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joelsgreys · 5 months

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someone to be thankful for

DBF! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: It’s Thanksgiving—when dinner with your nightmare of a family goes south, you find comfort in the person you least expect it from: your father’s best friend, Joel Miller.

warnings/tags: 18+ only, MINORS DNI. (AU, NO OUTBREAK) non canon, DBF! Joel, AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s, i do not specify her age, but she’s a recent college grad so do with that what you will, not everyone graduates at the same specific age ya know? Joel is in his mid-ish 50’s). Reader’s a teacher, she is visiting her suburban childhood home from a big city. Reader’s parents are religious and practice traditional-ish gender norms (i.e father is head of the household kinda thing) reader’s family celebrates Thanksgiving (sorry) several mentions of food and alcohol, reader’s parents suck, she has two brothers who come with names, a lot of her relatives come with names, watch out for Aunt Ines she’s a bitch. (TW) body/weight shaming (twice) PLEASE BE MINDFUL if this could be triggering. mentions of and implications of childhood abuse (not graphic) reader’s dad gets in her face, implied infidelity (reader’s dad), implied toxic marriage (reader’s parents). soft, caring, protective Joel. Joel’s recently divorced, mention of Sarah, mentions of the ex-wife. SMUT. oral sex (female receiving) p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) reader states she’s on baby blockers (birth control), creampie, DADDY KINK (bc reader clearly has a few daddy issues), LOTS of pet names (darlin’, baby, pretty girl, sweetheart, honey), size kink (ish?), cockwarming. think i got it all?

PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. if this isn’t your thing, that is fine but just keep on scrolling.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION.

word count: 11.5k

a/n: yeah…idk. this was very delayed because it turned into a whole thing. if anyone actually reads all 11k of this, i will bake you muffins.

You take a deep breath and look in the mirror.

Skirt pressed, not a wrinkle in sight.

Hair brushed, not a single strand out of place.

Makeup done, not a blemish to be seen.

And somehow, someone will still find something.

Something to point out.

Something to comment on.

Something to criticize.

If not your appearance, it’ll be something else.

Because someone always had something to say.

“Should you be eating all of that?”

“Another year gone and still no boyfriend?”

“Don’t you want to get married?”

“When I was in my twenties, I had two children.”

Boundaries didn’t exist on Thanksgiving.

Actually, for your family, boundaries didn’t exist at all—somehow, they are still scratching their heads and wondering why you’d decided to up and leave the minute your high school principal handed over that diploma, your ticket to freedom.

“Sweetie!” Your mother’s shrill voice calls from the kitchen downstairs. “I need a hand! Our guests are going to start arriving soon and there is still plenty left for us to do before they get here!”

You groan outwardly.

There’s still plenty left to do?

How’s that even fucking possible?

You’ve been cooking and baking since sunrise.

“Don’t you think it’s too early?” you’d grumbled at five o’ clock in the morning when your mother had pulled you out of bed, declaring it was time for the big dinner preparations to begin—even though it’d be several hours before your family came over and gathered around the table to break bread. She had pulled the turkey out of the freezer a few days ago, a massive, thirty-pound whole bird that looked big enough to feed a small village. In addition, she had picked up a ham and a brisket. “Mom, why’s there so much food?” Rubbing the sleep from your eyes with the sleeve of your robe, you’d started making your way over to the Nespresso only to realize that the coffee machine was hidden behind paper bags full of groceries. “Are we cooking for all of Texas or something?”

“Very funny,” she had glared at you. “Of course we aren’t.” She started unwrapping the turkey. “We’re simply making sure we have enough food and that we have different options for everyone to enjoy, so knock it off with the wisecracks and get to peeling those carrots for me for the stuffing. There is not a single minute to waste today, you hear me, missy? We’re hosting a dozen people, so everything must be absolutely perfect. I won’t accept anything less than perfection today, do you understand me?”

Thirteen hours later, she’s still driving you insane.

You’re only home visiting until the end of the week and then it’s back to the Midwest. You can survive her for three more days, right?

You hear her calling your name and exhale a small, frustrated sigh. “I’m coming, mom!” you call back. It’s difficult to mask the annoyance in your tone of voice, but somehow you manage it. “One minute!”

Smoothing down your pleated plaid skirt, you take one last look in the mirror to make sure everything is in order—there is a loose thread on the sleeve of your brown, knitted sweater and you carefully snip it off with a pair of scissors before sliding your feet into the comfiest pair of ankle boots you’d packed and head downstairs, nose leading the way as you follow the warm, delicious scent of the made from scratch biscuits and rolls baking in the oven.

You find your mother standing at the center island counter garnishing a charcuterie board with sweet gherkins and sprigs of fresh herbs. She is donning festive apron embroidered with fall leaves over her designer dress; her hair’s still up in rollers. “Finally, there you are,” she huffs out loudly the second she hears you walk into the kitchen. Down the hallway, your father and two younger brothers are shouting at some football game on the flat screen television in the living room—men don’t lift a single finger on this day, at least not in this household. “I need you to start setting the table for me. I have place cards in that bag over there. Make sure your dad’s at the head of the table. Oh and don’t forget to bring out the children’s table for all your little cousins—” She glances up, letting out a small gasp when she sees you. “What in the world are you wearing?”

Frowning, you look down at yourself. “Clothes?”

Her ruby red lips purse together in a tight thin line.

“Honey, that skirt is too short. It’s inappropriate.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at her. “It’s like an inch above the knee, how is that inappropriate? It’s not like it’s a miniskirt, mom.” As she eyes your skirt with disapproval, you decide you’re not in the mood to argue and say, “Okay, fine. I’ll go upstairs and change into something else then—”

“No, no, forget it,” she shakes her head. “We don’t have the time for that.” Your mother whirls around, picking up the bag of place holders—she’d special ordered little turkeys carved out of wood. She also takes a marker and a notepad, shoving everything into your hands. “Here. I wrote down all the names of everyone who’s coming for dinner. The children get place holders too but make sure the little ones are sitting beside someone older to help them. Oh! Did I already mention putting your dad at the head of the—”

Tuning her out, your eyes scan down the guest list and if there’s one thing to be thankful for today it’s the fact that your mother’s given you the power to seat everybody wherever you want. Halfway down the list, you see the names of several relatives that you don’t want anywhere near you at the table. An Aunt Miriam who smells like the inside of a casino; a cousin Jennifer who refuses to acknowledge her forty-eight month old is actually four years old; an uncle Richard who always has one too many beers and winds up spewing antigovernment conspiracy theories, ranting until he’s passed out somewhere, such as on the floor of the guest bathroom.

You get to the bottom of the list and can’t help but raise an eyebrow in surprise. “Joel Miller?”

She nods, returning to her board.

“You remember Mr. Miller, don’t you, sweetie? He and your father went to college together—he’s one of his oldest and dearest friends. Don’t tell me you forgot about him? You’ve met him plenty of ti—”

“Yeah, I remember who Joel is, mom,” you mutter, cutting her off. “Didn’t he and the family move out to Arizona like, four years ago? To Phoenix, right?” You’d been away for college then. Taking a second glance at the list, you notice she had forgotten the names of Joel’s wife and daughter. Surely, it’d just been a mistake on her part, though. “I had no idea they were in town visiting. Dad didn’t mention it to me at all.”

“They’re not.” She lowers her voice, as if someone else is standing in the room listening. “Joel moved back to Austin, he’s been back for a few days now. He and Connie, they um—” Pausing for a moment, she reaches up and clasps the cross hanging from her neck before whispering, “They got divorced.”

Taken aback, your mouth parts slightly. “What?”

“I know. Joel and Connie were the last people that I ever thought would get divorced. Such a shame,” your mother remarks, shaking her head. “I ran into Mrs. Adler at the super market and she was telling me all about it. Thinks they could have saved their marriage if only those two—”

“Would get right with Jesus,” you finish, biting the tiny smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “She says that about everything, mom.”

“Well, she isn’t wrong! The sacrament of marriage is a lifelong bond that shouldn’t be broken. It’s not right.” Dropping her hand away from her necklace, she crosses her arms over chest. “Anyway, Connie stayed in Phoenix. Sarah’s spending Thanksgiving with her. Your father didn’t want Joel spending the holiday alone and invited him over for dinner. That means I need you to be on your very best behavior tonight. I don’t want you embarrassing your father in front of his closest friend. Is that understood?”

You can’t help but scoff a little. “I’m not a child.”

She narrows her eyes at you and scoffs right back, planting her hands on her hips.

“No, you’re a smart aleck. Need I remind you what happened last Thanksgiving with Aunt Ines?”

Of course she didn’t have to remind you about last year’s fiasco with her insufferable bitch of a sister.

“That’s an awfully big piece of pumpkin pie,” she’d remarked loudly, eliciting snickers from everybody sitting at the table. “Don’t forget, dear—a moment on the lips, forever on the hips. And you have quite a few forevers on your hips already, darling.”

You had smiled sweetly at her, your fingers itching to fling your mother’s fine china at her. “I wouldn’t really worry about my pie, Aunt Ines,” you had said as soon as you realized that nobody, not even your parents, would be coming to your defense. “Much less when your husband’s stepping out and eating someone else’s pie when he’s away on all those so called business trips. Worry about that instead.”

That comment hadn’t gone over all too well. Three months later, Aunt Ines and Uncle Louis started to see a marriage counselor. Whoops.

“Well?”

“She deserved that,” you say, shrugging lightly.

“She’s family.”

“She’s a jerk.”

“You crossed a line.”

“She crossed it first.”

Before your mother can respond, the sound of the doorbell ringing echoes throughout the house.

“Jesus, we don’t have time for this!” Your mother’s eyes widen when she tries running a hand through her hair and realizes she still has her rollers in. “Oh no, people are arriving and I’m still not ready!” She makes a beeline for the hallway. “Get the door and greet our guests, I’ll be down in five minutes!”

She disappears upstairs into her bedroom and you hear the doorbell ring again. Your father shouts for someone to go answer it, someone other than him or your brothers because it is the end of the fourth quarter and they just can’t possibly miss that.

You make your way through the foyer and open up the front door expecting it to be one of your family members, but it’s not.

Your throat instantly goes dry at the sight of him.

He’s broader than you remeber, so much broader.

The fabric of his sage green dress shirt is nice and snug on his frame—stretched taut over the planes of his chest and his wide shoulders. He’s holding a box of store bought something or other but you’re much too preoccupied with the way the sleeves of his shirt are hugging his biceps to notice what it is although you assume it’s some kind of dessert. He looks far more delicious than whatever sweet treat could be in that white box he’s got in his hands.

After a minute, you realize you’ve been gawking at him and the heat rushes to your cheeks. “Hello Mr. Miller,” you greet him politely. “It’s very nice to see you again. Please, come on in.”

He smiles, his brown eyes warm and sweet behind his square, black-rimmed glasses. “You remember me,” he states and the syrupy richness of his voice sends a pleasant tingle up your spine. Stepping off to the side, you allow him inside—as he steps past you over the threshold, the tantalizing scent of his cologne almost brings you to your knees. Notes of a citrus accord like tart grapefruit, fresh bergamot mixed with the woodiness of vetiver and musk; it’s intoxicating, something you could easily get drunk off of if you’re not careful. “I’m surprised. S’been a real long time since you last saw me.”

“It hasn’t been all that long,” you reply, closing the door behind you. You speak to him in the steadiest voice you can muster, with nonchalance—as if you aren’t one missed heartbeat away from feeling like a silly little schoolgirl with her first crush. “Has it?”

He thinks about it. “‘Bout four and a half years.”

“That’s really not that long.”

“S’not,” Joel admits with a chuckle. “But with how much I’ve aged in that short amount of time, I just wasn’t sure if you’d recognize me, y’know? I look a lot different than I used to.” He pauses and laughs, shaking his head. “I must look like an old geezer to you now, don’t I?”

Grays lightly pepper his thick dark brown curls, his beard and his mustache. He’s got crows feet when he smiles, he has worry lines and creases between his eyebrows—he does look a lot older, but he’s so goddamn handsome, wrinkles, fine lines, and all.

You toss him a playful eye roll, prompting a grin. “I don’t think you look like an old geezer, Mr. Miller.”

“Well, you’re sure as hell makin’ me feel like an old geezer by callin’ me that, darlin’ girl.” He gives you a little wink and you’re not quite sure if it’s that, or if it was the way he’d used a pet name that knocks all the wind out of your lungs. “Please, just call me Joel.”

You nod and shyly agree to it. “Okay, then. Joel.”

“S’much better.” His grin widens and a prominent, deep dimple appears on the left side of his cheek.

There’s a silence that follows, but it’s not awkward or weird. It’s comfortable—being in his presence is comfortable. His sweet disposition makes you feel so calm, so at ease.

Joel’s always been a nice man of course, although your interactions with him had been limited—kind, quick hello’s in passing on Sundays whenever he’d come over to watch football with your dad, maybe a polite how are you here and there if you bumped into him at gatherings like a backyard barbecue or birthday party. But you’re older now, no longer the child who greeted her father’s best friend because it was bad manners if she didn’t. You don’t want to throw him that kind, quick hello or that polite how are you and then scurry off the way you used to as a little kid. You actually want to talk to Joel Miller.

But you suddenly remember he’s not here for you.

He’s here for your father.

Joel!” Your mother screeches, five-inch high heels clacking loudly as she descends the staircase. She had ditched the apron and hair rollers—and put on one too many layers of her heaviest perfume. With a delighted squeal, she rushes up to Joel and pulls him into a bone crushing hug, almost causing him to drop the box he’s still holding. “Oh, it is so good to see you! It’s been far too long!”

You force back a small, amused snort.

As if she hadn’t been judging the man for a failed marriage just minutes ago in the kitchen.

It’s performative, too over the top to be sincere.

“S’good to see you too.” He steps back and laughs as he adjusts his glasses with one of his hands. He holds out the box to her with the other. “Picked up a pecan pie on the way over here. I would’a tried to make it myself, but the kitchen’s still all packed up in boxes.” He pauses, laughing again. “Then again, I ain’t really much of a baker. Store bought was for the best I reckon,” he admits, sheepishly. When he shrugs his shoulders, his shirt strains a bit over his frame and even your mother can’t help but stare a little.

Lightly clearing her throat, she takes the box from him and reminds him, “Didn’t I tell you that all you had to bring tonight was a nice, healthy appetite?”

Joel lightly pats his stomach. “Brought that too. In fact, I didn’t eat a thing all day long. I’m absolutely starvin’ right now. Could eat a whole horse.”

“Good! Dinner’s going to be served soon. William’s in the living room with the boys, watching football game after football game. Come with me, I’m sure you’re eager to see him.” Your mother spins on her heel and hands you the dessert. “Sweetie, will you be a gem and go put this in the kitchen for me?” It isn’t a request, it’s an order masked as a request—it’s the kindest she’s been to you all day. She takes Joel’s arm and leads him down the hallway, calling out over her shoulder, “And please set the table!”

You do set the table, and when you do, you decide to sit yourself right next to Joel Miller.

Your mother lightly clinks her knife against the rim of her wine glass and clears her throat. “Everyone! It’s time to join hands and say grace before we dig into our meal,” she announces, her voice breaking through the loud, buzzing chatter at the table. She waits until there’s complete silence and then takes her seat, the chair adjacent to your father’s. You’re on his opposite side and Joel’s right beside you. “I think you should do the honor, William. You are the man of the house, after all.”

Nodding, your father begins the prayer.

“Heavenly Father, bless this food we are about—”

You’re not listening. You’re distracted by the jolt of electricity that zips through your entire body when you put your hand in Joel’s. His hand dwarfs yours and it’s rough and calloused, but somehow it’s the most gentle, soothing touch. Heat prickles at your face and neck when you feel him sweep his thumb across the back of your hand—you open your eyes and glance over at him, wondering if that had just been an accident. You’re convinced it was, until he does it again, running his finger over each knuckle one at a time. Slowly, like he’s savoring the touch.

Biting your lip, you give his hand a gentle squeeze.

His head is bowed and his eyes are still closed, but a faint smile tugs lightly at the corner of his mouth and he firmly squeezes your hand back. There’s an unmistakable desire that’s already burning deep in your lower belly, a flame you can’t extinguish even when the angel on your shoulder reminds you that not only is Joel Miller twice your fucking age, he is also your father’s best friend. His best friend.

“…through Christ our Lord. Amen.”

“Amen,” your relatives chime together in unison.

You force out the declaration. “Amen.”

“Amen,” Joel murmurs, opening his eyes. He turns to you and his gaze flits to your hand in his and for a moment, it almost seems like he doesn’t want to let it go. It feels like Joel doesn’t want to let it go—and he doesn’t. He doesn’t let it go until the sound of your father’s loud, booming voice announcing it is time for him to carve the bird startles the two of you apart. Clearing his throat lightly, Joel turns his attention forward and reaches for his cabernet. He gulps down half his glass in one easy swallow.

Dinner’s fairly uneventful.

You eat in complete silence, as does Joel.

Part of you wonders if it’s because you’re sitting in between him and your father, the only person that he’s most comfortable conversing with. Assuming this is the case, you’re just about to ask him if he’d like to trade places when he turns to you and says, “Your dad told me you went to school in Chicago.”

He’s just being friendly, you remind yourself when your heart starts to flutter wildly at the notion that he wants to talk to you. He’s friendly. That’s all. It doesn’t mean anything.

“Yeah. I did.” You pick up your glass of wine, taking a sip hoping it’ll ease the nerves. “I graduated over the summer and took a teaching job out there.”

“You became a teacher?”

“Yeah. I teach kindergarten.” You smile proudly.

“Can you believe that, Joel?” Your father lets out a scoff and shakes his head. “I spent thousands and thousands of dollars to send her to school. All that money and for what? For her to learn how to teach little ankle biters how to color inside the lines?” He rolls his eyes and gestures to your two brothers on the opposite side of the table. “Now my boys, they are smart. Chose good careers to pursue. Brandon starts applying to medical school in the spring. Oh and Matthew? He got early acceptance to Yale. He plans on studying law.” He shifts his attention over to you once more and shrugs. “Not too sure where I went wrong with this one.”

You stare at him in complete and utter disbelief.

“Dad.”

Chortling, he waves a dismissive hand. “Oh, come on, honey. I’m just kidding around. You know that I don’t mean it.” He then reaches out, pinching your cheek roughly. “Don’t be so sensitive,” he tells you before turning his attention back to his plate.

But he does mean it.

His comments hurt, and you hate that they hurt.

Joel nudges your arm with his. “Y’know somethin’, it takes someone real special to become a teacher, ‘specially to kids that age,” he states in a matter of fact tone. “Someone who’s real sweet and patient, someone real smart too. Someone just like you.”

Warmth radiates through your entire body. It’s not just his words, but it’s the sincerity behind them.

You shoot him a small, grateful smile.

The two of you wind up talking to one another.

Joel’s moving his contracting business, bringing it back to Austin from Phoenix to run it with Tommy, his younger brother who you vaguely remembered meeting a time or two in the past. He mentions his daughter here and there, but doesn’t bring Connie up once—perhaps it’s too painful for him? It’s hard to tell. He seems to be in good spirits and truth be told, it doesn’t appear he’s mourning his marriage; but it’s difficult to believe he’s not missing her, the woman he’d spent three decades of his life with. It shouldn’t even matter to you whether he’s missing his ex-wife or not, if there are residual feelings still lingering around. But it does matter and you don’t know why. Or maybe you do know why, but you’re too ashamed to admit it.

“Do you like Chicago?” Joel questions, curiously.

Shrugging, you respond, “Yeah. It’s a cool city.”

“You plan on stayin’ out there permanently?”

“I’m not too sure,” you admit. “It’s too expensive. I don’t want to live with a roommate forever. Unless teachers start getting paid more, I don’t think that I’ll ever be able to afford to live alone in Chicago.”

Joel seems hesitant about his next query. “Do you ever think ‘bout comin’ back to Austin at all?”

Suddenly, you’re not too sure about that either.

You’ve been itching to go back and get as far from Austin, Texas as possible, but now, it means being far from Joel Miller. There’s a deep, sinking feeling inside of your chest at the thought.

Realizing he’s still waiting for a response, you have no choice but to tell him the truth. “I don’t think I’ll ever come back here, to be honest. Not to stay.”

“Oh. I see.” He sounds disappointed. “Are you—do you plan on visitin’ home again for Christmas?”

“I do. I’ll be here for Christmas and New Year’s.”

He’s being friendly. He’s being friendly. He’s—

“It’d be real nice to see you again then.” Flushing a deep shade of red, subtle regret flashes across his features, as if he’d said it without thinking. Picking up his glass, he drains the rest of his wine and you can swear he’s nervous. About what he’d just said, and about whether or not your parents, who are in such close proximity, had overheard him. Because what business did he have in telling their daughter it would be nice to see her again?

They’re both much too preoccupied. Your father is attempting to be slick checking his text messages underneath the table and you can tell by the smirk on his face that it’s one of his secretaries. He’s got a penchant for perky blondes in tight pencil skirts. Your mother is well aware of this. She is also aware he’s on his phone, but she turns a blind eye just as she always does and distracts herself by being the perfect hostess.

Feeling foolishly courageous, you turn back to him and nod, heart pounding against your sternum. “It would. It’d be very nice, actually.”

Relieved, he nods and murmurs quietly, “We’ll talk ‘bout it later, then. That okay, darlin’?”

Not wanting to seem too eager, you nod again and turn away from him, teeth sinking into your lip in a futile attempt to hide the giddiness in your smile—but the soft chuckle Joel elicits under his breath is a clear indication that it’s useless.

He knows how he’s making you feel. He likes it.

Your mother returns from the kitchen carrying two baskets of fresh crescent rolls, one for each end of the table. She sets one of them down right in front of you and you reach out to take one when a voice, one that sounds as awful as nails scraping down a chalkboard, remarks loudly, “Should you be eating so much bread, dear?” Ines, who’s sitting a couple chairs down, next to your grandmother, looks over at you and raises an eyebrow. There’s a smug little smile on her face, almost as if she were daring you to run your mouth like you’d done last year.

For as much as it pains you, you make your choice and decide not to take the bait. You pull your hand out of the basket of rolls and pick up your glass of wine instead, chugging it down like it’s water.

