#I don’t know what I’ll write but I hope a few words show up if I don’t scare them off by looking directly at a blank word document

[rhetoricalrogue]

The day before a big holiday is always either the slowest day ever or one of the most hectic.

My co-workers from another department invited me out to grab lunch with them, which was a nice surprise, and I’ve gotten a lot of projects I’ve had to put on the back burner completed this week. Spending the rest of the work day making sure that when I come back on Tuesday that I don’t have a lot of things to catch up on.

[smileysuh]

dark protector

🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “When I’m balls deep in your pussy, watching you writhe under me, listening to your pretty sounds- that will be the cherry on top of this birthday,” he explains. “Thank you for wanting to make me feel good, but- usually, baby, I like to be the giver.”

tw/cw. mentions of past relationship abuse/trauma/cheating, alcohol, bar fights, Cheol gets grazed with a knife, unprotected sex, dry humping, hand job, blow job, pussy eating, fingering, pleasure dom!Cheol, breast worship, dirty talk, praise, size kink/manhandling, multiple reader orgasms, groping, Cheol is a big muscled tattooed man, creampie, birthday sex, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 14.2k

🍭 aus. tattoo/motorcycle au, nurse!reader, soulmates, etc…

☀️ mlist + an.  The tarot deck used in the prologue is ‘The Wild Unknown Animal Spirit Guide Deck’ by Kim Krans. I had so much fun exploring a more spiritual-themed plot, the idea of soulmates and spirit guides and such :)

Prologue

It’s been six months since your breakup. Six months of self-work and healing practices. Six months of connecting with your spirit guides, hoping you can work through this dark period of your life and come out the other side.

You’ve just gotten off a long shift at the hospital, where you work as an emergency room nurse. Cleaning up other people’s messes makes you feel a little more whole every day, it shows you that while your wounds might be deeper than the skin, you have the resources to fix things that seem unfixable.

After a shower, you slump onto your couch, your hands reaching for one of your tarot decks. It’s as if you can feel the energy radiating off your spirit animal cards, and you remove them carefully from the box, holding them close to your chest.

“Spirit,” you say softly. “I think I’m finally ready to try dating again. But I’m scared. I’m scared I’ll end up in the same situation as last time, finding a man who needs to be fixed- I know my pattern is finding broken men, and I’m done with that. I need guidance. I need some sort of sign that will show up when I meet the right person.”

Part of your healing journey was writing down what traits you’d want in a partner. You’d made a list that included, ‘kind, smart, patient, stable, loyal, and protective,’ and you’d folded to your own physical tastes by writing ‘tattoos’ as well. You can’t help it, you like the way art looks on skin, and although all the tatted bad boys you’ve dated in the past have been assholes, you’re holding onto a hope that you can find a good man with tattoos. You know they’re out there, you just have to find one.

“Spirit, can you help me pull a card, and whatever animal is on that card could be a tattoo that my future significant other would have?” you ask. “Please don’t choose a lion or a wolf or something super common- I want an animal that is a little more unique, something that couldn’t just be coincidence… but, I mean, if my soulmate is meant to have a wolf then I guess I can make that work.”

You hate questioning your guides, hate putting boundaries on them. If your soulmate has a stupid, overdone tattoo like every other man with ink, then so be it.

Taking a deep breath, you begin to shuffle your spirit animal deck. 

You’re not being too fast with your shuffle, you prefer to sit for a long time and wait for cards to pop out rather than force a reading with erratic motions. Focusing on your breathing, and your ask from the spirit, you wait patiently.

Soon, a card pops out, landing on the coffee table in front of you.

An Elk looks up at you, and you take a moment to assess the card before finding the guide book.

You flip to the Earth section, finding the Elk easily. There are a few keywords at the top of the reading, they say ‘Stable, resilient, headstrong, the father.’

Stable is a word you’d written into your boyfriend manifestation notes, and you consider that for a moment before reading further. 

“The great Elk represents the Earth element in its masculine form. This means it provides underlying support and stability amidst life’s many changes. An Elk personality is fully established in themselves and knows their core values. They become known and respected for acting in ways that uphold those values. Sometimes the Elk’s ego can become inflated, but for the most part, they make damn good fathers, mothers, lovers, and friends. The world needs more elk energy.”

You think about the type of man who could be stable, whether that’s financially or emotionally. You’re hoping to find a man as set and in love with his job as you are- the kind of man you could build a future with. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been thinking about kids, and the note that Elk personalities make good fathers and lovers makes the feeling of hope stir within you.

However, the Elk - like the Lion and the Wolf -  is a pretty common tattoo. 

“I’m wondering if I should ask for a second card,” you tell your guides. “This deck has numerous animals connected to zodiac signs. Fish for Pisces, Scorpion for Scorpio… I know not all zodiacs have an animal correlated to them, so I won’t use this as a defining factor, but… maybe to make things even a little more specific, could you help me pull a card to represent the zodiac sign for my future Elk tattooed boyfriend?” 

This feels like a lot. And you’re aware that there are only a few cards in this large deck that will actually connect to the zodiac, so you prepare yourself for a dud card.

You begin to shuffle, and this time, a card pops out even faster than the first. It’s face down on your coffee table, and you take a breath, willing this to be a sign.

When you flip the card, you find a lion staring up at you.

The lion is correlated with the Leo zodiac, and you swallow thickly, thinking about the traits generally connected to Leos. The words that come to mind are ‘confident, loyal, ambitious, and protective,’ two of which are traits you’d manifested.

You find your guidebook again, reading the top line of traits: “Patient, regal, a complete master.”

“The Lion is a master of the fire element and the living mascot of self-transformation. A lion personality dedicates their life to personal and spiritual growth. This dedication inspires some and intimidates others, therefore the Lion is respected by all but known intimately by few. Some mistake the Lion as hard to access or aloof, yet those with a keener eye know better. Lions are observant, stealth, and precise in their words and actions. They do not waste energy or resources. This card reminds us that self-mastery is available to all, no matter where our quest begins.”

You consider your reading as you put your deck away and head to bed. A Leo man with an Elk tattoo, someone who is patient, stable, headstrong, loyal, and maybe a little egotistical, but hopefully not in any ways that would be damaging to you like your narcissist of an ex-boyfriend.

You’re prepared to not find a man who fits this bill, but you feel a little better about narrowing down the traits you’re attracted to. Some people don’t believe in tarot, and while you can understand that, this reading has spoken to you in a way that you can’t quite explain.

There’s no timeline to the reading, and you won’t be restricting yourself waiting for a man with an Elk tattoo to sweep you off your feet, but it feels a little easier having some parameters. 

When you fall asleep, you dream of a large man standing in shadows, Elk-like antlers protruding from his head. 

One:

“Tell me again how you found out about this place?” you sigh, getting out of your best friend’s car to stare at the tattoo studio.

“God, I’ve told you a hundred times,” Sunmin rolls her eyes. “One of my sister’s boyfriend’s cousins’s boyfriends work here.”

“I’m going to need you to say that slower.”

“My sister’s boyfriend, Jeonghan, his cousin is dating one of the artists here, and he says they’re all super hot. And I figured, since your tarot cards told you a few months ago that you’ll find some dude with an elk, a tattoo shop is a good place to look for him.”

“Okay, but please don’t bring up the actual tarot,” you plead. “People judge me for that shit all the time.”

“My lips are sealed but my eyes will be wide open,” she grins.

The two of you enter the tattoo shop, and the air conditioning is a welcome reprieve from the hot summer outside. Your friend chats with the receptionist about her consultation with an artist named Vernon, and soon the two of you are being escorted deeper into the studio.

It’s an open plan layout, with small sections for each artist. Only one man is currently tattooing someone, and you suppose that since it’s the morning, they likely get busier as the day goes on.

There’s a large man who approaches you and your friend as you sit in Vernon’s section. “Hi! You must be Vernon’s ten o’clock consultation! I’m Mingyu. Vernon’s just chatting with our boss in the back, but he’ll be out pretty quick.”

“Hi, I’m Sunmin and this is y/n,” your friend introduces you. “We have no problem waiting.”

“Cool. I don’t have a client for a while, I can keep you guys company while you wait for Vernon if you’d like.”

“We’d love that,” Sunmin beams. 

“How did you guys hear about us?” Mingyu asks, taking a seat on the tattoo artist chair.

“My sister’s boyfriend’s cousin is dating one of the guys who work here,” Sunmin explains.

“Is your sister’s boyfriend Jeonghan?” 

You’re shocked the man was able to follow what Sunmin just said.

“Yup! That’s him!” Sunmin confirms.

“Love that guy,” Mingyu grins. “Yeah, I’m dating his cousin. He told me he’d tell others about the shop but I didn’t think he’d actually follow through with it.”

“Well, here he is, following through,” Sunmin laughs. 

“So is this tattoo consult for you?”

Sunmin nods. “Yup! I’ve always liked ink, got a few small pieces, but I wanted something bigger for my thigh.” 

“How about you?” Mingyu asks. “Any future tattoo plans?”

“Not at the moment,” you respond, gaze shifting to a door that leads to the office in the back. Two men have come out, they’re both quite handsome, dressed in oversized hoodies that obscure any ink on their torsos. 

“I’ve actually been looking at elk tattoos,” Sunmin lies, “know anyone with anything like that?”

Mingyu opens his mouth to respond, but one of the men from the back is already approaching. “Hi, are you Sunmin?” he asks.

“That’s me,” your best friend beams.

“I’m Vernon,” the soft looking man smiles. Mingyu gets out of his seat, bidding a quick farewell before going back to his own section. As Vernon and Sunmin begin to talk about her tattoo plans, you find your eyes shifting to the man who must be the boss as he walks over to inspect the tattoo taking place.

He’s got a nice build, and you can see the outline of strong shoulders even from under his large black hoodie. He rolls up the sleeves, and you can see he’s heavily inked, but from a distance, you can’t make out any elk-like marks. 

Sunmin had done her best to try to ask Mingyu about a tattoo fitting what your tarot had told you to watch out for, but you suppose you shouldn’t be shocked that your soulmate isn’t in the first shop you’ve gone into. 

You relax against your chair, listening to Sunmin and Vernon talk.

You’ll do your best to find your Elk inked Leo, but you suppose you can’t rush the process.

Two: 

You’re at a bar with friends when you hear a commotion just outside. As the designated driver of the night, you haven’t touched any drinks, and although it might not be anything serious, your emergency room nurse instincts kick in, drawing you to the possible danger as you quickly make your way to the front of the bar.

You catch the tail end of what’s happening, one bouncer chasing after some guy who’s booking it down the street, and another man being held back by a second security guard. 

The man being held back looks enraged, and he manages to break out of the bouncers grasp- which is when you see blood on the back of his white shirt.

“Fuck that guy,” the injured man snarles, and when he turns, you catch a glimpse of his profile.

It’s the man from the tattoo parlour, the one you assumed was the boss.

While he looks extremely pissed off, you can’t help but approach. “Excuse me,” you say quietly, grabbing his attention. “You’re bleeding.”

“Am I?” He looks over his shoulder, grabbing at his shirt where the blood is. “Fuck, he must have grazed me.”

Must have grazed him… with a knife?

“I’m uh… I’m an ER nurse, do you mind if I take a look?” you ask.

“I’ll grab the first aid kit,” the bouncer tells you, darting back into the bar.

“I’m fine,” the tattooed man tells you.

“Then there’s no harm in me taking a look to confirm that.” You try to smile softly at him.

The man looks at you, narrowing his eyes. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

“I think I was at your parlour last week, my friend had a consult,” you explain. “I’m y/n.”

He looks you up and down. “Seungcheol.”

You can see the anger and tension dissipating from his shoulders. 

“Why don’t you take a seat on the curb and I’ll look at your shoulder?” you suggest.

Seungcheol sighs, but does as he’s told. He sits down, grabbing at the back of his shirt. You catch him wince as he tugs the bloodied fabric off, and you’re shocked at what’s revealed.

It’s not the slight gash that makes you take a step back, it’s the Elk head tattoo on the center of his spine, with large antlers tangling up toward the back of his neck.

“Is it that bad?’ Seungcheol asks, looking over his shoulder at you again.

“No, it’s not that.” You do your best to compose yourself, kneeling down to look at the wound, although your eyes keep going back to the Elk. 

The bouncer returns with the first aid kit, and Seungcheol sits there quietly while you clean the wound. “You’re right that it was a graze, but I still think stitches would be a good idea,” you tell him.

“I’m not going to the hospital,” Seungheol responds while you press gauze to the wound, bandaging him up with medical tape. 

“Why not?”

“I just don’t like hospitals,” the beefy tattooed man says simply.

You release a sigh. “Listen, I’m going to give you my number, and if there’s any sign of infection, call me, okay?”

“You said you're an emergency room nurse, right?” he asks, standing up when you finish with his shoulder.

“Uh huh.” Words evade you as you look at his chiseled chest, and you do your best not to be too obvious at the way you’re gawking at him.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what I did to piss off the dude with the knife?”

“It’s not important,” you respond quickly. “You identified it as a knife wound, and that’s all I needed to know.”

“I was in the emergency room one time, got stabbed by some kid outside a strip club, the nurses kept pestering me about the details. It’s one of the reasons I don’t like hospitals,” Seungcheol explains.

“Well, your business is your business,” you tell him. “All I care about is that your wound doesn’t get infected, and you take care of it if you’re not getting stitches.”

Seungcheol’s gaze feels hot as he stares at you, and then he pulls his phone out of his pocket, handing it to you. “Here. For your number.”

Your fingers are shaky as you type in your digits before handing it back to him, and you can’t help but notice the way your hands briefly touch.

“I need a drink,” Seungcheol says. “You coming back inside? I’ll buy you something, as a thank you for not pestering me.”

“No thanks is necessary,” you try to assure him, but Seungcheol is already reaching for your hand.

“Don’t fight this,” he tells you. “Let me say thank you in the way that I know how.”

You allow the big burly man to guide you back into the bar. He orders himself a shot of tequila, then turns to you expectantly.

“Uh, can I get an iced tea?” you ask.

“Not drinking?”

“I’m the designated driver tonight,” you explain. “My friends are over there-” you turn and catch your whole table of friends staring at you. 

Seungcheol follows your gaze and smirks, offering your friends a small wave. “Okay, so you're a stay in your lane ER nurse, and you’re a designated driver.”

“That sums it up I guess,” you laugh.

“She’ll get an iced tea,” Seungcheol tells the bartender.

You like that he’s not pushing you. Some people pressure you to drink when you’re out, but you like to have your head screwed on straight on your shoulders. You never know when an emergency is going to happen, and your soul calling is helping people. On top of that, it’s nearly midnight, and you’ve got a shift in five hours that you need to be sober for.

“I’m trying to find red flags with you, you know?” Seungcheol says nonchalantly. “But so far, I’m not seeing any.”

“Maybe that’s because I don’t have any?” you suggest.

“I’ve been told I’m a walking red flag,” Seungcheol muses. 

“Tattoos can be deceiving,” you point out, although, studies do show that people with trauma are more likely to be inked- all your ex’s have had tattoos, and they’ve all had dark pasts. You can’t help you type, and staring at the man with the elk on his back, you wonder if this is going to be just another repetition. 

Your drinks are set in front of you and you watch Seungcheol down his tequila shot. He shakes his head out a little at the taste, and you appreciate the way his dark curls look with the motion. 

“Anyways, you’re here with friends, I won’t keep you,” he sighs.

“Thanks for the iced tea,” you smile softly.

“Don’t mention it,” Seungcheol nods.

You mirror the movement, grabbing your drink and heading back to your table.

The moment you’re seated, all your friends erupt into chatter.

“Who was that?!” one asks.

“He was hot!” another friend notes.

“Wasn’t that the dude from the tattoo shop?” Sunmin questions, looking after Seungcheol. “Is he… bleeding?”

“Yeah, it’s the guy from the parlour,” you sigh. “His name is Seungcheol, and yes, someone tried to stab him outside.”

“Jesus!” Sunmin’s eyes widen. “But… he bought you a drink?”

“I just cleaned the wound and bandaged it,” you explain. “He insisted on getting me a drink.”

“Well… that’s nice, isn’t it?” one of your friends says thoughtfully.

“I guess.” It’s clear you don’t want to talk about this further, and your friends quickly go back to discussing something else, but you inch closer to Sunmin. “He has a tattoo.”

“He has a lot of tattoos,” she laughs.

“No, he has like… this big elk head and antlers on his back.”

“What?!” 

“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” you warn her, not wanting her to raise her voice too loud so your other friends hear. You’re quite private about your spiritual leanings. Being a woman of science, and ER nurse no less, sometimes it feels like believing in fate isn’t something that works well with your job.

“We’re talking about this later,” Sunmin tells you.

“Yeah.”

You sit back, thinking about it.

Obviously your interaction with Seungcheol was short. He came off as a bit of a hot head, perhaps you’d even use the word brash- there was certainly a level of ego that radiated off of him as well, but, at the same time, he’s one of the most handsome tattooed men you’ve ever met.

You’d asked your guides for a sign, and tonight, the Elk had bared its antlered head.

Now it’s up to you to decide if you trust in fate, or if this is all just a coincidence. 

Three:

You’re about seven hours into your eight hour shift. Having started at five am, after being a designated driver and getting your friends home at three, you’re quite tired. Things were very busy for a while in the emergency room, but for whatever reason now that it’s noon, things have seemed to calm down a little.

You’re just sitting in the nurse station with your coworker Joshua when your phone buzzes in your pocket. It’s an unknown number, and at first, you’re not sure if you should answer it.

Against your better judgement, you bring your phone to your ear, “Hello?”

“Is this the stay in your lane ER nurse who’s also the designated driver?”

You let out a sigh. “Y/N.”

“Yeah, you.”

“Hi, Seungcheol.”

“Hi. So, I tried to stitch up the wound when I got home, and I’m not sure if I did a good job.”

“You tried to stitch it up?” you ask, already exasperated. “Why didn’t you ask me to do it at the bar?”

“I just didn’t,” he says simply.

“Send me a pic of the stitches,” you instruct.

“One sec.”

You wait patiently, and Joshua catches your eyes. ‘What’s happening?’ he mouths.

You quickly mute your call. “Some guy I helped at the bar last night got grazed by a knife, he didn’t want stitches, but decided to try to stitch himself up this morning.”

“What the fuck?” Joshua laughs.

“Okay, sent.” Seungcheol’s voice makes you hit the unmute button, and you open your messages to see the picture.

Joshua rolls closer, staring at your phone. While Seungcheol’s broad muscular back is a bit of a distraction, the stitch up job on the wound is sloppy, and draws most of your attention.

“Seungcheol,” you sigh. “I’m going to say this in the nicest possible way. You might be a tattoo artist, but your stitching skills are sub par at best.”

The line is quiet for a moment, then you hear a chuckle. “Someone’s in a grouchy mood.”

Joshua’s eyes widen, and he looks at you for your response. 

“You would be too if you spent all yesterday sleeping, woke up to be a designated driver for your friends, got home at three and had to be at work for five.”

“Oh… are you at work now?”

“Uh huh.”

“I shouldn’t bother you then,” Seungcheol says quickly.

“It’s no bother,” you assure him. “Look, I’m off in an hour. I’ll swing by to your shop to check out the stitching. Most stitches should be sewn within six to eight hours, we’re bordering on twelve- I just want to make sure there’s no infection.”

“You should just go home after work.”

“You should listen to your ER nurse and let her help you,” you retort, too tired to argue with him over this.

Seungcheol makes a groaning sound. “Fine.”

“See you in an hour.”

You hang up the phone and Joshua looks you up and down. “What’s his deal?”

“Honestly,” you sigh, “I couldn’t tell ya.”

Four:

You and Joshua often have the same shifts, and you carpool together to feel more green, so it’s Joshua who drives you to the tattoo parlour when you’re done work.

Seungcheol is waiting outside, arms crossed over his broad chest, and he eyes Joshua as the both of you get out of the car. 

“Hey,” Seungcheol says as you approach, “who’s this?”

“My coworker, Joshua,” you introduce them, and Joshua has the decency to hold out a hand.

You hold your breath, releasing it when Seungcheol gives him a customary curt handshake.

“He’s your ride?” Seungcheol asks.

“Uh huh, is that a problem?”

“I just don’t feel comfortable having him around while you check out my shoulder, even if he does work with you” Seungcheol explains. “Listen, I’ve got a motorcycle and an extra helmet in the shop, how about I take you home after this?”

Both men look at you, and for a moment, you feel flustered and put on the spot.

You’ve never been on a bike before- but fuck it, you’re too tired to work through Seungcheol’s weird alpha behavior and territorial mentality about you having a male coworker with you.

“That works,” you agree. “Thanks for the ride, Josh.”

“Text me when you’re home,” he warns, pulling you in for a hug.

You can practically feel Seungcheol staring daggers at the two of you when Joshua pulls away and heads back to his car.

Seungcheol’s demeanor is a bit icy as he leads you into the shop. You notice Vernon and Mingyu. Mingyu even says a loud “Hi, y/n!” and you nod politely as Seungcheol takes you into the back office, closing the door.

“So, is that dude your boyfriend?” he asks, heading to the first aid kit already open on his desk.

“No, I’m not seeing anyone right now. My last ex, uh… he did a number on me.” 

“Yeah?” Seungcheol takes off his shirt while you grab medical gloves to pull on. “Wanna talk about it?”

“I’m not sure what there is to say,” you admit with a sad laugh.

“Then you don’t have to say anything,” he decides.

“How about you?” you ask, softly prompting him to turn away from you on his spinny chair so you can assess the wound, gently removing the gauze. 

“What about me?” he counters.

“Are you seeing anyone?”

“Nope.” He’s quiet for a moment. “My ex was a bit of a shit show too.”

“Well I guess we’re kindred in that at least,” you smile, leaning close to get a better look at his shoulder. 

Seungcheol shivers slightly, and you think your breath on his throat must have set him off a little, but he stays silent. You notice his hands balling into fists on his thighs.

“I think your stitching can stay, but I’m going to clean your wound again and rebandage it.”

“Sounds good,” Seungcheol responds gruffly.

“While I’m doing this, do you mind if I ask about your tattoo? This big Elk?” You gently graze your surgical gloved pinky finger down his spine, and Seungcheol shivers again.

“Jesus, don’t do that,” he snaps.

“Sorry. It’s a pretty tattoo, I couldn’t help myself.” Your skin is heating with embarrassment, and you notice Seungcheol’s ears turning red too.

“I uh,” he swallows thickly. “My grandma was a tarot reader. She was always doing these readings, very connected to the Earth and shit. She used to tell me I had an Elk soul, like her. Something about spiritual guidance, protection, kindred souls or some shit. I’m not super into that stuff, but when she died, I kept having these stupid Elk dreams. Sort of felt like she was trying to communicate with me- if you believe in that sort of thing. Anyways, I figured if I got the tattoo, I’d feel closer to her, like she has my back.”

This is not the tattoo explanation you’d ever considered would come from a man like Seungcheol, and it takes you a few moments to register it and decide on a response.

“It sounds like you were very close with your grandma, I’m sorry that she passed.”

“It’s okay,” Seungcheol shrugs it off. “Shit happens.”

And just like that, he’s closing up again.

You wonder if you should tell him about your tarot connections, but you don’t want to sound like some crazy chick if you mention your spirit guides pointing you toward an Elk. Instead, you bite your tongue as you finish up his wound. 

“All done,” you announce.

Seungcheol doesn’t say anything as he stands up and puts on his shirt. “What’s your address?” he asks, pulling out his phone.

You show him on the maps where you live. “Are you sure you want to give me a ride? Don’t you have… clients?”

“I can get you home and be back in time for my next appointment,” he assures you. “Think of this as another way of saying thank you for fixing me up.”

So far, he’s shown two love languages. He’s bought you a drink, and now he’s doing an act of service. He’d seemed hesitant on touch today, unlike last night when he’d been drinking, and you wonder what his history in relationships is like.

It sounds like you’ve both had shitty past experiences.

You just want to figure him out.

“Have you been on a bike before?” Seungcheol asks, grabbing a small black fullface helmet off a shelf of motorcycle memorabilia. 

“No.”

“Are you scared?”

“More tired than anything else,” you admit with a laugh.

“Well, my Harley has a sissy bar, so you’ll be okay.”

You don’t even know what a sissy bar is, but you follow Seungcheol out to his bike anyways. 

“Here, we can put your stuff in my saddlebag,” he explains, opening a large additional compartment near the back tire of his bike. “I don’t always ride with these, but for whatever reason, I thought it would be a good idea to have them on today.”

He helps you put your work bag in his bike, and then, he helps you with your helmet, his fingers delicately grazing your throat as he tightens the strap there.

“If anything is wrong, just tap my thigh,” he tells you, swinging a leg over his bike and starting the engine.

Even with layers of protection over your ears from the helmet, his Harley is loud. It purrs, like a lion, and you stand in a daze for a moment before he makes a motion for you to hop on. 

You’re careful of his injured shoulder as you slowly get on the bike, adjusting yourself on the seat. 

Seungcheol reaches for your hand, settling it on his hip. He opens his visor. “Ready?”

You nod.

He nods back, and the bike roars to life. He pulls out of the parking spot, and you hold on tighter, thankful for the additional padding of a safety bar behind your back- is this the sissy bar he was talking about? 

You can’t dwell on motorcycle terms as Seungcheol gets onto the street, the bike moving even faster. The feeling of summer air is hot but pleasant on your skin as you ride between cars. You get the sneaking suspicion that Seungcheol is holding back on his driving-

You could imagine him weaving between vehicles and being a general menace on his bike, but with you on the back, he’s trying his best to be a gentleman.

You’re shocked at the trust you already have in this man. A man who a little over twelve hours ago, was a stranger.

You’ve never considered yourself an adrenaline junkie, but on the back of Seungcheol’s bike, everything else slips away.

You’re at your home before you know it, and you almost feel sad when Seungcheol pulls up to the curb. He motions for you to get off, and he joins you on the sidewalk a moment later, quickly helping you with your helmet.

“How was it?” he asks.

“That was super fun,” you tell him, beaming.

Seungcheol grins when he sees the expression on your face. “Glad you enjoyed it.”

“Listen, keep the helmet for now,” Seungcheol says. “I have your number and I know where you live, so I’ll come back for it.”

You feel your expression drop, and Seungcheol cocks his head to the side, concern written on his face.

“You good?”

“I just-” you swallow thickly. “Sorry, my uh- my ex used to say that to me. That he knew where I lived when I broke up with him. It felt like a threat, and it’s one of the reasons I had to move a couple of months ago.”

Seungcheol is quiet for a moment. “Fuck that guy.”

You nod. “Fuck that guy.”

Five:

You’ve had Seungcheol stuck in your head. After he’d dropped you off, it had been hard to sleep, your mind preoccupied with his answer about his tattoo. When you’d finally woken up hours later, you hadn’t been able to help yourself, you’d pulled out your tarot deck.

“Spirit,” you’d breathed. “I think I may have met him. The Elk. And even though you’ve given me the sign with his tattoo, I feel like I need more confirmation. I’m going to shuffle, and if this is meant for me, can you please give me a love card?”

There are numerous cards within the deck that talk about relationships, partnerships and new beginnings, and you’re hoping that one pops out.

You begin to shuffle, closing your eyes and taking it easy.

It’s about a minute before a card pops out. It’s upside down on your coffee table. 

You take a deep breath, slowly reaching out to flip the card.

The Two of Cups stares up at you, and you don’t even have to open your tarot guide book to know what that means. It’s a card of unity, of partnership. Other than the Lovers, it’s one of the most clear relationship cards you can get. 

You stare at it for a long while. The Elk may have been a coincidence. The fact that his own late grandmother had been a tarot reader may have been a coincidence. But pulling the Two of Cups, out of any other card, when seaking confirmation- this feels like fate. 

Part of you wants to be extra sure and ask for the lovers card, but you also think this might be a good time to trust your spirit team. They’ve guided you twice now, and maybe you have to look inward.

Why are you so cautious that Seungcheol might be the one?

Are you ready for a new relationship?

You’d thought you were ready- and here you are, meeting a man who fits your type-

Maybe it’s the fact that he is your type that you’re worried. What if he turns out to be a dickhead like the last ones? You’re still holding onto a lot of fear. You want to protect yourself, which you validate as a legitimate concern.

But… are you going to spend the rest of your life frightened?

Or are you going to try to let go of those fears and learn to trust again, even if it ends up biting you in the ass?

The possible risk is heartbreak, but the possible reward is endless happiness.

Fate can only do so much, this is the part where your own actions will dictate the future.

Six:

“So, how’s that dude with the tattoos doing?” Joshua asks, taking a seat next to you in the nursing station when things have finally calmed down.

“Cheol? I uh… haven’t talked to him since he dropped me off at my place two days ago.”

“Is that good or bad?” 

You shrug. “I’m not sure. We’re both busy people. I work here, and he owns a tattoo shop.”

“I guess that’s true,” Joshua nods. “Maybe you should call him and see how he’s doing?”

You quirk a brow at your friend. “What’s your angle here?”

Now it’s Joshua’s turn to shrug his shoulders. “No angle. I think, as your friend, sometimes it’s important to give you a little push. After all, your tarot said he’s your soulmate.”

Joshua’s one of your only coworkers who you’ve felt comfortable opening up to. He knows about all your spiritual inklings, and you’d filled him in on your whole Elk, Leo, Two of Cups fiasco yesterday. 

“Fine, I’ll give him a quick call,” you sigh. “Strictly as a nurse who wants to see how the wound is doing.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Joshua grins.

You roll your eyes at him, fishing your phone out of your pocket.

Seungcheol answers on the second ring. “Hey.”

“Hi, how are you doing?” you ask, putting him on speaker phone. Joshua might be encouraging you to do this as a friend, but you know better than anyone that he also loves some good tea.

“Doing okay.”

“And your shoulder?”

“Good as far as I know… why? You worried about me?” You can hear the grin in his voice, the fact that he’s loving the concern you have for him. “I’ve had worse, you know.”

“I’d just hate for it to get infected,” you sigh.

“Look, if you want to do your due diligence as a nurse and everything, how about you get drinks with me and assess it yourself?” he suggests.

Joshua grabs your thigh, eyes widening, waiting on what you’ll say next.

“We could do that,” you respond.

“Sounds good, when are you free?”

“I’m off tomorrow.”

“How do you feel about eight o’clock?” 

“That works,” you nod.

“I’ll pick you up at eight then, and bring your helmet.”

You find yourself smiling. “Will do.”

“It’s a date. See you then.”

“Bye, Cheol.”

Your heart is racing as you hang up the phone, and Joshua immediately repeats Seungcheol’s words, “It’s a date.” 

“It’s a date,” you respond, jittery at the idea.

“Some guys are assholes and say ‘let’s hang out,’ but this one says ‘it’s a date.’”

“That’s a good sign,” you insist.

“A very good sign,” Joshua agrees. “If this dude ends up being the one, I might just have to get into tarot.”

Seven:

You’re surprised to find yourself playing nighttime mini golf with Seungcheol on your date. “What happened to drinks?” you ask as he pays for your tickets and grabs your clubs from the attendant.

He shrugs. “Figured you’re a nurse so you might not wanna get on my motorcycle after I had a few drinks, also the fact that you were designated driver last time I saw you at a bar- I thought this might be more your style. But, I’ll warn you, I’m not going to go easy on ya.”

You laugh, pleasantly surprised at how astute this man can be. “I think this will be fun.”

“Me too.”

Seungcheol’s wearing black jeans and a charcoal v-neck that shows off his strong shoulders. He’s the epitome of your type: a bad boy with tattoos. Yet, when you begin to play, he’s shockingly patient.

“Let me show you how to hold the club,” he suggests on the second hole, waiting for you to nod before he steps behind you and wraps his body around your own. “Feet positioning is key.” He also gently adjusts your hands, and your heart leaps in your chest when he breathes against your throat. “It might take some time to get used to,” Seungcheol warns, “so don’t beat yourself up if it doesn’t come naturally.”

You hit the golf ball, and it goes a lot closer to the hole than your first shot had.

“Did it take a while for you to get into mini golf?” you ask.

“Nah, I was always a natural,” he teases, flashing you a wink before he takes his own shot.

You admire the way his shoulders look with his back to you. “So what got you into being a tattoo artist? Into having your own place?” 

“Well, my grandma passed, and she left me a pretty big inheritance. She always thought I could succeed as a tattoo artist, but before that I was stuck doing blue collar type shit. I think, the money was her final way of telling me to follow my dreams. I’m kind of obsessed with ink, if you haven’t noticed.” He holds out his arms, which are littered with patchwork. “How about you? How does someone get into being an emergency room nurse?”

“I just like helping people,” you explain. “When I was a kid, I broke my arm falling off the monkey bars. I’d always been scared of hospitals, but the nurse who helped me in emergency was an angel. She made it less scary, and when it was over, I realized I wanted to be just like her. When people come into the emergency room, it’s never fun. It’s frightening, and cold- and I want to be there for people who are going through that, to be a warm, friendly face.”

“My grandma had a light worker's soul too,” Seungcheol nods. “That’s what she always called it anyways. She wasn’t ever officially trained, but in her later years she got into herbal medicine. Anytime I was sick it was lemon and garlic chicken noodle soup with bone broths and the works- always made me feel a lot better.”

“She sounds like she was an amazing woman.”

“She was,” Seungcheol agrees. “I don’t know you that well yet, but I think she would have liked you.”

You grin. “Is that an important trait you look for when taking girls to mini golf?” 

Seungcheol lets out a laugh. “It should be. My last ex wouldn’t have fit the bill, and at the time, I thought that was okay, but it didn’t end well.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I’ll talk about mine if you talk about yours,” he suggests. “You said your last boyfriend was a creep when you broke up, threatened to come to your place and shit, he sounds like a piece of work.”

“He was,” you sigh. “I’ve got this thing for big tattooed men, bad boy types. It always leads to me getting my heart broken. He would tell me I was the one and everything, but I found out he was cheating on me with some waitress at the bar he used to go to all the time.”

“So what I’m hearing is… I’m your type.” Seungcheol flashes you a wink and you roll your eyes at him. “I’m just fucking with you. I’m sorry to hear that. Cheaters are the fucking worst.”

“Sounds like you’ve experienced something like that too.” 

“Looks like both of our ex’s were cheating fucks,” Seungcheol says. “I know it’s a red flag to talk shit about your ex or whatever, but some ex’s deserved to be talked bad about.”

You nod. “A hundred percent.”

“Did you think you were going to be with your last one forever?” Seungcheol asks after a moment.

“I thought so.”

“Me too with mine, I was just about ready to get her a ring.” He frowns, looking down at his golf ball. With a sigh, he easily knocks it into the hole. “Well, this is just the way life happens I guess.”

It’s clear you both have very similar wounds. You’re shocked at how easy it is to talk about this with Seungcheol. Some people say not to talk about ex’s on dates with new people, but this almost feels therapeutic. You understand Seungcheol better, and you’re sure he understands you too.

It’s promising to know he thinks about the future, that he’s ready to settle down, not all men are.

Maybe you’re both in the same boat with all of this, and that’s a hopeful thought.

Eight: 

Seungcheol can’t seem to get you out of his head. 

He’d never thought of himself as a particularly superstitious man. His grandma had been spiritual, and he’d always loved that aspect of her. He’d enjoyed doing tarot readings and making all sorts of elixirs with her in the garden. She’d told him he’d be a successful tattoo artist, she’d seen it in the stars, and while she’d been a big part of making that premonition come true, he wonders what else she might be right about.

Seungcheol’s grandma had always told him he’d end up with a healer like her. A doctor, a psychiatrist, a nurse- she wasn’t very specific, but she’d said his soul would call in a light worker when the time was right.

He feels drawn to you, his little emergency room nurse, designated driver, light worker. 

It’s been such a short amount of time, but there’s something unexplainable about the way he feels.

“You look distracted,” Mingyu muses, coming to join Seungcheol outside the tattoo parlour where he’s puffing on his vape.

“Just thinking.”

“About your birthday party tonight, or that girl you brought through the other day?” Mingyu presses, grinning as he bumps his shoulder against Seungcheol’s. 

Seungcheol can’t help but sigh at his friend’s prying ways. 

“Look you don’t have to tell me anything, but summer is almost over and you need a backpack. My angel has been surrounded by testosterone motorcycle rides for months, and we’d all love another girl to be part of the group. You should invite her out tonight.”

Of course Mingyu’s coming at this from an angle of having a girlfriend. He and Wonwoo are obsessed with their ‘little angel,’ and Mingyu’s always talking about the joys of being in a relationship. It can get somewhat tedious for Seungcheol.

“Don’t you have a client soon?” Seungcheol sighs.

“Point taken, I’ll leave you be,” Mingyu says, patting him on the shoulder. 

As soon as his friend is inside, Seungcheol pulls out his phone. He thinks about what he’s going to say to you, before typing out an easy, “Up to anything tonight?”

He’s shocked by how quick your response is. “It’s Sunmi’s birthday this week so we’re celebrating tonight since it’s Saturday.”

Seungcheol’s mood drops, and a moment later, you’re calling him.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” you respond. “How are you doing?”

“Not so bad.” He wants to tell you that it’s his birthday tonight, wants to try to convince you to come, but at the same time, he doesn’t want to guilt you, doesn’t want to mess up your plans. “What’s up?”

“I just… I know we’ve only gone on one actual date, and I only met you a week ago, but… I just want you to know, when I go out tonight, I’m not going to be hitting on anyone or anything.”

He’s taken aback for a moment. “I wasn’t really worried about that.”

“Okay! Good! I just- I know with your ex and everything- and I just, I figured I’d clarify, even though we’ve only been on one date, I’m a one guy at a time kind of girl.”

He respects that you’re so direct about this, and he appreciates your loyalty. You really are a good person. 

“I’m a one girl at a time kind of guy,” Seungcheol says finally. “Glad we’re on the same page about that.”

“Me too.” He can hear your smile, and it makes his heart swell. 

“Anyways, I’ll let you go. Have fun tonight.”

“I will, bye, Cheol.”

Nine:

You’re having a great night. The drinks have been flowing, and you’re having a fun time celebrating Sunmi’s birthday. Things are fuzzy in the best way- until you hear a familiar voice say your name.

You turn to find your ex standing close to you at the bar, and your heart sinks in your chest.

“It’s been a while,” your ex states.

You can’t even find the words to speak, suddenly getting drunk seems like a horrible idea.

You’ve just started to feel safe again, to feel stable- you’d thought being out with your friends, you could let loose, but now your ex is here and your heart is beginning to race.

“Have you been drinking?” your ex asks, coming to stand closer to you at the bar top, where you’d been sipping a gin and tonic. 

“I, uh-” your words catch in your throat, and you swallow thickly. “It’s Sunmin’s birthday.”

Your ex nods, and when you look toward your table, you see Sunmin gaping at you.

Turning away from Sunmi, your ex addresses you. “Is she still a huge bitch?”

“I-” you want to defend your friend, but you feel frozen. You can’t think- you’re completely overwhelmed, and you can hear the blood rushing in your ears, your heart like thunder in your chest.

“We need to talk,” your ex says next. “Come outside with me.”

He grabs your arm, and then a hand wraps around yours. You turn to see Sunmi standing there, glaring at your ex. “What do you think you’re doing?!” she asks.

“Y/N and I need to have a chat outside,” your ex sighs, being very dismissive.

“She doesn’t have to go anywhere with you,” Sunmi insists. “Honey, do you want to go with him?”

You quickly shake your head, moving closer to your friend for safety.

“She doesn’t know what she wants,” your ex rolls his eyes, tightening his grip on your arm to the point where it almost hurts.

