#Even if it meant he’d drown too

[shima-draws]

Shut up shut UP I’m FINE this didn’t make me emotional,

[dutybcrne]

A little known fact is Kaeya usually tends to cry out of frustration. Little known, because he tends to be so good at masking it and holding back when it comes to a head, with only Adelinde having been the one he felt comfortable enough to cry around, back in his youth.

Nowadays, he will adamantly refuse to cry in front of anyone, even those he’s closest to. But if one who knows him well enough might happen to witness his lashes seemingly fluttering as he rolls his eyes after a verbal bout with Diluc, they’ll know.

They’ll know.

[ttsukiimi]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ F⍣CK HER ‘TILL SHE SORE!

★ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⎯ He’s not addicted to your cũnt—he swears. He swears even as he’s forced the fourth ōrgasm out of you tonight; and there’s more to come.

★ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⎯ gojo x fem!reader, toji x fem!reader, choso x fem!reader, nanami x fem!reader, smut (mdni), tit play, multiple örgasms, size difference (choso), slight còckwarming (nanami), reader referred to as (princess, baby, doll, good girl)

✧･ﾟ𝓖. 𝓢 ✧･ﾟ

Gojo didn’t even know how he even initially found himself inside you—it was like one second he was cuddling closer to you as his eyes glued to the tv, then another your leg was hoisted over his waist as he jerked his hips into you repeatedly. Was it his fault? Had he begged you to let him put just the tip in? Yes.

But you had given in, and that in its own was your mistake.

“Stay still, princess, wanna give it to you good,” he whispered in your ear, the way his shaky breath fanned past your neck causing goosebumps to bloom on your skin. You nodded, though it wasn’t a promise, and tried to take each passionate thrust of his girth he gave to you.

You were clutching the couch pillow for dear life, whining as you felt euphoria rock through you so pleasurably for the umpteenth time that night. The movie playing had long been forgotten—only serving as background noise, and to Satoru a nuisance since the sounds drowned out your heavenly moans.

He huffed into the skin of your neck, determined to now make you louder, and a hot slap landed on your left cheek, effectively coaxing a loud yelp from your lips. “Mh—!”

And you were sensitive by then, his seed dripping from your battered cunt, your body shivering and thighs quivering, but even then he was set on urging one last orgasm out of you.

Or two.

Hell, he couldn’t even promise it wouldn’t be three. But he just needed to stay inside of you.

Satoru’s hands came up from behind you before they latched onto your chest, groping your tits as he muttered lewd words in your ear.

“You like when I fucking play with these pretty tits, hm?” He kissed your shoulder, and you felt a smile form against your skin as the only thing you could let out was a weak whine—too drunk on his dick to speak. Satoru groaned at the sound, his lips finding your pulse point as he spoke.

“Always so dumb once I get inside you,”

✧･ﾟ𝓒.𝓚✧･ﾟ

Choso doesn’t have an exact idea of why he loves being buried inside you so much; perhaps it’s the way you sound, the way you feel, or the way you look—tears in your eyes and all—but he does know that he’d die happy if that meant he was inside you in his last moments.

And he absolutely adores every minute that he is.

Because with how much your greedy cunt is pulsing around him, and your manicured nails are scratching red lines down his back, Choso thinks he’s really found heaven. Right between your legs.

“Baby, slow down, Cho,” you whined, your sight obscured with tears though you could still make out the image of his sculpted body over yours, and he’s so big compared to you.

Sometimes he might forget that—but could you blame him though? Anyone would forget about some mere size difference when inside your addictive pussy, and he proved to be that anyone.

Choso leaned forward, and in the process his hair fell forward, framing both yours and his face. His hands ventured up your body and found their place on your chest, squeezing the meleable flesh.

“‘S okay, you can take it,” he mumbled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, uncaring of the slight drool dribbling from the side of your mouth. With each thrust the course hairs at his base tickled your clit, stimulating you in a way that felt so good your whole body was quivering with pleasure.

“Just..one more, baby,”

✧･ﾟ𝓝.𝓚✧･ﾟ

Sometimes Nanami finds himself wondering just what you do to him, how you’ve changed him in ways he couldn’t himself in the past years you’ve been together. He can't help but smile when he sees your infectious smile, and he melts when he hears your sweet laugh.

But, above all, you've created an addiction in him. One that he seems to think about every waking moment; even at work, and that’s new territory for him.

What’s worse is that you know. Always teasing him about how pussy drunk he is, how he’d really do anything just to be inside you—not like he’s denying that—but he can’t retaliate with the way the tips of his ears burn pink. So, he’ll prove it.

“Kento, what’re you—“ you cut yourself off with an uneven breath, eyes rolling to the back of your head in tandem with the way he pushes himself into you.

His strong arms are wrapped around you, keeping you in place, but he strangely doesn’t begin to move. The reason being—well, he’s testing himself. His resolve, his patience by not moving a single inch, even while being compressed by your tight warmth.

Which is proving to be a challenge already for Nanami.

“Proving to you that ‘m not—“ he halts, groaning and gritting his teeth as you slightly shift, causing a grin to flourish on your face.

“That you’re not what?” you retort, pushing your hips back onto him, taking him in deeper than he already was. Your hand reaches back and caresses his face, cooing above his lips. “Know you wanna move. ‘M not stopping you either, ken.”

You’re so close to his lips Nanami could move an inch and they’d touch, but he won’t, of course. But…when you’re fucking yourself on his cock, moaning out for him to hear, to tease him, Nanami thinks maybe there isn’t anything to prove.

Maybe he is drunk on your pussy.

✧･ﾟ𝓣.𝓕✧･ﾟ

Toji knows of his slight compulsion towards your pussy. His tendency to always want to be inside is truly something that needs to be studied—because there’s absolutely no way his sex drive should be this significant.

Admittedly, he is aware of his addiction, but will he take any action to try to change his behavior? No. That then becomes your problem to tackle, but you have the perfect solution.

“A what?” Toji mumbled, licking the scar on his lip as he creased an eyebrow upwards in confusion. You were sat on his lap, your arms looped around his neck and you began to speak.

“A Sex ban, Toji.” you attempted to suppress your grin when you saw the confusion on his face only deepen, and a big hand came to cup your cheek, forcing you to look at him.

“‘M not for all your little games today, doll. Got a mission tomorrow and y’know what that means.” he sighed, his free hand holding your waist, slowly sliding to the waistband of your shorts and beginning to pull them down.

“But, really baby, we—you need a break.” you protested, but just couldn’t counter back with the way his rough and thick fingers were already playing with your folds, gathering your essence.

Quickly, his lips were on yours and that shut you up, which gave him time to free himself from his sweats and enter you in one, swift motion.

He wasted no time in holding your hips and bouncing you up and down on his cock, a smug smirk on his lips as he looked at the way your eyes rolled back in pleasure. You weren’t one to talk about a sex ban when you could hardly even let him go on a mission for more than 2 days without complaining about how much you missed him and his magic dick.

“Now ya just be quiet and take what I give you, yeah?” he breathed in your ear as his big hands groped your tits, fingers playing with your hardened nipples. The pleasure coursed throughout your body so deliciously, already causing your thighs to begin quivering and your pussy pulsed around him, greedy to suck him dry.

“Good girl,”

[a-ikuoliver]

happy birthday to the man!! — katsuki sees your sex toys once and is haunted by what you look like using them

pairing: bakugou x f!reader w/c: 1.5k warning/s: nsfw 18+, m! & f!masturbation; sex toys, i think that's everything notes: this is a bit short BUT i had to get something out for the man, this took me like 2 weeks to write but hopefully now i'll be out of my slump a little bit! pls enjoy c:

crossposted to ao3 • masterlist • wip updates & voting • kofi • askbox

fuck… he really doesn’t know when the lines started to blur between friend and fantasy, from wanting to hang out with you to wanting you, from talking to you about your day to being bricked up hearing your voice. yet, here he was, hot water streaming down his neck, plastering damp hair to his forehead; the water pouring over his head nowhere near enough to wash his mind of you.

he’d been plagued by you, morning to night, even in his damn dreams since he tried to find a phone charger at your place.

it’s not like he was snooping, he wasn’t trying to find that sort of thing, bakugou was only trying to find your spare charger, he’d seen you put it in one of these drawers before, how was he meant to know you left your spare chargers right below all of that?

he’d slammed the drawer shut the absolute second he realised exactly what he was staring at; the bedside drawer stuffed to the brim with bright, phallic toys, a collection of smaller, rounder vibrators, something that looked awfully similar to a gag, and he heard the telltale metal clinking of at least one pair of handcuffs against the wood when he slammed it closed. embarrassing heat crawled up his neck, burning his cheeks and setting the very tips of his ears alight. stuck in the same spot, mouth half opened dumbly, his eyebrows creased in the centre of his face, all blood rushing from his brain down to his half-hard cock already straining against his pants, the need making him ache.

every hour since that, he’d spent thinking of what your wet cunt looked like swallowing the toys; so pretty and drippy, how it looked tensing around nothing when you came from the buzzing of your vibrator, how you’d look writhing and moaning handcuffed with that gag in your mouth, how your drool would stain your shirt, sticking the fabric to your skin. god, it was just so lewd, even under the purifying water, he felt dizzy, sticky, hot, sweaty, the image of your toys burnt into his retinas, no matter what he tried to distract himself with, he always saw your toys at the forefront of his mind, the perverted imagery refusing to budge from its newfound home.

bakugou groans, a deep, rough sound drowned out by the even buzzing echoing in his ears, the sound slowly building, kicking to a new level when your whine drowns it out. you always start nearly silent in his dreams, just tiny gasps escaping your parted lips when you’d nestle the toy right against your clit. you only get louder from there, your eyebrows scrunching together like his own were, marking two little tallies in the middle, tilting upwards at the centre as you pulled your lip up between your teeth. the motion did absolutely nothing to muffle your sounds, your whimpers and moans only growing louder with every heave of your chest, every passing moment with the vibrator pressed to your pulsing clit making your hips jolt into it.

you reach between your thighs with a whine that sounds all too similar to his name torn from your lips, dipping your fingertips in your slick cunt, collecting all the cum gathering at your trembling hole without even taking a breather from humping your vibrator like your life depended on it. your movements grew jerkier and jerkier the longer the intense vibrations were held to your drooling pussy, your eyes fluttering closed with a breathless shout of his name, shaky, wet thighs squeezing around your hand, even as the vibrator slipped from your grip, falling forgotten onto the sheets beneath you, the constant stimulation growing too much for you—

“fuck.” he really couldn’t help it, his hand travelling lower down his abdomen, trailing behind droplets of water still running down his torso to his hard cock, the tip already leaking from the thought of you. wrapping his fist around the base of his cock, he squeezed once before twisting his wrist, slowly jerking his cock, wondering if you were in your shower doing the same, fucking yourself on one of your toys imagining him in its place just as he wished it was your warm cunt squeezing around his dick instead of his hand.

“katsukiii—” bakugou can feel you beside him, your figure displacing the dense steam surrounding him, a heavy, thick silicone dildo hanging from the glass wall of the shower, your figure slick and soapy from the shower, damp hair sticking to the soft skin of your neck and face when you bent at the waist, lining the tip of the plastic cock up with your drooling hole. the head of the cock would slide into your cunt all too easily in his fantasies, always greedy to watch you take more and more, inch by inch sinking onto it. your mouth falls further open the more you take of the toy, the pleasure too much for you to even hold your head up by the time your ass was pressed against the cool glass, your back arching with the tip of the dildo nestled deep inside your cunt. he wonders if the curve of it would rub on your g-spot at this angle, if it would drive you crazy grinding against the glass, whining when you can’t take it anymore.

bakugou’s head falls back thinking of you reaching for the shower head, his cock pulsing in his hand when he grips the base, his muscles tensing and relaxing while he tried desperately not to cum; the image of you playing behind his eyelids making that a near impossible task. even with his eyes squeezed shut, there you are at the forefront of his mind, switching the settings of the shower head to a concentrated stream, aimed directly at your aching clit, your broken moan jolting his hips forward into his hand, stroking the length languidly. your voice wavered, repeating his name again, the stimulation inside and outside your cunt just so overwhelming.

bracing against the tile with your spare hand, you lift yourself back off the toy, the base suctioned to the glass remaining stuck as you grew quicker in your movements, starting to bounce and roll your hips in a smooth tempo. he matches the pace of your hips with his fist, his breath coming out in nothing but deep huffs. his uneven groans were nothing compared to your sweet chorus of moans and whines, an endless symphony playing in his head of “ah-ah-ah”’s and “mmmng”’s the closer you got, your cum coating the toy just like his pre was smearing all over his fist.

he can’t help the guttural sound that escapes him next, a garbled, broken version of your name when your thighs tremble, your knees only moments away from buckling from the pure bliss; the water is still aimed at your clit, even when you can’t bounce on the dildo anymore, wave after wave of pleasure drowning you until your eyes rolled into your skull and your cum gathered in a creamy ring at the base of the toy, your ass flattening against the glass as you greedily took more of the toy, intensifying the euphoria wracking through your body. he knows your toy fills your cunt so perfectly, knows how you’d hump the air to get more and more of the water aimed at your clit, unrelenting in chasing your orgasm, jolting and jerking until your knuckles turned white against the tile wall, until your voice was so high and loud it didn’t even sound like you anymore.

he wonders if you’d ever screamed taking the fake cock, if you’d ever been so overwhelmed you squealed, your pretty cunt clenching around the toy, milking the poor plastic for everything it can’t give you, or if he’d be the first to make you cum so intensely.

“ka-aa-ki—” you can’t even spit his name out, your name the same mess on his plump lips, caught so hard between sharp teeth he worries he’ll split the thin skin. all his muscles tense, his abdomen clenching low on his stomach, the veins stretching along the underside of his cock throbbing with the need to join you in the throes of pleasure, to cover your cunt in milk white cum you desperately tried to squeeze from the silicone.

your name is a choked mantra tumbling from his lips, over and over again, dark crimson eyes rolling into the back of his skull the longer you bounced on the toy, pinching sensitive nipples between your slippery, soapy fingers, dragging your orgasm out as long as you could, as long as he would, until your knees were weak and your couldn't even manage to dumbly spit out his name anymore.

“fuck.” he damn near whines, a mess of cum covering his fingers, coating his knuckles as he kept fucking his fist through the waves of his own orgasm, shivering even with the hot water running down his body, cleaning his hand even as he continued to stroke his cock, relaxing his muscles as his toes still curled, his knuckles stark white against the tile.

his head fell forward onto the cooling tile, a temporary relief for the haziness swirling around in the steam.

shit, how was he meant to look you in the eyes after this?

© all works belong to @a-ikuoliver, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost, feed my works into ai or recommend my work on other platforms, or bind my fanworks for sale.

[dearest-nell]

charmed

e. munson x reader, 3k

summary: eddie comes home from a long day at work to discover wayne has a pretty surprise for him includes: established!eddie x reader, wayne being the sweetest paternal figure, mumblings of a found family, wayne manifesting a daughter in law by years end warnings: afab reader, non descript

a/n: writing from the boys perspective is always way more fun. i have so many thoughts about wayne and eddie's relationship.

Eddie had intended to be home earlier, a far cry earlier than the 9:30 that blinked hazily on his vans dashboard as he pulled in before the trailer. He was meant to be home hours ago, hoping to enjoy a Friday night the way that a young person ought to – out with the people he loved. Instead he sat in his driver's seat, covered in oil and grime and god knows what else from under the hood of some deadbeat richman from the other side of town. The apprentice had fucked the repair of a rather pricey car, one that was to be picked up first thing monday, and Eddie didn’t have it in him to let the little guy drown under the barrage of abuse from an intimidating customer. 

So he stayed back, and now he was paying the price. Dinner would have been long over by now, and it was unlikely that Wayne was still home at such an hour. He usually had the night shift on this pay cycle, but Eddie couldn’t tell one from another these days. The lights were still on, his indication that he’d gotten his weeks wrong. 

Worn leather boots beat against the gravel as he trekked towards the door, hand running through the curls that hung low on his forehead; wild, in desperate need of a trim. He was spent, body weary and limp from the extra strain. He wanted to call his friends, to call you, to ask for good company, but he knew even now he was too tired to go anywhere. 

The door was unlocked, so he slipped into the warmth of the trailer with an involuntary shiver, eyes blinking tiredly to spot the figure propped up on the couch. Wayne. Beer in hand, chin shadowed with stubble; Eddie’s hero, if anyone were to ever ask. The old man was his favourite person, whether he knew it or not. 

Wayne gave a gruff smile, tilting his chin up at his nephew. “Long day, boy?” 

“Yeah.” Eddie breathed, voice more gravelly than he’d realised. “Got stuck back, sorry I didn’t call.” 

Wayne shrugged. “I figured, though there’s a surprise in your room f’you.” 

A surprise? Eddie couldn’t possibly guess what. “You’re joking.” 

Wayne simply smiled in response, shaking his head. “You go have a look ‘n tell me if I’m joking. Just be quiet about it.” 

Eddie gave a quizzical sort of look, boots resounding against the floorboards as he moved towards the room, a quick mumble from Wayne catching his attention again. 

“Quieter than that.” 

Eddie scoffed, his demeanour still playful despite his disbelief. He took more careful steps this time, readjusting the band wrapped clumsily around his bound tresses, trying to alleviate the steadily subsiding headache from two hours ago. Wayne had never been much of a secret keeper, nor was he one for dramatics. He was a pragmatic, realistic, nonfrivolous sort of man, which made that excitable little sparkle in his uncle’s eyes all the more amusing. Wayne didn’t play tricks, but Eddie couldn’t help but feel he was walking into one. 

With a slow turn of his door handle, Eddie eased the gap open, his eyes scanning the silent dark until his gaze settled upon the mountain of blankets upon his bed. There, buried under three blankets of comfort, was you. It might have been hard to tell under any other circumstances, but even half asleep and exhausted out of his mind, Eddie knew he could recognise your silhouette anywhere. He softened instantaneously, body slackening slightly under the slow wave of adoration that overcame him. You were here to see him. Talk about a surprise, he hadn’t expected to see you today, and now he felt his ribs pressing in tightly together, chest constricting with a glad sort of giddiness. 

He was gentle in closing the door again, his smile bemused at his now grinning uncle. “And how’d my girl end up in there, hm?” 

He toed off his boots, movements suddenly precise and careful under the presence of your company. Even through the closed door, he had no desire to rouse you just yet. Not until he was ready, clean and showered and shed of all other obligations, able to dedicate himself to your company. 

“She came by at 5,” Wayne explained, turning down the quiet shout of the television set with a well worn remote, “thought you’d be home soon, wanted to surprise you. I told her she was welcome t’wait, thinkin’ you’d be round earlier. But y’weren’t, so we had some dinner.” 

Wayne paused, nudging his chin towards the fridge, which Eddie took to mean there was leftovers waiting for him inside. He began rustling through, finding what was left of a roast and vegetables wrapped up neatly in foil. It was a little more extravagant than he had expected, and Eddie chalked that up to your aid in the kitchen. He could see the container of biscuits on the counter, too, with little hearts and flowers piped onto the tops. Pinks and blues and reds and whites, this wasn’t a house for sweets and softness, though Eddie welcomed your charms in any way he could get them. He sat at the table to feast, unbothered to even reheat the feast. 

Wayne continued on. “Thought she might go lookin’ for y’, but we got a’talking. She’s a real sweet thing, y’know, made a real effort to chat. Even offered to sit down ‘n watch a game with me, thought I didn’t have the heart t’put her through it. Ended up watchin’ some Antiques Roadshow thinkin’ she’d like it better; you ever seen me watchin’ that before? I ain’t never had much care, but we had good fun.”

“No shit!” Eddie piped up, astounded by the softened edges of his Uncle. You’d charmed him, he thought, with your curious questions and kind smiles. For Wayne to sit down and talk to anyone was a miracle, one that only an angel could perform. His Angel. 

“We got guessin’ and everythin’.” Wayne added, wiping roughly at his smile. “Seemed tired, though, so I told her to crash in your room. She’s been out maybe half an hour.” 

Astounded was an understatement. Eddie had brought girls home before he met you, though none had bothered to exchange more than polite pleasantries with his Uncle. He’d never been serious about them, so he’d never thought much of it, and then came you. Three months into this new connection, a relationship born of spring flowers and whisky nights and loud music and soft touches. Eddie had never been serious until now, until you, and now he couldn’t picture being anything else but. 

He was glowing, beaming from ear to ear. “So you like her, then?” He was so hopeful in his question, a sincerity Wayne only ever saw reserved for the most heartfelt of Eddie’s dreamings. 

“I do.” Wayne announced, washing down his contentment with another swig of his beer. “I hope y’re serious ‘bout her, she’s real soft on you, and I think she’s a good one. Seems to make you happy enough, you ain’t mopin’ nearly so much these days.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes, groaning with faux annoyance, rolling foil into a tiny ball to toss across the room, missing Wayne by a good foot of space. “I don’t mope.” 

“I don’t mope my ass, kid, you mope plenty. Just not anymore.” He was laughing now, worn lines creasing at the corners of his eyes. “I said she should come back f’dinner another night, we can all eat together. She was tellin’ me ‘bout this story she was readin’, and I’ll be damned if I don’t know how it ends.” 

Eddie knew how this story ended; it ended with you. It began with you, too. It was all you, he couldn’t see any other ending for him. 

“Yeah, that sounds good, old man.” He was doing his best to stomach the meal, but his words were caught around hastily eaten mouthfuls half chewed and uneasy to swallow. He’d give himself heartburn if he wasn’t careful, and it would have been worth it. 

Eddie took a moment to pause, swallowing thickly, belching unceremoniously in a way he was glad you weren't there to witness. “I am serious, y’know, about her. Real serious. I got a good feeling.” 

“Yeah?” Wayne questioned, sinking back into the sofa. 

“Yeah. She could be the one; ain’t that somethin’? I always thought it was bull when people said you just know, but…” he laughed with astonishment, “I think I just know.” 

“Well shit,” Wayne exclaimed, clearing his throat, “that’s real good, Ed’s. You just be good and treat her nice. Be a gentleman.” 

Eddie wasn’t too sure he knew how to be a gentleman, but somehow, he knew you liked him all the same. He didn’t need to be anything but himself around you, and that was a one in a billion kind of feeling,

He was quick in his cleaning, fumbling around the kitchen to pack away a still soaking plate, his mind skating over the plastic drying rack by the sink entirely. “I’m bein’ good, I swear.” 

“Bullshit.” Wayne teased, shaking his head. He braced himself on his knees, slowly rising to his feet with a groan. “I’m goin’ to bed. Tell her she’s welcome to stay whenever she likes, okay? Show her where the spare key is.” 

“I will.” Eddie nodded, barely able to fight his slow building excitement. He could feel himself getting restless, hands flexing just at the thought of holding you. “G’night, Wayne.” 

“G’night son.” He echoed back, disappearing into the quiet of his own room. 

Eddie made sure to lock up on his way, switching off the tv and lights as his own sort of wind down ritual. They’d be on all night if he wasn’t careful, and he’d spied the last bill long enough to have a mind for the electricity now. Besides, he needed to be calm when he woke you. He’d half frightened you to death last time he came barrelling in. 

Once again, he retreated towards his room, slipping into the dark like a shadow of the night, slowly shucking his way out of his overalls to kick to the side of the room. He didn’t mind staining his sheets with oil, but not you; you were something worth caring for. He knew he should have showered, but the sweat on his skin could hardly deter him from the need he had to be close to you, to ease away the troubles of his way with the balm of your skin against his, your whispers ringing in his head. 

He fumbled his way to the edge of the mattress, your sleeping body facing away from him to the back wall of the room. He peered a little closer into the darkness, a sliver of moonlight cascading across the bare curve of your shoulder, arm wrapped around something small, something fuzzy…

“Well shit, Ted, what’re you doing in here?” Eddie hadn’t thought to consider where the ragdoll cat had scampered off to. Teddy had been adopted only a few weeks after Eddie came to live with Wayne, his Uncle’s way of easing the boy into this entirely new world together. Teddy had been his childhood companion, and by the way he was burrowed into the pudge of your stomach, purring louder than a car engine, Eddie could see you’d won him over too. 

The cat barely stirred, rather giving him a grumbled sort of chirp at being disturbed, before wriggling his way further under the blankets. You, however, made the softest of whining noises that left Eddie’s heart near strangling in his chest. He lifted a ring clad hand to that moonlight shoulder, brushing callouses across the line of freckles that dusted your skin, watching as your eyes began to flutter open, head turning slightly to face him. 

“Eddie!” No one in the world had ever been so enthusiastic to see him before, not one. His name wasn’t the kind to roll off the tongue, to be begged for or shouted out or held tenderly on someone's lips. Never before, but the way your mouth wrapped around the letters seemed to change the word entirely. Nothing had ever sounded so tender, so wanting, so pleased. You were always pleased to see him, a feeling he never had to doubt when he could see it so plainly reflected in your irises. 

“Honey.” He cooed back, tugging up the corner of the bedsheets to slip beneath them, curving his body to fit the shape of your own, nudging his knee between your two just to feel your skin pressed against his own in every possible way. The hair on his body was just as wild as the hair on his head, but nothing felt like home to him more than the brush of your skin to the mess of his. “Fancy seeing you here.” 

You exhaled a lengthy yawn, muffling the sound into his pillow with a hum. Your hair, once styled, now seemed mussed and flattened under the weight of your head. His bed linens were already tattooing precious creases into sleep warmed skin. You were too beautiful for him to even comprehend. 

You turned in his arms, careful not to disrupt the grumbling cat beside you despite your eagerness. He felt arms press their way around him, your nose nuzzling at his chin. “Wayne let me in. I hope that’s okay.” 

Literally nothing else could have been more okay in his mind. It was perfect. This was perfect; coming home to you. “Come by anytime, baby. I’m just sorry I wasn’t back sooner. I made you wait.” 

You shook your head. “I didn’t mind. Wayne’s really cool. He kept me company.”

“So I heard.” His voice was edged with an air of amusement, his hand lifting to brush back the strands of hair falling across your face, leaving his palm to cup at the plush of your cheek, his eyes admiring even in the dark. “Antiques Roadshow?”

You let out a giggle. “We panicked! I was trying to make a good impression, and he suggested it so I thought why not. Honestly it was pretty fun, I could totally watch another episode.” 

“Mm.” His lips met the button of your nose dotingly, his voice slackening to a syrupy smoothness. “He’s impressed, I’m impressed; you’ve got us Munson men wrapped around your pretty little finger. Even Teddy’s on your side.” 

“I do not!” You chided, helpless against his onslaught of affection. He left you preening and giddy, a little lightheaded when he loved on you like this, and Eddie never had any intention of stopping. “Teddy just wanted a cuddle.”

“Him and me both.” Eddie asserted, snaking his other arm beneath the arch of your waist, wrapping around the small of your back to tug you in further, his smile resoundingly bright at the way you hummed happily. “We’re not too young to be asleep by 10, are we?” 

The way you eased into the very fabric of him, your bodies so close and so connected, wrapped tightly in the warmth of his room, was enough assurance to him that you were just as content here as he was. “No. I’m not leaving this spot. You just got home, and I’m all sleepy, and Ted’s gonna get mad if we move.” 

Ted chirped an affirmative sound, leaving Eddie to rasp a laugh. “Well we can’t make Teddy mad, can we. Gotta stay here all night with my girl.” 

You chuckled softly in turn, your voice quieting under the weight of exhaustion. “I was meant to keep you company, but I’m so sleepy.” Another yawn parted your plush lips, leaving Eddie with no choice but to press his own to the corner once they came back together again. 

“You are keepin’ me company. Think I’ll sleep a bunch better with you keepin’ me warm. I’ll take you on a date tomorrow, hm? After a big sleep in?” 

“You’re so sexy when you talk like that.” You mumbled, your lashes fluttering shut to rest against your cheeks. “I’d kiss you stupid if I could move.” 

Besotted was not a strong enough word for what Eddie felt in that moment, but he was overwhelmed with the urge to litter a smattering of kisses from the edge of your cheekbone to the corners of your forehead, each one softer than the last, lulling you into that sweet place of slumber you were already drifting towards. 

“Kiss me stupid tomorrow. Sleep, sweetheart.” You didn’t need to be told twice. Within moments, Eddie watched the light in your flicker to a dim, pale glow, your breathing evening out to something unhurried. Peaceful. It didn’t matter to him that he had only had those brief moments with you tonight. Five minutes with you was enough to chase away all the strife of a day otherwise written off in his mind. And that was what his life had been missing, after all. Someone who made going to sleep at 10pm look like the greatest moment of his life. He wanted to keep you to himself, a greedy kind of possessiveness stirring in his gut, for as long as he was able, knowing full well that less than twelve hours from now, Wayne would without a doubt be waiting to make you both breakfast on his morning off. 

Like he said, you had all the Munson boys charmed.

[wolvietxt]

💭 thinking about…

𝗅𝗈𝗀𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝗈𝗐𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗍 𝖺𝗉𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗋𝗀𝗎𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍!

pairing : logan howlett x fem!reader warnings : argument, logan shouts at reader over something insignificant, hurt / comfort, ANGST, fluff, happy ending  word count : 2.4k

logan had been on edge for weeks now. everything seemed to be going wrong, one thing after another. his mission plan was falling apart, charles was breathing down his neck, and it felt like no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t catch a break. the stress was eating at him, wearing him down little by little until it felt like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

you’d noticed the change in him - how he seemed quieter, more distant, his temper flaring up over the smallest things. you tried to help where you could, offering him a shoulder to lean on, giving him space when he needed it, but nothing seemed to work. logan was like a tightly wound spring, ready to snap at any moment.

today had been the worst of all. logan’s day started with a series of frustrating conversations that left him feeling like he was running in circles. every task seemed to come with a new problem, and by the time he left work, he was fuming. his hands clenched into fists as he drove home, his mind racing with everything that had gone wrong. all he wanted was to come home, find some peace, and forget about the day. but even that was too much to ask.

when he walked through the door, he immediately noticed that the kitchen was spotless - so spotless, in fact, that his papers, the ones he’d left scattered across the table, were missing. he felt a surge of irritation. you had been on a cleaning spree, trying to make the house more comfortable for him, but in doing so, you’d moved around some of his blueprints. the ones he needed. the ones he hadn’t had time to organise properly.

“where are my papers?” logan’s voice was tight as he scanned the kitchen, looking for the documents that were now nowhere to be seen.

you looked up from where you were organising the bookshelf, smiling a little at him. “oh, i moved them to the study so you’d have more space. i thought - ”

“you thought?” logan cut you off, his voice rising. “why would you move my stuff without asking me?”

you blinked, caught off guard by the sharpness in his tone. “i just wanted to help. i know you’ve been stressed, and i thought having a clean space might - ”

“a clean space?” logan’s laugh was harsh, bitter. “i don’t need a clean space, i need my work to not be messed with! do you have any idea how much shit i’ve been dealing with lately? and now this - this is the last thing i need!”

he was shouting now, the frustration of the past few weeks boiling over. every little thing that had gone wrong, every setback, every sleepless night - it all came out in a torrent of anger directed at you. 

“logan, i didn’t mean to make things worse…” you tried to explain, but he wasn’t listening. he was too far gone, too wrapped up in his own frustration to hear the hurt in your voice.

“you never think, do you? you just do whatever you want, and now i’m the one who has to deal with the consequences! i’m sick of this! i’m sick of everything always going wrong, and now you’re just adding to it!”

his words cut through you like a knife. you hadn’t meant to make things worse, you 

were just trying to help, but the way he was yelling at you, the anger in his voice - it was too much. your chest tightened, and you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes, but you tried to hold them back. 

“logan, please… i’m sorry, i just wanted to make things easier for you,” you said, your voice trembling.

“easier? easier for me?” he snapped, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “well, congratulations, because you’ve done the exact opposite! now i have to waste even more time finding everything you moved, and i’m already drowning here!”

the tears you’d been trying so hard to hold back finally spilled over. you tried to wipe them away quickly, but logan was still shouting, too caught up in his own anger to notice.

“why can’t you just leave things the way they are? why do you always have to interfere? it’s like you don’t even care how much pressure i’m under! do you even care about anything besides what you want?”

his words were like a punch to the gut, and you couldn’t hold it in any longer. a sob escaped your lips, loud and broken, and it stopped logan in his tracks. the sound cut through his anger like a knife, and suddenly, the room was silent. 

he stared at you, his chest heaving as he tried to process what was happening. you were crying - no, you were sobbing, and it hit him like a ton of bricks. all the anger, all the frustration that had been driving him just moments ago, drained away, leaving him feeling hollow and ashamed.

“y/n…” he started, his voice shaky now, all the sharp edges gone. “shit, i didn’t mean…”

but you couldn’t stop crying, the weight of his words crashing down on you all at once. you hadn’t realised just how much stress he’d been under, how deeply it had been affecting him, and now it felt like you’d only made everything worse.

logan stepped closer, his hands reaching out, but he hesitated. he didn’t know how to fix this - how to take back the things he’d said, the hurt he’d caused. “hey, hey… please don’t cry. i’m sorry, i didn’t… i didn’t mean any of that.”

his hands were trembling as he finally pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest. he could feel your sobs wracking your body, and it broke something inside him. how could he have been so blind? so stupid? 

“i’m so fucking sorry,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “i’m an idiot, and i let all this shit get to me, and i took it out on you. you didn’t deserve any of that.”

you clung to him, your fingers digging into his shirt as you tried to calm down. his arms were strong around you, holding you like you were the only thing anchoring him to reality. and maybe, in that moment, you were.

logan pressed his lips to the top of your head, murmuring apologies over and over, his voice thick with regret. “i’m sorry… i’m so fucking sorry… please, y/n, don’t cry. i hate seeing you like this.”

you wanted to tell him that it was okay, that you understood, but the words were stuck in your throat. instead, you just held onto him, letting him hold you, letting his presence calm the storm inside you.

it took a while for your sobs to finally subside, and when they did, you felt exhausted, like all the fight had been drained out of you. but logan didn’t let go - he just held you tighter, like he was afraid that if he let go, you’d slip away.

“i’ve been such a fucking mess lately,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “everything’s been going wrong, and i didn’t know how to deal with it. i’ve been pushing you away, taking it out on you, and that’s not fair. it’s not fair to you, and it’s not fair to us.”

you nodded against his chest, your fingers still gripping his shirt. “i just wanted to help… i hate seeing you like this. it feels like you’re slipping away from me, and i don’t know how to bring you back.”

logan’s heart clenched at your words. he hadn’t realised how much his behaviour had been affecting you, how much you’d been carrying on your own. he felt a fresh wave of guilt wash over him, and he held you even tighter.

“y’re not losing me,” he said firmly, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. his thumb gently brushed away the tears on your cheeks, his touch soft, careful. “i promise you, you’re not losing me. i’ve just been so caught up in my own shit that i forgot what really matters.”

you searched his eyes, looking for the truth in his words, and you found it there - clear and unwavering. he was still here, still the man you loved, even if he’d lost his way for a while.

“i’m not going anywhere,” he continued, his voice steady now, a promise in every word. “we’re going to get through this. together.”

you nodded, a small, shaky smile forming on your lips. “yeah.”

logan leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “i love you,” he whispered, his voice filled with all the emotion he’d been holding back for weeks. “i love you so much. and i’m going to do better, i can fuckin’ promise you that, bub.”

you closed your eyes, letting his words wash over you, feeling the truth in them. you knew it wouldn’t be easy - logan was stubborn, and he had a lot to work through - but you also knew that he meant every word. he loved you, and that was enough.

“i love you too,” you whispered back, your voice soft but steady. 

logan’s lips found yours in a gentle, lingering kiss, one that spoke of apologies and promises of love and commitment. when he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours again, his eyes closed as he took a deep breath. logan smiled - a real, genuine smile that you hadn’t seen in what felt like forever. 

the two of you stayed like that for a while longer, just holding each other, finding comfort in the closeness. the argument, the hurt, the tears - they were all still there, but they didn’t feel as overwhelming now. you both knew there was work to be done, but for the first time in weeks, it felt like you were on the same page, like you could actually do this.

when logan finally pulled away, he took your hand and led you to the couch, where the two of you sat down together. his arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you close to his side, and you leaned into him, resting your head on his chest.

“tell me what’s been going on,” you said softly, wanting to understand what had been eating at him for so long. “i want to help, logan. i don’t want you to go through this alone.”

logan let out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair as he tried to find the right words. “it’s just been one thing after another. work’s been a nightmare. nothing’s going right, and scott is on my case constantly. every day, it feels like i’m just… barely keeping my head above water. and then i come home, and i don’t want to burden you with all of this, but it’s just… it’s been too much.”

you listened quietly, letting him talk, letting him get it all out. you could hear the exhaustion in his voice, the frustration, the weight he’d been carrying for so long. it broke your heart to know he’d been dealing with all of this on his own, and you hadn’t even realised how bad it had gotten.

“logan,” you said softly when he finished, your voice filled with compassion. “you don’t have to carry this by yourself. i’m here, and i want to help. we’re a team, remember?”

logan nodded, his eyes closing as he rested his head back against the couch. “i know. i just… i didn’t want to unload all of this on you. i didn’t want to worry you.”

“but i was already worried,” you pointed out gently. “because i could see that something was wrong, and you weren’t talking to me about it. that’s what scared me the most - not knowing what was going on in your head.”

logan’s grip on your hand tightened, and he turned to look at you, his eyes filled with regret. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to shut you out. i just… didn’t know how to talk about it. i didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“logan, you don’t have to be perfect,” you said, your voice firm but loving. “i love you for who you are, flaws and all. and if you’re struggling, i want to know. i want to be there for you, just like you’ve always been there for me.”

logan’s expression softened, and he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead. “i don’t deserve you,” he murmured against your skin. “but i’m so fucking grateful that you’re here.”

you smiled, wrapping your arms around him and holding him close. “you deserve all the love in the world, logan. and i’m not going anywhere. we’ll figure this out, one step at a time.”

logan nodded, his heart swelling with emotion. he knew he was lucky to have you, and he was determined to do better - to be better. for you, and for himself.

the two of you spent the rest of the evening talking, really talking, about everything that had been weighing on logan’s mind. it wasn’t easy, but it was necessary, and by the end of the night, you both felt a sense of relief that had been missing for far too long.

logan knew he still had a lot to work through, but he also knew that he wasn’t alone. you were by his side, ready to face whatever challenges came your way. and for the first time in weeks, he felt like he could finally breathe again.

as you both drifted off to sleep that night, wrapped up in each other’s arms, logan made a silent promise to himself: he would never take you for granted again. you were his rock, his safe haven, and he was going to do everything in his power to make sure you knew just how much you meant to him.

because at the end of the day, no matter how tough things got, you were the one thing in his life that he couldn’t afford to lose. and he would do whatever it took to keep you by his side, now and always.

[lavenderspence]

Cute, Outraged Genius | S.R.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Content warning: fluff, Spencer being a bit of a technophobe

Word Count: 1.5K

Summary: Spencer comes home only to find you using a kindle…instant outrage

A/N: This is just a cute little story about Spencer being our little technophobe genius. I actually don’t own a kindle, so don’t know how those work or anything, but physical books are in fact superior, so.

The quote at the end is from “Book Lovers” by Emily Henry

masterlist

You loved his apartment, sometimes more than you loved yours. Being in his space, surrounded by his things - his books, his clothes, the silly art he indulged in. Being drowned by his scent, meters upon meters of space he’d touched, it soothed you like nothing else could.

The peace you felt whenever you were in his space was unparalleled.

You loved his bedroom, the plushness of his bed, his closed, where you found yourself stealing his shirts and cardigans, never giving them back. 

Your favorite place in apartment 23 was his couch, where he found you often enough, when he returned from a case, curled up with a book. You loved the blanket thrown on the back and the windows that allowed for the whole apartment to light up with the sunlight. 

And then there were his bookshelves, in clear view from said couch. Filled with his favorite books, special editions he held close to his heart, or some that brought him knowledge. The shelves, that now also held some of your favorite books too.

Reading, books, was the thing that had brought you together in the first place, so when he’d made space for your clothes in his closet and your toiletries in the bathroom, he’d also made space for your books to sit beside his own. 

He’d insisted it made the place feel less like it was his own, and more like it was shared, even though you weren’t living together. It warmed your heart to know, that he saw his apartment as a home for both of you.

Seeing your books among his own, made you fall even more in love with him because he knew what they meant to you. So much so, he tumbed through a few, leaving sticky notes with his little thoughts between the pages.

As for your first meeting, it was funny.

You’d met a year ago, at a cafe close to his apartment. Stuck in a long queue, waiting for your turn, your nose had been buried into a book, completely oblivious to your surroundings. Spencer had been standing behind you, and like the nosy dork he is, had been reading along with you, over your shoulder.

When he’d pointed out an inaccuracy in the plot, compared to real life, you’d screamed, slamming the book shut, and successfully making a fool of yourself in front of the whole cafe. 

He’d apologized bashfully, and asked to buy your drink for you, and then lingered for a short conversation before he’d been called away on a case. 

In his hurry to get to the FBI on time, he’d forgotten to take your number. Two weeks later, and after a lot of blaming himself for being a dumbass, he’d seen you again, nose buried into another book, sipping a beverage next to the window of the cafe. 

You hadn’t attached puzzling looks this time, and he’d gotten your number. A year later, you couldn’t be more happy for the fact that your boyfriend sometimes didn’t really get social cues.

You smiled, thinking back on that day. 

You focused on your book again, eyes dancing around the page, following with rapt attention. 

Reading was one of the few things that brought you peace, quieted your brain, and improved your mood. 

Sometimes you envied Spencer’s genius, being able to go through War & Peace at breakfast, without batting an eye. Reading, and reading, and still having the time for other things. If, in your lifetime, you could read as many books as Spencer had read thus far in life, you’d be happy. 

You were giggling, kicking your feet, and enjoying your book, when you heard the telltale sign of Spencer arriving home - his key being inserted into the lock. 

You didn’t move your eyes away from the book, having reached a great part of the book. 

The door opened, and in walked your boyfriend, a peep in his step, happy he’d get to see you and spend time with you after 6 days of being away. 

He left his keys in the bowl next to the door, freed himself of his shoes, and set his messenger bag down. 

He walked further in, noticing the vanilla and chocolate scent in the air - you’d followed tradition, baking a small tray of chocolate chip cookies as a welcome for him. 

He stood behind you, draping his hands around your neck, and leaned over to kiss the side of your head gently, finally diverting your attention away from the book. 

“Hello, sweetheart,” he murmured, warm breath tickling your neck next, as he kissed around your ear and pulse point. 

“Hi there, babe.” you were whispering too, finally happy to be in your own bubble. “How are you? How was the case?” you asked, just like you did every time, just like you did every day. You always wanted to know how he was, you wanted to know about his day, and he’d gotten so used to it and had done it so many times for you too, it had become routine, a way to show each other you cared and loved each other. 

“I’m good, a little tired maybe,” he nuzzled your neck, eyes shut in contentment, “The case was tough, but successfully closed at the end,” he rarely elaborated, only if someone was hurt, or the case had taken a toll on his mental health. Other than that, he didn’t like bringing the gory details of the cases home with him. 

Home was his space with you, where you laughed, and sometimes cried. Where you cuddled and made love, read together, or to each other, where you cooked, where you relaxed. It was no place for the realities of a BAU profiler. 

“What are you doing?” it was a simple question. 

“I’m reading,” and there was an even simpler answer, except if you were Spencer Reid, a doctor with three PhDs, three bachelor’s degrees, an FBI agent, and a complete, and utter technophobe. 

You felt him lift his head before he choked out a high-pitched “You’re what?” and you turned around to see him, shock and betrayal written on his face, his eyes as big as saucers. 

You looked at him like he’d grown two heads, but you knew you should have expected this. 

You’d made the decision to get a kindle last week, and you’d used the time he hadn’t been home to set it up and try it out. 

“What are you even reading on that thing? That’s not a book!” he was outraged, but at the same time, he looked so cute, that you started laughing. You brought a hand to your mouth, in hopes of muffling the sound a little because you were losing it, laughing with everything you had. 

“Stop laughing, it’s not funny. I’m serious.” you just laughed harder, even though you tried to reign it in and stop. 

Around a minute later, your laughter started dying down, and you looked up, only to see him with his arms crossed against his chest, an expression between bewilderment, and those deep brown puppy eyes staring straight into your soul.

“It’s a kindle, Spence, it’s all digital,” you told him

“No, I know that, but you can’t be serious,” your brows furrowed, a bit butt hurt, until he continued, “You know, readers prefer physical books. A recent study found that only 21% prefer e-books, as little as 14% audiobooks, and 65% are physical book readers. Another study found that your brain absorbs less when you read on a kindle than on paper.” You laughed again, loving his brain, and then patted the space next to you, waiting for him to sit down.

“I thought you were pro saving the planet Mr. Three PHD’s.” you joked, waiting for him to sass you back. After all, one of your favorite characteristics of his was how sassy he was. 

“Well, yes I am, but statistically, physical copies are superior. A book needs to be physical, not whatever bullshit that is. Come on, let’s just return this, and I’ll buy you all the books you want,” he went to stand up, and you pulled him back down by the back of his shirt. 

“Aww babe, I know you will!” Spencer loved buying some of your books for you, he loved seeing the smile on your face when he bought a book you’ve wanted for a while. You buried your face into his neck, hugging him to you. 

“Come on, let’s cuddle before dinner, get a cookie, and I’ll read to you for a bit, I just reached a good part,” you whisper into his neck, and he exhales, reaching towards the coffee table to get a cookie before you relax into each other, and you pick up the kindle, reading where you left off. 

“We really are two opposing magnets, incapable of being in the same room without drawing together. I want to scrape my fingers through his hair and kiss him until he forgets where we are, and everything and everyone that ever made him feel like he was a disappointment. And he’s looking at me like I could, like there’s an ache in him only I could soothe.” you read, hand running through his hair, happy to have him back.

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

[nadvs]

home before dark (part three)

pairing rafe cameron x kook! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary as children, you and rafe were best friends, but then tragedy suddenly struck his family and he shut everybody out. years later, you need his help when a pushy ex-boyfriend won’t leave you alone. rafe is perfect for the job because everybody’s afraid of him. except for you.

content warnings stalker ex, violence, substance abuse, death and mourning of parent

» masterlist

· · ── ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ── · ·

Rafe is sitting in a chair in the front room of your home, his chin resting on his hand, hardly paying any attention to the sitcom playing on the tv screen.

He’s pissed off. Why did it have to storm tonight of all nights, when he doesn’t have anything to numb the pain, nothing to drown out the sound of the rain drumming on the windows?

In his haste, he didn’t pack any coke before coming here. He didn’t think he’d need it this bad.

And that photo he saw upstairs. It’s making everything so much fucking worse.

This is how the world repays him for helping someone. Figures. He’s used to having shit luck. Trying to make his own father love him has been a losing game, and he’s been at that for years, so why would anything else go his way?

“Hey.” Rafe straightens when he hears you. You look into the room. “Did the thunder wake you up, too?”

He hasn’t slept at all. But he nods.

There’s a blankness in his stare, the tv casting dull colors over his face. He didn’t bother to turn the light on.

You cross the room, hazy from your interrupted sleep, and settle on the couch. You’re far away from him, acting like you’ve never touched, even though you were just pressed against each other on his motorcycle.

You wonder if it felt nice to him, too. Or if you were just extra weight on his bike, an irritating responsibility he was cornered into taking on.

“Do you have any booze around here?” Rafe mutters. You catch the desolation in his tone.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

You instantly feel ridiculous for expecting you won’t be met with the cold shoulder. You doubt he’ll answer. But then, because the world must be off its axis, he does.

“Fucking hate this weather,” he says.

His words make a chill sink into your bones. You remember your father telling you the news years ago after he got the phone call. A torrential downpour. The freeway. Zero visibility.

Anne lost control of her car.

By the look on your dad’s face, you knew what that meant. Rafe’s mother didn’t survive the wreck.

He doesn’t have to say it. You know that’s why he hates storms.

