist, sneaking up his shirt. He moaned into the kiss, the deep guttural sound causing a pool arousal to soak your underwear. His large hand had naturally made its way on to your breasts, he has growled at the feeling of your braless tits in his hand. His other hand was above you, resting on the pillow. He let his body rest on you a little, increasing your temperature ever so slightly. You gasp into his mouth, feeling something firm pressed against your stomach. He kisses your lips once more before moving to your cheek, down to your jaw and then your neck, sucking your skin slightly. You weren’t a particularly vocal person in bed, but his actions were making hard for you to keep quiet, involuntary whines escaping your body.
“I-I’m h-hot.” You whimper.
He smirks.
“Yeah, you are.”
You snort.
“No~ I’m literally hot, can we take off the blanket?” 
“Oh.” He laughs and flips the blanket off, rolling to the side of you, leaning on his elbow.
He stares at you. Before you could ask a question, his lips are on yours again. His hand cups your jaw. You kiss him back fervently, your hand
He pulls away, lips a hairbreadth from yours. His hand travels down your body, caressing your breast, squeezing your waist. Which makes you tense up. Your waist and stomach were areas that you were self conscious about, it felt like he was squeezing your flaws. 
Think about something else. Thinking about something else.
He feels you go stiff.
“Are you okay?” He asks, lips pink and swollen.
You nod.
“Just touch me.” You grab his hand and place it on your waistband.
He bites his lips, without breaking eye contact, his fingers disappear into your shorts. He touches you over your panties first. He moans at the feeling of the soaked material.
“You’re so wet. All for me?” He smirks, eyebrows raised.
Your breath gets caught in your throat as he moves your panties to the side and his thumb meets your clit, fingers gliding over your folds. He takes his time before curling his long fingers into you, causing your to moan out in pleasure, wrapping your fingers around his wrist. He slowly fucks his fingers into you. The room is filled with the crude wet sound of your heat and the murmur of the voices of the long forgotten movie playing on TV.
You’ve never sounded like this before, unintelligible sounds tumbling from your lips as he pumps his digits in and out, hitting that place deep inside you.
“Y-your’e gonna make me c-“ You kiss him and place your hand on his bulge that had been growing.
He hisses, bucking into your hand. He takes his fingers out of you and hurriedly removes your shorts and underwear. You barely have time to think when his mouth meets your centre. His thick tongue licks you up, sucking on your pearl, like the best candy he’s ever tasted in his life. Your hands shoot out to grab his hair as you shake. You grunt out his name as you cum, eyes rolling to the back of your head, you try to catch your breath.
Jungkook rises to his knees and rips off his shirt, you catch a glimpse of his adonis like body before his kisses you. How were you in bed with someone who looks like that? Even though you had just felt like jelly, your brain tells your body to tense up. You kiss him back, trying your best to push the thoughts away, but as your hand feel up his toned, muscular physique, it was getting harder to fight them away.
Jungkook feels you tense under his touch. He pecks your lips before pulling away.
“Are you okay?”  He asks, brown eyes glistening.
You nod and try to push the intrusive thoughts to the back of your mind. He raises his eyebrows, non verbally questioning you. You nod once again and presses your lips against his. He moans and kisses you back passionately. His hands wonder again, gripping your waist and pulling you closer to him. Your muscles tense once again. He feels you go stiff, he pulls away again.
Your eyes remain closed, scared to look at him. You’ve really fucked up now, he probably thinks you’re weird, and he probably regrets giving a ‘fat’ girl a chance.
“You’re not okay. Tell me what’s wrong baby.” He moves closer to you and brushes hair out of your face, but then he quickly retracts.
“Do you not want me to touch you?” 
You open your eyes, not daring to look at him, your stare tasering in on every detail of his bedroom ceiling.
“I’m sorry if I m-“
“No! I just have- I’m just… All I keep thinking of is what you must think.”
He looks at you puzzled.
“What I think?”
You take a deep breath and sit up, pulling your legs into yourself.
“You must’ve been with girls who have insane bodies, and you work at a gym for god’s sake! And now you’ve got to tolerate me. I don’t wanna put you off by taking off my shirt.” You ramble.
Jungkook barely keeps up with your words, he wants to grab you and tell you that you’re beautiful, and that he is more than attracted to you. But he didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, you were literally telling him how you were uncomfortable you were with him touching you. Well, you didn’t say that explicitly but he didn’t want to push you further.
Him just sitting there was making you more anxious, maybe he had been hiding his true feelings. He did find you repulsive, maybe he was being kind and didn’t know how to let you down gently. 
Without sparing a glance his way, you attempt to get off the bed. He stops you, hand gently landing one your thigh. You stare down at his tattooed fingers, slightly gripping, leaving dents in your skin.
“Don’t go. I think you’re gorgeous. L-like the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. That I’ve ever had the privilege to meet, to date, to kiss… To touch.”
You scoot back on the bed, eyes never leaving his.
“N-now I understand if you don’t wanna stay the night anymore, but.. I really want you to stay. And we don’t have to do anything, I won’t even touch you. I can sleep on the couch if that would make you more comfortable.”
He moves his hand towards your face, fingertips hovering over your cheek, scared to brush your hair out of your face.
“Even if you want to leave, please don’t leave thinking that I don’t want you or that I’m not attracted to you. You are perfect to me and it sucks that guys have made you feel like you aren’t the most beautiful woman in the world. “
You look into his eyes and you can feel his sincerity. You lean into his open hand, letting his palm warm your cheek. 
“I-i want you to touch me. I want you to want to touch me.”
Jungkook grabs your face and kisses you.
“I do want to touch you. I want to do more than that. But I want you to feel more than comfortable with that.”
You kiss him, deepening the kiss before he even has the chance to pull away. You wrap your arms around his neck and you fall back, pulling him on top of you.
He rolls you both onto your sides and places his hands firmly on your hips. He moans into your mouth, sending heart down between your legs. You clench around nothing and rub your legs together, in an attempt to relieve yourself.
Jungkook’s hand brushes your thigh, as if he was asking for an invitation inside. You spread to let him in, his fingertips once again dance along your folds, becoming slick with arousal. He toys with your hardening nub, making you twist and turn. His mouth detaches from yours and land on your neck. He licks and kisses a spot that makes it impossible to keep quiet. Your arms wrap around his body, nails digging into the taut skin of his back. His fingers tease your opening before plunging in deep. His fingers move smoothly and quickly, pulling egregious noises from your lips. He feels you tighten around his fingers.
“Are you gonna cum for me again? Soak my fingers?” He whispers in your ear.
You feel a burning flash run through your body as you let go and experience release. You come undone and as you do, he presses his lips against yours, licking into your mouth. He gently pulls his fingers out of you and brings his fingers to his lips, alternating between kissing you and tasting your release.
Breath heavy, you snake your hand down between your bodies, fingers brushing his hardness in his boxers. He shudders. It had been a while since he had had sex. People perceived him as a hardcore fuckboy but he was truly the opposite. He wanted to be in a relationship, truthfully, that’s the only way he could cum, knowing the person beneath him was ‘his’.
“I don’t think I’m gonna last. I-I’m sorry.” He breathes out.
You smirk before pushing him back onto the bed and kneeling next to him. You bend at the waist and place a kiss over his boxers. His breathing gets heavier, chest heaving, abs clenching.
You palm his length before pulling him out and taking him into your mouth. You both moan as you sink deeper and feel him it the back off your throat. You suck gently, pulling off to lick at his tip.
His hand lands on the back off your head, slowly coming around to stroke your cheek. You maintain eye contact as you bob up and down. His eyes roll to the back of his head and he throws his arm over his eyes, unable to control his body as the pleasure takes over. 
Suddenly, he gently pulls your hair, forcing you off of him.
“I’m gonna cum. I wanna feel you.” He confesses.
He sits up and reaches over to open his bedside table draw. You watch as he pulls out a foil packet. Expertly, he rips it open and slides the condom over his length. He turns back to you, encouraging you to lay back on the bed.
You lay back, and part your legs. He lines up with your core and gently pushes in. He hisses out a few curse words as he feels. You tighten around him. He almost collapses with how good it feels.
“So fucking tight.” He says through gritted teeth.
His grip on your hips tightens as he rocks back and forth. His tip hitting a spot in you that makes you scream in pleasure. He leans over you, encouraging you to hold on to him.
You both find a steady rhythm, moans reaching a crescendo as you explode. He follows shortly after, you feel the warm fill the condom. He rolls off you and next to you on the bed. 
“Y-you are so sexy. Fuck.” He breathes out, chest heaving.
You laugh and turn to look at him.
“Thank you. I think you are too.” You reach out and brush his slightly damp hair out of his face. The angles of his chiseled face glisten more with the assistance of the tin layer of sweat that had formed on his skin.
He scoots closer to you and pecks your lips before getting up to get rid of the soiled condom that has become baggy with the deflation of his length.
You watch his figure as he heads into the bathroom.
You sigh a sigh of happiness. You might never be completely happy with yourself but you hope you can be happy with him and learn to love yourself as much as he might.
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Hope you enjoyed this! Once again, no mean message please :)
1K notes · View notes
junkissed · 6 months ago
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ocean view
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member — junhui x f reader genre — romance, smut, strangers to lovers, soulmate au word count — 8.8k synopsis — an all expenses paid trip to greece for your friend's wedding seems too good to be true, but it gets even better when you meet a handsome stranger on the beach. with the help of a mysterious old lady, her magic deck of tarot cards, and one too many coincidences, you're starting to believe things really do happen for a reason. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, unprotected sex, fingering, marking, an oddly romantic one night stand, mentions of past hookups, reader wears dresses, way too much yearning, happy ending ! notes — my part for the @svthub world tour collab; check out the masterlist here! thanks to @multi-kpop-fanfics for answering all my questions and the biggest thanks ever to @onlymingyus for proofreading & helping me brainstorm throughout !! inspired mostly by the spell mv but also a little bit from nana tour and in the soop bc of the vacation vibes. disclaimer i know nothing about tarot but i did a ton of research so i hope that part makes sense anyway :) this fic was a huge challenge to write so please please reblog if you enjoyed reading, the feedback is super appreciated and it helps me keep writing!! read bonus material here!
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they say time flies when you’re having fun.
it felt like just days ago when your best friend had announced she was flying everyone to athens for her destination wedding. between helping prepare for the wedding and getting yourself packed for the trip of a lifetime, a weekend on the beach sounded like exactly what you needed to unwind.
but now that you’re here, you’ve quickly realized that your dreams of lazy spa days, massages, and lounging on chairs in the sand with cocktails aren’t on your friend’s itinerary.
what is on her itinerary, however? clubs. lots of clubs, and bars, and raves.
the night before the wedding, you’d showed up at the place you had all planned to meet at for her bachelorette party, a popular bar right on the beach in the center of everything. you hadn’t been sure what to expect, so you’d worn your swimsuit underneath your sundress just in case. between wedding plans and jet lag, you hadn’t yet had the chance to explore the beaches, and you weren’t about to let your favorite white strappy one-piece go to waste without wearing it the whole trip; especially not when you’re surrounded by gorgeous clear waters you don’t get to see while you’re at home.
you tug at your dress a little awkwardly, a simple off-white piece with buttons all down the front. cute and casual, the perfect thing for an evening on the beach. except an evening on the beach is not what you’re getting.
“next round is on me!”
all the girls let out a cheer, clapping and whooping as they raise their glasses. you’re still not even halfway through your first drink; the night is young, but your friends are more enthusiastic partygoers than you are.
you lean away to check the time on your phone, trying not to feel defeated when you see how early it still is. you’ve been trying to hype yourself up for tonight all weekend, but it doesn’t help that your friends are bigger partiers than you. that isn’t to say that you dislike parties, or that you never go out; but parties like this, huge events with hundreds of people packed into a small space with loud music and flashing lights, aren’t really your ideal way to spend a saturday night. even for such a special, rare occasion like a bachelorette party in another country, you can’t bring yourself to get lost in the scene. you should’ve known how this would go, and yet here you are, standing at a cocktail table by yourself surrounded by drunk women.
you turn back around and suddenly the bar is a sea of unfamiliar faces, everyone around you lost in their own worlds jumping and dancing to the music that booms from the speakers. you stand up on your tiptoes to see above the crowd, trying to push your way through in search of someone you recognize, but it seems like they’ve all vanished.
the pounding of the music is starting to give you a headache, so you down the last of your drink and head away from the bar, pushing past people until the crowd eventually starts to thin and you break out into the open air.
it’s still light outside, but the contrast from the darkened bar makes it feel like stepping into another world. the noise gets quieter the farther away you move, and you find your feet carrying themselves down the beach. you walk backwards, turning to look over your shoulder one more time to see if you can spot your friends, but all you see is a crowd full of strangers.
it’s easier to breathe out here, feeling the freshness of the ocean breeze and the salty air in your lungs as you get further and further from the people and the businesses. you turn around again and almost run straight into a man walking from the opposite direction, and you stumble into his arms before you realize what’s happening. you let out a little squeak in surprise and jump backwards, almost tripping over your own feet but his hand instinctively shoots around your waist to help keep you upright.
your cheeks burn with embarrassment, an apology already ready on your lips, but he beats you to it. “sorry,” he says with a shy laugh, slowly letting go of you and offering his hand for balance as you slip your sandal back on that had come off. he steps back and gives you a polite smile, trying to move out of your way. “you look like you’ve got somewhere to be.”
“the opposite, actually. escaping my friend's bachelorette party," you explain. 
"we're in the same boat, then," he chuckles, tucking his hands into the pockets of his shorts. "trying to ditch the bachelor party. it’s a popular place for weddings, huh?”
“seems like it.” you hum, turning to look out over the water. the setting sun glints off the surface, a clear and bright sparkling blue, and you lift your hand to keep the glare out of your eyes. “i just didn’t think it’d be so…”
“…hectic?” he asks, and you laugh a little.
"yeah, you could say that.” a warm breeze ruffles through your sundress, and you cross your arms over your chest. “i guess all weddings are like that, though.”
he nods, following your gaze off into the horizon. you go quiet, listening to the music still loud in the distance and the sound of seagulls cawing above your heads. "i was hoping to get a chance to explore more of the beaches while i'm here. i don’t get to see it often."
"wanna go for a walk?” you ask suddenly, uncrossing your arms. maybe it’s the fresh air of a new place, maybe it’s the comfort of finding another person wanting to get away from it all, but some part of you wants to stay here and find out. you’d wanted to see more of the landscape anyway, and now seems like as good a time as any, especially now that you’ve got company.
he looks over at you, judging your expression before his face softens. “that sounds perfect.”
it’s still early enough that the beach is still mostly full of tourists, adults lounging on towels while reading books and kids splashing water at each other and playing in the sand. you walk further down the beach, passing in front of a grey haired old woman sitting cross-legged on a towel, shuffling a deck of cards in her wrinkled hands.
