#The Reciprocal Curve | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

millermouth · 20 days ago

Text

pretty baby

Summary: When Joel returns home after months away, he doesn't expect to see your face in the church pews. Or rather, your mother’s face, clear as day, stirring up everything he tried to forgive and forget. He tells himself to keep his distance, but something (and he's almost certain it's the devil) keeps putting you in his path, like it was always meant to happen this way.

|| smut MDNI 18+, angst, hurt / comfort, reader is fragile and emotional, reader is having a bit of a hard time, joel is down bad, soft!joel, very flirty!reader, no outbreak, age gap mentioned but not specified, readers mom and dad are addicts, joel might be a baby bit of a perv for this, reader asks joel to be rough, she doesn't know how to accept someone being nice :((( ok smut tags: pinv, f!receiving oral, fingering, kissssinggggg, riding, reader cries during sex, its emotional smut ok, aftercare, reader's mom has a given name for story purposes, reader is often compared to a kitten and 1 reference to a puppy, little bit of daddy kink, lotta praise kink || notes: I uh...whewy is this a doozy. I had so many big emotions writing this which is probably clear. please please please heed the tags!!!! im in love w this and I hope you are too hehe // teased here // inspired by ethel cain’s fuck me eyes

The thing about Austin, Texas, is that no matter how loud the city had gotten in recent years, a lot of the outskirts remained the same.

It didn’t matter how many new buildings there were, or how many Californians moved in claiming they’d discovered it, there were still patches of the town that time hadn’t bothered to touch. Pockets of quiet where the same families had lived for generations, where they still gathered in backyard lawn chairs and strummed guitars as the cicadas screamed. Joel had grown up in one of those towns just outside the hussle of the main city.

If there was anywhere he felt more like himself than in the rush of construction sites, it was there, on the quiet streets lined with sagging porches and humming box fans.

He was always happiest when he came back. Since his business took off and Sarah headed to university, he was taken far away more months out of the year now. Out of state, out of his rhythm, out of his usual comfort. And it was always the commercial ones that made him feel the most homesick. When he’d take jobs that required him to smile for millionaire owners who thought hard labor was something other people did. And so, on the first Sunday home, he found himself parked outside the old church in town again, pulled in by habit more than faith. He knew he’d see the same faces he’d grown up with, the same mothers and father of friends long gone, all still filing into the pews for their sunday worship.

Joel had never been much for man-made religion, but he respected and even enjoyed the community of it all. The way a small town church could hold a town together. Sarah needed that once, when she was young and angry and he wasn’t enough. Even though she was gone now, off to school with a future and friends, Joel still came. Maybe out of guilt, maybe out of hope.

Walking inside, the morning light bled softly through mosaic windows, washing the rows in color as he settled into a middle pew and exchanged handshakes with the men beside him. The voices were low and familiar, thick with that homely drawl he shared. They asked about business, how Sarah was, and told him how good it was to see him. He always reciprocated the kindness, it was cheerful and grounding all at once. But then, as everyone settled, he noticed someone else ahead.

Just a few rows ahead, hair piled high and skin glowing in the light from the stained glass, was the outline of your frame. You had a gentle curve of your spine beneath that summery top, and it pulled at something buried in Joel's memory.

And when you turned just slightly towards your neighbor, the air went still around him. You were saying good morning with a sugar sweet smile and a voice that raised the hair on his neck, and his mouth fell open before he could pick it up off the floor.

But no, it wasn’t who he’d thought at first glance. No, it couldn’t be. Carrie would be his age by now, and besides, she never came to this church anyway, never got outside the house these days as far as he knew. But God, the resemblance—the cheekbones, the curve of your mouth, the glint in your eyes—

“You sure do you look like your mama, ya know?” the man beside you said with a grin, leaning towards you like he was sharing a secret.

You turned your head more to respond, and your eyes found Joel’s for a split second over your shoulder, and you winked at him. As if he was in on the secret too.

“I know,” you said with a laugh, it was all honey and sickly sweet as you brought your hand up to grip the man’s arm, “She really taught me well.”

Joel had to make a conscious effort to close his mouth before a fly could land on his tongue. He was so in awe, so mesmerized by how much you looked like your mother. Carrie had never been the mothering type. She raised hell better than anything else. And if she had loved anything more than herself, it had been the chase. But looking at you now, standing in her place with a wink like that and eyes full of mischief, he felt a strange, uninvited gratitude. Maybe she hadn’t been perfect, but she’d given the world something beautiful.

He barely registered the rest of the service. The pastor’s sermon faded behind the soft motion of your shoulder blades, the gentle slope of your neck, the way the baby hairs at your nape curled delicately in the summer heat. His thoughts wandered as his eyes followed the way you tilted your head when you listened, the way you shifted to cross your legs, sending that same light across the exposed skin above your knee.

And when the service ended, when the final hymns were sung and the congregation began to move, Joel rose slowly. He was greeted by a woman who hugged him tight and welcomed him home, another who remembered him as a boy with scuffed boots and far too broody for someone so young back then. But his eyes kept drifting. They kept finding you, all smiles and ruby red nails.

You were standing at the altar now, speaking with the pastor and the sight of you nearly knocked him down. He couldn’t believe your chosen church attire. Cut off shorts that hugged you too well, a clingy tank top that damn near looked painted on, and heels on your feet. The pastor was red in the face, nodding politely as you leaned in close, thanking him for the service, for letting you volunteer at the soup kitchen last Friday. Joel could see the way the men around looked at you, all trying not to stare but by god, staring anyway. He wondered if you'd given any of them the time of day, if any held your interest as you spoke to the oldest man in the room. There was no ring on your finger, no boyfriend that he could see. You didn’t even glance at the youth pastor trying to make eye contact with you from the corner by the communion table.

But you looked at Joel suddenly. Turning away from the pastor with a quiet goodbye, you looked straight at him. And for a second, it wasn’t just Carrie’s features he saw in your face, but something else. Something raw and hollow. A well of grief, or loneliness, or maybe just the exhaustion of being too much in a town that wanted you to be less. And Joel knew the feeling like a bruise under the skin.

He turned before he could think better of it, pushed through the heavy church doors and stepped into the scorching Texas heat. The sun fell hard against his shoulders as he walked to his truck, sweat already gathering at the back of his neck, and he sat in the driver’s seat with the engine off and his hands tight on the wheel, wondering where in the hell you’d come from.

The good thing was, by the time the AC was blasting in his truck and the open stretch of county roads rolled out before him, he had mostly managed to scrub away the thoughts of you, of how you looked a thim. As if you knew him. As if you knew he could see you for what you really were beneath it all. It had only been a wink, one lasting look, but Joel couldn’t shake the feeling that, in that moment, he’d seen straight through you. Past the lip gloss and the red nails and the way you curled your voice like ribbon. And worse, you’d seen him too. He needed to shake you off. Rid himself of the memories that threatened the corners of his mind, the way they spun backwards like some cheap cinematic flashback in a drama movie, the kind he’d roll his eyes at if it weren’t playing out in his own damn head.

The cicadas buzzed through the open window, his elbow resting along the edge as he turned onto the road that led toward home. His thoughts still wandered, the way they always did when he was behind the wheel without anyone else in the cab, and without meaning to, he found himself giving into the thoughts. Of his life before, when he was just a young man in love with someone.

With your mother.

HIs first real girlfriend from highschool, the prettiest girl he’d ever known. She had a laugh like summer and eyes that could put any man on their knees. And she was so damn smart back then too, though she never would admit it. She'd always been kind, had been voted Most Likely to Become a Celebrity and Best Smile in their yearbook. She’d even won Cutest Couple, but it hadn’t been with Joel. No, because he’d loved her in a clumsy, boyish way young men do. He’d made her mixtapes and took her on dates sneaking into the movies or the lake. After a while though, she got tired of not being able to be spoiled or driven around. He always knew, though maybe he’d pretend not to, that he wasn’t enough for a girl like Carrie. She needed more, and even back then, Joel had more grit than charm. So she had left him for the golden boy of the football team, and he never could bring himself to hate her for it. The guy was everything he wasn’t, flashy and confident with his Camaro his daddy bought him. But the jock peaked his senior year, and now they lived in a rusted out RV on the far side of town deep in a drugged or drunken state as far as Joel knew.

And he hadn’t done that much better. Sure, he stayed away from the hard stuff, but he was the senior with a baby on his arm by the time graduation came around. He had found Sarah’s mom not long after the breakup with Carrie, and it felt like love for long enough. Even got married. And then divorced. And then left high and dry with a baby to look after. And Carrie and her washed up football star were still getting high every night, drinking their life away while he carried on.

Life was funny like that. In the end, it never mattered if you’d won Best Smile or Most Likely to Succeed, sometimes the one who burned the brightest burned out first while everyone else just kept…living.

He eased his foot off the gas now, rolling into the familiar gas station with the faded Coke mural across the cracked brick wall. He hadn’t thought about any of this in a long time, not with the ache in his chest blooming deep and familiar. But maybe that was what seeing you had done, like it had stirred something that had been sleeping just fine until you looked over your shoulder at him.

He wondered if he was too deep in his head, imagining things as he cut the engine and looked towards the door of the storefront.

Because you were there, standing outside the door to the gas station. How the hell did you end up here?

Your heels were off and dangling from your hand, the late sun casting your bare legs in gold as you leaned a little too close to a man outside the gas station entrance. Joel recognized him as the one who said you looked so much like your mom at the church. And it looked like you were trying to talk him into something, the way your head tilted up, eyes wide and lashes slow to blink, your hand brushing his arm like you knew exactly how to play your part. Joel didn’t need to hear the words to know the rhythm of the conversation.

He got out of the truck and shut the door loud enough for you to look over. When the guy turned, your hand pressed back against his chest like a quiet command. Eyes back on me. Joel didn’t linger, he just pushed through the door, the bells overhead jangling like wind chimes, and didn’t bother browsing. Straight to the back, cold shelf, six-pack of Miller Lite. He paid with cash, gave the man behind the counter a polite nod, and was turning to leave when he heard the muffled conversation outside turning louder, the heat of raised voices.

He caught a flash of your face between the cigarette posters taped to the window. Your expression had changed, all softness gone, replaced by something scornful and mean, your mouth tight and drawn. And as he stepped back outside with his fingers looped in the pack of beer, the volume shot up tenfold.

“—not worth a fuckin’ thing if you’re just gonna act like a goddamn tease,” the man barked, voice booming and angry, “Got your mama’s reputation, but not her guts, huh?”

Joel didn’t raise his voice as he approached, only walked up slow and heavy, making his presence known. Your eyes found him over the man’s shoulder almost immediately.

“That’s enough,” Joel said, voice calm as stone. “Time to head on.”

The man turned, gave him a once over and scoffed somewhere between annoyed and amused. “You her daddy or somethin’?” he asked, squinting into the sun, lips curling with a smirk. “Or just another sucker she’s playin’ for free shit?”

Joel didn’t flinch. “I said that’s enough. Get outta here.”

The man snorted. “Jesus, relax.” He held up his hands, backing away a step. “Mind your own business, man. She came up to me.”

Joel took a half step forward, not aggressive but assertive enough to be intimidating. He knew could rattle people without raising his voice with that burly, off putting kind of presence he carried whether he liked it or not.

For a second, the guy stood there like he might say more. Then he shrugged, the bravado wearing thin. “Whatever,” he muttered. “Ain’t worth the price of a bale of hay.”

Joel watched him go before turning back to you. “You alright?”

You nodded, lips pressed tight before you exhaled, shaking your head with a forced little laugh. “Real charmin', ain’t they?” you said.

Joel hesitated, shifting the weight of the beer in his hand as his gaze flickered around the nearly empty lot. “What’re you doin’ out here anyway?”

You squinted at him in the lowering light, like you were trying to decide how much to say. “Lookin’ for someone to buy me a pack.”

Joel’s eyes narrowed back on you, “Not old enough to buy your own?”

That made you snort. “I turned twenty-one a long, long time ago,” you said, a little theatrical. “I just don’t got the cash or my ID. Left it at home.”

Joel tried to chuckle, but it caught in his throat. The guilt hit fast and hot, low in his gut. Christ. What if you weren’t? What if he’d been sitting in that church, eyeing someone who hadn’t even aged into the beer she was asking for now?

His gaze dropped to the pavement as he exhaled, glancing back at his truck. “You want one of mine?”

You raised your brows. “Oh, and what’s the price, huh?”

Joel just shook his head, “Ain’t like that. S’just a bad side of town. Wouldn’t feel right leavin’ you out here, should get you home.”

“I don’t wanna go home.”

Joel weighed his options. He knew he wasn’t going to leave you here, all bare feet and scraped knees, your hair falling out of the clip and lipstick faded. But he knew if he did what he really wanted, it would be toeing a line he wasn’t sure he had any business getting near, let alone crossing. You were too young—a complete stranger and yet so familiar to him. He should’ve just offered you a cab or pointed you towards someone else’s door, but there was something in your eyes again as he looked back at you. Something there that kept him from walking away. It wasn’t… want, not even need. Just an emptiness. Something cracked and quiet and too close to what he’d seen in his own rearview mirror more than once. Something that made you so different from your mother.

“Then you can…you can come to mine,” he said softly. “Just for a drink. Just so I know you’re alright. Then we’ll talk about gettin’ you home.”

You didn’t answer right away, only watched him. He watched you back, saw how your eyes roamed over his broad shoulders in the late sunlight all the way down to his work boots, your tongue dipping out unconsciously to wet your lip before looking back in his eyes. Then finally, you gave the faintest nod, your voice low as you said, “Alright then. But only 'cause you asked nice.”

And Joel, gentleman to the bone, just walked you to his passenger door, held it open and said, “C��mon.”

The drive to his house wasn’t long, just a handful of turns and wide stretches of road that cut through dry fields and sleepy oak trees, but time seemed to drag, honey thick and viscous, like the heat still clinging to the asphalt. The air smelled of dust and engine grease and the faint sweetness of your perfume, something heady and cheap. The sun had dropped low behind the hills, casting the truck’s cabin in amber. Every so often, light spilled through your window and painted your thighs gold.

Joel had trouble keeping his eyes on the road. You had your feet propped on his side mirror, your red-painted toes catching the breeze, one ankle crossed over the other like you hadn’t a care in the world. When you cracked open the beer with a soft hiss, brought the rim to your mouth and drank slowly, he had to remind himself to breathe. The bottle looked big in your delicate hand, the polish on your nails glossy and the same shade as your toes. The same color as every warning sign he should be paying attention to.

You let your hair down halfway through the drive. The clip snapped off with a little flick of your fingers and your hair fell loose around your shoulders, catching in the wind pouring through the open windows. It whipped wild and free, strands of it drifting across the center console, brushing his arm.

Eventually, you set the bottle down in the cupholder and pulled your feet back to the floor. You sighed and dragged your nails up the length of your bare thighs, mussed your hair again like you were trying to look casual. Then you turned to look at him.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice soft and lazy like syrup, “for all this.”

“No problem,” Joel replied, trying to keep his tone even, his eyes on the road.

“It’s just…” You glanced out the window, then back at him. “I really appreciate it.”

“It’s really alright,” he said again, a polite smile on his face as he leaned on his fist in the window.

You were batting your lashes at him now, slow and calculated. He recognized it as the same look you’d given that man outside the gas station, turning on whatever switch you had to melt men in your hands. And soon enough, your own manicured hand was sliding across the console and brushed his thigh, red nails bright against his faded blue jeans.

“I just really wanna thank you proper,” you said, your voice suddenly low like smoke curling through the cab.

Joel went still, his one hand gripping the steering wheel tight.

“Oh, darlin’, I don’t—”

“It’s just," you cut him off, "I’ve had such a long day,” and your hand began to move, stroking higher, your touch light but confident. “And you were so sweet to offer me booze and a ride…”

Your fingers found the edge of his belt, the cold metal of the buckle, and that was enough. Joel flinched, and he caught your hand firmly before gently placing it back in your own lap.

“That ain’t what this is, hon.”

You blinked and leaned away, your head ticking back like you’d been slapped. A grimace twisted your lips, one brow arching in wounded surprise.

“What, you don’t want me?”

Joel could barely keep the wheel steady. You said it like he’d insulted you and your grandmother all in one breath. As if the thought of you coming on to him was the most ridiculous thing he could’ve imagined.

“It’s not—” he said, heat crawling up the back of his neck. “I just—this ain’t…I don’t… It ain’t about that. I’m not doin’ this for any kind of… payback. I don’t want nothin’. Don’t need nothin’.”

You crossed your arms tight over your chest and leaned against the seat stiffly.

“I just thought…” You said quietly, beaten down, defeated, wounded, “You know. You bought me beer. You’re givin’ me a ride. Not like most guys do that kinda thing for free.”

Joel dared a glance at you, but your face had turned away from him, looking out into the darkening neighborhood around you.

Something curled in his chest then, a slow, boiling heat that moved up his spine and settled sharp in his ribs. Anger, red and searing, but not at you. Not even close. It was for the men who came before, the ones who’d taught you that kindness was a transaction, that safety was something you had to pay for with your body. That you should expect to pay, just for needing something.

He pressed his lips together, eyes back on the road, knuckles whitening on the wheel as the sun bled out over the hills.

“No one ever done somethin’ for you just to be decent?” he asked quietly.

You huffed in annoyance and didn't answer him.

You seemed to have relaxed a fraction since the car ride over, Joel now beside you on the porch in his rocking chair. He strummed his guitar every now and then, foot ticking to the beat in his head. You had taken his flannel that had been draped behind the back of your chair and pulled it around your shoulders, even though the night was tepid and still. The porch light buzzed above you, casting everything in a yellow hue while the world around you began to quiet. Somewhere off in the distance, a dog barked and cicadas had started to hum low, almost lazily, as if even they were winding down.

You were in the chair beside him, your knees drawn in close, beer bottle in hand as you took slow, thoughtful sips. You looked at your toes a lot, where they curled under you, chipped polish catching what little light the porch offered. Every now and then, your cheek would rest against your knees, eyes drifting to him or across the lawn or up to the sky.

Joel didn’t say much, just enjoyed the quiet evening with the beer sweating in his hand between strums. His gaze moved over the yard, the porch rail, the stretch of gravel drive beyond the gate. He liked this, the stillness, the quiet. He’d even venture far enough to say he liked your company too.

“It’s so nice out here,” you murmured.

He hummed in agreement, not looking over.

“Peaceful.”

Joel paused his playing and took a sip. “That’s the idea.”

You tilted your head back, hair falling behind you as you looked up into the sky, now washed in that rich, late-summer indigo. A few stars had begun to blink through the haze, faint and patient, waiting their turn. Your lashes caught the porch light when you blinked, and Joel had to look away. His fingers found the guitar strings again, plucking lightly.

You spoke again, quieter now. “You always sit out here at night?”

“When I can.”

“Even when you’re alone?”

He nodded, eyes on your shadowed features, “Especially then.”

You were looking back at him, something gentle in your eyes. Not quite searching, not quite curious. Just... seeing him. He didn’t get that often. You smiled to yourself and let your legs unfold and slid upright in your seat, shifting to face him more. The porch creaked gently under the movement, boards worn smooth from years of foot traffic and hot sun. You leaned over and set your empty beer bottle on the table between you, fingers brushing the edge of his side of the table.

“Empty?” Joel asked.

You nodded, quiet, almost sheepish.

He set down his old guitar and stood, “I’ll go grab you ano—”

“I’ll come with you,” you said, almost too quickly. “If that’s okay.”

He hesitated, looked at you a little longer than he probably should have, but he nodded.

He opened the front door and held it for you, and you stepped through, bare feet soft against the threshold, the screen slapping gently shut behind.

Joel followed, heart ticking a little louder now with that strange, prickling feeling of someone else walking through his space crawling up the back of his neck. His house had grown quieter over the years, the corners taken over by clutter and dust, a man’s house through and through. Photos still lined the walls—Sarah’s drawings, her soccer trophies, a lopsided art project she made in elementary school that he could never quite bring himself to put away. There were old horse paintings on the walls too and a chipped mug still drying by the sink, the faint scent of wood shavings from replacing the cabinets a few months back.

He moved to the fridge, grateful for the small excuse to make himself busy. The cool air met his face in relief as he reached for two more beers.

“You have a daughter?” you asked, your voice gentler now. He peeked over the fridge door to see you standing by the entry table, holding a photo of him and Sarah at a soccer game. He knew the one, it was when she’d won her first trophy, his arm around her neck in pride, both of them wearing winning smiles. He’d been so proud, so happy to see her so happy.

He shut the fridge with a grunt, moving across the kitchen back to you. “Yeah, she’s in school now. All the way at UCB.”

You smiled faintly, still looking at the picture. “Smart girl.”

“Don’t I know it.” The corner of his mouth lifted despite himself and he held the bottle out to you.

You took it slowly, fingers brushing his as you wrapped your hand around the neck. He caught the movement of your eyes then as they flickered down to his left hand, to the bare stretch of skin where a ring might’ve sat. You didn’t say anything, and he didn’t ask.

But you set the bottle down then on the entry table, and Joel didn’t care if it left a moisture stain, not with the way something had changed in your expression.

“You never told me your name,” you said softly, stepping in closer, your hands coming up to press gently against his chest. His breath stuttered, caught somewhere between his ribs and throat.

“I—” he started, voice catching, and, clearing his throat, said: “It–it’s Joel.”

You smiled at that, eyes flicking up to his again. “Joel.” You tried it once, rolling your tongue around with it. He didn’t let himself think too hard about how right it sounded in your mouth.

Your fingers spread wide as they smoothed over his shirt, slow and certain, like you were learning him by feel. Joel put his beer down and his hands came up, cold with condensation and grasping lightly at your wrists, stopping their slow climb just before his collarbone.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he murmured, voice low. That ain't what this is.

“I know you did,” you said. “But… you’re just so…” you shook your head, tongue dipping out to moisten your bottom lip before tugging it beneath your teeth. He watched, transfixed, blood rushing in a low roar through his veins, dragging all his sense straight down with it.

“You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met, Joel,” you said softly, pushing up on to your toes, still barefoot and so god damn warm on him. Joel held his breath as your lips pushed against his jaw, through the thick scruff of his beard, and suddenly there was no more blood in his head, in his ears, in the rest of his body. It all rushed south.

“Darlin’, please,” he begged, shutting his eyes tightly, gathering his wits, “I don’t…I don’t think it’s a good idea,”

Because he knew your mother. Because he’d loved her once, and that alone should’ve been enough to stop him. Because he saw you in church today and let his eyes linger too long, let his thoughts stray where they shouldn’t, let the devil lean in close and whisper. And God help him, he listened.

Because it was the devil, he was sure of it, who’d set you in his path. Not fate or chance or any hope of angels. The devil, grinning and cruel, who laid you out like temptation on a Sunday afternoon.

And even when he tried to ignore that pull, tried to quiet the ache, to drive home and forget the way you looked at him in that pew, there you were again laid out in his path a second time at the station.

And maybe it was sin, or weakness, or something older than both, but part of him wanted to be the man who filled the ache he saw in you.

Because he’d seen the hollowness in your eyes, the sadness, the loneliness. And right now you were peppering kisses to his jaw, his neck, not listening to a word he was saying. He dropped one of his hands from your wrists, and you took that as some sort of consent to move in, but he stopped you. He pushed his hand into your hair, from your jaw to your ear to card his fingers through your locks, tangled and wind blown now, and latched his fingers at the nape of your neck.

You gasped in his hold, lips wet and parted, looking so goddamn tempting it made his teeth ache. But he held you there, held them away from his reach, scruffing your neck like a kitten too wild with need, your fingers clawing at his shirt, delicate and desperate.

“It ain’t right, darlin’,” he rasped, voice raw.

You whined softly, hips tilting toward him.

“If I do this,” he said, “there ain’t nothin’ gonna stop me from keepin’ you for myself. And that ain't fair. For you, for the boys your age.”

“Don’t want them,” you breathed, “Want you,” you breathed, “Keep me, please.”

He groaned, low and pained, nose brushing your jaw, his mouth close enough to nearly taste the salt of your skin. Your hands curled tighter into his chest, and he felt you trying to close the distance, inch by inch, but he kept you in place. Far enough to keep himself from sealing your fate in him.

“Hurt me, Joel,” you whispered. “Please.”

That snapped him out of his reverie faster than a bucket of ice water.

His eyes narrowed, brows knitting as he looked at you. He let go of your hair, letting you fall away from him. You stumbled a little, hands dropping from his chest, your own brow furrowing in confusion.

“No,” he shook his head.

But you didn’t stay gone, you were clambering back to him, those kitten hands still needy, clawing and wanting. Your eyes were wild and shining now, lips pressed into a deep line. One hand grabbed his wrist while the other curled around his shoulder, anchoring you to him.

You pushed his hand under the curve of your jaw, “I know you want me,” you begged, eyes burning, lips parting now, “Please, Joel, I’ll be good, I’ll be whatever you want, just please…touch me, hurt me.”

Joel tried to pull away, trying to find the part of himself that still had a grip on this, but you were already kissing him, hot and frantic as you licked the slant of his mouth, hand threading into his thick hair. You clutched at him with such force, as if he might vanish if you didn’t cling to him with everything you had.

He didn’t mean to kiss you back, but he couldn’t help himself. A sound left him as your tongue pushed past his lips, low and guttural and equal in fervor, pulling you into him. He hoisted you up into his arms, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he took hold of you. He was losing this fight, losing his grip on the lie that he could be better, that he could say no, that he could walk away from this and still call himself a good man. That he wasn’t some pervert with a younger girl. He wasn’t he wasn’t he wasn’t—

Your tongues slid against one another, filling the desperate space between your mouths, teeth colliding, your entire body shaking against his. He was overwhelmed with the taste of you, the taste of his beer in your mouth, the warmth of it all. How fucking alive and needy you felt in his arms.

He barely remembered reaching the couch, just that he had you under him, laid out across the cushions like some sort of fever dream. He felt like he was eighteen again, desperate in his ache to have you. Your legs pulled him closer, your hands clawing at his shoulders, his neck, digging into his jaw like you needed him closer.

You arched beneath him, gasping, fingers clutching his shirt at his back.

“More,” you whispered, nearly sobbing it. “Please, Joel—please—I can take it—”

He caught your wrists in his hands, holding them down on either side of your head, not rough, but firm.

“I ain’t gonna hurt you,” he rasped, breathless. “I’m not—I don’t want that—”

“But I do,” you cried, your voice cracking.

Joel stared down at you, chest heaving, and something twisted in him then. A wave of grief, of helplessness, of understanding he didn’t want. You weren’t playing, this wasn’t a game. This wasn’t kink or curiosity or seduction. This was a wound, deep and aching in its bleeding core.

“Baby,” he said softly, “Look at me,”

You paused, breath hitching, chest rising and falling as you looked up at him, eyes glassy with tears. It made his heart cleave in two, the way you looked at him like you didn’t know any other way to be loved. That it could be something else but violent.

“What’s goin’ on?” he asked gently, “Why do you want me to hurt you?”

You looked away, eyes blinking hard. Your mouth trembled like you were about to speak, but the words didn’t come. You just shook your head, like you didn’t know either.

He let go of your wrists slowly, brushing his thumb across the inside of your arm, gentle now. Still between your thighs, but the fire had dimmed into something sad and raw.

“You want me to keep you?” he asked quietly, trying to bring you back. “You wanna be a good girl for me?”

You looked back up at him then, eyes shining, cheeks wet. You nodded, quick and desperate like your whole body needed to say yes.

“Then we’re gonna do it my way,” he said, wiping your cheeks, “Alright? Ain’t gonna hurt you. I’m gonna show you.”

“Show me?” you echoed, voice small, cracking right down the middle.

“That’s right, baby,” he murmured, petting your hair back from your face, his hand cradling the back of your skull. “Show you how good it can be.”

“Okay,” you whispered. He brushed his lips against your eyes, collecting your tears, kissing your lips again gently.

“Gonna be a good listener too?” he asked against them.

You nodded, small and shaky. He could see how tightly your eyes were shut, how your lips trembled beneath his.

You threaded your hands back into his hair, tugging him close again, your mouth open, warm with tears and want, nibbling softly at his lower lip as you kissed him, tasting like salt and surrender.

“Such a pretty thing,” Joel murmured, pulling back just enough to take you in. He sat back on his haunches, hands gliding down the length of your sides, his palms broad and steady. He couldn’t help but admire how good you looked beneath him.

“Gonna take this off, okay?” he whispered, and you nodded as he pinched the hem of your skin tight tank top, peeling it up, revealing more and more of you to the quiet room. He did the same with his own shirt, tossing both pieces aside, not caring where they landed.

Your hands found his chest instantly, fingertips diving into the thick, wiry hair there. Your skin was so soft against his, so warm and open. He shivered.

“You’re so handsome, Joel,” you whispered.

He let out a breath of disbelief, smiling faintly, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. He bent to kiss you again, slower now, deeper. His tongue slipped past your lips, mapping the shape of your mouth, memorizing it. He licked every part he could reach, wanting more and more. Then his mouth began to drift, trailing wet, reverent kisses down the line of your jaw, along your throat, until he reached the edge of your bra. Red, like your nails and your faded lipstick. He wondered briefly if it was your favorite color.

His fingers found the straps, easing them down your shoulders with aching care. He watched your eyes as he did it, saw the way your breath deepened and your pupils darkened, your lips parting as you panted. He pulled the cups down, slow and steady, until your breasts spilled free.

“Look at you,” he said, more to himself, and then he was lowering his mouth, pulling one nipple between his lips, tugging gently with his teeth.

Your jaw dropped, a quiet sound catching in your throat as your hands flew to his hair, holding him there. Your eyes had gone heavy-lidded as you watched him.

“Oh,” you breathed.

Joel groaned softly at the sound, the vibrations humming through his chest. He suckled you gently, unhurried and savoring and letting the soft weight of your breast fill his mouth as his tongue swirled lazy circles over the sensitive peak.

He moved to the other, brushing the soft underside with his nose before taking you in, mouthing at the tender skin with a kind of need he hadn’t felt in years. Maybe ever. You smelled like salt and that sickly sweet perfume, like a summer night. His palm smoothed up your side, fingertips brushing the swell of your ribs, holding the shape of you close.

“You doin’ alright, sweetheart?” he murmured between kisses, letting his mouth drag up the center of your chest.

You nodded, breath shuddering as your hands traveled his body, delicate fingers feeling his shoulders, his arms, his wrists and fingers.

“I like it when you talk,” you whispered. “You have a nice voice.”

He huffed a breath against your sternum. “That so?”

You nodded again, eyes still hooded low and pupils blown wide as he looked at you.

“Mhm, makes me feel…” you trailed off.

