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sh1-n0bu · 17 days

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✿ 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙩 ✿

characters: self aware!acheron x isekai!gn!reader, slight dan heng x reader to the end

warnings: fluff, poor attempt at humor, consumption of alcohol, lying (from dan heng), brief appearance of playable characters, description of acheron test run, reader is isekaid into the hsr world and is just trying to live their life, reader is referred to as aeon of life and your excellency

notes: just had a shower thought and remembered acheron interaction from the cosmodessy event and BOOM! part 2 of dragon fic is on the work i swEAR PLS DONT EAT ME the divider is from @/rookthornesartistry

“hmm…”

what a tricky situation. acheron had been wandering through the dreams of penacony to find out about the truth of the oak family. or at least, finding some hint and cases that has been silenced by the family. but on the way…

“i seem to be lost”

yes, the amnesiac galaxy ranger had found herself lost once more. she had briefly agreed with the astral express to meet them later at the clockie statue of golden hour, but the poor woman was now wondering which way is which and which direction she should be heading towards. oh well, she’ll figure it out later. right now, she needed to know where she was or attempt to find a familiar face.

looking around herself, acheron could hear the faint sound of jazz playing further down one of the halls. there also seem to be other people there as she could make out laughter and murmuring of people alongside the scent of alcohol wafting through the air.

a bar, perhaps?

quietly, she makes her way to the end of the hall, opening the double doors and coming to what she guessed was a bar. it did indeed seem like it, though just maybe a bit smaller than the usual grand and bright neon sign filled ones at the golden hour. briefly, the woman takes a moment to look around, hoping to find a familiar face. there was a bartender behind the bar, a halovian mixing a drink. perhaps she could ask her—?

a familiar colored hair catches acheron’s attention just as she was about to make her way over to the bartender. there, far away from the crowd of people at one of the seats sat the aeon of life. their back turned to others, seemingly running away from attention as they hunch over their table. acheron had never personally met the aeon of life before but she had felt their warmth, heard some snippets about them through the trailblazer and during an odd battle she was forced to fight in and have seen glimpses of their visage through the screen that the trailblazer allowed her to.

when acheron was first teleported to some theme park of penacony, she wondered if someone had kidnapped her. but when the ranger tried to move herself, she had found it impossible. until she did. someone or something was controlling her body, making her draw her blade and fight, yet she found it hard to hate the puppeteer. it felt… warm. to the lone galaxy ranger, this odd puppeteer of hers gave her a warm feeling, like being gently cradled by the sun. gentle and kind as the puppeteer moves her around, muffled gasps of awe and words of admiration falling onto her ears. this puppeteer of hers’ voice sounded gentle, soothing her heart, filling the loneliness of her soul. as quickly as it came, it disappeared and she was back in her room at the reality of the hotel.

when she briefly mentioned of this incident when she met welt of the astral express, he simply smiled with a knowing expression. the older man had told her about the aeon of life — or at least their reborn mortal self — and how they would sometimes guide some people to help them solve their problem or to bless them with more strength. most of the times though, these people were pathstriders, he told her.

and now here she was, in the flesh, being able to see the aeon of life themself.

quietly, the ranger makes her way towards the hunched over aeon. they seem to have had some glasses of drinks, the ice in them melting inside the glass as they lay their head on their arms, one hand wrapped around the glass of their next drink.

meanwhile, you try to fight back some sleep. drowsiness falling over you due to all sorts of drinks you’ve consumed. though, most were alcohol free, they still managed to knock you down a peg. must be the secret of being penacony dreamscape drinks or something. or maybe it was just siobhan’s specialty. she seemed very skilled in the art of free mixing.

the faint sound of heels clacking catches your attention though, making you stop and take a moment to listen carefully. not so soon after, the sound stops right behind you, along with a faint presence behind your back. you try to play asleep, hoping the person would just buy the act and leave you alone. ever since you were isekaid into the star rail world, people have been clamoring for your attention left and right. you came to penacony with the express in hopes of blending within the bright lights and dazzling signs of the dream world for people to ignore you and give you some time to breathe.

though, the presence continues to stay. lingering just behind you.

gulping, remembering an iconic meme back from your world, you slowly get up from your laying position and turn your head around to see who it was.

“YAAGHH—!” you yelp out loud, nearly shrieking as you jump from your seat when you saw acheron just silently staring at you, a bit closer than what you would prefer. the woman blinks, eyeing you carefully as she takes in your appearance. meanwhile, you hold a hand over your heart to calm the rapid beating of it.

breathing in and out, you eventually manage to calm yourself down. keeping an awkward eye contact with the ranger, you reach out to your unfinished glass of drink, taking a long sip from it. all the while, acheron continues to hold this somewhat awkward stare down.

“a-acheron, what are you doing here? you scared the shit out of me” you say, now finally calm after that last gulp of your drink. the woman’s exposed purple eye widens slightly, as if she was surprised by the fact you knew her. ah right, you two haven’t officially met each other in the flesh. so of course it will come off as weird to the galaxy ranger.

“i appear to be lost, your excellency” she replies, noting the unusual hue of your eye. it had a ring of gold in it, making you look otherworldly. but in this life where people can easily travel from one world to the other, that wasn’t exactly a compliment enough to say that you looked beautiful.

right, you remembered now that acheron had a tendency to forget things very easily and she would continue to be amnesiac until she draws her blade.

“well… where do you need to go then?”

the two of you have made your way out of siobhan’s bar, out of the dreamscape reverie hotel and towards the golden hour as she had said. but first you made little detours in your walk, stopping a few memory zone memes that has become unstable — during the whole time, acheron had told you to stay behind her so you would be safe — taking your time to admire the scenery of the dreamscapes before you two finally made it to the golden hour. it was buzzing, bustling with people from all over the galaxy and street vendors raising their voices to catch someone’s attention.

seeing a floating ice cream at the other end of the street, acheron steps onto the road without looking.

“ache, watch out!” you quickly reach out, holding her hand and yanking her back to yourself as a speeding car nearly runs her over. warm. you felt warm to the touch, gentle in the way you handled her as if she was made of glass. tender, almost, like a lover would hug another to their heart. she liked the way you hugged her, even though it was one born out of protective instinct.

“are you okay?” you ask, squeezing her bicep gently to take her attention. acheron turns her head to look at you, nodding her head that she was fine. everyone would be fine if they were in your protection after all. warm, safely tucked into your loving embrace.

“ache” she spoke suddenly, taking your attention back to herself. “you called me ache, your excellency. do you like the nickname?” the ranger asks, having never received any nicknames from others. this was her first time, having lost everyone she was close to and being forced to walk a lonely road until she caught the gaze of nothingness itself. even if she did indeed had gained nicknames from others before, she had long forgotten them. so this newfound form of kinship in you, in being given something intimate to be referred to by someone, brought a feeling of joy to the lonely ranger.

“i mean… do you like it?” you ask, looking at her face if she would give away any indication that she disliked it. to which you saw nothing. only the faint smile growing on her face. you liked that look on her face. the brooding, sad, melancholic look that she usually wears never fitted her. but when she did that, had a small smile on her face with a face of contentment, it seemed to suit her much better.

“mhm” acheron simply nods, an odd feeling of childish glee in her heart at the thought of having earned an intimate nickname. not from just anyone, but from you — the aeon of life, the very first living being that came to existence and decided to bless other lifeless things into meaningful ones. the aeon of life whose love and care held no bounds, reaching all over galaxies and world — even to ones that were distant and lone — embracing them in your love and care.

acheron liked the nickname “ache”. a heron liked to enjoy her time beside you. with you.

holding hands, eating floating ice creams and magical popcorns, the two of your take your sweet time during your detour to the clockie statue in golden hour. some people stopped you to ask for your autograph or a selfie together. it had become a common thing for you to experience ever since you got isekaid into this world.

the way you stopped to laugh at acheron’s face, where she had undoubtedly made a mess when eating her newly favorite peach flavored ice cream, the way you took out a napkin, wiping away the mess from her lips in such a tender manner caught the attention of a certain bloodhound. gallagher watched, jealous and other unknown bitter feelings swirling inside him as he watches your “date” with acheron from a bit away. he didn’t understand why he was so jealous. he was already in your grace, having come home to you many times while the ranger hadn’t came home to you even once.

but coming home, being in your grace and going on dates with you and holding hands were two completely different things. maybe he should invite you to come over at siobhan’s bar more.

finally, the pair of you made it to the clockie statue. when nearing to your destination, you felt the metal clawed hand of acheron tightening around yours. she seemed sad over the fact she had to let you go. it was nice to be beside you. holding hands, making jokes, feeling of belonging and comfort easily sweeping over her in waves that she never felt before. and yet she had to let go now. the express members were looking at you two weirdly.

“it’s alright, ache. we’ll go on more walks together later, okay? you have my phone number after all. you can text me if you want” your soothing voice graces her ears, filling the empty void of her heart. the woman remembers now. you gave her your number on the way here.

nodding, very reluctantly, acheron’s hands lets go of yours. immediately she wanted to reach out to hold your hand again, to feel the warmth of the sun from your skin again. but she holds herself back, afraid that she might scare you off with how forward she may come off as.

“see you later!”

“aaah… hopefully, today won’t be filled with creepy stalkers or annoying fans running after me…” you groan out, slumped over on one of the seats at the theme park. there wasn’t much people around, even if there were, the people here were too immersed in the exhilarating experience of the theme park. this place really was the world of dreams, huh…

“good afternoon, everyone. this is the ipc broadcast, coming back with news from all over the galaxy” one of the radios that was placed around the theme park speaks up, the familiar voices of the two npc’s coming through to catch some gossip loving folks’ attention.

“yesterday, at the world of dreams penacony, many people have reported to seeing their excellency, the aeon of life, going on a date with a certain mysterious purple haired woman” oh fuck no. no more gossip regarding the most basic things you do. please, no more scandals.

“some reports have stated that their excellency was sighted holding hands and going around one of the most famous dreamscapes of penacony — the golden hour — in a seemingly intimate date with the woman” it wasn’t a date! besides, people were too damn invested into your life.

groaning and silently spewing curses under your breath, you tune out the rest of the news broadcast, instead focusing on the taste of soulglad in your hand. at least there weren’t anyone around to bother you today. or anyone to spook you by just silently standing behind you. breathing down your neck, quietly standing there as if waiting for you to slowly turn around with “it’s behind me, isn’t it?”.

wait that’s too specific.

“your excellen—“

“whAT THE FUCK?!” safe to say, you jumped out of your seat when the familiar soothing voice of dan heng reached your ears. some people around turned to give you a weird or concerned stare.

“dan heng?! the hell are you doing here? aren’t you supposed to be back at the express?” you choke out, thankfully having not thrown your glass of soulglad in your fright. in return, the quiet dragon only tilts his head slightly, a sheepish look on his face. he lowkey reminded you of a puppy either that face…

“i cane here to check on the other express members. they weren’t replying to me in the group chat. and now—“

“— and now you’re lost” you finish for him, waiting, keeping an eye contact to see if he would deny or agree. to which he simply nodded his head as slight pink hue spread over his cheeks.

“alright where do you need to go?”

“the golden hour, clockie statue”

“alright, alright. jeez, what’s up with you guys always meeting up at the statue?”

“uhm… your excellency?”

“yeah?”

“can we… hold hands?”

tomorrow, another hit news was broadcasted by the ipc broadcast, speaking of how the aeon of life was spotted going on another date with a young, handsome man from the astral express.

#nobu.writes #self aware hsr #self aware honkai star rail #sahsrau #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr x reader #hsr x y/n #hsr x you #dan heng x y/n #dan heng x you #dan heng x reader #acheron x reader #acheron x you #gender neutral reader #gender neutral insert

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kookslastbutton · 2 months

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Those Eyes Chico ༓ myg (m) | chapter one

✑ Summary: As the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour, you’re expected to bring your expertise to the table. This shouldn’t be a problem—you’re the best in the business and you’re used to drawing a strict line between your professional and personal life. But what happens when the lines you’ve fought to keep as separate blur for the first time?

pairing: idol!yoongi x plus size!poc!reader

genre/AU: angst, fluff, smut, slowburn, coworkers2friends2lovers, winter setting, forbidden love,

word count: 6.5k+

warnings: oc is 28, Yoon is 30, oc is not originally from South Korea, oc has light brown eyes, swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of anxiety, panic attacks, body insecurities, fear of being blacklisted, emotionally restrained yoon, unstable parental relationships, conservative parents, rude Hybe executive that should be fired, bestie!tae is wonderful support 🥹, and cute yoon and oc interactions bc yeah....its thier first time actually meeting so it must be cute!

now playing: Sweet Dreams by The Last Shadow Puppets

a/n: YAHHH chapter one!! Ok i apologize if the meeting is so long and drawn out...I really tried to make it fun but so much info is needed too haha. Anyway this series is dedicated to my wonderfully crazy friend and sorta beta, Gloom @theuselessdaydreamingidiot, and to all our fellow Yoon lovers bc we miss our sweet man SO MUCH 🥺 Enjoy! 🥰 Also huge thank you to @itaeewon for designing this beautiful series header! Love it!!

Series Masterlist | next chapter >>

Winter in Seoul feels like stepping onto the set of your most beloved holiday film.

As the brisk air wraps around you, delicate snowflakes gather atop your head, urging you to cocoon in your finest wool trench coat. Yet, despite the chill, the sight of frost-bitten trees basking in the morning's golden rays offers a source of warmth and delight. Perhaps the most radiant tree of them all is the towering Christmas tree that sits proudly in the heart of the city. Adorned with shimmering red and gold baubles, the giant evergreen catches the eye of every person that walks by–both tourists and locals alike.

Nearby shopping malls buzz with holiday fervor too as shoppers scour for treasures, couples engage in friendly competition to find the ultimate gift, and children line up to take their picture with Santa. But the best part is when night falls. The whole city comes alive with joy and laughter as loved ones meet one another on the ice-skating rinks, while karaoke bars echo tipsy renditions of timeless songs sung by overworked professionals, each with a bottle of soju in hand.

Yes, Seoul is a place for making memories and you’re in the thick of it.

Having been in the city for three years, one might assume you’ve become well accustomed to the energy of the season. You've really grown to love it here. But adjusting to the new environment is still proving to be a challenge, the most outstanding being the prevailing beauty standards.

Massive billboards featuring stunning models serve as constant reminders of the type of beauty one should aim to achieve as you commute to work. Impossible to miss are the shining examples themselves – iconic k-pop groups Seventeen, Red Velvet, EXO, BlackPink, Mamamoo, TXT, and of course BTS plastered on the side of every flat surface imaginable. You’re not exactly complaining about that aspect as you’ve helped design a good handful of them as a top marketing and advertising professional. But the strict image of what constitutes a beautiful and worthy individual weighs on you more than you’d like.

While a conventional body type isn’t what you’ve been given in this life, you don’t consider yourself to be completely unattractive either. Having high cheekbones, a strong jawline, striking light brown eyes, good enough ass, and a full chest shouldn’t classify as undesirable. Still, you wish you’d adopt this more body positive mindset rather than your current overthinking one. It’s easier said than done, being that you not only see idols everyday on the streets in digital form but at work as well.

You continue further into city until a set of tall, glass doors meet you mere steps away. You tilt your head back to catch the name of the skyscraper before nearing the building’s sturdy, silver handle.

BigHit Music.

Feeling its cool metal under your fingertips, the door swings open with an easier pull than imagined to welcome you into the bustling lobby. You feel a rush of confidence return to you upon entering– this is your domain, this is where you truly shine.

“Did you get the files I sent to you?”

The woman nods her head in affirmation while sweeping a few pieces of her long, silky hair behind an ear. To strangers, she appears to look about 24 which is only four years younger than yourself but nonetheless she’s the same age as you. Hei-Ran is her name, meaning “graceful orchid” according to Korean translation.

Hei-ran is one of Hybe’s newest hires and based on her experience, a near perfect fit to being South Korean boy group Tomorrow X Together’s new marketing manager. Until about three months ago, this had been your job.

You never imagined giving up the position after three years of working in the role. But with December right around the corner Hybe had other plans for you.

"Graduated summa cum laude with a bachelors degree in BTech in Electrical and Electronics Engineering and a MBA in Marketing from NYU Stern. You worked two years as a brand manager for U.S record label Atlantic Records immediately after graduating, and are now working at BigHit Music as a marketing manager for TXT including liaison with their global marketing team.”

You recall Bang PD's voice vibrate in the back of your mind from mid-August. You thought you were called into his office to discuss details of TXT’s latest promo, so having your resume read back to you was a sweeping curve ball. Your determination must have far exceeded the heaviness you felt in your chest because before you knew it you, you were shaking hands with your boss in acceptance of your role – the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour.

The tedious knot that’s formed in the nape of your neck reminds you that as surreal as the situation might be, it’s undeniably real.

Months spent drafting a comprehensive marketing proposal for D-Day; often until the wee hours of the night, inevitably takes its toll on even the mightiest of warriors. An entire new team of fifty people, all of who you’ll be in charge of orchestrating for the next eight months, doesn’t provide much to relief either.

