#i downed it while dancing to TI's What You Know

[velvrei]

can you please do like enemies to lovers that ends in smut with logan???? the face riding one you posted was SO GOOD. 

a/n at the end

tell me more

pairing: logan howlett x reader

summary: you and logan HATE each other. you are stuck in the void for a few days, and when you get out, it’s too late to go anywhere so you stay at wade’s place with logan. in the spare bedroom. with one bed.

word count: 8k

warnings: smut, rough sex, enemies to lovers, unprotected sex, degradation, switch!logan, mentions of blood and death, dance fighting, wade & his sexual comments

a/n: beware this is not proofread i’m too lazy

nsfw below the cut!

you disliked logan from the moment you met him. the two of you met through wade, your best friend and partner.

meanwhile, wade had a new best friend and partner in logan howlett. normally, jealousy would arise in such a circumstance, but it only created mini-competitions between the two of you.

the three of you were in the void. you were sitting in a chair, painting your toe-nails as you watched logan and wade fight to get their anger out.

you giggled as logan stabbed wade repeatedly with his claws, just sitting back and watching the show.

as you added your clear coat, it went almost completely silent and you looked up to see logan laying on wade, both of them with multiple wounds and covered in blood.

“you guys done yet?”

both boys groaned, making you grin as you fanned your newly painted toes and returned the nail polish to your bag.

a few minutes later, both guys were awake and walking towards you. you three needed a somewhere to stay, and you knew exactly where.

"i know where we can stay. this isn't my first time in the void, and there's a house where some hero's hide from cassandra. we can go there." wade listens to your words while logan just scoffs and rolls his eyes.

"and why are we listening to you?" logan's sassy remark made you roll your eyes.

"because i've been in the void before you dumb fuck. don't question me."

"what did you just call me?" logan growled, stepping toward you as you remained unbothered in your lawn chair.

"you heard me." your tone was sharp and sassy.

wade rolled his eyes before stepping in front of logan, stopping from getting any closer to you.

"guys. knock it off. we're gonna follow her, because she's been here before. got it, dog boy?" wade's nickname made you snicker, another nickname added to your dictionary.

“yeah dog boy.” you add on, earning a glare from wade.

“shut the fuck up, woman.” logan spat, his tone was bitter, and his eyes searched you up and down.

“you wish i would.” you spat right back, scoffing as you looking at your nails on your hand, acting completely unbothered by logan’s insults.

wade grabbed you out of the chair, and grabbed logan’s arm, practically dragging you both before shoving you forward.

before the three of you could even take another step, you saw a hidden figure standing on higher ground. he wore a hood over his head, and as he spoke, and revealed himself, it was johnny storm.

“there’s no time. they’re already almost here.” he points to the distance, physically pointing out the fact that cassandra’s army were already on their way to get you.

you swore under your breath as johnny jumped down, joining the three of you, it was now four against like, 100, and you knew you had no other way out of this but to face cassandra head on.

they all approached you fast, and quickly surrounded you. a man, with long hair and brown teeth, began to speak.

“ooo, she’s gonna love what i have for her.”

wade scoffed. “who is she, exactly?”

you smacked his shoulder earning a pathetic wince, causing logan to roll his eyes by the two of you.

the man ignored wade’s question, and before they even had a chance to fight, each of you were sucked by a magnet, and knocked unconscious.

when you woke up, you tried to move your body but it was restrained, looking up and seeing that you were tightly tied against logan. great.

you were in a moving ball, practically like a wired hamster house. your body was tightly maneuvered against his, breasts pressing against his chest, sighing in defeat as logan watched you struggle. “there’s no getting out of this.” his dark, husky voice made you look up, hating the fact that you couldn’t look anywhere but his eyes.

“i know where we’re going. i’ve been here before.”

johnny raised an eyebrow at that as he was tied up next to you, against wade. “you have? no one has ever escaped cassandra alive?”

you sighed. “well i have.”

logan rolled his eyes, hating that the attention was on you. “well aren’t you just the greatest. you escaped a bald bitch, boo fucking who.”

logan’s comment caused your knee to come up in between his legs and hit him in the dick, watching his face contort into pain, making you giggle.

after what felt like the longest ride ever, you arrived to cassandra’s lair, watching as she stepped out and observed the small group.

she untied everyone eventually, examining each person. when she walked up to you, she put her hands behind her back, giving you a smile.

“miss princess. lovely seeing you here again. you’ve escaped me once and it will take a lot for that to happen again.” her words made you swallow, a little frightened but not letting it show, so you held your ground against her.

“you don’t have to worry cass, it’ll happen again. i’m sure of it.” her eyes brighten at the nickname, giggling as she walked over to johnny storm.

it didn’t take long for her to release you as alioth slowly lowers from the sky, hungry for his next meal.

you quickly run over to a weird jet pack thing, watching as both boys follow you, johnny staying behind.

the three of you flew away on the magical item, you shouted quickly, “take us west! that’s where the house is!” she shouts to wade who is somehow controlling the thing from the bottom.

when you arrived at the house, you saw the others, as in the former x-men, which were all very familiar with you.

they greeted you, and you introduced them to the boys.

“this my friend wade! and this… is logan.” you say your excitement wandering off as you say logan’s name, wanting to purposely annoy him.

logan rolled his eyes and introduced himself to everybody sense you didn’t do it for him. the others noticed the frustrating tension between you and logan, most saw it as hatred, but gambit saw right through the both of you.

as everyone started to mingle, gambit approached you and introduced himself, his speed of speaking somehow easy for your brain to comprehend.

“you know, you and that logan guy would be one hot couple.” you almost choked on your spit, turning to him with your eyes wide.

“me… and logan…? like as in dog boy logan? like as in i fight people with claws like a furry, logan?” your comment made gambit chuckle, he nodded his head.

“yes, furry logan. it always startz as enemies, i tink you and him would really get along if you actully chose to.”

you rolled your eyes, “i’m gonna have to disagree with you on that one, mr gambit. i hate that man with a passion.”

he just shrugged his shoulders, looking around the room before looking over at you. “whatever you say, miss y/n. i may just see somefin you don’t.”

about an hour later, the group was all gathered around the table, trying to figure out a plan to capture and kill cassandra.

“okay. cassandra has her big army of dick-riders, so we have to find someway to distract/kill them without the others getting suspicious.” wade says, obviously opening the conversation for ideas.

“maybe we just go head first and attack them all?” electra suggests, which is a good idea, but someone would end up getting killed.

wade looks like he has a light bulb moment, and he turns to you. “remember that one time when we fought off those guys behind the bar in new york, and you did your little dance fighting thing, slowly killing them without the others knowing because you seduced them first,” wade said, sparking memory in your head. everyone else looked confused, while logan looked completely against the idea already.

“yes, how could i forget? that night started my tradition of dance fighting.”

wade smirks, “what if we use that in this? you seduce and fight the guards while we sneak in. i went by earlier and saw the army only comes out when it’s a group, so if it’s just you, seducing the guards, they won’t question a thing.”

wade’s idea makes your face lighten up, loving the idea of being the center of attention. “and how do we know this will work?” logan’s voice is obviously unamused.

“it’s never failed.” you spoke, shooting him a smirk before turning back to wade.

“yeah. let’s do it. i’ll walk up, distract the guard while you guys go through the back and sneak in, just give me a signal when you finally kill that bald bitch, because sway my hips for so long.��

your comment causes the other to laugh, except for logan, as usual. he just huffs, already not liking the idea.

you’re outside the house, everyone getting into the car, no seats for you and logan. “can you guys just sit in the trunk?”

you shoot him a look, knowing it won’t end well.

“out of all two people to out in the trunk, you should be smart enough to know him and i are the worst ones possible.”

logan scowled in agreement, if scowling in agreement was even possible.

wade just shrugged, telling you guys to suck it up and just get in the back, because we were only driving a few minutes.

you rolled your eyes, opening the back and getting in.

logan watched you with narrowed eyes, rolling his eyes before plopping in the trunk. he closed it behind him, and once it was closed, he scooted as far away as possible from you.

you scoffed and roll your eyes, “i don’t bite, ya know.” your words made him chuckle.

“you seem like you would with all those snarky comments you make.” his words make your mouth fall open, slightly offended.

“are you calling me a fucking ankle-biter?”

“yes.”

logan’s quick yes added to your loss for words, unable to form a sentence as you just sat there with your mouth open.

logan chuckled, but realized he was chuckling and stopped himself, quickly looking out the back window, trying to hide the fact he almost got comfortable around you.

when you guys finally arrived, wade got out and hit the button on the trunk.

logan got out abnormally fast, making wade laugh. you got out, grabbing your suit.

when you got you, wade closed the back and got back in the car, driving away and leaving you there.

you ran to the nearest room, changed into your suit, then stared walking toward cassandra's lair.

wade was parking on the side, his car hidden as he watched you slowly walk up to the group, boombox in hand.

wade pressed play on his phone, the song 'murder on the dancefloor' starting to blast on the boombox, drawing attention to you as you slowly walked up to the guards.

you set the boombox down onto the ground, walking up to the first guard, smiling at him as you placed both your hands on his shoulders, swaying your hips.

you slowly swayed down his body, hands roaming all over him. he was clearly into it, and that's what made it even better for you.

you slowly brought him to the side, pretending to kiss him, knocking him unconscious.

you slowly knocked down each guard with your moves and hands, seducing them then knocking them out.

you left them all in a pile, on top of each other, on the side of cassandra's lair.

when you were done, you walked over to the car, knocking on the window, as wade rolls it down.

"haven't seen you in your suit doing your thing for a few years! that was perfect!" wade exclaimed, getting out of the car.

you smiled, noticing how quite logan was from the trunk.

"you have about 30 minutes to get your asses in there before all the guards wake up." is all you say, earning a nod from wade and the rest of the group.

"yes ma'am." wade says, only half joking.

you nod as everyone gets out of the car, you push the button in the back so logan is able to do that.

logan huffs as he finally gets out. "i didn't need your help."

you could tell something was up. something different.

you roll your eyes, “oh, my bad mr. tough guy.” logan let out a scowl, and you watch his body shivered. you were unsure whether it was from anger or something else.

“you just love to push my buttons, don’t you.” his raspy, low voice caused you to turn your head, noticing the fact that he was actually pissed off by you. it made you want to annoy him more. you’d been grating on his nerves for this whole mission, and it barely even started.

“yes. that’s my job, dog boy, keep you on your toes.”

as much as you may despise logan, you have to grant it to him, he knows what he's doing, and he's admirable with it. this time, his voice is tired, not annoyed.

which makes you hold back a giggle. you’re tiring him. that’s something you find cute. “whatever woman, just shut up.”

and you do. you figure you can always annoy him more later, but right now there’s grater matters to deal with.

you hop back into the car, going into the front and making yourself comfortable as the others go to fight. your part was done and now you were more than happy to take the time you could to relax.

later that day, the mission was over with, and it didn't go as planned.

"i did all that ass shaking for nothing?" your words cause the group to have a collective laugh, except for logan, per usual.

"you'll live." his comment sends a shot through your heart, which you show, pretending to faint and holding your heart with your right hand.

"no.. i won't," you say, in stuttered breaths. wade just rolled his eyes at how dramatic you were, but the others seemed to love your jokes.

"will you quit that, you dramatic dingo?" wade's words snd nickname cause you to stop, bursting out into laughter with the rest of the team. except again for the usual exception, logan.

after everyone calms down it's settled that you, wade and logan were going to go through the portal, while the others stayed behind and you got them out later.

you arrived once again at cassandra's lair. yesterday you had captured her and she offered to let you guys to the real world, however, with a price. that woman never gave out things for free. there was some kind of catch and you knew that, but chose to ignore it for the time being, more ready to go back home to your regular universe.

it was just before dark, and as you walked into the lair, cassandra was sat in her chair, she turned to face you as you walked up the ramp. "hello boys, and y/n. welcome back. are you finally set for our trade?"

the three of you nodded, wade stepped forward. "yes we're ready miss death giver. please send us home." his words were so unserious, yet spoken in a serious tone and it almost made it seem serious. even logan almost chuckled.

cassandra opened the portal, watching carefully as the three of you walked through. you made it through, feeling as if you were falling to your death.

as you were falling from the sky, you turned to see logan, next to you, also falling, questionably close to you. he still managed to have his signature grumpiness as he was practically falling to his death, and he rolled his eyes and held a hand out to you, which caused your eyebrow to raise.

was he being... thoughtful toward you? that's a fucking first.

you accepted his hand, the two of you falling together onto a tree, groaning as the pain was still present. you heard some kind of click in the sky and slowly watched wade fall, landing on a poison ivy garden. you chuckled, then turned to logan, seeing his eyes still shut, his breath huffing and puffing. you then looked down, noticing that your hands were still holding each other.

you started to panic and let go, watching his eyes open slowly and his breathing start to slow down. "what, didn't want to hold my hand?" his snarky comment caused you to roll your eyes.

"no. you'll live." you say, using his comment from earlier.

he bares his teeth as a way of holding back another mean comment, watching as you slowly got up, starting to make your way over to wade, leaving his limp body there, by himself.

finally, the three of you make it back to wade's home. it was practically midnight and all the three of you were extremely drained after the day you had.

"you guys can stay here for the night with me, i have a spare bedroom and a couch." wade's words made you perk up, but logan beat you to it before you could say anything.

"you can take the couch. you're small enough to fit on it." you clench your jaw at logan's comment, sighing as wade shakes his head.

“not in my house, logan. as much as i love you mr. mutt, miss twerkalator over here gets the bed. unless you two want to share it."

logan looks at you, eyeing you up and down before shaking his head. "i'll take the couch."

you two walk into the room, and logan's eyes widen at the king sized bed.

he turns to you, his face obviously fighting back a decision. "we can share it. if that's okay with you. i propose a pillow wall."

you shook your head and giggled. "fine logan. only if there's a pillow wall. i want the right side though."

with a roll of his eyes, he sets his stuff down on the left side, you go out to say goodnight to wade, who must've changed into sweatpants and a hoodie cause he's no longer in his suit.

when you walk out, he's is wiggling his eyebrows at you. "you two have fun sharing that bed, okay? if you decide to fuck, let me know so i can come watch."

his words make you physically cringe, watching as his face is purely serious. this man was not joking. you roll your eyes, "there will be no fucking on your spare bed, wade. especially not with him." your cold words make wade shake his head.

"whatever you say, princess. if i hear moaning i'll assume it's the neighbors."

his final comment makes you flip him off as you walk back into the room, he blows you a kiss before you shut the door behind you.

logan is in the bathroom, then he walks out. "there's a shower in here. just letting you know. i'm gonna take one first, you can go after me if you need to." his tone seems calmer, but you assumed it was only because of his tiredness.

you nodded, just accepting the fact he was showering first and sitting yourself on the floor, grabbing your phone.

you didn't want to get the bed dirty, especially with your suit. so you just picked out your clothes, and waited for logan to be finished with his shower.

another quite twenty minutes and the bathroom door swung open.

he walks out, a plain white towel hanging low around his hips, his chest hair carrying small water droplets, a few dropping to the floor as he walked. his body is sculpted and wonderfully chiseled. his chest was defined, along with his abs, his veins evident, and his abs defined. there was a little trail of hair along his v-line, leading to below the towel. his beard had a few drops of water still left in it, assuming it was damp.

you swallowed, trying to ignore the fact that his body was perfect, setting your clothes onto the bed and rushing yourself into the shower.

you tried to push back the possible thoughts of him looking delicious, and decided to just brush them off in your shower. but as you stepped in, it got worse.

the warm water hit your cold skin, almost like a reverse burn, but a good burn. it felt nice on your timid skin, you used this as a way to try and ignore the feeling you just had when you saw logan shirtless.

as much as you hated him, you couldn’t deny it. he was fucking hot. and his body was even hotter.

you physically shook off the thoughts as you noticed a face wash in the shower. wade and his skincare. you grabbed it and used it, aggressively washing your face from all the dirty thoughts you just had and then washing your body, your hair, adding conditioner, then stepping out of the shower.

you dry of your body, deciding to do the same thing he did. you walked out, your breasts pushed up on the towel as you held it, grabbing your clothes off the bed, then walking back into the bathroom to change.

as you shut the door, you caught a glimpse of logan staring at your body and when he quickly looked away, you knew you had got him.

you got yourself changed, throwing your hair into one of wade’s bright pink towels and going to sit on the bed. you were sat awkwardly on one side, while logan was sat awkwardly on the other.

you grabbed your phone, trying to drown out the awkward silence through your instagram feed, but it wasn’t cutting it.

logan wasn’t even trying to deny the awkward silence, he just stood there, letting his thoughts overload his brain.

he huffed, before grabbing the towel by his bed, placing it onto his pillow and setting his head down. “i’m gonna go to sleep. don’t wake me up.”

his harsh words make you want to laugh, remembering the scared look he had on his face when you caught him staring form just minutes ago, but you decided to let him rest and leave him be for the night.

he quickly fell asleep, beginning to snore, which made you laugh, but you quickly got tired yourself and set the phone down, plugging it in and falling asleep yourself.

you slept for a few hours, before you woke up, your mouth incredibly dry and in need of some water.

you slowly got up, trying not to knock over the pillow wall as you did so, you slowly opened and shut the door behind you, trying to refrain from any noise. you walked out to the kitchen, grabbing a glass from wade’s cupboard and filling it up with his fancy filtered water from the fridge. you took a sip, the cold liquid instantly wetting your throat, easing your cotton mouth.

you started to look at the magnets on wade’s fridge, smiling as you saw multiple pictures, even one of you and him. it was a selfie he stopped to take in the middle of a mission. he was a fucking goofball.

you turned and jumped, seeing logan behind you. he was grabbing a glass for himself. “did i scare you?” he just chuckled at you and got some of the tap water, chugging it. he obviously knew the answer to that and was just asking to piss you off even more.

you rolled your eyes, ignoring his question and getting more to the water from the filter. he rolled his eyes. “filtered water? seriously? now i see why you and wade get along so well. you both are incredibly boujee.” his use of the word boujee practically makes you spit out your water into the sink.

“i never expected that word to be in your dictionary.” you said, honestly, watching as he chuckled, filling up his water and sipping it this time.

“there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.” his voice was low and raspy, lower than usual. it was his sleepy voice, you were trying not to let it get it you. didn’t matter what he said. it was the voice that was the problem.

“yeah? like that you snore in your sleep? just found that out a few hours ago.”

logan scoffed, clenching then unclenching his jaw, holding back a roll of his eyes. “yes, i snore. i didn’t even know until my ex-wife told me.”

the mention of his ex-wife made the room go silent, with the exception of the faucet dropping a few times.

his comment just reminded you of how much older he was than you. you decided to not let it be awkward by keeping the conversation going.

“ex-wife huh? how many of those have you had?” your snark comment making his eyes actually roll this time.

he could hear the teasing nature in your voice and didn’t take it the wrong way, but was still acting annoyed, because he always tried to be with you.

“i’m not answering that question.” his response made you giggle. you just smiled to him, deciding to tease him a bit.

“you gonna make me guess?”

with a roll of his eyes he set his glass into the sink, and you didn’t realize his body was slowly getting closer to yours.

“don’t guess. cause i won’t tell you.”

you hid back a smile, looking up at him. “you know, i caught you staring earlier.” your blunt comment made all his attention go on you, eyes searching you up and down for any sign of discomfort at the thought of him staring at your body.

“i was not staring.” his voice was still low and husky, making your stomach get butterflies. you watched to stop them but you couldn’t help it. logan was towering over you and all you could do was look up at him.

he body moved closer to you as you said your next comment. “you definitely were. i saw it with my own two eyes.”

your comment must’ve struck a nerve in him, because his body was now fully pressed up against you, one hand on your hip while the other rested on the fridge above your head. you were unsure of what to do, he practically had you pinned to the fridge.

“i said, i wasn’t staring, doll. what part of that don’t you get?” he spoke slower this time, eyes daggering into yours, making your heart flutter.

“okay. you weren’t staring.” your words make him smile a bit.

“that’s right.” his voice was taunting almost, and it made you shiver. he stared down at you, and as he separated himself from you, you noticed, a bulge in his pants. you giggled to yourself as he walked back into the room. leaving you there, with your many ideas in your head of how the rest of the night could go.

you take a deep breath, composing yourself before walking back into the room. you laid down on your side of the pillow wall, staring at the ceiling. little did you know he was doing the same.

you took a deep breath before you said your next sentence. “you know, it’s okay to get a boner. it’s normal.”

your comforting yet embarrassing words caused his cheeks to flush. your words made him realize you noticed his bulge, and he huffed before throwing each of the four pillows in the pillow wall onto the floor.

“what did you just say?”

you tried to hide back your amused giggle. “you heard me and you know it.”

your eyes glared into his, watching his face as his jaw clenched. he knew he’d been caught.

“i said, it’s okay to have a boner. i know you’re hard because of our interaction. and because of seeing me in nothing but a towel. you don’t have to hide your attraction for me, logan. i’m not stupid. i know it’s there.”

your words cause a battle within him internally. there’s no denying that your words sent a shiver down his body. frankly, he wouldn't be surprised if a wet patch appeared in his pants.

he tries to think of something snarky to respond with, wanting to ignore the aroused feeling he had, not wanting you to have the slightest hint about how he was feeling.

you decided to speak again before he could, "in fact, i'm sure it's getting worse the more i speak-" you don't have time to finish your surly sentence before he's right there, his hot breath fanning your face from above, his forearms on either side of your head, trapping you in.

"you know what? yeah. you're the reason why i'm hard. doing your fucking dance fighting. i had to hide how hard i was. watching you kill those guys so effortlessly, and looking sexy while you did it. and, god you walking around here in nothing but a towel, last night where you worse the littlest shorts that barely even cover your ass. that's what made me hard. god, and i've been trying to hide it for so long but it just seems like i'm affecting you too."

he growls, his face falling to your neck, the intersection of your shoulder, his lips just brushing the flesh before inhaling deeply; almost animalistic.

you smile, looking up at him, getting another idea. you bat your eyelashes and take his hand, knocking him to his side as he's forced to lay next to you. “lo, you do affect me, so bad," you take his hand and lead it down to your core, pressing his hand to your clothed pussy. "right here. you feel that? feel how wet i am? it's all cause of you."

you watch as his mouth falls open and his pants tighten, seeing his dick twitch in his sweatpants. he's at a loss for words. he was expecting you to submit to him, but the way you didn't sent shivers down his spine.

"yeah? i did that?" his mouth now forms to a smirk, looking over at you, down to your lips and up to your eyes.

"yes you did. and i've been aching, waiting for you to come help me out." you watch as his head falls back, a puff of air falling from his mouth.

"fuck, stop talking." his command only eggs you on. you being the little menace you are, continue with your teasing.

"need you so bad logan. so bad right here. she's been aching. calling for you. god, she's so tight and needs something to stretch her out, think you can do that? i bet you’re so big, could stretch her out real good.”

you watch as his body shakes, and you notice a wet patch on his sweatpants, realizing the fact that he just came, just from the words you were saying and the slight touch of your clothed pussy.

"you must've been waiting for this huh? already came in your pants. naughty boy."

logan doesn't let you get another word, because his lips press to yours. after so much waiting, the tension was finally being released through a kiss.

the two of you continue your messy kiss, and it doesn't take long for his hands to stray, his palms skimming down your hot flesh, and leaving goose bumps in his wake.

“fucking hell, woman,” he whines, getting on top of you again, kissing your lips. "you're gonna look so much better when I mark you up, every inch of you. you already look like you’re mine."

his words made you moan, tugging at your shirt, signaling for you to take it off, which you do, you throw it over your head and across the room. leaving you in nothing but your soaked panties.

“god, so fucking pretty. you know how hard it was for me not to do this to you earlier on? you know how long i’ve been fucking waiting?” his harsh words make your body tremble. he slowly kissed your breasts.

his tongue swirled across your left nipple, sucking on it, eyes up on you, watching your face, watching it contort into pleasure because of him.

he kisses and gives love to the other breast, sucking on it as his hands slowly roam your body, overstimulating you with his touch.

he slowly descends while pulling at the waist of your panties. it appears like that's when he realizes it, pulling away from you, breathing heavily, his beard tingling your hip bones.

his desperate eyes look up at you, searching your face for any regret to which he found none.

he takes off your panties, shoving them in his pocket. "i'm gonna keep these."

his words make you moan again. you look down and he has a devilish grin on his face, both his arms wrapping around your legs, nibbling on your thighs before starting to devour as if he's starving and you're his last meal.

his tongue immediately fucks into your hole, eyes never leaving your face as he works his magic. his nose rubs against your clit, moaning the more he gets into it.

he was being so messy, and it was making you wetter, which then continued to make the situation even messier.

his facial hair caresses your swelling pearl as he eats you whole, without any hesitation—to him, you are a complete feast.

the most exquisite sight you have ever seen is his tongue in your pussy as he gives you sloppy kisses.

you can only watch, gripping his hair and running your fingers through his dark locks, yanking for some semblance of stability, something to keep you bound to this world because the pleasure you feel is unfathomable.

"fuck, logan that feels amazing?" your words only edge him on, watching as his silly smirk turns to a devilish grin.

"does it baby? tell me more." his voice is still low and husky, and he grips your thighs tighter, noticing your body shaking.

but you're so close, perched precariously on the brink of something amazing, something profound, something cosmic. you are crying as he gets closer and closer to you, enjoying every taste of his tongue in your cave and every nuzzle of his nose to your extremely sensitive spot.

"i'm so close." is all you are able to say, feeling a bit embarrassed at the fact the man you once despised was now between your legs, making you yell for him.

"yeah? come on doll, i'll take you there." his words mixed with his stimulations on your clit and fucking of your hole finally bring you to the edge.

your body trembles and shakes as he makes you cum for the first time of the night, you drench his face in your juices, loving how intimate he was with his way pleasuring you.

"good fucking girl." his words combined with his look turns you back on instantly, sending shivers down to your core as you finally come down from your high.

he comes up, you place both hands on either sides of his face, his soaked beard tickling your fingers. "you're gonna ruin me, aren't you?"

his smile only grows, as he begins to lower his sweatpants, "i'm gonna make it so no other man is able to top what i do to you tonight."

his words make you moan, he presses a kiss to your forehead before letting his dick free, you watched as the precum dripped onto your stomach, trying to ignore how hot it was. god, even his dick was hairy. but today was the day you finally decided to admit that you loved every fucking hair on his body.

he slowly aligned with your aching pussy, which is practically waiting just to suck him in. he slowly pushes in, earning a moan to fall from his soaked lips.

you hiss, but as he stretches you, the minor pain only makes you want to absorb him completely more. your ass reaches his thighs, causing you to realize that he's now balls deep in you.

he mutters, "fucking hell," letting out the most agonizing sigh yet.

his movements begin slowly as you becomes accustomed to his immense girth filling you up to the brim.

even the smallest movement causes your walls to become tense around the ridges of his dick, grinding against you so strongly. with each rock, his breathing gets deeper, his eager pants and short pleas filling the air as he picks up tempo.

he moves faster, eyes gazing into yours, he pulls his hand up and places it on your stomach, pressing down knowing it would increase the pleasure for you.

“tell me baby, talk to me. how does it feel?” he already knew the answer to that, but he absolutely loved the thought of you beneath him, trembling under of his manipulation.

“so fucking good.” your harsh words make his dick twitch.

“yeah? tell me more, hon.” your head falls back, hair sprawling onto the pillows as your body shook, feeling overstimulated by his words and thrusts, that were picking up speed, and the fact that you had already came once, and fast. you knew you wouldn’t last much longer.

he looks down at you, letting his hand trail from your stomach to your mouth. “open.”

you watch carefully, eyes never leaving his as his fingers slowly slide into your mouth, moaning as he remains eye contact and watches you suck on them. seeing that makes him imagine how good your tight little mouth would feel around his dick.

“god, you’re gorgeous.” he says, finally admitting it.

all you can do it smile, realizing this is the first time he’s ever genuinely complimented you, and you decided to take it in, and tease him with it. per usual.

“think that’s the first time you’ve ever complimented me. you finally letting yourself see how fucking hot i am?”

your words apparently get to him because he winces. not a sad wince, a pathetic ‘i need to cum’ type wince.

“stop that.” his voice is harsh, a bit whiny, as he continues to thrust into you, both hand now on your hips as he hovers above you, his tip hitting your cervix, stretching you out just for him.

"stop what, logan? you don't like hearing about how we could've fucked so much earlier, if you just quit the fucking act and admitted how horny i made you?" your dirty talk was working on him and you were loving it.

the man was whimpering, his hips starting to stutter, as he pounded into you, wanting to make you cum before he did.

"if you keep talking like that i'm gonna cum, y/n." you smiled up at him, knowing you were close as well.

your tired eyes batted up at him, a small smile forming on your face.

"then cum. do it. fucking cum, i'll cum with you, yeah? filling me up so good, you feel her clenching? that's all from you baby, you got me this hot and bothered, now make me fucking cum." your words flipped a switch in him.

he started pounding into you, balls slapping repeatedly against your ass as he moved, keeping his same pace but now fucking you harder.

he moaned into your ear, "yeah? i'll make you fucking cum. gonna make you cum so hard the only thing you'll remember is my fucking name," his harsh words and the fact he could go from submissive to dominant so fast made you go over the edge for the final time that night.

you finally came, the continuous pressure in your bundle of nerves, the hot white wave of pleasure sends you hurtling through the sky and to heaven in an instant, leaving you in a state of unrestrained bliss that you cannot predict.

your body is electrified from head to toe. somewhere in the mix of your earth-shattering orgasm logan came as well, the sight of you in such state making him reach his peak, filling your walls with his hot sticky cum.

you both sat there for a second, catching your breath, and suddenly you looked down to see logan’s hot cum gushing out of you and onto the bedsheets, the sight becoming to hot to handle, as you both moaned in unison.

he got up and went to the bathroom, getting a rag from the cupboard and drowning it in hot sink water, ringing it out before walking over to you and cleaning you up.

his tongue licked up some of the mixed cum, and you watched with big eyes, feeling even more aroused at the sight.

he used the rag to get the rest and wipe off his beard from your juices.

he threw the rag into the hamper, climbing into bed next to you again, this time a lot closer and with no pillow wall.

instead, you rested in his arms, smiling up at him, as the two of you finally fell asleep.

the next morning, you and logan lay for a bit before you throw on one of his shirts and some of your shorts and walk out to the kitchen, seeing wade sitting at this dining table with his fake glasses on, drinking a cup of coffee in his ‘love yourself’ mug.

he eyes the both of you as you walk out, taking note of the outfit changes.

he smiled. “morning sunshine’s. how’d the night go? did you guys hear my neighbors downstairs at all? sounded like they were getting it on, the guy was moaning and groaning, must’ve been havin’ a grand ole’ time,” wade says, doing the thrust motion with his arms up causing logan’s face to turn a bit pink, making you laugh loudly.

he came up to you, hands around your waist and lips near your ear.

“try to walk in a straight line, sweetheart, then we’ll see who’s laughing.”

a/n: SURPRISEEEE hiii guys! this is what i have been working on all day! i wanted to spoil you with more then just a drabble while i had motivation. MWAH I HOPE U ENJOYED!

[fayes-fics]

To Know You…

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Benedict knows you better than anyone. But does he know himself well enough to know what he truly wants?