“How do you feel, baby? Tell me,” he urged softly.

“Feel good, feel…safe,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. Joel blinked, that word doing more to him than anything else you could’ve said. It rooted him to you, to the moment. It kept him in the soft curve of your hip beneath his palm, the way your lashes brushed your cheeks as you blinked at him.

He smiled at you lightly, kissing down your belly now, your skin trembling as he descended your body. “That’s good, baby,” he assured you, tongue dipping into your navel, making you giggle. He would keep that sound in the back of his head for safe keeping, remember it for days after.

When he reached the waistband of your shorts, he looked up at you, hand already undoing the buckle. You squirmed, fingers flying to help.

“Easy,” he ground out, voice like gravel, a teased warning. You huffed but obeyed, hands retreating to trace over his knuckles as he dragged the zipper down. He kissed between the open denim, right where the little bow on your panties peeked out. That single spot made his mouth water. If he could unhinge his jaw, he’d have swallowed you whole.

He shifted down more, his shoulders bumping your thighs, pulling your shorts down. He kneeled over the side of the sofa to give you room and in one slow, reverent movement, he left you bare beneath him.

He groaned out a sound from deep in his throat before he could stop himself.

“Christ, baby,”

You smiled bashfully at him, your finger going to your mouth, holding your nail between your teeth as your knees bumped together. Your glistening puffy lips pushed together between your legs, until he gently nudged them apart, opening you. He swore he would’ve fallen to his knees if he wasn’t already there.

“Fuck,” he said, kissing the skin of your knee, your inner thigh, leaning his cheek against it.

His fingers came up, pressing into the apex of your thighs, collecting your arousal and spreading it. You gasped something blasphemous as he touched you, as he let his finger gently circle your shining little clit. He felt like he was drooling, his jaw slackening as he watched his fingers play with you. You looked so warm and wet and inviting, clenching and pulsing, needing to be filled.

“Joel—” you begged.

“I know,” he cooed, his eyes, black as yours, finding your gaze, “I know,”

You moaned and squirmed again, and he pulled his hand away to taste you even as you whined at the loss. His eyes rolled back at the taste of you, hunger flashing hot through his body. He couldn’t hold back any longer. He dove into you, head first, tongue hungry, all need and no hesitation. He ate you with slow, dragging strokes, his tongue flattened and curling to catch every drop of you. Your back arched in a perfect curve, your soaked pussy covering his face. He moaned against you, and you answered with breathy little sounds, each one sweeter than the last, like music pressed into his skin.

“Sound so fuckin’ pretty, honey,” he mumbled into your cunt, lips wrapping around your clit, sucking gently.

“Ah—!” you gasped, one hand fisting in his hair. He moved to bring his fingers up, prodding you with just one. He slid it in with ease, feeling you squeeze around him with a hiss.

“Oh my—” your eyes rolled back as he looked up at you, “You’re so—so thick,”

“S’only one finger, baby,” he chuckled, kissing the skin of your thigh, “How we ever gonna get my cock in you, huh?”

“I can take it, I can take it,” you chanted, “want more, Joel, more!”

“What’d I say about doin’ this my way?” he muttered, kissing your hipbone. “Gotta take my time, baby. Gotta open her up for me real gentle. You gonna let me?”

You nodded like your life depended on it.

“That’s my girl,” he praised, voice breaking on the last word as your whole body shivered beneath him.

And fuck, he was aching now. His cock heavy and stiff in his jeans, throbbing at the sight of you spread out and pliant—so ready, so damn pretty, and all his.

His mouth found you again, letting his teeth graze your clit as he slid in a second finger. His eyes never left your face. He watched as sweat beaded at your temples, your mouth parted in a perfect, wet little “o” as you watched him through heavy lids.

You clenched around him, your pussy fluttering as he felt your walls pulse and draw him deeper. He moaned into you, licking firmly, then suckling your clit between his lips, rolling it steadily with his tongue. Your head flew back, the long line of your throat catching in the light, letting out the prettiest yelp of pleasure he might’ve ever heard in his life.

“Oh fuck!” you cried, thighs trembling as you came hard around his fingers. He kept going, groaning against you, taking in every last second of it like it was the first breath after drowning.

When you came back down to earth, gulping in gasps of air, he was still kissing your clit, gentler now. His fingers slipped out of you slowly, careful not to jolt you.

You reached for him with both hands, cupping his face, your nails digging into the scruff at his jaw, “C’mere,” you said softly. He followed you, letting you pull him up and kissed you hard. You moaned into his mouth, tasting yourself as his swollen lips and tongue claimed you there.

“Are you going to fuck me, Joel?” you asked, a little drunk on pleasure.

“That what you want?”

You nodded quickly. “Yes. Please. I need it.”

“Okay, baby,” he murmured, brushing his nose against yours. “Anything for my good girl.”

He stood up, pushed his jeans down his thighs, the denim stiff and dragging, and finally let himself breathe. No boxers. Just him, thick and aching and already leaking a pearl of arousal for you. He caught the way your eyes dropped to it, wide and wonder-filled, the way your breath filling your lungs in a little gasp.

You reached for him, helping him pull down the denim, your fingers finding the length of him immediately, panting like a puppy for him. You leaned up, only wrapping your delicate little fingers around him, that heartbreaker red glistening in the low light of the evening. You tilted your head up at him.

“He’s so pretty, Joel,” you said.

Joel’s stomach flipped at both your words and the contact of your hand moving to brush your thumb over the precum at his tip. He hissed between his teeth, watching your fingers curl around him, barely able to meet at the underside. That sight alone nearly undid him.

His hips twitched in your touch. He reached for your face, thumb swiping along your lower lip. You licked his digit without hesitation, parting your mouth in invitation. He pressed the pad of it against your tongue, slow and firm, pushing until the bend of his hand sat at the corner of your mouth and his fingers cupped the curve of your cheek. Your tongue fluttered, and he felt the moment you almost gagged, throat constricting just enough to make his eyes darken.

He pulled back with a soft hum, dragging his thumb across your lips, spreading your spit there like gloss.

“Think you can take it?” he asked, voice low.

You nodded, lifting your hand to hold his palm to your mouth, nuzzling against him like a kitten again. Tamer now, domesticated.

Your eyes dropped back to his cock, mouth parted and inching toward him with intent, but he caught your scalp in one large palm, tightening just enough to hold your attention.

“Uh-uh,” he tutted. “Not today.”

“But–”

“Don’t start, baby,” he warned, voice like gravel. “Not if you want me to last long enough to fuck you proper. Need to be inside you, need to know how that sweet little pussy feels wrapped around me.”

You kissed the tip of his cock anyway, disobedient little thing, looking at him from under your lashes. It made his vision fuzzy around the edges, melting the shred of control he felt.

He groaned, remembering himself, and sat on the couch in one fluid motion, pulling you into his lap. You squealed, giggling breathlessly at the motion, but he had you steady between the breadth of his hands. His cock throbbed beneath you, so hard it almost hurt, balls drawn tight from how long he’d been aching for you.

He smiled, nuzzling his nose beneath your jaw until you turned to kiss him, lips meeting his slow and deep, your mouth warm and wanting. He guided you lower, your hand wrapping around him again. He groaned at the feel of it, his cock heavy and aching as it notched at your entrance, arousal already dripping around the head of him.

“Gonna take all of me?” he rasped, voice rough with restraint. “Gonna make me proud, baby?”

“Yes, Joel… yes,” you whispered, eyes squeezed tight as you began to sink down on him.

His palm found your cheek, thumb stroking lightly. “Look at me,” he said, breathless, “open those pretty eyes… lemme see ‘em.”

You did. And when your gaze met his, he felt his control fray. You looked so undone, lips parted, brows drawn, tears threatening from the stretch of him inside you. He moaned, the sound caught low in his throat, as you sank down another inch, and then another. Your thighs trembled against his sides, hands clutching his shoulders, and Joel couldn’t take his eyes off you. He could hardly breathe as he watched you take all of him. And when you finally seated yourself all the way, your ass resting against his thighs, Joel’s jaw slackened in ecstasy.

You felt like heaven and sin all at once, velvet and silk and so god damn warm.

“Oh, baby,” he exhaled, kissing the corner of your mouth. “That’s it. Just like that. So good. So tight around me.”

Your nails dug into his shoulders, your arms wrapping around his neck as you clung to him, your chest pressed flush to his. Joel brought his chin to rest between the soft weight of your breasts, brushing his lips along your jaw as you shifted against him. You whined, gasping at the feeling of him opening you.

“I know, baby, I know.” he soothed, “Don’t move just yet—gotta let yourself adjust. Gotta take it slow.”

“But I wanna,” you whined petulantly, a bratty little sound as your hips rolled, slick and insistent, breath warm on his neck.

He wrapped his arms around your back, pulling you in tighter, his voice slipping lower.

“Told me you’d be a good listener, didn’t you?” he murmured, “So listen, baby.”

Then, as if he’d torn free from whatever leash he thought he had on himself, letting that buried, wanton part of him take over, he added—

“Listen to daddy.”

You froze for half a second, and so did he.

Your breath caught, his grip tightened.

And then your hips rolled again, slower this time, steadier, your voice a little dazed.

“Yes, I will, I’ll be good,”

Joel sighed in relief, heart still punching his ribs from the inside.

“Yeah?” he asked, a small smirk pulling at his lips as he kissed the corner of your mouth. “Need daddy to take care of you, huh? That all you wanted, sweet baby?”

You whimpered, nodding into the side of his neck, and he couldn’t help the low groan that escaped him as you clenched around him again.

“Fuck,” he gritted out, holding your hips down so you couldn’t move, keeping you filled to the brim. “That’s it honey, I know, just needed to filled up and taken care of, like a good little girl.”

You were panting above him, your thighs slick with arousal and anticipation. Joel kissed your collarbone, your jaw, your cheek—murmuring quiet, dirty little things between each one as you clenched around him.

“You ready, honey?” he whispered against your ear.

“Yes,” you sighed dreamily.

“Yes?” he asked with a crooked smile. He felt one spread on your lips against his shoulder, and you turned to bite his earlobe.

“Yes, daddy,” you whispered, and the words hit him like a spark to dry kindling, skin lighting up in goosebumps, cock jumping inside you as his blood rushed hot and fast.

“Atta girl,” he said, lifting you slightly, just enough to slide out an inch, then dropped you back onto him. The sound you made was sharp and breathless, like the air had been knocked clean from your lungs. Joel pulled you closer, leaning back into the couch, one hand threaded through your hair, the other curling around your spine.

He started to move, thrusting with even, sawing strokes, letting you just lean into him and take it. Each one was deep and controlled, his cock dragging through every inch of your sweet, wet, addicting center. Your body trembled and beaded with sweat against his, your breath catching on each pass as he filled you again and again. You were so warm and velvety against him, pulling him in deeper, squeezing the life out of him every time he bottomed out.

“How’s that feel, hm?” he murmured, pushing your hair back with gentle fingers before sitting you up to face him.

He was surprised to see tears flowing down your face.

“Baby…” he cooed, stilling his hips. But you let out a helpless breath at the pause, rocking against him in search of friction.

“C’mon, talk to me,” he said, his hand firm at your back to keep you still.

“I just…” you sniffled, voice catching. “I want you—I want—” Another breath. “It feels so good, Joel.”

“Yeah?” he asked, quieter now.

You nodded, tears streaking your cheeks. “I don’t know why I’m crying,” you said, wiping at your face. Mascara smudged under your eyes. “I’ve just never felt like this before.”

Joel kissed your trembling lip, soft and reassuring. His hands never left you, anchoring you in his lap.

“It’s okay, baby. I’m here, I’m gon’ take care of you. Tell me what you need.”

“Don’t want you to stop. Please don’t stop,” you hiccuped. “Even if I cry. Just—hold me. Please.”

He nodded, brows knit as he kissed along your jaw, your chin. “Okay. You sure?”

“I’m begging you,” you whispered. “It feels like heaven, Joel. You feel so good inside me.”

He let you rock your hips, guiding you with a hand at the base of your spine. Your clit caught on the rough thatch of hair at his base, drawing a breathy moan from your lips.

“There we go,” he murmured, voice rough. “How’s that?”

“Perfect,” you breathed.

“Good girl,” he moaned, thrusting up into you again, slow, deep, and steady, "I got you, I got you, take what you need,"

Joel kept one hand on your back and the other cradling the side of your face, thumb brushing under your eye where a fresh tear slipped free. You weren’t sobbing or in hysterics, but the tears kept falling, thick and hot, like your body couldn’t contain the multitude of emotions, like it was breaking open somewhere soft and untouched inside you.

“That’s it,” he whispered. “You feel good, baby? I got you.”

You nodded again, lip caught between your teeth, still trying to keep quiet even as your hips moved with more urgency, chasing the fullness of him. Your hands gripped his shoulders, then his hair, like you didn’t know where to hold on.

“I—” you started again, breath shaking. “I want you, want to be with you, want to feel like this all the time,”

“I know, honey,” Joel murmured, kissing your cheek, your temple, the corner of your mouth. “I know. And you can, I’m right here, gonna keep you, gonna show you how good you are.”

You moaned louder when his hips rolled up to meet yours, slow and deep. His cock hit that spot inside you and he felt you flutter around him.

“There she is,” he praised, voice low, lips brushing yours. “Look at you, takin’ me so good. You’re so pretty like this.”

Your hands found his chest, nails curling into him as he fucked up into you. He kept it deep and measured, taking his time with you, letting you feel every inch of him that burned for you, that ached and needed. And maybe one day he’d give in to all of it, that hunger to take you hard and fast and leave you marked and shaking. But not tonight. Not when you were looking at him like that, when your brain and your body needed to be shown softness, gentleness.

He wanted to show you something else. That you didn’t need bruises to feel wrecked. That it could be slow, and warm, and still ruin you completely. That he could be that for you.

His nose nudged yours, voice barely more than breath. “She’s close, I feel her chokin’ me, feel how much she loves it.”

You mewled, your thighs beginning to tremble around him. “So close. Joel—please—”

“I know, sweetheart, I know. I got you. You’re doin’ so good. Yeah, that’s it.”

His arms wrapped around your back, holding you tight to him, guiding your rhythm as he fucked up into you just a little harder, a little deeper, dragging those moans out of you with every pass. Tears clung to your lashes again. Your mouth hung open, eyes unfocused, your hands clinging to him like you’d fall apart without him to hold onto.

Joel stared up at you, undone by the sight. Every time you rocked down onto him, every time your body gripped him like that, he felt it deeper. Felt something in him start to fray.

“Christ,” he breathed. “Look at you.”

His hand slid to your cheek, thumb brushing the edge of your lips.

“You’re takin’ me so good, baby. So fuckin’ pretty like this. Makin’ me proud, sweet girl.”

You moaned and panted, head tipped back in a mix of agony and pleasure, “I’m gonna—oh god—I’m gonna—”

“That’s it, baby. Let go. Let me feel ‘er. Come for me, sweet girl, gooood girl—there you go—oh, fuck—”

You cried out, body clenching down around him, your thighs tightening as your orgasm crashed over you hard and electrifying. Joel held you through it, kissing your face, your neck, rocking into you. Your walls clenched and fluttered around him, pulling him in deeper, squeezing him like you needed him deeper, milking every last bit of him. It scrambled his thoughts, popped them like fizz in his chest.

“Oh fuck that’s so—” he groaned, head falling back onto the back of the sofa, “so fuckin’ pretty,”

You returned to him, kissing his jaw as you came down from your high, dazed and breathless, your lips trailing to his throat, to the thrum of his pulse. Your tongue flicked there, tasting the salt and skin, and Joel let out a strangled sound. He gripped your hips hard, rocking into you, his cock pulsing, twitching deep inside, thick ropes of his spend coating your walls, leaking down between you as his whole body tensed and strained. His mind went white around the edges, like all he could feel or think about was you.

He stayed there through it, and eventually his panting turned to a soft, easy sigh and he tilted his head up to look at you with a lazy smile on his face.

Bringing a hand to your face, he brought you down to him to kiss your temple once, then again, then your cheek and your jaw. Soft, aimless kisses like he didn’t want to stop touching you, like he couldn’t.

“You okay?” he murmured into your hair, his voice low, still wrecked from everything he’d just felt.

You nodded against him, slow and a little dazed, your fingers weaving into his hair. The curls behind his ears were damp with sweat, soft between your fingertips. He didn’t move, just let you touch him. Let you stay.

Joel exhaled and pressed his nose to your hair, breathing you in. The room had gone quiet now, save for the soft sound of your breaths mingling. His cock was still tucked deep inside you, softening, but still thick with presence, the warmth between you both beginning to fade.

“How about I start you a bath, hm?” he said softly. “Get you cleaned up. That sound okay, baby?”

You leaned in, placing your lips against his. Not even a kiss, just a gentle press, in the shape of one, soft and plush and lingering. Joel kissed you back with the same careful slowness, like he didn’t want to startle whatever fragile thing was unfolding between you.

Then, his voice came quieter than before. “You can… stay here. If you want.”

He felt it the moment the words landed. The way your body stilled, the shift behind your eyes. Not a flinch, exactly, but something close. Like a thread inside you had pulled too tight, stretched too far.

You inhaled the tiniest gasp, gaze dropping down, retreating into yourself. He saw it, saw the question in your eyes, saw the moment of uncertainty. And for one awful second, he wondered if he’d broken whatever this was, if he’d asked for too much.

But you didn’t move. You just sat there, caught in the space between something old and something new.

Joel watched you, silent and waiting, even as his heart started to ache with the fear that you’d pull away. He knew that look. The kind of quiet panic that wasn’t about him, not really, but about what came after. About what it meant to be wanted and not just… used. To be safe and not trapped.

He didn’t rush you, he let the quiet stretch as his thumbs softly brushed over your skin in wait.

And then you looked up at him slowly, studying him. Your fingers brushed through his hair again, slower this time, thinking. You combed it back, tracing the lines of his face with your eyes like you were memorizing something.

Joel let you. His eyes never left yours.

He saw the flicker of something in your expression—fear, maybe, or hope. Maybe both.

Then your hand paused at the back of his neck.

“Okay,” you whispered, so quiet it barely reached him.

His heart kicked hard in his chest. He slid his hand to your nape, curling his fingers gently there, pulling you in for another kiss, this one deeper, but still sweet and soft.

“You won’t ever have to do anything you don’t want to,” he murmured against your mouth. “You don’t have to stay if it feels too much.”

“I want to,” you whispered.

Joel closed his eyes, and you leaned down to press your forehead to his.

“Let me take care of you,” he said, voice so full of quiet emotion it ached.

You nodded, your nose brushing his.

Joel kissed you one more time, a little peck, a little check in. It didn’t need to be some grand gesture or heart filled confession just yet, no explanation of everything you’d seen and everything he’d done. He knew that. Knew it would come, when you were ready. When he could finally let himself believe you might actually want to stay.

He exhaled like he’d been holding it for years, something heavy easing in his chest as he shifted beneath you. His hands slid under your thighs and he rose carefully from the couch, cradling you close to his chest.

“Alright,” he whispered. “Let’s get you in that bath.”

don't talk to me for 7-10 business days this ruined me and IM THE ONE WHO WROTE IT

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #x reader #joel miller tlou #tlou #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us joel miller #joel miller smut #the last of us fanfic #joel tlou #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff

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materia-girl88 · 14 days ago

Text

I Wanna Take You There

18+, minors dni

During a hot and heavy makeout session Bucky finds out you've never had an orgasm. He's dead set on changing that🫶🏻

not me posting about being in a funk then immediately thinking of this😭i feel like it's not great but i hope you all enjoy

Bucky knew just how to drive you crazy.

Whether it was with his smart mouth and comments or his kisses or how his hands explored the curves of your waist, he could have you blushing in a moments time.

You had been dating for about a month now. You couldn't ask for a better boyfriend. He was a perfect gentleman, leaving his hoodies on your bed to wear when it was cold and preparing your jasmine tea for you when you're curled up by the window reading a book.

He also knew how to drive you wild with just a kiss.

"Your lips are like heaven, doll," he muttered from where he supported himself above you, both of your lips slick and plump from the heated exchange.

He was supporting himself up above you with your thighs, clad in only the sleep shorts you wore while sleeping over in his room the night before, were framing his hips. All he wore was a pair of sweats that rested low on his waist, his torso bare.

You grinned against him.

"And you're an angel," you told him before kissing him again, your hands resting on his stubbled cheeks.

You could feel his chest pressing against yours, the only barrier being one of his large shirts that you had slept in. Your bra had been thrown onto his lounge chair when you went to her the night before. The heat of his broad chest pressed to your breasts through the shirt, stimulating your nipples.

He let out a rough sound at the feeling of the peaked buds, his vibranium arm moving to slide his hand to the mound of your breast, cupping it through the fabric, the cold causing you to gasp.

He had never been more grateful that the arm was made with sensors that could feel you, the warmth of your breast and the way your nipple was pebbled against his palm.

"Bucky!" you gasped out against his lips, your hand coming to cover his. He pulled back a bit to look in your eyes, searching for any hesitation or fear.

All he saw was desire bleeding through the warmth of your gaze.

His thumb and forefinger enclosed around your nipple and he switched between pinching it and rolling it between his fingers.

You mewled beneath him, pushing yourself up into his hand for more.

Bucky's lips met yours again, wasting no time in meeting you with his tongue. You reciprocated easily, tongues brushing and breaths panting as he continued to tease you.

"More.." you whispered to him, hand coming down to tug your top up but he stopped you before you could remove it completely.

"Keep it on, doll. I wanna wreck you while you wear my shirt. You look so fucking good."

You let the bunched up shirt rest just above your breasts, your bare tits presented to him.

You were nervous. This was the furthest the both of you had gone. But you wanted it, knowing he would take care of you.

"I want you, Buck." you mumbled, cheeks red as you maintained eye contact.

Bucky froze for a moment before raising up on his knees look to over your body, spread out and waiting.

He took a shaky breath, his warm flesh hand coming to rest on your hip, thumb tracing the waistband of your shorts, "Are you sure?"

You wasted no time in assuring him, nodding quickly as you gazed at him, "I'm sure. I want you."

Bucky's jaw clenched and he wasted no time in bringing his other hand to your waistband to join the first one.

"Can I take these off?"

You nodded, lifting your hips and helping him shimmy the fabric down your thighs before he pulled them off, tossing them towards the chair your bra rested on. Neither of you cared to look and see if they landed on the chair or the floor.

You stared up at him, eyes wide and dark with want, tits out below his pushed up shirt and your gray panties on display. There was a distinct wet patch on the crotch of them and Bucky groaned at the sight.

"What do you want, doll? Tell me what you like? What makes you come?" he pled, hands coming to rest on your spread thighs as his eyes roamed.

And there it was.

You gulped down your hesitation, biting your lip. You wished you'd told him before things got crazy, but it was too late now.

"I..I don't know," you muttered and his face twisted a bit in confusion.

"What do you mean?" he asked and you couldn't help but cover your face with your hands to hide your embarrassment.

"I mean I've never come before, Bucky. I've never had an orgasm." you wanted to crawl into a hole and hide away but there was no doing that when the large man between your legs pulled your hands away.

"Baby, are you a vir-?" "No! God, no," you whined and you didn't think anything could top this, "I just never had sex with anyone who..put in the effort, you know? It was mostly just in, out and done."

Bucky was quiet, still as he watched you for a moment.

"Not even by fingering you? Eating you out?" he asked, hands rubbing your legs reassuringly.

"Not by fingering. It was never really good enough to get me there. And nobody's ever done..the second thing." you admitted.

And that was just blasphemy to him.

"Nobody's ever gone down on you? Never tasted you?" he asked as if it was a sin. And to him, it was.

You shook your head, figuring you were already in this deep. May as well get all of the embarrassing shit out of the way now.

"I've only dated two other guys before you and neither of them wanted to. Said it was gross," you said, voice quiet.

A low growl like sound rumbled in Bucky's chest.

"Darling, I can assure you it isn't gross."

He leaned back down from where he kneeled between your legs to kiss you, and you didn't hesitate in kissing him back.

"Can I do it? I wanna go down on you, doll. Wanna eat this pretty pussy until you're a mess for me," he asked, and you swallowed down your nerves before nodding.

It was like cutting loose a thread holding him back. His hands immediately went to your panties and never even gave you a chance to help get them off, ripping them to shreds. He was ravenous now, eager to show you just how badly he wanted you.

"Bucky, those were new!" you yelped as you became bare beneath him, trying to close your legs just enough to hide your wet cunt.

"Don't care. I'll buy you some in every color if you want," he huffed before shuffling down the bed. His hands came to your thighs to hold them open, not wanting you to hide away from them.

He looked about ready to faint at the sight of your glistening folds, his usually bright blue eyes nearly black with desire.

"Fuck, look at you. You're so pretty, baby." he mumbled, sliding your legs over his shoulders. His lips met the inside of your thigh and soon he was trailing kisses up, up, up until he reached where you were soaked for him.

The shudder your body gave when his tongue made its first pass over you caused him to clamp his hands on your hips to keep you still.

"Bucky," you whimpered as he made another pass, unable to stop the jolt your body made when his tongue passed over your clit. The little bundle of nerves wasn't used to the sensation. But soon, it would be. Bucky would make sure of that.

"You taste like honey, doll. You're better than any dessert. I could live between your legs," he mumbled before moving up to press a firm kiss to your clit, sucking it between his lips after.

Your hips began to rock in time with the sucks he gave you and he allowed it but he also kept his hands on you in case you lost control.

Your fingers were tangled in his dark hair as you moved with him, the whimpers and noises you were producing made you glad the walls of the tower were soundproof.

His tongue was making rounds between your clit and your entrance, dipping inside before trailing up to make a circle around the bud and heading back down.

Bucky's face was soaked, his beard glistening and lips red with the effort. When he pushed his tongue into you, his nose would nudge your clit. He was driving you crazy.

But the best part cake when he brought his hand, the flesh one, down between your thighs to help. His vibranium arm slid to hold you down like a vice over your hips and you loved knowing that there may be bruises left behind from the metal against your hip bones. You wanted Bucky to mark you.

"Yes, please," you whined when his finger ran through some of your arousal, collecting it to soak it and make the initial push easier.

Your eyes squeezed shut with the unbearable pleasure, head tilting back. Bucky couldn't keep his eyes off you, off your stretched out body and your pretty tits with your pink nipples.

His metal hand rose, cupping the opposite breast from earlier as he ate at you, giving it the same treatment it's twin received earlier.

When Bucky's finger found the fleshy spot inside you, he began thrusting his finger into it, pummeling the pleasure into it and causing you to let punched out little breaths at the feeling.

Soon, a tingling began in your spine and your tummy began to clench, feeling as if a ball was forming.

"B-Bucky, something's happening, I-I think I'm gonna.." you tried to get out, and he gave a devious grin before he leaned in and pulled your clit back between his lips, sucking at it as his fingers continued to thrust into your sweetest spot.

The feeling rose and rose, your body straining as you were unable to handle it before finally, it was like a band snapped within you. The tingling spread over your body as a feeling of euphoria washed over you.

"O-Oh.." you let out, slumping back onto the bed. Bucky continued his sucking until you were too overstimulated to keep going, your body shaking as you tried to push him away.

He pulled back, licking your juices off his lips before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

You didn't care that he tasted of your arousal as you pulled him to you, kissing him firmly.

"You taste so good, darling. Nothing compares to it," he muttered against your lips, "Those other guys were idiots. But it's better for me. I'm glad to have been the first one to give you that feeling."

You bit your lip, eyes searching his. You could feel the hard length of his cock in his sweats. The fabric was nudging your thigh where he rested between them once more.

"I want more, Bucky. I want you to fuck me," you whispered, trailing a hand down his warm torso.

His eyes widened a bit when you cupped his cock through the fabric.

"Please?" you asked, hand beginning to stroke slowly. There was a wet patch in the fabric already where he had leaked a bit of precome. Your thumb found where the wet patch was and below it was the head of his cock.

He gritted his teeth, want showing in his eyes as he leaned back, his hands coming to pull his sweats off.

You leaned up to help him, eyes wide at the sight of his length. He wasn't overly long but he was thick, with veins on each side and the tip red with need.

You looked up at him, eyes focused on his as you licked your palm, wrapping around him to stroke again.

His eyes shut for just a minute as his nostrils flared. You loved how worked up you could get him.

"I want this in me, Buck. Please? I need to feel you," you told him. And who was he to deny you?

He pushed you to lay back once more, your hand leaving him. He took himself in his grasp, moving his hand slowly along himself.

"We don't have condoms," he said and you grinned, showing him the little scar on your arm.

"Implant. We're safe," you said and he groaned, breaking through his will.

He nudged your thighs wide and rested his cock against your soaked pussy.

He used his hand to help him grind the length between the folds, getting him wet and teasing you at the same time. The head of his cock would bump your clit with each thrust and before long it had you twitching, moaning below him once more as you became more and more aroused.

He slapped the head of his cock on your hard little clit one, two, three times before you were pleading.

He slid it down to notch at your entrance and after making sure to make eye contact with you one more time, he began to push in.

You couldn't breathe, your jaw dropped as the air wooshed out of you. He was stretching you open so well, more than either of your previous boyfriends could dream of.

"God, you're so tight," he ground out through clenched teeth, "Feel so good around my cock, baby."

You couldn't help but cling to him, legs winding around his waist and arms sliding to grasp at his shoulders.

"Bucky, you're so big. Please move," you whimpered and he obliged, pulling out so just the tip of him remained before he pushed back in.

You both moaned into each other's mouths and soon, he had set a furious pace.

The room was heady with the smell of sex and all that could be heard besides the moaning was the clicking sound your arousal made as he fucked you, your juices forming a white ring around the base of him, and his balls smacking into the meat of your ass.

The bed was rocking against the wall and you could hear little cracking noises every now and then, but you weren't sure if it was the bedframe or the wall.

Oh well. that was something to figure out another time from now.

"Yes, Buck! Yes, please!" you whined, nails scratching him as he fucked into you.

"You're a good girl for me, aren't you doll? So good on my cock."

Before long you felt the ball of pleasure tightening within you again and you began to squirm below him.

"Ah, ah, ah..." you moaned out with each thrust.

Bucky's balls were right and you could tell he was holding back. You licked your own fingers to reach down and touch yourself but he smacked your hand away with a gruff "Mine!" and took your place.

Within the first few seconds of him rubbing your clit, you were done for. You cried out, quivering as you came for a second time. It was like fireworks setting off inside you and you feel euphoric.

Soon, Bucky came too, groaning out as his balls clenched, emptying himself inside you.

You hummed at the warm feeling, clenching your inner walls around him to milk for everything you could, before he finally collapsed beside you.

He pulled you to lay on him and you rested on his panting chest. You pressed a kiss just above his heart.

