#I'm rolling this around in my mind as an AU

[ijustmissyouraccenths]

I Want To Kill Her (Part 2)

Au where Y/N and Harry are neighbors who find out their spouses are cheating with each other.

Based off Fortnight by Taylor Swift

Part 1

CW: Smut, cursing, unprotected sex, emotional abuse.

Word Count: 10,085

The months following the gut-wrenching discovery of Teddy's affair were a chaotic storm of emotions and turmoil. The idea of my spouse, the person I trusted most in this world, being unfaithful was unbearable. But without any concrete evidence, doubt enveloped me like a thick fog, suffocating me as I struggled to regain my footing. Though I desperately wanted to believe he wasn't cheating, the blatant signs and whispers from those around us made it impossible to deny the painful truth.

Rage and heartbreak battle within me as I struggle to forgive Teddy, to find a way to salvage our relationship. But each attempt is met with the painful memories of his infidelity, burning like acid through my veins. I'm terrified of losing my British citizenship, my sense of identity and belonging, if I leave him. And even worse, I dread the thought of calling my family and confessing the truth - that not only did Teddy betray me with another woman, but in some sick twisted way, I am also to blame. My family adored him like a son, and he gave me a life beyond my wildest dreams. How could I ever reconcile these conflicting emotions?

Harry's sudden decision to divorce Rosie sent shockwaves through the once peaceful fortress of their home. In just a week, he had packed his bags and walked away, leaving behind a cold and empty shell that was now up for sale. As new potential buyers roamed the halls, I couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal from Harry's abrupt departure. The last time I saw him was in a dingy motel room, where we spent a desperate night together before he vanished without a trace. His disappearance was calculated and cruel, fueled by his seemingly endless wealth and power. Meanwhile, I was left with nothing but uncertainty and the option to return home to Florida. But Harry's resentment only grew as I hesitated to make a final decision. He wanted me to walk away with no regrets, but real life is messy and complicated - far from the neat and tidy ending he desired.

I was trapped in a prison of a house, held captive by a man who claimed to love me but had truly only created a tangled web of chaos and pain. We forced ourselves into therapy every week, desperate to salvage something from the wreckage he had caused. But even after all the sessions, I still felt like I was drowning in the suffocating grip of his selfishness. It was never enough, and I could feel my sanity slipping away with each passing day.

Evenings rolled into nights and days blurred into months. Each moment seemed agonizingly long as I begged time to fly quicker, to wash away the stale taste of betrayal and deception from my existence. The house that once echoed with laughter and love now felt eerily silent, its walls whispering Teddy's betrayal during the quietest hours. My heart ached in ways I never knew possible, each pulse a reminder of the pain he had caused. 

In a bid for relief, I threw myself into cooking elaborate meals, organising closets, watering the drooping plants Teddy had once loved. Yet every activity was tainted with the memory of him - his laughter rings in my mind as I repeat chores we used to do together. It was a desperate plight to keep myself sane amidst the storm that threatened to break me down.

Teddy's unfaithfulness took its toll on my spirit, but Harry's abandonment shattered me entirely. I played over our last night together again and again in my mind. There was something feral about that night; lust mixed with desperation and an underlying tone of finality. He left without any explanation, disappearing like a ghost only leaving behind the faint scent of his cologne and a raw wound that refused to heal.

The cracks were beginning to show. Laughter seemed forced, smiles rarely reached my eyes. The weekly therapy sessions felt more like an interrogation than relief, talks of my own explicit night replaying session after session. Hours spent scrutinizing every detail of our dysfunctional relationship only amplified my misery. Every shared secret, every stolen glance, every whispered promise – all now seemed meaningless and distorted under the harsh scrutiny of reality.

In the end, it was not Teddy who broke me; it was me who had allowed myself to be broken by him. My judgment clouded by love hindered me from seeing the man he truly was – a master manipulator cloaked in charm and charisma. The truth was painful to accept but liberating in its own cruel way. I was no longer in denial. I was no longer the woman who would bend over backwards to accommodate the whims of unfaithful men. I was stronger than my heartbreak, stronger than their deceit. And most importantly, I learned the toughest lesson of my life – not all love is meant to be cherished; sometimes, it's better left discarded.

As I sat in the therapist's office, the stark white walls closing in around me, my voice cracked as I attempted to verbalize the turmoil within me. "I just don't understand how it got to this point," I admitted, tears threatening to spill over.

Dr. Richards leaned forward, her gentle gaze meeting mine with empathy. "It sounds like you've been through a lot of pain and betrayal," she said softly. "But remember, healing begins with acknowledging the truth."

I nodded, wiping away a stray tear that escaped down my cheek. "I know, but it's so hard to let go of everything that was once so real to me."

Dr. Richards offered a kind smile. "It's okay to feel that way. It's all a part of the process." She paused before continuing, "Have you considered what you need to do to move forward from this?"

I took a deep breath, the weight of the question settling heavily on my shoulders. "I... I think I need to start by forgiving myself for allowing this to happen. For not seeing the signs sooner."

The words hung in the air between us, heavy with unspoken pain and regret. Dr. Richards reached out and placed a comforting hand on mine. "Forgiveness is a powerful tool, both for yourself and for others," she said gently.

I closed my eyes, trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. "But how do I forgive someone who shattered me into a million pieces?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Dr. Richards' voice was steady and reassuring as she replied, "Forgiveness doesn't mean forgetting or excusing their actions. It means releasing the hold they have over your heart and mind."

As I sat there, grappling with the weight of forgiveness, a million thoughts raced through my mind. Dr. Richards' words lingered like a balm on my wounded soul, but the path to healing still seemed daunting.

"I understand that forgiveness is crucial, but how do I even begin to untangle the mess he left behind?" I asked, my voice wavering with uncertainty.

Dr. Richards leaned back in her chair, her expression thoughtful. "It's a process, one step at a time," she said gently. "Start by acknowledging your pain and allowing yourself to feel it without judgment."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I nodded, the emotions swirling inside me threatening to spill over. "It's just so hard to let go of the anger and hurt," I confessed.

She nodded in understanding. "Anger is a natural response to betrayal, but holding onto it only prolongs your pain. Remember, forgiveness is not for his benefit, but for yours."

Her words struck a chord deep within me, resonating with a truth I had been avoiding. "I want to move forward, but I don't know where to begin," I admitted, feeling lost in the sea of my own emotions.

Dr. Richards reached for a tissue and handed it to me with a gentle smile. "Start by being gentle with yourself," she advised. "Forgiveness is a gift you give yourself, a release from the burden of carrying someone else's actions."

I took the tissue gratefully, wiping away my tears as her words sank in. "I never thought of it that way," I murmured, feeling a glimmer of hope amidst the pain.

She gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. "You are stronger than you realize. Forgiveness is not about condoning what he did; it's about setting yourself free from his grip on your heart."

As I sat there, enveloped in Dr. Richards' compassion and wisdom, a sense of peace washed over me. The road to forgiveness may be long and arduous, but with her guidance and my own resilience, perhaps one day I could truly let go and embrace the healing that awaited me.

The following weeks were a whirlwind of emotion, a rollercoaster of highs and lows. I spent many sleepless nights replaying old memories, wrestling with anger and regret. But with each passing day, the burden on my heart felt lighter. I began journaling my thoughts, pouring out my hurt into ink instead of letting it fester within me. And despite the painful contents, there was a strange sort of relief in seeing my emotions spelled out on paper.

"Writing can be therapeutic," Dr. Richards had suggested during one of our sessions. "It provides a safe space to confront your feelings, as raw and as tumultuous as they may be."

Within the quiet sanctuary of my mind and the solitude of my room, I started to delve deeper into myself; into the wounds that had been inflicted upon me and the ones I had unknowingly inflicted upon myself. The process was painful but cathartic. For each tear that fell onto the pages of my journal, there was a tiny piece of pain and bitterness being released.

Days turned into weeks, and slowly but surely, I found myself becoming less consumed by his betrayal and more focused on my healing. I started attending group therapy sessions where I met others who bore similar scars – our shared experiences bound us together in a circle of empathy and understanding.

In those group meetings, I realized that pain was universal but so was resilience. Listening to others narrate their journeys of recovery ignited a spark within me. I saw mirrored in their stories my own strength and determination to rise above the ashes.

One day, while looking at myself in the mirror after another group therapy session, something remarkable happened. Staring back at me was a woman who looked familiar but different—a stronger version of myself; a survivor. My reflection no longer showcased the woman betrayed by love but instead revealed a woman who had found strength amidst despair.

“I am not just a victim,” I whispered to my reflection, the words filling the room with a newfound determination. “I am a survivor.”

The following week in Dr. Richard's office, I found myself recalling this moment with a sense of pride. "I am starting to see changes," I admitted, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips.

She returned my smile, her eyes filled with warmth and encouragement. "Change is a testament to your strength and resilience," she responded. "You're embracing this journey with courage, learning to forgive not just him, but yourself as well."

Her words felt like a beacon of hope guiding me through the foggy path of recovery. While the pain still lingered like an unforgotten ghost, each day it seemed less potent than before. I was indeed learning to forgive—forgive him for his betrayal and forgive myself for my blindness to his deceit.

As our session ended, I left Dr. Richards' office feeling lighter than when I had come in. With every step away from her office and every step towards home, I was journeying farther from the woman who had allowed herself to be broken by betrayal and closer to the woman who had found strength in her own resilience.

Journaling had become my safe haven, a place where I could pour out my deepest thoughts and emotions without fear of judgment. But that sanctuary was shattered when one day, in a rush to make it to therapy on time, I left my journal open on the bed. My heart stopped when I returned to find Teddy holding it, his eyes scanning the pages filled with my most vulnerable moments. In an instant, my privacy was invaded and my trust was broken.

The tense silence in the room shattered as Teddy's furious voice pierced the air, causing my heart to skip a beat. I watched helplessly as he held my journal in a white-knuckled grip, his eyes scanning the pages with growing anger. "What the actual fuck is this?" he bellowed, his face contorted with rage.

I stood frozen, my mind racing to find the right words to diffuse the escalating situation. "Teddy, please put that down," I pleaded, my voice barely above a whisper, but he ignored me, his expression dark and menacing.

With a sharp intake of breath, I lunged forward to grab the journal from his hands, but he deftly sidestepped me. The tension crackled between us like electricity, each heartbeat echoing in the turbulent silence that enveloped the room.

"You've been writing about our sessions? and Harry?" Teddy's voice was laced with accusation, his gaze burning into mine with searing intensity.

I felt a surge of defiance rising within me as I squared my shoulders. "It's none of your business," I shot back, my tone sharper than intended, but I refused to back down in the face of his intrusion.

His jaw clenched as he took a step closer, his towering presence casting a shadow over me. "None of my business? You've been documenting our private moments, our struggles! How you also fucked the neighbor?" His voice rose with each word, reverberating off the walls like thunder in a storm “As if that little fucking photo he sent while fucking you, my wife, wasn’t bad enough”.

I could feel my own anger building, fueled by his violation of my privacy. "You have no right to invade my thoughts like this and last I checked, you were the one who started cheating," I retorted, the words dripping with resentment and hurt.

The atmosphere crackled with tension as we stood locked in a battle of wills, neither willing to yield ground. The air grew thick with unspoken accusations and grievances left festering beneath the surface.

"You think you can just hide behind your journal and play the victim?" Teddy's voice was laced with contempt, his eyes boring into mine with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine.

My fists clenched at my sides as a surge of defiance coursed through me. "I am not playing anything! This is my way of coping with everything you've put me through, let’s remember who started this mess," I shot back, my voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside me.

His laugh was harsh and bitter, cutting through the charged atmosphere like a blade. "Coping? Is that what you call it? Writing about how I've destroyed you? This is pretty much a sex book." His words were like daggers aimed straight at my heart.

The room seemed to shrink around us as we faced off in this battle of words and wills. Every breath felt heavy with unspoken truths and buried emotions that threatened to erupt like a volcano on the verge of eruption.

"I trusted you," I whispered hoarsely, tears stinging at the corners of my eyes as the weight of his betrayal bore down on me like a crushing weight.

Teddy's expression softened for a fleeting moment before hardening once more. "Trusted me? Look where that got you," he sneered, a cruel twist to his lips betraying the depths of his callousness.

The walls seemed to close in around us as the fight escalated into a tumultuous storm of emotions and accusations. Each word exchanged felt like a blow to an already fractured foundation that threatened to crumble under the weight of our shared pain.

The rumble of thunder outside echoed the turmoil inside as our voices rose in a crescendo of anger and hurt. The room pulsed with an energy so charged it felt as though lightning might strike at any moment, igniting a fire that would consume us both.

"I'm tired of being your punching bag," I declared, my voice firm with newfound resolve.

Teddy's face contorted with fury. "You think you're innocent in all this?" he shot back, his words like venom dripping from his lips.

The air crackled with electricity as we faced off in a battle neither willing to concede. It was a clash of egos and emotions, each word exchanged fueling the fire burning between us.

"I won't be silenced by your guilt-tripping," I retorted, my voice cutting through the charged atmosphere with precision.

Teddy's eyes blazed with rage as he took a step closer, his breath hot against my skin. "Guilt-tripping? You've been playing the victim since day one," he accused, his voice dripping with contempt.

The room seemed on the verge of imploding as our tempers flared and our voices clashed in a symphony of discord. It was a battle of wills and wounded pride, each unwilling to yield ground in this war of words.

"You'll never own up to your mistakes," I accused, my voice tinged with frustration and anger.

Teddy's fists clenched at his sides as he glared at me with unbridled fury. "Mistakes? You're the one who shattered everything we had, we could’ve come back from this. You didn’t have to fuck the first guy you saw!" he roared, his words echoing off the walls like thunder on a stormy night.

The fight raged on like an unrelenting tempest, each word exchanged adding fuel to the fire burning between us. The air crackled with tension as we stood face to face in a battle that threatened to consume us both.

“You know what? I’m done,” I seethed, my voice rising to a fever pitch. "I'll find a place to stay and it sure as hell won't be here!" My fists clenched at my sides, nails digging into my palms as I glared daggers at the person in front of me. The fury coursing through my body threatened to consume me, but I welcomed it, fueled by sheer determination to escape this toxic environment.

I took a deep breath and tried to steady my shaking hands as I dialed Bella's number, she was the first close friend I had made in London. The phone rang for what felt like hours before she finally picked up.

"Hey, Bella. It's me," I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside of me.

"Hey, what's up?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

"I need a place to stay for a while. Can I crash with you?" I blurted out, not wanting to beat around the bush.

Bella didn't hesitate. "Of course! What happened?"

"It's a long story," I replied, tears threatening to spill from my eyes again.

"Don't worry about it. Just come over whenever you're ready," she said reassuringly.

I thanked her and hung up the phone before splashing some cold water on my face in an attempt to compose myself. Taking one last look at myself in the mirror, I unlocked the bathroom door and made my way back to the living room.

Teddy was nowhere in sight, probably still seething from our argument. I quickly grabbed my backpack and stuffed some clothes and toiletries inside before heading out the door.

The fresh air outside helped clear my mind as I made my way towards Bella's house. As much as I wanted to stay strong and not let Teddy get to me, his words still stung like open wounds.

I couldn't believe how things had escalated so quickly between us. We used to be inseparable, but now it seemed like we were nothing but strangers living under the same roof.

My thoughts were interrupted as I arrived at Bella's house. She greeted me with open arms and led me inside as Bella and I settled down on her cozy couch, surrounded by the warmth of her living room, she handed me a mug of hot tea. The familiar scent of chamomile filled the air, soothing my frayed nerves.

"So, spill it. What happened between you and Teddy?" Bella asked gently, her eyes reflecting genuine concern.

I took a sip of the tea, feeling its comforting warmth seep into my bones. "It's just... we had another one of those fights about the cheating. The same patterns repeating over and over again. I don't think we can fix this anymore," I admitted, feeling a heavy weight lift off my chest with each word spoken.

Bella nodded knowingly, her empathy palpable. "Sometimes things reach a point where they can't be salvaged, no matter how much we try. It's okay to walk away if it's for your own well-being," she reassured me, her words like a balm to my wounded spirit.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I gazed at my friend, grateful for her unwavering support. "I just feel lost, you know? Like I don't even recognize myself anymore in all of this chaos," I whispered, the vulnerability raw in my voice.

Bella reached out and squeezed my hand reassuringly. "You're not alone in this. You have people who care about you, who want to see you happy and thriving. And remember, sometimes in letting go, we find the strength to rebuild ourselves," she offered with a gentle smile.

Her words resonated deep within me, a glimmer of hope flickering in the darkness that had clouded my heart. I wiped away the tears that had escaped and mustered a small smile in return.

"Thank you, Bella. For everything," I expressed sincerely, feeling a sense of gratitude wash over me for having such a supportive friend by my side.

The early morning light blazed through my window, a stark reminder of the emptiness that awaited me. With a heavy heart, I resolved to find a job, anything to fill the void left by my crumbling marriage. But even as I searched for employment opportunities, my thoughts kept drifting back to Harry. My desperation to know how he was doing gnawed at me like a festering wound, but there was no way to reach out and ask. As I sat in silence, I couldn't help but imagine the different path my life could have taken if I had chosen Harry over Teddy. The image of us together haunted me, a cruel reminder of what could've been. But now it was too late, and there was no turning back from the pain and regret that consumed me.

My fingers danced across the keys of my laptop, typing and retyping cover letters and resumes. The monotony of each hopeful submission echoed the emptiness in my heart, seemingly endless echoes spiraling into a void. To distract myself, I brewed a strong cup of coffee, the familiar smell offering an odd comfort in the chaos that was now my life.

As the day wore on, my efforts bore no fruit. Each potential employer remained a stranger to me, their responses automated and cold. As darkness began to creep into the room, a sense of defeat washed over me and I closed my laptop with a sigh.

I poured myself another cup of coffee, this time opting for the solitude of the balcony to nurse it. The city below shimmered with life just as it always did, indifferent to the turmoil of one seemingly insignificant inhabitant. Despite the layers of concrete and glass that separated us, I felt strangely connected to those anonymous lights - distant beacons in the abyss.

A haunting melody wafted up from somewhere far below, a soulful duet between an old saxophone and an even older piano. The notes danced through the fragmented night air, weaving stories of love lost and found again. Each note was a phantom whispering bittersweet tales into my ear.

Just then, an unexpected sound cut through my thoughts - the shrill ringtone of my phone nudged me back into reality. My heart clenched as I saw Teddy's name flash across the screen. He hadn't called since our fallout; what could he possibly want now? Nervously biting my lip, I answered it. On the other end of the line Teddy’s voice trembled with an emotion I couldn’t quite place; regret perhaps—or was it desperation?

My heart raced as I hung up and blocked Teddy's number. It was a small act of defiance, of reclaiming control over my life. But in that moment, it felt powerful.

I took a deep breath and leaned against the balcony railing, feeling the cold metal press against my cheek. It was a reminder that I was still here, still alive despite the pain and chaos swirling within me.

But even as I tried to convince myself that cutting off all contact with Teddy was for the best, doubts crept into my mind. What if he really did want to talk? What if he wanted to apologize and make things right?

I pushed those thoughts away, refusing to let them cloud my judgement. I couldn't afford to let him back into my life, not when I was finally starting to move on.

With new determination, I went back inside and resumed my job search. As midnight approached and exhaustion began to take hold, I allowed myself a moment of weakness and checked my email one last time.

A spark of hope ignited within me as I read the email from my job recruiter. It informed me that there was a hiring event happening downtown tomorrow and I had been invited to attend. My heart raced with excitement - this could be my chance to finally land a job.

I quickly confirmed my attendance and began mentally preparing for the event. As much as I hated the thought of going out into the world and facing potential rejection, I knew it was something I had to do.

The next morning, after meticulously picking out an outfit and rehearsing what I would say, I set out for downtown. The bustling streets were a chaotic blend of people rushing to work and tourists taking in the sights. As I walked among them, a sense of anonymity washed over me - just another face in the crowd.

Eventually, I reached the building where the hiring event was taking place. After taking a deep breath, I stepped inside and made my way towards the designated area.

The event was packed with job seekers like myself, all eager for a chance at employment. Despite my nerves, I felt emboldened by their determination and pushed forward to talk to employers.

One after another, I introduced myself and handed out resumes with practiced ease. Some showed interest while others dismissed me without a second glance. But instead of feeling defeated by rejection, I soldiered on with renewed purpose.

Hours passed in this manner until finally, just as hope began to wane, someone took notice of me. It was an HR rep from one of the top companies in town, Pleasing.

My heart pounded as I realized this could potentially lead me down the path to seeing Harry again. But I quickly pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the present moment.

The HR rep from Pleasing seemed impressed by my credentials and asked me to come in for an interview the following day. I couldn't believe it - this was exactly the opportunity I had been waiting for.

As I walked out of the hiring event, my mind raced with excitement and nerves. Part of me couldn't help but wonder if Harry still lived in the area, but I quickly shut down that line of thinking. It didn't matter - all that mattered was that I had a chance at a job.

The next day, I arrived at Pleasing's office early, dressed in my best professional attire. The receptionist greeted me with a smile and directed me to the HR department.

I shook myself out of my reverie as the HR rep called me into their office for the interview. Despite my nerves, I answered their questions confidently and highlighted my experience and skills.

As the interview progressed, I could feel the HR rep becoming more and more impressed. The questions became increasingly challenging, but I faced them head-on, demonstrating my knowledge and quick decision-making abilities. 

Slowly, the discussion moved on to my potential role in Pleasing and how I saw myself contributing to the company's future. Here, I outlined a comprehensive plan that included innovation, team synergy, and a commitment to meeting corporate objectives. The HR rep listened attentively, occasionally interjecting to clarify or probe deeper into my responses.

The interview concluded on a positive note and I was told that they would get back to me in a week's time. As I left the building, I felt a sense of accomplishment but there was also an underlying excitement - the possibility of crossing paths with Harry and being able to leave Bella’s to find my own flat.

A week passed in a blur of anticipation and anxiety, each day inching closer to the call from Pleasing. When it eventually came through, my heart skipped a beat. They were pleased with my performance during the interview and wanted me on board.

And so began my journey with Pleasing - a journey that was filled with arduous tasks, demanding projects, and incredible opportunities for growth. The work environment was fast-paced but rewarding, pushing me to work harder each day.

One afternoon, a couple of months into my role at Pleasing, I saw him from afar. It was Harry - my former neighbor and one night stand. He looked just as I remembered him: sharp-witted and focused in his tailored suit, there was an air of high authority about him.

My heart raced as I watched him stride through the office, making his way towards the executive level. Memories of our time together flooded back to me - the late nights he spent on top of me, the way he felt, the way he touched me, how he smelt expensive.

Lost in my thoughts, I suddenly realized that I needed to find a way to meet with him. But how? As a junior employee, I didn't have easy access to top executives like him.

Determined not to let this opportunity pass me by, I approached my manager and asked if there was any way I could have a meeting with Mr. Styles. She gave me a skeptical look but promised to see what she could do.

A few days later, she called me into her office with a smile on her face. "I spoke to Mr. Styles' assistant and they have agreed to give you 15 minutes next week," she said excitedly.

My heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing Harry again after all this time. But what would I say? What would he think of me now?

The day of the meeting arrived and I nervously made my way up to the executive level. As soon as I stepped into Mr. Styles' office, my nerves disappeared - it felt like no time had passed between us at all.

As I cautiously entered his dark office, my heart pounded in my chest. The scent of tobacco and whiskey filled the air, mingling with the intense aura emanating from Harry's piercing green eyes. I could feel his gaze burning into me as I made my way to a chair by his desk.

"Y/N," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I saw the name and couldn't believe it was you, bloody hell."

A chill ran down my spine at the iciness in his tone. Memories flooded back of our tumultuous past, the love and betrayal that had torn us apart. But now, standing in front of him again, I couldn't deny the powerful pull that still existed between us.

"Harry," I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. "It's been a while."

He leaned back in his chair, studying me with an intensity that made my insides churn. "Indeed it has, Y/N," he remarked, his eyes never leaving mine. "I must say, I never expected to see you here."

I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, feeling the weight of unspoken history hanging between us. "I didn't expect to be here either," I admitted, my voice tinged with a hint of regret.

He raised an eyebrow, a flash of something unreadable crossing his face. "And yet fate has a funny way of bringing people back together, doesn't it?"

I nodded, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside me - longing, apprehension, and a spark of unresolved desire. "It seems that way," I said softly.

Harry leaned forward slightly, his expression softening imperceptibly. "Tell me, Y/N," he began, his voice quieter now. "What have you been up to since we last crossed paths?"

I took a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts amidst the whirlwind of emotions his presence evoked. "Well," I started hesitantly, "I've been working here at Pleasing. It's been challenging but rewarding."

A flicker of interest sparked in his eyes. "Impressive." He paused for a moment before continuing, his tone contemplative. "And what made you seek out a meeting with me today?"

I met his gaze squarely, steeling myself against the vulnerability creeping in. "I wanted to reconnect," I confessed quietly. "To clear the air and maybe... find closure."

Harry regarded me thoughtfully for a moment before speaking again. "Closure," he echoed softly. "Perhaps that's something we both need. And Teddy?"

My eyes drop to the ground, avoiding his penetrating gaze. "It's a messy situation, but I had to leave. I've been crashing at my friend Bella's place until I can scrape together enough money for a divorce."

His voice drips with insinuation and I feel my skin prickle with unease. "Oh, how convenient," he sneers. "I knew eventually you would come to your senses, although I thought our night together would have been enough to break you free." My stomach churns at his words.

The atmosphere in the room grew heavy with unspoken tension as their words hung in the air like charged lightning bolts ready to strike.

"You had no right to think that one night could define me or my decisions." I spat.

Harry's eyes flashed with a mix of surprise and something darker as my words cut through the tension between us. "And what right did you have to enter my life again after all this time, Y/N?" he countered sharply, his jaw clenched in frustration.

I squared my shoulders, meeting his challenging gaze head-on. "I didn't come here seeking your approval, Harry," I retorted, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. "I came for myself, to find closure and move on."

He leaned forward, his expression unreadable as he studied me intently. "Closure," he repeated, the word hanging heavily between us. "Is that truly what you need? Or is there something else driving you here?"

A flicker of vulnerability crossed my features before I could stop it, and I felt exposed under his piercing scrutiny. "Maybe it's both," I admitted quietly, feeling the weight of years of unresolved emotions pressing down on me.

Harry's gaze softened slightly, a hint of understanding creeping into his eyes. "I see," he murmured, a touch of regret coloring his tone. "Perhaps we both have demons to face before we can truly move forward."

I nodded slowly, acknowledging the truth in his words. "Maybe so," I agreed, a sense of resignation settling over me. "But facing them together might be easier than doing it alone."

Silence enveloped us for a moment, broken only by the sound of our breathing mingling in the charged atmosphere of the room. Finally, Harry spoke again, his voice softer now. "I never stopped thinking about you, Y/N," he confessed quietly. "Despite everything that happened between us."

My heart clenched at his words, memories flooding back with a force that left me breathless. "I never forgot you either," I whispered, a bittersweet ache settling in my chest.

A myriad of emotions played across Harry's features - longing, regret, and something else I couldn't quite decipher. "Then perhaps we owe it to ourselves to confront the past and see where it leads us, Pleasing has a nice legal plan I can lend to you for a divorce." he suggested tentatively.

I met his gaze, seeing a glimmer of hope reflected in those intense green eyes that had once been my undoing. "Maybe we do," I agreed softly, a sense of anticipation stirring within me.

I stood outside the courtroom, my heart racing with a mix of nerves and anticipation. Today was the day I had been waiting for - the day I could finally end this marriage and start a new chapter in my life. But as I took a deep breath and stepped inside, my eyes were immediately drawn to the sight of Teddy sitting at a table with his lawyer, confidently flipping through some papers.

Next to him sat Rosie, her perfectly styled hair and expensive outfit standing out like a sore thumb among the drab courtroom surroundings. She smiled smugly in my direction as if she knew something I didn't, and suddenly all my confidence wavered.

My lawyer squeezed my hand reassuringly as we walked towards our side of the court, but I couldn't help feeling like an underdog in this battle. How had Teddy managed to go back to Rosie so quickly while still begging for me just a few weeks earlier? And how long had this been going on?

As we began the proceedings, I listened half-heartedly as their lawyer presented their case - painting me as an unfit wife who refused to support her husband's successful career. The lies stung, but I held back from speaking out.

It wasn't until it was my turn to speak that I found my voice. My lawyer had prepared a strong case for me - highlighting all of Teddy's infidelities and emotional abuse throughout our marriage. As I spoke about his controlling behavior and manipulation tactics, Rosie's smug expression faltered.

But when it was time for Teddy to speak, he denied everything with such conviction that even I started doubting myself. His words were smooth and calculated, painting me as an unstable woman who couldn't handle his success.

I felt my anger bubbling up inside me - how dare he twist the truth like this? But before I could say anything, Rosie jumped in with her own version of events. She talked about how supportive Teddy had been during their brief affair, and how I was just a jealous ex who couldn't move on.

As Rosie spoke, her words felt like sharp knives twisting in my chest. The betrayal and deceit were too much to bear, she was the one who was sleeping with my husband. I clenched my fists, trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. But then, a familiar voice cut through the tense atmosphere.

"Objection, Your Honor!"

I turned to see my lawyer standing up, his expression firm and determined. "These allegations are baseless and unsubstantiated. My client has provided ample evidence of Mr. Teddy's infidelity and emotional abuse. I request that these false claims be stricken from the record."

The judge nodded solemnly, looking at Teddy and Rosie with a steely gaze. "I will not tolerate false accusations in my courtroom. Stick to the facts."

Teddy shifted uncomfortably in his seat, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. Rosie, on the other hand, remained composed, a smug smile playing on her lips.

"I have evidence that will prove my client's case, Your Honor," she declared confidently. "I request permission to present it."

The judge nodded again, signaling for Rosie to proceed. She stood up gracefully, producing a stack of papers from her briefcase.

"These documents show that Mr. Teddy was out of town on the dates in question," she began, flipping through the pages with ease. "He could not have been at the locations alleged by Mrs. Y/N."

I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Could it be true? Had I been mistaken all along? Her proof was just texts from Teddy to her saying he was out of town. Which proves nothing, if anything it was more incriminating.

But then, just as doubt started to creep in, a sudden realization hit me like a bolt of lightning.

"Your Honor," I interrupted, my voice trembling but resolute. "I have proof that Mr. Teddy and Ms. Rosie colluded to fabricate alibis and deceive me. They were working together against me all along."

The courtroom fell into stunned silence as I presented the evidence that exposed their treachery. Teddy's face drained of color, while Rosie's mask of composure finally cracked.

"I-I can explain," Teddy stammered, but it was too late.

The judge slammed his gavel down with finality. "Case closed. Divorce granted in favor of Mrs. Y/N. You are to pay her a monthly settlement of alimony."

As I walked out of the courtroom, a weight lifted off my shoulders. It was finally over - the lies, the betrayal, the manipulation. I could start anew with a sense of freedom and clarity.

And as I glanced back one last time at Teddy and Rosie, their faces twisted with defeat, I knew that justice had been served. 

Waiting outside of the courtroom was Harry with a grin, he did a sassy wave to Rosie and Teddy.

"Congratulations, Y/N," Harry said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and kissing the top of my forehead. "You did it."

I couldn't help but smile, feeling a sense of relief and satisfaction wash over me. "I couldn't have done it without you, Harry. Thank you for everything."

"Always, love," he replied with a gentle smile.

As we walked out of the courthouse hand in hand, I couldn't help but feel grateful for having Harry by my side. 

"I'm so glad this is all over," I said with a sigh, leaning into him as we reached his car.

"Yeah, me too," he agreed, unlocking the door and helping me inside before making his way to the driver's seat.

As we drove away from the courthouse, I couldn't help but feel a sense of closure. My marriage may have ended in betrayal and deceit but now I was free to move on and start over.

"So what's next for you?" Harry asked as we drove through the city streets.

“ I think we should celebrate.” I looked at him with a playful smile.

"Celebrate?" Harry raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "And what did you have in mind for this celebration, Mrs. Y/N?"

I grinned mischievously, leaning over to gently tap his knee. "Oh, nothing too wild. Maybe just a quiet dinner for two at a cozy little bistro."

"A quiet dinner, hmm?" Harry's smirk grew wider. "And what about later, when we're no longer 'quiet'? Any ideas for that celebration?"

"Well," I purred, eyeing him up and down playfully. "That all depends on how good of a date you turn out to be."

"I'll have you know," he countered confidently, "that I'm an excellent date."

"Oh really? And what sort of things do excellent dates do to impress their partners?" I challenged him with a teasing glint in my eye.

Harry chuckled softly before leaning closer to me. "I believe the key to impressing you, love," he whispered against my ear, sending shivers down my spine, "lies somewhere between your pasta and your dessert."

"And exactly how do you plan on pulling that off?" I asked skeptically but with undeniable curiosity piqued within me. 

"Oh," he smirked wickedly as he brushed a strand of hair away from my face. "I'm sure I can come up with something...tasty."

We arrived at the bistro and Harry led me inside, his hand resting on my lower back. The smell of freshly baked bread and spices filled my nostrils as we were greeted by the friendly hostess. She guided us to a cozy booth in the corner of the restaurant before handing us each a menu.

As we perused through the options, I couldn't help but feel grateful for this moment with Harry. Despite the chaos that had been my life recently, he was there to make me smile and forget about all my worries. I was grateful to be able to be like this with him.

"You know," Harry said, breaking the comfortable silence between us, "I haven't had a proper date night in ages."

I smiled at him. Soon after the waiter came to take our orders and after much deliberation, we settled on sharing a few appetizers and ordering our own entrees. As we waited for our food to arrive, Harry reached across the table to take hold of my hand.

"I'm proud of you," he said sincerely, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. "You handled everything with grace and strength."

I felt tears welling up in my eyes at his words. It meant so much to have Harry's support and encouragement through everything I had been going through.

"Thank you," I replied softly, unable to find any other words to express how much his words meant to me.

Our food arrived shortly after and we dug into our dishes with enthusiasm. We laughed and joked as we shared bites of each other's meals, savoring every moment together.

After dinner, Harry insisted on treating me to dessert at a nearby ice cream shop. We walked through the bustling streets hand in hand, enjoying each other's company in the warm summer night.

As we sat on a bench outside the shop, enjoying our ice cream. 

My voice trembles as I stare at Harry, regret and guilt weighing heavily on my chest. "I should've left Teddy that night after the motel," I confess, tears welling up in my eyes. "But I was scared. Scared of losing my residency, scared of facing my family's disappointment. I thought I could endure it for a while longer, or that he would be the one to leave first." My words choke in my throat, coming out as a desperate plea for forgiveness.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," I continue, my voice shaking. "I never meant to hurt you or lead you on. I was just...lost and confused."

Harry's expression softens as he takes in my words. He reaches out to brush away a tear that falls from my eye.

"You don't have to apologize, love," he says gently. "I understand why you stayed with him. But I wish you had told me sooner."

The guilt bubbles up inside of me, threatening to drown me in its heavy weight. How could I have been so blind and selfish? How could I have hurt someone who cared?

"I'll make it right, Harry," I promise him, wiping away the tears from my cheeks.

Harry's eyes light up with hope as he grasps my hand tightly.

"We'll face this together," he says firmly, determination evident in his voice.

And just like that, the burden on my shoulders feels a little bit lighter knowing that I have Harry by my side.

"It's okay," he whispers soothingly, kissing the top of my head. "You did the right thing.”

We finish our ice cream in comfortable silence before heading back to Harry's flat.

"Can I ask you something?" I say, breaking the silence.

"Of course," Harry replies, squeezing my hand reassuringly.

"Why did you never tell me your feelings before?" I ask, feeling a little hesitant.

Harry pauses for a moment before answering. "I didn't want to pressure you or make things awkward between us," he admits. "I wanted you to be happy and if that meant staying with Teddy, then I accepted it. So I left, I couldn’t see you in that situation."

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I realize just how selfless and understanding Harry has always been despite his hardened appearence. He truly cares.

"I'm sorry for being so blind," I say softly.

"It's okay," Harry reassures me. "We all make mistakes."

My heart was pounding as we entered the safety of his flat, my senses heightened by the lingering scent of his cologne. Our fingers traced each other's as he deftly made two cups of steaming tea, every touch sending sparks dancing up my arm.

"Would you like a touch of cream?" Harry asked seductively, a teasing smile playing along his lips. His sultry voice sent trepidating waves through me, igniting an insatiable desire that twisted in my belly.

The sight of him leaning casually against the kitchen counter, bathed in soft light, stirred a primal need within me. I watched as he poured a dash of cream into my cup. The way it swirled and mingled with the dark liquid mirrored our own dance - two intricate beings melding to form something far more tantalizing. 

"Thank you," I murmured, accepting the warm mug from his hand. My fingers brushed against his, eliciting a delicate shiver that rippled down my spine. "I couldn't have asked for anyone better..."

As we navigated our way towards the plush sofa, our bodies brushed together, the heat between us flaring like a bonfire on a cold night. The taste of our shared dinner still lingered on our tongues as we sipped on our teas; notes of cocoa and warm spices cascading over our taste buds.

He leaned back onto the couch, pulling me with him until I was nestled comfortably against his side. A silence fell upon us as we enjoyed our drinks; comfortable and yet teeming with an unspoken promise of what was to come.

"There's no rush," Harry purred into my ear, allowing his fingers to trace lazy circles around my wrist. His hot breath fanned out across my heated skin, setting off tremors beneath my flesh. "Let's just enjoy this moment."

His words washed over me like scalding water, igniting a yearning that threatened to consume us both. I finished my tea swiftly, setting the empty cup on the coffee table before turning back to Harry.

"Harry," I breathed out, staring into his deep emerald eyes. They were dark with desire, a mirror of my own want. "I want you...now."

With those words, our evening took on an entirely new flavor - one more intimate and fervently carnal than the most decadent dessert. And as I let go of all inhibitions and allowed myself to drown in Harry's love- the guilt and fear felt like distant memories.

Where there had been tears earlier now blossomed laughter and sighs of pleasure, echoing off the walls of Harry's flat. The heat between us couldn't be contained within mere cups of tea. It was a passionate flame that ignited every sense, searing through every inch of our bodies as we began to explore each other with newfound fervor and desperation.

The room seemed to shrink as my words echoed around us. I could feel myself growing wetter by the second, my heart pounding in anticipation of what was to come. Without another word, he stood up and pulled me close, our bodies pressing tightly against each other.

My hands found their way to his strong shoulders, digging into his skin as he claimed my lips once more. I moaned deeply into the kiss, tasting the tea we just drank on his tongue as he explored every inch of my mouth. His hands traveled down my back, over my ass cheeks, until they reached the hem of my dress.

I gasped as he lifted me off the ground with ease, carrying me towards the bedroom. My legs wrapped tightly around his waist, pulling him closer still. As we entered the room he kicked the door shut behind us, locking us in together.

As he backed me towards the bed, his cock growing hard, he paused to look down at me. His eyes dark and hungry as he took in the scene laid out before him. "You look so fucking sexy like this," he growled out, his voice rough with desire. I moaned in response, my fingers curling into the sheets beneath us as he lowered me onto the mattress.

His lips trailed hot kisses down my jawline and across my collarbone before moving southward. He nipped at my sensitive flesh while his hands explored every inch of my body, tracing patterns around my tits through the lace fabric of my bra. My breath hitched as his warm mouth hovered over my nipples, making them stand at attention.

"Please," I whispered, arching into him as he teased one of my hardened nubs between his fingers and thumb. His tongue circled around it before finally drawing it into his mouth, sucking on it with such force that I cried out in pleasure.

He pulled away slightly, looking down at me with a smirk that made my stomach do flips. "I'm going to fuck you so good, baby girl." His eyes bore into mine as he slowly undid his pants, revealing his already hard cock straining against his boxers. My mouth watered at the sight of him; all 8 inches of thickness glistening with pre-cum that reflected the light in the room.

I reached up to grab his shirt, pulling him down towards me as I wrapped my legs around his waist again. He groaned into the kiss, deepening it as he lowered himself onto the bed between my spread legs. His teeth grazed against my bottom lip before trailing hot kisses down my neck and chest.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath as he reached behind me to undo the clasp holding together my bra. It fell away from me revealing puckered nipples begging for attention which he eagerly obliged by taking one into his mouth while pinching the other between two fingers causing tiny whimpers to escape from deep within me. 

His lips trailed down my stomach, stopping momentarily to press kisses to my belly button before continuing their journey south. I shivered with anticipation as his fingers hooked into the sides of my lace panties, pulling them down and off of me in one swift motion.

He took a moment to admire me, spread out before him, completely exposed and vulnerable. His gaze traveled over every inch of me, causing goosebumps to rise on my skin.

"God, you're beautiful," he murmured, before diving back in between my legs. His tongue flicked against my clit sending shockwaves of pleasure through me. I gripped onto the sheets tighter as he continued to tease and lick at my most sensitive spot.

I could feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge, his expert mouth bringing me to the brink. Just when I thought I couldn't take it any longer, he pulled away with a smirk on his face.

"Not yet," he said huskily, crawling back up towards me. He kissed me hard on the lips while positioning himself between my legs. I felt his tip brush against my entrance and I lifted my hips in response.

The room around us was hazy from the scent of our arousal, and I couldn't help but feel like I was in a dream as he continued to tease me. With every lick and nip, his touch sent shockwaves of pleasure through me. My body arched off the bed in response to his expert ministrations, my breasts pressed against his strong chest.

"You taste so fucking good," he groaned, his voice dark and rough with need. His hands slid up my thighs, teasingly close to my aching desire before moving away again. It was driving me crazy!

"Please," I begged him. "I can't take much more."

He chuckled deep in his throat, the sound sending shivers down my spine. "Oh, you think you can handle me?" He leaned down and flicked his tongue gently over my clitoris again, making me gasp in surprise at the intense sensation. "We'll see about that."

I couldn't believe how turned on I was by his dominance. As he continued to tease me, I imagined what it would be like to fully submit to him—to let him take control of my body and pleasure me however he saw fit. It was terrifying yet exhilarating all at once.

It felt like hours (or maybe just minutes?) before he finally eased himself into me, filling me up with his thick cock. I gasped at the sudden intrusion but moaned in delight as he began to move slowly inside me. Every thrust sent violent shudders through my body as we found our rhythm together—his hard and demanding possessions; mine willingly given submission underneath him amidst silk pillows and warm blankets scattered across the sheets beneath us.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into me, wanting more, needing more. His hands gripped onto my hips, holding me in place as he continued to thrust into me with increasing speed and force.