Warnings: none really… fluffy fluff. Childhood friends, class differences, marriage mart shenanigans, dancing, marriage proposals, Benedict being adorable while also a complete dumbass, unrequited to requited love, love confessions.

Word Count: 10.4k (yeah, it's a long one, folks)

Authors Note: this is a request fill for @curlsincriminology (ask HERE) about Benedict showing you all the wonderful things he sees in you, but will he figure out his own feelings before it's too late? Thanks to the complete trooper @colettebronte for beta reading this monster one-shot. Enjoy <3

I: To Know You….

“I would rather not, Miss y/l/n,” the young man clips, walking away from you at a brusque pace. 

You sigh and look down at your feet. Mrs Parsons will be so very disappointed, is all you can think.

—

Benedict may not have heard the words spoken, but even from his vantage point at the other end of the ballroom, he could see the disdainful way the young man uttered his parting words to you. It makes anger flare hot in his chest, his fist forming reflexively at his side.

He watches as you look down, shoulders hunching, folding in on yourself physically, as if the rejection for a dance has manifested in a body blow. He feels a pang in his gut—of sympathy, indignance on your behalf and mainly at the injustice of it all. To him, you are a wonderful, intelligent, caring person worthy of a good match. Still, the circumstances of your upbringing seem to stymie your attempts to join so-called ‘polite’ society at every turn…

—

You look up with a defeated mien until your eyes land on one person who has always been able to ameliorate any of your more morose moods—Benedict Bridgerton. Instantly, you feel lighter. You give him a polite nod across the crowded room, and, to your delight, he returns it, a hint of a sympathetic smile tugging at his lips. It is just so very characteristic of him to offer silent support, to understand, from witnessing a moment of interaction, precisely what you are feeling. A large part of you feels so wistful that there is no other man quite as nice as him. Suddenly, your overwhelming need is to leave this stuffy ballroom and catch some air.

You grew up under the tutelage of the kindly doctor’s widow, Mrs Parsons, whose house is not far from the vast Bridgerton estate in Kent. The naturally born daughter of nobody quite knows whom, you were taken in as her ward when you were abandoned upon her doorstep at a mere two years old. Her reputation for kindness towards young waifs and strays is likely why you were left there. It is an event you were too young to recall, so all you have known your whole life is her generosity and kindness, raising you as if her own. 

And now that you are of age, she takes you to events around Kent in the hopes of securing you a respectable husband, the most prestigious being tonight’s Hearts and Flowers Ball at Aubrey Hall. The Bridgertons have always been gracious enough to invite local families, those without the means to partake in the London season, to events at their country estate—a kindness that allows for your attendance tonight. It’s just such a pity that the one bachelor Mrs Parsons was so very keen for you to meet, one Mr Reeves, just rebuffed you so thoroughly. 

You glance down at the remaining empty slots on the dance card tied to your wrist and sigh again. Now that you are out on the terrace in the fresh evening air, the light breeze is at least a partial balm, allowing you to recover from the sting of rejection away from the hubbub of the ballroom.

“I will never understand how the men of this county can consider themselves anything approaching mannered.” 

You would know that refined voice anywhere. It haunts your dreams. Just the sound of it making your ribs tighten. You turn to see Benedict sauntering towards you, two drinks in hand, that sympathetic smile still in place.

“You are far better off without such rudeness,” he adds dryly as he pulls up beside you, arching an eyebrow for your entertainment.

“You are far too kind, Mr Bridgerton,” you answer, taking the glass he offers with a meek smile, trying not to let your ardent admiration for him be too evident. 

“Mr Bridgerton?!?” he scoffs, “What happened to BenBen?” he teases gently, recalling your childhood name for him when you were a mere four and he was nine.

“We are at a formal event; I should address you as such, should I not?” you reply playfully, a warmth spreading inside as it always does when you get the chance to have a witty, convivial exchange with him.

By gosh, if there is one man to whom you would pledge yourself without hesitation, it is him. But, of course, he is the second son of an illustrious family. To think you would have any chance to win his heart would be as likely as a future king to marry a commoner. Still, you can dream…

“At least call me Benedict, Skylark,” he winks over his wine glass as he takes a sip, butterflies erupting in your tummy at the affectionate nickname he has used since you were small; you have to avert your eyes to avoid blushing deeply.

Just as he goes to speak again, his brother, the Viscount, materialises at his side. Looking to all intents and purposes as if he is trying to escape the ball as much as you are.

“Mother is best avoided tonight, brother,” Anthony warns sagely, taking a large gulp of his champagne. “She is under the erroneous impression I am suddenly in want of a wife.”

You can't stop the giggle that bubbles up from within at his wry observation of his predicament.

“Hello, y/n,” he greets warmly, just noticing you are also there, his face morphing into a youthful, playful grin. If Benedict is the husband you have always dreamed of, Anthony is the elder brother you have always yearned for. In fact, that is always how he has treated you, akin to Eloise and Daphne, who you grew up playing with, being of similar age.

“Hello, Anthony,” you chime back. “How was the hunt earlier? Did the infamous Bridgerton brothers kill another prized stag?” you inquire, keen to engage both of them for as long as they will entertain you. Just being around them always lifts your spirits to no end.

—

Benedict observes you as you listen intently to Anthony’s recounting of the hunt earlier that day, impressed by your resilience. He has no doubts any other woman would feign an attack of the vapours had a man rejected her so harshly. But here you are, politely listening to his brother’s boasting, even though he can tell you are hurting inside.

Perhaps it helps that your snub went primarily unnoticed. You are unknown to the Ton; any witnesses likely dismissing it as the business of ‘country folk’ unworthy of note. Which, frankly, he could scoff at, seeing as he holds you in higher regard than all of the other attendees combined.

“How about you?” Anthony ends his story with a question to you, interrupting Benedict’s train of thought. “How has your experience been at our fine event this evening?”

“Oh, the house is splendidly decorated and the music wonderful,” you obfuscate behind flattery. Anthony appears to buy it, but Benedict sees behind your facade, the flame behind your usually bright gaze dimming a little, making something ache in his gut to see it. 

Damn that idiot for ruining your evening! This just won’t do…

—

You can feel Benedict’s eyes upon you as you respond abstractly to Anthony.

“Y/n here is too polite to say it, but she was treated harshly by that young Reeves chap from Tenterden,” Benedict edifies as you bow your head, embarrassed. “Let’s be sure to rescind his invitation to future events, brother,” he appends with a surly tone.

“Duly noted,” Anthony nods sincerely, a brush of confusion flitting over his face regarding his brother's vehemence.

“No, there is no need…” you begin to protest weakly but halt mid-sentence under the intensity of Benedict’s gaze.

“I bore witness. Believe me, He shall not darken our door again,” he states firmly.

It appears the matter is very much decided, and you don’t want to put up much of a fight, seeing as it ultimately benefits you. You do, however, want to bathe in the warm glow inside whenever Benedict defends you. It's wonderful to have someone looking out for you, especially one so handsome and kind.

—

Two days later, you are taking afternoon tea with Mrs Parsons at the local tea shop when Benedict breezes in, looking so majestic dressed in Bridgerton blues that you grind to a halt. Luckily, he has not seen you as he makes a beeline for the counter.

“‘Tis rude to stare, my dear,” Mrs Parsons lectures sotto voce, nodding to your teacup, frozen in mid-air.

You shake your head a touch and place said item back in your saucer as she turns briefly to look at what or who caught your attention. Then she reaches out, her lace-gloved hand gently patting yours. 

“It would be prudent to set your sights a little more realistic…” she advises with a sympathetic air.  “Not that I fault your choice,” she adds, so quietly at first you're not sure you heard her correctly, but there is a tiny playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. Your mouth falls open fractionally, and you stare as she shrugs. “I may be old, my dear, but I am not blind.”

Well, I never, Mrs Parsons!

As you take a bite of food, Benedict twists around from speaking to the proprietor, and he sees you. There’s a jolt down your spine as he breaks into a huge smile that claims his whole face. And you almost choke on scone crumbs as he makes a beeline over to you rather than the exit.

“Good afternoon, Miss y/l/n, Mrs Parsons!” he greets effusively. “Would it be terribly impolite to ask to join you briefly?”

Mrs Parsons' face is a picture of surprise. “Not at all; the pleasure is ours, Mr Bridgerton,” she responds affably, gesturing to the spare chair at your small round table.

As Benedict sits, Mrs Parsons shoots you an incredulous look. It's your turn to shrug fractionally.

“Mrs Parsons, I feel it necessary to tell you Mr Reeves was excessively rude to Miss y/l/n here at the ball, and I wanted to assure you that he will not be welcome at Aubrey Hall again,” he divulges sincerely.

Mrs Parsons looks taken aback and turns to you. “Why did you not tell me, my dear?”

“I-I did not think it necessary…” you twist your mouth into a bashful pout, biting your lip.

“Mr Bridgerton, thank you for bringing this to my attention, and I thank you for your generous offer, but that sort of action does not seem warranted,” she replies accommodatingly.

“That is what I said…” “That is what she said…”

You and Benedict speak in unison at the exact same moment, and your eyes ping to each other, both laughing then bowing your heads immediately. You know your cheeks are flushed.

—

Benedict loves the look in your eye sometimes. That spirited sparkle with glowing cheeks. In his opinion, that is the only look you should ever wear; no one, especially one as unworthy as Mr Reeves, should be allowed to rob you of it. He feels a strong compulsion to do everything in his power to keep you looking like that—carefree, happy, stunning. It’s what motivates his subsequent words.

“If it is not considered too impudent for me to do so, I have a suggestion for Miss y/l/n’s introduction into society,” Benedict offers sincerely. “I believe you should be able to find her an excellent, worthy match by casting a wider net.”

“What are you proposing, Mr Bridgerton?” Mrs Parsons inquiries, almost warily.

“That Miss y/l/n come to London and partake in the remainder of the season as a guest of my family. My mother seems to think it an excellent idea, and I know my younger sister Eloise is already a good friend. I do not see why they could not attend events together,” he shrugs genially.

Mrs Parsons's face is a picture again. “You have already spoken to the Dowager Viscountess of this matter?” she checks, unable to modulate the astonishment in her tone.

“Of course,” he confirms with a nod. “I made such a suggestion this morning when your names came up. She heartily concurs. Miss y/l/n here is too bright and good of a person to have her marital choice limited by geography or circumstance.”

His eyes fall on you, and his heart gallops at the searing look you are giving him.

—

You don’t even try to temper your doe-eyed expression as you look upon Benedict, him extolling your virtues to the audience of the tea room. 

Even distracted by all the wondrous things he has to say, you can detect the noise level on the surrounding tables has reduced; everyone in town always keen to eavesdrop on a Bridgerton conversation. Especially one that contains such noteworthy gossip as a local young lady being invited to the London season at the family’s behest.

“My dear, I trust that Lady Bridgerton will look after you well,” Mrs Parsons professes. “I have no objections should you desire to seize this opportunity.” Her tone pointed, very much encouraging you to do so.

“That would be just wonderful, Mr Bridgerton,” you exhale with a grateful smile. “I cannot thank you enough for even thinking to raise such a petition.”

“Think nothing of it, Miss y/l/n,” he smiles, standing up and giving you both a brief, shallow bow. “I shall see you anon, no doubt.” 

And with that, he sweeps out of the tearoom, your eye line tracking his concave outline through the curved glass as he rounds the corner out of sight.

“Well, well,” Mrs Parsons puffs out her cheeks. “I am not sure what you did to inspire such actions in a gentleman. But bravo, my dear, bravo,” she holds her teacup aloft in a toast. 

You are a jumble of emotions and could not even begin to answer Mrs Parsons about what you could possibly have done. Mostly, you are just elated by the prospect of the chance to attend the whirl of the London season, even if there is also a small pang of regret that Benedict is so keen to see you matched.

II: …Is To Love You

The following Tuesday, as your carriage pulls up outside the grandeur of Bridgerton House, you have nothing but butterflies. And as Lady Bridgerton - Violet as she insists you now call her - and her lady’s maid show you to your charming guest room, you cannot temper your excitement.

“Get yourself freshened up, my dear. There is a soiree this evening at the Queen’s new residence no less, and there is no time like the present to begin your introductions,” the dowager viscountess warmly counsels.

You nod your thank yous, and after they take their leave, you twirl excitedly around the room, taking in the elegant furnishings and airy sunlight flooding in. You pull up in front of a large sash window and are delighted to see bounteous gardens beneath. The rear of the property is very much an oasis of calm in the heart of the city. But one sight in particular draws your eye: a majestic oak with two swings attached to a stately arm. It looks like a place of refuge, and you feel oddly compelled to take a seat there.

Three hours later, walking into the palatial Buckingham House, you are in a different world from the one you know in Kent. Candlelit crystal chandeliers glint like towering clusters of jewels, spraying thousands of shards of light around the room. Every railing is bedecked in hundreds of drooping flower garlands, and the walls groan with enormous portraits of royalty. The mellifluous strains of a chamber orchestra fill the air. Your grip on Eloise’s arm is tight as you try not to look agog at all the opulence surrounding you.

“And I thought Aubrey Hall was grand,” you murmur quietly, and she just guffaws.

—

Benedict arrives late to the soiree from his bachelor lodgings, bustling in as stealthily as possible, knowing he will likely catch his mother’s ire for his tardiness.

But then he sees a sight that makes him temporarily stop dead in his tracks. There, hanging on to his little sister, surveying the room utterly lost in reverie at its grandeur—is you. He has not seen you dressed up as you are now, made over with the full attention of the Bridgerton staff. And he isn't afraid to admit to himself, at least, that it catches his breath. How they have applied cosmetics and styled your hair, emphasising your already evident beauty. And the dress they have chosen… well, he is almost ashamed of the heat pooling low in his gut; he has never seen you in such tailored, refined silks. 

Whosoever marries you shall be quite the luckiest man indeed.

He doesn't miss the way you inhale sharply when your eyes finally land on him, his chest swelling slightly with pride as your lips part in surprise before breaking into that winning smile which always seems to brighten every room, tonight being no exception.

As he pulls up to the family, he hears his mother opining to you about the men attending the ball.

“Y/n, I would like to introduce you to Lord Shelton; he is a fine young man with many interests, and he has a lovely estate near Hove,” his mother recounts as you listen intently.

“Oh god, no,” Benedict immediately intervenes, “Shelton has amassed significant debt at the Pudding Lane gaming hell…” 

Violet looks up surprised, then raises an eyebrow. “Pray tell dear son, how do you have knowledge of such? Benedict Bridgerton, you had better not be frequenting the hells of the East End,” she threatens quietly, in that stern maternal manner that has any grown man quaking in their polished shoes.

“No, of course not, mother,” he bristles, his eyes cutting briefly to you, not wanting you to think such things of him. “It is an open secret at Whites’, and why he is currently banned from the card room there.”

—

You cannot tear your eyes off Benedict as his mother side-eyes him.

Violet hums sceptically before declaring. “Well, not to worry, there are plenty of other options available for Miss y/l/n…” She steers your attention towards another crowd of young men, all talking and sipping champagne. “Baron Corning, Lord Jennings, Viscount Tewkesbury,” she recounts, nodding subtly to each one. “Any would make a fine addition to your dance card, my dear.” 

“We can do much better than any of them,” Benedict chides.

You are slightly taken aback at how very much he sounds like Anthony tonight; apparently very invested in curating who you should dance with. The problem is, with each additional suggestion his mother makes to you, he roundly dismisses them out of hand. 

Is no one in attendance up to his standard?

“Benedict, dear, a word?” Violet states pointedly after a third round of his withering opinions. “Get yourself another lemonade,” she smiles at you, patting your hand before looping her arm in her son’s and dragging him away.

—

His mother’s arm is surprisingly strong when she needs it to be.

“Darling, may I remind you, while Miss Y/l/n is indeed a wonderful person, I do not think we can afford to be too picky for her prospects. Her background is rather… unestablished,” Violet points out diplomatically as soon as you are out of earshot.

“We can do better than braggards, bores and philanderers,” Benedict shoots back, raising a pointed eyebrow.

She looks up at him and sighs. “Well, that is true.”

“As I thought, mother,” he winks as she affectionately swats his forearm. “Why not benefit from my knowledge? In fact, perhaps it is prudent I assist in your search for a suitor.” 

“Oh, is it now?” Her tone suddenly filled with intrigue, her face entirely too scrutinising for his liking. “And does not my second son wish to join their ranks?” She adds entirely unsubtly.

“I have no time for romance; I have my art. I am most preoccupied.” He waves a dismissive hand, but even he knows his answer is tellingly brusque.

“And yet, you do not seem too busy to assist with the search, dear…” she points out archly. 

Benedict has no response to that. 

—

The day after the grand ball, you are sat in the dappled shade in the gardens of Bridgerton House, attempting needlework. It's never been your strength, frankly. You would much rather be allowed to partake in more physical pursuits, like archery or fencing, a want to burn off nervous energy as you await the arrival of any suitors. You did end up dancing with a couple of gentlemen, both of whom were…. fine… in your estimation.  

After messing up yet another stitch, you throw down the embroidery hoop and emit a deep sigh when a familiar chuckle rings out behind you.

“Not your favourite pastime?” Benedict correctly guesses.

“You can say that again,” you grumble, twisting to smile at him, a little frisson in your belly at his mere presence, alone as you are.

He rounds to take a seat opposite you, across the table.

“So let me guess,” his face charmingly skewed into a thoughtful mien. “You would prefer to be doing something, hmmmm, more athletic?”

You giggle and cast your eyes downwards briefly, abashed he seems to know you so well. “Correct again.”

“I remember you being a crack shot in archery,” he smiles nostalgically before continuing with genuine curiosity. “Why did you not continue it?”

“I was informed ‘tis unbecoming for a lady,” you rue, the mental image of Mrs Parsons deeming such things ‘unladylike’ flitting through your mind.

He scoffs. “Since when did fearsome little Skylark care one jot for societal expectations?” he teases gently, with a wink, as again he invokes the nickname he bestowed upon you a long time hence. 

You smile briefly before you become more sanguine. “Since I have been informed I must find a husband…” you sigh.

He frowns a touch. “Any man would be lucky to have a wife who can keep him company on the archery field. I know I, for one, would greatly appreciate a spouse with whom I could share such a pastime.” 

A bittersweet twinge in your gut that one day he will indeed be married to some deserving, no doubt elegant, lady.

“I would venture that you are not like most gentlemen in that regard…”

“Perhaps not,” he agrees, looking thoughtful, “but then you are not like most ladies, Skylark.”

“I am not a lady…” your counterpoint softly-spoken, almost ashamed.

“You are more lady than any other member of the Ton,” he asserts, his gaze suddenly intense, as if he is willing you to believe his point. “And you should be free to pursue any pastime you wish.”

You say nothing, just smile wanly, wishing you could believe it was true.

—

How you constantly doubt yourself causes a little stab behind Benedict’s ribs. A sudden burning need to prove that you should do as you please. He slaps his thighs and stands up swiftly. 

“In fact, I am going to go set up the archery targets right now,” he nods decisively, making a beeline for the far corner of the garden where he knows the targets are kept, hoping you will follow.

“Coming?” he calls, twisting to look back at you. “I won't tell anyone…” he adds with a conspiratorial wink, seeing from the involuntary bounce of your leg how much you wish to join in. 

He cannot help the smile that engulfs his face as you jump to your feet with a mischievous giggle. Nor can he help deliberately aiming badly, letting you roundly defeat him at target practice, basking in the victorious glint in your eye as you tease him gently for losing. 

He also pretends not to notice his mother watching from a high window, her expression riveted and so very telling.

—

Later that day, you are reading quietly with Eloise when Violet sweeps into the drawing room with her lady's maid. 

“Y/n, Sir Denton is here to see you,” she smiles brightly. 

“Oh, I…” you stutter, sitting upright, surprised.

“I can send him away, Miss?”  The maid offers, intuiting your disquiet.

“No, no, it is fine… I am just surprised, that is all. ‘Tis almost 4pm. I was not expecting that anyone would be calling, given the late hour.”

Benedict suddenly materialises in the doorway. As ever, there’s that trademark flutter in your chest.

“Any reason Denton is lingering in the hallway?” he inquires airily, grabbing a teacup and pouring himself some.

“He is here for y/n,” Violet breezes as his eyes cut to you, a wave of irritation seeming to cloud his face.

“Well, we should dismiss him,” Benedict sniffs, pausing in his action, his face souring.

“Why?” Violet frowns.

“I had a chance to look into his past since I acquiesced to his dance with y/n last night…”

“Acquiesced?!” Violet scoffs, but Benedict ignores her interjection, save for a curt eyebrow raise.

“I have subsequently discovered he has vastly overstated his assets,” Benedict bristles imperiously.

“Who woke up and made you Anthony?” Eloise pipes up witheringly.

Benedict shoots her a look of irritation. “Anthony has deputised me to run family matters while he is away on business this week, sister,” he reminds pointedly.

“Yes, but you did not have to adopt his personality as well,” Eloise shoots back, disgust evident on her face.

“I take finding y/n here, a suitable match, seriously,” he volleys. “Do you wish to see your good friend married to someone unworthy of her?”

“Well, no…”

“Then kindly permit me to handle matters,” Benedict orders with finality, uncharacteristically forthright in his opinions.

“I do not wish to see her married at all…” Eloise mutters under her breath as he stalks away to dispatch Denton before anyone can argue.

You just sit there mildly dumbfounded, unsure what to make of it all. 

—

The following evening, you are attending a music recital with the Bridgertons; Benedict is notably absent, which makes you a touch melancholic in a way you don’t want to dwell on. 

However, the evening turns for the better while you are taking refreshments at the interval. A friendly-faced young man strikes up a conversation with you after an introduction from Violet.

“Are you enjoying the music tonight, Miss y/l/n?” he asks genially.

“It is very nice, Lord Glassborough,” you offer politely, trying to stifle your slight boredom. You enjoy music, but a two-hour concert is a little too much for you. You much prefer a short set of songs as they play at balls.

“I find it rather dull myself,” he opines quietly, leaning in. “I much prefer a lively song one may dance to.”

You know your face is a picture of surprise that his opinion is an exact mirror of your own.

“Have I offended you so?” he checks, looking mildly contrite.

“Not at all, my lord. I was actually just thinking the same myself,” you chuckle quietly.

He looks inordinately pleased and breaks into a friendly, toothy grin. He seems like a nice, agreeable sort. A pleasant, if not particularly handsome, face. Over his shoulder, you see Violet looking inordinately pleased you appear to be getting on so well.

—

“I am not sure I can do this...” you sigh as Ms West genially taps the metronome.

“You can, dear; just remember your finger placement,” she encourages as your fingers fall to the cool ivory keys.

And so you begin again. Attempting to master this tricky piece, your eyes tracing the lines of music as you play the pianoforte. Violet is so keen for you to brush up on your skills, given Lord Glassborough’s interest in you yesterday. You could not find an adequate excuse fast enough, and so here you are, in a slightly reluctant music lesson, trying your best to recall how Mrs Parsons taught you to play a few years ago.

“Men do so appreciate a lady who can entertain them with exquisite music,” Ms West nods approvingly as you play.

Mostly, you are relieved when you make it to the end with no mistakes, at least none glaringly obvious.

“I much prefer to sing…” you admit tacitly as Ms West shuffles the sheet music.

She looks at you surprised, then shoos you from the piano stool. “Sing for me then, my dear…” taking a seat and beginning the opening bars to a song that, fortunately, you know well.

You begin to sing along, growing more confident with every note, allowing yourself to get lost in the words, the story of a lady awaiting her true love.

“Exceptional!” she peals delightedly over the sound, and you feel bolstered to continue, her playing the perfect accompaniment.

—

Benedict stops short as soon as he enters the house. The most lilting, beautiful sound echoing gently down the marble hall.

“Who is that Jenkins?” he asks of the butler who takes his coat.

“I believe it is Miss y/l/n, sir.”

He draws inexorably closer, finding himself watching you through the crack in the doorway, listening to you sing a touching tale of love that sounds so hauntingly hypnotic in your mellifluous tones. Your eyes are closed, and you sway to the melody, lost in reverie, in the narrative you weave.

The piano stops abruptly.

“Can we help you, sir?” an elder lady calls crisply.

Benedict realises the door has crept open slightly before him, enough for him to be seen by your music teacher. He watches as you swing around and look horrified that you may have an audience. It makes him take a resolute step forward into the room.

“Do you need us to desist? Is it perhaps too loud?” the lady checks deferentially, likely assuming him to be the head of the household.

“No!” His reply is a touch too forceful. “Please continue,” he modifies. “I was merely drawn by the splendid sound I heard. I am not sure I have ever heard such a wondrous voice,” he adds, keeping his gaze steadfastly upon the lady, not able to look you in the eye as he confesses as such. 

—

You are mortified when you realise Benedict heard you singing; you have always managed to keep it private, until now at least. But now your heart is suddenly pounding at his extolling words.

“She does indeed have a most excellent voice,” Ms West concurs with his sentiment, looking at you expectantly as Benedict walks further into the room, his face with the same hopeful expression.

“I am not sure I can…” you stumble, nervous for an audience, most especially him;  his is the opinion that would matter to you the most—you would be crestfallen should he not like it.

“Sing more for me, please, Skylark?” His ask is gentle, beseeching as if it were just the two of you alone.

“Skylark?” Ms West sounds enchanted.

“My childhood nickname for Miss y/l/n,” Benedict explains as he takes a seat. 

“Skylarks have a wonderful song,” she sighs wistfully.

“Indeed,” Benedict chimes, his eyes still upon you. “I never knew how appropriate it was until this very moment.”

Something warm cracks in your chest at his sweet words, making you courageous. At least enough to nod when Ms West looks to you again from the piano. And so you restart the song for your special audience, heart in your mouth. The words coming easily to you, an extra layer of meaning he will never know as you sing words of unrequited devotion, looking to him in your braver moments. His face is enrapt, leaning forward, his eyes soft and expressive. 

As you reach a high note at the end of the song, holding it, Benedict bursts into applause, jumping up from his seat and taking you by surprise, grabbing your gloved hands in his.

“You should always be singing Skylark…” he pronounces. “Truly beautiful. Please promise me, no matter what happens, that you will always, always sing…” 

You duck your head briefly, unsure how to deal with his effusive praise. Ms West’s face is a picture as you stand there, your hands still trapped in his, feeling a tingle where the warmth of his skin seeps through the layers to yours.

“I-I-I promise,” you reply meekly, a touch dazed as you raise your eyes again to meet his, the intensity making your lungs restrict.

“Thank you.” 

Two words have never sounded so sincere or loaded with significance. 

III: … And I Do.

A few days later, it is the Trowbridge Ball, a decadent affair that is usually the most talked about of the season, apparently. You share a carriage ride there with Benedict and Eloise, trying your best not to stare at him—so handsomely dressed in a white cravat and black velvet cropped jacket that clings to his tapered shape. But mostly, you fail. Your skin flushes hot the more you look at him. You could swear that his gaze strays to you, too, subtly sweeping the fine teal silk Madam Delacroix has expertly tailored for you.

“You look beautiful this evening, ladies,” he offers politely to both you and Eloise.

“What do you want?” Eloise cuts across your reply, narrowing her eyes at her older brother, instantly suspicious of his flattery.

“Can I not compliment without an ulterior motive?” he frowns, their usual sibling dynamic emerging.

“Not usually,” Eloise sniffs, with another suspicious glance, before looking out the carriage window.

You take the opportunity to mumble your thanks to him. His responding smile warms your entire being, his hazy eyes lingering in a way that makes your skin prickle. And when he offers a chivalrous hand to assist you down from the carriage, you could swear his hand lingers upon yours a few seconds longer than is necessary. 

Around an hour later, as you go to partake in a refreshment, a sneering Lady Cowper utters something cruel under her breath as you pass, her sour-looking daughter smirking beside her. You do not hear all of the words, but you do not need to. One sideways glance tells you all that you need to know. It seems so unnecessarily cruel, never having even exchanged so much as a word with you, but even as you feel a lump in your throat, their attention is already elsewhere.

“Ah! Mr Briddgerton,” her entire demeanour changing to oleaginous charm, “my daughter looks particularly stunning tonight, does she not? I do believe you should secure a place upon her dance card before there are none left!” 

You watch Benedict blanch at the very words.

“I do not dance, Lady Cowper, but I bid you ladies a good evening,” he responds, polite but firm.

You try your hardest not to giggle at the disdained look on their faces as he sweeps past them, and you feel light as air as, instead, he draws up to you and winks.

“That woman does not realise she is doing her daughter’s prospects more harm than good with her brashness,” he comments dryly as he grabs a glass of champagne from the stand next to you.

“I am not so sure the daughter would do much better without her; she seems perpetually furious about her own hairstyle,” you opine sardonically, making Benedict snort loudly into his champagne glass. A lightness fizzles in your being as he shoots you a look of unmistakable admiration for that remark.

“I daresay you are a much better dancer than her,” he contends, not breaking eye contact, placing aside his drink before leaning in and continuing in a hushed voice. “Perhaps you would do me the honour of a dance, Skylark, to confirm my suspicion?”

There is a vault in your chest as he employs your private nickname in public and, not only that, is offering you a dance when, just a moment ago, he declared publicly that he would not. 

You can only nod, heart hammering, as he breaks out into the most handsome smile, offering you his arm and leading you to the centre of the room as you hear a ripple go through the nearby crowd. Apparently the sight of one Benedict Bridgerton taking to the dancefloor is a rare occasion indeed.

—

As he takes your gloved hand in his and curls an arm around your shoulder, he realises this was perhaps a mistake. An impromptu offer, the hollow thrill of petty revenge for the insult he observed the Cowpers sling at you. But now he realises it has rather backfired upon him.

He cares not a jot for the gossiping, people nodding and pointing to you both as you begin to dance. No, the problem is much more concerning than that. 

It is how discombobulated he feels having you in his arms.

How your body seems to fit and move perfectly with his. How, when you dare to look up at him, his mouth goes a little dry. He has never truly noticed how striking your eyes are until seeing them this close. Indeed, the evident beauty of your face, the way you seem to glow from within, more tonight than ever. It makes his chest - and somewhere else on his body - feel entirely too tight.

—

Nothing could have prepared you for this.

The feeling of literally being swept off your feet. With Benedict's handsome face smiling down upon you as you seem to float around the dancefloor. 

Surely, this is what dreams are made of?

You know it is a flight of fancy, but it seems as though the floor beneath your feet is a shower of diamonds rather than candlelight refracted through chandeliers. The warmth and strength of Benedict’s embrace caged around you, respectful but so close it makes your lungs feel too small to gasp the air you need to keep moving. But you never want to stop. A whirlwind of sensation as you twirl, carried away by the music, the man, the moment.

“Thank you, Benedict,” you breathe, knowing you are likely looking up at him far too adoringly but unable to mask it, a burning need for him to know how grateful you are for this dance, not even noting your over-familial use of his first name at a society event. 

His eyes flash and you could swear they dilate a fraction before you must turn your back to him, following the steps.

“I was right,” he rumbles cryptically from behind you now, his large hands wrapped around yours as you hold them aloft together, following the moves of the dance. “It is indeed an honour to dance with you.” 

Your belly flares as you turn in unison and realise that you are now dancing right in front of Cressida, her expression murderous. It makes you bolder than you have ever been, tilting your head sideways a fraction so your cheek almost brushes Benedict’s, fuelled by the envy you feel seething from within her.