“We’re going to the bathroom,” Sunmi insists, somehow successfully tugging you away from your ex. 

“Run away, but I’ll be right here to talk to her when you’re done.”

It feels like a blur as Sunmi races you to the woman’s washroom. “Y/N,” she helps you to the sink, looking at your face. “Are you okay?”

“I-”

Sunmi pulls you to her chest, hugging you deeply. “We’re going to sort this out,” she promises.

“How?” You feel like crying. All the emotions come flooding back, the fear, the helplessness-

“We’re going to call Seungcheol.”

“What?” You’re in shock. “We can’t do that!”

“We can, and we will. Men like your ex only respond to other men. We’re calling him. Give me your phone.”

Reluctantly, you hand Sunmi your cell, turning on the sink to splash your arms with cold water.

“Hi, Seungcheol?” There’s a pause. “No, this is Sunmi. I’m out with y/n, we’re at a bar on Elm and fifth street, her ex just showed up- okay, okay, yeah, we’re in the bathroom in the back.”

She hangs up and you look to her for an explanation.

Your friend lets out a sigh. “As soon as I said your ex was here, Seungcheol said to give him five minutes. I’m going to keep you here and he’ll come get us, okay?”

You nod. “I’m sorry to ruin your birthday.”

“Honey, you’re not ruining anything,” she assures you, pulling you in for another hug. 

You hold back tears while you wait with Sunmi, and in no time at all, there’s a knock on the bathroom door. Seungcheol pokes his head in, and you see his expression drop when he sees you.

“What happened?” he growls, coming to join you.

“Her ex was trying to drag her outside-” Sunmi tries to explain.

“He touched you?” Seungcheol asks, anger laced in his words.

You nod, pointing to your forearm. 

“Grabbed is more like it,” Sunmi breathes.

“Okay,” Seungcheol nods. “Okay, I’ll get you out of here. Just hold onto me and we’ll get out of here.”

You nod again, allowing Seungcheol to gently take your hand. He guides you out of the bathroom, and you huddle close to his side as he walks you through the bar- you almost think things will go smoothly when your ex steps in front of you.

“Who’s this, you’re new boyfriend?” he asks, venom dripping from his words.

Seungcheol stops in his tracks. “So you must be the dip shit ex.”

“Say that again, asshole,” your ex growls, eyes narrowing.

“You must be-” Seungcheol broadens his shoulders, “the dip shit ex.”

Your ex releases a laugh, and then he’s taking a swing. It feels slow and fast at the same time, Sunmi tears you away from Seungcheol, who dodges the punch easily, only to land a blow to your ex’s stomach-

“Y/N! Sunmi!” Mingyu’s voice appears out of nowhere, and suddenly two strong arms are wrapping around you and your friend. “Outside!”

Mingyu keeps you close as he gets you and Sunmi out of the bar while a commotion ensues in your wake. Four motorcycles are pulled up on the curb. You recognize Vernon, and there’s another man you’ve never seen before.

“Cheol’s starting shit,” Mingyu tells his friends quickly.

“We heard your ex was here?” Vernon offers, giving you a sympathetic look.

“He threw a swing at Cheol when I got inside,” Mingyu tries to explain. “Y/N, we’re going to get you out of here, Wonwoo pass me the spare helmet from the saddlebag.”

“What about Seungcheol?” you ask, watching the men fuss.

“He can take care of himself,” Mingyu assures you, helping you put on the helmet.

“Cheol will meet us at our place,” the new man, Wonwoo, says. “When he gets hot like this, he doesn’t drive very safely.”

“Trust us,” Mingyu pleads. “We just gotta get you out of here, your ex made the first swing, and nothing good can come from this now.”

You turn to Sunmi and she squeezes your hand. “It’s okay, get out of here. I’ll text you what happens.”

You can’t even think as Mingyu gets onto his bike and you awkwardly take the seat behind him. You can’t comprehend how things happened the way they did- how fast the altercation had been before your ex had taken a go at Seungcheol.

As you leave the bar, heart thundering in your chest, it’s the most you can do to try to slow your breathing, your body still carrying the trauma that you’d endured with your ex, the wound you’d thought was healed now torn open.

Ten:

“Are you sure this is okay?” you ask as Mingyu covers you with a large fluffy blanket on his couch. “I mean- you just said your girlfriend is four months pregnant and sleeping in the other room-”

“It’s fine,” Mingyu assures you.

“I’m sorry if I ruined your night.” You’d found your ability to speak again once you felt safe and in Mingyu’s apartment, and now, you can’t help the anxiety bubbling inside of you. You feel like a burden- and it’s an all too familiar feeling from your time with your ex.

“You didn’t ruin it, we were almost done anyways,” Wonwoo notes. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Y/N, deep breaths,” Mingyu tells you, sitting on the couch next to you, offering your calf a reassuring squeeze.

“Is Cheol going to be okay?” you ask.

“He’s going to be fine, that man has never lost a fight,” Mingyu explains, smiling softly.

In the distance, you hear an engine revving, and Wonwoo sighs. “There he is.”

Not even five minutes later, Seungcheol is practically bursting through the door. His eyes find you on the couch, and you’re quick to stand, allowing him to envelop you in a hug. His heart is racing in his chest, he’s clearly panicked, and when he pulls away, he looks down at you with wide eyes.

“Are you okay?” he questions, cupping your face as if checking you for injury.

“I’m okay, are you okay?” you retort.

“Just a few bruised knuckles,” he assures you. 

You find yourself laughing, and as you laugh, your eyes well up with tears. Now that he’s here, you finally feel like you can take a deep breath, and he’s quick to tug you back to his chest as you cry.

“I’m going to give you a moment, then I’m going to take you home,” he tells you, hand smoothing up and down your back.

You stay in his arms until you feel a bit better, and when you pull away, Mingyu is offering you a tissue. You clean yourself up, say your goodbyes, then Seungcheol walks you out with the spare helmet in hand.

He doesn’t say anything on the way down, but at the bike, he hands you his fullface. “Want you protected,” he tells you, grabbing the bucket helmet from your grasp.

You nod, putting on the helmet and allowing him to help you fasten it up. 

You’re quiet as you both get onto the bike, and Seungcheol adjusts your hand to his hip, squeezing gently. 

The bike roars to life and you take off.

It’s a different feeling to be on a motorcycle while still a little drunk, and you find yourself throwing your head back to look up at the night sky. 

You’ve seen the stars before, but on the back of Seungcheol’s bike, it feels like you're experiencing them for the first time. 

You lose track of time doing this, and the ride is done sooner than you’d like when he pulls up to your building. “Come on, baby,” he says softly, helping you take off your helmet. “Let’s get you upstairs.”

He holds your hand, helping you with your keys to get into the apartment complex. The elevator ride is quiet, but his hand is a reassuring constant, warm and large wrapped around your own.

He’s never been to your place, and you feel a little self conscious as you open up your door. It’s a modest apartment, one bedroom- there’s really nothing to be insecure about, but you think maybe your anxiety from the bar incident is just making you a little crazy.

“How about you sit down, and I’ll get you some water?” he suggests, helping you to the couch.

You kick off your high heels, curling up on the cushions while Seungcheol putters around your kitchen. He already looks like he belongs here, and for a brief moment, you can forget about your ex.

Seungcheol rejoins you on the couch, handing you the cup. “Here.” 

“Thank you.”

You sip on your water, trying to breathe properly again.

Seungcheol gives you the space to unwind. He doesn’t pester you with questions about the altercation with your ex at the bar, and you’re grateful for it.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” he asks finally.

You shake your head, your eyes dropping to his hands. “You’re hurt though.”

“Just bruised knuckles,” he assures you. 

“There’s blood,” you insist. “I’ll-”

“Tell me where your first aid kit is and I’ll grab it.” 

You direct him to the cupboard in your bathroom, and he returns with it, setting the case onto your coffee table. 

“How’s your shoulder?” you ask as you take out the tools you’ll need.

“Almost better, I heal fast,” he says softly.

It feels good to focus on his wounds rather than your own, and you gently clean the scrapes on his hand. His right fist is pretty badly bruised, and you do your best to treat it. Then you begin to slowly wrap his knuckles, taking your time. Two wraps around his wrist, diagonal across the top to his pinky, under the hand, to the pointer, diagonal- 

It’s a nice repetition of motions, and when you’re all done, you lift his hand to your lips, gently pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “All better.”

You look up at Seungcheol, and he stares back.

Then, he slowly moves in, carefully watching your expression. He stops just an inch from your lips, and you can feel his breath on your face. He’s waiting for you to make the final move, for you to be the one with control.

With one last look at your beautiful, dark protector, you close the distance.

It’s a soft kiss, not the kind of first kiss you’ve ever had before. Seungcheol doesn’t immediately try to dominate you like men in the past have, he lets you set the pace. You lean in closer, grabbing his shoulders to stabilize yourself as you deepen the kiss. 

Seungcheol’s arms wrap around you, and it’s a somewhat awkward position on the couch like this, so he simply pulls you onto his lap. 

You lose yourself in the kiss, allowing all your anxiety to dissipate while you enjoy the safety Seungcheol provides. 

After a while, Seungcheol pulls away, and you’re both breathing heavily. 

“How… how do your knuckles feel?” you ask.

He laughs, looking down at his hands. “I might black out my fingers when this is all healed,” he admits. “I get into too many barfights. My grandma used to say it was the Leo in me.”

“The Leo in you?” you repeat, heard thumping wildly in your chest.

“Yeah, I uh…” he lets out a soft chuckle, “I didn’t wanna pressure you to come out or anything after I heard you were at a friend’s birthday party, but it’s sort of my birthday today.”

You’re frozen for a moment. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re a Leo,” you say again.

“Uh huh. You’re not about to tell me some weird zodiac rule about our signs not being compatible, are you?”

“No, it’s not that.” You take a deep breath. Just a short time ago, you’d decided not to tell him about the Elk tattoo meaning, and now here you are, about to tell him everything. 

You’re not sure if it’s the adrenaline from the bar situation, or the slight tipsyness, but you think fuck it, if he could tell you about his tarot loving grandmother, you can tell him about this.

“A few months ago, I did a reading,” you begin to explain.

“A tarot reading,” he clarifies.

“Yeah. And I asked my guides to show me a spirit animal card that would be a tattoo on the person I’m supposed to be with. The card came up as an Elk- and before you tell me it’s a very common tattoo, I know it is, which is why I asked for further clarification with them telling me the zodiac of this person too-”

“And they said Leo,” he breathes.

You nod. “Then, when I met you, the Elk lined up, but I still wasn’t sure, so I did another reading on us, and the Two of Cups came out, it’s a love card. So with those two cards, and now the fact that you’re a Leo-”

“Is this your way of telling me you think I’m your soulmate?” Seungcheol grins.

“God, I should have guessed you’re a fucking Leo,” you roll your eyes.

“Don’t be rude,” he tuts, gently pinching your hip. “If it’s any consolation, my grandmother always told me I’d end up with someone in the medical field, and you’re an ER nurse.”

“She really said that?” you ask.

“Uh huh.” Seungcheol’s gaze dips to your lips then back up again. “I wonder if she saw this future.”

Your heart melts. After your last relationship, where the lovebombing came on fast, you’d promised yourself not to get burned by that sort of thing again- but here you are, falling for Seungcheol way quicker than you ever have with anyone else in the past.

Even so, something about this feels so right.

You let out a breath. “One time with the Elk may have been coincidence. Two times with the Two of Cups card was a little odd. But three times with your Leo Zodiac-”

“I guess the question is, do you believe in fate?” Seungcheol moves closer.

“I think you know that I do,” you laugh.

Seungcheol’s hands squeeze your hips, and he doesn’t say anything else as he brings his mouth to yours.

You kiss him eagerly, wrapping your arms around him, pressing your chests together. His tongue glides against your own and it feels like magic- there’s a bulge growing in his pants, and you can’t help but begin to grind down against him.

Seungcheol releases a small groan and it’s music to your ears, prompting you to apply more pressure to his cock when you wriggle against him.

With a sigh, Seungcheol pulls away. “Baby,” he says softly, “you’ve been drinking and I don’t want to take advantage tonight-”

“I swear that whole situation with my ex sobered me up,” you admit. “Besides, maybe I want to give you a birthday present.” 

“A birthday present?” he repeats with a chuckle.

You nod. “Cheol, I haven’t even kissed anyone in months- I’m already practically drenched from making out, you won’t make me wait even longer, will you?”

He studies your face, and you can see the moment he folds. “We can do this, but at any point if I think you look drunk, we have to stop. I don’t want you to regret this being our first time.”

“I could never regret this,” you promise, leaning in to press your lips to his throat.

Seungcheol throws his head back, his fingers digging into your hips again. The low moan he releases tells you that he has a sensitive neck, and you enjoy simply teasing him for a minute while you mentally prep yourself for what’s to come next.

You do want to move on, and this is one of those steps.

You’re not afraid of it. You had been frightened about intimacy with someone new, but Seungcheol makes you feel more safe than you’ve ever felt in your life.

You want this. 

You shift a little on Seungcheol’s lap, reaching down to cup his cock with your palm. 

Seungcheol swallows thickly, his hands smoothing up and down your hips. “Are you sure?” he asks. “You don’t want me to take care of you?”

“It’s your birthday,” you point out. “And you took care of me at the bar, I think it’s my turn to show some appreciation.”

He doesn’t argue with you, and you can feel the tension leaving his shoulders. He lets out a deep breath. “I know it’s early,” he says, “but… if we do this, I don’t want any confusion. I want you to know that you’re mine, and I’m yours.”

“Honestly? I’ve been yours since practically the moment I saw you take your shirt off so I could clean your shoulder wound.”

Seungcheol releases a chuckle. “Really?”

“Uh huh, you make me fucking feral.”

He lets out a groan of appreciation. “It’s been hard to control myself too. That day at the studio, when you touched my back tattoo- I was so close to breaking. Wanted to throw you onto my desk and make you feel good.”

You imagine what that would have been like, and it makes you moan. “Why didn’t you?”

“I could tell you had a past, and I didn’t want to scare you off,” he admits. “I’ve been… trying to be a good boy.”

Your bad boy trying to be good to make you comfortable. You really hit the jackpot with Seungcheol.

“Cheol, I’ve told you I have a thing for bad boys,” you tease.

“So maybe I should take control right now,” he suggests with a grin.

“Let me suck you off, and then you can take control,” you tell him, pulling away. “I’m going to get on my knees now.”

Seungcheol watches you slip onto the floor infront of him, and your hands find his belt. You try to focus on your task of getting his pants off, but you enjoy sneaking glances at him, seeing his pretty face as he tries to keep composure.

He lifts his hips to help you tug his jeans down, and his cock slaps up against his lower abdomen, hard and already leaking.

He’s a decent size, somewhere between six and seven inches, and his cock is as girthy as the rest of him. You lick your lips, grabbing the base so you can adjust him toward your mouth as you lean in.

“No teasing,” Seungcheol warns, voice softening when he says, “please.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Liar,” he laughs, reaching out to stroke your head.

You slip the tip of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue. 

“And that’s the teasing I was talking about,” Seungcheol muses. “Feels good though.”

You sink further down onto him, beginning to suck as you move up and down.

“Fuck, that feels even better,” he groans.

When you were with your ex, blow jobs were an expectation, and because of that, you never really enjoyed them. There’s something powerful about doing this of your own volition, about making the conscious choice to pleasure Seungcheol.

You close your eyes, getting lost in the motion of providing this for him. Hallowing your cheeks, you suck hard when you’re near the tip, and Seungcheol groans loudly, shifting further down on the couch so you’re not bent over him in such an awkward position.

“You’re good at that, baby,” Seungcheol says. “But there’s only one birthday present I’d enjoy more than this.”

You let out a “hmm?” sound, an inquiry.

“When I’m balls deep in your pussy, watching you writhe under me, listening to your pretty sounds- that will be the cherry on top of this birthday,” he explains. “Thank you for wanting to make me feel good, but- usually, baby, I like to be the giver.”

Your pussy throbs at his words, and you increase your speed on his cock, letting out a moan of appreciation. 

“Yeah? You like that?” he asks. “Say the word, baby, and I’ll make it happen.”

You pull off of him, your hand smoothing up from base to tip to pump him while you address your beautiful dark protector. “I just want to make you feel good a little while longer.”

His expression softens. “Making me feel really good.”

You grin, returning to your task. 

Seungcheol’s hand is gentle in your hair. He caresses you while you suck him off, never applying pressure or trying to get you to deep throat him. It’s an ever constant, soft touch, and you’re shocked at how much of a gentleman this heavily tattooed, bar fighting, Leo can be. 

“Baby?” His voice draws you from your thoughts. “I know I said you could say the word and be done, but- this feels too good, and I don’t wanna bust the moment I begin to fuck you.”

You pull off of his cock with a pop, smiling up at him. “Okay.”

“Okay?” He lets out a shaky breath and grins. “Where’s your bedroom, gorgeous?”

“Right there.” You point at the door adjacent to the living room.

“Come on, baby, it’s my turn to take care of you.” He helps you to your feet, pulling his pants back up, and you’re shocked when he throws you over his uninjured shoulder, carrying you to your bedroom while you erupt in a fit of butterfly fueled giggles.

Seungcheol lays you softly onto your bed, staring down at you. He takes in your silky shirt and your dress pants, you like to be more classy when you go out, to keep up with your reputation as a nurse.

The two of you are very different people. He’s black ripped jeans, plain tshirts and tattoos. And you’re classy outfits, scrubs, and a healer’s touch. Somehow, even with these differences, the two of you work. Like Yin and Yang, complementary forces, light and dark.

“Can I take these off for you?” he asks, tugging at your pant leg.

You nod, watching the way he begins to undo your button and zipper. He’s slow with his motions, precise. It’s not a rush to get you naked, it’s an enjoyed exploration, and you love the way his eyes glow when you lift your hips to allow him to pull the fabric off your lower half.

“You’re so pretty,” Seungcheol muses.

“Yeah?”

“That day you were in my shop with your friend, doing a consult with Vernon- I was trying to act like I was watching my newest apprentice work, but… I kept looking at you. And then, outside the bar, when you showed up again-” Seungcheol shakes his head, his hand smoothing along your leg gently. “Baby, you’re going to turn me into a believer.”

“Invisible string theory, perhaps,” you grin.

Seungcheol chuckles. “If that’s what you want to call it.”

He takes off his own shirt, and you watch the way his muscles move under his skin. He’s littered in tattoos, patchwork on his arms and chest. There must be a hundred small to medium sized tattoos, and you want to know the story behind each and every one.

But there’s a time and a place for that, and right now, you’re eager for something else.

Seungcheol gets on top of you, and you immediately thread your fingers through his soft dark hair, pulling his lips to your own.

Your free hand explores his muscular shoulders, careful of the bandage still on his bar wound, and you’re practically tingling with how attracted you are to this man.

He kisses you deeply, cupping your face while his other hand braces him to the bed over top of you.

Your legs wrap around his hips, pulling him closer, and he grinds against your panty clad core.

The pressure on your clit has you moaning, and Seungcheol responds by kissing down your throat. He licks at your collarbone, and then his hand moves from your cheek to your shirt. “Can I take this off?” he asks.

“Uh huh, there’s a tie at the back.”

Seungcheol pulls off of you, and in one motion, he flips you onto your stomach. His warm hand smooths over your shoulder, toying with the tie there.

You hold your breath in anticipation as he begins to undo the corset style back of your slinky top. He leans over you, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck that makes your body erupt in goosebumps. 

You enjoy the way he takes his time with your shirt, and he slowly helps you slip it off. You’re laying flat on his bed, your tits pressed to the comforter, while Seungcheol explores your back with his hands. He traces the curvature of your sides, pressing kisses along your spine. Soft curls tickle your skin, and you’re grinning like the Cheshire Cat at how good this feels.

Seungcheol flips you over again, and his gaze dips to your exposed breasts. “You’re so pretty,” he muses, gently groping your chest, his thumb grazing over your nipple. You watch him swallow thickly, and then he’s leaning over, taking the sensitive bud in his mouth while you tangle your fingers in his curls again.

With his mouth on your breast, his free hand slips down your body, and he tugs your panties down just enough for him to access your core.

Two digits rub between your pussy lips and you feel him smile against your nipple. “You weren’t lying about being wet, baby.”

“Would never lie to you,” you breathe out shakily.

“No?” He circles your clit and you moan loudly. 

“Never,” you repeat, pushing your hips up toward his hand, needing more friction.

Seungcheol rewards you by slipping both of his digits into your wet core, pressing his palm to your clit as he begins to finger fuck you. He sucks on your breast while he does this, and you’re lost in the sensations he provides.

“Fuck, Cheol-” you whimper when his teeth graze your nipple, your pussy clenching tight around his fingers.

“Wanna make you cum,” Seungcheol says, pulling away from your breast to look down at you.

“Then make me cum,” you respond, nodding at him.

Seungcheol presses one last kiss to your lips and then he shifts down the bed, pulling his fingers from your core. He gets onto his knees at the foot of the mattress, dragging you toward himself and pulling your panties off.

He spreads your thighs. “So pretty,” he muses. “Everything about you is so fucking pretty.”

Your skin heats, it can be hard to take a compliment, but something tells you that Seungcheol will get you used to this kind of praise.

He leans forward, eyes meeting yours as he presses a kiss to your clit. You jolt at the small contact, releasing a shaky breath.

No one has eaten you out in months, and your core is already throbbing with anticipation. 

“Gonna take care of you,” Seungcheol promises, and you know that this promise extends far past the sexual setting you’re in right now.

He moves forward again, capturing your clit in his mouth while his digits easily slip into your pussy again.

You throw your head back, enjoying the sensation of him worshiping your cunt. He’s gentle with his motions at first, kitten licking your sensitive bud. You know he’s getting used to your sounds, figuring out what pressure works, what you enjoy, whether thats sucking, or more gentle stimulus.

“Feels good,” you tell him. “Like the way you crook your fingers.”

He responds by applying more pressure to the ‘come hither’ motion he’s making, and you release a whine at how good it feels.

“Just like that,” you whimper.

He sucks your clit harder too, and you moan louder, hips bucking toward his face.

Seungcheol’s free hand finds your lower abdomen and he pins you to his bed, keeping you still while he works on your pussy.

You can feel your walls clenching around him, and Seungcheol releases a groan of pleasure. It adds to your own feeling of euphoria that clearly he’s enjoying this. He hadn’t been lying when he said he’s usually a giver, and the fact that he doesn’t see this as a chore has you able to enjoy it fully, unlike certain past experiences where men had to be begged into eating you out.

Sex with Seungcheol - even foreplay like this - feels so natural. You’re not as in your head as you usually are, with his nonverbal communications and moans, you can be certain he’s enjoying this as much as you are, and it gives you the confidence to give yourself over completely to the pleasure.

Sex should always be like this, you realize.

There’s no pressure, no worrisome thoughts, it’s just two souls connecting physically in a way that’s mutually beneficial. 

Having not been eaten out in a long time, it’s not surprising that you’re extremely sensitive, and Seungcheol works you all the way to the edge before you can even comprehend what’s happening.

“Cheol-” you whimper, threading your fingers in his hair, “I’m gonna-”

You don’t get to finish your sentence, he sucks harshly on your clit, and your words become moans as your orgasm surges through you.

His hand on your abdomen keeps you steady as he works you through your high, sucking on your clit until your legs are shaking on his broad shoulders.

Seungcheol pulls away, and you open your eyes to watch him wipe the back of his mouth, licking his fingers clean. 

“Still want this?” he asks, hooking his fingers in the waistband of his jeans.

“More than anything,” you smile.

A moment later, Seungcheol is as naked as you are, and he gets between your thighs again, lips returning to your own. He doesn’t immediately slip his cock into you, instead, he grinds against your core, teasing your sensitive clit and driving you wild.

You kiss him eagerly, threading your fingers through his hair and groping his muscular shoulders, enjoying the feeling of him despite the need growing inside of you.

You’re reminded again that there’s no rush.

You can take pleasure in this without feeling like you need to be getting fucked to be worth something.

You’re a hundred percent sure that if you’d told Seungcheol you’re not ready for sex, he would have stopped, cuddled you, and not taken it personally. There’s this feeling that Seungcheol is going to be around for a long time- and as crazy as it is with how short of a time you’ve known him, you know that your connection runs deeper than your physical attraction.

Seungcheol shifts slightly, grabbing at his cock. You bite at your lip while you wait for him to line it up with your core, and you break your kiss, panting. Your eyes meet as he slips the head of his length into your wet hole, and you both groan at the feeling.

“Fuck,” Seungcheol moans, sinking in inch by inch. “You feel so fucking good.” 

“You feel better,” you retort, kissing his cheek and nuzzling his nose.

“Impossible,” he grins, burying his face in your throat as he begins to fuck you.

You claw at his shoulders, crying out with each thrust. He fills you so well- he has probably one of the biggest cocks you’ve ever taken, and the way he stretches you out is like heaven, like he was made to be in your pussy.

The sounds he’s making are unlike any other pleasured noises you’ve ever heard.

Nothing has ever felt this right.

Seungcheol’s uninjured hand finds your own, and he laces your fingers, squeezing you reassuringly as he fucks you harder, his speed increasing.

His lips are hot on your neck, and it feels delightful. You love just laying back and taking everything he’s giving you. He’s so big, like a warm, weighted blanket covering your form.

Your toes are already curling at how deep he’s hitting, and your thighs shake desperately around his hips.

“Cheol-”

“Yes, baby?” he asks.

“You just- fuck, this feels so good-”

“You deserve to feel good,” Seungcheol tells you. “You work so hard for others, I’m lucky I get to be the guy working for you.”

Your heart swells at his words. Past boyfriends’ haven't ever truly appreciated how hard it is to be an emergency room nurse. You spend your whole shift taking care of others, and that high pressure, intense mentality bleeds into your personal life. It's a sweet relief to be the one on the receiving end, to relax and know that you can fully give yourself up to the pleasure and desire you feel, without feeling obligated to return this favour with future sexual gratifications.

Seungcheol’s lips meet your own, and you get lost in him, moaning desperately as he works your pussy open.

His thrusts slow, and he stays completely still inside of you for a moment, then pulls away.

“Can you shift onto your side for me?” he asks. “One leg straight on the bed, the other thigh pulled closer to your chest.”

It’s a position you’ve never tried before, but you trust Seungcheol, and you’re quick to adjust. You lay half on your side, one leg stretched between his knees while you bring your other toward your breasts. 

Seungcheol’s warm hand finds your thigh, and he helps bend you, his free hand guiding his cock to your pussy again.

When he pushes in this time, it feels even deeper, and you let out a squeak at the stimulation.

“You like that?” he asks, hand moving from your thigh to your breast, where he gently pinches your nipple.

“So deep- I feel so full-” you whimper.

Seungcheol only grins, and he’s an absolute vision in this position. He’s practically on his knees, and his chest is all exposed and gorgeous. His tattoos are beautiful as he massages your breast with one hand, the other on your thigh, anchoring you while he fucks you.

You’re not sure if it’s the sideways angle or what, but he’s hitting a spot that has your toes curling tight, your pussy clenching.

“Fuck-” you moan.

“Shit, I should have asked this before-” Seungcheol says, voice shaky, “do I need to pull out or-”

“I’m on birth control,” you assure him. “You can cum inside.”

“Fuck,” Seungcheol groans, rutting into you even harder. 

“Kinda want you to fill me up,” you admit.

“You’re way too sexy, baby, holy shit-”

You can tell your words are doing a number on him, and it makes your core throb with pleasure.

“Can you rub your clit?” he asks. “Want you to cum with me. I hate cumming alone.”

“Yeah.” Your hand slips between your thighs awkwardly, and Seungcheol decreases his pace  to give you a chance to catch up to his pleasure.

His movements are slower now, more precise, his cock hitting that spot deep inside that has you crying out again.

“You look so good like this,” Seungcheol tells you. “My pretty little nurse.”

For some reason, his words just do something to you, and your core throbs even harder. “Cheol, I’m close-” you warn him,

“Tell me when you’re almost there and I’ll go fast again.”

You focus on the sight of him, on the tattoos and muscles, his strong features and the pretty dark curls. His small groans egg you on, and you’re at the edge in no time, giving him a nod. “Okay-”

He releases your breast, using both hands on your leg now to steady himself as he fucks you stupid, your whole body jolting with each motion. You let out a desperate whine, rubbing your clit even harder-

“Fuck, fuck-” Seungcheol groans. “Feels so fucking good- fuck, cum with me, baby, cum with me-”

You moan in response, your core clenching down desperately on his cock as your orgasm explodes through you. Your whole body shivers with endorphins, heart racing in your chest.

Seungcheol throws his head back, releasing an extremely sexy groan as he cums with you, fingers digging into your skin as he thrusts slowly and deeply, working you through your orgasms.

You rub your clit until you can’t take it anymore, tearing your hand away.

Seungcheol slumps forward, stilling completely, and you greedily grab at his shoulders. He collapses half on top of you, and you thread your fingers through his hair, panting hard.

His forehead rests against your own, and you both just try to catch your breath.

You’ve never felt connected to someone the way you feel connected to Seungcheol in this moment. It’s all consuming, and it makes you emotional as you come down from your high.

Seungcheol must notice your shaky breathing because he opens his eyes and looks at you. “You okay, baby?”

“I’m just-” you swallow thickly. “I don’t know-”

You can’t voice it, can’t voice the way you’re feeling. There are so many thoughts swirling around in your head, so many past traumas rearing their ugly faces and making you second guess yourself-

“I’m yours, and you’re mine,” Seungcheol breathes, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And just like that, he can clear all of your anxieties, as if he was able to read your mind and see your fears. 

You’ve always been drawn to bad boys, to men who you envision as some kind of dark protector- and now, you think you’ve finally found the right one. 

☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! this fic is written in conjunction to my other story 'crossroads,' read more about Mingyu, Wonwoo, and their y/n here

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🔮 preview. Seungcheol’s thrusts get faster, and he rests his forehead against your spine while he rails you into the blow up mattress at a campsite where anyone could walk by. His baby fever is at an all time high, and he’s fucking you like a man who means every word he’s saying.

cw/ tw.  Unprotected sex, sex in a campsite, exhibitionism, staying quiet during sex, pussy eating, fingering, large/muscled/tattooed Cheol, quickie, baby fever, dirty talk, breeding kink, praise, breast worship, etc…

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.6k I teaser wc. 180

🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol x afab!Reader

 bonus

It’s been just under a year since you started dating Seungcheol, and through him, you’ve found a family. Many trivia nights, and bowling excursions have been spent with Seungcheol, his friends, Sunmi, her sister, and her sister’s boyfriend Jeonghan. Once you’d met everyone face to face, it had been much easier to track Sunmi’s convoluted explanation of her connection to the tattoo parlour, and it’s been a joy to become so close with so many wonderful people.

Sunmi’s sister’s boyfriend, Jeonghan, is cousins with Mingyu and Wonwoo’s girlfriend, who’d had a beautiful baby girl this past January, and now, it’s the baby’s first summer. You don’t mind the shift of hang outs to be more baby inclusive, and now, you find yourself at a campsite with the whole gang.

While everyone is quite enamored with the little baby girl, Haesoo, no one is more obsessed than your boyfriend Seungcheol. You always get to see him coddling her while out and about as a group, but in the past three days at this campsite, you’ve contracted a serious case of baby fever.

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[moonstruckme]

hi, loveyy. if you'd like, would you write for reader x dr!remus where she's really sick and tries to hide it from him so he doesn't worry?

Thanks for requesting!

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

Remus keeps your apartment torturously cold. Normally you don’t mind it, but today you’re achy enough without the chill. The first thing you do when you get home is crank up the thermostat, then take a steamy shower and start warming the kettle. Proactive measures. 

You’re taking better care of yourself than you possibly ever have, all to the end of eluding your boyfriend. 

When Remus comes home, you’re sitting on the couch in your cozies waiting for your thoroughly honeyed tea to cool. You’re quick to remove the warm cloth from your sinuses before he can see. You make sure your throat is clear before you speak. 

“Hi, how was work?” 

“Swamped.” Remus bends over the back of the couch to kiss your hair. “Everyone has the flu, strep, or both. Every year, no one gets their flu jabs, and every year they’re shocked when they catch it.” He comes to sit by you, smiling tiredly. “I’d want to throttle all of them if they weren’t already so miserable.” 

It’s an effort to keep your shame from showing as you return his smile. Remus starts to lean toward you, but you back away, keeping your mouth a safe distance from his. 

At his questioning look, you say feebly, “You smell like your office.” 

He lets out a breath of laughter but moves away. “Alright. I’ll change.” 

You send him a guilty look as he goes that he doesn’t know the half of, but Remus only smiles indulgently back at you. 

From down the hall, you hear, “Dovey, did you change the thermostat?” 

Shit, you forgot to switch it back. 

“Yeah, sorry. I was chilly when I got home.” 

“It’s fine. Do you…want me to leave it like this? It’s set fairly high.” 

“Um…” Honestly, yes. “That’s okay. I’m good now, you can set it back.” 

“Alright.” 

You hear the ticks of the thermostat being turned down, and you grab a throw from across the back of the couch, wrapping it tightly around your shoulders. 

“Do you want some tea?” you ask him after a minute. “I’ve just made myself a cup.” 

“That’s okay, sweetheart, stay where you are.” Remus emerges from the bedroom in his own house clothes, looking painfully snuggly. He heads for the kitchen. “You left the honey out. Do you still need it?” 

You wince. “No, I’m alright.” 

When Remus rejoins you in the sitting room, you pretend to be busy with your book. He sits back in his spot, and you cozy up to him before he can try to kiss you again, your head on his shoulder. 

“Are you still cold?” he asks, adjusting the throw over you. 

You hum a lie. 

Remus seems satisfied with that. He tucks you under an arm and picks up his own book. 

You’re a few pages in when your nose starts to tickle. You try to breathe through it, hoping it will go away, but it’s no use. You’re hardly able to pinch your nose shut before a sneeze pitches out of you, violent and head-throbbing. 

“Bless you.” Remus rubs your back. “You okay?” 

You sniffle. “Yeah. Sorry.” 

“No reason to be sorry, lovely girl,” he chides gently. You feel his lips touch down on your head. 

You soak up the comfort like warmth on a wintry day. Miraculously, Remus doesn’t question you any further, and eventually you lay your head back on his shoulder. You flip pages without truly reading them, your mind fuzzy and your body exhausted, until your eyes grow heavy and you forget to flip them at all. At some point, Remus’ head tilts so it’s resting atop yours. When he starts massaging the back of your neck, it feels so nice you don’t even really register it. 

“Dove,” he murmurs. 

You hum in pleased, half-asleep acknowledgement. 

“You need to stay home from work tomorrow, sweet girl.” 

You blink your eyes open slowly. Pick your head up off Remus’ shoulder, and look at him in confusion. “What?”

He looks back at you patiently. “Your fever’s gotten worse, and you’re contagious. It’s not good for you or anyone if you go in.” 

“But…” Your brow furrows. You feel like you’ve missed a chapter. “How did you know?” 

Remus gives you an amused look. “I see sick people all day long. You thought I wouldn’t notice?” You frown. He chuckles and cups your face in his hand, thumbing over your cheek consolingly. “You were clearing your throat all evening yesterday. But it didn’t seem bad yet, and you didn’t seem to want to tell me, so…” He shrugs. “But now it’s time to let me take care of you, okay?” 

You rub your lips together. You think you’re waiting for him to be angry with you, but your boyfriend seems only sympathetic. And a bit smug. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble. “I didn’t wanna be another thing for you to deal with.” 

“Oh, hush.” Remus tsks, shifting so he can wrap his arms around you. “I like dealing with you, have I not been clear about that?” 

“You don’t want to throttle me because I’m another idiot who didn’t get the flu jab?” 

You feel the reverberations of his quiet chuckle in his chest. “First of all, I said I would want to throttle them. I’m a doctor, I can’t just be contemplating throttling my patients. And no, sweetheart.” He slips his hand from your shoulder down the length of your back, rubbing through your blanket. “I don’t think that about you. I wish you’d gotten it, but there’s nothing to be done now. You’re sick, and I only want to look after you.” 

The onslaught of tenderness melts you. You let your face slip down to his shoulder, nose pushing into his neck. “My head hurts,” you mumble. 

“Awe, dovey.” Remus brings his other hand to your nape, massaging the achy muscles there again. “Have you had paracetamol since you’ve been home?” 

You shake your head mutely. 

“I’ll get you some in a minute, then. And we can have soup for dinner, yeah?” 

“Yeah, thanks.” You feel frighteningly teary. “Will you stay here for a while with me first, though? Please?”

Remus’ lips press softly to your forehead. “Sure, of course.” 

[whitexwolfxx310]

|| What’s Your Favorite Scary Movie? ||

Pairing: Bucky x female reader

Summary: After accidentally revealing that you have a masked man kink, Bucky starts taking it to the next level.

Warnings: Smut- MDNI please!, oral sex (both ways!!), edging?, masturbation (F), praise kink, cursing, light stalking, breaking in, harassing texts/calls, and lots of angst.

Word Count: 4.3

A/Ns: Hi babes! This was going to be a short story but she came out kinda long, so I'm going to make it a 2 parter. Don't judge me 🙈 I looove masked men. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. This is also my first time getting more explicit with smut so don't judge me too harshly! xoxo

Snuggled up to Bucky under a comfy blanket with a bowl of extra buttery and salty popcorn, lights turned all the way down, you finally convinced him to watch the movie Scream. While you’ve seen it many times before and are aware of all the jump scares, you still cling onto him a little extra tight in preparation while he is completely unphased. About halfway through the movie, you hear Bucky snort.

“What?” You ask, looking up at him slightly. His face is illuminated by the glow of the tv.

“Something you want to tell me, Doll?” One side of his mouth is tugged up in amusement.

“Bucky, what the fuck are you talking about?” Confused, you sit up to look at him.

He just shakes his head, grinning, “I’m talking about how every time a masked man comes on that screen,” he points to the tv, “you press those pretty little thighs of yours together.”

Your cheeks instantly flush, “You noticed that?”

“I pay attention to everything when it comes to my girl.” Bucky leans back more, resting his arm on top of the couch still grinning, “Tell me about it.” His eyes narrow slightly, something a bit darker lurking, intrigued by this knowledge.

“I don’t know… it’s just like,” you brush your hair behind your ears suddenly feeling embarrassed, “kind of like a kink? A fantasy maybe? There’s just something so dark and exhilarating about an unknown man behind a mask that stalks and is obsessed with you. The anonymity of it I guess?”

By the time you’re done explaining, your hands unknowingly gripped and crossed your chest. Blinking rapidly, you let go and focus back on Bucky who is just watching you intensely.

He nods and purses his lips lightly, “Maybe if I keep watching this movie, I’ll want a masked man for myself,” He teases.

“Oh, shut the fuck up!” You grab a fistful of popcorn and throw it at him, sending you both into a laughing frenzy.

"You're cleaning that up, not me." Bucky laughs.

Him and his messes.

He scoops you in close to his body to finish the movie, and later that night he showed you that no masked man from a movie could ever compare to him.

Three weeks later.

While trying to grab your phone and keys out of your bag, you accidentally drop the stack of mail you had just picked up from the landlord’s office on the doormat.

“Shit!” You mutter to yourself. Bending down to pick it up, something catches your eye. Your apartment door is cracked open.

You stand up, discarding the mail and push open the door, “Hello?” You call out, “Bucky?” There’s no response.