I could feel the pleasure building inside of me, growing and swelling until it was almost unbearable. My nails dug into his back as I cried out his name, consumed by the intensity of our union.

He leaned down and captured my lips in a fiery kiss that only added fuel to the fire burning between us. Our bodies moved together in perfect synchronization, reaching higher levels of ecstasy with each passing moment.

The bed rocked beneath us as we gave into pure primal desire. He was an unstoppable force, taking everything from me and giving it back tenfold.

"Fuck," he groaned against my lips, his voice thick with need. "You're so tight."

"Oh, God," I moaned, my toes curling against the sheets. "Don't stop."

He didn't listen to me of course; instead, he continued to pound into me relentlessly, driving me towards the edge again and again until I couldn't take it anymore. My orgasm crashed over me like a tidal wave, consuming every ounce of my being and leaving me shaking in its wake. He followed close behind with a muffled groan as he spilled himself inside of me. He collapsed on top of me, both of us gasping for breath as we came down from our high.

We lay there tangled together for a few moments before he rolled off of me onto his side. He pulled me against him, his arm wrapped tightly around my waist.

"Wow," I finally managed to say.

We lay there panting for several minutes afterward, our heartbeats echoing in our ears above everything else around us.

Finally, he disentangled himself from me and collapsed next to me on the bed, both of us spent and covered in a sheen of sweat.

"Fuck," he breathed out as he ran a hand through his damp hair.

"That was..." I trailed off unable to find the words to describe the intensity of our union.

He let out a bitter, exhausted chuckle laced with satisfaction. "I swore I'd never marry again, but if this is what life could be like on a regular basis, I may have to reconsider," he muttered through gritted teeth. The thought of committing himself again brought a surge of both fear and longing, but for the first time in years, he felt alive.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the landscape, he turned to me with a mix of vulnerability and determination in his eyes. "I never thought I'd find someone who could make me question my own convictions," he said softly, reaching out to gently touch my hand.

I looked back at him, her own eyes filled with understanding and a hint of mischief. "Maybe it's time to rewrite those old promises," I suggested, a smile playing on my lips.

A sense of peace settled over him as he realized that maybe, just maybe, he was ready to take a chance on love once more. With a hopeful heart and a newfound sense of purpose, he whispered, "Maybe it is." 

As the last rays of sunlight slipped beneath the horizon, their eyes locked and they both felt an electric current surge through their bodies. It was a sign that their journey together was just starting and would be filled with endless twists and turns, but they were ready for the challenge.

#harry styles #harry styles au #harrystylesau #harry styles fanfiction #harrystylesfanfic #harrystylesfanfiction #harry styles masterlist #harry styles mature #harrystylessmut #harry styles smut #one direction #harry styles x reader #hs live #harry styles imagine #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harrystylesoneshot #harrystylesmsut #harry styles fic #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #otra tour #ceo!harry #ceorry #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry edward styles

[aphroditelovesu]

The Lost Queen - XIII

— summary: You woke up near a military camp without remembering how and why you got there, you didn’t understand why they were dressed like ancient Greeks, all you knew was that you weren’t safe and you needed to get out of that place as soon as possible. Too bad for you that you found yourself attracting unwanted attention from the Macedonian King and he won’t let you go so easily.

— genre: yandere, dark!au.

— warnings: time travel, obsessive and possessive behavior, murder, mention of torture, kidnapping, angst, fluffy (very rarely), dub-con, possibly smut.

— pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader, yandere!generals x female!reader.

— word count: 3,325.

— tag list: @devils-blackrose, @faerykingdom, @hadesnewpersephone, @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 , @kadu-5607, @zoleea-exultant, @borntoexplore11-blog, @silmawensgarden.

— the lost queen series masterlist.

Chapter 13

Time turned into an indistinct blur, while your breath seemed to freeze in the air. Before you, the man emanated an intimidating aura, his presence filling the small space of the tent with palpable tension. Every detail of his face, sculpted by shadow and dancing light, seemed like a macabre work of art, a mixture of mystery and imminent danger. His dark eyes, deep and penetrating, held yours as if they had the power to probe your soul. And you, paralyzed in front of this spectrum of strength and mystery, could barely utter a single word.

"You look like you've seen a ghost." He chuckled, watching you with interest shining in his dark eyes. Those words, tinged with a touch of humor, echoed in your ears like a distant echo of a distorted reality. Was he mocking you?

"It's because I'm seeing one." You scoffed, your tone laced with disdain as you stared at him firmly, barely able to contain the fear from spreading through your body. He clicked his tongue in disgust at your tone.

The man looked inside the tent, his interest piqued by the surrounding environment. "You look good." He commented, his voice carrying a casual tone, but his expression still enigmatic and impenetrable.

"Why did you bring me here?" You finally asked, your fists clenching as you stared at the man with disgust and a slight fear shining in your gaze.

"All in good time, my dear." He hummed in response, his relaxed tone contrasting with the tension that hovered between you. He approached you, his imposing presence filling the space between you as you struggled to maintain your composure in the face of the uncertainty of what would come next.

"Do not play with me." You spat, your voice filled with suspicion and a hint of suppressed anger.

He arched an eyebrow, a subtle smile dancing on his lips.

"I'm not." He replied seriously, his dark eyes boring into yours with piercing intensity, "I'm not messing with you, sweet girl. Everything I've done has a purpose." His voice echoed in the tent, filled with a conviction you struggled to understand, as the mystery around you seemed to deepen even further.

You felt even more suspicious and uncomfortable with the man's words.

Who was he? Or rather, what was he?

"Who are you?" You finally asked, your jaw clenched in a mix of nervousness and defiance.

"I have several names." He purred in response, a chilling sensation running down your spine as he circled around you like a wary predator, "But you can call me Aslan for now."

Aslan? For now? The name echoed in your mind, loaded with a meaning that you could barely begin to understand.

"What do you want with me?" You frowned, your voice thick with tension and distrust.

“What I want doesn't matter, but what you want does.” He replied calmly, his eyes fixed on yours with an intensity that made you uncomfortable.

What do you want?

"Are you mocking me?" You rolled your eyes, frustrated with his evasive answers, "I'm not in the mood for jokes, Aslan." Your words were spoken firmly, a mixture of irritation and determination evident in your voice. You were going to get answers one way or another.

He laughed darkly, and involuntarily, a chill ran down your spine at the laugh that escaped the man's lips.

"Be patient, my dear. I'll explain everything to you, but for now..." He stopped talking when he heard a commotion outside your tent.

''Finish speaking.'' You ordered, your voice firm and determined, demanding answers in the face of the growing intrigue and urgency of the situation.

He smiled, a mysterious gleam dancing in his eyes, "You're learning to act like a Queen."

You looked him straight into his dark eyes, ''I am one.'' Your statement was delivered with unwavering confidence, your identity and position clearly defined, even amidst the confusion and uncertainty that surrounded you.

You were a Queen. You were the Queen of Macedonia, and as strange as that title still sounded in your ears, it felt right when it left your lips.

Aslan smiled widely, his features softening with the confidence of your words, ''You are.'' He confirmed, his voice filled with respect and recognition, as he slowly headed towards the flap of the tent.

''Where are you going? We're not done talking!'' Your words came out in a rush, your gaze narrowing with each step he took towards the exit.

''Duty calls me.'' He sang, his voice filled with mystery and promise, ''But I'll be back soon. We have plenty of time to talk, (Y/N).'' Aslan bowed slightly and left before you could utter another word.

''Aslan...'' You uttered his name, or one of his names in this case, and was strangely pleased with the sweet way it fell from your lips. Why did he look so familiar? Your fingers gripped the hem of your traditional Persian dress, your nails digging into the soft fabric.

You would have the answers soon, you were sure of that. But for now, there was something more pressing to deal with. You needed to meet Darius in person, a meeting that promised to be crucial to your future.

Darius's tent was exactly as you expected it to be: extravagant. Even in the middle of a war camp, the Persian King did not give up his luxuries and comforts.

As you observed the opulence around him, you couldn't help but reflect on how that very extravagance may have been one of the reasons for Darius' downfall. His excessive indulgence and disconnection from the reality of the challenges he faced as a leader may have weakened his rule and undermined his authority among his people and his armies. Vanity and ostentation can be double-edged weapons, especially in times of conflict and political instability.

As you carefully observed Darius and a man who resembled him, your eyes wandered to the king, whose luxurious attire made it clear that he was Darius. You took in every feature of his features: his dark skin glowing in the golden light of the fire, his long black beard that complemented his face firmly. A faint smile curved his lips as you bowed respectfully before him, and his dark eyes softened slightly.

The similarity between Darius' imposing presence and Alexander's was remarkable, and you couldn't help but find it intriguing. Both possessed an enviable charisma, capable of attracting loyal followers and soldiers, even in the face of defeat and adversity. It was as if an aura of authority and leadership surrounded them, inspiring admiration and respect wherever they went. They were similar in that way.

Perhaps it was this magnetic charisma that allowed Darius to maintain a large number of loyal followers and soldiers, even after suffering defeats in battle. His commanding presence and ability to inspire confidence may have been crucial factors in maintaining his power and influence despite the challenges he faced. That was something admirable, and even though he was technically your enemy, you couldn't help but admire those traits.

''It's a pleasure to meet you in person.'' Darius's deep, calming voice sounded in your ears and you nodded slowly, hiding any possible nervousness. He seemed to know how to speak greek and that made you calmer.

"I say the same," You replied calmly, following Darius' lead and settling into a chair reserved for you, "Though it was unpleasant circumstances we found ourselves in." You couldn't help but poke him lightly, after all, he had kidnapped you. The tension between you was palpable, but you were determined to maintain diplomatic composure. You needed to ensure your safety above all else, especially now that you were pregnant.

Instinctively, your hand found its way to your belly, as if trying to protect the baby growing inside you. Darius's gaze followed the movement and rested on your belly, understanding the source of your apprehension.

"Nothing will happen to you or your child." He assured you calmly, his words filled with sincerity and empathy. A feeling of relief spread through you at his assurance, even though tension still permeated the air around you.

The presence of the man who resembled Darius, with malice shining in his eyes, further heightened your sense of unease. As Darius cleared his throat and called a name in Persian that you vaguely recognized as Bagoas, you knew you were looking at an intriguing historical character.

You knew Bagoas's name from contemporary records, which described him as a eunuch who had been the lover of both Darius and Alexander after the conquest of Persia. Your frown at this information was inevitable, and you stared at him as he entered the tent, carrying a jug of wine. Your eyes followed his every movement as he poured the liquid into three cups, and you couldn't help but notice the subtle glance he threw your way before disappearing with silent steps.

Darius took a sip of his wine and the other man did the same. Meanwhile, the wine in front of you remained untouched, as you knew that drinking alcohol during pregnancy was not recommended at all.

The other man finally decided to speak, his rough voice echoing in the tent. The greek that came from his lips was a little difficult to understand, but his words were clear, "We brought you here to negotiate."

Darius stared at the man disapprovingly and sighed, ''That's Bessus.''

Bessus. Uh-huh. This was bad. You knew this man and didn't trust him at all and it seemed like even Darius didn't trust him.

''To negotiate what?'' You raised your eyebrows.

''In exchange for your safety and life, Alexander must abandon the war and return home.'' Bessus replied, drinking his wine with great enthusiasm. You looked at him with disdain evident in your eyes. Did they really think Alexander would give up so easily? They will be fools then.

The idea that Alexander would give up so easily was absurd, and those who believed it were mistaken. Alexander was a formidable leader, determined to pursue his goals with fierce determination, and you knew he would never abandon the war without fighting until his last breath. He would rather die fighting than return as a coward.

"Alexander won't give up." You replied firmly, your voice thick with conviction, "He never will."

Bessus's expression was disdainful as he arched his eyebrow, "Not even for his beloved pregnant wife?"

You fought the urge to punch Bessus at his taunts and replied dryly, "Alexander will destroy the world for me, and you made a huge mistake by bringing me here."

There was a certain arrogance in your voice, but it was the truth. You knew the destructive power Alexander was capable of inflicting when provoked, and those who dared to defy him were playing with fire.

You remembered the stories about what he did to his enemies, to those who dared to cross his path or take what was his. His revenge was swift and merciless, sending a clear message to all those who dared defy him: there was no mercy for traitors and invaders. Darius and Bessus were in hot water when they decided to kidnap you.

''Let's talk, shall we?'' Darius interrupted the conversation between you and Bessus, sensing the animosity between you.

You nodded, even though you knew this conversation wouldn't get you anywhere. Their situation was complicated, and it seemed like they were about to face the consequences of their actions.

Every action has a reaction, right?

"My wife is not here?" Alexander's voice was low, but his fury resonated clearly in every word, his clenched fists denoting his intense emotion.

The generals present, Hephaestion and Ptolemy, seemed worried and fearful of the king's wrath. Finally, Hephaestion decided to take the lead, his expression carefully controlled to avoid further provoking Alexander's explosive reaction.

"She is not here." He said with the greatest caution he could have at that moment, his words chosen precisely to convey the truth without triggering an even more violent reaction from the King. The tension in the air was palpable, as everyone awaited Alexander's next response and the consequences that could follow.

"She's not here.'' Alexander repeated, his voice sounding louder, reverberating through the room. Ptolemy swallowed hard, feeling the weight of responsibility in deciding to speak,

"(Y/N)'s guards said they didn't find her in her tent when they woke up.'' He stated, holding Alexander's menacing gaze as long as he could, his expression showing both concern and determination.

Finally, the King snapped. His fists hit the poor makeshift table hard, causing it to fall with a deafening crash. Hephaestion fought the urge to shudder at Alexander's display of fury.

"So where is she?" Alexander asked, his voice filled with anger and despair, staring intensely at his two friends, "WHERE IS SHE?" The last question was shouted, echoing off the walls of the room and reverberating in the minds of everyone present. The tension reached its peak, as everyone awaited the answer with a mixture of apprehension and fear for what could happen next.

"W-We don't know!" Ptolemy was quick to say, fearing for his life, his words flowing in a torrent of fear. "We've done a thorough search of the entire camp and surrounding area, but there's no trace of her. It's as if she's disappeared."

"People don't disappear out of thin air." Alexander sneered, his penetrating and suspicious gaze scanning every detail of his generals' faces. His blue eye narrowed, emanating an intensity that made it clear he would not accept evasive answers or excuses.

Hephaestion decided to speak to try to help calm his friend, aware of the urgency of providing any information that could help or worsen the situation.

"According to the guards stationed at her tent, they were knocked out and the Queen was gone." He reported, his voice firm but filled with concern.

Alexander looked his friend in the eyes, his expression a mixture of anger and grim determination, "Who took her?" His question was uttered with increasing urgency, indicating that he would not rest until he found answers and brought his wife back safely.

Ptolemy and Hephaestion exchanged a heavy look of mutual significance. They knew Alexander wouldn't take this information very well. Betrayal was never something he dealt with easily, especially when it came from such a dear friend.

Taking a deep breath and mentally preparing himself for the coming storm, Hephaestion took the lead once again.

"Perdiccas." He said, his voice heavy with the weight of revelation as he faced Alexander's furious gaze. The words hung in the air, loaded with inevitable consequences, while everyone awaited the King's explosive reaction to the betrayal of one of his closest confidants.

"Perdiccas.'' Alexander repeated the name carefully, feeling a bitter taste of betrayal in his mouth.

Perdiccas.

His childhood friend, his trusted general, now revealed himself as the traitor who had kidnapped his wife. The reality of the situation hit Alexander with devastating force, a mixture of disbelief and fury boiling inside him. How could someone he trusted so deeply betray like this?

The feeling of betrayal pierced his heart like a sharp blade, leaving him furious and determined to carry out the worst punishment, torture known to man.

The fury building inside Alexander was like an uncontrolled hurricane, a primal force that threatened to devour everything in its path. His vision turned red, his mind flooded with images of violence and revenge. All he could see was a pool of blood and a cruelly mutilated body in the middle of it. Perdiccas' body.

He wanted revenge, revenge as brutal and painful as the betrayal he had experienced. The pain of being betrayed like that tore him apart, consuming him with an overwhelming rage that threatened to swallow him whole.

The idea of killing Perdiccas slowly and painfully took root in his mind like an obsession. He imagined every macabre detail, every torment he would inflict on the traitor, fueled by the relentless thirst to recover what belonged to him and the unbearable pain of betrayal.

With a herculean effort to contain his burning fury, Alexander finally managed to muster the strength to ask, "Where did he take her?"

"We don't know yet." Ptolemy replied, his eyes fixed on Alexander as he carefully assessed the King's reaction.

The answer seemed to echo in the room, filled with tension and uncertainty. Alexander was strangely restrained, his expression too controlled for the tastes of those present. This was worrying. Ptolemy and Hephaestion exchanged a quick glance, sharing their silent apprehension at what might come next. The approaching storm was invisible, but the tension in the air was palpable, foreshadowing a series of events that could change the course of history.

With palpable determination, Alexander finally made a decision. He stared at the broken table, his eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and resolve.

"Send all available men to search for any possible information." He ordered firmly, "Spread the news and whoever brings me information about my wife's whereabouts will receive a generous reward."

Ptolemy nodded in understanding and hurriedly left the tent, leaving Hephaestion and Alexander alone in the silent wreckage. The tension in the air was almost palpable, but beneath this layer of anger and worry, there was an unwavering determination that guided Alexander's every action. He was determined to find his wife, no matter the cost.

Hephaestion carefully approached Alexander, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Alexander did not react immediately, his mind still absorbed in turbulent and bloody thoughts.

"Alexander?" Hephaestion's voice sounded gentle and calming, seeking to draw his friend's attention to the present.

"Hephaestion," Alexander replied carefully, his voice filled with determination and a focused intensity, "I want Perdiccas to be brought to me alive."

Hephaestion nodded silently, even though he knew Alexander wasn't looking directly at him. He perfectly understood the implicit meaning behind the order to bring Perdiccas alive.

Even without being asked, Alexander continued, his voice filled with determination and a calculated coldness, "I want to interrogate him personally, ask him why he betrayed me and stole my wife. And then, personally, I will torture him and kill him." The words were delivered with icy calm, but there was no doubt that each one carried a deadly weight.

Alexander's determination was unwavering, his mind focused on just one goal: getting his wife back, no matter the cost. He was willing to throw all of his power and destructive force against any obstacle that he dared to stand in his way.

Cities would fall, armies would be torn to pieces, and populations would be subjugated. Men would be killed, while women and children would be taken into slavery, all in the name of desperately searching for his beloved Queen. Alexander did not care about the human or moral cost of his actions; his fiery fury eclipsed any consideration of compassion or mercy.

The entire world would tremble at Alexander's wrath, for he was determined to leave a trail of destruction in his wake towards those who dared to defy him and take away what was most precious to him. His journey would be marked by blood, pain and suffering, but he would not rest until his wife was safe in his arms again, no matter what the cost.

He would recover his Lost Queen.

— lady l: And things get more and more complicated for the Persians, don't they? Poor things, they thought it was a good idea to steal a yandere's wife. There wasn't one to warn you, right?

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I changed my writing style a little and I hope this pleases you. Feel free to send your feedback and I'll see you in the next chapter! Love you all!! ❤️

#the lost queen #tq #yandere history #history #alexander the great x reader #yandere alexander the great #yandere alexander the great x reader #fanfic #long fic #yandere au #yandere historical characters

[transmascaraa]

hi its 🍓 anon, can I request comfort with Gaming, Bennett, Scaramouche, Cyno, and Tighnari?

I accidentally hurt my cat's leg maybe like 20 minutes ago from when this is in your inbox but I've honestly just been crying and curling up on the ground where she's laying underneath my desk. I feel awful even though it's an accident ☹️

I'm hoping she's okay and it's not bad but I'm scared I permanently gave her a limp or that she will hate me and no longer want to be around me anymore

multiple characters headcannons!

you accidentally hurt your pet.

characters: gaming, bennett, wanderer, cyno, tighnari x gn!reader

author's note: hi 🍓anon i'm sorry i'm doing this req so late but writer's block is there for some reason🤷‍♂️ I HOPE YOUR CAT IS OKAY NOW THO AND THAT SHE STILL LOVES YOU IK HOW IT IS😭 anyways i decided to write this cuz i was bored lmfao enjoyyyy🔥🔥

♡ Gaming

-definetly gets worried after he sees you on the ground crying like that.

-"no... my love, what's wrong? you can talk to me, okay?"

-all while the pet was in the corner of the room, unphased.

-if left the room soon enough, but that was unnoticed by gaming.

-after you did your best at explaining the situation to him, he understood what you meant.

-a bit confused as to why were you thag worried about it, but he reassured you that your pet was fine and that they most probably forgive you.

-he's going to cuddle the pet with you to help you "apologize" to it.

-with gaming there, your pet will forget about what happened and just cuddle with the two of you there like nothing ever happened<3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

⑅ Bennett

-now, he's hurt a fair share of animals in his life due to his unluckiness.

-and he always feels really bad for them afterwards, so he would understand after you vent to him about it.

-"hmm... yeah... i get it.."

-but him, knowing that you're not as unlucky as he is, he reassures you that your pet is okay and still loves you.

-he'll prove it to you too.

-but first he would first make you take your mind off of it for a bit.

-and then feed the pet together as some parents to their 3yo child.

-now, speaking of him proving it to you, he'll just let you pet it and let it slowly lean into your gentle caressing of it.

-the only time he was lucky in his life was when he got to be with you.

-you just looked to precious being happy that your pet has forgiven you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✧ Wanderer

-he just doesn't get it.

-why the hell are you rolling on the floor, crying, because you THINK you hurt your pet?

-"but are you sure you've actually hurt it? y'know, if you actually did, then its anger is justified-"

-until you started crying more.

-"b-but you probably didn't. so don't worry. you'll be fine, just like that like creature you call your pet."

-i mean you stopped crying so it was something????

-you'll have to beg him to cuddle you w your pet but eventually you'll convince him.

-the funny part was the fact that the pet was just more fond of wanderer, rather than you, despite forgiving you for anything and everything.

-for some unknown reasons, all animals like him, really.

-(if your pet is an aranara in some type of this teyvat au then it's even cuter)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

๑ Cyno

-he doesn't react much, really.

-not like alhaitham, but just more of his canon personality when he's not making dad jokes.

-i mean if anything, he's confused, but yeah.

-he just stares you on the floor.

-"what happened?"

-in the most monotone voice ever.

-and then after he understands why you're doing all of that, he shows a bit more of emotion.

-hardly spotted, but it's there.

-"well... i know something that can improve your mood. what do you call a-"

-you just give him a death stare. he doesn't continue speaking from there.

-afterwards, you'll feel the little cutie together and see that it's totally fine!

-you will get to hear the joke he was meaning to say sometime later, now he just doesn't wanna irritate you, he feels as if you need happiness now, not his dumb dad jokes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✿⁠ Tighnari

-he genuinely gets worried.

-but worried in a mom way.

-"you're crying because of something you THINK? are you hearing yourself right now?"

-he's sassy, even when genuinely concerned.

-now, after telling you to take a few deep breaths, calm down, and drink a glass of water, he sits you down and lets you explain everything in great detail.

-then he brings the pet to the both of you, while he checks the pet for any scars, but they fortunately aren't there!

-you get incredibly happy and hug both tighnari and the pet, but he still doesn't understand if ut was worth the crying on the floor.

-your pet literally still loved you.

-but at least he was happy to help.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

okay i think this wasn't that bad

i really like cyno's and tighnari's tho

but this was fun to write overall tbh lol

| 🍓anon | @mariaace <3

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin impact headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #gaming x reader #gaming x you #tighnari x you #tighnari x reader #bennett x reader #bennett x you #cyno x reader #cyno x you #wanderer x you #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin comfort #genshin impact comfort #gaming comfort #wanderer comfort #scaramouche comfort #cyno comfort #tighnari comfort #bennett comfort

[justagamerandaweeb]

Peer Pressure - Modern AU! Gyutaro x Reader

There isn't a lot of writing for this sexy MF. And seeing that I've only made a smut with this dude once, why not give him another one?

Art by @rasshu-benaio, divider by @mikeykuns, And MDNI banner by @roseschoices

The following smut includes: sex (duh), choking, blowjob, cum swallowing, rough sex, usage of aphrodisiacs, drugged sex, dry humping, doggystyle, missionary, nipple sucking, slight degradation, a lot of f-bombs (thanks to Gyutaro's vocab), female ejaculation, and ass smacking.

Gyutaro puts his car in park as he looks at you and says, "I can't believe you dragged me to be here." You pat his arm as you responded to him, "Come on, it'll be fun! Besides, you need to get out more." You unbuckled the seatbelt, and got out of the car. "Yeah, if you consider talking to people you don't know, getting drunk, and regretting your choices the next day fun."

"And that, my friend, is the best part about college parties." You said, having a puerile smile on your face. He scoffs as he follows you to the front door of the big house that was owned by Michikatsu, and rung the doorbell. You both waited for the door open, and then heard the sound of the lockset unlocking, and the door opened.

It was Kaigaku who opened the door, wearing a onyx colored jacket with a black shirt under it and black ripped jeans. "Oh shit, hey guys! I didn't think you two would show up." He said, a little stupefied that you both actually came. "That's what I had in mind, but this rat insisted that we go." He said, pointing directly down at you.

"Hey! You hush, you praying mantis! All you do is stay in your dorm and play video games! You clearly don't have anything better to do." You clapped back at him, unaware that he was about to slap you on the back of your head. Kaigaku chuckles as he comments, "Well, at least y'all here now. Come inside, we got food, drinks, and some games we're about to play." He walked upstairs as Gyutaro smacked your head.

You held the back of your head as you exclaimed, "Ow! What was that for!?" He looks at you as he goaded, "That's for calling me a praying mantis." And smacks your rear, making you yelp. "Let's get this party over with so I can go back to my dorm." And went inside. You grumbled as you had no choice but to follow him.

Once they both made it upstairs, they were taken aback by how many people were there. Give or take, you both expected the Hantengu brothers, Douma, Hakuji, Kaigaku, Nakime, and Michikatsu to be here, but not the Hashira Club, excluding Gyomei.

"Whoa..." (Y/N) elicited.

"Yeah, mostly the people that we know are here. Even the others from the Hashira club. Supposedly this is a "Private party", as Michi calls it. So, uh... nothing much else to say other than have fun, I guess." And walks away. Shortly after, Gyutaro decided to sit on the couch, and pull out his phone.

You pouted as you trotted up to him, and yanked his phone away from his hands. He stayed there for a few seconds, and his neck snapped at you as he said, "Give me my phone."

"No."

He stands up and walks up to you, towering over you as he repeats himself, "Give me my phone." sounding more aggravated that time. You put his phone in your back pocket, and crossed your arms with a juvenile smile on your face as you repeated, "No."

A thick vein popped up on his forehead as he tried to reach for his phone by groping your ass, but you quickly backed up away from his as you waved your finger at him and said, "Ah, ah, ah, you can only have it back if you socialize with the others."

His eyes were slanted down to visualize his anger as he responded, "And if I say no?" You giggled as you said, "Then I'll break your phone." Gyutaro was about to say something crazy, but he sighs and rolls his eyes in defeat as he says, "Let's get this shit over with." A smile crept up to your face as he said, "Don't start."

"I'm sorry, I just can't help it." She said as she started to walk around, and he followed her. The first person they went up and talk to, was Hakuji. (Y/N) liked him as he was respectful to her. If anything, he was respectful to every woman he ever came across.

He was talking to one of the people from the Hashira club, he had yellow hair with red streaks at the end, and a small ponytail at the back of his head. Both of them were talking about... whatever college boys talk about during parties.

"Hey guys!" (Y/N) shouted out at the duo, and they both turned their attention to them. "Oh, hey (Y/N), Gyutaro." Hakuji said as he hugged her, and then gave Gyutaro a fist bump. "How you two doin'? I honestly thought you two were gonna stay on campus. Well, Gyutaro, was gonna stay on campus."

"Yeah, but luckily I dragged him to be here so he can be more social." She said with a smile on my face that reads, I'm proud that I did this. "Oh, well, in that case, welcome to the party," Hakuji stated as he patted (Y/N)'s, and Gyutaro's shoulders. "I take it you both met Kyojuro? He's the second in command of the Hashira club at the university."

The fiery-haired man had a bright smile on his face as he reached his hand out to both of them as he introduced himself, "Hi, name's Kyojuro Rengoku." (Y/N) immediately felt warm to his presence, something about his aura just made her feel like they've known each other since they were kids, while Gyutaro was deadpanned from all this, he just wanted his phone back, not to talk to these people.

(Y/N) shook his hand as he carried on the conversation, "So, I heard you're name is (Y/N), right? Nice name." (Y/N) chuckles as she responds, "Thank you." His attention changed from her, to Gyutaro, and so he extended his hand toward him, and he just looked at it. "C'mon Gyutaro, don't leave him hanging." (Y/N) commanded him as he sighed through his nose, and shook his hand. "Hey."

"Hey, nice to meet you. You two enjoying the party?" He questioned both of them, seeing that they came to him, and Hakuji trying to start a conversation. "Oh, we just got here. Gyutaro wanted to sit down and be on his phone, so I'm confiscating it until he's socialized with enough people."

Kyojuro hums as he acknowledges (Y/N)'s response, and says, "Well, that's an interesting way to make your friend sociable. But, if it works, it works. You two want a drink while we're at this? I don't mind getting them for you." He said, pointing his index finger at both of them while holding his cup.

(Y/N) made a brief inhale, but didn't get the chance to speak as speak as Kyojuro overlapped her and said, "Y'know what, you don't have to say anything, I'll go get y'all a drink!" And he trotted away. Hakuji elicts a nose laugh as he then looked at both of them and clears his throat and says, "So... How are you two doin'?"

"We're doing good, thank you for asking." (Y/N) stated as she was tapping her shoes on the floor, hearing the overlapping conversations around them. "That's good to hear. But, can you almost believe that this is our final year? Just goes to show how much time has passed by so fast." He said as he took a swig of his cup.

The thought didn't process in her mind, but when it did, her eyes were extremely widened as she stammered, "Holy shit, you're right. How long has it been since we applied to this place?"

"If I remember correctly, about three years."

Thankfully, (Y/N) didn't have a drink in her hand, 'cause she would've dropped it after realizing she's been in this university for this long. "That's... Man." (Y/N) felt like she just had an entire revelation at the fact, and Hakuji softly patted her back as he consoled her, "I know. But, it's our last year. Make some memories while you still have the time."

"I guess so..." (Y/N) mutters out as shortly after their conversation, Kyojuro walks up behind them as he is holding two red cups. "Here ya go!" Gyutaro and (Y/N) grabbed the cups and Gyutaro immediately took a sip of it while (Y/N) looked in the cup to see a goldish-yellow liquid inside. "O-Oh... Is this beer?" (Y/N) asked Kyojuro as she was watching it slowly slosh around.

"Of course! We're at a party, it's expected to have a strong beverage at the party. Unless you want me to go get you a soft drink, which I can do." He said as he extended his hand out as if he were requesting her to give him the cup. "Oh, no no no no, I can drink it. It's just that I've never had a drink before."

All three of them looked at you with surprise. Hakuji softly laughs as he exclaimed, "Well shit. Well, here's to your first drink at a university party. And here I thought, that you drunk at the past parties we were in."

"Just because I have a red cup in my hand, doesn't mean I'm drinking." (Y/N)'s eyes trail down to the cup and she brings it up to her nose as she softly sniffs it as she softly recoils back from the smell. It had a malty smell to it, which felt alien to her.  She glanced up at Kyojuro as she asked him, "You didn't lace anything in this, did you?"

Kyojuro elicits a dramatic gasp as Hakuji almost choked on his own drink and Gyutaro continued to drink. "Now I would never roofie a vulnerable woman at a party! That would tarnish my reputation! I promise, it's just beer, nothing else." Kyojuro reassured her as she puckered her lips, and took a small sip.

Her face immediately cringed at the taste, it was bitter, and had a tangy taste to it. But she didn't want to be embarrassed in front of everybody spitting it out, so she mustered up the courage, and swallowed the booze that was in her mouth, making her physically and verbally shiver when she did.

"Ugh..." Her eyes scowled and her bottom lip was puckered as she looked at Kyojuro, and formed a weird smile as she raised the cup up. Kyojuro smiled as he bumped his cup into hers and took a sip of his drink.

(Y/N) took one last sip of her cup, and placed it on the counter as she shivered and vigorously shook her head. Hakuji cheered for her as he patted her back and said, "Not bad finishing your first drink. Honestly, I thought you would stop after the third or fourth sip."

"I considered it. But, I'm not a coward." (Y/N) uttered out before she softly burped and groaned. "But, what should we do now?" Hakuji was about to talk, but flinched when he heard the sound of someone talking behind him, "Hakuji-dono! I want to talk to your friends!~"

Oh shit. They all thought. Hakuji felt someone's hand rest on his shoulder and turned around to see Douma towering above him. "Hey.~" All three of them can speak for each other and say they hate— no, not hate, despised Douma as a whole. His narcissistic personality, having little regard for people and how they feel, and his shit-eating smile that was latched onto his face made him the most disliked student of the whole university, and a well-deserved reason for that matter.

"Douma." Hakuji uttered. Douma scruffs his hair up, which made Hakuji pop a vein on his forehead, his fist balled up as if he was about to sock him in his jaw, but he had to refrain from making a scene as someone would record this, post it online, and he would get in trouble.

"Why so hostile? We're at a party, we're supposed to have fun, right? Gyutaro, (Y/N), Fireboy, isn't that what parties are supposed to be?" Gyutaro, Kyojuro and (Y/N) all looked at each other and (Y/N) decided to take the initiative to speak as acknowledged, "Y-Yeah, essentially."

Douma does an annoying chuckle as he responds, "See? Even they get it. So, why can't you?" Hakuji inhales through his nose, and lets out a shaky exhale as he was trying his hardest not to punch him in the jaw. "As a matter of fact, you two, follow me. We're gonna have fun with the brothers. At least they know what to do at a party." And started to walk the other direction.

Gyutaro followed him, and before (Y/N) followed suit, she patted his shoulder, and said to him, "Just one more year, and you don't have to see him again." Hakuji scoffs as he says, "Yeah, hopefully not." And he touches her hand.

(Y/N) felt Kyojuro touch her shoulder and he said, "Don't let him take advantage of you, alright?" "Agreed." Hakuji said. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna give him the chance." She smirks as she says, "Don't worry. I won't let him." She slid her hand off his shoulder as she started to follow Douma and Gyutaro.

She walks by a few people she knew, along said hi to the people who were in the Hashira club, until she got to Douma, Gyutaro and the Hantengu brothers. Out of the four, Urogi was the first to come up to her and hug her as he said, "(N/N)! How you doin'? You enjoyin' the party so far?" He said in a childish tone.

"It's... Eh. It's okay, I guess. Not much to go around though." (Y/N) responded to him as she Urogi chuckled and said, "Well, we can fix that for you. We're about to play a game soon so, it's good timing that you came along." He said, playfully punching her arm.

(Y/N) rubs her bicep before following Urogi to see what the others are doing. Aizetsu was just sitting on the couch as he was watching Sekido and Karaku playing Mortal Kombat. They were playing as Ethernal Mileena and Hellfire Scorpion. It was the last round, so any one of them could win. She leaned down on the couch as she watched the fight unravel. It was mostly blocking and jumping, mixed in with a few anti-air uppercuts and a few combos here and there.

Both of the character's health were very low, and all it took was one immaculate combo for the other character to fall. Mileena tried to do a ball roll, but Scorpion blocked it as he does an overhead flame heel, and engulfs himself in flames using Flame Aura.

Him doing Flame Aura stunned her long enough for him to do a three hit combo, teleports behind her, hits her two more times before throwing his spear and shouting, "COME HERE!!!" He jumps over her, does a jump front punch, hits her with an Eternal Vengeance combo, does a Flameport, grabs her while she's falling, and the camera does a brief slow down as they show Scorpion slash Mileena's neck open, slashes her stomach, and uppercut her head, practically exploding, thus ending this Kombat off with a Brutality.

(Y/N)'s eyes widened from the sudden gore as Sekido quickly stood up and boasted against his brother sitting down. "Get shit on, you bitch! Sorry ass Mileena user!" He said, getting into his personal space. "This coming from the guy who uses Scorpion, and Flame Fist Liu Kang."

Sekido's eyebrows frowned down as he had his fist above and behind his head as Karaku quickly retracted his statement and said, "But, you won, so gg." Sekido's face softened, but not a lot for his angered expression was still plastered on his face, but he backed away for Karaku so he could sit back up properly. "Now that that's well and done, hey (Y/N), how you doin'?"

(Y/N) shrugged her shoulders as she uttered, "Living. Not complaining though." She said as she did a soft sniff shortly after. "Ain't nothin' wrong with living, I'll tell you that much. But you know what's better than living?" He grabs something out of his pocket, and reveals it to be a box of chocolates that had the cover Tabs on it. "Living like there's no tomorrow."

(Y/N) cringed at the banal sentence, as Karaku vaulted over the couch, he pointed to her, and Gyutaro. "You two are gonna play a little game, where it involves eating this delicacy that's in my hand. Now, before I give you two these, did you two eat?"

(Y/N) and Gyutaro both looked at each other before they shook their heads and said, "No." "That my friend," he snaps his finger, "is what we need to do first. Aizetsu," Aizetsu's head perked up as he looked up at his older brother, "Fetch these two some grub before I give them a good night."

"Do they have to? I mean, are they even on that level of relations? I know they're dormmates, but—" Aizetsu's yammering was interrupted when he felt Sekido twist his ear and he quickly said, "Okay! Okay! I'll give them some food!" Sekido lets go of his ear, and he chuckles as he looks at Urogi and say, "You, me, MKX, now."

"I'm down." Urogi said as he grabbed the other controller and sat down on the floor as he picks his character. "C'mon you guys, I'll get you some food." Aizetsu said in a melancholic tone as he stood up off the couch and walked to the kitchen. (Y/N)'s eyes slightly widened at the variety of foods that was on the table and counters. Ranging from vegan, vegetarian, plants, meat, dessert, the whole shebang.

"Grab a plate and enjoy yourselves for the time you have left. Whatever happens for these next couple of minutes will be, you're going to need it." And walks away. They both grabbed a plate and both of them grabbed their own assortment of foods. Due to Gyutaro having a high metabolism, he has a lot of food on his plate, and (Y/N) had some food, along with sweets on hers.

They both go back to watch the brothers play games as they sat down on the floor and began to eat. As they were eating, (Y/N) takes Gyutaro's phone out of her back left cheek pocket, and tapped his shoulder with it. He takes it and continues to eat as she says, with her mouth full, "Yow wekom." And he scoffs, but has a soft smirk on his face.

(Y/N) elicited a sigh of satisfaction as she put her hand on her stomach and patted it. "I'm stuffed." She covers her mouth as she softly burps and groans. Gyutaro softly coughs as he is on his phone. "Well, now that y'all are satisfied, it's about time that we make this more, interesting so to speak."

Karaku takes the box of chocolate out of his pocket as he opens it to reveal three small golden wrappers. "Wow, fancy. Although, not worth 4,639.67¥." He takes one of the wrappers out and each gave it to (Y/N). The wrapper that had the sweat droplets emoji on it. (Y/N) puckers her lips as she softly blushes from the implication of what the emoji meant.

"Not a subtle presentation." Gyutaro deadpanned, leaning against (Y/N)'s shoulder peeking at the wrapper. He sighs as he says, "That's just get this over with, it's not like it isn't gonna do much anyway." (Y/N) unwraps the small chocolate to reveal its look, as there was a corner vertical line that could be broken apart. (Y/N) breaks it apart to where it was two triangles, (Y/N) gave Gyutaro the other half and they both started to chew.

The taste of it was surprisingly good. The texture of it felt smooth, and velvety, as if it was melting in their mouths as they chewed the chocolate. They both swallowed the chocolate, and (Y/N) makes a hum of satisfaction while Gyutaro asks, "So, how long does it take for it to kick in? 15, 20 minutes?"

"Actually, 30. It might take some time for the effects to kick in, so best to get comfortable." Karaku said as he stood up and cracked his back as telling the duo to follow him. They do so, where the more they walked, the more quieter it became. Karaku opens the door which leads to some sort of big closet, which is a little concerning to both of them.

"This where y'all will do your business once the effects start to kick in. Once they do, you both will have seven minutes to do what you want with each other. Simple enough?" They both went inside the closet as he rambled on, "I'll put a timer on my phone just in case you guys forgot about this game. Other than that, have fun." And walks away.

Both of them were sitting right beside each other as (Y/N) was looking around the closet. "Man, this closet is big. Is this even a closet?" (Y/N) questioned like a curious child discovering a new everyday item for the first time. "This is Michikatsu's place, he's a rich bastard so it probably is." And (Y/N) hums.

"Do you wanna watch something, while we wait for this shit to take over?" He said, holding his phone. (Y/N) scooted closer to him, and rested her head on her shoulder, which confused him as he asked, "Why are you so close?" A faint blush formed on both of their faces as she responded, "Just... trying to fit the mood. Seeing that we both ate chocolate and waiting for the effects, might as well make it feel more intimate, y'know?"

Gyutaro groaned at the thought, but sighed as he wrapped his arm around her and asked, "What do want to watch?" (Y/N) 's mouth was gapped open, but closed as she smirked and giggled a little, making Gyutaro's pale face turn into a red complexion. "Shut up..."

A couple minutes passed as they were watching a video, when suddenly, Gyutaro stopped the video and asked her, "Do you feel tense, or hot anywhere?" She looked up at him to see that the blush on his face reappeared, but at the same time, his eyes were half-lidded, and from his perspective, the deafening sound of his heart was beating in his ears.

He started to take his hoodie off, which reveals his black plain tee, and his scrawny, yet tone arms. "You okay, Gyutaro? You look really hot..." (Y/N) said, concerned at his behavior. Gyutaro looks down at her as he says something that gives her the clarification that he didn't hear her correctly. "And so do you..."

"U-Uh... Gyutaro...?" (Y/N) said. Gyutaro dropped his phone on the floor as he the towers over her, making her fall on her back, which results in her being pinned on the ground, with his arms being beside both sides of her head. "You're so hot..." he caresses her cheek with his thumb as he starts to lower his head down and closes his eyes.

