#Phone Charge Tips | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

luvchaew · 8 days ago

Text

what are you wearing?

riding a sweaty sunghoon because he looked too good in tank tops and you almost took it personally.

“you really couldn't wait, could ya?” dom!sunghoon x horny!reader wc𓈒 1.1k — not proofread! ✴ fluff, unprotected sex (protect urself guys), riding, p in v, cursing, banter, praise & degradation kink, pet names (hoon, sweetheart, doll..), implied multiple rounds, mdi!

𝑚. 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍

you were lying down on the couch, phone in one hand as you scrolled absent-mindedly through many different social medias, a blanket draped lazily around your lap and a cooking show passing on tv that you tried to pay attention to but soon gave up. even if some videos caught your attention, nothing really entertained you. sunghoon promised you he'd be home by 8:30 from gym, and it was already 8:46, wait, 8:47.

when the door opened up with a loud thud and not-so-careful steps approached, you wondered whether you'd pretend to be sleeping, or if you'd look like you were fully invested in the contestants baking pumpkin pies. he was in the living room sooner than you'd calculated, and he caught you mid changing position, fixing your hair unstoppably.

“oh, so you're finally ho-” you muttered pretending not to be embarrassed, but stopped mid sentence as he walked in: big ass grin, confident steps, bangs sticking to his head with sweat from the workout and a cap that covered half of his face. that alone would've finished you up in any situation, but yeah, there was more. black compression tank top, defining his abs and clinging to his chest like a second skin.

“what the fuck are you wearing?” was the only thing you asked after checking him out for a few seconds, careful not to let your jaw drop or something. he looked confused, clearly not expecting anything but an angry version of you. his eyes followed yours, trying to catch up on what you were referring to.

“why? is it bad?”

“not at all, that's the problem. i was supposed to be mad at you.”

“yeah, sorry for being late. i know i promised you i would be on time” he tried, but your mind wasn't there anymore. you weren't annoyed anymore. you were just with an unmistakable heat pooling on your stomach and your gaze followed his ab lines like a predator. the fact that he was late didn't matter whatsoever. not now.

“this is not what you should be worried about now, hoon”

“oh god. what have i done?”

“you wouldn't know. just come and fix it.”

sunghoon snapped. one second he was staring blankly at you, trying to follow your mind, and the other one he was dropping his bag, moving hurriedly to be all over you. his eyes darkened instantly, and you felt your stomach twist when you stood up from the couch and his sweaty, firm hands found your waist, pulling you closer. inch by inch pressed against his skin. air between you seeming almost shared.

“is this your definition of ‘fixing it’, sweetheart?”

you hummed, agreeing. “it did involve something like this”

he smirked, gaze dropping to your mouth. you were sure he'd try to postpone it, to edge you, but he started it, and now he'd have to cope. you leaned in, lifting your chin and tiptoeing to kiss him. and it was the type of kiss that had your mind spiraling, the ones that even the tip of your toes curled with the soft encounter of your lips followed by the mind-blowing passage of his tongue inside your mouth.

sure, he was a bit surprised by your sudden courage, he could give you this one, but it was nothing that would lead him to lose control. sunghoon always had a way to silently remember you that he was in charge, and right now? it was the way his grip on you tightened as he dropped to the couch, forcing you to sit on top of him, legs holding on to his waist for dear life.

you breathlessly gasped, startled, your fingers instantly hooking on the collar of his black tank top to keep you steady, grounded to his heat.

the touch of your tongues started off as soft, like a coordinated dance both of you were dancing, but it soon built up to something rougher, warmer, with desire dripping from your mouths.

but when he tilted his head slightly and bit your bottom — and already swollen — lip?

you completely lost it.

and worse, fully moaned into his mouth, the sound coming out of your throat strained, hoarse.

“oh doll, look at you, already turned on?” he darkly chuckled, breaking the kiss and lipping his own bottom lip now, as if trying to collect every single trail of yourself you could've let on him.

sunghoon didn't wait for your answer, and before you knew it, he leaned in to leave open mouthed kisses on your neck and collarbone, sliding your beige shirt to the side to give him more access to your skin.

he nibbled on your sensitive skin, leaving red marks behind like he was worshipping something sacred. his hands touched you almost everywhere, mostly grabbing your waist to keep you in place. you readily tilted your head, allowing him to do everything and panting softly as the cherry on top.

despite your whines, he was patient, taking his time to suck on your neck and sliding to your shoulder with caution. when the fabric started to get on his way, his long fingers found the hem of your shirt as he gently took it off.

his gaze dropped on you as if he was food deprived, flying pecks returning to flood your skin and leave your head dazed. when you whimpered again, he finally gave in, quickly unbuttoning your bra with the ability of who'd done this thousands of times, cupping your tits carefully like they were precious.

“you look so fucking gorgeous it's killing me. my god—” your nipples hardened and he smirked, visibly satisfied. when his tongue finally found them, you squirmed on top of him, the sudden acknowledgement of his bulge forming under you now both overwhelming and pleasuring.

“hoon, don't tease—”

“don't be so eager, sweetheart. even though you look beautiful begging, this is just the start and you're already acting all slutty” he bit one of your nipples harder only to watch you tremble, the degrading tone laced in his hoarse tone.

your fingers found his scalp, holding on to it firmly and gripping it when he sucked on a certain spot that made you go dumb. your whines turned into moans, sinful sounds leaving your throat beautifully, the noise finding his ears like music.

your hips rolled, trying to find friction between your bodies. because you were not in the mood of holding back, and when his bulge teased you so good? there was no point in pretending.

“holy shit— keep going like that.” he momentarily stopped his mouth, and you swore the face he made was unreal. eyebrows furrowed, eyes fluttering closed, biting bottom lip, trying to keep himself still.

you kept going, sometimes bouncing on his lap. soon, your arousal couted his black leggings and a wet spot could be seen. you shut your eyes, the fabric keeping you from coming undone but at the same time leaving you overwhelmed, the pleasure building up.

“you really couldn't wait, could ya? so fucking desperate.” his grip on your waist tightened, signalling you to stop, to stay still. despite your own desires, you did exactly as you were said, and sunghoon quickly took off your shorts and pantie and layered his shorts and boxer just below his knees, not really caring about it. when you took a glance of his face, he was flustered, that one concentrated face you were crazy about getting even redder when his tip teased your hole and you fully bounced on it, sitting up on him.

his hardened dick had already filled spots that made you see stars when you started to move your hips under his control, the action now feeling way more intimate and way better.

“always so tight around me— shit, keep bouncing.” and oh you did. you alternated between bouncing, grinding and riding, your hips moving senselessly as your breathing came out short, uneven. the moans that left your mouth filled the living room and the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin became louder when he bottomed out, thrusting on you from below.

your thighs burned, but the desire was bigger, the pleasure was better. soon, you felt your legs sore, muscles almost screaming — but not as loud as you did, of course — sunghoon noticed immediately, and he became rougher, grip tight to tell you that you only had to stay still.

his thrusts were deliberate, hitting your g-spot every single time, aligning perfectly with the way your hips rolled. he groaned — guttural, loud, rough. — signaling that he was close, or that you were close, you didn't really know. however, when your nails began to scratch him and your hips faltered, he understood perfectly what it meant without saying a single word. because there was no need to, obviously.

he leaned in to suck against your neck one more time, his kisses now slower, savoring your skin like a whole meal. his thrusts lost a bit of its pace, and when he came, he announced it with a lewd, raw sound, gripping the curve of your hips like it was something he wanted to destroy. to ruin completely

because he fills you up all at once, burying himself inside you in one smooth, deep thrust, stretching you open, pressing so much you swear you feel him in your stomach. “filling you up so good. feel full don't you?”

“shit, hoon— s’ full” you cried, your cum mixing with him as you released. you buried your head on the crook of his neck and he got the cue to fuck you through all of it, leaving you empty and filling you up simultaneously. the scent of him filling up your nostrils as your mind blanked deliciously.

you bit his skin as if felt too much, and both of you didn't move for a second, your breathing irregular, the smell of sex filling the room.

when he did say something, it felt more like a confession from how low it was, despite the dirty words that would leave his mind. “you don't think we're over, right? you asked for it. take it.”

“fuck, hoon, ngh— shouldn't you be tired from gym?”

“not at all. i workout in order to keep up with you, horny girl”

and you knew that would be a very, very long night.

#enhypen #sunghoon #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon #enha x reader #this picture of sunghoon got me feral #i need sunghoon #enhypen smut #enha #sunghoon au #laura on tumblr

2K notes · View notes

justwinginglife · 3 months ago

Text

The LADS Men Catch You Masturbating To A Photo Of Them

Yall can read the title but this is mature content. Big thanks to @tbaluver my lovely beta reader who helped me not rip my hair out as I was writing and editing and editing and editing again.

Xavier

Xavier was frustrated again.

He knew it was his own damn fault for sending you a photo of him with his shirt slightly unbuttoned but it was two damn buttons. He didn’t think you’d be so hot and bothered by a single photo of him that you’d hide yourself away in your room and jack off to it. If he’d known you’d neglect him like this, opting to pleasure yourself to a photo of him instead, he never would’ve sent it in the first place. Sure, you hadn’t known he was awake, and sure you hadn’t known he’d been dying to see you, but you could’ve sent him a message saying you were horny. You could’ve asked for help.

Now he was sulking outside of your bedroom door, listening to you whimper and whine, and it was driving him crazy. Finally, he’d had enough, and without warning, he charged into the room.

You yelped and reflexively yanked the blanket over yourself. “Xavier! Wh-what are you doing here? I th-thought you were at home asleep.”

“So you figured you’d quietly get off to him and let me continue sleeping, is that it? Do you think I can’t satisfy your needs like he can?” His eyes darkened as he made his way towards you.

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Xavier. What do you mean ‘he’? It’s literally you. I’m getting off to you.”

He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above you, allowing your phone to fall to the side. “No, if you were getting off to me, it would be my cock getting soaked and not your fingers. Wanna try that again?”

You swallowed. “Please… please Xavier. Help me. Please, I wanna come on your cock.”

“That’s much better.” He growled.

He wasted no time at all in yanking down his pants and positioning himself over you. He dragged the tip of his swollen cock along your slicked entrance, allowing your arousal to drizzle down his impressive length. He slapped it against your clit a couple times in a teasing manner, but then finally just jammed himself inside you. Maybe if you’d approached him from the very beginning, asked for his help nicely, he would’ve been gentle with you. Would’ve taken his time to coax you open, would’ve eased his way into your warmth.

But you hadn’t even considered him as an option and it drove him mad. So he slammed his hips forward and drilled himself deep inside you, thrusting against your tightening walls with a punishing tenacity. When you whined, he silenced you with a devastating kiss, tongue invading you with overwhelming force. You’d remember him next time you were in the mood- that he would make sure of.

He spent the remainder of the night bullying his way through your pussy until you were cum drunk and sky high, shuddering through multiple orgasms, and slurring the words he made you repeat after him, “I promise I will only come on Xavier’s cock… I promise I will only come on Xavier’s cock… I promise…”

************************************************************************

Sylus

It was almost like Sylus sent you the photo on purpose.

He was half naked on top of a motorcycle, grease dripping down his toned abs, and smirking like a sinner; what girl wouldn’t come to that?

So when you suddenly found yourself tugging off your soaked panties, and settling into a comfortable position on your bed before beginning to tease circles onto your clit, you felt it was only the most reasonable of ways to respond to his photo. If he didn’t want you to touch yourself, he should’ve been there in person to let you touch him.

Little did you know, he’d come home early, and had begun to watch you from the doorway, eyes alight with both amusement and arousal. He’d intended for the photo to get a reaction out of you, but he hadn’t intended for the reaction to be quite so… primal. He continued to watch intently as you slid your slicked up fingers in and out of you, lust-filled eyes laser-focused on his photo. You imagined his abs were wet because you’d come all over them and it nearly sent your orgasm crashing into you. You bit your lip to stall its arrival, prolong your pleasure for a moment more.