Taking a few steps in, nothing looks out of place or any evidence that someone seems to have broken in. You start going through each room, keeping your phone firmly in your hand just in case. But there’s nothing. Walking out of the bedroom you decide you’re going to call Bucky to see how far away he is since he was on his way over, when you find him standing in the kitchen.

“OH! Fuck me-” You jump at the sight of him and grab your chest.

“Hey, Doll!” Bucky says, like the perfect golden retriever boyfriend that he is.

“Did you just get here?” You ask, your heart still pounding.

“Yeah, why?” he asks curiously, absentmindedly grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl off the kitchen counter and taking a bite.

“Um, yeah me too. It’s just-”

“Just… what?” He takes another bite.

“It’s just that... my door was open when I got here?”

“What?” Bucky’s face instantly changes, his eyes wide and anxious, “Go wait in the hallway until I look around.”

“I already did that-”

“Please?” He pleads as he throws out his barely eaten apple, already coaxing you towards the door.

Crossing your arms, you go and wait in the hallway while he looks around. After a few minutes he brings you back in.

“Everything looks to be fine, but I’m going to stay the night just in case.” You breathe a sigh of relief at Bucky’s words.

“Maybe maintenance came in and forgot to lock back up. I was having all those issues with my heater a few months ago,” You try justifying.

“Yeah maybe,” he says, with a small shrug of his shoulders.

About a week later is when the phone calls started.

Initially it was just 1 or 2 a day from a restricted number that you never picked up, assuming it was some kind of solicitation about your car’s extended warranty. But no voicemail was ever left.

As a few weeks went by though, it started to feel like borderline harassment. The number of phone calls jumped to an average of twenty times a day.

Sitting at your work desk your phone continued to violently vibrate, the words Unknown Caller lit up on the screen. You ran your hands through your hair, letting them linger on your scalp, starting to feel stressed every time your phone rang.

"Hey babes!" Hailee, your coworker/bff storms unannounced into your office, "You ready to grab some lu- oh my god. Are they calling you right now?" Obviously aware of the situation, she scurries around your desk in her too high heels and answers your phone. Clearing her throat, "Hi, thank you for calling Tammy's Whorehouse where we suck and fuck. How can I help you?" She taps an inpatient finger on her hip, waiting for a response and then the line goes dead.

Your hands fall down into your lap with an exacerbated breath, "No one ever answers."

"Have you tried tracking the number?" She puts the phone down and sits on top of your desk.

"I've tried calling my cell service, they can't do anything about it. If it keeps up, I just might change my number." You shake your head, "This is going to sound so dumb, but it has me so distracted. Apparently, I've been forgetting to charge my phone at night too? I swear I put it on the charger but then it dies in the night and that's why I've been late to work a few times."

Hailee tilts her head to the side, giving a sympathetic frown. "Sorry, girl. Hey!" She tries perking up, "Why don't we go get lunch and iced coffees? My treat?!" Her bright smile and shimmying shoulders get you to crack a smile. Jumping off your desk she claps her hands, "Yay!"

Suddenly there's a knock at your office door. Both of you stop the mini-iced coffee celebration and snap your attention to the nervous, uniformed teenager standing in the doorway.

"Delivery." he says shyly, looking between the two of you.

Hailee raises an eyebrow and smirks, looking you up and down, "Well, it wasn't delivered to my office."

You roll your eyes as you get up, smoothing your skirt down. Walking up to the boy, he quickly hands you a rather large bouquet of flowers. The intoxicating floral aroma hits you almost immediately, you cannot help but be astounded by the arrangement. Each individual flower is rather large, some darker than others; Ombres of red and burgundy into black.

"They're beautiful," You admire, inhaling deeply. "I don't think I've ever seen these before. Do you know what kind of flowers they are?" You ask the teen curiously.

"Black dahlia's," he recalled, and your stomach felt like it dropped with the mention of the name. "I don't think we've ever gotten a request for those at my family's shop before. That's the only reason I remember," he shrugged.

"Does Bucky have a brother? Because like, are you kidding me right now?" You glanced at Hailee who was making an over-the-top pouty face.

Asking the teen if he had CashApp to tip him, you quickly ushered him off. Searching through the flowers to see if there was a card or any indication that they were in fact from Bucky, but there wasn't.

That night, Bucky came over for dinner. He brought take out from a local Greek place that he really liked, but you were distracted. Just pushing the food around on your plate.

"You okay, doll?" His forehead puckered slightly in question.

"Yeah, um," You shake your head to try and focus, "Hey, thanks for the flowers today. That was super sweet and unexpected," considering you've been kinda stressed.

"Flowers? What flowers?" Bucky's posture stiffens.

"I got flowers delivered to me at work today, I just assumed it... was from you? Maybe it was a mistake then." There were suddenly mixed emotions being stirred around in a frenzy. If Bucky wasn't the one who sent the flowers, then who did? You tried saying they were dropped in your office by accident, but it just didn't feel right. It felt intentional.

"Well, honey, I don't know who it was, but it wasn't me." Bucky stands up from the kitchen table, grabbing his dinner plate. "Are you done?" He asks gesturing to your plate. You nod and he takes it as well, "But it's something I should do, and I'll be more conscious of it. I'm sorry,"

"No, Buck I wasn't-"

His lips press to the top of your head, "No, you're right. If anyone should be doing it, it should be me. Let me take the garbage out for you and we'll have the night to ourselves, yeah? Anything you want."

"Anything?" You repeat, in singsong with a grin.

He shakes his head, scraping the scraps from the plates into the garbage returning the grin, "I like where this is going," Tying off the bag, he holds up two fingers, "give me two minutes," he opens the door to the apartment and starts jogging down the hallway, "two minutes!!" you hear him call out.

The door to the apartment doesn't even fully shut before you hear the familiar buzz coming from your bag. Letting out an annoyed sigh, you angrily push away from the table and stomp over to the counter, dumping out your purse just to see Unknown Caller lit up on your phone.

You hit the green button so hard it doesn't register, so you do it again until it answers, "Hello?! What the FUCK do you want?!" No answer. But this time, you can hear someone breathing heavily. "You need some help. Seriously, leave me the fuck alone!" Hanging up, you slam the phone down onto the counter.

"Doll?" Bucky asks from the doorway, he sighs, "Was it that number bothering you again?"

"Yes!" You answer, flustered. "The next step is to just- change my number! I don't know what else to do."

Bucky steps in, closing in the door behind him with the back of his boot. His lips are pressed in tight line, "C'mere, darlin'," he holds his arms wide open, eyes soft. Dragging your feet, you meet him halfway and lay your head on his chest, "It's gonna be okay," he coos in your ear. "It's just some asshole with nothing better to do. They'll get bored soon enough. Worst case, we'll change your number. We can even go down to the store tomorrow and get you a new phone?" Bucky offers, trying to be optimistic as he caresses your arms up and down.

"I was just really hoping it wouldn't get to that point." You admit, pulling away from his chest just enough to look up at him.

"We'll do what we have to." Bucky smiles, cupping your chin between his thumb and pointer finger before pressing his lips to yours.

Letting your lips linger a moment as your eyes close, you inhale deeply, taking in the cypress scented soap still lingering on his skin from a shower he took earlier. It's your favorite. Hence why you keep buying it every time he runs out. Bucky's lips separate yours, and when just the tips of your tongues connect, a barely audible whimper escapes your mouth.

Like a gun starting a marathon, it was all Bucky needed to hear. Reaching down and gripping behind your thighs, he hoists you up. With a delighted squeak, you wrap your legs around his torso, laughing but keeping your lips on his as your hands run through his short hair. Using one hand flat against your lower back to keep you pressed into his chest, Bucky's other hand firmly grasped your ass. His fingers purposefully grazing the inseam of your jeans between your legs as he walked towards the bedroom.

Bucky sits on the edge of the bed, keeping you both upright. You break the mashing of tongues to re-adjust your position and straddle him. Leaning in, you suck his bottom lip into your mouth, letting your teeth graze just a tiny bit before letting go. Bucky exhales a drawn out, low groan before licking his lips. The look in his eyes is absolutely carnal as he tugs your shirt over your head and throws it across the room. Not even bothering with your bra, he just pulls the black lace cups down beneath your breasts, propping them up in exposure as he dips down to flick his tongue across your nipple.

Initially it makes you shudder, but as he continues to suck, nibble, lick, repeat, you find reprieve in grinding your hips down into the ever-growing bulge in his pants. Bucky lets out a stifled groan before switching his mouth to your other nipple. You smirk to yourself; you just love to tease this man. Although, if we're being honest, this isn't so easy on you right now either.

Roughly gripping both sides of his face, you bring his lips back to yours. You’re starting to feel needy for more of his touch. Becoming desperate to relieve this fuel lit fire. Bucky’s hands were firmly placed on each of your ass cheeks, assisting your already rolling hips forward and back. He snakes one hand between your bodies, slipping it down the front of your pants, his finger sliding once between your slit. You both moan loudly in unison into the kiss.

"Fuuuck..." Bucky breathed, tilting his head back just slightly that your lips pull apart. "You're already so fucking wet for me," his lascivious eyes lock onto yours, his breathing already becoming rather ragged.

Hearing his debauched voice, knowing just that single glide of his finger has him aching so badly, has ignited a new spark in you. "It's all yours, baby," you purred. Biting the bottom corner of your lip, you slowly get off his lap. Hooking each of your pointer fingers into the front pockets of Bucky's jeans, you encourage him to stand up as you drop to your knees before him.

As he's fumbling with the button and zipper, you stare up at him with tantalizing eyes, your hands firmly grazing along his muscular thighs. Once he's able to get it open, you help start to shimmy down his jeans and boxer briefs passed his hips until they pool on the floor. Bucky's thick, long cock springs up at almost eye level in enthusiasm, instantly making your mouth water. Sticking your tongue out as far as you possibly can, you lock eyes with Bucky and press the tip to your tongue, dragging it to a flick.

Sucking in a breath through his teeth, his body quivered at the first contact. You smile as you taste the initial saltiness on your tongue, licking your lips before hollowing out your cheeks and taking him into your mouth. Bucky exhales deeply, his head starting to tilt back but he stops, making sure he maintains eye contact with you. You draw back, pressing your tongue upward firmly, go forward, and go back again. After a moment, a rhythm gets going, you now move your tongue side to side as you bob front to back, sucking harder.

"That's it," Bucky coaxes, "That's my good fucking girl," a small whimper escapes your throat at his words of praise. You clamp your legs together a little tighter as it's getting harder to ignore the incessant throbbing and growing wet spot between your legs.

The next thing you know, his hands are in your hair, gathering it up into a makeshift ponytail. Grasping his shaft with your hand steadily, you use that to guide your mouth, twisting and gliding easily. You know it's his weakness. Bucky's hips start to buck up into your mouth as he pulls your head down further onto his throbbing cock. Through now teary eyes you’re determined to watch as his face starts to contort with pleasure, his moans music to your ears just as your gagging is to him.

"You look...Ahh...so...fucking...pretty," Each word comes out with a drive of his hips into your mouth. In the dim lighting of the room, completely blissed out on pleasure, he looks like a fucking god. And he's mine. The thought alone is enough to make you explode. "Ugh!" Bucky growls, "I can't take it anymore! C'mere!" With a small 'pop', he pulls out and grabs underneath your arms and tosses you onto the bed.

Giggling, you wipe the excess saliva off your swollen, red lips as you push back further onto the bed. Bucky pulls your jeans and panties down and off in one swift motion before kneeling onto the bed. His eyes are glazed over, solely focused on between your legs. He crawls upward, and it's purely feline as he dips down, his mouth creating a seal and sucking once.

The combination of a loud moan and gasp get ripped straight from your lungs as you practically convulsed off the bed from being so aroused. Bucky quickly and securely locks your thighs in place to keep them open and from you going anywhere. He grinned, watching every single movement.

"Eyes on me, princess," he ordered. Pressing down on your lips, you nodded in anticipation. Leaning in, Bucky skimmed his lips on your very inner thigh, placing a feather light kiss that made your entire abdomen tense.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

"Fuck," Bucky sits back up on his knees, taking his phone out of the pocket of his jeans that was still around his ankles. "Hello?" You stare up at him in complete disbelief, "What, now?" He looks down at you on the bed, giving a sympathetic look and mouths 'sorry'. Letting out an annoyed sigh, he drags a hand down his face. "Yeah... yeah. No- I understand... Okay. Yep. I'll be there. Bye." He hangs up the phone.

"Don't say it," you bite out, crossing your arms over your chest and closing your legs.

Bucky takes a deep breath, "I have to go back, a mission came up."

"Annnd, you said it," you look up at the ceiling, refusing to keep that eye contact that you were so adamant on not even a minute ago.

"It sounded pretty important, Doll." Bucky is off the bed, pulling up his pants and re-adjusting himself in them.

"It always is," you mutter under your breath. Sighing, you just accepted the fact that your night is completely ruined. "So, what you're telling me is, that I'm getting cock blocked by The Avengers?"

Bucky sits on the bed, placing a delicate hand on your cheek, "I'm really sorry. I'll make this up to you tenfold, promise." He kisses you softly, "I have to go. I'll contact you as soon as I can. I love you," He offers a small smile.

You sigh, knowing you can never let him leave on bad terms, "I love you too, Buck." Sitting up you give him a hug and a few extra kisses that probably made him late.

Still sitting in bed after Bucky had gone, you felt irrationally irritated by how he left. Tapping on your thighs, a headache was already brewing from the pent-up sexual tension that you were unable to get out. That's when you suddenly remembered a little something on your phone that might just help you out in this situation. There was this one particular time you and Bucky decided to record yourselves having sex, and you've never went back and watched it. If there was ever a time to go back and do so...

Excitedly, you go over to the dresser. You pull open your underwear drawer and dig through all the way to the back, where you stash your favorite vibrator. You click the silicone button a few times to make sure it's charged, and all the intensity settings worked before laughing menacingly to yourself and closing the drawer. Tossing the toy onto the bed, you walk out to the kitchen.

Your phone was where you had left it earlier, still slammed face down on the counter. Sashaying over, you notice that there's an applecore sitting next to it. This is odd, because you didn't have one and Bucky is normally very meticulous when it comes to cleaning and picking up after himself. Going to throw it out, you realize there is no garbage bag in the trash can and suddenly it makes sense. Bucky was in a rush to leave; he probably didn't have the time to replace the bag. So, you do it yourself, and throw out the eaten fruit.

Getting back to your room with your phone, you notice that your underwear drawer is open. Pursing your lips and narrowing your eyes, you look from the bed, to the dresser, back to the bed. I could have sworn I closed that. Then again, maybe it's just the headache coming on. You close the dresser drawer, and all too eagerly jump under the covers.

The ambiance for a little 'self-love' right now is almost too perfect. Your bedroom is dimly lit with only a mood lamp and the fog covered streetlamps from down below your apartment. The light patter of rain hit against your bedroom window and fire escape underneath it, while some light thunder rolled some distance away.

Scrolling through your phone, it wasn't hard to find exactly what you were looking for. Pressing 'play', you're watching a side view of you taking Bucky from the back. Your mouth drops open slightly, seeing it from a third person view. Bucky has his Vibranium hand on the side of your face, pushing you down further into the mattress and he is just relentless. And the sounds, God the sounds. You grab the vibrator, turning it on and quickly placing it onto your already sensitive and swollen clit and start rubbing it and soft circles.

"Look at how good you take it,"

"Oh, God!"

"Are you gonna come for me?"

"Mhm,"

"I can't hear you, princess,"

"Can I come Bucky? Please, please let me..."

"Of course, my good girl can come. Here... lean down more...open those legs wider...touch yourself...yeah...fuck, yeah...just like that baby,"

The bed is practically shattering underneath you as Bucky, who isn't even there, coaxes you into having an orgasm with yourself. You rub the vibrator more intensely, knowing you’re about to come hard from the pent-up tension this evening. The lights surge briefly in the apartment from the passing storm, just as your head presses down further against the pillows and the ripples of pleasure aggressively take over your body.

The lights go out momentarily, and that's when you see the silhouette of a tall, dark hooded figure standing on your fire escape looking into your window.

The lights come back on a second later and you’re panting. Both from the release and from what you saw. The cognizance hits you that you just came in front of a total stranger. Oh, and maybe that I might have a stalker.

The cops came, looked around, made you feel like an idiot, took a report, and left. Not feeling comfortable staying in the apartment for the night, you called Hailee, who offered up her spare bedroom.

Sitting across from you with her legs crossed on the couch, her hair in a bonnet, a glass of wine, and blue raspberry vape, she leaned in, listening intently to the details leading up to this moment.

“Soo… you know I’m gonna ask,” she starts.

You sigh, “I don’t know when I’m going to tell Bucky. I always feel so guilty when he’s away and something happens.”

Hailee’s face scrunches as she waves her hand in dismissal, “No, no not that,” You raise an eyebrow at her in confusion. “Can I see it?” She lowers her voice, but it’s oozing with hope.

“Bitch,” both your eyebrows raise in aghast, realizing what she’s actually asking.

“What?! Come onnnn,” She whines, pressing her hands together in plead and pouts her lip.

“Oh my god, Hailee! No! Just… no.”

Rolling her eyes she composes herself again, “Okay, so like, you ever just… look at a man, and you just know?” Her hands wave around as she’s trying to explain, “Like, that man can fuck? I feel like that’s Bucky. And so…” Hailee looks so determined right now, “s-shame on you!” She points directly at you, this is comical, “for not sharing the video evidence! Because now I’m convinced you have a boring, vanilla sex life!”

Leaning back against the kitchen counter sipping your glass of water, you hear yourself coming down from the highs of ecstasy through your phone. Hailee’s wide eyes are glued, mouth dropped open, speechless, for once. The sound finally cuts off.

“Are you sure he doesn’t have a brother because-”

You quickly snatch the phone out of her hand, “Okay, you got what you wanted. Can we be serious now?!”

“Yeah,” Hailee shakes her head, “yeah, of course…” she takes a deep breath, “I’m just saying, you seriously have some career options if your current job doesn’t work out though.”

“Hailee!!”

“Okay! I’m sorry!” Her hands go up in a surrender, “but you put in a police report, and I mean, of course you can stay here. What else are you going to do?”

*Ding*

“Hang on, I just got a text.”

“Who the fuck would be texting you this late?” Hailee asks, getting off the couch to read the text with you over your shoulder.

Together you read the message:

Part 2

If you enjoyed this, please check out my masterlist

@peaches1958 @aquabrie @elsie-bells @pono-pura-vida @redbloodedgurl @almosttoopizza @beware-my-thorns @prettylittlepluviophile @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @calwitch @ozwriterchick @roofwitty779 @lessersole @lil-darhk @agoddoesnotplead @saranghaey @erinallene @mrsvxder @elizabeth916 @cjand10 @bucky-barnes-lover @wintrsoldrluvr

[norrizzandpia]

this might have to be more than one part, but can you please write a wrong number lando fic? like lando texts the wrong number somehow and they end up becoming good friends, they start falling for each other but lando lies about his identity the whole time until they meet or he tells the reader. and she’s pissed and she doesn’t know anything about f1 anyways so she doesn’t understand why he lied. with angst and stuff? idk if this is too specific or too much to ask!

Wrong Number, Right Person (LN4)

Summary: A wrong number leads Lando right to Y/n, but even the beautiful love they find together struggles to stand a chance against Lando’s lie of identity.

Warnings: none, BUT A HAPPY ENDING!!! Y/n’s bsf threatens to kill lando lol

Note: she is LONG! The word count is almost 9k oml but i have to say that @piastrification was a major help in making this because she read it for me and made it read less stupid! She also gave me some ideas so credit to her for that xx

If there was any moment where Y/n was beyond confused with absolutely no inkling of an answer, it was now. She stared down at her phone, clutching the device as she read over the message sitting on her Lock Screen over and over.

“What’s wrong?” Her best friend, Annie, asked. Her eyebrows were scrunched together in a way she had always done since they were kids, Y/n loved the way that had never changed. The two women had experienced so much growth over the years, but it was heartwarming to see some things hadn’t.

Her eyes flickered to Annie before turning her phone around, “Why does this person think I’m supposed to be meeting them in half an hour?”

Annie laughed out loud, taking the phone from the other girl’s hands and typing out a reply, “Seems like this poor person has the wrong number.”

When Y/n’s phone is returned to her grasp, she giggles at what Annie had done.

Unknown Number

Hey! Just letting you know I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Hope you aren’t running late like last time…

Y/n

Uh, I’m actually running really behind schedule. I won’t be able to get there until around three hours from now. Sorry.

The two girls continued their lunch, feeling a bit bad about messing with a stranger’s plans but laughing nonetheless. It wasn't until Y/n’s phone started blowing up that the color began to drain from their faces.

Unknown Number

WHAT? THREE HOURS????? WHAT?

Unknown Number

YOU’RE MESSING WITH ME RN

Unknown Number

If you don’t answer me in .5 seconds, I WILL show up to your house and wreck your shit

Unknown Number

LIKE WHAT? THREE HOURS? WE’VE HAD THESE PLANS FOR WEEKS MATE

Unknown Number

Literally answer me rn or I’m telling Oscar to help me plan your murder

Y/n’s hand clasped over her mouth as she frantically began to type out a reply, guilt settling over the amusement.

Y/n

You most definitely have the wrong number. Sorry, me and my friend thought it would be funny to tell you that your plans were basically ruined. Our bad. But, I have no idea who Oscar is and I pray for the person you are meaning to text rn. Plz don’t wreck their shit!

His response was immediate.

Unknown Number

Oh… sorry for my small outburst then. But, how am I meant to know this isn’t actually the person I’m trying to get a hold of?

Y/n laughed before Annie suggested taking a picture and sending it to the mysterious number. Probably stupid considering they had no idea who was on the other side of the phone, but an image was sent regardless.

Y/n

*Image Attached*

Y/n

I am most definitely not whoever you are trying to get a hold of.

The number doesn’t respond for a few minutes, busy for all they know or getting bored of texting a supposed stranger. However, her phone dings on the table and the two girls peek to see the response.

Unknown Number

Woah, you are for sure not who I am meant to be texting right now.

Unknown Number

You are very pretty tho

Y/n giggled,

Y/n

Thank you, but not thank you if you are an old man or serial killer. I don’t take compliments from psychos.

Unknown Number

Haha no I am not an old man or serial killer. I’m a child in a 24 year old man’s body.

Y/n

How do I know this for sure?

Unknown Number

Trust me?

Y/n

Okay, ig. What’s your name?

The food comes to the table and Annie begins to dig in, watching her best friend closely before the girl puts her phone down.

“He stopped responding. I asked for his name. Probably got scared or something.” She murmurs before cutting into her chicken. Annie nods her head side to side before they take up another topic of conversation, seemingly moving on from the previous random male who had interrupted their lunch.

However, there’s another vibration on the table ten minutes later. Y/n picks up her phone.

Unknown Number

Robert :) But, people call me Bob. What’s yours?

Y/n

I am going against everything my parents ever taught me by telling a stranger my name and what I look like… but I’m Y/n :)

Y/n

Btw bob sounds like a fake name that’s so funny

🏎️

The next day, Y/n wakes up to yet another message from Bob- who had begun to take up the majority of her text notifications’ real estate. She didn’t mind in the slightest, though. They got on like a house on fire, banter, jokes and conversation free-flowing at any given time.

Bob!

Good morning :)

Bob!

Wait, is it morning for you? Where do you even live?

Y/n

Okay, stalker. It’s literally 9 am, why am I already having to deal with a man trying to get my address.

Bob!

GIRL WHAT? That isn’t what i meant and you know it, Y/n

Y/n

Yes, i know what you meant, bob. I’m just joking lol

Y/n

I live in London! What about you?

Bob!

Monaco

Y/n

Shit, girl. You’re rich asf?

Bob!

NO nah nah nah. Y/n, I literally work as a server here. I enjoy the glamor tho

Y/n

Oh… so no diamond necklaces :( You could’ve been my sugar daddy, bob.

Bob!

😭

Y/n

No i joke I JOKE i can buy my own damn diamond necklaces

Bob!

Of course you can, Y/n. I’m not surprised.

Her heart warms at his portrayed support, and even though her bank account is in the negative, she likes to think Bob believes in her just as Annie does. Maybe he actually did.

She shakes her head at her thoughts. I’ve known him for a day, she thinks. He shouldn’t already mean this much to her. She doesn’t even know him.

Y/n

Ty, bob :) I have to go though. I have so much to get done today.

Bob!

Ok! text me when you’re free?

Y/n

yesss

—

There is a small void in Y/n’s body as she unlocks the front door of her apartment. A day of being broken down has taken its toll on her. Usually, it doesn’t get to her, the stress and pressure of it all, but today, as she flops down onto her ratty couch, part of her wants to give up.

Her phone buzzes underneath her leg.

Bob!

Are you free yet?? It’s been all day, y/n!!!

Y/n

sry, i just got home.

Bob!

Just now? Didn’t you leave at like 9:30 this morn??

Y/n

yeah

Bob!

Y/n, its 10:45 at night for you

Y/n

that would be correct… how did you know that?? Tracking my time zone, Robert?

Bob!

you might be scared to hear I have London saved on my world clock so I can see it at all times

Y/n

thats love fr

Y/n

but yeah its been a long day

Bob!

oh, well, im sorry :( how are you? Tired?

Y/n

Yeah, definitely. Just a hard day in general.

Bob!

Talk to me about it then <3

Her face blushes before the color is being forced back beneath her face. She doesn’t know this man enough to tell him all her sorrows. He’s just being nice.

Y/n

it’s ok. Thank you tho bob

Bob!

Who else are you planning to talk to abt it then?

Y/n

no one?

Bob!

you need to talk about it y/n to let it go. Talk to me.

Y/n

We barely know each other.

Bob!

Do i look like i care?

She laughs and types,

Y/n

Bob, I don’t even know what you look like

Bob!

We’ll fix that someday :) Now talk to me about everything

Y/n takes a breath before her fingers begin flying across the keyboard.

Y/n

People are just mean. I try so hard everyday to give my all and my best effort, to not let people down, but I seem to still do it. I can’t quite get things right and my boss is suffocating me with the way he looms over me like I can't hold my own. It makes me think I can't. There’s no room for mistakes or excuses, you have to be perfect in the office i work and i will never be that. There’s this other girl who holds my same position yet she does it so much better. I will never hold a candle to her and I know that. She’s everything I want to be because she accomplishes everything I can't. My boss knows it, everyone knows it, and it makes me feel like an outsider. I can’t share certain memories with these people or fit in quite right because I haven't been able to achieve the same success as they have. I know I’m just starting out and I have the rest of my life to surpass them, but what if I can't? What if I am never able to gain a good understanding and I am constantly behind?

There are tears pooling in her eyes as she relives the moments of her day when certain tasks were given to this girl she envies, Sam, while her boss gave her a look that had her close to quitting on the spot. Sam gets to revel in the future while Y/n stays in terror of it. A career path she has wanted all her life taunting her.

Bob!

I can relate to that. I can understand the feeling of seeing everyone around you get something you want so dearly while you share the same tools they do and yet you still come up empty. But I’ve also learned that good things come with time and we can’t always be yearning for something that isn’t meant to happen right now. What’s meant to happen will happen for you, I’m sure of it, Y/n. I know it’s hard to not be jealous or feel inadequate, but you just have to make peace with the fact that you try your best and that’s enough. You’re a good person, Y/n. All the good will come to you.

There’s something in his words that makes her feel heard and for once, Y/n finds peace in another’s reassurance. She doesn’t want to think about what that means toward who Bob is to her.

Y/n

Thank you. That means a lot.

Bob!

Of course. I wish I would’ve had someone telling me that when I was experiencing it.

Y/n

When were you experiencing it?

Bob!

A few years ago. But, that doesn’t matter.

Y/n

You’re always vague, bob. Give me something please? I’ve told you so much.

Bob!

There’s not much to tell, Y/n.

Y/n

You’re a server. Is that something you want to do for the rest of your life?

Bob!

I don’t know. I’m still figuring it out.

Y/n

VAGUE

Bob!

Ok, okkk!! I don’t want to be a server for the rest of my life. I think I’d like to work in Formula One. I’ve always loved racing and cars, the thrill of speed and all that. Trying to be Max Verstappen fs

Her eyes twinkle,

Y/n

Haha yeah right brotha

Y/n

That’s great tho! I think you’d be great in Formula One, Bob. I’ve heard of it but not a huge fan. It seems boring.

Bob!

Damn, shitting on my favorite thing… but thank you, Y/n. I think I’d be great too.

Y/n

You know i didn’t mean it that way!! What about your family?

Bob!

If you’re gonna ask me all these questions, should we just call?? Might be easier haha

She stares at his text for a moment, only a few seconds, before his contact name is large on her screen as his call awaits her answer. She clicks the green button and puts the phone to her ear, suddenly nervous to hear his voice for the first time.

“Y/n?” His deep, husky tone fills her ears and the truth of his identity begins to genuinely reign true. His voice is none of some old, slimy man. She could see it fitting someone younger, handsome even. Part of her even wants to say he sounds familiar.

She breathes, “Bob?”

There’s a silence that passes between them, a line crossed in the random relationship they’d surprisingly developed. Rustling sounds from Bob’s end, sheets moving before Y/n adds to the commotion, her heels falling to the floor once she pushes them off.

“Are you going to ask me about my family?” He asks, a hint of laughter in his voice.

Y/n giggles, “Tell me about your family, Bob.”

He lets out a small noise of confirmation, “Well, I have two sisters and a brother. A mom and dad. Still married. I don’t know, what do you want to know?”

The two laugh together at his sudden loss of words before Y/n speaks, “Uh, tell me about your parents. Any crazy love stories in the family?”

“No, they got together relatively normal. They’ve been together since they were younger and they’re still in love to this day. They set up a great example for me.”

Y/n rises from her couch, putting Bob on speaker, and moving into her bedroom to get ready for the end of the night. His voice echoes off the walls of the glistening white walls of her bathroom as she asks him more questions about his siblings and relatives. The way he speaks so highly of them makes the pull to him she feels stronger. Something about him seems too good to be true, but she wouldn’t say that out loud. She believes too much in the power of a jinx.

Bob somehow changes the conversation to her, asking her further about her job and her worries. It’s scary how easy it feels to open up to him, things she had a hard time even telling Annie. Maybe it’s the anonymity of him, the elusiveness of the man she truly doesn’t know. However, none of that matters wholly as she lays in bed, eyes trained on the fan above going in circles as she talks about insecurities she’s had since she was a kid.

“It’s hard to know what traits you truly hold, you know? I can be the sweetest to one person, but horribly mean to another. I don’t want people to think I’m armed with ill intent. Sometimes things just don’t come out the way I want.” She whispers, arms sitting heavy over her stomach.

Bob sighs, “It’s scary how much we share in common. I’ve felt that way too many times before. You can never be too careful with your words and it just hits so hard when people don’t understand who you truly are at your core. If they did, they wouldn’t think I was saying something with malice.”

She smiles to herself. It’s as if he lives in her head. “I don’t think you’d mean anything malicious, Bob.”

He chuckles, “I don’t think you’d mean anything malicious either, Y/n.”

The quietness of her name on his lips brings her closer to sleep and it’s the way he begins to ramble about how much he loves to talk to her that sends her over the edge, a warmness accompanying her body to sleep.

Bob keeps talking for a few minutes before her silence is deafening and he realizes what’s happened. Still, he talks, traumas and all, because something about knowing she’s there makes him not want to hang up.

🏎️

“So, you’ve been talking to this guy for how long?” Annie questions, her eyebrows pulled together just as they always have while she stares bewilderedly at Y/n.

“Three weeks,” She replies, a message from Bob appearing on her screen just as they utter his name.

Annie stares at her, “And you don’t know what he looks like?”

Y/n shakes her head lightly, “No…”

Annie scoffs, “Y/n! That’s so stupid! He could be stalking you for all we know!”

“No! He’s not stalking me, Annie. I think I know him now, really. In the beginning, no, but we call all the time and we talk about anything and everything. He’s sweet and he’s everything I’ve ever been looking for in a guy.” Y/n is quick to defend, her phone in her hands as Bob calls her.

Annie glances down to the ringing phone, “Is that him?”

Her challenging look makes Y/n nod slowly. Annie lurches forward and Y/n yelps just as her best friend yanks the phone out of her hands and answers the call.

“ANNIE!” Y/n yells, grasping for the phone while Annie just moves away.

Bob’s voice meets Annie’s ears, “Y/n?”

“This is Annie, Y/n’s best friend. I’d like to know your address and full name, seeing as my beloved friend has not gotten that information yet.” She demands, eyes glancing toward Y/n as she awaits the man’s answer.

Bob stutters, “Uh, my name is Robert Dancing. I live in Monaco.”

Annie shakes her head, “No, I’m talking address. Like, 12345 Hemingway Street.”

Bob laughs, “Can I just talk to Y/n?” There’s a hint of anxiousness in his voice that sends Annie into a manic spiral.

“No, tell me where you live.” She fires back.

“Annie!” Y/n tries again, grabbing onto Annie’s sweatshirt to pull her closer. When she’s within reach, Y/n reaches for the phone and snatches it back, much to Annie’s dismay.

Y/n apologizes, “Bob, I’m so sorry. Annie’s a little insane.”

He laughs and it lingers around her heart, “It’s okay. Just call me later, yeah?”

She nods and murmurs confirmation before hanging up. She turns to look at her best friend, a rare moment of betrayal. “Why would you do that?” She asks, annoyance radiating off of her.

Annie crosses her arms, “Because, Y/n! You don’t know this man.”

Y/n groans, “Yes, I do! Also, getting to know him by demanding his address seems satisfactory to you?”

“You’re being stupid, Y/n! I’m just looking out for you!” She raises her voice, anger getting in the way of truly getting her point across.

Y/n shakes her head, “Looking out for me would be trusting me when I ask that of you! You just completely went against everything I asked of you! I asked for support, not outraged behavior!”

Annie’s face drops, “You don’t get it! Y/n, you do not know this man! You didn’t even know his last name until I asked for you yet you’ve apparently told him all of your secrets?!”

Y/n begins to pack her purse in a moment of fury, “No, Annie, you don’t get it!”

As she stands at the cusp of the front door, Annie yells back at her, “Stop falling in love with someone you can’t trust!”

Y/n closes the door shut, a huff coming from her lips as she storms down the stairs, tears down her face. To have her best friend question her judgment regarding someone who means so much to her hurts immensely. Though, what hurts worse is knowing she might be right.

—

Max almost looks perplexed when Lando hangs up the phone.

“Robert Dancing? What the hell kind of name is that?” He teases, a patronizing tone.

Lando shakes his head, “I didn’t know what else to say! Dancing was the first thing that came to my head!”

Max crosses his arms over his chest, “Are you ever planning on telling this woman who you really are?”

Lando’s mouth opens and falls closed, at a loss for words, “I don’t know. I want to, but I know she’ll run. I don’t blame her. I’ve lied about fundamental things.” There’s a crease in his forehead as he continues, “I can’t lose her. I’m too addicted to the way she makes me feel.”

Max sighs, “I hate to say it, but you might, Lan. You told her you were a completely different person, betrayed her trust in an insane way. You’ve got something special, that counts for something, but you need to be prepared for the possibility of her never being able to find it in herself to forgive you. I don’t want you to get your hopes up and get hurt.”

“I won’t. I know the risks of what I’ve done, but I can’t take it back now. I just need to find the time to tell her. I will tell her and I’ll do it in a coherent, calm way.” He tries, but the two of them know he’s already gotten his hopes up. Max looks at him with faux confidence, knowing Lando’s found himself with someone it’ll cut deep to let go of.

Lando knows it too, knows the kind of pain that’ll shred through him if she leaves because of his mistake. It’s ironic in the way that a lie, one so unnecessary, is the thing that plagues his mind at night even as Y/n’s voice puts him to sleep.

🏎️

There’s a nagging in Y/n’s brain that pushes her to get out from under the covers of her bed and find her desk in the dark of the night. She sits in the chair with a creak before opening her laptop and the random browser she’s had tabs open in for days on end.

Her fingers however over the keys before typing in a dreaded question of truth.

“Robert Dancing.” She whispers as she presses enter and the screen begins to load. Her stomach churns and her eyes whip away, too scared to look. What would she do if nothing came up? What if Annie was right? What if Bob wasn’t who she thought he was after all?

But, then, his voice calls her back to the safety of her blind trust as it rings throughout her brain. He seems too nice to be what Annie had thought him to be. Bob is who she thinks he is, he has to be.

Her gaze takes one more look at the picture of her and Annie on her nightstand before she turns her head fully to find out her fate.

A blank screen with the haunting words, “Sorry, we couldn’t find what you were looking for.” stares back at her. For a moment, she thinks she must’ve spelled his name wrong and she tries multiple, very clearly wrong, versions of what his name could be in an attempt to console the last of hope dwindling out of her body.

Bob. A name in her mouth that now means nothing takes on what she had originally thought it had been. A fake name.

This can’t be, she thinks. There has to be some logical explanation. But, then again, Robert Dancing is not a typical name, something should come up for a server who lives in Monaco. A link to his social media would’ve shown. He’s young and living in Europe, there would be a trace of him.

Robert Dancing does not exist.

🏎️

Unknown

Y/n, you never called me back. Is everything okay?

Y/n

Everything is fine.

Unknown

Can I call you now?

Y/n

I’m busy.

Unknown

It’s been three days and I haven’t heard from you at all. Seriously, are you okay?

Unknown

Y/n, answer me. What’s going on?

Y/n

Stop messaging me.

Her body jolts in surprise when her phone rings aggressively against the desk at her work. She looks around sheepishly at her staring coworkers before grabbing the loud device and walking outside. The moment the door shuts behind her, she answers.

Bob speaks so quickly, “Y/n, what’s going on?”

She stares at the skyline, trying to find peace in the view, “What’s your name?”

Bob is quiet, “Robert Dancing. You know this.”

“No, I don’t. What’s your name?” She tries again, anger in her voice and sadness deep in her soul.

“Bob.” He states, breaking her heart once more.

Y/n scoffs, “I know that’s not your name. If you don’t start telling me the truth right now, I will hang up and block you.”

A door closes on his side and she hears him take a breath, “Okay, okay. Don’t do that. How’d you find out?”

A dry laugh leaves her mouth, mixed with astonishment, “Do you think I’m stupid?! You gave me what was supposed to be your full name, so I searched you up. Choose a name that actually comes up next time, yeah?”

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. You told me you would never think I meant malice by my actions. That should apply here.” He tries, but she just shakes her head.

“That was back when I thought I knew at least your name. Who ever are you? Do you even live in Monaco? Was any of it true?” She cries, somewhat surprised at the tears that have appeared.

He sounds disappointed, “Yes, it all was. I do live in Monaco and I have three other siblings. My parents are still married. All the things I told you were true, my doubts and insecurities. That wasn’t fake, Y/n.”

She pulls herself together, not ready to break down for a man so cruel, and wipes her tears, “What’s your name?”

“Y/n, I-”

She interrupts, determined, “What’s your name?”

A build up manifests from the silence he lets go on before he answers her dying question, “Lando Norris.”

Part of her was expecting him to say a name she would’ve recognized, but no part of her has any reaction to him. His name is just another one she wished to have been able to connect to another human being.

He takes her silence for realization and his body slumps against the wall behind him. Part of him knows she won’t, but another part worries she’ll take their situation and everything he’s told her to the press.

What she says next completely contradicts everything he built up in his head, “You act like that’s supposed to mean anything to me.”

With that, she hangs up the phone.

