#come on I KNOW some people read m/m AND f/f

[lowkeychenle]

Some Things Can't Be Taught [ZCL] (M)

Description: In which you are failing college physics, and your childhood best friend offers up one of his friends as your tutor—except, there’s a little something he wants to learn from you in exchange.

Genre: Smut/Fluff/Angst in some spots

Content Warnings: explicit, protected sex; awkward Chenle; reader is more experienced (Chenle is a virgin); reader and Chenle ridicule each other; use of pet name ‘baby’ (Chenle isn’t creative yet); oral sex (f & m receiving); alcohol consumption; explicit unprotected sex (reader on unnamed birth control lol); Chenle is somewhat of a fast learner

Word Count: 23,775

Taglist: @lostinneocity @dinosaurtoothbrushwithninjasauce @niinjo @once4sunrise @amyjipark @buns-inhiding @ti--red @defzcl @theboyz-jacob

Permanent Taglist: @sunnybutcloudy @neozon3nha @waffleuvs

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x fem!reader (features Dreamies, aespa Karina & Giselle)

Juliet's Masterlist | Tell me what you think? :)

“Come on. It’s either this or you’re gonna fail.” Your best friend, Jisung, crosses his arms over his chest. “You need help, and I already asked him for you. He said yes, so you’ll have to suck it up.”

“Ji, I’ve never even met him before. He’s a complete stranger to me, and I don’t really care all that much if I fail.”

“(Y/N), it’s the first semester of college. You need to try a little harder or you’re gonna start failing everything,” Jisung scolds you.

His front door opens, and both of your gazes go toward the sound. Without even seeing who it is yet, you know exactly what’s happening.

“Park Jisung, did you literally tell him to—”

As soon as Jisung’s friend comes into view, your words die lodged in your throat. You blink a few times to make sure you’re seeing things correctly, and then glare at the man standing next to you. All he does is raise his eyebrows in response, a grin filtering onto his face.

“Who knows,” Jisung whispers, nudging your arm. “Maybe you’ll get more than a tutor.”

“Ew, Sungs, the last thing I need is you trying to find me dick. Please never say that again.”

Jisung’s friend is simply unlike any other man you’ve ever seen. He enters the kitchen, and despite running his fingers through his hair and sighing, he sends you a gentle smile before looking at Jisung.

“This is the girl who needs physics help?”

“And maybe physical edu—” Jisung wheezes as you backhand him in the stomach, nearly keeling him over. His friend bites back a laugh before returning his attention to you.

“Yes, I need help with physics. The class.”

“Is there any other kind of physics?”

You can’t get a read on him. Not really. His hair is neat, not a single strand out of place, and he’s wearing jeans with a button-down tucked into them. Glasses are perched on the bridge of his nose, and he’s carrying two fairly large textbooks.

An instance of silence takes over the room, but both you and this other guy are at a complete loss on what to do next. And for some reason, you can’t stop looking at him. It must be because your analysis isn’t working. He intrigues you, but only in the sense that it’s rare for you to be unable to see into people’s souls.

“(Y/N), this is Chenle, Chenle, this is (Y/N).” Jisung gestures between the two of you once he finally catches his breath.

“Hi, Chenle. Great to meet you. Jisung, can I talk to you for a few minutes? Over there?” You violently point in the opposite direction, but send a somewhat small smile over to Chenle. “Sorry, we’ll just be a second.”

He nods and sets his textbooks down on the counter. You pull Jisung by his wrist.

“What’s going on?” he asks. “I’m doing you a favor.”

“Now, I know you’ve got like, six girls in your phone you could’ve asked to help me with physics. Why him?” You cross your arms over your chest.

“Okay, look. Hear me out all the way first before you punch me.” Jisung sighs and shifts on his feet. “Chenle is literally the smartest person I know. Yes, including you. And he’s really nice, too, and I think you’d…I don’t know, like him eventually if you gave him the chance. You haven’t really done that recently.”

“Sure, but I like being single, Sungs. If I wanted someone, I would’ve asked.”

“You can just let him tutor you then. I know both of you pretty well, alright? I think you two could be good for each other. By all means, don’t date him or try to date him. But for the love of God, let him tutor you. He’s gonna do it for free, and you fucking need it.”

You roll your eyes, but he’s right. There’s no denying it. Letting out a sigh, you finally agree, “Fine. I’ll let him tutor me.”

What you told Jisung wasn’t a lie—you did like being single. And part of keeping yourself single (and happy) has been avoiding any men who might change one or both of those things. You’d never met Chenle before today, but the second you saw him, you knew. He had the potential to ruin your life…if you let him.

So, no dating. But you’ll take tutoring, because if you face the facts, Jisung is right. The last thing you need to do is fail a college course.

You and Jisung walk back over to Chenle. He’d made himself busy with getting a water bottle out of the fridge. Once he tilts it back, you almost curse yourself for your reaction—why the fuck are you watching him swallow it? Imagining the liquid roll down his throat and—

“Well, she said she’d greatly appreciate your tutoring, Chenle.” Jisung sends a bright grin over to his friend. “And she happens to live right next door. I have a…friend coming over, so if you two wanna get started, I’ll be here.”

Jisung wants you dead, apparently.

Chenle’s cheeks get a slight pink hue to them. “Oh, I didn’t—you won’t be there, too?”

“The hell do I need physics help for? I’m a dance major.” Jisung shrugs. “You kids have fun.”

“I’m older than you.” Chenle narrows his eyes.

“Yeah, me too.” You cross your arms over your chest and glare at your friend.

“Besides the point. Now, you two go. I’ve got plans today.”

“I hope you know I’m gonna kill you. Bring a stranger into my house with no warning, what if it’s messy in there?”

“Maybe you should keep your place clean.” Jisung shrugs.

You sigh and face your new tutor. “Is that okay with you? We can reschedule for a different day if that works better for you.”

“No, no.” Chenle shakes his head. “We’re good. I guess I wasn’t expecting to—it doesn’t matter. Let’s go?”

His books are back under his arm, and he uses his other hand to tell you to go to the door first. You send one last glare at Jisung before you leave his apartment with Chenle in tow. You’ve met him all of three seconds, and now you’re bringing him into your house. Great.

“You go to the same school as Ji?” you ask as you step inside your own place.

He runs his fingers through his hair again but nods. “Yeah, but I met him over the summer. At—”

“You go to Jeju for the summer, too?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Not usually.”

“I didn’t see you there,” you say, and instantly, your face heats up. “Not that it’s weird, just an observation. I was only there for like, a week, and I would’ve remembered seeing you—”

You cut yourself off, scratching your forehead. He chuckles, the corner of his lips pulling upward slightly.

“I was only there for the last week Jisung was.” He pushes his glasses up and follows you into your kitchen. “He’s pretty cool.”

You snort. “He’s alright. I’ve known him my whole life, unfortunately.”

“Your parents are friends?”

“Best friends,” you tell him. “Not that anything has ever—or will ever happen between us. I legitimately want to knock him out. Maybe put him in a chokehold.”

“I was kinda surprised he didn’t have us stay over there,” Chenle mentions. “I thought he’d give us a little bit more of an introduction.”

“Ah, him bringing a friend over means he’s about to get laid, actually,” you say, going into your fridge to grab some snacks. “Don’t worry, we won’t hear anything. His room’s not against this wall.”

His eyes widen, and he blinks incredulously at you. “Are you serious?”

“Mhm.” You set the strawberries and the watermelon down on the counter and open the lids. “Surprised you didn’t pick up on that. Thought it was some guy-code talk.”

“I…” He pauses, scratching his forehead. “Maybe? I don’t really know.”

“Want some?” You slide the fruit over to him, and you almost laugh when you see how he seems to be floundering for words.

“Sure. Did…What did you want to study today?”

“To be honest, I don’t really want to at all.” You pop one of the strawberries in your mouth. “It might be better for us to get to know each other first. Because right now, you’re a strange man in my apartment. And I’m not very fond of strange men.”

Your satisfaction grows when the pink returns to his cheeks.

“Right, sorry. I’m Zhong Chenle, but I think Jisung told you that already. I’m a physics major, actually, and not to brag or anything, but I’m the top of my class. And I also…also really like music. Singing and writing it.” He purses his lips, and after a few moments, decides he’ll take you up on the offer of snacks.

“You’re insane for being a physics major, just so you know.” You lean forward on your counter, clasping your hands together. “Music is cool.”

His gaze dances all over your figure, but he hides it somewhat well. You barely notice.

“You?”

“Oh, I’m not all that interesting.” You chuckle. “I haven’t declared my major yet. Not really sure what I want to do.”

“I mean, I’m not sure what I’ll do with physics. I’ll probably have to get a Masters if I want to be anything useful.” His tongue darts out to wet his lips. He rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet, and you find the awkwardness of all of it…endearing, maybe. You’ll keep going a bit longer.

“I see.” Intentionally being awkward is your forte. You’ll see how much he can handle. How much he’ll give back.

“We should at least do one chapter today,” he says after almost an entire minute of silence. “I told Jisung I would help. And if you push it back, there’s no guarantee you’ll do it.”

“Hm. Jisung is the only reason you want to tutor me?” You can’t help the smirk on your face. Nor can you ignore the way his face hasn’t lost the pink since he stepped foot in your apartment.

“I—I mean, yeah. No. Originally, yeah. He asked me to h—” he cuts himself off, a scoff escaping his lips. “I’m trying to be nice. I honestly don’t have a whole lot of friends outside of Jisung, either, so I guess he thought we could be good together. As friends, of course.”

Oh, let the games begin. This man wants to be your friend, and here you are, eyeing him up and down like he’s your next meal. Getting him flustered has all but unlocked a new portion of you you had no idea existed. Every guy you’ve ever dated has been your stereotypical jock, and certainly, none of them would’ve ever been able to tutor you. But the lack of confidence on Chenle’s part should be studied—how does he look like that and have no confidence? It astounds you.

“Of course,” you agree, biting into a piece of watermelon. “Fine. One chapter, but then you have to come with me to a party tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow’s Tuesday.”

“Yeah, and?”

“We have school on Wednesday.” He blinks at you, pure confusion behind those pretty brown eyes.

“Chenle,” you deadpan. “Letting loose for one night won’t ruin your GPA. I wouldn’t let you drink enough to be hung over.”

“I’ve never been drunk before.” He clears his throat. “Or been to a party. That sounds like a bad idea.”

“And if I promise to stay with you the whole night? I promise, parties are fun. And Jisung will be there. We won’t let anything happen to you.” You stand up straight and cross your arms over your chest. “Not to mention parties are a great place to make friends.”

“I’m not…great at that.”

“Oh, come on.” You glare at him. “I let you tutor me in physics—”

“Let me?”

“Yes, let. And I’ll tutor you on how to make friends. How to get out of your shell a little bit. I can’t pay you money for school help, so let me do this. It’s a good exchange.”

“I literally didn’t ask for anything in exchange, though.”

“It’ll make me feel better.”

He presses his lips into a thin line. “Fine. But if I really don’t want to do something, you can’t make me.”

“Dear God, obviously.” You scrunch your nose up. “Fear not, Chenle, I find consent sexy.”

His lips part, but you’re pretty sure you see him gulp. You put the lids back on the containers and set them back in the fridge, sending a smile his way once you’ve let him flounder enough.

“First step of making friends, be confident.” You point at him. “You’re pretty nice to look at. Get rid of the awkwardness and you’ll have people all over you.”

“Oh, great.” Sarcasm twinges in his tone. “What is this? One of those makeover projects?”

“No, of course not. I’m not changing anything about you. I never understood why they always take the glasses off in those movies. They suit you.” You shrug and walk over to him to look at the books he has.

Your arm brushes his, and he blinks at you. When he doesn’t move away, you smirk. At the end of the day, you don’t want to make him uncomfortable…at least not in a bad sense. But teasing him? If it continues to be this easy to fluster him, then you’ll have a great time with it.

“Shall we?”

He nods. “Um, are we studying in here?”

“There’s not really anywhere to sit. We can go in my room.”

“Your—(Y/N), I—”

“Relax, I’m not luring you into a trap, you weirdo. I’ll be on my bed and you can use the desk.” You gesture toward your door. “We’ll even leave it open.”

“You don’t live alone?”

“Nope, my roommate is at class right now. Not too sure when she’ll be back though, she spends a lot of time at her boyfriend’s house.” You walk toward your room, and he follows behind you.

“We’ll have to share the book, though.” He sets it down on the desk.

Seeing him in your room is odd, to say the least. Mostly because you just met him today, but also because he seems to fit. You sit on the edge of your bed, and with the lamp in the corner not quite bright enough to light up the whole area, it casts shadows on his face. He looks even prettier like this, and you suddenly regret bringing him in here.

“And…the light?”

You point to the wall. “There.”

“Alright, sit at the desk. I’ll stand.” He flicks the switch on and watches you closely as you get up to do as he asks.

“Are you sure? I feel bad making you stand.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he reassures you. “We can meet somewhere else next time. Or get another chair.”

And then he puts the book in front of you, opens it to the first chapter, and places his palm flat on it to keep it on that page. You’d attempt to ignore the way his hand looks, but the way the other one is placed behind you on the chair is a much more dangerous thought.

How Jisung knows exactly who would be your type is crazy. You hate him for it.

“Can you do a physics fun fact? Maybe it’ll make my life less miserable.” You look up at him and see the gentle smile on his face.

“Sure. We’ll do one every lesson. Let me think.” He ponders for a moment, pursing his lips. “Diamonds. They’re the hardest natural material on Earth, well, that we know of. But it has the lowest crystal packing fraction, meaning the atoms are the least densely packed.”

“That’s…physics?”

He shrugs. “Sure.”

“Huh. Alright, then. I feel like I should write that down.” You grab a notebook from your drawer and scribble down what he just said.

“You have pretty handwriting,” he mentions, a hum escaping his throat.

Leave it to you to have warmth spreading to your cheeks from a compliment on your handwriting.

“Oh, thanks.” You clear your throat and slide the notebook to the side. “Should we…learn, I guess?”

“Yeah, for sure.”

It takes an hour to get through the first chapter, but Chenle thoroughly explains it in a way that suddenly has you understanding the very basics. As much as you hate to admit it, Jisung was right. Chenle’s a damn good tutor.

“You caught on fast.” He nudges your arm.

“Well, you didn’t explain it like a decrepit old man who speaks at one word per hour.” You chuckle. “You’re easy to listen to.”

“Wow, your poor professor.”

“No, poor me, alright? He also stands with his elbows permanently glued to his sides. He looks like a T-rex.”

He laughs out loud at that one, reaching up to massage his forehead. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I know. Now you know why I suck at physics.”

“You don’t suck at it,” he defends you. “It takes time to learn. And…good teachers.”

It’s at this point that you realize he’ll be leaving. And that you’ve been making him stand for an hour, it’s almost dinner time, and he’s been incredibly kind (and not weird or impatient) the entire duration.

“Um, I’m really sorry about making you stand for so long. Can I buy you dinner? I feel bad for being a little bit of an ass earlier, too.” You push the chair back and climb to your feet. He’s close like this, and you still have to look up slightly to catch his gaze.

“Oh, I’m supposed to go somewhere with Jisung and our other friend, Mark. If you’re okay with it, you should come.” He must be more comfortable with you, too, because he hasn’t made a single move to back away from you.

“To be honest, new people kinda scare me. I have a max amount per day.”

He smiles. “That’s the most relatable thing you’ve said all day. No worries.”

“Rain check, though?”

“For sure. Did you want to set up another session?” he asks. “Whenever works for you, I can make it happen. I have class on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, pretty much until 5pm, but other than that…depending on how much you need, I can do all the weekdays at like, 7pm, but I obviously wouldn’t stay super late. School’s important, and—”

“Seven is great. I’m gonna need a lot of help.” You stick your hands into your pockets. “And tomorrow? You’re still going?”

“A deal’s a deal.” He nods.

“Do you want to meet me here? Jisung’s going, too, so he can drive the three of us.”

“Sounds good.”

“Alright.”

“Yep.”

“Have a good time with your friends.”

“Have a good time…recharging.”

Silence cascades over the two of you once again, and this time, it’s broken by both of you cringing and laughing at yourselves. You walk him to your front door and then find yourself in a similar situation, only now you’re in the hallway of your apartment building.

It’s too awkward to say you want to hang out with him more, but it’s also too awkward to rush him out of the door.

“Oh,” you say, reaching into your pocket for your phone. “Do you want to exchange numbers? That way if there are any changes or something, we can reach each other.”

“For sure.”

You offer it to him with the contacts screen open, and he takes it from you. He quickly types his number in and hands it back to you. You start to say something, and then you notice Jisung out of the corner of your eye. Immediately, you snap your mouth shut and take a large step back from the man in front of you.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He gives you a small smile before walking toward Jisung, and without another moment of hesitation, you close your door and groan to yourself. Jisung will never let you hear the end of this. Good thing Chenle will most likely get a barrage of teasing today, because it might get it out of Jisung’s system by the time he’s around you again.

You’re finishing up your makeup in your bathroom when Jisung stops mid-sentence, perturbed by the knock sounding on the door. With your lip gloss on, you turn to Jisung.

“I need to go change. Can you get that? It’s Chenle.”

“It’s…I’m sorry, did you just say Chenle’s here?”

“Wow, you can hear with those big ass ears. I’m surprised.” You feign shock. “Yes, please let him in. And don’t be weird. It’s not what you think at all, so if you make him awkward, I’ll kill you.”

“What is happening?” he mutters to himself as you close your bedroom door to change.

The party isn’t a huge one, so you planned on going in a more relaxed outfit than you originally thought. You settle for a crop top, jeans, and boots. After you look at yourself in the mirror six times to make sure it looks fine, you leave your room to find Jisung and Chenle have barely made it a few feet inside your apartment.

Jisung’s back is to you, but Chenle faces you. It seems like he stops mid-conversation at the sight of you, and after Jisung turns to you as well, you pretend not to notice the other man’s gaze lingering on you.

“Three years later. Did you cut the shirt yourself?” Jisung grumbles.

“You’re ridiculous. Are you guys ready?”

“Wait, Chenle’s going?” Jisung glances between the two of you. “Like, for real?”

“Obviously. Why else would he be here?”

“You…invited him to a party. And he…said yes.”

“Sorry, Chenle, sometimes I have to repeat things seven times for him to understand me. Can we go?”

Jisung’s at a loss, which makes both you and Chenle chuckle. The car ride to the party is fairly short, but you let Chenle take the front seat, and you sit in the middle in the back. Leaning forward, you rest your elbows on the center console as you talk to the two men.

“You guys are hanging out at this party together?” Jisung asks.

“Now you’re just making it weird,” the other man mentions, pushing his glasses up. “She invited me. I wasn’t gonna say no.”

“I invite you places all the time.”

“Well, Sungs.” You pat his shoulder. “Should I point out the obvious differences? I’m more charismatic than you. And cuter.”

You grin to yourself at the plastering of pink on Chenle’s cheeks, and he averts his gaze out the window to avoid Jisung seeing.

You walk in front of them, essentially leading them into this house. Your friend throws these all the time, and you and Jisung are always on the invite list. Mostly because you’re a package deal at this point, but also because you’re pretty sure your friend has a crush on him.

“I’m gonna get a drink.” You head toward the kitchen, and when you glance back, Chenle is following behind you.

“Jisung found a girl, I think,” he explains. “Is it okay if I—”

“You think I’d leave you by yourself? You don’t even really want to be here. Of course, you can hang out with me.” You pause and wait for him to catch up, and then loop your arm through his.

He’s surprised at first but allows you to guide him through the crowd of people. There are several of your friends in the kitchen—Karina, Jaemin, and Renjun. They all light up at the sight of you, but then immediately catch where you’re attached to Chenle.

“Sorry, there’s more than one new person here for you.” You look back at him quickly. “They’re all nice, don’t worry.”

“I think I’ve met that one,” Chenle says. “Renjun, right?”

You beam at him. “Right. That’s good then.”

Chenle stands next to you on the opposite side of the kitchen island as you animatedly talk to your friends. You introduce him to them, explain how he’s your new tutor (Jisung sponsored), and that you thought it’d be cool for him to hang out with everyone. Your group is immediately welcoming, and soon enough, Jaemin offers to pour you guys each a drink.

You glance at Chenle. “You don’t have to drink if you don’t want to.”

“I never have.” He shrugs. “First time for everything, right?”

“Rum and Coke,” you tell Jaemin. “Go easy on the rum, though. We don’t want to be dragged out of here.”

Once the drinks are poured into the red cups, Jaemin hands them to the two of you. You sip yours, watching Chenle closely as he lifts it to his lips. Just like with that fucking water bottle yesterday, you can’t help but stare as he swallows the liquid, and you know damn well your friends are clocking this whole thing.

“Not bad,” he says.

“There’s barely any alcohol in it,” you tease him. “Did you want to go sit down? Jaemin’s selective about who’s allowed in the living room, so the couch will be open.”

“Selective?”

“Well, one time, this random couple hooked up on his old couch. Like, in front of everyone. It was crazy. But he also replaced that couch, so no need to worry about it being gross.” You laugh as Chenle’s jaw drops.

“People just…do that at parties?”

“Not typically in the middle of the party, but sometimes, yeah. But that doesn’t mean you have to, so don’t freak out.” You grab his wrist and lead him toward the couch, glad to see that the only other people in there are Jeno, Giselle, Jisung, and a girl you don’t recognize sitting on his lap.

“This is already a lot better,” Chenle murmurs, his breath brushing your ear as he leans down to tell you.

“Good,” you reply.

“Well, well, well.” Jisung clicks his tongue. “You were supposed to be a good influence on her, not let her poorly influence you.”

“There’s like, half a shot of rum in there.” You sneer at your best friend. 

“Whatever. Plan is working.”

You flip him off, and then you and Chenle take a seat opposite of everyone. He keeps a respectful distance from you and holds his cup with both hands, nervously glancing around.

“Don’t tell me you put Chenle in (Y/N)’s line of fire,” Giselle teases, grinning widely.

“You guys are gonna make him think I’m weird,” you complain. You touch Chenle’s arm. “I’m not evil, they’re just assholes.”

“I’m inclined to believe you, I think.” He shrugs. Attempting to hide the humorous gleam in his eyes, he takes another sip of his drink.

The night passes by somewhat quickly, and eventually, the whole group is in the living room, meaning no one is really paying attention to you and Chenle anymore. You’ve had enough to start feeling a buzz, and the way the pink on Chenle’s cheeks has become permanent tells you he might be a bit past that part himself.

“Maybe we should get some water,” you whisper to him. “Are you okay?”

He nods, and when he looks at you, you almost recoil at how close it makes you. Resting his head back on the cushion, he takes a deep breath. “This is nice. I’m not really stressed about anything right now.”

“Yeah, it happens like that.” You allow yourself a brief glance over the length of his throat, and the alcohol coursing through you has you wanting more than you’d ever admit out loud.

“Can I tell you a secret?” He lets out a sigh.

“If you want to, sure.” You nod.

“Think you’re really pretty.” He laughs, scrunching up his nose. “And talking to you is cool.”

“Well, if it helps at all, I think you’re pretty, too.” Your heart warms at the sight of him like this. You’ve known him just over twenty-four hours, but you knew he needed this—a way to relax and stop worrying about life. You’re not sure exactly what parts are stressing him out, but he needed to get away from them regardless.

“Thank you for not making that weird.” He scratches his forehead. “Maybe I should drink water.”

“Stay here, I’ll get it for you.” You set your cup down on the coffee table and go back into the kitchen.

As you’re grabbing two water bottles from the fridge, you’re joined by Jisung.

“You’re taking care of him now?”

“Relax. It’s a water bottle.” You shake your head. “It’s not like that.”

“Sure.”

“I’m surprised you came up for air. Breaking away from what’s-her-face must’ve been difficult.” You stop in the doorframe and sigh. “You were right, though. He’ll be a good friend.”

“That’s all I needed.” Jisung grins. “Both of you need more of those.”

“I take it back. We’re gonna fight outside.”

“I’d drop your ass and you know it,” your best friend jokes. “But try if you must.”

You make it back to Chenle, who gratefully accepts the bottle from you. When you sit, you don’t realize how much closer the two of you were from when you first sat down. There’d been a good foot of space between you guys, and now your thigh brushes his.

“Are you tired?” you ask him. “I can take you home.”

“Go…home. Like…with you?” His gaze drags over you, and your eyes widen.

“As in, I drop you off at your home, and then I go to mine.” You put your hand on his knee. “Are you alright?”

“I never told you the physics fun fact of the day.” He points at you. “The screens of smartphones work thanks to the electric charges leaving our fingers. But yours didn’t. ‘Cause you didn’t text me.”

“Did I leave you waiting?” You nudge him.

He nods. “Mhm. It’s not nice.”

“Alright, I’m sorry.” You bite back a smile. Who knew a somewhat tipsy man could be so fucking cute? “I’ll text you right now.”

You grab your phone and send him a message. It vibrates in his pocket.

“Oh, hold on. I think someone just texted me.” He grabs it and checks it, and then grins widely. “It was you.”

“It was me, yes.” You wave Jisung down, waiting until he’s close enough to hear you. “Can you take him home? It’s best if he’s done for tonight.”

“You’re staying?”

“For now, yeah. I had too much to drive him.”

“Sure. Is he coherent?” Jisung glances at the other man. “Hangover bets?”

“He won’t be hung over. He had like three drinks with barely any alcohol. Don’t tease him. Be nice and take him home. Make sure he actually makes it to his bed, okay?”

“Jeez, what are you, his mom?”

“My mom’s at home right now,” Chenle mutters.

“Yeah, I’ll make sure he’s okay.”

The next morning, you didn’t receive a message from Chenle. You were curious as to how he was feeling and if he’d been okay all night. And you thought about messaging him closer to seven when he was supposed to show up, but you decided not to. If he didn’t come at the scheduled time, you could do it then.

But he did.

He showed up with his textbooks in hand, and an apology for his actions on the tip of his tongue. You quickly brushed it under the rug—if anyone knows anything about drunk thoughts, it’s you. All discussion of the night before was done after that, and the two of you simply continued your tutoring.

Weeks later, it was 7:30pm on a Thursday, and you were sitting on your bed, your back against the wall and your arm pressed against Chenle’s. The physics book was open across both laps, and his soft voice guided you through whichever lesson you were on now.

“So, the universe is still growing?” you ask.

“Oh, yeah. Every second it’s expanding. It has been for billions of years and will continue on for another billion years after we’re gone.” His eyes widen as he shifts to get a better look at you. “Think about it. All those stars out there, the planets. We’re still discovering new ones almost every new place we unlock. This is my favorite part of physics—learning why everything is the way it is. Real explanations, and not just…talk.”

Those same stars he’s talking about? You’re pretty sure they’re scattered in his gaze, staring right back at you as he allows his passion to shine through.

“Chenle,” you say, pausing briefly. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“You told me before you’ve never dated anyone. Why?”

“Oh.” He clears his throat. “I never really wanted to. I’m focused a lot on my schoolwork and stuff, I figured I wouldn’t have time. So, I just…didn’t. And let’s be honest here, it’s not like I had a whole lot of prospects, anyway.”

You stare at him with a raised brow before he returns the expression.

“What? I’m serious.”

“You’ve got to be joking. Like actually.”

“Come on, all I do is study. I don’t even really talk to anyone, so how would I have had any?” He sits up further and stretches, moving his glasses to rub his eyes.

“Well, now you do talk to people. Anyone you’ve been interested in?”

“I thought we were doing this to make me friends, not find me a girlfriend.” He presses his lips together. “Besides, I don’t have any time. I probably won’t until after I graduate.”

“Dude, you spend pretty much every night with me. That’s why you don’t have time. And being interested in someone doesn’t necessarily mean you have to date them.” You cross your arms over your chest.

“Right, and so what does that interest even do, then?”

“I have to spell this out for you?” You narrow your eyes at him.

“I’m genuinely confused.”

“Hook up with someone. College is important, yeah, but have some fun.”

He laughs. “I don’t want that, either. We both know I don’t have the confidence for something like that, and it doesn’t sound all that appealing. Not that I judge people who do. I’m obviously friends with Jisung. And I genuinely wouldn’t have any clue how to handle that situation.”

“It’s very simple. You approach girl, flirt, make her laugh, dance a little, and then if she’s into you, you take her somewhere—”

“Not what I meant.”

Your jaw drops as realization hits you, and you slap your hand over your mouth. “Oh, my God, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think you’d—and now I’m being an asshole because I—dude.”

“Relax,” he says. “It’s not really a big deal. You didn’t mean anything by it, and if anything, it’s flattering you didn’t think that was a possibility.”

“Dear God, someone delete me from this Earth.” You glance up at the ceiling. “So, obviously, don’t hook up with random people if that’s not how you want to lose it. Is it one of those waiting til marriage things?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Just no opportunities have presented themselves that seemed worth it. In the past.”

“This is embarrassing. For me, not you.” You drop your head in your hands. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

He puts his hand on your shoulder. “You don’t make me uncomfortable. I wouldn’t have told you if that were the case. Let’s just stick to finding me friends for now, alright?”

“Of course, yeah. That makes sense.” You take a deep breath, pausing. “I’m getting hungry. Do you wanna go get some food?”

“Sure, sounds good. I’ll pay this time.”

“No, you won’t.” You poke his chest. “Nice try, though.”

You spring up from your bed, suddenly feeling as if the distance between him and your bedroom needs to be far greater than what it has been. Time to erase the last ten minutes from your memory and hope it doesn’t make absolutely everything weird between the two of you.

Everything was normal until the next Saturday. You don’t usually see Chenle on the weekends unless there’s a party you’re dragging him to. Today, you hoped to relax your brain and take a day for yourself, but the knock at your door decided otherwise.

You open it, and Chenle stands there, looking as if he’s about to be sick to his stomach. Recoiling, you step back to let him in, and he enters without a word.

“Are you okay?” you ask. “You didn’t tell me you were coming.”

“I don’t want to be a virgin anymore.”

You flounder for words, unsure of how to handle this situation. “I thought you wanted a real opportunity—”

“Opportunities are made, aren’t they?” He wets his lips. “How do I…I don’t want to be fucking awful when I do find someone, okay?”

“Chenle, that’s a wild way to think of it. If you want to be with someone you love, and you’re in a relationship long enough to get to that point, the other person should be understanding—”

“It’s not a big deal. Societal constructs or whatever.”

“I…Okay. I’ll help you find someone.” Your brain whirls at the sudden switch, and you shift on your feet. “Are you sure?”

There’s a moment of silence, accompanied with him looking up at the ceiling briefly, as if there are words locked in his throat he desperately wants to let out. He curses under his breath and shakes his head.

“I don’t want someone random.”

“You have someone in mind?”

“This is so fucking embarrassing.” He laughs at himself and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t be weirded out by this. But I need to be with someone I trust, and you…you’re the only girl I trust.”

The shock hits you so hard, you’re almost knocked off balance. You knew Chenle had gotten more comfortable with you, but this stretches a bit beyond that. And before you knew he was a virgin, you wouldn’t have said no to hooking up with him.

“Me.” You gulp. “You want…to have sex with me.”

“Okay, now it’s weird.” His fists clench at his sides and he avoids your gaze. “Forget I came by, okay? I’m sorry that was so weird, we can just never talk about it again, and I’ll keep…being me, and—”

“Slow down, please.” You card your fingers through your hair and try to force the shock away. “I didn’t even respond. Give me like three seconds to wrap my head around it.”

He nods in response, staring down at his feet.

“So, you…you trust me. And because of that, you want me to take your virginity?” You’re still not completely caught up.

“Yeah, it sounded better in my head, I think.”

“Is that the only reason you want me instead of someone else?” you ask.

“What do you mean by that?” He plays with the bottom hem of his T-shirt. “But you’re not—it’s not like that. I trust you. We both know I think you’re pretty. I’ve learned a lot of…things from you, and I thought that maybe we could—”

“You want sex lessons.”

“Can you—My God, please don’t say it like that.” He cringes.

“It’s not weird,” you reassure him. “I didn’t expect this. At all, clearly. Um, I need a little bit of time to think about it.”

“I’m so sorry. I don’t want things to change with us because you’re really a great person, and I…You know I won’t be mad at you or anything if you say no. I get it.”

“I didn’t think you would be.” You pause. “I’ll give you an answer tomorrow. I need to process a little more.”

“Of course. Thank you. Either way.”

More silence.

“Um, did you know that sound waves could heat up cold soup?”

The awkwardness swarming the two of you shatters as you laugh. “You’re ridiculous. Truly the only man I know that’ll proposition sex in one sentence and then move on to fucking physics.”

“Icebreakers. They work wonders.” He shrugs.

If it was possible for your brain to be on one topic for an entire twenty-four hours, that’s exactly what happened to you. When the topic first came up, Chenle seemed like he wanted someone special to share the moment with. Now, he wants to get it out of the way. And he wants your help. If he regrets it, there’s literally nothing you’ll be able to do to change that. And you’d undeniably been attracted to him from the moment you saw him, but that doesn’t mean this was the best way to go about this. He trusts you. He said that with his whole chest, and you’re not sure if that’s the entire reason. So you came up with some stipulations, and if any of them are a no for him, then you won’t do it. You’re about as nervous as he was when he came over to ask you, but you text him and tell him to come over. When he sits next to you on your couch, you fidget with your hands in your lap. You don’t know exactly how to just say it.

“Before I make my decision, there are a few things you’d have to be okay with.” You clear your throat, and you watch realization dawn on his face.

“Okay. What is it?” he asks.

“First, I’m clean and on birth control, so protection is up to you whether or not you want to use it. But it’s a good habit to start, obviously. For when you…eventually hook up with other people, too.”

He gulps. “That makes sense.”

“We don’t tell Jisung.”

“I think he’d kill me if he knew, anyway.” He grips his thighs tightly, fingers digging into the fabric of his jeans.

“If I do something or ask you to do something you don’t want to do, tell me. I would never get mad at you for telling me no, okay?”

“Same would go to you.”

“If you were to ever…find that you’re falling for me, or catching feelings, you have to tell me. And we’ll stop.” You analyze him closely, waiting for any change in his face.

He chews on his bottom lip, but ends up nodding.

“You still have to tutor me in physics. And if things get too awkward and I fail, I’ll kill you.”

That one makes him laugh, and his grip on his legs relaxes. “I won’t let you fail.”

“We’ll still be friends after this?” you inquire. “Like, we’re not gonna do this and then you’ll fall off the face of the Earth or anything?”

“It’s—”

“Don’t tell me it’s impossible. Just answer the question.”

He gives you a soft smile. “I’m not going anywhere. Promise.”

With that, you stand up and hold out your hand. He stares blankly at you, lips slightly open as he tries to figure out what you’re trying to do.

“No better time than the present.”

“Oh, we…you…we’re gonna do this now?” He stands up.

“We don’t have to. Let’s see where it goes.” You grab his hand and tilt your head at him. “If you’re okay with that.”

“It’s just…I’d want to get condoms, and I didn’t bring any because I thought this was going in a completely different direction—”

“I have some.”

“You…” He wets his lips. “Okay, yeah. Let’s, um, see where it goes.”

Chenle allows you to guide him into your room, and then he’s sitting on the edge of your bed. Giving yourself one more mental pep talk, you straddle his lap, not quite sitting all the way down yet. His breath hitches, and his fists clench at his sides.

“Relax,” you whisper. “You know I’ll take care of you. You can touch me.”

He hesitantly lifts his hands up to find your waist, barely gripping you while refusing to break eye contact.

“Have you ever kissed someone before?” you ask, unable to hide how closely you’re staring at his parted lips.

“Not recently,” he responds. “Probably not one that counts.”

“Follow my lead, okay? And you can stop me at any point if you want to.”

You adjust yourself and sink down on his lap. He’s already half hard, the firmness of his length pressing into your core.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “It’s…”

“Don’t apologize.” You chuckle, almost breathlessly. “That’s what’s supposed to happen.”

He scoffs at you, his pointed look does well in breaking the awkward tension between the two of you. You cup his cheek, eyes trailing over his face as you trace his bottom lip with your thumb.

He watches you through a curious, almost hazy gaze. Like he’s admiring you with him like this. Swallowing the rest of your nerves, you lean forward and press your mouth to his. He inhales sharply, his fingers gripping your shirt. The movement is awkward, and he doesn’t reciprocate right away.

“Chenle,” you say. “I said follow my lead. You have to…move your lips a little.”

“Sorry, it’s new—”

“Stop apologizing. There’s nothing wrong with any of it. Just listen and learn.”

He nods, and you return to kiss him. This time, he matches your movements, and that’s when you realize just how fast of a learner he is. You reach up to weave your fingers into his hair. He gasps, pulling away to look at you. Your lip gloss shines on his lips, and you’re certain that a new part of yourself has been unlocked.

“You’re…so pretty.” His voice strains.

“What do you want?” you ask.

“You.” He gulps. “I-if that’s okay.”

“Have you thought about this before?” You trace along his jawline. “Me?”

He sucks in a breath. “I didn’t mean to. At first. And then you…we talked about hooking up with people, and all I could see was you.”

“What kind of thoughts, Chenle?” While all you want to do is keep kissing him, you move your lips down from his jaw to his neck.

“(Y/N), I—”

“If you want to do this, you have to stop being scared of saying the wrong thing,” you hum, and when you find his pulse thrumming beneath your lips, you gently bite down.

“Fuck,” he chokes out. “I-I’ve seen enough porn, okay? I don’t usually think about people I know like that, but I’ve imagined what you’d feel like.”

The desperate twinge to his voice has you wishing you could clench your thighs together. You don’t want to do too much right off the bat, but he’s fully hard beneath you now, pressing directly into your core. Despite your own slight embarrassment, you allow your lips to brush his ear.

“Do you touch yourself to those thoughts?”

His grip tightens again, and his pants nearly turn into whines. “Yes.”

“I think we should slow down,” you tell him. “Don’t wanna overwhelm you.”

He sighs when you lift yourself off his lap. You take your usual spot against the wall and pat the bed next to you, and he joins you without hesitation. When you lean in to kiss him, he quickly reciprocates. You’re surprised by how fast he caught on to the movement, because the kiss is nothing but enjoyable for you.

“Can I touch you?” you ask, tapping your fingers on his upper thigh.

He nods fervently, but quickly pulls you back into a kiss. You smile against his lips before popping the button on his jeans. He curses quietly at the sound of you pulling his zipper down. You push down on them, and he lifts his hips to assist you. Pausing the kiss, you look down at where he strains in his boxers.

“It’s not gonna take very long.” He lets out a weak laugh. “Don’t wanna make a mess.”

“Let me worry about that,” you tell him.

You pull back for a split second to look at his face, finding lust waltzing around in his irises. He either can’t hide it or doesn’t want to, but you have him wrapped around your finger. His lips are swollen from kissing you, and he’s never been more attractive to you. Your thighs clench together, and the warmth between them is undeniable.

“You sure?” you whisper.

He nods, and you go back for another kiss in an attempt to distract him from you pulling at the hem of his boxers. The sound that escapes from his mouth into yours sends a shiver up your spine. God, the things you’d do to him if it wouldn’t melt his brain. You trail your finger up his length, collecting some of the precum from his tip.

He curses but doesn’t break the kiss, his hand now tightly gripping your thigh. His touch sends sparks through you, and you wrap your hand around him.

You stroke him up and down, grinning into the kiss when you feel how he pulses against your palm. He struggles to keep his focus on kissing you the longer you slowly pump his cock. You sink your teeth into his bottom lip, gently tugging it as you rub your thumb across his tip. A long moan escapes his mouth, and his head thuds back against the wall, and within seconds strings of white pump from him.

You catch as much of it as you can in your hand and kiss him again to quiet him down. This exchange is softer, slower than your previous, and he all but melts into you as he attempts to calm his breathing.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I—”

“Don’t apologize.” You slide away from him to grab a towel from your closet. “That was the whole reason I did it.”

You won’t tell him how weak your legs are and how bad you want his hands all over you, considering it’s very likely he wouldn’t know what to do with you anyway. As soon as your hand is cleaned off, you come back to find him zipping and buttoning his pants.

“Can I ask you something?” He chews the inside of his cheek.

“Chenle, my hand was just on your penis. Of course, you can ask me anything.” You chuckle at him.

“Did that…do anything to you? Are you turned on?”

Embarrassment replaces the heat already on your cheeks as you turn to him. “I mean, yeah. But that’s a good thing, obviously.”

“You don’t want me to help you?”

For the thousandth time this weekend, you’re floundering for words in his presence, but you can’t deny how much you do, indeed, want that. You figured he’d not even think about it, leave, and then you could just take care of yourself instead.

“I…”

“If not, that’s okay. But I didn’t want to learn how it felt for just me, you know.” He shifts to the edge of the bed and holds his hand out to you. “C’mon. Show me how to help you. Besides, I definitely owe you now.”

“Okay.” You step toward him and slide your palm on his, gasping when he tugs you into him.

He moves to place your back against the mattress, your head hitting the pillows. Hovering over you, he allows his gaze to travel down to your mouth. You spread your legs to accommodate him, grabbing his hand and placing it on your thigh.

“You could say I’ve…studied this part a little.” He wets his lips. “But I don’t hold too much stock in that stuff being real, so…”

You chuckle. “That’s good. Porn is very unrealistic.”

“How do you want me to do this?” he asks. “Um, I can use my hand or if you want oral, that’s…yeah.”

“Let’s make sure you’re good with your hands first, alright?” You weave your fingers through his hair and rub your thumb against his scalp.

“I want you to feel good, too.” He furrows his eyebrows as if he’s trying to figure something out. When he leans down, he brushes his lips against your jawline, mimicking the way you kissed his neck earlier.

“Chenle,” you whisper, letting your head fall back against the pillow. “Come lay next to me.”

He listens to you quickly, making sure your back is flat against his chest. His arm is snug around your waist as he brushes your hair out of the way to leave wet, open-mouthed kisses along your neck. You skin buzzes everywhere he touches you.

“Don’t be afraid of me, okay?” you tell him. “Foreplay is the most important part of sex for a girl. It’s harder for us to finish, so you’ve gotta…be deliberate.”

“Mhm,” he hums, squeezing your hip.

“You can explore.”

“Show me where.” He most likely meant it to make sure he doesn’t do anything you don’t want him to, but as you place your hand over his to guide him, more warmth spreads between your thighs. You slide him beneath your shirt, slowly moving him over your skin.

“You’re so warm.” He kisses your shoulder. “Soft.”

You stop at your breasts, a soft moan escaping you as you have him squeeze. Your head falls against his chest, and you bite your lip as you move him beneath your bra. He whispers a curse, and you can’t stop yourself from squirming against him.

You move your hand away from his, and he moves to your other breast. His thumb brushes over your nipple, and your eyes nearly roll back into your head. Sure, you told him what to do, but the feeling of his fucking hands on you has your fantasies running wild.

“Was that okay?” he asks.

You nod and tug on his wrist. “Now, when you really start, you have to make sure whoever you’re with is wet. If she’s really wet, it’ll feel better for both of you.”

“How will I know the difference between—”

“Touch me.” You push him toward the apex of your thighs. “That’s what really wet feels like.”

He slides his hand beneath your shorts. “(Y/N), I don’t…I don’t know how—”

“It’s okay,” you say, putting your palm on him again. “I’ll show you.”

He cups your core and gently rubs back and forth. “Doesn’t this ruin your panties?”

“Precisely why I try to take them off as quickly as possible in these situations, smart ass.” You scoff. “Are you sure you want to do this? It’ll get messy.”

“You caught my cum in your hand. It’s the least I can do.” He shifts down a bit and waits for you to look at him so he can kiss you. In the midst of the kiss, you move him beneath your panties. He lets out a shaky sigh when he feels the wetness against his skin.

“Few, um, key things going on here,” you tell him. You position his fingers over your clit. “This is the clit. Don’t ever forget that. It’s arguably the most important thing on my body. In…this case, I mean.”

“Mhm.” His breathing is uneven against your neck, but he listens intently.

You move further down to your entrance. “This is where you’re gonna put those pretty fingers to use, okay?”

“You’re so wet,” he comments, his forehead dropping on your shoulder. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

You pull him back to your clit. “Start here. Don’t be a psycho. Going slow is good until she tells you to hurry the fuck up.”

“Stop saying it like that,” he says, allowing you to move him in whatever way will make you feel good. 

“Like what?” you ask, your hips unintentionally grinding down on his fingertips.

“She. I’m with you right now. Only wanna think about you.” He clicks his tongue. “I got it now.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You move your hand away from his, sighing as he continues his circles. “When you put your fingers in, use your thumb to keep rubbing the clit.”

“Is it normal that I really feel like I might cum in my pants?” He chuckles.

“Considering this is your first time touching a real vagina, yes.”

He slides his fingers inside you, the length of them alone making your eyes roll back. When you moan, he lets out a similar sound, his hips pushing against your ass. You close your eyes, truly not expecting much out of him in the slightest. You’ll probably have to remind him—

His thumb finds your clit as he starts pumping his fingers inside you, and your back arches from the pleasure. You’re desperate to finish from getting him off earlier, and you start to believe he might just get you there.

“If it’s…it’s this tight with my fingers, how does…good fucking God, (Y/N), you’re fucking perfect.” He picks up his speed a little, and you feel that knot tying deep in your stomach.

“Whatever you do, don’t fucking change anything,” you practically whimper the words out, rocking your hips in time with his hand. Your walls clamp down on his fingers, and you let out a loud moan, your nails digging into his wrist as he continues his work between your legs.

Once overstimulation sets in, you close your thighs around him until he gets the hint that you’re done. He gently removes himself from your panties and settles your shorts back in the proper spot. You pant while he kisses your neck.

“I feel like everything makes sense now,” he mutters.

“What do you mean?”

“Why people are so obsessed with sex. I get it.”

“You haven’t even had sex yet.” You chuckle and turn toward him. “Um, you can stay if you want to, but don’t feel like you have to. I know you have class tomorrow.”

“I definitely would, but I for sure came in my pants. So I’ve gotta go home and change.” He pauses and wets his lips. “If you come with me, you could stay at mine.”

“Chenle, that…” you trail off with a sigh. “That sounds like we’d be crossing a friendship line, you know?”

“Oh. Yeah, of course. Don’t even worry about it, I don’t know what’s normal in these situations, so I’ll…just go home. And I’ll see you tomorrow, right? Normal time?” His cheeks are stained pink as he lifts himself off your mattress.

You nod, frowning to yourself—you don’t want him to leave. You want him to lay next to you all night, and no part of that sounds like a good idea.

“Have a good night, Chenle.” You clasp your hands together in your lap.

“You, too.” And then he’s gone, and you fall back against your mattress.

You won’t get him out of your brain any time soon, but at the very least, you hope it’s not going to make everything awkward between the two of you. He wanted lessons, plural, so you can only think that means he’ll want to have real sex. More than once.

You grab your pillow and put it over your face, screaming into it.

This, you fear, is only the beginning.

“Chenle, it’s been two hours. Please put the book down. I can’t think anymore today.” You rest your head back on the wall.

“You’ve got a test coming up,” he mentions as he gives you a pointed look. “If you don’t do well, that’s a direct reflection on me.”

“Mm, no. I think it’s a reflection of me not being able to shove all of this in my brain.” You drop your head in your hands.

He stops for a moment, and then ultimately decides to close the book. “Maybe I should come earlier tomorrow?”

Without another thought, you rest your head on his shoulder and sigh. He tenses for a brief second, but quickly relaxes. Neither of you are quite used to the physical affection aspect, but after last night, you’re not too sure you have to hold back anymore.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“My brain hurts.”

“I’m serious.”

“Me, too,” you reassure him. “If there was something wrong, I’d tell you.”

“C’mere.” He wraps his arm around you and pulls you closer to him, all before resting his head on top of yours.

You shouldn’t enjoy it. In fact, you should be encouraging him to do the exact opposite of this, but, for some reason, you crave his comfort. Your day was unnaturally long, and with a test coming up, you need all of the support you can get.

“I know I’m not Jisung, but you can talk to me about anything, you know.” His voice rumbles quietly, and he reaches up to play with your hair.

“We shouldn’t be this close right now,” you say.

“I know.” He sighs.

Your heart twists in your chest. Both of you are fully aware of what all of this could mean—of the risk you’re taking by opening up a connection like this—but at the same time, neither of you are moving to change it.

“And it’d…be wrong to kiss you, wouldn’t it?” Chenle taps his fingers on your arm. “Because we only do that during…I don’t know, whatever you want to call them. Lessons?”

Fuck, you want to kiss him, too.

“I…I think we make the rules.” You lift your head to lean toward him. “Besides, maybe you could use another lesson. Do you want that?”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” he admits. “But I don’t want you to think that’s all I’m doing here.”

You close the distance, pressing your lips to his. He puts his hand on the back of your head and sighs into your kiss. You shift closer to him. With your full attention on him, you drag you hand down his chest, down, down, down—

Your front door opening sends the two of you flying apart, and you curse under your breath. Chenle gets up from your bed, but not without kissing you one last time. You hate how fucking giddy it makes you feel.

“(Y/N), are you asleep with your lights on?” Jisung’s voice carries from the living room.

“It’s almost 10 o’clock,” Chenle mutters to you.

The two of you walk out together, and Jisung glances between you and Chenle, then down at his phone to look at the time.

“Chenle’s still here.”

“Yeah, we were studying. I have a test on Friday.” You cross your arms over your chest. “I think we fell asleep for a little bit.”

“Huh.”

“I was actually just leaving.” He almost reaches out to touch you, but opts against it and nods at you instead. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You watch Chenle leave, and you know you’re in for a long conversation with Jisung. Rubbing your eyes, you head into your kitchen to get some water, and as soon as you take a sip, of course, Jisung opens his mouth.

“I think he’s a virgin.”

You nearly spit out your water. “What the fuck, Sungs?”

“Just in case you were thinking about doing anything with him.”

“First of all, why would him being a virgin matter? And second of all, why are you even thinking of me thinking about wanting to do something with him?”

Jisung looks you up and down. “You fell asleep, huh?”

“What?”

“Dude, look at you. Your hair’s messy, it looks like you spent an hour biting his lips, be so for real right now.” He scoffs and shakes his head. “Just be gentle with him when you break his heart. I like him.”

“I’m not—Jisung, for the love of God, I don’t plan on banging him.”

“You’re such a liar. I know you too well. But I’ll let you live in your land of delusion.”

When you passed your exam (with flying colors), you hadn’t expected Chenle to show up to your house that weekend. He showed up with Thai food, a bottle of wine, and a smile to rival the entire sky full of stars outside your window.

“You passed.”

“What’s all this for?” You chuckle as you close the door behind him before following him into your kitchen. “It was just a test.”

“Just a test,” he tsks, narrowing his eyes at you. “You’ve been studying for it for weeks.”

“If you’re gonna drink, I’m not letting you drive home,” you say.

He turns to your cabinet and grabs out a couple wine glasses. “Is that okay with you?”

You nod, opening the bag he brought. Somehow, he’d gotten so comfortable here in your apartment that he was aware where you kept things. He knew what kind of Thai food you like, and if you were to taste it right now, you’d be willing to bet he knew the exact spice level you liked. He hasn’t acted weird at all since last weekend, and you’re beginning to wonder if you’re the problem. If the only reason all of these things are ‘weird’ because you’re making them that way. He seems perfectly content living whatever way the two of you have been for months now.

“Are you okay?” he asks as he fills the glasses with red liquid.

“Yeah, of course.” You accept one from him and bring it up to your lips. “Are you—Did you know you know where everything is in my apartment?”

He chuckles and scrunches his nose. “I wouldn’t say I know where everything is. But we study here all the time, so I think it’s natural to learn those things. Plus, I’m a fast learner.”

His words take you right back to last week, to him being in your bed with you, and you know damn well he’s right. Fast learner, indeed.

“I…I didn’t ask if I could do all of this, though.” Realization dawns on him as he takes in everything sprawled out on the counter. “I’m sorry, I should’ve. Honestly, I was just proud of you for passing because you’ve been working so hard. I never would do something with the intention of—”

“You ramble when you’re nervous.” You tilt your head at him.

“Long story short, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you tell him, putting your hand on his. “It’s sweet. I appreciate it, really.”

The two of you share normal, everyday conversation while you eat, and thankfully, the awkwardness fades away. You two easily finish the bottle of wine, and once you’re both done, you’re exhausted.

“You can stay with me,” you tell him. “Unless you’d be more comfortable on the couch.”

He shakes his head and follows you into your bedroom. Considering how much time he spends in there, you expect it to feel more natural to crawl into bed with him. The gentle buzz of the wine in your veins calms you, but when he’s finally next to you and you’re curling into his chest, you fear even that can’t save you from the inherent danger of the situation you’re putting yourself in.

You’ll never forget the look on his face when he first sees you naked. Nor will you forget the power it sent raging through your bloodstream. You’re straddling his lap, your mouth gently working on his as his hands explore over your back.

“Are you sure?” you ask breathlessly. “This isn’t something you can take back, you know.”

“I trust you completely. I want you.” Chenle nods as he drags his nails gently along your bare skin.

You grab the condom wrapper next to you and open it, your heart pounding in your chest as you roll it on him. His breath catches in his throat as you grip him to line him up with your entrance.

“Okay. We’re gonna do this.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He grips your hips to stop you from moving. “Don’t do this if you’re gonna regret it, (Y/N).”

“Like I could ever regret anything I do with you.” Humor laces in your tone, but he seems to understand it’s not a joke.

“Okay,” he whispers, loosening his hold on you.

You sink down slowly so as to not overwhelm him. His lips part and his brows furrow as you take him deeper. You stop to give yourself a second to adjust. The look on his face has shivers running up and down your spine, and all you want to do is move.

“This is…” he trails off, gulping.

“What?” You’re finally completely seated on his lap, gasps escaping you as you fight every urge inside you. “What is this, Lele?”

You’re halfway certain you see his eyes roll.

“I’ve never felt anything like this before,” he mutters and rubs up and down your thigh. “You…fuck, this feels…good.”

“I’m gonna start moving, okay?”

“Please.”

You watch closely as you lift up and slide back down, refusing to let your eyes flutter shut for even a moment. He inhales sharply through his teeth. It’s been a good amount of time since you’ve done this, and something about knowing the man beneath you is Chenle spurs you further.

He bites down hard on his bottom lip, digging his nails into you. “I—I can’t—”

“Don’t hold back for me,” you scold him. “It’s okay to cum first.”

“Too fast.” He shakes his head, his words practically slurred together. “You’re more important.”

“Do you know how unlikely it is that I’ll cum first in, like, the first few times—”

“You arguing is helping a little bit.” His gaze flicks up to the ceiling and then down to where the two of you are connected. “Or not. Fuck.”

“Worry about feeling it first before you think about stamina.” You roll your hips, smirking as he inhales sharply.

“I am…feeling a whole lot of things right now.” He allows his touch to trail down to your ass. When he squeezes, it causes you to lift up, and the friction has his head falling back against the wall with a thud.

“Good God, be careful,” you scold him.

“To be honest, I’m not too worried about this head.” He lets out a breathless laugh. “I’m good. You can move.”

“You can stop me if it’s too much,” you remind him.

He nods, chewing on his bottom lip as he waits for you to continue. You’re almost embarrassed by the sounds of your wetness when you lift up, but seeing him clench his jaw and the slightest eye roll puts you on a little bit of a power trip. You set a steady but slow pace, biting back your own moans so you can pay attention to him. It’s like a whine leaves his mouth every time your walls take him completely.

You pull him back to you so your chest presses against his and you wrap your arms over his shoulders. He leans in to kiss you without hesitation, his lips slotting against yours perfectly. You swipe your tongue along his bottom lip, and his moan allows you entrance. That sound turns into a whine, and you know he’s close. He desperately reaches between the two of you, his thumb swiping over your clit. The shock from the move has your back arching, and your walls squeeze around his cock.

His hips jolt up, slamming his tip deep inside you as his face contorts in pleasure. With his nails digging into your thighs, he pants, chest heaving.

“God damn it,” he groans.

“I’ve never seen anyone so upset about cumming.”

“I feel like I’m already behind. The least I can do is be good at it.” He runs his hands down his face. “You didn’t even—”

“This isn’t about me,” you remind him.

He frowns. “Uh, yes it is. I’m literally inside you right now. That means it’s definitely about you, too.”

“Lele, relax. You’ll get better with time.” You press a kiss to his cheek and shakily lift yourself off him.

He catches you off guard by pulling you back, and the next thing you know, your back is against your mattress, and his fingers trace shapes on your thighs.

“Haven’t you learned how competitive I am yet?” He runs his tongue over his teeth. “Can I?”

You’re not a hundred percent sure exactly what he’s referring to, but you nod anyway. When he kisses you, it’s soft and sweet, almost distracting enough to make it hard for you to realize how close his fingers dance to your core.

“One day you’ll cum with me inside you,” he whispers into your mouth. “The fucking lengths I’d go to.”

He wastes no time in sliding two fingers in. Your back arches into him, and you hold the back of his head to keep his lips on yours.  He didn’t lie when he said he was a fast learner—you told him how to make sure you feel good too one time and he fucking ran with it. With his thumb on your clit, he kisses down your neck. You have no idea what’s happening to you, but you’ve never been like this with anyone. Maybe it’s because you trust him, too.

His lips wrap around your nipple and the world comes crashing down around you as pleasure sparks over your skin. You gasp and dig your nails into his skin. When your senses come back, he’s pulling his fingers out of you and moving up to kiss you again, the softness of his movements making you sigh all over again.

“(Y/N), I think I—” he cuts himself off, wetting his lips.

Your heart stops in your chest when you hear his tone, and half of you wants to ask him to continue. The other knows damn well you shouldn’t.

“I…don’t really know what to do with the condom.”

You can’t stop yourself from laughing, but you tell him the proper disposal method. When he comes back, he pulls your comforter back and helps you under it before climbing in next to you.

“Is it okay if I stay?” he asks softly. “If it’s weird, I can go.”

“Don’t.” You shake your head, shuffling closer. “It feels right.”

“Yeah, it does.” His voice is so soft, you barely hear it. He presses his lips to the top of your head, leaving them there for a moment longer than necessary, and then he inhales deeply. You drift off to sleep before you fully feel him exhale.

Despite the obvious, you hadn’t expected Chenle to be completely normal in all other circumstances. He hasn’t touched you excessively in front of other people. When you’re focusing on studying, he doesn’t try to make a move on you. Over the course of two weeks, you’d spent most of those nights with him, teaching him all there is to know about female anatomy.

He didn’t lie about being a fast learner. You find yourself looking forward to the moments where you’re alone with him, where you get to be tangled up in sheets and forget the rest of the world exists.

There have been a few times where he’d gotten you close to finishing first, but much to his frustration, he still couldn’t hold back.

You’d convinced him to go to Jaemin’s party while he was in the middle of kissing your neck. And as a thank you, you’d shown him the wonders of a blowjob. By the time he’s ready for a relationship, you’re sure he’ll have nothing to worry about.

Except, you do. Because the thought of him dating someone else after spending this time with you has an unsettling feeling stirring in your stomach.

You ignore it the best way you know how—by talking to someone else you’ll pretend to entertain. Sitting between Jeno and Chenle’s friend Mark, you laugh along to whatever they’re talking about. Truth be told, you have no fucking clue what that may be, but they’re encouraged by you.

Chenle sits across from you, trying his best not to stare. He nurses his drink and talks to Jisung, but his attention is never truly off you. The second Jeno’s hand comes in contact with your thigh, Chenle abruptly stands from his seat and practically stomps out without a word to anyone.

You frown at Jisung, who shrugs. He’s not much help after he’s been drinking. With a sigh, you get up and follow him wherever he may have gone. You see the top of his head as he makes his way toward the door through the crowd.

He makes it outside and down the porch steps before you catch up to him and grab his wrist.

“Let me go.” His voice is colder than you’ve ever heard it.

“What the hell is your problem?” you snap.

He whirls around, eyes wide and full of something you can’t make out. “I get you can still do whatever—whoever—you want, but right in front of me? Do you have any idea how fucking—God, it’s embarrassing.”

“Oh, now you’re embarrassed of me?” You scoff.

“Not for you. For me.” He most likely has no clue he’s shouting, but his breath leaves a frigid cloud in the air. “Am I not good enough for you?”

“Chenle, keep your fucking voice down,” you hiss.

He sucks in a shaky breath. “How? I—I don’t know how to handle any of this. We agreed it doesn’t…mean much, but doesn’t it fucking mean something?”

Your heart trembles in your chest, and you gulp. How do you respond to that? Of course, it means something, but what that is, you’re unsure of. How do you tell him that?

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” he asks, exasperated.

You recoil, frowning as you take him in.

“Go ahead and fuck Jeno, (Y/N). It’s not my business, right? I have no reason to be upset. At the very least, just act like you care about me a little bit, alright? I don’t want to see you…want someone else.”

“I do care,” you say quickly, grabbing his wrist. “It’s not like that, okay?”

“So, what is it?” he breathes out, a short laugh escaping his throat. “Are you tired of teaching me? You want someone who’s better?”

“Stop.”

“What the hell else am I supposed to think? Will I ever be enough for you—”

“I said stop.” You don’t mean to yell, not really, but as soon as the words leave your mouth, you slap a hand over it.

Chenle flinches, realization quickly dawning on his face. “I’m sorry. God, I don’t know what the fuck that was, and it’s definitely not my place to tell you—”

“Just stop,” you say weakly, blinking back the tears welling in your eyes. “Don’t do this to me.”

“Fuck, don’t cry. Please.” He steps forward and wraps his arms around you. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean any of that shit. You don’t owe me anything, okay? We both know that and we both know you’re doing me a fucking favor, so I’m gonna be better, I promise. I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”

“Maybe we should stop.” You wipe at your eyes.

“What? Why?”

“I don’t think you’re being honest with me, Lele.” You sniffle. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“(Y/N), I—I’m drunk, for fuck’s sake. And, yeah, I’m a fucking idiot who tried to…control you and what you do with your body, and that’s so messed up. I’m really sorry for that. But honestly, it’s pride and ego. It felt like I wasn’t…like I don’t give you what you need, so you’ve gotta find it from someone else. That’s all.”

“I wanna go home.”

“Okay, we can go—”

“You need to go home, too.” You look down at your feet. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to stay with me tonight.”

“Don’t do this—”

“It’s one night. You need to respect what I’m asking for.”

He stares at you with wide, concerned eyes.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? I think you should go back in there with Jisung, and he’ll make sure you get home in one piece.”

“(Y/N)...”

“Goodnight, Chenle.”

Being alone in your house makes you regret your decision to send him home. You barely drank at all, so you can’t blame any of your emotions on the alcohol content in your bloodstream. God, how do you describe what the fuck is going on inside you?

Chenle keeps his distance from you for a few days. You and Jisung are splitting some drinks in his apartment when he decides to bring it up, analyzing you for your reaction as he speaks.

“Did something happen with you and Chenle?”

“Why do you think that?” You take a giant sip of your drink, cringing at the taste.

“Don’t do that. I was being nice. I know something happened because I saw you guys argue outside the party, and he’s been a miserable lump for four days now.” Jisung crosses his arms over his chest. “You hurt his feelings.” 

“I don’t want to talk about Chenle.”

“And what if you fail physics, dude?”

“Jisung, fuck physics.” You drop your head into your palms. “I invited you over to drink and not think about the real world. So if you’re going to bring him up, please just go home.”

“Oh.” Jisung pauses, slowly leaning forward until his elbows are braced on his knees. “(Y/N).”

“No, Jisung. No. I just…want peace, okay? I can’t do this right now.” You shake your head.

“Alright.” Jisung stands. “I’ll leave you alone. But we’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

You don’t say a word as he leaves, but you do chug the rest of what’s in your can. Chenle hasn’t so much as texted you. Why would you want to talk about him? Doesn’t Jisung know how royally fucked everything is between the two of you. Instead of going to bed like you should, you sit on your couch and stare up at your ceiling, occasionally pausing to take a sip of the new drink you opened. By the time your door opens again, you think you’re dreaming. You see Chenle in front of you, and in your hazy mind, you want nothing more than to touch his ethereal, angelic face.

“Hey,” he whispers. “Are you okay?”

You groan, sniffling.

“C’mon, you gotta get some sleep.” His words make your head whirl even more.

“Lele?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re real?”

“Yeah, baby, I’m real.” His voice sinks into your skin, and you lean into him immediately.

“Help.” You hold your hands out to him.

He loops his arm around your waist and guides you into your bedroom. “How much did you drink?”

“Not a lot,” you mutter, your words slurring together. “I’ve had more.”

He scoffs. “You’re ridiculous.”

You flop into your bed, and you swear your sheets still smell like him. He should be tangled up with you every night, holding you close to him like you’re the only thing that matters. You should be. The only thing. Chenle hesitates before climbing in next to you.