Frowning, Joel picks up the basket and takes a roll that you assume is for himself, but it’s not. Putting it on your plate, he shoots her a frigid glare. “Don’t you listen to her.” He says it loud enough for her to hear him. “You just enjoy yourself, alright?”

Your aunt bats her eyes, innocently. “Well, I’m just saying. If my skirt was that tight on me, I would be thinking twice about what goes into my mouth.”

Hushed laughter sweeps across the entire table.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” You slam your empty glass down so hard onto the table that the entire dining room goes completely silent. The little ones at the children’s table stare with big and wide eyes, mouths full of food hung open because a grown up had just used a naughty word.

Your mother says your name warningly. “Don’t you start,” she hisses, shaking her head. “Be quiet.”

Angrily, you round on her. “Seriously? You’re going to let her say that to me? You don’t care that she’s making comments about my weight?” You almost laugh. Of course doesn’t care, she has never cared and she never will. “I’m your daughter! Would it kill you to defend me for once in your fucking life?”

“Shut your mouth!” Your father stands up, shoving a threatening finger into your face, so close the tip of it almost touches the tip of your nose. He hasn’t put his hands on you since you were nine, but he’s as drunk as he is angry, and you find yourself back in the shoes of the little girl who would curl up into a ball in the corner of her room as she begged and pleaded for him not to hurt her. “You hear me?”

Joel stands and walks around your chair. Placing a hand on your father’s chest, he mutters, “Hey now let’s take a step back from her, alright?” He guides him back down into his chair. “Ain’t gotta be in her face like that, Will.”

“I’m sick and tired of her ruining everything—can’t get through one dinner without her screwing it up! Always has to run that fucking mouth of hers! She still acts like a goddamn fucking child—”

You can’t bear to sit there and hear another insult.

Fighting back the hot tears that are threatening to spill over, you quickly stand up and rush out of the dining room. You make a beeline for the front door and step outside onto the porch. It’s about sixty or so degrees in Austin and the cold nips at your bare legs, but that’s the least of your worries. Without a place to go, you descend the porch steps and find yourself walking towards the swing that’s hanging from the old bur oak tree in the front yard. You had asked your father for a swing when you were three years old—it wasn’t until your brothers asked for a swing a couple years later that he’d hung one up.

You sit down, hands curling around the rope that’s so old and weathered it’s beginning to fray slightly but not so much so that you’re concerned about it snapping. You’re so busy trying to keep it together that you don’t notice the sound of crisp, autumnal leaves crunching under a pair of boots behind you. A hand gingerly touches your shoulder. You let out a startled gasp and glance over to see it’s Joel.

“Hey there, darlin’,” he says, gently.

You stare at him in surprise.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Needed to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” you grit the lie through your teeth.

Joel’s expression softens. “You ain’t gotta pretend with me, sweetheart.”

His concern is genuine. It’s real.

You don’t quite know how to handle it. Accept it.

“It got real ugly in there, ‘specially with your dad.”

Tears prickle at your eyes all over again. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Joel. I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry?” Baffled, Joel walks around the swing and a minor labored grunt escapes him as he squats in front of you. “There’s a few people who need to be apologizin’ for what happened, but darlin’ you sure as fuckin’ hell ain’t one of them.”

It’s odd. Feels foreign, even.

You’re not used to someone being on your side—it prompts more tears to spring forward and despite your best efforts to fight them off, it’s useless. You manage to whisper his name. It’s a feeble warning, one that’s telling him to go back inside before he’s caught in the torrential downpour of emotions you are mere seconds away from unleashing on him.

But he doesn’t budge. He waits. Joel knows you’re about to break and he’s ready to catch the pieces.

Finally, a tear slips and rolls down your cheek, only to be followed by another and then another. You’re holding onto the swing for dear life now, emotions that you’ve been holding in for your whole life now coming to the surface. The rope digs painfully into the palms of your hands. He reaches out and curls his fingers lightly around your wrists.

“S’okay to let go,” Joel encourages you and you’re certain he’s not just referring to the swing. “Listen to me, darlin’ girl. I ain’t gonna let you fall, alright? I’m right here to catch you. You can let go. I’ve got you, okay?”

You allow Joel to take your hands off the rope and he guides them around his shoulders as you begin to crumble. Leaning forward slightly off the swing, you wrap you arms around him and bury your face into his neck. “Joel,” you choke out his name as he wraps his own arms around your waist, pulling you closer into him.

He feels like stability.

He feels like security.

He feels like safety.

Your entire body shudders as you cry, cry, cry.

“S’alright, sweet girl. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

He repeats his reassurance over and over again.

He wants you to believe it.

And you do believe it.

Joel’s as patient as can be. It’s growing colder and his knees are begging for a change of positon, but couldn’t care less about the discomfort. He rubs a soothing circle into your back and waits until there is nothing left except little hiccups and sniffles.

“Shit,” you mumble when you pull back and notice you’d left behind a wet spot on his shirt along with light traces of mascara. You wipe at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater. “I ruined your shirt.”

“S’okay. Nothin’ the dry cleaners can’t take care of for me.” Joel chuckles and lets go of you. “You feel a little better now, darlin’?”

“I do.” You glance over your shoulder at the house, then exhale a sigh and turn back to him, admitting quietly, “I don’t want to go back in there, though.”

He rises to his feet and pulls out a set of keys from the pocket of his black jeans. “Well, y’dont have to go back in there,” he states. “Is there somewhere I can take you? Friend’s house, maybe?”

“My best friend Megan went to Puerto Vallarta for Thanksgiving. Most of my other friends left Austin like I did,” you explain, sighing again. “Anyone who didn’t leave is spending their time with their family tonight and I don’t want to bother them.”

Joel hums, mulling it over in his mind. “Well, don’t know how comfortable you’ll be with the idea, but my place ain’t all too far from here. Ten minutes or so. Less if there’s no one out on the roads.”

“Joel, that’s so nice of you to offer, but I’ve already ruined your dinner tonight. The last thing I want to do is put you out even more,” you say, sheepishly.

“Sweetheart, you didn’t ruin a fuckin’ thing for me tonight. And you wouldn’t be puttin’ me out at all,” he promises. “S’gettin’ late and truth be told, I just wanna get you somewhere warm.” Holding out his free hand, he adds, “And comfortable.”

“But Joel—”

“I can be real stubborn too, y’know,” he teases you with a playful grin. “We’ll be out here all night long freezin’ our fuckin’ asses off.”

He isn’t going to take no for an answer.

“Okay,” you relent, accepting the offer.

You place your hand in his and he helps you off the swing. He doesn’t let it go as he leads the way to a sleek, black Dodge Ram that’s parked behind your grandfather’s silver Mercedes. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze before dropping it. “Sorry, sweet girl. It’s a bit of a trip up into the seat,” he remarks, chuckling as he opens the passenger side door for you. He gives you a boost into the truck; the scent of new leather is mixed with that of his cologne. It is all man and couldn’t be sexier. “Good up there?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

Joel closes the door and hurriedly walks around to the driver’s side of the pickup, climbing up into his seat with ease. “Seatbelt,” he tells you as he sticks the key into the ignition. The first thing he does as soon as the engine roars to life is turn on your seat warmer. He switches on the heater as well, waiting a minute before asking, “You warm enough?”

“I am. Thank you, Joel.”

“‘Course.” He nods and pulls away from the curb.

As Joel’s driving you further and further from your parents’ house, all you feel is sweet relief.

“M’sorry the place is such a mess.”

Joel leads you into his living room and touches his hand to the back of his neck, embarrassed.

Amused, you raise an eyebrow at him and say, “I’d hardly call cardboard boxes stacked neatly over on one side of the room a mess, Joel.” You take a look around his townhouse—most of his furniture’s still wrapped up in plastic, except for the black leather couch and the rustic, acacia wood coffee table. He has a flat screen mounted over the brick fireplace; he’s been sleeping on the couch, or at least, that’s what the pillow and Texas Longhorns fleece throw tells you. You turn to him. “If you want to see a real mess, you should see my apartment in Chicago.”

You watch him as he takes off his glasses and puts them down on the coffee table.

“S’it pretty bad?”

“My roommate’s a kindergarten teacher too. You’d be surprised at how many popsicle sticks two girls in their twenties can end up bringing home. Not to mention all the glitter.”

“If you’re tryin’ to make me feel better, it’s workin’ like a charm.” Joel picks up his blanket and drapes it over the armchair adjacent to the couch. “Go on and make yourself comfortable, darlin’. You thirsty at all? I’ve got water or I can make coffee. Also got a pack of beer in the fridge,” he adds, jokingly.

“What kind of beer?” you ask curiously as you sink down onto the couch.

He seems pleasantly surprised by your interest.

“Lone Star.”

“I’ll have one. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“‘Course it’s not too much trouble. Not at all.”

It’s hard not to stare as he walks away towards the kitchen. Your thighs clench together—his back, his shoulders, those unkempt salt and pepper curls of his that tuft at the nape of his neck right above his collar—this man is the epitome of utter perfection. Your mind wanders and you can’t help imagine the way your legs would look thrown over those broad shoulders. How his large hands would feel on your plush skin as they wrap around your thighs to hold them in place against his chest while he fucks y—

“Here you go, darlin’.”

Joel’s deep voice shatters your train of thought.

He’s standing beside you, holding out the bottle of beer, which he’d uncapped along with his own.

Blood rushes to your cheeks. “Thank you,” you say as you accept the beer from him, trying not to lose the sliver of composure that you’re holding onto—it wavers when your fingers accidentally brush his.

“S’it too cold in here for you?” he asks. “I normally keep the thermostat pretty low.”

“It’s a little cold,” you admit. “But it’s not a prob—”

It’s too late. Joel walks over to the fireplace and he manages to strike a match and light it with just his free hand. After tossing in a couple logs, he makes his way back over to the couch and he takes a seat beside you. “That a bit better, sweetheart?”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugs. “You said it was cold.”

He takes a long, generous swig of the golden lager before setting the bottle down on one of the green ceramic coasters on the coffee table. He sits back; an arm stretches out over the back of the couch in a casual manner and his legs spread open causing your thighs to clench together once more.

“You feelin’ alright?”

“Huh?” You then realize he is referring to what had happened at dinner. “Oh. Um. Yeah, I’m alright.”

Joel peers at you, his concern evident, clear in the depths of his dark brown eyes. “You sure?”

“No. Not really,” you confess, tracing the mouth of your bottle with your index finger. “But I’ll get over it. I don’t have a choice but to get over it.” Another lump starts forming in the back of your throat and you swallow it, quickly chasing it down with a gulp of beer.

“M’guessin’ your family’s got somethin’ to do with why you decided to leave Austin?”

“Bingo,” you deadpan. “I was so sick and tired of it all. How I was talked to, how I was treated. Like I’m such a fucking disappointment.”

He frowns. “You’re not a disappointment, though.”

“My parents think I’m a disappointment. My dad’s never told me he’s proud of me, Joel. Nothing I do, nothing I have ever done is good enough for either of them, but especially not for him.” There is a dull ache that settles in your heart and all you can do is silently will yourself not to breakdown again, not in front of him, at least. You sigh. “Do you know what it’s like, not feeling good enough for someone that is supposed to love you no matter what? Someone who’s supposed to love you unconditionally?”

Joel knows it’s a rhetorical question, he knows it’s not something you’re expecting him to answer.

But he does answer, because he does know.

“I do, actually. I know all too well what it feels like.”

He looks down at his left hand, which is resting on his thigh and you do too. Your eyes flicker over the fading tanline on his finger—where he once wore a wedding band. You don’t even think twice about it and reach over, sweeping your own finger over the patch of pale skin. Without missing a beat, you tell him, “You’re good enough, Joel.”

He can’t help but laugh a little. “She’d disagree.”

“She’s wrong.”

“You don’t know what happened.”

“I don’t have to know what happened.”

“That ain’t how it works, sweetheart.”

Stubbornly, you lift your chin. “I don’t care.”

Joel laughs. “Y’think you know me, darlin’? Y’think you know what kinda man I am? Hm?”

“I do know.” You place your hand on top of his and his jaw clenches. “You’re a good man, Joel Miller. I know that you’re a good man.”

“You couldn’t be more wrong ‘bout that.” There’s a brief pause and he hesitates before confessing, “A good man wouldn’t be sittin’ here just fuckin’ dyin’ to kiss his best friend’s daughter.”

You freeze and grip your bottle so tight, you would not be the slightest bit surprised if it shatters right in your hand. “You—you want to kiss me?”

“Since the moment you opened up that front door and said hello to me.” Joel shakes his head. “S’not right.” He’s riddled with guilt, with shame. He pulls his hand out from under yours. “I ain’t a good man at all. You’re half my fuckin’ age and I shouldn’t—”

You cut him off, softly uttering his name. “Joel?”

“Yeah?” His voice sounds hoarse. Strained.

“Can you—will you kiss me? Please?”

You need more than just his kiss, so much more.

You need him to unravel you in every way possible, but beggars can’t be choosers and if one kiss was all you’ll get tonight, then you’ll fucking take it.

Joel swallows dryly. “That really what you want?”

His eyes flicker down to your lips and then back to meet your sweet, innocent gaze.

“Yes,” you breathe in reply. “Please. Kiss me.”

He leans in, and there’s brief hesitation on his part and he stops mere centimeters from your face, his nose lightly brushing against yours. “We shouldn’t be doin’ this.” His warm breath fans over your lips; they’re parted, eager to meet his own. “I shouldn’t let this happen. I—I should take you back home to your family before I do somethin’ real stupid.”

Your heart sinks. “That really what you want?” you parrot his own question back to him and hold your breath, knowing there’s a chance his answer could be the answer that you don’t want to hear, the one that could end up crushing you.

Joel lifts his hand, cupping the side of your face in his palm. “‘Course it’s not what I want.” His thumb strokes your cheek, his dark eyes taking in each of your features. He’s studying, memorizing them, as if he’ll never get another chance to be this close to you again. With the line he’s about to cross, you’re both about to cross, that just might be the case.

The tension seeps through your skin and into your bones.

You exhale shakily. “Then just kiss me already.”

He moves his hand and gently curls it around your chin, holding you steady as he leans further in and closes the gap of space in between you. He moves slowly and he’s gentle—too gentle. You want to tell him you’re not made of porcelain, but you’re much too preoccupied with how Joel’s mouth feels, how perfectly it molds against yours. He delicately nips your bottom lip with his teeth. It’s a silent request.

He wants more, more, more. Your lips part for him, granting him the access he’s seeking. Joel doesn’t waste a single moment and he explores every inch of your mouth with his tongue, eliciting a whimper from you. Without breaking contact, he takes your beer and somehow he manages to lean over to set it down on the coffee table without dropping it. He then pushes you back into the couch and the next thing you know, you’re lying on your back and he’s settled in between your legs, using one of his arms to keep himself propped up, while the other wraps itself in your hair. Your own hands clutch at fistfuls of his shirt, fingers gripping the fabric so tight, the skin over your knuckles stretches painfully thin.

You whimper out again, the noise prompting a low growl to rumble through his chest—suddenly, he’s not being so gentle. He isn’t being rough. But he is hungry, he’s possessive, and he’s letting it show in the way he’s swelling your lips with his kisses, how his fingers are gripping the hair at the base of your neck as he firmly tilts your head backwards to give himself better access to your mouth.

Your mind is racing, and yet, you can’t think at all.

It’s not until his hips buck into you and you feel his bulge through his jeans against you that you break away from him. “Joel,” you gasp his out name. You grip his shirt even harder, chest heaving as you try to catch a much needed breath of air. You can feel the arousal pooling between your legs. The flames burning in the fireplace are nothing in comparison to the ones that are burning deep in your belly.

“Fuck,” he curses, pulling back. “M’sorry—”

The last thing you want is for him to be sorry.

“No! Please don’t be sorry,” you rasp, gazing up at him. Your eyes are glazed over with a lust you have never felt for another man before. “I want this, you know I want this—don’t you?”

Joel sighs, brushing a soft kiss to your temple. You wish he could take a peek into your mind, see how badly you want to be wrapped up in his arms—you want to get lost in his embrace, feel him all around you, inside you. You want him to write his name on your bare skin with his tongue, whisper his secrets into the spot where you’re aching for him most.

He sighs again and lightly shakes his head.

“Baby, y’need to think real hard ‘bout this—”

“I want this,” you repeat yourself. “I want you.”

Relaxing the death grip you have on his shirt, your hands release the fabric and move to the buttons. Your fingers tremble slightly as you undo each one of them; after an embarrassing fumble or two, you manage to get them all and push Joel’s shirt off of his shoulders. He sucks in a quick, sharp breath as your greedy hands begin roaming, exploring every inch of smooth, tan skin on his upper body.

Your touch erases all the uncertainty he’s feeling.

“Wanna feel you too, baby.” Joel takes the hem of your sweater and gestures for you to sit up slightly so he can pull it over your head. Carelessly tossing it somewhere behind him, he glances down, blood rushing to his cock as he takes in the sight of your supple curves clad in sweet, delicate white lace. “Christ, you look so fuckin’ soft.”

He doesn’t even realize he’s saying it out loud, not until he catches the flirtatious little grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. You sit up slightly once again and reach behind you to unhook the lingerie and take it off, adding it to the ever growing pile of clothes on the hardwood floor. Licking his lips, he meets your gaze for just a moment before dipping his head down, wrapping them around one of your hardened nipples. “Joel,” you mewl his name as he flicks the pebbled flesh with his tongue.

Joel releases it with a lewd, wet pop and he tosses you a smirk before he moves to the other to give it the same attention. He’s a biter, you find out as he takes it between his teeth, nipping over and over.

Your throbbing center clenches around nothing.

“Joel, please. I need you—I fucking need you.”

He tears away from your nipple. “Where, baby?”

You open your mouth to answer him, but your own gasp cuts you off as he starts trailing his lips down the length of your body until he comes to a stop at the waistband of your skirt. One of his hands finds the zipper on the side and he looks up at you, as if asking for permission. Desperate, you nod. Pulling the zipper down, he slides the skirt, along with the pair of lace white panties you’re wearing off of you and discards them, leaving you completely naked.

Your insecurities begin to trickle in, but Joel’s able to halt them right in their tracks.

“You’re too fuckin’ beautiful, sweetheart,” he says, his reassurance calming your nerves instantly. “So beautiful. So beautiful and so fuckin’ perfect.”

You watch as he makes himself comfortable—well as comfortable as he can—in between your legs. He shoots you a sheepish look.

“Knew I should’a put the damn bed together. But I been puttin’ it off and puttin’ it off all week long.”

You giggle breathlessly. “Who needs a bed?”

Chuckling, Joel feathers a kiss on your inner thigh.

Your smile is all but slapped right off of your face.

“Joel.”

Any traces of humor vanish. You’re both reminded of the next wall that’s about to be broken, the next line that’s about to be crossed.

He looks down and groans. “Such a pretty, perfect little pussy,” he remarks, his voice low, husky. “Bet she’s nice and wet for me, ain’t she baby?” He lifts his hand and drags the tip of his finger up your slit slowly, your slick coating his digit. He smirks up at you. “Oh, she’s fuckin’ soakin’, sweet girl. S’this all for me?”

Foreplay wasn’t in the vocabulary of guys your age and while part of you wishes Joel would hurry, you also find yourself enjoying the fact that he’s taking his time, teasing you—making you really want it to the point where you’re willing to fucking plead him for it. Joel Miller’s the only man you’d ever beg for.

He skims your other thigh with his nose and kisses it just like he’d done with the other. “Tell me darlin’ s’this where you need me? Right here?”

Frantically, you nod your head.

“Words, honey. Gotta use your words for me.”

“Yes!” you choke out. “That’s where I need you. So bad. Need you so fucking bad. Please Daddy—”

You freeze and momentarily, he does too. Truth be told, you wouldn’t really blame him if he just stood up, gathered your clothes and tossed them at you, demanding you put them back on and leave.

Joel raises an eyebrow. “Daddy, huh?”

Your face is on fire. “I—it slipped,” you stammer. “I didn’t mean to call you—I’m so sorry, Joel. I’m not even sure where that came from. I’ve never—”

You’re on the verge of panicking, then notice there is a certain glimmer in his eyes and realize he liked it when you’d called him that. You’re taken aback.

He fucking likes being called Daddy.

“Sweetheart, there ain’t nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout. I promise. You can call me that. But on a condition.”

You stare at him, no idea what the condition could possibly be.

“Ain’t allowed to call anyone else that. Ever.” There is a possessiveness in his tone and it nearly makes you come on the spot. “That understood?”

You nod obediently. “Yes.”

“Yes what?” he prompts.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good. That’s a real good girl, honey.”

For a split second, you can’t breathe.

This man will surely be the death of you.

Joel plants one final kiss, this one on your mound.

“Please,” you whimper, the heat in your lower belly growing and fizzling out to the rest of your body at the feeling of his breath over your aching core.

“Please what?” he murmurs into the sensitive skin as his arms curl around your legs. “Tell Daddy—tell Daddy what you need baby, so he can take care of you.”

“Your mouth,” you beg him, desperation mounting with each passing second. Your hips buck upward; his biceps flex as he tightens his arms around your thighs, pinning you down in place. “Your mouth—I need your mouth. Please.”

Joel moves his head to the junction of your thighs, his mouth hovering right over where you needed it the most. He looks up at you with hunger, like he’s a ravenous, starved man who hasn’t had a thing to eat in days. “What a good girl,” he praises, dipping his head even lower. His mouth waters at the sight of your glistening folds. “Bet you taste as delicious as you fuckin’ look, don’t you, pretty girl?”

He flattens his tongue and glides it up your slit, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs as he gets his first taste. You gasp out when it grazes your swollen, aroused clit and your head falls back onto the couch. “Oh fuck,” you whine, reaching for his hair. You weave your hands through his graying locks and pull his face closer. Another swipe of his tongue causes your back to arch up off the leather and the edges of your vision to blur.

He pulls an arm from around your legs and drags a finger down your drenched entrance, lips securing themselves around your clit. His gaze stays locked on you as he pushes his long, thick digit into you—you feel him smirk as he curls it upwards, pressing the pad of his finger firmly against the soft spongy spot inside you, making you see stars. Joel slips in a second finger and curls it along with the other to double the pleasure. He begins thrusting his digits in and out of your warm cunt, eliciting what had to be the sweetest sounds that he’d ever heard in his entire life from you. He combines it with with slow, firm, and precise stokes of his tongue on your clit.

