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joelsmochi · 11 months

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Dirty Lies

SUMMARY: Joel realized how much you matured since he last saw you 4 years ago and can’t resist you. WARNINGS: age gap [reader is 22, joel is 35], smut minors dni, no descriptions of reader aside from having shoulder length hair & having a girly sense of fashion, pervy!joel, shy-ish!joel, needy!joel, reader seduces joel. 18+ WARNINGS: infidelity if you squint (technicalities people), brief objectification, masturbation (f), oral (f receiving), dirty talk, reader was a lying little shit in high school but it paid off WC: 7.3k [please read author's note]

A/N: this was originally going to be a 15k word long smut as part of my LDR series, but........ I figured the more parts I can make out of it the more content I can produce, so here is part one of Us Against The World. Enjoy :) Edit: I’m rereading this and noticing a few typos, I apologize about those! Grammarly isn’t so helpful sometimes…

There you were in your blue tank top and yoga pants laying with your father’s dog in the middle of the front yard. You had just returned from New York a few days earlier from college, which your father amicably told Joel about over a few beers the week before.

Joel was expecting to see your 18-year-old self: long hair, sparkly eyeshadow, dressed in your late mother’s hand-me-downs from the 80s. But that was no longer you.

You dressed more modern and age-appropriate. Your hair was shorter, looked curlier, and you had highlights. Your eyebrows were thinner and your face was free from the loud makeup your teenage self was accustomed to. Joel would make jokes from time to time about how he believed you were just born with glitter all over your eyes.

Joel felt a little silly thinking you wouldn’t have changed. Who doesn’t make a drastic change when they leave high school? He hadn’t found the time to stop by and say hello but he wasn’t necessarily rushing it.

He’d met your father when you guys moved in next door in 1993 and he remembered you introduced yourself the second you saw him and Sarah playing outside despite your father’s protests.

You told Joel about how your dad was only being grumpy because he’d just turned thirty-six. Something about getting old. You didn’t bother to retain that information.

But here you were: all grown up. It reminded Joel of the day he overheard you and your best friend talking about how handsome you thought he was. He wondered if you still felt that way.

You sat up, feeling the sense that someone was watching you; your eyes scanned around until instinct made you look to the same window Joel was standing in.

For some reason, he didn’t feel embarrassed about being caught staring. He offered you an energetic smile and you took in his appearance.

He hadn’t changed much — his hair was a little longer and he had a few more fine lines across his face, but he was still the handsome man you remembered and admired.

You stand up and walk over to the window prompting him to open it.

“Hey, creep,” you teased with a big grin, “how ya been?”

Even your voice sounded different with its blend of Texas and New York. It was sultry with a hint of confidence. He tried not to let his weaknesses show.

“I’m doing all right… Sorry for starin’. Could hardly tell that was you,” he responded.

You just barely saw his eyes glance down to your chest, and it made you smirk.

Had this been any other man you’d have your fist meeting their jaw, but it wasn’t any other man. It was Joel. You hadn’t forgotten that he was attractive, but you did forget just how attractive. Or maybe his sexiness came with his age.

Not like it mattered anyways. It wasn’t like you could make a move.

“I been gettin’ that a lot… Dad tells me you’re a contractor now with Tommy.”

Joel nodded and said, “Yep, hated workin’ for other people, so…”

You were unsure if you were being awkward or if it was just… Awkward.

“Cool. Yeah, no, I get that. How is Tommy, by the way? Is he still really cute?” You giggled.

This made Joel roll his eyes. “Not cuter than me,” he answered begrudgingly. You watched how his eyes faltered again, trailing from your lips to your belly ring. “Your dad let you get that?”

You scoffed and waved your hand lazily as if you were swatting his condescending tone away. “One, Dad can’t tell me what to do with my body. And two, Tommy was always the cuter one.”

“S’that so?” Joel grunted as if he were tempted to laugh.

You gave him a cunning look and nodded. “Yeah. But you were always more handsome.”

Joel found himself blushing at the compliment, trying to wipe the redness away with his calloused palm to no avail.

You let out a quiet teetering laugh and looked back to make sure your dog was okay for a moment. “He get that dog after I left?”

Joel focused on you again and confirmed it once he noticed the dog again. “Yeah. I think your dad likes having something to take care of.”

You looked back into Joel’s eyes and bathed in them for a moment. He seemed more like himself, more certain of who he was. It made you a little sad to know how much time has passed, but maybe it was better this way.

“He was always like that. I think it started after… Well, you know.” You took a deep breath and tried to change the subject. “How’s Sarah? She still my little rockstar?”

“She’s more of a pop star, now,” he said. “She still wears that bracelet you let her have, the… The silver one.”

Your chest swelled with joy and you couldn’t contain your excitement. “Really?! Aw, man, that’s so cool. I remember I would throw a fit if I didn’t have that damn thing on.” The dog barking grabbed your attention once again. He was just barking at the mailman but settled once the worker started petting him. “Sorry!” You shouted before returning your focus to Joel. “Well, Joel it was nice seeing you. We should… Catch up. I could use some… Life advice.”

“I’m free tomorrow night if that works?” He tried to contain his excitement.

You slowly backed away, giving him one more nod and smile. “Perfect. Just come over whenever like old times.”

Joel decided to be respectful enough to not ogle over your ass as you walked away. He turned away from the window wondering how the hell he was going to get over this… Crush?

Is that what this was? A crush?

He decided to not torture himself with his intrusive thoughts.

“Hey, kid,” Joel greeted. You rolled your eyes at the nickname but greeted him back. He entered the backyard slowly trying to get a feel for the mood. He sat next to you in the extra papasan chair and snatched your beer out of your hands. You glared at him, unable to hold it for long when he shot you that infamous smile. “Everything all right?”

He tasted your strawberry chapstick around the rim of the glass and let the taste linger on his tongue. His eyes fell to your lips as he thought about how the chapstick would taste coming straight from you. Raw and unfiltered.

You held your breath, wishing you had enough courage to ask your father these questions. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust your father, you just wanted an opinion from an outside perspective. You were hoping Joel wasn’t as inclined to protect or embarrass you as much as your dad.

“There’s this guy I’ve been dating for a few months now… I…” You sigh frustratedly with the tension surrounding the question meanwhile Joel grew tense and jealous? He asked himself why that was the way he felt about you having a boyfriend.

You apprehensively said, “We had sex a few times before I left and it wasn’t…good.”

“Okay?” Joel asked as a way to tell you to keep going.

“How should I go about telling a guy that?”

He cleared his throat uncertain of how to answer your question. He didn’t want his newly discovered feelings to cloud his judgment as the chances of you two becoming a thing were slim to none. He wouldn’t want to sabotage you or your relationships. Especially when you trusted him enough to ask such a burdening question.

Joel accepted the awkwardness of the topic and put it aside. He didn’t want you to feel embarrassed. “Well, have you tried suggesting things that he can do to make you—it feel good?” He asked.

“Yeah, but I’m starting to wonder if it’s me,” you admitted.

“Does he do the things you ask him to?”

“Kinda?” Your cheeks flushed and your eyebrows furrowed tightly.

He gave you a look that said come on now.

“He like… Does half of it?” You could just die of embarrassment right now.

“Wh—? How does he do half of it?”

You groaned obnoxiously and chugged some more beer. “I don’t know?! He does what I ask for like five minutes and then just does what he’s used to I guess.” He watched you poke your bottom lip out to pout as you stared into the glass bottle. “I really like him, Joel.”

“Does he like you?”

“Well, yeah,” you said as if it were obvious. “Fuck is that supposed to mean?”

He inhaled sharply through his teeth and stole your beer bottle again. “All I will say is that a man that truly likes you would try harder, especially during sex, and especially if you’ve told him how he could make you feel good.”

“So… What do I do?”

“Do you think he likes you?” He asked again. “Think about it for a second. What does he do for you?”

“Well, he…” Your voice trailed off into silence as your mind went blank. Surely this guy did something for you to make you like him, right? But anything that did happen to come to mind was the bare minimum. You didn’t want to give Joel the satisfaction, so you said, “I think it could work.”

“Who’re trying to convince? Me or yourself?” He saw the frustration on your face and propped a finger below your chin to make you look at him. “If a guy really likes you, sweetheart, you wouldn’t have to ask more than once,” was all he said after he took a sip of your beer.

“What do you mean?”

Joel’s sigh almost sounded irritated. “I mean… A guy that truly likes you and deserves you won’t make you suffer through sex. A real man’ll take care a’you.”

“A real man, huh?” You bantered.

“Mm-hmm.”

“Like you?”

“I’d like to think so.”

“Do you like me?”

Why the fuck did I ask him that?! You thought as soon as the words left your mouth.

Joel didn’t couldn’t answer right away. His voice just stumbled over his tongue and out of his mouth.

“I think you’re a sweet girl,” he finally said, “and you’re smart enough to know who’s worthy of your time and attention. Doesn’t sound like it’s him.”

You couldn’t defeat the growing smirk on your face as he fought the urge to look over your body. He wasn’t so good at hiding it.

You turned your body in the chair slightly and dauntingly lifted your leg to touch your bare toes against his calf. You watched his breath get caught in his throat and your mouth fell open in awe at how easy it was to get him riled up.

He looked at the ground, not moving a single inch of his body. He was overwhelmed by your confidence.

The amount of attention Joel’s given you in the last ten minutes already seemed to surpass the attention your “boyfriend” (can you even call him that?) had given you.

Your foot trailed up Joel’s leg before you rested it upon his knee; Joel’s eyes screwed shut as if he were praying to not get caught like this, but your voice brought his gaze back to you.

“You didn’t answer my question, Joel,” you whispered seductively. Your foot left his leg and you got on your knees in the chair, then you leaned forward, hands around the rim of his own seat, and leaned in devilishly close to his face. “Do you like me?”

He swallowed hard, his fingertips turning white as they pressed into the bottle.

His lack of an answer caused an impatience to grow inside you. You leaned in even closer and strengthened your eye contact with him. Your fingers absentmindedly trailed over his knee to the midpoint of his clad thigh.

His spine shivered and his arms grew goosebumps. “Why don’t you have this attitude with your boyfriend?” He asked lowly in a poor attempt to further evade answering you.

You snickered and looked over his beer-covered lips, craving to taste them. “If I’m being honest he’s technically not my boyfriend… You’re tellin’ me things about men and how they should act. It’s making me feel like… He just can’t handle me.”

He smirked at you, fighting the way his body pleaded to touch yours. “If that’s the case then, sweetheart, I don’t think he’s the one for you.”

“Oh?” You got even closer, your nose touched his and you heard him choke on his breath. “Do you think you could handle me?”

He chuckled rashly and straightened his posture, now sensing you tense up. “I could,” he confidently confessed. “But this ain’t right, sweetheart.”

“Please,” you scoff, “you can’t keep your eyes off of me.”

“If you keep actin’ like a spoiled brat you won’t be able to keep my hands off of you.”

“Maybe that’s what I want,” you retorted, a cocky essence in your eyes.

“That so?”

“Maybe you can show me how a real man should be taking care of me.”

Joel had to stop himself from speaking as it would have potentially led to consequences. His flustered cheeks and wide lustful eyes created a hunger you’d never felt before.

However, you wanted Joel to earn it. Push him to the point of begging for just a taste of you. You needed to know if he craved you. Something you longed for from other men that just could not deliver.

You hovered your agape lips over his so dangerously it tickled his nerves. You gave him a soft kiss on the cheek then sat back in your original position.

Joel was both relieved and disappointed with the kiss. Relieved it didn’t end up with his head buried between your thighs, and at the same time disappointed that it didn’t.

For the next few days, you settled into your room as best as you could and got everything how you wanted it to be. Well, almost. You wanted a shelf to go over your closet so that you could display your most prized possessions.

When the idea sparked in your head you remembered that your dad said he was going to be gone for most of the day. You figured you could hold off for one more day. That was until you heard some power tools and heavy grunting from beyond your window.

Joel.

Joel had followed your lead as best as he could and you had to admit that the lack of physical contact was making it harder to resist him.

You felt a bit strange, however. After all, this is Joel. Sweet, caring, next-door neighbor Joel. You and your friends had a crush on him and his brother, Tommy, sure, but this wasn’t that. And you surely weren’t a child anymore. But still, you couldn’t help but think of how strange the dynamic is.

It wasn’t enough to stop you from taking your sweatpants off and changing out of your t-shirt into a stretchy tank top. You poked your head out of your window and shouted Joel’s name a few times until you successfully got his attention.

“Hey!” You said with a proud smile.

“Hey, kid!” He shouted back.

“Can you build a shelf for me? I wanted to get my room done today, but my old man’s gone!”

“Right now?” He tried to seem indifferent.

You just smiled harder and motioned for him to come over. “Please?!”

He huffed and looked at his half-done project, ultimately deciding to help you instead. The sooner he helps you the sooner he could create distance, he figured. Though deep down he knew that wasn’t the real reason.

You patter downstairs to unlock the door for him. He could see from the corners of his eyes that you were half naked, only in white panties and your top.

“Couldn’t a’put pants on?” He asked grumpily as he walked past you, not giving you the satisfaction of staring. You shut and lock the door before guiding him upstairs.

“Yeah, but I figured since you were doing the job for free I could at least give you something to look at,” you flirted. He didn’t even bother trying to stop you.

“What d’ya need done exactly?” He asked, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“I want those shelves to hang over my closet right… Here. I have a power drill here already, I just couldn’t figure out how to get it.”

He was doing a decent job at keeping his eyes anywhere but on your body, but in his mind he had already taken your clothes off and fucked you against the wall.

“S’alright, I can get it for ya,” he said while giving you an earnest look.

“What?” You asked after a moment of silence.

“Nothing,” he answered with a shrug and a smirk. You lightly smack his arm and plop down on your bed.

You lay on your stomach and flipped through a fashion magazine, occasionally smelling some of the perfume samples. You snuck glances at Joel’s broad back as he made sure everything could be lined up, smiling to yourself at how efficiently he worked.

“How’s your boyfriend?” Joel randomly asked after about ten minutes. You looked at him through your eyelashes as he peaked over his shoulder.

You stifled your laugh and began looking at the magazine again before answering him. “He actually ended things with me two days ago. But like I said, he technically wasn’t my boyfriend. He never asked.”

“Oh… You doing okay? Seemed like you really liked him.”

“I like someone else more,” was all you said. Joel took a second, then just nodded even though you weren’t looking at him anymore.

“This someone have a name?” He asked after a few more moments of silence.

Joel’s internal conflict was teetering between giving in and giving up. He wasn’t sure why he was so drawn to you, but that’s what fueled his filthy thoughts even more.

“Yep, he sure does.”

Your tone was the exact opposite of what you were feeling. You felt hot and desperate, but you (almost) fooled him by sounding bored. He didn’t want to give into your childish game of beating around the bush, so he kept his mouth shut and began hammering a nail into the wall.

Suddenly you had an idea. An awfully sinister one.

You tossed the magazine on your nightstand and sat up in the bed, leaning into a few pillows and angling yourself so that Joel could get the perfect view if he dared to look.

Your hands traced uneven lines and patterns over your clad breasts and you gasped softly at your nipples perking up quickly. He couldn’t hear you over his hammering.

You rid yourself of your wet panties, kicking them to the edge of the bed. You spread your legs and began working big and slow circles over your sensitive clit. You used your free hand to pinch your nipple over your shirt, the combination of stimuli making you give a more audible moan.

Joel didn’t think much of it at first — he figured you were moving around on the bed to get more comfortable. So when the next moan came and he stopped his work to look at you he was taken aback, to say the least.

He said your name, but you shook your head in protest. “Is this okay?” You asked, innocence spreading across your face.

He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe.

“Joel?” You snapped him out of his daze. “S’this okay?”

He nodded and watched your trembling hands dip down into your glistening slit, collecting your wetness and coating it over your clit. Your body was stiff with anticipation, watching him watch you.

He took in all of your beauty like the way your eyes fluttered halfway shut and how you bit your plump lip to quiet your mewls. One hand cupped your breast so gently and the other rubbing steady, taunting circles over your sensitive bud. He watched the way you pleased yourself and let this picture of you engrave itself into his memory.

One day, Joel thought, I’d be able to make her feel as good as she makes herself feel.

He ignored the hardening of his cock pressing against his jeans, not caring enough to touch himself if it meant he didn’t get to feel you. He found the situation quite sexy and the lack of physical contact made him feel good.

You were showing him that he didn’t need to touch you or talk to you. He didn’t need to do a damn thing. All he needed to do was stand there and let you look at him.

Your moans were quiet and soft, barely heard by him. You squeezed your nipple harshly and jolted at the shock of electricity it sent throughout your body, your eyes screwing shut and your legs curling up into an almost fetal position at the feeling.

He saw you swallow the lump in your throat as you looked into his eyes again, soon scanning over his body and imagining how he would feel on top of you. The imagination was more than enough to get you going.

You imagined he felt strong and heavy above you, trapping you with his burly arms and using his lean thighs to keep your legs open for him as he rolled his hips to meet yours.

You absentmindedly curled your middle and ring finger into your creamy pussy, chasing after the feeling of being stretched out by Joel. Your pussy effortlessly squelched as your discharge poured out of you like a waterfall, coating your plump ass cheeks in your juices.

You got a bit louder but remained mindful of the open windows just a few feet away. You watched the movement in his jeans from his cock that twitched, longing for just some fucking relief. But he didn’t move, he didn’t even adjust his pants. He wanted you to know that you were the one in charge and that he was willing to suffer just for you.

“Joel,” you breathed out in between helpless murmurs.

He almost caved at how sweetly you said his name like you were asking for help. You reached even further into your sex, pressing into your sweet spot carefully. You pretended it was him.

Allowing your eyes to shut and your mouth to open, your mind dove deeper into the fantasies of Joel. You imagined him fucking you slowly, steady enough to not make your bed squeak too loud. Your fingers followed your mind, bumping against your g-spot the same way you wanted him to: carefully, yet forceful.

Joel felt awkward just standing there watching you, but you looked so beautiful. Sprawled out just for him with your fingers dipping into your sopping cunt as if you were made just for him. He saw your shoulders twitch and a hiss escaped your lips.

A ripple of ecstasy shocked your nerves, your walls tighten around your fingers, and your clit tensed up with a tickling sensation.

Your face twisted from the overwhelming feeling that began to encapsulate you from your core to your mind. Your moans became shallow and louder. Your clit throbbing beneath your palm motivated your to work your fingers faster. You fucked yourself with more desire than you had before, still twisting your perky nipple between your other fingers.

You were a lot more gentle with yourself than Joel would have expected. You took your time, didn’t overwhelm yourself.

He knew he loved it when the ever-growing pressure inside of you burst into a million flames throughout your trembling body. He saw that the slower you were with yourself the more intense the orgasm was.

He accidentally groaned at the sight of you: clinging to your bedsheet with the very hand that toyed with your breast, eyes refusing to open from the immense pleasure soaring through your veins, curling up into a ball because your body couldn’t comprehend just how good you were feeling.

He noticed how your cum gushed around and below your fingers creating a wet spot on your blanket. He carefully watched as you opened your eyes, still slowly fingering yourself. You continued to feel your orgasm, exploring how much of it you could endure.

You moved your free hand to your clit and rubbed tiny and fast circles around it. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you refused to moan anything but his name.

You shoved your fingers deep inside of you to press against your g-spot relentlessly. Your toes curled at the mix of pleasure.

You knew your orgasm was coming back more powerful than before already, and you braced yourself when your walls flexed against your fingers basically forcing them out; you chewed hard on your lip and laid your stiff fingers flat against your clit to rub from side to side at the arrival of your squirt. You squealed behind your swollen lip and let your squirt splash everywhere.

Joel palmed his rock-hard cock for some relief as he watched in awe at how you came for him. You looked so fucking delicious soaking yourself in your juices. His heart punched against his chest and his mind nearly blank, only filled with you.

Your lips formed an ‘o’ shape as you eased up on your clit. You let out sweet hums of bliss and you opened your eyes again, carefully analyzing his body language.

He practically reeked of inferiority. He was your marionette, your toy, whatever you wanted him to be. He didn’t recognize you in the best way possible. You were an unwrapped present that he couldn’t wait to open and play with. Your confidence grew at his puppy eyes that were low and dark, filled with a need to serve you.

Your fingers collected some of the creamy nectar between your folds before you brought it to your mouth and darted your wet tongue out to taste it.

You never broke eye contact once, observing how his body shuddered at the filthy action. His breath was heavy, his chest heaved in anticipation. You stuck your fingers inside of your mouth moaning at the salty goodness coating every single taste bud.

It wasn’t until your fingers dropped back down to your side and you gave him a shit-eating grin that he finally looked away, sighing loudly.

He felt ashamed of himself.

He’d known you since you were a child.

How could he ever look you in the eye again?

How could he ever look your father in the eye again?

You slipped your panties on again while he wasn’t looking and just grabbed your magazine, flipping through the pages again like nothing ever happened though the wet spot on your bed clearly said otherwise.

When Joel saw you had returned to your previous activities he did the same. Drilling and hammering your shelves onto the wall like nothing fucking happened.

“Here you go sir, you have a lovely day,” you chirped at the customer as you handed him his food waiting until he left. You turned around to straighten up the counter behind you when the bell on the door jingled. “Hello, give me just one moment and I’ll be with you!”

You gave the counter a lazy wipe with the wet washcloth before tossing it into the sink nearby and turning around, being met with a smirking Joel.

“My, my, you working at a burger joint? Never thought I’d see the day,” he teased.

You made a face and told him to shut up. You tried not to notice the sheer layer of sweat that coated his partially exposed chest. “What can I get you, sir?”

His face contorted with arrogance and he placed a hand over his chest. “Sir? You callin’ me sir now? Oh, you are just too cute.”

With a roll of your eyes, you huffed out a stream of air, waiting for him to stop fucking with you.

“Okay, okay,” he laughed, dropping the act. “Can I get a burger and some fries?”

“You don’t want a drink?” You asked before writing his order down quickly and sliding it through the kitchen window.

“Are you tryin’a make me tip you more?”

You shrugged. “Nah, it’s just that the cola here is really good.”

“Mmm,” he hummed as if he didn’t believe you.

“If you want a cola I’ll make it extra cold for you,” you whispered as if you were telling him a dirty secret.

“Mhm, okay. Fine, I’ll take your word for it. Gon’ and get it f’me then.”

“You can ask that a little nicer,” you scoffed. You walked off, breathing in a gust of smoke on your way to the soda machine. “F’here or to-go?!” You shouted.

“Mm, I was gonna get it to go, but I think I’ll stay and keep you company.”

You could just hear the smile in his voice.

“Awe, how thoughtful of you,” you bantered before rinsing out a clean cup and filling it with ice. The cook called out the order was ready and you thanked him before finishing up with Joel’s drink. You grabbed the tray and walked over to the end of the counter where the stools sat, setting the food in front of Joel with a weak smile.

He watched you closely as you leaned onto your elbows waiting for him to try his food.

“What r’ya doing workin’ in a restaurant? Didn’t you graduate for like… Fashion or some shit?” Joel asked, unable to keep his smile down at how pretty you looked in your uniform: a teal skirt and a mustard yellow shirt, but so, so tacky. You hated the fucking outfit, it was everything you would never wear, but Joel thought you made it look good.

“I did,” you confirmed, “but I wanted a humbling job before I truly entered the world of fashion.”

Joel’s thick and somewhat dirty fingers unraveled his greasy burger after he dumped the fries out chaotically. He took an unnecessarily big bite, not seeing how your eyes watched the trail of juice trickle down the corner of his mouth to his chin before he swept it set with his thumb.

“Humbling, hmm?” He questioned before swallowing his barely chewed bite. “You’re a wise girl, you know?”

“So I’ve been told,” you smugly replied. You stole a fry off of his tray and smiled at his frowning face while eating it before washing it down with his fizzling soda. “Best drink that ��fore it goes flat.”

You walked away momentarily to help a customer that just walked in; she only wanted a dollar milkshake so you told her not to worry about paying. You took a dollar and some change from your tip pocket and put it in the register before grabbing a styrofoam cup and packing her cup.

Joel noticed halfway through you making the shake that whenever you tapped the bottom of the cup against the counter your breast jiggled against your arm. He felt the lady nearby staring at him so he turned his head just enough to see the mix of disgust and concern on her face.

If only she knew how filthy you were for him just last week…

He didn’t care enough to stop though, he just went back to looking at how your clothes hugged your body.

You finished up her shake and popped a lid on it before grabbing a straw and walking back to give it to her.

Joel heard the lady ask if you were okay, and he promptly rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and tried his best to not laugh. You were confused by her question, simply nodding your head and saying, “Yeah?”

She looked at Joel once more, choosing not to say another word before leaving.

“Fuck was that about?” You asked, watching her walk away.

“She saw me starin’ at your tits,” he said between obnoxious bites. “If only she saw—“

Your eyes widened. “Do not finish that sentence.”

“Whatever you say, doll,” he teased before taking another bite.

You pretended to be grossed out by seeing the chewed-up food in his mouth as he spoke, swatting his hand gently. “You’re so gross.”

“You love me,” he quipped with a simper. He took a sip of his drink, humming at how refreshing it felt. “This is good,” he told you.

“Told ya.”

“What time are you out?”

You looked at the door when your manager came in, apologizing for taking longer than she expected.

“You’re fine, it’s a slow day,” you told her as she walked to her office. You looked at Joel and slammed your book and pen on the counter near the register. “I’m out now. Why?”

“Your dad asked me to pick you up.”

You felt a rush of worry. “Why? Is he okay?”

“Yeah, honey, everything’s fine. He forgot about pickin’ you up today and got drunk with his buddies and called me—well, he called Tommy. Said he wouldn’t be back home ‘til tomorrow.”

You raised an eyebrow at the mention of his brother’s name. “Oh? Well, why isn’t Tommy here?” You strutted around the counter and stood next to Joel as he inhaled the last of his food.

“Think you know why,” he grunted.

Anxiety pang inside of your chest, but you convinced yourself it was excitement. You were hoping that he wanted to get you alone somewhere and fuck you into the next week.

But you didn’t want to seem desperate. You kept a straight face, waiting for your boss to come back out before getting your things and punching out.

You followed Joel to his Chevy and thanked him when he opened the door for you. He huffed when by the time he got inside the car himself you were already flipping through his book of CDs.

“I got a good one in already—“

“Is it The Writing’s On the Wall by Destiny’s Child?” You interrupted after you found said CD.

“No, b—“

“Then it’s not what I want to listen to.”

Joel endured your (arguably bad) singing for the ten-minute ride back to your house. He thought about a few things in that ten minutes:

-Sarah wasn’t home, so he didn’t need to worry about food (or getting caught), so this time was optimal to make a move on you.

-If he were to make a move on you, then you two wouldn’t get caught.

-If he were to make a move on you, how exactly would he do it?

Once he arrived in his driveway, you both stepped out of the car and he walked over to your side.

“You not working tonight?” You asked.

“No, we finished early.”

You looked at him with lush eyes and bit the inside of your mouth, a flirty smile coaxing your lips. He looked hopeful for something, anything.

“I was just gonna watch TV all night,” you started, “and maybe make some dinner. I know you just ate, but you and Sarah are welcome to come over.”

“Sarah’s at a friend’s tonight, doing some studying,” he answered. His voice trailed off as if he weren’t finished speaking his thought aloud, but you picked up where he reluctantly left off.

“Do you want to come over, then? Just you?”

He looked around the quiet neighborhood as if he had to think about what he wanted. “Uh, yeah, sure.”

You lead him to your house, kicking your shoes off at the door and he followed. He felt unsure of his decision. He wondered if this night would play out platonically and just be filled with conversation and dinner, or if this was truly the beginning of a secret he’d have to keep forever.

“Spaghetti okay?” You asked him once you both entered the kitchen, decorated with oranges and reds, and yellows, reminiscent of your late mother. You tossed your half apron on the island before making your way to the refrigerator.

You heard his feet patter on the linoleum quickly but before you could turn around on your own Joel did it, pinning your back against the refrigerator and knocking down some of the bottles inside of it.

You gasped when his fingers peacock over the outsides of your thighs, gripping at the hem as a means to pace himself.

His eyes were bright yet lustful as his proximity alone sucked the air out of your lungs. Your chests heaving against each other’s created the only other physical contact you had with him.

He then dropped to his knees before you got the chance to speak; his calloused hands rose beneath your skirt, hiking it up enough for him to pull your wet panties down to your ankles. You stepped out of them for him and he lifted one of your legs over his shoulder before meeting his mouth to your clit tongue first.

You moaned at how he just dove into it, not bothering with kissing or easing you into it. Your digits laced through his messy curls while his tongue coated itself in your juices.

His tongue did crazy laps around your clit and he smacked a couple of firm kisses in between his licks. You tried to watch his work but your stupid fucking skirt was in the way. You settled, however when his eyes opened, the only visible part of him from your view.

You tasted so good to him, he tasted your day of work mixed in with your salty precum and he couldn’t get enough of it. He moaned when you tugged at his hair, burying his face as deep as he could and closing his eyes.

You let out a stream of obscenities while using your calf to push into his back, afraid that if you didn’t hold on tight enough he’d vanish.

He wrote out his full name over your clit like he was casting a spell that anything you or someone else touched you there you would only think about him.

You were amazed at how good he was eating you out — you didn’t think he’d be bad. You just didn’t know it could feel this good. It was like you felt him touching and kissing and licking all over your body, swimming in an endless pool of dissolution.

His touch was decadent through remembering how careful you were with yourself. He wanted to cater to you and to make you feel as good as you made yourself. And on top of that, he just really wanted to eat your pussy.

Savor it.

Taste it.

Drink you until you fucking ran dry and begged him to stop.

Nothing could have torn his lips away from your pussy. Hell, someone could have walked in and he’d still keep going.

“Joel,” you gasped, throwing your head back and grinding on his face.

He loudly moaned, tightening his grip around your thighs and wagging his head furiously from side to side to provide more stimulation.

Your hips bucked into his face roughly and you screeched, pulling even tighter on his hair.

“Joel, oh—fu-fuck!”

He smirked and pulled at the skirt to unveil his eyes again. His dick angered in his jeans, but he ignored it. He’d much rather focus on the way you writhed from his touch. Your panting growing heavier fueled his already intense movements. He began to suck while still shaking his head earning another screech from you.

You never felt out of control with how loud you were before. Every motion sent a million shockwaves throughout your body. You always did a good job at keeping quiet enough so that the neighbors wouldn’t hear, but fucking hell was Joel the one to break that evergreen streak.

You felt his hot breath collide with the fluids coating your sex and his nails leave indents on your flesh.

His tongue darted out to collect a stream of your cum, but his nose butted against your clit as he continued shaking his head making your hips buck once more. Then he realized… He got to stimulate your sensitive bud and lick between your folds.

He loved it.

Your moans became more distressed and uneven; he felt you chasing that high. He wanted you to cum so fucking badly. To let all of your pent-up cum pour over him.

You held the back of his head gently and he angled it just right enough for you to ride his face.

“Use my fucking face,” he moaned loud enough between your legs for you to hear. “Use my fucking face to cum.”

Your body gave in finally at his hoarse voice; your hops sped up, still using his nose and lips to overstimulate yourself. The orgasm was forceful, your moans strident.

Joel felt a pool of your cum leak out and drip down his chin onto his neck. He watched you crumble and curl into him and he was attentive enough to hold you steady while your balance dissipated.

Your head was dizzy and your vision blurred. You slowly halted your movements and just stood there being held by him while he placed light, but loving kisses along your dripping cunt.

He finally pulled his face out from underneath your skirt and carefully put your leg down before standing. He tucked some loose hairs back or behind your ears, then caressed your cheek and gave you a peck.

You wiped some of your cum off of his wet chin with your thumb and held it up to his mouth which he gladly sucked on. He grinned at you afterward and fixed your skirt for you.

The silence was soothing because frankly, neither of you knew what to say. It left you speechless, but that could just be the aftereffect of your climax.

The night was beginning to close in sooner than either of you wanted it to. You two just talked, truly catching up on the past four years. He was a lot funnier than you remembered, your cheeks were aching from how much he was making you laugh.

"You are a real gentleman, Joel Miller. What can I say? Dinner and an orgasm?!"

He lifted you up from your spot on the couch and pulled you into his lap so that you were straddling him. "I don't have to be," he murmured against your lips. His fingers flexed into your feverish skin, holding you upright and close by. He chased you with his lips until you finally let him kiss you. "Be honest with me... Did you really think I was handsome in high school?"

Your face grew warm and you hid behind your hands in embarrassment. "Oh, my God."

"Why are you actin' all shy now?"

"Because you weren’t supposed to know about that."

"Know about what exactly?"

You crossed your arms, deciding to let him win this time. "You want details?"

He smirked and leaned back to get more comfortable.

"Well... I used to lie and tell my friends that we fucked," you admitted.

"Really?" Despite his surprise the smirk never left his face. If anything it grew wider.

You sheepishly nodded. "I used to tell them how good you were. Everything you would do to me."

"What would I do to you?" His cock was already throbbing against his jeans, and just like every other time, he ignored it.

"You would fuck me up against the wall," you explained. "Sometimes, you would bend me over the edge of the bed and spank me for being naughty. Or just 'cause you felt like it. I'd even tell them about how you played with my ass so gently because you didn't want to hurt me."

Every word went straight to his dick, making it jerk and prod your thigh.

"Maybe I do need to bend you over and spank you for all that lyin' you were doin'. Your friends probably think I'm some creep now," he said; his tone wasn’t scolding or cold. He sounded thirsty for more of you. Like his throat had already run dry despite how much of you he drank earlier.

"I'd tell them the truth, but if I were to do that now then I'd be lying again," you whispered against his lips.

"We certainly cannot have you spreadin' no more dirty lies, now. Can we?"

Read Part 2 here.

#joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #tlou smut #joel miller blurb #the last of us hbo #the last of us

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tenelkadjowrites · 2 months

Text

The Heart's Filthy Lesson - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)

🪓Summary: Your best friend has always been dedicated to you. But isn't everyone's best friend like that?

🪓Word count: 15k

🪓Playlist for this fic can be found here.

🪓Genre & warnings: one shot smut. (twisted) best friends to lovers. unreliable narrator. elements of horror. descriptions of stalking against the reader, violence against others (not the reader), unhealthy relationship dynamics. dom hwa. dirty talk. underwear is torn off reader. oral sex, reader receiving. choking, reader receiving. unprotected sex. creampie.

this fic is not meant to represent seonghwa in any way, shape or form.

You’re fumbling with your keys, trying to get it into the lock without dropping your overstuffed bag. Why do I overpack so much? You curse inwardly. Every time, you swear that only essentials will be packed. Somehow, that ends up meaning enough underwear for a month and clothes for three different outfits a day even when you’re just visiting family.

You manage to get the key in the lock, practically tumbling inside your small apartment on the third story. Unceremoniously dumping your bag on the floor, you let out a long sigh. Like all family visits, you’re glad for them but also socially drained.

Padding into your living room, you wince a little. Way too much light in here, you think, I thought for sure I closed the blinds when I left. You turn around, fighting off the urge to take a nap. The trip is catching up to you, leaving you tired.

But you stand in the middle of the room, feeling a strange sense of unease. The living room looks entirely the same yet you cannot shake the sensation that something is different. It’s just cuz I thought I had closed the blinds. But the words ring hollow in your head.

In the quiet atmosphere of the apartment, you can distantly hear the traffic outside and the neighbor upstairs moving something heavy around. Your eyes slowly look across your kitchen counters before landing on a small pile of mail.

Curiously, you walk towards it, picking up the stack. There is a small sticky note stuck to the top with just a quickly drawn smiley face on it, the ink smeared into the paper on one side. Frowning, you peel it off and go through the mail. All of it is from when you were gone –

A knock on the door makes you jump, pressing your hand against your chest for a second. The pile of mail drops back to the counter, scattering across it as you go to the door. You don’t check who it is. You already know.

Opening the door, you find yourself face to face with your overly enthusiastic best friend.

“Hey, I remembered you were supposed to be back around this time so I figured I’d come over to say hi.”

“Hi, Seonghwa,” You say, already moving to the side to let him in.

He glances over his shoulder at you while heading into the living room. “How was the trip? How was your family? Did you tell them that I said hi?” Every word is said quickly, as if they are all fighting for importance and can’t decide what order to pop out in.

You push the door closed, trailing after him. You’ve known Seonghwa longer than anyone else in your life – he used to live next door where you befriended one another at just six years old. You went to the same high school, even the same college and when you decided to move to the city, so did he. You lived on different sides of the city at first until a year ago, when the apartment building finally had an opening and now he lived just one floor under yours. The two of you were a team – you knew everything about him and he never forgot a detail about you. Things were comfortable…although maybe a little too comfortable.

You cross your arms, leaning against the wall. “You brought my mail in.”

He turns to look at you, smiling brightly. Seonghwa always had the same countenance – pleasant and happy. “Yeah, of course.”

“I don’t remember giving you a key.”

“Oh, your plant needs watering.” He leans over and touches the wilting leaves gently, already moving past the fact he let himself into your place without asking. “Want me to do it?” He looks up at you.

You sigh, walking towards him. “Seonghwa,” You touch his hand gently, trying to get his attention.

His expression falters just for a moment before guilt pops in behind his eyes. Seonghwa looks tired, although that isn’t new, because he’s always on his computer at all times of the day and night. He glances downward at where your fingers had grazed his skin for a split second. His profile is so familiar to you – the sharp curve of his jaw, the long nose, his perfectly plump lips hiding perfect teeth. This is the same man you’ve grown up with your entire life. You know objectively he is beautiful but you’ve known him for so long that it no longer catches your notice. From the time he got in trouble for pushing a kid bullying you at the playground when you were both eight years old to sneaking out while in high school to go drink to this very moment, he’s always been there. That’s why you dislike whenever you come off as though you’re lecturing him.

“It was from two weeks ago. Remember? I had to let the plumbers in for you,” Seonghwa protests.

“You’re supposed to give the key back,” You hold out your hand, wiggling your fingers.

He ducks his head, some of his hair falling in front of his eyes as he looks down at the sagging plant. “It’s in my place. I don’t keep it on me.”

“Fine,” You sigh, “Next time, okay?”

Seonghwa bites down on his bottom lip for a second before his eyes lock on yours. “It happened six months ago. I mean, don’t you think – I think I’ve done a good job at not crossing a boundary since then.”

You hadn’t been expecting to have this conversation today. But maybe that is your own fault for constantly putting it off. It isn’t even that you’re mad at him anymore. But coming home late one night to find him passed out drunk in your bed after using your key to get in just felt like shattering a boundary. You took your key back after that, giving your best friend a dressing down even though he was apologizing profusely.

“I mean, you technically weren’t supposed to use the key to drop off my mail,” You point out.

His cheeks flush. “I was trying to be helpful,” He mumbles, eyes darting away from your face.

You sigh, knowing you’re going to give in. That is how it usually worked with Seonghwa. He was always the overzealous best friend, eager to help you even to the extent that it resulted in too much on his own plate.

“I know,” You reply, “And I appreciate it.”

His face lights up, all earlier guilt and tension erased immediately. Seonghwa immediately begins to pepper you with questions about the trip back home, leaving the earlier conversation about boundaries long passed. You aren’t sure if anything you said even sunk into his head. Likely not, you think.

After all, you know Seonghwa so well. You know what sticks to him.

“Hey!” The familiar chipper voice snaps you out of your mindless phone scrolling.

It’s two days later, after work, and you’re meeting Seonghwa for a coffee. The key issue is long forgotten, overtaken by the daily events of life that naturally take more importance than your best friend helpfully bringing in your mail.

He’s pushing through the crowd of people that have formed looking for a late afternoon caffeine boost. It had begun snowing earlier and there are a few snowflakes melting in his hair. His brown jacket hangs off his thin frame, the same jacket he’s had for easily a decade because he doesn’t care enough to buy a new one. It’s well worn, fraying at the seams near the elbows, and you’ve seen it against the backdrop of a multitude of different coffee shops.

“Am I late?” He stands by the table, looking down at you, not paying attention to the man trying to get past him while carefully balancing two cups of coffee in his hands.

“No. Even if you were, it’s okay. I was waiting for you before I got anything.”

You move to get up but Seonghwa shakes his head quickly. “No, no,” He nudges you back in the seat gently, “I’ll go order for us. It’s too crowded.” He is looking in your eyes. “I know what you like.”

He’s gone then, back in the crowd, moving towards the counter. You watch him go, turning your attention back to your phone. Ten minutes later, Seonghwa returns, handing you the coffee and sliding into the seat across from yours. The table is crammed in the corner, a clear attempt to try to fit more seats inside since the snow is coming down.

“I’m getting sensory overload in here,” You remark when someone smacks your arm with their laptop bag on accident.

“Do you want to go?” Seonghwa leans forward, “We can go if it’s too much.”

“No, it’s fine,” You shake your head, “I should have given more consideration to the time, I guess. How are you?”

He drums his fingers against the table while answering. “Fine. The usual. How was work?”

“The usual too. That project I’ve been stuck working on finishes next week – ow,” You wince as someone else hits your arm while squeezing through the tight space between your table and the next.

Seonghwa reacts like lightning, too quick for you to even say anything. His hand reaches for the strap of the man’s bag and he gives a sharp tug on it. “Hey!” He snaps and the man looks over his shoulder with wide eyes, “Pay attention to where you’re going!”

“Seonghwa, it’s fine –”

“I’d rather walk in the snow than be in here,” He says curtly, grabbing his coffee cup and gesturing for you to follow.

You do, and out in the cold, let out a small sigh of relief. Alright, maybe the idea of leaving the crowded coffee shop was the right choice. The soft layer of snow that is forming across everything is ruined by the many feet trampling over it hurrying to get home after work.

But you walk slowly along the sidewalk with Seonghwa, neither of you speaking for a few minutes. You glance out of the corner of your eye to find him looking at you.

He clears his throat quickly and asks, “What were you trying to say in there?”

“Oh, the project. It’s winding down next week. I’m relieved.”

Someone cuts in between the two of you and when Seonghwa moves back closer, he is no longer looking in your direction. “Is the project leader still texting you outside of work?”

You blink, a little surprised he remembers such a small detail from a few months ago. “Yeah, sometimes. But it isn’t anything unprofessional.”

Seonghwa’s cheeks are slightly red from the cold. He is holding the coffee cup tightly for warmth. “He might ask you out when the project is done.”

“Maybe,” You reply with a shrug, “We’ll see.”

Your best friend falls silent. The look in his eyes is from a thousand miles away for a couple of seconds before it snaps back into focus. “Would you say yes?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’ll see how I feel when it happens.” You hadn’t given it a lot of thought.

There is another silence which is unusual for Seonghwa who usually fills the conversation easily. But he seems to be mulling something over and is lost in thought – a rarity.

“What about you?”

His head snaps up, looking at you. “What do you mean?”

A lone snowflake lands on the bridge of his nose. You lean forward and brush it off. The gesture comes automatically, instilled from years of friendship. You’ve brushed a thousand snowflakes off his face and shoulders over the many winters spent hanging out.

“That woman at the coffee shop was flirting with you a few weeks back,” You then frown, “But we haven’t been back since. We could’ve gotten you a date.”

Seonghwa turns his face away from yours, slowing his pace down a little while watching the rush hour traffic grow larger on the road.

“No, I’m good.”

Coming to a stop at the crosswalk, you nudge his shoe with yours. “You haven’t been on a single date in ages.”

“So?” He turns to look at you, his eyes wide and questioning.

“Nothing, you just work a lot from home, that’s all. I wouldn’t want you to miss out something fun because of that.”

“Trust me, I’m not. I just am not interested in awkward dates.” He bounces on the heels of his shoes for a couple of seconds until the crosswalk turns green and he takes off like a shot.

This is typical of Seonghwa’s walking speed and you try to keep up. “Was I overstepping?”

“No,” He replies swiftly, his energy bubbling underneath the surface, “But I had a string of very awkward dates all last year and I need a break from them.” He runs his fingers through his hair, still walking at a brisk pace.

“Right, I get that. I didn’t mean to come off like I was lecturing –”

Seonghwa stops suddenly, so abruptly that you almost trip over your own feet. “You never come off like you’re lecturing,” He says, reaching out to help steady you, “I understand you just want what is best for me.”

“Right,” The word sends up a tiny puff of air from the cold, “You’re in your apartment a lot except when you’re with me. That’s all.”

Seonghwa’s hand is still on your arm but the grip is so loose that you can’t even feel it through the thick jacket. His nails are bitten to the quick. He lowers his hand once he knows you’re not going to fall over.

He flashes a quick grin, the same expression you’ve seen a thousand times. Your shoulders relax, knowing he isn’t upset with you.

“Is that so bad? Maybe I just wanna hang out with my best friend right now.”

“No, there isn’t anything wrong with it. I just need to make sure you’re doing alright though. You’d do the same for me.”

Seonghwa’s grin softens and he gently punches you on the shoulder. “Yeah, of course I would. I’d do anything for you. You know that.” He straightens up. “Now, come on. Enough discussing how I prefer to be indoors all day. Mental check-in complete. Ask me again in six weeks.”

“Right,” You are smiling, your concerns about Seonghwa spending too much time alone now allayed.

“Let’s get home, alright? I’m freezing.”

The conversation resumes, the ebb and flow always the same, some topics circled back so often over the course of time that they feel more like well read books with their spines bent than anything exciting. But you like that with Seonghwa.

With him, what you see is what you get.

“Nope, not Mario Party,” Seonghwa shakes his head, stretched out on the couch in his apartment, “You turn into someone I don’t even know when you play that. Half the time, I think you’re gonna tear my face off.”

You scoff. “Come on. That isn’t true.”

“Yes, it is. Think about last time.”

Shifting awkwardly on the couch, you avoid his eyes. “Whatever,” You mumble, remembering cursing him out for stealing your star.

It’s a week later and you’re trying to unwind from the stresses of work. The project finished yesterday which meant some relief. It is almost a routine now to pop over to Seonghwa’s, play a video game and unwind – to the point where neither of you ask to confirm, it just happens.

His place is organized and tidy, in a way that you could never hope to replicate. A shelf lined with books is next to the TV, with another one filled with his Legos he builds to unwind. His computer with dual monitors is in the corner, the chair pushed out from where he hastily got up once work finished for the day. The apartment is comforting.

Seonghwa gives you a knowing look and you drop the subject, aware he is right. He runs his fingers through his hair before turning his attention to the TV, leaning forward to grab the remote off the coffee table.

“You hear from that client? The one who is clearly interested in you?” He asks suddenly, staring at the TV while booting up Netflix.

Surprised, you glance at him and shift a bit in your spot on the couch. “He’s been texting me a bit.”

Seonghwa makes a noncommittal noise although for one second, you swear his grip on the remote tightens. When he doesn’t say anything further, you’re unsure of where to take the conversation. He’s never shown much interest in who you’ve dated before – in fact, he’s always seemed bored hearing about them, to the point that you barely mention it. You wonder what makes this guy different but something in you holds back asking.

“I gotta pee,” You say instead, and he just nods, swept up in whatever he’s thinking about.

You head down the hall and into the bathroom. You’re about to sit down when you notice there is no toilet paper on the roll. Rolling your eyes, you open the cabinet under the sink and rummage around. Why does he never pay attention to this stuff? Better yet why are you surprised?

The cabinet is as organized as the rest of his place but there is no sign of toilet paper. You try to remember if he stashes it elsewhere but nothing comes to mind. You think of your own cabinet under the bathroom sink and wince. Seonghwa has always been the more organized of you two. You’re lost in thought, pushing aside some cleaning supplies when your eyes land on a strange small black box pushed all the way to the back.

It’s slim and almost glossy, completely out of place to be shoved underneath the bathroom stick. You chew on your bottom lip, curiosity nipping at your brain. Seonghwa isn’t the one for secrets. There’s probably Pokémon cards or something inside that he misplaced.

But you still reach for the box, sitting down on the bathroom floor and opening it quietly. Guilt is poking at you for snooping through your best friend’s stuff. You can’t explain what is even driving you to open something personal that belongs to Seonghwa.

But you do.

There isn’t a lot inside.

One pair of underwear. A house key. A small bracelet.

Your pair of underwear. Your house key. Your small bracelet.

You stare at the items, not comprehending what is in your lap. The pair of underwear is green lace, one of your cuter pairs, and it went missing months ago. Around the time I found him passed out drunk in my bed, a small voice in your head points out.

The memory of the night replays. Coming home late, finding Seonghwa fast asleep in your bed, flopped on his stomach, wrapped up in the bedsheets as if it was his own room. You were frustrated at the lack of respect for your personal space. Seonghwa always had a tendency to do such things; back in college, more than once you’d wake up to him in your dorm with a cup of coffee in hand, somehow getting past security.

But you snapped that night, under a lot of work pressure and startled at finding a shape in your bed in the middle of the night. Waking Seonghwa up, you angrily asked him what he had been doing. Seonghwa slurred his words, said he was drunk and apologized. He sounded panicked and ashamed but that didn’t stop you from demanding your key back. You hadn’t talked to him for three days while he left you a ton of texts and messages apologizing and explaining himself. It was the longest you had gone without speaking to him.

Back in the present, you gingerly reach for the pair of underwear. Why would he take this? Your cheeks feel hot looking at it. Was he…doing something with this? Surely, that would be impossible. For a split second, your brain flashes a mental image of Seonghwa with his hand wrapped around the underwear as he – nope, no.

You drop it back into the box, opting for the bracelet instead. It’s a thin fake gold band with a tiny cubic zirconia diamond in it. You wore it over ten years ago, one night at the summer festival. Your boyfriend at the time just broke up with you and all you wanted to do was stay inside until Seonghwa prodded you to go with him. You wore the bracelet then, with a sun dress, trying to make an effort to look presentable. Seonghwa won a stuffed animal at one of the booths and gave it to you. You don’t remember misplacing the bracelet.

The house key winks knowingly at you.

You shut the box, shoving it hurriedly back in its spot as your heart threatened to explode in your chest. Your head is spinning, wondering what the hell to do. Do you confront him about it? That is what you’re supposed to do. But what do you even say?

You turn on the faucet, splashing cold water on your face while trying to gather your thoughts. Could it be that Seonghwa had some sort of crush on you? That is absurd. Keeping the bracelet would mean it has been a minimum of ten years he’s been pining for me. It could be longer. That’s enough to drive anyone mad.

In any case, you needed to get out of his apartment and try to calm yourself down. You had a tendency not to think very rationally when emotional and it would be better to put some space away from Seonghwa until you figured out how to broach the subject.

You open the bathroom slowly, trying to collect yourself and steady your breathing. When you enter the living room, Seonghwa is idly watching TV. He glances over at you and then frowns.

“What’s wrong?”

So much for looking casual.

“My boss texted me and there’s some crisis with another client. I need to pop back home and get on a Zoom meeting.” You don’t even know where the lie came from but it leaves your mouth smoothly.

Seonghwa sounds exasperated when he replies with, “You’re kidding.”

“No, sorry. You know how it is. Big girl job.”

“Yeah, fine, I get it.”

You are trying to get to the door without asking him what the fuck but he meets you there, his hand on the door knob. You force yourself to look at him directly – this face you know so well, this face you’ve stared at a thousand times. The same face that won you a stuffed animal at the festival ten years ago. Nothing has changed.

“I’ll message you later,” You say.

“Alright,” He opens the door, “Later.”

It closes behind your back, leaving you alone in the hallway. You stand there for a few moments.

You have no proof but there’s the sensation of Seonghwa looking through the peephole at you.

Not seeing your best friend for two days does nothing to help you figure out how to broach the subject of the tiny black box underneath his bathroom sink. By the time you see Seonghwa Sunday afternoon, the only idea you have is to avoid the discussion completely and opt to veer the conversation into you going on a date with someone.

The sun is lazily cutting across the floor of your living room while you pretend to be making coffee in the kitchen. Seonghwa is talking animatedly from the couch about something that happened the day before. You’re not really paying attention. Your mind keeps flashing to the night he fell asleep in your bed, picturing him rummaging through your underwear drawer to take a pair and slipping it into his pocket. You’re remembering the way he comforted you after getting dumped, convincing you to go to the festival. You can see him against the backdrop of the small white bulbs that were hanging off the booths, running his fingers through his hair while explaining with easy confidence how he could win a stuffed animal.

“Hey,” Seonghwa’s voice cuts through the memories and you blink, looking up from your place at the kitchen counter to see him standing in front of you, “Are you even listening to me?”

“I’m going on a date Tuesday night,” You blurt out without preamble, “With the client. The project that just finished.”

Seonghwa looks thrown before clearing his throat and replying, “Alright.”

But you keep going. “I think we have a real connection. It could turn into something.”

For the briefest moment, Seonghwa’s face goes startingly blank. There is nothing behind his eyes, and no expression on his face. Then he snaps back into focus, his hands pressing flat against the counter. “That’s good.”

You’re lying, of course, you doubt anything will come from this date. But if Seonghwa is harbouring some sort of intense crush on you, maybe showing him you’re into someone else will fix things. Knock the thoughts out of his head, redirect his focus to something else. Anything to get out of having a horrible discussion with him that could ruin the most solid friendship you’ve ever had in your entire life.

“Yeah, I can let you know how it goes,” You say a little too quickly, “Might be good for me. Like, I haven’t had a relationship in a couple of years. I feel ready for one now.”

Seonghwa pushes himself away from the counter, turning his back to you. “That’s great.” He plops back down on the couch. “Remind me again what I know about this guy.”

You decide to take this opportunity to really sell this man, to truly drive it home that this could be someone that you will be smitten with. You spend the next five minutes prattling on about him. At one point, you sit on the couch, on the opposite side of where Seonghwa is, still enthusiastically talking about a man you’ve barely thought of the entire time you worked with him.

Seonghwa’s face is slightly tilted with his arm propped up on the side of the couch, hand resting against his cheek. He’s looking at the wall, eyes distant. You’re trying to stay the course and see your speech through while at the same time studying his face for any sign that this onslaught of information is settling in. But there isn’t anything, not even a clenching of his jaw.

Running out of breath, you stop speaking and the room lapses into silence. Seonghwa stirs, turning his face in your direction. There it is once more – the same blank stare from earlier. Nothing behind his eyes, gone in a flash, replaced with the same Seonghwa you knew. You swallow hard, suddenly feeling a little off kilter. There is something unfamiliar in that blankness, something that is brand new ground in the relationship with your best friend.

“Well, you sound excited,” He says casually, “You’ll have to let me know how it goes.”

Your shoulders relax slightly. Are you overthinking everything? If Seonghwa was upset, you’d notice, right? You’ve seen him angry or annoyed a thousand times before. But the box still tugs at your sleeve. There’s a reason he has that. There is a reason he kept the underwear, the bracelet, the key. But the idea of asking your best friend why he has a box with such contents makes you want to jump off a cliff.

And Seonghwa is…comforting. Maybe it is selfish to think of him that way and to want nothing to change, especially if things are different at his end. But he’s been in your life for so long that the idea of him potentially not wanting to be around you anymore due to a crush forming makes your anxiety spike. He’s been there through everything…You can get stuff back on track. You can fix things without mentioning the box.

You’re sure of it.

Typically, the process of getting ready for a date is somewhat fun and enjoyable. You tend to overthink your outfit but other than that, you like listening to music, doing your makeup and wondering how the night will go.

This date doesn’t feel like that, mostly because the entire time you’re getting ready, your mind keeps going to Seonghwa.

You’ve been overanalyzing his behavior since your Oscar winning performance convincing him this date is important. It’s been a few days since your speech and he seems exactly the same. Maybe a little more reserved if you truly look at the small details. But that could be work related, you argue, maybe I need to stop being so self-absorbed and think that everything has to do with me.

But then you think back to the box with your underwear, bracelet and key. Any rational person would just talk to their best friend about it. Instead, you’re forcing yourself to go on this date in hopes of avoiding it because you’re being selfish, putting your feelings before his and wanting everything to remain normal.

Your phone suddenly rings, startling you out of your brooding. It’s your client – no, your date.

“Hello?”

“Hey, listen,” His voice comes out fast and urgent, “I am so sorry but I’m going to have to cancel.”

“What? Why?” It comes out way more demanding than intended but you had been banking on this…

“Some fucking psycho ruined my car! It’s all smashed up! Like, it’s completely fucking ruined!” The client’s voice pitches higher in anxiety and an undercurrent of fear.

You grip the phone tightly while exclaiming, “What?!”

“My tires are slashed, my windows are blown out! The doors have these deep gash marks in the side like some lunatic took a fucking axe to it! Even the insides are cut up…Christ, I gotta go, okay? I’m really sorry. We’ll reschedule, I promise.”

“No, of course, I understand. I’m so sorry. I can’t believe that happened,” You say in shock, “That’s horrible.”

“Thanks. Again, really sorry. I’ll call you, okay?”

The call ends as suddenly as it began. You stare at your phone for a few seconds, feeling a wave of sympathy for your client. It would be horrible to deal with your car getting messed up like that. But this meant the date was pushed back…

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you wondered what to do now. Normally when plans fell through, you’d hang out with Seonghwa. If he found out the date got cancelled and you didn’t come over, he could think you’re avoiding him. But showing up all dolled up for a date that had nothing to do with him could be rubbing his face in things too, couldn’t it?

“I’m so sick of overthinking,” You mumble, leaving your bathroom and trying to find a hoodie to tug over your outfit, yanking it on over your head, adjusting it a bit and then grabbing your bag, “I don’t care.”

You’re lying – you care more than you’d like to admit, both about Seonghwa and whatever is going on with his feelings towards you and the fact deep down you’re aware that you are handling this poorly.

A few minutes later, you’re knocking on the front door of Seonghwa’s apartment. While you do have a key to his place, you weren’t going to violate that boundary even though you knew he wouldn’t see it that way.

No one answers.

You knock again but this time you go, “Hey, Seonghwa?”

Now, you can hear shuffling inside the apartment followed by a muffled, “Just a second!”

The door opens a second later. Seonghwa has clearly just gotten out of the shower. His hair is still soaking wet, dripping onto his black t-shirt. He runs his hands through his hair, trying to smooth it out but all that does is send some water droplets flying to the floor.

“What, were you taking a swim?” You joke.

His eyes land on you. “Wasn’t expecting you to come by. I thought you had that date.”

“I did but he had to cancel,” You reply as Seonghwa moves to let you inside, “He called me and told me like…his car got fucked up.”

“His car got fucked up,” He deadpans, raising one eyebrow, “Are you sure he isn’t lying?”

You scoff. “Seriously? Who would lie about that? He told me someone slashed his tires, broke his windows, banged up the doors and shit. So, he needed to go deal with it. We’re gonna reschedule.”

Seonghwa runs one hand through his hair again, seemingly unbothered by how wet it is. Even his t-shirt is damp, clinging to his frame. He flexes his fingers on his right hand, an action that is unfamiliar to you. The muscles in his arms move. You’re staring and don’t know why. It’s like he was mid shower when he got out or something, you think.

“So, I’m the backup plan?” He asks and there’s a strange edge to the sentence, stripping it of any humor.