“I don’t want to stop,” you whisper as his chest settles against your back. “We’re both fucking stupid if we want other people.”

“Sh.” He makes the gesture so softly, you almost miss it. “We’ll talk tomorrow, baby. Get some sleep.”

You wake to lips on your shoulder. Shuffling closer to Chenle, you groan at the brightness of the sun.

“Careful,” he mutters, squeezing his arm around your waist.

“What time is it?”

“Ten.”

“What?” You attempt to shoot up in bed, but you groan and slump back in your spot. “Fuck. Don’t we have class?”

“We had class, yeah.” Chenle tightens his grip around you and traces shapes on your hip. “I didn’t want to leave you alone.”

You remember Chenle telling you he’d never missed a class in his life. How he’d always known how important every single lesson was, and how he’d never miss for something unimportant.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him.

He frowns. “What for?”

“I did it on purpose. Well, not really. But I was trying to distance myself from you because we were…I don’t know, spending a lot of time together. It was fucking weird.”

“Do you not want that?” he asks.

“I do. And it’s weird that I do.” You bury yourself in his chest. “Can we forget everything today? I just want you.”

“Of course,” he whispers. “That sounds perfect.”

His arms wrap around you, a deep hum escaping him as he rests his head on top of yours. You breathe him in. You wonder what it’ll take to get through your own confusion, and if it’s even worth dragging him along with you. His fingertips comb through your hair. And for the first time in weeks, the only movement between the two of you is steady breathing.

A few more days pass, and the two of you haven’t resumed despite agreeing not to stop. You assume he’s too awkward to ask, and he’s awaiting your nudge to tell him it’s okay. But you realized that part of him gaining confidence is about letting him figure it out.

You’re sitting on your couch with his head in your lap, fingers sifting through his hair as the TV plays quietly in front of you. A lot of time spent with him feels oddly domestic. You’ve never let Jisung lay on you like this, so what exactly is the extent of what’s running through your mind?

He shifts on his back, grabbing your hand. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

He sits up and faces you, gaze traveling over you briefly. “Are we…You said you wanted to stop, and then you said you didn’t want to stop. And we never talked about it. So, please don’t think I’m trying to pressure you or anything, but I think it’s worth a conversation.”

“You’re right.” You cross your legs and turn toward him. “What the hell was all of that?”

“I really don’t know. Like, logically, you weren’t doing anything to spite me, but it just…felt like I’d never be good enough. Not just for you but for anyone. It wasn’t fair of me to take that out on you, and you’re obviously more than welcome to do whatever the hell you want with your body.”

“What part of you isn’t good enough?”

He sighs and clasps his hands together. “C’mon, (Y/N), I haven’t been able to make you finish first. And you can say whatever you want, but it’s gotta be frustrating—”

“Chenle.” You shuffle closer to him. “If it were frustrating, do you really think I’d keep going back for more? You still take the time to make sure I’m good, even if it’s not before you, which is more than what a lot of guys can say. Relax.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why that’s immediately where I went when I saw that guy touch you. To be honest, I’ve never…felt anything like that before. And it scared me, so I figured it’d be better to leave.” He picks at the seam of his jeans.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” you ask.

Chenle nods, glancing down at your lips. You give him a small smile before leaning in and pressing your mouth to his. He sighs as if he’s melting into you, and his hand moves to the back of your head.

“I missed this,” he murmurs.

“Me, too,” you admit.

No matter how much you want to, you don’t push further. You wait for him to make that decision. He pulls away briefly as if to analyze you, and then he moves back in with determination. Without a word, you allow him to guide you until your back is against the couch cushions.

You throw your arm around his shoulders and pull him closer. With a gentle roll of his hips, his clothed length presses against you. He kisses down your neck, gently nipping at your skin. Finally, he lifts up to press his lips to your ear.

“You know, people radiate more thermally per volume than the sun.” His hand trails down your body, slipping into your shorts to cup your core over your panties. “And you’ve got me fucking addicted to you, for fuck’s sake.”

“Did you just tell me a physics fact right now?” You quirk an eyebrow at him.

He grins. “Yeah, I did. It felt like it fit the situation.”

“It’s so fucking weird that I found that hot.” And then you pull him back into a kiss while you roll against his hand.

“Oh, good.” He moves your panties aside and slides his fingers along your entrance. “Can I go down on you?”

“Huh?” Your eyes shoot open and you grab his wrist.

“You’ve gone down on me, but I’ve never…” He gulps and nudges your clit with his fingertips. “Do you not want me to?”

“I’m just…shocked.” You let out a shaky breath as he circles you. “That you want to.”

“I want anything that’ll make you feel good.” He pulls at the hem of your panties, only to let them smack back against your skin.

“You know I’m not gonna say no.” You lift your hips to encourage him to undress you.

He smirks and removes his hand from your core. “I like to hear you want me.”

“Can you do me a favor?” You trace along his bottom lip, entranced in the thought of his head between your thighs.

“Anything.”

“Keep the glasses on when you do it.”

He raises an eyebrow, but you’re quickly distracted by the way he tugs your shorts and panties off in one movement. You’re not sure where the determination on his face comes from—or the confidence and knowledge—but he starts by pressing open mouthed kisses around your inner thigh.

“You’re so pretty everywhere,” he mutters, tongue running along your skin.

You let your head drop back against the couch and reach to card your fingers through his hair. He hums into you as he trails closer and closer to your core. You usually try to refrain from squirming too much or letting him know just how fucking needy you are, but the thought of his lips on you is driving you up the fucking wall.

“Lele, don’t tease me,” you whine, shifting so you can see him.

His gaze flicks up, a look within you’ve never seen before. You did something to him, and you’re more than ready to find out. He narrows his eyes slightly as he analyzes you before he dips his head back down. His tongue starts at your entrance, and he flattens it and moves upward until he takes your clit in his mouth.

You gasp, wanting nothing more than to throw your head back, but you refuse—you need to see him. He sucks on your bud and flicks it with his tongue, and you grip his hair.

“I didn’t fucking teach you that,” you say breathlessly, chest heaving.

He pulls away just long enough to say, “Porn isn’t completely useless now, is it?”

You’re dazed already, watching as he pleasures you. He moans against you, and the vibrations course through you. You’re not sure what made you ask him to keep the glasses on, but you’re appreciating it now more than ever—he’s between your legs with his face buried in the very apex of your thighs, and every time you squirm, you feel the thick frames of his glasses.

“Fingers,” you tell him. “Fuck, use your fingers.”

He doesn’t let up, immediately listening and thrusting two inside you. Your back arches as you moan and push him further against you. Everything becomes a blur, and when he curls his fingers just the way you taught him, you’re practically thrashing beneath him.

A strangely masculine scream robs your body of the high you were two seconds away from, and Chenle freezes and lifts himself to cover a bit more of you. Embarrassment floods through your body.

“What the fuck?” Jisung shouts, hands slapped over his eyes. “(Y/N), I sit on that couch!”

“That’s really what you’re worried about?” You scoff and grab the throw blanket from the back. Chenle helps you spread it out so he can safely move away from his spot. You cover him, too, considering the noticeable bulge in his pants.

“You should save all sexual activity for your bedroom—”

“Says the guy who was telling me how he fucked a girl on the kitchen counter,” you shoot back. “We’re covered.”

He drops his hands from his eyes and shivers like this is the worst thing that’s ever happened to him.

“I’m gonna puke. Chenle, wipe your fucking mouth.” Jisung clenches his eyes shut and shakes his head. “What the fuck?”

Chenle’s ears turn pink, and he uses the blanket to remove what’s left of your arousal from his face. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you study him—

“My God, are you gonna eat him alive?” Jisung scolds you. “Right in front of me? I can’t believe you guys didn’t tell me you’re together.”

You and Chenle exchange glances before you both look back at Jisung.

“No. No, no, no.” He drops his head into his hands. “You mean to tell me you’re not?”

“Can we do this later?” you ask.

“What?”

“I agree,” Chenle adds. “You should come back in like an hour. Or two. Because to be honest, I don’t really care if you’re here or not, I’m gonna fuck her.”

Everything inside you heats up again, and you gape at Chenle. Jisung lets out a dramatic scream and slams the door behind him.

“What the hell was that?” You push Chenle’s shoulder.

“The truth,” he says. “I want you so fucking bad right now.”

“Well, you’d better hurry up and put this extra time to good use.” You lean forward and kiss him hard, holding onto the back of his neck. He inhales sharply but wastes no time in reciprocating. With one quick movement, the blanket once covering you is tossed to the floor, and he’s between your legs.

While his mouth works against yours, he almost frantically moves his hands beneath your shirt and only breaks where you’re connected to pull it off. His urgency takes you off-guard, but you can’t deny the thrill running through your veins and the wetness rushing to your core.

You grab at his shirt, and he sits up on his knees to take it off. Practically lunging forward, you unbutton his pants. As soon as his zipper’s down, he grabs your wrist.

“Turn around.”

“Huh?” you ask.

“Turn around,” he repeats. “You know what I want.”

With anyone else, you’d be embarrassed by how much his request turned you on. You flip over and lift yourself to your knees. You arch your back and let your head rest against the couch cushion, and his groan reverberates through your entire being.

His hands grip your ass, nails digging in as he squeezes hard. “Do you have any fucking idea how bad I wanted you to cum on my tongue?”

“Was pretty close.” You push back against him.

“Think he’s listening?” Chenle asks, tapping your hip before flattening his palm over your stomach. “Just a little curious about us, huh?”

His touch burns against you in the best ways, and after being as close as you were, you’re desperate for him to make you finish. You cry out when he puts two fingers on your clit and rubs slow circles. Gripping onto the cushion below you, you rock your hips in rhythm with him.

“You said you’re on birth control, right?” he murmurs, seemingly distracted by the way your arousal coats his skin.

You nod fervently.

“Is…” He pauses, cursing under his breath. “No condom is okay? I can, um, finish inside you?”

Your eyes roll back. “Fuck, of course, you can. I need you right now.”

He shuffles behind you, and you wish you could see what he was doing. His fingers slow, but your whine is cut short when he slides his length against you to collect the wetness.

“A-and there’s…no risk?” He gulps.

“C’mon, you little science nerd, you know there’s always a risk.” You chuckle airly. “That’s part of what makes it fun.”

He hums and removes his fingers from you, grabbing his cock and jerking himself off a few times before lining up with your entrance.

“You’re sure this is okay, baby?” Chenle’s free hand squeezes your ass again.

“For fuck’s sake, Lele, please—” You’re cut off by his tip ever so slowly stretching you to accommodate him. You gasp, immediately pushing back to take more of him. This angle has you seeing stars. Once he bottoms out, he lets out a long moan.

“So good,” he whines, just barely rocking his hips. “You’re so fucking good.”

He reaches around you again to circle your clit, and then he starts to thrust. Your eyes roll and your body melts, everything around you becoming blurry as he sets a steady pace that has your toes curling.

You attempt to assist him, every time he’s entering you, you push back to take him harder. One hand grips your hip, and the other frantically works between your legs. You can’t even think straight, moans pouring out in unison with his. A knot starts to form in your stomach, and you attempt to shut your thighs.

“‘M close.” You gasp, legs beginning to shake. “Fuck, ‘m gonna—”

You let out your loudest moan yet as you spasm around him, overwhelmed from the pleasure. Sensitivity sets in quickly, but you need him to cum inside you. He lets out a high pitched noise, and the next thing you know, he’s pressing his hips against you, burying himself as deep as he can to fill you with his load.

Both of you pant, unable to move for a moment. Once he regains some of his composure, he slowly pulls out of you, sighing at the feeling. He turns you on your back and kisses you slow, his lips working to part yours as he slides his tongue in.

You smile, unable to hold it back when you think of how much he’s learned in such a short period of time.

“You did it,” you tease him.

“That was the best fucking feeling in the world,” he tells you. “I’m never cumming first again.”

You laugh and push at his shoulder. “That’s not really something you get to just manifest into the universe.”

“Maybe not.” He shrugs, sheepishly grinning at you. “You want new clothes?”

“It’d be really great if you could grab me a towel, actually.”

“A towel?” He frowns.

“You see, Lele, when you fuck raw, messes occur.” You chuckle. “That’s a good thought for the future. Aftercare includes towels.”

“The future?” He quirks an eyebrow.

“I just meant—” Your face heats up. “Like, whoever you end up with. It’s important.”

“Right.” The playful gleam on his face fades, and as he leans back to get up and retrieve what you need, he stops to stare at the apex of your thighs. “It comes out.”

You slap a hand over your mouth to stop the abrupt laugh. “Yes, it does. What did you think happened? It magically gets absorbed into vagina land?”

“Well…yeah.” He shrugs, wetting his lips. “But this is so much hotter. I might get hard again.”

“You psycho, go get a towel.” You push at him, and he bursts into laughter as he tucks himself back in his boxers and jeans before heading toward your bathroom.

When he comes back, he helps you clean up. His touch is tender, gentle, and it makes you want to wrap him up in your blankets and stay in your bed all day with him. He grabs the throw blanket from the floor, lays down on top of you, and rests his head on your chest. You hum in content and run your fingers through his hair.

You’re not sure how long the two of you stay like that, but you find yourself drifting off to sleep. Just before you do, a phone vibrates on the coffee table. Chenle groans.

“Who’s is it?” you ask.

He lifts his head to look. “Mine. The one time it actually rings—should I just ignore it?”

“No, it’s okay.” You sigh and rub your eyes. “Answer.”

He kisses your forehead before getting up. After he has the blanket on you again, he reaches for his phone and answers it.

“Yeah?”

As soon as the other person speaks, he tenses and sits straight up.

“That was today? Are you still there? I’m so sorry, I can be there in fifteen minutes if that works.” He pauses and massages his forehead. “Yeah, I understand. It won’t happen again.”

After a few more moments of listening, Chenle hangs up the phone. He curses and reaches down to grab his shirt from the floor. When he turns to you, you’re watching him with a concerned look on your face.

“One of my professors assigned a group project, and we were supposed to present today. Like…twenty minutes ago. It’s literally twenty percent of my fucking grade.” Despite his anxious energy, he gives you a gentle kiss. “I’m so sorry, babe, I’ll come back later, okay?”

You don’t have time to answer, because he grabs his wallet and keys and bolts out the door. Not that you would’ve been able to anyway—shock courses through you at the pet name. Sure, he says things during sex, but the two of you have never…nicknamed each other outside of that.

You sit up in confusion and scratch the top of your head. What the fuck is going on with you and Chenle?

After you shower and get dressed, you go over to Jisung’s. You’re glad Chenle won’t have to sit through this. When you’re on Jisung’s couch with a bowl of popcorn, he begins his in-depth interview.

“You’re not dating?”

“Nope.”

“Then what are you doing?”

“Jisung,” you deadpan. “I think it’s pretty obvious. He’s helping me with physics, and I’m helping him—”

“Did he say you had to—”

“Park Jisung, this is Chenle you’re talking about. You really think he’s capable of something like that?” You put another handful of popcorn in your mouth.

“Fine. Then tell me how it started. I can’t believe you’ve kept this from me. Your best friend. I tell you when I hook up with people.” He frowns at you.

“Well, one day, we were doing physics homework.”

“Wow, so sexy.”

“Shut up.” You send a glare his way. “Anyway, he was telling me about the ever-expanding universe or whatever, and…like, when he gets super passionate about something, he’s attractive. Like more than usual, you know? So, I asked him why he hadn’t ever dated anyone before.”

“And then you banged him?” Jisung purses his lips. “That’s…well, to be fair, I kind of expected that portion of it.”

You flip him off. “No, that’s not how it happened. Just listen, would you?”

“Fine, fine.” He holds his hands up in mock surrender.

“He said he didn’t have any prospects so obviously I was like…be for real, dude. He’s…attractive, you know? And then he said he was busy, and then I asked what about hooking up with people? Because you can still hook up and not date.”

“That kinda sounds like he was making excuses for not wanting to date.”

“Yeah, maybe. But he was also a virgin.”

“What?” Jisung’s jaw drops, and he drags his hands down his face. “(Y/N), are you insane? He’s probably unhealthily obsessed with you—”

“He showed up the next day and asked me to…teach him how to have sex. And I’d been dickless for…shit, months at least, so of course, I said yes.” You purse your lips and stare down at your lap. “He’s still learning.”

“When was this?”

“Um…” you hesitate, fidgeting with your fingers. “Remember that party where you said you saw us all angry and stuff?”

“Yeah?”

“Like, a few weeks before that.”

“Holy fucking shit, (Y/N), you’ve been fucking him for that long?” Your best friend lets out an exasperated sigh. “You realize he’s in love with you, right?”

Your head shoots up and you stare at the man on the couch. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m sorry, but no dude like him is gonna be able to stop himself from falling in love with a girl he’s been fucking for months. Guys are really oddly attached to their firsts, you know. And that reaction at the party. He’s been missing classes. It’s like you’ve taken over his whole life.”

The rose-colored glasses shatter, and you recall what happened just hours before. He’d missed the presentation of his project. Your throat closes in on itself and you slap a hand to your forehead. Sure, you asked him to tell you if he was starting to catch feelings, but you should’ve known better than to think he’d even realize it before it was too late.

“If you don’t even have a smidge of feelings for him, you’ve gotta stop all of this. For his sake.” Jisung moves over to you so he can give you a supportive hug. “You know he deserves someone who will love him.”

“He’s not in love with me,” you say quickly. “I’ll prove it to you. You’ll see at the party this weekend. He’ll pull some random girl.”

“Sure…” he trails off. “We’ll see, I guess.”

You don’t want to stop.

That’s the only thing whirling through your head when Chenle tells you he’s on his way back to you. Your nerves churn until you’re sick to your stomach, but there’s not a damn thing you can do to change it. He’d never tell you if he got feelings for you. You should’ve known better than to expect that from him. After all, you guys spend nearly every day together, and you don’t have sex all of those days. Or learn physics. Sometimes, the two of you just lay on your bed together, your head buried in his neck, legs tangled until you don’t know which ones are yours anymore.

If he doesn’t put up a fight, it means Jisung was wrong. And that also means you don’t have to distance yourself. If he does…

“(Y/N)?” His voice carries from your living room.

“In here,” you call out to him.

Chenle’s footsteps are barely audible as he makes his way over to you. His form takes up the door frame, where he pauses to study you. He lets his backpack fall from his shoulder, and then he’s climbing onto your bed. With a long sigh, he finds his spot next to you and wraps his arm around your middle.

“That bad?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “I just can’t believe I forgot that.”

You pause for a moment, and the two of you are cascaded into a blanket of silence. He must sense the awkwardness in the air, given the way he gulps and his heart rate speeds up. You lean back to get a good view of his face.

“Why did you?” you ask quietly.

“What?”

“Forget. Why did you forget?”

He blinks, lips parting while he searches for something to say. “I…I don’t know. Honestly, I’ve never done something like that before. I’m glad the teacher still let me present, otherwise I would’ve lost my top spot. And I think that’s the only reason why she did.”

“And you were…okay with that?” You recoil.

“At the time, it really freaked me out.” He frowns. “But even if I lost the top spot, I’d still be in the top ten, so…(Y/N)?”

You roll away from him and out of his grasp, planting your feet on the floor. An overwhelming guilt floods you as you bury your head in your hands. The man in your bed just a couple months ago would’ve dropped dead at a statement like that. He could’ve gone on for hours about how important that spot was to him, and what the hell’s he willing to give that up for?

“Are you okay?” Chenle sits up behind you, fingertips brushing your arm.

“We have to stop.” It was supposed to come out much stronger than it did, but at least you didn’t have to look at him.

“Wha—how did that even—why?” He adjusts to sit next to you, eyebrows furrowed.

“Do you even hear yourself right now?” you snap. “What the fuck is top ten to someone like you? School has been everything to you, and you’re forgetting projects like it means nothing. Have you even been doing your work? You’re with me all the time, and the only thing you’ve been doing school wise is helping me with physics.”

“It was one time, (Y/N), okay?”

“Now you’re lying to me,” you groan in exasperation.

“I…” He gulps and turns his head away from you.

“I told you to tell me if you ever caught feelings, Chenle.” You blink back tears and chew the inside of your cheek while you await his response.

But no matter how much you wait, it doesn’t come. His hands are clasped together in his lap, and he stares down at them, inhaling shaky breaths.

“My God, you’re not even denying it.” You stand up, unable to stop yourself from pacing around the room. “This is what’s making you all complacent about school? Seriously? This is the exact reason you said you didn’t want to date. Or find someone to sleep with, because you didn’t have time—”

“I actually said it was because I hadn’t found anyone worth it,” he finally speaks up, gaze finally lifting to meet yours. “What did you expect would happen? You really thought the virgin would be able to stop himself from falling for you after everything we’ve done? I’m sorry if that’s not what you wanted, or if you wanted me to tell you, but by the time I actually realized what was happening, it was too late. I’d lose you. In all aspects, not just…whatever the hell this is.”

“You need to go.”

“After all of this, you don’t even…not even a little bit?”

You do. How do you tell him no and lie right to his face?

“I just put everything out there. The least you can do at this point is tell me if all of this only meant something to me.” Desperation tugs on his features, and he takes a step closer to you. “Did you spend every night with me and still not…”

“Stop,” you shout. “What the hell are you thinking? What is it that you want me to say? It doesn’t matter if I do or don’t have feelings for you, because I would never—”

“Date me?” he interrupts you. “Love me? What’s so bad about either of those things? I’m trying my best out here.”

“Would you let me finish?” You run your fingers through your hair. “I was going to say I would never let you give up your number one spot for any girl. Not just me. Because that’s fucking stupid. And you’re not stupid, Chenle, so you need to remember what’s actually important.”

“(Y/N), please. I can’t go back to how things were. Not when I know what all of this is like.”

“Then maybe we just don’t talk at all.” You clench your fists at your side. The idea breaks your own heart. “It’s not like we have any classes together. The only time we see each other is here anyway.”

“You haven’t denied it, either.” He’s directly in front of you now, watery eyes staring into yours. “You made a big deal of me not denying it, but you haven’t either.”

“Get out.” You point toward your door. “Leave me alone. Just go.”

Now he’s speechless, and the hurt on his face plays out right in front of you. You want to yell and scream because you’re the one causing this. You should’ve seen this coming. When he first approached you and asked you for this, you should’ve said no. If you had turned him away, things would be normal. He wouldn’t have turned complacent about the thing he once cared the most about. But what did that mean? Was it you he was willing to give it up for, or was it the freedom and new experiences you provided?

“You…what about your exam? It’s only a couple weeks before the end of the semester.”

“Don’t worry about me or my grades when you’re not even thinking of your own. Please, Chenle, just go. I’ll bring Jisung here if I have to.” You sniffle, rolling your eyes.

His jaw tightens as he glances up at the ceiling. “Fine. I…Clearly, nothing I say is gonna—yeah. I guess I’ll see you around.”

He grabs his backpack from the floor and slings it over his shoulder, and as soon as he closes the door behind him, you climb into your bed, grab the pillow he always uses, and cradle it to your chest. You don’t mean to let yourself cry, but once you start, you can’t stop.

You barely even remembered telling Jisung that Chenle would go to the party that weekend. To be honest, you’d told him about it, but hope that he won’t come gnaws at the edges of your heart. In all honesty, you didn’t even want to go. And if your best friend hadn’t practically forced you out of bed and to get dressed, you wouldn’t have.

You and Jisung went separate ways once you arrived at Jaemin’s house. Absent-mindedly, you find yourself in the kitchen, mixing a drink. The only way you’ll get through the night is with liquor. Once you walk back towards the living room, you see Jisung standing at the corner. He grins when he notices you.

“Dude, I so thought you were fucking with me. I’ll give it to you though, I guess you were right. You must be a good tutor.” Jisung lets out an obnoxious laugh. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

“What are you talking about?” You frown.

He nods his head in the opposite direction, and when you follow his gaze, you immediately tense. Of course, Chenle did show up. Not only that, but he’s in full-on conversation with a girl you don’t recognize. Your throat tightens, but you swiftly attempt to ignore it with a quick sip of your drink.

“Never thought he’d get there,” Jisung evaluates him. “She looks like she’s into him.”

“Great.” You try your best not to sound sarcastic.

Jisung side eyes you, but he doesn’t say anything else. He crosses his arms over his chest and proceeds to watch Chenle, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to look in his direction. Your desire to be at this party has significantly decreased, and all you want to do is walk out and forget you ever saw him here. But it doesn’t matter either way—you sent him away. You have no right to be jealous or upset that he’s doing exactly what you taught him to do. If he wants to find a girlfriend or a fling, that’s up to him. And neither option should make you upset, no matter how much you can’t deny that it very much does.

“Oh, shit,” Jisung mutters, a chuckle escaping him.

Your head shoots in Chenle’s direction, and you bristle at the sight. He whispers something in the girl’s ear, and she laughs. Your chest tightens, somewhat desperate to know what he said to her—if it was any of the things he’s ever said to you. Maybe it was something you taught him. He leans away from her, but not all the way. The smile drops from her face, and you know immediately what’s about to happen. You push your cup against Jisung’s chest until he takes it from you.

“I can’t do this.” You shake your head and bolt in the opposite direction, toward the front door. Tears well in your eyes, but they only serve to piss you off. You shouldn’t care—you told him you didn’t.

Jisung drove you, so there’s nowhere for you to go except the front porch. You sit down on the top step, head buried in your palms. Taking a deep breath, you look up in time to see Karina walking out of the house with her keys.

“Are you going home?” you ask.

“Yeah, tonight’s kinda lame.” She scans over you and purses her lips. “You want a ride? I didn’t drink.”

“Fuck, yes. Please.” You launch up and follow Karina to her car.

Thankfully, she doesn’t ask you any questions on the way to your place. As you thank her and step out of the car, she grabs your wrist.

“I think I know what’s going on.” She pauses. “If there’s something you want, (Y/N), you shouldn’t let it go. Because you’ll regret it, okay?”

You nod and gulp. “Thanks, Rina.”

She lets you go and smiles. You close the car door behind you and head up to your apartment, questioning how you let yourself get into this predicament. Why the you from a few months ago didn’t have any clue how easy it would be to fall for someone like Chenle—a man with a kind heart, who cares for you and your wellbeing. You stare at your phone like it’ll light up from his text message, but you put a decent wedge between the two of you with your last conversation. Would he even look at his phone if you texted him? Maybe he’s already taking that girl home. He may learn it wasn’t even you he fell for, but the sex. And when he has sex with another girl, he’ll figure out you’re not special, and—

“God fucking damn it,” you groan, angrily wiping at your tears. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

Your phone vibrates, but it’s a call from Jisung. You sniffle and clear your throat before answering.

“Yeah?”

“Where the hell did you go?” he snaps.

“I’m at home,” you tell him. “Rina drove me home.”

“Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?” Jisung’s annoyance creeps through. “You just stormed out, but I figured you’d at least tell me if you were leaving the area.”

“Sungs, I’m not really in the mood to be yelled at right now.” You can’t hide the crack in your voice.

“Are you okay?” His voice instantly softens. “Is this about—”

“Don’t. I don’t want anyone else you’re with to know. It’s humiliating, isn’t it? Teaching a man everything you know for him to use it other places.” You chuckle, staring up at your ceiling.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” Jisung sighs. “Because you clearly didn’t want him talking to that girl.”

“You’re making me sound pathetic.”

“Uh.”

“Fuck you, Park Jisung.” You roll your eyes. “You’re not helping.”

“Do you want me to come over?” he asks.

“Stay at the party. I’ll be okay.” You grab Chenle’s pillow and pull it to your chest. “Is he…did he leave?”

“He’s not with her, if that’s what you’re asking. He left. By himself. After I figured out you were gone, I kinda freaked out and there was like…a search party. He didn’t care much about her after that.”

“He’s so annoying,” you huff out. “Why couldn’t he have just…fucked that girl or something?”

“Like you wouldn’t have crumbled to dust at the literal thought of that.” Jisung scoffs. “I know you, (Y/N), and no matter what you say, there’s no way you feel absolutely nothing for him. You’re both suffering because of the denial, you know.”

“What if it’s not really me he wants? Like…what if he just likes the sex and doesn’t realize it yet?” You shake your head.

Jisung lets out a long sigh. “He’s not a child, okay? Just because he hasn’t had sex before or dated anyone doesn’t mean he doesn’t know what that feels like, dude.”

Before you answer, the knock on your front door takes you off guard. You sit up and throw the blanket off your body. Jisung mutters something in the background, but you can’t focus on what he’s saying. When you open the door, you almost stop breathing. You put the phone back up to your ear. “Jisung, let me call you back.”

He doesn’t even have time to respond before you hang up and toss it over to the side. Through the dark, Chenle stares back at you. His fists clench and unclench as he stands there in silence, clearly unsure what to say.

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

“I can’t fucking do this,” he replies. “I need you, okay? Don’t try and lie to me and say you have no feelings for me, because I saw you today. When I acted that way about you and Jeno, you asked me if I had feelings for you. Is that ‘cause you have them, too?”

“Yes.”

“Can you just be honest with—huh?” His brows furrow and his eyes narrow.

“You want the truth, Chenle? Yes. Yes, I like you, but I’m not letting you jeopardize your schooling for any of this. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“I’ll be better,” he says. “I was just…distracted. It felt like every moment with you was fleeting, and I had to get every second I could before you disappeared.” He steps inside your apartment and closes the door.

“Lele, that’s such a big risk.” You feel like you’re shrinking in on yourself. How do you tell yourself it’s okay to be selfish this time if he doesn’t have to give anything up to be with you?

“And I get that. I do. But it’s worth it. You’re worth it. And I don’t want to let you go just because we’re still in school. We can have something real. Honestly, we’ve had that this whole time, and you trying to say we didn’t is doing us both a disservice.”

“What happened with that girl today?” you ask.

“You know what that was. A whole lot of fucking nothing.” He runs his fingers through his hair and wets his lips. “I didn’t even kiss her, by the way. I couldn’t. Seriously, I wanted to because I needed to know if these…feelings I have for you are real. Maybe that’s an awful way to do it, but I figured if I kissed someone else and it felt the same, then I’d be okay without you.”

You don’t say a word. His eyebrows furrow.

“I wanted to kiss her because I thought it’d give me the answer I desperately needed, not because I wanted her specifically. I want you. I’ve wanted you since the first fucking day I met you. And I couldn’t kiss her because she wasn’t you. Nobody will ever be you, and—”

“I love you.”

“—I wish there was a way I could—huh?”

You step closer to him. “You’re right. I love you. From the moment you had stars in your eyes just from talking about them.”

His jaw drops, and relief floods his features, but he flounders for words.

“If you don’t say it back, I might die of embarrassment.”

“God, of course, I fucking love you.” He scoffs, reaching forward to cup your cheeks and pull you to him.

Your lips meet so abruptly, you gasp. Without any hesitation, you wrap your arms around him and weave your fingers through his hair. His chest presses against yours, and whatever battle you’d been trying to fight until this point has been lost.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He punctuates each word with another kiss, and he begins to walk you backwards. You cling on to him but allow him to guide you.

“You have to promise you won’t let school fall behind,” you say breathlessly, placing your palms on his chest once you make it to your door frame. “That you won’t lose yourself because of me.”

“I hadn’t known myself until I met you, (Y/N). I’m only me if I’m with you.” Chenle gives you a soft smile. “If you’re mine, I won’t be worried about fleeting moments.”

You nod slowly, pulling him back to you. “I need you.”

He groans against your mouth, wrapping an arm firmly around your waist and walking you back until you’re by the edge of your bed. Without breaking the kiss, he follows you down to the mattress, his weight pressing you into it. You spread your legs to accommodate him, sliding your hands beneath the hem of his shirt to pull it off. He assists you, and as soon as it’s thrown across the room, you reach for him desperately to minimize the amount of time without the two of you connected.

“Say you love me again,” he mutters. “Please.”

“I love you,” you repeat easily, letting out a shaky breath as he reaches beneath your shirt to squeeze your breasts. His thumbs flick over your nipples, and you moan quietly.

“Me, too, baby.” He pulls your shirt off and interrupts the kiss to drag his lips down your neck. “There’s one thing you still haven’t taught me.”

“What’s that?”

“Show me how to make love to you.” He moves down further and takes your nipple in his mouth.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, gasping at the sensation. “Come here, Lele.”

When he’s face to face with you again, the darkness in his eyes has wetness spreading between your legs. He edges closer to you, unable to resist the urge of kissing you again. When he’s barely centimeters away, you lift your hand and trace his bottom lip, entranced by everything he is.

“Some things can’t be taught,” you whisper. “Sometimes, they just have to be felt.”

A ghost of a smile forms beneath your touch, and he nods. While his urgency is still there, he slows down, giving his hands freedom to explore you. Your back arches as his palm slides along your side. He grinds against you, shuddering breaths escaping. You lift up to match him, and you moan when you feel his hard length against your thinly covered core. The lust in his gaze has changed to adoration, a gentle gleam reflecting the moonlight outside as he removes your shorts and panties. His palm sends warmth through your abdomen, and he slowly moves lower.

“Can I?” he murmurs, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“Please.”

He kisses you as a distraction, and you whine when his fingertips press against your clit. Humming in his own form of pleasure, he rubs uniform circles.

“Relax,” he tells you. “You’re so tense, baby. Let me take care of you.”

You immediately melt. “More.”

He parts your lips with his tongue, and as soon as it enters your mouth, his fingers slip inside. You moan, eyes rolling back as you rock your hips. The noises pouring from you can’t be controlled. You break the kiss and gasp when he curls his fingers and hits your spot.

“Fuck, again.” You dig your nails into his shoulders.

He repeats the motion, the tip of his nose brushing along your cheek. In your ear, he says, “I love you. So fucking much.”

A shiver of pleasure runs down your spine. You tilt your head back. “I’m close, fuck.”

He takes your ear lobe between his teeth and tugs, eliciting a cry from the back of your throat. Your walls clamp down wildly on his fingers, but he knows you more than you’d care to admit at this point. Right before you crumble before his eyes, he removes his fingers from you. Before you can protest, he silences you with a kiss.

“Condom?” he asks.

“Up to you,” you reply.

He pushes his pants off and to the floor, and you have a brief moment to admire the bulge straining in his boxers before those are thrown, too. Wrapping his hand around his cock, he inhales sharply as he jerks himself off a couple times.

“Ready, baby?” He climbs over you again, nudging your sensitive clit with his tip.

You nod, tugging him closer. “Hurry up.”

Chenle trails down to line up with your entrance, and he groans when he coats himself in your arousal. “You’re so wet.”

You open your mouth to say something, but he pushes inside of you at the same time. A loud moan escapes instead, making you slap your own hand over your mouth as your walls stretch to accommodate Chenle.

“God, do you know what you fucking do to me?” He drops his head on your shoulder as he bottoms out deep inside you.

Both of you are impatient today, apparently, because he wastes no time in moving his hips. He only leaves the tip in, just to push his hips forward. His moans join yours, the sound enough to make your walls flutter around him.

“So good.” You match his movements, lifting up every time he thrusts.

He speeds up, making sure to press flush against you every time he bottoms out. The sight of him alone is enough to have you trembling, but seeing him entranced by where your bodies are connected has you clenching around him.

He lets out a long moan, and you join him in looking between the two of you. His skin slaps yours, and sounds of your arousal fill the room. His teeth sink into his bottom lip, and he reaches between the two of you to find your clit. The first contact makes you jolt and whine.

You wrap your legs around his waist, smashing your lips to his. He smirks against your mouth, the steady pace of his thumb on your sensitive bud sending spasms down your spine. Your stomach ties in knots, and you squirm beneath him.

“Lele, ‘m gonna cum.” You barely get the words out through your pleasured haze, and he nods, burying his head in your neck and thrusting into you harder. Your legs shake as you tighten them around him, and your entire being ascends as your orgasm slams into you. You moan so loudly, he kisses you to keep you quiet.

“Feels so good.” His voice cracks as he fucks you through your high.

You kiss him hard, and use your legs to flip the two of you over so you’re on top. His jaw drops at the sight of you, hands immediately trailing up your body to your breasts. You give him a second to admire before you start your steady pace. You lean back and brace your palms on his thighs, slowly rolling your hips as you sink down on his cock. He uses the position to put his thumb on your clit again. You jolt, cursing again as you speed up. The sensitivity has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, but the feeling of him snug inside you, rubbing against your walls, has you approaching a second orgasm.

You’re not expecting it, but you hope he lasts long enough to finish you off a second time. Your brain is clouded with pleasure, and one look at him tells you he’s teetering close to the edge. His jaw is clenched, face contorted in pleasure as he stares at you bouncing on top of him. You’re seconds away. Your orgasm builds deep inside you, and your hips falter. He thrusts up, moaning loudly. Legs quaking, your second orgasm hits you hard, back arching. Chenle sits up to catch you crumbling into his chest, rocking his hips. He wraps his arms around you and holds you to him tightly as one last thrust has him spilling deep inside you. Both of you are covered in sweat, panting in the aftermath of the pleasure.

“Fuck.” He pants, burying his head in your neck and kissing where it joins with your shoulder. “‘M never gonna get used to that.”

When you chuckle, he squirms and gasps.

“Did you know you like, clench when you laugh?” He squeezes your hips. “We’ve been doing this for months, and I’m still learning.”

“The human body is wonderful,” you tease him. “Maybe you’ll switch from physics to anatomy.”

“The only anatomy I’m curious about is yours.” He holds you close and turns you on your back. Placing one last kiss on your forehead, he pulls out of you slowly. A lazy smile graces his face as he sees the sticky mess between your legs.

“You weirdo.” You nudge him with your foot.

He grabs your ankle and yanks you down closer to him. Hovering over you, he narrows his eyes. “Me being a weirdo is solely your fault, you know.”

“I suppose you’ve earned it.” You pretend to think about it. “Kiss me.”

He doesn’t hesitate to lean down and press his lips to yours, the movement softer and slower than before. You don’t mean to let out a long sigh of pleasure, but his breath shudders against your mouth. “Don’t do that,” he whines. “I’ll get hard again.”

“Why don’t we go shower together?” You twirl his hair.

“Mm, you gonna let me wash your hair?” He presses soft kisses up your neck. “I’ll take any excuse to touch you, baby.”

“You’re getting good at this.” You laugh and rest your head back on the pillow. “You never would’ve talked like that before. It’s sexy.”

He hums and nips your skin. “That’s your magic.”

After a few more moments of him doting on you, the two of you get in the shower. The two of you stand under the water, relaxing in the hot steam and each other’s embrace. His hands trail over your body until he’s eventually cupping your breasts.

“Hear me out,” he mutters. “How about we both just drop out and stay exactly like this forever.”

“Sounds great in theory, Lele, but you made a promise.”

He groans. “I made a few promises tonight. Don’t worry, I meant all of them.”

His thumbs brush your nipples until they harden beneath his touch. He pins you to his chest with his arm, continuing his work on your breast as his other hand trails down your body. Apparently, you’ve turned him into something insatiable, but you definitely benefit from it. He stops with his hand on your hip.

“Need something, baby?”

The tone of his voice sends a chill down your spine, and mixed with hot water cascading over you, you moan. You clench your thighs together, desperate for friction.

He adjusts to pinch your nipple, rolling it between his fingers. “Feel good?”

“Touch me,” you whine, grabbing at his wrist to push him between your legs.

“If it were socially acceptable, I’d be touching you at all times.” His fingertips find your clit. “You’re so fucking warm, and those little sounds you make…”

“Faster,” you say as you arch your back.

“But you’re so sensitive,” he whispers. “I’m having fun like this.”

“Lele, please.” You drop your head back. “I need you.”

“Music to my fucking ears.” He sinks two fingers inside you, his palm smacking against your clit every time he thrusts them in.

Your arousal gushes over him, and he bites down on his bottom lip to keep any sounds at bay. He stops working your nipple, too focused on the way your walls clamp on his fingers. You whine at the loss, putting your hand over his to tell him to keep playing with you.

He pulls his fingers out, trailing the wetness along your thighs. Right when he pinches your nipple, he does the same to your clit. You jolt and cry out, rolling your hips to get more stimulation.

“I wanna fuck you so bad right now,” he groans. “You always look so fucking pretty when you want me like this.”

“I can take it,” you tell him as you squeeze your thighs together. “Anything you give me, I’ll take it.”

A deep moan escapes him, and the next thing you know, he’s pulling you back so he can bend you over.

“Hands on the wall,” he instructs.

Once you’re fully bent over, you push back against him, desperate for him to fill you. He strokes his cock, gaze stuck directly on your core. He reaches around your body, squeezing your breasts again.

He releases you and lines himself up with your entrance. Right when you think he’ll push inside, he rubs his tip on your clit. Without warning, he slides completely inside, his tip resting snug against your spot from this angle. You scream, already pushing your hips back.

Neither of you have time to breathe before he’s thrusting hard, nails digging into your skin as he pulls you back with every forward movement. Your hands slip down the wall, the squeak of the tile doing nothing but adding to the pleasure of him inside you. The water amplifies the clapping sounds of his body against yours, and your eyes roll back from all of the overwhelming feelings.

“Lele,” you whine. “S-spread my legs a little more.”

He does as you ask, still thrusting at a slower pace.

“Now keep going how you were.” You push back until he’s buried deep inside you.

He seems to understand your motive without you explaining it, and you thank everything you can think of that he’s so fucking smart. When he resumes his unrelenting pace, it’s joined with his balls smacking into your clit. Every thrust has your walls fluttering around him, and each hit on your sensitive bud brings you closer to your much needed orgasm.

“Just like that.” You can barely speak at this point, fucking yourself back on his cock to match his pace.

A knot ties in your stomach, and you’re left delirious as you chase the unraveling of it. You let out your loudest moan yet, letting all of the sensations around you drive you over the edge. Chenle curses behind you as your walls clamp down on him, but he keeps moving. It doesn’t take long for your pleasure to turn into overstimulation from him rubbing against your walls.

As soon as an unfamiliar cry leaves you, he stops immediately.

“Are you okay?” he asks, panting.

“I–I can’t keep—fuck, I’m sorry.” You clench your fists together.

“No, baby, it’s okay.” He carefully pulls out of you and guides you back to your feet. “Don’t be sorry. You’d never be mad at me for something like that.”

“But you—”

“The fact you even let me in at all still baffles me.” He chuckles, pulling you in for a short kiss. His cheeks are bright red, and while he’s brushing your hair out of your face, an idea comes to mind.

“Let me fix it.” You kiss his cheek.

Before he has the opportunity to ask what you’re talking about, you’re guiding him until his back is against the wall. The chill of the tile makes his cock twitch, and you wish you could take him again. Instead, you lower yourself down onto your knees.

“You’re—the tile’s gonna hurt your—”

“Do you want to cum in my mouth or on my face?”

He gulps. “You don’t have to—”

“Answer the question.” You glare up at him, and he curses.

“Your face. If that’s okay.”

You chuckle. “I wouldn’t have offered if it wasn’t.”

“It kinda—it sounds so hot but I don’t want you to think it’s demeaning or anyth—oh, fuck.” His head drops against the wall when you take him in your mouth. You sink further and further until he’s snug down your throat, your nose pressed to his pelvis.

You hollow your cheeks as you pull away from him. He slides out with a pop, and when you look up at him, his jaw is dropped.

“First of all, if I was worried about you looking down on me, we would not be having sex at all. Second, don’t be shy. Grab my hair. Fuck my throat, I don’t care.”

His eyes widen, and like you’ve awoken something inside him, he grabs the back of your head and pushes you forward. You grin smugly before wrapping your lips around his tip. Running your tongue along to gather his precum, you grab onto his thighs to keep you steady.

“C’mon, baby, take it.” He inhales sharply as he pushes his cock into your mouth. You let him take full control, humming around him.

The vibrations make his hips jerk, and his tip slams into the back of your throat. You whimper, tears welling in your eyes.

“‘M sorry,” he groans, thrusting at a steady pace. “Just feels so fucking good. Smack me if you need to stop.”

You give him the best nod you can and brace yourself against him. It doesn’t take long for his orgasm to approach after he has your confirmation. He holds your head firmly, letting out a high pitched moan as you gag and your throat constricts around him.

He mutters something incoherent, and you pull away from him and stroke him with your hand instead. As soon as his hips buck, you open your mouth. Strings of white shoot from his tip, and you close your eyes as it coats your face. You swallow what lands on your tongue, panting as you look up at him.

“Oh,” he murmurs, the tips of his fingers lifting your chin up. 

His thumb swipes over your bottom lip, and before he can rinse away his release, you lean forward and wrap your lips around him.

“My fucking God, you’re dangerous.” He kisses you, guiding you back beneath the water to rinse you off. You sigh into his kiss, finally letting the warmth relax you completely.

“We should get out soon,” you tell him.

“I don’t ever want to be away from you.” He shakes his head. “Let me at least wash your hair like I said I would.”

You laugh and roll your eyes. “You’re the one who got sidetracked, by the way.”

“And you love me for it. You said it yourself.” He beams at you, grabbing your shampoo from the shelf.

“That is the truth.” You wrap your arms around him and allow him to work his fingers through your hair.

After your hair is washed, the two of you get out of the shower. Both of you are beyond exhausted, so you end up right back in bed together, you curled into him like he’s a body pillow. He runs his fingers up and down your spine.

“Think Jisung’ll kill us?” he asks, sleep weighing down his voice.

“Who cares?” You listen to the steady sound of his heartbeat. “We’re happy.”

Chenle pulls you impossibly closer and presses his lips to the top of your head. If anyone told you when you first met him that this is how it was going to work out with Chenle, you would’ve laughed in their faces.

But life works in mysterious ways, and not only are you happier with Chenle in your life, but you’re a bit smarter, too.

#nct dream #chenle #nct #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct imagines #chenle smut #nct scenarios #nct dream angst #nct dream fluff #nct x reader #chenle x reader #chenle scenarios #nct dream chenle #nct chenle #nct fluff #nct angst #chenle fluff #chenle angst #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios

[silverutahraptor]

Evil thing part of me desperately wants to do: write a f/f fic for my OTP. Then change *just* the pronouns to make it m/m. Post both on AO3 with slightly different titles and slightly different summaries and see if anyone notices

#raptor speaks #come on I KNOW some people read m/m AND f/f #but you gotta admit this idea is kinda hilarious #this would also be a writing exercise for moi #do I write my fav characters differently depending on the gender? #are they the same? #do they get the same reaction? #(i mean duh NO because f/f fics usually sink) #(but like. is something that is gentle in male Izuna too girly for female Izuna? #is something that’s badass for male Izuna too vicious for female Izuna? etc) #(to be clear *I* don’t think it. but feedback would be interesting. hm.) #it would also be an exercise in… reading comprehension? #do people subscribed to me check for ratings etc. #do people actively filter out f/f content etc

[mishtershpock]

.

#not to sound like a broken record #i know this has already been talked about a lot in current fandom discourse #but all the tommy love also comes from a place of #misogyny (buck’s m/f relationships failed bc the women weren’t good enough. but his first m/m is perfect and destined and tommy is god) #(even though we know next to nothing about them as a couple. cough 1 kiss and 1 failed date cough cough) #and biphobic concepts (buck’s only relationship/partner that is worth shipping and love and fandom time is the m/m one) #(if he’s with a woman he’s not worth our time? the relationship/partner isn’t worth our time. right?) #some people kinda sounding like the conservative haters right now #oliver stark’s voice shouting from afar: he isn’t gay! he is bisexual! he still likes women! #some people like to celebrate bi buck (as we should) but then erase his previous gfs #in favour of this 1 man he’s shared literally 4 scenes with. okay #<- <- <- i drafted this like 6 hours before that interview came out. ollie came to back me up with the ‘he still likes women’ lmao #him dating a guy now does not erase or dismiss his previous m/f relationships or that he’s still into women #one final comment. any time buck got with a girl it was ‘they need to break up immediately’ #‘she’s not right for him’ #he’s with his first guy and it’s ’they should be endgame’ #‘they’re perfect together’ #huh?? one. we barely know tommy/them together #two. what exactly makes them endgame material? bc they’re both men? cough biphobic misogyny fetishization cough #three. it would be objectively hilarious if he realises his sexuality and within 2 weeks is dating a guy for the first time #and then that guy ends up being his endgame forever partner. lmaoooo that would be so dumb sawry #not to mention it would kinda lean into the biphobia and misogyny mentioned above #in that it would suggest that his problem with finding love previously was… women #and this problem is now magically fixed because… man #four. not to be a buddie endgame truther but if all the vocal support means this is what we get instead #instead of Them. i’m out see ya bye bye #i am sooooo reading way too much into this but oh well

[crown-ov-horns]

Anyone want Crowley x Readers? Or War x Readers? I don't know how long I'll take to start uploading my WIPs, and I don't like to not upload. Female Reder. Both male and female Crowley (not at the same time). War'd be... Herself.

What are you saying? I'm procastrinating? Why, ✨yes✨, how did you know? On my WIPs, original works, and papers for uni.

#no actually i've been away from good omens for so long they'd be decent enough practice especially for crowley war i'm more connected to #but of course i'm ✨procastrinating✨ #good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens fandom #x reader #crowley #good omens crowley #lady crowley #fem!crowley #crowley x reader #crowley x you #fem!crowley x reader #good omens war #war x reader #diary pages #writing journal #the gif is him coming to bother well... you #who's reading this #i don't know anyone in this fandom #i'm don't know how suave he/she can really be but i'll add at least some demonic charm #i don't know i did that michael langdon x reader and it made me feel productive besides people liked it #i don't know i can see smut fluff... random nonsensical scenes #i'll maybe even do crowley some dom elements... like out of spite for seeing so much of the reverse #everyone in my works is a switch #fem!reader #m/f #f/f #i should be doing other things

[mal-zoya]

so wait a fucking minute v.e. schwab is gay, all the main characters are bi and WE ARE STILL STUCK ON A GENERIC STRAIGHT LOVE TRIANGLE???? HOW????

#the invisible life of addie larue #i shouldn't have started reading this book #absolute mistake #i haven't been this pissed about writing choices for a while #i was so excited when henry was revealed as bi i was like heck yeah finally some good fucking food #maybe some spicy interaction between henry luc and/or addie??? #NO #one scene one fucking scene and that was it? ARE YOU SERIOUS??? #lady you are gay and you can write gay so well when it comes to it AND THIS IS WHAT YOU GIVE ME???? #the first half of the book is meh i barely remember it - the second half is simultaneously super interesting and raising my blood pressure #i'm sorry i know i'm going off here #i just don't understand how can you fail like that FOR NO REASON #i'm- #so upset right now and that's an understatement #it's not that bi people can't be in straight relationships it's not about that #it's about having interesting characters and plot and throw them into the most boring narrative choice ever #-> m/f/m love triangle #*takes a deep breath* #anyways

[skania]

I have briefly ventured into the Stranger Things fandom and I’m both sad and not surprised to see it’s the same as any other big fandom nowadays. People trying to villainize perfectly unproblematic ships because they don’t align with their shipping agenda, all while grasping at straws to prove why their completely fanon-only ship is the gospel truth.

When did people start to forget that:

a) you’re free to dislike a ship simply because you dislike it. you can have your NOTP with your whole chest without needing to jump through hoops to try and turn an unproblematic ship into a problematic one.

b) you don’t need a ship to be canon to ship it. you can ship it simply because you liked their chemistry together, their potential. hell, you don’t even need characters to interact to ship them.

#tv: stranger things #fandom: stranger things #unbelievable #the stuff I've read about chrissy and eddie #it's absolutely ridiculous #they're literally a trope as old as time and people are trying to turn chrissy into a child to justify their hatred for it #like bro you're absolutely free to dislike it but chrissy is canonically a senior #you don't need to come up with stuff you know #why would anyone judge you for disliking a ship I don't understand #and people pretending the actors and writers don't ship eddie with chrissy #when joseph quinn literally just said eddie had a crush on her #at the end of the day all that is happening is that some people prefer m/m over f/m #and that is 100% valid #but again #both can peacefully coexist #fandom is supposed to be fun idgi #meanwhile I'm here shipping edissy and enjoying st*ddie and the fandom won't let me do it in peace lmao

[screampied]

‘ #KNOCK(HER)OUT ! ’

ᡴꪫ‎ sum. you get more than what you bargained for by getting involved with two boxers—two boxers that can’t keep their hands off the pretty new journalist. what happens in the ring stays in the ring though…. right?

wc. 5.7k

warnings. fem! reader x t. fushiguro & s. ryōmen, boxer!au, thrēesome, manhandling, unprotected, semi public, size kink, ōral (f & m receiving), head lock, spīt, sqūirting, they fight over you, brēeding, fīngering, implied multiple ōrgasms, nipple play.

an. based on this ask, haven’t recovered since :,)

sukuna ryōmen and toji fushiguro. . .

the talk of the town. top most infamous boxers of your city, they were supposedly rivals but ended up becoming super close friends. 'friends' was probably a stretch. acquaintances was probably a far better word to describe the two. there was hardly anyone that didn’t tune into your detailed magazines about them—your occupation? a journalist. you’d be the first to write about their fights, their strengths, weaknesses, their total wins & losses, and even a few unnecessary things like their love life. you were new, but you were good. always in the front row, you’d watch them spar against some of the most scariest opponents imaginable. something about guys taking it out in the ring right before your eyes got your panties in a twist. how unprofessional..

you only did it for the money, the publicity— a lot of people adored your skill to make such stories so interesting. between toji and sukuna, they were almost always compared, and oh did they hate it. ex rivals continuously pinned against each other, it’d piss anyone off. although, you were in dire need for a new story topic to write and you just so happen to stumble into their private gym.

“yo,” a rough sly yet cunning voice mutters, and it’s so deep—you recognize it from anywhere, toji fushiguro in the flesh. “are ya lost? no fuckin’ autographs.”

“don’t be rude, ‘toj,” and your eyes avert towards sukuna— he’s a few inches taller and your eyes roam at them both. they had droplets of sweat racing down their washboard abs, scars coating their skin with ruffled hair as if they’d just finished a match. sukuna drags his feet towards you before his eyes light up. “ohh, i know you,” he snickers, grabbing your notepad before nudging his friend. “she’s our little journalist toji. and she’s a damn fine one too..”

“. . . uh,” was all you could make out, feeling a sudden tightness in your stomach. your eyes continue to stare, your lewd thoughts only become more and more vulgar. seconds pass before you realize sukuna took your notebook, toji pauses his sets to get a good look at you. “i thought this was the ladies' room.”

“girl bye,” toji grumbles with two hands buried into his shorts pockets— he reads right through you as if you were some sort of exposed novel. people said he was a lot sassier in person but you didn’t think it’d actually be true. green dark eyes linger onto you for a long time before he stretches, leaning down to get a good glimpse at your figure. “did you come here just to stare or what?”

you were taken aback at how blunt he was.

a coy grin appears on his lips as he watches you struggle to formulate a good enough response.

you were nosy, you were really really nosy. for once, perhaps you didn’t wanna just jot down things about these two— just maybe, just maybe . . you wanted a hands-on experience.

“i… needed new material for my article before the next match starts,” you utter, squeezing your thighs together. sukuna tilts his head, eyeing you in a way that makes you feel hot. toji’s stare was ten times more intimate, darkened irises practically staring right into your soul—you knew this wasn’t the bathroom, you were lying. “i was hoping maybe you’d give me some uh . . inspo.”

they were both towering over you with height, you felt small—like an ant that was preparing itself to be crushed by a villainous shoe.

“inspiration, she says?” sukuna hums, his voice is low—raspy, an almost purr hiding underneath it before he moves closer towards you. “just tell us what you really want, princess.”

“nah don’t get all shy now,” toji chimes in once he sees you grow more sheepish. they both close in on you—you felt like you were trapped in a fever dream, you weren’t exactly complaining either. they smelled so good, a mixture of sultry sweat and a loud scent of heavy cologne that wafts throughout the entire training room. “you got our attention so spit it out, girl.”

“i— i want you both.” you finally mutter after seven long consecutive seconds. with the way toji’s staring right through you, you felt like your stomach sank between your legs - your legs that were throbbing with nothing but mere arousal, again perhaps this was unprofessional. no, it was very unprofessional—but anyone would kill to be in your position, being sandwiched between the top two boxers of your city.

sukuna snickers. “both? what makes you think i’d wanna share with this bum?”

“shut up,” toji snarls, and the way his facial expressions tense a bit—so attractive. the headlines + press was right about toji, he was a lot more handsome in person. he was a fairly new boxer yet a pure lady's man. he’s had a plethora of fangirls while in the ring and maybe you were one of them. as he inches towards you with a hand softly gripping underneath your chin, he inhales. his entire facial structure, so chiseled—brief dark stubble coats the entirety lower half of his jaw and he rubs his left boxing glove against his left knee. “that really want you want? both of us?” and his voice softens. it’s a bit more pitchy and low, and he sneers. “on me, look at me when you reply too, girl.”

your lip gradually pulls down from his thumb playing against it. you felt so hot, the air suddenly felt thick.

a sudden lump gets caught in your throat before you mumble. “i want you both,” and your eyes meet the dark-haired boxer, simultaneously glancing at his attire— shirtless, boxing shorts on with his custom-made ‘fushiguro’ briefs wilting near the top—only showing the hem part. just a teensy detail like that was so enticing that you even spot a few parts of his exposing snatched waist. only after awhile you then abruptly snap out of your vulgar fantasm. “…please.”

“the real question is, pretty little journalist,” sukuna steps in, a hand stroking against your chin. you didn’t know where to even look. both boxers had their hands on you and the tightened squeezing between your plush thighs grew even more. “can you handle both?”

“yes.” you’d speak in a soft voice, most likely as of now you were probably speaking from between your legs—you didn’t care though, everyone’s a little delusional at some point. emphasis on a little in your case, because you had no idea what you were getting in to with these two.

toji snickers. “hm,” he mutters, eyes focusing on you for a long time before he raises his chin. “fine. let’s test your strength then,” and he briefly gazes at sukuna. “sukuna. we can take her ‘n the ring.”

and they mean it quite literally— taking you, the both of them versus you, except you weren’t relatively fighting.

not in that sense, but it was versus an opponent that was throbbing between your thighs.

the arena was empty, about a good hundred or more vacant blood-shot red seats scatter everywhere.

inside the ring, it was a mere raised platform, guided and shaped by strong stringy ropes that were yanking between poles at each side and corner. you lay on the spongy canvas of the ring’s floor before biting back a moan.

“scared yet?” sukuna hums, and he props himself right between your legs. this was risky—entirely risky, anyone could just walk in. besides, you were pretty sure they had a match in about a good forty-five minutes. with sprawled-out legs, he moved closer before dragging a thumb down your panties. his voice was a bit deeper than toji’s, they both shared the same amount of rasp.

sukuna had the charm, toji had the suaveness.

you shake your head, feeling yourself grow even hotter the more he stalls time. it feels warm, the entire air around you is humidly thick and you whine as he teasingly bites your panties. not enough to pierce his teeth into your folds, but he bites near the fabric—you watch, the string of your underwear slowly dragging with him. yet, you can’t help but glance at toji who’s just standing there—arms crossed and that same scowl that stuck against his face. “mhm,” he jibes, eyes flickering towards toji. “toji. she’s looking at you.”

“i know she fuckin’ is,” he grumbles, and your head tilts upward. you’re face first with his bulge that was right against your face. talk about space, it was right there. such a big bulge, who were you even kidding though—you found yourself gawking at his bulge at every match he had. with the skin-tight shorts he’d worn, you just knew he was nothing more than a packer. “nosy girl. y’er mouth bored or somethin’?” and he watches your hands paw at the hem of his tucked-out briefs. “need a bit of throat training, huh?”

sukuna’s playing with your panties still. by now, he’s peeling them towards the crevices of your thighs and you whine whilst you feel a thumb of his drag down your honeyed slit. sopping wet, just a three-second stare and he was suddenly esurient.

“look at me, not him,” toji lightly turns your head to face back up to him again. his bulge, his damn bulge that was right up against you. you nod, feeling your mouth dry—you wanted your throat to be filled, it wasn’t even a question. toji gruffs lowly, moving your chin side to side. “huuuh? girl, i don’t speak silence. thought i told ya how to use those words when you speak.”

“i- i wanna suck you off, ‘toj,” and you get cut off once he pulls his boxing shorts down halfway, bringing your face close to his briefs. you’re taken by surprise once he makes you rub your face against his hardened bulge—you moan, as if on instinct, your tongue lolls out just to taste him. even if it’s just the clothed fabric protecting his actual cock, it was something.

he scoffs. “y’er a nasty girl, huh,” he mumbles, peering down to see sukuna starting to lick against your cunt. your legs quaver upon impact and you slump back against the corner of the ring. “can’t wait, yeah. want me to train this empty throat? maybe it’ll make ya a better journalist, nosy ass.”

you’d almost laugh at his little side remark if it wasn’t for sukuna’s tongue lapping against your slick entrance. your lips part as you lean back, a hand going through his hair. “mphm,” he grunts, one hand squeezing the right part of your thigh. “sweetest taste i’ve had in a . . . looong while.” and he’s so sloppy, not even a few seconds pass before he’s already slurping. your panties were lazily shoved to the side and that’s when toji hauls down his briefs.

you gulp, damn.

he wasn’t just big, he was huge…

your mouth starts to salivate the more you stared at the swollen shaft. toji was a big guy . . hence meaning, toji he was a thick guy.

staggering height and a fat base to back it up, he had about two veins running down the side. his tip was a reddish pink, you could already taste him throbbing in your mouth. toji was quite well shaved a bit— though, it was a few specks of black hairs scattered everywhere. however, his happy trail was so pleasing to look. it roams all down his sculpted body, he sighs once you slowly wrap a hand around his cock.

“spit the fuck on it.”

five words and you didn’t hesitate to roll out your pink tongue once more.

you gather a good amount before watching it coat against his pink sweet tip. he groans, watching your hand stroke him a bit. he was so big, so fucking big that you could barely wrap your entire hand around his dick. toji groans, watching you make a total mess out of yourself. pretty glossy lips, pretty glossy lips that would soon be wrapped around his hefty length.

once you get it wet enough, you gently move your mouth onto him. he hisses, the warmth of your throat has his abs clenching.

“m-mhm,” you’d moan out, though your words were purely muffled. sukuna’s sucking on your clit, occasionally nipping and nibbling on it just to make you squirm even more. it was cute— the way your legs could barely hold still, so this was your weak spot. it’s what he thought to himself, lapping his tongue against your slick entrance. brief kisses coat near your folds before he maneuvers such circles against your pussy. feeling his canines nip against your folds every few seconds had you feral in the best way possible.

“y’er makin’ her squirm all over, ‘kuna,” toji lowly chuckles, such baritone in his voice that it makes you soak even more. you didn’t even know how it was possible with the way you were just profusely dripping like a faucet. not even—you put faucets to shame with how slick you were, quickly coating the lower part of sukuna’s chin with your syrupy taste. “open that mouth a ‘lil more, yeah . . . yeah,” and he tilts your head back a bit, prying your mouth open some more. he starts to slowly sink his cock in, so slow. the pace was incredibly tantalizing, your tongue runs against his slit before he pushed more inches inside. “fuckkk, girl,” he continues to grunt out, knees already starting to buckle. the way you took him in, hollow cheeks all puffed, you were already starting to drool a bit. small amounts of your saliva trickle past the corners of your lips as he goes deeper and deeper. deeper until his tip ends up mashing against your uvula and you gag.

“. . ooooh,” he hums, and just a simple noise as that was so seductive. “good…. good,” he swallows, a hand digging through your hair before maintaining a good grip against it. “now . . let’s test this pretty throat’s durability, hm.”

your little nod makes his sly smile widen, your jaw hangs and he starts to gradually piston his hips. such a mess, he was just so big that you were surprised all of it even fit.

“alllll the way down, shit,” your head starts to move, bobbling as your tongue swiftly running against his pulsating head. he gnashes his teeth together, dim eyes flickering towards your hands. you were feeling hot yourself so you made a cute attempt at reaching between your legs. doing so only greets you to a soft concise smack.