“I can distract you,” you offer, “if you want?”

It was something you did as kids. Rafe would be angry or sad or hurt or anything and you’d talk his ear off about whatever you could think of until the dark cloud hanging over him drifted away.

His feelings always felt too big for him. You were the best at making them small enough to manage.

Rafe is used to wanting to be left alone. But not right now. Not if he can be with you. Admitting it feels impossible. The wall he spent years building around himself is solid from both sides.

“It’s your house,” he finally says. “Do what you want.”

You take it an invitation to stay. You turn your attention to the tv, as if holding eye contact with him will make him take it back.

It gives him a chance to look at you. How the fuck have you not lost patience with him yet? Why do you still care?

“I keep wanting to ask why you’re helping me,” you say, just loud enough to be heard over the tv.

Rafe exhales sharply, rubbing his forehead.

“This is you distracting me,” he scoffs. “Aren’t you supposed to do the talking?”

The fact that he’s expecting you to replicate the days of your youth gives you a sliver of hope that maybe he misses them, too.

“There has to be a reason you’re doing it,” you murmur.

“Can’t you just be happy that I am?” he responds. A white flash of lighting pools into the room for a split second.

“No,” you say. Finally, he gives in.

“Because I…” he begins.

The noise from the show is adding to the frustrating confusion engulfing him. He angrily picks up the remote and turns the tv off, plunging both of you in darkness.

You turn your head towards him again, only able to make out the hard outline of his jaw.

“I always had to look out for you,” he says. “I guess I still do.”

You look down at your lap, taken aback that Rafe holds any sense of loyalty for you.

You almost want to remind him of what he said earlier, that you’re not kids anymore, but you don’t want to challenge him.

“And I don’t know why,” he adds, voice thin, “but you’re not a dick to me like everyone else is, so I kind of owe you.”

All you can hear is your own breathing and the ticking of the clock in the foyer and the tap of faltering raindrops. The storm is passing.

“It’s because you didn’t do anything wrong,” you say into the silence. “It’s not like you did something to make me hate you. You shut me out, but I get why.”

Your words reverberate through him. He wonders if you think that he hates you.

Still, you could have gone to any other guy and asked him to pretend to be your boyfriend.

“Why’d you come to me?” he asks.

“Because he’s scared of you.” You don’t have to nor do you want to say your ex’s name.

“And you’re not?”

“No.” You tilt your head. “We used to be best friends.”

You say it like he wouldn’t remember. He couldn’t erase it from his brain if he tried. And he has.

The heaviness of all this is suffocating to him. The past is done. There’s no point in digging up things that’ll just hurt him all over again.

He stands up, chasing out the familiarity that was slowly growing between you. But before he leaves the room, he pauses, pinching the bridge of his nose with trembling fingers.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, either, alright?” Rafe says into the dark, irritated, answering the question you asked him on the shoreline hours ago. “Not on purpose.”

As his shadow retreats, the words he left you with ring in your head. He doesn’t blame you. But you did do something wrong.

Rafe had his head buried into his pillow, throat burning from crying through his grief, every night for months.

As he lies in an unfamiliar bed all for a girl whose very existence makes him feel a multitude of good and bad all at once, he’s thrown back into those days, as if he’s a boy again.

His mother used to tell him it was a strength to be so sensitive, but her voice faded and his father’s voice got so much louder. What he tells him every time Rafe can’t swallow down the tears echoes in his mind. Toughen up. You’re fine.

But he’s not fine. He can’t stop crying and he knows he has to tell you he can’t do this anymore. Being with you brings back too much.

But the next morning, when Rafe finds you sitting at the kitchen island, wearing your pajamas and a smile, the prospect of ending this is tossed away.

You have access to him that nobody else does. You and that damn smile are a weakness that he didn’t know he had. And while he can act happy and careless around everyone else, he can’t put on an act for you. Ever.

“How’d you sleep?” you ask. Your hands are cupping a mug, your phone sitting beside it.

“Like shit,” Rafe replies, pacing to the fridge. “Took hours to fall asleep.”

You feel guilty that he didn’t have a good rest, considering he’s only here because you were too frightened to be alone.

“You?” he says after a beat. The ice must be melting if he’s actually asking about you for once.

“My sleep was good,” you reply. “It helped having you here.”

Rafe’s cheeks get warm. Someone actually wanting him around is a foreign feeling.

By the time your conversation was over last night, the rain and thunder had dwindled. It couldn’t have been the storm keeping him awake. Curiosity pushes you to figure it out.

“Was the bed uncomfortable?” you ask.

“No,” he answers. He finds a glass and fills it with water. His throat still hurts from crying last night.

You watch him, his presence commanding as he leans back against the counter opposite you. The dark, shallow bags beneath his eyes are illuminated in the bright lights above you. He looks exhausted.

“Was the room too warm? Or too cold?” you say.

“Can you relax?” Rafe huffs, his tone almost playful.

He isn’t about to admit that he can’t remember the last time he fell asleep sober. And he’s definitely not going to tell you that the last thing he thought about before finally passing out was that his cheeks burned from how hard he was wiping his tears away.

“The least I can do is make sure you’re comfortable since I made you stay the night,” you say.

His brows furrow as he takes a long gulp, tipping his head back.

“Nobody can make me do anything,” he replies once he downs the water. You know it’s the truth. It makes the fact that he’s doing this for you all the more meaningful.

Before you can respond, your phone buzzes loudly on the countertop. Rafe sees your face fall when your eyes drop to the screen. You read the notification for a moment, then sigh and shake your head.

“He emailed me,” you say incredulously. “I blocked him on everything and he emailed me.”

Rafe leans over to see if you’ll let him look for himself. You slide your phone towards him and he picks it up to read Ty’s message.

What you have with him isn’t real. We both know it. Let me prove that I can treat you how you deserve. Please. I’m sorry for everything. I love you.

A part of Rafe is concerned you’ll fall for it.

“What’re you gonna do?” he asks.

“Block him there, too,” you mutter. “He does this. He’s mean, then he pretends like he changed, then he’s mean again… It’s the same bullshit over and over.”

Rafe blocks him for you and places your phone on the counter. You bite the inside of your cheek as the dread you always feel when Ty contacts you floods your every sense.

The despair on your face makes Rafe’s stomach sink. The next time he sees Ty, he’s beating the shit out of him.

“He’ll stop, okay? I’ll make him,” he says.

You’re still skeptical. Rafe definitely scares him, but Ty called him a bullshit rebound last night. He wrote that what you have with Rafe isn’t real. You’re not fooling him. And you’re afraid he won’t leave you alone until he believes you’re actually in a new relationship now.

“Yeah.” You exhale slowly. “Doesn’t sound like he’s falling for this, though.” You motion between you and him.

Rafe has to take a moment to catch your meaning. Falling for this. Your pretend relationship. Right.

“I didn’t tell anyone it’s fake,” you say, afraid it somehow got out. “Did you?”

Rafe shakes his head no and puts his empty glass in the sink. He scratches the back of his neck and looks at you again.

“Do you want me to keep crashing here until your mom and dad get back?” he asks.

You hate that your mind goes there, but you wonder when the last time he said mom out loud was. You shake away the thought.

“Not if you can’t get any actual sleep,” you respond.

Rafe typically gets irritated when someone can’t make up their mind. He wants everything done quickly, so he doesn’t have to stop and think.

But this is you and even though you’re scared of sleeping on your own, you’re considering how staying here affects Rafe and it gives him a heavy feeling of shame. He spent years avoiding the only person who never abandoned him. The only person who still gives a shit.

“I’ll just leave my stuff here,” he says, making the decision for you.

“Thank you.” You mean it. The thought of someone being here with you is comforting.

As usual, Rafe ends the conversation quickly and abruptly, leaving the room. You soon hear the engine of his motorcycle rattling loudly from outside, the roar fading as he drives away.

You hoped that he’d at least want to hang out with you now. You don’t understand why you keep expecting more from him. It just hurts you every time.

You don’t hear from Ty for the rest of the day. You manage to run some errands without worrying you’ll see him because even when Rafe isn’t with you, you don’t feel as scared knowing he’s in your corner.

The days of the week mean practically nothing on the north side of the island over the summer. There’s a party almost every night, this time at a house just down the street from you.

You invite your friends to your place, drinking as you get ready, deciding to walk over to the party. You turn up already tipsy, finding yourself looking for Rafe even though you know you should only really be doing that if Ty is bothering you.

When you walk into the loud, crowded house, seeing you reminds Rafe of why he isn’t smoking or drinking or snorting anything tonight.

He’s had countless fights while wasted, but he wants to have a clear mind when he sees Ty. He needs to make the fucker pay and not give him a chance to get even one punch in.

You meet Rafe’s blue eyes every so often throughout the night, glad you’re finally able to have fun again because you know he’s keeping you safe.

The second Ty walks in, even though he hasn’t come close to approaching you, you make your way to Rafe.

You stand close to him, placing your hand in his, acting like a girlfriend to someone who is only doing this because he feels an overdue sense of loyalty to you.

Rafe stills for a moment before he laces his fingers with yours. His skin is hot, making your heart flutter in a way you know it shouldn’t.

“Hey,” you say over the music. His ring presses against your thumb.

“Hey,” he says tensely. He’s not used to affection, especially in front of people.

But this is what he signed up for. He needs to act like a boyfriend and he’s not going to fuck this up. It’s the first real responsibility he’s had that he actually gives a shit about.

His eyes land on Ty and his plan to confront him takes a backseat when he realizes he doesn’t want to let go of you. Right now, he’d rather have his hand in yours instead of using it to throw a punch. It’s like every touch you give him leaves a heavier impact than the last.

You immediately notice how tense Rafe is.

“Can you relax?” you joke, imitating the way he said it this morning. Your heart warms when his dimples appear, framing a smile he can’t stifle.

“I don’t sound like that,” he says.

“You sound exactly like that,” you reply with a laugh, picturing how tired he looked in your kitchen. “Please tell me you got some sleep today.”

Again, the concern you seem to have never lost for him appears.

“I did,” he says. He crashed in his bed the second he got home.

“How come it took you so long to fall asleep last night?”

Rafe’s knee-jerk reaction is to avoid the question. Especially if it’s you asking. But he can’t forget how shitty it felt when you brushed him off last night at the beach, so he pushes himself to answer.

“Just, uh…” He looks away. “Couldn’t turn off my brain.”

You gaze up at him. It almost aches, how badly you’d love to know what goes through his mind.

“When did this start?” one of his friends amusedly asks, pointing between you two. You notice Ty close by, his gaze sharp as he eavesdrops. Rafe notices him, too.

You squeeze Rafe’s hand tighter, clinging to him. He notices that his entire body buzzes when you do that.

“What, was I supposed to call you?” Rafe responds.

“I’m just saying,” his friend replies with a laugh, “it’s like all of a sudden, you got a girl out of nowhere.”

Alarm stings every inch of your skin when you notice Ty’s posture straighten in your peripheral.

“Don’t sound so surprised, asshole,” Rafe replies lightheartedly, gently pulling his hand out of your grasp to drape his heavy arm around your shoulders, pulling you flush against him.

You follow his lead, wrapping your arms around his torso. The relief from how well he played it off and the comfort you get from how he’s holding you is overwhelming.

Rafe dips his head to speak into your ear, his cheek brushing against yours, his cologne fresh.

“Think he’s falling for it now?” he mumbles, voice lowering an octave. With the way he’s holding you, you might fall for it yourself.

“Yeah,” you breathe. You squeeze him tighter, not for show, but because you want to. You’ve wanted to hug him since the funeral, when he was a boy with bloodshot eyes in a crumpled black suit, but he never let you get this close.

He brings his other hand up to your face, cradling your jaw, his thumb rubbing over your cheek. His touch is so tender that you have to remind yourself it’s Rafe doing this.

You’re suspended, bodies curved together, cheeks brushing, like you’re playing a game to see who’ll let go first.

“And he’s staying away from you, right?” His breath is warm against the shell of your ear.

You nod, at a loss for words.

“Is he watching?” he asks. You can see from the corner of your eye that your ex is staring right at you.

“Mhm,” you hum with a nod.

At this point, Rafe is being selfish. This is close enough. You wanted him to act like you’re a couple and he’s done it. He can pull away now. Maybe he should keep his arm around you for a little longer, but he doesn’t need to be this close.

Instead, he lowers to press his lips against your cheek and you hug him tighter, and fuck, it feels so good that he misses it before it’s even over.

He can’t believe that his body yearns to be this close to you. You opened up the floodgates the second you put your hand on him the first time a couple of nights ago. How good would it feel if you were doing it for real?

You lean into his kiss. His lips are so soft. You wish you could feel them against yours. It’s all to make everyone think you’re actually together. You keep telling yourself that.

When your arms around him weaken just a little, you feel something at his back, protruding against your forearm.

Your eyebrows draw together as you pull back only a few inches to meet Rafe’s eyes, your mind going to the worst possible scenario. Your breath catches. It’s a weapon.

“What is that?” you ask quietly, nudging against the hard item tucked into the band of his jeans.

“What do you think?”

“Rafe,” you say. His jaw tightens. The moment is gone. The wall is back up. Your tone teeters on a thin edge, like you’re judging him.

“You’re surprised the psycho owns a gun?” he scoffs.

He didn’t brush off what Ty said like you thought he did. It makes your stomach turn that your ex’s lie actually stuck with Rafe.

You glance over to see Ty’s back as he storms out of the room. Part of you is relieved, but right now, you mostly feel anxious that Rafe believes a lie.

“I never called you that,” you reiterate to him quietly. “I’ve never said anything bad about you. You think you can trust what he says?”

“I’m not planning on using it on him, okay?” Rafe snaps. “Unless he asks for it.”

He wishes you didn’t notice it. If you didn’t think he was fucked up before, you do now. He’s pissed off and embarrassed and disappointed all at once.

You’ve been trying to reconnect with him for so long. If he gives in, you’ll see that he’s not even close to who he was when you knew him. He’ll just let you down.

He realizes he hasn’t kept his distance only because you’re a painful reminder of a time he wants to forget. It’s also because he’s sure you wouldn’t like who he’s become. And he can’t take the rejection.

You’re still, unable to believe that he actually has a gun. That he would use it. That these are the lengths he’s going to to keep you safe.

You haven’t lost contact with him, but Rafe checks out of the moment and pulls his arm away.

“He’s gone now,” he mutters. You get the message. He’s done pretending. You drop your arms and find your friends again.

Hours later, the party is dwindling, but far from over. Rafe has been sober the entire time, making him all the more antsy and irritable.

He thought he’d beat the shit out of Ty tonight, but he’s exhausted and he can’t stop shaking. Why the hell is he shaking?

Rafe loses his patience and approaches you while you’re dancing with your friends.

“Let’s go,” he says, holding your hand. The contact makes your head spin all over again. Even though you’d like to stay, you comply.

You notice Ty’s eyes on you when you leave. He’s pretending to be a good guy again, keeping his distance, but you know it’s only a matter of time before he cracks.

Once you reach Rafe’s motorcycle in the cool night air, he hands you his helmet and you take it without hesitation.

After the short drive, you walk up the steps to your front door together. But you soon stop in your tracks, eyes wide as you stare at the ground.

Rafe follows your eye line. Mud’s been tracked onto the porch in fragmented footprints.

“I can’t… I can’t remember if that was there before,” you stammer. “Did you see it this morning?”

“I don’t know,” he responds. He rushed out of here too quickly to have noticed something like that.

You look around, as if you can find an answer in the darkness surrounding your home. You would have noticed it after you ran your errands earlier today. Probably. Maybe.

It could have been you. Or Rafe. Or one of your friends.

Or Ty. He didn’t arrive at the party until late into the night. Could he have been creeping around your house? Why would he?

Rafe glances up to confirm that there aren’t any cameras aiming at the door. It pisses him off when he notices there aren’t any cameras at all. He quickly catches on that your breathing has grown faster.

“Come on,” he says, gently pulling you by the crook of your elbow. “Let’s go inside. It’s nothing.”

He doesn’t believe his own words, but there’s no reason to scare you any further.

“What if he was here?” you say, letting Rafe pull you to the door. He takes the key out of your hand and pushes it into the lock.

“Then I’ll shoot him,” he mutters.

“That’s not funny.”

“I wasn’t joking.”

The door swings open, prompting the security system to start beeping.

You flip on the light and enter the code as he shuts the door behind you. You’re so frightened and unnerved that you jam one of the buttons with the wrong finger, prompting a harsh error noise from the system.

“Can you do this?” you huff. You tell Rafe the five-digit code and he quickly enters it, arming the system again. You notice his hand is trembling.

“Are you okay?” you ask. You know it’s not from fear. Rafe isn’t afraid of anything. He must be high on something. “What’d you take?”

“Nothing,” he says with a humorless laugh. It dawns on him that his body is reacting to the lack of coke in his system. “That’s the problem.”

“What?” you ask.

Rafe sighs, double-checking that the front door is locked for your peace of mind.

“I can’t be wasted if that asshole tries me. I haven’t taken anything since last night,” he says. “But it just made shit worse.”

He realizes how messed up it sounds. How messed up it is that being sober for one night makes him shake like this. He has a problem. But he never really had a reason to get clean before now.

You watch Rafe checking the lock and like a riptide, everything crashes down on you at once.

The torment from Ty harassing you. The guilt from asking Rafe to take on this responsibility. The sadness from knowing that he’s only doing it because he feels a sense of obligation for you and wants nothing more.

“Bet you’re glad I have a gun now,” Rafe mutters. He turns to look at you, your expression grim. “What?”

“I don’t want to keep bothering you with this,” you admit, your heart racing with panic. “I don’t want you to have to sleep here and I don’t want you to have to drive me home all the time and… I hate that this is happening and that I had to drag you into it.”

His eyes travel over the anguish etched on your face.

“What, like it’s your fault he’s a piece of shit?” he says.

You chew on the inside of your cheek and look up to the ceiling, trying to keep your tears at bay. It’s still odd being alone with him, having him in your home.

Rafe hasn’t tried to make someone feel better in a long time. He hasn’t cared enough to. He takes a deep breath.

“I don’t mind doing this, alright?” he says.

“You don’t?” You take in the softness in his eyes that you don’t often see.

“Think I’d be here if I did?”

“I don’t know,” you say. “You used to do things you didn’t want to all the time for me.”

The Rafe that was your best friend always went along with whatever you wanted to play, wherever you wanted to go.

He grits his teeth, tearing his eyes off of you, trying not to think about how when he was a kid, if someone asked him who his favorite person was, he’d tell them that it was a tie between you and his mom.

“Don’t talk about how shit used to be,” he says quietly. And because he doesn’t want to see that hurt look on your face again, he adds, “Please.”

The mere prospect of talking about the past seems to actually give him pain. It dawns on you that you’re looking at a man who may have never processed what happened to him.

“Do you want something to eat?” you offer, changing the subject swiftly.

Rafe realizes he’s starving.

“Yeah,” he says.

A memory washes over you as Rafe sits at your kitchen counter, eating leftovers you heated up for him.

It was a humid summer day and you two were scarfing down the lunch his mother made for you after a morning of swimming behind his house.

Rafe always liked picking the wildflowers that grew in the grass that lined the beach for his mom. The ones he found that day were purple, sitting in a small vase she put in the center of the dining room table.

Every time he gave her a small bundle of uneven flowers, she had the same joyful reaction. Rafe always looked so proud of himself when she enthusiastically thanked her son.

It was just another happy day.

Until Ward came into the kitchen and like always, Rafe’s smile disappeared. Your best friend tended to shrink when his dad was around. Ward almost always found something to chide his son about. He never spoke like that to his daughters.

“Could you eat any faster?” Ward muttered. “Where are your manners?”

“Leave him alone, Ward,” Anne said with a sigh. His mother’s tone was only ever sharp when she was defending her little boy.

You remember watching her lean to kiss Rafe’s head, earning a small smile from him. Then she winked at you, trying to dismiss the tension from the room.

You wonder what Ward has said to Rafe ever since he lost the only person who stuck up for him.

You face the sink as you wash your hands, your back to Rafe, trying to stifle the tears that build as you imagine what the world would be like if the wreck never happened. Who would Rafe be if he never lost her? If a part of him didn’t die with her?

Is it crazy to think that you’d still be best friends, instead of two strangers pushed together in such an arduous situation? You miss her so much that it hurts and all this is yet another thing adding to the weight sitting on your shoulders.

Rafe hears you sniffle and when you finally turn around, you stare at the floor as you try to rush away.

“What is it?” he asks. Is he already failing at making you feel safe?

You freeze. You can’t tell him what’s really bothering you. Especially since he asked you not to talk about your memories.

“I’m just freaked out.” It’s not exactly what you’re thinking of now, but it’s true. This mess with Ty is a nightmare. “If he was really creeping around here… Ugh, I don’t know what he’s going to do next.”

Rafe chews slower as he observes you through narrow eyes. He’s no stranger to the pain of crying to sleep. He doesn’t want that for you.

You notice his hands are still trembling. You have no idea how often he does coke, but it must be an addiction if one night without it makes his body react like this.

“What else do you need?” he asks. It comes out sharper than he intended, like he’s asking what else you could possibly want from him after he’s given you so much.

Your lips thin as you stare at him from across the counter. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone look so miserable.

“Nothing,” you mutter. “Good night.”

You start to walk away but Rafe says your name to stop you and it sounds so good coming out of his mouth that your stomach numbs. When was the last time he said it?

You turn to look at him. His eyes dart down to his food.

“What if…” he begins, his fork loudly clattering against the dish. “Would it help if I slept in your room?”

You’re surprised. And soothed by the thought of him sleeping close by in case your ex does something as unhinged as break in.

Everyone else paints Rafe as rude and aggressive, but you knew it. You knew he still had some kindness in him.

“Yeah,” you say. “It would help.”

(part four)

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[nastybuckybarnes]

Cling to me

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Summary: You overhear something you weren’t meant to hear. 

Warnings: Angst, Language, Fluff, 

Word Count: 2.1k

A/n: wrote this one a year ago teehee but I LOVE this kinda shit I live for it. hope y’all enjoy 

~*~

“So things are going well, then?”

You shouldn’t be eavesdropping, you really shouldn’t. It was an accident.

You had approached the bathroom door to ask Steve for a towel, not wanting to drip water all over the carpeted hallway, when you heard him and Bucky talking.

The bathroom fan is on, drowning out the sound of you stepping closer to the wood.

“Well, yeah, I guess so. I mean... I guess.”

You frown.

You thought things were going great.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Steve lets out a heavy sigh and glances at the bathroom door then slightly lowers his voice, but you can still hear him clearly.

“She just... she’s real needy, Buck. She’s physically clingy, always sitting by me or on me and holding my hand and stuff... and she never leaves me alone when I’m out on assignments. I’m just... I need some space.”

Your heart stumbles in your chest for a moment before beating twice as hard, each beat smashing against pins and needles and sending pain radiating through your chest.

Too needy.

Steve thinks you’re too needy.

This is how it started with Jeremy.

You were too clingy.

Slowly, you back away from the bathroom door and slide down the wall, shivering at the wet droplets clinging to your skin, then put your face in your hands.

Steve won’t be like Jeremy. He can’t.

Everything will be fine, you just need to give him space.

You can almost hear Jeremy’s voice in your head, whispering words that he’d repeat when you were with him. But maybe he was right.

Just because you like being physical and spending time with him doesn’t mean he wants that too. You haven't even taken his wants into consideration.

A knock on the bathroom door startles your face out of your hands and you flip your head up, looking at the door with wide eyes.

“Honey? I’m just gonna go grab some drinks with Bucky and Sam. I’ve got my phone and I shouldn’t be home too late.”

You take a deep breath and nod even though he can’t see you.

“Okay, have fun!”

Your voice is a little duller than usual, a little less lively, but Steve chalks it up to the fan distorting your voice.

You stay rooted in place on the bathroom floor, knees hugged up to your chest, for hours.

You’re not sure why, whether it’s out of fear that he won’t come back or that he’ll be waiting out there to break up with you, but you’re terrified.

Eventually, after the chills have sunk into your soul and shivers are shaking your bones, you leave the bathroom and get dressed.

Usually, you’d put on a pair of panties and one of Steve’s shirts, but you can’t bring yourself to touch his stuff after what you heard.

You pull on a tank top and a sweater and your fuzziest socks, hoping to chase away the cold, though it feels like it’s here to stay.

The apartment seems so empty without him there, and you yearn to check up on him and make sure he’s okay, but you don’t go near your phone.

He’s a grown man and he can take care of himself.

You barricade yourself in the bedroom, cuddled up under the blankets and holding one of your pillows to your chest as you watch reruns of Golden Girls.

You fall asleep before he gets home, though you’re awoken by the sound of the door opening.

Instead of perking up and meeting him like you usually would, you stay in bed, pillow hugged to your chest and eyes shut.

He’s stealthy as he joins you in bed, sliding in behind you and wrapping an arm around your waist.

It takes everything in you not to shake his arm off.

As he leans forward and presses a kiss to the back of your neck, a tear slides down your temple and buries itself in the pillows.

~*~

Steve’s confused at your sudden change in behaviour, constantly checking his phone for texts from you and missing your touch when he sits on the couch reading a report.

You’re standing in the kitchen a few days later, talking softly to Yelena and Wanda while Bucky, Natasha, Sam and Steve all sit on the couches in your living room.

The two women lead the way into the living room and you follow them, not stopping your conversation as you take a seat between the two of them.

Steve’s eyes are focused on you, waiting for you to look at him, to realize that you’re not sitting in the right spot and that you should be closer to him, but you never do.

You stay engaged in your conversation, laughing at something Yelena says before turning your attention to Wanda.

Bucky watches curiously as Steve balls his hands into fists then turns back to the conversation he was having, his voice slightly more strained than before.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Bucky asks later that evening after almost everyone else has gone home.

You’re already in bed, oblivious to the conversation they’re having.

“I thought it was, but not cold turkey. She hardly texts me unless I text first, she doesn't kiss me goodbye anymore, and she hasn’t sat beside me once in the past week.”

Bucky shrugs, “you’re the one who said she was too clingy.”

Steve knows.

He fucking knows.

And maybe he’ll like it, but first, he needs to get to the bottom of why you’ve switched so quickly.

After bidding Bucky goodbye, Steve joins you in the bedroom, climbing into bed beside you and rolling onto his side to watch you.

Your attention is focused on the TV as if he isn’t in bed with you at all.

When he opens his mouth to speak, you reach over and turn off the lamp on the nightstand, then turn off the TV.

You don’t do it on purpose, but he doesn't say anything.

“Goodnight,” you whisper, turning onto your back and facing away from him.

He stares at you in shock.

The past couple of nights he’s come into bed after you’ve been asleep, but tonight he was sure you’d cuddle up against him like you usually do.

“Goodnight. I love you,” he murmurs, heart racing in his chest as he waits for your reply.

“I love you too.” There it is.

It settles his heart a tiny bit to hear you whisper the words, but he’s still confused by your actions.

You always cuddle up to him.

Always.

Every night that he’s been home for the past year.

And now you’re not even wearing his clothes to bed.

He can’t sleep at all that night, too focused on how strange you’ve been acting and how much he fucking hates it.

And then it dawns on him.

You must’ve heard him talking to Bucky.

That’s the only explanation.

His heart hurts in his chest and guilt floods his body. He tosses his head back against the pillows and squeezes his eyes shut, hating himself for ever speaking those stupid words.

He was just having a bad week. He was overwhelmed with work and briefings and then you were always by his side.

It was too much.

And now you’re doing everything in your power to distance yourself from him.

You’re lying in the same bed but you’ve never been further away.

Sure, he can feel the heat radiating off of your body, but you may as well be a thousand miles away.

The guilt wells up in his eyes and slips down his cheeks as he rolls onto his side and pulls you against his body, burying his face in your hair.

Fuck, he feels terrible.

All night he thinks about how much you do for him, how much you love him and everything you’ve given to him and sacrificed for him. And he couldn’t even appreciate you properly. No, he had to go and run his mouth about bullshit that he didn’t even mean.

He has to make this right.

He will.

He just has no idea where to start.

~*~

When you wake up the next morning there’s a strong arm secured around your waist.

You’re so used to waking up alone that you can’t help but cuddle into it. That is, until you remember his complaints.

Shifting as slowly as you can, you try to slip out of his grip, but he only wraps his arm around you tighter.

“You’re leaving?” He asks into your hair, his voice groggy.

You swallow hard and clear your throat.

“Bathroom,” is all you manage to whisper.

He lets out a heavy sigh but slowly unwinds his arm from around your waist.

“You’re gonna come back after, right?” He asks, his voice soft.

You hesitate before getting up, unsure of what to say.

Are you?

You don’t particularly want to.

Well, that’s not true. You want to, more than anything, but you don’t want to overwhelm him and smother him with your clingy nature.

“Do you want me to?” You end up asking, glancing over at him.

He slowly opens his eyes, sadness filling them, and you regret asking.

“Honey... what I said the other day... to Buck... I wasn’t thinking, sweetheart. I don’t think you’re too clingy, not at all. I think you’re perfect for me and the way that things have been lately… All the distance between us? It’s been unbearable. I hate it. I didn’t know what changed at first but... I’m sorry.”

Your heart is in your throat at the fact that he knows you heard what he said.

“I didn't mean to eavesdrop, I’m sorry,” you whisper, pushing into a seated position to get off the bed.

“Honey, wait. Please. Please, don’t go. I miss you. So damn much. All I want is for things to go back to the way they were. And... I know that will probably take time, but I just miss you so fucking much.”

Tears prickle at your eyes and you sniffle, refusing to look at him.

“I didn’t mean to be clingy. I know... I know I can be a lot. It’s one of the issues Jeremy and I had. I can give you space, Steve.”

His heart cracks and he sits up behind you, one hand finding your lower back in an attempt to get closer to you.

“Sweetheart, I don’t want space. You’ve given me space and it’s been the worst experience of my life. I just want you back. I want to hold your hand and kiss you and talk to you and be near you. I love you and you... you make me feel important. You make me feel loved.”

He has to fight his own tears as he speaks, and you sit silently in front of him, eyes focused on the carpet.

“For so much of my life, I felt alone, besides Bucky. I felt like I had no one and no one would love me. And then I went under and I woke up and... everything was different. I was a man out of time. I never thought I would ever have found someone who loves me as wholly as you do. And I’m sorry for ever making you feel like you need to change yourself.”

His arms wind around you and he pulls your back against his chest, slowly rocking you from side to side as you sniffle.

“You are everything I have ever wanted and more, sweetheart. I love you for everything you are and everything you do, and I’m so damn sorry I ever made you feel like you were too clingy. You’re perfect for me. Sometimes I think that you’re the reason why I survived it all. Was so that I could find you. You’re it for me.”

His words help to heal the wounds he caused, but what really does it is the meaning behind it. The love he’s pouring into every syllable he speaks is powerful enough for you to feel without even trying.

You know he regrets what he said. But, more importantly, you know he’s not Jeremy.

Steve loves you.

Slowly, you turn in his arms and look up at him, and his heart breaks even more when he sees the tears on your cheeks.

“If I’m ever too much, you gotta promise to let me know, okay?” You whisper.

He huffs out a weak laugh and shakes his head, squeezing you to his chest.

“You are never too much for me. You’re everything I could ever want or need and so much more. You’re perfect for me. And I’m gonna try my hardest to be good enough for you because I love you. I love you with my whole heart and soul.”

“I love you too, Steve,” you whisper, burying your face in his shoulder as he hugs you tightly.

And there on the bed in the dim morning light, Steve clings to you.

He clings to you like you’re his lifeline, like you’re the energy that keeps him going.

He clings to you, and he doesn’t plan on stopping anytime soon.

[tojicide]

SNIPER, SNIPER! ☆ LEON KENNEDY

summary. in leon’s line of work as a contract killer, weaknesses weren’t an option. luckily, he’d eliminated his… all except for one.

warnings. fem!reader. au. nsfw, smut, fluff. hitman!leon, ex!leon, jealous!leon, re4!leon intended. discussion of murder, guns, bullets, etc. a loooot of blissful ignorance. porn with some plot. pet names. argument. oral sex (f!receiving), face sitting, missionary, unprotected p in v, creampie. wc. 5.3k

note. i tend to fuck up a nice “ex who is a raging munch” fic or two saurrrr this is basically my staple now :3

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request

Leon isn’t sure why he’s here.

He hasn’t ever bid on a target as sought after as the one that he has now acquired. The target was only described as someone who simply ‘knows too much’ about something they shouldn’t. Vague, he thinks, especially because they remained nameless, genderless, and description-less otherwise. It was odd, for sure, but it was the highest contract that he had ever come by.

As a matter of fact, he’s positive that it’s the highest contract that anyone in his position has ever seen, let alone signed. He’s sure that he’s ruffled a bit of feathers by taking on the job, especially considering that he was still considered fresh meat among the other hitmen that he was distantly familiar with.

Leon preferred to stay out of the unusual politics that came with the underground world, and that meant taking on the jobs that no one deemed urgent enough to complete.

(Plenty of drug dealers, a few sketchy nightclub owners, and an awful bunch of politicians who he is 99% sure put the bounty on their own heads to avoid the scandal that was unearthed about each of them no less than two weeks after they were found with bullets in their heads. He preferred those hits. All men, all guilty of something.)

Nevertheless, he finds himself here, perched on the rooftop of an upscale bar with his sniper rifle angled over the ledge. His scope was perfectly aligned with the entrance of the night club across the street, his right eye narrowed while the other was completely shut.

He sighs, tapping onto his earpiece to communicate with his teammate that was a few buildings over. Alexander.

(Alexander was a tech-nut. He was responsible for ensuring that the coast was clear, that there weren’t an abundance of cops in the area, and that security cameras of the establishment were looped continually in order to ensure that no one could suspect anything more than someone being at the wrong place at the wrong time.)

“Reread the target description that was left for me,” Leon quietly commands.

“Aaand what’s the magic word?”

He heavily sighs. For a job like this, he figured that working alone would be the best option, but with the more he learned, the more experience he gained, the people he met—he was proven wrong. A team works more efficiently than a single person, even if the other half of his current team was a bit… annoying.

“Don’t piss me off,” he huffs, shaking his head as he closes one eye to look through the scope again.

Leon can practically hear Alexander’s grin on the other end of the line as he speaks. “Alright, man, jeez. Your g-string must be a bit too tight tonight, but that’s alright, I’m in no place to judge you.”

Before the blonde can even react to that unsettling quip, Alexander continues speaking, only this time, he does what Leon asks of him. “Bounty, bounty, bounty… where is the darn thing? Oh yes, here it is. Okay, it says that the target will be wearing a blue button-up shirt, a black coat, and black slacks tonight…. and that’s it.”

Leon hums, mulling over the very few words that were left for him by the person who had posted the contract in the first place. He’d never killed someone based on the description of an outfit alone,  but then again, he’s never gotten paid this much for sending a bullet through a random guy’s brain. He’ll take it.

“Thanks,” he mutters, turning off his ear piece to drown out the voice of the male on the other end.

It feels like hours pass by in which all he does is stare at the entrance, watching as each attendee leaves the establishment periodically. Each time he saw the color red, he’d perk up, only to find that they were wearing jeans, or they were wearing a white blazer, which only left him feeling more annoyed as time went on.

And then, the door opens. He can practically feel the air flee his lungs as he taps onto his earpiece out of instinct. A blue button-up shirt, a black coat, and black slacks.

“Ooh. Pretty. We guessed wrong, didn’t we?” Alexander speaks through the earpiece, which causes Leon to raise a brow.

“What’re you…” his voice trails. His blood runs cold, his palms begin to sweat, and his eyes blow wide. “Holy… fuck.”

“I know right? Not only is she a woman, but she’s miiiighty fine,” his teammate speaks, his voice oddly humorous for the given situation. A moment of silence passes, and Alexander continues to talk, but he can’t hear a damn word.

Leon freezes like a deer in headlights as he watches you emerge from the dim nightclub with a man’s arm slung around your shoulder, though that hardly taints how angelic you look tonight.

Your hair frames your face so beautifully, so soft and feminine. The tip of your nose was flushed given the crisp night air that you’ve just stepped into, your smile was side and toothy as you walked beside a man that he didn’t recognize.

You’re gorgeous, is all he can think right now. It’s the first time he’s seen you since the moment the two of you broke up six months ago, and you look even prettier than when he pictured you each night to fall asleep. He dreamt of you often, but his lovesick mind was no match for imagining the beauty that you possess.

Suddenly, Alexander’s voice pierced through his haze, bringing him back to the current scene. “Earth to Leon? I get it man, she’s pretty, very much so. I’d hit that too if she wasn’t gonna die in like… two secs.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” he hisses, his voice sounding just as venomous as he’d intended it to. “You aren’t going to lay a damn finger on her.”

“Woah, buddy. Big talk from the guy with a sniper aimed at her head.”

That is the moment in which everything clicks in the worst way imaginable.

It’s you. His target, the person who knows too much, the one who is supposed to die tonight—it’s you.

And then, he becomes acutely aware of the lines that are obstructing his view of you. His scope. The red dot in the center placed strategically on your temple, the bullet meant just for you waiting for a simple pull of a trigger.

Leon shudders, picking his head up. No. Absolutely not. Completing his task was not even a thought in his mind anymore, not if the target was you. His beautiful, sweet girl.

But he couldn’t leave the scene unscathed. It would raise suspicion, possibly even tie him to you in a way that you didn’t need. If he didn’t fulfill the obligation in some way, someone else would. He’d broken up with you to save you from all of this, and now, he’d unknowingly come here to make you familiar with his lifestyle in the worst way possible.

You were walking away, and it’s then that his trained eyes fall onto the man who has his arm draped over your shoulder in the way he used to all those months ago. His heart aches at the mere sight of you looking so happy in the company of another, but it gives him an idea.

Leon looks through the scope again, and within seconds, a loud gunshot rings through the air in the form of a thundering pop.

His jaw tenses as he hears screaming. They aren’t your screams though, because you’re not hit. They’re coming from the man you were with, because Leon has just lightly grazed his arm with a bullet.

He wasn’t insane. He wasn’t going to be killing anyone tonight, even if he desperately wanted to kick the living shit out of the man who is so close to you.

Well… was close to you. He isn’t anymore. Your date is writing on the ground all because of a flesh wound, and you’re standing above him with the most confused and concerned look on your face.

Leon can’t help but think that the man has no regard for you and your safety. For all this mystery man knows, more shots could be coming, and instead of trying to protect you, he’s rolling around on the concrete like a toddler throwing a tantrum. Such a man baby.

“What’re you waiting for? Holy fuck, uh… you still have the shot. Take the shot—”

Leon pulls the earpiece away, turning it off before she shoves it into his back pocket. He didn’t need to be scolded by anyone, let alone someone as useless as his teammate. He’d beat him bloody for how he had spoken about you if he weren’t already packing up his equipment to head over to your place.

He needs to check on you, first and foremost. He also needs to explain himself which was… going to be no easy feat, he supposes.

You don’t find your way home until about an hour later, keys jumbling about as you push it into the slot, twisting it with a tired hand.

To be shot at was not on your agenda for tonight, but being berated by your date for not reacting quick enough to help him evade a bullet you had no knowledge of was certainly not how you wanted to end your night either.

Annoyed, exhausted, and frustrated, you step into your apartment. When you begin to shrug off your coat, your body tenses. No. Fucking. Way.

“What the fuck?” you hiss, your voice rising in octave.

Leon stands from your couch, approaching you with his hands in the air, attempting to show you that he hadn’t come with malice. You knew he hadn't, but that didn’t mean you wanted to see him.

“Baby, it’s just me,” he says without thinking, the pet name slipping out before he could have a say in the matter.

“Yeah, I know it’s just you, that’s the problem!” you continue, hanging your coat up on the rack along with your purse. “Are you out of your damn mind? I—”

“Yes,” he answers without hesitation. “I am out of my mind, and you must be out of yours for still keeping your spare key under your doormat. I told you to move it years ago.”

Your brows knit together. “You little— you know what? I’m not even going to entertain that. How about this? You leave, and we forget this happened, yeah?”

“Can’t do that,” he tells you with a shrug, crossing his arms over his wide chest. “I need to talk to you.”

“Don’t do this, Leon, not tonight,” you huff, pinching your nose bridge. “I’m not in the mood, alright? I was—”

“Shot at?” he finishes your sentence. He immediately regrets it, pressing his lips into a line to keep himself from saying anything else.

Your demeanor falters at that. You tilt your head to the side, your eyes narrowing as you look at him from where he stands across the room. “How do you know that?”

He takes a moment to answer, his mouth opening without any words coming out. It spikes your frustration, so you speak again. “Damn it, Leon, how do you know that?”

Leon holds his hands up again, pleading his defense before he criminalizes himself entirely. “I was the one behind the gun, but it’s not what you think—”

Your jaw drops. “Not what I think? Not what I think? You tried to kill me!”

He shakes his head, his expression falling. “I didn’t, baby. I swear. Just let me explain, and—”

“You tried to shoot me in the damn neck!” you continue, your hand dramatically clasping into the side of your throat.

Leon closes his eyes for a moment, internally bracing himself for your outburst that he absolutely deserves. He opens them again, simply watching as you spew insults his way. He takes them without any hint of irritation.

“What the hell, Leon? Is that what you do now? You stalk your ex-girlfriend and try to kill her? Not only that, you missed. You missed! That’s almost fucking humorous, because how can you try to do something like that and then miss!”

Leon sighs, waiting for a moment to see if you try to continue, and when you don’t, he speaks instead. “I aimed for his arm, not your neck, or anywhere else that would endanger you—”

“Yeah, and you almost blew his arm off!” You’re more than aware that the statement was dramatic, but you don’t need to have any sense right now.

“It was a flesh wound, he’ll be just fine,” he tells you before he continues with what he was saying before. “And I wasn’t stalking you. Not knowingly, anyway. I would never hurt you. Not ever. Your date was just… collateral. I had no choice.”

He hopes that you don’t ask any more questions about that, because he won’t have any answers for you. It was for the better. All you knew was that his job wasn’t legal. It couldn’t have been, not with the copious amounts of money that rolled in while he hardly worked for half of the month.

The less you knew about what his line of work entailed, the safer you were. The further away you were from him, the safer you were. However, those last words now ring hollow.

“Look…” he whispers, taking a step towards you despite his brain screaming at him to leave. He couldn’t. Not when he was the only one who knew of your compromised position. “I know that much has changed between us. It’s my fault, I know it, but I can’t tell you anything more about my job, I just need you to—”

You need answers that you won’t be getting, and that sentiment alone makes you furious. When he gets too close, your hand moves to the leather harness that he has strapped around his broad chest, pulling a sharp-bladed knife from its sleeve. His eyes widen as you hold the blade up to him, his hands shooting up into the air yet again.

“You remember where I put my spare key, I remember where you keep your spare knife,” you taunt, the two of you standing so close now that he can feel the warmth of your breath on his face. “Guess we haven’t changed as much as you think.”

He huffs as the cool blade grazes his clothed chest, the metal so close that it nearly pierces his skin. Even then, you ensure that it doesn’t. It’s almost touching how you press such a sharp object to his heart of all places, he thinks.

Your situation is far more complicated than the both of you can handle right now. You have unresolved issues with each other, and that alone must be addressed before you can even begin to scratch the surface of the threats that now face the two of you.

“I still think you’re sexy when you’re mean to me,” he whispers, tilting his head to the side. “That hasn’t changed either.”

Was it the time for his flirtatious performance? Certainly not, but you were putting on a little performance of your own just the same.

You scoff, narrowing your eyes. “You’re disgusting.”

Leon shakes his head, his eyes narrowing just as yours did. “Disgusting? Oh, don’t romance me.”

“I’m not romancing you,” you huff with an eye roll. Your grip on the knife only tightens, but you have no real intention of using it. “I’m threatening you.”

He hardly finds you to be threatening. He’d liken you to an angry cat, but he wouldn’t dare voice that out loud. He’s letting you have your moment, truth be told. “Mm, even better.”

His calloused hand moves to shadow yours, slowly lowering the knife that begged to pierce his pale skin. You let him, which only gives him more incentive to pull it away from your grasp entirely.

He tucks the knife back into his sheath, moving to unbuckle the harness entirely. “Now. Tell me, who was that guy?”

A random guy you met on Tinder. “My future husband.”

You’re just trying to get under his skin now, and judging by the look on his face, it’s working. He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks down at you, taking note of that smug grin that stretches over your lips.

He really just wants to fuck it right off you, but he doesn’t make that known. Not yet, anyway.

“Yeah?” he asks, tilting his head. “You gonna let him put a ring on that pretty finger of yours?”

No, you absolutely were not, but you’re enjoying this game. It’s what he deserves after scaring the shit out of you tonight. “Yeah, I am. Thinking about some baby names too, just for safekeeping.”

Leon doesn’t like the thought that you’ve just put in his head, not one bit. His hand finds your left one, bringing it up to his lips as he presses a kiss on your ring finger. “Huh. That’s what you want?”

You tilt your head, noticing how his lips linger on your hand for a moment too long. “You know what I don’t want? To be shot at.”

He hums, giving you a mocking frown. Of course he feels bad about that, but… you both know he hadn’t truly shot at you. Around you, yes, but not at you. His large hands find your waist, his fingers grasping onto the fabric of your shirt and slowly but surely, you find yourself being backed towards your couch.

“Answer my question,” he whispers, his voice now possessing a rasp that it didn’t have before.

You huff, willingly sitting on your couch, even though you’re doing your best to front as though you’re totally disinterested. “Why should I?”

He shrugs, his lips tugging down as he tilts his head. You watch with blown eyes as he kneels in front of you, his palms gliding over your thighs.

“‘Cause if that’s what you want, I’ll give it to you.”

You tilt your head, eyeing him quite intently as his fingers move to the button of your slacks. You shouldn’t be turned on, but you absolutely are, and the damp fabric of your panties that he’s about to see conveys that pretty well.

“Give me what?” you ask, grinning slightly.

“A ring, a baby… both, neither,” he replies, his fingers hooking beneath your waistband. “Lift your hips for me.”

When you do just that, his eyes raise to find yours. He has a crazed look in his eye, one that you’re all too familiar with. “Whatever you want, baby, I’ll give it to you,” he whispers, leaning in until his soft lips just barely brush against yours.

Your eyes close, and you could have sworn that he was going to kiss you. But he doesn’t. When you open your eyes, you find him grinning. The same shit-eating grin that you love and hate to no avail.

“You just have to say the words,” he whispers against your lips.

You roll your eyes, your hand reaching out to rest on the back of his neck. He was already impossibly close, so all you truly did was hold him there. “I want to kiss you.”

Leon smiles, nodding his head in agreement. “Mm, like I said. Whatever my lady wants, she gets.”

His lips find yours in a searing kiss, his calloused hands smoothing over the soft, exposed skin of your thighs. Your lips move together in a gentle manner at first, as though you were allowing yourselves to get familiar all over again, but you were both quick to realize that gentleness was the last thing you needed.

Your breathing grows ragged as one of his hands cups the back of your head, tilting you just enough so that his tongue could easily slip into your mouth. The kiss was sloppier, messier, much more desperate. It was perfect, in your humble opinion.

His trails kisses down your cheek, jaw, neck… just about anywhere he could as he begins his gradual descent. His hands palm at your breasts through your shirt, and without hesitation, his hands grasp onto the fabric and yank it open. Buttons go flying about your living room, but Leon doesn’t seem to care with the way his face pressed into your cleavage.

One of his hands snaked behind you to undo the clasp of your bra, and the moment he saw a nipple, his mouth was already distracted once again.

“Leon, that was my favorite shirt!” you scold, glancing down at him.

He looks up at you with hazed eyes, sucking the peak of your breast into his mouth before he releases it to reply to you. “Was it?” he asks, his reply lacking any care in the slightest.

You nod, narrowing your eyes at him, but your front doesn’t last long when his tongue swirls around your areola. He reaches into his back pocket, tossing his wallet beside you.