You blink, thrown by the tone. “No, I didn’t…”

But Seonghwa smiles then, and his voice is back to normal. “It’s cool. I wasn’t doing anything tonight. We can hang out. You wanna watch TV?”

You nod, trailing after him into the comfort of his living room. He goes into the kitchen, opening the fridge and leaning forward to try to find something to drink. His t-shirt lays flat across his back, his black hair curling against the nape of his neck, still dripping onto the tile. You stare at him for a few seconds before settling in on the couch. You’re suddenly acutely aware of the dress you’re wearing although most of it is covered up by the hoodie. He didn’t seem to notice your outfit or makeup anyway. Be serious. He’s seen you on dates a lot of times.

There is the sound of a beer opening as Seonghwa returns to the couch, tossing you a bottle of water as he plops down next to you. You glance at him out of the corner of your eyes as he takes a swig from the beer, his Adam’s apple bobbing while swallowing.

“Aren’t you afraid you’re going to ruin the couch with your hair dripping everywhere?”

He tilts his face in your direction and then rests his head directly on the back of the couch. You roll your eyes.

“Get a towel.”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“You’re just trying to annoy me now.”

“Yup.”

The exchange is so normal and familiar that you don’t even realize you’ve sunken onto the couch next to him as he flips through the channels. The two of you lapse into a comfortable silence, so comfortable that you forget the box stuffed away in Seonghwa’s bathroom for the first time since discovering it.

Apparently, he is comfortable too because at some point, you realize you’re hearing soft snoring. Surprised, you look over at him. He’s dozed off, eyes closed, chest rising and falling peacefully. His mouth is open slightly, head to the side, blissfully unaware of his wet hair. Seonghwa often kept odd hours and it wasn’t so strange for him to fall asleep as soon as he got even mildly relaxed.

Mixed emotions are mingling inside your chest – a concoction of anxiety, peacefulness, and a sense of impending doom. In this quiet moment, it is as though you’re standing on a beach watching a tsunami approach. You’ve been trying so hard to run from the change that swept in with discovering that tiny box underneath the bathroom sink.

You want to lean over and wake Seonghwa up, just ask him what is going on. But you still balk at the conversation and at tarnishing this moment where everything feels so normal.

You wonder if the box is still under the sink.

Maybe you imagined it.

With one last glance at Seonghwa, you get up. Even though you’re walking to the bathroom, you cannot shake the guilt feeling swooping over your chest. You glance over your shoulder. He’s still perfectly asleep.

Seonghwa’s bedroom door is next to the bathroom, slightly ajar. You glance inside out of habit. His bed is perfectly made with a couple of framed posters on the walls. There isn’t anything out of place but…

Maybe it’s the way the light from the hallway lays across the carpet or maybe you’re spending too long looking inside but before you completely pass by something shines for a split second. You slow down and then stop, hovering in the doorway to his room. Your heart is beating quickly now.

One final look in Seonghwa’s direction to ensure he’s sleeping sends you into his bedroom. Now who is breaking boundaries? A little voice in your head remarks cruelly. You cross the carpet towards what caught your eye – the glint of something similar to a knife. The bathroom towel has been quickly thrown over whatever it is.

Bending down, your fingers hover over the towel. Your entire body is screaming for you just to leave and get out of there. You’re snooping, you’re keeping secrets, you’re posturing as if Seonghwa has done something unforgiveable but meanwhile you’re not doing anything better –

You snatch the towel off the object and your heart falls into a pool of ice water.

An axe is laying on the floor. You stare at it while the hair on the back of your neck stands up. “The doors have these deep gash marks in the side like some lunatic took a fucking axe to it!” The words of your date ring in your head with deafening volume. You think about Seonghwa asking for information about the client and how you babbled endlessly in order to convince him this date was real. You knocked on the door and he hadn’t been ready for you, soaking wet, barely toweled off as if he had been busy…what, hiding the axe under the towel?

This is insane. Do you realize what your brain is jumping to? What are you trying to suggest? That Seonghwa went out to this guy’s place and ruined his car? Do you know what that implies? It implies he’s not just crushing on you. It implies there’s something…wrong. There’s something wrong with him. That’s what you’re thinking about your best friend right now.

The anxiety hits you full force in the chest then. You can hardly breathe, quickly covering up the axe and stumbling to your feet. You didn’t know what to do. You don’t even know what to say to him. The most important thing is getting out of here –

“What are you doing?”

You almost jump out of your skin, whirling around to see Seonghwa’s figure in the doorway. His face is half in shadow and one hand is on the door frame. You take a step back, almost tripping over the axe while straightening up.

“I thought you were sleeping,” You mumble and all efforts to make your voice sound normal fail.

“I woke up.” His voice is different, altered.

Seonghwa takes a step into the room and his face is clearer now. Yet there is that same look you have seen flashes of before. The complete emptiness of expression, the utter blankness behind his eyes. There is nothing familiar about him now.

“Now,” He says in a cold voice, “Who is the one breaking boundaries?”

You swallow hard while your brain fumbles for an excuse. But instead of speaking one, what leaves your mouth is, “Why do you have an axe?”

“Is it illegal to own one?”

“No but it’s a little strange to have it on your bedroom floor underneath a towel.” You try to make it come out like a lighthearted joke but your voice quivers, giving you away.

Seonghwa takes another step. In exchange, you back up, over the axe and closer to his night table. It seems ridiculous to be afraid of your best friend. But it also is ridiculous to have a secret box in the bathroom and an axe on the floor.

His right hand flexes and his jaw is clenched. You get the feeling he is trying to wrangle himself under control – but from what? He has all the qualities of the Seonghwa you know but it’s like someone smeared him with a layer of paint and distorted him.

You try again. “Why do you have the axe, Seonghwa?”

He doesn’t answer. Just moves closer. You’re cornered now. He’s near enough to touch, to grab his shirt and demand he answer you – this man you don��t know, this man you’re realizing you might not know at all.

“Why are you in my room?” Seonghwa makes a small noise, a tsk tsk, before adding, “Gonna have to ask for my key back, I think. Didn’t we just discuss boundaries?”

Up this close, you can better see the blankness in his eyes. You can smell the familiar scent of his shampoo and body wash. Your mind is telling you to run but your heart is whispering that this is your best friend, just hug him and talk it out. You don’t know what to do.

You say Seonghwa’s name so softly, just a wisp of a thing against the boiling emotions that are brimming to the surface inside him. “Why do you have some of my things under your bathroom sink?”

Seonghwa recoils, eyes widening in surprise. Your brain tells you to push past him, take this chance and run. But your feet don’t listen. Even now, you want to hear him out. You’re desperate to prove this all some fucked up misunderstanding.

You keep going. “That bracelet. From the night of the festival. And my….my underwear. Why do you have those things? My date calls me, says his car got trashed and that it looks like an axe was taken to the sides and then you’re scurrying around when I knock, hide an axe under a towel. Where were you earlier? Seonghwa, where were you earlier? Why do you have those things? Tell me. If you don’t want me to walk out of here, tell me. If you don’t want to fuck up the friendship, tell me.”

He tilts his face away from you, eyes glassy, looking at nothing. He’s grinding his teeth, something else you’ve never seen him do. Seonghwa’s profile is striking but no longer comforting. When he looks back at you, your lower back nudges into the night table and your hands grip the edge, staring at him.

“I want to fuck up the friendship. I’ve always wanted to fuck up the friendship,” He declares.

You shake your head. “You don’t mean that. That’s not how things are with us –”

“That’s always been how things are with us!” He shouts suddenly, loud enough to make you flinch.

“No! No, Seonghwa, that isn’t true –”

“Don’t fucking lie to me!” His eyes are alive now, twisted, no longer blank but not belonging to him either. He’s so close to you now, dangerously so. The warmth of his body is seeping into yours. The rage is swimming off him, strong enough to knock you over. You have never seen Seonghwa so angry before…and certainly never at you.

“I’m not, I’m not lying,” You plead, wanting to touch him but too afraid of making things worse, “I’m not lying. I was just – I was just trying to understand. The box under the sink and the axe…”

“You’re a smart girl, stop pretending like you don’t know,” Seonghwa growls out, “You know why I have those things under the sink.”

“The bracelet –”

Seonghwa is bristling with an intense energy as he replies, “From the festival night! See, you remember. You knew immediately where it was from. It slipped off your wrist when you were at one of the games, landed in the dirt. I took it. I took it because that was the night I thought ‘maybe’. I thought maybe you’d realize how badly I wanted you. And I think you did realize it. But you looked the other way. I love you but fucking hell, you look the other way when anything might change. But I’m patient. I can wait. I can take care of things and I can wait.”

I love you he had said, so effortlessly, so easily. The air is knocked out of your lungs by his casual admission. Seonghwa doesn’t seem to notice nor care he said it. He just stated it as though it was a fact, like the sun rising every morning. He runs his fingers through his hair, his brow furrowed in memories.

“The underwear, do I gotta explain that? Like I said, you’re smart. You know. I didn’t think you were coming home that night. I thought you were out, picked up by a guy or something. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I had shoved the underwear in my pocket before you got there and it just felt so damn good to be in your bed. Everything smelled like you and just…it was just a lot, you know?” His eyes land on you. “It was wrong to lie, tell you I was drunk. It was the fastest thing I could think of.”

“You lied to me?”

“I’m sorry,” Seonghwa says seriously and you realize he believes lying about being drunk was the worst thing he did that night, not using your key or stealing your underwear.

“You’re – you’re sorry? You violated my boundaries, you slept in my bed, you stole my…and then you lied to me,” You reply aghast, “It’s like I don’t even know you, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa is starting to look anguished now. He goes to reach for you, thinks twice and drops his hands to his sides before taking a step back, carefully skirting around the axe. Then he stops, considering it before picking it up and tossing it onto the bed, making you flinch again.

“Don’t act like that,” Seonghwa says sternly, pointing to you, “Don’t do that. It’s me, alright? It’s me. You’ve known me since we were kids. I’m still the same person.”

You swallow hard, unable to reply.

He continues to talk, pacing the room. “Listen, for how long I’ve been in love with you, I think – I think I’m doing alright. I’ve never done anything bad to you. I have always had your back. That one asshole back in college – that professor. The science one. Remember? I made sure to stop that shit before it got out of hand. He was out of bounds asking you out. That’s wrong. You’re a – you’re a student.”

The floor is unsteady underneath your feet. You’re staring at Seonghwa as he paces, wondering if you’re going to faint. “That was you? He couldn’t even come back to work after that. He needed physical therapy. His legs…”

“Okay, in my defense,” He holds out one hand to ward off your criticism, “In my defense, I didn’t realize until later I maybe shouldn’t have brought the bat down so hard.”

Your eyes fall to the axe. You’re almost afraid to ask.

But Seonghwa follows your gaze and he immediately makes a noise of protest. “I didn’t lay a hand on that guy.”

“But…but his car…”

“So what? It’s a car. Which he thought was more important than you seeing that he cancelled the date, by the way,” He is talking so quickly that it is hard to follow his words, “You gave me so much information about him and this idiot – I mean, he’s a real idiot, alright? He had so much public information about himself. I found his address in like, two minutes. I mean, this is not the sort of guy you want to be with. He’s too stupid for you.”

You’re feeling dazed now like you got hit with the axe instead of the client’s car. “How did you not get caught?”

“He doesn’t live in the city. Lives in the suburbs, some big fancy ugly house with a private garage. Slipped in, slipped out.” A thought strikes him and Seonghwa moves towards you, holding his hands out to calm you down as if you’re a scared deer. “But I didn’t hurt him. I wasn’t going to hurt him. You seemed to really like the moron. I just wanted to see how badly he wanted to go on a date with you. If his material items were more important than seeing you.”

Thunderstruck, you reply, “Seonghwa, you trashed his fucking car.”

He scurries over, extremely close to you once again. He looks so warm and inviting again, earnest as ever as he goes, “And he picked it over you. He isn’t a good fit for you. Not like me. You get it? Not like me.”

You can only stare at him, unable to reply. Too much is happening. There is too much new information occurring at once. And the way Seonghwa is standing there, looking so open and honest – the polar opposite of earlier when he came into the bedroom, is making things confusing.

Seonghwa tilts his head to the side, his voice a soft murmur while studying your face. “Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve protected you from is because I love you. I’ve always loved you. The entire reason I exist is to love you. I’d follow you to the end of the earth. I’d follow you into hell. Some part of you had to know that. You felt it, didn’t you?”

Your breathing is quick and shallow. You’re grateful for the barrier of the hoodie because you’re acutely aware of how close you are to your best friend. You’re thinking about him moving to the city, and then into your building. You’re thinking of all the various strange occurrences you tried to steadfastly ignore – people getting injured after upsetting you, job interviews that felt horrible only for them to offer you a position, Seonghwa up all hours of the night on his computer looking exhausted and claiming it was just work, the beleaguered quick expression on his face whenever you mentioned him going on a date…

Seonghwa makes a small noise in the back of his throat. “You’re scared. It’s okay. You never liked change and you were never good with your feelings.”

You squeeze your eyes closed while saying, “I thought you’d think I was smitten with him. That you’d…you’d drop this. And we could go back to normal. I didn’t think you’d…”

“Go back to normal?” He scoffs, “What is normal for you? Ignoring what is right in front of you?” Very slowly and carefully, he brings the back of his hand to your cheek, gently brushing it along your skin. The touch makes your heart thud violently in your chest. Seonghwa looks at you tenderly. “I would be so good to you. I’m a perfect fit for you.”

“Seonghwa…” You aren’t sure if his name is a curse, a prayer or just a whimpered plea to let things stay the same.

He is close enough to your body now that you know what is going to happen next. You should push him away, get out of here and call the police on him.

But you don’t.

Instead, you allow Seonghwa to kiss you.

Your mouth opens underneath his, tasting your best friend in a way that is entirely new. The sensation of his lips on yours is dizzying in the most twisted way possible. Seonghwa’s hand goes to the back of your neck as the kiss grows more intense. His tongue is in your mouth and he makes a tiny noise – like some small bit of him is finally finding relief. You aren’t even sure if you’re breathing, too swept up by the mind-bending things that have occurred in the last ten minutes. As the kiss deepens, you tilt your head to the side, your tongue against his now.

There is a small voice in the back of your head quietly asking you what the fuck are you doing? Not only is this Seonghwa of all people but he’s obviously mentally unstable. But there is a heat swooping through your body and there is a need cracking through something inside you that is made worse by the fact you’re thinking about how he’s always had your back since first meeting.

Your hand is gripping the bottom of his t-shirt. You aren’t sure whose ragged breathing you’re hearing but certainly it cannot be yours because you must’ve died ten minutes ago. That’s the only logical explanation for why you’re now desperately kissing Seonghwa; it just simply couldn’t be happening like this.

The heat is unspooling in your chest now, dropping to your thighs. Seonghwa makes another quiet noise while kissing you, so fragile yet tense, and it is in that noise that the desire and fear smash together and overwhelm you.

You push him away with a small gasp, wiggling free from the confined space and placing your hand against the wall to steady yourself.

“I can’t,” You gasp out – although is directed to you or your best friend?

Looking over your shoulder at Seonghwa, he’s staring at you with blown out pupils while his chest rises and falls rapidly.

“You can’t what?” He drawls coldly, “You can’t what?”

You shake your head while saying, “I should be calling the police on you. You’ve hurt people. You’ve damaged people’s property.”

“Oh, please!” His mood shifts quickly again, his tone hostile. He approaches you, so close again, enough to see that his lips are slightly wet from the kissing. “Stop pretending. Stop pretending you don’t feel it.”

But it’s too much – all of it. You shake your head, afraid of…of what? Seonghwa? No, something else. Something worse.

You’re afraid of yourself.

“I can’t – I have to go,” You say, pushing past him, “I can’t do this.”

In all your years of friendship with him, you’ve never run out of his apartment. There has never been any reason to. But you leave Seonghwa in his bedroom with the axe on the bed, quickly scampering down the hallway. You cast a glance over your shoulder to see if he is following.

But he isn’t.

And you’re not sure how you feel.

There is no sleep that night, only replaying the entirety of your friendship with Seonghwa like a horrible movie in your mind. You try picturing him taking the bat to that teacher’s legs but it is an impossible thing to imagine. You wonder what else he’s done. He’s been off, slinking around in the night, breaking into your apartment, sleeping in your sheets.

You roll onto your side, staring at the edge of your bed. What is Seonghwa doing right now? Is he thinking of you? Most likely, since it has become clear that all he thinks about is you. He isn’t a good fit for you. Not like me. You get it? Not like me. His confession bangs around in your brain, refusing to give you any peace.

You’re back at the festival, watching him win you the stuffed animal. Seonghwa’s head is cocked to the side as he thrusts the stuffed animal towards you, grinning. You try to refuse it at first but he shakes his head, saying he has no use for it. His hair is softly glowing against the lights. His fingers brush against your wrist while accepting the gift. You feel a sense of contentment knowing you’re here with him and not crying in your room alone.

What happened the next day? Your ex’s dorm room goes up in flames due to an unattended candle left burning. You remember laughing about karma with Seonghwa.

But it wasn’t karma.

Unless Seonghwa is your karma.

Your brain circles to the one thing you’ve been trying the most not to think about: the kiss. It is something you’ve never ever considered. Kissing Seonghwa had always been something firmly planted in the realm of impossibility. Anyone of sound mind would have called the police on him, and what did you do? You kissed him.

And even worse, something that you can only admit in the dead of night when the world is still and quiet: you liked it. You enjoyed the small noises of relief Seonghwa made, how hot his body temperature ran, how his t-shirt was gripped in your hand. You enjoyed his desperation. You enjoyed his dedication.

What the fuck did that say about you?

You’ve never gone this long without hearing from Seonghwa. It’s been four days and you keep expecting him to show up. You think he might even be waiting in your apartment every time you come home from work. You almost wish he was. But he isn’t. His silence is throwing you off.

Maybe Seonghwa is going to skip town, you think in the silence of your bedroom one night. He might think I’m going to turn him in and he’s trying to get ahead of it. The idea of Seonghwa vanishing is eating you up inside. You just want to talk to him.

But now you feel like the stalker, taking the elevator one floor down to his place with his apartment key in your hand. Even if Seonghwa ignores me, I’m gonna go inside, you think, if he can do it to me, I can do it to him. I just want to talk to him. Your mind is flickering to the kiss. You’re thinking about staying up late with him watching movies over the years. You’re remembering how he stopped going to the coffee shop where that woman was interested in him. You can taste him in your mouth.

At the front door of his apartment, you knock. Softly at first. No reply. You knock again. You stand there, debating what to do. The key is heavy in your hand.

What Seonghwa has done is wrong. It’s not just illegal, it’s fucked up.

But no one in your life has ever looked out for you in the way he did and continues to do.

His hair, wet, dripping onto the tile in the kitchen. His right hand flexing. The blank look in his eyes. The axe on the bed.

Still no answer.

The key is heavy in the lock, and the tumblers sound like gunshots as you turn it. Quietly, you push open the door and creep inside Seonghwa’s apartment. There aren’t any lights on. Silence settles across the place like a blanket. You shut the door softly, wondering why you’re doing this.

But still, you continue, creeping down the hallway towards his bedroom. The door is open and moonlight filters in through his bedroom window, leaving a small band of white along the hallway floor. You hover outside Seonghwa’s room before pushing the door open wider to allow yourself in.

He’s sprawled out on the bed, asleep. You stand next to it, looking at the way the moonlight lays across his face. His black hair is messy, lips parted slightly as his breathing goes slow and deep. Some logical part of you knows it is bizarre to be watching your best friend sleep like this after using his key. You’re not any better than he is when you act like this, it scolds you.

But you study Seonghwa’s face. The moonlight washes his skin out. His bone structure is so familiar to you but tonight, you’re thinking that once again he looks like someone scrambled his face up with a large brush and showed you it.

You raise your hand to reach for his shoulder. You’re going to wake him up. To ask him…what? You’re not sure. You just want to talk to him.

But before you can touch him, Seonghwa’s hand reaches out in a flash and grabs your wrist, his eyes startingly empty. You gasp in surprise and almost fall back but he is holding onto you too tightly.

“You’re creeping around my place again. I might start getting the wrong idea,” Seonghwa’s voice sounds taunting, almost venomous, “I might start thinking you want to fuck me.”

You’ve never heard him speak like that.

“I wanted to talk,” You reply but the words sound so absurd given you used his key and were watching him sleep.

“No, you didn’t,” He retorts.

No, you didn’t.

Seonghwa pulls you down and you kiss him again, open mouthed and desperate. You gasp from the force of his lips on yours as though he wants to devour you. He’s half sitting up, his hand on the back of your neck, and you’re getting in his lap now, straddling him as his tongue slips into your mouth. He bites down on your bottom lip, tugging it with his teeth until you make a noise and the kiss breaks.

His hands are cupping your cheeks. Seonghwa is looking at you almost deliriously. You hadn’t changed before coming over, just wearing a thin pair of sweatpants which means you can feel him stiff in his own pair, rock hard already, pressing against your thigh.

It’s you who speaks first.

“Why didn’t you talk to me the last few days?” It sounds almost plaintive.

He’s studying your face as his thumbs graze your cheeks. “I was waiting for you to either turn me in or come see me. Whatever ended up happening, I knew what it would mean.”

Breathlessly, you reply, “I wasn’t going to call the cops.”

His thumb is running over your lips. Seonghwa is looking at you mesmerized as if he has never seen something so wonderful as you in his lap. No one has ever looked at you in this way.

“Everything I did, I did because I love you,” His voice sounds like a raw wound, “Do you get that now?”

“I get it now,” You reply, knowing it’s wrong, knowing it’s fucked up, knowing you must have lost it.

His grip on your chin tightens ever so slightly as his eyes grow intense. “I was looking out for you from the moment we first met. I have always protected you. I’ve always made sure no one would harm you and if they did, I ensured they got what was coming to them. You deserve the best. You always have,” His voice is hurried, emotional, “I always have tried to give you the best because I love you.” His fingers dig into your skin. “Do you get that? Do you understand how much I love you? God, sometimes, you would look right through me and it felt like the entire world was ending. Like the ground was just shattering underneath my feet. But I never dreamt of leaving your side. I love you too much even if you didn’t feel the same. I told myself I would just protect you until I died.”

His voice is pure agony, a crackling and fizzling of the years that have gone by spilling out from in between his lips. “You looked at me with such fear the other day when you were in my room, staring at the axe. As if…as if I would ever hurt you. It’s so absurd. I would never do anything to you. Everything I do is because I love you.”

“Seonghwa,” You breathe out shakily, “Your hand…. it’s too tight…”

His eyes drop to the way he’s gripping your face and he releases his hand immediately, apologizing. Your head is swimming, torn between the logical mind telling you to leave and your irrational heart pulled by his words, his love, his promises and protection.

But he feels so good underneath you.

Your lips find his once more and whatever remains of Seonghwa’s speech dies in his mouth, lost in the groan he emits when you touch him again. He shifts slightly so that his leg is pressing against your pussy and you react by grinding down slightly on his knee, just enough to feel pressure against your clit. Your breath hitches as Seonghwa’s hands roam across your body – fondling your tits through your shirt, down across your hips before resting on your waist, pushing you down on his knee.

He’s kissing and biting your neck, hard enough to leave marks. Your hands are in his hair while you grind on his knee. At one point, he bites so hard that you gasp and you swear that he chuckles quietly. Seonghwa pulls away, looking at you with an expression of mingled lust and something more possessive.

“You’ll have to cover that up for your date.” His words are like stone but there is a flicker of toying amusement behind his eyes.

“What date?” You mumble, slightly dazed, too turned on by the way he’s touching you.

Seonghwa laughs, his teeth like daggers in the flash of moonlight before pulling you towards him. His kiss is greedy, one hand sliding under your t-shirt to cup your breast. You’re not wearing a bra, having come over here quickly without putting much thought into it. You can feel him smirk against your lips, as if the lack of one is telling him something you’re not privy to.

He pinches one of your nipples, making you jump. His other hand is on your lower back, steadying you on his knee as you continue to chase your orgasm. It’s evident Seonghwa isn’t going to try to stop you. He leans his head down, tugging your shirt up so that he can wrap his lips around your nipple, sucking on it hard. He switches to the other one, biting on it. You’re making soft noises, a cross between a plea and pleasure, dimly aware that to be doing this with Seonghwa means forever ruining the very friendship you were once so keen on saving. But maybe it never stood a chance. Maybe time just caught up with the dynamic.

When Seonghwa pulls away from your tits, he grabs the back of your head, forcing you to look at him while demanding, “I want to watch you cum. I want to see what you look like when you’re cumming. I’ve pictured it so many times in my head – no, don’t stop. Don’t slow down. There, good girl. Oh, do you like that? When I call you that? Is that gonna make you cum?”

You manage to nod even though his hold on you is tight. He looks different in the moonlight, different in the manner he’s openly staring at you without hiding his feelings. There’s an energy rolling off him that you’ve never felt before, something bubbling to the surface and spilling out – who he really is. Who he hid for so long. You feel like a small bug crawling into a Venus fly trap but you don’t want to turn away.

Your orgasm starts then, after Seonghwa calls you good girl in that voice of his that is dripping honey while hiding a dagger. You can’t believe that you just got off from grinding on your best friend’s knee but you barely have time to come down from the climax before he is slipping your shirt off over your head and tossing it to the side.

He’s groping your tits, rolling his thumbs across your nipples, in seemingly no hurry to fuck you. You thought the orgasm would bring clarity, give your mind release from the problematic thoughts you’ve been having about your messed up best friend and allow yourself to exit the situation.

But you feel no such thing. Instead, you find yourself removing his shirt as well before kissing him hungrily while your hands press against his chest. His arms wrap around your waist and in one swift motion, he has you against the pillows underneath him.

Seonghwa is hot to the touch, his skin almost feverish as your fingers trail down his shoulders and along his arms. He’s moving downwards, his tongue across your nipples, down your stomach, obscenely leaving a trail of his salvia until he reaches your sweatpants.

Hooking his thumbs into the band, he yanks them down, leaving you in just your underwear. He nudges your thighs apart, pressing one finger along your pussy.

“You’re soaking wet,” Seonghwa drawls, sounding both pleased and tormented, “Underwear is fucking glued to your pussy.”

There is something fucked up and thrilling hearing your best friend talk like this. Seonghwa has always been so nice, so thoughtful over the years. Even when he would discuss his dates, he never dove into any details that would come off disrespectful. But now, mask off, it’s evident he’s perverted and unhinged on top of being psychotic. So why do I like it so much?

Seonghwa abruptly grabs the sides of your underwear and rips it with his hands. There is a loud tearing of fabric, his eyes alight while doing so, and then you’re exposed to him. Instinctively, you squirm, trying to close your legs. But Seonghwa is faster and his hands are on your thighs, keeping you open in front of him. His eyes look upwards to meet yours.

“No, I want to see how wet your pussy is from me. No hiding now. I’ve daydreamed about tasting your sweet cunt for far too long.” He turns his gaze back downward, one finger against your wet slit. “God, look at how fucking good you look,” The desperation in his voice is obvious, “What a perfect pussy.”

Seonghwa leans forward and his tongue is in your hole with a pornographic slurping noise as he tastes you for the first time. His nose bumps against your clit as he buries his face in between your thighs, trying to get his tongue as far as possible inside you.

“Fuck,” His words are muffled, “You taste so fucking good. You taste exactly how I knew you would. Can’t believe it took this long to taste your sweet cunt,” His hold on your thighs tightens, “Drives me fucking crazy knowing others had it before me. They didn’t deserve it.”

His tongue drags along your folds until he places a kiss on your clit, just enough to make you shiver. You know that you shouldn’t look down. It will make the entire situation feel entirely too real. But you don’t listen and instead prop yourself on your elbows slightly, just enough to look down at Seonghwa in between your legs.

His eyes catch yours and he lewdly flicks his tongue across your clit just to drive the point home that this is happening and you’re enjoying it. You sharply inhale, your hand grabbing onto the bedsheet. He closes his eyes, focusing on rolling his tongue over your clit slowly, just enough to drive you crazy. You cannot tear your gaze away from Seonghwa of all people doing this to you, making you feel this good. In the moonlight, his shoulders almost glow, and some of his hair has fallen in front of his eyes.

While Seonghwa is working your clit, he slips one finger inside your hole, meeting no resistance from how wet it is. You squirm, head rolling back a little from the new sensation. Still, he doesn’t miss a beat, continuing his soft licks on your clit while pumping his finger. Your eyes flutter closed. It had been a long time since someone ate your pussy this good. It is just fucked up that it’s your best friend.

Seonghwa pulls his finger out of you, eliciting a whine that would be embarrassing in any other case but he quietly shushes you. “Needy girl, you want my tongue back on your clit? Look at me when I’m speaking to you.”

You look down at him, your cheeks warm. His eyes are devious, a smirk on his face, making his cheeks stand out more than usual as he shakes his head to get his hair out of his face.

You nod and he looks gravely serious. “No, tell me. I want to hear you tell me.” His voice is ice cold, allowing no argument. You’ve seen him this way a few times, always when he is angry and never at you. No, always at someone who did something mean to you though, the little voice whispers.

“I want your tongue back on my clit,” You say meekly because begging Seonghwa for such a thing is a foreign concept.

He stares at you for a second or two longer before suddenly spitting on your clit and smearing it in with his thumb. Your hips buck automatically from the sudden pleasure.

“You’re so sensitive,” He murmurs, “Gonna be so easy to make you cum again.” Seonghwa sounds lost in his daydreams and you cannot fathom how many times he’s thought about this.

His finger is back in your cunt and his tongue is flicking across your clit faster now. He adds a second digit, pumping them hard and fast, stopping occasionally to wiggle them deep inside you. His face is pressed against your pussy, sucking on your clit and sometimes stopping just to spit on it again. Seonghwa is groaning when he’s eating you out, as if he is driven to intoxication from the taste of you.

You can no longer prop yourself up on your elbows, instead sinking back down among the pillows. One of your hands reaches down for Seonghwa, his hair wrapping around your fingers as you desperately hold onto him so he doesn’t stop. He makes a noise of approval, fucking you harder with his fingers.

And it feels just too good and it feels even worse because it’s Seonghwa, the person you know the most and the person you don’t know at all. When your climax starts, his name leaves your lips broken and shattered, forever changed by what happened tonight.

When Seonghwa pulls away, his eyes are ablaze. You’re disoriented from cumming so hard two times already but he pulls you towards him. His lips crush yours in a sloppy kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue. When the kiss breaks, there’s a long strand of spit connecting the two of you. He’s holding the back of your neck again, looking at you as though you’re trapped in his web.

“Oh, my name sounds so good like that.” He rubs his thumb across your lips, and the spit makes a mess, “You’re such a pretty thing.”

You like the way Seonghwa talks to you as if you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. But you suppose to him, you are. You’re feeling an aching desire to have him inside you, to know what it would be like to be fucked by him. Tentatively, you reach for his groin, pressing your hand against the tent. He inhales sharply but gives a firm shake of his head.

“Not yet,” He brushes your hand away, “You’re going to cum again.”

Surprised, you open your mouth to say something but before you can, he places two fingers on your tongue. Without questioning it, you wrap your lips around them and then immediately wonder why you didn’t even hesitate. You swirl your tongue around his fingers while he watches, entranced at the sight.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty. I can’t get enough of you. Now, sit on my face.”

Seonghwa pulls his fingers out of your mouth, snapping his fingers at you after he issued his command. You’re not even thinking anymore, lost completely to whatever pull you feel towards him and the promises of more pleasure. He’s on his back, motioning for you to hurry up. You try to carefully straddle his face but he makes a noise of impatience, reaching upwards to grab your hips and yanking you down so that your pussy is against his face.

His tongue dives into your hole and you make a noise of surprise, gripping the headboard of his bed. He’s eating your pussy like a man starved, not stopping to let you adjust at all. His hands are holding onto your hips, keeping you in place as he brings his tongue swooping up to your clit, swirling around it. This time is a lot more urgent as though it is more for him than you.

The sounds of Seonghwa eating your pussy sounds graphic but it is the way he is moaning while doing it that is turning you on. You like how he sounds, so desperate and his voice muffled, and when you move your hips gently against his face, he makes a noise to let you know to keep going.

So you do, grinding against his face. He moves his tongue back to your hole and you can feel his nose against your clit while rocking your hips. Your clit is growing sensitive from all the overstimulation and sometimes your hips bounce a little when it becomes too much. Seonghwa notices this and instead of giving you a break swoops his tongue back over your clit, flicking it hard and fast.

Your grip tightens on the headboard but you’re close to cumming again. Your thighs are shaking, panting with your tongue poking from in between your lips as you ride his face. With one last flick of his tongue, you moan out his name loudly, unable to stop from how much you’re working your pussy against his face. This orgasm is somehow even better than the earlier ones although it leaves your body shaking. You slide off him, falling onto the bed, trying to catch your breath.

Seonghwa sits up, kicking off his sweatpants. With relief, you realize he’s going to fuck you. You’re unsure that you could handle another orgasm again so soon after the others. Your head is dazed and thighs sore and you’re pretty sure that your pussy is a mess of your juices and Seonghwa’s spit.

He’s stroking his length, drinking in the sight of your naked body on his bed with the same fascination of someone viewing a beautiful painting. He shakes his hair out of his face again while getting to his knees, his hand still wrapped around his cock.

“You’re gonna cum around my cock next.”

You give a small shake of your head, out of breath. “I don’t think I can cum anymore.”

“Of course you can,” Seonghwa replies simply while positioning himself over your body.

His skin against yours is heavenly and hellish, weighted by the knowledge you’re tumbling into bed with your best friend who isn’t as stable as previously believed. But what does it say about you that it won’t leave your mind? He’s propped up over you, studying your face with such intensity that you break eye contact, feeling exposed. His cock is pressing at your entrance as your hands go to his sides, gingerly touching his hot skin.

Seonghwa lowers his face down to kiss you while sliding inside your wet entrance. You arch your back, fingers digging into his waist as he enters you easily. His lips are back on your neck, emitting a sigh that is a mingle of relief and tension all at once.

His words are muffled as he goes, “You feel so good. Your pussy is made for me. I was meant to be in this pussy every night.”

Seonghwa is curled around you, taking his time. He’s moving slowly, lost in the sensation of your walls tightening around his cock. Your hands glide upwards to his hair once again, bunching it in between your fingers as you wrap your legs around his waist.

When Seonghwa speaks again, he sounds lost, as if he isn’t even present in the moment. “I love you so much,” He grunts, going still for a second to collect himself before thrusting a little harder, “I love you so fucking much. I’d do anything for you, I’d do anything to be in your cunt like this. You just had to ask. But you never did.”

Your body is warm all over, each nerve in your body responding to his passion in a way that you didn’t think was possible. The voice in your head that has been pointing out how wrong it’s been all night is eerily silent. Instead, you tilt your head so that Seonghwa looks at you. Your foreheads are touching and when you speak, your lips graze his.

“Tell me what you’d do for me,” You plead softly.

His breath catches, his cock buried inside you to the hilt while he replies, “Anything. You know that. You already know some of what I’ve done. And I don’t regret any of it. I’d do it again,” He starts moving his hips faster now, plunging his length in and out of your soaking wet hole while his breathing grows laboured, “I’d do anything for you.”

The words make your head light. You’re moving your hips in time to his thrusts, tugging on his hair to let him know to keep going. Hearing your best friend make noises of pleasure, noises you’re not supposed to hear from him, is making you only desire more.

Seonghwa shifts positions, just enough so that your legs are bent back so he can hit your sweet spot with every jerk of his hips. Your hands fall to the bedsheets once more, digging into them as he fucks you.

“You look so fucking beautiful taking my cock,” He grunts and runs his hand through his hair quickly with one hand to get it out of his eyes.

The gesture, so familiar, one you’ve seen him do often, strikes you in the chest. His desperation is evident in his eyes, in his voice, in every action he’s taken since he grabbed your wrist earlier. This is still your best friend, the realization dawning, this is still Seonghwa.

You’re just seeing all aspects of him now.

You aren’t sure what compels you to reach for his hand but you do, sliding it up to your neck. His eyes light up at what you’re requesting, that shark’s grin returning so quickly that it sends a shiver down your spine. His hand tightens around your neck while he fucks you. The muscles on his arm tightens; he pushes you back against the pillows while fucking you hard and fast.

“I’d do anything for you,” He repeats, voice breaking, “I’d have done anything you ever wanted if you just asked.” The pleasure is overtaking him and his mind is wandering, jumping from topic to topic, telling you all the things he’s ever thought about. “Fuck, my hand around your neck…” He grips you harder and you make a small noise which only drives his cock harder in your hole. “You look like a ragdoll taking my dick with your lips parted like that. I watched you through your window last week. You looked so tired. I thought – fuck, I thought about my hands around your neck, choking you while I fucked you into oblivion so you could sleep.”

I watched you through your window last week.

The angle and his hand on your neck is bringing you to another climax which you didn’t think could be possible. You can barely breathe, can barely move your hips to meet his thrusts. You’re so close to finishing, watching how Seonghwa’s eyes never leave your face, how intensely he is staring at you, no expression on his face as he fucks you.

With the little air you have left, you ask the question again. “Tell me what you’d do for me.” The words are so soft that you aren’t sure anyone else but Seonghwa could have heard them – he’s just too in tune with you.

“I’d fucking kill for you.”

And you’re cumming on his cock then. Seonghwa releases his grip on your neck so he can hear your hoarse moans. He hasn’t stopped fucking you, moving his hips the entire time you’re orgasming. You keep saying his name, your hips moving to meet his thrusts, making more noise than you ever have before.

Seonghwa pulls out, wiping the sweat from his brow before leaning forward, grabbing your face and going, “Open your mouth.” You do immediately and he spits in your mouth lewdly before kissing you hungrily. When it ends, he says roughly, “I’m gonna cum in your cunt now. Get on your knees.”

Your body protests a little while doing so, tired and sore from cumming so much and being fucked so hard. But once your ass is in the air, Seonghwa’s hands are on your hips, pulling you back onto his cock. He doesn’t waste any time and you know he must be dying to finish. You’re not used to someone putting their pleasure last like this.

The change in angle feels so good and you moan, prompting Seonghwa to go, “You’re cock starved, I love it. I love hearing you want more of me.” His hands slide to your lower back. “I love hearing you want me and none of those idiots you’ve wasted time on. All those fucking idiots. Made me sick.” He’s slamming his hips against your ass, his balls smacking against your pussy with each hurried thrust. “Makes me fucking sick to think of them touching you instead of me. They never deserved you. They never understood you, not like I did.”

You’re sinking into the bed, the weight of his hands on your lower back giving you no choice, your ass high in the air now as Seonghwa fucks you mercilessly. His voice is slurring at the edges, his words hazy like small things being tugged towards the light for the first time.

“I knew they couldn’t fuck you like I could or take care of you like I could. Just idiots, circling around you and I tried so hard to be nice. I wanted to be nice to those idiots because of you. Everything I do is because of you because I love you so much. F-fuck,” He does a particularly hard thrust and groans, “I wasn’t perfect. I knew I was doing bad things. Getting them fired from jobs. Snooping through their emails. Slashing their tires. I knew –” His breath caught, and his hands move to your ass, gripping it hard enough to leave marks. “I knew it was wrong but I couldn’t help myself. I was in love with you for so long and sometimes it’s enough to drive a man crazy.”

Seonghwa is fucking you so hard that you can’t even move. You lay against the bed, taking his cock, your eyes almost rolling into the back of your head from how it good it is. You couldn’t speak even if you wanted to. The way he’s fucking you combined with his speech is making your head utterly blank – it just feels so good. All of it feels so good. You think your tongue might be poking out from between your lips. All you know is he’s going to make you finish again.

“I’m gonna fuck you like this every night, I’m gonna – fuck. I’m gonna take care of you and I’m going to fuck you and no one is ever going to bother you again because you’re mine now. Tell me you’re mine, I want to hear you tell me.”

Using the last of your energy, you moan out, “I’m yours, I belong to you, I’m yours.”

Seonghwa grunts, giving one last thrust while going, “Now take my load in that sweet cunt of yours.”

His cum is warm in your cunt as he empties his balls, filling you up until it��s leaking out of your hole. You’re finishing again as well, perfectly in sync with your best friend. You’ve fallen on the bed, making an unholy amount of noise from the intense orgasm, completely overstimulated. Seonghwa has pulled out of your cunt, leaving a long strand of cum along your lower back as he finishes.

Your eyes are closed, feeling completely fucked out. Your tongue is heavy in your mouth; you couldn’t speak even if you wanted to. Seonghwa shifts behind you, sliding off the bed, leaving the room. A few moments later, he returns and you can feel a towel along your back, cleaning you up before he shifts, sliding closer to your body.

Seonghwa’s arms carefully wrap around you, pulling your body towards him. You curl up against his chest, eyes closing. He’s kissing the top of your head, his fingers trailing along your back in gentle touches. All his earlier energy is gone, depleted, and now he is soft and inviting.

You tilt your face to look at Seonghwa, reaching upwards to graze his jawline with your fingertips. He kisses them too. Would it be so wrong to have everything with him? To be so adored and loved with someone who has known you forever? His eyes are cutting through your defenses, nuzzling into the soft spot of your brain that should know better.

Your lips find his.

A cloud covers the moon.

You’re wearing just one of Seonghwa’s shirts, sitting on the edge of his bed in the morning light. He left twenty minutes ago to get coffee from your favourite spot, leaving you alone in his apartment.

You’re thinking about him.

You’re thinking about the soft kisses he gave you upon waking, his smile that you know so well, the way he looked shirtless in the morning light.

He had cupped your cheek, said he was going to get coffee and you felt a pang at him leaving, even for just a little while. Even just for twenty minutes.

Relief swoops through you when the front door opens, and Seonghwa calls your name. He comes down the hallway and stops in the doorway. His jacket is already removed, just wearing a hastily thrown on Star Wars t-shirt and a pair of jeans. He places one coffee cup on his dresser, running his fingers through his hair with his hand. He’s smiling, sitting down next to you.

“I missed you,” He admits bashfully, holding onto your coffee, his eyes dropping to your lap, “Should I keep it?”

Your hands are curled around the handle of the axe. You look at the blade; your reflection is distorted. He rests his chin on your shoulder, peering at you, waiting for your choice. Everything with Seonghwa is your choice because he loves you so much. He doesn’t question that you’ve been sitting in his bed, holding his axe, lost in thought.

You’ve been thinking about what is right, what’s wrong and what you want.

You kiss his forehead, and he makes a noise of contentment.

“You should keep it,” You declare, shifting the axe into his lap carefully. “Just in case.”

Seonghwa grins cheerfully.

“Yeah, just in case.”

the end.

#ateez fics #ateez smut #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa fics #seonghwa smut #the heart's filthy lesson #kpop fic #100 notes #500 notes

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joonsmagicshop · 1 month

Text

Professor Rapline

Summary: Mr. Kim is your English Literature and Poetry teacher and while he is known for being a strict teacher is he is also hot. So incredibly hot! So when he gives you an outlet for all your exam stress how can you possibly say no? Little do you realize it wont be just him you are getting pleasure from

Paring: Namjoon/Reader focused! Eventually Yoongi/Reader Hobi/Reader

Word Count: 15K

Rating: M/18+ because smut

Tags: A/U, Professor/student relationship,slow burn, flirting, pet names, Joon calls her princess Yoongi calls her Kitten, Hobi calls her baby, dirty talk, spanking, hand jobs, blow jobs, cum licking, eating out, sex, so much sex, basically she gets fucked three times in one night, choking, face fucking, power dynamics, dry humping.

Authors Note: I was possessed by a horny demon when I wrote this. This idea has been stuck in my head for months and once I started writing I didn't want to stop. This is a work of fiction and I do not recommend fucking your professors.

No one warned you about Kim Namjoon, Min Yoongi, and Jung Hoesok.

But then again, you doubted you would have believed them if they did.

It was the last semester before your time at University would be over for good, and honestly, you couldn’t wait. You were over the long nights studying, the assignments that had to be handed in on time or you would lose marks, and the group projects that were just as pointless as they were frustrating.

You had done everything you wanted to do, you went to the parties, kissed random strangers in bathrooms, and even hooked up with a few. You had a boyfriend for three months and decided it was better for you to be single and now you were ready to graduate and move on with your life.

Which found you sitting in the Academic Adviser’s office nervously shifting in your chair as you watched her go through your file. The office was painted a soft blue color and the heater was pumping out hot air on blast making the whole space dry and stuffy. As you wait, you unwound your scarf from your neck and placed it on your lap.

Her eyes met yours and she smiled softly at you.

“Well Miss Y/L/N it seems that you have a bright shining future that’s for sure. You have a wonderful file here and honors too, you must be proud.” She said beaming at you as you crossed your legs nervously and unzipped your coat.

You understood that it was the dead of winter outside but did it have to be so incredibly stuffy in here?

“Thank you. So I’m on track to graduate? Everything looks good?” You ask leaning forward in the chair.

“Well here’s the thing…” She trails off as she pushes her glasses back on her nose and scans the computer again.

Your heart drops.

“As I said bright and shining future for sure but you are missing just one credit. If you are unable to fit another class in this semester you would be unable to graduate.” She says with a frown as you see her eyes scan the computer to double check as your heart drops down to your boots.

There is no way.

You spent four years busting your butt, there was no way you were going to stay any longer than you had to.

“I can fit another class in! Which class do I need?” You ask in a panic as she clicks some more on the mouse and you watch her concentrate on the screen.

“Well, the good news is you just need one more elective class. The bad news is most of them are filled up…well. Except…” Her voice trails off again as you squirm in your seat, panic taking over.

“Whatever it is I’ll take it!” You respond eagerly.

“Miss Y/L/N it’s English literature and poetry with Mr. Kim.” She says in a serious tone as her eyes finally leave her monitor to look at you.

“Okay fine sign me up!” You say as you lean so far forward you are almost pushed right against her desk.

“Miss Y/L/N I understand you want to graduate on time but you must know. His class is notoriously known for being… quite difficult. I never want to slander a teacher but Mr Kim is very serious about his job and a lot of students come to me trying to drop his class.” She says staring at you with a serious look on her face.

You had no idea who Mr Kim was. The campus was so big you hardly knew where half the rooms were let alone half the teachers. But you had to graduate on time. You were not about to spend more money to have to go back to school for one elective course. There was just no way.

“That’s fine sign me up.” You say boldly as she frowns at you and types away on her computer. Well-manicured nails fly along the keyboard.

“Only if you are sure, you can always change your mind.” She says as you nod and she clicks something, you assume it’s to enroll you into his class.

"Okay, you are set. The class is on Wednesday nights at six pm. His classroom is 0994B which is in the basement.” She says as she pushes her glasses off her face to stare at you again.

“If you have any trouble at all please let me know.” She says as you nod and gather your things. You wrap your scarf around your neck and wave goodbye, leaving the stuffy office to head to the textbook shop to grab your book, having no idea what you just agreed to.

.........................

Two days later you found yourself searching the basement for the classroom you are looking for. While the University is beautiful with a rich history the basement is spooky and dark, especially in January when the nights are long and you rarely get sunlight.

Just as you approach the door you see a paper taped to it and you frown.

Basement heater is broken. Mr Kim’s class moved to 0294.

You let out a frustrated sigh and begin to ascend the stairs, hiking your messenger bag up on your shoulder as you climb.

The second floor is much nicer than the basement and you luckily find the new classroom with ease. You slip inside and take stock of the students. The lecture hall is large and set up like a theater with a podium at the front and the seats ascending upwards. You see most of the front rows are already taken with giggling girls.

You made your way to the back and plopped your things down in a seat slightly to the right of where the empty podium sat. You pulled out your phone to make sure it was on silent and as you took out your textbook and pens you couldn’t help but overhear the girls in front of you talking.

“That’s not a reason to take this class! I’m not carrying you though because you only signed up for this class because Mr. Kim is hot.” A blonde girl teased her friend as her friend shushed her and giggled.

“Come on that’s why people try and survive his class. He’s such a hardass but so nice to look at it makes up for it!” Her friend teased as both girls dissolved into giggles.

You wondered what the hell they were talking about. Mr Kim was hot? You had many English teachers throughout your years and they all were mostly the same type of person. Lanky, nerdy, either a tortured poet or a Shakespeare lover. You never pictured your teacher to be attractive at all and now thoughts of what he could look like clouded your mind.

But it didn’t take long for you to find out.

The second the door opened the entire class fell silent.

No one warned you about Mr. Kim.

But you’re sure if they did you wouldn’t believe them

Hell, you didn’t believe the girls who were sitting in front of you until you saw it with your own two eyes.

He was tall and handsome with blonde hair slicked back from his forehead and eyes narrowed as he looked through the crowd of students. When his eyes met yours you shivered but he didn’t linger as he made long strides towards the podium and set his brown briefcase down on the floor.

He took out a small laptop and set it up as you watched him in fascination. He was no doubt handsome and even though he had not spoken a word he had already commanded the class to be quiet.

It was quite impressive.

He took his time fiddling with the laptop as the class stayed deathly quiet. Once he got everything hooked up and the projector running he finally addressed the class.

“Hi I’m Mr Kim and I’ll be teaching you English lit and poetry.”

And then he smiled

When he smiled two beautiful dimples appeared on his cheeks and you knew you were undeniably screwed.

Not only was his class notorious for being difficult, but it also didn’t help he was drop-dead gorgeous.

Well, shit.

Your small crush on Mr. Kim lasted well in February. As the ground started to thaw and the days were very slowly becoming longer you spent most of your time buried in a book trying not to drown in your coursework.

While Mr. Kim was in fact the hottest man you had ever seen, the rumors were true and he was also a hardass about his subject.

By the second week, twelve people had dropped his class. He didn’t seem to mind or even acknowledge it, he just kept teaching.

By the time the first month was over twenty people had left and the class had once again been moved. This time to a small lecture hall on the same floor that was a lot more cozy and less intimidating than the original one.

You hardly noticed how many people dropped the class come March as midterm exams were approaching and you were too worried about your grades and future to worry about anyone else.

Your crush on Mr. Kim even took a backseat as you spent most of your time in the library, wistfully staring out the window at the sunny days wishing you were outside instead of in a stuffy old library going over poems written by people who had passed away ages ago.

In the last week of March, you got a break. Mr. Kim was teaching about Robert Frost and going over the poem “Nothing Gold Can Stay.” You were lucky enough to study that poem in high school so you sneakily took out your psychology homework and began to work on that, nodding and making occasional eye contact with Mr. Kim so he thought you were paying attention.

Lucky for you, you had finished most of the essay during Mr. Kim’s lecture. Unlucky for you class had ended five minutes ago and everyone had left the lecture hall, leaving you sitting there alone typing while Mr. Kim packed up his stuff.

You were so absorbed in your work you didn’t notice his hard gaze on you, how his eyebrow quirked when he saw how concentrated you were, and how he let out a low sigh as he made his way up the steps to approach you.

You did however notice when he was about two feet away from you and you gasped and slammed your laptop lid shut in alarm

“Miss Y/N.” He said smoothly as he took a seat in the aisle opposite yours and smiled softly at you.

You felt a blush appear on your cheeks as you hastily tried to come up with an excuse.

“Please Y/N tell me what you were working on. I know you aren’t typing that much about Robert Frost.” He teases as he stretches out his legs and you can see his slacks stretch under the pressure of his thick thighs.

“I-Mr. Kim, I’m so sorry. I…well I studied Robert Frost in high school and I have this big psychology essay that is due and I just wanted to get a head start on it.” You admit shyly as you shove your laptop in your messenger bag and gather your things.

You stand up to leave but a strong hand stops you.

“My class and Psych? I’m impressed.” He says as his hand leaves your arm but you can still feel the heat from where he touched you, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Well, I… yeah I need Phych and I needed one more class to graduate so I picked yours.” You admitted as you stood there in front of him.

“And the Academic advisor let you do this? Take both?” He asks as he remains seated and gestures to the chair you vacated. Knowing he wasn’t going to kick you out of his class you graciously sat down, placing your bag on the floor.

“I…well I kind of didn’t give her a choice. I don’t want to come back for a year to take one course.” You admit.

He smiles at you, dimples present and you feel pleasure bloom in your chest.

“That’s very admirable of you. I’m sure she warned you about me and my class and you still decided to go for it? I like that.” He says.

You nod not sure of what to say.

“What do you want to be when you get out of here? What are your goals?” He asks you breaking the silence.

“I want to be a high school teacher. Educate the future generations.” You say shyly as his smile grows bigger.

You smile back at him.

“Ah. Very admirable. A girl after my own heart.” He teases and you feel yourself blush at his praise.

You both lapse into silence and you feel your heart hammer against your chest. He is staring at you softly and you slowly reach out to play with the hem of your skirt, hands desperate to do something so you don’t reach out for him.

“I’m sorry for keeping you late Sir. I should let you go.” You say as you gather your things and almost miss the way his Adam’s apple bobs when you call him sir.

You don’t waste any time and make your way down the stairs, leaving Mr. Kim still in the seat watching you go.

“Y/N?” He calls back for you as you stop and turn to face him. He looks so nonchalant sitting there, and so incredibly handsome you bite your lip to stop yourself from saying something stupid.

“I'll speak to Mr. Min about your caseload and see if he can ease off a bit. He can be kind of a hardass.” He says as he stands up and stretches and you can’t help but sneak a peak when his cream-colored sweater rises to show a flash of taunt skin.

Fuck.

“Oh, Mr. Kim you don’t have to it’s okay.” You say flushed at his generosity as he makes his way towards you to gather his things.

“It’s okay I have to talk to him about something anyway. I won’t mention your name I’ll just tell him to lay off a bit.” He assures you as you nod.

You wish him a good night and make your way out of the classroom. Your hands grip the straps of your messenger bag tightly as you hurry across campus to your car. By the time you get into your car, you are sure the flush on your face is gone, but the butterflies in your stomach are fluttering around like crazy.

April.

The dreaded month of April.

April was prep for exam season and you were once again buried in your books. Spring was finally here and when it wasn’t raining buckets you spent your time outside, spreading your books on the picnic tables as you got to work catching up on things you had to finish before exams.

After your essay for Mr. Min, his class did seem to get easier. You never asked Mr. Kim about it, instead, you pretended to be oblivious about the whole thing though you did have a feeling a conversation was had because you noticed Mr. Min staring at you more than usual as he taught.

Every free hour was spent studying or revising or writing essays so you hardly had time to think of that day with Mr. Kim. How gorgeous he looked sitting across from you, and how his cream-colored sweater fit his body perfectly and showed off his sculpted chest and broad shoulders.

You only let these thoughts run ramped late at night, when the stress of the day caught up to you and you wondered what would happen if he did lean in and kiss you. How soft his full lips would feel against yours. Would he be soft with you or would he be in control and command you just as he did that first day when he walked into the room?

Often times you would let your hand wander into your underwear and you would circle your clit. Imagining it was his strong deft fingers instead of your own. You would imagine him pinning you against the wooden podium and pulling down your pants to finger you.

How his huge body would cage you in and how he would whisper dirty things in your ear, his voice low and gruff as he would prep you to take his cock.

Most times you could cum around your fingers thinking of him. Wondering what it would be like to have someone as tall and handsome as Mr. Kim fucking you.

The weather was getting even warmer and your stress was at an all-time high. At this point, you lived off coffee and would often take it to class with you as you worked.

Mr. Kim was going over the structure of your final exam and as much as you tried you were having a hard time keeping your eyes open. You had slept a total of three hours last night and his late-night classes were getting to you.

You fought your body as much as you could. Trying to take notes, trying to focus but before you knew it your eyes were shut and you were snoozing softly on your textbook, face smushed cutely into the cover.

Unbeknown to you Mr. Kim had been keeping a close eye on you since your private conversation and he caught you sleeping the moment your head rested on the textbook. He bit back a smile as he continued to address the class.

You had slept for half an hour. You were awoken by a strong hand lightly shaking your arm and you looked up to see Mr. Kim staring down at you, his lips curved in a smile as you blushed with embarrassment.

“Oh my god Mr. Kim I’m so sorry I just- I don’t even know what to say this is so embarrassing and I missed most of what you said about the exam and oh my god I can’t believe I fell asleep in class what’s wrong with me!” You babbled on as you frantically shoved all your stuff in your bag and avoided eye contact with him.

You were sure he was beyond mad. A student falling asleep in his class is super disrespectful.

“Y/N deep breaths please, I don’t want you hyperventilating in my class.” He teases you with a smile as you freeze and turn to look at him.

“I am so sorry!” You cry out as you bury your face in your hands and stare at the floor.

“It’s okay really.” He says as his hands circle your wrist to pry your hands away from your red face.

His big hands engulf your wrists and you let out a shaky breath as your mind goes haywire at his soft touches.

He is staring at you with concern written all over his face and you look around, once again the classroom is empty except for the two of you.

“It’s not Mr. Min this time I swear! It’s just exams and revisions and I want to keep my honor roll so I have to work hard I haven’t been sleeping much because of all the work and I’m so so sorry!” You blurt out eyes shifting from his sharp eyes to his plush lips that are still drawn up into a smile.

He catches you staring and cocks an eyebrow

You were really in trouble now.

“Y/N you have big dreams and it’s amazing how much you are taking on. Honestly when you told me your plan and the courses you are taking I was and am very impressed. You should be proud of yourself.” He says lowly. You glance down to see his hands are still holding your wrists steady and you wonder if he can feel your heartbeat pounding against your skin.

“Thank you.” You whisper out hearing your voice echo in the empty room.

“Being an almost University graduate can be stressful and challenging.” He starts as his thumb caresses your wrist and up into your palm.

You can’t help it, you bite your lip in anticipation as his fingers work your skin soothing you but also making your heart beat faster.

“It really is. I just want to graduate and be done.” You admit shyly as his sharp eyes are locked on yours.

“I totally understand that. I remember those days. I lived off coffee and ramen.” He admits standing up from his crouch to sit on the chair right next to yours, his thick thighs bumping against your knee as he lets go of your hands to get situated.

“Mind you I wasn’t trusted in the kitchen so my roommates did most of the ramen cooking.” He teases as you giggle.

He runs a hand through his hair and pushes it back from his forehead. The tension in the room is thick and you can’t stop staring at his lips, your mind flashing to two nights ago when you came around your fingers moaning his name.

He clasps his fingers together on the table and your eyes dart down to them. He grins when he catches you staring and you blush further.

“I guess what I want to say is it’s important to study hard but also important to take breaks when you need to. Stress can do major damage to the body.” Mr. Kim advises as you nod wordlessly at him.

“What do you do for fun? That’s not schoolwork? Do you have an outlet of some kind?” He asks softly.

You were sure it was wildly inappropriate to tell him that you orgasm to relieve stress so instead you tell him a little about yourself and your life.

How your parents live a ten-minute drive from the University so you never felt the need to stay on campus. How you like to take your dog on walks when the weather is nice and how he wears a little raincoat on days when it drizzles. You tell him about your friends and how you try to get together for movie nights but you all are so swamped with school you haven’t had time.

He listens intently and soon enough you realize you are blabbing so you shut up much to his dismay.