For a second, (Y/N) was scared, scared that despite being in her 20s, her first kiss was about to be with her dormmate that she'd been with throughout the last four years.

Just for a second, though.

For another second that sense of fear, turned into a sense of euphoria as she closed her eyes and let the moment happen as she felt his chapped lips touching hers. Both of them were inexperienced at this, their teeth scraping against each other as they moaned with every disconnect.

Gyutaro stops as he looks down at her. Her face, was red. Her eyes, half-lidded, nearly closed. Breath, visible. Gyutaro swallowed his saliva as his lips were quivering as he asked her, "Was... that alright?" and she nodded. She then wraps her arms around him as she pulls him back down and utters, "More." And kisses him again.

Gyutaro graons as he wrapped his arms around his arms around her body, and laid down on their sides as they were getting more into it with the kissing. They hesitantly stuck their tongues into each other's mouths, and slowly started to twirl with one another. It felt so weird to both of them, but them being laced with aphrodisiacs, it felt like they could do anything without any trouble.

They briefly stopped as Gyutaro grabbed the zipper of (Y/N)'s jacket, and zipped it down to reveal her white shirt. He grabbed the bottom, and was about to pull them up, but he refrained himself as he exclaimed, "F-Fuck... I don't care what I say at this point, but can I see your tits? My mind is just aching to see what they look like and I can't seem to control myself..."

Sure, Gyutaro has taken drugs during his years in university, but not the type that would make him really horny, so this was like a new thing to him. (Y/N) nods as she softly spoke, "I-Its... okay. I'm excited about this too... so don't stop." He chuckles a little as he pulls he pulls her shirt up to reveal her solid black sports bra which had her erect nipples poking out of them.

"You freaky bitch..." Gyutaro uttered out. Something inside (Y/N)'s mind clicked. Him calling her a bitch felt degrading, but at the same time, it made her mind a little fuzzy. There wasn't enough time to ponder about it as Gyutaro pulled her sports bra up to reveal her breasts to her. "Fuck..." He elicited as he roughly groped them, making (Y/N) softly moan.

His hands were so rough against her, as he was squeezing them and was surprised at how soft they were in his hands. It felt like marshmallows to him, which was an amazing feeling to him. He licks his lips as he stopped fondling with one of them, and started to lick her nipple. (Y/N) moans at the tingling sensation of his tongue licking her, snd fondling her at the same time.

"G-Gyutaro..." She whined out his name, as he was licking her sensitive teat. (Y/N) made a loud gasp as she felt him gnawing his teeth on her, which made her whimper, and her leg tremble a little. He stopped as he cups the breasts in his hand, and started to suck on it, which made (Y/N) wrap her arms around his head.

Gyutaro groans as he wraps his arms around her waist and places her on his pelvis where she felt something poking her inner thigh, but she was distracted at the fact that Gyutaro was sucking her breast. She lays her head down on his head as she lets out a few whimpers here and there. The aphrodisiacs that were flowing through her made her feel so much more sensitive as not only him sucking her teat made her feel good, but the lips between her hips were slowly soaking her panties.

He stops as he exclaims, "Fuck... Why does this feel so good...? I want more... I need more..." He then pinned her down to the floor as he mounted on top of her, and started to grind on her. Both of their covered genitalia were touching each other, which made them both moan with each grind that he did.

The friction of their parts touching together with their clothes on, made them feel something that they couldn't describe. "G-Gyutaro... Y-Your—" he interrupted her as they both locked lips with each other. They both moaned into each other's mouths as he started to softly thrust his hips.

His shaft was twitching inside his pants, almost as if he was about to finish right then and there, but he had to control himself. If he came right here, he would feel like the biggest loser on the planet, knowing that he ejaculated in his pants all because of a few pumps. But at the same time, his doing this had no business for him feeling this good.

"I can feel it..." (Y/N) whimpered out. Her body felt so light, it was as if she was a feather flowing through the wind as Gyutaro continued to thrust his hips. "I wanna fuck you so badly... your body is so soft and slender, that I can't hold myself back anymore. Will you... let me give you the pleasure I want?"

Him speaking to her that way in such a demanding, but begging tone made her throb down there. Her entire body shivered from that speech he did, and she almost choked on her spit as she said, "Yes... Please, fuck me, Gyutaro." A smile crept up to his face she watched him sit up and watched him grip the rim of his sweatpants.

He was about to pull them down, but turned around to see Karaku open the door behind them. "Whoa, you two got busy. Had I forgotten about the timer, you two would've done it. C'mon, get up and get out of the closet." Gyutaro scooted back away from her as she sat up and rolled her sports bra and shirt back down. Their faces were so red from this moment, it didn't even feel like 7 minutes went by.

Gyutaro picked up his hoodie as he then grabbed (Y/N)'s wrist and started to speed walk. "Gyutaro, w-what are you—" "We're going back to my dorm. This chocolate is making me feel something I've never felt before, and I refused to get blue-balled because of it." He said as he looked down at his stiff erection bulging out. Thankfully, he was wearing sweatpants, thus making it less visible. Fuck... and this is just gonna get in the way if I don't do something about it.

There were people having turns playing Mortal Kombat, this time it was a white haired tall man up against Kyojuro as they were playing Shirai Ryu Takeda, and Outlaw Erron Black. Urogi noticed that Gyutaro and (Y/N) were in a hurry, so he asked them, "Hey, did you two have fun?"

They both nodded as (Y/N) stammered, "I-It was a good party, but we gotta go back to our dorm." Urogi tilted his head like a curious dog as he responded, "But you two just got here. At least play a few games before you guys just leave us."

"You s-see, we wish we could, but our stomachs don't feel right and it would suck if we threw up while we were having fun." (Y/N) said as Gyutaro continued, "Yeah, so bye. Thank you for the fun time you gave us." And continued to speedwalk. "But the bathroom is... right there. Oh well, their loss. We're starting to bet money on this game now." He said as he was counting the amount of yen in his hands.

(Y/N) and Gyutaro both entered the car and we're fumbling to put their seatbelt on, once they did, Gyutaro put the keys in the ignition and twisted it as he put the car into reverse, backed away from one of the cars in front of them, and does a u-turn as he drives the street of the cul-de-sac.

Both of their breaths were trembling as (Y/N) was constantly rubbing her thighs together, and Gyutaro had a firm grip on the steering wheel. Both of them didn't say anything as they tried to maintain their composure so they didn't get into an accident.

My body feels like it's on fire... how can a piece of chocolate that small, affect us like this...? (Y/N) thought as she laid her head down on the dash and her leg was bouncing. Gyutaro on the other hand, was heavily striving. His hands were so firmly gripped on the wheel, that his veins started to pop out on his hands, and forearms.

Not only that, but he was so stiff down there. Stiff, and hard as a 2x4. He wanted to rip his own clothes off so he could feel cool and relieve himself. But, he only lived three minutes away from his dorm, he could get through this painful erection that he had, hopefully.

(Y/N) however, could not. She's never felt this level of lust of her life. It was almost scary to her from how needy she was to have some sort of stimulation, both to the brain, and her body. She sat back up and glanced at Gyutaro to see that he was still looking at the street he was driving in, and she took the opportunity to take her hand under her pants, and move her fingers up and down.

She puts her head on the dash, and her breath was trembling, as she felt the soaking sensation of her panties being drenched from her discharge. She mewled as her eyes were clenched closed as her fingers were moving on their own down there. This feels... so good... She balls her first that was above her head as she was moving her fingers up and down."I know, but just wait a few more seconds, alright? Once we make it to my dorm, I'm gonna fuck the shit out of you." He said, as he grabbed and squeezed her breast.

She bit her lip to refrain a moan to come out of her mouth when he touched her, its almost a surprise when he didn't bother to look what she was doing when he said that to her. It was like he tried to make her more horny than before, in which he did, but not on purpose. "O-Okay, Gyutaro..." she uttered out while in the process of touching herself.

They both arrived on the residental hall, and Gyutaro hastily unbuckled his seatbelt and turned the car off as he opens the car door. "Get out of the car. I'm gonna make sure you—" he looks to his left to see that (Y/N)'s head was arched back from the seat as as her legs were spread open while she was touching her wet and creamy slit down there.

His eyes were bulging out of his skull as he closed the door, trotted to the other side, opened it, unbuckled her seatbelt, and picked her up with no effort. Despite having a scrawny build, he was strong enough to pick her up with ease. They both kissed as Gyutaro was walking up the small concrete stairs to the main entrance of the door.

"I'm gonna fucking ruin you." He snarled, which made her shiver a little. He puts her down, but she grabs his hand, and makes him fondle her. "Are you trying to make me more horny than I already am? I'm fucking stiff as a rock and yet you're making me touch you."

"Is it working?"

He unlocks the door, pulls her into the room, pushes her into his bed, and mounts on top of her. They looked into each other's eyes, both of their faces had a blood-red color on their top half, and their ears as they were both slightly sweaty. "Show me your fingers. The ones where you were touching yourself when I was driving." He demanded her as she pulled her hand out of her pants as she revealed her wet, creamed covered fingers.

"Disgusting... You're such a slut, you know that right?" He said, which made her feel a little flustered, but the good kind, of course. "N-No, I'm not... it's the c-chocolate..." she said, avoiding eye contact with him. He chuckled as he wrapped his hand around her waist, opened his mouth, and licked her fingers that were covered in her discharge.

He closed his eyes as he was licking them, some of it even got down to the webbing, and he licked there as well. (Y/N)'s face turned red as a tomato as she watched him lick her fingers so sensually. She didn't think he would be capable of doing something so erotic like this.

Once he finished, he sat up, and scooted back as she started to untie her shoes and dropped them on the floor. He grabbed the rim of her pants, and pulled them down to reveal her panties that were completely soaked. So much so, that it was transparent and he could see her slit, camel toe and and her erect clit. "Wow... You're so wet..." he started to rub his palm on it, which made her flinch a little. "And it's squishy too... did me grinding my dick on you excite you that much? Or did me groping you amplify that?" He croaked out, his voice sounding raspy, which made her body shiver yet again.

"I-I... Um... it was... both of them." She mutters out, which he didn't hear so he asks her, "What was that? I couldn't hear you. Try moaning it out for me." He moved his fingers up and down. She stifled a moan she blurted out, "Both. I-It was both." He smiles as he gets an answer from her, and he stops as he unties his shoes, takes them off, and takes off his sweatpants.

He took off (Y/N)'s pants, and threw them somewhere on the floor as he was now on his knees, and his boxers had a huge tent poking out. He wraps his arms around her legs, and started to grind his his hips up and down against her wet panties. They both started to moan due to the friction of their undergarments touching against each other, both of them extremely sensitive from the pleasure that was flowing throughout their bodies.

"So fucking good..." he uttered as he felt himself twitching. His boxers were slowly becoming drenched as not only that (Y/N)'s juices were dampening them, but so was his precum that was seeping through. It smelled so musky, but in the sense that made (Y/N) dizzy with lust. Her head felt fuzzy for a second as she said, "G-Gyutaro..."

He stops as he looks at her and says, "What? You wanna do it now? Not that I'm complaining." She softly shook her head as she said something that she would never say if she was sober. "No... I... wanna... I wanna suck your c-cock."

Her saying that activated something inside him, his shaft was frantically twitching as he didn't ask any more questions, and pulled them off. For a man who looked like he had little to no muscle mass, he was packing quite the package down there.

Although there was a bit of messy hair down there, but that didn't matter to (Y/N). He then sat down and said, "Come here." Which she complied as she was slowly crawling up to her. She wrapped her hand around it, and it felt so hot. It was like her hand was melting due to how warm it felt in her hand. She then lowered her head down as she caught a whiff of its arousing musk surrounding it, making her head go blank for a quick second before she snapped back to reality.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" He questioned. (Y/N) swallowed the spit that was in her mouth as she started to give kitty licks on the tip of it. It tasted a little salty, but it didn't bother her in the slightest. Gyutaro softly grunted as she watched her do this, and so he stroked her hair as he gave her a little praise, "There you go, that's a good girl." And softly slaps her.

She moaned from the slap, which is something she never thought she would be into, but she was becoming corrupted by the drug in her body, so her principles were being bent as time went on. She started to kiss the tip, and soon, started to twirl her tongue around it. His breath hitched and he elicited a moan as he closed his eyes and uttered, "F-Fuck..."

His hips then coiled as he felt her warm lips wrap around him, and she started bobbing her head up and down. His neck arched back as he lets out a shaky exhale as he gripped his bed sheets as she was only sucking the tip, but it felt like he was gonna finish at any moment.

He tastes so good... my mind is just going black just from sucking him off. I feel like such a whore doing this, I've never done this before, and yet I want more from him... she thought as she closed her eyes and put her hands on his inner thighs as she was pleasing him.

He was about to grab his phone and record this, but then he remembered that he put his phone in one of his pockets in his pants, so all he could do was just watch her as she swallowed his length. Give or take, she was heavily inexperienced at this, but that didn't mean she was doing a good job of making him feel good. A pleasurable blowjob is enough to negate all the negatives of oral pleasure.

Gyutaro's face started to look drunk-like. One of his eyes was closed while the other was struggling to stay open. His face looked a bit sweaty as he was covering the bottom half of his face with his fist. (Y/N) started to become sloppy as her saliva started to run down his shaft, and her head started to bob faster. Some of her spit was going down her chin due to how much effort she was putting into pleasing him.

She would slurp the saliva she had produced as he started to deepthroat him. His warm, thick length filled her mouth, making her jaw hurt as she was making him feel good. "Dosh it phel gud, Yutaro?" She said, with her mouth full. "Y-Yeah... It feels really good... Too good..." he then grips her head and starts to thrust his hips into her mouth. (Y/N) slightly whimpered as it felt like his tip was hitting the back of her throat.

There is a plus in this situation however, she didn't have a gag reflex. Meaning that he could be aggressive with her and not worry about her throwing up. Her throat might take some time to heal though, but a minor drawback at the end of the day. Or in this term, night.

Her hands slid off his thighs as she felt her body go limp, her mind slowly going blank as he was skullfucking her. His hair down there was being moisturized from the spit that was leaking down his shaft, and the sound of her slurping on him was like white noise to his ears.

His breath starts to get heavy as he huskily utters out, "Fuck, I-I... ngh..." (Y/N) felt his shaft twitching inside her mouth, nearing his arrival. He arched his head back as his breath was trembling he scrunched his eyes closed, and clenched his teeth as his moans were audible enough for (Y/N) to hear them.

"F-Fucking... gonna..." his thrusts were faster as his shaft started to twitch more and more. He then moved his hips back, and left her mouth with a faint pop elicited from her lips as he wrapped his hand around him as he frantically stroked it. He grips her hair as he commands her to, "Open your mouth."

She opens her mouth, and stuck her tongue out as he breathlessly vociferated, "Just like that. Just... like..." he couldn't finish his sentence as he curled his toes as he was getting closer and closer. (Y/N) closed her eyes as she waited for him to release his spunk onto her face. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, O-OH... f-fuck..." he huskily exclaimed as his muscles constricted and shot out his white, sticky ropes all over her face.

(Y/N) flinched as she felt his warm load sticking to her face, each one feeling thicker than the last. It got everywhere on her, from her chin, her cheeks, her forehead, the bridge of her nose, essentially her entire face. Luckily it didn't get in her hair or eyes, otherwise, there would be problems between them. But some of it did get into her mouth, the slimy, sticky texture of it felt so weird in her mouth, but she had no choice but to swallow it, feeling his seed going down her throat.

It's so... salty... and bitter... she thought as she shivered a little from the taste. "F-Fuck..." Gyutaro wheezed out as he bent his head back and looked at the ceiling. He laughed as he said, "You... Are one freaky ass girl, y'know that?" His breathing was calming down as his heart was slowing down. Despite all that, he was still erect and it was aching for more.

(Y/N) didn't say anything, but had a blush on her face as she got out of his bed and walked to the bathroom to clean her face. His cum dripped down on her hand as she grabbed a roll of toilet paper, and cleaned herself off. As she was doing this, she felt his arms wrap around her waist, and hotdogged his shaft in between her cheeks.

He kissed the back of his neck as he softly croaked, "How did my cum taste? Was it salty to you? I saw the way you swallowed it without any hesitation." The blush on her face started to get redder as he started to grind his shaft on her making her whimper a little. "C'mon, admit that you liked it. There's no point in denying it." His humping started to get more aggressive, enough to make (Y/N) budge with every thrust.

"It... did taste salty, and bitter. But, I couldn't help but swallow it..." she admitted with a hint of shame in her voice as she wiped her chin that was covered in his cum and her spit. She threw the pieces of toilet paper in the small trash can as she felt him pull her panties down, and started to slide his rod on her lips.

Her arms started to tremble as she bent down on the sink as she started to feel weak from him rubbing his shaft against her. "You're so wet down there, even after you sucked me off. Guess I should repay the favor, huh?" He then picked her up, and walked back to his bed as he dropped her face first into the comforter, and pulled her back so she was standing.

He puts his fingers down there, making (Y/N) mewl as her legs begin to shake while she is on her toes. "But, before I do, I want to hear you say it. Say you want me to fuck you, and I'll give it to you." He said that with a wanton smile on his face. He was teasing her as he was moving his fingers around her lips. Her mouth trembled as she elicited a quivering exhale as she whined out, "P-Please... F-Fuck me..."

The smile on his face got a little bigger as he grabbed his rod, and started to move it on her sensitive cunt. "What was that? I couldn't hear you loud enough." He bit the tip of her ear as she said it a little more clearly for him to hear as she iterated, "Please, fuck me, Gyutaro."

A moan escaped her lips as she felt his tip going slowly inside her, and was slowly moving in and out of her. "Repeat that one more time for me." He said as he wrapped his hand around her neck, and tightly gripped it.

Tears of depravity rolled out of her eyes as she vo​cif​er​at​ed, "P-Please fuck me, Gyutaro! S-Stick fat cock inside me as you rail me, and make me drunk for you! I want to—" Gyutaro kissed her lips as he wasted no time, and propelled his hips into her.

Her eyes closed as she felt her body become limp as Gyutaro let go of her neck, and she plopped face-first into the comforter, slowly becoming a moaning mess. "Th-Thank you, Gyutaro... thank y-you..." she reverberated with each thrust that was making her voice sound bouncy. "Anything for a slut like you." And he smacks her ass.

She educed a yelp from her lips as she groaned from the small stinging sensation of his print on her left cheek as he was fucking her with his long, thick, meaty cock. Sweat began to develop on his forehead, as wiped the sweat off of his head, while having strands of hair stuck to his forehead as he started to take his shirt off, he threw the shirt on the floor as he was fully naked, and was going all out.

How is she so wet, and yet so tight? It's like she wants me to cum as fast as possible from this combo. But that ain't gonna happen, not until I feel satisfied with her. He reckoned as his hips were moving like a piston, having a firm grip on both sides of her waist. (Y/N) was moaning and groaning from every thrust that she received as her wet, creamy, sticky cunt was being pounded by him.

"G-Gyutaro...~" she mewled out his name as her legs began to shake. He was gripping his bedsheets as all she could do at the moment was take him. The sound that her slit was making was do lewd, someone might've thought that they were making pasta. She yelped as she felt him smack her ass yet again. "You like that, huh? You like when I smack your fat ass and watch it make waves when my hips hit yours?" And he smacks it a third time.

She slowly nods at him as she stutters out, "Y-Yes... My body feels so hot that it feels like I-I'm melting... snd your cock is the only thing I can feel right now. And you smacking my ass, it feels like a shock flowed through me, i-it stings, but it feels so good...~" she plopped her face into the comforter as her moans were muffled, but still audible.

"You're such a fucking whore. And I love it." He then slides out, making (Y/N) almost collapse on her feet when he turns her body around, and picked her feet up so she could be laying down on the bed. He mounted on top of her as he grabbed her shirt and pulled it up for her to take off.

He threw the shirt, and pointed at her sports bra and commanded her, "Take them off." (Y/N) sits up, but straight enough to make a 90° angle, but enough for her to grab the rim of her sports bra. She slowly pulled them up as her breasts were getting caught in her bra, until Gyutaro witnessed them drop and softly bounce once she took it off.

She dropped her bra, and she was fully naked. both of them, their hearts beating out of their chests, their body temperature going through the roof, the lack of air in their lungs as they were making eye contact with each other. (Y/N) laid back down, and spread her legs open as she extended her arms to him, and said, in a rather hush, venereal tone, "Please, fuck me, and make me scream, Gyutaro."

Something snapped inside of Gyutaro when she said that to him. It was like he lost all of his senses of control, as he wrapped his hand around her neck, and reentered inside her and moved his hips so fast and rough, that the bed was plangently creaking.

A crooked smile formed on his face as he stated, "You wanted this, didn't you? All those years of tension with us being together finally caught up to you. Who knew, that all it t-took, ngh... was an edible for you to let it out..."

She hated it admit it if she was sober, but he was right. It took one edible for her to realize her true intentions to him. She just didn't expect how much has been holding back throughout these semesters. A single tear formed in her eyes as she made eye contact with his eyes and said, with her voice sounding raspy, "I-I... Love you."

Love you...? Gyutaro repeated in his mind. She, loved him? Despite him giving no time to breathe to please himself after all the bullshit he had to withstand with her? She was either too cock-drunk, or this were her true feeling towards him, despite her still being on the effects of the aphrodisiacs.

He wasn't sure how to respond, as he slapped her again, albeit with a sense of weakness behind it, and wrapped both of his hands on her neck. Her eyes closed as she makes smile, and wrapped both of her hands on his wrists. "M-Make me cum... p-please..."

Gyutaro felt conflicted choking her now, now that she said that she loved him, so to distracted himself from it, he lowers his head, and kissed her. Gyutaro groans while (Y/N) puled as both of their tongues were dancing with each other. Their saliva going down their chin as their heads were tilted to make the kiss deeper. The way his tongue was dominating hers, it was like he was showing her who was in charge here.

But, she wasn't complaining.

They both stopped kissing, their saliva stretching between each other as (Y/N) slowly opened her eyes and repeated the words, "I l-love you..." Gyutaro's face turned burgundy when she said that to her the second time, and yet it felt more sentimental than the first one. Maybe it was because they both kissed? Maybe it was because she was letting him choke her? So many questions, for so little time.

Gyutaro let's go of (Y/N)'s neck, showing a faint imprint, and depressed himself to (Y/N)'s breasts, and started to suck on them. He wrapped his arms around (Y/N)'s body, his hands felt so bony against her skin, but it felt in some way reassuring to her. "I-I... Wuv phyu tu..."

(Y/N) smiles as she wrapped her arms and legs around him as she says, "T-Thank you..." tears streaking down on her face. The continuous sound of the bed creaking, and their cream-covered genitalia stroking each other filled the dorm, as (Y/N)'s breath shuddered like she was on ecstasy, as her stomach started to form a knot as her body felt tingly.

"G-Gyutaro, I feel weird..." she said as her breathing started to become unstable, and she was struggling to stifle a few moans. "Gyutaro... Gyutaro..." she repeated his name in a high pitch tone as she curled her toes and felt the knot snap inside her stomach as she squirted her cunt-juice all over his pelvis and cock, all while he was continuously thrusting his hips, making her feel maximum stimulation.

She dug her nails into his back and scratched him, making his back draw blood as her hands started to go down. He bit her nipple, which caused her to arch her back and neck while eliciting a soundless scream and her brain became static.

He stops as he rose back up and says, "You're so... fucking... sexy." He lays his head on her shoulder, and he lets out a few moans in her ear. (Y/N) moans as she felt his teeth scrape her neck, and he started to lick it. Her entire body felt numb at this point, it was like she was paralyzed and all she could feel was his rod rearranging her insides.

His breathing began to sound heavy as he felt himself constantly twitching. His body felt tingly as he bit his lip and lets out a stifled groan as he started to move faster and faster. "Do it... do it..." she begged. Gyutaro clenched his eyes closed as he bit her neck, making her elicit a shaky groan as he made a few final thrusts, before he slipped out and his spunk spewed out. He moans as he felt his shaft throbbing and shooting out his seed onto (Y/N)'s skin, each throb being a little bit more painful than the last.

Once he finished, his entire body was shaking, and his arms were striving to help him hover above (Y/N). They both looked down to see the mess they both made from their fluids. "Fuck..." They both looked back at each other and stared for a few seconds before Gyutaro cupped her cheek, narrowed the distance between each other, and kissed. (Y/N) whimpered, while Gyutaro lets out a shaky groan as they pecked each other's lips and twirled their tongues together.

They stopped, and Gyutaro crawled out of bed as he walked to the bathroom. (Y/N) couldn't do anything but look up at the ceiling as she was so exhausted from getting fucked. But, she loved it. She has never felt anything like what just happened before. If anything, if she was sober, she might've equally as enjoyed it if she wasn't drugged. He came back with a roll of toilet paper and started to tear it up to clean her stomach and her part off.

It didn't feel much when he cleaned her stomach, but she felt a sharp pain when she felt the piece of paper rub her abused slit. She jolted and groaned as Gyutaro says, "S-Sorry. I'll try to be less rough." And he started to clean her more gently.

Her legs flinched with every stroke of the toilet paper, but it wasn't so painful as his intital swipes. She softly groaned with every swipe, her breath trembling as she let him clean her. Once he finished, he grabs the bundle of used toilet paper, and threw him in the trash can.

Walks back to his bed, grabbed the comforter, and lays down next her. Gyutaro wraps his arms around her, as he kissed her forehead, and said, "I love you..." before succumbing to his tiredness and went to sleep.

(Y/N) smiles as she kissed his lips and says, "I love you, too..." and laid her head on his chest.

...

Dawn was arriving, as Gyutaro was the first to wake up, and was met with an aching headache. He was about to sit up, but something was weighing him down. He looks under the cover to see a sleeping, naked (Y/N) laying on his chest, and he softly pulled the covers back down as he looks at the ceiling and thought, Holy shit... so what happened last night wasn't a drug trip... I really fucked her...

He looks to his right to see some sort of sticky note on his phone on the nightstand. He removes the sticky note and read in his head,

Make sure you don't leave your stuff in a random strangers closet.

- U.

And at the bottom left shows a small doodle of Urogi with his tongue sticking out and and x across his face. Gyutaro clickd his tongue as he placed the sticky note back on the nightstand as he gets on his phone. He then heard the sound of (Y/N) groaning awake as he lifted up the covers and see (Y/N) slowly opening her eyes.

She looks up and froze when they both made eye contact with each other. "G-Good morning." (Y/N) stammered. "M-Morning." They both continued to stare at each other for what felt like a prolonged time, until she sat up, with her breasts on full display, and he couldn't help but stare at them until (Y/N) spoke.

"Do you... recall about what we did last night?" Gyutaro ponders at that night and the first thing that popped up in his head was him skullfucking her, making his face more red. "Yes. Do you?" (Y/N) also pondered at that night as the first thing she recalled was him smacking her behind as he was thrusting her.

She blushed hard as well as she responded, "Yes... I do." She puts her hand together, avoiding eye contact with him. He sat up and pecked her forehead as he asked, "Did you enjoy it?"

She looked up at him to seeing his eyes looking genuine, like he wanted to know the definitive answer of whether she liked it or not. She pecked his lips as she responded with a, "Yes."

Gyutaro smirks as he wrapped his arms around her, and gave her a kiss, lasting for five seconds before they disconnected. "Your breath stinks." (Y/N) deadpanned as Gyutaro couldn't help but laugh at that comment. But, he clapped back as he responded, "And you smell."

(Y/N) pouted as she sat on the edge of the bed, and was about to stand up, but collasped as her legs felt so weak. Gyutaro laughs as she says, "It's not funny. Help me get to the shower."

Well, seeing that were both naked... why not? Gyutaro thought as he removed the covers off his bed, and got out as he crouched down and put her arm around his neck. They both started to walk to the shower, and Gyutaro, surpisingly being a gentleman, turns the shower on.

He went back to get their towels as (Y/N) was leaning back on the wall. Although it was nice of him to do this, her bottom half still hurted like hell. Specifically, her pussy. He was so rough with her, it's honestly a miracle that the bed didn't even break.

Luckily it didn't take long for him to recover the towels as he puts them on the sink. He sticks his hand out to see how warm or cold the water was, and came to find out that it was the perfect temperature. He opens the curtans and grabs (Y/N)'s wrist as he softly pulled her to the shower.

Once she got in first, he followed suit. The both stood together as they were being drenched in the warm water. Gyutaro lowered his head down and kissed her neck as he repeated, "I love you... I love you so much." (Y/N) giggled as she pets his hair and says, "I love you, too." And they both started to clean each other.

A couple minutes go by, and Gyutaro twists the handle down as the shower turns off. (Y/N) opens the curtains and grabbed both of their towels as they began to dry off. They both dried off their hair, which made (Y/N) vulnerable as she turned around while doing it in the process. He looks down to see her cake open to him, and he couldn't help but give it a hard slap, letting his intrusive thoughts win.

(Y/N) yelped as she looked back at him to see a smile on his face that read, "Yeah I smacked your ass, whatcha gonna do about it?" (Y/N) turned her whole body around as she looked at him and said, "Now you turn around." He chuckles as he obeys her, and looks back at her. She raised her hand up, and smacked it, making Gyutaro laugh as he says, "Didn't feel a thing."

She pouts as he turns back around and kisses her forehead. "But, if it makes you feel any better, I'll admit that it stung a little." And scruffed her hair. She smacked his ass again, and blurted, "Okay, that one didn't even hurt."

Once they finished drying themselves off and brushing their teeth, they both wore their undergarments as Gyutaro wore a pair of boxers, and (Y/N) put on panites and a shirt. Gyutaro yawned again and said, "You wanna take a nap? It's Sunday, so we don't have to do anything for the day." And scratched his head. "I..." She yawned as well, stretching her arms, "...don't need to sleep again."

He scoffs as he responded, "Yeah, sure you don't." He then got under (Y/N)'s bed as he prepped the pillow and laid down. "If you change your mind, you know what to do." He said as he pulled his closed his eyes.

(Y/N) stood there for a couple of seconds before she lets out a sigh of defeat and walked up to her bed as she got under the covers and laid next to him. A smirk crept up to his face as he said, "I knew you couldn't resist." Which made (Y/N) blush as she retorted back, "Shut up."

He chuckles before he wraps his hand around her, and went back to sleep. (Y/N) drops the pout on her face as she made a smirk before she laid her head on his chest, and went back to sleep.

04-25-24 - I feel like the last part wasn't really needed, but I'll leave that up to y'all. Hope you guys enjoyed this, had to write something good for arguably the most underrated character in the show.

Until next time,

✌️👋❤️

Take care.

And to any of you who are cruious about that Scorpion combo that Sekido did to Karaku (probably not a lot), here.

T/CW: video game gore:

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #wattpad #demon slayer smut #kny smut #anime #demon slayer fanfic #kny x reader #f!reader #gyutaro #gyutaro smut #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro shabana #kny fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #smut fic #smut fanfiction #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader smut #cw: gore #I mean its video game gore so does it count?

[pianokantzart]

A little obsessed with the "utterly burnt out & can't quite figure out how to make it work in this economy" depiction of Mario in the concept art.

Look at him. He's so tired.

#You just want to give him a hug and a crisp 20$ #Makes me wonder if they were planning on having Mario with a lot less self confidence at the beginning #which explains the ''Super Luigi Bros'' logo #It would've been a lil weird but I'm also kinda here for it #I'm rolling this around in my mind as an AU #Super Mario Bros #Mario Movie #Mario movie concept art

[saturnaous]

I never stop thinking about them.

SEND ME ART REQUESTS BOY

#yeah this is basically an art dump #just a bunch of miscellaneous doodles #that last one is from when I first made the au. I do like. basically doodle sheets. if you understand #there's a bunch of other stuff that I marked out that's why there's a bunch of empty space at the top #if you recognize the individual things from it. no you don't. #god for some reason I think I'm fucking ALLERGIC to using reference. of like any kind #the only one I used anyreference for was the. snowball one which was a pose #also btw I'm trying to break out of a bit of art block teehee #anyways. #spenxer lou art #lou is an artist #fma au #I need to make an actual tag for this au but I'll do it later. when I pin down a name #I really like tongued alchemist. . . it's funny #roleswap au #fma #fmab #fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #alphonse elric #edward elric #traditional art #writhes around on the floor #I have a short comic idea for Ed. because I like making them talk about their feelings sometimes #but Idk if I wanna do it rn. . .we'll see #it's been on my mind #AUUAGHHUHUH Also I lost. my favorite mechanical pencil at a waffle house #I'm so fucking sad about it #I'm going to the craft store tomorrow tho so. fingers crossed #I think. I can stop now. falls to the floor and rolls away like a log

[softersinned-arc]

i’m finishing up awakening and have more thoughts (shocking) on astoria during this timeline. all character-specific interactions are, of course, subject to change to respect the preferences of writing partners who are writing those characters! but here we go —

she’s great to have around the vigil because she’s probably both at least a little familiar with the layout, given that her father was one of howe’s vassals, and she’ll be able to identify and give background on a lot of the avvar connections. (which, just a little sidebar, it is SO cool to see how much the avvar have maintained over the thousand-plus years from the last time they held the vigil to when we meet them more thoroughly in inquisition, which speaks to the strength of their oral traditions especially, considering that the environmental conditions in the frostbacks aren’t really lending themselves to preserving written records.)

she probably knows nathaniel in passing, or at the very very least, knows of him. it’ll create an interesting tension for her, and the tension between nathaniel and the warden will reflect her own internal turmoil as she tries to make sense of whether she wants to live her life as a lowlander, with her father’s family, or if she wants to live her life as an avvar, with her grandfather and uncle. nathaniel represents everything about her life in amaranthine — social obligations and nobility and aristocracy, the struggle to determine how to use one’s privilege and whether to use it, the pseudo-sacred nature of traditions. the warden represents everything about her life in the frostbacks — emphasis on a larger community, the equalizing nature of survival in a brutal setting, the absolute lack of permanence in all things.

in an official capacity she’s probably acting as an assistant, essentially, for the seneschal: she knows the warden, she knows the city, she can liaise between everyone when necessary. she can navigate the nobles, and she can help the warden try to bridge that gap. in an unofficial capacity she’s hanging out with her buddies, but also, she’s kind of cataloguing the avvar presence in amaranthine. it makes her feel more herself, and less like there has to be a single choice made about who she is and what her identity is.

she asks anders to help teach her some magic. primarily, healing. during this time she gets better and more consistent with her healing. i think, though, that this is also when her healing starts to have a potentially negative impact on her, because her magic is so erratic and hard to control. for instance: the magic feels like holding her fingertips to a fire, and she eventually loses feeling in the very tips of her fingers. because her magic is erratic i think it often works without her knowledge or awareness, and so she’s often healing small injuries in her own body — which is great in theory, except that these are superficial healings. her pain tolerance gets really fucked up, and she stops recognizing how seriously she might be injured unless someone else is there to check or point it out.

i also think she takes care of ser pounce after anders leaves. i like to imagine astoria sitting on the walls with pounce in her lap at night. she’ll pick up any other stray cats she finds, too.

at the start of awakening, astoria’s cut her hair — not very short, but it goes from near-waist-length to an inch or two past her shoulders. she wears her hair down more often, rather than in braids like she did during the blight.

during astoria’s personal quest in origins, she’ll have revealed to the warden that, as per avvar belief, blighted bodies cannot be taken to the lady of the skies, and therefore the blighted person will wander aimlessly for eternity. on a practical level she knows this is to prevent spreading the blight; on a personal level it’s a deep and persistent fear. that fear returns during awakening. during this time, she also starts to think more about her experience at the resting place of the sacred ashes, and questioning whether or not she believes in the maker and andraste. it’s a period of serious self-evaluation.

finally, a note on my dragon age verses in general — i do have default world states and a default ship for this verse. unless we’re leaving something open for a ship to potentially develop, or i’m writing with another hero of ferelden / cousland, astoria is involved with and, by inquisition, married to ellis cousland. if not ellis, the default warden is my own — alix tabris — unless we’ve plotted otherwise, and the default hawke is also my own — amara, red warrior — unless plotted otherwise. astoria leaves hawke in the fade. i am always super open to developing ships or working with a different world state, so please don’t be shy about suggesting it! this is just a general note on this au.

#(xan also mentioned 'warden astoria au' and i am predictably losing my mind over it) #(avvar astoria who IS tainted??? OOF it's sad it's delicious it makes me want to roll around in the mud during a rain storm) #(somehow i always forget how much i love this game) #(i have a da tattoo and i see it a million times a day and i still forget) #(if i don't play da at least once a year i'm simply a worse version of myself i think) #(anyway i'm also five seconds away from saying 'fuck it' and going wild on my multi & adding velanna back & also maybe nathaniel) #(that's the worst part abt these games i have. zero self control at any point in time. anyway.) #i. she had a marvelous time ruining everything. ( about )

[radiance1]

This au again lawl. Where Danny wears these special sunglasses to hide his eyes that also track down ghosts in his human form.

The Justice League tracks down a summoning for the ghost king, an eons old tyrant of the infinite realms and known to bring war and devastation whenever he is summoned.

The cultists do manage to summon the ghost king, except, not how they wanted. They did indeed summon the king, but Pariah Dark is still trapped in eternal sleep and somehow, just, somehow, they managed to draw the lottery and dragged the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep to the summoning circle.

So there the Justice League were, wondering what to do with the (currently) locked away and sleeping ghost king.

Until Constantine's coat flipped itself open and a boy with glowing white hair and a mist of blue blowing from his mouth.

"Old man." The boy greeted.

"Brat." Constantine said.

"Do you mind explaining why and how this," The boy gestured to the Sarcophagus. "Is here and not in Pariah's Keep?"

"Funny story, that one." Constantine said, only half-jokingly. He then went on to explain that the Justice League came to track down cultists, said cultists somehow managed to drag that here, and now they didn't quite know what to do with it.

The boy stood still for a moment, before taking off his sunglasses to pinch the bridge of his nose and sighed, a large amount of blue flame spilling from his mouth. "Ancients above, why is it every time something notable happens, it's always you?"

Constantine snorted, reaching into his coat for a pack of cigarettes and lighting himself one. "Hypocritical coming from you."

"I know, but still." The boy walked over to the Sarcophagus and sat on it, as if it wasn't the thing currently holding one of the most powerful ghosts in the infinite realms. "You know smoking is bad for you, right?"

"What, you learned that in class?" Constantine snarked, making no move to do anything and causing the boy to sigh again, toxic green eyes looked around the room, falling over each hero present before homing in on Flash. The boy pointed to him. "You. Come here."

"Whatcha want with red?" Constantine asked and the boy simply shrugged his shoulders. "Passing on a message."

The boy blinked once, and if he was surprised that the Flash was already in front of him, then he didn't show it. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a green sticky not, motioned for Flash to bent down and stuck it on his forehead.

Superman was... concerned. There was a heartbeat there, he could hear it, but it was so slow and seemed rather weak, like the boy was near death.

"Alright, now I gotta get old mean and green back to his keep before the Observants get on my case." The boy put back on his sunglasses and got up, waving Flash away and lifting up the Sarcophagus above his head he walked over to Constantine, whose face wrinkled.

"That ain't going to fit." The warlock pointed out and the boy scoffed, probably rolling his eyes behind his glasses. "And you've fit bigger things, just shut up and lift the coat old man."

Constantine did so, and somehow the boy just shoved the entire Sarcophagus inside. The boy was very obviously smug as the blue mist that was blowing from his mouth the entire time petered out. "I'll clean up the mess on my end," The boy said before waving his hand in the Justice League's general direction. "You deal with all that."

"Just get going already, I'm not about to get those sentient eyeballs on my ass."

"Yea, yea. You got enough to deal with as is." The boy then stepped inside Constantine's cloak and as soon as the man let it drop, he disappeared.

Constantine looked around the room, silently assessing the situation as he brought another cigarette to his lips.

He lamented the fact he would have to deal with this sober.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #Just so ya know #Danny ain't ghost king or prince #Just normal halfa here #Haha #Where does Constantine's cloak lead? #We may never know. #Just know that Danny can come out and go into it #Because I thought it was funny

[astraystayyh]

pieces of you

single dad!chan. x fem!reader

genre : neighbors!au. fluff. angst. slow burn. mutual pining. 8.7k wc

summary : In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chris and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.

a.n. : my chris best girl dad agenda is going strong!!!!!! my second fic for the winter falls collab with my writer xi hehe i hope you will all enjoy reading!! feedback is highly appreciated 🤍 the song chris will write for sowon is light by sleeping at last, highly recommend listening to it!!

winter falls masterlist.

i. 

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”

“Shh, daddy smile.”

Soft murmurs linger just beyond your door, elusive words that could easily be dismissed as figments of your imagination. However, any doubt in your mind dissipates with three resounding knocks, jolting you from your momentary contemplation. 

A reluctant groan escapes you as you glance down at your attire—a loosely hanging oversized hoodie, a testament to the numerous times it has been tugged down, and a pair of pajama pants whose matching top has mysteriously vanished. Clearly, you don't feel presentable enough to welcome anyone at this late hour. So, you remain motionless, futilely lowering the TV volume in hopes that whoever's behind the door will just continue with their night. But the knocks persist against your wish, so, with a resigned sigh, you rise from your seat, your blanket cascading to the ground in a soft descent.

“What–” the words dissolve in your mouth like a sweet nectar as you open the door, your eyes beholding no one in your periphery. A slight tug at your pants draws your attention downward, only to find the most adorable child your eyes have ever laid on. She's clad in Rapunzel-themed pajamas, wolf slippers bumping into your plain ones, and, to your surprise, a whisk cradled in her small hand. 

“Hey there,” your voice softens as you crouch to meet her warm gaze. You find an innocent happiness gleaming in her eyes, a radiant spark shining even beneath the corridor's muted light. Two dimples adorn her cheeks as she smiles at you. 

“Hi, my dad wants to tell you something,” she says, pointing with her whisk to the very end of the hallway. You crane your neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive figure. 

“Your dad?”

“Mm. He’s a bit shy, that’s why he’s hiding,” she confides in a whisper. But, despite her earnest attempt, her words still resound loudly in the vacant space, causing giggles to spill out of your mouth. 

“And you aren’t shy?” you inquire, tilting your head. 

“Nu-uh,” she shakes her head with conviction as someone emerges behind her. She instinctively wraps an arm around their leg, nestling her cheek against their thigh. 

She isn't shy because she feels protected.