You’re excited nevertheless. Working with one of the most respected artists in the music industry is an opportunity you couldn’t let slip by, especially since the album’s rock-inspired genre aligns closely with your own music taste.

“Thank you so much for helping me get settled __,” Hei-ran’s gentle voice returns you to the present. “I appreciate the time you’ve taken these last few months to train me despite the tight deadlines you have.”

Smiling, you shake your head. “It’s no problem at all and if there’s anything you need in the future, feel free to give me a call or stop by my office.”

“On the 16th floor right?”

“1656A. Take a left off the elevator and walk to the end of the first hallway. The door on the right is mine.”

Referring to any room on the 16th floor as your own is something you don’t take lightly. For one the offices are double the size of any other office spaces in the building. Yours in particular has a giant skyscraper window draped with heavy white curtains. Secondly, the floor above is the 17th floor which is exclusive to Hybe artists only.

"How's the proposal coming along, by the way?" Her curiosity is palpable, genuine in its nature. You’ve always appreciated that in an individual.

“It’s done,” you respond. “Only thing left to do is to prepare for our meeting with C-suite executives next Monday. It’s nearly perfect as is, but the presentation could use a bit of refining in terms of organization.”

Hei-ran is silent for a moment longer than usual before her next inquiry, which is undoubtedly the question on both of your minds. “I can't help but wonder what it'll be like to meet him for the first time,” she muses.

You don’t bother asking for clarification on who the “him” is; you’re already well aware that it’s Min Yoongi. The same subject has managed to intrude your own thoughts more and more as the date of meeting him draws closer. It's peculiar honestly, considering you’ve encountered him before.

Granted, it was only a small handful of times the hallway, both heading in opposite directions. Min Yoongi typically greeted you with a hoarse 'Good Morning' those instances, along with a curt nod of his head. You would nod back with a brief 'Morning' yourself. Deep down you feel he'd make a quality friend, though it's only a premonition. It’s not like you actually know much about him beyond those small exchanges.

"I'm not sure what to expect, honestly," you admit. "I imagine it'll be similar to previous professional collaborations—composed, focused, and intense. D-Day is poised to become a global sensation for the next year, so it's going to need our full, undivided attention."

Hei-ran gives a knowing nod. “Good luck __,” she wishes you well as you head towards the elevator doors. Breaks over, back to work.

After another late-night prep session for Monday’s D-Day proposal, you trudge through your apartment door well past 8:30 pm with an empty stomach and a throbbing headache. Good news is that your graphic design team seems to be well on track with their album mockups ready to present.

The same can’t be said for your U.S. promo team however, who required additional guidance on their projects. The social media team was in a similar boat. Somehow several of their members lost track of time and were convinced the proposal was still two weeks away.

Despite the hiccups, you managed to tie up the loose ends, but it meant that none of you got to leave early.

When you finally get to curl up in your fluffy sofa, a loud, exasperated sigh leaves your lips. Your lids flutter shut too as you rest your head against the soft cushion. Silently, you make one last mental rundown of all the tasks you checked off today.

Did you miss anything?

D-Day is the most crucial project you’ve ever taken charge of—you need it to be flawless.

When nothing pressing comes to mind, you grab the tv remote from your dark oak coffee table and aimlessly flip through the channels. You’ll unwind for an hour and then call it a night.

Ten minutes into an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine and the light chime of your phone's notification bell catches your ear.

Tae 💚: Haven’t heard from you all day. Everything alright?

Taehyung, your best friend. You smile fondly at his message as your thumbs hover over the reply button. He's always checking in on you. You and Taehyung have been friends ever since you first moved to Seoul and started working at Hybe. You didn't expect your friendship to become this strong, but both of you are sociable individuals, which led to discovering several unexpected commonalities. One of those is a shared love for jazz, which has been one of your all-time favorite genres for as long as you can remember.

You: yeah, I’m good. Just tired. Been working on D-Day's proposal for months and finally got it fully prepped for.

Tae 💚: Well, that's amazing news! You feel good about it?

You: I don't know. I’m definitely ready for this project but I’m also starting to feel a little burned out. The proposal is only the beginning you know, and it's already taking the wind out of me.

Tae 💚: Sorry to hear that 😞 I'm sure it must be draining, but I also know this is your territory. No one is more fit to head this project than you. Everyone thinks so. How about you take the weekend to rest?

You: Yeah...I'm watching B99 rn

Tae 💚: B99?! Without me?

You can't help but giggle. Somehow over the course of three years you've roped your best friend into becoming obsessed with your mindless sitcoms. You've done more than a handful of binge watching together, until all hours of the night.

You: Wanna come over for an hour?

The company might be nice.

Tae 💚: Be there in 20 🏃

Your door bells rings exactly twenty minutes after you and Taehyng finish exchanging texts. He's so prompt it scares you sometimes.

“Hey.” His deep, baritone voice greets you first, along with a friendly hug. Taehyung slips his snow covered boots off upon entering your apartment and hangs his wool jacket on your coat rack. His limited edition Gucci scarf is next. Taehyung loves the winter as it’s the time he can wear his most luxurious clothes.

“What’s this?” You peak inside a brown paper bag that Taehyung has conveniently set on your kitchen countertop. He flashes you a playful grin and gestures you to open it. Naturally, you're suspicious but it all washes away when a new, unopened bottle of whiskey presents itself. “Oh my god, you didn’t!" You swat his arm in a rush of excitement.

“I had to!" Taehyung opens a kitchen cupboard and grabs a glass from the top shelf. He's been in your apartment enough times that he’s grown comfortable with your place. That and he's also your best friend.

"With all the recent events you've had going on, I think it calls for a celebration." Taehyung expertly pours you a glass of the smooth, rich liquor and offers it to you.

“Thank you, Tae," you say, taking the glass from his hand. "Come sit down. Jake's about to sing I Want It That Way with the police lineup.” Taehyung pours himself a glass of Pinot Noir and follows your lead.

After about forty minutes of sitcoms and booze with your best friend you begin to feel yourself relaxing. Whatever challenges lies ahead, you know you'll be able to handle them one whiskey at a time.

All stream of thought is interrupted when your phone dings off again. It's now half past 9, who on earth is trying to reach you?

Fuck.

You tighten the grip on your phone as soon aa the message appears. Taehyung, previously occupied by the end credit scene, catches the sudden shift in your demeanor and calls your name but he's inaudible to you.

Mom: It’s been almost two weeks since we last heard from you. We know you're busy but your father and I want to know if you’ll be coming home. The holidays are coming up right? Why don't you use some of that time to come see us? There's someone we want you to meet.

"__, who is it?" Taehyung's voice manages to break your intense concentration.

“Just my mom.” You answer briefly, still averting eye contact.

“What’d she say?”

“She wants me to come home for the holidays.” You shut your phone off in an effort to calm yourself.

Unlike Taehyung your relationship with your parents has always been rocky. Expectations are set high from birth and you never see eye to eye. Likely, the only accomplishment that's earned genuine praise from them was when you accepted your initial job proposal with Hybe. A respectable career is only second to health to them after all. Your father was more torn with the news that you’d be moving hundreds of miles away than your mom however, not that you’re surprised.

Of course while having a healthy and respectable career is priority for your parents, there is no mistake that their greatest wish is to see their daughter married. A stable man with ample resources to provide her a secure home and healthy children is preferable.

You love your parents and you'll always be there for them, but you must admit that their traditional outlook is one you can never live up to. They tried setting you up dozens of times before, and tonight's request to have you come home "for the holidays to meet someone” is simply another attempt to marry you off.

Yes, you would like some sort of companionship in your life and you hope if you find it that they’ll approve. But giving your hand in marriage to the first notable suitor isn't your forte. You consider yourself to be an independent woman with a tender heart, and you'd rather be single for the entirety of your life than be forced into another obligation.

Preserving your independence is highly important to you. So no, you draw the line when it comes to relational affairs.

If only you could be firm and repeat all the above to them aloud, rather than within your own head— if only.

“So are you gonna go?"

You don't respond immediately, still weighing out your options. "Not sure," you murmur. "I don't really want to but maybe I should. I haven't gone home to see my parents since last year."

Taehyung recognizes the growing tension in your voice as well as the flushed expression playing on your face. He wishes he could take it all away but instead he moves closer to your side of the sofa and lets you rest your head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry." He's silent for a moment before continuing. "Why don't you tell them you can't go because of work? There must be a number of things you'll need to get ahead of for Yoongi's album."

"True. But it's too easy, they won't buy that. I have to go."

"What if you say I invited you to celebrate with my family this year? We're going to a nice, cozy cabin a few hours north of here for Christmas."

The offer is temping and you know he means it but it's also not enough.

"No," you reject. "They'll think we're dating and ask to meet you."

"I'll do it!" Taehyung's voice lifts into a more playful tone, earning a soft chuckle from you.

"Very cute Taetae, but no. Neither of us are going to say 'that was a good idea' in the end, trust me. I'll have to make this decision on my own."

Taehyung grimaces slightly at your last choice of words. "I really think you should consider telling them you can't due to a full schedule. We don't get that much time off at the company any way. Don't your parents live at least 7-10 hours away? Come on, spend the holidays with me and the guys. Plus, it'll be my birthday soon. I want you there at my party."

When you look at your best friend to gently scold him for not so sneakily using the guilt tripping technique, he's pouting. Like a baby. Not even you can resist him with that face on.

"Fine. I'll think about it."

"Good," Taehyung chirps and snatches the tv remote to flip through episodes of Brooklyn Nine-Nine. "I want you to be around those closest to you, especially around the holidays. You're my badass best friend who deserves more than some stupid forced marriage to a guy with an unhealthy alpha male complex. Should we top the night off with one more episode by the way?"

You nod and Taehyung hits play on the remote. "Thank you," you coo, feeling a tad better.

The weekend is a blur at best and you’re back at the office before you realize. Of course this is no ordinary work day however, given that today signifies the day you officially start work as D-Day’s marketing director. You’ve been perfecting every detail of the proposal like a madman since the beginning, meticulously obessing over every element. Your new team members must have a pretty eye-opening understanding of what it’ll be like having you as a lead for the next year–you pity them to be honest.

Between your fingers clutches a small tube of lip balm, berry flavored with a faint tint to match. You love chapstick for some odd, inexplainable reason and you felt the need to apply a generous amount of it on your lips for good luck.

“No one’s here yet,” Yi-joon, one of the members of your graphic design team, speaks first upon stepping foot into your assigned conference room. Others hum, unsurprised. Being the ones leading the presentation, you’d be startled if anyone actually arrived beforehand.

A grand mahogany table, seating up to 14 individuals, boasts itself to you in the middle of the room with every chair lined in genuine black leather. Traditional seating arrangements have one chair at the head of the table, but today’s meeting has two, both positioned to face the wide presentation screen at the opposite end.

Undoubtably, they’re reserved for Bang PD and Min Yoongi.

A momentary shiver courses down your spine, yet fades quick when one of your team members asks if anyone's seen the remote to the projector. There’s no time for nerves to be acting up, you remind yourself calmly. Only 15 minutes remain until every C-suite executive in Hybe congregates into the room.

With a composed demeanor, you swiftly gather your thoughts and respond, "Try checking inside the podium. It's likely close by, but if not, we can always power it on manually." You then start delegating tasks to the rest of your team, mentally rehearsing key points of the proposal between each instruction.

Time appears to have vanished in the blink of an eye because in a matter of seconds a gentle breeze slips through the conference door, accompanied by the arrival of several Hybe executives. You offer a polite "good morning," which is briefly reciprocated as they take their respective seats around the conference table.

You count twelve at the table in total, including your own team.

"Sajangnim should be here in about–"

Hybe's Chief Finance Officer doesn't get to finish his sentence when an older gentleman in a freshly pressed suit walks through the door, fully immersed in conversation. The person following close behind him is none other than the man of the hour himself–Min Yoongi, fitted in a clean white dress shirt that's unbuttoned at the collar and sleeves rolled to the elbows. His soft, raven hair falls gently in front of his eyes, framing his face a little too well.

Unexpectedly, both your gazes shift from Bang PD and onto one another. His dark, intense eyes pierce through you as they observe you from the opposite side of the room. You're certain he recognizes you from your previous shared encounters, though you don't have the slightest clue what he's thinking. Min Yoongi has been known to be many things, but an open book isn't one of them.

He then walks in your direction until he's directly toe to toe with you for the very first time. Completely against your wishes, you feel all the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand straight. You've never officially met before.

"It's nice to finally meet you __-nim. Those nods we give each other in the hallway hardly count as a proper introduction." He extends a hand to you, offering you a sturdy handshake which you accept.

"Absolutely, it's a pleasure to meet you as well Min PD-nim," you say, smiling warmly. "I'm looking forward to working with you on your new album. I truly appreciate the opportunity."

For a split second, Yoongi allows his professional demeanor drop. "I should be the one thanking you. You'll be the one leading this whole operation right? So I'll be in your care."

You want to respond with gratitude, but you're not given the chance due to an authoritative voice speaking up from behind.

"Min PD-nim," Hybe's Vice President calls out to the man in front of you, requesting his attention.

Yoongi is hesitant to leave you mid-conversation but you assure him that it's alright. "Please, feel free to take a seat," you offer. "The presentations will begin soon."

A small, subtle smile graces Yoongi's lips before he turns around to take his seat beside Bang PD at the head of the table. He engages in small talk with Hybe's Vice President who's conveniently seated across from him. Yet despite their conversation, he's only half focused; his eyes repeatedly wandering back to you. At this point, however, you've already stopped looking at him.

"Good morning, all," you address the room when the time comes to commence the meeting. "We'll be getting started now that everyone's here. I'm sending down samples of the album design our graphics team has created for D-Day. Please pass them along." You hand the stack of copies to Hybe's Chief Technology Officer who smiles courteously.

"On behalf of my team and me, I want to thank you for joining us today to discuss our marketing strategy for Min PD-nim's upcoming D-Day album. Our agenda will be as follows," you guide everyone's attention to the presentation board, which provides a rundown of all the points you plan to cover for the remainder of the meeting.

"Let's begin with introductions. My name is ___ ___, I hold a Bachelor's degree in Electrical and Electronics Engineering from NYU Stern, as well as an MBA in Marketing. Over the past five years, I've worked in the music industry as a marketing manager. Three of those years were spent here at Hybe. The recent promotional campaign for TXT's The Chaos Chapter was lead by my previous team and me, resulting in a positive return on investment. Now, with a new team, I aim to achieve similar success with Min PD-nim's D-Day album."

Once you finish your introduction, you introduce each member of your team. This is soon followed by a brief introduction from each c-suite executive.

The whole room falls silent when you begin diving into the bulk of the proposal; every measurable objective, goal, and market analysis is shared for D-Day. When it comes time to present the brand guide and album design, you invite your graphics team to speak.

"You'll notice that we have two versions of Min PD-nim's albums on the sheet in front of you," Yi-joon refers to the mockups you handed out earlier. A few executives nod quietly as they study the proposed album packaging while Yoongi leans over to Bang PD. He's whispering something but you're far to distant away to hear. His expressions aren't telling either.

Does he like it? Does he not? You don't know.

Nevertheless, you give a subtle smile to Yi-joon as encouragement to continue.

"We've opted for a sleek, pitch-black design for the first version, and a dusty brown for the second. The first version symbolizes the past, characterized by societal expectations and internal struggles, while the second represents the present and future, conveying a message of liberation. To complement these themes, we've selected a bold and daring font to exude the album's transparency. This design consistency extends to the album's contents; for instance, lyrical cards will reflect the respective color and style of the version they belong to."

Hybe's Chief Marketing Officer appears to be in approval with the entirety of the plan so far, yet it's short lived when a low voice interrupts.

"I think the vision of album's design aligns closely with mine, so I like what I see in front of me." Yoongi pauses and places the mockup on the table. "There's one aspect that I'd like to discuss in hopes of some insight however. I've been mauling over it for a while now."

"I'll do my best to–" Hybe's Chief Marketing Officer opens his mouth to respond yet closes it immediately when he notices Yoongi's gaze sharply shifts to you. It's a signal that it's your insight he specifically requests.

"Please go on," you reply.

"Regarding the name under which the album should be released, should it be 'Agust D' or 'Suga'? I'm personally biased towards Agust D because it holds more weight for me. It's close to my heart and the stories I have to tell as Agust D are heavier than those of Suga, right? The D even stands for Daegu, my hometown where I grew up and where my parents still live. Suga on the other hand is my stage name, which I have some identity in as well."

You don't answer immediately, preferring to carefully process everything he's said. Your team has already proposed to release the album under 'Agust D', yet he makes a valid point that 'Suga' is also a part of him.

"I understand that releasing the album under 'Suga' has its merit. However, I still support the original idea of releasing it under 'Agust D'. As you've mentioned, the name carries a deeper meaning, evoking memories, emotions, trials, and tribulations. I'd also like to emphasize that by releasing D-Day under 'Agust D', you can showcase who the real Agust D is. The collaboration with IU in People Pt. 2 already has you one step in that door."