“Fuck, yes, just like that,” you encourage him, your loud, breathy moans bouncing off the bare, freshly painted walls of his house. “Yes Daddy, fuck—feels so fucking good, please don’t fucking stop—”

It’s not like you have to tell him what to do.

Joel knows exactly what he’s doing, and he knows it too. He listens to every single one of your moans and feels every single buck of your hips. He is sure to pay extra attention to when your hands pull and tug at his curls; he remembers what combinations of licking, sucking, and fucking make you squeeze your plush thighs tighter around his head; reminds himself of which technique brings your body off of the couch, what makes your toes curl. Joel’s quick to learn your body’s cues, each and every last one. He already knows when to give you more, when to give you less—when he needs speed up, when it is time to slow it all down.

You sing his name over and over again, pressure of an orgasm already building between your hips. His tongue swirls around your sensitive little bundle of nerves as his fingers pump in and out of your cunt and you glance down. You almost choke when you catch a tiny glimpse of the muscles in his forearm, the way they flex underneath his skin with each of his movements as he’s fucking you. Your gaze flits to his face. His own eyes are fixed intently on you.

You’re milliseconds away from release.

“Joel, I’m so fucking close. I’m gonna come—”

His arm squeezes your thigh in encouragement.

One last, broad stroke of Joel’s tongue on your clit sends an overwhelming wave of pleasure crashing over you. Strangled cries tear themselves from the back of your throat as your velvet walls flutter and convulse, squeezing his fingers. Joel, who’s face is still half buried in your pussy, takes it upon himself to help you ride through the high. He peppers soft, delicate kisses onto your swollen clit as his fingers continue to slide in and out of you slowly. He waits patiently until your loud cries dissolve into nothing but breathless little whimpers before he crawls up, positioning himself on top of you, a hand on either side of your head. His beard and mustache glisten with a mixture of saliva and slick—and somehow it it ignites another fire and you’re ready for more, so much more.

“Sweet girl,” Joel murmurs. Leaning down, his lips meet yours and you taste yourself on his tongue

You place a hand on his chest, right over his heart, which beats strong and steady against your palm.

You start dragging your hand down his chest, your fingernails raking over his skin. It travels lower and lower, gliding over the softness of his stomach. He tenses when you brush the waistband of his jeans.

Tearing away from you, he grits out, “Baby. No.”

You immediately snatch your hand away from him.

“You changed your mind?” you question, stomach sinking at the thought of it being over already.

You’re just so fucking greedy for this man.

He offers reassurance—and an explanation.

“No, that ain’t it at all. S’just—” Joel pauses briefly and flushes a shade of red. “S’just that, well, I ain’t got condoms on me, darlin’.”

Relieved, you assure him, “It’s okay. I’m clean.”

“Me too. But that ain’t what I’m worried about,” he admits, his face going from red to maroon.

You smile, finding his embarrassment endearing.

“I’m on birth control.”

Joel clenches his hands into fists. His cock strains against his zipper at the thought of it—taking your cunt bare. “Y’sure you want this?” He rasps out. “I need you to be a hundred percent sure ‘bout it.”

“I’m a thousand percent sure, Joel. I fucking need it. More than anything I’ve ever needed in my life.”

That’s all he needed to hear.

Joel stands up, his gaze never leaving your own as he kicks off his black leather boots. You sit up, and it takes every ounce of strength you have in you to remain composed as he unbuckles his belt, unzips his jeans and pushes them down his legs. You bite down on your bottom lip and try not to stare at his bulge like it’s your first time ever seeing a dick, but if he’s as big as he looks in his boxer briefs, maybe this would end up being a lot more than what your body could handle.

He hooks his thumbs underneath the elastic of his boxer briefs and slides them off, allowing his thick, hard cock to spring free from its confinement.

You swallow harshly. He’s fucking massive.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” Joel chuckles at the expression on your face as he kicks aside all of his clothes. His length rests on his lower abdomen and precome smears the skin there. Wrapping one of his hands around it, he gives it a couple strokes, just a hint of relief until you come into play. “Hm?”

Licking your lips, you nod and stand up. You take a couple of wobbling step towards him—Joel’s cock hasn’t been anywhere near you and you’re already fucking walking side to side. “Come here,” you say to him, taking both his hands in your own. You pull him back to the couch and gently guide him down into a sitting position. Swinging your leg over both of his, you straddle his lap. You gingerly place your hands on his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh softly when you feel him brush against your pussy; the contact makes you both moan in unsion. “This okay?” you ask him, breathily. You can’t be sure as to why you’re suddenly feeling a bit shy, like you’re not planning to ride his fucking soul out of him.

“More than okay.” Joel brushes your hair over your shoulder and then drags his hand down the length of your body, committing to his memory every one of your curves. “Gonna be a real good girl and ride my cock, baby?”

You gift him with a cheeky grin. “Yes, Daddy.”

The shyness begins to dissipate and you dive your hand between your bodies, wrapping it around his cock, causing his breath to catch in his throat. You lift yourself slightly off his lap, teasingly gliding the head of his cock down your drenched slit, then up, letting it graze over your clit, which is still senstive to the touch thanks to his lips and tongue.

Joel’s hands find their way around you, running up the curve of your spine. “Wasn’t aware that my girl was such a little fuckin’ tease,” he remarks in a low tone. He slides his hands back down and his large, warm palms cup your ass, fingers kneading flesh.

“Your girl?” you repeat, your heart skipping a beat, stomach fluttering at the idea of being his. “Is that what I am to you, Joel? Your girl?”

“S’that what you want, honey?” Joel whispers, his eyes finding your own, two hopeful gazes meeting in the deepest, most intimate moment that you’ve shared all evening. “Y’wanna be my girl?”

Leaning forward, your reply is preceded by kiss, so soft and so sweet his heart swells inside his chest.

“I do,” you mumble against his lips. “I really do.”

Still gripping your ass, Joel eases you up and lines himself up at your entrance. He bucks his hips and slides the head of his cock past your folds and into your heat. “Breathe, baby,” he whispers, his hands moving to your hips, thumbs grazing your skin. He slowly guides you further down his shaft, grunting as you sink down, taking him inch by inch. “Christ, you’re so goddamn fuckin’ tight—”

The initial stretch is almost too much for you. Your nails sink deeper into his shoulders as he pulls you down further down onto him. “Joel,” you whimper, biting back a loud cry. You’re fully seated, his cock completely sheathed inside you, his head pressing against your cervix. You’re so full of him.

One of his hands abandons your hip and slips over your lower belly.

“This where you’re feelin’ me, pretty girl?” he coos gently. “This where you feel Daddy’s cock? In your belly?”

“Yes,” you sigh out contentedly. “Feels so good.”

You lift yourself off of him, then slide back down in a slow, languid motion.

Joel’s head falls back onto the couch. “Christ.” He mutters the word, his chest heaving. Staring up at the ceiling, he takes a moment to catch his breath and silently wills himself not to explode. Once he’s managed to somewhat compose himself, he looks at you again, pupils blown so wide you can’t find a single trace of brown. “Go on, then,” he rasps. “Go on, sweetheart.”

The living room fills with the sounds of low moans and panting breaths as you move, alternating your maneuvers between rocking and bouncing on him in a frenzied, fast paced rhythm. The friction of his pelvis each time you grind into it winds up the coil between your hips and suddenly you’re desperate, so pathetically desperate for another release.

“Yeah, that’s it baby,” Joel encourages, feeling the beginning of his own climax building quick—much too quick for his liking. “Jus’ like that, honey. What a good girl you are for me, so fuckin’ good for me. Just like I fuckin’ knew you would be.”

“Fuck,” you whine. “You feel so good, Daddy. Feel so fucking good inside me—”

Leaning back, you firmly plant both your hands on his thighs and arch your body, head falling back as you pick up the pace. The burning fire casts a soft, orange glow around you and his jaw falls slack. His eyes drink in every single fucking thing about you, watch you with an adoration that, for the first time in your whole life, makes you feel wanted. Actually wanted.

“Joel,” you whisper his name over and over. You’re both beginning to lose track of where you end and he begins. You can hardly hear the praises that are spilling from his plush lips over the squelching wet sounds of your cunt sliding up and down his cock. There’s no chance to warn him—your mouth parts in a silent scream as you come undone on him.

“M’so fuckin’ close,” Joel grunts. He feels his cock twitch as your pussy grips him like a vice. “Where? Where do you want it, pretty girl?”

“Inside me. Please, I need you to come inside me,” you plead him, the innocent tone of your voice the last thing to push him over the edge he’s teetering on. “Fill me up, Daddy—please, want every drop of you inside me—”

Joel reaches for your arms and yanks you forward, into him. Throwing them around his neck, his own arms wrap around you and roughly slam you down onto him, holding you firmly in place. He bucks his hips upwards, balls tightening, his cock pulsing as he comes. Strings of hissed curse words and deep gutteral groans muffle when he drops his face into your collarbone. Still holding you in place, he spills his load into you, his seed filling you to the brim.

He sags back against the couch and pulls you with him. Wrapping his arms tighter around you, he lets himself stay buried inside of you, the primal in him relishing the heavenly feeling of his come dripping messily out of your pussy and all over his thighs.

“You alright, sweetheart?” he asks after a minute.

“M’perfect,” you mumble against his chest. You’re not sure if it’s because you’re coming down from a high or if it’s because he’s tracing patterns on your shoulder blade with his finger, but you shiver in his arms.

“Let me get the blanket—”

Joel starts to move to get up, but you stop him.

“No, please don’t,” you say, pushing him back. You put all of your weight onto him, as if he can’t move you off to the side if he really wanted to. “I—I want you inside me for a little while longer. Please.”

“But baby, you’re cold—”

You don’t bother explaining to him that you’re not.

“Just hold me. Please.”

And that’s exactly what he does.

Snuggling into him, you close your eyes and Joel’s hand strokes at your hair. Between that, the thrum of his heartbeat against your cheek and the sound of the fireplace crackling behind you, you’re nearly soothed into sleep.

“Joel?”

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“I hate Thanksgiving,” you admit, smiling tiredly to yourself when you feel a laugh rumble in his chest.

“Do you, now?”

You nod. “I do. But I’m really thankful for you.”

Giving you a gentle squeeze, Joel kisses the top of your head and murmurs, “Well, m’thankful for you too, sweet girl.” He pauses momentarily. “I ain’t all too sure how I’m s’pposed to just let you go home. I know I have to but—”

Lifting your head off of his chest, you take the side of his face and cradle it in your palm. You meet his gaze, heart sinking when you see the sadness that has replaced the lust from earlier.

He doesn’t mean home to your parents’ house. He means Chicago.

You graze his beard with your thumb. “I’m coming back in a few weeks,” you remind him, gently. “I’ve only planned to spend a week out here just for the holidays, but I can visit sooner. As soon as the kids go on winter break, I can come back to Austin.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Of course I would, Joel. I’m not sure how it would work what with my parents and all, though. I don’t want them catching onto us.”

“C’mere.” Joel brushes your lips with his before he makes his promise. “I’ll figure it out, baby. Leave it all to me and I’ll figure it out.”

divider credit to @saradika-graphics 🤎

#asdfghjkl BYE #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x reader #dbf!joel #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller x y/n #joel miller au #dbf joel miller #dbf joel x reader #fic: someone to be thankful for

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2hightocare · 5 days

Text

DOWN BAD! 01

Synopsis: Despite undeniable chemistry, your guys’ relationship remains undefined, caught between playful teasing to deeper, unspoken longing,

Pairings: bad boy! jungkook x fem! reader

Genre: friends to lovers. college au.

Warnings: toxicity, jealousy, explicit content, angsty, smoking, usage of drugs and alcohol, fighting, profanity, slowburn, jungkook and oc are literally in love but do nothing about it, crying, hurtful words being thrown out when arguing, slapping.

a/n: IM BACK!! this is something super different than anything I have ever wrote sooooo… but i actually really love it. This would be a two-shot. Hope you enjoy🪽🪽 <3

pinterest board. playlist 02!

"He pisses me off," you say while dropping onto the couch with a loud annoyed sigh, catching Taehyung's and Dahlia's attention.

"What did he do now?" Taehyung jokes, adjusting his tie on his uniform. "Look at another girl, that's what he did," you clench your teeth, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. Your fingers play with the hem of your short navy squared skirt.

Your friends let out a collective laugh, making you scoff at them. "He asked a girl for a cigarette," you mumble under your breath, feeling the pang of jealousy hit your heart.

"Morning," a deep voice speaks from behind you, sending shivers down your body almost automatically. Your brows furrow as Jungkook makes his way beside you on the small couch in the lounge room after acknowledging his friends. His white button-up is opened, revealing a peak of his skin, which annoys you. He tugs on his navy tie, the same one as yours, undoing it and letting it hang loosely around his neck.

"Are you done being mad?" He tilts his head to the side, staring at you. His breath smells of the cigarette he had been smoking, the same one he accepted from a girl who had a crush on him, which irked you. You almost wanted to snatch the cigarette from his lips and stomp on it like a child when he lit it up.

"No, I'm not done being mad," you scoff, getting up from the couch in a swift motion. Jungkook lets out a frustrated sigh behind you before reaching for your skirt and pulling it down.

"Too short," he says, ignoring your whole tantrum.

You don’t reply. Instead, you smack his hand away from your ass before picking up your backpack and throwing it at him.

"Let’s go to class," you say, crossing your arms in front of you, making your boobs push up from the white button-up—you had intentionally left two buttons open after seeing him. His eyes immediately drop to your chest, and Jungkook pokes his cheek with his tongue on the inside before letting out a soft growl and reaching to button up your shirt.

"You’re insufferable," he lets out, fixing your shirt.

"You’re insufferable," you mock back, earning a grin from him.

"Are you ready to talk to me?" He bites his bottom lip, picking up your pink backpack and hanging it over his shoulder, something he was used to doing by now. "No, but the attitude is kinda hot, not gonna lie," you say, before making your way to your first period, with Jungkook trailing behind you like a puppy on a leash.

You and Jungkook weren’t dating, nor were you friends with benefits either. You were just friends with feelings bigger than Mount Everest. It all started on the first day of sophomore year of high school.

“No more fights, okay. First day only and you already got into a fight,” Namjoon blows out a sigh, running a hand down his face.

Jungkook scoffs, pulling on his tie. “This uniform is pissing me off.” He growls, ignoring Namjoon's attempt to coax him into a conversation about controlling his anger issues. Jungkook wasn’t in the mood to deal with any of it, especially today.

“Yeah, well, fancy private schools love their uniforms,” Namjoon jokes, but Jungkook's expression remains jaded.

“Anyways, you’re lucky you didn’t get suspended,” Namjoon continues, shooting Taehyung a look that screams for help.

“Lucky? I would’ve preferred if they expelled me,” Jungkook mumbles, leaning back on his chair, throwing his head back in annoyance.

Before Namjoon could mutter another response about self-sabotaging, a female voice catches Jungkook's interest. “I don’t give a fuck, she literally ripped my new tights,” you whine, your hair disheveled, the lipstick once on your lips now smeared, and your new black over-the-knee tights, ripped.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you could tackle her to the ground, Yn,” another girl says, nudging you, which makes you pout more. “My mom is going to kill me for getting into a fight on the first day.” You sit down in front of Jungkook, not even glancing his way, throwing your pink backpack on the ground beside you, keeping your eyes on the ground.

Jungkook takes notice of your appearance, and his heart rate skyrockets. You were beautiful, like an angel, but Jungkook knew better than to think you were innocent. The skirt was much shorter than it was supposed to be, your blouse more open than closed, which had Jungkook's eyes dropping to the tie between your tits, taking notice of the cross necklace hanging on your neck.

Angel with dirty wings. Jungkook thought to himself as he took you in, the smeared lipstick adding to your allure. Your full and pouty messy lips, had him imagining things only he imagined when he was in his room at night with his hand wrapped around his cock.

Instead, he's sitting at the front office with a pretty girl in front of him for the same reason he was. As he is thinking about far more inappropriate things than fighting. Before Jungkook could look away, your eyes met his.

“You’re new,” you grin at the bruised-up boy manspreading with a matching grin on his face in front of you.

“I am,” Jungkook replies, licking his bloody bottom lip with his tongue. Eyes still remain glued to yours as you nod. “I’ve never seen you around,” you state, tilting your head to the side, leaning forward.

“And I’m pretty sure I would remember someone that looked like you,” you continue, taking him in. The black blazer, with the school logo, he was supposed to be wearing was discarded on the chair beside him, leaving him in the white button-up, sleeves rolled up halfway, giving you a full view of the veins on his arms. His black hair was tousled on his head, the bloody lip made him hotter than you cared to admit.

“Is this a way of telling me you don’t have a boyfriend?” Jungkook flirts, ignoring his friends' obvious stares from beside him.

“Not yet,” you quirk, tapping your finger on your bare thigh. “What’s your name?” you ask, wanting to know more about the boy in front of you besides the fact that he gets into fights on the first day of school.

“Does it matter? You’ll be calling me “baby” by the end of the day,” Jungkook says aloof, which gets him a small smile from you. “Smooth,” you shrug, leaning backward.

"Angel," he says, his hands snaking around your waist, pulling you in.

"Hi," you smile at him, your eyes twinkling with unspoken affection.

"Hi," Jungkook responds, his dimple carving into his skin as he leans forward, his nose touching yours, nuzzling—a short, quick gesture that steals the air from your lungs. You almost feel yourself hanging onto these moments by a thread—moments where he isn’t high or drunk out of his mind or fighting with anyone who pisses him off in the slightest.

"Do you like my costume?" You flutter your eyelashes at him sarcastically, eliciting a small laugh as he throws his head back into the wall. "I don’t know, do I?" he says, his tone dipped in enticing sarcasm. His tattooed hand drops lower on your back, causing your breath to hitch in your mouth.

The music suddenly muffles out as you focus on Jungkook’s finger dipping into the waistband of your skirt. "You look pretty," he whispers into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

"Where’s your halo, baby?" he says, pulling on your perfectly curled hair, making you look up at him. "Lost it while I was dancing," you pout, wrapping your arms around his waist, pulling him in closer to you.

You’ve never understood when people said, “home could be a person,” but you hundred percent get it now. It's almost embarrassing how quickly you melt into his embrace, your limbs relaxing—inhaling his scent. Your brain suddenly shuts down, not thinking about anything besides him, the moment he wraps his arms over your shoulders, dropping his lips on the crown of your head, leaving a soft kiss there.

"Don’t smile," you jut out, peeping your head up to see the small curved smile displayed on his face. "Why not?" he pokes, amusement clear in his face as his smile widens, deepening his dimples.

"Stop," you giggle, placing a small hand over his face.

"What?" he chuckles, getting a hold of your hand, giving your wrist a kiss before letting it hang beside you. "Your dimples are showing, and they’re only mine to see. Bitches love dimples," you say, only making him smile more.

Anyone else who saw Jungkook smiling all giddy at you would know better than to poke fun at him—but it was rare to see Jungkook smiling and laughing so casually out in the open. Behind closed doors, Jungkook was the epitome of a teddy bear; he loved head and back scratches and loved being a little spoon, all contrary to his dark clothes, cigarettes hanging from his mouth, and the heavy amount of alcohol he could consume.

"Be a good boyfriend and stop smiling, please," you quip, untangling from his embrace and looking around for Dahlia, only to be met with her making out with Taehyung on the countertop.

"I’m not your boyfriend, angel," Jungkook says beside you, putting a hand over your shoulders, taking a chug out of his beer.

"Oh yeah, my bad. I forgot. You’re my bitch," you turn to look at him, a mischievous smile on your face, which has him playfully rolling his eyes, mumbling something under his breath that you couldn’t quite catch before he took his arm off your shoulder, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a cigarette.

"Let’s go outside," he holds out his hand, which you don’t think twice before intertwining yours with his. You feel giddy as you walk past the crowd holding his hand, as he leads you outside. You hated how many small moments like this had you wanting more from him, knowing this is the most he could ever give you. Jungkook had walls larger than the walls of China. You tried your hardest to stand up on your tiptoes and look. But whenever you got a sneak peek from what's inside, Jungkook built them right back up.

Ever since sophomore year of high school, you had the hugest crush on Jungkook, and you knew deep down he did too, but he never said anything all these years. It was embarrassing how you found yourself waiting for him—you couldn’t help it; your heart basically beat for him.

As you both reach a tall seat wall, before you know it, he's picking you up and placing you on the cold brick wall. Goosebumps appear on your bare thighs while he rubs his warm, calloused hands up and down.

"Cold," you whine, looking down at your angel costume—the white, flowy short skirt, your long white knee-high socks with the tall heels. And don’t forget your lace white top that kept getting tangled with your belly piercing. "I know ways to keep you warm," Jungkook waggles his eyebrows, moving closer to you. You feel his hands on your knees, opening your legs before he steps in between them. The closeness was something you were used to—the cheek kisses, the hand on your thigh, but never this. He was too close to your face—you could feel his warm breath whenever he would breathe. You felt your chest heave as everything you wanted was for him to put his lips on yours. Jungkook's face moved closer in.

You felt your heart stop in your chest almost abruptly. If it wasn't for his face millimeters away from yours, you would think you just had a heart attack.

Your eyelids fluttered closed, waiting for his lips to make contact with yours, but you're met with nothing. Then you feel the warmth of his hand on your thighs disappear, and the same with his body between your legs. You open your eyes to be met with Jungkook lighting up a joint instead of a cigarette. Before you could stop yourself, you pull it out of his mouth with a hard tug.

"What the fuck," Jungkook says, an unreadable expression on his face when he looks at you. "Are you fucking serious?" Your eyebrows furrow as you throw the rolled-up paper somewhere far—jumping down the wall. Your heels click on the pavement as you walk closer to him. The heels didn't do anything for you, as you still had to look up at him to meet his eyes.

"You said you’d stop," your voice cracks like your heart, as you push on his chest.

"It's just weed," Jungkook lets out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. "That's what you said at first then you ended up in my room, high off oxy. So don't tell me it's just weed, Jungkook," you shove him, sending him tumbling backward.

The knock on your window sends your soul leaping out of your body. The sight of your favorite boy outside has your heart beating faster—it's past midnight, so seeing him there sends a different feeling down your body.