"You did so good, darling," he told you as you laid on him. His fingers trailed up and down, up and down and for a while time passed with you two pausing every few hours to fuck again and again.

Needless to say, you had orgasms pretty often after that.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #james bucky buchanan barnes #marvel smut

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ikeukiss · 24 days ago

Text

DARE ME TO

〔 𝒾 〕 Your best friend told you her brother was off limits years ago, and that should have been the end of it. But feelings, especially reciprocated ones, don't die, not when you're going to be in close proximity for a week.

𝐬𝐢𝐦 𝐣𝐚𝐞𝐲𝐮𝐧 𝓍 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 11.7K ⋮ 18+ ⋮ angst, fluff, smut, best friend's (younger) brother!jake, forbidden attraction au, college au, alcohol use, feat! heeseung, dry humping, clit play, body worship, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie ᯤ 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗈: new emotion — the aces, do you think about me — lahar, boys like you — who is fancy, starving — hailee steinfeld, butterfly rain — tori templet, i'm not in love — emily james, dive — ed sheeran, ready set go — bnza, shooting star — muna, say it again —frances

⌗ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ── Nobody ever really does female best friend's sibling and I wanted to for this because Jake is clearly my muse and I'm obsessed, so here we go! Bless all my friends who read the story before its release— @tinycatharsis, @lovetaroandtaemin @xylatox @xomakara @aeristudios @hannieoftheyear and @frenchkisstheabyss—because they kept me going to post it! I love you all so much, thank you. I hope you guys enjoy!

There are two things you are certain of in this life. Sim Jaemin, Jamie to those who know her best, will always be your dearest friend, and she is relentless in getting what she wants.

Jamie pushed herself to learn tennis all on her own at nine, simply because she found Serena Williams incredibly attractive wielding a racket like a sword. She decided in middle school to make you her best friend, even as she was an opinionated, bouncy thirteen-year-old that made you, a girl who still hid behind her lunchbox, feel intimidated to no end. She convinced her parents to take in the neighbor's dog at sixteen when the old couple decided to leave the beautiful pup behind. "Layla is too cute to just go to anyone!" The pout she threw, perfectly curved with the cupid's bow of an angel, made every single person in the family cave without another word. Jake needed little persuasion; her little brother was always fond of animals. Still is.

Then, she got older, and more reasonable demands came to the forefront.

"I don't want you ruining our friendship by liking my brother." When she said this on the verge of your first year of university, it was the furthest thing from your mind. Tuition paperwork, scholarship applications, and the freshman fifteen was all you could focus on back then. Even as you watched Jake, on the tail-end of junior year, swim a few laps in the family's pool.

"One, he's too young for me. Two, you're worth more than a crush, as if I had one." Your arguments convinced her because it was true. You did not like Sim Jaeyun. You would barely look his way if he didn't have familial ties he shared with your best friend, although he was always friendly and funny to you. Yet, that was the intention: a younger brother, annoying, yet well-behaved.

He crosses your mind now and then, some photos he shares with Jamie popping up on your feed when she goes to her parents for visits without you, leaving you behind in your shared dorm room to doomscroll and avoid the problems awaiting at home. She's beautiful, bright, magnanimous in personality.

It's no coincidence her brother shares the same level of allure.

Now, he lingers on your mind as your hands clench the steering wheel. You and Jamie always went home for spring break, tradition the strongest facet of the Sim family. As Jake is also on his way home for his first spring break since starting college, his soccer scholarship keeping him plenty busy, you wonder how the dynamic between all of you—three full-fledged adults—will change. You're not much older than each other. Two years separate you girls from the only boy in the Sim household, but Jamie has always been smaller than her brother; the youngest sprouted like a tree when he reached high school. You, you're just short because of the universe's sarcastic design.

"Are you even listening? I'm baring my soul here about Chungha and you're too busy lost in thought!" Jamie cries, throwing an arm over her eyes for a dramatic flare.

You chuckle. "I'm actually too busy driving the car, asshole," you note with a quirked eyebrow. "Anyway, I thought your broken heart was because of Seungcheol."

"That was two months ago! This is now! She was supposed to Facetime me last night about her plans for the break, but never did. She hates me now, it's official."

Just because Jamie is headstrong doesn't mean she's prone to being realistic.

You sigh. "Her phone probably died. And we left pretty early this morning. I bet she'll text you as soon as she gets up today."

She nods, whining but agreeing. "I don't know what I'd do without you. I'd have lost my head by now."

Laughing, you make another turn. The street the Sim family house resides on comes into clear view, birch trees and tulip bushes welcoming you like an old friend coming back from a long trip off to faraway lands. You breathe easy, already feeling more at home here than anywhere else, including your parent's place twenty minutes away.

You always tell them you're too busy to visit, even during the occasional weekend off from exams and term papers. It's too hard to watch them bicker and pick you apart like they've done since you were small. At Jamie's, with her parents and Jake, you don't feel like an outsider intruding with every eggshell you stumble upon. You're safe, content, fearless.

When you see her parents at the front door, ready to welcome you both with warm hugs, you're reminded of the peace they provide. There's no need to act formal, not anymore. Not when they've seen you through all of your formative years with more kindness than your own family has ever provided.

"There they are!" Jamie's dad, Yongjin, exclaims. He pulls Jamie into a bear hug as Jihyun, her mother, wraps her arms around you.

You drop your bags on the doorstep, embracing Jihyun fully. She smells like rosemary and plum, with hints of book pages. No other scent can replicate it. "Let me look at you," she says as she plants both hands on either side of your face. "Have you been eating? You look pale."

You nod, grinning. "Just wanted to wait until we got here to dig in. Besides, I know there's braised pork waiting for us on the counter."

Her face scrunches up as she smiles and pats your cheek. "Nothing gets past you, huh, ladybug? Let's go inside then! I know you girls are hungry."

Your old nickname used to drive you crazy. But you'll always hold a special place for it, especially when Jihyun says it with every ounce of love she possesses.

"Where's Jake, dad? Still on his way?" Jamie asks as she drops her bag in the hallway.

"He's in the pool. He actually got in last night. Practice was canceled last minute, so he came straight here." Yongjin coughs as he picks up both of your bags, heading upstairs to drop them off in your respective rooms. "Bring the rascal in for lunch, won't you?"

"Not before your daughter helps with setting out the plates!" Jihyun turns to Jamie with a smirk. Your best friend rolls her eyes but runs to the kitchen without a word of protest. Jamie may get what she wants, but she knows to follow a parental order like holy scripture.

Jihyun turns her smile on you. "Ladybug, go bring in Jake, please?"

You nod, walking toward the glass doors leading to the backyard area. You open one slowly, taking in the surrounding sunshine that bathes the pool in an ethereal glow. The spirit of the Sim house extends to every corner, including the water you've swum in a thousand times.

Before you can even call out to him, Jake's moving out of the pool and leaning down to grab his towel from the beach lounger. Once he sees you, his expression changes from intense focus to his usual softness. His shoulders slack like any pressure he was carrying disintegrates, his face contorting in the same way with a cheery grin and raised eyebrows. His wet hair swipes across his face like a mop, but you could recognize him anywhere.

A pregnant pause sits between you both, and you’re unsure why. Maybe it’s because Jake looks different from the last time you saw him that week in August, before he left with the wrecked nerves of an incoming freshman. He was scrawny, not a muscle on him except for the ones he gained from soccer—which weren't that many because of his stature—with braces that carried him through his teenage years like a backpack. Now, he’s all white teeth and chiseled abs, body confidently glistening under the rays of sunlight.

You’ve been the same appearance-wise for years, but Jake looks at you like you’ve gone through a metamorphosis only he can see. It makes your cheeks bloom a shade deeper than you're used to, but you try to brush the feeling off. It means nothing, can mean nothing.

“You’re early,” he says finally.

"Wanted to miss all the traffic," you reply, hands splayed out on your thighs. "I'd hug you, but…you know."

Jake takes that suggestion as a dare, lips pursing in a suggestive pout. He runs before you can take the hint, grabbing you between his biceps and immediately squeezing you against his wet skin as you squeal. "When has that ever stopped me, ladybug?"

Despite his soaked form and the small distance he puts between you both when he's satisfied he's greeted you properly, he's still radiating a warmth that cuts through the decorum you thought was still necessary to use with him more than anyone else in the family. It might be the reason he's so eager to thaw it out immediately. He can recognize in that instant your nerves from being away for so long are the cause.

But there's no reason to be formal. You're still the same girl who cried trying to save the insect you're lovingly nicknamed after during a thunderstorm. You've detested the bleak weather ever since, and sometimes the term of endearment too, and he knows that.

He knows so many things about you, more than you want to admit.

"C'mon kiddos, the food's getting cold!" Jake's dad calls from inside the house, and Jake immediately takes the cue to jog inside, leaving you standing there, slightly damp and confused.

He turns back at the archway of the glass doors, a smile framing his face. You turn just as he asks, "You coming?"

This break may be harder than you expected it to be.

You throw stones from the garden floor and across the lush field in front of you, tears streaming down your face as the sun blares above. It's too bright today for how terrible your heartbreak feels.

Almost 500 miles between two universities was enough for Taeyong to call it quits. As if a year of dating didn't matter in that instant when your ex had to come face to face with the unknown. You were willing to brave it, to see if your love could survive long-distance, but he obviously wasn't. "Be realistic," he said a few hours ago, feigning false pain.

You couldn't bear to stay in your own house, your parents' judgemental eyes staring you down in a way that made you keep all your anguish inside. A trip over the fence to the Sim house wasn't a tough feat when everything else felt insurmountable.

And there you are, sitting near Jamie's mother's prize roses and hating everything they represent. Love, passion, desire. It's all for show; none of it is true when the harsh realities come around the corner. Taeyong and your parents proved that.

Out of the blue, Jaeyun appears in soccer attire not meant for JV players. You hide your face from him in that second, trying to avoid the mirage of questions he'll throw at you if he sees your red-rimmed eyes. "Climbed over again, huh?" he asks, a joke you can't take interjected in his voice.

You nod, shoulders steeled and windpipe tight. "Didn't feel like staying home right now. Gonna tell me to go back?"

Jake raises his arms in defense. "No, I mean—I don't mind. Would've seen you later, anyway." He moves to sit next to you, crossing his legs in the dirt and splaying his arms behind his back.

"You're home late," you realize. The sunset brews under the clouds, seven o'clock a few minutes away.

Jake chuckles again, the sound light and unbelieving. "I was actually trying out for varsity," he confesses. "I got it."

You wipe your subsequent tears away, focusing on your friend and his achievement. He's always wanted to play with the bigger guys at school, and you won't let such success go understated. "That's amazing! Does Jamie know yet?"

He shakes his head, blushing suddenly. "You're the first person I've told."

"Wow," you say. "Sim Jaeyun, soccer prodigy, letting me be the first to know? I'm honored."

He knocks your shoulder with his own, saying nothing verbally. His smile says enough. "Gonna tell me what's bothering you now?"

You sigh, the sadness bubbling back up. "Taeyong dumped me. Said going to schools so far away from each other is too much to handle." You throw another rock, anger suddenly replacing the misery you walked into the garden with. "Fuck him."

"Yeah. He doesn't know a good thing when he has it." Jake says it like he's afraid it'll mean more than what it does on the surface, his voice low and tentative. Is it out of his depth to say something like that to you, his older sister's best friend? He doesn't know, but it felt right to say.

You laugh sadly and run your fingers through the grass. "I just gotta move forward. Spend the summer focused on me, you know?"

Jake nods and knocks his shoulder into yours once again. "Come on, let's take a dip in the pool. It always makes you feel better." He motions to the house behind him. "Go borrow one of Jamie's swimsuits, yeah?"

You grin at his suggestion. He always makes the worst times better somehow, a ray of sunshine that isn't blinding to the eye. It's welcoming and soothing, a salve on a day you thought was hopeless. "Sure."

As you head upstairs, Jake's mom smiling at you both as you run past the kitchen, you think about the way you can float with all of them rather than sink.

The memory washes over you as you stare at the same patch of grass from that day, reminiscent with a smile on your face, thankful nobody can see it under the cover of night.

"Earth to my best friend! There's tequila that's going to waste over here," Jamie says as she hands you another shot. She's careful to avoid dropping it into the pool thanks to the mirage of garden lights around your spot. The both of you sit on the edge with your toes in the water, teasing the idea of slipping in with the two boys already wading around in the water. "Chungha ghosted me and I need your unwavering support right now."

"It'll never go to waste on you, JJ," Heeseung, Jake's best friend, flirts with Jamie as he floats past you both. "And whoever that girl is is clearly a dipshit."

Lee Heeseung stayed local for his college experience, but he's always remained close to Jake and the Sim family in the same way you have, except he and Jake grew up together from primary school and on. And as far as Jamie goes, he'll be damned if he stops trying to get her to take a chance on him one day, despite every rejection she's delivered with a loving middle finger in his face.

Jamie kicks some water at him before downing another few ounces of liquor. "Thank you but if that's another covert shooting of your shot, no thanks, pal."

Heeseung scoffs playfully as you giggle. "Anyway, since we have an appropriate beverage for it…" he says just in time for Jake to swim over from his usual corner near the hot tub. "Let's play Never Have I Ever, shall we?"

You all roll your eyes, but you don't object. Anything to ramp up the chill session by the pool; your spring break is already too lackadaisical at this point.

"Never have I ever stolen candy from Jungwon's parents' convenience store."

All of you take the shots with ease. The poor kid always knew when you and Jamie were bagging an extra candy bar in your purse or pockets, but batting your eyelashes in his direction was enough for him to look the other way. "Boys," Jamie said once, "are too predictable."

Jake begins his turn with, "Never have I ever used my parent's car without them knowing," as he pours drinks for everyone, only for Jamie to sip hers in that instant.

She raises a hand to speak her mind, and you giggle into your shot, downing it in time before the liquid can trickle down your chin. "In my defense, Mom decided to change her mind at the last second. I just stuck to the original promise she made." She turns to you. "When did you hijack yours?"

"One time when I wanted to go to Taeyong's house. I was back the next morning before they could realize it was gone."

"Asshole," Jamie and Jake mutter simultaneously, to which Jamie poses the question to her brother, "What would you know about him besides his stats, dipshit? And you're the one who played on the same team as him, like a traitor."

"Not at the same time!" Jake yells, offended. "Besides, even if we did, I would've never passed the ball to that douchebag."

Heeseung chuckles. The sound holds some type of knowledge neither you nor Jamie are privy to, but Jake looks at his friend with a death stare. You want to dissect the interaction further, but you guys pass over questions and drinks quickly after that. The tequila blurs your inhibitions as you fall into more teasing banter and laughter. Finally, your trip is getting fun.

"Alright, my turn again," Heeseung says. He pours another set of shots before he declares, "Never have I ever had a crush on someone in this circle."

The posed statement sinks into your gut like a stone; any chance of excitement for the night is gone. Your buzz disappears as soon as the last word falls from Heeseung's lips.

He immediately gulps down his drink, smiling the whole time. "Oh shoot," he says with his devious smirk pointed in Jamie's direction. "Sorry, love."

"Still never gonna happen, pipsqueak," Jamie responds with a slur, the edges of her statement warbled by the alcohol.

What you don't expect is for Jake to take his shot at the same time you do. You both stare at each other over the rims of the tiny glasses. Your faces turn crimson, a mutual understanding passing by in a flash.

Never in your dreams did you expect Jake would also harbor a crush on you. It's been years for you, so long ago you forgot the shape of it until you were in his presence again. But the revelation he also held those emotions at some point makes the stone in your chest strengthen in size, the new information befuddling you.

When did it start? Was it around the same time as you? Does he still feel that way? You ruminate on the quick questions for only a second, knowing none of the answers matter. Jamie would've never allowed it anyway, and still wouldn't. And she's more important.

A pregnant pause lies between you and Jake, even as Heeseung sputters out a shocked laugh and Jamie drinks another shot just for fun.

"Oh damn," he says, "guess we're learning a lot about each other tonight, huh?"

"Shut up, Hee," Jake mutters. He slams the empty glass down near your thigh, and the sudden brush of his hand as he pulls back makes you tingle.

It's from the tequila, you tell yourself with bated breath. Nothing else, nothing at all.

"Yeah, shut up! 's a stupid game anyway," Jamie explains as she stands up. Her body buckles with the equilibrium change, and Jake immediately jumps from the pool to help her regain her balance. "I'm fine, Ikeu!"

That's the tell. She never uses her childhood nickname for Jake unless she's drunk. You smile to yourself and stand up as well, using the sobriety Jamie doesn't have now to help her brother.

Heeseung remains in the pool as you and Jake take Jamie upstairs to sleep it off, wading around again like a baby who hasn't upended all of their bathwater. Your best friend insists she's fine on the trek upstairs, but the way she leans into you both says otherwise.

Jake tucks the bedsheets to her chin, handling her as she thrashes around with a sequence of grumbles spilling from her lips. "Ikeu, let me go to sleep," Jamie mumbles. You laugh to yourself at the state of your best friend as she babbles nonsense. She'll be mopey and hungover tomorrow, but you'll handle that when it comes.

You close the door to her room behind you, shaking your head. "She's gonna act like a kicked puppy in the morning, I know it."

Jake laughs. "And yet she still insists she's not a lightweight. Or, at the very least, a mid-weight with how much of that bottle she drank."

You agree, nodding with a smile. Silence rushes in, the uncertainty of what to say next sitting between you both like a piece of glass you're terrified to break. Do you mention what happened just a few minutes ago in the pool, or let it go? And, more importantly, what does Jake want to do?

Jake coughs quietly, his cheeks flushed. "I should get back to Heeseung. Make sure his drunk ass doesn't drown."

You nod again, bashful. "Yeah. I gotta wash off all this chlorine, anyway."

As you both go to walk in separate directions, you heading to your room and Jake going back downstairs, your fingertips brush. It's the smallest movement, inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, but the spark that was ignited when he touched your thigh comes back, as all-consuming as it was then.

"See you tomorrow," Jake says over his shoulder, not turning back as he walks down the first few steps, but you can tell he's smiling. Somehow, you always know. You reply with your own acknowledgement, heart hammering as you open and close your door.

That night, you dream of his hand in yours, the liquid courage giving you the right amount of boldness to tell him you want to keep holding it for as long as you can.

"You think you'll make it out of the storm in one piece?" you ask into your phone, walking around the guest room as you listen to Jamie's frustration over the quick food run now halted by the terrible weather. The supermarket bustle muffles Jamie's voice, her words practically passing through a tin can.

"Pretty sure, but the damn car is parked too far. My parents want to wait until it settles down rather than walk into a tsunami, as if I still don't have a headache kicking my ass." You picture her rubbing her temples while she talks, exasperated but with nobody to blame but herself for last night's escapades. "Be glad you don't have to experience their terrible fruit and vegetable puns right now."

You chuckle, flicking at the dust on the windowpane. "You act as if I don't know them all by heart."

Jamie laughs too, probably nodding in the middle of the store aisle like you're right by her side. She sighs when her mother calls her away. "Mom's looking at the funny birthday cards, probably wants to show me one to give Dad next month. I gotta go."

"Alright, see you soon!"

Minutes or hours pass by in a blur, the house quiet save for the rain that patters on the rooftop above. In the instant you throw your phone on the bed after another session of endless scrolling, Jake comes into view, lingering by the doorframe. His down-turned eyes point at his feet while a pout covers the lower half of his face. When he's like this, his disposition is akin to a kid caught with cookie crumbs at the edge of his mouth. "Was that Jamie earlier?"

Was he listening? How long had he been waiting to talk to you?

"Yep," you confirm. "Still stuck in the storm. Hopefully it passes quickly." You wrap your arms around yourself, suddenly chilly. The cold of the rain seeps into your skin like it knows you hate the frigid and unrelenting downpour. It plucks all your nerves to their highest frequencies. You think so, anyway.

It can't have anything to do with last night, or this moment being the first time you and Jake have talked since then. It's not like his admission changes anything between you, and your past emotions have no bearing on the present. Being awkward about it, despite your best intentions not to, solves nothing. Yet, you feel the prickle of your anxiety all the same.

Jake's eyes pinch at the corners. "Still freaked out by the weather?"

You shrug, hands clenching to your skin. "Yes and no."

Going back in your memory, you can barely recall the first time you experienced a thunderstorm as a kid outside of how it made you feel. Small, fragile, open to all the elements. It was bad enough life in your parent's home made you feel that way daily, but storms only amplified the insecurities.

That first time you experienced one in the Sim house, a ladybug glued to the glass doors downstairs as the outside world thrashed and rumbled, reminded you even the tiniest beings endure harsh conditions. And you did everything in your power that day to help ensure the creature's survival.

Maybe the nickname stuck because it fit you too well, and it hasn't gone away since for good reason.

Jake walks over, his face now tilted in your direction, and shucks his zip-up hoodie off to wrap around your shoulders. You start to speak, "You don't have to—"

"I want to," he replies, a scoff teetering on the edge in his voice. "Got a million more."

You nod, giving him a soft smile of gratitude. Stuffing your arms through the sleeves, you smell his scent on the fabric. It lingers like all the words you've stamped down. Bergamot and tangerine, with the faintest trace of sea salt.

"You're safe, ladybug." His words are so soft that the clap of thunder accompanying them almost drowns them out. But you think you could hear him even if the lightning came down right next to his face.

"I know," you say, knowing it's never been more true than right now. Yet, you feel something else resting underneath his words, an iceberg you can see past the top of. The sentence eases your mind, yet ramps up a different emotion entirely, one you haven't felt in a long time for him.

"Last night, I—"

"It's fine, Jaeyun," you insist. You shake off whatever he's about to say with a forced giggle. "We've changed. Sure, we both had little crushes on each other back then. It doesn't mean anything now."

"It doesn't?"

"I mean…why does it need to? It would be crazy, anyway. Like it could work now when it didn't then."

Jake's jaw ticks as he smiles, the action as artificial as your previous laugh. "Right. It would be crazy, wouldn't it? To think about you in that way still."

"Yeah, crazy." You don't realize he's stepped forward a few inches until you notice his body in sharper clarity. The long-sleeve Manchester United shirt with a tattered logo on the center, one of his favorites, and how it rises with every inhale and exhale. The shell necklace touching his collarbone, the one you made for him the summer before he started high school.

"So if I said I still feel the same way I did at sixteen—that it's hard not to every time I look at you—would that be crazy, too?"

Your brain becomes hollow, coherent thought and reasoning out of your reach.

The storm continues battering the house, but its strength compares little to the forces stirring in your heart. The desire to hold him close churns in your stomach like the strongest tornado known to man.

It's irrevocably wrong, so why does he still pull you in?

Jake reaches for you, hand pressing to the skin between your lower jaw and neck, and it feels too warm. It makes your body shiver, but he doesn't pull back. He just inches closer, so close his breath ghosts over your face.

His eyes speak with the pleas his mouth can't verbalize. Let me know if I should let you go now before I can't. Tell me to stop thinking about you, once and for all.

You don't stop him. Not when you take the last step to his lips, not when both of your eyes flutter closed, and not when you finally feel his mouth press to yours.

Jake tastes like cherry lip balm with traces of chlorine, a mixture that could not feel more perfect on your tongue. You want to drink it forever now that you've gotten a sip, both the act and sensation long overdue.

You move in sync. His hands find purchase on your hips as you wrap your hands around his neck, deepening the kiss. He grunts against your lips when your tongue presses to the seam of his mouth, and he lets you in eagerly. You've kissed many boys—and a handful of girls—in your life, but nothing compares to this, to Sim Jaeyun.

You're utterly fucked, the implications of your choice clear, but you don't care. It's too right to think of all the reasons it shouldn't be.

You both hear the front door below slam, the sound knocking you both away from each other like a bomb. Jake's eyes open, the irises lust-blown with a fire that mirrors the raging one in your stomach. You don't know what to say in time. The chance flickers by as the rest of the family makes it known they're back.

"Kiddos, we're home!" Jihyun calls from below. Jamie yells something about the traffic being a bitch, and both of her parents chide the profanity so loudly you and Jake chuckle discreetly.

His humor morphs back into raw vulnerability, and he kisses the spot between your eyebrows before whispering, "Meet me back here tonight, yeah? Wanna finish what we started."

You nod with a bitten lip, eager to know what he means as he exits the guest room and walks downstairs. Your heart is lurching, your palms are sweating, but you've never felt more giddy than this moment.

They should terrify you, all the consequences of your next moves that lay at your feet, but you're not scared at all. Not an ounce.

You tiptoe past Jamie's door, a smidge of regret glazing over your excitement about being alone with Jake again. Seven hours after he left you in the guest room, your need consumed you. It was all you thought about in that time flipping through magazines with Jamie and sitting next to her at dinnertime.

Your eyes couldn't help but pass over Jake's at the table when you caught him staring first. His parents were talking about cute memories of all of you, your middle school years specifically, yet your insides were on fire. You were a blaze of obscene proportions as he gazed at your figure.

Now, you're eager to see him, to have a repeat of the scene in the guest room, to know if there's more to the story that's currently unwritten.

Jake opens the door the second you raise your fist to knock on it. Your hand sits in mid-air as he stands there, a quiet smirk playing on his lips. "Thought you'd never show up."

He brings you in with a hand at your waist, and soon enough, he locks the door behind him to have both palms all over you. He tugs your lips between his teeth and kisses you like a starved man, the only salvation being your mouth and body.

Jake's an excellent kisser, holding the right amount of pressure with a level of tenderness in each touch that weakens your knees. He still smells like his lip balm, but there are traces of mouthwash this time, spearmint hitting your tongue as his muscle touches the roof of your mouth.

"I love how you taste," Jake says in between you like a confession. "I can't wait to have more of you."

You moan and squeeze his biceps between your fingers. "Nothing's stopping you, Jaeyun."

Jake tugs at your cotton shorts, wanting them off so much that he makes that want a reality. Your cotton underwear sticks to your legs, arousal drenching the insides of your thighs like another person hasn't turned you on this much solely from kissing. Maybe no one ever has, not like this. Maybe he's that good at this already, transforming you into a puddle for him alone.

Moving you to the edge of his bed, Jake makes the back of your knees knock into his comforter as he undoes his drawstring sweats and yanks his sweater up and over his head. You help him discard what you can, but you're too eager to reattach your lips to his. He can't blame you; he's caused the chasm that is your need, and he has to see it filled.

"You're beautiful, you know that right?" The question tumbles out of your mouth before you can stop it, and Jake just runs his hand across your face lovingly and smiles.

"Let's not talk about who's the beautiful one here, yeah?"

He crawls atop of you, the only clothes left on both of you being his underwear and your undergarments, and it's anyone's guess if he'll take them off of you soon or will tease you to the very end. Jake sees the wet ruins of your panties and a cheshire-like grin spreads on his face. "I think I could make you come just like this with the way you're drenching my sheets, baby."

You quirk an eyebrow and rut your hips into his, your underwear brushing the outline of his pulsing cock. You can almost feel the spot that's damp on his own briefs through the fabric of your panties, positive he is also ready to be relieved of his own pent-up desires. "I could say the same to you, Jakey."

Jake grunts at the nickname, one only few people have ever used, and captures your mouth with his again. He rubs his core into yours with hard, languid strokes. Your wetness melds with the hardness of his bulge with each meeting of your hips. You run your nails down his back to prove how good it feels, even if it's just the two of you rutting against each other's clothes. It's carnal how hard and fast you both grind against each other. The two of you want nothing more than to come apart at each other's hands.

There's still the uncertainty there if it's too soon to take it to the last hurdle, with sex and your relationship, whatever that is, but that doesn't matter now. The need to have each other in any way you can drowns out the sound of your doubts and what tomorrow will bring. You can only focus on right now, the end of desire right on the horizon.

"I'm not gonna last much longer, sweetheart." Jake rubs his hands along your ribcage, fingers splayed under your breast. You grip him harder as he says the words, and he smirks as he pants. "Would you like that? Knowing you made me come untouched?"

"More than anything," you admit, his cock hitting your clit in just the right way that has you frothing at the mouth.

His tongue delves deeper into your mouth as he continues to thrust against you, precum smearing down the fabric of his underwear and making it his briefs as soaked as your panties. You're so close, the ridges of him rubbing the velvet walls of you through the materials of your underwear to make you see stars.

"That's it," he growls. "Come for me, baby. It's gonna feel so good."

Those words undo you in that second; the magic of them can't go understated. Your body shudders as you reach the peak and fall off of it in the same second. It's white hot and searing, and you let it take you down as you feel the orgasm seep into your toes.

"Come with me, Jaeyun, please?" you whisper when you have a hint of coherent thought left in you, yearning to see him unravel.

Just like his words crumbled you, yours break him. He whimpers a broken moan as he comes in his underwear, meeting his end with his massive load soaking through and dribbling down across his thighs. Your bodies' essences mix as you keep riding your highs out, and it feels too good to stop until you're too sensitive to continue.

You both sit there in a mess of sweat and cum, unsure how to address that you've both just done that together. It can't go back to the way things were before, the two of you always on a fault-line of teasing each other and living in half-measures around your emotions. How could you?

When he cleans up and lays down next to you, both of you clothed once again, you run your fingertips over the veins of his arm until you're at his shoulder blade. He watches you as your venture higher, and your face heats, suddenly bashful.

"I meant what I said earlier. You're so beautiful, it's incredibly distracting." You run your hand through the ends of Jake's sweaty hair.

"Is your form of pillow talk just compliments?" he jokes partially. "Because I could give you a dozen of those at any time."

"What's yours?" you ask, beaming at his admission.

"Besides doing that again?" You giggle at the reference until he cages you in his arms, his warmth bathing you in gold. "For starters, this."

You whisper about everything and nothing, Jake stopping occasionally to run his lips over the space of your forehead and the crown of your hair. You fall asleep that way in no time, pleased to be on the cusp of something beautiful beginning.

You don't expect to wake up to the sight of Jamie peering down at you, wide-eyed and lips in a firm line. During the night, Jake must have gone to use the bathroom and forgot to lock the door again, and you hadn't noticed.

The sight of her in front of you almost makes you forget you're still entangled with Jake like two vines, legs intertwined and your head nestled on his chest.

Jamie points to Jake's door with a trembling finger, deadly silent, before walking back out of his room.

"What the fuck?" are the first words out of Jamie's mouth. Her face grows darker in that instant, anger overtaking her. "What the actual fuck is the reason I found you up against him like that?"

"Jamie, you gotta relax, please."

"Oh, so I should relax after catching my best friend and little brother practically tonguing each other down?"

The way she emphasizes "little" could make you vomit. She acts like she witnessed you pressed up against the teenage version of him and not the adult he is now. You know she's overdramatic, but she can take it overboard too often; it's one of her fatal flaws to boot.