You rise from your place, eyes locking with a familiar shade of brown. Only these hold a mesmerizing quality to them making your very breath catch in your throat. Kindness pours from his gaze as it travels down your face, a sentiment that further materializes as delicate smile lines stitch around the corner of his eyes.  

He’s beautiful. 

Your eyes trail down to two pairs of dimples, mirroring the ones of his daughter perfectly. She is his living portrait, sharing his eyes, lips, and smile. Yet, his cheeks blush in a hue she does not possess, while his left hand fiddles with his earlobe, in an unspoken, timid gesture. For some odd reason, it pierces straight through your heart.

“Sorry for bothering you,” a smooth Australian accent rolls off his tongue, similar to rich butter spread on warm bread- it infuses your being with tingles pulsating from the base of your toes. You suddenly no longer miss your blanket.

“I'm your next-door neighbor. We were just making cookies and we realized we actually  don’t have flour,” he explains, a bashful smile imprinted onto his lips. 

“You didn’t check beforehand?” you ask, laughter tinting your voice. 

“I forgot,” he admits, but his tone sounds almost sad as if beating himself over it. A fleeting shadow veils his face briefly, dissipating like a passing cloud grazing the sun.

“Can we borrow some from you? I told Sowon that we could go to the store but she said it’s too cold out,” he asks, his hand resting on his daughter’s shoulder soothingly. 

“It is too cold out,” you agree with a frown, looking down at Sowon to which she smiles brightly, happy to have your support. 

“And of course, I'll bring you flour. Don’t worry about it. Do you want to come in meanwhile?”

“It's okay, we'll wait here. Don’t want to intrude.” 

“Thank you!” Sowon beams, her missing tooth in full display. 

“Yeah, thank you so much…” he trails out, tilting his head as if to silently inquire about your name.

“Yn. And you?”

“Chris.”

“Nice to meet you, Chris,” you smile, shaking his extended hand. His fingers wrap around your palm, and it feels as if you’re grasping thunder, crackling with an electricity that your eyes can’t behold, yet your soul does, suddenly illuminated from within. 

Your smile grows as you detach yourself from his hold, before bending forward to bop Sowon’s nose. “And nice to meet you too Rapunzel.” 

Your words make her hide behind her father’s leg, peeking out slightly to look at you. 

“See I'm not the only one who gets shy,” Chan chuckles, and Sowon whines in complaint, further burying her face in her dad’s grey sweatpants. 

Adorable, so much it stirs a long-forgotten melancholy within your being. 

“She gets a pass, she's still young, right Sowon?”

“Are you calling me old then?” Chan fakes outrage, bringing one hand to his chest while the other cradles Sowon’s back. 

“Old enough to forget about flour,” you wink and he laughs, looking down at your slippers. 

“Touché.” 

A few minutes go by before you come back, a recipient full of flour in your hands. The sight before you makes you pause in your tracks– Chris, leaning against the wall, Sowon propped on his hip, her arms loosely hanging around his neck, her eyes closed. 

“Did she…” you whisper and he turns to you. 

“Yeah, fell asleep,” he smiles fondly, tucking a few strands of her hair behind the curve of her ear. “She’ll be disappointed when she wakes up to no cookies. She wanted us to have a baking holiday tradition.”

“You don’t know how to make them?” 

“No, I was counting on a six-year-old to assist me,” he chuckles quietly, prompting a snort from you. 

“Well, keep the flour, in case you need it again.” 

“Thank you, Yn,” he grins, the smile taking over his entire face, grabbing the recipient from you. 

“You’re welcome Chris,” you say, as you both linger around the door still, not making any attempt to move. 

Your eyes refuse to peel away from his, as if there were a magnetic force drawing you to him, telling you that your gaze belonged to rest on him.

“Uhm,” he clears his throat, leaning away from the wall. “I'll get going.”

“Yeah, sleep well, Chris.”

“Thank you,” he smiles before turning around. 

An idea brews in your head, a germ sprouted by the clear adoration in which Sowon gazed at her dad, and the disappointment in his face as he said he would no longer be making cookies. Had you wished to dig a little deeper, you would’ve also found a long-buried feeling of a little girl who would have loved holiday traditions as well. You close the door before heading straight to your kitchen. 

One hour later 

You knock softly on Chris’ door, fidgeting from one foot to another. You almost retract back to your apartment after your fourth knock, when the door finally opens, Chris coming into your line of sight. 

“Hi,” you greet, hands behind your back. 

“Hey,” he smiles, leaning his arm on the doorway, right above your head. He tilts his head to the side, silently wondering what you want. The words dissolve in your mouth at the way his eyes fixate on you as if trying to peer behind your irises onto your mind. 

“Cookies,” you bring the plate before him, as his eyes grow wide, an incredulous smile drawn on his lips. 

“You made them?” 

“Yeah, didn't want Sowon to be disappointed,” you shrug and his eyes grow wild, racking all over your face in disbelief. 

“You didn't have to do this,” he finally says, tone softening, syllables ringing like a sweet sonnet in your ears. 

“I know. I wanted to. and I'm a baker so making cookies comes easily to me, don't worry about it,” you shrug sheepishly, biting your lower lip slightly. You felt scrutinized by him in ways you haven't felt before. 

“Thank you, Yn, I don’t even know what to say,” he says, his smile resembling a beam of light. A surge of pride courses through you at managing to bring it forth. 

“No need to say anything. I hope I didn't wake you up,” you smile sheepishly and he shakes his head. 

“No, I- I was working in my studio and Sowon is asleep. It's just us two. Always has been,” he adds, tone slightly changing, air growing heavier between you both. It's just them two. 

“Studio?” you inquire, hoping to dispel the tension latching around you both. 

“I'm a music producer,” he clarifies. “I made a studio here so I could stay the night with Sowon.” 

“I'm sure she appreciates that,” you say as you hand the plate to him. His fingertips brush against your own, and a slight electricity courses through you at the touch, the hallway suddenly brighter from the fireworks ricocheting off of you both.

“I…. I'll get going.”

“Yeah, yeah, don't want to take more of your time.”

“I'll see you around.” 

“Yeah, I'll see you,” he says, words not ringing carelessly into the air, sounding more like a promise. He'll see you, he'll make sure of it. 

ii. 

“Can you wait!” a voice echoes near the building entrance, and you prevent the elevator doors from closing as hurried steps near you. 

You recognize the voice easily by the light tingles running down your spine, the Australian accent shooting straight through your heart. Its owner materializes, Chris— leather jacket hugging his muscles snuggly, black t-shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans, cap nestled on his head, rebellious strands of ebony hair peeking behind it.

You find the breath knocked out of you once again at his sight. He's beautiful, even more so in broad daylight, where every feature of his comes to life, beckoning, demanding your sole attention. 

“Hey, Yn,” he smiles in delight, uttering your name in a familiarity that infuses your being with warmth. Even though you've only talked once, two days ago. 

“Hey, Chris,” you greet back, pressing the fourth elevator button again. you face the mirror to find Chris already looking at you, his eyes instantly locking with yours. 

“The cookies were good,” he smiles softly and you grin. “I'm glad you think so.” 

“Where is your bakery? I need to taste more of your baking.” 

The butterflies in your stomach tone down at his words, your attraction momentarily forgotten as gratitude coats your heart instead.

“I can text you the address?” you propose. 

“Yeah, here,” he takes out his phone, a picture of him and Sowon set as his lock screen— their cheeks are pressed tightly to one another, messily done eyeliner on both their eyes. you giggle to yourself as you grab the device.

“Cute picture,” you muse and he brings an arm to his neck, scratching the side of it timidly. 

“She insists on trying her makeup on me.” 

“She makes you look better,” you giggle and he rolls his eyes, tongue poking against his cheek. 

“She wants to become a stylist,” he explains, as the elevator doors open. He lets you out first, arm stretched forward.

“I find her passion really cute so I buy her anything she asks for,” he shrugs and you chuckle, pointing to the bag of pink ribbons he is carrying. 

“Let me guess, she wants to use these on you?”

“Yeah. She also said that I quote ‘need to learn new hairstyles because her friends always come to class with intricate braids, and she can't go to class with a simple one.’” He repeats, tone growing slightly high-pitched as he mimics his daughter's words. Yet, the fond smile on his face is louder, screaming of his love for her. 

“She has you wrapped around your finger,” you muse, leaning against your door. The keys in your bag are long forgotten. 

“She can be very scary for such a little girl.” 

“What does she threaten you with?” you ask, feigning horror. 

“No goodnight kisses,” he whispers, as if scared she'd hear him beyond the wooden door. 

“Torture,” you gasp, placing your hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Yet, the smiles slip out of your face instantly. Was it normal for clothes to dissolve under your touch, layers of cotton and leather doing nothing to stop the warmth of his skin from seeping through you? Was it normal to be so affected by such an innocent touch? 

“Uhm,” you clear your throat, “I can help you. with her hair, I mean.” 

“You don't have to. I already took too much from your time with the cookies,” he seems truly apologetic, his tone sobering as if despising others doing things for him. You see yourself in him, in the way he wants to carry the world’s burden on his shoulders. It is a reflection you wish to mend. 

“I don't mind, I remember feeling jealous of the other girls in my school so I made myself learn all the braids.” 

And then you see his gratefulness, the twinkle in his eyes that you can only grasp for a millisecond before they disappear into moon crescents. Happiness looks grand on him, overtaking his entire face, brightening his features with a glow too ethereal to be of mankind, as if they were carved to translate joy. You find yourself willing to give up more of your time to see it.

“Thank you,” he breathes out and you nod, a grin taking over your face as well. 

“You’re welcome. Let me just change my clothes.” 

☃︎⋆꙳•❅

“And then, you pull the right strand all over to the middle one. Then you repeat, this way the ribbon is braided into the hair,” you explain to a very concentrated Chris, his eyebrows furrowed as he follows your movements. 

“It looks easy when you do it,” he frowns and you giggle, handing the mirror to Sowon so she'd be able to look at her hair. 

“Do you like it,” you ask, a tad apprehensive and she beams, dimples that almost swallow her chubby cheeks surging forth. 

“Pretty!” she exclaims and you giggle, bopping her nose. “You are pretty.”

“And you are pretty too. right, daddy?”

You turn back to find Chris watching you, a smile so fond on his face that it renders your insides putty, coats your cheek in the palest shade of pink.

“Very much so,” he says, tone quieter, his eyes never leaving yours. 

Sowon suddenly climbs on her dad’s lap, star and moon stickers in hand. She places them all over his face, and he sits there diligently, arms wrapped around her midriff so she won't slip away. Every carefully placed sticker is punctuated by a soft gasp from him and a small giggle from her. You could feel the love radiating from both of them, a feeling so strong it made your heart twist in your chest. 

Were there red neon exits you weren’t aware of in your being? Ones through which love trickled away all these years ago? Were the spaces between your fingers carved to hold someone’s hand, or to make everything you've ever wanted slip from your grasp?

“What do you think?” Sowon startles you and you force a smile on your face, willing the heaviness in your heart to dissipate. There were questions you'd never find the answers to, you had to make peace with that.

“I love it!” you grin and Sowon nods, satisfied. You look down at your lap as Chris fixates his eyes on you, a worried crease growing between his eyebrows. 

“Fun is over, you need to do your homework, Miss Bang,” he scolds and you snort, as Sowon rolls her eyes slightly. 

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he fakes offense and you giggle as Sowon huffs slightly. “Dad, I told you I have no homework. I already did it with uncle Felix.” 

“Oh, right,” he deflates slightly before brightening up once again, “then, you should put away all these hairbrushes and ribbons, okay?”

“Will you watch a movie later with me?”

“Of course, baby.”

“Okay then,” she grins, quickly standing up to start putting away her things. you smile, getting up your turn to leave. Chris understands and stands with you on cue. 

“You can stay and watch the movie with us.”

“It's okay, I have some things to work on,” you turn around, but then you feel his fingers wrapping around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, hand still burning straight through your skin, igniting a million nerve ends with a simple touch. You avoid his eyes, looking down at the ground. It seems to be response enough for him. 

“We’re conditioned to say yes even when we aren’t, right?” he speaks softly, his words travel through your veins in a rapid course against the current of your blood— which one will reach your heart first and flood it? 

Your facade cracks. His voice wins. 

“So, you don't have to reply now,” his thumb swipes once across your pulse. “But I'll be here if you ever wish to tell the truth.” 

iii.

You’ve grown exceptionally fond of Chris in the span of mere months, more than you would like to admit to yourself. It was an easy task, as natural as the current of a waterfall. Yet, you did not plan for it, for a new emotion to settle on top of your lungs, to make you more aware of your heart and how it beats, slightly faster, around Chris. But it happened serendipitously, against all odds, when he knocked on your door at 10 p.m. asking for salt.

“Should I start buying groceries for you?” you joked, and it took Chris a millisecond longer to respond, his gaze wandering across your face, as if discovering the world’s eighth wonder, hidden in plain sight all these years. 

“For my defense, I have a daughter that likes experimenting with cooking,” he smiled, and you raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Just with salt?”

“She added four teaspoons of it in an omelet. Then forced me to eat it because I always tell her food shouldn't go to waste,” he shudders at the memory and you chuckle loudly. 

Chris knocks on the doors of your heart, once.

It happened when you spotted a cockroach the size of your palm on your bedroom wall. You would’ve killed it, you were going to, except it started flying towards you and you let out a loud shriek you didn’t know your vocal chords were capable of conjuring. So, you called Chris. 

“Can you please come over,” you murmured, crouching near the entrance door, a pair of slippers in your hand.

“Why are you whispering? are you okay?” he sounded worried, and you heard the turning of a lock as he opened the door to his apartment. He didn’t ask questions, instantly coming to your aid. A sudden urge to weep filled your being at his gesture. 

“There is a cockroach. a flying one,” you precised, horror dripping from your tongue and his laugh flooded your ear, tiny squeaks that made your hold on the slipper grow limp. 

“I'm from Australia,” he knocked on your door, and you stood up promptly. “I've seen worse,” he said once you finally opened it, his eyes softening incredibly when they met yours. 

He did kill the cockroach, by spraying your insect repellent enough times to asphyxiate you too. “I don't think I can sleep in there tonight,” you sighed, gulping down ice cold water, “why does it feel like we went through war?” 

“We? You were behind my back all the time.”

 “I was cheering you on, from afar. Spiritually.”

 “I can’t believe a cockroach scares you this much.”

 “You literally screamed when it flied towards you too.”

 “I didn't scream! I made a very manly, non-terrified sound.”

 “Mm, sure,” you giggled, voice softening at the blushing of the tip of his ears. Chris didn't have to force the door down to your heart, you willingly opened it for him. 

And after that, it was a race to find the silliest excuses to see one another. Chris suddenly taking up an inkling for baking, you manifesting a newfound interest in music, Sowon needing her makeup done for a dance, Chris visiting you in your bakery, Sowon craving your cookies and you teaching her the recipe, Chris knocking on your door and you knocking on his. The same giddy smiles on your faces as you usher each other in. And it always, always ending with a movie night. 

“Let's watch Tangled,” Sowon exclaims, clapping her hands excitedly. 

“Baby, we watched this movie for the past…” he looks at you for support. “Three,” you whisper, a bashful smile on your face. “Yeah, for the past three movie nights,” he whines slightly.

“But I love it,” she says, her pout morphing into a huge grin. “Again! Again! Again!”

“Fine,” he concedes, mouthing “save me,” from afar to you. You giggle softly while Sowon cozies up to your side, your arm naturally draping across her body while her legs stretch atop Chris’ lap, naturally, as if having you both by her side was the way things have always been. The only reality she’s ever known.

It is a fleeting fifty minutes as the three of you watch the movie, Sowon reciting excitedly the lines that she seems to remember. But then the quiet is replaced by her soft snores, her body growing light against you.

“She fell asleep,” you whisper, tapping Chris’ shoulder to catch his attention. He tilts his head to the side, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his eyes land on his daughter. 

“I'm sorry you have to watch the same movie every time,” he says apologetically and you shake your head. 

“I don't mind. Tangled is a good movie.” 

“Are you here just because of the movie?” he smiles, dimples peeking through. The juxtaposition between the weight of his words and the soft expression on his face makes a buzzing warmth spread through you. He’s cold and hot, in and out, yours but not. 

“What do you want me to be here for?” you throw back, squeezing his shoulder slightly. 

“The company.”

“I do find Sowon entertaining.”

“Just her?” he pouts and you giggle, tipping your head back. 

“And you too, I suppose, by extension.”

“By extension, mm,” he hums, as he gathers Sowon in his arms, freeing her from your hold. “Then I guess I shouldn't come visit you in your bakery anymore. Since you only enjoy my presence by extension.”

“So sassy,” you shout-whisper as you both walk to Sowon's bedroom, “I like your company too, idiot.” 

“Yeah?” he turns back to look at you, tone a tad bit too hopeful. He doesn’t care that he sounds eager for your approval, not when he feels as if he can only truly breathe when you're near. 

“Yeah, Chris, I really do,” you speak earnestly, and Chris bites his lower lip slightly, suddenly overwhelmed by the gentleness of your tone. Your eyes follow his action instantly. 

He lowers Sowon gently onto the bed and she stirs awake, blinking repeatedly at the both of you. “Yn,” she calls out quietly once her eyes land on yours and you kneel before her bed. Chris watches from the door entrance as Sowon cups her hand near your ear, before whispering something to you. He notices your body stiffening, your gaze fleeting to him before you relax, pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

He wishes he could freeze time, stitch this moment into his eyelids until it is the only thing he sees when he goes to sleep. Loneliness is too big of an enemy for one person to fight off, but it seems more harmless when you are near. 

Chris sees you right here, every night, not forcing your place into his family, but falling seamlessly into place. Perhaps you were the missing piece that’ll soothe the burn in his heart. Perhaps he’d let you in, even as fear paralyzes his being at the mere thought of asking you to stay. 

One week later. 

You've grown used to the knocks on your door at ungodly hours of the night, Chris seeking your company each time you both fail to fall asleep. Except this time, there is a chilling premonition in your heart as you walk to your home’s entrance, anxiety coiling like a steel ball in your throat. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask upon opening the door, locking eyes with Chris's bloodshot gaze.

“Sowon,” he heaves, tone laden with fear, so different from how he usually pronounces her name. The syllables pierce through your heart like an arrowhead dipped in alarm. 

“Sowon?” you question, peering behind him to his slightly ajar apartment door.

“Yes, she has a high fever, and it won’t come down. I tried everything, and I-I don’t know what to do anymore. She’s shaking, but I can’t—”He trembles, his quivers akin to delicate chinaware on the precipice of an earthquake, poised to shatter at your feet. You'd plunge to the ground first, anything to soften his impending collapse.  

“It’s okay,” you soothe, your voice soft as you grasp his wrist. “Let’s go see her, okay?”

“It's her first time being this sick,” he whispers, clearly distraught, one hand running through his freshly dyed blonde hair. 

“It's okay. Don’t panic, it happens. Did you give her medicine?”

“Yes, a few minutes ago,” he replies as you guide him towards her room.

“Good, it'll start working soon,” you reassure, opening the door and crouching before Sowon.

“Hey, Rapunzel,” you coo softly, and Sowon attempts to muster a smile. Her cheeks flush, eyes dim like withered petals.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, pressing your hand to her feverish forehead. You cast a wary glance at Chan, who's anxiously biting his thumb.

“Cold,” she whispers, and you nod, peeling off her blanket. “I know you are, but you have a high fever. We need to let it cool down, okay?”

“I-I’m shaking,” Sowon sighs, lower lip protruding and trembling, both from the iciness clawing at her frail being, and the tears welling in her waterline, like a cup on the brink of overflowing. 

“Shh, don't cry. It will pass, it's okay,” you murmur soothingly, cradling her face on your lap, gently moving damp strands of her hair behind her ear.

“Chris, can you bring me a towel and a bowl with cold water?” you ask softly, and the man startles, painfully peeling his eyes away from his daughter, as if doing so would consign her to a dark fate.

“Sure. Sure,” he repeats, scurrying out of the room.

Sowon buries her cheek in your thigh, small hands clinging tightly to yours. You tie her hair up into a loose bun as Chan hurriedly comes back, a bassinet in his hand.

“Thank you,” you smile, as he kneels beside the bed, his hand resting on Sowon’s knee gently.

“Hey sweetheart,” he coos softly, and Sowon blinks at him, light spilling over her face. 

“Hey daddy,” she replies as you dip the towel into the water, before squeezing the fabric to remove any liquid excess. 

“You're being so strong. I love you so much my pretty girl,” he says, bringing her small hand to rest upon his cheek, bestowing a gentle kiss on her palm. 

The moment feels so intimate, so tender, that you almost feel like an intruder. You imagine this is what thorns on roses must feel like, so out of place amid delicate petals and stems. 

“I love you too,” she grins, and you remain silent, diligently wiping her face and neck with the dampened towel. You soon lose track of the number of times you've repeated this motion, but Sowon’s eyes are now closed and her body is no longer trembling. 

You rest your palm upon her forehead, a sigh of relief escaping your body as you realize that her fever has gone down noticeably- the medicine finally taking effect.

“It's better now,” you smile reassuringly and Chris’s eyes widen, irises shaking as he looks back to his daughter. 

“Will she be okay?” 

“She will be. She just needs to sleep a bit.” 

“Okay, thank you.” 

“Can we prepare her something to eat meanwhile?” 

“Mm,” he absentmindedly nods, his fingers trailing down Sowon’s features delicately, resting upon her round cheeks. 

"She looks just like you," you softly smile.

"I know," he admits, not with pride but in surrender, as if his reflection was nothing but a cursed fate. His voice tastes like ocean water, salty, acid, suffocating.

“Chris…” you trail off and he shakes his head, abruptly standing up. 

“Let's make her chicken noodle soup. She loves it,” he says and you nod. A ticking bomb resides in his veins, devoid of a countdown, leaving you unsure of when he'll finally explode. 

You get your answer soon after—it takes two minutes and thirty-three seconds for the first tear to roll down Chris’s cheek. You spot it as you retrieve carrots from the fridge, averting your gaze as Chan angrily wipes it away.

A few seconds later, five tears follow the same agonizing trail, and now the knife is shaking in Chris’s hands. He squeezes his eyes shut as if frustrated by his pain, by the emotions escaping through the cracks in his heart.

You stay silent, bringing the water to a simmer.

The clank of metal against the counter snaps your attention, and you see Chris with his head lowered down, his hands tightly clutching the counter.

Your tongue moves before you can order it to speak. 

"Chris," you call out, your hand finding its place on his back. An ugly sob escapes his lips, a raw cry unearthed from the depths of the soil where he buried his feelings, never allowing himself the grace of grieving, then moving on. 

“I'm a horrible father,” he utters so brokenly as if this idea were cemented into his head, woven into every thought of himself—an adjective that lingers like a phantom each time Sowon calls him dad.

“You're not, what are you saying?” you gently turn him around so he'd face you. But his eyes remain downcast, as if ashamed to meet your gaze. 

“I didn't know what to do. I panicked. I-I wasn't enough to help her.”

“It's okay, you can't know everything, you are trying your best-”

“No, no, no, it's not just about this!” he snaps,  despair clinging to his eyes as he finally looks at you. “It’s hard. It’s so hard to be here alone, and I- I try but it's not enough, I can't do everything and I'm not a good enough parent for her, there will a-always be something missing.” 

“You're wrong,” you say but he shakes his head in disagreement. “Chris, you're wrong,” you cradle his face, taking you both by surprise. Your thumb swipes gently underneath the skin of his eyes, wiping his cascading tears. 

“You love Sowon. And she can feel it, she can see it, she can hear it. Everyone can. A parent can't be perfect, but they should love. And you love her.” 

“What if I can't even love her enough for a father? How will I ever fill the role of two parents?” he's leaning onto your palm, hanging onto your every word. You'd sit for hours and untangle every thread of his mind if you have to, until you single out the infested one and burn it away. 

“She loves you Chris. She looks at you as if you hang every star in the sky. As if you're responsible for every good thing that happens in our world. She loves you and you love her.”

You gaze up at the ceiling, tears welling in your eyes. Chan notices the subtle tremble in your hand against his cheek.

“If I had someone who loved me as much as you love Sowon when I was a child, I would've turned out so differently,” you smile bitterly, swallowing down the lump in your throat. 

“You won't be a perfect dad. You can't be. But she won't grow up with a throbbing heart, pulsating because of a void that cannot be filled. Her veins won't be poisoned by hate and abandonment. Because she knows what it's like to be loved,” you pause, as your voice breaks, traitorous tears rolling down your cheeks. “To be cared for.” 

Your eyes hold his in a silent conversation, secretly telling him what your tongue cannot speak of— Sowon, an untarnished blossom, won't unfurl into a solitary flower the way you did.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers after a while, eyes softening in understanding. His knuckles brush gently against your cheek. 

“Why are you apologizing?” 

“So you'd find a reason within you to forgive,” he says, as he leans forward to press a tender kiss on your forehead. And somehow it feels more intimate than any way you've been touched before. 

Five days later.

chris [11:32 p.m.]: you up?

yn [11:32 p.m.]: i just got bad flashbacks to my college years

chris [11:33 p.m.]: ajaksjsbsbbs

chris [11:33 p.m.]: i didn’t mean it like that ㅠㅠ 

chris [11:33 p.m.]: wanna come over? i'm in the studio but im not feeling inspired 

yn [11:34 p.m.]: and how will i help? 

chris [11:34 p.m.]: i find your presence inspiring 

You don’t reply, instead putting on your slippers and walking over to his apartment. He opens the door before you even have the chance to knock. 

“What are you working on?” you ask once you’re settled atop his chair, spinning around slightly. He looks down at the pillow on his lap, lightly plucking its pink fur. “A song for Sowon,” he admits softly and your eyes grow a little wide. 

“That is so sweet,” you pout, inching closer to him. “How is it going?”

“I've finished the melody and now I'm working on the lyrics. There is just.. so much i want to tell her, i'm unsure if ill be able to express it well.” 

“Can I read what you wrote?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” he searches through his papers. “Here.”

May these words be the first to find your ears

The world is brighter than the sun now that you're here

I'll give you everything I have

I'll teach you everything I know

I promise I'll do better

I will soften every edge

I'll hold the world to its best

And I'll do better

Tears spring to your eyes unexpectedly, you try to stop their flow but they fall upon the paper, splattering like a broken mosaic, mimicking the brokenness of your own heart. 

“I'm sorry,” you spin around, your back to him as you attempt to dry your tears, and yet they show no desire to stop. Chris is in your heart and he’s kicking every other emotion out, forcing you to make amends with your sadness, the one you buried years, years ago. 

Chris gently grabs the back of the chair, pulling you back to him before spinning your chair once again until you are facing him. You bury your face in your hands and his rests reassuringly on your knee, squeezing it slightly. “Is it so bad it made you sob?” 

“Shut up, you know this isn’t the case.” 

His hand delicately traces up your arm, gently lifting your fingers from your face. He kneels before you, his thumb tenderly wiping away the traces of tears on your cheeks.

“Talk to me?” 

“It's so beautiful, so warm, so loving. Everything a parent should think of their child,” a traitorous hiccup escapes your lips. “Everything my parents never felt for me.” 

Chris’ mouth morphs into a pout, eyebrows scrunching tightly. You shake your head, smoothing down the worried crease between his eyes. 

“I don't feel sad over things I can't control and I love myself enough now to compensate for what I didn't have, but sometimes-'' your voice breaks, Chan’s hold on your hands tightens. “It stings to remember what could’ve been.” 

Stings was an understatement, it is rather a pulsating void, throbbing in ache every day, calling out for its missing piece. How can I fill you with what was lost when it chose to walk away? 

“Come here,” he whispers, coaxing you to your feet, his arms enveloping your body as he guides your head to the crook of his neck. His body runs warm, the material of his sweatshirt soft, and he smells nice too, the contours of his muscles tailor-made to complement the ridges of your own. 

“You grew up well, Yn. You did well.”

You clutch his shirt, tightening your grip as you fist the fabric in your palm. He's patting your back, and time slows down to match the rhythm of his touch. 

“Love can be hard, I know. Especially when the people who left are the ones supposed to be staying.” 

He understands, more than anyone you know. He missed out on a different kind of love too, two facets of the same coin. 

“You’re doing well too, Chris. You shouldn’t doubt yourself as much,” your arms trail up to encircle his neck, as his nose tickles your hair. You're the one hugging him now. “Sowon is really smart, she told me that she loves you a lot. She can feel it. She sees everything you do for her.”

“Is that what she told you that movie night?”

“Partly,” you whisper, and Chris leans away slightly, his warm palms still pressed to your waist, holding you close. 

“What else did she tell you?” he asks, curiosity barely hidden in his tone.

You pause for a while, eyes going over the entire room before finally locking on him.

“She thanked me, said that I make you smile more.” You suck in a deep breath, gathering your courage. “Do I?” 

“There are smile lines that don’t show on my face until you're near.” 

“Oh.” That is the only coherent response you can formulate, and Chris giggles, a tiny squeak escaping his lips in a huff. “Cute,” he murmurs, planting a tender kiss on your temple. His lips linger, holding onto the moment a beat longer than necessary, causing your eyes to close in delight. Both of you find yourselves blushing as he leans away, a shared warmth coloring the space between you.

“Sorry, didn't mean to make the mood somber,” you say sheepishly as you sit back down, eyeing Chris’s laptop. “I wanna hear this,” you quickly point to a random track on his screen before he can reply, hoping to make the sadness flee away.

“This one? It’s not really good, let's listen to something else,” his rambling and eagerness to change the track pique your curiosity and you quickly click on the song before he can stop you.

connected.mp3 starts playing. 

Sultry beats inundate your ears, weaving through your veins and whisking you away to the pulsating rhythm of a dance club. You knew Chris produced good music, yet you never fathomed that his voice could be so luxuriously rich, cascading over you like molten wax. You feel a blush rise to your cheeks at the suggestive lyrics, the innuendos peeking behind every word. And then, a sudden jealousy claws at your heart, at the thought of Chris hunched in his studio, fantasizing about connecting with someone who isn’t you. 

You wished to be the only one Chris liked. 

“It’s a- a demo for one of my clients,” he explains through a stutter once the song is done, and you nod meekly, willing your body’s temperature to go down, for the possessivity crinkling in you to fizzle out. 

So, you put on your best taunting smirk.

“I know you want me don’t crumble.. No need to be desperate we’re just getting started,” you sing-song back. “You were feeling so cocky when you wrote this, right?” you grin, inching your chair closer to his. “Feeling yourself, Mr. Bang?”

He chuckles with a hint of annoyance, running his tongue along the expanse of his lower lip. Leaning back into his chair, he casually spreads his legs a bit wider, a gesture that suddenly leaves you feeling dizzy, on him.

“It’s cute how affected you seem by it,” he throws nonchalantly, crossing his arms before his chest.

“I'm not,” you smile, although your erratic heartbeat spoke of a different tale, you just didn't need to voice it to him. “I think you were the one getting all hot and bothered in your studio,” you stand between his legs, hovering over him as he leans back fully in his chair. 

“I was thinking of a pretty girl.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm,” he suddenly grabs your waist, you feel like your entire body is ablaze. “The prettiest.”

"Who is she?" you exhale, teetering on the edge of crashing your lips onto his, like an incoherent love poem, hastily scrambled on a notebook in a fit of anger.

“y–” The door suddenly opens, Sowon’s small frame standing by the door, she’s rubbing her eyes tiredly, her chick plushie dangling from her hand (a gift from her uncle Felix as she explained to you). You quickly scramble away from Chris as he clears his throat loudly.

“Daddy, I can't sleep,” she says faintly, a tiny pout drawn on her lips, and you can see Chris physically melt at her words, at the way she paddles to his chair, and tries her best to climb up his legs. She fails to do so, so he quickly scopes her up his arms until she’s buried in his hold. Her small hands wound up around his neck, and he tenderly pats down her hair, his gaze never wavering from her frame.

“Want me to sing to you, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” she whispers, before making grabby hands at you, your heart softens like clay dough as you scoot closer, enclosing her fingers in your hold. 

“Sleep well, Sowonnie,” you whisper. 

“Can’t you stay with us?” she asks and you feel your blood freeze in your veins, your heart skipping three beats at once.

To stay. What a frightening concept. Even more scary when you realize that you aren’t opposed to it. 

You yearn to stay, for the first time in years, you wish you could. 

You swallow the growing lump in your throat, before smiling reassuringly. “I'll stay till you fall asleep.” 

Conditions, it is the way it has always been for you. staying till you’re no longer useful, staying till you're no longer wanted. Staying, but always with a time limit, always with an expiration date. 

iv. 

You’re avoiding him. 

Chris knows you are, since you no longer come over to his house, claiming that you’re tired, or that you have an important order to bake for the next day. He would have believed you had he not seen you only once in the past three weeks. 

Those were excuses, and each one of them weighed heavily on Chris’ heart, on his home too, his studio particularly, the one that got used to the sound of your laugh. 

He misses you. He never thought he’d miss someone again, craving you presence as if every breath leaving his body depended on you. He wasn’t a stranger to intimacy, fleeting hookups every now and then. Strangers invited him to their bed, knowing what they were signing up for– one night of pleasure, never to be seen again, their faces blurring into an indistinct mass in his mind, like an impressionist painting where no features stand out. Yet, with you, every detail is etched in his memory. 

He could pick you out of a crowded room, recognize the delicate curve of your neck, the fullness of your lips, and the way your nose scrunches when you smile.

He could draw the moles scattered on your body from memory alone, recognize your scent from miles away– your cotton shampoo and the specific laundry detergent you love to use and a hint of vanilla that never truly leaves you. 

He’d remember the curve of your lashes and the cascading of your hair, the airy giggles you leave across like a trail for him to follow everywhere, and your eyes– the way they gazed at him, softening slightly around the edges, shining brightly as if crafted from stardust, the way they softened even more when you looked at Sowon, voice growing slightly high pitched as you listened to his daughter’s rambles.

How did you manage to make his home yours without ever living in it?

“Dad?” Sowon calls out and he snaps his head up, locking eyes with his little girl. She’s sitting on a high stool, munching on her pizza, a pensive look on her face.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he asks, walking over to her side.

“Where is Ynnie?” she asks in a small voice and he freezes, mulling over his response. He settles for the truth.

“I don't know, baby.”

“Does she not want to play with me anymore?” Sowon whispers, and he doesn’t remember his daughter ever being this tentative about voicing a question. 

“No!” he's quick to reassure, cradling Sowon’s face between his much larger hands. “Of course not baby she loves you a lot.”

“Okay…” she nods, a small pout drawn on her lips still. Chris senses his heart physically crack in his chest.

“Do you wanna work in the studio with me?” he says in a joyful tone, and she instantly cheers up, the twinkle in her eyes found again. “Yes!” 

“Finish your food first, okay Wonnie?” 

“Okay!” 

In Chris's life, regrets have been scarce, and certainly not in the form of Sowon, his beacon of hope, as he named her. Having her was beholding a sun wherever he went. However, a fear lingers, a whisper in his heart, suggesting that letting you go might be his one true regret.

So when his daughter falls asleep, he knocks on your door once again. He's suddenly transported into that cold night, months ago, where he asked you for flour. Had he known you were behind it he would’ve knocked much sooner. 

“Hi,” you greet softly once you open the door. He takes a step forward, his wolf slippers matching with Sowon’s bump into your plain ones. You avert your gaze, finding anything but him to fixate on.

“You're avoiding me,” he says matter-of-factly, voice soft, resigning to you.

“I'm not,” you contradict, even as your eyes remain on the ground. He finds himself missing the color of your irises.

"Look at me, hm?" he implores, and you stay rooted in place. A soft sigh escapes him as he cradles your right cheek with his warm hand, his thumb gently sweeping across your cheekbone. "Yn, please, I want to look at you."

Maybe it is the pleading tone of his voice or the way his thumb tenderly grazes your skin, but something about Chris makes your resolve unravel, threads of fear unknotting before your eyes. So, you finally look at him. An exhale of relief escapes him. 

And then you speak.

“You asked me if I was okay, and I didn't reply, back then,” you say, leaning your head further against his palm as tears well up in your waterline. “Do you still want to know my answer?”

“Of course, always.”

“I'm happy. With you, with sowon. I feel this warmth that I have never known before when I'm with you. It was almost easy to forget I've known you during winter,” you chuckle dryly, “but it is all an illusion, I lie to myself thinking I could stay, I… I can't, I-“

“What if I ask you to stay?” he brings your hand to his heart, where it beats erratically, pulse seeping through your skin.

He’s as scared as you are.

“Chris…”

“What if I told you, Yn, please stay with me,” he breathes out, guiding your hand to gently cup his cheek. “Would you? Would you stay?”

“I'm terrified,” you whisper, as he tilts his head, bestowing a tender kiss on your palm. 

“I know, so am I. But, you make me believe that even my bruised parts are worthy of love.”

He wins, before years of skeletons and piled up doubts, he wins. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I'm staying.”

“You are?”

“I am,” you giggle lightly and he staggers back, the sun pouring into his smile. 

“Um, wow, okay. Thank you for staying,” his voice sounds airy, happiness floating in his tone, and you find it contagious, imprinting into your own.

“Thank you for asking me to stay.”

“You made it less daunting,” he pats your head, smoothing your hair down. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He giggles in response and you can't help but mirror the sound. “Why are you so nervous?”

“Whaaat? I'm not,” his tone grows high-pitched and you roll your eyes amusedly. 

“What happened to connected Chris?” 

“He is flustered by the girl he wrote about.”

Your cheeks tint red as he places a hand above your head, caging you in place. 

“I think the girl should get paid for being the muse.”

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, “I'll think about it.” His grin softens, as a content expression washes over his face. You know you must look the same. “Let's talk more tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” you grin, before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Good night, Chris.”

“Good night, yn.”

You quietly watch as he walks to his apartment door, his hand settling on the door knob. He pauses, for a few seconds where the air around you stills, before swiveling around and walking over to you again. 

you win. 

“I forgot something,” he breathes out, before crashing his lips onto yours, furiously, as if needing to imprint his essence onto you, tainting your soul the way you have tainted him, permanently altering the composition of his being. His lips move on yours as if they've done this before, a dance they have rehearsed countless times, perhaps in all the dreams Chris visited you in. Yet, nothing compares to how it feels to have him touch you, lick your lower lip and drag his hand up your hips, press you against your apartment door, and nibble at your neck. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the passion he shows you, for how delicious it feels to be pressed against him, for the storm that your lips conjure, swirling in your heart in vibrant shades of red. Then, for the softness of his lips as they slow down their course, plump and rosy as they meet your own, tenderly, more gently, one kiss after the other. “My hope,” he whispers, as his lips find yours again, “my missing piece.”

He’s hot and cold, in yet seeking no out, finally yours.

bonus (one year later). 

“So I brought the eggs, milk, sugar,” Chris enumerates as he takes out the groceries, and you turn to look at Sowon to find her already gazing at you, a mischievous look on her face. 

“How much do you wanna bet he forgot flour?” you whisper and she giggles, burying her face in her hands to stifle her laugh.

“And… Wait, where is the flour?” he trails off and you burst out laughing, as you and Sowon high-five each other excitedly. 

“Daddy, you are really bad at groceries.”

“Am I?” he smiles sheepishly, fiddling with his earlobe in a manner that still makes your heart melt, renders your insides butterflies speaking of Chris’ name.

“Yes, it’s good Mom bought it,” she says naturally, looking down at her iPad. You and Chris freeze in your tracks, eyes instantly locking with one another, yours and his, glossy with emotion, a loving tide enveloping you both. 

It's her first time calling you mom. 

You swallow down the lump in your throat, crafted not by thorns but by petals, not by ache but with love, before placing your chin on the small of her shoulder, murmuring softly. "Mm, will you help me bake, baby?"

“Yes! I wanna be a baker when I grow up, just like you.”

“What happened to being a stylist?”

“I can't be both?” she frowns innocently. 

“You can be anything you want, princess.” you bop her nose and she giggles, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. 

In the grip of winter, Chris discovers a warmth that defies the season, casting off years of cold from the recesses of his bones. A soft smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, his hopes, his girls, the three of you clad in wolf slippers.

He’ll propose to you tomorrow.

#skz x reader #skz x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids angst #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #skz imagines #stray kids imagine #stray kids reactions #skz angst #skz fanfic #chan fluff #chan x reader #bang chan x reader #bang chan fluff #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz au

[smileysuh]

christmas puppy

🌙 staring. Jaehyun x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “God, you’re so jealous,” you laugh. Your best friend’s brother doesn’t usually act this way, at his frat, everyone knows you’re his, no one would dare come near you- but here, in your hometown, surrounded by past crushes and would be romancables, it’s open season, and it’s clear that it’s making Jaehyun uncomfortable.

tw/cw. multiple sex scenes, airplane sex, best friend's brother Jae touching reader while his sister is drunk/asleep next to them, fingering, multiple orgasms, phone sex, dirty talk, praise, slight stalking/use of snapmaps to obsess over a crush, jealousy, unprotected sex, Jae is a munch, sibling antics, 'loser' jae, exhibitionism, directed masturbation, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel. (his) puppy.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 11k

🍭 aus. uni/frat au, best friend's brother Jae, boy next door Jae, Christmas, secret romance, established relationship, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. It's the way I'm kind of in love with him, he's so stupidly soft

Prologue

“We really shouldn’t be doing this,” you groan as your best friend’s brother slips his hand under your shirt, pressing you tighter against the door of his frathouse bedroom.

“You’re right,” Jaehyun concedes, but his lips continue their fevered pace against your throat, and his thumb brushes by your nipple, making you moan louder.

“Your sister-”

“Never has to know,” he finishes for you.

He pinches your nipple gently and it has you whining, your panties growing wetter by the second. But it’s only a brief distraction before your mind is spinning again. “We need to stop,” you say, but in the same sentence, you reach between your bodies to palm Jaehyun’s cock through his jeans.

“We can stop,” Jaehyun nods, finally pulling away from your neck to look you in the eyes. “Tell me to stop.”

You stare at the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. The man you grew up with. The older brother of your best friend, the boy next door. He’d been at the center of all your fantasies in high school- but you’d never thought you’d actually end up in this situation with him… repeatedly. 

You can’t say no, and you both know it.

Jaehyun smirks, a pretty dimple on display, and then he’s smashing his lips to yours. His hands wrap around your waist, and he tosses you onto his bed. By the time he’s kissed down your body and lifted up your skirt, all your objections have dissipated from your mind.