“hands to yourself, silly girl,” sukuna grumbles, and this time he grabs your wrist. he simpers, watching you try to even still rub one out but with his grip, you weren’t getting anywhere. as your mouth was occupied with such inches, you whimper once you feel sukuna spank your cunt a few times. “don’t touch my pussy.”

one turns into two, then three, then four. . .

your pretty cunt starts to become his new obsession—the way you’d squelch for him so easily, he gets hard in his boxers. so wet, he knows the layout as if he’s so used to doing this. you wouldn’t be surprised, especially with a tongue like he had. lapping left and right, he parts your legs just a bit farther before the tip of his tongue swirls all around it. he lays it flat, getting a good enough taste before giving it yet another mean spank.

you whimper, feeling your tummy cave in before toji makes you face him once more. “eyes up here, eyes on me,” and he sounds almost jealous the more you focus your attention strictly on his boxer acquaintance. you’re still stroking him, a thumb sliding down a vein that prods alongside his shaft and he groans. your throat, so warm that he starts to feel his right thigh bounce. “should be . . usin’ this throat for shit like this instead of running that mouth.” his voice pitches lower, boxer shorts pulled down and his hair was slightly ruffled. you stare up at toji and he gives you that same cunning smirk. oh, you were soaked. again, this simply felt like a fever dream. even if at the slightest chance that you were dreaming, you never wanted to wake up.

toji’s quite talkative throughout the entire thing, sukuna’s dragging you further and further onto your incoming release and your legs start to rapidly shake even more. you whine and mewl out such sweetened moans, occasionally coming back up for air as you kept his cock warm in your mouth. each time it hits the roof of your mouth, you let off a straddled noise and he finds it so cute, so filthy.

“relax y’er throat, girl,” he mutters, a firm grip on your scalp. with glossy eyes, you follow his words and you stop gagging a bit. he grunts, getting hard every time your pretty eyes make direct contact with him. “such a pretty girl when you listen.” and his tone gets a bit more sensual, more tender.

you whine, feeling sukuna insert a single finger inside of you—you swallow his digit almost immediately and you cringe at hearing your own salaciously lewd squelches.

soaking, sopping wet,

three perfect words to describe between your legs, you choke out a moan once you feel that sensation brew right up inside your stomach. steadily, it was coming closer and closer. you’re breathing through your nose—feeling a few of his pubic hairs tickle against you. you’re moaning, eyes becoming half-lidded and droopy. toji had a mere pout stretching against his face and he felt himself coming close too.

the icing on the cake was your tongue, the way you swirl and slide it against his frenulum—he groans out a low grunt that rings throughout the arena. it reverberates, it's raspy and it only makes you even more aroused. “s-shit, you close too?”

you nod, and toji jeers, finding it amusing to taunt with you as you’re about to reach your inevitable peak. “yeah? gonna make a mess on ‘kuna’s face?”

“told ya don’t call me that,” sukuna grouses, resuming to pump not one but two fingers into you now—you’re almost there. it’s a hot feeling stirring up near your lower abdomen, a pool of it. your eyes start to roll, still slobbering down toji’s cock before he starts to thrust and thrust into your mouth.

“make me.” toji stared at him—and the both of them grew quiet before laughing with each other.

idiots.

your maw opens just a bit wider, and he’s shoving himself in and out of your tight throat—the noises that follow are so lewd, he finds you so pretty like this. mascara all smeared and runny, your hand continues to wrap around his length—his sagged base, so full. you start to salivate again, imagining what his taste was like. you craved it like you crave sweets, sukuna’s tongue running against your clit only made things far more intense before you start to convulse.

“f-fuckkk, ‘m gonna cum,” toji rasps, tilting your head back a bit more. you stare at him, tongue still grazing against the pulsing slit before after a few more pumps—he shoots a nice velvety load into your mouth. he grunts lowly, nostrils flaring up, jaw tightening and all. “. . damn,” he swallows, allowing himself to slow down. you end up finishing around the same time, costing sukuna’s mouth with a honeyed amount of your slick and he hums. you whimper, legs barely able to hold themselves up before you feel toji’s dick pour the remnants of his cum flat on your tongue. “nah, don’t fuckin’ swallow yet. stick it out, lemme see that shit.”

your legs felt like they were about to fall off, sukuna’s kissing near your now swollen entrance and you slowly loll out your tongue. obeying, you didn’t exactly swallow yet and he hums. “best savor that shit,” he groans, giving his veiny cock a few subtle strokes before he smacks his angry tip against your tongue. “and where’s my thank you for the meal, baby?”

“t—thwak y—you toji,” you speak, barely coherent with his seed splattered all on your tongue. you didn’t wanna spill any, and if you did—you didn’t wanna stick around to find out his reaction.

“yeah,” he huffs. “you can swallow now. get every drop in.”

sukuna moves towards you, you’re still laid on the ring’s mat before he softly wraps a hand around your throat. “hey. don’t let this bastard have all the fun, i want a taste too,” and you're taken by surprise once he pulls you into a deep steamy kiss. you moan, feeling him quite literally take your breath away. your tongue drags against sukuna’s chin, the bitterness. a concoction mixture of your saliva and his mixes, and you whine once he snakes a hand up your blazer. you taste yourself on his tongue and it’s so dirty, hot breaths mash against each other, teeth gnashing, and only then do you feel his cunning smirk.

“no one told you to hog her,” toji grumbles, pulling you back towards him. you briefly gasp for air and they both stare at each other, then you. “tell me, baby. who’d you think win in a fight? me or this . . . thing.”

sukuna glares.

“i don’t … know,” you pant out, heaving from your current orgasm—so cute, yet you only wanted more. from kissing sukuna to having your throat entirely filled, you didn’t know which was better. “can we finish?”

“aw, is someone impatient?” sukuna titters, and you stare at his glistening body—beads of sweat race down his precious v-line, the ideal body for a boxer. you just couldn’t stop staring at his pecs, so chiseled. you even thought his pictures were edited, but seeing them up close . . you wanted him, you wanted both of them. “hm. how ‘bout this? we teach you a few ah, moves. full nelson to start, ‘s pretty easy.”

easy, sure.

with it all being easy, you’d least expect to be put into a full nelson position. a mere popular wrestling position, although you’d be performing it with no one other than sukuna.

he’d have you slump back against him, hooking both arms underneath your thighs as you’re taking such mean thrusts from him. time and time again, you’re spasming out. mouth all open, saliva running down the very corners of your lips before you moan. “s—sukuna, oh my godddd,” and you glance up at toji who’s got a cute pout, stroking himself. you lost count of the time, it’s probably been about a good thirty-three minutes by now, thirty plus minutes of various teeth shattering orgasms. your head hits back against him and each time his tip smacks against your cervix, you short circuit. “fuck, fuck, right there, hit it thereee.”

“you coachin’ me how to fuck, dumb girl?” he chortles with a groan shortly following—he was so deep, the heftiness of his base taps against you each time you bounce back against his cock. he sucks his teeth, the way you easily took him had him groaning all up against your ear. “gotta get a little more stretchy, we gotta . . hah, work on your flexibility too, huh.”

“sukuna hurry the fuck up. watching you fuck my girl ‘s boring as shit,” toji grouses, pumping his cock into his fist every few seconds—you stare and he’s so needy, you could tell. his scowl he had earlier forms into a cute pout, dark eyebrows furrowing together and he’s growing impatient.

you caught that though. ‘my’ girl.

who would have thought toji . . the womanizing boxer who’s never had time for any woman throughout his career would start batting for you?

“your girl?” sukuna snickers, resuming to hold your legs up a bit further. he reaches so deep, that your stomach starts to seize and your maw drops. hooded eyes, your lashes flutter and you felt continuous strained breaths get yanked from your lungs. “your girl yet she’s gettin’ fucked by me? the better boxer?”

toji snarls, and he kneels to kiss you. you moan, barely able to return the gesture since you were in the midst of taking sukuna. with being gifted with such sharp thrusts, you dig your nails into his thighs before running tangling your tongue alongside toji’s. his breath was warm, you whine once you feel one of his hands stroke your cheek.

“aha, look at him. already whipped before me,” sukuna snickers, feeling you sink and gape around him—he stretched you out so good already, it was so relentless. each time you bounce back against his lap, the ringing in your ears grows louder and louder. he feels his dick twitch inside you. seeing you make out with toji irks him a bit before he spanks your ass—the recoil making him even more aroused than before. sukuna hums, seeing the current pout on toji’s face before nodding, “aw. toji wants a turn too, yeah? don’t ya . . big guy?” and he intakes a breath, your pussy constricting around his length as sukuna pulls you further to slam back and forth against him. you’re moving against him now as his dick jackhammers right into your gummy was. your mouth idly dangles with your tongue stil shamelessly lolled out. a raw moan rips from the back of your throat at the pure feeling of utter bliss.

so thick, so girthy—you gasp once you feel his fingers tend towards your neglected tits. toji shortly follows, a hand going between your thighs. your cunt was all stuffed of sukuna, feeding your swollen pussy was so many inches. “hngh, f-fuck, fuckkk,” you’d whine between wet, saturated kisses. toji purposely feels against your folds, all stuffed and sopping wet. he rubs a thumb against your slick entrance as your legs were just about to give out. “toji, m-more. need you to touch me more.”

“you don’t need shit, little girl,” he corrects you, squeezing your lips together before presses a kiss against it. you moan, your ass stinging every few seconds from the stings of sukuna’s palm making direct contact against your ass cheek. spank after spank, oh how he adores the jiggle. he could watch it all day, even in slow motion if he could. “such a cute thing though, had the nerve to say you thought our training room was the fuckin’ ladies' room.”

you cringe once he repeats that. the same ringing going through your ears once more. your ears perk, hearing sukuna’s raspy grunts against the shells of your lobes before you start to stammer, “toji, touch me.”

“i’ll touch this messy body when i wanna,” he gruffs, leaning to nip kisses near your neck. sukuna’s still holding you up—you’re like a rag doll, eyes goggling from the stretch before you start to feel it. not your orgasm, but something entirely different. it was a new type of pressure, sweet whiny moans emit out of you before you feel sukuna’s rude tip thrash against your g-spot again, and again, and again..

toji’s thumb softly strokes underneath your neck as he pulls you into a short kiss. you whimper, pulling away before spreading your legs a bit further.

“i— something’s coming, i f-feel tingly.”

sukuna roughly laughs against your ear, seemingly getting what you were implying. “yeah, gonna make another mess on us, princess? oh. i mean on me, heh?”

you shudder, your pussy feeling entirely stuffed and your eyes merely roll way back. he fit nice and snug, you bare around him before a whine drags out your throat. so deep, so so deep, you’re spasming—each relentless piston of his hips makes you whine louder. a feeling that was purely euphoric welts right against you, and you’re laid all back against sukuna’s bare chest, riding him in reverse. “c-choke me, ‘kuna, choke me, please.”

“want me to put you in a headlock, yeah,” he whispers to you in a rough low voice. you moan, feeling him lick against your earlobe before toji strokes your cheek. you could tell he wanted a turn too, the pout on his lips stretching even further. you’re nodding against him before your cunt gapes more. “sure. i’ll let you in on what my opponents feel, pretty girl.”

you moan, his voice was so low up against your ear, you’re about to cum. or were you, you swallow thickly despite having a sudden dry throat— voice all raspy and strained from moaning for such a duration that your head’s woozy. it feels too good, your thighs ache and quaver before you feel a beefy arm wrap around your neck. “upsie daisy, thereee we go,” and he scoots you on his lap just a bit farther. he’s buried to the hilt. you moan, toji pulling you into the nth kiss of the night, lips moving in pure tandem. just when you’re about to finish, you feel him rub against your stuffed cunt once more. yet that’s only when you decide to move your hands towards the boxers . . . nipples.

“t-the fuck,” he grunts in a hoarse tone, his voice was suddenly a bit shaky. it was cute—you couldn’t lie to yourself, you found yourself staring at toji’s chest way more often than you should. practically always shirtless, his pecs were huge. such pink swollen nipples, you slide a thumb against it and he shivers from your touch. “fuckin’ weirdo. ‘m sensitive there, s-shit.”

he doesn’t tell you to stop—instead, he grips your hair not so tightly but firmly. you look up at him, speaking in a tiny yet sheepish tone. “can— can i?”

“can ya what?” he grits, watching as sukuna continues to feed your cunt of his cock — you were just about to burst, you felt it and your toes clench and curl all up. so cute.

with a thumb still sliding against his pecs tenderly, you murmur. dilated pupils flicker towards his chest, then back up at him. “. . can,” you huff out in short breaths, tummy seizing, breathing hot and heavy. “can i suck on them?”

“no you can’t fuckin’ suck on them. what kinda question is tha—”

“toji, don’t be fuckin’ mean. you claim she’s your girl so let her suck your tits, big guy.” sukuna chimes in, releasing his soft grip against your neck. you gasp, leaning way back against him now. he was so warm pent up against you—you whimper out, sukuna leans against your ear and he starts to talk you through your incoming orgasm. “right? wanna make toji a little whiny bitch?”

“shut the fuck up,” he rasps, and his pecs literally stare at you—so beefy, you could have sworn they twitched. he groans, watching you give him such eyes before he inches closer towards you, bending down. “…….fine. whatever.”

still grinding against sukuna’s lap, you hold toji’s pecs before latching your tongue against it. his face scrunches up and it’s so cute, for whatever reason, the way your tongue curls against his perky nipples feels … good. awkwardly, he pulls your head closer towards his chest, eyeing closely as you briefly start to suck. as usual, you were so sloppy too—moaning up against his sensitive skin, rolling your tongue all against his nipple.

“nasty little g—girl,” he chokes out.

you glance up at him, parting your lips away before he makes you go back to tending to his tense nipples. “i didn’t tell you to stop. use y’er fuckin’ tongue some more. and stare at me while you do that . . . weird shit.”

toji’s voice significantly pitches and you’re so into it that you don’t even realize that before you know it, you end up squirting. everything comes at once, you’re pulsing with sukuna’s cock still twitching vigorously inside you and you whimper, mouth still sucking onto toji’s tits nipples. low laughter could be heard from behind you, and it’s all so much. your pussy was equivalent to a waterpark, gushing out all into sukuna’s lap. “fuckkk, princess,” he chortles, slowing down your hips and he ends up finishing a few seconds after you.

when he came inside, it came out quite a lot too. a hefty amount, it came out in ropes to where he paints the entirety of your womb. so warm from the inside, your tummy briefly caves in and your legs felt like mush.

“heh, did you just squirt?” sukuna points out, cock still twitching inside but he just lies still. you’re stretched out literally on the mat, seeing pure stars— the lights of the arena merely blinding you before you lie back against him. “a squirter and you’re tapping out already? aw boo. ‘n here i thought you could handle a few more rounds in the ring, princess.”

“i— i can,” you protest, parting your lips away from toji’s sheeny pecs. your lips were spit-glossed, he stared at you before squatting down to stare at the mess right between your legs. so messy, sukuna lifts you off of him and it just pours right down between your thighs. “i can go for more.”

toji hums, taking a quick three-second glance at his watch. “five fuckin’ minutes, ‘s all you’ll get with . . me,” and it’s cute because a mere pink forms on his face.

he’s still embarrassed from you sucking on his nipples that he tries to act all tough—but that only makes his tone quaver even more. “match’s gonna start soon. sukuna, let’s take her both.”

he snickers, pulling your shirt that was tucked underneath your blazer all the way up.

“both?” and sukuna lifts you to sit on top of toji, straddling him. you were being preparing to be overly stuffed with not one but two cocks. you fall face forward into toji’s broad chest, the coldness of his chain that wraps around his neck brushes against your skin before he helps you align yourself.

you moan, feeling sukuna get behind too—you gulp, toji’s fondling your breasts that almost poke out through your unbuttoned shirt whilst sukuna was behind. you’d be taking them both— one in each hole. “can you handle us both at the same time, pretty girl? toji’s known for his record of lasting a good ah . . . two solid rounds.”

toji glares, feeling himself start to open you up again. with his plump crownhead of his cock, he splits you open, and he is a tad thicker than sukuna—you moan, wrapping flimsy arms around him before sukuna enters from behind with toji focusing on the front. “shut up. you say that ‘n act like i won’t k.o. you right now.”

“oh yeah?” sukuna cavils, and you gasp, landing on the cold canvas with an 'oof' once the boxer lightly places you down. you pout—glancing up at the two of them who were having a face off at a time like this. sukuna already pulled out and they stared each other down before toji slyly smiles. “is that a fact?” and for a brief moment, he leers down at toji’s sheeny lips— the dark-haired boxer slides his tongue against his scar before humming.

“don’t play, you know it is,” he replies, giving you one ogle before turning back towards his rival. “y’know, ‘kuna. you sure talk a lot of shit but you couldn’t even pin me down if you tried.”

sukuna rasps lowly, inching closer before they were inches apart—you thought they were gonna kiss at this rate. oh, something like this would be such a good inspiration for the headlines.

“if you wanted my attention, should have said so,” sukuna sneers, rubbing his hand that was carefully wrapped up in a white bandage against his slim torso. “besides, i think we all know who can last more rounds.”

“did you two just forget about me—?” you furrow your eyebrows, literally still soaked and laid against the corner of the ring. they shoot you a glance before turning back towards each other.

toji scoffs back at sukuna, ignoring you. “prove it then. pin me the fuck down, hot shot.”

“bend the fuck over then, big guy. we’ll show the pretty journalist who’s gonna win this night’s match. round fuckin’ one.”

#★vegasbaby. #toji x reader #toji smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #toji fushiguro smut #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna ryomen x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #anime smut #female reader #jjk drabbles #cw sex mention #cw breeding

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐈 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 ❞

❝ PROF. GETO'S CLASS IS SO HARD, BUT HE'S SO HOT!! ❞

✧ pairing: professor!geto x f!reader (part one of the prof geto series)

✧ summary: you were a 4.0, straight A student, until professor geto's class, the same far too hot ethics professor fawned over by faculty and students alike. you didn't understand what was so special about him...until you start having dreams about him.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, a lot of smut (mostly fantasy), depictions of student/teacher relationship (only ok in fiction not irl!!!), reader is a grad student in my mind, but age is vague, masturbation (f + m), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), getting off to his voice in recorded lectures, arousal from reading his writing, amateur's take on moral philsophy and ethics, art by @/jatinsohanvi, google scholar graphic by platonic loml @laneysmusings

✧ wc: 10,149 (i have a problem) | part two

“You’re late,” 

Your first impression of Professor Suguru Geto’s class was that you could never be late again, unless you would like to be chided in front of all your peers for your tardiness. 

Your first impression of Professor Suguru Geto himself was that he was truly the most breathtaking man you’d ever laid your eyes on. His inky black locks tied into a neat bun, his deep royal purple vest buttoned over a crisp white button up with pressed gray slacks, his pretty lips pressed in a small frown, as his dark gaze pierced through you. And you don’t know what stirs in your chest — a fleeting moment that is tucked away under a bite of your bottom lip and burning cheeks. 

And now you knew why when you had walked into class, the amount of unfamiliar faces in this course had far outnumbered the ones in your usual course load — the same reason why this man undoubtedly had three chili peppers next to his professor rating on some website out there. 

And now you were faced with him staring you down as you stumbled down the stairs of the all too full lecture hall. 

As you muttered apologies, and took your seat far too close to the front of the class, smack dab in the very front of the very same professor whose eyes still were concentrated on you, before sliding back to the class at large. 

“Now, where were we?” he says, continuing the lecture. 

Ethics was not your major — you were a philosophy grad student, and although the two went hand in hand — no, they were not the same thing. Ethics are the moral principles — like rules to follow to live a moral life — people can follow, while philosophy is the study of knowledge, reality, and existence. And this class encompassed both — an ethics and moral philosophy class. Your eyes slid around the room — and compared to all the random majors stuffed into this classroom, you had no doubt you’d do well. Your eyes met Professor Geto’s — maybe one slight doubt. 

And when you get your first essay back, you eagerly flip to the last page of the paper, wondering what accolades and compliments you’d receive this time. Your eyes find the grade, and your stomach drops, a gaping maw that consumes you from the inside out. 

You got a B. 

A B+ — an 88 on your paper in this course, and you stared at the grade on the very last page of the paper you had collected from his desk — Professor Geto had insisted everyone submit their papers both physically and electronically — his scrawl in red pen littered each page of what you thought was a thoughtful and even clever paper on the existence free will and the ethical and moral dilemmas that surround it. And he had given it an 88. 

You had a 4.0 point average — you had gotten the highest scores in some of the most difficult courses required by your major, and now you were going to be derailed by a class you took on a whim? That’s not happening. No, you were going to get him to change your grade. You were seeing as red as the ink that tore your paper to shreds. 

“Come in,” your knuckles had rapped against Professor Geto’s door, your heart in your throat, as you heard his reply, entering his office. His office was as pretentious as he was. A much larger office than you had seen before (poor Professor Ijichi had a shoebox of an office), while Professor Geto’s was three times the size, outfitted with large, beautiful windows, distinct bookshelves, and even a lovely deep mahogany colored couch with decorative cushions. And you knew why that was the case — Professor Geto was an expert in his field, revered, even at his relatively young age. And the university had coveted him, and managed to lure him to work behind these ivy covered walls. While other professors who have been here longer are stuck with offices that don’t begin to compare. 

Academia was truly hell. 

And yet, Professor Geto seemed to rule over it with an iron fist. Even now, you found your professor looking as annoyingly perfect as ever — his elbow resting against his desk, pen in his other hand, as he flipped through more papers on his desk, his hair in a messy bun, a few black strands falling across his furrowed brow, his pretty lips pursed in concentration, and his dark gaze flicks up from his work to you, and his lips curl, your name leaving his lips, “good to see you, please sit,” 

You had planned to attend these office hours in victory, to apologize for your misstep in the first class, and let your professor praise your paper to no end — but instead you were going to see why your paper was graded so harshly. 

Your speech was ready, you were going to lay it out, you had the perfect explanation and the excellent reasoning “Professor Geto—” 

“I know why you’re here,” he cuts you off, lips forming in an utterly condescending smile, “you want to discuss your paper, correct?” 

“I am, I wanted to—” 

He sits forward in his chair, setting down his pen, “I’m going to save us some time by explaining my comments on your paper, do you have it?” and you close your mouth, pulling the paper out of your folder and handing it to him, “Your paper was one of the best in the class — it was thought provoking, grounded in research, persuasive, even made me consider some points I hadn’t before—” 

You blink, his praise catching you off guard, your thoughts twisting in on themselves, “Then why did you give me B?” 

“You didn’t allow me to finish,” he sighs, as he flips through your paper, looking up to meet your gaze,  “your paper was excellent when it came to philosophical concepts, but your ethical conclusions on the other hand, could use some work,” 

You gaped at him, “What did I possibly—” 

“To put it simply, you were trying to use your knowledge of philosophy to cover up your lack of knowledge in the field of ethics,” 

“I wasn’t—” 

“And that’s okay, because that means I have something to teach you don’t I? That’s why you’re in this course, to learn,” he gives a tight lipped smile, tilting his head. Oh you’d like to learn a lot more from him — like the ethical dilemma of wanting to murder your professor, “and I’m here to teach — and this paper is a teaching moment — and from your expression, I assume you didn’t read the comments I left in detail,” 

And your cheeks burn, as your eyes fall away from him, “Not fully in detail,” you still swallow your shame, and meet his gaze, “I don’t mean to be a bother, Professor, but how can my paper still receive a B — I’ve never received that low of a score on any single paper—” 

“There’s a first time for everything,” and you have to bite back your retort, “yeah first time having an annoying prick for a professor,” and he rises from his desk to hand you back your paper, “the bottom line is, I know you’re capable of better, this class isn’t going to be easy — I’m not going to hand you accolades for no reason. You have to earn them — if you aren’t up for the challenge, you can drop the class.” 

The option was there — you could simply drop the course, rid yourself of Professor Geto and his ridiculous criticism forever. You could take a class with one of the many professors who delighted in your papers (even the ones you’d written at 3 AM and submitted not proofread), and go on with your life and preserve your 4.0 GPA with ease. 

But then you looked at him again. He was unfairly hot, even when he was fucking putting you down, he stood in front of you, offering your paper, his fingers long and thick brushing yours by mistake as you took back your paper, a watch on his wrist gleamed in the low light of his office. You glanced around his office, saw the awards on his walls, pictures of him giving lectures or receiving honors, and the books that lined his shelves weren’t dissimilar to your own academic shelf at home. And your eyes fell back to his, as he stared at you curiously, lips pursed, as your paper slightly crumples in your fist. 

“Next paper is due in two weeks?” and he pauses, before his lips curl in that same grin. 

“Yes it is,” and a smile graces your lips, lightning quick.

Like hell you were going to let him win. You were going to get him to praise your papers (and maybe that wouldn’t be the only thing he praised) — if it was the last thing you do. You’d get an A in his class, hell, you’d get him to beg you to be his teaching assistant (he’d look very nice on his knees for you, wouldn’t he?). 

You rise from your seat, and grab your bag, “I’ll see you at your next office hours then, to discuss my paper topic,” and he watches you leave, his eyes piercing into your back as you do. 

“See you soon.” 

Oh, he would. 

“Right on time,” Professor Geto barely looks up now when you knock on his door, his door now always ajar for office hours. 

Now you had made a habit of showing up for his office hours, you’d bring your paper topic all picked out, along with your handpicked sources you had chosen for your paper, all typed up in a neat bibliography. And he’d kindly rip it apart with that same damn smile on his lips. It had been a few weeks, a few papers later — and you finally had worked your grade up to an A-, not quite an A+, but you’d get there. You had to. 

Because it wasn’t just about your GPA now — you were going to get Professor Geto to praise you — through any means necessary. The man was stubborn, even when you’d come back with an improved draft, he’d only hand it back to you with a smile barely tugging at the corner of his lips, with no compliment to be had — only small check marks scribbled in the margins in your papers, with the occasional “good” written next to it. 

“Well, we all know what happens when I’m late,” he laughs, a noise that makes the ice dagger clutched behind your back ever so slightly melt, “I made you laugh, extra credit?” 

And he rolls his eyes, and you notice that his dark eyes are hidden behind glasses today — and god, why does it only make him even more gorgeous? He’s already brilliant, it’s unfair for him to look as if he was sculpted by the gods as well, “It takes a lot more than a chuckle to earn extra credit,” and you can’t help but bite your lip. 

No, no, he’s the worst. It didn’t matter he was the epitome of every academic’s wet dream, you were above that. You had a goal. 

“So, can we discuss my next paper?” you hand him your bibliography, and he takes it, delicate fingers flipping through, your mind notes the absence of a ring on either hand, before brushing the thought aside. 

“You’re writing on the morality of good or bad actions,” he hums, as he looks over the sources you had chosen, “Scanlon, good — have you read—” 

“‘What We Owe to Each Other?’ Only about a million times — well more like six,” and he nods appreciatively, “of course you’ve read it,” 

“I didn’t just read it, I wrote a paper on it, similar to yours, actually,” and your eyes flick up to meet his, he’s leaning forward in his chair, red pen in hand, as he scribbles notes in the margins, as well as on the back of your bibliography, “of course I don’t have your penchant for rambling,” 

You pout, “I don’t ramble — I like to make my point—” 

“Many times, and the same one,” and your mouth opens, only to find a wry smirk on his lips, “I’m teasing, another one of my very tedious qualities, and how you stand it during class astonishes me,” 

You cross your arms, unable to meet his eyes, as you choose to stare at your bibliography instead, “You’re not completely tedious, more like irritating,” and he huffs a chuckle. 

You had to admit, begrudgingly, Professor Geto was a…good teacher. And you had your fair share of awful teachers — many of them were brilliant, accomplished people in their fields, but didn’t know how to translate and convey that in their lectures to students who simply knew less than them. But Geto…he knew how to break down complex concepts and theories of moral philosophy and ethics to a science, he knows how to make students understand these complicated topics that you had seen other professors fail to, and he does it while being an intellectual dreamboat to most of his students — the ones that swarm his desk after class, still there even as you slowly make your way out of the lecture hall. 

“A rare compliment from you,” he raises an eyebrow, “I’m touched,” 

“You’re one to talk,” you furrow your brow, and a smile pulls at his lips. 

“Didn’t know you wanted my approval,” he tilts his head, leaning forward to lean on his elbow on the desk, “well, you have improved remarkably in the class so far, and if you keep going like this, I may have no choice but to praise you,” 

“You will,”

“Someone is very sure of themselves,” a pause and then he adds with a quirk of his lips, “as you should be,” and he’s sliding your bibliography across the table again, and passes it back, “read the sources I recommended, and see about adding them to your paper — you may have some overlap in the other papers you chose so use your discretion on which ones you use,” 

“So don’t repeat myself?” You raise an eyebrow, and he leans back in his chair, crossing his legs. 

“You learn fast.” 

And you do — returning to your apartment to work on your paper, as you flip through his notes — as much as you hate to admit it, his notes and criticism did help — annoyingly so. He was far more detailed and perceptive than any other professor you had. Most had let you skate by without a second thought, and you wrote papers like you deleted your internet history after a scandalous romp through elicit websites — tools, clear history — and then onto the next paper or exam. But Professor Geto forced you to face your shortcomings, face the things that you didn’t like to give a second glance to, lest your rejection sensitive self feel the agony of having to deal with criticism. 

Each time you did it, you got a little better, and he had a little less to say — time and time again. 

You leaned back on your bed, scrolling through the papers he recommended, but so what? So what if he was a good teacher? Doesn’t mean he has to be as infuriating as he is — he knew exactly what to do to get under your skin, and he didn’t prod at it, he scratched it. 

And you found yourself typing his name (“suguru geto”) and T.M. Scanlon’s name into the search bar of your university’s library collection, and his paper pops up right on top. 

You stare at the paper for a good minute, before you click on it — and you start reading. And reading. And reading — and fuck— 

It was good. It was more than that — it gave you so much insight on this topic, it made you rediscover T.M. Scanlon’s work in a new light — and you bite your lip. And it wasn’t just the research — the way it organized, the way it was presented, the way it was written — it was eloquent, but it wasn’t unreadable or incomprehensible. It was…really good. 

You imagined him, pouring over Scanlon’s work as he wrote notes in the margins of his copy, pages dogeared and passages highlighted, as he sat in his office typing away at this paper. His sleeves rolled up, his hair let out of his usual bun, his glasses perched on his nose as he read, only his desk lamp and computer illuminating his office. The keys of his computer clacking under his touch, lengthy fingers pitter pattering as he wrote his thoughts and analysis of Scanlon’s work — his brow furrowed in thought. 

And you felt yourself flush, swallowing the lump in your throat, as you kicked off your blanket — it was so warm all of a sudden, pressing your thighs together. You shook the thoughts from your mind — what the hell were you doing? You glanced at the time, 2:39 AM it read back at you mockingly. You sigh, shutting your laptop down, and putting it aside — you need to do your skincare and brush your teeth. You glance back at your laptop—the familiar of your flush clung to your skin like a forbidden kiss— 

And you clearly needed sleep. 

“Can you read this passage to me?” Professor Geto’s voice said, as he stood in front of you in the lecture hall — as you stood behind the podium that faced the entire class — hands in his pockets, in an olive henley, his hair tied in the usual neat bun, his black bangs falling in his eyes as always, glasses on, instead of the usual contacts. The class sat all around you — his exercise in getting the class to participate and get comfortable speaking in front of others, just as philosophers had done in the past (his very own “literary salon” he called it). 

You swallow, keeping your eyes fixed on the book in front of you, “‘When I ask myself what reason the fact that an action would be wrong provides me with not to do it, my answer is that such an action would be one that I could not justify to others on ground I could expect them to accept—’” 

“What do you think Scanlon meant by this?” he asks you, but his gaze was different this time, it held the amusement it always did when it came to you, but it was warm — no — it was burning. His lips were pursed, as he crossed his arms, the henley’s fabric seemingly straining under the action. 

“He meant that an action that is wrong in his eyes when he couldn’t expect others to accept the ground on which he could justify it,” and his lips curve into that damned smile, as he takes a few steps closer, rounding the podium, as he brushes past you, the brief touch of temptation incarnate — the dangling apple of Tantalus personified before you. 

“And can you give me some examples of what kinds of actions would be wrong?” and he’s standing behind you now, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him — but you can feel his gaze on you. 

“Senseless murder,” and he hums in approval, his breath felt like it was warming your skin, “wanton violence, reckless assault—” 

“What other everyday wrongdoings could fall under this category?” and suddenly the class before you is gone, and it’s just the two of you in an empty lecture hall, “theft, lying, student-teacher relationships?” 

And your breath catches in your throat, his cologne strangling any sense left in your mind, as his body heat nearly radiates off him, “Professor Geto—” 

“Suguru,” he corrects you, and he’s reaching for you, but he pauses, “can I—” and you only can nod, and his fingers brush your hair aside, ever so gently, “would this be considered a moral wrongness, sweetheart?” his lips press a chaste kiss to your shoulder, and you shiver at the softness of his touch. 

“Well, I am a student in your class, and even though I’m of age, it presents a power dynamic and a favoritism that might be—” and your sentence cuts off as his arms wind their way around your waist, pressing himself to your back, “I—” 

“Go on,” he’s murmuring his words against the nape of your neck now, as he pulls his glasses off to place them on the podium, “might be what?” 

“Might be viewed as morally wrong—” and he’s chuckling, the vibration sending a delicious shiver down your spine, as he presses more butterfly kisses to your neck. 

“How can something be wrong when it feels so right?” he asks, and his hand is sliding down your side, “feels so good, does it even matter what society views as right or wrong? Do their rules pertain to what we’re doing here?” and his fingers toy with the hem of your pants, teasing and pulling, as he pauses, waiting for your answer, “what do you think—” 

“Please,” you swallow, as you turn to look at him, seeing his lips in that same smile that haunted you, “touch me,” 

And his smile only grows wider, “Good girl.” 

BUZZ. BUZZ. BUZZ. 

Your eyes flutter open, your breath caught in your throat, as you stare at your ceiling, your hand reaching for your phone to silence the alarm. And you squeeze your thighs together, a distinct ache between your legs, your skin all too warm. 

What the fuck was that? 

You skip office hours the next week. You couldn’t bear it — you could barely tolerate going to class now, as the dream invades your nights, with filthy variations that leave you perturbed and horny (mostly horny). The common theme only being that each time you get close to anything remotely that’s anything (a kiss, a touch that’s more than a caress, anything at all), you wake up. 

It’s as if your dreams are edging you — you groan into your pillow — and it was working. 

You’re so wound up, you’ve even resorted to using your vibrator before bed, wondering if that would make a difference — it did, but only with you having a dream of Professor Geto using a vibrator on you during class — the vibrations growing even faster when you were speaking as he watched you— 

You needed to stop thinking about this. But how can you? 

God, it’s even worse when you’re in class. You sit in your usual seat, front and center — and why does it feel like his eyes are on you far too often? Even as he lectures Professor Geto attempts to catch your eye during his lecture, trying to make a point, you all but glue your gaze down to the textbook and your laptop, typing away his words, trying to drown out the whispered words and groans from your dream that ring in your ears. You can’t stop seeing him — unless you want to skip class, which you really couldn’t when attendance and participation counted for a good chunk of your grade. 

Class ended and you were packing up your things. You had to weather the storm — avoid being alone with him until the dreams were just a distant memory— 

And then you heard him say your name— 

Your eyes flick up to meet Professor Geto — who had his usual swarm of students waiting by his desk, but he parted the crowd, he approached your own seat, hands in your pockets, “Do you have a class after this?” 

“No, I don’t—” the words slip out before your sleep deprived mind can put the pieces together. 

“Then can you please stay after class? I’d like to talk to you,” he says, and before you can say anything, he turns to speak to the students waiting for him. 

And now you wait — your anxious energy singing at the frayed ends of your nerves, as you tried to hold yourself together — wondering what he could possibly want to speak to you about. His students dissipated one by one, until it was just you and him left in the lecture hall. 

Just. Like. Your. Fucking. Dream. 

You round the row you sat in, before walking down to speak to him, “Is there something wrong? The next paper isn’t due until the end of next week—” 

“It isn’t about the paper,” and your heart squeezes, as you try to keep your breathing even, as he steps closer — and why, why did he have to opt to only wear a button up today —  and a deep royal purple one no less,  “I wanted to check in with you,” and he begins to undo the cuffs of his shirt, rolling them up — exposing his forearms and the pretty veins that ran along them — the same arms that he had used in one of your dreams to bend you over that desk, the whispers of heated kisses along your neck—

You needed to get out of here. 

You blink, “I’m fine,” and he tilts his head. 

“I only ask because you’ve looked tired the last two classes, and you didn’t show up for office hours this week,” he crosses his arms, unhelpfully, as he purses his lips, the lines of his brow furrowed. 

“I’m fine, Professor, I appreciate your concern — I just haven’t been sleeping well,” you admit — it was the truth, “and that’s why I didn’t come to office hours. I was trying to catch up on sleep,” 

He nods, sighing, fingers raking through his hair — those same fingers that would feel so pretty around your neck— “I know I’m hard on you,” oh he would be, “but it’s because I know you’re capable of more — most of these students are taking the class for an elective, but I know it’s more than that for you,” yes, it’s so you can finally earn his praise, “but I’m also here for your benefit, so if you need an extension or anything else, please let me know,” 

God, all you wanted was for him to maybe wrap you in his arms and kiss you, or bend you over, pull your clothes off and fuck you, or just to leave you alone all together. 

You weren’t sure which one you wanted the most at this moment. 

“I will, Professor Geto, I appreciate it,” you murmur, biting your lip, as you try to focus on the task at hand — getting out of here, “I don’t think I need an extension, I’ve made good progress so far. I just need to finish it, so I can revise,”

“Well, let me know if anything changes,” his lips curl, “ok?” And you nod, and if you weren’t so hyperaware, you swore you would have imagined it — but you didn’t, “good girl,” 

And you pause a moment — his lips did move, you pinch yourself discreetly — and you know it isn’t a fucking dream. You only smile in return, giving a curt nod and goodbye, before beelining out of the classroom. 

But you didn’t stick around long enough to see the slight flush on Professor Geto’s cheeks — nor did you know that you two were thinking the same thing about yourselves— 

What the fuck were you doing? 

But to your relief, the dreams do subside, and you’re finally able to rest — but the thing that doesn’t subside is your awareness of your professor. 

You sit in class, watching him teach — and you knew he was attractive, hell, it was one of the things that made you all the more embarrassed to have him ream you out — having your super hot professor rail at you for your mistakes wasn’t on your list of shining achievements (lest it was him actually railing you—). 

You needed to stop doing that. 

But it felt as if you weren’t the only one who was hyper aware. You felt as if his eyes skimmed over you during class this week, his replies to your weekly discussion board were less biting than usual, and his office hours were surprisingly canceled this week. First time all semester, but you weren’t so full of yourself that you thought it had anything to do with you — right? 

Either way, you had submitted your paper and now you were done with this week—and as class finishes, you slowly pack up, looking forward to the week being over with and for a personal rendezvous with your bed. But as the usual gaggle of students make their way to chat with Professor Geto, your eyes flicker up to meet his, as he stares back a moment. 

And you can’t make yourself look away, and for a moment, neither can he. 

But then a student calls for his attention, so his eyes flicker away, a smile on his lips as he spoke — and you turn to leave, grabbing your bag, as you look back— 

But why did his smile look so strained? 

There must be something wrong with him. 

Professor Suguru Geto drummed his fingers against his desk, but he felt more like shoving his things off his desk — if only to distract him for a moment. He pulls his glasses off, and runs a hand down his face—god, he hadn’t been sleeping well. No, his nights were plagued, plagued by you — you had slipped into his dreams ever since that day he stopped you. 

Why had he stopped you? 

It wasn’t the first time he had personally stopped a student who seemed to be struggling, he could count the times he had on both his hands. 

But this, this felt different. 

You were different. 

But why were you different to him? He rubs his temples, from the moment you had stepped into his office he thought he had read you — an overachieving student used to getting their way, As handed out to them, and an inability to take criticism. 

He knew, because he used to be one of them. But he knew you needed to be challenged to grow — but it was a matter if you would accept it. And from the moment you asked him when the next paper was due, he couldn’t help but smile. 

And his time spent in office hours with you grew more enjoyable each time you came. And when you hadn’t last week, he couldn’t sit still, checking the time, checking his email, and even checking if his office hours had been accidentally listed wrong in his weekly email to the class (they weren’t). And the hour and half passed with many students hungry for his time and his charm  — but not the  one he was looking for. 

Then those words had slipped from his tongue when he had stopped you, left his mouth like he was possessed, and now he had found himself here. Found himself thinking about how your lips parted when he said it, thinking about how you were feeling, thinking about you, you, you— 

There’s a knock at the door, “Professor Geto?” 

And it was you. 

“I apologize, I know you canceled office hours, but I just had a few questions I didn’t get to ask you in class,” your fingers toy with the ring you wore, a folder in hand, a soft smile on your lips. 

“Of course, come in,” and you did, your dress was painfully short, the fabric riding up as you sat, the folder in your lap, “is this about your paper?” 

“It is, I was reading a few papers, and after our conversation, I couldn’t help but find your paper,” and he tilts his head, “and I want to include it as a source in my paper, but I had a few points you made that I wanted clarified,” 

He raises an eyebrow, and he can’t help but tease,  “Clarified or criticized? Are you planning on turning the tables on me?” 

“Well I do have a red pen,” you click your pen, lips curved in a smile, and there’s a hint of heat that he wishes to unearth, pluck from the earth and possess himself, “but I promise I’ll be civil,”

 “I have no doubt,” he had a million when it came to you — but that wasn’t one of them. He runs his fingers through his hair, a few strands coming loose, “of course, let’s discuss it,” 

“You discuss Scanlon’s idea of a social contract, everyone within this moral society agrees on what’s right and what’s wrong — the basic principle is that if there is a rule no one can reasonably reject as a basis, but is there such a rule that can exist?” 

He tilts his head, “Scanlon’s theory relies on this premise — are you questioning me or the premise?” 

“Both, actually,” you shrug, crossing your legs, “is there a magic switch that changes every person to be rational? Because I think only rational people can agree on what rules cannot be reasonably rejected — what about people who are cruel, inconsiderate, self-absorbed? Do those traits go away when operating under Scanlon’s social contract? You propose in your paper that moral reasons are not subjective — nothing is uncolored by human opinion,” 

“No, but—” 

“How can we agree on what is truly right or wrong? How can one hundred people agree on that when everyone views these actions in different ways? Right and wrong? Black, white, or gray?” you rise from your chair to hand him his paper printed out, the paper more red than white with the amount of writing you’ve done, “like for example,” you lean forward, your hand braced against the edge of his desk, “can one hundred people agree that student-teacher relationships are wrong? Because one veto,” your hand trails ever closer to his, toeing that dangerous line either of you had even yet to approach to cross. But here you were, seemingly barreling toward it. 

And he didn’t want to pull away. 

He swallows, whispering your name, “This can’t—” and you were so close — too close, your perfume hypnotized him, your fingers brush against his and he can’t help but hold them, his thumb rubbing across your knuckles, “they can agree that it’s wrong — the power imbalance from the authority of the professor and the age difference—” 

“I disagree, so the rule isn’t legitimate, right? Even if one disagrees, the rule cannot be make valid,” and his breath catches as your fingers slide up his arm now, resting on his shoulder, as you lean over his chair now, as your other hand toys with the loose strands of his hair, “if the two of us can’t even agree, then how could a hundred, or a thousand, or a million?” 

“But—” 

“But what?” you pout, your fingers dragging down his chest, toying with the top button of his button down, “I don’t see you pulling away, do you want me to stop, Professor? Because I will,” 

And he swallows thickly, but he can’t stop you — he doesn’t want to, “But, we shouldn’t — it isn’t a reasonable objection—” he tries his hardest to stand firm, but he only crumbles when your fingers brush his cheek, tracing the cut of his jaw. And it feels like flames tickling at his skin, begging him to thrust his hand into the fire. 

“Like I said, people are not reasonable,” your lips draw closer, and he can feel your breath warm his own, and god, why are you so tempting? And your lips stop short, barely an inch between your faces, “and besides, would you rather be reasonable or satisfied?” 

And there’s only one answer — you. 

He leans forward, lips nearly brushing yours— 

RING. RING. RING.

He jerks awake from his desk, papers sliding as he does, his breath caught in his throat, and his eyes wander — and finds no one else there. 

A dream. He runs his fingers through his hair again, crumpling the paper he had oh so lovingly drooled during his nap. He needed to get his shit together. 

But his current predicament wasn’t making that easy — his cock strained against the fabric of his pants — was he a grown adult or a horny teenager? 

Fuck. It wasn’t going away — no matter what he thought, his mind kept circling back to you. 

And his eyes slide to the time: 1:40 AM. 

Far past the time any soul would be here, even cleaning staff would have been long gone. It was just him—

And you. 

“So good for me, baby,” he’s panting, palming his erection, an embarrassing amount of precum drips from his cock for a barely wet dream. He ignores the gnawing guilt in the back of his mind — but he can’t help but imagine the image of you, spread out on his desk, hiking that oh so teasing sundress up, only to find your underwear drenched — just for him. 

His fingers would slide up your plush thighs, squeezing to draw a gasp from your pretty lips, “Professor—“ you’d say, unable to form a sentence, all those brilliant falling away under his touch, until it was just him occupying every crevice of your mind. 

“Where’s that mouth now? So needy f’me,” he’d murmur, “but such a good girl,” and you were, his thumb tracing his slit, smearing his pre-cum, as he imagined you spread on his desk, your puffy folds nearly showing through your far too translucent panties, “my best student’s so pliant for me now,”

And his hand moves faster, and he can imagine your fingers reaching for him too, your smaller fingers wouldn’t be able to even touch as much as he can — but god it would feel so much better. 

But he’d want you to feel even better than he did.  

He’d tug your underwear down, stuffing it in his pocket (his fee for all of additional office hours), and he would prep you right — fuck you open with his fingers, two or three, before he tasted you. Your fingers would dig into his scalp as you moaned his name again and again, before you came all over his face. 

He’d lick his lips clean of your release, before dragging his cock down your sweet cunt, watching his precum mix with your cum, as your walls flutter around nothing, craving to have him sink into you. 

“Professor, please,” you’d beg with pretty, kiss bitten lips between pants, “please,” 

“Where’s all those quips now, sweetheart?” he’d tease, as he would let his tip tease your clit, pulling a moan from your lips, “all those words fall away when you want this cock, don’t they? Been thinking about you like this, wondering what you’d look like spread out under me,” and he would lean down to kiss you, “it’s even better than I expected,”

He’s jerking himself off in earnest now, the lewd noises of his hand around his cock filling most of the silence, his low groans filling the rest. And he’d finally sink into you, inch by inch, until he’d kiss your cervix with his weeping tip. 

And, god, he wishes his fingers fisted around his cock would be as good as your cunt would feel around him. He would fuck you slow at first, “I know those boys can’t fuck you as good as I can, as well as I can,” he’d tell you, as he would pick up the pace when you’d tell him to, making you cum again and again with his cock, thumb rubbing at your clit, until he was finally close. He’d either cum all over your stomach, marking you with his release, or if you’d let him, he’d cum inside you, filling you with his seed—and then he’d watch it drip out when he would pull out. He groans your name lowly, shuddering as he comes all over his hand, hard. 

Fuck. 

That’s the hardest he’d cum in a long time. He’s a mess — panting and flushed, as he leans back, head against the back of his  chair, too spent to even clean up. And then he finally does, cleaning himself up well, and collecting his things to leave the office. 

But he only treated the symptoms, not the problem itself. His hard-on is gone, but his mind is still filled with thoughts of you. How he’d kiss you sweetly after, how he’d clean you up, care for you gently, make you rest because you never seem to do enough of that, and he’d let you relax — finally relax, as you slept the night in his arms. 

As he heads to his car, he knows that he’s utterly fucked (without even being fucked) because he has feelings for you. And he didn’t know if they were going to go away as easily as he hoped. 

But he hoped they would. He owed it to you, your education, and your future career not to act on these feelings. 

And he sighs as he sits in his car, starting it, but why did it hurt not to? 

It was that time again. 

Your next paper had come around again, and you needed to prepare a topic before you went to speak to Professor Geto. You had put it off, something you had never done with his class, but you wanted to limit the amount of time you spent with him, if only for the sake of your heart. 

Watching him in lectures was bad enough, your thighs pressing together as you watched him speak, his impeccable looks and intelligence a deadly combination for your heart (and your body). You could barely focus, your eyes too fixed on the way he wrote on the board —  his fingers too lithe and too thick, his voice all too alluring when discussing Kant and Aristotle and you can’t help but think what he’d sound moaning your name. 

God. Fuck.  

Either way, you needed to listen to the lectures again since you weren’t able to pay attention. Maybe without watching the video would be better, you settle on your bed, notebook and pen in hand, as you place your headphones on. His voice filled your ears, and you’re scrawling notes. 

But your mind begins to wander. He’s lecturing on the deontological ethics, and all you can think about is how he could make you cum with just that voice of his.  

Shit, you shifted your thighs again, feeling that familiar ache again. What would he sound like when he moaned? How would it sound to have him touch you, run those long fingers down your thighs, and whisper filthy things in your ear? 

As you listened to the lecture, his voice became white noise as your fingers slipped past the waistband of your shorts, and you shut your eyes. 

“That’s it, sweetheart, spread your legs for me,” he’d murmur in your ear, his chest pressed to your back and he’s urge your thighs wider, and his fingers would press against the wet patch on your panties, and he’d hum, “so wet f’me and I haven’t touched you yet, Princess,” his lips would kiss your pulse, “you like my voice that much?” 

“Professor,” you gasp, as his fingers would tease you through your underwear, the fabric growing more soaked by the second, “please—“ and his thumb would ghost around your clit, teasing you, as his long fingers would piston in and out — they would reach so much fucking deeper “I need to—“ 

“Already begging? I knew you learned fast, but not this fast,” and his fingers would tug the crotch of your panties aside, his fingertips tracing around your outer lips, before a finger pushes past your sweet cunt, “fuck, my favorite student’s pussy is so fucking tight. These boys are not fucking you right,” and you whimper, his finger would be so much thicker than yours, as you glide another finger inside you, the two dragging against your walls, “listen to your pretty cunt,” he’d grin against your skin, “and the wet squelch of your pussy, “so pliant for me, takes my fingers so well,” he’d murmur with a chuckle, “practically swallowing me up,” 

And you’re bucking your hips against him, wanting, needing him deeper, because your fingers don’t reach as far as his does, moans leaving your lips. 

“I’m so—” you’re moving faster and faster, his lecture still filling your ears, your pre-cum soaking your shorts and onto the bed sheets, “I can’t—” 

“Come on, Princess, use those big words of yours, you have no problem usually,” his hot words would whisper in your ear, and you’d hear him rub his erection against your ass, trying to get himself off, and you’d grind against him, wanting any friction, “tell me,” 

“Let me cum, please,” and he would smile, running his fingers through your hair, before he bore his thumb down on your clit and sunk a third finger into your needy cunt, just as you did now. And it’s too much for you, your toes curl, your messy walls fluttering around your fingers, as you cum all over your shorts and sheets with a groan of his name. Your fingers were soaked, as you pant, trying to gather yourself, as you came down from your high. 

“Fuck,” you murmur, tugging off your headphones, so your cunt doesn’t have to twitch listening to his dulcet words again. And you’re pulling your fingers out, your cum dripped down your fingers, as you shifted, far too wet underneath you, as you tried to slip off your bed to take a shower and clean yourself up. 

And then you realized, you didn’t even hear any of the lecture. 

Double fuck. 

Why was this so difficult? 

You stood near his office, trying to work up the urge to approach his door for office hours? Since it’s almost the end of the semester, there had been an influx of students attending office hours, and with everything, you had found excuses in your head to avoid office hours. But you couldn’t avoid him anymore. 

For your final paper in the class, you had to have a meeting with him during office hours to discuss your topic, complete with bibliography and outline. And it was almost time for your meeting. 

But you didn’t know how to go in. 

The last few weeks in class have made things worse. You couldn’t help but watch the other students fawn over Professor Geto, his lips curled as he spoke to them. And you’d leave class without a word. You had to stick through the semester and your feelings would disappear with time. You wouldn’t have to see him, you wouldn’t have class anymore, and you couldn’t talk to him. 

Or wouldn’t. 

But now you had to. And you didn’t know how— otherwise than just to do it. 

You knock at his door, “Come in,” and you open the door to see an empty desk, blinking, “I’m over here,”

And your head snaps to your right, and Professor Geto is sitting on his couch, his legs crossed with a stack of papers in hand. His jacket is slung over the side of the couch, his deep maroon button up sleeves rolled up, glasses perched on the tip of his nose. 

“I thought you lived at your desk,” you raise an eyebrow, “decided to change it up for the end of the semester?” 

“Everyone needs a change of scenery,” he leans forward, placing the stack of papers on the table in front of him, “do you want to sit here or move to the desk?” 

You shift in place, before moving to the couch beside him, “This is fine,” he stares, “what?” 

“Just surprised, you always have something to say,” he leans on his elbow, “no smart remarks today?” 

“Fresh out, can I offer you my proposal for the final paper instead?” You say dryly, and he cracks a smile, holding out your proposal. He clicks his red pen, readying his sword. 

He takes it, his dark eyes darting back and forth as he reads, his brow furrowed in concentration — and you can’t help but want to reach out and smooth his brow for him, tease him that he’ll get wrinkles. But you can’t. Can’t because that would cross a line that neither of you should cross. 

“You’ve come a long way,” he says, as he flips it back the front, writing only a few notes here and there. 

“But?” You wait for it. 

His gaze flickers up, a tilt of his head, “That was the end of my sentence,” 

You pause a moment, “Really?” 

“Really,” he scribbles a few more notes, “I look forward to reading the paper, it will be excellent I’m sure, maybe you’ll even get higher than a B+,” 

“Oh, ha, ha,” sarcasm dripping from your tongue, but you can’t help but smile, “you’ll miss me and my endless need for academic validation,” but was it really academic validation you were after now — your eyes gazed at him sitting with the tip of his pen pressed to his lips — or was it his? 

And it’s his turn to pause, and his lips curl into a soft smile, “I will,” 

Your breath catches, “Really?” 

He chuckles, “Really,” he licks his lips, his eyes glancing downward at your proposal than at your face, “I’ve enjoyed our chats this semester,” 

“Have you? Even when I argued with you,” a half nervous half serious laugh dies on your lips when his gaze meets yours, far too serious for your heart to take. 

“Especially then,” his fingers run through his hair a moment, before he speaks again, “I can’t say you could say the same,” 

“And why couldn’t you?” his eyes flicker with an emotion you can’t grasp fast enough, before it slips away into the depths of his dark irises. 

“Because you stopped coming,” his voice is soft, his tone barely even, and this gives you a real pause, heat flushing your body, as if his words had set every nerve ending alight, your mouth growing dry along with it, and it gives him a reprieve he needs to brush it aside, “you don’t have to, of course, these office hours are not relevant to your—” 

“I didn’t stop coming because I didn’t enjoy it,” you cut him off, swallowing the lump in your throat, “I stopped coming because I did,” 

He stares, “What do you—” 

“I don’t want academic validation anymore, I don’t care about my GPA,” you consider it a moment, “ok I do,” and he snorts, “but I care more about validation from you,” 

“From me?” he says, and his gaze tries to meet yours and it can’t — but his fingers brush against your skin, making your breath catch, your eyes finding his, “and what kind of validation do you want?” 

And you can’t find the words, and you hesitation makes him shake his head, “I apologize, I shouldn’t have—” 

“Will you have a drink with me?” and he’s speechless for once, “after the semester is over, of course — I know it wouldn’t be ethical before,” 

And his eyes find yours again, “Some would say it would be unethical after too,” 

“I would say it depends,” 

“On what basis?” and you can’t help but smirk. 

“Am I being graded, Professor?” and you delight in a small crack in his smiling veneer as a light flush dusts the tops of his ears, “and if I’m good, will you call me a good girl again?” 

He swallows, “I don’t want to cost you your education or your—” 

“I understand the risks, but we aren’t contemplating shifting a trolley to hit one person or five, or murdering one healthy person to save five sick ones,” and he raises an eyebrow, “it’s a drink to celebrate the end of the semester,” 

“And if it's something more?” he nearly whispers, the softness of his voice reflected in his features, as his fingers that rested on the couch twitched beside yours. 

“Then we’ll cross that bridge then,” and then you add with a small smile, “Or hit the metaphorical person with the trolley,” and it pulls at the corners of his lips. 

“You make a fair point,” and you gasp in mock surprise.

“The first time all semester you agree with me,” and he chuckles, a noise you wished you could hear him make innumerable times more. 

“Not the first,” he replies, before leaning forward, pressing your outline back into your hands, his fingers brushing yours, “we both agree you’re a good girl, don’t we?” 

And your breath catches, his words warm your skin, turning your blood to lava, “Professor,” and he smiles again. 