"Jamie, I swear it was nothing," you lie immediately. "We were just watching a movie after you passed out because we couldn't sleep, and then we must've fallen asleep together. That's all, okay?"

"You didn't do anything?" She looks over the clothes you walked into Jake's room wearing last night, not seeing anything she can speculate over, but still on edge from the scene she's just witnessed. "You swear?"

You nod without realizing. "I swear to God." Good thing you're not a religious person, or a higher power would most likely strike you down on the spot. But you'd do it again to spare Jamie of the fact you did more than your fair share of things with Jake last night.

She huffs, relieved but still agitated. "Okay. Well, just never let that happen again, please. I almost ran out of here ready to pluck my eyes from their sockets and bleach them."

You rub your arms protectively. "Would it be so bad if Jake and I did happen to like each other? See where—"

She puts a finger in between you, making a face like she will in fact vomit. "I was so ready to have Mom's hump-day pancakes and now I can't even think of drinking a glass of orange juice right now after hearing you even suggest that idea to me."

"Jamie, come on," you chide her.

"You come on! It would never work, Y/N. Be realistic!"

That's rich, you jest at her in your mind. "Why? Because he's related to you and I'm not?"

"That's the biggest reason, for sure, but you both are going to school hours away from each other and Jake is drowning in intramurals and labs half the time." She swats away her own words with manic hands. "Why are we even talking about this? It's not gonna happen ever!"

Your heart sinks, the stone that you held in your gut days ago back with a vengeance.

"Tell me you'll stop thinking about this, please."

You sigh and nod, keeping your arms crossed to guard yourself from the promise you've just made Jamie. Your best friend has clipped the beating wings of a promising future with Jake so unceremoniously, you're unsure what to do with that info now, or how you'll present the topic to Jake when he wakes up.

"You coming?" Jamie asks over her shoulder as she descends the staircase, and you're transported back to that first day you arrived at the house for the trip, Jake's mirrored words holding more hope than you realized back then. You follow behind as the seams of your heart rip the muscle in two, sadness seeping into your every pore with each step.

After you all clear your breakfasts from the table, Jamie's parents retreat to their room and Jamie takes her usual midday R&R nap. Jake steps behind you in the kitchen, the coast clear from prying eyes. Nobody's around to witness him cage you in by the sink, eager as he runs his hands up your sides. "You were gone this morning. Where'd you run off to?" he whispers into your ear, and you shiver from his proximity. You're both terrified and tantalized by what Jake does to your body by doing nothing substantial. Just the subtlest act unwinds you.

He makes it difficult to resist him, but you replay your discussion with Jamie from a few brief hours ago in your head. The act helps you solidify your promise in your heart like iron, no matter how much you want to melt into Jake's embrace and forget it all.

"We can't do this, Jaeyun."

"We're not doing anything…not yet."

The second Jake's lips brush your neck, you skitter away and drop your plate in the sink. If he keeps touching you, you'll crumble without another thought, so keeping him at an arm's length is the only option. "I mean it. Last night can't happen again."

"So what? It just meant nothing?" Jake laughs in disbelief, almost like he's waiting for the punchline of the joke you're making just to get a rise out of him.

You frown and bite the inside of your cheek. "I never said that."

"Then what are you saying right now?"

"I'm saying it won't work," you parrot Jamie's words to him, trying to find some objectivity there to stop feeling like you're chewing glass. "Where do you think we will go after this? Long-distance dating back and forth between two colleges? And that's if Jamie doesn't kill us before we get to that point."

"Is that what this is about?" Jake tries to step closer, but you back away in time. "Y/N, I'm not Taeyong. And you're more than just Jamie's best friend to me. I thought I proved that to you yesterday."

He did, in so many little ways that you barely see him like he's Jamie's little brother now. He's just Jake, solid and sweet and so within your reach right now. Yet you can't have him, the fallout from such a choice too catastrophic to verbalize.

"Jaeyun, we have to be realistic." The words feel like toxic waste on your tongue, the pain present under your skin but well-hidden behind your willpower. You can only pray he believes everything you've said up to this point, but a small part hopes he doesn't. That he'll see through it and brave the storm for the both of you.

Unfortunately, the former occurs as Jake's eyes go cold, his jaw sets into sharp lines and his hands go limp at his sides. "Realistic?"

"Yes."

He doesn't fight back or spew insults he's well within his rights to say to you. All he does is walk out of the kitchen with hard stomps. The silence is worse than any profane exclamation he could've thrown out, and that's when you know you've broken your own heart by breaking his.

Jake isn't yours, so why is it so torturous to watch him mingle with another girl, especially one he knows as well as he knows you?

Aria Song, a local veterinary technician and Jake's high school ex-girlfriend, haunts you like a phantom as she wades in the pool like she's always belonged there.

"Jaeyun, stop it!" You hear her squeal, and you want to dunk her head so deep in the water you forget she exists.

Layla tucks her head in your lap as you watch Jake and Aria through the glass doors. He's swimming around his ex-girlfriend's pool lounger like he has no cares in the world. She kicks water at him with her toned legs and a wide grin on her face.

She may be nice enough for Jake to have remained friendly with her since their high school days, but you've not liked her one bit since they broke up and neither has Jamie. But Aria's solid proof to Jamie that you're not chasing after her brother, and therefore she's content to relax by the pool outside and suffer through the younger folks giggling and splashing each other like they're teenagers again.

You couldn't, not without your heart cracking even more than it already has. You thought feigning a stomach bug and deciding to rot on the couch was the best second option, but it only meant you had a semi-adequate front-row seat to Jake's little show that's been going on all afternoon.

He glances at you now and then beyond the panes of glass like he knows you're judging. Like he wants you to be envious of Aria's position.

The worst part is that you are; you're sick with jealousy to the point it's creating bile in the back of your throat. The green monster inside of you rears its head with gnashing teeth and cruel thoughts, and you don't stop it from growing in size.

She's younger, prettier, not intricately tied to his older sister the way you are. It's so much easier for him to not bother with you, to pick a safer option that isn't riddled with roadblocks. And he's clear he's chosen from the way he fawns over his guest with intense eyes.

Layla nuzzles your side as you grimace, stopping you from attempting to burn a hole in the pool attendees' heads with your stare. "I'm being ridiculous aren't I, girly girl?"

You take the tilt of Layla's head as confirmation you're acting crazy. You're about to take your blanket and pillow back up to the guest room when Jake walks into the house, body sopping wet and creating tiny puddles on the tile.

"You're gonna have to mop up the floor," you say to break the ice, despite being irritated with him for consorting with a perceived enemy.

Jake only nods and moves to the kitchen without another look in your direction, grabbing two water bottles from the fridge and then slamming it shut.

Before he leaves, he walks over and presses one of the plastic bottles in your palm, fingertips brushing yours. "Hydration will help with the stomachache."

With that, he leaves out the back door. Now, you're more confused than annoyed. What does it mean, one minute unable to speak to you and then caring for your wellbeing the next? It's a cacophony of whiplash, for sure.

You hear a cough behind you that takes you out of your ruminations, and you see Jihyun smiling at you before entering the living room, rubbing behind Layla's ears. "Ladybug, you two are something else."

You shake your head and pop open the water to gulp down. When you've taken a hefty sip, you say, "We're nothing Mrs. Sim. We made that clear already."

"Please don't call me that, honey. Mrs. Sim is my mother-in-law and you know that."

You chuckle. "Like I said, it's nothing to worry about."

Jihyun raises her hands and shakes her head. "I didn't say you were anything…" She walks closer and sets a hand on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "But if you were, this family would be more than better off with you in it. Whether or not some of us see that right now, it's true."

Before you can ask her what she means, she saunters back towards her bedroom with Layla following in tow; your brain imprints her knowing grin to memory.

The Sims can be incredibly cryptic when they want to be.

Aria spends dinner with all of you, and Jake even invites Heeseung over to liven up the mood that you and Jamie sour by remaining quiet. You can't help it; Aria is too bold, too bright, too everything you can't give Jake right now.

You spend that night with the family stoic and deadpan, only conversing with everyone in small sentences. You barely say goodbye to Aria and Heeseung when they take their leave, nodding at her once and not again as she walks out. Jamie notices the tension in your body, but you don't want to talk. You don't give her the time to ask. You just walk into the guest room without another word and hide away, hoping to finish the rest of the trip with no more issues. Your best friend might call you a buzzkill, but it's better than going against her wishes.

Another hour rolls by, and when you're on the verge of sleeping, Jake barrels into your room without closing the door.

"Do you care at all?" Jake huffs out, chest rising and falling fast. He tries to remain quiet out of your fear he'll wake Jamie in the next room, but you can tell from the tone in his voice that he's breaking his own resolve.

You rise from your bed and quickly shut the door, confusion overtaking you. "What are—"

"I spent all of this morning ready to burn under the sun without SPF trying to prove a point because you wanted me to be realistic, and you said nothing. All day and since the second Aria came by, you've had this terrible pout on your face. What do you want from me?"

You know exactly what you want. Maybe it's better to let it out now and give Jake some clarity, even if it'll kill him on the inside like it's doing to you.

"I want you to be happy," you say, "but I realized pretty quickly I want that happiness to be with me." You raise your arms weakly, tears threatening to spill over. "But I can't. Jamie is too important, and she's made it perfectly clear she thinks this would be too weird for her."

"What do you think?" Jake steps forward, hair tickling your face from how close he is to your body. That charge between you reignites; the current that's kept you inextricably linked hums like a live wire once again. "What do you want?"

You sigh, taking a deep breath, unable to swallow another unspoken word. "I want you. Of course I want you."

Jake smirks softly and captures his hand in yours, fingers intertwining. "Then have me. Have me in whatever way you want, as long as I get to have you back."

The time between Jake's last words and now, the two of you in a tangle of clothes, feels like a lifetime. The previous time you were intimate like this is nothing compared to right now. Where that was frantic and fast-paced with undergarments stuck to sweaty, sexually charged skin, this is slow and reverent. Jake undresses you like he's afraid you'll take back what you said and did just an hour ago. As if you could ever.

There's no way you can change your mind now; his charms have unknotted all of your left brain's logic.

He kisses your neck and collarbones with tenderness. He leans down to kiss the tops of both of your naked breasts, and it's like he's striking the match that will burn you alive.

You want to savor the moment like he clearly is, but it's too much and not enough, two sides of the same coin. You arch into him on his bed, your legs intertwining with his. "Jaeyun, if you don't do something right now, I will combust."

Jake chuckles and sucks one of your nipples in his mouth the second after you command him, biting and teasing the bud with his teeth, and your body bows even harder off of his sheets. The pleasure builds like a wave, and he's barely done anything.

Hedonistically, he slides his fingers down to your aching clit. Essence gathers between his fingers as he runs his hand across your folds eagerly. "You're dripping," he mumbles, his lips resting a breath from yours. "So warm and wet."

You moan and ride his fingers, his figure-eights on your swollen bud building you up further.

"I want to make you come, more than anything," Jake starts before kissing your lips between every other word. "But I want to feel you around me when you do it."

His naked body slots against yours when he moves in closer. His biceps, thighs, cock, and fingertips cling to you like it's your own skin, but it's only a fraction of how close you want him to be.

You've spent so long hiding in the shadows and denying your feelings for him, and now that you have him, you need to cherish every millisecond of time before you're forced back into that corner of the world he didn't occupy.

You clench around nothing, your walls fluttering from the way Jake's tip slides against your clit agonizingly slow. He watches it all, how you writhe and beg with your body, and he adores it.

"So beautiful." The resounding breathless chuckle on his tongue could be as loud as a gunshot with the way it rings in your ears. "If I knew how pretty you'd look like this," he starts, "I'd have made you mine a long time ago."

You gasp as his thumb replaces the head of his cock on your clit, rubbing small but intentional circles there. "Do you want me to be?" you ask, dazed.

In that second between your question and his response, he slides the entirety of his cock into you until he bottoms out, pelvic bones meeting like hands in prayer. "What do you think?"

You want to pinch yourself in this moment, ensure yourself it's real as he moves. He holds the back of your neck with one hand as he leans down to press his lips to yours. His hips give a sharp thrust that has you moaning into his mouth. You find purchase on his naked skin, running your palms along the lines of his shoulder blades down to the smooth planes of his hips.

This can't be another dream, can it?

"You're perfect," you gasp as he thrusts again. "How are you real?"

Jake smiles down at you, mystified by the question being asked by you and not him. He takes one of your hands in his to press to his chest. You hear the frantic tempo of his heartbeat, the sound a messy drumbeat that makes your own heart clench. "Is that real enough?"

It was never supposed to be like this, you and him. But it's too beautiful for the most extravagant words, thoughts, or feelings to describe.

"More than enough," you say with a breathless giggle. You pull him down for another kiss, tangling your fingers in the ends of his hair.

It's holy how much he cherishes you and the experience of having you. He doesn't press too hard or take too much, giving as well as he gets it. When you bite down on his neck, leaving a mark that for sure will bruise soon, he runs his fingers along your burning clit, running lovingly tight circles there to prove he enjoys your possessive acts. When you tell him how good it feels, he moves faster and deeper, returning your praise with more pleasure.

"It feels so good, baby. You're like heaven around me," he swears. "Tell me how it is for you."

No coherent words come to mind, but you settle on, "So fucking good, Yunnie. More than that even." The words sound jumbled off of your tongue, and he smirks from how fucked you already are on his cock. But the smile isn't condescending or smug, just teasing in the most loving way.

He's safe and open and yours, and you can't fathom how you've become so lucky to receive the chance to be his in return.

You suck him in eagerly as you near your release, biting down on his shoulder to muffle the screams you can't release into the air. Not unless you want to wake up the entire house.

"I know you're close," Jake grunts. His hand comes up to the headboard for leverage as he slams into you harder, his other hand stroking your clit with more pressure. "Come around me, baby. Show me what it's like when you let go."

You show him with all your might when you shatter into the millions of pieces he's created of you with his passion. Your eyes scrunch shut as your mouth falls open, jaw slacking from the pleasure that overloads your entire being. Body limp and face buried in Jake's pecs, you think about all the times you've spent in secret, wanting and wishing for him, whether or not you knew it.

Now, you know too well the way he envelops your soul, and you never want to stop knowing him like this.

Jake comes undone soon after, warmth flooding your body with his release as he moans in your ear about how beautiful you are alongside a barrage of curses. "Holy shit, I'm still coming," he swears, another minute spent with his body thrusting up into yours to release what's left of his cum into you. You could spend forever here, you think, wrapped up in each other and this man who is now yours lost in ecstasy.

Jake finally pulls out when he's exhausted all of his energy, and beads of pearly white cum drip out of you from the separation. You don't clean it up, and neither does he. You're both too spent and satiated to care.

"Hi," you croak, head resting on Jake's shoulder when he gets comfortable in his bed and pulls the covers over you. You're tucked up to your chin, protected but still vulnerable in the aftermath of your orgasm.

Jake grins and tucks a stray sweaty hair from your face. "Hi to you too, beautiful."

When he continues to stroke your hair like it's the most precious thing he's ever touched, you think all the consequences in the world are worth this. You believe, without a doubt, that every price you'll pay for his affection is worthwhile.

"You and Jake."

Jamie says the three words like they don't belong in the same sentence. She sits on the dining chair across from you and Jake, both your hands interlocked in front of her like you're her parents sitting down to reprimand her. But it's the other way around, clearly.

Today, she probably expected to find you both making breakfast again, like it was a normal day through and through. Even when you told her you both needed to speak to her, she trotted over to the dining table like nothing was wrong. And nothing was wrong in your eyes, but you knew Jamie's opinion would change the second you told her the truth.

"Yes."

"Dating?"

"Yes." It feels so good to say. You bite back the smile that threatens to tug your lips up. You should feel guilty for betraying Jamie the way you have, going against her word so shamefully, but you can't. It's not a sin you've committed, or a traitorous act that can't be forgiven.

Jamie slaps her hands against her knees, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. "So, the talk we had meant nothing, clearly."

"It did, J. I just—"

"Wait, what talk?" Jake squeezes your palm once, showing his concern that you didn't tell him about whatever Jamie is referencing.

"That day before breakfast. She found me the morning after she went grocery shopping with your parents…and I said I'd stay away from you because she asked me to."

"You never told me that," Jake responds sadly. The blush creeping up his neck shows how embarrassed he must be by his actions afterward. You don't blame him for a second of it, though. It all worked out, anyway.

Your best friend huffs, prepared to vomit. "Don't talk to her like you know her."

"I do, Jamie." His tone drops, the soothing aura he had for you replaced with irritated admonishment of his older sister. You can tell he's exasperated from her judgement already. You squeeze his palm back to ask him silently to loosen up, and he unclenches his jaw to prove he's listening to you. He always seems to know what to do to make sure he is.

It's not love yet, but you're so close, it hurts.

"Please stop acting like you're the only one who does," Jake says finally.

"Really? Did you hold her hand the first time she got her period? Or when her and that douche boyfriend in sophomore year broke up with her right before Valentine's Day? Oh, let's not forget how she stole me a pack of Plan B during our senior trip to Spain."

"Jamie!" you shout, face turning red. "What the fuck?"

Jake just laughs sadly. "You may think you have a leg up on me, and that could be true. I don't have the history you both do. But I've cared about her for so long, longer than you may think." He sighs and turns to look at you, a small smile shared between you both as he strokes your skin with his thumb. "If you have to hate me or us for the way we feel, so be it."

"Stop acting like you're the mature one here!" Jamie shrieks. "Do you not understand how fucked this is?"

"You're the only one who thinks that way," you cut in. "You're making it more of a big deal than it has to be when we're all grown adults."

The scrape of her chair and stomp of her feet towards the backyard's glass door signifies your betrayal in her eyes. And the slam of the door against its metal lining exemplifies her burning rage. She would've yelled if not for her parents sleeping soundly upstairs, you know it.

You follow quickly behind, letting go of Jake's hand to run out to the backyard and follow her, passing Layla on the way to the door. Jake knows not to follow, and you appreciate him all the more for it. The end of the conversation lies between you and Jamie now.

You find her sitting with her knees tucked to her chest, overlooking the backyard fence and facing away from the pool. You cautiously sit down next to her, and she doesn't bristle or immediately scoot away. She's just quiet, unsure, and somehow that feels worse than her exploding at you right now.

"You know I love you, right?" you begin with that question because it feels the most apt. If she truly knew what you were risking, she wouldn't take your feelings or her brother's in this way, like it's a game both of you are playing with blind eyes.

She nods, silent and staring down at the surrounding grass.

"I really like him, Jamie." Your voice, as well as your eyes, flood with tears. It cracks on the sounds her name creates, and that makes her own eyes well up too.

"I never said you didn't."

"But you act like it's some fling. It kills me to see you hurt, but I can't put how I feel on hold anymore and neither can he." The words are both a relief to your own pain and an ache in your chest. Jamie's never been unable to feel the way she does, and you've never stopped her from doing so. But it's never been about her.

"I just don't want to lose you if it ends badly," Jamie confesses. She finally turns her gaze on you, irises glassy and the white of her eyes becoming red. "I can't."

You laugh sadly and pull her in close, shocked she could think such a thing. It gives way to understanding the fears Jamie has that're hidden beneath all the bluster. "That's never gonna happen, J, I promise. And I wouldn't be doing this if I thought your brother wasn't worth it."

Those two words—your brother—cause her to fake a gag. "Did it really have to be him, though? He doesn't brush his teeth until after breakfast, you know this."

You both share a chuckle, heads knocking into each other's and knees touching like nothing has changed.

In a way, it doesn’t have to. With the silence, you feel her anger ebb away, replaced with a resigned acceptance that she can't change this; it's too late, and she'll have to go with it even if she's against it.

But some things will never change. You're still best friends, and you’ll always have each other, despite being Jake’s significant other now and her being his sister. They’re not mutually exclusive, and that’s okay. Above all else, you’ll be the one person she can turn to forever, and vice versa. That's how it's always supposed to be and will be.

"Josh finally wised up, thank God. He'll be coming to the house in a few days to meet my folks, so you and my brother better be on your best behavior!" Jamie waggles a finger in your direction as she drives further down the road to the university. She doesn't look at you directly, but the instruction is clear, for you and your boyfriend to be nice to her new flavor of the week, and it makes it that much more hilarious.

"Aren't we always?" You wiggle your eyebrows despite her not seeing, and her finger becomes a full-fledged hand in your face. You giggle, taking that hand in yours. "How much longer?"

"Ten minutes, you freak. You act like the last time you saw him was a thousand years ago."

It's been a month and two days since you've been in the same space as Jake, but who's counting? You fell asleep on the phone together last night, so it wasn't as though you went without him for too long, but physical cohabitation was another thing entirely.

Happy didn't explain the emotion you felt when Jamie recommended picking Jake up from school on the way to her parent's, even if it added an hour and a half to the drive. She knew as well as you did how much you missed him. That didn't stop her from teasing you about it incessantly, though.

You shrug and put her hand back in her lap, not denying her exaggeration. Your heart thrums harder with every minute that counts down to your arrival.

Jake's dorm hall appears through the thicket of trees. Small pockets of students walk out of the building holding beach bags and other luggage to take to their cars. Finally, emerging from the sea of people, Jake appears. His mess of floppy hair you'd recognize anywhere, the locks almost falling to his shoulders. He dons a long-sleeved shirt that hides every beautiful line of the body you know so well by now, and you think he hasn't changed at all. Still beautiful, still yours.

You barely wait for the car to stop before you get out. Your feet carry you with the speed of a thousand strikes of lightning. Unbothered by the way your ankles and thighs burn as you run faster, all that matters is the smile that widens on your boyfriend's face when he sees you.

Jake catches you in his arms after you leap into them. Your legs immediately wrap around his waist and squeeze his lower half. The Sim house used to be one of the few places you found solace, but it's just not true anymore. Now, it's in Jake too, his love the greatest peace you've ever known.

Jake plants kisses all over the crown of your head before meeting your lips, the taste of spearmint gum coating your tongue. You giggle mid-liplock, and Jake smiles brightly down at you. "Hi."

"Hi," you respond before pressing your mouth to his again.

"Okay, horndogs! We need to leave soon before all that braised pork goes to waste!" You both separate and turn to see Jamie with her arms crossed and a close-lipped smile on her face. She's not angry or put off by the sight before her, her best friend and little brother entangled like vines. If anything, the spark in her eyes is all for show, her happiness hidden under the surface, even with the added snarky commentary.

You used to think that there were two certainties in the world. But now, they're accompanied by another truth.

No matter how many trials and tribulations you go through, Jamie will always be your best friend. Your best friend often gets what she wants—although she couldn't stop you from falling for her brother. And you are head over heels for Sim Jaeyun, forever and always.

── .✦ 𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 (𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗟𝗬 𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘):

@lovetaroandtaemin @filmnings @innocygnet @jaylaxies @xylatox @xomakara @gyubookeries @tinycatharsis @prkhaven @hannieoftheyear @frenchkisstheabyss @lovenha7 @wonberries @lyks02 @seokjinthescientist @icatpjs @kristynaaah @ikeuheartz @enhaslxt @jakeznii @heebear @immelissaaa @riqomi @universallyllamatimetravel @enhxlvr @jakesaverse @omglivss

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zyafics · 3 months ago

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thinking about fuck buddy!rafe with a cross back tattoo…

You drew patterns across his inked skin after a hookup, his back slightly arched, his posture never perfect. Your nails dragged, marking him with the right amount of pressure. Hesitating, you opened your mouth to say something, to cross an unspoken line beyond your fuck buddies agreement.

“I didn’t know you’re religious,” you said fondly.

“I’m not,” He answered, before quickly whirling his head around. His gaze met yours. “But I can be. Are you?”

You were surprised by his warm reciprocation. Your mouth lifted with a small smile, and you shook your head softly. “No.”

“Good,” he exhaled a sigh of relief. His hand dropped to your naked hip and pulled you onto his lap. “I wouldn’t know what to do in church.”

“I don’t think we’re allowed in.”

“Why not?”

Your gaze dropped south to the shameless display of his body. “Premarital sex.”

He barked out a laugh. “Are you asking me to marry you?” he asked. “Because I’m crazy enough to do it.” His hot mouth met the curve of your ear. “And you’re crazy enough to say yes.”

@inthelibrarybtw & @promiscuousg1rl who saw it first <3

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

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nereidprinc3ss · 1 year ago

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no sweeter innocence (than our gentle sin)

in which spencer reid is gentle with overwhelmed fem!reader after sex

18+ (fluff, implied intimacy) warnings/tags: it's just aftercare, but like psychological aftercare, implied intimacy duh, vague descriptions of sex but nothing explicit, hurt/comfort without the hurt, allusions to postcoital dysphoria, reader cries but its not really sad, spencer reid is so kind i wish men were real, i think that is all a/n: guess who wrote an entirely different thing instead of touching her wips..... AGAIN...... this bitch cant do anything omggg!! but this was based on a request so go me also what a strange time to be posting but it's only 1k words and nobody can stop me

“Hey. Are you with me, angel?”

You blink your eyes open in the dark room—reorienting yourself to the tangle of your bodies. How many minutes has it been?

“Hm?”

He chuckles—a quick huff from his nose as he brings a hand up to push hair from your face.

“I asked you if you’re with me.”

It takes you a moment to answer. You’re still trying to make sense of where you are in space, each sensation coming back to you one by one—the weight and pressure of him against you, the slip of cotton sheets and a cool breeze from the cracked window over your heated sticky skin.

“Oh.”

It’s not much of an answer and your voice is small. For a moment he lets it sit, cupping your warm cheek. Your eyes flutter shut again. His voice comes gentler, dipped in concern.

“You okay?”

This time you don’t try to speak. Your tongue is like a lead weight in your mouth and your brain is running on dial-up. The best you can do is to cling to him, hiding your face in the curve of his neck and hoping he’ll understand that your firm hold on him is a request for him to tighten his own arms around you, until you’re sure you won’t float away. He reciprocates and it makes you feel more secure immediately.

“Can you answer me?” He murmurs, all sweet solicitation, lips brushing the top of your head in this new airtight position. And then, a moment later— “Baby. I wanna hear your voice.”

“Mhm,” you manage.

Spencer rewards you by rubbing your back in slow circles. His hand feels nice on your bare skin. The way you love him is too big for words. It could make you cry.

“Wasn’t too much? You’re not hurting anywhere?”

You shake your head and try to ignore the ache in your bones when you can’t seem to get him close enough.

“Mm-mm.”

It’s not entirely true—your legs are sore, but it’s nothing that needs tending to, and your lower back is a bit crampy, but he’s already working on that.

He hums. “You’re pretty out of it, sweet girl. What’s going on with you?”

Spencer is always careful with you. He’d never hurt you, or sacrifice your comfort for his pleasure. That said, he’s just as passionate as you are. The stretch of your arms above your head is still fresh in your mind—the ghost of his grip, pressing your wrists into the mattress, or pushing your leg up, or pulling you exactly where he wanted you by the hips. It’s all wonderful, and you never feel safer than you do when you’re with him, but it doesn’t make you feel any less vulnerable, any less raw, after all is said and done. Maybe it’s precisely because you trust him so much that you’re so sensitive afterward. But he never, ever makes you feel bad for having an intense reaction to an intense experience. He always meets you where you’re at. That in itself makes you emotional. Spencer is different than any of the partners you’d had before.

Again, he’s patient as you try to process his question and work up a response. Maybe a minute later, you’re breathing out something that feels true.

“Overwhelmed.”

The word is a tap against glass you didn’t know was there until it’s fracturing like a spiderweb. With no warning, and for no good reason, you find yourself choked up.

“Oh,” he says, sympathetic and drawn out as understanding sets in. “Do you need me to back off for a minute?”

You squeeze him even fiercer and shake your head, unable to stop the tears from drawing their shiny paths down your cheeks and sinking into the weave of the pillow case.

“Shh. You’re okay,” he murmurs, quiet and slow and almost sing-songy as he smooths your hair, though you know he doesn’t really expect you to stop crying. “You’re okay, pretty. Remember what I said about all the hormonal shifts in your body after you come?”

Once more you nod against him with a small, shuddering sniffle.

“And how sometimes your body regulates by crying? Kind of like a… a reset button?”

“Mhm.”

“Mhm.” He shifts from rubbing your back to tracing light lines in shapeless patterns with the blunt edges of his nails, and your breath catches before you’re melting in his hold. “It’s okay to have big or confusing feelings after sex. It’s actually really common. I just want you to be honest with me about those feelings, right? So we can keep you safe?”

“Right.”

“Would you tell me if you were hurting, or if something I did or said was bothering you?”

“Yes.”

If you were looking at him you know he’d be smiling ever so slightly at your monosyllabic responses, charting an upward path with his hand and pushing it through your hair at the nape of your neck. “You can just nod, baby. You don’t have to talk. I know you’re tired.”

You make a small noise of gratitude and nuzzle closer, feeling better as the tears slow, quickly as they’d come.

“Do you want a bath in a little while?”

Another nod. He scratches at your scalp. “Okay. We’ll do a bath, and then dinner, and then I’m finally going to make you watch that documentary about Helvetica. It’s a little outdated, and there are a few basic errors about the origin and development of the font as well as misinformation about the typeface subgroup in general, but I can amend those as we watch and afterward we can read the director’s tenth anniversary statement. I was waiting to read it until we watched it together.”

Spencer knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’ll fall asleep ten minutes in, curled up on the couch under a blanket in your biggest hoodie with your head on his lap and his hand in your hair, just like this.

He’s actually really looking forward to it.

#spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds imagine

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maneskinwh0re · 7 months ago

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sevika x brothelfemme!reader — “not your job”

cw: [n]sfw, dom!sevika, soft!sevika, mostly fluff :3

summary: thinking about having a long-term brothel contract with sevika. at the end of a particular booking when she has already made you cum like 3 times, she forgot to leave time for aftercare (actually forgot she was on a time limit, just lost inside you). so when she starts to apologize and frantically clean you up, you just kick her out SKDHAHDJA fic plot begins right afterwards…

∴.·:*¨¨*:·. ☙.·:*¨ ¨*:·.♡ .·:*¨ ¨*:·. ❧.·:*¨ ¨*:·.∴

“come on, i’ll walk you out,” you say as you smooth out your dampened lingerie and throw on a matching robe, shielding your figure from the cold as well as your client’s wandering grey eyes.

“that’s not in your job description,” sevika counters as she zips up the fly of her cargos. you step closer to button her pants as well as buckle her thick belt, a sentiment that means more to her than you know.

whenever sevika asks, you always imply that helping her get dressed is a favor in your contract (you both know it’s not) and then your defense is usually followed by a teasing remark about her missing left arm. in reality, you use the closeness as an excuse to continue the intimacy after sex, a further connection between you two, but the secret remains unspoken.