“You sound like you have good hobbies though maybe a balancing problem. You need to work hard but also play hard too. This is University after all that’s why people party so much to get rid of all the stress from teachers like me.” He says with a laugh as you laugh along beside him.

You explain how you did go to the parties in your first year but grew out of them and he nods along in understanding.

“I get that. And with being so close to the end I get you want to rush through and graduate to get it over with but you have to find outlets to relieve all the stress. Once you get into the workforce you’ll still have this stress and even though I’ll let it slide you fell asleep in my class the workforce won’t be so gracious.”

You nod along at his words as he adjusts himself in the seat, his knee bumping yours and sending your heart racing once more.

“I am truly sorry Mr. Kim I have never fallen asleep in a class before in my life.” You admit to him, brushing your hair behind your ears.

“Ah, so I must have been boring you.” He jests which has you protesting right away.

“No not at all! I would never think that of you!”

He smiles at your words and you push your knee into his as silent reassurance.

His eyes dart down to your lips and back up again and you smirk at him.

“So what you need to do is find an outlet for all that stress and built-up frustration. Some people choose to drink, but I think you might be over that, some people choose to lift weights or run. But there are…other options you know.” He says letting his voice dip dangerously low and you stare at him in shock when he winks at you.

Is he suggesting what you think he is suggesting?

Because if he is?

How the hell do you even say no to that?!

“I-uh. I’m not sure what you mean….sir.” You say putting on your best sultry voice and watching as a slow smirk appears on his face.

So he does mean what you think he means.

Well….wow.

“You know a lot of people have….experiences in University. Great time to get to know yourself and what you want…and like.” He hints as you push your knee boldly into his and his smirk grows wider.

The tension in the room is palatable at this point and you can almost feel the want radiating off both of your bodies.

You don’t want this flirting to end so you tease him some more, seeing how far you can take it.

“Oh, I already went through all that. Too bad University boys half the time don’t know what they are doing. Such a shame I have to do it myself.”

His eyes widen and his tongue darts out to lick at his dry lips. You wink back at him and feel him once again push his knee into yours with more force.

Your body is on fire when you lean in closer to him, letting his cologne cloud your senses.

“What a pity.” He almost growls out as you look up at him fluttering your eyelashes.

Boldly he unclasps his hands and places one on your knee, the same knee that is currently pressing into his under the table.

You let out a small gasp when his hand sneaks into the inside of your knee and his thumb caresses your other leg.

You wish with all your heart that today of all days you had chosen to wear a skirt instead of jeans but your skin is on fire as he traced fine lines into your jeans, eyes not leaving yours.

Neither of you speak as his hand climbs higher. The rational part of your brain is screaming for you to stop this because he is your professor, your teacher, your senior, but the horny part of your brain is begging his fingers to climb higher where he would for sure find you soaked for him.

Before you can do or say anything he squeezes your thigh and you let out a squeal of shock when his hand leaves you, before you know it he is standing up and making his way down the stairs back to the podium seemingly unbothered and unaffected by the whole thing.

You realize this is him dismissing you so you grab your things and make your way down the stairs. Trying to hide how aroused you are and how badly your pussy is aching for his touch.

When you make it to the podium, messenger bag slung over your shoulder he looks up at you and reaches out to hand you a little white card.

You see it's blank on one side but when you turn it over you see an address scrawled on the back.

His address?

“Pity University boys don’t know how to please a woman. As I said you need an outlet for all that stress. Friday night come to this address. Seven pm.”

Your eyes widen in shock

He was inviting you to his house?

“I- I don’t know what to say.” You admit still holding the card in your outstretched hand and as you stare him down.

“Show up or don’t your choice ultimately.” He says closing his laptop and packing up his things for the night.

“What if someone finds out? Or sees this card?” You ask him with a tilt of your head.

He chuckles softly.

“No one ever has before. I’m not too worried. But if you are… don’t show up. Shred the card.” He offers as he shoves stuff in his briefcase not bothering to look at you.

“You’ve done this before?” You ask hating how your voice sounds so scandalized. As if you weren’t egging him on the entire time.

“I think you know the answer to that Miss Y/N.” He says with a cock of his eyebrow as he places his briefcase down and finally locks eyes with you.

“I see the way you look at me. They all have the same look. The want. The desire. I’m just here to get a paycheck and maybe have some fun. Though I will forwarn you if you do show up you will be punished for sleeping in my class.” He adds with a smirk as you gasp.

“Balls in your court Y/N. And if you do tell anyone well you still have your final exam to write.” He says boldly.

Your mouth drops in shock.

“You're going to fail me if I don’t show up? Are you insane?” You cry out as he smiles down at you.

“If you don’t say a word regardless of whether you show up or not I won’t have to fail you. If it does get out, whether you show up or not…well.” He shrugs as an answer and you gasp at him.

You shouldn’t find this hot.

You really shouldn’t.

“Fine.” You bite back and his eyes sparkle with mischief.

“Have a good night Miss Y/N,” he says gesturing at the door.

Friday you tell your parents you are going to a study group. You have no idea how long this will take or what will even happen so you tell them to not wait up.

The drive is about twenty minutes from your house and you are shaking in anticipation the entire way.

Of course, you didn’t tell a single soul. You knew Mr. Kim was true to his word and you didn’t want to put your grades in the balance so you kept the note hidden in your wallet and double triple checked it before you drove over.

The sun was just starting to set casting everything in a beautiful glow as your hands tapped on the steering wheel and you turned down a side street.

The weather was warm today so you opted for a pale blue sundress with small yellow flowers on it. You dug out your best bra and underwear and tied your hair up to keep it from your face.

Your tote was on the seat next to you filled with textbooks you would never open as you finally made your way to the address and the big house.

It was a two-story white house with white shutters and a long driveway with three separate cars parked. You decided to park on the road and you pulled out the card to double-check again as the door opened and you saw Mr. Kim standing there staring at you.

You never told him you were coming but you guess he was ready anyway because when you grabbed your things and closed the car door he was smiling at you.

He looked so different than how he did in the classroom but still drop-dead gorgeous. His blonde hair was pushed back from his face in his signature style, he was wearing a black tight shirt and grey tight sweatpants that had your mouth watering.

He looked so good.

It really wasn’t fair.

“Hi.” You said softly as you made your way to the door.

He smiled at you and quickly ushed your inside as you took in your surroundings.

The living room was a good size with a big couch and a TV. Of to the side, there was a galley kitchen and you smiled when you remembered he said he was a terrible cook. You saw a staircase off the kitchen and a small bathroom off the living room.

“Mr. Kim thank you for this.” You start but he shushes you with a finger pressed to your lips.

“Please. I’m Namjoon. We don’t need the professional titles here.” He says as you kick off your shoes timidly and he puts a hand on the small of your back to bring you over to the couch.

“Namjoon.” You say his name as he smiles down at you when you both sit.

“Exactly. Or you can call me sir if you're into that.” He teases with a smirk as you blush.

“I think you are the one who would like that…sir… I saw the way you reacted when I called you that.” You tease back suddenly feeling bold as you drop your bag on the hardwood floor.

“You little tease. And getting all dolled up just for me, You shouldn’t have.” He mutters as his fingers come to play with the small straps holding the dress up.

“Yeah, you like it?” You smirk, standing up and swishing your dress around, giving him a full view of your legs.

His hands grab your hips and he pulls you down on his lap as you straddle him staring at him with lust-blown eyes.

“You absolute tease.” He grumbles as his hands come to play with the straps once more, taking his time to pull them slowly down your shoulders and letting them hang.

“What do you want?” He asks staring up at you not daring to make another move until you answer his question.

“You.”

Without warning he leans forward and captures your lips in a searing kiss. You put your hands on his shoulders for support as you kiss him back.

His lips are just as soft as you imagined and you take your time with him, letting him control the kiss as he pushes his body into yours.

You feel his half-hard cock in his sweatpants and when you grind down on it a small moan leaves his mouth.

His hands run up and down your thighs and finally settle on your waist as he kisses you harder pushing his lips into yours and nibbling on your lower lip.

You moan at the feeling and his tongue darts in your mouth to rub against your tongue.

You rake your hands through his soft hair and grab the hair at the nape of his neck as you push your body into his, letting your breasts press into his chest and making more moans fall from his mouth.

This was hands down the hottest makeout session you have had and you start to feel yourself grind against him as pleasure courses through your body.

He pulls away and grins lazily up at you as you continue to rock your core against his now fully hard cock.

“Bend over my lap I promised I’d punish you, princess.” He says as you stare down at him and continue your grind on his cock, the sensation too good to stop.

“What if I don’t want to be punished?” You tease him as he rolls his eyes at you.

His hands grab your shoulders as he pushes you down on the couch and in a flash he has your dress hiked up so your ass is on display.

You moan out when you feel his strong hands massage your bare skin.

“Lacy underwear for me? You shouldn’t have,” He jokes as his hand comes down to smack your ass.

The sting causes you to close your eyes and you moan against the cushion when he continues to spank you, ranging from hard spanks to soft little taps.

Your pussy is throbbing at this point and you are almost humping the couch with how aroused you are. Namjoon isn’t letting up though and after ten spanks he is kneading the sensitive skin and praising you.

“Mr. Kim please!”You cry out.

“What did you call me?” He asks, delivering a sharp smack to your left and right buttcheek causing you to push your face into the cushion harder and moan out.

“Namjoon! Namjoon please!” You cry as he lifts you up and once again positions you on his lap. You can feel the hard ridge of his cock and you grind down on it some more.

“What do you want princess?” He asks massaging the skin he spanked raw as you bury your face in his shoulder, turned on beyond belief.

“You. I want you.” You beg out as he smirks and you lift your head.

You don’t waste time grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. You gasp when you are met with toned tan skin, broad shoulders, and a muscular chest.

“God Namjoon your body.” You whimper as you lean down to pepper kisses along his collarbones and chest, arching your back so you can reach more skin and have your core press harder into his cock.

“I could say the same about you.” He says lowly as he pulls the straps of your dress down to free your bra to his hungry eyes.

He quickly gets your bra off and his large hands come to cup your breasts. You throw your head back and moan as his thumbs flick over your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure to your already-soaked core.

“God princess I can feel how needy you are, you're soaking my pants.” He says as you look down to see a stain forming on his crotch.

“That’s so fucking hot.” He admits as his hands continue to work your nipples and you continue to grind against his cock chasing your high.

“Princess you're so fucking wet for me I bet I could just slide in huh?” He says as his hands leave your breasts to run down the expanse of your stomach to the hem of your underwear

“Please. Joon. Fuck. Please.” You beg as his hand slips inside and your eyes roll back when he gathers your wetness and begins to circle your clit agonizingly slow.

“Use your words, princess.” He teases as he continues his slow torture on your clit. You throw your head back and grip his strong shoulders for support as you grind against his skilled hand.

“Want you to fuck me. Please, sir. Please.” You whine as he removes his hand and you watch as he licks his fingers clean, sharp eyes never leaving yours.

Your pussy pulses with want and a broken moan leaves your mouth.

“Gotta prep you, princess. Not to brag but I’ve been told I have a big cock. Don’t wanna break my girl before exams.” He teases as he taps your butt so you lift yourself and kneel on the couch giving him full access to your pussy as he pulls your underwear down and completely off leaving you in just your dress with nothing underneath.

He smiles up at you as his finger dips back into your underwear and he circles your clit again. You moan out and grip his shoulders when he inserts a finger inside of you.

You were right when you told him University boys didn’t know what they were doing

You had never experienced something like his before

And it never felt so good being right.

He took his time opening you up on his fingers. Adding another one and scissoring them, making beautiful whines and moans fall from your lips. You already felt close to the edge and when he curled his fingers upwards and thrusted deeper you let go.

Your body arched forward and you cried out his name as you orgasmed around his fingers. He chuckled darkly against your skin as you rode out your high. Feeling yourself pulse around his digits as he worked you through it.

Once you came down you straddled his lap once again and pressed your face into his chest letting your breathing even out as he stroked your hair and praised you for being so good for him.

“Please Namjoon.” You whined out as you pushed yourself up so you were face to face with him.

“Tell me, Princess. Tell your Professor what you want.” He says as you scoot back and stroke his cock through his sweatpants.

“Want you to fuck me Joon.” You beg as he wraps one hand around you to lift you and the other hand tugs at his sweats pulling them down so his hard cock is flush against his stomach.

He was right, his cock was big.

Thick and veiny, the tip was bright red and leaking precum down the shaft. You carefully wrapped a hand around his cock and began to slowly jerk him off, wanting to give him the pleasure he gave you.

“Princess you are too good at that.” He whines out when you twist your wrist at the top making his cock leak more precum.

“Princess you gotta stop I gotta get a condom.” He says as you stop your movements and giggle when he reaches for his wallet you didn’t even notice was on the coffee table and retrieves a condom from it.

Your pussy throbs in anticipation and right as he is about to roll the condom on the door bursts open.

Standing there is Mr. Min your psych teacher and you scream and bury your face in Namjoons shoulder as he looks unbothered by the whole thing.

“Jesus Joon on the couch?! Really? Thought we said bedrooms only!” Another voice says and you look up in time to see another male standing in the doorway. He is beautiful with slightly wavy brown hair and wide eyes, his features are soft giving him a look of unearthly beauty.

“Sorry, it just kind of happened,” Namjoon admits as you are still frozen in shock at the fact your other teacher is here watching the whole thing and seeming so chill about it.

“Mr. Min I’m so- I- shit I don’t know what to say.” You stammer as Mr. Min’s eyes lock on Namjoon’s in a harsh stare.

“You didn’t even tell her Joon? Jesus, do we have to do everything?” He asks as he comes around the couch and you push yourself closer to Namjoon in worry of what will happen.

“Listen Kitten. Come to my room when he’s done fucking you yeah? Up the stairs last door on the right.” He says pressing a surprisingly soft kiss to your back as he walks away from the couch and smacks Namjoon on the back of his head.

“No more fucking on the couch or you’re going to pay the cleaning bill.” He says as he makes his way up the stairs.

Your heart is still hammering in your chest and you are frozen in absolute shock

What the fuck is going on?

“Why do you get her first?” The other man complains as Namjoon pushes his head into your shoulder and whines in embarrassment.

“Because I’m her teacher too. She has no idea who the fuck you are!” Mr. Min calls from the top of the stairs in a teasing tone.

The other man comes around the couch and grabs your hand to shake it with a big smile on his face.

“I’m Mr. Jung but you can call me Hobi. We’ve never met but I’m the performing arts teacher. Once these two buffoons are done with you come to my room. I’m the last door on the left.” He sends you a sultry wink and before you know it he is heading up the stairs as well and you are frozen in shock.

“What the fuck.” You whisper as Namjoon is groaning into your shoulder and you look down to see his cock softening between your bodies.

“I… Shit, they are right I should have explained things before we started.” He admits as he pushes his head back to stare at you.

“I’m so confused.” You admit still in shock.

“Yoongi, Um I guess he’s Mr. Min to you, Hobi, and I were roommates at University. After we graduated we couldn’t afford housing alone so we decided to rent a big house and live together. We all work at the same place so it just made sense. Anyway, we found that there are…students who take an interest in us beyond academics and figured why the hell not? We are young and if we want them and they want us and it’s consensual…” His voice trailed off and you nodded.

“Anyway, sometimes we share our students and sometimes we keep them to ourselves. When I talked to Yoongi about how he was stressing out my students he admitted he had an eye for you, but so did I. So we agreed to share as long as I got you first. Hobi is…well he’s Hobi he’s not picky and usually is down for anything. You don’t have to do anything with them if you don’t want to. You can let me fuck you and walk out this door. It won’t affect your grade with Yoongi at all. I should have told you sooner, as soon as you got here but you in that dress…good god I had to get my hands on you.” He says running his hands up and down your hips as you whine and grind against him.

“Again you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. You can walk out the door right now, write your exams, and never see any of us again. Your choice princess.” He says.

You shake your head at him and slide off his lap.

You see his face fall.

And quickly turn to shock when you lower yourself down to the floor and engulf his soft cock in your warm mouth.

Namjoon grunts and grabs your hair that has started to fall out of your ponytail to keep it away from your face as you suck him down, loving the feeling of his cock starting to harder in your mouth.

You suck and bob your head as your tongue dances over the sensitive flesh.

“Fuck! Is that a yes then?” Namjoon pants above you as his hands tighten in your hair and force you to look up at him.

“Have sex with the three hottest teachers on campus? I’d be stupid to say no to that.” You tease as you jerk off his quickly hardening cock and get off your knees to get back on his lap and kiss him.

His hands tangle in your hair as he frees it from your ponytail and you kiss him wildly. Your tongues and teeth clash as you feel his now fully hard cock press into your abdomen.

“Fuck me Joon. Please.” You cry out as his hand comes down to spank your ass once more.

“Are you just saying that ‘cause you wanna rush to Yoongi?” He teases as he finally rolls the condom on his cock.

“Nah you made me wait a whole semester. If I wait any longer I’m gonna explode.” You admit as he positions his cock at your entrance and teases your folds with the tip.

“Well, I won’t make my princess wait any longer then.” He says as he inches his cock inside of you.

The sting is immediate and you bury your face in his shoulder as he pushes himself in inch by inch until he is fully sheathed inside of you, his large hands coming up to hold your hips steady and give you time to adjust to his length.

“God I made you cum and your still tight.” He grits out as it’s taking everything in him not to immediately thrust inside of you.

You take your time and slowly move your hips back and forth. His hands grip your sides harshly and he hisses every time you move.

You know he is being a gentleman and waiting for you to adjust and it makes you smile.

“Joon. Move.” You plea as he begins to thrust into you shallowly letting your body get used to the feeling of being stuffed with cock.

You let out a moan when he starts to pick up speed. Your hands rest on his shoulders and you use your legs to fuck yourself on his cock as he picks up the pace and is fucking you rather harshly.

The noise is obscene and you wonder if the other men can hear how Namjoon is fucking you. It makes your pussy clench and Namjoon lets out a hiss as he tilts his hips and pushes his cock deeper inside of you to hit your g spot.

You are moaning above him, hands holding onto his for dear life and feeling the coil of pleasure get tighter and tighter.

He must understand because one hand leaves your hip to come and circle your clit and a high whine leaves your mouth as you feel yourself get closer to the edge.

Namjoon once again picks up the pace and fucks into you harder and you capture his lips in a kiss and before you can warn him you are flying off the edge and cumming hard around his cock.

You whine against his mouth as you ride out your second high of the night and Namjoon fucks you through it. His hand leaves your clit and he continues to pound into you bringing you to the brink of overstimulation before he groans into your neck and cums hard into the condom.

You cry out when you feel his cock twitch deep inside of you and his thrusts become erratic as he works himself through his own high.

You slump your body against his and let your breathing settle as he does the same.

His hands still have a vice-like grip on your hips and when he finally releases them you look down to see they are slightly red.

You grin.

“That was wow.” He says pushing his sweaty hair back from his face as you grin at him feeling euphoric.

“I agree.” You say with a smile as you climb off his lap and try to stand, only to have your legs shake and your body nearly tumbles into the couch.

Namjoon steadies you and takes the condom off his softening cock and ties it up throwing it in a garbage nearby.

You pull the straps of your dress up and search for your bra and underwear but Namjoon stops you.

“Don’t bother, save the others the trouble of taking it off again.” He says which has you gasping.

“Remember you always have a choice. You can walk out the door now or go to Yoongi.” He says as you lean against the couch and smooth everything down trying to at least look presentable.

“You know my answer Joon,” you say as you raise your eyebrows at him.

He stands up and pulls up his underwear and sweatpants. Without warning he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder. You squeal in delight as he carries you up the stairs and to the last door on the right. He kicks it open with his foot and you find Yoongi hunched in a desk chair working on something on a laptop. His hair is messy under big headphones and he looks up with a slow smirk when Namjoon deposits you on his bed.

“Special delivery. No bra or underwear just a skimpy sundress. You’re welcome.” He teases as he winks at you and closes the door.

Now you are left alone with Yoongi having no idea what to expect.

“Did Namjoon fill you in?” He asks taking off his headphones and saving whatever he was working on.

“Yeah, he did.” You say suddenly breathless at the prospect of getting fucked…again.

“And did he take good care of you? Namjoon is the youngest of the three of us. Gotta make sure we trained him well.” Yoongi says as he rolls his chair over to sit at the foot of the bed, eyes roving over your disheveled appearance.

“Yes Sir.” You say watching Yoongi smirk at you as his hands trace small circles on your legs.

“How are you feeling?” He asks as his fingers take their time with your bare skin.

“Good. A little sore. Namjoon spanked me. But overall good.” You admit as your eyes are glued to his long fingers which are climbing slightly higher with each stroke.

“Why did he spank you kitten? Were you bad?” He mutters lowly as his hands come to your knees to part your legs.

You sit up for him and scoot your butt to the very edge of the bed and let your legs fall open. You hike your dress around your hips and give him a full view.

Yoongi’s eyes darken.

“I have this teacher called Mr. Min. He gave me so much homework I stayed up all night completing it and hardly slept. I fell asleep in Joon’s class so he had to punish me.” You tease as you watch Yoongi’s hands trail higher and higher on your skin.

His cheeks are flushed and his brown hair is falling into his eyes as he watches his hands caress your skin.

“Ah well if it were me I’d do the same thing. Naughty girls get punished.” He says giving your upper thighs a soft smack as you whine.

You start to pout but just as you stick your bottom lip out, he leans forward to kiss you.

You plant your hands on his jean-clad thighs as you lean forward to kiss him back. His lips are soft as he presses them to yours. You flutter your eyes closed and focus on the sensation of his good his lips feel against yours.

You feel your core throb with arousal and you push your lips harder into his, loving the way he grunts against you and tangles his hands in your hair.

You spend awhile just kissing and testing the waters and soon enough Yoongi pulls away and his eyes are dark, clouded with lust and you can see an obvious bulge in his jeans.

“Can I suck your cock?” You ask as you stand up and stare at him.

“Namjoon didn’t let you suck him off?” Yoongi asks as he stands up and takes your spot on the bed. He throws you a pillow to kneel on and you take your spot between his legs palming at his bulge eagerly.

“I mean he did but hardly. Think he was too excited to fuck me.” You admit as Yoongi lets out a quiet laugh and your hands come to pop the button of his jeans open and tug the zipper down. His eyes widen when you see his cock straining against his dark boxers.

“I don’t blame him,” Yoongi mumbles as he pushes his hair back from his face to look down at you kneeling on the floor between his legs.

A sight he wants to commit to memory.

You slowly pull his jeans down and he helps you kick them off. You take in the sight of him, already looking fucked out and you hardly touched him.

“What were you working on when Joon dropped me off?” You ask as you bring your hand up to palm at his erection.

“M-Music. I make music on the side.” He admits as you push your palm into his cock and soak in the moans that are falling from his lips.

“Hard ass Mr. Min makes music on the side? That’s cool.” You tease as his eyes snap open and he stares you down dangerously.

“What did you call me?” He asks in a low voice as you hook your hands into his boxers and he lifts his hips to assist you with pulling them off.

“A hardass? Come on you knew that already.” You tease letting your hands run up and down his hard shaft, smearing the pre-cum all over it as his eyes threaten to flutter closed again.

Before he can reply you lean forward and wrap your lips around his cockhead causing him to moan and lace his fingers tightly through your hair.

You take your time sucking him, loving the feeling of your tongue lapping up his precum and loving even more that you are making big bad intimidating Min Yoongi fall apart.

You slowly take him in deeper and smirk when he grips your hair harder and bucks his cock into your mouth.

You bring your hand up to work in tandem with your mouth and you hollow out your cheeks and continue to suck him.

He throws his head back and whines as you take him deeper. By the time you get his cock down and your nose is brushing against his neatly trimmed pubes, Yoongi has his hands laced through your hair and is grunting above you.

He tastes salty on your tongue and your eyes water when your gag reflex kicks in but you do everything you can to relax your throat and swallow around him.

Rough hands tug at your hair as he pries you off his cock and you look up at him with tearful eyes, as a string of spit is still connected from your mouth to his very red cockhead which is slowly leaking more precum.

“Kitten you are far too good at that.” He complements as you smile up at him and he leans forward to grab your arms to help you up.

You stand on shaky knees as Yoongi grabs you and pushes you down on the bed. You let out a squeal of delight as he flips you onto your back. He hikes up your sundress and lets it pool around your midsection as he eyes your still-soaked core.

“You’re still all puffy for me Kitten.” He comments as one finger comes to trace at your clit and you whine and buck your hips into his hand.

“Mmm Yoongi.” You moan letting your eyes close as he teases your clit with the tip of his finger, his eyebrows scrunched up in concentration and his tongue darts out to lick at the corner of his mouth.

“What do you want kitten"?” He asks plunging a finger inside of you making your body arch off the bed and your hands come to grip the sheets below.

“You. I want you Yoongi. Real bad.” You cry out as he adds another finger without warning and begins to take his time opening you up.

“You already got fucked by one man now you want another so soon. You're such a greedy kitten.” He purrs reaching up to kiss and suck at your neck.

You tangle your hands in his hair and let the sensation of his soft lips on your heated skin take over.

He takes his time plunging his fingers inside of you and stretching you out. You felt like you didn’t need stretching out after Namjoon’s cock but you weren’t about to say anything as Yoongi’s fingers felt like magic.

“Wanna come around my fingers?” He asks as his lips are still sucking at your neck and you are grinding your butt down to meet his thrusts, fucking yourself on his long fingers.

“Would rather cum on your cock.” You admit as his head snaps up and his eyes meet yours. His eyes are dark and lustful and when he pulls his fingers out he licks at them taking his time cleaning them and leaving you whining out on the bed.

“Kitten doesn’t know how to use her words.” Yoongi teases as he sees your frustration but still takes his sweet time.

You frown at him.

“Kitten did use her words you just chose to ignore them.” You fire back which causes Yoongi to pounce on you, resting his whole body weight on yours as you feel his cock press against your center.

“Did you just talk back to me?” He growls as he grabs the base of his cock and runs it through your folds.

“Sorry, Sir. Guess I’m just impatient. You like to take your sweet time.” You answer back not bothering to hide your attitude as Yoongi’s hand wraps around your throat.

Your eyes bulge when he squeezes it and you let out a choked moan when he stares you down with an intensity that has your core throbbing.

His hand tightens on your neck, pressing into your pulse which has it racing against his fingertips. You flutter your eyes closed but with his free hand, he lightly slaps your cheek.

“Look at me when I speak to you. Naughty Kitten comes into the lion’s den to get fucked by three different men. Now she thinks she can sass back to a man who holds her future in his hands. I could fail you right now if I want to. I could squeeze your throat until you passed out. I could throw you up against a wall and fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk for a week. “

Your eyes roll in the back of your head at his words.

“Now are you going to behave or am I going to add to the spankings you already received? Hmm? Gonna drop that attitude yet or still think your hot shit around here.” He growls out as his fingers start to ease on your throat and you expand your lungs taking in as much air as you can.

“Sorry, Sir. I’ll behave.” You say softly as Yoongi smiles down at you and presses soft sweet kisses to your neck, soothing the area he just had his hand wrapped around.

He slowly gets off the bed and reaches over to the nightstand where he pulls out a foil packet. He opens it and rolls it down his hard cock, jerking himself off as he goes.

You watch him work his cock with nimble fingers and soon enough he is on top of you again positioning his cock at your entrance.

“Let me know if it’s too much.” He says softly as he slips his cockhead inside and begins to inch in slowly.

You can’t help but whine when he finally gets all the way in. His hips are flush against yours and you both breathe heavily at the sensation.

He stares down at you with hair falling into his eyes and slowly presses his lips to yours.

The kiss is slow and sweet and the complete opposite of how he choked you earlier. You tangle your hands into his hair and give your body time to adjust.

This time it doesn’t take your body long to adjust and you start to wiggle your hips to give him the signal to move.

“You good Kitten?” He asks pulling away to stare at you.

And what a sight you were.

Hair splayed out on his pillow, eyes blown wide, and cheeks dusted with a pretty blush.

"Please.” You beg as Yoongi begins to thrust inside of you shallowly, slowly picking up the pace as he goes.

His hands are on either side of your head holding himself up as he fucks into you. You tear your eyes away from his gorgeous face to see his biceps bulging and you moan out his name.

The sound of slapping skin, grunts, and moans fill the room and you shift down to meet Yoongi’s every thrust.

But something is missing. You want more.

“Yoongi please.” You cry out when he thrusts into you harder and his cock hits that spot inside of you that has your toes curling and your lips parting in an obscene moan.

“Again Kitten use your words. Did we teach you nothing? Fuck.” He cries out as he tilts his hips to get a better angle deep inside of you.

“Choke me. Please fuck. Yoongi.” You beg as your hands come up to claw at his back.

He stops his movements. Completely stills and you whine at the loss of friction.

“You…sure?” He asks staring down at you with eyes wide. Like he couldn’t believe you had just said that.

“Please.” You beg as Yoongi smirks and slips out of you.

You let out a frustrated noise as he positions himself at the foot of the bed and taps his bare lap, signaling you to come over and ride his cock.

“Can’t hold myself up and choke you kitten. You have to decide.”

You scramble to the end of the bed and sink down on his cock. He feels so much deeper in this position and when his hand comes up to your neck you let out a moan and feel your eyes flutter closed.

“Fuck your a vision like this with my cock stuffing your pussy and my hand around your throat.” He mutters as you use his cock and begin to ride him.

He has one hand on the bed holding himself up and the other is around your neck.

You are seeing stars, absolute stars. The pleasure from his hand around you slightly choking you and the feeling of his cock stuffing you full has you riding him harder, chasing the high you so desperately craved.

Yoongi pushes a little harder on the sides of your neck and you're a goner. You arch your back up and feel the pleasure that was building and building finally crescendo into an orgasm that punches the air out of your lungs, or maybe that was the fact Yoongi was still fucking up into you wildly and his hand was still wrapped around your throat.

“My pretty Kitten cumming with my cock stuffed inside her and my hand around her pretty neck, fuck you are so hot. What the fuck. What the actual fuck.” He blabbers as he chases his own high and is soon cumming inside of you. His hand leaves your throat to steady himself on the bed so you both don’t topple forward and hit the floor.

You let him ride out his high as you come down from yours. He buries his face in your shoulder and grunts low and dangerous as he finally stills his hips.

He slowly shifts you up and off his lap, plopping you on the bed and standing up so he can crack open a window.

The whole room reeks of cum and sex and you flop back down on his bed putting a hand on your chest to feel your heart beating rapidly.

Yoongi pulls up his boxers and fishes around in his drawers for some looser pants pulling them over his legs before he sits down beside you.

He shoots you a rare smile and you smile back at him.

“So I’m not actually going to fail your class am I?” You tease breaking the silence as he giggles and you smile at him.

“Nah that was a heat of the moment thing. You are top of my class I would have no way of failing you.” He admits and you sit up and stare at him.

“Wait really? I’m top of the class? I…wow. I didn’t expect that.” You say shyly as he messes up his hair and smirks at you.

“How? You actually show up. You hand in assignments. You work hard. There is no reason you shouldn’t be top of my class.” He says and you flush at his praises.

“Even if a teacher had to come to talk to me and tell me to lay off a little bit.” He says with a teasing tone.

“He told me he wouldn’t say specifically who!” You say with a laugh rolling your eyes to the ceiling.

“He didn’t say it was you specifically but I could tell you were working yourself to death and needed a break. Or a release.” He says wiggling his eyebrows as you smack his arm.

Before you can answer there is a knock at the door and you pull your dress down and smooth it out as Hobi appears.

“Ah just in time,” Yoongi says as he smiles up at his friend.

“I know I heard you fucking her.” He grumbles as he leans against the door frame and you take him in.

The other two you were familiar with, but Hobi was a stranger so you took your time.

Your eyes roved his lean dancer’s body and how he leaned up against the door frame and crossed his arms with ease. He looked intimidating except for the small smile on his face.

“Only if you want to Kitten. You can walk out of here now. Your choice.” Yoongi reminds you.

“I don’t want to pressure you but I’m so fucking hard right now,” Hobi admits with a bite of his lips which has you standing up on shaky legs.

In two long strides, he reaches you and holds you steady against his strong frame.

“What did you do to her? She can hardly stand.” He accuses as Yoongi smirks and grabs a sweater on the floor, throwing it over his head and making his way back over to his desk and opening his laptop.

“Have fun kitten.” He says as he winks at you and puts his headphones over his ears.

Hobi leads you out into the hall and you take a shaky breath staring up at his beautiful face.

“Only if you want to.” He says shyly and you nod.

“Words please.” He says crossing his arms and staring you down.

“Yes. I want to. Though I might be extra sore.” You say with a grimace as you feel how tired your legs are and how your ass still stings from Namjoon’s earlier spanks.

Hobi grabs your hands and leads you to his room across the hall. You enter and take in the bright walls and decor and the big bed in the middle.

You can’t help yourself as you flop down on his bed and curl up in a ball. You take in the smell of his bed sheets and you sigh as he comes to sit next to you.

“You don’t have to baby. Seriously I want this to be good for both of us.” He says massaging your back as you peek up to look at him.

“Sorry Hobi I want to. God, I want to. It’s just the last two were…intense.” You admit suddenly feeling shy when he rolls you onto your back and stares down at you.

“How about we take it slow? Let me massage you and we will see where it leads hmm?” He asks and before you can answer he rolls you onto your stomach and his long fingers begin to massage the back of your legs.

You close your eyes and rest your cheek on his bed as he gets to work. He takes his time applying pressure to your sore muscles, digging his thumbs in where he feels like you need a little more pressure being respectful the whole time, and not letting his hands trail too high up your body.

You let out a whine when he massages a particularly sore spot and you spread your legs for him wider, letting his hands dance over the skin of your inner thighs.

“God baby you’re so tight.” He mutters as his hands travel down your calves and back up again earning a broken moan from you.

“So dance teacher huh?” You ask as he continues to work your muscles this time his hand inches high on your hamstrings and you push your face into the mattress at the feeling.

“Yeah, I’ve always loved dance and music and I had some teachers change my life and the way I see dance so I decided I wanted to be just like them. I love what I do.” He says softly as his fingers dig into your flesh and you feel yourself start to relax.

“How come I’ve never seen you on campus?” You ask voice muffled by his sheets as his hands continue to work your right and left leg.

“The dance studio is the furthest away from your building. We are the complete opposite sides of campus. Can’t have us blaring our music and having fun while you are trying to study for a test.” He teases as he gives you a small smack on the ass causing you to jolt and let out a pained whine.

He lifts the skirt of your dress and stares down at the red marks Namjoon left behind. His skilled hands massage the tender flesh and you let out another satisfied moan.

“T-True. But might be nice you know, to see you guys perform, might take away some stress.” You admit as his hands still wander your butt cheeks.

“I thought that’s what we were doing here?” He teases as you crane your neck to look at him and he flashes you a toothy smile.

His hands come to your hips to flip you over to your back. You stare up at his beautiful face and lean yourself up on your elbows capturing his lips in a kiss.

His hands cradle your head and hold you steady as he kisses you back. You feel blissed out as just like the others he takes his time exploring your mouth and pushing his lips into yours.

The kisses are slow and sweet, with no urgency just two people taking their time to get to know each other.

You shift so you are kneeling on the bed and you run your fingers through his dark hair and he sighs happily against your mouth.

You let your hands explore his hair, moving down to his neck and exploring his body.

You grab the hem of his shirt and your lips part so you can pull it off of him.

You press soft kisses to his neck and collarbones and smile against his skin when he throws his head back and whines.

You take your time with his body, kissing every freckle or mole you find as he holds your hair back and allows you to explore.

You stop at the hem of his loose-fitting pants and you can already see a sizeable bulge which causes you to giggle.

"So eager.” You tease as you lean up to capture his lips again and palm at his hard cock. He whines in your mouth as you push your palm into him and make sure to grind against his cockhead.

“You have no idea what it was like. Having to sit in this room and hear Namjoon and Yoongi fuck you. Torture.” He admits as you continue to palm him through the material.

“Did you like hearing how good I was getting fucked?” You say to him as you dance your fingers along his cock which is straining against the material, when you give him a squeeze you realize he is not wearing anything underneath and you gasp.

“Had to take them off. I was so fucking hard my cock needed some room. Didn’t wanna jerk off in case I came. The noises you make. Fuck Y/N I know why Namjoon picked you.” Hobi admits as you pull his pants down and watch as his cock smacks up against his toned stomach.

You take your time circling the base of his cock with your hand and he buries his face in your shoulder and whines at your touch.

You feel yourself start to get wet but you want to take your time and focus on him, he needs this more right now.

“If I make you cum now would you be able to still fuck me?” You ask as you begin to jerk him off, applying just the right amount of pressure and smearing his precum down his aching shaft.

“I-fuck-” He says as you flick your wrist at the top and watch as he bites his lip burying his face into your shoulder harder.

“Words please.” You say with a smirk as he pulls away and stares you down.

“I can tell you have been with Joon and Yoongi. I know I’m too pent up to fuck you right now I probably wouldn’t last. So yes. Please. Make me cum and I’ll fuck you.” He says as you nod and begin to stroke him harder.

He leans up to pull you in for a searing kiss and you tighten your grip on his cock which has him moaning against your mouth.

His hands are tangled wildly in your hair and you continue to jerk his cock harder and faster until he can no longer kiss you and instead is just moaning and whining against your swollen lips.

When you run your thumb under the head of his cock his hips jerk, fucking himself into your fist.

He continues to snap his hips forward and back, using your hand as his own personal fuck toy and you let him, loving the way he throws his head back making his hair push back from his sweaty forehead and the way the veins in his neck strain against his skin.

“Gonna cum for me?” You growl as you watch his eyes flutter open and he nods.

“Cum all over my hand Hobi. Come on now. Be a good boy and cum.” You demand and he loses it.

His body convulses forward and he buries his head back into your shoulder as he cums. Ropes of hot cum coat your fist as you let him work himself through it. He is still fucking up into your tight fist and when he finally stops you release his cock and begin to lap at the cum he left behind.

“Fuckkkk.” He groans out as he watches you lick and suck the cum up, his taste exploding in your mouth as you take your time, keeping your eyes locked on his as you finish the job and completely clean yourself.

“How are you real? Holy fuck how are you real?” He whines out as you smirk at the way his jaw is dropped and his eyes are blown wide.

You smile at him as you drop down on his bed and lie on your back, your knees starting to get sore from all the kneeling you had to do.

Hobi smirks and crawls off the bed, his hands grab at your hips and he pulls you to the very edge of the bed and kneels on the floor. Your eyes widen when his hands come to your knees and he flips up the skirt of your dress and prys your legs open as he gets comfortable between them.

“Gonna eat you out.” He mutters as he places hot kisses on your thighs and you spread them open wider for him.

When his mouth finally gets to your core you are almost shaking on the mattress. He laps at your clit and begins to swirl his tongue around it making you see stars.

Your hands grip the sheets below as you bring your legs up to wrap around his back caging him in place.

He chuckles against your core and continues to suck and lick at your clit, you can hear the wetness of his tongue lapping at your wetness and it makes your pussy pulse.

His tongue runs up and down your slit and he buries his face into your core causing his strong nose to bump against your clit sending you arching off the bed and a broken moan falling from your lips

His hands hold onto your thighs keeping you steady as he licks and sucks, pressing harder and working faster as you feel your orgasm start to build in your lower stomach.

You are squirming on the sheets and his name is falling out of your mouth in a prayer as he works harder and sucks up everything you are giving him

“Ho-Hobi stop you gotta stop.” You cry out as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge. Not wanting to fall off too soon.

“Baby your sopping wet for me.” He says as his head pops up between your legs and you see his lips shiny with your arousal, some is even leaking down his chin, and you swear it’s the hottest sight you have ever seen.

“Want you to fuck me Hobi.” You say as you sit up and watch him get up from the floor. His cock is once again rock hard against his stomach and he smiles at you.

He grabs a condom and rolls it onto his cock, pumping himself a few times as he leans down on the bed.

“How do you want me?” He asks as you sit up and close your legs giving him room to sit next to you.

“However you want. I just don’t think I can ride you. I think my legs will literally fall off.” You say with a laugh as Hobi eyes you mischievously.

“Did you ride both Joon and Yoongi?”

You nod.

“Don’t they know there are other positions to choose from? Fuck no wonder you are tired.” He says sitting on the bed beside you and stroking your knee in a comforting way.

“Well Joon I didn’t mind but with Yoongi we had to….for…reasons.” You say blushing at the memory of his hand wrapped around your neck.

“Reasons?” He asks with a cock of his eyebrow.

“He um..was choking me. Consensually of course!” You reply as you choose to stare at the floor instead of Hobi’s surprised face.

“Kinky.” He says with a soft giggle as you face him and smile shyly.

“Okay how about this lay against the headboard feet flat on the bed, I’ll do all the work baby.” He says patting you as you follow his instructions.

You spread your legs as Hobi crawls up the bed towards you. He places his hands on the headboard to hold himself steady and is on his knees running his cock through your folds.

You let out a broken whine and his eyes snap to yours in concern.

“I’m okay just…sensitive.” You admit already knowing that having a third cock inside of you in a short span of time will only make the soreness worse.

“I’ll go easy baby.” He says as he uses his fingers to spread your pussy lips even more and he slides his cock in.

Hobi is just as big as the others and even though you have lost track of how many times you have cum you can still feel a slight stretch as he bottoms out.

You close your eyes and scrunch your face, letting your body get used to the sensation as he stills and gives you time to adjust.

“Fuck you are so wet inside. Your soaking my cock baby. So fucking wet. And all for me.” He mutters in your ear causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.

He starts to thrust shallowly inside of you and you bring your knees closer to your chest giving him more access to your core as he starts to pound into you with force.

Hobi is skilled with his hips and you can see why he would be a good dancer, he alternates from wild thrusting to burying his cock deep inside of you and grinding his hips causing his cock head to brush against your g-spot.

Hobi holds your legs open almost bending you in half and giving his cock room to go deeper inside of you, you swear you can feel him in your stomach but your eyes are too heavy to open right now so you take deep breaths and focus on the sensation.

The view you are missing is immaculate.

Hobi’s hips are thrusting deep inside of you and his head is thrown back in pleasure. His hair is sweaty and stuck to his forehead and his lips are sucked into his mouth as he works on bringing you over the edge.

You feel the coil of pleasure start to tighten and you know you are close.

Hobi is so good and once he gets into a rhythm he starts thrusting erratically making you shake on the bed and whine out his name.

Your eyes are screwed shut when you cum. Crying out his name in a broken moan that is ripped from your lungs. You want to cry from the feeling of having another orgasm as euphoria washes over you. It is too much and not enough at the same time and you feel tears slip out of your eyes when he continues to work his cock deep inside of you chasing his high.

“One more baby can you give me one more?” He asks in a desperate tone as his thrusts become erratic and you hold onto his shoulders for dear life as the overstimulation is almost painful.

“Ho-Hobi please please it’s too much… fuck!” You cry when his hand comes down to circle your clit and you feel your walls clamp down on his cock.

“Want you to cum with me can you do that baby. Come on one more on my cock.” He says breathlessly as you quickly reach the edge one more time and you cry out and feel your walls pulse against his cock which twitches and cums deep inside of your pussy.

He has his cock buried all the way in and is panting above you as you both ride out your highs.

When you finally come down the soreness in your body takes over and you slump against the headboard.

He pulls out of you and tosses the condom and leaves you spread eagle on the bed. You don’t mind though you are too worried about trying to force air back into your lungs after that intense orgasm.

Faintly you hear running water and you open your eyes to see Namjoon standing there leaning against the door frame with his hands tucked into his pockets.

He changed out of his clothes into soft green pj pants and a big baggy sweater, the hood was thrown over his messy hair and he stared at you affectionately.

“Come on princess we have to get you cleaned up now.” He says as he enters the room and walks over to Hobi’s window throwing it open to air out the room.

You groan and bury your face in the pillows, the last thing you want to do is stand up right now.

“Come on I got you.” He says softly as he scoops you in his arms like you weigh nothing and you bury your face in his soft sweater as he carries you towards the source of the running water.

The bathroom lights are dimmed and you see Yoongi is already there testing the water with his finger. Namjoon sets you down on shaky legs and you look around at the three men standing in the bathroom, all of them grinning at you.

Namjoon slowly slips the straps of your dress down and he lets it pool at your ankles. You step out of it as Hobi holds you up and helps you into the warm bath.

You sink into the warm water and let out a content sigh as Hobi and Yoongi leave the room, leaving you with Namoon who is still staring at you affectionately.

“Take as long as you need Princess. Towels are over there and there is a change of clothes on the vanity. It’s our stuff so it might not perfectly fit but it will do.” He says with a dimpled smile.

“Yoongi is making some food so take your time we will bring it up to you.” He says softly as he closes the door.

You inhale the lavender scent of the bubble bath and you sigh and sink deeper in the water, hoping it will ease some of the ache in your legs.

You flutter your eyes closed and aren’t sure how long you are laying there when the door cracks open and Yoongi is there with a plate of noodles that smell wonderful.

He places it on a mini folding table and leaves the room again, giving you time to eat in peace.

You spend a total of forty minutes in the bath and as you dry off and throw on the soft sweatpants and sweater someone knocks on the door and you see Namjoon standing there again.

“How do you feel princess?” He asks still leaning against the door frame as you let your hair down and throw the hood of the sweater over your messy hair.

“Relaxed. And so sleepy.” You admit as he comes behind you and hugs you, letting his chin rest on your shoulder.

“You did amazing tonight princess. So good for us. It’s pretty late so if you want to crash here we have a spare room. Or if you're comfortable you can sleep next to one of us. Or if you want to go home you can. Your choice.” He says as he raises his head to stare at both of your reflections in the mirror.

“Wanna sleep next to you Joon? Is that okay?” You say feeling small and safe in his arms.

He shoots you a smile as he takes your hands and leads you to his bedroom. The small bedside lamp is on and you see the duvet already rolled down. He assists you over to the bed as your legs are still shaky and he helps you get under the covers.

He crawls in on the other side and flicks off the lamp casting the room in darkness as he comes behind you to spoon you, his hands holding you flush against him.

“What time is it anyway?” You ask craning your neck to look out his window where you can see a small sliver of the moon illuminated in the sky.

“Almost eleven.” He replies as you gasp.

You didn’t think that much time had passed.

“Time flies when you're being fucked.” He teases as you smack his arm and he laughs, face buried in your neck.

“You should give me bonus marks on the exam for dealing with your terrible jokes.” You grumble as he is still chuckling behind you.

“Maybe I will.” He says as you can hear his voice drop a couple of octaves, he must be as tired as you are.

“Night Mr.Kim.” You tease pushing your butt back so it’s flush against his cock as he groans low in your ear.

“Goodnight Miss Y/N”

#Kim namjoon #Min Yoongi #jung hoseok #namjoon #jhope #bts #bts rapline #namjoon smut #yoongi smut #hobi smut #namjoon/reader smut #yoongi/reader smut #hobi/reader smut #yoongi #bts smut #bts fanfiction

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upsidedownwithsteve · 8 months

Text

Steve Harrington x fem!reader [15K] PART TWO OF TWO old money steve, an infatuated waitress, no labels, a disaster waiting to happen. some smut, some jealousy and too many mentions of monaco. 18+

tw: mentions of pregnancy, slight steddie.

If it doesn't, you ain't doin' it right

Five weeks.

You didn’t see Steve for five weeks. Not for lack of looking. The Lake House was astoundingly quieter with the loss of the youngest Harrington and his friends, the bar empty, the Macallan well stocked and poker nights were taken over by the older generation. You didn’t see him on the golf course, nor in the spa. He didn’t frequent the smoking lounge and you didn’t see him at the bar. Gone was his maroon BMW from the parking lot and on the one, stupid occasion where you’d swallowed all your shame, you drove past his townhouse after a late night shift and you weren’t sure if you were disappointed or relieved to see it sitting in the dark, empty.

You hadn’t exchanged numbers that night, still, the radio silence was infuriating. But hey, at least he wasn’t just plain avoiding you.

Which you realised when he waltzed in one Tuesday before lunch service, more tanned than ever, white shirt sleeves rolled up, tan trousers perfectly tailored. His eyes were on you immediately, his hair longer than you’d last seen him, like he’d been so busy he hadn’t had time to get it cut. Strands of it fell into his eyes and he swept them out of the way with a grin as he approached the bar. More so a smirk, really. And it irked you, his smirk, his pretty brown eyes, his perfectly messy hair, his sunkissed skin and don’t give a fuck attitude.

He leant on the bar like he owned it, elbows pressed to the wood, hands clasped in front of him so the gold ring glinted in the afternoon sun. He didn’t say anything, he just waited, watching as you finished polishing a wine glass and put it back on the glass shelf.

You cleared your throat and didn’t bother to smile, but the voice you spoke in was very much reserved for customer service. “Good afternoon, sir. What can I get you?”

You watched as Steve’s eyes flashed a little darker, amused and something else. He let out a soft laugh, like he thought you were funny. Like he thought your cold indifference was hilarious. So he played along, sliding onto one of the suede stools. The bar room was somewhat empty, most of the members either gathering for lunch in the sun room or soaking up the last of the warm weather on the golf course. It was quiet, and the tension between the two of you could fill the entire manor.

“A Macallan, please,” Steve answered, just as politely.

He was still watching every move you made, eyes raking over your legs, the fit of your dress over your hips, the swell of your ass when you turned and reached up for the bottle of scotch. You smiled, a sardonic press of your lips that didn’t meet your eyes when you asked him, “would you like ice with that?”

Steve really laughed then, but there was an edge to it that told you were getting under his skin. If he wanted to leave the country for over a month after blowing your mind in his fancy living room like it was no big deal, well— you could pretend you don’t care. Or better yet, didn’t even remember him.

“No ice,” he said and before you could pour, he waved his hand for you to stop. “Actually, you know what? I’d prefer the forty year. You have that right, honey?”

You did. But it was in the back, behind a heavy, locked door. The forty year old scotch could go for thirty thousand dollars a bottle. You tried not to look surprised, or worse, impressed. So you nodded instead and told him, “of course, sir. Please bear with me.”

But when you left the bar to walk towards the door that was marked ‘employees only,’ Steve was behind you. You watched him lean against the wall as you fumbled with your key card, pressing it once, twice - fuck - three times against the pad before it buzzed. And when you pushed the door open and Steve caught it, slipping in behind you, your cold indifference turned to anger.

Who did he think he was? Did he think he was that untouchable?

“This is employees only,” you hissed at him, panicking at the thought of someone else - god forbid, your boss - catching you in the hallway with him.

Like they’d be able to tell you’d gone to his late one night, that you’d stood and stripped for him in front of his big fireplace and bigger TV, like they’d find out he’d put his mouth on you and made to you come harder than anyone else ever ha—

But Steve just sighed, a long suffering thing that made your hackles rise up that little bit higher. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Honey, how many times do I have to tell you?” He brushed past you, hands in his pockets, walking down the corridor towards the locked room where the high value liquor was kept. “No one gets in trouble unless I say so. Now, come on.”

You didn’t want to obey, you didn’t want to do as he said. But you were at a loss. He looked so good and smelled so nice, clean and like the ocean, like sunscreen, like he’d just stepped off the plane from whatever Italian city he’d been hiding in and came straight to you. So you didn’t say anything, you just straightened up and let the clickclickclick of your heels fill the silence as you edged past him again and walked towards the door.

He didn’t let you reach it before he started talking again, a lazy drawl that matched his slow walk, an effortless thing that suited his linen trousers and effortlessly rumpled shirt. Even the lock of hair that fell across his forehead looked artfully placed.

“Aren’t you going to ask where I’ve been?”

You clenched your jaw. “No.”

You heard him laugh and the sound made your hand slip from where it tried to remember the combination for the door. He was so sure of himself, so sure and so confident that you’d spent the last five weeks thinking of him and where he was and what he was doing and who he was with—

“So rude today, honey. You don’t want to hear about the business deals I secured? The money I made?”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. You kept your back to him, body stiff, mind positivity empty as you tried to recall the fucking code. You could sense him getting closer, body heat crowding yours, his cologne, his scent, like he’d bottled an Italian summer and sprayed it all over himself.

“No,” you repeated. Blunt, short, cold.

“What if I brought you back a present, wouldn’t you want to know then?”

He was behind you now, a towering presence, intimidating even when you weren’t looking at him. His chest brushed your back, a solid, warm thing that you wanted to melt against. But you kept yourself strong, hoping he couldn’t see your shaking hands as you tried another series of numbers. Steve’s hand came up to your neck, sweeping away the hair there, his knuckles brushing the sensitive skin.

The keypad beeped at you in protest, another denied entry.

“You’re not like the other girls, are you, honey?”

You braced yourself, waiting for the speech about how you were different from the others, better in whatever way Steve deemed appropriate. Prettier, maybe. Smarter, quirkier, some kind of compliment that was supposed to make you preen for him.

Steve tsked and moved closer, his nose brushing the nape of your neck. “No, you don’t want my money. You’re not interested, huh? You don’t want the cash, the presents, no diamonds, no five thousand dollar shoes. You don’t want the cars or the houses or the yachts or the ring on your finger, huh?”

You didn’t get a chance to answer. Steve’s little speech didn’t go the way you assumed. The boy spun you suddenly, backing you into the wall as he took your chin in his hold, heated skin between a finger and his thumb, his nose and lips trailing over your cheek, your temple. You closed your eyes, breathing him in. You waited.

“No, honey, you just want fucked, don’t you?”

His lips were at your ear, trailing over the shell of it and you couldn’t help the way your eyes fluttered, heading lolling back until it thudded against the wall. You were breathing funny, your body boneless. How did you fucking get here?

Steve grinned even though you couldn’t see, teeth on your jaw instead. He took your hand from where it lay limp by your side and brought it to his crotch, cupping it between his own and his cock, the hard length of him pushing against his slacks and your small hand. “You just want this, right?” His teeth nipped at you and you scrunched your face in pleasure, lips parting. “Tell me.”

You folded, a new kind of girl from the one that stood at the bar, brushing him off and pretending you couldn’t recall the way you came on his tongue. You nodded, brows knitted together, like you were ready to beg. Maybe you were. “Yeah,” you answered breathily. “I want it.”

Steve kissed your cheek, a sweet thing, a sudden and shocking touch. “Want what? Wanna hear it, honey, c’mon.”

Heat rushed through you, clinging to your cheeks, your neck. You squirmed, embarrassed and turned on, even more embarrassed that you were throbbing at his words. You blinked at him. “Want your cock,” you whispered.

“Smart girl,” he cooed. “Clever girl. Such a good fucking girl.” Steve let go of your chin, used his fingertips to brush your hair back and draw a line down your jaw. He pressed another kiss, to your chin this time, a fleeting thing that you tried to chase. You wanted to taste him. “That’s better isn’t it? So much better when you play nice. Where do you want it? Hm? Wanna suck it for me, honey? Want to feel it down your throat?” Steve tsked, his voice low and controlled despite the filth he was muttering against your cheek. “No, no, you want it inside of you, right? My baby wants fucked, right?”

Baby. My baby. It didn’t feel like a pet name, not really. Not like the way he said ‘honey,’ like melted candy on his tongue. No. This felt like ownership.

You were throbbing from the inside out, your brain buzzing, a white noise kind of sound that tuned out everything bar Steve’s voice, his words, that awfully fucking pretty cadence that made you feel like you were one step away from getting in trouble. You don’t know why you loved it, why it made your toes curl, your lips part and a whine get stuck in your throat.

“Fuck, Steve,” you clawed at his shoulders, nails scraping over his shirt, creasing the expensive linen. You didn’t care. “Yeah, please, I want that.”

“Oh, it’s Steve, now, is it?” The boy laughed a little meanly, grabbing at your hips to turn you for him, your chest pressed to the wall as he made sure your ass stayed popped out for him. He traced the pretty arch of your back, rocked his dick against the curve of your ass cheek and squeezed. “I think I preferred ‘sir.’ Made you sound so much more agreeable.”

You just moaned. A sound you’d never heard yourself make, an animalistic thing, wrecked sounding and it made Steve beam. “Oh honey, you’re filthy, aren’t you? You’d let me fuck you right here, wouldn’t you?” His hands found the hem of your dress and cool air hit the tops of your thighs as he started lifting it up.

You didn’t care. You didn’t fucking care.

Your cheek was pressed to the wall, Lake House green paint under the press of your palms and you remained pliant for Steve, back arched and legs spreading a little, ready for him to pull your underwear to the side and slip his cock inside of you. You wanted it, you needed it—

“I’m not gonna fuck you here, pretty girl, not yet.” Steve was at your ear again, whispering against the shell of it, his fingers grabbing a handful of your ass under your dress as he squeezed and pulled at the dough of it. “Gonna take my time with you for that. Going to make sure I ruin you.”

Disappointment washed over you like a bucket of cold water. It was sobering and his words made you whine, a desperate noise that the staff corridor of The Lake House should never have heard. You turned on your own volition, gazing at Steve with heavy lidded eyes and you were pleased to see he looked the same. Cheeks pink, lips parted, his chest moving a little quicker than before. You remembered the way he’d taken charge that night, how he’d just assumed you’d come home with him after the poker game, how he’d sat in front of you, sprawled on his big sofa as he watched you take off your clothes for him.

How he’d told you to.

And then he’d made you come undone, unravelling against his mouth as he whispered dirty things to you, leaving you fuzzy and hazy as he dropped you home, seemingly unaffected. You wanted that power back, you wanted to see him too far gone to remember how much money he had in the bank.

So you pressed your palms to his chest and smoothed down his shirt collar before you dropped to your knees in front of him. It should’ve been a submissive thing, most people would assume it was. You, kneeling below the rich man, the man who had wealth and connections and an entire legacy built on just his name. You, the girl who was paid to serve him from behind a bar, pouring drinks that you’d ever be able to afford, on the floor in front of him.

But when you looked back up at Steve, his cocky expression had changed to one of awe. Genuine surprise showed in his eyes, lashes fanning over his cheeks as he blinked at you, dreamlike, hazy, fuzzy. Just like he’d made you feel. You brought your hands to the front of his trousers, finger teasing the button there before he slumped forward a little and braced his hands on the very wall he’d pushed you up against. He nodded, mumbled something that sounded like ‘please.’

Victory.

You looked back at the door you’d come through, no windows in the wood, but still thin enough that could hear the grand piano playing in the dining room, the distant tinkling of china teapots against porcelain teacups. Anyone could walk in. You’d get fired. Or worse.

The button popped under your finger and thumb, and the zipper whispered in the quiet when you tugged it down. Steve groaned, a heavy, hot sound that made the slick between your thighs worsen. He was leaning over you, head bowed between the arms that held him up, his full lips pink and parted as he stared down at you. You waited for some sort of instruction, an order, some filthy kind of praise but instead, he just watched.

Powerless.

You flattened a palm against his cock, hard and warm under the cotton of his black Calvin Kleins, your other hand braced on his thigh. You looked up, one brow raised, a silent question even as the solid length of him kicked up against your touch.

“Yes,” he rasped, nodding. “Yeah, honey, go ‘head.”