—

Annie and Y/n haven’t spoken since their fight a week ago, but the betrayal of it is pushed aside when Annie opens the door to find Y/n crying at her door.

No words are shared, Annie understands, and Y/n is ushered into the home, coaxed by her best friend to sit on the couch.

“What happened?” She whispers, her hand rubbing over Y/n’s back. Annie hates to see her best friend in such brokenness, even in a moment where she could tell her I told you so. That would do no one good, Annie knows that. Y/n doesn’t need to be proven wrong right now, she needs someone to sit with her when no one else seemingly won’t.

A sharp intake of breath and Y/n speaks, “He wasn’t who he said he was. Robert Dancing doesn’t exist. His actual name is Lando Norris. As if that means anything. Why would he lie?”

Annie cocks her head because it doesn’t make sense. Why would he lie? Lying about your life to make it seem more interesting than it was would make sense, but to blatantly lie completely about your identity? That didn’t make sense.

“Have you searched him up? Maybe it’s supposed to mean something?” She tries, genuinely lost at the situation.

Y/n shakes her head, tears falling to her lap as she hangs her head, “If I do and I see him, I don’t want to know. I already like him too much and that makes this hurt more than it should. If I see him, learn who he truly is, I’m scared I’ll never be able to let him go.”

Annie frowns, part of her wants to know about the man that put her friend in such a state. But, it’s not what Y/n needs as she cries on the beige couch. Her head fits in the crook of Annie’s shoulder as the girl turns on mindless TV for her friend.

Still, though, Annie knew she would find herself investigating Lando Norris later when Y/n fell asleep.

—

It’s ironic how similar Y/n and Annie look when they scour the internet for information about a specific man. Annie has a bit of blanket pulled over her lap as Y/n hogs the majority of it, the rise and fall of her chest a telltale sign of needed slumber.

The face of Lando Norris stares back at her as she tries to think of this man calling her best friend at night, asking questions no one has before. He seemed bubbly in the few moments she spoke to him and when she clicks on a video of him in an interview, she knows immediately it's him. His voice is distinct as it speaks through a clear microphone. There were no lies in his second confession to Y/n.

From what she can tell, he’s a beloved member of the Formula One community, a sport she had never truly looked into because she assumed it was overrated. So, did Y/n. The off chance that Lando texted a random person and found something more with them, he lucked out that that someone was clueless when it came to the sport that made him famous.

Her breathing stops when she finds a video that titles Lando’s supposed telling of a woman he’s taken a liking to. The date of the video tells her it’s within the time frame of him and Y/n.

She glances at her sleeping best friend before clicking the link, his smiling face large on her screen.

Lando’s giggle is sweet, “Yeah, I guess you could say I’ve found someone. Or, at least, have a crush. This girl and I are definitely not official, but there’s something there, I think we can both feel it. I’ve never felt so free with someone.”

The reporter, out of view from the watcher, coos, “That’s great, Lando! What’s her name?”

Lando gives the man a warning glance as he states authoritatively, “I won’t be handing that information right now.”

He clutches the microphone and Annie can see the way his body shifts with protectiveness. If anything, this is exactly the kind of way she had always wanted Y/n to be treated. Protected and cherished. From what she could gather, from the deepdive of articles and the stories Y/n had told, Lando did just that.

Her heart aches. A stupid man tried to protect himself whilst falling in love with a woman that never even knew who he was. They were never even given a chance.

Somehow, in a black out of pure sadness for Y/n who had always yearned to be adored in this way, Annie found herself buying a ticket to the next Grand Prix, Silverstone of all places.

With a crappy seat and no plan or guarantee of finding him, Annie knew she had to find Lando. She had to fight for something that wasn’t even hers.

🏎️

The commotion of fans surrounding the entrance to the paddock puts Annie on edge, not to mention the size of the crowd. She thought she got here early, wanting to be at the front so she could try and talk to him, but as she sees the large amount of people between her and the path where the drivers walk, hope diminishes. Still, she pushes through everyone, apologizing when she gets dirty looks. She knows how bad this looks, how much this most likely goes against common courtesy at races such as these. The face of Y/n with bloodshot eyes and a puffy face forces her to persevere, her best friend deserves someone like Lando.

She’s halfway through the crowd when it roars to life, screams emitting as people begin to stick McLaren hats and posters in the air. From the sliver of light she can see through some bodies, Annie watches Lando begin to walk through. He stops to sign for some fans and she pushes more forcefully, knowing this is her only chance.

He moves through it all with grace, but a certain speed that makes her heart pick up. He’s at the front of the crowd, about to step into the paddock and be lost completely to her when she yells, “Lando! It’s Annie!”

It’s the first thing that she can think of, hoping he’ll be reminded of Y/n’s voice when she tried to cover for her best friend’s moment of protection. Annie watches him pause, turn around slowly, as his eyes roam over the sea of people. He locks eyes with her as she waves her arms in the air, something passes between them and he begins running toward her. A connection to the woman he let down, one he hadn’t stopped thinking of in the weeks she had left him.

When he reaches her, Lando is stunned by her presence. “You’re Annie? Like Y/n’s Annie?” He whispers, the people around her screaming for his signature as she nods her head.

“Y/n’s Annie.” He looks to be fighting tears as he ushers a security guard over. “I need you to escort her into the paddock, to my driver’s room.”

The large man nods and Lando walks off, nodding at Annie gratefully. Once he’s gone from the premises, the guard moves the rope keeping people from bombarding the drivers up and lets her through.

The walk to wherever Lando had ordered is quiet as Annie takes in the money that surrounds her. People with Cartier jewelry and Birkens waltz around with an air to them that allows Annie to suddenly understand Lando. This is what he was afraid of. A greedy woman who would take advantage of the status he had and lie to him to get to his money and the money around him. While she understood, however, she still felt angry at his deceiving. Y/n was never given the benefit of the doubt.

The guard knocks on Lando’s door and it swings open, his sunken face coming into view and in the new light, Annie can see the love that Lando had found in her best friend. The effect of her leaving him is seen all over his body and from what she could gather during her time looking into him, he wasn’t doing as well as he usually had during races.

He motions for her to come in and when she does, the door closed, he begins talking, “Did Y/n send you here? Is she here? Can I talk to her? Does she want to see me? Is she forgiving me? Are you-”

Her heart breaks as she interrupts him and his quick anticipation of a reconciliation is crushed, “None of that is true. I’m here on my own terms. Y/n doesn’t know I’m here. At this point in time, she doesn’t want to see you, but I think that’s the shock of finding out about you.. That will wear off eventually. She’s hurt, Lando, but I also know she hates not talking to you. She hasn’t stopped talking about you. And I can’t stand to know that you two found something she’s always deserved, but let it slip away because of fears and betrayals.”

He sits opposite of her, staring at her and trying to find the answers he wants to hear in her eyes. He never does.

Lando rubs his palms over his eyes, “I never even got her last name. There was no way for me to find her.”

“Y/n Y/l/n.”

He lifts his head slowly, “What?”

At the look in his eyes, Annie smiles, “Y/n Y/l/n. That’s her last name. Actually, her full name, I guess.”

A small grin finds its way to Lando’s face and the way he touches his mouth lightly makes her think he hasn’t smiled in a while. “Y/n Y/l/n,” He whispers, smile widening as it all falls from his lips.

He’s even in love with her name, Annie thinks.

“Can you take me to her? I would like to be given the opportunity to fight for her.” He asks hesitantly, as if Annie hasn’t made it abundantly clear that she is here to help.

She nods, “I will tell you where to meet her, but first, I need you to tell me everything from the beginning, from your perspective.”

Lando’s head hangs and he begins, hands wringing together in his lap, “When I first texted her, I thought she was my friend, Daniel.”

“Daniel Ricciardo?” She asks, clarification needed for this story.

Lando’s eyebrows rise, “You know the sport?”

She shakes her head, “No, both Y/n and I never got into it because we didn’t think it was that exciting - sorry - but, I basically learned everything about your life and Formula One when Y/n told me your name.”

He nods and continues, “Well, yes, I thought she was Daniel Ricciardo, we were supposed to be meeting for lunch that day to just catch up before starting the new season. Well, as it turns out, he had changed his phone number over break because it leaked and never told anyone that he wasn’t needing to contact immediately during that time. I assume Y/n must’ve gotten a new number around the time because she got his.”

Annie thinks back before realizing Y/n had shattered her phone in the weeks before and ended up getting an entire new cell phone profile. New number, email, everything. She had said she liked the clean slate.

At her nodding, Lando talks once more, “When she sent me the picture of her, I immediately thought she was one of the most beautiful people I had ever seen in my entire life. That’s cliche, but it’s true. She’s still so beautiful to me. Um,” He shakes his head, tears having pooled in his eyes at the mention of her beauty, “I knew I wanted to keep talking to her, see where it went because I couldn’t just stop talking to her and never knew what could’ve been. So, I made a quick, impulsive decision. I lied about who I was because I just wanted her to treat me normally. I had no idea who she was or her morals, I couldn’t guarantee that she would treat me like everyone else. Obviously, when I learned of who she was and the deep parts of her that no one else got to see, I wanted to change it all. I wanted to tell her so many times who I was and what I wanted with her, what I saw with her, but I knew if I did, I would just lose her. So, I tried to find ways to keep talking to her, but also slowly introduce the truth. Clearly, I never found a way. When you called me, demanding my address and full name I panicked and didn’t think about what would happen if I said what was supposed to be my full name. You’re very scary, you know.” He chuckles, Annie does with him, “So, it all fell from there. She found out Robert Dancing was something entirely fabricated and she called me, telling me to tell her the truth. I was backed into a corner and everything I wanted, I needed, left me. That moment is ingrained in my brain.”

He breathes slowly, his eyes still on his hands, before whispering, “I miss her.”

Annie nods, “I know. So does she. That’s why you need to go to this address,” She hands him a small paper, “Meet her there on Monday at 7 PM, come prepared to tell her all of that and more.”

He clutches the paper like it’s his last lifeline and Annie smiles at how important Y/n is to him.

Lando glances up at her, “What do you mean by more?”

Annie continues to smile lightly, “That you love her. That you need her. That you’re sorry. Lando, remind her of what you two had.”

🏎️

The small apartment complex is daunting to Lando as he stands in front of it. Annie never told him where he was going or what he would be met with, but considering he’s here to see Y/n, he can only assume the building he stares at is her home. His anxiety only spikes. He does not want to mess up again. He doesn’t want to taint her home with even more pain, he thinks to himself, images of himself groveling and begging for her forgiveness flashing in his mind’s eye.

Nonetheless, he knows if he backs out, Annie would find his address this time and physically harm him.

So, the boy walks to the gate and rings her neighbor, following Annie’s instructions closely. He remembered how she told him if he rang Y/n, she wouldn’t let him in, being stubborn and all. Though, if he rang the neighbor, an older woman Annie called Lo, he had a chance.

“Hello? I’m here to see Y/n.” He said into the rusty speaker, a questionable smell infiltrating his nose.

A crackling sound emits from it before Lo is speaking back to him, “Are you Robert Dancing? Annie told me you would be coming.”

Lando laughs at the name, his random ideas being the reason for it, and murmurs a yes to her. She doesn’t say anything back, just a loud buzzing noise that tells him the door is unlocked.

When he walks through, part of him groans at the lack of an elevator. For an athlete, the man is lazy.

Thus, he begins his scale to the top floor, cursing himself for falling in love with someone who lives so high up.

He’s almost completely lost to his thoughts that he doesn’t realize Y/n’s door stands in his way once his feet hit the doormat. It dawns on him the time has come to meet her in person, having never before. It should be studied, he thinks, how he’s fallen in love with her without ever truly seeing her.

He knocks on the door, not wasting time before he truly aborts whatever mission he’s found himself on. And his heart soars when he hears her yell, “Coming!”

He’s only ever heard it over the phone. To hear it feet away from him is almost as exciting as the idea of her forgiving him.

The door unlocks and pulls open, revealing Y/n in a matching set of pajamas that he remembers her texting him about, asking if they were a stupid purchase or not. He told her to get them, she told him probably not, that she was poor, but she still had.

Her eyes land on him and he’s ready for whatever screaming he’s about to endure, but she just smiles at him.

“Hi! Can I help you with anything?” She acts as if she doesn’t recognize him and Lando realizes she doesn’t. Annie had mentioned something about Y/n becoming disinterested in seeing who he truly was, out of fear of becoming too attached. His mind must’ve not genuinely absorbed that information because he only understands it now.

She doesn’t know who he is.

He could do the same thing he had before, lie and tell her he’s someone else. Take the safer option and secure her love, but he takes a breath instead and remembers all Annie had told him. He’d already put her through so much, to do it again would be cruel.

“Y/n, I’m Lando.” He says while he watches her face fall.

Her hands fly to the door, about to slam it on his face, but he sticks his foot in right before she can. The impact hurts, but he continues with what he had practiced so many times on the way here.

“Please, Y/n, just hear me out.” He pleads as her cheeks fill with red. He’s almost sure it isn’t a blush.

“How’d you even get my address?” She says, astonished at who stands before her. Her eyes fall over his body, trying to understand the information. Who he is, what he wants.

“Annie.” He whispers, knowing her confusion will only heighten more.

Her mouth falls open and she yells, “ANNIE?!”

What he believes to be Lo, pops out from her behind her door at the yelling and Lando lowers his head.

“Can I come in? We shouldn’t have this conversation in the hallway of your complex.” He rubs a hand over the back of his neck, hoping she’ll agree. When she does, opening the door for him slowly, he flies forward. While he was ecstatic to be given another chance, he still fears for his image and what would be speculated about a seemingly heated conversation between him and another woman.

She guides him to the couch and they sit down. A familiar creak sounds that reminds him of the ones he would hear when they got into deep conversation during their nighttime calls. The image of her on the phone with him, concentration on her face as she listened to whatever he was revealing and getting comfortable on her sofa, makes him smile softly.

“Bo- I mean, Lando, you need to start talking. I don’t have all the time in the world to listen.” She gives, her tone ice cold. However, the break in it when she realizes she’s said his former, fake name makes the anger he felt over his lies further. He wants her to say his name, the real one. He wants her to say it with love and excitement, not distance. He wants her and his name on her lips.

“I never meant to hurt you. Actually, what I did was in an attempt to shield myself from any kind of bad faith. I didn’t expect to develop what he did. I didn’t even expect to open up to you in the way I did. I thought I could make a friend, one who didn’t know who I was and didn’t have any kind of bias toward me. I’ve always wanted that with someone, especially a partner. I saw an opportunity and I took it, not thinking through it all and I hurt you in the process. I’m so sorry, Y/n. From the moment we started truly talking, calling and all, I knew I had messed up, but I never found a way to tell you. Well, a way to tell you that wouldn’t result in you getting rid of me. I wish I could take it all back, but not you. Not what I got to experience with you, what I felt with you. You’re my favorite memory and you’ll never understand how grateful I am for you. You helped me through bad races even when you didn’t know, helped me through weird press interactions when you didn’t know. I loved that. I loved how at peace you made me feel. I can’t let this go without knowing I gave it everything I have and when Annie showed up at Silverstone, telling me I had to fight for you, I took whatever she had to give.”

Y/n stares at him, trying to digest it all, and murmurs, “Annie went to Silverstone?”

He chuckles lightly, “Yes, she came and she told me who she was, what she was doing there. She told me she knew what we had and she didn’t want you to lose something you’ve always deserved. She gave me this address and told me to come here at this time, told me to buzz Lo instead of you so I could come in. She told me I needed to remind you of what we had.”

Y/n goes red again, blushing this time. She smiles at the idea of Annie going to great lengths just to make her happy, “Annie sounds determined.”

Lando smiles along with her, “She was. She told me if I didn’t fight for you, she’d find me and kill me. She’s really scary, Y/n.”

Their eyes meet and Y/n is reminded of what once was, the way he made her feel. She misses him and knowing the intricate shade of brown in his eyes doesn’t help how much she wants to shut him out.

“I understand why you did what you did, but that doesn’t make it any better. You could’ve given up everything you were saying at any point in time and you didn’t. You only told me when I confronted you with it.” She whispers, disappointment evident in her voice. She plays with her fingers and Lando is close to taking them in his hand.

He nods, “I get that. But, I was scared to tell you because I was just so in love with you. I still am.”

Her eyes snap to his and a moment passes before she asks, “Still am? You love me?”

His cheeks turn cherry tomato, “Yes, of course, I am. The moment I realized you were safe enough to open up to, knowing my identity or not, I was in love with you.”

She groans and lets her face fall to her palms, “But, I’m in love with you too.”

He laughs and shakes his head, “Why is that a bad thing?”

Her eyes peek from over her hands, “Because I want to hate you.”

Finally, his fingers lace with hers as he brings them away from her face, “But, you love me. Isn’t that enough?”

She knows it is. He knows it is. Annie knows it is, even if she isn’t there. It’s a matter of if Y/n can put aside the grand web of lies he put together to let them have their shot at something that could be wonderful. In the warmth of his presence, she thinks she can.

🏎️

Y/n

Can you stop blowing up my phone

Bob <3

Why????? I’m bored baby

Y/n

im at work girly

Bob <3

girly 🤭🫶🏻🤗 plz go out to the balcony and answer me

Y/n

I think you might be obsessed with me

Bob <3

i made an alter ego so i could talk to you didn’t i?

Y/n

girl

She picks up his call as she closes the door behind her, the new office building she’s in allowing for a wider view of London. The new team she works with is less competitive than the last and their support is proving beneficial with the news she got today.

“My beloved girlfriend, are you free for lunch today?” Lando giggles into the speaker like the lovesick man he is. Y/n can hear Oscar make fun of him in the background.

She smiles, “I thought you were bored?”

“Yes, so now I’m asking if you want to have lunch with me” He answers as if it’s obvious. In the months after the soft moment shared between Lando and Y/n on her old couch, they’ve found something more than love between them. Lando says it’s destiny and Y/n says it’s a soulmate tie, but they agree that the love they once shared over the phone only grew once in person.

Y/n chuckles at his antics, “Sure, I will have lunch with you, Lan. Can you come pick me up though? I don’t want to drive.”

Lando makes a noise, “What did you think I was going to do? Make you drive yourself? No way. There’s one person in this relationship that drives cars professionally and it’s not you, sweetheart. Sorry to break it to you.”

Oliver, her coworker, comes to the door, asking for her assistance on something with a smile. She tells him she’ll be a minute and he nods, retreating back into the office quietly, “Sorry, my love. I need to go. But, you’ll be here when?”

Lando hums, “An hour?”

“Perfect! Oh, and, Lando?” She asks, her voice filled with joy as he responds, “You’ll have to come to the Junior VP’s office to pick me up.”

Silence is met with her sentence before Lando whispers, “Either I’m stupid and you have some big project I forgot about or you’re trying to tell me something that will actually make me lose my mind and sanity right now.”

She laughs loudly, “I got Junior VP, Lan. Youngest one yet.”

He shrieks, momentarily making Y/n go deaf, before screaming to everyone around him about his girlfriend’s achievement, “I’m so proud of you, baby! Oh my god! I’m so happy! We need to buy champagne! You can have your own podium moment! Holy shit, I’m so proud!”

“I would love that, Lan. Thank you. I love you.” She whispers the last part softly, three words that mean so much.

He’ll never get tired of hearing her speak of her love for him, “I love you too, Y/n.”

She’d never get tired of saying it.

[thoughts-of-bear]

The birthday gift

A Halsin x reader fanfiction | Explicit, 18+ | 7k words A/N: Okay since the Halsin brainrot has had its hold on me for ages, I started this fic on my birthday in december, not expecting to ever finish it because I have literally never finished anything I've started writing before- until now. I got inspired to write this by this post (for the birthday part, the smut part is my own horny imagination) and well, this is the final product. Since it's my first time publishing any of my writing and writing smut at all, please be kind with me XD Summary: Your companions prepare a surprise birthday party for you, Halsin sees you in your new dress, you two dancing leads to him confessing his feelings for you and a very happy ending... CW: halsin x f!reader, virgin reader, halsin eating pussy, fingering, p in v sex, breeding, rough sex i guess, halsin being the man he is, all that stuff idk what to write here really

I hope you enjoy it, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3

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You and your companions had finally reached Baldur’s Gate. It’s still morning when you enter Rivington that day and the streets are busy with all kinds of people, many seemingly refugees from Elturel and farther away, here to find shelter in the city. As you continue down the road to the village in front of the city gates, you are stopped by a little red-headed girl.

“Erm. ‘Scuse me, I can’t find my mum.” She looks worn out and as if she has recently been crying.

“Where did you last see her?” you ask as you bend down to her, smiling to show you want to help.

“She went to go get some herbs - for her spots” she gestures towards her face. “She was sick. And she was supposed to come back the same day.” She pauses before adding, “That was last tenday though.”

“Let’s go find a guard. They’ll be able to help you”, you propose.

The girl shakes her head. “Guards blow like petards. They don’t help us.”

Your heart sinks at these words. It seems all these people were here because the city wouldn’t take them in. And the guards are no help either, apparently. You wonder what happened to your city, where once everyone was welcome.

Halsin sighs and shakes his head in disapproval. “This city is a poor place to be in need of help. Even the guards can’t be trusted to protect the most vulnerable.”

You silently agree and think of how you could help that girl. You decide to spare a few coins, so she can buy herself some food.

“I don’t know where your mum is, but here - take a few coins”, you offer her, not able to tell her that her mother is most likely dead. Halsin smiles at you warmly as you shoot him a quick glance, the sight making your heart skip a beat.

“Oh - erm. Thank you so much! I don’t have anything and you can’t do anything without any coin”, the little girl exclaims, bobbing on her toes and suddenly looking a little less tired. “I’ll pay you back. When I find my mum.” She turns around and bolts. “No need, it’s a gift!” you call after her but she has already vanished in the crowd.

You finally arrive at Wyrm’s Rock Crossing in the evening, after you had snuck past one of the new city guards - the so-called Steel Watch - and promised to investigate the murder of the local Ilmater priest. Another incident that seems to fuel the hate towards the refugees.

And that isn’t even all. The city is closed, even for you as a Baldurian, and to get in you’d need an Admission Pass - or wings. You sigh. You just want to get into the city, rent a room in the Elfsong and think about what to do next, now that the Absolute’s army must soon be upon the city.

It’s all too much and too little time. And you can’t just turn away from the people you met in Rivington either, they need help just as much as you need to find out how to beat the Absolute’s Chosen and get rid of the tadpoles.

When you make your way around camp that evening, checking up on your companions, Halsin notices your exhaustion, the way you slump your shoulders and how your usually impeccable stance falters. He wants to relieve you of at least a bit of the tension, so when you walk over to him, he offers you a massage. The things he wants to say to you can wait until tomorrow.

“Thank you, Halsin”, you accept, his hands turning you around and gently pushing you down to sit on your knees before him. You sigh as his broad hands knead the tension from your back and by the time he is finished, you feel like a sleepy, boneless lump of flesh, muscles completely relaxed. You thank Halsin again before you retire to your bedroll, the hopeful thought that the offer might’ve been more than Halsin’s usual kindness crossing your mind before you drift off to sleep.

The next evening, you were finally inside the city walls. You consider the new information of the day. How you got your hands on an invitation to the celebration at Wyrm’s rock fortress, your disbelief to see that it was Lord Gortash’s coronation as Arch Duke, how he made the tadpoled Duke Ravengard give up his power and how Bane’s Chosen then proposed an alliance against Orin, the shapeshifter that had already approached you in Rivington. You had agreed to kill her, but you definitely wouldn’t leave Gortash his Netherstone. But that is a problem for another day. You had managed to get a room in the Elfsong Tavern and as usual you make your way through it to hear what your companions think of all that had happened today. Most approve of your decision. Halsin is the last person you speak to and as always, he has just the right words to ease your worries. For now, at least.

“Wait-”, he grabs your arm before you can leave. “I didn’t thank you yet.” His large hand is warm and makes your skin tingle where it touches you.

“Thank me? For what?” He chuckles at your puzzled look. “For all that you did in Rivington yesterday. You have so many worries and yet you still go out of your way to help those in need. The way you made that little girl smile, or how you didn’t hesitate to investigate what happened to that Ilmater priest.” A blush creeps up your cheeks as he continues. “I’m afraid Nature’s balance can never be restored in a city like this, but seeing what you do every day without expecting anything in return gives me hope. And for that I thank you.” You smile up at him, lost for words with your heart beating fast.

“I appreciate you saying this. I wish I could to more, to help everyone, but if I can at least do a little good, it’s worth the exhaustion at the end of the day”, you eventually admit with a smile. Halsin grins. “You’re too modest. I wager you don’t even know how extraordinary you truly are.” Your cheeks blush an even deeper red at those words and only when you retire to bed for the evening does your heart resume its normal pace again. But the warm feeling Halsin’s presence gave you remained for the night.

After you had the first proper breakfast since your crash with the Nautiloid, you feel ready to explore the city and find out how to best deal with all your problems. You hadn’t particularly missed the bustle and noise of your old home, but you can’t help feeling safer now that you were in familiar surroundings again.

Gale proposed to go to Sorcerous Sundries, both to find out more about the Elderbrain’s crown and to see what the wizard there wants with your companion Nightsong. Since you don’t have an idea where to find Orin yet, you figure that this is as good as any other thing you could be doing. 

The way from Elfsong to the magic shop isn’t far and you still have some time before it opens, so you decide to stop by the Baldur’s Mouth Gazette to update yourself on any news you had missed in your absence and struggle with the Absolute.

Scanning the title page, you notice the date in the corner and your brows shoot up in surprise. Noticing this, Gale asks if you found anything important in the newspaper.

“No, it’s just that I realised today is my birthday and I've completely forgotten about it. That means we have been on the road for more than two months already”, you wonder aloud before you add, “It doesn’t feel that long.”

“Well, then we have to celebrate of course!” Gale exclaims happily. You smile at his enthusiasm but shake your head. “We have bigger problems for now. Let’s see what this Lorroakan wants with Dame Aylin and then get on with our business. Besides,” you shrug, “we didn’t celebrate birthdays in my monastery anyways so I won’t miss anything.”

“If you say so,” Gale replies and you turn your attention back towards the page you were studying before.

You had already forgotten about the conversation as you come into your chamber in the Elfsong, grateful for the few minutes alone during the bath you had taken and the respite for your tired body.

But the moment you enter the room, Karlach and Shadowheart drag you to a set dinner table, laden with the most delicious food you could imagine. There aren’t your ordinary fish heads and the mouldy bread you usually have to call supper, instead delicious smelling pork roasts, pies, glazed carrots and potatoes, deep red apples and more pile atop the table, all lovingly placed around a huge flower bouquet in the middle of it.

You are so overwhelmed by the amount of work your friends must’ve put into this, that you can only stutter a ‘thank you’ before Karlach announces, “Happy birthday soldier! Halsin, Gale and Shadowheart here told us that today is your birthday and you never had a proper party before, so we decided to prepare you a little something!” With a grin she gestures from the table to one of the unoccupied beds, where a few packages are placed.

“You brought me presents too? You really didn’t have to!” you exclaim in surprise. You are so touched that your friends -among all the trouble- still found time to prepare the presents and this party for you that you feel tears well up in your eyes.

“Darling, no need to cry,” Astarion laughs as he pushes you onto your designated chair. “This is a party and not a funeral! Go ahead and enjoy yourself, it’s your special day after all!”

With a sniff and a small chuckle at Astarion’s words you sit down properly. He is right, of course, and you all clearly enjoy having a small break from the worries you faced at the moment.

Smiling hesitantly, you grab some meat and vegetables and start to eat - it really is delicious. You revel in the laughter and conversations with your friends, your weariness from todays fight forgotten for the moment.

When all of you can’t possibly eat any more, Karlach drags you over to the bed with the presents. You can tell she is excited to see if you like the few things your companions managed to get you in the time they had for preparing, so you start unpacking.

The first present contains a book on the monastery you were raised in, with a handwritten note from Gale:

“I’m sure you already know most information this book has to offer, but I thought it might still bring you comfort and remind you of home.” You thank him with a tight hug and carefully place the book into your bag.

The next package is a bottle of the finest liquor of the Elfsong Tavern, plus a sparkler for every one of your companions which Karlach sets of immediately.

Laughing at her shenanigans, you reach for the last and biggest present. It is wrapped in red paper and decorated with a little white bow. You wonder where your companions had managed to find all those things while you carefully pull the paper open. Soon a dress falls out of the packaging and you gaze at it in awe. Your fingers trace the deep forest green fabric, intricate silver and gold patterns weaved into it.

“This is beautiful, thank you, truly!” you say earnestly. You still can’t quite believe that all this should be for you. “I thought you would like it”, smiles Shadowheart. “And I’m certain it will suit you beautifully. Go now - try it on!” she urges you.

You walk to the bathroom which still smells of the quince-scented soap you had used for your bath a few hours before. While changing, you bask in that warm feeling in your chest these moments among your friends always grant you. Whatever problems you had encountered, in your opinion they have all been worth it just for the people you found and let into your heart along the way. As cheesy as that sounds.

You regard yourself in the mirror. The dress is cut low and close-fitting, capturing your cleavage in a very flattering way. Maybe too flattering, if you think about it too much. This isn’t something you’d usually wear, but you have to admit that you like the way the dress looks on you. A bit insecure you go back into your room, where you are greeted with approving cheers and whistles from your friends.

“You look absolutely stunning”, Shadowheart admires. “I knew it would look good on you! Turn around please”, she commands. You do what you are told, with red cheeks at the compliment.

When you face Shadowheart again, you notice Halsin gazing at you with pure admiration - and something else you can’t quite place. You think you notice a golden shimmer in his eyes, but that could be a trick of the light considering all the candles in the room.

“I must admit, your neck looks very tempting in that dress but I know someone who is a lot hungrier for you than me right now”, Astarion remarks with a wicked grin and a sideward glance. You frown at him, though you can’t help your heart skipping a beat at these words. Could he possibly mean Halsin?

“Now, what would a party be without some music and dance?” Wyll interrupts your thoughts and as if these words have summoned her, the bard the party had met in the druid grove appears in the doorway.

“Alfira!” you exclaim happily and immediately rush over to hug her. “I’m so glad you got to Baldur’s Gate alright!”

Alfira grins at you. “Yes, thanks to you and your friends here. When they reached out to me today and told me it was your birthday, I just had to come! Wyll organised everything.” You nod to him in thanks. “Now, I don’t have anything to give you but just tell me what you want to hear and I will play it for you!”

“Thanks, Alfira, that’s more than enough for me”, you beam and lead her into the room towards your group. “Wyll, now is your chance to show me your dancing!” You say as you take his hand and pull him into the middle of the room, then you grab Karlach and Gale and start to move to the tune Alfira started to play. Karlach swirls you around and Wyll shows you the dance moves from court, which -to be honest- remind you a bit of the mating dances you had seen with a few bird species.

Out of breath from all the dancing and laughing, you request a slower tune from the tiefling bard. You manage to persuade Shadowheart to put away her wine for a moment and start to waltz around the room with her. She is quite the good dancer and you wonder where she had learned it, with her being raised in a Sharran temple and everything.

At the next tune, you approach Halsin. With your head light from the wine, you have finally gathered the courage to ask him for what you have secretly thought about the whole time.

Still, you can feel your heart beating in your throat. “Erm…Halsin, w-would you honour me with a dance?” you eventually manage to mumble out shyly.

“Of course, little flower. Whatever your heart desires.” That particular heart skips a beat at his intimate tone. “Although you might wish you hadn’t asked me that once you’ve seen my dancing”, he adds with a chuckle as he takes your hand.

He leads you into the room and starts to swirl you around to the melody of Alfira’s lute. He definitely isn’t as graceful as Shadowheart but certainly not as bad as he has made it sound. But even if he’d had the dancing skills of a bugbear, you wouldn’t have noticed. His large and warm hand around your waist and the smile with which he regards you sends your pulse through the ceiling. His smell of pine and honey and fresh air intoxicates you and it is hard to keep your feet from getting tangled in your dress.

When he leans down to you, you have to remind yourself to keep breathing. “Before you go and mingle again, I still have a present for you. I wasn’t sure if you would even like it”, he admits, “but I have decided to give it to you anyways.” When the tune ends, he leads you to the space in your room where his bed stands and bends down to search his pack.

You think about how long it took you to realise how attracted you are to the druid as you admire his strong back before you. Of course, you have noticed his kindness and compassion and you have always marvelled at the way he drew strength from nature. But only since you had some kind of break these last days have you begun to understand the depth of your affection for the man before you. It runs deeper than mere friendship and the echo of his hands on your back have awoken a hunger inside you that only grows stronger the more you look at Halsin. How desperately you hope that he feels the same way about you…

When he stands up to turn around, you quickly brush away the thought that has sent the heat into your cheeks again.

“You’re the only one who knows of my secret passion”, he begins jokingly, “so I thought you might accept this as my present for your special day.” He hands you a small whittled duck he has apparently made in the hours you were away from camp. You can’t help but tear up at the thought of how much effort he has put into all the details he has carved. There are even small webbed feet on the underside of the little duck.

“Thank you Halsin, this is an amazing gift!” You smile down at the little duck. “You are amazing”, you add quietly.

“With all that you have done for me, I should be the one thanking you night and day.” As you look into his eyes again you see that his gaze is now very solemn. “There was another reason for wanting to speak to you privately. I have lived a very long time. I have taken many lovers. My heart does not stir lightly. But it does now.” Your heart flutters in recognition of his words, the confession sending sparks across your skin.

“I want more than to fight at your side, or to sit around the campfire with you. I want to lay with you under the stars and feel your skin against mine.” Halsin’s gaze on you is intense, filling your chest with a burning heat that slowly spreads lower into your belly, as if the wine you have been drinking suddenly caught on fire inside of you.

Halsin continues, “I think you feel the same way - but tell me I’m wrong and the matter can rest. I do not wish to sour our friendship, but I have to know if it can be something more.”

You stare at him for a moment before you realise that he waits for your answer.

“Y-you’re not wrong, far from it”, you whisper. “I would like that very much.” You smile up at him and he takes your hand in his.

“May I kiss you?” he breathes out, relieved. You nod and he bends down to gently press his lips on yours.

His hand slides up your arm and to your back while he places his other behind your head, gently pulling you closer and deepening the kiss.

You feel his tongue prodding at your lips, demanding entrance and you happily oblige. The feeling of his soft lips on yours sends you spiralling and you can’t stifle the small moan that escapes you. Halsin sends out a silent prayer to Silvanus - if that is all it takes to make you moan, what sounds do you make when he finally gets to taste you? Groaning, his hand on your back slowly wanders lower, a silent question of permission in his eyes. You press your body against his as an answer, feeling the heat radiating off his chest … and lower.

Halsins hand grips your ass firmly, making you gasp, the other joining in and hoisting you up on his hips, turning you both around and pressing your back to the wall. You cannot stop the surprised squeak that escapes your lips at the sudden movement and Halsin presses his mouth on yours to stifle it.

The feeling of the growing bulge in his pants between your legs and the low moan Halsin utters before kissing you even more vigorously sends a shiver down your spine, pressure starting to build between your thighs.

In a desperate attempt to pull him closer, your hands grip Halsin’s hair, arms, everything you can reach. But before you can lose yourself in him, Halsin releases your lips, panting, and rests his forehead against yours.

“I would very much like to continue”, he whispers, his breathing ragged and voice hoarse with desire, “but the others will expect us back and I think you would probably like a bit more privacy.” He sighs and softly kisses your hair. “I will come to your bed when the party has ended, little flower. But don’t expect much sleep”, he adds with a wicked grin. You can only nod as he gently props you back on your feet.

With your head spinning, you get back to the others, averting your eyes from the knowing smirks of Astarion and Shadowheart noticing your ruffled hair and flushed cheeks. You ignore them, trying to engage in some more conversation and one or two dances while the thought of what awaits you won’t leave your head.

When the last of the party finally bids you goodnight, you hurry to bed, awaiting Halsin. You can’t get away from the echoes of his hands on your body, heart already racing again and warmth blooming in your belly. Even if he hadn’t promised you he’d come tonight, you would’ve been unable to sleep.

A soft rustle next to your ear startles you from your thoughts and as you turn your head, you could make out Halsin’s large figure in the dark, crouching beside your bed.

He cuts you off from what you wanted to say by placing a finger on your mouth, his other hand sliding under your back and pulling you into an upright position. With your heart beating into your throat, you take the hand Halsin offers as he gently beckons you to follow him into the corridor outside of the room the party shares, then further into a small but cosy bedroom on the next floor.

The door closes with a click and before you can say anything, Halsin sweeps you up into his arms, pressing you flat against the door and capturing your lips in a kiss that feels like it burns you from the inside.

Halsin’s fresh, earthy scent floods your senses as your tongues intertwine and your hands find their way into his hair, tugging at his braids. You whine when Halsin lets go of your lips, only to gasp as he starts nibbling and placing searing kisses on your jaw while his hands squeeze your ass firmly, bringing your bodies as close together as possible.

You moan at the growing ache between your thighs but plant your small fists against his shoulders anyway, gently pushing him away a bit. Halsin’s eyes, pupils wide and dark with desire, find yours.

“What is it my heart?” he asks, voice hoarse. “Do you want me to stop?” You see no disappointment in his gaze, only worry and your heart swells at how selfless your lover is. You avert your eyes, suddenly embarrassed to tell what troubles you.

“I- I j-just wanted t-to say that … um … well, I- I have never been with someone before”, you mumble eventually, averting your gaze as you blush furiously.

“Silvanus, preserve me”, Halsin groans out before almost dropping you and stumbling backwards, trying to steady himself on the small desk opposite the bed. With wide eyes you regard what is happening before you. Halsin drops to his knees, a deep animalistic growl coming from his lips as his eyes fill with golden light and he transforms into his huge bear form.

You gasp and nearly trip over your feet in an attempt to make room for the bear before you, but the animal fills almost the entire chamber. After finally regaining his composure, Halsin manages to change back into his elf form, with a snarl and a ragged breath coming from his lips.

“Forgive me. I- lost the run of myself.” He shakes his head in disgust at his outbreak, terrified that he has ruined this precious moment with you before it could properly begin, and slowly gets back to his feet. “Sometimes, when blood runs hot enough, it’s difficult to tame the beast. And the thought of you trusting me enough to share your first time with me … well, you saw what happened”, he smiles tentatively, slowly approaching you again with hesitation in his eyes.

“Don’t apologise”, you assure him with a shy smile. “I like it.” If possible, you blush even harder now. “Maybe for another time…?” you add, fidgeting nervously with the front of your dress.

A relieved grin spreads over Halsin’s face. “You like it..?”, he chuckles. “You are full of surprises, little flower.” As he steps forward, he bends down to gently plant a kiss on your cheek, only to proceed to bite at your earlobe which elicits a delicious moan from you.

“I’m glad you think so, but now you’ve made it even harder for me not to outright devour you”, his low voice whispers in your ear. “Nevertheless, I will be gentle. Or at least I’ll try to be.” You swallow hard, arousal sending shivers down your spine.

Halsin’s arms wrap around your waist again as he kisses your jaw, your forehead and nose, until eventually his lips find yours again, his tongue ravaging you like a man starving. His hands, this time directly shoving under your dress, firmly grip your thighs. He ruts against you, growling, his now rock-hard cock pressing against the confinements of his clothing.

His fingers trail higher up, kneading your ass, then stroking the soft skin of your back before slowly wandering even higher. His touch sends jolts through your body and you can feel the heat between your legs, already nearly too much to bear.