“you’re right, it’s not in my job description. and neither is changing the sheets, but looks like i’m doing that too since i’m too embarrassed to let poor harley do it.”

“isn’t that their job anyway?”

“can you just quit arguing with me and get your ass out?” you bicker with a laugh, knowing sevika is just stalling at this point.

“thought y’ liked my ass,” she smiles smugly and tilts her head as she looks down to you, her flesh hand teasingly trailing up your curves.

you were gonna really make her feel like shit about not leaving time for aftercare, you just like to rub it in. the two of you know it’s all jokes, and have had a bounded contract for a while now. sevika isn’t a regular for anyone else, and you’ve recently stopped seeing any other clients…

“ha ha. i like it when it’s obedient,” you purr with a giggle, giving her behind a soft swat. “let’s go— the laundry room ‘s at the end of the hall anyway.”

“hmph, alright fine,” she agrees with a pout that is so cute, it almost makes you forget about her dominant nature that made you scream and beg mere minutes ago… almost.

when you get to the door, your trusted head of security opens it for sevika, and only when her flesh hand leaves its place on your lower back did you realize the warmth that was there as you walked the dimly lit hallway. it’s the little things that keep you both so connected, even if you don’t think to control them consciously.

you lean against the doorway, one hand on your hip as you smile up at her. when she leans in for a goodbye kiss, you turn your head away.

“ah ah, y’ know you gotta pay for that,” you say with a smirk.

“i think i just did,” she replies with a quirked brow, a prideful smile revealing the little gap between her two front teeth.

you only stare at each other, a silent competition to see who yields first to give in for a kiss.

“i’ll see you tomorrow,” you finally break the silence with a sly smile and turn away to resume your shift.

“but i’m not booked for tomorrow…?” sevika thinks aloud, her eyebrows furrowing together as if her statement is a question.

you look back to her, your tongue running along the inside of your cheek and huffing as if trying to stifle a laugh. sevika staying away from you? yeah, right. like a moth to a flame.

“i will see you tomorrow, sevika.” you look up at her tall figure and place a hand on her chest to push her out the door.

in a quick motion, sevika shoves your hand to the side and pulls you in by the waist for a deep kiss. you reciprocate immediately— because how could you not? your hands grip her short hair and you feel the coldness of her labret piercing against your bottom lip. you can taste your earlier release on her tongue, recalling the lewd thoughts of when she-

“ahem.” the security guard’s lower pitched voice brings you back to the moment.

gasping for air, you push sevika off and wobbly move clear of the doorway. “alright, get outta here. before i call security.”

“oh, will you? i’m real scared,” she jokes, taking loopy, post-sex drunken steps down the stairs.

“i could kick your ass, sevika!” callum shouts into the cold night, then slams the heavy door shut before your patron could reply. you internally relish the sound of sevika’s deep laugh fading out on the other side of the metal entryway, indicating she’s finally walking home.

“thanks, cal,” you chuckle as you readjust your laced bralette.

“why don’t y’all do all ‘at off the clock?” callum turns to you, his tone is still light but with a tint of seriousness.

“what do you mean?”

“you know what i mean. that stupid smile will stick to your face the rest of y’r shift, hon. and it’s only ever there after your sevika is.”

you scold your coworker, waving him away before he notices your flushed expression. “oh my- s-shut the fuck up!”

‘your sevika’

…you could get used to the sound of that.

∴.·:*¨¨*:·. ☙.·:*¨ ¨*:·.♡ .·:*¨ ¨*:·. ❧.·:*¨ ¨*:·.∴

alexa play casual by chappell roan !

a/n: had the plot idea a few weeks ago, dropping this fluff and running back to hibernate bc kinda been going through it lately lol BUT WE DOING BETTER NOW TEAM DW found some inspo to write :3

harley and callum are two oc’s i might add to an ongoing fic bc i actually ended up kinda liking this :)

- 🐝

taglist: @audr3yyyyy @mirconreadzztuff22 @wizard-pdf @archangeldyke-all @nhaaauyen @inthebrainofalamb <3

#sevika #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #bee #maneskinwh0re #lesbian #arcane sevika #arcane #arcane season 2 #arcane spoilers #arcane s2 #sevika x you

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hencheri · 6 months ago

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▸ 18+ mdni.

| pairing. jock!jeno x nerdy girl!reader

| warnings. noncon, unprotected sex, squirting, perv!jeno, reader wears glasses.

the cold breeze bites your skin, tears gracefully streaming down your face, reaching your neck and disappearing into the material of your polo shirt. your lashes are wet and stick together as you blink, quietly sniffling, jeno's low moans reaching your ears.

perched over the bleachers, the dents of the metal stairs imprinted on your stomach as your shirt has slightly ridden up, he rocks his hips against your ass, hard cock pulsing in you.

you just wanted to get your bag back as you forgot it earlier in the evening when you went to watch the baseball game with your friends. your university ended up winning, and in the midst of all the cheers and screams, you left without your belongings.

jeno is part of the university baseball's team, and when you came back to the field, he was still there.

you've always known he had an interest in you, but you never reciprocated. maybe you should have—just to avoid this.

your panties sitting on top of your sneakers prevent you from moving too much, giving jeno the liberty to handle you how he desires. his hands hold your hips in place, your skirt flipped up over your ass and his sweats pulled down just enough to free his cock.

"i’ve always wanted you, you know…" he pants loudly as your glasses fog up, being as out of breath as he is. "such a shame that you never let me have this pussy before," he groans, slightly frustrated.

jeno has been waiting for quite a long time now. he never pushed you or went too far, just some attempts here and there, but you always had a negative answer for him.

jaemin once said you were a prude dressed like a slut. a stuck-up; a girl too obsessed by her studies and her image to allow guys to fuck her.

but you weren't too difficult to convince tonight. a little whiny, but oh so docile.

his mouth agape, he fucks his engorged cock into your soppy pussy, his hairy pelvis meeting the curve of your ass each time he bottoms out, making the flesh bounce.

the night is harsh, cooler than usual, the tips of his fingers becoming cold as the time passes. it contrasts vastly with the high temperature of your body.

you slowly turn your head to look over your shoulder, eyes inching up jeno's body, glancing at his hips moving back and forth and then his bare face, illuminated by the bright street lamps all around the field.

he licks his lips before locking eyes with you, but eye-contact is soon broken when a thrust rougher than the others makes you jerk forward, the end of the bench under you digging into the bare skin of your thighs. you gasp, scrunching your eyes shut and involuntary clenching around his girth.

your glasses slip down a little, sweat accumulating where the frame of the glasses sit on your nose. when you open your eyes, you see a foggy silhouette of jeno, your hot breath meeting the cold air of the night creating mist in your lenses.

"fuck," he chokes out, "i knew you'd be tight, but that much..." he chuckles, telling you his unholy thoughts about you. "you have the perfect pussy, i swear. so warm, and fucking wet... god," jeno comments—something you've never thought someone would tell you, even someone as perverted as him.

more endless minutes pass, stopping himself when he feels his orgasm building up in his stomach, going again when the feeling has disappeared—basically edging himself as long as he can.

but eventually his pace gets faster and faster, almost knocking the breath out of your lungs. you cry and whimper under him, the coil at the pit of your stomach ripping, cumming messily around jeno, droplets of clear liquid flooding out of your cunt.

"oh, shit-" he curses, moaning in sync with you as he keeps pounding you.

soon after, weeks worth of jeno's cum spurt in you, filling you up till it drips out of your pussy.

he pulls out and the quivers of your pussy make more of his creamy cum fall, running along your inner thigh.

"so fucking pretty," he exhales, admiring the mess he made of you.

#[ ★ ] dark content #— ☆ starring dream #w/ jeno !#nct smut #nct x reader #nct hard hours #nct imagines #nct dream smut #nct dream x reader #nct dream imagines #lee jeno x reader #jeno smut #jeno x reader

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rafesangelita · 9 months ago

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♡ when you tell rafe you love him for the first time, he shows you just how much he reciprocates it back.

warnings: established relationship, super sweet fluff, making out, heavy petting, dry humping, first time together, soft sex, vanilla sex, sooo much praise, oral (f. receiving), guided masturbation, handjob, slight dirty talk, unprotected sex, pre-ejaculation (rafe couldn’t help himself), multiple orgasms

a/n: i don’t know if it’s the weather change but i’ve just been in a really soft mood as of lately :( i would appreciate it soooo much if you partook in this little poll here <3

wc: 2.0k

a few months may not be considered enough time to fall in love with someone, but with rafe? the feeling felt like it was overdue. especially during times like this, when his hands roamed your body and left a trail of burning desire in its wake. “r-rafe..” you couldn’t help the sound from leaving your lips when you felt just how hard he was in his jeans. “mmm— what’s wrong?” he pulled away, staring down at you as you nervously avoided his gaze.

eyebrows pinching together, a concerned expression took over your boyfriend’s features as he sat up, dragging you onto his lap as he did so. “hey, are you alright?” rafe took your hand in his, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. your heart soared at the little action, a smile gracing your lips as you nodded. “yes, it’s just.. i’m really happy with you. you’ve been so amazing to me and so romantic, and i love that— i love you.” rafe froze, his jaw clenching at your words.

sensing a shift in his demeanor, you felt a slight raise of panic as he blinked, his eyes flickering up at yours. “i’m sorry, it’s probably too soon—” you scrambled, suddenly feeling your cheeks heat in embarrassment. “what did you say?” rafe rested his hands on your hips, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “that it’s too soon—” you started, “no, before that.” rafe loved seeing how flustered he made you, the worried look on your face only making him ache for you even more.

“..that i love you?” rafe nodded, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pulled you closer to his chest. “do you really?” he started trailing kisses down the curve of your neck to your shoulder, your eyes fluttering shut as he started dragging your hips up and down his lap. you whimpered at the friction, your arms wrapping around his neck as you reveled in the rough denim of his jeans grazing against your clothed clit. “yes, rafe, i love you.” you repeated, a groan rumbling from his chest.

rafe loved you long before you two started dating, so hearing those three simple words leave your mouth was enough to drive him crazy. “i love you too, more even, if that’s possible..” he whispered against your skin, your perfume intoxicating his senses. you sighed in relief, a gasp leaving your lips when rafe groped you through your dress. “been waiting for you to say that to me,” he spoke through kisses, “i would’ve said it first, but i didn’t wanna scare you away.”

you shook your head, hips still grinding against his. “scare me away?” you giggled, “yeah, right.” rafe laughed, pulling away only to admire you. he still couldn’t believe that you were his. apart of him felt undeserving of all of this, but you made it so easy for him to feel this way, he couldn’t imagine things being any different. eyes trailing down your chest, rafe swallowed thickly as his fingers slipped under your dress. “can i show you how much i love you?”

you took your bottom lip between your teeth, nodding softly as he slid your dress off, leaving you in nothing but the lingerie set you picked out just for him. “you’re so fucking pretty..” you shivered when rafe pulled the waistband of your panties, the material snapping against your skin. your fingers worked to get rafe out of his pants, the sound of his belt coming undone made butterflies erupt in your tummy. rafe took off his shirt, tossing the article of clothing in the corner.

despite seeing him shirtless a countless amount of times, it didn’t change the fact that you were ogling his muscles like it was first time all overs again when he first approached you at the beach some months ago. glistening gold skin, chiseled abs, and a prominent v-line? you were smitten from the start. rafe got up once you got his jeans unbuttoned, his hands taking yours as he had you sit on the edge of his bed. “see what you do to me?”

your eyes fell down to where he pulled the rest of his clothing off, your lips parting slightly when his length sprang up against his stomach. just when you thought he couldn’t be any more perfect, you stared wide eyed at the sight in front of you. wrapping a hand around your own, you gasped when he palmed himself, your skin meeting his. “the second i went up to you and you looked at me with those eyes of yours, all i could think about was this very moment.” rafe groaned.

you began stroking him, his eyebrows knitting together as his jaw went slack. your hand felt so much better than his by a million times. “yeah?” you teased, a shy smile gracing your features. rafe nodded, picking up the pace of your shared movements before resting his free hand on your shoulder. “f-fuck!” rafe pulled away with a grunt, his eyes growing dark as he zeroed in on your figure. you watched as he got on his knees before you, spreading your thighs open with a curse.

“shit, i need to taste you, babe..” he ran a thumb up your soaked cunt, “make you cum on my tongue.” you whimpered at his words, your chest rising and falling as he slid the lace material down your legs. you shuddered when he sat back to take the view in, his stomach caving in when he spread apart your glossy folds. “rafe..” you whined, feeling exposed as he reveled in the sight of your glistening slick shining under the dim light of his room.

rafe leaned down, pressing wet kisses to your inner thighs before locking them to his shoulders. taking a deep breath, your mouth fell open in a silent moan when you felt his tongue lick a stripe up your sticky center before meeting your needy clit. rafe circled his tongue around the sensitive bud, the sensation making you jolt in pleasure. “oh, my god!” you nearly shrieked when he kept repeating the action, your hips instinctively attempting to move away from his face.

“don’t run baby, i’m gonna take such good care of you..” he whispered against your flesh, splaying one of his hands across your tummy. being held in place while rafe ate you like a man starved had you absolutely hysterical. so much so, that rafe couldn’t help himself in letting one of your thighs go so he could stroke himself while bringing you closer to the edge. “so fucking perfect, i’ve dreamt of eating this pussy.” you cried out when his tongue slipped inside your entrance.

eyes fluttering closed, your hand came down to wrap around his fingers, a string of moans leaving your lips. rafe was determined to make you reach your peak, the slight trembling in your thighs being the telltale sign he needed to know you were going to cum soon. you babbled, your back arching off of the mattress when the band in your stomach snapped, a choked sob ripping itself from your throat. rafe let go of his cock, forcing your thighs to stay open.

you had tears running down your cheeks, the white hot pleasure blinding your vision. “rafe!” you screamed, sitting up on your elbows as you shook in his hold. rafe’s eyes flickered up to meet your gaze, the sight ingraining itself into his brain forever. teary eyes, plush lips, flushed skin, you were absolutely gorgeous like this. “you’re the prettiest thing i’ve ever seen.” the sound of rafe’s voice brought you out of your post-orgasm bliss, your hands pulling at his.

“please, i need you!” you cried, welcoming him between your legs where he took your lips in a searing kiss. you moaned at the taste of yourself on his tongue, your eyebrows knitting in confusion when you felt something wet on your stomach. pulling away for a moment, you looked down, your eyes widening as rafe followed your gaze. “did you..” rafe groaned, beyond embarrassed at the mess coating his cock. “what the fuck?” he stammered, “i swear that’s never happened before.”

rafe couldn’t believe he cummed without having to be inside you. you cupped his face, shushing him as you wrapped your legs around his waist. while he was mortified at the fact, you thought it was the hottest thing ever. “s’okay.” you pecked his chin, moving up to his lips where he melted into your touch. “yeah?” he swallowed thickly, his length sliding between your folds. “yeah,” you nodded, “i just want you.” rafe moved his hand underneath your back, unclasping your bra.

cursing when your tits spilled out of the garment, rafe lined himself up with your entrance before thumbing your bottom lip. “i fucking love you.” was the last thing he said before filling you to the hilt, bottoming out with ease as he rested his forehead against yours. you stayed like this for a few moments, rafe interlacing his fingers with yours before pulling out and sliding back in again. nails digging into his skin, your voice shook as you whispered a ‘i love you, i love you..’

rafe stroked the side of your face, admiring the way your eyes gleamed up at him, down to the curve of your nose, and the cupid’s bow of your lips. he was going to remember every single little detail about you so he could visualize it later in his dreams. “you feel so good, pretty girl,” he praised, “so soft and wet for me.” rafe’s thrusts were slow and long, the head of his cock kissing your cervix while you barely held yourself together. you couldn’t form a single thought, let alone a word.

the way you looked at rafe said everything he needed to know, a reassuring ‘shhh’ falling from his lips as your mouth opened and closed with a sentence sitting on the tip of your tongue. rafe kissed you, swallowing all the pretty sounds you made while he rocked into you, your heels digging into his back. you were in a daze, your vision growing fuzzy as you let rafe consume you. his moans were like music to your ears, the warmth of his skin making you feel whole.

to rafe this was so much more than just sex. this was real intimacy, the closeness, the pure, raw, unadultered display of emotion. he had never experienced anything like it. with you underneath him like this, taking him so fucking good, muttering his name like it was the only thing you had in that beautiful head of yours, he was in disbelief that you were able to find it in your heart to love someone like him. even though he couldn’t understand it, he’d never question it either.

“ray!” your scream snapped him out of his trance, his eyes finding yours as you practically thrashed against him, your second orgasm hitting you with more force than the first. feeling the way you clamped around his cock was otherworldly. you felt so fucking tight, all thoughts left his brain the second you whimpered a ‘please cum inside me..’ cumming twice in less than twenty minutes? you couldn’t be real.

“f-fuck are you sure?” his hips stuttered, his load threatening to fill you up any second now. you met his eyes, a silent plea for him to do what you asked. burying his face in the crook of your neck, he softly bit the flesh there as he stilled, a guttural groan leaving his throat as he painted your insides with his seed. you cradled the back of his head, pushing yourself impossibly closer to him as the hot ropes of his cum filled you up.

still going through the aftershocks of your previous orgasm, you couldn’t help but squeeze around his length, milking him for all he had before he littered kisses across your bare chest. running your manicured nails down his back, rafe stayed caging you between his arms, his thrusts coming to a slow stop. the only sounds in the room were your uneven breaths, both of you panting softly. “baby?” rafe sounded spent, his voice shaking ever so lightly.

you hummed, blinking slowly before looking down at his face. oh, he was so handsome. “did i already tell you i love you?”

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pasukiyo · 2 years ago

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BEAUTIFUL THING

mike schmidt x f!reader word count; 2,573 warnings; smut, no plot, just porn :D summary; there was nothing in the world she wanted more than mike schmidt. but what were the chances he'd ever make a move on her?

She wanted Mike Schmidt.

Don’t get her wrong, she absolutely adored Abby, she was sweet, funny, and overall not a hard kid to take care of. But she knew all too well what her intentions were when she agreed to take up the babysitting job— how could she say no when he looked at her like that with those big, deep brown eyes?

It was another late night spent at the Schmidt house— Mike had just gotten himself a new job with unholy hours, some late night security gig he had no choice but to take. Her mouth opened in a yawn and through her bleary vision, she blinked down to the watch on her wrist.

4:30 AM. Mike wouldn’t be back for another hour and a half or so.

She sighed and threw her head back against the cushions, staring absentmindedly at the television as some old cartoon played, audio soft and muffled. She wasn’t sure why she even bothered trying to stay up for Mike— she’d been babysitting for him for months, (without pay, might she add) and still, neither he nor she had made any moves. She wasn’t even sure if he ever even intended to make a move on her.

But she was just so certain that he felt at least some sort of attraction towards her. She could see it in the way he looked at her, how his eyes would absentmindedly trail down her body against his better judgment, how he’d pull the inside of his bottom lip between his teeth while he did. She could see it in the way his body would react when she came too close, like when she gave him a handshake or playfully shoved his shoulder.

It was the same way she reacted when he was close.

Surely it couldn’t all be for nothing?

Her eyelids were falling heavy against her eyes and she slowly slumped further into the cushions of the couch, hands tightening around the blanket around her body. Sleep was so close that she could reach out and feel it, and she would’ve slipped into the arms of slumber if it hadn’t been for the opening and closing of the front door.

She grumbled and furrowed her brows down at her watch.

4:35 AM. Mike wasn’t supposed to be home yet.

At the notion, she jolted and snapped her head towards the entrance, her heart thrumming against her chest as she prepared herself for the sight of a total stranger, ready to make a run straight for Abby’s room. She blinked and narrowed her eyes at the dark silhouette of the figure as it hung its coat on the rack bolted on the wall.

“Sorry. S’ just me.”

She knew that voice. It was a voice she always dreamed about, a voice belonging to someone she’d seen practically everyday.

“Mike?” Her voice came out rough, having not spoken for hours, not since Abby had gone to bed. “What are you doing home so early?” She asked as she pushed herself further up the sofa while Mike made his way towards the recliner, wiping a hand down his face before plopping down into the seat. She could only make out his face through the light from the television but even then, she could sense something was off.

Mike tapped his fingers against the armrest of the recliner, “I… I just… needed to leave… I guess,” he replied and she frowned, scooting to the far side of the couch closest to him. “Is… is everything alright?” She questioned, unsure whether or not he needed consoling. Mike leaned further back into his seat and let his eyelids flutter closed, inhaling deep through his nostrils.

“Just… is Abby asleep?” He finally asked after a moment and she nodded, humming. “She went down earlier than usual. Actually managed to get her to eat something,” she replied, her lips curving into a smile but quickly faltering again when she realized Mike wasn’t going to reciprocate. He looked almost… distraught.

Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, she pondered her options. She’d known Mike for some time but even then, she still knew little to nothing about him. He slept a lot, that was for sure. And he loved his little sister and was trying so hard to be exactly the type of person she needed. But she knew nothing about him, Mike Schmidt himself. She didn’t know what he did in his free time, what he liked to eat, if he had hobbies, nothing.

Hell, she’d spent so much time fantasizing about him and filling in all the holes herself, she hardly even acknowledged that he could be somebody entirely else. She didn’t know the first thing about him.

But she could learn to try.

She leaned forward, a steady hand warily finding his on the armrest of the recliner and she flinched when Mike snapped his eyelids open, looking between her and their touching hands. Their gazes surged into one another and she made no moves, as if seeking any sign that she should stop.

Mike’s heart thrummed so hard inside his chest, it was a miracle that she couldn’t hear it. She looked at him as if she were asking permission— permission to what, he hadn’t even the slightest clue. But in spite of the voices inside of his head telling him he shouldn’t, that he shouldn’t let her, that he was wrong for her, he did. How could he say no when she looked at him like that, as if he were the most beautiful thing she’d ever laid eyes upon?

His silence gave her the confidence to let her fingers creep further down to the back of his hand, flipping it around until they rested against the heel of his palm. Slowly, she soothed the tips of her fingers up his palm until they fell between the cracks of his, letting her digits curl around his knuckles. Mike shuddered at the touch and let his own fingers press down against hers and he watched as she raised their intertwined hands to her mouth, their gazes molded together as she pressed her lips against his skin. His lips trembled as they fell open and he narrowed his eyes, clinging onto the last bit of restraint he had left.

“You can relax with me, Mike,” she whispered against his skin, pressing another soft kiss to the knuckle of his ring finger. “You don’t have to worry while I’m around.”

Mike pressed his lips back together and fought back the urge to groan at her words, his eyes wandering from their hands, down her arm, to her chest where it pressed against the edge of the sofa. His breath shuddered when he exhaled and the rubber band stretched inside of him finally released and with it, the last of his restraint.

Fuck it, he thought. It’s been long enough.

Mike tugged her closer by the hand and her lids widened, a squeal slipping from her lips, in which he was swift to eat right up, pressing his mouth against hers. With his hand not intertwined with hers, he gripped her hip, working his way up to her waist to squeeze. The sound she made was muffled inside their admittedly messy kiss and he pulled her even closer, her knees having nowhere to go but on the outside of his thighs.

Mike groaned and pulled away to catch his breath as her hips ground down against his, already feeling frustrated with the growing erection in his jeans. He blinked up at the woman on top of him, her arms thrown over his shoulders, her chest heaving as she chased air back into her lungs. She stared down at him with hazy irises, still bleary from lack of sleep.

“Sorry,” Mike finally managed to breathe out, his palms resting on either of her thighs. “Probably a little much, wasn’t it?”

He watched as the corners of her lips curved into a grin and she chuckled breathlessly, shaking her head. “Not enough,” she tittered as she surged her lips back into his, one of her hands on his shoulders slithering their way into his mess of dark tendrils, fingers curling and tugging at his roots. He hissed inside her mouth and dug his fingernails into her skin, a whimper falling from her lips, allowing him to take control of the situation.

He pressed himself forward and reached for the end of her t-shirt and she briefly broke away to allow the fabric up and over her head, her own fingers already working at the buckle of his belt. Mike leaned forward to pepper kisses all across the tops of her breasts and she threw her head back as he took over in undoing his belt, ripping it from his loops and throwing open the button and zipper of his jeans.

She clambered off of him as he raised his hips to tug his pants and boxers down just enough to allow his erection to spring free of its restraints, feeling her stomach do a somersault at the sight as she stripped herself of her own shorts and panties. Mike fought the urge to wrap his hands around his cock as she reached behind her back to undo the clasps of her bra and time seemed to slow as the straps fell from her shoulders, the lave toppling to the floor altogether.

He swore he could feel his mouth water and never before this moment had he wanted something, or someone, more. He blinked up at her, following her gaze down to his lap and at his erection that stood tall, waiting for her, dripping with pre-cum.

Mike cocked an eyebrow, “you just gonna stand there or you gonna take it?” He asked, voice low and husky and fuck, she thought she’d drop dead right then and there. Still, this was a dangerous game they were playing. “What about Abby?” She whispered, glancing towards the hallway where Abby’s room was. “What if she wakes up?”

Mike pressed his lips together and bucked his hips, raising a leg to softly give her calf a kick. “You can be quiet, right?” He murmured in question and she felt herself clench from his voice alone. Here Mike Schmidt was, cock out and erect, all because of her. This was something she had only dreamed of— never did she think that this would become reality.

Mike cocked his eyebrow again and she shook herself from her thoughts, taking his hand as he guided her back onto his lap. Her body shuddered and her bones rattled as she began to sink herself down, jolting when the tip brushed against her cunt, teeth sinking down into the plush of her bottom lip to contain her sounds.

“It’s okay,” Mike whispered. “I got you.”

Her eyes about rolled in the back of her head at that as his hands kneaded at the flesh of either of her hips, guiding her further down his length, making sure to go agonizingly slow to ensure she felt every single fucking inch of cock inside of her. Tears brimmed the outskirts of her eyelids as she finally sat still on his lap, filled to the brim with cock. Mike let her head fall down against the curve of his shoulder, burying her nose into the crook of his neck as she allowed time to adjust to his size, simultaneously trying to keep her sounds to a minimum.

“You’re so tight,” Mike’s breath shuddered in her ear and his voice made goosebumps litter her skin, his fingertips like the icy breath of a ghost against her back. “You think you can handle moving now?” He asked in a whisper against the shell of her ear and she nodded, letting him grab her thighs and push her further up his cock until just the head remained. She cried against his neck when he sank her all the way back down his length, the lewd noise of their wet skin slapping together making her clench around him. “Fff… uuck,” he dragged his curse out as he snapped his hips up against her.

“Shit!” She gasped as he thrusted again and again and again. And she let him. She let him use her in whatever way he pleased.

“Gonna be good for me?” He muttered next to her ear. “Gonna let me take care of you, hm?” She nodded, bobbing her head up and down against his shoulder as he snapped his hips up to hers again and again, daring the coil inside her belly to snap. “Think you can handle it?” He asked again and she nodded once more, crying and biting down on his collar. “Yes!” She cried, fortunately muffled against his skin.

So Mike thrusted again, harder and harder, chasing that high, that release he so desperately needed. He could tell she was close— it’d probably been so long since she’d been stuffed by cock like this. She’d probably been waiting for this moment just as long as he has.

With the pad of his thumb, he pressed down against her aching bud and Mike could feel a fresh new set of tears soak his skin as she cried, bucking her hips into his touch. His thrusts were as sloppy as they were powerful and she wasn’t sure how much more she could take.

“Mmm… Mike… I’m… I’m gonna…” she hardly managed to stutter out, slowly feeling the coil inside her stomach as it began to unravel.

“Yeah?” Mike said, his other hand wrapped around her neck and pushing her forehead down against his, gazing up at her closed eyelids. He rolled his head against hers, “look at me,” he breathed out and watched as she slowly fluttered her lids back open, just as more fat tears beaded down her cheeks. The sight was enough to get him to teeter on the edge himself.

“Gonna come?” He asked and she nodded, sweat-slicked forehead lolling against his. He nodded too, already feeling her release around him as she spawned around his cock, relying solely on him and his body to keep herself up. She buried her face in the crook of his neck again as she whined and cried, Mike’s thrusts speeding up as he gave himself that final push he needed to send himself reeling, spiraling and shaking with the force of his release.

“Fuck,” he growled into the skin just below her ear, squeezing his eyelids shut tighter as he willed himself to keep his sounds on the low, for the sake of his little sister sleeping just in the other room.

Silence fell over Mike and the babysitter for a good, long moment as they both recovered from their highs, chasing air back into their lungs as the realization of what they had just done began to sink in. Mike should be mortified— she was his sister’s babysitter, he doesn’t have time for this, she doesn’t deserve him, he shouldn't have done this.

But the woman in his lap settled herself closer into him, nuzzling her nose against the crook of his neck, her lips like a crescent moon against his skin as she placed a soft kiss to his flesh there.

“I hope you’re okay, Mike,” she whispered and he threw his head back, an arm thrown around her body as he stared up at the ceiling. How could he push her away now?

a/n; so yeah!!! i watched fnaf on friday and it kinda sorta just brought back my whole josh hutcherson phase so enjoy!! this was just a quick little something i wrote up and there's like no plot at all and not proofread LMAO

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf movie #fnaf #josh hutcherson #michael afton #michael afton x reader

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pacofprunes · 6 months ago

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I CAN’T SEE!

things get steamy between you and namgyu, and so do his glasses.

short drabble, smut, 18+

you and namgyu had been sitting on the couch watching a movie while cuddled up together. namgyus vision wasn’t perfect, so he carried around a pair of glasses for reading and looking at screens for awhile. he slid his pair on halfway through the movie, and when you looked up at him to give him a kiss and got a good look of him in those glasses, god, you think you just fell in love again.

“don’t drool on yourself.”

you frown and slap his shoulder and he laughs. you turn your face away from him and you feel his cold hand grab your cheek, pulling your face back to him, watching you look back up at him with those gorgeous eyes before grabbing your face with his other hand and pressing you into a kiss. a deep one. you quickly grab the back of his head, reciprocating before it intensifies to a make out sesh. his tongue slides in your mouth and he pulls you onto his lap, continuing the make out, not letting up anytime soon. after awhile, he finally pulls away and looks up at you with a cheeky grin before pushing his glasses to the bridge of his nose.

“you look hot as fuck with your glasses on.”

“huh. i guess i should wear em’ more if you’re gonna treat me like this.”

you scoff.

“don’t act like i treat you bad.”