Like you, Yoongi considers your words cautiously, weighing them in his mind. "Thank you ___-nim," he finally speaks. "Your perspective is reassuring. We'll proceed with releasing the album under 'Agust D'.

Following your short discussion, the graphics team continues presenting their design materials. Minor comments are made by Hybe executives, but Yoongi doesn't comment again until half-way into the social media segment.

"Why do we need to schedule this many Weverse Lives? People might get tired of seeing my face after so many in a row. ARMY will read, 'Min Yoongi started a live' and say to their friends, 'This is the fifth time in a row, is he in love with his own voice or something?'." His joke sparks a light in the room as Bang PD gives a chuckle.

"I don't think that's going to be an issue for you Yoongi," he replies. "Don't you know the strength of your own fanbase?" Bang PD's statement is undeniable. Everyone in the room is well aware of Min Yoongi's international fanbase who willingly stay up all hours of the night just to catch a glimpse of him. In fact, rather than seeing less of him, they hope to receive his live notifications more, as Yoongi isn't as active on Weverse as other idols.

It's clear that compliments like these aren't easy for Yoongi to take though, judging by the flushed look that subtly sweeps over his face. You'd react the same way to be honest.

"If I may Min PD-nim," you speak up, deciding to offer an alternative plan. "Leveraging Weverse Live to help promote D-Day will draw significant international engagement. We know that time differences pose to be a challenge which is why we proposed an increase of live sessions per week. However, we understand that going live this often might be exhausting. Would you consider reducing the frequency to once or twice a week instead?"

"I'm open to once a week but didn't we film the 'Suga: Road to D-Day' documentary for a similar reason? Won't it be too much to add more than two Weverse Lives throughout the entire promotional phase?" Yoongi's challenge is met with an unanimous hum of support from his fellow executives. You'd feel intimidated if you didn't already have a justification mapped out.

"The objective behind releasing 'Suga: Road to D-Day' on Disney+ differs from that of Weverse Lives," you rebuttal confidently. "While the documentary presents a structured behind-the-scenes view of D-Day's development, the Lives focus on building hype among your existing fans who know you well, will spread the word to their peers, and will likely pre-order the album. As you're aware, Lives are more personal and stripped down, allowing your fanbase to feel closer to you."

Thinking of no further objectives, Yoongi, still somewhat unsure, accepts your suggestion. "Once a week will be fine then. While we're still on the topic, do we know when 'Suga: Road to D-Day' is set to release on Disney+?"

"Our digital marketing and promo team will be reviewing the specifics of that soon," you inform. "Right now we have the documentary releasing April 23 of next year. The poster for the film will release a week and a half earlier on the 12th."

Rather than furthering the discussion, Yoongi sends an understanding nod your way which allows the social media team to resume their portion of the proposal. Recording more Weverse Lives than usual remains a pain point for him, but he's willing to move forward if it means connecting with his fanbase.

Alast, after what seems like three hours of social media; followed by financing & budget talk, the last team to present their material takes lead of the meeting.

"We'd like to provide a timeline for D-Day's promo schedule as a way to wrap up today's proposal," So-hyun from your digital marketing and promos team explains. "Promotions will begin April 10, 2023 and will run until April 25th. During this time the album's track list, concept photos, MV Teaser, and official MV will drop. As far as concert schedule, we're proposing April 26-June 24. These dates include U.S, Asia, and Korea Tours."

"We might need to rethink concert dates but for now I'm on onboard." Yoongi remains brief in his interjection, allowing So-hyun to continue.

"As far as other marketing channels, we plan to implement both print and digital methods including billboards, banners, paid search ads, and YouTube. We'd also like to reach out to a variety of magazines like Rolling Stones Magazine for interviews. If we want to extend our global reach even further, we can book a time slot on the Jimmy Fallon Show. Bare in mind that if we go this route, we'll need to decide fairly quick, as slots are in high demand."

You notice Bang PD whispering amongst Yoongi and his Chief Finance Officer when Jimmy Fallon is mentioned. Yoongi seems the least interested. Perhaps he isn't fond of being front and center of talk shows, you guess.

"When will we need a decision for the Jimmy Fallon Show?" Bang PD inquires for the group.

"No later than three weeks from now," So-hyun answers. "It's a tight deadline but it can been done if we get the official go."

Bang PD directs his attention to Yoongi who's chosen to be silent in this conversation. "What do you think, Yoongi? It's your call."

"Maybe," he says, "give me a day or two to think on it."

Another ten minutes of productive overview with your promos team pass and soon, you're standing up to adjourn the meeting. You have to admit that out of all the proposals you've given in your career, this goes right to the top.

Your team was phenomenal today, and despite the the fact that several Hybe executives are biting at the bit to finally go on their lunch break, you feel confident that everyone is leaving on the same page.

"Min PD-nim."

You're ears inevitably pick up the conversation in front of you as you make your way out of the conference room. Yoongi and his Chief Financial Officer are running through some quick numbers only a few steps steps ahead, but with everyone simultaneously rushing in the same direction, neither must have realized you were within earshot.

"There's no doubt that she's good at what she does," Hybe's Chief Financial Officer continues. "Still, it's hard to believe that she's only 27 or 28. A person should take better care of themselves don't you agree? Like our Eunchae for example."

If there was a way to erase what you just heard, you'd do so, because in an instant, all previous successes you felt from today's proposal shatters to the ground. You're no stranger to receiving these sorts of comments about your appearance, yet it leaves your confidence fleeting, along with any amount of resilience you've built.

Blinking back the tears that threaten to spill, you exit the conference room the first chance you get. You have no desire to stick around for Yoongi's reply.

Not long after you leave does you phone ring off.

Tae 💚: Hey! How's the meeting going? Still available to get lunch this afternoon? I'm heading to the cafeteria as I type this.

You: It went okay. But I don't think I'll be coming to lunch, just a lot to do. I'm also not that hungry.

You second-guess how convincing your message is, knowing that it's your best friend on the other line. Regardless, it's the only words you can come up with right now. You really do have a lot of work ahead of you though, at least that part is true.

Tae 💚: Are you sure? I was looking forward on hearing how the meeting went! Wasn't there something you had to give me too?

The meaning of the last line suddenly dawns on you as you make your way down the long hallway. How could you forget? You made Taehyung one of his favorite foods to surprise him for lunch; Japchae, a sweet and savory dish of stir-fried glass noodles and vegetables.

You: Right, sorry it slipped from my mind for a second. I'll meet you in the cafeteria to give it to you.

"Why won't you stay and eat with me?" Taehyung devours the homemade Japchae you made for him with delight, a pair of chopsticks clamped in his hand.

"I don't have much of an appetite, Tae."

You've already told him this twice already, clarifying that you'd be heading back to your office once you deliver his food. Evidently, he's not letting you slip away easily.

"Then take a break with me instead, even if it's only for ten minutes." You watch as your best friend swiftly pulls out the chair next to him from under the table, gesturing you to sit. "Tell me what's got you down," he says. "Did Yoongi say something to you? He can be a bit too outspoken with his opinions sometimes."

Feeling defeated, you slide into the chair. "No, the meeting was fine. I'm just overthinking something that happened."

You then proceed to explain what you overheard Hybe's Chief Finance Officer say about you from earlier, that you didn't look healthy enough for your age and using Eunchae as an example. The scowl that appears on Taehyung's face as you retell the incident is unmistakable–he's clearly pissed.

"First of all," Taehyung starts once you finish, jaw clenched. "Eunchae is 17 and is a part of a Korean girl group. She has an entire team dedicated to making sure her appearance is flawless. It's the idol life; trust me, I'm well acquainted with it, so it's not a fair comparison. Secondly, Hybe's CFO is an asshole who I'd replace in a day. I don't want you letting him make you feel insignificant just because you don't conform to his narrow idea of how a woman should look."

You appreciate Taehyung's efforts to cheer you up, though you remain unaffected. Besides, he still isn't aware of Yoongi's involvement since you purposely left that detail out due to their close friendship.

"Yeah, I don't know. We don't have to talk about it anymore." You decide to dismiss the topic entirely and reach for your phone, along with a pair of earbuds bundled in your pocket. "Wanna listen to something?"

Music has always bonded you and Taehyung's friendship, as you've frequently found yourselves fully immersed in timeless songs from King of Leon and Led Zeppelin together. Taehyung nearly accepts the offer to listen with you once again, but then he freezes all movement. An eager grin follows close after.

"Hyung!" His voice echos though the room, earning the attention of Min Yoongi who's just entered the cafeteria. This time, you feel nothing but discomfort when the man looks your way.

"I have some material I need to review from my promo team. I'll text you later, okay?" You leave your best friend no time to reply as you quickly rise from your chair, stick your phone in your pant pocket, and head for the nearest exit. Yoongi attempts to make eye contact with you on your way out, but you avoid it completely.

When he approaches Taehyung, he acknowledges your semi-odd behavior. "I didn't mean to make her leave," he states, joining the younger at the table.

Taehyung offers a light shrug in response. "Don't worry, you didn't. She had other matters to get to. Something with her team members I think."

Yoongi grabs a fresh clementine from a nearby fruit bowl and beings peeling it little by little. "You two must be pretty close if you're having your lunches together."

It's not hard for Taehyung to read between the lines of what his member is insinuating.

"We've been friends for a while," he clarifies. "Just friends, nothing else."

a/n: Hope you enjoyed! Lmk what you think 🥰

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hellishjoel · 7 months

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7.2k // pairing:dbf/neighbor!joel x f!reader Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

summary: Joel whisks you away to Houston for the weekend under the guise of a work trip. You keep a secret from him to try and keep your fling undetected from your parents. warnings: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, dbf/neighbor!joel, smut, swearing, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel in his 40s), pet names, fingering, oral (f! receiving), unprotected p in v (shower sex hehe), a little overstim if you squint

A/N: sorry not sorry this chapter took a month+, but I hope you like it! A little drammaaaa. and a reminder, they still have all day saturday and sunday together ;)

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You gulp. “Joel-”, it’s almost in a warning tone. “I don’t- fuck, it feels-” “Uh-huh,” Joel murmurs against your core, nodding gently, grazing his nose against your clit in the process before his warm mouth tightens around your clit. And he suckles. You cry out, walls clenching around his fingers as he milks an orgasm from you. You damn near crumble, but he tightens the hold on your hip to keep you afloat. “There ya go, princess, come on my fingers,”

June 23rd 7:48 P.M.

I’ve had some time to think about Joel, and how much I like to think about him, and how things aren’t an accident.

Thinking about how unlikely it is that we sparked.

How Joel could have turned left, and I could have turned right. But we didn’t.

Instead of running away, I said yes, and so did he.

The impossibility of us seems so incredible, almost unbelievable.

I love that so many things had to happen for us to be where we are right now.

I saw the sun melt his eyes into amber, and he liked the way I smiled in the moonlight.

This feeling was radical, unnerving, scary.

I didn’t know why it was called falling or crashing into love. Perhaps I do now.

“You could sit there and read all day, huh?” Joel interrupts your thoughts as he starts to guide his truck off the freeway, passing a large aluminum Welcome to Houston! sign lit up by the truck’s headlights.

Butterflies flutter in your stomach, cheeks squished from smiling as his hand settles on your upper thigh, thumb drawing lazy circles on your sweet skin.

“I’m not reading anymore. Got too dark.” He’s referring to the novel you brought for the trip from your to-be-read pile that you started when you first got on the road.

The drive from Austin to Houston was two-and-a-half hours long, so you decided to saddle the passenger seat with different activities and snacks to keep yourself busy and out of Joel’s hair, much to his behest. He said he enjoyed letting you ramble on about whatever you were thinking about; said it was like listening to a podcast.

“But I am writing.” You hum quietly, penning in your last thought before it gets lost in the black of night.

“What’cha writin’, then?” Joel's curious eyes wander to the nest you had made for yourself in the passenger seat as he tilts his chin up to try and read beyond your journal cover.

You snap it closed and slip the pen in somewhere between the pages. “Keep your eyes on the road, old man.” Your tone is teasing, making you grin even more as he grumbles in annoyance under his breath as the truck slowly approaches a stop light.

Once off the freeway and down to the local roads, you roll the window down. You watch the moon start to rise in the sky, feeling goosebumps grow on your arms and exposed legs while the wind lazily flows through your hair. The gentle night breeze is welcome to air out Joel’s stuffy truck.

You were supposed to be his navigator once he got off the freeway, but you were a bit preoccupied looking around yourself.

You and Joel left Friday evening as soon as he was done with work, and now you were lightly coasting the streets of Houston as the sun finished setting. You could see the diverse architecture of downtown, the skyline of skyscrapers and high-rises were all crowded together. As you moved further into midtown, Joel drove past small businesses and parks. You let your hand float out the window, surfing the wind like a wave.

“Hey, space cadet, if you’re not gonna give me the directions to the motel, the least you can do is toss me a french fry.”

Your head cocks back to him, curiously smiling as you reach your hand aimlessly into the fast food bag, retrieving a fry and bringing it up to his lips. You settled on McDonald’s before you left Danbury, partially because Joel felt like being a little cheap, and you agreed they had the best, saltiest french fries.

You feed it to him, and he teasingly sucks the salt off your fingers.

“Gross, Joel.”

He sneers as he watches you wipe your hands on your thighs to rid yourself of his saliva. “You like it.”

He’s not wrong. You force yourself to look back out the window again to hide the heat creeping up the back of your neck.

Joel smirks and squeezes your thigh to bring you back to him. When you look over to the handsome man donning his usual green flannel, the wind furles your hair in messy, unkempt streaks.

He hesitates for a moment, but now that you’re no longer preoccupied with reading or writing, he holds your hand. You feel him test the waters, settling for just lightly clasping it in your lap, but it’s not enough for him. His thick fingers and calloused hand meets the heart of your palm as his fingers weave with your own. He lets out a little sigh and settles himself there.

You feel like teasing him. You’re afraid to hold my hand but not to fuck my throat in your woodshed with a party right outside? But then you remember how difficult it was to kiss him. It still felt like a slip-up, you had to admit. Especially if this was supposed to be just a casual relationship. It felt intimate and emotionally charged. But it was just kissing, right? And this was just holding hands.

Your thoughts wrestle around your head a bit. Joel feels it. You’re not sure how he always seems to know what you’re thinking, but he does. His thumb strokes a gentle line up and down the muscle of your thumb, a silent way of saying stop thinking for once. It’s appreciated, the sense of care and thoughtfulness he provided without even speaking a word.

Ever since he took you to that bar, Past Lives, all you could think about was Joel. Joel on repeat. Joel taking you away from the distracted environment of the lakehouse. Joel showing you the map, saying there was more to the world than Texas. Joel kissing you. Joel touching you. Joel fucking you. Joel protecting you. Joel saving you.

As much as you’ve had time to reflect on Joel, you’ve also reflected on your parents. They were hardly bad people, but they didn’t respect your adult choices. You came to tearfully realize that your relationship with them had slowly deteriorated since leaving for university. You grew independent, and that was especially hard for them. Something you had trouble understanding, something Joel didn’t understand either.

You called Joel Thursday night before your trip under the guise of asking if you should pack any specifics, but the conversation ended up landing on his relationship and parenting with Sarah. You told him how you appreciated the way he let Sarah grow and experience things, that it was good for her.

“She’s a tough girl, and I trust’er. Nothin’ much left to say.”

“So, what-” you stumble and scoff over the phone. “My parents don’t trust me? Or think I’m not tough enough to tackle the world?”

“S’not what I’m sayin’, darlin’. I don’t know what’s up with your folks. But you don’t need their approval, you’re an adult. All you need is t’… t’ trust yourself. Sounds fuckin’ cheesy, but it’s true.”

You pause, twisting a strand of hair around your finger as your eyebrows furrow, thinking over his words. “Y’think if I act a little more confident about it, they’ll start believing it too?”

Joel’s chuckle is a little crackle-ey on the line as he wanders around his house talking to you, going in and out of good reception. “Gotta start somewhere, buttercup. At the end of the day, it’s about your happiness, not theirs. Don’t gotta be such a people pleaser all the time.”

Yes, I do, you think.

“Thanks, Joel.”

“Sure thing, hon’.”

Dusk on the outskirts of Houston. The houses become few and far between. There’s more green grass and flourished trees. Joel slowly pulls into a small driveway, a large blue neon-lit sign designated that you were at your motel for the weekend. The entire truck is highlighted in a pale blue from the illumination, you nearly have to squint. There were no more than two or three cars parked outside. It was a two-level motel, with an outside staircase to navigate the different floors.

“The Blue Swallow Motel.” Your attention strays to Joel with furrowed brows. “Why here?”

Joel shrugs and navigates himself into a parking spot with ease. “Don’t know. Like blue swallows.”

Curiosity sparks you.

“You like blue swallows? You’ve seen one in person?”