You could swear he sighs ‘Skylark’ as his hot breath tickles your ear, your chest pounding, a flavour in the air you can taste, a powerful stirring low in your belly.

—

Benedict knows this is a dangerous path and yet is powerless to do anything but walk it. Breathing your nickname into your hair as he inhales your scent, heightened by the movement of your dancing. A light, sweet floral perfume but underneath the smell of you, familiar from many years of friendship but altered now, more decadent, an undercurrent of tart berries that thrills and stirs deep within him. Even while knowing his ever-vigilant mother is watching, an inscrutable expression upon her face. 

He is almost grateful when the music ends before he does something foolish. But then you are staring up into his face, all doe-eyed expectant beauty and his tongue feels unexpectedly tied. He is almost grateful when an interrupting hand wraps around his shoulder.  

—

You watch Will Mondrich whisper in Benedict’s ear, and before you know it, he is offering apologies to you with a shallow, polite bow before hurrying away. Coming back to reality with a bump, you drift awkwardly from the dance floor, feeling judgy eyes upon you, suddenly flooded with concern your behaviour was entirely too wanton. 

Before your thoughts can spiral too far, however, someone materialises at your side.

“I do so hope your dance card is not full tonight, Miss y/l/n,” a newly-familiar, chipper voice cut in.

“Lord Glassborough,” you breathe; your relief at seeing his cordial face is palpable. “I am available to dance right now,” you smile politely, taking his proffered arm and letting him lead you back out to the spot you and Benedict had just vacated.

As the music begins and you move together, the difference is… noticeable. Gone is the frisson over your limbs, that excitement as if your skin could vibrate off your bones. Instead you feel comforted, almost a brotherly presence as he leads you in the dance. He is technically proficient, but it feels lacking—that tension, that heat burning in the space between you. It makes you yearn for Benedict even though he was just with you. It makes your stomach settle with a leaden weight you realise you will have to settle for less than what you truly desire.

Still distracted by your mental comparison, you absently acquiesce to his suggestion to take some air upon the terrace as the dance ends. You sense Violet, ever the vigilant chaperone, follow as he leads you into the cooler air outside. 

“Miss y/l/n…,” Lord Glassborough begins cautiously. You sense a nervousness in his being, pulling your full focus to him. “I think us most compatible, would you not agree?”

“We make most excellent friends, indeed, Lord Glassborough,” you hedge, not wanting to appear overzealous.

“And friendship is the most appropriate foundation to build something more… tender,” he argues with a smile. “I do believe I could offer you a most agreeable life.” 

There is a strange twinge in your chest as suddenly, you realise what this is. The moment everyone, except perhaps yourself, has been awaiting all season.

“I would be honoured if you would consent to be my wife, Miss y/l/n,” he humbly offers a sincere kindness shining in his eyes.

And there it is. An offer of marriage from a perfectly nice, respectable gentleman done in an appropriate manner. 

To one side, you see Violet clutch a hand over her chest, face delighted, even as you form fists within your delicate gloves, wishing this moment were not happening so soon after a truly breathtaking dance with the man of your dreams. Who is not the same man as the one before you, nervously shuffling from foot to foot, awaiting your reply. 

“I am honoured, Lord Glassborough,” you answer cautiously, bowing your head demurely. “This is a big decision to make. Please allow me time to give you my proper, considered answer?”

“Of course,” he bows chivalrously, his accommodating nature making this moment all the more bittersweet. He is indeed a lovely man. 

He is just not the one you want with every fibre of your being.

—

That night, you cannot sleep. Knowing you have the most significant decision of your life to make. So, in the small hours, you find yourself drifting to the deserted kitchen of Bridgerton House to do what you do best when you need to think calmly—baking. 

An activity you have grown up doing with Mrs Parsons. Many hours spent happily with flour dusting your hands, sun streaming into her grand but homely kitchen. A perhaps slightly maverick pastime for a lady of her social standing, with staff to do such things for her should she wish it, but so very enjoyable nonetheless. 

Throwing a large, heavy baking apron over your nightdress and robe, you potter around, the flagstone of the basement floor cold underfoot, a grounding feeling that stops your mind from racing too much.

You have no idea how to respond to Glassborough’s proposal. On one hand, he is a seemingly nice man, certainly of a good family. You are sure he would be a perfectly acceptable husband, unlikely to be mean or untoward. It is just… a nagging voice is telling you to turn him down despite him being an imminently sensible choice, your heart wanting, well, the impossible. A man that excites you, not just a safe, practical option.

You are onto your second batch of lemon and rosemary biscuits when a voice makes you jump out of your skin.

“What on earth…?”

There in the doorway is Benedict, looking confounded to find you here. The very man who makes your heart skip, always. He is dressed the most casually you have ever seen him— also barefoot, in a white frilled shirt and dark trousers, brocade braces slung around his hips. You swear you may have to grab the bench before you to stay upright.

“Y/n! We have cooks you can call upon at any time should you need food!” he fusses, instantly concerned, moving to ring a bell on the wall.

“No! Please do not!” You exclaim, rushing to stop him, grabbing his sleeve in your haste. “I-I enjoy baking. It is relaxing; it helps me to think.”

His brow knits and his eyes flick down to your hold on his sleeve, a warm vein pulsing under your fingertips. You snatch your hand away quickly, a blush staining your cheeks, mumbling an apology as you scurry back to your biscuit-making.

“Alright,” he concedes slowly, still appearing confused. “When I saw the sconces lit from the rear stairwell, I assumed one of the staff was still down here.”

You find it bemusing that he seems at pains to justify why he might also be in the kitchen, especially to you, a guest. This is Bridgerton House, and he is a Bridgerton. He may go wherever he pleases, surely? And yet here he is, doing so.

“I was rather hoping for some hot cocoa,” he explains with that soft, crooked smile that always makes your heart flutter.

“Oh! Well, umm, I could make you some cocoa?” you look down, wiping your hands upon your apron and moving to do so.

—

That you would make such an offer, as if seeing yourself as unpaid help, spurs him into action.

“No, you certainly will not!”  He decries, moving swiftly towards the larder before you can. “I am perfectly fine with some cold milk,” he assures, re-emerges with a bottle and pouring himself a glass, leaning back against the sink to take a sip.

Despite the lateness of the hour, he finds your heretofore secret pastime strangely fascinating. A lady who bakes. By choice. So he watches as you return to making your biscuit dough, entertained as you begin to beat the mixture quite furiously with a wooden spatula.

“Have those ingredients caused you some sort of personal offence….?” he jests lightly, nodding to the bowl.

He observes a flit of contrition across your face before you answer.

“I, umm, have a decision that I must make; baking helps me think,” you explain vaguely, then appear to rapidly change the subject. “I am, however, sure of one fact - some biscuits are a must to accompany milk. There is a completed batch over there.”

“Genius,” he opines with a wink, enthusiastically moving to grab one from the cooling rack you signalled to, delighting in the blush that darkens your cheeks. But he decides to push the topic you abruptly avoided. Concerned there could be a topic you are genuinely wrestling with. If his opinion on the matter can ameliorate your burdens, he would be most honoured to assist.

“What sort of decision must you make?” he inquires before temporarily losing the power of speech. There is an explosion of tart lemon and earthy herb on his tongue that melts into a buttery sweetness, utterly divine. “Lord alive, these are delicious!!!” he exclaims around the mouthful.

“Thank you,” you answer softly. 

You are always so modest about your talents; it sometimes makes him want to grab your shoulders and shake you gently. To make you see what he does. 

“To answer your question, it is a perplexing matter that needs serious consideration,” you explain, stopping short of detail. It appears you are not yet ready to share the news with him. Something about that makes him a touch sad, but he also does not want to pry if you are reluctant to divulge. 

—

Benedict swallows the bite he has taken, and you find yourself staring at the movement of his throat as he does. Knowing one thing to be true—if it were his proposal, you would not even hesitate for a split second. That wistful thought makes you suddenly melancholic, and you sigh, pushing aside your mixing bowl, realising this may be an issue baking will not fix.

“I do so hate to see you doubt yourself, Skylark,” he offers quietly after a beat, mien so earnest. “Trust yourself. You will find the right answer for your dilemma; I am certain of it.”

He is so remarkably supportive that, ironically, you almost want to scream at him.

“I should leave you to your thoughts,” his tone is gentle, reluctant.

“Please, there is no need, Benedict,” you try to assure. “To be honest, in all of this world, yours is the company I enjoy the very most…”

That truth is out of your mouth before you can censor it. 

You sheepishly glance over to be met by a surprised look on his face. He takes a few steps towards you, probably without realising it, and suddenly, he is very close, faint wisps of his woodsy, citrus cologne tickling your nose.

“And I, yours, Skylark…” he rumbles, his gaze falling to your lips. 

Time seems to stop, and you feel pinned under glass, staring up into his handsome face as he breathes slightly ragged, your body rioting as he engulfs your senses, definitely too close to be considered gentlemanly, polite…

…But then, he takes a sharp inhale and steps back as if coming to his senses. He turns heel with a hastily muttered goodbye, and before you know it, he is gone. Leaving you bewildered, your thoughts scattered.

—

The following day, Benedict is idly reading the paper, partaking in a leisurely lunch of tea and cake, when his mother swans in, reeling off a set of instructions for her lady's maid.

“Oh, and lastly, do not forget, we should secure an appointment with the modiste, in case Miss y/l/n should know her answer today…” Violet concludes breezily as she takes a seat.

“Yet another ball we must suffer, mother?” Benedict drawls drily, folding down his paper and taking a hearty bite of zesty lemon drizzle.

She shoots her son an exasperated look before neatly smoothing a serviette into her lap as she is served her usual afternoon Earl Grey by the butler. “Miss y/l/n will be in need of a wedding dress, Benedict, dear.”

He spits an array of crumbs onto his newspaper, coughing in shock. “She will need what?!?” he wheezes, barely recovering.

“Lord Glassborough proposed to Miss y/l/n last night, my dear, at the ball. She has yet to give her answer, but I am certain she will. They are a fine match,” Violet declares, taking a sip of tea.

“Why did she not mention it to me?” he mutters, more to himself than anyone, his forehead creasing heavily in a frown as he swallows the rest of his mouthful.

“Why would she have?”  

“We talked last night…” letting slip perhaps too much in his perplexed state, lost in his own tumbling thoughts.

“When last night? We returned from the ball very late,” a suspicious tone in his mother’s voice, belatedly releasing he should know better than to think aloud; she is sharp as a tack.

“I-I found Miss y/l/n baking last night… in the kitchen when I went for cocoa… she told me she had a dilemma she was wrestling with…” he admits, looking down at the paper, the words now a jumble before his eyes. “Mother do you think it is possible she will say yes??” Benedict's head snaps up, his heart suddenly pounding in his ears.

“She would be a fool not to,” Violet points out, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow at him. “Unless there was another, perhaps more wanted, proposal she could consider. Do you possibly know of one? Son?” 

Even he can read between those lines. 

“I-I am late,” he abruptly changes tack. “I promised to meet Anthony today to discuss the soil at Aubrey,” he bustles rapidly, standing and fleeing the room before he can allow his mother to see how much of a complete lie that is.

—

Benedict spends the afternoon at White’s, downing perhaps one too many whiskeys as he grills his fellow patrons upon the Glassborough family. Looking for any reason he can find to object to the betrothal while steadfastly refusing to examine why he feels so passionately about the subject. He also spends time checking the hefty tomes of Debrett’s the club holds.

He returns to Bridgerton House just as dusk settles in, the sky streaking red and pink as he enters.

“Where have you been, dear?” Violet asks as he rounds into the parlour.

“Researching,” he gruffs economically.

“What? Or rather whom?” Violet inquires, revealing she already has a firm idea of what she asks.

“I can find nothing wrong with him!”

Benedict paces, an energy emanating from his being as if he is rattled by that very fact.

“That is a good thing, is it not, son?” Violet reminds pointedly. “We want y/n married to a good gentleman…”

Benedict shoots her an exasperated look but relents. “I suppose…”

“Is not your reluctance perhaps for another reason, my dear?” Her question is gentle, if not particularly subtle.

He slumps into a wingback chair with a defeated sigh. “Go ahead. Say your piece, mother.”

“I have watched you, darling,” she begins gently, watching him tip his head back and screw his eyes shut. “I do not know exactly when, but your regard of Miss y/l/n has altered, and I am not the only one to observe it.”

Benedict's eyes fly open, and he tips his head down with a frown as his mother continues.

“Even Colin has marked a change in you. If you feel anything, my dear, then Miss y/l/n has the right to know. Before it is too late. The right to make an informed choice if you are bold enough to give her one. Son, I have only ever wanted my children’s happiness. And if your happiness lies somewhere that perhaps even you have not realised until now…. well then I encourage you to follow it. Follow your heart.”

Her impassioned speech suddenly makes the pieces of a jumbled jigsaw before his eyes arrange into a pattern, a way forward that is suddenly clear and sharply in focus.

It makes him leap to his feet, an urgency thronging in his being.

“Where is Miss y/l/n?” he almost barks. 

“I do not know,” Violet confesses, “but I do know she has not yet seen or written to Lord Glassborough,” she adds.

“Good…” he rasps, headed determined out of the room to find you.

—

The verdant lush grass is cool between your toes as you curl them over, sighing heavily, the night now dark, a twinkle of silver among the navy sky, soon to be black. The swing under the big oak, a refuge you have sought many times since staying at Bridgerton House, feels a particularly poignant place to be tonight as an internal war rages within you, your decision swaying back and forth as much as the wooden seat you are perched upon, the rope digging into your cheekbone as you slump against it, flummoxed.

You know what your answer to Glassborough should be. Indeed, what it should have been from the moment he asked. 

A resounding yes.

In every practical measure, this is the best possible outcome of your London season. A proposal from a thoroughly decent, acceptable gentleman, way above the station you were expecting, given your less than prestigious certainty of lineage.

And yet.

And yet.

There is a large part of you, your heart, that wants to turn down the proposal, foolhardy as that may be. Wanting to feel akin to what you felt as you danced with Benedict last night. You are not so foolish as to believe he would ever propose, but perhaps there is someone else out there for you that may evoke something similar for you? Even if only half, it would be enough. Enough for you to build a future around and feel contentment in your heart, to not just settle for what your head knows to be a sensible choice. 

—

Having searched the house, he rounds into the garden and stops short, heart leaping into his throat as he spies you, swaying gently upon the swing, looking thoroughly lost in thought. It makes his chest ache that you are so melancholic about a decision that should indeed be joyous. The selfish part of him celebrating, hoping that perhaps you are not. His memory recalls with perfect clarity how you have looked as lost as he now feels every time you have been close. The unbearable lightness of hope seizes his legs and draws him inexorably closer.

—

You whip around as you sense company and have to take a deep breath as your eyes fall upon Benedict. His face pinched with a restless intensity.

“I was hoping I would find you,” he exhales.

“You have,” you shrug, still confused by his crackling energy, him seeming in a rush to say something.

“Skylark, you deserve the very best of everything. Sincerely. And part of that includes that you should know the truth in the hearts of those lucky enough to know you…” a slight quake in his voice as he takes a step closer.

“Alright…” you respond cautiously, your brow creasing as you sense the nerves emanating from him.

You gasp as he rapidly drops to one knee before you, a hand clutched to his chest. 

“I have been a fool to not see it before now. My own ardent admiration for you, for your talents, for your beauty. I realise now, perhaps too late, that you are truly the most wondrous, precious being in this world. You may not always see it, but it would be my greatest honour to show you, every day, if you will permit me, what I see when I look upon you. What I have always seen if I am honest with myself. A light that shines brighter than any other, a bird that soars higher and sings more sweetly than any other. A soul that it would be a privilege to be bound to. I know it is perhaps the worst possible timing, seeing as you already have a proposal from a perfectly acceptable gentleman. Still, I could not let you get married without letting you know the contents of my heart.”

You are stunned. Speechless. 

Your heart pounds in your ribcage as you sit there stupified for what must be an age, Benedict looking upon you expectantly, breath slightly ragged from his long speech. Somehow, convincing yourself this could only be a dream. That the man you have adored since before you can remember has just made the most beautiful poetic confession of love you have ever heard. And it’s to you.

So, you do the only logical thing that comes to mind. Pinch your own leg. Hard.

—

Benedict is momentarily confounded at your actions.

“Owwww!” you yelp. “Not dreaming then…” is your muttered follow-up, rubbing your own knee as his face morphs into the most enormous grin, a lightning bolt of joy tearing through him as he realises what you are doing, that you can scarcely believe this is happening any more than he can.

“It is really me, Skylark,” he chuckles softly, seeing the way your eyes dilate rapidly as he can't help the lopsided grin that claims his face, a warmth behind his ribs that is just for you.

“I realise that now,” you sass back, and there is a stirring in his trousers at the tone you employ.

“I love you.” 

It's a reflex; he doesn't even realise he says it. But as soon as it's out of his mouth, it's like an invisible burden has been lifted from his entire being. The truth. Plain. Simple. Honest.

—

You know your face is aflame as you snap back at him, entirely without meaning to, but then he says three little words that tilt your whole world even more. 

“I-I-I love you too.”

You are bewildered when you say it aloud. 

 The truth. Plain. Simple. Honest.

“Marry me? Please. My darling, wonderful friend,” he implores, his bare hands grabbing yours, tingles shooting over you as your skin touches his.

“Yes!! I will!!!” you answer breathlessly, not even a second of hesitation. 

He leans in and captures your lips with his. They are warm and soft as they move gently with yours. And when he opens your mouth with his and his tongue rolls delicately over yours, it feels as if all the fireworks you have seen in the sky live now inside you, popping and exploding in a riot of colour. A whole new world of sensual pleasure is promised in that one move.

“Are you certain?” you murmur as you break apart for air, a flash of insecurity that this is happening so fast, even as there is a strong pull inside, a want to keep kissing him over and over.

He smiles, tilting his forehead to yours, a wistful look in his blue eyes.

“To know you, truly know you, is to love you, Skylark,” he sighs, his words a blanket settling over your quaking heart.  “And I do. I truly do.”

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @notanotheruniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @sya-skies

[jeonsworld]

DINNER | jjk

masterlist

summary: dinner with jungkook turns into something else…

pairings: husband!jk x fem!reader, established relationship

genre: smut

word count: 1.1k

warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, pet names (baby, sweetheart), neck kisses, fingering, spit kink, kissing, making out, tongue sucking (once), swearing, p in v, bigdick!jk, softdom!jk, unprotected sex (don’t be stupid), orgasms, cream pie, lmk if i missed any!

notes: requested by anonie, hope you like it! - har

the music was turned up way too loud.

you glanced back at jungkook from the sofa. his back was turned away from you.

he was in the kitchen cooking dinner.

you'd managed to tolerate the extremely loud music for a while now, but this was it. you'd had enough.

"kook!”

you shouted and as expected, he didn't hear you.

you didn’t bother trying again because the result would be the same.

you got up from the sofa and quickly walked into the kitchen.

you turned the music on the speaker down.

he noticed and immediately turned around,

"what are you doing?"

you pointed to the speaker,

"it's too loud."

he shook his head and reached over to the speaker to turn the music back up.

"no sweetheart."

"kook no..."

“shh.”

he said and kissed quickly you.

you turn the music back down again and jungkook groaned and then smiled.

he reached over to the speaker again but you pushed his hand away.

“baby.”

he tried to reach over again but you stopped him.

“stop it.”

“you stop it. it’s too loud.”

he rolled his eyes and focused his attention back to whatever it was that he was cooking.

"why don't you dance to it?"

he suggested, looking at you and smirking before turning back to the stove.

"you might actually enjoy it then."

you shake your head,

“i’ll enjoy it when it’s at an acceptable volume.”

he wrapped his strong arms around you.

"why are you not dancing?"

he asked you sighed,

"because.”

he waited for an answer,

“because…”

“because i don't want to."

you groaned and he rested his chin on your shoulder.

"i just wanna relax."

you continued and he kissed your neck,

"dance baby, c'mon."

he released you from his grip and turned back to the stove.

you try to change the subject,

"make sure you don't burn that."

you point at the sauce that's in the pan.

"wanna try some?"

he asked, raising his eyebrow.

you folded your arms,

"only if it's good."

you said and he grinned,

"i'm making it so of course it's good."

you rolled your eyes and he opened the cutlery drawer next to him and took out a small spoon.

he dipped the teaspoon into whatever sauce he was making and held it in front of your mouth.

"open."

he said and you were about to put the spoon into your mouth but it was replaced with his spit.

you looked up at him unamused,

"wow."

he smirked,

"like it?"

you rolled your eyes and he chuckled.

"baby, go and dance."

you slowly rolled your hips against him,

“like this?”

he smiled,

"baby, stop.”

he nudged you,

“why don’t you want to dance?"

you tilt your head,

"i do... but just maybe horizontally in bed."

he snorted, feeling your hands wandering in between his thighs,

"babyyy,”

he groaned,

"if you do that then this will end up burnt."

he warned pointing at the stove but your hand continued to press against the growing bulge in his pants.

he closed his eyes and leaned his head back,

“stop.”

he whined and you narrowed your eyes,

"fine... your loss."

you smiled and walked away.

except you didn't actually walk away because he grabbed your arm and pulled you back into him.

"change of heart?"

you ask and he tried not to laugh.

"5 minutes. okay?"

he told you and you nodded.

he switched the stove off and put his hands under your thighs and picked you up, putting you onto the counter.

"what? here?"

you asked and he nodded,

"yes baby, can't wait any longer."

he kissed you slowly then pulled back,

"you tease me too much, you know that?"

he said and you laughed.

he spread your legs and dipped his right hand between your legs.

he took one finger and plunged it into your heat.

he slid it in and out of you a few times before adding a second finger, pumping them at a quicker pace.

even though the speed was still quite slow.

“kook enough,”

you looked at him and he knew what you wanted.

he smirked and removed his now wet fingers.

he tasted you, sucking them clean, which made you even more aroused and positioned himself between you.

you wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face into him.

it didn't take long for him to slip inside you.

it was easy for him since you were literally dripping with your arousal.

he groaned when he sank his thick length into your wetness.

"fuckkk."

he whispered and started rocking his hips forwards and backwards into you, which resulted in wet sounds with each thrust.

"baby, i'm not gonna last long."

he groaned,

"yeah, me too."

you say, quite breathlessly.

that’s when you though it was a good thing that dinner wasn't going to take long since you would be finished in about 2 seconds.

you started to move your hips in time with his, lifting them slightly so he had better access.

"fucking hell."

he moaned and picked up the pace, pulling you closer into him so he could fuck himself deeper and deeper into you,

"koo..."

you managed to say,

"mhm?"

he moved his lips to your neck and he kissed you, gliding his tongue across it.

"i'm close-"

as soon as you said that, his thrusts became harder, into you with more force, pushing himself to the hilt.

you felt hot, your body went numb, your legs clamped around jungkook’s waist,

“i-“

you didn't manage to finish your sentence, it was too late.

besides, jungkook already knew. your legs tensed up and your eyes rolled back.

you moaned as you released yourself on his pulsing cock.

and that's what sent him over the edge. the feeling of you cumming around him, of how wet you were, your tight walls around him.

he came almost immediately after you did, he emptied himself into you, his warm cum filling your starved pussy.

“shit.”

he moaned, his head tilted back and his movements became sloppy and gradually stopped.

all that was heard was heavy breathing and the faint sound of music on the speakers.

jungkook rested his forehead on your shoulder, trying to catch his breath.

his chest was rising and falling over and over again but his breathing was become slightly less hard each time.

he then kissed up from your chest, to your neck, to your lips.

he moaned softly when you slid your tongue into his mouth.

he sucked on it before breaking the kiss.

he put his face in your neck and chuckled against you.

“we’re gonna be fucking for a lot longer than that tonight.”

and that’s exactly what happened.

THE END

feel free to send me requests!

[nanamis-bigtie]

50 Smutty Fics Ideas

Made this for an event I haven't run in the end, but it'd be a pity to keep them hidden. I hope they'll help your creativity flow!

A and B are hiding together in a tight place, their bodies pressed close. With adrenaline running in their veins, the situation eventually gets out of control.

A and B are dancing what eventually leads to a slow, intimate dance. A gets aroused from B pressing close to them.

A has an obvious crush on B and plans to finally confess. A chickens out and tries to opt out of the situation, but B presses them to speak in a spicy way.

A is tied to an altar as a sacrifice to demon!B. More than taking their life, B is interested in taking their body.

During a visit in a sex shop A spots a weird toy. B suggests purchase as a joke. Little do they know A seriously wants to use it.

A and B are friends with benefits. A's feelings turn out to be genuine, but they don't want to ruin the balance, so they keep it to themself…until they accidentally slip a confession during sex.

A is really into a specific body type/body part and B's body looks as if taken straight out of A's fantasy. A can't hold it anymore and reveals how much B turns them on.

A and B are on a motorcycle trip. The constant movement, vibration and touching is getting them excited.

A walks on B changing. It's the first time they see them naked, and they can't peel their eyes off them.

A survives a near miss. B, worried and scared to death, doesn't want to leave their side since then.

A and B need to share bed due to circumstances. They wake up in each other's arms and it awakens something in them.

A goes down on B. B wears nothing but stockings. At some point A starts tearing them out of the way with their teeth.

A loves B's scent but they keep it secret. One day B catches A masturbating while sniffing a piece of their clothing.

The way A moans "I love you" turns B absolutely feral.

A tries to get B jealous as a part of their flirting game. B snaps way harder then A predicted.

A and B are in a dom-sub relationship. A breaks a rule and B has to again teach them how to be a good sub.

A is less experienced in kink than B. B introduces them to the world of kink with their favorite one.

A gets extra loud during sex so B has to cover their lips. Limited oxygen/fingers in mouth insanely turn A on.

A and B meet for what's not supposed to be a romantic date - but they feel so good around each other, it's suddenly 2am, and they don't really want to part. A proposes B to move the meeting to their place.

A is arguing with B. They truly can't decide whether they want to kill or fuck B more.

That was supposed to be just a make out session, but A kisses so good that B gets impossibly aroused.

A and B are about to face a dangerous situation. They want to enjoy life before it might be too late.

A celebrates a great success with B. Drinks and festive atmosphere quickly turn the matters spicy.

It's A's birthday and they find B tied to bed in nothing but very revealing lingerie.

After a soul-draining break up, A wants to get rid of remaining grief & enter a new path of life with a bang: they contact B, a professional dom.

A and B realize they are being watched during sex. They don't intend to stop.

A is in a middle of meeting when they receive a message B. It's a very explicit nude.

A puts a blade by B's throat, be it seriously or as a joke/teasing. B's reaction is…enthusiastic.

A's hands seriously distract B. Their reactions eventually clue A in: and they decide to use the new knowledge to their favor.

A and B get trapped in one small space and need to wait for emergency. If only there was a way to kill the boredom…

A uses a sexual favor to convince B to do something.

A suffers from pent-up stress and frustration. B offers their body for them to use to get rid of negative emotions.

During soft, vanilla sex A asks B to try something different/rougher.

A shoves B against the wall. Now, once they are so close, A can't stop looking at B's face/lips/body part of choice.

A has lips/tongue/nipples/genitals pierced. B is really curious how does it feel during sex.

A rolls sleeves up/takes shirt off, revealing body hair to B. B has no idea how to act normal around A anymore.

A is usually reserved when it comes to intimacy and emotions. When in public, B does something that breaks A. A pulls B close and whispers to them: "I need you. Now."

A is preparing themself to roll with their day. B walks on them wearing nothing but their shirt.

A tends to neglect their needs. B uses kink as a way of taking care of them.

It's unbearably hot and A switches to wearing short and fine dresses. B finds out they are wearing no underwear underneath.

A has a really big dick/strap, B struggles to take it. A taunts and teases them about it.

Good cock & bad cock routine with dom!A, dom!B and sub!C. A praises C while B degrades and taunts them.

A and B are in a dedicated but open relationship. C grabs their mutual interest.

A loses a bet and now has to do what B tells them.

A, B, C (and maybe more 🤭) running a train on D.

A has a dark/unusual sexual fantasy & they bring it up to their partner, B. B agrees to try it out.

After a longer break A is so needy for sex that they can't enough of B. B is a trembling, ruined mess, but A just keeps going.

A is filthy rich & B is their sugar baby. A pays B a ridiculous amount of money to try a kinky scenario out.

A is a virgin but also very curious about a certain kink. B does their best to let them try it in a safe and satisfying way.

Wedding night between A and B takes an extra spicy turn.

Please, reblog and/or credit, when you use (but don't @ me!). The divider made by @/saradika.

[reredaydreams]

A Pierce through the Heart || Jeon Jungkook

When you go to get your nipple pierced, but something else gets pierced too (it’s a metaphor, if you know what I mean).

Paring: tattoo artist (& piercer) jk x reader

Warning: this story contains mature content, 18+

Content: smut, fluff, oral!f receiving, tit sucking, fingering, doggy style, missionary, squirting, love at first sight?, nipple piercing, unprotected sex, light dirty talk, eating out, after care, edging

Wc: 6k

It was past seven in the evening by the time you entered the tattoo shop, the cool ventilation of the air conditioner giving you relief from the hot summer weather, welcoming your way into the shop. The chilled environment sent tiny shivers down your body, a result of wearing a white tank top, accompanied by a flowy, black skirt with a red lace ribbon tied around your waist as a belt, and a tote bag hanging off your shoulder. All clothes that equipped you for the weather outside.

You glanced around the empty space, it was different from the typical tattoo shop. It felt more artistic than edgy as you would expect from a place like this. Pictures of tattoos done in different colours were hung on the walls accompanied by abstract paintings. Most odd of all, little bonsai trees, a lot of them decorated the brown and white interior alongside the casual furniture expected in a tattoo shop.

“Welcome. I’ll be right there with you in a moment,” an oddly familiar, low, melodious voice made its way to your ears. Turning your gaze to the source, you saw a man wearing a tank top, with washed denim jeans standing with his back to you, doing something on a table further into the shop. He was the only other person here.

Your eyebrows arched up, pupils enlarging as the man turned towards you, his face coming into view, a similar expression masking his face once he glanced upon you.

“Y/n,” a low whisper left his mouth, as he made his way to you, a shine displayed in his eyes. “A, hey! We met at the bar last week, I don’t know if you rem—,”

“I remember, Jungkook?” You cut him off, confirming that the memory of the encounter was still in your thoughts, before taking a pause and uttering his name in a way of looking for confirmation that you recalled correctly. He nodded with a small smile on his lips, having been glad to know you still remembered him.

Oh, you knew it was jungkook, a name of a person who had occupied your brain since the moment you met him last week. His voice still lingering in your ears while his pretty face became a beautiful scenery for your closed eyes.

It was a Friday evening, following a long and hectic week at work when you, along with your best friend, had decided to go to a jazz bar to relax and enjoy the day going into the weekend.

The bar was lit with rich and warm lighting, giving it a cosy environment, accompanied by a local band playing some tunes on the small stage. Some people danced, swaying to the music, letting go of the stresses of the week, while others enjoyed the delicious food and drinks offered at the place.

You and Yeri, your best friend, sat on the high stool tables placed along the border of the bar, as you both sipped away at your drinks, talking about all the random topics that came to mind.

“So basically, he allows them to take his brain cells and send them to space, in the trajectory of the coming aliens, so that they would seek out to capture the spaceship, and we will be closer to the aliens, and learn stuff about them,” you sloppily explain the plot of a recent sci-fi series you have been watching.