“i mean, i haven’t gotten to look up at your pretty face like this for awhile.”

he strokes a hand across your check and down to your neck before pulling you back into him, his face now in the crook of your neck, his breaths tickling you and causing your hairs to stick up. he slowly starts sucking on your neck for long enough that you knew your neck would practically be painted purple by the morning. while he’s doing this you start palming him through his pants, teasing him by sliding a hand into his pants. he grunts against your neck before placing a rough bite against it, making you to jump against him and causing some extra stimulation to his dick, making him throw his head back against the couch. now it was your turn to place your face against his neck and place slow kisses and hickeys. he runs his hand through your hair before removing his glasses and running a hand against his face and wiping the sweat off, before putting them back on and laughing, causing you to look up and be met with the sight of namgyu and the absolute foggiest glasses you’ve ever seen on his face.

“i can’t see.”

“i can tell.”

you put your head down to stop yourself from breaking out into a fit of laughter and he takes his glasses off and grabs a bit of his shirt, rubbing them against the fabric to remove the steam before putting them back on and feeling you and all of your curves up, pulling you all the way down by your hips onto his dick, starting to grind against you.

“geez namgyu, never seen you so needy.”

you tease. he just scoffs before shutting you up with another deep kiss that slowly turns into another. make out sesh while you grind against each other. the movie in the back now getting absolutely tuned out. he takes one of his hands away from your face and puts it in your pants, palming your pussy before pushing one of his long fingers in you. you moan against his mouth and he just pushes his tongue against yours before pushing a second finger in you. he pulls away for a second, pressing his forehead against yours, his fingers still moving in you before he mumbles something against your lips still breathing heavily.

“you can take three, can’t you?”

you nod against him, the sweat on the two of you practically causing you to stick together before he kisses you deeply again, sliding a third finger in you, feeling your walls clamp against his fingers, threatening to swallow them whole. he smiles against you the moment he feels you cum on his fingers, slowly pulling them out and letting your pussy hold onto him, begging him to stay. he places his hand on the inside of your thigh, squeezing it a little before removing his glasses yet again, scoffing and you just laugh.

“geez, i’m gonna need to take these off if i wanna see your pretty face while i fuck you, huh?”

#squid game x reader #squid game smut #namgyu x reader #nam gyu x reader #namgyu smut #nam gyu smut #player 124 x reader #player 124 smut #player 124 #namgyu #nam gyu #squid game #squid game drabble #squid game oneshot

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witchywithwhiskey · 8 months ago

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only man allowed

pairing: toxic!bucky barnes x toxic!female reader

summary: you're feeling particularly needy one night, but when you text your situationship to come over, he reminds you that he won't wear a condom, which is a problem since it's a risky time of the month for you. but you tell him to come over anyway.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), established situationship, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering (f receiving), consensual non-consent and consensual sexual coercion, sexual roleplay, 'just the tip' trope, breeding kink, bdsm elements, some biting and marking, some dacryphilia, some pain play, dirty talk, daddy kink, praise kink, degradation kink, pet names (baby), begging, teasing, multiple orgasms, aftercare, taking and sending nude photos, possessive behavior, toxic behavior, jealousy, referenced but not shown situationship between reader and john walker, very anti-john walker behavior

word count: 8.5k

a/n: listen, i definitely wrote this at a certain time of the month and i'm not going to apologize for it!!! what i will apologize for is the fact that this ended up being way longer than i expected!! i wanted these to be short little fics, but apparently toxic bucky won't let me keep things short 🤭 anyway, this was fun to write and i hope y'all enjoy it!! ♡

you ain't my boyfriend and i ain't your girlfriend series masterlist

You missing me, baby?

You could perfectly imagine the arrogant smirk on Bucky Barnes’ stupidly handsome face and the playful glint of mischief in his eye as he asked you that question in response to the picture you’d sent. It was a hastily taken photo of your body clad only in one of Bucky’s t-shirts, your fingers pulling up the hem to show a pair of panties—the ones that had made him groan like he was being tortured when he’d first seen them.

The truth was, you were missing him. You were horny as fuck and you didn’t care if he knew it—which, you were certain he did, because you only ever sent him lewd photos of yourself when you wanted him—but would it kill Bucky to show a little bit of reciprocity, instead of sending you that teasing response?

It didn’t matter that his playfully cocky words only drove your need higher, your body warming as heat flooded between your thighs. You were missing Bucky’s brand of arrogance, and it was all you could think about, the deep rasp of his voice in your ear while he pounded into you, the dirty and depraved things he’d say as his cock slid into your pussy, stretching you out just the way you needed.

You knew, without even touching yourself, that neither your fingers nor your toys would be enough for you that evening. You needed Bucky. Not John Walker, not any of the other guys on your roster—only Bucky Barnes could satisfy the need burning through your body.

So you rolled onto your knees and lowered your upper body to your bed, arching your ass high in the air. You positioned your phone and took a photo of your curved ass, barely clad in your panties, with the TV on your dresser also in frame. You took photos until you got one that you liked well enough and sent it to Bucky.

I’m bored, come chill.

Your text deliberately didn’t acknowledge Bucky’s question—and you weren’t asking him to come over, you were demanding it. You refused to beg a guy like Bucky Barnes, who refused to be exclusive with you, to come over and fuck you.

But you knew the simple request would drag him away from whatever he was doing on that Saturday evening and get him to your apartment.

So you were surprised when he texted back and didn’t immediately say he was on his way.

You sure? If we end up fucking, I’m not wearing a condom.

The second you finished reading Bucky’s text, you shoved your face into one of your pillows and let out a frustrated groan. Of course Bucky hadn’t forgotten you were in the process of switching to a new birth control and you’d told him that if he was going to fuck you, he’d have to wear a condom.

He’d taken it better than you expected—especially for a guy who claimed sex with you “didn’t feel as good” when he wore a condom. He hadn’t thrown a tantrum or tried to talk you into fucking bare while it was unsafe. He’d seemed happy enough with handjobs and blowjobs, and had always reciprocated by getting you off with his fingers or mouth.

But you could tell from his text that he was reaching his limit and, truthfully, so were you.

You missed the feeling of Bucky’s bare cock sliding into you, the heat of his stiff length and the drag of his veins against your sensitive inner walls. You were desperate to feel his cum flooding your cunt, filling you up with his seed while his balls twitched against your ass or clit, and he groaned low and deep in your ear.

Bucky was the only man on your roster allowed to fuck you bare, and it was entirely contingent on him swearing on his mother’s grave that you were the only girl he fucked without a condom. As far as you knew, Bucky had kept his promise—which you knew because you made him get tested at the local clinic at least once a month.

Still, you were only four weeks in to the 4-6 week period where your doctor had told you to use secondary methods of birth control while you were switching prescriptions. And you were so horny that you were probably ovulating—but you wanted Bucky so bad you could barely think.

In fact, the thought of letting Bucky cum inside you when it wasn’t a safe time of the month, and was extra not safe because you were switching your birth control, turned you on so much, your whole body shivered with need. Something about the idea, how risky it was, how it might mean Bucky would knock you up, was too good to be ignored.

You were so horny, you were seconds away from shoving a pillow between your thighs simply so you’d have something to hump against. That probably should’ve been a sign that you weren’t thinking clearly, but instead, it had you making up your mind.

You decided having Bucky over—having him fuck you raw—was worth the risk. In a brief moment of clarity, you reasoned with yourself that there was always the morning after pill. That was good enough for you.

So you texted him back.

I’m sure.

Bucky showed up to your apartment so soon after you texted him that you were sure that he either broke a number of traffic laws driving over from wherever he’d been, or he’d already been on his way. You loved both ideas, and didn’t want him to give you another reason, so you opted not to ask.

But for how fast he’d gotten to your place, he seemed content to take his time getting to the main event. When you opened the door, you’d been expecting (or, rather, hoping) he’d pounce on you. Instead, he pulled you into his arms and gave you a brief, chaste kiss, asking how your week was and how you’d been since he last saw you.

Then, as you entertained his desire for small talk, Bucky made himself comfortable, stretching out on your bed after kicking off his shoes and beckoning you to curl up with him. You did so, a little warily, and even put on a show you’d seen a million times since you figured Bucky would distract you from it soon enough.

But he didn’t.

You lasted all of five minutes before you were lifting your head from Bucky’s chest to look at him, surprised to find the guy you’d texted to come over and fuck you was seemingly engrossed in your show. You whined his name in a pitiful voice, “Bucky.”

The arrogant smirk you’d pictured when he’d texted you earlier spread across his face and he squeezed you tighter in his hard, muscled arms.

“Shhh, baby, watch your show,” he rumbled, rolling you onto your back so he was curled around your side, throwing a leg over yours and burying his scruffy face in your neck. “I’m just here to chill, right?” There was a teasing note in his voice that had you huffing out a frustrated sound.

“Bucky…” you grumbled, even as you shifted your head on your pillows to give him easier access to your neck. He rewarded you by kissing your soft skin, sending a tendril of heat curling down your spine and settling heavily between your thighs. “You know this isn’t what I meant when I told you to come over.”

Bucky lifted himself up onto his forearm, hovering above you so he could stare down into your eyes. His arrogant smirk had slipped off his face, leaving a serious expression as he took in the pinched, frustrated look on yours. He seemed to come to some kind of decision as he stared at you.

“It’s not a safe time for you, right, baby?” he asked, each word said slowly, intentionally, another meaning laced within. “You don’t want me to tell you that I’m horny as fuck and the only thing I want is to bury my bare cock in you and cum in your unprotected pussy—you don’t want me to try to talk you into it, to coerce you, right, baby?”

At his filthy words, your heart thundered in your chest and your pulse thrummed between your thighs, and for a brief, blistering moment, you considered throwing a whole entire hissy fit because that’s not what you wanted. You wanted the opposite of what Bucky was saying—and then the deeper meaning in his words hit you.

Bucky wasn’t really asking if you wanted him to be nice and respectful of the boundaries you’d set, even though you’d already essentially given him permission to ignore them. He was asking if you wanted to play along with the idea that you were reluctant to let him fuck you without a condom while you were at risk of getting knocked up.

“That’s not what you want, is it, baby?” Bucky rumbled, his gaze holding yours as he nodded his head slowly, the gesture so at odds with his words, it could only mean he was asking you the opposite of what he said.

You’d been eager for Bucky to fuck you—you were so horny, it was the only thing you could think about—but the opportunity of playing this game with him was too enticing to pass up. Pretending to be reluctant, pretending to slowly give in to Bucky’s whims when it was what you both really wanted, would only make the sex that much hotter.

An excited smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, and you saw Bucky’s gaze drop to your lips, his own face flickering with elation as he took in your reaction. You waited until his eyes returned to yours before you answered him.

“Noooo, that’s definitely not what I want, daddy,” you whimpered huskily, the barest hint of sarcasm in your tone as you struggled to stop from smirking. Your head was nodding just as Bucky’s had, and he was the first to break, an eager grin spreading across his face.

He ducked down and brushed another frustratingly brief kiss to your lips. “You got it, baby, no fucking tonight—just chilling,” he murmured, a teasing tone in his voice that had your body tingling with anticipation.

You were less surprised that time when Bucky snuggled back down on top of you, his mouth going back to your neck where he was working on sucking a hickey into the side of your throat.

Since you knew the game you were playing, it was a little easier to settle in and watch your show, all the while trying to forget the way your pussy was pulsing with need. Still, you wouldn’t have said it was easy to ignore the steady twitching of Bucky’s cock against your thigh as he hardened in his sweatpants.

It only got more difficult to keep your attention on your show when Bucky’s hand slid under your shirt, his fingers trailing idly over your stomach until he eventually reached your tits. He began kneading your soft flesh lazily, his fingers plucking teasingly at your nipples, while his mouth sucked on your neck.

Despite how obvious it was that Bucky was taking his time, it wasn’t long before you were a wet, whimpering mess beneath him.

“Bucky, w-we shouldn’t fool around,” you murmured breathily, mouth tripping over the words as you voiced the exact opposite of what you wanted. It was like your lips didn’t want to play the game you’d started, but you were rewarded for their effort by his frustrated growl, which had you throbbing between your thighs.

“It’s fine, baby, we’re not doing anything we shouldn’t…” he rumbled against your neck, his teeth nipping at your sensitive skin and making you shiver.

The word “yet” hung unspoken in what little space there was between your bodies, and the promise of it had you warming even more, pressing your thighs together against the ache pulsing in your core. “Bucky,” you whimpered his name, your hips twisting toward him like they had a mind of their own.

“Are ya getting wet, baby?” he asked teasingly in your ear, his fingers tripping down your body until they skimmed along the hem of your panties. All you could do was whine in response and Bucky chuckled. “Yeah, I bet you’re dripping for me.”

Your chest was already heaving with heavier breaths just from the way Bucky was teasing his fingers beneath the edge of your panties, taking his sweet time going any lower to where you really needed him. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, and your intention had been to shove his hand deeper into your panties so he’d finally touch your pussy, but instead he stopped.

“Don’t worry, baby, ‘m not gonna fuck you, no matter how wet your pretty little pussy is,” Bucky murmured in your ear, brushing a kiss to your cheek.

Though his words might’ve sounded reassuring, his tone was a deliciously teasing rumble and you could feel his smirk against your cheek. Your body trembled, your thighs parting for Bucky of their own accord, which had him humming a pleased sound.

“Good girl, just let me feel you.”

Bucky’s fingers finally dipped into your panties and slid down to your pussy, a breathy little moan bursting from your lips. The feel of his warm, skilled fingers slipping through your soaking wet folds, bumping against your clit before swirling around your aching, clenching hole, was almost too much.

You had to bite your lip against the urge to beg Bucky to fuck you already, not wanting to ruin the game that was making everything hotter. But he seemed to lose himself for a moment, burying his face in your neck and groaning while his fingers slipped between your swollen and soppy lower lips.

“Fucking hell, baby, you’re drenched for me,” Bucky growled, his voice low and no longer teasing. His fingers were dipping shallowly into your hole and spreading your wetness around, making a mess of your pussy. “You feel so fucking ripe, I gotta feel it—gotta feel you against my cock.”

Bucky was already pushing your panties down your thighs, rising above you and tearing his shirt off over his head before tugging your own shirt from your body.

At the same time, you were kicking your panties from around your ankles and spreading your legs, sitting up shove at the waistband of Bucky’s sweatpants. When his cock bounced free, you reached for his perfect length, saliva already pooling in your mouth as you gave his girth a reverent stroke.

But then Bucky was urging you back down, guiding your shoulders to the bed and covering your body with his own. You arched up into his warmth while he settled between your thighs, your fingers clinging to his sides.

His darkened eyes were fixed on the juncture of your legs, his fingers going back to playing through your wetness and spreading it around to make a mess of your pussy. Occasionally, he’d bump against your clit, which made your body jolt every time he brushed the needy bundle of nerves.

Bucky felt so good, and you were so close to getting what you really wanted—his cock inside you—but you forced yourself to remember the game you were playing.

You grabbed Bucky’s face in both hands, tipping it up so you could catch his eye. There was an almost dazed look on his face, but he blinked and focused back on you.

“It isn’t a safe time of the month,” you said, as sternly as you could manage. But your breaths were coming too quickly for there to be much steel in your voice. Bucky’s thumb brushed over your clit purposefully and your hips bore down on his hand, your body begging for more as you whined, “You can’t fuck me bare, Bucky.”

“I won’t, baby,” Bucky purred, wrapping the fingers that were sticky with your desire around the hard length of his cock. He chuckled when you whimpered at the loss of his touch, leaning down over you and brushing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Just let me rub against you—you’re so wet, it’ll feel so good. I won’t push inside your drippy little pussy, baby, I promise.”

You knew he was lying, and you knew Bucky knew you knew he was lying. For some reason, that made everything so much hotter. So did playing the reluctant participant, which was why you bit your lip with fake nervousness as you stared up at Bucky, your panting breaths adding even more uncertainty to your voice when you spoke.

“Oh-okay, daddy, you can rub against me—but no more.”

The words were barely out of your mouth before Bucky was sliding his thick, hard cock between your pussy lips, making you moan and spread your legs wider, raising your knees toward your chest to give him all the access he needed.

Bucky let out a groan and dropped down to cover you with his body, his arms digging beneath your back to hold you pinned tightly against his chest. Your sensitive nipples rubbed against him, teasing you relentlessly.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” Bucky rumbled, rocking his hips so his cock dragged between your swollen, dripping folds, rubbing against your clit and sending sparks of pleasure swirling through your body. “So wet… You’re making a fucking mess on my cock, baby.”

“Oh god,” you whimpered in Bucky’s ear, your body shuddering under the onslaught of blistering pleasure and aching emptiness in your core.

You wrapped your arms around Bucky’s shoulders, hands digging into his soft brown hair and holding onto him while his hips kept rocking into the cradle of your body, his cock grinding against your clit until you were gushing with wetness all over his stiff length.

“Doesn’t it feel good, baby?” Bucky murmured in your ear, his voice sweetly entreating, like he was trying to convince you of something, though you were already very well aware that his hard shaft grinding into your dripping wet pussy felt better than it had any right. “You’re creaming all over daddy’s cock, baby—tell me how good it feels.”

“Nngh, so goooood,” you keened, hooking your ankles around the backs of Bucky’s thighs to get better leverage to grind against his hard length. You were caught between wanting more and wanting to keep grinding against him. “Your cock feels sooo good, daddy, so big and hard against my drippy pussy.”

“Fuck, ‘m so hard for you,” Bucky groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder as he rutted into your soft, drenched folds with rough, punishing thrusts. “My dick’s throbbing for your cunt, baby, can you feel it?”

He pressed his shaft deep into your slit, the flared head of his cock bullying your clit, and you could feel it. You could feel the pulse in his hard length, joining the rhythm in your center.

Your body reacted on instinct, your inner walls clenching hard around nothing while you whined his name, “Buckyyy.”

“I can feel you, baby,” Bucky rumbled, the teasing tone back in his voice. “I can feel your cunt mouthing at my cock.”

Bucky’s words sounded so deliciously depraved that you wanted to turn your head and kiss him, to taste his debauchery straight from his tongue. You knew he had a filthy mouth, but his dirty talk was even hotter because of the game you were playing—and he just kept talking.

“Feels like ya want me to fuck you, baby,” he cooed, lifting his head to speak directly in your ear. “Does your pretty little cunt wanna get fucked?”

It was on the tip of your tongue to scream, ‘Yes!’ You wanted to get fucked so bad. You practically desperate for Bucky to push inside you and impale you on his cock, to pump into your pussy bare and cum inside you. You managed to bite it back at the last second for the sake of the role you were playing, but you couldn’t get any other words out.

When you were quiet, save for your panting breaths while Bucky’s hips kept up their torturous rocking, he lifted himself, bracing on his forearms so he could hover above you and see your face. He raised an eyebrow in question, his body slowing its movement as his gaze raked over your face, uncertainty flickering in the depths of his blue eyes.

It was clear he was questioning whether you still wanted to play the game you’d both started, and the fact that he was taking the time to check in with you had your heart squeezing uncomfortably in your chest.

It was an annoying reminder that Bucky wasn’t the kind of man to be selfish and self-absorbed in bed. Even if he was only your situationship, he made sure you were enjoying everything he was doing.

And you wanted him to know you were enjoying yourself very much—and that you still wanted to play the role you’d been given.

“I want you so bad, Bucky.” The words tumbled from your lips as you gave in to the urge to assuage Bucky’s concern. “I want you so bad, but we shouldn’t,” you whined, pouting up at him as you slipped back into the game.

The furrow of concern smoothed itself from Bucky’s brow and he smirked before ducking down to capture your lips in a quick kiss.

His hips began rocking into you again, and he swallowed your responding moan greedily. He groaned himself when you used your ankles hooked around his thighs to grind back against him, your soft, wet pussy sliding against the rough ridge of his cock and making a mess of both of you.

“What if I…what if I just push the tip in?” Bucky rasped, pulling away and catching your eye, a smirk fluttered at the edges of his mouth, like he was trying to hold it back but was failing. “Just the tip—just let me feel you. Please, baby, I wanna feel you so fucking bad.”

Bucky bowed his head, pressing sweet kisses to your collarbones, a barely restrained chuckle rumbling his chest. It seemed he’d lost the battle with being able to keep a straight face and you couldn’t blame him, your mouth was spread in a mischievous grin while your nails raked through his short brown hair.

“It’s not safe,” you reminded him, but there was an edge of glee in your tone.

You couldn’t hide the fact that you were having fun with Bucky, playing out the little game he’d started. You were so close to getting what you wanted, that it only made it more difficult to pretend you didn’t want it.

So when you murmured, “If you cum inside me, Bucky…” your voice was breathless with desire, and you had to cut yourself off to bite back the moan that wanted to be set free.

Bucky smirked against your neck, his teeth nipping playfully at the mark he’d left on your throat before he responded. “It’s just the tip, baby, promise—I won’t cum inside you.”

Had it always been so easy for you to hear when Bucky was lying, or had he given up on the pretense of the game so much that it was even more obvious?

The question flitted across your mind but didn’t stay long. You were too busy gasping a quick, “Ok,” your hips tilting, trying to catch the tip of Bucky’s cock in your hole on one of his grinding thrusts. However, it wasn’t until he pulled his hips back that the head of his hard length notched at your tight, clenching pussy.

Both of you held your breath when Bucky pushed inside. He stopped when just the tip was nestled inside the entrance of your warm, wet cunt.

“Fuuuck,” Bucky groaned, pressing his face into the side of your neck, his hot breath fanning over the hollow of your throat and his scruff rasping against your sensitive skin. “You’re so fucking warm, baby,” he rumbled into your neck, the sensation of his mouth against your throat making you shiver all over. “Gotta do it again.”

His muttered words were your only warning before his hips reared back, the broad tip of his cock pulling free from your grasping hole. A tortured whimper slipped from your mouth before you could stop it, and Bucky chuckled as he slid back inside you, your pitiful sound dissolving into a moan when the head of his cock popped into your cunt.

“Yeah, that feels good, doesn’t it?” Bucky crooned in your ear, doing it again, slower that time, making you feel every tiny bit of his tip pushing into your weeping hole. “My cock sliding into your drippy little cunt—you’re so fucking wet for me, aren’t you, baby?”

“Yes, Bucky, so wet for you,” you echoed, unable to do more when all your focus was on not impaling yourself on Bucky’s cock. Your body squirmed beneath his larger form, one of Bucky’s big hands pressing down on your hip like he knew you were barely holding back from pushing yourself down on his cock.

“It would be so easy for me to slide all the way inside, don’t ya think, baby?” Bucky purred in a teasing tone, his hips rocking forward until he’d pushed another inch deeper before pulling back so only the tip was inside you again.

Just that little tease had you moaning mindlessly beneath Bucky, tears of desire and frustration springing to your eyes.

Your arms wrapped tightly around Bucky’s shoulders and your legs hooked around the backs of his thighs, trying to pull him in deeper. You needed more, to hell with the game you’d been playing. You needed him inside you already.

“Bucky, please,” you begged on a sob, pressing your face into his cheek.

“I can feel your cunt gripping me, baby, sucking on me—she wants me to push deeper,” Bucky rumbled in your ear, a gruffness to his voice that told you he was reaching the limit of his patience with the game as well.

In that moment, you’d have done anything to get Bucky to fuck you properly, but before you could speak, he went on.

“Do you want it, baby?” he asked, his voice rough as crushed rock, his own breaths hot and heavy against your skin. “Want my cock buried deep inside you, filling you up and fucking you hard?”

“Yes, Bucky, please,” you gasped, your hands diving into his hair and pulling his head up so you could look him in the eye. You had to blink the tears from your eyes to do it, but you didn’t want there to be any confusion about what you wanted. “Fuck me, daddy, please!”

A slow, depraved grin spread across Bucky’s face as his eyes roved over your tear-stained cheeks. You felt the tip of his cock twitch inside you, and your body gave an answering clench, like it was begging him to slide inside. But Bucky seemed happy to let his eyes wander over your face, relishing the sight of you crying and begging him to fuck you.

It felt like a small eternity before his gaze met yours again and he seemed ready to give you what you wanted.

“But don’t cum inside you, right, baby?” Bucky asked, a devious tone in his voice. His hips pulled back and thrust forward slowly, pushing his big cock inside you at a torturous pace. Bucky’s grin was teasing as he went on, murmuring, “Wouldn’t want daddy knocking you up, right, baby?”

At Bucky’s words, something inside you snapped. Your mind went blank and your body moved on its own, your legs hiking up Bucky’s sides to wrap tightly around his lower back. Your heels dug into his firm ass and you whined loudly until he let you pull him deeper inside you.

Bucky’s cock impaled you with one thrust, a pleasured grunt slipping from his mouth, half-muffled against your neck. He filled you up all the way to the root of his thick cock and you moaned, long and loud in his ear.

You finally got what you wanted. Finally, you were full of his cock.

Bucky was buried so deep inside you that you could feel his balls pressed against your ass—his big, heavy balls, full of the seed you desperately wanted him to pump inside you. The desire left you dizzy and dazed, your body thrumming with a need to be filled, to be knocked up, to be bred by your situationship.

“Breed me, Bucky,” you whispered breathlessly in his ear.

He stilled for a very brief second, but then he was groaning obscenely, sucking hard on the hickey he’d already left. Whether it was a reward or a punishment, you didn’t know—nor did you care.

“Oh fuck,” Bucky grunted, his legs shifting on your bed and repositioning himself to fight against the stranglehold you had on his body.

He pushed up onto his forearms so he could hover above you, his eyes raking over your face as he rolled his hips to fuck you in hard, shallow thrusts that had your lips parting, punched-out whines slipping from your mouth.

You were so consumed in basking in your pleasure that it took you a moment to realize Bucky had gone quiet—quieter than he normally was when he was fucking you. It took another moment for you to blink your vision back into focus and when you did, you sucked in a sharp breath at the look of pure, depraved desire on Bucky’s face.

“Do you have something you want to tell me, baby?” he asked dryly, lifting an eyebrow in question. Before you could answer, he ducked down and captured your lips in a searing kiss, the heat of his tongue flicking into your mouth making you moan. “Does my girl have a breeding kink she failed to tell me about?” he asked in a teasing tone, plunging his cock deep into your pussy and grinding hard against a spot inside you that had you seeing stars.

“Not your girl,” you managed to gasp, even through the pleasure.

A low growl rumbled in Bucky’s chest, but it cut off abruptly. It seemed your situationship didn’t like being reminded that he wasn’t the only one who fucked you. Bucky nipped at your bottom lip, biting it a little harshly, making your pussy clench around his cock as you whined through the brief sting.

“Does John fucking Walker know about your breeding kink?” Bucky seethed, his voice suddenly furious. His anger was reflected in the way he picked up the pace of his hips, fucking you in rough, hard thrusts that had you crying out and clinging to his shoulders, your nails sinking deep into his golden skin. “Do you let John fucking Walker fuck you raw—fucking tell me, baby.”

“No,” you cried, tears of pleasure slipping from your eyes and trailing down your temples into your hair. Bucky’s lips found the salty tears and he kissed them from your skin, making your heart and pussy clench simultaneously. “You’re the only one allowed to fuck me bare, Bucky, you know that.”

“That’s fucking right,” he growled, punctuating each of his words with brutal thrusts. “I’m the only man who fucks this pussy raw,” he went on in a gruff, furious voice, raising up onto his arms so he could look you in the eye. “I’m the only man who cums inside this cunt, who fills you up until you’re leaking my seed all down your pretty thighs—I’m the only man who breeds you, isn’t that right, baby?”

“Yes—yes, Bucky, only you,” you cried, squirming beneath him, using your ankles hooked around his thighs to meet Bucky’s thrusts. It didn’t even occur to you to fight him on his possessive questions—he was right. He was the only one allowed to do all those things. “Only you, only you—please, I need you to breed me Bucky!”

You were getting close, but before you could tumble over the edge of your release, Bucky sat up, breaking the hold of your arms as he pushed up onto his knees. You let out a frustrated wail, but stopped short at the expression on Bucky’s face.

The look in his eye was wild, nearly feral. His hands were rough and possessive when he grabbed your plush thighs, pushing them up toward your chest until you were folded in half. His cock was still inside you, but not nearly as deep as you wanted it in the position Bucky was in.

Your hips squirmed, a whine working its way up your throat before spilling free.

Bucky leaned back down on top of you, pinning your legs to your chest and your body to the bed as his cock slid deeper until you were so full of him, you swore you could feel him in womb—even though you knew that was impossible.

He stayed like that, buried inside you, his cock stretching out your tight cunt while he rocked his hips, grinding deeper into you. All the while, he stared at you, his gaze glittering with the wildness that spoke of a deep-rooted possessiveness, but when he spoke, his voice was deceptively sweet.

“You want daddy to breed you, baby?” Bucky cooed in your ear, his mouth pressing wet, messy kisses to your cheek and jaw. “You knew it wasn’t a safe time of the month, and you let me fuck you raw anyway—such a silly little cumslut pretending you didn’t want it, but you do, right, baby?”

All you could manage was a punched-out, “Uh huh,” Bucky’s heavy weight pressing the air from your lungs while he crushed you to the bed. He shifted a little, so you could breathe, but it didn’t seem to matter that you’d responded, because he went on as if he hadn’t even heard you.

“You wanna feel my fat cock bruising your cervix, baby?” he huffed, pausing only to nip at the lobe of your ear with his teeth, making you clench hard around his cock. His next words came out on a filthy groan, pouring into your ear and settling deep in your mind. “Ya want me to flood your fertile little cunt with my seed and breed you—is that it?”

You were half feral yourself with desire, with your need to cum—with your need to feel him cum inside you—and you weren’t sure if Bucky was checking in with you, or if he was getting off on teasing you, but you rushed to answer, telling him the truth.

“God, Bucky, yes—please,” you whined, your fingers digging into his soft hair and towing his head until your mouth found his, kissing him messily while he kept fucking you in hard, rough thrusts. “Fill me up with your cum, daddy, make me your pretty little cumdump, please, I want it—I need it!” you cried into Bucky’s mouth, your words half muffled because neither of you wanted to pull away.

“Jesus fucking christ, baby,” Bucky grunted, his hot breath panting past your lips. You felt his mouth curve into a sly smirk. “First you don’t want me to fuck you because it isn’t safe,” he murmured in a teasing tone. “And now you want me to breed your little pussy full of cum—which is it, baby, d’you want me to pull out or cum inside your unprotected cunt?”

A mindless moan slipped from your lips at his filthy question, your mind going entirely blank for a split second. All you could do was feel—Bucky’s thick cock pounding into your pussy, the tip hitting a spot inside you that felt so good, you never wanted him to stop. It was too good, you didn’t want him to pull out, even if it would’ve been the smart decision.

“Breed me, daddy,” you begged in a throaty, desperate voice. “Breed me, cum inside me—please, please, please!”