Sylus watched as you sunk your teeth into your plush lips and god did he want to sink his teeth right into them next. But he stayed still, he stayed silent. Waited for the opportune moment to show his hand.

It wasn’t until you moaned, “Fuck- Sylus, I need you,” that he made his entrance, sliding onto the bed beside you. Before you’d even had time to properly be shocked, he was spreading your legs open wider.

“I think you can do better than that, sweetie.” His fingers guided your fingers deeper inside you, slamming up against your sweet spot.

You gasped and dropped your phone in surprise.

He watched as it fell to the floor with a smirk. “Looks like you’ll have to rely on me now.”

He spent the next few, agonizing minutes summoning your release with every deliberate stroke of his fingers, only to let it sink back inside you, before bringing it to your forefront again and repeating the cycle over and over. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you throbbed around him, desperate for one, single orgasm.

“Sylus!” You exclaimed in anguish, “Please. Let me come.”

“How badly do you want to come, kitten?” He grinned as he flexed his fingers, flicking them against your eager core once more.

“Badly.” You groaned.

“Ah, so not that bad then,” He smirked.

You attempted to glare at him but he cut you off with a sharp flick of his fingers. You cried out in pleasure and pain. “PLEASE- Sylus, I wanna come so badly. I NEED to come.”

He nuzzled against your ear, nibbling on your earlobe before purring, “So come for me then. Don’t hold back a single sound.”

A spark of heat flashed through you when you heard his words. Your eyelids fluttered shut as you clenched around both of your fingers, dancing on the edge of ecstasy. Then, your orgasm finally found you. You cried out his name as the warmth spread through your veins.

When your eyes eventually blinked open again, you were met with the sight of him licking his fingers clean. His wild eyes held your gaze and he smirked.

“That’s my good girl.”

************************************************************************

Rafayel

“You could’ve just told me you missed me, cutie.” Rafayel smirked as he stood with his arms crossed in the doorway.

Just an hour ago, Rafayel had sent you a photo of him shirtless on the beach and now you’d been caught red handed, masturbating to it. Embarrassing. If pressed, you’d argue that it was simply impossible not to touch yourself when faced with such a photo. You’d noticed he’d taken a dip in the ocean just before taking the shot because a tantalizing trail of water was trickling down his abs, and it was enough to get you dripping as well. Honestly, it was a wonder you hadn’t come already with how furiously you’d fingered yourself after receiving his photo. Anyway, he’d come home from his beach trip earlier than you thought and that led to your current predicament.

You bit down on your lip, blushing slightly. “I, uh… I missed you. Help me?”

“Don’t have to ask me twice.”

In an instant, he was spreading your legs apart. You’d assumed he’d take over fingering you and were, instead, pleasantly surprised when his head dipped down to lick a stripe up your glistening folds.

“Raf!” You gasped.

“Sorry… my lips are chapped from all that salt water and I’m just so… thirsty. I was hoping you could give me something to drink, cutie.” He grinned up at you before delving back inside you with his tongue. He wasn’t kidding about being thirsty. You felt him collect every drop of arousal from your quaking walls with each hungry flick of his tongue. You thought he might just drown himself inside you if he continued.

You attempted to pull away slightly, just to allow him air to breathe, to allow him a moment of respite from your suffocating warmth, but he pinned your legs in place before you could get too far.

“You think the God of the Sea is in need of air?” His voice dropped to a low growl. He looked up at you with dark eyes, as though offended at your underestimation of him.

“I think Rafayel is in need of air.”

His eyes softened slightly at your concern. Then his lips curled into a smirk. “Lemurians can survive the darkest depths of the ocean; I’m pretty sure I can survive the depths of my love.” He swirled his tongue around your sensitive bud teasingly. “But the real question is- can you survive me?”

He didn’t need your answer. He already had it the moment he buried his tongue back inside you and you responded with choked whimpers. He reveled in the sounds he drew from your mouth with every drag of his tongue here and there but what he relished even more was the moment you were convulsing against his tongue and coming down his throat. As you shuddered through your release, he thought to himself that he could honestly get drunk on the taste of you. One orgasm wasn’t enough. He’d have you emptying all evidence of your arousal into his mouth until he couldn’t taste anything else, until he’d forgotten the taste of anything else.

************************************************************************

Caleb

You had just sent him the most innocent looking photo of you. You were walking in the park, wearing a white sundress, the sunlight had caught your eyes just right, and your hair was blowing in the wind. You couldn’t have looked more perfect.

But you weren’t wearing a bra.

His first instinct was to look away, ashamed. But then he realized you weren’t here to scold him. So he took another peek. His pants quickly tightened around him as his eyes followed the curves of your breast through your nearly-see-through dress. And when his eyes settled on the peaks of your nipples poking through the sheer fabric, he bit down on his lip to keep the precum from trickling down his pants. He stained them anyway. He couldn’t help himself; he was hard as fuck.

You were still strolling through the park; he was sure he had time to relieve himself. So he made his way to the bathroom.

One hand gripped his phone tightly; he didn’t dare to drop it. The other stroked his aching length aggressively. He imagined the way your perky tits would bounce as he drilled himself deeper into you, imagined the way he’d stain your dress with his cum. He was so lost in his thoughts that even after he’d come down the toilet, he didn’t notice that you’d come home and made yourself comfortable in the bedroom. It wasn’t until he opened the bathroom door that he heard just how comfortable you were.

“Caleb!”

At first, he thought you needed him. He quickly rushed to find the source of your voice, worried you were hurt. Then he realized you were in the bedroom with the door slightly ajar, and his footsteps slowed.

There it was again. “Caleb!” You moaned.

His recently emptied erection flickered back to life. He thought you were calling his name because you needed him. He didn’t realize you were calling his name because you… needed him. Well, that was an easy fix.

He slipped through the doorway, ready to be at your service. What he was not ready for was just how debilitating the sight of you touching yourself to him would be. You had a shirtless photo of him propped up in one hand, fingers curled inside you with the other, thrumming at your insides with an ever increasing rhythm. Moments ago, he’d been more than prepared to assist, but now all he could do was stand and stare, mouth slightly agape.

“Caleb!” You exclaimed again. But this time, your voice was tinged with embarrassment instead of pleasure. His eyes found yours and he realized you’d caught him staring.

“Sorry, sorry! Just comin’ in to see if you needed some help.”

Your cheeks burned bright. If you’d had more pride, maybe you would’ve kicked him out. Closed the door in his face, made him promise to forget he ever saw you like this. But you’d been desperately chasing the high that was always just a fingertip out of reach, and you’d begun to get frustrated. “My…” You cleared your throat awkwardly, “My fingers aren’t long enough.”

He took a couple cautious steps towards you. “I…I can help with that.”

You swallowed as he settled onto the bed beside you. Caleb was always helping you. Helping you reach the nice glasses on the top shelf, helping you jumpstart your car when the battery died, helping you set up the wi-fi in your new apartment. You just never imagined he’d be helping you with… this.

You held your breath as he spit on his fingers, and released the breath in a low moan when he slid them inside you. In no time at all, he’d already found the sweet spot you’d been straining to reach.

“Fuuuuck.” You hissed, eyes rolling back as he caressed your wet heat.

He tried to focus on pleasuring you, on lavishing his attention on every spot that made you gasp and groan. But as you grew tighter around his fingers, clenching as the ecstasy built up in your core, he felt his pants grow tighter around him again. He bit down on his lip and tried to ignore his own selfish desires.

“You know…I can help with that.” You murmured, voice seeped in lust, as you laid eyes on the bulge in his pants. Your fingers danced around his belt, waiting for his permission.

He nodded a little too quickly and soon, he was fucking himself into your hand. It almost became competition, the way you’d stroke him faster and he’d finger you deeper.

He wasn’t sure who came first in the end, but he was sure he’d stained your dress. He’d have to buy you a new one. Maybe he’d stain that one too.

************************************************************************

Zayne

Zayne cleared his throat from the doorway.

Shit.

“You know…” He stepped closer to your bed, where you’d shrunken under the covers, away from his prying eyes. “When I said physical activity was good for you, I didn’t mean…masturbation.”

You swallowed. “I’m just… blowing off some steam?” You offered weakly.

If he had any witty remarks to make about your current situation, they quickly stuttered to a stop when he realized that you’d been holding a picture of him in your hand (and to his surprise, it was a picture of him fully clothed, in…surgical gear??) while you touched yourself. Crimson seeped into his cheeks and his ears soon followed. He started to talk but when no words came out, he cleared his throat again, sweat rolling down his Adam's apple.

“Would you…like some help with your… activities?”

Your eyes widened. Here he was, avoiding all eye contact with you like it was the plague, and he was offering to help?

He swallowed when you tugged the blanket off of you and spread your legs in response. “I… I’ll take that as a yes?”

“Yes…I… I want you to touch me, Zayne.”

His lips found yours in an instant. At first, his kisses were soft, tender. Then they grew increasingly more passionate as his fingers found their target. He moaned against your lips, heat enveloping him as you clenched around him. He didn’t dare pull away from your lips, partly because he was happy just to be kissing you, and partly because if he pulled away long enough to watch himself fuck you wide open with his fingers, he might just come all over his pants and his dignity.

Somehow, touching you was just as arousing for him as being touched himself. Somehow, every time you squeezed or squirmed, he felt your pleasure as if it was his own. Somehow, every torturous trail that his fingers teased into your walls was a torment to him too. Somehow, he needed your release as badly as you did. He needed you to come all over his fingers. He needed you to cry out his name. He needed you to arch your head back and let him devour the length of your neck as you rode out your orgasm. And he needed it like he needed air.

It was this ravenous tenacity that brought not one but two orgasms flooding through your core in a matter of minutes. Zayne completely missed the first one, still focused on wanting to take care of you, and you were too breathless to tell him you’d already come so he continued vigorously pumping away until you were overwhelmed by your second release of the night. It wasn’t until he began thumbing at your clit that you finally choked out a protest, tears in your eyes.

“Z-Zayne! F-Fuck… I’ve… I’ve already come t-twice… don’t you think you should give me a minute to…to breathe?” You begged in between panted breaths.

His eyes widened. “Twice?”

You let out an exhausted laugh. “So Doctor Zayne can find the g-spot just fine, but he can’t tell when it’s overloaded? A+ for anatomy, Doc, but maybe like a C for observational skills.”

He blinked at you. “You’re giving me a C? I’ve never gotten a C in my entire life.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” You shook your head, laughing again. “Well, as your professor, I’m afraid I can’t award you anything higher than a C.”

“Surely there’s something I could do to make you… reconsider?” Suddenly Zayne’s slow, agonizing circles resumed on your clit.

You bit back another moan. Oh god, he was at it again.

************************************************************************

Taglist: @pixelcafe-network @ouiouimochi @minasfwoopyponytail @inkytypewriter

4K notes · View notes

yanderedrabbles · 2 months ago

Text

Yandere Neighbour - Noncon

With your electricity out and your devices dead, you have no choice but to turn to your neighbour for help. He's more than willing to welcome you into his home. Really, you're lucky he's such a nice guy.

Tags: male yandere x gender neutral reader, noncon, somno, just the tip anal, daddy kink but only if you squint, 3.3k words

Living in the middle of nowhere had its perks. Privacy. Untouched nature. Peace and quiet.

But after the third day with no electricity, those perks were starting to look pretty damn weak. Your fridge was sitting in an ever expanding puddle. Almost all your devices were dead. And if you had to take one more cold shower you were going to cry.

It was when you were digging through your drawer looking for desperately needed batteries that you found your neighbour's number. He'd offered it to you a little while after you moved in, and while you two were on friendly terms, you'd never actually spoken for longer than a few minutes. You sighed, looked at the 10% left on your phone and decided that desperate times called for desperate measures.

You: hey, it's me. I still haven't got any power. Do you mind if I come over to charge some stuff?

He replied almost instantly.

Unknown: aww that sucks

Unknown: come on over. I've got hot stew and a generator

Unknown: and you can take a hot shower too if you want

Score. And to think you found him intimidating at first. Just goes to show that you can't judge on appearances. You packed a change of clothes, your devices and the last tub of ice cream that wasn't totally melted. You'd find some way to properly pay him back but a tub of chocolate fudge double cream wasn't a bad way to start.