“But are a single clump of cells really a human, though?” Yeri asked, taking a sip of her drink. “Right, I don’t think so, but the aliens probably have some technology to rebuild the human, and maybe retain some information,” you tried to make the objective of this move clearer.

“That makes me wonder, though, the concept of having a soul, does it really exist? Or, for the fact where? Is it in your body?” You thought out loud to your friend, swirling the glass of wine in your hand, as your mind delved further on the concept. “I’m not sure, that’s a deep question,” Yeri acknowledged.

“Ya. It’s just that, a ‘soul’ just feels celestial, like the concepts of magic, or a god, rather than something so humanly connected to the body,” you completed your thought, receiving another hum in response, followed by a comfortable silenced engulfing the air around you both, as your minds swam in the ocean of your thoughts.

After a few minutes, Yeri’s voice broke you out of your trance, “wanna go dance, to loosen up a bit?” She suggested. “It’s okay, you go ahead, I’ll rest here for a bit,” you assured her with a small smile.

“Okay! I’ll be back in a while,” Yeri conveyed as she quickly gulped down her glass of alcohol and eagerly made her way to where others were enjoying the music.

You shook your head at your friends' actions, as a small laugh left your mouth. You knew exactly why she wanted to go dance; something or perhaps someone had caught her eyes.

You went back to playing with your glass, as your mind was ready to set forth on a journey of thoughts, but as soon as Yeri set out on her way, a melodious voice cut through the air, making its way to your ears.

“I agree with you. It truly does feel something celestial, something so magical,” the person voiced out their thought turning to lock their eyes with yours, confirming that they were, in fact talking to you. “The ‘soul,’ that is.”

Your breath almost hitched, as your eyes laid upon the man in front of you; god, he was gorgeous. The cute plump lips, where a small smile casted upon them, the bread like cheeks, that looked so soft, and those chocolatey brown eyes that shone as they gaze upon you behind those black, clear glasses, were just so captivating.

His soft wavy hair fell just below his jaw, slight hints of an undercut peeking through, while a few strands of hair strayed to his forehead. Your eyes travelled down his body; he was wearing a black leather jacket, opened to give a glimpse at the white compression shirt underneath that highlighted his muscular body even more. The trails of ink that travelled from beneath his jacket, caressing the skin of his slender hands, and the piercings that marked his body, the ones on his ears, and especially the one that traced under his shirt, just added to his already breathtaking beauty.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. It’s just that the topic you were discussing was so intriguing, I couldn’t help but to overhear,” he said, breaking you out of your trance of gawking at him. A worried smile masked his lips but yet a hopefulness sparked in his eyes.

“Oh, it’s all good. I love having conversations on such topics, and you said you found it intriguing, so, why don’t you tell me more of your thoughts on it?” You assured him invitingly, placing your elbow on the counter, leaning your head into the palm, giving him your undivided attention.

“Well…”

You didn’t know when an hour and half passed, as you got lost in the rhythm of his words, and the ocean of thought as you both bounced off of each other’s questions, travelling through topics, from space to philosophy, sharing your own intellects.

His way of words was so enchanting, continuing the conversation in a way that never let your attention deviate away from him. His presence was comfortable, as if talking to a friend you haven’t seen in a long time. His eyes were calm, making a safe space for you to share your opinions. In this small time you spent with him, you knew one thing for sure, you wanted to keep talking to him.

As you finished a passage to a point he had brought up, you laid your arm out on the table, causally in his direction, resting your head on your biceps, letting a soothing silence engulf the space, while the voices and music blurred in the background.

He took a sip of his drink to hydrate his throat that had become dry from all the talking, as he observed your movements from his peripheral vision. Once settling down his glass, he followed suit, resting his head on his arms on the counter.

You saw his hand gradually travelling to your hand, as his fingers intervened with yours, playing with them gently, caressing them in between. All the while his gaze remained deep into your eyes, displaying unsaid emotions clearly.

You closed your eyes, feeling his soft touches on your skin, his warmth feeling as if you were laying under the sun on a breezy summer day, his perfume adding to the image, as the citrusy, yet fresh smell painted a picture of a serene ocean in your mind with every deep breath you took.

As you were lost in the solace of the moment, another thought struck your mind; you didn’t know the name of this beautiful man in front of you.

“I’m sorry, all the while we were talking, I didn’t even bother asking your name,” you spoke out, opening your eyes to meet those that were still looking at you in the same manner as before. He observed the tiny frown tugging at the corner of your lips. “Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook,” he relayed with a tender smile. “And don’t be sorry, I didn’t have the courtesy to ask the name of such a beautiful woman either,” he conveyed with a small pout.

A small laugh escaped your lips, before you informed him of your name. “Y/n,” he repeated with such familiarity, as if the name was made specifically for his mouth. He parted his lips once more to say something, but was interrupted by Yeri’s voice, making you both sit up straight.

“Y/nie,” she cooed, circling her arms around your shoulders, resting her head against your back. She was drunk. You held on to her arms, worried about your friend, you inquired, “are you okay Yeri? Is everything alright?”

“Hmm, yess, yess, I just wanna go home,” she whined. You were used to this, as you were like the mother of your friend group, always taking care of everyone out of your love for them.

You guided her arms to unwrap around you, standing up, holding on to her arm to keep her steady. You turned to look at Jungkook, who was already gazing at you warmly, admiring the way you took care of your friend.

“I’m sorry, I’ll have to head out now,” you spoke out, your eyebrows creasing in slight displeasure as you still wanted to continue to talk to him. “Oh, it’s alright, but before you go, could I get—,” as jungkook was about to complete his sentence, Yeri began to drag you outside, and all you could do was look back at him with an apologetic expression, as he did his best to assure you with his smile, waving you bye.

You couldn’t help but smile at the memories of that night, and how Yeri kept apologising to you for her behaviour that night, and accidentally preventing you from getting his number. She felt so guilty, even trying to find him for you on social media platforms, but it was no use. However, you guaranteed her that it wasn’t her fault, and maybe that connection you felt with Jungkook that night wasn’t meant to be anything more, but who knew, you would run into him again like this.

You looked up to meet his eyes, that were busy admiring your look, travelling down your body, respectfully of course. You observed that he wasn’t wearing any pair of glasses today.

“I’m sorry, for leaving so abruptly that day,” you said, bringing his attention back to your face. “Oh, no no, I totally understand,” he shook his head to make his point, while a small blush crept on his cheeks, having been caught in the act of checking you out.

“So, how can I help you today?” He questioned, clearing his throat. “Oh, right, I had booked an appointment for a piercing,” you explained.

“Yes yes, you are my last appointment for the day. So, what type of piercing are you planning to get today?” He asked, recalling his schedule.

“A nipple piercing,” you said nonchalantly, tilting your head to the side a bit, as you gazed upon him.

His eyebrows slightly raised, pupils enlarging, as he visibly gulped, a slight red hue appeared on cheeks. He looked so cute with the nervous expression that masked his face, causing a mischievous look to play in your eyes.

“You do those, right?” you playfully inquired, acting as if you weren't fully sure, but you had already confirmed with a person on the phone earlier. “We do. Follow me this way,” he guided, slowly picking up on your teasing.

He led you to a back room, in which there was a tattooing chair situated beside a table with some tools, and a couch on the other side. The space still aligned with the overall warm and brown theme of the shop, while there were once again, small bonsai plants decorating the room.

You walked over to a table that stood beside the couch, adorned with the plant on top, observing it closely while you waited for Jungkook to come back from washing his hands.

“My business partner really loves nature, so he decorated the whole studio with these plants,” Jungkook explained, having seen you looking keenly at the plant while walking in. You hummed in response, turning to meet his eyes, which held eye contact with you for a moment, before turning to the equipment on the table.

“Please, take off your upper garments and lay comfortably on this chair,” he instructed, motioning towards the chair next to the table where he was standing, his eyes still directed towards the tools in his hands.

You began lifting up your tank top ever so slowly to tease him, knowing that he could see you from his peripheral vision. Unhooking your bar, you left it on the couch, along with your tank top. Following his instructions you got into a comfortable position on the chair. He made his way to you, taking a seat on the stool beside the tattooing chair.

“So, you want one piercing on the left side?” he questioned, to confirm once again, looking directly into your eyes. You gave him a small nod, his eyes travelling down to your chest, lingering there for a moment, before meeting your eyes once again.

“Hmm, the nipple needs to be erect when it is pierced, usually we use a clamp, which can be a bit painful, however, I have another method to make it erect,” jungkook informed, maintaining eye contact with you, while a small smirk rested on his lips. “You want to try that, y/n?” He asked, with a till of the head.

“Yes,” a low whisper left your lips, followed by his hand tracing down your neck to your left nipple, his index finger tracing circles around the areola. His face came closer to your chest, his breath fanning your upper boob, lips just inches from touching your skin.

His eyes turned up to meet yours, asking for permission with an arch of the eyebrow. With a small grin you indicate your interest, your hand travelling to the back of his neck, gently wrapping around it as he peeked out his tongue, licking from its bottom to top. He kept circling it around the nipple, licking it in between, causing a small whine to leave your mouth due to his teasing.

He finally latched his lips onto the now already hard nipple, sucking on it enticingly, rolling it around in between his teeth. His one hand went to the other one, gently rubbing it with his thumb. It felt good, low moans leaving your mouth. After a while, he pulled away, a string of saliva connected his lips to your boob.

He grabbed a tissue, cleaning the liquid, before grabbing an alcohol wipe to clean the nipple that was now prominent. He marked it as you had asked, grabbing a sterilized needle, and quickly piercing it, and inserting a small rod with a ball on one side through the hole, connecting another one on the other end.

“There you go, all done,” he declared, putting the supplies back on the table before turning back to you. Your eyes were on him, looking at him with intent and lust, indicating that you wanted something more, just like he did. He brought his face just inches away from yours, looking deep into your eyes, while a small, playful smile rested on his lips.

“Y/n, do you want this?” He questioned. You knew what he was insinuating, it made you a little annoyed that he was asking you such a question when he clearly knew the answer.

Your hand makes its way to his torso, feeling his toned abs hiding under his top, before walking your fingers to his chest, just above his heart. You probed around the area, playing with the piercing that was there for a moment, and then continuing your way to his shoulder. You gently wrapped your fingers around his neck, pulling him in closer as if to kiss him, but instead you glided your lips to his ears, leaving him a bit disappointed.

“I do, but do you?” You whisper into his ear. He snaked his arm around your waist, his grip tight as if he was scared that you would back out. “Oh, you don’t know,” his voice came out in a low whisper, a desperation lacing it. “I have wanted this since I first laid my eyes on you,” and as those words left his mouth, his lips were on your jaw, trailing sloppy kisses along the bone, exploring down to your neck and sucking on it passionately.

He guided your legs to wrap around his waist, picking you up and bringing you to the couch that was in the corner of the room, while being careful of your new piercing. Laying your body on the couch, he backed away from your neck, his hand going the waistband of your skirt, gliding them off your body, along with your panties and discarding them on the floor.

He made his way between your legs, taking a moment to admire your body that just looked so divine to his eyes. He wanted a taste so bad, he just couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He pinned your one arm above your head, going in to suck on your nipple that remained unpierced, while his free hand made its way to your clit, rubbing between the pussy lips in an up and down motion. A sound of satisfaction left your mouth, having gotten him where you needed the most.

He continued to make out with your tit in greed, before trailing warm kisses to your stomach, down to your pelvis. He pulled away, spreading your lips to look at your needy pussy. “So pretty, baby,” he commented, admiring it with a lustful gaze. “So wet for me already,” he teased, going in to devour all of you, causing a whine to leave your mouth.

His tongue rubbed circles around your clit, flicking the nerve in between, before his lips wrapped around it, sucking on it in hunger. He iterated on these motions, sending you into a bliss, and ohh, when he inserted his fingers into you, pumping them in and out, it drove you over the edge as your thighs squirmed around his head riding out the orgasm on his mouth.

He pulled away, sitting on his knees, in between your legs, gazing down at your body in adoration, satisfaction masking his face at the observation of the effects he had on you. Your chest raised up and down assisting the flow of your quick breaths, as you catched a breath after your high, while a tiny layer of sweat coated your forehead.

Your eyes remained fixed on him, as he brought his fingers, covered in your cum, to your lips, sticking his fingers in and exploring your mouth, pushing down on your tongue hitting the back of your throat. You gagged at the motion, sucking his fingers obediently not breaking eye contact. He pulled away and licked the rest up, devouring it clean. A hum of content left his mouth at the delicious taste produced by the both of you, all the while his eyes remained locked with yours, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

He brought his hand to the sides of his tank top, pulling it above his head and discarding them on the floor, along with your clothes. Your eyes now came in view of the Calvin Klein underwear that peeked from under his jeans, and that nipple piercing that had been teasing you for the longest, looked even better on him than you imagined. It was so vulgar, in the best way possible. You bit your lower lip, as the view made your insides feel even more warm.

He quickly followed by removing his lower garments, leaving you with the perfect view of his naked body. God damn— it was so hot and big…

“On your knees, babe,” Jungkook commanded, guiding you to your front with a hand on the hip. “I want to take you from the back,” he expressed, the words sounding so lewd as they came out of his mouth, causing a whimper to leave your mouth as his hand gripped your ass. His chest pressed against your back, as he left kisses on the base of your neck, before tracing his hand along your figure to your ass. He placed a playful slap against it, as your whine made its way to his ears, feeling you press your butt to his crotch. “Getting needy, aren’t we?” he teased, as he delivered another slap.

He’s acting as if he just didn’t eat you out like his life depended on it moments ago, you thought. “Why? Aren't you needy for me too?” you questioned, looking back at him with a pout, giving him the doe eyes. “If you don’t want this, then–” you teased him back, pretending to crawl away, but he didn’t let you as he gripped onto your hip, pulling you against him once more, bringing his face next to yours, over the shoulder. “Hey! You’re not going anywhere,” he groaned into your ear.

His fingers pushed your hair aside from your face, tucking them behind your ear and giving him a clear view of your gorgeous face. “Do you feel that?” he questioned, pressing his erect cock against your pussy, rubbing it against your slit, lubricating with your wetness. “Do you feel how hard it is?” he elaborated, placing a kiss on your jaw. “This is all your fault, you make me like this. You will help me with my problem, right babe?” he asked, giving you a curated pair of puppy eyes, as his lips protruded out, forming a small out pout.

You hum in response, a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth, feeling the effect that you had on him. He trails a string of kisses along your neck, to your shoulder blade, leaving a soft bit mark against it. He guided his cock to align with your entrance, causing a hiss to leave your mouth at the burn of the stretch. “It's okay, darling. You can take it,” he encouraged, rubbing circles on your back in a soothing motion.

It was a tight fit. You hadn’t had such a stretch before, but it felt good, and full. “Is it better? Should I start moving now?” he asked, once his cock was fully nestled within you. You let out low ‘yes’, as he began to glide inside your walls.

At first the movements were more slow, and passionate, but they soon became more intense, aggressive, and lustfull, as his mind clouded with a hunger for you. But that wasn’t enough, you needed him even deeper than he was, causing you to push back onto his cock as he pounded into you. These movements added to the pleasure for both of you, not shying away from vocalising it, and neither did he, as your voices blended together, echoing through the room.

It became too much to handle, and soon enough you released the built up tension in your stomach. The walls of your pussy contracted around his cock, a low, moan of pleasure leaving his lips, sending him to a bliss, causing him to pull out, as you felt a warm, and moist liquid spray against your lower back.

Your legs give out, as you let your body fall on to the couch, trying to catch your breath after your second orgasm of the day. You felt him lay his body against your back, the sounds of his fastened breaths making their way to your ears. Just the feeling of the pulses of your pussy on his cock that pressed against your clit was so arousing to him that it didn’t take him long to become erect once again.

He pushed his body away from yours, pulling you to your front by your waist, gripping on to your thighs, spreading your legs apart, situating himself between your legs once again. “Round two?” he questioned, with an arch of a brow, while a sly grin played on his lips, causing a small laugh to leave your mouth.

He again aligned himself with your entrance, pushing in more easily, as he began moving into you, this time with a sloppish movement. Your hand drawed up his tattooed arm, gliding your way over his collarbone, and onto his piercing. You rubbed it between your fingers, before giving it a pinch, causing a groan to leave his mouth.

“Sensitive here, aren’t we?” you teased, as he gave you a narrowed look, causing a smirk to appear upon your lips. However, it didn’t remain there for long, as you moaned out in pleasure, as he picked up pace, his movements becoming more intense, fervent, and delightful.

You were getting close, close to your release. The in and out motion of his thrusts, his balls slapping against your skin, his cock grazing against the wet and silky walls of your pussy, his fingers rubbing circles on your clit, all these actions combined to serve you pleasure, sending you into ecstasy. Your body didn’t shy away from vocalising this, as the sound of satisfaction left your mouth ringing through the room, travelling to his ears, making him want to keep on hearing more.

The fingers that were on your clit, now glided up your stomach, the patterning of his cold fingertips sending shivers through your figure, yet your body burned from warmth. A faint, dewy trail of your juices was left behind, fading into the skin as his fingers reached your non-pierced tit. He circled his finger around the nipple, before pinching it and then twisting the bud around, causing a cry due to the arousement leaving your mouth, as your body squirmed to the side, though the grope of his hand on your boob prevented you from moving any further, forcing you to recline back to your original place.

“Relax, Babe,” Jungkook encouraged, rubbing patterns on your stomach, pressing on it gently. “I got you,” he cooed, gazing into your half open, dazy eyes, as he lowered the intensity of his thrusts, earning a whine of disapproval from you. However, he ignored it, and continued to deliver delightfull pressure to your pussy through a slow and passionate gliding motion.

Your hair was scattered on the surface of the couch around your head, while a few strands strayed to your forehead and cheek. Jungkook reached his hand forward and moved the pieces of hair away from your face and tucked them behind your ear. His fingers pursue to trace the side of your face, along your jawline, coming to a stop at the corner of your lips. His fingertip caressed your lips, feeling the soft texture, while the movements of his lower body gradually came to a stop, leaving himself buried inside of you.

A whiny cry left your throat at his tactic for getting what he desired. It was simple: you give him what he wants, and you get what you want. He wanted to kiss you, kiss those juicy lips of yours, feeling the softness against his own, while devouring you whole. You wanted him to please you more, to go harder, to let you have your release, and send you into a bliss. You knew that he wasn't going to fulfil your wish until you let him fulfil his need.

Jungkook rubbed his thumb against your lower lip, while his fingers caressed the sides of your cheek. His thumb came to a rest, as he looked into your eyes with burning intensity, asking permission to carry on with what he was thinking. In a swift motion, you pulled on his arm, bringing his face just inches away from yours. You cupped his face in your hands, fingers stretching to the sides of his neck, while your thumb pressed against his cheeks.

“Jungkook,” you whispered in a seductive tone, meeting his eyes with a craving, your breath fanning his skin, “please, fuck me. Fuck me harder.”

Just as those words left your mouth, Jungkook’s lips were locked with yours in a lustful kiss, tongues tangling together in the moist environment. There was hunger behind the kiss, an aggression to feel one another as close as possible.

Jungkook’s hand travelled to the nape of your neck, grabbing a hold of it and pulling you closer, as if you both weren’t already moulded together. Your arms snaked around his neck, pressing your bodies up to one another, as he began to drive into you once again, but this time with a much greater intensity. His speed continued to increase as you moaned into his mouth. He trailed kissing along your jaw and down your neck, leaving marks he will adore later.

“Mhm, you feel so good,” the words flowed out of your mouth in ecstasy, followed by a sting of moans. “Then cum for me, Darling. Show me how good I am making you feel,” he commanded, moving back to admire your disoriented state, in his eyes you were the most gorgeous being he had ever seen.

Soon enough you came, clenching around his cock, as your insides pulsed against his skin. However, he didn’t stop, he continued to pound your pussy, making loud sounds of pleasure leave your mouth. His eyes travelled down your body, to the place where your bodies connected. A few dribbles of squirt rained out of you due to the overstimulation.

“Fuck, you're so beautiful,” he declared, feeling himself close to his climax. With a few more strokes he pulled out, releasing over your stomach, leaving it a mess in his liquid.

He let his body relax, laying half of his body beside you, while the other half rested against you, as he laid his head on your chests, hugging your body close to him. Your arms wrapped around his shoulder, to feel his warmth around you, while you both regained your breathing. You both remained in this position, feeling a sense of calm in each other's presence, after that exhilarating session.

After a few minutes, Jungkook lifted up his body, his arms straight as he rested his palms on either side of your body, caging you within. He gave you a tender smile, before leaning in to kiss your cheek, whispering a ‘I’ll be right back into your ear. You gave him a lazy smile as he pulled out, getting off the couch, and leaving the room.

A while later, he walked back in, having cleaned himself up of the sticky substances. He made his way to where you were laying, and cleaned you up with a wet towel he had brought, before disposing of it.

“Here, put this on,” he said, while handing you a big white shirt. “Your tank top will rub on your piercing, causing irritation, so wear this to prevent it,” he explained. You already knew this information, that’s why you had carried a loose t-shirt in your bag when making your way here, but you didn’t tell him this and just took the piece of clothing from him.

Jungkook moved to collect his discarded clothes from earlier, as your eyes followed his every movement, while you sat up on the couch. He could feel your stares on him, so he made sure to look extra sexy for you, when putting his clothes back on.

Once finished, he moved back towards you, spreading your thighs apart slightly, before intervening his legs in between them. He gently grabbed the shirt from your hands, which you had done no effort to put on, and helped you wear it himself.

Once the fabric was settled on your body, he placed his arms around your neck, leaning in slightly to look into your eyes with an emotion that you couldn’t quite discern. You both remained in silence, just looking into the depths of each other's eyes, before you decided to speak up.

“So,” you began. “Do you give this special treatment to all your customers?” you teasingly inquired, keenly looking forward to his response.

“No,” he said bluntly, looking you dead in the eye. “It’s only for my future special someone,” he informed, as there was a shine in his eyes as the statement left his mouth.

His words left you confused, and a bit shocked, as you didn’t think he would think of this anything more than a hookup after how fast things progressed today.

“Y/n” he called, breaking you away from thinking further. “I want you. I want something more, and I’m not just saying this to get in bed with you again. I truly mean it. After meeting you at the bar last week, I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and the conversation we shared. I want to have more deep talks like that, in the comfort of our own peace,” he explained, expressing his feeling.

You weren’t going to lie, you also held a similar feeling. After that meeting with him, you couldn’t stop thinking about him and the conversation you had with him. He listened to you, sharing his experiences and intellect along the way. You found a calm in his company, at the most odd place. You felt upset all this week at not having gotten his number, and at the possibility of never meeting him again, but seeing him today when you entered the shop gave you hope. A hope to get to know him better, but where today had led to made you think that your connection wasn’t meant to be something more. However, after hearing him now, a smile grew on your face. You hadn’t been the biggest believer of love at first sight before, now you just might be.

“I don’t want to put any pressure on you, I’m just saying that maybe we could try dating, go on a few dates,” he clarified, shyly averting his eyes from you, the same man that just fucked you with such intensity a while ago. Wow, the duality.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head on his torso. “Lets try it out” you replied, bringing his attention back to you. “I mean, who would be a fool enough to let go of the opportunity to potentially have such a handsome boyfriend,” you teased, looking up at him with a toothy smile, which he returned with his big bunny smile upon hearing your words.

“Then, since it's already late outside, do you want to get dinner together?” He asked.

“Let’s go,” you replied, giving a genuine smile, as you looked forward to possibilities of what lies ahead.

A/n: hey there! Hehe, I hope you enjoyed this! Your thoughts and feedback are always appreciated

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

"𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐫"

synopsis: Your boyfriend, Aventurine, gets drunk and ruins an important event for your other boyfriend, Veritas, and he pays the price while you receive an award.

tags: threesome, cuckholding(?), overstimulation, rough, vulgar, degradation, praise, bondage, toys

wrd cnt: 1.1k

a/n: screaming wish it was me :(

The business party you attended on behave of your partners had been long and tiring, but finally, you were all back home in your comfortable penthouse. As the doors closed behind you, the tension in the air was palpable, and the ride in the car was the worst. Aventurine had….misbehaved, at the party, causing quite a scene and embarrassing both you and Dr. Ratio in front of their colleagues.

“You were supposed to behave tonight, Aventurine,” Dr. Ratio's voice was cold and filled with disappointment as he approached the coat rack.

“But...but I couldn't help it. The champagne was just so good and everyone was having such a good time,” he tried to explain, but Veritas expression didn't soften.

“You know the rules. Misbehaving has consequences, this was an especially important night for my project” he said, their tone leaving no room for argument. Aventurine's eyes widened as they realized what was coming.

Meanwhile, you stood to the side, watching the exchange with a mix of arousal and concern. You knew what was about to happen, and you couldn't deny the thrill that coursed through your veins. But at the same time, you couldn't help but worry for Aventurine.

“Hey- what are you doing….” Your blonde lover spouted, “Y/n…help meee, he’s being so- hiccup so mean”.

“Y/n, unlike you, knows to behave when she needs to. If only you were more like her.” Your other boyfriend says, as he sits Aventurine down on the a chair, his languid body wobbling from his intoxication.

Aventurine's voice trembled in fear and anticipation. “Okay- I’m sorry, but what is this for”

Without another word, Dr. Ratio marched over to a nearby shelf and picked up a small remote. He had tied up the drunk man well, hands behind his back and legs spread apart, an attachment on his crotch.

He pressed a button, and a loud buzzing noise filled the room. You recognized it as the sound of a vibrator.

“Since you couldn't behave in public, you'll have to behave here,” Dr. Ratio replied coldly as they approached Aventurine with the remote in hand. “You can enjoy the sensation while you watch me take care of someone else who can follow the rules.”

Your breath caught in your throat as Dr. Ratio turned to you and pulled you into a passionate kiss. His lips were demanding and possessive as his hands roamed your body, reminding you that you belonged to him right now, him alone. You moaned into the kiss, eagerly responding to his warm touch.

You felt Aventurine's eyes on you, and you opened your eyes to see him staring at you with a mix of arousal, jealousy, and frustration. He were visibly straining against their restraints as the vibrator worked its magic on his cock.

“Are you ready for a reward?” Dr. Ratio asked you, breaking the kiss and turning to Aventurine. He ran a hand down your body and reached between your legs, finding you already wet with desire. 

'Yes, Veritas- ,' you moaned, feeling Aventurine's eyes on you as Dr. Ratio's fingers danced over your clit.

“Very good,” Dr. Ratio said, his voice full of satisfaction as he pushed you down onto the couch infront of your tortured other.

Slowly, he’d remove your shirt, squeezing your tits before taking your bra off. Mouth clasped onto your nipple, he’d give Aventurine some glances, smiling against your skin every now and then as he watched his legs start shaking.

Once your panties were off, Veritas picked you up, and held you against his chest, opening your legs and letting Aventurine get a look at your glistening cunt, getting rubbed and fingered by Veritas.

You held onto him tight, moaning breathlessly as he prepared your hole, whispering dirty things in your ear from behind.

“Feels good baby? You’re so wet already, look at our little mut over there…He’s already came twice it seems.”

He chuckled, kissing the nape of your neck as he feels his cock almost rip the seems of his pants under you.

“Fuck- Can you just….Im so- so sorry please Veritas…”

With Aventurines pleas, your lover only laughed.

He flipped you over on your back to the cushion, spreading your legs as he takes his cock out; slapping your wet pussy with the tip.

“Mmm- fuck…you’re such a good girl, you really deserve this. Unlike some people.”

You gasped when you felt the tip go inside, and after every inch after that.

Veritas was gentle in preparing you, but not gentle when fucking you, especially with all his anger for your other boyfriend. He gripped your waist hard, and thrusted into you so deep, you practically screamed his name.

He snapped at Aventurine, who’s now fully in tears from overstimulating, cumming his brains out and watching you get fucked like you’re doing the same.

“Look at you…Pathetic. You could have taken her other hole but you just had to be an idiot.”

Aventurine watched with a mix of arousal and torturous anguish as Ratio fucked you, making you writhe with pleasure.

The room was filled with the sounds of your moans and the buzzing of the vibrator. Aventurine's eyes were locked on you, his own cock straining against the vibrator as he was forced to watch.

You look at Aventurine, taking small glances of his cock covered in his own cum.

“Don’t look at him, he can’t save you, or himself.” Veritas said, grabbing your face and making you look at him. 

You cried out in pleasure as he pounded into you. You were lost in the bliss of his touch, and Aventurines eyes locked onto your body made everything so much more pleasurable; watching his leaky cock. 

Dr. Ratio's pace quickened, and soon you were both teetering on the edge of ecstasy. With one final, powerful thrust, he sent you both over the edge, your bodies shaking with pleasure. He filled you up to the brim, so much cum oozing out of your hole.

Veritas picked you up quickly, and held your back against his chest, opening your legs and carrying them infront of Aventurine; still strapped to the chair but now recovering as Ratio finally retired the vibrator.

He tries to catch his breathe, looking up to see your spread apart cunt in his face, carried by Veritas.

“Clean her up. It’s all you’re getting tonight.”

With hunger, your starved boyfriend took your cunt into his mouth, hands still behind him as he pushed his face into you, tongue cleaning up Veritas’ mess.

[hedgehog-moss]

Here are before/after pics of my two shorn llamas ✂ ✂ Pampoldine was the one with the most wool, which makes sense seeing as her father looks like a long-necked Komondor dog. I didn't shear Pampelune, she's my least woolly llama so I decided to leave her alone until next year, to her great satisfaction.

Shearing Poldine made me discover new aspects of her, like the fact that her tail is very impressive! It's not as striking when the rest of her is covered in equally thick hair but look at it now:

I had tried to prepare Poldine in previous weeks by stroking her with a stick in increasingly annoying ways while going bzzzzzz (we had reached a point where her only reaction to being bothered in this way was glaring at me). I should have bzzz'ed louder, though. Or maybe bothered her with an electric toothbrush instead, or sat on the couch with her to watch youtube shearing tutorials together with the volume turned up—because when the moment came she was very alarmed by what an ugly noise the shears made. Every time I turned the thing off to reapply oil to the clippers then turned it on again she was like aaaahhh what's that noise all over again.

I bought cordless shears so I could shear her in the pasture, surrounded by the emotional support of her loving family, but as soon as they saw Poldine tied to a post and heard that ominous robotic wasp sound, Pampe & Pampy went okay Poldine it was nice knowing you! And left. Abandoning their daughter / granddaughter to her grim fate.

(the very bad quality pics in this post are screenshots from bad quality videos) (oh and the grey fur you see at the bottom right is Pandolf's, my mum brushed him a few days ago. I promise I didn't shear Pandolf—although he would have probably volunteered, to share Poldine's suffering.)

Considering it was her first ever shearing, I think she was very brave and stoic! There was no spitting, no dramatic hyperventilating, no attempts to lie down on the ground and play dead as llamas sometimes do. (But wait for Part II.) She just danced around a lot to escape the shears, and made plaintive HMM sounds in a vain attempt to awaken some deeply-buried maternal instinct in Pampérigouste. Who never came.

The only (tiny) incident was when Poldine stepped towards me as I was shearing (surprising; she kept moving away before) so I took advantage of this spark of goodwill to lean over her back to shear on the other side, and then she abruptly stepped away and almost made me fall !

This second pic is the most malevolent Poldine has ever looked. She looks just like her mother!