“When we go for drinks, call me Suguru.” 

~~~~ 

The semester wears on and finally draws to an end, but finals induced hibernation begins for you. A mix of papers and exams, you finish everything — including your paper for Professor Geto’s class. As always, he has you submit a paper and electronic copy, the paper copy to be dropped off at his office mailbox. And you do just that, the mailboxes being only around the corner from his office, and your heart squeezes at the thought of him. After this, the class was over, it was done. You weren’t his student anymore. 

And you place the paper into the mailbox and sigh, chewing your lip as you pass by his office, but find the door closed (and locked, as you quickly turned the doorknob to test it). Where was he? This was the time he was usually in his office, but maybe he had left campus for the semester — had he forgotten about your drinks? 

Fuck. You hadn’t even discussed a time or place, you had left it vague — “after finals.” Your cheeks burned at the memory, you were far too flustered to elaborate. And you had spent far too many nights imagining him calling you a ‘good girl’ in many other situations. 

And then you heard a call of your name, your gaze snapping up, your heart leaping, but only to see the department head. 

“Hi Professor, how are you?” and the two of you make polite chit-chat, until he asks you. 

“Have you applied to be a T.A. for the department?” and you blink, “applications just opened and I think from what I’ve heard about you around the department, I think you would be an excellent candidate.” 

“I’d love to be — how does the application process work?” and he explains that it’s a double blind process where applications are viewed without personal information of the candidates, and then matched with a professor based only on resume and writing samples. 

You can barely listen to the department head, still far too distracted with thoughts of Professor Geto — so you agree to apply, if only to placate the department head, and make an excuse to leave. 

It had been a week or so, as you lay in bed in your apartment, staring at your ceiling — you hadn’t even bothered to get Professor Geto’s personal number. You couldn’t even reach out to him if you tried, as the only way you could was through his university email, which was out of the question — the university had rules against a professor and student dating, and if anyone found that email — you sighed — it wouldn’t be good. 

Maybe it was for the best. 

The only communication you had gotten from him was an email from Professor Geto’s mailing list to the class from a few days ago, stating that he was out of state in a conference, and he would return soon, but your grades would be emailed to you. But the paper copies would be available to pick up in his office from 3:00 PM to 6:00 PM on Tuesday. It was almost time to pick up your paper, and your nerves bit at you as you thought about the possibility of seeing him. Who knows if he would even be there to begin with. 

Would it be anything? Would it be nothing? Was there not any point to this at all? 

Oh, great, you were becoming existential. 

You sat up, the only thing you could do was go. So you do, taking your time to get dressed. If you were going to see him, you might as well look your best. 

Fuck. You couldn’t go in. It had taken you longer to get back to campus than you thought, and now there were only a few minutes of his office hours left.

And you’re about to knock when the door opens, and you find yourself face to face with the man who has consumed every thought of yours for the last few months — good and bad alike. 

“Late again?” and you can’t help but smile. 

“I prefer fashionably late,” and his eyes rake over your outfit, making your cheeks burn. 

“You certainly are,” and he steps aside to allow you into his office, and you glance between the couch and the desk, but he makes the choice and sits at his desk, “I have your paper right here,” and he’s rifling through his file of papers, “how did your finals go?” 

“If I have an A on this paper, perfectly,” and a smile tugs at his lips, and you raise an eyebrow, “what? Something funny?” 

“Not at all,” and he pulls your paper out, ha “I just recall you saying you wanted something more than, what was it? ‘My academic validation?’” 

And your cheeks flush, “I did, but I also didn’t hear from you,” and your fingers reach for the paper, and he holds onto it, “Professor,” 

“I couldn’t reach out to you because I was still your professor, but once you get this grade, I’m not anymore,” and his gaze is sharper without his glasses today, his dark blue Henley doing nothing to help the flush on your cheeks — memories of your dreams flooding your mind, “and once you get this grade back, I’m not anymore,” 

“And what does that mean?” you can’t pull your eyes away from his, but his fingers let go of your graded paper, “how about you look at the last page of your paper and see?” 

You pull the paper into your hands, flipping to the last page: 

99 — I was impressed by this paper not only by the content but by its comprehension and use of both ethics and philosophy. But I was also impressed by the person who wrote the paper. You’ve shown determination and growth throughout the semester — and you have reminded me what we owe to each other. And I think we owe each other a drink, and a chance for this. 

You feel his eyes watch you as you read, your eyes finally meeting his — his brow knit together, his lips pursed, concentrated gaze trying to decipher your reaction. 

“Why a 99?” And his eyebrows raise, as if to ask, “that’s your question?” 

“You had some spelling and grammar errors,” 

“Really? You couldn’t let it slide?” And he tilts his head, before he sees your lips curling into a grin. 

“So you think it’s funny to mess with your professor?” And his voice drops, a playful tone that makes you nearly shiver, as he leans forward, resting his chin against his elbow. 

“You’re not my professor anymore, are you, Suguru?” he likes that by the way his teeth bite his bottom lip briefly, his eyes flitting to your lips for a moment and back to your eyes, “so I guess we’re using that trolley after all,” 

“If you want to,” he says softly, “I wouldn’t blame you if you change your mind, it’s a risk,” 

It was. It was a risk to your reputations, your careers, your futures — especially to yours. But, your eyes met his again. 

“Contractualism is about avoiding risk,” and he nods, as his gaze falls away, “but some risk is necessary in life, and I think this is one that’s worth taking,” 

“We will have to be careful,” he murmurs, but already his fingers are twitching, far too eager to touch you, “we can’t make any mistakes. I don’t want to hurt you,” he adds softly. 

“I know, I don’t want to hurt you either,” and you rise before slowly rounding his desk, “but I want to know what it’s like,” 

And he can’t stop himself — he gets to his feet, his fingers finding your cheeks and he kisses you. You can taste the black coffee on his lips, his kiss is gentle at first, so chaste and fleeting that you’d swear he didn’t kiss you at all — and so it’s not a second before your lips find his again, in a deeper kiss that steals every ounce of breath from your lungs, and leaves only heat behind. This was dangerous. The very risk you were both trying to avoid, but as he’s pressing you into the edge of his desk, you can’t find the logic you misplaced when those goddamn fingers you’ve been dreaming about squeeze your hips. 

“Fuck,” he’s panting — god that word sounded more sinful on his lips than it should — as he presses sweet kisses to your neck, “we shouldn’t be doing this here,” 

“Not very ethical,” you chuckle breathlessly, as your fingers rake through his now disheveled bun, “but I can’t find the sense to care,” your noses brush, as you can’t help but smile, “what would Scanlon or Kant say about this?” 

And his arms lift you onto his desk, several papers crumpling underneath, “Who the fuck cares?” he’s hissing, his lips find yours in a searing kiss, as his thighs press yours apart, as he settles himself between your legs, his knee grazing your core, drawing a delightful gasp from your lips, “I know what I want,” and his eyes soften, his fingers tracing the length of your cheek, “do you?” 

Before you can answer, two pings catch your attention — your phone and his computer lighting up with a notification, and you both pause a moment, as your eyes glance at the banner notification on your phone, skimming over the words. The T.A. positions have been assigned. 

“Fuck,” you hear him mutter, and you gaze snaps up to his on his computer, the email now opened on his screen, “this can’t be right—” 

“What is it—” and the question dies on your lips as your eyes find where his rested — 

You — you were his T.A. for next semester — for the very class that you met in. 

Fuck, indeed. 

✧ read part 2 now

✧ a/n: lets all remember that student and teacher relationships are bad in real life. it's ok to live vicariously through reader but unfortunately no professor will be as hot as professor geto or gojo T_T. s/o to @/laneymusings and @bucky-of-the-opera for beta reading this for me and being just absolutely wonderful!!

✧ tag list: @sokkasmoon, @unoriginalideas, @waytootiredforthisss, @sinnerstardoll, @secret-pages-of-my-heart, @drthymby, @hanlay, @catsgomurp, @hatsunemitskislobotomy, @esuz, @difficultdomains, @poopyface222, @iwassentfromhell, @diogodxlot, @totallynotcc, @llovekami, @deadmarygolds, @teatreeoilll, @carcarcraziiv2, @forest-hashira, @aliyalala, @esuz, @that-goth-bisexual, @hehehehesthings, @imjustmememe, @j1jay, @iwassentfromhell,

#sab [mlist] #sab series [prof suguru] #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto smut #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru smut #geto suguru imagines #geto x reader #geto smut #geto x you #geto suguru fanfiction #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #dividers by @/saradika

[kooktrash]

lost & found | jeon jungkook

summary:your college years have never been something you dwelled on for too long. you didn’t want to think of all the chances you lost and that’s why when the guy you had a crush on moves back to town, you try not to let it affect you again. but then he brings up old memories that didn’t go the way you thought they had and you’re thrown for a loop. you’re stuck between finding something new with him and falling back into old habits of never standing up for yourself. it probably doesn’t help that he dated your best friend, where everything seemed to go wrong.

➣ genre/au: jungkook x reader [she/her, female anatomy], mid-20’s friendships. what kind of au is this? smut, plot

➣18.7k words

warnings: heavy plot. smut. a little bit of angst if you squint. tae is oc defender. shy oc. jk is an old college classmate. oc and jk got complicated, misunderstood history :(. oc is kinda insecure? bathroom sex. teasing. foreplay [f and m receiving]. very neeeedddy, long time waited sex.. unprotected. jk fucks oc on the counter, on the door. jk is tatted up but not in his college days. heavy makeout. breast play. fingering. dirty talk. oc goes down on jk as a thx 🤧 jk dated oc’s bestie but there’s HISTORY. oc’s bestie is the real villain im sorry. took advantage of two insecure college kids >:( love lost, love found vibes. just read I swear it’s not that bad 😭 no cheating. FRIEND BREAK UPS. oc gets confident toward the end

song inspo: bff — jesse

As you settle into adulthood, you learn a few things about friendships. There tends to be a slight divide between those you’ve known since you were young and those you’ve collected over the years. Some might value the friendships they’ve held longer more than those that are more recent but for others, what matters is the trust that comes with friendship no matter with whom it might be with. You’re somewhere in between, you think.

You have people like Taehyung who you’ve only recently started to get to know and have had a chance to grow close with. He doesn’t know everything about you yet but he doesn’t need to, he seems to understand enough now to be an important person in your current life. He’s the kind of friend you're thankful you’ve met on some random occasion.

Then you have someone like your best friend, Miyoung. You’re not sure the last time you had ever been truly without her at your side. From your earlier school years to college, to now when you’re both settled into what would essentially be your careers and private lives. She’s… she's special to you in a way that you're not sure you could ever find in someone else—or at least that’s what she says?

There hasn’t been a time where it wasn’t the two of you practically glued together at the hip and you credit her for her outgoing nature that always seemed to balance with your more introverted demeanor. Of course it didn't mean you couldn’t make friends without her [take Taehyung for example] but she’s always seemed to gravitate people toward you with her energy. That’s why you're not at all surprised by tonight’s events and how everyone seemed surprised that you came alone.

”Honestly, I’m happy you made it, it feels like we haven’t seen each other in so long,” Your friend, Hoseok, pointed out as he led you to the private area of the lounge bar where it seemed like a reunion was taking place, “When Miyoung said she wasn’t going to make it, I thought you probably weren’t going to show up and—“

”Is that what you would have preferred?” You asked with a teasing smile as he began to stumble over his words, attempting to backtrack.

“What? Y/n, don’t you know I’ve been desperately enamored by you since your first year? Don’t make such crass comments,” He joked back, helping you out of your coat as you grew closer to the room filled with loud chatter. He led you with hands on your shoulders and said, “And between us, I’m a little happy she didn’t come. I wasn’t really in the mood for this to turn into a Battle of the Exes fighting ground.”

”What do you mean?” You barely had time to ask as you entered the room where an explosion of your name was heard by old college classmates of yours who all seemed on the border of tipsy and in a good mood. You couldn’t help but smile, looking at everyone at once till your eyes fell on the person in question.

He didn’t hesitate to meet your gaze with equal surprise as you sat across from him, just one person down the line. Immediately the people next to you tried sparking a conversation and you used it as a distraction to keep from gawking at him. When Miyoung told you she wouldn’t make it, you debated coming yourself but after some begging from Hoseok you decided to come along. Despite your best friend not joining, you're kind of glad she didn’t. Hoseok is right, it would have been a battlefield and you did not want to be caught in the middle of it.

“Y/n.”

Ignore, maybe? Just ignore and maybe he’ll forget trying to talk to you and your head won't be on the chopping block. You looked down the table at some of the other people you remember from campus activities or long lectures and tried to ignore the growing smile you could see on his face from the corner of your eye.

“Hungry?” The person next to you asked as he made you look his way. There were platters of hand food across the bar table and you happily took whatever Jimin offered. As much as you hated it, you couldn’t help but look across the table to make sure it really was who you thought it was,

Jeon Jungkook.

Better known as your best friend’s ex boyfriend.

Or worse, the first guy you liked when you started University.

”Hi,” he said in a low voice, catching you in the middle of staring at him. In your defense, he seemed so different—more matured if you will. Now he was covered in tattoos and piercings, he lost that sort of boyish charm but clearly gained something else along the way. He was buff and bigger, more intimidating yet alluring? Safe to say he didn’t look like the ‘Boy Next Door’ you had a crush on in your English seminar.

“You’re here,” was all you could think to say back, giving up on your sorry attempt at ignoring him for no real reason other than saving yourself from an awkward encounter.

”So are you,” Jungkook bit into his bottom lip as he looked at you closely. How is it that someone could look so different but the same all at once? In your gaze he could still see that curiosity in everything that he remembered from back then when he would spend lectures wondering what was on your mind. In your appearance, he can see how much you’ve changed physically. They were surely small differences in everyone else’s eyes but he always had a tendency to pay too much attention to you and it would get him in trouble.

You gave him a polite nod in response to his blatant observation that matched yours and attempted to shift your attention elsewhere but he didnt let it get too far. He cleared his throat, “How have you been?”

“Me?” You asked, “Okay, I guess. Busy with work.”

“So I’ve heard, you’re in marketing now, right? What happened to your writing?” Jungkook asked, seeming genuinely curious to know. He didn’t care for the conversations happening around him more than he did hearing your response now that you looked more willing to give him one.

“It wouldn’t have paid the bills—You remember my writing?” You asked, surprise evident in your features that he couldn’t help but smile.

It was hard for him to forget his biggest competition at the time. He let out a small sigh, ready to go on about being unable to forget a certain piece you wrote when a firm hand was placed on his shoulder. Yoongi stood over him, “Smoke break?”

Say no, he thought. Jungkook could easily reject the offer and continue what he was going to say. Without meaning to, he looked back at you, but you had excused yourself from the table in the blink of an eye. Nodding hesitantly, he grabbed his jacket and followed his friend out while he wondered where you went so suddenly.

You were hiding in the washroom when you got the call from Miyoung, like she had a sixth sense telling her to reach out.

“So how is it? Is it as boring as I said it’d be?” Miyoung asked as she waited in line for some nightclub she was going to with some of her various other friends.

“Um, kind of?” You said without much thought—knowing it was what she wanted to hear. In reality, it was fun. You were greeted warmly that it washed away your earlier worries and you’re being taken care of by old friends you didn't get to talk to as much. Not to mention, you’re seeing Jungkook again after a couple years of hearing and thinking of nothing about the guy, so you don’t actually think it's boring.

Miyoung snorted, “Figures, good thing I didn’t go. I could not sit through more than an hour of everyone going on and on about what they’ve been up to. I mean, yeah I miss Hobi and stuff but I could see him whenever, y’know? Who all showed up?”

“I think everyone,” You admitted with a nervous bite of your lip. It was now or never. You tell her that it seems like Jungkook has come to visit or has come back to stay and you’re not sure how she’ll take that. She might even march over here just to tell him how she's felt these last two years and chances are that’ll ruin the easy vibe for everyone else. You leaned against the stall door and talked with her.

“So you’re back,” Yoongi asked with a smirk as he took a drag from his cigarette, “My Golden Boy’s back? Someone pinch me.”

“Funny guy,” Jungkook said sarcastically as he looked out onto the busy street. Yoongi shrugged, turning toward the bar window looking around to see the group, “Aren’t you happy you came?”

“Yeah, it’s great seeing everyone again,” Jungkook told him casually, flicking the end of his cigarette and watching the ash fall to the cold cement of the street.

“Want to know who surprised me tonight?” Yoongi asked, looking over at him to see if his expression would change at all, “Y/n.”

Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly, “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, dropping ash to the ground, “Y/n never comes out to these sorts of things, and if she does come it’s usually with Miyoung but she came by herself tonight.

“Yeah…” Jungkook zoned out a bit as he thought about it more, “Why doesn’t she meet up with you guys often?”

“You know Y/n doesn't really go out,” Yoongi said, “And she’s busy with work, at least that’s what Hobi says. I don’t know, when Hobi said Miyoung wasn’t coming tonight we both expected Y/n to not show too but… hey, aren’t you happy she isn’t here?”

“I don’t really care either way,” Jungkook confessed truthfully, “But do you know if… y’know, you might have heard something about Y/n and if she’s still seeing someone or—“

“Oh God,” Yoongi couldn’t help but laugh as he put his cigarette out, Jungkook doing the same, “It’s been like three years, man.”

Jungkook watched him laugh as he walked off leaving him to follow, “What?”

Yoongi held the door open for him, “You know what, but I’ll answer your question, anyway. Last I heard Y/n is single, so what now?”

He waited for Jungkook to respond but he wasn’t listening anymore. There were too many things on his mind that he needed to work out before you came back to the table.

“What do you mean you’re leaving? You just got here,” Jimin said to you as he held your hand in his to stop you from leaving, “One more drink.”

“It’s late,” You tried to say, “I’ve got to be up early.”

“Liar, it’s a Saturday night, Y/n. Sit your ass back down,” Hobi said with a firm voice making you sit down immediately. He flashed you a cute smile before asking everyone if they wanted another round of drinks.

“So, what were we talking about earlier?” Jungkook asked, trying to get you to talk to him again, “Your writing? Yeah, how can I forget it? Remember we used to read each other’s essays all the time before… well.”

Before he broke up with your best friend.

“Yeah, I remember,” You admitted, trying to find something to say. What kind of questions would Miyoung want to know? What do you want to know? What should you prepare your friend to know? “How long are you visiting?”

“Actually, I just moved back, I got a job doing graphic design for a local company,” Jungkook told you with the hint of a smile, “It’s my first time meeting up with everyone again.”

You let yourself indulge in small talk with him here and there but usually when he started it. The night had been fine, you enjoyed your time but after a while all you wanted to do was go home and Hoseok couldn’t make you stay any longer. You ended your night wondering if you should go out more.

Everything has a backstory, right? How it all started and yours seems pretty tacky. You spent the first couple years of University doing what you had to do in school and letting Miyoung drag you to whatever outing she had on the weekends. Some time in your third year, you joined this English class with the most boring, monotonous professor ever and that’s where you met Jungkook.

In all honesty, you thought he was cute from the get go. Sitting through three hours of a boring lecture led people to do odd things and one of those for you was staring at the cute guy who sat down a couple rows from you. It was just a little thing you did to pass time so you never expected anything to actually happen from it.

Then one day most of the seats were taken [naturally, it was a large class] and he seemed to have been running late because his usual cycle of seats were all taken except the one next to yours. Despite all those times you would find yourself ogling the stranger, when he was right next to you, you didn’t say a single word.

It was Jungkook who spoke first and it was just to ask if you could help him catch up. That day you were supposed to read someone else’s prompt and revise it and you chose each other which then trickled down to a routine of it. Without speaking much, he would sit next to you or silently save you a seat whenever you were running late and the one time you decided to switch it up and sit elsewhere…

Well, he was practically pouting the whole day.

It had been a nearly perfect set up to what could have been if you just allowed yourself to go for things but it didn’t happen that way.

One random Tuesday night, Miyoung wanted to go out for some cheap drinks and you found yourselves at a bar not too far from campus where you ran into a senior in one of your classes. Yoongi had come up to you first, just greeting you and making small talk when Jungkook who apparently had come with him, recognized you too.

They drank with you and Miyoung for a bit and you honestly thought it had been fun. You had never had real conversations with him outside of school work and it was nice to have more people to hang with that it just felt natural. Though at some point through the night Miyoung had gotten kind of flirty. She claims she assumed you had wanted Yoongi and not Jungkook and practically called dibs on him despite meeting him for the first time that night.

When she made her intents obvious, you couldn’t help but backtrack.

You always considered yourself pretty self aware about yourself. There was nothing special really and when you compare yourself to Miyoung there just isn’t much competition.

She was the perfect Prom Queen type who always had the nicest clothes or the cutest boyfriends, the best awards and most interesting stories. The amount of guys she would pull who you didn’t even have a chance with was insane. And though you might sound bitter, you’re not. You’ve never been the type to want the spotlight or attention and being best friends with someone so damn perfect was that you could always stay in the shadows.

So when she started flirting with Jungkook, you didn’t really notice his awkward glances or how he shied away from her proximity. You only saw how he smiled politely and listened to her go on and on about how great she is and assumed he was into her like all the others had been.

You tried to act normal after that, you would talk to him every now and then and never questioned why he stopped talking to you as much until he started dating Miyoung but you weren’t bitter. You were understanding.

It made sense he would date her. She was beautiful and smart and someone people pine for. It was a given that that would happen so once again, you didn’t take it personal.

They dated for a couple months [nothing serious at all] and then he dumped her which resulted in Miyoung practically forbidding you from even looking his way at all. You completed your last year without thinking about him despite the various mutual friends you shared and went on with your life when he moved.

That was the backstory and why you felt so awkward seeing him the other night.

You haven’t told Miyoung yet because there’s a high chance she won’t care at all and would get annoyed that you even thought to bring it up. Your friend is very pretty and she likes being in relationships so she’s been in quite a few since they dated and probably doesn’t care to be reminded at all.

The only person you’ve told is Taehyung.

“But did you at least have fun?” He asked as the two of you sat at a small restaurant for lunch. You nodded your head, “Yeah, it was alright. It was just weird, for me at least.”

“Why?” Taehyung asked as he dug into his meal, stuffing his mouth with no care in the world, “I mean it’s obvious everyone was happy to see you and didn’t want you to leave. Who cares if Miyoung didn’t go, clearly it didn’t matter to anyone else.”

You didn’t say anything, taking your time to enjoy your meal as you drifted off in thought. He is right, you know that sometimes it’s just in your head and you overthink things. You always feel like you’re boring to others so it’s natural for you to assume no one would be happy to see just you and not your bubble of joy best friend. There has to be a certain level of comfort between you and another person to show personality and it’s rare people get to see it.

“But how’d it go with that guy? Did he ask you about her?” Taehyung asked with a hint of curiosity.

“Not that I can remember. I don’t know, it was kind of awkward but we talked a bit,” You told him honestly, “He just moved back down so that’s cool I guess.”

Taehyung looked at you skeptically but you avoided his gaze, trying to distract yourself with your phone.

yoongi: throwing a welcome back party for jk this weekend, u coming?

you: idk, if I’m free

yoongi: … ur always free🤒

yoongi: just say yes, bring whoever u want

you: but is he ok with me going

yoongi: y wouldn’t he be

yoongi: he’s the one who asked me to make sure u come

you: okkkkkk 🥹

“Tae, can you come with me to this party please?” You asked, immediately showing your friend your text messages leaning across the table for him to see them clearly.

Taehyung’s brows furrowed as he read through the texts carefully, “Jungkook is the ex boyfriend, right? Why’s he so interested in you going?”

“He’s not,” you said, “He’s probably just doing it to be nice, since everyone I know will be there.”

“What if he’s… y’know, interested?” Taehyung asked curiously and you nearly choked on your drink.

“No, oh my god,” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “We were just classmates and we stopped talking after he dumped Miyoung so—“

“Yeah but did you ever stop to think ‘hm, I’m the one who knew this guy first and then Miyoung went and snatched him from me before I even got a chance to explore’,” Taehyung said in a high pitched voice, presumably mocking yours. You reached over to playfully shove his shoulder making him grin mischievously.

“What? No, it wasn’t like that at all,” You tried to say, “Him and I didn’t even really talk until the night he met her at the bar and… no, that’s crazy. He liked Miyoung right away.”

Taehyung just sighed, giving up on trying to get through to you, “If you say so, but who’s the one he approached first? Because I can tell you right now it wasn’t her.”

Despite how he expresses himself when he talks about your best friend, he doesn’t dislike her. He thinks Miyoung is alright, maybe a little too much for his tastes but that doesn’t mean anything. He understands the two of you are really close and although he has had many chances to befriend her too, he just hasn’t.

He’ll talk to her if you force them to hang out together but he would never go out of his way to be her friend. It might sound bad but Taehyung is pretty protective over you and rightfully so, he feels.

He doesn’t want to badmouth one of his closest friends but you have a tendency to overthink things. You don’t realize how great you are and make yourself seem smaller and he thinks Miyoung and other people like her in your life are at fault. He’s heard some of the things she says to you and it’s like you hold her up so highly there’s no room for you to see how pretty, smart, and talented you are. And before anyone gets the wrong idea, he’s not in love with you or anything.

You’re too good for him so he gave up on that idea long ago.

Plus, now that he’s able to connect some of those pieces from when you were in Uni, some things are clicking into place for him. Miyoung tends to dim your light a bit, or copy something you do and claim it as her own and when he hears this little backstory between all of your old college friends… he just can’t help but wonder if Jungkook was one of those things she claimed for herself.

With that thought in mind, he agreed to go with you to this party and see for himself what is there and what could be. He just wants what’s best for you and for you to be able to go and get it without worrying you’re not good enough or stepping on anyone’s toes.

When Friday night came, your apartment was filled with loud music and even louder complaints coming from one person in particular. Taehyung was just listening to you and Miyoung go back and forth about tonight’s plans and it got to the point where you couldn’t say anything but the truth about what you would be doing tonight.

“It’s a welcome back party for Jungkook,” You said, trying your hardest not to let your voice sound strained.

“What? When did he get back?” Miyoung asked, sitting up from your bed and tossing your pillow off her lap, “Like he moved back?”

“Yeah, I guess not too long ago,” You said with a shrug, looking in your mirror to see if you liked the way you looked or not, “I don’t know, Yoongi is the one who invited me.”

“Why didn’t I know? Why wasn’t I invited?” Miyoung asked, turning to Taehyung like he would have the answers.

“Probably because you’re his ex girlfriend and you ditched out on their little reunion so you could party,” Taehyung said, not bothering to look up from his phone.

“Yeah but, why’d they ask Y/n? She’s not even friends with him,” Miyoung said with a slight scoff, “You’re not actually going right? We could go out, just the three of us. You already hung out with them, you and I haven’t gone out in weeks, let’s just do our own thing. Unless you’re trading me in for all of them.”

You looked at her with apologetic eyes. You’ve been busy with work recently and she is right. The last people you hung out with aside from Taehyung were all of them two weekends ago so it would only be fair to hang out with her this time. It shouldn’t mean anything that you were invited and that Jungkook wanted to make sure you were going. Miyoung was supposed to be your best friend so how could you go to a party she wasn’t invited to?

Just as you were going to give in and shoot Yoongi a text that you weren’t going to make it, Taehyung spoke up for you. “Why don’t you just come with? One of them said Y/n can bring whoever she wants and I’m already going so it’s not like you have to be by yourself. Plus, aren’t the rest of them supposed to be your friends too? Y/n already agreed.”

“Why didn’t you ask me first?”

“I didn’t realize I needed permission,” You couldn’t help but sigh, sitting on the edge of the bed to comfort her, “We can just stop by, have a drink or two and leave if it’s lame. Come on.”

After much convincing, the three of you arrive at Yoongi’s place which was a small house with good outdoor space and the inside was packed with people already. The amount of party goers made you anxious but at the same time slightly thrilled that surely the attention would never be on you with so many people around.

“Y/n! Miyoung!” Namjoon spotted you two first and he threw his arms around you both with a grin, “Surprised to see you here, Mimi.”

“Yeah, probably because I was the only one not invited,” Miyoung said bitterly, making Namjoon take a drink from his cup and look away nervously.

“Let’s get you guys drinks then,” He said with an awkward clear of his throat looking to Taehyung, “What’s up, I’m Namjoon.”

“Taehyung,” he said, following you to the drinks table. The music played loudly and there were a lot of people having a good time that it was somewhat easy to try and blend in and act normal. Miyoung had a pout on her face, looking around worried but Namjoon brightened her mood and every now and then another friend would stop by to greet her. Taehyung mostly clung to you and only drifted away when a friend would spark conversation with you but you were thankful he was around.

“Y/n,” someone called out to you from across the room. You couldn’t make them out through the crowd of people and it took a while before you spotted Jungkook making his way to your direction.

“Jungkook,” you said with a nervous breath, looking around for Miyoung but she was off with Namjoon talking about god knows what.

“How long have you been here? Why didn’t you say anything?” Jungkook asked, slightly more energetic than usual. His hair was messy, with strands out of place, he wore a basic black tee and baggy jeans so why did he look good? It’s still hard for you to wrap your mind around who this is.

He’s gotten so muscular and just… more intimidating with his tattoo sleeve and piercings and it’s so unexpected but in a good way.

“I, um, you know, I just assumed you were busy,” you lied, looking around for one of your friends. Taehyung was at the table getting a drink and he’ll be back soon to save you before Miyoung looks around.

Jungkook found himself looking around too, as if he could see what you did but he came up short, “Did you come with anyone?”

“Yeah, Miyoung and a friend of mine,” you rushed the words out in hopes of sounding casual but Jungkook didn’t even bat an eye.

“So what are you doing alone?” He asked with a raised brow, taking a step closer to you, “Actually, there’s something that’s been on my mind since last time I saw you and I uh… I haven’t had the chance to say it.”

You blinked nervously, looking up at him and how close he was to you, “What is it?”

He licked his lips, playing with his lip rings shyly, “Well, I was wondering if you would like to get together some time, just you and I. We’ve never had the chance to hang out.”

“We’re hanging out right now, aren’t we?” You asked, feigning naivety that almost seemed teasing. In truth, you could sense what he was possibly asking and you needed him to stop. There was no reason for you two to hang out alone, no matter how much the thought made you giddy.

“I guess,” Jungkook couldn’t help but let his eyebrows knit together in confusion. He took another step closer to you, hand on the wall behind you for support. , “But I was still hoping… I know it’s probably kind of awkward but we’re grown, right? We can get together without worrying about anyone else.”

“Who says it’s because I’m worried?” You asked with a hint of playfulness in an attempt to ease some of the growing tension caused by the way he looked at you, “Where is this coming from all of a sudden?”

That made him crack a smile, “All of a sudden?”

“Yes, all of a sudden,” another voice added in from behind him and you jumped at the sound. Jungkook didn’t bother to turn around, he was more focused on the way you tried to look behind him and meet Miyoung’s glare.

“Where’d you run off to?” You asked, pushing past him making Jungkook slide his hand off the wall and roll his eyes at the disruption.

“Somewhere I felt wanted,” she said bitterly, eyes on Jungkook as she spoke to you, “Let’s go, I’m bored.”

“I thought you were having a good ti—“

“I’m not, Y/n,” Miyoung almost snapped, “You said we could have a drink and go. We’ve been here for like forever and I want to leave. That’s what we agreed on.”

“Okay, jeez, let’s go then,” You said with a sigh, “Let me find Taehyung.”

“Go, then,” Miyoung said, making you take a deep breath, trying to tell yourself she had a right to be upset. She didn’t want you [as her best friend] talking to her ex boyfriend. And you did say you didn’t have to stick around for long…

“What?” Miyoung asked Jungkook with a roll of her eyes as she caught him staring, “Did I interrupt something?”

“You still don’t know how to speak to people like they’re human beings,” Jungkook said simply, “And it’s sad to watch.”

“Screw you,” Miyoung scoffed, “You’re just mad I stopped you from trying to ask my best friend out. My friends are off limits.”

“She was my friend too,” Jungkook said as a reminder, “And I can do whatever I want. You’re just childish.”

She snorted, “Right, says the guy who fumbled me.”

He couldn’t seem to act mature anymore and before he stop himself he said, “Remember, you’re not the one I wanted anyway.”

He walked off without much care for how she felt and found his other friends, wondering who it was you ran off to find.

“Tae, can we go now?” You asked your friend. Taehyung had found himself a group of people to entertain with his stories and had nearly forgotten who he had tagged along with until you pulled him to the side.

“Uh, okay,” Taehyung cleared his throat awkwardly, “What happened? I thought everyone was having a good time.”

“Miyoung wants to leave,” You said with a small sigh, “She saw me talking to Jungkook and I just don’t want it to become this big problem so can we please just go?”

Taehyung placed an arm on your shoulder, leading you to Miyoung who waited at the door, “Yeah, sure let’s go.”

The car had only stayed silent for the first half of the drive to Miyoung’s apartment. Somewhere between the last red light and this short stretch of road, a fire had been lit underneath her which made her start up again.

“So what was that back there?” Miyoung asked from the backseat and you debated just acting asleep or like you were too drunk to listen properly. She leaned forward, looking at you closely.

“What do you mean?” You asked nervously.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Miyoun said with an annoyed tone, “First you get invited to a party for my ex boyfriend and next thing I know the two of you are whispering in the corner looking like you’re about to kiss and like I’m not even in the room.”

Taehyung had to bite his tongue from responding, worried that if he spoke too soon it would only make you seem more weak to her antics. He just tapped his fingers against the window trying to keep silent

“Miyoung,” You started with a sigh, “You’re overreacting. It was nothing, we’re friends—“

“Since when?” Miyoung scoffed, “You’re supposed to be my friend, Y/n.”

“I am,” You said defensively, “And if you want to talk about this tomorrow then that’s fine but right now it’s late and we’ve all been having a decent time so don’t ruin it…”

“Y/n’s right, let’s end the night on a good note,” Taehyung finally said but he seemed to go ignored by you two.

“You’re not though, real friends wouldn’t flirt with their best friend’s ex boyfriend—“

“You two dated for less than five months and it was years ago,” You blurted out, “I knew him before that so don’t act like I’m betraying you.”

“Oh my god, I knew you’d still be bitter I started seeing him,” Miyoung said, suddenly making you hide your face in your hand from exhaustion. “I didn’t know you had a thing for him back then. You should’ve said something instead of holding it against me like you do everything else.”

“What are you talking about?” You couldn’t help but scoff.

Miyoung’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, “You know exactly what I’m talking about and it’s not fair.”

Taehyung took a deep breath, fingers clenched around the steering wheel unable to bite his tongue any longer, “Miyoung I don’t think you’re being fair. You’re clearly drunk and you just want to arg—“

“Shut up, Taehyung,” She snapped, slurring on her words a bit and not even realizing the car came to a stop in front of her building, “I’m not even talking you and you can stop acting like Y/n’s bodyguard because last time I checked she’s a grown adult who could speak for herself. God, I swear everyone is the same. Just because Y/n is boring and insecure, doesn’t mean she doesn’t know how to speak for herself.”

“Get out. We’re at your place so just go,” Taehyung said, annoyed with the harshness she was projecting on you, “Y/n might put up with you but I won’t.”

With an irritated scoff, she swung the back door open, “Fine, screw you guys too.”

The door slammed shut as she stormed up to her apartment and Taehyung waited till she was gone to say, “Fuck, what did that girl drink? Y/n, why do you put up with that? Hey.”

You stayed silent for a moment letting her words sink in. Whatever, she yelled and threw a tantrum, that’s fine, that’s normal. But she seriously thinks you’re just a bore and maybe you’re starting to believe it too. If it weren’t for you always being cautious over how she might feel about you and what you do, you wouldn’t seem so boring.

Or was that just how you were and now you’re trying to say it’s because of Miyoung? Jeez, you just can’t seem to make up your mind about anything but all you know is that… you’re not boring. Well, you don’t have to be. If she wants to think that always backing up whatever she says makes you boring, then maybe it’s time you just do what you want even if she doesn’t like it.

“Tae, can you do me a favor,” You finally said, making him look over at you curiously. The car is still parked in front of Miyoung’s place and he’s been waiting for you to speak anyway, “What?”

“Take me back to the party please.”

Miyoung was wrong, if you were boring it’s because she made you boring. Anytime you did anything on your own, she always had to ruin it and you just let her. You just let Miyoung monopolize your time and make you her right-hand in everything. You’ve never gotten the chance to truly put yourself out there because you firmly believed you didn’t compare.

Maybe you needed to stop overthinking and just do what you want, be confident—or at least act like you are.

“Y/n! You’re back?” Yoongi asked once you made it to the party again, “Let me tell you, I was mad because I thought you left before even talking to me.”

“I’m so very sorry,” You said playfully, “But do you know where Jungkook is?”

He seemed to freeze up, surprise written on his face and he looked down at you questioning. You held his gaze, watching the wheels turn in his head before he was blurting out, “I don’t know. The bathroom?”

You blinked nervously, letting him slip away from you when someone called for him and were left standing there. Your mind was racing with ideas yet you couldn’t think of what to do.

What did you expect coming back?

What does this prove?

You feel anxious and insecure and maybe she was right, you’re boring and you don’t even speak up or do anything exciting.

“Jungkook?” You called out to him as you walked down the hall of doors, knocking or opening whichever door you landed on. You got to the last door with a bated breath, realizing it’s a bedroom and closed yourself in.

Your sense of bravado had been short lived. Whatever burst of confidence you had was completely gone now that you sat alone in the guest room contemplating just going home or not.

In all honesty, this was stupid from the very beginning. You let Miyoung’s words get to you and you acted before you could think. You didn’t need to prove anything. Plus, you don’t want Jungkook. Maybe once before you did… but not… anymore?

God, you felt like an idiot.

“Y/n?”

Your heart dropped with a sense of disbelief as you looked up. The once pitch black room was illuminated by a block of light from the open bathroom door. Jungkook stood at the doorway, brows furrowed as he looked at who sat on the bed.

“Jungkook,” you cleared your throat awkwardly.

“You’re back?” He asked, looking you up and down with a hint of suspicion. You nodded your head silently, making him blink with confusion.

You stood up from the bed suddenly, “Are you done in there?”

“Uh, yeah,” he moved out of your way, watching you closely as you closed the door in his face before he could say anything else.

Maybe this had been a sign that you didn’t want to talk to him but he couldn’t bring himself to leave the privacy in the bedroom to go out where everyone else was. He could hear the faucet running but oblivious to how you wet your face to try and snap yourself out of this strange mood before drying off. When you opened the door, you didn’t expect to see him standing there right in front of you.

“Everything alright?” He asked, halfway in the doorway, walking forward making you step deeper into the bathroom.

“Yeah, everything’s great,” you said with a strained smile, backing away, “Just—what about you? Has it been fun, this is all for you, right?”

“I guess,” Jungkook shrugged, “But it would have been more fun if you stayed.”

“Good thing I came back then,” you couldn’t help but laugh nervously, leaning against the sink counter.

“Good thing,” Jungkook licked his dry lips, “Y/n, about what I was saying earlier… I would honestly like for us together sometime, just the two of us.”

A small, shy smile appeared on your lips as you thought about earlier and repeated yourself playfully, “We’re hanging out right now, aren’t we?”

“I guess,” he blinked in confusion, looking down at you and struggling to keep his composure. Your response was a bit of a let down since he hoped you had come back to see him and he should have known better. You would never take him seriously after his mess with Miyoung and he was always reaching for the stars thinking it could work out.

Plus, you’re too good for him. You always have been.

He can’t explain why, but he’s always felt a sense of ease with you, like everything was perfect. As shameful as it is to admit, Miyoung had reasons to be worried.

When they dated… well, it didn’t stop him from thinking about you from time to time. Miyoung was aware of it too and he looks back on it now and realizes how wrong he was then. It was wrong for him to think about you when he was never able to have you, and he will be much less now.

“Am I wrong? Is it not just the two of us now?” You asked, swallowing the lump in your throat and looking to the bathroom door which was closed some time ago.

“Y/n,” he said it softly but you could sense his warning tone, like you were going to get yourself in trouble. Jungkook wanted to believe you were aware of what this looked like yet he knew there was a chance you weren’t. He couldn’t just go for it.

He could not just go for it.

Not even if you looked up at him with a look in your eyes that said you might want him to…

He could be dreaming it up.

Would you want him to?

No. No way, you would never, that’s how this all started right? You wouldn’t want him the way he wanted you and you’ll go be with someone else while he beats himself up for another failed attempt. He’s not in college anymore, he can’t make the same mistakes.

You do not want him.

“Y/n,” he said with a sigh, “I think we should get out n—“

It was soft but sudden. One second he was giving up on everything he had been hoping for and was ready to go on once again without telling you how he really felt. The next, your lips were on his, barely giving him a chance to feel the tenderness of it before pulling away with a gasp.

“Jungkook,” you covered your mouth with your hand, “Oh my god. I’m s-sorry, I, that was not okay. I shouldn’t have done that.”

You were rambling, apologizing for doing it without asking him first but in all honesty, he couldn’t hear you anymore. There was a strange ringing in his ear that only seemed to stop when he grabbed your face in his hands, and pulled you into a real kiss.

To keep yourself from leaning back too far, you wrapped your arms around his neck and met him the rest of the way. You kissed him back with an equal sense of urgency that had his eyes falling shut and letting himself get lost in the moment. Your lips were soft against his own and his lip rings felt cold on your tongue the first couple times.

At one point you surprised him by nipping at his piercings with a soft tug and it had his hands tightening around your waist, using his strength to pull you onto the counter with ease. It made it easier to kiss you and he let the small sigh you let out guide his tongue between your lips. Your hands were in his dark hair, and you surprised him with the way you took lead of the kiss. It felt like he was melting into you and it was doing things to him.

“Y/n,” he mumbled softly, “I want you so bad.”

You pulled back from him with widened eyes. It was the first time you heard him sound that way and you knew he meant it. He looked at you with an intense gaze and it felt good to be looked at that way by him. You wanted him too, right? That’s why you came back. That's why you were so upset back then. Why can’t you have him now?

What was really stopping you?

Nothing.

The second time he kissed you, you didn’t hesitate from doing more and it had his mouth dropping when he felt your hand trace down his toned chest. He let that feeling motivate his hands to do the same to you and they ran along your sides till he could feel your front. His hands slipped under your top and found your chest, gently reaching to touch you as he kissed you with his tongue.

Your fingers trailed down his navel to the waistband of his jeans, tugging softly and teasingly that you felt the way he sucked in a shaky breath. When he didn’t pull away to tell you to stop, you took it as a sign to go a little farther and undo the button and zipper. Jungkook’s rough fingers caressed your breasts ever so softly but with an added pressure that made you let out a small sigh, especially when he ran his thumb over your nipples.

He released a light groan against your lips when you got more confident in your actions and slipped into the hem of his Calvin Klein’s. You barely touched his growing member but you felt it harden against you, the more attention you gave to it and it was all just exciting to you. His kisses were needy and his rough hands felt so good against your sensitive buds that you couldn’t hold yourself back. You wanted to make him feel good too and you could tell you were.

Jungkook helped you tug his jeans down enough for you to have more reign over him and you touched his bare dick so softly. The first touch was light and teasing, like you were still letting him get lost in the feeling before you actually did anything but it was soft that it made a tingle run down his spine. Goosebumps rose on his skin and blood ran straight to his cock making it easier for you softly palm him to full hardness.

You circled your fingers around his tip, softly running your thumb around the ring feeling him twitch with need and softly sliding down to his base.

His movement grew rougher, he was no longer softly caressing your breasts but more groping, never getting enough for the softness of them. When you began to stroke him gently, he found it hard to keep himself from digging his nails into your flesh to ground himself and it made a hand of his fall to your leg. His palm was wide and flat against your inner thigh, tracing his lips down your jaw and to your neck to try and distract himself from getting too lost into the feeling.

“Fuck,” he huffed, licking his dry lips as he began to slowly fuck into your closed fist, deaf to the sound of music just outside the bedroom you two were hiding in. The bathroom felt even smaller at this point yet he couldn’t bring himself to put a stop to it now. Especially not when your hand began to fuck his cock faster, with more vigor as he twitched in your hold making his nails dig into your thigh harshly.

Your skirt was scrunched up around your hips at this point and he could see the soft blue of your laced underwear and couldn’t stop himself anymore. He had grown too curious to have you and with his hand so close already, he let his thumb trace along your covered folds.

They were already sensitive at this point and his sudden touch made your insides tighten with arousal, your back straightened in surprise and a light moan left your lips. The sound snapped his attention away from his own pleasure and when he did it again, he swallowed your moan with his mouth on yours.

He couldn’t take thing slow anymore, especially not when his dick felt so close to the edge already and was trying not to cum all over your hand and so soon.

You were withering against him, squirming on the counter to feel more of his hand against your heat. Your fingers tightened in his hair when he reached under to the hem of your panties, pulling them down as far as he could. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he tugged them down your thighs. Jungkook pulled away from your lips with a slight groan as he brought his fingers to your lips. He pressed into your bottom lip watching close as you drew your mouth open and took them in. As you licked between two fingers, your hand’s stroking sped up with more pressure that had him pushing them deeper down your throat.

When he pulled them out there was an obvious line of drool connecting his fingertips to your lips and he brought his hand between your legs once more. The mixture between his rough fingers and the slick that now coated them made a tingle run down your spine when they ran along your folds. You pinched the fabric of his shirt as he circled your hardening clit with his middle finger while his index finger began to tease your sensitive labor.

He ran the longer finger down your slit, dipping into the puddle of arousal that formed at your center before using it to wet your clit and massage you gently.

You looked into his eyes as he finally pressed his middle finger into your waiting cunt, giving you a second to respond and he couldn’t help but let his lips slip open with heavy breaths. Your hand stopped its actions as you took in the feeling of him pulling out his finger before pushing it forward once more. Each time felt hotter than the last and it made him want to take things further. When he thought you adjusted enough, he teased the tip of his ring finger in with his middle one and kept a steady pace of thrusting.

At this point you began to stroke him again, rubbing against his mushroom tip where a thick vein was felt along the underside of it. Your hips had began to move with the motion of his hand and you were fucking his fingers into you while fucking his cock with a closed fist. The both of you were left speechless, unsure how long you had been locked away in the bathroom but not caring either.

You felt more impatient than him but you couldn’t help it. You can’t remember the last time you let someone else touch you and none felt quite like this. Jungkook seemed to know where to kiss, where to press or pay attention to and he never left a part of you untouched. Even now as he thrusted his fingers into you, his other hand was at your chest again, fingers pinching your nipple and tugging harshly but it brought little whines from your lips.

“Jungkook,” You were breathlessly calling for him and you’re sure that if your back wasn’t to the mirror, you would be able to see how desperate you looked to him. Your other hand was on his hips, pulling him forward in hopes of getting him to get the hint that you needed more, “Fuck me.”

“What?” He asked with heavy breaths, looking down at the way the tip of his cock pressed against your inner thigh now, “Really?”

“Please,” You found yourself begging, desperately begging for him to give you something and oh, how it worked.

His eyes rolled back at the soft sound of your begs and with a hand on your thigh, he pulled you harshly to the edge of the counter. He placed his hand over yours and stroked himself once, twice, to slick his member with your arousal and his own.

His cock was hot to the touch and pointed straight to your waiting entrance. He had made such a mess of you already that when he pressed his tip into your clit, it nearly slid down from how wet you are. You had to bite your lip to keep from whining too loud when he teased you with that repeated motion, wetting his tip more and feeling the way your walls tightened and released for him.

Your back was fully against the mirror now, legs open waiting for him and you were getting impatient. The anticipo had been building up for too long and you brought your hand between your legs. All it took was a soft push down for his cock to sink into your waiting pussy.

His jaw went slack at the sudden tightness of it, he hadn’t expected it to be so snug. His tip barely pushed against the ring of nerves and your facial expression matched his own when he kept going. He held your thighs open, guiding himself in with a deep breath.

“Fucking hell,” he growled lowly, hands trembling as he kept you open and ready to take him in. He looked up at your eyes, completely enamored by the way your features softened with pleasure. Your eyes were glazed over with obvious lust that made him want to just fuck you into oblivion.

“Oh my god,” your hand circled around his neck, pulling him into a sloppy wet kiss that left him biting your lip softly. He groaned against your lips as he picked up the pace of his thrusting, letting his cock drag against your puffy walls so that you could feel every juncture on his length. Your back was arched into him, your chest nearly pressed against his and he snuck his arm around your waist to pull you firmly against him.

“That’s it baby,” Jungkook groaned into your ear, gripping onto the counter with his free hand to fuck you better. You were on the edge of the sink and he bucked his hips up to reach that pleasure spot he had found with his fingers just moments ago and had you moaned loudly into his ear, “You sound pretty, tell me how it feels.”

“Feels good,” you whispered softly against his neck, lips teasing kisses against his skin that made the veins in his arms bulge, “Don’t stop, please.”

“Ngh, Y/n, beg for me,” Jungkook said with a deep voice filled with lust as he fucked you with all his strength. There were too many layers of clothing between you but neither of you seemed to have the time or energy to tear them off. You were both too focused on the pleasure that came from feeling his skin against yours.

Your legs tightened around his waist forcing more of his length into your sopping cunt and his fingers pinched your sides roughly. Without thinking, Jungkook lifted you off the counter. You clung to him as he stepped back and he needed a second to just feel the way your pussy tightened around his hard, thick cock. He wanted to dig into your guts and it was nasty how badly he wanted to have you cum all over him.

It was so unexpected because you always came off as a quiet, reserved person but here you were letting him tear you in two with his fat dick. Jungkook used his strength to push you against the door, letting you drop onto his length before backing his hips up and pistoning them back into you.

“Fuck, I can’t,” your legs tightened around him with your face digging into his neck, “Jungkook, baby, I can’t.”

“You can,” He whispered, pressing you firmly into the wall, “Come on baby, take it.”

“Too much,” You whined, squeezing your eyes shut as he picked up the pace and you searched around for something to hold. Your hand tightened around the doorknob, trying to anchor yourself as he fucked you so good you could barely focus on anything but the pleasure, “I’m so close.”

Jungkook’s hand held you firmly by the waist while the other cupped your ass, groping you harshly as he fucked you onto his length trying to make you cum, “Cum baby, for me. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you moaned, “Kiss me, please?”

He didn’t hesitate to do so, kissing you with tongue as you clung to him, moaning into his ear and shaking slightly. His knees buckled tightly to hold you up and just as he gave one final thrust to the hilt, he felt your orgasm hit you.

Your walls tightened around him, nearly bringing him to his own orgasm before feeling his tip get flooded with your release. His thighs shook with the pressure of it and he felt his strength leaving him. His abdomen grew tense and he pushed you back to the counter where you let your head fall back with pleasure. You swallowed dryly, panting heavily, “Oh my god.”

You were sweaty, tired and overall unsure what to think but your mind hadn’t cleared yet. All you could focus on was the way Jungkook’s dick throbbed painfully hard when he pulled out of you with a slight pop. You eyed his red member, slightly hypnotized by how pretty it looked and you dropped to your knees wordlessly.

Jungkook watched you slip down on your knees in front of him and it took him a moment to process what was going on. He was hard, so fucking hard he couldn’t think straight and it wasn’t until your hands held his thighs, eyeing his cock hungrily did he realize what you wanted to do. He brought a hand fo attempt and gently brush your hair back, “Y/n, baby, you don’t have t—oh fuck.”

His jaw went slack when your hands circled his base, your lips on his tip and taking him down your throat suddenly. Your nose brushed against the base of his cock, eyes watering as you tried relaxing your throat around him and he nearly stumbled back with surprise, “Y/n.”

You ignored his call of your name, and began to bob your head against his length, your tongue licking along the thick vein you discovered earlier and feeling his hands sink into your hair to guide you, “That’s it, fuck.”

Jungkook looked at his reflection in the mirror, turned on by the way your head was seen bobbing against his length and his body was overheating so much he had to pull his shirt over his toned chest to cool down. It gave him a perfect view of the way his cock disappeared between your lips.

The thought of having you like this hadn’t dawned on him yet but now he couldn’t forget it. The memory would always be ingrained in his mind and although he doesn’t know if he’ll never get a chance to do this again, he couldn’t hold it in any longer.

You gradually began to pick up the pace, using your hands to hold closed fists around his cock to help stroke what didn’t fit in your mouth. You swallowed and bobbed around his dick hungrily, moaning around him and hollowing your cheeks when you would pull your head back until only his tip was between your lips.

As ashamed as he was to admit it, he wasn’t going to be able to hold himself back anymore. Still wanting to warn you, he tried to guide your head off him, “I’m close.”

All it did was push you to take him deeper, stopping when he hit the back of your throat and sucked. Jungkook’s eyes squeezed shut with a loud growl as his orgasm hit him harder than it had in a very long time.

You coughed as his cum sprayed down your throat, thick and creamy with a bittersweet taste that you tried to lick up. You would’ve cleaned him off fully despite his legs shaking but he pulled you off. He pulled his softening dick out of your wet mouth with a huff, panting heavily as he looked down at you.

“Y/n,” his voice was dry, pulling you up to your feet, “That was…”

He couldn’t even get the words out as he watched you lick the corner of your lips and without thinking about it, he pulled you into a heated kiss. You kissed him back with need, moaning against him as his tongue circled around yours hungrily, not caring for the way he tased on you. You only broke away to catch your breath, realization dawning at you as you looked at his messy appearance that surely mirrored yours.

You sat against the counter for a moment, attempting to catch your breath as Jungkook did the same. The two of you were silently readjusting your clothes again and you needed just a moment to yourself. He looked at you, buttoning his jeans back up, “Is everything… okay?”

“Yeah, um, can I just get a minute,” You said with a hoarse voice trying to pretend like you couldn’t see the way his shoulders slumped down. With a short nod of his head, he left the bathroom to let you wash up and for a moment you just looked at yourself in the mirror.

Your reflection looked different, maybe because what you had just done was so out of character and with your best friend’s ex but… why did it feel right?

Jungkook wondered what would happen now, if you expected him to leave the room or wait for you but he wanted to be with you. He didn’t want to walk out and think that because he got something he’s been wanting for years now, he’ll just leave. He knows the others are looking for him, mostly because he’s gotten a few texts now asking where he’s at but he can’t bring it in himself to care. When you opened the bathroom door into the dark room, he looked like a deer caught in headlights, rushing to his feet, “Are you sure everything is fine?”

“Yeah, yes,” you nodded stiffly, “If you want to go out there with everyone else that’s fine. I won’t be upset or anything.”

“Well, I was kind of wondering if you wanted to come back to mine?”

The first thing you noticed the following morning aside from the sun shining down on your face was the heavy arm across your waist. It made your eyes flutter awake with a small huff leaving your lips as you attempted to stretch your limbs but it tightened around you, securing you closer to Jungkook’s naked chest.

“Morning,” he mumbled sleepily into your hair as he hugged you closer.

“What time is it?” You asked awkwardly, trying to sit up making his arm slide to your hips instead. You reached for your cell phone, eyes widening by the number of text messages.

miyoung: bye I was drunkkkkkk 😳

miyoung: did I 🤮 at all?

miyoung: r u alive

miyoung: helloooooooo

A quiet sigh escaped your lips as you read it over. Either she couldn’t remember how upset she was in the car or she’s going to pretend like nothing at all happened.

God, what did you do?

“Y/n,” Jungkook grumbled tiredly, “Lay back down.”

“I should go,” You bit your lip nervously. If Miyoung forgot what happened last night then maybe she forgot about Jungkook asking you and won’t know you… slept with him. Fuck, were you a bad friend?

He dated your best friend and dumped her out of the blue making it obvious he wanted nothing to do with her and here you are letting him fuck you in the bathroom. What did that make you? You had a poor lapse of judgment last night, you acted out of character and hadn’t been behaving like yourself at all.

“Why?” He sat up suddenly, “You don’t work today, right? Why don’t we go grab breakfast—well, brunch.”

You looked down at him, unable to stop yourself from taking in his appearance. He had bed hair, no shirt on and his blanket draped over his waist. He failed to take off his jewelry last night so he still wears silver chain necklaces around his neck and leather bracelets. You couldn’t possibly spend time with him still. It wasn’t right, right?

Just as you were ready to give him your answer, your phone began to vibrate with an incoming call. You looked down at the screen and a picture of you and Miyoung displayed on the screen that had Jungkook huffing quietly and laying back down, close to giving up.

In all honesty, you weren’t in the mood to talk to her. It still bothered you by how harsh she was last night but there’s a chance she doesn’t even remember and… “Hello?”

“Tell me why I have a raging headache when I barely drank last night?” Miyoung said immediately once the call went through, “It’s your fault y’know for upsetting me.”

You couldn’t see her but she was walking on a treadmill in her apartment acting like everything was completely normal. Jungkook didn’t care for your conversation either but he was focused on the way you looked first thing in the morning.

You looked cute, undeniably cute with circles under your eyes and a disheveled appearance. You wore an oversized shirt of his so you wouldn’t have to sleep in such uncomfortable clothes and he loved it. You looked good in his clothes.

Without thinking, he sat up and pressed his lips to yours in a short and surprising kiss. You flinched back with confusion, nearly dropping your phone in the process but he backed away with a small smile. You tried to glare at him but you couldn’t stop from smiling and it annoyed you when he placed a gentle kiss against your neck that made you feel flustered. You almost forgot you were on the phone when he leaned in for a kiss again and one you would surely grant.

“But I forgive you,” Miyoung said suddenly.

“What?”

“I forgive you, I’m over it,” Miyoung said with a shrug you couldn’t see, “Our friendship means more to me than Jungkook and I know you would never do anything that you know would upset me so… it’s whatever. In the past.”

“Wait,” You held up a hand to Jungkook as you said it to the both of them, “When did I apologize?”

He stopped immediately, looking at you with concern as Miyoung went on, “I mean, we both know you were going to. I’m just letting you know it’s alright.”

“No, Miyoung, I wasn’t going to,” you couldn’t help but scoff, “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

Technically.

Jungkook raised his brows, surprised by your tone and a little turned on? Was that okay to say?

“I didn’t mean it like that, but you know… you were flirting with the guy who dumped me,” Miyoung said, “It’s fine, whatever, you want to flirt with Jungkook, I don’t care anymore I just thought I meant more to you as a friend.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment as you looked down at Jungkook who couldn’t seem to go more than a minute without attention. He had your free hand in his measuring your size difference and you released a sigh, “You know what, I’m kind of busy right now so I’ll call you later.”

Miyoung wasn’t able to get a word in before you ended the call, turning your attention to Jungkook, “You’re getting me in trouble, sir.”

“I’m terribly sorry,” he said, biting back a grin, “How should I make it up to you? Brunch?”

“You’re still thinking about that?” You asked with a slight laugh.

It was strange trying not to let your best friend’s feelings bring you down too.

“I’m hungry,” Jungkook said, hand on his toned stomach for detail.

“I don’t have clothes or, I don’t know, a toothbrush,” you couldn’t help but sound sarcastic, falling back on the bed with an arm on his chest.

“Don’t worry, I got you.”

In the end you caved to his incessant begging and found yourself dressed as casual as ever with an oversized tee and the skirt you wore last night clashing horribly. The only thing that had you regretting it was what stood [parked] in front of you.

“You’re not serious, are you?” You asked as you watched him walk up to you with a helmet in his hands, “I can’t get on that.”

“You can,” Jungkook said, putting it over your head, “I’m a very safe driver.”

“What about your car?” You asked nervously as he buckled[?] you into the head gear, “Can’t we just go in that.”

“We can but that won’t impress you,” Jungkook snorted a laugh as he got his own helmet on, “Come on Y/n, I won’t kill you, don’t worry.”

With a small sigh you nodded, letting him lead you to the bike and he swung a leg over to straddle it and patted the seat right behind him. Frankly, you didn’t care that you were in a skirt. You know that there’s an appropriate way for people in skirts to straddle something but you cared more about living so you straddled it the way he did. Jungkook couldn’t help but smile as he felt the softer touch of your hands on his waist and without saying a word, he pulled you into him suddenly. Your chest was pressed to his back and your arms snug around his waist.

“Atta girl, no time to be shy now,” he chuckled, feeling you smack his arm playfully.

If he were being honest, he liked this side of you. He’s never seen it before and it was breathtaking and enjoyable. Before when you were just classmates you were still stand offish from him and the only night he got you to open up was the first time he ran into you and met Miyoung. It was short lived and once he dated her, he rarely got to see you alone.

When he got back, you would barely even look at him yet whatever spurred last night’s events seemed to open up new possibilities for you two. You haven’t talked about what happened but he’s expecting it almost excitedly.

Jungkook’s hand ran up your thighs, securing you to him as he started up the motorcycle, feeling the smoothness of your leg and teasing the end of your skirt with a small tug, “Ready?”

He felt you squeeze harder before taking off.

The cafe was small and filled with warmth making this feel oddly close to a date… which is probably because it was? You’re still not sure how to take it.

“Did I really get you in trouble?” Jungkook asked as he cut his breakfast sandwich in half before doing the same with yours. When you looked at him he looked concerned by the notion. You didn’t have to ask to know what he was referring to and you couldn’t help but sigh, “Not really, sorry, it was more my fault than any—“

“Why though?” Jungkook cut you off, “Why is it always your fault? You can’t talk to me now?”

“You know we didn’t just talk,” you bit your lip nervously. You couldn’t meet his gaze and he didn’t like that.

He huffed in annoyance, “But she doesn’t know, or does she? I mean, what does it matter?”

“You dated. She’s my best friend and it bothers her, I already feel guilty for what happened last night—not that I regret it, don’t get me wrong but… well, it’s just confusing and it upsets her,” You rambled, still defending Miyoung even when she was slowly getting under your skin.

“We dated so long ago, it was such a short fling,” Jungkook said with a laugh as he went back to eating, “And she dumped me so why does it matter if you and I get together?”

“I don’t know, I just… she’s my best frie—wait, what did you say?” You met his stare suddenly making him set down his coffee cup to answer.

“She dumped me so why can’t you and I…” he stopped. Did you mean for him to repeat the part about being with you? Did you want him to say it again, maybe use the right words this time?

Why is he saying Miyoung dumped him? You remember the day exactly.

Miyoung called you while you were studying in the library late one night, not fully in tears but clearly under duress and she couldn’t stop herself from letting her emotions get to her. She went on to tell you how Jungkook dumped her suddenly over a phone call because he wasn’t interested anymore and was just using her or something.

You remember because you left the library to go comfort her and you almost ran into him on campus and he wouldn’t even look you in the eye…

He dumped her because he got bored, that’s why she asked you to stop talking to him. He was just like every other guy according to her and you owed her the promise to avoid him. It was you who introduced them anyway and…

Why is it that any guy you’ve ever thought you’ve liked would fall for her instead, only to dump her and in return make her ask you to not speak to them again?

Jungkook wasn’t the first so when she asked you to avoid him, it bothered you a little but you soon got over it and did as told.

You always do as told without questioning it.

“You broke up with her.”

He chuckled, shaking his head no, “I was going to but she beat me to it. I don’t know how honest you want me to be this early in the day.”

“Tell me,” you urged him on.

“I wanted to break up with her but I had this sick feeling that I wasn’t going to be able to talk to you as much anymore or it would be awkward so I stuck it out,” Jungkook said it with a shrug, “But then she dumped me and suddenly you won’t even look at me so it was worse for me, I guess.”

Your eyebrows stitched together with confusion, “What are you saying? Why did you care if I talked to you or not? You went for Miyoung the second you met her—“

“That’s not true, actually,” Jungkook confessed, deciding if you wanted honesty he would give it even if it embarrassed him, “I wanted you.”

“And when I met her, I was obviously there at the bar trying to talk to you but she kept butting in and next thing I know, you were off talking to Yoongi and ignoring me,” Jungkook went on, “To be honest, I was kind of insecure back then, like really insecure and I was trying to get you to notice me but everytime someone would cu—“

“Jungkook, stop, I just… no, you did not like me, you dated Miyoung,” You cut him off, fidgeting in your seat anxiously, “It’s fine, it’s in the past.”

“No it’s not fine and I asked how honest you wanted me to be and you told me to tell you so I’m going to,” Jungkook said more seriously, “I was insecure, alright? I had just moved to the city and I shared class with this pretty, incredibly smart girl who would barely give me any time of day. Honestly it was kind of depressing, I was kinda depressed at the time and I needed a boost to talk to you so I asked Miyoung and… she said you were into someone else so I was pretty bummed out. Then she’s kind of just everywhere and she actually tries to talk to me so when she asks me out, I say yes but I realize I still have to see you.”

“And I liked being around you even though I probably shouldn’t have because technically I was dating her at this point and I realized that I practically screwed up whatever chance I might have had with you,” Jungkook couldn’t stop himself anymore. He was saying whatever was on his mind, barely giving you time to process any of it before continuing, “Yes, I know it’s fucked up because whenever I thought it might work and I might catch real feelings for her, you would came around and they just went out the window. So it was getting harder and harder to keep pretending and I wanted to break up with her but I was worried you wouldn’t talk to me anymore.”

“She beat me to it and dumped me because she was bored and I was relieved, honestly, but then I see you on campus and you can’t even look at me anymore,” Jungkook cleared his throat, “Then life went on, I moved away, moved back, ran into you again and…”

“And what?” You asked breathlessly, lips dry and completely frozen in your seat.

He looked at you warmly, “I found you, everything just came back and I knew I didn’t want to lose you a second time. I wanted to ask you out the first night at the bar but you didn’t even want to talk to me so I tried again last night and you were so ready to blow me off when Miyoung came along. I don’t know what made you come back to the party and I don’t want you thinking I’m some sleazy guy who acts like that with just anyone. I was just… it was unexpected and I had been waiting years for something to happen between us.”

Suddenly, this didn’t feel like an easy brunch inside a warm and cozy cafe anymore. In all honesty, it felt a little suffocating now and you don’t know how to explain it, but you didn’t want to be here. So much has just been thrown at you and you don’t think you can handle it all.

What did he mean that he liked you first?

Why had Miyoung told him you were into someone else? You learned to stop sharing who you liked with her so long ago and had never once told her anything like that in school. Why couldn’t she just have asked you? Why did she ask him out after he made it known he wanted you?

You don’t care that he said yes, that really was in the past for you. Now you’re more focused on why someone who was supposed to be your best friend would act so sneaky? What did she gain from it?

Why did she lie and say he dumped her? Was it just so she can paint him as a villain and make you not want to talk to him anymore? Why would she do that?

“Y/n?” He called your name waiting for you to respond to him but you just sat there stunned, “I’m sorry, I know I was a piece of shit for dating her when I wanted you bu—Y/n.”