"always lovely to see couples enjoying the islands,” she calls out to you. there’s an almost rhythmic lilt to her voice, and it’s so sudden that it makes both of you pause and turn around, having paid her no mind as you walked past before. she gestures down at the deck and you finally notice that she’s holding a set of tarot cards, a deep matte black that seems to glitter and sparkle even while shadowed. “would you like a reading?”
your cheeks start to warm, and you push down the butterflies that flutter to life when she assumes you’re together. "oh, no, we're not—”
"sure," jun says over you, and you sneak a glance up at him when you think he's not looking. "how much?"
she clucks her teeth and shakes her head, staring directly at you although she’s answering his question. "no, no, no, my dear. just offering a bit of friendly advice. won’t cost you a thing."
jun nods, but she seems like she’s waiting for your answer so you quickly nod, too. “okay. what… do we have to do?”
she places her palms over the deck and closes her eyes, falling silent. you stand in front of her, feeling a little awkward to be hovering over her like this, but she it’s like she doesn’t even notice. you share a look with jun, but after a beat he grabs your hand and grins as if to say, just go along with it.
her eyes suddenly fly open and she seems pleased with whatever she was doing. “i knew i could feel it,” she says cryptically as she begins shuffling the cards. “but let’s just see what fate has to say about it.”
she stops and pulls the top two cards from the deck, placing them face down on the towel as she motions at them with her hand. at her signal, jun bends forward and turns over one of the cards, reading it aloud. “ace of cups.”
“ace of cups,” she repeats. “an invitation. the open, uninhibited flow of emotions, creativity, and love; the awakening of your spirit. this is a new beginning for you, the start of a new season. trust yourself and your feelings, and embrace the opportunity to grow with your emotions.”
jun nods seriously like he’s taking in her words, but you can see the hint of a smile at the corner of his lips that he’s trying to suppress.
she looks at you expectantly, and you hesitate before realizing she’s waiting for you to flip over the second card. you cheeks heat as you read it, but you try not to let it show. “the… lovers?”
she smiles, and although her face looks kind you have a sense that there’s something she’s not telling. “the lovers,” she says, almost solemnly. “many people think this card is strictly about romance. and in some ways it is, but what it really represents is a choice. two diverging paths, two responsibilities. will you choose with your head, or with your heart?”
she stares at you for another moment, then looks back at jun. you both stay quiet and still, subconsciously hanging on her every word as she pauses, clearly having more to say. “having these two cards come up together… now, that’s fascinating for you two, isn’t it?”
you find yourself nodding silently, although you have no idea why. you feel jun’s hand in yours, warm and soft and grounding, and the smallest shiver runs down your spine.
“the lovers and the ace of cups are the potential for new beginnings and the fulfillment that comes with following your heart,” she says, her eyes locked with yours. “this is a very powerful and meaningful connection, but only if you make the choice that is most heartfelt. you must be willing to be your most authentic self and hold nothing back. keep your eyes open, and you will be rewarded with profound joy and happiness.”
immediately you turn to look at jun to see his reaction. he looks just as confused—but is that a hint of excitement in his eyes?—as you do. the woman’s words are… cryptic, to say the least, but it stirs up a feeling of excitement in the back of your mind that you’re trying to ignore. it probably doesn’t mean what you think it does, right?
"hey, wait, so what does—”
you turn back to look at the woman for another explanation, but there's no one there. the beach is empty except for you and jun and the slowly setting sun, a few boats tied up at the dock. you’ve walked so far down the beach that even the distant music has faded into obscurity and you’re left standing alone together, surrounded by nothing but the sounds of the waves. even the wind has died down, and it feels eerily quiet but in an almost comforting sort of way, to be alone together in a place like this.
"you believe in that kind of stuff?" you ask curiously as jun starts to walk away.
"mm… not really. but she seemed like a lonely old lady. i thought it'd make her day." he looks down at your entwined hands and squeezes lightly, almost teasing as you look up and see the grin on his face. "why, do you?"
you can't help the butterflies that instantly flutter to life in your stomach when you feel his warm hand in yours, but you shrug. "why not?"
jun doesn't reply, just nodding thoughtfully as you continue to walk hand in hand. 
with the way the atmosphere has suddenly changed, it feels like time has stopped as you meander your way along the edge of the water. you chat off and on with jun, but there’s a hefty amount of silence that neither one of you feels obligated to fill. talking to jun feels like talking to an old friend, and maybe it’s the beautiful scenery or maybe it’s the way both of you had found yourselves here looking for company.
after a while you come to a stop just below the rocks where you’d started. your footprints from where you’d run into each other are still visible, little indents in the damp sand, and it reminds you of what you were running away from in the first place. maybe you don’t want to run anymore. 
"well…”  jun says, inhaling slowly. "we should get you back to your friends. i'm sure they're looking for you."
"would it be so bad if i said i didn't want to find them?"
he pauses to gauge your reaction, and you don’t miss the flicker in his eyes as he looks at you. after a moment nods and points up the shallow cliffs, towards a little stone staircase worn down from years of being travelled on. "my hotel is just up there. if… if you wanted to stay a little longer? with me?"
you pull your lip between your teeth, looking up at him and the way the fading sunlight shines through his soft brown waves, and it only takes a second to make your decision. “i’d really like that.” 
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it turns out that missing out on your friend’s party for a few more hours is an easy price to pay for more time with jun.
the door of his hotel room barely has time to shut before your hands are on each other. you tug him closer by shirt with an eagerness you rarely allow yourself and he immediately reciprocates, pulling you by the waist until you’re pressed chest to chest.
his hand skims over your collarbone towards your neck, and you shiver at the warmth of his fingers caressing the side of your jaw. he angles your chin upwards and leans in as you meet him halfway and your lips finally touch, a low sound escaping from your throat as his nose brushes your cheek.
he makes a soft noise as he inhales, deepening the kiss until you feel your knees go weak. his hand cups your jaw harder, trying to draw you further into him, unwilling to break apart. he kisses you so softly yet you can still feel the intensity behind every movement of his lips, exploring your mouth with a gentleness that feels more natural than anyone you’ve ever kissed before.
jun curls his arm around you tighter, and you’re sure he can hear how fast your heart is beating as he kisses you again and again until you’re breathless. you slide your hands away from his chest and start to undo the buttons at the front of your dress, but he stops you. you look up and meet his gaze as his hand on your cheek moves to wrap around your waist, carefully walking you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed and you let yourself fall back onto it.
he lets out a quiet groan as you pull him down with you, landing on top of you and catching himself on his forearms beside your head. his face is inches away from yours, staring into your eyes for a beat before he presses down to capture your lips again.
his kisses feel like magic, and you almost forget exactly what you’re here to do. you’d be content to spend hours with his lips on yours and nothing else, but you’re quickly pulled away from it when he sits back and starts to slide his hands down your body, his nimble fingers skillfully undoing the buttons of your dress one by one.
he pulls the fabric away and lets it fall to the floor before leaning to kiss you again, and a grateful sigh slips from your lips at his touch. your fingers tug at his shirt and he breaks away once more to quickly pull it off over his head, tossing it behind him without a second thought.
your hands slide earnestly across his body, your fingertips trailing down his torso and the deep lines of his abs. his fingers brush over your swimsuit in tandem, tracing the cutouts of the fabric where your skin is visible and making you prickle with goosebumps at his touch.
he seems equally as content to just continue doing this, but eventually his hands make their way upwards and gently slip the straps off your shoulders. he doesn't move any further than that, waiting for you to move instead, his fingers resting at the base of your neck just beneath your chin. 
you follow his actions and shimmy the suit down, letting it bunch up at your hips. only then does he finally break apart from you, moving his mouth down to your exposed breast and letting his tongue glide over your peaked nipple. your skin tastes like salt and sweat, like sunny days and warm breezy nights, and he can't get enough of you.
the first moan you let out is like music to his ears, and immediately he craves more of them. he wraps his mouth around your other nipple while keeping his hands attached to your body like magnets, desperate to be the one to draw more of those pretty noises from your lips.
you lift your hips just a little and he quickly gets the hint, wordlessly pushing his fingers between your skin and the fabric of your swimsuit before tugging it all the way off. he pulls it down your legs and you help him kick it away, leaving you completely bare beneath him.
your hands slide across his shoulders and up the back of his neck, tangling in his hair with another moan that sends a shiver down his spine. you can’t help but roll your hips upwards against his body, squirming for more friction as your nails scratch at his scalp.
his face stays buried in your chest for a long time, moving between your breasts and planting wet kisses all along your skin. your head is spinning at the sight of this gorgeous man working his magic on your body, his hands wandering up and down with a tender purpose. you don't even know his name but you already know you're gonna be thinking about this night for months, probably even years. you're shocked at how good he is at this; there's a melancholy feeling looming in the back of your mind, knowing that this is probably the first and only night you’ll get to spend with him, but you don't have time to focus on that when you have the tingly feeling in your stomach to focus on instead.
despite not saying anything aloud you can tell exactly what he wants from you, and something about how easy this is sends a feeling of relief through you. all of the mistakes of your past hookups feel like a distant memory. there’s none of the empty conversations meant to do nothing more than fill the silence and the awkward, tentative movements that you’ve become accustomed to from strangers who aren’t familiar with your body. 
but something about the way jun touches you does feel familiar, like you’ve been waiting all your life for it, for him. his silence, something that most of your partners in the past had fought so hard to avoid, now only leaves more room for you to enjoy the sounds that often go overlooked: the wet hum as his lips connect with your skin, the distant crash of waves outside the window, the quiet whir of the ceiling fan.
jun leans down and kisses you again, shifting on top of you as his hand wanders down your hips. you pull him closer and let your hand travel a similar path, and you bite your lip in excitement when your fingers skim over the bulge straining against his shorts.
he lets out a strangled noise almost like a whimper at the contact but the sound only encourages you to add more pressure, soaking in his reactions. he whines again, pushing his hips into your hand and exhaling a shaky breath as you continue to palm him, feeling the hard outline of his cock as he struggles to keep his composure.
his knee is against your thigh and he repositions himself to press it higher between your legs, returning the favor and giving you something to grind on. instinctively your legs widen a little to give him easier access, and he rewards you with another hot, messy kiss.
you groan at the feeling, pushing your hips down towards him and rubbing yourself on him. it’s a little rough at first, but you’re already so wet that it doesn’t take long before his knee is coated in your arousal and you slide along him easily. 
after a minute he pulls back just an inch, giving you room to breathe, but one hand is still on your hip and the other curled behind you to support your neck. “good?” he asks breathlessly, and even though it’s clear as day that you’re enjoying this as much as he is, you still nod and give him an encouraging smile, and he returns it with a smile of his own. “just let me know,” he says, and the sultry yet sweet tone of his voice makes your heart skip a beat.
at your approval his hand begins to wander again, trailing over the top of your thigh. his finger slowly make their way down and you shiver, your hand stilled against his abdomen as you anticipate his next move.
you take this moment to get a good look at him; you’d been too shy to stare earlier on the beach, unsure how things were going to go. but now that he’s on top of you, shirtless and obviously just as eager as you are, you let your gaze roam unabashedly across his body. your eyes glide over his torso, the hollow slope of his collarbones and his hardened nipples, the deep-set grooves of his abs and the faint lines of his ribs beneath his skin. you want to reach out to touch him and run your hands over every inch of him, but you’re trying to be patient. and although you know your time here is limited, it seems like jun is only just getting started.
his fingers finally make it to your inner thighs, tracing the area around your pussy, but it’s still not close enough for your liking. you wiggle a little to try and encourage him, whining softly and letting out a little plea. his lips quirk up and he nods, his grip on the back of your neck tensing and tangling in your hair. 
his fingers finally brush against your entrance and you gasp, writhing at how gentle his touch is. he dips his middle finger into your heat before pulling it back out, trailing upwards to your clit to circle it for a moment before heading back down and repeating the process. it’s barely enough, yet it leaves you breathless almost instantly.
he’s staring down between your legs with an intense focus, spreading your arousal around before sinking back into you for more. and just when you think you can’t take it anymore, he pushes his finger in deeper, holding it still for a second even though you’ve already adjusted to it. he waits until you start moving, arching your back and trying to get him to go further, before he adds his ring finger and begins slowly thrusting both fingers in and out together.
you whimper and curse under your breath, trying to roll your hips to match his rhythm. he starts to curl his knuckles and you swear you see stars, despite the fact that he’s barely moving at all.
after a moment when you’ve regained the ability to breathe normally again you start to move your hand back against his bulge, shaky fingers dipping beneath the waistband of his shorts. you wrap your hand around him and your eyes widen at the thickness, the heavy weight of him in your hand and how you’re sure he must be aching by now. you feel the way his cock jerks when you squeeze ever so slightly, his fingers inside you freezing for a split second as his brain tries to process before he plunges them in even deeper, curling into you with even more fervor than before.
you hold him tighter and run your thumb over his tip, swollen and leaking with precum. he gets a little noisier with every move you make, unable to contain the pleasure he gets even from this. even the smallest touches from each other have both of you on edge in a way you’ve never felt before, drawn to each other like no one you’ve ever had before.
his clothes in the way are starting to frustrate you, so after another second you release his cock and move your hand up to the waistband of his shorts instead, trying to tug them down but it’s difficult from the position you’re both laying in.
“please,” you pant out desperately after having little success, and he obliges, pushing his shorts away as fast as possible before resuming his motions. he’s still almost completely ignoring himself as he continues to focus on you and only you, and his complete devotion gives you another boost of confidence.
now freed, his hard cock slaps against your thigh and you moan happily at finally being able to see all of him. it looks even better than it felt, thick veins bulging out across his length and his tip flushed a deep red. you wrap your hand around him once more, flicking your wrist as you start to jerk up and down.
his fingers curl upwards to massage the spot that makes your eyes roll back, and if you had any functioning thoughts left you would’ve marvelled at the fact that he was able to find it so easily, but you’re too busy arching your back against his pillow to think about that.
he can feel you starting to clench harder around him, making his fingers stutter inside you, so he pushes his other hand down on your hip to stop you from moving so much. he pulls his fingers out and your eyes dart back up to his face for an explanation, unable to stop the whimper that escapes from you at the loss, but the look in his eyes instantly puts you at ease. you can already tell he knows what he’s doing, and somehow he seems to know exactly what you need, so for once you don’t mind sitting back and letting someone else call the shots.
“can i fuck you now?” he murmurs, and it takes you a second to even hear what he said because you’re shocked at how low and rough his tone is since the last time you heard him speak. he wipes his fingers against the inside of your thigh as he waits for your reply, and you shiver at the cool wetness on your skin.
the best you can manage is a stuttered “yes”, and without a word of acknowledgement he pulls you off the bed, guiding you off your back and onto your hands and knees.
you let out a squeak at the sudden change but you let it happen, and a second later you hear his voice beside you, his breath warm against your ear. “still okay?” he asks, and despite the gruffness in his voice you can still hear the soft edge to his words.