“Hi, what are you doing here?” You ask, opening the window to let him climb in. His eyes don’t meet yours as he walks in and sits on your bed, watching you close the window.

“Just wanted to see you,” Jungkook mumbles softly, his voice raspy.

“Well... hi,” you say as you drop beside him on your bed. “Hi,” he says, his eyes avoiding eye contact as he looks down at his twiddling fingers.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, worry picking up as your hand moves to his cheek. His skin is hot under your palm as you move his face to look at you.

The moment his eyes lock with yours, you feel as if the ground disappears beneath you. Jungkook's eyes are unnervingly vacant, the pupils dilated into enlarged black circles.

“What did you take?” Your voice cracks, holding his face in your hands as he slumps into you. “Baby... don’t be mad,” he slurs, his eyes fluttering closed—your hand immediately goes to his heart, finding his heartbeat. This isn’t the first time this has happened; it’s a repeating cycle where he gets high, ends up at your house, and you hear every apology in the book, but it doesn’t mean anything since he’d do it again. The new thing is you don’t yell anymore; instead, you feel the tears start rolling down your face.

“Fuck. Don’t cry. Yell at me, be mad,” Jungkook slurs, trying to reach for you, only for his arm to drop beside him.

“I can’t...” you sob, “why do you do this?” Another sob racks through your body as you pull him into your chest in a hug. His body is limp in your arms.

“Baby... I’m so fucking sorry,” he groans into your chest as you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to calm down. “I love you,” he whispers, and you feel like you can’t breathe as another sob breaks out of you.

“Tell me when you’re sober,” you sniffle, knowing he wouldn’t remember in the morning, laying him down onto your bed and placing the pink covers over his shaking body. You know you’re just feeding into the cycle, but right now all you can do is cry. You prefer him in the safety of your room instead of outside on the streets. So instead, you wrap your arms around him and pray to god he’ll be okay.

“Why do you give a fuck about what I do?” Jungkook scoffs, “it’s none of your business,” he continues, but now it’s your turn to scoff.

“Right, it’s none of my business, asshole,” you throw out.

“You just don’t get it, do you? I’m not good for you,” Jungkook says, his tone much higher than he had anticipated. “I don’t give a fuck, I want you. Don’t you get that,” you frustratedly point your finger into his chest, almost annoyed that he still didn’t get it.

“You want this?” He motions between us, “us fighting all the time, because that’s all we do,” Jungkook scowls, the hard expression on his face has your heart shattering—you almost even hear the cracks as he continues to talk.

“I don’t need you being all up in my business; you’re not my mother,” Jungkook says, letting out a sigh of frustration—rubbing a hand over his face. “I care about you,” you say, looking at him, your voice betraying you as it cracks, again.

“Don’t,” he steps backwards, a shaky laugh escaping him as he avoids meeting your eyes. “Why?” You find yourself asking, making his head snap to look at you.

“Why what?” He asks, brows furrowed as he locks eyes with yours.

“Why did you lead me on then? If you don’t want me,” you ask, wrapping your hands over your waist, feeling vulnerable out in the open as you lay your heart in front of the man you were in love with. He had two choices, break it or carefully pick it up and lock it somewhere safe. You were praying he would pick option two—instead, he decided on the first option.

“What other reason would there be?” Jungkook says, his tone low, stepping closer to you, backing you into the brick wall. Your eyes move to his lips then back to his eyes.

“Maybe because you so easily would open your legs for me. All I have to do is ask,” he spits out. Before you know it, your hand is making contact with his cheek.

“Fuck you,” your teeth clench as you feel a tear stream down your face, “and this is why you shouldn’t want me,” Jungkook clicks his tongue before stepping away from you— a pained expression on his face.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. Come back,” you hurriedly say as your eyes fill with tears, watching him walk away into the dark street.

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m00npiez · 9 months

Text

Modern Steddie AU

“Oh she’s cute.” Robin points over to a table near the bar.

Steve follows her finger and the blonde in the pink pleated skirt is, in fact, very cute. “You should go talk to her.”

Robin gives him a look, “Literally everything about her screams ‘straight’ so no thanks,” she takes a sip of her cocktail, “Don’t feel like getting humiliated today.”

Steve rolls his eyes, “I doubt she’d humiliate you but suit yourself.” He stands and fluffs up his hair a little, “If you won’t, I sure as hell will.”

Before his friend can protest, Steve’s strutting over to the girl’s table. She looks up at him when he stops and leans slightly against the chair opposite from hers.

“Hi!” she greets before he can say anything. Her whole face lights up as she smiles. She’s definitely cute, but not exactly what Steve had in mind for the night.

“Hey,” Steve flashes his own smile, “I was just telling my friend how cute you are and wanted to know if I could maybe buy you a drink?”

Her face goes pink, but her smile falters slightly and a small frown forms. “Oh that’s so nice of you, but I’m actually a lesbian,” she seems genuinely upset at having to break this news to him. “I’m really sorry, you seem lovely.”

Steve’s eyes widen slightly, but his smile remains, “Oh, god, sorry I should have asked,” he laughs, “That’s totally my bad.”

She shakes her head and leans forward in her seat, “Not at all, sweetheart!” there’s a slight southern accent slipping through and her smile is back. “You couldn’t have known, I know I don’t exactly look the part.”

“Well, since I’m already here,” Steve smirks, glancing over his shoulder to where he can see Robin watching the scene unfold. Her eyes snap away once she realizes he’s looking at her. “My friend over there is single and also extremely gay.”

Chrissy looks over and her smile turns coy, “Now she’s cute,” her eyes snap back to Steve. “She’s the one who told you to come over?”

“The opposite, actually. She thought you were straight so, I came over instead.” Steve explains.

Chrissy nods, glances over her shoulder and then stands. “Well, I’ll just have to go over there then.”

Steve smiles, “I’m Steve, by the way.”

“Chrissy.” The blonde extends her hand and Steve shakes it. “Thank you for letting me know the girl I’ve been eyeing is queer.”

Steve gives her a two-finger salute and goes to walk away, but she grabs his wrist to stop him.

“Do you like men, by any chance?” Chrissy asks, her smile alluding to something.

“Is it that obvious?” Steve laughs.

She gives him a once-over, “The tight shirt sort of gave you away.”

“Fair enough. Why do you ask?”

Chrissy points over to a curly-haired guy covered in tattoos, who’s ordering at the bar, “You should go talk to my friend, Eddie, he’s been blabbing about the hot jock in the polo since you walked in.”

Steve swallows, he’d seen the guy when they walked in, but hadn’t allowed himself to look. He was the kind of hot and scary Steve usually avoided due to their usual disdain for preppy guys like Steve. But surely if he kept Chrissy around, he couldn’t be all bad.

“I don’t exactly seem like his type.” Steve points out, giving Chrissy a nervous glance.

She laughs, “Oh please, pretty boy with big eyes and a great body? You’re everyone’s type.”

“Not yours.”

“Trust me honey, if you were a masc lesbian I’d be all over you right about now.” Chrissy winks and Steve can feel his face heating up.

“I don’t want to bother him…”

Chrissy rolls her eyes, “Just use the same line you used on me, he doesn’t bite.” she pauses, “Unless you ask really nicely.”

Yeah she isn’t exactly easing his nerves with these little jabs.

“He looks like he carries a knife.” Steve’s just stalling at this point.

“I know he seems kinda mean and scary, but he’s really just a big ol’ softie, trust me,” she pats his shoulder, picks up her drink and starts walking towards Robin, “Now I’ve got a pretty lady to talk to, so get! Go make a move on the scary metalhead, Steve!”

Steve watches her go, his amusement growing at the sight of Robin’s panic when Chrissy plops down at their table.

Mustering up the courage to walk to the bar, he turns but immediately bumps into someone. The person manages to steady their drink and somehow prevent Steve from falling on his ass, grabbing him around the waist.

“Shit sorry!” Steve finds his footing, only to nearly lose it again when he looks up to find his face a few inches away from the aforementioned friend of Chrissy’s.

Eddie smiles, squeezes Steve’s waist once before releasing him, “Don’t sweat it, sweetheart.”

Steve’s face must have been bloodshot at that point. Two people had called him sweetheart within the span of a few minutes. At this rate his brain was going to malfunction entirely.

Eddie studies him for a second, his eyes twinkling, before looking over to the now unoccupied table. He frowns, looking around the bar.

“She’s over there.” Steve points to where the two girls are deep in conversation.

Eddie’s eyes look from Steve to Chrissy and back again. “Were you heading back there?”

“Uh, no, actually,” Steve clears his throat. Why was it so hot all of the sudden? “I was told to go talk to the scary metalhead?”

Eddie’s grin returned, showing off his dimples. Steve was allowing himself to stare at the man now, and god was he stunning.

“Scary? That’s rich coming from the girl who literally carries a knife with her.” Eddie sits down at the table and looks at Steve expectantly, “I don’t bite,” he gestures for him to sit, so he does.

“Apparently you do if I ask nicely,” Steve says, then feels his face heat up again when he hears what he said.

Eddie laughs, loud and beautiful, “God, she really knows how to play wingman, huh?”

#this is just a little experiment #had this idea at 3am #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #buckingham #steddie au #modern steddie au

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honeybubblebeeeeee · 3 months

Text

Arranged marriage AU!Toji x Reader

Summary: Your son with toji, Megumi, said his first words today

CW: toji is cold and distant mostly hurt and no comfort mild fluff i guess??

Idk this was a random thought and now its here

REQUESTS OPEN!

Marriages were not always done out of love. Some were done out of necessity or desperation. Much like the one you were currently in. It was necessity of clans and land squabbles and power hungry old men that didn't care for the feelings of those around them - only getting what they want.

And in your case they got what they wanted. Did you get anything you wanted? Well kinda.

Being in an arranged marriage to Toji wasn't the worst thing to happen to you. It could be worse but it could also be much, much better.

You had known each other since you were children as it was planned from a young age that you two were to be married. You hadn't minded. Toji was attractive and you had a mini crush on him for the longest time but he always detested you. You knew of the numerous women he had slept with before your marriage, having run into them multiple times. It felt like he was trying to push you away, to force you to beg for an out but you both knew that wasn't happening.

You had only been married for a short time now almost two years. It had been mostly uneventful in the name of new marriages aside from - ya know - the whole baby you had. Toji and you were told to waste no time in trying to produce an heir and really that was the only Toji showed you any affection. Outside of those moments he was cold and inattentive. Those moments were only out of the necessity to reproduce anyway. He didn't interact with your son Megumi very much either.

You cleaned up the kitchen after dinner in your large but yet lonely house. Toji was still out. Work or something else you weren't sure. Megumi babbled and bounced as he watched you move around the kitchen from his highchair, music played in the background. You smiled at him as he babbled. "Hi 'Gumi." You waved at him smiling wide. He laughed giddly at your voice, his mop of black hair bouncing with his movements.

He was the happiest and the cutest baby you had ever seen. You were more than proud of yourself. It was only mildly hurtful that Megumi was identical to Toji. His dark hair, his facial structure screamed Toji. The only thing he had gotten from you was your eyes. They reflected back at you as you approached the bouncing baby putting him on your hip.

You danced along to he music, bouncing him around as he laughed and babbled.

You put him down on the floor as you turned off the music. He continued babbling to himself as he crawled around. "Dadadadadada"

You turned almost comically slow to look down at your son. "What?!" Your smile was wide and your face was full of surprise.

Megumi babbled on again almost coherently. "dadadadadada"

You were so in shock you could barely move. Picking him up and swiftly sitting him on the counter. "Gumi did you say dada?! Say it again! Say dada."

Megumi laughed and babbled at you. You repeated the word multiple times, he watched intently his mouth moving as if trying to copy you. More coherent this time. "Dada"

You smiled wide and clapped at him. "Good job Megumi!! Oh my we have to tell Dada don't we? Such a smart boy."

Within the same moment Toji burst through the front door. You looked up at him as he passed by the kitchen, not even taking off his shoes before going to stomp up the stairs. "Toji! Oh my gosh come here Megumi just-"

"Leave me alone." He marched up the stairs. You heard his footsteps through the house and his bedroom door slammed. You looked down at Megumi as his small hands held onto your shirt and he looked up at you with big eyes. "Dada." You smiled softly at him. "Yeah baby... dada." Looking towards the stairs as if seeing him stomp up to them all over again.

Hours went by and he never came back down. You texted him that his dinner was in the fridge, that you wanted to show him something, that you were here for him if he needed anything, that you were sorry he had a bad day and he never answered or even read a single message.

Since figuring out he could say 'dada' Megumi had not stopped repeating it. You knew it wasn't to annoy you but you couldn't help feel a pang of hurt every time he said it. Toji was rarely around. Why couldn't his first word be mama, the one who is always around?

It was Megumi's bed time but you really thought Toji hearing Megumi would lighten up his day a little. You sighed to yourself as you built lego towers with Megumi upstairs in his playroom. Here you were, still trying to be the wife but he really was making you into a stranger.

You bathed and dressed Megumi in his pjs and held him close as he looked up at you. "Should we go see if dada is busy Megumi?" His eyes widened at the word and continued his babbling mantra of it. You walked through the east half of the house where your room and Megumi's plus your own office, some extra rooms and Megumi's playroom were. Toji's side was the west wing. If you were actually husband and wife you would share the north wing, where the extravagant bedroom - apartment practically - sat bare and collected dust. You looked to the double doors at the end of the north hall with disappointment before making you way to the west end and stepping up to Toji's door.

You hesitated before knocking softly. Waiting a moment before looking down at Megumi and shrugging. "I don't know if he's awake bud." You thought for a moment before slowly pushing the door open and peering inside. The light were on so you entered even though you knew you shouldn't. Toji never let you in his room. You'd only be in here a handful of times and all those times were unpleasant.

You walked through the sitting area into the bedroom until you noticed the bathroom door shut. You shook your head, looking to Megumi, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "I think we will show dada tomorrow okay?" Megumi was unusually quiet, maybe being able to feel the tension that grew in your body. Turning swiftly you made for the door you came through but before you made it out of the bedroom the bathroom door opened.

"What are you doing in here?" Toji's voice was loud and cold. You turned to look at him. Water dripped from his wet hair, his body damp with steam. A towel hung loosely around his waist. "Did I say you could come in my room?" His eyes bore holes into you. The heat that rushed into your face gave away your fear.

You looked down to the son you both created, trying to look anywhere but at the way his muscled form rippled infront of you. It was easier to pretend you didn't find him attractive or care about him or have feelings for him when he wasn't right infront of you.

"Oh... sorry... I just..."

He eyed you, how you stayed focus on Megumi. The small boy holding onto your free hand. "What happened? Is Megumi ok?" His expression changed as he approached the two of you. His voice still cold and annoyed but a hint of concern hid underneath it all.

Your head snapped to him. Eyeing him closely for a reaction. "Nothing I just... he said his first word today. I thought it might cheer you up to hear it if I can get him to say it again."

His features softened ever so slightly. "His first word?" Toji tilted his head in thought. "What was it?" You couldn't help but notice the small amount of excitement in his voice.

Megumi bounced in your arms at Toji's voice, babbling along as if trying to figure out how to say it all over again. I smiled at Toji and then back down at Megumi. I pointed at Toji. "Who's that Gumi? Hmm? Say dada! Say it again baby show dada."

Megumi babbled and pointed towards Toji for a few moments before sounding out dada once again.

Toji's face immediately brightened. "What?! Dada??" He chuckled deeply, one that sounded genuine and it shook something in you. "He actually said it. Good boy Megumi." Toji stepped up to you and the baby as he spoke. Brushing Megumi's heap of hair back.

You kissed to side of Megumi's head as he bounced on your hip. "He hasn't even said mama yet." You chuckled softly but the tinge of hurt was in your voice. "Anyway that was all I wanted to tell you. Sorry for coming in your room, I know I'm not supposed to."

He shook his head. "it's okay." He assured as he watched Megumi babble and squirm in your grip. He was overtired for sure. Toji seemed to be a different person than the one you had come accustomed. His permanent scowl was gone and he looked almost happy. "Can I hold him?"

His question shocked you. Eyes widening but you handed him over.

Toji softly cradled him, rocking him back and forth as he whispered to him. Megumi didn't cry or fuss, even his overtired babbling stopped. Slowly his eyes got heavy and closed. You watched intently as Toji interacted with your son. If it could be like this all the time.

"He really does have my hair. He's got your eyes too." Toji commented quietly while admiring his son. His eyes flicked up to yours for a moment.

I smiled at him. "Yeah... he does..."

Toji chuckled softly. "He really does look like me. It's kinda scary."

You laughed a little more sincerely than you intended. "He does, has your personality too."

Toji chuckled low. "Yeah, he's cold and distant just like me?"

Your smile dropped, panic set in at his words. "Oh n-no I didn't mean it like that..."

Toji shook his head and looked up at you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips at your panicked expression. "I was joking, I know what you meant." He assured as he watched the sleeping Megumi in his arms.

You let go of a breath you didn't even realize you were holding. "oh right."

Toji whole aura seemed to relax when he held Megumi. You wished he could be around all the time. That he could be the father figure Megumi needed. That he could be the husband you wanted. To come home after a long day, and sit together. To be able to go to him when you needed a hug or reassurance or just wanted to feel loved. Your eyes focused as you realized that Toji was watching you deep in thought. Shaking your head you held out your arms. "I can take him now if you want. I don't want to bother you."

He held onto Megumi for a moment, seeming almost reluctant before handing him over to you. You smiled and nodded at him, turning to leave. He called out to you as you reached the door. "Wait, Y/N-"

You turned to look at him. "What's up?"

He opened his mouth to say something but closed it slowly. "Never mind sorry. Goodnight."

You eyed him for a moment before reluctantly turning away. "Alright... goodnight."

He couldn't bring himself to tell you the things he wanted to say. He couldn't find the words. How does he make up for the suffering you already endured? You had always so easily melted his cold dead heart, so he kept you at a distance but you had been so close. He already felt it melting.

#toji x reader #fushiguro toji #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji fushiguro x you #toji x you #arranged marriage #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen

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cheesiedomino · 2 months

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RentABoyfriend.com ꙳ ੭ * ‧

synopsis: you’re tired of being single so you to take an unusual route in helping with that— but what happens when you start catching real romantic feelings for your rental boyfriend?

genre: seo changbin x fem!reader | fake relationship/dating au wc: 5.1k tags/warnings: fluff, v minor angst, mild cursing, (kinda) nerdy changbin, use of pet names, mentions of alcohol usage, just overall very cute story dw <33

[this is part of my valentine’s series where i write a short story for each member surrounding themes of love, newfound romance, relationship hardships & more.]

“I have a date tomorrow guys.”

Everyone’s head instantly lifts up from their phones at this sudden announcement, collectively drawing their attention at you. You weren’t expecting all of them to gasp and swap such looks of genuine confusion. It’s starting to make you think maybe this situation was a lot more serious than you’ve bargained it out to be.

You couldn’t fathom it either honestly, the realization of you going out with someone probably won’t settle in until you’re physically on the date. Based on their initial responses though, you might regret everything you’re about to say, but it’s far too late to retract any of your statements now.

“No way.. with who??” Danielle is the first out of everyone to ask.

Taehyung chimes in as well, “Yeah, who’s the lucky person? They’ve gotta be something seriously special to be talking to you.”

Well, you suppose you could put it that way.

You already have a preconceived notion of what they’re going to think of this “idea”. Mentally preparing yourself to receive a flood of questions and critique from your close friends.

“Actually… I rented him. For the week.”

Now they’re all looking at you like you’ve officially lost it. The room got scarily quiet, no one wanted to be the first to speak. You should’ve anticipated on their reactions being like this, it isn’t everyday someone just openly admits to buying a partner online. Nowadays there’s a lucrative market for just about anything, when you stumbled upon an ad for this service called ‘RentABoyfriend.com’ you didn’t think much of it. You laughed the concept off at first, thinking how lonely people must be to buy someone else’s time.

But the ads kept popping up, they wouldn’t stop showing in almost every YouTube video you were watching— even one of your favorite YouTubers promoted them before! So one day you finally decided to check this website out, you wanted to see what the hype’s all about so you signed up just for shits and giggles. You weren’t expecting to actually be somewhat interested in trying this thing out, but after going through a couple different profiles and reading hundreds of positive reviews you were practically sold.

“You rented out a boyfriend..? Seriously ___? I mean, I’m not judging but you’re a gorgeous girl you can easily get a boyfriend without paying for someone’s companionship, I don’t see why you need to rent one.” Mark bluntly expressed his opinion, he was probably the most outspoken out of all of you guys.

Taehyung and Danielle both agreed in unison, it’s practically 3 against 1 at this point. You knew you should’ve waited to tell them but you weren’t anticipating on them being this judgmental about it. You were hoping for a little more support, as they’re all way more experienced than you in the dating scene and could lend some helpful advice about your first date, ever.

See, the thing is you’ve never tried dating before so you wouldn’t know the first thing about it or what to expect from your future partner. You’ve never had a boyfriend, let alone held hands or kissed someone of the opposite sex. Being in your twenties it’s kind of embarrassing to say you’ve never done those things, but you thought what better way to try it out than renting a full-on experience that can give you just that? Well minus the kissing part, but you can make it work.

You were skeptical of doing this whole ‘rent-a-boyfriend’ thing at first because you didn’t think there’d be anyone you’d find suitable enough. A big part of the reason that you’re still single is because you’re extremely picky, you want to date a guy who’s so perfect that he must’ve came straight out of an indie romance film. Your friends would tease you for having such unrealistic standards when it came to dating but you were the all-or-nothing type, you’ll be single with fifty cats before you settle for less. Renting a boyfriend is definitely an unconventional idea of easing into dating but you thought it might be worth a try anyway.

What’s the worse that could happen?

( 1 day earlier )

Hovering your cursor over the bold red text of the website, you read over the main rules before going on to select the person you want for your date.

‘The rules are simple:

You are allowed to see only ONE person at a time, if you want to switch boyfriends you’ll have to pay a $50 fee.

MUST be over 18 to rent a boyfriend, we have implemented an age verification system before the date as we do not tolerate anyone under this age to use our services.

NO kissing, or sexual intimacy allowed. If this is found out later on by our agency we will terminate your contract and ban you from using our services in the future.