Your mind is filled with questions that you couldn’t answer and it was overwhelming. The cafe felt suddenly overwhelming and you just had to get out of there, so you did.

“Earth to Y/n, I don’t know how long you plan on ignoring the world but I know you’re not too busy with work to ignore your friends.”

Tacky, Taehyung was so very tacky leaving a concerning voicemail. Who left voicemails these days?

And he was being dramatic, he’s acting like you’ve fallen off the face of the Earth but that’s not true. You’ve just been holed up at either the office or your home for the past week, avoiding any call or text from anyone so you could be alone with your thoughts.

Alright it’s been over a week, almost two and maybe it is a little concerning but you’re telling yourself you’re just being dramatic.

“Y/n you better open the door before I break it down,” Taehyung’s muffled voice boomed from the other side of your front door and you begrudgingly went to let him in.

“Relax, I’m not dead,” You muttered under your breath as you let him in.

“Damn near!” Taehyung said loudly as he let himself through the door, “What is up with you? You haven’t responded to any text I was beginning to get worried.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled as you flopped down onto your couch, “I’ve just been tired.”

“Too tired to answer the phone?” Taehyung asked sitting down next to you, “Miyoung, I get. Ignore her all you want but me? What did I ever do to you? What’s up with you? I haven’t talked to you since the party. Did something happen?”

With a small sigh, you let your head rest against the back of the couch, “I slept with Jungkook.”

“Really?” Taehyung seemed genuinely surprised, “So fallout with Miyoung I’m assuming? Look, I personally don’t get why you try to make her happy but she’ll get over it. Did you like it? Like him?”

“Yes, I don’t know, I’m confused, I don’t know what to believe anymore,” you admitted, “And I feel so dumb because this shouldn’t be a big deal.”

“Alright well I need you to rewind and explain things better so my pea brain can handle it,” Taehyung made himself comfortable, “You’ve gone Ghost for over a week, I want to know why. Was it because of Jungkook? Miyoung? If you think sleeping with him makes you a bad friend the—“

“She’s a liar,” you cut in, “And it shouldn’t bother me so much because she’s my best friend but that’s why it bothers me, Tae. I’ve known her for so long, and I’ve always tried to be a good friend to her but it was never enough. So I tried harder and harder because who else would be there for me like her but… now that I’m looking back on it, I don’t think she’s ever cared about me as much as I care about her and it sucks, honestly.”

Taehyung wanted to tell you so many people cared about you but he wanted you to say whatever you needed to say first.

“You know what Jungkook said? He said Miyoung knew he apparently liked me before and still asked him out—and lied about how I felt about him,” You said, “And okay, why would I fight over a guy with my best friend but now that I’m thinking about it… it’s fucked up right? She lied that he dumped her and begged me to avoid him. You saw how she acted the other night just because he talked to me. What was that about?”

You weren’t going to go into full detail about the past because you owed Jungkook enough to not tell Taehyung about everything he said but he needed context.

“And I know it’s in the past so I should just move on but I can’t,” You admitted, “I still like him but if I… I get with him Miyoung would never let me forget that she dated him first, even if he liked me. It’s just all so confusing and overwhelming and it sucks that I’m letting it get to me like this but… it’s not fair.”

Once again, Taehyung didn’t say anything but he could tell you were feeling emotional by the way your voice began to shake.

“I like him, and not in the way I liked him before but I like this new him too, and it’s not fair that even if she lied or even if she snaps at me about shit that doesn’t matter, I will still feel guilty,” You finished.

“Y/n,” Taehyung cleared his throat, “Obviously I don’t know everything that happened back then but… I think that if you feel for him what he feels for you, it shouldn’t matter what she says. And honestly, I just… I wish you could see that there are so many people who care about you so much and you don’t have to put up with being belittled by someone who is supposed to be your best friend just because you have history. It doesn’t matter if it’s in the past, if it’s upsetting you now then clearly it still matters so don’t try to downplay your emotions.”

“But she’s my best friend,” your lip quivered.

“Then what am I?” He forced his lip to quiver as well.

“You’re my best friend too,” you sniffled.

Taehyung mimicked your expression, “Then as your best friend, I’m telling you to stop trying to make excuses for people who don’t treat you right—and go fix it with this guy.”

“Bu—“

“Y/n, I know you,” Taehyung sighed, “And I know that you’re not going to do anything if you think it upsets her but she doesn’t deserve a friend like you. You deserve to go be with whoever you want. I don’t care about what she says and at this point neither should you. I know that right now it’s confusing and you’re overwhelmed but if you’ve been ignoring me you’ve been ignoring him—I hope because if it’s just me that’s cold—and if the girl I had feelings for ghosted me… I’d be hurt.”

Jungkook was not hurt. He was… y'know, perfectly fine and that’s what he kept telling himself. It’s not like you made any real sign of feeling something for him too after hooking up and maybe that had just been a casual, one time thing. He can handle that, he’s grown.

Sure, he sort of spilled his damn heart out to you just for you to storm off on him and not reach out to him in days but he’s not bothered by it at all. That’s why when his two closest friends called Saturday night asking him to go clubbing… he said yes.

It was a chance to possibly let it go, forget it even, but it wasn’t easy. He was aware that he was possibly reading too into what happened the other night but could you blame him? You’re suddenly all about him and spend the night at his place where you wake up in his arms before going out to eat. It was like the perfect set up for a what if yet it went all wrong. Clearly it was his fault for being hopeful.

“So who else did you say is meeting us here?” Jungkook asked Hoseok for confirmation as he passed him a drink. The music played loudly in his eardrums that it was borderline painful and he wanted to leave more than anything but there was that stupid what if in his head.

“Jimin’s joining later on and so is Namjoon and his girl,” Hoseok said as he made sure everyone else had what they ordered, “Oh, and Y/n too, I think.”

“Y/n?” Jungkook tried clarifying. Hoseok smiled, “I know, it’s weird, Y/n seriously rarely comes out but all of a sudden she’s starting to more. I mean, lately she has, probably since around the time you got back?”

Jungkook let his friend go off to do whatever he wanted while he stood there seemingly frozen. Tonight would be the first time in days that he sees you—talks to you—and he’s not sure how to handle it. There’s nothing he can do about it either because he hasn’t confided in anyone yet but it’s painfully obvious that he’s waiting for you.

Yoongi noticed first, like he usually did, and tried talking to him, “What’s up with you? You’ve been antsy since the party, will you finally tell me where you ran off to?”

“Yeah man, don’t think we didn’t notice when you disappeared,” Jin said with a slight wink, “We just want to know with who.”

“Y/n.”

He could see you from the corner of his eye when you joined them at a table they had found. You came with Jimin by your side and a shy smile on your face. He assumed it was Hoseok who had screamed your name considering how he hogged your attention with a huge grin and Jungkook felt nervous all of a sudden.

As embarrassing as it was, Jungkook had nearly forgotten what he was asked until he looked back at Yoongi and Jin who looked at him expectantly. A nervous laugh escaped his lips as he shrugged, “Did you guys miss me too much?”

“Sneaky guy, don’t change the subject,” Jin laughed before letting Jungkook shift his attention back to you, making it painfully obvious where he was focused.

You felt a little nervous to be out tonight but after what you had talked about with Taehyung, you knew he was right. You acted strange with Jungkook after he opened up his side of things to you and it was plain wrong. Part of you isn’t even sure if he’s actually interested or not since he didn’t reach out to you this week and it made you wonder if he was really upset.

And if he was, would that mean that he didn’t want to speak to you?

“I need a drink,” you mumbled to yourself more than to the others but it made a good excuse to at least try. You looked at Jungkook for the first time since you got there and cleared your throat to awkwardly ask, “Jungkook, do you mind going with me?”

“Get me another, will ya?” Yoongi asked with a sudden wink that made Jungkook do a double take. Was he winking over the drink or him leaving with you?

He nodded his head in response and without question followed you to the bar once more. The bar was packed from all sides and Jungkook had to fight his way to the counter working as a barrier from people pushing at you. If he were to be honest, he wanted to skip the questions and get close to you again but he had to stay strong. He needed answers, right?

“Are we good?” Was the only thing he could think to ask.

You looked at him warmly, sitting down on the stool at the counter with him standing close to you, his hand itching to reach for you. Your lip caught between your teeth as you nodded, “Are we?”

For some reason he didn’t expect to be asked that back. It made him wonder if he thought you were. It was undeniably embarrassing to have you walk out on him like that after he thought it had been going good but did that mean he was truly upset with you?

“Yeah,” he nodded stiffly, blinking nervously and looking to the bartender who noticed them a while ago but had to attend to earlier customers first, “But uh, I guess I am just a little confused by it all. Did I do something to upset you? Was it what I said?”

“No, no, I’m sorry, it wasn’t you,” You blurted out, “It was me, I wasn’t thinking straight and I feel really bad about leaving like that.”

“Then why didn’t you just call or even text me?” Jungkook asked honestly, “I… I think that’s what bothered me the most.”

You looked down at your hands, “I'm sorry. I didn’t talk to anyone, seriously, and I did think about reaching out to you but I don’t know, I’m really bad at explaining things.”

“Well can you try? I know it was sudden but I thought it had been going good,” Jungkook said and the longer he tried getting to the bottom of this, the more annoyed he felt that you couldn’t just say it, “I think I’ve made it clear now how I feel about you and all I’m asking is for you to do the same.”

“I—yes,” you stumbled over your words, “I mean, I’m trying to be clear now but I’m doing a shit job at it. I did have a good time with you but it was honestly, really out of character for me to yknow… and then the whole Miyoung thing and I’m sorry but it was just a lot all at once. It’s definitely not fair to you that I acted that way, but I do have feelings for you.”

He let out a sigh, feeling unsure how to take it and stuck between wanting to smile in relief and wanting to be upset. You didn’t text him, nothing. How is that fair? He wanted to reach out to you but after the way you left he thought he would just make it worse if he kept bothering you. The bartender finally got to you two and he let you speak first as he tried gathering his thoughts a little more.

“But what does this mean?” Jungkook asked now, “I want you and you want me, right? So, what does this mean Y/n because right now I’m still confused by it all. If it’s because of Miyoung then—“

“No, it’s not, honestly,” You said, reaching for him, pinching the bottom of his shirt between your fingers to pull him toward you, “I don't care what she thinks anymore, I like you and I should have just said that from the beginning.”

The pull was harsh and had him looking down with his lips slightly parted in surprise, “Y/n, you’re not being fair.”

You knew it. You knew you probably ruined your chance now and coming to see him had just been a waste. You nearly let go of him when he continued, “You can’t ignore me and walk out on me and then just tell me you want me too, expecting everything to be fine.”

He had to be tough. He can’t just let it go even though you’re saying everything he wants to hear.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” you said with a slight frown, “I can leave if you want me to.”

“Ugh,” he groaned, unable to help himself anymore as he closed the distance between you two. He circled an arm around you and pulled you into a hug, “Why would I want you to leave when I’ve been waiting for you to get here?”

“What?” You asked, hands finding his waist as he held you, “I thought you were mad.”

“I was,” Jungkook said, “So you don’t know how annoyed I am with myself right now. All it takes is for you to sweet talk me a bit and give me those eyes of yours for me to fold, that’s embarrassing.”

“Jungkook,” you said, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have walked out like that. I should have texted you and if you want to be mad, I get it. If you want to think it over an—“

“And what if I don’t?” He asked looking down at your pouty lips and glossy eyes, “What if I just want to let it go and be with you without any more problems? Can I do that?”

His tone was surprisingly firm and you couldn’t do anything but nod, “Okay.”

It didn’t change the fact that you still felt bad because it seemed like you were being let off the hook easily but what else could you do? Jungkook really did seem ready to move past it and that’s why you came here in the first place. You just hadn’t expected it to be so easy and it made you feel bad.

When your drinks were ready, you opened up a tab despite his protests to just put it on his and the two of you got back to the group like nothing had happened. There was still a lot that needed to be talked about before you told anyone about what happened but it’s not like they were all oblivious.

Jimin, for instance, had been keeping an eye on you two at the bar since you left and had seen the majority of your conversation but he didn’t bring it up. Instead he watched silently for your little glances in each other’s direction and shy smiles. It was obvious to Yoongi too that Jungkook was in a much better mood now than earlier and it wasn’t hard for him to figure out why.

Perhaps for the same reason you had suddenly started joining them more often, being more comfortable too.

It had been a slow start for the two of you after the night at the club. Neither one of you seemed to want to rush into things but at times there was a strong pull. Tonight was going to be your first official date but you were keeping that information to your friends until you figure out if this works or not.

Jungkook picked you up from your apartment and drove to a nice restaurant where the two of you sat for dinner. He was very attentive to you, making sure your glass was always full and all your needs met and it was a surprisingly good feeling to be taken care of this way. You’ve dated in the past but you can’t say you’ve always chosen the right ones. You had a tendency to lean toward the ones who were overly forward with you because in your mind there was no doubt they liked you.

At first it would be nice but then you would realize that it was more of a conquering feeling to them than actually wanting to be with you and you would be left heartbroken. That’s part of why you rarely put yourself out there.

Jungkook is different though, he always has been. When you first met him he was forward but aloof. You never expected him to actually like you because you couldn’t see the signs clearly and the way things turned out it just never worked. Now that he’s been back he’s almost like an entirely different person in the sense that he’s ready to go for what he wants and it’s sort of admirable.

If you had been able to do that back then maybe you would have had him sooner but there was no point in dwelling in the past. He was here now and so were you. Honestly, knowing that there's something that’s been brewing between you two for a long time made it easier to feel confident around him.

“Why are you so pretty?” Jungkook couldn’t help but ask even if his mouth was full. He was trying not to smile too as he said that.

“Oh my god,” You felt your face heat up, tempted to hide behind your hand. It took you a moment to think of a response and it was surprising for the both of you to hear you say, “Why are you?”

Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly in hopes of not seeming too affected by your words. It didn’t work and he broke out into a grin, “I wasn’t expecting that.”

Dinner was filled with small flirting here and there. It’s crazy how well you and him seemed to get along when you stopped worry about other things. He made you smile, really smile and you made him feel giddy whenever he talked to you. He wanted to spend his night with you and nobody else.

“Are we going to meet with everyone else after this?” You asked as he pulled your chair out for you and you got up from the table. After some back and forth arguing, he eventually took care of the bill despite your protests and the night felt near its finish much to your disappointment.

It was the weekend and you’ve been trying to go out with your friends more and they had asked to meet up later—but both you and Jungkook had to tell them maybe.

“Do we have to?” He asked, taking your bag in one hand and holding yours with the other, “You think they’ll get a little suspicious if we’re both gone?”

You walked with him across the restaurant toward the entrance. You weren’t paying much attention to the people you passed, “I’m sure they know.”

Your response surprised him a bit and he couldn’t help but ask, “Really? Has it been that obvious?”

“Yeah, Jimin called me out on it the other night,” you shrugged, reaching for your bag to look for chapstick while he led you to the front. You couldn’t meet his eyes because you sensed where this was going.

“What’d he say?” Jungkook asked slowing his pace for you.

You blinked nervously, distracting yourself with your lipbalm as you tried sounding casual, “He asked why we were being so sneaky at the bar.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened slightly, opening the door for you as he said, “Damn, what did you say?”

“I said because we’re together.”

You tried being slick about it and slide past him without much attention but it was useless. He stood in front of you with a smile on his face, “Oh, we are? I don’t remember you clarifying that. Can you remind me when you asked me to be your man?”

“Oh god, don’t act like that,” you whined shyly.

“I’m sorry baby, I gotta hear you say it with your own words. What’d you tell him?” Jungkook blocked your path, hands finding your waist and keeping you from running. He liked making you flustered and you had no idea how you left him with a racing heart.

You pouted, looking at him seriously, “Jungkook.”

The two of you stood outside the restaurant looking like a playful couple that maybe had one too many drinks but it was all Jungkook’s fault. He wouldn’t let it go to rest and even had the nerve to smirk as he teasingly said, “That’s not how you say ‘Boyfriend’.”

“You’re ridiculous, we talked about this,” you said, focused on his chest to hide your embarrassment.

Jungkook just grinned mischievously, “What did you tell him?”

“I said you were my boyfriend,” you mumbled into his chest.

“Your what?” He asked trying to step back and get a good look at your face, “Come on baby, don’t get shy on me now.”

You whined, “Jung—“

“Your what?” He was laughing now, not caring for whoever might pass them and stare because he felt good. Too good to be affected by a stranger’s judgement.

“My boyfriend,” you sighed with embarrassment, “You heard me the first time, goof.”

“That’s what I thought, alright, you ready to go?” He asked with a chuckled as he took your hand in his ready to walk with you to the car.

“Y/n?”

You both stopped in your step, wondering if it really was your name you had heard. You looked back toward the rest, eyes threatening to widen with surprise as you looked at the person who stood at the entrance. She was with a group of people all headed inside but when she saw you, she stopped.

“Miyoung, hey,” You cleared your throat awkwardly, your demeanor changing completely.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” She asked as her eyes trailed behind you where Jungkook was looking at you with worry and confusion. He wanted to make sure everything would be alright, knowing how Miyoung would react. He didn’t want your good night to be ruined over something petty.

“What do you mean? I’m uh, I was just having dinner,” you said stiffly, looking back at Jungkook which proved to be a mistake because it seemed to solidify his presence to her.

“With jungkook?” She asked with a snappy tone. Miyoung shooed away her friends, telling them to go in without her as she approached you.

“Yeah.”

“Why?” Her brow arched with amusement, clearly ticked off and in disbelief by what she saw before her. Like usual, the situation seemed much worse than it really was.

It was time for you to be up front. What’s the point in putting yourself out there and letting yourself open up to him if you wouldn’t have the courage to make it known? You swallowed dryly, “Because we’re… dating.”

Jungkook had stepped back from the situation, not wanting to worsen it so he stood off by a light post not too far for a smoke break. He tried distracting himself with lighting his cigarette but he couldn’t help but freeze up when you said that. It brought a shy smile to his face as he waited for you to finish.

“No, you’re not,” Miyoung scoffed looking back at Jungkook as if betrayed by him too. You blinked with confusion, what did she mean you’re not? Did she expect you to be joking or back down? “We are.”

Miyoung stood in front of you now, slightly taller, “Y/n, you’ve been ignoring me for weeks and now you’re saying you’re dating my ex boyfriend? What kind of friend are you?”

This time it was you who scoffed lightly, looking away from her to try and process what you would say but you had spent too much time already trying to think it over, “The thing is, um, I’ve been kind of wondering the same about you.”

“Me?” She looked down at you genuinely taken back, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat and tried to gather the courage to just say it. You could feel Jungkook around, listening but giving you space and it was like a push start for you to say what was really on your mind, “I’m just tired of feeling like I’m the only one who puts effort into being friends and I don’t see the point in always fighting. We’re not together, we don’t have to be friends if it always has to be some sort of argument. It’s getting tiring at this point and I think maybe it’s best we just distance ourselves from each other.”

“You’re kidding, right? I’m like the only person who really cares about you, Y/n. Don’t act stupid.”

Although that made Jungkook want to intervene and tell her how very wrong she was, he didn’t. He didn’t want to speak for you. He knew you could speak for yourself and he should let you, even if he was itching to cut in.

“No, I don’t think you are. I know you think you are so you always tell me you are, but you’re not. People like me for me and not just because I’m friends with you,” you said coldly and your tone was definitive it left her speechless. It had to be one of the first times you were ever remotely close to snappy with her and she didn’t expect it.

“I know it’s hard for you to think of me as my own person but I don’t have to do what you want,” You said, “And I think you only boss me around and act sneaky behind my back because you’re threatened by me.”

She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. What you said left her rendered quiet. You waited too, waited to see if she would tell you to stand down but she didn’t and you didn’t give her time too, “ But I think I should go, I don’t want to bother your dinner any longer—and uh, maybe we just shouldn’t contact each other anymore.”

Jungkook had forgotten about his smoke break, jaw nearly to the floor at how confident you sounded. It was obvious you had never spoken to Miyoung that way but she couldn’t even deny what you said. You did it so casually and like you couldn’t care less which made you seem mature compared to Miyoung’s tantrums.

“Why was that kind of hot?” Jungkook asked as you finally reached him under the light post. Miyoung had stormed off with an evil glare that he ignored telling you how “You’re done”.

He looked down at you with hazed eyes, amazed and enamored. You scrunch your face curiously, “What was?”

“You, right now,” He chuckled, reaching for your hand in his, “Kind of scary too. Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

“You’re exaggerating,” you tried to laugh it off, “I wasn’t mean, was I?”

It was so dumb of you to still be worried about it but you couldn’t help it.

“No, you were calm and casual but that was so scary,” Jungkook gasped dramatically, “Because I know you were mad at her—… it was mean but only a little and so very very hot, and you’re doing all this in that dress…”

Without meaning to be, Jungkook was sort of like your hype man. You were worried about being too harsh, you still are, but he made you feel better about it. Part of you will never not feel in the wrong for being with Jungkook but you’ve gotten the rest off your chest and it felt good. Maybe you were a bit mean or maybe you weren’t, you could never be entirely sure but Jungkook seemed to be on your side no matter what.

“You like my dress?” You asked him with a teasing smile as he held the car door open for you.

“I really do,” he played with his lip ring, looking down at you.

“Then take it off me.”

“Oh fuck,” Jungkook whispered to himself as he looked around the parking lot, “Here?”

You broke out into a laugh as you sat down. Your words got to him easier than you thought and he sighed, “You can’t say that shit to me, Y/n. I’ll actually do it.”

“Let’s go back to my place and see if you can keep your word then,” you told him, watching him close the door with a tense jaw just thinking about it.

You can’t do this to him. You can’t be shy and cute one second and then act like that. You can’t. That’s not fair to him. How is he supposed to not be affected when you say things that get his heart racing while looking so cute? Was this what it would be like dating you? Just constantly caught by surprise?

He did like the way you stood up for yourself. He liked that you spoke your mind more freely than before and he takes joy in hearing you flirt back. In the beginning it felt like he was the one always trying to get you to talk to him or notice him and now you’re saying things that make his head dizzy.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, yknow?” Jungkook asked after the painfully long car ride back to your apartment. He was removing his coat as you sat on the edge of your bed to undo your shoes.

You let out an amused laugh, “What do you mean?”

“I mean… you act all shy and innocent and then you say shit that…” Jungkook let out a groan, “I can’t explain it, you just drive me crazy.”

“In a good way or bad way?” You asked, following him with your eyes as he closed the space between you two until he was at the end of the bed standing in front of you.

“A good way,” he said softly, “I’m finding more sides of you I’ve never seen.”

“And you like it?” You asked shyly, feeling his hands curl around your jaw.

“I do, a lot,” he confessed brushing his lips against yours, “I don't know what I would’ve done if I lost my chance with you again.”

::.

NO PART TWO

oml yall this took me forever to come up with 😭 I went through at least six other ideas before deciding on this one and I can’t tell how happy I am with it yet but I tried my hardest not the disappoint 🥹 I miss being more active and taking to you all but life has been so busy lately

please let me know how you feel and I promise I’ll try to be more active 🫶🏽

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @skzthinker @unnatae @beautywine @lilliankoo @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @whoa-jo @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @dream-cvtcher @jksjx @kissyfacekoo @joyjunk @caro134340lina @hyunjinswifeee @oldermenluverrr @caro134340lina @olivialeesstuff [taglist is too long so I’ll have to make two versions of it]

#jeon jungkook #Jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook bts #bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook one shot #jungkook oneshot #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook angst #jungkook drabble #jungkook fiction #jungkook imagine #bts smut #lost & found #jungkook fluff #jungkook fic recs

[genderkoolaid]

Tranny. Many people don’t know the history of the word, they assume it was an assigned hate term or slur along the lines of the “n” word. That’s not how it happened. Tranny was invented by us in Sydney, Australia in the 1970s where drag was a big deal, and still the best drag shows ever are in Sydney, Australia – they’re amazing. So a lot of trans-identified women who were assigned male at birth did drag, that’s how you made your living. And so they were transsexuals, transvestites, drag queens, and they were all doing drag to make money. They all bickered amongst each other who is better than who, “Well the drag queens are better,” “No, the transsexuals are better.” “You are all freaks, we’re better.” And on and on and on. But they worked together and they were family together, so they came up with a word that would say family and that was tranny. In Australia they do the diminutive, that’s how they come up with words. So tranny. I learned the word in the mid-1980s, late 1980s from my drag mom in San Francisco, Doris Fish, who was the city’s preeminent drag queen and she’d come from Sydney. And she schooled me in this word tranny, she said, “This way it means we’re family, darling.” “Thank you mama.” [...] So we used it and we were trannies together. And F to M was just beginning to start, the trans men were just beginning to become visible, Lou Sullivan was a neighbor of mine around the corner, and he was the first big out trans man, wrote his book. So trans men and cross dressers . . . cross dressers were also family. Transsexuals, we were all trannies and that felt good. That got into the sex industry and became a genre – there was tranny porn, there were tranny sex workers – chicks with dicks, she-males. [...] And, my only guess is that people who . . . because the only way they would have found out about the word is if they were watching tranny porn or having been with a tranny sex worker and then hated themselves so much that they turned it into a curse word. So it’s not really technically correct to say we’re reclaiming a word – it was always ours. So, many people mistake the word for the hatred behind the word and, in my generation, and I’m sure in future generations of trans people, tranny is going to be a radicalized, sexualized identity of trans in the same way that faggot is a prideful identity in the gay male community – not all gay men are faggots, but those who are are proudly fags and those who are dykes are proudly dykes within the lesbian community, trannies are proudly tranny within the transgender community. Does that mean we can’t call ourselves that because some trans woman does not want to be called a tranny? No. I’m going to keep calling myself a tranny. To the trans woman who gets called tranny, I’m sorry – as soon as . . . you’ve got to look at why you’re getting called tranny and if you don’t pass, you’re going to be read as a transgender person and then you fall back on the cultural view of trans folk which is freak, disgusting, not worth living, we can hurt you. It has nothing to do with the word, it has everything to do with the cultural attitude. So the word has stirred up a shit storm, but it’s not the word.

— Kate Bornstein on the word "tranny" in this oral history from the Digital Transgender Archive

#m. #the whole interview is very interesting i recommend watching/listening/reading

[karinasbaby]

PARK JONGSEONG — TOUCH ME, FEEL ME.

— “come here and put it on my face, it’s like you know how good you taste.”

PAIRING: ceo!jay x model fem!reader (+17)

FEATURING… heeseung, jaeyun, sunghoon & sunoo (enhypen), ningning (aespa), yeonjun (txt), nicholas (&team).

WARNINGS: my third attempt at slight fluff, reader obv works in the modelling industry, making out, unprotected sex, oral (f & m), lots of kissing and make out sessions, usage of toys, jay is in love (sickeningly), soft dom jay !! dumbification, overstimulation (I can’t remember anymore pls tell me if I missed any)

WORD COUNT. 15.6k (HUH)

SYNOPSIS: a sneak peak into the life of Seoul’s most popular CEO along with the top model of the country.

៹ — A,NOTE. this is unfortunately NOT PROOFREAD / EDITED entirely, some sections are while some aren’t so pls pls ignore all grammatical errors / typos made as im finishing this off at 6 am without sleep and will be fixing it up tmrw <3 (pls pls read a,note 2 at the end !!)

— this one’s directed to my dearest hana for being there at 4 am to simp over jay (& hee but shhh) together + all my tall engenes bcs i hear u, i see u and i feel u baby. (and all my jay girlies too)

Park jongseong is a very busy man.

Presenting himself as a busy, workaholic and paperwork obsessed man was considered the norm in his building. The unhealthy attachment jongseong had to his office— specifically to his desk was one that raised eyebrows at South Korea’s most popular Chief Executive Officer.

The Park Corp. that his father generously built a stable foundation for back when he was still a young adult navigating his way through the business industry was now passed down to his trusted son in hopes of extending their empire all over the continent.

Hence the reason as to why the phrase “Park Jongseong was destined for success” rang throughout the young ceo’s ears within every vicinity his feet graced, yet jongseong couldn’t completely wrap his head around his ‘success’

In his younger years, he believed the life of luxury and success that he lived was considered normal. That was until he pursued a degree outside of his birth country and had to settle in a small apartment— taking care of his own self without the help of any maids that he had grown accustomed to back at home.

Jongseong could still remember his father’s constant pestering to change his mind, his father could’ve bought him the university he was studying at yet jongseong insisted on an average, one bedroom apartment in a semi-safe neighbourhood for his education by using the excuse of building up his experience.

Easily, his university years became his favourite. He was allowed his first taste of the average life, the normal one. where he was given the privilege to form friendships and bonds with people whom didn’t beg for his attention while staring directly into his pockets. The first taste of his own cooked meals when he got severely sick after a random takeout from a sketchy restaurant.

His first ever friend group flourished in front of his eyes without disappearing after a few months. His two bestfriends— Park Sunghoon along with Sim Jaeyun effortlessly altered his whole point of view on life, with unexpected rendezvous to grocery stores past midnight, random road trips after finishing their mind numbing exams, unexpected deep conversations about life that took place on the floor of jongseong’s apartment and the look of genuine care and affection in sunghoon and jaeyun’s eyes, jongseong felt normalcy.

He felt protected, he felt loved. Sure he was born to very caring parents, yet at his young age, he easily was able to tell the importance of work to his father when he would randomly disappear for weeks without any warning— leading jongseong to call him usually on the fourth day of his absence to ask when he was intending on returning.

“I can’t return yet son, our next meeting with The Kim’s company is scheduled in a week.” Or some other company meeting that was considered more important than jongseong’s own need of his presence in his life by miles.

He understood his father’s side perfectly now that he was placed in his exact position, the importance of work, meetings and the worry of the small voice in the back of his head grumbling about the possibility of failure and losing decades worth of his, his father’s and his grandfather’s hard work.

Yet with the headache that was splitting his head into two separate halves the longer he stared at his papers— the sight of the letters turning into gibberish along with his wrist’s automatic turn to land his signature on the papers, he couldn’t help but think ‘was it that hard?’ surely his father could have returned back for a few hours to watch his son shape himself into the man he grew to be— to comfort him during the days where he would have difficulty at school or problems with his friend, to see him accept his diploma.

Well, his father couldn’t. While his mother on the other hand decided to surprise her son after claiming that she had to join his father on a business trip when she stood up in the middle of the crowd to clap proudly when he went atop the stage, resulting in a bewildered and shocked jongseong to shake hands with his principal who was aggressively slapping his back while jongseong was staring in disbelief into his mother’s tear filled eyes with his own misty ones.

It was safe to say that jongseong had always had a healthier relationship with his mother than his father, it was thanks to her brilliant idea to open up the first branch dedicated to fashion under The Park Corp. that jongseong’s entire life changed.

Jongseong’s mother sacrificed years of her work to raise him to the best of her ability while his dad was working day and night to hopefully see his company see the light of success, during those years his mother was the first and only person to know and acknowledge jongseong’s passion for fashion designing.

The memory of his mother praising a doodle of a dress that he had made when his age was still in singular digits was imprinted in his mind, from her approval of the colour he chose to pointing out almost unnoticeable mistakes with certain parts of the ruffles along the shoulders— his mother shaped his fashion designing skills as he improved tremendously, a fire lighting up in his heart for designing pure art.

Though this new branch under his company meant more excessive work, more sleepless nights and less breaks. Jongseong made the decision to pull one of his joker cards that he was blessed with— Sim Jaeyun.

Assigning Jaeyun as the head of the branch was undoubtedly one of the best decisions he had made, the sight of jaeyun’s shocked eyes gazing at his own serious ones as he proposed the idea to his best friend was one that he will always remember vividly,

“Are you serious?” Jaeyun breathed out, his stare so intense on jongseong’s as he tried to unravel every and each layer of his expression in search of one tinge that would confirm his suspicions of this whole proposal being an entire joke, yet he spotted none.

when the burst of laughter from jongseong never arrived, fully leaving no room for jokes while the unexpected silence from Jaeyun was beginning to concern jongseong— Jaeyun threw himself into jongseong’s arms in complete relief and appreciation.

And at jaeyun’s shaky whisper of “Thank you so much.” Into his ear, jongseong knew he made a great decision.

His love for this decision only increased day by day as his assistant was now showing him photos of the newly casted models that jaeyun had signed, some models had already contacted the agency while others were radio silent, jongseong was paying attention to every word coming out of his assistant’s mouth till his finger swiped to a picture of a girl outside of a cafe,

“Who’s this?” Jongseong questioned, his eyebrows furrowing in focus at the back profile of the woman who was facing away from the camera, “Her name is y/n, she’s yet to contact us back—“ “where did you see her?” Jongseong cut him off,

His assistant, Sunghoon raised an eyebrow as jongseong never questioned the locations he was casting his models from— hell he barely even had time to know about jaeyun casting models let alone who they are, and now he’s suddenly asking where you’re from?

“The newly opened cafe, I don’t have her email yet— “ “then find it and sent it to me.” Jongseong interrupted once again resulting in sunghoon glaring at him for cutting him off, he huffed once he noticed jongseong was reaching for his phone, clearly displaying to sunghoon his annoyance.

“Why are you suddenly inter—“ “your break’s over.” Sunghoon had to bite his tongue from saying anything back to his best friend whom he sometimes forgot was also his boss as he closed the door to jongseong’s office behind him after he walked out.

And that was the day that jongseong’s life took another shift into a positive direction, the day where he decided to increase sunghoon’s paycheck for street casting you, for spotting you and bringing you into his life.

Here was jongseong now, approximately two years after establishing one of the most successful modelling agencies in the continent under jaeyun’s control, sitting in his office chair eating the lunch you had prepared for him as your schedule was empty this morning.

“When’s your next shoot, my love?” Jongseong spoke after swallowing, lifting his head to allow the sight of you sitting giddily on his boring leather couch to grace his eyes, you were always glowing in his office, casting a beautiful ray of light to the dull and lifeless space of his.

Especially now that you were wearing one of his own designs, a cute skirt paired with a cropped blazer, your hair styled prettily as you sat and fiddled with your fingers in excitement, “it’s at seven, are you going to visit me then?” You asked.

Even if you had attempted to hide your expectant tone of seeing him at your photoshoot and supporting you from behind the camera, jongseong easily detected it, he studied and observed everything about you.

“Of course I will, angel.” He replied, hands busy with reaching for a tissue as he finished his food, his eyes instantly falling back onto his paperwork before trailing back on you, “what time is it now?” You quickly checked your wrist watch “it’s two thirty,” he hummed at your response, “we should get going then.” He spoke out.

“But your meeting—“ “I’ll tell sunghoon to clear my schedule today, angel.” He ended before standing up, his figure tall in front of the sunlight in his office, he quickly reached behind for his blazer, the sunlight illuminating all of his veins and muscles as they flexed according to his movements, you totally weren’t distracted.

Once he coolly threw his jacket atop his shoulders, he walked towards you on the couch, “isn’t it too early? I mean we still have around four hours.” He pushed his glasses up his nose bridge as he looked downwards to meet your eyes, “I know, can’t I spend some time with my girlfriend before her photoshoot?” He smiled before reaching to take your hand.

You both step out of his office, your heels echoing throughout the halls of the floor while jongseong wrapped a protective arm around your waist guiding you towards the elevator.

You didn’t notice, but the sound of your heels had attracted some looks from jongseong’s workers, specifically from the newly hired employee that was on his first week of work, in jongseong’s peripheral vision he saw the movement of the new guy, very obviously swivelling his chair to get a good look while his coworker snickered at his gawking eyes, jongseong instantly recognised the agitating laughter— fucking yeonjun.

His laughter was instantly silenced when jongseong turned his head, he heard the screeching sounds of multiple chairs returning hastily to their original positions before he even fully turned, and with one sharp glare in yeonjun and the new employee’s direction, jongseong made a note to transfer both of them to a different department, as it wasn’t the first time yeonjun eyed his woman.

And he for sure wasn’t about to have another yeonjun around his office.

With a quick text to sunghoon, jongseong reached towards the wall next to the elevator, pressing the button before he returned his arm around your body, purposefully lowering his hand to your hip as he pulled you closer, “jong, your employees will see..” you whispered, aware of the fact that jongseong wasn’t the most comfortable when it came to publicly showing you affection. “Let them see.” He whispered back, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

Jongseong relished in the quiet gasps behind him along with the slight blush dusting your cheeks before the elevator dinged and he quickly pulled you inside with him.

He kept his arm secured around you till you reached the ground floor of his building, his hand then dropped to interlock with yours as both of you stepped outside of the gates, jongseong reached his other hand inside of his pocket once he neared his car, pulling out the keys to hand over to his bodyguard before he opened the back seat door for you.

It wasn’t common for jongseong to not drive his car, mainly handing over his keys on days where he felt exhausted or had begrudgingly drunk alcohol, yet before you could question his reasoning for today, he leaned forward towards your ear as you were entering the car, “I’ve missed you so bad, angel.” He whispered.

His low tone sent shivers done your spine, suddenly his touch felt like fire when his fingertips brushed against your skirt as you were sitting down, he quickly walked to the other side of the car before he sat down atop the leather seats next to you,

“Where to, sir?” His guard, Nicholas asked whilst he had his eyes glued on the road, “Home, and roll up the partition” his hands were itching to reach out and to touch you, to hold you as his black pants had started to feel tighter than usual,

After his reply to Nicholas, Jongseong couldn’t wait any further, his hand reached up to loosen the black tie around his neck, fingers quickly moving to unbutton his shirt slightly, allowing his tan chest to be exposed to the golden sunlight.

The sight of Jongseong brushing his hand through his black locks as he turned his body towards you made your heart thump loudly in your chest, his breathes turning heavy while his arms moved towards you, wrapping around your waist before pulling you closer to him,

His lips found home on the skin of your neck, placing soft and long kisses while goosebumps arose on your skin under his touch, you felt yourself becoming lightheaded once he began to suck gently, leaving behind faint marks of his love on you.

“Jong…” you breathed out heavily, eyelids closed tight as you basked in the feeling of his touch all over you, “shhh, I’ve got you baby.” His kisses trailed upwards, aligning across your jawline as they turned into mouth opened kisses, jay’s hands slipped onto your exposed thighs, gently caressing your skin beneath his fingers while he groaned against your neck,

“Let me please you, Jong. Please,” you whispered in his hold, the desperate tone in your low voice made him feel lightheaded, even if jongseong had different plans of him pleasing you, he didn’t have the heart to decline your sweet offer, not when you were looking at him with your twinkling eyes, eager to please him and to love him.

He nodded his head in approval, not quite trusting his voice after feeling the small lump in his throat when you instantly lowered yourself in whatever empty space that was available in his car, your knees resting against the floor while your hands were running up and down his thighs, caressing his flexing muscles before they moved upwards to wrap around his belt.

Once your hands had discarded his belt, he lifted his hips slightly to aid you with finally freeing his throbbing length that stood tall against his lower stomach, a small and shiny dribble of his precum trailing down from his aching red tip with the veins along his underside becoming more prominent, the sight was enough to make your mouth water.

“There you go, angel.” He breathed out in relief as he would have exploded had he stayed another second inside the infuriating tightening of his pants, “come on angel girl, touch me.” The encouraging tone in his voice made you instantly move, your hand wrapping around his aching member while the other rested against his warm thigh, casting goosebumps along his skin.

Jongseong felt his throat dry up once you blew cold air teasingly on his tip, and before he could process, you quickly wrapped your plump and glossy lips around the head of his length, the warmth of your mouth and your tongue instantly circling around him was enough to have him feel as if he was melting against the leather seats.

“Fuck..” he breathed out, eyes closing shut as the pleasure ran through his veins the further you moved, circling your tongue around his aching length before sucking more of him down your throat, the slight tightening making shivers trail along his body.

He felt slight goosebumps forming all over him once your nails began to softly scratch his thighs before your hands gently caressed his skin, you moved your head up and down, each movement drawing out a longer sigh of his heaving chest, jongseong could feel the familiar tightening in his lower abdomen, his release gradually building up the further your spit trailed down his base and pooled around his inner thighs,

Jongseong’s hands reached towards yours that rested against his thighs, he quickly interlocked his fingers with yours, gently squeezing your hand to indicate the approach of his climax, you hummed around him making his hips jerk forward at the sudden vibration,

He whispered your name in heavy breathes, attempting his best to stay quiet in the moving vehicle, yet it seemed impossible now that you started to push him down further, your nose inching closer to his pelvis once you began to deepthroat his cock, jongseong’s legs began to twitch under your interlocked hands while low moans escaped his throat, ones he desperately tried to suppress.

And with a few movements of your head, jongseong finally allowed the euphoria of his release to wash down his body in waves, one more intense than the other as his eyes rolled back in pleasure, shaky moans of your name rolling off his tongue while his hands tightened around yours, thick ropes of his release shooting down your throat yet you didn’t let go of him yet, aiding him in riding out his high once you began to move up and down again, swallowing what he had to offer while his swollen tip was hitting the back of your throat, pleasantly overstimulating him.

“angel— please.. s-stop..” He stuttered out in shaky breathes, begging you to stop yet his hands still tightened around yours, you moaned lowly at his salty flavour on your tongue once you moved upwards, kissing and suckling on his leaking tip as he coated your tongue and your throat in his taste.

And once his legs and hips began to twitch uncontrollably, you pulled yourself away from him, jongseong opened his eyes to a sight that will knock his breath out of his lungs, if only you knew you heavenly you looked with your eyes teary, cheeks flushed red and your lips swollen, coated with a sheen layer of his cum as you looked up at him with your twinkling gaze, breathing heavily while you gently wiped away at the milky white droplet at the corner of your mouth, bringing it to your tongue.

Jongseong was fighting every voice and urge in his head to not pull you into his lap and make love to you in the backseat of his car, he knew Nicholas was a mere four minutes away from arriving at your house, yet the way your eyes were practically eating him up were making all his rational thoughts disappear from his head one by one,

“You did so well for me, baby.” He praised before pulling you upwards, his hands finding home around your waist as he placed you next to him in the backseat, his lips easily finding your neck to trail his love filled kisses across your skin, “jongseong..” you whispered once your eyes caught the familiar scenery from the window, Nicholas had basically arrived at your house.

Your hands quickly pulled his away from around you, trailing down to help him in wearing his clothes in worry of Nicholas suddenly lowering the partition to announce your arrival, jongseong chuckled as he quickly fixed his belt before gently grabbing onto your neck to pull you closer once again, you placed a feathery kiss on his lips, “we can continue this at home, baby.” And at your words, jongseong nodded with his lovesick eyes glued to your every move.

You also might’ve been a little late to your photoshoot.

Jongseong was yet again, swivelling in his office chair while biting back toothy smiles as a random employee along with sunghoon were discussing the placement of a new coffee machine since the older one stops working every now and then.

Their voices completely distorted for jongseong who kept swiping between photos on his phone, his feet finally planted on the ground to stop the movement of his chair, the back of the large chair hiding away his eyes that were twinkling in amusement from both men in his room.

His fingers stopped as the video of your latest appearance on the runway finally loaded, jongseong fixed his posture, sitting upright while his grip on his phone tightened, he felt his heart racing in the familiar rhythm that only you were able to generate, the tip of his fingers buzzing, his leg shaking up and down in excitement at the sight of you walking down in the video.

The video filmed by one of his designers, showcasing you from a perfect angle, the styling of your hair, the dress that he had sketched himself on one blessed night with you sleeping soundly next to him was now hugging all of your curves perfectly, the same heels he had suggested your stylist Yizhuo now clicking against the runway floor.

Jongseong’s eyes were stuck on you, suddenly all the other models that were walking past you or walking after you were blurred from his sight, he could only see you wrapped up in his designs as you made your way to the front of the runway, your eyes shining with confidence while you glowed in radiance, your aura fierce and sharp.

He took notice of the way most of the guests’ heads followed your body, some too busy talking with whoever was besides them about your appearance while others stared with their mouths slightly open, if only you knew the power and beauty you radiated.

And once you had reached the front, all focus on you with the camera desperately attempting to capture all of your angles, you blew a kiss to the camera along with a quick wink shooting a very quick arrow into your lover’s chest and countless other people before smiling charmingly and turning around.

Jongseong was holding back multiple groans and sighs back as he held his chest, his heart racing rapidly while his face got warmer, he forced himself to continue watching the video, to watch the way you swayed your hips while the dress fluttered around your legs, multiple heads turning to face the direction your were walking back to.

Jongseong felt heat spread all over his body, heart thundering against his ribs as he attempted to suppress a wide smile from spreading across his blushing face, jongseong was now replaying the video, his eyes memorising your every move as you strutted with countless pairs of eyes following your movements.

And at your sweet smile, jongseong remembered the memory of his first meeting with you, he had tagged along with sunghoon who was called by jaeyun for your first photoshoot, the ‘newly casted models’ photoshoot, jaeyun knew he had to get the opinions of both his best friends and his own boss.

Multiple bodies moved throughout the dressing room, the voices of many stylists layering upon eachother as they discussed certain aspects of their models’ look with said model or they ordered their assistants to collect certain items for them,

Various shapes and sounds were echoing in the room from the sound of heels being tested and worn to the clacking sounds of palettes being closed or open, jongseong’s eyes caught sunghoon who was lost in a conversation with one of their main photographers— Heeseung, the tall man was sporting a boyish smile on his face as he joked with sunghoon, a large camera dangling from around his neck below his necklaces.

Jongseong’s head then turned to spot Jaeyun with his assistant sunoo, Jaeyun listing down the props and equipment needed for the shoot while sunoo was jotting down each word in his notebook, nodding along to jaeyun’s focused tone as his eyes travelled all over the set, the first photoshoot always had to be perfect.

Hushed whispers and giggles surrounded jongseong once he finally took notice of the multiple models staring at him, quickly averting their gazes while their hands covered the blushing lower half of their faces, their body language giving them away instantly as one was now playing with her hair while the other returned her gaze to him, sending countless signals of her interest in the young ceo that he paid no mind to.

Jongseong believed that he didn’t have any time for love, with no intentions of finding a lover and starting his own family, especially not when the possibility of him neglecting his own family whether it was intentional or not weighed heavily on his shoulders, he didn’t want to repeat his history.

He believed that as long as his heart remained unclaimed, entertaining himself with a few one night stands and hookups here and there from when his stress would get the best of him or his sexual frustration entirely takes over his body, he was good to go.

Yet jongseong couldn’t really keep lying to himself, he yearned for someone to love and appreciate him, to see and hear him for himself, Park Jongseong, and not ceo Jay Park.

He had given up on such love a long time ago, the hope in his heart ripping apart the longer his dates consisted of questions about his family, his business and his work life. His dates rarely ever asking him about his own interests, how his childhood had been like and what sorts of hobbies he had picked up.

Jongseong’s expectancy for someone to hopefully ask him about his fashion designing career so he could finally talk about his mother’s abilities to shape his skills were quickly dissipating.

Wishing for the day he’ll be able to talk about his hidden talent of music, his rare guitar collection and his countless lyric-filled notebooks with someone who gazed at him with love and interest, with pure curiosity in his hobbies and passions.

And so after countless failed dates filled with short and bitter replies of his work, jongseong fully lost hope, opting to live a single life with an empty space occupying his heart.

Jongseong was never a religious man.

Yet he desperately attempted to understand why the deities above struggled and refused to give him someone whom he could cherish and love, he swore he had enough love to give.

He had finally decided to ‘trust the process’ just as his mother had told him whenever discussions of his concerningly empty love life were brought up during their spontaneous lunches and dinners together, ultimately cutting his random dates spree short and waiting patiently for his person to hopefully walk into his life.. maybe?

And thank god he had decided to trust the process, he thanked all deities above and his mother at the memory of you making your first eye contact with him through the mirror of your table with you sitting, fidgeting nervously with your fingers as your anxiety was eating you up alive, your stylist and makeup artist Yizhuo hovering next to you as she was expertly applying your foundation while attempting to calm your nerves down.

In the middle of answering Yizhuo’s distracting question about your favourite serum— your sight had caught a dark brown pair of eyes, ones that gazed into yours deeply, your heart skipped a beat at the unknown man’s gaze that weirdly managed to calm you down for the first time in the past few hours, quickly studying his perfectly sculpted face, you concluded that maybe he’s another model who’s been casted, not recognising the ceo of your own agency.

Yizhuo had caught on your silence, her eyes quickly darting to your own ones that were stuck on the mirror, following your line of vision, she also made eye contact with jongseong, who quickly averted his gaze as he choked on his own spit in embarrassment.

He quickly covered it up with a cough, Yizhuo however was now looking back at you with her eyes wide. “What is he even doing here?” She whispered in bewilderment, a smile creeping up her lips at the fact that she had caught jongseong— her cold hearted ceo who hadn’t looked in woman’s way in a few years now, staring at you.

“Is he not supposed to be here?” You whispered back, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you looked back at the man, once again catching his gaze, this time you were able to point out the slight, almost unnoticeable redness that coated his ears, was he blushing?

But god he was so beautiful, his sharp eyes were practically drinking you up, his nose bridge high as it became dusted with a pretty rose, way prettier than the multitude blushes you had infront of you on the table and his glossy, pink lips looked so inviting.

“He never comes here..” Yizhuo points out, her focus now shifting to locating her favourite pressed powder— well, before her hand smacked your shoulder, “Why are you two staring at each other again?!” She whisper yelled, paying no mind to your low hiss at the spreading pain around your arm, your eye contact with the godly man was cut short with yizhuo’s continuous whispers of excitement.

“How am I supposed to know! He’s the one that keeps looking back.” You whispered, your voice clearly reflecting your flustered state as it got higher with every word, “Do you think he’s cute?” She asked you, awaiting your answer with a million thoughts rushing through her head, with the main one being ‘was this it?’

“He’s breathtaking, Yizhuo.” You replied, an incredulous expression on your face at her stupid question. Unbeknownst to you, jongseong was still watching the interaction between you and your stylist, he also might have heard your exchanged whisper yells but he couldn’t bring himself to care as his attention was on calming his heart down from bursting.

Jongseong instantly recognised you from your portfolio, your beauty in real life easily captivating him and caging his heart in a way he could have only dreamed of, he made sure to send his mother additional bouquets with the weekly ones he sends her this time, because the moment he saw you quickly flash him a smile when Yizhuo turned around followed by a small, shy wave— he knew he made the right decision with ‘trusting the process.’

“Do you even know the amount of calls jaeyun has redirected to me just this past hour, jongseong?” Sunghoon’s irritated voice brought jongseong back to the present, his lovesick gaze focusing on his phone screen again, the video of you walking down the runway on loop in front of him, showing him a complete contrast from your first nervewrecking photoshoot to now, your first runway.

Words could not fully explain the pride he felt blooming in his chest, he felt so so proud of you for standing with power and manifesting all of your dreams into your reality one by one, having the privilege of listening to all your worries and thoughts about your career, jongseong felt honoured that you trusted him enough to let him see you in your lowest moments, and allowing him to cradle you safely in his arms to comfort you, assuring you that you’ll work out.

Now seeing all of your highest moments made him feel incredibly proud of you.

“And here comes another one.” Sunghoon sighed loudly in hopes of catching his boss’ attention, jongseong cleared his throat before locking his phone, turning his chair back to face sunghoon, he assumed the employee from earlier had taken his leave and left a very upset and irritated sunghoon in his office.

“What calls are you getting redirected from jaeyun?” Jongseong questioned, pushing himself back into his work mindset before he began fangirling in the middle of his office, he could delay his giggles and smiles till he’s back at home because at this current moment he wanted to figure out what exactly had managed his assistant to carry a sour expression on his face.

“Different agencies and brands asking for our models portfolios and other shit— just to somehow secure a contract with them,” he sighed in frustration while declining another unknown number before rubbing his hands all over his face as he felt a slight headache forming, “half of Korea’s agencies have called since the show ended, almost all of them asking for one specific model’s contact information.” He continued, jongseong’s eyes raised at the sudden popularity of a model under his agency,

Sunghoon was never one to exaggerate his words, nor would he get this frustrated and annoyed over phone calls, opting for an indifferent expression and cool tone when dealing with his work, it was difficult to throw him off his balance, whatever model was causing this chaos in jongseong’s agency by now had him sitting on the edge of his seat.

Jongseong thought of all the possible models who had gained immense popularity today due to it being his agency’s first runway show presented by Jaeyun along with his top designer and stylist Yizhuo— both very famous and impactful names in the fashion industry.

Could it be?—

“And as expected, it had to be y/n.” Jongseong had never felt his eyes snap open so widely, his mouth slightly agape as he stared at sunghoon who was standing right in front of his desk with his hands placed on his hips, clearly trying to emphasise his annoyance at jaeyun’s constant redirecting of phone calls.

“Y/n? As in my y/n, correct?” Attempting to make sure that his ears weren’t suddenly playing with him and at sunghoon’s nod of confirmation he knew to not doubt his ears again.

Jongseong couldn’t help the wide smile that spread across his face, sunghoon’s own annoyed act completely dropped at the view of his ceo grinning so genuinely for the first time in months.

The sight of jongseong— who usually carried a cold and stoic expression on his face breaking out of his ‘icy cold ceo’ shell and chuckling once his eyes landed on the framed photo atop his table of his beloved girlfriend was enough to make sunghoon smile himself.

He looked like a kid whose parent just bought him his favourite candy, a kid on the morning of Christmas bubbling with excitement, a pretty shimmer in his usually dark eyes that made warmth spread across the young assistant’s body.

“That’s good.. that’s really good. I’m sure she’s going to be happy at all the offers she got.” He replied, very obviously biting his lower lip to calm himself down and fight back yet another dumb grin from his assistant who was now staring at him in amusement as his boss tried to hide his flustered state,

“Your ears are red, you know…” sunghoon couldn’t help but point out the rare sight of jongseong’s ears reddening, he expected his boss’ face to deadpan, his smile to drop when he pointed out his flustered state, yet sunghoon was surprised again when jongseong literally giggled.

“Did you just-“ “shut the fuck up.” The ceo gritted out, clearing his throat to ultimately channel his work mode yet again, he lifted his gaze up to sunghoon’s smiling face before he rolled his eyes.

“Send me a list of all the agencies that called you today, hoon.” He quickly said, his hands reaching towards his leftover paper on his desk, opting to distract himself from the desperate need of seeing you and showering you with all his love for your success today, awarding you to the best of his ability for doing amazing on your first runway.

“Noted. Before I leave boss, I wanted to ask you about an event,” sunghoon’s own business mode switched on, his hands reaching towards his bag that he had placed on jongseong’s sofa upon his arrival to pull out his tablet, fingers quickly swiping across his screen to reach the photos of said event,

“I’m not sure if you have made the decision to attend yet, but y/n has been nominated for model of the year.” He started, his words once again resulting in a surprised jongseong, yet this time the boss had attempted his best to conceal his expressions, knowing how vital and important this certain award event could be for your career.

“The voting for the award has been online, and so far y/n has taken the lead with a gap as big as sixty thousand votes. Her winning the award is guaranteed by a hundered percent, Boss.” Sunghoon finished off, turning his tablet to show jongseong the voting results till now, and he could see your name very clearly on the top of the list, exactly where you belong.

“We’ll attend.”

And after countless, draining meetings, multiple coffee cups brought in by sunghoon to keep his boss awake, a multitude of disagreements and bickering from his assistant followed by whispers of his name around his building, said whispers mainly being questions about his relationship along with his personal life, jongseong finally breathed his first sigh of relief after a plethora of frustrated ones once his feet stepped inside of his shared house with his lover.

Jongseong could feel his frustration and stress leaving his body with every step he took, his steps heavy on your wooden floor that creaked quietly with his movements, each and every work related thought slowly dissolving from his mind to whispers that were pushed into the corners of his brain, he only had his focus and attention set on one goal, and it was to see you, to hold you, to finally shower you with his love and praise.

His feet ached atop the fluffy carpet in your room once he entered, hands reaching upwards to loosen the tie around his neck, blazer long forgotten in the backseat of his car as his eyes spotted your sleeping figure on the bed, his large shirt hugging your frame from beneath the blanket that was carelessly discarded on your body, indicating you being lost in a deep slumber.

Jongseong’s heart swelled at the comforting sight that he used to wish and hope for, the sight of his lover asleep on his bed clad in his clothing, head resting on his pillow with her nose nuzzling into the fabric that carried his soothing scent, the sight of his bed not empty.

If only you knew the amount of love your dear jongseong carried for you in his body, his love that knew no peak and only kept increasing day by day in a comforting manner, he knew his love for you held no limits as it took completely over his body at the mere thought of you.

The warmth that will spread across his chest, his ears slightly ringing while his eyes became unfocused, his fingers fidgeting with one another at the rush of emotions in his body like a teenage boy obsessing over his crush, all this over the mere mention or thought of you.

The effect you had on jongseong was one you weren’t completely aware of, it was one that sometimes worried jongseong, especially during the times where you were busy with your own work, he was brought back into a reality that didn’t have you by his side at specific moments, which resulted sometimes in a quite grumpy and needy jongseong.

One that desperately craved and yearned for your love and affection, both heart and body yearning for you with the warmth now spreading from the top of his head to his toes, the warmth that bloomed from deep within his chest, the temperature of his body increasing the more his steps brought him closer to your figure on his bed.

His body sat on the bed before he could stop himself, the worried thought of accidentally waking you up quickly disappearing when you only nuzzled closer to his pillow, a soft and content sigh falling from between your lips.

Jongseong’s hand had a mind of its own, he couldn’t stop his body from reaching out to touch you after a long, draining and exhausting day. His heart drumming when you leaned into his hand that caressed your cheek gently.

His lips had garnered their own mind as well since he was now whispering your name lovingly into the night, into the darkness of your room in hopes of finally having your sparkling eyes to open and land on him, and with repeated calls of your name with his hot breath right against your ear made your eyelids flutter open.

“Jongie..?” You called out for him, voice barely above a whisper as your eyes adjusted to the lack of light, you could make out your lover’s figure on the bed next to you, the familiar feeling of his skin against yours that brought you an immense amount of comfort, you could also hear his small chuckle at your sleepy voice,

“It’s me, my love.” He cooed. voice deep and tender, lips lifting to a lovesick smile that you weren’t able to see while he gazed at the way your hands released his pillow to wrap around his wrist, your warm skin contrasting his own cold one making shivers run down both of your spines, “welcome home,” you whispered, kissing the palm of his hand that was caressing your jaw, in blissful unawareness of the multiple beats jongseong’s heart had skipped.

“You did so amazing today, angel girl.” His body moved on the bed, coming up closer to yours as he hovered above you, his hands never once lifting an inch from your skin while you chuckled at his words, warmth spreading on your cheeks at his praise, you’d been waiting his reaction since the morning.

“I’ve been thinking about you the whole day, baby.” He whispered into your neck, his hands by now had trailed lower and lower, reaching the hem of his shirt, he toyed with the fabric. you hummed along to his words, closing your eyes to relish in the feeling of him so close to you, the heat of his body travelling onto yours pleasantly.

“What were you thinking about with me?” Keeping your tone hushed, your fingertips were trailing along his clothed arm, his muscles flexing lightly under your feathery touch, jongseong could already feel his pants becoming unbearably tighter, suffocating him even further at your low voice.

“Just how bad I wanted to come back home…” his hands finally dipped beneath your shirt, “how bad I wanted to come to you..” goosebumps appeared on your body as his icy fingertips brushed against your warm waist, “how bad I wanted to please you..” a soft gasp tumbled past your lips when his hand fondled with your breast, easily accessing your skin with no restrictions of a bra, “to praise you..” his eyes were glued onto your beautiful face, focusing on every expression you made from his slight movements.

His hands now moved downwards making you involuntarily spread your legs for him, his words and closeness casting a spell on you, “to make love to you..” he rested his palm against your core, your flimsy underwear doing a terrible job in hiding your wetness as jongseong’s breath hitched once he felt your warmth coating his palm completely while you whimpered under him.

“Baby, i need you to sit on my face right now.” he spoke against your neck, placing a quick kiss before pulling away from you after you nodded at his words, jongseong’s hands moved fast in a blur, unbuttoning his shirt and practically ripping it off his body, his hands then reached out to you, guiding you to balance on your knees while he pushed himself to lay on the bed beneath you.

“Just like that, angel girl.” Countless praises rolled off his tongue once you placed both of your thighs next to his head that rested against his pillow, you felt your face burn at the position, your breathes shortening when you looked below you to the sight of jongseong’s eyes darkening by the second, you attempted your best to hold onto the headboard, stabilising yourself as your mind felt like it was melting away once you felt his hot breath against your cunt.

“Fuck..” you softly whispered at the heat spreading along your body, your legs twitching next to his head when you felt your own wetness dripping down your inner thighs, jongseong took his sweet time in reaching to push your soaked panties to the side, his eyes almost rolling to the back of his head at the sight of your cunt glistening and aching for him.

He wasted no time in almost devouring your entire cunt, the tip of his tongue teasing against your sopping entrance only pulling away to circle your throbbing clit, sucking gently as he hummed at your sweet taste slowly coating his tongue, you mewled his name while your knuckles turned white around the headboard.

Pleasure coursed throughout your body in countless waves, one hitting harder than the other as jongseong noisily lapped and licked all of your juices, his arms pulling your thighs lower to his face.

You felt tears prickling at the corner of your eyes when he finally pushed his tongue in your gummy walls, thrusting in slowly to savour the feeling of your nectar covering the lower half of his face, your head was thrown back as your body shook in his hold when his nose nudged against your clit perfectly.

“Come on, love.” He quickly spoke under you before returning his tongue inside of you, low moans and whimpers of his name fell past your lips, each shuddered breath going straight to his aching cock that twitched beneath his clothing while his hips jerked and spasmed uncontrollably, desperate for any sort of friction yet jongseong paid no mind to his own need, completely thrown into a trance by your flavour and the heavenly sight of you atop of him.

“I’m close, baby” you breathed out, the knot in your lower stomach tightening with the gradual building of your release, “use me, angel.” He grunted, one of his arms now wrapped around your waist, his nails slightly digging into your skin while his other hand kept your twitching hips in place.

“Please use me, I need you to use me, cum all over my face.” He nearly whimpered, tongue messily slipping in and out of you before he pulled away to suckle on your aching clit, his words bewitching you entirely, your body leaned against the headboard when you felt your head spinning, mere seconds away from toppling into your climax the longer he continued eating and lapping you up so sloppily and loudly.

Jongseong was thrusting into the blanket at this point, his own release building up just by eating you out, the room felt ridiculously hot, you felt droplets of sweat aligning your hairline while jongseong could feel the droplets rolling down the back of his neck onto his pillowcase, his breaths heavy and hot as he refused to detach himself from you longer than a few seconds.

Your mind by now was completely whirling, jongseong’s continuous humming while you gushed all over his tongue was driving you to insanity, and you made the mistake of lowering your head to lock eyes with his needy ones.

A quiet gasp slipped out of you at the sight of him, sweet eyes already gazing at yours in love, his face glistening in a sheen layer of sweat, his black locks sticking onto his temples while tinier droplets rolled throughout his undercut, cheeks flushed a pretty rose colour while his eyebrows were furrowed in concentration.

Your hips began to involuntarily roll against him, the coil tightening further and further, you felt tears escape your eyes at the pleasure, suddenly jongseong pulled one of his hands away, his lips detaching from your core as his fingers inched towards your entrance, he carefully slipped two fingers in, both of you groaning in pleasure at the satisfying stretch.

You continued your movements, jongseong began to help you in riding his fingers, guiding your hips with his other hand while he stared at the sight above him, he noticed your every twitch, every shaky breath escaping your chest, every time your teeth grazed your lips to quieten your moans.

“Just like that, angel girl. Come on, give it to me.” He praised, eyes half lidded as he returned to suckling on your clit, adding a third finger in once your slick began to run down his palm and trail along his wrist, his thrusts quickened the whinier your moans turned, lips still wrapped around your clit while his tongue toyed with it.

“Fuck— I’m so fucking close!” You mewled with your back arching, nails digging into the wood beneath them once your legs began to shake, “cum for me, pretty girl.” He mumbled, his own body ablaze as he felt his own release mere seconds away.

And once jongseong pressed his fingertips directly onto one of your sweet spots all the while licking at your nub, you felt the dizzying sensation of pure ecstasy washing over you, broken moans tumbling out of your mouth while your eyes rolled to the back of your head, the sight of your climax washing over you to beautifully easily triggered jongseong’s own orgasm, and before he knew it he was already making a mess inside of his boxers at the sight of your moaning and shaking body whimpering out his name.

“Fuck yes baby, there you go. Cum for me,” his praises barely reached your ears as all you could hear was the familiar ringing after a mindblowing release, your eyes still closed while jongseong helped you in riding out your orgasm, slowly beginning to overstimulate you.

One of your hands reached down to hold onto his shoulder, in hopes of giving him the sign to stop yet jongseong was still lapping up all of your wetness with his eyes closed, humming in delight while licking all along your entrance, his fingers slowly came to a stop deep inside of you while his sucking dissolved into soft kisses against your cunt,