He was waiting on his porch when you pulled up. A bear of a man in a flannel and blue jeans, a five o' clock shadow darkening his jaw.

"Howdy neighbour," he drawled, opening your door for you while you grabbed your stuff. "Regretting leaving the city yet?"

You huffed a laugh. "You do NOT want to know the answer to that."

His cabin was much larger than yours, a two storey behemoth with wide windows and exposed beams. It had a rustic charm - like some natural park Air BnB where they charged a weeks pay for just one night. A little too big for just one man. Didn't he get lonely?

"I brought some ice cream and chocolate to say thank you. And also because it miiight have been melting."

He opened the door for you and ushered you through with a hand on your lower back.

"Hell, I'll never say no to something sweet."

There was a fire burning in the fireplace and a stack of logs in a crate next to it. He was so much better suited to this life than you were. He locked the door behind you and slipped the keys into his pocket.

"Old habit," he explained with an easy grin.

"Why don't you get settled? I'll plug your stuff in."

You handed over your tech with a relieved sigh.

"Thank you. Really. I'm so behind on work already and I haven't heard anything back from the power company."

"I wouldn't hold my breath," he said. "Once ended up going a week straight with not even a light bulb flickering."

You winced. "It gets that bad?"

"Yep. Especially in winter. Gets dangerous then too."

He tilted his head at you, concerned. "You need to get yourself better sorted before it starts snowing. I hate to think of you stuck out there when the blizzards start rolling in."

God, could you be any more of a city slicker? You rubbed your neck, embarrassed.

"Thanks. I've been here a few months now and I guess I just didn't realise how serious things can get."

"It's all good. But if I'm honest, I get worried thinking about you out there all alone. Plenty of drifters end up passing through. Not a good place to be alone, not for a little thing like yourself."

Little? You wanted to feel indignant, but looking at his bulk, you reckoned that most folk probably seemed little to him.

He lead you to the fireplace and poured you a mug of coffee from the pot that was waiting for you. He jerked his head at the hunting rifle on display above the mantle.

"I can teach you to shoot, if you've got some free time."

You took a sip of the coffee, internally debating with yourself. You could see the sense in your offer but you weren't a big fan of guns. Hell, just being around them was nerve wrecking enough. Maybe -

You looked down at your mug in surprise.

"This is some really good stuff."

The coffee was strong, bitter in the best sort of way. You could catch a hint of chocolate in it too. Just sweet enough to make your toes curl.

" 'Course. Only the best for my guest. Help yourself to another cup. I'll just put your stuff on charge and be right back."

You finished your drink in a few sips and happily poured a second serving. Hot coffee... man, you didn't think three days without it would be so tough. Usually, you were pretty sensitive to caffeine. But by the time your neighbour came back, your head was tilted back and you were half asleep.

You tried to shake yourself out of it but he just laughed and pushed you back down.

"You probably haven't had a good sleep since the power went out. Just rest. We can talk once you wake up."

"I'm sorry..."

"It's fine." His hand was still on your shoulder, thumb rubbing small circles into your neck. "It's just fine with me."

You drifted off after that. Into a deep sleep without any dreams. Waking up was like slogging through molasses.

"Finally up sleepy head?"

It was dark outside and your neighbour was on one knee in front of the fire place, coaxing fresh wood to catch.

You sat up slowly. Your muscles ached and there was a strange, salty taste on your tongue.

"My heads killing me..."

He stood, poker still in his hand. "You must be starving then. I've already got some food on the stove. You'll feel better after you eat."

You didn't feel hungry at all. If anything, you felt almost hangover.

"Thanks," you managed. "I'm sorry to be such a bother."

He waved you away. "I don't mind a bit."

He came back with a bowl of steaming hot chow and stood with his arms crossed on the back of your couch while you ate.

"It's real late. I reckon you should stay over. I don't want you driving on dirt when it's so dark."

"Oh, it's fine. I've already put you out so much."

"Don't be silly. I insist."

You shivered without meaning to. That almost growl, low and bordering on menacing. It was so familiar, so...

"Just like that. Look at you, half asleep and still desperate for my cock."

"You like the taste? Yeah, I bet you fucking do."

"Ain't just gonna use your mouth next time."

You squeezed your eyes shut. Where the hell was this coming from? Were you remembering some sick dream from this afternoon?

"You okay there neighbour?"

You nodded. "Just my head."

Maybe he was right. Driving when you were so disorientated was just asking for trouble.

"If you really don't mind... I'll be happy to sleep over."

He laughed, a deep, rumbling thing. "I'll make the guest room up special, just for you."

"Could I use your shower too?"

"I offered didn't I? Come on, I'll show you where it is."

He took you to the master bedroom and jerked his thumb at the en-suite.

"Hot water is the most reliable in there. Door doesn't close that well though, so don't mind it. I'll be downstairs when you're done."

You brushed your teeth carefully. You lips felt sore, bruised in a way you couldn't explain.

You waited until you heard his footsteps going down the stairs before you stripped off your clothes. You stood under the hot water for a good few minutes, luxuriating in the feeling. The bathroom was thick with steam when you finally got to scrubbing yourself. The door was open just a crack and the bedroom beyond was dark. You forgot all about it until you heard the creak of the hinges.

You whirled to face the door, your hands coming up to cover yourself. The steam was too thick to see through. You called his name.

Nothing.

You stepped out with suds still on your thighs and pushed the door open. The room beyond was empty.

You sighed. God, you were being paranoid. Your neighbour was a great guy. It was unfair of you to treat him like a peeping tom when he'd gone out of his way to make you comfortable. It must have been just an errant draught.

You stepped back into the shower and rinsed yourself off. But no matter what you told yourself, you still kept an eye on the door.

When you went to change into your fresh clothes, you spent at least five minutes hunting for your underwear. Did you drop it somewhere? Oh, please say your undies weren't just sitting in the middle of his hallway. That would be beyond embarrassing.

Eventually you gave up and just decided to go without them. Not comfortable at all but still better than walking around in a towel to look for them. And much better than calling your neighbour in to help. Wouldn't that be fun? 'Hey neighbour that I don't know that well, you haven't seen my intimates lying around, have you?' Yeah, you'd never again get invited over after something like that.

When you were dressed, you found him already on his way up the hall. He was carrying a glass of water and some pills.

"Thought you might still have a headache, so I brought you some painkillers."

You paused, nervous but not sure why.

"Thanks." His hands dwarfed yours when he handed them over. You didn't recognise the name of on the pills, but they looked harmless. You tossed them back and gagged at the bitter aftertaste.

"They pack a punch, so tell me when you start to get drowsy."

"Aye aye captain."

You followed him to the guest room. It was at the very back on the second story, quieter than the rest of the house. A huge glass wall gave you a view of the forest disappearing into the darkness. You could see the ghost of your reflection in the glass, your neighbour a hulking, shapeless mass at your shoulder.

He took a seat in an armchair across form the bed and stretched out his legs. You perched on the edge of the mattress, still feeling a bit like an intruder.

"How long have you been staying out here?” you asked.

He smiled at you, teeth glinting almost wolf-like. "Got you curious?"

"A little. Folk in town say they hardly see you. I don't know... I'm just wondering if you ever get lonely."

He was quiet and you cursed yourself for being so nosy. You hurried to fill the silence.

"It's just that I get a bit lonely out here too. 'Specially when it's so quiet. And I guess I was wondering if it's the same for you."

He smiled at you, rueful. "At times. Used to be worse, but I've got a new interest to keep me occupied nowadays."

"Oh yeah? What?"

"Bird watching."

"Really? What do you look for?"

The way the room was lit up, you couldn't see his eyes. They fell into shadow and you only had his lips to read his emotions by. He smirked, slow and almost mocking.

"Just one bird I look out for. Flighty little thing. Tends to get caught by predators a lot. You’d probably recognise it."

The polite thing to do would be to ask what it was called. You didn't. Some part of whispered that you wouldn't like the answer.

You must have been quiet a little too long because he took it as his cue to leave. He stood, a mountain of muscle, his eyes not quite as nice as they seemed that afternoon. A trick of the light, surely. He wouldn't hurt a fly.

"You rest up. Got a busy day tomorrow."

"G'night."

He was gone before you thought to ask what he meant. And you were passed out on your pillows before you realised it. He was right. The pills sure did pack one hell of a punch.

You were aware of a shadow at the end of your bed. You weren't fully awake, and your limbs were slow and heavy with more than just sleep.

"Who..."

The shadow reached down and one warm paw circled your ankle.

"Just me little bird."

You knew that voice. It was the voice that brought you warm food and invited you in from the cold. You could trust it. Could go back to sleep and not worry about anything.

'No,' some part of you hissed, 'He's not as safe as you think.'

"Cold..."

The shadow laughed and it was the laugh of the fox finding the rabbit's den. Nasty. Hungry.

"Cold huh? Don't worry baby. I'll warm you right up."

He yanked your ankle towards him and your whole body slid down the bed. You were too drowsy to stop it.

"Knew you were gonna be mine the second I saw you," he cooed, hands running up your thighs.

His fingers slipped under your waistband, nails scraping your hip bones.

"Dumb little thing from the city. Doesn't even realise I've tripped all their breakers. That's why you don't have power baby. It's all me."

His fingers were as big as the rest of him. Thick, meaty. Skin rough from working outdoors. You whined when his fingertips scraped the edges of your hole.

"No underwear. You needy slut. That's practically a written and signed invitation to fuck you."

He pulled your pants down to your ankles and pushed your knees up to your stomach. And you were too out of it to stop him. Limp and pliable as a fuck doll.

Your tight ass was exposed to the cold air, entirely at the mercy of whatever he wanted to do.

"Cute." He circled his thumb around the rim, almost pushing in but not quite. "Wanted to be in this ass since you first showed up at my door all those months ago. Lookin' up at me all sweet. Fuck, it's enough to drive a man to desperation."

He lowered his head and you could feel his warm breath washing over your thighs.

He dragged his tongue across your hole. Some part of you must have been more awake than the rest, because your whole body jerked away from him.

"None of that," he cooed, hands digging into your thighs and dragging you back. "I haven't even gotten started yet."

He licked you again, deeper this time. The flexed tip of his tongue pushing at your entrance, and to your dull horror, actually slipping in. He moaned and you could feel the vibrations all through your crotch.

He pulled out and spat, rubbed it in with his fingers. One of them pushed in until the second joint, curling into your walls so rough that you gasped.

"Please..."

"Please what?" he mocked. "Please fuck my tight little ass? Please cum inside me? Use your words little bird."

"Please...stop..."

That made him laugh again, made him shove his finger in all the way to the knuckle. Twisting so cruelly as he pulled out and jerked back in.

"Stop? Stop? After all the work it took to get you here? No way baby. I'm not slowing down and I'm sure as fuck not stopping."

You heard the sound of his belt unbuckling, followed by a sharp intake of breath when he nudged his leaking head against your hole.

"You’re not going to remember this. And I'm not going to leave any evidence."

He pushed your legs tighter against your chest.

"So as much as I want to fuck you rotten, you're gonna have to be happy with just the tip."

He'd done a good job loosening and lubing you, but it still burned like a hot poker when he forced his way in. He groaned, almost in pain.

"You're fucking choking me. God, do you want my cum so bad?"

You could feel when the tip was in. That tiny difference in thickness between his head and shaft was oh so noticeable when your ass was clenching and fluttering around it. It was the smallest mercy, but mercy nonetheless.

He was panting from the effort of getting it in, the effort of holding back. The size difference between you almost perverse. Like a draft stallion trying to mount a pony. In every way, he was just too fucking big.

He spat in his hand and brought it to his cock, ran his palm up and down his shaft with sickly wet strokes. The combination of his palm and your squeezing ass was fucking delicious.

He had great stamina but fuck if it didn't feel like you were milking him.

He let go long enough to smack your ass. It almost finished him. You clenched around him so hard it felt like his tip was getting fucking crushed.

"Shiiiit, you're the best hole I've ever had. Can't wait 'til I can go all the way."