He shakes his head and says nothing for a moment, but it almost looks like he can’t help himself to dispel some information. “They’re native to Africa, only ever seen the North American variants ‘round here.” He lets the engine grumble down once he pulls the key from the ignition, but you’re still awestruck in his passenger seat.

“I’m sorry- Joel Miller Bird Enthusiast?” The eager tone in your voice gives away your excitement, and Joel seems to despise it when you get too excited about him. He has to close his eyes and hang his head, wishing he never said anything.

“Oh, Joel Miller, don’t even try to deny it, I’ve seen those bird guides on your bookshelf, you’re a birder.”

His neck swivels, eyes wide and defensive. “I am not a birder.”

You throw your head back in laughter, and eventually, he cracks a smile. “They’re interestin’, okay?”

You playfully pat his shoulder with reassurance, nodding in agreement. The two of you settle down from your fits of laughter and look over the exterior of the motel once more.

“Y’said you wanted somethin’ quaint? Small?”��

Being with Joel and having no other distractions was your goal for this weekend. Since this trip was coming out of Joel’s pocket, you insisted you didn’t need some fancy hotel. You’ve traveled to Houston a handful of times before, and the last thing you wanted was for your view outside some high-rise hotel to be Danbury in the distance.

You squeeze his hand once more and nod, stars lighting up behind your eyes. “It’s perfect. Thanks for finding something simple.”

Joel teeters on your appreciation but ultimately ends up shaking his head. “Could’ve gotten something a little nicer for ya, maybe closer to downtown-”

You stop him right there and bring his rough knuckles to your plush lips, adding a kiss to each one. “I said it’s perfect, so it’s perfect. I like it, it’s got charm, chutzpah even. Plus, looks like we’ll have the pool to ourselves.” You hum with a devious little smirk. You hop out of the truck and open the backdoor to grab your things.

“Pool, you say?” He retorts, an eyebrow raised with narrow eyes on you. You lightly shrug as you grab your backpack.

“Might have forgotten my swimsuit, though. Shame.”

You brush past Joel, who is scoffing lightly under his breath in disbelief, duffel bag brushing against his calves as he walks with you towards the motel office. You would be the death of this man.

“Damn shame.” He mutters, a smirk hanging low on his lips.

---

Room 135 was marked on the dark chestnut door, a small white plate with black numbering decked on.

There wasn’t much to be said about the motel room itself. You tried to stifle a laugh when you and Joel both walked in to see two separate queen beds. The sheets were white, but the top cover was an extravagant red pattern that looked like it got lost in the 80s. A side table was resting against the wall towards the headboards with a beige telephone placed on top, resting over a few local restaurant menus. Two small lamps were attached to the wall above the beds, perfectly opposite of the television sat on top of a tall dresser.

“Is this your idea of a romantic getaway?” You teased as you walked further inside over the beige carpet. “Two beds don’t exactly scream romantic.” You set your backpack down on the foot of the bed furthest from the door and closest to the bathroom around the corner. You assume this bed will just be used to hold both of your luggage, not a person.

“No,” Joel said through a tight gruff as he strained to lift his bag of tools and luggage onto the edge of his own bed. “S’a work trip. Not a romantic getaway.”

Your smile falters as you purse your lips and fiddle with your hands behind your back.

“So, this really is a work trip?” You clarify, to which Joel looks at you a bit confused.

“Course it is.”

A light boil simmers through your chest. Maybe you will be sleeping in your own bed tonight. Joel could sense your flattened mood, and he quickly felt the need to sweep up the pieces of what he broke. He was bad with words, terrible really, but he tried to find the right ones for you.

“I said that wrong. It’s a work trip but,” he trails off and falters as he saddles his hands on his hips for a moment and sighs, your doe eyes looking up to his own. “But I brought you here to spend some real time with ya. Didn’t wanna,” he shrugs and rolls his eyes. A classic Joel Miller sign that he wants to say something a little personally emotional.

“What?” You probe him, a smile tickling your lips as you loop your hands to rest just above the ones on his hips. “You didn’t want to what, Joel?” You ask, setting your chin on his chest and looking up at him with a goofy grin.

He sighs and rolls his eyes again, having a hard time looking at you. “I didn’t wanna go on this trip alone. Didn’t want to leave you at home when I could bring ya with.”

Joel wasn’t a social man. In fact, if the world went to shit, you think he might really enjoy the solitude. But for him to admit that he would rather have you in his space than out of it, it’s quite endearing.

Now you’re the one who's hiding a blush. You settle your cheek against his chest and sigh, soaking in his scent and his warmth. Joel’s hand comes to rest on the side of your head, gently stroking your hair away from your face as the two of you relax into a gentle hug.

“Were you serious about that no bathin’ suit thing?” He asks after a moment of silence, causing you to roll your eyes and shove him a good distance away.

“As serious as a heart attack.” You sneer as you round the bed to the bathroom, needing desperately to relieve yourself after the drive. Of all colors, it’s a beautiful mint green. Incredibly retro, you think as you use the toilet and stare at the shower absentmindedly. You roll your phone around in your hands once you finish washing them, a lump rising in your throat.

Your mother’s words echoed in your ear.

“If it gets serious, we want to meet this young man.”

There was no young man. The young man your mother referred to was really Joel. Panic was spreading through your body just at the thought of trying to fix this situation. They figured out you were seeing someone, they just didn’t quite know who. A few heavy breaths labor out of you, anxiety nestling in your chest.

“You okay, buttercup? Been a minute.” Joel asks cautiously from the opposite side of the door, his knuckles offering a few polite knocks.

Your chest surges. You didn’t want him to know you’d slipped up, half-told your parents the truth. You didn’t want him to end things out of fear of them finding out. “Y-Yeah, I’m fine, Joel. Just.. gimme a minute.”

His feet don’t move on the other side of the door. He doesn’t want to leave you, feeling something slightly wrong.

“Really, Joel, just- checking out the facilities.” God.

He sighs before you hear him back off. “Alright. Lemme know f’you need anythin’.”

You need to act, or else this feeling will eat you alive. Finally, with some accurate cell service, you text the first person you think of. Nathan. Remember that childhood crush of yours? You hadn’t seen him in years, and with how gorgeous he was growing up, there was a scary feeling that you might be texting a man who had a girlfriend. But he was your only hope to cover up the mess you had made.

Growing up with Nathan and his parents being friends with your own always felt like a setup. Your mothers always cooed that you two just might end up marrying one another. At the time, you wished it was true, that all this exposure with him would lead to something romantic. But then you grew up, saw each other a little less over the summers, and grew apart. You still kept in contact via social media, but not often. You saw his life in pictures. One from a homecoming dance, a group picture of him and his friends, an action shot of him playing basketball, a high school graduation picture, and a similar one for college graduation. He was still alive somewhere out there, you just didn’t know him like you used to.

Nathan was always kind, goofy, very golden retriever-like. Summers spent apart created a rift, but he was your childhood best friend and crush once upon a time. If he was willing to help you out, you owed him big time. So you shoot him a text and cross your fingers that this is still his number. The last thing logged in your messages was a silly conversation about cheetahs versus jaguars. You were team cheetahs, obviously.

You felt a slight sense of relief once you came up with a plan. Talk to Nathan. See if he can act as your fake boyfriend for your parents. See if he doesn’t think you’re damn crazy for concealing your forty-something-year-old fuck buddy.

You’re not really sure how to reignite the conversation, it’s been so damn long. You stare at the blank screen before you craft the brilliant message:

A sigh leaves your parted, anxious lips, and you shove your phone away.

---

You really did bring a bathing suit, much to Joel’s eagerness for the rumor to be true. You change into it with your back turned to him. You feel his eyes boring holes into you, sending a small dash of goosebumps up your arms. “I’m going for a dip before bed.” You say as you fiddle with the strings of your bikini top, struggling for a moment before you feel a warm presence step in behind you and fuss away with the strings himself.

You hum softly as he fastens the strings, making a bow at your midback. Joel’s lips brush against your shoulder before they start sponging gentle kisses up your neck. The hair you tied up into a loose bun tickles his nose.

“Such’a pretty girl.” He hums against your skin, a soft shiver trickling up your spine, lips parting in pleasure. “Too bad you’re not a very good girl.” Joel murmured as his hands slipped lower, past your hips, past the curve of your ass, until he was cupping both cheeks in his large palms. You gasp at the sensation, feeling his fingers squeeze at your flesh. A moan escapes your lips, you just can’t help it. You love it when Joel is handsy for you, the needy one.

You swallow the lump in your throat and turn in his arms, eagerly kissing him as you cup his cheeks. He fights for control instantly, pulling you in at your hips so your back arches backward out of habit. You let your head dip back, eyes dipping closed as his lips trail down your neck, then between the valley of your breasts, all while his wiry beard creates scratches in his wake.

“Do you have swim trunks?” You ask breathily, shoving him lightly by the top of the head further down your body. He drops to his knees and continues to trail kisses down your stomach.

The question catches him off guard.

“Do I- what?” He asks breathily, looking up at you as he sponges kisses over your clothed center.

“If you don’t have swim trunks,” you try to continue, “you can’t go swimming with me.” You say with a teasing smirk, stepping around Joel, who was awestruck kneeling on the ground, his hands still in place where he was cupping the backs of your thighs before he slaps them down on his own to show annoyance.

He was probably thinking how you just up and disappeared when you were just standing in front of him a moment ago. Joel grumbles something, but you’re already out the door of the motel room.

---

The pool is glowing in its blue hue, lit by dim lights around the perimeter and the silver moon in the sky.

In a world so vast, you couldn’t help but feel a little lost in wanting to explore it.

You take a breath in through your nose and test the water with a dip of your toe. A bit cold for your liking, but the warm Texas summers make your skin sticky and the air a bit stale. So you dive in.

The cool water is a shock to your system at first, with goosebumps growing on your skin like wildfire. Your face breaks the seal of the water, emerging over the light ripples you created upon diving in, catching your breath. You take a few leisurely laps along the outskirts, feeling weightless, free.

“Nice night.” Joel’s brassy voice breaks the gentle chorus of the summer cicadas. You hum as you carve your way through the water until you meet the pool’s edge. You rest your arms on the lip of the pool, bringing your breasts just above the surface of the water.

“Get. In.” You say with an authoritative voice, despite your eager smile.

He cocks his head a few degrees to the right, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “No. You look like a shivering chihuahua.”

His joke elicits a giggle from you.

“It’s only cold for the first few minutes. You’ll warm up.” You’re only half-lying, the pool was so fucking cold.

Joel merely shakes his head. “You’re crazy, buttercup.”

You hum as you push off the edge of the pool, moving towards the center, letting the water dance around you as your arms glide back and forth to keep you afloat.

“Sounds like you need some motivation.” Your eyes lock on Joel’s as your fingers navigate to the back of your bikini strings, slowly pulling the tie loose, feeling the water aid you in floating the material off your upper half. The top strings around your neck are still tied, concealing the full reveal of your breasts.

Joel’s once secure face fizzled, eyes straying and lips parting. A soft sigh escapes his lips as he kneels down, pointer finger curling towards him impatiently. “Get over here.”

You shake your head disobediently. “Now.” His barking urgency makes you stifle a smirk.

“Joel Miller afraid of a little cold water.” You shrug and move your fingers to the strings tied behind your neck, slowly tugging loose the threads. The material falls limp into the water, floating in front of you free from your body.

Joel watches with impatience, the spill of your breasts making his cock twitch inside his swim trunks. The mesh material was forgiving, allowing him to swell at the sight of you. The cold water has your nipples taut, drawn into sweet peaks. You’re just out of his fucking reach, too far into the pool for him to grab you.

He grunts quietly, jaw tight as you slowly swim closer to him. You shiver at his glance alone.

“If you want me,” your voice drops innocently, doe eyes making their appearance to reel him in, “you’ll get in the pool, Mr. Miller.”

Just out of his reach once more, you swim back to the center and push your thumbs into the band of your bikini bottoms, down your legs, leaving you bare in the pool for anyone to see from the highway or their own motel rooms. You must admit, Joel’s desperate gaze filled with want makes you squirm with excitement. Disobeying him lights that explosive even more.

He offers you his hand, one final offer. “Last chance, angel, get out of the pool.”

“Why do you even have swim trunks on if you aren’t going to get in?” You ask, eyes gazing over the tangled hair he has scattered across his chest.

“I was hoping these would appease you alone. Now come here,” he juts his hand out as an offering one last time.

You roll your eyes and swim closer, your breasts lapping in the water as you take Joel’s hand. And tug with all your strength.

His feet skid to try and hold him back, but he ultimately summersaults into the pool. You cover your mouth with your hand, unable to conceal your laughs as Joel emerges, sopping wet, cold, angry.

“Y-You-” He chatters his teeth, eyes screwed tight on you as he pushes his hand back through his soaked curls and down his face, grazing his wiry beard. “You’re gonna get it.”

Joel’s threat makes you squeal. You attempt to doggy paddle away, but the grip he catches on your arm is iron. He pulls you back to him, and your body glides through the water, arms securing on his biceps once you’re locked in his hold. He’s threatening, but not as much so when you wrap your legs around his waist and feel his half-hard length.

You raise your eyebrow at him, and he half-chuckles.

“Such a fuckin’ piece of work you are.” He grunts out, hands searing the flesh of your hips as he skirts his hand down lower, cupping the globes of your ass.

A hum tickles your throat as you lean in and press your lips to his jawline in a tempting kiss, smiling as Joel’s nose playfully nudges yours, leaning in for more.

It’s stomach-twisting how you feel so comfortable with Joel, how you sink into his body, and how he warms your core. You kiss him until your lips feel bruised, and he grips your beautiful curves with eagerness. The two of you kiss like hungry teenagers, finally outside the watchful eyeline of your parents. Joel’s cock is hardening against your naked core.

He forces himself off of you, groaning lightly as he strays from your eyes. Cupping his jawline, you angle him back to you, resting your foreheads together.

“Makin’ me get all riled up like a damn teenager.” His warm breath puffs across your face, his words make your bundle of nerves tingle.

“I like that I’m the one causing it.”

Joel chews at the inside of his cheek before giving you a tight little nod. “Me too, buttercup.”

---

Joel decides pool play is over. He gets out first, snags your bikini pieces that floated to the edge of the pool and starts walking leisurely back into the motel room.

He only hears your cursing and belligerent rambling after he returns from turning on the shower, piping hot.

“Can’t hear ya when you’re chatterin’ your teeth.”

Joel returns to the bathroom and strips his swim trunks off, still half-hard. He tests the water with his hand, giving you an affirming nod it was okay to step in.

You’re still angry and seething, having to streak your way back to the room naked and freezing your bare ass off. He looks at your crossed arms and playfully tuts. “You’re the one that thought t’drag me in there with ya, princess.”

Joel follows you into the shower, the water splashing searing hot droplets. It only feels that hot because you’re readjusting from the pool’s temperature. You find yourself huddling into Joel’s warmth.

He finds it endearing, the way your head settles on his chest, your ear to his heart, too chilled to let him go. He angles the showerhead downwards, letting it focus on your body first. He could wait.

You gently release your crossed arms, letting them wrap low around his hips. He had a few extra pounds of flesh low on his tummy and on the sides of his waist. You gently pinch the area and smile.

“Stop that.” He hisses, eyebrows knitted together.

“But I like it. You’re my favorite person to hug.”

The sentiment splashed warmth on the back of his neck. Joel has picked up a few extra pounds from town barbeques, and beers tossed back during football games. He used to not like it, the way he had to loosen his belt after a big meal, or having to purchase his new t-shirts in a size up. He didn’t think about it much, but naked with you in the shower, feeling you admire his ever-changing body, was a comfort.

You look up after a few moments of silence, setting your chin on his chest and feeling his chest hair graze against your skin.

Joel wants to warm you up, get you to relax under the showerhead. He presses a nimble kiss to your lips, pitter-pattering kisses along the extent of your body before he is down on his knees, angling your back to rest against the shower wall.

Tired after your car ride and melting under the shower’s sprinkling water, you ache for a relief that will come from your head hitting a pillow. But Joel had other things in mind, things that would make you forget you were tired in an instant.

Now under his watchful eye, lips and wiry beard scratching at your soft skin, you lightly part your legs for his entrance. God, please don’t let me slip and embarrass myself right now. Let me have this one good thing, this man’s tongue against my pussy would make me a God-willing woman.

Joel can feel your exhausted body, begging to find a bed. But he had you where he wanted you, and his mouth was watering to taste your sweet musky arousal. His hands settle themselves on the backs of your thighs, supporting your weight as his head leans into your warmth.

He brings two fingers forward, parting your center, licking a slow draw up your core. His tongue flicks off your clit, your bundle of nerves twitches. Something flips in his stomach, and his cock grows heavy against his thigh.

You taste sweet and serene, something he’s grown an appetite for. With several days apart awaiting your weekend trip away, he often found himself at night, spilling into his hand thinking about your young, beautiful pussy flushed against his mouth. He takes this opportunity to relish in you moaning his name, without any curious ears.