But other than that, it went really well. The process was long and tiring (the shears get heavy after a while) and I kept discovering hidden unshorn spots when I thought I was almost done (look at these Niagara Falls of wool in the pic below!), but Poldine was very sweet. I didn't insist too much on her legs or under her belly as those were her least favourite parts, and I also left a little goatee at the top of her neck so she can stroke it pensively and look wise, and I gave her muesli afterwards and she gave me a kiss, no hard feelings. I couldn't have asked for a better llama partner for my first shearing.

My second shearing, however.

(Continued in Part II...)

[thestarsarebrightertonight]

fresh out the slammer // mattheo riddle x fem reader

playlist : fresh out the slammer - taylor swift

summary : after a 6 month relationship with the narcissistic cormac mclaggen youre finally free and ready to move on asap.

gryffindor reader , y/n used , swearing

masterlist

"fuck you mclaggen!" you screamed as you ran out of his dorm , having caught him snogging a random ravenclaw girl.

your anger was going wild as he chased you down the corridor , shouting pleas of forgivness. but you couldnt help feel relieved to finally have an excuse to break up with him , the happiness and fury seemed to merge into one in your mind.

"mclaggen speak one more word and i swear to merlin ill FUCK YOU UP!" you screamed in his face making him abruptly stop before you turned around and stormed out of the portrait hole.

"yeah well youre ugly anyways!" he deperatly shouted after you as you laughed , making sure he would hear ,"and youre a bitch!"

"and your dick is small!" you shouted back at him , flipping him off just in time before the portrait hole slammed shut.

you let out a sigh of relief when it finally shut , the fat lady staring down at you with suprise before giving you a soft hum of approval , getting back to her normal position.

your whole face brightened into a grin as the realisation sunk in , you were single....but you were free from mclaggen!!

practically skipping to the great hall with a bright grin you waved and greeted every person that passed happily , many were confused by your happiness.

but your friends were even more confused when you ran into the great hall , sprinting to the gryffindor table and stopping infront of them.

"IM FREE!" you cheered before jumping up and down on the spot.

they all stared at you like youd gone mad as you quickly realised hogwarts gossip was quick- but not so quick your breakup from 3 minutes ago wouldve reached them yet.

"free from what?" harry finally broke the silence as you grinned at him.

"MCLAGGEN!" you squealed in excitement before sitting down next to ron.

they all seemed confused until hermione face morphed into pure shock , "you broke up with him?!"

both harry and ron quickly let out "ohh"s of realisation as you nodded with happiness , "i caught him snogging a ravenclaw , great right?! i was so angry at the time but when i realised i was free of him , i practically danced here!"

hermione held back a laugh , "y/n im so sorry thats awful!".

"the only awful thing about it is mclaggens breath," ron muttered as you laughed and shoved him arm causing him to gasp , "thats the first time youve ever laughed at a mclaggen joke , you usually smack the back of my head!".

"yeah well now that im not tied to that physco , i can laugh again!" you beamed like the sun as they all couldnt help but smile.

"im happy for you , happy break up," harry supported with a smile.

"thanks harry!" you then turned serious , "maybe i should be single for a while , i need to recover from the trauma that is being that goblins girlfriend."

ron snorted besides you as hermione let out a small giggle before spotting something behind you and smirking , "yeah i dont think being single will last too long."

"youre right , i just want to kiss someone right now ,because i can!" you laughed.

"yeah well i think i know someone very willing to volunteer for that," hermione said as you smirked and looked at her 'who?' she flicked her eyes back behind you , "riddle. the boy has been obsessed since third year everyone knows it."

"seriously?!" you asked in complete shock as heat rushed to your cheeks , the truth is youve liked him for a very long time , but his cold nature made you dismiss it as a unrealistic crush.

"y/n he hexed mclaggen twice when he found out you were dating." harry said blankly as if this infomation was well known.

"that was him?! mclaggen told me his nose was abnomrally large because the twins pulled a prank on him."

"oh yeah that was the twins but the boils all over his face and the uncontrollable itching? riddle." ron nodded.

"i just thought it was a rough week for him wow" you whispered , all the peices falling into place as you finally decided to turn around to look at mattheo.

and there he was , staring right back at you with his head in his hands , seemingly in a daze. until he quickly snapped out of it when you winked at him.

in mattheos opinion you were the prettiest and funniest girl he knew , and you didnt know him. so when you winked at him and giggled at the scarlett blush that formed on his cheeks , he nearly passed out.

"look at little mattys cheeks!" theodore teased having seen the whole thing ,"did the pretty gryffindor finally give you a glance matty?"

mattheo threw him a cold glare before looking at your back that was now turned to him , he had learned to tune out his friends teasing , especially since it had plagued him every day since third year.

but what he didnt expect was for you to get up out of your seat and run over to him with a bright smile , stopping infront of him and sitting down in the empty spot beside him. even his teasing friends had gone dead silent seeing the gryffindor girl infront of them.

"hi! mattheo right?" you grinned at him as he stared back with wide eyes.

"y-yeah yeah thats me," he struttered.

"sorry , i do know your name its just my friends call you riddle so much i had to make sure. i mean how could i forget such a handsome face?" you winked as everyones jaws dropped, mattheos especially.

"i- thank you..you....youre gorgeous!" the last part came out in a flustered shout as the whole hall turned around in surpise and his friends hid the giggled behind their hands.

you blushed. YOU BLUSHED?! mattheos brain was going into overdrive as the pink hue lit up your cheeks , he never knew it was possible for you to get even prettier.

"t-..thank you mattheo. look i know weve never really talked before , but ive always thought youre funny and nice eventhough you keep to yourself, and obviously hot" his face turned fully red as you so casually gave him the most compliments hes ever recieved in his life, "i was wondering if you wanted to go to hogsmeade with me?"

you smiled hopefully as he stared back with pure suprise on his face. you sat like this for a few moments as he recollected his thoughts , unmoving.

"YES PLEASE!" he said loudly making you laugh as people turned yet again.

"youre cute! see you there!" you said adoringly before kissing his cheek and walking back to the gryffindor table.

the whole of his friend group sat in silence before mattheo banged his head on the table letting out a loud groan of frustration, embarrassment rushing through his veins. this cued the loud howls of laughted from his friends.

"yes please!! he said yes please!!" lorenzo wheezed.

"ive never seen something so awkward in my life!" pansy choked through hysterical laughter , clutching dracos arm for support.

"mattheo for someone so cold and untouchable , you acted like a ten year old!" blaise laughed at him.

mattheo lifted his head from the table , face still as crimson as the ribbon in your hair , "remind me to throw myself off the astronomy tower."

draco dramatically gasped , "not before your big date!" he said in a sarcastic teasing.

and from the gryffindor table you also radiated a crushing embarassment , "i asked if he was called mattheo , UGH!".

[inkskinned]

yesterday while feverish i wrote about how boats can moor next to each other like pigeons, cooing with the gentle rap of water against their hull. you once said that that the way i see things - birds in the water, feathers in marina paint - was "childish and naive." you said i'd been misdiagnosed - "it can't all be adhd. you might be just kind of stupid and lazy."

i still do certain things like how you taught me - turn the pillow case inside out before putting it on. drive defensively. hate myself entirely.

the prompt for this poem is "mahler's fifth." i wish it wasn't, but mahler's fifth was our song. it ended up in my book. every person that knows your name has promised me they'll give you one swift rabbit punch, right to the face. dean read the book and showed up on my front porch, drenched in sweat from running the 8 miles at 4 in the morning. he was shaking. pacifist and gentle - he works with children - i'd never seen him furious. a punch isn't going to do it, he said, and then said i'm sorry. i had to come to see if you were okay.

mahler's fifth was mine first, like my girlhood. i like the way each movement piles onto the next movement, each instrument bleeding into the next. i like the horn version the best. before i met you, i danced to it on grass still-wet from sprinklers.

later you would tell me that the way you heard it was somehow better. you understood something in it that i couldn't quite wrap my fingers into. once, on our anniversary, you asked the classical music radio station to play it for us. we missed hearing it because we were fighting. one of the things people get wrong about abuse is that sometimes victims are, like, brutally aware of the stupidity of our situation. what do you mean that you thought i wasn't good enough for you? you? you're just... nothing.

sometimes people can pull the poetry out of your life. i watched my words become clothesline, and then thin out into kite twine. i watched you chew through every good syllable of me. so many good songs and places and moments were ruined. i am glad you didn't like most of my music - less to tie back to you.

but still mahler's fifth. the music swells, and i am 21 and throwing up in a bathroom on my birthday. a woman i will later refer to as lesbian jesus runs a cool hand down my back, her perfect pantsuit starch-pressed. she told me to leave you. she said - and this is true, and not an invention of rhyme or fantasy - i'm you from the future.

i am 22, and i got home from an award ceremony, and i remember you telling me - you act so proud of yourself when you're actually so fucking embarrassing. i took you to disney world. you took my virginity. i gave up visiting spain for a week with my family - i instead choose you, to spend the time just-cuddling. you called it "our fuck week." the music swells. it probably should have been a red flag that for about 3 years - i just gave up on crying. my grandfather died and you said nothing. my uncle died and you ghosted me for 3 weeks. you said i need to protect myself from your ongoing tragedy.

every so often i come back to the memory of one of our last afternoons in person. i had just told you that i wasn't going to law school, despite the free ride - i was going to join a creative writing program. master's in fine arts. i was going to finally do it - i was going to follow my dreams. this blog was already internet-famous. however reluctantly, i would occasionally refer to myself as a poet. i got into umass amherst's writing program for fiction authors. it is one of the the top 5 programs in the country.

wait are you seriously considering actually attending that? dumbfounded, you turned completely towards me in your seat. for the 3rd time in our relationship, you almost crashed the car. you actually want to be a writer?

the first time i went viral, it was for a poem i wrote about you:

he wants to say i love you but keeps it to goodnight because love will take some falling and she's afraid of heights.

every time i see that, i want to throw up. you weren't in love with me, you were in love with the control you had over me. a little truth though: i am afraid of heights. you caught a rabbitgirl and skinned her alive.

mahler's fifth still makes me sick.

give me that back. give me back music. give me back everything i had before you. give me back fearlessness. give me back bravery. give me back a scarless body.

give me back what you took from me.

[bunnys-kisses]

just behave mrs. riley

simon "ghost" riley

cw: smut/pwp, brat!reader, brat taming & training, masturbation, teasing, bondage, dom/sub dynamic, cumming inside (but not penetrative sex), dirty talk, wife!reader

bunny says: reblogs & comments are always appreciated!

there were two things that simon loved during his off-time. and that was a cold pint and having his missus get his cock wet. while that wasn't what he did all the time, they were his two favourite things to indulge in when not on deployment.

so why then, why was his sweet little mrs. riley, being such a goddamn brat. when he came home from a three month mission, he wanted to have a nice sunday roast, a proper pint and the feeling of his cock being smothered by your pussy.

"love."

you shook your head, "nope!" you were propped up against the headboard with your arms crossed. your brows were furrowed.

simon crawled onto the bed and took your arms away from your chest, "next time. we'll go together, and i will get you whatever you want. i'm sorry, i should've told you i was in japan for a mission. i just was so busy, i didn't have time."

"you could've easily gotten anything. there's stuff everywhere!" you frowned at him.

"i know, i know." simon was apologetic. but the mission was tough and he was out of the cities so it wasn't exactly possible. he knew that you loved your sanrio and the those other little things you collect.

"fuck you, riley." you spat.

simon took you by the jaw, that was enough. the man apologized enough times already and made enough promises. it was time for you to stop acting like a brat. he said, "hey! no need to be usin' that language, love. i said i was sorry."

you tried to bite him and simon shook your head like a dog. you whined and tried to get out of his grasp. you eventually pulled away and stuck your tongue at him.

simon huffed, "alright, sunshine. enough of that." then got up off the bed. he hated to admit that he liked when you acted out, because that he meant that he could react to you.

that meant stripping you down to nothing and tying your wrists to the metal rod headboard. he was very good with rope, all those years of learning hot to tie knots.

"si!"

"no."

"si!"

he shook his head as he took his heavy cock out of his sweat pants. he wasn't going to give what you wanted. brats got punishments and for you that meant being bound while simon jerked off to your pretty body.

you squirmed a little bit at the sight of his cock. he was knelt beside you, his hungry gaze on your nude body. you felt hot all over and wanted his cock buried in you. months apart had you yearning for your husband, you brattiness was only an extension of the need you had for your lover.

simon started to jerk himself off, but paused for a moment to stick two fingers into your mouth to get them wet enough for him to spread across his cock to get a little lubrication.

you whined, "simon!"

"you're such a little bitch, you know that right? you know how much you complain about so much. a good wife is meant to be there for her husband and make sure he's doing alright. but not you. you are a greedy little brat. you only have one thing on your mind, while i got something else in mind. i wanted a nice cold pint, a good game of football and my girl licking my cock. better yet keeping it warm in her pretty pussy." he rambled between pants as he continued to stroke his cock.

his eyes were on your pretty tits, the softness of your body, the faces you made as you were teased by the sight of your husband's cock. his words made you feel hot all over. you felt like dancing on a knife's edge.

"my wife. my cum-dump." he growled, he was fisting his cock with a feverish lust. he loved when you were being a brat, because he got to punish you. he got to push his pretty girl to her limits.

your face felt hot from his words, but between your legs was fairly wet. your core throbbed with a need, but there was no escaping his well tied knots.

"you want your pretty cunt pumped full of cum. you love the sight when it leaks out because you can't even do that right. make sure it stays inside of you, that's what a wife does."

"shit. simon. ah. please, fuck me."

"no can do, love." he said with a shake of his head. he could feel sweat on the nape of his neck, "no, no, no. you need to learn." he pushed his cock up against your side, letting the pre-cum stick to your skin, "you've been a bad girl, love. i love ya to bits, but you gotta be a good woman for me. i can't have ya actin' like a brat."

you panted, you felt hot all over with lust even though he wasn't directly fucking you. you pulled against your binds and wiggled your hips in a pathetic attempt to get your husband to fuck you.

he continued to stroke his cock at the sight of you. the little temptress you were, you made his fat cock ache. he was certain he got breeder balls because of his need to want to breed you. but, before he could do that he needed to get the brat out of you.

it'll take time, but he believed in his capabilities.

he groaned heavily, a steady stream out of his mouth as his cock leaked pre-cum all over his fist. he could feel himself grow closer to orgasm.

"i like ya all tied up." he admitted, "finally settling down and letting me do what i have to do. you're so pretty, i picked the best bird i could get my hands off." he made a slight face as his grip on his cock staggered.

"mmm, simon."

"yeah that's it, pretty girl. just how i like ya. next time i'll give ya what you want. but for tonight, you have to take your punishment."

the words made you pussy ache for him.

he knew he was close, he held onto the pleasurable feeling as he grabbed your legs tightly and slotted his cock in your sweet pussy. he gave it a few strokes before he spat his cum into your sweet pussy.

he took your face once more and said, "there, that's your souvenir from japan. now quit your whinin'."

cum oozed out of you, while he got to enjoy your tight heat. you didn't get enough time to get pleasure in return. you whined and squirmed against the binds.

simon got on top of you once more, his legs braced on either side of your body. he jerked his cock near your face. now that his swimmers were stuck in your womb, now it was time to mess up that pretty face. you just had to be a good girl, mrs. riley. <3

[seospicybin]

TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE.

ROUND 2

Lee Know x reader. (s)

Related chapters: Round 1

Synopsis: Let's play two truths and a lie, and here goes the first thing about Minho: He is good in the kitchen. (10,3k words)

Author's note: I just thought that we need to play another round. Hope you had fun reading this x

Content warning: Infidelity.

Let's play another round of two truths and a lie where Minho shares three things about him and you have to guess which one is the lie.

Here goes the first thing about Minho: He is good in the kitchen.

That's the first thing Kim told you about Minho, he is good in the kitchen and that explains why you often find him in there, cooking meals or something his girlfriend, Kim, asked him to make, sometimes it's something as simple as fried rice to something as complex as beef wellington, he can do it all. In conclusion, his cooking skill is unquestionable.

Just like this morning, the first thing you see as you come out of your bedroom is Minho making something in the kitchen. Before he notices, you slowly tiptoe your way back to your bedroom and reach for the doorknob to—

"Morning!" Kim cheerily says as she comes out of her bedroom.

You instantly turn around on your feet and pretend that you've just come out of your bedroom. From her attire, you can tell that she's going for her morning run.

"Morning, Kim!" You say back with a smile, "Going for a run?"

"Yep. Minho is making pancakes," she answers as she ties her hair into a ponytail, "Have to burn some calories so I can eat more calories."

As a dancer, Kim diligently watches her weight but instead of getting on a rigorous diet, she prefers working out even though her job, dancing, is also working out, and she only spoils herself with a sweet treat on the weekend. She's heading to the kitchen to give Minho a quick peck on the lips and then puts her headphones on.

"I'll see you guys in a bit," she says before walking out the door.

Leaving you and Minho alone in the apartment is not a good idea but how can she know when you've been doing things behind her back?

Since he's already seen you, you may as well start your day, by going to the kitchen and getting yourself a cup of coffee, you just need to get the milk from the fridge, then you'll be out of Minho's way.

As you keep the fridge door open to put the milk back inside, Minho appears behind you and reaches for a carton of eggs from the fridge, his forearm brushes your waist as he retracts his hand.

You quickly step away and take the other end of the kitchen counter, stirring your coffee with a spoon while looking at the weather outside, at the sunlit clouds drifting across a clear blue sky.

"Can you hand me the sugar?" Minho points at the bowl of sugar in your reach.

"Sure," you say, picking it up and placing it on the kitchen counter next to him.

You're going to the other side of the kitchen counter and take a small sip of your coffee, you can sense the caffeine works to bring your brain to function. At the same time, your sense heightens that you know Minho is coming behind you to put the jar of sugar back into its place.

However, when he retracts his arm, his hand stays on your waist and it stays there, making you wonder what he's trying to do next so you turn your head to the side.

In the blink of an eye, Minho quickly captures your lips in a kiss and wraps his arms tightly around you. Your body is quick to respond to it but your brain is working at a sluggish pace.

By the time your brain catches up to it and tells you to stop, Minho already has his hand under your camisole and fondles at your breast.

"Minho..." you whine against his lips.

He breaks the kiss and stares into your eyes, "What?"

It's at the tip of your tongue and your mouth is open but no words coming out of it. Deep down, you know you want it and you don't want it to stop.

Instead of saying what you want out loud, you curve your arm around his neck and pull his head close for a kiss, picking it up and taking it up a notch.

With his free hand, Minho pushes your camisole upward, sending it hunched around your chest and exposing your breasts to the cool morning air.

He wastes no time to freely cup your breast in his hand and he likes how it fits him right, making him think that they were made just for him.

There's not much room for you to move with his arms firmly wrapped around you but when his hand glides down to cup your clothed sex, you start to push back against him and feel his bulge growing behind you.

Your common sense comes in ebbs and flows, and when it finally hits you, you suddenly pull his hand out of your shorts and break away from his hold.

"Kim will be back soon," you remind him with your voice tinted with concern.

Minho puts his hands on each side of your waist and makes you lean against the kitchen counter, "She won't be back for a while," he calmly says.

He then buries his mouth in the crook of your neck, peeling back the layers of worry off of you with every kiss he planted there.

All of a sudden, you find the guts to put your hands on his chest and push him a little too hard it sends him staggering a couple of steps to the back.

No matter how far you push him away, your body wants to be as close as possible to him. You find yourself walking back to him and taking your turn to corner him against the kitchen counter.

He's wearing this plain white t-shirt but gosh, it looks good on him and you like it even more when you can trace the muscles on his body through the fabric.

"But we don't know for sure," you say, leaning in for a kiss which he eagerly returns and makes him ask for more.

However, it's the grey sweatpants he's wearing that make you lose your mind a little. It's unclear whether it's the fabric or the color or the style of the pants that somehow accentuate the shape of his cock, or the way he walks around in the apartment in it and unaware of what it does to you.

You quietly pull his sweatpants low enough to let his member free out of its confine and without looking, your hand knows what it's looking for and immediately wrap your hand around it, slowly stroking it.

"For all we know, she may be back in a few minutes," you say against his lips.

Minho is engrossed in how you're slowly stroking his cock as you speak, it takes him a while to respond to your question.

"She won't," he assures you, pulling you close by the waist and putting his hand between your legs, rubbing your clit through your shorts.

"She's been gone for fifteen minutes now," you say before he has your lips locked with his again.

"Then we just have to make it quick," he simply resolves, lifting you by the waist, and swiftly, he turns around on his feet to sit you on the counter.

As a dancer, he is trained to lift his partner and he does it seamlessly as if he's lifting a piece of paper. Well, he has the muscles to prove his years-long dance training.

"Minho, we can't," you say as he leans in to kiss your neck.

Instead of stopping him from coming at your breasts, you hold them up for him so he can take them into his mouth.

He sucks on the flesh hard that you wince in pain and he lets go with a satisfied grin, "we definitely can," he coyly disagrees.

"What I'm saying is—" you pause as he parts your legs open, sending you leaning to the back and you quickly prop a hand to support you.

Minho tugs his hands at the elastic band of your pajama shorts and thinking of taking it off of you, you scramble to stop him.

"Just put it to the side," you tell him.

He obeys your words, putting the shorts along with your underwear to the side. He delightfully sighs at the sight of your heating core and he uses his fingers to feel how wet you are for him.

"I can't stop when you're this wet for me," he mutters as he swipes your lips with his fingers coated with your essence, then shoves it into his mouth next.

Feeling challenged to do the same, you lick your lips and get a taste of you on your tongue, you taste so sinfully sweet as the kiss he's about to plant on you.

While his lips keep you busy with kisses, Minho aligns his cock with your entrance, he rubs his tip between your folds then with a slow push, he starts to enter you.

The kiss breaks as the two of you shift your focus on how his cock pushing its way inside you. You spread your legs as wide as possible and watch as his cock is slowly disappearing into you.

Minho curves his hands around you and then glides them down until his hands meet the curve of your ass, he pulls you close, seeking closeness as he's about to fully bottomed out inside you.

"And I can't stop when you feel this good," he says as he crashes his lips against yours again.

The room soon filled with your low moans combined with the sounds of his hips against the back of your thighs. His nails dig into the flesh as he steadily keeps your legs open for him.

Even with your brain clouded with pleasure, a slight of fear comes creeping up in you and makes you keep looking to the side, in the direction of the foyer, and the fact that Kim can come in any minute now.

"Minho," you breathlessly call in between your moans.

You continue talking when you have his attention by putting your hand on his neck, "We can't keep doing this to Kim."

"I know," he says with a small nod, "it's unfair to her."

And it's unfair how he tries to take your mind away from things by suddenly adding intensity to his thrusts and going as shallow as possible inside you.

"Uh-huh, it's unfair," you repeat your words, suddenly losing all the words in your head.

Minho pulls you even closer until you're sitting on the edge of the counter while keeping the pace steady, he lets go of your legs and wraps his arms around you instead. He looks down at his cock slipping in and out of you then when his eyes find you, he intensely stares into your eyes as if he dares you to try to stop him again.

The truth is you're just a human who tends to make the same mistakes and above all that, you're just a girl who wants what she wants and in this moment, you want nothing else but him.

The grip on his shoulder tightens as you come to your climax, your moans turn into breathless whines and you bury your head in his neck.

Yet Minho keeps going and chasing for his high as your walls pulsate and flutter around him, all of those stimulations combined with the fear that Kim may walk in on you and him doing it in the kitchen only arouses him more.

"Don't cum inside," you whisper into his ear.

Now that you said it, it only makes him want to do it and he plans on ignoring those words.

You crumple the front of his t-shirt in your hand and force him to look you in the eyes, "Minho, you can't cum inside," you warn again.

Hearing the urgency in your voice, Minho refrains from doing it and wisely follows your words.

"Where do you want it then?" He asks, suddenly getting curious about your answer.

"My mouth," you shortly answer because it's the only way to make sure to leave no trace of this abomination. No trace means you can pretend that this never happened.

Minho stops moving for a second, unsure if he heard you right. You put your hand on his neck and say again, "You can cum in my mouth."

What you said seems to trigger something inside of him that he continues thrusting into you harder and faster, not caring that you've just cum around him a while ago which only make you even more sensitive than before.

You let him have it because this is the only way you know that'll bring him closer to his release. Also, you don't know how long this has been going on but you know that you don't have much left before Kim comes back.

All of a sudden, Minho puts his arms around your waist and steadily hoists you against him. You immediately wrap your legs around him and your arms around his shoulders.

"Oh..." a raw groan escapes his mouth as he lets go just a little and feels his cock deepens inside you as you cling to him.

The two of you stay still like that for a moment, encased in endless pleasure and palpable desire for each other that it feels like the slightest movement would break the spell.

Sadly, time isn't on your side.

You slowly let go of your hold around him, forcing Minho to put you down gently until your feet touch the floor and eventually, he has to pull out of you, making you feel the sudden emptiness.

You kneel on the floor as he incessantly pumps his cock to keep the stimulation going. You can see his cock, all red and veiny inches away from your eyes as you offer your mouth for him to dump his load.

Seeing him from this point of view surely feels new to you but not less arousing, you can see his forehead wrinkled with how much he focuses on chasing his release.

The most arousing part is the way he's looking down on you, seeing how much you want his cum in your mouth and he's the only one who can give it to you.

"Wider," he murmurs through his gritted teeth.

Also added is the fact that he is someone's boyfriend, oh, everything about it is arousing you so much that your hand flies to your cunt, touching yourself as you obey his word. While maintaining eye contact with him, you open your mouth wider and stick your tongue out a little, waiting for him to shoot his load on you like a bitch in heat.

The second his cum spurts out of his tip and lands on you, you gasp at how hot it feels on your skin. You close your eyes and keep your mouth open as more of his cum gets on your tongue, your lips, and all over your mouth.

Using the tip of his sock, Minho smears his pearly white cum all over your lips, tempting you to put it into your mouth and of course, you cave into the temptation. You give his tip a few kitten licks before taking his length little by little, you compensate for the rest you can't take with your hand.

"Oh..." he delightfully sighs with his head thrown back.

To see him fully indulging in it and hearing him moaning on pleasure encourages you to keep going, sucking him hard and syncing it with the pumping of your hand around the base of his cock.

"Oh, yes, keep going," he mutters to you with his voice soft and sultry.

He puts his hand in your hair and tugs at it, using it to angle your head slightly to the back to provide him more depth as he gently pushes a little more of his cock into your mouth.

"Fu..." his profanity trails off and turns into a breathless moan as he slowly begins thrusting his cock in and out of you.

You're aware that he's using your mouth for his pleasure and you don't mind any of it, if anything, it makes you want to touch yourself more. You allow yourself to do just that, rubbing on your clothed clit as Minho is fucking your mouth.

"Mmh..." you moan with your mouth full of his hot, swollen flesh.

"Oh, you and your fucking mouth," he mutters with a low breath, his eyes intently watching how you're taking every thrust of his cock into your mouth.

For a split second, you forget about Kim until you hear the sound of the front door opening and then closing. You're about to pull out but Minho's grip on the back of your head forces you to remain still.

Your heart starts pounding inside your chest as you hear her footsteps coming closer and she stops just on the other side of the counter where you remain hidden on this side with her boyfriend's cock deep in your throat.

"Oh, it's so hot today," Kim says, still panting from running. You hear her pouring water into a glass and then the sounds of her heartily gulping it.

Minho remains calm and puts his free hand on the counter, "Yeah, you sweat a lot, honey," he says.

There's a low thud of what you assume coming from Kim putting her glass down, "And where are my pancakes?"

"I want it to be hot when you're having it," he simply answers.

"Well then, I'm going to wash my face, and my hands and I'll be ready for pancakes," Kim says.

You can only imagine how she smiles brightly at him when she said it, oblivious to the fact that her roommate is sucking her boyfriend's cock as she speaks.

"They better be good," she adds as she walks away.

You start to relax when you hear her footsteps receding, then you hear the sound of the door being opened and then closed after.

Minho finally lets go of his dead grip on the back of your head and you immediately pull out, a little too fast that you choke on your saliva, sending you into a coughing fit.

You rise from the floor, fixing your clothes as you head to the sink to wipe the mess on your mouth with the running water.

It has just sunken into you of what you did with Minho, the guilt hits you like a ton of brick and it tastes bitter on your tongue no matter how much you rinse it with water.

"Are you okay, babe?" Kim asks you as she comes into the kitchen.

Her presence makes you choke on water this time, you grab a bunch of tissues from the box and wipe your mouth with it.

"I'm okay," you answer, "I'm just choked on something."

Without looking, you can feel Minho's sly smirk from across the kitchen counter. It's best if you exclude yourself from this to avoid any slips out.

"Where are you going?" Kim asks you, she drags a stool and pats it, "Come sit and eat pancakes with me!"

"No, I have something—"

"What do you possibly need to do on a Sunday morning?" She asks with a pout.

"Come on, take a seat!" She says, excitedly patting the seat and inviting you to sit next to her.

If you persist on leaving, she'll only get suspicious of you so you relent, sitting on the stool next to her while holding your cup of coffee.

On the other hand, Minho did his part too well. He acts like nothing happened and successfully makes pancakes for both you and Kim.

"You want cream with that, honey?" He asks Kim but his eyes wander your way for a second.

"No, thank you," Kim politely refuses, "but I'll have the syrups."

Minho wastes no time to get it for her from the kitchen cabinet and gives it to her. He then takes a tube of whipped cream and gives it a shake.

"Extra cream for you then," he says to you as he places creams on top of your pancakes and flashes you a faint smirk that only you can see.

Unable to respond to it with words, you stab the pancakes with your fork and have a bite at it, hate to admit it but it tastes good.

Well then this makes the first statement a truth: Minho is indeed good in the kitchen.

-

This is it, you say in your head as the bell in your head goes ding!

The apartment may be much smaller than Kim's but it has everything you need, a bedroom, an adequate space to be called a living room, and a fully functioning kitchen. The only downside is it's a farther commute to work but the affordable rent makes up for it and that's the most important thing.

"Are you going to take it?" Gaspard asks as he floats through the crowd like a divine being among mortals.

"I have to take it," you answer while trying to keep up with his long strides, "It's the best offer."

"I think so too," he says, putting his arm around you so you don't stray away from him.

"Yeah?"

He nods, "Cause then you'll be living only a few blocks away from me."

"Oh? You know what? I change my mind," you jokingly say, turning around to walk in the opposite direction.

"Hey!" He holds you back and steers you to the right way by the shoulders, "No turning back now!'

About a week ago, you made it very clear to Gaspard that you want to stay as good friends with him but it's easy to tell that he still believes this can be more than that. That leads you to act careful around him because you're scared that he's mistaken it for something else.

"Aren't you going to invite me upstairs?" He playfully asks as you both stand outside the apartment building.

"Better luck next time," You joke back with a gentle push on his chest.

"Not even for a can of beer?" He sweetly blinks his eyes at you in the hope that will be enough to persuade you.

"Just one!" You cave in because he's been helping you with the apartment hunting and you've been walking around since this afternoon until the day turns dark.

"Just one," he repeats your words in agreement.

"Promise?"

"Promise!"

The apartment is empty because Kim and Minho are out on a date which makes it a convenient time to enjoy a cold drink after a day's hard work.