“yeah,” you repeat, suddenly losing the ability to say anything else to express your pleasure, but somehow you know he understands. your stomach flutters at the low tone of his voice, steady and calm but so full of warmth and lust.
you feel the heat from his face move away from your skin, and you know he’s sitting up on his knees behind you. his hands slide down your sides, reaching under you to cup your boobs with both hands as he groans at the feeling. you let out a matching whine, pushing your hips back against him to feel his hard length against the soft flesh of your ass.
his hands still holding your breasts, he leans down over you to keep you flush to his body, your back pressed against his chest. he presses a kiss in between your shoulder blades, letting his tongue trace lightly over the ridges of your spine.
you grind backwards against him harder, your body on fire from his kisses as he starts to suck gently at the back of your shoulder. you’re not sure if it’s hard enough to leave marks, but you kind of hope they do, because then you’d be sure this encounter wasn’t a dream. what other explanation is there for the fact that you’ve not only met the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life, but that you’re currently on your hands and knees in his bed as he runs his lips over every single inch of you, waiting for him to fuck you? it’s too good to be true.
but it is true, and you know it when he pulls away to brush your hair to the side and expose more of your back for him. his fingers are still so gentle against your skin, his touch heavy but soft, and it makes you even more desperate for him.
after a while he lets go of you and leans back, taking his cock in his hand and gently tapping it against your ass. you groan and fall forward, pressing your face into the pillows and arching your hips up into the air. his hands slide down your sides, gripping your waist with a low groan as he leans forward to kiss the side of your neck again.
he finally pushes all the way into you, and it feels so good it takes your breath away for a second. you can feel your walls throbbing around him, struggling to adjust to the feeling of being so full in the best way, a way you haven’t felt this strongly in so long. it’s a feeling like no other, and it makes you wonder why you ever settled for anything else before this.
his hands are all over you like he can’t decide what to do first, but after a while they settle at your hips and give them an encouraging squeeze, waiting patiently for you to set the pace. finally you bring yourself to move, tipping forward to let him slide out of you just a bit before you lean back into him.
he adapts quickly to your rhythm, thrusting in and out and matching your pace, using his grip on your waist for leverage to push himself deep inside with every stroke.
“fuck,” he moans under his breath, finally breaking the silence, and with just that one sound you feel yourself starting to let go.
the words tumble out of your mouth and you ball your fists into his sheets, clinging to the bed to keep you grounded while your head is spinning. “please, please, yes—”
everything finally hits you all at once, like a tidal wave pouring over you as you fall forward and bury your face into the pillow with a broken whimper.
“don’t stop, please,” you whine breathlessly. your words are muffled by the pillow, but you can tell he’s heard them because his grip on your hips tightens even more, slamming into you with just as much force as before and carrying you through your orgasm.
jun has to bite his lip not to sail right over the edge with you, focusing all his energy on holding himself back until he feels your body go limp all at once, the waves finally subsiding and you let out a deep, pleasured exhale. he’s so close he can practically taste it, his skin flushed and damp with sweat and his abs burning with exertion. only once he’s absolutely sure that you’ve finished cumming does he let himself break, pulling out as fast as he can and wrapping his fist around his length with all the energy he has left.
he moans weakly at the loss of your tight, warm walls hugging him so perfectly, but the view as he jerks himself over you all but makes up for it. the sight of your ass pressed flush against his thighs, your lower back arched and on display like a gorgeous blank canvas, and it gives him such a rush until he can’t hold on anymore.
the warm, sticky liquid hits your back and you whimper into the pillow, instinctively lifting your hips even more towards him. his cum spurts out in thick ropes, painting your skin and pooling in the little divot at the base of your spine, running down your ass until it feels like you’re soaked in it.
he finally pulls back and lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding in, groaning as he sees you sitting still on the bed with your hips in the air. you feel the bed shift with his weight as he gets up, but you don’t pay any attention to it as you focus on trying to steady your breathing instead. something in your gut tells you to stay put, and sure enough, a minute later you hear the sink running and then feel the cool fabric of a damp washcloth brushing over your back.
he lays his hand on your ass and gently gives it a little squeeze to signal that he’s finished, and you finally fall over onto your side. you’re coasting on cloud nine, and everything feels both dulled and hypersensitive at the same time. the whir of the overhead fan is a little more prominent now, and the quiet drone echoes around in your brain.
“do you need water? or do you want a snack, or something?” jun asks, and while his voice still has a touch of shakiness as he’s recovering himself, you can tell his tone is back to the gentle and polite sound you’ve become used to hearing from him.
you shake your head, and he hums softly in acknowledgement as he points to the nightstand on the side of the bed closest to you. “there’s an extra water bottle there, if you need it. i haven’t opened it.”
you nod against the sheets, suddenly too tired to even think about forming words. jun climbs back onto the bed next to you, stretching out his long limbs and leaning against the headboard with a satisfied sigh. 
you surprise yourself when your body automatically reaches out for him, curling into his body and laying your hand across his forearm like a weight keeping him close. but what surprises you even more is when he mirrors the action, scooting closer to you and letting your head rest against his stomach. your first thought is that he makes a very comfortable pillow, and you let your eyes fall shut for a moment as your breathing returns to normal, wanting to savor this moment as you collect yourself and prepare to leave.
you open your eyes what feels like minutes later, but when you reach over to check your phone you realize you’ve been asleep for more than an hour. you inhale slowly and swallow, blinking a few times as the sore feeling in your hips reminds you of where you are.
instinctively, you start to panic a little. your friends are probably looking for you. you disappeared without telling anyone, and now you have to get back to your hotel and make sure you have enough time to sleep properly and get ready for the wedding in the morning. never mind that it was probably the best night you’ve ever spent with another person, and never mind that your friends are probably still out partying and haven’t even noticed you missing yet.
you slide off of the bed as quietly as you can, stumbling a little when your feet hit the floor. you crouch down to pick up your swimsuit off the floor and put it on, hopping on one foot as you slip each leg through the holes. it's darker outside now, but the street lamps and the moonlight shining through the sliding glass door that leads to the balcony of his hotel room are bright enough that it still feels like day. you're so focused on getting dressed and mentally running over your to-do list that you completely forget there's another person in the room until you hear his voice cutting through the silence.
“you don’t have to do that, y’know.”
you freeze and look up, your half-buttoned dress hanging loosely from your shoulders, your cheeks burning at the realization you’ve been caught.
jun swings his legs off the bed, crossing the room in a couple of strides before he’s standing in front of you. he’s wearing nothing except for the boxer shorts he threw on right before you fell asleep, and your cheeks flush even harder at the sight, despite the fact that you’ve already seen much more of him than this.
it takes every ounce of restraint you have to keep your eyes from straying, locked on his face before your gaze falls quickly to the floor where your sandals are left in a heap.
you didn’t mean to sneak off. but what else were you supposed to do? you hadn’t meant to fall asleep and stay as long as you did, either, and now you were stuck with the awkward conversation that always comes afterwards. the inevitable hurried goodbyes and uncomfortable tension as you try to put yourself back together and leave as fast as possible.
jun takes a small step closer to you, and despite all the confidence you know he has, it feels almost… tentative. as if you’re meeting for the first time and he isn’t sure whether or not he’s allowed to touch you yet.
there's a lingering feeling that you can't quite put your finger on yet. it's conflicting, because you know you can't stay but everything in you is screaming not to leave. maybe there's something you can do, anything you can do. is it all worth it? to turn your life around in a complete 180 for someone you barely even know— and yet, the last few hours that you’ve spent with him have been incomparably the best of your life.
after a moment he reaches out and starts to finish buttoning your dress for you, his fingers working them back through the loops with just as much care as he did when he was taking them off earlier.
“sorry,” you manage quietly, though you’re not even really sure what you’re apologizing for. a lot of things: sorry for running away, sorry for having feelings you probably shouldn’t be feeling, sorry for knowing this won’t work out despite the way you really, really wish it could.
but he just shakes his head as he finishes buttoning the last button. “i took it off. i can help you put it back on, too.” you can tell he knows what you had actually meant, but he’s ignoring it either for your sake or his. something about his words feels so easy, like all the problems in your head don’t mean anything anymore. here you are, an anxious and awkward and confused mess, and there he is, smoothing out the wrinkles in your dress like it’s something he’s been doing all his life.
he adjusts the strap on your shoulder with a gentle pat, but his hands linger for a few seconds longer than they should, and you lift your eyes to meet his. “can i kiss you again?” he asks quietly, and for some reason his choice of words sticks with you. not one final kiss, not a goodbye kiss, just again. like he’s refusing to admit this will probably be the last time you’ll ever see each other.
and you nod, and his hands slide up to cup your cheeks and pull you back into his lips, just as warm and just as soft and just as familiar as the first time. there’s something so innocent about kissing him, even in the midst of a complicated and confusing mess of emotions that makes you second guess everything. somewhere in the back of your mind you vaguely register that this is the last time you’ll ever kiss him, but as long as his lips are on yours it doesn’t matter. you’ll figure out how to deal with all that later; for now, the only thing you’re concerned about is the way he grips your chin and pulls you even closer.
it feels like hours later when you finally pull away, letting out a slow exhale as you try to blink yourself back to reality, and you know what has to happen now. “can you find your hotel on your own? do you want me to walk back with you?” jun asks, and you can feel the hesitancy in his voice.
“it’s not far,” you sigh quietly, turning away to slip your feet into your sandals that wait by the bed where you’d taken them off earlier. you should’ve said yes. “but… thank you.” your words hold a sincere weight to them, and it’s silent for a few seconds as you cross the room quicker than you want to.
“you could stay,” he says finally, but his hand is already on the doorknob and you both already know the answer. you hate that you have to be the one to tell him no, even though it’s been clear from the start what the outcome would be. you give him a small shake of your head, and he pulls on the knob. 
he stands and stares for a minute, watching you walk down the hallway and praying you’ll turn around. and then you do, glancing back at him over your shoulder, and he almost allows himself to have a little bit of hope that you might come back, even though you both know you can’t. when you find him still standing in the doorway your eyes light up just the slightest bit, and finally you disappear with a tiny little wave.
the door clicks shut again, and the silence that follows is louder than anything he’s heard all day.
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“and you didn’t even get this guy’s number?!”
you wince at the tone in jeonghan’s voice, rubbing the back of your shoulder guiltily. “his name, either.”
“even after the magic old lady said all that shit about soulmates?”
“she didn’t say that!” you huff. your tone rises almost defensively, although it probably has no reason to. she didn’t say anything about being soulmates… right? “she said something like, ‘keep your eyes open for stuff around you’. but he said he didn’t even believe in it, anyway.”
a waiter carrying a tray of champagne glasses walks past, and he snags a couple of them, holding one out to you. “well, it doesn’t sound like you’re keeping your eyes open. it sounds more like your eyes are closed, actually. are you blind?”
you scowl and take the glass from him. “my flight home is tonight, hannie. i’m not gonna see him again.” you take a sip, letting it sit in your mouth for a second before you swallow. “and besides, he said he was here for a wedding, too. he could be from anywhere in the world. it would be impossible to find him.”
“doesn’t hurt to at least try.” you both stop in front of a circular table covered in flowers, with a little placard next to one of the plates with jeonghan’s name on it. “i guess this is my table. you want me to help you look for yours?”
you shake your head, pointing to a table a little ways away. “i saw mine on the way in, it’s over there.”
“whatever,” he hums at you, but you know he’s just teasing. “i still wouldn’t blame you if you ditched and ran off to try and find him.”
“not happening!” you call over your shoulder as you walk away, matching his playful tone. but you can’t help but feel like maybe he’s right.
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jun taps his fingers against the table, staring mindlessly at the bubbles floating in his glass of champagne. he’s stuck in his head— no, that’s not right. that’s not the problem. you’re stuck in his head. it’s nearly a full day later and he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you, the taste of your lips, the feel of your breasts in his hands, the scent of the shampoo in your hair. if that wasn’t the most perfect hookup in the history of hookups, then he doesn’t wanna know what is.
he still feels bad for not even paying attention during the ceremony, because he was too busy imagining you and him up there on the altar kissing instead. god, what he wouldn’t give for another kiss like that. but just like you, he knows it never would’ve worked out, and despite the what-ifs that are chewing him up inside and the fact that he definitely, absolutely, totally would’ve tried to make it work however large the distance was, he knows it’s probably for the better. even if it means he’s gonna spend the rest of his life pining after a girl he met on vacation for less than a single day, and he’ll never even know your name.
he takes a swig of his champagne and tries to put on a cheery face. this is a wedding, after all, and he can’t afford to spend all his time pouting when he’s in a beautiful city by the seaside enjoying delicious food and near perfect weather.
and then he sees you.
not really, of course, because it’s probably the champagne going to his head after chugging the majority of his glass like a frat boy at a college party. but then he blinks, and it really is you, wandering around for a second before you sit down at a table on the other side of the venue, wearing a soft blue dress that’s even prettier than the one he saw you in yesterday.
he blinks again, not fully believing that it’s you and not just the combined effect of the alcohol and his daydreams, but you’re still there when he opens his eyes again. and he knows it’s you, because he can see the faint hickies on your back and shoulders that you clearly tried to hide with makeup but couldn’t fully reach.
the chances that he’d see you again—not even that, but the chances that you’d be attending the very same wedding he was—must be one in a billion. maybe even more. yet there you are, picking at your nail and staring wistfully at your empty plate as you wait for the reception to start.
he stares for another minute, just to make sure you’re actually real, before he stands up and makes his way to the terrace at the back of the venue where the groom is standing next to a tower of cupcakes.
“gyu,” he greets him, “hey. are we allowed to switch tables?”
“i… don’t think so?” mingyu hums, a little off guard by the sudden question. “i made sure we put you next to hao, but—”
“if i give you twenty bucks, can you put me at table 8 instead?” jun’s eyes flicker with desperation, and he has to force himself not to look back over at you.
mingyu whines apologetically and hesitates, glancing at his bride a little ways away as she talks to a table full of guests. “she did all this planning, jun, i can’t just change everything now…”
“it’s not changing everything.�� jun pulls his wallet out of his pants pocket, already rifling through the bills. “i’ll make it a hundred. mingyu, please, just switch me,” he says.
the whine in jun’s voice makes him pause, and he bites his lip as he considers it. on one hand, he could have his brand new wife a little bit mad at him for a while (who’ll probably forgive him the second she gets in bed with him tonight), plus get to help his friend and get an easy hundred dollars out of it. or, on the other hand… he could not help him, and his wife would never know, and jun would probably hate him for some unknown reason even though he doesn’t think jun has a single bone in his body capable of hating anybody. the decision is easy.
mingyu takes the bills from jun’s hand and stuffs them in his pocket before anyone can notice. “go ahead,” he says, tossing his head in the direction of the table. “i don’t know what it is you want, but don’t let anybody see you.”