His eyes hold an unspoken question and when you nod, Halsin lifts your dress off and brings his mouth down on one of your breasts, the hand that’s not on your back now gently kneading the other, massaging the hardened nipple between his fingers. You mewl at the sensation, impossibly more pressure building between your thighs. Halsin gently bites down at your breast, only to run his tongue over it afterwards to soothe the mark he made. You moan and arch your back, desperately trying to press closer against Halsin’s still overly clothed erection, wanting to feel everything of him.

He growls and his mouth begins to place kisses down your front, between your breasts, on the soft flesh of your belly until he is on his knees before you, his warm breath fanning over you and flooding you with heat.

“More?” he asks, his pupils blown wide with lust, as his thumbs brush the soft skin between your legs. “Please”, you whine, knees almost too weak to stand and your underwear already embarrassingly soaked.

Halsin wastes no time, pressing kisses on the insides of your thighs, his one hand holding you in place and his other slowly -too slowly- sliding your panties down your legs. The sight of you bare and dripping with need before him almost makes him lose control again, makes him want to take you, devour you, fuck you, mark you and then fill you to the brim with his cum but with a groan he wills himself to calm down and be gentle with you. He won’t hurt you. He won’t.

He exhales deeply, lifting one of your legs up and slowly swiping his tongue through your wet folds, which earns him a choked gasp. His nose nudges your clit as his tongue starts stroking, slowly at first, then faster and with more pressure. You can’t help the way each expert swipe of his tongue makes your hips buck into his mouth as countless moans and sighs fall out of your mouth. Halsin growls in response, the vibrations around your sensitive bud making your legs shake. You can barely keep up and the coil in your belly is tightening ever faster with Halsin’s mouth sucking your clit and his tongue inside you.

“You are sweeter than honey, my heart”, he groans as his tongue presses flat against you. “Let me taste you as you come undone on my tongue.” With your mind clouded with lust, all you can do is moan out Halsin’s name and press yourself further against your lover’s mouth.

He understands anyway, now slowly dragging a thick finger through your dripping folds until he stops, teasingly pressing against your entrance. You whine, begging him to fill you, to do anything to release the overwhelming pressure between your thighs. When he finally thrusts into you, you can’t stifle the cry of pleasure that escapes your mouth. With Halsin’s finger now working your cunt open, his mouth continues its ministrations, licking and sucking your clit, soaking your legs with your slick.

With a wicked grin, Halsin inserts a second finger into your quivering hole, pushing inside over and over again, holding you firmly in place as you try to writhe away from the intense pleasure. His fingers coil upwards in response, hitting a spot inside you that makes you see stars.

“Please Halsin…”, you beg, toes curling and legs shaking, “I’m close- I- Oh!“

Moaning into your cunt, Halsin picks up his pace, his fingers pumping in and out of you as his tongue swipes over your clit again and again, bringing you closer to your end.

One more thrust with his fingers and a soft nip of his teeth against the sensitive bud between your legs is all it needs to send you spiralling over the edge. “Ha- Halsin!” you cry out, hips jerking violently and fingers digging into his shoulders as your orgasm hits you with the force of a lightning bolt. He moans at the sensations of your walls contracting around his fingers, the urge to take you and feel you squeeze his cock with your needy cunt almost overwhelming him.

You whine when he pulls his fingers out and stands up, bringing you in for a passionate kiss as you still struggle to regain your breath. Tasting yourself on Halsin’s tongue pulls a small moan from you and an embarrassed heat creeps up your back at the thought of how aroused you already are again.

With a smile, Halsin pulls away. “You are amazing, little flower”, he whispers breathlessly as he picks you up and gently places you on the bed, admiring your flushed body.

If Halsin’s tongue hadn’t just turned your mind to goo, you might have been able to return that compliment, but alas-

“May I go further?” Halsin asks and when you nod he swiftly discards of his clothes, you licking your lips at the sight of the elf naked before you. Your eyes take in his form, from his muscled arms down to the soft curve of his belly and- oh gods. Your eyes widen. You didn’t think he would be that big and the thought of him filling you makes you gulp down a mixture of fear and arousal.

Attentive as always, Halsin notices your insecurity and bends down to press gentle kisses against your ear. “We don’t have to do this, my heart…”, he whispers while he rubs soothing circles into your hips. He looks at you, his expression earnest. You bite your lip, thinking for a moment before answering. “N-no, I want this”, you assure him, your voice still weak but pleading now. The way you look so sweet with your little fangs on your lips makes Halsin feral and he kisses you again, desperate and more passionate this time. He groans into the kiss as he gently spreads your legs for him, lining up his tip with your dripping slit and sliding through your soft folds before stopping just at your entrance. The sensation of his hard length so close to entering you is enough to make your head fall back, eyes squeezed shut. “If it’s getting too much, tell me and I will stop immediately”, he whispers soothingly. “Now relax for me, little flower.”

All thoughts leave your head as Halsin slides in, agonizingly slow. The stretch would be painful if your lover hadn’t prepared you so thoroughly beforehand, but now you only feel pure bliss. Raising your head, you can see that he isn’t even halfway in but gods, you feel so full already that you can’t stifle the choked gasp that escapes your throat.

“You’re doing so well, my heart. Just a little bit more- mngh-!“ Halsin’s growl sends jolts through your spine as he finally bottoms out. You can see just how much effort it takes him to hold back by the way his jaw tenses and his chest is heaving.

“By Silvanus, you’re so tight-!“ A shiver crawls down his back, carrying a wave of soft golden light with it, as Halsin’s eyes light up with his magic for a moment. The thought of how you are able to bring your lover to the precipice of losing control is extremely flattering and you feel yourself clenching around Halsin’s cock, making him grunt in response. Finally somewhat accustoming to his size, you arch your back into the mattress below you. The new angle makes you moan in pleasure as you grip the sheets for support.

“Are you still feeling good, little flower?”, Halsin asks as he slides a hand from your hip under your back to support you. You can only form one thought. “More- please Halsin!” you whine desperately. You don’t have to ask twice, with a low growl he slides out - just to knock the breath out of you with his first, hard thrust. He sets a steady pace, one that leaves you moaning and gasping out his name. Halsin takes your small hands into his, pressing them into the bed beside you to pin you down, pushing into you deep and slow while he places bites and kisses on your throat and chest that will surely leave marks come morning.

Gods, Halsin thought. The sight of your small body sprawled beneath him, split apart by his thick cock while he fucks into you relentlessly is driving him insane. He is growling with every thrust now and each one of them makes you cry out in pleasure. It doesn’t take long until he has you on the precipice of release again, your cunt fluttering around Halsin’s length.

“H- halsin- please! I’m so close!” you can only beg, not sure if you can take much more, your body feeling like it might explode. “Come for me, my heart”, Halsin demands in a gravelly voice before pressing a thumb to your clit, rubbing and massaging until his name leaves your lips in a hoarse cry as your orgasm hits you with full force. Your hips jerk upwards, walls clenching around Halsin as you notice the tears from the overwhelming pleasure streaming down your face. He continues to pound into you, prolonging your release and muttering praises for you under his breath.

Through the fog in your mind you wonder how Halsin still has the energy to keep going, his pace unwavering while you are completely spent, gladly accepting whatever your lover has to give you as long as you’re not required to move.

So, you do not see it coming when Halsin suddenly pulls out of you, the unexpected emptiness making you whine in displeasure, only for him to flip you over and press your chest into the soft bedding while he gently raises your hips.

“I know it’s a lot right now but I need you to cum for me one more time, my heart”, Halsin huffs with a strained voice, pushing inside you once more and grabbing a fistful of your hair to keep you in place. The new position lets him slide even deeper than before and you can’t help the strangled cry that leaves you when Halsin starts pounding into you again, hitting a spot that makes your eyes roll back with blinding pleasure.

“’s too much- please-!” you sob, your poor overstimulated clit still trying to recover from the last orgasm. But Halsin doesn’t relent and you can feel sharp pricks on your hips where his hand grips you, fingers partially wild-shaped into claws and his head thrown back in ecstasy. Seeing just how feral you drive him makes your hole clench around his shaft, the squeeze causing his hips to stutter as a grunt leaves his lips. “Silvanus preserve me”, Halsin pants as he fucks into you even faster, “if you keep squeezing me like that I will not be able to stop myself from claiming you completely, from making you mine and filling you up with my seed.”

You whimper at the image of Halsin pumping his cum into you, fucking it deep into your womb until he is sure that it has taken hold. You cannot pretend you haven’t thought about it before, the idea usually sending an embarrassed heat into your cheeks, but now - gods, now you needed it.

Completely breathless you moan, “Halsin I- ah-! please-! Fill me with your cubs!” These words were the last needed for Halsin to lose himself completely in you, driving himself into you with punishing strokes that cause you to arch yourself into him while moans and whispered curses fall from both your lips. The coil in your stomach is so tight again and when Halsin takes the hand from your hip to softly press on your lower belly you see stars. Your walls clench around Halsin’s cock and you feel him twitch inside you, a sign that he too is close to release. All it takes to send you over the edge is his finger pressed against your clit, your body shaking violently beneath him, toes curling, while waves of ecstasy course through you and you cry out his name.

With a last snap of his hips and a low moan, Halsin comes as well, twitching cock releasing hot spurts of cum inside your still fluttering walls. He continues to pump into you until the aftershocks of your shared orgasm have subsided, before he slowly pulls out. You collapse onto the mattress, exhaustion settling over your overstimulated body.

Halsin gets onto the bed with you, gently gathering you up in his arms and placing your head against his broad chest. “You’ve done so well for me, little flower”, he whispers into your ear, placing soft kisses on your face before he looks your body up and down. One of his hands comes up to stroke a strand of hair away from your damp forehead and to gently lift your chin in order to look you in the eyes. You note worry in his gaze, his brows furrowed in remorse when he plants a feather light kiss on your lips.

“I’ve hurt you”, he states. “I’m so sorry, my heart. I shouldn’t have lost control like that.”

You smile up at him and cuddle deeper into his arms before you shake your head. “Don’t apologise. I loved every second of it. There is no birthday present in this world that can ever match this”, you confess with a shy grin. “Although I have to admit I’m a little sore. You sure did your best to make sure I’m unable to walk tomorrow.”

Halsin chuckles. “I can help with that”, he answers with a sly smile, his free hand sliding down your body to stroke through your soft folds, muttering an incantation under his breath. As the familiar glow of the healing spell engulfs his fingers, you feel a rush of warmth where he touches you. A moan escapes your lips before you could stop it, eliciting a mischievous smirk from your lover as you hide your face against his chest in embarrassment.

“I’d be happy to go again, my love, but I think you need some rest first. Besides, we still have an Elderbrain to kill, so we’ll need our strength tomorrow.” You nod at that, the tiredness in your bones leaving you unable to object, even if you had wanted to. But you know he is right, so when Halsin wraps a blanket around you to carry you to the bathroom, you just relax into his chest, the sound of his steady breathing soothing you.

When the bathtub is filled with warm water, you are already half asleep, barely registering that Halsin is gently cleaning you up, rinsing the sweat from your hair and body and rubbing salve over the bite marks and the bruises on your hips once you are dry again.

You can hear the soft snores and deep breathing from your companions when Halsin brings you back into the room you share, all of them already fast asleep. Absentmindedly you wonder how long you and Halsin have been away, but the thought is gone as soon as Halsin places you on your bed.

“Goodnight, my little flower. Sleep well.” He gives you a kiss and turns to leave. You manage to grab his hand before he does, stopping him in his tracks.

“Stay with me tonight?” you mumble sleepily. Halsin smiles, warmth and adoration filling his chest as he carefully climbs next to you, the bedframe creaking slightly with his additional weight, and wraps his arms around your smaller figure. The thought of how your companions might react in the morning seeing you two in one bed briefly crosses your mind, but Halsin’s steady breathing and the soft pulse of his heart against your back soon drown out anything else as you drift to sleep in his warm embrace.

-------------------

Part 2 is here now!

[haetrack]

tread lightly | lhc

lee haechan x f!reader

wc: 17.6k

warnings: smut (MDNI!), established relationship, sexting, jealously, slight miscommunication, mark is an instigator, quite a few text messages, masturbation, kink discussion, mommy kink, nipple play, handjob, edging, overstimulation, barely there choking, unprotected sex, cockwarming, light exhibitionism, epilogue (kinda), dom!reader, sub!haechan

a/n: this fic has been a long time coming so i’m very excited that it’s out! i would like to thank @ncteez for letting me write a fic based on this post of hers! i hope everyone enjoys reading and let me know if you liked it!

It’s midnight and moonlight seeps through the curtain covered window, covering both you and Haechan. You're laying across his bare chest, your finger mindlessly drawing small patterns on it. You both feel sticky, breaths still heavy, yet no one bothers to get up. You peer up to look at Haechan through your eyelashes and see his eyes closed, with cheeks that are slightly flushed. Although you don’t want to break the peaceful silence of the night, you speak up with, “You take such good care of me.”

His eyes open, which then turn and peer down at you with a shy smile. He lets out a small laugh and wraps his arms around you, successfully entrapping you in a bear hug. You let out a small, “it’s still too hot!” which he ignores, and plants kisses along wherever he can reach. “You know I’m always going to be here to take care of you, baby,” he continues with a smirk, “you took care of me so good tonight, I could only return the favor.”

You playfully push him away from you and lay on your respectful side of the bed, while he sits up and stares down at you. His eyes only show love towards you, something that comes with two years of dating. You reach up and caress his cheek, which he takes as a sign to reach down to give you a kiss. “I hope you do know how much I love you, more than anything ever,” he says a little more seriously.

“Even more than your computer?” you tease.

“Hey! I’m being so serious right now!” he grins, letting you know he’s not genuinely mad.

“I’m kidding,” you say with a laugh, “and I hope you know that there’s nothing and no one else I could love more than you.” You sit up along with him and place a kiss to the tip of his nose. He nuzzles his face along your neck and presses kisses along the soft skin of your shoulder. A few moments pass of you two enjoying each other's presence, you gently ask, “Do you think you’re ready to clean up?” He lifts his face from your neck and nods, “I’ll go get a cloth for us.”

After some rummaging in the restroom, he returns with shorts on and a wet cloth for you. He looks at you, asking for approval to clean you up, and you nod, thanking him quietly. Once he finishes, he tells you to go use the restroom already. You groan out, “I don’t want to, I'm already too comfortable here.”

“I know that you love me so much,” you glare at him, “but I will drag you to that restroom if I need to.” With one last groan, you get up and slowly (and painfully) walk to the restroom. Once you finished what needed to be done, you see him scrolling on his phone, waiting for you. He looked up once he realized you were there, and laughed when he saw you limping.

“Don’t be mean! You did this to me!” You say while poking your finger in his chest. He laughs out loud and brings you down to snuggle against him.

“Don’t care how many times I’ve said this already, but I love you.” He was spooning you, and you felt his words travel past your ear. You don’t have to look at him to know that he’s smiling at the thought of the two of you. You whisper out into the dark night, “I love you too. Goodnight, Haechan.” With the two of you cuddled up next to each other, you fall asleep, waiting for what the next day brings.

Instead of awakening to the familiar light of the moon, the harsh sun forces its way in, even through the curtains. You check your phone for the time, and despite the fact that you slept late, you’re awake at eight in the morning. This isn’t the worst thing ever, considering the fact you have class a little after twelve, but you decide to lay in bed for a bit longer.

You turn over to see your boyfriend sprawled across your bed, his pillow somehow on the floor. You have always made fun of him and his sleeping habits, and he in turn mocks you for thinking how cute he is in any situation. You turn your attention to him, and once again draw patterns on his chest. For a while, you mindlessly scrolled on your phone while running your fingers along his abdomen, waiting for him to wake up. 

Even though you’re a patient person, you do have things to do today and classes to attend. You have to wake Haechan up. Your gaze falls back to the hand on his chest, and you smirk to yourself. Your finger circles around his nipple and you lightly pinch it. His body suddenly shivers and goosebumps grow on his skin. His body shifts to grab your hand and just to make a point, you pinch his nipple one last time.

He sucks in a breath through his teeth before he turns towards you. He nuzzles his face in your chest and clings onto your t-shirt. He groggily starts with, “Baby… what d’you think you’re doin’…”

You can barely make out what he said, but you still reply with a giggle. You run your hands along his naked back and he just pushes his face closer to your chest. “Wake up, you big baby. The both of us have class soon.”

Haechan mumbles something incoherent into your shirt and you laugh, pulling him away from you. “Tell me what you have going on today,” you ask, hoping this will get him to wake up. 

After a few moments of silence from him, he responds, albeit with his sleepy voice. “I have class later…” a pause, “then Mark wants to hang out tonight with everyone else there, too…” 

“Are you going to go straight to his place after class?”

“...I dunno yet. But I’ll let you know what happens…” he mumbles. He’s clearly trying to wake himself up to talk to you, so you continue.

“After my classes, I think— no, I have to head to the library to work on that lab report I was telling you about,” you sigh.

“The one for Chemistry?”

“Yeah… I think I cried like five times thinking about it,” you laugh, worried for the upcoming deadline. “If you don’t end up heading straight to Mark’s after your classes, you can come with me and study.” You smile, knowing that when he’s with you you both get no work done.

He nods, and you pat his shoulder. “Come on, let’s go get ready.”

He groans loudly and he grabs your arm to try and pull you down next to him. As much as your body aches to be back in bed with him, you abstain and grab his hand instead. He curls his fingers into yours and brings your hand to his lips to give you a soft kiss there. You return the favor and press a kiss onto his hand. 

“Will it make you feel better if we shower together?”

He shoots straight out of bed.

After a shower (that may or may not have included some heavy touching) and a breakfast made by his wonderful girlfriend, he begins to make his way out of her apartment. He helps with the dishes by drying and putting them away, all while maintaining conversation with you. You talk about little things, how his professor might be his downfall, and how you might’ve finally found a main in Smash Bros. 

Once you both finish getting ready, you take a quick picture of the both of you to upload on your Instagram story. “Are you trying to show everyone how lucky you are to have the best boyfriend ever in the world?” You scowl at him, and he makes a bunch of weird, high pitched noises and gets close to pinching your cheeks. You laugh and push him away.

“No, but seriously, I have to go now. I’ll see you later?” he asks.

“Yes, please be careful. Also text me your plans after class just so I know whether to wait on you?” 

“Of course, Mom.”

“Hey!”

Haechan makes it to his only class for the day. He’s a bit early, so he finds a place to sit before his class starts. He scrolls aimlessly through his Instagram, which reminds him to look at the story you posted of the two of you. He finds it and stares lovingly at it. You look very cute, and he has to remind himself on how to repost another person's story onto his. He captions it with a “me and the gf 🫡” before posting it. 

He notices his classmates slowly make their ways into class and decides to get up himself. Haechan takes his favorite spot in the auditorium, the middle back rows towards the edge of the aisle. Once he’s settled in, his infamous professor walks in with a smile on his face.

Fuck. Coding.

After an hour of hearing a new coding technique being taught badly, Haechan’s mind starts to wander. What else to think about other than his wonderful girlfriend who takes up all his thoughts. He could never get mad at you, though. Ever since meeting you, he thinks his life couldn’t get any better.

He remembers the day you met those three years ago. You were both freshmen in college, and you both had a mutual friend, Mark. You had apparently made friends with Mark through a shared Rhetoric class while Haechan has known Mark for most of his life. Apparently, Mark had taken you out to lunch after said shared class and Haechan was in the dining hall at the same time. He saw the top of Mark’s big head and made his way over.

What he didn’t seem to notice was the prettiest girl he had ever seen, sitting right across from Mark, munching on her food. The stupid shit he was about to say to Mark was cut off by the sight of the girl, at the sight of you, and he stupidly stood there. Mark catches onto this and invites Haechan to sit next to him, which he robotically takes the offer. 

You introduce yourself to him and offer a handshake. Haechan leaves you hanging for a bit, suddenly all too aware he’s leaving you hanging but his hands are just too sweaty. He quickly wipes them on his jeans and shakes your hand, introducing himself successfully. He’s aware that he’s not the best at meeting new people, but he hopes he can push that aside in order to talk to you.

It works. He feels his shy demeanor melt away, becoming more at ease when he talks to you. Eventually, you both start hanging out without Mark, days spent together learning about one another. He thinks he might literally be in love. What would happen if he confessed? Would you say yes? Would you push him away? He thinks he wouldn’t be able to live without you by his side.

Spoiler alert. He does confess and you said yes. As if you would say anything else. 

Interrupting his thoughts, he feels a buzz come from his phone. It’s Mark.

[markly] 12:20, im gonna head over to campus in a bit and get food

[markly] 12:20, after, im gonna be outside ur class waiting for u

[hae] 12:21, k 👍

Not exactly the person he wanted to hear from, but that will do. He remembers to text you the new plan so you can adjust accordingly.

[hae] 12:21, hey baby im going to marks right after class

[hae] 12:21, wish we couldve studied together 

[my beloved 🫂] 12:22, aww dont worry abt it 

[my beloved 🫂] 12:22, we both know that we wouldve gotten nothing done

[hae] 12:22, laughed at a message

[hae] 12:23, are you still in class baby?

[my beloved 🫂] 12:23, my prof cancelled class last min i was kinda pissed

[my beloved 🫂] 12:23, feeling a lot better now that my bf texted me

[my beloved 🫂] 12:24, more time to think abt u hehe

Haechan smiles at his phone and sends a quick love you before turning his phone off. He tries to pay attention, he really does, but his professor might be quite literally secretly planning on failing him. To save him from his dread, one more buzz from his phone. It’s you again.

[my beloved 🫂] 12:31, sorry for bothering u haechan

[my beloved 🫂] 12:31, cant stop thinking of u

Before Haechan can respond, one picture is sent. You are laying stomach down on your bed, but one thing sets him off. Your tits are almost on full display for him. Covered by a lacy bra that barely helps, he can’t help but feel himself twitch in his pants. Remembering that he is still in this Hell-like class, he quickly shuts off his phone and almost slams it against the table.

He doesn’t pick his phone back up for a good five minutes. He can feel the back of his neck get hot, his cheeks beginning to flush. He’s not sure what to do, so all he can respond to your picture is with a:

[hae] 12:36, fuck

[hae] 12:36, does my baby need me that badly?

He shoves his face in his hands and internally groans to himself. First of all, he’s still in class. Secondly, he can’t even go back and help you because Mark’s going to be waiting on him. Thirdly, he’s trying to will away his boner before he sees Mark to avoid any teasing. One more text is sent by you, something along the lines of i need u, and all he can do right now is ask you not to touch yourself without him there.

He uses that not only as a way to placate you, but himself as well. The only thing in his mind now is how soft and full your chest looked. How much he wants to grope and pull at your boobs. He can feel himself straining against his pants, begging to be touched, begging for you. He tries to focus on the monotonous voice of his professor droning on about how making one mistake can ruin a whole code. While the thoughts of you plague his mind, his professor seems to ruin every good fantasy he’s thought of.

To make matters worse, his professor keeps his students over class time, explaining that the homework must be done right away and be done perfectly. No exceptions. Once he’s dismissed, Haechan tries to see if he can find the nearest bathroom before Mark arrives. Unfortunately, Mark is sitting on one of the chairs outside the entrance, and spots Haechan easily.

“Why does it look like you died then came back to life?” Mark laughs in his face.

“Don’t ask me stupid shit,” Haechan grumbles.

After getting laughed at by Mark (which effectively ruins his mood), they make their way to his apartment. No one really makes a plan of when to hang out, so Mark just tells their friends if they could show up last minute. Everyone always does, because what else would college students rather do than on a Thursday night. Of course, Haechan would rather spend time with you, but he was coerced into hanging out (he’s lying, but it’s always going to be you over them). 

After Mark sends a text to the groupchat saying that him and Haechan are already at the apartment, everyone makes their way on their own time. Renjun makes it exactly when he said he would make it, in about twenty minutes. Jeno and Jaemin make their way in a whopping thirty seven minutes with lazy smiles and snacks in their hands. There’s nothing like an unplanned hang out with your friends to talk about random shit.

“There’s a party tomorrow at one of the frats,” Jaemin slowly starts, eyebrows raising up and down.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna try to drag us to a party that you want to go to,” Renjun groans.

“This should be good news for you, I don’t see any bitches on your radar,” Jeno says, with Renjun immediately motioning to hit him.

Everyone laughs at them, and Haechan points and claps at how red Renjun has gotten. Renjun sends glares towards everyone and splutters to come up with an argument for his own sake. “That isn’t even fair! Why am I the only one getting laughed at when Mark and Haechan are sitting right there!”

“I get bitches, I just keep it to myself,” Mark chimes.

“And I have a girlfriend,” Haechan proudly states.

Jaemin takes a jab at Haechan, “No offense to you, dude, but it still looks like you get no bitches.”

“Okay, first of all,” Haechan yells, and everyone groans before he starts again, “you are all jealous of me and the beautiful relationship I have with my beautiful girlfriend.”

Murmurs of sure and I guess fill the room and Haechan feels the need to defend you. He can’t let his friends tell him otherwise, not when you literally made him hard in class just a few hours ago.

“We fuck and love each other at the same time, so that means the both of us are better than all of you.” 

They all stare at him in silence for what feels like forever. Haechan can only stand there and awkwardly stare back. It’s not that he feels awkward, but why are they making it awkward for him? It’s silent until one voice speaks up. Mark Lee.

“The only thing I can agree on from that whole thing is the fact that your girlfriend is hot. She has a nice pair of tits.” Before Haechan can process what was just said, Mark adds, “I would genuinely call her mommy.”

Instead of staring awkwardly, Haechan is now pointedly staring at Mark in shock and… anger? Firstly, Haechan didn’t even say you were hot in his mini speech but said beautiful instead. Secondly, why is he even staring at your tits? Those aren’t his to stare at? How long has he been thinking that? Lastly, who the hell gets a mommy kink from staring at a pair of tits?

In Haechan’s daze, everyone is either outwardly or inwardly agreeing with Mark. In Haechan’s peripheral, he sees Jeno shake Mark’s hand. Even Renjun is silently nodding along to Mark’s words. Jaemin stares at Haechan, which then turns into pointing and laughing at him.

“Guys. You… What the fuck is wrong with all of you? You all are horrible people, please tell me you’re joking.” Haechan feels quite literally batshit insane at how all his friends just agreed with one another that you’re hot as fuck. What the fuck. Are they all just staring at your tits without him knowing? Do you know? Do they all want to call you mommy?

Mark starts with a smile on his face, “I am so serious,” he stares up at Haechan with a look that feels like it’s challenging him, “I would call her mommy and let her do whatever she wants with me.”

At his words, Haechan feels something… different… settle at the bottom of his stomach. The thought of you doing whatever you wanted, pushing him to his limits, all while calling you mommy. He feels a weight on his chest and he slightly shivers at the thought. God, he thinks to himself, what would you even do to him? 

Jeno laughs at Mark saying, “I didn’t take you to be so submissive.” Mark laughs along with him, “I’m not, but with someone as mommy as her, I would immediately be on my knees if she asked me to.” 

Before Mark can say anything else regarding his girlfriend, Haechan cuts them all off with a That’s enough of talking about my girlfriend's tits for the night. He still has that heavy feeling looming inside of him, thoughts running rampant through his mind.

He couldn’t wait to be back at his apartment.

After toughing it out at the library, the Chemistry report was finished. It might not be your best work, but it’s better than nothing at all. Making your way to your apartment, you reminisce on the day you had. Your class was canceled, you had lunch, another boring class, then the library. You focus on the canceled class, which led you to a wonderful chat with your boyfriend.

No matter how long it’s been in your relationship, Haechan always reacts to a nude so nicely, so desperate. It spurs you on at how much he loves your body, how much he loves you, to the point where he gets so worked up that he needs you right there. Even though he couldn’t act on that today, seeing how reacted on text satisfied that need for you. 

It surprises you how much he’s opened up to you over the course of time. When you had first seen him on that day you had lunch with Mark, he seemed shy. Mark had briefly talked about him before, how he was always screaming in his ear, so seeing him like that confused you. His cheeks were slightly flushed, and when you shook hands, they were clammy.

You knew from that point on you had to have him for yourself. You wanted to see his shy demeanor melt away while he talked to you. Over time, he showed how comfortable he was with you by clinging on to your side, taking you out to lunch, and making a playlist of songs that reminded him of you. This only solidified how badly you needed him.

And you got him. Through a rushed confession, he explained how he didn’t want to ruin what you both had but he had to tell you how he felt. You immediately told him you felt the same way, and the rest was history. You know him like the back of your hand, and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

He treats you well, like a friend, but with love that never seems to leave. You gave him all that you had, all your love, your body, your mind. He gives you back everything tenfold, and he tells you there could never be a time where he doesn’t love you. Those words show in everything he does with you.

Especially the nights with hushed whispers for only you to hear. Where he takes his time with you, taking off your clothes in a pace that makes sense to him. He kisses you softly, his body on top of yours. I love you, he says. You moan out as he drags his kisses down to your jawline, sucking onto a sensitive spot. He continues to trail down your body with his lips, all while hearing you whine out for him.

“Haechan-” your whimper cuts you off, “please don’t tease me.” 

He’s down by your navel when he chuckles at you. “I wouldn’t dream of it, baby.” He nuzzles his nose to the seat of your panties, your smell taking the last of his self control. “My pretty baby will let me eat her out, won’t she?” 

Who are you to deny him when he asks so nicely?

Your phone dings once you make it home. A text from Haechan. 

[hae] 11:08, i’m making it back to my place soon

[my beloved 🫂] 11:08, i just got back to mine too

[my beloved 🫂] 11:09, hopefully i can see u tomorrow

[my beloved 🫂] 11:09, rest up

[my beloved 🫂] 11:09, i have all day tomorrow to spend w you

[hae] 11:09, yes ma’am 🫡 

[hae] 11:10, love you baby

You send a quick voice message saying Love you too, and please go to sleep early. 

[hae] 11:11, hae loved a message. 

So he didn’t go to sleep like you had asked him to. On the car ride back that Jeno had offered him, he couldn’t stop thinking about one thing. You. Specifically, you on top of him, all while he would be reaching out to you, begging for you.

He’s not even quite sure what a mommy kink entails. It’s not that he’s never heard of it- being chronically online almost forces him to hear that word- he’s just not sure what else you do with a mommy kink. He knows he would be submissive and that he would call you mommy, but what else is there to it?

That’s why once he says goodnight to Jeno after dropping him off at his apartment complex, he doesn’t feel guilty for being curious over such a thing. He doesn’t feel guilty when he rushes to his bedroom, grabbing his laptop and ripping off his shirt. He doesn’t feel guilty in finding a pornsite, typing in mommy in the search bar. He doesn’t feel guilty scrolling through all the videos, feeling himself get hard. 

He settles for a video titled, Mommy Uses Her Sweet Boy Until He Cries. He watches the video, a man with his arms tied to the bed. He begins grinding his hand against the front of his sweats, a woman walks in and starts giving the man a handjob. He pushes his sweats down hastily, whines and whimpers fill the room, his mommy taking what’s hers. Haechan releases himself from the confines of boxers, his neediness beginning to hurt him.

After a while, the video plays forgotten in the background. Haechan is lost in his own thoughts. He wants you to treat him how he usually treats you. Thoughts of you here, in between his thighs, touching him in a way he can’t imagine. As much as he wishes that was real, it wasn't. He’s stuck in his room, pathetically getting himself off to a kink that was just introduced to him. 

He can feel his thoughts melt away, entering a headspace he has never dealt with before. He’s never felt this sensitive while getting himself off. His fist tightens around his tip, which causes him to whimper out. He knew he was more vocal than other people in bed, but he realizes tonight takes the cake. He’s leaking precum, his cock begging to be touched once more.

He manages to open his eyes and refocus on the video. The man in question is currently being edged before the woman brings her hand up to his nipple to toy with him, to which Haechan outwardly moans at the sight. Haechan’s own hand reaches up to his chest and hesitantly pulls at his own nipple. Not realizing how sensitive he could be, Haechan cums on the spot. 

Haechan feels as though he can see himself from the outside of his body in a third person view. The image of him, with spurts of his cum across his stomach, one hand tweaking his nipple and the other going to covering his mouth is engrained at the back of his head. If he thinks hard enough, he can feel you sitting atop his thighs doing all this for him, whispering how good he’s been into his ear, how he must’ve been so eager and desperate in order to cum that fast.

After a few minutes of laying in that spot, ears ringing, harsh breaths evening out, he opens his eyes and thinks. Is he… supposed to tell you what he just did? You both never really talked about stuff like this before, but he can’t imagine just springing this on to you. He cringes at the thought, and hesitantly pulls out his phone. He opens up your messages, and he twiddles his thumbs at the side of his phone.

He looks over to his laptop, the video he had been playing had now ended, the video replaying in his head. He bites the inside of his cheek as he types out to you, deleting the message before retyping it again.

[hae] 12:48, can i ask you something?

The next morning, Haechan wakes up hot and sweaty. He’s not quite sure why, not until he can feel himself throbbing in his boxers. With that in mind, he remembers the dream he had containing the both of you. He can’t remember all the details, something along the lines of you on top of him, taking everything you needed from him. Whatever it was, Haechan feels the need to get off again to the thought of you. 

He does. The thought of your tits in his face all while getting a handjob was enough to quickly get him off. After washing up, he can feel his face getting hot. He hasn’t been this shy at the thought of you since you both first met. Before he can get too into his thoughts, he remembers that he texted you last night. He may have subtly (read: not at all subtle) asked what you thought of a mommy kink. He doesn’t want to read back the texts, knowing that his messages were all jumbled, adrenaline and giddiness written all over them.

He tries not to get too excited at the thought of it. He scrolls through Instagram to distract himself, but one of your friends just posted a picture of the both of you, your pretty face and tits right there for him to look at. He bites his lips, nasty thoughts of you filling his head. He goes to start up one of his games, but ends up staring at the starting screen. All of his thoughts lead back to you. He realizes he's at his breaking point when he's literally waiting for a message from you.

After laying in bed for an hour straight, you finally decide to get up. Fridays are the days you get to relax, meet up with your boyfriend, and do whatever you both want without worrying about classes. You had mutually agreed at the start of the semester to spend Fridays together because both of your schedules allowed for it. There was never a day you weren’t excited for Fridays to come, always happy to see your boyfriend. 

Before you actually get up, you do a quick scan of all your apps. On Instagram, you see that your friend has posted a picture of the two of you, the one that you happened to look super good in. You see that Haechan has already liked the picture, even before you had seen it. You like the post and turn your phone off in order to go and get ready for the day.

You’re not quite sure what it is today, but you feel good. You feel like you could conquer the world with how you look and feel. Maybe it was because of the finished lab report, or maybe just the fact that you’ll be seeing your boyfriend today. If he doesn’t immediately fall to his knees and tell you that you’re the prettiest person he’s ever seen, then there has to be something wrong.

Speaking of Haechan, you remember waking up to one of his texts last night. He had randomly asked about a kink, a very specific one at that. A mommy kink. When you got his first text, you were scared, heart pounding in your chest from such an ominous message so late into the night.

[my beloved 🫂] 01:02, what happened? i was asleep im so sorry

[hae] 01:02, nothing bad dont worry baby

[hae] 01:03, i was just thinking

There was a long pause between his texts. Even if he said that there was nothing to worry about, you can’t help but wonder what he could possibly be thinking.

[my beloved 🫂] 01:14, baby youre scaring me please just tell me what you wanted to ask

[hae] 01:16, i got home and i couldnt stop thinking about you

[hae] 01:16, i wanted to ask about something i might be interested in

[hae] 01:16, would you be interested in dominating me?

[hae] 01:16, and me calling you mommy?

You stare at your screen, letting out the breath that you were holding in. On one hand, your boyfriend did not want to break up with you, which came from quickly assuming the worst. But on the other hand… what? 

You weren’t unfamiliar with how submissive men work. Before you met Haechan, you watched your fair share of porn. While most of the contents included what would be considered “vanilla” sex, there were some femdom videos that you watched. You always wondered how it would feel to have someone crying under you, the image of Haechan popping up in your head when you did. 

He must have assumed that the pause in your texting was a bad sign, quickly backtracking and apologizing. It was cute, how embarrassed he got as he tried to change the subject. You can imagine him squirming around in bed, trying to push back his fantasies of you while texting. You interrupt him. 

[my beloved 🫂] 01:24, i wouldnt mind.

Rereading your texts, you realize how badly you need to see him again.

You text him asking if you should both meet up. You both agree on meeting up in the evening in order to get take-out together, spending the rest of the night in each other's presence. There’s nothing more than you could ask for besides being there besides him, the comfort of his presence bringing you more peace than anything else could. 

Even though you were ready for a nice night with him, you prepared yourself. The image of your boyfriend thinking of you, being so interested in being submissive, makes your heart beat a little faster. You bite your lip, wanting to see your boyfriend fall apart under you, wanting to hear his cries. Maybe Haechan has finally rubbed off on you, and you smile at the thought of it.

You spend the rest of the day cleaning up around your apartment, waiting for your boyfriend’s arrival.

Before the sun fully sets, Haechan alerts you that he’s outside. You trot to the door with a smile on your face. It feels like forever since you had last seen him (you fully know it’s been less than a day). When you open the door for him, he’s standing there, gawking at you. You see that his cheeks are lightly dusted pink, his mouth trying to form some words.

When you go to hug him, he feels stiff against your own body before deciding to hug you back. Though you knew that he might act a little different, starting from the picture you sent him to the mommy kink confession, but you didn’t think he’d be like this. It’s nice to see him like this again, and as you move to press a kiss to his cheek, he turns redder.

You both settle in and sit next to each other on your couch. He’s properly talking to you now, but you can see how he’s still a little nervous. In a way, it reminds you of how he acted when you both first met. Shy looks and responses, scratching at his neck, and fidgeting with his hands. You go to hold his hand, pressing a kiss to the top of it, causing him to laugh softly.

You’re not sure if bringing up the texts last night would be any good, you think it’d be better for him to bring it up when he’s comfortable. You don’t want to rush him into anything. Even if you can see how he stares at your lips and chest too hard, you don’t want to start anything he isn’t ready for. You both were here for something else, anyways: food.

“Instead of going to a restaurant, do you want to just go to the convenience store down the street? I’m feeling a little lazy.” Haechan coos at you and presses a kiss to your cheek. You both gather your things to make the small trip to and from. You lock your door and turn to look at Haechan as he reachesfor your hand and holds it. You grin at him, pressing yourself into his side as you walk down the slightly lit up street.

The convenience store is a short trip, maybe only a five minute walk from your apartment. You have a small conversation on your way there over how your day was, his hand still intertwined with yours. But with a stroke of luck, you manage to meet you and Haechan’s mutual friend, Mark Lee. You’re pretty sure Haechan notices him first, and he signals to you of his presence by squeezing your hand tighter. 

You look up, and there’s Mark with a smile on his face, waving at the both of you. What you miss though is Haechan’s reaction to him and how Mark looks at you. Before Haechan greets Mark, he lets go of your hand and opts to wrap his arm around your waist. You snuggle into him, and you can hear him call out to his friend.

“Hey guys!” Mark says with a teasing smile on his face, “Feels like forever since I’ve seen you!” and you laugh at him. It’s rare that you see Mark on his own without a friend by his side, specifically, your boyfriend. You and Mark don’t hang out alone as much as you used to, but you still consider him a close friend. After all, he was the one who introduced you to Haechan. 

After a few words are exchanged, there’s a pause in conversation that you can’t quite decipher. You see Haechan and Mark eyeing each other, sending challenging looks to one another. 

“Alright!” you clap, “Me and Haechan have some cheap food to buy and eat, so we’. See you soon, Markie!” You pat Mark’s shoulder as you walk away and Haechan just nods him off. 