“Fuck,” Bucky cursed, but he sounded pleased, too. “I’m so fucking close, baby, so close to draining my balls in your tight little cunt.”

His body shifted and then he was pounding into you in a new, better angle, making you feel impossibly good as you careened toward the edge of your release.

“Tell me, baby,” he rasped, his forehead pressed to yours. “Tell me you never let John fucking Walker cum inside you—tell me I’m the only man allowed to breed you.”

You whined, well aware you’d already told him—and he already knew he was the only one allowed to cum inside you. But it fed the possessiveness Bucky felt, and it felt good to give him that, so you did.

“You’re the only one,” you promised in a thready voice, your pleasure dripping from every word. “The only man allowed to cum inside me—you’re the only man allowed to breed me, daddy!”

Bucky captured your mouth in a dominating kiss, his tongue plunging past your lips like he was desperate to fuck as many of your holes at the same time as possible. You moaned into his mouth, gripping his face and holding him close while you sucked on his tongue, your nails raking through the scruff on his jaw, both of you groaning at how good the other felt.

Finally, Bucky managed to wrench himself away from your clinging grip and his face hovered above yours, a devious smirk on his plump lips.

“Ya know I heard,” he started, his voice a little breathless and gruff, the deep sound of it singing through your body and making you shiver as your pussy pulsed around his thrusting cock. “If you cum at the same time as me, you’re more likely to get knocked up.”

A violent shiver raced down your spine and your pussy clenched hard around Bucky’s cock. His words were going to be the end of you, you just knew it, but what a glorious end it would be.

Bucky grinned at your body’s reaction, looking far too pleased with himself, though you were too far gone in your pleasure to try to wipe that smirk off his face. Not that he gave you much opportunity, ducking down to murmur in your ear.

“Rub your clit, baby, I wanna feel you cumming on my cock while I’m knocking you up.”

“Oh my god, Bucky,” you whimpered pleasure spiraling through you at his words, but you did as he said.

You slipped your hand between your bodies, finding your clit messy and sticky with your desire, your fingertips brushing the thick shaft of Bucky’s cock as he fucked you. Rubbing your clit in ruthless little circles, your body pulled tight.

“Bucky, I’m gonna cum—don’t stop!”

Your mouth dropped open in a silent scream as the coiled tension in your body finally shattered, and you came with a strangled cry, pleasure consuming your mind and body.

Your release washed over you in waves of bliss that were so intense, you could feel your arms and legs trembling, your cunt clenching hard around Bucky’s thick length that was still plunging deep into your grasping channel.

“That’s it, baby, cum on daddy’s cock,” Bucky rasped, brushing sloppy kisses to your face as he rutted into you, his thrusts turning wild and rough. “You feel so fucking good, baby, you’re doing so good for me, gonna make me a daddy for real, baby—Jesus fuck.”

Bucky cut himself off on a groan, his hips pressing flush to the backs of your thighs, his cock impaled to the hilt in your still fluttering cunt. He came with a loud moan, his cock twitching inside you as he shot rope after rope of cum into your pussy. Your inner walls milked every last drop of seed from his balls while he painted the inside of you white.

When Bucky was finally spent, he collapsed on top of you, your bodies easing into a more comfortable position. He lay on top of you in the cradle of your thighs, his palms smoothing over your hips and sides while your fingers stroked idly through his soft hair. You made small sounds of contentment, and an answering, pleased rumble, sounded in his chest.

Finally, just when it was beginning to get uncomfortable bearing so much of Bucky’s weight, he heaved himself up onto his knees and carefully slid his cock from your thoroughly used pussy. You watched him, his gaze focused on the slit between your thighs, and you saw the moment his blue eyes darkened when his cum started dripping out of you.

You reached between you thighs, which were splayed over his his spread knees, to clean up the cum before it made a mess of your bedsheets, but Bucky knocked your hand away. He fished through the mussed up bedding until he found his discarded sweatpants and pulled his phone from the pocket.

Your body was limp with sated pleasure, and he’d taken enough post-sex photos of you, that you let Bucky arrange you how he wanted. You even held your legs open for him so he could position his phone above your pussy and take a couple close-up photos of his cum spilling out of your pussy. Then he pulled his phone back, so your whole body was in the shot.

“Say, ‘I’m gonna be a mommy,’ baby,” Bucky ordered, a lazy grin on his face.

Between your thighs, your pussy pulsed at the words, which sounded so innocent and so filthy at the same time. Heat filled your cheeks and you turned your head to the side, trying to bury your face in a pillow while you whined, “Bucky.”

You knew it was silly to be shy about saying something so innocuous, especially after everything you and Bucky had just said and done, but the moment was over. You didn’t normally have such a breeding kink, but you’d been so horny and it had made you so hot to talk about getting bred while Bucky was inside you.

However, it felt like a whole other thing to play into it when the heat of the moment had passed. It felt like the kind of thing boyfriends and girlfriends did, and you knew better than to tread into that territory.

Still, your body warmed at the idea of looking into Bucky’s camera and saying those words…

“Baby,” Bucky crooned, leaning over you and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “C’mon, I know you wanna,” he murmured in your ear, his mouth brushing butterfly kisses along your jaw. “You don’t have to be shy with me, baby, I know you’re a dirty little breeding slut desperate to be daddy’s good little cumdump.”

“Jesus Christ, Bucky,” you groaned, but you were smiling when you turned your head and met his mouth for a kiss.

Bucky let you kiss him for a few moments before he pulled away and sat up, holding his camera in position while he raised his eyebrows at you in an expectant expression.

“I’m gonna be a mommy,” you mumbled, pouting up at the camera while Bucky snapped a few photos. It wasn’t long before you were smiling and preening for the camera, sticking your tits out and holding your legs even wider for Bucky.

“Good girl,” he murmured, catching your eye as he lowered his phone. He was giving you a pleased smirk, and you smiled up at him in return.

Bucky gently moved your legs from around his waist and flopped down on the bed beside you, swiping through the photos he’d taken of his cum leaking out of your pussy while you curled around his bicep. You had to admit, they looked hot—even the ones of you pouting and mumbling up at him.

Seeing yourself like that was turning you on and you were just about to shimmy down Bucky’s body and lick his cock clean until he was hard again when he spoke, derailing your dirty thoughts.

“I’ll pick up the morning after pill for you before I head home,” he rumbled absentmindedly, still focused more on his phone. You could see him favoriting some of the photos he’d taken and saving them to a separate folder. “And if you are knocked up, I’ll pay to have it taken care of—but don’t expect me to cuddle you and do boyfriend shit after.”

For a moment, you restrained the urge to smack Bucky in the face with a pillow. And then you thought, why not? You weren’t his girlfriend, you didn’t need to play nice.

So you grabbed the pillow behind your head and brought it down right on Bucky’s face. He let out a satisfying, startled ‘oomph’ sound, and you chuckled as you rolled out of bed.

“Gee, thanks,” you shot over your shoulder sarcastically as you padded toward the bathroom, intent on cleaning Bucky’s cum from between your thighs.

But then you had an evil thought and a wicked smirk tugged at the corners of your lips. You wiped that look off your face, though, as you turned and leaned against your doorway, striking a casual pose.

“Maybe if I’m knocked up, I’ll just let John fuck me bare and tell him it’s his,” you said, giving a carefree little shrug while trying not to make it obvious how close you were watching Bucky.

You were delighted when his head snapped toward you, his gaze finally pulling away from his phone as his brows lowered into a glare. His soft mouth turned down at the corners, a furious frown darkening his face.

“D’you think John would offer to marry me?” you asked, ignoring Bucky’s reaction and tapping your chin with one finger like you were thinking. “He strikes me as the type of man who’d want to make an ‘honest woman’ out of me.” You couldn’t hold in your eye roll, even as you were trying to torture Bucky with the possibility of you marrying John fucking Walker.

In an instant, Bucky was up and off the bed, pinning you to the doorframe of your room with every inch of his big, strong body pressed against yours. You only had time to gasp while Bucky quickly gathered your wrists in one hand and pinned them above your head. His hardening cock was trapped against your belly, the stickiness of both your releases rubbing into your skin.

“You’re not marrying John fucking Walker, baby,” Bucky growled while he loomed over you. He was so close, you had to tilt your head back to look up at him, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smirking. “And you’re certainly not raising my kid with Walker’s last name.”

At that, you had to laugh. But when you saw how serious Bucky still looked, you realized he didn’t realize you were just trying to get a rise out of him. Something about the thought of you marrying John Walker had clearly made all rational thought completely abandon Bucky in that moment.

Instead of thinking too hard about Bucky’s reaction, you explained yourself to him.

“Bucky, it was a joke,” you wheezed, giving him an incredulous look. “Of course I’m not gonna marry John.”

Bucky’s eyes flitted back and forth between yours, like he was checking to make sure you were being honest. He must’ve decided you were because he blew out a breath and closed his eyes, his forehead falling to yours.

“Jesus, baby, you drive me fucking wild sometimes,” he rumbled, but there was humor in his tone, albeit reluctant.

A breathless laugh slipped from your lips and you leaned back against the doorframe, hiking your leg up around Bucky’s waist. He caught it in his free hand, the movement pressing his thickening cock between your thighs, making both of you groan.

“I think you should show me exactly how wild I make you,” you purred, rocking your hips against his stiff length, coating him in the mixture of your desire and his cum still leaking out of you.

Bucky growled, his eyes flying open as he stared at you and worked his cock against your pussy.

“Careful what you ask for, baby,” he rumbled, his tone a delicious taunt that had your toes curling against the floorboards and your hips tilting so you could rub your clit against his hard shaft. “Or you’re gonna get another load pumped into your tight, unprotected little cunt.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, daddy,” you sassed, smirking up at Bucky and watching as his eyes darkened with desire.

In a flash, Bucky dropped your leg and let go of your wrists, spinning you around to face the doorframe and yanking your hips toward his lap with a rough, possessive grip on your body. Your upper body fell forward and your hands clung to the doorframe, nails digging into the wood when Bucky entered you in a swift, hard thrust.

Bucky fucked you in the doorway of your bedroom, making you promise yet again that you’d never let John Walker fuck you without a condom before emptying a second load inside you.

After, he followed you to the bathroom, hopping in the shower with you where he drained what little cum was left in his balls inside your pussy before helping you clean up—though you suspected he only offered to help so he could finger his cum deeper into your cunt under the pretense of cleaning you.

When you were both finally, finally sated, you collapsed into your bed together. Your mind was blissfully blank and your body deliciously sore as you cuddled together. Bucky dozed for a bit, his head on your chest while you carded your fingers through his hair and watched your show.

After a while, Bucky roused and got dressed, going out to get you the morning after pill from the nearest drug store, just like he’d said he would.

He also brought you back your favorite sports drink and snacks, explaining in a gruff voice that he’d read the potential side effects of the pill on the box and wanted you to be prepared. You refused to feel any type of way about that.

Then Bucky kissed you and left to head home.

All things considered, it was a good thing your new birth control had taken effect, or the morning after pill had worked, and you didn’t get pregnant despite the evening you’d had with Bucky. It was a relief when you were able to tell him that your risky night hadn’t led to any of the consequences the both of you had willfully ignored.

When you texted him to tell him you’d gotten your period, he responded quickly, messaging twice in quick succession. The first text made you roll your eyes, because you thought that was all he’d have to say.

Good.

But then you saw the second message, and you could imagine the arrogant smirk on Bucky Barnes’ ridiculously handsome face and the playful glint of mischief in his eye when he’d sent it.

It made you smile, and you had to bite your lip against a giggle, forcefully reminding yourself that he was just a situationship.

Let me know when you wanna play ‘just the tip’ to ‘breed me, daddy’ again, baby.

you ain't my boyfriend and i ain't your girlfriend series masterlist

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #toxic bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan characters #you ain't my boyfriend and i ain't your girlfriend series #witchywithwhiskeywork

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suksatoru · 24 days ago

Text

rabid royals

{prince!itoshi rin x princess f!reader}

summary: despite being arranged to marry his older brother itoshi sae, rin can't keep ignoring the way he feels about you forever. your reciprocation of his affections only makes the tension thicken and fold in a way that couldn't be ignored, and chaos was only inevitable by the time sae realized what was going on between you and his little brother.

warnings: arranged marriage, angst (but we THUG IT OUTT), fem!reader, brief sae x reader, rin is basically a lovesick puppy no one make fun of him, infidelity, cursing, & if you've read the prologue for this, it appears again as a flashback! header art is by @/AnoNiku___ on X <3

word count: 11.2k (asjadkj this took me wayy longer than expected !!)

Rin had been in his older brother's shadow for as long as he could remember. He was always one step behind, always lacking in some sense, always coming close, but never close enough. Ever since they were little kids, Rin had always borne the label of second best like a bad costume he couldn't take off.

Sae's always been destined for greatness, Rin was sure of it. Not only did his older brother possess an unbeatable mindset for himself and the Itoshi name, one he'd polished and carved expertly for the world to see, but Sae had the talent and skills to back up every ambition he wished to pursue. No matter how impossible a task or business deal seemed—if Sae was the one at the center of the ordeal, it was sure to go his way no matter how the situation fared before he entered the picture.

Despite it all, it was the small bits and pieces of him, the aspects of a person that made them human, which Sae lacked considerably.

A good husband, even just a decent one, would go and make sure you're okay. The words lie heavy on the curve of Rin's tongue, but he swallows them down the moment Sae's sharp gaze cuts to his.

"Rin, go check on her, will you?"

A wordless nod from his younger brother is all he gets in return, and Rin leaves Sae's room right after to go look for you.

Five doors down from his own room and three rooms down from his brother's was where you resided. It was decided that once the wedding was over, you would move into Sae's room with him. Rin knocks once on your door, waiting for your usual gentle voice to call him inside. He stands outside patiently, but after a near minute passes with no response, he knocks again, thinking you didn't hear him the first time.

"Y/n?"

Rin's hesitant call of your name is met with silence once more. His hand finds the doorknob, and he frowns once he realizes the door is unlocked. With a single, fluid motion, he twists it open and steps inside, only to be met with your empty bedroom.

His gaze sweeps over everything in front of him—the crumpled sheets and comforter of your bed, the little trinkets and gifts from your homeland littering your dressers, the assortment of necklaces laid out on the floor, and the empty spot beside the door where your outdoor boots usually resided.

Ah. So that's where you were.

A crease forms between Rin's brows when he realizes your hat is still hanging from your bedpost, and he grabs it without a second thought before he exits your room and closes the door behind him, heading straight towards the manor's gardens outside.

You didn't take very good care of yourself. You were still young—clumsy in getting adjusted to the new world you found yourself thrown into, and Rin can't even fault you for it. Who he's wished to reprimand many times is Sae, who doesn't seem to care about your well-being in the slightest. It was beyond frustrating to see Sae take no interest in the woman who would bear his children and take on the Itoshi name, but Rin's not sure what he expected from someone as emotionless as Sae. He'd imagined the one exception to Sae's coldness would be his own wife, but it seemed even you weren't spared.

Rin used to understand his brother better than anyone. They'd always come to each other when things got tough, and to Rin, it felt like he could face the whole world and win if Sae was by his side. But in the past few years, in which his nii-chan had gotten further and further into the political world outside the walls Rin was raised in, was when they finally began to drift apart. Rin simply didn't understand Sae's logic anymore. His principles and basis on seemingly everything had been flipped like a switch. Before, when they were children, Sae would spend every minute of his day with Rin, doing tasks for their parents together and spending time just being brothers. Now, the elder brushes off any attempt Rin makes to spend time with him, labeling it as a waste.

If Sae wasn't able to take good care of you, thanks to his persistent tendency to be isolated all the time, couldn't he have asked Rin to marry you instead? The marriage between you and Sae was purely political, so did it really matter which brother you married? At the end of the day, it was a union between kingdoms, not people. The bitter thought that he'd make a better husband himself is one Rin pushes down almost instantly in silent shame.

Stupidly enough, Rin had fallen for you. The sight of your smile and the echo of your laughter were the things to make his heart stutter—the things that allowed him to feel what love was like. But Rin believed his only option was to reject his heart, because to go after you was to wage war on his own brother.

Rin's fingers dig deep into the soft material of your hat as he approaches the glass doors leading outside. He takes a quick glance at his reflection in the manor's hallway mirror, blowing a stray strand of hair out of his way, before opening the door that led outside.

The chill that hit his face was unexpected as it was biting. Every gust of wind carried traces of snow, and they curled around Rin slowly, gliding through the air leisurely and wrapping him in a cold embrace.

You're a little ways down the main pathway parting the middle of the garden. Rin ducks back inside the manor and grabs a shawl hanging from one of the closet's hooks before leaving the manor and tightening his own coat around him.

"Y/n," he calls out gravely, and when you turn around, whatever thought was forming in Rin's mind is forgotten within an instant when your eyes meet his. He tightens his grip on the shawl and your hat, suddenly feeling himself get warm despite the cold that surrounded him.

Your cheeks are tinted a rosy red, and there are dozens of snowflakes hanging from the strands of your hair like it was the most natural place in the world for them to be. Plump lips are parted in surprise at his sudden appearance, and there are puffs of cold fog slipping past your lips as you wait for Rin to gather his thoughts.

"It's... It's cold. You should wear this." He murmurs, holding out the hat and shawl for you as he avoids your gaze. Rin can't stop himself from imagining the way your eyes must be widening in surprise, or the way your mouth must be forming that 'o' shape you make whenever you're particularly bewildered, and he can't stop himself from turning anyway to look at you, because when was the last time he's gotten to be this close to you without Sae or anyone else in his vicinity?

"Oh—sorry, sorry! I promise it wasn't snowing when I first came out to walk. I must have been too deep in thought to notice when it first began to fall," you assure with an embarrassed smile. Rin doesn't respond, his lips merely settle into a firm line before he raises the shawl in his hands and wraps it around your shoulders, twisting the fabric and pulling it close to ensure no cold seeps through.

"You need to be more careful, you'll get sick." He mumbles, lips twitching downwards into his usual frown before he digs his fists into the pockets of his coat, blowing another stray strand of hair from his face as you look down at the shawl he put around you with a gentle smile.

"I promise to remember next time, Rin. Thank you."

Rin huffs quietly in response with a short nod. Your eyes are drawn to one of the stray snowflakes that had fallen right over the gentle curve of his cheekbone, and you have to resist the urge to brush it off of him.

"Good," is all he says afterwards, his eyes flitting towards you hesitantly before they instantly dart away. In his mind, Rin blamed his horribly obvious and skittish movements on the cold before straightening his back and quietly bidding you goodnight.

Normally, Rin's steps were short and confident—never slow and always with a destination in mind. But as Rin turned away from you, his steps seemed to falter, like he wanted to say something more, but he ended up not saying anything else and walked back to the manor instead. Your eyes stay trained on his back as you nudge your nose against the comforting yarn of your scarf.

Your gaze doesn't leave Rin until he disappears inside. You lick your snow-coated lips to ease some of the tension you felt thrumming through you before turning back to the garden's pathway.

Rin looked breathtaking in the snow. His pale skin blended into the winter wonderland outside the Itoshi manor seamlessly, and his chiseled green gaze only seemed sharper in the moonlight. You noticed the way the snow seemed to swirl around him, too. You wouldn't be surprised if it was Aphrodite herself swirling a finger around Rin's figure and sending the snowflakes in a spiral that revolved around him and him only. Rin was just that beautiful.

Since the Itoshi manor was located up North, the land was in a perpetual state of winter, which also meant the garden they had outside had plants and flowers made for the everlasting cold; it was an environment they could thrive in. You admire the snow-coated petals of the flowers and how, despite the harsh conditions around them that would've already killed any regular flora, they stood tall, petals resilient and flourishing despite all odds.

The wedding was set to take place three weeks after you'd moved into the manor. It's been about a week since you've arrived, and the past few days have been filled with you visiting all sorts of people—the head chef, dressmakers, florists, and even the royal jeweler—to help prepare for the big day.

Sae wasn't there for any of it.

Frankly, you weren't too upset by it. He was busy beyond belief with securing the last details of his arrangement with your home nation. Marrying you was only a portion of the alliance, as there were still a dozen other things he had to review and arrange. Sae didn't have time to waste on something as trivial as choosing what color flower assortments each table should have as a centerpiece.

You tried to tell yourself it didn't matter—you shouldn't be this bothered. The servants were exceptionally kind to you, and you had even taken quite a liking to your personal handmaid (she was an older woman with a gentle soul, always sneaking you pastries and sweets from the kitchen to snack on just because she could), and Mr. and Mrs. Itoshi liked you well enough. Truthfully, you were being taken care of like a princess by everyone. Especially Rin, who sought you out every day with the simple intention of wanting to be near you. Sometimes, he wouldn't even make his appearance known to you; he lingered nearby, quietly and hopefully, just in case you wanted company.

But it was during the night, when you went to bed alone in a bedroom that felt too big for just one person, when you truly began to realize how lonely you felt.

Marrying someone made them your person. If Sae wasn't interested in forming any real relationship with you, then, well, you wouldn't have someone to call your own.

The thought of being alone frightens you more than anything else.

You couldn't really be alone with Rin around. Not when he doted on you every day, silently but steadily. But how long would that go on for? How long was it until he got married? The prospect of Rin marrying someone else sends a sharp pain straight through your chest, one that causes you to physically recoil and flinch before you shove your face back into your pillows with a groan.

No, seeing someone else marry Rin was something you never wanted to happen.

The night passes by in a blur, and so does the next morning. Eventually, you're heading towards the kitchen with the head chef—laughing softly at an old story she's telling you about the Itoshi brothers.

"They used to be very picky eaters—the oldest sir especially. When he was eleven, he sent his younger brother's birthday cake back to the kitchen because the frosting was vanilla, apparently not to his liking at all."

You have to stifle your laughter as you try and imagine an eleven-year-old Sae Itoshi getting upset over Rin's birthday cake not being the right flavor. Your lips twitch downwards as you think about how much their relationship has changed over the years—actually, you're not sure if you've even seen the two exchange any sort of pleasantries with each other. Not even once.

"Now, dear, I'll leave you to the cake taste testing—just call me in when you're all done. The spoons and napkins are laid out for you, so please enjoy what the bakers made. If you have any complaints, feel free to let me know at the end so I can pass on your message!"

You send her a tight-lipped smile, nodding your head and trying to hide your disappointment at being left alone once again.

"The sir is inside to help as well. Good luck!" She bows before her departure, and you still at her words.

Sir?

Sae had left early this morning to travel to a nearby city for a day trip of sorts, so that meant...

When you open the kitchen doors, Rin is sitting on a stool, staring intently at the assortment of cake slices placed on the table in front of him, and his head raises when he hears the door open a moment later.

It clicks closed behind you, and you stare at him wordlessly. For a moment, Rin thinks he may have crossed a line by asking the chef to assist you today with the cake testing after hearing you were doing it alone, but then your lips stretch into a smile so bright it makes something in his chest ache.

"Rin! You're here!"

You shuffle over to where he is, and Rin blinks rapidly as you drop yourself into the seat beside him. You're wearing a cozy sweater and plaid skirt to match, both a deep brown that complement you stunningly. Your hair is pulled back with a matching bow, and although this outfit is much simpler than what you usually wear, Rin is aching to let you know how pretty you look.

He has a feeling no one else has told you today.

"Hello," he murmurs, and the tips of his ears turn pink from the subtle scent of your shampoo, which is intoxicatingly sweet. Rin watches you get settled silently, grateful you seem happy to see him. Mindlessly, your finger reaches out to swipe at the frosting of one of the cakes, and you lick it with anticipation before your eyes shine with satisfaction.

"Yummy! So, you'll be helping me out today?" You grin, and Rin huffs, crossing his arms over his sweater. You note that his hair looks fluffier in the warm golden light of the kitchen, and his demeanor seems to soften at the sight of your smile.

"Yeah... Nii-chan is busy, like always, so I... I just don't want you to be alone."

You pause at his words, and his honesty cuts a little closer to your heart than you want to admit. You let your hands fall in your lap, taking a moment to let his confession sink in.

He doesn't want you to be alone.

"...thank you."

Rin's eyes widen a fraction when you scoot your stool closer to his, but his attention is quickly redirected when you pull a plate towards the two of you to begin—the air is tinged with the sweet smell of sugar and fruit, the atmosphere is domestic and calm, and Rin finds himself melting into the moment.

The next hour is filled with the two of you trying a variety of cakes. There were nearly thirty plates on the surface of the table, all spongy soft, decorated with heaps of creamy frosting, and layered expertly.

Rin wants nothing but to be good company for you, but he's not quite sure how to. He grew up with only one person close in age to him, and that was Sae. He didn't have any friends, only his nii-chan. But as they got older, the rift between them grew until it was an ocean—one Rin was sure to drown in if he ever tried to cross it. Losing his brother like that made Rin's heart retreat, and he's never made a connection with someone after Sae. He knows he doesn't talk much, and he's not as interesting as his brother, but...

"Rin, you're spacing out again!"

He's snapped out of his trance when you call his name, turning to see you laughing as you hold a spoonful of cake to his lips. Rin blinks owlishly before mumbling a sheepish apology under his breath and scooting closer to you.

"You want me to try this one?" He questions with a raised brow, and you nod enthusiastically.

"This one is really good! The cake is so tender, like a cloud on my tongue, and the chocolate is super rich. But, if you ask me, these strawberry wedges in the frosting are the best part." You grin, and Rin makes an attempt to smile in return—it's wobbly and unsure, but it feels right to smile at you.

He parts his lips for you, and you feed the bite to him. The realization that your mouth had been on the very same spoon makes him clamp down on the spoon in embarrassment, but then his taste buds get a feel of the cake, and his eyes widen a bit.

"Oh... this is really good."

"I know!"

After that, you feed him every bite right after your own. The sheer variety of cakes is what surprised you the most—there was dark chocolate, coconut cream, peppermint, honey lavender, and toasted coconut—all made with love and dedication. All made for you. Your chest feels warm and light at the thought.

Finally, there was one slice of cake left untouched. Tucking a leg under you, you reach across the table to grab it, pulling it towards you and Rin .

"This one is called Blackberry Elderflower," you comment, taking the label off the plate as Rin's brows furrow in thought.

"It looks okay, but I'm not sure if it can beat our first-place cake." Rin says firmly, and you can't help but laugh at the accusatory glare he offers the slice of cake in front of you.

"It was delicious! It had the perfect balance of sweetness, and those strawberries were heaven-sent, I'm sure of it." You grin, and Rin grunts in response, nodding his head.

Rin is the one to reach for the spoon this time. He carefully slices into the cake before bringing the bite to your mouth, hovering it over your lips before speaking.

"Remember, this is the last flavor. Savor the taste and consider it carefully—what we think about this one decides the final cake." Rin says, and when you nod with parted lips, he places the bite in your mouth and watches you carefully.

"Hmm. Alright, your turn."

You take the spoon gently from his grasp and dig it into the cake. Despite being perfectly capable of feeding himself each bite, Rin made no move to stop you.

His tongue darts out in anticipation, and he chews slowly once it's in his mouth. You try and fight back your smile as you watch his eyes suddenly widen, almost comically so. Rin's lips twist into a scowl as he's left completely appalled that another flavor actually managed to beat the chocolate cake you two were initially infatuated with.

"This is delicious." he mumbles in defeat.

"Uh huh! This is the one."

You're smiling again, picking up the cake's label and flipping it over to read the list of ingredients neatly printed on the back. Your legs swing back and forth on the stool you're sitting on, and Rin takes a moment to look at you. Really look at you. He only has to blink once before coming to his undoubtable conclusion.

Sae is really stupid sometimes.

If it was Rin marrying you instead—good gods, he'd abandon everything for you. He would take such good care of you; he knew he would. Truthfully, he was ready to bend his own body backwards and break every bone he possessed if it meant he'd get to see you smile. It took his breath away every time—because your smile gave him hope like no other.

Your cheeks are round and full with cake, and you let out a pleased hum as you swallow. Rin can't tear his gaze away from you—you're so close and just... there. It's impossible for him to do anything else but admire you. You're sitting close, close enough where if he shifts, his knee would bump against yours under the table.

You turn to look at Rin, and he's already looking at you.

His gaze is sharp, intense in a way that you haven't seen before. Not since...

He murmurs your name quietly, almost ashamed of himself, almost, and your heart leaps to your throat in an instant when his hands twitch in his lap, reaching for your face.

His fingers are soft and hesitant as they brush against your jaw silently in question. When you make no move of protest, stilling and watching him with round eyes instead, his index finger nudges your jaw towards him before he cups your cheek so tenderly that you nearly shiver.

"Rin..." you whisper, and he only tugs you closer. Rin's eyes are filled with a desperation you haven't seen before—a hunger that hasn't been satiated in too long, and he's trying to stop himself from moving any further. His other hand grips the kitchen counter as if he's physically trying to ground himself.

His hold on you softens, and he's close enough to where his nose is just about to bump against your own. Rin swallows the lump in his throat and stares at you silently with his mind screaming at him, because he has never wanted something in his life before so badly.

"What are you doing?"

Sae's voice cuts through the air like a knife, and Rin lets go of you in an instant, reeling back like he'd been physically struck at the sound of his older brother's voice.

Sae stands in the doorway, one hand still perched on the door he'd just opened and his gaze trapped on the two of you. He squints, eyes narrowing and lips settling into a thin line before Rin suddenly moves away from you. His chair drags loudly against the floor as he does, and he looks upset.

If Rin's mad, you're not sure if it's at himself for letting it get this far or if it's at his brother for interrupting. Again.

Rin's murmuring under his breath about how there's somewhere he needs to be, pushing past Sae before he has a chance to even say anything, and moving straight for the exit. He's barely a blur of green before he's gone within seconds, leaving you and Sae alone in deafening silence.

Sae is still in his uniform. It's pressed as pristinely as usual, with his shimmering silver sword hanging low on his hip. He regards you silently before speaking up.

"Did you two decide on a flavor?"

If Sae's angry, he does a remarkable job at hiding it. His voice is just as even and calm as it always is, but there is something terrifying simmering in his gaze—something as hot as molten lava, and it's threatening to boil over. Your lips part, but when nothing comes out, you have to take a moment to collect yourself.

"Yes, but I... I'm sorry, I didn't—we were just—"

"Don't worry. Rin will get over his little crush on you soon enough."

Now you were stupefied. You stare at him, rendered speechless, and he stares back in silence. Sae makes a mental note of how you kind of look like Rin when he's about to cry—his brother would make the same face when they were younger. Parted lips, wide, glossy eyes—and since the one thing Sae absolutely cannot stand is crying, he sighs through his nose and looks away.

"Come with me."