There’s only you and Jaehyun, and right now, that’s all that matters.

One

“I’m literally dying to see you,” Nari grins the moment you open Facetime.

You laugh, setting your textbook aside. “You’re seeing me now.”

“Don’t be like that,” Nari rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean. Christmas! Just a few more exams, and by this time two weeks from now, we’ll be making cookies and Christmas shopping and watching movies and hitting on cute boys at the skating rink-”

You smile at the thought, although your heart picks up speed at the mention of boys.

“I hear Mark Lee is going to be home for Christmas, and so is his cousin Jeno- I’m thinking, if we play our cards right, maybe we can swing a double date, or we could invite them to my family Christmas party and see what happens under the mistletoe!” Nari continues.   

“Are you still crushing on Mark?” you laugh, shocked that her infatuation with her old high school crush is still alive and well despite going to a different uni than the resident hockey prodigy.

“Of course!” Nari’s expression falls. “Wait, aren’t you still into Jeno?”

“Honestly?” You take a deep breath. “We’ve done a whole term at our new universities, and I feel like it would be better for me to find someone here. Long distance isn’t my thing.”

“Well, in that case… I suppose I can talk to my brother and have him set you up with one of his frat friends,” - the thought of Jaehyun setting you up with anyone other than himself is almost comical, and you have to fight the laugh that bubbles inside of you - “actually, that brings me to the reason I called! I know you and Jae were going to leave to fly home around the same time, but it turns out you booked the same flight- what are the odds huh?”

Your heart skips a beat again. You hadn’t thought much of telling Jaehyun your flight time three nights ago after he’d fucked you stupid- hadn’t realized there might be an ulterior motive to his question. 

Of course he’d get the same flight as you.

You’ve been sleeping together for just over two months now, and the fratboy always has a way of ending up in the same room as you- although, he’d been using Snapchat maps to do it originally. 

The man is obsessed- and you kind of love it.

You’d mentioned wanting to join the mile-high club to him the fourth time you’d hooked up, when you’d discussed sex bucket lists, but you’d never imagined he would remember it- or try to put it into practice.

“Anyways, I know you two aren’t close,” Nari explains, “but I thought you might want to coordinate with him, and when you land, I can pick you both up from the airport, save your mom a trip.”

You swallow thickly before nodding. “That would be nice.” 

It would be nice… but it won’t be easy.

You’re shocked you’ve even kept your little secret this long, and you’re dreading what it will be like once you’re in person with your best friend. Hiding the fact that you’re fucking her brother while at uni with him is one thing, doing it in front of Nari will be another. 

Two

“I know what’s making you tense,” Jaehyun says, pulling his face from between your thighs and straightening to stare down at you.

“Exam season?” you suggest, mind half occupied with the final you have tomorrow.

“You’ve had big tests before and it’s never taken this long to make you cum,” Jaehyun scoffs. “Not that I mind, of course,” he leans down to press a quick kiss to your lips, adjusting on top of you while his cock slides between your wet pussy lips, teasing you. “You’re worried about seeing Nari.”

“Are you seriously going to talk about her while you put your cock in me?” you laugh, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders.

“I’m not inside you yet,” he grins, pausing his grinding movements. 

“And I hate that you’re not,” you groan, your core still throbbing from the orgasm he’d just given you with his tongue.

“Be for real with me for a moment,” Jaehyun urges, leaning down to press his lips to your throat. “Is it really the worst thing in the world if Nari finds out about us?”

“Puppy-”

“It’s been two months. We’ve been fucking for two months, angel. I know you don’t like to use official terms but come on… you know what we are to each other. Isn’t Christmas the best time to tell everyone?”

“Tell them what? That we’re fucking?”

“Don’t make me use the G word, because I will,” he warns.

“The G word?” you fake innocence.

With a low groan, Jaehyun pushes his cock into you. “Christmas is the best time to tell everyone that you’re my girlfriend.”

“Is that what I am?” you tease, although your stomach erupts in butterflies at the notion. 

Jaehyun tangles his fingers with yours, pressing them against the pillows while he begins to thrust into you. “Uh huh.”

“You’re so soft, puppy.”

“I’m actually really hard,” he smirks, looking down at you with mischievous eyes. “No one makes me hard like you do.”

You laugh. “How romantic.”

“Look-” he swallows thickly, holding your hands tighter while rutting into you, “we’re flying home together- Nari might guess it even if we don’t tell her.”

“If you look at me the way you’re looking at me right now, it will be kind of obvious,” you admit. 

Jaehyun has taken to staring at you like a lovesick puppy, and your new uni friends are the first ones who pointed it out to you. At the time, you’d assumed they were being crazy- when you’d first started fucking Jaehyun, you’d thought he’d always just be your best friend’s hot older brother. You’d had no way of ever anticipating that he’d fall for you as hard as he has.

“So we should just tell her,” Jaehyun suggests.

“What if I want to keep you as my dirty little secret?” you sigh. “Just for a bit longer.”

You can feel his hot breath against your face, can see that he’s not happy with the idea, but he nods anyway. “Whatever you want, angel.”

“Thank you, puppy.”

Lifting your head off the pillows, you press your lips to Jaehyun’s, and that’s the last you have to say on the matter before getting lost in him.

Three

“Fuck, angel,” Jaehyun groans, digging his fingers into your thighs while your panting and muffled moans fill the small airplane bathroom, “I don’t know how I’m going to go five days without this.”

You can only groan against his palm, eyes rolling into the back of your head while he fucks you harder. Your own fingers work your clit, and your pussy is clinging desperately to his cock.

You’re already on the edge- Jae had been teasing you under your blanket at your seats, and the exhibitionism of this whole situation has your heart racing a million beats a minute. 

“I’m sure we can find some time for a few quickies, right?” Jaehyun asks, and you can hear the desperation in his voice. “My sister isn’t going to hog you the whole time-”

You open your eyes, giving Jaehyun a warning look. It’s cute that he’s so worried about his sister- but you hate when he brings her up while balls deep inside your wet pussy- your orgasm so close you can almost taste it-

“Fuck, yeah, you’re right- shit,” Jaehyun gives his head a small shake. “We’ll make this work,” he insists, taking his hand from your mouth so he can crash his lips to your own, fucking you even harder.

It’s a wonder that the whole airplane isn’t rocking with the intensity of his thrusts, and you nearly have a heart attack when the plane hits turbulence just as you both cum.

You cling to each other, shaking with emotion as the small bathroom jolts and rumbles.

The plane steadies out and Jaehyun smiles into your kiss, laughing a little at the way you’d both reacted.

“We should get back to our seats,” he whispers.

“You go out first, I’ll be there in a sec,” you nod, allowing him to help you back onto your feet.

Your legs feel like jelly, and with one final press of his lips to your own, Jaehyun pulls up his sweats and then slips out of the airplane bathroom, leaving you alone with your thoughts and anxieties. 

Four

“Seriously, I should be pulling my own bag,” you say for the third time since Jaehyun had lifted your luggage off the carousel. 

“You’ve got a bag,” he grins, eying the duffle over your shoulder.

“When Nari sees this, she’s going to know something is up.”

“Maybe she’ll think I’m just being a good brother,” Jaehyun points out. “Besides, she won’t know I pulled your bag through the airport. She’ll just show up with her car, and watch me put your stuff in the trunk. That’s not so bad, is it?”

You suppose he’s right, but your nerves are getting the better of you.

It’s hard to stand so close to Jaehyun without latching onto his side. It’s cold out too, and your jacket is fine, but you know Jaehyun is warmer- know that if you were to sneak your hands under his parka and touch his perfect abs, you’d heat up in no time-

“There she is,” Jaehyun tells you, eying the line of cars waiting to pull up for a brief stop in front of the terminal.

Nari has brought her family Range Rover, and soon the boxy SUV is coming to a stop in front of you. Your best friend jumps out of the driver’s seat, running around the large car to throw her arms around you.

She belts out your name as she embraces you, the fur hood of her jacket tickling your nose. You can’t help but smile, melting into the hug. 

“I can’t believe you’re finally here!” Nari grins, pulling away to get a good look at you. “It’s been way too long, babes!”

You hear a small scoff, and you turn to see Jaehyun already busy at work putting your luggage in the back of the SUV.

“I missed you too, Jae,” Nari calls. “But this is my best friend, excuse me for welcoming her first.”

“I didn’t say anything,” the dimpled frat boy smirks, and you’re struck by the beauty of Jeong genes. Both siblings have perfect black hair, perfect little dimples that pop out when they smile, and perfect brown eyes that are always full of admiration when they look at someone they care about.

After one more small squeeze, Nari bounds over to her brother. You watch as Jaehyun lifts her from the ground, spinning your best friend around while she squeals with delight. 

“Jeeze, Jae,” Nari gasps when she’s set on her feet again, “have you been bulking again? You’re fucking huge!”

You want to groan at the statement, because it’s so true. 

Jaehyun had always been attractive, but then he’d gone to uni, joined the football team- and now, he’s as sexy as ever. His shoulders are broad, his chest sculpted by the gods, his arms all beefy and thick and always ready to throw you onto his bed-

The pretty fratboy notices you staring, and he flashes you a wink over his sister’s shoulder. You break eye contact, staring down at the pavement. 

“Was the flight okay?” Nari asks, coming over to join you again. 

“We hit a bit of turbulence,” Jaehyun answers smoothly. “But I’d say it was a good trip.”

Your skin heats at the memory of him railing you less than an hour ago. You wonder if your panties are wet from watching him be the hottest man you’ve ever seen- or from his cum still dripping out of you.

It feels dirty- but exhilarating at the same time. Jae’s your sinful little secret, and despite the wish that he didn’t have to be, it’s part of the fun.

“You seem off, babes,” Nari says, reaching over to touch your arm. “Are you okay?”

“Just tired.” You smile softly. “Didn’t sleep much on the plane.”

“Well, when we get home, I can make us some espresso martinis,” Nari winks. 

Before you can say anything else, a car honks behind you, making you jump. 

“We should get going,” Jaehyun says, reaching for the door to the driver’s passenger seat. “Don’t want to hold up the line.”

Instead of entering the car himself, Jaehyun looks at you pointedly. When you furrow your brows with confusion, he makes a small motion with his head, a motion that says ‘get in.’

While Nari hurries around the front of the car, you step closer to her brother. “You’re opening car doors for me now?”

“Just being chivalrous,” he grins.

You can feel his breath against your face, can see it in the cold air- he’s so close, his lips all perfect and pink and plump-

“Get in bitches, we’re going home!” Nari yells as she hops into the car.

And just like that, the spell is broken. You tear yourself away from Jaehyun, getting into the SUV while he closes the door behind you, taking his own seat in the back.

“Okay, so I know you’re only here for five days, but we still have to do all our Christmas traditions,” Nari says as she carefully pulls out of the terminal line. 

“All of them?” you squeak. You’d figured you’d do a few of the things you’ve been doing with Nari since high school, but the idea that you’ll do all of them? “Do we have the time?”

“Well, if we start tonight with a girls' night, we can bake cookies, have a sleepover, watch some Christmas movies, have our espresso martinis- and then tomorrow we can go skating. I’m pretty sure the Lee boys will be there, I bumped into Mark yesterday and he said he has to be on the ice every day, even during his break-”

“You’re still into Mark, huh?” Jaehyun laughs, leaning forward from the backseat to join the conversation.

“Of course.” Nari flips a long, dark, silky smooth strand of hair over her shoulder, eying her brother through the rearview mirror. “He’s literally adorable.”

“Sure he is,” her brother scoffs.

“Anyways, as I was saying,” Nari grabs your thigh, squeezing gently, “Mark said Jeno was flying in- I think last night? So if we go skating tomorrow, we could probably see them both, maybe get apple cider from the parking lot food truck together after a cute little double date-”

“Double date?” You can feel Jaehyun’s breath against your neck. “Since when are you both into Lee’s?”

“Since when are you joining in on girl talk?” Nari fires back at her brother. “Can’t you let us plan in peace?”

“I told you I’m not into Jeno anymore,” you say quietly, feeling your skin prickle under Jaehyun’s hard gaze as you address his sister. 

“Yeah, your whole long-distance thing- well, who says this has to be a relationship? We can have a bit of fun, can’t we?”

You and Jaehyun both sigh, and you hear the fratboy sit back in his seat, clearly exasperated.

“This is what happens when you join girl talk, Jae,” Nari scolds her brother. “If you don’t want to hear the juicy details, put some headphones on.”

“I’m fine with juicy details,” Jaehyun notes, “I just don’t like hearing about your random hook-up plans.”

“As if you wouldn’t hit on Irene if you saw her around town while you’re here,” Nari points out.

“Irene?” You perk up at the mention of the girl who used to be the cheerleading captain at your high school. She’s a year older than you, one year younger than Jaehyun- You swivel in your seat to address the man you’ve been sleeping with for two months. “You have a crush on Irene?”

“Oh my god, have you never heard this?” Nari practically wiggles in excitement. “Jaehyun was obsessed with her. Like- truly obsessed.”

“I was not-”

“You a hundred percent were!” Nari insists. “When Jae’s obsessed, he does this thing where he low key stalks the girl- like, looks at her location on Snapmaps and then just ‘happens’ to end up in the same place and bump into her-”

Your skin tingles. You’d known Jaehyun had used that tactic on you, but you hadn’t realized that it was a common theme of obsession for him. 

When you sneak a look over your shoulder at the fratboy, you find his entire face has turned pink. “Nari, stop-” he groans.

“I’ll stop if you stop,” his sister fires back.

“Fine, yeah, I won’t say anything,” Jaehyun sighs.

“Good!” Nari grins in triumph. “So as I was saying- if we do skating tomorrow, and make gingerbread houses the next day, we can get most of our traditions done before the Christmas eve party.”

“You know what?” You take a breath as the car comes to a stop at a red light. “It sounds like you have this whole thing planned, so let’s just do it. Whatever you want.”

“Really!?” Nari beams, turning to look at you.

“Uh huh,” you nod. “Whatever you want.”

“Eeee!” your best friend throws her arms around you, leaning over the middle panel to hug you tight.

“Nari, the road!” Jaehyun yells, hand grabbing at the shoulder of your seat.

“Right-” Nari pulls away from you, turning her attention back to driving. The light is green now, and she hits the gas just as the person behind you begins to honk. “I’m just so excited- girls' night!”

“More like girls' week,” Jaehyun sighs from behind you.

“And what about it!?” Nari grins. “Babes,” her attention shifts to you again, “we should do takeout tonight. I know your mom is probably going to cook, but I’ve been missing our pho place for literal months-”

Jaehyun perks up behind you. “The pho place down on Wayfare?” 

“As if there’s any other pho place,” Nari sasses.

“Shit, I could go for some of that too.”

“Then get it yourself, we’re discussing girl’s night, Jae. You’re not invited.”

You can’t help but grin to yourself at their bickering. 

Soon you’re pulling up in front of your houses. When Jaehyun takes your luggage out of the back, you grab the handle, offering him a small smile. “Thanks for this, I can take it from here.”

“Have fun tonight,” he tells you.

“With your sister? Always.” 

Five

You haven’t been on skates since last Christmas, and stepping onto the ice makes you wobbly. Nari grabs onto your arm, giggling at your antics. 

“Don’t make fun of me,” you tell her, although you’re grinning at your own ineptitude as well.

“I’m not,” she insists. “You’re adorable. Jeno’s gonna love this, it will give him an excuse to come hold your hand.”

“Jesus, I already told you I don’t want Jeno-” 

As the words escape your mouth, you catch sight of the Lee cousins. Mark is wearing blue jeans, a red crewneck and a beanie, his cheeks flushed. He’s grinning at the man next to him, the Lee Jeno in question.

Your sentence gets caught in your throat, because damn, even from across the rink, Jeno looks good. Unlike his colorful cousin, Jeno is in full black. Joggers and a hoodie, but even through the thick fabrics, the broad set of his shoulders is undeniable. 

Had everyone gotten hotter in the past few months? 

“Where did you say Jeno ended up going to uni again?” you ask.

Nari grins knowingly. “He went down south somewhere, a lacrosse scholarship, remember?”

Jeno had been a lean jock type in high school, but now, he looks like certified Angus beef, and you want to take a bite. 

You might call Jaehyun puppy these days, but if anyone embodies some good labrador retriever energy, it’s the two cousins who catch your eye and come skating over. 

Your heart begins to thunder in your rib cage, and suddenly, the winter jacket you’re wearing feels much too hot and heavy- or maybe that’s just you.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Nari beams, looking Mark up and down. “Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon.”

The hockey player gives your best friend a look, “I mean, I did tell you I’d be here every day, didn’t I?” 

You can see Nari begin to flounder next to you. “She mentioned Jeno would be in town, so I insisted we come today,” you say smoothly, catching the younger Lee’s eye. “I guess I was wondering how your lacrosse scholarship was going.”

“Yeah?” Jeno grins. “I can tell you all about it.” He holds his arm out to you, and with one final smile to Nari, you accept his offer, wobbling a little as you join Jeno and begin to skate around the rink. “Where should I start?”

“Wherever you want, I don’t know much about lacrosse.”

“Well…” Jeno takes a deep breath, and then he launches into a rundown of his team's wins and losses, giving all sorts of details and using lingo that you can hardly keep track of. It’s the most you can do to watch your footing and not slip while latched onto his large bicep.

In the periphery, you can hear Nari and Mark chatting behind you. You’re happy she’s finally getting some time with her crush, even if it means you have to take one for the team and entertain Jeno… although, he’s doing a pretty good job entertaining himself.

“Anyways,” Jeno sighs, “enough about me, how has your first term been treating you?”

“It’s been great!” you smile. “I love my classes, my teachers are very good at what they do-”

“How about your personal life? New friends, boyfriends-” Jeno trails off.

You find yourself giggling. “Wow, Jeno, that was smooth.”

His ears turn pink, and he adjusts your hand on his arm, pulling you closer. “I’ll take that as a no?”

“You should take it as a… it’s complicated.”

“Most things are,” Jeno nods. “But they don’t have to be.”

“They don’t?”

“Sometimes it can be as simple as I think you’re hot, you think I’m hot, lets see what happens.” 

“Is that what you want?” you ask. “To see what happens between us?”

“I’m definitely curious about it… and I feel like you are too.”

You open your mouth to say something, and that’s when you catch sight of Jaehyun. He’s leaning by the opening to the rink, arms crossed over his chest. The white cardigan he has on was a Christmas present from his mother last year, and his jeans are black. He looks extremely striking, as always, and he’s staring right at you, a smirk on his lips.

“I uh…” you swallow thickly, considering letting go of Jeno’s arm-

Behind you, Mark’s voice gets louder. “You really think you can skate faster than me?”

“We should race,” Nari insists.

“You’re so on.” 

A moment later, the two are whipping by you and Jeno, giggling like children. The distraction makes Jeno perk up, and you feel his muscles flex under your fingers.

“You should join them,” you suggest, seeing it as your only easy way out of this situation.

“Are you sure? Won’t you fall?”

“I’ll be okay,” you insist. “Seriously, I know you want to.”

“You’re the best,” Jeno grins. And then he does something you never would have expected him to do. He leans down and presses his lips to your cheek.

As suddenly as he’d made his move, he’s darting off, and you’re left shocked in his wake.

You freeze where you are, and then you begin to wobble. Your skates slip on the ice and your arms fly out, trying to help you balance-

But it’s no use, after a few seconds of sliding around, you begin to fall backward-

Strong arms catch you, and you find yourself clutched to Jaehyun’s chest while he looks down at you. “Hey, Angel.”

“Puppy-” you gasp, clinging tightly to his woven cardigan. 

He helps you straighten, only to pull you tighter to his body, leaning forward so his lips brush by your ear when he says, “I wanna kiss you so fucking bad.” 

“Jae-”

“It’s only fair, isn’t it? Jeno just got to kiss your cheek, why can’t I?”

“We can’t do this here-”

“You’re right,” he nods, pulling away from you, “let's go somewhere private.”

Your whole body is alight with tingling energy. You’re drawn to Jaehyun like a moth to a flame, and it takes every ounce of your self-control to pull away from him- although, you latch onto his arm a moment later when you begin to slip again.

“Puppy,” you say in a hushed tone, “we talked about this.”

“We never talked about Jeno flirting with you in front of me,” Jaehyun points out, beginning to lead you toward the wall of the ice rink where you’ll be able to grab the ledge for support. 

“I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s not your fault. He has to learn his place.”

“God, you’re so jealous,” you laugh. Your best friend’s brother doesn’t usually act this way, at his frat, everyone knows you’re his, no one would dare come near you- but here, in your hometown, surrounded by past crushes and would be romancables, it’s open season, and it’s clear that it’s making Jaehyun uncomfortable. 

“I’m protective,” he corrects you. 

You make it to the edge of the rink and you grab onto the side, steadying yourself and turning to look out at the ice. Mark is easy to spot in his red crewneck, making a fast lap with Nari and Jeno quick on his heels. God, you’d really held them all up with your wobbly skating.

“They look like they’re having fun,” Jaehyun notes, following your gaze.

“Yeah, Nari’s always been good on the ice.”

Jaehyun laughs. “That’s what five years of figure skating will do to you.” 

“I wouldn’t be able to stand it, my feet are already hurting from these skates and I just got here.” 

“I could always offer to take you home, we could get some alone time.” Jaehyun moves closer to you, and it takes everything for you to not lean against his shoulder. 

“I’d love to, but-”

“But this is girl’s time,” he finishes your sentence for you. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Jaehyun sighs. “Nari has missed you. I don’t blame her for that.”

A minute later, your best friend stops in front of you with the Lee boys in tow. “Ready for another go around the rink?” she asks.

“I’m just slowing you guys down, maybe I should just… stand here,” you suggest.

“I’ll keep her company,” Jaehyun smiles, and you don’t miss the way his eyes shift to Jeno, who straightens under his gaze. 

“Or we could go grab some apple cider from the food truck,” Jeno pipes up. “Mark and I have been here a while, I’m done with skating if you are.” 

Nari looks at you, then at Mark, then to Jeno- you’re not really sure how to respond yourself.

“Apple cider sounds perfect right now,” Jaehyun says smoothly. “It will be my treat. But hey, Nari, I know you love skating, how about you stick around here with Mark for a while? Looked like you two were enjoying yourselves.”

“Uh… I mean, if that’s okay with you?” Nari reaches out for your hand. “We’ll do a few more laps then we can come join?”

“Whatever you want,” you nod, squeezing her fingers gently. 

“Okay, well,” a grin appears on her face and she sneaks a glance at Mark before looking at you and her brother again, “I guess we’ll meet you in the parking lot.”

As she and the hockey player dart away, you push off from the wall, only to begin wobbling. Two sets of steady hands grab your arms and you find yourself squished between Jeno and Jaehyun.

“Easy there, angel,” Jaehyun breathes.

Jeno tightens his grip on you but doesn’t say anything, and they help you off the ice. 

You can feel the tension in the air, and it only gets thicker as you try to find somewhere to sit to take off your skates amongst the young families all lacing up to get in the rink. It’s Jaehyun who nabs you a seat, insisting you’re the first to get your skates off. But he doesn’t stop there, as you struggle with the tight knots, Jaehyun gets down on a knee, brushing your hands aside.

“Looks like Nari did these up for you, huh?” he muses with a grin on his face.

“Yeah, something about tight laces for ankle safety,” you huff, leaning back and allowing him to do the work.

Jaehyun opens his mouth to respond to you, but Jeno beats him to it. “So you two are pretty close, huh?”

You exchange a look with your best friend’s brother. “Well, I mean- we grew up together,” you point out.

“Right, neighbors, I forgot about that.” Jeno nods to himself. “And you’re at the same uni now?”

“Yup,” Jaehyun says flatly, pulling your first skate off while you let out a sigh of relief. 

“See much of each other?” the lacrosse player asks. 

“In passing,” you lie, and it makes Jaehyun smirk to himself as he continues to your second skate. 

Jeno doesn’t question you further, and as soon as you’re free of the torture devices that had been strapped to your feet, you dart to the skate counter to retrieve your shoes, leaving the two alpha males to their own devices. 

When Jaehyun and Jeno find you again, they’re chatting easier now- some shared love for a sports team. It allows you some reprieve as you all head outside and get in line at the food truck. 

It’s odd to be in a situation like this. Two gorgeous, beefy, tall men on either side of you- this would have been a dream of yours back in high school, but now, it falls oddly flat. 

Mark and Nari join you by the time you make it to the front of the line, and Jaehyun buys a round of apple ciders despite the Lee cousins protesting. “It’s the least I could do for the guys who entertained these two goofballs before I showed up,” Jaehyun insists, nudging his sister playfully.

The conversation quickly returns to sports, and Nari pulls you aside. “So…” she grins. “How was Jeno time?”

“How was Mark time?” you counter. 

“He’s just as cute and sweet as I remember,” Nari practically swoons. “I’m so happy Jaehyun decided to cockblock you and not me- but Jeno likes you, I’m sure of it.”

“Can we drop this whole Jeno thing?” you groan, eyes darting over her shoulder to the group of men who are still talking about football of all topics.

“He’s so hot though! Why are you being like this?” 

“I told you, I don’t want anything long distance.” and also I’m in love with your brother. 

Nari crinkles her nose with distaste. “You’re no fun.”

Your gaze shifts to Jaehyun, and he flashes you a small wink that makes your heart race in your chest. 

This whole thing is getting out of hand.

Six

It’s very hard to focus on your gingerbread house with Jaehyun hovering around the kitchen. He’s come and looked in the fridge about six different times, you’ve watched him down three beers, eat an orange cup, a few pieces of beef jerky, and then grab a bag of chips.

“Did you guys not have dinner or something?” you find yourself asking with a laugh.

“Huh?” Nari looks up from her immaculate creation, then swivels in her chair to eye her brother. “Actually, that’s a good question, why are you eating so much?”

“Are you two fat-shaming me?” Jaehyun questions before plopping more chips in his mouth. 

“Oh my god, Jae, fuck off-” Nari rolls her eyes.

The football player grins. “If you must know, I’m bulking. I’m allowed to bulk, aren’t I? I was at the gym for three hours this morning.”

“That doesn’t sound healthy,” Nari muses.

“Yeah? Well, look at these.” Jaehyun’s in a muscle shirt, and as he lifts his arms to flex, you find yourself beginning to drool. You have to tear your eyes off of him, your skin heating with excitement.

God, you want him so bad-

“Put your guns away, Jesus, neither of us want to see that!” Nari screeches. 

Jaehyun only grins, approaching the two of you at the dinner table. “Nice gingerbread houses.”

“We’re almost done,” Nari smiles, inspecting her perfect little edible art project. 

“What’s next for girl’s night?” Jaehyun asks, leaning over his sister’s chair.

“Christmas movies,” you respond, trying to focus on your own craft despite Jaehyun’s eyes being glued to you.

“Sounds fun.” 

You reach for your martini, and you can feel Jaehyun watching that too.

“How much have you guys had to drink?” Your best friend’s brother questions.

“Who are you? The party police? God, Jae, just leave us alone,” Nari groans.

“Fine, have it your way.” Jaehyun straightens again. “Just pace yourselves okay?”

You wonder, as the night continues, the motives behind Jaehyun’s warning. Nari generally does the opposite of what her brother asks her to do, and true to form, she ends up drinking much more than she’d initially planned.

By the time you settle into the living room to watch a movie, she’s hiccuping, her skin all flushed as she cuddles under a soft blanket. “Stupid Jaehyun,” she groans, “telling me not to drink. Who does he think he is?”

“He’s just watching out for us,” you sigh, scrolling through Netflix to find the movie you’d agreed on.

“Why’s he have to be such a big brother party pooper all the time?” Nari asks. “He’s so lame.”

You can’t help but smile. And you can’t agree with her either, a small sound of semi-affirmation is all you can muster. 

You’re not fifteen minutes into the movie when you hear soft footfalls behind the couch, and you turn to see Jaehyun leaning over you. “Hi,” he grins.

Your eyes dart to Nari, who is passed out in the corner of the couch. Alcohol has always made her sleepy, and you wonder if this was Jaehyun’s plan all along.

“Can I join you?” he asks. 

“As long as you don’t wake her up,” you whisper after a few moments of contention.

Jaehyun comes around the couch and you wiggle over to make room for him in the middle. He sits down carefully, allowing you to adjust the blankets over you both. His arm immediately falls around your shoulders, and you can’t help the sigh that slips out of you.

“Missed you,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Missed you too,” you admit.

His free hand finds your thigh under the blanket and you shift nervously. 

“Puppy-”

“Nari is asleep. We both know what happens when she drinks. She’s out cold, angel.” Jaehyun’s angled towards you now, his lips ghosting past your throat.

“What about your parents?”

“They’re at a Christmas party, they won’t be home till the AM.” He nuzzles your ear and the contact makes you shiver, turning slightly toward him while he parts your thighs. “Can I touch you?”

“You’re already touching me,” you breathe.

“You know what I mean.” His fingers toy with the waistband of your sweatpants. “Tell me to stop.”

You can only release a small sigh of pleasure as he kisses your throat again, abusing your sweet spot while his hand slips under your pants, bypassing your panties too.

“Fuck, angel, you’re already so wet,” he moans in your ear. “Such a dirty girl, letting your best friend’s brother touch you like this while she sleeps next to us.”

You hate that his words turn you on even more. Hate that your entire pussy tingles with interest, his index finger brushing over your clit and making your mind hazy. 

“Have you missed this as much as I have?” he asks.

“It’s been two days puppy, we’ve gone longer-”

“That’s not the point,” Jaehyun insists, slipping one digit into your tight pussy, stroking your aching walls while you struggle to hold your moans at bay. “It’s torture, being this close to you and having to pretend we’re not-” His voice catches, and his breath is hot against your skin.

“Not what?” you whimper.

“Not totally obsessed with each other,” he says finally, adding a second finger to work you open.

“Only one of us is obsessed, puppy.”

“Yeah? Your pussy says otherwise, angel. You’re practically dripping on my hand.” 

“Please-”

“Please what? Close already?” Jaehyun applies pressure to your clit with his palm, pumping his digits into you even harder.

“We can’t-” you swallow thickly. “I can’t-”

“Can’t what? Cum while Nari sleeps next to us? I’m sure you can angel, she never has to know, that’s what you keep saying, right?”

“Puppy,” you open your eyes, reaching up to cup his face. “The bathroom.”

Jaehyun pulls his hand from your pants immediately. “After you.” 

You catch him licking his fingers clean as you stand from the couch, careful not to wake Nari as you tiptoe to the bathroom down the hall, Jaehyun hot on your heels. 

You’re quick to turn the light and fan on, hoping to muffle any noise. The moment the bathroom door is closed and locked behind you, Jaehyun has you pressed against it. His lips are hot against your own and he quickly tugs your pants down to your knees. You try to thread your fingers through his hair only for him to capture your wrists, pinning them above you while his free hand slips between your legs again.

His digits slide into you easily, and your back arches, thighs twitching. “Fuck, puppy-” 

“I’ve missed watching you cum,” Jaehyun groans. “Wanna make you cum like this before I fuck you properly. You can do that for me, right? Cum on my fingers? I think I deserve it after having to watch you and Jeno yesterday.”

The mention of Jeno has your stomach twisting into knots, your orgasm building much too quickly as Jaehyun works you open, his palm firm on your clit.

“Come on, angel,” his grip on your wrist tightens, “I can feel you tensing up, just let go for me.”

You bite into your lower lip as you cum, your core throbbing while Jaehyun works you through it. You’re doing your best to muffle your own sounds but it’s difficult with the amount of pleasure coursing through you.

You can feel Jaehyun watching you intently, can feel his heavy breaths on your skin as his fingers thrust in and out of your gushing pussy.

“So fucking perfect,” he groans. 

“Puppy-” you whimper, desperation overtaking you.

“Yeah?”

“Fuck me? Please?” All your inhibitions have flown out the bathroom window. All you want now is Jaehyun. 

“Thought you’d never ask,” Jaehyun grins. 

He lets go of your wrists and you move to the sink, lifting yourself up and onto it while Jaehyun works on his belt. Your skin tingles, your eyes fixed on the bulge pressing against denim. As soon as he’s pushed his pants down, releasing his aching cock, you’re grabbing at him to pull him close, lining him up with your core-

“Fuck!” Nari’s voice is loud on the other side of the door. “Oh my god, Y/N, open up!”

You freeze for a moment, but when loud banging begins, you jump into overdrive. 

You push Jaehyun away from you, hopping off the sink to pull up your sweatpants- “Get in the shower,” you whisper at him before turning your attention to the door, “One moment!” 

The next thing you do is flush the toilet, then turn on the faucet while Jaehyun clamors into the tub, still fumbling with his pants while you close the curtain. 

“Oh my God-” you hear again, and your heart thunders in your rib cage, realization overtaking you.

You unlock the door quickly, throwing it open just in time for Nari to stumble past you to the toilet. She sinks to her knees, a gagging sound filling the room as the consequences of her drinking are brought up. 

“Nari,” you sigh, immediately moving to grab her hair, pulling it away from her face while she pukes. 

There’s nothing else to be said, nothing else to be done while you take care of your best friend, her brother hiding in the shower with his cock probably still hard and aching. 

As things begin to settle for Nari a short while later, you stroke her back. “Feeling better?”

She nods, letting out a pitiful groan. 

“Do you want to stay in here? Or do you think we can go to the kitchen so I can grab you some water and crackers for your stomach?”

Nari takes a moment to consider it, and then she mumbles, “Kitchen.” 

You help her to her feet, supporting her out of the bathroom. When you reach the kitchen, you take her to the sink just in case anything else comes up, and you hurry to get her some water.

As you hand her the cup, Jaehyun stumbles into the kitchen. “Are you two okay? I heard noises.”

“She just had a little too much to drink,” you explain softly, still rubbing Nari’s back.

“Well, I hate to say it, but I told you to watch your liquor tonight,” Jaehyun grins.

Nari glares at her brother over the rim of her cup. “Fuck off and die.” 

Seven 

The Jeong family Christmas party is always one of the best nights of the year. You arrived early to help prep appetizers, and you’d been in the house not five minutes before Nari forced you into an ugly Christmas sweater - as per her family tradition.

Now, as the house is full of all sorts of people, you feel like an absolute mess with the stupid reindeer on your chest. Although, to be fair, Nari’s is even worse. And Jaehyun’s? Maybe the most hideous of them all- however, his handsome face is more than enough to make up for it.

Jaehyun’s clearly pent-up, and it’s obvious he doesn’t give a shit about your ugly Christmas sweater. He keeps looking at you as if he wants to throw you against the wall and fuck you stupid with the entire party watching, and you’ve done your best to avoid him all night.

It doesn’t help that Jeno and Mark have shown up, the hockey player distracting Nari and leaving you open to the younger Lee, who keeps finding excuses to start a conversation with you. 

“So when do you head back to uni?” Jeno asks, leaning closer as he nurses the beer in his hand.

“On the twenty-sixth.”

“Shit, in two days?”

“Uh huh.”

Jeno cocks his head to the side. “You couldn’t stay longer?” 

“I’m actually moving into my own place on January first, so I’ve gotta get home and pack and prep for classes next term, that sort of thing,” you explain.

“Sucks. It would have been nice to spend some more time with you.”

You notice then that his beer is empty, and instead of responding to his statement, you suggest getting him another round. When you move to the fridge, you find that all the Corona’s are gone, so you excuse yourself to grab more from the cooler out on the back deck, hoping for some reprieve.

It’s a cold night, your breath hanging in the air as you open the cooler, reaching down for the beer you need.

You hear the door open behind you, the noise of the party getting loud only for it to be muffled again when the door is shut once more. “I’ll just be a second,” you call, expecting it to be Jeno who’s followed you outside, however, when you turn, it’s not Jeno’s chest you bump into, it’s Jaehyun’s.

“Hey, angel.”

You let out a sigh, looking up at his handsome face. “Hi, puppy.” His arms wrap around you, and you let out a groan. “What are you doing?”

“It’s cold out here, I’m warming you up,” he insists, dimples on display as he grins. “Also, I found something inside.”

“Yeah? What did you find?”

Jaehyun reaches into his pocket, pulling out something small and green. “Mistletoe.” 

He doesn’t even bother holding it over your head, he simply cups the back of your head with one hand and draws your lips to his own. 

This is the worst place to be kissing Jaehyun. Anyone could open the door from the kitchen and find the two of you making out, but you also can’t say no to him anymore, not when your entire body is yearning for him in a way that you can’t even put into words.

You melt in his embrace, kissing him back. 

His tongue glides against your lower lip, and you open your mouth, accepting him into you while he releases a low groan, tugging you closer to his warm body. 

There’s a shattering sound inside, and a scream, then laughter, and the commotion causes you to pull away from Jaehyun, looking over his shoulder toward the door.

“We should go back inside,” you sigh.

“For Jeno to keep flirting with you?” Jaehyun scoffs. “I’m not a huge fan of that idea.”

“As if you weren’t talking to Irene earlier, don’t think I didn’t notice her arrive an hour ago.”

“There’s a difference between me and Irene, and you and Jeno.”

“Yeah? What’s that?” you laugh.

“I don’t give a fuck about Irene anymore, but with you and Jeno, I’m not so sure.”

Your heart tightens in your chest. “Jae-”

“Puppy,” he corrects you.

“Puppy,” you sigh, “there’s nothing between me and Jeno. I’ve been trying to avoid him all night.”

“Not as hard as you’ve been avoiding me.”

“Yeah, because you look at me like you want to bend me over the next horizontal surface and fuck me stupid!” you laugh.

“Are you a mind reader now, angel?” Jaehyun grins.

“Something like that,” you shake your head at his antics, patting his chest with your free hand. “Seriously, I’m getting cold, we should go inside.”

“Fine,” Jaehyun sighs, releasing you. “You can head in first, I’ll give it a minute before following.”

You can’t help but give him one final kiss, a kiss that lingers before you tear yourself away, brushing past him to enter the warmth of the house again.

Jeno is still standing in the kitchen, and you hold out a Corona as you approach. “Here.”

“Can I ask you something?” Jeno watches you add a few more beers to the fridge. 

“Of course.”

“When you said your love life is complicated… it’s Jae, isn’t it?” 

Your skin tingles as you close the fridge, turning to match Jeno’s gaze. “I uh-” You swallow thickly, looking around to make sure no one is listening before you lean in closer to the lacrosse player. “Was it that obvious?”

“No… and also sort of. There were signs, like, the way he just followed you outside, but I actually asked a friend about you,” Jeno admits.

“A friend?”

“Yeah, I uh, went to lacrosse summer camp with this dude for a few years, turns out he’s a pledge in Jaehyun’s frat. He confirmed things.”

“Which pledge?” 

“Promise he won’t get in trouble?” Jeno laughs.

“Cross my heart.”

“His name is Jaemin. He says you and Jaehyun have been a thing since the start of the year. He said it seemed pretty serious.” Jeno studies your face, and you’re not sure what he’s really looking for from you in regard to a response. “I guess… I guess I’m just wondering why you two aren’t open about it here, or at least, why you aren’t as open about it as you seem to be at the frats.”

“He’s my best friend’s brother,” you say quietly.

“You really think Nari would care about something like this?” Jeno asks.

“She’s very… competitive about my time,” you explain. “And as I said, this is her brother we’re talking about. Their relationship is… complicated”

“Most family dynamics are,” Jeno concedes. “But if you ask me, I don’t think she’d have that big of an issue with it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you sigh, although you’re not sure how well Jeno knows Nari.

“Listen, now that you’ve made it clear you’re into someone else, I’ll leave you alone,” Jeno says finally. “I didn’t mean to step on any toes.”

“You didn't,” you assure him. “How were you supposed to know about Jaehyun? It’s not your fault. No harm, no foul.”

“I mean, I did kiss your cheek, which feels pretty innocent, but looking back now- Jaehyun was totally watching when I did that,” Jeno laughs. 

“Okay, maybe there was a little harm,” you admit, joining him with a giggle, “but seriously, don’t worry about it. I’m the one who has to sort this whole Jae thing out, not you.”

“Good luck with it, really.” Jeno reaches out and gently squeezes your shoulder, offering you one more smile before he turns and disappears into the other room.

Nari finds you a short while later, explaining that the Lee cousins had left. She gives you a complete rundown on Mark while the two of you sip wine and giggle by the fireplace. Other people begin to dissipate as the night goes on, and soon, you find yourself heading to the door. 

Your best friend gives you a tight hug, and then you catch sight of her brother over her shoulder.

“Leaving already?” he asks.

“I’m pretty tired,” you admit.

“You can’t say goodbye without hugging at least two of the hosts, and seeing as our parents are in the kitchen discussing land equity, I guess that leaves you with me,” Jaehyun grins, holding his arms open for you.

“Jesus, Jae, you’re such a dog,” Nari rolls her eyes.

With a laugh, and a shake of your head, you step into Jaehyun’s embrace, hating how your body reacts to him. You’re aware of Nari standing just a few feet away, but you can’t help the way you lean closer to his ear. “Goodnight, puppy.”

Jaehyun’s body tenses slightly, and you pull out of the hug, offering him a small smile.

“Goodnight, y/n.” 

It feels weird to hear him actually call you by your name instead of calling you angel. 

You don’t like it, and the feeling sticks with you while you head next door to your own house.

After a quick hello to your mother, and an acknowledgment that your dad is still at the Jeong Christmas Eve party, you go upstairs, ready to go to bed. Only, as soon as you enter your room, your phone begins to ring, and you pull it from your pocket.

“Hey, puppy,” you laugh. “Miss me already?”

“Look out your window.”

Your gaze lifts, heart already picking up speed. 

Growing up with Jaehyun’s room directly across from your own had led to a few tense moments in your teens. One day, you’d seen him fresh from a shower, towel low on his hips- but other than a few near-naked moments, you’d done your best not to be a peeping tom. It’s interesting to have him directing you to be nosey, and you approach the window with your phone held tight in your hand.

Jaehyun’s standing in his room, and he waves his fingers at you. “I didn’t think we’d be reduced to this,” he admits, “but fuck it, if this is the only way I can have you tonight, then I guess phone sex is my new best friend.”

“Phone sex, huh?” you laugh. 

“You got to cum with me yesterday, but I didn’t, and I’m feeling it, angel.” As if to prove his point, Jaehyun’s free hand slides down his chest to his pants, and he grips his cock through the fabric. “You’re making me crazy.”