“thanks! i owe you!” jun grins and hugs him, letting out a noise almost like a squeal before he turns and dashes away.
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you’re barely paying attention to the reception anymore as you sit with your chin in your hands, again mentally running over all the things you need to pack and how on earth you’re going to be able to board your flight tonight and leave everything behind. the beaches, the city… and him. how are you supposed to just get on a plane and get on with your life, knowing that he’s out there somewhere in the world, and you’re never going to see him again. 
you’re trying not to sulk, but you can’t help the way your mood has been sour all morning, already filled with regrets and you haven’t even left yet. maybe you should’ve skipped the wedding altogether and spent another day in his bed, wrapped up between his sheets and lying in his arms. but then the rational part of your brain reminds you that he was also in town for a wedding, so even if he’d wanted to or even been okay with doing that, he probably had other plans anyway.
you’re still trying to figure out what to do about your hopeless situation when you hear a sound close behind you. it startles you into putting a smile on your face, preparing yourself to socialize although you really aren’t in the mood to.
“is this seat taken?” jun asks as he pulls out the chair to your left and sits down.
your brows furrow in confusion, trying to place the familiar voice, until you turn around and your jaw drops when you see who it belongs to.
you stare at him in shock, your eyes darting back and forth between his trying to figure out what to say. “you’re not joshua,” is the best you can come up with as your mouth hangs open and you whip your head around to check the list of names assigned to this table. you recognize them all, yet here he is: the nameless stranger you’ve fallen so helplessly in love with in so short an amount of time.
he smiles at your reaction, and it’s such a genuine smile that you know he’s feeling exactly the way you do right now. “i guess you’re right. i’m not.” he brushes the name card in front of him to the side and sets his own down in its place instead before he holds out his hand to shake. “it’s nice to meet you. i’m jun.”
you pause for a minute, staring at his hand. you can’t believe this is real, you can’t believe he’s real; you’d almost been able to convince yourself that the whole encounter last night was a fever dream, if you hadn’t woken up in the morning with a soreness between your legs that screamed that it definitely was not a dream.
finally you reach out and take his hand, and even in that little touch you can tell it really is him, from the way your heart picks up when you feel the familiar softness of his skin and the gentle squeeze that sends goosebumps down your arm.
“it’s nice to meet you, too.”
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nadvs · 2 months ago
Text
the act of unravelling (part one)
pairing rafe cameron x pogue! female reader
rating mature 18+
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summary you never expected you’d get tangled up with a kook, least of all, rafe cameron. one night, you make a life-altering decision to get revenge on someone you both despise. after you vow to keep what happened a secret, your relationship begins to twist into something more.
tags very dark! violence, homicide, drug and alcohol use, parental neglect, mental illness, s/a, trauma. no smut.
author’s note thank you to this anon!! this fic deviates from canon. timeline is s2 when rafe is at his most unhinged.
» masterlist
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disclaimer there is no explicit s/xual assault scene in this story, but it is referenced and the trauma that comes with surviving it is explored. it is committed by an original character. when writing this, i pulled from personal experience, so please be mindful that if you comment, do not engage in any victim-blaming as it is triggering to me and others.
·········
In a single harrowing moment, you’ve learned that there’s truth to the expression that the enemy of your enemy can be your friend.
Rafe looks all too comfortable holding a gun. The rage coursing through you is deafening, persuading you that the person he’s pointing it at deserves to die.
And then, you utter the words rising in your throat.
“Do it.”
╰┈➤ two days earlier
Your shifts at the country club are a repetitive motion of driving over the golf course’s hills, handing the island’s wealthiest people their overpriced drinks, and accepting their money with a fake smile.
The job was always a predictable bore. Until a week ago, when you started seeing a familiar face.
The moment Rafe’s eyes landed on you and he realized that one of the Pogues he revels in berating is the new cart girl, his lips twitched into a smirk.
Every time you see him, he does the same thing. He orders a beer and says here you go, sweetheart when he tips you.
It’s always a fifty. No other club member gives you nearly this much. It’s like he loves reminding you that this type of money is pocket change to him.
Every time you serve him, you subdue your glare and take the crisp bill that sits between his fingers, wondering why even though the man is an arrogant asshole, you can’t stop staring at him.
You feel weak for not hating him all the way. You can’t help that over the years of your tense, sporadic interactions, a part of you has always wondered if he feels the same pull of attraction that you do.
You have to remind yourself of who he is. A man committed to letting everyone know how much better he thinks he is because he was lucky enough to be born into money. He’s heartless. And you can’t wait for the day that you finally rid yourself of this fixation you have for him.
It’s a sunny Thursday afternoon at the end of a long shift and you’re parked by one of the paved pathways on the course, recording your last transaction in your logbook.
You hear the familiar whirring of a cart passing by. It stops. You don’t think much of it until you hear his voice.
“We’ll take two beers,” he calls from behind the steering wheel. You look up to see him. Rafe.
“I’m obviously off duty,” you reply curtly, looking between him and his friend.
“What, so you can write in your diary, but you can’t give us some drinks?” he calls.
“It’s a logbook,” you reply coldly. “It’s called having–”
You flatten your lips together, trying to control yourself.
“Having…?” he challenges. The mocking tone of his voice is what makes you snap.
“A job,” you reply. “Not everyone can live off of daddy’s money.”
Rafe huffs a laugh, a wisp of amusement flashing on his face.
“Careful, Pogue,” he says. “What’ll your boss say if he knows that’s how you’re talking to me?”
“I’m off the clock, Kook,” you say the label with the same vitriol. “I can talk however I want.”
You close your book and start up your cart before he can irritate you any more. Even though there’s something aggravatingly magnetic about him, you refuse to allow him to taunt you any longer.
·········
You meet up with your friends on the beach that evening, zoning out as the three of them chatter around you, passing a joint you brought.
You stare ahead at the soft waves under the setting sun, thinking of Rafe’s cold stare, thinking of the smirk he seems to always have etched on his face reserved especially for you, thinking of how you wish your body would catch up with your mind because how can you dislike somebody this much but also be so attracted to them?
“Who’s your plug?” JJ asks, seemingly impressed. He pulls you out of your daze as he passes you the joint. Smoke curls out of the end of it, twisting in the wind.
“That guy, Porter,” you say flatly. You take a puff, thinking back to the shaggy-haired Kook who approached you at a party on the north side of the island the other night, offering you half the price on your first buy.
He also tried to convince you to try something harder, but you told him you’re sticking to pot. You weren’t about to get hooked on coke, especially not because a drug-dealing Kook wants to take more of your money.
You continue to stare ahead, passing the joint along.
“What a trust fund kid name,” JJ laughs. “Fuckin’ Porter.”
Your friends chuckle around you, but you continue to stare ahead.
“Hard day at the office?” he says in response to your absentmindedness. You meet JJ’s gaze, shaking your head as if to dismiss your own thoughts.
“Rafe is such an asshole,” you say.
“What’d he do this time?” Pope asks. Your friends await your response, already well aware of your history with the bullshit you’ve ever had to deal with at work lately.
“He said something about ratting me out to my boss for talking back to him,” you reply. You scoff, getting mad all over again. You need to pull yourself out of this funk. “Whatever. All I do is complain about him. He’s not worth it. This is the last time you’ll ever hear me talk about him. I mean it.”
You make an effort to join in your friends’ conversations, feeling guilty that you’re so spaced out. With parents who never give you much attention at all, the guys surrounding you are your family. Your brothers. They deserve better than to hear you ramble on about Rafe.
Rafe’s eyes travel over the silhouettes sitting along the darkening shoreline when he arrives at the beach with his friends.
It’s the sound of his pick-up truck’s door shutting that gets your attention. You look over your shoulder. Then, you glance away, indifference on your face.
It pisses him off. Rafe has always craved what he can’t have. Power. Self-control. You. Every time he talks to you, you act like he’s such a bother, a sharp thorn in your side.
You get under his skin. And he’s never wanted a girl this bad. A goddamn Pogue of all people. Something about you lures him in. It makes him want to see what really lies behind the irritation that burns in your eyes every time he speaks to you.
He needs to crack your armor. And he has always loved a challenge.
As the beach populates, the division between the Kooks and the Pogues is clear, as if an invisible line is drawn in the sand. He stays on his side, you stay on yours.
When night falls, you and your friends have all smoked through the entire joint, and you’re a bit buzzed but not nearly as high as you’d like to be.
You spot Porter by the shoreline, drinking with his friends, and dust the sand off your knees when you stand up.
“I’m gonna go buy some more,” you say to your friends.
“Going into enemy territory?” JJ asks.
“It’s nothing new to me,” you laugh. “I work in enemy territory, remember?”
“You need company? Or cash?” John B asks.
“All good. My treat,” you say. “I’m loaded with tips.”
You don’t mention that a majority of the money in your pocket is from Rafe.
As you approach the boisterous group, you cross your arms and feign confidence. In reality, being around these types has always put you on edge.
Kooks give off a sense of invincibility, almost impunity, like predators at the top of the food chain, perpetually safe from harm and always on the brink of inflicting it.
You notice Rafe’s stare on you from his place in the large group and your stomach twists. Your eyes flit off of him and you wonder how it’s possible to wish someone would stay away but also so deeply crave they’d come closer.
Truthfully, within the tangled way he makes you feel, you’re kind of scared of Rafe, too. He’s reckless and unpredictable. And yet, that side of him excites you. There’s a complexity to him that has an inescapable effect on you.
“You holding?” you ask Porter once you approach him. He’s one of the few Kooks you don’t mind so much. He doesn’t have the cold air of arrogance that you’re so used to.
“It’s good shit, isn’t it?” he says with a smile. “How much you want?”
You leaf through the bills in your hand.
“Just a joint,” you say. The waves crash behind you, almost drowning your voice out. You make the exchange and push through the crowd, eager to get back to your friends.
You thought you managed to get away without any complications, but two words stop you.
“You lost?”
You turn to see Rafe, overwhelming heat rushing through you as he closes the distance between you, towering over you as the breeze brushes his hair over his forehead.
“What, ‘cause I’m on your side of the beach?” you mutter. “Grow up.”
Rafe smirks. He gets such a kick out of fucking with the Pogues. Especially you.
“Is that what you’re spending my tips on?” he asks, eyes darting down to the joint in your hand.
“Yeah,” you answer. “You can tell your father I say thanks.”
Rafe’s mouth curls into a bigger smile. When he looks at you like that, like he wants to be around you, you wonder if he secretly enjoys your company.
“How long you been buying from him?” Rafe asks.
“Why?” you say. The way you glare at him makes every muscle in his body tense. He’d be an idiot to deny how attracted he is to you. “You gonna tell my boss?”
“It was a fucking joke,” he mutters with a laugh. “You Pogues all have sticks up your asses, I swear.”
You grit your teeth. He’s clearly pleased when he riles you up like this. You don’t understand how somebody could be so spiteful.
“What do you want, Rafe?” you say.
Silence settles between you, the chattering of people on either side of the beach intertwined in the air, an overlap of worlds far apart. He reminds himself that he has something important to ask you.
“Did he offer you anything else?” he says. You’ve already heard the gossip about how Rafe’s selling coke now. He must want to offer you a better price.
“I’m not interested in whatever you’re selling,” you reply. Rafe scoffs, his tongue jutting under his cheek as he takes you in.
“I’d never sell to you.”
You huff a flat chuckle. You’re tired of his juvenile obsession with the class divide that sits between you.
“So, I’m good enough to serve you drinks, but not good enough to buy your drugs?”
You feel a sick sense of satisfaction when his face hardens with anger. For a second, you worry that you’re just as spiteful as he is, that you’re no better than him.
Rafe scoffs. He’s seen what coke does to people. To himself. He refuses to see it happen to you. But of course you expect the worst of him. Like everyone else does.
“Did he offer you anything else or not?” Rafe repeats with a note of irritation.
“Why?” you sputter.
“I need to know if he’s trying to steal from me.”
Rafe refuses to be in competition with anyone. Other Kooks can sell weed all they want, but coke is his territory, and if he has to claim his territory, so be it. He’s heard rumblings that Porter’s expanded his offerings now. And Rafe isn’t going to let him fuck him over.
“He did,” you finally answer. “Coke. He said it’s the purest on the island.”
He only nods tersely, lips twisting in frustration, before he turns around and storms away from you. So, that’s all he wanted from you. Information.
“You’re welcome,” you half-shout. Curiosity pulls you in as your eyes follow him into the crowd. Sure enough, Rafe pushes Porter to the ground, shouting indistinctly, earning jeers from the crowd.
It’s typical. Nearly every time you see Rafe out socially, he’s yelling and fighting someone. You walk back to your friends, hoping you can shake off the feeling he left you with.
·········
The only thing getting you through your shift the next day is that tomorrow is a holiday. The night of the Fourth of July is an escape from the stresses of your life, an excuse to get wasted with your friends under the fireworks and let yourself drift off into oblivion.
After you clock out, you’re pacing through the country club’s bar when you hear your name called from the patio. You look to see Porter sitting at a table with a couple of friends, his smile wide.
“Didn’t know you worked here,” he says when you approach.
“Yeah, I’m a server on the course,” you explain. You almost expect him to ignorantly ask for a drink, but have to remind yourself that he’s not like Rafe.
“How is it?”
“It’s fine.”
“Come on, we won’t tell,” Porter chuckles. “You hate it, don’t you?”
“Only sometimes,” you reply with a laugh. “Depends on the day. And on the person I’m dealing with.”
“Fair enough,” he says. He pulls out his phone, punching in the password. “I meant to tell you last night that you should have my number. You know, for when you need to stock up.”
You take his phone, cluing in that he’s making himself more accessible to you for the next time you need to buy from him. As you text yourself his name, one of the men at the table motions to Porter.
“Bro,” his friend says, gaze trained ahead. Porter looks past you to the bar and shakes his head in disbelief.
“Can’t escape him,” he sighs.
You follow his eyeline to spot Rafe at the bar with a friend, dark liquor sitting in the glass he’s holding.
“Not a fan?” you ask.
“Is anyone?” Porter laughs. “He’s a nutcase.”
“Don’t let him hear you,” his friend murmurs.
“Yeah, he’ll kill you,” the other guy laughs.
“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Porter replies.
Your eyes linger on Rafe a second longer than they need to. Your curiosity for why he’s the way he is is like a flame that won’t burn out. He has everything he could possibly want. Why is he so mean?
“Yeah,” is all you can say. You turn around again and give Porter his phone back.
“Oh, there’s a party at my beach house tomorrow night. My neighbor does this crazy fireworks thing every year,” he tells you. “I’ll text you the address.”
You nod appreciatively, glad that at least some of the rich people you deal with don’t buy into the idea that you’re beneath them.