You worked fast, the rest of the club a far away murmur behind the locked door as Steve’s heavy breaths took over your senses instead. You dragged the band of his underwear down, his cock slapping up against his stomach. He was huge, thick and long and hard to wrap your fingers around and you hated that he had another reason to walk around acting like he fucking owned the world.

But you wanted the power back and you grasped him in your fist, pumping him against your palm as he tried to stop his hips from bucking forward. You wanted Steve like putty, yours to play with, you wanted him to fall apart as fast and as hard as he made you.

So you skipped the teasing, leaning forward to lick a broad stripe across the head of his cock, salt on your tongue and he swore, hips jerking when you opened your mouth and let him slide past your lips. You worked quick, heart racing from the adrenline of sucking someone off during working hours, hidden in a place you weren’t supposed to be. This was stupid, it was so fucking stupid but the stretch of your jaw around Steve’s cock was delicious, the sounds he was making even better. He was gasping your name, his voice hoarse, his eyes barely able to stay open but his lashes fluttered and he made sure he watched the way his cock disappeared in and out your mouth, over and over again.

Your nails scratched at his thighs, making him hiss, your free hand pumping the length of him that you couldn’t nudge into your throat. It was wet and messy, a filthy thing that made his brain malfunction ‘cause you were looking up at him the whole time with big, doe eyes and your pretty, little dress was splayed over your thighs. You looked like sin, you looked like his own personal wet dream and you were tracing your tongue along the underside of his cock as the head of it hit the back of your throat and—

“Oh my god,” Steve growled. One hand fell from the wall to grasp your head, not pushing, not guiding. Just twisting into your hair and holding on for dear fucking life. “Oh, fuck, m’gonnacome.”

It had barely been five minutes and a new sort of determination flushed through you. You were soaked, inner thighs wet from the heat of Steve’s stare, from the weight of his cock on your tongue and god, he was tipping his head back, eyes squeezed shut as he groaned, fingers tightening in your hair as he realised you were doubling down on your efforts and not pulling off.

“In your mouth, honey, yeah?” His voice was a little higher, breathier, so much less than controlled that it ever had been. “Gonna come in that pretty mouth, that smart, little mouth, hm? Please? Gonna swallow it all for me?”

You hummed in agreement, refusing to take you lips away from him, bringing a hand to cup his balls as you worked your mouth around him, rolling them in your palm. Steve twitched against your tongue, hips jerking forward as he gasped out everything from a prayer, to your name, to a curse. He came hard and sudden, his jaw hanging slack as he stared down at you, watching with a greedy sort of awe as he spilled over your tongue. You made a show of it for him, lips parting and mouth open as you pumped what you could out of him, letting him see it cover your tongue before you swallowed.

And as he stood, barely keeping himself up, breathless and speechless, you tucked him back into his trouser, soft and spent. You stood primly, caged between his arms as you smoothed down your skirt and met his gaze. He looked a little wild, a little wrecked and he swore under his breath when you licked your lips, using your thumb to politely swipe at the corner of your mouth, like a lady at high tea, not a girl who’d just sucked the fucking life from him.

Neither of you spoke. You weren’t sure Steve could. So you ducked under his arm and walked away, heels clicking on the hardwood floor as you tried to make sure he couldn’t seen the way your legs shook. Chin high, smile victorious, you didn’t look back before you slipped out of the door and out to the bar. It took a while for Steve to appear, face still a little flushed, but he’d brushed back his hair and smoothed out any wrinkles in his shirt, his trouser buttoned back up but his eyes gave him away.

They were glittering, trained on you as he came through the employees only door like he owned the entire building.

He didn’t care that you were serving Mr and Mrs St. Clair there afternoon martinis. No, he walked right up to the bar and tapped his fingers on the wood, vying for your attention. You gave it easily, gaze on Steve instead of the cocktail shaker you were filling with ice.

“What time do you finish?” He asked, voice still rough.

You swallowed tightly, eyes flitting to the older couple who weren’t paying you much mind. Not when their drinks weren’t ready yet. “Seven,” you told him.

Steve nodded. “I’ll be waiting outside.”

—————

That’s how it went.

No labels, not much talking - not about anything too serious anyway, like the future. Just a whirlwind you couldn’t really call a romance because Steve Harrington had fucked you in every room of his house, every car he parked in his too big garage, but he’d never kissed your lips. You’d found that Steve didn’t really do sweet unless it came with some kind of condescending tone that made your toes curl, surprising you on the odd occasion with a sudden fondness that even shocked him. But still, no kisses. He’d kiss you everywhere else, forehead often resting against yours as you both caught your breaths, his cock still inside you. You’d feel his nose bump your own, a soft touch, an intimate thing. But he’d pull back when you’d lift your chin a little, mouth searching for his like he hadn’t just been gasping into it.

He didn’t really hold your hand or call you his girlfriend but he knew your favourite wine, an expensive Chardonnay he liked to buy you by the crate, along with flowers you hadn’t even seen before, colourful blooms that looked like they belonged in a magazine. He’d place his hand on the small of your back when he took you out to restaurants, cocktail bars full of business men that only he knew. Away from Hawkins, always in the front of one of his cars, each one faster and shinier than the last. Dining rooms with chandeliers and low lights, pillar candles on white table cloths and five forks each.

He showed you off, surprising you with silk dresses and red bottomed heels that you told him off for, but Steve would kiss your neck, your bare shoulder and whisper how he wanted to take the pretty dress off of you later, how he wanted you in nothing but Louboutin’s. His touch was possessive, dirty, sometimes surprisingly caring, a gentleman that opened your car doors for you, who pulled out your chair for you to sit.

But no, he never kissed your lips.

And when he was spending days and weeks in Rome, Milan, Cannes, New York, Los Angeles, Singapore, St. Martin, well. When was there time to talk about relationships?

Steve Harrington was private jets and brand new Bentley’s. He was a special edition Rolex and had his family's name outside Hawkin’s city hall on a gold plaque. He was silk, leather, polished shoes and freshly ironed shirts. Gold, suede, expensive cologne, yachts in Monaco, a villa in the hills of the French Riviera. But he wasn’t your boyfriend.

No. He was thousand dollar bottles of whisky, business deals in San Tropez, a private beach club in Marbella. He was parties. He was the party. Cocktail nights with the elite, a grown up rager in someone's mansion, where chandeliers swung from ornate ceilings and the stairs were painted in gold leaf, littered with coked up rich kids who were using daddie’s hundred dollar bills to fill their noses.

Like the one you were at now, the thumpthumpthump of far away music still managing to reach you three floors up. The entire house was filled with art, a gallery more than a home and twenty something year olds made the place look too messy, black ties loose around men’s necks as girls walked around the marble floors barefoot, bottles of Moët clutched in their hands, each one looking for someone else to fuck. Grecian statues were thrown like footballs, busts of women from too long ago used as something to take a line off of and there were five people in the pool outside, naked, drunk, all taking turns touching each other.

It was debauchery at its finest. At its richest.

It was Eddie’s idea.

He’d invited Steve who’d then picked you up in a car you hadn’t seen before, a deep green Camaro with tan leather seats. It was already late, later than you’d like to have left for the beginning of a night out but Eddie promised a good time and the possibility of a new business venture for Steve.

The house had been an hour out of town, nestled off into the countryside between a forest and a lake, the long driveway spot lit as it led to the huge brick manor. You’d walked through the door behind Eddie, Steve’s hand on your back as he coaxed you inside and into the chaos. Music, bodies, champagne flutes overflowing on a round table in the foyer, marble flooring, tapestries on the walls, spilled glitter on the stairway and money littering a desk, poker chips on the floor.

No one greeted you, no one looked at you. But someone slapped Steve on the shoulder and Eddie shook a guy's hand, a bag of white powder exchanged for a rolled up wad of cash. No words were said. So Steve grabbed a mottle of Moët from a tabletop and took your hand, only to lead you up the stairs and Eddie followed, a cigarette hanging from his lips as he winked at the girl on the landing that you all had to step over.

An empty room, champagne bubbles, two men.

The bed was huge, a canopy style thing with too many pillows and with gold stitched quilts. Red drapes and low lights, a thick carpet that you dug your toes into when you slipped off your heels and then fell onto the mattress. Eddie followed, tipsy, boisterous, laughing as he did. Steve lazed in an armchair in the corner, long legs splayed out in front of him as he sipped from the bottle, his eyes on the way the hem of your dress slipped up your thighs.

“How does Steve’s little friend like the lifestyle?” Eddie asked you, grinning. “Is the Moët to your taste, sweetheart?” He was teasing and you knew that, teasing in a lighter way than Steve would because he was smiling and his eyes were kind, his cheek pushed to the bedding as he waited for your answer.

You took the bottle from Steve and let the bubbles slide down your throat, the fizziness tickling the roof of your mouth and it wasn’t sweet enough. Still, you took it greedily, wetting your lips before you dropped the empty bottle onto the floor with a thud. “I prefer Chardonnay, but it’ll do,” you joked back.

Eddie laughed and then hummed. He appraised you thoughtfully before his eyes flickered to Steve, dark in the dim light. “Oh yeah, Mr Harrington was kind enough to buy you a whole case of it, huh? I saw the order, sweetheart don’t get flustered.” Eddie reached out to brush a stand of your hair away from your face and from the corner of your eye, you saw Steve sit up a little straighter. “He’s real nice, isn’t he? Likes to spoil a pretty girl like you.”

“Eddie,” Steve’s voice was a warning.

“Right?” he continued, nodding at you like you’d agreed. You simply watched him from the bed, breath hitching a little when he propped himself onto one elbow so he could look down at you, one finger tracing up and down your forearm. “Jewellery, flowers, nice dinners, nicer dresses,” he trailed off, plucking at the strap of your black dress. “Pretty things for pretty girls. He doesn’t kiss you though, does he?”

The air was sucked out of the room and Steve bristled. “Eddie.”

Eddie ignored him. He tutted sympathetically, pouting at you. “He hasn’t, has he? He never does, some weird rule he has.” You didn’t say anything, you couldn’t. But you gasped quietly when Eddie traced a finger over your bottom lip, tugging at it gently until he let it go and it fell back into place with a soft ‘pop’. “Such a shame.”

He pulled away slightly to look back at Steve, who was sitting forward in the chair now, his elbows braved on his knees as he stared at Eddie with a dark expression. Like he was waiting. Warning him. But he didn’t say anything, so Eddie turned back to you.

“D’you know that Steve and I share things?”

You shook your head, wishing you had the sense to sit up, to collect yourself, to pull the hem of your damn dress down because the warm air that was trapped inside the room - between these two men - was heating up the skin on your thighs.

“Yeah,” Eddie explained. “Shares, stocks, cars… girls.” He leaned down again, nose bumping against your temple as he whispered theatrically into your, loud enough for Steve to hear. “He likes me more than Hargrove, you see.”

You could hear a pin drop.

“Do you think he’d let me kiss you, sweetheart? I bet he would.” Eddie was on his hands and knees now, crawling over you, hovering just above, hands braced on either side of your head and he grinned at the way your pupils grew a little bigger, a little darker. Both of you turned your heads to the side, your cheeks pressed to the expensive Egyptian cotton and you both looked at Steve. You weren’t sure what for. For a scolding, for a fight, for approval.

“C’mon, Harrington,” Eddie broke the silence. “She’s not your girl, is she? You gonna let me taste her? Seeing as you don’t? Bet she’s so fuckin’ sweet.”

Steve let out a huff of breath, his eyes flashing as he gripped the arm of the chair too tight. He sat back into the leather, shoulders stiff and lips in a straight line. “I know how she tastes, Munson, trust me.”

The way they spoke about you like you weren’t there made your skin tingle, an electric current that ran through your bones and you were buzzing, fizzing - but that might’ve been the champagne. But still, Eddie continued, playing Steve until he was flushed in the face with an emotion you couldn’t place.

“Yeah but those lips look pretty fucking biteable,” Eddie whispered and he ducked his head down, nose brushing yours, lips parting when yours did on instinct. “Could eat her up. Like a little peach, huh?”

Steve didn’t say anything, he didn’t stop it. He just sat and stared, cock stirring in his trousers because this is how these parties went and this wasn’t the first time he’d watched his friend take the girl he’d brought on a bed. In fact, this was tame compared to the other nights, lines of coke and whisky on a bedside table, his cock buried in some strange girl's mouth as Eddie took her from behind, shirt buttons ripped open and matching red lipstick on both their chests.

This was different. It felt different.

But still, he stayed quiet.

“You just want a kiss, don’t you?” Eddie cooed as he kept close, nuzzling his nose to your cheek, making sure his lips brushed across your when he moved to the other side. Your hands curled around the outside of his thighs where he kneeled over you, keeping him there, holding tight. You could see Steve out of your peripheral. “Pretty thing like you just wants some lovin’, I know it.”

Then slowly, as if allowing you - or Steve - to stop him, Eddie moved in, kissing your top lip before moving to your bottom, a barely there thing before he was kissing you properly, mouth pushing against yours. He angled his face so Steve could see, so the other boy on the armchair could watch the way he parted his lips and opened your own with his tongue, licking into you in a way that made your back arch. Steve watched the black silk of your dress - the one he bought you - meet Eddie’s shirt, matching colours, black as midnight. Ink on skin, moving against a stranger's sheets. Nipples pebbling against the material as Eddie dragged one of his hands down your sides, lifting your arm up and keeping it above your head so he could drag his fingers down the side of your breast, the material pulling tight over your skin.

He followed the curve of it, made you gasp into his mouth and then he was groaning, whispering something about how sweet you were, his tongue sweeping over your own before he was ripped away from you.

Steve had Eddie by the scruff of his shirt, hauling him off of the bed and you until he staggered into the other boy, grinning like this was all the funniest game in the world. You were panting, lips still glossy from Eddie’s kiss, eyes wide with shock because Steve was pulling himself up to his full height, shoulder squared, chin tilted up.

His nose almost touched Eddie’s.

“S’wrong, Harrington?” Eddie whispered. He was goading, excited, too amused. “She’s not your girl, right?” Their chests touched but Eddie didn’t back down, still grinning, curls mussed from where he’d lay on the bed with you, your gloss smeared across his own lips, a pretty pink that matched the flush across his cheeks. “You normally don’t mind sharing, dude, what’s the problem?”

Steve’s nostrils flared and he was breathing a little heavier, gaze flickering to you as you sat up and smoothed down your dress, your hair. Part of you wanted to get between the boys, soothe whatever was about to start, but something inside of you wanted to hear what Steve had to say. You stared back at him, feeling too hot, too exposed but you waited, gaze hard on him.

“Quit playin’, Eddie,” Steve warned and he took one step back, standing in the middle of you and the other boy. He looked flustered, a little put together than he normally did, his eyes dark and his cheeks heated, his back too stiff and he shoved his hands in his pockets to hide the way they were balled into fists. “I’m not in the mood.”

But Eddie kept smiling, hands held out in front of him as if he were surrendering but he continued to smile, eyes shining as kept talking, voice lilting. “Poor thing just wanted a kiss, man, only giving her what you don’t. Sorta mean, don’t you think?”

You couldn’t say anything, you just watched as Steve glared and Eddie grinned, the room filled with something more than faded music, empty champagne bottles and all the leftover bubbles. Tension fizzed in the corners, it made the walls crack and split, it made your chest turn a little too tight.

“Like I said,” Eddie gestured to you, eyes flirting up and down your frame appreciatively before turning back to Steve, “s’not like she’s your girl, is she?”

The thump of a bassline from two floors down, faint splashes from a pool outside the open window, the smash of a glass. But silence from Steve.

“Am I?”

Your voice sounded so much smaller than you wanted it to but you stared at Steve as you watched his jaw tense and flex. He closed his eyes and said something under his breath, something you couldn’t hear, pressing his thumb to the corner of his eye before he faced you.

“We’ve, uh,” he swallowed and reached for another cigarette. “We’ve spoken about this, honey.” He said it calmly, casually, like you should’ve known better.

But you had spoken about it at all. Not really. Steve’s silence said more than words and when he only pressed kisses to your cheek, to the insides of your thighs and side of your neck, you’d finally gotten the hint. Steve Harrington didn’t get attached. He didn’t do relationships. He was too busy, and spent too much time between too many cities, too many countries. Steve Harrington had yachts and cars and penthouses and villas. But he didn’t have girlfriends. Not just one, anyway.

You should’ve known. You had known. But hearing it aloud made it hurt that little bit more. So you nodded as if you agreed and when Steve lit the cigarette and let it hang between his lips, you stared at the floor as he stared at you. Then he was nodding towards the door and expecting you to follow him.

“C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

You didn’t move. Eddie chuckled, a dark thing that made Steve glare at him but he looked over at you, cigarette between his fingers as it turned down quicker than he could smoke it. “Honey, let’s go.”

You still didn’t move.

So Steve looked at you and then he looked at Eddie and scoffed, waving a dismissive hand before he left the room and left the house.

Oh Lord, save me, my drug is my baby

You didn’t hear from Steve for the first few days after the party.

Four days went by without seeing him and honestly, that was okay with you. He stayed away from the clubhouse, even when you saw Billy and Eddie in the lounge, Jonathan at poker nights, Steve wasn’t with them. You saw his car around town now and then, passing the maroon BMW as you drove home from work late at night, watching its tail lights speed away in your rear view mirror. You wondered if he had another girl in the front seat, someone else he called honey and fucked on the living room sofa.

You told yourself it didn’t matter. You knew this would happen, you were just stupid enough to let it. You knew you’d get your heart broken, you knew you’d be the one left hurt. Because despite Steve’s proclivity for showering you in gifts and sex, you did have fun with him. He was sweet when he wanted to be, when he took off his suit and tie and shut off his pager. The business calls would stop and he’d forgo the expensive wine and designer shoes in favour of bringing a bag of your favourite chocolate, a dollar from the gas station and more appreciated than he realised.

There had been a night he’d taken you his kitchen counter, your legs wrapped around his waist as he fucked you with an intensity you’d never felt from him before, his forehead pressed to yours, his soft murmurs falling into your open mouth.

“Eyes on me, honey, keep watchin.”

“You’re so pretty, y’know that? Could stay inside you all fuckin’ night, Jesus Christ.”

“There she is, there she is, look at you, huh? Fuckin’ perfect at takin’ me.”

It had made you feel giddy, fuzzy, coming on Steve’s cock harder than ever and after he slid out of you he ran you a bath instead of taking you home. He didn’t join you like you asked, scoffing at the idea of lavender bubbles and water hot enough to scald him but he did sit on the tiles, shirtless and with his hands in the tub, fingers trailing over your water slick legs. He told you about the places he’d been, beaches and cities, the towns he’d think you’d like. And in the candle light, at three in the morning, with no one else around, Steve told you that he’d have to take you one day.

You’d hummed, pleased, heart racing at the idea of something coming from all of this. Not a free holiday, but someone to be with. A boyfriend, maybe, a partner. Someone who loved you as good as they fucked you. You weren’t deluded, you knew this wasn’t love. Not yet. But this handsome man came to the bar one day and decided that you were going to be his in some way or another. He wined you, dined you, spoiled you. Fucked you the way you asked and looked at you with stars in his eyes every time you got on your knees for him. He didn’t want you kissing anyone else, even when he couldn’t bring himself to kiss you.

There were times you thought he would. Times he looked at you like he wanted to, needed to. Straying closer and closer to your lips every time he kissed you goodnight, a lingering thing on your cheek that you wished you could bottle up and keep. He’d let his lips graze over you when he fucked you, pressing you into the cushions of his couch because even taking you to his bed was too intimate, too much like a relationship. So he’d fuck you slow in his living room, in the glow of the fireplace with the red wine forgotten on the table as he lost himself in it all, mouth skimming over the planes of your cheeks, the slope of your jaw, the very fucking corner of your bottom lip, like that wasn’t as bad as letting him bend you over his mattress.

Steve Harrington told you that he didn’t get attached, but you weren’t able to promise him the same.

So your crush gave way to anger, a frustrated annoyance that made your blood simmer when you left work one Wednesday evening, autumn settling over the town as you wrapped your jacket around you a little tighter and headed to your car. Except Steve was leaning against the hood of it, a dozen red roses clutched in one hand. He didn’t look nearly as put together as he normally did, but you thought he was twice as pretty. Still tanned, forever sunkissed even as the leaves on the trees started to fall, dressed in a pair of jeans and an old Harvard sweater. He didn’t go to Harvard, didn’t need to, but he looked every part the preppy boy you would’ve fallen in love with if you’d made it to college.

He looked softer but still as confident as ever as he stayed lounging against your car, like he was waiting for you to come to him. Instead you rolled your eyes and headed to the driver's side of your old Volkswagen, ignoring him as you passed.

“Wow, you’re just going to pretend I’m not here?”

Annoyance flared inside of you at the sound of his voice, unapologetic with a touch of entitlement. You scoffed, turning to the boy only to glare and you opened the drivers door so you could throw in your purse. “Most people would start with an apology, Steve.”

He pushed off the front of your hood and came to you, flowers held out as if to say ‘this is the apology.’ You could smell the flowers in the air, fresh and a vibrant red, overflowing from his hand and you could only imagine the price he paid for something that would wilt and die in a few days.

“You actually have to say it, you know.” You challenged him, eyes meeting his, unblinking, unwavering. Time spent with the richest man in town had given you some confidence of your own, an unflinching boldness when faced with stares in restaurants, whispers in crowded bars. “I don’t want your gifts.”

“Honey,” Steve tried, reaching for your hand. You moved back, out of his reach. He tried another approach, softer, sweeter. “Baby, c’mon. I’m sorry, alright? I am. I shouldn’t have acted like that at the party.”

He was right, he shouldn’t have. So you nodded but kept away, standing stiff and tense as you decided whether you should ask what you wanted to. You crossed your arms, a protective stance, and tried to sound braver than you felt. “Why wasn’t Eddie allowed to kiss me?”

Steve stared at you before he scoffed, setting the roses on your car roof before he shoved his hands into his pockets. His face became passive, a mask, a shield, the one he used on business calls and during luncheons with shareholders in his fathers companies. “So that’s what we’re doing now, huh? Kissing other people in front of each other?”

You could feel your frustration rising to the surface, bubbling and simmering and ready to explode out of you. “Why shouldn’t we? You said it yourself, we’re not together. I’m not your girlfriend.”

Steve avoided the question, eyes flashing instead and he swiped a hand over his face, through his hair. “Honey, please, like you wouldn't throw a fit if I took someone out to dinner, hm? If you found out I’d been taking someone else to nice restaurants and—”

“How do I know that’s not happening already!” You shot back, almost too loud. Mr and Mrs Lewinsky were walking arm and arm to their Mercedes, glancing over to the corner you car was tucked into. Thank god it was dark. You turned back to Steve, face heated. “You leave, like all the time. You’re gone for days and weeks, all over the world with villas and hotel rooms and penthouse apartments. You expect me to believe you don’t have a girl in every city? There’s not another me waiting for you on your living room couch in New York? Monaco? Italy? France? Oh, I’m sorry, do you maybe let them into your bed?”

Steve swore, looking around the parking lot as more people started to flood out now that dinner was over. Valets were moving cars down to the door and you could hear the voice of Frederick bidding guests goodbye. He held his hand out, “give me your keys.”

You stared at him, face screwed up. “What?”

“I said,” Steve repeated calmly, “give me your keys and get in the car.”

You scoffed, “no, I’m not going anywhere with you. And you’re not driving my fucking car.”

“I’m not having this conversation here,” Steve muttered and his voice was annoyed. “Either get in and let me drive or I’m marching you across the lot to my own car and you can wave to your boss at the same time.”

Annoyance pricked at your skin, a thousand needles of anger that made your back stiffen and your eyes narrow. “You drive like a fucking formula one wannabe,” you hissed, but still you threw your keys at his chest and marched round to the passenger seat, not caring to see if he caught them or not. “You fuck up my wheels, you’re buying me new alloys, Steve.”

Steve threw himself into the driver's seat and laughed meanly, lifting the bouquet of roses and throwing them into the backseat. Petals scattered everywhere. He slammed the door with the same amount of aggression as you did and once you were seated, he turned to you and smiled too sweetly. “Honey, I’ll buy you a new goddamn car, okay? Put your seatbelt on.”

You sat, stubborn, arms crossed and staring out the window. Your seatbelt remained unfastened. Steve revved the engine and despite the headlights stopping them from seeing who was behind the wheel of the beat up old Volkswagen, they were still staring.

“Stop it,” you hissed. “Just, get us out of here, god.”

“Seatbelt,” Steve repeated. You didn’t move and he tutted. “Where did my good girl go, huh?” He leaned over you and you remained passive, even when his breath was on your jaw and his hand slid around your hip as he did the belt for you. “You used to be so good at doing what you were told.”

“I’m not your girl,” you reminded him, smiling in a way that was anything but friendly. You felt dead behind the eyes, nothing but annoyance when you looked at Steve right then. “Remember?”

Steve grunted, swearing under his breath as he pulled away too fast and the wheels screeched as he sped out of the clubhouse parking lot. He hit sixty on the country roads at the back of Hawkins, screaming past the lake before he pulled off the road, just as you were ready to tell him off. He parked up in an empty lot, nothing but dirt and trees and a view of the water tower in the distance.

“There’s no other girls,” he said, breaking the silence. It was easier not to yell in the dark, in the closeness of the front of the car, where everything felt intimately softer than before.

“What?” You scrunched your face, mostly in disbelief as you tried to recall what you had yelled at him before he drove your car away from the scene.

“There aren’t any girls in other cities. There’s no one fucking waiting for me in Monaco, or, or Cannes, or L.A, no one, okay?”

You scoffed, disbelieving and you unclipped your seatbelt so you could lean against the door, facing him. Steve was still gripping the wheel with one hand, another swiping tiredly over his face, but for what it was worth, he looked sincere. But still, annoyance and the lingering feeling of rejection clawed in your stomach, an awful, ugly thing that made you sneer.

“Whatever, you really expect me to believe that? The front page of the Hawkins Post ran a damn article about how your new yacht had a mirrored ceiling in one of the bedrooms.” You laughed meanly, sadly, hoping your voice didn’t crack. “Okay, Hugh Hefner, excuse me if I don’t buy your bullshit.”

Steve groaned again, a long suffering thing and he pulled at his sweater sleeves, rolling them up his forearms until his watch face glinted in the light of the moon. “Fine, okay, yeah, I used to! Is that what you wanted to hear?”

No, it wasn’t.

“Had a girl for each damn arm, alright? But I haven’t— I haven’t—” Steve swallowed and you watched the harsh way his Adam’s apple bobbed, the furrow in his brow deepen. He didn’t look at you when he said, “I haven’t been with anyone else since you.”

It was a surprise, that was for sure. And what was even more startling, was the fact that you believed him, you truly did. Gone was the businessman facade, the smooth tone of voice that made you call him Mr Harrington. Instead there was a young man in front of you who was doing his best to make you understand.

“I don’t do relationships, honey, you knew that,” Steve said and he sounded almost sad. “I don’t kiss girls and hope they fall in love with me, I don’t bring them home and take to my bed and let them believe we’ll wake up together in the morning and fuckin’ cuddle.”

You blinked away tears, angry, upset, frustrated tears that burned the corners of your eyes. You sniffed, annoyed, venomous. “Fine. I’m far from declaring my undying adoration for you Steve, don’t worry. But you don’t then get to decide who I get to kiss if you don’t wanna do it yourself.”

Steve stiffened then, turning to you with an angry flash in his eyes and hard set to his jaw. He narrowed his gaze at you and shook his head. “Don’t test me, honey.”

You scoffed, defiant. “Whatever. Take me home, you can walk back to your car.”

“I’m not done talking,” Steve frowned and he couldn’t believe it when you simply laughed and got out of the car. He jumped out after you, bewildered at the sight of you walking through mud and the littering of fallen leaves in your clubhouse uniform, heels and all. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Walking,” you shot back, “what does it look like!”

“Get in the damn car,” Steve said your name and it sounded like a warning, “it’s pitch fuckin’ black out here.”

You didn’t turn around though, arms crossed right across your chest because you’d left your coat in your locker like an idiot. “Then I’ll find a pay phone, call for a ride. Maybe Eddie will come get me.” It was a cheap blow, but it did exactly what it was supposed to.

The sound of heavy feet marching up behind you, a hand on your arm to stop you from moving and then Steve was in front of you, face scrunched in anger, in frustration. He held your shoulders, slipped his wide hands down the length of your arms until he eased them from your chest and held your fingers between his.

“What do you want me to do, huh?” Steve asked, his voice a little louder than it had been earlier. He seemed to unravel slightly, a panic in his tone that you’d never heard before. “I— I take you out, I treat you good, right? But you presents ‘n’ pretty things, fuckin’ flowers and shoes and dresses and take you to restaurant openings, parties and, and—”

“I don’t want any of that, Steve!” You yelled, eyes wide. You felt too hot despite the cold night. “I never wanted any of that! I didn’t ask for it.” You blew out a breath but you didn’t drop his hands. “I appreciated it, all of it, I did. I do. But I didn’t need any of that! I enjoyed being with you.”

Steve shook his head at you, lips parted and a look of confusion on his face. Like he’d never been told such a thing before. “So, so what? You want Eddie? None of that, but you want Eddie, is that it?”

You huffed, head thrown back in exasperation and you counted to three, staring at the stars blinking back at you in the night sky and you wondered what you were doing here, you wondered what cruel twist of fate led you to sit down with Steve Harrington that night in the lounge.

“No,” you eventually said, calmer than you’d sounded before. “No, I don’t want Eddie. God, Steve, I wanted you, alright? This whole time, just you. Not your money, or your cars or your houses or anything else. Just you. I wanted to hold your hand and go on dates. Somewhere stupid and lame like the movies, or, or a drive through for a cheap burger and shake. I wanted you to kiss me goodnight and kiss me good morning and maybe, I don’t know, have sex with me on a mattress like a normal couple.”

You sniffed, willing away the tears that came with your speech. You weren’t prepared to cry over a man who didn’t want you the way you wanted him. But you watched Steve’s expression fall, a crumpled thing that made him look young and boyish. He dropped your hands only to move closer and cup your face instead, his thumb soothing over your bottom lip like he could will your upset away. You watched his gaze fall to your mouth, following the movements his thumb made across the seam of your lips like he wanted to put his against yours. His lips parted and he looked pained.

“I’m not asking you to fucking marry me, Steve, but god, why won’t you at least kiss me? Am I that much of a throw away toy for you that you won’t even—”

“Because if I kiss you, I’ll fucking fall in love with you, okay!” Steve barked out, sudden and rushed and panicked sounding. He closed his eyes and blew out a breath, letting his hands fall to your neck, his head falling forward. “God.”

You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t.

“You don’t think I know I can get any girl I want?” Steve laughed and it sounded powerful, it sounded like money. “Honey, I walked into the club that day and saw your pretty face and knew I was fucked.” Steve lifted his head so you could see him again, lips parted in surprise at his admission but he just smiled. He brought a hand back to your cheek, smoothed a thumb over the apple of it, down the line of your jaw. “So I told myself I could just have some with you, see how good you looked without that uniform on, maybe spoil you a little and whatnot.”

“You’re a pig,” you told him but you didn’t move away.

“I know,” Steve shrugged. “Wasn’t looking for a wife honey, I just loved the way you got all huffy with me, how sweet you’d get when I got my hands on you.” Steve dragged his thumb down your neck, pressed lightly and watched the way you tilted your chin up for him. “You’re just so fucking pretty.”

“But then you had to get under my skin didn’t you? Thought about you all the goddamn time and couldn’t look at any other girl without seeing your face instead.” Steve tsked, walked you backwards until you were against the side of your car and pressed against him. “Hated it at first, you know. Tried to stay away for longer than I needed to, but shit, got back into town and went straight to the club to see you. There you were, pretty as ever and chewing me out for being gone too long, callin’ me Mr Harrington like you knew it would get me so fuckin’ hot for you.”

Steve grinned when you whined, a knee jerk response to the way he was sliding a hand around your upper thigh, up under the hem of your dress and your head hit the door of your car with a dull thud. “Ate at Michelin star restaurants all ‘round the world, honey, but I’ve never tasted anything as good as you, you know that?” He was on your throat now, mouthing up it, licking a line along your neck until he could nip at your jaw. “Want you, all the time. Just you. It drives me fucking insane and I dunno what to do.”

You felt the fight leave you and you hated yourself for it, feeling weaker every time Steve put his mouth on your skin and his nose was pressed to your cheek now, one hand in your hair and the other squeezing at the dough do your ass under your dress, pulling up the hem of it to expose you to the cool air and it was all filthy. It was all exactly why you entered into this whole situation in the first place. Steve Harrington - money and family name or not - made you feel like you were on fucking fire.

So you grabbed at him, tried to fight back in other ways, with fingers in his hair so you could tug him down and let him latch his mouth to your neck. He scraped his teeth along the column of it, groaning when you pulled meanly. Steve swore, licking over the bruise he’d marked you with, a pink-red bloom on your skin that would remind you of him even days later. His nose bumped yours as he leaned down to you, crowding you against the car and up against his chest and you were panting, waiting for it, feeling the way he let his nose graze yours, a teasing back and forth that left his mouth hovering over yours.

“Get in the back,” Steve whispered and it was a quiet order, a soft demand, one that you knew you’d bend to because you were soaked, clit pulsing against the lace of your underwear, and shit, Steve knew that too.

But it didn’t mean you weren’t going to make him work for it.

“No,” you argued back. You didn’t mean it, this was foreplay. This was everything that got Steve a little hot under the collar, the way you played pretend and tried to get your own way. “You can fuck me here, ‘gainst the door.”

Steve laughed and he pressed the sound into your cheek, teeth against your skin and he pushed a kiss there, a smattering of them as his hands went back under your dress and he pulled down your underwear with the tips of his fingers. He let them fall to the ground, not bothering to pick them up.

“Get in the car, honey. Front or back, you decide, but either way you’re gonna ride me, okay?” Steve told you and that big, bad businessman voice was back, the one that made your toes curl and your cunt ache. Sweet, syrupy, demanding. He brought a hand between your thighs and cupped you, groaning at the heat and the slick that coated his fingers as he swept them through your folds. “She’s missed me,” he cooed, not asking but telling. Like it was a fact.

“This is the last time,” you told him and it felt like you were trying to tell yourself that too. “We don’t want the same things, fuck—” you were cut off on a gasp when Steve circled your clit, his gaze heavy and dark as he leaned in and let his forehead touch yours. “S’all gonna end in a mess.”

“In the car, honey,” Steve reminded you, neither agreeing or arguing with your words. There wasn’t any point. You both knew this wasn’t the end. “C’mon, be a good girl for me.”

So you stepped out of your underwear and left them lying, like some sick white flag, a symbol of surrender as you pushed Steve away and opened the back door, sliding over the seats as Steve joined you. The door clicked shut and silence took over, the dark and heavy kind that came with the late night, the one that carried a special type of tension and it filled the whole space, it fizzed and crackled in the air between you and it made you fucking breathless.

You watched with a tight chest as Steve sat back in the middle seat, already looking wrecked, his hair a mess from your greedy fingers. He spread his legs as much as he could in the tight space and he nodded to his lap, where you could already see the outline of his dick pressed under the denim. “Sit,” he said.

Not feeling as ready to argue anymore, you listened to the throbbing between your legs and obeyed, the top of your head grazing the car roof as you slid onto Steve’s lap, thighs spread over his in a way that made you burn that white-blue type of hot, because your dress was too short and your underwear was still outside. He could see everything when you looked down, hem of your uniform flirting too high, the dirty spread of you on display. Even in the low light he could see you shine, wet and ready, all for him.

But Steve kept his hands on the seats, practically lounging as he tilted his head back to look at you from where you were perched on top of him. He studied you, like a piece of art he was ready to buy. His eyes found yours before his gaze dropped to your nose, your cheeks, the line of your jaw, the slope of your neck. Then he found your lips, parted and wanting, the tip of your tongue peeking from between as if you were just dying for something to taste.

Maybe his fingers, you liked that. The heavy feel of them on your tongue so you could suck on them while he fucked you slow. Maybe his neck, right where it met his shoulder, that almost always bruised piece of skin that you bit down on when you came, riding Steve’s cock somewhere you shouldn’t and you had to keep quiet. Maybe you wanted his dick, too big to take all of it, but the stretch of your jaw and the hot slide of it over your tongue made you rock your hips against nothing, especially when Steve was feeling extra sweet and swept his hands over your face when you sucked him off, thumbing at the corners of your full mouth as he told you how pretty you looked.

But he offered none of those. No. Instead, he cleared his throat and asked, “what do you want?”

You looked at him, a question mark on your face, just able to see the shine of his eyes and the strong lines of his nose and jaw in the dark. His hands remained by his sides. “What?”

Steve smiled, just a small thing. “I said, what do you want?”

“You,” you answered shyly, only after a beat or two of quiet. You kept it deliberately vague, leaving it to the boy to decipher if that meant sex or more. Or both. “I want you, Steve.”

“You don’t want my money,” he said, and it wasn’t a question. He knew that already. “Not interested in where I could take you, what I could buy you. No,” Steve's voice grew warmer, softer, fond. “Told you before, didn’t I? I know my girl just wants fucked.”

You squirmed, nodding. Because if this was the last time, you’d make sure you enjoyed it. But then Steve did something even more unexpected. He let his hands settle on your thighs, still a little cold from being outside and you hissed at the slide of them going upupup. He didn’t touch your cunt though, didn’t let his fingers play with you like he usually did.

“C’mere,” he asked instead. “Close your eyes, yeah?”

Your brows stitched together at his request. You were hardly a stranger to blindfolds and surprises, but this didn’t seem like the time or place.

“You trust me?” Steve whispered and his gaze was on your lips, waiting.

It didn’t take you long to nod, because yes, despite it all, despite Steve’s issues with… commitment, you did trust him. You believed him about the other girls, about everything.

“Good girl. Close your eyes,” Steve asked again and you did.

The car seemed smaller with one sense gone. Eyes shut and Steve so near. You could feel his warmth, the way he moved into you a little more, closer than before until his breath was fanning over your mouth and chin and his nose was bumping yours. Your stomach tumbled.

“I can’t promise you anything,” he whispered into you. You could feel his lips moving, a barely there ghost against your own. His touch felt like a secret. “I don’t know how— how to be someone’s boyfriend. I’ve never done that. But I can try, if you’ll let me.”

You weren’t sure when your own hands had moved but they were fisting the front of Steve’s sweater. The letters for Harvard crushed in your palms and you were holding on for dear life.

“You said this was the last time,” Steve murmured and you wanted to open your eyes, you wanted to stare him down and challenge him but you did as he asked. You kept your eyes closed. “Is this the last time, baby?”

Baby.

“Or are you gonna give me a chance? I’ll do my best for you, I swear, I’ll try,” Steve’s mouth was moving over your cheek, kisses pressed there between each word until he was mouthing along your jaw and chin and you were weak, sitting on top of him and feeling like you could melt. “I’ll try for you, honey, don’t wanna lose you. Don’t want you with someone else.”

He was talking faster now, like there was an urgency there that wasn’t before and his hands were skimming up from your thighs to squeeze at your waist before his palms were cupping your jaw and pulling you to him. His lips touched yours, only just and you gasped like you’d been burned. Steve kept you there, panting hard, his own eyes closed now and his brow furrowed.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered and his voice cracked. Gone was the businessman. He smelled like mint toothpaste and cologne, like sunscreen. “We can stop this here and I’ll let you go and we can pretend we never met, if that’s what you want.”

You only clung to him tighter, one hand trailing blindly up his neck until you could pull at the longer hairs there and hold him. You made a noise of protest, tears lining your lashes as you tried to squeeze your eyes shut tighter so they’d stay in. You shook your head, nose brushing Steve’s, lips moving over his so, so briefly.

“I don’t want to stop.”

You weren’t sure what you thought your first kiss with Steve Harrington would be like. You’d thought about it a lot, sure. But it was usually in the heat of the moment, when he was inching inside of you, hips slapping against your own, your fingers tight in his hair and whispering filthy things to each other. You thought he’d kiss you like that, hard and fast and messy, with a dirty lick of his tongue. But Steve moved slowly, almost shy. He hesitated as he brought his thumb over your cheek, a brief touch before he was closing the gap and meeting your lips with his.

It was slow, careful. Soft. A gentle thing and Steve exhaled shakily, his breath fanning over your cheek as he tilted his head and let you press closer. His lips parted, tongue swiping over yours as the kiss deepened and when you let out a soft noise of appreciation, the boy groaned and his hands fell to your waist, squeezing and pulling you closer still.

Once he started, it was like he couldn’t stop.

Steve pulled away only briefly for you both to suck in a breath, his lips finding yours again until the kiss turned into the kind you’d thought about, a messy, dirty thing that had you whining into his open mouth, tugging at his hair until he let you swallow each groan. Steve’s eyes were closed when he spoke, chest heaving, words a low, rough rasp and his hands were under your dress now, fingertips skimming up the inside of your thighs until you were squirming.

“Want it, honey? Yeah?” Steve was mouthing over your jaw, kissing at your cheek as you panted, pulling at his belt buckle until you could free his cock from his boxers. He sounded drunk, wrecked. “That’s it, good girl, c’mon, take it. S’all yours.”

Steve let his head fall back, resting on the back seat of the car, eyes hooded as he watched you. You didn’t waste any time, pulling at the button of his jeans until you had enough room to free his cock. He was already hard, leaking for you, his breath hitching when you wrapped a small hand around him and pumped once, twice. You swiped a thumb over the tip, dragged the slick back down the length of him and leaned in, intent on making Mr. Steve fucking Harrington, business man, millionare, poker winner, car collector, fall apart for you.

Your nose slid against and your bottom lip brushed his, a teasing thing that you managed to not give into, even when Steve's lips chased yours. He’d made you wait months for a kiss, he could wait another minute or two. You pumped his cock again, fisting it a little tighter, the way you’d learned that he’d liked. He was quick to pant into your mouth, lips catching yours when he titled his chin up for you.

“Tell me it’s mine,” you coaxed, voice low and sweet, just the way Steve loved to speak to you. You palmed his cock, voice sugar. “Tell me this is mine.”

Steve’s hands swept up your thighs, thumbs pressing into the skin, grip bordering on too tight, a possessive touch. He was breathing heavily, the windows in the car starting to steam up, condensation running tracks down the glass. “S’yours,” he slurred, drunk sounding, softer than ever. “S’your cock, honey, promise.”

You couldn’t wait any longer, rutting yourself against Steve’s thigh as you touched him, foreheads pressed together, lips catching against each other and it pulled a moan from both of you when you raised up on your knees. Dirty, wet noises filled the car as you ran the head of his cock through your folds and Steve dragged your dress up, pushing the material over your hip so he could watch you sink down onto him, taking every inch.

He helped you bounce, up and down, up and down before you started a lazy roll of your hips, grinding down against the boy until you were pulling on his hair and whining into the crook of his neck. It was all too much and Steve’s hand grabbed at the nape of your neck, hand fisting in your own hair, bordering on too tight but he brought your face back to his, eyes half lidded as he gazed at you and pleaded: “shit, honey, kiss me? Kiss me, please, fuck-- m’gonna come.”

His neediness made you groan, a pitchy, breathy noise that Steve soon swallowed, your lips melting between his as he caught you in a kiss, open mouthed and possessive, teeth and tongues as he came. His hips bucked up as you rode him harder and the boy let go of your hair to cup your jaw, his free hand falling to rub at your clit with two fingers, white hot pleasure shooting up your spine. You fell into him, letting Steve catch you and you kissed him, eyes glassy, squeezed shut, your mouth on his as you both came hard. You felt Steve’s cock twitch, spilling into you as he kissed you, chest heaving against yours and as your hips slowed, so did his kisses, softer, kinder.

“You okay?” he breathed, breath fanning over your lips, your cheeks, your gaze blurry and unfocused. “Baby, you with me?”

Baby. Babybabybaby.

You nodded, nose knocking against his but you didn’t dare pull away. You didn’t want to. And by the looks of things, Steve wasn’t ready to let you go either. His hands soothed over your hair, pushing back the stray strands that clung to your damp forehead, your warm cheeks. He was still inside of you, softening only slightly, a mix of you both spilling over your thighs. It was dirty, filthy, it was the most tender thing you’d experienced with him.

“So good,” Steve breathed, cheeks flushed, his eyes shining. He looked drunk, he looked as gone as you felt, his hands roaming over you, touching every piece of bare skin he came across, palming greedily at your hips, your thighs, your ass. He dotted a line of kisses from your neck to your cheek, nosing there until you lifted your chin for him and kissed his lips, sighing as you did. “So fuckin’ good for me, all the time, huh? My girl, fuck, you’re so pretty, so, so pretty.”

You lazed against him, soaking up his touch, his words, the insane feel of his lips over your skin, your throat, chasing your lips until you pressed into him, opening your mouth when he did, tongues brushing over each other in languid strokes. Steve kissed like he fucked, like he wanted you to feel every part, like he wanted you to remember it for days.

“Come home w’me,” he murmured into your lips, never leaving them, never stopping his kisses. Steve whispered between words, hummed happily when your hands clasped his cheeks, when your fingers trailed over the stubble on his jaw. “Come back to mine, please. We can talk ‘bout everything. I’ll make you breakfast in the morning, I’ll wake up beside you. Please.”

Your heart stopped at the idea of it all. The intimacy you hadn’t been given yet. The thought of Steve talking to you about something as serious and long term as a relationship. No dropping you home after five orgasms, kissing the back of your hand as he dropped you at your apartment at three am. No running off to an airport, no flights, no meetings, no business calls to interrupt.

“You can’t cook,” is what you said, voice muffled by his shoulder, the way your face was buried in the crook of his neck.

Steve scoffed, laughing even though you could hear the nerves there. He nosed at your cheek until you emerged, a hand wrapping gently around your neck, thumb pushed to the underside of your chin so you’d meet his gaze and the sincerity there took your breath away. You were still on his lap, his softening cock still inside of you but neither of you made the move to unravel from the other.

“I mean it,” he whispered and in the quiet of the night it was like you could hear his heartbeat. A thumpthumpthump that rattled the air between you, but fuck, maybe that was your own. “Come home with me, honey. I wanna-- I wanna make this right.”

-------

The next morning, Steve woke you up with his lips on your cheek, a soft, cautious thing that you leaned into even half asleep. Your bare chest pressed to his, your legs stretching out alongside the boy’s. You turned, arms needling around Steve’s neck so you could find his lips with yours, mouths searching, needy, suddenly desperate even with half closed eyes.

“Morning,” you murmured.

“Mornin’, honey,” Steve whispered back and you couldn’t see with your closed eyes but the boy was smiling, soft and proud and fond.

You were right, the night before, in the car. Steve didn’t cook. So after a shared shower where you let Steve hook your leg over his shoulder and kiss at your cunt until you came on his tongue - his eyes on your the entire time, his nose squished all pretty against your pussy as he came in his own fist, the waterfall shower raining down on you both - Steve took you out for breakfast.

Dressed in a pair of his running shorts that you had to roll up and one of his hoodies that had a tiny Yves Saint Laurent logo on the chest, you were relieved to find a pair of sneakers in your trunk. You’d mumbled that you’d looked ridiculous, but Steve had just used your embarrassment to kiss you again, hands on your cheeks and pulling you to him in the driveway.

He got to take his car instead of yours, only because you got to choose where to eat.

So Steve Harrington drove you both from his three story townhouse in his shiny BMW to a Mom and Pop’s just out of town. He held your hand across the parking lot, held the door open for you and plucked at his sweater collar to pull you in for a kiss over the table, red leather seats sticking to his expensive jeans. But he didn’t say anything, didn’t complain, didn’t mutter about missing out on eggs benedict and caviar at the clubhouse because here, he got to kiss you all he wanted.

And it was worth it, to watch the way you softened for him, feet against his under the table, sharing a strawberry milkshake that didn’t really go with the hashbrowns and bacon you’d ordered. It was worth it, to leave his pager at home, to ignore the incessant beeping, emails pinging in his office about flights, meetings, business deals, money, shares, stocks.

Steve was realising it was all worth it, to have you.

I'll be usin' for the rest of my life

Three Years Later.

The sway of the boat made you feel weightless. A miracle really, considering how heavy you actually felt. The italian sun warmed your skin, mostly bare from your bikini, straps slipping down your shoulders as you lay flat on a lounger, sunglasses covering your eyes from the harsh blue skies above.

The water was the same colour, the gentle lap of the ocean on the sides making you sleepy. The bustle of the city was barely heard, Monaco in the distance as the yacht bobbed just outside of the harbour. Despite its size, The Smart Girl hardly had anyone on board. You were on the deck, catching the last of the day’s sun, with a few staff members milling around. And Steve? Steve was in one of the rooms he’d made into his office from home, a big oak desk taking up most of the space and he’d sit for hours taking calls, pouting at you from the open door as he tried to coax you in to sit on his lap. You’d always refuse, stretching out on your lounger, bikini top riding up, giving him a show until he could string enough words together to make an excuse to whatever big shot millionaire was on the other end of the line.

“There’s my baby.”

The lounger dipped as Steve pushed a knee to the cushion, crowding over you, leaning in to greet you with a kiss, tasting like aperol and oranges. You hummed into him, salt on both of your lips from the sun, the sea. Steve kissed your cheek too, moving down to nuzzle at your neck as his hand skimmed over your belly, the slight swell of it making your red bikini bottoms stretch out.

“And my other baby,” Steve cooed cupping your growing tummy.

“You said an hour, tops,” you complained but there wasn’t any heat behind it. It was hard to be annoyed about Steve leaving you to your own devices when the Mediterranean sea was rocking you to sleep. “No more business, right?”

Steve smirked at your bossiness, nodding as he leaned back down to ghost some kisses along your shoulder, he nipped at your jaw and hummed. “No more business, honey. M’all yours.”

The trip was supposed to be a babymoon of sorts, even though you were only a few months into your pregnancy and you were sure Steve would whisk you off somewhere else warm and sunny as the months passed. But he’d promised no business, no meetings and when the chance to join a conference call with the owner of the city's most prestigious club arose, Steve caved.

“I’ll buy you somethin’ pretty to make up for it,” he’d told you and you’d tried to act huffy but after three years together, the man saw right through you.

“How’d the call go?” You asked him, eyeing him greedily as he popped some buttons on his shirt, the white linen falling open to show off sunkissed skin, the gold chain around his neck.

Steve slipped his sunglasses from his pocket onto his nose, made sure to wink at you over the frame of them so you knew he saw your appreciative gaze. He stretched out next to you, one of the staff members appearing - Paul - with a tray of lemon water and glasses as he got comfy. “It went well,” he smiled his thanks to Paul and gave you a class, coaxing you to drink up. “We scheduled another call for when we’re back home to iron out some details. I told him my pretty wife would have me thrown overboard if I took any longer.”

Steve grinned when you frowned. “I wouldn’t do that,” you mumbled. “I’d just yell at you for a bit.”

Steve leaned in, still smiling, nosing along your jawline as his hand plucked at the flimsy strap of your bikini. “You know that would just get me all hot, right?”

You rolled your eyes and tried to hide your smile in his neck, tipping it back to let Steve kiss the skin there. He still smelled like he did when you first met him, the same expensive cologne, sunscreen and the Italian countryside. “You make me sound so bossy,” you murmured, meeting him for a kiss.

“You are,” Steve whispered, his hand back on your tummy, his thumb running over the bump in soft circles. “M’whipped, remember?” He held up his other hand, the band on his ring finger glinting in the sun.

“You complained when Eddie said it,” you teased.

“That’s ‘cause Eddie’s a dick,” Steve shot back but it was light hearted. “Speaking of, I promised him we’d meet him for dinner when we got back. I know it’s not your favourite but—”

“The clubhouse?” You groaned, pouting. “Really?”

“He loves the steak tartare there, honey, I don’t know what to tell you.”

“I was fired from there—” you reminded him, voice surly.

“You’re a member there,” Steve quipped back. He kissed your palm, over your knuckles, lips grazing the diamond on your finger.

“—after my boss caught you going down on me in the ladies changing rooms,” you continued, cheeks still hot at the memory even if it was years ago. You’d never forget the expression on Frederick’s face. “I can’t look that man in the eye, never mind order dinner from him.”

“Fun times,” Steve smirked. “Don’t you love being able to click your fingers at the man who made your life hell? Order the most expensive champagne with all your money?”

You whined, a fake complaint as Steve manhandled you into his lap, letting you lie between his legs, your back resting his chest. He was warm from the sun, strong, solid. “I don’t click my fingers at anyone, Harrington. It’s rude. And it’s not my money, I’m unemployed. I’m basically a leech,” you pouted up at him, all faux dramatics.

Steve snorted at your words before leaning down, skimming his lips over your hairline, his hands, wide and warm, cupping the swell of your tummy. “You’re not unemployed, you’re on maternity leave. And studying. No woman of mine is working while she’s growing our baby,” he kissed your nose when you tilted your chin up to him, smiling. “And what’s mine is yours, Harrington,” he shot back.

“Your woman?” You raised your brows at his words.

“My favourite one,” Steve whispered. He was still all charm, even after the years had passed. His voice grew softer then, fingers trailing up your ribs. “Can’t wait to take you home - both of you - get settled, build a crib, paint a nursery.”

“You’re not building a crib,” you laughed, eyes shining. It was easy, it was wonderful, being this is love. This happy. “Have you even held a hammer before, Steve?”

He responded by nipping at your neck, enticing a squeal from you, a choked laugh. “You’re incredibly rude, Mrs Harrington, I’ll let you know I have, actually.”

You turned in his arms, kneeling between his thighs and you watched as his eyes darkened, gaze trailing over the way your breasts pushed out, the way your thighs pressed themselves together. “That’s not important,” he answered tartly and he grinned when you snorted.

The new house back in Indiana was modest, by Steve’s standards. But he’d let you choose, a family home that was built in the 1800’s with big, bay windows, original cornicing and a fireplace in each bedroom. A perfect family home, with more rooms in it than you could’ve ever imagined having.

It had been easier than you’d thought, to get here. With Steve Harrington, married and with a baby on the way. Not that you’d expected it, not back then. But weeks turned into months and months turned into years, your first anniversary sailing by without much issue. There were arguments, forlorn phone calls when Steve left for business and you had to work, shouting matches when the boy came home and tried to get you to quit work altogether, ‘cause you didn’t need a wage when you had him, right?

But he was quick to compromise, when it came to you. Kissing away your upset, swapping expensive gifts for genuine apologies, your favourite flowers that came by the handful instead of the boxes of hundred dollar bouquets made by someone else. Was he smug about it when the job at The Lake House came to an end? Sure. Too smug, maybe, considering he gave a half assed apology to Frederick with your lipstick trailed across his cheek and jaw. But he supported you - celebrated you - when you got a new position in a paralegal’s office, picking back up your textbooks that you once had to abandon.

There was a big bed to share now, a wardrobe that held both your clothes, suits and silk dresses, your old sweaters, Steve’s knitwear that was practically all yours. Your toothbrush next to his, your vinyls next to his record player, a stocked fridge with all the ingredients for his favourite meals, ready for you to reach him how to cook. There was sex, holidays, hotels, more sex, nights on the sofa with blankets and movies, a diamond, Steve in the driver's seat in the parking lot of that Mom ‘n’ Pops diner, the ring clutched between his shaky fingers as he told you how much he loved you. A pregnancy test, staring back at you both from the bathroom vanity, a year after the wedding in Cannes, the honeymoon in the Maldives.

Unplanned, yes? Unexpected, definitely. Did it make you both overwhelmingly excited? More than you could express.

Steve took your chin in his hand, pulling you in, thumb rubbing over your bottom lip, his eyes growing softer when you kissed at it. “Are you happy?” he whispered.

“With you?” you answered, smiling. “Always.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington oneshot

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tiredmamaissy · 1 year

Text

Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Chapter Four

An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's creator @zestys-stuff.

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)

Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, profanity, age gap, sexual tension, size difference/kink, praise kink, fingering, alcohol consumption/drunk character, mating, oral sex (both receiving), p in v, virginity loss, blood, marking/biting, let me know if i forgot anything?

Word Count: 15k (i think, i dont even know at this point)

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: Guys, I'm so sorry this one took so long. I hope it's worth the wait. I tried to proofread this but the app keeps crashing and I lost my progress thrice. So forgive me for any typos and errors. I'll probably go through it with fresh eyes tomorrow and fix them. Enjoy 🤍🤍

Synopsis: Your family seeks uturu with the Metkayina in the village of Awa’atlu. You have a difficult time adjusting, and are assigned your own special teacher, Ralak.

<- Previous Next ->

“Not today, tahni. I must get you back, now.”

----

You protest, not wanting to go back to the prison with your less-than-understanding father and his two soldiers keeping an eye on your every move. You try to convince Ralak to have a conversation with your father, but he insists that won’t do anything. Jake is a man of action, and he would need to prove himself to Toruk Makto – prove that he is worthy of mating with his daughter.

To do things ‘the right way’.

All it took for you to behave was him grabbing your hand, pressing it against his warm, half-hard cock while he looks you dead in the eye.

“Tame Tsurak. And this is yours to do whatever you please with.”

“Oh?” Your lips pucker as you husk the word, brow raising in astonishment.

Of course, Ralak would turn this into a lesson of some sort, saying something along the lines of you being a fast learner and would only need a day to learn. It was laughable really – him saying that you need a week to learn the sign language of his people but less than a day to tame a skimwing.

He clicks for his swimwing, watching as it glides quickly through the water towards him. He takes a few steps back, making space for the large creature to come to a standstill. Ralak approaches it cautiously and respectfully, hand reaching behind him to grip and stroke the length of his kuru.

You’re only now just getting a good look at his kuru, it’s much longer than yours given the stature of this man. His tendrils are a deep pink, very composed and calm, much like Ralak himself. They dance slowly, sporadic movements gaining direction once they sense the kuru of the Tsurak in proximity.

“Bond carefully. Tsurak are not like ilu.” Ralak says, pupils constricting momentarily as the tendrils slowly entwine with one another, making tsaheylu with the scaley, large beast. It shivers vigorously as their breaths synchronize, two beasts becoming one. Ralak takes a sharp breath before swinging his leg over the creature, settling himself graciously on its back. “They deem if the rider is worthy.”

“Oh. I see...” You nod slowly, nerves fraying from the thought of not being worthy enough to tame one.

Ralak motions you to mount the Tsruak, patting it’s back behind him. “Come.” He holds your hand, helping you on before wrapping your arms around his waist. “Hold tight.”

With that, you’re off. The beast glides easily, and slowly through the water, never going underneath. Ralak spends the ride teaching you about the techniques to apply when bonding, mounting, and riding a skimwing. Even how to hold the harness properly, so you’re not pulled off by a water drag.

“Most important. When you dive back in, maintain a good position.” He rambles, demonstrating the diving movement with his hand, fingers pointing downwards.

You listen, but you’re focus is primarily on the way his waist feels in your arms. You savour the sensation, feelings of self-doubt making you think that this may be the last time you’ll touch Ralak in this way. You rest your face into the dip of his back, ear pressed into his skin as you listen to the thump of his heart.