“Buy a new one, shit, buy anything you want,” he whispers against your skin, his hands grasping onto your waist. “Tits are so pretty, baby. I missed you.”

“Is that all you missed about me?” you ask, a huff of laughter leaving your lips while his trail down your stomach.

“Absolutely not, no,” he murmurs against your skin, his fingers hooking beneath the fabric of your panties. He looks at you as he pulls them down your legs, and he presses his warm lips to your inner calves and thighs as he makes his way towards you again. “Missed everything about you.”

You roll your eyes. “That’s corny—”

“Sh,” he tells you, holding one finger up while he uses his other hand to slip one into your sopping entrance. Your walls clench around him, which only forces a chuckle to leave his mouth. “Let her talk for a bit, yeah?”

He hardly gives you a moment to reply before his head dips, his tongue curling up to stimulate your clit before he sucks on it entirely. He unabashedly moans into your cunt, introducing another finger into your entrance simultaneously.

Your head falls back, your hand delving into his hair to hold him impossibly closer to you, even though he seriously would get closer if he could.

“Sweetest pussy,” he murmurs into your heat, his voice rumbling against your wet cunt that he continued to eat like he would die if he didn’t. “Do somethin’ for me?”

You pick your head up to look down at him, nodding without question. He opens his eyes to look at you in return, pressing a kiss onto your mound before he turns around so that his back is now pressed against the front of your couch, still sitting on the ground.

“Sit on my face,” he suggests, tipping his head back onto the couch cushion.

He reaches for your hand to pull you forward, and you pivot on your knee, your front facing the back of the couch. He lays a light smack on your ass before he pulls you down the rest of the way to make you sit on his face.

Your hand reaches down, clutching onto his hair yet again while you cry out in genuine bliss. His tongue softens as he gives you long, deep licks into your pussy, wanting to taste every inch of you on his tongue.

And when your hips start to rock, he seems to be even happier. Much more incentivized too. He lulls his tongue out of his mouth, flattening it to let you ride his face as you so pleased. You made a mess of his chin, his mouth, his nose—he hardly cares.

(In fact, he doesn’t care. Not one bit. You might even have to pay him to care.)

“Y-You know,” you whine, grasping a bit firmer onto his hair while your hips continue to roll on his tongue, “I’m still mad at you.”

He nods his head, which only stimulates your cunt even more. “Mm, yeah?”

It felt so good. Everything about this was absolutely ecstasy, you can feel your eyes pricking with tears from how stimulated you’re growing.

“Yeah,” you choke out, resting your palms on the back of the couch to brace yourself. “I’m really fucking mad.”

Leon can’t help but grin, his hands brushing along the plush of your thighs. “I’m not too sure, sweetheart. Not with you riding my face like you love me ‘n all.”

“Shut… shut the hell up,” you moan, squeezing your eyes shut as your movements begin to grow even more crazed the closer you get to your release. He was right, but that didn’t mean you had to admit that.

“Okay,” he complies, his eyes fluttering shut while he starts to greedily make out with your pussy, feeling the way you pulsate on his tongue. “Shuttin’ me up real nice with this pretty little pussy. Cum on my face too while you’re at it, pretty girl.”

Not nice enough, but you cry out anyway, your head falling while your legs tremble on either side of his head. “I… Leon, ‘m cumming,” you say through an airy moan.

His movements slow as yours do, his tongue eagerly reaping the benefits of its labor in the form of your sweet release. He lets out a content sigh, pressing a few sweet kisses on your inner thigh.

You slowly rise up from his face, and he turns around to face you again, licking his lips, not caring about the rest of your thin slick that coats his face. You chuckle, running your hand over his face to wipe it away.

“So…” he drawls, pressing a kiss to your palm. “You’re still mad at me? Tell me more.”

“Later,” you reply, hooking your finger into the loophole of his pants to pull him closer to you.

With a chuckle, Leon pulls his shirt up and over his head, tossing it aimlessly on the floor of your living room. He gently nudges you until you’re laying back on your couch, his hands then moving to undo his belt.

“Ah, I see,” he teases, pushing his pants and boxers down in one motion. He kicks them away before he settles in between your parted legs, his hand pumping his cock.

You raise your eyes from his cock to his eyes, and you give him the most weary expression alive. “I don’t think it’s gonna fit,” you say.

It’s been too long, you were certainly not used to his size anymore. Leon knew it just as well as you did, but he didn’t want to make you nervous by saying that.

His brows knit together as he leans down to kiss you, his fingers moving a bit lower to prod your entrance. “You flatter me,” he says against your lips, his head dipping a bit lower to kiss your neck. “No need to worry your pretty little head, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

You nod your head, one of your hands cupping the back of his head while the other rests on his strong shoulder. “Okay… yeah, okay.”

He nods too, moving one of his hands to meet the one that you have resting on his shoulder. He intertwines your fingers, pushing your hand back onto the couch while he uses his other one to slide his tip along your folds.

“I promise,” he whispers, pulling back to look you in the eyes. “I’ll take care of you.”

He always has. Even after the events of tonight, you know that he always will.

“I love you,” you say without thinking. A flush rushes across your face, and you close your eyes in utter embarrassment. (Seriously? A confession of your undying love while he’s actively entering you? Time and place.) “I’m so sorry, I—”

“Nothing to apologize for,” he whispers, pushing his cock further inside of you until he bottoms out. “Mm… I love you so much,” he replies without a care in the world. “And I’m not sorry about it.”

Your eyes soften at that, and a small chuckle leaves your lips. “Well… that’s good, isn’t it���?”

His eyebrows knit together, laughing softly at your awkward reply. “You’re such a dork, baby,” he whispers, dipping his head to plant a kiss on your lips while he rolls his hips into yours. “A pretty one, though.”

Your eyes flutter shut as he presses a kiss on your lips, and they stay shut, even when he opts to just rest his forehead on yours. “Your dork,” you say, a bit breathlessly with a smile on your face.

“Mhm,” he nods in agreement, a toothy smile stretching across his face. “My dork.”

Such a lovely interaction that you nearly forgot that he was fucking you like there was no tomorrow, because the moment he falls silent, your eyes widen. “Oh, God…”

He smiles, kissing your cheek while he continues to thrust inside of you, his cock being swallowed whole by your pussy in a way that made him feel like he was finally home.

“See?” he whispers in your ear, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “You’re taking me so well, pretty. So well.”

That makes you chuckle, but your laugh doesn’t last for long when the head of his cock rams into you even harder. Your hand smooths out along the expanse of his back, dragging your nails back up.

“You’re crazy,” you gasp out.

Leon smiles. “Crazy about you, sure.”

You laugh through an airy moan, tilting your head to the side as your eyes flutter shut. “Soooo corny,” you whisper.

He shakes his head with his same toothy grin, using his free hand to tilt your chin towards him again. His thumb brushes along your bottom lip before he kisses you, and it is just about the sweetest kiss that you could have ever asked for.

“You love it,” he murmurs in reply, a bit breathless as an overwhelming heat pools in his lower stomach.

You shake your head. “I love you.”

Leon clicks his tongue at that, giving your hand a squeeze. “And I’m the corny one?”

That makes you laugh, which makes him laugh. He loves hearing you like this, so happy yet so utterly ruined by the way he feels inside of you. He knows that the feeling is mutual, which only amplifies how much he’s enjoying this. Having you again.

He softly moans in your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “Pussy was made for me,” he rasps, pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear. “You were made for me.”

After a few more strokes, he truly begins to lose himself. His cock twitches inside of you, and he dips his head into your shoulder. “Mmh, ‘m gonna cum,” he rasps.

He pulls back, but you only pull him closer. It’s been so long, he hadn’t truly thought that you’d be okay with that. But here you were, his favorite girl. Always surprising him. “I love you, sweet girl.”

You nod your head, wrapping your free arm around his neck while the other gives his hand another squeeze. “I love you more.”

He grunts when your walls clench around his length, his lips pressing a longing kiss to your shoulder. “Cum with me, baby, c’mon. I need it, honey, please.”

You’re in no position to deny him or yourself. Your body trembles beneath him, a gorgeous moan ripping through the air while he buries himself deep inside of you, stuffing you full of his cum while you find your own release on his cock.

The two of you lay there for a moment, out of breath and entirely engulfed by one another. He slowly pulls out of you, pressing a few chaste kisses along your shoulder, your neck, your jaw, until he eventually kisses your lips.

When he pulls away, you smile up at him. You chase his lips once more, giving him a tender kiss before you lay your head back down.

“Now, as for why I’m still mad at you…”

note. yeahhh i need him bad in a way that’s concerning to feminism. anywhoooo interact if you enjoyed i rly like writing for him :D thank you so much for reading!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request

[ikeucity]

𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗘𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗬𝗢𝗨. ― (희승)

「 ᴘᴀʀᴛ (2/4) ᴏꜰ ᴋᴇᴜʀɪ'ꜱ ʟᴏꜱᴇʀ! ᴇᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀᴜ 」 previously on loser! edition: 𝗝𝗘𝗔𝗟𝗢𝗨𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗝𝗘𝗡𝗡𝗜𝗘. ― (제이)

▸ pairing. loser!heeseung x tutor!reader ▸ wc. 36k

warning. this story contains themes of slow-burn romance, fluff, and mild angst, sub!hee (??), alcohol-use, cute drunk moments, emotional connection. while the story leans heavily on wholesome and lighthearted moments, there may be mild language and themes of insecurity. explicit content (18+). mdni.

after jay kicks him out for drunkenly spilling his secret, heeseung is set on drowning his sorrows. what he doesn’t know is that you’ve had your eye on him for a while. with a bit of liquid courage, you decide to make your move. your attempt to impress heeseung leads to way more than you bargained for.

credits to @slvtella, she is the one who gave me a base storyline and i just added sprinkles.

heeseung stumbled out of jay’s room, his vision swimming a little as the vodka hit him hard. he could still feel the embarrassment creeping up his neck, heat rising to his face as he replayed the disaster in his mind. why the fuck did he have to blurt out the one thing no one needed to hear tonight? jennie. jay’s fucking sex doll. heeseung groaned, rubbing the back of his neck, cringing at the memory. he had one job tonight—be the perfect wingman, help jay finally hook up with the girl he’d been crushing on for months. instead, he got piss-drunk and spilled the dumbest secret right in front of her. he could still see the look on jay’s face, the way it shifted from shock to betrayal in seconds. heeseung felt like a fucking idiot. “stupid, fucking idiot,” he muttered under his breath, avoiding eye contact with anyone as he pushed through the crowded room. it felt like every pair of eyes was on him, like they all knew what he’d done. the music was loud, bass pounding through the floor, laughter and chatter filling the air, but it didn’t matter. all he felt was out of place, a walking fuck-up. he definitely needed more alcohol. heeseung found his way to the kitchen, grabbed the first bottle he saw, and made a beeline for the couch. the couch was safe, away from the crowd, away from the judgment. he slumped down, tipping the bottle back, letting the sharp burn of alcohol flood his throat. maybe if he drank enough, he’d forget how badly he screwed up.

the party moved on without him. people laughed, danced, paired off, while heeseung just sat there, watching like a ghost. he wasn’t part of their world, not tonight. maybe not ever. he could feel the alcohol numbing him, dulling the sharp edges of his embarrassment, but not enough to forget. “what a fucking night,” he muttered, taking another drink. he wasn’t the guy who got the girl, never was. just the awkward dude who couldn’t even wingman right. maybe that’s why he got so wasted in the first place, trying to feel like he belonged here, like he could keep up with everyone else. heeseung shifted, his eyes catching the couple next to him. they were all over each other, lips locked, hands roaming. he could feel their heat, their bodies pressed so close he could practically feel them on his skin. he tensed up, looking away, pretending like he wasn’t sitting there, the third wheel on their couch. he tried to move, inch away, but his legs felt like lead, weighed down by the alcohol. their wet kisses filled his ears, the low murmur of their voices mixing with the music. it was too much. he gripped the bottle tighter, praying for an escape, but every time he looked around, the room seemed more packed, more suffocating. moving meant more awkward interactions, more people looking at him like he didn’t belong. so, he stayed put, sinking deeper into the couch, swallowing down another long gulp of vodka.

and then he saw you. you were across the room, eyes locked on him. not judging, not laughing. just… watching. there was something in the way you looked at him, something soft, curious. like you saw him, really saw him. and not in the way everyone else did, not like the awkward fuck-up stuck between a horny couple. there was no pity in your gaze, no judgment. heeseung blinked, his heart stuttering in his chest. it wasn’t the alcohol this time—it was you. you looking at him like that. he hadn’t noticed you before, too caught up in his own mess, but now? now you had his full attention. and suddenly, he didn’t feel so invisible. didn’t feel like the guy who always messed everything up. for a second, it felt like maybe, just maybe, the night wasn’t a total loss.

heeseung had no clue you’d been watching him all night.

even now, as he sat there looking like a complete wreck—his hair a tousled mess, his eyes half-shut, drunk as hell, slouched into the couch like he was hoping it’d just swallow him up—you couldn’t tear your eyes away. it was pathetic, honestly. but something about the way he always seemed so out of place, so awkward, drew you in more than it should.

he never noticed you. not like you wanted him to, anyway. you’d been crushing on him for longer than you cared to admit, but always from a distance. it wasn’t like you could just go up to him, make it clear you were into him. he’d probably freeze up, stutter through something dumb, or worse, think you were messing with him.

because that was lee heeseung—awkward as hell, too wrapped up in his own world, and so fucking oblivious it made your chest ache. he wasn’t the guy everyone noticed, wasn’t smooth or charming. he was just… there. but you didn’t care. you liked him. more than you should, probably.

you liked how real he was, how he always seemed like he didn’t know where he fit in, even when he tried so damn hard. he wasn’t perfect, far from it, but that’s what made him so fucking endearing. every time you saw him—whether it was in class, during group work, or at parties like this, blending into the background—you couldn’t help but notice. the way he’d sit off to the side, like he was hoping no one would call on him, or how he zoned out completely, probably thinking about the games he’d play when he got home. you noticed the way his eyes lit up just a little when someone talked about sports, like it was the one thing he was secretly proud of.

and now here he was, stuck on that couch next to some couple basically mauling each other. they were all over each other, hands and mouths everywhere, and heeseung looked more uncomfortable than ever. he was stiff, like he didn’t know what the hell to do with himself, his eyes darting around the room, looking for some way out.

god, it made your heart flip.

you couldn’t stop staring, watching the way he scratched the back of his neck, like he was trying to make himself smaller, invisible. no one else noticed, but you did. you always noticed. and maybe that’s why you’d never had the guts to make a move. you didn’t want to add to his discomfort, didn’t want to freak him out when he already had enough on his plate just trying to survive the night.

you liked him too much. way too much. but you were careful. you stayed in the background, letting him be, never wanting to scare him off. you were always there, always watching, wishing he’d look at you the way you looked at him. but he never did.

until now.

the alcohol in your system was doing something, messing with your head, making you feel brave—or stupid. you weren’t sure which. but for a second, you thought… was he looking at you?

heeseung’s eyes, hazy with drunkenness, seemed to meet yours. his expression was curious, like maybe—just maybe—he’d noticed you this time. your heart skipped a beat, that stupid giddy feeling hitting you hard. but then, just as quickly, the moment passed. he blinked, his gaze darting away, and that familiar awkwardness took over again. it was like he hadn’t even meant to look at you in the first place, just happened to zone out in your direction.

you liked him too much. way too fucking much.

the alcohol wasn’t helping. it was pushing you, telling you to go for it, to stop sitting in the corner like a damn creep and just talk to him. your heart was pounding, your palms fidgeting in your lap as the idea crept up on you. this wasn’t you—you didn’t make moves like this. but right now? with the buzz in your veins and the way he looked like he could use someone to save him from this disaster of a night?

fuck it.

this might be the only chance you had. and besides, you were tipsy. what did you really have to lose?

you shifted in your seat, adrenaline kicking in, your mind spinning with possibilities. it wasn’t like he’d push you away, right? not heeseung. not when he was sitting there, awkward and alone, looking like he’d appreciate anyone giving him a way out.

before you could stop yourself, you stood up, heart racing and mind spinning from the alcohol. heeseung hadn’t even noticed you as you walked toward him, the music and chatter fading into the background, each step toward him feeling heavier, more uncertain. the couple next to him had finally fucked off, leaving the seat next to him empty, and you weren’t about to waste the opportunity. who knew where they went? who cared? it was just you and him now, and that was all that mattered.

as you got closer, you watched heeseung straighten up a little, like he was finally free from the suffocating makeout session happening beside him. you saw the relief in his face, the way his shoulders relaxed, and he let out this small, tired sigh. poor guy had been through hell sitting there. you could almost feel his discomfort from across the room, and it tugged at something deep in your chest. he shifted back against the couch, clearly buzzed, his eyes slightly glazed, and though he wasn’t as tense anymore, there was still that air of frustration clinging to him. you could practically hear the self-deprecating thoughts swirling in his head.

it made your chest ache seeing him frown. you knew he wasn’t the most confident guy, but damn, you didn’t think he was this hard on himself. the more you watched him, the more you wanted to be near him, to sit next to him and maybe make him feel a little less alone in all this mess.

but god, you were just as awkward as he was. every nerve in your body felt like it was buzzing as you made your way over, trying not to trip over your own feet. heeseung, predictably, didn’t even notice you coming. he was too wrapped up in his own thoughts, lost in his head like always.

you stood there for a second, gathering whatever courage you had left, and then slid onto the couch beside him. you tried to do it smoothly, but your nerves made everything feel stiff, awkward. heeseung barely glanced up, still too caught up in his anxious energy, but you could tell he was struggling. the way his body slumped forward a little, the tension in his hands as they gripped the empty bottle… yeah, he was a mess.

you cleared your throat, trying to break through his haze. he glanced at you, almost like he didn’t really see you at first, and then quickly looked away. classic heeseung—too stuck in his own head to notice when someone was actually paying attention to him.

“hey,” you said, voice shaky but determined. “uh, you good?” as soon as the words left your mouth, you cringed internally. seriously? that’s what you went with? but it was too late to take it back now.

he blinked, staring at his drink for a moment before glancing at you again. “uh, yeah. fine.” his voice was quiet, almost unsure, and he took another quick sip, like he was trying to drink his nerves away. you weren’t surprised, honestly. you’d expected this.

you pushed forward, hoping to keep the conversation alive despite the awkward start. “so, uh… you come to these things often?” you winced as the words left your mouth, knowing how lame and cliché they sounded. his lips twitched, maybe the beginning of a smile, but it quickly disappeared as he turned back to his drink, downing more of it.

“not really…” he mumbled, voice already slurring a bit. yeah, he was definitely drunk, and he was definitely not handling it well. heeseung was never the guy who could drink much without turning into this red, nervous, slurry mess.

but you weren’t about to give up. leaning in slightly, you tried again. “it’s pretty loud in here, huh? kinda overwhelming.”

he nodded, muttering something under his breath as he took another long drink, clearly hoping the alcohol would somehow make him less awkward. but instead, it seemed to pull him deeper into his own head. with each sip, he retreated further, barely answering your questions.

by the third question, it was clear he wasn’t going to be much of a conversationalist tonight. he was chugging his drink like it was the only thing keeping him from falling apart, and you could tell he was barely hanging on. “so… what do you do when you’re not, uh, here?” you asked, trying to steer the conversation into something he might enjoy talking about.

heeseung blinked, his face flushed as he struggled to respond. “uh… y’know… stuff,” he muttered, sounding more and more like he wanted to disappear into the couch entirely.

you sighed softly, not even upset. still, it was a little disappointing to see him this far gone, too drunk to even attempt to keep up the conversation. heeseung had a habit of sabotaging himself like this, and tonight was no exception.

eventually, his words turned into grunts, his eyes growing heavier with each drink. you couldn’t help but chuckle softly, watching him fumble with the now-empty bottle, clearly surprised he’d finished it so fast. his hands scrambled awkwardly on the table, searching for more alcohol, and you watched him with an amused smile, feeling the warmth of your own buzz settling in.

you had no idea how many drinks you’d had at this point, but you were tipsy enough to feel bolder, less afraid of making a fool of yourself. seeing him struggle for another drink, you leaned in, holding out your cup with a small grin. “hey, you can have mine.”

he looked at you, blinking a few times like he was trying to process what you’d just said. for a moment, you thought he’d refuse, but then he let out a quiet, awkward laugh and took the cup from you. “uh, okay…” he mumbled, his fingers brushing against yours as he took it, that tiny contact sending a spark through you, making your heart skip.

you watched him take a sip, his eyes lingering on the cup like it was the holy grail, and for the first time tonight, he seemed a little more… open. maybe it was the alcohol loosening him up, or maybe it was because you’d given him something without expecting anything back. either way, he wasn’t brushing you off anymore.

he took another small sip before looking at the cup again, then back at you. he hesitated for a second, then held it out to you, his fingers brushing yours as he handed it back. “here… you probably want this back,” he slurred, his voice soft, a little unsure. you smiled, shaking your head as you gently pushed the cup back toward him.

“nah, it’s all yours. seriously,” you said, your heart skipping at the brief contact.

he blinked, glancing down at the cup before he looked back up at you, a bit surprised. “oh… uh, thanks,” he muttered, clearly still a little thrown off by your kindness, but not nearly as guarded as before.

you tried again, feeling a little braver now. “so… you having an okay time?”

this time, he didn’t hide behind the cup. he glanced at you, his expression softening just a bit. “uh, yeah… just, y’know, not really good at these party things,” he admitted, his words still slurred, but now more open, more willing to talk. “too many people… and, uh, stuff.”

you nodded, sipping the last bit of your own drink, feeling the warmth spread through your veins. “yeah, i get it. sometimes it’s a lot. but hey… at least you’ve got me to talk to now, right?”

heeseung blinked again, like he hadn’t even considered that you might actually want to talk to him. “yeah… I guess so,” he mumbled, a shy smile tugging at the corner of his lips. it was small, barely there, but it was enough to make your heart flutter a little.

with both of you sufficiently drunk, the tension started to ease. maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the fact that he was starting to realize you weren’t here to judge him, weren’t here to make him feel awkward or like shit for being himself. either way, conversation started to flow, clumsy and random, but comfortable.

each time you asked a question, heeseung would take a sip, trying to answer without tripping over his words. you found yourself laughing softly at his attempts to sound smoother than he was, finding his drunken honesty almost endearing.

heeseung was definitely at the point where you knew he wasn’t going to remember anything tomorrow. his eyes were glazed over, movements slow and a little too loose, words slurring together more with every sip. but there was something cute about how hard he was trying to stay present, like he wanted to keep talking, even though the alcohol was winning.

you, on the other hand, were riding the same buzz, but it just made you bolder, like all your usual fears had melted away. and before you could stop yourself, the question slipped out.

“so… you like games, right?”

you already knew the answer, of course. heeseung always talked about games whenever you managed to get him to open up, but something about the alcohol made you want to hear it again. maybe it was just an excuse to keep him talking, to keep the conversation going.

heeseung blinked, slow and confused, like he was trying to process what you just asked. “games?” he repeated, voice thick and sluggish, but then he gave you a small, drunken smile. “yeah… love ‘em. they’re, uh, fun.”

you bit your lip to keep from laughing at how ridiculously simple his answer was. “yeah? what’s your favorite?” you pressed, not even caring that you already knew—he was talking, and that was all you wanted.

he squinted, like he was trying to remember through the haze in his head. “uh… I dunno. depends,” he muttered, gripping the cup a little tighter as he took another shaky sip. “like… fps stuff. and sports games. y’know.”

you chuckled softly, nodding. “fps, huh? that’s cool. I bet you’re pretty good at them.”

he shrugged, but a small, shy smile crept onto his lips again. “yeah… I guess,” he slurred, his head tilting a little as he tried to focus on you. “but I dunno, ’m not good at… other stuff,” he mumbled, voice growing softer, trailing off into his drunken haze.

you leaned in, feeling a rush of warmth as you pressed a little more. “what do you mean, ‘other stuff’? come on, you’re good at games, right?”

he let out a half-hearted laugh, his eyes closing briefly like he was fighting off sleep. “maybe… but not good at, uh… everything else,” he mumbled, barely holding on to the conversation.

“we should play sometime,” you said, throwing it out there without expecting much, just feeling bold enough to suggest it.

he blinked slowly, his head bobbing a little before he mumbled, “yeah… that’d be cool.”

and with that, he slumped back into the couch, his drink slipping from his hand as he finally gave in to the drunkenness, completely checked out. you sighed softly, shaking your head with a smile as you watched him.

the brief moment of contentment you had was short-lived. reality smacked you hard—he wasn’t going to remember any of this. not you, not the awkward conversation, nothing. what the hell were you even doing? he was practically passed out, slumped against the couch like a dead weight. there was no way he was going to remember anything, let alone you trying to talk to him.

you sighed, glancing around the party, hoping someone—anyone—might notice how far gone heeseung was. but no one gave a shit. everyone was too busy dancing, making out, or lost in their own little worlds to even glance in his direction. great. of course, no one noticed. and where the hell was jay? wasn’t he supposed to be keeping an eye on things, especially since heeseung came with him?

you scanned the room again, feeling your stomach twist in frustration. still no sign of jay. perfect. heeseung’s head lolled to the side, completely oblivious to the chaos around him. someone needed to make sure he got home safe, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be him.

“heeseung?” you leaned closer, shaking his shoulder lightly, trying to wake him up. no response. you tried again, a little louder, shaking him harder this time. “hey, come on. wake up. you're wasted, we need to take you home.”

his eyes fluttered open, but he looked so out of it, like he had no idea where he was. “home…?” he mumbled, his voice a raspy whisper.

“yeah, home. do you even know where your phone is?” you asked, your concern growing as you watched him struggle to focus.

he blinked slowly, his hands fumbling through his pockets but coming up empty. “uh… no?” he muttered, his voice barely coherent.

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t shake the worry settling in. “okay, hold on. we’ll figure it out.” you glanced around again, hoping jay would miraculously show up, but no such luck. just more people partying.

“heeseung, you gotta wake up a little,” you said, shaking him again, but he was barely coherent. his eyes opened for a second before closing again, his head drooping back down.

this was gonna be a long night.

he stirred slightly, blinking up at you with that same drunken daze. for a second, you thought maybe he was starting to come around, but then, in the most slurred, half-assed voice, he muttered, “y'know… if i was a controller… i’d let you push all my buttons.”

you stared at him, blinking. did he really just say that?

his eyes widened in slow motion as the realization hit him, his face turning bright red. he groaned, slapping his hands over his face like he could hide from the embarrassment. “shit… that was so dumb,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by his hands. “why’d i say that…”

you couldn’t help it—you laughed. it was absurd, so random, and so fucking corny, but in the cutest way possible. “seriously, heeseung?” you teased, biting back more laughter as he squirmed in embarrassment. “that’s your best line?”

he let out another groan, his hands still covering his face. “i’m such an idiot,” he muttered. “just… pretend i didn’t say that. please.”

shaking your head, you grinned despite how ridiculous the situation was. yeah, he was a drunken mess, but that dumb line somehow made you like him even more. “don’t worry, it wasn’t that bad,” you said, nudging his arm lightly. “just… maybe save the pick-up lines for when you’re less drunk.”

heeseung peeked out from behind his hands, his face still flushed, and let out a defeated sigh. “god, i’m really gonna forget all this tomorrow, aren’t i?” he muttered, sounding like he’d already accepted his fate.

you sighed, the reality hitting you again. “yeah, probably. but hey, at least you’ll forget that awful line too.”

he gave a weak laugh, still clearly mortified but trying to play it off. “i’m gonna need to drink even more to forget that one,” he half-joked, his hand fumbling around, searching for another drink. but before he could even find anything, his body gave out completely, and he blacked out mid-reach.

without any warning, he collapsed off the couch, hitting the floor with a loud thud. your eyes widened in shock, a shriek of surprise slipping out before you could stop it. “heeseung! oh my god!” you gasped, scrambling to check if he was okay.

you dropped to your knees next to him, heart pounding as panic started to rise in your chest. heeseung was out cold, completely knocked out from the alcohol. shit. you tried shaking him gently, calling his name, but nothing. he didn’t even stir. not even a flinch.

“heeseung?” you called again, shaking his shoulder a little harder, but he was gone. damn it. you couldn’t just leave him like this. you needed to find jay or someone who could help, but when you glanced around the room, it was clear no one was paying attention.

where the hell is jay? you cursed under your breath. wasn’t this his party? wasn’t he supposed to make sure shit like this didn’t happen? you got up, your eyes darting around, searching for any sign of him. you started knocking on random doors, hoping one of them would lead to jay.

after a couple of tries, you heard a muffled voice from behind one of the doors. “JUST GO AWAY!”

you froze. that was definitely jay, and he sounded pissed. you stared at the door, debating whether to knock again, but you weren’t about to deal with him in that mood. he’s clearly busy with his own shit, you thought, your stomach twisting in frustration.

with a sigh, you glanced back at where heeseung was sprawled on the floor, completely out of it. no one else was going to help, and jay was a lost cause. guess it’s up to me.

you took a deep breath, steeling yourself. there’s no way i’m leaving him here like this. he’d never make it on his own, and no one else seemed to care. kneeling down beside him, you muttered, “okay, heeseung… let’s get you home,” even though you knew he wasn’t going to hear you.

you tried lifting him, but holy shit, he was heavier than he looked. “damn it,” you grunted, barely managing to prop him up against the couch. “come on, work with me here,” you muttered under your breath, even though you knew he was too far gone to do anything.

shit, where does this guy even live? you stared at him for a moment, realizing you had no idea. you shook his shoulder again, this time a bit more urgently. “heeseung? hey, you gotta wake up. where do you live?”

he blinked up at you, his eyes unfocused, his head swaying as he tried to process what you said. “wha…?” he mumbled, voice thick and slurred.

“heeseung, i need to get you home. where do you live?” you asked again, louder, hoping something would click in his foggy brain.

he blinked again, looking like he was trying to focus, then lazily pointed in some random direction. “i… live, uh… over… there?” he mumbled, before his hand flopped back into his lap like he’d just given you the most important information ever.

you couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous this was. “yeah, over where exactly, genius?” you muttered, giving him another shake. “come on, focus. where’s your house?”

heeseung squinted, his face scrunched up like he was trying to solve the hardest math problem ever. “my house… well, we’re not at my house right now,” he said, giggling to himself like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.

you rolled your eyes, but a laugh slipped out before you could stop it. “yeah, thanks for clearing that up.”

he squinted again, like he was finally realizing how unhelpful he was being. “no, wait… i got this,” he slurred, lifting a finger like he was about to say something profound. “my mom… she makes pancakes. really good ones,” he mumbled, his head bobbing as he tried to stay awake.

you sighed, half amused, half frustrated. “heeseung, how is that supposed to help me get you home?”

he shrugged weakly, his eyelids fluttering shut. “i dunno… but pancakes are good,” he mumbled, clearly on the verge of passing out again.

god, this is going nowhere, you thought, trying to suppress a smile. as much of a mess as he was, you couldn’t help but find the whole situation kind of funny. here he was, trying his best to be helpful, and all he could come up with were pancakes and vague directions.

“alright, buddy,” you muttered with a sigh, shaking him a little more firmly. “let’s try this again. do you know your address?”

heeseung nodded, then immediately paused, like he’d forgotten what you just asked him. “uh… what was the question?” he mumbled.

you sighed, shaking him a bit harder. “heeseung, please. what’s your address?”

he blinked slowly, and after a few moments, it finally seemed to register. “oh… uh… i live like… three blocks from here? yeah… three blocks,” he muttered, sounding half-asleep but at least coherent enough to give you a real answer.

“three blocks?” you repeated, more to yourself than him. “okay, i can work with that.”

looking down at him, still a complete mess but not entirely unconscious, you steeled yourself for what was coming. “alright, come on,” you said, grabbing his arm and using every bit of strength you had to pull him up. “let’s get you home.”

heeseung stumbled to his feet, barely managing to stay upright as he leaned heavily against you. as you guided him toward the door, his body weight pressing into yours, he gave you this drunken, confused look, his words slurred as he blinked at you in disbelief. “you’re really helping me? why?”

you couldn’t help but laugh a little at how genuinely surprised he sounded. “because i’m not about to let you pass out on some random couch—or worse, end up in a ditch,” you said, rolling your eyes playfully. “someone’s gotta make sure you don’t get lost trying to find your way home.”

heeseung blinked again, his face scrunching up in a mix of confusion and what looked like genuine gratitude. “oh… that’s nice,“ he mumbled, sounding almost touched. "thanks… like, really… that’s… nice.”

you shook your head with a grin, keeping him steady as you both made your way out of the house and into the cool night air. the sounds of the party faded behind you, replaced by the quiet of the neighborhood, the occasional distant car the only noise breaking the stillness.

"it’s no big deal,” you said, adjusting your grip on his arm to keep him from wobbling too much. “just making sure you don’t end up in a situation you’re gonna really regret tomorrow.”

heeseung let out a low, awkward chuckle. “yeah… ‘preciate it. didn’t think anyone’d… care enough to help,” he muttered, still sounding like he couldn’t quite believe you were doing this.

you glanced over at him, his head lolling slightly as he stumbled along. despite his drunken state, you couldn’t help but smile softly. “well, now you know someone does.”

you walked in relative silence for a bit, his steps still unsteady, but he was at least following your lead. but then, halfway to his place, he suddenly mumbled. “man, i was already at jay’s house, though. i could’ve just crashed there… people know me there…” his words dragged out, like he was trying to convince himself of something. “and now i gotta walk home… and… i gotta pee…”

you stopped in your tracks, blinking at him.  oh, my god. he was right. this whole party is at jay’s place. of course he could’ve stayed there. your stomach twisted as the realization sank in. “oh my god, i’m an idiot.”

heeseung, in his drunken haze, nodded solemnly, like you’d just made some grand discovery. “yeah… but i gotta pee though.”

“wait, when i knocked on jay’s door earlier, he sounded super pissed,” you explained quickly, trying to justify your mistake. “i didn’t think he’d let you crash there. he seemed really… busy.”

heeseung blinked a few times, processing your words through his foggy brain before shrugging lazily. “yeah… jay can be a dick when he’s stressed.” he stumbled forward again, catching himself on you. “but, uh… yeah, it’s my fault. i said some dumb shit earlier. no wonder he’s mad.” he sighed, his head hanging lower. “guess i really do need to go home.”

you stood there for a second, letting it all sink in. turning back now seemed pointless. you’d already walked this far, and heeseung himself had admitted that he probably pissed jay off. crashing there would’ve likely been a disaster anyway.

you sighed, adjusting your grip on him again. “well, we’re almost halfway there. might as well keep going,” you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt. “and, uh… we’ll find somewhere for you to pee on the way.”

heeseung let out a half-drunken chuckle. “thanks for… not leaving me in a ditch.”

“yeah, well, you’re welcome. just… don’t pee on yourself, okay?” you teased, shaking your head as a small smile tugged at your lips. the whole situation was absurd, but somehow you were both laughing about it.

“actually… if you could stop here?” heeseung mumbled suddenly, already fumbling with his belt as he swayed slightly. you blinked at him, confused for a second, but then it hit you—he was really about to pee. right here.

“uh, okay, sure,” you muttered, glancing around awkwardly as he stumbled off to the side of the sidewalk, finding a random bush to aim at. you quickly turned your back, trying to give him a bit of privacy, though the whole situation felt ridiculous.

you stared up at the sky, doing your best to pretend this wasn’t happening. this night just keeps getting better, you thought, cringing as the unmistakable sound of him fumbling around and finally peeing filled the air.

heeseung froze midstream, clearly realizing how loud it was. “uh… sorry, this is… louder than i thought,” he mumbled, his voice laced with embarrassment.

you couldn’t help but snort, biting your lip to keep from laughing out loud. “it’s fine, heeseung. just… finish up,” you said, shaking your head, doing your best not to die from secondhand embarrassment. what a mess.

heeseung groaned softly. “i’m so fucking sorry… this is the worst…”

“just… don’t fall over, okay?” you teased, still looking away, but you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

“i'm trying,” he muttered, clearly more embarrassed with every passing second. the sound of his pee hitting the ground seemed to echo in the quiet night, and you could practically feel the heat of his embarrassment radiating off him.

finally, after what felt like the longest, most awkward moment of your life, he zipped up and stumbled back over to you, still red-faced and avoiding your gaze. “okay… all done,” he mumbled, clearly mortified.

“great,” you said, trying to sound upbeat as you started walking again. “let’s never speak of this again.”

as you reached out to steady him, your arm slipping around his waist to support him for the walk ahead, heeseung suddenly jerked back a little, still wobbly but clearly distressed. “shit… i didn’t wash my hands,” he mumbled, voice thick with drunken regret, like this was the worst thing that had happened all night.

you couldn’t hold it in anymore. a loud, genuine laugh burst out of you, echoing down the quiet street. “oh my god, heeseung, it’s fine,” you managed between fits of laughter, your shoulders shaking as you tried to hold yourself together. “we’ll survive.”

he blinked at you, his expression confused and a little lost, staring at his hands like they were contaminated with something deadly. “but, like… germs,” he slurred, his face scrunched in concern.

“it’s fine,” you repeated, still giggling as you shook your head at the absurdity of the situation. “we’ve been through so much tonight. i think i’ll survive without you washing your hands.”

heeseung squinted at you for a second, then let out a small, sheepish laugh. “yeah… okay,” he muttered, stumbling back toward you. “but, like… sorry.”

“no need to apologize for that,” you said, still grinning as you slipped your arm back around him, helping him walk again, this time without him pulling away. “you’re not the first drunk person to forget about hygiene.”

he chuckled, leaning heavily on you as you both continued down the street, a little more relaxed now that the awkwardness had passed. “still… i’m a mess, huh?” he mumbled, more to himself than to you.

“yeah,” you agreed with a soft smile, keeping him steady. “but it’s okay.”

because it was heeseung. no matter how messy, awkward, or downright ridiculous the night had been, it was perfect in its own weird way. the fact that you were here with him—this version of him, drunken, embarrassed, and just so him—made it feel like something special.

heeseung, oblivious to the thoughts running through your mind, kept leaning on you, muttering little apologies under his breath, his head hanging low as he walked. but you couldn’t stop smiling. you could’ve left him at the party, passed out and miserable, let him wake up tomorrow with no memory of any of this. but instead, you were here, guiding him home, laughing at his drunken antics, and feeling this strange sense of contentment.

he might forget everything by morning—forget the dumb pick-up line, the awkwardness, even this entire walk home. but you wouldn’t. this wasn’t perfect by any traditional standard, but it was real. and in its own way, that made it… kind of perfect.

as you both continued walking, the night air cool around you, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. this moment, as strange and chaotic as it was, felt like yours to hold onto.

finally, after what felt like forever, you made it to heeseung’s house. your legs ached a little from the walk, but relief washed over you as you stood in front of his door. you reached out and rang the doorbell, hoping someone inside would answer and help you out.

nothing.

you rang it again. still nothing.

“come on,” you muttered under your breath, glancing over at heeseung, who was leaning against the wall beside the door, half out of it. he was barely holding himself up, his head bobbing as he blinked slowly at the house.

“heeseung,” you said, nudging him lightly. “do you have a key or something?”

he mumbled something incoherent, still not exactly helping the situation. you sighed, running a hand through your hair as you tried to figure out what to do next. standing there for what felt like forever, you finally turned to him again.

“heeseung, come on. help me out here. do you even live here?”

he blinked a few more times, his expression blank before he suddenly focused on the door. “oh… wait… yeah, it’s unlocked,” he slurred, like it had just occurred to him.

you stared at him, a mix of disbelief and amusement washing over you. “seriously? you could’ve mentioned that ten minutes ago.”

heeseung just grinned sleepily. “sorry… drunk.”

you sighed, shaking your head as you reached for the door handle and pushed it open. “alright, let’s get you inside.”

you helped him inside, guiding him carefully through the doorway, but the second you stepped into the dimly lit entrance, hesitation washed over you. you glanced at heeseung, who was barely able to stand, his body weight practically leaning on you, and then around the quiet house. should you even be here?

“um… are you sure i should help you in?” you asked, unsure if you were overstepping. the last thing you wanted was to intrude, but the thought of leaving him in this state alone didn’t sit right either.

heeseung gave a lazy nod, still leaning heavily on you, his words slurred. “yeah… i’m good. you’re good. ‘s fine,” he mumbled, though the way he said it wasn’t exactly convincing.

you carefully stepped inside, trying not to make too much noise just in case his parents were home. the last thing you needed was to wake them up and have to explain why their son was stumbling around like he’d just lost a fight with a bottle of vodka. tiptoeing through the house, your nerves on edge, you glanced around—it was eerily quiet.

“heeseung… where’s your room?” you whispered, praying he’d give you a straight answer.

he squinted at you like you’d asked him to solve a riddle. “uh… upstairs? or… maybe… downstairs?” he mumbled, clearly just as lost in his own house as you were.

he thought about it for another second before nodding. “upstairs… definitely upstairs,” he slurred, as if he’d finally cracked the code.

you gave him a skeptical look but decided to roll with it. slowly, you began leading him up the stairs, each step feeling like an exercise in stealth, hoping with every creak that no one else would wake up. your heart raced a little more with every step, praying you’d get to his room without waking anyone.

at the top of the stairs, you paused, glancing down the hallway. “okay, which one’s your room?” you asked quietly.

heeseung blinked, swaying a little as he pointed down the hall. “uh… second door on the right? yeah, that’s it,” he mumbled, his voice full of uncertainty.

you sighed but figured it was the best lead you had. guiding him to the door, you opened it slowly, half-expecting it to be the wrong room.

“alright, home sweet home,” you whispered as you helped him inside. “now let’s get you into bed before you pass out in the hallway.”

as you stepped into his room, his scent hit you instantly—a mix of something clean but a little musky, warm, and somehow comforting. your heart fluttered for a moment, and you took in your surroundings. the room was exactly what you’d expected, messy but lived-in. clothes were strewn across the floor, his gaming setup in the corner, and his bed, barely made, was in complete disarray. it was so… him.

distracted by the details of his space, you shook it off and focused on the task at hand. get him to the bed.  guiding him over to the mattress, you gently helped him sit down. he flopped back with a groan, limbs heavy and uncooperative, sprawling across the bed in a way that made you shake your head.

as you were about to leave him to sleep it off, you noticed how dry and cracked his lips were. he’s gotta be dehydrated, you thought, glancing around the room for something. you spotted a half-full water bottle on his desk and grabbed it, kneeling beside the bed.

“hey, heeseung, drink this,” you said softly, nudging his shoulder to wake him enough to take a sip. “come on, you’ll feel better.”

he blinked groggily, clearly struggling to stay awake, but when he saw the water, he mumbled something incoherent and reached out slowly. you guided the bottle to his lips, tipping it carefully as he took a few slow, sloppy sips. a bit of water spilled down his chin, but he managed to drink most of it.

“there you go,” you murmured, using your sleeve to wipe the droplets from his face. “better?”

he hummed softly, his eyes already closing again, the water seemingly calming him a little. “thanks…” he muttered, his voice barely audible as he sank deeper into the bed, finally looking more comfortable.

you couldn’t help but smile at how helpless he looked, sprawled out like a kid who’d played too hard and crashed. he was a mess, but god, you couldn’t deny how endearing he was in this state. with a soft sigh, you stood there for a moment longer, just taking him in—his messy hair, flushed face, the way he was finally peaceful after such a chaotic night.

“thanks, heeseung, i had a lot of fun,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him, knowing he wouldn’t hear or remember any of this. it didn’t matter, though. this night had been something you’d treasure, as imperfect as it was.

you pulled out your phone, glancing at the screen, debating whether to text someone for a ride home. as you turned to leave, ready to let him sleep off the rest of his drunken haze, you suddenly felt a tug on your arm. your heart jumped in your chest.

heeseung had grabbed your wrist, his grip clumsy but just firm enough to stop you from walking away. you turned, wide-eyed, looking down at him. he was still half-asleep, his eyes barely open, but the message was clear—he didn’t want you to leave.

“where’re you going?” heeseung slurred, his voice low and heavy with sleep, but the question hit you harder than you expected. your pulse raced, caught completely off guard by the way he held onto your wrist, his grip firm enough to keep you there. for a moment, you couldn’t even find the words to respond.

“home,” you finally managed to whisper, your heart pounding in your chest. his hand was hot against your skin, and despite how out of it he was, heeseung managed to pull you closer. before you knew it, you were standing right at the edge of his bed, his sleepy eyes blinking up at you like he was trying to figure out what to say next.

heeseung stared at you, his brow furrowed in concentration as if he was trying to fight through the fog in his brain. “you… don’t have to go,” he mumbled, slurring his words but sounding oddly sincere. “i… i’m really glad you helped me and… y’know, stayed.”

you raised an eyebrow, half amused and half confused. “heeseung, you’re drunk.”

he groaned softly, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. “yeah, but… i don’t want you to leave yet,” he admitted, his voice nervous as his eyes darted away. then, out of nowhere, he blurted, “you can… maybe just… stay here?” the moment the words left his mouth, his face flushed deep red, and he quickly backpedaled. “i mean—not like that! i mean, we could… like, just…”

he trailed off, clearly mortified, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly at his awkwardness. “what are you trying to say, heeseung?” you teased, watching as his face grew even redder.

he sputtered, clearly struggling to string together a coherent thought. “i—I’m not asking you to sleep with me! i just meant—you could, uh, cuddle? if you wanted to?” his voice grew quieter with each word, until he was practically whispering, his eyes wide with embarrassment.

you stifled a laugh, shaking your head. “heeseung, you don’t even know me,” you said teasingly, though your heart was doing flips at how vulnerable he was being.

he looked up at you, his eyes a little glassy but serious despite the alcohol clouding his mind. “i… i know enough,” he mumbled, his words slow and slurred. “you’re not dangerous. and you kept up with me even when i was, uh, difficult.”

he tugged on your wrist gently again, his expression almost pleading. “just… please?” he asked softly. “it’s… nice when you’re here.”

your heart melted a little at his honesty, and you let out a quiet sigh before sitting down on the edge of his bed. the moment you did, his grip on your wrist loosened, and heeseung gave you a sleepy, grateful smile. “thank you,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper.

he blinked up at you with his heavy-lidded eyes, his face still flushed with both drunkenness and embarrassment. “so, um…” he slurred, clearly nervous, “how can i politely ask you to allow me to cuddle you?”

you couldn’t help but laugh softly at how ridiculous he sounded. in all his drunken glory, he somehow managed to be both an absolute mess and the sweetest guy in the room. as he sluggishly shifted toward the pillows, his movements slow and awkward, it was clear he was urging you to follow him, his hand still loosely holding onto yours.

you stared at him, unsure if you should actually move closer, but heeseung was fully beckoning you, his eyes droopy yet focused on you, like he wasn’t going to let you leave without getting his way.

“uh…” you hesitated. “heeseung, I don’t think you’re exactly in your right mind right now.”

he looked up at you with the most pitiful puppy-dog eyes, a sleepy smile tugging at his lips. “but… i really wanna cuddle,” he mumbled, his voice soft and a little pleading. “and you’re… really comfy-looking.”

“comfy-looking?” you repeated, biting back a laugh.

he nodded, his head bobbing lazily as he made grabby hands at you from the bed. “yeah… you’re like… a human pillow or something.”

you snorted at that. a human pillow? only heeseung could make something that ridiculous sound like a compliment.

“come on,” he muttered, slurring his words even more as he patted the spot beside him. “just… for a bit. i’ll be good, i swear.”

with a sigh, you finally gave in, sitting down beside him on the bed. “okay, but if you drool on me, I’m leaving,” you teased, though your heart was hammering in your chest.

heeseung grinned lazily, clearly pleased with himself, and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “deal,” he mumbled, already half-buried under the blankets, his breath warm against your shoulder.

“wow, you smell good,” he mumbled sleepily against your shoulder, his voice thick with drowsiness but laced with genuine appreciation. his nose brushed lightly against your skin as he inhaled deeply, like he was savoring the scent.

you froze, your heart pounding in your chest. was this really happening? heeseung was cuddled up next to you, telling you that you smelled good, like it was the most casual thing in the world, while your brain was going into overdrive.