“I’m not doing anything, puppy. You’re the one being insatiable. I’m just a good girl in her bedroom while her neighbor watches and touches himself.” 

“I shouldn’t be the only one having fun though,” Jaehyun says, and you can hear his breathing getting heavier already while he palms himself through his pants. “How about you lift that stupid fucking reindeer sweater and show me those tits I love so much?”

“Yeah? Is that really what you want, puppy?” You grab the hem of the ugly sweater, slowly lifting it to reveal a strip of your abdomen. 

“Fuck, why haven’t we been doing this every night since we got here?” Jaehyun groans, stepping closer to his window to get a better look at you.

“We’ve been busy,” you remind him, allowing the fabric to drop down again. “I’m actually pretty tired-”

“If we don’t do this on the phone, I’ll be forced to come over there, explain to your mother that you’re my evasive little tease of a fuck toy, and rail you in your bedroom.”

The thought makes your pussy throb with desire. “We can’t have that, now can we?”

“So be a good girl, angel, and take off your sweater.”

“Take off yours,” you counter.

Jaehyun doesn’t waste a moment, he tears the fabric off his body, muscles rippling under unblemished skin. 

Fuck, you’ve missed him too, but you haven’t allowed yourself to acknowledge just how much you’ve missed him until this very moment. 

You follow suit, taking off the ugly Christmas sweater.

“Bra too,” he says, voice husky as his hand returns to his cock.

Unlike Jaehyun, you haven’t mastered the art of removing your bra with one hand, so you put your phone on speaker and set it on the windowsill. You’re slow with your motions, flashing your best friend’s brother a flirty grin as you reach behind your back. 

“Fuck-” he groans, watching one strap slip off, then the other. As you drop the bra to the floor, Jaehyun pulls down his pants, and your mouth begins to water at the sight of his cock.

You wish you were closer to him, wish you could see the pretty vein that runs along the underside of his dick-

“I want you in my mouth, puppy,” you admit.

“Angel-” Jaehyun moans, wrapping his hand around his girth. 

“Wanna suck you off till you see stars,” you continue, reaching up to grab your breasts, teasing your fingers over your nipples, and letting out a shaky breath.

“I wanna eat you out till your thighs are shaking around my head and you’re squirting all over my tongue.”

You immediately fumble with your pants, pushing them down around your ankles and then your panties too. 

“Tell me how wet you are,” Jaehyun commands as you bring your digits to your clit, swiping through your pussy lips to collect the moisture there.

“I’m drenched, puppy, and I’ve been drenched since that kiss we had by the cooler outside.” 

“You should’a let me fuck you,” he says smugly.

“Puppy-”

“I know, I know.” You hear him swallow thickly. “Rub your clit for me, and don’t be gentle. I’m way too horny to last- had a wet dream about you last night and I can’t get you out of my head.”

“Tell me about the dream?” you urge, applying pressure to the sensitive bud between your thighs.

“We were back in my room at the frat,” he starts. “No one was gonna bug us. No sisters or pledges. Just you and me. I took my time with you, letting you grind on my thigh in your sweatpants till you were begging for me to get you naked and do whatever I wanted to you.”

“And then?”

“Stripped you, got between your thighs, made you scream, made you cry and drool and say please-” You can see his hand picking up speed on his cock, and your pussy throbs as you work your clit. “Finally gave you my cock, folded you like a fucking pretzel, and gave you everything you wanted.”

You slip a digit into your pussy, releasing a frustrated groan. 

“I know that sound, angel. What? Fingers not big enough for you?” Jaehyun laughs.

“Nothing is big enough except your cock,” you whimper, quickly adding a second. 

“True, but you’ll still cum for me, right? I wanna watch you cum.”

You bring your second hand to your clit, and the moment you touch it, electric tingles erupt across your skin.

His dirty talk - as well as the fact that you haven’t fucked him in a few days - has you close to the edge already. 

“I wanna watch you cum too,” you tell him. “Wish you were cumming inside me though, filling me up just right-”

“Fuck, that perfect fucking pussy squeezing me for all I’m worth-”

“Puppy,” you whimper, feeling your emotions building with your orgasm.

“Yeah, angel, I’m there too- gonna be good and cum with me, right? Gonna let me watch you as you fuck yourself with your fingers wishing it was my cock inside you-”

“Jae-”

“Puppy, call me puppy, angel- fuck,” he groans loudly and the sound goes straight to your core, which pulses around your fingertips. 

You can’t hold off any longer, your orgasm hits you like a ton of bricks. A strangled gasp escapes you, your eyes closing, head falling back as white-hot energy surges through you.

Jaehyun releases his own sound of pleasure, panting hard on the other end of the line. Muffled moans and whimpers ensue as you work yourselves through your highs, your body aching for Jaehyun to be there with you instead of in his room next door.

As your orgasm passes, you slowly come to a stop, opening your eyes again to stare at your best friend’s brother. He’s already wiping away his cum with a tissue, and he flashes you a wink. 

In retaliation for the flush that immediately consumes you from such a small act, you take your fingers from your pussy, lifting them to your lips.

“Jesus, angel,” Jaehyun moans, his motions coming to a stop as he watches you. 

“Bet you can’t wait to taste me again, puppy.”

“I can still come over.”

“Not a chance in hell.”

“It was worth a shot, though, huh?” he laughs.

“Goodnight, Jaehyun.”

“You don’t wanna stay on call? Maybe Facetime while you fall asleep or something?”

“I’ve gotta shower-”

“Take your phone with you.”

It’s so hard to say no to him, so you don’t. 

His eager encouragements and filthy mouth help you cum two more times - once in the shower and once in bed - before you finally pass out while on Facetime with the man who owns your heart.

Eight

Nari knows you well. Better than almost anyone, and because of this, gift-giving with her is always easy. She gets you a box set of your favorite perfume before opening the present you’d gotten for her (skincare from her favorite Korean brand). 

As you settle onto her couch afterward, however, you realize just how well she knows you.

“So… what’s going on with you and Jae?”

“Hmm?” You nearly choke on your wine.

“You called him puppy last night.” You stare blankly at her. “As you were leaving. At first, I thought it had to do with me calling him a dog right before that, but… I don’t know, it felt too natural, and he seemed way too happy and smiley afterward.”

“I didn’t uh…” you swallow thickly, “I didn’t realize you’d heard that.”

“I bet you didn’t,” Nari shakes her head knowingly. “The more I thought about it, the more everything seemed to be natural between the two of you. Him helping you with your bags when I picked you up from the airport, him buying us all apple cider at the rink- the way he helped you on the ice. Even the way he hung around while we did our gingerbread houses. There’s something between you two, isn’t there? You guys are too natural together for there not to be something.”

“I mean… he’s your brother-”

“And he’s annoying, and lame, and a loser- but if you can look past all that, well… he’s a good guy at heart. And I’ve always wanted you to end up with a good guy.”

You can’t believe the words coming out of Nari’s mouth.

“There is something,” Nari states after your silence lasts a moment too long. 

“Nari, I wanted to tell you-”

“I get why you didn’t, but seriously, fuck that, tell me everything!” 

You’re shocked that she’s practically wiggling with excitement. As if this isn’t her older brother you’re talking about.

“What do you want to know?” you ask finally.

“When did it start? How did it start? Is he actually good to you? Does he stalk you on snapmaps?”

Her flurry of questions are almost too much to keep track of, and you set your wine glass down to get your bearings. “He’s good to me,” you admit. “Almost too good- and yeah, he still stalks me on snapmaps.”

“That creep!” Nari laughs. “So he’s like obsessed obsessed.” 

“I guess so.” Your skin heats at the admission.

“You know what, I can’t believe I’m saying this but you two are kind of cute together. But, if he breaks your heart, you get me in the divorce and I’ll disown him.”

You giggle at how serious Nari is about this. “Deal.”

As the word leaves your mouth, the back door opens and Jaehyun trudges inside, a bundle of wood in his arms. There’s snow in his pretty dark hair, and his cheeks are pink from the cold. He looks up and flashes you both a smile as he kicks off his boots. “Thought you guys might want to get the fireplace going today so I chopped some provisions.”

All week, you’ve been hiding your affection for this absolute puppy of a man, but you don’t have to do that anymore.

You stand from the couch, smiling warmly at him. “She knows, puppy.”

“She knows?” he repeats, freezing in place. He looks from you to his sister, then back at you again. 

A huge smile appears over his face and he drops the firewood, practically running at you, hopping over the couch and nearly whacking Nari in the process only to wrap his arms around you and pull you into a tight hug. He spins you around the Jeong family living room, burying his face in your hair.

“We don’t have to hide anymore!” he yells in your ear.

“No more hiding,” you agree as he sets you down, only to cup your face and kiss you deeply. Your skin flares at the realization that you’re doing this in front of his sister, but Jaehyun doesn’t seem to have a care in the world.

When he breaks away from you, he turns to Nari, grinning triumphantly. “This is my girlfriend!”

“Wait, you two are like, official official?” Nari asks.

“We are now,” Jaehyun states, but he falters, turning to you. “We are, right?”

“Yes, puppy, I’ll be your girlfriend,” you laugh.

He kisses you again, grinning the whole time, and you can’t help but smile as well. 

“Fuck, you two are really cute,” Nari groans. 

“This is the best Christmas present ever,” Jaehyun announces.

Nari rolls her eyes. “I’m not gifting you my best friend! Jesus, Jaehyun, get a life!” 

“She’s my gift, no takebacks,” your puppy boyfriend insists, staring at you with stars in his eyes.

“You know what, we always did say we wanted to be sisters,” Nari sighs. “I guess we can officially welcome you to the Jeong’s now.”

“We’re not getting married-” you protest.

“Not yet, anyways,” Jaehyun quips, earning an elbow to the ribs. 

“Yeah! Put him in his place!” Nari cheers. 

Jaehyun holds you closer, bringing his lips to your ear. “Does this mean I can take you upstairs and fuck you now?”

“Fucking hell-” Nari squeals, “do neither of you know how to whisper?! I did not need to hear that!”

“Then you should find some headphones, because this one can be kind of loud.” Jaehyun pokes your stomach and you slap his hand away.

“Fine, shit,” Nari rolls her eyes, “look, as your best friend,” her eyes find yours, “I’ll give you half an hour to fuck my brother before I demand you come back downstairs for our usual Christmas festivities, deal?”

Before you can even answer, Jaehyun is throwing you over his shoulder. “Deal!”

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I was feeling in the Christmas spirit, and I thought Jae would be so good for this :)

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview. “Oh, we’re a hundred percent fucking at the Jeong family Christmas party. I’ve been needing you since dinner, angel. You won’t make me wait any longer, will you?”

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, deep throating, oral, pussy eating, multiple orgasms, soft/romantic sex, dirty talk, mutual orgasm, praise, quickie, slight exhibitionism (fucking upstairs at a party),  I petnames. (hers) angel (his) puppy.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3k I teaser wc. 200

🌙 staring. Jaehyun x afab!Reader

bonus

“Ya’ll are like a pair of fucking wild animals,” Nari whispers as she takes her seat between you and Jaehyun at the dining table while her parents prepare to bring food from the kitchen for your meal. “You can’t keep your hands off each other for ten minutes to eat a family dinner together- I thought the honeymoon phase was supposed to last a few months and it’s been over a fucking year.”

No one is more shocked than you are that you find yourself at the Jeong house for a second Christmas in a row while still completely enthralled with the oldest Jeong sibling. As supportive as Nari has been, it’s clear she’s salty about her brother getting much of your attention these days, and you can’t say you blame her for that.

This Christmas, you’re spending a week and a half in your hometown, and Jaehyun’s been trying to monopolize on your time with a fire that rivals even his sister’s. 

“You don’t have to sit between us, you know,” Jaehyun quips.

“I think the fuck I do,” Nari retorts with a snort. “This is a PG dinner with our parents you whore.”

☀️ to read the full fic AND 3k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

👹 or check out what else is on my patreon here

🔮if nothing strikes your fancy, check out my m.list

general taglist

@gotshinct - @subhyuck - @fraechan - @learnthisfeeling

@runahways - @d-abin - @milkteade - @woogyuhae 

@anothershorthuman - @nihxxy - @vantxx95 - @bangshii

@poutypoutybin - @notbeforelong - @creepybakeoven

@ninetechculture - @yungiland - @suhsfam - @binchangf

@chogiwapadada - @librarian-stacks - @meowniee

@learnthisfeeling - @gigilame - @cumtrov3rsy

@mocha000 - @darthlunaa​ - @just-here-to-read-01​ - @shiningnono

@lovelyhan - @grilledbananas - @aaniag

✘ nct taglist

@milkyway-vxm - @nctsawrus - @shiningdery - @freezerandfame

@fairieblog - @fairybr3ad - @peachyjaemin - @chemaistry

@sehunniepot

Thank you to those who interacted with the teaser

@dulyrana - @kgneptun - @newdeobi - @ethelia - @jaehyvcr

@jaessunflower214 - @stolasisyourparent - @untilsunset - @yuskitty

#jaehyun #jaehyun smut #jeong jaehyun #jeong jaehyun smut #jung jaehyun #nct #nct smut #nct 127 #nct 127 smut #jaehyun nct #nct jaehyun #nct jaehyun smut #jaehyun nct smut #jung jaehyun smut #jeong jaehyun x reader

[luveline]

hello miss jade ily! since you’re feeling the marauders right now, may i request something with any of the boys, pre-relationship and too lovestruck to speak? reader has done something innocuous, or she’s literally just standing there, and he can’t not break and smother her?

hello lovely, thank you for your request! ♡ fem, 1k

modern au 

You let yourself in quietly. Remus can tell without raising his eyes from his laptop that it's you. James would shout hello, Sirius would beeline for the downstairs bathroom. You close the door with care and leave your shoes under the stairs; Remus can picture you turning your head to one side gently, listening for signs of life. 

"James?" you ask.

"Just me," Remus says. 

You come around the doorway, beaming at him like he's the one you were looking for the whole time. "Hey, Remus. Don't suppose you know when James is back? He's going to take me to the garage so they don't rip me off." 

"Uh, no, but– but I could go with you?" he suggests. Remus isn't your boyfriend, but he wishes desperately that he was and he thinks that's a boyfriend's duty to perform, right? "I'd be happy to." 

Your phone dings. You pull it out with a smile. "Oh, it's James," you say, "he's still coming, but he's late. That's fine, I didn't have an appointment or anything. I'd love for you to come if you want, though, baby." 

Remus chokes on nothing, clearing his throat and sitting up to not seem so pathetic. "I'll come." Because baby? Baby?!

"Brilliant. How's you writing?" 

"Uh, it's, you know, happening. Slowly." 

Remus is admittedly much more collected regularly, but your sudden arrival, your smiling, and now your pet name, you've thrown him for a loop. He's doubly thrown when you sit down on the sofa beside him, no polite space, thigh to thigh and close enough to smell the oils in your hair. 

"I'm not looking, I promise," you say. 

Writing is a raw process. Knowing someone else's eyes are on it magnifies the flaws, but he realises with certainty that he doesn't care if you see it, flaws and all. "That's fine. I don't mind so long as it's you." 

"Lucky me," you say. 

You take your phone out. Remus doesn't mean to pry but you're right there, and your phone screen brightness is high. The text thread between you and James is open, your thumbs penning a quick response. 

Hey James, are we still meeting at the house? I'm omw. 2:17PM

yeah of course, remus is there so go have a cup of tea ill be there soon 2:30PM

ok 2:31PM

sorry running late !! Promise I'll be there, have remus make you a scone :) 2:40PM

I like him too much to have him act like my serf, you can buy us both big salted pretzels on the way home to say sorry for wasting his time 2:45PM

I'm sure he's just gutted to spend time with you 2:46PM

Nice one, James, Remus thinks incredulously. That's exactly what Remus needs, more evidence that he fancies you. You don't seem to have noticed either way, swinging a leg over your knee and finishing another text to James. 

I hope not, I love spending time with him 2:48PM

Remus turns to his computer screen, elated and guilty at once. He was not supposed to see that, surely. 

"Your word count is really climbing," you say, tucking your phone away. "A hundred and fifty thousand. I can't imagine writing so much… will you have to cut that down?" 

"Yep. Much more chance of being published if I fit their standard count. It'll need at least forty thousand words shaved off." 

You shake your head. "I can't imagine putting in all that work and then having to put in more work to get rid of it." 

"Think of it like refining, instead," he suggests, his fingertip sliding across the laptop's space bar. "I'm making sure nothing is boring." 

"I doubt it's boring if you're the one writing it." You stand to his surprise and stretch, a slice of your waist appearing as you twist away from him, an audible click emitting from your back as you roll your shoulders. "Can I make a cup of tea, please?" 

You've had a hundred cups of tea in this house. 

"You know you don't have to ask," Remus says. 

"But it's always nice to ask first," you say as you leave. 

He suspects you were talking more to yourself than him as you occasionally do, and he pays little mind to your movements in the kitchen. He has a lot of work to do and not nearly enough time to do it, and editing isn't as simple as cutting away. It's not obvious what needs to go. Remus has to have a deep think. 

He gets distracted. When you return he barely notices, busy rewriting a clunky sentence. It's not until your pinky finger brushes his arm that Remus remembers you're here, emphasis on you, and that he's besotted. 

When he looks up, he doesn't suppose he'll ever forget again. 

You're at his side neatening a plate of biscuits and toasted scones, the very tip of your tongue peaking between your lips in concentration. It's a simple thing, some might even find it unattractive, but you're totally focused on the plate of biscuits, your lovely eyebrows tightly pinched. 

You seem upset, for a moment. 

Then you meet his eye and any trace of unhappiness vanishes. You're smiling again, eyes alight with something he can't name. "I got you a couple of biscuits and stuff, hope that wasn't too forward. You never remember to eat when you're writing." 

"Oh, sweetheart," he says unbidden to himself, hands paused at his laptop, "that's not too forward." 

He sets his laptop aside and stands. There's nothing for it, no hold to bar —Remus steps forward to kiss your cheek and squeeze the top of your arm, the kiss swift and the squeeze less so. 

"Don't set up around me," he continues fondly, "we'll go have tea in the kitchen with the window open. You can tell me about your day, please. I should've asked you earlier." 

"Don't worry, there's nothing important to share," you say, and to Remus' delight, you've visibly flustered. 

His hand slides down the length of your arm to your hand, where he holds your fingers in his palm. "If it's about you, it's important. Mm?" 

You stare down at his chest and laugh softly. "Okay." 

It's a credit to his self restraint that he doesn't kiss you then and there. 

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #marauders era #remus x reader #remus x you #marauders #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin blurb #marauders x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #the marauders

[cordeliawhohung]

Whoa whoa whoa, why did you have to make mafiaunderboss!Simon sound so hot 😩😩??

Can we see what it looks like when Price’s wifey brings a friend around, and she’s nothing but heart eyes for him and vice versa? I honestly just love this au

mafiaunderboss!Simon has my whole fucking heart i have so many ideas for him it's not even funny. and you know what's even better than price's wife bringing a friend around??? being that friend she brings around..... (we truly are out here living our best y/n lives)

also, i've created a mafia!141 masterlist here <3 because i don't think i'm getting out of this phase anytime soon.

warnings: mafia!underboss!Simon x shy-ish!fem!reader, reader doesn't know simon's in a mafia lmao, sorta sexual tension, short-ish drabble

When your friend invited you over to a family dinner, you weren't sure if you should go or not. Family events always seemed more like a private and cut off thing, not something a friend should attend, and you were terrified about intruding. But when she insisted that her husband wouldn't mind, and how she would love it if you were able to meet the others, you begrudgingly accepted.

You arrived right on time wearing a cute little outfit that you hoped would keep you cool enough so that you weren't sweating all throughout dinner. Once you were led into the dining room of your friends home, you very quickly realized that this was not the type of family dinner you had expected. At first, you had thought of extended family, some brothers and sisters, maybe nieces and nephews. Instead, you saw your friend's husband, John, at the head of the table, along with three other men, none of whom looked related.

After a few quick introductions, you took your seat in between your friend and a kind, boisterous man with a mohawk who the others called Soap. Once dinner was served, conversation erupted throughout the table, and while you found yourself actively listening, you didn't add a whole lot to the conversation. Instead, you were perfectly content glancing around the table, watching the men around you curse and joke with one another.

However, there was one man who caught your eyes more than anyone else. The others called him Riley, and he was almost too large to fit comfortably in the small, wooden dining chair. You swore you heard his knees knock against the table a few times. The simple black t-shirt he wore perfectly displayed the sleeve of tattoos on his arm, and you found yourself enchanted by the way the sinewy muscles of his forearm flexed as he raised his glass to his lips. It seemed impossible to tear your eyes away from him, until you realized his dark and alluring eyes had caught you. You quickly averted your gaze just in time to miss the smirk that pulled at his lips.

Dessert was served in what you assumed was the entertainment room. There was a dartboard shoved up against the wall and a billiards table towards the side of the room, both of which looked very loved with years worth of holes and scratches. While you and your friend indulged in the mouthwatering tiramisu she had made, the boys started up a game of pool, where they played long enough for John to get either too bored or too fed up with the others. They tried to get your friend to play so that they could continue playing doubles, but she quickly declined.

"What about you?" Kyle spoke up.

It took you a moment to realize that he was speaking to you. All three men had their eyes on you, including Riley. Swallowing, you shook your head as you set your dishware on the side table next to you.

"Oh, I don't really know how to play," you excused.

"That's alright," Soap said as he tapped his pool cue on the floor. "Riley's a good teacher."

Before you knew it you were standing next to the table alongside the others, your own cue in hand. It didn't take long to realize just how better at the game they were than you as they made shot after shot, and when your turn rolled around, you swallowed hard, not exactly excited to make a fool of yourself.

Still, you conjured as much confidence as you could as you leaned over the table, trying to line the stick up with the cue ball. Yet no matter how hard you tried to steady your hands, you couldn't quite get stable enough to make a good shot.

"Here," Riley spoke up as he leaned his stick against the table.

The warmth of him engulfed you as you found your back pressed against his chest. It took everything in you not to boil alive under his touch as he moved your guiding hand into position in order to strike efficiently. His hand engulfed yours as he helped you hold onto the stick, and you attempted to ignore the way his breath fanned across your ear as he spoke.

"Steady, yeah? Strike right here in the center, angle a bit to the left," he guided.

Eventually his hands slid off of yours so you could make the shot, but your brain was too overwhelmed to fully focus. Yet you tried anyway, striking the ball just like he told you and barely pocketing one of the stripes. A quick round of whoops escaped the boys as they congratulated you on your shot, despite the fact you were on the other team. Riley went for a more tame reaction, and he rested his hand on your shoulder and gave it a tight squeeze.

"Nice shot."

Heat rose in your face at his touch, and you tried to swallow the warmth back into your stomach as you tapped your cue against the tip of your shoe. "All thanks to you, Riley."

For a moment, he was silent as he leaned over the table for his turn where thick fingers guided his cue along the table. Pudgy skin and muscles forced his shirt to tighten along his shoulders, and you stood there speechless as he hit his shot. He easily pocketed yet another ball before he straightened back up and turned his attention to you. His dark eyes, the ones that had been sneaking glances at you all night long, gave you a quick once over before he tilted his head slightly.

"It's just Simon to you, sweetheart."

i am fucking feral for this man. also, unrelated but mafia simon has a dick piercing <3

#mafia!ghost #mafia!141 #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader

[2hightocare]

WHAT YOU NEED ✷

Synopsis: Jungkook and you try getting into the Christmas spirit, but you end up getting fucked up against the kitchen counter.

Pairing: Jungkook x f!reader

Genre: established relationship au!

Warnings: smut, size kink, light spanking, squirting, creampie, unprotected sex (don’t b dumb nd wear condom.) fluff, cussing, Jungkook has a dirty mouth. a kms joke, hair pulling and choking

Word count: 2.3k

A/n: let’s not sayyyy.. when i say i was giggling and kicking my feet i am not fucking lying! (Jk had me on a chokehold istg😒) they flagged my shit… um

Is it barely November 1st? Yes.

Are you putting the Christmas tree up already? Fuck yeah.

Jungkook would clown you for your love for Christmas, and honestly, you didn't care because you loved everything about it. The decorations, the new flavored coffee menu’s, the gifts underneath the tree, and the cold. You loved wearing beanies, scarves, and thick hoodies. Something about this holiday takes you back to your childhood—the way you would gather with your siblings and parents in the kitchen, making sugar cookies to put under the tree for Santa.

Were you heartbroken when your parents told you they were Santa? Yes. You felt betrayed after they lied to you for thirteen years of your life. When you shared your story with Jungkook, he burst out laughing, sharing that he found out at age nine after catching his parents in the act, making you want to cry for him.

Now here you both were at 10:40 pm assembling the Christmas tree. Jungkook's mom gifted you both, which is much bigger than yours from last year.

“Oh my fuck—this is too big, baby." Jungkook admires the height of the tree with his hands rested on both sides of his hips. Your excitement rises at how many possible ways you both could decorate it.

"Well, I can tell you hate it,” your boyfriend jokes as his hands wrap around your bare waist from behind. “Your hands are cold,” you flinch. Your hands wrap around his, trying to pass him your warmth.

“And if we decorate it with tiny dicks?” You crack your neck upward to see his reaction. “I mean, go for it, baby."

You swat his chest as he burst into a fit of laughter. “You swear you’re so funny, huh?” You look at him with a serious face, your mouth twitching from trying to hold in the big smile that wants to come out.

Jungkook just shakes his head. “Wanna decorate today with last year's decorations, or we can wait till tomorrow and buy new ones, and instead we can bake Christmas cookies?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you.

Anyone in their right mind would be thinking we’re crazy for already baking Christmas cookies when December is in a whole month. But you both didn’t care.

…

“We should’ve gotten pre-made cookie dough.” Your eyes look around at the marble counter in front of you, filled with all the ingredients your mother-in-law told you to use. “On god.” Jungkook stands beside you. “You know what? Let me call my mom. We need a tutorial, I'm afraid.” You giggle as he pulls out his phone, opening up FaceTime.

The phone rings three times before the camera fills up with your mother-in-law smiling sweetly. "Hi, my babies!” She says first, Your face lights up. “Hi,” you wave a hand to the camera. “Hi mom!”

“You guys look adorable,” she motions to your guys matching pink hello kitty pajamas. “Y/n bought them; I had no choice,” he lied, knowing damn well he wanted to match first. “Sureee.” You rolled your eyes at him.

The call continued as Jungkook's mom gave you guys simple instructions like beating the sugar and butter with a whisk, which Jungkook took over because your hand started to hurt, and gradually adding flour to the mixture, which ended with both of you guys covered in white flour because Jungkook turned the mixer too fast. After wishing your goodbyes, you both slightly shake off the flour, and you put the dough in the refrigerator. Apparently, you have to let it be firm.

“So now we have two hours to wait. I say we fuck.” Jungkook slaps your ass, making you squeal. “You’re horny??” Your hands make their way to his hair, slightly pulling. "Hm, maybe,” he whispers into your mouth, and he gives you a slow, wet kiss. “I’m still sore from earlier." I mumble in between kisses. “Was I too rough?” His rough hands massage your ass. You shrug your shoulders in his embrace.

“Christmas movie, then?” He asks, “I’m so down."

….

“Shit takes like ass,” you say, finishing up the cookie.

Your boyfriend looks around for the long-gone cookie. “I don't know; let’s ask the audience.” He looks around for the invisible camera. “Bitch!” You swat his arm, and he burst out laughing, holding on to his stomach.

“You literally ate that shit up.” His head is thrown back, and the most beautiful laugh roars out of him. “I will kill myself genuinely.” You chuckle while trying another cookie without the frosting you guys tried making from a tutorial on Google.

“The frosting is ass, cause this is a bomb,” you stuff your mouth with the remaining of the cookie humming at the taste. “Am I weird cause I fuck with the frosting?" He dips his pinky nto the bowl where the white frosting is before sucking it off. “Never mind actual shit." His nose scrunches in disgust, and his tongue sticks out, making you giggle.

"No, seriously, why is it so bad?” Jungkook takes a sip of the milk he had served not so long ago. “I have no clue, baby, but the sugar cookie itself slaps." You take your half eaten cookie up to your boyfriend's mouth and say, "Open, ahh." He immediately follows commands and opens before you shove his mouth with the golden cookie. “Mhm,” Jungkook's face scrunches as he bobs his head up and down, savoring the heart-shaped cookie.

“Probably the best cookie I had in a while, not gonna lie,” he states, taking a bite of the gingerman's head.

“Do we have cinnamon?” You make your way to the drawer where you keep all the spices. “ Found it,” you make your way back to the cookie before sprinkling some on your and Jungkook's cookies before taking a huge bite. “Oh my fuck," you moan.

"Oh, my fuck indeed.” Jungkook shoves the remaining cookie into his mouth, moaning at how it melted in his mouth. "Think, I just saw stars.” You say this while he side-eyes you. “Haha no.” He says that before picking you up on the counter, he settles in between your legs.

“Horny still?” You ask again, "Yes, very, I’ll be a gentle promise.” He leaves open-mouth kisses on your neck before slowly sucking.

“No marks.” You moan, your fingers slightly tugging on his hair and making him groan. “Scarf season, princess.” He looks up with a smirk on his face, then continues his actions, sucking and licking your soft spot. You bite your lip, trying to be quiet. Jungkook slowly grinds into your clothed pussy causing you to slip out a throaty moan. “Fuck—“ you throw your head back, your legs caging him closer to where you most need him. “I need you to lose the clothes and fuck me.” Jungkook chuckles at your demanding tone.

“Yeah? Want my cock already?” His hands rub on your thighs. You nod your head, looking down at the imprint of his now-hard cock. You reach for it, but Jungkook slaps your hand away, making you pout. “Patience princess,” Jungkook's hands tug on the band of your pajamas, pulling them down and taking your underwear along with it.

You squeal as your bare ass feels the cold counter top, and your boyfriend laughs before throwing the clothes somewhere on the ground.

Your pussy clenches over nothing, and you go to press your thighs together to relieve some of the tension, only for Jungkook to hold them wide open. He pulls his hard cock out of his pants, giving himself two pumps before slapping it on your wet center. Your gaze fixated on his dick on your pussy, your lips between your teeth moaning slightly when your boyfriend gives it another slap with his dick.

“So wet for me, baby,” he says, giving it another slap. "C'mere," Jungkook's picks you off the counter from your arms, “bend over. ” He orders.

You quickly follow his command, your juices dripping down your legs from how wet you were already. Jungkook spreads open your legs some more before making his way in between them, giving your ass a slap. “Fuck—“ you clench your thighs together as he soothes the red mark he just left. “Fuck, when are you going to let me fuck this ass.” Your boyfriend asks you, giving you another spank, making you squeak.

“Never,” you moan, making him chuckle under his breath. “Worth the try.” He jokes before sinking down into you, both moaning at the feeling. You felt so full. Jungkook is so big, stretching your pussy deliciously. “So big shit," you moan, your cheek pressed against the counter as he fills you up to the hilt. “You can take it, baby,” Jungkook says between gritted teeth. He felt you clenching around him, having him on the verge of coming right there in an instant.

“Always so good for me, baby. Want me to fuck you so good, huh?” He whispers into your ear, and you clench around him, earning you another spank, ripping a loud moan out of you. “Fuck me," you stutter over the pleasure your lower belly is feeling. “That’s what I like to hear, baby,” Jungkook says before pulling his cock out, just leaving the tip in before slamming into you. Your mouth hangs open as he repeats the movements over and over again. “Fuck just like that,” you grip to the edge of the counter, your eyes close immediately, as his rough hands compare to your smooth skin, hold tightly to the sides of your hips, pounding into you from behind.

“This cunt is mine, right?” Jungkook groans, sliding his cock in and out of your walls. You could only reply with a loud moan. But that’s not enough for Jungkook; your boyfriend wraps his hand around your hair, pulling you upward and arching your back in the process. “Use your words, princess.” He orders in your ear, his movements never halting.

"Fuck—your pussy! Only yours,” you spit out whatever words you could make a sentence out of. “Fucking you dumb, huh?” He lets go of your hair and moves his hand around your neck, adorning it like a necklace and applying some pressure. "Mhmm,” you moan, trying to open your eyes but shutting close after Jungkook slams into you again.

The room fills with the wet clapping sounds, groans, and moans that keep spilling out of your guys mouths. Your fingers find your sensitive clit, applying pressure and drawing small circles. "Fuck—I'm gonna come!” Your legs shake beneath Jungkook, and his arm wraps around your waist in case your legs give out on you.

“Yeah baby? Gonna come for me?” He slaps your hand away from your clit replacing it with his. Your back arches against him, and his cock continues hitting your g-spot repeatedly, sending you over the edge.

“Oh fuc—“ Your words are cut short when the pleasure in your belly finally snaps, and Jungkook's fingers furiously move on your pussy, making you scream into your hand. Wetness pools on your feet, dripping down your legs. “Fuck so hot when you squirt,” Jungkook continues fucking you through your orgasm, the overstimulation has you shaking underneath him. “Too much fu-fuck,” you head drops to the counter. You clench, sending Jungkook over the edge.

“Coming,” your boyfriend's head drops to your shoulder, his movements becoming sloppy, springs of cum shooting inside you, moaning at the feeling.

His movements come to a halt, his mind foggy, his cock throbbing when he pulls out, making you whine, feeling empty.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” Jungkook mutters under his breath as he sees his cum dripping out of your hole. Without a second thought, he shoves it back in with his index finger. “Aw shit,” you moan at the sensitivity.

He chuckles, kissing your shoulder blade. “You were so good for me, baby.” He leaves open-mouthed kisses all over your back, breathing heavily. You are trying to catch your breath, and your legs feel like jelly, not being able to move from your current position.

“Mhm,” you hum softly, your eyes closing. "Baby, don’t fall asleep on me,” Jungkook smiles at you, picking you up in bridal style, making you to squeal.

"How the fuck can you be so cute after just getting railed?” Your boyfriend moves your hair out of your face as you try to snuggle into his chest. “You play too much,” you mumble.

Jungkook lays you down on the bed before disappearing into your guys bathroom; a couple minutes later, coming out changed and with a warm rag in hand, “here, baby open,” he coos motioning to your legs. You do as he says. He slowly cleans and wipes your center, making you moan from oversensitivity. “Almost done,” he says before giving a last swipe and throwing the rag somewhere in the room.

“Do you want a pill, baby?” He asks against your cheek, to which you nod. He stands up, walking to your side of the closet and getting you something comfy to wear. “Here. Be right back.” Jungkook leaves the clothes next to you and leaves the room.

As you change into your clothes, Jungkook waltz’s in with an ibuprofen and a glass of water on his other hand. “Here,” he says, waiting for you to poke your head out of his hoodie before handing you the small pill.

You swallow the pill without any complaints before dropping down on the bed. “So tired.” Your eyes close before you even hit the pillow, making him chuckle. “Worn you out, huh?” He teases before dropping beside you, pulling the covers over both of you. You immediately cuddle up to his side, feeding off the warmth he radiates. Your leg is over his torso, and your hand is on his chest.

“I love you, princess.” He whispers into your hair, leaving a small kiss on your forehead. “I love you; now let’s go, mimi’s." You kiss his clothed chest, hoping he can still feel the kiss.

#bts fanfic #bts jungkook #fluff #jjk #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jjk smut #smut #bts smut #established relationship #jjk x reader #bangtan #drabble

[pseudowho]

Debellatio

You ask Nanami Kento to help you and Higuruma Hiromi on a mission, after the events of In Flagrante Delicto (link here); you find yourself at the mercy of both men after they are struck by the aphrodisiac Curse.

An introduction to Greynami from my Post-Shibuya!AU Nanami; see Grey and Post-Shibuya AU!Nanami Headcanons

Warnings: 18+, another sex pollen fic because I'm utterly depraved and godless, threesome, I don't like to ruin surprises

(help me find the Higuruma artist in the banner, for crediting and thanks/permission!)

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Kento. We're friends...right?"

Nanami Kento's one good eye narrowed at you, you, sat so surreptitiously on the arm of the sofa in the coffee shop you had asked to meet him at. Kento briefly considered lowering his newspaper, but decided he'd wait to see what you wanted, first. No longer working for Jujutsu High after the Shibuya incident, he did, however, stay in contact with you, one of his favourite colleagues.

"Friends?" he teased, "I don't have friends." You pouted, slapping his arm lightly, and he  continued, "Alright...what is it you want?"

You scooted next to him on the sofa, emboldened by his invitation; "It's Hiromi," you said, already desperate, almost begging.

Already on first name terms, Kento thought, a light jealousy twisting in his gut, having thought he and you always had potential together. "Higuruma?" he pressed, scarred face neutral. You nodded.

"I released him to the wild," you stated, filling Kento in, "I don't think he was ready, but he was insistent, he's been out on his own for a while now...anyway, he seems to have been alright. Alone."

You did not tell Kento how Hiromi Higuruma had spent every night over the past week in your bed, spurred on initially by an aphrodisiac Curse he had failed to exorcise. You had not told anyone at Jujutsu High, in fact. How would you tell them that you and Hiromi were...what? Colleagues with benefits? On an uncertain path towards boyfriend and girlfriend? Pleasuring each other blind every day and night, lost in each others' minds and bodies? You almost blushed, aware your underwear was damp with the seed he had left inside you just that morning.

Kento raised one thin eyebrow at your pause, imploring you to continue. You took a deep breath.

"There's a mission tomorrow, and they want to send more than one First Grade, they think it's big, apparently. They chose Hiromi, and me. But I've worked with him, and he's...he's..." you trailed off, searching for the words. Kento helped.

"Difficult? Doesn't play well with others?" he offered lightly. You nodded, hands clasped in your lap.

"Can you come with us? Just as a buffer. We won't even need you I don't think, just..." you tailed off again, hoping Kento agreed.

That familiar jealousy burned in Kento's gut again. 'We'. 'Won't even need you'. Kento kicked himself mentally, wondering if he'd left it too late to ask you out to dinner, to make his move, wondering if Higuruma of all people had showed up and pipped him to the post. His jaw clenched as he put down his newspaper, giving you a gentle reassuring smile. Of course he agreed.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Why is he here?" Hiromi pressed you, rolling his gavel between his hands in irritation. Nanami Kento stood a few feet away from you and Hiromi, catching up with Ijichi while the veil was prepared around a derelict shopping centre, held together by ivy and abandoned "SALE!" banners.

"Just for back-up, Hiromi. Anyway, I haven't seen him in ages. You'll be friends in no time, I'm sure of it," you cooed.

Hiromi bristled. He had heard you speak fondly of this...this...sexy pirate, Nanami Kento, and in these early, brittle stages of your relationship together, Hiromi couldn't help but feel threatened by this imposing figure of a man. Allowing himself a moment of fragile masculinity, he shook it off, reminding himself that you weren't a competition.

But that if you were, you'd chosen Hiromi and he had won anyway.

Kento smiled fondly at Ijichi, gripping his hand in a friendly squeeze, before heading over to you and Hiromi, the veil descending below him in an oily drip down an invisible dome. Kento's face remained neutral as he approached, he and Hiromi reading each other, both shrewd, calculating. You swallowed at the palpable tension, before trying to bridge the gap with a reassuring smile to them both. Kento spoke first.

"The electricity's back on, so we're not operating in the dark. We should introduce ourselves. Nanami Kento," he said shortly, offering a brief bow, his gaze piercing into Hiromi even through an eye patch, it seemed.

"Higuruma Hiromi," he offered, "I've been told you're just here as..."

"...insurance," Kento finished coolly, "as you're rather...new to this." Hiromi felt another pang of irritation, smiling tightly at Kento.

Kento turned to you, giving you a smile so warm and sincere that it cracked through his icy demeanour. When you smiled back, Hiromi gritted his teeth, reminding himself again to behave. Eyes now on you, he threaded his fingers through yours, tapping your joined hands against his thigh in an act of affection and possession.

"Come on then, my love. We'll lead the way, shall we?" Hiromi pulled you ahead of Kento as a pair, and Kento glowered silently at your backs as he followed you into the building.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Have you read The Day of the Triffids?" you mused aloud to Hiromi and Kento, running your hand along the network of enormous vines, some as thick as your thigh, clinging along the inner walls of the building. A hazy mist had settled within the confines of the corridors, dewy and tropical in the summer humidity of central Tokyo. Exotic and otherworldly flora popped in bursts of colour from the ceiling and floor as the corridor curved away from you.

Hiromi and Kento both confirmed immediately, competitive, flashing each other furious glances. You were oblivious, examining the tendrils and flowers in glittery-eyed fascination. Hiromi and Kento stewed, both hovering close to you, irritated by the invasion of each others' space.

"We should go deeper into the building," Hiromi stated, confident, tapping his gavel against his adjacent palm, "the main Curse body is probably hiding centrally." Kento cleared his throat, imitating politeness as he disagreed.

"Many of these Curses linger on the edges, like spiders in webs. It would be more thorough to scout inwards from the edges, first."

"Well that sounds pretty inefficient seeing as we know--"

"--well we don't know, you're just assuming--"

"--based on experience, I think--"

"--oh yes, and what experience would that be?" Kento finished, curt, brittle. He turned to you, shoulders clenched in a taut line under the clipped corners of his suit. Hiromi spun to catch your eye, anger burning low at Kento's interference. Both beseeched you, seethingly, to agree with them.

You blushed under their stares, feeling their Cursed energy rising, competing, and gulped, feeling naked and exposed.

"I think," you started slowly, "that both options are as viable as the other," both Kento and Hiromi huffed air out of their noses, lips curled in annoyance, "and so you two should decide between you."

"Either way," you continued, the air thick with tension, "we have to go this way to get to the rest of the building anyway. It will give you two time to make a decision, and maybe learn to get along?" Both men bristled at your gentle chastisement, facing each other, chins out, teeth gritted.

You continued behind Hiromi and Kento along the corridor, watching with mute horror, as conversation escalated into debate, descended into argument, spiralled into insults--

"Well you're apparently so smart," spat Kento at Hiromi, "that I probably should let you decide, even if you find out the hard way, but you're not dragging her into danger too, so--"

"--sorry we can't all muscle our way through our problems, Nanami, she probably should stay with the brains of the group, so--"

"--she's coming with me!" Their voices rang through the corridor in tandem, and you shouted in warning, as they both tripped, distracted, their legs tangling in a flower-covered vine, like trip wire across the floor.

A puff of yellow pollen shot up from the flowers, clouding Kento and Hiromi in a clinging haze. They coughed, sneezing, staggering backwards out of the cloud. Kento cleared his eye with a swift wipe, looking down at himself, surveying the damage.