You whined, pitiful as snared prey. There were words there, though they were too slurred to make out. Something about Daddy and please and stop. He ignored you.

He pushed in a little deeper and watched your face scrunching up. So helpless, so fucking caught. That was what did it. The knowledge that he could do this to you at any point and you'd be helpless to stop it.

He came inside you, snarling through clenched teeth, his fingers digging into your thigh hard enough to bruise. You'd notice the marks in the morning and chalk it up to just being clumsy. But he'd know. He'd see the bruises peeking out from the hem of your shorts and his cock would twitch just a little at the memory of leaving them.

His cock pulsed. Shot strings of spunk deep inside you. You could feel it. Hot, too hot. Gross. Make it stop. Get it out.

He pulled out with a wet pop. His cum drooled down and he took a minute to work it back into you with his finger. Your hole was gaping just a little and it made his balls pulse. If he had the time...

"A real fucking mess. And on my good sheets too. You're a terrible guest."

He mopped up whatever cum remained with a balled up piece of martial that he pulled from his pocket. Even in you stupor, you recognised it as your missing underwear.

"Terrible guest, but the perks of having you around are pretty fucking sweet."

He dropped your knees back to the mattress, pulled your pants back into place and roughly yanked the duvet over you. He grabbed your jaw and smiled at the lost, drowsy look in your half open eyes.

"Got a big day tomorrow. Gonna wake up and find your whole house was flooded. Ruined. Gonna have nowhere to stay but with me."

He sounded smug. It made your guts twist.

Outside, the night grew quiet. A predator was hunting and most prey knew better than to catch its attention.

"I made sure of it. All your family and friends in the city are away from home. There's no one around to help you out..."

He tightened his grip just enough to watch the fear start dancing in your eyes.

"No one...except me."

He let you go and smiled that same warm, comforting smile from that afternoon.

"Dumb little thing. Got no clue how your water mains work, do you? Got no idea how easy they are to sabotage."

He tutted. "Got me so damn busy. I'm gonna have to run to your place, fuck shit up and be back here before you wake up for real."

He traced his index finger over your lips and left behind a sticky coating of spunk. You'd wake up tasting salt again, with no memory of why.

"But it's fine. I forgive you. After today we'll have plenty of time together. Rest of our lives in fact. So just sleep tight and forget what you think you've dreamed."

There are perks to living in the middle nowhere. Privacy. Untouched nature. Peace and quiet.

There are perks, but unfortunately for you, your neighbour isn't one of them.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #reader insert #x reader #yandere oc #yandere lemons #yandere oc x you #tw noncon #Yandere neighbour

2K notes · View notes

rafeyscumangel · 3 months ago

Text

thinking about Rafe and somno (x/twitter p link !! don’t open in public)

cw; consensual somnophilia, dubcon, s1 Rafe, hints at ‘good girl’ reader, not exactly like the video but that’s ok 😅, soft!Rafe, wasn’t intended but he’s highkey soft in this 😅, unprotected p n v(always use protection!!) but Rafe pulls out.

a/n: wasn’t intending on making this so lovely dovey and soft but it is and tbh i’m not complaining 😭 i got this vid from @rafesbowbunny awhile ago, ty for blessing my eyes with this p link 💞

Rafe snuck in through your window, having previously been waiting for about ten minutes in his truck for you. His messages going through and on read but no reply from you. Why didn’t he walk through the door like a normal person? Well because your parents were curled up on the couch next to each other watching whatever old, rich, obnoxiously fake, stuck up rich people watched. Probably similar to the bullshit shows his parents watched.

He grunted as his feet landed on the floor and he finally hopped himself into your room. making a mental note to find an easier way up to your window. Just as he was about to speak and ask you why the fuck you weren’t responding to him he saw you on your bed, still in your clothes from earlier that day, phone in hand and sleeping away. He smirked slightly as he took in your sleeping figure, looking all pretty. He strolled over to your bed and took your charging phone out of your hand on onto the bedside table, about to shake you awake before he recalled something.

That something being a post-sex conversation he had with you about a month ago. How you went on about how hot it would be if you woke up to him using you and that your body was ‘free to use’ even if you were sleeping. Perhaps it turned you on too much- even expressing being comfortable with the usage of roofie pills(Which Rafe respectfully stated that he’ll never do nor is comfortable with). But he’d be lying if he said the thought of waking you up with his cock when you least expect it didn’t get him worked up. But lying he did, hence why he’s waited so long to surprise you, wanting you to think he wasn’t into it.

Rafe bit his lip as his eyes trailed down your figure. He knew fucking you awake would be risky to do with your parents down stairs- but that just made the situation even hotter, and it’s Rafe- why would he care?

So within just a couple seconds his clothes were discarded and he was climbing onto your bed. His movements careful as to not wake you. He rested on his knees as his hands roamed up and down your curves, stopping to squeeze the flesh of your hip. He sucked in a shaky and lustful deep breath as he hooked his finger under the waistband of your shirts and pulled them down along with your panties. Shifting your legs slightly to string the fabric off of your body and then throwing them off somewhere on the ground. Rafe bit his lip as he eyed your glistening, pretty folds, running a finger through them while his other hand gently placed itself back onto your ass and squeezed.

He shifted position again once your shorts and panties were off. Resting on his side. He reached over your body to lift your legs up further into your body in an almost sitting like position. Rafe let out a quiet groan as fisted his cock in his hand, looking down at your bare and vulnerable pussy.

Lifting his hand up to his mouth, Rafe spit into it and brought his hand back down to his cock and wrapped his hand around the base to spread the spit as a type of lube, his cock twitching at the pleasureful sensation. Rafe took his time as he shifted in his spot to easily run his cock up and down through your pussy folds, tapping the head of his cock against your clit. A smirk made its way onto Rafes face as he felt your body twitch at the sensation.

He teased himself as he circled the tip of his cock around your hole before sinking himself in, quickly biting his lip to stifle a loud moan from escaping his mouth as the warmth and tightness of your pussy enveloped his cock. Rafes mouth fell open in a quiet moan once he fully sheaved himself into your tight cunt. He had to wait a bit both for you and him: Him to get a grip on reality, already feeling like he’s in heaven and for your sleeping body to get used to it.

Once Rafe finally starts moving he has to bite his lip to prevents moans from spilling out of his lips. He couldn’t help himself from glancing up towards the door, heightening the pleasure and even a hint of fear at the thought of your parents waking up to see their perfect, innocent and precious daughter getting used in their sleep. His thrusts stayed more on the gentle and slow side but steady pace, planting his larger hand on the flesh of your ass and squeezing lightly.

He couldn’t help but admire your sleeping position, hair messy and thrown around your pillows. Breathing steady and gentle. Dreaming about god knows what.

Rafes breathing got more breathy and quick as he felt you shift slightly and pussy clench around his cock. But it wasn’t enough, he needed to be deeper and in your plushy walls. So he shifted his position once again, hovering his body over yours as he kept himself up by his fists, planted on either side of you. His body was practically caging yours as he breathed in your scent. The new position letting Rafe fuck you both easier and deeper. Your walls felt so good around him and the slower pace felt like a tease due to the lack of your moans, noises n reactions to help him get off, so he couldn’t help but speed up his pace.

And that’s when you woke up, pussy clenching around him as you felt yourself regain consciousness from your nap, dazed and confused before you immediately felt something fucking itself into you and someone else’s body heat along your side. In your confused state you didn’t think properly and simply felt panicked when you looked and saw someone else’s body over you.

Rafe was too lost in the pleasure to pay attention to you waking up, missing the way your heartbeat sped up along with your breathing. He then froze slightly as he felt your hair shift against his face, lifting his head up to see the panic quickly settling onto your features. He stopped his thrusts and quickly darted his hand up to your mouth, preventing any noises before they even came.

“Hey- hey, just me babe.” He whispered, though his tone was slightly panicked itself, his own heartbeat speeding up.

Your eyes darted up to his as you heard his words, immediately feeling a wave of both relief and arousal come over you. Rafe grinned as he felt your breathing and heartbeat slow down and your eyes become wide with lust instead of fear, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. His hand moved from your face down to your waist and squeezed lightly, grin still plastered on his face as he lowered his head down to your neck, breathing in your scent before speaking teasingly through kisses. “Good nap?”

You let out a yawn, followed by a moan as his thrusts picked up again and he started placing soft kisses to your neck. “Yeah… even better was when i woke up.” You teased back, grinning slightly as your hands made way to his hair.

Rafe chuckled as he brought his head back up from your neck, typical cocky grin spread on his face. “Imagine how your parents would feel if they walked into me fucking their perfect daughter? And finding out she asked for it previously.” He continued to tease, leaning back up to put enough space between his and your bodies to allow him to push your body down onto your back instead of your side, moving your leg over as well before he enveloped your body into his again. Rafe’s elbows resting on either side of your body.

Leaning down, Rafe captured your lips into a kiss before you could come out with some smart comeback. His hips rocking back into yours as his hands explored your curves. The usually agonizingly slow position feeling very pleasurable in this moment.

You two simply enjoyed each other’s company. Rafe moving his head back down into your neck to mark what’s his and hide the sounds of his own grunts and heavy breathing. You wrapped your legs around his hips as you let out soft but pleasure filled moans. Every sound you make sounding like absolute heaven.

“So pretty..” Rafe murmured into your neck as he glanced up at you, cheeks flushed as he bit his lip before speaking again. “Especially for just waking up.”

Your face flushed even more at his words as you giggled, biting your lip slightly as you looked down at him. “And you’re handsome.” You complimented cheekily, playing with strands of his hair. Rafe let out a shaky breath mixed with a moan at your words. Biting your neck as his pace slowly became less steady and more quick, signalling that he was about to cum.

Rafes hand found way down to your clit as he started rubbing quick circles on the bundle of nerves. Your own moans raising in frequency and pitch as you felt the sudden, overwhelming sensation on your clit, unmatching to his thrusts. It was such a perfect combination that made you feel like you were about to cum and go up to heaven in seconds.

You grabbed a fistful of Rafes hair as you felt that knot in your stomach slowly come closer and closer to snapping, letting Rafe know in a high pitched, attempting to be quiet breath. “Oh fuck.. ‘mma cum imma cum-“ You chanted, legs wrapping tighter around his hips as you squealed at Rafes fingers increasing their rushed pace on your clit.

“Yeah? me too baby, c’mon.” He said breathlessly, cock twitching inside you at your words. Placing one last sloppy, open mouthed kiss to your neck before letting out a loud moan, quickly pulling out as his cum decorated your stomach and pyjama shirt in long, white, sticky strings of cum. Your own arousal escaping you in clear liquid, absolutely soaking both your sheets and Rafes lower half.

The two of yours loud breaths were the only sound that filled the room as you both came down from your highs. Needless to say; that felt fucking amazing. Perhaps it was all the mix of taboo things; fucking upstairs while your parents watched tv and Rafe fucking you while you were asleep.

Rafe let out a breathy chuckle as he placed a kiss against your cheek and pulled away. Looking down at the absolute mess you made. He grinned as he glanced down at you; “Squirted from this?” He asked, teasing you as if that wasn’t one of the most pleasurable orgasms he’s had.

You grinned back up at him as squeezed your legs together playfully to cover yourself. Nodding at his words, completely tired, blissed and fucked out. “Yeah, was so hot to wake up to that.” You said with an un-matching innocent sounding giggle. Stretching your arms over your head as you yawned.

“Yeah? that a sign i should sneak in and fuck you while you’re sleeping with your parents downstairs more often?” Rafe teased, Shifting to throw one leg off the bed and reach for a random article of clothing to dry the two of yous up.

“Yes.” You replied simply but tiredly, watching as he grabbed the piece of clothing, yawning yet again as sleep again threatened to take over your body.

Rafe couldn’t help but smile genuinely as he looked back at you and saw your sleepy expression. Leaning up and forward to give you a goodnight. “‘mk, now go back to sleep, i’ll clean this shit up.”