“you smell like…” he paused, his words slow and thoughtful despite his drunken state, “like… vanilla. and… something warm, like fresh laundry.”

you blinked, caught off guard by how oddly specific his observation was. vanilla? fresh laundry? it wasn’t anything special, just the everyday scent of you—clean, comfortable, and familiar. and somehow, even in his drunken haze, he’d picked up on that.

your cheeks flushed as he snuggled closer, his arm loosely draped around your waist, his warmth radiating against you. is this real? your mind screamed as your heart raced, pounding in your chest like it was about to explode.

heeseung nuzzled closer, his breath tickling the side of your neck as he lazily muttered, "yeah, like… really comfy. you feel… safe.” his voice trailed off, and for a moment, you thought he was finally drifting off to sleep.

but then, you felt it—something unmistakable pressing lightly against your thigh.

was he…? your brain scrambled, trying to process the situation as the atmosphere shifted from soft and sweet to something entirely different. heeseung, still half-drunk and completely unaware of what he was doing, shifted closer, his body pressing tightly against yours. his arm around your waist pulled you into him, and he let out a soft sigh, completely oblivious to the storm he was creating inside you. your mind was a mess, caught between pure panic and disbelief. part of you wanted to wake him up, shake him out of this, and bolt for the door. but the other part of you… the part that didn’t want to admit how much you liked this, that part wanted to stay.

you shifted, trying to pull away, to put some distance between you and heeseung, but your body betrayed you, jerking forward in an awkward attempt to escape. and that’s when it got worse. every time you moved, he pressed closer, chasing the warmth of your body like he was seeking comfort. the way he nestled against you, so warm, so close—it made your mind spiral with thoughts you couldn’t control.

oh god, how big is he? the question flashed through your mind before you could stop it, heat rushing to your face as your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. stop it, stop thinking like that, you scolded yourself, but it was impossible. his body was too close, too solid, too… there.

you swallowed hard, guilt creeping in as you realized that, drunk or not, heeseung had no idea what he was doing. he’s drunk, you reminded yourself. he doesn’t know.  but every time you shifted to create some space, he followed, letting out a soft, sleepy groan and instinctively pressing deeper into you.

and before you knew it, his body had nestled itself right between your thighs. your breath caught in your throat, and every little movement from him sent a ticklish, torturous sensation through you. you tried to ignore it, to focus on anything else, but then his hard length brushed against your clothed core, and your hips jerked involuntarily, a wave of panic and heat spreading through you.

oh fuck, this is bad. you could feel it—feel yourself getting wet, and your mind screamed at you to do something, anything, to get out of this situation before it got worse. but heeseung, completely unaware, kept moving closer, his body acting on autopilot, chasing the comfort of your warmth.

you froze, caught between the desire that was creeping in and the guilt that was clawing at your conscience. what the hell were you supposed to do now? your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions—desire, confusion, guilt, panic. you were stuck, unable to pull yourself away, and then the worst thing happened.

a soft, unexpected moan slipped from your lips.

the second the sound left your mouth, heeseung’s breathing changed. it became heavier, more deliberate, like he was responding to the noise. a low groan rumbled from him, and though his movements were sluggish, they felt more… intentional.

his hot breath fanned over your ear, and before you could stop yourself, you turned your head, desperate to see if he was awake—if he was really aware of what he was doing. and that’s when your eyes met his.

your breath hitched.

he was already looking at you, his eyes half-lidded and dazed, but there was an intensity behind them that made your pulse race. but the more you stared, the more you realized—he wasn’t fully there. his eyelids fluttered, his gaze distant, but somehow still focused on you.

he let out another low groan, his voice raspy as he mumbled, “this feels… good…” his words were slurred, heavy with sleep and alcohol, but the raw honesty in them sent a shiver down your spine.

his hand brushed lightly against your side, his fingers grazing your waist, and another soft groan escaped him as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. he nuzzled against you like he was sinking deeper into a dream, his body responding to yours without any awareness of the chaos he was causing.

his breathing grew more ragged, and his grip on you tightened, like he was afraid you’d slip away. “no… you can’t leave…” he muttered, his voice shaky and filled with a desperation that made your heart pound. “you’re not real… it’s a dream… just a dream…”

the conviction in his voice was clear—he thought this was all a dream. he was convinced that none of this was real, that you weren’t really there, that everything was part of some fantasy his drunken mind had created. a pretty girl in his bed, your warmth against his body, your scent filling his senses—it was too perfect for him to believe it was real.

heeseung inhaled deeply, as if trying to memorize the way you smelled. “wow…” he whispered, his voice low and rough, sending another shiver down your spine as your back arched involuntarily. “no… don’t go.”

his grip on you tightened, becoming more possessive, as if holding onto you would keep the dream from slipping away. his fingers, trembling slightly now, traced the side of your waist, slipping under your top. his touch was tentative, almost like he was confirming that you were still there, that this dream of his hadn’t disappeared.

and with each touch, your body reacted, your stomach clenching, your thighs pressing together as you felt yourself getting wetter by the second. his fingers danced across your skin, soft and slow, and you could barely breathe.

heeseung’s desperation grew with each passing second, his movements more deliberate, needier, as his lips pressed warm, clumsy kisses along your neck. each kiss sent jolts of electricity through your body, and despite the alarm bells blaring in your mind, you felt yourself relaxing into his touch. god, you couldn’t help it.

there was an unexpected tenderness in the way his lips moved against your skin, a slow, deliberate trail that made your heart race, pounding so hard it almost hurt. part of you knew you should stop this, pull away before it went any further. but then heeseung groaned softly, his lips pressing a little harder as he bit down gently on your neck, and the last of your resistance melted away.

you were drunk too, the alcohol lowering your inhibitions, making your body react without thinking. every kiss, every touch, left your skin tingling, and you let out a shaky breath, barely able to hold back the moan that slipped from your lips. instinctively, you tilted your head back, giving him more access as your hands gripped the fabric of his shirt, your mind lost in the moment.

but then you felt him shifting, his hands fumbling as he slowly tugged down his pants, and panic sliced through the fog in your mind. heeseung, wait, you thought, but your voice came out shaky. “this isn’t a dream,” you whispered, but it was like he didn’t hear you—or worse, he didn’t believe it.

he let out a low, frustrated groan, shaking his head. “no… you’re not getting away this time,” he mumbled, his words thick with need. “just… let me put it in. please.” his voice was so desperate, filled with a longing that made your heart twist in your chest. it was like he had begged for this in his dreams, over and over again.

the sound of his cock slapping against his stomach was unmistakable, and your mind reeled as you heard him whine, “i’m so horny,” his tone almost childlike in its frustration, like he couldn’t handle being denied any longer. his hand wrapped around his length, and you could feel the heat radiating off him as he positioned himself, dangerously close to you.

the air between you felt thick, heavy with tension. he shifted again, and then he asked, almost too dejectedly, “do you really not wanna do it?” the way his voice cracked slightly, the vulnerability in his tone, made your stomach churn with guilt.  god, yes, you thought. you do want this. but he was drunk, confused, and he had no idea what he was doing.

before you could find the words to say anything, you felt him. the tip of his cock brushed against your damp, clothed core, and you let out a shaky gasp. “please,” he whispered, not giving you a chance to speak, his voice laced with desperation.

oh fuck it.

before you even realized it, your body was moving on its own, pulling him closer, your hands reaching behind to grip his waist and press him against you. the desperation in his voice, the raw need in his movements—it was contagious, wrapping around you like a fever, and any trace of rational thought disappeared.

heeseung groaned softly, his breath hot against your neck as his hips moved more frantically, grinding against you with a helpless urgency. his cock, hard and throbbing, dragged along your clothed pussy, sending shivers up your spine with every slow, torturous movement. you could feel every pulse, every inch of him pressed so close, teasing you.

his tip grazed the entrance of your pussy, the friction lighting up your body, making you gasp. “fuck,” you whispered, your hips rolling against his, your body responding to his every move. each drag of his cock against you only made you wetter, the thin fabric of your underwear soaked from the tension building between you.

heeseung’s breath came in heavy pants, his head resting against your shoulder as he let out a soft whine. it was like he couldn’t get enough of you, his body chasing the friction, the need to be closer, to feel more. “mhmm… yes, god yes,” he muttered, his voice thick and broken, filled with raw need.

any hesitation you had melted away, consumed by the heat of the moment. all that mattered now was this—the way heeseung’s body was pressed against yours, his hands gripping your waist like he was holding on for dear life, his cock rubbing against you with a desperate intensity.

“please,” he whined again, his voice trembling, thick with need. his hips stuttered against yours, the friction driving him wild as he ground into you, chasing that feeling that seemed just out of reach. “just… let me… just a little more…”

his lips brushed against your ear, his voice barely a whisper, shaking with desperation. “just the tip? please?”

the way he spoke, his voice filled with such need, sent a shiver down your spine. you could feel him, pressing against the entrance of your pussy, his cock straining, desperate for just a little more.

every nerve in your body lit up in response, your skin tingling with anticipation. you knew you shouldn’t cross this line, knew it was wrong, but the way heeseung begged—how could you say no?

just the tip, he had said, like it was the simplest thing in the world. and fuck, you wanted it. more than anything in that moment, your body was screaming for it.

your breath came out shaky as you considered it, your hips tilting up ever so slightly, pressing against him. you wiggled your hips, testing the waters, wanting to see how he’d react.

heeseung gasped, his body trembling against yours as you teased him. his reaction was immediate, a soft, needy groan slipping past his lips. “please… stop teasing,” he murmured, his voice husky, desperate. “let me feel your pussy…”

the nerves that had been creeping up on you only made the moment more intense. your hands trembled slightly as you slowly lifted your skirt, the fabric bunching around your waist. each movement was heavy with anticipation, your breath hitching as you hooked your fingers into the waistband of your panties and tugged them down, shakily. the cool air hit your skin, and the awareness of how wet and ready you were for him made your head spin.

you weren’t a virgin, but god, the intensity of this moment made you feel like you were crossing some new, dangerous line—and you loved it.

heeseung propped himself up on his elbow, his eyes locking onto yours as his hands gently cupped your cheeks, pulling you closer. the desperation in his gaze was undeniable—he needed to see you, to watch every flicker of emotion cross your face as the intensity of the moment built between you. his breath came out in shaky pants, his gaze half-lidded, filled with hunger and disbelief.

“please…” he whispered, his voice raw and filled with awe as he leaned in, his hands sliding down your body to grip your thigh, pulling it up toward your chest. the closeness, the need between you two, had your heart racing, matching his shallow, ragged breaths.

his eyes darkened with need as he released his cock, painfully hard, guiding it toward your exposed entrance. “just the tip,” he repeated, his voice trembling with desperation, like he was trying to convince both of you to believe it was enough. his hands shook slightly as he held your thigh in place, steadying himself as the head of his cock brushed against your wet, sensitive entrance.

the warmth of him teased your slick folds, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. despite the nervous flutter in your stomach, there was no turning back. heeseung let out a soft, needy groan as he slowly pushed the tip inside, the stretch immediate. your pussy tightened around him, the sensation overwhelming, and you gasped, your body instinctively responding to the pleasure of him barely entering you.

as he eased the tip in further, heeseung grunted, his breath hitching in his throat as your tightness enveloped him. the warmth, the snug grip of your body around him—he hadn’t expected it to feel this good. not like this. his jaw went slack, a low, breathless moan escaping his lips as his head tilted back, his eyes squeezing shut in pure bliss.

heeseung trembled, overwhelmed by how easily he slid inside, the pleasure shooting through his body like fire. “fuck,” he rasped, his hands gripping your thigh tighter as he tried to hold himself back, his body shaking with the effort. but the feeling of you wrapped around him, even with just the tip, was driving him insane.

“ohhh yes…” he groaned, his fingers digging into your hips as though you were his lifeline. his body trembled as he fought to maintain control, the promise of “just the tip” quickly slipping from his mind. you could feel his desperation in the way he shook, the tension in his muscles as he struggled to keep his word. but the way your body clenched around him, how tight and wet you were, made it nearly impossible for him to stop.

heeseung’s head lolled forward, his eyes glazed with lust as he gazed down at you, panting heavily. “so… fucking tight,” he muttered, his voice trembling, barely able to form the words as the pleasure overwhelmed him. his cock throbbed inside you, each pulse sending a wave of pleasure through both of you, his body clearly begging for more, desperate to push deeper, to give in to the need that was consuming him.

he was trying so hard, his breath shaky and shallow as he struggled to hold back. the slick between your legs coated his cock, making every movement feel so much more intense. “wow, you’re so wet,” he whispered, his voice quivering with awe and raw need. there was a frantic edge to his words, like he couldn’t believe what was happening, but he also couldn’t stop himself from craving more. his body shook with restraint, but the desperation spilling from his lips betrayed him.

“please… it feels so good,” he whimpered, his hips stuttering as he slid the tip in and out, teasing both of you. the sound of his cock moving against you, the slickness of your arousal, only made you both want more. every time he pulled back, the sensation left you aching, desperate for him to push further.

“can i… just a little more?” heeseung begged, his voice cracking as he gently pushed the head of his cock in again, only to pull it back out with trembling restraint. “your voice, your wet pussy… fuck… i can’t hold back,” he mumbled, his words coming out in shaky, breathless pants.

heeseung’s fingers dug into your skin, holding on for dear life as he fought the overwhelming urge to push deeper. you could see it in his eyes, the battle he was losing, the way his body was shaking, desperate to feel more of you.

despite how much you wanted it too, you found the strength to shake your head. “no,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, trying to hold on to some control in the situation. you couldn’t let this go any further.

heeseung let out a soft, defeated whine, his head dropping in frustration as he continued to thrust the tip of his cock in and out, his body visibly trembling from the effort of holding back. “okay… okay… 'm sorry, just the tip,” he repeated, his voice filled with both submission and longing, his hips grinding slightly against you despite his promise. he was trying so hard, you could see it in the way his muscles tensed, his hands gripping your hips as though they were the only thing grounding him. “i’ll be good, i’m trying not to put it all in, i promise… just the tip,” he mumbled again, like he was convincing himself just as much as he was you. his hips jerked forward in short, erratic bursts, trying to keep the sensation alive without pushing deeper. every tiny movement made him shudder, his breath catching with every second that passed.

“f-fuck…” heeseung stuttered, his inexperience painfully clear in every shaky breath, every clumsy but eager movement. he was overwhelmed. completely lost in the sensation of your pussy, barely able to comprehend the pleasure that had him teetering on the edge.

“holy fuck… it's—” his voice cracked as his hips jerked forward again, the tiny thrusts barely giving him relief, yet still too much for him to handle. his hands clutched your hips tighter, his body trembling as he struggled to maintain control, but the way you squeezed around him, how tight you felt, made him shudder.

you could feel his desperation in every sloppy, uncoordinated thrust. his lips parted, little gasps and whimpers escaping every time he pushed just barely inside you, the sensation clearly overwhelming him.  he was fucking adorable, the way he whined, the way his voice broke with every breath, the way his whole body trembled in need.

“you’re s-squeezing me,” he stuttered, his forehead pressing against your shoulder, his breath hot and shaky against your skin, making everything feel that much more intense. you couldn’t help it—your hips began moving on their own, rolling into him, meeting his small, desperate thrusts. your fingers dug into the sheets, and you gave in, pushing back against him, taking his cock bit by bit, your body responding to his in a way that made you crave more.

“shit,” heeseung whimpered, his voice breathless, on the verge of losing control. “oh god, i’m actually inside you… i-i…” his confession was innocent, almost vulnerable, and it sent a fresh wave of heat rushing through your body, turning you on even more.

“yes, that feels so good…” you whispered shakily, your words heavy with pleasure. it did feel good, despite his inexperience, despite his trembling hands and ragged breath. he was making you feel so fucking good, and it was impossible to deny it.

you moaned louder, your hips rocking back against him, each thrust from him fueling your own need. he was desperate, but so were you.

as you took him deeper inside you, you both gasped in unison. the stretch of him filling you was intense—he was bigger than you expected, and the way he fit inside you, stretching you so perfectly, made you cry out. your hips picked up the pace, sliding up and down his cock with an eager, desperate rhythm. the need to feel him deeper, harder, consumed you.

“fuck, heeseung, you’re stretching me so good,” you gasped, your voice dripping with lust. your walls clenched around him, wet and tight, and each time he responded with a breathless hitch, his whole body trembling beneath you.

“i can’t…” he whimpered, his voice cracking, overwhelmed by the sensation. his hands gripped your hips, trying to steady himself, but he was just as lost in the moment as you were.

his jaw hung slack, his eyes fluttering shut as he whimpered softly, his hands gripping your hips even tighter. he was struggling, unable to keep up with the rhythm you set, his movements sloppy and unfocused. you could feel it—he was on the verge of losing control.

then, it happened—a loud, choked sound escaped him, followed by a shudder that rocked his entire body. his breath caught in his throat, his jaw clenching as a deep, desperate moan tore from his lips. “oh—oh fuck, agh!” he gasped, his voice cracking as he shook beneath you.

before you could fully register what was happening, you felt it—the sudden warmth flooding inside you as he came, hard. his hips jerked wildly, his cock twitching uncontrollably as he spilled into you, his entire body trembling with the force of his orgasm. he tried to hold back, tried to last longer, but it was too much—he was too inexperienced, too caught up in the moment to stop himself.

“oh shit, no,” heeseung whined, his voice barely audible, his hands clutching your waist as he struggled to catch his breath. his eyes were squeezed shut in a mix of embarrassment and lingering pleasure, his face flushed as his chest heaved from the intensity of his release. you could feel his frustration radiating off him as he came down from his high, clearly upset with himself for losing control so quickly.

heeseung’s eyes fluttered open briefly, his gaze hazy and dazed, looking up at you with a mix of shame and apology. “i’m… i’m so sorry,” he mumbled, his voice weak and slurred, struggling to get the words out. “i couldn’t hold it in…” regret washed over his face, his brow furrowing in disappointment as his body sagged beneath you, the exhaustion from the night quickly taking over.

“m’ sorry…” he slurred one last time, his voice barely a whisper before his head lolled back against the pillow, completely spent. his grip on your waist loosened, his hands falling away as his body succumbed to sleep, leaving you on top of him, alone with your thoughts. his chest rose and fell steadily, his breath evening out as he drifted into a deep, drunken slumber, completely unaware of the turmoil swirling inside you.

you sat there for a moment, still processing everything that had just happened. your body still buzzed with the warmth of desire, but it was unfulfilled, leaving you aching with a strange mix of emotions. even so, you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips as you looked down at heeseung, now passed out beneath you, his face soft and peaceful in the dim light.

oh, heeseung, you thought, shaking your head softly, letting out a quiet sigh.

as you caught your breath, you took in the sight of him—his face completely relaxed, the tension from earlier gone, leaving him looking innocent, almost angelic.  you like him so much. the way he had been so desperate, so shy and eager to please—it made your heart swell with affection, despite the mess of the situation.

but then reality hit you like a cold splash of water. shit, he really came inside me. panic bubbled up for a moment, but it quickly faded as you remembered—you’re on birth control. everything was safe, and relief washed over you. thank god for that, you thought, running a hand through your hair as you tried to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions.

you glanced back down at him, his face still slack, peaceful, completely unaware of the chaos he had just been part of. what a night. you couldn’t help but chuckle softly to yourself, the absurdity of it all settling in.

but as much as that warmth lingered, as much as you liked heeseung, the weight of the situation started to press down on you. things are complicated now. really complicated. the intensity and desire of the night didn’t erase the fact that it had been a mess from the start.

sure, he was home now, safe in his bed, and that was the least of your concerns. if you left, he’d be fine, but the thought of facing him in the morning, with both of you piecing together the night’s events, made you feel uneasy.  no, you couldn’t stay.  leaving seemed like the best option, for both of you. it was better to avoid the awkwardness and confusion that would come when the alcohol wore off, leaving only the raw reality behind.

quietly, you moved around the room, making sure he was tucked in comfortably. you adjusted the blanket over him with care, your fingers brushing lightly against his skin as you pulled the covers up to his chest. as you stood there, looking down at his sleeping face—peaceful and completely unaware of everything—despite the chaos of the night, it had been special.

messy, chaotic, and complicated, but in its own strange way, one of the best nights you’d ever had.

you leaned down slightly, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead, whispering, “thank you,” even though he couldn’t hear you. heeseung remained still, breathing deeply, lost in whatever dreams his drunken mind had drifted to.

with one last lingering look, you quietly slipped out of his room, closing the door softly behind you.  it was time to go.

as you made your way out of his house, your mind raced, replaying everything that had just happened. how did it even get to this point? just hours ago, you had been at that party—drinking, laughing, watching heeseung from across the room like you always did, quietly from the sidelines. everything seemed so normal then. and yet, somehow, the night had spiraled into something else entirely. the walk home, guiding his stumbling, drunk self, making sure he didn’t end up passed out on the sidewalk somewhere. you had seen his room, tucked him into bed, made sure he was safe. how did it escalate from that to…

you stopped in your tracks, eyes widening as a sudden realization hit you like a punch to the gut. fuck, he probably doesn’t even know your name. you never mentioned it, and he was too drunk to ask. not once did heeseung stop to question how you knew his name, or why you were even with him. the entire night had unfolded in a blur of concern, awkwardness, and then passion, but through it all, not once had you introduced yourself.

the more you thought about it, the more absurd the whole thing seemed. it wasn’t just some drunken mistake—it was more than that. you’d shared something with him, even if it was messy, rushed, and impulsive. something had happened between the two of you, something raw and unexpected.

but maybe… maybe it didn’t need to mean anything. maybe it was okay for it to just be what it was—a fleeting moment, chaotic and imperfect, but still somehow… perfect in its own strange way.

as you walked down the quiet street, the cool night air filling your lungs, you felt your head begin to clear. the more you thought about it, the more you realized you were content. you didn’t need heeseung to remember every detail, or even remember your name. it didn’t matter if he never asked who you were, or if he didn’t wake up in the morning knowing what had happened between the two of you.

it was enough that it happened at all.

heeseung, with all his shyness and awkwardness, had let you in. he had been vulnerable with you—drunk as he was, yes, but still, he’d let his guard down in a way that felt meaningful to you. even if he didn’t remember, even if it never came up again, you would still have this night to hold onto.

a soft sigh escaped your lips as a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. it didn’t need to be more than that. you didn’t need answers, or closure, or some kind of follow-up. this night had been unexpected, but it was yours now—yours to keep, to remember, to cherish in your own way.

for the first time since the night began, you felt a sense of peace settle over you. it didn’t need to be perfect. it didn’t need to be anything at all, really. what mattered was that it had happened, and that, in its own way, it had been exactly what you needed.

and as you walked away, disappearing into the night, you felt lighter, more content. this moment, chaotic and impulsive as it was, belonged to you now, and that was enough.

heeseung groaned, his head pounding like someone was hammering nails into his skull. every throb behind his eyes made him wince, the hangover hitting him like a truck. he shifted under the covers, pulling the blanket over his face to block out the harsh light cutting through the room. his throat felt like sandpaper, mouth tasting like something had died in it. he blinked, trying to shake off the fog clinging to his brain. what the hell happened last night?

“wasn’t i at jay’s?” he muttered, squeezing his temples, trying to force some clarity through the pounding headache.

he pushed himself up slowly, blinking through the haze, but panic already began settling in his chest. his clothes were a mess—pants barely hanging on, his boxers sticky with dried cum. wait… what the fuck? his brows knitted together, confusion swirling in his mind. this wasn’t just the aftermath of a wet dream. something felt different. the smell in the room… it was strong, musky. sex. it had to be. but it wasn’t just his usual scent. this was unfamiliar, unsettling even.

he sat up fully, heart pounding as he scrambled to piece together what had happened. did i have some crazy dream? shit, i can’t remember. he tried to shake it off, telling himself he was probably just being paranoid. maybe jay brought me home, and i’m overthinking it.

but the thought didn’t sit right. jay wouldn’t drag my ass home like that, he thought, especially not when he was wasted. no, something else was off. that’s when it hit him—the scent. he inhaled cautiously, slow and deliberate. was that… vanilla? it was faint but clung to the air around him, something soft, delicate, feminine. his chest tightened with unease.

how the hell would a woman’s scent be here? he thought, his pulse quickening. there’s no way. i don’t have that kind of luck. if something did happen, she probably left the second she realized what a fuck-up he was.

“what the hell?” he mumbled, throwing himself back onto the bed, frustration spiking. nothing was adding up, no matter how hard he tried to piece it together. every time he reached for a memory, it slipped away, like water through his fingers. but the scent lingered. it was like a soft whisper of something that had happened, something real, something he couldn’t quite grasp.

and he liked it. god, as confusing as it was, that scent—it was comforting, like a warm hug wrapped around him.

he shook his head, deciding to push the thoughts away. maybe jay—or someone else—brought me home, he reasoned, and the rest was just a weird, jumbled mess in my head.  yeah, that had to be it. he rubbed his temples in a futile attempt to ease the pounding in his skull, letting out a long sigh.

he flopped back onto the pillows, pulling the blanket up to his chin, his eyes fluttering shut as he tried to block out the chaos in his mind. whatever it was… it didn’t matter. if something had happened, he couldn’t remember it now. and maybe that was for the best.

he took one last breath, the faint scent of vanilla lingering in the air around him, and allowed himself to drift back into the haze of sleep, convincing himself that when he woke up, everything would make sense again.

heeseung dragged himself across campus, head still pounding from the aftermath of last night, a heavy knot twisting in his stomach as he neared jay. this is gonna be rough, he thought, each step feeling heavier as he approached. jay stood by the wall, arms crossed, eyes narrowed in anger—still pissed, and heeseung knew there was no easy way around it.

“yo, jay,” heeseung started, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, avoiding jay’s glare. “did you take me home last night? 'cause, uh, I honestly don’t remember shit after you… well, after you kicked me out.”

jay’s glare deepened, and the irritation practically radiated off him. “nah, man, i didn’t take you home. why the hell would i after you fucking ruined my shot with her? figured you’d just pass out in the living room or something. i wasn’t about to deal with your drunk ass.”

heeseung’s stomach churned. fuck, guilt weighing down on him even more. he had hoped maybe jay had cooled off, but hearing it so bluntly only made it worse. “look, man, i’m sorry,” heeseung muttered, his shoulders slumping. “i was wasted. i didn’t mean to bring her up like that. shit just slipped out.”

jay’s eyes rolled, sharp as a blade. “yeah, well, you didn’t just bring her up, heeseung. you made it sound like i was screwing around with other girls or some shit. like, seriously? i finally got the confidence to talk to her after losing my virginity, and you just shit all over it.”

heeseung winced, feeling the weight of his own stupidity. “fuck, dude. i didn’t mean to screw it up for you. i’m really sorry.”

jay sighed, the tension still there, but starting to thaw. they’d been friends too long for one drunken mistake to completely shatter things. deep down, jay knew heeseung wasn’t trying to sabotage anything—he was just a dumbass when he drank too much.

“yeah, well, next time, don’t be such a fucking idiot,” jay muttered, though his tone had softened. “you shouldn’t even be getting that drunk and saying stupid shit like that. just… keep your mouth shut next time, alright?”

heeseung chuckled, feeling some of the tension ease between them. “yeah, yeah, I got it. i owe you for this one.”

jay’s lips twitched into a smirk, his irritation fading. “damn right you do.”

heeseung exhaled, relieved. they were good again—thank god. no matter how much of a mess he was, jay wasn’t the type to hold a grudge. not for long, anyway.

later that day, during class, heeseung couldn’t get his mind off the night before. his memories were patchy, but nagging fragments kept resurfacing—the scent of something soft and feminine, the way he’d felt when he woke up.  none of it added up. the more he tried to piece things together, the more his head spun.

sitting in the back of the lecture hall, he leaned over to jay, keeping his voice low. “hey, do you, uh… know if i was with anyone last night?” he tried to sound casual, but the shakiness in his voice gave him away.

jay raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “what, like, with a girl?”

heeseung shrugged awkwardly. “yeah, or like… did anyone leave with me? i can’t remember shit.”

jay snorted. “dude, after you started running your mouth about jennie, i stopped keeping track of whatever the hell you were doing.”

heeseung frowned, feeling even more confused. if it wasn’t jay, and no one saw me leave… who the hell got me home?

jay glanced at him again, picking up on the unease written all over heeseung’s face. “why, man? you get lucky or something?” he teased, a smirk tugging at his lips.

heeseung felt heat creep up his neck, shaking his head quickly. “no, no, it’s not like that. just… never mind,” he muttered, sinking back into his seat.

jay gave him a curious look but didn’t push it, turning his attention back to the lecture. but heeseung’s mind wasn’t on the professor—it was still stuck on the unanswered questions swirling in his head.  who brought me home? and… what else happened that I can’t remember?

he leaned back in his seat, frustration gnawing at him.  why the fuck does this scent keep haunting me?

by lunchtime, jay and heeseung sat at their usual spot in the cafeteria, but something felt off. heeseung dropped his tray beside jay’s and sat down, glancing at him. jay wasn’t his usual self—the cocky smirk was gone, replaced by a frown as he stared at his phone, scrolling through pictures of his crush. the same girl heeseung had messed things up with the night before.

“damn, man,” heeseung muttered, feeling the weight of guilt settle heavy in his chest. “you still upset?”

jay didn’t look up, his frown deepening as he swiped through the photos with more force than necessary. “what do you think?” he muttered, barely acknowledging heeseung’s presence.

heeseung sighed, poking at the food on his plate, knowing he’d screwed up bad. “look, i said i was sorry,” he offered, hoping it might ease the tension.

jay finally looked up, irritation clear on his face, though it wasn’t the kind of anger that led to a fight. “yeah, i know. but you don’t get it, man.”

heeseung nodded, knowing full well how deep jay’s frustration ran. he’d watched his friend build up the courage to approach his crush for months, and heeseung had been the one to ruin it all in one drunken moment. “i do get it,” he said quietly. “i’d be pissed too.”

jay sighed, tapping his fingers against the table in frustration, the weight of the whole situation pressing down on him. he wasn’t angry anymore, just… defeated. heeseung could see it in the way jay was starting to give up on his crush, all because of one dumb mistake.

“honestly, i don’t even know why i’m still thinking about it,” jay muttered, shaking his head. “she’s probably telling all her friends i’m some creep now. what’s the point?”

heeseung winced, guilt gnawing at him. “you don’t know that, man. maybe if you explain, she’ll listen.”

jay let out a small scoff, though it didn’t have the usual bite behind it. “i bet she’s already told hanna i’m a complete joke.”

the silence between them stretched uncomfortably. heeseung didn’t know how to fix this, didn’t know what to say to make things right. jay sighed again, finally setting his phone down on the table, poking at his food without much interest. the sharp tension had dulled, but it was still there, hanging between them like a shadow.

“look,” heeseung said, his voice softer, “if there’s anything i can do to make it right, just tell me. i know i screwed up, but maybe if you talk to her—”

jay shook his head, cutting him off. “nah, dude. you know me.” he paused, his jaw tight, clearly holding back more than he was saying.

heeseung leaned back against the bench, feeling the weight of jay’s frustration sinking deeper. it wasn’t just about the girl—jay felt exposed, vulnerable, and that’s what hurt the most.

“sorry, man,” heeseung muttered, his voice thick with regret. “i didn’t realize how much it meant to you.”

jay dragged a hand through his hair, sighing again. “it’s whatever now. i’m done trying. you’re my friend, heeseung, but this whole thing just makes me feel like a complete idiot.”

heeseung’s chest tightened at jay’s words. “you’re not an idiot.”

jay shrugged, pushing his food around the plate like it didn’t matter. “i don’t know, man. now i have to live with the fact that she’s probably never gonna talk to me again. it just sucks.”

he looked over at heeseung, his expression softening a little, the frustration giving way to exhaustion. “i’m not holding it against you, heeseung. we’re good. i’m just… over it.”

heeseung felt a small weight lift off his shoulders, but he still nodded, feeling like he owed jay more than just an apology. “i get it. if you ever wanna hang out, no games or anything, just let me know.”

jay gave him a tired smile. “yeah, thanks, man.”

they sat there for a moment, the silence more comfortable now, settling into that familiar rhythm between them. heeseung was just about to take a sip of his drink when the cafeteria doors swung open, and professor kang strode in, making a direct beeline toward their table.

heeseung glanced at jay, both of them confused as to why their professor was heading straight for them.

heeseung didn’t need to see professor kang’s face to know he was screwed. the sharp, predatory gaze the professor wore as he strode toward their table sent a chill down his spine. heeseung and jay exchanged a look—shit, what now?—but neither dared to move.

“lee heeseung,” professor kang’s voice boomed across the cafeteria, slicing through the chatter. heads turned, eyes locking onto him as the weight of curiosity and judgment settled over the room. beside him, jay stifled a laugh, leaning over with a smirk. “good luck, man,” he whispered, like heeseung was about to face a firing squad.

kang’s stride was too confident, too smug for heeseung’s liking, and his expression all but screamed that this wasn’t going to end well.

“oh no,” heeseung muttered under his breath, dread creeping in.

professor kang stopped in front of their table, crossing his arms, his glare cutting through heeseung like a knife. “heeseung, your grades…” he trailed off, raising a brow. “let’s just say they’ve been less than satisfactory.”

heeseung swallowed hard, resisting the urge to fidget under the professor’s piercing gaze. “i… uh… i’ve been working on it,” he stammered, knowing damn well he hadn’t even opened a textbook.

kang chuckled humorlessly. “working on it? from what i’ve seen, you’ve been avoiding it like the plague. and you know what that means.” his eyes flicked to jay, who had stopped laughing and was now watching intently, clearly enjoying heeseung’s impending doom.

heeseung’s stomach dropped. this is bad.

“starting tomorrow,” kang continued, his voice dripping with satisfaction, “you’re going to have a tutor.”

heeseung blinked, thrown off. “a tutor?”

kang nodded, his smirk deepening. “yes, a tutor. and not just any tutor—one of my best students.”

jay couldn’t hold back his laughter this time, snorting and covering his mouth. “good luck with that, man.”

heeseung felt like the universe was playing some kind of sick joke on him.  a tutor? really?  he could barely hold a normal conversation without stumbling over his words, and now he was supposed to sit through tutoring sessions with some overachiever? fantastic.

“wait—uh, professor…” heeseung stammered, trying to think of an excuse. “i think i can handle this on my own. really, i don’t need—"

kang wasn’t having it. “it’s not up for debate, heeseung. i’ve already spoken to your parents. they’re expecting results.” his gaze shifted back to jay with a smirk. “if you think you can dodge this like you and jay do with your other responsibilities, think again.”

heeseung’s heart sank. he told my parents? fuck, now he was really screwed.

as if things couldn’t get worse, kang reached into his pocket and pulled out a list. heeseung’s stomach churned.

“let’s review the subjects you’re failing, shall we?” kang’s voice rang out, drawing even more attention. heeseung’s face flushed as heads turned, the whispers starting to spread like wildfire.

“math, history, science… and english,” kang listed, each word hitting like a punch to the gut.

jay was losing it beside him, laughing uncontrollably. “dude, that’s like… everything.”

kang wasn’t finished. “and let’s not forget economics. thirty-two percent on your last quiz. truly impressive.”

the cafeteria buzzed with whispers, and heeseung could feel every pair of eyes on him now, judging, mocking. he wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear.

“look, professor,” heeseung started, his voice edging into panic. “i know my grades are bad, but i don’t need—”

kang raised a hand, silencing him. “you’ll be working with y/n. starting tomorrow.”

heeseung blinked, confused. “who… who even is y/n?”

jay leaned in, grinning from ear to ear. “only the top student in every class, dude. you’re so fucked.”

kang nodded, clearly enjoying himself. “y/n is the best. if anyone can get you back on track, it’s her.”

heeseung’s heart raced, and in a desperate plea, the words spilled out of his mouth before he could stop them. “wait, professor, can’t you pick someone else? anyone else? please?”

kang raised a brow, his amusement barely hidden. “why? do you have an issue with y/n?”

heeseung rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the heat rise to his face.  the thought of being tutored by someone so smart, someone who would probably think he was a complete idiot, made his skin crawl. and the fact that it’s a girl? great, just great. “it’s just… i don’t even know her. maybe a guy would be better?”

jay burst into laughter, clutching his stomach. “oh man, this is priceless. you’re doomed.”

kang wasn’t budging. “there’s no one better than y/n. i’ve already made arrangements, and she’s agreed. besides, your parents are fully on board.”

heeseung’s face fell. there’s no getting out of this. “professor, please. i’m begging you.”

kang’s eyes narrowed, his tone final. “this isn’t up for discussion. y/n will be tutoring you at your house, every day after school. and if you even think about bailing, your parents will be notified, and the consequences will be much worse than just bad grades.”

the cafeteria had gone dead quiet, more students now eavesdropping on the conversation. jay, meanwhile, was practically shaking with laughter, enjoying every second.

“fuck,” heeseung muttered, slumping in his seat, defeated. “i’m done for.” kang gave him one last satisfied look before walking away, leaving heeseung to wallow in misery. jay slapped him on the back, still grinning like an idiot. “bro, this is gonna be hilarious. y/n tutoring you, at your house? i’m showing up just to watch you crash and burn.”

heeseung groaned, burying his face in his hands. “this is a fucking nightmare. i’m gonna make a complete fool of myself.”

jay leaned in, his grin widening. “oh, trust me. i wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

heeseung stared blankly ahead, his mind trying to process what had just happened. tutoring, with y/n, at my house, every day. there was no escape.

“i am so fucked.”

heeseung slammed the stall door shut, leaning his back against it, trying to catch his breath. how the hell am i supposed to survive this? tutoring with some girl he didn’t even know? he rubbed his face, feeling the tension building behind his temples. he can barely talk to girls without turning into a stuttering idiot, and now he has to deal with this?

just skip it, heeseung, a voice in his head whispered. who’s gonna care if you bail?

but he knew he couldn’t. professor kang and his parents had him on lockdown—there was no running from this now. fuck.

he checked his phone, tapping his foot impatiently. jay was supposed to meet him after class, their usual spot in the restrooms to decompress and talk shit, but jay was nowhere to be found.

“where the hell is he?” heeseung grumbled, dialing jay’s number.

the phone barely rang twice before jay picked up, his voice low and irritated. “yeah?”

“dude, what the hell? you ditched class without telling me? we could’ve bailed together,” heeseung snapped, his frustration boiling over.

jay sighed heavily on the other end. “i didn’t wanna hang out. just need space.”

“yeah, well, next time, fucking tell me,” heeseung barked, the edge of anger creeping into his voice. “you’re being weird as shit lately.”

there was a tense silence. jay’s irritation bled through the phone. “i’m fine,” he snapped back. “i just need space.”

before heeseung could say anything else, jay hung up, leaving him standing there, staring at his phone like an idiot. great. fucking great.

he stuffed his phone back into his pocket, frustration bubbling inside him. “fuck,” he muttered, running his hands through his messy hair.  jay bailing is the last thing he needed.

he stepped in front of the mirror, staring at his reflection. he looked like hell—dark bags under his eyes, his hair a wreck, and he felt like the world was crashing down around him. i can’t deal with this shit right now.

heeseung grunted, pulling out his phone again to type a text to jay: call me when you’re done being a moody bitch.

just as he was about to hit send, someone crashed into him, hard. his phone slipped from his hand, clattering to the floor as he stumbled back.

“shit,” he cursed, quickly bending down to scoop up his phone. he looked up, ready to give whoever it was a piece of his mind, when his gaze landed on you.

you stood there, wide-eyed and disoriented, about to apologize when your stomach dropped. oh fuck. it’s him.

lee heeseung—the guy you’d been secretly crushing on for months. the same guy you’d kind of hooked up with. and now, the guy you were supposed to tutor. what are the fucking odds?

your mind raced, panic rising in your chest. of all the people to run into, why did it have to be him?

“uh… s-sorry,” heeseung stammered, his eyes flicking toward yours before quickly darting away, clearly flustered. “i didn’t see you.”

your heart pounded in your chest, your mind spiraling. just moments ago, you had found out you were assigned to tutor him.  heeseung. the same guy who had begged for you, desperate and needy, finishing way too fast. yet, somehow, it was one of the most intense moments you’d had.

and now, he didn’t even remember.

“uh, it’s fine,” you mumbled, trying to keep your voice steady despite the tension tightening your stomach. get it together. he doesn’t remember. just act normal.

you forced a smile, your mind buzzing with the memory of how his body had felt against yours, the heat between you, the way he’d gripped you like he couldn’t get enough. stop thinking about it.

as you opened your mouth to say something—anything—his scent hit you. that familiar scent. your heart skipped a beat, and you felt your cheeks burn. shit, not now.

heeseung’s brow furrowed as something flickered in his eyes, like he was trying to place a memory. the scent tugged at his mind, but he couldn’t quite figure it out.

“i—i’m y/n,” you stammered, your nerves tightening your throat. “i’m, uh, your tutor.”

heeseung blinked, the words sinking in. y/n? the girl professor kang mentioned? the best student in every class. fuck.

“oh, uh, y/n,” he mumbled, feeling dumb as hell. “right. i’m heeseung.”

as if i didn’t already know that. you let out a small breath of relief, grateful that he wasn’t connecting the dots. thank god.

“nice to meet you,” you managed to say, even though your heart was racing like a runaway train.

heeseung nodded awkwardly, his thoughts spinning. the scent still tugged at something in the back of his mind, but he pushed it aside. no way.  you seemed too… well, smart and collected. and cute. he felt his face flush as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

“uh, yeah, nice to meet you too,” he muttered, his brain still whirling, trying to figure out why you seemed so familiar. but for now, he let it go.

the awkwardness between you was thick, both of you standing there like you were stuck in some weird limbo.

“so, i guess i’ll see you tomorrow for tutoring?” you asked, desperate to escape the tension.

heeseung scratched the back of his head, feeling just as awkward. “yeah, sounds good.” i sound like a fucking robot. he glanced down at his shoes, mentally kicking himself for how weird this was.

“okay, cool,” you mumbled, your voice cracking slightly. why am i like this?

heeseung nodded again, gripping his phone so tight it was a miracle it didn’t break. “looking forward to it,” he said, immediately regretting how stiff and formal it sounded. who the hell says that?

you swallowed the embarrassment, shifting from foot to foot, trying to appear casual when everything inside you screamed awkward. “so, um… what subject do you wanna start with tomorrow?”

heeseung paused, like he was mentally sifting through his options, before blurting out, “uh… history? i suck at that.” he let out a nervous laugh that sounded more like a wheeze than anything else.

you forced a small smile, unsure if you were supposed to laugh too or just nod. “history it is.”

the silence that followed felt like it lasted an eternity. neither of you knew how to end the conversation without making things worse, both awkwardly standing there, too self-conscious to make a move.

“i… should go,” you finally said, pointing toward the bathroom door like it was the most obvious thing in the world. you winced immediately, what the hell was that?

“right!” heeseung blurted, his response way too eager. “you probably have to pee. bathroom. makes sense.”

you cringed, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “yeah, i’m about to burst,” you muttered, the words spilling out before you could stop them. oh god.  without waiting for him to respond, you darted into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you as fast as possible.

heeseung stood there, dumbfounded, replaying the conversation in his head. what the fuck did i just say? he muttered, dragging a hand through his messy hair in frustration.

inside the bathroom, you leaned against the wall, pressing your palms to your face, trying to calm your racing heart. i’m about to burst? seriously? the embarrassment washed over you in waves as you replayed the entire cringeworthy conversation in your head.

tutoring tomorrow, you reminded yourself, taking a deep breath. just get through that, and everything will be fine. he doesn’t remember… right?

heeseung muttered curses under his breath as he shoved his things haphazardly into his bag. there was no way he was staying at school, letting the anxiety about tutoring with you eat at him all day. he’d rather face it head-on, get it over with, and maybe not lose his mind in the process.

as he slipped out of the bathroom, his heart pounded, the hallways feeling too small, too crowded. his mind replayed every awkward moment from earlier—the way he’d stumbled through his apology when you ran into each other, the way he fumbled over his words.  and now i have to spend hours with her? at my house? every day?

and my room’s a fucking disaster. panic crept into his chest. shit, i gotta clean up. his pace quickened as he made a beeline for the exit. and the porn stash. fuck, gotta hide that.

he practically sprinted the whole way home, bursting through the front door with a sigh of relief when he realized his parents weren’t home yet. thank god. he had some time to fix the chaos that was his bedroom before you saw it.

he stood in his doorway, staring at the disaster that was his room. clothes were scattered everywhere, empty food containers littered his desk, and his bed looked like a tornado had swept through. fuck, i’m a slob.

without wasting any time, he threw himself into cleanup mode, tossing clothes into his closet, kicking dirty socks under his bed, and frantically shoving cans and wrappers into the trash. out of sight, out of mind.  he glanced around for anything incriminating and yanked open his bedside drawer. the stash of magazines sat there, mocking him. with a frustrated grunt, he stuffed them into the back of his closet behind a pile of sneakers, hoping you’d never find them.

just as he was tossing the last of the junk into his closet, he heard the front door creak open. shit, they’re home.

“heeseung?” his mom’s voice echoed up the stairs. “you home already?”

he froze, feeling like he’d been caught doing something illegal. “uh, yeah! just… studying!” he yelled back, cringing at how fake that sounded.

footsteps approached, and soon enough, his mom was standing in his doorway, raising an eyebrow at the semi-clean room. “wow, you cleaned your room. impressive,” she said, crossing her arms with a smile. “so… professor kang called. you’re getting a tutor?”

heeseung groaned, flopping onto his bed. “yeah, i know.”

his mom walked over, ruffling his hair affectionately. “it’s not a bad thing, heeseung. you could use the help. maybe it’ll give you some confidence.”

confidence?  heeseung could barely talk to people without feeling like he was choking on his own words, and now he had to sit through hours of tutoring with you, someone who was smart, pretty, and totally out of his league. disaster waiting to happen.

“mom, it’s just awkward. i don’t know her. what if it’s weird?” he said, trying to explain without giving away how much this was freaking him out.

“it’s okay to be a little awkward. just try,” she teased, shaking her head. “who knows? maybe you’ll make a friend.”

he cringed at the thought. “mom, please.”

she laughed, giving him one last ruffle of his hair before walking out. “just give it a shot.”

“and no skipping the tutoring sessions, heeseung!” his dad shouted from downstairs. “professor kang said she’s one of his best students!”

he rolled his eyes, groaning. of course, dad’s on board.

as soon as his mom left, heeseung flopped back onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling. the reality hit him again—you were going to be in his house. in his room. tomorrow.

and then, there was that scent. it clung to his memory like a whisper he couldn’t shake. every time he thought about you, that faint vanilla scent flooded his mind.  why the hell is this scent fucking me up so bad? he shifted uncomfortably, feeling the tension in his chest grow and… lower. fucking great.

he sat up, running his hands through his hair in frustration. get it together, man. but no matter how hard he tried to push it aside, your scent lingered, making him restless… and hard.

he grabbed one of the magazines from his stash, flipping through it to try and clear his head, but it wasn’t working. his thoughts weren’t on the glossy pages. they were on you. the way you looked at him earlier, the way your voice sounded when you said his name, that damn scent that wouldn’t leave his mind.

he tossed the magazine aside with a frustrated groan. this is fucking stupid.

the tightness in his jeans wasn’t going away, and no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, his mind kept drifting back to you. she’s smart, pretty… and she’s going to be sitting in this room tomorrow, tutoring me.

and then it hit him, full force. i have a crush. a stupid, overwhelming, all-consuming crush on my tutor.

“fuck,” he muttered, rubbing his face.  this is gonna be a disaster.

your fingers trembled around the straps of your backpack, grip so tight your knuckles had gone white. standing outside his house, all the memories came flooding back, overwhelming you. this house, this fucking house.