But, Hiromi spun to face you, barely disguised panic in his eyes; "Shit. Shit. Not again--"

Your jaw dropped, appalled; "Again? Hiromi? Was this-- is this--"

Hiromi groaned, and leaned heavily, shivering against the wall as the pollen seeped through his pores, the yellow fading as it sunk into Hiromi's bloodstream. Kento's back was to you, but dread crept into your belly, low and hot, as you saw his shoulders roll and shudder, his scarred hand clasped over his mouth as his chin dipped towards the floor.

As both Hiromi and Kento turned slowly to look at you, hunger glowing in their eyes, you began to take tentative steps backwards, your speed gradually increasing as you spun, quickly building into a full sprint back down the corridor.

Kento was burning from the inside out; every nerve was on fire with desperate arousal, his cock rapidly hardening in the confines of his slim suit trousers, and he knew in furious desperation that if he didn't pin you down and ram every inch of himself into you, that he would surely perish in these sordid flames, and--

As Kento's legs bent with intent to hunt you down the corridor, he felt slim fingers grip around the front of his throat, Hiromi stepping into his vision, clearly suffering just as he was, but determined and steely, hooded eyes smouldering with threat.

"Not my girl, Nanami," Hiromi spat, squeezing the sides of Kento's thick throat with surprising force. Kento chuckled, full of dark mirth as he gripped Hiromi by the wrist, twisting it away from him; Hiromi held fast, hand shaking with exertion.

"You were the back-up, Higuruma," Kento rumbled, smirking, judgement clouded by wild, throbbing need, "so back off. Daddy's home now." Kento swept Hiromi's legs from under him, elbowing him to the ground, before leaping over his scrabbling form and stalking down the corridor, with surprising grace for such a big man.

Hiromi was on Kento in seconds, spinning him into a resounding thud against the wall, and Kento roared in frustration, as the two continued to scrap along the corridor, concrete cracking under their feet and shoulders as they bodied each other into the walls, trying to gain the upper hand.

You had reached the end of the corridor, the stairs blocked with a bawdry tangle of prickles and vines. You scanned the corridor, spotting a lift to the right, and you ripped fine vines away from its entrance, pressing the lift's button in a frantic panic, hearing the roars and crashes of Kento and Hiromi moving down the corridor towards you.

You had a moment of dread, fearful that the lift was now inoperable, before a tinny little ping announced the lift's arrival. Clambering over vines and into the lift, you saw a puff and crumble of rubble down the corridor as Kento was thrown into a wall, the ceiling partly collapsing above him.

You pressed the button again, again, again, your heart thick in your throat. You saw Hiromi round the corridor, zigzagging across jigsaws of vines, eyes intently on you.

As the doors grinded closed, Kento and Hiromi descended upon them, still scrapping, bloody, fighting with mindless desperation and rage. The lift stayed still, halted by your own paralysis as you caught their eyes through the glass, both begging you to let them in.

You swallowed, your belly hot with anticipation, wanting to help but utterly incapable of accepting the only means by which you could help. You mouthed wordlessly at Hiromi and Kento. You pressed a shaking finger to the lift's 'down' button, and Hiromi swiftly countered by pressing the button outside the lift doors. The lift pinged, juddered, stopped, started, indecisive, torn.

You were at a stalemate. You ran your hands through your hair.

"I can't...I can't help both of you," you cried, turning to look at Nanami, eyes brimming with apology as he rested his forehead against his fist, breathing out in a shaking moan.

"Kento, I...Hiromi and I, we..." Kento thumped his fist against the outside of the lift, the lift trembling at his strength.

"You choose him?" Kento spat, feeling precum leak down his thigh in a constant damp stream. He coughed, arousal burning through his throat, and reached down to squeeze his cock, desperate for relief, moaning softly as he bit into his fist.

"You'll-- you'll help me, though?" Hiromi urged, hopeful and throbbing, palms and forehead pressed flat to the glass of the lift, eyelids heavy and breaths hot and urgent. You swallowed, considering your promise to always help Hiromi, and nodded slowly, swallowing, memories of how desperately he took you the first time sweeping through you, your clit aching and pussy clenching around nothing.

"Open the door. Please, please, open the door," Hiromi whispered in prayer. Kento accepted, sickly, that you had made your decision, still certain he may die without relief. The pollen pulsed through him, toxic and ruinous, and he felt his vision fade into animalistic shades of black, white and red.

"I can-- I-- just let me watch," Kento forced out, begging through clenched teeth. You hesitated, eyes flicking towards Hiromi in question. Hiromi scowled, lips curled in distaste.

"Watch, don't watch-- I don't give a fuck. But I'll have your head if you lay a finger on her."

Kento snarled, lips pulled taut against his teeth-- but nodded his agreement. Your hand lowered, hesitantly retracting from the button as Hiromi calmly pushed the 'open' button from the outside, eyes burning into you with unholy intent.

As the door opened, Hiromi stepped to you, trembling with restraint, fists clenching and unclenching as he urged you backwards, caging you in against the wall with outstretched arms. Not breaking eye contact, he reached down to grab one of your hands, pressing it hard against his straining erection with a low groan, eyes closed against the enormity of the tiny relief and the promise of more to come.

Keeping your hand pressed against him, rutting into your open palm, Hiromi dipped his mouth to your neck, taking your skin between his lips in a deep, bruising lovebite.

"You know how this works," he intoned, low and slow, licking your neck as he rubbed your hand on the outline of his rigid cock, "and I know you can take it." You hesitated as Kento moved slowly into the lift space, the doors closing behind him. His eye shot daggers through you, the burned side of his face twisted in agony, until his gaze flicked downwards, staring hungrily at where Hiromi rutted his cock into your open hand. Kento's tongue darted out to lick his lips, his hand sinking slowly to undo his own belt.

As Hiromi continued to devour your neck, moaning with abandon as he pressed closer to you, humping his weeping clothed cock against your body, you felt your own inhibition fade curiously away. Your trepidation was slowly being overtaken, being seeded and overgrown by a burning hunger. You took a gasping breath, high off your own desire, head swimming--

"Hiromi-- the pollen, it's-- it's on your clothes," you urged, your brain clouding, thrumming, succumbing as yellow mist soaked into your skin.

Kento watched with erotic fascination as you became pliable, supple as water under Hiromi's mouth, your eyes half-closed with aching arousal, a desperate keening noise rising from your throat.

"Oh god yes," groaned Kento, voice gravelly with lust as he released his throbbing erection, pumping his thick cock in his fist, biting the backs of his knuckles on his free hand, "keep going, don't stop-- don't--"

Hiromi drank up Kento's begging, seethingly determined to prove his ownership of you, and grasped your top between his hands, ripping it open like paper, snapping the front of your bra so the cups hung loosely over your pebbled nipples. Hiromi heard Kento release a shuddering whine behind him as he latched his tongue and lips over your nipple, still rutting into your hand, which was joined by the other now as you worked frantically at Hiromi's trousers to release him.

Kento and Hiromi both gasped as Hiromi's cock sprang upwards, and was instantly grasped between your fingers, your first squeeze releasing a thick dribble of precum down Hiromi's length as he shuddered, moaning into your breasts, pressing his fist into the wall as you began to masturbate him. You ached to your very core, reeling with need.

"Please fuck me," you begged Hiromi, voice whispering and pleading in his ear, "cum inside me, as much as you want, I need it, I--"  Hiromi didn't need to be told twice and lifted your legs to straddle his hips, holding you up against the wall as he flipped your skirt up, ripped your tights and sticky wet underwear at the groin, and allowed you to line up his cock between your puffy, glistening folds.

Kento's hand worked harder and harder on his own cock now, stopping to circle his thumb around the sensitive head, spreading his precum, fighting the urge to throw Hiromi aside and thrust into you himself. Biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, he instead focused on where Hiromi's cock lined up with you.

"What the hell are you waiting for?" Kento growled as Hiromi paused, panting into your neck, "get inside her or I will."

With one aggressive thrust, Hiromi's cock rammed into you to the hilt, slamming you back against the wall as you cried out, clawing at him desperately. Your hands clenched the front of his shirt, gripping and ripping, buttons scattering over the floor with faint skitters, so desperate were you to feel Hiromi's skin on yours.

Hiromi fucked you ruthlessly, eyes fixed on where his cock crashed into you, hips snapping back and forth with barely controlled fury. Spurred on by your mewls and whimpers, Hiromi panted, chasing his relief, agonised cries breaking from his mouth with every other thrust.

Kento's eye had drooped closed behind Hiromi, stroking himself now to the sounds of you and Hiromi alone, feeling with agonising certainty that cumming in his own hand would do little to relieve his deadly need, but needing to chase his orgasm regardless. He felt his pleasure building rapidly as he heard you cum, falling apart with trembling cries around Hiromi's cock.

Hiromi didn't last long, his first orgasm hitting him with a wave of relief so violent, his knees almost buckled, relying on you for a moment to hold yourself up against him. Hiromi felt blinded as rope after rope of his seed spurted into you, coating your cervix, soothing your aching belly with warmth. Kento came with a shuddering gasp, streams of thick cum splattering onto the floor and coating his hand, face contorted in pain when he felt little to no relief despite his orgasm plundering through his every muscle.

You and Hiromi clung onto each other, still joined, and Hiromi's cock felt no softer at all, still rigid and held with urgency against your cervix, sucked in by your velvety walls.

"I'm-- I'm sorry I-- I can't stand--" Hiromi stuttered, dropping to his knees with your legs still wrapped around him, still pressed core to core as you wrapped your arms around his neck, straddling him, riding him as he whimpered into your mouth. Lost in your own pleasure, your eyes had drifted shut as you rode Hiromi, slippery with cum, keeping his cock jealously inside you, unwilling to let him pull out by more than an inch.

You felt a strong hand wind into your hair, tipping your head backwards and sideways, and as you gasped, you felt a droplet of salty cum drip onto your tongue. Kento's other hand, sticky with his own seed, ghosted around your lips as he stared down at you, scarred face impassive, but his eye urgently begging, and he dipped a cum-covered thumb into your mouth, stroking across your tongue.

Hiromi flung a hand out sideways, clawing with fury at Kento's thick, corded thigh; "Nanami," he hissed in warning. Kento ignored him, still staring at you, pleading, impeaching--

You nodded slowly, opening your mouth, holding out your tongue. Kento groaned his appreciation, and leant down to dip his tongue against yours as you gripped his thick cock in your hand. Hiromi scowled, thrusting you harder onto him in possessive punishment, satisfied to hear you squeak against Kento's tongue. As Kento pulled away from you and your mouth started to close, he gripped your jaw, stopping you.

"Open," he barked and you acquiesced, jolting and groaning as you felt him spit into your mouth, mixing with the drips of cum his fingers left behind. Humming lowly in satisfaction, Kento stood tall, manoeuvring your head and thrusting his full length down your throat with little warning.

Despite himself, Hiromi was hypnotised as Kento gripped you by the hair, ramming into you; Hiromi kept pace with Kento, matching his timing by slamming your hips down onto his. His eyes fixed on your mouth as you coughed and spluttered, cheeks covered with cum and saliva as you choked down wet gags, Kento barking orders at you as he slammed his cock repeatedly over your tongue and into your throat.

"Harder, Nanami," Hiromi ordered, blinded by lust as he felt your cunt clench around him, fluttering weakly as Hiromi slipped his hand between your legs, finding your clit with practiced ease, rubbing rapid circles, lubricated by the slick of your cum.

You were overwhelmed, floppy and malleable as you embraced being used by Kento and Hiromi, covered in fluids, sticky and sweating, and you shivered weakly as Hiromi dragged you to another orgasm. You felt Hiromi ram you onto him once, twice and three more times until he came with a frantic shout, legs cramping underneath him as he felt his seed shoot through him like electricity, dripping out of you and soaking the patch of trimmed black hair at the base of his cock. Hiromi whined, his balls clenching painfully, watching as Kento finished in your mouth.

Kento pulled you to him, his knuckles deep in your hair as your nose hit his neat honey-coloured pubes, gulping as streams of his hot cum trickled down your throat, Kento growling his relief-- "good girl-- good girl-- swallow now"-- as you drank him down.

Kento let go of your hair and you pulled back, gasping and coughing, his cock still rigid, sat wetly on your cheek as Kento rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck from side to side, still tense. Hiromi was wrecked, burning with need, but crippled and paralysed with a bone-deep exhaustion as he straightened his legs under you, his cock still rigid and throbbing inside you as he came down from his orgasm.

"Not-- not enough--" Kento rumbled, still desperate, devastated by the lack of relief.

"Enough, Nanami," Hiromi gasped, "She needs a--"

"'She' can handle it," you interrupted, nose to nose with Hiromi as he looked into you, glassy-eyed and worried. He nodded slowly. Kento rumbled his approval, pressing you forwards by the back of the neck until Hiromi was laid on his back on the floor, cock still inside you, and you laid down belly first on him.

Without hesitating, Kento mounted you from behind, his mouth ghosting against your ear as he bit it, relishing your squeaks as you pressed your cheek into Hiromi's chest. Lining up his cock with where Hiromi was already seated deep inside you, Kento pressed his cock into you.

You saw stars as your pussy was stretched more than it ever had been, clawing wildly at Hiromi's chest as Kento bottomed-out; Hiromi shivered with delight at the impossible tightness and slickness of you, his groans cracking as Kento's cock slid against his with every thrust. Higuruma lay unmoving at first, colours popping in his eyes, before digging his fingers into the plushness of your hips, and thrusting into you in tandem with Kento.

You were ruined, completely prone on Hiromi as you felt Hiromi and Kento's lengths bully in and out of you, your thighs shaking with urgency as your clit was shunted against Hiromi's pubic bone every time Kento rammed into you. Hearing Kento's groans, broken and velvety behind you, had you tipping over the edge, your arousal spurting out around Kento and Hiromi, your cries and whimpers echoing weakly around the little chamber.

Kento felt fire burst through his hips, back and belly as he came for a final time, barely able to keep himself from collapsing on top of you as he felt himself weaken, Hiromi's cock twitching against his as Hiromi shuddered, sandy gasps leaving his throat as his seed mixed with Kento's inside you.

Hiromi reached around you, rolling you all sideways so Kento could collapse onto the floor. You lay together, stunned, sticky and panting. The air was thick with the smell of sweat and desire. Kento chuckled, low and shaking, as you nuzzled into Hiromi, planting tender kisses on his jaw.

"Alright," he rumbled, reluctant, "so she's your girl. But I still owe her dinner."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Hiromi and Kento at the end of this:

The reader:

This took me two large glasses of wine to write.

#jjk #kento nanami #jjk nanami #kento nanami x you #jujustu kaisen #nanami fluff #kento nanami x y/n #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento smut #jjk fluff #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami #kento nanami smut #nanami kento #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami x y/n #nanami x you #jjk higuruma #higuruma fluff #higuruma hiromi #highly recommended #higuruma #higuruma smut #higuruma angst #pseudowho #Pseudowho is utterly depraved

[holybibly]

BOTH | Yungi x reader

Genre: +18, MDNI, smut, fuck buddies, University!AU

Pairing: Ynho x reader, Mingi x reder

Word Count: 4.2 k

Summary: You've liked Yunho for a long time and don't mind having fun with him alone, but what if Mingi joins in? Well, you should play with both.

WARNING: light MxM, unprotected sex, fingering, choking, degrading, pet names, spit kink, size kink, face fucking, hair pulling, threesomes, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, squirting, oral, cum eating, overstimulation and more.

Holy Bunnies Tag list: @tiny-apocalypse @captain-joongz @alicedawitchbish @woohwababes @wlv-asteria @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisprincesss @lavishloving @teagietots @spooo00oky @sousydive @hwapou @bunnliix @softwsan @mjyungi @fantasy2wonderland @noirsfantasy @cassies-cookies @renaholicss @luffypants @hyukssunflower @watermelon2319 @peachygiku @bunnyxoxodarling @stolasisyourparent @soranosnowbunny @certifiedmoa @sanglix @slvtiny @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hecateslittlewitchling @xxawl @pastellbunno @starlletsblog @seonghwasstar @hwanring @vtyb23 @pearltinyy @minjaeum @chasevixx @bomi-ja @onedumbho3 @sanglix @cursedeastern @itza-meee @pinkies-things @atinism

A/N: My precious bunnies are having a special day. I'm here to treat you to something sweet and savoury. It's not much because I didn't have a lot of time today, but it's my hope that it's to your liking. And I know it's been your wish to have me do Yungi. Lots of love, my bunnies.

dividers @cafekitsune

As you ran your hand over his head, Yunho's blond hair felt so soft and silky under your fingers. Your tongue curled around his in a seductive way as his hands tightened on your hips, pulling up the already short dress that you were wearing. The kiss was heavenly—sweet but passionate—and you felt a little dizzy, or was it the amount of alcohol you'd had? As you sat on the table with your legs wrapped around his slender waist, pulling him closer to his neck, your kiss grew more intense and sloppy with each passing second. 

You hadn't expected the night to end like this. But you hadn't come here to argue. After a long dance that felt more like a dry hump, in the middle of a drunken house party you'd both been invited to by your mutual acquaintances, you'd snuck into an empty bedroom for a hot kissing session that promised to escalate into equally hot, and you really hoped so, rough sex. Hell, you really wanted Yunho to blow your brains out; you could already feel how big and thick his cock was through his jeans, and you hoped that the boy would know how to make good use of it. 

You'd liked Yunho for a long time—sweet as candy, but with that spicy sugar daddy flavour—definitely your type, so the possibility of being alone with him tonight seemed like a dream come true. The scenario was perfect; you'd spent the evening teasing each other, and when his gorgeous, wiry hands went under your dress as you danced, you knew exactly where it was going. 

You couldn't tell who had given up first or how you had ended up in this bedroom, but that was of little interest to you at the moment. Especially when Yunho's big hand began to massage your breasts through your dress, you couldn't wait to feel those long fingers inside your pussy. 

Just as you were about to undo the waistband of his jeans, you heard the bedroom door open. As you glanced in that direction, you rolled your eyes in irritation and pulled yourself away from Yunho's soft, flushed lips. With his arms crossed over his broad, muscular chest and the tip of his tongue poking the corner of his plump, sensual lips, Mingi leaned against the doorjamb with a cheeky grin.

"Don't mind me. Keep having fun, baby." His voice was deep and husky, sexy as hell, and your pussy clenched involuntarily at the sound. Shit. Mingi, locking the door behind him, walked over to the bed and collapsed on it, resting his hands on the mattress behind him and spreading his legs apart, a mischievous grin playing on his handsome face as he watched you and Yunho, who, by the way, was completely ignoring Mingi's presence, now planting hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses on your neck. 

Song Mingi was a narcissistic bastard who knew he was incredibly attractive and sexy. You wanted to slap him to wipe that smug look off his face. Or, more likely, ride his big, thick cock to make him whimper and gasp. And you knew from experience that that was exactly what he was going to be like—hot and completely lost in pleasure. 

"Mingi, not right now." You told him, screaming as Yunho's fingers rubbed your pussy through your lace panties; you were already incredibly wet from the blond man's confident caresses, and Mingi's presence only made you even more wet. 

"Oh, the doll is getting feisty, isn't she? Wasn't that the way you were talking to me when my tongue was licking your pretty, tight cunt, or do you need a reminder of what you did last Saturday?" He licked his plump lower lip and reminded you with a cheeky grin. All in all, you weren't in need of a reminder; the way you were rolling on top of his face would be hard to erase from your memory. 

That seemed to have finally gotten Yunho's attention, causing him to pull away from your neck, and oh, God, you were in a panic; you wanted that cock, and you weren't about to give it up because Mingi couldn't control his damn mouth. 

"I had no idea you and Mingi were... together." 

You muttered to yourself and rolled your eyes, getting annoyed. Fuck Song Mingi and his big mouth, and fuck you for even deciding to sleep with him last weekend. In your defence, you were very horny, and he looked like a wet dream in that sheer mesh top. And need you tell how juicy and delicious his thick thighs looked in those leather trousers that clung to him like a second skin?

Girl, there was no way you could resist that, even if you were a nun. 

Fully prepared for him to turn and walk away, leaving you horny and unsatisfied, you looked longingly into Yunho's handsome face. But when you noticed that there wasn't an ounce of jealousy or annoyance in his features, you were genuinely surprised. His chocolate-honey eyes darted from you to Mingi, his eyebrows slightly raised in a silent question he didn't dare ask out loud. But the way his cock twitched against your thigh or the way his pupils dilated told you that Yunho knew exactly what he wanted. Oops, it turns out that Jeong Yunho wasn't as sweet and vanilla as you thought he was. And Mingi, well, Mingi was clearly the type with some damn spicy tastes. 

"Since both don't care..." Mingi just shrugged his shoulders and got up from the bed to come over to you and Yunho. 

And if you weren't reliving your most forbidden and wet dream right now, you wouldn't know what else to call it, because something about the way Mingi's long, ringed fingers grabbed Yunho's chin and pulled him in for a kiss clearly did something to you. Mingi's pierced tongue slipped between Yunho's slightly pink lips, and you were drooling, a new batch of viscous fluid pouring out of your pussy from the lewd show in front of you. The blond man's hands were on your body for a second, but it was only a moment before he responded to the rough kiss. 

You knew how it felt. To see two fucking hot guys literally fucking each other in the mouth, and you were about to come just looking at that. 

Mingi was the one who wanted to stop kissing Yunho; instead, he grabbed your hair and pulled you towards him for a hungry and aggressive kiss. It tasted like a mixture of champagne and raspberries to you, which was extremely sophisticated for Mingi's cocky appearance, but Song Mingi loved to surprise, and he was just as good at it as he was at fucking. 

Without hesitation, you responded to the kiss and immediately let his long tongue enter your mouth and lick you from the inside out. Mingi's fingers tugged hard at your hair as he tried to drink your very soul through the bloody kiss, and Yunho's now impatient hands pulled your dress off your chest, the cold air of the room making your nipples instantly tense. You moaned into Mingi's lips as the blond man's fingers circled your nipple, tugging lightly. Watching the pink, swollen bud roll between Yunho's long fingers, growing harder and redder under his care, the brunet's eyes dropped. 

His mouth filled with saliva and his cock twitched in anticipation; he could already feel pre-cum dripping from his swollen head. 

"I must fuck you, or I'll lose my mind." Mingi growled as he pressed his forehead up against yours. You chuckled slightly at how quickly his insolence vanished as the prospect of getting his cock wet loomed. 

"Guess you'll have to do that then, boys." 

"Oh, that's exactly what we'll do, baby." Yunho whispered in your ear as he pressed his fingers to your clit. Oh shit. Was that honeyed voice always going to be so hoarse and dominant? God, there was a hidden threat in Jeong Yunho. "Bed, immediately." He ordered as he scooped you up in his arms and carried you over to the big bed that was neatly made up. You were already starting to imagine the mess that the three of you were going to leave behind. 

Mingi was already sitting comfortably on the edge of the bed, and you pushed him onto his back, riding on his slutty, thin waist, trying to take the initiative, but he just grinned. 

He grinned wickedly at your attempt at dominance, but let you do what you wanted. He pulled your dress off as you left hickeys on his neck. It didn't take long for you to be pulled up against Yunho's big, hot body, and the blond man greedily took your lips in a wicked, aggressive kiss. It looks like you won't be playing with him like a puppy tonight. While Yunho was devouring your mouth, Mingi was crawling off the bed to take off his trousers and his sleeveless top, which, in truth, left very little to the imagination. 

"Oh my God, Yunho, I want to taste you." You said this as you broke the kiss and moved further down the bed, motioning for him to follow you. You pulled off his shirt and ran your hands over his smooth, milky skin, sure that by the end of the night you would have left him with countless hickeys and scratches as he stripped off his jeans and underwear. When he was comfortably settled on the bed, you found yourself between his spread legs and began to kiss his neck, slowly trailing kisses down the heaving ridges of his chest and below, sliding your tongue along the pronounced outline of his firm abs. 

When your head reached his crotch, you looked up innocently through fluffy lashes, knowing exactly what drives men mad, and licked your lips hungrily, running your tongue in deliberate slow motion over the plump flesh, arching your spine as you arched your arse. Beautiful boys deserve nothing but the best service. And while you wanted to be bold and dirty with Mingi, you wanted to be a gentle and submissive princess for Yunho. To be showered with praise and fucked like there was no tomorrow. And that was definitely at the top of your list of things to do in life, at least for today. 

Yunho stroked his big hand over your head as if he were caressing a kitten and pressed the back of your head so that your head sank down onto his hard, massive cock. And God, it was huge, thick, and wiry, with a big, reddened head that was already dripping with pre-cum. It was a real treat for an obedient girl. 

"Come on, baby, don't be shy. Show me what a good girl you can be for me." You obediently hugged at the head of his cock with your lips, savouring the low, husky moan of his as your tongue circled around it and collected the brackish liquid. Your palm could barely encircle its length as you ran it up and down, feeling the heat and throbbing of his cock as you rubbed the thick, protruding vein several times. You smeared the pre-cum and drool that flowed from your open mouth onto his cock. Swirling your tongue around the velvet head to find out what he liked best, you concentrated all your efforts on that. 

Yunho threw his head back, revealing the long, seductive length of his neck, and rolled his eyes in pleasure. 

"Such a good girl; you'll let me fuck you in my mouth, won't you?" You moaned around him, sending pleasurable vibrations down the length of his cock, and relaxed your mouth to allow Yunho to push his hips up and push his thick cock deeper down your throat. As Yunho wrapped both hands around your head to hold you in place, you grabbed his hips and tried to find some stability, waiting for what would happen next. The next movement of his hips pushed the head of his cock against the back of your throat, and he let out a long moan as he felt your soft, wet throat tighten around him. The sound he was making was almost enough to make you come. "That's it." The low growl in his voice gave away the more sadistic part of his personality before he returned to honeyed tenderness as he held your face in place, pressing his balls against your chin. He enjoyed the way your eyes filled with tears and the soft gurgling sounds you made around him. "Take it like a good girl. You'd like me to be proud of you, wouldn't you? Then choke the hell out of it. Make Daddy proud." He moaned again as your hands dug into his meaty thighs. But Yunho was too intoxicated by the feeling of the walls of your throat contracting each time you swallowed around his cock to notice the vicious nail marks you left on his skin. 

All of a sudden, you felt a pair of strong hands grab your hips from behind and dig their fingers into your soft flesh, leaving bruises in their wake. You were so lost in the way Yunho was fucking your mouth that you almost forgot that Mingi was there too. You didn't realise what you'd let yourself in for until Mingi's fingers started to pull your panties down until they were thrown somewhere on the floor. Your wet, pretty cunt was completely exposed to his gaze. As you felt Mingi's hot breath on your naked pussy, you couldn't hold back a loud moan. His fingers parted your soft pink folds before he took a long, slow lick of your pussy, his pierced tongue causing your hole to clench up from the action. A low purr vibrated in Mingi's chest as he tasted you on his tongue, weakly rubbing his thumb over your swollen clit as he plunged the tip of his tongue into your narrow entrance.

"You better squirt in my face, doll, or you won't get my cock." His plump lips touched your pussy with every word he said and for a moment you completely lost control, dulled by the sensation of Mingi licking and tonguing your cunt.

Taking advantage of your distraction, Yunho pressed harder his cock to your throat. You felt dizzy and tried to suppress your gag reflex as the thick, long cock plunged deeper. With each thrust, the outline of his cock began to bulge as he thrust against you. Yunho was definitely a wolf in sheep's clothing, and you thought Mingi had been rough with you the last time. The only thing that kept you motivated now was the gentle smile that flashed across the handsome face of the blond man as he continued to choke you with his cock.

And damn your praise kink, it made you want to give him even more pleasure. You wanted to be his good girl, the only girl who was able to warm up his big, fat cock so well in her mouth. And for his praise, as long as he kept looking at you with that gentle pride in his chocolate honey eyes, you were willing to let him get away with whatever he wanted.

You quickly regained your composure and relaxed your throat enough to let Yunho fuck you the way he wanted. You looked up again, looking for his approval, admiring the way he was breathing hard and hitching, the deep blush spreading across his cheeks and neck. And the way he was concentrating on Mingi, who was literally drinking your pussy as if he was dying of thirst. But apparently that's not enough for him, because you feel Mingi release your hips for a second, only for him to change position - and now your now swollen cunt is hovering over his face. A loud slap on your buttocks makes you whimper and drool all over Yunho's cock as he mercilessly fucks your mouth like his personal cock sleeve.

"Now lower your sweet cunt right on my face and ride like an obedient girl. Do you understand me, dolly?" The cold metal ball barely touched your clit as he spoke, his hot breath blowing around your folds. Mingi mumbled approvingly beneath you as you moaned and pressed your pussy against his face. "And remember baby. First you squirt - then I fuck you." Without warning, two long fingers with massive rings entered you, stretching your warm silky walls. Your pussy sucked them in with need as Mingi's lips encircled your clit, sucking it into his mouth, his tongue immediately beginning to flick across the sensitive flesh. Oh, fuck.

The stimulation makes you almost buckle at the knees and pushes your cunt even harder against his face. Mingi is sucking hard on your clit, pressing down on it with his piercing as he continues to stretch you with his fingers, his other hand guiding your hips to help them roll over his face. 

Hell, he might not mind dying between your legs; your cunt was so perfect—sweet and plump and pink, and God, he loved every moment of it. When his fingers found your golden centre and began to rub relentlessly, you rolled your eyes in pleasure and moaned softly. The vibrations of your voice made Yunho shiver. 

Holding back a wry grin as he watched you gasp for breath, a mixture of saliva and tears dripping down your face, he finally let go of you and pulled you away from his cock. Yunho let you struggle to catch your breath, but you failed to breathe. But you hadn't had a chance to breathe when Mingi's tongue began rubbing against your clit with renewed vigour, causing you to roll forward, face against Yunho's thigh.   "Look at you. You're so damn beautiful for us, aren't you? Pretty girl, you will do as you are told and come all over Mingi's face, won't you?" Yunho strokes your hair lovingly as he watches the brunette suck your pussy like a leech. The room fills with obscene slurps and squelches, punctuated by a mixture of Mingi's deep moans and your weak whimpers, and Yunho wouldn't mind taking his place now and licking you clean, and maybe he'll do it later today. 

Mingi releases your clit from his lips to run his tongue greedily around the edges of your stretched-out hole a couple of times before he pulls his fingers out with an obscene squelch and replaces them with his talented pierced tongue, fucking you fast and hard until your walls are closing in around him. 

"Oh, shit. Fuck, Mingi. Fuck!" You curse as you feel his plump lips curl into a smug and lecherous smile. He swirls his tongue inside your hole, dragging the metal ball on his tongue along your sensitive, trembling walls. He eats you like a fucking animal, growling into your pussy and thrusting harder, his sharp nose rubbing against your clit. 

"Tastes good, doesn't it?" Yunho asks, licking his lips as if he's trying to taste you, and Mingi just moans in response, lapping up your juices as if it were his last meal on earth. You begin to feel the familiar tension building in your belly with every passing second. The sharp tip of Mingi's tongue pierces your walls, and his nose rests against your clit. Your hips start to shake, you start to stiffen, and your pussy clenches to hold the hot, slippery appendage inside. 

"Damn, Mingi, I'll cum." You moan in a hoarse voice, and he slaps your arse so hard it makes you squeal. You can feel him grinning into your cunt before his teeth brush against your clit and he bites into a bundle of nerves in an experimental way. 

You squeal so loudly that it seems the whole house can hear what you're doing, and to be honest, you don't really care. Let the bitches be jealous; the boys are yours. Right now, one of the hottest boys in the world is Song. Mingi is fucking your pussy with his amazing tongue, and the big fat cock of the most beautiful boy in the whole university is rubbing sweetly against your cheek. Mingi is purring softly, like a contented giant cat, as you rub your helpless body against his face. You flex your hips, squeeze his face between your legs, and force his lips into a curl in order to stimulate your hole.

The whole of your body was on fire and in the sky at the same time. Mingi's huge hands gripped the small of your back, and his own breathing became ragged as you rode on his face and shamelessly screamed out his name. Your whole body tensed like a cord; you sobbed heavily, the tears dropping from your face onto Yunho's thigh, to which you were still clinging, your thighs trembling with pleasure. You were nearing orgasm, the hot sensation of release bubbling under your skin like boiling water. As Mingi slammed the palm of his hand down on your plump buttocks once more, causing the soft flesh to tremble and blush, you came. The orgasm was absolutely devastating, with your juices pouring into his hungry mouth and Mingi gobbling them up greedily, but it still wasn't what he was looking for from you.

You had to squirt, and Mingi was not going to stop until you did. He lifted your hips off of his face, only to have two of his fingers dive into the tightness of your cunt. You gasped for breath and tried to pull away from him, squealing and biting at Yunho's thigh. With his other hand, Mingi pressed you against his face, while he continued mercilessly and roughly fingered your over-excited pussy, now flowing like a waterfall.

Mingi pulled away from your clit with a wet bang, then flattened his tongue and used a small metal ball to stimulate your tortured clit. You felt the onset of a second orgasm, and your walls tightened around Mingi's fingers, the heavy, solid rings pressing against your plush flesh. His wet lips and chin opened and closed slowly as he breathed heavily and continued to torment you. 

"Come on, sweetie, squirt on his face so I can finally fuck you. Fucking princess, come for us." Yunho growls as he wraps his fingers around your cheeks and turns your face around so that you're looking at him. "Make your daddy proud." The tone of his voice and the demand itself send you over the edge of euphoria as you shake your whole body and experience an embarrassingly intense orgasm, splashing Mingi's chin and lips with your juices as he swallows them with a satisfied smile. Mingi presses your hips up against his face and helps you through a powerful orgasm, your eyes rolling. 

Your eyes are rolling up, your mouth is opening, and your tongue is flicking out. You're so fucked already, and they haven't even fucked you right, but fuck you want them to, and even if you pass out somewhere along the way, you'll be riding their dicks tonight. 

Mingi rests his nose against your pubic bone for a second and lets out a heavy sigh before he picks you up and climbs out from underneath you. He gives you and Yunho one of his stupid, drunken smiles and licks his lips in satisfaction. Your juices run down his face, neck, and slowly rising chest as he crawls up to your face. But instead of giving you the attention you crave, his lips press against Yunho's in a completely wild and aggressive kiss that can hardly be called a kiss—it's all tongues and teeth. 

When Yunho pulls away from him, he curves his beautiful lips loathingly. 

"You bastard." 

"You're the one who wanted to know what she tastes like. I'm just giving you a taste of heaven." Then he leans down and presses her wet lips to the side of his ear. "The doll can suck your cock as much as you want, but I'm going to be the one who drinks her pussy." 

"I think you should stop measuring dicks and give me a good fuck instead, or should I find someone else to do it with?" You raised your head to look at them. Seeing the shocked look on their pretty faces after your words, a small smile formed on your lips. 

"Looks like the doll is getting a little cocky, huh?" Mingi said to you as he pulled your boddy up to his chest. 

You could feel Yunho's lips pressing against your ear before he whispered to you in his honeyed, sultry voice. 

"Baby, if you misbehave, I'll have to punish you, and I have a feeling you won't be able to walk by the time I'm through with you."

"We'll be done." Mingi corrected him. 

"Well, I guess I should just keep going and see what you can do. Because I'm pretty sure I can handle both of you."

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez x reader #cultofdionysusnet #kpop smut #ateez fanfic #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #ateez ot8 #ateez imagines #seonghwa smut #ateez san #san smut #hongjoong smut #ateez wooyoung #yunho smut

[hier--soir]

a lover's pinch | two

joel miller x f!reader

pairing: professor!joel miller x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni summary: will a complicated realisation drive you and joel apart, or drag you closer together? warnings/tags: au, university professor joel, age gap [20 something years diff], ethically dubious relationship due to inherent power imbalance, some mildly gratuitous Classics chatter, some very gratuitous descriptions of joel's office, trope of being enamoured by your favourite teacher lol [and her fav isn't even joel, sorry guys], angst, a little manhandling, semi-public sex acts with a not-so-stranger, dirty talk, brief impact play, fingering, orgasm denial, oral [m!receiving], face fucking, facial, cum eating, sheeesh i think that's it okay i need a glass of cold water word count: 10.3k i'm not sorry series masterlist | main masterlist a lover's pinch playlist a/n: folks, this series has taken over my entire brain. i'm having the best time writing+outlining it, and i have been so delighted by how many people liked the first part. giving you all the biggest kiss through the screen right now. lmk what you think of part two! this is part two of ALP. you can read the previous part here: one.

Tuesday.

It’s as though a mirage resides in the periphery of your vision.

A wobbling, shimmering thing that offsets the centre of a picture and makes your eyes hurt until you want to close them. The type where you’re squinting and trying to see, trying to make out what’s happening, and people are turning to look at you and pointing and you realise that you aren’t wearing any pants, and it’s a dream, a dream, a nightmare, it’s not fucking real. Illusory. Fantasy.

It's a childish thought that you can’t help but be consumed by. The idea that this is all some cruel, fucked up delusion you’re about to wake up from. That it couldn’t be possible for the charming Texan you’d met four nights prior to be stood only a few metres in front of you, discussing your fucking syllabus. Reality becomes this twisting, writhing thing that is painful and awkward to comprehend, and everything slows to a liquid, dreamlike pace. His voice, his movement, the shifting of other students around you, all drifting by slowly, as if a year has passed in the span of ten seconds.

And yet when you pinch your arm—nails scraping across skin until raw red marks raise in jagged lines—and you don’t wake up, the mirage remains, your stomach rolls.

Joel looks so different here. What had been casual at the bar, a lob of messy hair above a cotton t-shirt, is now professional. Buttoned shirt tucked into pressed brown pants. Beard trimmed, and hair pushed back into soft, tidy waves that roll down to his neck. A set of glasses rest on the bridge of his nose. Square, with black frames that compliment his skin tone, and have your fingers gripping the edge of the desk, wondering why the hell he hadn’t been wearing them on Friday night when he sunk his mouth against your cunt. Dirty little thing.

You can still feel his hands on you, days later. Feel the rough scrape of calloused fingers on your thighs, between your legs. Remember how soft his hair was when you buried your fingers in it and held him against your aching core, whining his name. It had been like this all weekend; holding an image of his tan, handsome face in your mind, trying to emulate the feeling of his hand between your thighs with your own, only to fail over and over again.

And he’s talking. That low, honeyed drawl that tickles across your skin and drips into your ears, warming your insides. It’s a marvellous thing; the way he shifts easily from topic to topic, disarming the room with short, sharp—surprising—jokes sifted in between soft-spoken sentiments about classical academia and the university, and what he hopes you as individuals will gain from a postgraduate in this course, and it feels like it’s been both hours and seconds as you watch him breathlessly, waiting. Waiting for his eyes to skirt to your side of the room, to dance across your face and recognise you, remember you, just as he said he would. 

Joel is talking about The Aeneid when he finally notices you.  

“I want you to be thinking about language,” he’s saying. “And tone. Virgil and Homer’s writing differs in a lotta ways, but it does share that same character of irony. Don’t forget that Virgil wrote during the Golden Age of the Roman Empire – and he’s presenting us with a story about destiny, about fate. Our focus here isn’t so much about love, or reverence, as it is about tragedy – no one in The Aeneid is safe from what their own fate lays out for them. All of these calamities and heartbreaks are necessary for the empire to thrive.”

He pauses. “Take Dido in book four as a prime example. In the openin’ lines of her story, if we’re looking to the West translation; she is suffering from love’s deadly wound, feeding it with her blood and being consumed by its hidden fire. We know from the beginnin’, that her love for Aeneas will be her downfall; that her death is essential for him to leave Carthage. And on that same page, talkin’ about Aeneas, we get, oh how cruelly he has been hounded by the Fates. This is what you need to think about if you’re gonna get to the bottom of Virgil’s bigger plan with these books. Why is he using this language? These words? I want—” 

Joel inhales sharply, dark eyes frozen on your face, which grows steadily warmer beneath his scrutiny. His body doesn’t move, hands hovering in the air mid-gesticulation, lips parted as his next words rest there, caught on his tongue. You swallow thickly. Feel sweat form on your hairline. The silence stretches, dead air giving rise to confused murmurs across the room, and your eyes widen, willing him to look away and continue; to do anything except stand there and keep looking at you like that. But it’s like he’s in a trance. Tan face dimming to a sickly, pallid colour, shoulders shifting as he breaths deeply. Staring.

A few heads turn in your direction, but you can’t bring yourself to look back at them; to snatch yourself away from the feeling of being held in his gaze again. It’s intoxicating—almost euphoric—to have those dark eyes on your skin.

And then it’s over, the moment severed as Joel’s eyes snap away and he clears his throat, offering a pained smile to the rest of the room. And he’s apologising, Lost my train of thought for a moment there, using a playful tone of voice as he says, first day of the semester jitters, y’know?

He ignores you after that.

For the entirety of the two-hour lecture, he makes sure not to spare a single glance in your direction. And it stings, but you suppose you understand. Can see the tension held in his shoulders now; the strain in his voice as he works to talk with that same measured ease he’d had at the beginning.

You take notes carefully, and don’t bother raising your hand when he inspires participation from the other students. But by the end of the class, you can’t bring yourself to walk out – not without saying something, without finding some kind of understanding over what the fuck is happening. You’re practically glued to your seat as students rise, filing out of the theatre hall.

Joel stands by the desk, back hunched as he collects his things, fielding kind comments of thanks and that was great from people as they pass him on their way toward the exit.  Eventually you join the stream, wandering down the stairs on shaky legs until you find yourself at the edge of his desk, fiddling with the strap of your bag and watching his back. His shoulders hunch tighter when you pause there, shadow splaying across the desk. Though his face isn’t visible to you, his hands are almost a blur, scrambling to drag his things into a messy pile so that he can pack up faster. He slaps his laptop closed and you flinch at the sound.

After a few moments, you find the courage to speak.

“That was, uhh, that was really interesting,” you clear your throat awkwardly, watching other students shuffle past in your periphery. His hands move faster, stuffing loose notes into a leather satchel with little disregard for the paper creasing.

You lower your voice to a hoarse, careful whisper. “We need to talk about this.”  

Joel finally looks up, nostrils flaring as he meets your stare. He nods once, looping the bag over his shoulder. “Not here,” he says gruffly, tight eyes darting around the room. “Room’s booked for another lecture in five.”