Remember to have fun !! ^_^ Our services are great for people who are new to dating or have never been in a relationship. We provide the ~ultimate~ boyfriend experience to all our clients. Customer satisfaction is 100% guaranteed ! (NO REFUNDS)’

Well jeez… they seemed a bit strict but you can deal with those rules and restrictions for the most part.

After hours of skimming through hundreds of profiles, you have a hard time choosing which you like most. Did you want an artsy, shy kind of guy? The tattooed, bad boy aesthetic type? You really couldn’t pick one until you stumble upon a particular profile that catches your eye almost immediately.

SEO CHANGBIN | 168 CM | PART-TIME LIFEGUARD | 24 | *POPULAR ↝

5 Facts About Me: I’ve traveled to over 50+ different countries and counting (ask me which my favorites are), I can speak 4 languages (working on my fifth), love to sing and used to have a rap trio with my buddies from college, I can & will easily lift you up ;) also have a secret talent for cooking, there’s nothing I can’t do!

Why Choose Me? First of all, why not choose me? I’m the best candidate for whatever kind of date you need, something casual, social gatherings, weddings, you name it! I’m very social and can make most people laugh (unless they’re the literal Grinch reincarnated), I’m able to get along well with anyone and just love to have a good time. I hope we can get to know each other and make great memories in the future :)

Going through his pictures you couldn’t believe someone was capable of being this humanely attractive. Don’t even get started on those impeccable muscles either… He really had to sport them in every other one of his photos, wearing the tightest shirts to show the outline of his insanely sculpted frame. You might have just been mesmerized from his godlike visuals alone. They even had a Valentine’s Day deluxe package that comes with seven dates in total for half the price, which they specified was for a limited time only.

$600 later you’ve got a full week of dates lined up with the hottest guy you’ve ever seen in all your years of living. You should’ve definitely went shopping before considering all this because now you actually have a reason to get dolled up for someone.

You were so nervous about going on this date you almost cancelled last minute out of fear. Typing out several different elaborate paragraphs to Changbin on why you couldn’t make it. You didn��t have his real phone number, it was all through an app facilitated by the rental company that was included in the package. Even though you were feeling overwhelmed and practically shaking with anxiety about meeting up with a guy, you still forced yourself to go anyway. You didn’t just dish out all that money just to not show up and waste his time on top of all that.

Your rental boyfriend texted you the location to meet at, it was near a train station so you both could see each other out in a public open space. The outfit you wore was fairly simple, a black mini skirt with warm tights underneath and a cropped turtleneck sweater. You accessorized the look with some dainty jewelry, a thin scarf, and knee high boots to pull everything together. It wasn’t something you usually wore but you had certain clothes you saved for a special occasion like this.

Upon your arrival, you notice him standing near a vending machine and waves over at you with the biggest smile plastered on his face. You awkwardly wave back, giving a soft smile as you slowly walk up to him. He looks even better in person, you don’t even feel adequate enough to be in such a gorgeous man’s presence. No wonder he’s so popular on the site, he’s practically unreal.

“Hi, you must be ___. It’s so nice to finally meet you, might I add you look really beautiful today, I think you’re making my heart race just by looking at you. Happy Valentine’s Day!” Changbin introduces himself, buttering you up with some sweet compliments before handing you the most insane bouquet of roses you’ve ever seen.

You take the flowers and almost stumble backwards from how heavy they were, “Wow, thank you!” Changbin prevents you from falling, quickly coming up behind you to get your balance back.

“Careful honey, can’t have you injured on our first date!” He voices with concern, “I hope you love the idea I came up with, I’ve only been to this place once before but I’m sure it’s still as fun as I remember it, let’s go!” Eagerly grabbing your hand to begin the journey, he turns around again to examine your body language.

“You seem a little tense babe? Do you need a massage?” He asks in a concerned tone again, this is all really beginning to freak you out. You know this is what you signed up for but this was all starting to feel a bit too personal, all the nicknames and sweet talk he’s giving is just something you aren’t used to.

“Uh, no! It’s o-okay.” You shook your head, denying anything suspicious going on. Truth be told you were barely able to contain your composure right now.

Changbin keeps on insisting, “The massage is included in the package so you don’t have to worry about getting charged extra.”

“N-no it’s okay, really. I’m just nervous that’s all, sorry I just don’t meet up with guys…” you shyly admit, finding it hard to look him in the eye.

He nods in understanding, “No need to be nervous with me sweetheart. I’m here to make you feel as comfortable as possible.” The smile he flashes at you instantly makes you warm on the inside, he seems like a genuine, caring person. You think things might go well for you after all.

The rest of the night was full of only good vibes and laughter by the end of it all. Changbin took you to an adult arcade that had old video games like Pac-Man, Super Mario, and Space Invaders, the other side was a bar where people could sit, drink, and socialize. He bought all your drinks that night, let you use up most of his tokens and overall had the most fun you could’ve ever had with someone. He was so easygoing but also knew when to act super caring and would be all lovey dovey with you. He was gentle, nurturing, and could have conversations about anything. You loved that he’d randomly drop some interesting fact you never knew about, or talked about a certain niche topic that he’d go on multiple rants over. It didn’t feel like you were renting someone out to date you, it felt natural— like you’ve known him for longer than a couple hours. Changbin walked you home and held your hand the entire time, along with the flowers he provided a teddy bear and a heart shaped box of chocolates. If that didn’t scream boyfriend goals then you don’t know what does.

The next day you wake up to Changbin blowing your phone up this morning. You had over 26 messages from him, which was pretty excessive in your humble opinion. The first thing he said was good morning then he goes on to express how fun yesterday was and he can’t wait to do it again. He even sent a couple mirror selfies of him at the gym, ‘conceited much?’ You thought. But then again, if you were Seo Changbin you’d probably be full of yourself too.

For today’s date you wore a pretty red sundress that made your skin glow in the sunlight. It’ll definitely get him to compliment you even more— which you secretly love when he does. Changbin calls you before he heads out to the date, letting you know how excited he is to see you again. You couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot on the train as you made your way to the destination, thinking about what he’s planned for you two next. This time you’ll be meeting up at a park but you still have no clue what you’re doing.

Changbin texts you where exactly he is in the park, it was pretty huge so it took you a while to get to him. As you get closer you see him sitting on a large blanket by the lake, on top of it were a bunch of different foods and snacks scattered all around that came out of a huge picnic basket. You were speed walking at this point trying to get to him. His arms opened out for a hug and you lean right into him, what you didn’t expect was for him to suddenly stand up and lift you in his arms to swing around you like a doll.

“Put me down I’m scared of heights!” You squeal out in fear of being too high up in the air. Maybe you really should’ve taken the bio on his profile more seriously when he mentioned certain things.

Finally putting you down after minutes go by of you protesting, Changbin sits you back onto the blanket. He brought an assortment of breads, cheese, fruits, lemonade that he made himself and a couple seltzers. You’ve never seen anyone put such time and effort into a date before, even being here with him is like living in a daydream. He was definitely succeeding in making you feel comfortable, which is something you never thought was possible with men. He actually took his time getting to know you and didn’t sound arrogant whenever he talked about himself, Changbin was so different than other guys who’ve tried hitting on you in the past. He was actually respectful, intelligent, and could easily carry a conversation without long, awkward pauses.

He was literally everything you’re looking for in a guy. But you’ll be seeing him for this week only then it’s bye bye forever. That revelation makes you a little upset, but you try pushing those thoughts in the back of your mind. It’s irrelevant and unnecessary to think about. Yet you can’t help but wonder about certain things though, wanting to know more about his job and what it’s like on a daily basis for him.

“Can I ask you something? I need you to answer it honestly.” You say out of nowhere, hoping that didn’t come out as weird as you thought.

Changbin nods, “of course, shoot.”

“How many clients do you usually get?”

This question definitely catches him off guard, he’s never really been asked this before and he’s debating on if he should as it might be a breach of privacy.

“I don’t think I can answer that, sorry.” He responds in the nicest way possible, but deep down he wants to know why you’d want to know how many other people he sees a day.

You were going to push him a bit more to try and get an answer but you decide to let it go and just enjoy the rest of the picnic. You didn’t want to bring the mood down with your odd questions and/or end up making him feel so uncomfortable that he won’t want to see you anymore. It was definitely something you shouldn’t have asked but you were curious to know anyway. Overall besides that small incident, you had another wonderful time with Changbin and couldn’t wait for tomorrow to come any faster.

Changbin had a foolproof way of getting you to blush like a giddy high school teen whenever he texted you. He’d always refer to you as ‘pretty girl’ or ‘princess’ which gave you insane amount of butterflies. You loved how clingy he could get and would double text when you don’t reply fast enough, always needing constant attention from you which you never minded giving.

He texted you at around three in the afternoon, proposing his next plan for today’s date.

‘Let’s go out for drinks tonight, it’s all on me ;)’

You liked his message, replying that you’ll be there and put a series of hearts at the end. Speaking of hearts, yours is fluttering at high altitudes from the way you can’t stop thinking about your “boyfriend” Changbin. This has been better than anything you could’ve expected, you never want this week to come to an end. It’s only been three days but you’ve begun to grow feelings for him, they weren’t too strong just yet but they were most definitely there. You couldn’t let that halt you from having a good time tonight, you’ll have to accept it soon enough he’s not your actual boyfriend. He’s doing this because you paid him to, if it wasn’t for your money he wouldn’t be here right now.

‘This relationship is purely transactional’ you unfortunately keep reminding yourself of the reality you’re in. Psyching yourself out of this sudden somber mood that’s consuming you, distracting your pessimism by raiding your closet for some cute clothes to wear tonight’s date. After what seemed like hours of tearing your entire room apart, you decide to settle on this sparkly black mini tube dress, pairing it with a leather jacket and more platform shoes because you’re obsessed with feeling tall. Once it’s 7 PM you head out to the bar you’re seeing Changbin at, he was already waiting for you inside the place. Eyes instantly lighting up when he sees you coming towards him, just like he always does he motions for a hug, pulling you in tightly like he hasn’t seen you in years.

His hugs felt so cozy, like sitting in front of the fireplace on a crisp, snowy winter’s evening. You never wanted to escape the warmth of his arms, it was one of those forms of physical touch that felt so overly personal to you. The thought of him hugging someone the same way he hugs you slightly enrages something in your spirit but again, it isn’t your place to get genuinely upset over him doing his job. You’re not entitled to him exclusively, but you feel like if you keep this up feelings will only continue to develop. This wasn’t something you considered when going into this and now you feel like you’ve just made a huge mistake.

“You okay babe?” Changbin notices you acting a bit strange, choosing not to pursue it after telling him you’re fine. He knows something’s wrong but doesn’t want to mess up the flow of the date, instead he orders a drink for the both of you and switches on to a lighter subject. “Let’s go shopping tomorrow at that new centre that just opened last week. I need to buy some new AirPods, I accidentally lost one of them in a taxi..”

“Sure,” you nod at his suggestion, in desperate need of some new clothes anyway. “Sorry about your AirPods, that sucks!”

He takes a sip of his bubbly drink that’s now on the table, “Eh, it’s okay this is probably the fourth time this has happened so far.” This has pretty much become a regular occurrence for him by now.

As the date progresses, things continue getting better. You’re both laughing, engaging in much deeper conversation than ever before. You definitely had more than enough alcohol in your system by now, feeling congested and claustrophobic as more people came into the bar. Changbin takes note of your discomfort and asks if you want to get some fresh air outside, you wasted absolutely no time to agree.

While you two were outside continuing your chat about some wild conspiracy he read about online, Changbin’s attention was soon drawn to a different building nearby. Gazing up in confusion at his sudden outburst of excitement, you wonder where he could be leading you next.

“Noraebang!” He shouts loud enough anyone miles away could’ve heard that, he’s now grabbing your hand to frantically drag you along with him.

You were never one to carry a tune but Changbin was actually very good at karaoke and singing in general, he had such a lovely voice. You could seriously listen to him sing all night— which you basically did since you kept begging for an encore until it hit 4 am. That’s when you both decided to finally call it a night, you wanted to pay for the Uber since he’s paid for all the drinks and every other expenses for today. You felt bad because you were the one renting him to be your boyfriend yet he’s constantly shelling out money left and right. He still insisted on paying and ultimately won the whole debacle, making you swallow your pride and get into the Uber with him. Changbin’s definitely not just someone you’re going to forget about after this week is over. You dread the day this all comes to an end, wishing there was a way to relive these moments again and again.

“I’m a little under the weather today, sorry I can’t make it Binnie.” Your voice is hoarse from coughing and unbearable throat pain. You’ve already consumed half a bag of cough drops, throat lozenges, and random cold medicine you’ve found in your cabinets.

He sounds mildly disappointed, but springs back up with a new proposal, “I can come over and bring some soup if you’d like!”

You appreciate his gesture but still refuse, you know he’s only saying all this because he has to, not because he wants to. “N-no you don’t have to, I’m sure you can go see other clients today. One less person to worry about right?”

The call went silent for a minute, he wasn’t quite sure how to respond to such a deprecating comment.

“I don’t want to see other clients, I want to see you ___.” He sighs, unwilling to give up so easily, “I’ll be at your place soon, m’kay?” He hangs up before you could even respond or say no again.

You had no choice but to wait for Changbin to show up now. Before you got sick, the last two dates you went on were debatably the best so far. You had gone out shopping together, accidentally wearing almost the same kind of outfit. Changbin was wearing a white graphic tee with blue baggy jeans and you wore something practically identical. The two of you looked like a real, official couple and people would stare as you walked hand in hand, it really did seem like the perfect relationship on the outside.

You got even closer when he came over the following day, resulting in you two cuddling while watching movies and baking cookies. He’s expressed that he’s never been to another client’s home before but it wasn’t “technically” against any rules. The more you kept hanging out together, the harder it was coming to terms with the fact you’re actually falling for Changbin. He made every experience with you more exciting than the last, which he did exactly that night. When the cookies were done you fed a piece to him, making little airplane sounds as you do it, he eagerly takes a bite of the chewy treat and compliments both your efforts.

“These taste way better than I thought, oh my god they literally melt in your mouth. Try it!” He takes another cookie from the tray and feeds it to you this time.

There was something so overly domestic about that moment you couldn’t shake the feelings of wanting to kiss him right then and there. But you can’t. If you did such a thing you’d never be allowed to see him again, plus you don’t want to be known as that one creepy client who just couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. As you were cuddling on the couch though, things may have taken a turn for the better… or worse?

Changbin would “yawn” at the movie and subtly wrap his arm around you, he’d subconsciously pull you in closer and it didn’t make it any better that you were under the same blanket. You weren’t complaining at any of this though, you were pretty much in heaven. It took everything in you not to look up and stare, gluing your eyes to the movie that was displayed on the TV. But as the night progressed you were practically snuggling up with him like he was your real boyfriend. The way he’d run his fingers gently down your back, soothing you in a way that could lull you asleep. His touch was the most relaxing thing ever, you were so calm with him and loved how he brought a side of you that’s never been shown. After this encounter you can no longer deny the way you feel— you are officially falling deeply in love your rental boyfriend, Seo Changbin.

The sound of your doorbell ringing alarms you of a new visitor, who was none other than your “boyfriend” waiting patiently outside the door for you. You feel and look like death itself, coming downstairs to answer the door still in your PJ’s and hair a disheveled mess. Every five seconds was interrupted with you coughing your lungs out, barely able to speak above a whisper. Changbin looks thrilled as ever to see you, even when you clearly don’t look your best he’s still coming up to hug you tightly. His hugs are always blocking off your airways from the way his muscles squeeze you, it’s even worse when you’re sick— practically gasping for air.

“Sorry babyy, I just missed you so much. I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day and soon as you said you’re sick I dropped everything to go make you this soup. It’s a specialty I make whenever my friends are sick, the perfect remedy to cure my princess.” He goes into your kitchen to heat up the soup in your microwave, making you wait patiently on the couch as you’re wrapped up in multiple blankets.

Your body feels like it’s -2 degrees, you were freezing. The crazy thing is your thermostat was set to 80 degrees, it was definitely you that was the problem. He propped your feet up on the table, rested a tray in your lap and set the bowl of soup on top. Brushing a couple strands of hair out your face he looks at you intently, examining your symptoms as if he’s a doctor.

“It’ll be okay soon love, I’m here to nurse you back to health again. Can’t see my pretty baby sick like this, makes me all sad.” He pouts, giving you a soft head pat like you’re a delicate kitten.

He takes a spoonful of the hot soup, slightly blowing on it before telling you to open up so you can eat. You don’t know what’s gotten into you but you feel like he’s gone too far with all this. It’s not fair for you to continue on if it’s just become torture now. He’s practically dangling in your face that you’ll never have a partner as perfect as him in your life.

“I- I can’t do this anymore Changbin..” you say lowly, refusing to eat the soup he made.

“What do you mean? I’m just feeding you soup, it’s my duty as your boyfriend to-”

“This isn’t real… none of it is. I’m stupid for even doing this but I was lonely.. I’m sorry but I’d prefer something that isn’t temporary.” You cut him off to express your pent up frustrations, ready to be let down and rejected by him as gently as possible.

“Then let’s make it real,” he proposes without any hesitation, “honestly I stopped faking it around our third date, it was all me after that. I never said anything because well… this is my job and I’ve never fallen for a client before so this is still all very new to me..”

You’d be screaming right now if you weren’t sick, instead you’re internally freaking out at this confession, it feels like your hearts doing cartwheels and somersaults.

“Seriously?” Eyes widening as you look at him, suddenly your body heat rises and you know it’s not because of the soup or the layers of blankets that’s covering you.

He nods, “I thought it was kinda obvious when we kissed yesterday..”

Oh yeah… you forgot that did happen. You thought it was another fever dream you might’ve just made up in your head. You shared your first kiss with someone you deemed so special and important to you, someone you never would’ve guessed could come into your life and shift the entirety of your world like magic. There was no one else in existence you wanted more than Changbin.

“Doesn’t that mean you’ll have to quit your job? I don’t want to be the reason you stop making such good income.. I’ll feel so bad.” You knew deep down you didn’t feel that badly about him quitting to date you instead. It was just the thought of him leaving something he’s been doing for years behind all for some girl he’s known for simply a week.

He shrugs at your comment, “I’ll be just fine, I was planning on finding a new job soon anyway. It gets kinda old after a while, I felt like I was on autopilot most of the time. You were able to get me to open up and show my true self, I could never thank you enough for that ___.” Changbin couldn’t resist the urge to plant a kiss to your forehead.

After everything that’s been said and done. What you’ve come to understand is that love is learned, a development that takes time to grow and blossom into something extraordinary. Just like learning a new language or a musical instrument, we learn love from society and cultures we’re raised in, it’s a beautiful thing once we know how to cherish it. Your newfound romance with Changbin is something you’ll learn to cherish forever and ever.

[End <3].

#skz fluff #skz x reader #changbin fluff #seo changbin fluff #stray kids imagines #skz drabbles #changbin x reader #changbin skz #changbin x female reader #seo changbin x reader #stray kids fluff #changbin scenarios #changbin drabbles #changbin imagines #skz au #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #stray kids drabbles #skz imagines

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roturo · 6 months

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↷ ⋯ ♡ᵎ 7 NUTS IN NOVEMBER!

‧₊˚✩彡‧ HAHA!, HE COULDN'T KEEP IT IN FOR MORE THAN 7 DAYS! gojo satoru x afab!reader °˖✧

tags: smut, no nut november, handjob, perv!gojo satoru, pantie stealing, jerking off, roomates au, college au, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, tummy buldge, cream pie, kinda of switch gojo, riding, mentions of dry orgasm & blue balls.

Gojo always thought this “no nut november” was just pure immature shit for guys his age that couldn’t keep their hands off a day their dick or someone’s pussy. And he tried to divert the conversation's theme, not wanting to play these silly games…

But c’mon, Gojo is a man with a big ego that couldn’t bare with comments that he would be the first to lose thanks to having a hot roommate– obviously he wouldn’t resist the urge to jack off or fuck someone.

So that’s how he accepted the bet; everyone puts in a hundred dollars, and the winner gets it all. It’s a nice price, isn't it? Suguru, Kento, Toji and Choso, that’s 500 hundred dollars easily in his bag –pride bag because he doesn’t need the money– It couldn’t be that hard right?

DAY 1

Nice start, new month, new activities to distract himself. He did the usual– wake up, make breakfast, hit the gym, go and pretend to pay attention in class, play silly games on his phone while waiting for you to go and prepare or get dinner. –Nothing to worry about.

DAY 3

Okay, he was doing good right now. Like, really good. He couldn’t believe Toji already lost the bet, feeling even prouder of himself for not being that kind of guy to be that desperate for some pussy. Or to be watching someone in little shorts that leave nothing to imagination, wearing his shirt while waking up– messy hair like if someone played with them the whole night, husky voice, and those shorts marking the exact division of where your pussy lips were hiding. He was doing good, yeah.

DAY 6

Okaay. This wasn’t normal of him, cleaning his whole room again and again, trying to find something to distract himself after watching you come out of the shower, or fuck by just seeing you. He knew you were pretty hot, you’re funny and like the best roommate and friend he could ever ask for. And holy fucking shit, he swore he would never see you in another way– he would never admit it you got his attention and he would leave any girl by his side just for you to give him a chance, but god, he’s losing himself right now.

DAY 7

One week, 7 days, 168 hours, 10080 minutes, 604800 seconds, fucking shit. He’s not touching himself right now, he’s not doing anything to lose right now. Suguru lost the bet yesterday, it was just Kento, Choso and him right now. He could do this, yeah, he could do this. Fucking shit! He's not doing anything against the rules right now! He’s not watching porn, or jerking off, or shit, his hand is traveling down right now. He is trying, he really is. But the moment he saw your panties accidentally almost falling into the dirty clothes bin he couldn’t resist himself. And fucking. shit. Right now he felt even worse than those guys that couldn’t resist a day without jerking off.

He’s really trying to take the panties off his face right now, but it’s like his hand is just smashing down the panties closer to him, because your scent was driving him crazy. He didn’t even realize he was already touching himself, small whimpers coming out his mouth– breathy whines calling out for you.

…

Okay. This wasn’t how you expected to know, when, where, and with what, Satoru was about to lose the bet the silly guys decided to join. You just laughed in Suguru’s face when he told you, already knowing all of them would lose not even a week in. But the sight you were looking at right now could justify not laughing at Satoru’s loss.