“goddamn it,” you muttered, biting hard on the inside of your cheek. how the hell were you supposed to pull this off? how were you supposed to walk into that house, sit there with him, and pretend nothing ever happened? like he didn’t get wasted and stick his piss-stained dick in you, thinking it was some messed-up dream?

your heart pounded, stomach twisting into knots tighter and tighter. every detail from that night replayed in your mind—his drunken giggles, the way his arm slung lazily around your shoulder when you walked him home, and then… that.

you stared at the door, pulse quickening the longer you stood there. just knock, you told yourself. just get it over with. but your feet were glued to the spot, hand hovering over the doorbell like a coward. you wiped your sweaty palms on your jeans, trying to force air into your lungs.

after what felt like forever, you finally knocked.

the door swung open almost instantly. it wasn’t heeseung though—it was his mom, smiling wide, completely oblivious to the storm of hell brewing inside you. “oh, you must be y/n! come on in, dear.”

you plastered on a smile, stepping inside even though everything inside you screamed turn around, walk away. the smell hit you immediately—familiar, something warm and comforting, but god, it twisted your stomach with nerves. your pulse hammered as the memories washed over you, the same house, the same scent. shit, this is real.

“heeseung! your tutor’s here!” his mom called out, her voice carrying through the house like everything was perfectly normal. she turned back to you, still beaming. “he’s been so nervous about this, you know? but we think this’ll be good for him. he really needs the help, poor thing.”

you nodded, forcing that fake smile to stay on your face, even though inside you were screaming. he’s nervous? what about me?

“heeseung, come down already!” his dad’s voice rang out from the living room, laced with amusement. “don��t keep her waiting, son.”

heeseung stumbled into view at the bottom of the stairs, looking just as flushed and panicked as you felt. his eyes met yours for a split second before darting away, awkward as hell. “uh… hey,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact.

you forced out a shaky, “hey.”

his parents exchanged amused glances, like they were in on some joke. “heeseung, sweetheart, relax,” his mom said, patting him on the shoulder. “y/n’s here to help, not interrogate you.”

heeseung let out a weak laugh that sounded on the verge of breaking. “yeah, i know, mom.”

from the living room, his dad chuckled. “you’re acting like it’s the first time you’ve ever had a girl over. lighten up.”

your face burned with heat, the irony punching you right in the gut. if only they fucking knew.

heeseung’s face turned beet red, and he looked like he wanted to crawl under a rock. “dad, please,” he muttered, practically begging for the conversation to stop. you shifted uncomfortably, wishing for the same.

his mom, still smiling, turned back to you. “he’s been talking about this all day, you know? but you’re such a sweet girl, i’m sure you’ll make this easy for him.”

heeseung visibly cringed at her words, his gaze glued to the floor. “mom…”

“what? it’s true!” she laughed, giving him another pat before finally leaving. “we’ll leave you two to it. make yourselves comfortable, okay?”

you nodded stiffly, heart racing like it was ready to burst out of your chest. this is a fucking nightmare.

heeseung barely lifted his head as his mom disappeared down the hall, leaving the two of you suffocating in silence. neither of you moved. the tension was thick, almost unbearable. after what felt like an eternity, heeseung finally cleared his throat, still not meeting your eyes. “uh… we can, uh, go to my room. for the tutoring.”

“yeah. sure,” you mumbled, trying to sound normal while your heart pounded against your ribcage.

he led the way upstairs, every step another painful reminder of that night. heeseung’s shoulders were stiff, his back rigid—he looked just as fucked up over this as you did, but that didn’t make it any easier.

his room hit you like a slap in the face. this fucking room. heeseung motioned to the desk without looking at you. “you can, uh, sit there. i’ll just… grab my stuff.” his hands fumbled through his bag, shaking like this was the hardest thing he’d ever done.

you slid into the chair, trying to steady your hands as you opened your own bag. “maybe we should start with history?” you said, your voice coming out shaky.

heeseung froze for a moment, then nodded, his fingers trembling as he grabbed his books. “yeah. history. sure.”

he pulled out a textbook, but it slipped from his hands and hit the desk with a loud thud. “sorry,” he muttered, face turning red as he sat on the edge of the bed, trying to stay as far from you as possible.

“it’s fine,” you whispered, flipping through the textbook even though your hands were shaking like crazy. this is so much worse than you thought it’d be.

heeseung scratched the back of his neck, his knee bouncing with nervous energy. “so… history. what chapter?”

you pretended to focus, flipping through the book without really looking. “uh… chapter seven? ancient civilizations.”

“right,” he nodded, but you could tell he didn’t give a shit about ancient civilizations. his eyes kept flicking to you and then back to the book, like he couldn’t decide if he should look at you or not.

jesus christ. every glance at him brought back flashes of that night—the slurred voice, his hands on you, the heat of his breath against your neck. and now, here you were, pretending like none of it ever happened.

“uh… any questions on the chapter?” you asked, your voice cracking despite your best effort to sound normal.

heeseung shifted uncomfortably, his knee bouncing faster. “not really. i mean… i just don’t get why any of this shit matters, you know?” he let out a nervous laugh, scratching at his neck again. “like, why do we need to know about a bunch of dead guys?”

you forced a laugh, but it came out awkward and stilted. “yeah, i guess that’s one way to see it.”

and just like that, the suffocating silence returned, hanging over the room like a weight neither of you could shake.

“thanks for, you know, doing this,” heeseung mumbled, breaking the thick, uncomfortable silence. his voice was low, barely above a whisper, like he was trying not to make things even more awkward than they already were. “i know it’s probably boring as hell.”

you shook your head quickly, almost too quickly. desperate to respond, to fill the heavy tension weighing down on the both of you. “no, it’s fine. really.” your voice came out too eager, almost like you were trying to convince yourself as much as him.

your nails dug into the wood of the desk as you clenched your hands. the awkwardness was suffocating, thick in the air, making it hard to even breathe. every second you spent sitting there was another reminder of the memories you were trying so hard to bury. this was shaping up to be the longest fucking day of your life.

but then, something unexpected happened.

at first, heeseung was stumbling over every single word, barely managing to string together a coherent sentence. his nervous energy practically spilled out of him, the tension in the room reaching a breaking point. but as you started actually going over the material, you noticed something that surprised you. beneath all that nervousness, he wasn’t completely clueless. in fact, there was something sharp underneath all that anxiety.  he’s not stupid, you realized, a bit caught off guard. he just hasn’t been taught right.

as you started asking him about key points from the chapter, he struggled—obviously. he could barely meet your eyes without his face turning bright red. but little by little, he found his footing. his responses became clearer, more confident, though his voice still wavered slightly. the blushing didn’t go away, but with each right answer, you saw a flicker of pride in his eyes that he tried—and failed—to hide behind his nervous façade.

the air between you started to ease, just a little, like the worst of the awkwardness was finally fading. but your muscles were still tight, your whole body feeling the strain of holding yourself together in the same room as him. fuck, I need a break.

stretching your arms over your head, you stood up. “hey, um, i’m just gonna go to the bathroom real quick,” you said, your voice casual, but the truth was you needed to step away before the tension swallowed you whole.

as soon as you stood, heeseung froze, his eyes going wide like you had just found some dark, terrible secret. his mind spiraled into overdrive. shit, did i leave something out? his heart raced, his eyes scanning the room frantically. fuck, i hope she doesn’t see anything.

he scanned the room, panicking, making sure everything was hidden. is there something i forgot to stash away? goddammit, no, it’s fine, everything’s hidden. he kept repeating it to himself like a mantra as he watched you head toward the door, praying to whatever god might be listening that you wouldn’t find anything embarrassing.

it’s fine. everything’s hidden. she won’t see shit.

but then, as you walked past him, it hit him again—that scent. the one that had been messing with his head since the moment you stepped into the house. heeseung’s breath caught in his throat, and his entire body reacted, a tension tightening low in his stomach. why the hell does she smell so good? the question ricocheted through his mind as a rush of heat surged through his chest, making his skin prickle.

he didn’t understand why, but your scent was driving him crazy, pulling at something deep inside him he didn’t want to acknowledge. it was all he could focus on, filling his head, clouding his thoughts.

completely unaware of the turmoil happening just a few feet away, you walked past him like nothing was wrong, heading to the bathroom. meanwhile, heeseung sat there, gripping the edge of the bed like it was the only thing keeping him from losing his mind.

as soon as the bathroom door shut behind you, heeseung let out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair in frustration. fuck. his thoughts were a mess, his body betraying him in ways he couldn’t control. he leaned back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. this is gonna be so much harder than I thought.

when you came back into the room, heeseung was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking like he’d seen a ghost. his hands fidgeted nervously with the pillow he had awkwardly placed over his lap, and you quickly realized what he was hiding—he wasn’t exactly subtle about it.

“ready to pick up where we left off?” you asked, trying to pretend you didn’t notice. but it was obvious. he was flushed, his eyes darting away, and when he nodded, his voice cracked.

“y-yeah, sure. let’s get back to it.”

he was acting weird as hell, but you didn’t push it. you sat back down, flipping open the textbook, trying to focus. but every time you glanced at him, you saw how he squirmed, his knuckles white as he gripped the pillow over his lap. what the hell is going on with him? you wondered, but tried to brush it off.

“so, we were talking about the fall of the roman empire…” you leaned in slightly, pointing to a page, your shoulder brushing against his arm. it was just a casual touch—nothing to make a big deal about—but his reaction was immediate and intense. he stiffened, going rigid like he’d been electrocuted, his hands clutching the pillow even tighter.

“uh—I’ll be right back,” heeseung muttered, standing up so fast he nearly knocked the pillow off his lap, almost exposing exactly what he didn’t want you to see. he fumbled, yanking the pillow back into place, his face burning bright red.

you blinked, utterly confused as you watched him practically run out of the room. “okay… yeah, sure.”

heeseung slammed the bathroom door shut behind him, leaning against it like it was his last line of defense. fuck, fuck, fuck. his entire body was on fire, his mind spinning out of control. this can’t be happening. the scent of you, the way your shoulder brushed against him—it was all too much. now, he was hard as a rock, panicking like a fucking teenager.

he turned on the faucet, splashing cold water on his face, his hands shaking. “get it together, man,” he muttered to his reflection, staring at the mirror as if it could fix everything. but no matter how hard he tried, the memory of your touch, your scent, clung to him, making his pulse race and his skin feel too tight. i’m so screwed.

back in the room, you sat there, still trying to wrap your head around what just happened. he’s acting so weird. maybe he was just anxious, maybe he needed a minute to calm himself down. but the way he bolted out? way too dramatic. something was definitely off.

and then you heard it.

at first, it was faint—so quiet you almost convinced yourself you’d imagined it. but then it came again, clearer this time: a low, breathless moan.

your eyes widened, your heart stuttering in your chest. oh my fucking god. no. there’s no way. you froze, straining to hear, but now there was no mistaking it—the soft, needy sounds coming from behind the bathroom door. he’s jerking off.

because of you.

a rush of heat shot through your body, every nerve on fire as you sat there, paralyzed by the realization. what the hell am I supposed to do? your heart hammered in your chest, torn between shock and… something else. something hotter, more dangerous, pooling low in your stomach as his muffled groans filled the room.

you pressed your thighs together, trying to ignore the way your body was reacting, your breathing shaky as you listened. it was insane, this whole situation was insane, but there was no denying the effect it was having on you. you were turned on, and that knowledge sent a thrill through you that you couldn’t quite suppress.

when heeseung finally returned, he looked way too refreshed, like he’d just hit the reset button on his whole system. his face was still flushed, but there was a smug, almost guilty glint in his eyes. he thought he’d gotten away with it.

he smiled awkwardly at you, rubbing the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact. “uh, sorry about that,” he mumbled. “don’t worry… i washed my hands.”

you laughed—an actual, real laugh that slipped out before you could stop it. something about the way he said it, like a dumbass joke he thought would break the ice, hit differently. it reminded you of the night, a jolt of familiarity running through you, an inside joke only the two of you would get.

“we’ve already been through so much material today. i think i’ll survive without you washing your hands.”

the second the words left your mouth, you saw it—the flicker of recognition in his eyes, the way his face shifted, like something deep in his brain snapped into place. fuck. his body went stiff, the color draining from his face before flushing a deep, panicked red.

heeseung’s wide, frantic eyes locked onto yours, his voice cracking when he spoke. “what?”

your heart dropped, hands going clammy as the weight of it all crashed down on you. shit. you could see it in his face, the way realization slowly crept in, the horror dawning on him. he remembers.

“what?” you echoed, panic rising in your chest. but then you saw it—the way his expression crumbled, the memories hitting him like a freight train, dragging both of you back to that night.

“fuck,” heeseung muttered, stepping back, his eyes darting between you and the floor like he was trying to escape a nightmare. “that was you?” he whispered, his voice breaking under the weight of the question.

the second he said it, your stomach dropped. this can’t be real. you stood there, frozen, heart pounding, every beat louder in your ears. heeseung’s eyes were wild, panicked, and when your expression confirmed the truth he dreaded, he stumbled back like he’d just been hit.

“that wasn’t a dream?” he practically shouted, his voice cracking, the panic raw and undeniable.

you didn’t have words. what the fuck could you even say? you stared at him, mouth open, trying to catch your breath as the weight of everything settled over you both like a goddamn storm.

heeseung’s hands flew to his head, fingers gripping his hair as he muttered to himself, “holy fuck, holy fuck,” over and over again. his eyes were wide with disbelief. “i thought… i thought i fucking dreamt that.”

you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. your throat felt like it was closing up, memories of that night replaying in sharp, excruciating detail. you watched as heeseung flinched, stepping further back from you like you’d just set him on fire. guilt, panic, and something else flickered across his face, thickening the air between you.

he stared at you, voice trembling. “you knew?”

his question felt like a punch to the gut. you swallowed hard, your chest tightening as you tried to find something to say. but everything felt stuck. “i… i didn’t…” you stammered, feeling your face burn as the walls closed in on you. “i didn’t think you’d remember.”

heeseung groaned, fingers pulling at his hair as he started pacing, his whole body a bundle of nerves. “holy shit, this is fucking unreal,” he muttered under his breath, voice barely holding together.

he stopped in his tracks, turning to face you with wide, panicked eyes. “so you knew the whole time?” his voice rose, cracking. “you knew and didn’t say anything?”

you blinked, your heart hammering against your ribs, hands trembling as you tried to explain. “i didn’t think you’d remember,” you whispered, voice small.

he let out a frustrated groan, collapsing onto the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands. “fuck.”

heeseung looked back up at you, his voice cracking under the weight of everything. “i’m so fucking sorry, but like…” he hesitated, panic clearly building again. “was this whole thing… planned?”

the question slapped you in the face. planned? your mind reeled for a second, trying to catch up. “planned?” you repeated, disbelief bubbling up. “heeseung, no! what the hell? of course not.”

he blinked, still wrecked with guilt, but now his expression wavered, uncertainty creeping in. “so… you weren’t pretending?” he asked, voice barely a whisper. “the tutoring—was that real?”

you sighed, rubbing your temple. oh my god. “professor kang literally told me this morning that you were failing. i didn’t even know until today.”

heeseung blinked at you, still processing, stuck in his daze. then heeseung narrowed his eyes, suspicion flickering across his face. “so you just act like it never happened?” he asked, voice tense. “why?”

the air thickened with tension, your throat tightening. do i really have to explain this?

“because…” you hesitated, looking away. “i didn’t think you’d want to remember it like i wanted to.”

heeseung’s eyes softened, scanning your face, the weight of your words sinking in. realization slowly dawned on him.

“wait,” he said, voice lower now, more serious. "you wanted to? i don't get it.”

your heart skipped a beat, body freezing in place. every muscle tensed up as your mind scrambled. fuck.

there was no turning back now.

you closed the textbook in your hands with a quiet thud, the sound cutting through the thick silence. your heart raced, palms sweaty as you tried to steady your breath.

heeseung’s eyes stayed locked on you, dark and intense, searching your face. the air between you crackled with something electric, something you couldn’t shake. you didn’t want to.

“did you?” he asked again, voice softer this time, almost like he was afraid of what your answer would be. “did you want that night to happen?”

you swallowed hard, the weight of his question settling into your bones. the room felt like it was closing in, every breath getting harder to take. you didn’t want to lie, didn’t want to pretend like it didn’t mean anything. but saying it out loud? confirming it? that was like stepping into something you couldn’t undo.

“i—” your voice cracked, and you looked down at the closed book in your lap, gripping it like it could somehow ground you. “yes,” you whispered, your throat tight. “i wanted it, but i never expected it to... go that far.”

heeseung froze, hyper-focused on you, the rest of the world fading into the background. his eyes, dark and intense, locked onto yours like he was seeing you for the first time. and before you knew it, he was moving closer.

his face was inches from yours, so close you could feel his warmth, his breath unsteady. but there was no awkwardness this time, none of that usual nervous energy. he didn’t even seem to realize how close he was, or how this should’ve freaked him out.

he just stared at you, unwavering, like he was trying to see inside your head, trying to understand every word you weren’t saying. his breath hitched, and you could feel the tension between you shift, deepening.

“cause i’ve always…” you started, your voice barely above a whisper.

heeseung’s breath faltered, his gaze flickering down to your lips before meeting your eyes again.

“seen you,” you finished, voice soft but steady, the confession hanging in the air.

he blinked, stunned, disbelief written all over his face. “seen me?” he echoed, like he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around what you’d just said.

you could see it in his face—the insecurity, the doubt. why me? that’s what he was thinking.

you leaned in slightly, meeting his eyes. “i know what you’re thinking, heeseung. you think you’re a loser, right? that’s what you see when you look in the mirror.”

he flinched, the words hitting him square in the chest, his mouth opening and closing like he wanted to argue, but couldn’t. the room felt heavier now, the silence deafening.

“but, god,” you breathed, your voice faltering for a second. “i was happy we had that moment, even if you didn’t remember me. i was just… content, heeseung.”

you paused, watching him closely, seeing the way your words settled into him. “you’d probably freak out if you woke up the next morning remembering what happened, so i let it go. i didn’t want it to be complicated.”

heeseung’s voice was barely a whisper, raw and hesitant. “you’re really making it seem like you like me, y/n.”

your heart pounded in your chest, every muscle in your body tight. you swallowed hard, biting your lip before finally speaking.

“seem like?” you said, your voice soft but certain. “heeseung… you think i’d have gone through all of this if i didn’t?”

his breath caught, his eyes wide with shock. it was like he hadn’t even considered the possibility.

“i don’t seem like i like you,” you added, your voice steady now. “i do like you.”

his breath hitched again, his eyes flickering with something intense, something raw. he looked at you, stunned, like he was finally seeing what had been in front of him the whole time.

“i always have,” you admitted, each word bringing a wave of relief. “and at that party… i just wanted to make a good impression. you were drinking by yourself, and—” you paused, a small smile creeping onto your lips, “adorably so.”

heeseung stared at you, his eyes wide, disbelief still lingering, but slowly giving way to something else. the weight between you both was shifting, the tension thickening, but in a different way now.

as the truth settled in, you felt lighter, like you’d been carrying a weight for so long and had finally let it go.

but heeseung didn’t react the way you thought he would. instead, he pulled his knees up to his chest, resting his chin on them, staring off to the side like he was anywhere but here with you. he was listening—fuck, you could tell—but he couldn’t look at you. not really. and that hurt more than anything. the silence between you was thick, almost unbearable, your chest tightening with every second that passed.

he was processing it all, you knew that much. but seeing him curled up like that, so small, so fucking vulnerable—it made something in you twist painfully.

“anyway… i’m sorry for not telling you,” you whispered, voice shaking under the weight of guilt that had been sitting on your chest for what felt like forever. “i just… i felt like i took advantage of you.”

he didn’t say shit for a moment, just let out this long, heavy sigh like he’d been holding everything in, and now it was all crashing down on him. his eyes, distant and glazed, started to focus again, and the expression on his face shifted—like all the pieces were finally clicking into place.

“no, y/n,” he muttered, voice low but steady. “i kept you here, didn’t i?”

you blinked, staring at him, trying to make sense of what he was saying, trying to figure out what was going through his mind. the words hung between you, heavy, like the truth of it was sinking into both of you at the same time.

“it’s all coming back now,” heeseung said, sounding a little stronger this time, more certain. “i remember… you were kind. you didn’t have to take me home, but you did. and… you made me feel safe, y/n. i didn’t want you to leave.”

his voice softened then, almost trembling. “i asked you to stay, right? because… you put up with me.”

his head dipped, eyes flickering toward you before quickly looking away again, like facing you was too much. “i even asked you to cuddle me,” he muttered, and you saw him wince, the embarrassment creeping up his neck, turning his ears pink. “god, that was so cringy.”

he rubbed a hand over his face, trying to hide from himself, like the memories were too much to handle. “and then… everything blurred. i couldn’t tell what was real or not.”

his gaze met yours for just a second before dropping again, his voice barely above a whisper. “and you smelled so fucking good,” he admitted, voice cracking. “and… i got horny. like, really fucking horny.”

he buried his face in his hands again, clearly mortified by his own words, his whole body tense, like he was bracing himself for something. his breathing was ragged, the weight of everything crashing down on him all at once.

“i…” he started, voice shaking. he peeked up at you, shame all over his face, red as hell, like he wished he could disappear right then and there. “i even… came inside you, didn’t i?” his voice cracked on the words, the confession spilling out like it was choking him.

heeseung’s eyes finally locked on yours, searching—fuck, maybe he was looking for forgiveness or something—but all you could see was how raw, how broken he was, like he was laying everything bare in front of you. his body was wound tight, waiting, terrified of what you were going to say. the air between you was suffocating, thick with everything that had been left unsaid.

“is… is that why you didn’t want me to find out?” his voice wavered, eyes wide, realization dawning on him all at once. “because… you might be pregnant?” the question hung there, thick and cold, like the air itself had stopped moving. his whole body tensed up, eyes locked on you, fear creeping into his expression. you could see him struggling to breathe, his hands twitching nervously in his lap.

“fuck,” he mumbled, barely loud enough to hear. “could you be pregnant?”

you couldn’t help it. you lost it. the laugh ripped out of you before you could stop it, loud and sudden, shattering the tension like a glass hitting the floor. you were laughing so hard your sides ached, gasping for breath in between fits, the absurdity of the moment too much.

heeseung just sat there, staring at you like you’d lost your mind. his eyes went wide, his face going from confused to embarrassed in seconds, the color rushing to his cheeks. he was frozen, completely clueless.

“what the hell—” he stammered, voice cracking. “what’s so fucking funny?”

you wiped a tear from your eye, still giggling. “oh my god, heeseung,” you gasped, trying to get your breath back. “no! i’m not pregnant. that’s not why i didn’t want you to find out.”

he blinked at you, completely thrown off, like he couldn’t process what you were saying. “wait… what?”

“dude, relax,” you snorted, trying to hold back more laughter. “i’m on the pill. and it’s only been, like, what, not even that long ago?”

heeseung’s face was now burning, his embarrassment practically radiating off him. “oh… uh, right,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, avoiding your eyes like the plague.

you watched him fidget, clearly still mortified. his fingers kept twitching, his face still bright red. “right… okay,” he mumbled, his voice quieter now, embarrassed as hell. “sorry, i just… fuck, i’m still processing all of this.”

the room fell into an awkward silence again, the laughter dying down. you studied his face, seeing that raw vulnerability creeping back in. softly, you asked, “you’re not mad at me?”

heeseung’s head snapped up, eyes wide with surprise. “mad? no! no, y/n, i’m not mad at you at all,” he said quickly, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe you’d even ask that. “i just… i don’t know, i was scared. i thought i fucked up or made you feel weird.”

his hand went back to rubbing his neck, that nervous habit of his you were so used to by now. “but no, i could never be mad at you. i just… i wish i remembered sooner.”

your voice softened, quieter now, the laughter completely gone. “and if you had remembered… what would you have done?”

heeseung looked at you, finally starting to relax a little. the tension between you shifted, turning into something more open, more real. it didn’t feel so heavy anymore, and for the first time, it felt like you were both being honest.

he let out a long sigh, his lips twitching into a small, awkward smile. “honestly? probably nothing. i wouldn’t have had the guts.”

you blinked, surprised. “nothing?”

he shrugged, his blush creeping back, but this time it felt… softer, like he was just a little shy. “yeah. i’d have overthought the shit out of it. by the time i figured it out, you’d have moved on, and i’d still be sitting there like an idiot.”

he chuckled, the sound nervous but genuine, scratching his neck again. “guess i’m not really that bold.”

you couldn’t help but smile, warmth creeping into your chest. “you never had to be bold, heeseung,” you said softly. “i like you because you’re you. awkward, cute… and you turn red like a fucking tomato.”

you poked his cheek playfully, and he batted your hand away, grumbling, “stop it, y/n.” but there was a smile on his lips, soft and shy. the tension between you had melted, replaced by something lighter, something that felt easy, like you were finally just… okay.

“actually…” heeseung started, glancing at the scattered study materials before turning back to you, his expression kind of nervous. “oh, sorry, i think i’m taking up too much of your time.”

you shook your head quickly, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. “no, heeseung, i don’t have a curfew. what were you gonna say?”

he shifted in his seat, eyes flickering to the floor as he tried to gather his thoughts. “it’s just… the morning after that night,” he began slowly, his voice a little quieter now. “i woke up, and i could still smell you. your scent was everywhere, but my memory… it was completely blacked out.”

he looked down, clearly embarrassed, like reliving the confusion made him uncomfortable. “i tried piecing it together, but nothing made sense. i thought maybe i dreamt it. but now… now that i remember, it feels like this weight’s been lifted, you know?”

you watched him, that familiar warmth spreading through your chest. he seemed like he was finally making sense of it all, and seeing him find some clarity in the mess of things made you smile. but before you could say anything, a knock on the door interrupted the moment.

heeseung’s mom came in, completely oblivious to the tension lingering in the room. she was all smiles, carrying a tray of snacks like everything was perfectly normal. and the second she walked in, heeseung shot up from his seat, looking so damn stiff and awkward, you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing at how ridiculous he looked.

“oh, no need to stand, sweetheart,” his mom chirped, setting the tray down with a proud grin. “brought you two some snacks. keep up that energy while you study!”

“uh, thanks, mom,” heeseung mumbled, his voice strained, like he was trying so hard not to die of embarrassment.

his mom winked at you, completely missing the vibe in the room. “don’t let him distract you too much, y/n,” she teased before walking back out, leaving the door cracked open.

heeseung sank back into his chair, his face bright red, still not able to look at you. he was so flustered, you could practically feel the secondhand embarrassment rolling off him.

you couldn’t help it—you grinned, leaning back a little, eyebrow raised. “you okay there, heeseung?” you teased, smirking at how frazzled he looked.

“yeah, totally fine,” he squeaked, voice way too high-pitched to sound convincing. “just… didn’t expect her to come in.”

“she’s sweet,” you said, reaching for one of the snacks on the tray. “it’s not a big deal.”

he let out a long breath, rubbing the back of his neck like it was a reflex. “yeah, she just… can be a little overprotective sometimes.” he finally glanced at you, but you could tell he still wanted to crawl under a rock and disappear.

you chuckled, taking a bite of the cookie. “i think it’s cute. besides, we got snacks out of it, so i’m not complaining.”

he smiled, and for the first time, it actually looked like he was relaxing a bit. there was this softness in his expression now, his guard dropping. “thanks… for not making it weird and for coming back here.”

you paused, surprised by the sincerity in his voice, but then smiled at him warmly. “heeseung, i wouldn’t have come back if i didn’t want to.”

the tension between you both seemed to melt away, the air feeling lighter now, like you could just exist together without all the heavy shit hanging over you. you popped another cookie into your mouth, enjoying the calm after all the earlier intensity.

“so, now that your mom’s gone,” you teased, leaning back in your chair, “you wanna pick up where we left off? or are you too traumatized to continue?”

heeseung shook his head, his smile lingering on his lips. “nah, i’m good now. besides, you’re supposed to be tutoring me. can’t bail on that.”

you laughed softly, trying to hide the grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. “oh, i would never. besides, you’re doing pretty well. maybe i’m not even needed anymore.”

heeseung glanced at you, his expression softening in a way that made your chest feel tight. “nah, i still need you.”

the way he said it—so simple, so honest—caught you completely off guard. your heart skipped a beat, but before you could even process it, he turned back to the snacks, picking one up like he hadn’t just said something that made your entire body feel warm.

for the next week, you found yourself going to heeseung’s house almost every day. each time you walked through that door, it was like a layer of awkwardness between you both peeled away. with every study session, heeseung started to relax, not just with the material but with you. his stuttering wasn’t as bad, and there was this growing confidence in the way he answered your questions. it made you feel proud, seeing him actually believe in himself more.

of course, he was still his awkward self sometimes—blushing like crazy whenever his mom brought in snacks or when you caught him staring for a second too long. there was an ease now, a rhythm, this natural back-and-forth that felt… good.

as the days went on, heeseung began to open up more, not just about school, but about everything else. he told you about his favorite music, the stupid shit his friends did, even embarrassing moments that made him groan but that he still shared with you anyway. it felt like you were getting to know him all over again, piece by piece, like he was finally letting you see the parts of him no one else got to.

you were both hunched over the desk, working through equations when the door suddenly burst open, slamming against the wall. you both jumped, startled, as jay barged in with his usual loud energy and a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

“yo, heeseung!” jay’s eyes flicked between the two of you, then settled on a teasing smirk. “oh, shit. am i interrupting something?”

heeseung shot up from his chair, his entire face turning bright red. “jay, what the hell, man?” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed.

jay completely ignored him, his grin only widening as he stepped further into the room like he owned the place. “so this is what you’ve been up to, huh? no wonder you’ve been ditching us all week.” his eyes shifted to you, mischief sparkling in them. “studying, huh? real convincing.”

you rolled your eyes, biting back a laugh at how flustered heeseung looked. “we’re literally going over formulas, jay,” you said, holding up your notebook as proof.

jay leaned casually against the doorframe, that playful smirk still on his lips. “yeah, yeah, formulas,” he teased, but there wasn’t any bite in his tone. “so… is that a no to valorant?”

heeseung looked like he was tempted, his posture shifting as he considered jay’s offer. you couldn’t help but chuckle softly—heeseung had been working his ass off. he deserved a break. “hey, it’s fine,” you said, closing your notebook and packing up your things. “you’ve earned it. we can pick this up another day.”

heeseung shot you a grateful smile, clearly relieved. “thanks, i’ll finish the assignments, i promise.” there was sincerity in his voice, and you knew he meant it, but before he could say anything else, jay cut in with his usual easy grin.

“thanks for not hogging him, y/n. i was starting to think he’d forgotten about me,” jay joked, nudging heeseung playfully.

you laughed, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “heeseung’s been doing great. you’d be surprised how much he knows, jay.”

heeseung’s cheeks flushed again, rubbing the back of his neck in that way he always did when he was embarrassed. “jay, come on…”

“what?” jay grinned, throwing an arm around heeseung’s shoulders. “i’m just saying, it’s good to see my buddy killing it. but seriously, y/n, thanks for helping him out.”

you smiled warmly at heeseung, feeling proud of how far he’d come. “see you tomorrow, heeseung. don’t forget to review what we went over, okay?”

heeseung nodded, his voice soft but filled with appreciation. “yeah, i will.” his gaze lingered on you for a second longer, a flicker of admiration in his eyes before jay gave him a light shove toward the door, both of them grinning as you waved goodbye.

as soon as the door clicked shut, jay turned to heeseung with a shit-eating grin, barely holding back laughter. “thanks, i’ll finish the assignments, i promise,” he mimicked in a high-pitched voice, dripping with sarcasm. “you’ve got it bad, man.”

heeseung groaned, running a hand through his hair, cheeks still flushed from embarrassment. “shut the hell up,” he muttered, though the small smile tugging at his lips betrayed him.

“nah, seriously though,” jay continued, nudging him with his elbow, his grin widening. “you’ve got heart eyes for her, bro. i’ve never seen you like this.”

heeseung buried his face in his hands, groaning louder. “i’m gonna kill you.”

jay, clearly enjoying himself way too much, flopped onto the bed with zero regard for heeseung’s sanity. “so, what’s the deal, man? y’all have been ‘studying’ for, like, days now. spill it.”

heeseung, looking completely mortified, muttered, “jay, get out.”

“nah, i’m good,” jay shot back, smirking. “come on, just ask her out already. what’s the worst that could happen?”

heeseung avoided his gaze, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. “it’s not that simple.”

jay groaned dramatically, throwing his head back. “bro, it is that simple. she likes you too. it’s so fucking obvious.”

heeseung’s face went a deeper shade of red. “you think?”

jay scoffed. “dude, she’s been coming over for a week straight. you really think it’s just for the tutoring?”

heeseung hesitated, then quietly muttered, “well… she did say she liked me.”

jay’s eyes went wide, and then he burst into laughter, clutching his stomach. “wait, what? she said she liked you? and you’ve just been sitting on that info like an idiot?”

heeseung cringed, feeling more and more like a complete idiot by the second. “yeah… and, uh… we hooked up,” he added, barely above a whisper.

jay’s laughter came to an abrupt stop. his jaw dropped. “what the fuck? you hooked up with her?”

heeseung nodded, wincing at the memory. “yeah…”

jay was practically vibrating with excitement, eyes wide. “oh my god, heeseung finally fucking did it! you didn’t dream it? it actually happened?”

heeseung groaned, rubbing his temples like he could erase the embarrassment. “it’s real, jay. it happened.”

jay collapsed back onto the bed, laughing hysterically. “holy shit. but—how did it go down?”

heeseung shifted awkwardly, his voice dropping to a mumble. “i, uh… came too soon.”

jay’s laughter died instantly, replaced by a choking noise. “what?” he stared at heeseung in disbelief. “you came early?”

heeseung winced, face burning with shame. “i was drunk, man… it just happened.”

jay shook his head, smacking his forehead dramatically. “dude, you had one shot, and that’s how it went down?”

heeseung groaned again, burying his face in his hands. “trust me, i know.”

jay just stared at him, shaking his head in disbelief before smacking heeseung’s arm. “so, what now? you’re just gonna sit here, do nothing, and keep pretending like she’s just your tutor?”

heeseung blinked, caught off guard. “uh… yeah?”

jay groaned louder, throwing his hands in the air. “you’re killing me, dude. she likes you, you like her, you’ve already hooked up, and you’re doing nothing?”

heeseung shrugged, clearly conflicted. “i don’t know, man. i’m not good at this shit. what if i mess it up?”

“you already messed it up,” jay teased, though his smile softened a little. “and she’s still coming over. what’s stopping you?”

heeseung bit his lip, hesitation clear in his expression. “but… what if she’s just being nice?”

jay rolled his eyes so hard you’d think they’d get stuck. “she’s not just being nice, dude. stop overthinking this.”

heeseung sighed, finally giving in. “fine, i’ll ask her. but if it gets weird, i’m blaming you.”

jay grinned wide, slapping his back. “trust me, she’s not going anywhere.”

but even with jay’s pep talks, heeseung still couldn’t bring himself to ask you out. every time he tried, the words got stuck in his throat, and he convinced himself that staying quiet was safer. he didn’t want to ruin whatever the hell you two had going on—whatever this was.

so he settled.

you were still coming over, still sitting beside him during these study sessions that had long turned into just excuses to hang out. you didn’t seem to mind, and truthfully, neither did he. there was a comfort in the way you both just were. heeseung stole a glance at you while you were focused on your notebook, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. every time he thought about asking you out, that fear crept back in. so for now, this would have to be enough.

“by the way,” your voice cut through the haze of heeseung’s thoughts, snapping him back to reality. he blinked, focusing on you as you kept going. “i won’t be able to come over tomorrow.” his stomach dropped instantly, but he tried to act casual, even though he could already feel himself missing you. “oh, really? why not?” he asked, his voice light, like it didn’t bother him at all. “my childhood friend, jake, is coming back, and i’m picking him up from the airport,” you explained, smiling easily. jake? childhood friend? the name hit him like a punch in the gut, and his mind started spinning. “oh… jake, huh?” he repeated, forcing the words out, trying to keep the unease out of his voice.

“yeah, we haven’t seen each other in years,” you said, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside him. “we’re just gonna catch up and hang out.” heeseung nodded, forcing a smile that felt way too tight. “sounds cool.” his mind, though, was screaming who the fuck is jake? the thought of you spending time with some other guy—a friend you clearly cared about—made his chest tighten. he didn’t want to feel jealous, but it crept in anyway. he cleared his throat, trying to play it cool, but the words came out too forced. “so, uh… jake?” you glanced at him, noticing the slight frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. you raised an eyebrow, your lips twitching into an amused smile. is he seriously jealous? “yeah, we’re pretty close,” you said, watching him carefully, finding his reaction kind of adorable. “he’s like a brother to me. we grew up together.”

heeseung nodded again, but his expression stayed stiff, that faint frown deepening. “right. like a brother.” it sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than you.

you bit your lip, holding back a laugh. the way he was squirming was too cute. “heeseung… are you jealous?” you teased, your voice playful as you watched him struggle to keep his cool. his eyes widened, and he straightened up in his seat, clearly caught off guard. “what? no, i’m not jealous!” he blurted out, his voice way too high-pitched to sound convincing. “why would i be jealous? it’s just… jake.” you couldn’t help but laugh at how flustered he was getting. it only made you like him more. he actually cared. “i think you two would get along,” you said, enjoying his discomfort just a little too much. “he loves gaming, like you and jay. i’m sure you guys would hit it off.” heeseung blinked, trying to process what you just said, but the mention of jake still had him thrown. “fit in with us?” he repeated, his voice hesitant. “he’s a gamer too?”

“yeah, he’s obsessed with valorant,” you grinned. “you guys would probably end up playing for hours if you met.”

heeseung shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the jealousy still eating at him. “sounds… cool, i guess,” he mumbled, trying not to let his frown take over. “so… he’s just a friend, right?” you laughed, shaking your head at how obvious he was being. “yeah, just a friend, heeseung.” he hesitated for a second, his voice dropping to a whisper, barely loud enough for you to hear. “have you kissed him?” your eyes widened at the sudden question, but you quickly recovered, fake gagging in response. “no way! it’s not like that,” you said, laughing. “he’s like family.” heeseung’s entire body relaxed, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. “oh… okay, good,” he mumbled, his tone sheepish but relieved. you grinned at him, leaning in a little closer, enjoying how easily he got flustered. “were you really that worried?” heeseung’s blush deepened as he rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at you. “i don’t know,” he muttered, his eyes flicking nervously to your lips. “just… had to be sure.” “why?” you pushed, raising an eyebrow as you leaned in just a little more, watching him squirm. “does it make you feel better that i kissed you and not jake?”

heeseung froze, his entire face turning a deep shade of red. his eyes widened in panic, like he was scrambling for something to say but had nothing. “i—I mean, yeah, maybe a little?” he stammered, clearly flustered and caught off guard. you smiled wider, seeing how easily he unraveled around you. “so it matters?” you teased, not letting up. he bit his lip, looking like he wanted to crawl under a rock. “well… yeah,” he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “it matters because… i like you.” the confession hit you like a truck, and you quickly lifted your notebook to shield your face, trying to hide the way your cheeks burned. heeseung just said he liked you, and your heart felt like it was about to burst. “oh right… i never actually told you,” heeseung mumbled, suddenly realizing the weight of his words. just as you lowered your notebook to respond, the door slammed open, and the moment was shattered. “dad, seriously?” heeseung groaned, rubbing his temples as his dad burst into the room, completely oblivious to the situation. “let’s celebrate!” his dad shouted, grinning like it was the best idea ever, with his mom trailing right behind him, bottles and glasses in hand like they were about to throw a full-blown party. you and heeseung both stared at them, caught off guard. “what?” “just saw your grades, kid! you passed everything! we’re celebrating!” his dad announced, shaking the bottles with excitement. “y/n, you’re joining us too!” his mom added, extending a glass toward you. you exchanged a quick look with heeseung, both of you in shock, trying to process what was happening. heeseung let out a defeated sigh, clearly resigned to his fate. “yeah, sure… why not.” you couldn’t help but giggle, nudging him playfully. “guess we’re celebrating, then.” his dad raised a bottle triumphantly. “i called your mom, y/n,” he said, flashing a proud grin. “she said you could stay the night!”

both you and heeseung instantly turned bright red, whipping your heads toward each other in disbelief. “what?” you said in unison. “yup!” his mom chimed in, completely unfazed. “figured it’d be fun. besides, you two have been spending so much time together, it just made sense.” heeseung groaned, sinking further into his chair, clearly mortified. “dad, you can’t just… do that.” your cheeks flushed even more, completely thrown by how casually they planned it. “uh… if it’s really okay…”

heeseung peeked through his fingers, still looking like he wanted to disappear. “yeah… if that’s what you want.”

you laughed awkwardly. “well… looks like we’re having a sleepover.” “but she’s a girl!” heeseung blurted out, clearly panicking. “well, isn’t she your girlfriend?” his dad asked, like it was the most casual thing in the world. both you and heeseung froze, turning an even deeper shade of red. “what? no!” you shouted at the same time, the words tumbling out in unison. his mom chuckled, clearly amused by how flustered you both were. “oh, come on, you two are practically inseparable.” heeseung groaned again, burying his face in his hands. “mom, it’s not like that!” you cleared your throat, trying to regain some composure. “yeah, we’re just… friends,” you said, though the word friends felt strange given everything that had happened. his parents exchanged a knowing glance but thankfully didn’t push it. his dad waved his hand dismissively. “well, either way, it’s settled! y/n’s staying, and we’re celebrating!”

before either of you could argue, his mom was already clearing away the textbooks, setting down the bottles and glasses like they’d planned it all out. heeseung groaned again, muttering into his hands. “this is a nightmare.” you giggled, nudging him gently. “looks like we’re having a party.” “please kill me,” he muttered, but you could see the hint of a smile creeping at the corners of his mouth. your eyes flickered toward the bottles of alcohol on the table. “looks like they want us wrecked,” you mumbled. heeseung peeked out from behind his hands, glancing at the alcohol. “they’re trying to ruin my life,” he grumbled. you laughed, picking up one of the bottles. “well, we could always just… go with it. celebrate your grades, make a night of it.” heeseung raised an eyebrow, still hesitant but clearly tempted. “you wanna get wrecked with me?” “why not?” you grinned, pouring a small shot. “might make things less awkward.” he let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “yeah, well… anything’s better than this.” he grabbed a glass, finally giving in. “let’s just hope my parents don’t come back.” “why? you planning something?” you teased, watching him fumble with the bottle. heeseung froze for a second, eyes wide before quickly pouring the drink, mumbling, “n-no, I just… thought it’d help loosen things up.” you laughed, thoroughly enjoying how flustered he was getting. “i’m not gonna bite, heeseung.” he handed you a glass, managing a shy smile. “yeah, well… i might need a few of these to survive tonight.” he raised his glass with a grin. you raised yours, smirking as you clinked it against his. “here’s to surviving tonight.” heeseung downed his shot too fast, immediately coughing from the burn. “shit,” he muttered, wiping his mouth.

you shook your head, laughing at him. “lightweight.“ “hey!” he protested, pouring another shot, clearly determined to redeem himself. “i can handle it.”

you took a sip of your drink, the heat crawling down your throat as you leaned in, a grin teasing your lips. "so, heeseung,” you started, your voice light, playful. “what’s the wildest thing you’ve ever done? i bet there’s a troublemaker hiding in there somewhere.”

heeseung blinked, clearly thrown off by the question. “wildest thing?” he rubbed the back of his neck, looking like he was actually trying to come up with something. “uh… does passing out drunk at a party and making you carry me home count?”

you shook your head, grinning wider. “nah, that’s just you being a dumbass.”

he laughed, the sound a little looser now as he leaned back in his chair. the alcohol was starting to settle into him, easing the tension in his shoulders. “okay, okay. i’ve done some dumb shit with jay, but nothing… wild. not like you’re thinking.” “really?” you teased, raising an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “not even a single scandalous high school moment? i’m disappointed.” he snorted, shaking his head. “if you’re looking for scandalous, you’re barking up the wrong tree. i’m awkward as hell. you know that.” you leaned in a little more, closing the space between you just enough to make him shift in his seat. “yeah, but that doesn’t mean you can’t surprise me,” you said, your voice dipping low, teasing, with something heavier lingering beneath it. the atmosphere shifted, the air thickening as you hovered closer. heeseung swallowed hard, his eyes flicking to your lips before darting away again, his nerves clear as day. “i can be full of surprises,” he mumbled, though his tone wobbled, like he wasn’t sure if he believed it himself. “oh yeah?” you leaned back, pretending to think it over, enjoying the way he squirmed. “like what?”

heeseung grabbed his shot glass and downed it like he needed it to survive, the alcohol clearly giving him the little boost of courage he was looking for. “well, i’m here, aren’t i? with you. that’s gotta count for something,” he said, trying to sound casual, but the way his voice wavered gave him away. the nerves were still there, bubbling just under the surface. you chuckled softly, your eyes holding his. “yeah, i guess it does,” you murmured, your words carrying more weight than before, something unspoken, something just on the edge of everything you weren’t saying. the conversation kept going after that, but the energy between you two had changed. it was lighter, more comfortable, the tension from before still there but softened. you laughed together, swapping embarrassing stories and favorite movies, the topics flowing easily. but every now and then, you’d catch him staring a little too long, or feel the brush of his knee against yours under the table, and each small touch sent sparks buzzing across your skin. heeseung fiddled with the empty glass in front of him, his voice dropping, more hesitant. “you know, you’re… different than i expected.” you tilted your head, heart picking up pace. “oh yeah? what’d you expect?” his eyes stayed on the glass, thumb tracing along the rim as he shrugged. “i don’t know… i guess i didn’t expect to feel like this.” “like how?” you leaned in slightly, your curiosity spiking, the tension between you building, thick with something unspoken. heeseung inhaled deeply, lips curling into a small, awkward smile. “honestly? i thought i’d never have a girl interested in me. they’re usually, uh… repulsed.” you blinked, his bluntness catching you off guard. “repulsed? heeseung, you’re not repulsive,” you leaned closer, your words carrying more weight. “awkward, maybe, but in a cute way.”

he let out a short, self-deprecating laugh, shaking his head. “nah, you don’t get it. i’ve had girls literally avoid me. so when you stuck around? i didn’t know what to do.” “well, i’m still here, aren’t i?” your voice softened, leaning in even more. “and i’m definitely not repulsed.” heeseung’s eyes met yours, his face flushing deeper as he tried to process your words. “yeah… i guess you’re different,” he mumbled, voice shaky, like he didn’t fully believe it. you leaned in, your knee brushing against his under the table, the contact sending sparks up your spine. “i don’t think you give yourself enough credit, heeseung. the only person getting in your way… is you.”

heeseung swallowed hard, his gaze flickering to your lips, lingering for just a moment before darting away. “fuck,” he muttered, barely audible. “why do you even like me? i feel like i’m gonna mess this up any second.” you smiled softly, your voice dropping to a whisper. “maybe that’s why i like you. you’re real. awkward, messy, but real.” he ran a hand through his hair, clearly flustered, muttering under his breath, “and a guy who came in, like… seconds.” you bit your lip, trying not to laugh as a flush crept up your neck. “yeah,” you leaned in, your voice teasing, a little bolder. “but i didn’t mind.” heeseung’s eyes widened, snapping to yours, shock and disbelief written all over his face. “you didn’t?” you shook your head, your hand brushing against his lightly. “nope.” you held his gaze, watching him swallow, his breath catching, the tension between you rising. heeseung’s voice came out barely more than a whisper, breath shaky. “i thought you’d hate me for that.” “if i hated you, i wouldn’t be here,” you said softly, your fingers lingering against his. “and i definitely wouldn’t still be thinking about it.” heeseung’s eyes darted down to your hand, then back up to meet your gaze. his lips parted slightly, his breath coming in short, shallow bursts. “fuck,” he whispered, the tension in his voice obvious. “i’ve been thinking about it too… a lot.” he shifted, grabbing a pillow to cover the growing bulge in his pants, trying to hide it, but failing miserably. “damn, y/n,” he muttered, torn between embarrassment and the arousal coursing through him. “this again?” you teased, leaning in with a smirk. “gonna jerk off to me in the bathroom again?” heeseung froze, eyes wide as realization hit him like a ton of bricks. “wait… you knew?” his voice cracked as he sat up, completely caught off guard.

you bit your lip, trying not to laugh. “oh yeah, i knew. you weren’t exactly subtle, heeseung. these walls are thin.” heeseung groaned, burying his face in his hands, the pillow slipping from his lap as he practically melted into his chair. “oh my fucking god,” he muttered, voice muffled by his hands. “this is so embarrassing.” “hey, no judgment,” you said, your amusement barely contained. “it’s kinda flattering, honestly.” he peeked through his fingers, still horrified but curious. “flattering?” you nodded, your grin widening. “yeah. at least i know i have that kind of effect on you.” heeseung groaned again, slumping further into the chair, torn between wanting to disappear and being completely turned on. “fuck, y/n…” he muttered, his voice strained with frustration. “i’m starting to think you’re a liar. 'cause it’s like you never get as flustered as i do. shy, yeah, sure… but do i even make you wet?” his voice came out breathless, desperate, searching for reassurance.

the boldness of his question hung in the air between you, thick and heavy with anticipation. your heart raced, your lips parting as you considered your answer.

you raised an eyebrow, surprised by how bold he’d gotten, but the smirk on your lips couldn’t be stopped. “oh, you really wanna know?” you teased, eyes locking with his.

heeseung’s breath caught, but he nodded, his face turning redder by the second, gaze not leaving yours. “yeah,” he whispered, voice so soft you almost didn’t catch it. “i need to know.”

leaning in close, you brushed your lips against his ear, letting your breath ghost over his skin, the tension between you crackling like electricity. “well, let’s just say…” you paused, savoring the moment, then pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes again, your voice dropping low, “i’ve been wetter than i care to admit this whole time.”

his eyes widened, his breath catching, the weight of your words hitting him hard. “fuck,” he groaned, running a shaky hand through his hair, clearly torn between excitement and embarrassment. “why are you so good at this?”