·········
It’s nearing nine p.m. when you make it to the beach house the next night. The guys are rambling on behind you as you step inside the massive, humid house, filled with chattering people and loud music.
“Where are your car keys?” Pope asks.
“Right here,” JJ says, jingling them in front of his face. “Do I need to show you every five minutes?”
“I’ll just take them,” Pope says, grabbing them and stuffing them in his pocket. “You can’t be trusted.”
“It was one time,” JJ says. You laugh as you think of last weekend when he’d lost his car keys at a party in the Cut.
“Yeah, and we had to search the sand for, like half an hour,” you remind him.
“You know what I’m not hearing?” JJ says. “A thank you for driving all the time.”
“Remind me, who actually drove last time?” John B asks. “And who was hurling in the backseat?”
JJ scratches the back of his neck.
“I’m a man of honor,” he says. “I’m not not going to chug when I’m told to chug.” His eyes fix on something across the room. “Speaking of…”
He heads towards the keg and you and Pope share a disapproving shake of your heads. You follow your friends, grabbing a solo cup and sipping on beer.
A few minutes later, your phone buzzes with a text from Porter: You here? Want to buy?
You’ve already smoked through the joint you bought two nights ago and quickly reply: yes.
He texts: come upstairs.
“I’ll be right back,” you quickly tell your friends before you push through the crowd.
You duck under the string tied across the bottom of staircase, a sign that warns partygoers that it’s off limits hanging in the middle. One door is open in the upstairs hallway. You see Porter sitting on a bed, rolling a joint on a book that’s sitting in his lap.
“Hey. Got a fresh one for you,” he says.
“Thanks.” You dig into your pocket. “Same price?”
“Sure.” He cocks his head. “It’ll take a while. You can come in and chill.”
You sit at his desk close to the door, talking as he packs the thin white paper.
When he stands up, instead of giving the joint to you, he darts across the room abruptly. Your brows knit in confusion when he shuts the door, the loud music reduced to muffles now.
“What are you doing?” you ask, fear twisting your heart in a vise.
He must have read things wrong.
You assume he’ll stop when you tell him no.
He doesn’t.
·········
You fall to the hard floor. You grip the edge of the bed, hardly any light spilling into the room from the hallway as you blink rapidly to gain your bearings.
A loud slam was what woke you up. You don’t remember falling asleep. You don’t even know where you are.
Two shadowy figures stand on the other side of the room. One roughly pushes the other to the floor. You stay still, peeking over the bed. Your body is trembling with pain and you don’t know why.
“Do you think I’m joking?” a man spits.
You know that voice. It’s Rafe.
“Dude, relax,“ the man on the floor says.
You might be sick. It’s Porter on the floor, whimpering like an idiot. You remember why your body is aching now.
He hurt you. He hurt you and you retreated into your mind and you fell unconscious. A cold swirl of anger and disgust and sadness twists your stomach into a knot.
“I told you to stay out of my fucking way,” Rafe shouts. “Where’s your stash?”
“In the desk,” Porter says quietly. “Just take it. I’ll stick to selling weed, okay? You have my word.”
You watch from the floor, Rafe’s broad figure leaning to pull open drawers and shove items off the desk, objects clattering on the floor in the dark. They don’t know you’re here.
Consciousness slowly grips you. Rafe confronted him about selling coke. He told him to stop. And Porter didn’t listen.
Your eyes flood with hot tears. He didn’t listen to you, either.
You just want to leave. To get out of this horrifying room. To figure out how to put yourself back together after surviving one of the worst ways a person can break another.
Loud fireworks abruptly crack in the sky, startling you, shining light in through the window. And that’s when you see it. Porter is by the other side of the bed, still on the floor, and in his raised hand, something is gleaming.
A gun.
“Rafe!” Your throat is dry, sore from the way you’d screamed.
He suddenly turns towards you, confusedly finding your face across the room. Then, his gaze snaps down at Porter. He notices the gun. And he lunges.
You stand on shaky knees as you watch Rafe land vicious punches, every blow making Porter groan.
“Gonna pull a gun when my back is turned, pussy?” Rafe bellows. “Really?”
You round the bed, staring in horror, your mind still in fragmented shambles. You’d told Porter to stop so many times and every strike of Rafe’s knuckles against his jaw gives you a jolt of satisfaction, a desire for him to suffer more.
He was never a nice guy. He’s just like all of them. A predator.
Rafe scrambles to his feet, heavily breathing as fireworks continue their pops and sizzles over the beach.
The gun is in his hand now. His heart is thrumming, his blood boiling hot. He could’ve died. If you didn’t call his name, he could’ve lost his life.
Rafe’s steady and firm, holding the weapon still, a sharp contrast to how hard you’re shaking.
“Do it,” you say. Rafe’s eyes finds yours, his lips parted, blood splattered on his face. It’s not his. Porter didn’t land any punches. Rafe beat him that badly.
“What?” Porter cries. “Are you insane?”
He’s staring up at both of you through wide eyes as the barrel of the gun remains directed at him. You imagine how terrifying you must look to him, standing over him in the dim room with his pathetic life in your hands.
“Me?” you mutter. Hatred courses through your veins when you glare at him as he lies on his side, bloodied and weak.
The power has shifted into your hands. He was the one looking down at you earlier, hurting you. And now that your body is yours again, you don’t hesitate to kick him in the stomach.
He grunts when you make contact, his body curling forward.
Rafe watches, rendered speechless. He thought he’d seen you angry before. He hasn’t. This is new. This is pure rage. This is a level of wrath he didn’t know you were capable of.
Even through the darkness, Rafe can see that your eyes are shiny with tears when you turn your head to look at him again.
“What the fuck are you waiting for?” you snap, your words dripping with agony and rage. “If you don’t do it, I will.”
Rafe is powerless against the angry, malevolent instinct that’s guided him all his life. He doesn’t think.
The blow of the gun cuts through the air.
Your breath catches.
And he’s just a body. Lifeless on the floor. Gone.
You look up at Rafe. Your chests are heaving, broken and shaky breaths spilling out of your mouths. The colors lighting up the night sky tint your tear-streaked face. He’s never seen agony personified. He has now.
You glance down at Porter again. His mouth is agape. His eyes are shut. Forever. Forever.
“Oh, my God,” you whimper. Hot tears fall over your cheeks so quickly that you fear they’ll never stop. The adrenaline escapes you like water spinning down a drain, replaced with a bottomless dread.
Rafe realizes he’s still pointing the gun. He lowers his arm, his palm sweating against the grip. He had to do it. He had to. He didn’t know that taking a life would feel this good. He doesn’t feel a shred of regret or remorse. For once, he has real power.
But then he watches the way you sink down to the floor.
“What did we…” you whisper, words rushed. “What did we do? Rafe, what did we do?”
There’s a dead body next to you. Cold permeates your bones. You know it’s the type of chill that will never leave you.
Rafe kneels in front of you. The gun hits the floor with a heavy thump. The air smells like gunpowder, fried and smoking. He’s trying to meet your eyes, but your gaze is skittering around as you sit, crumpled and trembling.
“Hey,” he says clearly.
You’re staring at the ground, your breaths shallow.
“Hey,” he repeats louder. Finally, you look at him. “It was self-defense.”
You nod weakly, processing how within a second, you’ve tangled yourselves together into a knot that you can never unravel. Rafe pulled the trigger, but you told him to. And you’re sure you would’ve done it yourself if Rafe didn’t. You’re murderers.
Rafe’s hand is an inch away from you, almost putting it on yours, almost touching someone with tenderness instead of anger for once. You saved his life. You loathe him, but you saved his life, reacting in a split second.
“Why were you even up here?” he asks.
“Just be glad I was,” you say, hoping it’s enough to satisfy him.
“Yeah. Yeah,” he mumbles. “Thank you.”
If you weren’t so shellshocked, you’d laugh. You never expected Rafe to have manners, and you never expected that if he did, it’d be a show of gratitude for helping him kill somebody.
Nausea pools in your gut at the reminder of why you were so angry. Did Porter plan it? Did he always have his sights set on you, like a vulture circling the sky, ready to attack?
What happened earlier tonight flashes through your mind. He deserved to die. He did something unforgivable. He said things about how girls always do this, they always tease but never give it up.
You didn’t just save Rafe. You saved all the girls who were fated to cross that monster’s path. You pushed a soul to its death, but it was one not worthy of life.
Rafe stares at you as you blink rapidly, your mind clearly racing.
“He rip you off or something?” he asks, at a loss for why you’d encourage him to pull the trigger.
Of course Rafe thinks it’s about money. That’s all that matters to him.
“Yeah,” you lie, voice cracking. You can’t tell him. You can’t relive it. Especially with someone who you know is cold-blooded. Someone who might blame you for coming up to this bedroom in the first place.
Tease. Porter called you a tease while you pleaded for him to stop. You drop your head in your hands, chest stuttering with your breathy cries, remembering how he’d hurt you.
Rafe stares at you, confused, wondering how you could be so angry and vengeful and ruthless, just to regret it a second after the bullet left the chamber.
“We had to do it,” he states.
“I know,” you tell him. You wipe your cheeks with your palms, well aware that he could never understand why you’re really crying. “We’ll just tell the truth.”
He shakes his head at you.
“Tell who the truth?” Rafe mutters, his stare hard. “We’re not telling anybody.”
Your breath shakes. He wants to hide this. To try to get away with it.
“What if someone heard the gunshot?” you murmur.
“Everyone’s outside,” he says. “And those stupid fireworks are so fucking loud. Nobody could tell the difference.”
You wipe your face again, considering his words. Your phone is buzzing in your pocket. Someone’s calling you. Surely one of your friends. Why didn’t you just tell them where you were going? Why didn’t you just have one of them come upstairs with you?
Impatience quickly rises in Rafe while you stay silent.
“I almost knocked him out the other night,” he says. “In front of everyone. You think backing me up would be enough for anyone to believe I was protecting myself?”
You chew on your bottom lip anxiously. Rafe has a reputation for being violent. Porter put up a front that he was a nice guy. His friends even said right in front of you that Rafe would kill him. Who’d believe that Porter actually pointed a gun first?
Besides, if you vouched for him, who’s to say they’d trust you? They could spin it and say Rafe paid off a Pogue to lie for him.
“And then the cops would dig and find out it was over coke,” Rafe sputters. “It’d be a fucking mess. We’re not telling anybody.”
He’s right. Confessing wouldn’t do you any good, either. It could go sideways and you could never afford a good lawyer.
Nobody deserves to be punished for taking down the evil, lifeless man lying on the floor. Not you. Not even Rafe. You won’t take the risk.
You gaze into Rafe’s eyes, finding comfort in the striking blue hue for the first time, feeling a newfound sense of loyalty to him.
He gave you vengeance in a world that would never punish the man who hurt you. You’re in this together.
“Okay,” you whisper. “What do we do now?”
“We get rid of the body.”
next >
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rafesbabyg1rl · 1 month ago
Note
You were asking for reqs for rafe x reader, if you are taking them, I have one in mind. In which rafe is extremely possesive of bsf reader, and gets easily jealous. One day she was at a kook party, and a guy approached her and they started to talk and that sh*t went down, rafe got aggressive and almost beat the guy to a pulp. Reader is like a shy cute innocent, bimbo type. And smut after the scene if you write it.
Summary: Innocent!reader X possessive!Rafe, bestfriend!reader X bestfriend!Rafe. Summary is basically the anonymous ask!
Warnings: Rafe is possessive of reader. Established friendship. Rafe almost beats a guy to death. Mentions of drugs (no actual drug use), alcohol consumption. Lots of smut; p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, loss of virginity, SLIGHT degradation (some praise too). The classic 'what are we' at the end. The L word.
Word Count: 6.1k
Author Note: Hello Beauties! Thank you for the support and kindness you've all shown me. And thank you for this ask, I really enjoyed writing it. I hope I did your idea justice. Sorry that this is a bit long, it just sort of happened. Also, I hope you all enjoyed the holiday yesterday, well those that celebrate. I'm hoping to finish part four of The Watcher soon so I can get it out, life has just been so exhausting. Anyways, please enjoy and feel free to leave feedback! I love you all, thank you so much!! Stay freaky y'all.
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Your best friend, Rafe, had asked you to go to a party with him. Well, more like he had told you to go. Although it’s not like you’d ever miss the opportunity to party with your best friend. So, here you are; walking around the side of Topper’s house, looking for Rafe. You two didn’t come together, he got here before you. He knows you don’t love being around his ‘friends’ and their various illegal substances, even though he says he’s clean, he likes to have time with them before you get there. 
You round a corner, now entering the Thorton’s backyard. You look for Rafe as you work your way through the loud and busy crowd. You hear a friend call your name, you turn your head to her, and she waves you over. You approach her and a few others with a smile. You greet them.
The other girls chat amongst themselves as your friend speaks up, shouting over the music. “Hey!” She’s over enthusiastic per regular, probably a bit drunk too.
“Hey!” You shout back. 
She begins, “Oh my god! I have to tell you something. Guess who I saw—”. Usually, you’d want to hear all the gossip she’s about to ramble to you, but not right now. “Do you know where Rafe is?” You shout over her, cutting her off.
“What?” She asks, stepping closer to you so she can hear you.
“Do you know—” You’re suddenly interrupted by some guy standing beside you. You turn to face him.
“Hey.” He says, his tone confident. A cocky grin spreads across his face.
“Hi.” You smile politely, “Do I know you?”. You say hurriedly before turning back to your friend. She looks between you and the guy a few times before facing you and giving you a knowing smirk. You know what that look means and before you can say anything, she walks away. Leaving you alone with him. You roll your eyes at her playfully, although you really are annoyed that she didn’t tell you where Rafe is. 
Slowly, you turn your head back to the guy, flashing him another fake smile. He grins again before speaking, “No…no you don’t.” He pauses, stepping a bit closer to you so he doesn’t have to shout over the music as loud. “I’m Devin.”
Your fake smile is getting awkward, but you don’t know what to say. You don’t care about talking to him right now. “Nice to meet you, Devin. B-but I need to–”
Devin cuts you off, “Let me get you a drink.” 
You laugh shyly, “Oh...I-I’m okay, I actually have to…”
“Let me just get you a drink, it’ll only take a second.” He moves closer to rest his hand on your lower back for a slight moment, to get you to turn toward the drinks. 
Rafe was on the back patio sitting on one of the couches when someone had mentioned to him that they saw you. He went to go and find you, which is when he spotted you laughing with some guy, who moments later put his hand on you. Rafe’s already had a few drinks tonight, so his judgment clouded even more than usual, especially when it comes to you. 
As you walk towards the drinks, Devin’s hand falls and he follows close behind you. 
After a moment, you hear a mix of gasps and ‘ooohh’s’ from everyone. You turn to look behind you where everyone seems to be gathering. You find that Devin isn’t behind you anymore.