“What was that all about?”

“Nothing… but since when did you call him Markie?”

You roll your eyes.

While eating your food, you had asked Haechan if Mark had finally bothered him back. He just laughed and said He has nothing on me! Allegedly, Haechan had beaten Mark too mamy times at Mario Kart to the point where they had a full on argument over how Haechan was somehow cheating. You let out a confused laugh at his words, and Haechan can only say, “The world still hasn’t realized I’m just too good at everything.”

You flick his forehead. 

“So you weren’t being all shy because of the picture I sent yesterday? Or even what you texted me last night…?” you tease, sensing how he’s more comfortable. He covers his face with one hand while slight embarrassment takes over. He doesn’t look uncomfortable, but you can sense a shift in his demeanor as he takes in your words. He nods his head, sliding his tongue along the inside of his cheek.

You finish eating and a movie is put on. The movie is fine, but you’re more focused on Haechan. Though you wanted to take things slow, you can’t help but stare at him. You don’t necessarily do anything new, but you just need him close to you right now.

You tuck yourself to his side, burying your head into his shoulder. Being a seemingly innocent action, he gladly accepts your touch. Minutes pass, and he hasn’t moved to do anything besides moving his arm to hold you by the waist. Your neediness seems to take over, as you move your hand to his upper thigh. You can feel him jump ever so slightly, a feeling of satisfaction coursing through you.

Your thumb rubs the inner part of his thigh, and you feel his fingers twitch at your side. You know he gets riled up with needy touches, you’re just trying to see if he wants to do anything tonight. You place light kisses along his neck, a soft whine escaping your lips, begging him to do something.

Clearly having enough of your antics, he grabs you by the hips and places you on top of his thighs. His face is flushed, his eyes shyly looking up at yours. Despite all the times you’ve both been in this position before, it feels like the first. A shy, yet expectant Haechan under you, waiting for you to make a move.

You move to press kisses along the moles on his cheeks, Haechan’s eyes fluttering shut and the feeling of your soft lips on his skin. His hands grip tightly on your hips, encouraging you to continue. You move to the middle of his collarbones, a wet kiss pressed onto the mole there. You lick a stripe up to the mole on his neck, and he lets out a choked moan.

You sit back up, looking down to see his face. He looks at you with a look you haven’t quite seen before. He looks… desperate. Not that he hasn’t been desperate to fuck you before, but there’s a different meaning behind his eyes and his touch. You’re almost reminded of yourself, how you might look under him, begging him to fuck you already, tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

“We don’t have to do anything…” you whisper out, scared to break the tension you’ve created. His mouth opens, but nothing comes out. He shifts under you, and you feel his erection press into your thigh. You giggle at him, and he shuts his eyes, groaning to himself. He finally moves, suddenly wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you directly on top of his clothed cock.

“Been needing you all day,” he stifles a moan when he feels you grind yourself onto him, “wanna feel you, wanna show everyone that you’re mine.” You whine out his name and he pulls you into a kiss. It’s messy, tongues sloppily moving against each other. Drool spills past your lips, and Haechan moves to lick it right back up. Your hands move to grip on his shoulders, needing to be grounded.

You need him inside of you already. You’re sure you’ve stained his sweatpants already, feeling yourself dripping with every motion. He seems too focused on what’s happening now though, feeling too sensitive with how much he’s twitching under you. Your hands move up to his hair to get him to get him to refocus, and he lets out a small whimper. You almost miss it.

He looks up at you like you were the one who made that noise. You laugh hard, “So shy,” his hips buck up, “it’s almost like the first time we had sex again.”

You’re sitting on top of him, laughing about how pathetic he looks right now. As much as he wants to laugh it off and move onto the actual fucking, he feels himself become embarrassingly close to cumming. Thoughts of the night before flood into his head, the image of you sweetly whispering in his ear saying how much you want to fuck him is getting to him.

You look almost identical to how you looked in his head last night, and he can feel himself throbbing in his sweats. It all becomes too much too fast, and he quickly apologizes and moves you off of him. You stare incredulously at the sight of him rushing to your bathroom. You hope you didn’t push things too far, letting him be alone before you ask any questions. 

He feels so lightheaded, a heavy weight placed onto his chest. You laughed at him, made him feel so small and pathetic to the point where he could’ve cum in his pants right there. Reminding himself of what he did last night, he didn’t realize that he’d get a humiliation kink from it too. He wishes you could wrap your hand around his cock and laugh about how perverted he is from getting off to something like that. He can only wish.

For now, all he can think about is getting himself off before he can face you again. In all honesty, he was fighting himself from getting hard as soon as he saw you. You looked good today, and all the image of your chest flashed through his mind all day. How much he wanted to just take you into your room, push you onto your bed, and fuck you until you cry for him to stop.

Another part of him wishes for the opposite. He can’t help but think of you being the one making him cry. He wants to be under you, feel how your body rides him until he’s the one begging you to stop. These fantasies don’t help his throbbing cock. Despite you being seated in the other room, he figures the only thing he can do now is get himself off pathetically in your restroom.

He slides down his sweats to his midthigh, too impatient and embarrassed to go any further. The front of his boxers are wet from his dripping tip, he squeezes himself through his boxers, a soft whine trying to escape his lips. Realizing you’re still in the other room, he uses his free hand to cover up his mouth. Deciding he probably shouldn’t tease himself, he pulls down his boxers.

His dick slaps against his abdomen, flushed and dripping at the tip. He wraps a hand around the base and begins moving. He feels too sensitive just from the feeling of you on top of him, dangerously close already. His hips begin to buck against his hand, everything feeling like too much and not enough. If he could, he’d ask you to come in and help him cum. 

The thought of a teasing smile adorning your face makes a strangled moan come out of his mouth, almost too loud. He can hear you get up from your couch, making your way to your room. He continues to fist his cock, drool slipping out of his mouth and smearing messily against his palm. He feels like a pervert right now, fucking his hand in your restroom.

As if he couldn’t be even more embarrassed, he swears that you’ve stopped in front of your restroom door. The sound of whimpers and soft cries worrying you to where you have to check in on him. He wonders if you’ve put your ear to the door, wonders if you can hear the sounds of him fisting his cock. He can’t help but think if you would call him pathetic, tell him how much he should be lucky that you’re willing to fuck him.

A low moan escapes past his lips and he can hear you gasp on the other side. He hears you run to your room, softly closing the door. You were listening. His body feels numb and strained at the same time. Every muscle tensing, his dick twitching in his palm, begging for release. He imagines you in your room, your thighs squeezing together, getting ready to get yourself off to the sound of your boyfriend getting himself off like a loser.

A familiar feeling sets at the bottom of his stomach, mind going blank from his incoming orgasm. Only thoughts of you fill his mind, his pretty girlfriend being so clueless over his desires. He wonders if you would let him call you mommy right now. At the thought, his body becomes undone. Cum spurts from his tip, shooting all over his stomach and chest. His hand continues to move until it feels too much, having to forcibly stop himself.

He takes a few breaths. He feels gross and sweaty, looking down at himself to see the mess he’s made. He grabs some toilet paper and cleans up his cum. He moves to wash his hands, looking at himself in your mirror. He looks fucked out. His face still flushed, eyes looking droopy. He’s not sure how he’s supposed to approach this, not sure if you both should just talk about it.

All he can do now is sigh to himself, ready to face what you might ask him. He needs to decide on whether he should tell you everything he’s done or push it off until later.

Fuck Mark Lee.

You can hear your bathroom door unclick, nervousness suddenly taking over your body. Haechan must be finished with… what he was doing. You’re not really sure how to feel about it. You know what he was probably thinking of, but you’re not sure why he couldn’t just do it with you. You never told him no, but he was forcibly keeping it from you.

You hear him slowly walk to your door, stopping right before the entrance. After a few seconds, he opens it, not meeting your eyes. You quietly call out his name, which he hesitantly looks up at you. He looks a little shocked, a small blush spreading across his face. You pat a spot next to you on your bed, beckoning him over. He follows, placing himself quite awkwardly next to you.

“Are you… okay?” You ask him.

“I’m fine, I just needed a moment to myself.” He's not looking at you, instead putting his attention to the fingers he’s picking at.

You grab his hand, refocusing his attention on you, “I heard you, in the restroom,” his eyes widen a little, “I thought you were hurt, but I don’t think that’s what you were doing.” You trail off, waiting for him to try to piece together your thoughts. When he gives you a confused look, you continue, “If I was pushing you too hard, or- or rushing you into doing something you weren’t ready for, I’m sorry.”

Once Haechan puts together what you’re trying to say, he immediately denies it. “It really isn’t because of you! You haven’t done anything wrong,” he shouts, “it’s just… I…” You look at him expectantly, waiting for him to finish his sentence. He gives you one last look before he rushes out, “I just didn’t wanna cum too fast in front of you.”

He shuts his eyes in embarrassment, putting his head in his hands in order to shield himself from you. You have to forcefully stop yourself from laughing out loud. You carefully remove his hands from his face, getting him to look at you once more. You cup his face in your hands, your thumb tracing along the moles on his cheek. He nuzzles softly into your touch, you can feel the warmth from his face seep into your hands. 

“You don’t have to feel embarrassed,” you chuckle, “it makes me feel good knowing that you found me that sexy.”

He groans when he removes his face from you, “I almost came in my pants because of you,” he places a soft kiss to your thumb, “you did things to me that you don’t even know.”

“Care to tell me what I did to get you so worked up?” You smile, faking innocence in order to hear what your boyfriend thinks about you.

Haechan is silent for a few moments, clearly trying to bring his thoughts together. You try to figure it out yourself. There was the picture, the texts, your teasing. Maybe it had something to do with that interaction with Mark that you didn’t quite understand. Despite all these ideas you’ve come up with, you’re not ready for what he says to you.

“Liked it when… I liked it when you laughed at me.” He mumbles out.

You try not to gawk at him, but it’s damn near impossible to hear your boyfriend tell you that he liked it when you laughed at him. During sex. You laughed at him over how shy he looked, and he liked it? It’s not a mommy kink, but you can assume that’s where it definetly came from. 

“Can you explain… what you mean a little more?” You ask.

“Do you want the story in full detail or a quick summary?” He laughs dryly, clearly trying to push his embarrassment away.

“Do a quick summary for me and I’ll ask some questions at the end.” You answer, sitting up a little more straight.

He sighs, becoming a bit more serious with the conversation. After a few breaths, how sort of lied earlier, something did happen between him and Mark. Mark said something about you which made Haechan think differently. He reiterates how these were really good thoughts, but he was just pissed because Mark thought it first. “Also why is he thinking about you when you’re my girlfriend. Tell me he wasn’t clearly trying to get with you before I met you.”

You roll your eyes, Haechan deciding to focus on the smaller issue. You do like seeing him jealous though, especially since this was his own best friend. You’ll pocket that for later though, refocusing on the bigger issue.

“What exactly did he say about me that made you come to your big conclusion?”

At your words, Haechan begins to blush again. He really is acting like how he did at the beginning of your relationship, you think. He’s not really looking at you, and you try to reassure him that he doesn’t have to tell you if he’s not comfortable. This clearly has been bothering him all day, and you assume that this has to deal with his confession from earlier. 

“He just… he said that… that he would be submissive if he were with you. He said he’d call you… mommy.” He mumbled the words near the end, but you heard him clearly. 

In a hypothetical world where Mark was dating you, he would let you dominate him. So Haechan, probably pissed that Mark was thinking that, thought of himself in that position, and also liked it? You feel warmth spread through your body, thoughts begin to fill your head.

You release a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. Haechan takes it as a sign of disgust, immediately backtracking. “I know it seems kinda weird, and I’m not saying that we have to do it now! I just-”

You cut him off, “Why didn’t you tell me how badly you wanted it?” He gapes at you, and you’re honestly quite surprised at your own words. You’re not sure what persona takes over you, but you’re filled with the desire to see this different side to your boyfriend.

Remembering a conversation before you started dating Haechan, before you both even hung out alone together, Mark had told you something about Haechan. At the time, it didn’t seem like it would be too important to your relationship, but now, you might see what Mark meant.

“Did you know that Haechan likes it when girls are mean to him?”

You laugh out at Mark’s words, “Why are you airing out his business to me?”

“It’s not not important! It’s just, like, you need to keep this in mind when you talk to him.”

“What are you saying?” You raise an eyebrow at him, sensing what his words mean in regards to you and Haechan’s relationship.

“Well, you’re the meanest person I know, so that means you and Haechan are meant to be together!”

He’s laughing at you, and you playfully yell at him to stop, shoving him forwards. You feel your face heat up before entering the dining hall, wondering if Haechan told Mark that he likes the way you speak to him. You can feel something stir inside you.

“It’s not that I didn’t want to, it’s just that I didn’t know if you-”

“Are you hard?” You cut him off, laughing at how he cowers in front of you. He tries considerably hard to conceal the small whimper that threatens to fall from his mouth, but it slips out. You hear it and smile sweetly at him, “Do you need help with that?”

He nods vigorously and you go to sit comfortably on his lap. He immediately wraps his arms over the expanse of your back, arms moving wildly in order to touch every part of you. You first place a chaste kiss to his lips, then you begin to slowly kiss him. Although he tries to keep up with the slow pace, you can practically feel how impatient he gets. His tongue traces every corner of your mouth, and you can feel drool slipping down past your lips.

When you have to forcibly pull him away from you, there’s a line of spit connecting your bottom lip to the corner of his mouth. You bring a thumb to his mouth to clean him up, giggling at how he looks at you with a daze in his eyes. While you’ve seen your boyfriend look like this before, it has never been quite like this. You set the pace, you have the control, you’re the more dominant one.

“I can feel how hard you are, just from some kissing…” he moans out at your words and you slowly begin to grind yourself on him. His hands instinctively move to grab your hips in order to set the pace, but you pull his hands off of you. “That’s not how it goes. Not tonight.”

He lets out a shaky breath, affected by both your actions and your words. It was somehow so easy for you to slip into this position, while he was the one struggling to tell you what he wanted. The feeling of you resuming to grind down on his dick causes him to whine out, trying to keep his hands at his sides. It feels so different, so messy, so good.

It’s not like you both haven’t been in this position before, but Haechan can feel that he’s extra sensitive tonight. Despite how he came multiple times last night and once more in the morning, everything always feels better when you’re there to help him. 

He hears you whispering in his ear, licking stripes onto his throat. Your hands at some point made their way under his shirt, now lightly making scratches over his abdomen. With all of this combined, he feels himself coming close to the edge. He tries to lightly call out your name, but only small whimpers come out.

You look up at him, “What is it?” You already know that he’s about to cum, his hips subconsciously bucking up into you. The drag of his cock against your panties sends shivers up his spine. He can feel how wet you are, dripping through your underwear and letting him grind easier into you. You smile at him and reach for his hands, guiding them under your shirt and to your boobs. Finally allowing him to touch, he recreates all the images from his head last night.

As if he were a depraved man, he licks all over your chest, not caring how messy it gets. You moan out to him, and he gives you everything you want. You look down at him, his hair ruffled up and his eyes closed, suckling on your skin. He’s rutting into you helplessly, fully willing to cum just like this.

You have other plans though. So when he calls out your name in a high-pitched whimper, you pull yourself off of him. He immediately groans, hands moving to pull you back on his aching cock, but you push him down onto your bed. He looks so fucked out, and all that he’s gotten was a few touched. You smile at him, moving towards him to slowly pull off his sweatpants.

You’ve left him in his boxers, his cock straining heavily against them. You press a kiss to his clothed tip before moving up his body, right back up to his pretty face. His round eyes look up at yours, pupils blown out with lust. You smile down at him, your hand moving to hold his warm cheek. He nuzzles into it while you sneak your other hand down to lightly touch his cock

He lets out a shaky breath, shoving his head further into the pillows. You softly call him, and he focuses back on you. You move to kiss him slowly, kissing him deeply as your hand palms over his cock. You can feel him twitching in your hold, can feel how he pants against your lips. You press into his tip, feeling the patch of precum that’s formed as you scoff at him. He laughs, but is cut off when you go down to his balls.

His hips fuck up into nothing, chasing any stimulation. He’s moaning into your mouth, becoming needier with your barely there touches. He whines out, “N-need more, need you to touch me more.”

“But I already am? I’m touching you, aren’t I?

He nods quickly, “I know, but I just- I need to feel you…”

“My poor baby,” a quiet whimper follows, “I think you should just take what you get.” Your fingers move to circle tightly around his leaking tip, which he takes as a sign to begin humping against your hand. He’s quick, trying to quickly get off from all your teasing. He’s letting out small moans, embarrassed with how good it feels.

You can feel how close he is, his eyes shut, hand gripped onto your side as he incessantly fucks into your hand. He’s whining your name, begging for more, begging for you. With a smile on your face, you pull your hand away from him, watching in awe at how he cries out while fucking his hips in the air. You laugh out increduously, and Haechan has to forcibly grip himself at his base in order to stop himself from cumming right there.

“Can’t believe I get to see you like this… never thought that you’d be into something this dirty before.”

He cries out, shaking his head, “I’m a good boy, wanna be a good boy for you.”

You squeeze your thighs together, trying to help the ache you feel. You shush him, pressing soft kisses onto his lips as he moves to grind against your thigh. You press up into him and you can feel how hard he grinds into you, savoring the friction. He’s lost in pleasure, and you can tell by how his tongue moves lazily against you, cock searching for any relief.

Your hand slips under his boxers, finally touching him like he wants. He softly thanks you, bucking his hips up against the tight hold you have on him. Your thumb circles his tip, spreading his precum around to help the glide of your hand. He whines out, feeling too sensitive from being edged. “Slow down, Haechan.”

He just nods, not really hearing your words. His hips move in time with your movements. Eyes shut and eyebrows furrowed, only thinking about the softness of your hand against him. He needs more, needs to feel all of you on him. He moves to grab your hand, moving it to his chest. He looks at you with hooded eyes, telling you everything you need to know.

You’ve always known how sensitive his chest was, but before you could ever do anything, he’d swat your hands away with a nervous laugh. Now, being here, you circle his nipple, indulging in how he twitches in your hold, body shivering against the feeling. “So sensitive, you’d probably be happy cumming like this, right?”

He nods, subtly asking for more as he arches his chest into you, begging for your touch. You pinch his nipple and roll it around your fingers, Haechan shoving his head into your shoulders to hide the embarrassingly loud whimpers coming out of him. He’s leaking all over your hand, slick sounds coming from where you’re jerking him off. “Are you gonna cum? Gonna make a mess all over my hand?”

He’s far gone, feeling his warm breath against your skin as he helplessly fucks your fist. He’s so desperate, right now, taking so much from you when you’re giving him so little. You realize that this is what he’s been wanting all day, waiting for you to put him in his place. His hips begin to stutter against you, and you know he’s about to cum. In awe, you whisper out to him, “Are you gonna cum for mommy?”

He lets out a loud whimper, not even waiting for you to give him permission to cum.

You feel spurts of his cum all over your hand, how he bucks into your fist to ride out his orgasm. You help him, gliding your hand over his length until he whines out from the overstimulation. You chuckle as you pull your cum-covered hand away. Haechan watches in interest as you bring your hand to your mouth, licking up his cum from your fingers and swallowing. He groans before pulling you into one last kiss, tasting his cum on your tongue.

You both lay in your bed, your hands caressing his back as he lets out soft breaths against you, pressing light kisses to your shoulder. You both lay there, enjoying the warmth that your bodies are emanating. His breaths are getting deeper, slowly getting lulled to sleep by your touches. You press a kiss to the top of his head, “You did so well for me, Haechan.”

You can feel him smile against your skin as he falls asleep.

There’s been tension in the air.

Ever since the other night, you haven’t been able to keep yourself away from Haechan. No one’s bothered to make a move since then, the only thing he’s offered you are heavy stares and subtle kisses. Even though you’re supposed to be the one dominating him, it feels more like you’re waiting on him. You wonder if all he needed was one fix of you catering to his thoughts.

You didn’t want to beg him to let him dominate you, it should be the other way around. You aren’t sure how to approach it, not even sure how Haechan managed to tell you. It’s not embarrassing, but you don’t want to do something he doesn’t want to do anymore. If he really wanted it, he would’ve told you already.

Throughout the week, you try to signal to him that you’re ready, that you’re just waiting on him. You press kisses along his shoulder while he’s gaming, you rub against him while you’re out, you sit on his lap, hoping for something.

You don’t get it, and you’re sure at this point, you never will.

It isn’t until one day you’re getting ready to go out and eat with him, but this time, Mark has somehow made his way into your plans. You’re not upset with it, but Haechan was trying to usher you away from him. He tried saying that Mark was going to take your food while he wasn’t looking, and would try to make you pay for him, but you roll your eyes at him. Haechan is being too dramatic, but you remember the conversation they had the other night.

He’s jealous. You think you might use his jealousy today to benefit the both of you. 

When you eventually meet up with Mark, Haechan has you tightly around his side, puffing out his chest. Mark doesn’t miss the hold he has on you, ignoring it to instead focus on greeting the both of you. 

If Haechan never told you about their conversation, you would’ve missed the energy between the both of them. It’s at this point where you realize that the weird stares they sent each other a few nights ago match the ones they’re doing now. They’re challenging each other, Haechan making sure Mark won’t do anything out of line. Mark eventually breaks eye contact with him, turning to look at you instead.

“Just wanted to get some food with you guys. I haven’t hung out with you in such a long time,” Mark grins.

“If it weren’t for Haechan, I would still be going out to lunch with you,” you tease, trying to get a reaction out of Haechan. It works, hearing him grumble out intelligible words as he tries to get you both moving. You’re sure Mark wouldn’t actually do anything to impose on you and Haechan’s relationship, probably just enjoying getting back at his friend after so many years. 

It doesn’t feel like that to Haechan though. He can feel his blood boiling watching Mark take all your attention away at the diner. Even if you’re seated right there next to Haechan, all your attention is on Mark, sitting right across from you. He doesn’t know what to do, feeling frustrated that your eyes aren’t on him, your hands not touching him, your mouth on his-

Okay. He has to stop his mind from going in too deep too fast. He tries for about a good five seconds before giving up, all the tension from this week suddenly piling up and becoming too much for him. It doesn’t matter if he’s the one pinning you to the bed or the other way around, he just needs you right now. If only Mark wasn’t here, he would’ve dragged you all the way back to your apartment already.

But he can’t, not with Mark practically taking you away from him at this point. All he can do is shove the last of his food in his mouth as he thinks of what to do. He can’t just tell you he’s horny in front of his literal best friend, so the best he can do is place a hand on your thigh. You’re not phased though, conversation still flowing between you and Mark. He takes out his phone, pretending to mindlessly scroll while he rubs his thumb on your inner thigh. 

You don’t seem to mind until his hand trails up higher, your hand suddenly wrapping around his wrist, stopping his trail. You shoot him a quick look, and Haechan sends a smile your way. Your hand moves away while Haechan stares at his still left on your thigh. He gives it a squeeze, feeling how your thigh twitches under his hold. He bites his lips, trying not to get too hasty.

He wants to see how far he can push you until you break, until you pull your attention away from Mark and onto him. He realizes where your line is when he grabs your hand and places it onto his bulge. You push your hand away, swatting at his hands that chase yours. You can see how Mark gives you both a confused look, and all you can do is send him an annoyed smile as you fight with Haechan under the table.

You lean into his ear, whispering, “Do that again and I’ll leave you to cum by yourself tonight.”

Haechan immediately sits up straight.

Mark knows none the wiser of what you just said to Haechan, instead laughing at how he’s shut up so fast. You continue talking with Mark as Haechan sits there quietly, his cock hard and straining against his jeans.

Before Haechan knows it, he’s shoved against your apartment door as you kiss him, hands threaded in his hair as he whines out to you. “Shouldn’t even be doing this to you,” you murmur against his skin, “you were being so bad earlier.”

“I would’ve been nice if it weren’t for Mark taking away all your attention,” he huffs out, already out of breath from your ministrations.

So that’s what this is all about, you think. You pull lightly on his hair as you suckle on the mole of his neck, earning a small whimper. The shy and embarrassed Haechan from before is gone, taken over by a desperate and needy Haechan. His hands find your hips, groping at the flesh as he takes what you give him. “Needed you so bad, you don’t even know.”

“I could tell, you were practically begging me to fuck you in the diner.” He bats his eyes at you, grabbing one of your hands and placing it on his bulge again. You smile sweetly at him, lightly tracing the outline of his cock through his pants. His head slumps on your shoulder, falling apart immediately with the light touches you give him. You tease his clothed tip, his hips rutting into your hand to chase more pleasure. 

You leave your hand for him to hump against, letting himself fall apart over you. You can feel a small patch of precum form on his pants, swirling your thumb around his tip as he moans out to you. He’s getting to the edge too fast, “Need you to- fuck, mommy, need you to-”

You cut him off quickly, “What was that?”

He looks at you with wide eyes, face flushed and panting as he tries to backtrack. His hands slip from your body as he steps back, trying to explain himself as if you both didn’t already talk about it. You grab his hips and push them flush to yours, “What did you call me, baby?”

Haechan whimpers at the petname, his lips messily pressing against yours as he moans into your mouth. He slots a leg in the middle of your thighs, his hard cock pressing into your upper thigh. “Please, mommy, please fuck me already.”

His neediness is getting to you, feeling his cock hump against your thigh. His voice sounds like he’s almost crying, just from light touching and dry humping. You can feel your own body go hot, moving your thigh up to press harder into his cock. He whimpers out a thank you as he presses harder against you, tongue intertwining with yours.

As much as it’s nice to see him fall apart like this, you’d much rather see him like this when he’s actually inside of you. You move to pry him off of you, ignoring his whines in order to pull him into your bedroom. He messily slips his pants off as he moves to the bed, laying back against your pillows as you watch him. You peel off your shirt and bottoms, sitting at the foot of the bed, eyeing your boyfriend. 

You realize how much you like seeing him like this. He looks so soft, so pliant under your control despite how bratty he was being earlier. You can only assume he’s like this because of how much he loves you, your heart pounding in your chest at the realization. You send a small smile his way, hand moving to cradle his face as he nuzzles into your touch. “I can’t believe how you were hiding this from me, didn’t know how much you needed me.”

He hums along to your words, hand grabbing your wrist as he rubs his thumb along your skin. It all feels sweet, if only it weren’t for how his cock is straining against his boxers. You ignore it, moving to place yourself on top of him, one thigh in between his legs as you kiss him softly. At first, he melts in your touch, taking it all in. In about thirty seconds, you can tell how impatient he’s getting.

You can feel him squirm under you, his cock subtly grinding into your thigh. You continue to ignore him, pressing kisses all over the moles on his face. His eyes are shut, heavy breaths fanning across your face as he tries to hold himself together. You wait for him to unravel, wait for him to beg out to you. You want to know that he needs you.

All it takes are a few more kisses and a few more seconds of him humping your thigh before he gives in, “Just- can you… can you please touch me, mommy?”

His eyelashes bat at you, and you flash a sickly sweet smile at him. You slowly move yourself down, pulling up his shirt to expose his chest and stomach. You kiss all over where you can reach, hearing how he lets out a small whine when you get close to his nipples. “Would my baby mind me touching his chest?”

You place your lips over one, sucking lightly onto his skin. He whines, cock pushing against your stomach as you lick all around. You look at him through hooded eyes, looking at how his arm covers his face as he fights through the stimulation. He can feel how you smile against his nipple while your other hand tweaks the neglected one. It’s all too much and all too little, “Please, need you to touch me already. Need you so bad, mommy!”

“Hmm, but I’m already touching you?” you say messily against his chest, “what more do you need?”

He rubs his hand against his face, realizing that he’s never really begged like this before. His mind feels hazy over how fast you were able to do this for him, make him beg and feel humiliated. You are everything he could have asked for. He sucks in a breath when he feels your teeth brush against him, “Just- my cock. Need to feel you touch my cock. Please.”

“All you had to do was ask, baby.” You move further down, tapping his hip to get him to lift his hips up as you take off his boxers. His cock slaps against his stomach, red and leaking at the tip, now twitching at your attention. You ghost your fingertips over his aching cock, loving how he’s already whining. You wrap your hand over his length, thumb moving up to tease his tip, “Mommy wants to see you cum, do you think you can do that for me?”

He quickly nods, “Wanna cum for you, wanna make a mess all over your hand.”

“I’ve got you, my pretty baby.” You tease his tip with the palm of your hand, spreading around his precum. After a few more whines fill the air, you build a slow rhythm of fisting his length. All the sounds that fill the room are Haechan’s whimpers and the slick sound of your hand on his cock. You press kisses to his thighs, feeling how they jump with your touch. You look up to see him fucked out by just your hand, drool slipping out of the corner of his mouth.

You move your hand faster, watching how his hips fuck up into your hand, needing more than what you’re already giving him. One of his hands trails over his body, stopping at his nipple to squeeze at it. His other hand stops at his mouth, his fingers slipping into his mouth as he moans out to you. You squeeze your thighs together, breath getting heavy from just watching him.

You absentmindly tighten your fist around him, his cock twitching in your hold, “W-wait, I’m gonna cum. Can I cum? Need to cum, mommy, please let me cum!”

You frown at him, “Already? Can’t you hold on for a little longer for mommy?”

At your words, he cums all over the tight hold of your fist. Globs of cum land on your hand and on his stomach all while Haechan’s crying out in relief. You sigh out, thumb rubbing over his tip as he yelps in surprise. He tries to reach over to pull your hand off him, but you stop him, “Mommy wants to see how much more you can take, okay?”

Whines fill the air as you quickly move your hand over his length, cum helping the slide over him. It’s messy, slick sounds mixing in with your laughs as his thighs shake around you. His hands try to push against your own while his hips fuck into your hold. Tears threaten to slip from his eyes, his pretty lips open to let cries out. “What’s wrong, baby? Tell me what’s wrong so I can help you.” you say, feigning concern as your hand twists around his cock.

“H-hurts, hurts so bad that it feels good! Please slow down… just- just a little more and I’ll cum!”

“Aw, is mommy not doing a good job?” you say, practically mocking him.

“No! Please keep going, wanna cum again!” You can see tears slip from his cheeks, his face flushed as one of his hands tugs at his hair. You pull your hand away when he tells you he’s about to cum, hearing the loud sobs he lets out as you swat away his hands that try to wrap around his length.

“Mommy wants to hear how good of a job she’s doing, won’t you tell me how good I’m doing, baby?”

Haechan cries out when he feels you softly lick at his tip, your eyes staring up at him in a way he’s seen so many times before. It’s different now though, him genuinely crying out for you to let him cum. His mind is nearly blank, thoughts only being of you looking so nice between his legs. “You… Mommy's doing such a good job, making me feel so good. Just wanna cum, wanna show mommy how good she’s doing…”

With one last kiss to his tip, you look at him and smile, “Is that true, baby?” your hand moves to his pulsing cock, “It makes me so happy to hear you say that. Might just have to reward you, hmm?”

He cries out when you start moving your fist against him, one of his hands moving to hold onto yours, entwining your fingers. It’s cute, him needing your hold to reassure him. You move down to suckle at his tip again, catching Haechan off gaurd as he shoves his cock further into your mouth. He whines at the warmth of your mouth, you tutting at him for going out of line.

You quickly jerk him off, wanting to see him cum, needing to see him fall apart. You’re breathing heavily affected by your own boyfriend. “Cum for me, mommy wants to see you cum.”

He lets go at your words, cum spurting onto your fist, helping him ride out his orgasm. His hand quickly stops yours before you can try moving your fist over him again. You chuckle at the sight, moving up towards his face. You press kisses along his tear-stained cheeks, feeling the heat radiating off his face as he comes down from his high. You thread your hands through his hair, massaging his scalp as he sniffles. 

You lean down to his ear, “Don’t you think it’s my turn now?”

“Will you… ride me?” he asks, shyly looking away from you.

You laugh at how cute he is like this, giving him one last kiss before you ask him to undress. He peels off his shirt and boxers, his eyes watching you slip off your bra and panties. He reaches out to you, trying to get you close to him. You smile as you sit right over his cock, sliding your wet cunt over his length. His head pushes back into the pillows as he grinds up into you, savoring the feeling of your slick all over him.

“Mommy’s gonna fuck you now,” a wide grin on your face as you put his tip at your entrance, teasing him as you shallowly let him slip inside you. His hands are balled into fists at his sides, his face scrunched up. You place your hands onto his shoulders as you slide down his length, the stretch sending sparks up your spine as you moan out. Even if you’re the one in control right now, it’s still your boyfriend you’re fucking, his cock almost making you lose focus.

His hands shoot up to your sides, holding onto your hips as you experimentally swivel your hips around his length. He’s holding back his moans, biting down on his lips as you bring yourself back up. Your nails dig into his skin, his length filling you up nicely. You look down at him, his eyes trailing up your chest before meeting your gaze, looking fucked out. “Tell me how much you want this, baby.”

He lets out a shaky breath, “Need you, wanna feel you cum around me. Wanna cum in you so bad, wanna fill my mommy up with my cum.”

At his words, you start bouncing on his cock. You watch his face, flushed out as his hands move to hold onto whatever he can. He gropes at your boobs, fingers teasing your nipples. The only noises in the room are his cries, your moans, and the sound of your thighs slapping against his. He’s breathing heavily, eyes watering once more. You realize what’s happening when you feel his cock twitch inside of you, your eyes widening in excitement.

“You’re gonna cum like this? I haven’t even cum yet, but you can’t help it, right? Didn’t know my good boy could be so dirty.”

He cums inside of you, hips moving against yours as you continue to fuck him. You can feel his cum slip out of your cunt, making a mess between your thighs. He’s moaning loudly, his cock softening inside of you. You laugh out at him, “You came so fast, it felt too good, right? I still need to cum,” you pout, letting your hips take over, “you’ll let me cum, yeah?”

You continue to fuck down onto him, feeling his cock twitch despite how much it might hurt for him right now. He’s fucking his hips into yours, crying out at the pain bleeding into pleasure. You rub your clit down onto him, grinding down slowly, “You know, I never thought that you’d ask me to do this. Thought you’d be able to fuck me every single time.”

He nods, not hearing you clearly as he follows your movements, cock hardening inside of you again. His cum mixed with your slick, stickiness all over his thighs as you move on top of him. He’d have it no other way, watching your face, showing him that you’re just as affected as he is. His hand reaches for yours, placing it softly on his throat. He looks at you, eyes begging you to do something.

You let out a shaky moan, feeling his cock twitch inside you when you slightly tighten your grip on his neck. “You’re still surprising me, can’t ever be satisfied with just one thing.”

You tighten your grip, moving your hips faster against him, him letting out little puffs of air. His eyes roll to the back of his skull, a soft whimper leaving his mouth, “I like you so much, mommy. I’d let you do anything to m-me.”

You let go of his throat, nearly toppling over him as you reach to kiss him. He tries to catch his breath between kisses, hands moving to your hips, moving your hips for you as you focus on him. It’s all too much, your love for him and your cunt clenching around him making it much more intense. 

“Wanna cum with you, mommy. Wanna feel your pretty pussy cum all over my cock.”

You nod, whining out to him as you bounce on his cock, tightly sucking his cock into you. Your hands reach his nipples, toying with them, silently begging him to cum already. He kisses you messily, moaning into your mouth as he finally fills you up once again. He ruts his hips into yours, trying to get you to cum. It doesn’t take much, curling into him as your orgasm washes over you, Haechan whimpering out from how tight you’re clenching around him.

You’re lying on top of him, breaths heavy as you recover from your orgasm. You look at him through bleary eyes, hands moving to wipe the tears off of his face. You slip him out of you, his thighs shaking as you do. He’s warm, melting into your touch as you sigh at him, “You did so good for me, baby. You were such a good boy.”

He smiles at you, not saying anything else as he wraps his arms tightly around you, pressing your chest against his. It’s like this for a while, listening to his heartbeat in his chest while he traces patterns on your back. It reminds you of the other night, before this all started. You grin to yourself, realizing just how lucky you are to have a boyfriend like Haechan.

He mumbles out, too tired to properly speak, “You take such good care of me.”

It almost makes you cry in a way. Now you know how Haechan feels, to give someone your everything during sex. It’s honest, your love spilling out in everything you do. You felt like you were able to pay him back for all he does for you when you whine and beg. You whisper out, not trusting your voice, “It’s only because you take such good care of me.”

A few moments pass, and you remember, “How did you know what I was supposed to do during sex? Like, choking and all that stuff.”

His eyes closed in embarrassment, “Well, the other night I kinda… got off to… all these porn videos?” 

You stare at him in amazement. You really are lucky to have someone like him. 

Months have passed since the first time you dominated him.

Your relationship feels almost as if it were new, enjoying how Haechan tells you each of his thoughts. Hours of nonstop teasing him, him whining in your ear to make him cum. Days where he’s pushing your limits, getting off in front of you in order to get your attention. He says he’s willing to try everything that you want, willing to take any pleasure you give him because it’s you.

There is one thing that you want to try.

You know how jealous he gets of Mark when he’d subtly eye you, jealous that someone wants to take his sweet girlfriend from him. Jealous that his best friend was willing to call you mommy. Although he never really brings it up himself, you can tell that he’s quite possessive of you. Nights where he’d beg to cum in you, beg to let everyone know that you’re his proves your thoughts. 

Although you think getting pregnant would be a surefire way to get Mark off your back, you think it might be easier to show him up close. You come up with a plan to let Mark see you and Haechan in a way he hasn’t seen before.

For a week, you deny Haechan’s advances towards you. You swat his hands away when he tries to grope your ass. You wear a tank top and tiny shorts around him. You whine and beg for him and once he shows interest, you ignore him. At first, he thinks being blatantly ignored is kind of hot because, of course, he’s like that. At the end of the week, he outwardly tells you he tried jerking off but couldn’t cum because he needed you to do it. Brat.

You decide to make your move after the week has ended. You text him after your class and ask if you could make a surprise visit. He agrees and you make your way to his apartment. You find him sitting at his desk, playing Overwatch with another person. You greet him and plant a soft kiss on his lips. Before you can pull away, he deepens the kiss, hands pushing your face towards him. You chuckle lightly, “Focus on your game, Haechan.”

“Can’t. Not when my baby looks so good today.” You hear a muted gag through his headset, and Haechan quickly tells his friend to shut the fuck up. You laugh at his antics, his arms wrapped around your waist, nuzzling his face into your stomach. You brush your fingers through his hair, and he lightly groans. You untangle yourself from his grip, moving to lay on his bed.

“Who are you playing with?” You ask

“Just Mark. Why?” He responds, a hint of jealousy in his voice when you haven’t even done anything yet.

“I was just wondering…” You make yourself comfortable on his bed. 

He hums, resuming his game with Mark. You scroll through your phone, hearing the occasional swearing at Mark for not playing as good. You watch him from his bed, how focused he is on his game, his shorts showing off his pretty thighs, his fingers that tap against his keyboard. You bite your lip, putting your phone down to slowly make your way to Haechan.

He eyes you, smiling at you right by his side. He pats his thighs, silently asking you to sit on his lap. You happily agree, plopping yourself down as he wraps his arms around his back, waiting for another game to start. You sigh, nuzzling your face into his shoulder as you feel the vibrations in his chest from the chuckle he lets out, “My pretty baby, you look so cute right now.”

Before you can reply, you hear Mark speak through Haechan’s headphones. You can’t hear him clearly, but you do hear your name, which puts a frown on Haechan’s face. Haechan quickly tells him to mind his business, telling him to focus on the game that’s about to start. Haechan made this too easy, you think, relaxing into his touch as he begins his game. There’s words being exchanged, and every time Haechan gets a kill, he happily kisses you.