"Where's Kim?" Gaspard asks as you join him on the sofa.

"I think they're going to the movies or something," you mindless answer, you couldn't care less about what they're doing on a date.

The two of you get quiet after taking a long gulp of beer and gasp at how refreshing it is like you didn't just have it with dinner earlier.

"I reckon you're going to break the news to Kim soon?" Gaspard asks as he leans back on the sofa with his head turned at you.

"Well... yeah," you meekly answer and it reminds you how of you're not ready for that part yet.

"How do you think she'll react?" He asks as he secretly puts his arm around your shoulders.

"I don't know," you sigh, then take a sip of your beer, "I just hope that she knows that the reason has nothing to do with her."

"What's the reason then?" Gaspard asks for the first time and seems to be genuinely curious about the answer.

It feels like you're trapped by your own words, you know the reason but you can't tell him or anyone for that matter.

"Because I want to live close to you," you decide to risk getting it mistaken for something else instead of letting him in on the answer.

With the hand around your shoulders, Gaspard easily pulls you close until you're sitting elbow to elbow and bumping knees with him on the sofa.

"Have I told you you looked beautiful today?" He seduces you as he's brushing your hair to the side.

"Not enough," you jokingly answer.

Gaspard leans in to whisper it to you right into your ear, "You're so beautiful," he mutters then kisses on the cheek.

"Thank you," you sweetly say with a smile.

Catching you off guard, he places one more kiss on the other cheek and pulls away with a big smile on his face. Well, you've done your part to spare him from the disappointment so it's not your fault that he puts himself back on the track for it.

"You promised it was going to be just one beer," you scold him along with a sassy eye roll.

"And I'm not finished with my beer yet," he cleverly answers.

The front door flies open and Kim comes into sight, finding you and Gaspard snuggling close together on the sofa. She smiles at you and puts down her bag on the dining table.

"What do we have here?" She asks with a sly smile.

"Nothing. We're just drinking beers," you calmly answer while quietly putting a safe space between you and Gaspard on the sofa.

"Yeah, I'm just here for one beer," Gaspard says, emphasizing the amount of beer with a sly grin flashed your way.

"And he'll leave soon," you add, returning the sly grin to him.

Taking this as a sign to give you privacy so you can break the news to Kim, Gaspard says, "And I'm leaving."

"No. Stay," Kim says as she sits on the sofa next to you.

"I can only bother you this much, Kim," he jokingly says and comes at you for a hug, "I'll see my way out."

"Thanks for today," you say as you hug him back.

You wait until Gaspard leaves to talk to Kim about what you did today and that you'll be moving out of the apartment soon. You finish your beer to fuel your courage and quietly exhale air to calm yourself down.

"Kim, I need to talk to you about something," you start.

Kim brushes her long dark hair and rests it on her shoulder like a waterfall, "Mmh? What is it?" She asks.

Now, that you have her attention and no one else is here except for the two of you, this is the right time to tell her. You open your mouth and plan to just give it to her all at once until Minho comes through the front door.

"Where do you want me to put it?" He asks Kim, showing the plastic bag he's carrying in his hand.

"Can you put them in the fridge for me, honey?" Kim answers.

"Sure," he shortly answers, going to the kitchen to do what Kim asked him to do.

"I ran out of my fiber drinks," she says, explaining what she made Minho bought for her.

"Ah, I see..." you meekly respond, losing every word you've been carefully arranging in your head so you abort the plan to tell her about the apartment situation.

"So, what do you want to talk about?" She asks with a soft smile on her face, making you feel even more disheartened to tell her.

"Oh, I..." you feel tempted to just let it all out but your eyes keep uneasily glancing at Minho and you don't want him there to hear it.

"I forgot what I'm trying to say to you. Sorry," you lie and add a foolish laugh to convince her.

Kim seems to buy it as she cracks a laugh and gently slaps your knee, "You silly!"

"I'll tell you once I remember it," you say to her.

Or more like, when Minho isn't around.

-

Two days have passed with Kim is still oblivious that you'll be moving out of the apartment soon.

You always missed each other's timing, when you had the time, Kim was in a hurry to go to the academy and when she was alone at home, you were working late that night. It's like a mysterious force trying to hold you back from telling her the truth.

When you came home from work tonight, you found Kim eating dinner alone in the kitchen. To make sure that Minho isn't around or coming unannounced like usual, you simply ask why she is by herself when her boyfriend always drives her home and usually stays to have dinner together.

"Minho's car broke down so I took a taxi home," Kim answers with a low sigh.

"Oh, that's upsetting," you keep your expression in check as you say it, not risking Kim catching you turn his misfortune into an opportunity.

"It's about time he sends his car to the shop anyway," Kim says.

It's unethical to interrupt her in the middle of her dinner so you carefully pick your timing and wait until she's done with her dinner to talk.

You grab a can of juice from the fridge and take a seat next to her, "Kim, can I talk to you about something?" you hesitantly say.

"Sure, babe," she says, putting down her glass of water then stacks her hands together on the dining table, "What is it?"

"A week ago, I found a suitable apartment not far from Gaspard's. It's not as big as this..." you gulp air to be able to continue talking, "It's in a nice neighborhood and the rent is affordable so I'm thinking of moving in there."

A moment passes in silence as Kim processes your words, her fingers wrapped around the bottom of her glass and tapping at it.

"You want to move out?" She asks as the glints in her eyes slightly dim.

"Yes," you hesitantly say.

"I reckon it's about time that I get my own place," you hurriedly add the number one reason why you want to move out so she doesn't think that it has anything to do with her.

"It's not because of me, right?" She meekly asks.

"No," you answer without a beat, "I love being your roommate but you know... I can't stay here forever. I eventually have to move out."

"Nonsense! You definitely can stay here forever," Kim remarks as she grabs your hand on your lap.

You put your hand on hers and softly smile at her, "I'd love to but..."

You can't keep living with her knowing you've been betraying her and the guilt is eating you alive from the inside as you speak? You continue in your head.

"It's either now or later, it's something that I have to do," you settle on a reasonable answer.

"That's true," Kim weakly says, looking a little taken aback by your announcement.

"I'm sorry if this is so sudden. I didn't mean to keep it this long, we were so busy these past few days that I only got the chance to tell you now," you explain with utmost sincerity.

Kim nods and puts on a smile for you, "it's okay. I understand."

Your heart is getting heavy the more you talk, you'd better end it before the guilt gets to you and you're giving it the chance to crawl out of you. You grab your purse, rummaging through the content for the envelope you've been putting aside and planning to give to Kim.

"This is for this month's rent," you hand the envelope straight into her hand.

She folds it in half and puts the envelope back into your hand, "Take it. You need it for moving and buying stuff for your new apartment.

"No, Kim. I can't. It's yours!" You forcefully put it back into her hand but she balls her hand into a fist.

"Consider this as an early housewarming gift," she insists, holding your hand down to make you stop giving the envelope back to her.

"Kim, no... I shouldn't—" You sigh in defeat, having no other way to make her accept your money.

"I'm going to miss you," Kim's voice cracks, and the next thing you know, she's hugging you so tightly that you can feel how much she meant her words.

"Oh, Kim, you can't get rid of me yet," you playfully say to lighten up the mood, "at least, for the next three weeks."

This is why you have to move out soon, Kim is too kind and all you do in return is use her kindness to fool her and stab her in the back, you've been treating her like a shit friend, and you feel sick have to keep doing that to her.

-

This is statement number two: Minho knows that he's the reason why.

There's this gut feeling that something is going to happen. This could be just a reaction to the change you'll face soon, new apartment, new neighborhood, there'll be no Kim, and the realization that you'll do everything on your own at that point.

It's scary and exciting, you feel a little bit of both at times. One thing that always lingers inside you is this slight fear that Minho possibly knows he's the reason why you decide to move out.

A week went by and you can safely assume that Kim must have told Minho about the apartment situation. You swear you're not expecting anything at all from Minho, but he's been strangely normal and taciturn which only confirms that something is actually off about him.

You should be taking this as an advantage because then you wouldn't have to interact with him and fewer interactions lead to you making fewer mistakes with him.

Work has been keeping you busy too that you haven't had the chance to pack your things. When you come home late tonight, Kim is already sleeping and you don't want to bother her by the sound of you shoving your things into boxes.

Well, you still have a week left anyway to sort your things out and you're tired from work, you hurriedly make your way to the bathroom for a quick shower.

In the midst of it, you hear the knocking on the door and your first thought is that Kim must be in urgency to use the bathroom.

"Kim?" You call but there's no answer

You turn off the shower and put on a bathrobe, you carefully walk as water drips down your body and hair to open the door.

"Is that you..." your words trail off as you see who's coming into the bathroom and it's not Kim.

There was no sign that Minho was in the apartment when you walked in because you could tell from the sight of his shoes in the foyer or his bag that sits in the living room so unless he has the ability to become invisible, it means that he came just now to the apartment.

Gosh! You tried so hard to avoid temptation and now it's coming to get you. You're clutching your bathrobe together and head to the door.

"You can use the bathroom," you say without looking at him.

He grabs you by the elbow to stop you from leaving, he pulls you hard enough that your body crashes against him, then wraps his arms around you.

"I heard you're moving out," he says.

You break away from his hold and put his hands away from you, "not your business," you say.

Minho is quick to catch your hands by the wrist then he folds them together behind your back, making you unable to move as he leans in to kiss you.

You turn your head to the side, not letting him kiss you but instead of doing that, he steers your body to the back until your back meets the bathroom sink.

"Is it because of me?" He asks.

You scoff and make a mocking smirk at him, "Not everything is about you, Minho," you say, daringly staring into his dark brown eyes.

Catching you off guard, Minho crashes his lips against you and you hate that you instinctively return his kiss. He pulls away for a bit then plants his lips on yours again, deeper and hungrier than before.

Getting a moment of clarity, you pull away from the kiss and keep your head turned away from him, "We can't keep doing this to Kim," you remark.

He leans in close until his face is only inches away from yours, "So you admit that it's because of me?"

There's no way of denying it anymore so you may as well just admit it, "You made me do this and I don't—"

He cuts you off with a kiss and you have to pull your head back hard enough to break it, "I hate myself for it and I hate you for making me keep doing this to Kim," you bravely tell him right to his face.

He leans in even closer so that you can see the dark orbs of his eyes, "Tell that to me once again," he dares you.

This is the time to break away from this cycle that shackles you with guilt, you should stop now before all this guilt weighs you down and drown you further.

"I hate you, Minho," you unequivocally tell him with unwavering eyes.

Minho intensely stares into your eyes to see if your words match what you're feeling inside. His eyes flick down to your lips, tempted to lean in for another but when his lips make contact with yours, he changes his mind.

He lets go of his hold on you all at once and then takes a step back, exiting the room and leaving you untethered for good.

-

It seems like what you've said to him has done it because Minho acts like you're not even there whenever you're in the same space with him and this morning, you find yourself in the kitchen with him just quietly minding your own business.

This is good, right? That means there'll be no more mistakes, no more betraying Kim and you can start being a good friend again. The best thing of all, you get to move out of the apartment on a good note.

"Hey, you're not working late tonight, right?" Kim asks as you're enjoying your morning coffee.

"I hope not," you say, putting down your half-eaten toast on the plate, "Cause I have lots to do tomorrow."

Kim nods and pours herself a glass of orange juice, "Since this will be your last night in an apartment, I'm hoping that we can have dinner together," she says with a smile.

She walks up to Minho and places her hand on the small of his back, "Minho will be cooking, of course, and I'll get a nice bottle of wine for—"

You quickly swallow your food to refuse the idea, "Oh, no, Kim, please, I don't feel good—"

She clicks her tongue at you and shakes her head, "No, you can't say no. I'll be waiting for you to come home whether you like it or not," she insists.

Maybe it's coming from the fact that she comes from a privileged family, Kim can be quite adamant about certain things, especially when she wants something, in one way or another, she has to get it.

The whole time at work, you're debating whether to make an excuse to avoid attending dinner or just gladly accept Kim's kind gesture and come to the dinner, the latter is what a good friend would do, right?

On the way home, you purposely missed the trains a couple of times before finally getting in. You're dreading it because Minho is cooking dinner and that means he'll be there for it, and this is worse than doing things behind Kim's back because you have to act innocent in front of her.

At the door of the apartment, you take a few deep breaths with your hand holding the doorknob. You console yourself with the thought that you'll only have to endure it for one more night and all this will disappear tomorrow.

"I'm home," you announce your arrival and try your best to sound cheerful as you make your way inside.

As expected, Kim is sitting at the dining table with Minho and it seems like they started without you as you see the glasses of wine.

"Oh, there you are!" Kim claps her hands together in delight.

"I'm sorry. The train was delayed for almost an hour," you make up an excuse for your tardiness while putting down your bag on the kitchen counter and head to the kitchen sink to wash your hands.

"I hope you don't mind that we almost finished the first bottle without you," Kim says.

"I don't mind at all," you say as you dry your hand with a napkin.

As you take a seat at the dining table, Minho gets up his seat and heads to the kitchen. You can't tell if that's intentional or not, but you remind yourself to not give an ounce of care to whatever he's doing.

"Minho only needs to reheat the sauce and dinner will be ready," Kim says as she fills your glass with red wine and the aphrodisiac smell wafting around in the room.

"Thank you," You smile in gratitude and take a small sip of it.

"So, how was work?"

"Dreadful," you shortly answer and reward yourself with another sip.

Kim cracks a laugh and something about it gives you the impression that she's rather a little intoxicated already.

"I'm sorry that I can't help you move out tomorrow," she says as she pours more wine into her glass which you deem is not a smart move.

"That's more than fine," you respond, "I heard from Gaspard you guys have started practicing for the winter show."

"Oh, yeah..." she softly says and then gets lost in her words for a second.

"We're doing The Nutcracker, again," she says with a dramatic pause.

"That sounds fun!" You nicely respond.

"You should come on the opening day, I'll send the ticket," she enthusiastically says and sips her wine.

"Only if you come to my little housewarming party," you meekly say even though you're not sure you know how to throw a party of any kind.

"That's a deal!" She says, clinking her glass of wine with you to seal the deal.

The mouthwatering smell has taken over the room as Minho serves the food on the table, he's cooking pasta and a big steak to share which he has sliced, showing off the perfect level of cooking doneness.

"This is delicious, honey," Kim praises after taking a bite of it, she then turns to look at you, "What do you think?"

"This is really good," you compliment because, despite everything, you can't deny that he's a good cook which also reminds you to thank him for it.

"Thank you for cooking dinner, Minho," you say even though his name feels dry and strange on your tongue.

He only nods and doesn't say anything but put more food on Kim's plate, and you can't lie that you feel a little dejected by his lack of reaction.

The dinner would be a big awkward moment if Kim wasn't leading ninety percent of the conversation on the table but as the night goes on and more wine dawned in, Kim starts to slur her words and mindlessly rambles about random things all at once. It gets to the point that she accidentally knocks things off, first it was her glass of wine and then, a pitcher of water that is now flooding the dining table.

"Kim, I think it's time for bed," you kindly say.

She brushes her hair away and sniffles, "But it's your last night here."

"We'll still be seeing each other tomorrow," you console her.

She cracks a smile and then snorts, "That's right."

Minho is quick to offer himself to carry her to bed but before she comes into his arms, Kim crashes herself into you and hugs you so tightly.

"You're the best roommate I've ever had," she mumbles with her head buried in your neck.

You put your arms around her to return her hug and gently pat her back, "That's so sweet of you, Kim."

"And I'm not saying that because you're the only roommate I've ever had, I genuinely love having you here," she says, pausing to inhale air.

"it's going to be so weird coming home and you're not here," she adds with a sniffle.

You can't bring yourself to check whether she's crying or not because if she does, there's a big chance you'll cry too. Instead, you look at Minho to let him know this is why you can't hurt her anymore.

All of a sudden, Kim breaks away from the hug and runs to Minho, she lets him take her to the bedroom. You watch as they get inside and close the door behind them.

After cleaning up the dining table and doing the dishes, you can finally go to your bedroom, being with yourself for the first time after a long, eventful day.

The room is bare since you have packed everything into boxes and you're standing there wondering how your life fits in those boxes. It gets you all sentimental as you feel like you're going on a new path in life.

The moment gets interrupted as you notice through the reflection in the mirror that Minho is coming into your room. Before you can stop him, he barges in and crashes his body against yours, lips instantly locked with yours as if they're two opposites of the magnet.

"Minho..." you sadly whine against his lips.

When you look into his eyes though, you just can't find it in you to resist him anymore so you give in and let tonight be another mistake.

Just one more mistake, you tell yourself.

-

Minho likes it when you're saying one thing but your body does the opposite. He's holding you close from behind and his hand is down south, fingers playing with your clit before he pushes one digit inside you, making you shut your legs together in reaction.

"We can't do this," you mutter against his lips.

He's expecting you to say that at one point but not this early in the night and not when he's just started. He presses his mouth into your ear and whispers, "Fight back harder if you don't want this."

There are so many ways for you to tell him off, you can break away from his hold, you can push him away and close the door right on his face but you do want this, he can see in the mirror how you liked being touched all over and how you like two fingers instead of one inside you.

"Oh..." you shakily moan as he enters two digits into you now.

Minho can feel it blooming under his touch and how wet you are for him, how your body wants more of him despite all of your efforts to stop him.

And you know what? He wants you just as much if not more.

He starts undressing you, taking every piece of clothing off of you as eager as a child unwrapping his Christmas present, and then gently, he lays you down on the end of the bed.

You look up at him with your eyes wide and flickering with desire, "Let's stop here, I let you—"

There you go with your empty warning again, he shuts you off with a kiss, "There's no way I can hold back," he says to you.

Impatient, he rips open his shirt and tosses it aside before kneeling at the end of the bed to indulge in your pool of arousal. Your moans begin to fill the room and in the mirror, he can see you try to muffle it by covering your mouth with your hand.

Minho can't get over how wet you are for him and he wants to keep it that way as he has lots of things he wants to do to you.

He gets up from the floor and quickly gets rid of his jeans next, then wastes no time to walk up to you. He takes your legs by the ankles, lifting them and holding them close to his chest, and then slowly, he parts them open.

Oh, the sight of your wet flushed cunt will never cease to arouse him. His head gets dizzy just from looking at it and it starts spinning as you put your hand around his cock.

"Fuck!" He curses under his breath as you bring his cock and rub it between your folds, making him more impatient to be inside you.

His patience wears thin and he puts his focus on aligning it with your entrance.

"Minho, I told you we can't— oh..." you loudly moan as you feel his cock penetrates you and stop talking as he pushes the rest in a painstakingly slow motion to make sure you feel every inch of his length stretching you.

"Doesn't this feel way too good?" He says as he deeply stares into your eyes.

He doesn't need to hear you say it, he knows because you feel too good around him too. He is steadily holding your legs on each side of his waist as he starts thrusting into you.

Minho can't decide whether he should watch his cock slipping in and out of you or watch how much you're enjoying it, quietly moaning while tugging your fingers between your teeth.

One thing he knows what to do is to make this last as long as possible, he stops when he knows you're closing in on your high.

"Oh," you sigh as he pulls out of you and swiftly, turns you over on the bed.

Now, he has you lying on your stomach and he grips your waist, raising it a little higher to give him just the right angle to enter you from behind.

You whine as you feel him full again and he's lowering himself on top of you, he's propping his elbow against the mattress to not put his whole weight on you.

Minho puts his hand around your neck and slightly tilts your head to the back to land a kiss on your lips. He can feel the blood rushing in your veins with his hand wrapped around your neck.

"Minho, let's stop this already," you whine.

Despite his cock buried deep inside you, you still find it in you to try to stop him. He kisses you hard and deep as if he's trying to strip all of your senses away.

"Shut up!" He tells you, "You don't even want to stop."

From the way you close your mouth is enough to tell him that you have no response to that but he knows now that he needs to fuck all these worries out of you.

Minho does all of that, he's fucking you with all his might, he watches how your face contorted in pleasure, how your hands are crumpling the sheet under you as he picks up the pace.

"Minho..." you breathlessly call.

Before you can say anything to stop him again, he grabs your chin and makes you see your reflection in the mirror, "Look at that!"

He waits until you open your eyes and see yourself in the mirror as he asks you, "Does it look like you want me to stop?"

Fucking you good isn't enough, he needs to fuck you hard enough that you forget everything else except for this moment where only you and him exist in this sinful tryst.

"If you keep going, I'm going to come," you whine between your moans.

Minho takes that as a sign that he's heading the right way but rather than adding speed to his thrusts, he slows down his pace and allows himself to melt onto you, putting his body on yours, placing kisses all over your shoulder and neck until his lips find their way back to yours.

There's no way he's finishing this without seeing your face when it's everything he wanted the most from it, seeing how fucked out you are that you can't find words to say.

After turning you over on the bed, he takes a moment to let his eyes lust over your body and then he runs his hand all over you, feeling your soft skin under his fingertips. He's using his mouth next to suck on your breasts and his tongue to play with your nipples.

All these times, he's been good by not doing it but the urge to mark you is getting unbearable so he does it, sucking on your ample flesh hard enough that he knows it's going to leave a mark.

"Ow..." you yelp in pain but it comes out as a mewl as you try to keep your noises on the low.

Minho settles himself between your legs, burying his head once again in your wetness to prepare you for what comes next. You're whining and moaning, sometimes, it's a mix of both and it's resounding in the room.

He starts to believe that you forgot about his girlfriend sleeping in the bedroom across the room, he puts it to the test by sucking on your clit which earned a loud moan for you. He's right, you forgot about it until a while later, and you hurriedly cover your mouth with the back of your hand.

He gets impatient all over again when it comes to entering you, he can only hold himself back so much and his self-control is wearing thin. He's lowly groaning as he pushes himself back into you, feeling your tight walls welcoming him.

"How are you feel so good every damn time, mmh?" He asks in disbelief with a rough kiss on your lips.

The sex feels so much better than the previous and if he could, he is just wanting to keep doing it with you because it doesn't feel like with other people, including his girlfriend of almost three years.

He watches as your eyes fluttering open and shut, and breathless moans spilling out of your parted mouth, overwhelmed by what he's doing to you.

"Look at you! Making lewd moans for me," he mutters with an intense gaze directed toward you.

He brushes your hair away from your face and kisses your open mouth, "Aren't you supposed to hate me?"

You lick your lips and look at him through your half-shut eyes, "I hate— oh..."

He launches his cock deeper inside you, not letting you finish your sentence, and keeps the intensity of his thrusts to distract you.

"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!" You manage to repeatedly say and Minho roughly thrusts into you every time you say it.

"That doesn't sound convincing," he mockingly says, pretending like it doesn't affect him when in fact, it does.

"I hate you and I hate your guts," you say with your body shaking from how hard he's fucking you and your breasts jiggling along to it.

The hate somehow encourages him to keep going, he's letting go of himself and letting his body take care of the rest. He doesn't need to worry about you, he knows you are on the brink of—

"Oh, my—" You let out a broken moan as you reach your climax

Minho keeps moving to chase his high, his nails digging into the flesh on your thighs as he's going impossibly fast, ramming himself into you until he too, finally reaches his high.

Even though he's high in unadulterated pleasure and his brain is foggy because of it, he knows his way to your kiss, he slowly puts himself on top of you and softly places his lips on yours. There's something intimate about this, it feels pure and raw, it's just you and him locked in a chaste kiss.

However, when you break from the kiss, you look at him and say for the umpteenth time, "I hate you, Minho."

Isn't it tiring to lie? Isn't it tiring to keep hiding? But sure, you can say things that go against what you're feeling and betray your own heart as much as you want but Minho isn't one to do that kind of thing.

He holds the side of your face and fiercely looks back into your eyes as he calmly says, "That's too bad because I like you."

-

That makes it the third statement: Minho likes you.

If the other two are the truth then that makes this a lie, right? But, oh well, why bother figuring it out when you've already moved on from that part of life?

It takes a month to adjust to your new apartment and discover some places around your neighborhood like a regular cafe to visit when you need your caffeine fix and a bakery that sells this delicious bagel when you need a breakfast to-go.

There's no denying that you miss Kim from time to time and it feels a little lonely when you come home from work, and that's why you're excited for tonight, you're having the housewarming party that has been postponed twice because Kim got tied with her practice schedule.

Swear to God! You're just excited to meet her again and not at the possibility that you'll meet her boyfriend again.

Since you doubt your skill in cooking, you decide to order some food from Gaspard's recommendations and he also comes early to help set the table.

"You're chipper than usual," he comments as he cleans the table with a cloth.

"Am I? I feel exceptionally normal," you playfully respond.

When the doorbell rings, your heart palpation and you can't even bring yourself to peek through the peephole, you take a deep breath and turn the knob.

"Hi, my darling!" Kim gasps the second you open the door for her and you both exchange a quick, warm hug.

"Oh, I hope you don't mind me bringing a plus one," she adds, opening the door wider to let someone else in.

The excitement fills you to the brim that you feel like you're about to combust but it deflates in a second when you see that she's bringing someone else.

"You remember Astrid?" Kim asks.

You hide your disappointment and put on a smile, "I believe we met at the party," you vaguely remember her from her dirty blonde hair and Kim's fellow dancer.

"Yes, exactly that Astrid," she says as she shakes your hand.

"Please, come in!" You politely say, making a way for your guests to come inside your small apartment.

Gaspard appears to welcome Kim and gives her a quick hug, as if he heard your thoughts, he asks, "I thought you'd be with Minho."

"His car broke down again," Kim sighs as she takes off her coat, "I already told him so many times to buy a new one instead of sending his car to the shop."

This is so infuriating. No matter how much you convince yourself that you don't care about Minho, reality slaps you with the truth. You've been under the illusion that this distance will help you diminish this feeling but you do care, you care a lot.

The party went well or that's what you guessed, you were out of it most of the time, your body was here but your mind was going all over the place.

"You're so quiet," Gaspard comments again as he helps you clean up after Kim and Astrid leave.

"I'm just... sad," you honestly admit but decide to lie about the details, "Soon you'll be leaving too and I'm alone again."

Gaspard slyly smiles at you and leans the side of his body against the wall, "I mean, I can stay with you," he offers.

You scoff and put the dirty glasses into the sink, "Well, then you won't be missing me tomorrow," you say with a pout.

He sighs as he takes your subtle rejection with an open heart, "Are we still on for Sunday brunch?"

"Why? Do you need to cancel?" You jokingly say.

He bumps his shoulder with you as he joins in the kitchen sink to help you with the dishes, "Your treat!"

"Sure. My treat!" You agree with a bump into his shoulder.

A little after eleven, Gaspard left the apartment too with a long hug and a kiss on your cheek. You're going back inside to tidy up a few things while draining the wine from the leftover dinner, chugging it straight from the bottle.

It feels rewarding that you finish the wine by the time you're done cleaning the kitchen and now, you're tired enough to not think of anything else and ready for bed.

As you're about to change out of your dress, you hear the doorbell rings and your first thought is it's Gaspard, because he's done it before and he's shooting his shot for the umpteenth time. You're holding yourself back from laughing and head to the door to open it, unlocking it without checking it through the peephole first.

"What? Do you miss me already?" You jokingly say as you pull open the door.

"Yes," Minho answers without a beat as he's standing in front of you, making your heart race inside your chest and waking the kaleidoscope of butterflies as they start to flutter around in your stomach.

The first thing that comes to your head is what he said to you that night. Minho likes you and you still can't determine this one statement, well, it seems like you need to play another round to know if it's a lie or a truth.

-

Support my works by reblog, comment or consider tipping me on my ko-fi!

@svintsandghosts @abiaswreck @ppiri-bahng @drhsthl @idkluvutellme @biribarabiribbaem @skz-streamer @biancaness @hanjisunginc @elizalabs3 @laylasbunbunny @kpopformylife @caitlyn98s @hann1bee @mamieishere @is2cb97 @marvelous-llama @bluenights1899 @sherryblossom @toplinehyunjin @hanjisbeloved @yourmomscuntis2tighy @sunnyseungup @skz4lifer @stellasays45 @severeanxietyissues @avyskai @imseungminsgf @silentreadersthings @army-stay-noel @rylea08 @simeonswhore @jebetwo @yubinism @devilsmatches @septicrebel @rairacha @cutiespaghetti @ven-fic-recs @hyunjiinnnn @lostgirlinthewoodss @schniti-is-in-the-house @jisunglyricist @9900z

[sturnsmadl]

bf!matt headcannons!

warnings!- swearing, angst (light ig), mostly fluff, some smut, not proof read, lover boy matt tbh, cuddling, kissing, idk what else :).

bf!matt who loves holding hands.

bf!matt who is possessive at parties.

"who's that?"

"some drunk guy. thought i was his girl."

"right.."

kisses you

bf!matt who refuses to let you do anything.

"the laundry.."

"nuh uh. move."

bf!matt who ties your shoelaces for you.

"i can do it matt."

"so can i."

bf!matt who keeps his hands warm in your jeans back pocket.

bf!matt who loves physical touch.

bf!matt who always drags you on late night walks during fall.

"we went last nightt!!"

"babe. fall doesn't last forever."

bf!matt who wipe your tears and hugs you when your upset.

"shh..your okay.."

bf!matt who adores carrying you.

"matt i can walk."

"i knowww. but carrying you is fun."

bf!matt who gets you a cat.

"its for you!"

"is it..?"

"i mean...mainly me..but yeah.."

bf!matt who can't stop touching you.

"matt its too hot. let go."

"your too hot."

"fuck off matt."

laughs

bf!matt who isn't massive on PDA but will do small touches.

bf!matt who loves hooking up in his car.

"fuck...yes baby.."

"matt! yes..fuck! yes!"

bf!matt who gets hard from you just sitting in his lap.

bf!matt who is definite that you're the mother of his children.

"we all have that phase matt."

"its not a phase. she's gonna be the mother of my kids chris."

"okay buddy.."

bf!matt who buys you a lot of makeup.

bf!matt who loves giving you hugs and cuddling.

"hi baby."

"oh hi. your back early huh?"

"yep..cuddles?"

bf!matt who made you your own drawer in his room.

bf!matt who always wants to be helping you.

"okay..lets wash this hair. huh?"

"i can wash it.."

"your tired and i love you so im gonna help."

bf!matt who needs to be near you at all times.

"where'd you go?!"

"to the bathroom.."

"jesus..could've told me.."

"wha- yeah..okay. go to sleep."

bf!matt who sits outside the shower door while you shower.

"and i was thinking. what if i just taught you to drive?"

"do we need to talk about this while im showering?"

bf!matt who loves filming sex tapes, especially backshots.

bf!matt who is extremely moody when you're gone.

"matt can you take the-"

"fuck off!"

"jesus..the fuck happened to you.."

bf!matt who hates arguing but you clearly pushed too far.

"probably my other man."

"what...?"

"what? i was kidding..matt.."

bf!matt who gives you silent treatment all day.

"can we talk..matt? come on.."

bf!matt who just cooks for himself he's so mad.

"you made my favourite? oh.."

walks away with a plate for himself

"fucking hell.."

bf!matt who doesn't pay attention to your apologies.

bf!matt who shoves past you, not realising how strong he is.

bf!matt who feels horrible when he accidentally hurts you.

"ow.."

"oh shit.. sorry baby. im so sorry okay? you're okay.."

bf!matt who finds you crying and is immediatley there.

"hey..is it still hurting? im so sorry.."

"no..im pregnant.."

bf!matt who attacks you with a hug when he finds out your pregnant.