His tongue sinks lower, swirling around your tense entrance. The swell of his tongue gushes more arousal from you, and he gets a proper taste that isn’t mixed with water from the shower.

Joel’s grip on your thigh tightens, and he laps at your clit like a famished man.

The constant flicks have you gasping for air in the all-too-warm shower. Your fingers weave into his soaking wet curls, still finding a grip as your thigh twitches against his hand.

Joel’s two fingers parting your center gently massage at your entrance, wiggling in gently as he suckles on your clit, and you mewl weakly.

His tongue and teeth lightly graze your sensitivity, feeling stars clouding your vision as his fingers set a gentle pace.

“Ooh,” you sigh weakly, feeling his fingers hit the perfect spot, one that makes you shake.

Joel knows that sound, knows the feeling. He looks up, admires the way your pretty lips are parted in bliss. The hand on your thigh is brought to your stomach, gently stroking over the flesh.

You watch him a little curiously, a little fucked. His mouth returns to your clit, but his hand still falters on your lower abdomen. You whimper as he adds a little pressure, and quickens his fingers. It’s jaw-dropping, the friction and pressure, piling on top of each other.

You gulp. “Joel-”, it’s almost in a warning tone. “I don’t- fuck, it feels-”

“Uh-huh,” Joel murmurs against your core, nodding gently, grazing his nose against your clit in the process before his warm mouth tightens around your clit. And he suckles.

You cry out, walls clenching around his fingers as he milks an orgasm from you. You damn near crumble, but he tightens the hold on your hip to keep you afloat.

“There ya go, princess, come on my fingers,” he grunts, jaw tight, and teeth clenched as he watches your cum-arousal mixture glide down his fingers in a sticky mess. He slowly stands, watching you pant for air, as he sucks his digits clean with an evil smirk.

The temperature in here is too much, heat consumes your body as you weakly grip his biceps.

“God damn, Mr. Miller.” You say breathlessly. You take him in a quick kiss, moaning weakly into his mouth at your taste. His tongue tangles with you, and he keeps his fingers on your core. His first two fingers start to slowly circle your clit again, but it’s entirely too soon.

You whimper weakly into his mouth, your clit aching and still recovering from your oral orgasm.

“Mmm- can’t do it, Joel.”

Joel snarls as he swiftly turns you around, his foot hitting the insides of both of your ankles to spread your legs. Your face is plastered against the shower wall, watching him out of the corner of your eye with your jaw dropped.

“Be good for me, baby girl, show how thankful you are.”

You whine at his raspy voice, feeling its timbre bounce against the walls.

“Please,” you beg in a whisper, inching your feet farther apart for him to take you in the shower.

Joel strokes his cock, seething through his teeth at the desperate relief he’s feeling. His swollen tip vies for your attention. He lines himself up, his other hand on your hip as he notches himself inside.

You visibly flinch away, Joel hushing you softly as he tries again.

“Gotta relax for me, pretty girl.”

You sigh weakly and let yourself melt with the warm water, fluttering your eyes closed as you gently jut your hips back into this, needing to be filled.

Joel tries again after lining his tip up and down your slit and gathering your arousal. He notches inside of you once more, causing your eyelashes to flutter. He slowly presses on.

The drinks must have really loosened you up since the last time the two of you fooled around in his truck. He wasn’t so hard to take then, but now he feels thicker, rounder. You could feel the thick vein on the underside of his cock as he ruts his hips into your ass.

Finally, you will yourself to breathe, moaning his name in desperation.

Joel’s trying to contract his lungs, but you’re gripping onto him so tight, the heat of the shower going to his head.

You hum and purposely grip your walls around him, squeezing for his last breath.

Joel snarls and smacks your ass from below, watching the fatty flesh jiggle. It stings, but you like it, thinking about his large handprint marking you red. He winds his hips back up and presses in, groaning lowly as he fills you to the brim.

He sets a decent pace, one that robs you of what air you have left in your lungs. Your entire body feels sensitive, your cheek growing sore from being fucked against the shower wall. But it feels entirely too good, a certain itch that only Joel Miller can scratch.

Every thrust he makes, you moan his name like a broken record. “Joel, Joel, Joel,” you moan and grunt it so much, that it starts to sound like it’s not a real word anymore.

You reach back an arm blindly, gripping his bicep and stitching your nails into his skin.

Joel grunts out weakly, the burning sensation you caused on his arm making him go wild. He reaches for both of your wrists and plants them at the base of your back, forcing your face to be your only weight to keep you up against the shower.

But it unlocks a new angle, one that has you crying out curses and his heavenly name.

“Fuck me, Joel, fuck- fuck your favorite little pussy,” you mewl out, feeling his cock twitch inside you.

“God dammit, fuck me good like that, like that,” your eyes clench close, panting heavily. “Right there, daddy, please, Mr. Miller, touch my clit, please,” you beg, the pet name rolling off your tongue.

It makes him snarl. He sets a hellish pace. His chest puffs up, his broad biceps locking around you as his fingers stroke over your pussy.

He loves the way you wind him up. Because you are his favorite young pussy, one he’s made his own, railing you so good that you forget about anyone else that may have had you before.

All you know is Joel Miller.

His thighs and lower tummy smack your ass cheeks, a distinct slapping sound filling the shower and pinging off the walls right back into your ears.

Stars flutter behind your eyes, you feel light-headed. The water splashes warm across your back, allowing Joel even more slip.

The harder he fucks you, the closer he moves in. Now he has his entire torso flushed against your back, flicking his hips up into you with precision.

Suddenly he’s grabbing your leg by the underside of your knee, hiking it up, and planting it against the shower wall as he exposes a whole new sensation.

You can’t last any longer. His fingers circle dangerously around your clit, and now he’s pounding you into the wall, forcing friction against his glorious thrusts. You whimper loudly as his tip kisses your cervix repeatedly, feeling your walls clench around him as you come.

It’s jaw-dropping, heart-surging, mind-fucking how good he feels coming inside of you. It’s warm, warmer than the water still raining over you. It’s comforting the way his seed spreads throughout your core, his grunts filling the shower as he drops his last load inside of you.

And goddamn, he loves how you milk him dry.

You weakly slide down the wall, tiredly dropping your leg once he pulls out.

“No ya’don’t.” Joel quickly says, snagging a strong arm around your waist and hauling you up. You whimper as he peels your face off the wall, blinking rapidly as he spins you to face him. “C’mere.” Joel embraces you, and you lean weakly into his front like a bear hug.

“Water,” you whisper against his pec. He turns the shower temperature down, a more comforting heat surrounding you now.

“You’re alright.” He assures.

After time to recuperate, Joel reaches for the shampoo bottle, squirting a small amount into his palm and lathering it between his hands. You feel a little better standing, but you still stay wrapped up in his arms, in his hug.

He massages the shampoo into your locks, gently massaging it against your scalp, before he gently washes the bubbles out. He gathers conditioner next, letting it soak into your ends.

You hide your smile against his chest, knowing that he probably had to learn this type of stuff for Sarah. Hair care, skin care, tampons and pads, all the sort of stuff single dads fear. You wonder whatever could have been in Sarah’s mother’s mind to leave a guy like Joel Miller. Sure, he wasn’t perfect, but he seemed to fit into your life like a glove right now. For however long that perfect fit would be.

A weak sigh leaves your lips as he strokes your head sweetly, his fingers then grazing your cheek.

“Y’alright? Feel good?”

You nod weakly and smile, letting your arms drop gently as you pull away. “M’tired.”

Joel stifles a chuckle and nods. “Me too, baby. Sit tight.”

Once Joel is assured you’re not going to lose your strength standing up on your own, he shuts off the water and steps out of the shower, wrapping his towel low on his waist. You gaze at the lines around his hips, and how they dip down into his towel.

You clear your throat as you quickly look away once he approaches you with two towels. He wraps one around your shoulders, gently moving his warm hands up and down the sides of your arms.

You look so sweet, warm and cozy, cum-filled, at ease. The stress he usually sees you carrying around is wiped away. He hoped he had something to do with it.

Joel leans down and presses a light kiss to your lips. Not hungry, not desperate, not chasing. Delicate. Assuring.

You smile tiredly and shyly evade his eye contact, something that he hates to admit is goddamn adorable on you.

Both of you towel dry off any remaining droplets of water. Joel forces you to show him how you even get the towel you wrap around your hair on your head.

“This is girlhood, Joel Miller.” You say once you secure it on, watching him shake his head in disbelief.

“A mystery to me.” He says with a boyish grin.

You both exit the steamy bathroom and search your bags for pajamas. You packed a few comfy shirts for bed. And only one extra pair of panties. You better be damn careful with your one last sacred pair. You toss it back into your pack for now, deciding that they would probably be taken off in the morning anyway. You slip under the covers of Joel’s bed, saving him a space you hope he fills. Of course, he does.

Joel flips off the light switch, indulging the room in a black and blue hue. He grunts quietly as he slips into the covers. The both of you just melt into the mattress.

You nuzzle into his side, and he wraps an arm around your shoulders. He makes gentle circles into your back as your phone buzzes on the nightstand. You sigh and turn your back to Joel to retrieve it from the charger.

“Your parents askin’ if we made it okay?” Joel murmurs tiredly, eyes closed, waiting for you to return to his side.

Your breath catches in your throat. It’s a text message from Nathan.

Hey stranger

“Yeah,” you lie, your fingers gliding across the keyboard to configure a response. “They uh.. They’re tellin’ me to not bug you too much on the trip.” You awkwardly chuckle, your back still turned to him as you stare at Nathan’s message.

Joel dryly chuckles as he reaches a hand out and settles it on your hip. “Quite the opposite.”

You feel terrible concealing this from Joel. But you don’t want him to think you were young and foolish letting your secret fling slip. This was to make things work, to keep the secret buried from your parents.

Another message from Nathan makes your phone buzz in your hand.

Heard you’re in Danbury for the summer with your folks. Wanna catch up?

Your heart sits in your throat, shocked by his ask.

You flip over your phone, opting to reply in the morning. You’re beat. You sigh weakly and return to Joel’s side, hiding your face in his shoulder as you gently kiss along the muscle. He was already passed out.

As messy as this felt, being with Joel felt like being tossed a life jacket in open water. And you weren’t going to lose that safety, not if you could help it.

---

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strlingsav · 7 months

Note

Bestie. Can I request Keegan. He needs the Savannah treatment. Tension with reader and they bang. That’s all I need.

Can be enemies, can be friends who refuse to acknowledge the tension, what ever you fancy. ✨🌚❤️

Anything for you and your man 🫶🏻 ily

Requited

– Keegan P. Russ x F!Reader

— Tension between yourself and Keegan comes to a boiling point post-mission.

Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

Your recon-patrol mission had finally come to an end, an exhausting endeavour among the rubble of No Man's Land with a short detour. Alex, having been successfully extracted from the stadium, was all too keen on retreating to safety and crashing for the evening. You yourself found the invitation for sleep nearly impossible to resist, but your stomach had been growling loudly for majority of the evening.

You'd showered, scrubbed every particle of blood, dirt and sweat from your body, still sore from the day's work. Your arms ached, legs stiff and your back tight; the warm water worked at the knots in your muscles, but a good night's rest was still calling to you. You opted to find something to settle your stomach, before heading to bed.

Elias and Thomas busied themselves in the kitchenette, raiding the cabinets for some form of liquor to wash down the stress of the day. You tried to slink into the room unnoticed, hide your presence under the loud laughter and talking from only a few feet away. Your eyes shifted as you caught a glimpse of Keegan, hands on the table, nodding along with the conversation.

You'd first met Keegan under complicated conditions- working with the Federation to further their cause, you'd only recently come to join the Ghosts and their efforts against the organization.

He'd nearly killed you when you met, filled with unbridled rage as he demanded to know Rorke's whereabouts and what exactly you knew of him. It was a long night of interrogating, shouting, swearing; threats passed between you before it crumbled with your confession. News of your commanding officer's betrayal spurred your decision to leave, whether it meant joining Keegan or being executed.

You were shown mercy, recruited to their task force with the overwhelming knowledge and insight you held of the federation. You were valuable, though still sat on the outskirts of their brotherhood, a stranger.

Your feelings for Keegan were layered between pure hatred and attraction, though they had softened over the last few months while working with him. In fact, to your reluctant dismay, you even had moments of weakness where he was endearing.

It grew from a vague fondness to entertaining the thought of his hands and lips on your body. Even now, noticing the swell of arousal seeping into your lower stomach.

You'd never admit it- you clung to the shadows, kept yourself hidden from the spotlight and cooperated as best you could to avoid ruffling feathers. Making yourself obvious was not in your interest, nor was drawing attention to your conflicting feelings about Keegan.

You were a bit annoyed with yourself for finding Keegan's presence, physical appearance, even his voice from across the room- to be attractive instead of irritating.

You'd be lying if you hadn't imagined what it would be like to kiss him- after a long day, to pull the mask off his face and taste words of affection and praise in that gruff voice that gave you goosebumps. Only late at night would you let the thoughts snowball, otherwise, he was still as far out of arm's reach as he'd always been.

You noticed most of them, including Keegan, were half-way to intoxicated. You tried to wiggle your way in unnoticed, but Merrick drew attention to you as soon as you stepped in the room, calling out your name.

"Join us," He gestured, waving you over to the aged table. "Long day calls for a drink."

"Just getting something to eat. I'll see you in the morning."

You'd managed to find a ration hidden in a scarcely-stocked cabinet, and held it up to show him.

Keegan's eyes followed you in your military-issued T-shirt and sweatpants that you managed to fit into so well. Ghost trails plagued his vision, watching you dig through the cupboards for a utensil of any kind, then straighten again. He took a shot of the cheap liquor being shared, his eyes narrowed at you, when you turned and met his gaze.

"The Rookie's too good for a drink with us," Keegan spoke up, indifference in his tone, but you picked up on a sour note. "Let her go." He shrugged.

You wanted to pretend it didn't sting- the rejection hurt more than you cared to admit, especially given the man it came from. It wasn't like you were trying to weasel your way into their good graces, but some slack would've eased your nerves.

Keegan didn't look away when your eyes met his, instead, he took it as a challenge. A dare, of sorts- who would cower from the exchange first. It wouldn't be him, couldn't be him; not with the alcohol in his bloodstream and sudden onset of intrigue - or something like it- simmering in his gut.

His eyes moved to the outline of your curves. Sometimes, he swore you knew exactly how you made him feel; infuriatingly aroused. It always irked him, the feeling of betrayal, like allowing himself to picture you in any way other than the enemy made him a traitor.

His brain hadn't yet entirely rewired itself to see you as his teammate. He still held contempt for your past secrecy and cooperation with the federation. It was only a coincidence that this contempt manifested itself into a sick irony of attraction, admiration, lust.

He had been impressed by your commitment to your cause, though your new-found loyalty to the Ghosts was much easier to digest. He was still suspicious, of course- good looks and a glimpse of your ass wouldn't change that, but his mind always wandered to what you felt like, sounded like, especially if it were to involve him.

He'd spent more than a few frustrating evenings with his legs spread, head against his pillow, fist wrapped around his cock as he imagined you riding him- something he desperately wanted to stop doing but couldn't. You didn't help, either; always unknowingly adding to the collection of mental images he'd circle back to in the darkness of his bunk.

"Nothing you could say would interest me anyway, Russ." You answered, watching him drop the bottle from his lips.

Elias and Merrick hid their grins, watching Keegan's face drop.

You bowed out, a sliver of pride settling in your chest, and strode away to your bunk to devour your meal. It wasn't worth the extra effort to stay and argue, wasn't worth destroying the already delicate ecosystem between yourself and Keegan. Anything tipping it off balance would be potentially catastrophic for you and the task force.

Your nerves had settled after retreating to safety, though were quickly rattled again as Keegan appeared at your door nearly half an hour later. You set the rations aside, standing to meet him, before he entered of his own accord.

"Do you like being alone, rookie?" He asked, leaning against the door frame. His question came in the form of an accusation, rather than genuine curiosity.

You hated the nickname- your rank was equal to that of Keegan's, though he liked to be poignant about how he viewed you. You weren't yet truly a part of the task force.

"No, I'm just tired."

Your argument was cut short as he neared you, uncharacteristically bold. You'd known him as a quiet man, a bit antisocial when he wasn't working- but his demeanour had changed, his tone cutting your words in half. You suspected the alcohol had something to do with it.

"I've seen you sneaking off. Makes me think you're hiding something."

You quirked a brow up, knowing you'd hurt his ego with your snide remark. You wanted to scoff in his face, but swallowed your attitude for later. As he came closer, you felt a familiar tremble of arousal beginning in your gut- the same one that shouldn't be there.

"Not hiding, just staying out of the way." You insisted.

"I know your history."

"I don't have anything to hide," You said, lifting your head to meet his eyes.

You gulped, hoping he was oblivious to the unsavoury thoughts and feelings you'd been experiencing about him. Surely, he was suspicious because of your past with the federation- still, your heart raced in your chest for all the wrong reasons.