“Did so well for me,” he said with soft kiss on your clit, “my perfect angel girl.” kiss, “so so good for me,” tears were veiling your vision once again at his gentlest touches yet you didn’t have the heart to pull away, not when he felt so good.

“I love you so, so much.” And he finished off with a final kiss, carefully pulling out fingers that were covered with your slick, he quickly cleaned them up by pushing them into his mouth, eyes closing once again at your taste before he opened them again to find your own gazing at him tiredly, you were glowing above him.

His arm tried to tug you down, in hopes of you laying down next to him but you quickly stopped him, “jong, let me please you too.” You spoke quietly, throat feeling dry and scratchy before jongseong chuckled, “about that…” he smiled.

You focused on his face in the darkness to see the outline of a cheeky smile on his face, jongseong was quite thankful now for the lack of lighting in the room because his face felt like it was lit ablaze, “you don’t really have to do anything baby..” he spoke, voice becoming lower with every word, his words confused you, what?

Your eyes widened at the thought of him— no. You quickly turned around to the sight of a weirdly obvious and glistening wet patch on the middle of his pants, “jong.. did you really cum just from eating me out?” You asked, eyes still on the wet patch while jongseong rubbed his legs together in discomfort and embarrassment, “baby you don’t understand how amazing it is to eat you out..” he defended himself, voice questionably higher by a pitch as his blush deepened.

Not wanting to tease him further you turned to face him, pulling yourself away from him to lay besides your lover, quickly placing a soft kiss to his blushing cheek before chuckling, “okay baby, wanna join me in the shower?” You asked, voice already laced with exhaustion and fatigue, yet all those feelings dissipated when jongseong pushed his lips against yours, smiling into the kiss in response to your proposal,

“I’m gonna tease you about this later though.”

He stood outside of his car, parked infront of his building, the cold air sent slight shivers throughout his body, resulting in him tugging his blazer closer to himself, he could spot the multiple cars belonging to reporters on the other side of the street, eager to get any sort of photo of korea’s most popular couple, you and jongseong.

Countless other cars had parked next to his, the models that were signed under his company walking out one by one, some respectfully greeting him as they walked towards their respective cars while others shamelessly checked him out or winked at him, fully aware of his relationship.

Jongseong paid no mind to all the other women who were desperate to get his attention, he was too occupied and busy wondering about your outfit, the award seasons approaching also meant multiple runway events taking place— which also meant that your schedule was packed, jongseong was deprived of you terribly.

Specifically today, his hands itched to throw his keys to Nicholas and walk inside the building to see and hold you again as he wasn’t able to see you for the past few days, only able to feel the comfort of your body next to him when you were already sleeping by the time he had arrived.

Your morning fittings proved to be another disadvantage, as jongseong had been waking up these past few mornings to an empty bed, your absence greatly affecting his mornings when you weren’t there to hand him his coffee mug, his mornings without your sweet voice talking to him absolutely sucked.

The longer the days became without seeing you in his office with multiple declines to his ‘wanna visit me in my office?’ The heavier his days weighed on his heart, he turned away from the entrance of the building, in an internal battle with himself.

He physically couldn’t wait to see you again and relish in the familiar warmth of your skin against his— fuck it he’s going to see you right now, who would dare stop their own ceo from entering his own bu—

“Jongie!” And there it was, the same voice that his ear converted into sweet melodies that rung throughout his mind, jongseong couldn’t help the wide smile that spread along his face while his back was still facing you, heart fluttering in his chest from the mere sound of your voice.

He could hear your breath fanning the back of his neck as you had walked closer to him with heels clicking against the floor, he could hear your breath shaking from excitement, your hands reaching to hold his own in happiness of finally seeing him.

And when jongseong finally turned around he physically felt all the air getting knocked out of his lungs, suddenly the world began to rotate slower around him, all the other figures passing by both of you became blurred, your giggle at his smitten expression echoed in his ear, gosh you were so breathtaking.

The dress that he had spent months designing with the occasional help from jaeyun was now hugging your body beautifully, all the sleepless nights of erasing and redrawing all the sketches were all proved to be worth it now.

His smile deepened, widening enough to turn his eyes into crescents as he gazed at you with pure love and adoration, his hands interlocking with yours and he used it to his advantage by pulling you towards him further, his breath brushing against your neck and cheeks, “you look stunning.” He whispered only for your ears to hear.

Jongseong could feel his heart rate gradually picking up with the way your smile widened, eyes shining as you looked up at him, “thank you,” you whispered back, gaze dropping quickly to his own outfit, clad in black pants along with a white satin button up with his logo embroidered atop his chest followed by a dashing blazer, “you look handsome.”

Jongseong couldn’t really help the small giggle that escaped his throat, his fingers tightening around yours as you both broke into an adorable fit of chuckles, paying no mind to the people passing by both of you nor the cameras recording you both from meters away, and surely not to the multiple employees that were by now watching the interaction unfolding from the glass windows with their jaws wide open,

“Are you ready, my love?” Jongseong smiled, hand already softly tugging you towards him as he turned to face the car, “I’m always ready,”

The drive to the venue was relatively quiet, with you asking jongseong a few questions about the reporters and the awards in a hushed tone filling up the air followed by jongseong’s own answers and random jokes to ease the tension he could clearly notice in your shoulders, he knew you were nervous and he was too, was he going to make it obvious to you though? Of course not.

“You think they’ll have food prepared?” You finally whispered the question that’s been plaguing your mind for the past few hours as you hadn’t had the chance to really eat anything with your day being filled with random fittings and sitting down in front of Yizhuo for hours as she did your makeup.

“I hope they do.” Jongseong replied, a smile gracing his face before he turned around to your worried expression, “and if they don’t, you know I’ll make something for you.” He quickly added, shoulder nudging yours in hopes of seeing you smile, his grin widened when you finally did.

Once the car came to a halt and you both stepped outside of the vehicle, jongseong’s hand quickly interlocked with yours amidst all the flashes of the multiple cameras pointing towards you, the sounds of the clicks resonating in your ear as jongseong swiftly walked inside of the venue all the while his hand gently tucked yours towards him to keep you safe,

The yells and calls of both of your names along with questions about your lives and works being shouted here and there quickly quietened when you walked deeper inside the venue, your lover turning around once you reached a deeper spot with less people around to check on you, concerned eyes roaming your body to detect any sort of injury or problem, “you’re okay, angel?” He asked.

You quickly nodded to his words, feeling nothing but excitement running throughout your body as you took in the interior of the venue, packed with famous models and designers from all across the world, the names echoing around you in real life being ones that you’ve only heard on television or read about in the internet, everything around you felt surreal.

Jongseong smiled at the amusement twinkling in your eyes, taking notice your hands that were shaking with nerves and excitement, on instinct he took your hands into his and pressed a loving kiss on the back of each one, successfully returning your attention on him and making you blush as he smiled at you once more, “let’s go, baby”

Both of you walked deeper inside the venue, passing by the red carpet to myraid pairs of eyes following each and every one of your movements, numerous heads being turned in your direction once you and the young ceo became the center of attention, jongseong could practically feel the burning gaze of multiple designers, male models and reporters scorch through his suit.

He could easily pick out the difference between pure envy and jealousy from interest and attraction from the countless pairs of eyes that were glued onto him and you as he scanned the area, and he absolutely hated it.

His attentiveness and expertise in studying other people’s expressions and body languages had landed him in both blessed and cursed situations, for instance he was glad he was able to tell you were into him as much as he was from your first date with the way your attention was completely stuck on him, your fingers fidgety with your nervousness when they weren’t brushing through your hair followed by the adorable pink that would dust your cheeks as you looked down to chuckle at his stupid jokes.

The other instance being now, he could effortlessly nitpick the men who were gazing at your body with disgusting lust and need in their eyes from the men that had genuine curiosity and intrigue written all across their expressions as they gazed at you, your beauty captivating each and every one of their attention with ease.

He hated how these men had the audacity to gaze at you in ways only he should be able to, the nerve of them to think about you in only ways he should be able to, he hated the fact that you probably have the same effect on them as you do on him, plaguing their minds for the rest of the week with thoughts and wonders about how one day will be like with you.

But was the young ceo going to display his discomfort and show the clear jealousy tainting his expression to the whole world? Of course not. Who did these men even think they are in the first place? Why would Park Jongseong give them the satisfaction of seeing him with a sour expression on his face next to his lady who had managed to successfully enchant the entire venue with her beauty?

He would of course stand next to you tall and proud, hand wrapped around your waist protectively, fingertips brushing against the satin of your dress that he had designed and the whole world knew about that fact from his emblem next to your collarbone, a satisfied smile on his face that easily asserted his power and success, a supremacy all the other men around them could only have the ability to imagine about.

The image of the young ceo was guaranteed to be a trending topic in the country for the following few days, his resemblance to his father had always been a hotly discussed topic among the citizens of the city that had their eyes glued onto his every move, yet now with his first appearance into the public eye in a few months was a different kind of whiplash for all the attendees.

Park Jongseong walked with elegance, spoke with grace and radiated charm. His sole character and aura was a heavy statement of opulence and luxury, casting a very clear difference between him and all the other men in the entire world.

It was very obvious to the public eye that he wasn’t resembling the former ceo only appearance wise, but he had an exact replica of his father’s mannerisms. Born and raised into old money truly had done wonders in the upbringing of jongseong in the best way possible.

He was a ‘one-of-a-kind’ man, one in billions that blessed his family of powerful ceos, he truly was destined for success.

And success did he find, in the most loving and caring forms that walked into his life right when he most needed it, the sight of you next to him was pure eye candy for all the cameras in front of you, you and jongseong’s outfit complimented one another perfectly.

The contrast between the young ceo smiling charmingly at all the cameras as he attempted his best to turn and face all the reporters that were yelling his name and you, the embodiment of love and beauty standing besides him, glowing with your dress when you waved at your other friends standing a few feet away from you on the red carpet before smiling sweetly at all the paparazzis, was for sure going to be a trending topic for weeks.

“Don’t you think we should head inside?” You whispered to your lover, voice low in worry of one of the cameras that were recording you both to catch your irritated tone, the one you were trying to hide, jongseong clearly noticed it of course, his head nodding before he could even realise it, turning to interlock your hands once more to finally walk away from the blinding flashes.

Maybe Jongseong shouldn’t take much pride and confidence in his body language studying abilities, as he had completely failed to realise the multiple models that were eyeing him.

From the ones standing a few feet behind you, glaring daggers into you before their eyes twinkled once they landed on Jongseong again, to the ones behind the cameras, whispering with their hands against their mouths with their gazes stuck on your lover, who failed to notice all of them.

But of course you noticed, you felt the way you were being watched not only with lustful eyes but also envious eyes, the thought of multiple women wishing to be in your position, daydreaming about your lover irritated you to an extent, because at the end of the day, he was going to be the one to take your dress off while you left your loving marks on his back.

And one way or another, you will manage to make everyone else in this event realise it.

Jongseong’s thumb caressed the back of your hand gently, he could feel the nervousness radiating off from your body, hell he was nervous himself with his eyes glued on the host atop the stage, holding the envelope with one hand while the other kept the microphone close to his face, Soobin’s voice boomed throughout the speakers in the venue.

“And the winner..” he continued building the anticipation in the area, practically all attendees were on the edge of their seats with their breaths hitched, jongseong could feel his anxiety increasing when he noticed sunghoon’s leg shaking next to his seat, jaeyun’s nervous eyes rapidly moving from the large screen to the stage, your own nails digging into his skin softly whenever soobin spoke along with his mother’s eyes studying your nervous state while whispering reassuring words to you.

“I’m so sure you won, baby.” Jongseong finally found his voice again as he whispered softly into your ear, and similar to a spell you felt all of your worry dissipating at the mere sound of his comforting voice, your grip on his hand loosened while you leaned back into your seat again, a full wave of relaxation washing over you, you turned to look at his eyes already staring at you tenderly.

“I don’t mind, really.” You spoke with a hushed tone, a small smile gracing your lips when your gaze fell onto your interlocked hands with jongseong, “it’s just an award,” you shrugged your shoulders before returning your focus onto the stage, unaware of the grin that now appeared on jongseong’s face at your words.

“For ‘Model Of The Year’ is..” Soobin’s voice brought his attention back onto the screen yet again, the sight of Soobin’s hands hastily opening the envelope he was handed before pulling out a small paper, made jongseong gulp in anticipation, the roles were quickly reversed since now you held jongseong’s sweaty hand with both of yours, gently rubbing your thumb on his skin to calm his own nerves down.

And at soobin’s yell of your name throughout the venue, jongseong felt his whole world slowing down in rotation, you excitedly jumped from your seat with shock painting your face followed by jongseong’s mom also leaping to hug you tightly, her praises and congratulations falling onto your ringing ears as the crowd erupted with cheers and claps.

Sunghoon was too busy celebrating your win with jaeyun who was now hugging the assistant excitedly, eyes shining with a huge smile on his face at his model winning such a huge award in his agency, he felt so proud of you, body twitching in happiness as he stared at you walk towards the stairs of the stage now.

The whole time jongseong was in a state of shock, his eyes attempting their best to focus on your figure standing in front of the mic now, his racing heart skipping beats once his eyes focused on the huge award in your hand, sunghoon’s whispers of ‘i told you’ were left ignored as jongseong tried his best to decipher your speech— he could already tell your halfway through it yet time seemed nonexistent for him at this current moment.

When his ears finally began to pick up and understand what you were saying— “And I would love to thank my beloved husband, park jongseong—“ and just like that his ears began ringing again, his surroundings suddenly slowing down once more.

Because what?

Your beloved who?

The crowd that was only quiet for a few seconds roared with another round of applause and shouts at the announcement, your mind was clouded up and foggy with your own emotions you didn’t even realise your slip up even when your eyes landed on jongseong’s shocked face, his mouth agape with his pretty eyes widened with shock— was he tearing up?

The realisation dawned on you when you noticed sunghoon proudly slapping his friend’s back all the while jaeyun was now bursting with excitement, clapping his hands with multiple giggles falling from his lips followed by sweet congratulations to jongseong— who was slowly coming back to his senses and becoming aware of the camera next to his face, recording and displaying his reaction on the large screen.

His face and ears had flushed entirely red, big eyes twinkling in surprise and shock, lips parted in confusion as he had the urge to say anything. To talk, to scream, to yell at that second yet nothing was coming out besides a breathy chuckle.

Jongseong felt the familiar warmth rushing throughout his body, branching from deep within his chest to his limbs that buzzed with excitement, the familiar warmth that only you were able to generate in him, the warmth and fuzzy feeling of pure love.

He had the courage to look into the lens of the camera with his own tear filled eyes before nodding proudly, confirming your own unbelievable words, the shocking statement that fell from your lips unexpectedly to the entire world.

His heart thundered in his chest when sunghoon nudged him while laughing, jaeyun was now calming down jongseong’s mother who was too busy wiping her own tears of happiness at the sight of not only you on stage but also the sight of her son, jongseong gazing lovingly at you atop the stage, radiating the love and adoration he carried for you from the screen, and the final blow was when he decided to blow a kiss your way.

That was when your own resolve completely crumbled and you bowed one final time to the crowd and soobin before quickly getting off the stage, the urge to be close with your lover surpassing every other emotion you felt in that second, the need to hold him and feel him consuming you to the point of a satisfied sigh tumbling past your lips when you finally made it to your seat again,

With jongseong standing to hug you tightly, lips next to your ear he whispered “congratulations, wifey.”

Jongseong’s didn’t allow his body to stay as distant as an inch away from you, almost like he became glued to you at the hip when you began to make your way back from the event, hands laced together with his towering figure trailing behind you like a shadow.

He couldn’t bring himself to even think about lifting his eyes away from you or drifting a single second away from your body, the only time being when he had to enter his car after you and it was short lived since not even a moment later he was pressed against you.

Still in his state of a giggling and blushing mess bedsides you, he toyed with your fingers while you were on the phone with Yizhuo, accepting all of her sweet congratulations and excited squeals over the line before ending it with a loving kiss to the phone, your lover was now distracted with softly brushing his fingertips against your skin, caressing each vein around your wrist with hazy eyes,

“Jongseong..?” You whispered quietly, eyes quickly checking on Nicholas who glued his attention on the road ahead of him, before returning back to a soft jongseong, he hummed at your call of his name, gaze still stuck on your hand— specifically a certain finger on your left hand, with a ghost of a smile on his face.

“You’re really quiet..” you stared at his side profile, the slope of his nose, his softened eyes filled with passion along with his pretty pink lips pouting in concentration, he was in a deep thought. He simply hummed as a response once again, and before you knew it the vehicle finally came to a stop.

Walking inside the house never felt so soothing for both you and jongseong after a tiring day, once the door behind you got closed you felt his hand rush from interlocking with yours to wrap around your elbow, briefly stopping you and turning a confused you around to face him.

“Did you really mean it..?” He spoke with a hushed tone, eyes blazing with hunger and need for you, his other hand came upwards to caress your cheek lovingly as he awaited your answer, “mean what?” You questioned.

He breathed in deep before speaking once again “do you see a future with me?” His eyebrows slightly raised this time, a slight blush decorating his ears that slowly trailed downwards to his neck, the sight of your gaze softening and transforming from confusion to pure love made him almost melt in front of you.

“Of course I do,” you leaned against him, hands now finding their place on top of his chest, you felt his heart beat drumming beneath your fingertips rapidly while his hands dropped to wrap around your waist, “I’m glad you do, because I can’t wait to marry you.” He spoke before kissing your forehead, resting his against yours as he closed his eyes while yours widened.

“We don’t have to rush..” you quickly said, making him open his eyes once again, you easily drowned in his eyes that were dripping with honey. “We have to, the whole world thinks that we’re married now.” He chuckled, “I don’t mind making that true..” he continued, arms wrapping tighter around you while you stared at him with genuine amusement, “..like right now.” He nuzzled his nose against yours.

“Jong..” you started, heart racing from not only his words but his closeness as well, you felt your body heating up, a familiar warmth taking place between your legs the tighter and closer he held you to him, he walked slowly while he pushed you backwards till your back pressed against the door and his lips found home on your neck.

He breathed in your scent before trailing kisses along the expanse of your skin, your breaths deepened once the room suddenly felt warmer, his blazer around your shoulder felt like it was burning you, your eyes unintentionally closed the wetter his kisses got, the longer he trailed his tongue over his marks and the harsher his sucks got on your skin.

He pressed his leg between yours, knee indenting your dress while it pleasantly pressing against your core allowing him to feel the wetness pooling in your underwear, your hands by now had reached out to wrap around his shoulders, fingertips brushing against his undercut making him groan.

you felt his hardened member press against your thigh achingly while jongseong paid no mind to his own needs, too distracted by your supple skin between his teeth. Yet you couldn’t take it any longer, you needed him inside of you desperately.

“Jongseong..” you whispered once again directly into his ear, tone laced with crave and yearn towards him, he felt his heart skip a beat at your weak sound, quickly detaching himself from you, “I’ve got you.” He mumbled before picking you up with ease,

His feet quickly arrived at the doorway of your shared room, he swiftly stood besides the bed before carefully lowering you onto his bed sheets, wasting no time in climbing atop of you to finally connect your lips for the first time tonight.

His hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing the marked skin weakly, making a soft gasp flutter past your lips, he trailed his tongue against yours, brushing past your swollen lips while he pressed his body completely against yours.

His other hand quickly came up to rid him of his tie, popping a few buttons open on the way which allowed you to get a look at his gorgeously tanned chest, his hands then worked quickly to open the zipper on the side of your dress before leaving you on the bed clad in lingerie, one that he recognised you and yizhuo designed to hopefully get released under a future lingerie design, and you were sure it was with the way jongseong’s pupils immediately formed small hearts.

“You look stunning..” he breathed out, chest heaving in breaths while he began to kiss your chest, you lowly moaned his name once he began to suck between your breasts, hands fondling with them with the annoying restriction of your bra, his kisses turning more hungry and greedy the lower he reached, he placed on final wet kiss on your hip bone before his hands wrapped around your inner thighs, separating your legs as his placed them on top of his shoulders, lowering himself to the wet patch on your covered panties.

His placed one kiss against your clothed clit resulting in your legs twitching besides his head, he chuckled lowly before kissing you once again, you whimpered his name out, hips needily and uncontrollably rolling as your body was lit on fire at this point, jongseong pushed one finger in through your clothed entrance, the sight of your glistening wetness trickling out more from the sides while he could feel your nectar seeping through the flimsy fabric bewitched him entirely, he gulped when he felt countless waves of pure ache travel his body from his hips.

“Jongseong please..” you mewled, the back of your hand resting against your forehead once you began to feel lightheaded the longer he pushed his finger along with your fabric inside of you followed by his long kisses against your clit, “please what, angel girl? Tell me what you want.” He quickly replied before turning his head to kiss along your inner thighs, his swollen lips pressing against your skin after nibbling on it softly.

“Please let me ride you.” You whimpered out, voice barely audible but jongseong understood your words with ease hence why he suddenly stopped all his movements and god was he fighting off the urge to combust in his pants right now.

Without responding he quickly got up, hands separating from your heat while his face came upwards to yours, he took in the sight of your half lidded eyes, shining with desire, need and devotion when you finally saw him again, the sight of your blushing face with soft breathes panting from between your plump lips, you looked alluring.

Jongseong had seen you on countless magazine covers, your photos on multiple runway shows taken by professional photographers, numerous photoshoot appearances with half of them ending up on billboards all of which you looked absolutely gorgeous in.

Yet none of these photos could amount the beauty that he saw whenever you were under him, the beauty that he knew he caused. With your flushed face gazing at him so prettily, begging him and needing him to do anything. Not one single photographer can catch the expression of pure love and lust that he got to saw beneath him every single night, you looked mesmerising.

Easily putting him under a spell with only one goal in his mind, to please and love you till sunrise only to do it again the whole day and never break this endless cycle of devoting himself to you entirely.

“Of course, angel.” He finally breathed out a response, delicately moving his and your body to get you in the correct position after quickly ridding himself of his pants along with his boxers, with his back against the headboard and you sitting on his lap, he held your waist as he guided your clothed cunt against his aching length that stood proudly against his lower stomach appearing painfully hard, leaking with precum from his reddened tip.

He quietly gasped out your name, his hips twitching with your slightest movements, your hands gripped on his shoulders while his pressed your body closed to his while he moved you as he pleased, his eyes closing as he threw his head back, gifting you the heavenly sight of jongseong with his face blushed, lips glistening with his own spit due to his constant messy kisses, small sweat droplets decorating his hairline before trailing down his honey skin, his Adam’s apple moving when he gulped, you couldn’t really help yourself from leaning forward to press a gentle kiss against it, and you for sure didn’t regret it when it drew out a whimper from your lover.

Impatiently, your hand reached lower to push your sopping panties to the side before aligning his tip against your entrance, your wetness leaking down his length followed by his own precum, the sight arousing you enough to finally sink down on him after countless hours while both of your moans of pure pleasure resonated throughout the dimly lit room.

“Fuck..” he breathed out, his abs flexing from beneath you as he fought his hardest to push his release back since he’s been in an internal battle ever since you slipped up on that blessed stage, his hands held onto your hips once you began to move atop of him, guiding your hips to roll in delicious circles that made you whimper his name against his lips while he sloppily kissed you.

He couldn’t keep his lips off of yours for too long, separating them whenever the urge to moan out your name became to much before returning to suckle on your lower lip, he savoured your flavour and you taking over his senses entirely by closing his eyes and allowing himself to indulge in you entirely while your gummy walls sucked him hungrily.

Your nails began to slightly dig into his skin the harsher his hardened tip pressed against your sweet spots perfectly, your eyes rolling back almost every time you lowered yourself on his cock after lifting your hips to only have his tip inside of you, jongseong began to slowly move his own hips upwards to meet your thrusts, he angled them perfectly to have his tip press against your cervix expertly.

He had memorised every part of your body, every movement that had your legs shaking and eyes rolling and he used every night he spent with you to his advantage, almost vowing to himself to always have you clouded with bliss and pleasure whenever he had the chance.

His length felt like it was splitting you open, moulding your walls to his size and his only with the way his thrusts slowed to the point where he was practically pushing himself inch by inch, his arms trailing upwards to circle around your waist, pressing your upper half against his while he fucked you passionately.

“Jongseong..” you moaned his name eagerly, your own hands had dropped to grip onto his forearms, nails indenting the fabric of his button up shirt while you tried your hardest to stabilise yourself, he quickly shushed you, “I know baby, I know. I’ve got you.” He pressed a quick kiss to your parted lips before reaching for the drawer next to your bed, hand moving hastily to grab the device before revealing the vibrator to you, “jong—“ he cut you off, his other hand holding your chin to tear your gaze away from the device to look at his own reassuring one, “I’ve got you.” He whispered one final time against your lips.

He turned the device on, to a medium setting before lowering his hand and pressing it against your clit, you gasped quietly at the intense vibrations of pure pleasure running along your body, your chest pressed harsher against his, jongseong could feel his mind spinning the longer he felt your breasts pressed against him while your hips involuntarily rolled due to the vibrations, he felt a shudder run down his back when he took notice of the goosebumps on your skin.

“There you go, doll.” He praised you, his eyes glued onto every expression of ecstasy that your face twisted into with the continuous building of your release, the way your eyebrows were furrowed with your pretty eyes tearing up due to the intensity of the pleasure he was providing you was driving him crazy.

You felt the way your abdomen tightened in familiar pleasure, the tightening of the coil indicating the approach of your climax that almost made your mind melt away, jongseong picked up the pace of his thrusts, your wetness mixed along with his own now messily trailing between your inner thighs to coat his own, the sound of wet skin slapping followed by your moans echoed off the walls the longer you needily bounced on him.

“I’m so close.. so so close,” you babbled throughout whimpers of his name, jongseong felt his own release that he desperately fought off right around the corner, he leaned forward to peck along your chest, lips brushing against your collarbone while he moaned against your skin, “i’m close too, baby.” He spoke between kisses, his hand pressed the vibrator harshly against your throbbing clit making you squeal his name, mere seconds away from reaching your orgasm.

“Come on, doll.” He urged on, his voice whiny in need of you to cum all over him and to allow him to relish in the sight of you in cloud nine, the sight he knew multiple men were currently wishing for, the sight that was reserved for his eyes only.

Jongseong felt the familiar jealousy course through his veins when he remembered the nasty looks of those men, his envy reflecting in the way his hand squeezed your hip before he lowered you down forcefully, unexpectedly and impossibly deepening his thrusts. Your moans turning into broken sobs while tears rushed freely down your cheeks when he picked up his own pace and began to piston his cock in and out of you.

“Fuck! Jong— I’m cumming” your voice turned into mere whispers the second you felt the familiar euphoria and fervor washing down on you, hitting your body with explosive waves, each one drawing out a long moan of your lover’s name from between your lips.

Jongseong was never a religious man.

But gosh the sight of your back arching beautifully in front of him, your head throwing back revealing your heaving chest clad in a flimsy lingerie with broken moans of his name along with a glistening sheen layer of sweat casting on your body enticingly, made you look absolutely divine in his eyes.

The urge to thank the deities above for allowing your paths to cross at that current moment was difficult to ignore, you didn’t notice the quiet gasp leaving his mouth at the sight of you, unaware of the way the mere view of you bathing in complete pleasure and delight unlocked something carnal, something animalistic in him that pushed him in a frenzy of thrill and bliss.

He guided you throughout your orgasm for a few seconds before moving both of your bodies in a split second, he discarded the vibrator carelessly as he suddenly had you beneath him, you gasped in surprise at the unexpected change in position with his hands now reaching to place your legs atop his shoulders while he pushed his cock back into your swollen folds.

“Jongseong please.. I can’t—“ you felt tears prickle in the corner of your eyes when he began to thrust again, he lowered himself to kiss along your tears, his hips rolling smoothly in after he pulled a mere inch out, not having the ability to possibly move out further from your heat that sucked and milked his cock in ways that had his body shaking.

“Yes angel, you can.” He cut you off, lips kissing along your wet cheeks, “you can give me another one can’t you?” He questioned, his hips now picking up pace ardently, overstimulating you while you could only writhe in his hold, the feeling of his tip now fully pressing against your cervix made your eyes roll to the back of your head, your body now twitching beneath him fully as you felt another orgasm building up.

“I know you can baby, you’re so perfect for me..” he babbled on, using every second that he doesn’t have his lips pressed onto your skin to whisper praises to you, “you were made for me, angel.” He kissed along your jawline while you sobbed his name, “my precious princess, does that feel good to you?” He lifted his face to take in the sight of your pretty face completely fucked out.

You nodded wordlessly to his words, he had successfully pushed you into a subspace filled with nothing but delight, your ears were ringing with only mumbles of his words reaching your brain, at this specific point you felt mind blowing waves of pleasure running throughout your body, confusing you on whether or not you were cumming again but you couldn’t bring yourself to care or focus.

“Did I fuck you dumb, doll? It’s okay you know I’ll take care of you, angel. I’ve got you, hm?” He continued, his legs now convulsing while he felt himself teetering on the edge of his orgasm, he could taste the metallic taste of his blood coating his mouth due to how harshly he had been biting his lips.

He felt you cumming around him once again, your nails gripping around his arms with your eyes closed shut while you whimpered beneath him, not able to process anything besides the borderline painful pleasure he’s been causing, his eyes softened at the rush of fresh tears from your ears when you tightened around him once again, “jongie..” you finally were able to weakly whisper his name, with both of your bodies twitching in overstimulating ecstasy.

your voice needily calling for him was enough to finally have him toppling over the edge, he choked out your name once he felt his mind clouding with blinding euphoria, hot white rushing through his veins as he pressed his hips sharply against yours, his tip pressing against your sweetest spots while he filled you up with his thick ropes of cum, painting your insides pleasingly white.

countless whispers of fuck fuck fuck fell past his lips followed by loud moans of your name as he plunged inside of your wetness to ride out his climax, unintentionally bringing you to another orgasm that made your walls convulse around him painfully, your peaks of pleasure seemed endless once jongseong felt his own tears of overstimulation lining his waterline, his wobbling lips pressing against your shiny ones, your body twitched beneath him once he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist after lowering your legs from his shoulders,

He suckled on your lower lip as his thrusts finally came to a stop with his cock deep inside of you, he felt his body burning with the intensity of the aftershocks, he quietly whispered your name expecting you to open your eyes yet you could only bring yourself to hum, he began to suck on your the tip of your tongue, hands caressing your sides while his length softened in between your warm walls,

“Angel.. my sweet girl.” He whispered, his dazed eyes now awaiting yours to open up finally, “come on..” he softly tapped his index finger along your cheek, finding the way you suddenly wrapped your arms around his shoulders to hold him closer endearing, “come on baby, come back to me..” he urged on, and once his longing tone finally reached your ears, you attempted your best to open your eyes.

“There you go baby..” he chuckled at the sight of your unfocused eyes, his fingers tenderly caressed your wet cheeks, patiently waiting for you to fully return your focus back onto him again, “did so well for me, pretty girl.” He praised before trailing kisses along your jawline, “my sweet angel.” He spoke with a final kiss to your parted lips, a soft smile appearing on his face when he finally noticed your hazy eyes focusing on him,

“You did so good for me, baby.” He said in a hushed tone, quietly speaking as to not overwhelm you in any way, the only goal in his mind was to get you both cleaned up before cuddling you till the afternoon tomorrow, “I love you so much,” he whispered, his heart swelling when you gently kissed him.

And that night became one of his favourites with you when he finally tucked you in his bed, your body clean atop changed bedsheets with him besides you, completely unaware that jongseong’s previous words were actually true, and the proof of that was the small velvet box inside of his blazer that he had messily discarded when he was undressing you.

៹ — A,NOTE. pt2. as mentioned above this was not proofread or edited so im kind of terrified to post this but I just finished it and i desperately want this work out of my drafts because it’s been here since the end of jan 😭

I would also like to point out the fact that I used punctuation this time ☝️ or atleast well TRIED to use it to my best ability, and that this will also have a part two (that’s not going to be released anytime soon because this one drained me) and it will focus on the more possessive and somewhat toxic? side of ceo jay bcs im obsessed with him 🙏🏼

some scenes were also written very quickly with my mind completely empty to it makes me feel kinda :/ like especially the award scene it was kinda rushed but I was kind of working on a time crunch (idk why but I wanted this out as soon as possible) so that’s why some scenes might feel empty or not as well and in depth written as the other ones which is on me + the fact that I don’t really know much about the modelling agency so I didn’t go into detail about writing it in case it’ll be wrong which is also why some scenes will be feeling empty. but anywho !! i hope u some what enjoyed my longest fic to date :D !! feedback & reblogs are greatly appreciated ! <3

(p.s big thanks to Victoria Monét’s collaboration song with kehlani ‘touch me’ for giving me this idea and for making that song and if u read the lyrics they somewHAT inspired this whole fic especially kehlani’s verse and if some other parts don’t make sense then don’t worry because they will in part two 😁💯)

#enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen scenarios #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #enhypen jay smut #enha jay #enha smut #enha x reader #park jongseong x reader #park jay smut #park jongseong fic #park jongseong smut #park jongseong #jay smut #jay park smut #jay x reader #jay hard hours #enhypen jay #jongseong x reader #✦ ۰ — tmfm | pjs.

[sturnsdoll]

𝘚𝘛𝘈𝘠𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘖𝘝𝘌𝘙 -`♡´- - c.s & t.y x reader

inspired by THIS

pairing: chris x tara x reader.

summary: two of your bestfriends stay over after a party. your friend tara's flirting quickly escalates the night into something much less innocent than a little sleepover.

warnings: smut, threesome, face sitting, dom!chris, switch!tara, sub!reader, dirty talk, p in v, oral (f & m recieving), praise, overstimulation, fingering, no protection (it's fiction. don't be dumb.), probably forgot some sorry!

authors note: omg y'all been on my ass to finish writing thiss <3 i did write and edit this while sleepy so (i really hope not) BUT if there's mistakes or lack of detail i'm really sorry!

"pink" = reader speaking "purple" = tara speaking "orange" = chris speaking

the time on your phone read 3:04am.

with a sigh you searched your surroundings impatiently. you'd been stood outside on the lawn of this stupid giant house for 4 minutes too long. the dampness on you from light raindroplets coming down just made the experience all the more unpleasent.

the mansion behind you was a mututal friends. inside, music blared so loud that it was seeping out through the windows. despite the absaloutely absurd hour of the night it was still bustling with people inside. sometimes in LA it felt like the parties just never died out. to be fair though, the number had signifincantly decreased from the start of the night when there must have been at least 100 people on the property.

"hey, sorry! i got caught up in yappin while trying to say goodbye to people" tara's familiar voice instantly made your tense shoulders drop. you turned to face her with a smile "it's alright. seen chris around yet?" your eyes scanned behind her to see if he was coming even though you didn't expect him to be. and he wasn't. "maybe we should text him?" tara suggested as she also looked behind her, as if it would make him appear faster. you pulled out your phone to send him a message.

3:07. they were both told to meet out here at 3:00. 7 minutes still wasn't terribly late.

tara's voice took you from your screen "we've been out here freezing, loser" you stop typing your text message to look up at whoever she was talking too. you were met with the sight of chris holding his jacket over his head to block from the rain falling down on him. "my bad, i got lost in the house.." he admitted as he got right up to the two of you and held his jacket out a little further to invite you both beneath it's shelter. "but i already called the uber so it should be here soon." he said re-assuringly. you both stepped beneath the coverage of his jacket. it didn't completely block the rain but it was something.

tara was staying over tonight because the two of you almost always stay at one anothers after parties. chris however, was coming along because neither matt or nick wanted to come to the party so you had taken him here, as well as offered to take him home the next day. he could have just ubered home tonight but, you and tara insisted that he come over to hang out after. what was he gonna do? say no to a fun innocent little sleepover with his friends??

the three of you walked in unison in order to keep your place under the shelter of chris' jacket. the whole way off the property the music faded and tara's heels clicking mixed with the rain's intensity picking up became all that was heard.

the close proximity of the three of you should have been uncomfortable but you had absaloutely no issue being this close to tara and chris- probably because they were both very outgoing and touchy people so they were comfortable as well, giggling the whole way down the lawn about who knows what. the smell of rain and chris' dior cologne filled your senses up the whole walk until finally, you all made it to the sidewalk and the uber was right there across the street.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

the ride home, you had all sat in the back together. you sat in the middle, head on chris's shoulder and one leg swung over tara's lap as you and tara yapped away almost the entire time. this wasn't weird because tara, you and chris were all naturally touchy people. and the alcohol hadn't completely left yours or taras systems quite yet.

opening your front door now, you instantly removed the heels that had been abusing your feet for hours. "i'm gonna get comfy clothes, you two can make yourselves comfortable" you told your friends as you locked your door securely. "could i borrow a shirt or something?" tara questioned with a sweet pleading smile as she slid off her heels and coat. "of course! come on" you enthused, leading her toward your laundry room since you hadn't had time to put any of your clothes away earlier before the party.

chris watched as you lead tara away. he had already made himself at home on your couch. he had been here before so it didn't take him long to figure out the tv remote either.

tara eventually picked out a t-shirt of yours to wear. you had chosen a matching tank and shorts pj set. as you were sliding your shorts on under your dress, you caught sight of tara sliding her dress down her shoulders. slowly her tits peaked over her dress, little by little till they were completely exposed.

you were in awe of how perfect they sat. how pretty. you were so mesmerized that you didn't even realize she had completely removed her dress and caught your hungry gaze. a typical tara giggle escaped her, snapping you out of your haze.

your eyes shot up to hers and you look petrified. "i'm so sorr-" "no no, it's okay" you could tell by the smile on her face that she was genuine. she slid your shirt over her head, covering her body back up again. "you want help unzipping your dress?" she asked. you were still so stuck on what had just happened that the question caught you off gaurd. why not though? god knows it'd be a nightmare to unzip it yourself. so, you nodded with an embarassed "sure".

tara made her way behind you, she stepped just a little closer than necessary and her painted fingernails found your zipper to slide it down. you could feel her breath on your neck, making your spine shiver. she slowly slid the straps of your dress down your shoulders, letting your dress fall down near your stomach.

she came right behind you, head on your shoulder. she looked down at your chest VERY obviously observing you with her gaze. "gorgeous" she complimented, her mischevious smile contradicting her sweet and casual tone. she gave a quick kiss to your shoulder before abruptly leaving the room to go find chris like it was nothing.

you stood completely dumbfounded. you and tara were extremely close but that was weird, right? after a couple minutes of collecting your thoughts, you chalked it up to her flirty personality just being fed a little too much liquid courage tonight.

after getting your clothes on you made your way to the living room where chris and tara were talking away. they were sitting surprisingly close but, spacial awarness wasn't always tara's specialty. chris didn't seem to mind.

"heyy me and chris are deciding what we want to eat, what do you want?" she questioned excitedly with uber eats already open on her phone.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

you all had made your decisions on food as well as a movie and you instructed that everyone watched it in your room to be more comfy so here the three of you were now..

chris laid with his back against your headboard while you and tara sat next to him on either side. chris and tara were talking over the movie that was nearly over now. waterbottles and empty fast food containers filled the space on your side table. you and tara had completely sobered up about an hour ago after having had some food.

"right? like wear what you want i guess but like WOW i just.." you had no clue what chris was talking about and you didn't care, as your eyes fixated on the tv screen you drowned out your two friends voices. reaching into your bedside tables drawer, you removed a vanilla chapstick sorry spacecamp to fix the dryness that earliers alcohol had cursed you with.

the scent of it was super strong. chris had subconciously switched his attention from what he was saying to your lips as the scent you were applying filled his nose and senses. he watched as you drug it across your perfect, round and now smooth, lips. he realized he was staring and quickly looked away. now that his attention had been drawn to you, he realized that you hadn't really talked to him or tara much for the past hour.

"what is that? cake or some shit?" he said, more so as a reason to include you in conversation than out of actual curiousity. you went to put the cap back on the vanilla lipbalm "can i try?" tara asked before you could even answer chris. you went to hand her the tube but she stopped you by grabbing your wrist gently "why waste it when we could share?" she asked. you were confused for a second until a playful glint in her eyes told you what she meant.

so earlier she was flirting? you thought to yourself. your expression mirrored hers with a smirk as you casually responded "of course you can try it". she begins to move forward so you do too. the both of you are leaning over chris when your lips connect in a gentle peck. chris has no idea how to react. his lips are parted, eyes glossy with a growing desire as he watches his two friends infront of him.

your lips hover one anothers for a moment but nobodies pulling away so you connect mouths again. this time there's a passion, lust, to the kiss. your the first to add tongue and tara's more than welcoming about it, her tongue fighting back against yours for dominance. you lean into the kiss more and with that same surge of confidence, you make a split second decision to "accidentally" steady yourself by pressing your hand ontop of the blanket.. right over where chris' dick is located.

an unexpectful grunt slips his lips. you pull back from tara just a little to gage chris's reaction. he doesn't seem to mind but for your own good-concious you need to make sure. "this okay?" you ask as your palm gently starts rubbing onto the tent in the blanket. he nods confirmingly, a quiet "yeah" before his lips eagerly meet yours. tara backs up just slightly so she can adjust herself to place a kiss below chris's jaw. his hand rests onto her knee and he rubs his thumb lightly as a show of approval.

with that, she opens her mouth and begins lightly nipping at his neck. tara takes his hand that's on her knee and grabs it to guide it toward you, silently telling him to give you the attention instead right now. chris smirks into the kiss but you don't know why until his hand goes to toy the waist band of your shorts, making you flinch a little at the cold touch of his fingertips.

tara's lips leave chris's neck. she shuffling around the bed so you try to pull away to see what she's doing. chris's hand comes to the back of your head, forcing you back onto his lips. that doesn't last long though because next thing you know, tara's grabbing your shoulders to pull you to lay down on your back, head toward the end of the bed. your legs naturally go on either side of chris. he's still seated with his back against the headboard.

"you wanna make me feel good babe?" the tone of tara's voice makes your stomach flutter. you respond by nodding eagerly. tara giggles mischeviously in response as she stands to remove her black lace panties. chris eyes catch onto her. both of you watch as she bends over to slide them off, momentarily revealing her glistening pussy.

his attentions pulls away when you subconciously buck your hips up for attention. chris' long fingers slide into the waistband of your shorts to slide them off your legs. you allow him, lifting your hips to help. now you lift your head to watch what chris is up to. you feel tara's weight consume the bed next to your head but keep your eyes trained on the man between your legs. chris tosses your shorts aside before his hands find your thighs. painstakingly slow, his palms run up and down them, always close but never quite touching your aching cunt.

you begin to get impatient "chris. pl-" you're cut off by tara lightly grabbing your jaw and forcing your head back down against the bed. "shh. let him take his time honey" as she speaks she raises herself over your face, thighs now on either sides of your head. you open your mouth to argue but instead you're silenced by tara's folds pressing onto your lips.

well, you for sure weren't gonna argue with that. you forget about chris for now, wanting tara's taste in your mouth. your tongue darts out to experimentaly flick at her clit once before you completely dive in to suck on her needy bud.

tara whines from the lack of build up. she looks down at you admirably as your tongue works her "so good honey." she praises you. it hasn't even been a minute and your pussy drunk, you wanna make her keep telling you how good your doing, wanna pull more pretty noises. you're so completely consumed with her that you hadn't even noticed chris pulled your panties to the side until his fingers unexpectedly ran through your folds.

"so fucking soaked." chris states, admiring your soaked cunt. "yeah? you like being buried in me that much?" tara teases, staring down at you. to answer her, your tongue slips into her hole, nose stimulating her clit now. "orr she just wants to be touched, hm?" chris says with slight competitivness, his pointer finger just barely grazes over your clit. you buck your hips toward him for more but he uses his free arm to hold your waist to the bed.

tara scoffs, rolling her eyes even though neither of you can see it. "yeah sure" she mutters quietly in response to chris. he catches it though, "i'd watch your tone" chris warns her. before tara can respond, he thrusts his middle and ring fingers into you, elicting a moan. the vibrations of your moan travel straight into taras cunt, making her whine loudly.

chris watches with satisfaction at having affected both of you at the same time. although his cock is throbbing, he's more than happy to watch the sight infront of him and continue to toy and play with you. or both of you. his fingers are as deep as they go when he curls them upwards. you cry out, grabbing tara's hand with one of yours and her thigh with your other.

your tongue is still fucking her closer and closer to the edge. everytime chris forces out all your pretty little noises, they go straight into tara's cunt again and again.

her thighs begin suffocating the sides of your head. you don't mind at all. she rocks her cunt right into your face, whines spilling out of her. "i'm close" she voices, her thighs beginning to shake. "not yet, get off of her" chris demands. tara turns her head as far as it goes to look back at chris. "excuse me?" she questions him . chris's fingers pull out of you. you try to complain but it's muffled. they continue the conversation without you. "you're not cumming yet." he tells her. tara looks... offended? baffeled? she opens her mouth to complain but chris rolls his eyes and raises to his knee's so he can grab taras hips, lifting her off you.

you immedietly sit up, confused. tara's juices coat your chin and chris motions for you to come to him. "what. the. fuck?" you finally complain, looking between the two of them. "what she said" tara chimes in. chris turns tara to face him and lays back. he looks at tara then nods toward his lap. the sour look leaves her face and she smirks knowingly as she straddles his hips, already working at his belt.

chris's attention switches to you. "you wanna feel good again? hm?" he asks you with a slightly cocky smile. you nod. "cm'ere" he lures you over to sit on his face. while tara unbuttons and removes chris' pants.. you nervously place your thighs on either side of your friends face.

his middle and ring fingers return back to your aching hole to tease you again. he can sense your nervousness to lower yourself onto his mouth. "cm'on let me taste you" chris says, telling not asking as he looks up at you. you're looking anywhere but him. he groans frustratedly and decides to take matters into his own hands. he uses his free arm to wrap it around your thigh and pull you right down to his tongue. he wastes no time flicking the tip of his tongue up and down your clit rapidly. as if that wasn't enough, his fingers fill you right back up. you almost jump at the unsuspected and sudden pleasure. you push your cunt further onto his mouth for more. you look down to see his blue lustful gaze staring right back up at you while he smirks into your sopping cunt. you clench around his fingers just at the sight.

meanwhile, tara's teasingly pulling his boxers toward his thighs.

tara wants nothing more than to ride him like he had implied however, tara figured someone might as well return the favour that he's giving to you right now. she leans down and her hand wraps around his base at the same time her lips enclose his tip.

a whiny moan slips chris lips that makes tara amusedly giggle around his cock, causing him to let another noise slip. both of these go right to your clit. you grip chris' hair for support and in return he curls his fingers right up into your g-spot.

you throw your head back and begin attempting to rock your hips into chris' face. the arm that's around your thigh holds you still though and he begins curling his fingers the same way over and over, again and again. you whine and moan as your body tries again and again to rock against his grip on you. chris lips wrap around your clit now, nipping and sucking. your stomach twists with pleasure, you know what's coming if he keeps this up.

tara's mouth slides down his length, taking him in almost completetely. chris's teeth bite down on your clit in reaction. it's not hard enough to truly hurt but enough to shock you and almost tip you right over the edge.

chris releases your clit with a pop. his voice is shakier than he anticipated. "y-you wanna cum baby?" your friend asks as he looks up at you, your juices on his face with pussy drunk eyes. "mm- mhm" is all you manage. he gently slaps your thigh, making you whine. "lemme hear you say it" his fingers continue to curl into you.

"i w-wanna cum chris mm please" you beg him desperately as you clench around his fingers. there's a few seconds of silence that makes tears fill the corner of your eyes. "good girl. g-go ahead" he struggled to speak as the pleasure tara's tongue gave him was almost too much.

the 'good girl' was more than enough for you. you practically fold over, you would have if your headboard wasn't there to grab onto. your legs shake and your walls squeeze his fingers, your orgasm is already coming over you but then on top of it chris adds his mouth back to the mix, latching it back to your clit. "chris!" his name comes out high pitched. stars cloud your vision as you coat his fingers completely.

tara's mouth release's chris' cock. the bed shifts for a couple seconds and before he can process it, the warm walls of her cunt envelope him, sinking all the way to his pubic bone. chris moans into you again but this time it feels like too much. you tried to lift your hips off of him but he only pulls your pretty pussy right back to him. his fingers leave you but his tongue flattens against your hole, licking a long stripe from there till your clit.

"fuck chris!""fuck!" you and tara both whine out. your pleasure's from the overstimulation, hers from the way his cock hits all the right spots when she rocks on it. his dick twitching inside of her at the sound of both your pretty cries. when tara begins a steady and fast pace, chris couldn't help but subconciously try and fuck up into her. she leans back, her hands on his thighs to steady herself as her rythym became faster. both chris and tara let out noises. hers whiny and desperate, his lower and less often.

you couldn't hear either of them over the ringing in your ears from every muscle in your body shaking. because of your last orgasm, you were still very sensitive. this time all it took was chris's mouth sucking on your clit for and you were almost there again.

tara was finding friction for her clit from rocking it into chris' pelvis everytime her hips moved. her mouth was slack and she was hardly even moaning anymore. heavy breaths coming as her chest heaved. "fuck- i'm so close" tara mutters mostly to herself. you took a hand off the headboard to reach behind you, your hand reaching out behind you and she takes the hint, grabbing it. you both squeezed one anothers hands for support.

you guys weren't the only one's close. chris's dick was twitching inside your bestfriend and his hips start to stutter.

tara pushes her hips down harder onto her friend and the feeling was enough for the coil in her stomach to release. she cried out breathlessly and at the same time, your thighs squeeze chris's head as you dig your nails into tara's hand. your mind goes completely blank.

you remove yourself from chris's face, completely overstimulated. tara leaves his cock at the same time, red and leaking precum. chris looked at tara confused.. until she looks at you, then back to him.

you didn't notice this, you were sat next to chris, chest heaving while you catch your breath. "think you can take one more, babe?" tara speaks up but her voice is strained and raspy from all the gorgeous noises she had emitted just moments ago.

you looked at chris who was already looking at you. he looked pretty, sweat causing a few of his brown strands to cling to his forehead. despite looking a little fucked out, he still had an eagerness to him probably because he hadn't cum yet.

he got up into a seated position and reached out, hand going into your hair to pull you into him. his lips collided with yours feverishly whilst tara's fingertips teasingly graze his tip. he instantly swatted her hand away. she let him because they both knew he had other plans.

chris turned you around, positioning you on your knee's infront of him. your back pressed against his chest.

he used his knee's to seperate yours, shuffling them apart. tara came infront of you, on her knee's as well. she attatched her lips with yours while chris was positioning himself. your arm came around the back of her neck and the other reached behind you to go to the back of chris's neck as well.

chris brushes his tip against your clit. you instantly jerked your hips away from his from the overstimulating feeling. he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you back. you whine but he shushes you. "jus one more, yeah?" he assured right before his cock entered you, filling you up completely.

your lips left tara's to let out what was practically a scream. "shh honey" enphasizing her words, tara's hand clasps over your mouth. she lowered her head level to your tits before taking a nipple into her mouth. this makes you whine again, then again when chris's tip abuses your cervix without warning.

you're already so sensitive from his tongue and fingers just moments ago, his cock feels like too much but so good at the same time. "so good for us" chris praises before slamming into you again, making you scream into tara's hand. her other hand lands a light slap to your sensitive clit, making your hips jerk. you don't go far against chris' firm hold on you. "mm- g- cmm" even with taras hand shutting you up, they both know what you're saying.

chris mouth is now right next to your ear "not yet. you're gonna cum with me" he mutters to you. you shake your head, not thinking you're gonna last. "either you can fuckin wait for me or- fuck- or i'll make you take a fourth o-one" he threatens you. you shake your head in momentary panic. there's no way you're gonna cum for a fourth after this but if he makes you wait much longer to cum you aren't gonna have a choice but to finish before he allows you to.

tara continues to swirl her tongue around your nipple fiercly and as if you weren't already fucked dumb, her middle finger makes sudden contact with your clit, rubbing fast circles.

now you know that they're both just trying to fucking ruin you.

now you speak nonsense into her hand, making her smirk with amusement. "what's wrong honey, too much?" tara asks you with a faux-sympathetic pout. you aggresively nod your head. responding for tara, chris pulls you impossibly tighter against him, hips slamming harder into you. you yell into her hand and both of them smirk. "want us to stop?" she says teasingly, already knowing the answer but wanting to make sure. you instantly shake your head no.

her fingers still toy your clit and chris's pace slowly starts to falter. you can feel his breath on your neck becoming un-even. tara circles your sensitive bundle of nerves faster and you're sure your gonna be cumming before you're allowed.

luckily for you, the way chris holds your body tighter and his forehead drops to your shoulder says otherwise. "you gonna cum with me?" his voice is all low fucked out and it makes your walls squeeze him harder than ever. you nod, unable to speak for more than one reason. "go on then" he encourages along with a harsh slam of his hips. the second "go" left his lips your vision went white.

the next thing you were aware of was about 20 seconds after when his seed was spilling up into you to coat your walls. his forehead rested on your shoulder while he praised you on how good you were for him. "did so well" he said before gently kissing your shoulder while tara's fingers left your clit at the same time chris pulled out of you.

chris reached down next to your bed to retrieve everyones clothing for them. you had two bathrooms so you and tara headed off to one for a shower. chris to the other bathroom for the same reason.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

you all returned to your room after, clean and in new clean clothes. (lucky for chris, nick hangs out here often and you love to steal his shit to wear for comfort.)

chris had entered just as you finished making your bed with fresh sheets. "better not have been fucking in there without me" chris joked as he made himself comfortable laying on your bed. you and tara both simultaniously rolled your eyes at him, scoffing. you both joined him on the bed to lie down.

you were in the middle of them. chris spooned you and you spooned tara, cuddling one another comfortbly way past awkwardness at this point. chris rubbed a relaxing hand up and down your side and you played with your other friends hair relaxingly. you should know better though, comfortable silence doesn't exist with chris around...

"guess what?"

you audibly sighed. "what?" tara and you groaned knowingly in unison.

there's a little grin on his face that neither of you can see, but nonetheless you both sense the ridiculousness. "i saw both your boobies" he says in a childish sing-song tone.

"oh my god" "are you fucking kidding me?"

i really hope y'all enjoyed. ᥫ᭡

tags: @daddyslilchickenfingers @fratbrochrisgf @mattsrod @sturncakez @sturniololovesss @sturniccc

#chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #tara yummy smut #sturnsdoll #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets fanfic #tara yummy #tara yummy fanfic #tara yummy x reader #sturniolo smut

[sincerelyneo]

will you be reposting the jeno fic you had on your old blog? it was my fave 🥺

here it is <3

fireproof | l.jn

“‘cause no body saves me baby the way you do”

💿now playing: fireproof by one direction

❯ summary: Your brother Jaemin loves throwing parties when your parents aren’t home — but you hate it. In an attempt to escape the loud music and sweaty bodies you try and head out. But there’s no way your brother’s best friend, Jeno, is letting you wander around the streets so late.

❯ pairings: jeno x fem!reader

❯ genre: smut, brother’s best friend, college!au

❯ words: 8.4k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, masturbation, minor mentions of drug use, drinking, marking, slight protective brother jaemin, begging, spanking, mentions of marking, unprotected sex (don't do this!), oral sex (m/f receiving), fingering, reader uses she/her pronouns, jeno fucks his best friend’s little sister.

a/n: i changed the title hehehe

This party fucking sucks.

You’re not even drunk. The vodka is watered down, you're sure of it. Your friends ditched you about half an hour ago — disappearing with some of the guys they had been speaking to and seeing. 

"Come to the party with us, they said." You mimic to yourself into your plastic cup. "It'll be fun, they said." 

You scoff taking another swig but pull your face at the awful taste that lingers in your mouth. There are better things you could be doing on a Saturday night, you think. You’re almost positive you saw a new show released on Netflix today. Or better yet, you could be reading some sort of erotic novel that would spice up your Saturday night more than this shit.

But the thing is, this party is at your own fucking house.

Your brother is throwing it. 

Every time your parents go away for one weekend he can’t help but jump at the opportunity to trash the place. You don't see why he can't just have a few of the boys around, have some beers and then call it a night. But no, that isn't exactly Jaemin’s style. 

Of course, he has to invite a bunch of random weirdos that seem to be snorting cocaine off of every surface in this house, and smoking whatever kind of weed they could find. And sure, you’re not impartial to a good night but this... this is not your idea of a good night.

At all.

Sighing, you push through the masses of people, seeing the sweaty bodies that are dry humping one another or eating each other's faces off so much you feel like you’re going to throw up at the sight. 

Stopping in your tracks, you reach into the back pocket of your denim jeans to pull out your phone, seeing that it is half-past midnight. If you know Jaemin — and you did — this was only the beginning of the night. The party is definitely far from over.

Fuck sake.

You put your phone back in your pocket and continue to manoeuvre around the bodies in the hallway. Your stomach growls and you think about how you're drinking on an empty stomach. The only thing open at this time is a Mcdonald's but you don't necessarily want to be that person that sits in McDonald's by themselves on a Saturday night. 

Still, you head for your front door and try your luck at an escape. As you reach your hand out to grab the door handle you smash headfirst into a body. Well to be more specific a chest. A hard chest.

"Ow, fuck!" You lift your hand up, rubbing your forehead.

"Sorry little Na, didn't see you there." You immediately recognise that voice. The deep slowness in which he talks. It’s the only voice that has a straight hotline to your core. 

Yeah, you couldn't ever forget that voice.

You stop rubbing your head and slowly look up, following the lines of his muscled chest that you can see through the tight white t-shirt he's wearing with a pair of denim jeans and converse. Yes you had already checked him out tonight, but you’re only human. And when your eyes meet that sharp jawline, hollowed-out cheekbones and those damming brown eyes, you involuntarily clench your thighs together.

You shun yourself because you know you can’t have him. And that’s the reason why you hate him. 

He's your brother’s best friend.

Lee fucking Jeno.

The worst man on this planet. for many reasons like for one he’s insanely hot. Like too hot. Who on this planet even needs to be that hot? But to make it worse he knows he's hot. Girls are always flying off his arm fueling his ego. He's also selfish and arrogant. 

But the reason you hate him the most, the reason you despise him so much, and avoid him at all costs is because of the burning need — it's past being a want it's a fucking need — to just devour him. Every part of you screams out whenever he is in the same room. 

And you hate it.

You have zero control over your words and actions with him — and he knows it with how much you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of him over the years. Your cheeks tend to grow red without your permission, and oh does he love to point that out.

Ever since your brother brought him home in his first year of high school, they have been inseparable — and you’ve been madly in love.

Well, you’re not in love with the boy. You just, you know, want to rip his clothes off. And let him fuck the living daylights out of you.

"Aw, there they are." He distracts you from your thoughts. 

His eyes are burning straight through you. As if he can tell what you’re thinking, how you’re feeling. And right now, you have very infuriating dampness in your panties that wasn't there 30 seconds ago. 

"Those rosy cheeks, are they for me, little Na?" You swat his hand away as it attempts to reach up to caress your cheek or some stupid shit like that.

"Stop that Jeno!” You snap at him, getting angry is your default with him.

It the perfect remedy to keep him away from you, so you don't do something stupid like fuck your brother’s best friend

“Please just get out my way.” 

"Such a pleasant girl, aren't you?" He winks. 

He fucking winks, and your pussy screams in delight. If you were any other girl, you’d be swooning right now. You’d be on your knees begging for it. 

Well, you won't be on your  knees for him.

Ever.

Especially not tonight.

"Just get out of my way, Jeno,” you push him rather hard. 

You knew it wouldn't make him budge if he didn't want it too but he dramatically moved out of your way of the door. You yank it open and dart through onto the front lawn. Halfway down the driveway, a sharp tug on your arm spins you around and you’re  faced with Jeno... again.

"Fuck sake, what do you want?" You shake your arm out of his grip but he doesn't let go. 

You give up, huffing and dropping your shoulders. The two of you are just staring at each other, so much so that you didn't even realise how close you really were. Your chests are almost touching, there is a hair width between you. And due to your height, if you looked forwards you’d be looking at the bottom of his neck, right where you see him gulp before meeting your eyes again. They seem to burn into yours, suddenly growing intense. 

He is the first to look away but he doesn't just look away, no. You watch as his eyes flash down to your lips. Your breath hitches, he sees that and when he looks back to your eyes again, he flashes you a knowing smirk.

Motherfucker. 

"Come back inside." He says as he throws his head to the side, signalling to your house.

"No," you all but stomp your foot.

"You're such a fucking brat, you know that right?" He growls, closing that gap so that your chests touch. There’s an electricity running through you, begging for him. 

"I'm not a fucking brat, I just don't want to be here at this shitty party!” 

You don't break his eye contact, chests still touching. He can sure as hell feel each heavy breath you take and probably every beat of your heart that seems to have sped up since he moved closer.

"Just go inside, go to your room, anything. Just don't fucking leave, your brother would have my balls if I let you go out alone this late at night.” 

You roll your eyes at the mention of your brother. You love him, you really do, but hearing the word brother leaves Jeno’s lips reminds you exactly why he’s even here.

It’s not for you — it’s for Jaemin’s sake. 

"I don't see why either of you care, you've got plenty of booze and girls to keep you occupied to not even notice me gone,” you stand your ground, trying to tug your arm once again but he still won't let go.

However, he has loosened his grip so it isn't so harsh, but it's still locked around your wrist. In fact, you’re sure you feel him drawing little circles on the inner skin with his thumb and that thought alone has you squirming no matter how much you try to ignore it. 

"I think I'd always notice when you're not there," Jeno says under his breath, his face lowering to yours. 

If you didn't know better then you’d think he was about to kiss you. But that can't happen. Can it? 

Everything but your core is saying no. Your whole body is screaming to open up your mouth and say please. But you ignore it — you always do— and try to keep a brave face. But as he gets so close, too close, your eyes automatically flutter shut.

You expect his lips to graze yours but they don't, instead, you feel his cheek against you , only faintly, as his lips skim your ear lobe.

"I think I'd always notice when you're not there because there won't be some childish little brat moaning about not getting her own way." 

Your eyes shoot open as he pulls back, laughing at your flushing cheeks. Your eyes narrow as you finally tug your arm hard enough this time that he has no choice but to release you. 

"I do not moan about not getting my own way and I am not childish nor a brat,” you sneer at him. 

"Sure,-" he huffs, laughing, crossing his arms over his chest. "Whatever you say." 

"Why can’t you just go inside and leave me alone,” you cross your own arms over your chest. 

"No can do." He stands there like some sort of bouncer, you look to your right and see the path only a few steps away. He watches you and says a low, demanding, "Don't." 

But you do it. 

You spin on your heel and run for it. But you only make it two steps before two large arms are wrapped around your waist from behind and you’re being sprung back into a hard chest. Jeno’s one arm sits tightly around your waist, his fingers digging into your hip and you squirm against him. To stop your wriggling, his other hand flies up to grab a hold of your throat, tilting your head back to the rest of his shoulder. 

His eyes flash to his hand around your neck and he takes a deep breath that causes his eyes to flutter shut. Then you feel something growing behind you causing your own eyes to grow wide. He leans forward, lips skimming yours barely. 

“I said don't." It sounded more like a growl than anything and a small whimper escaped your lips. "Are you going to walk inside or am I going to have to carry you?" He whispers still close to your mouth. If you lifted your head slightly, you’d be kissing.

"I'm not going back inside." You sternly reply, he just laughs and his hold loosens on you. 

But he doesn’t free you. Instead he throws you clean over his shoulder in a fireman's lift. 

“Put. Me. Down. Jeno." You scream, hitting his back, but he doesn't listen. Carrying on heading back inside your house. 

Your cheeks are bright red and you stop your attack on Jeno’s back and decide to clench his shirt in your fists and hide your face in it.

"What's going on here?" You hear Jaemin’s voice and your head flies up.

"Your sister tried to escape," Jeno says laughing, bending down to lower you to the ground. 