Immediately your eyes land on some commotion in the crowd, you squeeze through the ring of people forming around the area. Shit. You run forwards, pausing just before the fight. 
Devin is flat on his back, Rafe straddling him. Rafe has Devin’s shirt clenched in one fist, holding his head off the ground as he repeatedly drives his other fist into Devin’s face. 
“Rafe!” You shout. Keeping your distance, not wanting to get too close while he’s out of control. You’ve seen how he can get. In the years that you two have been friends, you’ve had to calm him down from countless fights, since nobody else can ever seem to do it. But, when nobody else steps in to try and stop the fight, you step closer, knowing something has to be done. “Rafe, stop! Stop it!” You scream. 
Devin’s completely unconscious, his nose is probably broken, but you can’t really tell; his face is a swollen mess of blood and bruises. You can’t stand here and watch anymore, and nobody seems to be listening to your cries for help. Because nobody is stupid enough to get in Rafe’s way while he’s like this. You step behind Rafe, putting your hands on his shoulders. You try to pull him back all the while trying not to get punched.
“Rafe! Look at me! Look at me, Ray!” Rafe turns his head to the side, momentarily stopping his actions, letting Devin’s head rest on the floor. You put a hand up to cup his cheek. Speaking quietly now as you plead to him. “Rafe…c’mon, that’s good, h-he’s had enough…”. Your tears slow, but your breath is still erratic as you look at the unconscious man. 
Rafe turns back to the guy, your hand falling from his face. Rafe pulls Devin’s head up, like he was going to punch him again. Instead, he lets go, letting the boy's head hit the floor. Rafe stands up without a word and grabs you by your wrist, tugging you away. 
Before you know it, you’re being shoved into your best friend's truck. His random mumbles don’t make much sense to you, talking about ‘he got what he deserved…Should’ve fuckin’ killed him…yeah, should’ve fucking killed him for that. Touchin’ what’s mine…’
When you get to Tannyhill, Rafe wastes no time pulling you into his room. You sit on his bed stiffly, waiting silently as he paces the room.
“Rafe?” You call out softly. “You okay? What happened back there? What was that?”
“He touched you.” Rafe states. His tone is low and rough, sending a chill down your spine. Even after all the years you’ve been his best friend, you still never know how to act when he’s like this. 
“Barely. He barely touched me.”
Rafe completely disregards what you say, shaking his head and blowing out a jagged breath as he continues to pace across his room, a bit slower now. “Why was he even talking to you? You were supposed to be with me. I told you to go to the party, not him.” 
You take your chance to get a word in as he spews out angry nonsense. “I was looking for you and he started talking, ‘wanted to get me a drink. I was just being nice; I didn’t know who he was. I didn’t even want to talk to him, I was looking for you, Rafe. I don’t even see why that matters–”.
He pauses, looking over at you. His movements are sharp as he strides over to you. “Don’t see why it matters…?” He repeats your words, more for himself than to you. “It matters because you’re mine.” His words are sharp, definitely directed to you that time.
“Rafe…you almost killed him…because of me? I don’t get it Rafe; I don’t nearly kill all the girls you fuck.” You state.
Rafe lets out a breathy chuckle before speaking. “Still don’t get it, huh?” Rafe laughs. “God you’re so innocent. So naive.” He pauses, stepping closer until he’s standing in front of you, looking down at you as you sit on his bed. “I need you, y/n. I can’t…god, I can’t even fuck anyone else anymore without thinking about you. I can’t let anyone else have you, got that? You understand now?” He asks harshly as he runs a rough hand through your hair. 
You try to swallow the lump in your throat. You look up and nod weakly, causing Rafe to flash a devilish grin. “Yeah?” He asks quietly, his voice coming out low. 
“Yeah…” You mumble back brainlessly, too shocked by your best friend's confession. You had always thought Rafe saw you purely as a friend. Although thinking back, you don’t know how you ever thought that with how he acts, especially lately. 
No time is wasted as Rafe quickly leans down, capturing your lips with his. The first kiss is hesitant, and you don’t kiss back. But when he pulls away to look at you, trying to gauge your emotion, you lean in. Your best friend takes that as a sign to continue. His lips quickly find yours again. When he feels you start to kiss back, he escalates things. Kissing you more roughly now, acting as though he’s a starved man and your lips are his meal.
His hand moves from the back of your head to your throat, lightly squeezing. At first you don’t even realize, too distracted by the feeling of his tongue entering your mouth. But when Rafe squeezes your neck even tighter, you move your hands to reach up and wrap around his wrist in an attempt to pull it away. Your mouth still occupied by his, the kiss is too fucking good to break. It feels like everything you didn’t know you needed. He’s giving you what nobody else could, because only he knows exactly what you need and exactly how to give it to you. Your lack of breath reminds you of your situation and you pull away from the kiss momentarily.
Rafe’s grip loosens as he pulls his head back so he can look into your eyes. “Tell me you want this.” He mumbles breathlessly. 
You search his eyes as you catch your breath. Nodding, you finally speak up. “I want this.” You say definitively.
Not even half a second later, Rafe’s body crashes down onto you, pushing you down so that you’re laying on his bed. Rafe has one arm beside your head, holding himself up as his other remains on your neck. He hovers over you, one knee pressed between your thighs. Rafe leans down, his lips attaching to your neck, kissing and sucking frantically at your skin. He’s been waiting so, so long for this. 
His lips find your ear, softly biting at it before whispering. “Let me take care of you, baby. You want that, hm?”. While waiting for your response, his free hand traces down the side of your body until it reaches the hem of your skirt. He moves his face to the other side of your head, giving some attention to your other ear. “Need your best friend to help you feel good…give you what you need, yeah?” His hand slips under your skirt, slowly gliding up your inner thigh, sending shivers through your whole body.
“Yes–” A moan escapes your lips, interrupting you. Your eyes meet his before you continue. “Please Rafey…need you…”
His lips meet yours at the same time his hand meets your clothed cunt. He kisses you sloppily, exploring every part of your mouth with his tongue. Your hands come up to rest on his chest, your touch sending shocks through him. He rubs you through your panties. He can feel as you grow more needy, the wet spot on your panties getting larger. 
He can’t believe this is actually happening. He’s wanted to do this to you for so long; he’s dreamt of this moment happening in almost every way possible, but this…he never could’ve imagined this feeling. “Fuck…you’re so wet f’me already.”
“Ray…please…” You can’t help but rut your panty-clad cunt against his hand, searching for friction. Usually you’re never this bold, but you’re comfortable with him. You always have been, he is your best friend after all. You just pray that he understands what you need. 
Except Rafe doesn’t respond in the way you had hoped for. No, instead he pulls his hand out from under your skirt, eliciting a whine from you. He presses a genuine, wet kiss against your parted lips before moving down your body. Rafe slides down, kneeling onto the floor in front of the bed. He grabs you by the back of your knees and tugs you down towards him until your ass is at the edge of the bed. Without breaking eye contact, he swiftly removes your skirt. He spreads your legs, making them bend so your heels are on the edge of the bed. Eagerly, he presses wet, sloppy kisses up your inner thighs, his eyes trained up on you.
The sight of him like this between your thighs, doing exactly what you need…it drives you crazy. You lean your head back, letting out a moan as Rafe mouths at your entrance through the fabric your panties.
It’s not long before he’s peeling back your panties as well, sliding them off of you completely. Your legs threaten to close from insecurity, but your best friend is sure to hold them open.
“Fuck…this pussy’s even prettier than I imagined, baby. Soaked…just for me.” Rafe leans in, his mouth hovering just above your core. He silently asks for permission.
Being your best friend, Rafe knows that you’ve never done this before. No guy had ever wanted to date you while Rafe’s your best friend, they could see that you’re his, even if you couldn’t. 
His breath is hot on your bare center, he watches as you squirm and clench around nothing. Eagerly you nod, giving him permission. And within seconds his mouth is on you.
At first, he’s slow; gentle as his eyes continue to meet yours. He licks a warm stripe up your center, briefly pulling back to watch your reaction. Your head falls back, your mouth parted, and eyes closed as you experience this new sensation that your best friend is so generously giving you.
Rafe begins to lick and suck at you. His tongue circles your clit as he looks up, knowing you’d like it. A moan slips past your lips as your hand flies to the back of his head, the other gripping onto the sheets beside you. 
“Nnnghh…f-fuck, Ray…” You whine as his tongue fucks you relentlessly. He only mumbles against you in response, sending vibrations through your core. This felt even better than you had ever thought it would. When you heard people talk about sex, you didn’t think it could actually be this good. Though maybe that just has to do with the fact that Rafe’s your best friend, and he knows exactly what you need.
“Yeah?” One of his hands leaves your leg and moves to grope your tits through your clothes. “You like this, huh? You’re just a slut for your best friend, hm? Letting me have you like this…”
“N-need you…” You mutter, grieving the loss of his tongue on you. He stares at you with a devilish glint in his eyes. 
“I know, baby. I know.” Rafe’s mouth continues to work on you. His tongue gathers some slick from your entrance and brings it up to your clit, circling it with his tongue a few times before repeating the process. 
The feeling in your lower stomach is starting to build. It’s getting hard for you to sit still for him. It’s even harder for you to stay quiet. A plethora of moans escape you as Rafe’s mouth stays busy between your thighs. Your hand holds his head down, your other grips the sheets underneath you. 
“Rafe…please. S’too much, I can’t—” You whine. 
“Ah ah ah…stop running, baby. I got you. I got you.” Rafe’s grip on your thighs tightens, keeping you in place. “God,” He mutters breathlessly. “You taste…you taste so fuckin’ good. Hiding this from me all that time, hm?” He leans back down and continues his ministrations on you.
Your toes start to curl, the band in your stomach threatening to snap. Suddenly he stops and before you get the chance to look down to see why, one of his fingers is prodding at your entrance. “Gotta stretch this pretty little pussy out, yeah? Don’t wanna hurt you.”
You nod, allowing one of his thick, long digits to slowly slide into you. You almost scream when he starts to move it, his mouth working on you at the same time. Rafe adds another finger, now thrusting two in and out of you. 
“Fuck baby, you’re gonna squeeze my cock so good. Jus’ gotta get you used to this, hm? You gonna let your best friend be the first to fuck you?” Rafe asks. You nod in response, agreeing to his words. Rafe’s fingers spread apart inside you, stretching your hole, preparing you for his cock. His tongue pauses again as he looks up at you and correct his previous statement. “The only one to fuck you.” Rafe puts his head back between your thighs, his fingers fucking you mercilessly as his tongue sucks at your bud. 
You nod again, followed by a whine. “F-fuck…Ray. I-I think I’m gonna…”
“Yeah? You gonna cum for me, baby? Hm?” 
“Mhmm…yes, fuckk–” You respond, your fingers fighting to grasp onto the little hair he has. Your thighs begin to squeeze around him, causing him to pull his head up against the force of your hand on him. 
“Just a little more, baby. You can take it. I know you can. You gonna let me help you finish? You wanna cum?”
“Yes! Yes! Please Rafey…please let me cum.” Your begging makes him chuckle briefly before going back down on you. His tongue moves with precision, working on you with a purpose; to make you cum. 
Without warning, the band in your stomach snaps. You scream out his name as his tongue circles your sensitive bud and his fingers pump in and out of you slowly. Your best friend continues to work you through your first real orgasm. You’ve never felt anything like this. Why the hell did you wait so long to do this with him?
“God…baby. You’re so fuckin’ perfect. You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear those pretty sounds.” Rafe carefully slides his fingers out of you, making you clench around nothing at the loss of him. He gets up from his knees, standing over you again. Rafe’s face glistens with your slick. His hand moves up to brush your hair back while he brings his free hand up to your mouth. “Open.” He orders. You oblige and he pushes two digits into your mouth. “Taste that? Taste how fuckin’ good you taste?” He pulls his fingers back, immediately moving down to kiss you. You can taste yourself on his lips. Rafe climbs on top of you, his mouth finding the sweet spot behind your ear. He whispers, “You okay?”
“Mhm…better than okay.” You reassure him. Your legs are still shaking with the aftershock of your orgasm. 
“Good.” He mumbles against your skin. “‘Cause I’m not even close to done with you, baby. We’re just getting started.” He doesn’t wait before he’s pulling off your shirt, kissing down your chest. Soon after, he unclasps your bra with one hand, pulling it off of you and tossing it onto the floor somewhere. 
His lips are vicious, attaching to any and every bit of your skin. His hands gently cup your breasts, his mouth finding and attaching to one of your nipples. His eyes stay trained up on your face, he likes seeing how you react to his touch. He pulls back, straddling your lap. Your hand shoots out to grab the hem of his shirt, trying to tug it upwards. He smirks and quickly does it himself, tossing it aside. He watches you like prey as your eyes skim over his bare chest. 
It’s not like you haven’t seen him shirtless before, you have, many times. But no matter how many times you see him like this, you’ll never get used to it. You’ve never seen him in this way though. It’s different, more intimate. You’ve never shared this kind of intimacy with anybody before. And you’re glad you’re doing it with your best friend, whom you’re comfortable with. 
The low light of his bedside lamps reflecting off of his toned skin, damp with sweat. You let out a slow breath as you take in the sight. “Fuck.” You mutter. 
Rafe leans down, kissing and nipping at your earlobe. He whispers, “Like what you see?” He laughs. 
You nod your head eagerly. “Mhmm…”
“Use your words baby, you’re a big girl, aren’t you?” 
“I…y-yes.” You whine as you wriggle underneath him, trying to squeeze your thighs shut in search of some much-needed friction.
Rafe knows what you need. He knows that you’re ready now; ready to give him everything, let him take your innocence, your virtue. He uses one hand to prop himself up as the other works at his belt. Once you realize what he’s doing, you try to help him out, eagerly unbuckling his belt as he kisses you passionately, like he’s never kissed anyone else before you; like you’re the only girl on this fucking planet. 
Once his belt is off, you work at his pants. He leans up so he can tug them off, throwing them aside with the rest of the discarded clothes. All that’s left between the two of you now is the thin fabric of his boxers. You can feel his hardened form pressing into your leg as he kisses you, practically devouring you. Without thinking about it, you find your hand tugging at the waistband of his boxers. You beg. “Please”, your lips whisper into his ear as he bites at your neck. “Rafey…”
He leans back again, this time getting off of you and standing at the side of the bed and in front of you. You can’t help but touch yourself as Rafe frees himself from the constraint of his boxers. You watch as his hard cock springs up, hitting his stomach when it’s finally freed. He smirks, leaning down to remove your hand from yourself. 
“I got you, baby. I got you. I’ll take care of you.” He mumbles, moving his hand over your core again. His strong fingers circle your clit. Your breath hitches as you watch him touch you, his other hand holding the base of his cock.
“Rafe?” You manage to ask through your cries. 
“Hm? What is it?” Rafe says your name softly, encouraging you to continue. 