The words echo in your head. “...to do whatever you please with.”

You could do this. You can do this. You’ll do it for him. For your mate.

Ralak slows to a halt a far distance away from your family marui pod, exchanging glares with your two older brothers. Though they were younger than Ralak, he still treats them as equals, respectfully signing ‘I see you’ to them both. Reluctantly, they return the gesture, maintaining their downward glare to the giant. Neteyam stands tall, chest puffed out to appear bigger, whilst Lo’ak’s arms are crossed over his chest, shifting his bodyweight from one leg to the other.

You scoff. Two idiots doing their idiot thing.

“We will meet again, my love.” You whisper, planting a kiss on his back before dismounting the creature to swim around to the mangrove roots.

“My tanhi.” He hums lowly, watching you swim away and climb up the root to the backside of the marui pod. He turns around, diving under the water to leave before your father’s arrival. Your brothers help you up, pushing you inside the pod by a hand on your back.

“You smell even worse.” Neteyam makes the snarky remark whilst grimacing, turning his head away from you.

“Yeah. He’s not joking, sis.” Lo’ak adds with a chuckle, leaning in to get a better whiff. He pulls back dramatically, letting out a loud ‘whoof’ as he turns his head away too.

“Ha-Ha.” You say, imitating the sound of a laugh. “Thanks guys.” You mutter sarcastically, although you really did owe them.

The sound of your father flipping back the flap of the marui averts your attention to the door. All three of you stand in formation, acknowledging the former marine’s presence. He walks past you, lips pursing into a thin line once your scent wafts past him.

“Jeez, y/n. Ya need to take a bath or something. Preferably before tomorrow ‘cause that’s when training with Tsireya starts.” He shifts his glare to his sons, patting them both on the back as he praises them for doing a good job watching you. Another scoff bubbles up your throat, prompting you to roll your eyes and find refuge behind your privacy curtain.

----

Swish. The sound of your privacy curtain being yanked aside, allowing slivers of the first rays of sunlight to shine against your cheek.

“Get up, kid. Time for your lesson with Tsireya.” Jake’s voice beats against your eardrums.

Are you fucking kidding me?

Never have you had a lesson this early. Nor have you had someone wake you up for one. And how many times did you have to speak to your father about privacy? That’s why you sat down for a week straight making these curtains. And by the way everyone keeps yanking and tugging at it, you’ll have to make another sooner than planned. You lift your head groggily, rubbing your right eye with the ball of your palm. Groans of irritation rumble up your throat as you roll over onto your side to ignore your father.

“Hey. Don’t make me come over there.” He jesters, hoping to lighten the mood.

It only makes things worse. How could he joke after locking you away and having his two watchdogs guard over you? He’s taking away the one good thing for you in this wet-land and thinks a joke will make things better?

“Leave. I’ll come out soon.” You mumble into your pillow.

Jakes brows lower in defiance for a moment, and relax when he realises that you’re just hurting. Regardless, this is what he thinks is best for you. You were still his ‘babygirl’. He takes a few steps back before turning around to walk out of the marui. Once you hear his footsteps die out, you rise from your cot and get ready for the day.

----

“Wow, y/n. You have improved so much since I last taught you!” Tsireya exclaims, surprised by your skilful movements.

“Yeah. Ralak was a good teacher.” You smile, tugging the fishnet towards you. Your lips flatten into a line when you realise how that sounds. “Not saying that you weren’t or anything.” You add quickly, staring wide eyed at Tsireya.

“It is okay.” She giggles, two dainty fingers covering her lips.

“Yeah. There’s just something about him. He’s… different.” You smile once more, slowly wrapping the fishnet around on itself, “A good different!”

“I know Ralak, y/n. He is... like a brother to me. Although we don’t talk very much...” Tsireya says, swimming towards the spears on the shore. “I am surprised you two got along for this long.”

Your brows twitch. Brother? What did she mean by that? What does she think even happened?

“I’m going to mate with him.” You blurt out, earning an astonished expression from Tsireya. “When I pass my iknimaya, of course.” You say, knowing that’s not what she’s concerned about.

“You two got along that well?” She questions, reaching for the spears.

“You could say that we confessed to each other in the heat of the moment” You mumble as you work your way to sit on the shore.

“So, why am I teaching you?” Her movements come to halt, inquisitive gaze flicking down at you.

“Dad found out. He is forbidding me from seeing him because I haven’t passed my iknimaya yet.” You twirl a strand of wet loose hair around your pointer finger, “He didn’t even care to ask about the situation. Or if I even need lessons anymore.” You shake your head, watching the hair unravel from your finger.

“I see. I think you two would be good for each other.” She shrugs, staring at the spears for a moment before throwing them back into the sand. She looks at you and smiles, “Has he taught you about our dances?”

Gaze snapping up to hers, a smile stretches your lips as your brows raise in fascination. “Dances?”

Tsireya offers her hand, and you take it, letting her help you up. “Mhm. Our way of dancing. It is very... sensual. It is said that eywa speaks through the soundwaves of the music.” She walks you over to a clearing near the shore.

Apparently, the musical instruments are sacred, some parts of it harvested from the spirit tree. And when they are played, the way of Eywa can be felt by those that listen, expressed in bodily movement – dancing. It’s movements manifest erotically, acting as a mating ritual.

It draws in the fated or desired mates of those that partake in the ritual, driving them to find one another and dance together.

“Teach me.”

----

The days go by slowly as Tsireya shows you the sinuous movements of the Metkayina. She explains that it is much like the way of water, gliding and flowing freely with the music. One must allow the music to flow through the body in waves, to slip into a trance like state for your body to sway with the rhythm.

It takes you about a week to learn all the movements. It posed to be an even more difficult task without the music, and just Tsireya’s humming. Of course, this music is only only played on the night of an iknimaya celebration.

Tomorrow is your iknimaya, and Tsireya decides it’s best to run through a few pointers on taming a tsurak. Taming one is not something you practice doing, not like an ilu. You attempt it, and if denied, it is because you have much more to learn. You may try again after further training.

“Your grip is the most important thing. Once it loosens, it is ove –”

“Girls.” The olo’eyktan’s voice booms above you, averting your attention to the three casted shadows on the shore. Your eyes trail up the silhouettes to see Tonowari, your father, and... Ralak. Your heartbeat quickens, body heating up from sensing its desired mate in proximity. You try to play it off, looking down at your knees buried in the sand.

“Father.” Tsireya shuffles to her feet, signing ‘I see you’ to the three men, acknowledging their presence.

You follow slowly after her, eyes now locked onto your feet. “I see you.” You gesture, finally lifting your gaze up to the three men.

Ralak’s brows twitch as his cold eyes trail up your body, doing their best mask his excitement from seeing you. You look beautiful – dressed in clothing native to his people, pearls embellishing your top and a string of shells sewn to the band of your tewng [loincloth]. Braided hair with bright red flowers twisted into it, his chest tightens from seeing you like this.

This is the first time you’ve seen him in a week. He looks... dishevelled. Nothing like he usually looks. Hollow eyes, body enveloped with bruises and scabbed over wounds, you can sense the fracture in his spirit. He looks so, so worn. A heated wrath simmers your blood, making you red in the face.

What have they done to you, my love? You ask him through concerned eyes, breaking your stare to seethe at Tonowari.

Jake could see the upset on your face, lips pursing into a thin line as he squints his eyes, telling you to drop the attitude. But you were vexed with him too. Did he really think you’d be an obedient little soldier? You scoff at the thought, rolling your eyes to land them back onto Ralak, who is also giving you a look.

Now that’s different.

All it takes is a quick raise of his brows and a slight shake of his head to quell your attitude. You huff a small sigh of defeat and drop your irate stare to your feet once more, holding your tongue. You wanted nothing more than to lash out at Tonowari, despite him being the olo’eytan. But you understand that this would only make matters worse.

Jake witnesses this, feeling a little embarrassed about your blatant disregard for his order and not Ralak’s. But he can’t ignore the smidge of respect he’s feeling towards him right now. To be able to handle your rebellious attitude with a simple shake of his head is impressive.

“Iknimaya is tomorrow.” Tonowari speaks, eyes drifting towards the discarded spears.

He’s clearly speaking to you, but you’re too caught up in your own head to even hear him.

“Yes, father. I am confident that she is ready.” Tsireya answers quickly, using her tail to nudge the back of your leg.

“Yes – yes sir. Your daughter taught me well.” You say a little too composed, avoiding eye contact all together.

“Good. We will be on our way then.” Tonowari nods, turning his heel to leave.

Jake follows behind him, throwing one last glare in your direction, whilst Ralak lingers for a second or two. He does one last scan of your body, before locking eyes with you. A soft smile pulls at his lips as he slowly retreats.

It’s like all the negativity bubbling in your being washes away in an instant, leaving you standing there with a dumb smile on your face. He spins around, walking nonchalantly behind the two olo’eyktans, arms tucked behind his back.

“Did he just – smile?” Tsireya asks, a little dumbfounded.

“Mhm.” You hum, smile only growing wider.

----

That night you walked home beaming, smile plastered on your face with your ears flickering wildly. It had been so long since you’d last seen him that it was so uplifting to see that sweet, sweet smile again. You haven’t felt this happy since Jake separated you two, and honestly you couldn’t bring yourself to go home and see him.

Despite your strict curfew, you find yourself alone sitting in the wet sand, watching the sun set, bright hues of red and orange lighting up the sky. You bring your knees to your chest and rest your cheek between them, thinking about tomorrow.

What if I can’t do it? You sigh, feelings of self-doubt crashing in like the waves at your feet.

“Y/n.” Jake’s voice booms behind you.

Of-fucking-course you’re going to come find me.

“What?” You mumble into your knees.

Jake’s purses his lips before letting out a small sigh, shoulders relaxing as he seats himself beside you. “Feelin’ ready for tomorrow? Not nervous, are ya?”

“Ha. Yeah. I had the best teacher in Awa’atlu.”

“Babygirl.” His voice softens as he tries to look you directly in the face. The fact that it’s been over a week, and you’re still upset tells him that he’s really hurt you.

“Not your baby anymore.” You mutter under your breath, turning your head to look the other way.

“Yes, you are... ‘nd you always will be. Even when you have your own.” He speaks gently, resting his hand on your upper back.

You shrug him off, causing his hand to retreat entirely. He reflects for a moment, on how his actions have made you feel. Has he been too harsh on you? Was the ‘tough love’ act too much? The rift that’s he’s driven between the two of you is just too thick and he must remedy it.

“Look. I’m – I’m just tryna look out for you.”

“Excuse me?” You lift your head up and look at him with an expression of disbelief. "Look out for me? Or coddle me? Cut the shit, dad. I know you’re trying to keep me from him.”

"Language!" Jake hisses, “And I am looking out for you, whether you wanna believe it or not.”

“So what? How far are you gonna go to keep me from him? Gonna make us move again? Fresh start, somewhere else?”

Jakes voice is low now, a dangerous growl as he grows frustrated with your venomous words. “Everything I do is to protect you kids. Your safety is everything to me, y/n. I just want what’s best for you.”

"Ralak is what is best for me. He's good to me. Patient with me." You croak, lump forming in your throat. "And - I love him, dad."

Jake quickly stands, letting out a scoff. "No. You don't. You barely know the guy!”

"I do. I know him more than anybody. He's a gentleman–”

“Y/n” He starts, “We’ve only been here for a few months. He’s your teacher. There’s plenty of fish in the sea. Why are you settling for the first one you meet?”

“Dad, just – stop! He’s a good person. And when I tame tsurak tomorrow... I will choose him.” Your voice fades away as you utter the last four words, heated tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Yeah. If you tame it. I didn’t even tame it myself the first try. You really think you can?” Jake spits, growing frustrated with your defiant attitude.

Ouch. You didn’t even have the words to respond to that. Your own father taking a jab at your competency, knowing it’s one of your biggest insecurities. And to instil is own personal doubt into you is on another level of petty.

And just like that, the rift grows wider.

Your bottom lip quivers, revealing the small dimples in your chin. You stare up at him glossy eyed, tears welling up so much you could almost see the way it makes your eyes glisten. His gaze softens, as if he were just hit square in the jaw with words he just uttered to you.

“Y/n, I’m s –”

You shake your head in disbelief, brows gathering so tightly it hurt. You walk past him, shoving him with your shoulder as you make your way towards your marui. You can hear him calling after you, hollering whatever things first popped up in his head that could possibly make it right.

“Babygirl, please! You know I didn’t mean it like that. Just try to see where I’m coming from!”

But you ignore him and keep it going. Slumping into your bed, you lay your head on your pillow and close your swollen, wet eyes in hopes to get some rest for your big day tomorrow. The day that would change it all.

The day of your iknimaya.

----

It wasn’t only your iknimaya today.

Much like when you tamed your ikran, you stand in a line of other younger na’vi, who have been waiting patiently for their chance to prove themselves. Eager and excited to earn their place in the clan and mate with another.

They all speak amongst themselves, whispering harshly and huddling together to hear one another. They’re discussing pointers, reviewing techniques, and sharing tips they’ve learned from the more experienced warriors. It’s a bit annoying, in all honestly. They all seemed to have a completely different motive from you. An intrinsic one.

Whereas your motivation is standing in waist deep in the water, effortlessly holding the thrashing, winged beast in place. His hands grip the harness tightly, whilst Tonowari and another warrior secures the mid and hind section of the skimwing.

You watch as the other young na’vi attempt to tame the tsurak before you. Some pass, some fail, tsurak swimming with such force that it leaves the rider disoriented. Some even begged for another chance, while others accepted their defeat with a tail between their legs.

It makes you nervous. And the more you stand and stare at the thick skinned creature, the more is registers how big it actually is. It’s enormous – the length of six na’vi. Yet Ralak holds it down firmly, arms growing veiny from the sheer grip he has on it. It writhes beneath him, prompting him to restrain the beast even further.

You’d never seen Ralak ‘in action’ before. To you, he’s this big, soft giant, patiently tolerating your less than composed attitude. A man with simple goals, and simple desires. Not this strong, war machine he has been turned into. But you can’t ignore how seeing him like this makes you feel.

A strong and competent man.

But the more the creature thrashes around in his grip, the more your shot nerves fray. Just as you feel the nerves creep their way up into your chest, tightening it with no mercy, Ralak locks eyes with you. A stoic expression, with eyes that said so much. Ocean blue eyes, telling you ‘I’m right here. You can do it. Do it for me. For my big coc-’.

“You got this, kid. I mean – y/n.” Jake’s sudden voice interrupts your... train of thought.

If you hadn’t just been eye-fucking the man he’s keeping you away from you would’ve probably warmed up to his... attempt to make things right.

You let out a loud scoff and roll your eyes before diving into the water. Your fingers pierce the surface of the water, slender body moving through the water quickly and making the lap in one breath.

Turning your head, you quickly realise why they had you so far up in the mangroves. It was a test. A breath test. But what confirmed your suspicion is the look at your fathers’ face. An expression of surprise – shocked to see you even swim much less hold your breath for the entire lap.

Did he really have that little faith in you? You shake your head in disbelief, landing your stare on the spectators – the olo’eyktans’ family and other superior hunters and warriors. All of which stood high up in the mangroves, observing your every move.

How intimidating.

You exhale slowly, hoping to steady your galloping heart, but your efforts are to no avail. It feels as if its leaping from your chest the more you near the writhing, restless beast. And the closer you get, the louder its low, deep rumbling grows.

You’re about chest-deep in the water now, bouncing on the tips of toes as you inch closer and get a better look. You scan its entire body, starting at the white caudal fin, up to its furled wings and long snout – which houses at least a hundred jutting-out, needlelike teeth. Overall, its menacing demeanour makes your stomach sink.

Shit. Can I really do this? You think, shaky hand reaching behind you for your kuru as you continue to study the beast’s tough exterior.

“Y/n.” Tonowari saying your name snaps your eyes up to him smiling down at you. “Make the bond.” He gestures over to Ralak, who’s holding tsurak’s kuru in one hand, and the harness in the other.

He can tell from your body language and the glint in your eye that you’re nervous and having doubts. It’s the way you gnaw at your bottom lip, just like you did whenever you were getting frustrated during your lessons.

You settle yourself beside him, feeling his warmth radiate off his body onto yours. It’s been so long since you’ve been this close to each other. You’re not even touching, yet it feels so good. So right. You allow yourself to sway with the current of the water so that your shoulder brushes against his arm, sending your freckles flickering in broad daylight.

His chin remains tucked into his chest, arm extended towards you with the beasts’ kuru in hand. “Remember what I said.” He mutters under his breath, low enough for only you to hear.

You glance up at him briefly, trying your best to recall what he’s said to you about tsuraks. Your brows pinch in ponder as your pink tendrils dance wildly when they near the creature’s kuru. Was it something about the bond? Or was it how to grip the harness?

Ralak leans in, pretending to bring the kuru closer to your short stature. “yours to do whatever you please with.”

Oh. That.

You recall when he pressed your hand against his half-hard cock and told you it was all yours if you tamed tsurak. Just thinking about how warm it felt in your hand ebbs away the fear you’ve harboured in your chest, replacing it with a new feeling of determination.

Trying to withhold the smile creeping up on your face, you watch as your tendrils intertwine with the tsuraks’, kurus bonding together with a quick pull. A shiver runs through the creature as it snarls and growls, and your pupils dilate and constrict, breath hiccupping as you sync together.

You can feel it’s strength – it’s prowess. The way it breathes under and out of water. The way its left wing is injured from the na’vi that kicked it when tumbling off. The frustration brewing in its stomach. The exhaustion he’s feeling.

Instinctually, your hand caresses the length of his slippery snout, razor sharp teeth grazing your darker blue skin. “tam tam, tam tam [calm; there there]” You coo quietly, sliding your hand up his snout to grip the harness tightly. To your surprise, he settles immediately, sensing your empathy towards his state.

A sense of mutual respect.

Taking this as your signal to mount him, you hoist yourself up onto his back, being extra careful not to touch his wing. You find yourself struggling, being so far out at this height was only another obstacle in your way. Without warning the tsurak sinks into the water, lowering itself for you to haul your leg over its back.

“Irayo [thank you].” You whisper through a smile, settling yourself comfortably on the woven saddle.

Finally lifting your head up, you’re met with the stare of two surprised men, and one proud man. Ralak has this smug look on his face, like he knew all along that you would be able to make the bond in this way. And that – that’s just what you needed.

The three men let go of the beast, backing away with their hands in the air, allowing you space to ride. You tighten your grip one last time – something you recall being the most important thing, and think, go.

The tsurak takes off at full speed, caudal fin swishing from side to side, providing thrust to propel you forward. The sheer force of his jerky movements has your grip loosening already, audible swoosh of his tail growing louder the more wobble side to side.

Easy. Easy.

He steadies instantly, providing you with enough time to tighten your grip and position yourself properly on his back. You’re mindful of his injured wing, grounding the heel of your non-dominant foot beside his good wing. With your other leg, you settle your knee into his back, finding balance in your own body.

The shimmying comes to a halt, leaving you gliding effortlessly through the water, swoosh of his tail steady and low. You pull up, prompting his wings to splay out, revealing their vibrant red and orange colours. Soon the whoosh of his flapping wings drowns out the noise of his caudal fin propelling you upwards and out the water.

“There you go.” You think out loud, steadying yourself mid-air.

It’s an exhilarating feeling. The cool wind in your face and the way the sun rays heat up your skin. It almost feels like your ikran. A big smile spreads across your lips as you give his gill a gentle, reassuring tap. That’s when you feel the dull ache in your left shoulder worsen.

“Tam, tam. [there, there]” You repeat, recognizing his pain. That’s your cue to prepare yourself for the hardest part – the dive. This is the part which typically ends with the force of such a plunge knocking the na’vi off it’s back. The true test.

With a quick, deep breath, you tighten your grip around the harness one last time and dive onto your stomach, hugging his lower back with your knees. You tuck your chin to your chest and brace yourself for impact. The tsurak tucks his wings flush to his sides and plunges in, long snout piercing the water’s surface with ease.

The force of the plunge is indescribable. It’s almost like the feeling you get when you plummet down the hallelujah mountains on your ikran. But more intense. The water adds extra resistance, knocking you back to the point of your knuckles almost dislocating.

Despite that, your grip remains strong as you hurtle through the water, tilting to the side to avoid the reef. The slight sting of your lungs act as your cue to make a sharp turn and head back. You ascend slowly as you dart through the water, resurfacing completely before the three men.

You let out the breath you’ve been holding with an audible haa as you bring the beast to a halt. You wipe the water from your face and try to catch your breath, looking up to see Ralak with one of the biggest smiles on his face – the first of its kind. And you couldn’t quite tell if the shock plastered on the other mens’ faces are for you or for him.

You return the smile as you gently pull away your kuru from the tsuraks’ and dismount him. “He is weary. And injured. Left wing.” You pant, meeting eyes with the giant beaming with pride. “Let him rest, Lak.”

“Ah.” He chuckles breathily, using his tail to caress the back of your leg. “I will be sure to do that, my Tsurak Makto.”

Cheeks heating up to a dangerous degree, you avert your gaze elsewhere, only for it to land on the Olo’eyktan himself. He, too, is smiling wide, moving towards you with an extended arm. You link arms, slender fingers wrapping around his strake.

“You are Metkayina now, y/n. Soleia [congrats; you did it]” Tonowari declares.

“Thank you, sir. And your daughter –”

“While I am sure she has taught you well, Ralak is the one to thank here.” He rests a firm hand on Ralak’s shoulder.

You look over into the mangroves and see your father with his arms crossed over his chest, nodding and smiling. He’s impressed, to say the least. But not only with you and the way you absolutely mastered the taming of the skimwing, but also with Ralak – who is clearly to thank for that.

----

With night being only a blink away, things move quickly. Na’vi men and women rush to begin the preparations for the iknimaya celebration on the open, sandy area on the beach. They haul in large, tightly strung instruments, scrupulously carved flutes, drums made from animal skin, and horns made from bone, setting them up on the large, flattened rocks.

The clans’ best singers apply various colours of tsamopin [warpaint] to their skin, accentuating their features, while the elder, wiser na’vi prepare the native dishes for the feast. Fruits, vegetables, grains, and meat are cooked to perfection and spread carefully for everyone to have a taste. Bottles of fermented fruit garnish the spread. Others hurry to ornament the space with harvested bioluminescent flora from inland, and light the bon fire.

Tsireya approaches you with a full, large basket tucked on her hip. She smiles as she places her free hand on your back, guiding you and the small group of four other na’vi who passed their iknimaya to a secluded marui. Propping the basket between two jutting mangrove roots, she retrieves a handful of different coloured beads and shells.

As tsakarem [Tsahik in training], it is Tsireya’s duty to seal the iknimaya by rewarding those who passed with a few artefacts to signify their adulthood. “For your songchord.” She speaks, distributing the beads among the five of you before fetching the special pieces of clothing.

“You have all passed your iknimaya.” She speaks softly, distributing the clothing to the others. “Soleia! [congrats; you met the challenge] You may all receive your inking at the ftxozä [celebration]”

She comes to you last, carefully handing you a woven palm leaf. “I am proud of you, y/n.” She whispers, watching as you quickly open the woven packet, revealing your first Metkayinan article of clothing. Your eyes widen as you hold it in front of them.

Seven warbonnet fern leaves stained in crimson coloured ink, strung tightly together with fishing line. It’s beautiful. The leaves are long and pointed, meticulously placed to provide enough coverage for your chest. You rest it against your chest, raising your brows at Tsireya for her opinion.

She clicks her tongue, hand flying to grip her chin as she ‘thinks’. “Hm... He’s definitely going to rip that off of you.” She teases, fingers covering her mouth to hide her giggle. You laugh, probably a little too loudly given the four pairs of eyes staring at you both.

“The sun is setting, everyone! Get ready, wear your pen [clothing] with pride, look your best, and most of all, have fun!” Tsireya shouts happily, gesturing with her hand for them to hurry.

Everyone rushes to get ready, slipping in their pen and putting on their best face. You observe their hasty, excited movements, when the last rays of sunlight avert your stare to the horizon. You catch sight of the sunset, something you rarely got to see back home. The big, blood orange orb sinks beneath the horizon, turning the water a hue of orange.

Your gaze follows the ginger ripples of the water up to the beach, where you’re met with the sight of a blazing bonfire, flames growing as tall as some palm trees. A breath-taking sight. The skilled pamtseotu [musicians] work at their instruments, nimble fingers plucking the taut strings, and the wax coated bones beating away at the drums.

You admire the glow of the people as they enjoy themselves. Two elderly women trying to hear each other over the loud da-dum of the drums. A few young adults having their first sips of pxir [beer; liquor]. Parents with their sleeping babies strapped to their backs sharing a dance under the moonlight. Ao’nung and Rotxo eating as much as their cheeks can hold. Ralak – oh.

Ralak talking to your father.

----

Ralak’s POV (starting from iknimaya)

“While I am sure she has taught you well, Ralak is the one to thank here.” He rests a firm hand on Ralak’s shoulder.

Ralak remains silent, yet his mind is loud. He has so much to do – so much on his plate. But all he can think about is you. How you bring light to his small, dim world. How your presence alone uplifts the weight on his shoulders. And oh, how the past few weeks have been tortuous for him.

Tonowari, the man that took him in after the passing of his parents, had him hard at work since you weren’t allowed to see him anymore. Tonowari isn’t oblivious to what’s going on. He can tell the situation for what it is, but out of respect for Jake he made the arrangements for Tsireya to teach you instead.

Ralak has been waiting for the right time to speak with Tonowari about the matter. The matter of asking for your hand. Although he wasn’t necessarily asking Tonowari for permission for your hand, but more so permission for himself. Permission to dedicate his time to his mate, his family – to his dream, mundane life.

He watches you swim back to the mangroves, and with an injured tsurak there’s a bit of time between you and the next contender. Tonowari instructs for the other warrior to tend to the tsurak, and for a moment, it’s just Tonowari and Ralak.

The two giants exchange glances, standing in silence as one waits for the other to speak. Ralak knows it’s the perfect time to do it. You’ve just passed your iknimaya and they’re alone and far from any company.

“Sir.” Tonowari turns to face Ralak, knowing what’s coming next. Ralak slowly raises his head, tilting it to return the gaze. “I want to mate with her.” He speaks assertively, showing his seriousness through a stern gaze.

Tonowari nods a few times, breaking eye contact as he momentarily drops his head. He knows what this means – what he’s truly asking for. Freedom. Less duties. More time put into building the family he’s always wanted. To rediscover his days as a fisherman. To live his simple life.

Tonowari looks at Ralak, hand swiftly moving to firmly grip his shoulder and give it a squeeze. “You have my blessing, son.” Ralak smiles, using his free hand to clasp Tonowari’s. “But you must speak with Toruk Makto first.” Tonowari booms with laughter, pulling his hand off Ralak’s shoulder.

Although Ralak is almost as much as a giant as his mentor, he found Jake to be intimidating. He has extreme respect for Jake, admiring how family oriented he is. Which is why he wants to do it right. “I will. Tonight.”

Ralak hauls in a lengthy, wooden table, plopping it down in the open, sandy area. An elderly woman approaches him, thanking him with a gentle hand to his back and a gummy smile. Her free hand holds a bowl containing a mixture of diced fruits. He quickly takes it from her, placing it carefully in the centre of the table.

“Allow me. You rest.” He says with a thick accent, linking arms with her to walk her back over to the seating area.

“Tak. Always such a kind boy.” She whispers softly, patting his hand before letting go and taking a seat.

Jake and Neytiri are assisting with the seating area, rearranging the order of things. Ralak gestures a respectful greeting to them both, bowing his head before the former Olo’eyktan. Neytiri gives him a warm smile, acknowledging his kind gesture towards the elder.

She has always disagreed with Jakes decision to separate you two, insisting that he is too harsh on you and that you have already passed your iknimaya back home. She had taken a liking to Ralak since the day you rode an ilu after only a week of lessons.

“Sir. May I speak with you?” Ralak asks politely.

Jake lets out a hesitant sigh, looking at his mate who’s shooting him a deathly glare. He purses his lips into a thin line and gives Ralak a firm nod, gesturing with his hand that they go somewhere more private to talk. He follows Jake willingly, walking with him to the shoreline.

They stand in silence for a moment, much like he did with Tonowari earlier. Ralak takes a deep breath, preparing himself for the worst. He turns to look Toruk Makto dead in the eye, mask of indifference fixed tightly to his face.

“I would like to apologize for the way things turned out. It was never my intention.” Ralak speaks, holding eye contact with the great warrior – who is visibly biting his tongue for the sake of not being strangled by his own wife. “Your daughter. She is truly the best thing that has happened to me. Kind. Caring. Understanding. Yes, she has her moments.” Ralak widens his eyes, quirking his brows before smirking a little. “But I love those too.”

“Uh-huh.” Jake gives him a small nod, doing a ‘come on’ motion with his hand, implying he should get to the point.

A little intimidated, Ralak averts his gaze to his feet and speaks quickly and confidently. “I want to provide for her. Protect her. With my life. I will give her anything she desires. Everything she needs. I will give her a good life.” Ralak’s eyes snap up to meet Jake’s. “But only with your permission, sir.”

“You gonna look me in the eye this time and make that promise?” Jake raises his brows, wrinkling his forehead.

Ralak clears his throat, straightening his shoulders to stand at full height, towering over Jake. “I love her. I will take care of her. Give her everything. If you’ll allow it.”

There’s a moment of silence – other than the increasingly loud thump of the drums – where Jake and Ralak stand face to face. Jake process all what Ralak has said. He’s never heard so many words fall from this man’s mouth before. Jake’s shoulders drop as he heaves a sigh, perked ears now relaxing against his skull. Hands flying to his hips, he looks away briefly before looking back at Ralak.

“She’s my babygirl. You know that, right?” Jake growls through gritted teeth.

“Yes, sir.” Ralak is quick to answer.

“I swear, if you let anything – and I mean anything happen to my babygirl...” Jake’s voice his dark and gruff, laced with uncertainty.

“Understood. And, agreed. If anything happens to her, you have every right.” Ralak assures the former Olo’eyktan, grimacing at the mere thought.

“Right. Then you have my permission, Ralak.” Jake nods, extending his arm to the taller na’vi. Ralaks ears bolt upright, overjoyed to hear the words. They join arms with an audible smack, sealing the deal with a firm shake. “Go on. Go find her.” Jake nudges over to the mangroves with his chin, “Before I change my mind.” Ralak bows his head slightly and parts ways to look for you.

---- End of Ralak’s POV

Shit, I should go. You think, turning on your heels to go find Ralak. By the time you’ve turned around, everyone is gone except for Tsireya.

“Come, let’s get you ready.” Tsireya grins wide, slowly creeping towards you with her handmade palette of colours.

You pull your head back, a downturned smile spreading across your face. “Where are you putting that? What is that?”

“Just a little something for your cheeks, come on.” She smiles even wider, dipping her finger into the creamy concoction.

“Eh. Not my thing.” You pull your head back even more.

“Ralak will like it.” She sings, wiggling her pink stained finger in the air.

You let out a small sigh of defeat and lean forward. “Fine. Only a little, okay?”

“Mhm!” Tsireya squeals, beaming with delight as he smears the creamy mixture on the apples of your cheeks. “There. And a little for your lips, too.” She says, quickly swiping it on your lips before you can refuse.

You grunt in response, popping your lips to distribute it evenly. “Well. How do I look?”

“Sevin [pretty], and you’ll look even better when you put that on.” She stares at the crimson strained top in your hands.

You slip into your top, fixing the leaves into position to cover your nipples, and do a twirl for the chief’s daughter. “Well?” You ask with open hands.

You didn’t think that cheeky grin could grow much wider, but it does. A grin so wide that it’s ear to ear.“Fyole [perfect]. Now let’s go get your mate.”

Maybe her giddiness is just catching, but hearing one of the most beautiful girls in the village call you fyole makes you grin too. She tugs at your arm, urging you to follow her down the webbed pathway towards the sandy area.

As you both make your way down to the beach, the faint whoof of the drums deepen in bass, and the plunk of the stringed instruments grows higher. And soon you can make out the song that’s playing. It’s the same song that Tsireya has been trying to hum to you for the past week. You keep your chin tucked to your chest, gaze locked to your feet as you follow behind Tsireya.

Once you see the silky sand spill through the cracks of your toes, you look up to see that you’re both standing at the edge of the crowd. People are packed tightly together, sweaty bodies pressed firmly against each other as they move to the beat.

The ambiance is electric, you can practically see it jolt through the crowd. Different colours glow around the moving bodies, it reminds you of your dream hunt.

Tsireya grabs a hold of your hand, squeezing it tightly to bring you out of your deep thought. “Remember what I taught you, yes?” You stare at her wide-eyed, knowing what she’s going to tell you next. “Dance with me, vultsyìp [stick].” She sings the last word teasingly, tugging you into the crowd behind her.

As much as you loved the music, you’re focused on Ralak. You want to find him, be with him. You look around as you both weave through the crowd, bumping into people having a good time, drinking, and dancing. You swear you see a few people laying in the sand on top of one another, bent into positions you’ve never seen before.

Tsireya can sense that you’re a little anxious. Perhaps you feel out of place, or maybe you’re just a little stunned by the way of her – your people dance. She looks back on you and gives you a reassuring smile, squeezing your hand tighter as she burrows you both through the dancing crowd.

Finally coming to a more spacious area, she wraps her arms around your waist and pulls you in close. You slump into her, chin resting on her shoulder. Her lips brush against the shell of your ear. “Let him come to you.”

You pull back, looking around to see if he’s anywhere nearby before leaning back in to speak into her ear. “How will he know where to find me?”

Tsireya laughs, lifting a hand from your waist to tap her flat nose a few times, signing ‘smell’.

You nod slowly, trusting her word, despite you being in a large crowd that reeks of pxir[liquor], and – sex. You take a deep breath, smelling an array of scents all mixed, and overlapping one another. It’s almost overwhelming, leaving you feeling all hazy and dazed.

“Now dance with me!” She shouts over the boom of the music, sliding her hands down your waist to grip your hips. A giggle bubbles up your throat, the aphrodisiac properties of the music now taking affect. It sets a fire in your body, heating you up from the inside out and making your hips move in her grip.

It’s a little frightening, feeling your body move on its own, much like it did during your first heat. You try to fight it a little, feeling a little timid from how the music is affecting you in this way. But you recall Tsireya explaining to you that it’s something to do with ‘the way of Eywa permeating through the music’ – or something.

Tsireya realizes that your movements are bit rigid and broken, plagued with uncertainty. “Let go. Feel the music.” She urges you, guiding your hips in the direction of her motions. You allow yourself to let go, closing your eyes to immerse yourself in the trance of the music, moving freely to the rhythm.

With each beat of the drum comes a quick roll of your waist. And soon you’re dancing on her, vibrations of the instruments rippling through you. It comes naturally, body moving in a sinuous manner against hers. At the same time, it’s such a foreign feeling, as if your pores are dilating and releasing your essence into the air.

Meanwhile, Ralak is searching for you at the edge of the crowd, peeking over the sea of people. His eyes quickly scan the waves of dancing na’vi, looking for his tahni. His deep blue tahni. He had no interest in going into the crowd, much less surrender himself to the hypnotic ways of the music.

But he has no other choice.

He nosedives into the crowd, working his way between people as they increasingly get more and more suggestive with their bodies. One cannot simply walk through this without being affected to some degree – the pink tinge of his cheeks is evidence of it.

A hand instinctively flies to his nose to block out the mixture of scents bombarding him. Pxir. Sex. Desperation. Its almost contagious. Only making him want to be with you even more. Nearly to the point of desperation. He needs you. To be around you. To touch you. To be inside you.

Until it just becomes too much. Too much that a simple hand overing his burning nostrils won’t suffice. He drops his hand in defeat, allowing the mesmeric fumes to engulf him. It’s nauseating, yet his want for you grows stronger, to the point where he could swear to Eywa herself that the scent is slowly morphing into yours.

And yours only.

Ralak closes his eyes, inhaling so deeply that his chest tightens – all so he can savour your sweet, sweet aroma. He succumbs to it, nose following the scent to the source like an ilu being lured with a piece of fish. When he opens his eyes, he sees you. Clear as day.

There’s an aura around you, glowing so bright it’s almost blinding. It’s like the light in the darkness – all over again. Just like the first day he met you. The day you brought meaning to his life after losing so much.

Right there.

In awe, he watches your little body move effortlessly to the rhythm, slender tail swishing excitedly behind you. It’s the way you look – all flushed and flustered, dressed in the clothes of the Metkayina. He swallows thickly at the sight, influence of your pheromones making it that much harder – literally. He’s so hard it hurts, balls tightening and pulling so close to him that he shifts his weight to the next foot.

Yet his eyes dare not move. They bore into you so deep that even you can sense his stare. Your body knows he’s close, speeding up with your lewd movements, luring him in even more. And it works. He can’t help but move a little closer. Just to get a better look at you. At how you’ve learned the dance of his people, moving just like one of them with no difficulty.

And then you feel him.

Pressing against your body from behind, his warmth only heating you up more. You can smell him – no need to turn around to check who it is. You lean back into him, back of your head slumping into his chest. Everything’s so hot – so heavy. He leans down, pressing his soft, warm lips against your throat, using his tongue to taste the sheen on your skin.

You exhale an audible haah, chest heaving harshly as your nipples harden into peaks underneath your new garments. Tsireya lets you go, retreating into the crowd to leave you both alone. His hands quickly replace hers, wrapping tightly around your waist, pulling you in closer to his hot body.

That’s when you feel it, hard and firm, pressing into your lower back. Then your breaths turn raggedy, becoming louder. You can’t help but grind into it, feeling him bend his knees, body receptive to your movements. And soon he’s grinding into you too, bodies falling into synchrony.

“So this is what you have been learning. Hm?” He whispers gruffly into the shell of your ear, following your every move as you lower yourself even more.

“May-be” The word comes out broken from the pace your body is setting for him to keep up with.

“All for me?” He chuckles, greedy hands lowering to your thighs, fingers smoothing over your clammy skin.

“Mmn – mhm.” You purr, thighs squeezing together as you shimmy your hips into him, providing your throbbing clit with a little friction.

His hands swipe underneath your loincloth as they glide back up to your hips, his lips pressing into your neck once more. He peppers hot, wet kisses down to the tips of your shoulders and up to the back of your neck. It sends your freckles flickering under the moonlight, surely gaining more eyes on the two of you.

But neither of you cared. Not in this moment.

“Feel me.” He growls, sinking his fingers into your hips to shove you into his pelvis. “Feel what you do to me.”

You can hear the frustration in his voice, he’s so wound up that you can just tell from the way he’s manhandling your hips. “Oh, fuck.” You gasp, rubbing yourself against his hardened bulge, tail wrapping around his thin waist.

Calloused hands work their way up your stomach, fingers grazing over the dip of your navel before finding purchase under the strings of your top. He hooks his thumbs under the twine, running them along its length. You bow your back against him, pushing back into his crotch.

“My beautiful tahni.” He groans shakily, resisting the urge to pin you down and take what’s his, right here, right now. “I have missed you.”

“Ma’ Lak.” You moan softly, feeling so out of it – so hazy and light-headed.

“Do me the honour of being my mate.” He tries to speak politely, keeping his voice steady and calm, rough grinding smoothing into gentle swaying.

“Say that again for me.” You pant through a smile, dipping your head forward to give him better access to your neck.

A low growl rumbles in his chest as pointed canines graze over the nape of your neck, eager to sink into your supple skin. You spin around, drawing a little blood when they scrape against your skin. He shoves a knee between your legs, spreading them apart to press his pelvis firmly into yours. “Mate with me, woman.”

“Oh, yeah? Right here?” You tease, tugging at his queue to bring it over his shoulder.

“You’re trouble. You know that?” He chuckles breathily, leaning down to nuzzle into your neck, breathing in your hypnotic scent.

“I’ve been told.” You let out a soft giggle, twirling the end of his kuru around your finger.

Eywa, did that feel good.

“Come.” He says quickly - impatiently, hoisting you up onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist. He stumbles over to the shore, still feeling the effects of the melodic music coursing in his bloodstream. Quickly calling for his tsurak with a tik-tak, he watches as the large beast glides through the water towards him.

In an instant, Ralak bonds and mounts the beast with you stuck to him, holding you close with one hand and gripping the harness tightly with the other. You bury your face into his chest, basking in his natural scent as you try to calm down. But you’re so on edge and need some sort of release soon.

“Need y-you. S-so bad.” You moan needily, breath hitching as you grind the soft flesh between your legs against the tautness of his tewng [loincloth].

Ralak’s brows pinch tightly together, huffing a breath of hot air through his nostrils. His restraint is dwindling by the millisecond. He needs you. Craves you. Hungers for you. And he can no longer withhold himself, not when you’re still grinding into him, even though the music has faded out.

“I know. Almost there. A little longer.” He hums breathlessly, beads of sweat rolling down his temples.

Ralak’s so flustered and hot that he can barely maintain control over his winged beast, making the ride to the cove of ancestors rough and bumpy. The burning need to possess you – dominate you – only grows stronger with each huff of hot air you breathe onto his bare chest.

He wants so badly to just drill himself inside you, right on the back of this tsurak. Leaving his cock buried deep in your tight, wet heat for the remainder of the ride. So that when you do arrive, he can lay you down on the nearest rock and have his way with you.

But he won’t. Not for your first time. Not before you mate.

Your breath rasps in your throat, nimble fingers working away at the knot above his tail. It’s as if you could hear his thoughts already, telling you to take him right here, right now. Or perhaps it’s the way his painfully hard cock almost bores through the thin cloth, right into your sopping cunt as his hips buck into you. Both of you reek with desperation, a scent so pungent any passer-by would gag. Yet he still finds the self-control to reach behind him to rest a gentle hand on your wriggling fingers.

“Wait.” A single word parts his flushed lips, gruff and strained. It’s all he can get out in his state of mind. He wants nothing more than to just do this the right way. The way he’s been planning for years on end. You whine a little when he pulls your hand away, plunking it back onto your slippery thigh.

“Please.” You mewl, fingers now burrowing between your pelvises to slip under the band of his loincloth, pulling it down just enough to unsheathe his thick cock. It’s slaps against his flexed abdomen, tip of his glossy, reddened head poking right below his crossed ribs. It’s all swollen and throbbing, sticky from how much precum he’s leaking all over himself.

Denying him the chance to refuse, you shove your clothed cunt against his slickened length, humping into him with ease. He tries to bite back a sudden groan, tightening his jaw so much he may fracture it. His breaths turn raggedy as he rests his chin on the crown of your head.

Eyes becoming so lidded, he doesn’t even realise that you’re finally here. The cove of the ancestors. The most sacred places in the village of Awa’atlu, where na’vi go to mate. You’re blissfully unaware of your surroundings, trying to stick your hand in your crotch to shift your loincloth to the side.

“I said. Wait.” A gruff, stern voice sends a shiver down your spine.

And fuck – it only makes you hornier, sending your hips in a thrusting frenzy, doing their best to line his cockhead up with your dripping entrance. You can’t quite catch it as it keeps bucking and slipping over your puffy clit. You grunt a frustrated ‘mmph’, irritated that he isn’t sliding in like you thought.

Ralak is struggling to maintain his composure. Half of him wants to chuckle at your futile attempts to fuck him, and the other half wanting to just ram his cock inside you for being so stubborn. He takes a deep breath in, holding it to reground himself. He exhales a sigh of relief once he bumps into the rocky cove of his people’s most sacred place.

“Eywa – tahni.” A tortured groan evades his lips when he forces himself to shift his pelvis away from you as you persist with your efforts to hurt yourself. He inhales deeply, slowing his galloping heart. “Be a good girl for me, hm? We are here now.” He croons at you, wrapping your hands around his neck and supporting your back as he dismounts his tsurak.

The bioluminescence of the water glows behind you as Ralak walks you both towards a nearby sea cave. Directly below you is the spirit tree – its fronds and filters luminating the area radiantly. You try to squirm out his grip, feet dangling above the cave floor from the way he refuses to let you go.

“Not here. Too rough.” He grunts as he hoists you back up and walks further into the large, open sea cave. Its floor is completely flat, with all sorts of flora growing between the cracks of the rock. The deeper you venture in, the greener it becomes. Until eventually, all that covers the floor is a thick bed of green, silky moss.

Little creatures buzz around, luminating the darkness of the cave, exposing the markings on the wall from previous mating sessions. Etched swirls, zigzags, and other patterns to signify a new union. There’s no doubt that this little ‘hidden’ spot is a popular place for na’vi to mate before Eywa.

You calm down a bit, influence of the music wearing off now that you’re both so far away from the celebration. At this point you just feel a bit buzzed, melting into Ralak’s grasp as your tense muscles relax. But your droopy eyes snap open when you feel him unwrapping your legs from his waist.

“Here.” Ralak husks, voice deep and thick with arousal.

He lets you down gently, snaking his arms around your waist to pull you in for a kiss. His lips crash into yours, so heated and frantic that there’ll for sure be bruises there tomorrow. His eager hands explore your body, releasing all the pent-up feelings he’s been holding back for the past few months.

Hearts thumping wildly in your chests, you pull away and share the same breath, panting open mouthed before your lips meet again. His hands find themselves cupped around your reddened cheeks, impatiently pulling you in closer until your bodies are flush against one another.

Webbed hands work their way down the column of your throat, calloused thumbs gently pressing into your windpipe. You let out a choked gasp, mouth hanging open as his hands continue their way down to your chest, fingers parting the blood-red leaves to expose your stiffened nipples.

Rolling the tiny, sensitive peaks between his thumb and index fingers, he quickly moves his kisses down your jaw and up to the lobe of your ear, biting it as gently as he can. You stand there open-mouthed, breath catching in your throat momentarily.

You exhale as you rub your thighs together, smearing your sticky arousal all over them. It spreads your scent into the air, causing Ralak to pull away from your ear and takes a deep breath in. He releases it with a lengthy ‘ahh’, face growing hot from the way you smell. You can see him clench and unclench his jaw as the lump in his throat moves from how hard he’s swallowing.

Cerulean eyes pierce into yours, a moment of stillness passes by where his face morphs into the same face he makes when he’s trying not to succumb to that animalistic urge to ravish you on the spot. But it’s been too long. No amount of clenching and gritting could help him.

Not tonight.

He grabs you by the jaw, pulling you up on the tips of your toes to kiss you – hard. His lips crush yours frenetically, letting go all his worries and apprehensions. Truly indulging himself in the moment. In you. He fills his lungs with your arousal – your aphrodisiac. Getting high on you and allowing his body to speak for him.

Slipping his tongue into your mouth, he backs you up against the wall, hand flying to the back of your head to cushion the impact. Your tongues roll over each other, taking in the feeling of every tastebud. Both his hands slip down to yours, lengthy fingers enfolding your wrists as he brings them above your head, pinning them to the wall.

He quickly binds your wrists together, securing them tightly with one hand whilst he shoves his free hand between your slickened thighs. A small, shaky gasp breaks the kiss, thick fingers tugging down your soddened garments. You help him by shimmying your hips, allowing the flimsy material to drop to your ankles.

Now you’re just irresistible.

His fingers graze past your plump, smooth folds, before finding their way in between them. “Ralak.” His name slips out, all breathy and small. You say it so nicely, so sweet and innocent, and his ears can’t help but flicker at the double syllabled word. Eywa, he loves it so much that he makes it his mission to have you scream it by the end of the night.

But not yet.

He brings his digits to his nose, inhaling as deep as his lungs can go, closing his eyes to relish in the sweet, sweet scent of your arousal. And when his eyes open, you swear you see them shift in colour, darkening to a cerulean blue. There filled with greed, gazing longingly at you as if you were something to devour.

And that’s when he takes his fingers into his mouth, having his taste of you. Tongue weaving through the cracks of his digits, he licks them clean, using his thumb to wipe the corners of his mouth before popping that in too. There was something about the way he did that, sucking on his fingers as if you were the best thing, he’s ever tasted in his twenty-four years of living.

It makes you want to taste him too. Back bowing against the jagged wall, you try to wriggle free from his grasp, prompting him to loosen his fingers. In an instant you sink to your knees, staticky hands latching onto his thighs as you press your face against his half-covered bulge. His hand flattens against the wall, supporting his weight as he peers down at you wide-eyed.

You walk your fingers up his thighs, tucking them under the band of this loincloth to yank it down. Out springs his twitching cock, rock hard and throbbing from how swollen he’s gotten from sharing a few kisses. Your eyes cross as you look at it for the first time up close.

It’s... thick. So thick you can’t close your hand around it, leaving a spacious gap between your fingers and thumb. It only gets fatter towards the middle, then tapers off into his mushroomy head, curved and ribbed. His ridges are pointed, yet soft, spanning around and down the underside of his cockhead.

It curves upward, jumping to the rate of his heartbeat. A single bead of precum oozes from his slit, dripping off his cockhead in a thin string. Your tongue darts out, flattened with the tip of it touching your chin, eyes locked on his as you wait patiently for your fill. And when it finally drops onto your tongue, your tastebuds dance from the slightly sweet taste.

His brows jump at the sight, eyelids fluttering a little too quickly to be considered calm and collected. You can’t fight the smug look creeping on your face when you lock your jaw and swallow it with glee. Oh, to make a big, grown man like him crumble.

Naturally, you want to see how far you can push him. You wrap your dainty fingers around his cock, hold it taut to expose his throbbing head. Unsure of what you’re doing, you give him little kitten licks, playing with the little ridges underneath the tip of his cock.

His head slumps forward, thick strands of loose hair swaying side to side as his core flexes and unflexes. He’s biting his bottom lip, struggling to hold back that low grumble deep in his chest, hand balling into a fist against the wall.

And when you finally take him into your mouth, engulfing him in wet heat, his hips thrust. Hard. He didn’t mean for it, you just feel so fucking good around his cock, swollen lips stretching to their limit just for him to fit. Your eyes water, tip of his cock prodding into the back of your throat, corners of your mouth burning from the sheer size of him.

The way you’re looking up at him all glossy eyed and innocent, trying to absolute hardest not to gag on not even half of his cock sends him over the edge. He tightens his fist, knuckles scraping against the rocky wall, surely becoming bloody as he fights the urge to thrust into you one more time.

That’s when you hear the rumble in his chest, the steady, low growl traveling up his throat. Perhaps it was meant to scare you, or maybe it’s the face he’s making – narrowed, beady eyes and thinly pursed lips. Make you sit in the dip of your feet and be the good girl he wants you to be. But it only makes you wetter, thick strings of your own slick oozing onto the mossy floor.

You take him deeper into your mouth, mushroomy tip making its way down the tightness of your throat. The hot tears stream down your cheeks, washing away the rouge to reveal an even pinker tinge of your skin. The saliva pooling in your cheeks spills out the corners of your mouth, dribbling down your chin with nowhere to go.

Instinctively, you swallow.

An innocent reflex, as innocent as the glazed eyes that peer up at him. He lets out a sudden, sonorous groan, brows pinching so tightly together it creases his forehead. It’s so sensitive, so tender, that his hips snap back, cock pulling out your mouth with a loud pop. His bloodied hand flies down to your pinch your chin, pushing you away from him all together.

“’m sorry.” You apologize through a hoarse voice, thinking you’ve hurt him.

He shakes his head, thumb swiping the drool on your swollen bottom lip. “Don’t.” He exhales, chest rising and falling from how hard he’s breathing. You watch this gentle giant crumble to his knees before you, chin tucked to his chest to hide his face. He swallows harshly, clearing his throat as he slowly raises his head and looks up at you through hooded eyes.

“Tsaheylu.” He says breathlessly, heated ears laying flat against his head. He catches his breath as he shuffles closer to you, hand reaching for his kuru. All that’s running through his mind is that he must do this right. And with whatever remaining restraint ebbing away, he must do it now. “Tsaheylu, tahni.” He repeats quickly.

Ralak holds his kuru upwards, exposing his pink tendrils as they dance wildly before your eyes. There’s a moment of silence, where you both take in the lilac hue of his kuru. You nod franticly as a hasty hand reaches behind you, quickly tugging your queue in front of you. You hold yours next to his, revealing your wiggling tendrils.

Your eyes widen when you realize that they sense one another – an invisible force pulling them together. You glance up at him, wondering if he’s feeling the tug too. He’s watching intently, ears twitching and eyes tinted purple from the hues of your kurus coming closer together all on their own.

Looking back down, you witness your tendrils excitedly intertwine with one another, kurus meeting with a quick, harsh tug. His eyes slam shut, ears practically disappearing as they embrace the curve of his skull. He exhales loudly, head dipping forward as his brows gather tightly.

Your breath catches in your throat, body waiting for him to take a breath. When he finally does, you gasp for air, filling your lungs in synchrony with him. His eyes pop open, pupils so blown that only a thin ring of blue remains. Your tail swishes wildly behind you before curling around your waist to tickle his thigh.

A faint ring buzzes in your ears, fading out into a vague, echo of his voice. You can hear his thoughts, feel the way your tail brushes against his skin makes him hot and bothered. You can feel his tightened chest, thick with emotion and overwhelm. And if you close your eyes and focus enough, you can feel his deep-rooted trauma – his past.

But you can also feel his present. His future. The way he desires you to be the one to bear his children. To make his marui into a home. His immense adoration for you and only you. and the more you tune into your mate, the more you feel his immense restraint and composure, the way he’s forcing himself to be gentle.

It’s all too much at once, yet not enough all together.

“I love you.” You blurt out in unison, urge so strong it’s exigent.

The tightness in your chest grows ten-fold, spreading to your core. Eager hands caress one another’s cheeks, pulling each other in for another heavy session of kissing. You break the kiss with a shove to his chest – your futile attempt to push him onto his back. He’s unbudging, strong and solid, even in such a carnal state.

“Lie down, Lak.” You pant, still out of breath from such an intimate experience.

Ralak nods, slowly leaning back to prop himself up on his elbows. Loose, curly strands of hair sticks to his temples, inebriated gaze boring into yours. You climb between his legs, settling yourself comfortably in the dips of your feet.

His neglected cock twitches madly, pre-cum practically flowing down his length and onto his swollen, firm balls. You swallow thickly at such an enticing sight. You want to taste him. To return the pleasure he’s always ensuring for you. Now that you’re here, between this gentle giant’s legs, you realise that you’ve never even stroked him before.

Shaky, inexperienced hands wrap around his girth, experimentally gliding up and down its length a few times. You can feel every vein, every ridge pressing into the palm of your hands. He’s so rock hard that it looks painful. You can tell in the way he grimaces, peering down at you as you pump him without rhythm.

Holding his cock out the way, you lean in do something you’ve been thinking about since the day of your first lesson. Lick his tattoo. It’s raised and warm, even a little veiny too. You trace each stripe with the tip of your tongue, trailing it down to the base of his cock. Nuzzling your face into the space between his thigh and balls, you fill your lungs with his musky aphrodisiac.

“Eywa. You smell... so fucking good.” You exhale, licking his cock from base to tip. He shudders before you, lying down flat on his back and covering his face with his hands. You can tell you’re doing a good job, the little groans evading his mouth confirming that for you.

Taking him into your mouth, you suck on his mushroomy head, swallowing all the slick that pools in your cheeks. Its mostly sweet, with a little bit of a salty aftertaste. You mindlessly play with the ridges under his tip, liking the way they feel against your tastebuds. He seems to like it too, hips jolting forward with each swipe of your tongue.

“Muntxate [wife]” He growls the word, hand flying from his face to grab a fist full of your hair.

Yes, my love? You think, knowing he’s hearing your every thought and feeling your every emotion.

“Keep doing that and I’ll cum.” He warns you, tone of voice gruff and serious.

Good. Cum for me.

“Ssst–ah.” He lets out a shaky breath, hand beginning to pull your head off him. You quickly clutch his wrist, picking up the speed of your tongue whilst bobbing your head on his cock. “Tahni. Tahni. Tahni.” He groans, each word becoming more and more guttural as they slip off his tongue.

Let me taste you, Muntxatan [husband].

“Shit.” He whispers, caving in on himself as his other hand flies to your head, stopping you from bobbing your head all together. With a quick, single swipe of your tongue, his head pulsates feverishly, spurting ropes of warm, thick cum in your mouth. It pools in your cheeks, stuffing them until they burn from how full they are.

You swear you can hear the da-thump of his throbbing cock, balls pulling closely to his core. You hum triumphantly, proud of yourself for making him cum. You pull off with a subtle pop and a loud gulp, swallowing his huge load with greed. Wide eyes stare down at you, processing what you just did.

Seconds of silence fill the air, two freshly mated na’vi staring into each other’s eyes.

Within seconds he’s pinning you down on your back, assaulting your throat with rough kisses. His core ruts against yours, sweaty, inexperienced bodies bumping into each other. Everything moves so quickly that you can barely process how he’s got you pinned down on your back underneath him, trailing wet, feverish kisses down your chest. You go to slip out of your top, only for a large hand to stop you.

“Keep it on.” He grunts into your skin, tip of his tongue leaving a trail of saliva down the centre of your stomach. Eyes flicking up to yours, his predatory, lustful gaze bores into you, soft lips pressing into your abdomen. They flicker from side to side as they admire your luminous beauty, flushed lips sucking bruised-like marks into your dark skin.

Little broken mewls part your lips, hips lifting slightly as he peppers gentle kisses below your navel. He maintains eye contact with you as he works his way down to your hipbones, leaving open-mouthed kisses against your hips, he works his way down to your soft thighs, tip of his tongue swiping against your skin – salty from the sea. He lingers there for a while, breathing deeply to savour the sweet scent of your heat that’s so, so close to him.

He lingers there, waiting patiently.

Waiting for your permission as he begs you with his eyes to let him have a proper taste of you. To have his turn. One side of your mouth pulling coy smirk, you weave your fingers through his hair to push his nose between your folds. He wrenches your thighs open, pinning your legs to the mossy ground as he begins to devour you.

Tongue parting your pussy lips, he greedily laps up the sweet nectar dripping from your slit. He grunts into your cunt, sucking on your clit, all swollen and puffy from being so neglected. His hips buck into the mossy bedding beneath him, chasing the feeling that’s transferring to him through the bond.

You yelp out when you feel his finger stretch you out, sinking inside you at a torturously slow pace. He doesn’t want to be too rough with you as it’s been a while since he’s touched you in this way. But you reassure him with a tug at his wrist, shoving his finger knuckle deep inside you.

But it’s just not enough.

“M-more, Ralak. Please!” You cry out, extreme pressure in your chest coming to a head.

Feeling the taut tension, Ralak quickly obliges, sinking another digit inside of you as he assaults the little bud of nerves with the flat of his tongue. Your toes curl at the same time he curls his fingers inside you, prodding them deep into that gummy part of your heat. The pressure feels like electricity, surging through your core and to the tips of your extremities.

He loves how you’re squirming around, hips sputtering to chase your orgasm all on your own. He’s so proud of you, working for your own release like the good girl you are. Praising you with a quick pat on your thigh, he quickens the pace of his fingers, working out a squelch with each thrust.