"Seems like you do. And I don't think you've forgotten how it ended last time."

You breathed out, now imagining his large hands punishing you. The bittersweet sting of his palm against your ass while his hips rocked into you- it made you shiver. You squeezed your thighs together, hoping it was more subtle than it was.

He closed in on you, nearly chest-to-chest.

"I have nothing to hide," You repeated, watching his brows furrow.

"Bullshit," He scoffed. "I can see it on your face."

"Sergeant," You warned, feeling flustered and overwhelmed, but now filled with a bit of contempt for his relentlessness. "If you have reason to believe I'm hiding something, say it. Otherwise, I'm going to bed."

He set his jaw, taken aback by your sudden influx of confidence. He was almost confused, the liquor amplifying every emotion he was feeling, including the strange sensation in his gut that yearned to touch you, feel your lips just once even if never again.

"You're trouble, rookie. I just know it." He shook his head.

"Maybe," You said into the air, locking eyes as he licked his lips. "Or are you just looking for it?" It wasn't meant to be laced with a sultry tone, or sound so deviously sexual, but it hit Keegan's ears and caused a rush of blood to his groin.

He shook his head again, trying to lose the wild thoughts that snuck up on him. He knew you were trouble- maybe not a traitor, but a damn tease. His cock was already pushing against his jeans just watching the furrow of your brows and small pout you put on. Everything about you was inviting- your eyes, your lips, your smell.

"I don't need to look, I know it when I see it."

"You're just looking for a reason to get rid of me, Russ."

"I'm looking for you to be honest," He growled. "You've got something you're not sharing with the rest of us."

"I'm entitled to my privacy."

"Not with your past offences."

"Are you always an asshole to your teammates, or do you save it for me?"

"You'd know if I were being an asshole."

"I'd hate to be around when that happens."

"I think you can handle more than you let on, Rookie."

"If my position on this task force is too much for you to handle-"

His hand came up to rest beside your head, his body moving closer yours, leaving barely an inch between you. It became clear when his next words passed his lips, what exactly his intentions were.

"I can handle you, rookie," He said; quiet, but filled with the deep husk of his voice in your ear. "I promise you that."

Your knees nearly melted, dropping an inch as you met his gaze. Your hands flattened against the wall, your stomach tying itself in knots.

A surge of arousal awakened your confidence once more- fairly certain that his interrogating was not the result of suspicion, but lust. You straightened your legs, finding his eyes as you stood up.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Sergeant. I'd hate to be disappointed." You pursed your lips, afraid that you'd gone too far, that he hadn't meant what he'd said the way you perceived it.

But he cracked a smile- a twitch of his lip that made you exhale harshly. He liked a challenge. Didn't back down from dangerous or difficult conditions- he was notorious for his resiliency. You weren't going to be an exception, not when he wanted you so badly.

The air stood still for a moment- the two of you silently reading the unspoken words settled in your eyes. It was tense- undeniably rigid, heat passing between your bodies.

Without another moment passing, he lifted his hand to the back of your neck, rough callouses scraping your skin as he pulled you closer. His lips engulfed yours so quickly, it shocked you, caused your teeth to clash together and your brain to pause for a moment while you registered the chain of events.

Whether passion or frustration, he opened his mouth, forcing yourself to do the same, and slid his tongue against yours.

Your small squeaks and quick breaths turned to quiet moans as his other hand snaked around your waist, pulling your groin flush with his. You could feel the thick length of his cock pressing against your abdomen, and a flutter of excitement tickled your insides.

Your hands lifted to his shoulders, wrapping around to feel the hair on the nape of his neck, pulling him closer into you, pressing your breasts against his chest.

"Shit," He cussed, low and quiet. He prompted you to jump up into his arms, his hands gripping your ass as he held you close to his groin.

You clung to his waist, reconnecting your lips as he travelled slowly to the small bed against the wall. With each step, your lips and teeth knocked against each other, tongues sliding together, hands tangled in his short hair.

He dropped you down, eyes locked on yours like a predator about to devour his prey. He used his hand to push the waist band of your sweatpants down, finding you bare beneath them. In response, he groaned.

"Damn, you infuriate me," He breathed.

"Shut up," You replied.

You pressed your lips against his again as his fingers crept toward your pussy, two of them beginning to rub circles over your clit, in turn causing your back to arch off the mattress. He watched with parted lips, so focused on your expression of pleasure he nearly forgot about the aching in his pants.

He listened to your sweet moans of desperation, watched your lips part as you breathed deeply, moaned quietly. Your arms had tangled themselves around his shoulders, holding onto him tightly as he slowly forced his fingers inside you.

His head dropped, eyes wandering to your breasts, hard nipples pressing against your T-shirt, and the view of his fingers inside your wet cunt as he yanked your sweats off.

He could hardly believe how soft you were- tight around his fingers and almost moulding around them. He flicked them inside you, massaging the spongy dome that made you clench around him, while his thumb returned to your clit.

He took a deep breath in, resisting the urge to slide inside you without anymore delay.

"You are trouble," He breathed, his head dipping down to your ear. "Were you thinkin' about me before I came in here?"

You opened your eyes to find his, your mouth opening and closing as you tried to find the words to respond. Haphazard strokes over your clit were already helping lead you closer to orgasm, and his fingers filling you only pushed you over the edge.

"I-" You gulped, pausing to catch your breath. "I was thinking about you," You answered. It was honest, vague- there were too many things you'd thought about.

"Thinkin' about the guy you hate making you cum?" He sped up his pace, earning a tortured squeak from your lips.

"Asshole," You breathed.

"Give it up, baby. I know you wanna cum."

You wanted to be irritated, but his fingers were still inside you and he showed no signs of relenting until you climaxed, which meant there was no focusing on anything other than the building suspense in your gut.

It unraveled quickly, especially with his confession to paint a vivid picture in your mind. Your pussy convulsed around his fingers, and his lips found yours amongst your open-mouthed moans.

You were muffled by his lips, whimpering quietly into him when he removed his fingers and undid his belt in one fell swoop. He had hardly dropped his pants off his hips before he was pulling your shirt over your head and lavishing your breasts with hot kisses.

Your breathing increased, chest heaving as he savoured the taste of your skin, ran his warm tongue over your nipples. At the same time, he guided his cock to the heat of your pussy, gently probing before sliding deep into your soft, silky depths.

He groaned harshly, matching a soft moan that bubbled up from your throat as you felt his cock fill you. Your chest flooded with warmth, abdomen clenching as he reached your cervix and pulled back.

He cursed, gathering your hands in one of his and pinning them above your head.

"You feel just as good as you look," He grumbled, his hips moving slowly.

Your nostrils flared as you tried to regain some semblance of control, widening your legs to allow his hips to become flush with yours. Your back arched again, unintentionally wrenching against your flesh restraints before settling beneath him.

"Keegan," You whimpered, meeting his gaze as his pace began to pick up.

His breaths of exertion fanned your face, disappearing until he was beside your ear and you could hear every moan and groan that left his lips.

His cock continued to penetrate your walls, shifting your hips to angle it in a way that made your teeth clench. His cock rubbed against your clit, simultaneously stimulating your G-spot.

Your eyes squeezed shut, hands flexing open and closed while he met your hips with aggressive thrusts. Your breasts were pressed against his chest, quiet moans escaping between deep breaths.

"You're hard to resist, you know that?" He grunted.

You turned your head, watching him as he watched you. His hand released yours, and you took the opportunity to force him beside you, sliding over his lap as he lay back.

His brows lifted in shock, lying back as he helped guide you over his lap.

"It doesn't have to be that way," You breathed, repositioning yourself until you were comfortable. "Stop the interrogating, and I'm willing to surrender- anytime."

You gently sat down, his hand helping to guide his cock back inside you with a short grunt.

He grinned softly, until you moved your hips forward and rode his lap. His hands flew to your hips, grabbing at your flesh. His palm left a quick smack against your ass.

"Deal," He nodded. "Just don't stop now."

You continued, grinding your hips against him, thrusting his cock inside you. Your hands planted themselves on his chest, your hips moving at a pace that began to cause a build up of tension in your stomach.

His fingers began to rub circles over your clit again, causing a shudder to run through you before you continued.

"Shit-" He cursed, feeling you pulse around him. "Shit baby, that's it."

You exhaled, throwing your head back and watching the ceiling as you tried to avoid cumming, to avoid giving him the satisfaction of making you orgasm twice; but your stomach twisted with pleasure.

Your fingers dug into his skin, your head falling as your orgasm descended and you froze. Aside from your hips grinding sloppily, your lips were agape, breath stopped.

Keegan continued, gently thrusting up into you as he neared his own orgasm, watching your eyes meet his with desperation, pupils blown from the adrenaline and oxytocin in your veins. His hands moulded to your hips, gliding around your waist and thighs until he reached your hands on his chest.

"I'm gonna cum, baby," He moaned, squeezing your hands before letting go.

You didn't relent, continuing to ride his cock until he went rigid. His fingers probed your flesh, grabbing harshly as he released inside you and his hips stuttered. He shivered, blinked a few times before he regained sentience and met your gaze.

"You're trouble," He grinned, exhaling harshly. "But I won't hold it against you."

#keegan russ x reader #cod ghosts #keegan p russ smut #Keegan p Russ #cod #call of duty keegan #call of duty #strlingsavwrites

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daydreaming-nerd · 2 months

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The Bonds That Break Us (Rhysand x Female! Reader) Part 3

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Final Part

Request: "Would you do a Rhysand x fem!reader series? Maybe fem!reader is Rhysand's mate and Tamlin's sister? So secret love?"

AN: thank you so much for all the feedback! I am loving hearing your guys thoughts and I'm having so much fun with this

Summary: It was almost as if the cauldron liked to play games, as if it had sensed years of boredom and predictability and begged to be entertained. Its method of absolving its melancholy? Mate the High Lord of the Night Court to the younger sister of the High Lord of Spring.

Warnings (so far): SMUT (consensual), oral (female receiving), mentions of SA.

Word count: 2730

(all photos are from pinterest)

The following day was another quiet day, and though Rhysand had stayed up with me all night like he promised, I didn’t hear from him in the morning. I avoided my brother at all costs and Lucien as well and spent the morning and afternoon getting ready for the ball at the Autumn Court that would be taking place tonight. I was sure to pick my dress carefully, opting for purple again.

I used to not care for balls, most of the time I would show up and not have anyone to see save for Viviane and Kallias who always had each other to dance with. This of course left me to dance with Lucien or not dance at all. I always left bored and feeling more lonely than I had been before I got there.

I knew tonight would be different not just because of Rhys, but because of Eris. My brother has made it very clear at breakfast that I was to dance and charm Eris all night. The thought made my stomach churn and my eyes water, but I knew better than to disobey.

From the second I walked into the ballroom I could feel Rhysand. The mass of people swirling and dancing around under the gargantuan chandelier made it near impossible for me to find him. I nearly reached out with the bond before my brother grabbed my arm harshly.

“Remember sister, you are to charm Eris whatever means necessary,” he growled in my ear so only I could hear.

“I will, now I’m going to find Viviane.” I glared and sauntered off to do just that.

The ballroom was impossibly packed but finding Viviane’s ice white hair among the crowd was easier than I thought it would be.

“Well you two look amazing,” I beam walking over to where her and Kallias are being wall flowers. Her dress looks like it was made entirely out of frost, and cascades down her body like it was made for her, knowing how Kallias likes to dote on her it probably was.

“Me? Look at you! Purple is your color,” she smiles.

“So, are there any eligible bachelors for me to romance tonight?” I laugh taking her arm and walking around the perimeter of the ballroom with her and Kallias.

“No one worthy of note, but you know how picky I am when selecting a suitable man for you,” she giggles.

“That’s true, you’re a worse critic than I am,” I smile. We promenade around the dancefloor until we run into one of Viviane’s friends and she stops to talk. I take it as my opportunity to glance around the room looking for a particular High Lord and finally I find him.

He’s at the edge of the room wearing black as usual, conversing easily with two Illyrians. Their wings take up most of the space around them. The one with longer hair is obviously drunk as he lets out a laugh that reverberates throughout the room, the one with the shorter hair, swathed in shadows, simply shakes his head and smiles. Rhysand has yet to see me and to draw his attention I give the bond a tug, the first time I’ve ever done it.

His head snaps up in my direction and I see the corner of his mouth curl.

By the cauldron, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, my mate.

“Why thank you my lord, I seemed to remember you had a certain affinity for the color violet,” I muse back to him and I swear from this distance I can see his eyes light up.

The Illyrians next to him turn their heads to look at me, the one with the long hair gives me a knowing smirk and I quickly turn my head back to the conversation Viviane is having.

I hear Rhys chuckle in my head, They don’t bite darling. Well Cassian might, but only if you ask him to. He muses over the bond.

“An interesting proposal, I’ll keep it in mind,” I say back trying to hide my smile.

You little minx.

Before I can say anything back I feel a hand on my back, I turn to find Eris there, a hopeful look in his eye. He takes my hand and kisses it in greeting.

“Y/n, what a pleasure it is to have you in our court.” he smiles.

“Of course, my brother and I were very honored to receive an invitation,” I say, trying to sound as chipper as possible.

“You were the first invite we sent, by now I’m sure your brother has told you of my feelings towards you,” he smirks.

“He has brought them to my attention, and I must say I’m flattered,” I smile.

“Might I have this dance?” he asks, my eyes flit to Rhysand for half a second, but it’s long enough that I can see the rage simmering in those violet eyes.

“Of course,” I say, taking Eris’ hand and allowing him to lead me to the dancefloor. His hand spreads over my waist almost obsessively as we waltz around the room.

“You really are quite the sight to behold y/n, I can see why your brother keeps you locked up in the Spring Court,” Eris praises me.

“I regret that he does so, if I had been allowed out more I would’ve found out much sooner how amazing of a dancer you are,” I smile flirtatiously.

“Among one of my many talents my dear, though you’ll find out soon enough about those,” he whispers in my ear.

We dance on and on swirling about the room to the music. From the corner of my eye I can see Tamilin and Beron watching the two of us and for the first time in a long time Tamlin almost looks happy. However it’s not long until I see his eyes catch on to a beautiful brunette that seems to grab all his attention. My skin starts to buzz again and it isn’t long until a large hand claps Eris on the shoulder.

“Mind if I cut in?” Rhysand asks Eris smoothly. His words say one thing but his eyes look at Eris like he would cut off his hands or other important body parts if he were to say no.

“Of course,” Eris says, passing me off to Rhysand and taking his leave.

“You’re going to get me in trouble,” I snap at him.

“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t stand to watch another minute of that,” he says cooly.

“Someones jealous,” I muse.

“Very,” Rhysand confesses with a small smile.

As we sweep across the dancefloor, the feeling of his hand on my waist is all too familiar and I can’t help but remember the last time it was there. I look to the side to find the two Illyrains standing at the edge of the ballroom watching us.

“Who did you bring with you tonight?” I ask Rhys.

“My most trusted friends and members of my court, Cassian and Azriel. Azriel is my spymaster and Cassian is the general of my armies.” he explains. “I grew up with them, they are like brothers to me.”

“Do they know?” I inquire further.

“That we’re mates? Yes. I think Cassain would start a war for you already,” he chuckles.

“Interesting, I would’ve thought they’d be upset,” I say, turning my head back towards Rhys.

“You are not my court’s enemy, your brother is. You aren’t damned by association, and besides they are my brothers, they want me to be happy.” Rhys explains further.

“It sounds like you have quite the amazing family,” I acknowledge and he picks up on the longing in my phrase right away. “I doubt I’ll be treated the same here in the Autumn Court.”

“Why would it matter how the Autumn Court treats you?” he questions.

“Because I’m marrying Eris,” I sigh, keeping my head down, unable to meet the sadness I know resides in his eyes now.

“What?” he growls and for the first time since I’ve known him I’m afraid of him.

“My brother has decided to marry me off to Eris for political gain,” I explain further.

Rhys takes my hand and drags me off the dancefloor, at this point people are so drunk they don’t even notice. He leads me to a room off the ballroom and closes the door. I take a moment to look around at the dimly lit study, filled with old books and mahogany furniture. I lean against the desk and look at Rhys.

“You’re not going to marry Eris,” he fumes.

“You say that like I have the option to say no,” I retort as he closes in further.

“If you marry Eris he will destroy you from the inside out, you will become nothing but a breeding vessel to give him sons.” he tells me.

“I’m going to be the same thing to any Lord my brother marries me to,” I sneer at him.

“That’s not true,” Rhysand shakes his head.

“Oh really?” I scoff.

“It wouldn’t be that way with me. You would be my wife, and my High Lady as well as my mate. You wouldn’t have to be sexually assaulted in your own home, or barricade yourself in your room to be safe! You would have rights and freedom and you would have Cassian and Azriel and a family that loves you!” he yells passionately, getting closer to me. “And you would have me, and I would love you too.” he confesses quieter.