“Will it hurt?” You’ve heard that the first time can be uncomfortable. And judging by Rafe’s size, this was going to be more than just uncomfortable. But that doesn’t mean you’re going to back out of the situation, you need this. You need him.
Your best friend’s expression becomes more serious as he looks at you. His hand comes up from your core to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering. “It might, baby. It might be a little uncomfortable for a moment, but I’ll do my best to make it feel good, yeah? I’ll go slow. And if you don’t like it I want you to tell me. You’re okay, baby. It’s just me, your best friend. I’m gonna take care of you. M’kay?” You nod in response, his eyes darting between your eyes to get a sense of what you’re thinking. Rafe clicks his tongue. “Ah, ah. Use your words, pretty girl.” His hand reaches out for your chin, tilting your face up towards him. 
“Please Ray…”
“Please what?”
“Fuck me…” The words sound so vulgar coming from your sweet, innocent mouth. He’s never known you to speak this way, but he’s not against it. He pumps his fist over his cock a few times, his head leaning back as he lets out a groan. “Please Rafe…I-I need you in me…”
Your words snap him out of his amazement. “Atta girl.” He replies. You can feel his tip gently rub against your slippery entrance. Your warm juices on his cock feel better than anything he’s ever experienced. You’re like a drug to him. A drug that he can’t get enough of. 
He pulls back before you can get used to the feeling of him. He leans over you, reaching into his dresser drawer. When he moves back over you, you see the shiny square wrapper in his hand.
You place your hands over his as he tries to open the condom. “No…”
His head snaps up at you. “No…? No what?” He asks, confused. “You don’t want to do this?”
“No…Rafe, I-I want this. I just…I want to feel you. No…no condom.” You explain.
“Fuck, y/n. Are you sure?” Rafe’s disbelief and shock is very apparent in his tone. 
“Yes, I’m sure. I’m on the pill.” You confirm.
“God, how much more perfect can you fuckin’ get?” He chuckles, making you huff out a quick laugh. 
Soon his lips are back on yours as he uses his hand to guide his glistening, pink tip back to your puffy cunt. Slowly, he pushes into you, just so that the very tip of his cock is inside of you. He looks up to your face, pending your reaction. 
“F-fuck…Rafe.” Your hands move to his hips, pushing him further inside. Rafe gives in, pushing another inch into you. “Mnghh, fuck…Rafe.” Rafe settles there for a moment before giving you another inch or two. Each time he moves, he looks to make sure you’re still enjoying it, giving you a minute to adjust each time. When he finally bottoms out, you feel so…full. The pain is there, but it doesn’t last long, fading into a light discomfort as your soft walls mold to his shape. You involuntarily squeeze around him.
“Shiiiitt, baby…Squeezin’ me so tight.” He pauses to kiss you, his lips soon finding that soft spot behind your ear that makes you shiver. “M’gonna move now, alright?”
“Mhm…please…” You whine. You hook your arms under his, bringing your palms up to grip onto his back. Rafe continues to kiss all over your neck and chest as he slowly pulls out of you, until only the tip is left inside. Without warning, he pushes into you a bit quicker this time, with a bit more force than before. But you’re not complaining. You cry his name out, your nails digging into his shoulders. He begins to move at a slow, steady pace as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. “F-fuck…” You yelp, gripping onto him even harder.
“Fuck, baby…your nails, they hurt.” He mumbles amusedly into your ear as he nips at it. Immediately your grip loosens. You feel terrible but can’t manage to muster up an apology since you can’t think clearly with how his cock is repeatedly kissing your cervix with each thrust. 
“Faster.” You beg, pressing your forehead into his arm. He listens cautiously, carefully picking up the face. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder. The new position allows him to hit an even deeper spot inside of you. When his digits start to circle your clit you almost let out a scream, making him chuckle. 
“Such a fuckin’ whore for me, hm?” He laughs as he fucks you senseless.
“Fuck…Rafey, no, I…I can’t. Can’t take it.” You moan, throwing your head back as your eyes squeeze shut. 
“You can and you will.” He speaks emotionlessly, overtaken by pleasure. Rafe’s hand moves from you clit up to your throat again, he applies a bit of pressure. Your hands leave his back and wrap around his wrist. Your eyes stay shut as your face contorts into that of pure bliss. His thumb slides into your mouth and you suck and bite at it, trying to distract yourself from the overwhelming feeling of him fucking you. You don’t see how you can ever stop; this feeling is…unlike anything else you’ve felt before. “You got this baby. M’almost there. You can let go, baby. Just let go f’me.”
Sooner than later you feel the newly familiar feeling of pressure building in your lower stomach. When it snaps, your body tenses up, a wave of moans escape your mouth as the band snaps and pleasure washes over you. Rafe continues to fuck you slowly, his movements becoming more sporadic than strategic.
“Fuck, where do you want it?”
“My pussy, please Rafey…fill me up?” You ask, eyes wide with tears as you look up at him. “Please?”
“Shit, you sure?” Rafe groans, barely able to hold on any longer.
“Y-yes...I’m sure.” Only seconds later you can feel his warm seed spurting out inside of you. Your gummy walls soaking him in as they squeeze around him, milking him for all that he’s got.
“Fuckk y/n. Do that again.” As he thrusts into you without any specific rhythm, you obey his words, squeezing tightly around his length again. Rafe lets out a guttural moan, tossing his head back for a moment before looking at you again, watching how well you take him, as if you were made for him. The way he fills you up you is like pieces of a puzzle, just meant for one another. “Shiiitt…you’re so fucking tight. Squeezin’ ‘round your best friends cock so good.”
After you’re both worked through your orgasms, he pulls out of you. You groan at the loss of him, feeling a big opening left where he had been. Rafe leans down to press a deep, meaningful kiss to your lips. He pulls back, wiping your hair and sweat from your face with a proud smile.
“God, baby. You did so good, so fucking good. That’s a good girl. My girl, yeah?” He leans down again, pressing a kiss to your neck. Rafe whispers in your ear. “m’so proud.” Before pulling away completely, he presses a kiss to each of your cheeks, your nose, and one final kiss to your forehead. 
You turn on your side to face him as he lay on the bed beside you. “Rafe…” Your voice shows your exhaustion, but also your hesitancy.
He turns on his side to face you as well, propping his head up against his hand. “Hm?” He says with a smile. He can’t help it, it’s impossible for him to see you and not smile after what you just did. 
You flop back down onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. It’s too hard to say this while looking at his beautiful smile. “That was…” 
“Incredible?” He interrupts, his fingers lightly tracing up and down your arm. 
“What was that?” You blurt out, scared that if you don’t say it now then you never will.
Rafe’s smile fades quickly, he props himself up on his elbows, staring down at you with furrowed brows. “Woah woah, woah. Hey. What? What d’you mean?”
You give a light shrug, his fingers no longer moving over your skin. You avoid looking at his pretty eyes. “I mean like…what happens now?”
He sighs, laying back down next to you, looking up at the ceiling. “Well, you’re my girl now, yeah? I thought that was obvious.” 
“Your girl? The Rafe Cameron I know doesn’t do girlfriends.” You say lightly.
“That’s because I never wanted one. I never…needed one, I’ve got you.”
“So…we’re friends?” You ask, attempting and failing at trying to hide your emotions.
“We are, aren’t we?” Rafe responds, not knowing what his words imply or how they’ll make you feel.
“Yeah…yea we’re friends.” You say dryly. 
He turns his head to face you. “Hey. Y/N. What’s wrong? Hey…hey, talk to me.”
“Nothing, Rafe. I’m fine.”
“Jesus, no you’re not. C‘mon baby, what is it?”
“Nothing!” You snap. You’re angry about your own reaction, feeling stupid once the words leave your mouth. Grabbing the sheets, you cover yourself up.
“Did I do something? What’d I do?” Asks Rafe, making you feel worse about yourself. It’s not his fault you feel like this. “Is it what we did? Look, I’m sorry if—“
You cut him off, not being able to listen to him blame himself. “I just…I don’t think friends do what we just did.”
“Jesus, y/n. Look…” He trails off, cursing himself. “Do you not wanna be my girl or something? ‘Cause I can—“
“No, Rafe. I just…I don’t get what you mean. Your girl?”
“Yeah.” He says, confused.
“Like…your girlfriend? Dating? Us?”
“Fuck. Yes, baby. My girlfriend.” Rafe says the word as though it’s a pain to say it. “Will you be my girlfriend? Please?” You could tease him about the way he’s practically begging you.
“Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?” You joke, not being able to resist. Rafe laughs, glad to hear your usual self. 
“Well, I’m kinda hoping that I’m your…boyfriend, now.”
“Hmm…let me think…” You say, tapping your chin as if this is something you need to contemplate. You can see his demeanor sadden from the corner of your eye, causing you to look over at him. “What’s in it for me?” You add, a smirk threatening to appear on your face. You can barely hold back your laughter at this point, but he still looks so sad, like a puppy who can’t have a treat. “Jesus Rafe, I thought you’d never ask.” You don’t even give him enough time to respond before you’re on top of him, his lips immediately seeking yours.
“Yeah? You mean it?” He asks between kisses, almost nervously. 
“Of course I do, Rafe. ‘Promise.” 
You always know just what to say to him to calm down his mind, he loves that about you. “Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this. God, I fuckin’ love you.” Your eyes widen at his confession, you look down at him. He’s almost just as shocked as you are. He didn’t even know he felt that way. The words just slipped out, but they felt so right. “Fuck, no, I meant—“ Rafe starts, but you cut him off. You kiss him again,  passionately. This kiss shows him exactly how you feel, somehow being more intimate than having sex with him was. 
“I love you, Rafe. I promise.” You know how he can feel like everybody is against him, so you try to reassure him as much as you can. You’re the only one who’s ever made him feel cared for; he just never wanted to fuck things up with you. “Please just…can you promise me that you’ll stop beating up random strangers who talk to me? ‘Cause I don’t care about them, Rafe. I care about you.”
This is all so new, talking to each other in this way. But it’s how you’ve both always felt. “But y/n, he-“ Rafe pauses, reconsidering his words for you. He sighs and then mumbles, “Yeah…I’ll try.” He looks back at you, you with a stern look in your eyes. “I will. I promise.”
You smile, leaning down for a kiss. Quickly, things start to escalate again. Rafe flips you both over so he’s on top. He leans down to kiss your neck, sucking and nipping at it as he works his way down, kissing every inch of you. 
“Mnmh…fuck…” You moan.
Rafe smiles against your skin. “Yeah, baby? That feels good huh?” You only nod eagerly as a response. Rafe takes hold of his already hard cock, using his fist to pump over himself a few times, letting out a low growl. He rubs his dewy, pink tip over your sticky hole. 
You let out a moan, still being sensitive from your previous orgasms. “F-fuck…Rafe, m’too sensitive, s’too much.” You whine.
“Shh…shhhh baby, it’s okay. I’m not gonna do nothin’, jus’ wanna show you how proud of my girl I am.” His mouth works it’s way down, landing back between your thighs. Your boyfriend softly bites at your inner thighs, his eyes staying trained on you as your face contorts in pleasure. Eventually he finds your soaking core, lapping up the mix of your juices. You feel his fingers gather some of your arousal, mixed with his cum. Before you know it, those fingers are deep inside your throat. “Taste that, baby? Hm? Taste how fucking good we are?” 
You nod, whining when his mouth finds your core again. His tongue flicks at your most sensitive bud, making you jump. Although Rafe only holds onto harder the more you try to run. “Baby, it’s okay. Let me take care of you; clean you up.”
It doesn’t take long until you’re yet again, a shaking, crying mess underneath him. When his mouth works it’s way back to yours, you can taste both of you on his tongue. “Fuckin’ love this pussy. I fucking love you.”
You smile a weak, tired smile at him. He rolls off of you, flipping you both on your side so he can spoon you. He kisses your shoulder, his fingers lightly tracing mindless shapes into your skin. “I love you too.” You respond as you drift off to sleep in your boyfriend's arms.
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Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed. Please feel free to leave more asks, I will most likely get to them at some point. Thank you!
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reiderwriter · 7 months ago
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🧺 Any More 🧺
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024
Requested: spencer realizing that he’ll never love someone as much as he loves you. (whether that be because of a case or what have you), his mind is absolutely blown with how much he worships you and how much you love and care for him and he shows you that with the softest most sickeningly sweet sex you and him has ever done. <3
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI! Discussions of case details, case burnout, very close friends to lovers, oral (f receiving), vanilla sex (p in v penetration). Discussions of mental health, and two idiots in love.
A/N: I'm hitting the prompt Vanilla for this one, so please don't be scared off by the KinkBingo tags! I had a lot of fun writing this one (and adding Pride and Prejudice quotes into the smut scene because HELLO). Let me know what you think in the replies~♡
Masterlist || Bingo Board
You hadn't seen Spencer in 100 days. Which in the grand scheme of things wasn't that long, trapped in the purgatory of a ‘what if’ the way you had been for the last eight years. 
You'd lived without him for longer than 100 days before. He'd been in prison, you'd been on assignments, you'd lived an entire life before meeting him, but now somehow 100 days was too much time, and you were exhausted. You understood why Spencer had to take some time away from you, from the team in an official capacity after everything he'd been through. You supported him even. 
But when even your free time didn't overlap anymore, you wondered if your relationship would ever be the same again. 
Spencer was a friend, your best friend, probably. You'd arrived on the BAU team, he'd rattled off some statistics, stammering the way through them, and you'd immediately warmed to the man. He was brilliant, funny, and fiercely loyal, and you tried your best to protect him even when the job seemed designed to break people like him into thousands of little pieces. 
You'd tried to convince him to leave before, after Maeve had died. You didn't want to see him heart broken again, but no one else had seemed to agree. 
“Reid needs purpose,” they'd said. “Reid needs something to do.” 
What Reid needed was to not end up dead before he had a chance to be happy, and happiness didn't come often in your field of work. 
You'd been almost vindicated a year later when he'd been shot again, almost fatally. Vindicated, maybe but distraught and inconsolable. Morgan had to carry you screaming and clawing out of his hospital room multiple times. It sounded stupid enough to yourself that it was only then you realized your feelings for the man. 
You wanted to be Spencer Reid's happiness, which was why you were so lost without him. 
He was coming back on Monday, and at least you had the weekend to sort your feelings out about everything.not just about him, but about the job you'd found didn't fit you well enough anymore, about the team you loved like family, about the relationship you knew would likely never come to fruition. 
You dumped your bags at your door when you'd arrived in your house that night, pushed yourself into your bedroom and let yourself collapse on your bed, balling up into as cozy a position as you could. You didn't even bother taking your jacket off, you just let your brain haze over and sleep rush in. 
Three quiet raps at your door lifted you up and out of bed again, not an hour later. 
You grabbed your phone, grabbed the second go-bag you kept at your house, put your shoes back on, and opened the door, expecting Emily and a new case. 