You begin chanting his name over and over, voice waning with each syllable, until its nothing a tiny, pathetic whimper. Your head spins and your heart skips as you clench tightly around his digits. Your legs tremble, working their way towards one another to close around his face.

“Gonna – oh f-fuck.” You let loose a sudden whine, shoving him into your pussy when you feel the final shockwave ripple through your being, leaving you a shaking mess at the mercy of his two fingers and tongue. Following your every jolt, he hums a victorious groan from the feeling of your pussy walls fluttering helplessly around his fingers. He pulls away with a ‘pwah’, using this opportunity of pure, unadulterated pleasure to stretch you out even more.

“Good girl. And breathe for me.” Ralak coos, sliding his third and final finger inside you. The stretch stings, causing you to wince for just a moment. He quickly curls his fingers, causing another wave of white-hot pleasure to ripple through you, masking that string just right.

Ralak gently moves his fingers inside you, just enough to get you used to the such a big stretch. The sharp sting fades away, leaving nothing but small shocks of electricity surging through your swollen pussy. Slumping your head back into the pillowy moss, you focus on steadying your breathing. Your vision is blurry, and things are becoming hazy, but you don’t want this moment to end.

“Lak... Want more. Please.” You moan weakly, eyes crossing before they roll to the back of your head. You’re already all fucked out from his fingers alone yet you’re begging him for more. And he can see it, too. The way you’re just so spent, body trembling beneath him as he continues to stimulate your rubbed out sweet spot.

“I am not like you, tahni. I only have three.” He chuckles softly, curling them inside you as a reminder.

“Ngh! Y-you know what I mean. I want you...” Your voice falters, hand reaching down to grab his erection, a little surprised that he’s still this hard. “I want this. Please.”

His features soften, apprehension filling his lower stomach just from the jaded look you’re throwing his way. “Are you sure? We can do it another time.” He insists, feeling how tight you still are, despite taking three of his fingers.

“No, please no.” You pant as you shake your head lethargically, shimmying your hips closer to his. “Need-you-to-fuck-me!” You cry out, stringing the desperate words together so quickly it almost sounds like one.

“Tahni.” He utters just over a whisper, staring down at you with eyes of concern. Not only can he see the exhaustion on your face, but he can feel it too. It travels in waves through the bond, right into him. And after such a long day, iknimaya and all, it’s expected. “It will be too much for you right now.”

“You said, ‘anything I please with’. Right?” A tremulous, soft voice reminds him of his deal, knowing he’s a man of his word, albeit few. He chews on his bottom lip, a little impressed with you. He heaves a heavy sigh of defeat, positioning himself between your clammy thighs as he hoists your legs over his.

“Tell me if it hurts. Okay?” He leans over you, using a thumb at the base of his cock to line it up with your entrance.

You nod lazily before tucking your chin to your chest to witness you become one. The crown of his cock prods at your tight opening, looking massive in comparison. For a second you even question yourself how that will fit inside you. It’s way bigger than his three fingers combined, not to mention, much, much lengthier.

It bucks against your innocence, slipping and gliding over your sticky clit. You both grunt in unison, tension snapping just to rebuild all over again. His hips snap back, all four fingers now gripping the base of his cock.

An unexpected wave of anxiety crashes through you, making you cling onto your mate. You bury your hot face into his shoulder, completely abandoning the plan to witness it strip you of your innocence. He can feel your hesitation through the bond, holding his position in case you change your mind.

“Do it, ma’ lak. Put it inside me.” You mumble quietly into the dip of his collarbone, inching your hips closer to his.

He pushes into you slowly, breaking past the resistance of your tightness, mushroomy tip liding in with an audible pop. You bite down onto his shoulder, hard enough to sink the full length of your canines into his cyan coloured skin, staining it red with his blood. It muffles your pained, little cry, tear drops crashing onto the swell of your cheeks.

Fuck, it hurts.

It hurts so much that it makes your body shake and shiver underneath him as it tries so desperately to adjust to his size. It burns and stings and oh – it’s just too much. It feels as if something were lodged between your joints, snapping you open with such force.

His movement comes to a standstill, as if he were frozen in time. He grimaces, unsure if its from the way you’re pinching him or if its from how deep your little canines are sunk into him. Or maybe it’s your pain transferring to him, but he feels it too.

“You okay? Feeling pain?” Ralak’s voice is tender, a gentle hand moving to release your bite.

You unlatch from his shoulder, leaving open puncture wounds for blood to trickle down his chest. The pain fades at a torturously slow rate, but any little movement causes a new wave of fire to shoot down your legs. Surely, just like with his fingers, if you stay here for a bit, it’ll fade completely.

“No. Haah. Just give a m-minute.” You pant out a lie, breath hitching at the last word.

“Y/n. I can feel your pain.” He utters breathily, pulling out as gently as he can.

“Don’t. Please, I want this.” Your voice is breathy, yet strained, legs quickly locking around his hips to push him in a little deeper. You let out a sudden, high-pitched whimper, burning sensation worsening. Your legs begin to shake uncontrollably around him, sending little vibrations up his spine.

“You’re shaking. Another time.” Ralak says sternly, unhooking your legs from around his hips.

“No, please.” A pathetic little plea falls from your lips.

He shakes his head, grinding his teeth together to deal with the guild bubbling in his chest. “Your body isn’t ready.” He mutters, pulling out tenderly. The more he moves, the more the scent of blood fills the air. He can feel it trickling down his back, but it’s the least of his concerns right now.

“I-I am ready. Please Lak, just give me a moment to –”

Ralak looks down as he pulls out, head snapping back up to reveal the panic etched into his features. “You – oh Eywa. You are bleeding, tahni.”

“It’s okay. I’m okay.” You coo with quivering lungs, cupping his cheek to make him look in your eyes. “Really. Look at me, Ralak.” You give him a wobbly smile, only for him to pull away from your grip.

“I am hurting you. Look.” Two fingers pinch your chin, pulling it down to avert your gaze. A thin layer of blood coats your inner thighs, some smearing on his too. Your eyes snap back up to his, which are glazed over with panic and guilt. He pulls out of you fully, sitting in the dip of his feet to have a proper look between your legs. “I am so sorry tahni... I-I thought I stretched you enough.”

“Lak...” You whisper shyly, trembling legs slowly closing to hide yourself from his eyes.

“We must go.” He declares, carefully scooping you up into his arms, holding you close to his chest as he makes his way out of the cave. Calling for his tsurak, he glances down at your face to see it screwed with discomfort. The guilt weighs heavy in his heart, driving him to act quickly.

So quickly that you don’t even realise that you’re already on the back of his tsurak, soaring at full speed through the water. You were truly fine, just a little sore and uncomfortable, but certainly nothing that required this level of speed. The ride back is uncomfortably quiet, Ralak trying his hardest to regulate his emotions. You can see the restrained look on his face, tightened brows, and thin lips.

“I’m alright, my love. You don’t have to go so quickly.” You try to reassure him with a small voice. He huffs a sigh in response, clenching and unclenching his jaw, biting back his feelings to focus on remedying the situation. “’ts not your fault.”

Eyes slamming shut, he shakes his head slightly, as if he were saying you were wrong. He holds you closer, opening his eyes to glance down at your blood-stained thighs. Eyelids fluttering, he looks back out into the distance, watching his marui pod appear larger and larger as he approaches it.

Within seconds he’s dismounted his skimwing, and takes large, quick strides to the cave. Your legs dangle over his forearm, other arm supporting your back as he carries you bridal style into the water. A shaky hand reaches for his kuru, holding it in the air to expose his pink, tendrils.

“Tsaheylu, Lak.” You groan needily, wrapping your tail around his thigh.

“Soon, tahni. Let me clean you first.” He hums tenderly, glancing down at your body one last time before slowly submerging you in the water.

The lake is always warmer in the nights, glowing around you from its bioluminescent properties. Supporting your back with one hand, he carefully parts your legs and cleans you gently. Your eyes remain locked onto his face, his clenching jaw, his flattened ears – the way the column of his throat protrudes when he swallows.

The guilt is evident on his face, and it worsens the more he looks at what he’s done to you. And when he moves down to the flesh between your legs, you can’t help but jolt, legs closing around his hands as you wince a little. His head whips towards you, worried eyes boring into yours. You give him a quick smile, nodding that he can continue.

Hand parting your legs once more, he ensures to be extra gentle and tender, even leaning in to see if he’s doing it right. After he’s finished, he bathes the rest of your body, rinsing the sweat and grime out of your hair after such a long night.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to –” You mutter, trying to stand so you can have your turn at bathing him.

“No need.” He says quickly, scooping you back into his arms with ease, making his way up to his marui. “How are you feeling?”

“I feel fine, Lak. Honestly. You could’ve kept going, I just needed a moment.” You blubber out, trying to wriggle from his clutch.

He scoffs, shaking his head as he ducks under the flap to his marui. “You are like a baby.” He walks over to his bed and lays you down carefully, treating you as if you were really wounded. The leaves of your top stick to your breasts, wet and saturated from such a long bath.

“And you were about to fuck –” You mutter under your breath, to be cut off by Ralak’s glare. You let out a small sigh, a little frustrated from how the night played out. He walks towards a shelf on the opposite side of his marui, giving you the opportunity to sit up, and scoot over to the edge of the cot to get up.

His ears perk up from the shuffling sounds, but his back remains turned to you as he mutters the word. “Sit.”

Defeated, you plop back down onto the soft bedding, thumbs twiddling with one another as you wait for him to come back. Meanwhile he extends his arm to the top shelf, back muscles flexing as he retrieves two wooden drinking bowls and a bottle of liquid.

It’s mauve, and iridescent, swirling around as it sloshes from side to side. He pops it open with his back teeth, spitting the cork into a woven basket on the floor. He plans to cut it into two later, saving a piece each for your songchords.

Sitting next to you on the end of his cot, he hands you the wooden cup, nudging it closer to you with raised brows for you to take it from him. Reluctantly, you take it, a little confused as to what he’s giving you to drink. He pours the thick liquid into the cup, stopping after a few glugs. Then he pours himself one, too, waiting until the liquid touches the lip of his cup.

“Drink.” He orders, bringing his cup to his mouth as he waits for you to do the same.

Bringing it to your lips, your face screws with disgust, head turning away to get the smell out your face. You lower the cup into your lap, looking at him with an expression of perplexment.

How could he drink such a foul-smelling thing?

“Erm, no thanks... I’ll pass.” You barely get out, afraid to take a breath in.

His ears flatten in frustration, lip twitching ever so slightly. He knows this will help with the pain, so why are you being so stubborn? He doesn’t utter a single word, beady eyes piercing into yours.

“Okay. Okay. I’ll drink it... Eywa.” You say the great mother’s name like a curse, bringing the cup to your lip.

You take a sip, face contorts with revulsion, eyes watering as the liquid burns on the way down your throat. Your tongue darts out in repulsion as your eyes flicker up to him, brows raising inquisitively to ask if you drank enough.

His lips purse, and he shakes his head slightly. “All.”

You heave a sigh, rolling your eyes a little before bringing the cup back up to your lips once more. You feel a single finger rest under your hand, nudging it upwards to tilt the cup all the way back, encouraging you to take a swig. You knock it back, gulping down the viscous liquid and stick your tongue out for proof.

He nods in approval, slight smirk curling the side of his lips. He knocks his back in one go, letting out ‘ahh’ after the liquid travels down his throat. Not even a wince. He seems to enjoy the burn.

For you, the after taste is even worse, making your nose scrunch and the tears overflow from your eyes. He’s quick to wipe them away with his thumb, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear before retracting his hand entirely.

“What did I just drink?” You croak, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Fermented fruit. Pxir...” He looks at you, “Liquor.” Ralak takes the cup from you and refills it, as well as his.

Plunking it back into your hand, you look at him through pinched brows. “What does it do?”

He brings his to his wet lips, exhaling a sigh of guilt. “Pain. It will help with the pain.” He sighs, throwing his head back and swallowing the pxir in one, loud gulp.

Your features soften when you realize how he knows such a thing. “Is this what you had when you did your own tattoo?”

“Yes. Not the same. But the same effect.” He chuckles a little, impressed by your ability to put things together so quickly.

“Ah. I see.” You say, looking at the liquid as it swirls around in your cup. “So if I drink enough of this, you’d do my tattoo for me?”

“Sure.” He utters, fighting the little smile creeping on his face as he watches you chug the pxir. “But tomorrow. I have already caused you a great deal of pain today.”

Another sigh makes its way out your nose. You give up entirely, handing him the empty cup and laying down in the bed. Your bed. In your marui pod. Wondering, heavy eyes begin exploring the pod all on their own. It feels like the stilts holding the roof up are spinning, making you feel a bit woozy.

“Ralak. I feel weird.” You hiccup, heavy lidded eyes threatening to close for good. “All... bubbly.”

“Ah. My tahni.” He hums softly, sliding into bed next to you. “It will do that to you. Get some rest, okay?” He rakes his fingers through your hair, using his fingertips to massage your scalp.

“Lak. I want – I want to try again, doesn’t hurt anymore.” You blabber incoherently, trying to open your legs for him. Reminded of the pain that he brought you, Ralak shakes his head, closing your legs gently and covering you with the sheet. Snuggling into his warm chest, your eyes fall shut for the night.

“Another day.” Ralak whispers, planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

Unable to sleep, he spends the rest of the night swigging straight from the bottle, bathing, and checking up on you. You’d wake every so often to him parting your legs, checking to see if you were alright.

He thought nothing of it, just one of his duties as your mate to care for you. But you’d be quick to shove away his hand, mumbling to him not to look despite the coy smile on your face, all from knowing he cares that much.

When he finished the bottle, he was woozy enough to crawl back into bed with you and snuggle behind you. His eyes finally closing when the first rays of sunshine beam through the marui pod, the same rays that wake you up.

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scarlettohairdye · 5 days

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Home Ownership Was a Mistake

This is for @trickybonmot, who may or may not use some of these stories in a fic.

Okay. So.

In the year of our lord 2010, my wife and I were lucky enough to be gifted $20k by my parents, which in those days (given it was a historically low point for real estate prices in Seattle) was enough for a down payment on a house. It was an astounding confluence of luck and privilege that led to us being homeowners, because if they gave us the same money now it would go precisely nowhere.

Anyway, it was not enough money for a large house, or a fancy house. We looked at a lot of places, only some of which were move-in ready (and one of which was absolutely just a tear-down) and eventually settled on our current place, which is a 1910 bungalow with a detached garage that was finished and turned into a studio.

Was it the most aesthetically pleasing house when we bought it? No. The walls were white, the carpet was light beige, and the paint had seen better days. That said, it was move-in ready and the owner was pretty desperate to sell, so we took it!

The inspector let us know that some of the wiring was still the old knob-and-tube, so we'd want that updated sooner rather than later, but it looked pretty good. About half the outlets were grounded, so it didn't stop us from plugging in three-prong appliances. We just had to use more extension cords than maybe we'd prefer.

The Electrical

The first big house thing we paid for was to have the entire place rewired. Our circuit breaker was a mystery, we didn't have enough outlets, and we were tired of being stuck with specific layouts of our stuff due to the lack of grounded outlets. We were expecting about half the wiring to be up to code, and the rest would need an update.

Spoiler alert: HAHAHAHAHAHA.

The rewiring took about a week, and every morning the electrician sat down with us and told us what new fire trap he'd uncovered.

"Yeah, so the knob and tube wiring going to the lights in the ceiling? Knob and tube gets hot when it's running, and yours is under three layers of insulation."

"You know how you thought your outlets were grounded? They weren't, actually, the ground wire just went elsewhere into the house and wasn't connected to anything."

"So there's wiring in your crawlspace? Whoever put that in nailed some sheets of wood paneling over it, so we had to rip the wood paneling out to access it."

I think the job was about $15k when it was done, we had many many more outlets, and our house was no longer one bad day from lighting itself on fire. Victory, I guess?

The Studio Window

This was leaking a bit, and we knew it was leaking when we moved in. (South facing walls get all the weather in our region.) We were not handy enough to replace it ourselves at the time and we also didn't have money because I got laid off shortly after we bought the house and was making my living doing costume commissions. Solution: Trade costuming work to an acquaintance who did carpentry.

The window, we discovered, was not so much a finished window as it was a single sheet of glass sandwiched between some boards.

Badly.

The carpenter was not entirely she that she was qualified for the job, but she did manage to remove the single sheet of glass and replace it with a window that was insulated and actually capable of opening. She used caulk around it. It was way better than we had before. Maybe someday we'll have both studio windows replaced by a contractor who actually does windows, but this is not that day!

The Siding

The cedar shingles were no longer cutting it at a certain point, so we had the house resided. (Houses are money pits, in case you didn't know.) This was a $30k job (MONEY PIT!) and had several layers of badness.

Bad: Our house had no insulation. It was cedar shingles over the original siding, with nothing in between that original siding and our INTERIOR WALLS. There was occasionally a newspaper. Our PM asked if we wanted insulation? And we said yes, please!!! We did not have a lot of time to think about insulation or research the best type, so it's just sheets of the pink fiberglass stuff in there, but it exists and we have it now!

Worse: Underneath our laundry room was a horrorshow. The laundry room is an addition that was added to our house probably sometime in the 50s? And, uh...

Well, the siding guys pulled off the siding, took a look at what was under it, and immediately called the project manager. The project manager came out, took a look, and then called us. He said that the siding guys thought it really needed to be reinforced and stabilized before they re-sided it, which is very fair, because I think the people who built it originally were drunk when they did it. It was a fucking Wild West cowboy construction situation under there.

Yes, you heard that right: A LOAD-BEARING SHINGLE.

Our project manager also informed us that the siding guys couldn't do the reinforcement, because they're just siding guys. They don't do structural. This is very fair.

It also needed to be done by Monday so we could stay on schedule for the siding work.

We learned this on Friday.

I immediately called my general contractor dad and got his voicemail, because (I remembered belatedly) he was in Mexico getting dental surgery. There was absolutely no way we could get another contractor out to do the work over a single weekend.

It was up to us.

My wife and I (mostly my wife) went HAM on it. We rented big jacks from the tool library to prop the laundry room up while we replaced one of the entirely rotten support poles. One of the big telephone poles was so wrecked with dry rot we could kick it out of place. (It didn't even touch the BIG ROCK that was supposed to be its foundation!!! It was floating!!!) Several of the joists were also fucked, so we ran new joists alongside them and married them together. My wife dug holes while crouched in a 4' high space, filled the holes with gravel, compacted it by putting a piece of wood on top of it and hitting it with a mallet, and then installed an entire additional support system from 4x4s and deck blocks. She actually attached the support system TO THE FUCKING HOUSE, which was a big improvement from the way it was originally held on by vibes and paint.

Here's a tasty little before and after:

(Yeah, see how that visible joist at the front just... stops at the far left? There's a new joist right behind it now.)

This was completed with resounding cries of, "Good enough!" and "It's better than it was before!" The siding guys thought it was fine and sided over it. Someday hopefully we will be able to afford to tear the whole thing down and rebuild it with a properly poured foundation, but in the meantime the spin cycle on the washing machine no longer shakes the whole house. Victory?!

Ridiculous: The purple paint saga. My wife and I are lesbians who tend toward maximalism in our decoration style. Construction companies find this baffling. We paid extra to our siding company to get the extended color choices (if you order the siding with the color baked in it lasts longer, but you're limited to a particular range of colors) and spoiler alert: 90% of them are boring as fuck. We basically paid extra to have access to 400 shades of white and 400 more shades of beige. There were like three saturated colors in the whole book. Pathetic.

Anyway, we chose the one nice teal that was available and decided we'd paint the door purple, since all the purple colors were gray at best. The project manager then forgot to put in our order, and when he remembered he'd forgotten, ordering our siding through his company would have pushed back the start time by six weeks. We could still make the original start time if we ordered through a different company doing the same thing, though!

Me, immediately: And we wouldn't be restricted to your color palette, right? Him: Yeah, they can do custom colors. Me, slapping down a color card called "Fully Purple": MAKE IT PURPLE.

Bless this man, he went to the siding company and asked for Fully Purple. They told him they couldn't do that color, and also is he sure anyone wants this color? He called them on the phone and informed them yes, we did want that color, and also that he'd worked for them and he knew damn well they could do that color, they'd just have to custom mix it, so they needed to do their fucking jobs. Suitably chastened, they finally sent us a sample of the siding, and it was... okay. It was purple for sure, but a little de-saturated. Not the purple of our hearts.

I asked if they'd actually started manufacturing our siding yet or just sent the color sample. The project manager confirmed they hadn't, and if we ordered this imperfectly-purple siding now, it would be several weeks before we could get started.

"We're gonna paint," I decided, and our project manager put in the orders.

The paint store called him and said, "Hey, are you sure you want this color?" Yes, he assured them, that's the right color.

The guys doing the painting opened up the can and then called him and said, "Are you sure this color?" and he told them yes! They want that color!

At this point I told him he should just start responding with, "They're lesbians!!! Yes! They want the purple! They're lesbians!!!"

Eventually we cleared every hurdle god and the construction industry put in front of us, and now our house is Fully Purple.

It also has insulation, wiring that won't kill us, and a laundry room that hopefully won't collapse anytime soon. We got a heat pump installed that took shockingly little time and worked immediately, and our next project will be having the roof redone. Check back in to find out what fresh horror awaits us then! I think it'll be a second roof under our existing roof made of lead and asbestos tiles, probably!

#home improvement #it's a nightmare #choices were made #they were bad

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cinnaminsvga · 2 months

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Harana Preview | Jungkook

harana (n.): the act of wooing someone by serenading them

→ summary:

Unwilling to settle down with you after five years of dating, Jeon Jungkook decides to break up to chase after his dreams. In the aftermath, you leave your hometown, desperate to forget your past and relearn what it means to be on your own. Two years later while on your way to work, you pass by a familiar voice singing songs about a girl he had left behind.

{or alternatively: Jungkook still sings the love songs that he wrote for you. He still means them, too.}

→ genre: busker!au, exes to lovers, fluff, angst → warnings: jimin is insane and kinda crude (he has some issues going on), jungkook is a pathetic wet bunny but he's trying his best, so much yearning, ambiguous ending??? but my god there is hope!! the humanity of it all!! → words: anticipated 10-15K → a/n: what da hell who is she... HEY SO its been a while since ive written anything longer than 2k words and i really wanted to get back into writing, if only for practice... plus this is part of my heart full of hugot series that i teased literally eons ago and i want to finish it before the year ends... pray for my sanity ( ; ω ; )

part of the “heart full of hugot” series

As you struggle to pull yourself together, a familiarly loud voice rings outside the edge of your consciousness. “Hey, Y/N! Fancy seeing you here…” Jimin greets you, his usual jovial demeanor halting midway when he sees your panicked expression. He clears his throat, perplexed. “Umm… Are you alright there, girl? You’re looking a little pale.”

You do not even have the mental capacity to wonder why Park Jimin was miraculously early to his shift, nor why he seems genuinely worried for you. Rather, all you can do is wave him off and use what little time you have before the restaurant opens to steel yourself for hours of melodious torture.

“I’m fine, Park. You should get to work,” you grit out, wiping your sweaty palms on your uniform. Normally, Jimin would have teased you about the obvious wrinkles on your skirt.

“You’re not the boss of me,” Jimin huffs, always the contrarian. He thinks better of it, however, and softens his tone. “Are you feeling sick or something? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

You freeze, perhaps giving yourself away a little. “I’m fine,” you repeat.

“You know, if you refuse to elaborate, I’m going to have to retract your shower privileges,” Jimin taunts with a smirk.

You feel a migraine growing by your temple, making you wince. God, why must men be the source of all your problems?

“I’m just… a little annoyed by the busker outside the restaurant,” you eventually admit, trying to be vague. Unfortunately for you, Jimin hates beating around the bush and would never take your crap if he knows something is up.

Unable to withstand the weight of his unimpressed stare, you continue, “He was someone I used to know, that’s all.” You aren’t going to be any more specific than that, though you imagine Jimin gets the picture. You zip your lips, hoping to whoever is causing you pain that Jimin would somehow let the matter drop and leave you to your misery.

You brace yourself for his onslaught of questioning to come, and… it doesn’t happen. Instead, when you glance at Jimin, he is mysteriously stone faced. You wait for him to speak for what feels like a few minutes, but he doesn’t show any signs of wanting to tease or ridicule you. He simply watches you with a pensive expression. You can barely stop yourself from staring back at him, slack-jawed at his silence.

Of course, you aren’t just going to question your luck, or what little you have at least. So, you stay silent back and purse your lips uncomfortably.

Finally, Jimin seems to snap out of his strange reverie. He fixes you with a bizarrely sympathetic grin, patting you affectionately on the back. “I see… Well, if you ever need a drink tonight, head over to the bar for a little sip. I got you covered,” is all he says in response before sashaying away.

That was so fucking weird. You want to chase after him, perhaps beat the truth out of him. Jimin is nothing but a scheming dick, and you aren’t about to let him roam free with such sensitive information about yourself. Just as you’re about to stomp his ass (perhaps to relieve some of the building tension from your weary soul), your manager pops his head from his office door.

“Y/N! Make sure you’re logged into the booking system. There’s going to be a party of 20 coming in about an hour,” he reminds you, shooting you an apologetic look. You nod back with a sigh, swiping the booking tablet from the hostess desk and scrolling through the logs. Sure enough, it is going to be a busy night despite being a Monday evening. Perhaps a little busier than usual, in fact.

Whatever. You will use whatever distraction you can get, and perhaps the approaching noise from the restaurant patrons will be enough to drown out the sound of his voice.

You aren’t religious by any means, but you pray to whatever higher power exists that Jeon Jungkook doesn’t somehow decide to enter the restaurant. Stay outside, you plead. Outside the restaurant and your life, if possible.

Throughout the evening, you do your best to push aside the memories that threaten to resurface. You greet customers with a smile, lead them to their tables, and ensure their dining experience is pleasant despite the anxiety poisoning your insides. It's a routine you've perfected over time, a shield against the chaos of your emotions.

As the night wears on, you can feel Jimin's eyes on you from across the restaurant. You sneak glances back at him, and you blanch at his pitying gaze. If the restaurant had been slightly less crowded, you would have flipped him off.

He’s probably enjoying my suffering, you think darkly. Unwilling to give him the satisfaction, you straighten up and do your best to appear more unaffected. Just as you do so, you can hear Jungkook perfectly hitting a soulful high note.

“I’m so sorry for thinking I was strong,” you whisper to the universe. “Forgive me for my insolence.” You clench your fist in anguish, ignoring the confused looks from the customers in front of you.

By the time your shift comes to a close, you are completely and utterly drained. You feel like a snail that has been continuously salted over the past eight hours, and you cannot help but cheer in relief when the clock finally strikes two in the morning. You have to wait for the last few diners to make their leave, but otherwise you are ready to let your bed swallow you whole.

You stand by your hostess desk, leaning your head against it with a defeated sigh. Jungkook’s voice had died down only a few minutes ago, and you hope that by this point he has mercifully left the premises. You want to take a peek to make sure, but just as you’re about to make your way to the door, you feel a hand on your shoulder stop you in your tracks.

“‘Sup, bitch.” Jimin still has that weird, pitying gaze pointed at you, though his words don’t match it. “Are you okay to go home alone tonight? I can bring your dumb ass home if you want.”

You shove his hand away, ready to bite his head off when you think better of it. If Jimin drives you home, then that lowers the chances of seeing Jungkook down to pretty much zero.

“You know what? Thanks,” you grouse. Jimin smiles at you winningly, and the image of it brings a shiver down your spine. You hit him, creeped out. “Hey. Stop that, will you? You’re being really weird?”

Jimin scoffs, crossing his arms. “Me? Weird? At least I don’t look like a damn firework ready to explode just because my cringelord ex-boyfriend is singing sappy love songs outside—”

“Shut the fuck up,” you seethe, stomping on his foot. He yelps in pain and slaps your shoulder in retaliation.

“Ouch! Watch your ogre feet! My shoes are worth twice your monthly rent I’ll have you know,” he bristles. He breathes deeply, likely finding his inner calm (which you doubt exists). “But because I’m so nice, I’ll ignore your earlier transgression and blame it on your underdeveloped amygdala.”

You don’t know what’s more surprising: the fact that Jimin knew what an amygdala was or that he was forgiving you in the first place. “Whatever. Let’s finish closing up and then head out. I’m exhausted.”

#my wips #bts scenarios #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts x reader #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #i gotta stop making jimin a gremlin in these LMAOOO #at the very least he isnt insane in his installment of this series #idk who i should write for next... maybe hoseok? its been a while since ive written for him (or written anything at all lol)#i need to stop making hoseok evil... new year new me #OK ANYWAY i'll post the entire thing soon-ish... yippeeeee

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foolishlovers · 2 months

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CO-WORKER AUs: Below you can find a list of Good Omens AUs in which Crowley and Aziraphale are co-workers. (oh my god they were co-workers)

[Requested by anon. You can request more fic recs here.]

Hit me with your ledger by KissMyAsthma (G, 1k) Corporate accountant Aziraphale has been infatuated with his coworker Crowley for a long time, but he has done nothing about it. One day, opportunity strikes and… Sometimes, an accidental nude is all it takes to score a date.

Get Down by AppleSeeds (T, 3k) When Aziraphale calls downstairs asking them to send up someone to fix the fax machine in his office, he doesn't expect them to send the most handsome and stylish man he's ever encountered in his entire life. Hopefully he won't end up doing anything foolish to embarrass himself.

The Piano Serpent by journeytogallifrey (T, 3k) Aziraphale owns The Flaming Sword, which is one of the premier gay bars in London. Everyone knows this… except for their pianist, Crowley. While the regulars take bets over whether he's the clueless straight person he seems, Aziraphale just tries to prevent himself from falling further. But one night Crowley plays a song written specially to honor their regulars, and Aziraphale can't hold the truth in any longer. How will Crowley react? Will the truth really set them free?

Hold the Lift by CemeteryAngel725 (T, 5k) Crowley just wants to get to work on time, but when he gets stuck in a lift with new guy Aziraphale, he ends up with a lot more than he bargained for. See, Aziraphale has this list of 36 questions…

!False (It's Funny Because It's True) by MirjamOmens (E, 6k) Aziraphale drew a long breath through his nose. Crowley, of course it had to be Crowley. The new guy in the sales department, who would promise potential customers just about anything to close a deal. Arrogant, annoying – and wildly, stupidly attractive. Aziraphale hated him. Aziraphale is a stellar software architect and a project manager, who is so done with the sales department selling unrealistically scheduled and budgeted projects. And he definitely doesn't have a crush on anyone, thank you very much.

Bang This Out? by crepesandoysters (E, 9k) As far as work friendships go, Aziraphale and Crowley have won the jackpot. They work well together and know how to make each other laugh, the whole metaphorical package. They could even be called best friends. Or, at least, they could be called that until today. Today comes with a kiss, and the kiss comes with more. A lot more if it were up to them. Except that their workplace seems to have other ideas.

Cock Tales by TawnyOwl95 (E, 12k) Crowley’s love life is on the rocks so he finally swears off men. Typical that his new job places him with a co-worker who's so straight up sexy. Or in which, Aziraphale tries to mix things up, Crowley is shaken and Anathema is a right stirrer. But could a relationship be worth a shot?

I'm Beginning to See the Light by ineffabildaddy (E, 15k) There was Crowley - the paragon of cool, the overlord of apathy, breezing easily through each and every one of their exchanges and giving no fucks while doing so; then there was the anachronistic, cloying Aziraphale, trying and failing not to live life like a Thomas Hardy protagonist, and giving many fucks indeed. Or: Aziraphale has quite the pash on his colleague Crowley, who seems resolutely disinterested in him. As their annual Christmas party progresses, it appears that Crowley may not be as disinterested as Aziraphale first thought.

Wild Hearts by foolishlovers (E, 15k, WIP) In the idyllic English countryside, far from the hustle and bustle of the big city, two teachers at Willowbrook Hall set out to transform their students’ lives through the world of theatre. But for Mr. Crowley, the challenge of navigating his long hidden feelings and dear friendship with Mr. Fell may prove to be the greatest drama of all.

House Style by soft_october (M, 24k) “Since that's all settled, the real question is did he give you his number?” Anathema laughed. “He was looking at you the way you look at lunch.” “Forget lunch!” Michael declared. “He was looking at you the way you were looking at him!” Aziraphale is content in his job as an editor at Celestial Publishing, though he could go for a bit less of doing his boss' job for him. But everything goes a bit screwy when the CEO brings in a consultant with plans to build a program that will turn the entire editorial department on its head. If only he wasn't so handsome.

All Lines Are Open by TawnyOwl95, FeralTuxedo (E, 21k) Anthony Crowley, bored host of a trite call-in radio show on Tadfield FM, has very few pleasures in life beyond annoying his long-suffering producer Aziraphale. When a caller reports suspicious activity at the abandoned Tadfield Manor, Crowley is determined to investigate, dragging Aziraphale along. Both of them are going to get more than they bargained for. A local radio AU

Heavenly Wicked Cafe by WaitingToBeBroken (T, 28k, WIP) There is a terribly rude barista that makes amazing coffee and a saint of a barista, whose coffee tastes vile. And they are in love.

i've found a way (a way to make you smile) by curtaincall (T, 40k) Crowley worked in Sales. He had never intended to work in Sales. It had just sort of happened. One moment, there he’d been, a newly minted university graduate off to change the world, exquisitely useless Philosophy degree in hand, and now here he was, having sauntered vaguely downwards into a Hell that consisted mainly of cold-calling new customers and sucking up to existing ones. AU based on The Office.

First Class (Hons) Christmas, University of Tadfield. by heloluv (M, 41k) Dr. A.Z. Fell is a renowned literature tutor at the prestigious University of Tadfield. December is upon the University, and Dr. Fell is leading the Christmas Charity Drive. He needs volunteers. Dr. A.J. Crowley is a skilled plant ecologist who recently began his tenure at UoT. He can't stand Christmas, and nothing at all could ever possibly convince him to partake in "festivities". Until a certain literary expert catches his eye. A Christmas and New Years fic, in which Aziraphale teaches Crowley how to enjoy the most wonderful time of the year.

because thinking makes it so by summerofspock, NaroMoreau (E, 41k) It's supposed to be an exchange. An arrangement. Something to make them both feel better and less lonely. But Crowley's never had the brightest ideas.

Tadfield's Finest by angelsnuffbox (E, 51k) The sleepy town of Tadfield is thoroughly shaken by the arrival of DI Crowley. Where barely anything ever happened before, there is now a bustle of low grade criminal activity, and everyone knows where to point the blame. Gabriel thinks he's a bad omen for the town, many others are quick to agree. Meanwhile, Aziraphale from SOCO just thinks he's hot. Ridiculously so.

Golden Handcuffs by seekwill (E, 70k) Far from any city, near the Scottish coast, Tadfield College has a celebrated history, an unrivaled academic reputation, and two departments at war. When the Biology and English departments are forced to share a building, Senior Lecturer and botanist Anthony Crowley finds himself drawn into the orbit of the polite but strange English professor, Dr. Aziraphale Fell. As the new term begins, two academics navigate the politics of both their offices and academia, and try to solve the puzzle of one another.

Sugar And Spice by SylWritesStuff, ladydragona (E, 95k, WIP) Queer technology giant Anthony J. Crowley is just about ready to throw in the towel after relationship after relationship has failed, but there's a new barista at the company coffee shop and he's cute and sweet and Crowley's never been able to resist blond hair and blue eyes. The tabloids will have a field day, they always do, but his assistant is getting married and a temp is needed. A temp who really isn't very good at making complicated coffees, has past experience in reception, and absolutely no idea that the latest complicated coffee order came from the owner himself. Aziraphale only knows that he's handsome, patient, and was the first person who told him he was doing well. How could he refuse the temp position? Or, he soon discovers, more.

[you can find more fic rec masterposts here]

#hope this helps!! reblog/likes/replies always so appreciated 💜#good omens #good omens fics #good omens fic rec #good omens fanfic #aziracrow #aziracrow fic #aziraphale x crowley #good omens human au #co-workers au #gomens fanfic #foolish recs #go fic masterpost

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mommytauriel · 1 year

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+ · 。~ they don’t know about us

pairing: sihtric x f! reader | genre: secret relationship, fluff, tiny bit of angst? | warnings: blood, cursing, just the normal tlk warnings, kissing, kinda suggestive at one point? (Idk) | wc: 15k+ |

synopsis: “they can’t know about us” a look into sihtric and uhtred’s sister, secret relationship and how they started and how they are now.

note: this fic was me getting back into writing, so that’s my excuse if this is terrible. I had an idea for it, and it went a whole different way and turned out longer than it was supposed to be. I do hope you enjoy it <3 My requests are open!

thank you @dailytlk for letting me use the the lovely gifs <3

You couldn't remember or pinpoint a certain moment when you realized you had feelings for him. Maybe it was when you started noticing that your eyes would always try to find him, or the tension filled eye contact that would leave you breathless. Or the way your cheeks would burn red when he would offer to braid your hair for you.

Sihtric was so charming. The small things he would do for you, the way he would step closer to you if he sensed danger, or the way he would always have you sit closest to the fire so you would be warmer.

He wasn't always like that though, he used to be distant, awkward. And he would try to not be alone with you, even though that's all he wanted. You couldn't blame him though, the first few days of knowing each other weren't the best for a first impression.

From him being with the group of danes that tried to kill you and your brother, to him being your brother's prisoner, then being one of your brothers' men. It was all too confusing and happened too fast. So, you didn't blame him when Sihtric kept his distance and avoided you.

You wouldn't admit it aloud, but it did hurt a little. When he did avoid you. You had seen him become close with Clapa, and even Hild. You weren't mean or sent him dirty looks like Halig did, so you wondered why he didn't try with you. He wasn't rude to you or anything, he just seemed to have no interest in you. And that hurt.

But you were totally wrong. He did have interest in you; maybe a little too much because he would catch his eyes following after you and it also didn't help that you seemed to fill up his thoughts and it made him nervous, he barely knew you. So why did he think of you so much?

Was it because he felt guilty for what he had done? Or was it something more? Whatever the reason was…He didn't know it.

He very much had interest in you, but he just didn't know where the two of you stood. Hild was nice and was quick to forget and forgive what happened. Clapa was easy going and called him tiny dane. Halig didn't like him, and he knew it, Halig made it obvious, and he was okay with that because at least he knew where he stood with them. But with you, he knew nothing.

You had no idea of his conflicting thoughts, you just assumed that he didn't like you. And he assumed that you wanted nothing to do with him after what he's done. God you both were so wrong.

The two of you walked on unknown ground around each other for the first days of knowing each other. You wanted to talk to him, but you didn't have near enough courage to do so and Sihtric was avoiding you to the best of his ability. And he was doing a great job until Halig told you and him to go back and warn Uhtred about the brothers, Sigefrid and Erik.

That was the first time the two of you talked. It was a few words, but it still left a long-lasting impression. You could remember it, like it was yesterday.

The two of you were quietly but quickly walking towards the camp you were staying at. Sihtric was focused on making sure the two of you aren't being followed and you were focused on the…the trees? Okay you weren't focused on anything; you were in fact internally panicking because the two of you were alone.

You had to stop yourself from glancing at him after the third time you tilted your head to look at him. You weren't the most discreet person, and you were afraid that he would notice if you didnt stop. You were walking side by side with some distance between you, but not too much distance. Sihtric wanted to be close to you if something had happened.

“I hope you don't feel offended by Halig’s words, he's normally not like that” you say quietly but loud enough for him to hear you. You tilted your head to look at him before quickly facing forward to watch in front of you.

“It's no problem My lady, I find it amusing” He replies as he looks away from the trees, he was watching to give you a polite smile. He was grateful that you broke the silence because he had no idea how he would have done it, in all honesty he probably wouldn't have.

“Oh i..i'm not a Lady" you say with a shy smile as you stumble over your words. You have been called a lady many times. But it felt different when he said it, it just rolled from his tongue so nicely and you couldn't help but feel flustered at the way he said, ‘My lady’.

“Your brother is a lord is he not” he states smoothly, with a cheeky grin.

You didn't respond to that. Instead, you looked ahead of you, a blush on your face. A blush that Sihtric was quick to notice. He couldn't help but feel proud that he could make you feel flustered so easily. Maybe now he had a small idea on where the two of you stand.

The rest of the walk was silent, not one minute of it being awkward.

The next few days the two of you didn't get a chance to talk much. He was too busy doing things for your brother and you were almost always at your brother's side. So that didn't leave much time for you to talk. And you wouldn't dare talk to Sihtric in front of your brother, he was way too protective and would assume things.

So that left you two to have longing stares, shy smiles. Well shy smiles on your part and cheeky grins on his. His stares would leave you flustered, something that Lady Gisela was quick to notice and quick to tease you about.

The next time the two of you talked was one of the worst days of your life. You were filled with fear and your hands were shaking, But Sihtric was there to help you. He was always there for you.

You were sleeping peacefully in the surprisingly comfortable bed in the inn you were staying in, In Eoferwic. You were tired from the long day you had yesterday, so you fell asleep almost immediately when you layed down.

You woke up in a jolt at the sound of loud footsteps, shouting and the sound of someone being dragged. You quickly toss the sheets off and grab your sword from the nightstand before rushing out of your room, out of the inn and into the streets of Eoferwic following the sound of shouting.

It led you to the front of Eoferwic and the sight in front of you made your heart drop in fear. It was your brother and Halig being pushed into a cage. Your grip on your sword tightens and you move to rush forward and help them, but you're pulled back by someone wrapping their arm around your waist and pulling you into their chest.

“Shh lady we can't help them if you're taken too” Sihtric whispers in your ear and at the sound of his voice you stop pushing against his arm and let him pull you back and out of sight. You wanted to go out there and help them, but Sihtric was right, you could only make it worse for them and yourself.

So, all you could do was lean back against his chest and watch your brother and Halig being sold away as slaves with tears in your eyes. When your brother started shouting that's when it broke you. You quickly turned around and hid your face in Sihtric’s chest as you let your tears fall freely. Your tears falling faster when you felt Sihtric hold you tighter and start whispering that it would be okay in your ear.

You stand in the streets for a few more moments before Sihtric pulls you away and into your room in the inn. You just let him pull you away, not fighting against it. When you get into your room you step away and wipe at your tears, embarrassed to have cried in front of him. Sihtric locks the door behind him, and you grab the chair from the small table and shove it under the door handle for extra protection.

You stood there in shock for a few moments, trying to process everything that just happened. Your thoughts raced a mile a minute, your heart started to feel heavy, and your tears came back. You were scared. Sihtric was quick to pick on the terrified expression on your face.

“Please dont panic y/n, you need to calm down” he says softly as he brings you back into his arms. You froze at first but then let yourself relax in his arms, resting your head on his shoulder. The both of you stood there for a few minutes, you calm down you're breathing and him rubbing your back.

As much as you wanted to stay in his arms you couldn't. You quickly pull away and turn your back to him as you grab your leather bag, stuffing all of your things that were around the room in it, in fast movements.

“We can't stay here Sihtric, we could be next” you tell him in rushed words, your voice cracking in the beginning from crying. Your hands were shaking as you tried to stuff one of your shirts in your bag and Sihtric noticed. He moved closer to you and pulled your hands into his, making you turn to look at him.

“We have to be smart about this y/n” he says softly but still sternly as he rubbed his thumbs over the top of your shaking hands. His hands were warm, and rough but smooth at the same time. Was that even possible? You could feel the veins on his hands, and you were sure that it would bring a blush to your cheeks if they weren't already red from your tears.

Your eyes slowly look away from his hands as they travel up to his strong forearms and to his necklace of thor's hammer. Your eyes lingered on the hammer for a few moments before they drifted up, where you locked eyes with his beautiful brown eyes.

You wanted to look away, telling yourself that it wasn't the time to be getting lost in his enchanting eyes. But you couldn't seem to look away, And neither could he. Sadly, the tension filled eye contact was broken by the sound of someone knocking on the door.

You immediately step away from the door and reach for your sword that was on the unmade bed. Sihtric quickly pulls out his ax, glancing at you before stepping closer to the door.

“It's Hild” A voice says from the other side of the door, and you immediately recognize the voice. You urgently move from behind Sihtric’s protective stance and pull the chair from under the door, your now still hands unlocking the door before throwing it open.

You let out a sigh of relief at the sight of Hild in front of you, quickly pulling her into the room; that felt hot from the actions moments before, before shutting and locking it behind her.

She had immediately brought you in her arms and explained to you what had happened and what to do next. She was going to ride to Winchester, To King Alfred hoping to get help to free your brother and Halig. And you…you were going to stay put.

You immediately refused saying that you should join her, that you couldn't stay. You feared what King Guthred would do to you too. You were shocked that she would ever suggest a thing, but what she said next shocked you even more. King Guthred said that you would still be safe here and have a room in the inn and that no harm would be brought to you. As long as you don't cause any trouble.

You of course refused. He was only saying that because he probably felt guilty for what he had done. How were you supposed to trust his words after all he had done? Hild tried to convince you more, but you didn't listen. But then Sihtric had to open up his pretty mouth ‘Its smart, we could get information from the inside.’

You and Sihtric ended up staying in Eoferwic.

The next time you saw hild was a week and half later when she rode back to Eoferwic, and she wasn't alone. She was joined by a few men, The King's warrior Steapa and your eldest brother. Ragnar Ragnarson.

You were standing next to sihtric, the two of you were in the small market looking at the tables that had random things on them. You didn't want to leave your room at the inn, you wanted to stay in, still fearful after what had happened. But Sihtric asked for you to come out of the room, he thought it would be good for you.

You were smiling at some of the necklaces that were on the table as you admired them and Sihtric was smiling at you, happy to see your smile again. He was about to offer to get you the flower pendant necklace you couldn't seem to take your eyes off, but stops when he hears the sounds of approaching horses.

You carefully set down the necklace and turn around to see who was coming, absentmindedly stepping closer to Sihtric who stood in front of you. You stepped closer to him so you could see who was coming, your hand softly gripping onto his forearm.

But you drop your hand from his arm in shock when you see who it was. It was Hild, Steapa and your big brother Ragnar. The sight of your big brother almost bringing tears to your eyes. You missed him so much and you didn't know you would see him again after hearing that he and Brida were prisoners to king Alfred.

Your eyes followed him as he continued riding out of your sight. You bring your hand up to grab Sihtrics arm as you pull him to follow you so you could get a better look at your brother. You were closer but made sure that you were still out of sight. You were so caught up with the sight of your brother you didn't notice Sihtric snatch an apple as he followed after you.

You wanted to step closer to get a better look of your brother but Sihtric softly pulled you back with a shake of the head. You frown but stay where you are, watching your brother's side profile with a sad smile, he looked healthy, not sickly like he was in the nightmares you had gotten.

“What are you doing?” You asked in a whisper when you noticed Sihtric stuffing the note that Lady Gisela had given the two of you to give to Hild, in the apple. Sihtric hands you the slice of apple he cut off and you take it while watching him with curiosity as you eat the slice.

“Well we can’t exactly walk up and give it to her, can we?” He says with a small smirk before turning around and waving over a young girl. You greet the young girl with a smile, watching as Sihtric bends down to her height and asks her to deliver the apple to Hild. The young girl nods with a smile and makes her way to give it to Hild.

“That was a smart idea” You compliment him, giving him a small smile before turning your head to look at your brother. Sihtric watches your side profile, he could tell how much you've missed your brother, how much you miss all of your siblings. When Hild got the apple she turned her head, where she saw the two of you, she gave you a small nod before looking forward.

Before you knew it the conversation was over and they were turning around on their horses and leaving, all you wanted to do was go and run to your brother, but you couldn't. You couldn't be seen with him. So you just watched them go with sad eyes, praying to the gods that they would find your brother and Halig and come back to get you soon but you knew it would be awhile until you see them again.

The first three months were hard. You were still suffering from the fact that your brother Uhtred was gone. You feared what was happening to him, your imagination ran wild and it tormented you in the night, causing you to have nightmares. Some nights you would wake up to the sound of your own cries or you would be woken up by Sihtric who heard you from the room over.

It got to the point where you were barely sleeping, you were scared from your nightmares and still scared that something was going to happen to you or Sihtric. The paranoia was the worst. Sihtric was worried for you so he tried to get you outside of the room as much as he could. But the stares of the village people and the paranoia you had made it less pleasant.

You were thankful for sihtric because even though the two of you still had your awkward moments and time filled was silence, he was still there for you. He was there to wake you up from your nightmares. He was there to sit next to you and try to comfort you the best he could as you cried for your family.

You were embarrassed at first, that he saw you in such a vulnerable position. You hated crying and you hated when someone saw you cry, hell you didn't even let your brothers see you cry. But with him it was different, he didn't make you feel silly or looked at you in pity. He was just simply there.

By the Fourth month Sihtric moved into your room. Your nightmares had gotten worse and Sihtric wanted to be close to you if anything happened, and it put your mind at ease a little. Knowing that you weren't alone. He claimed that he was fine with sleeping on your floor, he said that he's slept in worse conditions but it didn't make you feel better.

It was two weeks into him sleeping on your floor when you noticed that he also wasn't getting much sleep. You at first thought it was because of your nightmares, but it couldn't be that. You barely had them now that he was with you, his presence really helped. You then realized it was the floor. And after having a very awkward conversation that left the two of you with flushed cheeks, you decided it was best to just share the bed.

You remember how the first night was, it was very awkward.

You folded your arms over the blanket as you laid on your back, looking up at the ceiling. Hoping to find something to focus on instead of the fact that you're about to share a bed with Sihtric. The bed wasn't small, but it wasn't big. It would fit the two of you perfectly where you didn't have to worry about touching if you both stayed on your own side.

You looked away from the ceiling when you felt the bed dip and the covers move alerting you that Sihtric layed down. You had no idea if you should look at him or not, you didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable but you had a feeling he would feel that regardless.

You almost immediately felt the warmth of his body spread under the sheets. Your mind wandering to the thought of what it would feel like if he kept you warm during winter, his arms around you. You had to dig your nails in your palm to make you stop thinking about it before it went too far. You internally prayed that he wouldn't notice the flush on your face from your provocative thoughts. And if he did, you would just blame it on being warm.

You licked your suddenly dry lips and slowly tilted your head to the left to look at his side profile. Sihtric was also laying on his back, his arms also folded over the blanket, his eyes were closed and his face looked relaxed but you could tell from his tense posture he was everything but relaxed.

His hair was still braided; you have never seen him without it braided. Your eyes looked over his face, your eyes lingering on the scars on his face before looking down towards his neck tattoo. You didn't have a tattoo, when you were younger you witnessed your brother Ragnar getting one and you didn't like the sight at all. It was one of the few times you've seen your older brother shed a tear. You wondered if Sihtric cried when he got his. You liked Sihtrics tattoo, it looked good on him.

You brought your eyes back to his face only to lock eyes with his. Your eyes widen and you quickly look away from him and back to the ceiling, biting your lip in embarrassment because he caught you staring at him, well more like checking him out. The air suddenly seemed thicker in the room and you internally cursed at yourself for offering to share the bed. You waited for a few moments and Sihtric didn't say anything, and you were thankful because you didn't think you could form any proper words at the moment.

You turned to your left, laying on your side to lean over to the side table to blow out the candle with a soft blow. You decide not to return to laying on your back, you had hoped laying on your side would put some distance between the two of you. You move your hands under your cheek as you stare out into the dark room. The only sound you could hear was your own heartbeat and the occasional sound from outside.

“Goodnight Sihtric” you say quietly.

“Goodnight” His smooth voice broke the silence and seconds later you felt the bed move and the blankets shift letting you know that he also moved to lay on his side.

You quietly sighed and closed your eyes and before you knew it you were lulled to sleep. The first time in four months where you didn’t stress yourself to sleep in the fear of nightmares. Your mind was too occupied with thoughts of the man who laid on the other side of the bed to think of anything else.

It went like that for Two more weeks, the awkward small talk before bed, the shy whispers saying goodnight. The third week was when your first woke up in his arms. You had rolled over in your sleep and nestled into his side.

You woke up first, well rested and warm. You didn't notice at first until you tried to move; your eyes still closed When his arms pulled you closer into his chest. Your legs were entangled and his arms were wrapped around you, and you were panicking. You quietly and carefully freed yourself from his embrace before getting ready. Sihtric woke up confused, he always woke up first. He noticed your shy behavior during the day but didn't say anything.

It happened a lot more during the rest of the month; you waking up in his arms. Sihtric never brought it up though so you wondered if he even noticed. But he did notice and he didn't want to bring it up, he didn't want you to feel bad or uncomfortable. Because he…he liked it. He didn't like physical touch unless he was the one who initiated it. But with you it was different. He felt warm, comfortable, and safe.

It was just something that stayed not talked about. Neither of you seemed to mind it.

The fifth month was when you noticed that you indeed had feelings for Sihtric. Your small talk before bed became long talks of memories or just random things you've never told anyone. His kind actions and words felt different to you, the eye contact the two of you shared felt so much more intense. All awkwardness was gone, you could tell that the two of you were a lot more comfortable around each other.

You were also in a much better mood, your nightmares rarely happened now. The weather was getting colder, it would be winter soon. You loved winter. The stares from people didn't happen as much, they had gotten used to you. One day you and Sihtric went outside the walls of Eoferwic and found a nice field that isn't too far. It wasn't much but it made you happy so Sihtric tried to take you out to that field as much as he could.

You noticed that sihtric was starting to act differently too, he seemed happier. He wasn't quite like he was months ago. The two of you could talk for hours and not seem to get bored. You even noticed yourself starting to miss him even though he was gone for a few hours. You had gotten attached to him and it scared you a little bit.

His presence itself made you happier, the small things he does for you that would make you feel all warm inside, the long talks that you wish could last forever. Your talks before bed were your favorite. The way Sihtric would look at you as you talked, gods it made your heart flutter.

You and Sihtric were laying in bed, both of you on your sides facing each other, you had your hands under your cheek and he was holding his head up on his palm. It was starting to get chilly as winter was approaching, so you had a fire lit in the fireplace, creating a warm and cozy setting.

“So he pushed him in the lake?” Sihtric laughs, as he listens to the story you were telling, trying to picture a young uhtred getting pushed in the lake. But for some reason he just couldn't, he just pictured the uhtred now giving him an intimidating look.

“Ragnar didn't like that uhtred bested him with a sword, so he grabbed him by the back of his tunic and tossed him in” you smiled and laughed quietly at the memory you had of your brothers. You were so much younger, innocent to the pain of losing your family. You wish you could feel that peace again.

Sihtric who was admiring your face noticed how that happy gleam in your eyes faded into sadness. Sihtric moved closer to you, your legs now almost touching. You blinked a few times, clearing your mind from your sad thoughts before looking back at Sihtric, holding your breath when you noticed how close he was.

“You will see your family soon my lady, don't lose hope” He said in a soft tone as he looked into your eyes. He wished he could say more to comfort you, but he didn't know what to say, he didn't know how it feels to miss a sibling, or anyone really.

You let out a shaky breath and offer him a small smile staring into his warm brown eyes, you've decided that his eyes were your favorite thing to look at. “I won't lose hope”

“Tell me more of your childhood” Sihtric says with a smile, he loved hearing the stories you would tell him about your childhood. You smile softly and start telling him about a memory you had with your sister. Sihtric can't help but admire you as you speak fondly of your family.

You stop talking when you notice the look on Sihtric’s face, he was looking at you but he wasn't listening. You couldn't help but feel flustered under his longing gaze. He hadn't noticed the way you noticed him looking at you yet.

“Sihtric, you're not even listening to me” You laugh, leaning towards him absentmindedly. Sihtric blinks a few times trying to clear his mind from his thoughts, before looking back at you. He just now seemed to notice how close the two of you were and he couldn't help but feel flustered himself.

“Yes i am Lady, you were talking about your first horse that Ragnar got for you” He lies with a grin. He knew for a fact that you told that story last night, he just wanted to tease you a little bit.

“I told you that last night” You gasp dramatically as you slap his shoulder playfully, giving him a fake glare. Sihtric laughs when he sees your expression, while others might seem intimidated by your glare he wasn't, he thought it was adorable; which pissed you off of course.

The two of you spent the next few minutes in playful banter, Sihtric just saying things that he knew would annoy you just so he could see your reaction to it. God he loved rilling you up, And you weren't blind to his jests so you just went along with it.

After your playful banter the two of you were lying in bed, enjoying the sound of silence and the sound of the crackling from the fire. You were laying on your back, your eyes closed. Sihtric was still laying on his side as he now admired your side profile.

Sihtric would often find himself overwhelmed with feelings when he thought or looked at you for too long. The feelings he felt for you he never have felt before, It was all new for him. It was confusing but he wasn't complaining…he just hoped you felt the same way.

It was the next night when he made the first move. The two of you were laying in bed, laying closer to each other than usual. The weather was getting colder and Sihtric was as warm as a fire. You were talking and Sihtric was trying to listen but he just couldn't help but to get distracted with his own thoughts as he looked at you.

He was so enchanted with his thoughts of you that he didn't notice how you stopped telling your story or how you leaned closer to him and asked if he was okay. You were a little worried because he seemed distracted and he had this look on his face you didn't recognize.

Sihtric didn't know what came over him, but when he heard you ask if he was okay as you looked up at him with worry in your eyes, he just couldn't stop himself from what happened next. No one has ever looked at him the way you did, or asked if he was okay.

He mumbles a breathy yes and before he could stop himself he was leaning down and capturing your lips with his. It would be an understatement if you said you weren't shocked. You didn't expect it all.

But as soon as you felt his warm lips on yours all those thoughts went away and all you could focus on was him and his lips. The kiss was hesitant and just as you were starting to feel his soft lips touching yours he was already pulling away.

You were slowly opening your eyes to look up at him, even though the kiss was a few seconds it left you breathless and wanting more. The two of you stared into each other's eyes for a few moments, neither of you saying something. His brown eyes looked into your eyes and he searched for a sign to know what you were feeling, But all he saw was an emotionless stare.

He was about to open his mouth to apologize but shuts up when he feels your warm hands softly grip his chin and pull him down and sealing your lips in a desperate kiss. He closes his eyes and kisses you back just as desperately.

Sihtric felt your hand move from his chin and to his nape, only pulling him closer as the kiss heats up. Your chest was warm and you could feel the tingle in your stomach when his hands started to explore your sides, his warm hands sneaking under your shirt and resting on your bare hip.

Sihtric slowly pulled away from your soft lips, his eyes still closed as he rested his forehead on yours. All Sihtric could feel was the blood rushing through his veins and the way your, now sweaty palms were on his nape and the way your warm skin felt under his hands. Sihtric wanted to open his mouth and talk about what just happened but he decided not to. He wanted to enjoy this moment for as long as he could, the feeling he felt at the moment he has never experienced before. And you could say the same.

You lean forward to lock your lips again in an eager kiss. Sihtric hums in surprise at the feeling of your lips on his again, but he was quick to explore your lips. The sound of surprise he made made you grin in the kiss and pull away to laugh. Sihtric smiles and opens his eyes to see you already looking at him. The way you looked at him with such love was the moment where he realized he reached a point of no return. It would never be the way it used to be.