⟡ ݁₊ . written by sarahsangelicdoll, 2025 on tumblr! © do not repost on any third party website or repost as yours

⟡ ݁₊ . tagging muts: @moonlightrafe @bloodibambiidoll @winnie1emon @cameronsprincess @hvnlygrl

2K notes · View notes

tobiosbbyghorl · 8 days ago

Text

Hoodie Thief | psh 🔞

pairing: roommate!sunghoon x reader

epilogue

You weren’t sure when it became a habit—stealing Park Sunghoon’s hoodies. Maybe it was the night you came home late from a party, heels in one hand and a headache blooming behind your eyes, and he tossed you his oversized black one without even looking up from his laptop. Or maybe it was because they always smelled faintly of cinnamon and clean laundry, like comfort itself.

Whatever the reason, you were wearing one again. This time it was gray, soft, and swallowed you whole. Sunghoon was seated on the living room floor, laptop open, knees drawn up, glasses slipping slightly down his nose as he squinted at some code on the screen.

“You know,” he said, voice casual but laced with amusement, “at this point, I’m not even sure which hoodies are mine anymore.”

You sank onto the couch beside him, tugging the sleeve over your hand. “Well, technically, they’re community property now. Roommate rules.”

“That so?” he asked, glancing up at you over the rim of his glasses. His eyes lingered on your frame, his gaze unhurried as it dropped to the hoodie you wore. “Looks better on you anyway.”

You tried not to grin, but your cheeks betrayed you. “Flattery, Park?”

“Observation,” he replied smoothly, returning to his screen.

The teasing between you two had always been like this slow, drawn-out, never quite tipping over the edge. He’d brush past you in the kitchen, hand resting on your lower back just a second too long. You’d find excuses to fix his crooked tie when he got ready for class presentations, fingers grazing his collarbone just because. The tension was a thread stretched taut but never snapped.

You leaned in slightly, your knee pressing lightly against his. “You know what would really seal the roommate bond?”

He raised a brow, not looking up. “What’s that?”

“You letting me keep this one,” you said, tugging at the hoodie like it was a prize.

Sunghoon’s lips curved into a smirk, subtle and dangerous. He closed his laptop slowly, setting it aside.

“That depends,” he said, voice low, “on what I get in return.”

Your breath caught, but your smile didn’t falter. “Oh? You charging a fee now?”

He shifted just a little closer, the space between your knees gone. “Just thinking… maybe you owe me dinner. Or..” his eyes flicked down to your lips, then back up “a study session. You, me, one of my hoodies, and absolutely no distractions.”

You huffed a laugh. “Sounds like a trap.”

“Maybe.” He leaned in a fraction. “But I think you’d look good in all of them. Might as well make it official.”

Your fingers played with the drawstring of the hoodie, heartbeat ticking just a little faster.

“We’re still talking about clothes, right?”

He gave you a look. “Sure.”

But neither of you moved. The line was still there drawn faintly in the space between your breaths, in the ghost of his smile. And maybe it would stay there a while longer.

Maybe not.

You had one rule living with Sunghoon: do not thirst after your roommate.

It was a rule you followed diligently. Mostly. Despite the flirty banter and hoodie theft, you’d never crossed that line—because he never gave you the chance to. He was always in those oversized hoodies and loose sweats, glasses low on his nose, hair constantly ruffled like he just rolled out of bed (which, annoyingly, made him even hotter). His appeal was subtle—nerdy, quiet, maddeningly soft.

So nothing could’ve prepared you for what you walked in on that Wednesday afternoon.

You pushed open the apartment door mid-call, rambling into your phone, “I swear if he left his ramen bowls in the sink again, I’m gonna—”

And then you stopped.

Dead in your tracks.

Sunghoon was in the living room. Not in a hoodie. Not in any sort of baggy fabric, actually. Instead, he was standing in front of the open window, sipping water from a bottle, wearing a black tank top that hugged his toned chest and grey sweatpants that did dangerous things to your attention span.

He looked over when he heard you, and the way his biceps flexed slightly as he twisted the cap back on the bottle had you gripping your phone like a lifeline.

“Oh. Hey,” he said casually, like he wasn’t currently breaking the internet. “You’re home early.”

You blinked. Your phone beeped. You’d accidentally hung up.

“I—yeah.” You were proud you even managed words. “I… am.”

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow as he walked over, towel slung around his neck. He was glistening slightly—post-workout, apparently—and his hair was a little damp.

“I was just finishing a quick workout. Didn’t think you’d be back for another hour,” he said, stepping past you to grab something from the kitchen. “You okay?”

“Yep,” you squeaked, eyes very much not okay as they followed the flex of his back muscles beneath the thin tank top.

He looked like a completely different person. Still nerdy. Still Sunghoon. Just… cursed with forearms now.

You finally tore your gaze away and flopped onto the couch like your soul had left your body. “I’m fine. Totally normal. Regular day. You just—uh—changed your outfit game without warning.”

He smirked as he opened the fridge. “What, the hoodie empire falling apart for you?”

“I just wasn’t expecting…” You gestured vaguely in his direction, cheeks heating. “That.”

Sunghoon leaned against the counter and quirked a brow. “You mean the tank top? Didn’t know it would have such an effect.”

You glared. “It doesn’t.”

He crossed the room slowly, stopping right in front of you. “Your face is red.”

“I’m warm.”

He bent down slightly, his face hovering closer to yours. “You want me to go change back into a hoodie?”

You swallowed. Your hands were very much not behaving, already fisting the hem of his tank like they had a mind of their own. You weren’t even sure when you’d stood up. His scent—clean sweat, citrus, and something entirely him—was clouding your judgment.

“Don’t,” you said quietly, fingers still clutching his shirt.

He looked down at where you were touching him, then back up at you, his voice lower. “You sure?”

That line—the one you two danced around for months—was right there. So close. So fragile.

You looked up at him, heart racing. “No. But I’m tired of pretending I don’t want to cross it.”

His eyes flickered to your lips, then your hand. And when he leaned in just slightly, the heat between you burned bright and slow, like something inevitable finally unraveling.

Since the tank top incident, something changed.

No, scratch that—Sunghoon changed.

The very next day, he emerged from his room wearing another fitted black tee. Not a hoodie. Not even a crewneck. It clung to his chest just enough to make you pause mid-bite of your cereal, spoon hovering in the air like gravity forgot to exist.

You thought it might be a one-time thing, but the days kept coming—and so did the outfits. Sunghoon in slim joggers, Sunghoon in soft, clingy tees that rolled up just slightly at the arms, Sunghoon walking around the kitchen post-shower with a towel slung around his shoulders and that same tank top clinging to his skin like it had no shame.

He was weaponizing himself. There was no other explanation.

And worse? He knew.

“Laundry day?” you asked innocently one morning, nodding toward the fitted navy tee he wore as he poured coffee into two mugs.

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, setting a mug in front of you. “Nope. Just thought I’d mix it up. You don’t mind, do you?”

You took the mug and muttered, “Not even a little bit.”

He chuckled, brushing past you to grab something from the fridge, his hand grazing your waist in that way he did sometimes—just long enough to leave sparks behind.

It kept happening. His touches were still subtle—always plausible, never overt—but now they lingered. His hand on your back as you reached for a mug. Fingers brushing yours when you both reached for the remote. His knee pressed against yours on the couch and never moving away.

And you? You were slowly unraveling.

That Sunday night, it nearly broke you.

You came out of your room, sleepy and disoriented, in search of water. The apartment was dim, quiet, save for the soft hum of music from the living room.

And there he was.

Sunghoon, sitting on the floor in front of the couch, wearing a white tank top and black sweatpants, hair slightly damp, fingers tapping lazily on his laptop.

You paused in the doorway like some unprepared victim in a slow-burn romcom.

He looked up and saw you. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Mmhm,” you managed, forcing your legs to move. You grabbed a glass of water, hoping the cold would slap some sense back into you.

“C’mere,” he said suddenly.

You blinked. “Why?”

He patted the floor beside him. “Just sit. You look like you’re one hoodie away from losing it.”

You hesitated, then walked over and lowered yourself beside him. Close enough that your thighs touched. Of course.

“You’re doing it on purpose,” you muttered.

He didn’t look away from his screen. “Doing what?”

“This.” You gestured at him with a wave of your hand. “The… arms. The fitted shirts. The lack of hoodies. I’m barely hanging on here, and you’re out here being a thirst trap with glasses.”

Sunghoon let out a soft laugh—quiet, amused. He finally looked at you, and his eyes were dangerous in the low light.

“You’re the one who kept stealing my hoodies,” he murmured, voice low and full of teasing. “I figured I’d give you something else to lose your mind over.”

You stared at him. “So you admit it.”

“Oh, I knew exactly what I was doing.”

Your heart was in your throat now, pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. “And now?”

He tilted his head slightly, gaze flicking to your lips. “Still doing it.”

You should’ve kissed him. Should’ve dragged him down onto the floor and ruined the tension once and for all. But instead, you just exhaled, shaky, and leaned your head against his shoulder.

He didn’t move. Just let you rest there, warm and solid.

And the line between you both?

Still unbroken. But trembling.

You decided it was time for revenge.

If Park Sunghoon was going to spend his days parading around in tank tops and fitted clothes like he didn’t know what he was doing to your sanity, then fine. Two could play this game.

So that’s how you found yourself in the living room on Saturday morning, casually stretching on the yoga mat in the center of the room—wearing nothing but one of his hoodies (slightly cropped from how you’d tucked it up) and tight Calvin Klein bike shorts that hugged you like a second skin.

You didn’t acknowledge his presence at first. Just stretched with exaggerated slowness, arms over your head as the hoodie rose—high enough to show off the sliver of your waist and the underside of your chest with every movement.

You knew he was watching. He was always up by now, usually making his precious pour-over coffee in the kitchen. And sure enough, you heard it—the shift of the kettle, the sudden clatter of a spoon, and then silence.

You smirked to yourself as you leaned forward in a deep stretch, back arching just slightly, your position giving him a full view of your curves.

“Didn’t know you were up,” you said sweetly, still not turning around.

“I—I wasn’t,” came his voice from behind you. Rough. Caught off guard. Like he’d swallowed air wrong. “I mean—I just woke up.”

You slowly straightened, finally glancing over your shoulder.

“Oh?” you blinked innocently, lips curling. “Hope I didn’t distract you.”

Sunghoon was standing by the counter, coffee mug forgotten in his hand, his gaze locked on you like you were an equation he couldn’t solve.

His hoodie on you was driving him insane—you could see it in the way his jaw ticked, in the way his eyes trailed down to your exposed waist and back up with a slow drag.

“New shorts?” he asked, voice notably lower.

You stretched your arms above your head again, feigning a yawn. “Mmhm. Comfortable, right?”

“They look…” He cleared his throat. “Tight.”

You smiled. “Flattering, you mean?”

He stepped closer, slowly, like his body was moving without permission.

“You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?” he murmured.

You turned fully to face him now, still sitting on your knees, hoodie slipping off one shoulder. “I’m just stretching, Sunghoon.”

He stared at you, and something flickered in his eyes—like he was this close to crossing that line you’d both danced around for months.

Then he leaned down, just slightly, meeting your gaze head-on.

“If I lose my mind,” he whispered, “just know it’s your fault.”

You tilted your head, heart thundering in your chest. “Who says you haven’t already?”

The tension was electric, heavy in the space between your lips.

But then, like always, it hovered. Close enough to taste—but not enough to break.

Not yet

Sunghoon exhaled, straightened, and turned back to his coffee like nothing happened.

And you?

You grinned, wicked and satisfied.

Game on.

It was late. Past midnight. The kind of quiet that only happened when the city slept and the apartment dimmed into that safe cocoon of shadows and soft hums.

You hadn’t meant to test fate tonight. You were just thirsty, literally. Woke up parched and wandered into the kitchen half-asleep, wearing one of Sunghoon’s zip-up hoodies. No shorts. No bra. Just that oversized hoodie zipped halfway, loose and dangerously low from tossing and turning in bed.

You were barefoot. Hair messy. Eyes squinting at the fridge light as you grabbed a bottle of water and twisted the cap off.