When he stood back up, you were so close your bodies touched again, your breasts rubbed against his firm chest and your nipples stiffened. His eyes glanced down to them and they darken, then he looks to you again and grabs your shoulders, spinning you around to face your brother. You automatically lifted your arms up and over your breasts to cover the obvious arousal.

"Come on Y/N, you know you can't be walking around aimlessly at night." Jaemin chastises you.

"I'm not a child Jaem," you roll your eyes with a shake of your head.

"So what? Grown ass people still get kidnapped!” 

You groan, I'm going to my room." 

You push past him and head towards the stairs. You turn around seeing Jeno’s smug face knowing he’s got his own way about you coming back inside.

But you won’t give him the satisfaction. You’ll  just sneak out the window and have your perfect escape. He won't know. 

Not like he’ll come to check — right?

You spin on your heel as you hear the sound of footsteps following behind you. Jeno’s there, eyes locked on your ass until he sees you looking back down at him and then cocks his head to the side and smiles innocently. 

“What are you doing?” You spit. 

"Just making sure you actually do go to your room." He flashes his infamous eye smile that has plagued your dreams since you first met him. "And that your windows are locked. Don't want you running away now do we?" he winks at you.

He’s so irritating!

With a huff, you turn around and storm your way up the last couple of stairs, making sure your stomps are extra loud. You can just hear Jeno snickering behind you and that only rattles you even more. When you reach the landing you turn immediately and head to the last door of the hallway and pull it open, stepping inside of your bedroom. You go to slam the door shut but a sneaker covered foot stops in between preventing it.

You immediately roll your eyes and groan. 

"Leave me alone Jeno." You groan, leaning up against the door with your back, pushing it.

"Let me check your windows then I'll leave."

"What kind of request is that?” You sigh, running a hand through your hair. 

"Just let me."

"No."

The two of you enter a stare off — one you both know he’s going to win. And he does, because you don’t even let two whole minutes pass before you’re huffing out a “Fine.” 

He makes his way over to your window, making sure it's locked, then he chuckles, drawing your curtains too. The only thing lightening the room was your bedside lamp that you had an awful habit of leaving on. That, and it was the perfect deterrent to make it look like someone was in there, keeping strangers from having sex on your bed.

“All done?” You ask, breathy. 

He smirks, his eyes flashing to your lips again and you swear to god if he does that one more time you’re either going to kick him in the balls or jump on him and kiss him. 

You force yourself to take a step back and take a deep breath which makes him laugh.

"Well goodnight little Na, don't go sneaking out because I will know about it." He walks off to the door and before he exits you say,

"And how would you possibly know that?"

He looks over his shoulder, his eyes flash up and down your body, "I just will,” he winks then closes the door behind him.

You huff out and stomp your foot like a child. God you needed to grow a backbone and stop letting that idiot mess with you. 

Storming into your bathroom you slam the door shut. You strip off your clothes and turn on the shower. Whilst waiting for it to get up to temperature, you sigh. 

"Let me just lock your windows for ya." You pull a face copying him. "Want me to check that for ya?"

Once you’re done in the shower you climb out of it and dry yourself with a towel. 

"He's so fucking annoying ugh," you say to yourself as you pull the bathroom door open and saunter into your bedroom naked. 

You don't even check to see if anyone was in there, too busy ranting about him. And when you feel the cold draft of your bedroom it makes you realise you had just walked into your unlocked bedroom naked. Immediately, you covered your body remembering the party going on downstairs; but on first glance, it appeared no one was in there. Still you quickly grab your oversized grey t-shirt from the end of your bed, throwing it on over your head, but skipping your underwear. 

Your room was fairly simple with white furniture, a wooden floor, soft pink bedding, a few cuddly toys. The bed lies against the far wall, opposite the door and you leave your lamp on to have a little bit of light to help you sleep. 

Trying to fall asleep you flip over so your back faces the light. You try a few different sleep scenarios but everything keeps going back to Jeno.

And the way his hand gripped around your neck. 

You flip over again, keeping your eyes shut, yet, Jeno just waltzes into your mind continuously. Like he won't leave you alone. You feel so much anger coursing through your blood, yet you have this strange pulling into your core. 

You need to give attention to it — so you do. And as soon as you slip your hand under the covers, the fantasies start rolling in. Jeno’s arms around you, grabbing at your waist, your hips, your ass, your breasts.

Your breath hitches.

His tongue in your mouth, along your skin, tracing your neck and stomach, then between your folds lapping at you. Your eyes shoot open as you clench your thighs together and immediately feel the wetness.

It was just too much to ignore. This wasn’t going away. You already knew that. 

You just needed some relief and then you’ll be free for the night. Jeno never needs to know and it’s not like you haven’t done this exact same thing before over him. 

Your right hand finds your centre first, sliding between the folds and instantly feeling the slick wetness there. Slowly and sensually, you begin moving your fingers in a circular motion. Eyes closing instantly, flashes of Jeno now being played before you.

In your mind, it was no longer your hand but his. Rubbing your clit, sending shivers down your spine and causing a small panting moan to escape you. 

Your left hand begins clutching at the sheets and as you feel your nipples peak and rub against the soft material of your shirt, you have no choice but to swiftly move your hand up and under to take hold of your own breasts and squeeze. You moan again as you begin to work your fingers faster over your clit.

Now in your head, Jeno stood before you shirtless. Seeing the ripples in the muscles of his abs, he flexes his arms, making you grow weaker. But you always felt like this whenever you saw him shirtless at the pool, or the beach. 

And you couldn't deny how fucking sexy he was — you wouldn’t?”

"What’re you thinking about?" 

You pause instantly, back arched, orgasm growing close and eyes squeezed shut. You can't decipher whether that voice was in your head or in real life so you just grow still and relax, trying to pretend it didn’t happen. 

Your breathing which was already heavy, grows even more so, this time with panic and worry. You don't want to open your eyes, scared of what you might see because you recognised that voice.

At least, you’re really fucking hoping Jeno’s voice is all in your head, because you’re seconds away from orgasm.

"I asked you a question." 

Your eyes fly open. He’s definitely not in your head. 

Ripping your hand away from your clit, you pull the other away from your nipple and force yourself into a seated position with your hands splayed behind to hold you up. You scream on instinct, he doesn't so much as flinch as he stands at the end of your bed. 

His eyes are dark, head low and looking up at you through his lashes. He has that smirk on his face, and his hands are fidgeting, rolling his fingers against his palm. Your eyes roam his body as your scream continues and you wish you hadn't, only because your scream turned into a moan as you spied his hard erection pushing against his jeans.

You gasp and look back at his face. 

"What're you doing Jeno?" You whisper-shout, even though the party downstairs would make it difficult for anyone to hear you anyway. 

Still, you didn’t want any party goers walking in on a flustered you in bed with Jeno and his very large, very prominent erection, standing at the base. 

Fuck. It's so big. You can tell from how it's breaking at the seams of his jeans to be let free. Your mouth waters at the sheer thought of his dick — wondering what it looks like, how it feels in your hands, in your mouth — how it tastes. 

Fuck no. Absolutely not. 

You shake your head, trying to rid the thoughts and ignore the fact your core is pulsing right now, begging for one last touch so you can explode into orgasm. You really fucking needed it.

"I asked you what you were thinking about?" He says lowly, and it causes your breathing to still.

“H-how long have you been standing there?" You whimper. 

He shrugs, “That doesn't matter, what does matter is-" he moves his head up, looking you dead in the eyes as he cracks his neck and then his fists in each hand. "-What you were thinking about whilst touching yourself? Was it me?" 

He smirks again and you stood up, throwing the duvet off of your legs. 

"Not a chance," He says sternly. You look at him again, face paling. 

"What do you mean, no?" you ask, cocking your head.

"I mean don't you fucking move-" His tongue came out to lap at his bottom lip as his eyes moved down your body, down your legs. 

You instantly went to grab the duvet again but he grabbed it first, ripping it from the bed and throwing it across the room. You get down on all fours, crawling to try and get it before him. 

"Jeno!" You exclaim, reaching your hand out for it but it was too far away. You look up at him on all fours, and from this angle... God. You gulp. 

"Give me my cover."

You try to wash away every fantasy of being in this position before him but you can't ignore the way you need his hard cock, seeping at the tip and begging for you to lick it, to suck it. 

Stop. No. Not now.

His hand comes to the side of your face, pushing a piece of your hair behind your ear and you shiver at the touch. 

"Lie. Back. On. The. Bed." He commands.

Your eyes flutter shut for a moment and then slowly, you move to follow his command until you are back down on the bed. You keep your legs closed and hands on your stomach. 

You weren’t sure why you’re listening to him — obeying him . But something in you, some instinct is just screaming at you to let this play out, see what he wants.

"Touch yourself." He says and you blanch, your eyes growing wide and you sit up again, but one stern look from him has you lying back down again. "Touch yourself and tell me what you think of, how you feel, tell me everything Y/N."

Your name. He never bothers to call you that. Usually emphasising how you’re his best friend’s little sister with the nickname he’d given you. But honestly, you’re thankful for the nickname because hearing your actual name from his lips, all nasally and sensual, sends you spiralling. 

It makes you putty in his hands. And as for your hands? Well, they slowly spread your legs wide revealing your soaking wet cunt to him. You keep your eyes pierced on him, watching how his breath hitches, eyes glued to you. The way he automatically grabs his cock through his jeans and squeezes is like a reflex. Closing his eyes only briefly before they're back on you, on your core. 

You feel yourself growing red, the heat of embarrassment consuming you whole as you slide your hand down your stomach. As soon as your fingers make contact with your clit, your hips are bucking off of the bed and your back starts to curve. Building up your arousal doesn't take long. You were already half there, teetering on the edge. 

Except this time your eyes lock onto Jeno’s for real whilst your fingers are moving, soft moans leaving your lips. You spy his own hand on his cock, he hasn't pulled it free but he moves his hand back and forth over his shaft. You can see the way his arms tense as he moves and watches you.

You throw your head back with another moan. Seeing him stood there isn't enough, you need something more. You need him climbing on top of you, replacing your fingers with his. His hot breath against your neck as he rubs you harder and faster. 

"What are you thinking about?"

"You." You say breathily.

"What about me?"

Your eyes shoot open to stare at him, he looks tense and flustered. Just as bad as you. His hand stops moving on his cock and you make a mental note that he might've been close. Too close. And this might be over too soon.

"Your fingers on my clit, rubbing me," you throw your head back as the fantasy flashes again. 

"Yes, and what else?" He growls. 

"Your mouth." You breathe again.

"My mouth, huh?" He bites and your fantasy continues. 

"Yes. Everywhere." You cry out, orgasm seconds away. "Your mouth on me, about to- God, Jeno I'm gonna cum,” your back arches, hips bucking, fingers moving so fast and rough. 

"Look at me." Your eyes fly open at the command. "I want you to cum whilst looking at me."

And you do. The sheer dominance radiating off of him is the final straw that has you crashing down. 

Your orgasm rips through you as your hips lift so far off the bed. You moved your fingers through your orgasm, riding it out but finally, your hips fell back to the bed and you let out a heavy breath.

Before you could even open your eyes again, you felt two large arms wrap under your thighs gripping your hips, and suddenly you’re yanked to the end of the bed. Your eyes snap open, and your head lifts up as you spy Jeno on his knees at the end of the bed, his mouth centimetres from your dripping pussy.

"J-Jeno,” you mumble, just the sight of him has you moaning. 

You’re not sure if getting yourself off in front of him was the moment you both decided to cross the line; but now him manoeuvring between your legs, you knew you definitely had. Regardless, you know now you aren't ever going back to the dynamic you had before. 

"I’m gonna make those fantasies come to life baby.” 

He doesn't miss a beat. His tongue comes out and swipes a long lick up and through your folds. All common sense leaves your head as you fall back against the bed. 

"God, you taste so good. I fucking knew you would." 

He’s thought about this? You know you have. 

He repeats the motion again, this time focusing on your clit, making sure to run a smooth stripe along it, circling it only slightly, enough to have you wriggling. One of his hands splays over your stomach, holding your hips down. 

"I want you to cum on my tongue. I want to taste every drop of you,” you gulp, looking down at him between your thighs. You don't miss the dark pupils in his eyes and that daring look, the one telling you to follow his instructions. 

"Jeno, oh my god,” you cry out, your head flying back as his mouth attacks your clit. He sucks it in, flicking his tongue all over in a frenzied motion. 

You know he knows all the right ways to make a girl squirm. And you are fucking squirming. All over the fucking bed, you’d be breaking free from him if he didn't have his large veined hand holding your stomach down. Your stomach is now on show. Your t-shirt has risen up to just below your breasts and you see the way his eyes watch the movement as you move about, tits bouncing around.

And as if he can hear your thoughts he says,

"Take your top off." 

You do it without question, lifting the hem and throwing it over your head. Now you’re laying there completely naked. His hand that was on your stomach comes up and takes hold of one breast, instantly taking your nipple between his fingers and you hear him, no you feel him, moan into your pussy. 

The vibrations cause you to cry out, hands knuckling the bed sheets. 

"You're so fucking hot Y/N, God." He murmurs before attacking you again, his mouth working wonders.

And that tongue. You’re so close. You can feel it. 

Then you feel as he slides two fingers into you. Jeno curls his fingers inside of you, hitting some sort of sensitive spot, and as soon as his fingers massage that area inside you and his mouth returns to your clit, you explode.

You don't even know if the music downstairs would cover your screams as you fell into ecstasy. His hand on your breast doesn’t  move, but the one that had been hooked on your hip moves to splay against your stomach holding you down as he laps at you, riding you through your second orgasm until you couldn’t take it anymore. He pulls his fingers out, then his mouth away from you at just the right time.

You lay there spent. Completely. 

Eyes fluttering open. Jeno stood between your legs looking down at you. His cock looked painful in his jeans. You had once felt exhausted and ready to fall asleep but as soon as you saw his erection you shot up in your seat. You immediately fumble with his jeans until his hand comes to your jaw, pulling your head up to look into his eyes. He stares for a moment before blinking, taking a deep breath.

"You don't have to- I didn't do that for you to-"

"I want to. I want this." You nod eagerly,"I want you.” 

You lick your lips and it's as if something snaps in him, that moment of care vanishes and he lets go of your chin.

"Well then, suck my cock,” he says, standing there and you do as you’re told.

You unfasten his jeans, pull them down and then his underwear. His large erect cock springs free instantly and without a second thought you take hold of him in your hand. Your hands look tiny against his dick. 

You move your hand slowly up and down his cock, and notice how his thighs tense, then his stomach and you follow your eyes up until you meet his face. His head is hung low, eyes dark and hands clenched by his sides. Keeping your eyes on his, you lean forward and spy the precum, flicking your tongue out and taking it in to swallow down with a moan that makes him grunt. 

You moved so that your face was closer to his balls, then you stroked your tongue all along his length, and felt the way he flexed beneath your muscle. There’s a cocky smirk covering your face when you move back to the top and suck his tip into your mouth.

"Do you like sucking my cock?" He asks, his hand threading into your hair to start pulling on the roots to yank your head backwards. 

"Do you like it when I suck your cock, Jeno?" You flip the question with a smile the power in your hands. You continue working him and he flexes his hand in your hair.

"That's how you wanna play?" He grins at you.

You pretend to think for a moment, "I’m not playing anything." You move your head closer down his length, licking  another long stripe hearing how he curses under his breath and thrusts his hips towards you. "I just want to suck your cock." 

With that, you take him into your mouth, sliding down until you reach your limit. You can't take him whole, he’s way too big for that, but you take what you can. He coughs and splutters a bunch of inaudible words, but you just pull back up and repeat the motion, continuing to take him back into your throat. 

His hand stays threaded in your hair, keeping a rough hold so that you can't pull away — not that you wanted to.  

You love every second. Even as you feel him tensing, his hips moving as he thrusts into your mouth. You look up through your lashes to see his head thrown back as he moans out and hisses every so often when you drag your teeth along his cock. You can tell he likes it as the precum coats your tongue. That and the way he doesn't tell you to stop. 

"Do. That. Again."

And you do, watching his head fall forwards."Such a pretty sight, my cock filling your mouth. What do you think your brother would think about this?" he smirks and your face falls pale.

You almost stop sucking his dick but he doesn't let you, slamming his hips forwards so his cock hits the back of your throat.

Your brother.

Not a thought you want to think about right now but it is something you needed to consider. This was his best friend. You’d finally gotten the man so forbidden, always out of bounds. The whole time you didn’t know that he wanted you as much as you wanted him. 

You moan uncontrollably, and it must send vibrations along his cock as you feel it twitch in your mouth, his thrusts become sloppy and his grip on your hand grows tighter. 

"Fuck, Y/N, I'm gonna cum." He grits out. "Are you gonna let me cum in that pretty mouth of yours?" 

You look up at him. You can't speak so you try to nod. 

"God, you’ve always been the death of me," He thrusts several more times as you slide your tongue all over his length and tip. 

You do it a final time as you take him to the back of your throat, gliding your teeth along him which must've been his undoing as you felt the hot steaming cum splatter against the back of your throat. 

You pulled him out your mouth slowly. Even as he is softening he is still thick and large. You kitten lick the tip as he hisses, causing him to loosen his grip in your hair and you sit back, making sure to obviously gulp so he knows you swallowed every last drop of him. Leaning forwards, his hand comes to your chin and he moves his mouth so close to your you think he might kiss you but instead he says,

"Good girl." 

You hate the way those two words made you clench your thighs together. You thought the two orgasms were enough but no, you’re ready for more. You need more. 

He’s quick to remove his shirt, and as he lifts his arms his abs flex. You are point-blank gawking at him standing before you, making him smirk. 

That snaps you out of it. Remembering you are sitting here, soaking wet and naked before him. You crawl back on the bed and then realise you have no duvet so you have to pull your knees to your chest and cross your arms over your knees to cover yourself. 

He watches you, laughs and then shakes his head. He then moves, shoving off his jeans and underwear the rest of the way off until they both land on the floor.

"Wh-What are you doing?" You ask stuttering, thinking he should actually be getting dressed to leave.

"What do you think I'm doing?" he asks. 

Can't he ever just give you a simple answer? 

Then you notice how his cock has sprung to life again and his hand moves to touch it. Moving up and down the length as he cracks his neck.

"You're h-hard again?" You stutter, eyes glued to the impressive size of him. 

"I'm always hard for you baby." He winks and for once, it didn't make you want to punch him. 

"Jeno, we can't." You shake your head.

 You’re already way past the line. Sex would destroy the whole scale. Still, the idea of him, his cock inside of you, whispering filthy things in your ear... it isn't something you can ignore. 

"You want it." He says point blankly. 

You gulp and remain silent. He moves onto the bed, kneeling and then crawls towards you until he is over you. His hair has fallen over his eyes — so fucking hot. "I know you want it, why try to deny it?" He cocks his head to the side, smugly.

"I-I'm not." You fidget. 

“Yes, you are." He ducks his head low, burying it in your neck. You feel his warm breath and your heartbeat rackets so loud. "You don't want to want me to fuck you,” His teeth graze your neck, sending you into a panting mess as he sucks and bites. 

He then pulls away and laps at the mark you know is there, the one he put there as a reminder tomorrow when you come to your senses that you did this.

"So I’ll ask again. What do you want?" He looks down at you, plump pink lips swollen and wet from his constant licking and biting them. 

You’re going to let your brothers best friend fuck you. And you’re going to love every second of it.

Not wasting another moment longer to think, you grab hold of his neck and lift your head whilst pulling him to you to smash your lips together. There’s heat, fire, and explosions of electricity. 

Your hands claw at his neck, his back, his sides. Anything to pull him closer. His crotch, his hard cock, grinds against your soaking hole and you groan out whilst continuing to kiss him. Both so desperate for each other. His hands skim down your body, kneading your breasts, your hips. He grabs hold of anywhere and everywhere. 

His lips detach from yours, giving you a moment to see how swollen they are before they're attacking your neck. He peppers kisses along your jaw, not sweet kisses but hard and sloppy kisses. Sucking and biting the skin causing your back to arch into his chest, pushing your breasts against him, making him moan. He thrusts his hips forwards, his cock sliding between your folds, hitting against your clit making you quiver.

"Fuck, we really shouldn't be doing this." He continues kissing you down your neck, reaching your collar bones that he also decides to leave marks on. 

"Jeno please," you cry out. Both of his hands move to your hips to hold you still. 

"Please what baby?" He smirks before moving lower to take one of your nipples into his mouth.

"Fuck Jeno,” you cry out as he flicks his tongue over the bud, biting it harshly so you cry out again then soothing it with a soft warm suck.

"Please what baby?" He repeats. 

"Fuck me. Now!”

"And what about your brother?" he brings him up again and you roll your eyes. 

"Stop bringing him up," You moan as he takes your other nipple into his mouth, repeating the process.

"He'll kill us if he finds out." he grins.

"Then he can't find out," You pant out of breath as Jeno moves.

His face is so close to yours that your lips are only just touching, his chest is pushed against you and his cock sits lodged between your folds. You try to shift to gain some friction against your clit but his grip holds you still. His eyes flicker across your face then he says,

"I won't tell if you won't?" His lips caress yours in the faintest of movements. You flick your tongue out to wet your lips, but in the process he bites onto your muscle making you wince then moan, "What do you think, huh?” 

There’s no room for discussion — your body won’t let you. 

"I won't tell if you won't."

He doesn't miss a beat once he gets your approval. His lips are on yours as his hips thrust forwards. His cock thrusting inside of you, tearing you open as you pull your mouth away to cry out.

"Holy fuck."

He stills once inside you, making sure to push as far as possible until his pelvis meets your skin. Your legs wrap around his waist instantly.

"You feel so fucking good." He breaks from your kiss to breathe. "I always knew you would but this-" he looks down to where you are connected and he thrusts further, trying to get deeper but he can't possibly. "-this is better than anything I could've imagined." 

"Move, please." You grunt trying to lift your hips to encourage some movement. His eyes fly open, dark and daring. 

"Beg me." He smirks and does a tiny thrust, a teasing thrust.

"Fuck off,” you pant, trying to do it yourself but he uses his hips to pin you to the bed.

"Beg." He smiles and cocks his head to one side. "Me."

You hated his arrogance. But fuck, you want him so bad. So badly that you will beg.

"Please fuck me, Jeno." He pulls out of you and you suck in a deep breath.

"Again." He grins now. 

You can't bear to look at him but looking down means watching as he holds just the tip inside of me.

"Please. Fuck. Me." You pant, half moaning, begging for him. 

He thrusts so hard into you, you wince and moan out in pleasure. He hit so deep inside that you’re sure you’ll bruise.

"Anything for you, Y/N,” he whispers in your ear before sucking and biting on the lobe. 

Then he's pulling out and thrusting into you. Again. And again. And again. Harder and harder each time. Faster and faster. You lose your breath, becoming a big ball of pants and moans — just like  Jeno.

God, the sounds he makes. You’ve never heard someone so vocal before, but fuck it's hot. The small grunts he makes when he fucks you, the groans when you clench around his cock and feel yourself building. He moves his hands under your ass to lift it, plummeting into you from a new angle, going so much deeper.

"Your pussy is so tight. Fuck,” He says between thrusts, and gritted teeth. 

He seems to have found a weak spot right under your ear that has you clenching like mad around his cock. And he loves it. 

"How have you just been there in front of me this whole time? How have I stayed away from you?" He seems to be asking himself because he doesn’t press you for a reply. 

He removes his lips from your neck and sits back on his heels, his cock still inside of you, slowing his thrusts and he lifts your legs up, moving them over his shoulders. His head moves from side to side, placing a soft kiss on each ankle and for one second. You’re dumbfounded as he looks at you, a daring smirk written across his face. 

He wraps his arms around your thighs, locking your legs in a straight position against his chest on either side of his head, and then he begins pounding into you again. However this time, he moves one of his hands to your centre, his thumb moving closer to your clit. You feel how it grazes your nerves. He strums it once. Twice. Three times then you're wriggling around like a mess, back arching off as your orgasm tears through your body and you explode into euphoria. Again.

He rides you through it, fucking you as you clench and squeeze around him. A string of curse words come out of him, you feel him so close but he doesn't cum. He stops stroking your clit as you batted his hand away, you didn't realise you had been clenching the sheets with white knuckles until you relax your hands and feel a cramp in your palm.

Jeno slows his thrusts until he stills inside of you, his chest is moving up and down with each of his heavy breaths. You move your legs off of his shoulders, enjoying the movements as your legs feel strained too.

But as soon as your feet hit the bed, he grabs you and flips you so you land on your stomach. He pulls your hips up and slides into you again.

"Fuck!" You scream as he slams into you unapologetically. One hand holding your hip, the other trails along your back as he begins fucking you from behind. He leans over you, still ploughing, and comes closer to your ear.

"I always wanted to fuck you like this, you are always strutting around showing off, your ass? Do you like teasing me?" 

You don't even know what you like right now. Mind too focused on needed Jeno to fuck you any way he pleased. 

He grins, then shoves your head back down into the mattress, straightening his back and fucks you harder than you think you’ve ever have been before. You couldn't keep up with the movements, head a complete daze from all of the orgasms that he had given you.

You come to a conscious mind when a hard slap lands on your ass, it makes your pussy throb so he does it again, and again, rubbing over the area and soothing it before doing it again. Each time it makes you clench around him. 

"Jeno," you cry out between thrusts.

"Yeah, baby?" His voice sounded so much deeper, which told you he was close. That and the way his thrusts grew random and unstable.

"Want you to cum in me," You moan, clenching the sheets again. 

"I'm not wearing a condom," He grits through his teeth. 

"I'm on the pill,” you manage to say between heavy breaths. You needed him to cum in you now. 

He shakes his head, "Last thing I need is to get my best friend's little sister pregnant." And that was that because he thrust a few more times, then pulls out, and instantly, all over your ass and back you felt a hot liquid splatter about. 

As soon as his grip left your hip you fell straight down onto the mattress, and your body was thankful for it. Everything hurt. He'd destroyed you. Fucked you, well and truly. And you couldn't stop the smile on your face.

"I'll go get a cloth." He said through some heavy breaths then climbed off of the bed and went to your bathroom. He emerged a moment later, used the warm cloth to clean up his mess although you notice him take a minute to look at it.

"Admiring your work?" You asked him through a laugh, he looked at you and shook his head chuckling. 

"Trust me, if I could take a picture I would,” he wipes it away. Then he returned to the bathroom to throw the cloth in the hamper but as soon as he stood in the doorway of you heard three loud knocks on your bedroom door. 

"Y/N? You in there? Have you seen Jeno?" 

You shot up in bed, suddenly not tired or spent. Jeno’s eyes grew wide too.

You lifted your finger to your lips and gestured to Jeno to stay in the bathroom. He didn't hesitate as he shuts the door. 

Jaemin would fucking kill him and you, without a doubt. Only moments ago you had his best friend’s cum covering your ass. 

"One second," you shout,  jumping out of bed and grabbing your T-shirt. Then you rush over to the door, paint on your best sleeping face and yawn whilst opening it. 

"Oh, you were asleep?" Jaemin stood on the other side, hands braced on either side of the door frame.

You fake another yawn. He looks behind you and you turn too, fearful Jeno was standing there but then you spied your duvet cover on the other side of the room. Jamein frowned and looked back to you. 

"I was hot." You shrug. 

"Shit sorry," He quickly says. "I just can't find Jeno anywhere.” 

"He’s your friend not mine.”

"I don’t understand why you two hate each other," He rolls his eyes and you can't help but scoff at the irony. 

Hate wasn’t exactly the word you’d use for the guy that was just 8 inches deep inside of you. 

"Well, he's probably off getting high or fucking some girl.” 

“Better not be in our parent’s bed again,” he huffs, and your eyes go wide. “Fuck, he better not be doing it in my bed either,” he says to himself. 

And with that, he storms away heading for his room. Chuckling, you shut the door and Jeno emerges from the bathroom, a towel now wrapped around his waist and he stands there facing you. 

"That was close."

"Too close." You sigh. 

He dresses himself as you climb back in bed, getting your duvet back on and covering yourself with it. He walks over to the door and pulls it open, peeking outside to check the coast is clear, then once he does he turns to look over his shoulder at you.

"Our secret?" He says.

"Our secret." You nod and he steps out, not looking back and shuts the door.

You lie back on your bed, head falling into your pillows and laugh. 

But then you shake your head processing it all, moving your hand to cover your mouth, looking at the ceiling. 

You just fucked your brother’s best friend.

#jeno smut #jeno x reader #nct smut #nct x reader #nct dream smut #nct dream x reader #jeno scenarios #nct scenarios #kpop smut #nct hard hours

[sundrop-writes]

How would Spencer react to the f!reader eating a sucker in a very provocative way during a meeting?

I decided to change this up a bit. Rather than it being during a meeting, it's just randomly around the office because eating a sucker/lollipop during a meeting would be annoying af.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

How would Spencer Reid react to you teasing him with a lollipop?

Warnings: reader can definitely be interpreted as gender neutral because there isn't much description of them beyond their mouth (sorry if that isn't what you wanted lmao); this is very sensual/smutty toned (but there is no sex scenes); Spencer is thinking about sex acts/is having sexual fantasies about the reader; heavy sexual innuendo; definitely leans more toward Sub!Spencer; I was thinking of S4/S5 Spencer when I wrote this but you can imagine any Spencer; background Morcia; implications of Spencer masturbating in the bathroom at work. Reader loves teasing Spencer - idk what else. Not really proofread.

"Oooh, what's this?" You asked, walking up to see a large bowl of candy sitting in the middle of Morgan's desk.

"Leftovers from Halloween." Prentiss explained, not looking up from the file that she was reading. "Of course, Garcia put them on Morgan's desk. What was it that she said?"

"A little something sweet for my something sweet." JJ recited the words from her place at the coffee machine with a laugh.

"Oh, he is gonna love that when he comes in." You chuckled.

You knew that he wasn't going to eat all of it himself, and Garcia likely intended it as a pick-n-go for the office anyway - so you took a careful glance into the bowl and then picket an appealing round lollipop. A blow-pop, you quickly realized. Very nice. You knew the gum in the middle was crappy, but you would have fun seeing how long it would take to get to it, and it was cherry flavoured - one of your favourite candy flavours.

You grabbed it up and a few others to slip into your desk drawers, along with taking a few packets of M&Ms for your favourite desk neighbour. When you walked over to your desk that was in front of his, you tossed the candy so that it hit the front of his chest, and Spencer jumped violently, having been scared right out of his concentration from whatever he was reading. A thick academic paper, from the looks of it.

You heard Emily's nasel chuckle in from behind you at how hard he had jumped.

"Good morning." You greeted him with a wide smile as he glared at you, but took the candy and began opening it anyway.

"Yeah." He scoffed.

"You're welcome." You also said, nodding toward the candy in his hand.

"Did you know that M&Ms shortly after their creation, M&Ms were exclusively distributed to the US military during World War II as a part of soldier's rations?" Spencer stated, giving another one of his 'fun facts'.

"Due to the candy coating making them far less perishable, and far easier to transport due to the fact that they were less likely to melt. At the time, they were packaged in cardboard tubes and featured a violet colour among the candies. And that's how they became famously known as 'the candy that melts in your mouth, not in your hand'." Spencer explained, the last words becoming muffled as he stuffed some of the candy into his mouth.

"And now they have gone from feeding soldiers to being the breakfast of a skinny little genius like you." You joked, unwrapping your lollipop and raising it to your lips.

You were one of the people who joked about it, but you secretly loved the fact that he was skinny. You would never tell, but you imagined pinning him down and him not being able to get away because of his lack of muscle.

Spencer would have made some clever reply, but instead, his eyes became locked on your lips.

Watching your lips gently wrap around the roundness of the lollipop immediately sparked something in him. From that moment, his eyes focused on nothing but your mouth, and he absolutely lost all train of thought - including the fact that he had been reading something before you even sat down.

It wasn't even intentional at first. At first, you were just enjoying a random sweet treat at seven o'clock in the morning, going about small things like taking off your jacket and getting the files organized on your desk, and when you looked up to ask Reid if he had a spare red pen that you could use to mark off some things - that was when you noticed it.

That far off, glassy look in his eye that you had never seen before.

He was staring at your lips, hard, clearly not even realizing that he was doing it - at this point, the candy had just barely stained the inner part of your mouth red, and he was being driven insane, imagining himself running his thumb or even the head of his leaking cock along that spot, feeling the pure softness of your lips, having your sweet tongue reach out to meet the throbbing head of his-

"Reid?"

The sudden sound of your voice seemed to shake him from this daydream.

You pulled the lollipop from your mouth with a wet smack, and he swallowed a whimper - it was a sound so subtle that you wouldn't have been able to hear it if you hadn't been carefully listening. You clenched your jaw, suppressing a smirk. You didn't want him to know that he had been caught. Not yet.

"Um - ah - yeah?" He stuttered out, quickly looking back down at the papers in the middle of his desk, trying not to make it seem like he had been staring at you so blatantly.

"Can I borrow a red pen?" You asked, trying to give him your best look of feigned innocence as you placed the cherry red bulb back to your lips while waiting for his answer, gently tracing your tongue around it.

You loved the way his eyes clung to this action like a magnet, his own lips dropping open slightly as he let out a hot breath in awe, his pupils blown wide.

His pants were suddenly very tight.

Spencer had to purposefully tear his eyes away from your mouth when you began oh-so-slowly teasing the lollipop in and out of your lips, forcing him to perfectly picture the round head of his cock fucking between those perfect cherry lips.

He frantically looked around his desk, and grabbed the first pen with a red cap that he could find.

"Here you go." He mumbled, tossing it onto your desk, not even bothering to hand it to you.

He then grabbed his messenger bag from underneath his desk and so subtly placed it at his front while he scrambled off toward the bathroom. You simply let out a laugh and then shoved the candy into your mouth fully, looking back down at your files and getting to work.

Spencer could only pray that you would be done with the lollipop by the time he got back.

A/N: Okay this definitely turned more into the style of a blurb, but what I love about writing requests right in my inbox is that I don't need to do a super defined style, I can just write whatever comes off the top of my head and I don't have to worry about over-editing stuff. It's great for creativity and it's almost like a writing exercise? Anyway, I had a lot of fun with this.

Criminal Minds Masterlist

#sundrop writes #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic

[shellshocklove]

i wanna be your lover | joel miller

pairing/AU: 70s!pornstar!joel miller x inexperienced!female reader

summary: miserable after losing your job, your friend drags you out to a club to dance away your sadness. on the dancefloor you meet a handsome stranger, who then whisks you away into his fantasy world as his assistant for his porn career. what happens when the lines get blurred?

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! reader is 23, joel is in his early 30s, swearing, misogyny (bc of the times™), accuracies and inaccuracies about the 70s, drinking of alcohol, smoking of cigarettes (it’s the 70s alright), mentions of a bad previous sexual encounter and losing your virginity, use of pet names, porn (obviously lmao), sextoys, only one bed, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise kink, unprotected sex (don’t do it!!), no use of y/n

a/n: i had fun with this one, but it turned out to be longer than i first intended. i hope people will like it still! also big thank you to @dustydaddyyy​, for proofreading this

main masterlist / series masterlist / ao3

Under a pink and orange Los Angeles sky, your platforms clicked against the sidewalk. Day left an hour ago, dipping behind the green hills of Laurel Canyon. Walking down The Strip, arms linked with your friend Deborah, the street bustled in the awakening night. Music spilled from clubs and bars, seducing the dressed-up crowd passing by this Friday night.

“Do a little dance, make a little love,”

“This,” Deborah emphasized, coming to a stop outside a club, “is exactly what you need tonight to get your mind off everything.”

She clutched your arm tighter to her body, almost like she was afraid you’d run off, and maybe she had good reason to think you would. You weren’t exactly in the right mood to party. Only a few hours ago, you’d gotten fired from your job. Three years as Mr. Cooper’s personal assistant down the drain.

Mr. Cooper was the creative director, and one of the partners at the advertisement agency where you’d worked. He was an important man, and he’d dealt with all kinds of clients on a daily basis. For you, it had been a learning curve of a job. You had no prior experience as a personal assistant, and it had been intimidating.

You’d only just moved to the City of Angels when you’d gotten the job. With next to no money, having left behind your family and your small town, you were desperate for a job. When you’d seen the ad in the newspaper, left behind on the table of a café near your apartment, you’d stepped out on the sidewalk immediately to find a payphone. During the interview Mr. Cooper had looked you up and down and scowled as he’d read your resume. You’d shrank in your seat under his gaze, but even with your lacking resume, Mr. Cooper had hired you on the spot.

Later, during your first full week at your new job, you’d come to discover why Mr. Cooper had hired you so quickly ­– he’d been desperate for a new assistant. Overhearing some of the other ladies whispering to each other during lunch, you’d been able to piece together exactly why. Apparently, Mr. Cooper and his former personal assistant had been having an affair. He’d gotten her pregnant and wanted nothing to do with her or the baby – he was a married man after all. This was where the story had gotten hazy, and the grape vine sang different songs. One version of the story said he’d forced her to get an abortion and riddled with grief over the dead baby and their failing relationship, she’d quit her job and moved back to her parents in Maine. While the other version of the story said that, rightfully angry at Mr. Cooper for not taking any responsibility over their situation, she’d gone to visit his wife at home to tell her about what’s been going on. Which story was the truth, you don’t know. What you did know, was that Mr. Cooper was still married, and his previous assistant was no longer working for him.

Even if the job had been intimidating at first, you’d quickly gotten used to it. You stayed on top of everything: Mr. Copper’s clients, his calls, his schedule. Ordered flowers for his wife, and even sent boxes of chocolates to his various paramours. You’d made sure the bar in his office was always stacked with his favorite bourbon, and most importantly: you’d made sure to be seen and not heard. It’s what he told you, in the job interview, that he wanted.

You had thought you were doing a good job, but clearly, Mr. Cooper had been laboring under a different impression…

Your day had started like every other day – normal. You’d arrived at work fifteen minutes before Mr. Cooper, like always. Dutifully greeting him with a sweet “Good morning, sir!” at your desk, and served him his morning coffee minutes later. The day continued like normal, occupied with calls and speaking to clients, you had no idea what shocking message you’d receive at the end of your day.

Outside the club, you gave Deborah a meek smile which faded when you saw the line snaking its way down the street, “Sure, but… we’ll never get in.”

“Get down tonight, get down tonight,”

The words of KC And The Sunshine Band traveled through the open club door, the music filled the warm summer air.

“Don’t worry, babes!” she beamed, “I know the owner.” With an overdramatic wink and a giggle, she pulled you towards the bouncer.

“Baby, baby, I'll meet you, same place, same time,”

“How exactly do you know the owner of this place?” you queried, as you passed through the door of the club while the music got louder and louder.

“Where we can get together, and ease up our mind,”

“Let’s just say we had a weekend together…,” she giggled, “and I got to know him very… intimately.”

Your eyes widened at her implications, and Deborah giggled even louder.

“Don’t look so surprised!” she laughed, “I’m all about free love,” she joked, putting up a peace sign.

A heat burned your cheeks. Still, after three years in LA you needed to constantly remind yourself that you weren’t in your small rural hometown anymore. No one was going to arrest you for talking about sex. Nevertheless, the habit was hard to shake, and the roots of the rules you’d grown up with – the ones that had taught you to be the perfect student and the perfect daughter – stayed embedded in your mind.

“So…” Deborah started, her back against the bar while she took her first sip of her Apple Martini. She’d ordered you some fruity cocktail you’d never had before that she swore you’d like. “What exactly did that sad excuse of a man say to you when he fired you?”

With a scrunch of your nose, you turned your attention to your drink, taking a sip. It tasted sugary, but fresh, one of those dangerous drinks where you couldn’t taste the alcohol.

“Let’s not talk about it?” you sighed, shooting Deborah another meek smile.

She returned your smile, but it was full of pity. “You’re right! Let’s not– Let’s forget that fucker,” she said, taking a generous sip of her drink, “you’ll easily get a new job! I know it!” she smiled.

Not soon after Deborah had finished her first drink, a man interrupted your conversation. The man was tall, with black wild hair, pork chops and a matching mustache. He was wearing a flower-patterned shirt tucked into a pair of brown bell-bottoms. The top buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned, revealing dark chest hair and a gold chain. He wasn’t bad looking.

His hand on Deborah’s back didn’t seem to bother her, quite the opposite, she jumped excitedly, throwing her hands around his neck in greeting. You couldn’t hear what he whispered in her ear over the music, but it made her laugh.

“This is Tommy! He owns the club,” Deborah introduced you.

With a friendly smile, you shook Tommy’s hand and introduced yourself. His grip was firm, not like those people that made shaking their hand feel like gripping a dead fish. You decided that it was a good sign.

“So– are ya enjoyin’ yourselves, ladies?” he asked with a charming smile.

“Oh, yes!” Deborah smiled, her painted nails landing on his bicep, “But I think we’d enjoy ourselves even more after another drink.”

With a knowing smile and an easy laugh, Tommy ushered the bartender closer. “’nother round for these two beautiful ladies,” he ordered, “and… they’re drinkin’ on the house for the rest of the night,” he added, sending Deborah a wink.

The bartender served you your second drink just as Tommy convinced Deborah to dance with him. Quickly, she downed her Apple Martini before she turned to you, guilt written all over her face.

“You okay by yourself for a little bit?”

“Yeah– sure!” you nodded, “Go have fun!”

With a sorry smile and a promise to be right back, Deborah left you at the bar, dragged out on the dancefloor by Tommy.

Left to your own devices, you still felt a little awkward. This was supposed to be a girls night. Pushing off the bar, you turned to lean your back against it. You bopped your head to the music, trying to not look so out of place. In your hands, your drink was slippery from the condensation around the glass. Out on the dancefloor, the crowd looked like it moved in slow motion through the blinking lights, bodies twisting their hips and grooving to the beat. You took another sip.

It’s a strange feeling, feeling so alone, while surrounded by a crowd of people. To your, a couple gazed lovingly into each other’s eyes as they passed a cigarette back and forth, a ribbon of smoky white, clouded them in a love fog. They leaned closer, sharing a kiss. You quickly averted your eyes, desperate for something else to rest your eyes on.

Instead, they fell on a man.

You locked eyes with him from across the room. Clad in tight denim he sat casually in a booth in the corner, legs spread slightly. His hand was wrapped around a whisky glass, with a cigarette pinched between his fingers. With a shy smile, you quickly looked away again, eyes back to watching the bodies on the dancefloor. You took another sip of your drink, trying to act casual.

He wasn’t watching you, was he? Why would he? No one usually looked at you twice.

You were no good at this. Flirting. You were painfully awful at it to be completely honest. Too shy to be sexy, and never interesting enough, or pretty enough for a second date.

Your experience with dating didn’t really go further than the few dates you’d gone on with John, from accounting. He’d acted so sweet: opened doors for you, held out your chair, kissed you at your doorstep at the end of the night. He had been a dream. Then on your third date, he’d invited you back to his place for a nightcap. One thing led to another, and soon you were laying under him as he thrusted inside you. It was your first time – and he hadn’t known. It had hurt so much; you’d turned your face away so he wouldn’t see your tears. After, he’d called you a cab, not bothering to even kiss you goodbye. In the office the next day, he’d pretended like you’d never even existed: no more tender kisses, no more door opening, no more smiles. Your dream had turned into a nightmare.

He’d pulled you aside during lunch and told you it wouldn’t work out between the two of you. You were just such different people. You’d deflated like a balloon at his words, sinking into your chair as you watched him walk down the corridor back to his cubicle. To make matters worse you’d overheard him say, to some of his colleges by the watercooler, how awful in bed you’d been. It had been humiliating. And now, every time you as much as attempted to flirt with someone, a bell of shame rang in your ears.

The man couldn’t have looked at you. He’d for sure only looked in the direction of the bar. But something burned your cheek, and you couldn’t fight your eyes from trailing back in his direction.

Dark hair and a tidy mustache. Lips pulled up into a cheeky smile as you locked eyes with him again. He took a drag of his cigarette, and the fire lit up his handsome face. You felt something pool in your stomach. His gaze still on you as he exhaled, challenging you with a raised eyebrow. Again, your cheeks burned, and you had to look away. Suddenly, your own platform shoes looked extremely interesting.

“I remember when rock was young, me and Susie had so much fun,”

The sound of Elton John was the perfect distraction from the alluring stranger. You were sure that if you looked back at him again, you’d only embarrass yourself. You always did. Slurping up the rest of your drink, you pushed off the bar, and headed towards the dancefloor.

“Holding hands and skimming stones. Had an old gold Chevy, and a place of my own,”

Moving your hips to the beat you vanished in the bodies. And soon you were “hopping and bopping” to the Crocodile Rock, singing loudly along with the crowd to “Laa, la-la-la-la-laa”.

The air was clammy and stuffy, and sweat clung to your skin, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to care. You were here to leave your shitty day behind. To dance it away. You moved through the crowd; a smile bright on your face while your feet couldn’t stay still. The handsome stranger in the booth, already forgotten.

As the song faded out, a new song faded in. It was slower. A slightly erotic, but melodic guitar filled the room, accompanied by a luring salsa rhythm. You slowed down your dancing. It felt like you were threading through water.

“Ain't got nobody that I can depend on. Ain't got nobody that I can depend on,”

A pair of hands landed on your hips, making you jump. Behind you, you heard the deep chuckle of a man.

“Relax, darlin’,” he whispered in your ear, moving your hips in time with his.

You leaned back against his body; head tipped back against his broad chest to get a look at the man. Your stranger from the booth. He wore a cocky smirk, but he didn’t come across as full of himself. He was confident. Confident in the way he held your body – big hands splayed over your hips. Confident in the way he danced, like he knew exactly what he was doing, and he did.

“Ain't got no one (no tengo a nadie). That I know of (no tengo a nadie). That I can depend on (no tengo a nadie),”

You let him move your body, turning you around to take your hand in his, pulling you closer to his chest. He smelled like cigarettes and cologne. He’d been watching you, you realized, not the bar. Interested enough in you to follow you out on the dancefloor. It intimidated you, but under the intimidation it also excited you.

He led your movements. You were no dancer, but he made it so easy, spinning you around with ease before pulling you back towards his body. The eye contact was intense, like he was searching for your soul. Santana’s wailing guitar and the stranger’s hand at your waist was the only thing grounding you to the moment.

“I ain't got nobody, that I can depend on (no tengo a nadie),”

The song reached its climactic end. The man spun you one last time before he pulled you tight against his chest. It was like the song’s ending had broken a spell over the two of you, the air of sensuality was gone, and replaced by his genuine smile and breathy laugh.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked you over the funky bassline of Eagles’ One of These Nights.

Wide-eyed, “Please,” was the only thing you could utter.

With a hand resting at the small of your back he led you through the crowd towards the bar, where he got the bartender’s attention immediately. 

“An Old Fashioned for me Doug, and…” he looked towards you with a smile.

“Um… a Tequila Sunrise?” you said with a shy smile.

“A Tequila Sunrise, for this beautiful lady,” he told the bartender.

Grabbing one of the bar stools he sat down and gestured for you to do the same. You’d just about sat down before he leaned forward, grabbed a hold of your stool, and pulled you closer to him. A squeal escaped you before it turned into a giddy laugh.

“Thank you, Doug!” he told the bartender when he returned with your drinks.

“On a first name basis with the bartender– you here often?” you asked him, taking a sip of your drink.

“Not as often as I’d liked– it’s my lil’ brother’s club,” he told you, taking a sip of his own drink.

“You’re Tommy’s brother?” you wondered with a frown, a little shocked.

“You know Tommy?” he asked, equally shocked.

You shrugged, “Yes– well… not really.”

He took another sip of his drink, eyes urging you to go on.

“I met him earlier– he’s… well,” you didn’t know how to explain it, “I’m here with my friend Deborah, and I guess her and Tommy are…” you trailed off.

“Fuckin’?” he finished for you, grin wide on his face.

You only nodded, swallowing down another sip of your drink.

“Yeah, I’ve heard all about Deborah…” he trailed off with a look on his face like he knew a secret, “… but nothing about her beautiful friend.”

You huffed out a laugh and turned your head, heat traveling up your neck to your cheeks, “I’m not sure there’s much to know.”

“How about your name?” he suggested.

You turned back to look at him, really look at him.

Had Deborah set him up for this?

You wouldn’t put it past her if she had. She was always urging you to go out with her. To clubs, to parties in The Hills, on double dates. You wanted to go, you really did, but a voice in the back of your head always held you back. You’d thought moving to LA would be the remedy. All alone in a big city would surely help you come out of your shell, right? The harsh reality had been that LA hadn’t magically fixed you. You’d thought you’d be a completely different person here, but you’d packed your insecurities in your baggage. The only person who was gonna help you out of your shell, you’d started to realize… was you.

Putting on a brave face, disguised as a friendly smile, you gave him your name. The man was silent for a moment, nodding as he brought his lips to the rim of his glass again, taking another sip of his drink. It made you hold your breath.

“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he said eventually with an easy grin. His compliment sent a warmth to your cheeks, while you fought an urge to squinch your face with embarrassment.

After a second of silence, you raised a brave eyebrow at him, “What about your name? Or shall I just call you Tommy’s brother?”

He chuckled lightly, eyes glinting, before he cleared his throat, “Name’s Joel.”

“Joel,” you repeated with a nod, making his cocky smile wider. Tasting his name on your tongue, you decided it sounded pleasant on your lips.

“So– you’re Deb’s friend?” Joel started, to which you confirmed with a nod. “How come she’s never brought you ‘round before?” he wondered with a sip of his drink.

You gave him a relaxed shrug, “I’m not much of a drinker– if I’m honest.”

He leaned forward, like he was about to whisper a secret to you, “You are aware of the fact that you’re in a club, aren’t you?” he teased.

Your mouth dropped open before you playfully rolled your eyes at him, “Shut up,” you said, “I’m not usually much of a drinker… at least not without good reason.”

“So, what’s the good reason?” Joel asked, raising a single eyebrow, “Boyfriend dumped ya?”

“Boss dumped me, actually…” you corrected, “I got fired.”

Joel sucked some air between his teeth, “Ouch… you better get another drink, then.” He turned his body towards the bar to casually raise a hand, getting the attention of Doug.

You let out a scoffing laugh, shaking your head at his teasing tone, “Maybe I will.”

As you finish your Tequila Sunrise, Joel ordered you another one, and one for himself. You felt hot to the touch. The alcohol coursed through your body like liquid courage, it traveled through your bloodstream, greasing the part of yourself where your confidence laid dormant.

“What did you work as?” he asked, sipping his own Tequila Sunrise.

“I am–was…” you corrected, “a personal assistant.”

“A good one?” Joel wondered.

Taking a large sip of your drink, you tried to swallow down your failure.

“You’d have to ask my boss,” you breathed out.

“The one that fired ya?” he returned with a cocky smile, and you fought an urge to roll your eyes.

Sitting up a little straighter you narrowed your eyes at him, “What do you do, then? If you’re so good at your job?”

“Never said I was good at it,” he shrugged, cocky grin not going anywhere.

“You gonna make me ask you again?” you deadpanned, your shyness shedding with every sip of your drink.

Joel looked amused, like he was in on a secret only he knew. You continued to stare at him, raising a challenging eyebrow at his continued silence.

“I’m an actor,” he confessed.

You couldn’t hide the impressed look that crossed your face. Sure, you’d been in LA for three years, he wasn’t the first actor you’d met, and he for sure wouldn’t be the last, but it was something about the way he said it.

“A good one?” you used his own words against him, making him chuckle.

He took another sip of his drink, “I’d like to think so,” he smiled, looking at you over the rim of his glass.

“Anything I’d know?” you wondered, watching him put his glass down.

The corners of his mouth twitched into what looked like an ironic smirk, “God, I kinda of hope not,” he said, eyes trailing the scratches and dents in the dark wood of the bar.

You both went quiet, as you sipped your drinks. You’d started to wonder if you’d maybe said something wrong, when Joel cleared his throat.

“Not to mix business with pleasure–” he started, turning towards you, mouth twitching again at the innuendo, “but I happen to be looking for an assistant.”

“Oh, really?” you deadpanned, convinced he was pulling your leg.

“You don’t believe me?” he breathed out a chuckle.

“Let’s see: a strange man dances with me in a club,” you held up a finger, “then buys me a drink, then offers me a job? I may not be from around here, but I’m not stupid enough to believe that one.” You laughed with a shake of your head.

As you laughed, it hit you how easily you found it to jest with Joel. Usually, you were the quiet one. The one observing or just listening, always too shy to joke freely, especially with people you didn’t know, but somehow, in this moment you felt free. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was getting fired. Or maybe… it was Joel.

“Well, believe it or not, I ain’t fibbin’… it really depends on how much you need a job,” he took another sip of his drink.

“I just got fired,” you said matter of factly.

Joel gave you an infuriatingly innocent shrug, “Then you better start believing me when I say I’m looking for an assistant.”

You couldn’t do anything other than scoff in disbelief. “So what?” you asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow, “You’re just gonna offer me a job after knowing me for barely an hour? No interview or nothing?”

“Do I need to be interviewin’ ya?” he wondered innocently.

“It’s a job!” you spluttered, “You always interview people before you give them a job!”

He gave you a nonchalant shrug. “Then I guess I will… so what can you tell me about yourself? What makes you a good assistant?” he asked, tone genuine as he placed an elbow on the bar counter and rested his head in his hand.

“I don’t mean now!” you let out in a nervous squeak, and Joel seemed to enjoy the way you shifted nervously in your seat.

He shrugged, “Alright then… you got time for coffee? Say… tomorrow mornin’?”

Ten to ten the next morning you met Joel for coffee.

Wanting to give him a good and professional impression – he could be your new employer after all ­­– you’d worn your brown three pieced suit with a purple paisley shirt under your suit vest. It made you feel strong– well usually, right now you couldn’t seem to shake the pre-interview nerves… Anyway, you were hoping your outfit would make Joel think you had your shit together – at least put together enough for him to hire you.

With eyes scanning the café, you found him at a table by the window, smoking a cigarette. When you approached him, heels clicking against the hardwood floor, he checked his watch.

“Ten minutes early!” he remarked with a grin.

“Reliability and punctuality are good qualities in a new employee, I’ve heard.” You shot him a shy smile before you placed your bag on the floor by your chair.

He hummed, watching you with an easy smile as you sat down opposite him while shedding your jacket. The white smoke danced in front of his face like coiling ribbons. Clad in a striped polo with a Johnny collar he’d tucked into a pair of Levi’s jeans, he relaxed in his chair, shifting slightly, and spreading his legs wider. The movement, like a reflex, drew your eyes to his lower half. His Levi’s were tight, held in place by a big western belt buckle, but it wasn’t his belt buckle that caught your attention.

“So…” he started. His voice startled you, and you flicked your eyes back to his face. His playful smile told you he’s caught you checking him out. Embarrassed, you looked past him, not daring to make eye contact as you fought the urge to cringe.

“How are ya?” he took another drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out the side of his mouth.

“I’m–I’m good thank you,” you gave him a nervous smile, the confidence from last night gone with the rise of the sun, “how are you?”

“I’m good too, sweetheart,” he nodded, “wanna have this interview…? Or should I just tell you now you’re hired?”

Perplexed, your eyebrows met in a furrow, “What do you mean?”

“Honey, I already decided last night I’d hire you,” he grinned with another drag of his cigarette.

“I–… I mean are you sure?” you stuttered, “I brought my resume and references and everything– don’t you want to take a look at them?” you wondered, a hand dropping to your bag to fish out your newly typed resume and references. You tapped the papers against the table before placing them neatly in front of him.

Retracting your hands, you rested them in your lap, while you watched him. He placed his cigarette in his mouth before he picked up your resume. His eyes scanned the paper, his head nodding slightly.

“Graduated high school in 1970… A year as a cashier at Piggly Wiggly…” he started listing, his cigarette dipping with each word, “A year at Greasy Motors?”.

“Um– yes!” you peeped, “It’s my uncle’s garage shop– I worked as their secretary,” you told him, picking at the skin around your nails.

“You any good with cars?” he asked, one eyebrow raised as he took one last drag of his cigarette.

“No–No not really… I just spoke to the customers, answered the phone and stuff like that.”

You’d wanted to learn some of the basics, but you’d quickly given up. None of the guys had taken you seriously, and they had made sure to let you know where your place was – it was not with your hands deep in an engine.

Joel hummed at your answer and stubbed out his cigarette. “And Mr. Cooper’s the one that fired ya?” he asked.

You gave him a short nod. Your pointer finger burned with pain as you pulled at a piece of skin you’d picked loose around your nail.

“Why?”,

“The honest answer?” you sighed, and he nodded.

“I don’t know,” you told him, “he just called me into his office at the end of the day and told me he was gonna have to let me go– I was honestly too shocked to ask him why.”

“Oof,” Joel frowned.

“Yeah,” you sighed, you didn’t know what else to say.

“Well… you’ve given me a great impression, both last night and right now, so you’ve got the job, sweetheart– if you want it.” He leaned back in his chair, letting your resume fall from his hands.

“It can’t be that easy, can it?” the words fell from your lips before you had time to think. Joel raised a curious eyebrow at you. “I mean what’s the catch?”

“There’s no catch.”

He seemed to think about it for a beat, “Unless there is…” Joel’s lips tugged at the corners as he leaned over the table, “Remember I said I was an actor?” he asked, eyes boring into yours.

You gave him a skeptical nod.

“I’m an adult actor…” he lowered his voice, “You understand?” he asked before he leaned back in his seat again.

An adult actor. Your eyes widened with realization.

“Wait… you mean,” you looked around you before you leaned forward over the table like he’d just done, “you’re a pornstar?” you whispered, feeling your cheeks start to burn with embarrassment.

“Is that a problem for you?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Was it? Was it a problem for you?

The question tugged at the back of your neck. Tugged on your childhood, on your upbringing. You’d escaped; had your own apartment now, made your own money. You were trying to come into your own, to finally be your own person.

With teeth digging into your bottom lip, you looked at Joel. He watched you expectantly, head tipping slightly to the right as he studied you. There was no malice in his eyes, and nothing about him seemed grimy or obscene… Nothing about him screamed pornstar. If someone like him could do something so… unusual, for a job, maybe wasn’t so bad.

“No,” you decided, “it’s not a problem.”

“Groovy!” he grinned, “I’ll have my manager draw up a contract for you.”

And just like that you were officially Joel Miller’s, aka the infamous Joel Packer, personal assistant.

Joel sat on the tiled steps outside his house, smoking a cigarette, when you pulled up to the curb. He perked up when he saw you, grabbing his worn leather duffel bag before he waltzed down his driveway.

“Cab for Miller?” you joked through the rolled down window, ducking your head to peek up at him.

He chuckled at your joke, pinching his cigarette between two fingers for one last drag, before putting it out with a twist of his shoe. The smog laid low over LA this morning, like a blanket. It was gonna be a long day, and a long drive.

Letting out a small grunt, Joel got in your car. The smell of cigarettes and cologne – the smell of him – filled the space between you. He twisted around tossing his duffel bag into the backseat, and your eyes couldn’t help but land on his bicep, watching the way his muscles flexed under the weight. You felt a sudden urge to roll down the window a little further.

When he turned back around, the smooth wood of your steering wheel looked extremely interesting.

“Thanks for drivin’, sweetheart. My car’s still in the shop for ‘nother few days.”

The corner of your mouth twisted into a small smile, “No problem, Joel.”

“Are we all set?” he breathed out his question before his hands landed on his thighs with a dull smack!

“Um, yes, it’s just…” you turned to look at him. He was dressed casually in jeans and a Steely Dan concert tee – All-American Tour ’74 – with his yellow tinted pilot sunglasses tucked into his neckline.

“Just what, sweetheart?”,

“I picked up a package for you– it’s in the backseat,” you cocked your head in the direction.

“What is it?” he twisted back around, one hand searching for the cardboard box behind his seat.

Even in the smoldering LA heat, you couldn’t help but feel your cheeks heat up. “Um… it’s your package.”

“Yeah, I got that, honey– but what is it?” he asked again, twisting his hand back and placing the cardboard box in his lap.

You let out a small whine, “Don’t make me say it Joel– it’s your package.” You gestured a hand over your nether region.

Joel looked at you with a mischievous smile spreading across his face, “Oh, now I really wanna hear you say it,” he teased, hooking his finger under the tape.

“It’syourdick,” you said quickly, “–the dildo.”

In another step towards furthering Joel Packer’s success, he’d been asked to model for a sextoy. It’s no surprise he’d been asked. With the women’s liberation movement gaining more and more followers every day, more women had been exploring their own sexuality. Joel was popular with both men and women. He was like a chameleon when it came to porn. He knew just what to give, whether that would be hardcore porn, tossing his scene partners around and making them come until they couldn’t anymore; or doing full frontal nudity for a centerfold for Playgirl. 

With a drag of the tape, Joel laughed, his shoulders shaking. “I can’t believe you’re still shy about that stuff, sweetheart. You’ve been workin’ for me for how long now, huh? And you still can’t say dick to my face– what do you say to my business partners? Wiener?”

“I’m not shy,” you denied rather unconvincingly, making him shoot you an unimpressed look making you flutter. “I don’t know… it’s just different saying it to you!”

“Why?” he asked, pulling out the box with the dildo he’d modeled for.

Your eyes followed his hands, running over the pink packaging, the handsome photo they’d used of him on the front.

“I-I don’t know… it just is.”

A smile tugged on the corners of his mouth as he hummed – not convinced. Instead, he opened the box, pulling out the sextoy. The company had sent him one before they’d hit the shelves at the end of the month. They were being advertised in Playgirl first – to build up the hype. The sextoy looked exactly like him, and at the same time, nothing like him. The size and shape were true to life (8 inches like they’d advertised on the box), but the color was wrong.

“This is so fuckin’ weird,” he laughed, turning it in his hand, “’s this what I look like?”

“The color looks wrong,” you pointed out. He looked over at you for a beat and then back to the sextoy.

“’s a little… plastic-y,” he commented, “and weird lookin’ without the balls…”

He put the dildo back in the box before he handed it to you. You shook your head and turned the car key, “Just put it back in the backseat.”

“No, ‘s not what I meant,” he nudged your arm with the box, “you have it.”

You were glad the car stood still because the shock of his words would’ve made you get in a car accident.

“Why?” you said, a little flustered.

“Exactly what do women do with a dildo, I wonder?” he teased, nudging your arm again.

“No, Joel, that’s just weird– you’re my boss.” You nudged him back before you put the car in drive.

“You prefer the real thing, then?” a teasing lilt still wrapped around his words.

“Shut up,” you huffed, focusing on driving instead.

“I’m just messin’, sweetheart!” he laughed and threw the box messily behind him.

Leaning forward, Joel pushed the play button on your car radio. The cassette deck whirled before a twangy sound of piano filled your car as you started cruising down the road. A few seconds later Joni Mitchell sang the opening lines of the title track ‘Court and Spark’.

“I need you in charge of the map,” you broke the silence between you after a few minutes, “I don’t know where the house is.”

He opened your glove compartment, pulling out your map of California. You focused on the road while he studied the map.

“Looks like we need to get on the 101– it should take about three hours, Ronald said.”

You hummed. Ronald was Joel’s manager. He’d represented Joel for as long as Joel’s been in porn. Ronald was sleazy, and gross, and you tried to only be in his presence when it was absolutely necessary. Unfortunately, for you, Ronald was a good manager, and the reason why Joel Packer was as popular a pornstar as he was.

“When we get to Pismo Beach we’ll just stop and ask around for the address.” Joel said, folding the map.

Usually, Ronald was the one who came along to set with Joel. His reasoning being that there was business to attend to, and that he was supportive of his client, but you knew the real (pervy) reason. You on the other hand had only come along to set a few times. Quick to embarrassment, you’d quickly hid yourself away in Joel’s dressing room, claiming you had work you’d neglected to do.

This time, Ronald couldn’t make it because of scheduling conflicts. Joel was gonna go alone, but then his car had broken down on the 405. He needed a ride, and who else to ask other than the person he paid to help him out. The shoot was taking place at a beach house somewhere in Pismo Beach. You’d never been to Pismo Beach before, and neither had Joel. The booking agent had told you it was nice enough and secluded. Perfect for shooting a porno without bringing too much attention. 

Three hours later, you and Joel arrived at the shoot. The beach house was busy and filled with people working like ants to get the film set ready. The shoot was scheduled to last for one day, and as the time flew past 10am, you were starting to get short on time.

As soon as you stepped inside, they ushered Joel straight to make-up and wardrobe. Careful not to be in anybody’s way, you took a look around the house. It was beautiful. Newly built, not more than ten years old you guessed, and right on the beach. Warm wood tones lined the walls and floors, and on the ceilings, sturdy beams met in the middle. A leather couch with matching chairs was turned towards the big floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the beach, and a cowhide rug decorated the floor. They’d set up a step ladder by the windows, all ready for the first scene.

You found Joel a moment later in one of the bedrooms sitting, in a chair as he got his make-up done. You noticed he’d already changed into his costume. A pair of overalls with nothing underneath, and a toolbelt hanging from his hips.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he greeted, his eyes trailing your body.

“Hi,” you smiled, “How you feeling? Can I get you anything?”

He looked at you, a pregnant pause passing between the two of you, “No, not right now.”

“Oh, okay!” you nodded, teeth catching your bottom lip, “Just let me know if there’s anything.”

You moved over to the bed where his clothes were spewed across the bedding. Trying to make yourself useful, you picked them up to fold them.

“D’you know if Tess is ready?” you heard him ask.

Tess was Joel’s scene partner for the day, and also his most frequent scene partner. They’d been in more films together over the past years than you could count, their chemistry always electric. Everything they did was just hot, and this time would be no exception. Tess was playing a neglected housewife all alone in her big beach house until carpenter Joel arrived to help her feel less alone with his tool(s).

“Um, no… I haven’t seen her at all– but I can go find out if you want?” you said, placing his folded t-shirt neatly on the bed.

“No, bless your heart, it’s okay,” he spoke slowly, watching the make-up artist pack up her things before telling him he’s all set.

Left alone with Joel he spoke again, “You gonna watch today?”

His question kicked your heart into gear, stuttering along like a teenager who can’t drive stick. “I-I don’t know yet,” you folded his jeans, “… do you want me to?”

You felt him move closer, but he didn’t answer you. Gathering your courage, you met his eyes. He was watching you with a soft look in his eye, a look he’d sent you more and more often lately.

Grabbing your wrist, his calloused fingers like a warm bracelet, he took his jeans from your hand and placed them down next to his t-shirt.

“I’d like that.”

He said it with a smile, and you couldn’t do anything other than nod.

Joel had started to make you feel lots of things lately. Warm fuzzy feelings bubbled under your skin, just like the warmth from his hand on your wrist right now. Joel was a flirt, cocky and confident. Your complete opposite. You weren’t as shy as you’d been at the start of your job, but you couldn’t help but still be shy around Joel sometimes. Especially when he smiled at you the way he was right now, or when you felt his touch on your body.

The first scene they shot was the intro. A cheesy scene where Joel got invited into Tess the housewife’s home. One too many innuendos about ‘tools’ later, you’d slipped away before lunch time to find the catering table, fixing up a plate for Joel and one for yourself. After lunch, the fun began as the director had said. 

“Hey, sweetheart?” Joel’s fingers brushed over the back of your arm, getting your attention. You were about to go sit in his director’s chair, to watch as you’d promised.

“Yeah, Joel?” you looked at him through your lashes, your face curious. You tried very hard to keep them on his face, and not to let them wander to the outline of his hard cock through his overalls.

“Could you go get me some lube?” he asked you, eyes pleading.

“Oh! Um–” you nervously perked up, “Yes, of course,” you nodded, turning around yourself on the spot like you were already on the lookout.

“Thanks!” His hand landed on your shoulder, turning you to focus back on him, fingers rubbed over the material of your shirt. He was smiling at you, a small glint in his eye as he took you in. It made something inside you flutter, your eyes eclipsing over.

“OK guys! Quiet on set!” the director called, pulling you and Joel from your moment. His hand fell from your shoulder, a sorry smile draped across his face.