It was the Sixth month when Sihtric officially asked you to be his and him yours. Ever since your first kiss the two of you couldn't leave each other's side. You were happy and didn't want to leave his side, you truly felt happiness with him and you did not want to lose it. Sihtric, gods all he wanted was to be by your side. You made him feel true happiness and gave him the love and attention he always desired for.

It wasn't until the night before he asked you to be his, was when he realized he never asked you. The two of you did coupley things already and you never brought it up to him that the two of you weren't really together. Sihtric could just continue with the way it was but he didn't want to, he wanted to ask you to be his. And he wanted it to be special, you deserved it. He wanted you to have that happiness.

So that night before he asked you, he stayed awake longer as he thought of ideas to ask you to be his. You were already sleeping in his arms, nestled into his side; your body warm all over from his body heat. Sihtric didn't get much sleep that night as he thought of ways to make it special, there wasn't much he could do with where the two of you were and every good idea, he had he would overthink and decide not to do it. That night he ended up tiring himself out with his thoughts and he soon fell asleep. Dreaming of the two of you in a flower field as you basked in the sun, smiles on your faces. That morning he woke up with a smile, he had the perfect idea.

It was one of the colder days so you decided to stay inside. Sihtric took that as his chance to finish his perfect plan. He kissed your forehead before leaving the room. He came back a few hours later.

You were standing at the small table and cutting some bread that you would use for dinner tonight. You were dressed comfortably, well as comfortable you can get. The room was nice and warm, the fire Sihtric lit before leaving was still burning and it created a nice atmosphere.

You were starting to get a little worried as you thought of Sihtric, he has been gone for a few hours and you were starting to let your paranoid thoughts get to you. Was he okay? It's freezing out, is he freezing? Is he hurt? Did someone hurt him?. Should I go find him?

Your paranoid thoughts stop when you hear the door to your room unlock. You turn around to see Sihtric walking in and closing the door behind him. He has one of his arms behind his back and you raise your eyebrow in suspicion. He was giving you a small smile, his fur coat had some snow on it and so did his shoes, you were too distracted wondering what was behind his back to get onto him about getting snow tracks in the room.

“What's behind your back?” You say straightforwardly, tilting your head to the side to get a better look when he steps closer to you. Only to pout when he moves so you won't see.

“It's a surprise,” Sihtric laughs and gives you a small smirk, knowing that you don't like surprises. His smirk turns to a smile when he sees your pout thinking of how cute you look.

“I hate surprises.”

“I know but i think you will like this one…now close your eyes” He says giving you a nod of reassurance not just for you but also for himself. Even though it was cold out his hands were a little sweaty from his nerves. He hopes you like it…and he hopes you say yes.

You give him a look of suspicion if it was anyone else telling you to do this you would tell them to fuck off. But it was Sihtric, and you trusted him. So you close your eyes and your hands move to your sides, nervously playing with the hem of your shirt.

Sihtric lets out a shaky breath, telling himself that it would be fine. He moves his hand to grab yours but stops and looks down at his sweaty hand before rubbing it on his pants with wide eyes, hoping to clean them off. He says some encouraging words in his head before softly grabbing your hand that was on your side; praying that you don't feel how shaky his hands are.

He takes his hand from behind his back and helps you hold onto what he got you. He whispers a gentle open and watches you nervously for your reaction. Your hand tightens on what you're holding and you open your eyes, looking down at what's in your hand. You feel yourself start to feel emotional at the sight, your eyes starting to water.

In your hand was a bouquet of your favorite flowers that grew in that field that Sihtric would take you too, but that wasn't all that was there. In the middle of the bouquet was a wood carving of a flower. It was beautiful and so detailed…you loved it.

Sihtric starts to get worried when he sees you start to tear up worried that he did something wrong but it was the opposite. You have never been given flowers before, you remember seeing your father give your mother flowers when you were younger, you would always smile when you see your mother get so happy. And now here you are receiving them yourself and you couldn't be happier.

“i'm sorry..i understand if you don't lik-”

“I love them” you cut him off.

“I love them Sihtric really, I've never been given flowers…and the carving, it's beautiful” You tell him with a smile on your face as you bring them up to your nose smelling them. Sihtric feels himself calm down from the nervousness and he gives you a genuine smile at your words, happy to be the first man to give you flowers…and hopefully the last.

“I wanted to ask you something”

“You can ask me anything, Sihtric...you know that” The smile you gave him almost made all his worries go away. You looked at him with such adoration that all he wanted to do was step closer to you and lock his lips to yours. Sihtric clears his throat and those thoughts from his head and looks into your eyes.

“Will…Will you be mine?” Sihtric breathed out with a nervous smile. You feel yourself hold your breath as you stare at him. He did all this…just to ask me to be his? You think with a big smile.

You softly set down the bouquet of flowers and the wood flower carving on the table before stepping closer to him and taking his hands in yours. You stare up at him, hoping that you could express all your love you had for him in your eyes.

“ Sihtric, i would love to be yours” You tell him with a grin. Sihtric feels all his worries go away. He breaks out in a huge grin and he wraps his arms around your waist, picking you up and twirling you around in glee. You pat his shoulder and tell him to put you down in between your laughter.

Sihtric lets you down and you don't get a chance to say anything because he's already holding your face and capturing your lips with a fiery kiss that makes you feel as if your legs will give out. You feel yourself getting lost in the kiss as it only gets more heated.

Sihtric eventually pulls away from you so the two of you could catch your breath from the intense kiss that left your lips tingling and knees weak. Sihtric who's still holding your face in his hands stares at you with a grin on his face. “You don't know how happy i am to hear that”

“I guess you will just have to show me then” you tease him as you bring your hands up to rest on his shoulders. Sihtric smirks at your response.

He slowly moves his hands from your face and down your back and to your hips and down to your bum lightly squeezing it. You gasp and slap his arm yelling his name in shock. Sihtric laughs and you soon join in his laughter before he leans down and captures your lips in another kiss. The two of you, feeling nothing but pure happiness and love.

It was the eighth month when you first said I love you aloud. You knew weeks before that you loved him, but you couldn't say it aloud yet, not until the night when the two of you were celebrating yule. There wasn't much that the two of you could do in the town of Eoferwic, but Sihtric tried to make it special for the two of you.

The two of you were sitting on the fur rug in front of the small fireplace, a half full jug of wine that Sihtric may or may have not stolen from King Guthred was on the floor next to the two of you, both of your empty cups next to it.

“Can I open my eyes now?” You ask impatiently, your hands covering your closed eyes. You didn't think it was needed, your hands. But Sihtric had a feeling you would try to peek as he got the gift he got for you. A few minutes earlier you had given Sihtric his gift that you had gotten him. He didn't expect you to give him anything because he's never gotten a gift before.

When Sihtric opened his gift you could tell that he had gotten a little emotional when he opened it, and that made you get a little emotional as well. Sihtric thanked you and gave you a kiss before telling you to close your eyes saying with a smile that it was your turn.

“Not yet” Sihtric says from the other side of the room, you pout and keep your eyes closed as you focus on the sounds. You could hear some things moving around, hinting that Sihtric hid your present very well. And that's what he did, he remembered you telling him a story about when you were a child you would stay up late and search your home for your present, even convincing uhtred into joining you…only to be caught by young ragnar and sent to bed.

“Sihtric, i don't like surprises”

“ You said that the last time, and look how that went” Sihtric teases you, he grabs the small present and makes his way back to you, sitting in front of you, his legs crossed as he looks at you with a small smile. “ You can open your eyes now”

You move your hands from your face and open your eyes, immediately making eye contact with Sihtric. He smiles at you and you look down at his outstretched hand that has a cloth in his hand, used to wrap the gift. You glance up at him before you grab it, he gives you an encouraging nod, and you carefully grab it from his hands.

You carefully unwrap the cloth to see a beautiful necklace, but not just any necklace. It's the flower pendant necklace you would find yourself looking for whenever you went to the small market, it was the necklace you fell in love with months and months ago. You never did find it though when you went back to the market 3 months ago, and this is why. He had gotten it for you.

“How?...How did you know?” You ask quietly, your eyes not leaving the necklace as you continue admiring it. It was such a beautiful necklace and the fact the Sihtric had gotten it made you fall in love with the necklace and him more.

“I noticed you looking at it a few times, So do you like it?” Sihtric smiles when he sees the way you were looking at it. He already knew the answer but he wanted to ask anyway.

“Like?...Sihtric i love it, Thank you” You expressed as you looked at him with a grin on your face. Something inside of you was telling you that tonight would be the night you told him that you loved him. The way he paid attention to you warmed your heart, he noticed things others wouldn't. He made you feel special.

“ I'm glad, here let me help you put it on” Sihtric stands up and moves to sit behind you on the rug. You smile and hand him the necklace before moving your hair to the side. Sihtric sits close to you and he leans even closer, his back was against your chest and you could feel his warm breath on your bare neck.

You feel your breath hitch and your body go still when you feel his warm hands on your nape as he puts it on for you. After he clasps the clasp he rests his warm hands on your shoulders, whispering a ‘there you go’. You tilt your head to look back at him, your face so close to his, you could feel his breath hitting your face.

You didn't get to finish saying thank you before Sihtric was leaning closer to you and capturing your lips with his in a gentle and tender kiss. You felt one of his hands travel up your neck and rest on your cheek as the kiss became more hungry. You could taste the wine on his tongue and you felt yourself wanting to taste it more.

The kiss ended abruptly when Sihtric pulled away from you breathlessly. Your eyes fluttered open as you looked at him in confusion, wondering why he ended the kiss so fast. Maybe it was because he needed some air from the intense kiss when you noticed him trying to catch his breath. To be fair you were also left breathless from the kiss, like always.

“I love you” Sihtric professed as he looked into your eyes, his touch on your cheek not wavering. Sihtric started to worry when all you did was look up at him, you didn't respond right away. He thought that maybe he said it too soon and that you didn't feel the same way but really you were too shocked to say anything.

“You do?” hesitation was in your voice, something that SIhtric was quick to pick up on.

“Y/n i've never loved someone the way i love you” He vowed to you, the sincerity in his voice was clear. You twisted your body so you would be facing him fully. Sihtric gives you a small smile, starting to get nervous. He was really putting himself on the line, he's never told someone he loved them like this. The only love he felt for someone was his mother.

Sihtric is brought out of his thoughts when he feels your soft warm hands move up to hold his face in your hands. You give him a grin and slowly pull him down, locking your lips in a sweet tender kiss, pouring all your love you had for him in it. You slowly pull away, resting your forehead on his. You flutter your eyes open only to see Sihtrics eyes still close as he breathes heavy from the kiss of his life.

“I love you to Sihtric, so much”

He opened his eyes to see you giving him a grin, a grin he couldn't help but mirror. Sihtric was afraid of rejection, but you would never reject him. And now he understood that. He whispers a ‘i love you so fucking much’ before attacking your lips with his in a hungry kiss. You didn't expect it but you were quick to kiss back.

Without separating from the kiss, Sihtric moves his hands down your body and to your crossed legs, he uncrosses them and pulls you forward, wrapping your legs around his waist. You let out a loud gasp from the quick movement, Sihtric smirks before kissing you again. One of his hands moving to hold the back of your head as he gently pushes you to your back laying on the rug, him laying between your legs, his forearm supporting his top weight from fully laying on you.

Sihtric, who was too focused on the fiery kiss and the taste of your lips, didn't notice the half full jug of wine that was too close to his foot. He only noticed when the sound of the jug hit the wood floor and the sound of wine spilling with a loud clang. Sihtric pulls away from the kiss and tilts his head to look behind him. You sigh and sit up leaning back against your elbows giving him a playful disappointed sigh. “Sihtric”

“Who cares i didn't pay for it.”

It's the first month of spring and the ninth month of you and Sihtric being alone in Eoferwic and you were starting to get a little inpatient, something Sihtric noticed right away. He wanted to keep you mind off of things, off your brother who was still not back. So, he would take you out on walks every day, you would visit the flower field as much as you could. He wanted to make sure you were calm and happy. And that brings us to the present.

You were sitting on the floor on the fur rug in front of the unlit fireplace. Sihtric was sitting behind you on a chair, his hands braiding your hair. Ever since you asked him to help you a few weeks ago he found himself offering to do it for you instead. Neither of you minded it, SIhtric liked helping you and you liked it because he was better at it than you…and you liked the way he played with your hair.

Just as he ties your hair off with a thin leather ribbon, your peaceful silence is interrupted by the sound of loud footsteps leading and stopping in front of the door. Your closed eyes open and you immediately look to your door. Sihtric stands up and grabs his ax from the table before walking closer to the door. “I'll open the door”

No one has ever come and bothered the two of you, so you were a little worried from the loud footsteps and the loud knocks. You get up from the floor and grab your sword that was on the table while sihtric hesitantly unlocks and opens the door. You take a small step closer, looking for a sign from sihtric.

“You're not my sister” a deep voice says from the other side of the door, a voice you instantly recognize. You drop your sword and rush to the opened door, softly pushing sihtric away from it to stand in front of your eldest brother. A huge grin spreads over your face when you see him and an almost identical grin on his face.

“Ragnar you don't know how happy i am to see you” You exclaim as you grab his arm to pull him inside of the room, not paying attention to the other person behind him. Ragnar laughs and pulls you into a tight hug, lifting you slightly off of your feet.

Sihtric looks back at the door and sees a tall brown haired woman, she looked very intimidating and cold when they made eye contact, she gave him a stiff nod before looking back at the reunited siblings, a small smile now decorating her face. Sihtric decided then that he would not want to get on her bad side, especially with the amount of daggers strapped to her.

Sihtric fights a smile when he sees you hug your brother. He knew how much you missed him, how much you missed all of your siblings. SIhtric felt as if he knew your siblings personally from all the stories you would tell him about them. He loved the sound of your voice or the way your eyes would brighten as you talked about your family. He hated the frown that would soon follow as you remember that you siblings are nowhere near you. All of them Living in their own hell.

You closed your eyes and let yourself relax in your big brother's arms, you knew you were safe in his embrace. An embrace you missed dearly. You missed him so much, having him here, holding you brought tears to your eyes. Even though you didn't want to get out of your eldest brother's arms you needed answers. So you hesitantly pull away from the hug.

“How did you find me here? Where's hild? Did you find uhtred?” You tremble in fear and worry, your questions coming out in a rushed tone. Your mind was running wild as you thought of every bad outcome that must have happened. You were scared.

“One question at a time little sister” he hushes you. He places his hand on your cheek when he notices you start to panic from your questions. His voice was stern but gentle enough, hoping to sooth you and calm you down from your dangerous thoughts.

“We asked the turd king,” Brida stated plainly answering the first question, She would have Ragnar answer the other questions. At the sound of her voice you look away from Ragnar, to see Brida standing behind him, next to the door. Ragnar lets go of you knowing that you would want to hug her. “Brida” you sputtered out in shock. Brida smiles and opens her arms for a hug.

“I missed you” You whisper to her, your hold on her not loosening. When you saw Ragnar all those months ago you were very worried that something happened to her because she wasn't with him. It was no secret she had a foul mouth and a temper so that just made you worry even more. You had fear that she would have said something to anger the king and have herself killed.

Brida chuckles warmly and holds you tight, not wanting to let go too. While you and Brida were still hugging, Ragnar looks away from the two girls and over to sihtric who was awkwardly standing there quietly watching the exchange. Ragnar looked over sihtric with suspicion in his eyes; he didn't know much about him, only that he was Kjartan’s bastard. Sihtric noticed Ragnar’s look and he felt a chill run down his spine. He felt extremely intimidated by your eldest brother.

“Come little sister, I have to show you something” Ragnar Grins, softly grabbing your arm after you pull away from your hug with Brida. While Ragnar pulled you to the door, Brida took the chance to look around the room, her eyes stopping on the bed. It was obvious that you and sihtric slept in it. Brida smirks and glances at sihtric who was watching you.

“ Wait you didn't answer my questions Ragnar” You gave him a confused look as he basically dragged you out of the room and out of the inn, Brida and sihtric following after the siblings. You were confused…and emotional and a little annoyed that ragnar didn't answer your questions but you still let him drag you outside. But you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw who was standing a few feet from you.

You don't let your mind process the sight before you were already running towards him. The tears were already rolling down your cheeks by the time you threw your arms around his neck. Uhtred hid a wince and despite the pain he felt he hugged you as tight as he could, he never wanted to let go of you again, his little sister.

“I missed you so much, never leave me again” you sniffed, your hold on him not loosening. Hild who was standing next to Uhtred smiles big at the sight, she was so happy to see you two reunite. Ragnar, Brida and sihtric stop a few steps behind you, wanting you and uhtred to have space.

“I missed you too sister” Uhtred said in a comforting tone as he rubbed your back hoping to help stop your tears. Uhtred gave you one more big squeeze before pulling away from the hug, he still kept you at arm's length though. He wanted you close.

“Halig?” You ask in a nervous tone as if you were afraid of the answer. When you didn't see him with your brother you had a feeling that he was no longer with us, you hoped your gut feeling was wrong. But seeing the sad look in your brother's eyes you knew you were right.

“Sister, this is Finan. He was with me and Halig '' He was quick to change the direction of the conversation, not wanting to talk about it more. A pinch of sadness at his heart when he said halig’s name, it was still too painful. You noticed so you didn't say anything else about it.

“It's nice to meet you, Finan, I'm glad to see you with us” You smiled brightly at the man.

“Thank you Lady Y/n, It's nice to meet you as well. Uhtred talked about you all the time” he said with an Irish accent. He gave you a kind smile back. You look back at your brother with a worried look, already thinking about all the embarrassing things he could have told him. Uhtred smirks and hild and Finan laugh at your expression.

“Don't worry lady, it was all good things” Finan laughs as he gives you a charming smile. You could already tell that he would make you laugh many times in the future.

“Good because I would have to kick your ass if it wasn't” You smirk at Uhtred trying to give him an intimidating look but you just make him laugh and cross his arms over his chest.

“You're only saying that because you know my body is weak” Uhtred teases you. You roll your eyes mumbling how that's not true, but everyone knew it was true. Uhtred looks behind you to give his older brother a happy smile, the three of you are reunited again, now you just have to get Thyra back. Uhtreds eyes stop at sihtric who was watching you closely but he quickly looked away from you when he felt eyes on him.

“SIhtric” Uhtred greets sihtric with a small smile. When hild told him that you were still in Eforwich with Sihtric he was worried, But Uhtred was thankful that he stayed here with you, kept you safe. He would have to thank him.

“Lord, it's good to see you well” He said truthfully. It put his mind and heart at ease seeing him standing well in front of them. You would worry so much about uhtred that sihtric couldn't help but worry as well. He was happy because now you would be less stressed and paranoid, now that your brothers are back to you.

You tilt your head to look back at sihtric, you can't stop the smile that spreads over your face at the sight of him. You have been waiting for this moment for so long, to finally be reunited with your brothers again. And you were so happy that sihtric was here to be with you as well, you wouldn't have survived all those months without him.

It was a few hours after your reunion with your brothers. It was already dark outside, and you were sitting between Uhtred and hild at a long table outside. You were enjoying some ale as you listened to everyone start talking about who should keep dunholme. Every so often you would find yourself looking at sihtric who sat at a table nearby, next to Clapa.

You had to stop yourself from smiling every time you locked eyes with him. Your brothers were very observant people so you had to be careful, you didn't want them to find out about you and sihtric…at least not yet. All you had to do was tell sihtric that, and you were dreading it. You hoped that he wouldn't take it the wrong way.

Sihtric noticed something was wrong when you avoided eye contact with him for the third time. He also noticed the small frown on your face, the same frown that would appear on your face whenever you would think about something too hard. The frown didn't last on your face long, you were quick to change it to a small smile, hoping that no one noticed. Especially your brothers, because all they would do is ask you questions.

You tried to pay attention to the conversation again but you stopped when aethelwold started talking. You hated the poor excuse of a man and you had no way near enough patience to listen to him talk. You were happy that your brothers and the others were back, but you had gotten used to your nights being just you and sihtric. You wanted to be curled up in bed with sihtric, or sitting at the table eating and telling each other stories.

You tried to pay attention to the conversations, you really did. But your thoughts were distracting you, something that ragnar noticed. He didn't say anything aloud though, he knew it must be a little overwhelming for you, he didn't know what happened over the months of you being here but he had a feeling it wasn't the easiest for you.

You looked up from your half full cup of ale at the sound of familiar laughter, your eyes immediately went to sihtric who was laughing at whatever Finan was talking about. SIhtric almost immediately notices your stare and he gives you a small smile before looking back at Finan. You looked back down at your cup to hide the way the corners of your lips twitch up to a smile. Even when he wasn't trying he could make you smile.

“Uhtred,” Finan said, getting Uhtred's attention. Finan tilts his head towards King Guthred who's walking towards them.

“Uhtred will you join me please” King Guthred asks with a nervous tone. The silence after his question was filled with tension. You could feel Uhtred tense up beside you and Ragnar was clenching his cup a little too tightly and everyone was looking back and forth from Uhtred to the king, Waiting for an answer.

“Please?” King Guthred asks with a shaky breath. You look at Uhtred to see him staring blankly at the king but when he feels your stare he turns to look at you. You give him a reassuring smile and he sighs but stands up. Squeezing your shoulder softly as he walked past you and towards King Guthred. Everyone's eyes watching the two of them.

Everyone was sitting in silence as they watched the two talk. You were anxiously watching them, you were scared that your brother would do something he wasn't supposed to. And of course just as you think it, he does it. Your eyes widen and you cover your mouth, stopping yourself from laughing when you see uhtred slap king Guthred. That must have been very humiliating for him.

“Uhtred! No!” Father Beocca shouts from behind you as he stands up. Oh no the father is mad.. You think to yourself. You were worried that any second guards would come and take your brother for putting hands on the king but none came, and they continued talking. But not for long because a few minutes later the king was walking away.

Ragnar nods his head at you silently telling you to come with him. You set your cup down and stand up, following Ragnar as he walks towards uhtred. You make eye contact with sihtric as you walk past him, he gives you a small smile and you return it before looking away and standing next to ragnar.

“What did he say?” Ragnar asks as he rests his hands on his hips. Both you and ragnar looked at uhtred, ragnar wanted an answer but you just wanted to make sure he was okay.

“He said Dunholm is yours, brother.” Uhtred says with a blank stare as he turns around to face you and ragnar. You were happy for your oldest brother but you couldn't help but feel worried for uhtred. Before you could voice your thoughts uhtred was already talking.

“Sihtric” Uhtred calls out and you look at him in confusion and watch as sihtric walks towards you, standing next to you. Close but not too close that your brothers would say anything about it. You really fought the urge to reach out and hold his hand, especially when you saw the nervous look on his face.

“Lord?” Sihtric nods his head politely as a greeting.

“You lied to me” Uhtred said emotionlessly as he stepped closer to sihtric. You felt your heart stop for a moment at your brother's words. Too many thoughts immediately going through your mind.

“Lord I-I would never-” Sihtric stuttered as he looked between the three of you, his eyes lingering on you the longest before he looked back at uhtred. You can tell he was slightly panicking. Hell you were also panicking, you had no idea what was going on or what to do.

“You told me dunholm has no weakness, yet last time i was there, I saw a door along the east wall, Access to a water spring” Uhtred informs the three of you. And you watched as the realization hit sihtric’s face. You felt yourself relax a little at what uhtred said, it wasn't too serious.

“Yes, Lord, But..You could never bring an army through it.” Sitric doubted as he stepped closer to uhtred. Uhtred smiles and brings his hand to sihtric’s cheek before resting it on his shoulder and smiling at ragnar.

“I would not be bringing an army,” Uhtred smirked. You glanced at Ragnar to see him smirking too. They had a plan and you trusted them that it was the right one. You looked at sihtric, he wasn't as tense as he was before. Ragnar laughs and throws his arm over Uhtred's shoulder, leading him back to the table as they start talking about a plan, leaving you and sihtric.

Sihtric lets out a shaky breath and he turns to fully face you. You give him a small smile and gently squeeze his hand as you walk away from him. Sihtric smiles and watches you walk away from him and back to your brothers and Brida. Fighting the urge to grab your hand and pull you back to him and kiss you.

You Didn't get a chance to talk to Sihtric until late that night. You were by your brother's side the whole night as they made a plan for taking dunholm, leaving the two of you to send each other small smiles when no one was looking. The longing stares you shared reminded you of the first few days when you guys met.

You had said goodnight to your brothers and Brida and you made your way to you and sihtric’s room, not before making eye contact with sihtric, hoping that he would get the message to join you. Sihtric picked up on the way you acted tonight, you didn't want anyone to know of you and him. Sihtric was smart and he waited a few minutes before he sneaked away from the others and joined you in your guys room.

You waited for sihtric’s presence as you packed the few things you had around the room into your satchel, being extra careful when you packed the flower carving. You turned your head to the door when you heard it opening. You see sihtric swiftly coming in and closing the door behind him, a tired smile on his face.

“Hey,” He quietly greeted you, he didn't stop his strides until he's in front of you and pulled you into a tight hug. His arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you as close to him as he can. You let yourself relax in the hug, closing your eyes and resting your head on his shoulder. Mumbling; “I missed you”

“I was close to you the whole night” He chuckled, you could feel the vibrations of his laugh on your chest. Sihric smiles and kisses your forehead before responded; “But i get what you mean, i missed you to”

You made sure that the two of you kept your distance throughout the night. It was difficult, the both of you were used to being so close. Sihtric had no idea why you kept your distance from him but he went along with it. You knew you had to give him an explanation…but you just didn't know how to say it.

“Sihtric”

“Yes?” He answered with a hum, his hold on you not wavering. He liked having you close to him, so close that he could feel your heartbeat against his chest. The sound of your beating heart comforted him.

“I…don't think we should let the others know about us” You hesitated at first but you knew it would be easier if you just spit it out and get the conversation over with.

“Oh” Sihtric whispered, if you weren't so close to him you were sure you wouldn't have heard it.

“Is there a reason why?” SIhtric asked calmly, trying to hide how upset he got over those 11 words. To anyone else they wouldn't have noticed the sadness in his tone, but it was different for you. You knew Sihtric better than anyone else. You felt your shoulder droop when you heard the sadness in his voice.

“My brothers are very protective…I don't think I'm ready for them to find out” You say truthfully. It was true, your brothers are very protective of you and you were worried that they would say or do something that would scare sihtric away. You know your brothers wouldn't do it in a malicious way, they would only do it thinking they are protecting you, but sometimes they can take it a little too far. You didn't want sihtric to go through that.

You pull away from the hug and bring your hands up to hold sihtric’s face. You could tell that he was upset and that was the last thing you wanted. You gave him a reassuring smile and looked into his brown eyes as your thumb softly rubbed against his cheek.

“Its not going to be for long sihtric, just until things cool down”

Sihtric understood where you were coming from. You had told him many stories about how protective your brothers would be over you, and he knew you were just doing it to protect him. But that didn't stop the negative thoughts from collecting in his mind. Sihtric cleared his throat and answered you, his tone emotionless.

“I should get my things; it would be suspicious if i slept with you tonight.”

You didn't get to talk to sihtric over the next 2 days. Those 2 days were spent planning to take Dunholm and the journey to Donholm, the whole time you were by your brothers and bridas side and sihtric was by clapa”s and finan”s side. You tried to talk to him with the few chances you had but sihtric was inconveniently always busy and doing things for your brother.

It was hard not being able to be by his side all the time, or being able to have those ridiculous conversations that would have you talking for hours. But by far the hardest thing was how lonely it was at night. You didn't like sleeping without sihtric by your side, he made you feel comfortable. He made you feel safe.

And with sihtric not sleeping next to you, you didn't get much sleep the past two nights. You tried to rest but your mind kept you up. Not only were you missing sihtric you were also worrying about the battle at Dunholm. You hoped that you hid your tiredness and worry well but there was one person who knew you better than anyone. And that was uhtred. With one look he could tell something was bothering you.

You were currently walking alongside your brother Uhtred, ahead of the others and the small army. Uhtred was leading the march because he knew the way for the plan and you decided to walk with him, you didn't want him to be alone and plus you missed him. Uhtred appreciated your presence dearly.

“What's on your mind sister?” Uhtred asked you, turning his head to glance at you before looking ahead. You look away from the grassy hill to look at your brother. .

“I’m just worried about what's going to happen at dunholm…It's been a while since we had a battle like this” It wasn't a lie, You were worried. But it wasn't the whole truth but you couldn't tell that to uhtred.

“We will be fine sister, stop worrying” Uhtred said in a reassuring tone. You just hum in acknowledgment and go back to looking at the view. You could feel stares on your back and you knew that one of them was sihtric. You were comforted by the fact that sihtric still had his eyes on you, making sure you were okay.

“Were you okay while I was gone?” Your brother asked as he looked at you with a worried look of his own. You thought it was funny how he was just telling you not to worry and here he is, worrying himself.

“I won't lie, it was hard at first, I was so scared and paranoid. But it got easier with time” You pondered aloud, Thinking of the struggles over the months he was gone. You felt a little guilty, your struggles were nowhere close to how your brother, Halig and Finan struggled.

“I'm glad sister, i would never forgive myself if something happened to you and i wasn't there to stop it”

“I am fine brother, Don't speak of such things” You give him a small smile and gently bump your shoulder into his, making sure it wasn't the injured one before doing so. Uhtred laughs and bumps his shoulder back into yours, a little harder than you expected, making you almost trip over.

Uhtred lets out a loud laugh and helps you stand straight, stopping you from falling. You give him a dramatic glare that only makes him laugh more. Your glare turns into a grin at the sound of your brother's laugh. You missed his laugh, his smile, his jokes. You soon joined him in laughter.

“And sihtric?” Uhtred asked you with a small smirk after the two of you calmed down from your laughter. Your neck almost snapped with how fast you turned your head to look at your brother. Why is he asking about sihtric? you think with a panicked thought.

“What about him?” You internally curse at yourself from how fast you respond, and the way your voice goes higher doesn't help. Uhtred hides his smirk and gives you an innocent smile.

“You guys were alone for many months, was it okay?…did anything happen?”

“Everything was okay, nothing…nothing really happened” you tell him with a nervous smile. Uhtred looks and your side profile when you turn to look away from him, he has a smirk on his face that you didn't notice. Uhtred just responds with a snicker.

The trek up the mountain to Dunholm was hard. It was even more difficult because of how dark it was. But it was nowhere near as hard as it was when you had to part from Ragnar and Brida. You knew that when you hugged them both that that could be the last time you hugged them or the last time that you would see them.

You tried to distract yourself from those negative thoughts. So you went over then plan in your head again, again and again as you ran up that mountain and hid in the bushes. Wait at the wall until they come for water, sneak into dunholm, kill Kjartan’s men, Kill Kjartan, Find your sister.

It was a very straightforward plan. A plan that you hoped worked.

You were by Hilds side as you crouched behind the bushes. On the other side of you was Sihtric, he was so close to you that you could reach out and hold his hand and no one would see, and that's what you did. You reached out and took his shaking hand in yours. Sihtric immediately turned his head to you when he felt your touch. You give him a small smile before focussing back on watching the men on the wall.

You felt his hands stop to shake and hold onto yours tighter. His hands were clammy but you didn't mind. You knew he was nervous, this couldn't have been easy for him. Coming back to this place, Knowing that everyone had the same goal. To kill His father. You knew that sihtric had little to none love for his father in his heart, But this still must be hard.

You look away from the men and to uhtred, waiting for his signal to run towards the wall. You saw the concentration and determination on your brother's face. Uhtred looked at you and hild and nodded; the signal. You give sihtric’s hand one more squeeze before letting go and quietly sprinting after hild and uhtred.

When you get to the wall you quickly put your back against it and let out the breath you were holding. The cold stone feels nice against your back and palms. You look across the grass and towards the bushes where the others were at. Your eyes looking at sihtric who's waiting for the right time to run towards you.

Sihtric nods towards Father Beocca before he stands up and starts sprinting towards us. You feel your body tense up in fear when sihtric trips over his own feet. You helplessly watch as sihtric looks up at the men on the wall in fear praying to himself that they wouldn't notice him. Thankfully they didn't. Sihtric quickly got to his feet and ran to the wall, taking the spot on your left.

You watch as the others run over as well, and you let yourself relax a little knowing that you weren't caught. The first step in the plan was almost a success. Now all you had to do was wait until the morning when they opened the small door to collect some water. Hopefully it wouldn't be too long of a wait.

Sihtric tilts his head to the side to look at you. Your eyes were closed as you leaned your head back against the stone wall, you were trying to calm down your nerves. The moon was reflecting against your face and you looked absolutely beautiful in Sihtrics eyes.

Sihtric brushed his fingers against yours before holding your hand. You opened your eyes and tilted you heard to look at at sihtric, locking eyes with him. You give him a faint smile and lace your fingers with his. Looking into his warm eyes you knew you would be just fine with him by your side.

Before you breached, dunholm uhtred told you, well more like demand you that you have to stay by his side or by the others side during the battle. You just responded with a roll of your eyes, you and uhtred both knew that you could protect yourself. But Uhtred just wanted you to be safe.

Despite the small annoyance you felt about Uhtred’s over protectiveness, you listened to him. So during the battle you were by Sihtrics' side. Fighting side by side, making sure that the other was okay. One second you were fighting against one of Kjartans men and the next you were standing next to Sihtric as a Square formed, For Ragnar and Kjartan.

You feel anger and disgust when you see Kjartan standing in front of your brother as he shouts for one of his men to give him a shield. Your Grip on your sword was starting to hurt but you didn't care. All you could focus on was The sound of shields and swords clashing and the sounds of shouts of the people around you.

It felt as if you were stuck in place as you watched the battle in front of you. You couldn't bring yourself to shout out like Brida or uhtred. You just stood there watching. Tears of anger forming in your eyes at the words Kjartan was saying about your sister and parents.

You move closer to sihtric and he wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to his chest, His eyes not leaving the fight in front of him. You flinch when Ragnar stabs his sword in Kjartans arm. Your jaw clenches when Kjartan yells for his sword. You watch with a blank stare as Ragnar swings his sword down at Kjartan.

You felt Sihtric flinch at every swing of Ragnars sword. You couldn't watch after the second swing and turn away and lay your head on Sihtric’s chest, trying to drown out the screams and the awful sound of ragnars sword meeting Kjartan’s body. One of your hands moving to sihtric’s back to rub up and down, hoping to comfort him in some way.

You squeeze your eyes shut and flinch when you hear ragnar's shout of anger. You couldn't bring yourself to turn around and see the sight, you wouldn't be able to handle that. You were feeling many things at that moment, happiness that your family has been avenged, disgust from the fight, tiredness from the battle. And most of all you felt sadness, sadness because Kjartan’s death did not make you feel any better.

You felt one word, Overwhelmed. After the brutal death of Kjartan your sister stepped out, surrounded by wolves. You wanted to cry at the sight of your sister and you did when she yells in agony and runs back inside, her wolves following after her. You look at your brothers, Uhtred has tears rolling down his face and Ragnar's face is covered in blood but you could still see the tears.

You tried to talk to your sister again but she just stayed silent as she looked away from you, her wolves staring you down. You left her alone, it was obvious she wasn't ready to talk to you and you would respect that even though all you wanted to do was bring your older sister in your arms.

But instead of being in your sister's arms you were in Sihtric’s arms. After trying to comfort your brothers and failing you decided to look around for sihtric, you knew he needed comfort as well after what he witnessed. But it was no surprise that you couldn't find him, You didn't know your way around dunholm.

So you were very thankful when Sihtric randomly appeared in front of you. You could tell by the look on his face that he needed to be with you, alone. You didn't question him when he took your hand and pulled you away from the eyes of others and up the stairs to an empty guard tower.

You didn't say anything either when sihtric locked the door behind him and pulled you down to sit on the stone floor, Both of you leaning back against the stone wall. You could hear the loud talking of the drunk men celebrating the victory. You stretch your legs out in front of you, bumping your foot against sihtric’s.

You wanted to say something but you didn't know what to say, So you just closed your mouth and rested your head on sihtric’s shoulder. There was a tense but comfortable feeling in the air, Sihtric knew you wanted to say something and that you were waiting for him to make the first move. So he took your hand in it and rested it on his lap.

“I dont think im ready to talk about it” Sihtric whispers but you hear him perfectly.

“That's okay, i'll be here when your ready”

“I'll always be here no matter what” You promised as you squeezed his hand, tilting your head to look at his side profile. Sihtric can't stop the smile from forming on his lips at your words. He tilts his head as well, your lips almost touching. Sihtric twists his body to face you and brings his hand up to cup your cheek before sealing your lips in a gentle kiss.

You felt sihtric pour his emotion in the kiss. A once gentle kiss turned into a desperate and heated kiss. The hand he had on your cheek traveled to your nape, tangling his fingers in your hair, pulling you closer.

“I love you” SIhtric whispered against your lips. The feeling of the kiss was lingering on your lips, You let out a heavy breath and opened your eyes. SIhtrics brown eyes were already looking into yours.

“I love you” You breathed out, still trying to calm down your breathing from the kiss. It also didn't help that every time sihtric told you he loved you it felt like you couldn't breathe. Sihtric smiles at your words and moves his hand for your hair to tuck a few strands of hair behind your ears.

“I'm sorry” You muttered after a few moments of silence. Sihtric who moved back to leaning against the stone wall looks at you in confusion, not knowing why you would be sorry. “What for?”

“For wanting to hide our relationship, it wasn't fair to you” you apologized, the more you thought about it over the past two days the more you realized how unfair it really was to him. You didn't even ask for his opinion, you just made the decision yourself.

“I understand why you did it, It's okay” He reassured you, softly gripping your chin with his thumb and pointer finger to make you look at him instead of the floor. Your anxiousness drifting away at the sight of his beautiful eyes.

“I don't want to hide anymore” You confess to him. Just hiding your relationship for 3 days was hard enough, you couldn't imagine doing it for longer. Before sihtric could open his mouth to say something you were already saying something.

“I never want to hide my love for you again” You whispered as you tilt your body to face him, your hand cupping his cheek, your thumb softly grazing over a small scar. SIhtric out of instinct leans closer to your hand, not breaking eye contact with you. Those words left a heavy but nice feeling in his heart, Gods he loved you so much.

“Does that mean i can kiss you in front of the others?” Sihtric jokes with a teasing smirk as he leans his face closer to yours.

“Hey now! Don't push your luck” You laugh and playfully push his shoulder away from you making him go back to leaning against the stone wall. Sihtric joins you in your laughter

“Let's start off slow, like holding hands. Can you do that?” You smile softly, bumping your shoulder into his. Sihtric felt warm inside seeing your beautiful smile, it made him forget about all of his problems, he could only focus on you.

“Oh i can definitely do that” He smiles with a flirty tone. He takes your hand in his and brings it to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles as he winks at you. You felt your cheeks burning from his actions.

“Anything for you” He says in a much softer tone, leaning down to kiss your forehead before wrapping his arm around you and pulling you closer to lay your head on his chest. You hum in acknowledgement and watch as the pretty sunset peaks over the wall.

All the worries you had about the future, about your sister, about your brother's reaction to you and sihtric’s relationship drifted away as you sat in silence watching the sunset. Being in sihtric’s arms gave you a sense of clarity and peace that you never wanted to lose. You knew that whatever happened in the future you would be fine, because you had sihtric by your side and he never plans to leave it. With or without your brother's approval.

ཻུ۪۪ bonus:

Unknowingly to the both of you that while you guys were cuddling and watching the sunset, your two brothers were resting by the fire inside, their newest topic being you…and sihtric.

“How long do you think it's gonna take until they realize we already know” Ragnar chuckles as he takes a sip of his ale. After the conversation with Uhtred that just made him feel even more down he knew he had to change the conversation, and he knew the perfect topic. Their little sister.

Uhtred immediately knows what his brother is talking about. Uhtred knew you very well and he already had suspicions about you and sihtric when he noticed how you would glance at him ever so often the day he got back, and he knew he was right by your strange behavior and the way you responded to him when he asked you those questions.

“Hopefully not too soon, Sihtric is being extra polite…i think he might be scared of you” Uhtred smirked as he tilted his cup towards Ragnar before taking a large gulp. Thinking about how polite he's been the past few days.

“Should we scare him a little?...threaten him?” Ragnar smiled mischievously, already thinking of a few ideas to scare sihtric. Ragnar set his cup on the wooden table and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he looked at his brother.

“No, I can tell he makes her happy, And he protected her when we couldn't” uhtred shook his head as he glanced at Ragnar before looking towards the burning fire. Uhtred could tell that you really cared for sihtric and the fact that sihtric did in fact kept you safe made uhtred feel a lot better about you and his relationship.

“And besides the last time I threatened one of her ex’s she didn't talk to me for a week…which is a lot to her because it seems like she can never shut up” Uhtred added when he noticed Ragnar thinking a little too hard on his last words.

And Uhtred was right, Ragnar did think too hard on what uhtred had said. Ragnar didn't like the fact that he wasn't there to protect her, He had missed out on so much he missed how it would be him protecting her.

“Yeah well at least you didn't get pushed into the mud” Ragnar scoffed as he shook his head and leaned back in his chair as he remembers that day. There was a boy who lived close to them, he was the youngest son of the weaponsmith, And Ragnar noticed how that boy always seemed to appear when you were around. Raganr did not like it.

“I Don't blame her on that one…you deserved it” Uhtred snickers as he remembers the furious look on your face as you pushed your eldest brother into the mud before running off to your father to tell him how angry you are. While the son of the weaponsmith was running to his father, scared that Ragnar was going to chase him and feed him to the ‘cannibals who live a few villages away if he didn't leave you alone’....there were no cannibals but the boy did in fact leave you alone.

“Who knew that a six year old y/n was so strong?” Ragnar chuckles as he grabs his cup from the table and drinks from it. Ragnar couldn't help but smile at the memory, he did in fact deserve to get pushed into the mud for scaring that boy but it was no way near as bad as the scolding he got from his mother when he finished cleaning himself in the stream.

“Our little sister can handle herself, i taught her well” Uhtred smirks as he looks back on the memories over the years.

Ragnar chooses to ignore what uhtred said about how he taught her well because everyone knows it was really ragnar. He instead focuses on ‘our little sister’. He couldn't help but feel a little emotional as he thought about it, he had missed out on so much in your life. You weren't that small girl that needed her big brother to help her with everything. No, you were older now, and knew how to take care of yourself.

“Our little sister isn't so little anymore.”

note:

Okay so like i kind of love this fic, and I genuinely like how it turned out. I hope you guys do too!

Please comment if you would like to be added to my tlk taglist or my Sihtric taglist.

I’m also currently working on a Aethelstan story, it's going to be published on wattpad soon. I'll try to also publish it here if you guys want?

I really like the plot and story I made with this fic and i wouldn't mind making a full on story for it, just let me know if you guys would want that or just other parts.

Also, i do apologize if sihtric seems a little ooc, i was just really trying to explore another side of him? But like I said before I do hope you enjoyed this fic! Likes, comments and reblogs are very appreciated.

#the last kingdom #the last kingdom x reader #sihtric kjartansson #sihtric x reader #sihtric imagine #the last kingdom fandom #the last kingdom fanfic #arnas fedaravicius #sihtric the last kingdom

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wangxianficrecs · 2 months

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Seven Seconds to the End by Admiranda & miixz

Seven Seconds to the End

by Admiranda (@admirableadmiranda) & miixz (@miixz)

T, WIP, 15k, Wangxian

Summary: Wei Wuxian has been alive for less than an hour, he has no plans for his future. But if there is one thing he knows, it’s that he wants to see Lan Zhan again. Wei Wuxian remembers all that happened at the end of his first life. He remembers that Lan Zhan stayed on his side until the very end, how he'd tried to save him before Jiang Cheng attempted to kill them both. When he fell, the last thing he saw was Lan Zhan's eyes, the last thing he heard was his cries. When he finds himself unexpectedly returned to life, he knows exactly who he can trust and where he needs to go. A Chen Qing Ling retelling. Kay's comments: The thing with CQL is that I love it dearly, but also, there are so many plotholes due to how it was adapted from the source material and I actually love those plotholes too, because that's where fanfic authors can make themselves comfortable and write so many creative stories. This story explores how CQL Wangxian's relationship is actually really great and it makes no sense for freshly-resurrected Wei Wuxian to run away from Lan Wangji when he appears in Mo village and I love this so much. The cherry on top is the fact that miixz and Admiranda are both really great writers that always draw me in and I'm excited to see how this story might continue! Excerpt: In the distance, Wei Wuxian hears the Lan juniors scramble to their feet, overhearing something about how they’ll be acting in the west courtyard tonight. It’s good to know where he can find them, but he doesn’t mind the loss of the rest of their conversation. Whatever they’ve come here for is definitely something to look into, but he’s in no hurry to learn about it. If their presence is somehow related to his return, he doubts any of them know it. No one would knowingly send a group of young cultivators anywhere near the scourge of the cultivation world. But for once, this works in his favor. For one thing, young cultivators are bound to be informed on the state of the world, and most importantly, these particular boys should know about the one he wants to meet. Just a little bit longer, he thinks, looking at the cuts in his wrist. I’ll see this through, then I’ll find my way back to you, Lan Zhan.

pov wei wuxian, canon divergence, the untamed compliant, canon rewrite, fluff, hurt/comfort, family feels, getting together, developing relationship, pining, friends to lovers, adopted lan sizhui, no jiang cheng & wei wuxian reconciliation, not jiang cheng friendly

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(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

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yoongsisbae · 1 year

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Spring Day Still with You | JJK

You ran away from the cold and Jungkook ran with you, warming each other’s hearts. But within the cycle of life, there is death, and as spring blooms, the blood still lays soaked in the dirt. You ran and they chased.

hybrid!Jungkook x reader. fantasy AU

Hey reader, I am back with another story! I know I usually update sooner, so much stuff has happened in my life to “slow me down”, but hopefully this makes up for it! Anyways, enjoy this unofficial official sequel to Not a Creature was Stirring aka Y/N and JK being fluffy and cute and then taking on his bros like the ultimate power couple :D

Warnings: horror elements, blood, gore, violence, monsters, unwanted kisses/scenting, smut, knotting u.u, breeding kink, exhibitionism, predator/prey, “catch me”

Word Count: 15k

-🌑-

Jungkook doesn’t remember how he became a beast.

But he remembers when he first became human.

It was in Spring, when he reached twenty years of age.

One morning he woke up without fur, terrified of his new weakened body. He wandered his forest, lost and confused. He never had a family, he never had anyone who taught him what he was.

A lone wolf.

Jungkook grew up not knowing anything other than loneliness, hungry nights without any kills and mornings waking up in a panic, running away from animals and humans alike, not understanding how powerful he truly was. He spent evenings hiding, jittery, scared. Even though he was only a pup, his form resembled a large wild wolf, a predator.

Jungkook’s kind were meant to dominate the land, hunt animal kind and human kind and prey on everything in between. Jungkook didn’t know, he knew of nothing except survival.

Jungkook grew and became monstrous. He didn’t have to hide anymore, he didn’t have to run, and no longer went hungry at night. But inside, his loneliness ate him alive instead.

His kind were not meant to exist alone, even though Jungkook did not remember what happened to make him an outcast, he knew deep down how abnormal it was for him to be without a pack, without a family.

By chance he found others like him.

At least, that’s what he believed...

At his weakest moment, wandering aimlessly, wishing for a better existence or perhaps no existence at all, he became human.

It was something that happened to all of his kind eventually, but he was never taught that, never shown how to utilize his powers, and Jungkook was once again terrified and alone and small.

Jungkook was found by a young boy out hunting with his father. It was actually their luck that they did not stumble upon Jungkook in his beast form, for both Jungkook and the pair of men.

And finally Jungkook learned something...

When the old man rushed to his side, took off his hunting coat and gave it to Jungkook, when the boy helped him to his feet and Jungkook walked on two legs for the first time, and they took him back to their home, he learned about living life as a young human man.

He was shy, Jungkook did not understand how to live like a human, barely understanding how to live like a beast. But they gave him kindness.

Kindness, he also learned, was always punished in the end.

Jungkook was never taught the mechanics of his transformation, he thought this new body was what he was always meant to become, had given him a way to finally not be alone. He stayed human for days, months, years…he did not understand what he truly was.

He learned their language, their customs, he helped the father who in his old age was slowing down; he became friends with the son, and finally had a home. Jungkook slowly let down his walls.

Eating fresh caught fish at a table with kind strangers who treated him like one of their own, Jungkook smiled and felt a sense of peace wash over him, a happiness now that he was not alone.

It was the calmness, an acceptance within him, that triggered his second transformation.

It was a calmness before a terrible storm.

When that father and son first stumbled upon Jungkook, scared and wandering alone in the woods, they were not the only ones who had found him.

But unlike a man, a predator hid in the shadows, stalked its target, unseen and unheard, always learning, always observing. Because a predator knew when to strike at the perfect moment.

So when Jungkook, unable to control himself, transformed, it was an instantaneous reaction so quick he will never know who attacked first.

Was it him, with his senses so heightened once again, his instincts to end the looming danger so strong that overtook all of his reason?

Or was it the father and son, so fearful of his beastly form, their once kind eyes now looking upon him with contention? Jungkook doesn’t know, but he has always blamed himself nonetheless.

The home he had found was destroyed in a flash of fur and bloodshed, the people he grew to care for turned on him before he could grasp what he had done. And Jungkook, broken again, transformed back to human and believed he was alone once more, now by his own blood-stained hands.

Standing in destruction, he found a truth within himself that he was more than a scared animal or a weak human, he realized that he was a monster.

With their blood dripping from his hair, his hands, staining his skin and the rancid metal taste of what used to be kindness covering his lips, he hated what he was.

He cried, devastated at what happened, wishing he too laid in a pile of bones and limbs with them. And then overcome, he felt his arms and legs stretch and break and reform again.

He howled.

He thought he was alone.

But they had been watching him all this time. Waiting.

And they pounced.

A group of men circled him, and even though he could have torn them to shreds, he curled into himself, tried to lick away the blood tangled in his fur and whined and wretched.

He did not understand his own power, but they did.

They saw how massive and eclipsing he was, they saw his potential even in his patheticness. How useful he could be to them one day.

The leader walked forward, and did something Jungkook never expected to witness. He transformed too, instantly becoming a beast just like him. His eyes red and glowing, pierced into Jungkook with an understanding, that Jungkook did not have to give up just yet. His fangs pulled at Jungkook’s nape, ordering him to move. Jungkook whimpered, then howled. And to his surprise, he was met with six other howls.

The men were gone, it was now only a den of beasts.

So they took him back into the woods. And because Jungkook had nowhere else to go, he went.

And he learned more, he learned what it was to be beastly.

That was nearly eighty years ago.

-🌖-

“Ow!”

Jungkook frowns, “Nothing happened.”

“Was something supposed to happen?” You rub your shoulder, huffing. You sit with Jungkook on the steps of your cabin.

He’s cute in the way he looks at you, eyes wide and inquisitive. “I thought it might trigger your transformation, getting hurt.”

You roll your eyes, your irises already dulled back to your natural color. You pull your legs into your body, leaning your chin on your knees, and look toward the landscape, bright and sunny, inches of white snow slowly melting in the sunlight.

‘Last night....what happened last night,’ you wonder.

There are deep scratches etched into the wood of the cabin walls from yesterday’s fight. The wind’s howls still echoed inside of you.

Another howling, terrifying; a growling, echoed in your thoughts too.

A twig snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts. Everything was now calm and peaceful. Everything except you. Jungkook stares at you, knees knocking into your own.

‘What happened?!’ You tried to piece it together, but it was lost. You only had a series of memories that barely made sense, that felt like a dream, or what more adequately could be described as nightmarish.

Red eyes staring right into yours, a wet slimy snout so close to you, long sharp fangs barely missing your skin, snowflakes that seemed like they stood still in the air as you moved, and a desire inside you to...kill-

You can’t stay here anymore! And Jungkook? He can’t stay here, no, you won’t leave him, but can you really leave this place...together? Should you?

How are you going to explain Jungkook to your friends and family? And there was another question piecing itself inside you. What were you going to do about the undeniable energy coursing through your body, the buzzing warmth from within you that you can’t comprehend, the freezing air that feels refreshing on your skin...

“Explain what happened again. What do you mean I was still human?”

Jungkook wishes he had answers to give you, the one who could give him answers he couldn’t risk asking. “You still looked human. Your hair was longer,” he plays with your finger tips, examining each nail, “and your nails and teeth were sharper, but you still looked like you.”

His large eyes stare at you, remembering, awe-like, “You were fast, faster than all of us. You really don’t remember anything?”

You felt dizzy. Your head wasn't spinning, you weren't off balance, it felt like the lightheadedness you get after singing, too much air, too much light, too much, it was all too much. “No...I-I’m sorry-” you stand up, turning away.

Jungkook pulls you back and into a kiss, surprising you, his strong arms wrapping around you, his smell engulfing you. Has he always smelled so enticing?

Jungkook pulls away, perplexed. “No, that didn’t work either,” he hums.

You pout, his kiss had silenced your worries until he reminded you once more. “We need to leave, before they come back,” you say resolutely. “We can’t stay here.”

“Okay, are you sure?”

“I...Yes.” You take a deep calming breath. “Yes, I can’t stay here, Jungkook. I have to go back,” you say, sad and weary.

Jungkook stands with you, his hand grasping onto yours. “Okay. Let’s go.”

You can’t help but smile. And he smiles too.

You pace through the cabin one last time, making sure nothing was left behind, steps heavy on the cabin floor as you walk quicker than usual. “We’ll have to find our own way back to the ranger’s post.” Jungkook nods, trepidation clear on his features, yet he was willing to do what you asked.

You massage your temples while looking over your luggage, belongings that remind you there was a world waiting for you past this cabin and these woods. A job you had to get back to, relationships you had to mend, a life you had to pick up the pieces of to keep moving forward.

But you didn’t want to leave. Everything feels so inconsequential now. You catch Jungkook’s beautiful brown eyes following you around and you feel scared to leave the security of the cabin that had become such a safe haven to you both in such a short amount of time.

“What if it happens again and I can’t remember again?” You whisper, shuddering at the thought.

Jungkook looks just as confused and conflicted as you feel inside. He reaches for you, holding you close. “I’ll be there with you.”

-🌖-

“What’s that?”

“Electric Teapot.”

“What’s this?”

“A rice cooker.” You lean against Jungkook’s back, wrapping your arms around his lean torso. “Any other questions?”

He lifts his arm so your head peeks under it. “How are you feeling?”

“The same,” you shrug, “maybe hungrier,” you laugh. “Want me to show you how to use that?” You point to your microwave.

Jungkook looks at the appliance and scrunches his nose in disapproval. “No.”

You giggle, pulling him through your home. The journey back to the ranger’s post went smoothly. Jungkook transformed one last time and took you to the edge of the woods. Racing through the woods his senses were on high alert, but there was no left trace of his pack. However, Jungkook couldn’t get rid of the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that you both were still in terrible danger.

But your smile reassured him.

Jungkook was calmed by the way you looked wistfully towards the woods that were full of horrors, laughing with the new ranger on duty while giving him back the keys to the cabin. You spun the silver house keyring around your pointer finger listening as the ranger told you the best roads to take back towards the city, only vaguely aware of how the silver coating now itched your skin the longer you played with the keys.

Then the car ride back to your place left Jungkook overstrung, jumpy. The city’s mechanics were a jarring contrast, everything sounded louder after staying in the wilderness, even to you. Jungkook stayed on edge until you both entered your apartment.

It’s not as if Jungkook hasn’t visited the city before. However, years of advancing technology made the woods a more ideal hunting ground for his kind. It was a blessing and a curse. Jungkook stayed in the woods, growing more isolated, for what could have been a lifetime in human years. Jungkook could barely recognize the city as it was now. But there were reminders, street names prattled by a monotone navigation voice that stirred unpleasant memories inside him.

Memories like...

-🌒-

“Can’t we go home now?”

“Our Jungkook always has such a soft spot for humans.” The second youngest of the pack, Taehyung puts drapes his arm around Jungkook’s neck, squeezing him into a painful headlock.

“It will be okay Jungkook, we’ll be quick,” his brother, Jimin whispers, smiling.

“Speak for yourself,” Taehyung grunts.

“But the screaming is so annoying,” Jimin whines. Jungkook feels like screaming.

The oldest members of the pack were getting closer, each with an unsuspecting human or two clinging to their bodies, laughing drunkedly as they led the way to Jungkook and the others.

Before Jungkook could attempt to dissuade them again, Taehyung and Jimin had already transformed, bounding towards the large group. Jungkook reluctantly transformed and followed, keeping a lookout, but really hoping to ward away others out of harm’s path.

The humans screamed and the members they had befriended lead them down another alley, pretending to help, a deadly trick.

They escaped right into a dead end. And then, when they believed things could not get any worse, the men’s mood shifted, and so did their bodies.

It was like this in the beginning. When Jungkook was taught the extent of his powers from his pack, they would go into the city to prowl. He was taught how to lure in prey another way. And Jungkook reluctantly learned how to approach humans and make friends so his pack could feast.

Like most things they asked of him, he answered with a kind of quiet resistance, many times he refused to partake and his personality became quite...unalluring.

He was rude, mean, and hateful to humans. Yet, it wasn’t because he hated them. He did it to spare them, he could not have human friends, and he could not find friendship amongst his pack who found him odd and difficult to teach. It caused the pack to bully Jungkook for fighting against their ways, tearing him down and belittling him, until one day, on Christmas Eve, he decided he had enough...

-🌖-

You check your phone, no new messages from your mysterious host. You left a voice message, trying to stay light in your inquiries to her, but perhaps you need to be more direct, you think. Still, how are you going to convince a stranger to help you when it could put her in danger as well?

You call again, leaving another voice message. “Hello! It’s me again...your cabin was lovely, I felt very safe. I was, well, hoping you could give me some tips on how to properly make my own home feel just as secure-” You frown, how direct is too direct? “-from you know, um, unwanted visitors…please call me back.”

You hang up, hoping for a good response to your awkward plea. “What do you think?” You look at the magnets littered on your fridge, pulling down old photos that left an unpleasant taste in your mouth, your eyes stopping on the number to your favorite take out place, “Take out tonight?” you ask Jungkook.

“Um, ‘take’…‘out’?”

It’s not like you had a ton of expendable cash to feed and take care of another living being, but watching Jungkook devour your favorite dishes, humming in happiness as he tries the greasy take out food, made you think maybe this arrangement could work out somehow for the best.

You hadn’t expected another man in your life so soon, but you realized, trying not to laugh as Jungkook took his time cleaning the bones of his fried chicken, he was not quite all man…

You smiled, and then wondered what that meant for you, looking down at your short nails that Jungkook claimed became as sharp as talons.

“Eat,” he holds out a piece of chicken which you gratefully take. He looks towards the window, “We’re high up, that’s good.”

“Yeah?”

He nods, grabbing another piece of chicken and speaking in between bites. “It makes it harder to track a scent.”

You feel fear wash down your spine, cold and unpleasant. “Do you think they will? They’d come to the city for us? All this way?”