You didn’t notice him at first.

But he noticed you.

Sunghoon stood frozen by the hallway, bathed in low light, eyes glued to you like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. And maybe he couldn’t. Because the zipper of his hoodie had slipped just a little lower—low enough to reveal the swell of your bare chest, the delicate dip of your waist, your skin glowing under the fridge’s light like you were meant to be seen in that moment.

You turned, bottle at your lips, and jumped when you saw him.

“Shit—you scared me,” you laughed softly, not thinking, not realizing what you looked like yet.

But Sunghoon didn’t laugh.

He just stared.

His voice came low. Tense.

“You’re not wearing anything under that, are you?”

You blinked. Finally glanced down.

Oh.

Your heart skipped. “I—I wasn’t thinking. I just came out for water, I didn’t think anyone was—”

He stepped closer.

Each step slow. Controlled. Like he was trying to hold something back and losing the battle by the second.

“You’ve been teasing me for months,” he said, voice rough, his eyes never leaving yours. “Wearing my hoodies. Stealing my space. Touching me like you know I want more.”

You swallowed hard, your fingers tightening on the bottle. “Sunghoon—”

“You come out here,” he went on, “dressed like that… at midnight… looking like that—and you still expect me to stay quiet?”

You stepped back instinctively, but you hit the counter.

He kept walking.

Now he was right in front of you, towering, chest rising and falling fast. One hand braced against the counter beside your waist, the other hovering just an inch from the zipper hanging so precariously low on your chest.

“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?”

“I think I do now,” you whispered, breath shallow.

His fingers finally touched the zipper. Tugged it just enough for your breath to hitch. Not fully unzipping—just a threat. Just a taste of the danger you’d both tiptoed around for too long.

“Tell me to stop,” he said, voice barely more than a growl.

But you didn’t.

You tilted your chin, met his gaze, and whispered, “Don’t you dare.”

That was it.

The line you drew? Gone.

He crashed into you like the tension had been a match waiting for a spark—hands gripping your waist, mouth capturing yours in a kiss that was months in the making. Hot. Desperate. Hungry.

And you kissed him back like you’d been holding your breath for this exact moment.

The hoodie slipped.

The water bottle hit the floor.

And Sunghoon?

Sunghoon finally stopped pretending.

Your back hit the kitchen counter with a soft thud, the cool surface contrasting the fire suddenly burning under your skin.

Sunghoon’s hands were on your waist, sliding under the hoodie like he’d been dying to touch you. His mouth was still on yours, tongue teasing, devouring every gasp and moan that spilled from your lips like he needed them to breathe.

And then—he pulled back just a little.

His eyes dropped to the hoodie, to the way it barely clung to your shoulders, your chest rising and falling rapidly beneath it. His fingers caught the zipper again, this time pulling it all the way down.

The fabric parted.

His breath hitched.

“No bra,” he muttered, almost to himself, voice husky and ragged.

You watched the way his eyes darkened—like something snapped completely inside him.

He dipped his head instantly, lips ghosting down your throat. “You’re so unfair,” he groaned, mouth brushing your collarbone. “You know I have a thing for boobs.”

You gasped out a breathy laugh, hand tangling in his hair. “I didn’t, actually.”

“Well,” he murmured, kissing down the swell of your chest, “you do now.”

And then his mouth was there—hot and open and obsessed, worshipping every inch he could reach. His hands cupped you, thumbs brushing gently, then firmly, then teasing—his lips trailing lazy, wet kisses across your skin like he’d been starved and this was his first meal.

You moaned, soft and high, hips shifting against the counter as he sucked lightly at a sensitive spot. His fingers gripped your thighs, dragging you closer, so your knees spread around his hips and you were fully pinned, fully his.

“God, Sunghoon,” you whispered, breathless.

He looked up at you from your chest, eyes blown wide, lips red and swollen.

“You don’t get it,” he said, voice low and wrecked. “I’ve been dying to do this since the first time you walked out of your room in my clothes. You were always just... there, tempting me, touching me, looking at me like that.”

You swallowed hard, your hands now sliding under his shirt, tracing the hard lines of his torso. “Then why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Because I didn’t want to cross the line,” he said, kissing you again—deep, slow, possessive. “But baby… you broke it first.”

His lips were back on your chest before you could respond, sucking and kissing like he was making up for lost time, like he wanted to memorize every curve, every sound you made. The hoodie slipped off your shoulders entirely now, pooling behind you on the counter.

And he made no move to stop.

Not when your head fell back.

Not when your thighs tightened around his waist.

Not when you whimpered his name, and he groaned like it was the only thing he wanted to hear for the rest of his life.

Sunghoon’s mouth was obsessed—hungry, slow, and dangerously focused.

He pressed open-mouthed kisses across your chest, dragging his tongue deliberately over the soft swell of your breast before closing his lips around your nipple. He groaned at the contact, deep and guttural, like he’d finally gotten the one thing he’d been fantasizing about for months.

“Fuck, I knew they’d feel this good,” he muttered between kisses, hand splaying over your waist to keep you close. “I think about them way too much.”

You gasped, arching your back as his tongue flicked and swirled, switching sides with a low, satisfied sound. His hand moved to cup your other breast, thumb brushing over the peak, and when he sucked again—harder this time—you nearly lost it.

“S-Sunghoon—”

“I’m not stopping,” he mumbled against your skin. “Not when you look like this… sound like that.”

He licked back up the valley between your breasts, teeth grazing lightly. “You wore this hoodie knowing I’d see you, didn’t you?”

You didn’t answer—couldn’t, not when his mouth was doing sinful things to you.

He chuckled darkly. “No bra. Just this. Like you wanted me to snap.”

And then, without warning, his hands were under your thighs—lifting you off the counter like you weighed nothing.

You gasped and instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, hoodie falling completely off in the motion. His grip tightened under you, fingers digging into your skin as he walked you down the hall, kissing your neck, your jaw, your collarbone with reckless affection.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he whispered against your ear. “No more teasing. No more pretending.”

He kicked the bedroom door open with his foot, not bothering to turn on the lights, letting the soft glow from the hallway bathe you both in shadow.

The second your back hit the bed, he was over you again—pressing hot kisses down your chest, your ribs, your stomach.

Your hands were in his hair, tugging, anchoring yourself as his lips found your breast again, sucking harder this time. His hips rolled against yours with just enough friction to make you whimper his name.

“I love these,” he murmured like a confession, voice low and rough as he licked across your nipple. “I could spend hoursright here.”

You arched under him, heat pooling deep in your core. “Then do it,” you whispered, eyes wild and breathless.

He looked up at you through his lashes, smirk tugging at the corner of his kiss-swollen lips.

“Say less.”

And he did.

He kissed his way down, took his time, made sure every inch of you knew just how badly he’d wanted this. Every flick of his tongue, every bite, every graze of his teeth was slow and sinful and filled with months of held-back tension that was now unraveling between the sheets.

Your breaths turned to moans.

Moans to gasps.

And gasps into pleas.

By the time he finally stripped you bare and joined you in the sheets, it wasn’t just about want—it was about need. About all the nights you brushed hands in the kitchen, the mornings you wore his hoodies, the way his eyes always lingered just a second too long.

He took his time, but when he moved inside you for the first time, slow and deep, both of you lost all words—just soft curses, broken kisses, and the kind of moans that only came from finally, finally giving in.

And still, even in the heat of it all—his hands found their way back to your chest, mouth pressing against your skin like he was claiming it.

“Mine,” he breathed against your skin. “All fucking mine.”

The sheets were tangled around your legs, your skin warm and slick, heart still racing from the first time. You lay there in the dark, chest rising and falling fast, trying to catch your breath—trying to process what just happened.

But Sunghoon… he didn’t move much.

He hovered just above you, gaze roaming over your flushed face, your swollen lips, your body stretched beneath him like a dream. His hand was on your waist, thumb brushing slow circles into your skin, but his eyes kept dipping back down to your chest—still heaving, glistening faintly with sweat.

“You okay?” he asked softly, a slight rasp in his voice.

You nodded, breathless. “Yeah. Very okay.”

He smiled, just a little, but it didn’t reach his eyes—not because he wasn’t happy, but because the look on his face said something else entirely:

He wasn’t done.

Not even close.

His fingers slid up your waist, brushing between the valley of your breasts before he leaned down again, placing a kiss just above your sternum.

You sighed softly, running your fingers through his hair.

“I told you,” he murmured, mouth trailing down again. “I’m not over these.”

He kissed one breast, then the other—soft, slow, reverent.

“You’ve already had your fun,” you teased, voice low.

He looked up at you, eyes dark. “Yeah. Once. That’s not enough.”

Before you could respond, he wrapped his lips around your nipple again, sucking gently—then deeper, hungrier—until your back arched right off the bed and a soft cry slipped from your mouth.

Your thighs instinctively pressed together.

He smirked against your skin.

“Still sensitive?” he asked, fingers ghosting down your hips.

You barely managed a nod. “Yes. But also… don’t stop.”

He didn’t.

His hand slipped between your legs, fingers teasing, already finding you wet again—still soaked for him. He groaned low in his throat.

“Fuck. You’re unreal.”

You whimpered when his fingers dipped inside you, slow and precise, the pads of them curling just right while his mouth stayed fixed on your chest—licking, sucking, marking you.

You were already unraveling again, body twitching under his touch.

“Sunghoon,” you gasped, hips lifting to meet every movement. “Please—”

He kissed up to your neck, whispering against your ear. “You want me again?”

“God, yes.”

He kissed your jaw. “Then get on top.”

You blinked. “What?”

“I want to see you,” he murmured. “Wanna see those pretty tits bounce while I’m inside you.”

Your breath caught. You scrambled to climb over him, straddling his waist, your hands braced against his chest as he looked up at you like you were a fucking goddess.

His hands slid up your thighs, settling at your hips before he guided you down slowly—inch by inch—until he was fully inside you again.

The both of you gasped.

You rocked your hips once—experimentally—and his head fell back against the pillows, jaw clenched.

“Just like that,” he groaned. “Keep going. Fuck, ride me, baby.”

You did.

You moved with him, chasing that dizzy, desperate high all over again, and he watched everything—his hands never leaving your waist or your breasts, gripping and teasing and obsessing the way he had since the very start.

Every time your hips met his, you felt yourself melt further—into the heat, into the rhythm, into him.

And when you came again, clenched around him with a cry of his name, he followed soon after—hands gripping your ass, thrusting up deep one last time as he spilled into you with a shudder and a curse.

You collapsed against his chest, both of you shaking, breathless, spent.

His arms wrapped around you instantly, holding you tight, still inside you, still warm and pulsing and wrecked.

Neither of you spoke for a while.

But when you finally looked up at him, messy hair in your face, cheeks flushed—

He just smirked and whispered, “Still stealing my hoodies after this?”

You smiled, slow and sweet. “Every single one.”

Your legs still trembled, curled over his hips, when Sunghoon gently kissed your temple.

“You did so good,” he murmured into your hair, voice worn raw and honey-sweet. “But I think you need a bath, baby.”

You groaned something incoherent against his shoulder. “I need new legs.”

He chuckled, low and breathless, then slid his arms under you again. Without warning, he stood—effortlessly lifting you bridal-style, your bare body pressed against his chest, the hoodie still tangled somewhere in the sheets.

“Sunghoon—” you squeaked.

“Shh,” he whispered, kissing your forehead as he padded toward the bathroom. “I’ve got you.”

The bathroom lights were dim—just the warm ambient glow of the under-counter lighting—and the air was already humid by the time he knelt by the tub, one arm still keeping you close while the other twisted the knobs.

Warm water started to fill the space, steam curling up like the start of something sacred.

He set you on the edge of the tub gently and leaned over to pour in something from a bottle—lavender and vanilla, by the smell—and you just sat there watching him, dazed and still pulsing between your legs.

Sunghoon looked up at you from under his lashes, hair messy and lips swollen. “You okay?”

You nodded, still breathless. “You’re… ridiculous.”

He smirked. “You’ve said that twice now.”

“I mean it more this time.”