A tear slips from my eye as I take in all that he’s said. He looks at me from just an arms length away, waiting for me to say something back.

“Rhysand I can’t-” I start to say.

“Don’t you dare say that you can’t,” he says, stepping forward and caging me into the desk, his mouth dangerously close to my own. “If you were mine there’s not a person in this world that would dare to touch you. You know that.”

I feel a hand go to my waist and he uses the other to wipe the tears from my eye. A different kind of tension fills the room as his breath fans my face leaving kisses where my tears once were.

“Rhys please,” I rasp out lightly pushing him away. His hands on my waist tighten.

“Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want me to kiss you right now y/n,” he says tilting my chin up to meet his gaze. He’s right, I do want him to kiss me but I can’t even form the words to ask him that. “I thought so,” he says and then his lips are on mine.

I taste all of him and need all of him. He pulls me so close to him I think I might melt into his skin. I throw my hands around his neck like he might be ripped away from me at any given moment. I feel his hands leave my waist and fly to the desk behind me. The next thing I hear is the clattering of glass, books and paper. He lifts me up and places me on the desk positioning his frame between my legs.

“Rhys,” I moan as his lips find my neck.

“I love it when you say my name,” he groans into the kiss, using his body to press my back into the desk and anywhere that isn’t concealed by my dress gets goosebumps from the cold surface. “I need to taste you,” his hands travel down my body and he sinks to his kneels before me, never breaking eye contact.

“What are you doing?” I ask earnestly.

“Have you ever had a man touch you here?” he questions back, his hand ghosting over my clothed core, my breath hitches.

“N-no,” I squeak. He lifts up the many layers of my skirt and bunches them around my waist.

“And have you ever touched yourself here?” he further inquiries rubbing a hand over my undergarments.

I’m too embarrassed to speak, I just give him a shallow nod.

“Probably while you’re reading all those dirty books right y/n darling?” he smirks loving how the pink tints my cheeks. “And do you want me to touch you here?”

I give him another shallow nod.

“I’m gonna need to hear words darling,” he persists.

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly I spit out, “Yes.”

“Yes what?” he taunts me.

“Yes I want you to touch me there,” I whine.

He lets loose a feral grin before I feel him gently pull down my undergarments, taking his time to let his fingertips brush down the expanse of both my legs while he does it. He pulls then off over my heels and discards them. I watch him intently as he lowers his mouth to me and licks a long stripe clean up my pussy flicking my clit at the very top. My back arches off the desk and I let out a moan.

“Shhh darling, we can’t have other people knowing what sinful things you’re allowing me to do to you right now. Especially poor Eris, he’ll never get to hear you moan like this for as long as he lives,” Rhys smirks before disappearing under my dress again to feast on me.

My back arches again and my hand flies over my mouth to cover my own moan. I feel Rhysand bring one of his hands up to grasp my free one. A touch so simple, yet so intimate. His tongue swirls hungrily over my clit and it takes everything in me not to scream. I squeeze his hand tighter and he chuckles, sending a vibration through my pussy.

You taste amazing, like you were made for me. He says into my mind.

I squeeze his hand harder at his word. I had spent most of my life reading books about this, sex and romance. I assumed all the women writing them were exaggerating how good it could be. In the spring court it was always seen as a pleasure for the male, not the female. But the way Rhys is using his tongue on me right now, has me seeing stars which I know is no coincidence. His mouth closes around my clit suckling it.

“Rhys,” I breathe out.

Fuck darling. I lied, I like it when you say my name, I love it when you moan it.

“Rhys I’m gonna,” I cry trying to keep quiet.

Cum mate. I want you to cum all over my face. He growls into my mind.

It was almost as if he compelled me to. My back arches off the desk for the final time and I use my hand to stifle any sound that comes out of my mouth. He works me through my orgasm and when my body stops shaking he places one final kiss over my clit. His head pops up from under my skirts, his eyes shown with satisfaction as he licks the remnants of my arousal off his lips.

I was on him before he could even speak, pulling him by his neck and kissing him hard. I fumble for the strings on his pants and he grabs my wrist to stop me.

“No, not tonight,” he states. I immediately feel disappointment, the sedition I felt earlier had long left me the second that man licked his lips.

“Rhys please,” I whine.

“As much as it makes my cock twitch to hear you beg for me, I won’t let the first time I fuck you be on Beron Vanserra’s desk.” he chuckles, and leans in close to my ear. “Because when I’m inside you for the first time my mate I want to hear every strangled cry and moan I pull from your body. And when I cum inside you for the first time I want to hear you scream my name so loud all of Prythian knows just who’s mate you are. Is that clear?”

Butterflies hit my stomach and all I can do is nod slowly every coherent thought in my brain long gone. All I can think of is how badly I want him to make good on his promise.

“Good girl, now let's get your panties back on before a certain High Lord of Spring starts to miss you,” he smiles.

Taglist: Taglist: @heyyitsnat21 , @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson , @randomperson1234sblog , @local-fangirl09 , @bleh-81 , @annaaaaa88 , @cauldronboilmetakemetovelaris

#rhysand #rhys acotar #rhysand x reader #rhysand fluff #rhysand angst #rhysand x reader smut #rhysand smut #rhysand x y/n #rhysand x you

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delirious-donna · 9 months

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Atta Girl [Toji Fushiguro]

Toji has a debt to collect and you just happen to be along for the ride as his new partner. He has no need for a partner, not unless you plan on putting that smartass mouth to better use?

pairing: Toji Fushiguro x female reader

warnings: face fucking, mean Toji, light asphyxiation, rough blowjob, light degradation, mentions of blood on clothes, implied violence (not detailed and reader is not harmed in any way), cum swallowing, if this looks familiar it's a touched up version of something I wrote last year!

Masterlist

You didn’t think you could possibly miss the bickering of earlier, the yells of indignation at your mere presence, but it was far more preferable to the heavy silence of right now. Oppressive and sinister, even your measured breathing sounded deafening to your ears.

Toji Fushiguro regarded you with the dead eyes of a merciless killer, devoid of emotion and not even a smirk present on his scarred lips, it was terrifying.

Of course, you had been unlucky enough to be partnered with the one man famed for being a lone wolf. A man that had grumbled and downright growled at you like an animal whilst you had both sat idling in the car. His chin rested against his broad palm, elbow braced on the sill of the door and he refused to meet your eye, not that you were trying particularly hard.

“Who the fuck said I needed any help? Stupid motherfuckers sending me some shitty piece of ass as backup… the fuck I need backup for?”

You hadn’t known which part to be more offended by; the insinuation that you couldn’t hold your own or the comment about you being a piece of ass. Pointing out that two were better than one had fallen on deaf ears, riling you to the point that insults were hurled like bladed weapons between the two of you.

With the air conditioning cranked to the max in a poor attempt to lower the temperature from your heated exchange, you swept your gaze over the infamous debt collector. Known for never losing a mark, always retrieving the goods and often in the most gruesome of ways, it was impossible to deny that he was hot. You never could hide your feelings and even as fucking pissed as you were at him, it was still been more than evident that you were interested.

Toji was exactly your type, and that was the biggest problem because you had a thing for assholes. The type of man that would only ever call you things like “sweetheart” or “darling” for the sole purpose of avoiding the possibility of uttering the wrong name or worse, forgetting it altogether.

Men that wanted one thing, and it wasn’t like you were some innocent flower, but it’d be nice to be held once in a while after having your cunt split open and your make-up ruined by the steady flow of tears.

A basic white tee stretched taut across his upper torso and it only highlighted how strong Toji was, the cotton did very little to hide the definition of his chest and the cut of his strong abdominals. What might it be like to have the chance to ride those tawny abs? Thick veins ran the length of his forearms, curving over the bulge of his biceps and his hands looked like they could crush a windpipe with little effort.

Why did he have to be so fucking attractive? Why were you thinking with your pussy and not your brain? The man that you had known for all of five minutes had insulted you more times than you could draw breath, yet here you were, wet and horny.

Perhaps this was the reason your judgement lapsed. Too fogged by lust and decadent fantasies to see the ambush, and it had almost cost you your life. A job that had meant to be a cakewalk turned into a shoot out and honestly, it would have been your own fault if the worst had happened.

You were thankful that Toji had been there, that he had even bothered to shield you from the brunt of the attack and struck back with such deadly precision and fervour that you would swear he had otherworldly powers.

A choked thank you caught fast in your throat, wary of how icy his expression was whilst you took in the white tee that was now caked in drying blood and worse. A streak of crimson ran the length of his face and you wondered if he had been hurt and you simply hadn’t noticed in the carnage of the moment.

You reached out to cup his face, an instinct to care for him burning you alive but he caught your wrist before you could touch his cheek. Tough callouses rubbed at your soft skin, the roughened texture a stark contrast and one you enjoyed more than you were willing to admit.

“What the hell are ya playing at?” he yelled, forcing a meek squeak from your mouth as you jerked back from being grabbed and how angry he sounded at you.

“You’re hurt. I was…” your voice trailed away under the scrutiny of his cold, penetrating stare. A vein throbbed in the side of his thick neck and you watched it, unable to maintain eye contact with him. You were wilting faster than a flower caught in a heatwave.

“Where’s your shitty attitude gone, huh? Lost your bark now that I had to save your sorry ass? Told ya I didn’t need a goddamn partner. Nothing but fuckin’ trouble.”

Toji tossed your captured hand back into your lap, ripping down the sun visor to stare at his bloody reflection in the mirror with a heavy frown. You watched him covertly, or so you hoped. It was wrong to continue finding him sexy, especially dripping in blood but it only fed that primitive image you liked so very much. It suited him to look so dangerous and capable of violence at the drop of a hat. It kept you on your toes, never daring to find his presence comforting for fear that would be the moment he finally struck.

“I know ya like whatcha see, princess, keep staring and imma do something ‘bout it,” Toji threatened, fixing his gaze on you through the reflective surface of the mirror.

You squirmed. You blushed. You felt downright stupid. Embarrassment burned in your chest, turned you petulant once more and your sassy tongue returned with a bow.

“Yeah right. Like I’m interested in a slick motherfucker that has no respect for anyone. I’d rather suck on a cactus!”

Toji was a hair’s breadth away from snapping. There you went running that fucking mouth again. The mouth that had done nothing but snark since he had picked you up earlier that morning. It didn’t matter that it was an attractive mouth, plump lips that would look even better kiss swollen and a tongue that he would like to tangle with. None of that mattered when you couldn’t hold your own just like he had predicted.

Venom laced his every movement, acid burning in his veins as he raked your body without a care in the world for masking his action. You were pretty, a firecracker personified and he wanted to show you how he shut up little girls like you.

He had wanted to fuck the brat out of you since the moment he had laid eyes upon you. He was still pissed at being told he had to have a partner on this job but perhaps taking you would be the reward for swallowing that bitter pill.

Having to actively protect someone other than himself, and with no monetary reimbursement on top of it, he was beyond pissed and you’d know about it soon enough.

Toji moved faster than you could possibly comprehend in your tiny mind, a bloodied hand wrapping around the slender column of your throat. Thick fingers squeezed down, your supply of air drastically reduced until you are gasping and choking.

His free hand worked at his belt, never taking his penetrating stare away from your flustered face. Toji smirked in the knowledge that he was indeed correct, you were a slut for this kind of rough treatment. Cheeks warm, eyes glossy and rather than clawing at his hand for freedom, you were clinging to him with a heaving chest. Every inhale a struggle that parted your lips further and further.

“Not so fucking chatty now, are ya? I’ve got an even better idea of how to keep that mouth from spouting venom,” he hissed at you.

Your eyes grew impossibly wide as Toji’s girthy beast of a cock slapped against his abs, shirt pushed up whilst he worked on freeing himself. The tip was a deep angry scarlet, weeping thick pearls of silvery precum. A prominent mushroom head with a ridge that made your mouth salivate and twin stark veins running the length of the underside of his shaft.

He pumped it almost lazily whilst his hold on your throat relaxed, his hand moving to the back of your head and you found that you were inching closer and closer to his pussy ruining dick. The mere thought of that monster forcing your walls apart was enough for a slutty moan to roll past your lips, much to his amusement.

“That’s better. Knew ya were a filthy little thing, now then. Suck it good and I’ll consider fucking ya like you want.”

There was no second given to contemplate his request, not a chance at being able to brace yourself for what was to come. Your lips barely parted in time for his sticky tip to slip past.

Groaning at the heavy, musky taste of his skin and mingling arousal, you lapped at him like an eager little kitten. His grip shifted to trap your hair around his fist, giving an experimental tug that lifted you momentarily and caused you to whine in protest. Toji’s dark laughter rumbled through his chest, pushing you back down and forcing more of his cock between your lips.

Toji let his head fall back for a moment, the relief of your wet and wanton mouth cooling the very worst of his fiery temper. You really were very cute, sucking on his tip like it’s the first cock you’ve ever sucked and he couldn’t help himself from lifting his hips to push further into your mouth.

Your squirming lower half crouched on the passenger seat wiggled from side to side and he knew exactly what was on your mind, but first, you’d have to earn it. There was never a chance of reward without hard work.

Reclining his seat, Toji hummed at the sensation of your tongue exploring and learning his length. Your tongue flattened wide to run up and down his length before switching to a speared point to flick into the weeping slit and lave around the ridge of his cockhead.

You’re good, almost too good. He groans deep in his throat when your cheeks suction further and those wide eyes blink up into his face. You’d be fucking smiling if you could and that only made him grit his teeth in irritation, grinding down on his molars.

“Think you're such a clever cocktease, dontcha? This ain't your first cock but I bet it's the first that'll ruin ya like ya really want.”

With those words, Toji tightened his grip around your hair. His free hand pinched into your cheeks to halt the rhythmic bobbing of your head. Terrified eyes snapped to his face and he only smiles, that cold deadly mask back in place and the stretch of his scarred lips turns your blood icy.

His hips snapped upward, fucking into your mouth and forcing his fat cock deep into your throat to bully past the soft tissue at the back of your mouth. You gag around him, not a hint of oxygen getting past the blockage that is his dick. Air rushes through your nose and for a second you worried he’d pinch it shut, but it doesn't come.

Falling back with a roll of his head along his shoulders, those sinfully dark eyes watched the thick viscous strands of saliva and arousal drip from your mouth with nothing but amusement on his face. There is only a second of reprieve to let you cough and swallow down air desperately before Toji plunged back into you. Spit bubbled at the corners of your lips, drooling slowly towards your chin and he wiped a finger through the mess to press into his mouth with a hum of satisfaction.

His pace was punishing and you knew it would be the same if he were fucking your drooling cunt. Every stroke deepens until your nose is pressed right against his stomach, the muscles contracting wildly and the coarse hairs of his pelvis scratched at your face. He held you there and you clawed at his thick muscular thighs, begging for release but also knowing that he was close to release.

With cock twitching, a groan of pleasure sounded from his chest and the first waves of his sticky cum shot down your abused throat. Toji drew his hips back with a hiss, slapping his sensitive cock atop your pink tongue and painting it white. His bloodied hand pumped his shaft, milking it clean of everything he had whilst you could only blink through heavy tears and try not to swallow it before he finished.

Toji admired the sea of cum upon your tongue, your flushed cheeks and tears sliding down along with ruined mascara. He liked you just like this, preferred you silent with his load in your mouth. Maybe he would keep you, you’d be a real treat to break completely.

“Atta girl, swallow it all and c’mere. I’ve got plans for you…”

#delirious writes #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut

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daisies-daydreams · 2 months

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Just One More (Hiromi Higuruma x F!Reader Drabble)

Pairing: Hiromi Higuruma x F!Reader Category: Smut Warnings: Not really proofread, Breeding Kink, Referenced Multiple Orgasms, Creampies, Unprotected P in V Sex (You Know the Drill), Swearing, Dirty Talk, Lactation Kink Word Count: 1.4k+ Summary: You let Hiromi use you to destress after a long day. A/N: I have no words 😳

Hiromi walked in through the front door - his footsteps thudding against the hardwood floor as he released a long, heavy sigh. Dark bags rested beneath his eyes as he eagerly loosened his tie. The lawyer ran his large hand through his messy, black hair.

He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take the raw disappointment of yet another guilty verdict. All the hours, all the effort…when would it finally be worth it?

“Hiro!” you suddenly squealed. The dark-haired man opened his eyes, a soft smile crossing his exhausted features as you bounded over like an excited puppy. Hiromi chuckled as you nuzzled your face into his chest and wrapped your arms around him. He kissed the top of your head as the two of you simply stood in the genkan, your bodies snugly pressed against one another as he shoved his sharp nose into your hair.

“Did you use my shampoo?” he asked with a quirked brow. You adorably bit your bottom lip as you wriggled in his touch.

“I…I just missed you so much,” you frowned as you traced your fingers along his jaw before cupping his cheek. Hiromi’s breath hitched; your light touch like fire dancing across his skin. “Missed the way you’d smile when I kissed you in the morning,” you said as you reached up on your tip-toes and pecked his lips. Hiromi blinked as his chest grew tight, his hands falling on your perfect waist. He was completely mesmerized by the way you swayed your hips as you parted your lips.