Cock out, a visible wet spot on his sweats that you suppose were the battle before getting them off– the wet sounds filling the room, he was biting his shirt so his exposed abdomen and chest was seen, while his other hand was gripping the panties on his face. Your panties. And holy shit, it’s like you were attracted to sit on the bed next to his body, and he was too lost in pleasure he didn’t realize you were there, before you placed your hand on his cock and jerk him off.

His eyes opened wide and surprised at the sight before, letting out a loud moan and dumping a big portion of his white liquid on your hand and his, while some of it landed on his chest. He was a breathy mess, chest rising up and down. “I can’t believe The Gojo Satoru would lose this way. With just a pair of panties.” A visible smirk plastered all over your face, Before slightly squeezing his sensitive cock which gave you a high whimper in response.

“Please… Just.. let me fuck your for once.” His voice was almost audible because of how breathy he sounded, just like a siren voice you couldn’t deny his instruction, you got each of your legs next to his so you were straddling him. Your pajama shorts making it easier for you to undress, a visible wet spot on your panties while he could see your perky nipples praying to leave your shirt and be exposed. And his next movement surprised you, he didn’t even ask, it was like he wasn’t on his right mind when he ripped your panties, a gasp coming out of you, giving him a glare.

“I couldn’t care less about your panties right now, I’ll buy you a million just to rip them off and fuck this pussy a million times.”

Gojo’s hands are all over your chest as he leans forward, lips attaching themselves to the skin on your neck. A soft moan tumbles from your lips as your hand digs into his silky, white hair and tugs, earning a low groan from the man beneath you. Your lips are parted as your hips start moving, grinding down on his cock, your clit rubbing against his lower abdomen for every time you move.

“Oh god,” you moan, head tilting back in pure pleasure when he pushes his hips up and meeting you halfway, his cock finally enters you, hitting all the sensitive spots inside of you. Gojo’s mouth catches yours, kissing you as his hands let go of your breasts and slide around to your body, spreading across the expanse of your back and pulling you closer.

He calls out your name, making you look back at him– “Please… make me cum, it hurts”

He swears his balls were swollen with how much cum he had, he really wanted to fuck you until he cums dry. Maybe that could happen another day he wasn’t this fucked out already with the feeling your pussy around his cock. He was using all his force to fuck himself inside you, you weren’t even moving anymore, all the bounces thanks to him. Red marks from his hands gripping your waist already ready to appear.

“Ahhh Ssshit, I can’t- ha! anymore…” A hard thrust of himself made your body completely shiver, your eyes rolling back so all you could see were stars while he gave some last few thrusts before dumping another portion of him inside you. “Sshit, I might just get you pregnant at this point. You wouldn’t even need to study anymore, I could buy you the whole world if you make me a daddy right now.”

Of course he could say that, but both of you still have a life to live, and you’re not against the idea of being by his side this time. “We can still fuck plenty of times more before jumping to the next step ´toru” A visible bump of his cock and liquid being slightly visible in your tummy, both of you looking down at it and immediately made itself more noticeable, looking back at a flustered, tears dry Gojo with a shy smile adorning his face. “Ahh.. shit, seven days were a lot I guess…”

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wynnyfryd · 7 months

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Trailer Park Steve AU part 6

part 1 | part 5

October

It's Wednesday night, which means dinner at the Hendersons. Steve finally decided to show his face — and no, not because Dustin's doorstep song and dance had any effect on him; it was partly because he was sick of hearing muted metal music from across the street and mostly because he hadn't left the trailer in three days and he was starting to feel and smell like shit.

So, anyway. Dinner. Ma Henderson's pulled out all the stops: prepped a homemade lasagna, stocked the fridge with full-sugar sodas and bought the good brand of key lime pie; invited the Sinclair and Wheeler kids to make a little party of it. (Nancy was 'unfortunately too busy to attend,' thank fucking god.)

But then Ma got stuck late at work, so now it's all hands on deck. Mike and Erica are setting the table — Steve can hear Mike bitching at her because she told him the knives go the other way, dumbass; Lucas is at the fridge filling cups with ice and Pepsi and muttering to himself about how much better Coke is; Steve's got an eye on the oven, waiting for the cheese on the lasagna to bubble up juuust right; and Dustin is using "prepping the salad" as an excuse to corner Steve and annoy the ever-loving crap out of him.

“What do you mean it’s hard?” Dustin whines, dropping a handful of shredded carrots into the wooden bowl. “Just talk to him!”

Steve takes a deep breath. Mourns, briefly, for the night he could have had; the girls he could be doing hand stuff with in the back of the Beemer instead of putting up with this kid's shit. “I don’t wanna Just Talk to Him." He bends to peek through the oven door. "And, also: get off my ass about it, alright? I came to dinner, I'm heating up the lasagna. I'm, like, participating or whatever. What more do you want?”

“For you to talk to Eddie! Obviously!" Dustin's tossing the greens so aggressively that it kinda feels like he wishes he was pummeling Steve instead, and when he throws his hands up, little flecks of iceberg lettuce go raining to the floor.

Steve eyes the leafy green confetti. "You're cleaning that up."

"Come on, dude," Dustin begs. "It's been two weeks! What's the point of having friends who are next door neighbors if they refuse to get along?”

Behind them, Lucas supplies in a weirdly strangled tone: “This really doesn’t seem like the way to get him to talk to Eddie."

Thank you. Steve couldn't agree more. He turns to tell him as much and realizes the reason Lucas' voice sounded like that is because he's trying to make one trip to the dining room at any fucking cost. He's got an armful of drinking glasses and three cans of Pepsi tucked under his chin, and he's about to fumble the whole wobbly stack.

"Jesus Christ, man, cut that out!" Steve swoops in to grab the cans before they can join the lettuce shower Dustin just made. He doesn't care how much he loves Claudia, he will leave without helping if they splatter soda all over this floor. Mews the Second can lick it clean for all he cares, he's so for real. "Two at a time," he says sternly, taking the extra cups from Lucas’ hold and handing him back a reasonable amoint. He sends Lucas out of the room with a knee to the ass.

"Hey!" Lucas pouts.

"Hey yourself," he grins.

Lucas sticks out his tongue like a child (because he is one, Steve reminds himself), and when he shoulders the swinging door to the dining room he almost brains his little sister, who makes a graceful side-step and comes strutting through undeterred.

"Are you two nerds done playing good cop, annoying cop with Steve?"

"Ah-!" Dustin gawps. "I better not be the annoying cop!"

"Uh, yeah. Obviously, you are." She props a fist on her hip, a little tyrant in the making, and Steve’s ribs go tender with a fond, vaguely proud ache. He really loves her so much. "Now scram. I need to borrow Steve."

On second thought.

Surely at some point these kids, like, owe him money or some shit for the amount of weary sighs they've caused him to let out. Like, financial compensation for the years taken off his life? Something?

"Yes, Erica?" he asks, nostrils flared; eyes closed.

"You should talk to Eddie."

"Oh, Jesus fucking Christ." Steve looks up to the ceiling, pleading for anyone to grant him strength, then he turns to pull the lasagna out of the oven and watches the bubbles sizzle and pop in the hot cheese until he no longer feels like blowing up at a little girl. "Okay. Okay. And I should listen to you because…?"

Screw financial compensation.

He deserves a presidential medal for how calm he's keeping his tone.

Erica's glaring fiercely at him when he glances her way, and why is every kid he knows such a brave, confrontational little shit? "Because," she explains, "He's being mean to my brother."

Oh, fuck no. "What do you mean?" he asks, voice dropping to an urgent hiss as he feels his hackles raise. Like hell is he letting some Billy 2.0 hang around his kids. "Is he, like- Is he saying shit about you guys?"

She spares him from trying to find a tactful way to ask what he's really asking. "No," she says shortly. "But he is being a bastard about him joining the basketball team—"

"Language—" Oh, what's the point.

"—and those two nerds out there? Are obsessed with him. Especially Mike. Like, ob-sessed.” She writes the letters out in the air in front of her to really drive home the point. “Mike likes whatever Eddie likes, so you need to convince Eddie to like Lucas before Lucas loses his friends over this stupid 'jocks versus freaks' crap." She lowers her voice and jabs the skywriting finger into his shoulder hard enough to bruise. "And if you tell Lucas I said any of this? It is on. sight, Steve. I will crush you."

"Jesus Christ."

"So, we good?"

"Uh huh," Steve stammers. "Y-yep. Understood."

Wow. So dignified, Steve. Really loved how you let a ten year old intimidate you. He's saved from any further bullying by the sound of keys jangling in the lock.

"Dusty!" Claudia calls out through the door, "Dustybunny, can you come help? My hands are full!"

In the dining room Steve hears Dustin groan while Mike and Lucas start immediately tearing into him for the name, mocking 'Dustybunny; oh, Dustybun!' in stupid sing-song tones.

"So I'm just gonna..." Steve says awkwardly, inching toward the door. "Go get that."

"Mhmm." Erica gives him an unimpressed look. "You do that."

—

"Oh, Steve, sweetie, thank you!" Claudia says when he opens the door, cheerful and sweet as always. He goes to take her bags from her, but she drops them all at her feet and steps forward to give him a hug, a firm and tender thing that makes an annoying lump form in his throat.

"How are you?" she asks, stepping back to look at him; eyes raking over his face, hands on his cheeks. Really looks. She frowns at whatever she sees. "How's your mom?"

"Can you please just talk to me?" Steve begs, shivering in the hallway because they haven't budgeted for turning on the heat just yet. Wasn't supposed to get this cold for another pay cycle. He tugs the ends of his sweatshirt sleeves. His limbs feel stiff and tense, a budding anxiety like there’s a bomb in the base of his spine.

"Steven, darling, not now," his mother sighs as she sinks demurely onto the couch. "Then when!" he explodes. He doesn't want to yell at her, but, "Seriously, when? When are we going to say anything to each other that actually fucking matters, mom? I feel like I barely even know you anymore!"

"Yes, and I feel a migraine coming on; are you quite finished?"

"….She's fine," Steve answers.

Could be true, for all he knows.

The wrinkles between Claudia's brows deepen, like she wants to press the subject but decides to hold her tongue. "That's good to hear," she settles on after a moment, giving him a gentle pat on the cheek before stepping away with a subtle look that’s not mad, just disappointed.

Steve kind of wants to cry.

"Mom! Food!" Dustin hollers from the other room.

Steve rolls his eyes. "I swear I try to teach him manners."

"Well, good luck with that," she grins, the shadow of tension between them dissipating. Her mood is good like that. Resilient. Strong. Immune to outside force.

Steve’s moods, on the other hand, are more like those stainless steel fridges that promise to remain spotless but then end up covered in grubby handprints. (Exhibit A: he’s doing it right now.)

Thankfully Claudia’s got enough sunshine in her for the both of them. “Come on,” she says, extending a hand and wiggling her fingers for him to grab hold. “Let's eat."

—

part 7

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #dustin henderson #claudia henderson #erica sinclair #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler

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skteezcursed · 2 months

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❝MY EVERYTHING❞ — c.jh (request)

PAIRING. choi jongho x fem!reader.

SYNOPSIS. jongho has always been your person, as well as you were his. neither of you knew exactly when everything shift from friendship to love, neither knew how madly in love either were. you trusted him blindly. he would move mountains for you. all you both needed to do was to say the three little words.

GENDER. smut. pure fluff.

AU/TROPES. best friends to lover. idiots in love. college au. jongho is a simp.

RATING. R (+18) - MDNI.

WARNINGS. soft sex. cunnilingus. handjob. blowjob. fingering. dry humping/thigh riding. unprotected sex (pull out method and please don’t do this). cock warming (kinda). let me know if i forgot anything.

WORD COUNT. 12k (a little more than you requeste but i did it haha).

NOTES. english is not my first language. jongho is the sweetest. all the boys pariticipate, but mostly WooSanSang. this story is for pookie minnie (@yourlocaljonghoe), hope you like it, sorry for the delay. thank you @bro-atz for being the beta! bye ♡.

IMPORTANT. this is a work of fiction, it has zero intent on portraing how any of the people quoted here are in real life.

CREDS. dividers by cafekitsune ♡

It was ridiculously pathetic, it had to be.

There was no way everything could possibly get better, feel better, just be better because you entered a space, and yet, the rays of sunshine felt like they shine brighter, the wind of early fall could be felt on his skin (as if he wasn't in the closet out space of the library), the hushed conversations quickly muffled as all his eyes could see was you entering the library with your laptop and books in hand, your bag hanging from your shoulder as your hand took some of the hair away from your face.

He knew it was wrong, to feel the things he felt for you, you were his best friend after all, but he just couldn’t control it. You have always been there for him during middle and high school, people used to joke that you two were a couple, he had even helped you get away from unwanted attention, that was probably when it all started, when he started to look at you differently, when your touch started to burn his skin in a good way, when the butterflies in his stomach stopped being from anxiety and started to be because you were close to him, your hand in some part of his body, or simply when your eyes found his, followed or not by a small smile.

It was only when you sat in front of him that he realized how he was staring, feeling his ears turn red but thankfully your attention was mostly focused on your things. Both had different subjects as you two were from different courses, but you always find time to study together, even if just for a bit, a habit you both got mainly thanks to how difficult high school had been.

“How were your classes? I thought you’d be here only later.”

“Last one got canceled,” he tried not to focus on your face, rather at your hands and how you splattered everything at the table, making a small smile appear on his lips. “You know you don’t need to bring your whole house to your classes and such, right?”

“As if you don’t always try to get at least one of these from me whenever we study together,” you laughed before throwing an eraser in his direction which he easily catches, making you roll your eyes. “Anyway, do you mind if someone joins our study session?”

“Someone?”

It wasn’t common for that to happen, mostly because either of you had a project together with someone else, but since classes had barely started, it didn’t really made sense for someone else to enter your little study sessions.

“Yeah, he’s actually my senior, we gonna help each other out in two different projects,” if you had been paying attention, you’d notice how Jongho’s eyes widened slightly and how his Adam’s apple went up and down nervously. He had seen you before with other guys, going out and having fun, but it always caught him off guard when you asked first, since the last time you asked if someone could join, ‘they’ ended up becoming your boyfriend. “He’s super nice I promise you’ll like him! His name is Seonghwa and he’s the sweetest!”

“Oh, yeah,” he tried to compose himself a little so you wouldn’t notice the frown on his face or how slightly annoyed he was. Although he didn’t really expect you to see through his actions or wait for him to finally grow a pair and finally ask you out, it still hurt the fact that everything didn’t seem anything other than a friend caring for another, “is he coming now or?”

“(y/n)?” Both raised your heads as a figured stood beside you, making Jongho hide his jealousy the best he could. The man was one of the most wanted guys on college. Perfect slick back hair, perfect teeth, perfect smile, perfect height, perfect body, perfectly polite, a gentleman if all, and he had his eyes focused on you, as your smile spread widely as his presence was noted. “Hope I didn’t take too long, had to fix a few things with the teacher.”

So, he was supposed to join regardless of what Jongho said? What if he said no? Would you still have had Seonghwa joining in on your session?

“Hey Seonghwa! It’s okay, don’t worry!” You two exchanged quick hugs before you pointed to Jongho. “This is the guy I was telling you about, Jongho!”

“Oh, the famous Jongho! Hello!” Famous?, Seonghwa’s hand was stretched out to Jongho who quickly took it, a polite smile on his lips as Seonghwa took the chair on your side. “I’m so sorry to barge in and wanting to do this fast, I just -”

“It’s okay, I know,” God and you gave him that smile? Jongho quickly lowered his head, trying to focus on the book in front of him, trying to ignore how you and Seonghwa giggled at each other. “- right, Jjong?”

His head quickly raised at the sound of his name leaving your lips, finding both you and Seonghwa staring back at him, before clearing his own throat trying to buy a little bit of time.

“Yeah, sure,” that was the right answer, or at least he hoped, although he knew he would say yes to whatever you asked of him. As he watched your smile widening, he couldn’t help but smile himself, but once your attention shifted to Seonghwa, who also had a big smile, something shifted in him, not going unnoticed by the senior. “I- I have to go though -”

“What already?” You whined making his movements stop for a second, Seonghwa’s eyes not missing the interaction between you and your best friend. “I just got here! We were supposed to go to the diner later on our way back!”

“I won’t be long, I just needed to check all the details,” Seonghwa’s voice was quick, his gaze shifting between you and Jongho, “sorry to interrupt, we talk later, yes? I’ll text you!”

He had your number already?, Jongho cursed himself at that thought, he was your senior, you were doing a project together, of course he would have your number, but why did that bother him so much?

“Ok, we’ll talk more later, I’ll also check with Mingi and Yunho about when you can come over so we can start the project!”

“I’ll try to reason with Hongjoong, but with Eden’s last feedback he got into his own head and -”

“I get it!” You cut him with a smile, Jongho’s eyes observing everything, how your smile would widen, and a small giggle came out at Seonghwa’s words, how his eyes would linger a little longer on your face before falling down and back up. “I’ll text you once I get back from the boys, okay?”

“Yeah sure! Thank you (y/n), you are a life saver and,” as the seniors voice trailed away, Jongho realized he was now the focus of the attention as you eyed him pointing your head towards Seonghwa, who studied Jongho’s reactions, “thank you Jongho, it’s really nice to meet you, I’m happy to have finally met (y/n)’s best friend after all the things she said about you.”

“What did she say?” His eyes traveled down to you who lowered your head, but he could still see the red tips of your ears and the shy smile on your lips before looking back at Seonghwa who had his eyebrows slightly raised at the two of you. Clearing his throat, Jongho turned his attention to the senior. “Either way, it was a pleasure to meet you too Seonghwa.”

The older one just nodded with a small smirk your way before kissing the top of your head and walk out of the library. Jongho’s leg bouncing like crazy under the desk, trying to not demonstrate how that small interaction made his intestines twist, his jealous curiosity trying to figure it out how did you two got so close so fast. It was only when he saw your raised eyebrows that he notices he had been staring, again.

“Okay, spit it out,” you crossed your arms on top of the book, your eyes analyzing his face, “he is nice, you seemed to like him, so why that frown on your head is present?”

“I don’t have a frown,” the bouncing getting worse as he turned his eyes away from you, who quickly kicked his still leg under the table, getting a surprised look. “That hurt,” you just smiled tilting your head making him sigh, “how long have you known him though? You plan on having him at your place, are the guys okay with that?”

A shadow of confusion crossed your face before a wide cocky smile take place as you pointed your pen to him.

“You didn’t listen to anything we talked about, did you?” Jongho sighs and lower his head before hearing you scoff and kick him again, making him eye you annoyed. “You didn’t listen to what you agreed and now you are jealous?”

“I’m not jealous,” although he tried to change the topic, you didn’t bulge, throwing the pen you were holding towards him, making him glare at you before shaking his head. “Okay, maybe I didn’t listen to everything, but that doesn’t mean I’m jealous!”

“If you say so,” the victorious smile you had almost made Jongho say something, but what he really wanted was to kiss that away. So what he was jealous? “Either way, you better control your not-jealous face tomorrow, Hwa and Joong are already -”

“Why tomorrow?” You eyed him shaking your head. “What did I agree to?”

“You’ll find out tomorrow once we arrive at Hwa’s place.”

“You barely know him and you calling him ‘Hwa’ and planning on going to his house and-”

“With you,” you cut him slightly annoyed but still amused, you loved when Jongho showed his jealous and protective side, trying to ignore how your heart was beating out of your chest because of that, “I’m going there with you tomorrow, as you agreed, and while you do what you agreed, me and Seonghwa will work on our projects.”

“And what the hell am I doing there?”

The cheeky smile you sent his way make him swallow hard, before you shake your head focusing back on your books.

“That’s on you for not paying attention and agreeing to something you don’t even know what it is.”

Although he tried his best, he couldn’t hold back a smile at your words and the smile you sent him. He couldn’t tell you he just said yes without thinking because it was you who had asked him. He couldn’t pretend he would say ‘yes’ to whatever it was that you might ask of him. He was down bad for his best friend, that was the truth as much as he tried to hide it.

“Earth to lover boy!” Before he could process, one of the cushions of the couch found his head making Jongho glare at two of his roommates, noticing as they exchanged smiles, San shaking his head, as Wooyoung appeared to be having the time of this life. “What did you and (y/n) do today? You are more distant than usual.”

“Nothing happened, what you talking about?”

Jongho sigh and joined them on the couch, San’s eyes lingered on the youngest one a little longer, but before anyone could say anything, Yeosang appeared on the hall, a towel on his shoulder and his clothes in a basket, a knowing smile on his lips, making all the other frown.

“You are not a good liar Jjong,” Yeosang laughed putting his laundry in as all three waited patiently for the older one to emerge. “I saw you three at the library.”

“Three?”

San and Wooyoung said in unison, but Jongho lips were sealed shut, cursing Yeosang as his smile grew wider. The eldest was an innocent angel most of the times, but he could be even more wicked than Wooyoung when he wanted to.

“Jjong and (y/n) were talking when Park Seonghwa entered the library joining them.”

“Wait, THE Park Seonghwa?”

Yeosang nodded at San’s question, both quick to understand why Jongho was sulking so much, but Wooyoung needed more, he always needed more and Jongho was starting to serious considering killing his best friends at that moment.

“The Park Seonghwa? Perfect, handsome, hot looking guy Park Seonghwa? The one that can have any pussy and dick he wants at any time, just by looking at someone?” San and Yeosang tried to hide a laugh as Jongho’s head slightly turned to focus on the second youngest that was still processing the fact that Seonghwa had been around Jongho and you in the afternoon. “Oh, I’m not condemning (y/n), that dick is probably a 10/10!”

“Woo!”

The other two said the same time Jongho’s fist found Wooyoung’s arm, make the other complain in pain holding his arm.

“What? If Jjong isn’t gonna act he can’t be mad if other guys show interest in (y/n)!” Everyone knew Wooyoung was right, Jongho even sigh holding his head down, the image of you and Seonghwa still carved in his brain. “Look, (y/n) is beautiful, smart, kind, funny, any guy would want a girl like that, you can’t blame Seonghwa for that, but,” all eyes turned to him, a cheeky grin on Wooyoung’s lips before he focused on Jongho, “that doesn’t mean you are out of the race, not until he asks and she accepts being with him.”