When the tub was full, he helped you in first, easing your body into the water, then slid in behind you, pulling you back against his chest. His hands roamed lazily—down your arms, around your waist, fingers playing just beneath the surface.

And then his lips pressed to your shoulder.

You tilted your head slightly. “You’re not gonna let me relax, are you?”

He nipped gently at your neck. “I was trying to. You’re the one pressing that pretty ass against me.”

You grinned, hips shifting just enough to hear him hiss.

“Okay,” he growled, arms tightening around your waist. “That’s it.”

He turned you gently in the water until you were facing him, your thighs straddling his lap again beneath the surface. The heat of the water mixed with the slow burn returning in your gut. His chest glistened, wet and warm under your hands.

You dragged your palms up his torso slowly, admiring the cut of his collarbone, the sharp lines of his pecs. Then, without warning, you leaned down and pressed your lips just above his heart.

Sunghoon inhaled sharply.

Your teeth grazed him lightly, followed by your tongue, and then your mouth again—sucking just hard enough to leave a mark.

He groaned, head falling back against the edge of the tub. “Fuck.”

You licked across the red blotch, then moved a few inches over and did it again. His fingers gripped your hips beneath the water now, holding you in place, twitching slightly with every kiss you left on his chest.

“You like when I mark you up, don’t you?” you whispered.

“Yeah,” he rasped. “You have no idea how hot that is.”

You kissed lower, right over his sternum. “Wanna be covered in them?”

His breath hitched. “Only if I get to return the favor.”

You looked up at him through your lashes, eyes wicked. “Then you better sit still.”

You kept going—slow, open-mouthed kisses that turned into suckling marks across his chest, down the dip of his abs, making sure every moan he gave you echoed off the tiled walls.

And when you finally shifted your hips and sank down onto him again—warm, wet, slick from water and need—he nearly lost it.

“God, you feel even tighter like this,” he groaned, head falling forward, forehead resting against yours.

Water sloshed over the sides of the tub as you rode him again—slow this time, deliberately teasing, your hands braced on his shoulders as you whispered sinful little things into his ear and left even more hickeys along his collarbones.

You were in no rush.

You both dragged it out—bodies tangled under the water, teeth grazing skin, low moans bouncing off the foggy mirrors—until he gripped your ass and came with a deep, guttural sound, burying his face into your shoulder.

You followed with a soft gasp, body trembling for the third time, mouth pressed to his neck as your nails dug into his back.

For a long moment, neither of you moved.

You just sat there, still connected, chests rising and falling together, bathwater lukewarm and covered in steam.

Then Sunghoon kissed your cheek and whispered, hoarse and completely blissed out, “You’re never getting this hoodie back.”

The water had cooled enough to make you both shiver a little. Sunghoon noticed first, of course. He always did.

“Okay,” he murmured against your temple. “Up you go, pretty girl.”

You were barely responsive, dazed and boneless in his lap, but you let out a tiny hum as he helped you stand, the water cascading down both your bodies.

He stepped out after you and grabbed one of the oversized towels from the rack. Without a word, he wrapped it around your body from behind, tucking the edges carefully under your arms before pulling you into his chest, your back flush against his warmth.

You felt his lips press to your shoulder, featherlight.

“I should probably dry you off,” he said softly. “But I just wanna hold you for a minute.”

You melted into him instantly, eyes fluttering closed, head resting against his collarbone. “Mmm. You smell good.”

He laughed under his breath. “You smell like me. That’s my body wash.”

“And your hoodie.”

“Exactly. You’re basically mine now.”

You turned your head slightly, meeting his eyes. “Basically?”

His grip on your waist tightened, just enough to make you feel it.

“Unless you’ve got a reason not to be,” he said, voice low, sincere.

You didn’t answer him right away—not with words. You turned around in his arms and wrapped your own around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Not frantic this time. Just soft and warm and unhurried, your lips moving with his like they already belonged there.

When you finally pulled back, you whispered, “No reason.”

That made him smile—wide and genuine. “Good.”

He reached for another towel and gently ran it over your legs, your arms, drying you with care. When he reached your chest, he hesitated—smirked—and kissed the bruised skin reverently before patting it dry.

“Still my favorite part,” he mumbled.

“Such a menace.”

Once you were dry, he carried you—again—to the bed, laying you down gently. He tugged on a soft sleep shirt and boxers for himself, then rummaged around until he found a clean hoodie.

He paused.

“You wanna wear this?” he asked, holding it up.

You sat up on your elbows. “Thought you said I wasn’t getting your hoodies anymore.”

“I lied. You can have all of them.”

He pulled it over your head, helping you into it like you were made of glass, then kissed your forehead before climbing in beside you and tugging you against his chest.

It was quiet for a while, the kind of silence that felt full instead of empty.

His fingers traced slow lines down your spine beneath the hoodie. “You tired?”

You nodded, mumbling into his neck. “A little.”

“Wanna sleep?”

You shrugged. “Kind of.”

He shifted slightly, his thigh slipping between yours, his hand settling low on your waist—dangerously close to temptation again.

You tilted your head and whispered, “Sunghoon?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way…”

He tensed a little, worried. “What?”

You grinned sleepily. “But I’m definitely stealing another hoodie tomorrow.”

He laughed, pulling you in closer until your leg was hooked around his hip and your bodies pressed flush again.

“I’ll just take my revenge in the morning,” he murmured against your skin.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Round four, babe. You better stretch.”

You woke up to the feel of warmth—heavy, solid, draped entirely around you.

Sunghoon’s chest was pressed to your back, one arm tucked under your neck like a pillow, the other curled tightly around your waist. His hoodie was oversized on you, but your bare legs were tangled with his beneath the sheets, and you were acutely aware of something hard nudging against the curve of your ass.

You blinked slowly, a lazy smile tugging at your lips.

“Sunghoon,” you murmured sleepily.

He groaned low in his throat, face buried in your hair. “Mmnn?”

“Are you…?”

Another sleepy shift. The thick press of him grinding instinctively against your backside made your breath hitch. You froze, and he stilled too.

“Shit,” he muttered, voice hoarse with sleep. “Sorry—morning wood. Can’t help it.”

You smirked. “I’m not exactly complaining.”

He laughed quietly, but you felt his hips rock against you again, slower this time, deliberate. “You sure?”

“Positive.”

His lips brushed the back of your neck. “You’re evil. You know that, right?”

You rolled your hips just slightly, teasing, letting the hem of his hoodie ride up your thighs as you pressed back into him.

“Me?” you whispered, feigning innocence. “I’m just trying to get comfortable.”

Sunghoon growled softly and rolled you onto your back, slipping between your legs in one fluid motion. The bulge in his boxers pressed right against your center now, only the thin fabric separating you.

“You’re really gonna keep playing in my hoodie, no panties,” he said, eyes dark with hunger, “and act like you didn’t know what you were doing?”

You looked up at him through heavy lashes, lips parted. “I just like how it smells.”

His jaw clenched, and the way his hips bucked forward told you everything.

“Yeah?” he rasped, leaning in close, lips brushing yours. “You like how I smell?”

You nodded, one hand slipping beneath the hem of the hoodie to palm at his lower abs. “You smell like sex. Like me.”

His breath hitched.

You slid your fingers beneath the waistband of his boxers, wrapping around him slowly. He was hot, hard, twitching against your palm.

“Baby…” he warned.

But you stroked him gently, thumb brushing his tip.

“Come on,” you whispered. “Since you’re already awake…”

He didn’t need any more convincing.

With one hand, he pulled his boxers down just enough. The other hand slid your hoodie up to your waist, revealing the soaked mess between your thighs.

“Look at you,” he muttered, eyes fixated. “Wet already, just from waking up next to me.”

You smirked. “You’re not exactly subtle with that thing pressed against me all night.”

He pressed the head of his cock to your entrance, slowly easing in. You both gasped—your body already welcoming him, warm and wet and soft around him.

His hands slid under your thighs, pushing them up, pressing your knees to your chest so he could sink deeper. The stretch was dizzying.

“Fuck, baby—” he whispered, biting his lip. “You feel unreal like this.”

Your nails scraped at his back, your head falling back against the pillows as he rocked into you with lazy, morning hunger. Deep, slow strokes. No rush. Just the steady rhythm of his body pushing into yours, skin slapping softly, lips finding each other in between gasps.

“You always gonna wake me up like this?” he asked, voice ragged.

You grinned, tugging him closer. “Only if you keep wearing those boxers.”

His laugh turned into a groan as he thrust harder, lips brushing your cheek, your jaw, your mouth again—his hips relentless now, chasing that high you both knew was coming quick.

You moaned into his neck, legs wrapping around his waist.

And when you came—again—Sunghoon held you through it, kissing you like he couldn’t get enough, like you were still wearing his hoodie and nothing else for the rest of his life.

Because maybe you would.

You sat across from him at the little breakfast table, legs tucked under you, hoodie still slipping off one shoulder. Sunghoon had his fork in his hand, but his eyes were not—absolutely not—on the eggs.

They were on you.

Specifically, the way his hoodie dipped low across your chest every time you leaned forward to take a bite.

You bit into your toast slowly, watching his gaze drop. Again.

And then smirked. “You’re staring.”

He didn’t even try to deny it. “You’re teasing.”

You feigned innocence, licking a crumb off your lower lip. “I’m just eating breakfast.”

He tilted his head, squinting at you. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”

You leaned forward on your elbows just a little more—enough that the neckline of the hoodie dipped a few extra inches, revealing the bare curve underneath.

“What, this?” you said, blinking up at him sweetly. “The hoodie rides low. Not my fault.”

Sunghoon visibly swallowed, dropping his fork. “Babe…”

You tilted your head. “What?”

“You’re gonna kill me.”

You pretended to think. “Or maybe I’m just making it fair. You parade around in that tank top for two days and I can’t even exist in a hoodie without you getting handsy.”

He groaned. “That’s different.”

“Is it?”

“You’ve got your boobs out.”

You gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to your chest. “I do not—they’re just slightly visible.”

“Slightly? I can see half the damn thing.”

You giggled and reached for your coffee, watching him glare at the mug like it personally offended him by hiding your cleavage.

“You really have a thing for them, huh?” you teased.

He didn’t even blink. “I admitted that last night. Several times.”

You raised a brow. “And during the bath.”

He smirked, leaning back in his chair with a lazy grin. “And yet I still haven’t gotten enough.”

You licked your spoon slowly. “Poor baby.”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re enjoying this.”

“A little.”

He pushed his plate aside, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he stood up and walked over to your side of the table.

You blinked up at him, all feigned innocence again. “What are you doing?”

He leaned down, both hands on the arms of your chair, trapping you.

“Letting you know,” he whispered, eyes dropping to the neckline of your hoodie again, “that if you keep teasing me like this, you’re not gonna finish that coffee.”

You raised your chin. “Bold of you to assume I wanted to.”

He huffed out a laugh, biting his lip. “You’re evil.”

You tugged on the front of the hoodie, dipping the zipper just a little lower. “And you’re obsessed.”

“Completely.”

Then he dipped down, and for a second you thought he was going to kiss you again—but instead, he buried his face between your boobs, groaning dramatically like a man who’d gone to heaven and back.

“Unbelievable,” you said, laughing breathlessly.

“Your fault,” he mumbled against your chest.

“You’re literally addicted.”

“I’d cancel all my meetings for this.”

You rolled your eyes, running your fingers through his hair. “One day, you’re gonna have to learn to behave.”

He tilted his head back just enough to smirk up at you, still nestled between your boobs.

“And one day,” he murmured, “you’re gonna have to accept that I never will.”

permanent taglist: @ijustwannareadstuff20 @hoonielvv @rjssierjrie @firstclassjaylee @morganaawriterr @rikifever @daisyintherainsposts @kkamismom12

1K notes · View notes

calypso-rt · 3 months ago

Text

When Rafe Realizes...

He’s Falling for You

-> Rafe x F!Reader

-> Pt. 2: Your Favorite Dates with R.C.

The sun was dipping below the horizon, casting golden light over the backyard as Rafe leaned back in his chair, the legs precariously balanced on the uneven patio bricks.