He beckons you over with two fingers, and you practically scramble out of your seat to follow him. He's halfway down the hall when you're out the kitchen door—and you have to walk as quickly as you can to catch up. Keeping your head low, you don't say anything.

Sae stops short in front of his bedroom door, fishing out a small golden key from the breast pocket of his uniform before inserting it into the doorknob and opening the door. He holds it open for you, and you walk in silently, stiff as a board.

There were no personal touches in Sae's room. It's large, larger than your own room—and it feels even emptier, too. It was also spotless, but you expected nothing less of him. The moment Sae grabs your hand is sudden and you have no time to react before he places the key in the palm of your hand.

"This is the key to the master bedroom you and I will share. You can come here anytime before the wedding to move in all your stuff. I'm rarely ever home, so there's no need to worry about me getting in your way or anything like that."

His tone is clipped and sharp, leaving no room for negotiation. You nod your head slowly, turning the key over in the palm of your hand as you observe it. Sae walks over to his dresser, opening one of the drawers and pulling out a small, velvet box—he opens it a moment later before handing it over.

"This is for you."

You open it, and inside is the most beautiful ring you have ever seen. It has a thin golden band with an elegantly cut emerald gem resting on the hilt, one that glimmers spectacularly in the dim light.

"It should be to your liking. I had my royal advisor pick out the best one he could find." Sae hums, watching you carefully as you slip it onto your finger. The band alone must have cost a fortune; forget the gem—you can feel the sheer quality of it by touch alone.

"Thank you."

Your voice is a little breathless, your eyes weary, and your head bowed. Sae looks back towards his desk, where a number of scattered documents resided on top.

"Don't thank me. I didn't do anything."

Then again, with the riches Sae had, this ring probably meant nothing to him.

"All right, you can leave now."

Sae's back is turned towards you a moment later, and he busies himself with the documents on his desk. The way he doesn't spare you even a glance more lets you know just how important Sae found you in the moment. You stand there for a moment, swallowing the lump in your throat and holding the small velvet box close to your chest.

He hears you shift behind him as you start heading towards the door. Your brows are bunched together, and a plethora of emotions explode in your chest. You're confused with his reaction to you and Rin's proximity, angry at his constant avoidance, and just... sad.

You take your leave quietly, but Sae's voice, softer than you've ever heard before, catches you on the way out.

"Good night."

You don't have the strength to respond without your voice breaking, so you close the door quietly instead.

Maybe you should feel more remorse for feeling nothing for Sae and everything for his brother. But you yearned for Rin. Quietly, passionately, and undoubtably.

Sae didn't understand the way either of you felt—he thought Rin's feelings for you were some form of a minor crush, but you knew it wasn't as simple as that. It never had been.

Sae may not have known it, but he didn't stand a chance with you since the night you first met Rin.

flashback ⋆˙⟡

You had arrived at their family's magnificent manor in a simple satin gown, a bowed head, and a broken heart.

Initially, you had no idea what the Itoshis looked like, didn't even know their names, and spent most of the evening indulging in mindless chatter and eating small pastries instead of getting to know your betrothed. It seems like he wasn't interested in marrying you either, since he never bothered to come down and introduce himself.

No one stayed with you, mingling throughout the party and getting drunk on different sparkling drinks instead, and you found yourself gliding down the long halls of the Itoshi manor like a ghost. You walked with no destination in mind until you heard the gentle melody of someone playing the piano. Magically, at that.

The angelic sound seemed like a safe haven for you in the perpetually dark night, and you followed the music with tentative steps.

Soon, you found yourself in front of a tall, oak door and bowed your head through the frame to peer inside. A strand of hair fell in front of your eyes, and you pushed it away before your gaze fell onto the boy playing the piano inside. You couldn't see his face, only his back faced you. Pale, slender fingers play the instrument in front of him like it was his destiny, and after all the rage and heartbreak you felt throughout the day leading up to that night—a rare serenity of calm filled the empty hollowness in your chest, warming you entirely.

The boy looks to be about your age, and he remained entirely entranced by the piano in front of him as the pads of his fingertips danced—you watched his skilled fingers perform stunningly for no one at all. Well, besides you—but Rin didn't know you had been watching him. Not until he heard you sit on the piano stool beside him, smiling shyly with eyes twinkling in the dim moonlight that spilled through the glass panes.

His heart skipped a traitorous beat when you asked him to teach you how to play. His lips parted, as if you'd rendered him speechless. And you had.

"I... who are you?"

"No one important. Tell me, what's your name?" You questioned softly, curious eyes peering up at Rin with a shine he'd never once seen before. He tells you his name and asks you for yours in return before repeating it to himself quietly.

Rin didn't tell you how he forbade everyone, even his own family, from entering his music room. He merely slid a few inches over to give you more room and explained the history of how the piano came to be before placing his palm and fingers over yours.

Rin taught you a simple tune he came up with on the spot that night. It only spanned a few keys and held a slow tempo so you could follow along easily, but it was inspired entirely by the feeling he felt in his chest the moment he saw you smile at him.

He held his breath as he watched you play on your own only an hour later, a rare smile gracing his features. There was something about the way you treated his piano, careful fingers pressing down on the keys like they were glass—like they were alive and you were afraid to hurt them—before the tension eased and ebbed out of your form with time.

You'd arrived at the ball at six and spent a little under an hour at the actual event. You had spent the rest of the night with Rin's hands splayed over yours.

Sae was late to his own party for no reason in particular, arriving in a pristine suit and his bright pink hair gelled and styled for the occasion. To say he was intrigued to learn you'd been missing for the majority of the party from your mother and father's panicked expression was an understatement.

The first ten minutes with you gone? Sure, it made sense. You could have been in the bathroom or in line to get some sort of refreshment. After thirty minutes, he decided maybe you're out getting fresh air on the manor's balcony, or perhaps you're strolling through the gardens and giving the forgotten flowers outside some much needed attention. But once your time being missing hit the hour mark, his mother approached him and told Sae to go get his brother, who also hadn't come down in a while.

Sae knocked on Rin's music room door twice, tapping his foot impatiently outside as he thought about your whereabouts. Perhaps you did go to the manor's balcony for some fresh air, but maybe you fell off the twenty-foot railing and were lying dead somewhere. For some reason, the thought doesn't seem to stir much of anything in his chest.

He realized he'd been waiting outside the door for far too long and twisted the doorknob with an impatience he didn't usually allow himself to feel.

It took Sae a moment to understand the sight in front of him. Rin, smiling softly with his hand over yours, and you—hair pinned back to reveal lovely eyes and painted lips stretched into a smile so magnificent that Sae actually had to blink in order to confirm the graceful sight was indeed real.

And then it just clicked. Neither of you saw him, neither of you recognized the true identity of each other, so he took a step inside. The tension in the air shifted, and finally, you noticed him.

"Rin, just what do you think you're doing with my wife?"

When it came to avoiding people he didn't want to talk to, Rin had the qualifications of a professional. His lean frame allowed him to push through crowds of people easily without making a disturbance, and he was sneaky—taking advantage of all the spots he used as a kid when playing hide-and-seek with his brother to seemingly vanish into thin air whenever you got too close.

It wasn't that Rin wanted to avoid you; no, that wasn't it at all. He was just sure that he wouldn't be able to hold himself back if he saw you again. It didn't make sense how someone like you could end up with someone like Sae—it was absurd and horribly unfitting.

He's been doing his best to fill his time with things that don't remind him of you, but it's difficult. Dueling with the guards isn't helpful because he finds himself getting distracted and tripping over his own feet when he gets a glimpse of you passing by in one of the manor's windows above, sitting in on Sae's meetings is far too boring for him, and all the servants in the manor were busy preparing for the wedding—everywhere he turned, he was surrounded by the mere mention of your name, and it was maddening.

Accepting the fact that he can't not think about you, Rin makes the decision to expand the song he taught you the first night you two met.

He'd spent the majority of his day in his music room, playing and scribbling down every note on his sheet as the song progressed and grew into something beautiful—he was spinning the little melody he taught you that day into a full number that was playable, and he imagined himself performing it for you one day.

Maybe you'd lean your head on his shoulder while he played, or maybe you'd ask him to teach you the song—both possibilities are enticing, and Rin can't help but wish they were true.

There's something wrong with him. He shouldn't be thinking of playing the piano for you—he shouldn't be thinking of you at all. But there's no point in even attempting to stop himself, you'll intrude on his thoughts whether he likes it or not.

"You're so stupid," Rin mumbles to himself, pulling the piano cover down and resting his cheek against the cool surface with a sigh. The song was done now, he'd played it over more times than he could count and until his fingers ached—but it was ready.

He uses his pen to write your name in the title spot at the top of the sheet, and after looking around to absolutely ensure his brother wasn't hiding somewhere in the shadows, Rin draws a small heart right beside your name.

It's as if every time Rin does anything regarding you, Sae emerges from the depths of hell itself to find him, and the sharp bangs that sound against Rin's door a second later seem to confirm his suspicions.

"Rin! Shit, get out of there now, we have a big fucking problem—"

Rin stuffs the sheet in his music folder in an instant, kicking back his feet and getting off the piano stool within another second before swinging open the music room's door.

Sae is standing on the other side, and Rin can immediately tell something is wrong. The bags under his brother's eyes are heavier and more prominent than usual, and his hair is a bit of a mess, seemingly because of how much he'd been running his hands through the pink strands.

Rin has never seen his brother look like this. Sae was the calm one, the one more composed than everyone else in the room, and the one who had absolute control. But now, seeing his brother's clenched jaw, the frenzied look in his eyes, and the incoherent words he mutters under his breath as he drags Rin by the elbow and back into the music room has him dumbstruck.

"Nii-chan, stop. What the hell happened?" Rin hisses, tugging his arm out of Sae's grasp as the latter slams the door shut behind him. Sae knows how much Rin despises having other people in his music room, so the fact that he disregards that fact entirely and barges in anyway lets Rin know his brother isn't in the right state of mind.

"The wedding's off—I made a big fucking mistake. Her parents are going to demand she go back home, there's no doubt. And when that happens, we're going to lose our biggest trading partner yet. I don't know what—"

"Off? What the hell are you talking about? What did you do?" Rin snaps, watching Sae's fists coil harder—and before his brother can punch something out of rage—Rin stands in front of him and grabs hold of his shoulders.

"You need to tell me what you did. How am I supposed to help if you won't tell me what's going on?" Rin questions, and Sae pushes his brother off roughly, looking away in anger. His brows are pinched together, and it takes him a moment to get the words out, but they're as clear as day once they leave his lips.

"I got another woman pregnant."

Rin stills, and for the first time in his entire life, he sees the heat of regret in his older brother's gaze.

"I don't even know who it was. Whoever it is—she left the baby on the goddamn doorstep of the manor and fled. There's only some shitty note left behind telling me to deal with it. Shit, I'll find that woman and kill her if I have to. Who the hell does that?" Sae murmurs, more to himself than to Rin, as he sits down on his piano stool with an exhausted sigh.

"Who's going to raise it? The servants can't, it needs an actual mother of royal lineage—all the women I had relations with were lower class, never noblewomen—it will be virtually impossible to find a new wife that would accept a boy who isn't a hundred percent royalty, not when we're about to lose our biggest trading partner yet. I have my month-long trip to Spain two days after the wedding is supposed to happen—I can't miss that either, it's too important." Sae sighs, and Rin stares at his brother, speechless.

"You don't know who the mother of this child is?" is all Rin can manage to say as Sae shakes his head no.

Wordlessly, Rin sits beside Sae on the piano stool. He stares hard at the ground, and Sae sits beside him with his head in his hands. He was obviously stressed out, but Rin has nothing to say. This was his older brother's fault—and he had messed up badly.

Unbeknownst to them, on the other half of the manor, you're peering into the small bundle lying in one of the servant's arms—you can already tell what's going on. The baby has a full head of unmistakable pink hair, and everyone around you is panicking.

"Can I hold it?"

She looks up at you suddenly with wide eyes, smiling hesitantly while using her free hand to pat your shoulder comfortingly.

"Of course, dear. Are you feeling alright with all this?" The woman questions softly, and while her touch is gentle, her eyes are concerned. You shrug wordlessly, smiling at the baby in her arms.

"I'm not sure what to feel right now. But this baby didn't do anything wrong, so I'd like to hold it. Though I can't tell if it's a boy or a girl. Do you know which it is?"

"It's a boy." She says softly, lowering the baby into your arms as you hum.

He looks just like Sae. With delicate pale skin, tiny green eyes, and a little frown tugging down his lips—you know in your heart that this was his son.

You don't know what's going to happen now—you were never given a choice with this wedding, but you know there was no world where your parents would have you marry Sae knowing he had been seeing other women casually enough to produce a baby.

For now, you simply snuggle the little bundle closer to your chest with a quiet sigh, pressing your body further into the cushions of the couch as the sound of chaos around you turns to static.

It's been nearly a week since the surprising arrival of the Itoshi heir, and the day of the wedding was only getting closer. Unfortunately, it seemed like the entire manor was buzzing with panic and stress.

Mr. and Mrs. Itoshi have already formally apologized to you, but you had yet to see Sae. There was no time to inform your family back at home about the news, because by the time they received the letter that the wedding needed to be called off, they would already be here at the manor for the wedding. There was absolutely nothing that could be done to stop them in time.

Right now, you're rocking the baby boy back and forth in your arms, humming quietly and yawning to yourself, wondering what Rin must be up to.

There was a chance he'd attend the emergency council meeting scheduled for tonight after dinner to figure out what to do with the baby and you—you'll have to finally face Sae, but you're almost... relieved you don't have to marry him. Yes, of course the entire situation was disastrous—but while everyone around you seemed to be spiraling because of the news, you found yourself able to catch your breath for once.

"How can such a cute baby cause so much chaos..." you mumble to yourself as his nimble little fingers play with one of your bracelets. You wondered when he'd get a proper name and who would take care of him when you ended up leaving—the reminder that you had to go also reminded you that you'd have to leave Rin behind, too.

Rin. You'd remember him forever.

You arrive to the meeting early, since you didn't have much else to do after lulling the baby to sleep. The meeting room in the Itoshi manor is lavish and large, designed with high ceilings and glass panes that shimmered in the sunlight. There are about fifteen chairs lining both sides of the long table, each cushioned and empty. Well, besides Sae's seat, where at least a dozen envelopes and a hundred documents were laid out in front of him. He hasn't noticed you yet, too busy with the mountain of work in front of him, but when you place the ring box he'd given you in front of him, he looks up.

"It's okay," you start before he can say anything, and you watch his body stiffen at your words before he sighs. He rubs a tired hand across his forehead before speaking.

"I stopped when I knew you and I were arranged to get married. I just didn't think..." he trails off, and you can hear the bitter resentment in his voice.

"It's okay." You say more firmly this time, before awkwardly patting his shoulder in an attempt to soothe him. Sae looks up and watches you with narrowed eyes, silently questioning if you were some sort of a saint. He half expected you to slap him, yell at him, something, but you just stood there in front of him, quiet and in deep thought.

"I don't know what will happen," you start, and he raises his eyes to meet your gaze as you continue.

"—but I know you're under a lot of stress. You work very hard; I've only ever seen you working since I've arrived, so I hope your council finds a solution that works for us both." You conclude, and as the others begin to enter the meeting room, you don't wait to hear Sae's response before you move to take your seat.

The royal council members are the first to arrive in a hurry. They're discussing a number of things as they find their seats and immediately recapture Sae's attention, swarming him. A few relatives enter the room with Mr. and Mrs. Itoshi before Rin finally makes an appearance.

He seems a bit overwhelmed by all the noise and people clamoring into one room, and your heart rate quickens at the sight of him. Rin looks even more handsome than usual, sporting a dark sweater that complemented his hair and a simple pair of pants to match. You can see his gaze sweeping over the room before it lands on you, and his back straightens once he sees you.

Maybe Rin sees the silent plea in your eyes, the need to not be alone, because his feet shift towards your direction before he moves and takes the empty seat right next to you. He doesn't say hello, and neither do you—but having Rin next to you is more comfort than you could have hoped for in a time like this.

You try your best not to look at him, but your body betrays you, and your gaze finds him anyway. Rin looks up the same moment you do—bringing about a single second of the most intense eye contact of your life before you both look away in embarrassment a second later. Sae watches the entire scene unfold in front of him with his brows pinched together in thought.

You were three years younger than Sae and two years younger than Rin. You were all in the same general age range—but Sae knew he had much more real-world experience than you and Rin did combined. You, being a girl, and Rin being the youngest, just meant you were naturally both sheltered and innocent. Unfortunately, Sae was forced to grow up quicker, and he knew how horrible the world could be.

Sae cared more for Rin than he let on. Of course he knew he could have had his brother marry you instead—truthfully, it would have made his life easier. But Sae had no idea what kind of person you were. If you were anything like the royal women he knew, you'd be a snob: you'd be selfish, unkind, and have your own personal agenda—all the things he didn't want Rin to encounter. Sae had no interest in subjecting his brother to such filth. He knew he was heartless, but Rin's heart bruised far too easily.

You were different than what Sae expected. He wanted to find something about you to criticize or to frown upon. Something he could flesh out and show Rin saying, 'Look, she's not good for you.'

But when Sae watches his little brother's sly attempt to hold your hand under the table without anyone noticing, he can only sigh quietly in resignation.

"Alright, let's get this meeting started. There are a few major things we can clear now, so let's do that."

Quickly, the murmurs of everyone's prior conversations faded as Sae cleared his throat and stood up.

"The wedding doesn't need to be called off," he starts, walking around the table as his royal advisor quickly raises his hand with an exasperated sigh.

"Sir, with all due respect, there's absolutely no possibility her parents will allow you to—"

"That's not what I'm saying. The wedding will continue, but it won't be mine."

Sae rounds the table, approaching you and Rin with relaxed steps. Rin feels you go rigid in his hold, and he does the same once Sae comes and stands behind you two. Before either of you can react, Sae's hand is under the table and snapping around Rin's wrist—pulling it out from under the table as he holds up your intertwined hands for everyone to see.

The look of absolute mortification on Rin's face almost makes him smile.

"It's a good option. We'll have these two think about it and let us know what they decide later, but it'll most likely work out. I'll allow it, since these two can't seem to keep their hands to themselves or their eyes off of each other. It's disgusting how obsessed they are with one another."

You and Rin look towards Sae, identical faces of absolute bafflement: you both stare at the elder with wide eyes, flushing with embarrassment at his bold move. Sae doesn't spare either of you another glance as he turns towards the other council members, who mumble their agreement at the prospect.

Sae lets your intertwined hands go before heading back to his seat. You don't dare to look at Rin now—you always knew there was a possibility of you marrying him, but you never thought it would actually come to pass. Now you needed to talk to Rin more than ever before anything was confirmed. He sits there, stiff as a board and silent just like you, but he doesn't let go of your hand. If anything, his grip tightens just the slightest bit.

A serious look crosses over Sae's face as he sits back down, and everyone seems to be holding their breath as they wait for Sae to address the real issue at hand.

"The boy... he's going to be a problem. No one will marry me knowing I have a half-blood son. I'm sure you all know how picky people are with keeping their royal bloodline pure and all that. But that means he won't have a mother, and I won't be here often enough to raise him."

The murmuring starts again at once, concerned whispers flooding the room instantly as everyone tries to come up with some sort of a solution. Suddenly, a voice from the back rises.

"Could we put it up for adoption?"

There's an uproar of protest as everyone turns to the voice in bewilderment. The council member sinks into their seat with embarrassment, apologizing profusely for even suggesting the idea—but Sae doesn't seem bothered by it at all. His chin is perched on his fist, and he merely sighs before leaning back in his chair.

"It's a possibility if we can't come up with a solution. Stop being so rowdy and give me a better idea instead of complaining."

Some people were suggesting having the boy be raised by the servants in the manor, but Sae was insistent on making sure he had a proper mother and father. Mr. and Mrs. Itoshi were too old to take care of a baby—so that was out of the options, too.

You and Rin could take care of it. If anyone's thinking it, no one has the courage to voice it. Sae considers the idea silently as everyone discusses solutions noisily around him. He knows he can't speak the possibility into existence yet—he didn't even know how Rin would react to possibly marrying you; it seemed like too much to dump a baby into the picture too. Sae was running out of options, that was certain, but he wasn't going to force anything onto Rin until you two had talked.

Sae glances up to look at you and Rin. Both of you sit side by side, with neither of you speaking. Rin's brows are furrowed, and he seems to be in deep thought. You look nervous, peering up every few minutes with a small frown at every obnoxious suggestion said in regard to what to do with the baby. At some point, Rin's hold on your hand had become considerably tense, and you brushed your thumb over the back of his hand in an attempt to comfort him.

There was also the possibility that Rin didn't want to marry you. The entire situation was becoming far too messy, and you could feel yourself sinking further and further into your seat. After another hour of arguing that led to nowhere, Sae ended the meeting curtly and stated there would be another meeting some other time. Now that everyone had been dismissed, they were beginning to file out of the meeting room to leave. You look over at Rin hesitantly, only to find he was staring at Sae. You couldn't make out his expression nor what it meant.

"Do you want to talk to him, Rin?" you question softly, and Rin swallows the lump in his throat before nodding slowly. You gently pull your hand out of his grasp; his touch lingers on you for a second longer before you pull away completely, and you blend into the crowd a moment later and disappear out the exit with everyone else, leaving Rin and Sae alone.

You had absolutely no idea what would happen now.

Marrying Rin? It almost sounded too good to be true. But what would happen to Sae's son? There were far too many factors to consider.

With not much else to do, you found yourself walking down the manor's hallways in an attempt to try and clear your head. There was an inordinate amount of things going on, and you needed to take a step back and think about what you wanted to do.

You liked Rin. You liked him a lot. But you had no idea how he felt—you two had never once discussed what was between you, and you can imagine he must feel just as conflicted as you did. You knew there was something between you two, but would Rin ever want to go further?

It wasn't an appropriate time to go look for Rin now. The sun had set hours ago, and it felt like the manor was asleep with the lack of people you saw in the halls. With no other idea on what to do, you head back to your room.

You would just have to find Rin tomorrow. Getting ready for bed, your movements feel more sluggish and slow than usual. There's a gnawing feeling in your chest that won't go away—telling you that you're not going to be able to sleep peacefully until you talk to Rin. You're not sure how you'll be able to rest with so many issues untied, but there didn't seem to be anything you could do about it now.

Rin was most likely asleep now since it was so late. You could knock on his door and check since he was only a few rooms down, but you quickly shake away the thought with a sigh. Slowly, you untie your hair from your usual updo, take off your makeup, and slip into a simple nightgown. The soft fabric hugs you in a warm embrace, and after brushing out your hair, you walk towards your bedside table to blow out your candle when you hear a sound.

It's muffled and soft, so quiet you almost miss it at first. You don't move, listening closely to see if you can hear it again, and just when you think it's gone away, it starts up once again.

Slowly, you lower yourself onto your knees and allow your head to dip low enough where you can press your ear against the floor. You hear it much clearer now; the gentle vibrations coming from Rin's piano are as distinct as they are marvelous—blending together as naturally as watercolors.

The revelation that Rin was awake in the music room right beneath you is startling.

You've never heard him play at this time of night before. The melody he strings together has you sinking onto the ground completely, and the sound of his music is just as soothing and magical as you'd remembered. You picture Rin's slender fingers moving about the piano as artfully as they did the night you first met him, and you let yourself stay on the floor for a few minutes longer to listen.

By the time he starts up his next song, you've already grabbed your candlestick and started your path downstairs towards his music room.

There was no way you'd be able to sleep knowing Rin was awake—there was no use in even trying, because you were sure you'd end up staying awake to listen to him play anyway. Your footsteps are hurried and purposeful, and while you're not entirely sure what you'll say to Rin once you find him, you know you can't wait any longer to see him.

You open the door as quietly as you can, slipping inside and gently locking it behind you. You watch Rin's fingers come to a slow stop, and you move forward until you're standing right beside his piano stool. You're holding your breath, clasping your hands together nervously as he turns to look at you.

"Hi, Rin." You offer with a hesitant smile.

"...Hello."

He moves over wordlessly to make space for you to sit beside him, and you make sure to keep a little more distance than usual between you two once you're seated, only because you're not sure how Rin felt. His response is immediate—brows pulling together as his lips tug into a small frown, but he doesn't say anything, just quietly watching as you carefully place your candle on the edge of his piano's top.

The warm glow of the candle highlights every feature of yours in a fiery gold, and Rin's eyes widen a bit when he sees your hair is down. You're in a simple nightgown and not wearing any makeup either, and he's positive his heart is stuck in his throat. The soft curve of your cheek looks far too kissable in the candlelight, and he inhales sharply when you finally turn to look at him.

"I heard you playing from my room and couldn't ignore it." You smile, and Rin makes a small sound of embarrassment in the back of his throat once he realizes he must have kept you awake. Before he has the chance to apologize, you speak up.

"I wanted to talk to you either way; I don't think I'd be able to sleep until I did. But if it's too late for you, or if I'm interrupting—"

"No—no, I just... came here to clear my head. Couldn't sleep either." He mumbles quickly, discreetly moving the music sheet with your name written at the top back into his folder and out of your sight as you smile, relieved. Rin notices it doesn't reach your eyes, and he tries his best to mask his concern. His brother always told Rin he had a horrible poker face, so Rin does his best to school his expression into something neutral.

"Do you want to marry me?"

Okay, maybe Rin would have been able to appear as calm and collected as Sae usually does if you hadn't asked him that question outright. He becomes flustered in an instant, stammering as the tips of his ears turn a bright shade of red. He tries to string together enough words to form a coherent sentence, but after an entire ten seconds of stuttering, he simply clamps his mouth shut to avoid any further embarrassment before he takes a steadying breath.

"Yes."

You lean back a bit at his words, almost as if you weren't expecting them.

Rin's never been good with communicating how he felt. He often found himself retreating when his emotions got too overwhelming or confusing—facing them head-on was something he's always struggled with, but he wants nothing more than to lay his heart bare for you to understand. He watched his brother slip away because they couldn't talk, couldn't voice their thoughts when they were upset, and Rin didn't want to lose you because of his inability to trust—so he tries his best.

"I feel happy when I'm around you, it's as simple as that. I would never say yes unless I knew what I wanted—I was... I was mad at myself when I found out you were marrying nii-chan. It wasn't something I wanted. I'm not well versed with all the business stuff he does, and I know he's in a tight spot, but he would never ask me to marry someone I didn't want to. We can figure this out together, you and I—there's really no one else I'd rather be with than you."

Are you sure, Rin?

Rin had said yes to his brother then, and he's saying yes to you now. He's never been more sure of anything in his life. His future, his hopes, and his dreams all depended on what you said now.

You're already looking at Rin when he looks up to meet your gaze. Your eyes are glossy, and your smile is just as sweet as he remembered it to be. He can't stop his lips from twitching at the sight—can't stop looking at your lips at all. And when you lean forward, you can just barely hear the hitch in his breath.

"Can I kiss you?"

You whisper the question softly, but Rin doesn't have the strength to respond. Instead, he leans forward to meet your lips. They brush over your own once, tentatively, before his hand moves to cradle your face. Carding his free hand through your hair, his mouth molds against yours.

The kiss was gentle and timid, undoubtedly imbued with every bit of love you and Rin felt for each other, and there wasn't a single other place either of you would rather be than in each other's hold.

seven years later ⋆˙⟡

Akio stands outside his parents's bedroom door, shifting from one foot to the other before turning to look at his two younger siblings behind him. Haru and Akie are yawning, still clutching onto their blankets and stuffed animals tiredly, but they smile lazily as they peer up at their older brother.

"I can't believe you two followed me." Akio huffs, irritated, but Akie merely nuzzles into her older brother's arm with a yawn.

"You were loud. And we wanted to come!"

"Let me go in first. You guys can come in after, kay?"

The pair nods, and Akio slips into the bedroom as quietly as he can, letting the door click close behind him. It's already six am—there was a chance you and Rin were still tired, but the little pink-haired boy was ready to start his day. Slowly, he approaches the bed, poking your cheek once to confirm you're asleep before huffing and lifting one leg up and over the bed.

He crawls onto the heap of blankets, squeezing himself into the small spot between you and Rin on the bed easily as the latter stirs in his sleep. You must sense the little boy, because your eyes flutter open a moment later.

"Oh, good morning." You smile with a sleepy giggle, pressing a gentle kiss onto Akio's cheek as he huffs, snuggling into your side.

"Ma, it's six already. I can't believe you guys are still sleeping." The little boy murmurs, turning to look at Rin with a scowl—adorably appalled at the peaceful expression gracing his features.

"You're an early bird—but me and your papa like to sleep in. He's very tired, you know?"

Akio mumbles something into your chest, winding his arms around you in a bear hug as he pokes Rin's stomach with his foot.

"Dad's going to teach me how to make eggs for you. And the twins. But I really just want to make them for you."

You laugh quietly, but the sound is still enough to wake up Rin. Akio quickly rolls off of you, poking Rin's cheek with his finger as he slowly begins to stir again.

"Wake up, lazy."

"Go away."

Akio winds his arms around Rin either way right after, and you watch Rin tiredly pat the boy hanging off his back. The door creaks open a little further, and you see your twins heads poke through right after. Rin finally manages a small smile, sitting up and pressing a kiss to your forehead before beckoning the rest of the children inside.

They come in squealing, immediately hopping onto the bed and climbing onto you and Rin. Your husband yawns, circling his arms around any kid he could get his hands on while closing his eyes.

You pepper everyone's faces in good morning kisses, and after Akio's made sure he's disrupted you and Rin's sleep enough, he drags himself and the twins outside to brush their teeth and get ready for the day. Once they're out, you bring the blanket around you closer and brush your nose against Rin's.

"Hi."

"Hi, pretty."

Rin's touch is gentle as he cradles your cheek, and you both spend a moment simply staring at each other, admiring the face you've come to love more than life itself. He pulls you into his chest, breathing you in as you slump tiredly into his embrace.

He taps his pointer finger against your waist slowly, and every tap was to the rhythm of the song he'd made for you so many years ago—just like he did every morning.

a/n: oh my god...it's done...hollllyyyyYYY MOLY this took me a while but yay i'm so happy with it!! :D sae's kind of a deadbeat i'm sowwyyy 😞 rin and reader are happily married and sae's prospering overseas and doing business :p maybe one day he'll settle down, but who knows!! thank you for reading and i hope you enjoyed it :))

tags: @rroxii @tsukimoon-chan @rainychi2 @cheriiepies @jukiamae @hotdogkongmalaki @theogfruitl00psmunch3r @danhoneyyysblog @mfreedomstuff @introspectiveintroverthere @ocean-mochi @kajironunaji @minasgirl @jiavirie @literallyn0ne @ankol-heap @ysvanielle

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