“Wooyoung is right,” San said with a smile, following the line of the thoughts Wooyoung was trying to show, Yeosang quickly joining them, also understanding what his friend was saying, all three receiving a head shake from Jongho. “C’mon Jjong, you know Woo is right!” As Jongho lifted his head, the others tried to hide a smile, maybe this time he’d listen and finally ask you out. “Why don’t you ask her out tomorrow? Go to the diner, pretend is a normal day and ask her out, ask her to give you a chance, but check first if her and Seonghwa aren’t together.”

“We are going to Seonghwa’s apartment tomorrow,” a groan escapes all their mouths, but Yeosang was quick to stand up, his thinking face making itself visible for all of them. “What is it Yeo?”

“Know your enemy!” All the others kept waiting for Yeosang to finish as we shook his head seating back down, a smart smile on his lips. “First, do you know why you two going to his house?” Jongho shook his head making the others giggle.

“He was probably too busy staring at (y/n).”

Jongho joked he was gonna hit Wooyoung again, making the second youngest try to hide behind San, making the other three laugh.

“I mean, you are not entirely wrong,” he sighs and noticed the other three waiting for him to explain what had happened, “I mean, once he was there, I tried to ignore how she was looking at him, I mean, have you seen the guy?!” All the other nodded, but Jongho ignored sighing, the image of you smiling and giggling with Seonghwa coming back into his mind like a slap in the face. “So, I tried to focus on my studies, which didn’t really work, until she asked me a question and I just nodded agreeing -”

“Yeah, because you are down bad!”

“A simp of the worst kind!”

“Bet you were just trying not to get caught drooling over her.”

He scoffs shaking his head at his best friends’ remarks, getting out the couch hearing them complaining before turning with a hidden smile.

“Look, I know I’m a simp okay? How could I not be? Not when she looks and acts like that!”

“I mean, she’s not too far behind you, so -”

“What you talking about, San?”

The older ones exchanged looks. It wasn’t uncommon for them to turn to Jongho saying you had a crush on him, that they could tell, but he never really bought that, always thinking they were playing with him, so they had stopped talking about it, even if it was obvious how you two looked at each other whenever you were in the same space.

“The same way you are down bad for her, she is for you.”

Jongho scoffed and the other three rolled their eyes.

“She could have Park Seonghwa on around her pinky! Why would she want me?”

“I agree, I never said she was good in the head,” the face Jongho made brought a laugh to the two older ones as Wooyoung was quick on his feet with his hands in front of him asking for Jongho to wait for him to finish, “look, all I’m saying is that you two are blind when it comes to each other, okay? You may not see the way she looks at you, but everyone else does.”

“Why you think people don’t usually come at her asking for a date?” Yeosang continued, standing up just like Wooyoung, standing in front of Jongho with arched eyebrows. “You may be a teddy bear, but you are fucking scary when you want and the looks you give to any guy that approaches her gives us the chills!”

“She dated before, what you guys talking about?”

“She dated because she was tired of waiting for you and someone else took the initiative,” San joined the other two in front of Jongho making the younger one groan in frustration, “look, we don’t know if (y/n) and Seonghwa are together or something, it may be just a homework thing, Seonghwa is an outgoing person, he talks to a lot of people, it may not be what you think.”

“You didn’t see the way he looked at her.”

“Was it anything like you look at her?”

“What was that supposed to mean Yeosang?”

“Did it look like she held the sun, moon and stars, the air in his lungs, like a ray of sunshine after a gloomy day, or -”

“I don’t look at her like that,” he cut Wooyoung making all the other three leave snarky smiles at that comment. “Do I look at her like that?”

“Only when you know she’s not looking at you.”

San commented putting a hand on Jongho’s shoulder pulling him back to the couch and seating him down by the shoulders, the other three circled him with knowing smiles, maybe that was the last push he needed to finally grow a pair and talk to you about his feelings, feelings everyone knew you also had for him, except himself.

“Fine, what do I have to do?”

He was a coward.

He was the most coward person you could ever find.

In his defense, you ended up going to the house first, so he couldn’t bring up anything before, as originally planned and, once he arrived, you were already working on your project with Seonghwa in the living room as you two guided him to meet with Hongjoong.

He needed someone to sing this ballad he had done, but the lyrics were still a mess, and his voice wasn’t as fitting for the song as was expected, the instrumental was almost done, but without the person to sing it, it felt hollow, broken, exactly like the words Eden used to described one of Hongjoong’s latest works.

If he was honest, Jongho liked the lyrics and the instrumental, he knew the song was incomplete, but he liked it nonetheless, the instrumentals were heavenly, as you were so quick to say once Hongjoong finally showed you what he was working on. That was when all his courage fell into pieces.

“Hongjoong! How is this even better than before the summer break? You are a music genius, don’t listen too much into Eden’s words!”

And you kissed him.

On the cheek.

But it was still a kiss.

Seonghwa’s hands firm on your waist, Hongjoong holding your hand with a shy smile.

You and Seonghwa being way too comfortable with each other never made so much sense until that point. You two were hooking up, or almost at it. His hand always on you, waist, hip, shoulder, arm, you name it! He had lost his chance, again.

“- that’s why Jongho is here, right bear?”

Your eyes lit up to find his, a shadow of something caught you off guard, but he quickly nodded, the shadow no longer there, but still made you question what had happened.

“Yeah sure, but I still don’t know how much of a help I can be.”

“Our little angel said your voice is incredible, we need someone to sing that song Joong is writing.”

Our little angel.

God he just wanted to die at that moment.

All the others noticed something was wrong, but as you stepped closer, Hongjoong quickly moved his chair as Seonghwa pulled you closer to him.

“Look, you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, (y/n) showed us some of the recordings from your singing and you have one of the most amazing voices I’ve ever heard and I could also use of another music major for this, you’ll have your credit, don’t worry about that, but I want this to be memorable, perfect even, and I think you can help me achieve that if we work together.”

It was a love song.

You could easily tell by the guide Hongjoong had done with the lyrics he had it done, adding the soft melodic instruments the song was incredibly powerful. Jongho’s eyes found yours, they had concern in them, you were blaming yourself for the discomfort he was feeling, probably because you knew he was shy and singing in front of millions – although it was his dream – was still something too far away to grasp, even with the tips of his fingers.

The fact you had showed them the singing videos, how they acted around you, their little angel, it was more than obvious to him that you and Seonghwa were a thing, you were just trying to find a way to let him know. Hell, he knew you loved to hear him sing, maybe he could use that song to let you know how he felt, all the feelings he harbored for you could go into that song, a small letting go present. He could never be with you, because regardless of his friends’ avid points, you weren’t in love with him like he was with you.

In love.

God how something so beautiful can be such a painful thing?

“I’ll do it.”

And that was how he found himself in Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s place every other weekend. He and Hongjoong working on the song, while you and Seonghwa were somewhere in the apartment as he tried not to notice whenever your laugh became too loud or you two became too quiet, trying not to focus on the idea that you two might be in his room while he was -

“What’s up with you today?”

The song was quickly cut out as Hongjoong stared at Jongho, your muffled laugh and scream managing to pass the soundproof situation Hongjoong created so they could work on the music before using the studio the music students were allowed in only for the final version.

“Nothing is wrong, sorry, I’ll focus I -”

Both were cut as steps were felt on the other side of the door and Hongjoong noticed how Jongho’s face fell as your muffled scream was heard along with Seonghwa’s laugh.

“You do know they are just friends, right?” Jongho’s eyes peaked up at the ‘friends’ word, trying to ignore the smirk that appeared on the elder’s face. “God you two are infuriating, Hwa was right, damn it.”

“What you talking about? They are just friends? But -”

“Seonghwa is in a relationship,” Jongho stopped talking at that, waiting as Hongjoong sighed raising his eyebrows, “me and him are together, we call (y/n) our angel because otherwise we wouldn’t have happened.”

“So… All of this… What -”

“You two are just as idiots as we were,” Hongjoong got up from the chair getting closer to Jongho that was still processing the information, “your voice wasn’t the only reason why we made her talk to you to participate, but also because we wanted to be sure you were just as into her as she is into you.”

“Oh,” he said as he tried to ignore the image of Wooyoung saying ‘I told you so’ popping into his mind. “How can you be sure?”

“Because she told us,” at Jongho’s shocked eyes Hongjoong laughed loudly before going towards the computer playing the song they have been working on for the past month, as it came to an end, the elder’s eyes found the younger ones at the ground. “Did you write those parts thinking about her?”

“That obvious?” Jongho sat down on the couch looking into the sheet of paper with the lyrics, missing the way Hongjoong eyed him. “She’s my best friend Hongjoong, I- I can’t fuck this up and lose her, what if -”

“Can I suggest something?” Jongho’s eyes lifted to meet with Hongjoong’s analytical ones, a simple nod was all he managed to give in response. “Tomorrow you two leave early, you take her back to your place, we’ll talk to Yunho and Mingi and make them find a way to keep her away from the house, you get your roommates out and shoot your shot, but do it properly, she deserves something great after all the time you made her wait.”

Having only Wooyoung, Yeosang and San up his ass about you was nothing compared into having Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho and Mingi as well. Unlucky for him, Seonghwa easily got one of his roommates’ numbers, since he already had Yunho and Mingi’s, and it was easy to make a group chat which made Jongho almost killed Wooyoung for the nth time every time he saw the group chat name pop up.

wooyoung @ please get the baby laid okay, so san is taking care of the fort with yeo I’m almost done with the food, who is coming to pick us up?

yunho @ please get the baby laid I will, if hwa and joong do it she’ll suspect

mingi @ please get the baby laid she already suspects something is up bc we said she cant come home

yunho @ please get the baby laid yeah, bc your excuse was shit

hongjoong @ please get the baby laid it was a horrible excuse, but since it was mingi she let it slide

seonghwa @ please get the baby laid also bc jjong distracted her with books and a trip to the cafe

wooyoung @ please get the baby laid so I made dinner for nothing?

san @ please get the baby laid ignore him, we ready, we leaving the food in the oven

yeosang @ please get the baby laid yunho don’t forget to grab the chocolate bouquet on your way over!

yunho @ please get the baby laid I wont, I’m on my way!

“Are you cheating on me?” Jongho never locked his phone a put it away as fast as in that moment, making you raise your eyebrows and open your mouth slightly. “Who is she? Is she prettier than me?”

“Of course not, you are the most beautiful person to walk on earth,” that wasn’t a lie in his view, it was also something he would casually drop at you from time to time, you knew that, but still, always surprised you, awakening the butterflies in your stomach you tried to always keep dormant. “I may be an idiot but I’m not that idiot to be cheating on my favorite girl in this world.”

Ever since yesterday Jongho decided to be bolder, to show more of his true intentions to you, his true feelings, and he was loving every hint of pink and red he could see on your face and ears. It almost made him realize that, maybe, this may work. That the others were right and you both felt the same thing, and God he wish it would be true.

“You can’t say shit like that Jjong!”

“Why not? It’s not a lie.”

Maybe, but you playing with my feelings is a problem, you wanted to scream that at him. Cursing him over and over thanks to all the things he had awoken at the same time in you since the day before once you two left Hwa and Joong’s apartment. You couldn’t lie and pretend you weren’t enjoying the attention, not that you liked the fact that Seonghwa and Hongjoong forgot to tell both of you they had a date with tickets they bought a few weeks prior, or even the fact that Mingi said you couldn’t go home until late at night, you knew he probably would have someone over and wouldn’t want you or Yunho to hear him, so you were more than happy when Jongho said his roommates wouldn’t be home and you could stay there as long as you wanted.

You just didn’t expect all the flirting he was doing, but you would never complain.

“People may think something else,” you focused on your drink and the three hard cover books he bought for you, your fingers lingering a little longer on the titles, his eyes focused on you, observing, trying to get any hint you may give him, “besides, I’ve seen some girls looking at you while we were picking up the drinks, one of them looks really pretty and your type.”

It hurt you to say these, but he was your best friend and nothing more could ever happen, or you may lose him. You didn’t care if Seonghwa, Hongjoong, Yunho and Mingi kept saying you were just running away, taking the easy way out, the cowards way, the thought of possibly losing Jongho was too much of a risk, you preferred to have him as a friend than nothing at all, all because you couldn’t help yourself on falling for your best friend.

“I don’t want them though,” the form he said it, so nonchalant caught your attention, making you eye him curious, trying to hide the hurt that you felt inside, the idea that he may have someone. You knew he had been with other people before, but he never really introduced you to them. Once you realized that you tried to move on, started dating someone, but there was only one man that made you feel wanted and loved, and that man was sitting in front of you drinking his americano. “I already have someone in mind, it would be mean to get involved with someone if I have another on mind, no?”

The entering of the knife was quick, but the twist was tortuously slow, the final blow being the smile he gave you. The smile you loved so much that you had only seen directed to you, but now he’s using it to talk about someone else, someone that it wasn’t you.

“Who is she?”

“You know her,” he chuckled at your reaction before continuing, “but I don’t think she sees me like that much, although the guys say I’m just over thinking it, that she definitely likes me and -”

“She’d have to be crazy not to like you, baby bear,” your hand reached his over the table, it didn’t matter if your heart bled, all you ever want is to see Jongho happy, even if it’s not with you. “You are one of the most incredible human beings I’ve ever met, whoever has your heart will be forever loved and I envy that.”

At his raise of eyebrows, you quickly realized what you had said and tried to pull your hand away, but his fingers wrapped around yours, intertwining your fingers, your eyes quickly went to the girls you saw talking and eyeing Jongho earlier, finding their eyes on your hands before moving away, making a victorious smile play on your lips.

He was still yours for the time being and that was enough.

“What got you all smiley?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly trying to pull your hand away, but his grip was strong but careful around your hand, just like everything he did regarding you, “baby bear, it’s nothing, can I have my hand back?”

You giggled at the pout he gave you, the puppy eyes staring around you two before resting on you again trying to understand what had happened. Your hands quickly found your drink as so did his. While you couldn’t hold a smile while drinking, he couldn’t help his cute little pout at what you had done.

“Want me to be your wingman?” He questioned after a while, making you eye him confused as his eyes fell on your hand that was enveloped by the warmth of his hands not long prior, a small guilt filing your insides. “That’s why you dropped my hand, right? So, show me who he is, I’ll be nice, I promise.”

“It’s not that Jjong,” you said quickly as soon as he stopped, his eyes had a different shine, one that you had seen at the library a few weeks ago when Seonghwa appeared to ask Jongho to sing to Hongjoong’s song, for a second you thought you had made Jongho jealous, and you felt good for a second, until he wanted to leave and you panicked. The control he had over you was surreal and all you wanted was to take his hand on your and kiss it tenderly in front of everyone, “I dropped your hand because…”

“(y/n) it’s okay, I promise I -”

“I have someone in mind too,” you said it so quickly your mind couldn’t follow through, putting a hand in front of your mouth before focusing on your drink, “he also has no idea and, I’ve been into him for a while now, I tried to make him see it, but apparently he doesn’t see me as anything other than a friend and that’s okay, and since we are in a public place, if the girl you have eyes on sees us, it may ruin it for you so I-”

“Wanna go home?”

“You know I can’t go home.”

“Weren’t we going to mines?” His smile was soft; the shadow of a moment ago disappeared. Jongho was good at hiding, it didn’t take you long to realize that, so you nodded getting your coffee as his hands took your books putting on the bag with some other things you bought at the book section. “We can talk about it when we arrive, will that be okay?”

“We don’t have to Jjong.”

The truth was, you didn’t want to hear him talk about the girl that caught his attention, you wanted to be that girl. Once you finally stood up from the table, his right hand found your left making you gasp in surprise on how hot they were despite the ice americano he was having it. That was one of the things you liked the most about Jongho, how warm he always was, how his warmth would always find you and embrace you, always accompanied by the smell of his cologne. Which was one of the reasons you always loved when fall started, because he would lend you some sweatshirts and jumpers with his smell, even when you didn’t ask, he always had them.

As he guided both of you back to his apartment, you allowed yourself to feel the warmth of his hand and body next you whenever you could, cursing at every heavy wind that hit your face taking his cologne and warmth from you, making you involuntarily hide behind him, making him chuckle every time, until he stopped turning to face you. His perfect cupid’s bow just a few centimeters from you, as the wind hit again, he pulled you closer, your hands going around his waist under the coat he had opened, your face hiding against his chest, his cologne clouding your thoughts, but little did you know the effect that had on him.

Seonghwa and Yunho were right when they said you might say you were into someone depending on the situation, and if you did, this guy it would be him. The fact you couldn’t look him in the eye while saying those things, the reaction you had to the girls that flirted with him earlier noticing your intertwined fingers and leaving, how happy you were at that, how right your hand felt in his, the small hurt he saw in your eyes and face at the thought of Jongho liking someone and this person seeing them together. How could he have been so blind for so long? How could you not see how he acted around you?

“Here,” he said stepping a little away from you, both highly aware of how your hands still lingered on his waist, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move away, if he could, he would kiss you right then and there, “we can’t have you catching a cold and stopping to hide behind me everything a wind blows, so…,” his hands swiftly took the scarf off his neck placing around your own, covering your lips and nose, only your eyes visible to him as he took your hand back making you both get back into walking, “we almost home, so we won’t be cold for long.”

You wanted to stop him, to make him hug you again, to feel him close again, but all you did was follow his steps as you started to see the outline of his apartment in the distance. Although you knew none of his roommates were gonna be there, you caught yourself craving Wooyoung’s food. Maybe, just maybe, you could stay until they come back and ask him to make you something, that way you could also spend more time to Jongho.

You have been to his apartment multiple times, but something felt different, probably because you finally realized he might get a girlfriend, that you had lost him for good, because no one in their right mind would let him go, only if they were insane. Which was exactly what you were as you noticed he may never be yours because of how much of a coward you were.

As the sound of the lock along with the turning of the lights made you raise your head, you stopped dead on your tracks. There was a fort blanket in the living room, you could smell Wooyoung’s food – although you couldn’t see it – and you noticed as Jongho stopped behind you, his breathing on your ear as one of his hands found your hip and the other your arm squeezing both lightly, making you gasp.

“Surprise,” the chuckle made you wake up and eye him curious, only receiving a small smirk in response as he headed to the kitchen, your steps were cautious, there was no reason for this to be happening, nothing bad had happened. As your feet led you to the living room, you found fairy lights all over the place, the tv on playing an ambient music, “(y/n), come eat!”

Instantly, Wooyoung’s food filled your lungs and you drooled at the thought of what he had made and why he had made dinner. Were any of the boys in a romantic date before you arrived and didn’t have the time to pull it down? But then why would Jongho tell you it was a surprise? As you finally reached the kitchen, you found a banquet at the island, making you scream a little and jump, making Jongho chuckled before start preparing a plate for the both of you before heading back to the living room. The fort blanket already awaiting the both of you, a small memory from the time you two were children.

For a moment, both of you just enjoyed the meal Wooyoung had made, reminding you to thank him, which made Jongho said to also thank San and Yeosang for building the fort. You wanted to ask him then and there what that was all about, but something stopped you. Maybe it was the way he was enjoying the meal, the comforting silence between the two of you. How your knees touched on occasion but none of you had a care in the world if that kept happening, ignoring the electric shocks that ran through both your bodies.

Jongho changed the ambient sound to one of your comfort shows, the coffee table quickly pushed to the side with both plates on top along with two empty bottles of soju. You two were sitting with the backs on the couch, his left arm lazily hugging your shoulders, the tips of his fingers feather like along your arm, sometimes playing with your hair when you rested your head on his shoulder.

Trying not to think how warm he was, how close he was, how drunk on his cologne you were, how deep in love you were with your best friend. As you moved, Jongho swiftly took your legs putting on top of his, holding them in place as him right hand burned your skin despite the jeans you wore. Ignoring how he pulled you closer, only a little more and you were on his lap, his left arm still enveloping you, caressing your left arm and pulling you closer from time to time as your head on occasion would fall a little more. If you only had the courage, you could easily kiss the crook of his neck, his cologne filling your lungs, it wasn’t like you needed anything more to live if you had him.

When the second episode finished your head was already heavy, barely noticing as Jongho tried to untangle the two of you, a groan escaping your lips making him laugh before kissing your temple, being careful as he started to make some distance between you two. What he didn’t understand was that the groan was for nothing more than the idea of having him far away. His warm, cologne, the homey feeling you had with him whenever you two were together. You now realized what you were going to miss the moment he asks out the girl he has eyes on, you were going to lose him, even if he was never actually yours.

You watched as he took the plates on his hands. The third episode had started, but all you could do was stare at the spot Jongho was prior. All you could feel was how your skin burned and body ached to be closer to him again. His flirty demeanor had got to you. All the feelings you fought so greatly every day for the past years to keep low, he brought to the surface.

“(y/n)?” Your eyes turned to the spot Jongho had left, finding a chocolate bouquet before you could see him coming back to the fort. The smile on your lips made his gummy smile becoming more visible. “I was supposed to give this to you on the way out, but couldn’t wait,” his shy smile had returned as you took the chocolate bouquet in your arms, fingers trying to see all the chocolates that were there before eye him with startled eyes, “too much? Too much, right? Okay, sorry I -”

“Jjong, what is all of this?”

“What you mean?”

You sigh putting the bouquet down.

You wanted to say it wasn’t too much, not really, but with everything he was doing, it was. He was playing with your feelings, even if he didn’t know about them. The talk from earlier came back to you, maybe he was trying to make you feel better? Maybe, Mingi, Yunho or Hongjoong had said something to him about your crush on him without saying your name and now he wanted to cheer you up?

A small chuckle left your lips, because that’s definitely something Jongho would do.

That’s one of the reasons you love him so much.

Love.

You were in love with you best friend, all it took was for him to flirt with you openly for a day for you to admit that. You sigh as your eyes returned to the bouquet to focus on him again, a small pout on his lips. He thought you hated it everything he did, which made you hate yourself at that.