You were sitting beside him, scrolling on your phone, the occasional sound of your laughter breaking through the hum of cicadas.

He wasn’t sure when it started, but lately, he found himself watching you more than he should...at least more than someone who was supposedly "just friends" should.

He told himself it was harmless. You were easy to look at, after all, with your beautiful hair catching the light and your lips quirking into tiny smirks when you read something funny.

"Rafe," you said, your voice cutting through his daydream. You barely look up, your attention still on your screen. "Your hair is doing that weird thing again."

"My hair doesn’t do a weird thing," he shot back defensively, running a hand through it out of instinct.

You snorted, finally glancing up at him. "It absolutely does. Hold still."

Before he could protest, you leaned in, your fingers brushing against his forehead as you flattened a rogue piece that had sprung up, defying gravity. The touch was brief, just the lightest pressure of your hand smoothing over his hair, but Rafe felt his entire body tense like he’d just been electrocuted.

"There," you said, sitting back with a satisfied nod. "Now you look less like a mad scientist."

"I didn’t look like a mad scientist," he muttered, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up his neck.

"You kinda did," you teased, your focus already back on your phone.

Rafe leaned back again, a smug retort dying on his tongue as he felt the ghost of your touch still lingering. It wasn’t like you’d done anything grand. Just fixed his hair.

People did that kind of stuff all the time, right?

Except… no one else did it to him. And certainly not like that. There was something so natural about the way you’d reached over, like it was second nature, like it was the most normal thing in the world for you to touch him.

And now he was stuck, hyperaware of how the air still smelled faintly of your sunscreen from when you’d leaned in.

How the air between you had felt charged, even though you’d gone back to scrolling like it was nothing.

He shifted in his seat, trying to push the thought away, but it clung stubbornly to the edges of his mind. How could something so insignificant make him feel like the air had been knocked out of his lungs?

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched you laugh softly at something on your phone, oblivious to his internal crisis. He swallowed hard, his chair tipping back a little further as he tried to refocus.

How does something so insignificant feel so important?

"Careful," you warned without looking up. "Fall off that chair and I’m not driving you to the ER."

The corner of his mouth twitched.

You had no idea, did you?

No idea that one absent-minded touch had just tipped his entire world off balance.

"Thanks for your concern," he said dryly, finally steadying himself.

You gave him a fleeting smile, one he tried to memorize. Because somewhere in the chaos of his overthinking, Rafe Cameron was beginning to realize something terrifying and wonderful all at once.

He was falling for you, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

Rafe leaned against the counter of the grocery store, pretending to scroll on his phone while you wandered the aisles. He hadn’t even wanted to stop here, but you’d insisted on grabbing snacks before heading to the beach.

"What’s the big deal? It’s just food," he’d grumbled earlier, but you’d only rolled your eyes and dragged him along anyway.

Now he was waiting impatiently, glancing at his watch every few seconds. “You done yet?” he called out.

“Almost!” you yelled back. “I’m looking for something specific.”

He sighed dramatically. “We’re going to miss the sunset at this rate.”

When you finally rounded the corner, a triumphant grin on your face, you were holding a bag of… lemon pepper sunflower seeds?

“What’s that for?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You blinked at him, clearly unimpressed. “For you, obviously.”

Rafe stared at the bag, then back at you. “What?”

“You told me a few weeks ago you used to eat these all the time when you were a kid. Remember? You said your dad used to bring them home after his fishing trips.”

For a moment, he was silent, caught completely off guard.

He had mentioned that, hadn’t he?

Some random memory he’d thrown out one evening, barely thinking about it. It wasn’t even important. Just some passing detail about his childhood.

But here you were, holding a bag of sunflower seeds like it was the most normal thing in the world to remember something so small.

“I didn’t think you’d…” he trailed off, scratching the back of his neck.

“Didn’t think I’d what? Listen to you?” you teased, tossing the bag into the basket.

“Well… yeah,” he admitted, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “I always listen, Rafe. You just don’t talk enough for me to prove it.”

There was a lightness to your tone, but the words hit him harder than he expected. You listened to him. Actually listened. To the stuff no one else cared about, the random memories he’d barely even registered himself.

“Sheesh,” you said, breaking him out of his thoughts. “If I’d known this would blow your mind, I would’ve grabbed these for you weeks ago.”

“Shut up,” he muttered, but he was smiling now, following you toward the register.

As you paid, chatting casually with the cashier, Rafe kept glancing at the bag of sunflower seeds in your basket. Something so simple, but it made him feel… seen. Like you actually cared about the parts of him that most people ignored.

Walking out of the store, he finally nudged your shoulder. “Thanks. For, uh, remembering that.”

“Of course,” you said, flashing him a grin. “Just don’t eat them all at once. I’m not buying more if you get another craving later.”

He laughed, shoving his hands in his pockets as he fell into step beside you. Inside, though, his chest felt warm in a way he wasn’t used to.

She actually listens to me, he thought, stealing a glance at you as you debated what playlist to put on in the car. How is she so thoughtful?

And just like that, another piece of the puzzle slid into place. He was falling for you, headfirst and helplessly, and he wasn’t even mad about it.

The rain was relentless, pounding against the pavement like a drumline gone rogue. Your car sat lifeless on the shoulder of a backroad, hazards blinking uselessly in the downpour.

You’d tried everything.

Turning the key again and again, Googling quick fixes, even giving the steering wheel a good, frustrated whack.

Nothing worked.

Which is how you ended up sitting in the driver's seat, soaked from your earlier attempt to check under the hood, dialing a number you swore you wouldn’t use unless it was an absolute emergency.

“Rafe?” you said when he picked up, voice sheepish.

He immediately picked up on the edge in your tone. “Y/N? What’s wrong?”

“It’s probably nothing,” you rushed to say, cringing at how pathetic you sounded. “My car broke down, and it’s pouring, and I’m kind of stuck on the side of the road. I just… I didn’t know who else to call or...or what to do...”

For a second, there was nothing but the sound of the rain hammering against your windshield and the faint noise of his car’s radio in the background.

“Where are you?” he said, tone clipped and serious.

You gave him the location, muttering something about how you didn’t want to bother him if he was busy, but he cut you off.

“Stay put. Lock your doors. I’ll be there in ten.”

True to his word, Rafe’s truck pulled up exactly ten minutes later, tires skidding slightly as he parked in front of your car. You barely had time to roll down your window before he was at your door, an umbrella in one hand and an intense look in his eyes.

“You okay?” he asked, leaning down to peer inside.

“Yeah, just a little damp,” you joked, gesturing to your soggy clothes.

He didn’t laugh. Instead, he opened your door and handed you the umbrella before crouching to look under your hood himself.

“You didn’t have to come all the way out here,” you said, feeling a little guilty as you watched him fiddle with something. “I could’ve called a tow truck.”

“Yeah, and waited an hour for them to show up while sitting out here alone?” he shot back, not even looking up. “Not a chance.”

You blinked at him, surprised by the sharpness in his tone.

“Rafe, I’m fine—”

“You’re not fine,” he interrupted, standing up straight and wiping his hands on his jeans. “Your car’s dead, you’re soaking wet, and it’s pitch black out here. What if someone stopped by who wasn’t me, huh?”

The thought made your stomach flip, but you tried to shake it off. “I had my doors locked.”

“That’s not the point,” he muttered, running a hand through his damp hair.

You stared at him, taken aback by his uncharacteristic panic. “Why are you so worked up?”

“Because I care about you!” he snapped before freezing, like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

Your eyebrows shot up. “You… care about me?”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, I care, okay? I don’t like the thought of you being stuck out here alone in the middle of nowhere. It freaks me out.”

For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. The Rafe you knew was cocky and confident, never flustered or vulnerable like this. Seeing him so visibly shaken made your chest ache in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

“Well,” you said softly, “thanks for coming to my rescue.”

He finally looked at you, his usual smirk nowhere in sight. “Always.”

You smiled, holding the umbrella a little higher to shield him from the rain. “Guess you’re not as heartless as you pretend to be.”

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the faint grin tugging at his lips. “Don’t let that get around.”

As he helped you into his truck, soaking wet and dripping water all over his leather seats, he couldn’t help but glance at you out of the corner of his eye.

You shivered, hugging your arms to your chest in a futile attempt to ward off the cold.

Rafe’s eyes softened for a split second before he quickly reached for the spare jacket in the back seat, tossing it to you. “Here,” he muttered. “Put this on before you freeze to death.”

You gave him a grateful, but shaky, smile, slipping the jacket on. “Thanks, Rafe.”

He didn’t respond, but you caught the way he kept his eyes on you, making sure you were okay. The warmth of his jacket, the concern in his eyes, it was enough to make the cold rain outside feel like nothing.

She called me. Out of everyone, she called me.

And that’s when it hit him, hard and fast like a tidal wave. He wasn’t just smitten. He was utterly and completely gone for you.

Rafe sat back in his chair, his gaze lazily sweeping over the busy café. He had his usual coffee in front of him: black, no sugar, no cream.

Just the way he liked it.

It was a Saturday morning, and the place was a bit quieter than usual, with only a handful of people scattered at tables around him. His fingers tapped the rim of his cup as his mind wandered.

He was halfway through a text to a friend when he noticed something that made him stop mid-typing.

You had slid to sit across from him, sipping on your own cup of coffee. When you lowered it, you caught his eye and gave a small smile.

"Coffee’s perfect today," you commented, stirring it absentmindedly.

Rafe blinked, then stared at your cup for a second. It was identical to his: black, no sugar, no cream.

"You—" he started, his voice trailing off in confusion. You hadn’t ordered the same thing, had you? No, you always chose the caramel latte, but you had started transitioning to more bitter coffee...

His eyebrows furrowed, watching you take another sip.

"What?" you asked, noticing his stare.

"Why’d you..." Rafe caught himself. "Never mind."

He shook his head, chuckling under his breath. You’d been unconsciously drinking your coffee just the way he did. Had you even noticed?

His eyes narrowed slightly as he leaned back, his gaze not leaving you. You’d also been humming that same song he had been listening to on repeat all week. An old track by some band he'd introduced you to, one that had been stuck in his head for days.

When you softly hummed the chorus as you fidgeted with your phone, he couldn’t help but grin.

"You always hum that?" he asked casually, raising an eyebrow.

You stopped and blinked, then shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. I didn’t realize it was the same one we were playing the other day, though."

He sat forward slightly, his eyes searching your face for a moment, trying to figure out if you were joking, but there was something in the way you said it that made it clear: you weren’t aware of the little things.

How, over the past few weeks, your habits had begun to align with his.

And in that moment, Rafe felt a quiet thrill spread through him. You were becoming his person without even trying. Without even realizing it.

He leaned back, smiling to himself, then took a sip of his coffee. “Guess we’ve got the same taste,” he said with a half smirk, watching you carefully for your reaction.

You looked at him and shrugged again, clearly clueless about what had just happened.

"Guess so," you said, a playful glint in your eyes.

Rafe’s heart gave a small, almost imperceptible flutter.

You weren’t his yet. Not officially, at least. But in this small, unspoken moment, he was already beginning to feel like you were.

You had spent hours upon hours, which felt like minutes, talking, joking around, and watching ridiculous movies with stupid plots, chowing down on various snacks.

The door had clicked shut behind you with the usual soft thud, and now that you were gone, he couldn’t help but feel that sharp pang of longing in his chest. It was like someone had tugged at something deep inside him, pulling a part of himself along with you as you left.

Rafe’s lips pressed together, and his gaze drifted to the spot on the couch where you had just been sitting.

When did she start taking up so much space in my life?

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to shake the thought. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized how true it was. Every time you were around, everything felt just a little more... right.

Even the way the silence between the two of you felt more like a conversation than an awkward pause.

With a groan, he grabbed his phone, half-wishing he could text you to come back, but he knew that was ridiculous. You’d left, and it was just the way things were.

Still, as he sat there in the quiet, he couldn’t help but wonder how he’d gotten so used to your presence in his life.

And how much he already missed it.

Pt 2: Your Favorite Dates with R.C.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction

2K notes · View notes