"what?! oh my..oh my god! yes yes yes!"

bf!matt who is obsessed with your bump.

"so cute. a whole life's in there.."

"yep..you excited?"

"so."

bf!matt who is extremely overprotective while your pregnant.

"no!!"

"jesus..what?!"

"i can load the dishwasher. you sit."

"you made it sound like i was commiting a crime.."

bf!matt who always texts you while he's filming/streaming.

"can you put your phone down for 2 minutes??"

"yeah one second.."

"you said that 5 minutes ago!"

bf!matt who lets you force him into doing a tiktok dance with him.

bf!matt who freaks out at the birth.

bf!matt who takes the drive home a bit too carefully.

"babe, i know your nervous but we are barely moving."

"im not hurting the baby. im doing 20.."

"thats the problem."

a/n- this is just general bf matt unlike my others but yeah so this may push me back into my break because its absoulutely awful!! but im thinking of doing a halloween theme, doubt ill pull throught though! im so tired :)

taglist! @bellaonthelow @hrtsdollie @sturnclouds @christophersgf @ellizzyy @moonk1ss3d @phoenix062 @pixxiies @conspiracy-ash @blahbel668 @monroesturnns @gwennybenny @sturnobsessedwh0re @xoxo4chriss @pixie-sticks-are-good @wurlibydominicfike @anitahunt @ilusa @mattstrombolii @stvrlighht @asherrisrandom @amelia-sturniolo3 @lianomer

[abswhore]

Just a friend.

Summary: You both had agreed to see each other as just friends, but your feelings developed into something deeper.

Pairing: college!fwb!abby Anderson x reader

A/N: hello thank you for taking time to read ! , this is my first post I’m really excited so please give me feedback, also like and comment! They is just a test run sort of thing to see how it goes it’ll be maybe 3 parts to this !

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

“I’ll be fine here, go!” You assumed Dina and Nora as you stood at the bar, they had dragged you out of your dorm for a night out but you wasn’t quite feeling it tonight.

You watched as your friends made their way through the pool of people, smiling at them as they danced with each other. You sipped on your drink as you watch not bothering to join them.

A voice from beside you caught your attention, prompting you to look over. And There stood Abby Anderson, the university's star soccer player. "You don’t dance?" she asked.

“No, I’m a horrible dancer.” When you turned to her, you noticed she was leaning in closer, allowing you to take in every detail of her face. She was captivating.

"I'm Abby," she said as she introduced herself. You chuckled softly and nodded, replying, "I know.”

"You know me, but I don't think I know you," she remarked, leaving you wishing you hadn't mentioned that you were familiar with her. "Just joking," she added.

“ I hope I didn’t come off as a stalker I think we share friends.” You added “im y/n.”

"I'm not opposed to having a stalker, especially if they look you," she said, her tone playful and soft. You could feel your cheeks burning as you went quiet, letting the loud music fill the space around you.

Abby sensed the sudden quietness and quickly found a way to redirect the conversation. “So these mutual friends with share, who are they?”

You mentioned the names of several people, and she instantly recognized the group when you said the first name, Ellie Williams.

“Why don't you ever come us when we hang out?" she asked, sipping her drink while keeping her gaze fixed on you.

"I'm usually tied up with work or school," you replied.

"That's too bad; I'd love to see you more often," she teased. "How about we study together sometime?"

"What do you think?" she asked, her voice dipping into a flirtatious tone as your eyes locked. You nodded in response.

"That sounds great," you murmured, just loud enough for her to catch over the booming music, your gaze drifting to her lips.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Abby pushed you against the icy metal of the car door, and as your lips moved perfectly in sync with hers, you realized you had left Dina and Nora behind without a word. Your thoughts were a jumbled mess; one moment you were exchanging flirtatious glances with Abby, and the next, she was pulling you out of the club, almost dragging you along.

The drive to Abby's, which should have taken just ten minutes, seemed to stretch on endlessly as you exchanged messy kisses at every red light. When you finally reached her apartment complex, you both rushed to get inside. You pressed kisses along her neck while she clumsily fumbled with her keys, eager to let you into her home.

You moaned, "Where's your room?" as she finally opened the door, nudging you inside and pressing her hips against your back.

"no room, I wanna fuck you right here on this counter." She murmured in your ear while her hands moved around you, quickly unbuttoning your jeans pulling them down from behind as she moved towards the counter lifting you up placing you on top.

Abby whispered, "pretty," as she slid your panties aside. You gasped loudly when she traced her tongue over your clit, then gently pulled it into her mouth. Your back arched off the counter, and you found yourself gripping a handful of her hair.

The sound of your moans echoed throughout the room as you sensed your hips starting to tense, signaling that your climax was near. “Not yet,” Abby said, rising up and pressing her lips against yours in a messy kiss, allowing you to taste yourself.

You spread your legs wider, feeling her fingers at your entrance as you lock eyes with her. Abby thrusts into you, her two fingers stretching you, and you can't help but cry out, your nails digging into her shoulders.

Abby urged you, her breath warm against your lips, "look at me while I fuck you." As she quickened her rhythm, you matched her movements with your own. "Please, don’t stop," you pleaded, your voice filled with urgency and longing.

The moans grew louder as you reached your peak, your back lifted off the counter. Grasping Abby’s arm feeling your walls tighten around her fingers. Not holding back Abby thruster fasted into you as your body shook, your hand flying to cover your mouth as your chest moved up and down heavily.

Abby smirked as she brought her fingers, coated in your juices , up to your lips, gently tapping your jaw to signal you to open your mouth. As you complied, she slid her fingers inside, slowly pulling them while you savored your own taste.

Abby let out a soft moan as you pulled her into a kiss, and you swiftly hopped down from the counter, shifting your attention to the other woman above you, tugging at her pants. "it's your turn," you whispered, biting your lip in anticipation.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[daycourtofficial]

Wildest Dreams

Summary: Azriel has a dirty dream about you and unbeknownst to him, his shadows begin to act out parts of his dream.

Warnings: smut, dubcon, shadowplay, minors DNI

Author’s note: I might make a part two to this? Uncertain yet. Banner by cafekitsune

You looked so beautiful underneath him, all tied up, your legs spread to give him the perfect view of you. Naked as the day you were born, just waiting for him. He looks at you, watching you squirm underneath his gaze. He takes his time, his eyes roving over every inch of you, drinking you in.

He grabs one of your legs, starting to kiss your ankle, moving his way slowly up your leg, your shuddering breathes causing him to slow his pace the closer he gets to your core. He’s halfway up your thigh when he starts nipping and sucking, wanting to leave a distinct line of marks up your thigh, marking you as his.

He reaches all the way up your thigh, and you are trying so hard to rub his face against yourself. He pins down your hips, moves his face directly in front of your heat and asks, “is this what you want?”

You can feel his words and the vibrations travel through you, heightening every feeling going through you. His mouth is mere inches from you, and he’s getting drunk off the smells of your arousal.

You whimper out a soft “yes”, desperate with need, and he accepts the invitation and his tongue slowly makes it’s way into your folds.

Unbeknownst to Azriel, as he slept a few shadows slipped from under his door and into your room. They searched the room, happy to find you in bed, laying on your back, a flowy nightgown adorning your body.

You were resting with a foot out from under the covers, but most of your legs and torso was covered. One shadow slips back out to retreieve more, while the other two shadows start swirling up your legs, moving the blanket out of their way as they swirl up your body.

More shadows slip in, your unconscious state keeping you from noticing their presence. The shadows dance around you, happy to have found you like this.

Will please master, they whisper to each other.

As you sleep, a few shadows begin sliding up your nightgown, the cool air hardening your nipples quickly. A few other shadows grab your wrists gingerly, holding them above your head gently, but firmly.

Some of the shadows lift up your nightgown, swirling around your hips before beginning to move across your pussy. You moan in your sleep, your hips moving on their accord against the new pleasing presence.

The shadows start exploding with excitement over your noises and even more join the fun. Their excitement comes to a head when they hear you moan out their master’s name, deciding that they know exactly what to do.

Azriel was used to waking up to his shadows wanting to tell him something. Cassian ate a midnight snack or Feyre got up to check on Nyx. Tonight they began chanting your name in his ear, along with the phrase, present for you, master.

Azriel decides to get up, taking a moment to calm his erratic heart rate and his erratic erection. His shadows won’t let him take too long as they start dragging him out of the room, pushing and pulling him towards your room.

He can smell your arousal through the door, sweeter than he had imagined it would be. He opens the door, being met with a sight he knows he’ll never forget.

You’re tied down to the bed by shadows with only your black nightgown covering your body. Hands above your head, shadows encapsulate several of your body parts, keeping you from leaving. Several shadows swarm over your eyes, leaving you without sight.

He can’t stop watching as your hips gírate on the wisps of his shadows, their cool touch causing you to moan in arousal.

He’s frozen in the doorway, unable to move, just watching his shadows recreate the moment from his dream so perfectly, aside from the nightgown. They did call you a present, and perhaps that was the wrapping paper. Then he hears it.

Azriel.

You’re moaning his name, throwing your head back in pleasure, and he can’t hold himself back anymore. Unsure if you’re dreaming or just imagining him, he can’t let your lust and need continue over a fake version of himself. He strides over to your bed, climbing on top of you, his legs in between your spread ones.

The scent of you is burning his nostrils, a scent he wants imprinted on himself forever. He leans forward, grabbing your jaw as his shadows dissipate from your eyes. He strokes his thumb on your jaw, causing your eyes to open.

You look at him, eyes full of lust and uncertainty. His shadows are still keeping you pinned down, and Azriel realizes then that you were having a dirty dream about the two of you.

Your eyes tell him you can’t discern if this is real or not, so he takes the leap both of you have been dancing around for months, neither brave enough to do it.

“Dreaming of me, sweetheart?”

A moan leaves your lips involuntarily, and your face heats red at your position, at him catching you having a sex dream about him.

“It’s okay,” he purrs, lowering himself down so he’s inches from your face. “You should see what we do in my dreams.”

Your eyes look back at him - searching for humor, for insincerity. All you’re met with in return is love, devotion, and hunger.

His mouth reaches for your ears and whispers, “is this okay? My shadows did this while I was asleep.”

A smile graces your lips, “were they acting out your dream?”

He smirks, “it seems so.”

“Then show me what the rest of your dream was.”

[inkchwe]

dancing with our hands tied ↦ sjy

⋆ pairing: sim (jake) jaeyun x fem!reader ⋆ word count: 7.7k ⋆ genre: semi-angst, fluff, smut (18+/mdni!) ⋆ tags: brothersbsf!jake, minor age difference, college au, friends with benefits, secret relationship, light choking, semi-public sex, oral (f + m receiving), fingering penetration, unprotected sex (please practice safe sex folks). ⋆ synopsis: What began as a simple friends-with-benefits situation with your brother's best friend has turned into something deeper, and you now find that your emotions are more complicated than you initially thought. ➸ bless @temptaetions for giving me so much amazing dialogue to work with and @sweetvenomnet for getting me through finishing this monster!

You did not envision Sunday morning sitting across from your brother, concealing the bottom half of your body with your comforter and Jake next to you in bed. Jay’s face is a jumble of shock and anger, fists balled at his sides. You’re unsure if he’s ready to kick his best friend’s ass or throw him out by his neck, or both.

“How the fuck did this fucking happen,” Jay yells.

Well, you think, the beginning is a lot easier to explain than where we’re at now…

The first night you slept with Jake six months ago was like any other. Jay, your older brother by two years, was home with his best friend for the weekend. They had bonded over their freshman year as dorm buddies and Jay immediately inserted Jake into the family. “He’s like the brother I never had,” Jay would say when people would comment on them being attached at the hip.

It was not unusual for the two of them to stay over at your parents’ house when they were back in town. The university was more than three hours away. If they tried to drive home the same day, it would only end in a headache thanks to the rush-hour traffic. 

It was nice to see Jay succeeding though, his footsteps being ones you’d hope to follow in one day. He had it all figured out, while you were anything but decided. Still unsure about what to do now that you had graduated, you chose to stay home and attend community college in the meantime.

But Jay occasionally being back in your presence meant he had to fulfill his annoying brotherly roles, like boring you with tales of campus and admonishing you for risqué outfit choices.

Like that night.

He stopped you short at the door with judgmental eyes scanning up and down your dress. “Absolutely not.”

You scoffed and pushed him out of your way. The dress hugged your curves just right and the color fit your aestethic. You knew when you bought it that the length wasn’t ideal for everyday wear, but it was perfect for a night out. Jay wouldn’t tell you otherwise. “You don’t have to act like Dad, dude.”

“Listen,” he said, rolling his eyes. “We all know you’re a woman. You don’t need to prove it with a little black dress.”

“Unless you’re blind, this dress is blue,” you mocked him.

“You know what I mean, smart-ass! You’re not leaving wearing that!”

“What’s going on,” Jake called from the kitchen.

“My sister’s about to walk out of the house in a napkin,” Jay responded, sarcasm dripping from his mouth.

“You’re such a prick,” you said, crossing your arms.

Jake sauntered into the sitting room, a bag of chips in his hand. He was taken back by the outfit, his eyes slowly trailing down your body. His Adam’s apple bobbed as Jay continued on his tirade about modesty to nobody but the air.

“You look pretty,” Jake said finally. He popped a chip in his mouth.

Your cheeks turned red instantly. Jay’s best friend wasn’t unattractive to look at, not in the slightest, so hearing him say such a thing even in quick passing made your body tense.

Before you could thank him for the compliment, Jay coughed like he swallowed his own spit.

“Did you just say she looks pretty?” Jay asked in his best friend’s direction.

Jake chomped down on another chip. “What,” he said, his mouth full.

“If I heard that right, you just said my sister looks pretty in her dress.”

“Yes?” Jake’s expression morphed into confusion as your brother’s face went pale.

“Do you have a death wish?” Jay asked.

“Bro, c’mon—”

“No, seriously. Do you?”

You backed up towards the door, making sure not to clack your heels too hard on the tile to be noticed.

Jay, however, sensed your escape. “I meant it! You’re not leaving without putting something else on.”

“Seongie, stop being an asshole. I’m gonna be late,” you whined.

“Dude, all I said was that she looked pretty,” Jake butted in.

Jay turned his focus back to him. “You said the girl you fucked at that club on Fifth was pretty.”

“Bro, I’m not gonna fuck—” Jake ran his free hand through his hair, smiling in incredulity at the ridiculous conversation. “Just trust me.”

“Finish that sentence.”

Jake scoffed, mouth agape. “What the hell, man?”

“Finish. The. Sentence. Jaeyun.”

“Okay, if you’re done being weirdly overprotective and Jaeyun’s done taking back his compliment, I have a happy hour to go to.”

Jay was so preoccupied with Jake at that point that he barely registered your words and your exit from the house. Before he could protest again, Jake interrupted him.

“I’m not going to fuck your sister, Jong,” he says.

“Thanks, that’s reassuring,” Jay responded.

As you closed the door, you heard Jake say, “But if she fucks me, that’s a different story.”

Despite walking down the cobblestone pathway, you heard Jake’s cries from your older brother whacking him. Jay screamed, “You sick fuck!”

Your cheeks felt hot when you finally got inside of your friend’s car. You greeted them with a smile when you sat in the back seat, but your mind kept playing back Jake’s words. He must have had enough pickings on campus and in his hometown to keep him satisfied. He didn’t need to put his effort or interest in you. There’s no way that he would, right?

Five hours later, the clock just shy of 1 AM, you stepped quietly inside to not wake your parents. Tiptoeing up the stairs to your room, you didn’t see Jay’s bedroom light on, certain he was fast asleep. That gave you some relief knowing he didn’t stick around to admonish you for not listening to his forceful advice.

What you weren’t expecting was Jake to be sprawled out on your bed, his body akin to a limp starfish. He had been scrolling endlessly through his Instagram feed until you creaked open the door to your room.

A silent scream jolted your pulse. “Jaeyun, what the fuck are you doing here?” you asked.

“Jongseong told me to wait for you. He wanted to make sure you got home safe,” Jake said absentmindedly, like being in your bed is a natural occurrence by now.

You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes. “Helicopter Himbo couldn’t do that himself?”

“He linked up with some girl he knows…Dahyun I think was her name?”

You sighed. Of course Jay had to hook up with his high school ex when he had no other options to exhaust. You thought Jay had higher standards than that at this point in his life, but he was still Jay.

You nodded. The soles of your feet throbbed from wearing your heels longer than you intended to. You tried to hide the pain on your face, but Jake was quick to walk over to you and feign concern.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Yeah. I’m just slightly buzzed and I’d like to see the inside of my eyelids and forget how bad my feet hurt right now.” You released a breathless laugh. “You can text my doofus of a brother and tell him I’m in one piece.” 

You practically motioned your head towards the door, but Jake only smirked in response.

“Well, first things first, let’s take these off.” Before you knew it, Jake leaned down and began unbuckling the clasps of your stilettos for you. The sight made the alcoholic buzz running through your veins mutate into something sensual. You felt the ache between your legs as Jake’s fingers caressed the skin of your ankle as he was taking off your shoes for you, and immediately you remembered who he was.

This was wrong, and in no way going to happen. Not with someone who your brother confided in and loved so dearly. No matter how it felt every time you looked at him, or if he did intimate things like this that made you question everything.

“I meant what I said earlier you know,” Jake whispered. “And I wasn’t trying to take it back when Jongseong was grilling me about it.”

“I get it. He can be intense sometimes,” you mumbled.

“But you did look pretty. Fuck, you still do.” Jake chuckled to himself and positioned your feet out of the shoes and onto the carpet floor. The fabric felt cool against your toes, and instinctively you released a pleasurable sigh.

“So much better,” you moaned, smiling. “Thank you.”

Jake stood up, his grin infectious. “My pleasure.”

Neither of you moved, and admittedly you were glad Jake hadn’t made his exit yet. In the blur between your gratitude and onslaught of confusing feelings, the tether between your head and your body loosened. 

Then you were kissing him. You were kissing your brother’s best friend and enjoying it very much, an amalgamation of all the passing glances you threw at him when Jay wasn’t looking and the semi-flirty conversations coming to a head in your lips and tongue.

Jake was kissing you back with the same fervor, his hands roaming to the curve of your ass and groaning in your mouth at the sensation of your bodies touching.

“Fuck,” Jake swore and pulled you in tighter, clutching at the hem of your dress.

In a tangle of fingers and lips, you almost didn’t register the feeling of your mattress against your back and the cool air on your skin when Jake pulled the dress down your body. But you did relish in the feeling of his tongue between your legs and how deliciously he slipped inside of you afterwards. And by that point, there was no time to regret and worry about what would happen next. All that mattered was the present and savoring it.

Three weeks after that first encounter, it was easy to forget it ever happened. The next morning, Jay and Jake had gone back to campus without a word. That was normal for them, seeing as they woke early and didn’t want to disturb anyone in the house.

For you, it was a bit disheartening, but it proved exactly what you knew. It was a mistake and a potential repeat was nonexistent. “Jeong’ll never find out and this can stay buried,” you told yourself.

Jay was too busy with his studies to respond with anything but one-word answers to your texts after that, so you gave up initiating anything. Jake, however, began texting you often to either greet you in the morning or say he hoped you were having a good day. It was sweet, but you didn’t read too deep into it. You replied in kind and left it at that.

Then, the boys came back one Friday afternoon in Jake’s Tahoe, and your nerves were live wires at their impromptu arrival. You had not seen Jake since that night in your bedroom. You felt the heaviness of guilt when you welcomed Jay home with a hug. A secret shouldn’t have had the power to eat you alive,  but it did all the same.

And it didn’t help seeing Jake either. His smile took you back to the hours you had spent together in your bed. It was a kaleidoscope of memories. His hands on your hips, his whispers in your ear, his mouth in between your legs— 

“Yo!” Jay waved his hand in front of your face. “I asked if you could help us with the last duffel bag.”

“Yeah, of course,” you said, walking over to the trunk. Jake’s shoulder brushed yours as you moved past him, and you couldn’t help the way your breath hitched. If you weren’t deluding yourself, you could’ve sworn you heard his throat catch in the same way.

You decided to leave the house that night, meeting up with a classmate to take your mind off of what was waiting at home. The Uber driver was polite, not bothering you as you were lost in your thoughts. Thankfully, the tequila sunrise you gulped down numbed your thought processes long enough that you could unwind and converse without rambling on about the situation you were in.

Then, you heard the ping of your phone and saw Jake’s message light up the screen.

Received at 11:23 PM: I’m picking you up. JS doesn’t want you taking an Uber when you’re not sober.

You sighed and typed back a reply with the hand not holding your drink. The words might have been mistyped, but you knew the message would get across to him.

Sent at 11:27 PM: im find u dont ned to come th last guy w nice.

Received at 11:29 PM: Sure. I’ll be there in 15.

You groaned. Jake could be as stubborn as your brother; it was no surprise the two of them became such good friends.

When Jake’s arrival came closer, you said goodbye and walked out of the bar, kicking your feet on the sidewalk gravel while you waited.

His truck’s lights came into full view a minute later. You got inside without a word, leaning your forehead against the passenger window. Just because he was being stubborn didn’t mean you had to be okay with it.

“Have fun?” Jake kept his focus on the road, but he sounded sincere when he asked about your night. While your heart swelled at the tone of his voice, it made the thoughts you tried so hard to suppress creep back in with full force. You were at a loss as to what to say. Honesty was off the table, but you weren’t capable of pulling your heart from your sleeve.

“I was. Not anymore.” You pouted.

You didn’t let him respond to your comment, instead looking around at his car’s interior and changing the subject. “I didn’t expect you to own a Tahoe.”

“What do you mean?” He asked with a chuckle.

“It’s so much space for one person.”

“Well, it was my dad’s truck. He gave it to me before I left for school. Now, I use it to go hiking and stuff with my dog, Layla.”

You smiled and leaned into the seat, looking at him. “That’s hard to believe.”

“That I have a dog or that I actually do physical activity? You’ve seen my body.”

You giggled and turned away. “I guess both. I’ve always wanted a dog, but Jungseong’s allergic. My parents thought plushies were a good compromise. And it all makes sense now. You can’t be that handsome naturally.”

Jake laughed harder. Without warning, he put his hand on your thigh, the feeling foreign yet incredibly welcome. You hummed in pleasure at the sensation. While you would’ve loved to enjoy the moment, your logic kicked in at the scene playing out in front of you.

“Jaeyun, you can’t just do that.”

“Why not? I wanted to,” he confessed, squeezing the curve of your knee. He moved his hand slowly across your skin.

You bit your lip and shook your head. “Just because you want to doesn’t mean you should.”

“Are we still talking about my hand or something else?” You gave him a stern but cutting look, the Are you kidding me evident in your eyes. It made Jake curse into the open air. “Fuck this.”

Jake pulled off into a vacant parking lot of a convenience store, one lamppost barely lighting the surrounding area. He put the car in park with an aggressive fist on the stick shift.

“Okay,” he started. “You want to talk about that night? Let’s talk about it.”

He inhaled a breath. You were terrified of what was unsaid and what he planned on saying, but you knew it was better to put it to rest sooner rather than later.

“I’m not sorry for what happened that night. I liked it and I liked you.” He looked directly into your eyes, his pupils dilating with extreme vulnerability. “I like you. And I’d like to repeat that night as many times as you want, but you’re my best friend’s sister and I don’t know how to accept those two things being true at once.”

You were taken back, his words the ones you wish you could have said to him before he left that morning. You tried to stamp down the truth many times since then, but Jake feeling the exact same way made you realize it wasn’t wrong to want what you wanted.

And Jay didn’t have to know everything.

“I do too,” you responded. “I like you too, and that night is all I’ve been thinking about.” You felt the knot in your stomach loosen, smiling in surprise from his confession. “And I would like to have more of those nights, for sure. In more than just my bed.”

Jake smirked and leaned in closer to you, lips ghosting over yours. “So if I said I wanted to fuck you in my car, you’d let me?”

You didn’t respond to that question with words, both of you knowing the question itself was rhetorical. You pressed your mouth to his hard.

The kiss was a clash of teeth and tongue, the act a desperate plea to pull each other closer after weeks of not being together. Now that you had Jake where you wanted him, you weren’t letting him go. 

Jake palmed one of your breasts over your shirt, and you partially broke away from his mouth to moan. He swallowed it, tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth.

“You like that?” Jake asked, his voice husky.

“Fuck yes,” you said, knowing it was the truth. Nothing felt better than his touch on your skin.

He grabbed the side of your throat with his free palm. The other was hovering over the waistband of your shorts, his thumbs deftly unbuttoning them and dragging the zipper down.

“Tell me now if you don’t want this,” he panted. “And I swear I’ll stop.”

You shook your head vigorously. “If you stop right now, Jaeyun, I might just have to kill you.”

Jake gave you a crooked smile and kissed you again, harder than the first time but just as pleasurable.

His fingers dipped into your underwear, and you both groaned when he found your clit. He was surprised that the little amount of foreplay already made you this wet. You were just glad to have his fingers where you needed them the most.

You moved your hips in rhythm with his digits, the figure-eight patterns he was drawing into your skin creating stars behind your eyes. You released numerous whimpers and gasps into Jake’s mouth as he kept rubbing up and down your pussy, your clit receiving the most attention.

But it wasn’t enough.

“Jaeyun, I need you inside of me, please,” you begged. You gripped onto his shirt tightly to emphasize how bad the desire was to feel him stretch you open.

He nipped your lips again. “Climb in the back seat, baby.”

Jake followed in suit as soon as you moved from the passenger seat to the back. Once he sat down, you had his pants around his ankles and the head of his dick lined up with your entrance, your panties moved to the side to make room for him.

The fullness of his cock filling you to the hilt made your eyelids flutter. Jake knocked the back of his head into one of the headrests, the groan that left his mouth so beautiful you wished you could’ve replayed the sound on loop.

“God, you’re so tight.” He pushed his hips up further into you, the tip kissing your cervix. “It’s fucking incredible.”

You moaned in agreement. Beginning to grind his hips into yours, you licked and sucked the spot behind Jaeyun’s ear. You remembered how much he loved it the first night you had sex, and he loved it even more now that you were partially in control riding him.

He bucked up into you here and there, but for the most part, you were setting the pace. The sounds of your skin slapping against each other as well as both of your moan-laced expletives filled the back seat.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Bounce on this cock. Show me how much you want me.” He trapped your hips with his hands, holding on tight as you continued to grind against him.

“I want to come so bad, Jae,” you gasped. “Please make me come.”

Jake took his index and middle finger and found your clit again. He circled the nub with tenderness as you continued to ride him without mercy. He knew he could come at anytime with how well you were touching him and taking all of him inside of you, but he had no problem waiting until you found your pleasure first.

You felt the orgasm creeping up on you, starting in the pit of your stomach and ready to come to the surface. You begin to grow sloppy with your rhythm, and Jake took extra effort with his fingers to push you over the edge.

“Let go for me, love. Come all over me.”

You cried out, clutching onto Jake’s hair hard as you rode out your orgasm to its full capacity. Jake let go in that same moment, painting your insides white and cursing the entire time at how good it felt.

When you sat down next to him in the back seat, both of you sated and breathless, you knew the path forward was uncertain. And sure, a million questions still lingered in your mind, but you stored them away without a second thought, refusing to let them ruin your current happiness.

This led to where you were with Jake for the past six months, having sex every time he was in town and even sneaking off to visit him when you had the chance. He would pick you up in his truck and hold your hand across the console the entire drive to and from his student apartment. The two of you were skilled at keeping your trysts out of sight from Jay both in your hometown and on campus, the local spots he wanted to take you to and your favorite hometown stores not ones Jay frequented often.

At the same time, Jay had gotten back into a relationship with Dahyun, but you were optimistic for the both of them this time around. He seemed to be really happy, as were you, although he didn’t know the reason why. Dahyun would hang out with the guys and you when she got off work, and the four of you would drink and watch movies together like any other couples would.

The only part that didn’t fit such a picture perfect image was the fact you and Jake were not a couple at all. You slept together and did most things boyfriends and girlfriends did, but there were no labels. It was as if saying it out loud would make it real, and then you’d have to confront the biggest hurdle of all: telling your brother. And you were determined to put that off for as long as possible.

One morning, as you made breakfast in the kitchen for all three of you, Jake slid in behind you without you noticing. You gasped, feeling his chest against your back. “Jae, you can’t do that!”

“Couldn’t help it. Smelled pretty good in here,” Jake responded, kissing the spot that joined your neck and shoulder together, his hair tickling your ear in the process.

“I know, I can’t wait to eat it.”

“I was gonna say the same thing.” Jake smirked.

“Jae,” you reprimanded him, grinning. “Jongseong could come down at any second.”

“But he’s not. Last time I checked, he was still asleep.” The curve of his lips touched your collarbone, making you shiver.

“And when was that?”

In that moment, you both heard Jay yelling “I did it!” in tandem with his quick steps down the staircase. You both split apart in record time. Jake pretended he was searching for a drink in the fridge while you flipped the fried egg in the pan.

“I finally did it,” Jay exclaimed, a wide smile on his face directed at Jake.

“Did what?” Jake asked.

“I got you a date with Dahyun’s cousin Jihyo tonight. Dahyun’s been dying to go out to this new restaurant downtown, and I know you’ve been lacking in the pussy department lately.” You felt the saliva in the back of your mouth hit the wrong pipe, and you coughed.

“You okay, sis?” Jay asked, grabbing you by the shoulder.

“Yeah. Just choked for a second, sorry.” There was nothing wrong with Jake going out; he had no obligations to you. Yet, at the same time, the thought of him finding someone new felt like acid on your tongue.

Jay turned back to Jake, excitement filling his features again. “Come on man, you haven’t picked anyone up in what? Five months? Either your game got terrible or you’ve been holding out on me about some new chick.”

You plopped the fried egg on the plate next to you and motioned for Jake to pick it up. “Over medium, how you like it.”

“How do you know his egg order, freak?” Jay questioned you with a chuckle.

“I asked him this morning, dingbat. While you were snoring in your room and told me to leave so you could get your beauty rest.” Jay gave you the middle finger but you didn’t pay attention to him. You looked back at Jake with shy eyes. “You want toast?”

“No thank you,” Jake said with a smile that didn’t meet his eyes. You could tell when Jake was uncomfortable. His entire body grew stiff at the thought of being roped into a double date with a stranger.

But, avoiding suspicion, Jake said, “Sure man. Can’t promise I’ll be into her, though.”

Jay smiled and patted his friend on the shoulder. “I’ll take it.”

When Jay ran back upstairs to call Dahyun with the news, Jake dropped his plate back on the counter. He suddenly pinned you against it with his hands on your waist, forcing you to look at him. “I don’t have to go on this date if you don’t want me to.”

You shook your head, the faintest frown on your face, hoping it looked more like an expression of indifference. “If you don’t, Seongie’s going to ask more questions. Besides, we’re not together. You don’t have to ask for my permission.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.” He furrowed his eyebrows. If there was one emotion you didn’t show him often, it was ice. But if the alternative was being emotionally exposed in that moment, you would choose the former.

“You know what I mean.” You broke free from his grasp, swallowing the bitter taste in your mouth. You turned off the stove and threw the sizzling pan into the sink. “Hope you have fun.”

Jake waited for you to elaborate, but after a minute of silence, he admitted his defeat and walked out of the kitchen. It cracked a piece of your heart to be so cold, but what other choices were on the table?