“The scent of your shampoo and body wash on our sheets,” you continued as you nimbly worked his tie free from its knot. He chuckled as you kept it slung behind his neck and tugged on it, drawing his head closer to you. His eyes lit up as you pecked along his jaw, your hands now slowly rubbing up and down his crisp, white button-up.

“The way you’d fuck me into the mattress until the bed sounded like it’d break,” you purred into his ear. Hiromi’s brows immediately shot up as his lips quirked into a wry grin. You gasped as he backed you against the wall, his larger frame looming over you as he swallowed thickly.

“You want my cock, baby?” he rumbled lowly while letting his palms fall on your breasts. Hiromi’s cock twitched beneath his dark slacks as you mewled while he tenderly squeezed your sensitive mounds. His smirk grew as he massaged your tits, his heartbeat racing as he brushed his lips over the shell of your ear. “Want me to stuff this pretty little pussy with my cum after I pound it raw?” the dark-haired man rumbled before nibbling in your earlobe. He flashed a satisfied smile when you moaned and arched into his touch.

“F-Fuck yes, Hiromi,” you whined.

+++

Hiromi clenched his jaw as he squeezed your hips in his massive palms. His eyes were locked on the way your greedy, slick cunt swallowed his cock whole with every quick snap of his hips.

“Fuck baby, k-keep squeezing me like that,” he groaned as your walls sucked him in a vice. You wailed beneath him, your puffy nipples rubbing against his chest as your legs wrapped around his sharp waist. “H-Hiro! It’s so much!” your voice cracked as overstimulation washed over your body. Hiromi chuckled as he lapped up the tears that spilled down your burning cheeks.

“I know, baby. You’ve done so well for me so far,” he praised as he snapped his hips, driving his fat, girthy cock impossibly deeper inside your weeping hole. “Just. One. More…please,” he panted between thrusts. You gazed into his eyes and audibly swallowed. You gave a quick nod as your breasts bounced with the push and pull of his hips.

You gasped when he suddenly hooked his hands behind your knees and folded you in half, his dick still lodged deep inside your raw cunny as he moaned.

“Fuck!” you screamed as Hiromi mercilessly pounded into your heavenly pussy. A lewd concoction of your combined juices leaked out of your stretched out entrance, your sheets completly soaked with sweat, cum and spit.

Hiromi sucked in a sharp breath as he felt his heavy, potent balls tighten while they wetly slapped against your asshole.

“I’m gonna fill this pretty pussy up. Make sure it’s nice and full of my cum,” your lover rumbled as he gazed into your eyes deeply. Your breathing grew ragged with every thrust he gave, your pussy growing tighter and tighter as soft, pretty moans fell past your swollen lips.

“P-Please fill me, Hiro. Wanna have your babies,” you hiccuped. His thrusts faltered at your words as something primal was lit deep inside his belly and burned through his entire being. He blinked a few times as he set his pace again while wearing a gentle smirk.

“You want to have my babies, hm?” he lilted while rubbing his dark patch of hair against your swollen clit. You gasped and arched your spine as his hips slapped against your ass, his cock gliding along your messy, gummy walls as he grunted. “Want to get all round and swollen with my children?” Hiromi groaned possessively as he squeezed the back of your knees.

“Yes!” you cried as the wooden bed frame creaked beneath his feral thrusts. Hiromi’s cock twitched as he thought about your tits being so swollen and full of fresh milk - how it would make you so sore that he had no other choice but to suckle on them himself. His mouth watered as he felt himself balance on the edge of his release.

Hiromi rested his sweaty forehead against yours as his hot breath fell over your face.

“Come on baby: cum with me,” he said with a deep, guttural groan. His thrusts came to a halt when he felt your soft walls clench his cock in an intoxicating vice. Hiromi’s jaw went slack as his eyes rolled back. “(Y-Y/N),” he moaned as his cock swelled and pulsed inside your delicious heat, pumping thick loads of his seed against the swollen, gummy plug to your womb.

You whimpered as he shallowly thrusted into you as he violently came, painting your walls stark white as he groaned. Hiromi sighed heavily before opening his eyes, the sight before him too precious: you folded in half and stuffed to the brim with his softening cock.

You mewled as your lover kissed your forehead, his lips curved into a satisfied grin.

“You did so well for me, baby,” Hiromi murmured as he peppered your glowing face with kisses. He cooed while slowly pulling out of your tight cunt, his cock slipping out with a slick “pop”. He sucked in a sharp breath when he saw a river of his cum gush out of your puckering hole.

You moaned as he slowly swiped his fingertips over your lower lips and shoved his seed back inside. He smiled as he wiped his thumb over your entrance before coming to your side. He chuckled softly as you snuggled up to him, draping one of his toned arms over your smaller form.

Hiromi sighed peacefully as he brushed his thick fingers through your hair.

“Hiro?” you piped up. He hummed in reply as his heartbeat began to steady. Hiromi raised his brows when you wiggled in his grasp. “Do you…do you really want to have kids?” you asked in a timid voice. Your love’s chest tightened as he sucked in a sharp breath. His fingers ceased halfway through your locks as he swallowed thickly.

“Yes,” he simply replied. Despite all the atrocities and injustices he’s seen in the world, he couldn’t help but give into a deep, primal desire that sprouted from his chest like a vine. “Do you?” he asked with a hint of hesitation in his voice. You slowly turned in his arms, your eyes soft and smile gentle as you brushed your fingers down his face.

“I do,” you beamed. Hiromi’s heart completely melted as he gazed into your eyes. You squealed and laughed as he rolled you on top of him, his strong arms caging you against his rugged body as he kissed your lips. “Hiro!” you giggled - a sound that always soothed the dull ache that lingered inside his chest. Hiromi smiled as he slowly pulled back, admiring the precious treasure he held in his arms.

————

Thank you for reading! 💗

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back2bluesidex · 9 months

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Oh So Reluctant 2 - PJM (18+)

Pairing: Husband!Jimin X Wife!Reader

Theme: Angst, SMUT, little fluff, Arrange marriage au. Majorly Jimin's POV.

Summary: For the past eleven months that you have been married to Park Jimin, he has not looked at you the way he has been doing today. And there is sinister in his eyes.

Word count: 2367

Warnings: Angst, unhappy married life, Jimin struggles with his feelings, he tries to keep himself sane, jealous jimin, unprotected sex (stay safe), swearing.

Minors are NOT welcomed in this blog!!

A/N: This story was requested by lovely @chimmy-licious. This is the second and last part of the two-shot. Hope you all like it.

Part 1

If there is anything that Jimin has learned in his 29 years of life then it’s the fact that nothing lasts forever. When he was merely 18 years old, his father divorced his mother and shifted to the states. That’s the first event to break his concept of “happily ever after”. He always thought his parents got well together. They weren’t a lovey-dovey couple but they knew how to spend days and nights with each other without having random fallouts. But he was wrong. He probably never understood that what he thought was peace is actually the lack of communication.

When Jimin was 22, he had his first real break up. He was in love with this girl and the moment she said she wanted to end it all, he felt as if his carefully constructed sand castle was crumbling down. And this was the second time he realized nothing actually lasts forever.

But he was still quite cheerful about his life. He had a ton of friends, went partying with them and led a prosperous life, thanks to his mom. And then came his 25th year and everything turned upside down. His best friend cum colleague betrayed him in the most unbelievable way.

That guy, named Sung Kwon, was accused of recruiting trainees in exchange for money. When the company ran an investigation on him, he blamed it all on Jimin. Jimin, who knew none of it, felt his vision turning dark and his wit getting lost. Even though further investigation proved Jimin innocent, he already faced all the emotional damage he could. He then promised himself that he would never ever get attached to anyone ever again. And he kept his word by drawing himself in working and achieving new heights ever so often.

He has had random hook-ups, one night stands, some acquaintances to drink with, some people to check up on him, but he never got close to anyone any more. That is why when his mother proposed to him to get married, he revolted. He couldn’t even think of getting into an active relationship and marriage? That was impossible for him to accept. However, in the end his mother won. He couldn’t reject her anymore given the fact that the lady had gone the extra mile to provide for him after his father left.

When he met you for the first and only time before the wedding, he cleared it up that marriage is his mother’s wish, not his. You made a good impression on him that day. You didn’t seem to be the clingy type or the curious type. You were rather composed and listened carefully to what he had to say. So, he concluded you would respect his space after marriage.

And you did, but not always. For the first six months you tried to get closer to him, which made him quite uncomfortable. You cooked dinners, planned dates, gave him meaningful gifts but he only felt guilt. Guilt of not feeling enough to do the same for you. Most of your interactions were awkward and your eyes would turn gloomy whenever there was a failed attempt of getting to know him more. And then you eventually stopped. You stopped trying anything at all.

Suddenly there were no cooked dinners to come home to, no movie nights to understand each other’s movie preferences, no little gifts to look forward to. Only then Jimin understood he got used to it all.

For the first six months, if Jimin felt anything for you then it was sexual desire. I mean, you are very attractive and sexy and he is a man with a dick, which obviously twitches seeing you in flimsy camisoles and shorts (even though you two don’t share a room). Nevertheless, when you stopped trying, he missed more than just your sexy body. He missed your face, your voice, your smile, your warmth and you. But his ego and cold nature never allowed him to approach you and he stayed holed up in his own space, lonely and guilty.

Just a week ago you asked him to attend your company’s event with you. He was internally happy to have you finally talk to him but he was scared that he is getting attached to an almost stranger again. So he said no. He lied. He said he had a press conference to attend, while he had no important schedule that day. He could clearly see the way your eyes started glistening right away. His heart dropped.

After a continuous battle with himself, he finally decided to give it a try. He decided to give you and this relationship a chance. He decided to talk to you about starting to take things slow rather than jumping into promises of forever. And the very first step of doing so was attending that event.

He intentionally got late to make it seem like his claim of having this nonexistent press conference was true. He styled himself well, asked a hairstylist to do his hair and drowned himself in his favorite perfume only to find you wrapped around another man’s arm while talking about divorcing him. He saw red. He quickly understood that he is jealous as well as scared of the prospect of losing you. Fuck! He was already attached to you.

“Who was that guy? Your ex?” his mouth runs on its own accord.

“No. He can be my future though.” You reply calmly, as if it’s not a big deal to leave your husband behind for another man.

“What makes you think I will let you go so easily?” Jimin confronts you and himself at the same time.

“Your reluctance towards my existence?” So this is what he had made you believe? You think he is reluctant towards you when he is always hyper aware of your presence? No. This is not right. So he clarifies himself, “I am not reluctant towards you, Y/N. I am rather very much aware.” Jimin raises his voice a bit as if to emphasize his statement.

“Aware of how much you don’t want me in your life?” If you asked him this question within the first six months of your marriage, he would have said yes. But he doesn’t feel the same anymore.

“No! Quite the opposite actually.” he replies.

That makes you take a look at him, as he already stares at you. You cock your eyebrow as if to ask for an explanation. When your eyes bore into Jimin’s, he finds himself getting entangled within his inner conflict. How should he explain what he feels for you? He knows he is attracted but is that enough to keep you in this worthless marriage? Will you even consider his feelings after the way he treated you? So he does what he feels like the best option. He changes the subject.

“You look very… beautiful tonight.” Jimin doesn’t lie when he compliments you. You are obviously very beautiful but tonight your beauty is just overshadowing everything. He rakes his eyes through your body. Your exposed cleavage makes him want to bury his head on your chest, taste your skin and mark you as his, only his.

You cross your legs and expose more of your skin as you catch him staring shamelessly.

He smirks. One of his hands reaches to grab the supple flesh of your thigh harshly. You almost spit your drink out.

“Don’t tease me, Y/N. I have been having a tough time controlling myself for these eleven months already.” Jimin’s voice drops down a few octaves. He is getting horny already. He knows it’s not right. He knows you two need to talk before getting into bed with each other but how can he keep himself sane when you look like this? His thumb draws invisible circles on your thigh.

Your eyes widen as you try to play innocent, “What do you mean?”

Jimin’s fingers glide higher on your smooth skin and it reaches where he has only imagined his fingers before.

His digits hover above your mound as he mouths, “Let me show you what I mean.”

You seem to contemplate what he just said for a couple of moments but then you swat his hand away from your body. Jimin thought he finally got you under his spell but his confidence lowered the moment you declined his advances.

“If you think you can win me over with sex after making it clear that you don’t want me in your life, then… you are wrong, Jimin.” Your words are followed with a sigh. Jimin removes his hands from your thigh as he reflects on his choice of action. This is not what he wanted but he fucked up anyway.

Just when he is about to apologize, he gets interrupted by that same guy from earlier.

“Y/N, Mr. Choi wants to congratulate you. Could you spare me a minute?” The guy questions looming awfully closer to your body.

“Sure, Taehyung.” You smile sweetly at him and Jimin feels himself turning green yet again.

You walk away with this taehyung guy as his hand stays on the small of your back. Jimin glares at the sight.

“Can I get you something, sir?” the bartender diverts Jimin’s attention.

“A dirty martini, please.” he says briefly as his eyes remain only on your figure.

This Taehyung guy is sly, he is on a mission of stealing you away from Jimin, that’s what Jimin concludes upon seeing Taehyung getting all cozy with you. But what bothers him more is that you don’t appear to be uncomfortable with any of it.

Jimin takes a large sip of his drink as he observes you. Your body slots perfectly in Taehyung arms as you two talk to whom he assumes a stakeholder. Taehyung says something in your ear and you roll your eyes at him. Then he takes you towards the dance floor and you give him one of your blinding smiles.

Jimin’s stomach feels funny, his heart tightens around his chest as he sees you swinging your body rhythmically with Taehyung’s. He places both of his hands on your waist and Jimin’s hold on his glass goes tighter.

You two look like a lovey-dovey couple when the truth is that he is your husband and he is sitting here alone watching you. The urge of claiming you overpowers his rationality as he finds himself leaving the barstool and walking towards you.

“Let’s go home. It’s quite late already.” Jimin says a bit loudly, placing a hand on your shoulder. You turn to look at him with an unreadable expression.

“I don’t wan-” You start but he cuts you off.

“We need to talk, Y/N. Please.”

You nod at him defeatedly.

He waits in his car while you bid goodbye to your colleagues.

“Are you really planning on divorcing me?” Jimin questions you as he drives towards home.

“If that’s what makes both of us happy and less burdened, then yes.” you seem to choose your words carefully, as if you have given this subject a thousand thoughts.

“I- I don’t want so. I wanna give this a try. Give us a try.” Jimin’s voice trembles a bit.

You look at him, “I understand if you are feeling overwhelmed after seeing your married wife with another guy. It’s not what you think it is, Jimin. You just feel possessive because I wear a ring of your name, not because you feel something for me.”

“No, Y/N. I know myself. I know what I feel and what I don’t. And I-” he gulps, “I think I developed some feelings for you.”

“Jimin, you are mistaken.” you try to reason.

“I never felt this much jealousy in my entire life. I was not only possessive but I am still very much jealous because that guy knows how to make you smile and make you feel comfortable around himself and I don’t. I hate myself for that. I am your fucking husband and I can’t even make you smile!” Jimin scolds himself.

“You never tried. I am sure you would have succeeded if you at least tried.” Your eyes drop down on your lap. Jimin knows you are teary.

“I am sorry. I am so fucking sorry, Y/N. I will try. Give me a chance. I will try my best to push away all of the insecurities and be there as your husband. A husband that you deserve.”

You don’t reply but Jimin hears a faint sniffling sound.

“You will give me a chance right?” he pesses on.

“Well I guess it’s not too late.” You reply, finally smiling at him through tears.

“Do you even have any idea how I felt when I saw his hands grazing you in places I never did?” Jimin’s breathy voice fans over your mouth as he pounds into you restlessly. His hold on your thigh goes tighter, making his nails dig into your flesh.

“How did you feel?” you place your question, grabbing Jimin’s shoulder for your dear life.

“I felt like dragging you off the dancefloor and fucking you on the bartop for everyone to see. Everyone should know you are mine. Right?” he bites on your collarbone and earns a whimper from you. But you don’t provide him with the answer he is looking for.

He slaps harshly on your naked butt while pressing you more on the glass window of his bedroom.

“Fuck. yes. Yes! I am yours, only yours. Fuck-” You feel yourself getting closer to a dizzying orgasm. “I’m close.”

“Me too. Hold on a bit more, baby. Let’s finish together.” Jimin’s hand leaves your thigh alone as it flies towards your cunt. His fingers start abusing your clit and send you over the edge.

“Jimin, I- I can’t-” You pant hard.

“Cum now.” Jimin commands and you comply. You cum on his cock as he spills his white hotness inside you.

You two come down from your high connecting your foreheads together.

“So… Do you still want to divorce me?” Jimin chuckles at your ruined state.

“Absolutely not.” you reply, pulling him down for a kiss as if to seal your fate together.

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