“i’m not,” you murmured, your voice dripping with teasing heat. “i just don’t have a dick to give me away when i’m turned on.”

heeseung let out a breathy laugh, the tension in his body spilling over, but the flush on his cheeks remained. “fuck,” he muttered again, shifting awkwardly, the pillow doing absolutely nothing to hide the obvious. “that’s so unfair,” he whined, his frustration clear in the way he fidgeted. “you just sit there all calm, and i’m over here losing my mind.”

you leaned back, the smirk never leaving your lips. “why don’t we drink a bit more then?” you suggested, your tone playful but laced with challenge, watching the way he struggled under your gaze.

heeseung swallowed hard, clearly debating whether alcohol would help or push him deeper into the mess. “yeah, maybe…” he muttered, his hands trembling as he reached for the bottle again. “fuck, i need to calm down.”

you chuckled softly, amused by how flustered he was. “take it easy,” you teased, raising your glass. “you’re making this way too fun.”

heeseung groaned, downing his shot far too quickly, wincing as it hit his throat. “fun for you, maybe,” he mumbled, setting the glass down with a shaky hand, his face still flushed with heat.

you threw back your own drink, feeling the burn in your chest, but what really made your pulse race was the way he was looking at you now—his wide eyes, the way his lips parted like he was struggling to breathe, that growing desperation in the air between you both. “heeseung?” you whispered, voice trembling with the warmth of the alcohol and the intensity of his gaze. he blinked, like he was trying to snap out of it, but his eyes stayed glued to yours. “god,” he muttered, voice strained like he was barely holding it together. “you’re making it so hard to think straight.” you bit your lip, and his breath hitched, his chest rising and falling in these shaky, uneven breaths. “don’t do that, please,” he practically begged, his voice laced with desperation, eyes squeezing shut as his head fell back, neck exposed, tension radiating off him like heat. “don’t do what?” you whispered, voice soft, fingers tracing slow, teasing circles on his thigh. you pushed the pillow out of the way, and the second your hand made contact, heeseung gasped, the breath in his throat trembling like he was on the verge of falling apart.

“that,” he rasped, his body trembling under your touch, fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white. you leaned in closer, your hand drifting higher, watching him unravel beneath your fingers. “i thought you wanted this,” you teased, your lips brushing lightly against his ear. heeseung’s eyes fluttered open, staring at you with this raw mix of desire and desperation. “i do… but you’re driving me fucking crazy,” he whispered, his voice thick with need. “i can’t handle it… not when you’re this close.” “then touch me,” you whispered, voice dripping with temptation, the tension between you suffocating. “don’t you want to?” heeseung’s eyes shot open, wide, filled with disbelief. “can i?” he asked, voice shaky, his hands hovering like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to. ��you really want me to?” you nodded slowly, your breath grazing his lips, every part of you buzzing with anticipation. “yes, heeseung… i want you to.”

for a second, he hesitated, but then his hands, trembling, finally made contact, resting on your waist, tentative and careful like he was scared he might break you. “fuck,” he whispered again, fingers tightening on your hips as he pulled you closer, his voice cracking with disbelief. “i can’t believe this is happening.” “what if i cum just from touching you?” he muttered, nervous excitement all over his face, his hands still shaking slightly as they gripped your waist harder. you didn’t even answer, just straddled him, thighs pressing down on either side of his hips, and the second your lips crashed against his, it was like all of his control snapped. heeseung’s arms wrapped tight around you, pulling you against him like he couldn’t get close enough. his kiss was hot, needy, filled with every ounce of tension that had been simmering between you both. instinctively, your hips ground against him, and both of you groaned at the sensation. he broke the kiss, lips trailing down your neck, hot and messy, his breath burning against your skin as he groaned, hips pushing up into yours, hands gripping your waist like you were the only thing keeping him grounded. and then, in one quick move, he lifted you up like you weighed nothing, placing you down onto the bed. the sudden shift made your heart race, excitement thrumming through your veins as he hovered over you, eyes dark and wild with need. but then, just as fast as it started, you saw the hesitation flicker across his face again, that shy, unsure side of him slipping back. his hands hovered just above your body, trembling all over again. “wait, y/n…” he whispered, voice shaking. “i don’t wanna mess this up.” “heeseung…” you whispered, your voice soft as your hands cupped his face, pulling him in close. “you’re not messing anything up. i want this. i want you.” heeseung swallowed hard, eyes locked on yours as if he was trying to process the reality of what you just said. “you’re sure?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper, like he still couldn’t believe this was happening. “i’ve never been more sure,” you reassured him, pulling him even closer, your lips brushing against his. he hesitated for a second, breath shaky as he stared at you, then slowly started fumbling with his shirt, his hands trembling. even as he undressed, his eyes never left yours, like he was afraid to break the connection. the intensity in his gaze, even though you were still fully clothed, sent shivers racing up your spine.

when his shirt finally hit the floor, revealing his toned chest, he froze, hovering above you like he didn’t know what to do next. his hands trembled, barely grazing your skin, unsure and nervous. “heeseung,” you whispered again, gentle but insistent, urging him forward. “it’s okay… come here.” “you’re so beautiful,” he mumbled against your neck, his voice thick with need as his lips pressed hot kisses along your skin. his grip on your hips tightened, and you could feel the slight tremble in his hands, his restraint barely holding. “can i take it off?” heeseung’s voice shook with desire as his fingers hovered at the hem of your shirt. the question hung in the air, thick with anticipation. you nodded, giving him the green light, and he wasted no time, peeling your clothes off piece by piece, his breath catching in his throat with every inch of skin revealed. his eyes were dark and hungry, devouring your body. “fuck…” he muttered, voice thick and almost breathless, his fingers grazing your waist, trailing up to your ribs.

“i’ve imagined this…” he confessed, his voice raw and rough, his hands trembling as he unclasped your bra. his eyes locked onto your chest, pupils blown wide as he whispered, “and fuck, you’re even better than i imagined.” his lips trailed lower, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses down your chest, his hands wandering down until his fingers found the waistband of your pants. “i need to see all of you,” he whispered, his breath shaky as he slowly tugged your pants and panties down. the way his gaze devoured you made your pulse quicken. once you were completely bare beneath him, heeseung paused, taking in the sight of you with a mix of awe and disbelief. “wow…” he whispered, his fingers trailing up your thigh, the touch light but electric. “you’re perfect.” he settled between your legs, his breath shaky as he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, inching closer and closer to your core. “god, y/n…” he groaned, fingers gripping your hips as his nose brushed against your heat. “it’s so pretty… and wet,” he muttered, almost to himself, before dipping his head down and dragging his tongue over your folds. the groan that escaped him was pure need as his lips wrapped around your clit, swirling his tongue in slow, messy circles. "you taste amazing,” he moaned against you, the vibration of his voice sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. he was uncoordinated, his movements sloppy and inexperienced, but the raw hunger driving him made up for it. your hips bucked involuntarily, his groans muffled as he buried himself deeper between your thighs, sucking and licking with frantic desperation.

“heeseung,” you gasped, your hands tangling in his hair, tugging him closer as your body arched beneath him. his fingers found your breasts, squeezing with nervous eagerness.

he whimpered against your pussy, his desperation evident in every flick of his tongue. “i want more,” he groaned, voice strained as he latched onto your clit, sucking harder, his movements growing frantic.

“heeseung…” you moaned, your body shaking with the intensity of it all, your legs trembling as you teetered on the edge of release. “fuck, you’re perfect.”

he lifted his head, lips glistening with your arousal, eyes wide and uncertain as he asked, “do you like it? am i doing good?”

your heart swelled at his words, at the vulnerability mingled with his overwhelming need to please you. “yes, heeseung… fuck, yes,” you breathed, fingers tightening in his hair. “you’re doing so good. i love it.”

his face lit up at your praise, a small, satisfied smile tugging at his lips before he dove back in with renewed determination. his fingers fumbled at your entrance, sliding inside you, hesitant but eager, trying to mimic what he’d seen in porn. his movements were clumsy, but the desperation in each thrust, in every flick of his tongue, was enough to push you closer to the edge.

his fingers pumped in and out, curling inside you as his mouth worked messily over your clit, his body trembling with the effort to make you cum. every whimper, every shaky breath only added to the tension building in your body, sending you spiraling higher and higher.

“heeseung… don’t stop,” you gasped, your voice breathless, pleading. “please—don’t stop.”

“shit, i’m making you cum, aren’t i?” he whimpered against your core, his voice shaky with anticipation. “it's so warm...”

and with one more thrust of his fingers, you shattered, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave, pulling you under. your hips bucked, thighs squeezing around his head as you cried out his name. heeseung moaned against your clit, the sound vibrating through you as he worked his fingers inside you, prolonging the pleasure as long as he could.

“fuck, y/n… you’re so hot,” he groaned, his voice thick with awe as he watched your body writhe beneath him. "so fucking pretty when you cum…”

heeseung’s face was flushed, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he looked up at you with wide, desperate eyes. “did i do good?” he whispered, voice trembling with the weight of everything that just happened. his hips kept grinding against the mattress, searching for some kind of relief, his cock straining painfully against his pants. the sight of him so worked up, so needy, had you biting your lip to keep from giving in too quickly. “you turn me on so much…” heeseung’s voice cracked, overwhelmed by the sight of you. he was a mess, nearly shaking as his need for you grew stronger, and the lust was becoming unbearable. he's so fucking horny. “please, y/n… i need to be inside you,” he begged, his voice raw with emotion. “i can’t… i need you.” but instead of giving him what he wanted, you leaned down, your breath hot against his ear, and whispered, “not yet.” heeseung froze, wide-eyed, panic flashing in his expression as he tried to process what you said. his breathing got shallow, and he almost looked like he was about to break, but before he could speak, you grabbed him by the face and kissed him hard, hot, and breathless. it left him gasping, his hands trembling as they clawed at your waist, desperate to feel you, to have you.

“shit, i can taste myself on you,” you murmured against his lips, and the sound of your voice alone made him moan. His hands gripped you tighter, but every touch felt like it was pushing him closer to the edge, like he was going to lose control at any second. “i thought you—” he tried to say, voice barely holding together.

you cut him off, flipping him onto his back with one swift move, leaving him stunned beneath you, his breath coming in sharp gasps. The way you moved over him, the way your lips trailed down his chest, sent shivers up his spine. “wait,” he pleaded, his hands fisting the sheets as your lips grazed his skin, leaving a burning trail in their wake. “god, if i wasn’t so wasted that first time… it would’ve felt this good.” you smiled against his skin, your tongue tracing a line along his waist as your fingers hooked into the waistband of his pants. heeseung gasped, body tensing in anticipation, completely at your mercy. “i want it to feel better than you ever imagined,” you teased, slowly pulling his pants down. when his cock sprang free, hard and leaking, you hummed in satisfaction, eyes locking onto his as you leaned in, dragging your tongue up from the base to the tip.

heeseung let out a loud, desperate moan, his back arching off the bed. “fuck… oh my god,” he cried out, his voice cracking as pleasure hit him like a tidal wave. “this feels—” he couldn’t finish, his words dissolving into incoherent sounds as you swirled your tongue around the tip, tasting his precum. every flick of your tongue had him trembling, his breath coming out in ragged gasps, his hips jerking up into your mouth uncontrollably. “more,” heeseung begged, voice barely a whisper, body shaking with need. his desperation was clear in the way his fingers tangled in your hair, gripping tight but not pushing—like he was too afraid to break the moment, even though he needed you so badly. you took him deeper, inch by inch, savoring the way he bucked underneath you, his moans turning louder, more frantic. heeseung’s jaw went slack, his head thrashing back into the pillow as he clenched his eyes shut, trying to hold on but clearly losing the battle. “y/n,” he groaned, his voice breaking, raw with need. “how are you—oh my god, this is insane.” his breathing became erratic, his hands fisting the sheets as the pleasure built inside him, spiraling out of control. you could feel him tense, his entire body shaking as the tension mounted higher and higher.

“oh fuck, fuck… i can’t—” he panted, panic edging into his voice as the intensity threatened to overwhelm him. “wait, s-slow down… what if i can’t get hard again—”

but that wasn’t enough to stop you. you took him deeper, your hand stroking him in time with your mouth, driving him closer to the edge with every motion. his moans turned into ragged, broken sounds, his hips bucking up into your mouth despite himself.

“ah, y/n—” heeseung gasped, the tension inside him snapping all at once. his entire body seized, his hands gripping the sheets so tight his knuckles turned white. with one final thrust, he came hard, spilling into your mouth with a loud, desperate moan that echoed through the room. his voice was raw and unrestrained, his mind blank from the sheer intensity of it all.

as he finally looked down, he saw you still between his legs, your lips hovering close to his still-twitching cock. then he heard it—the soft sound of you swallowing, gulping down everything he’d just given you.

“no fucking way,” heeseung whimpered, wide-eyed, voice trembling with disbelief as you licked along his still-sensitive length, your tongue teasing him in slow, deliberate strokes. every touch sent jolts of electricity through his already overstimulated body, but despite it all, his cock stayed hard, throbbing under your attention.

you raised an eyebrow, that playful smirk pulling at your lips as you glanced up at him. “oh? still hard from that?” your fingers wrapped around him, stroking his cock lightly as you spoke.

heeseung’s head dropped back onto the pillow, his hands fisting the sheets. “i-i shouldn’t be… i don’t even know what’s happening,” he groaned, voice thick with pleasure and exhaustion. “but fuck, y/n… that was—holy fuck.”

his breath hitched as you moved, straddling him with an ease and boldness that left him completely wrecked. “don’t tell me you’re gonna— you’re killing me,” he muttered, chest heaving, trying to sit up, his hands reaching for you. but before he could get a grip on anything, you had his wrists pinned down above his head, your hips hovering just above his throbbing length.

“shh…” you whispered against his ear, your voice soft but demanding. “let me take care of you.”

heeseung whimpered, eyes wide and filled with lust and disbelief, completely at your mercy.

“but i… fuck, i want this so bad,” he whined, voice cracking, body practically vibrating with need. “i want you to ride me, but i also want to…”

you silenced him with the smallest movement, pressing your hips down just enough to have him gasping. “you’ve done enough,” you whispered, lips brushing against his ear, making him shiver. “now it’s my turn.”

heeseung’s body tensed under you, his head pressing into the pillow as he watched you take control, watched you slowly lower yourself onto him. “wait…” he gasped, feeling the way your warmth enveloped him, the sensation hitting him all at once.

you rode him slow at first, deliberate in every motion, your body grinding against him with an intensity that had him completely undone. “just like that, please,” heeseung whimpered, voice trembling as he sniffled, overwhelmed.

his hands clenched into fists above him, pinned down by your grip, his hips bucking up to meet your movements, trying desperately to keep up. every squeeze of your warmth around him, every roll of your hips, sent shockwaves through his entire body, his cock pulsing, threatening to push him over the edge again.

“not so fast… y/n,” heeseung begged, his voice breaking, glassy eyes filled with desperation. “your pussy… fuck, it’s so tight—i don’t think i’m gonna last—shit,” he panted, chest rising and falling rapidly.

“am i still making you feel good?” he whimpered, the need for reassurance thick in his voice. “i wanna make you cum…” his words wobbled, dripping with pride and vulnerability, desperate for your approval.

your moans answered him first, loud and unrestrained, and even though that was enough for him, he needed more. he needed to hear it straight from your lips. driven by the sound of you coming undone, he bucked his hips harder, faster, trying to match the rhythm you set, every roll of your hips pushing him deeper.

“you look so good… i love this… fuck, i love you,” heeseung choked out, barely coherent as the words tumbled from his lips. his hips jerked beneath you, wild with desperation, his breath ragged, voice broken. "i love fucking you… you're so wet, make my cock feel so good—" he babbled, eyes half-lidded, entirely mesmerized by the way you moved, by the pleasure consuming both of you.

“i love you,” heeseung repeated, voice raw, thick with emotion. his hands twitched, still pinned down by your grip, desperate to touch you, to pull you closer as his love and need for you flooded every inch of him.

the way you bounced on him, making sure he fucked you deep with every thrust, had heeseung completely shattered. every moan slipping from your lips was like a hit straight to his sanity, and the tight, wet grip of your pussy clenching around him had his vision blurring, his mind spiraling. “fuck, i’m so close—please, please let me cum in your pussy,” he begged, voice trembling, the desperation in every word clear. “i wanna see it spill out of you.”

you leaned down, your breath hot against his ear, sending a shiver through him. “oh yeah? how bad do you want it?” your words teased, but they hit him like a punch, and he locked eyes with you, pleading silently, needing you to take him over the edge, needing you to give him the release he craved.

“so bad… please, it’s all i want—fuck, please!” he sobbed, voice cracking as his hips bucked uncontrollably, his body convulsing beneath you. pleasure and need swirled inside him, almost unbearable, and you still didn’t let up. each roll of your hips, each slow grind, was torture, dragging him right to the brink, his hands flexing, desperate to hold on, desperate for you.

“i’ll even—” he gasped, his chest heaving, “fuck—i’ll eat it out of you, eat my cum out of your pussy once i’m done,” the words tumbling out in a breathless moan as his head fell back against the pillow, lost in the intensity. the wet, obscene sounds of your bodies colliding only added to the heat between you, his mind spinning, overwhelmed by it all but still needing more.

“you're crazy, hee,” you groaned, breathless, “you’d really do that? what else have you been thinking about doing to me?”

his hands gripped your ass tighter, guiding your movements, his hips thrusting up to meet you with a frantic need. heeseung’s breath came in short, ragged bursts, his eyes blown wide with lust. “i think about you all the time,” he admitted, voice hoarse, shaky from how raw it all felt. “every night… thinking about you riding me just like this. fuck—sometimes i imagine you tying me up, keeping me there so i can’t move… and i’d just have to take it.”

he choked on a moan, the fantasy making his body shake beneath you, each confession spilling out uncontrollably. “you’d be in control,” he whimpered, words barely coherent. “make me earn every second i spend inside your pussy…”

the thought alone had him dizzy, his body quivering beneath you. “and then—fuck, i’d be so desperate, i’d cum so fast, but you wouldn’t stop, would you? you’d make me keep going, even when it hurts… 'cause i want it, i want all of it.” his voice cracked, hands shaking as he held onto you for dear life, eyes glazed with pure need.

he was practically vibrating, his whole body humming with arousal, his mind clouded with filthy thoughts that only made him more desperate. “wanna learn how to make you squirt with my mouth,” he gasped. “could spend forever eating your pussy.”

your own arousal spiked at his words, his dirty fantasies making your heart race as you leaned down, brushing your lips against his ear. “you want me to sit on your face?” you whispered, your voice dripping with teasing cruelty. “want me to smother you with my pussy until you can’t breathe?”

heeseung’s entire body shuddered, his grip tightening on you as he gasped. “yes, fuck yes,” he moaned, voice trembling with need. “please, suffocate me with it. i want to drown in you, taste every inch of your pussy. i’d let you use me until i can’t think straight, i swear. fuck… just… anything.”

you bit your lip, smirking as you watched heeseung completely unravel beneath you. “so you want to be my little toy, huh?” you teased, grinding down on him harder, forcing a loud, broken moan from his lips.

his entire body tensed, head falling back against the pillow as he whimpered, hands clutching your hips with desperate need. “yes, fuck, i’d be anything you want, just use me,” he begged, his voice cracking. “please, y/n… i just want to make you feel good.”

“oh, heeseung,” you cooed, amusement dripping from your voice as you leaned down, kissing him deeply, your tongue teasing his as he moaned into your mouth. “you’re such a good boy, aren’t you? always so eager to please.”

he groaned, trembling as you continued to ride him, the wet sounds of your bodies moving together filling the room. “yes, i just wanna be good for you,” he whispered, barely holding it together.

his words, his submission, his desperation—it only pushed you closer to the edge.

you quickened the pace, grinding harder, faster, driving him to the brink of insanity. the tight, wet heat of your pussy squeezing him had heeseung losing the last shred of control. his breath hitched, his body stiffened beneath you, overwhelmed by the building pressure.

“fuck, y/n—i’m gonna—" his voice cracked, trembling as he begged for release. his hands twitched, desperate to touch you but still pinned down. “please, i can’t—i’m gonna cum,” he whimpered, tears filling his eyes as he stared up at you, completely at your mercy.

but you didn’t stop. pushing him deeper into that maddening pleasure, his hips bucked beneath you uncontrollably. “please, please,” he sobbed, his voice shaking, body trembling as his orgasm hit him like a wave, stealing his breath. “oh fuck, oh god, please—” his moans grew louder, higher-pitched, raw with submission as he came deep inside you, cock pulsing wildly.

“i can’t—i can’t stop,” he cried, tears streaking his flushed cheeks as his hips jerked beneath you, unable to control the way his body responded. “i’m so sorry—no, i’m cumming so much,” his voice cracked, filled with both pleasure and apology as his release seemed endless, his cock twitching violently, spilling more and more inside you.

and the sight of him like this—lost in his own pleasure, tears running down his face, voice shattered—pushed you over the edge.

your body tensed above him, the pressure inside you snapping, and your orgasm crashed through you in powerful waves. a loud, unrestrained moan ripped from your throat, your body trembling as you rode the high, your walls clenching tight around his cock, milking every last drop.

as his orgasm finally began to fade, heeseung was still gasping for air, his body trembling beneath you, completely spent and sensitive. small, broken whimpers escaped his lips as the intensity of it left him dazed, his skin slick with sweat, chest rising and falling rapidly.

even after his release slowed, every slight movement made him jerk beneath you, soft, needy moans slipping out. “y/n…” he whispered, voice shaky, barely able to form words. “i couldn’t stop… you made me… fuck, it was so much.”

his eyes fluttered open, hazy with exhaustion and pleasure, his face still flushed and tear-streaked. when your body settled down on top of his, heeseung’s trembling hands reached up, pulling you close. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, trying to catch his breath.

“i’m so sensitive… so fucking sensitive,” he murmured, voice barely audible, his body shivering beneath you. every small touch sent shocks through him, leaving him overstimulated, yet still craving your warmth, your touch.

heeseung’s grip on you tightened, his arms wrapping around your waist as he held you close, chest heaving against yours. soft, shaky kisses pressed to your skin, his lips brushing gently against your neck. “that was… i don’t even have words…” he let out a soft, breathy laugh, still panting, mind completely blown by everything that had just happened. “i didn’t know… it could feel like that,” heeseung whispered, his voice shaky with disbelief.

“so you love me, huh?” you teased, resting your head against his chest and glancing up at him with a playful smile.

heeseung’s heart stuttered, post-orgasm bliss now mixing with a wave of nervous energy that hit him all at once. his cheeks burned a deep red as he tried to find the right words, arms still wrapped tight around you, like he couldn’t bear to let go.

“i mean… yeah, i guess i did say that, huh?” he mumbled, embarrassment thick in his voice, his eyes darting away from yours for a second, too flustered to meet your gaze.

he bit his lip, trying to hide how hard his pulse was racing, but then, as if he couldn’t hold it back any longer, he shyly glanced back at you. the vulnerability in his eyes was clear, he answers, “but fuck… yeah. i do.” the blush on his face deepened, spreading down his neck, hot and intense. “i love you.”

he let out a small, awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his neck like he always did when he was nervous, clearly unsure of how to navigate this new level of intimacy. “didn’t really plan on confessing like this, though…” he sighed, gaze flickering to the ceiling, face still flushed. “such a dick move, right? confessing during sex…” the nervous chuckle that followed only made his embarrassment more obvious.

his hands rested gently on your back, a bit hesitant, like he didn’t know how to fully relax into this moment. “i didn’t mean for it to come out like that… it just—” he paused, struggling to find the right words, his voice softening, more sincere now. “it felt right… but not because of the sex.” his eyes found yours again, searching your face, his voice a quiet plea. “i meant it, y/n. even if it was the worst possible timing, i really do love you.”

he paused again, his blush darkening, clearly thinking about his premature orgasm from that first time. “god, you could’ve had anyone, and you still decided to tutor me after that mess…”

his words hung heavy between you, and you could feel the rapid thudding of his heart beneath your palm. he was still so vulnerable, even now, as if he couldn’t quite believe that you had chosen to be here with him—his arms wrapped around you, both of you lying together after the most mind-blowing sex of his life.

“heeseung,” you whispered, your voice firm but filled with warmth. “i wanted you then, and i want you now. that doesn’t change just because things didn’t go perfectly.”

heeseung stared at you, eyes wide with disbelief, like he couldn’t quite wrap his head around what you were saying. “really?” his voice was quiet, fragile, like he was afraid to believe it.

“yes, really,” you reassured him, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. “i love you. you don’t have to be perfect for me to feel that.”

his face lit up instantly, a wide, boyish grin spreading across his face, almost as if he wanted to cry from sheer happiness.

“say it again,” he practically whined, his voice overflowing with joy as he eagerly leaned down to kiss you, lips messy and eager.

you laughed into the kiss, pulling him closer, your heart swelling at the sight of him so happy. “i love you,” you repeated, louder this time, playful. his whole face lit up like a kid on christmas morning, and you could feel his excitement in every touch, every eager kiss, his hands pulling you as close as possible.

“yup, i’m never gonna get tired of hearing that,” he mumbled between kisses, his hands roaming your back, holding you tighter. “say it forever.”

“well, i totally fell in love with you first,” you teased, looking up at him with a playful grin.

heeseung’s smile widened, eyes gleaming with mischief. “i should be thanking you for that, 'cause i would’ve been way too chicken to do anything.” he chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief. “seriously, i wouldn’t have done shit.”

“was it because of my—” he started, obviously about to crack a joke, but you cut him off with a laugh, shoving him lightly.

“don’t even try it,” you teased, giving him a pointed look. “it wasn’t because of whatever you're about to say.”

he grinned, refusing to drop it. “no, really—was it because of my charm or my amazing… skills?” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, even though his red face gave away how flustered he still was.

you rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips. “it’s because you’re awkward, sweet, and everything i didn’t know i needed,” you said, voice softening as you leaned in to kiss him again. “but sure, let’s pretend it was the 'skills.’”

“look at you, mr. confident all of a sudden,” you teased, feeling the warmth spread through you as he relaxed completely, more playful and at ease than ever before.

heeseung shrugged with a smirk. “maybe i’m learning from the best,” he murmured, leaning in for another slow, deliberate kiss. “you bring it out of me, y/n.”

“whatever, hee,” you chuckle, and he groaned softly at the nickname, arms tightening around you as he buried his face in your hair, pressing soft kisses to your forehead.

“a nickname?” he gushed, pulling back just enough to look at you, eyes shining with excitement. “i’m totally your boyfriend now, aren’t i?”

his excitement was contagious, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how happy he seemed. “yes, you’re totally my boyfriend now,” you teased, running a hand through his hair, watching him grin down at you like he was the happiest person in the world.

“fuck, i love that,” he mumbled, his voice filled with pride and affection as he kissed you again, this time slower, savoring the moment. “your boyfriend,” he whispered between kisses.

he pulled back slightly, a teasing grin tugging at his lips. “so…” he started, mischief clear in his voice, “can i tell jay you totally made the first move?”

you snorted, shaking your head. “heeseung, you can tell jay whatever you want,” you teased, brushing your hand along his jawline. “i know you just wanna brag that you didn’t cum prematurely this time.”

heeseung blushed, but his sheepish smile was impossible to miss, his eyes gleaming with playful pride. “well… i mean, it’s kind of a big deal, right?” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “i finally made it through without embarrassing myself, so yeah… maybe i will brag a little.”

“you’re ridiculous,” you muttered, laughing softly as you nuzzled into his chest.

heeseung’s grin widened, but then he shifted, his fingers trailing down your side with a teasing glint in his eyes. “oh, but before i do that…” he murmured, sending a shiver down your spine. “remember what i said earlier?” he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear.

“i still want to eat my cum out of your pussy.”

the heat rushed through you, your pulse quickening at his words, and you felt your body tense with anticipation. heeseung’s eyes darkened, filled with lust and longing as he watched your reaction, waiting for you to give him the green light.

“fuck, hee,” you whispered, breathless, your body already responding to the idea. “you’re really gonna do that?”

he nodded, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, breath hitching slightly, eyes flicking up to meet yours, wide and full of anticipation. “if you’ll let me,” he whispered, voice soft and pleading. “i… i want to so bad.” his hands trembled slightly as they rested on your hips, his gaze filled with a mix of awe and desperation.

heeseung’s entire body shuddered as he lowered his gaze, like he couldn’t bear the weight of how much he needed this. “you’re gonna love it,” he whispered. “please… tell me i can.”

you couldn’t resist the way he begged, voice trembling with need, so you nodded, granting him what he so desperately wanted. without hesitation, heeseung kissed down your body, his lips soft, breath hot against your skin. when he reached your core, he paused for a second, taking in a deep breath like he was savoring the moment.

“thank you,” he whispered, barely audible, before his tongue flicked out, tasting both you and the remnants of his cum. the sensation sent a shockwave through your body, making you jerk slightly from the overstimulation. his grip tightened, keeping you steady as his tongue worked slow, deliberate strokes along your slit.

“fuck,” he groaned, eyes rolling back for a second, licking another long, slow stripe. he looked up at you, eyes wide and submissive, tongue covered in the mixture of his cum and your juices. without breaking eye contact, he swallowed with a deep moan, like it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. “we taste so fucking good,” he mumbled, diving back in with more eagerness, licking your pussy clean.

your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently, guiding him as he continued, every flick of his tongue sending electric shocks through your body.

the overstimulation was intense, but his desperation to please made it impossible for you to ask him to stop.

heeseung pulled back only when he was sure he’d cleaned every last drop, his lips glistening, chest heaving. “did you like it?” he asked, voice trembling, eyes still wide, desperate for approval.

“yeah, you did so good,” you whispered, still catching your breath.

he smiled, pride swelling in his chest, and he kissed your inner thigh before crawling up to hold you tightly. his body trembled with exhaustion as he collapsed into your embrace.

“come on,” you whispered softly, brushing the hair from his sweaty forehead. “let me take care of you now.”

heeseung blinked up at you, too tired to protest even though you could see he wanted to. “but—”

“no buts,” you teased, kissing him gently. “you’re exhausted. I want to run you a bath.”

he watched you with those wide, trusting eyes as you moved around the room. grabbing his hand, you pulled him to his feet, guiding him to the bathroom. “you don’t have to do this,” he whispered, but the look of gratitude on his face said otherwise.

“i want to,” you insisted, turning on the tap, watching as the water filled the tub. his body was flushed, still trembling from everything that had just happened, mind blown from the intensity.

“sit,” you commanded softly, helping him into the tub. the moment the warm water enveloped him, heeseung let out a soft sigh, leaning his head back, his eyes fluttering shut.

kneeling beside the tub, you ran your fingers through his damp hair, massaging his scalp. he hummed contentedly. “this is nice,” he whispered, voice sleepy.

“you deserve it,” you murmured, kissing his temple. “just relax, heeseung.”

he smiled lazily, reaching for your hand, squeezing it gently. “thank you for this… for everything.”

as he started to drift off, he opened his eyes, a playful glint shining in them. “hey… does this mean i can tell jay now?”

you laughed, shaking your head. “you can do whatever you want, hee.”

grinning like a little kid, he grabbed his phone and, with zero shame, called jay. “hey, jay?” he said, trying to sound casual, but his voice was still filled with excitement. “yeah, you’ll never guess what just happened… nope, no premature shit this time. and guess who made the first move?”

your eyes widened in disbelief, laughter bubbling up. “you’ve got to be kidding me, heeseung,” you muttered, shaking your head.

he winked at you, a cheeky grin plastered on his face as he continued bragging to jay. “told you i’d brag,” he mouthed, clearly proud of himself.

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NOW PLAYING

ADVANTAGE

Starring: Hiromi Higuruma, Shiu Kong + Toji Fushiguro, Shoko Ieiri, Sukuna Ryomen, Takuma Ino

You’re just so naive. . .it’s nearly impossible for them not to take advantage of you

Warnings! fem!reader, Major dubcon for all of them (the reader is “dumb,” that’s the whole point,  but also aware of the situation, if that makes sense, BUT EVERYONE INVOLVED IS A LEGAL ADULT 18+), oral (m receiving), throat fucking, double penetration, anal, fingering, size kink, minimal prep, cherry popping, oral (f receiving), dumbification

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Hiromi Higuruma: Court Reporter <3 

Hiromi made it a rule not to date anyone from work: not the other lawyers, not the paralegals, & certainly not his secretaries. So he wasn’t concerned at all when the court sent you to be his personal reporter, keeping track of all of his cases & prosecutions. In fact, he was thankful; finding someone to be there to monitor all his cases was so helpful. 

It wasn’t until you called him in utter distress, saying your computer had crashed & you’d lost all the notes for his most recent case, that he was rethinking his little rule. You were just so apologetic, so sorry that he couldn’t help but feel terrible. He told you he’d meet you at his office, & there you were, teary-eyed & drowning in your apologies, blubbering about how he just can’t fire you, you need this job. & he’s wiping your tears, atypically kind, sitting down next to you & holding your hands, saying that everything’s gonna be okay, trying so hard not to stare down your shirt, also avoiding eye contact because how come you look so fucking hot with tears & mascara streaming down your face? 

He’s sure he’s lost his mind when he cups your face, looking down at you, & says, “I can think of a way you could show me that you’re sorry. That’s all it’ll take, & then it’ll be all fixed, water under the bridge,” & you’re nodding so enthusiastically. Anything, you’ll do anything to prove you’re sorry, even sit down on your knees & work his rock hard cock in your tiny manicured hands, even loll your tongue out & suck the tip, teasing him, even cup his balls & slide your mouth off his dick with a resounding ‘pop,’ asking “like this?” ‘Cause you just want to make him feel good, leave no room for any doubts that you’re terribly, awfully sorry about what happened. Let his tip kiss the back of your throat ‘til it hurts, ‘til your tears start up again, ‘til you’re gagging around it & he’s fucking your face carelessly, letting your drool fall down your chin onto his office floor. 

Holding your head against the base of his cock while he cums down your throat, listening to you whine & try to pathetically push on his thigh ‘cause it’s too much & you can’t breathe. But he accepts your apology & assures you that if anything like this ever happens again, he’s more than willing to let you show him you’re sorry. 

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Shiu Kong + Toji Fushiguro: Client’s Daughter <3

Shiu & Toji made it a goal not to get too personal with clients. All they really needed was a name & location. Anything further might be helpful, but is ultimately unnecessary. Shiu drives, Toji kills, they live happily ever after. But some of their high-rolling clients like to make a day out of it; invite them to dinner or some expensive VIP only nightclub, & throw money in their face. The problem with this was that it meant the job was going to be difficult, more difficult than usual. So they usually turn those assholes down; the cash is hard to say no to, but the last thing they need is to get arrested or get involved in some underground crime scene. The underground crime scene they’re already involved in is plenty of trouble for them, they certainly don’t need another one. 

But when some rich CEO comes sniffing around for them, offering them a large sum to take care of a psycho stalker that’s after his daughter, certainly they’ll take the job. It’s what a good person would do, after all, & when you come to them crying about how he followed you home, they’re sure to comfort you because what a fucking asshole, they’ll make sure to make him suffer, & “there’s no need to cry, sweet girl, we’ll keep ya safe,” Shiu grins, wide & smug. They’re looking at each other shit-eating, like they know exactly how to comfort you. 

You’re a little confused when they guide you to Shiu’s bedroom, saying you’ll be safe here, that they’ll protect you. 

“B-but what about my da—” They laugh at you. 

“What about him, sweetheart? He’s not here right now, is he? Don’t you worry your pretty little head, you weren’t made for such hard thinking.” That’s what Toji says to you as he slips his hands under the waistband of your skirt, pulling it down to your knees with your pink panties, too, & he groans at the sight of your slick covering your thighs. 

“Already wet for us, huh pretty girl? Jus’ wanted us to come fuck you, s’that right?” Shiu snickers, kneeling down on the bed in front of you, unbuckling his pants. 

& you’re so good for them as they stretch you out, Shiu fucking your cunt all soft & gentle, draping you hair behind your ears, kissin’ away your tears, whispering about how pretty you are, how sweet you are while Toji fucks your virgin ass, groaning at how you suck him in, smacking your ass & watching it recoil & turn red as you’re crying about how it “f-feels weird.” But obviously it can’t be that bad when you sucking them both in cumming around them in a matter of minutes. 

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Shoko Ieiri: Patient <3

Shoko saw lots of patients; sorcerers were dangerous people who led dangerous lives, it was common for them to get hurt. She wouldn’t say she picks favorites, but it was your third time visiting her in just one month, & she can’t say she’s upset about it. A cute little thing like you just needs to be taken care of by someone capable like her. 

“Does Yaga send you on like ten missions a week, or what?” she muses, eyes downcast on your stitched arm. She was applying antiseptic, & then she’d send you on your way. Or so you think. 

“Haha, not really,” you giggle. “I guess I’m just pretty clumsy.” & your stupid grin boils her blood. Why on earth would Yaga & Gojo think someone so frail & innocent could be a jujutsu sorcerer? “Thanks for the stitches, Doctor,” you joke, moving to sit up after the bandage is carefully placed. She holds your arm in place. 

“I’m not quite done,” she murmurs, ushering you to sit back down. 

You give her a look of confusion. “But I’m not hurt anywhere else, I promise.” 

She shakes her head. “I know, but it’s been a while since you’ve had a checkup; we’re supposed to do them annually.” A lie. You had a checkup only six months ago, & there’s no further regulations. But why would you know that? & of course, a doctor would never lie to you. . .at least not Shoko, right? So you lie down flat on the table like she instructs, comply—albeit a little reluctantly—when she motions for you to lift your waist so she can pull off your clothes, you let him spread your legs apart, but it’s when she’s running her fingers along your inner thighs that you say, “I didn’t h-have to do this for my last exam. . .?” 

“Just gotta be thorough, you know? Try not to squirm, ‘kay? Gotta stay still for me,” she says, thumbs spreading apart your pussy, which is already getting wet for her. & you try your best, you really do, to stay still, but it’s so hard not to squirm under her penetrating gaze, with how focused she is on your drooling cunt, you’re so embarrassed, almost inclined to apologize, but she doesn’t mind. In fact, it makes the exam easier when you’re aroused. 

“Sh-shoko, what-what’re you doing?” you whine, when she presses the soft pad of her thumb against your clit, rubbing small, centered circles on it, enough to really make you squirm. But she grabs your thigh, holds it down on the examination table, & her grip is commandeering. 

“Aw, you’re just gushing for me, pretty girl. Why are you this wet, huh? Were you thinkin’ about this when you came in here? Thinkin’ about me playing with your little pussy?” she sneers. She’s so mean about it, pressing on your clit enough to make you feel good, but not enough stimulation for anything else. 

“N-no, promise, Shoko, didn’t think about it, promise,” you whine pathetically, practically panting, which is probably true; the idea of Shoko teasing your pussy with her skilled fingers didn’t occur to you before now, but now that it was happening, you can’t imagine why you hadn’t thought of it before.

You whine pitifully when she sticks just one long finger in your pulsing cunt, shushing you when you cry about it being too deep. “S’just one finger, pretty, you can’t take it?” Of course you can, you’ll take it for her. Even when she adds another one & you’re writhing in her grip, losing your sense of rationality. & you’re whimpering & drooling & moaning & panting as she scissors you open with her fingers, hitting that special spot deep inside you ‘til you cum so hard around her fingers, whining her name the whole time. 

Needless to say, you pass the examination with flying colors. 

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Sukuna Ryomen: Maid <3

There’s no manipulation or convincing with Sukuna; Uraume hired you for a reason. Sukuna has maids & then he has maids, if you catch the drift. Seems like you didn’t, though, because you’re confused when he’s requested your presence in his personal chambers for some special cleaning that needs done. 

“B-but I’m a kitchen maid, my lord,” you mumble, averting your gaze because he’s just so big & intimidating & you don’t know how to act around him. He’s ushering you into the bedroom & pulling you down to sit on his lap, mouthing at your neck like some immature teenager; all the while you’re whining about how unprofessional this is, how you’re a maid, not a concubine, & more importantly. . . “I’m–I haven’t ever—” It takes him a second because he’s mostly ignoring your pathetic attempts at stopping him, but when he catches on, he just smiles like an asshole. 

“If you think I care, woman, you’re wrong,” he sneers, baring his teeth at you as he continues to suck on the pulse point of your neck, working your shirt up & your pants down, groping your boobs, pinching your nipples ‘til you’re crying out ‘cause why does it hurt & feel so good at the same time? Sticks his hand in your panties & chuckles when he notices how wet you are.

“Thought you said you were a virgin,” he says, teeth nipping at your skin. 

“I-I am, my lord,” & god if you keep calling him that he’s gonna bend you over on this bed & fuck you raw ‘til you pass out. But somewhere in the deep recesses of his curse heart, he feels a little sorry that he’s about to stick his massive cock in you & it’s probably gonna hurt, but of course he gets even harder just thinkin’ about that. So he fingers you open while you cry at the foreign sensation. It doesn’t necessarily hurt yet, but it’s new & a little weird as you feel it build up in your stomach, whimpering ‘bout it until you’re cumming on his fingers. 

He doesn’t waste any time pushing your face into his pillows & pulling your robes the rest of the way off, hiking your hips up to meet his until you’re barely even on the bed, lining his cock up with your little hole & slowly pushing in, inch by tantalizing inch. 

He fucks you like that until you’re pliant & drowsy, unable to take anymore of his teasing ‘cause you’re head is zeroed in on his fat cock & you’re creaming around the base of it for the nth time. “Hurts, Sukuna, it hurts, s’too big, you’re too big,” you’re babbling & he’s loving it ‘cause of course it’s too big stupid girl, he thinks, holding his hand against your tummy, feeling his cock push against the soft skin. 

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Takuma Ino: Nanami’s daughter <3

You love your dad’s mentee, Takuma. He’s just so nice to you, never makes fun of you or teases you, always compliments you & makes you feel so good about yourself. 

So when it’s raining so hard outside & it’s dark & he says that it’s not safe to drive, of course you stay at his house; he’s such a good friend, always looking out for you. & no way he’s gonna make you sleep on his couch, not when he has a perfectly good bed in the other room that’s big enough for two. You’re a little confused, not sure why he’s so insistent on sharing a bed with you, but you go along anyway because Takuma’s your best friend. 

He reassures you that Nanami won’t care about you staying over, & more importantly, that he doesn’t have to know that you let Takuma eat you out with you face all smushed in his sheets, that you let him tongue fuck you over & over, cumming all over his tongue until you’re on the verge of passing out, whereas Takuma’s just getting started. He knows you’re tired, all worn out, so he’ll fuck you nice & soft ‘til you’re dizzy from the pleasure & you’re head’s just not working right, working a finger into your ass ‘cause he’s a little mean like that, telling you that all the best girls take it up the ass, & that next time you’re pussy is tired & overwhelmed from cumming so much, he’ll put his dick in your other hole instead, he promises it won’t hurt, he’ll take such good care of you, just like you deserve. You don’t gotta do anything, just let him make you feel good. He loves it, how smart & capable Nanami could have such a ditzy & sweet daughter who’ll let Takuma fuck her whenever she wants. “‘Cause what your dad doesn’t know won’t hurt him, sweetheart.” So you let him put his cock in your ass, fat tears falling down your plump cheeks, wriggling in his tight hold ‘cause it feels so different. Not bad, but not necessarily good either, but he praises you so much for being his good girl, for taking it so well for him. “So proud of you sweet girl, you’re so good for me, always doin’ just what I ask.” You don’t need to be smart or quick, Takuma likes you just the way you are.

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no, I am not ok in the head. . .thank u for asking though <3

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[folkloreandfable]

Culpa mea

Synopsis: All will pay the price for their follies. Even you. One mistake drove a wedge between you and your betrothed. Now, with a looming war, you must make choices that will alter your life. For better or worse. Pairing: Jacaerys x targtower!reader Warnings: None. A/N: English is not my first language, so please excuse any errors.

ALICENT HIGHTOWER’S FINAL BIRTH was the most excruciating. Hours of pain and sweat-glistened skin until, finally, shrilling screams drowned out her sobs of exhaustion. A set of twins. Boy and a girl. Daeron is the spitting image of dragon blood, silver hair, and amethyst eyes. You, however, had dark hair with tinges of red and deep dark eyes that turned to the colour of a dying ember when caught in light. 

You were unlike any of your siblings. You lacked the inherent cruelty seeded in Aemond and Aegon, but possessed the spiritedness lacking in Helaena. Growing up, you were aware of the games and power struggles that were woven into the undercurrents of your family, yet remained ambivalent. When your mother warned you about not getting too close to Rhaenyra’s ‘bastard’ children, you paid no mind. Not like you had any idea what it meant, either. You happily went out to play with them, anyway. Until the incident, at least.

Aemond got into a fight with Luke, which lost him an eye. You were furious. Your brother lost his eye, yet your father did nothing. No one punished Lucerys. Instead, your father declared you betrothed to Jacaerys while you seethed at them behind your mother’s skirts. That night, he came to you; you demanded he and his brother apologise to Aemond but Jacaerys argued Aemond was in the wrong. The quarrel ended in no resolution and you saying “Mother was right, we should have never associated with bastards!” 

Which you came to regret. You stayed up all night, tossing and turning, thinking of how you would apologise to Jacaerys when you see him again. Come morning, your mother declared you are to be sent away to Old Town with Daeron. She would not have her blood sullied by a bastard and your grandfather came up with the idea to send you away until they could find a proper ‘fix’. Though Alicent and Otto promised Viserys that they’d call you back when you are of marriageable age.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Six years later,

YOUR GRANDSIRE has yet to convince your father to break off your engagement to Jacaerys and find a more ‘suitable’ match. According to your father, there is no more suitable a match than the heir to the Iron Throne. When the Viserys fell ill, your mother reluctantly calls you back at his behest. You arrive post-haste on the back of Silverwing, donning Hightower Green and a pendant of the seven. You saw something flicker in your mother’s eyes when she received you, but it dissipates as quickly.