“Where are we going?” You said, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, not even looking up at your guest. 
“Hopefully, nowhere? I brought takeout.” 
Your eyes widened then, taking in all 185cm of Doctor Spencer Reid, tweed jacket and plastic bag full of chow mein included. 
“Spencer,” you breathed out, like a sigh of relief, letting the bag drop to the floor next to the first one and letting yourself into his arms. 
He held you carefully there for a second before leading you back into the apartment, wrapping an arm around you and ruffling your hair. It was brotherly, and it made you sick to your stomach. 
“What are you doing here?” 
“Emily said you were back from a case,” he started, unpacking the takeaway from the containers. “And it feels wrong to eat this without you.” 
You rolled your eyes and followed him into the kitchen, pulling two forks out of the drawer nearer you and stabbing them in the top of your two cups. 
“Hey, I can use chopsticks now,” he said, defending himself against an inside joke. Spencer was always useless with his hands. 
“I don't care if you can use them, I care that they don't accidentally end up stabbing me,” you said, taking yourself back to your bedroom, Spencer following. 
“You'd hardly die from being stabbed by a wooden chopstick, maybe a papercut or a splinter but-” 
“But you're just bad enough that I don't want to risk it.” 
You kicked off your shoes again and climbed onto your bed. Spencer followed. 
“Remind me again why we aren't sitting on your couch?” 
“Uncomfortable.” 
“Or at your breakfast bar?” 
“Glorified filing cabinet right now. Eat.” 
He shook his head but complied, leaning back against your pillows as you both began carefully eating. Silently, you pulled your laptop onto your bed, opened it up, and pressed play on a movie, one you'd seen more than once, and you'd forced Spencer to watch before as well. 
In a comfortable, friendly silence, you finished your food. You stretched out in a yawn once and then curled into his side, letting his mumbling voice, repeating the movie lines as they were spoken, lull you softly into sleep. 
Spencer knew he had to leave, but he couldn't bring himself to wake you. The movie had finished hours ago, he'd closed the laptop and turned off the bug lights, but he couldn't leave. 
Unlike you, he hadn't counted the days that you'd been apart. He hadn't needed to. He knew you'd be waiting there for him when he returned, knew you'd give him a smile and a pat on the back, and immediately start bouncing ideas off of him. It was what he loved about you. 
As he laid next to you in your bed, a place he'd absolutely been before, his heart thumped. Just once, but hard. 
Even in sleep, you looked exhausted. Your shirt was crumpled, hair a mess, you were still wearing makeup, and he knew he'd probably get an earful for letting you sleep like that in the morning. You were a mess, and he still wanted you. 
The thought came to him suddenly, another painful thump of his chest echoing in his mind. He rubbed absent mindedly at his chest as if experiencing heartburn. In the dim light of the room, he let his head drop to the pillow and wrapped two shaky arms around you and pulled you in closer. 
The two of you were a picture - both in suits, both with badges still somewhere on your person, both dearly clinging to the person they feared losing the most. 
When you woke the next morning, it was actually the afternoon. 
“Spencer,” you groaned, melting under the heat of his embrace. Somehow, during the night, he'd rolled on top of you, pressing you into the bed with a delightful pressure, head nuzzled into your neck, arms tucked around your waist. 
“Spencer, we should get up,” you said again, forcing your eyelids apart as your mascara tried to glue them together. 
“Mmmmhh,” he groaned, moving to pick himself up off you for a minute but lowering himself again. If asked, he'd blame your hand in his hair, stroking the rogue curls gently, as if he were a prized pet and you their carer. 
“Spencer, its 2pm.” 
“On a Saturday.” You laughed at how pouty his voice sounded, but he complied and rolled off of you slightly, arms still wrapped around you. 
“Come on. Get up. I've got some clothes that might fit you, let's get you out of the tweed.” 
He huffed but nodded and lifted himself halfway to upright, eyes still closed lazily as he let in the light millimetre by millimetre. 
“God, my face feels horrible,” you said, itching at your nose. “How did we even sleep so long like this? My belt is still on, Spencer, my belt.” 
“If you were still wearing a weapon, then I'd be worried,” he smiled. 
You shot him a sarcastic look and finally detangled yourself, only to clasp his hands and pull him forward as well, letting him trail you to your closet. 
“Here, change in the bathroom,” he nodded and walked away, following directions with eyes still closed, as if it were really his apartment and not your own. 
100 days without him, and it was as if it had only been 100 hours. Your entire body chemistry changed when he was around, the stick holding your spine rigidly in place, dissolving into calm, into a smile and a free giggle. It felt right again, and you almost forgot you'd ever felt wrong. 
After briefly changing, you swapped place with Spencer, who'd exited the bathroom with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth and wet hair. 
“Dry it for me?” He asked, sitting on your couch, and you nodded your ascent. A shower and a quick change later, and you were doing just that. 
As much as he tried to keep his head upright, it kept lolling onto your thigh, yawns stretching out of him as he nuzzled closer to you. 
“Spencer, you're like a big kid, keep your head up.” 
“I'm not a kid,” he laughed, hooking his arms behind your knees and nuzzling closer into your soft sweats. “I'm just tired.” 
“You're right. A child would probably be better behaved.” 
“Our child would be,” he sighed, but you'd already turned the hairdryer back on, drowning out everything. Everything but that thump again. A child, he was thinking about children, and more importantly, he was thinking about your children. With him. 
He'd always imagined himself with a family, knowing it would ultimately stay in his imagination. But for a second, his visions changed. It wasn't just a child or two. It was you. Thump. 
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. 
He only released the image when you finally pushed his head off of you and stood, turning away from him to get a glass of water from your kitchen. 
“So, any plans today? Books to read, papers to mark, undergrads to run away screaming from?” You let the ice water cool your hot cheeks, but kept your back to him. You were hot, embarrassed, and you were looking at him in a sickeningly sweet way that could only be described as love struck or struck dumb. 
“No, no, I finished all my obligations at the college yesterday,” he said, following behind you and picking up your cup when you set it down, taking a sip himself. 
“I was… I was actually hoping we could spend some time together? Unless you had plans, which is totally fine-” 
“No, Spencer, yeah, I have no plans, that's…. Well I have to do laundry, which is a bit boring but, no. No plans.” 
“Laundry?” 
“Two week case in Florida, I don't know how you didn't smell me yesterday, Spencer. I'd be running for the hills.” 
He laughed and stepped away again, grabbing the two go bags by the door and coming back into your space. 
“How about we get this done now so we can spend the day in a Who-Trek marathon?” 
“Make that a Who-Greys Anatomy Marathon, and you have yourself a deal.” 
He pouted again, and you snorted at the sight, taking another sip of water to calm yourself before you could react safely to that face. 
“Come on, you know you've been dying to know what happens next at the Grey Sloane Memorial Hospital.” 
“I thought it was called the Seattle Grace Mercy?” 
“Oh we better get to that laundry now. You have a lot to catch up on.” 
Grabbing a bag in one hand and his free hand in your other, you made your way down to your building's laundry room. But despite the man by your side and the relaxing day threatening to stretch ahead of you, a gloom caught you in the corridors. 
You'd worked for two weeks, practically solid. You'd killed a man two days ago, or at least someone on your team had multiple shots having been fired. Another day on your job, another unsub felled, and everyone else was content with this just being a part of the job description. 
It felt like each step towards the laundry room, each thing you did that was normal, that was regular, threw back in your face the pain you endured to save lives. 
The bag in your hand weighed you down, pulling you lower and lower by the second. 
You reached the laundry room, and you found the weight almost unbearable, stopping just before you could step in. You didn't have to think about what came next though, because suddenly the bag was out of your hands and Spencer was sorting your laundry for you. 
“It's a Saturday, so your neighbour's won't complain if we separate the darks and lights into two machines, will they?” He asked, not looking up at you as he worked pouring out the fabric softener and the detergent. “Y/N?” 
You hadn't noticed the lightness in your body until the tears hit your cheeks, the weight gone with his support. 
“Y/N, what is it? What's wrong?” He said, hands cupping your face, because of course he was immediately at your side. 
“I-I can't do it, Spencer…” your voice shook, pitching upwards, your vision blurring with tears. 
“Can't do what, Y/N? Talk to me please, let me help?” 
“I can't do laundry!” You said, finally bursting into a full fit of tears and burying your head in his waiting chest. 
“L-Laundry?” He said, trying not to laugh, but the smile slipping out anyway now you were holding him. 
You only sobbed again, nodding into his shirt, aware you were probably leaving snot all over it but not being able to care. It was your shirt anyway. You would just have to add it back to your laundry pile. 
The thought set you off on another wave of sobs, and Spencer set about comforting you again. Keeping an arm wrapped around you, he put his quarters into the machines and set them off before quickly ushering you back up the stairs into your apartment. 
“Y/N? Y/N, please talk to me,” he begged, smoothing your hair out of your eyes as you tried to gather yourself.
“I don't…. I can't….” You took a breath again, aware of the way your breathing hitched in your chest as you did. 
“I don't think I can do this anymore,” you said, and his eyes widened quickly. 
“This? Y/N, if you mean this as in us, then I can't-” 
“This job,” you clarified, hands digging into the soft flesh of his arms further as he held you, finally sitting back on your couch. 
“The job. Okay, the job. That's okay. We all feel like this at some point.” 
You sniffed again and refused to meet his eyes. 
“But this isn't like the other times this - It's like my whole b-body is protesting, and I can't sleep, and if I don't, then I might get sloppy and an unsub could-” 
“Y/N, focus on my voice. You're spiralling. Listen to my voice, let's take some breaths, and think about this for a second.” 
He guided you through some breathing, a hand on your back tapping out beats even as his voice grew quiet. 
When you finally relaxed, you were sat on top of him, his hand rubbing circles into your back. 
“I think it started when you left,” you whispered. “When you went to Mexico, and then, you know,” you've voice thickened, and you couldn't get the words out. 
“And then these last 100 days they've just been…difficult.” 
“100…difficult,” he echoed, almost breathless as he listened to you. 
“It's like I can't do it without you. I never had to try to do it without you, and now I get what people say when they say this job is shitty, because it is when your best friend isn't there.” 
You gave him a weak smile and wiped away your tears, trying to climb from his lap. But his firm arms held you still, and you didn't really want out anyways. 
“When I get home, everything is different, and I can't make myself do anything. If you weren't here, I wouldn't have done that laundry. I'd let it sit and avoid it for weeks. Do you understand?” 
“Y/N, lots of people feel depressed sometimes-” 
“It's not - Spencer, I don't think this is something I can medicate my way out of. I don't know what to do because I can't do my job without you, and I can't be happy doing my job, and if I leave my job I'll be without you and then-” 
Your voice cracked again. 
“And then I still won't be happy.” The words were barely a whisper, but they were a plea, too. You weren't sure what for. 
“You can't be happy without me?” He asked, but it was more a statement than anything else. Spencer felt horrible in that moment as his chest rattled, gleeful that he was your happiness. 
“I love you,” he said, outloud finally after eight years. 
“I love you, too, Spencer, but-” 
“No, Y/N. Listen to me. I. Love. You.” The thumping of his heart set the tempo for the choir that was his senses to begin singing, as he finally leaned forward and kissed you.
“I love you, and I don't care if you're working at the BAU or if you're avoiding laundry at home. I, god, you're amazing and wonderful, and you're a human being, and you've our yourself under so much pressure for the last decade to keep me alive, to keep all of us alive really and….” 
He took another breath, leaning into kiss you one more time. 
“And you deserve a break.” 
“W-When we take breaks, people die.” 
“Did anyone die when I was teaching for the last three months? When JJ went on maternity leave?” 
You shook your head, but your brain was still a mess. 
“You all had reasons, I-” 
“You have reasons, too. Y/N…. Y/N, let me be your reason.” 
For a moment or two, Spencer truly thought you were going to say no. He thought you would get up and walk away, or better yet, ask him to leave and never come back. 
So when you pressed your lips to his, he was sure that this was a dream. 
But to you, it was salvation. Spencer Reid's love was the lifeline you'd been thrown, and it was buoyant enough to make you start floating. 
His hands kneaded the flesh at your hips as he pulled you closer still to him, his tongue slipping into your mouth to explore every part of you there. 
“Y/N… love…you,” he mumbled with each spare breath he caught, and you only detangled your lips to hear him say it again as he pressed similarly heated kisses against every inch of your exposed skin. 
When Spencer's mind lost its ability to create original speech, he leant back on a lifetime of information, of learning love through books and people and marathons with you. 
“I know that all I know right now is that I love you. And I know that I always will,” he whispered, lifting you and carrying you back to the bed you'd only crawled from an hour hence. 
A hand slid under your shirt, and slowly pushed it over your head, letting it slowly drop to the floor as he held you tenderly. 
“To me, you are perfect.”
His mouth found one nipple, and he gently kissed, then suckled at it, hands softly caressing your stomach, feeling along every ridge of you as you writhed under him. 
“Of all the FBI Units, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine.” 
“Spencer,” you said, voice still thick with tears, but these ones more tender, more joyful. 
His hand eased your sweats over your ass and off, his hips settling between your legs as if he found the place he was made to lie forever. 
“The truth of it is, I’ve loved you from the first second I met you.” 
His mouth trailed lower until his tongue hit your clit, brushing against it languidly, as if it was his deepest desire to taste you and nothing else ever again.
His tongue flattened and flicked and pushed inside of you as you replayed his words again and again and again. You found yourself repeating them with him. 
“I love you,” you echoed as he pushed a finger inside of you. 
“I.. love you,” you gasped as he added another. 
“I love you,” you screamed as your back arched up off the bed, finding your pleasure in his tongue, just ad you'd found love in his words. 
“You have bewitched me body and soul, and I love….” He freed his cock from his pants, and took it in hand.
“I love…” With another kiss, he pressed the tip of it against you, asking for permission silently as you nodded your head. 
“I love you.” He pushed in slowly, but it wouldn't matter how he did it because now you knew how he felt, and you didn't want to return to a time of not knowing. 
Hooking your legs around him, Spencer dropped his forehead to yours and looked you directly in the eyes as he began moving. In and out, he thrust, mouth open in a moan of pleasure, likely mirroring your own.
The poetry, the movie lines, they were gone now, and Spencer was left with nothing but you, and love, and love for you. 
“Spencer,” you moaned out, and he felt his chest swell. Pride. His name on your tongue, his body pressed to yours, claiming you as his ad you claimed him as yours. 
He came with a shudder and you were not far behind, his undoing sending a shiver up your spine as his fingers grazed your clit again. 
You sat panting for a minute, still attached, still forehead to forehead. 
You weren't sure if it was him who giggled first or if it was you, but you were glad it was one of you. 
You spent the rest of the night, the rest of the weekend, wrapped in his warmth, dressed in his love, taking each day a step at a time as you basked in his adoration.
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