All those years, Jungkook never tried to leave the woods on his own, so he did not know. But he understood the pack’s dynamics, you had wounded them, and if they survived he knew they would not take a loss without retaliation. And he knew they would stop at nothing to establish their dominance again.

Jungkook moves to your window, cracking it open. He could smell so many things, but nothing out of the ordinary for a city. “If they come,” he breathes out, “I’ll be ready for them this time. I’ll be better, I’ll protect you no matter what.”

You watch the city lights twinkle and bury your head in his chest, hugging him close, making a silent promise to yourself to protect him too.

-🌘-

You felt snow beneath your bare feet, the coldness was only a mild bother.

In fact, you felt warm.

The woods surrounding you were familiar, the dead branches spreading out in patterns you recognized. You stayed quiet and listened, and if you concentrated hard enough you could hear the wings of a large bird flying overhead, gliding from one branch to another, you could hear the small steps of a bunny rabbit moving on the ground, you could hear steady breathing in the distance.

You saw a wolf.

It was not intimidatingly large like Jungkook, it did not look terrifying and monstrous like the man in the fur coat, or wild and threatening like the wolves that chased you.

It was a calm wolf with dark long fur. Its eyes watched you, studied you.

The wolf’s eyes were not a menacing shade of red like the beasts’ eyes that haunted you still. No. It’s eyes stared into yours, a familiar shade that made you think of only one thing as the wolf moved closer to you, mere inches from your face, so close you could see your own reflection in its similar eyes, your eyes staring back like a mirror in its orbs. Your hand reached for your cheek in reflex, pulling on your bottom eyelid. Your eyes…

Your eyes.

It was your eyes.

“Y/n!”

Jungkook shook you, waking you up. You clung to him, surprised. “You…you were crying in your sleep,” he says worriedly.

You catch your breath, feeling the sting in your eyes from your mounting tears. “I’m sorry, sorry, I’m okay.” you reassure him, and yourself, cuddling back into his embrace.

“Are you sure?” he whispers, burying his nose in your neck out of habit. “I am here, you can talk to me. You don’t have to go through this alone,” he says softly, remembering all the moments when he wished he could hear someone utter those words. No, he won’t let what happened to him happen to you too.

You run your fingers through his hair, untangling the ends, your chin resting against his forehead. “I feel it inside me…this other thing. How do I stop something like that?” Your voice shakes as you try to make sense of your dream. “How do you?”

“It took me a while to control it,” he winces.

“How do you? ‘Control’ it?”

Jungkook pauses, thinking of his pack.

They would transform in front of him quickly and fluidly, utilizing whatever form benefited them in the moment. It took him a long while, to not let his emotions dictate his outside form, and eventually he felt comfortable enough to switch between forms, learning to follow their lead if only so Jungkook wouldn’t be left behind...

“I shouldn’t have used that word. You don’t control it, you accept it. I can transform easily because I know this is me,” he looks down at his hand, intertwined in yours, “And my other form...” he trails off, quieting screams that still shrill in his memory, “is who I am too,” he swallows.

But for you, if that beast hadn’t attacked you, you wouldn’t be going through this…this nightmare. This isn’t you.

You nod anyway, kissing his forehead to not only calm him, but your own worries as well.

“I have a couple more days of vacation,” you yawn. “I can show you around. We can buy you some clothes.”

Jungkook pulls the ends of your hoodie down, “I like wearing your clothes, they smell nice.”

You laugh and yawn. “We can get you clothes that fit you better. I need new clothes too, it’s going to warm up soon, I already feel so hot,” you huff, adjusting the collar of your night shirt.

Jungkook’s reaction does not go unnoticed by you, the way he licks his lips absentmindedly, eyeing your revealed skin, his grip on your body tightening.

“Jungkook…”

“Yes?” He leans on his elbow, looking down at you. His eyes were curious, cautious, but his chest was heavy on yours. His presence over you left your stomach hungry-

You felt that hunger drop through your body, spread down your legs as you felt yourself heat up for an entirely different reason.

You try to focus on something other than his warmth.

“Is this okay for you? Being here in the city?” You push his hair behind his ear so you can stare into his eyes. Jungkook nods, but you press him. “Are you going to be okay? Everything here is so…tight, packed. You were free in the woods.” Even the cabin felt less confining than your apartment. Would he even be able to transform here?

Jungkook shakes his head no, a small smile curling over his lips, “I wasn’t free. Not until I met you.”

You interlace your fingers with his. “You might have to stay just human until I can find some place better, is that okay?” You were thinking of leaving this place anyways, there were too many old memories here, traces of your ex that stuck to the walls of your home.

“I like being human,” Jungkook shrugs, lying his head back down on your shoulder. “I want to be human, with you.” Jungkook’s preference was one of the reasons his packmates would torment him, how could he prefer such a weaker form?

“I want to be with you too,” you hum, melding into Jungkook’s embrace. “I love you,” you whisper, knowing Jungkook could hear you loud and clear. It was undeniable how much you wanted him near you, how you wished you had met him sooner, before your heart was broken and guarded, maybe then you wouldn’t feel so fearful of your future together.

Jungkook smiled and moved himself closer…and as you were both already pressed up against each other, closer meant his body over yours, legs tangled, his head buried into the crook of your neck .

Now that Jungkook had already given himself to you, it was hard to stop himself when you were right there, in nothing but a t-shirt, so beautiful under him.

He wanted all his senses filled with just you.

He breathed in deep. He wanted to drown in the sweet scent of your love, feel your skin against every inch of his, listen to your soft sighs, your breathing escalating as he licked across your neck.

He wanted to study your features, your body, memorize your unique and intoxicating taste as he explored your mouth with his tongue.

He wanted to tell you the same, he wanted to make you his mate, and hold you forever.

But he was still too shy and unsure of himself. He doubted he even deserved such a happy ending to his life when so much wickedness lived inside of him.

But with you under him, even if he couldn’t tell you what he desired, his instincts to claim you in that moment took over. You were always so responsive from his touch, so inviting, and he craved your sweetness.

Your mouth widened and your legs opened, acting like a perfect mate, he thought. Your lust hit him in waves, each hit stronger than the last, encouraging him on. It made his desire to have you all consuming.

You gasp as Jungkook rips your shirt open. Oh, you’re definitely going to need more clothes.

It was hard to be annoyed over clothes when Jungkook had himself pressed so tightly against you, his mouth kissing you with such unrestrained passion it made your head spin.

You both rushed to have him inside of you, you were so wound up and ready to release all the tension and anxiety you felt.

“So warm,” Jungkook moaned, buried deep inside you. His hips jerk forward, pushing you up the bed. “So soft.” He loved the softness of your body when he bent your legs forward, spread your thighs open, his fingers digging into your supple skin. With the curves of your body molding into his, all he could think about was how perfect you were for him, his perfect mate.

You don’t think you’ll ever get quite used to this full feeling, or the way Jungkook makes love to you so fervently. Even on your best days with your past lover, it was never like this. What you felt in Jungkook’s embrace was primal.

Your bodies collided together like you were meant to stay connected as one. The pleasure you felt was blinding, bright as the light of two stars crashing together and creating something so brilliant there was nothing else. And for you, there was only Jungkook consuming your thoughts and overriding your senses, driving you higher into the cosmos.

“Yes, yes, yes!” your cries of pleasure only made Jungkook thrust faster, harder into your heat. The way you tightened and he expanded felt so intensely satisfying you both unraveled into a mixture of grunts and growls, until you came around him shaking, his own following quickly after, hips stuttering and filling you up.

You clenched around him in sensitivity as he swelled even more inside you. “Fuck, I’m not used to this,” you shuddered, laughing breathlessly.

“Sorry,” Jungkook nipped at your lips, rolling over so you laid over him, nestled to his chest. You listened to his erratic heartbeat as your own breathing slowed. “My kind mate like this.”

“‘Mate’…” you smile against his chest at the way he describes the act. “Is that what we’re doing, mating? Are you trying to get me pregnant, Jungkook?” you tease cheekily. You were on birth control, so you weren’t particularly worried, but giggled at Jungkook’s flushed face and flustered expression.

Jungkook bites his lips as your fingers draw circles into his chest. You should be tired after coming, but the way his dick was still hard and thick inside you hadn’t helped to lessen your appetite to have him. The twitch of his cock felt so good still, the fullness of his cum inside you felt obscenely arousing. You swiveled your hips against his, making you both moan.

“If you wanted to…” The thought of you pregnant with his child had his body feverish. He licked his lips, calming himself before he took you all over again. He could smell you weren’t yet in heat, but that did not stop his fantasies from running wild.

“Is that what you want?” you ask, licking your lips.

Jungkook shifts inside you again, barely holding himself together.

Could he have this; his deepest desires, with you?

He nods quickly. You run your thumb across his jawline. You hadn’t really thought about children with your ex-boyfriend, especially at the end of your relationship when the sex was barely existent. When you looked down at Jungkook, who looked so reverently up at you, who you’ve known for only a sliver of time...somehow the idea of a future family seemed more…real than it’s ever been.

“Let’s work on getting you some new clothes first,” you smile. “Then we can talk about that–hey! O-Oh–” you laugh, your giggles turning into a series of moans as Jungkook pulls you into a kiss, pressing his hips up.

---

You giggle as Jungkook carries eight bags full of new clothes and groceries. He looks around the open market, head spinning in all directions at the sight and sounds and smells. You looked at a table with jewelry displayed. There were already Valentine’s Day sales, but even with the marked down price it was still out of your price range. You frown, “Ready to go home?” Jungkook nods, bags in tow.

“Just set everything on the table, what do you think of stew tonight? I have a new recipe I want to try!” you clasp your hands together excitedly, pulling off your coat and rolling up your sleeves. Jungkook was already dressed in one of his new outfits, a tight sheer turtleneck that made his muscles stand out.

You reached for the ends of his sleeves, rolling them to his forearms. Jungkook stared down at you, smirking at the way your body was already starting to heat up.

“Here, for you.”

“Jungkook, where did you get that?!” You grab the bracelet from his hand, astonished.

“Err you wanted it, didn’t you? You were staring at it back at the-”

“But you can’t just take it! That’s stealing!” You turn the shiny piece dangling in your grasp, admiring it despite your worries.

Jungkook frowns, “I’m s-sorry, that’s what we used to do when we came into the city.”

“You and your, um, brothers?” you ask. Jungkook nods. “You can’t…there’s CCTV, you’ll get caught,” you warn. Jungkook bites his bottom lip, he very much doubted he would get caught, but he nodded in agreement nonetheless.

“It’s beautiful…” you murmur, “but not worth getting in trouble.” You still put it around your wrist, Jungkook helps you clasp the ends when you struggle, concentrating on the tiny piece with a furrowed brow that makes you giggle.

“Thank you, Jungkook…but don’t do it again, please.” Jungkook nods, surprised when you pull him into a hug, and then pull his head down for a kiss. If you react this way, he will just have to find a way to get you jewelry without stealing, he thinks, already wanting to do it again.

“We need to cook!” you laugh when he licks and nibbles the column of your neck.

A knock draws both your attention away.

Who could be knocking so late at night? It couldn’t be your family or friends, they would have called you ahead of time.

And suddenly you felt like you were back in the woods, fear washing over you as you walked cautiously closer to the door, peering through the peephole.

No…

‘Stay there,’ you motion to Jungkook anxiously, who looks back at you like he wants to do anything but that.

You unlock the door and open it. “What are you doing here?”

“Y/n, hey. I heard you were back from your trip. How was your Christmas?”

Your ex stands awkwardly at your door. ‘It was supposed to be our trip,’ you think, annoyed. “Yeah,” you clear your throat. “It was good. Did you need something?”

He looks lost, confused at your demeanor. You frown, crossing your arms over your chest. What did he expect from you? you think, to beg him to take you back? “I, um, wanted to get some things I left...”

“Okay, stay here-”

“Let me help you, I wanted to talk-”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You block his way in as he advances, holding the door firmly.

“Come on, you’re really going to make me wait out here in the cold?”

You look down at your shoulder, the place where your ex had his hand placed over. You were not happy about the flood of emotions that entered your system, it was already hard enough to see his face, hear his voice, but then he had to go and touch you in some quazi-comforting gesture that made your blood boil and your heart ache. You couldn’t stop the shaking in your voice after that, “...after what you did…yes.” You flinch backward, shaking his hand off.

“I’m sorry, y/n, I’m so sorry. Please believe me-”

“I’ll never trust a word you say ever again!”

“Y/n, are you okay?” A hand landed on your shoulder again, gripping it hard, pressing into the muscle to relax your tense body.

Jungkook stood at your back protectively, crossing his arms, chest puffed out trying to look intimidating, and you guess he did to others who did not know him like you did.

You were grateful for his presence. “I’m fine,” you mumble looking over your shoulder, “Let me go get your stuff,” you address your ex.

“Uh-” Jungkook moves forward, hiding you from his view. “H-Hey.”

Jungkook glares, lips tightly shut, leaving a heavy awkward silence in the air.

Your ex stands stiffly at your door until you come back with a box of his old clothes and toiletries. “Here you go.”

He looks between you and Jungkook. “Is this a friend?” You could tell he was uncomfortable with even that idea, his demeanor completely caught off guard by Jungkook’s presence.

You were allowed to move on, he’s the one who cheated on you! The days after you caught him in the act, leading up to Christmas, were some of the worst days of your life. You haven’t forgotten or forgiven him. Your ex had made you feel worthless, stomping on your feelings like you were dirt under his shoe, he made you think no one could love you again...

“No,” you say, “this is my boyfriend.”

You guess you could call Jungkook that. Your bond was a bit more complicated, even if neither of you really made things official until this moment.

“What, your ‘boyfriend?’” he said, tone unpleasant.

“Yes,” Jungkook glares, daring him to challenge him, placing his hand protectively around your waist. “I’m hers.”

You have unwittingly become leader of your own little pack. It was definitely a complicated bond.

-🌕-

It happened during the next full moon.

You woke up drenched in sweat, your muscles locked, your skin felt like it was on fire.

You were in too much pain to speak, you trembled and whimpered instead. Jungkook pulled your body out of bed, carrying you to your shower, holding you tightly as water cascaded down your bodies, steam filling the bath even though the water was cold.

Your eyes were a glowing shade of red as you shook in Jungkook’s arms and looked up at him pleading for help. The more you fought against what was happening, the more pain you felt. Your long nails dug into his arm, drawing blood as you gritted your teeth.

“I’m here, I’m here, I’ll protect you” Jungkook whispered soothingly, but he did not really know how to help you. Until you began screaming, resisting with everything inside you, and all he could do to quiet you was to press his lips to yours, softening your cries.

You woke up on your living room floor, furniture pushed to the walls and Jungkook’s large wolf body encircled around you, with only a foggy memory of the night before.

-🌗-

“Hello! Thank you for returning my call.”

Jungkook sits cross legged on your couch, now pushed to the wall, as you pace around the living room. After that terrifying night you left a lengthy voice massage for the cabin’s owner, desperate for help.

Jungkook watches you move back and forth and wishes he could calm your nerves. He felt useless, like a burden, a horrible mate, no, a boyfriend, Jungkook reminded himself.

“Heh, did I say werewolf?” you pace to the left, “Wait are those real? Oh, of course, that makes sense...” you pace to the right, “Yes...um, I did say that, didn’t I? Well, he was human when I brought him inside, I wouldn’t just let a wolf inside your cabin-” you stop in the center, sending Jungkook a worried smile, “Yes. Right. I-I just really need your help!” Jungkook shifts forward on the couch encouraging you to keep going. “Your cabin had um, some kind of, protection magic? Right?” Jungkook watches as you listen to her answer, shaking your head in frustration. “I’ll pay you! I will pay you, if you help me.”

“Oh…” You take a seat on the couch. Jungkook listens as you explain what happened on Christmas Day in more detail and the days following, his head in your lap, enjoying when you scratch his scalp. You slump into the cushions, pouting. “Yes, I know you said not to go outside at night, but-”

You play with the strands of Jungkook’s hair as you listen silently. “Is there a way to protect my home too?” you ask, so pleadingly Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist wishing you did not have to go through this.

“He’s not!” you yell. “Oh, I was not–I see…yes.”

Suddenly, your exasperated expression turns into one of excitement. You jump up from the couch, looking for a paper and pen. “Yes yes! Okay.” Jungkook looks over your shoulder thinking, ‘What is Wolfsbane?’

“Thank you!”

-🌓-

This counted as spring cleaning right? you think as you finish boxing the last items left in your bedroom. “Jungkook!”

“Yeah?” he seemingly appears out of nowhere, peaking into the room.

“Can you tape this up?” you ask, standing up and brushing the dust off your pants.

Jungkook nods, tape gun already in hand. His helpfulness is cute and endearing, and his lack of shirt and tight ripped pants made him irresistible. You run to the kitchen to make sure your sexy boyfriend doesn’t distract you any more than he already has.

But Jungkook, for all his intimidating good looks, acts like a lost puppy, following after you straight away. “Let me help.” He reaches over you, pulling the last of the dishes from the top shelves of your cabinets.

He smells good. Even after hours of moving boxes, he smells so good.

“Hey,” his hushed voice drops two octaves, looking down at you. He could always tell when you were distracted...aroused.

“Two more hours until the movers get here,” you remind him. You were relieved you found a nice place to move into, it was bigger and cheaper due to its location near a college, and there was even a park in walking distance.

Jungkook licks his lips, “Two more hours?” he repeats, moving closer to you.

“We haven’t finished packing,” you remind him, sensing his intentions.

Your hand against his bare chest for space is not helping, only decreasing your reluctance. “Two hours is plenty of time,” he surprises you by picking you up, dropping you on the counter.

“We should focus on–oh–the–ah-”

You really couldn’t focus on anything other than Jungkook’s mouth leaving love bites across your chest, his lips and teeth dragging down your skin, lowering his head until he was nipping at your stomach.

He teased you, pulling away your clothes until you were naked and willing to waste time with him. Your enthusiasm always riled Jungkook up, made him animalistic, until he was pushing you down onto the only carpet left unrolled, mounting you and thrusting into you hard and deep as you squirmed under his strong hold, getting wetter and tighter as he quickened his paced until he was feral, unhinged thrusts fucking into you as deep as he could reach.

“Please-”

“Please what?” he growled into your ear, spilling all his filthy thoughts out, “Give it to you harder? Fill your womb up with my seed?”

“Yes-”

“You would look so good–ah-full with my pups. Would you like that?” He laid his weight over you, rolling his hips to reach every part inside you.

“Fill me up,” you moan, “I want your babies.”

Jungkook’s cock swelled, pumping you full of his cum. You could feel rivers of his release against your walls, sticky and wet, with no place to go with his cock plugged inside you.

You laid gasping and twitching under him, covered in sweat, filled to the brim.

“Want more?” he grunts, holding your body down. You nod eagerly.

Knock knock knock.

You and Jungkook look up surprised, locked together and naked, thinking of a good excuse for the movers.

-🌕-

Three times it’s happened, and though it's gotten easier for Jungkook, it never gets easier for you.

Walking the aisles of the convenience store late at night kept your mind off the things in your life you couldn’t control. Like random spontaneous transformations, the looming threat of monsters after you, or reoccurring night terrors that left you with even more unanswered questions.

You sneaked away while Jungkook was sleeping, hoping that a surprise dinner date would do as an apology for the night before.

Even if Jungkook did not act like you had done anything wrong, this morning you saw the fresh scars that covered his shoulders and reached his neck. It killed you inside to see the marks, evidence of what you had done...it terrified you.

“Can’t go wrong with noodles,” you sigh, adding a variety of flavors for Jungkook to try. ‘Hmmm, what else would he like?’ You should probably get him some meat too, you think, grabbing various cuts. You weren’t a big meat eater before, but even just smelling the raw beef had your mouth watering. You shiver, pushing those kind of thoughts out of your mind.

You notice a huge display of strawberries, your favorite fruit, juicy and red, abundant in the spring season, so you grab some for Jungkook to try.

Maybe you should take him to a strawberry farm! The idea of Jungkook curiously roaming around a field of the red fruit, carefully choosing the ripest berries, makes you smile. You’ve noticed just how gentle Jungkook acts despite his massive size.

You add ‘strawberry picking,’ to the mental list of things you want Jungkook to experience. ‘Oh, Jungkook.’ You wanted to let him rest, give him some space since the only time you’ve been apart from each other is when you went in to work, but you’re starting to miss him already. How silly, you think.

While in your thoughts you hadn’t noticed the man next to you, but you smelled him, a familiar scent...if you didn’t know better you might have mistaken that smell for your stubborn boyfriend.

As though he recognized the moment you finally noticed his presence, he cleared this throat, “Excuse me, can you help me?”

You turn around, catching light brown eyes. The stranger offers you a large bright smile, it makes you feel safe...warm.

With his sharp jaw, high cheekbones, and long brown hair, he is very handsome, intimidatingly so. “O-Oh, what did you need help with?” You look over to the basket he is carrying, filled with alcohol.

“Well,” he laughs shyly, “I’m new to the area, looking for some place to take my brothers, do you know any good nightclubs around here?”

“Oh, I just moved here too,” you smile, “There is a University close by! I bet there are clubs and bars around there.” You pull out your phone and open your navigation app, searching for the University. The man moves closer, looking over your shoulder while you toggle the map to magnify the area.

You glance to your side, where the man peers over your shoulder, eyes concentrating on your phone. His presence feels familiar and you can’t help but think of Jungkook.

This man reminds you of Jungkook. It’s a crazy thought. A scary thought.

His eyes dart up quick to meet yours, so fast you almost flinch, feeling embarrassed you were caught staring. But he just smiles wide, crescent eyes shining.

You quickly navigate your phone, pushing those ridiculous thoughts away, it has been months already and nothing has happened.

“Oh here, there’s a street full of bars. This one club has four and a half stars. He tilts his head closer to you, hair brushing along your cheekbone. Too close. You step to the side, closer to the strawberries, mindlessly running your fingers along the cases and picking out another box out of nervousness.

“Can you text me that address?” he asks, “If you don’t mind!” he adds quickly.

“Oh? Okay.” You fumble with your cell, “Yeah, sure.”

“You smell nice, what is that scent?” His fingertips graze the edges of your hair making you tilt your head away.

“Um, coconut, maybe?” you laugh nervously.

“Coconut? I will have to try that,” he smiles.

His phone dings after he finishes typing his number in, an old flip phone style you haven’t seen in years. The loose sleeveless shirt he wore left his lean muscles out on display. He catches you staring, smiling, “Well, nice meeting you, um…” he waits patiently for you to finish his sentence.

“Y/n.” you smile awkwardly.

“Hoseok. Maybe we’ll see each other around then? I will introduce you to my brothers.” He gives you a bright smile, tongue in between his teeth.

“Yeah, maybe.” You smile politely.

You steered your cart to check out, looking over your shoulder one last time, curiosity getting the better of you, watching him saunter away, alcohol and berries now in his cart.

Wait.

Why do you have only have one case?

---

As you unload your bags of groceries on the kitchen counter a sleepy Jungkook presses himself to your back, “Where did you go?”

“To get dinner. I thought we could make something from scratch,” you muse, “pasta with meat sauce?”

You turn and your smile slowly drops at Jungkook’s expression. “Jungkook....”

His grip around your waist tightens as his head lowers to your shoulder.

“It hurts,” you wince, pulling away.

“Why do you smell like that? Where did you go?!”

“Just to the store! That’s all,” you say, confused.

“Did you meet someone?!” He yanks your shirt closer, stretching the fabric.

“No! I mean, y-yes, there was-”

“You let him touch you!?”

He looks furious, his chest rising and falling rapidly, anger radiating off of him. Jungkook could smell his scent running along the column of your neck. It made him see red.

“No!” you yell. “He wanted my help-”

Jungkook groans, turning away. He makes sure the front door is locked out of habit, even though a small lock wouldn’t truly stop them from entering. He runs to the window, using his senses to search for the same scent on you.

Had you been followed? Jungkook was sure of it, they knew exactly where you were and that you were alone. How long have they known?

“Jungkook, what’s happening?”

They're here.

“His name was Hoseok,” Jungkook says solemnly, looking over his shoulder to you.

“Y-Yes,” you swallow. “He said he was looking for a bar for his...brothers. But he was n-nice! Fuck, I should have kno–he even reminded me of you.”

“I’M NOT LIKE HIM.”

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach in that moment, chest hurting from the weight of his words. “Just take a deep breathe, before something happens-”

“BEFORE WHAT HAPPENS?” Jungkook roars, “Before I turn into a monster?!”

You shake your head no, your hands reaching on either side of his face. You could feel his body shaking in anger against your palms. “No, I did not mean it that way, you’re not like them, Jungkook, you’re not.”

You rest your forehead against his until his breathing calms down. You did not know how to explain all the reasons why you loved him, and simply said, “I love you.”

His mood changes, leaning into your palm. “I’m sorry, I can’t stand it, the thought of any of them touching you...hurting you...” he takes in a shaky inhale, “I love you too.”

-🌖-

“Touch right there,” you point, taking a deep breath, “and it will call him.” You hand Jungkook your phone. “Ready?”

He nods and you hold hands while the line rings three times. A taunting voice you don’t recognize answers.

“Am I speaking to y/n…or Jungkook?”

“Stop, whatever you are planning, stop it. I’m warning you,” Jungkook growls.

“You know we can’t do that. Where ever you go, we’ll be there. We’re family, aren’t we? You can’t leave family behind.” The voice laughs and Jungkook grinds his teeth.

“He doesn’t want to live with you anymore, can’t you see that?” you interject.

“Doesn’t want to? We all do things we don’t want to. Do you think I want to be in this infested town? Entertaining the likes of you?” The voice’s sweet mocking tone turns dark and threatening so quickly it makes the bile in your stomach rise.

“Jimin, don’t speak to her like that!”

“Ooh, I’ve never seen our Jungkook so possessive,” another deeper voice speaks up.

“Over a human,” another one scoffs quietly in the background.

“He always had a soft spot for them.”

“But does she know, what he’s done to her kind?”

“Did you tell her, Jungkookie?”

There were too many voices, all speaking one after the other, until silence left everyone including you waiting for his answer.

You spoke up instead when Jungkook could no longer keep his eyes locked with yours, looking down shamefully. “Whatever he’s done in the past, it doesn't matter! Especially when it’s been under your influence!”

The group’s mocking laughter rings through your phone’s speaker. “What a loyal pet.”

It was another voice, one that hadn't spoken yet, one you recognize, one that haunted your nightmares still.

The man in the fur coat, the one who attacked you, spoke last. Everyone else stopped talking, showing respect to their leader.

“How are you feeling, by the way? It was a full moon last night, wasn’t it?” he says in a chilling mocking tone.

He tuts, “What are you going to do, Jungkook? You’re lost without us. You’re nothing. Acting like a human, it’s pathetic. Even she’s stronger than you now-”

“That’s not true.” you grit.

“Pet, you know it is my blood inside you, not Jungkook’s. I’m inside you,” he laughs. You hang up, not wanting to hear anymore.

“They know where we live,” Jungkook says solemnly.

“It’s okay, we have all the things Miss Manyo gave us. They will work,” you reassure Jungkook. “You’ve gotten stronger too,” you whisper encouragingly, “They don’t know about that...”

“Is there a way to protect my home too?” you ask, desperately hoping for good news.

“You’ve already let a beast inside,” Miss Manyo says thoughtfully. “We would need another kind of spell-”

“He’s not!” you yell.

“He? Huh? I was talking about you, dear,” she says softly.

“Oh, I was not–”

“You have a beast inside you. It will have to be a different spell, I will have to search for one,” she sighs. “It will cost extra,” she says cheekily, trying to lighten the mood.

“I see…” you whisper, embarrassed you misunderstood her.

“You said ‘he,’ before, he’s there with you now, yes? The hmm wolf boy you found.”

“Yes,” you swallow.

“Okay, that will make things difficult, but not impossible! Here, I'm going to give you a list of items to ward off those pesky wolves while I see what I can do, just warn your friend to keep his distance, you might feel the affects as well because of your...condition, write these down...ready?”

Suddenly, your exasperated expression turns into one of excitement. You jump up from the couch, looking for a paper and pen. “Yes yes! Okay.” You scribble down a list of items while Jungkook looks over your shoulder.

“I used to vacation in the summer at that cabin when I was a little girl” she says wistfully, “I’m all too familiar with the legends of those woods,” she sighs. “That spell was cast long ago, but I might be able to recreate it...I can’t make any promises,” she warns wearily, “but I will try my best. The wards cast are old and powerful. Unlike things in this world, magic only gets stronger with age...like me,” she laughs.

“Thank you!”

---

“Jungkook, you have to let me go to work, if they were going to attack me like that, don’t you think they would have done it by now?”

The poor shapeshifter had made you late to work for the third time this week.

“They showed themselves, its only a matter of time before they try to hurt you! Please, take one of your ‘sickness days’, or let me come with you again! I will hide better!”

You sigh. You and Jungkook couldn’t live in fear for the rest of your life. You won’t!

“Or-” Your eyes widen, excitedly. “We could catch them first! We have everything we need now. Jungkook...are they the type to make a scene?”

“Oh my! Well well, so this is what they look like without all the fur.”

Miss Manyo circles Jungkook, enthralled. “You definitely have taken my advice on strengthening your human form,” she pinches a shell-shocked Jungkook’s cheek. “Right? Hasn’t he?” she whispers in your direction.

“Well, yes,” you tilt your head thinking, “but he has always looked like that.”

“Dear, I completely understand you now.”

“Heh heh, t-that’s not why-Oh! Are those-”

You notice two necklaces in her hands. “This one,” she holds up the silver chain with a green gem attached, “will protect the space as long as the wearer is inside, it was the best I could do at such short notice, sorry dear.” You nod. Right now you were happy for anything. Holding the silver necklace doesn’t hurt, only tickles your skin, but you can imagine how it might get uncomfortable the longer you wear it.

You’ll endure.

“What is the other necklace for?”

“This one,” she holds up a gold necklace with a red gem attached. “Is for him! That is, if he wants it,” she smiles.

“For me?” Jungkook’s eyes go wide in surprise and Miss Manyo sighs wistfully, completely enamored.

“Err what does it do?” you ask.

The old witch laughs quite deviously.

-🌗-

“This is beautiful,” you sigh, “Don’t you think?” You and Jungkook walk down the street after eating lunch at a new café. There is an entire block spanning with flower stand after flower stand of all colors. “Should we get some?”

“What do you do with them?”

“You look at them, I guess?” you laugh.

“But they are cut,” he flops the bouquet upside down, and thin tiny petals go flying, “They are going to die.” you send an apologetic look to the seller, pulling out your wallet to pay for the bouquet. Jungkook holds a bouquet up to his nose...and sneezes.

“Well, yeah, but we’re all going to die eventually, aren’t we? What’s important is appreciating the beauty of the moment,” you smile, hugging his side, grabbing the beautiful bouquet and admiring the flowers, “like being here with you.”

Jungkook kisses your cheek softly. “Next time can we get a bouquet with roots?”

You laugh, “Yes, definitely.”

“Not in public, Jungkook,” you shoo Jungkook away. Your boyfriend has become very touchy as of late. You did not think it was even possible for Jungkook, who always found a way to wrap himself around you.

You did not mind, but having his hands all over you while waiting in line for dessert pastries might be ruining the appetites of those around you! You laugh, moving away embarrassed. Jungkook kisses you one last time, standing stoic with his arm over your shoulder.

You couldn’t help but feel proud to have such a doting boyfriend, someone as kind and protective as him. It was you, who cuddled into his embrace this time, too happy to have him in your life.

By the time you chose your pastries, a strawberry cheesecake petit gateau for you and a meat and cheese croissant for Jungkook, it started to rain.

The sun was still shinning despite the rain, and instead of running for cover, Jungkook grabbed your hand and led you to a place you passed by on you search for the café.

“W-Where are we going?” you ask confusedly.

“I want to show you something! It only happens when it rains,” he says excitedly.

So you follow Jungkook in the rain, without an umbrella, without a second thought.

“When it rained like this, I would go to the lake in the woods, and watch the raindrops jump back up, look look!” he smiles, looking at the small pond, admiring the rain hitting the surface.

“It was calming,” he sighs, smiling to himself, unbothered by the raindrops falling down onto his clothes. “The others would sit with me and watch sometimes. We wouldn’t talk, just listen to the rain...drink...be happy...” he says smiling.

“Do you miss them?”

Jungkook stays quiet for a very long time. You sit next to him, throwing your head back and letting the raindrops sprinkle your face for the first time since you were a child. You listened to the rain, the steady pattern was soothing, Jungkook was right.

Jungkook thinks about the rare moments where he would play with the pack, laughing.

“No.” Those moments were nothing compared to every day sacrificing his humanity to please the pack, to make his leader happy.

Jungkook did not want to go back into the woods.

Jungkook wanted to live with you.

He wanted to be a better man. He wanted to be a man.

You notice Jungkook’s somber shift in mood. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned them.” You push the wet strands of hair out of Jungkook’s eyes.

“It’s okay, I’m happy, this is more fun. This is what I wanted,” he smiles, kissing your worries away.

Maybe it was because he always did it to you, or maybe you wanted him closer; you buried your head against the crook of his neck, holding him tightly, kissing the rain off his neck.

Jungkook closes his eyes, listens to the water and your steady heartbeat. A slow warmth starts in his throat, spreading down to his chest, vibrating in pit of his stomach. He loved every touch, caress, and kiss you gave him, but this...made him wild.

The rain showers down harder, clouds covering the sun. The plastic bag that held your pastry box was safe from the rain, your clothes however, were not spared. The spring dress you wore clung to all your curves, garnering all of Jungkook’s attention.

He picks you up abruptly, surprising you, arms wrapped under your thighs, pushing your short dress even higher up your widened thighs.

Your lips find his mouth, tasting his soft wet lips, and he deepens the kiss until you were breathless.

The rain tickles your exposed skin.

Jungkook held you like you weighed nothing, energized by his desperate need for you. He licked into your mouth, tongue pressing over yours in a performance of passion and dominance that left you panting and jittery with adrenaline and lust.

“Let’s go home,” you offer, wanting more.

“Why? No one is around.”

That was true, the rain was strong enough now that no one else dared to stay outside.

You pant, his growing hardness pressing between your legs affecting you more and more.

You give in. “O-Over there,” you look over to the treeline which would provide you with a little more cover from the rain and intruding eyes.

Jungkook looks around, the tiny park is empty and he can’t wait. He wants to take you here, out in the open.

The embarkment was perfect to lie your body against, pound you into the earth. Oh he wants to, desires so badly to claim you, lie your body on the grass and fuck you full of his cum.

You wiggle in his embrace until he drops you. You try to concentrate while his arms go under your dress, yanking you possessively closer. “Let’s go over t-there,” you moan as he fervently kisses your neck, sucking your soft skin and marking it.

“Oh f-fuck...w-wait!” You grab his cheeks, pushing his head away, so you can steady yourself.

There was an animalistic need in his eyes that made your body tingle all over. “Y/n, please,” he begs as he tries to nip at your lips again. His please was such a desperate low pleading murmur you felt your body surge.

“Catch me,” you kiss his lips playfully, before turning and running towards the treeline.

You bounced away, dress clinging thin to your assets. Jungkook felt his dick swell, an urge overtaking his body at the thought of capturing you in his arms, like an itch he always wanted to scratch, a filthy desire to claim you in the most animalistic way. Jungkook never gave in to that side of him, but his desires were too strong, his composure strung too thin, snapping all of his restraints.

He let you have what you wanted, a chase to a more secluded location, because he got to have what he wanted, you.

So sweet and soft you felt, your pretty voice whimpering such lewdness when he caught you, lifting you up in his arms. He held you against a tree, your legs back around his torso, and your inviting wet pussy stretching over his cock.

Jungkook did not hold back, ravaging your body, and you, too filled with pleasure did not mind his passionate digging touches. You grip the muscles of his back, adrenaline pumping through your veins, gasping into his mouth for more.

You'll take Jungkook in his sweet boyish charm and wild passion, you want all of him, just as he is.

-🌖-

“You look...”

“Yes?” you twirl in your light purple tulle dress.

“...cold,” Jungkook bites his lip, blushing.

“What!” you laugh. You admit the tulle skirt is cut in a way that shows off most of your legs, but this spring has been so hot!

“People will see,” Jungkook pouts.

“See what?”

“Your body,” he says. He hugs you close, gliding his mouth over every exposed bit of skin he sees.

“You’re the only eyes I care about,” you whisper breathlessly, unable to hide the way his ministrations affects you.

“Let’s stay home,” he says smirking wickedly, affected by your growing arousal.

“No!” you laugh. “C’mon,” you say, pushing your handsy boyfriend towards the door, “It’s tonight, we have to stop acting like prey and start acting like...monster hunters!” you wink, pulling on your white lacy gloves, picking up an array of silver utensils and pocketing them in your purse, the far cheaper option to the old century silver daggers Miss Manyo suggested.

---

“Do you want to dance?”

Jungkook grabs your waist, yanking you to his side, practically growling under his breath.

The stranger holds up his hands in surrender, “Sorry, sorry,” moving quickly away.

You sigh, wrapping your arms around you jealous partner’s neck. “Do you want to dance?” you ask Jungkook. “Do you smell them here?” you whisper.

Jungkook could barely think with the music so loud. He currently smelled a lot of things, unpleasant things at that; the rancid smell of alcohol everywhere, body order, vomit. He hated this part of the hunt his brothers would engage in. It was so hard to concentrate when there were so many loud noises and flashing lights. But he thinks, he feels, they are here, somewhere.

“How am I supposed to concentrate now?” he murmurs against your hair. You roll your hips into him again, laughing.

“Dance with me, ” you give him a teasing look and pull him on the dance floor. “You’re so stiff, relax!” you smile, pressing your body close to his “C’mon, we can’t be afraid,” you tease. You pull Jungkook to you, guiding his body with yours, until he breaks into a small smile.

You tried your best to relax him, letting Jungkook spin you and pull you back into his embrace, keeping your own worries to yourself.

You peered over his shoulder as you danced together, watchful, scrutinizing each dark corner, each sharp noise, ready.

“They’re here.” Jungkook whispers. You nod against his chest, scanning the dance floor.

You felt eyes watching you.

It felt like the forest all over again, except this time, dancing bodies instead of trees stood as obstacles between you and the beasts, and this time, you were not going to run away.

Instead, you held Jungkook’s hand and moved your way through the crowd where you were sure you saw a glimpse of those eyes that haunted your dreams.

“Looks like we meet again, y/n.” Hoseok walks right into your path, knocking into you. You stumble back into Jungkook.

Hoseok only moves closer, sandwiching you between them on the crowded dance floor. “Yes, that’s how it looks,” you swallow.

Hoseok sends you a deceptive smile. “Calm down Jungkook, enjoy the night,” Hoseok warns, looking to the man behind you.

Jungkook can smell them, see their movements out of the corners of his eyes. Three other bodies move closer, his brothers moving in at all angles.

You felt it too, looking over your shoulder just in time to see two men knock into Jungkook on both sides, hands yanking him back. Hoseok moves too, finding your abandoned wrists and pulling you into a dance.

“You, I can see being foolish enough to come here and challenge us, but how did you convince our Jungkook?”

Hoseok expected you to be emanating fear, but you were calm and collected. Jungkook, usually impulsive and tempered, was holding back as well. Well, as best he could, his anger on the brink of exploding.

“What makes you think that? We just felt like dancing.”

“Ahh, and the fact that this is the place you suggested means nothing?”

“Have you been coming here every night waiting for us like a dog waiting for its master? Sounds miserable,” you jab.

“Oh, it wasn’t so bad,” Hoseok mimics your detached attitude rather than taking the bait. “This is the best bar in town, so many young men and women here, all just so eager and willing, they don’t even put up a fight,” his arms wrap around you suffocatingly tight.

Jimin yanks Jungkook’s shoulder back as he tries to move towards you. There's a rumble in Jungkook’s chest, a swirling pit of rage and jealousy watching Hoseok's hands travel over your dress, disappearing under your tulle skirt to lay his hands on your skin.

“Don’t do it, or it will only get worse for her,” Namjoon warns, pressed against Jungkook's other side, surveying the dancing crowd.

Hoseok drops his head down, smelling your neck. “But you, you have something up your sleeves, don’t you? Please tell me you do, we’ve all been aching for another fight.”

“So you can lose again?”

Hoseok laughs against your skin. You’re covered in Jungkook’s scent, Jungkook had made sure of that every night and every morning, but your perspiration from the heat of the club let your own smell come through just enough for Hoseok’s liking. Hoseok took the opportunity to lick your neck, tasting your sweat on his tongue.

You shudder in his embrace, this felt wrong and menacing and nothing like Jungkook's sweet acts of scenting you. “There’s only four of you tonight? Where are the others?” ‘Where is that man who wore the fur coat?’ you think.

“Oh, they are here, enjoying the show,” Hoseok smirks.

“Take me to him then, the one who did this,” you nod down to your shoulder, where the smallest tiniest scar still remains of your bite.

Hoseok laughs, hands roaming your body again. “To our Seokjin? Sure, I owe you an introduction, right? Just one last thing-”

You tried to catch Jungkook's eyes as Hoseok traps you in his embrace, kissing you. You saw him, three men surrounding him and another moving suspiciously closer. You trusted that he could handle himself, even with such unfair numbers, just as you hoped he trusted you as well and did not lash out in anger.

Jungkook’s blood boiled. It was the angriest the pack had ever seen him. Jungkook cracks his knuckles as he watches Hoseok continue to do as he please, moving you further and further away from him. “Hey,” A voice speaks out to him from behind. “Why are you wearing gloves?” Taehyung asks.

Jungkook moves like lightning; like a bolt of energy trapped in glass, ricocheting off in every angle, that was how the furious shapeshifter behaved.

Luckily, his pack mates made themselves conveniently close. Close enough for Jungkook to hit them in the face with a small purple enchanted flower, a bag of poisonous wolfsbane holding a confusion spell from his admiring new witch friend.

Yoongi, who was close by, stepped back, but Jungkook who had been training his human body all this time, was now just too strong and fast for him.

You finally manage to shove Hoseok off of you as he pushes you into a corner. You fall against the velvet seating, your shoulder knocking into the one you had been looking for.

Seokjin isn't wearing a fur coat anymore, he’s in a white suite, jacket opened and shirt barely buttoned, showing off his strong wide build.

The crowd of dancing bodies and loud music provided them with the perfect cover, or perhaps everyone was too drunk and apathetic to care about their violent movements.

“I could kill you right now.” Seokjin says, fingers wrapped around your neck. “Remember when I told you, you would beg me for death?” He studies your features up close, smiling at your struggle.

Your fingers dig into his forearm as you try to inhale fruitlessly. He brings you closer to him, your face merely inches away from him, “Interesting.”

Seokjin could see the cool blue club lights reflected back into your eyes, but even under the lightning he could see a familiar shade of red in your irises. His ego believed it was because of him, you were now part him after all.

Hoseok cranes his neck over the crowd, “Something is wrong.” He turns to leave, nodding for approval from Seokjin who nods back.

You smirk despite being seconds away from unconsciousness.

Seokjin is intrigued. He abruptly lets go and you gasp in air, coughing, rubbing your neck. “You’ve missed one small tiny detail in your plan, pet.”

“Yeah?” you cough.

Seokjin grabs your chin painfully tight, turning your head to the exact spot Jungkook was. He looked determined, weaving through the crowd to get to the pair of you.

“You wanted to get me alone, but what if that was what I also wanted, to finally have you all to myself?”

You swallow, looking out of the corner of your eye to look one last time at Jungkook.

“Oh, he’s so close.” Seokjin’s arm snake around your waist, holding you tight. “Right there,” he taunts.

The pulsing bass felt like a ticking clock, you felt it hit you with each beat, like a row of dominoes, toppling over, closer and closer to destroying everything. And Jungkook was on the path to destruction.

Or was he?

Seokjin watches the youngest pack member disappear back into the crowd.

“I have a confession,” you look over your shoulder. Seokjin still sees red, a burning confidence in your gaze, “You’re not that scary in your human form to be honest.”

“Is that right?” Seokjin smirks, his arm now digging into your side painfully. “Our kind do have a certain look to us in this form that makes it easier to lure in prey.” He leans close to your ear, keeping his eyes on the crowd. “But I’ll tell you a secret too...I know you visited our little witch friend,” he says smiling.

“Afraid then?” you whisper.

Seokjin laughs, “Oh I like this version of you.” He grabs the hand that held your wristlet, making sure you could not pull out what was in your purse. “You should be thanking me, don’t you think? I could teach you, just like I taught Jungkook, how to make the most of your...situation. Just pledge the rest of your life to me and I’ll be willing to spare it, how does that sound?”

But the confident woman you are now was not because of him, nor this courageousness you felt. The strength you felt inside of you was reinforced not by pain or fear, it was all love, it was all Jungkook.

You might have melted down Jungkook’s walls when you were stuck together for the winter, but Jungkook warmed your broken heart, made you feel cherished and loved again.

Jungkook was the reason you fought so hard, was the reason you nurtured this new side of you. Every time you let her in, you thought of Jungkook, and you felt safe...

-🌑-

“There’s legends that talk about what happened to you, but who really knows what is fact or fiction.” She shakes her head, “I only know the spells passed down from my family and my coven.”

“So there is nothing I can do to control it?” you ask, disheartened.

“Well now I didn’t say that...”

Jungkook sits still as he watches your resting figure on the ground. He pulls out slivers of grass nervously while he waits.

Miss Manyo stirs some old dried red flower petals in a large jar of water, reciting an incantation.

“What’s that?” Jungkook blinks, smelling the strong fragrance from his distance. You wanted to open your eyes, but she was insistent you keep them closed.

“Moon water from the last blood moon.”

“What are you going to do with it?”

“You ask a lot of questions, dear. You’re lucky you’re cute,” she teases. “I'm going to do this,” and Miss Manyo throws the entire contents of the water jar in your face.

“What the hell?!” You sit up, coughing out water, but you don’t see Miss Manyo anymore, or Jungkook. You don’t see anyone, because you’re not lying in green grass anymore. Your face and hair is no longer wet, but there's a chill in the air. The warmth of spring is gone, and so are you.

This familiar place is freezing, and yet when your finger tips drag along the winter snow on the ground, you aren’t cold. You breathe out a puff of smoke.

A twig cracks.

And the wind howls.

What are you suppose to do? Why did she bring you back here?

You stand up. Everything is quiet and snow falls steadily around you.

It's too quiet, the hairs on the back of you neck stand up, so you hurriedly stand up.

Another branch breaks.

You turn around suddenly, moving before you even realized what you were doing.

You see it, so far away yet so recognizable against the winter white.

And for those few moments, it feels like time stops still.

You have to make a choice.

You decide to run.

And the dark wolf, sensing your decision too, sprints forward, its paws kicking up white dust.

You take a hurried step backward.

Solid footing, to push you forward.

---

“Never,” you grit out. “I came here for answers. What did you do to me?!” You try to yank your arm out of Seokjin's grasp with all your might, yet you barely move in his grasp. “What has been happening to me?”

Seokjin thinks for a moment, looking away from you to look over the crowd again, like he’s buying time, but time’s up, you’ve bought it all up.

Screams of terror fill the club, there’s a crash, and another, and another.

A roar louder than the bass boosted music, louder than the screams and noises of the club, louder than anything you’ve ever heard erupts.

And a huge wolf appears from the crowd with a struggling man in its mouth.

“Sorry, Jungkook told me how you hated making a scene,” you smirk. You try to pull away from Seokjin, but he's stronger, lifting you off your feet as the crowd panics.

A group of drinkers knock into you both as they hurriedly try to get away from the enormous beast. You and the furious pack leader fall to the ground and it distracts Seokjin just enough...

You jump to your feet, quickly opening your purse before Seokjin reaches for you again. His nails dig into your scalp as you try to get away, pulling you back by the hair.

“Do you know what you have done? You have endangered us all,” Seokjin sneers, yanking you back harder.

“If you stay human, you’ll be fine,” you mock, “that is, if Jungkook doesn’t get to you first.” In that moment Jungkook whips his head, growling, throwing a bleeding Hoseok into the air.

You scream, “JUNGKOOK,” before Seokjin covers your mouth. Jungkook in his wolf form pounces over tables and bar stools to get to you.

Seokjin recoils his hands away, yelling in pain.

“Is that a...spoon?” he balks.

“Yep,” you hold it up happily. You throw it at his head, pushing through the escaping crowd. Seokjin chases right after you.

With every knock against your shoulder, you have to reorient yourself, losing precious distance. You see flashes of white moving closer and closer, Seokjin shoving to the ground anyone who dares to run into him.

“Jungkook!” you scream, running towards the farthest exit instead, where terrified drinkers disperse as Jungkook’s large wolf body course corrects. “Jungkoo-”

“Y/n!” Jungkook crashes into you, pulling you through the exit doors.

“Hold on!” you stumble, “I can’t run like this,” you pant, pulling off your heels.

“I told you to wear boots!” Jungkook and you start running again.

“I would have looked silly! No one wears hiking boots to a club, they would have noticed too,” you try to yell as you run. “This way!” You and Jungkook run towards the university. There’s tons of students around this area, they wouldn’t-

One shrill scream makes you turn your head, only to catch three large wolves barreling down the sidewalk.

“How long was that spell supposed to last?”

“I don’t know! I have more-”

“Your should have thrown the whole bag at them-”

Jungkook looks behind him. The wolves are catching up fast. “Should I-”

“No! Don’t transform. Follow me!”

There’s a park by the university, a pretty spacious piece of green land sandwiched between high-rises, with a few trails that veer off the lighted pathway, making a perfect hideaway.

“Go!” Jungkook tells you to hide.

“No, you go-”

“I stay. We have to keep our distance, I’ll find you,” Jungkook pulls you into a crushing kiss, and you relent, sprinting away.

Seokjin said he wanted you all to himself, but that was a lie. No, the pack leader doesn’t want you apart, he wants you and Jungkook together, so Jungkook has to watch, so you hold back.

-🌑-

And Miss Manyo throws the entire contents of the water jar in your face.

You sit up, gasping for breath, coughing up water.

“You did it.”

“No dear, you did. though you’ll still have to pay me,” she winks.

“Y/n?” Jungkook holds your hand, gripping it tightly to ground you.

You wipe the water off your face. Jungkook catches your eyes, holding your face to make sure he saw correctly-

You smile, falling into his arms.

---

“There you are.”

You catch your breath, leaning against a tree. “And who are you?”

An auburn haired man you noticed was one of the men holding back Jungkook steps out of the shadows. His body was beaten up, his hair wild, cuts and scratches across his face.

“Jungkook really beat you up.”

“You’re quite the nuisance,” he licks his lips, red eyes glowing in the moonlight.

You caught another pair of red eyes from a silver haired man, moving languidly in the shadows, his eyes glowing in the blackness of the night. One more, there should be at least one more, you think.

You expected it to be Seokjin, the leader, but you see blonde hair instead, frowning. It’s okay, it doesn’t matter, you have faith that Jungkook can handle himself.

“You don’t have to do this, you don’t have to follow Seokjin.” You push off the tree’s trunk, moving into the open space. The group encircles you.

“But we want to see for ourselves what makes our Jungkook so-”

“-Possessive.”

“-Why is he keeping you?”

“-Why won’t he share?”

“-Show us that trick of yours.”

“-What makes you so special?”

They spoke together, dizzying you with words.

It was easy for a woman in this situation to fall victim to men, but you had the kind of power that made them hesitate, waiting for you to move first.

“Haven’t you ever felt someone love you?”

Met with silence you can only softly laugh. “I guess not...that makes me sad for you. If you survive tonight, you should try...”

The trio stares daggers into you, red eyes glowing, their menacing presence piercing through you.

You heave a low sigh, looking up towards the waning moon, thinking of Jungkook.

You guess now, you looked the same kind of menacing, though you did not feel it.

Under the moonlight you just felt...

Serene.

And ready.

---

You watch Jungkook curl weights in your living room, your laundry only half folded, his heavy grunting and muscles flexing proving to be too much of a welcome distraction. He has taken the witch’s advice wholeheartedly, training his already strong body.

“Can you help me?” he asks, wiping off his face with a towel.

You blink, “Y-Yeah, what did you want me to...”

Jungkook lays on his stomach, “Come here,” he says as he moves in a push up position. “Now concentrate,” he laughs as you settle over him, your arms holding tightly around his chest. “You’re already being...distracting,” he grunts, smiling.

You can’t help but giggle, impressed by his effortless pace. You were having too much fun, cuddling against Jungkook’s muscular back as he lifted himself and you up and down.

“Do you think that, um, after we do this,” Jungkook grunts, “after we stop them, you think Miss Manyo will be able to turn me into a human?” Jungkook asks you.

“Oh, I-I don’t know, I can ask her if there is a spell like that?” you hesitate. “Is that what you really want?”

Jungkook lifts you up and back down, “Yes.”

You hum, “Jungkook...You don’t have to change yourself, I love you just how you are.”

Jungkook stays silent, his mind already made up. Up and down you go. “Okay, if it makes you happy, I just want you to believe in yourself, I believe in you.”

“I love you.” He grunts, moving faster and you giggle, hugging him close.

---

Jungkook can no longer see you or hear you. Good, you’re far away now. He transforms.

Three wolves find him. Hoseok, whose human form took the worst of Jungkook’s attack, growls louder, his wolf form bleeding profusely, staining the grass underneath his paws red.

Their leader is fuming, barking and spitting, ready to show the youngest why the others bow their heads to him instead, why no one challenges him, what a lovesick fool the youngest was being. Even on that fateful night, if you hadn't interfered, Jungkook would have been beaten, broken, had submitted as he should.

And tonight, you’re not going to interfere this time.

He sent Namjoon and Yoongi to deal with you. The oldest and stronger members of the pack. He would have sent Hoseok, but due to his injury the second youngest, Taehyung volunteered. With still two more nights before the full moon, Seokjin was confident those three could handle you.

The leader barks obscenities, ‘Foolish traitor.’ Lunging forward, his teeth sinking into Jungkook’s body as he starts his attack. Jungkook bites back, and Hoseok and Jimin attack, the loyal wolves tearing into his body. Jungkook whips his head around, catching Jimin’s nape, flinging the wolf away, using the advantage of his massive size.

It was a test of not only strength, but endurance. How much pain could Jungkook endure, how many attacks could his body withstand. It was vicious how they bombarded Jungkook with attack after attack, showed him no mercy for his betrayal.

Hoseok fell first, his injuries overtaking him. Jimin fell next, and it was only the leader and Jungkook left standing, their fur soaked in blood. Most of it Jungkook’s blood.

Jungkook transformed back into a human, panting, doubled over and still on all fours, fallen to his knees. “Give up, this is your last chance,” he pants, weak and tired, issuing a very unconvincing threat.

The beast bares his teeth, stalking closer.

The beast’s mouth unhinges.

Jungkook digs his hands into the ground, grinding his teeth, pain overwhelming him.

Seokjin aims his fangs at Jungkook’s head.

Finding what he dropped earlier, Jungkook pulls out a small silver instrument from the earth. It was not sharp, it was not deadly. It was a tool humans used not for killing or even hunting.

Jungkook stabs the prongs of a tiny silver fork right into the roof his leader’s open mouth.

And then takes a butter knife, stabbing the beast’s open wound.

Seokjin howls.

Taking the opportunity, Jungkook runs to find you, abandoning his wounded leader.

---

You run, searching for Jungkook. You could smell him close, your senses so heightened you could smell his scent mixed with a revoltingly overwhelming amount of blood. You ran faster, tracking his scent, worried for him, clawing through branch and even through trunks until you crashed into a body.

Fingers wrapped around your throat, blood dripping over his hands and onto your neck. “Now, you die,” Seokjin says. He looks delirious, maddened.

You nails pierce into the leader’s forearms as you growl back.

Seokjin roars, taking the knife still lodged in his shoulder, yanking it out. The handle burns his palm, but he doesn’t let go, too full of rage to care, pressing it against your chest, using all his weight.

You’re stronger.

You knock him backward, pouncing on him instead.

“Have you ever killed anyone, pet?” he grunts, wheezing in laughter. “But Jungkook on the other hand, he could tell you all about that.”

“Stop, you’ve lost, give up.”

“Kill me now because I’ll never stop,” he hisses. “but you’re making a mistake. Do you enjoy your life locked up in that building? To go work in a different building, aren’t you bored? Doesn’t it feel suffocating? You could roam the world with us, powerful, unstoppable.” Seokjin looks up at you smirking. Plus, where you went, Jungkook would follow, he was certain of that.

Seokjin is right, and he’ll never stop. You lessen your hold on the leader, leaning away. “Y/n, get away from him!” You look up, seeing Jungkook run towards you.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook.”

Seokjin smiles wickedly at Jungkook, sitting up with you in his lap. “I’m sorry,” you repeat. Jungkook will forgive you.

It was supposed to be for him.

“What did you put on me?”

You move away quickly as Seokjin struggles to pull the necklace off.

But the spell has already been cast, it can’t be removed. The red gem glows.

Jungkook rushes towards your side, helping you to your feet. “I’m sorry, I know you wanted the necklace for yourself.”

---

“What does it do?” you ask.

The old witch laughs quite deviously. “It gives the wearer the ability to trap his beast. It’s what you wanted, right dear?”

---

Seokjin stands up, wincing in pain, his legs weak and stiff. He yanks on the gold chain, inspecting the gem.

“What did you do?!” Two red eyes look back at him in the swirling gem, an echo of a howl resounds in Seokjin’s soul. “You think this will hold me forever!?” he growls in disbelief.

“You better learn how to defend yourself in your human form, Seokjin,” Jungkook says, leaning against you for support.

“Or do you believe your brothers will still obey a weak human?” you say, holding tightly onto Jungkook.

Barking at his back, five beaten and broken beasts pace around. Seokjin couldn’t understand them, gritting his teeth, searching for power he did not possess anymore.

They were without a leader, they were hurt, and they were angry he led them down this path.

Jungkook looks at the remaining wolves. “Does anyone still want to fight us?”

You hold hands, united, a stronger pack than they ever were.

-🌘-

Jungkook sneezes. You giggle.

You and Jungkook are having a picnic, enjoying the park in the daytime together. He pounces on you, hugging you close, rolling across your picnic blanket.

“Is he going to stay there all day?” You tilt your head back, looking far, far...far into the distance, eyes zoning onto the very spot an inconspicuous (yet very conspicuous to yours and Jungkook’s senses) human man hides behind a tree’s trunk.

Seokjin peeks his head out, and noticing your attention in his direction, he quickly hides again.

“Probably?” Jungkook says, kissing your cheek. He nips at your neck, his full attention back onto you.

You look up at the sky, sighing softly. You could still see the large skyscrapers of the city still around you. You close your eyes, enjoying Jungkook’s sweet attention, smiling.

Seokjin was right about one thing, you did not feel like the city was for you anymore.

---

Let me know what you think, can you guess who leads the wolves now? :P What do you want to see in part three for summer?

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts hybrid smut #bts hybrid au #bts hybrid fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #bts werewolf au #werewolf jungkook #jungkook x y/n #bts fantasy au #jungkook x you

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