Your sister arrived with her uncle husband and their brood. Soon you’re at the grand hall, standing with your mother and siblings, in opposition to your eldest sister and her children. There were two more since you last saw them. Jace had grown up to be quite handsome as well. He’d make a fine King, even more so once starts slouching less. You eagerly await until you finally his gaze and offer a small smile, but he looks away. It was like a knife piercing your heart. You have not left on the best of terms, yet a part of you hoped that there was room for reconciliation. You sent him letters, profusely apologising for your words and offering amendments. Yet all went unanswered. It wore on you that things might never go back to the way it was. And part of it was your fault. In your rumination, you almost did not react when Daemon cut Vaemond’s head off. But that was the conclusion of a strenuous ordeal. Alas, the worst was still to come.

Supper was a tense affair. Your father decided to play pretend a happy family for one night and who could deny him? You often forgot that Viserys Targaryen was your father. That fire ran through your veins. Perhaps it was for the best. Perhaps forgetting you were a Targaryen meant that envy and resentment wouldn’t consume you as they consumed your brothers. But their anger was misplaced. But it was also seeded by your grandfather. You may have been away, but you were not ignorant of what was at play here. The distance may have given you more clarity in your judgement.

You were sat opposite Jacaerys who avoided your gaze at all costs, finding the uncomfortable toasts far more interesting before giving one himself. Though you revelled in Aegon’s uncomfortable expression when Helaena made her toast, andit turned indignant once Jacaerys invited her to dance. The table settled into a somewhat comfortable atmosphere, and you took a few sips of wine as a personal celebration of that achievement. Though you should have known better when Aemond suddenly stood to give his toast. 

“Come, let us drain our cups to these three…strong men.”

Your heart sank into your stomach when he finished his sentence. It was a good thing that your father was taken to his chambers a while ago. The grip on your goblet tightens as a fight ensues and the weakly woven tapestry of a loving family completely unravels. You all get sent to bed by Daemon and on your way out, you distantly hear about them leaving for Dragonstone.

As the night got eaten away by daylight, you awaken to the sounds of bells and panic as a heavy dread settles within you. And your instinct did not betray you. Your father was dead and Aegon would be king.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

YOU PACE RESTLESSLY, stone clacking underfoot and fire crackling in the hearth. Nothing felt right. And it wasn’t just Aegon being missing. Why would your father, who unwaveringly insisted Rhaenyra was his heir, change his mind regarding something so detrimental and only express it in his dying breath with no other witnesses? You did not have the highest opinion of King Viserys, but knew he had the wisdom to know better. You paused in your steps, casting a side-long glance at your mother, who sat at the table with steepled fingers and a contemplative look with no show of guilt. So either your father truly had a change of heart on his deathbed or something else was at play here. Though your mother was clever, much of her cunning came from Otto's influence. She would never have been capable of lying about something like this. At least, not without it surfacing in her countenance.

“Your grace,” Ser Cole’s voice pulled you both out of your stupor as he stepped aside to reveal Aegon at the doorway. They found him, and you do not know what to feel except the lead-like weight settling on your chest. You were not one to believe in bad omens. It was but a creation of the cynical human mind that was incapable of believing in anything good. But you weren’t so sure anymore.

The coronation was arranged swiftly with all of King’s Landing gathered in the Sept to watch the crowing of a new dragon. You almost pitied Aegon seeing his downtrodden stance as he walked down the aisle. But you also knew Aegon. Once he tasted power, this will all become a happy memory. Your mother greeted him with a small kiss on the forehead before handing him over to your grandfather. You press your lips in a thin line and let your gaze wander to the crowd. Somany faces, all of whose fate lives in the House of The Dragon. No matter who wins the game, they lose. As the Septon recited prayers, you noticed a hooded figure in the crowd who reeked of suspicion, but your attention was pulled back to Aegon before you could follow it. 

The conqueror’s crown now rested upon your brother. Aegon the Second, lord of the Seven Kingdoms. His eyes swept those at the altar as they lowered their heads, one by one. And with each one, you could see unearned pride seeping into his bones. You, too, lowered your head when the time came.

A slow smile formed on his lips as he turned to the crowds with arms wide open and they erupted into cheers. He revelled in it. 

*SCREECH*

A sudden shrill permeated the halls, along with a cloud of smoke, and the cheers turned to screams of terror. You held on to Helaena, cowering as you whispered prayers for protection. Smallfolk pushed and shoved against one another, eager to escape the monster revealed to be Meleys as the dust settled.

“OPEN THE GATES!” Your grandfather’s voice bellowed through the halls, your mother rushing to Aegon whose bravado dissipated like the heat of a burning ember submerged in water.

You slowly lift your head to see Rhaenys looking down proudly from her steed.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

YOU WERE THE USURPERS there was no doubt in your mind left. You had your suspicions, but Rhaenys siding with Rhaenyra cemented it. Truthfully, you should do nothing. You had all to lose and nothing to gain. But you had this pesky honour and integrity that does not allow inaction. Your mind wandered to Jacaerys. He was sure to believe you were involved in this betrayal, and with your father gone, there was no reason for your betrothal to continue. You swallowed hard, feeling a knot forming in your chest. All your hopes threaten to shatter into smithereens.

Before you could ruminate further, your door opened with a creak, followed by the urgent footsteps of your mother.

“Is all well, mother?” You ask, propping yourself back up against the pillows as you take in Alicent’s tense shoulders and fidgety hands. She gives you a small nod before taking a sit next to you. Dipping the mattress ever so slightly.

“I thought we should talk.”

“Well, it must be a rather disconcerting discussion to agitate you so,” you offer an easy smile.

Alicent tried to return the gesture. Instead, she reached forward to grasp your hand. “Your grandfather and I have been discussing your future. Now that Rhaenyra believes us to be usurpers to the throne, there is really no hope of reconciliation, as your father hoped.”

You feel your heart begin racing at your mother's words. The lead dug deeper into your chest, but you gestured for her to continue.

“So we’ve arranged for you to be wed to Aemond.” And the pendulum drops. You don’t stop the tears prickling your eyes, but you try to keep your voice steady.

“But Rhaenyra has yet to make an indication she wishes to dissolve the arrangement. If she believes us to be traitors, then usurping her son’s betrothed after his throne would be the greatest offence–”

“Enough.” Alicent firmly shuts down and further retorts from you. “You do well to remember your place, daughter. And your place is next to a man of good breeding, like your brothers. Not some lowly bastard.” She spat out the last bit like spoilt wine.

“But–“

“Not. A. Word.” She squeezed your hands tight for emphasis before standing back up as if nothing happened. “Aemond is at Storm’s end, and we will announce your betrothal once he returns.” With that finality, she left, leaving only the echoes of her fading footsteps.

Alone once more, you allow the sobs bubbling in your throat to be free. This can not be happening. As much as you skirted around your feelings for Jace, there was no point in hiding from them. You loved him. Yes, it waxed and waned over the years but never diminished. The walls were closing in. Like an encased tomb of a prisoner whose only salvation lay in suffocation. A passive victim of fate. No. You needed to move. You could go back to Old Town, but it would only be a temporary respite before Alicent ordered you to be brought back by your uncle.

There was only one path for you left. It was uncertain and dangerous. But you would not rest until you saw Jacaerys, and he assured you that you were truly alone in the world.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

JACAERYS VELARYON always knew deep down that he was a bastard. The words uttered under hushed whispers and his utter lack of resemblance to Laenor Velaryon. He always suppressed those insecurities. He and his brothers were loved by their parents. All three of them. And received acceptance from their grandfathers. What were the words of a few lowborns to the words of a king? But he never understood that words could leave welts like lashes until they came from the tongue of the one he loved in secrecy. 

We should have never associated with bastards. 

The immediate regret in her eyes was a balm of sorts but the damage was done anyway. So he left. Part of him believed that they were out of anger and not from the heart. But she said it anyway. Even so, he was ready to forgive and forget it all with one word of apology. The messengers came and went but with none for him. Still, he perhaps deluded himselfinto believing she would be different despite Alicent’s influence.

He thought wrong.

“Are you sure of it?” Rhaenyra asked Master Gerardys once more.

“Yes, my queen, it is said that Queen Alicent’s younger daughter wishes to marry her brother Aemond and dissolve the betrothal with the crown prince.”

Jacaerys curled his fingers, nails digging into the flesh of his palm. “And what of it?” He snapped. “The betrothal is of no benefit to us and if she is willing to marry Luke’s killer then it is all  the more good reason to dissolve it!”

The eyes of the entire council landed on him at his sudden outburst but his mother just knowingly smiled. “We have more pressing matters to attend than a supposedly dissolved betrothal, anyway.” The queen smoothly changed subjects, which Jacaerys was grateful for but it never left his mind.

Later in the evening, Jacaerys sat opposite his mother's desk with his cheek on his hand, looking over papers. At least trying to. “It does not befit a prince to pout.” Rhaenyra chided with all but anger in her voice.

“I’m not pouting,” he murmured without a change in his stance.

Rhaenyra sighed, pulling her son’s hands into her own. “You truly did not believe that–“

“I do not wish to speak of it,” Jace swiftly interrupted.

“Very well,” she let go of his hands with a small squeeze. “But I wish to speak of my sister and I know she would never betray you like that. However the greens are, my sisters have not a cruel bone in their body.

“You know what she said to me–”

“I know, but that was years ago and her brother lost his eye. But I also saw the way she looked at you when we were in King’s Landing.”

Jace stiffened, swallowing the dryness in his throat, suddenly finding the woodgrains very interesting. “Really? I haven’t noticed.”

Rhaenyra only smiled and reached over to cup his jaw. “I want you to be happy, do not let petty misunderstandings and political games take it away.” Jace looked away again, focusing on his lap instead as his mother pressed a small kiss on his hairline. 

There was always the possibility of a carefully crafted misunderstanding between him and you, but he never allowed himself to fully consider it. To do so would risk hope—hope that would only lead to his heart being shattered into dust again. So he chose to assume the worst, that you were just like your family, complicit in all their schemes. 

Their moment would be soon interrupted by the heavy footsteps of Ser Erryk, who spoke with great urgency. “Your grace, we’ve spotted a dragon not our own heading for the castle.”

Rhaenyra shot up, her expression hardening as she rushed toward the terrace, Jace following with his sword half-drawn. Her eyes narrowed as she scanned the sky, searching for the creature soaring among the clouds. It was far too small to be Vhagar. “Stand down!” she barked, her voice sharp and commanding. The dragon drew closer, its form almost camouflaged by the grey skies, its dark silhouette flickering through the mist like a phantom. 

Jacaery’s hand dropped from the hilt of his sword in astonishment.

“It’s Silverwing…”

─── · 。ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You land Silverwing on the shores of Dragonstone and feel anxiety reel its ugly head again. You have no idea how you will be received on your arrival. Especially after the stunt Aemond pulled. Putting it mildly. You were not close with your half-sister, but she always treated you kindly in your minimal interactions. However, you would not blame her for anyhostility or suspicion toward you. She has every reason to distrust you.

Even so, you steel yourself, disembarking from Silverwing and tightening your grip on your skirts. In hindsight, wearing green was probably not the wisest choice either. But it wouldn’t be the first foolish decision you’ve made on this journey. You keep your gaze so low as you ascend the steps to the castle that you almost miss the woman standing on the landing, her presence sharp and unmistakable.

“Y–your grace,” you stammer, stumbling back a step to avoid colliding with Rhaenyra. She doesn’t move, only watches you with a gleam of curiosity in her eyes, the corners of her lips hinting at amusement. “I—”

"You’ve come a long way," she said, her words slicing through yours with practised ease. "We shall speak more on the eve." With that, she vanished inside—or so you assume, because everything blurred when you were met by a pair of smouldering brown eyes glaring from just behind her.

“Jacaerys.” ─── · 。ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ─── Note: This is definitely part 1 of 2. Thank you so much for reading <3 Inbox: Open

[kamiversee]

˗ˏˋ My Love Note ´ˎ˗

10 | I know that's

❧ Synopsis | In which Choso Kamo, your asshole of a best friend, starts to change after you get involved with a rather cheeky cashier, Gojo Satoru.

❧ Content | language, tension, flirting, mention of drugs & alcohol consumption, sexual tension, teasing, taunting, etc.

❧ Word Count | 7.2k (phew.)

❧ Pairings | Choso Kamo x f!reader & Gojo Satoru x f!reader.

| Chapters mlist |

——Back in your room, you wasted no time calling Gojo back. That whole… thing with Choso is something you’ll save your worrying for another day. As of right now, Gojo should be your main focus since you have a Halloween party to attend with him tonight.

Laying stomach first across your surprisingly neatly made bed, your feet dance back and forth in the air as you hold your cellphone to your ear and listen to Gojo ramble to you about his day. He didn’t address the phone hanging up at all or the way he definitely heard Choso’s voice before the line disconnected earlier—he just got on the phone, asked if you were alright, and then when back to what he’d been telling you before.

Which brings a nice smile to your face. It’s refreshing to have someone like Gojo to talk to, honestly. Not only do you really enjoy conversing with him or listening to him talk but, you also like how he didn’t question you like crazy. That simple act alone took some weight off of your shoulders because it meant you didn’t have to lie again. God knows you hate lying to the guy. 

But you’re not gonna tell him the truth either because the truth is terrible. How do you even being to explain to your crush that you almost fucked your best friend again in the short amount of time you were off of the phone with him?

“So,” Gojo continues, clearing his throat a bit between words. “Aside from tonight’s party, you don’t have any plans for today, right?”

Your head tilts further against the phone as you release a gentle sigh, “To my knowledge, no I don’t have any other plans. Why?”

He yawns softly, “Because, that gives us enough time to go last-minute costume shopping, remember?”

Chuckling into the phone, your lips curve into a smile. “Don’t you have work?” You ask.

You can’t see it of course but, Gojo rolls his eyes at that, “I mean, yeah… But I’m sure my boss won’t mind if I close up a bit early. It’s Halloween.”

“If you say so,” You comment. “I’m assuming you want me to meet you at the cafe in a few hours then?”

“Yup,” Gojo hums with a sassy lil pop of the ‘p’ at the end there. “Til’ then, I’ll have to drown myself in work. My break’s about to be over.”

You click your tongue and frown a bit, “Aw, well hopefully time flies by fast.”

“Yeah, hopefully.”

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

Once off of the phone with Gojo, you spend your day holing yourself up in your bedroom in an honest attempt of avoiding Choso. Luckily for you, at no point did he come knocking on your door trying to gain a bit of your attention. This provided you with a rather relaxing morning and afternoon of bedrotting.

Not the most productive thing to do but, hey, at least time flew by pretty fast. After lazying around for hours waiting for the right time, you ended up rolling out of bed and throwing on something cozy to go out in—you’d be changing into a costume in an hour so there was no point in dressing up too cute or anything. 

You end up exiting you apartment wearing something easy to get in and out of so that when you do find your costume, and in the event that it later gets uncomfortable, you have something else to throw back on. 

Taking a walk all the way throughout your campus just to reach that cute lil’ cafe you’ve grown to love and adore, you felt the season of fall brushing all against your skin as you walked. It’s as if that hectic morning of yours never even took place with how peaceful this part of your day was. For just a moment, it was only you and your thoughts. No horny Choso humping against you like a dog in heat, no anxiety induced thoughts screaming at you everytime Gojo talks to you… just, tranquility.

And when you finally arrive at the designated coffeehouse you’ve been to time and time again, a smile is painted across your face before you even push past the front doors. The sun is making it’s set so the sky is all pretty with different hues of oranges and reds—something you took a few pictures of on your way here.

Grabbing a hold of the warm metal door handles, you give it a light push and that homey smell of coffee rushes into your nose. A smell in which you’ve grown quite fond of given what follows shortly after…

No one is inside except for Gojo so the smile on your face merely brightens as you meet eyes with him. Almost like a damn puppy, his entire demeanor lightens up at your presence, pretty dimples peaking out in his cheeks as he reciprocates your happy expression.

You’re approaching the counter and he’s making his way around it, all too quick to embrace you by wrapping his muscular arms around your waist and pulling you in close. Gojo lets out a long sigh, “Been’ waiting all day to do this, y’know.” He tells you, voice muffled slightly with the way his face slowly barries itself into the crook of your neck.

You hug him back with the same amount of passion he’d approached you with and then smile. “Do what? Hug me?” Your voice is gentle against his ears and unbeknownst to you, his heart feels all weird in his chest. Then there’s these flutters your feel in your stomach at how good he smells and how stupidly clingy he seems to be today.

It’s this strange mix of coffee beans and his cologne that seeps into your nose now, making you hug him just a bit tighter to simmer into the scent some more. He smells like a hard working man and you simply love that for whatever reason. You suppose that thing people say about a man in uniform is true after all…

“Yeah,” Gojo soon answers your question whilst lifting his face from your neck and meeting your eyes again. His gaze stays put for barely even a second before he’s cracking a smirk and leaning in to kiss you. 

A brief grin ghosts your lips as he kisses you. Your arms firmly wrap around his neck and you push up on your toes a bit to deepen the connection of your mouths. Gojo’s lips feel like comfort against your own, almost as if you were ice and he the sun—his every touch melting you in his hands. You let out a small hum in between the kiss as he slots his lips against yours further, steadily drawing your bottom lip into his mouth and sucking on it.

His tongue dances against the plump skin for only a moment before he pries himself away and you both ease out a small breath of air. “And that,” Gojo says, “I swear you’re on my mind all day.”

Such a soft admission spoken to you so suddenly makes you gulp. “Am I now?” You whisper, noticing how he’s leaning back in for another kiss already.

Gojo wets his lips and smiles. “Yeah,” He utters back just as softly, skin brushing over yours, and eyes narrowing, “Jus’ can’t get enough of you.” Is the last thing he tells you before he’s ridding himself of all the space between you two again.

No one else is in the establishment, so you kiss for a hot minute. It’s soft at first, like always, but then it gradually heats up. His hands move to your waist and his head tilts further while his tongue makes its journey into the wet caverns of your mouth. Groaning at the sweet taste resting there, Gojo unconsciously steps forward with you. You naturally follow his lead and he ends up kissing you until your lower back meets the counter.

Not sparing you the chance to break the kiss, Gojo bends down a little and swiftly lifts you up onto the counter—his lips never once leaving yours. He feels starved as he makes out with you right in the middle of where he works. Hushing out a simple, “Taste s’sweet,” In between your lips.

You mutter his name somewhere throughout the kissing and one of your hands ends up on his chest, very faintly pushing him. As the kiss is severed, Gojo has this needy expression all over his face and his cheeks are reddened. He’s so pretty that it genuinely hurts to look at. It almost isn’t fair.

“Don’t we have some shopping to do?” You remind the man in a slightly breathless tone. 

Gojo bats his lashes at you almost innocently. “Yeahh, but we have time, don’t we?” As the words roll off of his tongue, his lips are curving into that taunting little smile again, and then his dimples are making yet another appearance.

His hands, which are so stupidly soft, trace the outskirts of your thighs upon the counter. Those almost beryl-blue eyes of his scan over your face, taking in every inch and curve, studying you, and getting mesmerized by you. If you looked way too closely into it all, you’d almost asume the guy was in lo—

You clear your own throat to cut that thought off. “No, it’s Halloween, silly.” You remind him with a smile, glancing down to your hands on his chest and moving your fingertips to trace what you can feel beneath his clothes. “There’s barely gonna be costumes as is, the later we go, the less there’ll be.”

Gojo sighs while he thinks for a moment. His bottom lip protrudes as he pouts and you can’t help the way you chuckle at that. “S’not funny. I really did miss you,” He tells you again, tipping his head down into your neck and pressing his lips against your skin, “But you’re right, we probably should head out now.” He’s agreeing with you with his words but the way he’s planting these soft pecks against your neck is saying something else entirely.

His kisses tickle and you end up holding onto his shirt a bit and letting out a giggle, “Satoru,” You call out once, receiving no sign of him stopping his ticklish kisses. Then you squirm and he smiles against you. “‘Toru,” You say, to which his teeth graze you.

“Such a tease,” Gojo simmered into your skin hotly. “Callin’ me that nickname like you don’t know what it does t’me…”

Full on smiling now, you angle your head to look at him and he pulls away from your neck to meet that incoming gaze. His pupils seem to expand ever so slightly as they’re met with yours but, you may have imagined that. “It does something to you?” You ask innocently as you push forward to slide off of the counter, “I had no idea…!”

That cheery faux innocence in your tone makes Gojo’s smile expand before his eyes roll. He watches the way you step aside and straighten up your clothes before sending him one last glance. Something about you really keeps his mind at this mushy state because every time his eyes lock with yours it’s like he can’t form a single thought in his brain that doesn’t involve you.

Staring, letting a small moment of the eye contact pass by, Gojo scoffs softly. “Riight, sure you didn’t.” He replies to your last comment sarcastically.

After that brief conversation, which could’ve easily progressed into something more if you didn’t stop him, you assist Gojo in cleaning up the cafe so he can leave with you. All you had to do was wipe a few tables off and then you watched him sweep and mop. It seemed like not many people had come in today given the state of the kitchen and how clean it was (you’d picked up on how messy it gets when Gojo is swamped with customers a while back).

Small talk is held almost the entire time up until he finally closes up and walks you to his car. It’s then that silence is welcomed back into your space and even as you walk with him, you still feel this comforting air wrapping around you. Especially when Gojo throws an arm over your shoulder and soon opens his car door for you. He’s so strangely perfect that you can’t help the way you feel for him.

Even throughout the car ride to… the nearest costume shop? He plays a bunch of Halloween songs and throughout Micheal Jackson’s ‘Thriller’, you notice that even Gojo’s singing is perfect. Hence why by the time you two make it to your destination your cheeks hurt from how hard you’d been smiling and you can hardly remember the last time a guy, aside from Choso, has made you laugh this much.

The shop he takes you to is rather… pricey, you note as the two of you stroll through together. And yeah, most of the shelves are cleared off and whatever’s left isn’t anything super creative. Gojo guides you to the back of the store though and you swear he had this all planned out in his head with the way he leads you straight to a particularly cute couples costume. 

“Y’know,” You start off, picking up the clearly designated costume that stands out in contrast to the other last-minute options left on the surrounding shelves. “If you wanted us to wear matching costumes, you could’ve jus’ said something.” 

When you glance back to Gojo, you notice the way he’s got a hand scratching the back of his neck and is looking off to the side nonchalauntly. “I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about, sweets…” He hums, that faint pigment of pink coating his cheeks yet again.

You snort, “Really? So how is it that you’ve led me all the way back here and straight to the only decent costumes left in this store?” As you speak, you lift the two costume packages up and hold them out to showcase them to him. “Not to mention, they just so happen to be the only matching ones too.” 

Gojo redirects his eyes to the items in your hand and he grins innocently. “This is a coincidence, really.” He chuckles, “I mean why would I—“ He stops himself mid-sentence at the look you’re giving him and just ends up sighing in defeat. “Okay, okay, fine,” His hands went up, “Ya’ caught me.”

You smile, “Mhm, I know. Now, are you gonna go ahead ‘n ask me to match with you orr…?”

His shoulders sink a bit, “Do I have tooo? You’re already holding the costumes, are you really gonna make me ask—“

“Yep,” You hum in response with a mocking pop of the ‘p’.

Gojo scoffs playfully. “Fine.” He starts, stepping closer to you, “Do you wanna be the cowgirl to my cowboy and y’know, ride throughout this Halloween night with me?”

There’s half a beat of silence that passes after the cheesiness that just left his lips before you burst out laughing. “You’re so corny, oh my God.” You snicker out in an airy tone.

He joins your giggling with his own and then tips his head to the side, “So is that a yes orrrr…?”

Rolling your eyes, you nod. “Yeah, I’ll be the cowgirl to your cowboy tonight, Satoru.” Then you hand him his designated costume and brush past him.

Gojo clenches his fist and brings it down to himself in celebration, whispering a little, “Yess.” To himself childishly while you make your way to the nearby dressing room.

There were other last minute costumes that’d caught your eye on your way to the back of the store but, you think you’re pretty content with the cowgirl costume you end up putting on. Sure, you passed the classics like witches, cheerleaders, vampires, ghosts, etc… but this costume fits you so well that it’s almost as if it were made for you.

It fits your body almost like a leather glove but without being too uncomfortable or tight. It’s a top and bottom set—mostly consisting of black and an accenting hint of red here and there. 

Once you get it on, your body is quickly flattered by the fabric. The top is long sleeved, cropped up high, and has a knot that ties right in the lower center of your chest with a vest that has these sparkly red stars on it. Then there’s the sorry excuse for shorts accompanying the top, that’s decorated with this semi-chunky belt with matching sparkly red stars. Lastly were the boots and hat, both black with hints of red, that completed the look.

And once you got a glance of yourself in the nearby mirror, you were gagged by how good you look. You spun around to get a full view of yourself, noticing the hug that the shorts have on your ass, shaping you perfectly. Hell, you almost never wanna take this damn thing off. And contrastingly enough, part of you is a bit self-conscious to actually go out like this.

It’s not until you take a deep breath and step out of the dressing room that your confidence returns to you with the wolf-whistle you recieve from Gojo. Your eyes had been somewhere on the floor until you heard the sound he let out, lifting your gaze to find him slouching back against some chair he managed to find and pull up. He’s got his legs all spread like some slut (not that you’d ever say this aloud, of course) and you don’t think there’s a single thought of innocence in your head as you take in the sight of him.

His costume is matching yours but, there’s a lot less skin showing, obviously. The shirt he has on is rolled up to his elbows and he’s got a teasing amount of his chest revealed—matching you with that low v-cut top you have, except his shirt is just a bunch of buttons undone.

His lower half is your typical pair of cowboy pants, all snug against his thighs, fabric straining over his muscles, and—

“Eyes up here sweets’,” Gojo says with a snap of his fingers. You flinch and revert your gaze to his face, gulping at the way he’d caught your gaze trailing elsewhere. “There she is,” He purrs, motioning with two fingers for you to walk toward him, “C’mere. Lemme get a better look at’cha.”

You almost awkwardly shuffle over to him, shyly covering your exposed midsection and trying to calm the pounding of your heart with each step you take. “Satoru, d-don’t you think this is a bit…” You hate how nervous you are right now, as if he hasn’t seen you with less clothes before.

Once you find yourself standing right in between his legs, he peers up at you with that ridiculously handsome smile of his. “A bit what?” Gojo hushes out as he reaches forward and moves your arms out the way to expose all of you to his greedy eyes. “I think you look perfect, like always.” He practically whispers, leaning forward and planting an all too affectionate kiss onto your stomach.

You flinch again and instinctively move your hand to his shoulder to push him back a bit, “Thank you but, I feel exposed.”

He acts as though you shoved him back, slumping into the chair like he was before and giving you this lovestruck expression as he meets your eyes. “S’okay,” Gojo tells you, “I’m sure there’ll be a lot more people wearing a lot less tonight so, you’ll feel more comfortable once we’re there.”

You give him a little nod in response and he moves his hands to trace your hips, feeling the tight fabric of your shorts beneath his fingertips and taking a deep breath. 

“And if not,” He moves to stand up and you’re reminded of the height difference between you two all over again. “I’ll give you my jacket or something, okay?”

Nodding again, you feel so safe beneath his gaze—almost like nothing else really matters when you’re around him. 

Once that’s all been settled, you and Gojo leave the costume shop. You forget to question him about how the hell you two were able to leave without paying for anything but, the rest of the night takes over all those questions you love asking him so much.

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

Before you even know it, you’re pulling up to this huge house, distant thumping sounds of music and giggles heard throughout the air as Gojo parks his car not too far off. There’s vehicles placed all down the street, people all over the front yard, some just hanging out and others taking pictures or even making out.

It’s been a while since you last attended a party but, the sight of multiple skimpy outfits brings you a sense of comfort as soon as you step out of the car. The music from the house is so loud that you can’t even make out what song is playing right now due to the bass. Even so, Gojo quickly approaches your side and rightfully places his arm over your shoulder like he did earlier, keeping you nice and close to him while the two of you make way for the entrance.

The atmosphere is overly lively. You can hear and see people laughing, talking, dancing, drinking, etc. The music vibrates off of the house walls as you and Gojo walk in, shuffling past hella people just to make it fully inside. The house-, mansion, really, is packed with semi-drunk college students and you’re quickly reminded why you don’t surround yourself with party goers almost every weekend like you used to. 

There’s definitely heads turning as you and Gojo navigate through the crowd of people but, you can’t really tell if that’s because of him or you.

You would’ve loved to say that Gojo was the most attractive man there but… it’s really hard to say that when you’re quickly stopped by some tall polished blonde man wearing a priest costume. Ignoring the way Gojo’s got an arm around your shoulder entirely, this guy grins at you kindly and he’s got the prettiest honey brown eyes taking in all of you as he leans toward you to voice a compliment.

“Beautiful costume,” The man says to you simply. From where you and Gojo had made it to, the music wasn’t overwhelming and you could actually talk to someone without yelling or leaning in too close.

Naturally, you smile in thanks and give him a little nod. “Thank you, I like yours as well. You’re a priest, right—“

“Nanami!” Gojo beams beside you, unconsciously telling you the name of the blonde man you were seconds away from making casual conversation with. “The hell are you doin’ here?” He asks in a taunting tone.

Nanami’s face flicks into something tired at the mere sound of Gojo’s voice. “I should be asking you that, Gojo. You’re supposed to be at work right now.” He says sternly.

Gojo chuckles lightly, “Oh don’t be like that, boss.” He says, taking his arm from around you and moving to tap Nanami on his arm, “It’s Halloween!”

Nanami sighs. “Yes, yes, I know. That’s why I’m not upset or anything but, you could’ve sent a text. I’d like to be aware of whether or not my cafe’s closing early.”

It suddenly clicks for you that Nanami owns that beloved cafe you visit practically everyday—something which, getting a good look at his chiseled face, just fits him. Nanami is exactly what you imagined Gojo’s boss looking like, honestly. The only thing surprising you here is the fact that he’s around the same age.

You’re about to say something to insert yourself back into the conversation but you’re interrupted by a familiar voice. “Oh my God, Satoru! You made it!!” Hori says overly cheerful.

By the time you turn your head to spot her, her arms are wrapping around Gojo’s waist and she’s hugging him tightly. Gojo hugs her back with one arm and forces a friendly smile onto his face.

“Hey Hori,” Gojo greets rather plainly. “Are you dressed as a… bunny?” He asks as he looks down at her within his grasp. You couldn’t really see her because of the way she was hugging Gojo but that didn’t bother you too much when Nanami steals your attention away with a light tap.

“I didn’t get your name,” He says to you, having leaned in a bit so that you could hear him clearly.

“Oh,” You chirp before extending a hand out and voicing your name to him. Nanami nods as he shakes your hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Nanami.” You greet officially.

He grins kindheartedly, “The pleasure is all mine, honestly.”

There’s a moment of prolonged handshaking before someone bumps into Nanami’s arm and your hands disconnect. You both look to see who it is and you’re met with this brown haired guy dressed as some kind of criminal (?). Tugging the skimask up off of his face, your eyes are greeted with a very contrasting face. He’s got these big doe-like eyes and his features scream innocence in a way.

“Woah, you’re pretty,” He chuckles, clearly tipsy off of whatever drink seems to be held in his left hand. “Y’Mind if I get your number?”

Your eyes go wide at his straightforwardness and all you do is smile at first. “Uh, I’m actually…” You slowly glance to where Gojo is, only to find that he’s been dragged elsewhere with Hori. You see his a peek of his snowy white hair amid the crowd and your shoulders slump a bit at how quickly he just left your side. Turning back to the brunette male, you nod, “Y’know what, yeah, sure.”

Nanami clears his throat and his phone is held out soon, “Me too actually,” He chimes in.

With that, you're entering your number into the two guy’s phones and then handing their devices back to them. The brunette soon informs you that his name is Ino and the three of you stand there making small talk for a bit.

It’s mildly concerning that Gojo just left you like that but you distract yourself with the two men talking to you at the moment. 

After chatting with them for a bit, they eventually part ways with you and you navigate your way through the sea of party people alone. There’s not a single familiar face throughout the crowd and it’s not until you notice you’re getting stares from people that you start feeling self conscious again. 

You thought that maybe if you made your way to the dance floor and vibed by yourself for a bit, you’d be fine. But, you don’t even make it that far because somewhere throughout your shuffling through people, someone grabs a light hold of your arm and pulls you out of the crowd.

You stumble into step to see who the hell decided to grab you like that. It wasn’t aggressive or anything but it was concerning since you’ve only seen unrecognizable people thus far.

“Finally a familiar face,” The sound of Utahime’s voice hits your ears and she’s turning to face you after pulling you far away enough to talk to you. “Y’know how long I was in that damn crowd looking for literally anyone I knew? I’m so glad I found you.” She says with a sigh.

Your chest feels light as you drink in her wearing a cheerleader costume. “I’m glad you found me too, I was walking around here for maybe ten minutes or so.” You explain.

She rolls her eyes, ���I thought you came here with Gojo? Did that asshole ditch you?”

You’re quick to shake your head. “Nono, he didn’t ditch me! I think Hori pulled him off earlier and I was talking with these other guys so we just got separated. Any longer in that crowd and I would’ve called him.”

Utahime pauses for a second while she gathers your words. Then, her expression changes and she smiles at you. “Oh, okay. I was just making sure because Gojo can be a real dickhead sometimes.”

“Think so?” You end up asking. This was the first time you’d heard anything remotely negative about him so, of course your curiosity is piqued.

“Yeah.” She replies, clearly having no intention of going further into an explanation at the moment. Then, with a sigh, she allows her eyes to drop down along your figure. Utahime lets out a small up and her head tilts, “Anyway, you look good—love the costume.” She compliments, her tone light and almost flirtatious.

Though, you could totally be misinterpreting things. “Oh, thank you! I love yours too, it fits you nicely.” Your returned compliment makes her smile and she allows her arms to fold beneath her chest.

“Aww, thanks. I think I—“

“Utahime!!” And there she is again… Hori. Cutting off yet another conversation and spawning into the scene out of seemingly nowhere, dressed as Regina George’s sorry excuse of a bunny from Mean Girls 1 (which is fitting since she’s blonde as well), Hori’s all smiley and her cheeks are lightly flushed. “I was looking for you everywhere. Where’d you run off to?!” She huffs as her arms wrap around Utahime’s singular arm and her head comes to rest on her shoulder.

Utahime says something to respond but all words and sound practically dies out in your ears as a pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind and a fluffy head of hair rests on your left shoulder. Flinching at the sudden contact, you don’t even get the chance to say anything before lips are grazing your ear and a familiar spread of warmth is brushing at your skin.

“Was lookin’ for ya’ everywhere, sweets.” Gojo hushes out into your ear. “God, you smell so good,” His voice lowers and the arms around your waist begin to shift along with his head. The tip of his nose is soon felt burying itself into the crook of your neck and he inhales sharply while his slender fingers smooth over the exposed skin of your waist.

Your body tenses up due to all the sudden touches but, a smile is sparking across your lips before you even realize it. “Thank you, Satoru. And, I was looking for you too… for like, ten minutes actually.” You inform him, earning a gruff little hum in response. “You invited me here ‘n then left me in less than five minutes…”

Gojo grimaces once the mentioning of his departure hits his ears. He sighs into your skin before pressing a small kiss at it, “M’sorry. First Hori pulled me away to find Suguru, and then some other people came pulling me along… I should’ve come back for ya’, my bad.”

You lean back against his touch a bit and your back becomes flush with his chest, “It’s okay, I’m glad you found me.”

“Yeahhh,” He sighs. For a second, you begin to wonder if he’s drunk with how sly his words seem to fall off of his tongue. “To make up for it though.. We could go—“

“Lemme guess, dance?” You cut off, recalling the last party you went to with him and how the same exact thing happened then. He really was a people magnet all around, huh?

Chuckling, Gojo gives your body a small tug and your ass is brought back toward his crotch. “You know it,” He says cheekily as he lifts his head from your neck and then drops his hands to your hips. It’s swift the way he spins you around to face him, your hands soon finding place on his chest and your eyes meeting his pretty blue ones. After which, he allows his hands to sneak behind you and grab a nice handful of your ass within his palm.

Ultimately, you were left looking up at him all surprised and confused. Gojo is touchy, sure. He always has been but… he doesn’t normally touch you so intimately out in the open like this. It was different. Not that you minded it but, it left you to wonder who or what he wanted to showcase these touches off to…

His cheeks were similarly flushed to how Hori’s were when you last looked at her, again leading you to wonder if he’d dranken anything. “Satoru,” You call out gently, moving your hands to cup his cheek and lull his expression a bit closer to your own for better study. “Have you been drinking?”

Gojo’s eyes take a second to actually focus on you, which silently tells you all you need to know. “Juuuust a lil’, yeah.” He admits to you.

To which you frown, “You went off and drank without me too? Wowww.” Your voice is clearly dramatic but Gojo seems to pout anyway.

Leaning in to you, he rests his forehead against yours and his arms circulate your waist again as he hugs you properly. “I jus’ had like, one cup of somethin’.” Gojo explains, his voice softening whilst his lashes bat in an innocent manner.

You stare at him. “One cup and you’re tipsy already?” You say, releasing a soft fit of laughter.

Gojo scrunches up his face a bit and you feel like it’s just you and him in the room right now, despite sounds of people laughing and talking all loud surrounding the two of you. “Mhmm. I don’t drink too often ‘cause I can't really handle alcohol too well,” He explains to you with a slight clearing of his throat.

The distant sound of Tory Lanez’s ‘The Color Violet’ can be heard and it makes Gojo lift his head and glance back toward where most people are dancing and the music is at its loudest.

Your eyes remain up on the man, “Should I be worried?”

He looks at you again and smiles, his brows tweezing together. “What? No. I’ve been told I get clingy when I’m drunk but aside from that, I’ve never done anything… stupid, I guess.” You hum in acknowledgement and Gojo starts backing away, tugging you along with him before he motions toward the dance floor. “Now c’mon, I owe you a dance, don’t I?”

It takes you a second or two to allow your body to be pulled properly with him but after that, your hand ends up in his and he soon pulls you through the crowd of people. 

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

The music gradually gets louder and louder until it consumes the entirety of your senses. You could feel the vibrations of the bass within each step you took, the music blurred throughout your ears, and all the dancing and lingering smell of marijuana and alcohol truly gave you that party atmosphere you’d forgotten about over the years. Before you even realize it, Gojo’s got you somewhere lost amid groups and groups of people dancing, trailing you closest to him using the grasp he had on your hand until you were able to dance right with him.

In contrast to dancing at that gala with him, you feel a lot more at ease here (surprisingly). Instead of gentle sways and intimate slow dancing, it’s more of sensual rolling of bodies against one another and long lasting glances all up and down your body that make you feel warmer than you should be. 

Gojo’s got his hands everywhere with little care as to who sees what. From your hips, following their structure and the way you sway them around and against him, to your waist, twirling you around so that your back is facing him one moment and then vice versa so he can gather all of your neon illuminated features.

His favorite bit of the dancing is very obviously when your back is facing him and you dance against him. It’s in the smooth rock of your hips against him that he gets lost in, eyes all casted downward on your lower half, watching the way you dance back against him. One moment he’s smiling and the next he’s genuinely dazed by you. Then again, it could’ve been the alcohol in his system that made all his senses feel heightened like that.

Gojo felt like he was high simply from dancing with you. So much so that at some point he had to ask you if he could go sit down for a bit because you were uh… causing a bit of stiffening to stir up in between his legs. Part of you wanted to tease him about how just a bit of grinding back on him had turned him on but, another part of you was ready to loosen up a bit and partake in some drinking of your own.

Nothing crazy of course but, you felt like you would be a little stiff in the crowd without Gojo by your side and if he wanted to go sit down but you wanted to continue dancing, you’d have to get some alcohol in you to lessen the tension in your body. As such, a small conversation between you and Gojo took place and he ended up pointing you toward the kitchen before letting you know he wouldn’t be too far off.

The house was huge but with the directions he gave you, you figured you’d be fine.

And honestly? You were fine navigating through people on your own this time. But just in case, Gojo did take it a step further and message you the same thing he’d told you (just in case you didn’t hear him perfectly enough over the music). 

How considerate of him. You thought to yourself as you made your way down a hallway and toward the far off kitchen.

Upon entering the space, you spot a few people making their own drinks, smoking, or talking with a friend but ultimately it’s a lot more laid back in comparison to the dance floor you’d previously been on. This allows you a moment to breathe, exhaling softly as you make way for the first stack of red plastic cups you find.

As you find a decent space on the counter to prepare your stuff, you begin to replay the small events from this party in your head. Smiling, you realize how wonderful everything’s been going for you thus far. You met two guys who were really nice, one of whom seemed to be acquainted with Gojo, Utahime was really friendly with you, and then dancing with Gojo just felt… nice. It was almost like things had gone too good for you tonight. Well, safe for Hori repeatedly interrupting something for you and failing to even say hi to you.

It’s not like you were expecting her to but, it would’ve been nice. She was standing right in front of you. Twice.

But hey, maybe she didn’t even remember you and the small convo you had with her. After all, this is her party and she clearly knows a lot of people so there’s probably a million and one things occupying that brain of hers. Speaking of which, that small conversation you had with her reminds you… didn’t you invite—

“How much for a ride, princess?” Choso’s voice suddenly hits your ears and you practically flinch out of your skin.

Your elbow instinctively shoots back and you nudge him right in his stomach with a loud yelp, “Jesus-, fuck, Choso!” You spew out before clasping your hands over your mouth in response to the sound of surprise you’d let out. “Scared the hell outta’ me.”

He lets out a laugh in between some sort of cough, probably one provoked from your strike against him just now. Slowly, his coughing fades into a full on chuckle and you move your eyes to gather the sight of him behind you. He’s wearing red and black, his hair tied up into two messy pigtails using these red hair ties, and—holy shit. Choso’s dressed up as Garu from Pucca. 

The realization makes you gasp dramatically as you turn around to face him fully. “Oh my God? Are you… Is that a Garu costume?!” You exclaim, moving your hands to his shirt and tugging him a bit close as you study the big red heart imprinted on the center of it.

Choso finally clears his throat and drops his eyes down to the way you’re pinching the hem of his shirt in between your fingers, “Uh, obviously?” He remarks sassily before lifting his gaze to your costume and cocking his head to the side. “And what are you supposed to be? A cowgirl?”

“Obviously,” You say mockingly. “Didn’t you just ask me how much for a ride like twenty seconds ago??”

His red gloved hand moves to brush your touch off of his shirt and then he smirks. “Yeah, ‘n you didn’t even answer, jus’ gave me a mean nudge to the gut…”

“You scared me!” You huff out to him.

Choso’s eyes settle firmly on the cleavage of your tits, not making any sort of attempt to avert his gaze as he talks to you, “I know.” His tone makes it seem as though he did that on purpose. “But I had to get back at you somehow. Who the hell invites their friend to a party and then makes no attempt to see if they’re still coming or if they even made it?”

Oh damn. You did kinda forget about him as soon as you got around Gojo… You don’t think Choso’s even crossed your mind again since earlier that morning. “Ohh uhm, sorry about that.” You say, a slight awkwardness drafting by mere seconds afterwards.

Choso gives you this loose nod of his head before stepping past you. “Yeah uhuh,” He hums casually whilst taking two of those red cups out from their stack. “Too distracted dancin’ with your partner to think about me, right?”

Your eyes follow him as he moves and you watch the way he fixes two drinks—one of them clearly for you. “He… He’s not my partner, Cho. I just—“

“No? But you two are matching,” He points out as he interrupts your next sentence. “Cowboy and Cowgirl too, how cute,” Then, Choso’s turning his head to look at you with this expression you can’t quite read as the next words leave his lips lowly. “Wonder if you’ll ride him the same way you did me.”

“What—“

He scoffs, “Yeah, y’gonna show him all the things you showed me?” He presses even further, taking a step away from preparing those drinks and toward you. Your body seems to not want to listen to you because you remain still and don’t even try to step back. Choso leans in close and angles his head to the side as his eyes remain dead set on yours, “Hm? Are you gonna beg him to fuck you the same way you begged for my cock that night?”

You’re left staring at him all speechless and dumbfounded, no sharp remarks to throw back at him, no attempts at arguing with him, just… nothing. 

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[rafesfavbimbo]

Perfect Where Her Rival Fails.

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Dark!Reader, Rafe Cameron x Sofia’s Bestfriend!Reader

Summary: Rafe thought Sofia would be the one to fix him.. that was until he met her best friend and became so much worse

A/n: Rafe and reader are NOT GOOD PEOPLE! But it was so hot to write. I find Sofia’s “I can fix him” vibe kinda lame. This is kinda long too ngl.. Descriptions of Sofia and Reader are for plot purpose only and to build differences

TW: CHEATING!!! Not on reader, Rafe cheats with reader. SMUT!!! Descriptions of immoral thinking

-

Rafe should feel ashamed. He should feel sick to his stomach. Guilt and despair should be bubbling in his gut at what he’s doing. But it doesn’t, not even a little bit. Not even at all. This is what was meant to happen, and it feels so fucking good.

He’s got her on top, bouncing wildly as she chases her orgasm, beautiful body looking so erotic as it bends and curves enticingly with each of her movements. plump tits bouncing as whines, moans and airy squeak leave her pouty lips that are even more swollen with the harsh makeout session they had earlier. His back is against his bed as sheets weave around them messily. His head pressing into his pillow as he watched her with pure desire.

“Oh fuck! Rafe.. you feel s’good…” she slurs with a drawn out moan from the back of her throat. Switching to grinding her swollen clit against the trimmed-bush on his lower pelvis. A sticky, translucent mess of their mixed arousal inbetween her legs and leaving his cock drowning. “Mhmm… that’s it baby, ridin’ me so good,” groans Rafe from the back of his throat. Deep and low making her clench around him tightly and causing him to hiss from the tight hole suffocating his cock. “Fuck, gonna make me cum s’fucking hard if you keep doing that.” He warns. Bringing his hands that were behind his head, sliding them up to wrap around her back to push her down against him. Pretty tits pressed against his firm chest, skin sticking together from the sweat. He tangles his hand in her messy hair and pushes her pout against his thinner one. Immediately barging his tongue into her mouth and tasting remnants of himself from the messy blow-job she gifted him earlier. “So much better than her, you know that princess?”

Rafe should feel guilty about fucking his girlfriend’s best friend. But he doesn’t, because her knew. from the moment they met he was gonna take her and make her his, girlfriend be damned. Relationship be damned.

-

Sofia was nice. Sweet actually. She was all soft smiles and modest clothes. Sparkling eyes hiding behind wispy bangs. Voice of reason, the angel on his right shoulder. Mousy beauty, enticing in a plain jane way that is nice to admire and look at. She doesn’t stand out but she had caught his eye and he liked it. Different from snooty Kook girls and prettier than typical Pogue girls. She kept him calm, and pushed him to be better. She could change him; that was until he met her though.

Sofia’s best friend was everything she wasn’t. She was sweet as well, don’t get him wrong. But she had a fire in her eyes, a darkness waiting to be unleashed that he couldn’t help but feel would match perfectly with his. The devil on his left shoulder. She was stunning, the kind of stunning that turns heads and captivates. She was all flirty smiles and batting wispy lashes. Skimpy clothes, excessive jewelry and high heels always accessorizing her perfectly. Makeup always accentuating her enticing features.

Rafe still remembers when they met. He’d thrown a grand party, Kooks on every inch of his property buzzed and high. Some crossed and stumbling. An environment of chaos, fun chaos. He was sitting in his ‘VIP’ section with Barry. Doing lines and rolling a fat blunt to be passed between the two. Waiting for Sofia to arrive, remembering his earlier phone call with her. ‘Can I bring my best friend, she just moved in with me and it’ll be her first time on the island.’ To which Rafe replied mumbled a ‘sure, whatever.” The more the merrier right?

Oh and the more the merrier indeed. Because when Rafe laid his eyes on her for the first time he felt like he was starting the beginning of the rest of his life. Like a missing puzzle piece fit in perfectly that he didn’t even know was missing.