“You said surprise, but nothing happened for us to have a movie fort blanket night and the boys not being here…,” you noticed how his head focused on the way your hand enveloped his own, the warmth not only staying in your hand as his eyes found yours. “Jongho, what’s this? If this is yours and the guys’ way of saying it’s okay for the guy I like not to -”

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” His eyes were focused on you, making you suddenly feel self-conscious, trying to shy away but at the same time wanting his attention on you, wanting the way he was looking at you. “I don’t mean on the outside, of course you are beautiful on the outside, but I meant as a whole, you are beautiful, incredible, talented, intelligent, kind, and so much more that I could spend the rest of our lives telling you about it,” you gulped but didn’t move away as Jongho approached you slightly, testing the waters, “I’m sorry it took me too long to notice, I’m sorry for being a coward and take too long to say it, but -”

He cut himself looking to both your hands. You weren’t responsive; you were a statue watching him declare his love for you, he was questioning himself again, all the signs he had seen earlier vanished from his mind, the courage to finally tell you his feelings evaporated like water in a hot day, he started to sulk in his seat, mad at himself, as he felt your hand touch his cheek, an electric current going through his body full speed as he raised his eyes to meet your halfway.

“Jjong, please...”

You couldn’t finish, because you too were a coward.

You loved him, but did he love you too? Was that his way of confessing that he wanted you just as bad you wanted him? For just as long as you wanted him?

“I love you, (y/n),” he saw the moment your breathing stopped, how your hand fell from his face, your warmth going away with it, your eyes a mix of feelings that he couldn’t follow, “you are the one I like (y/n), you are the one I love.”

It was like your brain stopped functioning, your eyes watered and Jongho panicked for a second before holding his hand that was going to wipe your tear away.

“Please don’t joke about this, not about this, Jjong.”

“I could never joke about my feelings for you, (y/n), ever.”

The small smile was all he needed before leaning closer to you, slowly, watching your every reaction, expecting the denial he always thought he’d find if he confessed his love, but instead you met him halfway. A simple and tender touch of lips made both of your bodies combust. Eyes meeting for half a second before he pulls you closer to him again and you obliged to his wants, because kissing him was all you had on your mind since you were thirteen.

His hands were firmly on your hips pulling you to him as you were quick to put each leg on either side of his left leg, your hands messing up his hair, the kiss was hungry, urgent, just like his hands as he explored your back, ass and thighs. None of you cared about breathing, it was an inconvenient at best, you could live without air, but you couldn’t live without feeling each other’s lips anymore.

You whined as his lips disconnected from your mouth finding your jaw, teeth sinking into your skin as you pulled Jongho’s hair, the moan reverberating on your skin. Your whole body ignited at that sound, wanting to hear it more, you needed to hear it more. As you let your body weigh down, you felt his thigh under you, God how you imagined this scenario so many times before. Instinctively you started to move your hips slowly against his thigh, making him stop kissing your neck and look up at you.

One of his hands hugged your thigh, the other firm on your waist as your movements became more preeminent. As your head finally lowered finding his hungry eyes observing your features as you rocked your hips on his thigh, embarrassment quickly flooded you, making you stop and try to move away from him. Instead of letting you, his hand on your thigh found your back and pulled you closer to him.

You could feel the pool in between your legs, the arousal making you uncomfortable, begging you to continue, but something was holding you back, and you couldn’t stare at Jongho in the eyes. As his arm enveloped your waist, his left hand found your face, fingers lightly on your chin making you meet his eyes.

The hunger was still there, the lust, but they were tender, careful, the effect of feeling secured in his embrace along with the eyes of admiration and understanding made your whole body burn as he pulled you closer, locking your lips again. It was calm, almost experimental. Your arms were quick on his shoulders as your hands found the nap of his neck, one of them playing with his hair as the kissed deepened.

It was only when you felt his hands on your hips guide you across his thigh and the friction you felt making you moan in between the kiss, that you forced the break eyeing him curious. The smirk was present, but it wasn’t cocky, it was wholesome.

“Am I dreaming?”

He chuckled as he pulled you closer to him by your hips, moving them so gently on top of his thigh as he flexed them, thanks to the clothes the movement wasn’t very perceptive, also because you buckled your hips up as you felt his muscle against your clothed core, making him chuckle a little more.

“So, you’ve dreamed about me?”

“Jjong, please…,” his hands again moved your hips against his thigh making you bite your lip but not break eye contact this time. “I may have had a few dreams about you yes.”

“Did I made you feel good on them?” You nodded as his hands pulled your hips down, flexing his thigh as you were now in control of your own hips. “I’ve had them too, you know?” Your half-lidded eyes causing his pants to be an even bigger bothersome as a small moan left your mouth. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“Jjong?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and make me feel good, yeah?”

“Anything for you, my love.”

With that his mouth lashed back into yours as he guided your hips across his thighs. As you couldn’t help but keep your mouth open from the stimulation, his mouth found your neck, going all the way down to your chest, open mouth kisses being left on the open cleavage, eyes on you at every single movement he made.

You were so busy riding his thigh that you barely realized his hands were no longer on your hips as one of them went under your shirt, the tips of his fingers tingling against your burning skin as his other hand had a grip on your thigh. The build up on your lower stomach making it harder for you to concentrate as his hands grabbed those both parts of your body, you were sure your waist would have the imprint of his hands.

“Oh God, please-fuck,” your breathing was hollow, your legs ached but you couldn’t stop, it was too close to grasp, your fingers digging onto Jongho’s shoulder as you felt his lips on your neck again, his hand on your thigh pulling it more apart making your whole body weigh rest on his thigh as he flexed it once again, making a cried moan leave your lips, “fuck, Jjong, so good.”

“Let it go sweetheart, I’m here, this is just the first of the night,” you shot your eyes open finding the smirk present and he quickly gave you a peck on the lips, hands back on your hips as he kept making you move them, “use me for now, I wanna see you come undone on my thigh, please.”

It was the ‘please’ that made you lose it.

Your whole body trembled as you pulled Jongho’s face close to you as his hands gently moved your hips running you out of your high as your swollen lips let go of his own. He was glowing under you, his eyes were shining like a stary night and all you wanted was for this to never end, if it were a dream so you would never wake up.

As his hands came back into roaming your body, you came to your senses.

You had just cum by riding his thigh.

He saw the small panic look in your eyes and pulled you closer to him, kissing your lips as he lifted you up, his right leg quickly joining the left under you as you straddled him properly. Once again pulling you down on him, making you feel his bulge under you, making you both moan before making eye contact.

“This is real.”

“As real as it can be sweetheart,” he pulled you closer again kissing you tenderly as you rocked your hips against the outline of his cock, a moan escaping both your mouths as you allowed your weight down on his lap. “Are you sure you wanna keep going?”

“Do you?”

“I asked you first,” his small smile was back as you backed away from him, although you never stopped moving your hips, feeling him getting harder and harder under you, closing his eyes trying to control his breathing making you smile. “Sweetheart, I love you, but I can’t keep going unless you tell me you want me to.”

“I thought I said I wanted you to make me feel good, baby bear.”

You smile as your hands went to the back of his head playing with his hair pulling slightly making him groan, your smile widening at that as his hands gripped your ass squeezing it harshly making you moan.

“Guess I shall make your dreams come true then.”

“Please do.”

He smiled as in a swift move he turned you both and put you on the couch, your hips on the edge with him between your legs. Although you said it was okay, his eyes still lingered on your face as he unbuttoned your jeans sliding them away from your body before tossing them somewhere in the fort. Your thighs shut as his hands went to your knees, gently putting force to see if you were having second thoughts.

Why was he so thoughtful and careful?

You decided that after this, was your time to make him feel good, but right now you wanted his head between your thighs. At that you spread your legs, a mix of embarrassment and confident took hold of your body as you watched him take in your soaked panties. His eyes finding yours once again and you nodded, feeling the tingle in the base of your stomach coming back.

His fingers taking the last piece of fabric between you and his mouth, ever so gently, still watching every single one of your reactions. The truth was, neither of you could believe this was happening, it all felt like a dream, but it was real. It was real and Jongho would do his best for this to be the best night of your life.

As your panties finally met the ground, his eyes focused on your dripping cunt as you held the urge to close your legs, but he noticed the twitch, his focused was on you as he slowly and gently held your legs open, his lips kissing all the way to your left knee to your mid-thigh, before closing in on your hip, looking at you one last time, finding pure lust in your eyes, making him smile as his lips finally met your throbbing clit.

The gasp came in sync with the jolt of your hips, but Jongho was faster holding them down with a smirk that made you roll your eyes. He was having fun with all your reactions; you couldn’t pretend you weren’t enjoying it as well seeing the smudge grin on his face. Before you could say anything, his lips found your clit again, but this time, kitty licks were added to it, making you squirm a little as he held your hips down.

He licked a long stripe at your dripping cunt before starting to suck on your clit, making your back arch as you moaned loudly, your right hand quickly finding his hair pulling it harshly as you were still a little dazed from your previous orgasm. Your hips quickly moving trying to build more friction as Jongho lifted your left leg over the couch, holding you open with his right side as his left hand left your hips, one finger quickly prying at your entrance as he sucked in on your clit.

Once his face left your cunt, two fingers quickly entered you, as he curled them inside, a small kiss was left on your clit making you jolt and whine before forcing his face back into your throbbing bud of nerve as his fingers nimbly worked you up to your second orgasm of the night. You left hand finding your breast and squeezing it just enough to help you build the pressure.

“Fuck Jjong, keep going like this, fuck!”

“You like my fingers or my mouth better?”

As you didn’t answer he slowed down his movements making you groan.

“Both, fuck, please! I can’t choose, Jjong, please, I like both!”

“Good girl, so, cum on them, please sweetheart.”

Your hand pulled more of his hair making the groan reverberate through your body from your clit. God how he knew how to use his mouth and fingers! As you felt your second orgasm coming your legs started to shake and Jongho picked up the pace, his fingers curling inside of you are he went back to suck on your clit.

You cursed before a screamed moan leave your lips, legs trembling as your whole body felt heavy, limbs falling into the couch as he helped you out of your high. Closing your legs gently before getting up and to get you some water and a wet cloth. As he did that, your eyes found the tent in his pants, holding his wrist, his attention quickly falling back on you.

“Where you going?”

“Getting you some water and something to clean you up.”

“Are we already done?”

He smiled at your question. You were clearly fucked out, and yet you forced your legs out of the couch, eyes focused on him.

“Use your words sweetheart, what do you want?”

He squatted in front of you, his lips and nose glistering with your juice, and God you wanted to feel them again, and so you leaned in catching him by surprise at first before he cages you against the couch, your legs opening again as stood there in between them, kissing you like his life depended on it, while his hands held you like you were glass. A small peck was left on his lips as one of your hands held his face, the thumb lingering on his perfectly swollen cupid’s bow lips, a smile forming in yours.

“I don’t want this to end, please Jjong, please I need you, I need all of you.”

“Fuck-” he murmured under his breath as he looked down at your cunt, at the mess you had made on the couch, the mess he helped create. His eyes lingered on the tent in his pants, how his hard leaking cock was already painfully present and all he could think about was you and how you’d feel around his cock. “I’m not fucking you on the couch.”

“Then take me to your room,” you caged him with your legs on his waist and arms on his neck, his laugh brought a light smile to your lips, God you loved that man, you loved every little piece of him, and you wanted him so badly right now. “Stop being such a gentleman, I know you want this as much as I do.”

“One of us need to keep our minds clear.”

“C’mon baby bear, please!” You whined with a pout making him smile as his eyes focused on your face, his hands lazily on your thigh and waist, you knew you had him. “I’ll be good, promise.”

“I just still think I’m dreaming?, I guess?”

“You are not,” you laughed kissing him gently on the lips, feeling him wrapping his arm around your waist as grip your thigh tighter, “you know how I know this isn’t a dream?”

“How, oh my oh mighty?”

You hit his shoulder making you both laugh before play with his hair, pulling it out of his face, a small smile plastered on both your lips.

“Because this is so much better than any other dream I had of us.”

At the raising of his eyebrows, you giggled pulling him in for another kiss.

“So, we never actually had sex on any of your dreams?”

“That’s classified information, only to be revealed after the act.”

You laughed loudly as he rolled his eyes to the back of his head, but gasping at the sudden yank he gave to your body, making both arms and legs hold him tighter, one hand firmly on your thigh as his other arm, held you by the waist making you giggle as you both left the fort heading towards his room. Your lips finding his neck kissing every single space you could, feeling his fingers sink more into your skin.

As he let you on to the bed you finally let go of him, his hands quick to take off your shirt as yours worked swiftly to remove his own shirt and pants, and soon, the only piece of clothing either of you had was the boxers he was wearing. Precum staining the fabric already stretch out because of how hard Jongho was. Your eyes fixed on his boxers, he was thick, a little longer than usual, but thick.

You barely noticed his fingers finding your jaw until the moment he lifted your head to face him, a smirk plastered on his lips as he noticed your eyes lingering on his body. You had seen him without a shirt before, you know he is built, he just preferred to hide his muscles and you didn’t mind that one bit. If not showing his physic he already had a line of women and men after him, if they could see him like this, it would multiply by the hundred.

No, this was all for you.

He was yours.

He loved you.

Just like you loved him.

Your eyes fall to his boxers again with a questioning look, making him chuckle before taking those out. If you thought your mouth was watering, now it had truly become a waterfall. He was a little longer than average, but he was so thick. You reached your hand to touch him, but his hand quickly stopped you.

“C’mon Jjong, let me help.”

A simple nod and you started to work on him, the precum quickly being used as part of lubricant as your lips found the red leaking head, a small kiss left there, just like he had done with your clit on the couch not long ago. Your knees quickly finding the ground as you were quick to lick his shaft, the moans that left his mouth only igniting the fire inside you.

Your mouth and hand worked skillfully on him, his hand tangled to your hair helping guide the pace, every so often you’d look up only to meet him with his eyes closed and mouth open, small moans leaving his lips as you worked him up. A smirk always present as you noticed the reaction of your body to your hands and mouth on his cock.

“(y/n),” he was breathless and although you raised your head towards him, your hands didn’t stop moving, “fuck, your mouth is so perfect, you are perfect.”

You took him into your mouth once again. You knew he was close. He started to thrust into you, controlling more of your head movements, he wasn’t gonna last long. You felt him empty himself on your throat the same moment the most beautiful moan you ever hear came out of his lips, you took it all in, swallowing quickly as he pulled you in for another kiss.

Your legs were still trembling from earlier, but it didn’t matter as held your body close to him.

His taste on your mouth, your taste on his.

“Jjong, please.”

You whined against his lips as he nodded guiding you to the bed. The mattress sinking under you as you laid on your back, your legs open so he could fit in between them, his cock already getting hard again as he pumped himself up.

“You sure about this?” You nodded as he reached for the drawer, already knowing he was looking for a condom, the change in expression was all you needed to know. He didn’t have one. “Fuck, (y/n) I-”

“I trust you.”

You pulled his face to you, kissing him gently before locking your legs around him.

“Are you sure?” You just nodded before he kissed you again. “I’ll pull it out.”

In all honesty all you wanted was him inside of you, to feel him fully, nothing else mattered.

You felt his tip at your entrance, his eyes went to you once again, doubt filling them up.

“Jongho, I’m not a virgin, I’ve had sex before.”

Despite the words, your tone was serene. You knew him well enough to know he was scared to hurt you, the thing was, you knew he never would.

“But this is your first time with me, and I intend to make it the most pleasurable to you, I don’t care about anything else but that.”

His lips found yours once again. As his tongue slipped into your mouth you felt him stretching you out, a moan leaving your lips as he moved to kiss your neck. Slowly, every inch of you was touched by Jongho. You had never felt fuller in your life. As you opened your eyes, his were careful watching your reactions.

“You can move,” you bit your bottom lip as his hips started to move back and forth, you could feel every inch of him. Slowly he picked up the pace, thrusting into you, hitting your cervix every time he thrusted in too deeply, but you couldn’t care less, especially not when his fingers found your clit, circle movement making you moan in pleasure as his thrusts gotten sloppier. “Fuck, Jjong, ye-yes! Please, right fucking there, oh fuc-fuck-fuck!”

“You are so tight, so perfect for me, taking me so well sweetheart,” his lips found your again and both hands held your waist again holding you in place, “fuck I won’t last long.”

“Me neither, fuck!”

You bit down his shoulder, your nails digging into his back, the scratch marks were probably gonna be visible for quite some time. Jongho hid his face on your neck biting down as his thrusts got deeper, erratic, neither of you would last long. His thrusts quickly slowed down, but before you could complain, his hand was back into your clit, circle quick movements as his thrusts kept being sloppier. He wanted you to come first.

At that you held your breasts, pinching your nipples as you allowed yourself to feel everything he was giving you. As you clenched even more around him, both cussed and moan loudly. The third wave finally hit you as one of your hands squeezed your boob, while the other found his forearm that was moving your clit, hold it to a stop.

With a small nod he pulled out, hand already pumping himself as he watched you underneath him, like he had always wanted you to be, like he had always dreamed. White stripes of hot cum soon were splattered around your torso, one hitting high enough to reach your chin, making the two of you laugh as Jongho collapsed on your side.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

Before you could say anything, he got up heading to the bathroom. You could hear water running before steps could be heard. His hands worked quickly and carefully to clean you up, taking extra care with the overstimulated areas. You took your time to observe him.

You were definitely lucky to have him.

The giggle that escaped your lips making his eyes snap at you, a tint of red appearing on his ears as he put the towel away, ignoring your giggles as he went to grab you two a bottle of water returning to the room, finding you in the same position, a small smile plastered on your lips. All you did was point to the side of the bed with your head and he smiled pulling the covers, as he knew you two would soon feel cold.

His back to the mattress as your leg went over his. His arm stretched out as your head laid on his shoulder, the tips of his fingers caressing your bare skin light enough to tickle at points. Your arm going towards his neck, a small caress on his cheek before he faced you. A silent conversation. Realization of what had happened. The dream was real. You two liked each other. Loved each other.

“I love you, baby bear.”

“I love you, sweetheart,” he kissed your forehead pulling you in closer, making you giggle. “You are everything I could ever need or want, thank you for choosing me.”

“I’ll always choose you, Jjong.”

A small simple kiss, but full of meaning was the last exchange that happened between you two before you two fell asleep.

As the sun entered the room, you groaned stretching your sore muscles, realizing an arm was around your waist, you were naked and not in your room. Your head quickly snapped remembering what had happened the night before, finding a sleepy Jongho hugging you like his life depended on it. A small smile took form on your lips as everything came back to you, making you realize it really wasn’t a dream.

“I’d stop moving if I was you,” he’s hoarse morning voice made an electric current flow throughout your body and reach your core, you knew your body was sabotaging you, making you hyper aware of the growing hard on Jongho had up your ass, how his hand was so close to your breasts, “you know, morning wood is not fun…”

You laughed, receiving a groan from Jongho as he pulled you even closer to him, hiding his nose on the nape of your neck. The small tap on his arm around your waist was enough for him to loosen up his grip, but before he could complain you were facing him, hyper aware of his hard cock pressing your lower belly. His questioning eyes at your smirk was everything it took for him to shut up.

“Luckly, you have someone to help you with that…”

Your hand swiftly moved in between your bodies finding Jongho’s hard cock, playing with the tip, observing his face change expressions as you worked on his morning wood.

“You don’t have to-”

“I know, but I want to.”

Your body moved up and away just enough so his cock was at your entrance, your hand holding it still as your leg went above his hips, allowing you to grind on his cock, wetting it on your own dripping cunt. Both moaning lowly as his hand fell on your hip, your hand quickly putting the tip of his cock at your entrance.

“Fuck- have I told you, you are perfect already?”

“I could use the reassurance.”

You giggled as you felt him enter you, he almost stopped at your expression. You were still sore from last night and he was thicker than normal, but you held him in place, nodding as he kept pulling inch by inch inside of you, until you were full, staying like for a while, just until you felt adjusted to his size, feeling him twitch inside you from time to time, clenching around him whenever that happened making you both laugh at that.

“Jjong?” He hummed, eyes picking up on you as you called his name. “Can you please, move?”

“Will you be okay?”

“Mhm, promise, just move, please.”

As his length moved slowly in and out of you, the moans that escaped your mouths at every breath, yours considerably louder than his, as he also took the time to kiss along your neck as your hands messed up his hair even more.

This time it wasn’t rushed, not that last night had been, but this time it was different, more intimate. You could feel your orgasm arriving, you knew he was close as to how he grabbed your hips at every thrust.

You two were so into the moment, that you barely noticed how three voices entered the apartment, how they were quick to move things around, or how steps started to grow closer to the rooms.

“GOD FORSAKEN FU- SHUT THE FUCKING DOOR NEXT TIME!”

You both stopped at the exact moment Wooyoung’s screams reverberated through the walls of the apartment. Jongho quick to cover you up the best he could before eyeing the door, he could see shadows on the wall, he knew the guys were waiting for him to tell that it was okay to pass to their rooms.

Although he panicked, you couldn’t help but laugh, making him laugh as well before giving you a small kiss before slipping out of you, making you whine at the loss of not only his warmth temperature, but also the emptiness you felt inside. Jongho quickly picked up a random sweatpant and headed towards the door, looking at you for a second before smiling and shutting the door behind him, only to find all three of his roommates with shit eating grins on their faces, despite what had just happened.

Before any of them could say anything, Jongho lifted his finger with a death stare, more specifically directed to Wooyoung who had the cockiest smile the youngest had ever seen. With an annoyed sigh Jongho pointed to his room with his head before opening his mouth, words most directly to Wooyoung than any of the other two.

“Shut it! I don’t wanna hear it!” Wooyoung was the first to try to say something after Jongho’s words, but San quickly eyed him as Yeosang pushed him further on the hallway putting a hand in front of wooyoung’s mouth, leaving both Choi’s behind. The youngest however looked at San with a soft smile as both eyed the door to Jongho’s room before speaking again. “You were right, I was an idiot, okay? Just give us a few minutes.”

“You know Wooyoung won’t let you live it out of it, right?”

Both laughed at San’s words knowing it to be true.

“He can say whatever he wants man, I honestly only care about her, if she doesn’t mind his antics, I couldn’t care less.”

“I’m happy for you, Jjong.”

San said with a small smile, a hand rested on Jongho’s shoulder as he passed the youngest heading to his own bedroom. With a sigh, he opened the door to his room finding you looking at the door with a small smile before tapping on the bed, making him laugh and take a few steps before you stop him pointing to his sweats before you speak again.

“No clothes allowed in, c’mon, take those off.”

“You are a menace, you know that?” His sweats were soon on the floor as he joined you in bed, holding you close in his arms. “I think they can control Wooyoung for like thirty minutes.”

“So, we better make the best of those thirty minutes.”

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