He tilts his head towards the door, encouraging you to follow him as he paces out towards the hall. You shadow him quickly, clutching your bag and watching the muscles in his back shift beneath his shirt as he walks three paces ahead of you. You fight the urge to place your hand in the dip between his shoulder blades; to feel the heat of his skin, the rolling tension beneath it, and dig your fingernails into him. Joel doesn’t look back to check if you’re following – he knows you are.

He leads you up a flight of stairs and down another hall, makes a left, and then another left, until finally he’s pausing and dragging a key from his pocket, pressing it into the lock of a heavy wooden door and nudging it open. There’s a plaque on the wood that reads J MILLER, PhD. You swallow. And then follow him inside and let the door fall shut behind you.

Joel stalks into the room, feet heavy against the dark carpet. He tosses his satchel to the floor and then stands by the desk, wild eyes trained on where you hover silently by the door. He looks on edge, to say the least. Frazzled fingers race through his hair, mussing the curls until they look reminiscent of the past Friday. Foot tapping against the ground in a quick, jerky rhythm.

And you know that you need to talk, need to clear the air, need to say anything, but you can’t help it when your eyes wander around the room because—

His office is sort of beautiful.

A larger space than you expected it to be, with a north-facing window that allows a natural yellowed morning light to fill the space, and a vast bookshelf stretching across the wall behind a large desk. You can’t make out the titles from where you stand by the door, but texts fill every crack and crevice of the shelfing unit, not organised by any noticeable colour scheme or structure. The space is messy – personal. In fact, everywhere you look seems to expose something private, something intimate.

A jacket hangs from a hook on the back of the door, made of a worn duck brown waxed material that looks soft to the touch. In the corner opposite the desk, a velvet green armchair sits beside a low table that houses a record player and a potted plant. Sleeves of records are tucked beneath the table, stacked upon each other haphazardly, without a hint of dust on them. Clearly touched and rifled through more often than not.

The wide window is cracked just an inch, allowing a warm early-Fall breeze to slip in and rustle the starched curtains. A coffee mug is beside the record player. Two more sit abandoned on the outskirts of his desk. All empty and forgotten about, too busy to be refilled or moved or cleaned. And there are books everywhere; strewn across his desk, forgotten beneath the cushion of his armchair, piled against the wall beneath the window. Worn, well-read books, with frayed covers and broken spines. You almost drool, tempted to ignore him completely and venture towards them; to run your fingers over the covers and find out exactly what kind of writing this enigma of a man spends so much time devouring.

After what feels like an hour of simply looking—but could only have been a minute—Joel breaks the silence.

“Did you know?”

His voice is quiet. Detached. The backs of his thighs perch on the edge of the desk, hands tangled in his lap. Large fingers pluck at each other as he stares at you from across the room, in an almost anxious fiddling movement.

“What?” you ask.

“Did you know who I was?” he clarifies, voice hardening. Those dark eyebrows tighten in the middle of his forehead, features pinching together into a sharp frown. “When you saw me.”

“Joel,” you scoff, taken aback. “How the hell would I know who you were?”

“Your classes were organised,” his voice raises slightly—just a little. “You knew the names of your profess—”

“J Miller,” you interrupt. “Everything says J Miller, that’s it. I didn’t fucking know, Joel.”

His frown softens at that, eyes dropping to the carpet as he nods once, clearly still unsure. You shuffle awkwardly on your feet, shoulders tense. There’s only a metre or so between the pair of you, and yet you can feel it. That static, burning energy, the same as four nights before. Something inside of you that rages and claws at your skin from the inside, begging to get closer to him. You ignore it.

“Why didn’t I meet you when I interviewed for the program?” you ask. You remember the day you came in, six months ago. Sitting with an older man—the Classics department head—and a soft, round woman with light hair. No Joel. You would’ve remembered him. 

His eyes flash, hands tightening in his lap. “I was on vacation,” he grinds out. It’s like it physically pains him to talk to you—to even look at you. One of his hands drops, palm flexing by his side. He’s taking deep breaths, clearly trying to calm the quell of panic that has been swirling inside him for the past two hours. You keep your distance.

After a moment, he speaks again.

“Greece, huh?” It comes out in a low scoff. His eyebrows are raised expectantly, frustration laced through the lines in his face. “Said you were there for a month.”

“Mhm,” you hum. “I was involved in a text translation study based in Athens.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he exhales, digging the palms of his hands over his eyes. “This can’t be happenin’.”

“Joel—”

“Y’need to transfer out of my class,” he interrupts, eyes blazing. “They run it online, you can—”

“What?” you blink. You feel your blood pressure rise, anger spiking as you comprehend what he is suggesting. “Be serious – I am not doing the class online because of this. It’ll jeopardise my entire semester.”

“I don’t care,” he glowers, rising from the desk.

“Jesus, stop acting like this was all my doing,” you snap. “If memory serves, you’re just as to blame as I am—you wanted me just as much as I wanted you.”

“Stop,” he growls. It’s a rough, unforgettable sound that fills your stomach with heat. An oddly familiar thing that raises the hairs on the back of your neck. Silly little slut. The memory licks at your throat, the skin of your chest, leaving a hot heady feeling in its wake. You wonder if he’s noticed the hickey on your neck that hasn’t entirely faded yet. A persistent, lingering reminder of his mouth on your skin. Of the sharp scrape of his teeth.

You take a step forward and Joel’s entire body goes rigid, right hand jutting out in front of him, fingers splayed open.

“Stay over there,” he says quickly, voice a low warning.

You scowl but don’t move, feet planted in the soft carpet. The breeze rushes in through the window and causes a paper on his desk to flap upward, and your eyes drift toward the movement. Gaze shifting over the items on his desk, the mess of papers, the half-full mugs, and then… a picture frame. You squint, unable to make it out from where you are. Take a step forward, and then another, and realise it’s Joel’s shape in the image, standing with a tall woman tucked against his side. It’s too far for you to see clearly, but you can tell his arm is wrapped around her shoulder, holding her against his chest, and you know he’s grinning from the splash of white across his face.

“What’re you—” Joel’s words turn to silence as he tilts his head and realises what you’re looking at. A broad hand darts out, gripping the frame and knocking it face down on his desk.  You flinch, eyes widening in incredulity as you turn to him.

“What?” A sardonic laugh escapes your mouth. “Are you fucking married or something? Jesus, Joel.”

You reach for the frame, fingers skirting across it with every intention of seeing, of understanding, of knowing just what it is that he’s so desperate to hide. But then he’s there, strong fingers looping around your wrist, halting your movement. The speed of it sends you stumbling toward the desk, and Joel’s body follows you forward, chest flush against your back as your lower stomach collides with the dark wood. Caught between a rock and a hard place, quite literally. You stiffen, sorely aware of how close he is. How much of his body is touching yours, and how similar it is to before.

“I’m not married,” he bites, and you can feel his breath against your ear. Hot, harsh exhales that send whisps of your hair fluttering forward. A shiver runs down your spine. His grip is firm around your wrist; not hard enough to hurt, but enough to hold you in place with your hand frozen in the air, fingers still outstretched towards the frame.

“Then who’s in the picture?” you grunt.

“None of your fuckin’ business,” he snaps quickly. You can feel his stubble graze the edge of your jaw, and something fizzes in your stomach. Your resolve softens at the frustration in his voice; the truth that bleeds out through his words. It is none of your business. Your body relaxes a little, arm going limp in his hold, and yet he doesn’t let go. It takes a moment for you to realise why.  

Joel’s hips are pressed tightly into you, trapping you against the desk, and he’s hard. You can practically feel him throb against the small of your back, the full length of his cock only separated from you by two layers of clothing. Saliva pools in your mouth, eyes pinching closed as you remember the feeling of him; the delicious burn of his heavy cock dragging through you. Using your free hand, you twist your arm behind you and slide it down his front. A whispered oh fuck escapes your lips as your fingers drag across the front of his pants, and he grunts in your ear, grasp tightening around your wrist. Painful this time, but only for a second, until he’s tearing his hand off you and placing it on your lower back, pushing you down so that your chest is flush with his desk.

You gasp, lips parting to speak, but no words are coming out and Joel’s hands are on the waistband of your jeans, on the button. He’s undoing it, fingers steadfast in their movement, and then he yanks the material down roughly over your ass.

“Joel,” you whimper urgently as he grips your panties, dragging them to your knees as well. He keeps you bent against the desk, so you twist your neck to stare at him over your shoulder, legs tensing when you see the expression on his face. His eyes are dark, pupils blown behind his glasses as he looks down to where his covered cock grinds against the swell of your ass.

“God dammit,” he exhales, and you clench around nothing, warmth pooling between your thighs. This is so different from at the bar. There the door was locked, place full of people who didn’t know either of you. Here, in his office, anyone could walk in. A member of faculty, a student, anyone. And the thought has you fucking aching for him.

Thick fingers streak between your thighs from behind, spreading your slick folds apart. You gasp as cool air hits your throbbing clit, but the sound cuts into a low moan as his fingers expertly roll over the sizzling nerve endings there. He ousts a low grunt of surprise at how wet you are, hips still grinding against you as his fingers drift to your entrance, rubbing and collecting your slick on his fingers until you’re whimpering into your own palm, pressing your hips back and begging him for more. All at once, one of his palms slaps across your ass while two thick fingers press inside you. The sting has your eyes rolling back. Your teeth sink into the palm of your hand to muffle the noise you make, and he’s curling his fingers inside you, rubbing against your g-spot, and your legs are trembling with the effort of staying standing. Your mind is a blur. You feel almost lightheaded at how suddenly this is all happening – and at how relieved you are to feel his hands on you again.

“S’this what you wanted?” Joel pants, scissoring his fingers inside you, stretching you out. “Knew if you followed me in here, I’d end up fuckin’ this pretty pussy again? Huh?”

“Fuck,” you choke out, eyelids fluttering as he adds a third finger. Heat sizzles beneath the tightening muscles in your stomach, and you can feel yourself clenching around him over and over again, your high already approaching. It’s almost pitiful, the affect he has on you; how easily your body yields to the simplest of touches from his hands.

“Huh?” he prompts for a response. You can feel the cool zipper of his pants cutting across the bare skin of your ass, scratching you as his hips rut forward.

“Please,” you say, voice quiet as you can muster. “I’m so close, Joel, please.”

He grunts, increasing the speed of his fingers. Soft squelching sounds are audible now, slick smearing against your inner thighs, his wrist, and your face goes warm at the sound of it. Your fingers claw at his desk, nails catching on paper as your hand lands against a book and grips it tight. Your abdomen burns, that soft thrumming heat licking at your skin, the muscles of your thighs, scorching in its might as your orgasm builds and builds, hanging dangerously close to the precipice.  

“Gonna come all over my fingers?” Joel asks, voice haggard and breathless. “C’mon, give it t’me.”

You’re nodding before he even finishes speaking, forehead knocking roughly against wood, eyebrows pinching together. So close, so close, so fucking clo—

A light knock sounds against his office door.

Joel freezes. Your eyes widen, hips shifting against his hand as you murmur no, no, no, please Joel. But he ignores you, gripping your hip to keep you still and dragging his fingers from your dripping cunt to press them over your mouth. Your pulse thunders in your ears, heart trashing wildly in your chest as you catch your breath, devasted.

“Joel?” a soft voice calls from the hall. A woman. “You in there?”

“Just on the phone,” he says loudly, voice surprisingly steady. You can taste yourself on his fingers. Feel it smear across your lips. “What d’ya need?”

“I’m headed to the café,” the woman calls. “You want anything?”

Joel responds with a sharp, resounding no.  

There’s a beat of silence where you can almost feel him holding his breath, waiting for her to inevitably open the unlocked door and discover the scene in his office. But the silence stretches on, and then you can hear soft footfalls fade down the corridor, and you know that you’re alone again.

Joel rips his hand from your mouth. Grips your underwear and drags it up over your hips, then your jeans, before he’s stumbling away and dropping into the armchair across the room. His chest heaves with ragged breaths, eyes wide as he gazes at the floor. When you push off the desk and turn to stare at him, a firm tent is visible in his pants. You button your jeans slowly, watching him. He doesn’t look at you.

“Joel—” you start softly.

“Don’t,” he interrupts. “Just… just get out.”

You open your mouth to speak—to argue—but once again, nothing comes out. No words to defend yourself, or what the two of you just did. You stare at him for almost a minute, but Joel’s eyes stay trained on the carpet, fists clenched against his thighs.

You leave his office silently and try not to look back. Make two rights and head down the stairs, outside and across the green to where your car is parked. The whole thing feels so dirty, so debauched, and yet you want so much more from him. Want it so badly that you drive home in silence, mind too busy with thoughts of Joel Joel Joel to remember to turn on the radio. 

And behind it all, is a low, itching thought at the base of your skull, something that makes you smile as you drive – the knowledge that he wants you just as badly as you want him.

Wednesday.

You decide very quickly that you like Rachel.

Maybe it was because you were having a good day. The sun had been shining when you woke up; strong beams that teased their way through the window in your bedroom and rested warm upon the bare skin of your back. By the time you rose, the coffee was already done brewing, and Trin met you in the hall with a large mug of it and a soft hey, man, how’d you sleep? And when you went to get dressed for the day you remembered you did the washing two nights before, and found your favourite pair of jeans—the ones that squeezed your ass just right—were neatly folded in a drawer, waiting for you. Yes; maybe all of that had something to do with it. Or maybe, it because Rachel was just great.  

You like her tenacity, her words; the idolatry with which she discusses her work. And she is charming; an intellectual through and through. The soft roundness of her face and the kind slant to her eyes offset by a razor-sharp wit. And there’s this peculiar quirkiness to her that catches your attention in seconds – a rough snort whenever she laughs, the bright orange shade of the toenails sticking out of her sandals.

Her teaching is direct, no-bullshit, and yet she has this smile. This soft, thin-lipped genuine smile that says, I know something you don’t know, and I can’t wait to share it with you.

During her first lecture, you feel rooted to the spot, unable to draw your eyes away from her for two-hours as she waxes poetic about heroines and tragic love stories, about the importance of myth, of gore.

Listening to her reminds you of what you’d always loved about classics – the filth of it, the horror. It feels like reaching your hands into a puddle of mud, flexing your fingers and letting the dirt and grime slide beneath your nails, coating every inch of your skin. The squeamishness of it, the rot, the tragedy – you love it all, and Rachel does too.

“When we talk about the juxtaposition between heroines across different texts,” she says. “We want to look at the values being portrayed; the meaning behind what’s happening to these women. Let’s appreciate the context here, guys! To understand the rage of Medea, or, say, the sacrifice of Iphigenia, we have to get to the root of their roles in society. Priestess, mistress, virgin, mother – we want to understand the perspectives being shown to us. What drives these women? What fire lives within them, pushing them to make their decisions—or to have their decisions made for them?”

She points to a student and nods, “Go on.”

“Do you think Medea holds much bearing here?” someone to your left asks. A man. “If we’re focusing on heroines, I mean.”

“Do you?” she challenges. A hint of a smile—that smile—drifts across her lips, hands clasped to her stomach as she awaits his response.

“Not particularly,” he says, voice less sure now. “I know you can view any text through most perspectives, but I’d never thought of her so much as a heroine in a feminist text.”  

“I see,” Rachel nods. “Well, the short answer is that I’d encourage you to read it again.” She laughs, a soft tinkering sound. “The long answer is that her character is complex. Let’s not beat around the bush; Medea is a woman scorned. Banished by Creon, forgotten by Jason. As the reader, we are able to comprehend the most brutal pain through her – a woman trapped in a world where men have decided everything for her, and she is furious. Even describes herself as a woman born to sorrow. Now, as the reader, it is your right to believe that she is bad, or an anti-heroine, but you cannot deny that she is made bad by circumstances out of her own control.” She pauses, thick eyebrows jutting upward as she looks around the quiet theatre. “I’d say that’s pretty feminist of Euripides.”

You approach her afterwards, fingers an awkward tangle in front of your chest.

“I just have to say,” you smile bashfully. “That was wonderful. You’re so engaging, I was… god, I don’t even know what to say, but thank you. I’m really looking forward to learning from you this semester.”

Rachel’s eyes light up at your words.

Up close you notice a pair of thick, ceramic earrings dangling from her lobes. They look hand painted; thick brushstrokes of dandelion yellow smeared across crimson red ovals.

“Oh, how lovely,” her eyes assess you quickly, mouth splitting into a crooked, fond smile. “I’m very glad to have you here…?”

You tell your name in a mumbled rush, and she nods once, eyes scanning the list of students on her sheet.

“Oh of course,” she says knowingly. “You emailed yesterday, no? Some trouble with accessing the readings online?”

You stiffen. Blink at her, smile dimming somewhat. “Yeah,” you exhale. “Yes, that’s actually—I was having trouble with the link for another class, and I hoped you might be able to help.”

“I see,” she frowns then. “Well, unfortunately if it’s not for this class I won’t be of much help; my access code only gets me so far in that damn portal. Which professor assigned the reading?”

“It’s, uhh,” you speak slowly, the words stiff as they stumble out of your mouth. “It’s Joel Miller.”

“Oh, Joel?” she smiles. “Well, he’ll be happy to help, I’m sure. He’s usually in his office around this time – do you need me to show you the way?”

Your mouth is dry. Yeah, you think. I’m sure he’ll be over the moon to see me.

“That’s okay,” you reply with a tight smile. “I’ll find it.”

She nods, bids you a warm goodbye, and her eyes have already drifted back to the papers in front of her when you turn to leave the room.

Your bag weighs heavy on your shoulder, straps of canvas material digging into the muscle there as you retrace your footsteps from yesterday. Up the creaking set of stairs, taking a left, and then another left, and your mind is a blur, static wobbling in your veins as you rehearse what you’re going to say, how you’re going to say it.

It’s been less than twenty-four hours since you’d last seen him, and from the second you left, an image of what happened in his office played on a loop in your brain. Like the spool on a VHS has been stuck together, wound into a circle, and the tape repeats over and over again, the same images, sounds, smells, soaking your mind until all else is white noise. And it’s twisted, and wrong, and you’re vaguely aware of that, somewhere in the part of your brain where you stash knowledge that you’d prefer to forget. Because it’s easier to forget the hard part, the ugly part, and far nicer to remember the scrape of his stubble against your skin. The smell of him filling your nostrils as he crowds you against his desk. The scratch on your ass from his zipper. Remember how your name sounds when he moans it, and forget the feeling that comes when he refuses to look at you after the fact.  

And you wonder if this is what the entire semester will be like; spending each day reminiscing on your last interaction with Joel, hoping for another touch, taste, another chance, another something, anything, from him. The weight of it sits heavy on your chest, like a wall of freshly cemented bricks left to solidify in the sun. And beneath that, beneath the clay and sand and limestone, excitement buzzes. Indisputable, persistent, anticipation. A vibrating that hums in your bones and has you shivering from the tips of your toes to the top of your skull as you knock on his office door. 

J MILLER PhD. The words glare at you from the bronze plaque for the second time in two days.

You hear his voice call pleasantly from behind the door. Light, relaxed. You swallow down the lump in your throat and step inside.

The window is wide open today, pale curtains drawn back to allow the bright midday sun to shine through and warm the carpet. Joel’s head tilts upward and within seconds the soft, easy smile on his face dissolves into something unreadable. He’s perched behind his desk, broad frame bent over a mess of papers, pen tucked neatly between coiled fingers. A clear tension simmers in the lines on his forehead; a tangible rigidity that clouds his expression when he sees that it’s you. He clicks the top of his pen once, twice, three times, and says your name in a clipped greeting.

“Hi,” you say, hand raising in a quick wave. “Sorry to barge in like this, I, uhh, I was wondering if you could help me with something.” 

“My office hours are between one and four,” he says tersely, eyes lowering back to his book. “Schedule an appointment over email.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, face warming as embarrassment swells in your chest. All of the excitement—the longing—that had churned inside you since yesterday seems to dissipate, replaced by a looming sense of dread as you register how distant and apathetic he seems. How hard he tries to not even look in your direction. Those words from yesterday ring in your ears. Just get out.

“Seriously?” you mutter, nonetheless, trying to contain the hurt that threatens to spill across your face. “It’ll take five seco—”

“Seriously,” he repeats firmly.

Your jaw clenches, annoyance tightening the already stiff muscles in your shoulders as you march over to his desk, dropping your bag onto the edge of it. The exact same spot from yesterday, where’d pressed you down against the wood and— Joel’s shoulders hunch. The sleeves of his shirt are pushed up to just below his elbows, thin white material stressing around cords of muscle. You gaze at the bare skin for a moment, tongue heavy in your mouth, before looking to what he was doing before you came in. A book in front of him is filled with scribbles and annotations, harsh black marks scrawled beneath thin lines of text. You only get a second to look at it before his hands are snapping it shut, revealing the cover. Robert Fagles’ translation of The Odyssey. The picture frame from yesterday is nowhere to be seen.

“Working on something for a lecture?” you try. If it’s about class, he can’t be mad. If it’s about class, he can’t push you away.

“What do you need?” he asks impatiently, ignoring your words entirely.

A hand lifts to rub the skin above his eyebrow. The tip of his middle finger massages the tan skin there in soft circles, and you watch the movement for a second, transfixed. No ring. I’m not married. His other hand reaches for the mug on his desk, and he takes a long, drawn-out sip of black coffee. Steam billows from the dark liquid, fogging the lenses of his glasses. The sight makes you want to laugh, but you swallow it down, acutely aware that Joel would be less than impressed by the reaction.

“I can’t access one of the readings for next week,” you explain distractedly, dragging the laptop from your bag.

You round his desk in a few short steps and Joel sighs, cringing as you place it down in front of him, opening the screen for him to see. He shifts his chair just slightly to the right, away from you. That persistent feeling of doubt coils in your gut, sharp teeth that twist and nip at your insides, taunting you, telling you that he doesn’t want you. And it’s not why you’re here—not at all—but you can’t bring yourself believe it. Don’t want to believe it. So you bite back – turn your back to his desk and pitch your thighs atop the edge of it, feet dangling an inch off the ground. You jeans are tight, and the fabric cuts into the skin of your hips where they bend.

“Get down,” he warns sharply, dismissing you with a taut shake of his head. “You can ask IT for help with that.”

“I’m asking you,” you persist stubbornly. “You’re my professor, Joel—"

“Yes, I am your professor,” Joel bites in agreement, glowering up at you. You stiffen warily at the heat in his gaze. At the anger you can see stirring in those dark brown orbs, brimming and ready to boil over. “And I don’t think we should be alone together,” he adds. “It’s not… this is bad for us, okay? I can’t… fuck, you can’t just come in here. I don’t want you comin’ in here anymore.”

And the memory plays once more. That thing, that something twisted, something wrong, something familiar, curls in your stomach. Snaps and bares its teeth at your uncertainty, sends it scattering into the distance, and replaces it with want.

“I didn’t even plan to come here,” your voice hardens, hackles rising as the feeling rises within you. “You’re not the first person I asked, alright? I just need some fucking help—”

“Don’t swear at me,” he interrupts through gritted teeth.

A beat of stunned silence hangs between you. A shocked laugh tumbles from your mouth, eyes widening as you take in the grave expression on his face.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you stare at him incredulously. “Joel, you had your fingers inside of me against this desk yesterday. I think swearing is the least of our worries.”

“Jesus,” he spits, pushing his chair further from the desk. His elbows fall against his knees, head resting in his palms as he breaths, not looking at you. “You’re fuckin’ filthy, y’know that? Can you not just behave?”

Don’t swear, you want to tease, but think better of it.

Instead, you nod slowly, drop your hand onto the desk, fingers hovering over his book. “Joel,” you implore, tone pleading. “I don’t… I don’t know how to act around you right now, okay? It’s not easy for me to just pretend nothing has happened between us. To just forget.”

“And you think it’s easy for me?” he gripes. His eyes are focused on your hand; on the way your fingers tense and untense over the bound cover, stroking the frayed paper his own fingers have clearly touched countless times. He doesn’t move a muscle. “To try and act like things are normal, act like I didn’t—” he cuts himself off, lips clamping shut. An anguished look crosses his features.

“We’re both adults,” you frown. “It’s not a crime that we fucked, Joel.”

A harsh laugh falls from his mouth, stern eyes blazing. “Ain’t about that and you know it. It’s against professional ethics,” Joel snaps, tone firm. “Against university policy – if anybody finds out it could put us both in jeopardy.”

You’re silent for a moment, watching him. His glasses have slid down a little, and they rest precariously on the tip of this nose. Dark eyes stare from over the top of black frames, and then his legs are crossing, one tucking tightly over the other, a thick forearm dropping to rest across his lap, and want burns in your throat. You struggle to remember why you came to his office in the first place.

“Nobody is going to find out,” you whisper.

A rasp of your name catches in his throat. Joel looks bemused, face as flat as he rolls his eyes. “Quit fuckin’ playin’ around. You know how serious this is.”

You contain the urge to scowl, lips tight as you say, “Yeah, I know. Just—look, you don’t have to worry. We can cut it off right now – I won’t say a word of it to anyone. Nothing else is going to happen.”

But you can see the way his eyes flicker down your body whenever you move. How his gaze rests heavily at the pinch of your waist, the spread of your thighs against his desk, your bare arms, before darting away. You wonder if he’s touched himself thinking about you, and a jagged heat tears through the top of your thighs as you picture what that would look like.

“But that's not what you want, is it?” you ask softly. Joel doesn’t speak. He’s so still you almost think he didn’t hear you. But his eyes glance to your thighs again, you know that he did.

“You want me,” you say then, voice low and sure.

The muscle in his jaw ticks. Lips purse around clenched teeth and a harsh breath escapes his nose before he’s saying your name again, a strained whisper. And God, you love the way he says it. Like the word was created just to spite him.

“You are walkin’ on some mighty thin ice right now,” he grits out, heated gaze scorching your skin.

You glance down to his lap, where a forearm still balances over his crotch, and arch an eyebrow.

“Show me,” you murmur.

You can hear him breathing. Slow, exaggerated puffs of breath, chest rising and falling at an increasing pace as he maintains eye contact. Large hands tighten into fists, fingers curling against palms, and he’s dragging his arm back from his lap, spreading his legs as far as they’ll go within the arms of his chair. You wet your lips, face heating as you stare. The firm line of his cock is evident beneath his pants, a solid ridge against his left thigh. When you look back to his face there’s a faint red hue colouring the skin of his neck, steadily rising toward the edge of his facial hair. He’s blushing.

“How long?” you ask, voice awed.

“Since you got on the desk,” Joel grumbles, tone almost begrudging.  

You hum softly, a low vibration in your throat, and then you’re slipping off his desk and taking a step towards him. And he doesn’t flinch away. He watches you close the distance between the pair of you and hover between his thighs, your legs almost brushing his.   

“Let me help,” you whisper, lowering onto the ground in front of him. The carpet is warm and rough against your jean-clad knees. Your eyes drift from his face to between his thighs, and then back up, slowly.

“We shouldn’t,” he croaks, lips chapped and dry. You want to kiss him senseless. Want to drag your tongue across his mouth until it’s soaking wet and then push your way inside.

“But do you want me to?”

An agonising beat of silence follows. But there’s no doubt there anymore. No more wondering, or uncertainty, because you can see it in his eyes. The same all-consuming, devastating desire that crawls its way up to rest at the base of your throat whenever you’re with him. 

And then thick fingers are at the waist of his pants, undoing his leather belt, his button, pushing the material open to reveal a pair of black briefs. He doesn’t take his pants off, just adjusts slightly in the chair before pressing his hand beneath the band of his underwear. Joel grips himself, the sight still obscured from your vision, and you find yourself mesmerised nonetheless, unable to drag your eyes away from the dark material. A low grunt escapes him, and then he shifts the band of his underwear down and pulls his cock out.

The head of him is swollen and leaking, tight skin so red that it’s almost a purple hue against the stark white of his shirt. Joel’s fingers tighten around his base, stroking himself once. Impatient, you lick you hand and let it drift forward to replace his, fingers slipping over the silky wet skin of his head and wrapping around him. Your hand is so much smaller in comparison, and your fingertips almost don’t meet as you flex your grip around girth.

Your underwear clings to the skin between your thighs, material warm and damp against you, a result of the simmering heat that rests in the base of your belly and flares every time Joel sighs. When you glance up to see his face, he’s already staring at you, pupils blown wide, lips sealed in a tight line. His length twitches in your palm, and you salivate.

You lean in and place a gentle kiss again his tip, smearing the pearl of precome there against your lips. You stroke the length of him in slow, firm pumps, guiding his head against your puckered lips, but not quite taking it inside yet. Joel’s fists are tight against his thighs, and you wish he would put them in your hair, on the back of your head, grip you, pull you down against him. But he doesn’t, not yet.

He’s got a salty, heady taste, and you swipe your tongue out to clean the hint of it from your mouth, swallowing with a satisfied purr. A harsh exhale shoots from his nose, eyebrows dragging further down as he watches you tease him.

A quick flick of your tongue against his slit has a sharp gasp rising from him, and in response you lathe wet, messy kisses to his head, puckering your lips around it and swirling your tongue, not caring what you look like, not caring that he probably wants you to go faster. It’s purely for your own enjoyment, and you’re moaning and sighing around the taste of him. You want to take Joel Miller a part, piece by piece, and feel him come undone beneath your mouth.

Unable to wait any longer, you let his head slip passed your open lips and sink into the wet heat of your mouth. And he’s so quiet, so composed, so you glide your tongue over his slit again before pressing forward, lips meeting the movement of your own hand as you take him deeper.

Your jaw strains, muscles smarting as you attempt to take the entirety of him. He’s so long, so thick, and the tip of him is nudging against the back of your throat in seconds, making your eyes water. And god it’s better than you could’ve imagined.

Tears cling to your eyelashes as you look up and find Joel with his bottom lip snagged between his teeth, pink skin turning white from pressure. The heavy weight of him crowds your senses, his taste on your tongue and scent in your nostrils, everywhere, and you can feel how hot your face is getting but you can’t look away from him. You don’t stop until his hand is landing on the nape of your neck, collecting your hair in his fist and dragging your mouth off him. You part with a wet gasp, a string of saliva dangling between his tip and your shiny lips.

“Breathe, goddammit,” Joel says, holding you still when you attempt to press forward and take him back into your mouth.

“You’re so big,” you say earnestly, head tilting backward to rest heavy in his hold. You blink through bleary eyes, smiling lazily. Drunk on him after only a little taste. “Couldn’t stop thinking about this, you know. How you’d taste… how it would feel to have you in my mouth.”

“Fuck, stop,” Joel says quickly, voice pained. “Y’can’t say shit like that.” His grip tightens at the base of your neck, and then he’s guiding your face forward so the head of his cock slips back into your mouth, effectively shutting you up.

You hum appreciatively and relax your jaw, taking him until he’s nudging at your throat again, and he’s still so fucking silent. Determined to get some kind of reaction from him, you pull off and lick a broad stripe from tip to base, hand stroking his length in unhurried, firm pulls as your mouth finds his heavy balls. Your tongue glides along the sensitive skin in slow, overwhelming movements, leaving no inch of him untouched. Wet sounds fill the air as the movement of your fist increases in pace, and your lips drag over him, sucking one of his balls into your mouth and then—finally—a long, drawn-out groan spills into the air, and he’s saying, “Shit, that’s it.”

Never pausing the movement of your hand, you pull back just a smidge and grin.

Joel’s hands are on you then, another deep sound sputtering from his lips. He’s brushing your hair off your face, mussing it as he rakes his fingers through it, short nails scraping against your scalp. He swears softly when you take him back into your mouth.

“Fuck,” he mutters breathlessly. “Is that what you want? Needy little thing wants a little praise, huh? Want me to tell you how good you are, how good your pretty mouth feels on my cock?”

You whimper, eyelids fluttering as you begin to move on him desperately. Your mouth tightens around him, and a tear squeezes from your eyes as his hips jolt forward, cock nudging suddenly into the back of your throat. Joel’s hand cups the back of your head, strokes the damp skin at the base of your neck as you gag around him.

“Jesus,” Joel groans at the sound. “There you go, s’perfect, s’fuckin’ perfect.”

The muscles in your thighs tighten, legs pressing together to try and soothe the pulsing ache there. Your head is moving up and down along his length and it’s wet and messy and depraved, saliva gliding down your chin to your neck, and you fucking love it. Joel’s gruff sounds of encouragement only serve to spur you on.

And then, as if by some stroke of divine intervention, it happens again.

A firm rap against the door of his office.

Joel goes silent. Your shoulders tense, and you pull back until his tip rests heavy on your bottom lip. Wide eyed, you gaze up at him, panic swelling in your chest. And then comes that voice; the same voice as yesterday.

“You in there Joel?”

You can feel your lungs squeezing inside your chest, grasping violently for air and finding zero reprieve as the reality of the moment begins to overwhelm you, because you know that voice.

“Fuck,” you whisper dazedly, slumping back to rest on your heels. “Fuck, fuck, fu—”

Joel shakes his head, strong hands gripping your shoulders to soothe you. “Shh,” he hushes quietly. “Stop, hey, stop. It’s fine.”

Another knock at the door. Nowhere for you to go, nowhere to hide.

“Just a sec, Rachel,” Joel calls, voice laced with frustration.

And then those hands are guiding you backwards. You move blindly, allowing him to encourage your body back, back, back, broad palm protecting your head as he nudges you underneath the desk. Further and further until you’re completely hidden, tucked away where only he can see you. And as you settle into the warm, sweaty space, watch Joel drag his chair forward and squeeze his long legs around your body, you feel the panic quell. Your pulse slows, the tremor in your hands settles, and cool relief comes in the form of a chill down your spine.

“Come in,” Joel calls. You can hear the door click open a second later, soft footsteps entering the room. You hold your breath as they begin to talk, heart stuttering, eyes trained on his where his spit-soaked cock rests against the underside of his desk.

“Sorry to be a bother,” Rachel’s soft voice chimes. “I was hoping to grab my copy of The Annals, I need it for the undergrad lecture I’m covering this afternoon.”

“Course,” he says sharply, and you can hear a drawer to your right open and close. A moment of silence. “All yours.”  

Your abdomen tenses at the sound of his haggard voice, and something tight pulls in your chest. A flare of jealousy, of possessiveness, at the fact that someone else is seeing him right now. That the flush on his cheeks, the sweat on his neck, is no longer yours alone. And it’s absurd, because she has no idea. But the desire to reclaim the moment for yourself, to assert that his sweat, his blush—his body—is yours is overwhelming, and you find your hand gripping his heavy cock, tongue gliding out of your mouth to swipe against his weeping tip. The dread from before flares in the back of your mind but you push it away, shove it down until it’s hazy, a faint ringing that fades into the sound of your blood rushing in your ears.

Joel’s thighs stiffen. He coughs, a sharp, surprised noise.

“Thanks for that,” Rachel says, voice slow. “Hey… are you doing okay? Looking pretty faint over there, Miller.”

You smile around him and rub your tongue in teasing strokes along the underside of his sensitive head. He clears his throat roughly, and then his hand is slipping underneath the desk to tangle in your hair. It’s rough and it stings, and you find yourself humming ever so slightly around him, indicating that you love it.

“Feelin’ a little under the weather,” he agrees faintly.

“Should try some of that tea I always tell you about,” she says, ever so friendly. “Works a treat when you’re sick.”

“Maybe I will,” Joel says, and his fingers are twisting in your messy locks, pulling your mouth away from his cock.

Although he can’t see you, you pout. Not wanting to push it, you settle for looping three fingers around him, index middle and thumb, gripping just beneath his head, and begin to rub him in slow, soundless movements. With every forward motion of your hand, the tip of his cock brushes against your lower lip, and his grip on your hair tightens.

“I could bring you some,” Rachel offers then. You can practically hear the smile in her voice, picture the kind slant to her eyes. “Maybe tomorrow, if you think you’ll be coming into wor—”

“I’ll be here tomorrow,” Joel snaps suddenly, voice almost harsh as he interrupts her. “Was that all you needed?”

“Oh,” she replies awkwardly. “Yeah, sorry.”

“No,” he says, audibly flustered. His cock is drooling over your lips, and the salty taste has your pussy aching, clenching painfully tight, begging to be filled. “m’sorry, got a fuckin’ headache, is all. Tea tomorrow?”  

“Tea tomorrow, sure,” Rachel confirms. “Sorry again, I… yeah, sorry, I hope you feel better, Joel.”

Whem the door closes a moment later Joel is shoving his chair backward again, hands wrenching you out from underneath his desk. You fall forward, flushed and breathless. His expression is thunderous, pitch-black eyes glaring down at you. On all fours, you crawl forward and splay your palms across his thighs, feel them twitch and tremble beneath your nimble fingers.

“You couldn’t fuckin’ wait?” he snaps, hand finding a home in your hair once more. He drags it into a ponytail and wraps it around his fist.

“Sorry,” you lie, teeth nipping at your swollen bottom lip. Joel’s eyes follow the movement and he grunts, unimpressed with the apology.

“She could’ve caught us,” he admonishes you.

“Better start locking the door then,” you clip, winking lazily. A short huff passes through his lips, and then his left hand is dropping to land on your chin, thumb rubbing against your lower lip, prying it from between your teeth.

“Open,” he orders.

His jaw is set with concentration, eyebrows drawn low as he cradles your jaw, holding it still while he pushes his cock back into your eager mouth. The salt of him rushes your senses again and you’re moaning around him, cheeks hollowed and eyes wet as he begins to rut into your mouth, the tip of his cock caressing the back of your throat with every thrust. It’s fast and hard, and the noises coming out of you are scandalous, but you can’t drag your eyes away from his face. Lips parted, eyes ablaze as he watches his cock push in and out of your mouth, over and over again. A tear streaks down your cheek and Joel groans, swiping at it with his fingers. Shallow curses and murmurs of your name spill from his lips in a tortured stream of consciousness.

“Always so fuckin’—impatient,” he mutters. His grip on your jaw is near bruising, cock throbbing against your tongue. You can sense how close he is. Feel it in the way his hips start to stutter, snapping thrusts losing their rhythm.  

The stretch has a dull ache searing through your jaw, but Joel is breathless, eyes dark and focused on yours, saying, “Look at you. So pretty takin’ my cock like this.” and you can’t bring yourself to care. Your eyelids flutter closed, and his fingers are tapping your cheek quickly—softly?

“Let me see you,” he says urgently. “Want those eyes on me, don’t close them.” You cast your eyes up to meet his gaze, and Joel hisses under his breath, expression taut.

His hips drag backward, and he’s replacing your mouth with his hand, fucking himself in quick, brutal strokes, and your mouth is open, slick tongue peaking between your lips before he can even say open your mouth.

“Fuck,” he exhales at the sight, tip bumping against your tongue with every wet pump of his fist. His thighs are trembling beneath your hands, and you dig your nails into the muscles there, encouraging him. “Fuck me.”

And then he’s coming, face going slack as hot ropes of his come paint your lips, your tongue, your chin. Unashamed rasps of your name fall from pink lips, washing over you in glorious waves as you sit there and take all of it. And for a moment, you think it’s over. But then Joel’s hand is still moving over his length, calloused thumb gliding against the ridge of his rounded tip, and there’s more.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Fuck—yes.”

Salty strings of his spend gloss over your cheeks and slide down to paint your neck. And it’s like he’s coming a second time, torso jolting in short, jerky movements, and you wish you could see his body while he came; the way the muscles in his stomach would flex and pull taut, entire frame straining as he gives you his all.  

His shoulders slump forward as he stares down at you, hand falling away from his sensitive cock, and his face is ruined. Eyes blown wide, cheeks a dark red, looking at you like he’d enjoy nothing more than to devour you whole. Maintaining eye contact, you swallow down his spend, practically purring at the taste of him.

Joel’s thumb smears his come off your cheeks and into your swollen mouth, making sure you don’t miss a single drop.

“Good girl,” his voice is broken. “That’s it, yeah—yes, s’perfect.”

Perfect, perfect, perfect. The word rings in your ears. Your skin is on fire, and you can’t believe that you are both still fully clothed. You feel naked, bared to him in the truest sense of the word, despite being completely covered up.

He groans heartily when you suck his fingers between your lips, tongue swirling around them greedily, and swallow down the last of his spend. 

For a moment after, the two of you simply sit there, your knees chafed and aching against the carpet, his fingers hooked against your tongue, staring at each other. And you know. You both know – there’s no going back from this.

Joel drags his hand away and snatches a box of tissues from the top drawer of his desk. You stand, knees popping in relief, and lean against the desk to stabilise yourself. He takes a moment to clean himself, and when you’re sure he’s not looking you swipe a pen from his desk, scribble a set of numbers on a post it and press the sticky paper down against the cover of The Odyssey.

He offers you the box of tissues and you wipe your face carefully, make sure no trace of him is left on your skin. Joel watches your movements like a hawk, eyes fading from black to brown as he fixes his belt and tucks his shirt back into his pants.

“You good?” he asks after a moment. And it’s the same. The same thing he asked you that night in the bar after fucking your brains out. After calling you a slut, a dirty little thing. Maybe it’s his thing—you good? And it’s more than anyone else has ever said after you’ve had their cock in your mouth, so you smile at him. Nod. The duality of man, you think.

“Perfect,” you use his word, and cringe at how wrecked your voice is. The corner of Joel’s mouth twitches upward, something sly and conspiratorial in his gaze as he watches you tuck your computer into your bag, IT issue long forgotten.

Even as you wander toward the door of his office, tossing a casual see you tomorrow over your shoulder, you can see it in his face. In the lines by his eyes, the furrow of his brow; never satiated, never finished, never satisfied. More, more, more. This wasn’t enough for either of you. And this will not be the last time.

Hours later, when you’re tucked into bed with a glass of wine and a book perched in your lap, you get a text from an unknown number.

You’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days.

And then another, twenty minutes later.

That can’t happen again.

You grin. Save his number under J MILLER, PhD, and don’t reply.

tags: @lovely-ateez @nana90azevedo @stevie75 @evyiione @dameron-grant-spector @brittmb115 @ashhlsstuff @casa-boiardi @sinfulrock @bbyanarchist @murc0cks4eva @hopplessilse @joeldjarin @anoverwhelmingdin @bluevxnus @kelp-dreaming @prettyinpunk85 @spacelatinos4life @iluvurfather @daisies-yellow @mrsquill @sarap-77 @sunnywithachanceofjavi @alleyy-katt @zeida

thank you for reading! x

#my writing #fic: a lover's pinch #professor!joel #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller smut