You think there might be a better reward other than a kiss. As the game continues, you begin to shift in his lap, pretending to get more comfortable in Haechan’s lap. You can hear how his hands stutter against his keyboard, quickly regaining his composure, thinking it was an innocent action. You smile to yourself, your boyfriend trying to hold himself back.

It’s not until you softly grind yourself onto his bare thigh, pressing light kisses on his neck. You can feel how hot he’s gotten, not really knowing what to do. It’s when he realizes that you’re only wearing panties under your shirt that he has to mute his mic to look at you increduously, mouth wide open. You say in a breathy voice, “Need you so bad, Haechan, wanna feel you…”

He whispers as if Mark could still hear him, “B-but, I’m still playing my game… and Mark could hear you…”

You can feel his cock twitch against your thigh, “You can be quiet, can't you? I won’t move, just wanna feel you in me.”

His round eyes look into yours as his hands rub against your thighs. He looks like he wants to kiss you, but he’s interrupted by a shout from Mark asking where he’s at. He quickly agrees to your words, pressing a quick kiss on your lips before unmuting his mic, asking Mark to once again mind his business.

You start your ministrations on him, rubbing the tent in his shorts, feeling how his cock grows under your touch. He bites his lips, trying to concentrate on his game, but getting distracted by your touch. He can feel how wet you are on his thigh, mind almost falling apart from how much you’re enjoying this. He shifts his hips once he’s hard, begging you to pull down his shorts.

He lifts his hips, helping you pull them down and seeing how he was wearing no boxers under his shorts. You eye his face, watching the pretty blush form on his face at your realization. You push one side of his headphones off of his ear as you whisper, “Gonna put it in now.”

His eyes move away from his screen as you pull your panties aside, teasing his tip along your slit before putting it at your entrance. You watch as he mouths out a please, his eyes fluttering shut as you slide yourself down his cock. You can feel how his thighs shake under yours as you sit down on him, holding himself back from bucking up into your heat. He can feel how warm and wet your walls are, your slick dripping down his cock.

He’s twitching heavily inside of you, and you have to hold back a laugh from how hard he’s trying right now. He has to stop whimpers from falling out of his mouth even if you’re not doing anything. You swirl your hips a bit, causing Haechan to let out a small whine as he ruts into you. You quickly mute his mic for him, hearing how Mark protests on the other end, “If you get some kills, I’ll start moving. If not, I’ll just sit here waiting for you. Is that alright, baby?”

He nods, lurching forward once more to kiss you messily. You laugh, motioning him to unmute his mic. You press your finger against your lips, reminding him one last time to be quiet. A shaky hand reaches to his mic, quickly answering Mark’s concerns, “It-it was nothing, I just hit my elbow on the desk.”

Another game starts, signaled by Haechan’s fingers against his keyboard. You continue your kisses on his neck, your tongue licking up his neck to his jaw. You can feel him shudder as his cock twitches inside of you. He tries to buck up into you, but you press down on his hips with your hands, stopping his movements. His eyes find yours, practically begging you to do something. You just smile, reminding him about the promise you made with him.

He bites his lip once more as he focuses on his screen, hearing the clicking of his keys. There are jumbled sounds coming from Mark’s end, apparently telling Haechan to hurry up. You can tell Haechan gets frustrated with him as he properly moves up, focusing on his screen to stop Mark from saying anything else. When you hear a ding from his headphones, saying how he’s gotten a kill, you begin to grind down on his cock.

He lets out the smallest whimper, hips pushing into yours as he shuts his eyes, trying to fend off any sounds that might come out of him. He can feel how deep he is inside of you with how slow you’re grinding against him. His hands are shaking, fingers messily moving against his keys. As soon as he starts getting more worked up, you begin to stop, laying forward against his chest.

He wants to start begging for you to move, but with Mark on the other side, he’s scared he might hear him. So he sits there, focusing on his game, trying to get another kill.

“Thought you were good at this game, baby. Making me sit here and wait for you to win,” you say, getting impatient with him. He shakes his head no, and you roll your eyes, “You still have to talk, Haechan. Poor Mark is waiting for you, too.”

Haechan hates how you bring up Mark while he’s literally inside of you. He shifts his weight around, lightly moving you against him. He can feel you clench around him, using every muscle in his body trying not to moan out into his mic. He wonders if that’s what you really want to do, and as he takes a quick glance at you, he sees the small smirk drawn out on your face. He lets out a shaky breath, excitement taking over thinking about what you might do.

After a few more minutes, he can tell how impatient you’re getting. It’s not his fault for missing so many shots, not when you’re tightly wrapped around his aching cock. You press kisses along his skin as your hands trail underneath his shirt, lightly scratching along abdomen. He can feel how you subtly move on top of him, trying to get off along with him.

“Thought you said you were good at video games,” you say a little louder, “if you were, I wouldn’t have to sit here to wait for you.”

Before he can respond, he’s cut off by you placing a hand on his chest, allowing you to sit up. You slide off of his cock, pressing a quick peck on his lips before slamming your hips down onto him. He lets out a loud whimper, hands leaving his keyboard in order to hold onto your sides. You look at his face scrunched up in pleasure, completely overwhelmed by how you’re fucking him.

“Can you tell mommy how good she’s making you feel?”

His eyes look into yours, bleary from the tears that threaten to fall from his eyes. He’s embarrassed and clearly aware of Mark being on the other side. Your hands make their way to his nipples, pinching them harshly, “If you don’t tell me, I’ll leave you here, make you cum by yourself with Mark still on call.”

At the thought, Haechan moans loudly, his words piercing through the air, “Fuck, mommy- making me feel so good! Need you to fuck- want you to- want you keep riding me!”

You can hear a loud, confused sound coming from Haechan’s headphones, but no sign of Mark leaving the call. At Haechan’s words, you put all your energy into riding him. He no longer cares about how loud he’s being, mixtures of whimpers and whines of your name along with the slapping of skin against skin fill the room. 

“Sitting so nicely for me, letting me use you like you’re a toy. You like that, don’t you?” You emphasize your words with a quick tug of his hair, his hips bucking up into yours from the pain. As you try to move your hand away from his hair, he moves to keep your hand there, his round eyes asking you for more. How could you deny him?

“Use me as much as you want. Wanna be mommy’s toy forever!”

Drool slips past his lips, whispering out a messy boy as your thumb goes to the corner of his mouth to clean him up. You move your thumb over his lips, pushing past them and into his mouth. His tongue circles around, his moans muffled around you. You see how his eyes practically beg for more and more despite being consumed by pleasure. You can hear how there’s another game starting behind you, clearly hearing Mark still on call.

“Only I can have you like this, right? No one can fuck me better than my pretty boy.”

He nods, sucking your thumb as he begins to move his hips in rhythm to yours. Tears are welling up in his eyes again, your words affirming every thought in his mind. You know how much he likes to be praised, how much he likes being told that he’s doing a good job. You coo at him as tears begin to spill, your cunt clenching around him tightly to where his hips stutter against yours.

“You’re the only one that gets to see me like this. Isn’t that right, Mark?” Haechan removes himself from your thumb in order to moan out at your words, and you can hear how Mark disconnects from the game and from the call.

“Finally,” you moan out, rolling your hips faster onto Haechan, “he was taking too long to get off the call. Probably wanted to see how good I take care of my sweet boy, hm?”

“Yes! You take care of me so good, can’t believe I’m yours. Wanna show everyone that you’re mine!” He’s thrusting into you quickly, his tip hitting your sweet spot. You can feel how his body is shaking under yours, overwhelmed by you taking everything from him. 

“Now Mark knows that you belong to me, that I don’t want anyone but you,” you say as you lick up his throat. His hips are stuttering against yours, close to cumming inside of you. You take his hand to your clit, trying to get him to get you off. In a whiny voice close to his, you ask, “Wanna cum with you, won’t you let me cum with my pretty boy?”

He can feel himself fall apart under you, the sight of you on top of him, using him for your own pleasure takes over his mind. He’s not sure what you just said, mind only thinking about you. He nods dumbly, fingers moving sloppily against your clit. He thrusts into you, trying to help you cum before him. He can hear your sharp whine as your face buries itself into his shoulder, and feels how your walls clench tightly around him as you cum.

He lightly thrusts up into you, his cum shooting into you as he whimpers and cries out to you. He’s not sure by how loud he’s being, but by how you move to kiss him, he’s sure that he’s being louder than you. Your tongues messily press against each other as you ride yourselves through your orgasms, feeling how he twitches inside of you. You pull off of him, a small whimper from sensitivity slipping out of Haechan.

“You did so good for me… just wanted to show my baby how much I wanted him…”

His tired eyes are filled with love when he looks at you, “Couldn’t have asked for anything more, love how you treat me. I just… I love you.”

You shyly laugh as you move to kiss him, letting all the love you have for him speak for itself. He holds you by your sides, smiling into the kiss as you giggle against him. There’s nowhere more you’d rather be than right here, enjoying your boyfriend and everything he has to offer you.

It’s not until you’re interrupted by Haechan’s phone ringing, making you both groan out. He begrudgingly picks it up, immediately smiling and showing you his phone.

[markly] 11:48, you guys are FREAKS

[markly] 11:48, YOU KNOW I WAS JOKING RIGHT… ABOUT EVERYTHING I SAID…

[markly] 11:48, KEEP ME OUT OF YOUR BUSINESS PLEASEEE 🙏 (or dont)

You smile as you read Mark’s texts off of Haechan’s phone. Your boyfriend laughs into your neck as he puts his phone down, wrapping both arms around you. You don’t think you’d want this any other way.

a/n: GOD. this was so long for no reason but im glad its out... i always wondered how people could write more than 10k but now I Get It. THANK YOU FOR READING!!!

taglist: @mwahaechz @froggyforyoongi @hrts4doie @jenodreamer

[qrrieterisunnq]

the blush of morning departures - Jack Hughes

Jack Hughes x fem!reader Summary: Jack is about to leave for morning practice. You ask him if he’s forgotten anything, and Jack gives you a kiss. Your cheeks turn red and you open your hand to reveal Jack’s phone and keys saying ‘I meant this, but thanks.’ request: yes/no A/N: Hello! Welcome to my first story on Tumblr. I hope you will like it. I become a Hughes Girl. Everything I write is a figment of my imagination! And, sorry for my English, it's not my first language, so be patient with me and don't hesitate to correct me if you find any error. gif not mine likes are good, reblogs are better <3 word count: 1K warning(s): pregnancy, soft Jack, unedited

masterlist | wip's

You’re laying in your bed, head tucked under the blanket, because of your extremely hot and active boyfriend, who has early morning practice. He’s pacing around the house packing his gear and making his food.

With a groan, you get out of bed, and just in Jack’s huge shirt, you make your way down to the living room, where you sit down, turning on the TV.

Jack gets out of the bathroom, walking through the living room, not noticing you. You smile to yourself shaking your head. Every morning, when he has practice he’s so caught up with his routine that he barely notices things around him.

"Oh, I’m sorry Cherry, I didn’t mean to wake you up." he sighs when he finally notices you lying under a blanket on the couch.

"It’s okay, I’m used to it." you smiled tiredly, and you extended your hand in his direction.

With a smile on his face, he grabs my hand and pulls it to his mouth to kiss it. "You look gorgeous." he smiles brushing the hair off my face.

"You don’t look bad yourself too." you chuckle caressing his cheek.

"Thank you, Cherry." he laughed shaking his head. You smile closing your eyes for a while.

"I made you breakfast, blueberry pancakes with blueberry sauce and blueberry smoothie"” you laughed at this. Yesterday when you were shopping you bought two kilos of blueberry because they had a great price and you both love them, so.

"Thank you, baby." you laughed kissing his hand.

"I’m going to get my bag and pack my gear okay? You go eat or it will get cold and most of all you have to eat so that our little one can grow," he says protectively extending his hand to my slightly large belly.

"Okay, but first, you have to help me stand up." laughing he helps you up and immediately pulls you in a tight hug, bending down to kiss your template.

"Thank you." sighing out you whisper in his chest breathing in his scent.

"Go eat, I’ll be right back." he pulls away and makes his way into your bedroom.

You walk into the kitchen sit down on the chair with little struggle and start eating the best pancakes you've ever eaten. It is no secret that Jack is an amazing cooker and you're grateful for him because you would probably burn up our kitchen if you tried to cook something.

While you’re eating, Jack is packing his gear as he’s thinking about what will you two do in the afternoon, when he comes back from practice. He’d like to take you to this one restaurant in Jersey he found last week when he and his teammates were heading to the bar to celebrate their win.

He loves to spoil you and show you how much he loves you. When he comes home after a game, you did not attend, he brings you something. Whether it’s ice cream, flowers, or even stupid Oreo, he’s always looking for the smile on your face when he gives it to you.

Before he leaves your bedroom, he paces towards his nightstand to check out if the black velvet ring box is still safe in the drawer. He bought the ring a few weeks ago while on his roadie in Washington. He saw it on the street and had to buy it knowing, now is the right time, to ask you. After all, you’ll have a baby in no matter of time and you’re the love of his life.

He gets up, tosses the bag around his shoulder, and makes his way down the hallway into the kitchen to say goodbye to you before he leaves.

"Okay babe, I will leave in a few," Jack’s voice comes from the hall, where he puts on his Nike sneakers in the meantime so he doesn't have to put them on later and go straight to practice.

"Okay," you say with a full mouth of the pancakes. Swallowing the pancakes in your mouth, you stick another piece on the fork.

"Is it good?" he chuckles when he comes into the kitchen and sees you eating his pancakes with full mouth. You nodded and mumbled yes.

"Well I’m glad you like it," he bends down kissing your forehead with a smile on his lips.

"It tastes delicious. Thank you for being my chef," you say after you swallow.

"Yeah, well someone has to cook when you’re able to burn the kitchen down," he laughs sitting down next to me. You stick another piece of pancakes on a fork and put it to his lips, so he can taste it too.

"They taste great," he chuckles, moaning slightly at the taste. Checking his phone he quickly stands up rushing to the hall. "I’ve gotta go princess."

You stand up from the chair, shaking your head, when you see his phone and keys lying down on the table. You grab them in your hand walking to the hall to say goodbye to him.

"Your early lunch is in the fridge, I’ll be home around eleven. Then we can go on a walk," he smiles tossing his bags around his shoulders. „I love you baby and you too baby boy.“ he bends down to pick up his bag making his way to the door.

"Didn’t you forget something?" you ask him, clutching his phone and keys behind your back.

"Sorry." he smiles bending down to peck a kiss on your lips.

Laughing, you remove your hand from behind your back and show him his phone and keys. "I meant this, but thanks."

With a shake of his head, he takes his things from you, pressing down another kiss to your lips. "I fucking love you, woman."

"I love you too," you chuckle at his statement. "Be careful okay? I want my man in one piece before I give birth."

"I will don’t worry, I have Nico to look after me, right? And in a few weeks we’ll have Luke here to look after me too, so don’t worry about me." he chuckles giving you a last kiss before he makes his way out of the house with a loud goodbye.

[starkeysprincess]

Now you have four hehehehehhehe can I get some Rafe and Sarah’s best friend and she’s always had something for him and he just doesn’t seem to notice until she starts getting attention from another guy at a party and that beautiful himbo “sees” her for the first time 💕😭🩷

ily bae 💗 this was my first time writing fluff in YEARS so pls be nice and bare with me cause i'm already nervous abt how it turned out 😭

pairing: bsf!rafe x reader warnings: none really just a bit of soft!rafe word count: 705

Living next door to the Cameron’s for years, allowed you to become best friends with Sarah. The first time you hung out at her house, you met her family, who instantly adored you. Much to Sarah’s surprise, even her older brother, Rafe adored you, which was rare because he never approved or liked any of the friends she brought over.

You were over at their house often, which allowed you to get to know Rafe better and eventually made you just as close as you are with Sarah. Unfortunately, as much as you tried to avoid it, you’ve fallen under the cliche of crushing on your best friend’s brother, who was also your other best friend. 

You’ve tried everything that you could think of to get his attention, hoping that he’d notice but shockingly, no matter how much you tried, he was oblivious to it. You hoped that you’d get his attention in the way you wanted but one day, you saw the way he was looking at other girls. You realized then and there that Rafe would never look in your direction, so, you’ve given up on trying. 

You’ve been trying to avoid him whenever you went over to hang out with Sarah, making excuses anytime you were left alone with him. Rafe figured you were going through something and needed space but the way you were acting continued to go on for weeks.

Sarah knew you liked her brother, you didn’t even have to tell her, she could see the way you looked at him and the way you’d get flustered anytime he was around. Of course, she picked up on how you were acting and decided to drag you to a party, in hopes that it would at least make you forget about her brother, even if it was just for a few hours. 

You were too busy mingling with Sarah and a few mutual friends, finally feeling yourself let loose to notice Rafe showing up. You may not have noticed him but he noticed you, watching you enjoy yourself. He’d occasionally glance over in your direction, his eyes remaining on you when you walked away from your friends to get another drink. 

He didn’t pay much attention, his focus going back to his conversation with Topper and Kelce until he heard you giggling. When he looked back over towards where you stood, he was clenching his jaw at the sight of you talking to Logan, who had his hand resting on the small of your back. Topper and Kelce’s voices are fading from his ears as he’s downing the rest of his drink, making his way over towards the two of you. 

“Hey, princess” Rafe’s voice is heard from behind you, making you turn around, “Didn’t know you were here” he smirks, ignoring Logan. “Can’t you see that we’re talking?” Logan mutters, clearly annoyed, which only makes Rafe chuckle, “Yeah, and now you’re done talkin’ if you know what’s good for you”.

Logan rolls his eyes, looking between the two of you before snorting and stomping away. “Are you serious, Rafe?” you scoff, “What? Just wanna talk to you, s’all” he shrugs. “You’re unbelievable, I was talking to him” you shook your head, “Okay? Now you can talk to me”. 

You shoved past him, walking away, only for him to chase after you. “Hey, wait for a second, don’t walk away” he grabs your wrist, pulling you back to him until you're pressed against him, “Look, I’m sorry, alright. That was a dick move on my part” he mutters, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Oh, so you admit that you were being a dick” you snort, looking up at him, your eyes immediately softening when you stare into his eyes.

“Just this once” he playfully shrugs, “I’ll admit, I might’ve been a bit jealous”. He takes in the way your eyebrows furrow, “Jealous? Why would you be jealous? He and I were just talking-” your rambling is quickly cut off by the feeling of Rafe’s lips on yours. You can feel yourself melting into the kiss before he pulls away, “Does that answer your question or do I have to kiss you again?”.

tagging: @oceandriveab @babygorewhore @hallecarey1 @heartsforvin @sturnioloshacker @xxbimbobunnyxx @rafesthroatbaby @eternalbuckley @nemesyaaa @ihe4rttwd @starkeyisthelastname @kisses4angel @hyperfixationgirl @emilysuperswag @starkeysheart @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @fae-of-prey @amandabbbbb @rafecameroninterlude @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @spid6y @chimindity @starkeysbebe @spacexdrago @honeybunniesoobin @juniebugg @strawberrydolly333

[pitchsidestories]

my kink is karma II Alexia Putellas x Reader

a/n: Hi, we hope you've as much fun with the oneshot as we had writing it.

masterlist I word count: 1695

Champions League nights were always magical, no matter who the opponent was. But a Champions League final against record champion Olympique Lyonnais promised an even more special night.

After Barcelonas loss against the same team in the final two years prior, they had something to prove. So of course, the atmosphere among the team was a mixture between excitement and nervousness.

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest right before the game started. You hugged your teammates and wished them a good game, partly to calm their anxiety and partly to calm your own.

“What about me?”, Alexias voice sounded from behind you.

As you turned around, she stood there, her arms wide open with a winning smile on her face.

You looked her up and down before jokingly saying: “You? Well…”

“Well?!”, she echoed, playing offended.

You winked at her: “A goal from you later would be perfect, you know why.”

You could still feel Alexias eyes following you as you took your position on the pitch.

While the referee blew her whistle, signaling the start of the game, the bench was still busy discussing what just had happened.

“What did she mean, Ale?”, Vicky asked, barely able to contain her curiosity.

Alexia shrugged: “Nothing.”

The young striker wrinkled her nose: “I don’t believe you.”

“Focus on the game, kiddo.”, Alexia laughed, nodding in the direction of the pitch.

“I’m not a kid, you’re just old.”, Vicky retorted with a grin.

Mapi joined the conversation with an innocent look on her face: “She’s not wrong about that, Ale.”

“I’ll show you guys old!”, Alexia rolled her eyes with fondness.

Ona grinned at her: “Y/n wants a goal from you!”

“From the bench?”, Mapi asked, her eyebrows raised.

“No, when she’s coming on.”, Ona explained.

“More like if she’s coming on.”, Mapi corrected her.

While the two defenders giggled, Alexia just shook her head: “Of course I’m coming on!”

You realized quickly that the game would not be an easy win. Lyon had their chances but so did Barcelona. For almost an hour, it was an even match but you could feel that your team wanted it more. And then Aitana scored.

“Well done, Tana!”, you yelled as you ran towards her to celebrate.

She hugged you tightly: “Thanks!”

From this moment on, your priority was to defend the lead and try to put your strikers into goal scoring situations.

In the ninetieth minute, Alexia came on. Your heart skipped a beat while she joined you on the pitch. But you also felt some kind of anger. There were only six minutes left to play.

Alexia made the most out of it. 120 seconds after coming on, she scored the 2:0 for Barcelona.

You could barely contain your happiness as you watched your girlfriend run across the pitch while pulling her shirt over her head to celebrate.

You had to blink away some tears as you followed her and pulled her into a celebratory hug: “Ale!”

 “You got the goal you wanted after all.”, she retorted with a smug smile on her face. Despite her cocky attitude you could see that her hazelnut eyes were turning wet. The captain of your team was overtaken by her own emotions.

Everyone could see how much it meant for the midfielder to score in the final against a team to whom you both lost twice in a final.

“You deserve it so much, Ale.”, you whole-heartedly whispered into her ear, not sure if Alexia was even able to understand you as the noise in the stadium escalated.

Embracing you for one last time the Blonde had to let you go, not before muttering close to your face, giving you chills everywhere:” This one is for us.”

“Yeah, yeah, very romantic, but we still got a few minutes to play.”, Lucy interrupted the emotional moment between you two grinning before throwing the midfielder’s jersey back to Alexia who slowly put it back on.

“Lucy.”, your girlfriend rolled her eyes annoyed at the English defender.

“Let’s go.”, Lucy replied unimpressed.

“Don’t worry, we’ll celebrate that goal later.”, you promised Alexia winking.

“I can’t wait.”, she replied.

“Hey! Enough now!”, the older English player yelled impatiently by your lovebird’s behaviour.

“You don’t understand, Lucia.”, you protested laughing.

“We’ve four minutes left.”, she said unmoved by your quite visible emotional turmoil.

“Only four more minutes.”, you repeated to yourself. In fact, they felt like the longest minutes in Champions League history. Your legs were so tired, when the referee blew the final whistle, you fell to your knees, simply from exhaustion and happiness.

Barcelona has won, a second time in a row. It was Alexia's, your teammates and your triumph against Lyon at last. This was unbelievable.

“We did it!”, Alexia rejoiced, standing right next to you.

“Yes, we did.”, you answered cheerfully, before you added with a worried glance at your girlfriend, careful, don’t trip over!”

Your warning came too late, the Barcelona captain fell ungraciously over her own boots, lucky for her she landed very softly on top of your body.

“Girls, the children are still here!”, Sandra shouted at you, although the goalkeeper couldn’t hide her amusement by what just had happened.

“Shut up, Sandra.”, Alexia demanded, her usual stern face was now full of giddiness and excitement. It felt like the young girl who became a fan of Barcelona and fell in love with the club and football had overtaken her in that very second.

“Yeah, nothing to see here.”, you giggled.

“Exactly.”, the captain confirmed, while pressing a kiss to your already blushed cheek.

“You should get up now though, the press wants interviews with you both.”, Irene intervened seriously.

“Coming.“, Alexia said, carefully lifting herself off of you.

You immediately followed suit, brushing the grass of your shirt and short before hurrying to your interview.

The young journalist thrusted a microphone towards you: “Y/n, what does the CL win mean to you?“

“It means so much to me. I know people questioned whether we would be able to keep up with last years performance. But I think we proved that here tonight.“, you said. Your gaze subconsciously shifting towards Alexia who was interviewed on the other side of the stadium.

“You certainly did. Thanks for taking the time and have fun celebrating.“

You grinned at the journalist: “Gracias.“

Turning away from the camera, you were greeted by Alexia: “Done?“

“Yes, what about you?“, you asked, hoping that she was done with her media duties for the night as well.

“Me too.“

Alexia took your hand into hers, gently pulling you away from the cameras and the bustle on the field.

“Wait, where are you taking me?“, you laughed while you followed her.

“Somewhere more private.“, Alexia smiled.

You grinned: “Sounds like a good idea.“

“Come on.“

“I’m right behind you.“, you assured her while Alexia opened the door to your hotel room and pulled you in.

“So here we’re.“, you said, patiently waiting for her to make a move.

She nodded, her shoulders slumping in relaxation: “Finally.“

You wrapped your arms around her: “Oh yes, tonight was unbelievable…“

“You were unbelievable.“, she corrected you softly.

“So where you. After everything that happened in the past year.“ You were absolutely in awe about how much your girlfriend had fought to come back after her ACL injury, the setbacks she had injury-wise and with the conditions of the Spanish national team and how she dealt with the little game time she got.

People had started to doubt that she would ever come back as the World’s best football player but you knew, it was only a matter of time.

Apparently, Alexia felt a similar way. All the hard work she put in was finally worth it. She blinked the wetness in her eyes away: “Thank you. It means so much to me to have scored this goal tonight…“

“I can only imagine.“

Alexias hand come down on your thigh, right above your left knee. The bright red of the injury from the Champions League final two years ago had faded and only left a scar.

You both knew the injury was something that had bothered you for a long time. Alexia did not have to say a word, you knew what she meant but you only shook your head: “That was nothing compared to Ona tonight… that moment was really scary.“

“Ona’s tough.”, your girlfriend remarked softly.

“That’s true. Plus, she’s in good hands with Lucy.”, you were smiling fondly as you were thinking about your teammates who’s love for each other was so visible after the win.

“You don’t have to worry about it.”, Alexia declared earnestly.

“I don’t.”, you cleared your throat before you continued, close your eyes, what do you see?”

For a moment the Blonde gave you a questioning look, afterwards she dd as you told her. A huge grin was forming on her lips:” Us celebrating.”

“A very iconic moment.”, you answered mirroring her happiness while you were slowly undressing yourself.

“Oh, not this one. The next one.”, Alexia quickly corrected herself.

“The next one?”, you lifted an eyebrow which she couldn’t see, but your voice transported your surprise.

“Next year.”, the midfielder confirmed.

“What about now? You can open your eyes again.”, you offered her trying to sound nonchalantly and hide the excitement which you felt running through your veins right now.

“Now, I see you.”, Alexia swallowed hard while her eyes who appeared dark green under the light of the bedside lamp wandered through your almost entirely naked body.

“Liking what you see?”, you asked her in a cheeky tone knowing fully well what your girlfriend was feeling when she looked at you.

“You look so beautiful right now.”, the player replied, licking her lips as she bridged the distance between you both to gave you a passionate kiss. When her kink was karma, triumph never tasted as good as with you by her side.

It was going to be a long night and you couldn’t wait to get started with your own private celebration. The public could wait until tomorrow, now was your time to enjoy the win.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

Currently rewatching cm rn and i saw that you requests are open and i honestly love your blog and your writing so i decided to make a request.So i was thinking,spencer is in jail and when reader goes to see him she tells him that she’s pregnant (yk that scene where jj shows him henry draw?Instead is reader showing him the ultrasound)sorry if this doesn’t make any sense,hope you have a great night/day🩷🫶🏻

i was trying to find that scene you were talking about but couldn’t, but i get what you mean. liaison!fem reader

spencer was being framed and you haven’t seen him in a month. the team kept work on his case while dealing with the active ones, whenever there was a spare moment you’d look over the files collected and try to see if something might stick out to you. you weren’t a seasoned profiler, but you’ve been around them for ten years that bits and pieces get picked up.

you needed spencer, you needed his arms wrapped around you so you could sleep soundly. you needed his random facts so you could always ask him more questions. you needed his sweet kisses and delicate hands leaving you dreamy and breathless.

you needed your husband so you didn’t have to raise your child alone. a palm rubbed over your small bump, one of spencer’s sleep shirts swallowing your figure. “i’m gonna bring daddy home. don’t worry.” whispering choked as you were hunched at your dining table with the scattered files staring up at you.

tomorrow was your day to visit spencer. you’ll bring the ultrasound picture with you so he could maybe sneak it onto his person. you wanted to give him another reason to keep himself safe as the days tick by.

there were many different families in the visiting room, young children were even sat at the cold metal tables. your knee kept bouncing from anxiety and your fingers held onto small photo, you tried not to bend or curl it.

you perked up when one by one, inmates were escorted to their tables. the officers reminding everyone, “no physical touch from inmate or visitor.” you took a shaky exhale when spencer’s tall figure entered the room, he looked unharmed.

he sat down across from you, his messy curls starting to grow longer. “hi honey,” eyes getting watery at the forced separation. spencer’s smile wobbled, “hi love.”

“i- i brought you some news, it’s not for the- the case. but it’s good news.” you slowly placed the photo on the table and slid it towards spencer then pulled back, just feeling his fleeting warmth as he pulled the paper closer.

he stared down at it, mouth slightly agape. “is- is this real?” he asked quietly. his eyes looked to you and you nodded with a few tears sliding down your cheeks, “i’m three months along.”

spencer licked his lips then dragged his palms down his face, “holy shit.” you heard his whisper. you stuffed your hands under your thighs, “are- are you happy?” voice cracked on the word happy.

spencer was quick to snap his eyes to you, his eyes softening and brows pinching. he started to reach a hand out, but pulled it back to the photo. “of course. this is the best thing to happen to us, i’m just- i’m just worried. emily said it might be awhile and im worried that i’ll miss so much with you and the baby, they might not even know who i am when i’m released.”

you didn’t want to get his hopes up, you didn’t want to get your hopes up. “we’re working on it twenty four seven. it shouldn’t be long before you’re free, and i always play the recording of your ted talks or lectures when i go to sleep. it calms both of us.”

you always made sure to talk about spencer with your growing fetus. making sure you constantly remind them, “your daddy loves you. he’s just somewhere for the time being, but he’ll be home soon.”

the guards reappeared and told everyone their time was up. “keep it,” you jerked your chin at the photo. spencer quickly slipped it into his uniform pocket and stood from the table, hesitating for a moment. “i love you. i love you both.” he said before leaving the room.

[sceletaflores]

you need a seat? i’ll volunteer!

pairing: tashi duncan x fem!reader

summary: how much of a selfish douche does patrick have to be to not beg tashi to sit on his face every night? you certainly would.

—or: you show tashi what she’s missing out on…

word count: 3.7k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, girl kissing, oral (fem!receiving), fingering (fem!receiving) but not really, cheating (i can't stop lmao), patrick catching strays, a hint of "there's only one bed" trope, kinda sad angsty wlw pining, like this got a little depressing at the end lmao, more plot than i thought it would have when i started writing it (i physically can't not write so much plot it's a disease), no use of y/n.

author's note: AHHH HAPPY PRIDE!!! this is purely self indulgent lmao no one asked for this but i just had to write it. this is my first ever wlw fic!!! I know, please stop clapping, it was my duty to post one during pride month. i'm still writing the homoerotic wlw friendship fic, i promise it's coming! i just wrote this one way faster than i thought i would lol okay hope you love it! mwah xoxo

You and Tashi sit across from each other on the bed of some fancy hotel room in Texas the night before a match against UT with a new, exciting charge in the air between you.

Actually, the two of you sit on the only bed in the room after a mix up with the hotel’s booking but “You girls are close, you don’t mind sharing? Right?”

Your coach was right, you don’t mind sharing at all. Not one bit.

You and Tashi were more than close. The two of you have been best friends since middle school, and playing tennis with each other just as long. Whether it was playing side by side or with one of you standing on the opposite end of the court. It was you and her, always.

You realized your feelings for Tashi Duncan were a little more than platonic when you were 15 years old. You were staying the night at her house, laying on her bed with your legs tangled together under the covers watching Mean Girls as Tashi idly braided your hair. It was during the Halloween party scene where Cady catches Regina and Aaron kissing when Tashi spoke up, breaking the comfortable silence between you. “Have you ever kissed a boy like that?”

You just shook your head silently, leaning further into her hands as Cady stormed out of the party on-screen. You didn’t know why she was asking you, you told her everything. If a boy kissed you like that she’d be the first to know. Tashi was silent for a few more seconds, tying off the end of your braid and resting her hands on your shoulders. 

“I could show you how,” she had said, “You know, for when guys want to kiss you like that.”

You immediately felt your heart start to race, palms suddenly sweaty. Her suggestion caught you off guard, but you think you heard that girls actually do stuff like that. It’s just practice, it’s not like it’s a big deal. Plus Tashi’s your best friend, you trust her.

You turned up to face her, searching her eyes for any hint of a joke, but you found nothing. Her face was earnest, bottom lip trapped between her teeth as she looked down at you, and her eyes filled with a mix of mischief and something deeper. 

“Okay,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Tashi smiled, moving closer until your faces were inches apart. You closed your eyes as your breath mingled with hers, her hand settling softly on your jaw. The first touch of her lips was soft and sweet, sending a shiver down your spine. 

You gave in, parting your lips to let her tongue brush against yours. You felt something deep inside of you slot into place, like a missing puzzle piece finding its home. You got lost in the moment, mind going blank and fuzzy as your tongues explored each other's mouths. The thought of kissing boys suddenly felt unimportant and distant with Tashi’s lips moving against yours. 

All too soon she was pulling back, her face soft and flushed. “See? Not so scary,” she said with a smile, you swore you could hear a slight tremor in her voice. She brushed her thumb across your cheek once before she laid back against the headboard and cast her gaze to the movie still playing.

“Yeah…” you trailed off, leaning against her to watch Regina get hit by the bus. Your mind was still buzzing, the feel and taste of Tashi lingering on your lips.

That kiss changed everything for you, but the two of you never talked about it again. Tashi woke up the next morning as if nothing had changed, smiling at you over breakfast talking a thousand miles a minute about the new tennis club in town. It’s been years since then, years of pretending like you’re not really in love with Tashi Duncan, that it was just a phase. You just adore her so much, a totally normal platonic best friend kind of adoration, that’s all.

It’s well past the time you and Tashi should have been asleep by now, pre-match jitters and excitement keeping the two of you up late. You’d been talking for hours already, and somehow the topic has shifted into raunchier territory. Maybe later you’ll blame the pent-up energy for blurring your filter, but for now you were content swapping recaps of the latest hookups you’ve shared with Art for her stories with Patrick. 

The addition of Art and Patrick was definitely a new development in your relationship with Tashi. Two boys who thought they were being discreet following the two of you around the Adidas party all those months ago, taking turns chatting you up on the beach and inviting you back to their hotel room.

Then college started, and Patrick and Tashi were suddenly dating, and things sort of changed. Tashi was spending more time with him, leaving you alone to stew in your anger of feeling like the next best thing. Well not completely alone, Art was always there. In a similar situation as you, with Tashi taking up all of Patricks time when he’d visit campus. Leaving the two of you to sit in Art’s dorm sharing a handle of cheap vodka every time you got kicked out of your room so Tashi and Patrick could have some “alone time”.

Art’s hot, and he seemed to like you so it felt easy enough for the two of you to pair off like Tashi and Patrick did. You wouldn’t call it dating, friends with benefits fit better, but he was a nice distraction from the new Tashi shaped hole in your life, so you indulged. Tashi was overjoyed when she found out, so happy for you in every sense of the word. Constantly badgering you for details, like she was just before your conversation took a complete one-eighty.

“No way Patrick hasn’t asked you to do that before,” you ask a little too loudly, beyond shocked as you stare at Tashi sitting across from you on the mattress. 

She scoffs quietly, shaking her head as she picks at a loose thread sticking out of the comforter. “It’s kinda been all about him lately,” she trails off with a shrug, like that’s a good reason.

Fucking Patrick. You think bitterly, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. What a fucking loser.

You knew he wasn’t good enough for Tashi the second you met him. All flashy bravado and superficial charm, like a peacock strutting around with no substance. Tashi seems to like him enough so you bite your tongue at every dreadful detail she’s told you about their relationship, because you’re such a good friend.

Seriously though, how much of a selfish douchebag does Patrick have to be not to beg Tashi to sit on his face every night? 

You certainly would.

“Art and you do that a lot?” she asks nonchalantly, but her eyes have a certain look to them. One you can’t quite place, they’re sharper than they were before. Maybe even a tiny bit challenging, as if she’s daring you to go there. You were never one to back down from a dare, especially in front of Tashi.

You nod slowly, fingers toying with the edge of your shorts.  “A couple times.”

“How’s it feel.” She makes it sound like a question, you know her well enough to recognize that it’s more like a thinly veiled demand. Her voice is barely above a whisper but she may as well have shouted at the top of her lungs with the way it cuts through the space between you so sharply.

You see flashes of Art red-faced and needy as you knelt on top of him with your knees on either side of his head, of him spilling inside his boxers as you rode his face, using his tongue to get yourself off.

It has warmth pooling in the bottom of your stomach, thighs subconsciously clenching together. You imagine yourself in Art’s place, laying flat on your back as Tashi kneels above you, chasing after the taste of her with your tongue. 

“So good…” You whisper back, voice breathy like you just got done training. You can feel Tashi’s eyes on you, intense and persistent.

You meet her gaze, her familiar brown eyes dark and blown out in a way you’ve never seen before. She looks flushed, her cheeks tinged with the slightest hint of red. Her lips part ever so slightly, revealing a glimpse of teeth as she bites down on her full lower lip, a tiny gesture that sends a zing up your spine. It's like the room's temperature just shot up by ten degrees, creating a kind of heat that makes you feel light-headed.

Tashi’s stare is unwavering, it makes your skin crawl in the best way possible. She looks hungry, you feel a pang of unfiltered need shake your body like thunder. You’ve never felt deja vu before, but you’re guessing it feels something like this.

The offer slips past your lips before you can think of stopping it, “I mean…I could– I could like show you. If you want.”

For a second, there’s silence. All you can hear is the sounds of the city three floors below you flowing in through the window. The distant hum of traffic and faint chatter blend into a muted sound that underscores the tense quiet in your room. You hold your breath, forcing yourself to meet Tashi’s gaze. Every second that passes feels like an eternity, you’re inches away pretending it was a joke, from running away with your tail between your legs.

Then, Tashi’s eyes narrow slightly, her lips curling into a sly smile. She leans closer, bridging the small gap between the two of you, the mattress shifts under her weight. “Show me,” she murmurs, her voice an assertive whisper. The intensity in her eyes deepens, locking you in place.��

Your heart pounds in your chest, each beat echoing in your ears louder than the city noise outside. It wasn’t really a joke when you offered, but you never thought Tashi would actually call your bluff. You thought she’d just laugh, roll her eyes and call you gross with a smile on her face. You swallow hard, a mix of excitement and nerves churning in your stomach.

Tashi’s hand moves to your chin, gently bringing you closer to her. The electricity between you is palpable, a charged connection that sparks and crackles. Her thumb brushes across your lower lip, and you feel yourself leaning into her touch, your body responding before your mind can catch up. 