Once he was gone, you grabbed your phone from your pocket. Typing out the number in your mind and pressing the call button, you hoped the man you were looking for answered.

“Sunghoon?” You spoke, relieved he picked up. “I need a huge favor.”

“Do I have to?” Sunghoon groaned, straightening the collar of his polo shirt. “This is so ridiculous.”

“Hold my fucking hand, Hoon, or I swear to god I will tell Professor Choi you used my essay on Machiavelli for your paper.”

He released a low, agitated sound and put his hand in yours, squeezing your palm in retaliation. You smiled and walked into the restaurant. 

You didn’t go all out with your outfit. A simple dress and denim jacket fit with the atmosphere of the Brazilian barbecue joint Dahyun wanted to check out. Sunghoon also followed your instructions to the letter, looking presentable without trying too hard.

The hostess made you both wait fifteen minutes or so for a table. Even at 9 PM on a Saturday, past normal dinner time for most folks, the business was still bustling due to the word of mouth from their grand opening a week ago. It didn’t take long though for you to find Jay and Jake sitting at a table in a corner booth. It was like Jake’s presence in any tiny or expansive space was a magnet, pulling you in without giving you space to put up a fight.

“So that’s the guy,” Sunghoon stated, staring at Jake next to your brother. “He’s cute. I see why you’re in love with him.”

“Shut up!” You laughed and smacked him in the chest. He pretended to act hurt, smiling the entire time.

Your Humanities classmate might have been too sarcastic and vain for his own good, but you knew he was a good friend and would always come if you called. And while it was purely platonic, he didn’t mind playing the part of the arm candy for another free essay.

In the midst of your shared laughter, neither of you saw both Jay and Jake walking over to you. Jay’s cough pulled you out of your trance, and you stood stock still at the sight of Jake’s clenched jaw and crossed arms, immediately dropping Sunghoon’s hand in the process.

Jay said your name in annoyance. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Hoon and I have class together, but we decided to have dinner after studying,” you say with a smile. “Funny we’d be at the same place as you guys!”

“You have my location, dipshit,” Jay said with a stone face.

“Just because I have it doesn’t mean I look at it,” you said in your defense.

Hoon held his hand out to both men, but you knew it was bait specifically meant for Jake. “Nice to meet you.”

Jake clenched his jaw even tighter. You thought he would break the bottom half of his face if he kept it up. To your surprise, he grabbed Sunghoon’s hand like a pure gentleman. Jay did the same.

You immediately felt so small. It didn’t have to be this way, trying to pull a front for this guy that wasn’t even yours. If it took this much effort to be exclusive, a title you didn’t fight for to begin with, maybe it wasn’t meant to be.

When Sunghoon let go of Jay’s hand, you grabbed him by the bicep. “We can just go somewhere else. We’ll probably wait another hour before getting a table if we stay, anyway.”

Jay agreed. “I had to book this in advance, so she’s probably right.”

Jake looked directly in your eyes when he said, “Hope you have fun.” Mirroring your words from earlier, Jake’s were laced with spiteful sarcasm.

Sunghoon put a hand on the small of your back and guided the two of you out of the restaurant. It took everything in you to not turn back and reveal it all in that stupid restaurant, but you circled back to your initial thoughts. What would it do attempting to claim him now? It was already pointless.

You didn’t make it home until midnight, spending the night scarfing down Chinese with Sunghoon in his apartment and watching old seasons of New Girl together. It was a bitch thinking about what it would be like when you got home. Jay would quiz you on Sunghoon and his motives or Jake would get defensive on what you were doing with the guy to begin with. Or both.

The last piece of advice Sunghoon left you with as he drove off was to “be honest” with Jake, if that was any bit as simple as it sounded coming out of his mouth.

You stepped inside your house without a care for your noise level, knowing your parents were off on an overseas conference for four days. And what were the chances the guys had gotten home by now?

 But, like the first night you had spent together, Jake was waiting up for you in your room, sitting stock straight with his hands in his lap.

You didn’t freak out or feel shocked by his presence. You were glad to see him actually, but greeting him with anything but a hello would have been inappropriate given the last few hours.

“Hi,” you began.

“Why have you been gone so long?” His voice was clipped, matter-of-fact but laced with authority. The mixture of sadness and anger in his face surprised you. Jake was always fun, silly, casual…never like this.

“I lost track of time.” It was the easiest answer to give him, even if it wasn’t enough to assuage his concerns. “We just ate takeout and watched sitcoms.”

He nodded and stood up. Walking closer to you, the emotions on his face registered to you so clearly now. The anger was simply misplaced pain, unsure where to go but in front of you for an answer. “What do you want from me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m asking you what this is, what are we doing here?” He ran a hand through his hair. “Seeing you tonight with that dickhead was all I thought about while eating that churrasco and listening to Jay’s dumb jokes. And if that’s against some unspoken rule, I need to know.”

You gulped down a heavy bubble of air. It was now or never. Choose to either lose the guy you had spent so much time with by keeping your feelings to yourself or risk him breaking your heart by being vulnerable.

“I don’t want you going on dates with anyone else.” You beginning with that wasn’t perfect, but you were out of ideas.

He nodded. “Okay.”

“Sunghoon’s a friend, but you’re my best friend. And you make me feel like nobody else ever has.” Your lip quivered. “I feel like an idiot for not saying it before, but I’ve liked you since the second Jay introduced all of us to you. And maybe all you want out of this is exclusive sex and I’m even more of an idiot for saying all of this but—”

Jake caught your mouth in a perfect kiss, effectively shutting you up. A tear passed between your lips, but he was all you tasted. He pressed his forehead to yours, eyes bright and expression full of mirth. “You’re a beautiful idiot, but still an idiot for not realizing I feel the same..”

You gasped. Grabbing his shirt, you pulled him back in hungrily.

The subsequent kisses and touches were ripe with the things you didn’t know how to say in words but could easily express with your body. Every kiss on his jaw told him how enraptured he made you feel. Each pass of your hands exploring his naked skin expressed why you saw nobody but him in the most crowded room. And when you took him into your mouth, you hoped Jake knew why it was so easy to fall for him and want nobody else.

“Just like that,” he said, tenderly grabbing your hair as you stroked what you couldn’t fit past your lips.

It didn’t last long. Jake pulled you in his arms and said, “I want to be inside you.” 

Jake held you as you sunk down onto him. Your legs were wrapped around his waist as he sat on the edge of the bed, rocking his hips up into you. No matter how many times you had sex, it still felt incredible feeling all of him fitting around the spaces inside of you. You wished he could occupy them forever.

“Fuck,” you exclaimed, clutching the hair at the nape of his neck. Your bodies were slick, foreheads touching but slippery from perspiration.

But it didn’t matter how loud you were being or how sweaty your skin became. All you could focus on was the words that came out of Jake’s mouth. “God, I love you so much.”

It didn’t make you slow down, instead riding him faster and kissing him fervently in response. You mewled into his mouth, feeling yourself coming undone quickly.

“I’m gonna come,” you announced.

“Right there with you, sweetheart. Come with me,” he said, and so you did. You felt the warmth of him inside of you in tandem with the downfall of your orgasm, siphoning every drop until you were spent.

When you were lying next to each other, however, you remembered those three little words that slipped from his mouth.

“You said you loved me,” you stated in post-coitus bliss, covering half of your face with your comforter.

“So what if I did?” He was glowing, and it only made you smile harder. “So what if I do?”

You smirked and pecked his lips sweetly, nipping his bottom lip. “I love you too, you goof.”

You woke up next to each other that morning, both in a euphoric daze despite your fatigue. You also took into account how you now held the title of Jake’s girlfriend, a majority of the reason why you were a thousand leagues above cloud nine. Jake showed his joy in the form of his tongue pressed to your clit. 

But it didn’t last for long.

You weren’t fast enough to cover yourself when Jay barged in asking whether or not you had seen Jake at all. Little did he know he would find his best friend in the last place he ever expected.

Which led to now, your brother interrogating the two of you like you committed the worst crime humanly possible. In a way, you could see why he would think such a thing.

“So you kiss my sister—” Jay starts.

You cut him off, grabbing Jake’s hand. “I kissed him first.”

“Then you decide to hook up in my car.”

“It was actually my car.” Jake counters, squeezing your fingers with his own.

“And now I find you guys here in your room”—Jay looks directly at you—“just doing whatever the fuck you were doing before I came in.” His face is red from the shock. “How long has this been going on?”

“Six months,” Jake says.

Jay takes a deep breath of air into his lungs, his body rising and falling at a rapid rate. He’s probably grateful your parents can’t hear him yelling. Otherwise they’d come in and ask more invasive questions while you’re not in the position to answer them, half naked and all.

“And where was I while you guys were fucking behind my back?” Jay asks, darting his eyes between the both of you.

“Hanging out between Dahyun’s legs?” You hypothesize, throwing your other hand in the air. “How the hell are we supposed to remember?”

“And you expect me to believe you kissed his scrawny ass first?” Jay asks you.

“Dude, you’ve seen me shirtless,” Jake remarks, rolling his eyes.

 “True, but it’s not much of a show, bro.”

“Seriously, this is not the point!” You yell, placing your face in your hands.

“Yes it is! You’re my sister!”

“And she’s my girlfriend,” Jake interrupts, “so you need to get your head out of your ass and stop acting like she’s not capable of taking care of herself.”

Jake stands up to Jay, the two of them face to face with each other in a way you expected when your relationship came out of the shadows. You don’t want Jay to feel betrayed, but at the same time, it will kill you if Jake gets hurt trying to stick up for you.

“My priority will always be looking out for my family.” Jay turns to you, disappointment clear as day in his eyes. “No matter how I’ve shown it, I didn’t expect to be branded the bad guy for wanting to protect you.”

Jay slams the door on his way out. Tears prick your eyes, silence permeating the bedroom.

Jake sits back down next to you and places a few kisses on the curve of your shoulder. “Believe it or not, but I think he took it better than I thought he would.”

“He hates me,” you sob.

“He doesn’t hate you. Maybe me, but never you.” Jake takes your hand and kisses the inside of your palm, tucking it gingerly between his fingers. “Nobody could ever hate you.”

“I need to fix this, though.” You swiftly kiss Jake’s lips before standing up to get dressed, throwing on a pair of gym shorts and one of his shirts you stole. When you go to Jay’s room, it’s empty. But you hear the faint notes of a guitar from somewhere on the first floor of the house.

You walk down the stairs to find Jay strumming his favorite Yamaha in the living room, the one your father brought home from a trip to Japan for Jay as his graduation present. You step towards his spot on the couch quietly, but he’s already too adept at sensing your presence. He stops playing but says nothing.

“Hey,” you say.

“Don’t.” Jay’s voice is gruff. “Don’t ‘hey’ me right now.”

“Well, if you’re looking for an apology, I’m not going to give you one.”

The two of you are silent, unsure where to take the conversation next. What was there to say? Yes, you felt guilty for keeping Jay in the dark, but either way, the situation would hurt him. His best friend and his younger sister falling in love is not ideal, but feelings couldn’t be fought. All the same, the deceit sat in your stomach like a stone, begging to be thrown away.

You sigh and sit down on the love-seat, adjacent to Jay’s spot on the couch. “I really like him, Seongie,” you confess. “No. I, actually—I love him.”

Jay looks directly at you for the first time, his eyes a bit puffy. “Are you happy?”

“What?”

“Are you happy? Does he treat you well?”

You laugh. “I mean we’ve only been a couple for about 12 hours, so—”

“You know what I mean, asshat.” The two of you share a laugh together, the mood much lighter than before. “Do you see a future with him?”

You nod. “Yeah, I do.”

“Then I can’t get in between that. I just wish one of you would’ve fucking said something.”

“And I would’ve, but you know Jaeyun.”

Jay nods. “He’s a wimp.”

“No,” you shake your head, smiling. “He just didn’t want to hurt you either. He loves you, and I love you, too.” You run a hand through your hair, contemplating your next words. “I’m just not a baby anymore, Jongseong. I know how to handle things.”

Jay nods, sniffling. “I know. It’s just…hard.”

“What is?”

He puts his guitar by his side. Clapping his hands together, he tries to brush off whatever emotion is surfacing. “It’s nothing, I don’t know. Stupid, probably.”

You move positions to sit closer to your brother, placing a hand on his knee. “Nothing you say to me could ever be stupid.”

He knocks you in the shoulder with his fist lightly. “It’s just—when did you get so grown up? You gotta stop doing that.”

“If I did, I’d be dead.”

“True.” Jay chuckles. “I’m sorry for freaking out.”

“I’m sorry for keeping it from you. And I hope you and Jaeyun can talk, too.”

“We will. For now, I’m just glad we did.”

Nodding, you open your arms for a hug, a hug that Jay gladly accepts. It’s a tight one that encompasses both a white flag of retreat and a sincere love for you that you forget to remember sometimes in the midst of his teasing and admonishment. You now know, more than ever, it’s his way of protecting you and proving he cares.

And you’re grateful to have both him and now Jake by your side through all your successes and slip-ups.

“You don’t seriously think I’m okay with you wearing that dress again now that you have a boyfriend, right,” Jay asks. “I’m even more against it because Jake will have a heart attack.”

You chuckle and twirl in the mirror, checking the back of your dress to make sure it’s sitting right on you. “He thought I looked pretty in it the first time.”

“Well now, he’s not worried about you looking pretty. He’s worried about other douchebags checking you out.” Jay flips the page of his book, trying to feign a nonchalant expression. “I’m just saying, he’s still my best friend. I know things.”

You poke your tongue out at your brother. The doorbell rings and you rush to answer, your heart beating at a vigorous pace in your chest.

Once you open the door, Jake’s standing there with a bouquet of flowers and a lopsided grin on his face. When he sees your dress, however, his smile falters a fraction.

“Oh my god, Jay was right!”

“I usually am,” Jay yells from his space in the sitting room armchair.

Jake looks confused, but the realization dawns on him in a flash. “No, you look beautiful. It’s just…a bit short, don’t you think?”

You pout, crossing your arms. “I spent so much time getting ready, Jae.”

“I know, sweetheart.” He takes his free hand and rests it on your hip. “And everyone will be able to see that. I just don’t want to have to fight anyone off at the restaurant.”

You giggle. Going in for an impromptu kiss, you smell the traces of his cologne. The scent could make your knees buckle, but you try to stay confident and lull your boyfriend into submission. “I’ll only be looking at you. And I can defend myself just fine, baby.”

Jake’s bottom lip juts out. “So, I can’t convince you to change?”

You shake your head, grinning.

Jay sneaks up behind you, making you gasp. “If she isn’t gonna listen to her brother, she’s definitely not gonna listen to you, man.”

Jay and Jake exchange a handshake. You’re relieved their relationship has recovered from the reveal of your relationship, but you know that means they have the potential to gang up on you more out of their misguided sense of protection.

“I have the advantage though. She’s in love with me,” Jake sing-songs, kissing you on the cheek after doing so.

“Regardless,” you say, “I’m wearing the dress.”

Jay rolls his eyes. “Just change, for fuck’s sake.”

Jake nods. “Pretty please?”

“Not a chance in hell, boys.”

[joelslastofus]

[SUMMARY: Joel is locked out of his house drunk and knocks on your door for help thinking your father is home.]

Smut

“What do you want me to say? That I can’t stop thinkin’ about how wet I made you-“ his words shocking you as he cornered you back against the wall.

It was Saturday night and as usual you stood home alone while your parents went out and about. It wasn’t too bad, you always found something to entertain yourself with but for some reason this Saturday was extra boring. Your neighbor Sarah and you would usually get together, two college girls who loved to take on the city on your free time but she happened to be out of town for the weekend.

Flipping through the channels you sighed when your doorbell suddenly rang.

“Who the hell?” You uttered to yourself as you peaked through the side window to see none other than Joel Miller at your door.

Once you did open the door you realized something seemed a bit off with him. His hand leaning on the wall beside your door as he looked up at you, you could already see it.

The man was drunk.

“Hi honey, your daddy home…?” The smell of whiskey coming into instant contact with you.

“Um no, sorry. He’s out for a few hours”

“Shit” he brushed his hand through his waves in frustration.

“Is there something I could do for you?” His hands placed on his hips he took a deep breath before stumbling to the side.

“You alright?” You took a step forward as he slowly looked up at you.

“I locked myself out of my damn house, wanted to see…if I could stay here till Tommy gets back but I don’t think your dad would appreciate me staying with you alone for a few hours.” The thought secretly exciting you. Everyone had a crush on Sarah’s dad.

“It’s alright…I’ll figure it out” he began to turn away until you stopped him.

“I dont think my dad would mind” you lied.

“I don’t know honey-“

“How long have we known you Joel?” You responded making him smirk.

“Besides, I’m sure Sarah is gonna get a good laugh out of this” you chuckled as you stepped aside to let him in before closing the door.

“Oh yeah, finally get a night to myself and lock my ass out” he followed you to the kitchen being careful not to run into anything.

“Well like she says, must be your age old man” you teased as you opened the fridge.

“Hey, I ain’t that old.” Joel stood on the other end of the island leaning forward watching as you searched your fridge till you pulled out a bottle of water.

“I’m not the one who said it” you turned to him with a playful look as you placed the water bottle before him. He squinted his eyes with a smile before taking a sip.

“So you don’t think I’m an old man?”

“Now why would I think that?” You crossed your arms leaning back against the fridge noticing his eyes quickly take in the view of your body. A satin pink robe tied around your waist with shorts and a tank top underneath which couldn’t really been seen with how tightly you had the robe wrapped around you.

“Don’t be fooled by the grey hairs, honey” he began to walk around the counter.

“Still got enough gas in my tank” he chuckled, his words making you laugh. Something about his Texas accent exciting you..

“Such an old man thing to say” you joked.

“Haha” he stopped before you a little closer than you expected him to.

“I’m just joking, you definitely look like you could put in work-I mean-“ you completely caught yourself off guard, Joel raised his brows with a grin as you stood in shock with what you blurt out.

“What I meant was-“

“I know what cha meant” his eyes danced as his tongue slid over his bottom lip. He took another step attempting to move forward but stumbled side ways making you gasp and grab his arm.

“Woah, you okay? Maybe you should sit down” he took a step forward towering over you. Usually the smell of liquor this strong would’ve grossed you out but something about the way he was staring down at you completely distracted you. You suddenly felt his hand gently on your chin making you look more directly at him with big curious eyes.

“Mr.Miller” you whispered. His eyes traced the shape of your lips as the urge inside him grew.

“Mr.Miller…you’re drunk” his gaze met yours as if he was just coming into realization with what he was doing yet he didn’t move his hand away. Instead his finger began to trace your bottom lip making excitement build up in the pit of your stomach.

“I ever tell you how….pretty I think you are..?” He spoke low. Slowly you shook your head as he went on to trace your top lip before looking into your eyes. You couldn’t believe what he was saying…what he was doing.

“Every afternoon, you walked in with Sarah and…I couldn’t help myself but just look at cha sometimes… you never noticed so focused on those papers you always worked on…such a good school girl..” he went on to slide his large finger in your mouth. You stood still allowing him to do as he pleased, apart of you shocked yet still you sucked on his finger making him moan deeply. Joel knew he couldn’t stop himself now, he already had gone too far but he didn’t care. Pulling his finger out he quickly grabbed your face and kissed you eagerly making you stumble back against the counter. Surely he was drunk but he knew damn well what he was doing.

“Turn around” he spoke as he physically turned you around. You gasped leaning over the counter feeling him reach underneath your robe and pull down your shorts.

“Wait-are you-“ you gasped as he began to unzip his pants.

“Are you sure we should-“ You asked panting looking back at him before he unexpectedly took your hand and made you feel his bare hard on.

“That seem sure enough to you, sweetheart?” he whispered. Feeling how hard he was you felt yourself become aroused. Joel went from stumbling one moment to holding you in place by your hips. His sober feelings being taken over by liquor courage making him do something he never would’ve thought to actually do. Spitting on his hand he lubricated his cock before angling himself behind you and slowly entering you.

“Oh fuck-“ he whispered to himself. You gasped feeling how full he made you feel. His hands tightening on your waist he pulled out and once again slid back inside you.

“Oh my god..” you whispered.

“Can you take that for me, baby?” He thrusted his hips once again, this time with more force making you cry out. His body moving at a rhythm that was building up pleasure inside you, you grabbed onto the counter and moaned. Joel had fantasized about this more times than he could admit, you felt better than he could’ve imagined.

“You’re so god damn wet” he squeezed your ass with his large hands as he moved faster.

Screwing your friend’s father was not on your bingo card for this summer but God did it feel like nothing you had ever experienced before. Joel picked up your leg holding it on the counter allowing him to go deeper. His ballsack slamming against your clit as you dripped onto him.

“Mr.Miller…” you moaned only making him move faster, he could feel you pulsating around him as you screamed in pleasure.

“What is it, baby? Talk to me” he panted pulling your body back against him.

“H-harder” you struggled to speak as he wrapped his hand around your throat and did just as you asked. The sound of your wet pussy being slammed into through out the kitchen, you held your breath before an orgasm took complete control of you. He couldn’t contain himself any longer feeling your body spasm against him, the urge he felt for you was so strong he was surprised he was able to pull out in time. Panting hard you felt him cum all over your ass, his hand squeezing your waist as more cum continued to drip out of him. You looked back and watched at how he watched himself cum on you, the sound of his moans making your pussy throb.

“Oh baby-“ he stumbled away into the living room as you stood up straight. Your legs feeling like jello you took a moment to balance yourself.

“Do you want some water?” You asked awkwardly as you adjusted your shorts.

There was no response.

Holding your robe shut with your arms crossed you walked into the living room to find him passed out on the couch. Your lips parted when you noticed he fell asleep with his cock completely out of his pants, still hard.

Slowly walking towards him you stared down at him awkwardly as if he hadn’t just had you bent over on the counter. It was just after midnight and you were concerned of your father walking in on him like this, you knew you needed to fix this as soon as possible. Quietly getting on your knees you hesitantly took hold of his thick cock. Placing both of your small hands around his shaft you were instantly reminded how full he made you feel. Oh what you would give to feel him inside you once more. Looking up to see him still asleep you gently pulled his underwear up over his cock and closed his pants when he suddenly moved but didn’t open his eyes. Joel was out cold just as your phone suddenly buzzed.

‘Won’t be back tonight, staying in the city with your mom. Be back in the afternoon, love you’

Of course your father now was leaving the house to yourself.

After falling asleep on the couch across from him, Joel began to wake up just before six in the morning to his phone buzzing.

Groaning with a headache he rubbed his head before reaching for the phone in his pocket.

“Where the hell are you?” Tommy asked as Joel looked around confused realizing he wasn’t in his bed.

“Uh-“ his eyes suddenly found you lying asleep on your side.

“Shit”

“What?” Tommy asked.

“Nothin’” Joel responded quietly.

“I’ll be home soon, I’m fine, I’ll see ya in a bit” he flipped the phone shut before his brother could ask any more questions. Slowly pushing himself up he was careful not to wake you.

Joel couldn’t remember much of what had happened the night before, he didn’t even remember falling asleep. Looking over at you still fully clothed he wondered if anything had happened between the two of you when he felt the button to his pants open.

“Oh Jesus..” he whispered realizing what that meant.

“Shit, fuck me-“ he continued to mumble to himself as he looked around the house to make sure he had everything he needed when the sight of the kitchen counter brought back a sudden flashback. Your ass against him as he fucked you from behind, he froze for a moment, his cock twitching in his pants from the memory when you suddenly moaned in your sleep. Turning against the couch you sighed and stayed asleep. Joel slowly took silent steps back before he reached your door and went back to his house.

“Where the hell have you been?” Tommy asked with a chuckle.

“Long story” Joel paced past him.

“You know Sarah’s coming back in a couple hours right?” Joel looked up realizing what day and time it was.

“Shit, yeah, yeah..course I remember”

“I gotta get to work, Joel. Ya sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah I’m alright, why wouldn’t I be?” He responded defensively. Tommy shrugged and walked out the front door. Joel had no idea how he was suppose to face his daughter after what he had done.

Sarah had returned and Joel had freshened up in a shower attempting to act as normal as possible.

“Hey, baby girl how was your trip?” Joel rubbed the back of his neck as Sarah threw her backpack on the couch.

“Hey, dad. It was great. I’m calling y/n to come over and help me with a paper I forgot is due in a couple hours. That ok?” Her question catching Joel off guard. He expected to see you around but not so soon.

“Ya don’t think maybe she’s busy or somethin’” he crossed his arms hoping she’d change her mind. Joel hadn’t faced what he’d done nor the fact that he couldn’t stop thinking about what he could remember.

“I’ll try, if not then I guess I’ll just figure it out. It’s just she’s really smart and is really good with this class” Sarah turned away as she looked through the contact list on her phone and called you.

“I bet she is” he mumbled to himself.

Waking up to your phone ringing you saw Sarah’s name making you gasp. Quickly looking up you had realized Joel was no longer across from you.

“Joel?” You called out to see no sign of him anywhere near. Picking up Sarah’s call you were surprised with her invite as you walked around the house to make sure Joel wasn’t anywhere until you heard his voice in the background over the phone. When you did, your heart slightly dropped..

Joel had left without saying a word, you felt like an idiot. Now dreading to go to her house you tried to find excuses as she begged you for your help.

“Please, I really need to pass this paper. I’ll never ask you again” she assured you. With a sigh you gave in and washed up ready to go.

Anxiously waiting for Sarah to open the door you took a deep breath until she greeted you with a smile.

“I’m so glad you’re back” you hugged her as Joel silently stepped out of the kitchen.

“I’m so happy to see you” she smiled as she turned to her father.

“Isn’t it good to see her? Feels like forever” Sarah laughed as you stood awkwardly staring at Joel. Of course you came to his house in a damn dress, his shoulders tense as he caught himself checking you out.

“Good morning, Mr.Miller” you whispered politely.

“Mornin’, anything I could get you girls?” He asked turning to Sarah as you quickly looked away. The way your heart was racing, you were surprised Sarah didn’t feel it with how tightly she hugged you.

“No it’s ok dad, I got us some bagels” Sarah walked into the kitchen as Joel stole a quick glance at you.

“Come on y/n, come sit with me” Sarah called out for you from the kitchen table.

“Right” you chuckled anxiously before walking towards Joel who stood at the doorway. His eyes never leaving yours as you squeezed by him face to face to enter the kitchen.

As you sat down Joel sat in the living room and turned on the tv. Your mind was so distracted you had no idea how you’d be able to work on this paper with Sarah. Her phone buzzing on the table made you both look up.

“Who is it now?” she sighed before picking up the call.

“Yes this is she” she responded before looking at you annoyed.

“This is gonna take a few minutes- sorry” she whispered quickly before running upstairs.

You nodded and quietly looked back down at the book before you when Joel unexpectedly walked into the kitchen thinking you had gone upstairs with her. You could tell by the hesitation in his step walking in he wasn’t expecting to see you there. Walking past you he opened the fridge and grabbed a water bottle as you held yourself still. You waited for him to speak first…hoping he would.. but you couldn’t hold yourself back.

“Look, I wasn’t expecting you to leave me a love letter but to leave without saying a word wasn’t cool” Joel took a sip of his water and walked back towards the door.

“So you’re just gonna ignore me?” He stopped in his tracks with his back to you mouthing a curse word to himself before turning to you.

“The hell do you want me to say?” He uttered low. You looked at him in disbelief, this man had known you for years and had nothing to say after having sex with you unexpectedly.

“Nothing” you stood up and slammed the book shut making him furrow his brows.

“What are you doin’?” He took a few steps forward.

“I’m leaving. You can barely look at me and-“

“Don’t leave-“ he looked back towards the stairs.

“She’ll suspect somethin’. Just stay and help her with that.”

“No, you can tell her I didn’t feel good or something-“ you began to shove your books in your bag.

“God dammit” he whispered in frustration.

“What the hell do ya want me to say huh?” He closed the distance between the two of you, the tone in his voice making you stop and look up.

“What do you want me to say? That I can’t stop thinkin’ about how wet I made you-“ his words shocking you as he cornered you back against the wall.

“That I can’t stop thinkin’ about the way you screamed for more” he whispered deeply, his eyes moving quickly between your eyes and lips. Fighting a fight within himself that he could no longer take he suddenly pulled you against him and kissed you aggressively. Your hands on his chest in shock but you allowed your tongue to dance with his. His lips finding their way down the side of your neck as he quickly unbuttoned his pants between you.

“Mr.Miller..” you whispered against his ear just as he suddenly picked you up against the wall. His pants already lowered, he reached beneath you under your dress for the feel of warmth between your legs. Your panties hot as he yanked them to the side and pushed himself inside you. You gasped with his lips against yours, his thrusts pushing your body up against the wall as you held onto him. Your nails digging into his back you moaned softly.

“Tell me you want me” he whispered roughly. Your heart racing with adrenaline as he fucked you in a way that you knew this was only for you and him to ever know of.

“I want you” you whispered.

“Please don’t stop-“ you panted.

“Oh honey, I wasn’t plannin’ on it” his thick Texas accent only making you more wet. He moved faster pushing in deeper as he caught you looking over his shoulder towards the stairs.

“Look at me” he demanded. He could see the excitement yet hesitation in your eyes, the disbelief that you were being fucked by your long time friend’s father…you didn’t want it to end.

“Hey, I’ll be right there in a minute alright?” Sarah called out from upstairs, your eyes widened as Joel silently comforted you with a kiss to your neck.

“You heard?” She called out again as Joel smirked at how nervous you became.

“Answer her, baby” he whispered in your ear.

“Y-yes, it’s fine!” You managed to say when you heard the door close.

“Mr.Miller-“ you cut yourself off as you felt a sensation begin to creep up on you.

“What is it, honey?” He teased as he thrusted faster, he watched the look on your face as an intense orgasm overcame you. Opening your mouth you almost screamed until he muffled your scream with a kiss.

“Oh my god…” you cried out in a whisper. Goosebumps throughout your body as waves of pleasure took your body on a high it had never been on before.

“Fuck, baby” he looked down to see his cock covered in your cum. The feel of you pulsating around him causing him to lose control and before he could get you back on your feet to pull out he accidentally came inside you.

“Fuck-“ he groaned against your ear, his hips jerked uncontrollably, your legs shaking as he held them up when you realized he was cumming.

“Wait, are you-“ he held himself still against you out of breath, his face buried in the crook of your neck. He couldn’t move.

“Oh my god…” you whispered.

Slowly Joel lifted his head up and looked down at you with defeat.

“I swear I ain’t mean to do that, baby” he slowly pulled out and let your legs down. Still holding you close you stared at his chest in shock when you both heard the door open. Joel quickly backed away lifting his pants up and left the kitchen, you fixed your hair the best you could when Sarah walked in.

“Sorry, it was a call about the classes I’m trying to switch this semester. A whole process” she sighed without looking at you, not noticing how awkward you looked.

“Why’d you put your stuff away?” She looked up and raised a brow.

“You ok?”

“Mhm” you lied as you felt Joel’s cum in your underwear.

“I’m gonna use the restroom” you quietly walked past her as she stared at you strangely.

Joel was nowhere to be found as you made your way to the bathroom. Locking the door shut you rinsed your face off with water and looked at yourself in the mirror. All these years you knew Joel and never expected anything like this to happen. Hell, your own father would kill him if he knew. You couldn’t believe what you had allowed, more so you couldn’t believe what you knew had only just begun…