Slipping away, you went on a hunt for lube. When you came back you were met with the deep grunts of Joel as he got his cock sucked. He was fully naked, standing at the edge of the bed with Tess naked and dutifully on her knees for him – pleasuring him to heaven by the looks of it.

“There you go, baby,” he praised Tess, his big hand entangled in her hair as he pushed himself deeper down her throat. “You like sucking cock, don’t you? Like cheating on your husband like the dirty fuckin’ whore you are, huh?”

You knew he was just reading off his lines, but he said them like he hadn’t practiced at all, it was all so natural. Stumbling backwards towards his director’s chair, you sat down. You felt drawn to the scene before you, caught up in the moment, in the sounds of Joel’s moans and Tess’ spluttering around his cock. Never had you allowed yourself to watch him this openly before – it sent an electric pulse to your core.

Tess gave him head for a few minutes more, filth and praises fell from Joel’s mouth as the cameraman dutifully got every angle. Mesmerized by the scene playing out before you, a small pit started to form in your stomach – a mixture of pleasure and… jealousy. You shifted in the chair at the thought of you on your knees for him instead, pleasuring him and pulling those moans from his lips. Wondering if the praising words he told Tess, would sound different if it was you he told them to instead. You didn’t realize how caught up in the sight in front of you until you heard someone call your name.

It was Joel.

Shaking yourself from your fantasy daydreaming, you pulled yourself together. They’d changed positions while the cameraman changed the film. Joel was now sat on his knees on the bed with his cock standing to attention. On her back, he had Tess’ legs parted and splayed open in front of him.

Why was he talking to you?

He called your name again, figuring you hadn’t heard him over the humming of conversation now filling up the set. You hopped off the chair and nervously scurried over to him.

“What’s up?” you whispered. Your eyes were glued to his face, not daring to glide them even an inch downwards.

He hooked his fingers around your thumb. On his face he was wearing the widest grin, “Could you grab me some water?”

His touch sent your brain into overdrive, your eyes blinking around his question, “Y-yes– I’ll be right back.” His touch fell, and you scurried away to find him some water before they started filming again.

Back, and with a bottle of water in your hand you allowed yourself one quick look at his naked body. His broad chest, the way his muscles moved underneath his tan skin. Your eyes raked over his body, down his stomach, trailing the happy trial down to his impressive cock.

“Okay, everybody– we’re all set!” The loud voice of the director made you jump. Joel handed back the bottled water, a rough hand wiping the corner of his mouth.

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

If he’d clocked you checking him out, he didn’t show it. Instead, he got ready while you made your way back to his director’s chair. Tess said something you couldn’t quite catch, but it got his attention. He grinned from ear to ear, a quick look in your direction, before he playfully shook his head at her.

The next scene had you squirming in your seat.

With his head between her legs, Joel used both his mouth and fingers to pleasure her – and Tess was clearly enjoying herself. Her hands were digging into his hair, pushing him greedily down onto her pussy. High pitched, pornographic moans and whimpers escaped her. Joel was clearly enjoying himself too, moaning and groaning into her pussy as he ate her out greedily, making sure to pull every ounce of pleasure from her.

Tess came with a cry, withering breathlessly as she squirmed in Joel’s hold. He held her shaking legs in a tight grip, not letting up his licking and sucking until he’d pulled another orgasm from her. With a breathless laugh she pushed him away, big wide smile spreading as he peppered kisses to the inside of her thigh. You shifted slightly in your seat. An unmistakable wetness had gathered in your panties. You crossed your leg over the other, subtly.

With a tap to her thigh Joel encouraged Tess to turn over. He sat up, resting back on his heels as he stroked his cock languidly. Tess moved onto all fours, arching her back and putting herself on display for him. The camera moved in closer, a watchful eye, as Joel ran a finger through her folds.

“So wet for me, baby,” he said, replacing his fingers with the head of his cock. “This pussy’s been neglected, hasn’t it? ‘s just dying to be fucked.”

He thrusted inside her, burying himself in her pussy, moans and groans falling from both their lips. You felt the air stand still for a beat, before he pulled back and thrusted back inside. They quickly built up a rhythm, skin slap slap slapping, as their moans held the tune. They moved in sync. Joel kept up the pace, hands holding her waist firmly, while Tess met them with a breathy moan. When she gripped the sheets in pleasure, you wondered if it really felt as good as she let on, or if it was all just part of the show.

“Face the camera,” the director interrupted suddenly. He wanted a close up of Tess getting fucked.

Joel slipped out of her, the bright lights catching on his glistening cock. The sight of Tess’ arousal reminded you, and the bottle of lube in your lap, about your insignificancy. Joel quickly slipped back inside Tess, a hand gripping her shoulder as he picked up the pace again.

“Just like that, baby, you feel so fuckin’ good around my cock.”

You felt silly, the reality of what you’d just done settling in. Why on earth would you agree to watch Joel? Pornstar or not, he’s still your boss. Your longing for him to be something else, would never erase that fact.

Disappointment was a heavy rope tying you down. You needed to get out of there before you hurt your own feelings. Sliding out of the chair, you left the bottle of lube. Straightening out your suede skirt, let out a quiet sigh. You didn’t want to look at him, but something drew you to him either way.

You locked eyes immediately, his eyes were dark and intense. He picked up the pace, Tess almost screaming with pleasure underneath him, but his eyes still didn’t leave yours. You couldn’t look away. The world narrowed until the only thing you could see was him.

With a grunt and a firm thrust, Joel came inside her, mouth parted in pleasure and eyes never leaving yours.

Squeezed into a flimsy plastic chair, feet planted steadily in front of him, Joel sat smoking a cigarette by the pool. Ripples of blue swam across his face, before giving way to the soft warmth of the burning cigarette. He looked deep in thought as you got out of your car, a plastic bag of take-out swinging from your hand. You slammed the door shut, jolting Joel from his thoughts. The evening wind softly kissed your bare arms as you walked across the parking lot to the fenced in pool area.

The shoot had run long and by the time it was over, it was late. Joel was tired, and when he’d suggested you stay at a motel for the night, you’d been quick to agree. Watching the darkening sky, you’d started to dread the three-hour drive back to LA – you’d rather wait for daylight.

Situated right off the main road Joel had spotted a Motel 6 with the neon ‘Vacancy’ light humming. With tired steps you’d walked together towards the lobby, and the lady at the desk didn’t look up from her magazine when you and Joel approached. Behind her, coming through the door to the back office, you heard a laugh track.

Joel turned on his southern charm, “’Scuse me, ma’am.”

The receptionist still didn’t look up from her magazine.

“Do y’all have two rooms vacant?”

With a sigh, the woman looked up at him, peering over her glasses. “We only have one Queen left.” She smacked her lips together obnoxiously as she spoke, a piece of gum visible in her teeth.

Joel looked over at you, one eyebrow raised. Crossing your arms over your chest, you didn’t know what to say. If they only had one room, they only had one room. You tapped your foot restlessly, made a face like you were thinking it over before you gave Joel a short but affirmative nod. He watched you for another beat, before he turned back around to say, “We’ll take it.”

The room was nothing much; a queen-sized bed in the middle of the room, two chairs and a table tucked into one corner, and a door leading to a small bathroom. First thing Joel did was find a place to put his bag. You didn’t have a bag, only your handbag, you hadn’t planned on not sleeping in your own bed tonight. Joel, on the other hand, always brought a change of clothes to set. He’d told you once he didn’t like to leave in the same clothes he’d arrived in.

As you closed in on Joel by the pool you realized he was still wearing his clothes from this morning. He’d told you he wanted to shower, so you’d gone out to get you both some dinner to give him some privacy. Now you wondered if he’d even had his shower.

“Hungry?” you asked, putting the plastic bag down on the round table beside him.

He took a deep drag of his cigarette, watching you through a cheeky smile, “Starvin’.”

“The only thing open was the roadside diner, so I’m afraid it’s greasy burgers.” 

Joel gave you a shrug as you sat down, “Works for me.”

You ate in silence – sloshing coming from the pool and the cicadas hiding in the bushes, filled the air instead. When Joel finished his burger, and started on his fries, he looked up at you.

“So, what’d you think?” he asked you. You were silent for a second, before you looked down at the burger in your hand.

“Er...” you hesitated, not sure what he wanted you to say, “It’s not bad... meat’s a little dry, but–”

Joel interrupted your train of thought with a deep chuckle.

“I meant the porno, darlin’,” he said, using one of the napkins to wipe the corners of his mouth, “not the burger.” A smile pulled at his lips.

“Oh,” you said, and felt your cheeks fire up in embarrassment. You swallowed, buying yourself some time before you gave him a shrug.

“Was good,” you said, clearing your throat awkwardly, “I’m sure your fans will love it!”

“I wasn’t askin’ about them,” Joel said. His gaze felt like it was piercing through you, “Was askin’ you, wasn’t I? Did you like it?”

Despite the desperate embarrassment firing through your veins, you raised an eyebrow. “You’re asking me about porn over dinner?”

“Fair point,” he said with a nod, “You’re deflecting, though.”

A small chuckle escaped you, a smile tugging on the corner of your mouth as you shook your head and looked away for a second.

“What do you want me to say?” you asked him, looking back at him, “It’s porn, I’m human... of course I liked it.”

Bingo.

You can see from the corners of Joel’s smile that he’s happy with that answer, and he lets out an agreeing hum.

“See?” he said, his tone teasing, “Was that so hard to admit?”

“You’re unbelievable,” you said through a small scoff, pushing your styrofoam container away from you as you fell back in your chair.

“I am–… what was your favorite part?”

He was grinning hard now. He dug a hand in his back pocket, fishing out his packet of cigarettes and his lighter. You watched him with your head tilted, waiting for him to let you off the hook like he usually did. Instead, he grinned even wider, small splutters of breathy giggles making the cigarette dip as he tried to light it.

“Gimmie that!” you commanded, reaching out your hand for his cigarette. With a surprised eyebrow he took a quick drag before he handed it over. He watched you quietly as you took a breath. Savoring the first tar-y breath filling up your lungs.

“I liked the way you…” you took another drag and exhaled through your nose, “I don’t know…” you handed him the cigarette.

“I’m waitin’,” he teased, making you playfully roll your eyes at him.

“Well,” you sighed, “I liked the way you’re so attentive and made sure she’s feeling good even though it’s acting and everything… Even when you’re like throwing her around, all in charge and stuff.” You waved away the words.

“Yeah, well, that is the most important part of sex,” he gave you a look. Suddenly, he was a little serious. “It’s not fun if she’s not havin’ fun.”

“Not every guy thinks like that, you know,” you spoke, “it’s really nice that you do.”

Joel hummed at your words before a comfortable silence fell over you. You listened to the buzzing cicadas and the burning of Joel’s cigarette every time he took a drag.

“And… the dirty talk was hot too– you’re good at that,” you mused after a moment, breaking the silence, feeling comfortable enough with Joel to tell him the truth. He doesn’t judge you about what you think was sexy, and you realized it felt nice to open up to somebody, to let your suffocating shame die.

“Now, darlin’,” you could hear the smile in his voice, “now you’re just strokin’ my ego.”

“I can stroke more than your ego.”

Joel choked on his cigarette, coughing around the smoke before he looked over at you with wide eyes. “Am I goin’ crazy, or did you just tell a dirty joke?”

Your giggle filled the air between you before you leaned forward for his cigarette again. You brought it to your mouth as you impishly shrugged. Inside, you buzzed with a fluttery feeling. 

You smiled at him. “I don’t know– you tell me.”

He playfully narrowed his eyes at you, leaning over the table to get a good look at you, “I’m not sure I’m likin’ this… where’s my sweet girl, huh?”

My sweet girl.

Your heart skipped like stones over water, and you had to look away. A smile blooming across your face. You heard him let out a sweet chuckle before he stood from his chair. The plastic feet scraping ever so slightly against the concrete. You watched him as he stepped before you, squatting down to be at eye level with you, his big hand landing on your exposed knee to steady himself.

“She’s still here,” you whispered after a moment. The cigarette between your fingers was burning out, but your whole body felt like it was on fire, a burning spreading from under his touch.

“I know she is, sweetheart,” he whispered back, his fingers rubbing gently over your skin. Joel looked at you with attentive eyes, “I love how shy you get for me.”

Before you had time to process his words, he pinched the cigarette from your fingers and stood to his feet. “Let’s call it a night?” he asked you, offering up his hand for you to take.

Feeling brave, you took his hand. It dwarfed your own, but it was strong, and warm in your hold. You watched as Joel finished off the cigarette, and stumped it out in the ashtray on the table, before gathering up your trash. You walked back to your room, hands intertwined and swinging between you. You couldn’t shake the thought of how you wished he’d kissed you.

Back inside your room he let you use the bathroom first. It was small, and the air was damp. You could see droplets of water clinging to the shower curtain. Joel did shower after all, he’d rinsed the day off into the drain. With no toiletries, you made do with what the motel offered. A bar of soap was sufficient enough to remove your make-up, but you knew your skin would punish you for it later. After brushing your teeth, you stepped back out where Joel waited for you on the bed.

“I’ve got a spare shirt if you wanna borrow it.” He held up his hand, handing you the clean cotton shirt he’d packed.

“Thanks,” you smiled shyly.

He watched you for a beat, his eyes soft, but tired. “And I’ll sleep in one of the chairs– don’t want ya worryin’ about nothin’.”

Shaking your head, you protested, “No, Joel, you’ve had a long day! I’ll sleep in the chair!”

This time he shook his head, a small chuckle escaping his mouth, “No, darlin’, you’re drivin’ tomorrow, remember? You’ll need your rest.”

Your eyebrows met in a furrow. He was right; you couldn’t do the drive back to LA tomorrow on no sleep, but you couldn’t live with yourself if he didn’t get any sleep either.

“Let’s just…” you trailed off, “You’re tired, I’m tired– let’s both sleep in the bed?” you suggested.

Crawling under the sheets clad in only your underwear and Joel’s t-shirt, you wondered if you were being unprofessional. This was technically a work trip. Joel was still your boss. You looked over at him where he sat on the edge with his back turned, fiddling with the alarm clock. Your eyes trailed over his bare back, tan and strong. You knew you could stare at him all night.

It was official: you’d left professional at the door.

Finally, the alarm clock set for tomorrow morning, Joel put it back on the nightstand. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he caught your eyes on his body. It made him smile.

“Joel? Can I ask you something?”

He got under the sheets, his foot grazing against yours as he got comfortable. “Yeah, sweetheart.”

“Can you turn off the light?”

“You needn’t ask me if you can ask me, to turn off the light,” he laughed, “you can just say ‘Joel, turn off the light’.”

You scrunched your face together. This was coming out all wrong. “No, I mean… I don’t think I can ask you my question with the lights still on.”

He looked you over with a warm smile before he leaned over and turned off the light on his nightstand. “There… what you want to ask me?”

Even bathed in darkness, you hesitated to speak. “Um… I guess…” you started, not knowing how to ask what you wanted to ask. You turned over on your back and stared at the ceiling, cursing the return of your shyness.

Joel waited for you patiently to gather your courage.

“How much… of porn, is fake?” you finally uttered.

Joel turned to his side, facing you, “What do you mean?”

“Like… when– when the girls…” You couldn’t say it.

“Come?”, he helped.

“Yeah,” you breathed out, “is that real or… like– do they actually like it?”

“Right…”

Joel thought about your question, “’s hard to say… I mean mostly it’s real– at least in my experience– like I can feel it around my cock or fingers… but everybody has off days, and not everybody can come from penetration.”

Mostly it’s real. You went quiet, silently thinking about his answer as you stared a hole in the ceiling. Not everybody can come from penetration.

“Why you askin’ me this, sweetheart?” He shifted a little closer.

You pulled your hands from under the sheets, resting them over your chest. Your thumb on your right hand found your thumb on the left where it picked at the skin.

“Huh?”

“I­– I don’t know… it’s silly.”

“No, ‘s not– you’re not silly, sweetheart.” He shifted a little closer, a reassuring hand falling over your own and stopping you from picking at your fingers.

You didn’t say anything, and you didn’t look at him either. You felt silly. You’d just complimented him earlier about how attentive he comes across in bed, and now you’re asking him if any of it was even real. 

“Can I ask you somethin’?” Joel asked, breaking the silence between you.

Nodding your head, you hummed.

“Are you a virgin?”

His question almost made you jump. Suddenly, his previously calming hands over yours felt heavy. A fire started in your cheeks. You were mortified, and it felt crazy. If you were back home right now, you’d be mortified to tell anyone you weren’t a virgin seeing as you were unmarried. Now, with Joel, you felt mortified he thought you were one.

“No,” you peeped. It would’ve sounded like a lie if it wasn’t the truth. “W-what makes you say that?” You finally looked at him, your eyes wide as saucers.

Unconvinced, he gave you a lopsided smile, “How many have you slept with?”

“How many have you slept with?” you mumbled.

“Honey, we both know that I’ve slept with way too many to count.” He said it with a teasing lilt to his voice, and a comforting rub of his thumb over the back of your hand. His small touch was enough to relax you, to bring you back from the ledge of mortification. This was Joel for god’s sake. He would never judge you; you knew that.

“One…” you whispered, “Only one person.”

With a hum, Joel shifted over to lay on his back, but his thumb still rubbed circles over your skin. “So– you’re asking me this ‘cause it was bad?” he mused.

“I don’t know… maybe,” you whispered.

“You don’t know if it was bad– or you don’t know why you’re askin’ me if women enjoy sex?”

“The latter,”

“So, it was bad,” he concluded, before he whispered, mostly to himself.

The silence was back, speaking loudly between the two of you as you both processed what the other had just said. After a beat Joel turned back on his side to face you again.

“Tell me– how bad was it?” He said it softly, a tenderness in his voice you hadn’t heard before.

“It just… it hurt.”

You sighed, and for the first time since the light went out you turned your head to look at him. “John–” your face scrunched up in a grimace as you spoke his name, like you couldn’t believe you were telling him this story. “He worked in accounting, and we were going around, you know? Went on a few dates. He was a sweet guy. After the third date we went back to his place, for a drink. He kissed me– and then we were making out, and during everything I just thought ‘This might as well happen’. I thought I wanted to lose my virginity… and I liked John– so why not. But then he just… pulled off my underwear, didn’t even touch me and… went to town.”

Joel sucked a breath through his teeth, his hand gripping yours a little tighter. “Did you– have you ever had an orgasm?”

You shifted uncomfortably under his question and turned your head back towards the ceiling again. “Yes,” you whispered.

Joel moved a little closer, and you felt your body dip towards him from his weight against the mattress. His hand resting over yours traveled down your arm, and under the sheet.

“By your own hand then,” he said it more like a statement than a question.

You felt your heart beat out of your chest, as something in the air between you shifted. Underneath the covers your body burned. Sucking in a breath, you held it for a moment before you nodded.

“Show me.”

His hand grazed over your waist, fingers dancing over the exposed skin between the hem of his t-shirt and the waistband of your panties. You reveled in it, his touch, his proximity, his gentle kiss to your shoulder. You looked at him, searched his face for any indication that he was just messing with you.

“No? Ain’t feelin’ it?” He’d watched you too, you realized.

He withdrew his hand from your waist, and you panicked, “No!”

He stopped, instead hovering his hand over your body. “No, you ain’t feelin’ it, or no, don’t stop?” he asked you.

You panicked again. “Yes!” you said before your eyebrows met in a furrow, “I-I’m sorry, this isn’t very sexy.”

Joel withdrew his hand from your body, and your disappointment sank like a rock in water, but then he cupped your jaw and you forgot to breathe.

“Forget about sexy, sweetheart,” he told you, a calloused thumb rubbing against your skin, “not that you ain’t sexy– you are, but I need you to relax, okay?”

You nodded, and a smile spread wide across his face,

“Good girl.”

You almost mewled at the praise, and he noticed, a wicked smile spreading across his face.

“You liked that, huh?” he teased, rubbing his thumb softly over your lower lip, “Y’like being a good girl for me?”

You found it hard to think with him so close, breathless when he touched you like this. You nodded slowly; moony eyes fixated on him. Like a reflex, your legs rubbed together under the sheets, aching to relieve the pressure building.

“You’re so sweet, baby­– and shy,” his voice was low, like he was afraid someone would hear him. Slowly he leaned closer, pressing the softest kiss to your neck. A quiet whimper fell from your lips.

You felt Joel’s smile against your skin, teeth nipping as he pressed kiss after kiss to your sensitive skin. “You make my cock so fuckin’ hard.”

“Joel,” you finally choked out, a wet patch already soiling your panties.

“Yes?” he took your earlobe in his mouth, gently biting down on it before letting it go. You couldn’t think – at least not about something that wasn’t Joel and his touch.

“P-please kiss me?” you tried, your hand landing on his shoulder.

His breath puffed against your skin in a small chuckle, before he lifted his face from his new home in the crook of your neck. He found your blown out face, watching you with a tenderness in his eye. A beat passed and then he leaned closer, brushing his lips over yours. Your hand on his shoulder followed his neck to cup his face, keeping him close to you. His hand pushed gently at the sheets, revealing your upper body to him. The kiss was tender and slow, your noses pressed together. He pulled you apart and then put you together again. One of his hands trailed along the hem of your – his – t-shirt where he pushed at the fabric, bunching it just below your breasts. You broke apart.

“Was that all you wanted, sweet girl? Just a kiss?” His forehead touched your own, words low and taunting. You slowly shook your head, eyes still locked with Joel’s. His hand moved methodically, trailing down your stomach until it reached…

Your breath hitched in your throat.

“No?” he asked with a teasing grin, “What do you want then, sweetheart?”.

He already knew. His open palm cupped you over your soaked panties, the breadth of it pressing firmly down on your clit. You mewled under him, hips bucking up to meet his hand.

“Nah-ah,” he lifted his head from your forehead, dark eyes boring into yours. “You need to show me.”

Joel had started a dangerous fire inside of you. It lapped at your insides, burned away your insecurities, and replaced them with lust. With a shaky hand, your hand found Joel’s. His eyes were still locked on you ­– his gaze burning your cheek and branding you his.

“There you go,” he praised, letting you guide his hand up and down your clothed cunt, feeling your arousal seep through the fabric, “good girl.”

You guided him to your clit, pressing the pads of his finger down on it in tight circles. You were so sensitive – on edge since you watched him filming earlier – a small moan fell from your lips.

“Feels good doesn’t it, baby, getting your clit rubbed.”

“Yes…” Joel drew another moan from you.

Your grip around his hand loosened, and Joel took over. With a practiced hand he circled his fingers just right. He started with a steady pace and tight circles, before he put more pressure on your aching bud. He was bringing you closer and closer to the edge, coaxing small whimpers and breathy moans from your lips as you got more and more lost in the pleasure he was giving you.

“Have you ever fingered yourself, sweetheart?” he asked you, dipping his hand beneath your panties. A bold finger ran through your folds, a finger teasing at your entrance.

Your front teeth caught your lower lip, and you had to bite down to suppress a moan. It was hard to concentrate on what he was asking you when he was touching you like that.

“Y-yes, but…” you trailed off, feeling his finger, now coated in your arousal, back on your clit. It made your brain go blank.

“But what, sweet girl?” he pulled his hand from your panties, and you whined.

A wet trail followed him up your stomach. When you made no move to answer, a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. Leaning closer he pressed a short but tender kiss to your lips; his mustache tickled your cupid’s bow.

“It’s too messy,” you said when he pulled back, shaking your head.

“Yeah? You’ve got a messy pussy, sweetheart?”

Joel leaned down again, pressing soft fluttering kisses down your throat. When he reached the collar of your shirt, he pulled at the fabric, exposing your collarbone to his kisses. Your hands found his hair, tethering you to the moment.

“Yes,” you whispered, heat burning your cheeks at the confession he pulled from you.

With a wide grin, Joel sat up. His fingers found the hem of your shirt. He helped you pull it over your head, exposing your naked chest to him. Not even a second later he was back to kissing his way down your body, worshiping you with every press. You burned under him, every kiss like a small death.

Shifting on the bed, he settled between your legs. His mustache tickled the skin on your tummy, making you giggle. You felt Joel’s smile against your skin, at the sound of your fluttering laugh. He let his lips brush over your skin, trailing downwards to the top of your panties where he pressed a kiss, teeth pulling at the small bow like you were a present to be unwrapped, before his fingers hooked around the elastic. With a lift of your hips, you let him pull off your panties. The wet spot in the center clung to your cunt, as he peeled them off.

“Fuck,” he cursed, “wanna taste you, baby, wanna taste that messy pussy.”

With his fingers back on your cunt, you jumped a little under his touch. The air filled with a slick sound of your arousal as he ran them through your folds, a finger teasing your entrance.

“Relax for me baby,” he soothed, gently pressing kisses to the soft skin of your inner thigh, “I’ll take care of you.”

Looking down at him between your legs, you let yourself go. His eyes bored into yours. Warmth and lust, and nothing but affection behind them.

You nodded, “Please.”

A wide grin blossomed across Joel’s face as he leaned down, hovering just above your clit. He ducked forward, pressing the softest kiss to your clit, taking it slow and easing you into it with slow licks. You couldn’t help the whimpers escaping you, a needy sound desperate for more – more Joel. He pinned you down with his arm splayed over your tummy, keeping you right where he wanted you, turning you into a withering moaning mess under him.

Joel continued exploring you with his tongue. Changing between flicking and lapping at your clit, circling it just right, and wrapping his lips around it, giving it gentle sucks. He lapped at your folds, the hook of his nose catching on your clit as he tasted you properly. You felt yourself pushed closer and closer towards the edge, coxed by Joel.

Two careful fingers spread you apart, gliding up and down, coated in your arousal. He easily found your entrance to push a finger carefully inside. You felt yourself clench down on him; you couldn’t help it. You were so sensitive and so close. Dropping your mouth open, a breathy moan escaped.

“Oh, fuck,”

Joel hummed against your pussy, the vibrations traveling straight to the coil tightening in your tummy. Slowly, he started thrusting his finger inside, rewarded by a slick sound, telling him just how wet and desperate you were for him. With a moan your head rolled back into the pillow – you were so close.

“Joel,” you panted.

His tongue continued his assault on your clit, and you lost yourself in him. You clamped down on his finger with every thrust. You didn’t know how much longer you could take it. Joel was so focused on you, so attentive, so responsive. Between your legs he drank in every twist of pleasure and whimpering moan.

“Joel,” you panted again.

“You’re gonna come for me aren’t you, sweetheart? Be a good girl and make a mess on my face.” he coaxed.

Joel quickly withdrew his finger to slip in another, and the new stretch had your legs shaking. His tongue circled your clit, sucking it with just the right amount of pressure. Underneath him you squirmed, breathy moans hitching in your throat.

“Oh, god,”

You couldn’t answer him. Couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t take it anymore.

With a silent cry, you came. His strong arm over your tummy held you down, as you twitched against the mattress, legs shaking. You’d never felt anything like this before. A pleasure so all-consuming you couldn’t remember your name, or where you were – only Joel. He helped you through it. His fingers kept up their pace, pads brushing right up against that spot of bliss, as you clenched down hard around them. You gripped the sheets, desperate for a lifeline as you came down.

Joel slowed down his fingers, pressing soft kisses to your clit. Your pleasure turning to overstimulation – now you definitely couldn’t take it anymore. Fragile and sensitive, you pushed him away with a shaky hand.

He let you push him around, his lips finding the inside of your thighs instead, where his mustache teased the sensitive skin. With one last kiss, Joel pulled away. You almost didn’t register the dip in the mattress as he laid down beside you. You were somewhere else entirely, floating away on a post-orgasm-cloud.

“Joel, shit, I…” you tried to speak, your voice hoarse with exhaustion.

“I know, sweetheart,” Joel answered. He pulled you closer, wrapping a hand around you. Slowly, you turned to your side, engulfed in Joel’s embrace.

“D-did you want to–”

You could feel the presence of his hard clothed cock pressed against your ass, but his big safe arms around you told you a different story. He nosed at the back of your neck, pressing fluttering kisses to the skin, making goosebumps erupt.

“No, darlin’, not tonight,” his voice was just above a whisper, the bass vibrating against your ear.

“Are you sure­? I-I mean– we can if you want to,” you spluttered. He’d just given you the best orgasm in your life, he shouldn’t have to go to bed without one for himself.

“Not tonight,” he said, pressing a kiss behind your ear, “It’s been a long day– I’m tired, you’re tired­… let’s just sleep, my sweet girl.”

“S-should we talk about this?” you asked, your hand slipping into his, pressing it against your naked chest.

“In the mornin’,” he hummed, voice coated in sleep.

With heavy eyelids, you fell asleep in Joel’s arms. The safety of being wrapped up in him, lulled you into a peaceful slumber. The motel bed was hard and uncomfortable, and the pillow thin and flimsy, but it didn’t matter in Joel’s arms.

Morning came too quickly, and with a screeching sound of an alarm clock that pulled you from heaven. Jolting awake behind you, Joel groaned. His hands slipped from your body; the warmth exchanged with prickling goosebumps. You shifted over on your back, watching as Joel turned off the alarm. The beeping stopped, and with a tired grunt Joel laid down back beside you. When he looked at you – his tired eyes glinting – a sleepy smile pulled at his lips.

“Mornin’,”

“Good morning, Joel” you smiled back.

“It is a good mornin’, isn’t it?” he hummed, turning on his side.

You mirrored him, shifting closer and resting your head on his pillow. He snaked a hand over the dip in your waist, big hand splaying over your naked back.

“It is,” you agreed, locking eyes with him.

Rubbing in slow circles, his hand on your back was soothing. You reveled in it, reveled in Joel, in the bliss of being so close to him. You shifted even closer, resting your forehead to his chest.

“You should probably fire me,” you mumbled into his skin, “I’ve been extremely unprofessional.”

A chuckle came from deep inside Joel, it vibrated through his skin, where you felt it under your fingertips.

“I ain’t firin’ my best employee,” he laughed, placing a dry kiss to the top of your head.

You pulled away with a frown, head back on your own pillow. “This is like the cliché of clichés, Joel– sleeping with your assistant…”

In the bright light of the day, you cursed yourself for your late-night moment of weakness. You’ve never done anything like this before. What if this will be all that Joel wants from you from now on? You don’t think your heart could take it if it was.

Joel’s laugh died in his throat, his eyebrows meeting in a frown. “Who said anything about sleepin’ with my assistant?”

Your eyes widened with mortification. Shit. A hand came up to rub at your face, as you sat up, pulling the sheets around you.

“Hey, no, sweetheart,” Joel grabbed at your hand, stopping you in your tracks.

You couldn’t look at him – afraid tears would push behind your eyes. He’s a pornstar, what were you thinking? You were just a girl. A girl to warm his bed for a night. How could you put your job on the line for something like this?

The sheets rustled as he shifted closer, “Please, lay down, I need to talk to you.”

“Joel, I-I’m sorry– w-we can just forget about it– I’ll quit, don’t worry about it– me, don’t worry about me,” you stuttered out, your back still turned.

“I ain’t forgettin’ about nothin’, sweetheart– shit, d’you think I do this often?”

His question made you turn around. He was propped up on his elbow, carefully watching you.

You nodded, and he sighed.

“It’s been years since I’ve slept with someone outside of work,” he confessed, “Shit, I don’t even seek it out, I ain’t interested in it.”

“I-I’m sorry Joel, I­–” you started, but he cut you off,

 “You’re not listenin’,” he shook his head, “what I’m sayin’ is: I wanna sleep with you.”

Your face scrunched up in a confused frown, “Because I’m someone from work?”

Joel let out a breathless chuckle, “No, sweetheart, ‘s because I think you’re beautiful.”

His words almost didn’t register.

“What?”

This time his laugh is loud and golden, coated in happiness. He pulled at your hand, and you fell, your back hitting the sheets.

“You are…” he emphasized, cupping your cheek, and guiding you back in his embrace. “And you’re a shy little thing, aren’t you? But so smart, and kind, and caring­– someone you can’t help but fall in love with.”

“Fall in love with?” you repeated, you couldn’t believe what he was telling you.

“Yeah, sweet girl,” he smiled at you, all teeth, and crinkles around his eyes in the morning light.

“Oh,”

“Yeah,” he laughed, guiding your face closer to his, his lips brushing over yours, “wanna make you mine, sweetheart.”

His kiss stole your breath and twisted you up inside. He licked at the seam, and you opened yourself to him. He licked into your mouth, one arm snaked around your body, drawing you closer, pulling whine after desperate whine from you and stealing your breath.

Landing on your hip, his hand traveled downwards – over the thick of your thigh, and down the inside in smooth motions. He tugged on your leg, pulling it to rest over his hip, his hard cock rutting into your bare heat. His kiss got more desperate; his tongue melded with yours. It was hot, and dizzying and all-consuming all at the same time.

You grinded against him, feeling his hard cock against you. The fabric of his underwear caught on your clit, rubbing it just right, your arousal darkening the fabric. You moaned into his mouth, a desperate need for Joel building deep in your stomach.

With a rut of his hips, he broke away from your kiss. “You want me to fill up this perfect little pussy, don’t you baby?” His hand on your cheek disappeared between your bodies.

“Yes,” you tried to say, but the words got stuck in your throat when you felt the head of Joel’s cock rub up and down your folds. Your heavy breathing, the slick sound of your arousal the only sound in the room.

“Listen’ baby, y’hear how wet you are for me?” he whispered in awe, the head of his cock caught on your clit. You braced yourself with a hand to his shoulder, breathy pants the only sounds leaving your lips.

“You’re desperate for it, aren’t you?” he chuckled. He let go of the grip around his cock, the sound of it slapping against his stomach obscene. A beat later he swiped his fingers through your folds, coating them in your arousal before drawing tight circles to your clit.

Your face squeezed shut in pleasure, your fingers dug into his shoulder. He eased a finger inside, before he quickly pulled out and added another. The stretch of his fingers was easy, your arousal dripping over his knuckles as he thrusted them inside with ease.

You grinded down on his hand, meeting his thrusts, forcing his fingers deeper inside. Always so attentive, Joel curled his fingers where they hit your spot perfectly, just like he’d done last night. A breathy squeal fell from your lips.

“That’s it, sweetheart, let me hear you,” he egged you on.

“Joel, please,” you panted. Sparks traveled through your body, collecting in a pit in your stomach where it coiled in on itself, aching for release.

He curled his fingers again, and hit your spot – his palm snug against your throbbing clit, “Fuckin’ perfect you are, darlin’, so tight and wet around my fingers.”

“Shit,”

He pushed you straight for the edge, your walls fluttered around his fingers. Your panting got heavier, your eyes squeezed shut, you’re so close. Joel chuckled, his breath puffing your face and he… pulled away.

You whined at the emptiness, opening your eyes to see him staring at you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

He cupped your jaw, “Poor baby,” he pouted before he pulled you in for a kiss. You sighed into him, desperate to feel him anyway he wanted.

“Turn around,” he ordered against your lips, his hand letting go of your jaw to tap at the top of your hip.

You did as he told you, turning around in his hold to press your ass against him, feeling his hard cock pressed against you. Behind you, you heard him let out a deep and guttural groan. His hand hooked under your thigh, lifting it to your chest and exposing your wet and desperate cunt for him. You let him manhandle you into the position he wants, trusting him to know what’ll feel the best.

He guided the tip of his cock through your soaked folds coating it in your arousal before grazing it over your throbbing clit.

“You ready, sweetheart?” he whispered in your ear, like a hiss. He lined himself up with your entrance, teasing you, and himself.

“I-I need it, Joel, please,” you begged, a hand clinging to the sheets.

“Yeah? You need it, sweetheart? Need this big cock to fill you up?” he asked, pushing just the tip inside.

“Joel, please, please,” you whimpered, almost a squeak. In one fluid motion he pushed inside, burying himself to the hilt inside you. The stretch of him was overwhelming, but the angle had you seeing stars.

“Ah– fuck,” you cried, your eyes immediately squeezing shut. Your hand searched for his where it held your leg to your chest. You needed to anchor yourself to him, afraid you’d fall apart right there and then.

“You alright sweetheart?” you heard him whisper in your ear, and you nodded slightly, “Feel good?”

“Yes, Joel,” you whimpered, mouth dipping open in pleasure. 

Behind you he groaned into your ear, cursing in hushed whispers. “That’s it, good fuckin’ girl, takin’ all that cock inside,” he pulled out nearly all the way, taking his time with it, moving with practiced motions.

“Shit,” you mewled as he bottomed out inside for the second time. Grinding against your ass, he pushed himself as deep as he possible could – you felt him in your fucking stomach, he was so deep.

“You can take it, sweetheart,” he told you, pulling out and thrusting back inside.

Picking up the pace, Joel started fucking into you deep and hard. With each grind of his hips against your ass, with every thrust, he made sure to bury his thick cock as deep inside as he could, angling his cock expertly so the head rubbed up against your spot. Behind you he grunted and moaned in your ear. It was sweaty and hot, and sticky between your legs.

He let go of your leg, ordering you to press it to your chest, as his hand traveled downwards to brush his fingers over your throbbing clit.

“Joel,” you mewled. He pulled a symphony of whimpers and moans from you with every thrust.

“This pussy’s so fuckin’ tight– shit,” he panted in your ear, “You’re so good for me baby, takin’ that cock so well.”

His fingers pressed down on your clit, drawing tight circles, pushing you towards the edge of bliss. You squirmed against him, hips meeting his with every thrust as you start to chase your fast approaching orgasm.

“Need you to come for me, sweetheart– squeeze that cock like a good girl.”

“Joel,” you cried and let go. Your walls fluttered around his cock as you came, back arching off his chest, as your body squirmed and shook in his arms. Breathy gasps and pathetic whimpers left your lips as he kept up his unrelenting pace, fucking you through it, and prolonging your high.

You were far away. Blissed and fucked out as you came down from your moment of ecstasy. Behind you Joel’s grunts bordered on desperate, as his thrusts started to become sloppy.

“Shit, sweetheart– m’close, so fuckin’ close.”

“Come for me Joel,” you pleaded.

“Fuck,” he grunted as he pulled out.

His hand was on you in an instance, pushing you to your stomach as he turned you around. He knelt over you, fisting his cock desperately. Turning your head, you pushed off the bed to look over your shoulder where you found his eyes, locking them with his. Joel came with a guttural moan, the muscles in his stomach tightening and loosening as he coated your ass in his cum. It was hot and sticky on your back, feeling it drip slowly down the side of your waist.  

“God damn,” he breathed out through a chuckle. His breath was heavy, like he’d just climbed ten stories.

You turned to your side to look up at him properly. He looked beautiful; his hair messy from sleep, broad chest heaving, a content smile pulling at his lips as you gave him a smile.

“Took the words straight out of my mouth.”

i hope you liked this! part two -> here

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller fanfic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #dom!joel miller #the last of us smut #tlou smut #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal #inexperienced!reader #70s AU

[javiscigarette]

Silent Night

Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You’re home for the holidays and Joel isn't gonna let a drinking contest or a house full of people stop him.

Warnings: PWP ofc, established relationship, mentions of drinking/alcohol, having to keep quiet?, oral (f&m receiving), thigh grinding, creampie, breeding kink, come play, getting caught, I think that's all lmk if I missed anything

w/c: 6.6k

a/n: hiii everyone! I am in fact alive! I'm finally on break from school and this is just a lil something I wrote real quick bc I've been in the holiday spirit since before October even ended hehehe :) Anyway, thank u to the actual loml @undrthelights for beta reading and finding the perfect pics!! It's nice to be back! Please leave a comment letting me know if you liked it, support is what keeps writers going!! Love u all!!

my masterlist

Your hips grind a little harder against his thigh, a soft sight falling from your lips as he licks and sucks at the spot under your ear that drives you absolutely wild. “I don't think I can be quiet” you whisper, gasping softly when his tongue swipes over your pulse.  "You can" he mumbles against the side of your neck, the vibrations of his voice and his warm breath against your skin sending burning hot sparks down your spine. “You can do whatever I ask, can’t you baby?”

You can hear them downstairs, muffled sounds of Joel and several other of your family members talking and laughing while they sip on the fancy whiskey that your dad was saving for the occasion. You opted out of it, quickly taking up the offer of the first hour or two of alone time you’ve had since you arrived at your parents house two days ago instead. You figured Joel could use the time too, talking with your dad and uncles and cousins about whatever men talk about when they’re doing whiskey tasting in the mancave of a basement. 

You managed to avoid getting roped into watching a shitty Hallmark Christmas movie with the rest of your family or helping them prep for the big dinner tomorrow. After successfully sneaking away to your old childhood bedroom that’s now redecorated as a simple guest room, you're left with nothing to do besides relax. First up was a long shower with the water so hot you nearly scalded your skin, and now you’re cozied up in bed, nose buried deep in the middle of your book while the rest of the house buzzed with muted background noise. 

Time passes without you noticing, too engrossed in your book to keep track, but eventually the bedroom door creaks open, pulling you back to reality. You’re about to tell off whoever is at the door for interrupting you, but you immediately soften when Joel slips inside, quietly closing the door behind him. 

He looks so sweet, wrapped up in a thick dark brown sweater, his curls flopping over his forehead, a light dusting of pink on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose with a lopsided smile. His eyes are soft, warm, and a bit glassy as he looks at you like you’re the best thing he ever did see.

"Think your dad is trying to kill me" he says, his words slurring just a bit as he crosses the room over to the bed.

You giggle, watching him plop down on the bed on his back, his head rolling over to look at you, "Are you surprised? He does this to you every year."

It's true, every holiday at your parents house, your dad insists on the whiskey "tasting", which is really just him pouring heavy handed shots and glasses and seeing who's going to be the last one to tap out. Usually it's just him and his brothers in the end, hashing out some decades old sibling rivalry in the form of a drinking contest. And ever since the first time you brought Joel home for the holiday five years ago, your father has insisted on dragging him down there and challenging him too.

The first year was the worst with Joel not heeding any of your warnings about how much liquor your dad would actually push on him. Joel was so sick by the end of the night that he made best friends with the toilet and passed out on the couch, then spent most of the next morning with a massive hangover, apologizing profusely to your dad about it who just laughed and said that he can try again next year.

Thankfully, Joel knows his limits now and has made peace with the fact that he'll never beat your dad at his own game. It doesn't mean that the challenge doesn't still stand.

"No" he mumbles, a dopey smile spreading across his face, "Guess I jus' never expect him to pour shots big enough to knock out a horse"

"How many did you have this time?" You ask, bookmarking your place in the book before setting it aside, sitting up a little straighter and adjusting the pillows behind your back.

"Jus' three."

"Oh, so you are  just a lightweight then?"

"I'm not a fuckin' lightweight" he grumbles with a dramatic pout. 

You laugh as you turn to lay on your side, propping yourself up on your elbow. Your hand instinctively falls to his hair, a small content sigh falling from his lips as your fingertips skate across his hairline and glide through his soft curls.  scooting closer to him and reaching down to run your fingers through his hair, "Okay, baby" you hum, smiling when his eyes fall shut as your nails gently scratch his scalp, "If you say so."

Joel melts under your touch, like a cat basking in the sun, a lazy little grin on his face and a dreamy, far off look in his eyes. His face is still flushed, the tips of his ears and the tops of his cheeks a rosy shade of pink, his lips slightly parted, a few more stray curls falling across his forehead. He looks absolutely gorgeous, and the soft, tender look in his eyes when he finally looks back up at you melts you from the inside out.

You cup the side of his face in your hand and ;ean in to press a lingering kiss to his forehead. "You're so cute when you're drunk" you murmur, moving kissing his cheek.

"M'not drunk"

You pull back to look him in the eye, smiling, "Sure you're not"

"I'm not" he whines, "M'just a lil' tipsy."

"Alright" you hum, pressing a quick kiss to his pouty lips.

Joel follows your mouth with the softest whine when you start to pull back, his large hand cupping the back of your head, holding you still while he kisses you, needy, but still so sweet. The taste of whiskey is heavy on his tongue as it slides against yours, a soft, satisfied noise rumbling in his chest when you part your lips further, kissing him deeper. 

When he finally lets you break the kiss, you're left just a little breathless and dazed, a giddy feeling swirling low in your belly. His pupils are blown when he looks up at you, his lips spit slick and plump, a lopsided smile on his face. He turns a little more on his side facing you, his fingers fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt until his hand slips easily underneath like it was meant to be there. The warmth of his palm smoothing up and down the curve of your spine is soothing, his fingers gently tracing over your ribs and the dip of your waist, the slight scratch of his calluses over your skin sending a shiver down your spine.

His eyes are half-lidded as he stares at your lips, licking his own. Realistically, you knew exactly what was going to happen as soon as he entered the bedroom. You know how he gets when he's like this, soft, sweet, and incredibly needy. With all the amount of times he tugged you into a bar bathroom after he's had a few, or when Tommy drops him off after a night out and he's already halfway to undressing you before the front door even shuts. You know he's trouble like this, but you can never deny him when he's looking at you like that, like you're the only thing he needs, the only thing he's ever needed.

He leans in to kiss you again, slow and sweet, his fingers splaying on your lower back and keeping you close. His mouth moves languidly against yours, the tip of his tongue tracing your bottle lip and his teeth sinking in the slightest bit to nip and tug, pulling a desperate little sound out from the back of your throat. 

He sighs at the small sound and starts to lean into you more, using his weight to roll you over until you're flat on your back with him hovering above you, his forearms on either side of your head with his knees bracketing your hips. The kisses grow hungrier, wetter, more insistent, his mouth moving against yours like he's trying to breathe the very air from your lungs. 

He shifts a bit and you moan softly into his mouth when his thigh slots between yours, the firm muscle of his thigh pushing right up against the apex of your thighs, the perfect amount of pressure to make heat spark and smolder in your belly. He does it again, rocking his thigh up against you just a little harder, swallowing the needy whimper that you let out, the heat and friction making you ache. 

You can’t help but grind against his thigh, the seam of your sweatpants pressing against the damp spot that’s already forming on your panties and digging into your clit just right. You’re chasing the growing pleasure, the firmness of his thigh and the intoxicating taste of whiskey on his soft lips mixed with the faint trace of his peppermint toothpaste. You’d give anything to have him, for him to take you, but the sounds of laughter and chatter coming from downstairs is a rude reminder of reality. 

"Joel" you warn with absolutely no heat in your voice, his lips grazing the sensitive spot under your ear, "We can't.”

He ignores you for a beat, crashing his lips back on yours and kissing you until he needs to come up for air. 

"We can" he says, his voice gravelly and thick with want, the deep rumble vibrating in his chest. "We're bein' real quiet"

His lips trail across the line of your jaw and up your cheek before landing on your mouth again. The slow, lazy drag of his tongue against yours makes you throb, another soft when escaping you and the muscles in your legs and stomach tightening as you make no effort to stop moving against his thigh. 

“Everyone will hear us” you try feebly, knowing it’s futile. 

Joel smirks against your lips, the bastard. “Nah. I’ll be quiet.” 

You know he's a damn liar and a bad one at that. In what world could you be quiet with his hands and mouth on you, with his thick cock buried deep inside you, stretching you out and filling you up so good that your toes curl? And in what world could he be quiet, not running his mouth about how good you feel, how pretty you look stuffed full of him, how well you take him. You know exactly how it'll go, if the numerous failed previous attempts are anything to go by.

But then his lips are on the side of your neck, and you're forgetting why it matters. You let your eyes fall shut as his lips press gentle, wet kisses up and down the column of your throat, the stubble on his cheeks and chin scratching and tickling in the best way. You're quickly forgetting why this was a bad idea to begin with.

Your hips grind a little harder against his thigh, a soft sight falling from your lips as he licks and sucks at the spot under your ear that drives you absolutely wild. “I don't think I can,” you whisper, gasping softly when his tongue swipes over your pulse point. 

"You can" he mumbles against the side of your neck, the vibrations of his voice and his warm breath against your skin sending burning hot sparks down your spine. “You can do whatever I ask, can’t you baby?” 

“I don’t- oh…” 

The rest of your sentence dies on the tip of your tongue as he pushes his thigh against you, grinding it up against your core in a way that has your head spinning and toes curling, the pleasure sharp and delicious as it melts into your veins. 

“That’s right” he murmurs, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You’ll do whatever I say, huh?” 

There’s a pause and when you open your eyes, his are dark, his pupils blown wide, the deep brown nearly swallowed whole. His hair is tousled and curlier than ever, a few loose strands hanging in his face. His lips are slightly parted, swollen, red, and sick and shiny from your kisses. He’s an absolute sight and you can’t help but nod, eager to do whatever he wants, whatever he asks, because god it’s always worth it. 

His eyes crinkle a bit at the corners and the lopsided smirk on his face widens. He’s the fucking devil. 

Just the thought of him taking you with the rest of the house full of your extended family is making your veins buzz, excitement bubbling low in your belly. But you're well aware of just how thin the walls are and how nosy some members of your family are and you can't fathom how awkward it would be to come down for breakfast the next morning after the whole house heard you getting absolutely railed.

"It’ll be okay" he assures, reading your thoughts, his hands slipping under your shirt again. The fabric bunches up over his wrists as he slides his palms up your torso to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. "M’not gonna let anyone else hear you. Just me."

Fuck.

His simple words are enough to convince you, not that you needed much convincing in the first place. He had you wrapped around his finger and him around yours, and there was no way you were going to say no to what you know will come next. A jolt of electricity shoots down your spine and settles hot and heavy in the pit of your stomach. Your resolve breaks, your legs falling open further, letting him get even closer, and Joel lets out a soft, happy noise against your mouth.

"Atta girl" he hums, his voice rough and deep, "So good for me, aren't ya baby?"

"Always" you manage to reply, the word more of a sigh as you arch your back, his thumb teasing your nipple until it's pebbled and hard.

He gives into you easily, tugging your shirt up and over your head. His mouth lands on your chest as soon as it’s exposed, immediately licking and kissing across your collarbones and the swell of your breast. He noses along the valley between them, the coarse hair of his beard tickling your skin and making you giggle. You can feel him grinning against your skin before he nips and sucks at the supple flesh until a red mark rises to the surface. 

You squirm beneath him, his leg still nestled perfectly between yours and pressing against you every time he shifts. The pressure is building in your gut, your clit aching and throbbing. The feeling is almost too much with his hot wet mouth now wrapped around your nipple, his tongue swirling around the stiff peak making it harder and harder for you to keep quiet. 

“Joel,” you hiss, the word half warning and half plea. 

“Hush, baby” he mumbles against your skin. His fingers replace his mouth, pinching and teasing your swollen, spit-slick nipple as he kisses across your chest to lavish your other nipple with the same attention. 

“Gotta be quiet, remember?” he says when he pulls back, releasing your nipple with a wet pop. “Unless you want everyone hearin’ ya” 

You open your mouth to say something in protest, to tell him that he’s making things a lot harder right now, but then he starts moving, sliding down the bed and the words die in your throat. The look he gives you as he settles on his stomach between your thighs is sinful, his eyes dark and mischievous, his lips pulled up into a smirk. 

He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your sweats, slowly pulling them along with your panties down your legs, leaving you completely bare. Your stomach swoops at the sight of his eyes trained to your center and your thighs twitch, wanting to snap shut and hide. But his hands on both of your thighs keep you spread open for him. You swallow thickly, your breath catching in your throat, the anticipation building in the pit of your belly as your slick starts to drip down the cleft of your ass. 

Joel’s mouth falls open slightly, a shaky breath escaping him. “Fuck, baby” he sighs, tongue darting out to lick his cherry red lips, his eyes glazing over. A small, content smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, a swell of pride blossoming in your chest. He looks wrecked, like a starving man eyeing his first meal, and the way he's looking at you so intently, like you're the best thing he's ever seen, the thing that's kept him alive all these years, is making your heart pound almost painfully in your chest. 

“Fucking gorgeous,” he praises, his hand running along the inside of your thigh. “And all mine.” 

Like he can’t wait another second, he’s leaning in and licking a long, wet stripe up your center, dragging his tongue through your folds from your leaking hole to your swollen, needy clit. The feeling of his tongue on you pulls a soft, broken sound from you. You clap your hand over your mouth as your head spins, a rush of pleasure washing over you making the muscles in your thighs and stomach twitch and flex. 

He does it again and again, and every time his tongue flicks over the swollen bud, you let out a soft whine that sounds far too loud in the otherwise quiet room.

He groans against you, his mouth already wet and messy as he laps at your pussy like he's starving for it, like he would die without tasting you. His eyes are locked on yours, the look in them so dark and primal that it makes your walls clench, more slick freely leaking out of you and onto his tongue. He laps it up happily, his fingers digging into your hips, holding you steady as his mouth works your clit.

He lets out a quiet, breathy moan when you slide your hand through his hair once again, your fingers tangling in and pulling on the soft brown strands. His eyes flutter shut, a shuddery exhale falling from his parted lips, and the feeling of his warm breath fanning over your wet, sensitive center has you stifling another high pitched whimper.

You roll your hips up against his face, desperate for more, and he gets the hint, the flat of his tongue swiping up through your folds a few more times before he dips it into your entrance, pushing in and out while his nose nudges at your clit. You're writhing beneath him, tugging at his hair, trying so hard to be quiet but failing miserably, soft, desperate little noises pouring out of your mouth. You know he's loving it too, making no effort to keep your noises at bay, not giving a single fuck about who might hear.

He moans against your cunt, the vibrations making you jolt, your hips rolling up to meet him. You're panting, the hand that isn't buried in his hair gripping the sheets tight enough that your knuckles turn white, and your back arches when his tongue fucks in and out of you faster, rougher.

"Joel, fuck" you gasp, "I- I'm-

He growls, the sound muffled by your pussy, the vibrations and the feeling of his stubble dragging along your inner thighs making your toes curl, the familiar coil in your belly tightening, your thighs trembling.

He doubles down, bringing a hand between your legs to replace his tongue with two thick fingers sinking into you and curling up against that spot inside you that has you seeing stars, his tongue circling your clit while his fingers pump in and out of you, his mouth and hand working in tandem to pull you apart.

"Fuck, I'm close" you whimper, his fingers crooking against that spot inside of you, sending white hot fire coursing through your veins as your slick leaks down his fingers and into his palm like hot honey. 

He hums, sucking your clit between his lips, and your legs clamp around his head, your hand tightening in his hair as your orgasm crashes over you, your back arching off the mattress, a muffled, broken moan spilling out from behind your hand. He fucks you through it, his tongue flattening out against your clit while the tips of his fingers rub against that sweet spot inside of you, sending more sparks of pleasure tingling up and down your spine.

When it's too much, when the sensitivity makes tears prick in the corners of your eyes, you make a feeble attempt to push him away. He pulls back, sitting up on his knees, his chin and cheeks wet with your slick, his pupils blown so wide that the brown is almost completely swallowed up by black. He stares at you, his gaze so heavy and intense that it makes another shiver run down your spine.

"You're not being very quiet" he smirks as he moves off the bed to stand up.

You roll your eyes, still coming down from the aftershocks, your thighs quivering, "Yeah, no shit" you mutter, propping yourself up on your elbows.

He chuckles as he pulls off his sweater and the t-shirt underneath it before he starts unbuckling his belt and working on his jeans. You sit up, shuffling closer to the edge of the bed, reaching out and batting his hands away, taking over and quickly unfastening the button and pulling the zipper down.

He doesn't protest, letting you push his jeans and boxers down his legs until he kicks them all the way off. Your mouth waters at the sight of his thick, hard cock hanging heavy between his legs, flushed a deep red with slippery precum beading at the tip. You reach out, wrapping your hand around the base and taking a moment or two to revel in the familiar weight and warmth of him in your hand.

He shudders, a low moan rumbling in his chest, his eyes slipping shut as his hand moves to cup the back of your head. He watches you intently as you take your time, lazily stroking him, rubbing the pad of your thumb over the leaking tip and tracing the throbbing veins that run along the sides. His breathing grows heavy, his jaw clenching and his stomach muscles twitching as he tries so hard not to buck his hips up into the loose circle of your fist.

"C'mon, sweetheart" he pleads, the words leaving his mouth as a low, breathless groan, "Get me all nice and wet for you."

He doesn't have to ask twice. You lean forward and you dart your tongue out to lap up the bead of precum, humming at the salty, bitter taste of it, swirling the flat of your tongue over the head of his cock, your hand pumping the rest of his shaft. His breath catches in his throat, a stuttered curse falling from his lips when you dip your tongue into the slit, teasing more precum out.

He groans, his grip on the back of your head tightening, urging you to take him into the warm, wet heat of your mouth. You sink down, flattening your tongue and taking him all the way until he hits the back of your throat, the tip of his cock brushing against the roof of your mouth. You breathe through your nose, hollowing your cheeks, swallowing around him, and the deep, guttural groan that he lets out has you squirming, slick leaking out of your cunt and onto the sheets below.

"There ya go" he pants, his head lolling back, "Oh, baby, that's it. S'fuckin' perfect."

You pull off, a string of spit and precum connecting his cock to your bottom lip, and you look up at him through your lashes.

"Need to be quiet" you remind him, "Or else I'll stop"

He lets out a shaky breath and nods, swallowing hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He's not used to keeping quiet, not used to not telling you how good you feel, not used to not begging you to let him cum in that low, raspy tone that never fails to make you weak.

"I'll be good," he whispers, breathless and needy. "Promise."

Your stomach swoops at his words, arousal burning bright in your belly. Unable to stay away for much longer, you lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to the head of his cock. His hips jerk, another drop of precum leaking out. You lick it up, swirling your tongue around the sensitive, swollen tip before sinking down again. You take him into the wet heat of your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and swallowing around him, bobbing your head slowly and steadily.

He bites his lip hard enough to draw blood trying with all his might to keep his noises in as you drool all over his cock. He can't take his eyes off you, watching the way he disappears into the slick heat of your mouth. You look so pretty with your lips wrapped around him, spit dripping down his cock and leaking out the corners of your mouth while your eyes water as you take him as far as you can.

You take him deeper, and you swallow, your throat convulsing around him, and the way his whole body shudders makes you smile, proud of the effect you have on him. He's so big and thick, and you both know you can't fit him all the way down your throat, but seeing you try your best is enough to make his thighs start to shake. 

His cock hits the back of your throat again and again, the tip dipping into the soft, warm, tight space, and Joel's breathing is getting heavier and faster, his jaw clenched and his eyebrows knitted together.

"Shit" he grits out under his breath, "That's it, sweetheart. That's fuckin' it."

The praise goes straight between your legs, a fresh wave of slick leaking out of you and it's too tempting to resist, so you slip your hand between your thighs and rub circles around your clit, moaning softly around his cock.

He hisses, his eyes snapping down, watching your hand disappear between your legs.

"Are you touchin' yourself?" he asks, the words coming out rough and choked, his eyebrows raised.

You nod, sliding a finger into yourself, and you pull off his cock, panting, a thin strand of spit connecting the head to your bottom lip.

"Can't help it" you whine pathetically, your voice already raspy from how far his cock had been down your throat.

Joel groans, his dick twitching, and he's had enough. He takes a step back, and you let go, a little confused and worried that you've done something wrong. But he just takes hold of your arms and yanks you off the bed, his strong hands easily manhandling you, and then he's pushing you, turning you around and bending you over the side of the mattress.

"Oh" you breathe out, bracing yourself on your forearms, arching your back, sticking your ass up in the air.

You don't have to wait long for him to move. His hand is smoothing over your ass, the other one guiding his cock towards your sopping cunt. He teases the tip between your folds, spreading your slick and dragging his head over your swollen clit a few times before lining himself up and sinking in.

You bite down on the inside of your cheek to keep quiet, letting out a stuttering breath, the familiar, delicious burn of his thick cock stretching you out making your eyes roll back into your head. You've made peace with the face that you'll never be used to his size. It'll always be too much, the feeling of him pushing into, forcing your walls to make room for him will always make you clench and shiver.

He's got his hands on your hips, holding you steady as he bottoms out, his hips flush with the curve of your ass with the tip of his cock pressed against your cervix. He holds himself there for a moment, both of you adjusting to the feeling, and you're trying so hard not to moan, to keep your noises muffled by the mattress, and you know Joel's struggling too, his jaw clenched tight and his brow furrowed.

"Good girl" he whispers, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips, "Taking my cock so well, aren't ya?"

You nod, whimpering, your fingers twisting in the sheets.

He pulls back and thrusts back in, setting a steady, slow rhythm, the wet slide of his cock making the most obscene sounds. And it's driving you crazy, the need to let out loud, your chest burning with the effort of keeping your noises in. He keeps his pace slow, not wanting to make more noise with his hips snapping against your ass. It’s nearly tortuous though, the drag of his cock in and out of you so slow that you can feel every ridge as he takes his sweet time. You can only handle it for a few moments before the tingling hints of pain from the stretch subside and the burning need for him to fuck you senseless takes over.

"Joel" you whine, "Faster, please."

He leans over you, his front pressed against your back, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "You're not gonna stay quiet if I do," he says, his voice deep and gravelly, "Just take what I give you, sweetheart."

You're so worked up, the slow pace makes you even more desperate for him, and you can't help it, you need more, and you reach a hand back and grab his hip, urging him to speed up.

"I-I'll try" you promise, "Please, just- Just fuck me, Joel, please"

He hesitates, but the way you're squirming beneath him is so tempting, and the way his cock is throbbing and dripping inside of you is telling him that he needs more too.

Before you can say anything else, he's pulling back, the thick, heavy weight of him sliding out of you. You whimper at sudden empty feeling but you don't have time to complain before he's flipping you over onto your back and scooting you up the bed before climbing on top of you. You can’t help but notice how big he is, the muscles flexing smoothly in his strong arms that box you in as he hovers above you, nearly encompassing your entire body underneath his. His mouth is on yours before you can even blink, his tongue slipping past your lips and kissing you like his life depends on it.

He settles between your legs, his hips nestled in the cradle of your thighs, his cock dragging along your clit again warm and heavy, and you gasp, the sound swallowed by his mouth. You're squirming again, desperate to feel him stretch you out more and he takes mercy on you, reaching between your bodies and grabbing the base of his cock, guiding the thick head towards your entrance.

"Gotta be quiet, baby" he warns, his eyes boring into yours as he looks down at you. "Those pretty noises are just for me, yeah? Can't have anyone hearin' 'em."

You nod frantically and the next second he's pushing in, the fat head of his cock forcing its way into you and bottoming out in one smooth motion. You let out a gasp that's definitely too loud but Joel is quick to remedy it, his hand coming up to cover your mouth, his fingers splaying across your cheek.

"Shh" he shushes you, his hips rolling, the slow, lazy drag of his cock against your walls making you clench around him. Your eyes roll back, your back arching as his hand stops all the whiny little sounds you can't help but make. He continues to fuck you slow and deep, his cock sliding in and out of your soaking wet cunt, the filthy sounds of skin slapping against skin echoing softly in the room.

You can't take your eyes off him, watching his eyes squeeze shut, the muscles in his arms and shoulders flexing as he fucks you, his brows knitted together and his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. He looks beautiful like this, sweat glistening on his skin, his jaw tight, and his eyes shut tight, his mouth hanging open with his breaths coming out in soft, barely audible pants.

"Mmm" he hums, his hips picking up speed, his cock pushing impossibly deeper. "You feel so fuckin' good, baby. Fuck."

You reflexively clench around him and a shudder runs through his whole body.

"Gettin' real tight" he pants, "Tryna milk the cum right outta me, huh? Tryna make me fill up that pretty pussy?"

You whimper into his palm, your pussy fluttering, a fresh wave of slick coating his cock, and he groans, his hips picking up speed.

"S'what you want?" he asks in a hushed tone, his hand still pressed firmly over your mouth. "You want me to fill you up? Make a mess of that pretty pussy? Breed you until you're fuckin' stuffed, baby girl?"

Your back arches off the bed, the coil in your belly so tight that you think you might pass out. He's rambling, his thrusts losing rhythm, his breathing getting ragged and choppy, his chest heaving and his thighs shaking.

"That's it" he coaxes when you tighten around him even more, "Can feel it, can feel how close you are. Go on, baby, cum on my cock. Wanna feel that tight, wet cunt cum all over my cock, please, baby."

His hips snap forward, his cock pushing deep into you, the tip rubbing against the spongy spot deep inside you that makes the coil in your belly finally snap. Your eyes roll back, a muffled, broken moan falling from your lips as your entire body convulses, your orgasm washing over you and making your toes curl as your walls flutter around his cock buried to the hilt inside of you.

Joel lets out a deep, low groan, his hips stuttering as he fucks you through your orgasm. His hand slips away from your mouth so he can grip your hips with both hands, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, holding you in place so he can chase after his own release. His chest is tight as he holds in his grunts and groans, but it’s barely any use with the lewd noises that fill the room as your pussy gushes around him, your slick leaking past the tight seal of your walls around him and dripping down to his balls. 

"Oh, shit, baby. Christ,” he chokes out, his stomach muscles clenching as his hips slam into yours, his cock pushing impossibly deeper and harder. “Keep makin’ a mess, keep lettin’ me feel it. That’s it. Fuckin’ hell.” 

You can feel his cock starting to throb inside of you and you know he’s close. And you can’t stop the words from leaving your mouth, the need to let him know just how good he’s making you feel is destroying any bit of common sense. 

“Want you to fill me up,” you whine. “Please, Joel, wanna feel it.” 

That’s all it takes. His jaw clenches, his nose scrunching as his eyes squeeze shut. His cock twitches and pulses as he buries himself as deep as he can get before spilling into, filling you with thick, hot ropes of his cum. His hips jerking and stuttering d you clench around him, squeezing and milking him for everything he has while he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his broken, ragged moans against your skin.

"So good,” he whimpers. “Fuckin’ perfect.” 

The praise goes straight between your legs and you wrap your arm around his shoulders, trying to pull him closer. He lifts his head, his palm resting on your cheek as he lifts his head and presses his lips against yours, kissing you languidly. His hips rock back and forth lazily, pushing his cum in as deep as he can get it. You melt into the bed underneath him, the only things keeping you tethered to the earth being your fingers combing through his hair and your legs tightening around his waist.

When he finally pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, and you're both left panting, trying to catch your breath. You listen to the muffled sounds of people downstairs, the movie playing and their drunken voices filtering in through the door, and Joel must be thinking the same thing because he chuckles.

"Well" he says, his thumb rubbing back and forth over your cheekbone, "I don't think anyone heard us."

"You better hope they didn't" you retort, a grin on your face. Joel rolls his eyes. "That's a weird way to say thank you" he teases. You start to laugh, but the sound dies in your throat, morphing to a whimper instead when he starts pulling out his softening cock.

"Joel" you whine, but he doesn't stop. "Joel, please. It's-"

He's not listening, he's too focused on the way his cock looks when he pulls out. The tip slips out of you, and the rest follows, and his eyes widen as he watches a string of thick, sticky cum stretch from the tip of his cock to your cunt. It breaks, falling to your thigh, and he licks his lips. He can't tear his eyes away, watching the way your cunt flutters, and his cum starts to drip out, running down your slit, the obscene sight making Joel's spent cock twitch. 

"Shit" he mutters under his breath, "Ain't that a pretty picture."

He reaches down, dragging a finger through the mess of cum and slick and gathering it on his finger before pushing it back into your cunt. You clench around the digit before he sighs and pulls it back out.

"Gonna be leaking all day tomorrow" he murmurs, almost to himself.

You whimper, the thought of having him dripping out of you all day like that has renewed arousal already seeping into your veins. 

“It’s okay” he assures you, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll take care ya. Clean you up and put my cock back in right where it belongs, how’s that sound, hm?” 

You sigh, nodding, a wave of fatigue washing over you. “Sounds perfect,” you agree. 

You watch as he climbs off of you and starts to move, but a sudden, sharp sound of knuckles knocking on the other side of the bedroom door makes you both freeze. 

“You two are fucking disgusting!” the voice of your cousin calls out, accompanied by the sound of a couple other people giggling and laughing. “Put some goddamn clothes on and get down here!” 

You and Joel exchange glances, his eyes wide and apologetic, his cheeks burning bright red as you give him a look that says I told you so. 

“Alright, alright, we’re coming” he yells back. 

“We’re coming! Oh, yeah we’re coming!” another voice teases, the sound of everyone bursting out laughing quickly follows. 

“We’re never doing that again” Joel mutters and you can’t help but chuckle. 

“Yeah right. Keep telling yourself that”

Thank you for reading!!! Plsss let me know if you enjoyed hehehe

#joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #the last of us #tlou fic #joel miller #pedro pascal characters