“Show me,” she repeats, her voice firmer now, a command wrapped in velvet. Her words hang in the air, thick with anticipation and promise. You nod, a small, almost unnoticeable movement.

“We- Art and I - we…uh, usually kiss before,” you try to sound casual. Tashi’s eyes soften, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

“Then kiss me,” she says. You can feel her breath on your skin, warm and inviting. You lift your hand, reaching out slowly. Your fingers brush against the bare skin of her arm, you’ve touched her millions of times before, but this one is different. It’s a hesitant touch that feels both daring and delicate. She doesn't tense or pull away; instead, she leans into your touch, her eyes never leaving yours.

Your throat feels dry, your mind racing, but you push through, your hand glides up her arm, tracing a path to her shoulder. Her skin is smooth, warm under your touch, and you can feel the slight tremor that betrays the relaxed front she’s putting on.

With every inch you cover, you feel more confident, your movements becoming more assured. You lean in, close enough that you can see the slight rise and fall of her chest, hear the faint hitch in her breath. 

It’s been years, but you swear her lips feel the same. It’s far from the slow, sweet, timid kiss you shared on her bed. The moment they touch yours, it’s like a jolt of electricity runs through your veins, reigniting a fire deep within you that never truly died. Tashi’s lips are soft, yet demanding, moving with a hunger that mirrors your own. You can taste the faint hint of her coconut lip balm and something that’s uniquely Tashi, a flavor you had almost forgotten but that comes rushing back with each second that passes. You lose yourself in the rhythm, the pressure, the way her tongue teases yours, exploring, claiming.

If you weren’t so fucking turned on, so fucking wet that you’re drenching your panties, you’d probably laugh. You’d laugh at how easily you ended up back here, kissing Tashi just because she asked you too. You wonder if she’s thinking about that night too, if she ever thinks about it.

Your hands find her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, more needy. Without thinking, you drag Tashi onto your lap, her chest pressing flush against yours as her knees fall on either side of your torso. She responds quickly, her fingers tangling in your hair, grip tight enough to have you softly moaning into the kiss. 

It’s messy, wet, and consuming, with spit mingling as your mouths fight for dominance. Tashi still refusing to let go of the upper-hand even though you’re technically supposed to be the one showing her something, but you don’t mind. She bites your lower lip, hard enough to make you groan, sending a shock-wave of heat straight to your core. Her nails scratch against your scalp, pulling you impossibly closer. The air is thick with the sounds of your ragged breathing and the soft, breathy moans escaping your throats. 

When you finally pull apart, both of you are breathless, your foreheads resting against each other, a small thread of saliva connects your lips before it falls and breaks.

“Show me,” she whispers again, this time softer, almost a plea. And with a newfound confidence, you nod, ready to give her whatever she asks for. 

“Off,” you say impatiently, tugging at the waistband of her shorts. Tashi’s eyes darken, her breaths coming in shallow, rapid gasps as she quickly complies, shimmying out of her shorts and tossing them aside. You waste no time, falling on your back so fast your body bounces on the mattress. You can hear the bed creaking as Tashi crawls towards you again, you can feel the warmth of her as she throws a leg over your hips and starts to make her way up your body. She pauses at your chest, hesitating. She looks down at you, her eyes more unsure and vulnerable than you’ve seen in a long time. You just smile softly, giving her a small nod and bringing your hands up to squeeze her thighs reassuringly. Her body is warm and firm beneath your palms. 

“Tash,” you whisper, thumbs rubbing soothing circles against her skin. “It’s just me.” 

Her eyes search yours for a second longer, the tension melts from her face, and she smiles. A real smile, not the fake one she gives pushy interviewers, one that reaches her eyes. Her vulnerability bleeds into tender determination as she gives you one sharp nod of her head and shuffles the rest of the way up your body.

With a sense of urgency, your fingers hook around the edge of her panties. Tashi’s trembling, her fingers digging into your shoulders, hips lifting slightly to aid you slide her panties to the side.

Being face to face with Tashi Duncan’s cunt feels euphoric. It feels right, like this is where you should have been all along. She’s so wet for you and so beautiful and so perfect and you can hardly wait to taste her.

You lean in, trailing soft, deliberate kisses along her inner thigh, feeling her shiver beneath your touch. Tashi’s breath hitches, a soft moan escaping her lips as you get closer to her core. Her eyes never leave yours, her pupils completely blown out and swallowing up the warm brown.

“Please,” she breathes, her voice strained with longing. The plea sends a thrill through you, has you feeling power drunk because the great Tashi Duncan is begging you. Begging you to touch her, begging you to make her feel good, begging you to make her come.

You lean your head up, you can feel her body tremble as your breath brushes against her. Your lips part, placing a soft kiss directly over her clit, making her squirm and moan softly above you. You flick your tongue out, teasing her, drawing more desperate sounds from her lips. 

The taste of her is intoxicating, flooding your senses and making you crave even more. She tastes like girl sweat, like girl sex, you moan into it, gripping her thighs hard to try in vain to steady yourself.

Tashi’s eyes flutter shut, her head falling back as your tongue slides through the wet slit of her cunt. Her response is immediate, lowering herself down against your tongue as a low moan escapes her lips. Tashi's hips start to move, instinctively seeking more, needing more.

You watch her through half-lidded eyes, mesmerized by the sight of her losing herself in the pleasure you're giving her. Her hands tangle in your hair again, guiding you, urging you on as you work your tongue along her slick entrance. The rhythm of her hips matches the movement of your mouth, and you can feel her growing wetter, absolutely drenching the bottom half of your face.

“Fuck, that’s so good,” she mutters, pretty face pinched in pleasure. You moan into her cunt, angling your head up to drag your tongue up her slit slowly until you reach her clit, sucking it into your mouth and swirling your tongue over it.

“Oh my God,” Tashi huffed. She opened her eyes and looked down between her legs, catching your glassy eyes with her own. The sight only made her grind her hips faster, “You’re so pretty,” She muttered. Your loud moan is muffled by her cunt, heart fluttering in your chest at her words. You can feel your hands start shaking with the intensity of the moment, way more intimate than it probably should be.

Her right hand lets go of your hair, shooting out to lace her fingers with yours. She squeezes your hand hard, gripping onto it like a lifeline as she rides your tongue. You respond in kind, using your free hand to guide her, to hold her steady as you delve deeper into her cunt, your nose bumping up against her clit. Her taste, her reactions, everything about her is perfect, and you can feel her body tightening, her muscles clenching as she gets closer and closer to the edge. 

Her other hand tightened its grip on your hair, pulling you closer as she threw her head back, a low, throaty moan escaping her lips. “Don’t stop,” she gasps, her voice breaking, “I’m close.”

You increase your pace, tongue working even faster over her clenching cunt. You lose yourself in her, in the rhythm of her movements, in the sounds of her moans and gasps. You need her to come, you need to see, need to feel it, need to hear it, need to fucking taste it.

And she does, her body tensing, then shaking as she cries out your name, the sound filling the room. You hold her through it, your tongue moving in gentle, soothing strokes as she rides out her orgasm, her body slowly relaxing under your touch. You keep going, tongue greedily soaking up everything she has to give you until she’s spent, her body going limp, her breath coming out in ragged, uneven gasps. 

Tashi leans back, blindly shoving her free hand down your shorts to delve between your slick thighs. Your hand grips hers harder, moaning out as her fingertips brush over your throbbing clit. Your eyes open to find Tashi already staring down at you between her thighs, the fancy hotel lights making a halo of light around her messy hair. She looks fucking ethereal.

You’re so worked up it only takes a few clumsy circles of Tashi’s fingers to push you over the edge. Back arching off the bed as you come, hips bucking up into her touch. Waves of pleasure crash through you as you soak your panties in your release as Tashi watches with sharp eyes. She keeps going, fingertips sliding over you with featherlight touches until you’re squirming away, thighs instinctively clenching shut.

Tashi falls back onto the bed next to you, the two of you laying beside each other trying to catch your breath. The room is filled with the soft sound of your synced heavy breathing, you can feel her hair tickling your neck from where it splayed out on the pillows.

“Patrick’s coming to the UT game tomorrow,” her voice breaks the silence, voice raspy and winded, “Art will probably be with him.”

Her impassive tone feels like a bucket of ice water dumped over your head. You look at her, but Tashi keeps her gaze trained on the ceiling, her chest rising and falling quickly. She’s sweaty, baby hairs sticking to her forehead, her face is stony. She closes her eyes, it feels like a door slamming in your face. Your heart sinks in your chest, dread starting to wrap its tendrils around you.

Patrick and Art. Their names hang in the air like a storm cloud threatening to burst, casting a shadow over the fragile intimacy of the moment. You swallow hard, trying to muster a response, but words elude you in the suffocating silence. Tashi speaks again before you can, “We should all go out to dinner after, like on a double date or something.”

You trace the outline of her profile with your eyes, the curve of her jawline, the faint sheen of sweat on her skin. Each detail seems sharper, more defined, as if etching itself into your memory with painful clarity all over again. You have to close your eyes too, scared if you keep them open that the tears burning your waterline will start flowing down your cheeks. All you can do is lie there, next to Tashi, and feel the weight of her words settle into the space between you, putting up a barrier you're not sure how to breach. 

“Yeah…sounds good.”

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[moonstruckme]

Hello! Hope you are well! Maybe could you please write about Spencer and reader constantly reapplying red lipstick to kiss his face omg it sounds so cute

Hope you're well too lovely <3

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 439 words

You lean in close to the mirror, fighting giggles as you reapply the bright red lipstick you’d bought at the drugstore. 

“They didn’t have lipstick in ancient Babylon,” Spencer points out. 

“I know.” You blot your lips together. “But how is anyone going to know we’re together?” 

Your boyfriend frowns. It’s a familiar expression, not one of upset but of confusion, the dissatisfaction of feeling like he’s missing something. “We are together.” 

You turn around, smiling at him. “We know that, but our costumes are just fabric. The lipstick prints make us look like a couple,” you explain. “I think you could use another one on your left cheek, what do you think?”

Whatever qualms Spencer has with your historical inaccuracies, he’s more than happy to receive your kiss. He tilts his left side toward you, and his cheek dimples under your lips. You hold them there for an extra second just to feel his face warm. 

“Perfect.” It’s impossible to keep from grinning at the sight of your serious FBI boyfriend with his face crammed with kiss marks. You’ve even scattered a few down his neck, stopping only where the toga is trapped across his chest. You pause to study your handiwork. “You know, we wouldn’t have had to do this if we’d just gone as Romeo and Juliette.” 

“Actually, Pyramus and Thisbe were one of the first Romeo and Juliet tragedies, so it’s not dissimilar.” 

“Yeah, whatever.” You roll your eyes, though your smile is irrepressible. It’s hard to resent that, when left to his own devices with the choice of your Halloween costumes, your boyfriend wanted you to dress up as what he described as one of the most romantic stories in Greek mythology. You could have thought of a million simpler ideas, but likely none as sweet. “I think you would’ve made a great Leonardo Dicaprio.” 

“Who?” 

“It’s from a movie, I’ll show you sometime,” you promise, reapplying your lipstick one more time. “My point is, I don’t think a lot of people are going to recognize us as Thisbe and Pyro…”

“Pyramus.” 

“Pyramus. The lipstick is to show that we’re in love.” 

Spencer looks at you in the mirror, a sweet sort of curiosity in his expression. “Aren’t we?”

You blink. “I don’t know, you’re the one who told me the story.” 

“Right, yeah, but I meant you and me.” Spencer seems almost shy. You know he knows the answer, but he likes when you remind him. 

You hum as you turn back around, settling your hands on his shoulders. “What do you think?” you ask him. 

Your lips on his are answer enough. 

[cozage]

Hi, Coza! I hope you are doing well! I miss your writings and am so excited to see your requests are open! :)

I saw a post by sunshinescribes that talked about how Law doesn’t believe in unconditional love and how he thinks relationships should be transactional. Hopefully I can properly link it here because they do a really good job at explaining it: https://www.tumblr.com/sunshinescribes/728643191573757952/i-think-the-most-tragic-part-of-laws-character-is

I was wondering if it was possible to have a scenario based off of this post of reader just appreciating and loving Law because they want to. Like maybe they’re just waking up and reader is using the rare moment of peace and quiet in bed to spill all of their love and sappy thoughts to him. He deserves all of the comfort, love, and care 😭

A/N: Thanks for this devastatingly lovely prompt! Here's the post for everyone if you want to go give it a read (and a like!) Characters: gn reader x Law Cw: none :)  Total word count: 850

There Are No Conditions

The way the light refracted through the cabin window in the morning and bounced off of Law’s ravenous hair was one of your favorite things in this world. It was one of the few times he didn’t have a scowl on his face. He rarely smiled in his sleep, but his face almost always looked so peaceful. His eyelids fluttered for a moment, and then his face turned soft again. He must have been having a good dream. 

You noticed he was starting to get a few gray hairs. He must have been under some kind of stress recently. Though he always seemed to be since you all had entered the New World. You knew he had a lot on his mind, and you wished there was something you could do to make his life easier. You wanted to bear that burden with him. 

“Do you need something?” Law’s voice came out hoarse, but his sudden alertness had startled you slightly. 

“Nothing at all,” you said sweetly. “Just admiring you in this light.”

He groaned and pulled you in closer to him. “We’re getting curtains at the next island.”

You gave an exasperated gasp, but snuggled in tightly to him knowing his threat was empty. “And you would deny me of such a simple pleasure for what? Extra sleep?”

His eyes cracked open at your words and he peered down at you. “You cannot enjoy watching me sleep.”

You gave a sheepish smile. “It’s one of my favorite things in this world, Trafalgar Law. In fact, you’re one of my favorite things in this whole world, so everything that you do is automatically good in my eyes.”

He rolled his eyes, clearly not believing you. “Flattery is a little thick today. You might want to tone it down, or I’ll catch on to the fact that you want something.”

You stuck your tongue out at his words. “All I wanted was to look at you while you sleep!”

“Freak.” He paired his words with a kiss to your forehead to show he didn’t actually mean them. 

The two of you were silent for a while. You thought he had fallen back asleep, so you occupied your time tracing over his tattoos. But after a few minutes, he spoke again.

“Okay, seriously-” He pulled back slightly to look at you. He tended to do that when he wanted to make sure you were being truthful. “What did you want to do today?”

You were never good at hiding your emotions. You knew they had all washed over your face in a matter of seconds, and Law could read them all with intense precision. Confusion. Knowing. Irritation. And then, understanding. 

“I don’t want anything from you, Law,” you explained. “I was just…enjoying the view? I don’t know how to say it correctly. I find myself staring sometimes because I find you interesting.”

Law’s brows scrunched together in confusion. “If you wanted a good view, the deck and the sea are far more interesting. Especially at this time of day.”

You gave a humorless laugh. “I love you more than I love the sea, idiot.”

He froze at those words, and you could see him struggling to make sense of them. “So you were staring at me…?”

“Because I love you,” you finished for him. 

That didn’t seem to help. “And you love me because…?”

“I don’t know!” You gave out a sharp laugh at the thought. “There are no reasons and so many reasons! But there are no conditions for my love, Law! I just love you because I love you. I can’t say exactly why I love you. I just do!”

You had really done it now. You were fairly certain you had never seen Law more confused or more flustered than he was in this moment. He gave a hard swallow and nodded his head, but you could tell further clarification was still needed.

“You don’t understand,” you said, watching his eyes turn to the ceiling. If they went there, that usually meant he was lost in thought. 

He shrugged. “I do, in a way. I feel that way about you, but I…well, I never expected someone to feel that way about me.”

The weight of his words made your heart sink. He deserved more than anyone to know how much he was treasured. You would die for him for no other reason than love. And while he could grasp the concept, he couldn’t understand why someone would feel that way towards him. 

“How about I tell you all the things I love about you?” you offered softly, trying to pull him away from his thoughts. It was too early to be thinking of such deep topics.

His eyes shifted over to you, and you could see he was half alarmed by your offer. But you could see the smallest spark of intrigue. 

So you began listing everything you could think off, absentmindedly still tracing over his tattoos. 

The sun was more than halfway across the sky before you finished. And there was a soft smile on his face during your all’s afternoon nap. 

[byechristopher]

fuck'em all, but us.

– CHRIS STURNIOLO ANGST.

Author's note: Hello, little angels. I have been gone for months, but I've been wanting to write something for a while now. Excuse me for the hiatus. However, I still can not promise that I'll be consistent from now on – but i love you still. Do not copy/steal my work. :)

Warnings: HELLA LONG. This is almost 3.000 words, sweet Jesus. As usual, if you know me, I like writing about dark, angsty shit. Nothing too bad, but you know, mention of fights, blood, smoking, etc.

I caught Chris staring at me again, that same cold, unreadable expression on his face. He had a cigarette between his fingers, as usual. His eyes were like ice, and whenever they landed on me, I felt a chill run down my spine. He never says anything — just watches, arms crossed, jaw clenched, as if I’ve done something to offend him without even knowing it. I don’t understand what I did to make him look at me that way, like he’s barely holding back some hidden resentment. And yet, every time I catch him watching, I can’t help but wonder what he’s really thinking.

I’ve seen him with a few other people. He’s not exactly warm with them either, but there’s something different when he talks to them, a sort of casual ease. With me, it’s like he’s built up walls — high, thick ones, and I’m just standing outside, banging on the gates. And every now and then, I think I catch a glimpse of something behind them, something vulnerable and unexpected, but it’s gone before I can be sure.

Chris was my older brother's closest friend, and he has been ever since they were little kids. No one ever got as close to him as my brother did. Whereas when it came to me, he was rather cold; I never understood why.

My thoughts were roughly interrupted by my brother's hand, which took a strand of my hair and pulled on it to annoy me.

"Ow, you fucking asshole!"

"Hey, wake the fuck up. I said me and Chris are leaving." I rolled my eyes and looked at Chris one more time, seeing that he still had that same look on his face.

Deciding to ignore it one more time, "yeah, bye. God." I said and grabbed the remote to switch on the TV.

I didn’t want to watch anything in particular; I’d just rather avoid looking at my brother’s best friend once again.

"Where the hell are you?"

A notification popped up and before I read the sender's name, I already knew it was Fred. My ex.

Of course, I ignored it, but deep down, I knew he was losing it. Ever since we broke up, he’s been acting stranger and stranger — showing up at places he knows I’ll be, sending messages that alternate between apologies and accusations. It’s like he can’t decide if he wants me back or wants to make me regret ever knowing him. I kept telling myself he’d get over it eventually, that he just needed time. But lately, his behavior had me on edge, and I began wondering if he’d ever really let go.

I’d never go back to him; that’s something I’m certain of. He crossed too many lines, left too many scars I can’t forget. But now, it’s like he’s everywhere—lurking just out of sight, always one step behind me. I feel his presence even when he’s not there, a constant, heavy reminder that he’s still watching, still obsessing.

I’ve started checking over my shoulder more often, catching myself dreading the sound of my phone vibrating with yet another message from him. I tell myself it’s just paranoia, that he’s all talk and no real threat. But some small part of me can’t shake the fear that this time, he might actually be out of control.

And I was right to be cautious. Because he finally crossed the line I’d been hoping he’d stay behind. When I got home, my stomach twisted as I saw it; my car, with its tires slashed and a deep scratch running along the side. It was unmistakably his work; I’d ignored his messages, blocked his number, and now he was trying to force my attention.

My hands shook as I took in the damage, a mix of anger and dread flooding through me. How could he stoop this low? He knew that car was everything to me, the one thing I’d saved for and bought on my own. The memories of late nights spent driving to clear my head, the freedom it gave me — he’d tainted all of it in a single, desperate act. I wanted to scream, to call him and let him know just how furious I was. But I knew that’s exactly what he wanted.

He wanted a reaction, wanted me to feel trapped and afraid, wanted to pull me back into his twisted little game. But I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Instead, I took a deep breath, locked my jaw, and stared at my car.

"What.. the fuck is that?" My brother's voice echoed in my ears and I turned around to see that he was with Chris.

"Fred. Fucking Fred." I screamed, not able to contain my anger.

"That bastard.. I will fucking kill him." He said and got closer to the car to see the damage, "calm down" was what Chris said to him.

Chris looked shocked and angry, he walked towards me, "this motherfucker lives nearby?"

"Yeah… just a few blocks away." I sat down on the ground, pulling my legs to my chest and hugging them tightly. I looked up at Chris, my voice trembling, "that was my fucking car..." a tear slipped down my cheek, and in that moment, I couldn’t tell if it was from anger or sadness.

Chris clenched his jaw, and I felt a rush of warmth as his hand reached down to cup my cheek. His touch was soft, gentle, and completely disarming. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had held me like that, with such tenderness. He looked down at me with a promising expression, his eyes filled with determination. “I’ll see what I can do about your car. I might have a friend who can fix it.”

His thumb brushed softly against my skin, and I felt a flutter in my stomach, a strange mix of comfort and something deeper. The way he touched me sent a shiver down my spine, pulling me out of my anger for just a moment. In such a chaotic moment, I couldn’t help but think it was nice seeing him like this for once. I stayed silent and leaned into his hand, seeking that warmth, desperate for a distraction from the whirlwind of emotions coursing through me.

I was rather quiet the following days – I didn't want to go out of the house much. Not because this asshole scared me with what he did, but because that car meant a lot to me. Me and my brother lived by ourselves, and that car was the only thing I could call my own. Fred would pay and I'd make sure of that.

I was alone in my room getting ready for work, trying to drown out the chaos of the previous days when I heard the front door slam shut. My heart raced with curiosity and unease. Just as I was about to head downstairs, my brother’s voice boomed through the house, cutting through the silence, “what the hell happened to you?”

I sprang to my feet, instinctively rushing toward the sound of the voices. As I reached the living room, I froze at the sight before me. Chris was leaning against the wall, blood dripping from a cut on his eyebrow and cheek, and staining his shirt. My brother stood in front of him, fists clenched, a mixture of concern and fury etched across his face.

“Chris, what the actual fuck!” my brother exclaimed, his voice a mix of anger and worry. Chris turned his gaze toward me, and in that moment, everything else faded. Despite the blood and bruises, there was a softness in his eyes that held me captive, a silent plea that made my heart race.

“I’m fine,” Chris replied, though his voice was strained. He shifted slightly, not even a single emotion of fear, or pain, nothing. If anything, he had a pleased expression on his face, I could almost make out a smile. My brother continued to glare at him, demanding answers, but Chris seemed unwilling to give them to him.

“What happened?” I asked, stepping closer, my heart pounding. Chris’s gaze flickered back to my brother, and for a brief moment, I felt a wave of unease wash over me. I could sense that whatever had happened involved more than just a simple altercation, and the tension in the air was thick with unspoken words.

"Nothing happened. I just shouldn't have gone to Mike's. There was another fight and I got involved." My brother seemed to know what he was talking about, because his whole body language changed, softened.

"I told you, asshole. You should never go to Mike's. This bar is a shithole." He went off to the kitchen, probably going to grab something to clean the blood.

I walked closer to Chris, my sweaty fingers digging into my leather bag. I reached out hesitantly, my fingers trembling as I brushed against his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin contrasted by the coolness of the blood that trickled down from the cut above his eyebrow.

“Chris,” I whispered, my voice barely above a breath, my heart racing. “Does it hurt a lot?” My fingertips lingered on his skin, tracing the line of the wound as if I could somehow erase the pain with my touch. His eyes locked onto mine, a storm of emotions swirling within them — vulnerability, frustration, and a glimmer of something deeper that sent shivers down my spine.

He winced slightly at my touch but didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned into my hand, a subtle gesture that felt almost intimate in the tense air between us.

“Not much.” he said, his voice low and rough, but it was the way he looked at me that stole my breath. There was a rawness in his gaze, as if he was baring a part of himself that he’d kept hidden, and in that moment, everything else faded away.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked, my thumb brushing lightly over his jawline, searching his eyes for reassurance. The moment felt suspended in time, a fragile bubble where nothing else mattered but the two of us. His expression softened, and I could see the flicker of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite the pain.

“I will be,” he replied, his gaze steady and unwavering, filled with a mixture of gratitude and something that felt like longing. It was as if, in that brief exchange, we shared an unspoken promise — a connection that transcended the chaos around us. My heart raced, and for the first time since the chaos began, I felt a sense of calm in the storm.

Having to go to work and leave him like this pained me, but I had to go, "I have to go to work.." I explained.

"Mhm. D'you want me to take you to work?" He said and I sighed.

"No. Of course not. Stay here, with my brother. I'll see you.. later." I nodded my head and said goodbye one last time before leaving.

The night air was cool against my skin as I walked home from work, each step feeling heavier than the last. The streetlights cast a faint glow on the pavement, illuminating the shadows that seemed to stretch endlessly in the darkness. My thoughts were consumed by what had happened — I couldn’t shake the image of him standing there, bloodied yet resilient, leaning into my touch.

My heart raced at the memory, but alongside it was a gnawing concern. What kind of trouble had he gotten himself into? It was like him to end up in trouble, but I'd never actually see him like this.

As I approached my apartment, a sudden impulse gripped me. I didn’t want to go home and drown in my thoughts; I wanted to see Chris again. I needed to know he was okay, to check on him in a way that felt more personal than just a casual conversation. With each step toward his place, a mix of anxiety and anticipation bubbled within me.

I turned the corner, the familiar path leading me to his apartment building. The windows were dimly lit, casting a warm glow that made me feel a little lighter despite the weight of everything else. I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I was overstepping or if he’d even want to see me after everything that had happened. But the thought of him alone, nursing his wounds and possibly replaying the day in his mind, pushed me forward.

I climbed the stairs, my heart pounding louder with each step. When I reached his door, I raised my hand and knocked softly, the sound echoing in the silence of the hallway. What if he wasn’t ready to see me? But as I waited, I couldn’t help but hope that he’d open the door, that he’d let me in — not just to his apartment, but to whatever was going on in his life.

"What.. are you doing here?" He furrowed his eyebrows, a little band-aid covering the wound on his eyebrow now, a cigarette between his lips.

"Sorry, Chris.. I couldn't.. stop thinking about you. I mean.. what happened to you.. today." I was nervous, I couldn't quite understand why.

He cleared his throat and stepped aside to let me in, and of course, I wasted no time. I sat down on his couch and he sat down beside me. So many years of knowing him, and I've never actually been inside his house, so I took a quick look around, trying to take in everything I could.

"I'm fine. I told you." He insisted and sipped from his beer that was on the coffee table, his cigarette nearly done now.

"Your cheek is swollen, you didn't even bother putting some ice on it. Geez." I huffed and got up to go to the kitchen, opening the freezer and wrapping some ice cubes in a towel.

I walked back to him and sat closer to him, cupping his cheek and gently pressing the ice on his other cheek. Only then did I realise how close we were, I could feel his breath fanning over my lips, his dark blue eyes staring into mine.

"My fiend. Zack. He will help you with the car." He whispered and I whispered back, "thank you.. so much."

The sight of him so vulnerable, the blood still seeping from the cut and the way he tried to mask the pain, made something deep within me stir. I forgot about everything else — the fight, the worry, the uncertainty of where we stood. All I could focus on was him and the way he looked at me, those fierce eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and something more that made my pulse quicken.

I could see the way he held back a flinch, how he tried to remain stoic despite the pain. I felt the heat rising in my cheeks, a flush of desire that surprised me. I wanted to kiss him, to close the distance between us and erase the hurt with something softer, something intimate.

As I leaned closer, his gaze flickered to mine, and in that moment, everything else faded away.

“Chris,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, as I hesitated just inches from his face. I could sense that he was just as caught up in the moment as I was, his eyes darkening with something that mirrored my own feelings.

Then, before I could overthink it, I closed the distance between us, pressing my lips against his. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if we were both afraid of what this moment meant. But as I felt him respond, his hand gently cupping my neck, deepening the kiss, I knew I had crossed a line that I never wanted to return from.

The kiss was hungry, needy. I needed to catch my breath. As we pulled away for a breath, my heart raced, and I felt a rush of conflicting emotions, “this is so wrong..” I whispered, my forehead resting against his.

“I know,” Chris replied, his voice thick with desire. He searched my eyes, a mix of guilt and longing swirling between us, "I cant stop now.”

“I shouldn’t be here,” I breathed, feeling the warmth of his body so close. Yet I leaned in again, capturing his lips with mine once more.

He pulled back slightly, looking conflicted, “what if your brother finds out?”

“I don’t.. care right now,” I admitted, my hands threading through his hair as I kissed him again, the heat of the moment overwhelming any reservations I had, “I just want to be here with you.”

“I shouldn’t want this,” he murmured against my lips, his breath mingling with mine, “but I do.”

“Me too,” I confessed, pulling him closer, lost in the moment, “I can’t stop.”

“Then don’t,” he whispered, his eyes darkening with intensity, “don't think about anything else.”

With that, we dove back into the kiss, the world outside fading as we lost ourselves in each other.

As I left Chris's apartment that night, a rush of exhilaration filled me, and I realised that the unexpected had happened; my ex hadn’t reached out at all since the incident with the car. And for the first time in weeks, I felt a weight lift from my shoulders.

A few days later, while I was passing by my brother's room, I heard him talking on the phone. Curiosity piqued, I paused outside the door, trying to listen in.

“I can’t believe you did that, man,” my brother said, his tone a mix of disbelief and admiration, “how did you even find his place?”

“This bitch peed his pants when he saw me.” Chris replied, his voice low but amused, “it wasn't that hard, just had to ask around.”

Something shifted inside of me, realizing that Chris had taken matters into his own hands.

“You know, you didn’t have to do that, I was planning on destroying his car instead", my brother said.

“But I wanted to,” Chris replied firmly, and I could hear him chuckle at what my brother said next.

I stepped back, my heart racing. So, it was Chris who had put an end to my ex’s harassment. I couldn’t help but smile, feeling a warmth spread through me. I knew then that my feelings for Chris were deeper than I had allowed myself to acknowledge, and knowing he had my back made me feel safer than ever.

I found myself running back to his apartment again, right then and there, running up the stairs of his building as if someone was chasing me. I knocked on the door, loud enough for him to open it quickly, worry written in his eyes.

"What–"

And this time I didn't let him finish. With tears in my eyes, I pressed my lips against his and lost myself in his arms.

⠀

⠀

⠀

[simpforboys]

always been you

ghostface!rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: being a famous news reporter, your coverage quickly began to focus directly on the Ghostface killings. little did you know the masked killer was closer to you than you thought.

warnings: dark/canon!rafe, dark!reader, sociopathic tendencies, rough smut, choking, dirty talk, creampie, sexual sadism (both parties consent), knife kink, mask kink, swearing, mentions of stalking, toxic (?) relationship, blood, murder, drug use, smoking cigs

not proof read, please don’t read if cannot handle the warnings. this is something not usually like my writing and i wanted to test it out, so let me know what you guys think !

happy october my loves :3

the blood that splattered against Rafe’s mask was euphoric to him, the stress and anger taken from his body.

the light that left his victim’s eyes as they slipped into their everlasting slumber sent shivers down his cold spine as he dropped the body on the tiled floor.

“you’ll never be around my girl ever again.”

Michael, a 22 year old frat boy who suddenly became obsessed with you during a party, was one that frightened you more than your boyfriend.

Michael was stalker-ish, following you to every class in hopes to get a glance of you between hours. he would show up to every single place you were, and after expressing to Rafe how eery he made you, Rafe just told you, “i’ll take care of it.”

you didn’t exactly know what he meant by that, not that you really cared.

it was a common occurrence. a person would piss you off or annoy you and Rafe would simply “take care of it”.

you believed something was suspicious when the people began to go missing and a reappearance of a masked killer was in the news every week, and deep in the pit of your stomach was excitement.

a mystery as to whom the killer was, a mystery as to what they wanted in the Outer Banks. it didn’t help that you were constantly surrounded the media, as you were the leading reporter around the town.

“Welcome back to channel 10 news, i’m Y/n L/n and today we’re at the crime scene of the masked killer who goes by the name of Ghostface…”

a chill went down Rafe’s spine as he sat on your shared bed, twirling the handle of the knife against his thigh as he watched the news intently.

you, his gorgeous girlfriend, reporting on the crime he committed last night while you slept softly.

were you as sinister, too? the gorgeous and twisted smile on your face as you reported the case made Rafe wonder.

he took the large kitchen knife and wiped the blood onto his jeans, the substance staining his clothes as he watched intently.

“and be careful, citizens of Outer Banks. Ghostface is still out there…”

your words rung in Rafe’s ears as the channel cut back to the people sitting in the station. Rafe grabbed his bag of cocaine that was left on the wood coffee table, putting the powder on his finger as he snorted it.

a few hours later, Rafe was sprawled out on your shared couch. one arm tucked behind his head, the other laying lazily on his side.

your keys rattled as you entered your shared home, letting out a yawn as you put your coat on the coatrack.

kicking off your heels, you approached Rafe, who was dead asleep. you threw your purse on the arm chair, kissing your boyfriend’s forehead.

he stirred in his sleep as you lit a cigarette, inhaling the smoke before blowing it out gently. you stood in the kitchen, wanting to feel your boyfriend hold you, but not wanting to wake him up.

walking into your shared bedroom, you opened the closet door. shuffling through the walk-in, your eyes scanned the clothes in search for a comfier outfit.

but when your eyes landed on a mask, a Ghostface mask, you could feel your heart stammer in your chest.

“y/n?”

Rafe’s voice scared you, making you jump slightly. the cigarette hung low on your nude-stained lips as you picked up the mask.

“what’s this, Rafe?”

Rafe eyed you, not knowing what to say. his pulse began to rise, his heart thumping nervously against his chest.

“i got it at the halloween store. guess they’re tryna have everyone be Ghostface.”

Rafe answered, leaning against the doorframe with his arm raised above his head. you cocked your eyebrow at him, but a naughty idea twisted into your mind.

you walked over to your boyfriend, putting the mask on over his head. you bit your lip, feeling your pussy tingle from the fantasy.

with Rafe’s flexing biceps as he leaned his head to the side, staring at you curiously, he watched as you subconsciously rubbed your legs together.

“is my naughty girl getting turned on?”

Rafe questioned you, his large hands trailing slowly down to your ass before squeezing it in his palms.

you nod, biting your bottom lip as Rafe suddenly walks you backwards onto your shared bed. a small noise escapes your desperate lips as you fall onto the plush bedding.

Rafe’s hand trails painfully slow down your face, dragging down to your neck, his cock swelling at the thought of how easy it would be to kill you.

your pretty neck so perfect for his hand, his knife, his pleasure.

as your eyes fluttered shut, all you could hear was Rafe’s staggered breathing behind the mask. within moments, a sharp, cold object was placed against your neck.

Rafe was beyond happy you couldn’t see his face, because the growing lust and feverish tendencies were driving him insane.

using his mask, his knife, his girl the way he pleased. and you never suspected a god damn thing, never suspected he was the ravenous murderer of the Outer Banks.

a gentle sigh escaped from your throat, realizing how Rafe was toying with your life for the sake of his pleasure.

the sharp edge of the knife gradually popped off each button of your blouse, your chest slowly rising and falling as your pupils were blown out wide.

you watched the murderous object trail down your clothes, so desperate to dig into your skin.

“Rafe-“ you panted out, the knife completely tearing your skirt apart.

but Rafe didn’t respond, too lost in the way your body was so reactive to him. so reactive to someone who could kill you easily.

your black panties were quickly shred with the skirt and Rafe felt himself pulling his pants down just enough for his throbbing cock to spring out.

he wasted no time in shoving his cock deeply into you, his knife angled directly where your vaginal walls swallowed his cock.

he gently pressed the knife harder into your skin, making you flinch from the stinging. your blood began to slowly trickle down your pelvis, and the sight made Rafe go feral.

his hips moved quickly against yours, his hand placed directly on your wound. moans escaped your mouth as you played with your breasts.

“does that hurt?”

Rafe asked you quietly, his eyes still fixated on your wound as his hips relentlessly pounded into you.

when you didn’t respond, Rafe took the knife and cut a little more onto your skin.

“fuck, Rafe! yes it hurts,” you choked out. tears built in your eyes, your pussy throbbing.

“good. i want it to fucking hurt.”

Rafe’s voice was rough and coarse, way too lost in his fantasy. his other hand rubbed your clit harshly, his eyes fixated on the way your bodies met.

Rafe snapped out of his gaze when your hand gripped his wrist tightly, his eyes going up to your face.

you took Rafe’s wrist and brought it up to your neck, his fingers closing on your throat.

“yeah? my dirty girl wants me to choke her while i fuck her dumb in my mask?”

your pussy clenched around his throbbing cock at his dirty talk. your eyes squeezed shut as you let out a breathy whine, the pain from your cut adding to your pleasure.

your legs began to shake as you came, your juices soaking his cock as he shot his cum into your womb.

“fucking take that cum.”

Rafe cooed, slapping your ass harshly, a red hand print tattooing onto your skin.

your chest was rising and falling as your boyfriend slid his cock out of you, your skin stinging as Rafe took the mask off.

his hair was matted onto his forehead, sweat dripping down onto his neck. in one swift motion, Rafe leaned down and licked the blood from your wound. he then walked to the bathroom, shoving his cock back into his pants.

you laid on the bed still, tired eyes as Rafe reentered the bedroom. he had a damp washcloth and bandage, his eyes trailing at your other scarred skin as he cleaned up your wound.

once he was finished with aftercare, he stroked your cheek gently. “my good girl.”

———————————————————————

the next morning came too quick. you woke tiredly, snoozing your alarm clock as you fought the strong urge to go back to sleep.

but when you didn’t feel Rafe’s arm around you, or his warmth, or his presence, you sat up in the dark room.

you turned on your bedside lamp, your phone reading four am. you rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you stood up, your legs sore, along with the new scar.

your feet padded quietly against the wooden floor as the light was on in the kitchen. your heart began to pound against your chest as the figure was standing next to the sink, the sound of the water pouring from the spout the only noise in the whole apartment.

“Rafe?”

you asked softly, the tall figure turning around. there stood a man in all black, a bloodied knife in his hands with blood splattered on his tanned skin.

in the Ghostface mask, in the kitchen, stood the killer. but when Rafe saw how you didn’t seem frightened, but yawned at the sight, he cocked his head to the side.

“if you’re going to be cleaning your murder weapons in the night can you at least make me a cup of coffee?”

your words seemed to hit him like a truck, as you approached the tall figure and took the mask off his head. Rafe’s jaw was gaped slightly open as he stared at you in shock.

“what…”

“of course i know you’re Ghostface, Rafe. i’m not a fucking idiot. you’re getting really sloppy with your kills lately. especially when i told you about that one guy stalking me and he randomly got murdered days later? i would’ve at least waited a month.”

you said nonchalantly, grabbing a mug as you poured water in your keurig. Rafe was in disbelief. he felt stupid for not expecting you to suspect him, let alone know.

“you- you don’t care?” Rafe asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared at you.

“why would i? you would’ve killed me by now if you really wanted to. plus i get something out of it, i get annoying people out of the way and get news to cover.”

the whole situation was shocking Rafe. he couldn’t believe you just didn’t care.

“i mean i’ve thought about killing people before but never acted on it. but when you first started murdering people, i didn’t know until the first few months. but with news coverage comes investigating, and i’ve known you were the famous masked killer for months.”

you didn’t say another word, just stirring your coffee as you left the kitchen and walked back into your bedroom.

“try to get some sleep, yeah?” you called out.

and Rafe stood still in the kitchen, his mind racing a million thoughts, but one that wouldn’t escape his mind.

you were crazy too.