“Y/n this is Rafe,” smiles Sofia, putting a name to the beauty standing before him, “Rafe, this is y/n, my best friend,” boasted Sofia with a bashful smile and proud eyes. A manicured hand reaches out to him, “it’s so nice to meet you. Sofia’s always talking about you.” Pretty lips spread, exposing pearly whites and when he looks into her eyes he can see the same lust swirling around them that is most definitely sitting in his. Rafe extends his hand, immediately engulfing hers as their eyes lock and his lips spread in a small side smile with a “likewise.” Holding onto the moment till a soft voice breaks the tension, “y/n do you want anything to drink?”

They both dropped each other’s hands quickly. The tension building between them snuffing out as they turn to Sofia as she looks at them with an unassuming smile. “Oh…yes! sure! What is there?” replies y/n, turning her attention to her best friend and giving Rafe the opportunity to slyly run his gaze down her figure. Taking in the skimpy clothing accentuating it perfectly and pretty pedicured feet in heels. A stark difference to the dress Sofia was wearing that landed right above her knees, the V on the chest only exposing her collar bones. Feet sat in white sneakers. “I’m not sure…Rafe?” Sofia broke his trance, turning to him as he immediately locked eyes with hers. “What happened?” he replies, having not paid attention to anything they were taking about. Way too entranced by the beauty on display in front of him.

“Y/n asked what do you have to drink” said Sofia with a small smile. And it almost made him feel guilty at having checked out his girlfriend’s best friend right in front of her. Almost. “Uh yeah.. anything really. I’m sure I have it, what’s your poison?” he spoke to y/n, giving her a warm smile as he prepared to make a mental note of what she likes. “Vodka.” she replies back, returning his warm smile with one of her own. Rafe goes to reply when a familiar accent chimes in.

“How about I show you where it’s at doll? Give these two lovebirds a chance to be alone.” drawls Barry. Rafe snaps his head toward him, eyes darkening and lips pursing in an unamused scowl. The drug dealer making eye contact with the beauty in front of them, small smirk on his lips as lust swirls around his eyes. Rafe couldn’t blame him but he sure as hell wanted to pop him right in the face. “M’Barry,” he reaches his hand out to her, Rafe’s eyes following her pretty hand slide into Barry’s calloused grip. “I’m a business associate of Rafe’s” he says slyly, “guess you could say we’re friends too.” He finished with a smile, gold tooth glistening.

“Nice to meet you,” y/n replies offering him a small smile. “Um, yeah sure. That sounds good.” she replied to Barry’s earlier question. Shyly glancing once at Rafe, then at Sofia. Barry getting up and taking the hand in his to guide her along with him. Turning his head back to Rafe with a knowing smirk as Sofia takes her position next to Rafe, nuzzling into his side with a pleased smile. It would normally be welcomed by him, thick arm wrapped around her shoulder. But now he does it reluctantly, tips of his ears burning with heat and chest tightening. Jealousy swirling in his stomach, lips pressed into a thin line as his eyes burn holes into the pair walking away. Watching as y/n follows Barry’s lead, head turning back to look over at the couple. Her eyes landing on Sofia who’s nuzzling his cheek and kissing it with soft pecks. He can see them darken as she moves her eyes to his and catches them already on hers. The pair staring into each other before she turns around and lets Barry lead her away. Rafe’s gaze can’t help but fall to her cute butt popping out enticingly from the mini skirt she was wearing. The clack of her heels furthering with each step.

“I think Barry likes her,” giggles Sofia. The statement making his body burn and the hand not wrapped around her shoulder clench. A small hum coming from his mouth and all he’s thinking is that he’ll be damned if he lets Barry sweep away something he’s already planning on making his.

-

After that eventful night. Rafe makes it a point to be around y/n as much as possible. Whether from suggesting he and Sofia ‘stay in’ at her small place with a ‘let’s invite y/n to watch a movie’ or ‘don’t feel like being around Figure 8, mind if I hang here?’ Each and every time, making up one excuse after the other to reside in the habitat where his prey lies in. Waiting for the right moment to pounce and claim his catch.

If he thought style-wise they were different. It’s only confirmed by the undeniable difference in their shared home. Elements placed by both of them in the space contrasting starkly. Sofia’s bedroom was nice. Clean and always well kept. Neutral, earthy tones and the definition of minimalistic. Clothes organized neatly and folded perfectly in her dresser, and hung up in her small closet. A few pairs of shoes lined up neatly under the hanging clothes. Her room smelled like clean laundry and the ocean breeze. Her bed with a basic black duvet and primped white, cotton sheets always fresh. Smelling of her whenever they’re rolling around, tangled together.

Whereas, y/n’s space was the epitome of girly-girl. Clean but an organized clutter of cute trinkets and decorations. Clothes and lingerie on a rack next to her vanity because the small closet couldn’t fit all her clothes. Heels lined up against the wall, white and black leopard print bedding with satin pink sheets, full of fluffy pillows. Her vanity is orgqnized but full of makeup, and products that she rummages through on her day to day. Jewelry sprawled all over her night stand. All things maximalism. Which he was only able to see after sneaking out of Sofia’s bedroom one night while she slept soundly and stalking over to the other beauty’s bedroom to satiate his need to know more about her. Pressing the door open lightly and watching as she sleeps with pouted lips in her array of pillows and satin sheets. The sweet aroma of Vanilla filling his senses. And lulling him to sleep after he gets back into bed with Sofia, dreaming of the girl down the hall.

Even in their shared bathroom, the pink loofah and sparkly decorations contrasting to Sofia’s white loofah and minimal decorating. And sometimes when Rafe is desperate he pops open her expensive Vanilla-scented shampoo and inhales deeply to consume just a piece of her, so different from the fresh-soap smell of Sofia’s. God and don’t get him started on the loungewear.

Sofia preferred comfort and modesty. She had a cute body that hid under baggy sweats, yoga pants, gym shorts and oversized sweaters or shirts. Maybe even some of his shirts here and there. Rafe liked it don’t get him wrong, it’s cute and she feels comfortable. But when he saw y/n’s loungewear, he didn’t know how he could ever accept anything less. Micro sleep shorts in an array of different pinks, black, grey, whites. Low-rise and always risen up, stuck inbetween her cute butt, giving him a good view of those pretty legs and that gorgeous tummy. Tiny tank tops, shirts that exposed her pretty midriff and so tight on the chest he could always see her nipples poking through. Fluffy pink slippers or cute leg-warmers and fluffy socks on her feet. Thought he prefers when she’s barefoot because then he can see her pretty pedicured toes that he imagines pressing kisses onto.

Rafe wasn’t delusional. Well, he was. But not about this, no way. When he’d first started infiltrating their space, making himself a consistent figure he’d made sure he was extra observant and helpful. In guise of being a good boyfriend to Sofia ‘it’s so sweet that you’re being so nice to her, I know she really appreciates it. The move was hard.’ To which Rafe replied with ‘do it all for you baby.’ A bold-faced lie. He does it because he wants to, he wants to know everything about her. Take care of her. He knows that her and Sofia aren’t rolling in dough the way he is. Especially with her struggling to get a job after he made sure to put in a word not to hire her at the country club with Sofia. Coming up with some excuse that she’s got no work ethic; in reality it’s just him not wanting her to work around other men. Or work in general, she’s far too precious for that. He knows she’s a girl who deserves nice things and gestures. A girl he wants to provide for. And he also knows that the more he provides, he can basically Pavlov her. Make her depend on him and keep a smile on that pretty face he wants to press kisses all over.

So it started with simple things. Foods and snacks she likes; asking Sofia what she prefers to nosh on. To which she happily replied giving him a good list, and he made sure to get Sofia something too. Not to raise suspicion. It made his chest warm when they’d have a movie night, another insistent ‘let’s invite y/n.’ Paying more attention to how she happily snacked on the food he provided, giving him thanks and a shy hug. Offering him some every few minutes while he replied with soft, “m’okay, enjoy it. It’s all for you.” Neither her and Sofia realizing how deep that sentiment actually was.

But then it began escalating… they started hanging out more. Sofia giving Rafe a spare key to let himself into their home since he was there so often, and he took full advantage. Letting himself in when he knew Sofia wasn’t there; insisting on inserting himself into y/n’s life and heart. They spent so much time together; getting to know each other. Rafe becoming a consistent figure in her life; making himself her whole world. Slowly but surely infiltrating and separating her away from Sofia as he reeled her closer to him. Even going as far to find solace in her company when he and Sofia fought; not letting her know he began each and every one to slowly but surely push her away. Making sure Sofia was never there as he forced himself into her best friend’s life.

Sofia had picked up more shifts at the Country Club; making her presence more sparse as she noticed distance from her best friend and her boyfriend. Losing herself in work to not think about the dread building in her chest and the suspicions building in her mind. As for Rafe, it was another normal day of pushing himself into y/n’s life and going to her shared home with Sofia. Which has been almost every day of the week when he wasn’t busy doing business with Barry or making time for Sofia as to not raise suspicion. And today he brought breakfast, setting it out on their small kitchen island. One thing on his mind that today was the day. He was in the middle of setting up when he heard soft footsteps padding towards the kitchen from the small hallway.

“Rafe?” questioned a meek voice; gritty with sleep and sounding oh-so precious. He immediately turns around with a warm smile, running his eyes over her scantily clad figure and down to her pretty toes on display. “Good morning,” he said in a slow drawl, taking in the way her thighs clenched together subtly at that. His warm smile slipping into that familiar smirk. “I brought breakfast, thought we could spend some time together and go to the mainland today to show you around.” He continued, keeping his eyes on her as her gaze moved to the food set out on the island. Shuffling over and rubbing the sleep out of her pretty eyes.

“You got all this .. for me?” she spoke softly, gazing up at his towering figure with soft doe-eyes. Lips frowning in a slight pout that he wanted to kiss away. “Mhmm,” he hummed. He raised a strong hand to grip her chin and run the tip of his thumb slightly over the bottom of her lower lip. Moving his gaze from her eyes to her lips, back to her eyes, “just for you,” he whispered lowly. Watching as she kept staring into his eyes and leaning her body into him slowly. He very much liked that, giving her chin a quick pinch before he pulled away. Turning to grab a glass of orange juice and setting it down in front of the plate he set out for her. Watching as she moved to sit in front of it; eyes dashing between the arranged food. “Eat whatever you want, need that tummy full for today.” He spread his hands on the island, holding his body up as he leaned over and watched as she began adding pieces of her desired choice of food all over the plate. A satisfied hum coming from her as her eyes closed at the taste.

“What do you mean we’re going to the mainland? Why? Without Sofia too?” she questioned after she finished chewing; taking a sip of the orange juice he set out for her while keeping eye contact. “Thought I could show you around, I had nothing to do today and thought it would be nice to take you out so you’re not cooped up in here all day while Sofia’s working.” He said with his usual charm; popping a grape into his mouth and biting into it with a harsh crunch. Watching as she nodded her head in understanding. “After you eat, go get ready and put on something pretty. It’ll be hot today so be sure to dress for it. But make sure it’s something nice, taking you out for a nice lunch.” He continued. Praying she put on one of those cute, short sundresses or mini skirts she’s so known for wearing. He continued to munch on small pieces of fruit while she finished her breakfast. Taking her plate when she finished and giving her a dismissive wave; signaling to her to begin getting ready.

He watched as she happily skipped away, his eyes lowering to her cute butt as if jiggled with her movements. He wanted nothing more than to bite into it; too caught up in his dirty thoughts when he heard a, “can I wear heels?” He immediately popped his eyes back to her face, which is turned around to look at him. Back still facing him. “If they’re comfortable enough, absolutely.” He smiled, watching as she nodded with a smile and continued back to her room as Rafe finished cleaning up and sat onto the small couch. Head leaning back onto it and staring onto the ceiling with a devious grin of all the things he planned to do today. Dozing off slightly as he waited for her to get ready.

“Rafe,” a slight nudge to his shoulder. “Raaaaafe,” drawled out the prettiest voice; a soft hand coming to cup his cheek lightly and caress it as that sweet voice whispered another soft “wake up Rafe, m’ready to go.” She said delicately with excitement in her voice. Rafe’s eyes opening up from dreamland to look at the absolute goddess in front of him. Quickly rubbing the sleep from his eyes as she stepped back in front of him. When his vision came back into focus he couldn’t help but run his gaze over her figure. His heart beating in his chest and his pants feeling tighter by the second as her took in the little number on her gorgeous body. Down to the heels on her feet showing off those pretty toes. Her hair done up a a messy up-do with wisp framing her face perfectly. Makeup dewy and fresh, making her look so ethereal and pretty lips slathered in a gloss he wants to kiss away. Silver hoops sitting in her pretty ears.

“You like it?” she asked, giving him twirl. The expanse of her pretty back showing. The sheen material giving him a view of the pink thong nestled inbetween the cute butt he’s been dreaming of marking with his teeth. Watching as her front view came into view, his eyes immediately drawn to the low V and the way her pretty tits looked so erotic hidden between a thin layer of sheen material. Her nipples poking through and her cleavage sitting so nicely.

He let out a low, soft whistle; his gaze which was leaving no inch of her body undiscovered looks back up to her beautiful face. Her eyes already on him through wispy lashes that made them looks so flirty and alluring. An amused smile on her face as he stated, “you look like you should be on the cover of a magazine. Beautiful. You look beautiful. You are so beautiful.” With full sincerity, his eyes holding onto hers to convey all the emotions and want he’s been holding back. He rose up slightly, hand holding out for hers as she placed hers into his. His large grip immediately engulfing her pretty hand as he began dragging her to the front door. “We’re gonna have a ball, believe that.” He looked back at her with a smirk; her head tilting back to meet his gaze and a small giggle falling from her lips as she let him lead her away.

-

Rafe doesn’t think he’s ever wanted someone so badly in his life, not even Sofia. After they left the girls’ small house, taking his truck to which he boldly put his hand on her thigh while she sat in his passenger seat; feeling it tense. Testing the waters and feeling satisfied as she relaxed into his touch; thighs slightly spreading to which he gave a small squeeze in approval. His hand caressing her smooth skin the whole way to there. He his head to the side to look at her through his peripheral vision to see her looking out the window, biting those pretty lips and closing her eyes when he would dare to raise his hand a bit higher. Bringing it back to its original spot in a way to tease her every-time, having expected her to push him away. Tell him he’s crossing a boundary, but she never did. Not even when her helped her off the truck, his hand pulling her into his side with it running down her smooth back to sit right above her butt. Not even when he stood behind her on the ferry; his body pressed into hers and arms spread out onto the railing to cage her in as she watched the water with a lip bite and excitement in her eyes. Leaning her head back a bit to expose her neck to him, his immediate response to ghost his lips up her neck and take in her Vanilla scent that’s been driving him crazy. Wanting to lick her smooth skin but refraining, just hovering his face over where he wants to mark her up.

They spent the whole day wrapped up in each other. Rafe had planned on taking her shopping, wanting to spoil her then quickly realizing he didn’t have his truck to hold the influx of items he’s sure she would love to have. Settling for taking her to a jewelry shop, buying her an 18k white gold-diamond necklace that had her eyes widening and a smile spreading on her pretty face. Words of “no Rafe I couldn’t it’s too much,” to, “what about Sofia, wouldn’t you want to get this for her?” Which he quickly shut down with a firm, “Sofia isn’t the kind of girl you buy such pretty, expensive things for, beautiful. You know this isn’t her thing.” His words having two meanings. Watching as she bit her lip in consideration at them, knowing how non-flashy her best friend was and how intimate this gesture was. Ultimately accepting the expensive gift he paid a pretty penny for and letting him clip it onto her neck with a “only girls like you deserve such nice things.” Admiring how it glistened beautifully against her flawless skin-tone. Hoping by tonight that it’s all she’s got on besides the heels on her pretty feet.

After that he took her to his promised lunch, watching as she admired herself in any reflection they walked past to see the diamonds glistening against her. Giddy with happiness and wondering how she could re-pay his kindness. Envy building in her stomach that someone as non-materialistic and plain as her best friend ended up with such a pretty boyfriend whose pockets were loaded. They both sat and chatted over expensive lobster and glasses of Dom Périgon; him feeding her pieces of her food and watching as her lips wrapped around the fork. Praying that he would get to feel them wrapped around his solid cock. His restraint for her slowly dwindling the more they got drunk off champagne.

And fuck -was he glad he splurged on good drinking. Watching as she became more loose, more touchy. Pretty eyes hazing over from the bubbly running through her. Those wispy lashes batting at him as she bit her lip; eyeing him with pure lust. It’s when he felt her right foot begin to slide up the inner-side of his right leg did he know; he had her. Leaning back in his chair slightly and widening his legs to give her more access. The two staring into each other eye’s, lust and intense want swirling around as she slid her foot higher. Eventually reaching his thigh and then the prominent bulge in his dark grey slacks. Rafe clenching his fist and huffing from his nostrils when she begin pressing her toes into it sensually. Massaging him with them as she bit her lip seductively and kept eye contact. Rafe let her tease him till he couldn’t handle it anymore. Getting up from his chair abruptly and tossing down a few hundred dollar bills onto the table before grabbing her by her upper arm. Giving her a chance to put her heel back onto her foot before dragging her out of the restaurant and pinning her against the wall of the alley right next to it. Breathing deeply and watching as she stared into his eyes with that doe-eyed expression that makes him want to ruin her. Pressing his body against hers, his hands spread out on both sides of her head and pushing his face till they were mere inches apart. Their breaths mingling as their breathing became harsher, the restraint between both of them breaking as their need for each other began to win.

“You’ve been driving me crazy. From the moment I saw you; I knew I needed you.” Rafe said lowly, his voice thick with desire as he broke the silence. Watching as she pondered his words, then continuing, “I’m gonna take you home, back to Tannyhill.” He whispered lowly, pushing his head closer to her and brushing his lips against hers as he spoke of everything he planned to do. “M’gonna slip this sexy little dress off and leave you in nothing but those sexy heels and that necklace I bought you.” He drawled, feeling her press closer into him. Her hands that were pressed by her side now sliding up his lower back and up to his shoulders as she held onto him; listening to his every word. “Then m’gonna take what I’ve been waiting too all damn day. Ever since I met you actually. I’m marking my claim on you tonight, and you’re gonna let me because I know you want me as bad as I want you. Know you need me baby, because I need you too.” With that he pressed his lips onto hers. The pair making out harshly with moans and whines falling from her pretty lips into his mouth; harsh groans and breathes falling from his into hers. Their teeth clacking and tongues fighting for dominance as they consumed each other. Any thought of how this might hurt Sofia quickly slipping from their minds. It felt right, right in a way that he didn’t feel with Sofia. Right in a way that she knew any friendship with Sofia wasn’t worth the feelings he gave her.

The pair made out harshly, hands running all over each other as they took each other in. Weeks of tension build up, exploding passionately between them. The sun casting an orange haze over the environment as it slowly went down. Her makeup now ruined and pouty lips swollen. Rafe’s right hand snaking into her pretty up-do and gripping her hair, tugging harshly to expose her neck. Pressing kisses and marking her as she spoke a soft inquiring, “What about Sofia?” Making Rafe’s incessant kissing come to a halt, his head lifting away from her neck as he moved his left hand to cup her cheek; not bothering to remove the hand tangled in her messed up hair. His eyes caught her own, watching as guilt built up in them. Ready to reassure and squash away those feelings because no way was he gonna let Sofia get in between them now. Not anymore than she already has.

“Don’t worry about her,” he said slowly. Watching as she opened her lips to retaliate and immediately shushing her. “Hey -no. Listen..” he continued, rubbing his thumb soothingly on her cheek. “What she means to me is nothing compared to the feelings I’ve developed for you. I need you y/n; it’s driving me insane. I know deep inside me that this feeling I have for you isn’t anything simple.” He spoke seriously, spilling his thoughts to her. Her eyes tearing with emotion as he continued, “and I won’t try to figure it out or stop it. Some things are meant to happen; we’re one of those things. You and me. What we can have together is way too good to give it up for a girl I know I don’t want a future with, but you? We can build a life together. I want to build a life with you. You deserve to be taken care of, provided for. Treated and loved like the goddamn goddess you are. And I wanna give all of that to you baby, wanna give you everything. All of me; I wanna be yours. It’s been weeks of holding myself back to finally make this moment happen and I’m not gonna let anyone ruin it. Especially not her.” he spoke. Soft tears running down her smooth cheeks that he kissed away; cradling her to him. “It’s me and you baby; no one else. Not even Sofia.” He finished, watching the hesitation and guilt wash away in her eyes as she submitted herself to him. Removing her arms from being wrapped up his back to wrap them around his neck. Pushing her lips onto his and kissing him passionately as Rafe immediately welcomed it. Wrapping his arms around her and pressing her body tightly against his.

“Take me home Rafe,” she whispered when she pulled back. “Take me home and make me yours, wanna be all yours too.” She said against his lips, causing him to groan deeply and recapture her lips with his passionately before pulling her away. Scooping her in his arms and dragging her to the ferry bridal style as she giggled and kicked her legs in excitement. The two knowing this was the beginning of a passionate, twisted love story. Sofia be damned.

-

When they made it back to Tannyhill, it’s like a veil lifted over them. Encasing them in their own little world of passion and burning desire. Giggling into each other’s mouths as her heels clacked against the floors of Tannyhill, Rafe consuming her. He took the sheen material sitting over her left shoulder and slipped it off; watching as it fell off her shoulder erotically. The smooth skin of her shoulder, arm and now her left breast being exposed to his eyes without a layer in between. He immediately swiped the right sleeve, the flowy material sliding off with ease. The entire dress dropping as she was left standing in her matching pink thong that came with the dress. Plump tits and gorgeous body on full display for his eyes only. The faux-diamonds on her heels glistening and the real diamonds on her neck shining even brighter. Her flawless skin-tone glowing from the lotion she slathered all over it while getting ready and sparkling from the body glitter she applied to add to her appeal.

Rafe’s gaze ran over the entirety of her body. His eyes full of burning want and need for her. Wanting to ravage and defile her; looking at her with the same hunger a predator looks at its prey. He was gonna make sure she never wanted anyone other than him. He was gonna make sure she belonged to him in her entirety from body to heart and soul. He was gonna make her the queen of his mansion and Kildare. Ruling alongside him in a way Sofia never could. A placeholder and stepping stone for him to find the one he truly wanted. He almost felt bad about Sofia’s role in this situation; feeling like he only met her to be able to meet the love of his life. But his desire for the beauty standing in from of him squashed any feelings that weren’t the ones he had for her.

Rafe immediately grabbed her, throwing her over his shoulder as her shocked gasp turned into realizing giggles. Stomping his way upstairs and smacking her butt; turning his head to bite into it making her squeal as he smirked in satisfaction. Finally reaching his room -their room. Shoving the door open and walking to his bed, tossing her on it roughly as she bounced with delirious girly giggles. Immediately spreading her legs and bringing her pretty manicured hands to massage her beautiful tits. Her eyes full of want and need as she watched him hastily pull his clothing off his body. His belt buckle hitting the floor with a thunk as he pulled every last piece of clothing off.

Once Rafe was fully bare, his hard cock up-right and bobbing with his movements as he moved onto the bed on his knees. Slotting himself between her open legs, his big hands on both sides of her head and pressing his body to hers till they were skin to skin. Her tits pressed tightly to his chest; feeling as she began to whine her hips under him after feeling his hard cock rest itself on her covered pussy. Her hands immediately ran up the huge expanse of his back; feeling his smooth skin under her them as he kissed her roughly. Dominating her mouth immediately, strings of spit exchanging between their messy movements. Rafe beginning to grind his hips to match the rhythm of hers. His cock rubbing on her thong-covered pussy as they made out.

“Needed this so bad. Needed you,” he pressed another fervid kiss to her swollen lips covered in their shared spit. Rafe leaned his weight onto his left hand next to her head, pushing his upper body up as his knees bent to stabilize himself. Her thighs draped over his as he spread them wide with his position. Right hand reaching in between them and moving her soaked through thong to the side. Exposing her perfect cunt to him as he groaned deep in his chest at the sight. “So fucking wet for me huh, princess?” He inquired, clearly already knowing the answer. Rubbing his fingers through the silky folds of perfect pussy. Her legs immediately spreading wider as she whispered, “have been since the moment I met you.” Admitting that she’s needed him just as badly he needed her. Her words sexual but the emotion in her eyes sentimental.

Rafe smiled warmly at her, his eyes portraying the same emotion as he leaned down to get her a quick peck. Using his right hand to bring his leaking tip to her entrance dripping with her arousal. Sliding his tip against her hole before he slid it up to her clit, circling the swollen bud a couple times before guiding his tip back to her entrance. He popped it in, an airy gasp falling from her lips as a deep moan fell from his. He pushed slowly, breaking her cunt in around his thick cock, her legs beginning to tremble. Rafe pushed in till he was he was kissing her cervix, pressing soothing kisses all over her face as she whimpered and whine at the stretch. His big body pinning hers to the bed; chest pressed together while his thighs spread hers open. He brought his right hand back next to her head, beginning to grind slowly to get her use to the feeling of him breaking her open. Ruining her for everyone else but him.

“Mhmmm… s’fucking tight baby fuuuuck,” he emphasized the last word with a drawn out groan. Pushing his head into her neck that was exposed to him as she turned her head to the side to whimper about his deep grinding. Pressing kisses all over it and licking up her neck before sinking his teeth in harshly. Grinning into her skin when she cried out, hips beginning to match the rhythm of his as he stretched her to the brim. Rafe marking her neck with love bites as a declaration of his ownership over her. He brought his lips to her left ear, licking her lobe before giving it a light bite and then whispering, “can’t fucking wait anymore, m’taking what I fucking want, alright?” Beginning to snap his hips into her at a brutalizing pace. Her whimpers quickly turning into loud whines and cries, tears building up her in her pretty eyes and ruining her makeup.

“Yeah…that’s it,” Rafe groaned deeply before continuing, “cry for me baby, get use to the rest of your life. M’gonna fuck this sloppy little hole till my dick is imprinted into you.” He finished, grabbing her arms that were now flailing around to grasp onto something from his harsh pounding. Holding her wrist in his large left hand, using it as leverage to pound into her harder. A wicked smile on his face as he took what he wanted. “Never gonna leave you alone, keeping you next to me for the rest of my damn life. Fuck Sofia, this is the shit I’ve been waiting for right here -ah fuck!” He spoke harshly, voice gritty with desire and affected by his efforts at destroying her for any other man besides him. He meant it when he said he was going to fuck his print into her. “It’s me and you baby, remember that.” He reminded her, “just me n’you.”

-

They’d been going at it for hours; taking each other apart in the most primal way. Rafe fucked her stupid till she passed out. Her heels long gone and thong ripped as he bent her into every position impossible; stretching her open and abusing her sopping hole with his fingers, tongue and cock. Whispering phrases of “that’s my good little cumslut. Doesn’t even care that she’s fucking over her best friend. As long as she gets daddy’s dick breaking her open, huh?” He spoke menacingly, his thick bicep wrapped around her neck as he pounded into her from behind. Face buried in her hair as she dug her manicured nails into his forearm. Her left arm bent back and held against her lower back with rafe’s left hand. Choked gasp of “yes daddy” and “just for you” falling from her swollen pout. Leaving Rafe satisfied as he replied a hushed “that’s right baby, ain’t gotta worry bout a damn thing aside from taking this dick.” Or “Got the sheets fucking soaked, maybe I should fuck Sofia one last time and press her face into the mattress so she can taste what real top-tier pussy tastes like.” His back against the pillows, her back pressed to his firm chest. Large hands hooked under her thighs and spreading her out while he bucked up with non-stop harsh strokes into her already filled and leaking pussy. Their mixed arousal dripping all over his balls as she had her arms laid next to his head; letting him take whatever he wanted. Crying out “no! mine!” when he dared even teased her with the thought of fucking Sofia again after this. Making Rafe chuckle as he spoke out a “that’s right baby, m’all yours. Just yours.”

After so many hours of fucking her stupid, she passed out immediately after the last round. Rafe holding her shaking body to his, her face pressed into his neck. His right arm under her head as his left caressed her hair; keeping her safe in dreamland while they lay on their sides. Kissing her hair every so often the hour she was passed out. He was about ready to get up and go to the restroom; attempting to slowly remove her right arm wrapped around his waist when he heard her whine. Her eyes blinking open, wispy lashes clumped together from the tears of passion he caused. “Don’t leave me,” she pouted, regaining strength to pull him back into her. The action causing a warm feeling to spread through his body like wildfire. He adored that she wanted him just as bad.

“Gotta clean you up m’love.” He whispered against her lips after pressing a soft kiss to them to soothe her. Watching her look at him with sleepy eyes; lust beginning to swirl in them again. “Nuh-uh,” she replied, pressing her right hand to his chest to press him into the mattress flat on his back. Straddling his body immediately, her hands on both sides of his head as she bent down to give him a kiss. Her leaking pussy settled over his cock, pressing down against it. Rafe immediately relaxing into the mattress and shuffling slightly to get into a more comfortable position in middle of the bed. When they pulled back he brought his right hand to cup her left cheek, running his thumb over it soothingly as they held the silence, staring into each other’s eyes. “What do you want, hm?” He questioned, though he already knew the answer. “If you want something, take it. I know I did.” Smiling as he watched her lift herself up on her knees slightly, hand reaching between them. She gripped his already hard cock in her soft hand, teasing his tip against her clit making them both lightly moan. She didn’t do it for too long, already way too built up after weeks of tension between them. Needing him again even after the hours of sex he put her through already. She brought him to her soaked entrance, popping his tip in as she watched his face. His brows furrowed and bottom lip between his teeth as he watched her cute cunt swallow him.

Rafe immediately put his hands on her hips and positions his legs. Ready to immediately begin giving it to her and giving her a couple harsh thrust before her dainty hands smacked onto his chest and pushed him back into the sheets, shaking her head side to side to say no. Rafe’s brows furrowed with confusion his lips opening to say something before she interrupted his questioning with, “wanna take care of you daddy. Wanna be good for you.” Rafe’s body immediately relaxing as a satisfied smirk spread across his face. “Yeah? Well alright,” he smacked her left ass cheek with his right hand; then removing both his hands from her hips and laying them crossed behind his head. Ready to let her do all the work. “Get to it princess; daddy’s got a fat load waiting for you.”

Her hips began grinding back and forth, rubbing her overstimulated clit across the trimmed hairs at the base of his cock. Hands pressed into his chest and whines falling from her lips as she worked herself into it. Rafe biting his lip while darting his eyes between her body grinding against him and to her pretty face contorting in pleasure. When she finally felt ready she removed her hands from his chest; reaching her hands behind her to stabilize herself on his strong thighs. Wet plops of their arousal and skin smacking as she began bouncing herself up and down. Working herself on his dick as she cried out his name; Rafe entranced by the goddess on top of him. He didn’t know where to look, from his dick breaking in her pussy to her beautiful body moving sensually to that gorgeous face with messy makeup and swollen lips. He clenched his eyes from the overwhelming pleasure and feelings running through him; head turning to the left as she leaned down to start kissing and sucking marks into him the way he did her. When he opens his hazy eyes just a bit that’s when he sees it …

A picture of him and Sofia on his nightstand. Her face smiling brightly as she looked so happy. Half his face hidden in her hair as he gave a soft smile to the camera. A moment in time at the beginning of their relationship when Rafe felt like he could actually see himself building something long term; feeling that Sofia could fix him. A feeling that was now long gone. Rafe should feel ashamed; he should feel sick to his stomach. Guilt and despair should be bubbling in his gut at what he’s doing. But it doesn’t, not even a little bit. Not even at all. This is what was meant to happen, and it feels so fucking good. He turns back to the one he truly wants and doesn’t regret his actions in the slightest. This was his woman.

He’s got her on top, bouncing wildly as she chases her orgasm, beautiful body looking so erotic as it bends and curves enticingly with each of her movements. plump tits bouncing as whines, moans and airy squeak leave her pouty lips that are even more swollen with the harsh makeout session they had earlier. His back is against his bed as sheets weave around them messily. His head pressing into his pillow as he watched her with pure desire. Sex was never this good with Sofia, she wasn’t wild. Wasn’t adventurous, as plain in bed as she was outside. She never made his body burn ablaze or his nerves go haywire. She never consumed his heart, body and soul the way the girl on top of him does. Even with Sofia he felt something incomplete inside him. He didn’t know what he was missing to be found it. Till he found her …

“Oh fuck! Rafe.. you feel s’good…” she slurs with a drawn out moan from the back of her throat. Switching to grinding her swollen clit against the trimmed-bush on his lower pelvis again. The overwhelming feeling of his tip hitting her cervix becoming too much. A sticky, translucent mess of their mixed arousal inbetween her legs and leaving his cock drowning. He’d hurt Sofia again and again if it meant having this sight in front of him and these feelings running through him all the time.

“Mhmm… that’s it baby, ridin’ me so good,” groans Rafe from the back of his throat. Deep and low making her clench around him tightly and causing him to hiss from the tight hole suffocating his cock. “Fuck, gonna make me cum s’fucking hard if you keep doing that.” He warns. Bringing his hands that were behind his head, sliding them up to wrap around her back to push her down against him. Pretty tits pressed against his firm chest, skin sticking together from the sweat. He tangles his hand in her messy hair and pushes her pout against his thinner one. Immediately barging his tongue into her mouth and tasting remnants of himself from the messy blow-job she gifted him earlier. “So much better than her, you know that princess?”

Rafe should feel guilty about fucking his girlfriend’s best friend. But he doesn’t, because her knew. From the moment they met he was gonna take her and make her his, girlfriend be damned. Relationship be damned. Sofia would be okay, eventually. But he wouldn’t if couldn’t have his girl, he’d rather crush Sofia’s soul then let anything get inbetween them. Any softness he felt for her fading away quickly at the thought of her becoming an obstacle between them.

“Dadddyyy,” she whined into his mouth when his hips began bucking up. He took over control, his need to reassert dominance overtaking him. He was gonna make sure she would never leave him. She was stuck here with him and he was going to ensure it in anyway possible. Little ‘uh uh uh uh’s’ falling from her as he pounded up into her; his legs tense with stabilizing his movements. His right hand came to the back of her head to keep her lips pressed to his. Hips jackhammering into her as she took everything he gave her. Her arms beginning to flail around again to stabilize herself until he grabbed them in his left hand and pinned them to her back with her wrist in his large hand. He pulled his lips back, a string of spit connecting his to hers as she whined and tried to reconnect them. Rafe shook his head and nudged her nose with his as he spoke against her mouth. “Take it m’love, daddy needs you to take it. Need you to know you’re never gonna leave me. We’re in this together. You n’me.” Watching as her eyes looked into his with full sincerity as she nodded and choked out “you n’me. Don’t wanna leave you daddy. Never.” With that Rafe pressed his hips up on more time, groaning out her name repeatedly. His cock all the way inside her and tip kissing her cervix as ropes of cum dribbled out and filled her up for the what feels like the millionth time that night. His orgasm triggering her own as her legs shook in their straddling position; crying out into his mouth as she squirted around him again.

Rafe fell back into the mattress, her collapsing on top of him as they both were breathing harshly to catch their breathes. Rafe’s right hand came up to rub her back soothingly as she came down from the high he gave her; soft little cries leaving her that turned into almost inaudible whimpers. The two so wrapped in each other and the aftermath of their love-making that they didn’t even hear the harsh steps stomping up the stairs to Rafe’s bedroom.

When they’d gone out on their date, Rafe put his phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’ and ensured she did too. Not wanting any interruptions for their day together. And ever since then it hasn’t come off, the pair never realizing that Sofia was blowing up their phones with incessant text and calls. Questions of where they were, if they were together. Until she couldn’t handle it anymore and drove straight to Rafe’s in the middle of the night; praying the gut feeling she’s had for weeks wasn’t going to be confirmed tonight. Oh how she wishes she was wrong. She’d known for weeks, a gut feeling stabbing in her for so long. She’d been suspicious when Rafe had become so kind, tender to her best friend. Chalking it up to him wanting to make Sofia happy by being so welcoming and be a good boyfriend. When he started coming over everyday she was a little surprised, he usually called her over to Tannyhill. She knew he wasn’t a fan of the cut. When he began insisting on staying in for dates, always asking for y/n to intrude on them. It bothered her but she didn’t say anything, too worried about Rafe’s softness sizzling out and making her best friend feel bad. She was even hesitant to give him a key but did it anyway because she convinced herself she was being paranoid. ‘He’s finally man’ing up,’ she’d told herself. Only not knowing it wasn’t for her but her best friend.

She knew when Rafe became cold, distant. Starting fights over anything and everything; never wanting to talk it out and just leaving her wallowing in her own sadness. She knew when her best friend started acting the same, cold. Her distance deepening by the day. And when she came home one day to find them laughing together and eyes sparkling at each other, not even noticing she walked in. The two chatting away on the couch. It pushed her to pick up more work, needing to numb the nagging feeling and ignore the suspicions growing in her mind. But she knew, a woman always knows. And she most definitely knew when she walked straight into Rafe’s house. The scrape of pink fabric laying at the bottom of the staircase, one she knew belonged to her best friend. Sofia knew yet she needed to see it, needed to finally know that she wasn’t feeling crazy. But nothing could have prepared her for shattering of her heart as she slammed Rafe’s bedroom door open. Two people she loved so much, wrapped around each other as they pressed soft kisses to each other’s lips. In their own world till she screamed out an “I knew it!” and only then did their veil lift.

Y/n and Rafe turned to look at Sofia standing at the entrance of the bedroom, tears running down her cheeks. Rafe was quick to act, turning his body along with y/n’s to shield her. His back turning to Sofia as y/n fell to the other side; her right leg wrapped around his waist as she looked at her best friend over Rafe’s shoulder. A scowl now etched on his face as he looked back at Sofia through a side eye, “yo! what the fuck is your problem?!” He fumed, as if Sofia was a stranger intruding on their intimate moment. As if she was never his girlfriend, as if she was never anything to him. Sofia’s teary eyes darted between Rafe’s scowling face, to her best friend. Oh her best friend, someone she’d know for so many years. Someone who was practically a sister to her, someone she let into her home and around her boyfriend. She trusted her. “How could you?” she spoke to y/n, the pain in her chest almost debilitating. “How-how could you?! I trusted you! I let you into my home! I let you around my boyfriend and this is how you repay me! BY FUCKING MY BOYFRIEND!” She screamed, overwhelming feelings of anger and despair radiating off of her. “You’re a fucking slut! A whore!,” she stepped forward more into the room ignoring the ‘hey!’ from Rafe as she continued, “I should have known. You always begged for attention, just look at the way you dress. You’re a stupid attention seeking whore!” She raged at her best friend whose eyes full of guilt now turned into equal rage.

Rafe went to open his mouth and defend his woman when y/n spoke up first, “save me the fucking pity party Sofia! You’re just a sad case of another girl getting way to ahead of herself because a cute guy finally gave her attention,” she retaliated. Sitting up now, not caring about her state of undress or the cum leaking down her thighs as she pushed herself up to her knees on the bed. Finger pointing at Sofia as Rafe’s eyes darted between the two girls. “You’ve always made me feel bad! Like i’m someone who needs to be fixed and is full of faults. Always telling me where I went wrong or what I’m not doing good enough. You act so high and fucking mighty all the time like you aren’t trying to compensate for your own inadequacies!” She yelled, rage flowing through her and continuing when Sofia went to open her mouth, “I’m sick of the patronization hidden behind care. I’m sick of you making me feel bad for who I am,” y/n stepped over Rafe’s legs to stand on the floor and face her ex-best friend. Stalking toward her, “you’re always trying to fix people to make up for your lack of personality. Like everyone is in the wrong for being themselves just bc you’re too pathetic to know who you are. I’m done letting you do it to me. And I won’t let you do it to him,” she screamed pointing at Rafe who was on his back and holding himself up on his forearms as he watched the two ex-friends at each other’s throat. Turned on and feeling satisfied that the kitty claws he’s been working so hard to expose are finally out. A sick smirk on his face as he stared at Sofia. “For months, you complained about him to me before I came here. How he was ‘unhinged’ and how you could help him. Make him better. And it wasn’t until I met him that I realized how wrong you were! Maybe he’s not perfect, maybe he’s rough and mean and fucked up! But that’s what makes him, him! And i love it! For the first time in my life I don’t feel like I need to put on an act, like I need to be perfect. He loves me for who I am not what he feels he can make into and I feel the same about him. So maybe we’re fucked up! But at least we’re not a miserable cunt who’s hellbent on fixing people because she can’t fix herself.” Finished y/n, her arms crossed against her bare tits as she stared Sofia down whose tears were running down her cheeks, face red with emotion and chest heaving. To add to insult Rafe let out a low whistle at y/n’s words and a small chuckle with an “ouch.” Watching as Sofia’s eyes left her staring contest with her best friend to him, not making any effort to move from her spot.

“You can leave Sofia, we don’t want you here. Ever.” taunted y/n, turning on her heels to walk back to bed and climbing in it while Rafe shuffled over to the other-side. Right arm widening to encase her with it as his left forearm held him up. Immediately wrapping his arm around y/n as she got near, the two smashing their lips together with a passionate kiss to add salt to the wound. Not letting up until they heard footsteps stomping out of the room and down the hallway. Rafe pulling back with that sick smirk on his face as he yelled out for Sofia to hear “don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” Both of them turned to the doorway and listening as they heard her sobs deepening and steps become quicker. The glass door slamming shut and letting them know she’d left.

They turned to face each other with wicked smiles as they smashed their lips together, Rafe using the arm wrapped around her to push her body onto the mattress and press himself flush to her. “That was so fucking sexy, you mean it? You love me? Flaws and all?” he smiled into her lips, chest feeling warm with love as she giggled and nodded. Kissing him again before saying, “as long as you love mine.” Eyes staring into his for confirmation that he quickly gave her, “baby Imma love all of you for as long as you let me. I don’t want some faux-perfect bitch, I want my girl who’s freak matches mine.” Capturing her lips again and ready to go for another round. Grinding against her till she pulled back with worry in her eyes, “wait! what about my stuff she’s gonna wreck it!” y/n whined and kicked her leg into the mattress.

“Don’t worry about it princess, I’ll replace it all and more.” He chucked and went to recapture her lips when she pushed against chest that slipped inbetween them, crying out a, “but Rafey some of that stuff is vintage! Irreplaceable!” Whining and pouting her lips as Rafe rolled his eyes playfully and grabbed both her hands in his large one, pinning them to the bed as he dominated her once more.

“Shuddup and let me love you. Such a brat. You’re lucky I love you so damn much.”

A/N: Damn I almost feel bad for Sofia ngl. The way i described Sofia was just for plot purposes! I just feel like Rafe needs a bougie baddie idk! and I really think Sofia is boring!

[xoxosimp]

On Your Wrist

Synopsis: You and Bucky are in the early stages of your relationship, and he has some trouble getting the perfect gift for you.

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: soft mob bucky is a warning, mention of sex, Bucky’s petname for reader is “light”, mediocre writing 

A/N: This was supposed to be a drabble LMAO but my brain said nawp. This is HEAVILY inspired by Young Sheldon and the song “ Loveeeeeee song” by Rihanna 

~~~~

Love was a phenomenon that didn't come easy for Bucky Barnes to understand. 

He didn't understand why he was so wrapped up in all things you. The way you laughed, your sweet smile, how you managed to hypnotize him with just a look in your pretty eyes; if he could drown in you, he would. 

Bucky’s world was nothing but materialistic. The more dirty money he made , the more cars, watches, and houses he grew to love. The women he used to spend his time with loved all of those things, too. But no dollar amount could begin to describe the love James Buchanan Barnes has for you. 

It was almost silly how fast Bucky fell in love with you. He found himself doing things he would have never done before falling in love with you. He would make breakfast for you even though he has a private chef. The benefit of being the head of a criminal organization was people waited for him. So there was no meeting he couldn't postpone, all if it meant Bucky could spend more time with you. 

You were his light in his dark world. Before being with you, his purpose was to lead. To kill. You gavee his life meaning he’d never thought he would experience. If you were an angel, he was the devil that would bow to you and repent.

Diamonds and gold were no stranger to Bucky, but the six-figure tennis bracelet he had in his pocket made his hands damp with sweat. You and Bucky were still early in your relationship where he wanted to impress you. And diamonds are very impressive.

He was leaning against his Maserati, waiting for you to get off work so he could take you to dinner, for no other reason than it was Tuesday and he loved you (not that he’s told you yet).

Love was a phenomenon that stopped time whenever you looked at Bucky. It was a look of love and adoration, that nothing else existed except for you and him. It was a look that was shared between soulmates. 

You say goodbye to your coworker and greet Bucky with a hug. He tilted your chin so you could kiss him. If it was Bucky’s choice, he’d have your lips on his all fucking day. You pulled away and smiled at him. “ How was your day, Jamie?”

“ Better now that I’m with you, light”. 

You wrapped your hands around his waist. “ Where are we going for dinner?”

“I was thinking May’s?” he suggested.

“ Oh thank gosh,” you sighed, “ I have been craving fries all day.”

He chuckled and led to the passenger side to open the door for you. “ I have something for you first, light.”

“ Is it chocolate?” You wiggled your eyebrows. 

Bucky took the box from his pocket and gave it to you. Your face lighted up but dims. He can't distinguish the look on your face, whether it’s unhappiness or anger, the smile you wore doesn't quite reach your eyes.

“It’s-It’s beautiful Bucky,” you managed to stutter out. 

He raised an eyebrow to communicate a “But?. “It’s too much.”

Bucky was a little taken aback. The women he used to surround himself with would have taken it without hesitation. Some would say it was not enough. “ Nothing is too much for you,light,” he said firmly.

“ I could never give you something to equate to-to this-”

“ And you don't have to,” he interrupted softly, “ I wanted to get something for you, so I did,” he shrugged. 

He saw you gulp and close the box. “ You got something for me that costs more than a house,” you said. 

“That’s not the only reason you’re rejecting my gift, light,” he stated matter of factly.

“It’s not my style,” you mumbled. “ Are you mad?”

Bucky cupped your cheek and you leaned into his warmth, “ Well I’m not ecstatic that you rejected my gift, but I’m glad you feel safe enough to tell me .”

“But if you say I can't take you out for dinner, then I’ll be really sad, doll.” That pulled a chuckle out of you.

Bucky opened the car door for you to sit. “ I’d hate to see you sad, Jamie,” you stated. 

“It’s too much,” your words replayed in the back of Bucky’s mind.

As much as he’d love to hear those words spilling from your lips when he’s fucking you deep into his mattress, this was a sign he needed to hold back a little. As much as he wanted to impress you, he didn't want to scare you off. 

I can tone it back, Bucky said to himself.

~~~~~

After coming back from a work meeting, you found a box with your name on it. The only logical answer is that it’s from Bucky. Any secret admirers you could have had were too afraid of Bucky Barnes to profess their love.

You sighed as you opened the box, waiting for a more expensive gift than the last one. If he was bothered by your rejection, he didn't show it. Dinner with him was as lovely as it always was.

You weren't insecure that your boyfriend made more money than you, because as cliche as it was, it’s the thought that counts. 

In the box was a small string bracelet, decorated with blue and black beads. In the center were three white beads with the letters “JBB”.

Your smile was so wide your cheeks were starting to hurt. You reached for your phone to send Bucky a thank you text, but a deep voice startled you.

“ I like to see my light smile,” Bucky stood on the other side of your desk.

“ What are you doing here?” you giggled as you made your way over to embrace him. 

“Thought I’d take you out for lunch,” he said casually, then placed a kiss on your forehead. 

“Thank you for the bracelet, Jay,” you said as he took the bracelet and put it on your wrist, straightening the beads. 

“ Anything for you, light” Bucky mumbled as he kissed the inside of your wrist. 

Hopefully the next diamond he gives you, he’ll put it on your ring finger. Cross his fingers you won't reject that one.

~~~~~~

the bracelet in question

Part Two